• Published 13th Apr 2014
  • 1,751 Views, 81 Comments

Flying With Damaged Feathers - hornethead



A pilot with a deformity, an unorthodox comapnion and a problem with authority suffers a strange accident.

  • ...
7
 81
 1,751

Chapter 7: Meeting The Locals

Chapter 7: Meeting The Locals

It had been almost a week since Tiran had run from the house. His rations were nearly depleted, but he had managed to catch some rain water and refill a bit of his rapidly dwindling water supply. Li still hadn't been able to detect any radio waves or satellite data in the time since the crash.

Tiran reached up and scratched at the rough stubble that was quickly filling out on his face. He was starting to get bored again. Waiting for a rescue was proving to be more and more of a waste of time. He was beginning to believe that it would never come. After all; how hard could it really be to find a highly technologically advanced piece of hardware with built-in tracking devices?

The whole ordeal was beginning to wear him down. It wasn't just the dire situation he seemed to be in either. For the most part, it was what little he had been able to discover about his strange location.

First it was the encounter near the spring. Then it was what he found at the house and what Li had told him about its apparent occupant. On top of that, strange things lurked in this forest on the side of a mountain.

He once thought he saw a snake, but when he got closer, the head of a chicken popped up. It didn't see him and as it withdrew from its hiding place, he saw that the head was actually attached to the scaly green body at the bottom of the bush. He had taken off running and didn't look back.

Sometimes at night, a large and terrifying beast could be heard bulling its way through the branches and saplings. Often when it happened, he thought he could here the rough panting and grunts of some large cat, but he didn't know of anything from the big cat family that could be so monstrous. But what caused him to lose the most sleep was what he caught glimpses of in the air.

Sometimes it was a large ship, seemingly carried aloft by great bulbous bladders. Other times it was a smaller craft, nearly identical in method of flight, but faster and much more streamlined. Quite often, he thought he spotted an animal, but no bird or bat. They were as big as small horses and their shape and outline seemed to confirm that theory. Was what Li had told him true, or was she malfunctioning? Or is it him that's malfunctioning?

One thing was certain, he couldn't stay in the forest for much longer. Supplies were getting dangerously low, and though he had been supplementing his meals by catching small squirrels and rabbits, the meat was extremely lean and lacking in important lipids and nutrients. He food would be gone soon and then how long could he survive on his remaining water, a week? Two?

No. He had to do something to change his deteriorating situation. But what to do? Tiran thought he saw an ocean just before the crash, maybe he could get there and attempt to establish a connection again. Just as he thought of it, Tiran discarded the idea, he'd been spinning around so much during the accident that he didn't have a clue in which direction it would be. What if he followed a river or stream, they usually emptied into the sea sooner or later. But what if he was on the wrong side of the mountain? He'd just go further inland and become even more lost.

Tiran thought back to the journal he had read earlier. It mentioned a town or city. What was it called, Too Tall? Tall Dale? Something like that. There was a chance whatever country he landed in is friendly, but just as much a chance it was the opposite. No, that was too much risk on too little Intel. He needed to think of a more reliable alternative.

The house.

The house he had made his hasty retreat from. It seemed to have just the one lone occupant, the young woman, and she hadn't appeared to be hostile. Just a little frightened. Tiran weighed his options.

Trying to find the ocean was a no go, at least until he found out where it is and how far. Walking into an unknown city in a strange suit and weapons on his person wouldn't end too well either. Even if the place was friendly, they could perceive him as a threat. Going down in a blaze of glory over a misunderstanding was generally unappealing to him.

That left the house near the spring.

Maybe, if he took it slow and showed he meant no harm, just maybe he could get the young woman to help him. He had already left a bad impression during their last brief meeting, but perhaps he could rectify that. With some tact and a fair amount of luck of course.

There was still a chance that she had alerted more people or even the city nearby of his presence, but that was a chance he'd have to take. Tiran decided he would do it slow, gradually. Scout the area beforehand and make sure there wasn't anyone or anything lying in ambush for him. Once he was sure the area was clear, he would make himself look as harmless and un-intimidating as possible. Tiran conferred with Li and told her of his plan.

