Icon: Remnants of the North

by Vixavior

Act 2- Chapter 3: An Examination

An Examination

Proofread by TehSporkBandit

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Fluttershy’s house had been a flurry of activity for about an hour after the early morning incident. It was about that time that Doctor Goodall stopped by. She was pleasant, good natured, upbeat, perpetually curious, albeit still professional, which helped ease the awkward nature of the intrusive physical examination. In the end she hadn’t told you anything new: you had a healthy enough heart, healthy enough lungs, but you should try to avoid being kicked in the kidney anytime soon.

The cold wasn't gone, but its icy grasp had eased when the sun crept over the horizon. Twilight had ventured out into the cold to send a message asking for the meeting to be relocated to Fluttershy’s cottage. After the news broke, other Ponyvillians might need time to adjust so the sight of someone so close to the front page horror story was sure to be unnerving.

Twilight returned within two hours and with her was the bouncing ball of energy, Pinkie Pie. Fortunately, Pinkie had migrated to the kitchen to help Applejack. Unfortunately, it also left an uncomfortable tension lingering in the room. You sat at one end of a couch with Fluttershy, Rainbow on the opposite like a trial prosecutor, and the uncomfortable evidence of a black and white newsprint rested on the table between the two.

Cracks were already forming in your friends’ facades: Fluttershy is preening her wings, head down and unresponsive; AJ is mucking around in the kitchen by the sound of clattering pots and pans; Twilight is lingering in a corner of the room flipping through a red cloth-bound volume that looks uncannily like a court procedural book. Although the last one may be a bout of disquieted paranoia on your part.

“Oatmeal with clover, honey, chrysanthemum, but not on yours, Rightly, not after last time.” Pinkie’s prance in from the kitchen, balancing a wooden platter on her head, is enough to seem shockingly unconcerned. Slipping it down over the paper, she sets your bowl apart from the others. It has a happy honey drizzled smile and two patterned cookie eyes, all of it is rapidly sinking in the food and forming a maniac’s demented grin.

“You’re in a good mood this morning.” Nopony else was talking so you figure it can’t hurt.

“Uh-huh!”

You were about to prompt her but Rainbow cuts in, “Catch anything in the paper recently?” She motions to the newsprint now resting under the platter. The Alicorn shoots a glance that says she wasn't amused and won't brook instigation. The more you look at Twilight, the more you see the lines of red in her amethyst eyes and the drooping wings, you grow more convinced something might be wrong.

“Nope, who puts things in paper? Aside from fries, it’s not really the best thing for wrapping stuff. After all, they don’t have a bottom, or a top, it’s just a squiggly mess in between if it gets runny.”

The door sweeps open, quietly but notably. Tall, dark blue with a shimmering marking of a moon-like diamond dust, piercing teal eyes marred in the same way as Twilight's, stands Princess Luna. The dark cloak and ragged mane attests to a long night's work. Yet, instead of being asleep in the royal residence, she is here in Ponyville. The sour frown speaks volumes about how eager she was to be here.

You bow, even in your seat you can make the gesture as everypony else. There is a fleeting look on her muzzle, pursed and perhaps apologetic, "Please, do not stand on ceremony, for…” she stifles a yawn, “We… I, am tired.” Her voice crackles as if the switch from aloof to something more informal required a complete vocal shift. The door is slammed shut in a haze of turquoise sparks.

Stamping her feet one after another, you're still reminded of a typewriter when any pony does it, but it is particularly punctuated this morning. Luna’s marked amble is anything but regal, regardless of the heavy tap of her silver picked horseshoes or the wreath of silver and obsidian on her brow.

Everypony made way as she takes a seat opposite you, displacing Rainbow Dash to the further edge. “Black tea brewed at least six minutes, cream, honey.” Her voice carries, but to nopony in particular. With a blink, she seems to realize the mistake as well. There are no designated servants and she lowers her head, "M-my apol-"

“Ah’ll get that, Princess.” AJ’s voice echoes from the kitchen, from which she’d yet to emerge.

It takes a moment but she nods and collects herself. “To the matter at hoof.” Luna's stare is particularly intense, “What have you discovered?”

A question, you scramble for an answer but can barely fathom that she is speaking about something you should have apparently been doing. “I-I… uhm, about what?” Trying not to break the stare, you notice out of your peripherals there isn't anypony willing or capable of helping you.

