Dead Hearts

by Flutter Bloom

Chapter 3: Unraveled

Chapter 3: Unraveled

It wasn’t long until Militis had placed Tempus in the required room the monarch had requested to place him. The chosen room though seemed to be a rather bland one, with only a low bed near the ground ( which had a pathetic excuse for a ‘under’ for a bed ). A nightstand was right the right hoof side near the shoddy bed - which caused the bed to look like the most expensive thing in the room - the color was dull almost a form of black although the reddish tint was clear it was suppose to be a brown but the time of worn got to it making it depressing in appearance.

The window on the wall barely let any light in, which also made that a poor excuse for a window - the reddish curtains were pulled over it and they seemed to match the nightstand in the color of dimness. The whole room made Tempus’ mood lessen and knot, which caused his hooves to itch with the impulse of gaining the knowledge of the location of his bag. Then there was the matter of his thoughts that the room seemed to affect. Making them turn into a tangled, incoherent mess. And what a mess it was, a seemingly ugly mess that not even he wished to try to touch. But he did anyway, a loose thought he seemed to be rather plain he tugged at which tightened the ball of tangled thoughts making them tighter in the unclear voices he tried to sort out - clearly he was crazy if he could deem these voices as none belonging to his own but as if the were external and speaking to him from the dark corners of the room.

These voices weren't his own though, no - instead they were old voices from when he was a young colt back in the forest. Everypony had those voices they chose to place in their mind to help them think better. Those nagging ones when you know you forgotten something. His was unique though, they were the voices he hates not the ones he preferred because if they were those octaves that soothed him well; he wouldn’t do anything he would just sit there or stand there not being proactive. Which was what he was doing then, just pacing in the room alone as his hooves constantly padded on the ground as his brain raked with nonsense and dulling factors of the tragic events added onto with many outcomes that could lead to his demise. Simply not grand in the simplest terms.

But then again he was left to doing something he hated due to his door deemed to be locked. Leaving him to his self-pity and mindless pondering with that knotted ball in his head. Pacing back and forth was getting him no where. Still he continued to do this. He had seemingly placed his mind on autopilot. Whatever it was that was getting to him -showed as conclusion to be rather bothersome. Closing his eyes he forced himself to stop pacing. His legs seizing up, tensing the muscles that made his whole form scream out in slight agony.

The queen said two weeks - was he out for two weeks? No, he had just got there the previous eve right? That what it seemed. But he could have gone into a state of sleep that made his body stay unconscious for way more then one simple eve. He had just woken from a slumber and the only thing that truly hurt were the parts of his body he sort of knew he had broken - seeing of the cracking, the tearing noises when he was tossed was obvious that a few ribs were broken and he could have sprained something here or even there among his form. Then again he wasn’t a witch doctor so truthfully— he didn’t know. Although, maybe this small encapture of being stuck in one simple room wasn’t so bad. He had his talents doesn’t he? If only he could concentrate and not focus on the more damper of things of that ball of tangled thoughts.

* * *

In the throne room laid a pacing Sol and a frowning Radiant. The choices for what to do with the unicon laid to question, as the pondering increased a small muffled cough was heard from the far left end of the room. The stallion froze and glanced up to see the white filly who had stepped into the room with a face of what could be defined of distaste on it. Her hooves now clacked as she walked across the room to form a b-line to the stallion that had earlier been called ‘King’. Radiant tried to give a weary smile to the the younger mare but the smile did not last long and it had creased out into a somewhat worried expression.

“He does not seem as threatful.” The filly spoke as she froze in front of the much older stallion, “And he worries me an awful lot.” Glancing down she bowed her head. Sol muttered a few words under his breath before glancing to Radiant whose eyes now seemed to be glossed over with increasing worry and a ting of something else— pity? Perhaps someone could take it that way although the young mare or stallion saw it as such.

“Dear, I think he worries everyone. A Unicorn using magic and coming in is not of the norm.” The queen now finally spoke. She couldn’t dwell on things for long, if she did the kingdom could become much worse than some of the standings they are in now. “He even came with a shackle with gems inside of them. Which is more curious in the factor that we don’t know where he come from. Maybe from Riverdale or even from any other land.” She continued to speak as she walked over to the filly. “Celestia, I suggest you go see him and leave your father and I to pondering on what to do with him.” The filly glanced away with a hesitant nod before turning her attention off. Walking back out of the room Radiant looked to Sol. Worry still riding on her features as clear as the day itself.