'I highly recommend you don't,' was her disapproving response. Tiran had thought as much. 'However, it is the better of the three options and our situation is growing dire.'

"So what do you recommend?" Tiran replied with a hint of sarcasm creeping into his voice.

'Given our options and the damage sustained to your limb, returning to the house would be most prudent.'

Tiran smiled, "So we go with the plan?"

'Yes. However, I advise we wait until late afternoon. If there is a trap, we will know before we get there and if not, whom ever we are likely to meet there will be more receptive of the unknown at this time of day.'

"So, one more night in the bushes then..." Tiran's shoulders slumped.

'Correct.'

Tiran let out a sigh and wiped some of the dirt and grime that had accumulated on his face over the past few days. The days were growing longer and hotter as well, making him sweat and allowing the dirt to mix and spread everywhere. He guessed that put the time of year around Spring. Nice weather, but it wasn't helping him.

At least it meant that he would have to spend less time out in the darkness with whatever strange creatures were running around in this forest, so at least he had that going for him. Tiran stood up from his shallow hiding spot and took a quick swig from his water supply, noting grimly it was half full. Then with another quick drink, he started back off in the direction of the house.


* * *



Tiran stopped and looked up at the sky again, at least what he could make out through the canopy of the trees above. It was past noon, the sun would be setting in a few hours. He was sure he was fairly close to the house now. He'd gone non-stop for almost a day after running from it before. By the look of the foliage around him and the how sore his legs and feet were becoming, he would be there soon.

With another painful step, Tiran continued on. Each stomp of his boot into the dirt and twigs below him sent another spike of pain through his legs. He thought he might have a blister on his left heel. Tiran hadn't taken the suit off since the landing, so there was no way to tell until he did. Even so, he was fairly sure. Hopefully all would go well and he would get a chance to rest and relax a little, take the suit off and get into some real clothes. A shower would be nice, too. He couldn't even imagine how bad he must smell underneath it all.

A couple of hours later, he noticed the underbrush was thinning out, the trees becoming more widely spaced. He was close, very close. Tiran hunched down and scanned his surroundings. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary yet.

Tiran began to angle his approach, going closer while circling around. He checked the charge on his pistol, still good. Soon, the house came into view, through the breaks in the trees. The clearing around it looked clear, the sparse grass mostly untrodden. He kept circling around, just to be safe.

The sun was nearing the horizon now, the shadows lengthening, casting a bronzed and aged look on everything. Something rustled in the leaves to his left. Tiran dropped and snapped the pistol up, waiting. After a moment, a squirrel leapt out onto a branch, chittering angrily. Overhead, something big swooped down low, but he thought it might be just a bird. Tiran let out the breath he'd been holding.

Tiran kept going until he was close to the tree line and facing the front door of the house. He scanned the windows, searching for signs that some one was home. So far, it remained dark. Tiran took a few deep breaths for what he was about to do next.

After searching for a suitable bush or shrub, Tiran dug out a hole using his survival knife. Once it was deep and wide enough, he began stripping himself of his weapons and tossed them in his bag, throwing it into the hole with his knife when he was completely unarmed. Then he began piling on dirt with scoops of his hands. Once that was finished he sprinkled some twigs and a handful of dead leaves over it, helping to conceal it better.

Tiran stood up with a low groan, his back was aching from the hike. He still needed to mark the spot somehow and he didn't have his knife anymore. Tiran mentally kicked himself for being so careless. Picking up a rock, he scratched a rough X on the trunk of the tree next to his hiding spot. Now it was time for the most risky part of his plan.

Inhaling a few more lung fulls of air, Tiran stepped out from the cover of the trees and into the clearing. Nothing happened. He glanced around, trying to spy some hidden danger he had missed before, but the area remained calm and quiet. He looked up at the house. Still no movement or even a flicker of light.

Gathering his courage, Tiran stepped closer, arms dangling loose at his sides and called out, "Hello? Is there anybody home?"

He waited.