“The dreams, have you made sense of any of them?” You blink for a moment and take in the implication.

“Sooo, that was you and not just-”

“Nothing from your delirious imagination, no. We-I, suspected it would be better to allow you to grow comfortable with the method first. Beyond seeing what happens and sorting them into a coherent order, there is little sense to be had in them. I was wrong before, you have an importance in your skills. So, pray tell, what did you understand?” She was serious; the princess's demanding tone requires information but it is also far softer and more hopeful than in your last meeting.

“Aside from a few country names and locations, not a lot.”

“Excuse me-” Rainbow Dash interrupts, “Princess, how do we know he’s not another one of them? They might have been from up in the frozen north and there could be marauding hordes of them just waiting to pounce! I say we hook him up to one of Twilight's crazy contraptions and try to take the stuff out of his brain. If she can't, Zecora can!”

Twilight looks aghast, but finally the Princess answers, “I brought him here. He may, nay, does know something important, even if he doesn’t know he knows. So-” she motions to you with a smile, leaving a somewhat puzzled Rainbow Dash thinking about the implications, “please, continue.”

Instead of just sitting there under the glare of a dozen inquiring eyes, you guess, “Well… I think it's a Viking raider. So, ninth-to-eleventh century. That would make it a thousand or so years ago. I have no idea how I understand what I heard, they should be speaking a totally different language. But I think-” you try to slide the newspaper out from under the tray, “that might be Olaf. Very similar clothing, similar likeness with the white beard, but that’s something he called the Icon of Theophilus. It kind of looks like a Unicorn horn.”

Twilight turns pallid, breath rattling in her chest. “T-that wasn't a dream?”

Does she know about that, too?

“I assure you, it was no simple dream but a memory. My sister and I felt it as well.” Luna assures Twilight who looks more uncomfortable than ever.

“I've been having nightmares for two weeks because of that! It’s the same voices waking me up when I try to sleep.” Twilight blurts out.

Luna called for calm with an upraised hoof. It is partially shattered by a cheerful voice, “It's Breaksert!” Pinkie canters out from the kitchens with a tray of small tarts on her head. A charming whistle and gentle glide has her place one down in front of everypony. “I call it the Breaksert Appletastic Cranberry-crimps and very-cherry torte! See, it's Breaksert because we're having it for breakfast and there's oats in it too. Breakfast-dessert, breaksert! Applejack made it, I named it. We make a good team.” She seems pleased, the others seem perplexed, and you realize how quickly the voices of discontent disappeared.

Smooth, Pinkie Pie, smooth.

Luna quickly straightens up and takes advantage of the lull, “We have had such a dream three times before, it took time to assemble the scattered pieces. Then, of course, I saw the horn, and since then Our rest has been more troubled than normal.”

There was still the obvious question to be asked, “What did you want Twila Smythe for, you never did answer my question last time… Princess… ma'am.”

“While the exact details were given to the constabulary, I can tell you that we have four unicorns who have been killed, and two that have not been found. We had assumed it might be unrelated until one sister was killed and another abducted.” the Alicorn rattles off the list like it was any other. It shocks the rest of the room with its callousness.

“No slave trade, no other trophies displayed, no theft.” It doesn't line up. What is Olaf planning that had so few hallmarks of the Vikings? Was your knowledge of them really that lacking?

“Nevertheless, the picture was released and it won't be easily contained. I was hoping to shield you from this Rightly,” she sighs, the tea arriving thanks to the courteous Applejack. She bows then takes a seat next to you. Luna continues after a less than dainty sip, “but Our usual channels were less successful. We would have usually kept such an issue quiet, there is no sense in frightening the plebeian ponies near and far. So this, no doubt, is going to cause you issues. I am sorry.” She stops and looks between Rainbow Dash and yourself. There is something else to that gaze that takes responsibility for your presence.

Rainbow Dash, slams her hoof down on the table, “Then it's settled, we'll just go and buck it to next wee-”

“No.” Luna's booming voice echoes out as she cuts Rainbow Dash's heroic, albeit impulsive, plan short. “We have Royal guards and constables for that. Your task is seeking out the purpose and plots of this monster.”

“Ahem, if it's not too much trouble.” Twilight’s twitching left eye betrays her thoughts, “How is everypony perfectly okay with this?! I mean, Rightly, you said it yourself that it was a thousand years ago, so shouldn't we start there?” The baffled pony rises up, forehooves firmly set against the table.