“You should have told her.” Sol spoke now, his features falling into a concerned one. “If you really want him as a scroll keeper or even in the castle and not locked away I think she had every right to know.” This was enough to cause a sigh from Radiant’s lips. He was right and all Celestia had the right to know after since she was the one who found him. Silence bathed over them as the mare remained quiet as she pondered on how to respond to her beloved king. It was a while before she could respond to him.

“In every way yes, she does have a right. But I shall not tell her yet. Not until he proves fit for the role. If he does fit the role then she shall know on what to expect.” She finally came to her decision. Sol shook his head as if disagreeing but he did not say a further statement nor sentence that could draw this conversation forth and into an argument. “I am assuming you agree as well?” She spoke again but no response was handed to her from Sol. This seemed unnerving, this whole conversation about what to do with the odd guest that was in the castle at this moment. They couldn’t just ignore him and he needed value in the kingdom if he so chose to stay.

“But don’t you find it off?” Sol finally spoke again, “the stallion doesn’t even have a cutie mark and how he carries himself is all odd.”

* * *

Finally coming to a full stand still with his pacing, Tempus took a seat on the pillow that he had tossed on the floor. Closing his eyes - he hung his head in rather deep thought. His ears perked up at the sound of the door opening, turning his head he spotted the young white mare. Her eyes not moving off of him as she kept her distance safe from him. Honestly, she didn’t know if she could trust him or not. Nor did he know if he could trust her or not.

“Guessing a verdict was chosen.” He muttered, but no sound come from her. “What’s going to happen?”
“I don’t know.” The mare spoke, still having her safe distance. “Father and Mother haven’t came to the conclusion yet. I can guess that it’s eating thee away. But I cannot tell you what they have agreed upon.” Those words in themselves seemed upsetting for him. “What were those gems in that sackel?” With those words, the question he never wanted to answer seemed to echo inside of his head and caused his eyes to snap open just to look at her.

“Those gems do not concern you.” His tone became strict as he stood up now, his legs popping and shook under his weight. It hurt to stand now that he thought of it. “Nor do they concern your kingdom.” His eyes moved from her as he heard her scoff. This was more than he truly could deal with. He was bad with children, even his own.

“Have you even heard about the war? My parents think not that I know of it. If those gems could stop it please say so.” She spoke, not in a harsh tone like he so thought she would of but in a gentler one. One that was full of kindness and not at all with biting cold from her words. What war did she even speak of anyway? The confusion shown on his face was clear enough for her to realize that he truly had never heard of it. A sigh left her lips as she closed the door behind her and sat on the floor. “The war has been on going for years. It started when a castle of ice springed forth from nowhere. We heard rumors of it, tales that it reflects the on in control’s emotions. This also got outside attention among the other fractions outside the walls of Canterlot, which you are in now. This attention was the one belonging to the draconequus.” She paused and frowned some as she narrowed her eyebrows. “The draconequus had also heard it had been one of the Alicorns already in control of the ice like crystal in this strange kingdom. Thus causing them to attack the Alicornian Empire. We lost contact with the rest of the cities in the kingdom, with us being so far apart in this time of declared war is making it hard. No one knows if we are losing or winning.”

Silence was soon placed upon the room and Tempus remained quiet. Honestly he didn’t know there was these so called Fractions nor did he know there was a war - was his tribe that secluded? Was that the reason why he was chased? All because of a war that didn’t include him? Could the gems really help? Those gems he didn’t know if they could help.
“They’re seeds. Not gems.” He finally responded, “They need to be planted in the forest for them to grow. I don’t know if they can help, I took them from a tribal tree from in the forest that was dying by vines.” He sighed out.

Her eyes widened, “Seeds?”

Glancing back at her he swallowed hard. “Yes, and that is all I can tell to you dear.” She nodded and slowly stood up just to walk out of the room muttering about the gems, or seeds, in the sackel that he loved. “Dear Solaris, what have I done.” He groaned as he hung his head.