When he still didn't receive a response, Tiran ambled closer, trying at it again, "Is there anyone in there? I don't mean any harm, but I'm a little lost and could use some help!"

The seconds ticked by and Tiran was becoming a little anxious. What if there wasn't anyone home this time? What if the person from before left again and didn't come back? Should he go in anyway? There were still too many unknowns, and he wasn't sure what to do next. Still, he needed somewhere to rest, somewhere safe.

After a few minutes without a sign, Tiran slowly began walking nervously towards the front door. Right as he was about to take his third step, he froze. The door cracked open, swinging out a few inches on hinges that really needed to be oiled.

"W-who, is it?" said the same voice from before, from behind the cover of the door.

"Ruwa, get back," hissed a different voice, this too one of a female, "let me handle this!"

Tiran took a step back, wondering if he should just turn and walk away.

"Who are you!?" the owner of the second voice called. She didn't sound very pleasant.

Tiran struggled to get something out, his words hitching in his chest, "I uh... I-I'm not really from around here. I've been lost in these woods for more than a week and I need some help."

There was a long silence. It was only for a few seconds, but to Tiran it seemed to stretch on and on. Tiran was considering just turning around and leaving, but then, "That doesn't answer my question! Tell me who you are!"

Tiran was at a crossroads in his thoughts. He didn't really want to reveal himself. If people were looking for him then having his identity known might just hasten his capture. On the other hand, he was a strange man wearing strange equipment with a crash site just a few miles away. It wouldn't take a lot to put two and two together. He decided to relent.

"My name is Tiran, I'm a pilot!" He called back to the unseen occupants of the house.

"A pilot?"

"Yeah, I crash landed not far from here. My people haven't come to get me and I'm running low on supplies. I was wondering if you could help me, let me stay and rest a little bit while I figure out what to do," he told them. "I promise, I don't mean any harm!"

Another pause. Tiran wasn't liking this one bit. After a moment, he turned to go. He said too much, he knew it, and now he might have compromised everything. He began walking fast, almost breaking into a run.

He didn't get very far. Something heavy slammed into his back and pinned him to the ground, knocking the air out of his lungs. As he struggled to get back up and suck air down his throat so he could breath, something hard and blunt struck him in the back of his head.

"Stop moving!" Some one commanded. This voice was loud, booming, unmistakably male. He was standing right on top of him, right on his back! "I said stop, and be quiet!" he said again, knocking Tiran in the back of the head with the same blunt object when Tiran didn't let up.

Tiran calmed himself down, that last hit was twice as painful as the first, and he was starting to breathe better. That was it, he was done for. Tiran raised his good arm up and and tried to reason with his captor, "Sorry! Sorry. Look, I'm unarmed, I just need a little—"

Tiran stopped talking when he was hit again, this time his head bouncing off the ground in front of him, small jagged rocks in the soil cutting into his forehead. He should have worn his helmet.

"I said shut-up!" the man ordered again.

Behind him, Tiran could hear people approaching from the house. At least he thought it was people, but the steps sounded wrong, the were loud and clomped when they hit the ground.

"Good job, Axil." It was the second voice from before, the unpleasant sounding woman.

"What should we do with him?" Axil replied.

Tiran tried to twist his head and see who was talking, but all it earned him was another smack in the head.

"I'm not sure..."

"Look at his arm, h-he looks really hurt!" It was the first voice, the woman who he thought he scared earlier in the week. "Maybe we really should help him..." she put with some compassion.

"No." It was Boss Lady again. "We don't know who he is. Or exactly what he is..."

The younger girl began to speak again, "He looks kind of like a hu—"

"Maybe." Boss Lady cut her off. "But we can't be too sure. Does he looks like the thing you told me about, the one that broke your door?"

"I think so..."

"Do you think we should tell the guard?" Axil offered.

"No, I don't think so, not yet." Boss Lady said. "Get him inside, we'll figure out what to do later."

"Sure thing."

The next thing Tiran knew, a piece of cloth was wrapped around his head, covering his eyes. The way it got tied off felt funny, like some one was doing it with their mouth. It was the same with his hands as they were jerked behind his back and tightly bound at the wrist. Then, something gripped the collar of his suit and he was dragged away.