“Well,Twi, a lot of the stuff we have to deal with starts about a thousand years ago.” Applejack just rolls a hoof and looks to Luna.

“We have some fragments and theories, Twilight Sparkle.” Luna assures her. Steeling herself, she begins again, “But they are not arranged properly. It is getting more difficult as time passes, dream walking is an art, reinterpretation takes time. We have ideas on how this was accomplished, to a degree, but not why it was done. I will relay what I discover to our friend. Hopefully it will make more sense to him. For now, seek out answers from another source.”

“Zecora!” Applejack's excited voice echoes in the confinement of the room, eliciting raucous cries from a few jays as they scatter in a flurry of feathers. Sure enough it gets universal nods of approval. “It means a bit of a walk through the Everfree, but we're gettin' more used to that then the back of our hoof! Ain't that right gals?”

Princess Luna closes her eyes, then blinks them back open as if having just fallen asleep for a moment. In that space she speaks sternly, “Be careful not to grow complacent, there are all manner of beasts in the Everfree.”

“Many are either in hibernation, but some do the reverse, others get desperate for food. And the Timberwolves come out even more.” Fluttershy reinforces what the Princess had said. It strengthened Luna’s position and avoided the Cavalier manner of the other four.

“Who, what, when, where, and why.” Twilight nodded, seemingly convinced, “ Who: Olaf, a h-raider from a thousand years ago-”

She’d almost fouled up,

Twilight clears her throat and continues unphased by the near blunder, “What: the deaths of four unicorns and a further two that are missing. When…” she inclines her head towards Princess Luna to answer that. If Rarity was around, she’d know.

“Three months”

“Where.” Twilight continues.

“Vanhoover and most of the west coast. The second killing of mister Many Bags occurred north of White Tail Woods while the third was in Mount Vermin near Tall Tale.”

Unless I'm way off, that is a fairly big area.

“How…” Twilight trails off, trying to fortify herself while Pinkie up and leaves for the kitchen.

“An axe.” Luna explains, causing a universal groan of disgust and discomfort. Rainbow just stares at you long and hard as if accusing you of it. No, that isn't quite right. She is inspecting you, as if peering into your heart to see if you could do the same. After a moment, the Pegasus just slowly nods and smiles at you. You have the distinct feeling that she had come up with an answer and was satisfied with it.

Luna finishes her tea and experimentally extends her wings, “Rightly, the dreams must continue until you find the key. If there is anything you need, it will be provided. I, I am sorry for my mistrust… please, be wary, be careful, expect the unexpected, and when the moment comes, know that We have faith in you.” She stands and makes her way to the door. It is a solemn moment, silhouetting her in the rays that spill in through the cottage door. Shutting the door, sunlight still bleeds through the windows and settles on dust motes like fireflies. No one speaks for what feels like ages.

“Well, down the hatch an' we'll get'cha home. Yer lookin' a might bit tired an' we gotta' hoof it to Zecora's.” Applejack nudges the bowl of oatmeal. Nopony was really eating though Twilight and Rainbow were both feigning it, “Y'all lookin' tired. We’ll start out at noon an' get to her place 'bout sunset? Besides, have to get Rarity all caught up.”

“Well-” you try to figure out how to eat the thick porridge without a spoon, “best not let it go to waste at all. Thanks AJ, thanks Pinkie.” You call out and get a ‘Welcome for whatever it’s for!’ in return. Looking around you take in the looks and glances around you: tiredness, disbelief, and stress are etched on everypony's face. Hopefully this won't last too long and you can get a solid answer from the mystic zebra.

♣

The thunderous roar and meandering roll of the longship in heavy seas was nauseating. Scything winds and crackling pincers of lightning rent the sky which churned and boiled.

“Row, you milk sops! If the Nornar decide that you’re going to drown then stop acting like teething sons of whores!” Taskmaster Einarr's shouts almost drowned out the storm itself. Almost. The man strode the elevated plank down the length of the ship and turned back towards the thane loitering near the door.

“Thane Ulf! Tell our lord we've spotted land.” The grizzled man pointed towards a dull grey mass on the horizon, easily mistaken for a cloud-bank. Ulf ducked back into the small aft cabin that swayed and heaved as the ship slid into a trough between the sombre waves.

Three men hunched over a small table, gazing at a map. “Sit, Ulf, you don't look well.” Olaf waved him in and set down a tankard which promptly skimmed across the table.

Olaf sat opposite of Ulf as he entered, clad in a blue cloak and saffron tunic, Kolbjorn in the rough-spun grey tunic of a warrior, and Sigvald still stood in his hauberk, though his helmet was gone, showing his ruddy skin and deep cleft where he'd lost an eye. He spat on the floor, obviously queasy but not wishing to show it.

“My Lord-” Ulf bowed and closed his eyes tightly as the lurch of the vessel nearly flipped him on his side, “taskmaster Einarr wishes to say land has been spotted.”

“Then we’re making good time, the Bleaksea and[i/] Flind are still in sight. Preparations are set. Excellent.” The proffered drink was grasped and quickly quaffed down by the Northern Lion.

Sigvald grunted and grabbed for his helm which slid across the floor, he nicked the aventail before it spun from his grasp and landed at Ulf’s feet. “Olaf, King, I'll lead my Joms ashore and take the headlands before dawn. It shouldn't be diff-”

Olaf only had to hold up a hand, “We land and set up an encampment. Your Joms will provide protection during the night. If anyone happens to find us, take them and show them to my tent. We must find this king.” Such a mundane task no doubt rankled the warlike Jarl. The thane hesitantly picked up the iron and brass helm and held it out. It was promptly torn from his hands by the Jarl.

“Yes, Olaf.” Sigvald grumbled and stood up to retrieve his cloak and brave the tempestuous gale on deck.

“Ulf…” Olaf’s eyes still rested on the map, “you will take the first group and set up the stakes to anchor the longships. Einarr will control the ship, but you will act as my voice to the other captains. Find us good shelter, we have no idea where this king is. If it’s some Wendish chieftain it could take time.”

The Lion stroked his beard in thought, “If this is a ploy, it may be to slay me. Our fight in Valland to see their king failed, the Hebredesians tried to slay me on the beach. Kolbjorn-.” he looked up, bright eyes transfixing him as if by magic, “Ulf is my voice to our people and you are mine to whoever we find. Take my armor, my cloak, my helm. You could pass for me at a glance.” Kolbjorn swiftly did as he was bid.

In moments they were ready. Olaf gathered his manuscripts and papers which had guided them, stalking out behind his thanes. Fora few seconds that Ulf and Kolbjorn were the only ones seen; from warrior to taskmaster, they bowed their head in submission before Kolbjorn. The thane sucked in a breath, confused for a moment and yet evidently liking the sensation as they strode towards the prow of the ship. The warlord Olaf followed like a wraith, unnoticed by his own people.

A ragged crack of lightning pierced the sky nearby with the stink of burning ozone, hairs stood on end and the bone rattling crack caused many to seize. Far off to their right, Ulf glimpsed a single bobbing light up on the massive wave crest. The Bleaksea rode high upon a mountainous crest. Kolbjorn swiftly glanced to starboard where the Flind was supposed to be, but there was no sign of the longship.

Einarr screeched above the howling winds, “Don’t cling to the gunwales, row!” Another wave sent a deluge of water down on deck, soaking every man to the bone.

The vapid expanse of the storm racked skies loomed up before them. Howling gales swept cloaks and battered flesh, turning knuckles white, fear etched on the faces of the hundred souls aboard the Serpent. Riding high atop that great crested wave, they spotted the headlands and the great rocky spire. There was a light, a pinprick of white atop the highest jagged peak. The vessel sloped down amidst a great cry as the ship swung sideways and plunged into the abyssal trough. They were sure to capsize as the enormous shadow enveloped them. Many eyes shut tight, prayers to the old gods were given in earnest, the Nornar consigning them to the deep.

The deathly wave never descended, but split in twain around the floundering vessel. One soul said what all were thinking aloud, “by the gods…” the waters were suppressed in a glassy verdant sheen that glittered like diamonds. From the vessel to the headland a calm pathway divided the raging waters, leaving it as flat as ice.

Yet from the headlands, the small spark was no longer a simple pin prick of fairy fire; in its place was an immense vortex of spiraling colors and crackling lightning. The roar could be heard above the storm, a thrumming drone of a waterspout sizzled with eldritch light.

“No gods… a sorcerer.” Olaf said in a voice quivering in anticipation while others quaked in fear.

Author's Note:

Not much to say about this one, it ran through pretty quick and just checking to see how the pace and such works with a new slightly quicker style.