* * *



Tiran wrung his wrist against his broken prosthetic, trying to loosen the cords. He was lucky he was still wearing the suit or the jagged remains of his right wrist might have shredded the soft flesh of his left. He still couldn't see, they had decided not to remove the blindfold.

As far as he could tell, he was in a basement. He remembered, they dragged him up onto the porch, across the wooden floor of the house and then down a long flight of stairs. They hadn't been too careful about it either. Then they propped him up in a chair, tied him down and went back up, leaving him alone with his thoughts. And Li, ofcourse, but she had remained silent so far.

Tiran had tried to rock the chair, tip it over and break it, hoping to get free. All he succeeded in doing was falling over and earning yet another painful knot on the side of his head. Whatever the chair was made out of, it was some extremely sturdy wood.

"Li, you got any ideas?" Tiran asked hopefully. "I could really use some help right now."

Li's voice came to his aid, always calm, always serene. Well, most of the time. 'I would have recommended you use the servos in your armor to break the bonds, but due to the current condition of your arm, it might result in further damage to the limb or possibly separation.'

Tiran grimaced. Being permanently implanted in his prosthetic, Li's power source depended entirely on the natural feed of current his body generated. Separation from that might end in her shutting down. It wouldn't be a death sentance, once his arm was reattached and repaired, she would be able to start back up, but Li didn't like gaps in her memory. Besides, he would also lose the advantage of her presence. His captors didn't know about her.

So, Tiran resumed trying to loosen the cords. Maybe he could wedge it between two of the thin plates of his armor, fray the cord until it snapped. He gave it a try. It was difficult, but with a little straining and stretching, he managed to catch a strand. "Gotcha!" Tiran grunted triumphantly. For the next fifteen minutes, he worked of rubbing his wrists together, wearing down the cord, cursing when it fell out of place, and resuming when he'd caught it again.

It was slow going, but Tiran felt like he was making progress. Stomping, on the floor above. Tiran went still. They were moving around upstairs, it sounded like...hooves. Again? What, did this house double as a farm? Arguing. Two voices were in a heated debate, a male and a female. Tiran recognized them, even muffled by the floorboards. It was Axil and Boss Lady.

Tiran craned his neck, trying to hear better. The argument carried on a few minutes more, but Tiran couldn't make out any of the words. Then it went silent again, maybe they reached a conclusion. More of the heavy, clomping steps. A door opened then shut, almost slammed.

He waited a minute longer, then resumed his rubbing. More steps. Tiran stopped again. Then he heard the door at the top of the stairs open. Some one was coming.

Tiran listened as he heard the same clomping steps make their way down the stairs, accompanied the clinking of glass. Tiran stretched his head back, pointing his face up while looking down his nose, trying to catch a glimpse of who it was. But the cloth was bound too tight around his head, he couldn't see anything. The sound of the steps turned hard and echoed a bit as who ever it was reached the bottom.

"I'm sorry about my friends doing this, they're just worried about me." It was the other female, the young woman. "They just want to make sure I'm safe, but they really shouldn't have been so rough with you." she said apologetically.

"Uh... it's ok... I guess." Tiran said awkwardly.

"Is your arm ok? It looks really bad..."

"Oh, don't worry, it's just broken."

"Broken!?" she gasped with horror. "We need to get you a doctor! Does it hurt? I don't like the look of that green stuff, it looks like it's infected!"

Tiran couldn't help but chuckle a little bit, despite his grim situation, "No no no, it's fine! I mean, yeah, it needs to get repaired so I can use it, but it can't get infected."

"I... I don't... huh?"

"It's fake. A prosthetic. Touch it, go ahead."

For a few seconds, nothing happened. ThenTiran felt a couple light taps on his right arm that thunked, like she prodded it with a stick or something hard.

"Fake?" the young woman said, "Why? What happened to it?"

Tiran let out a discontented sigh, "It's a long story."

There was some shuffling and the clinking of glass bottles again, "Well, the cuts on your face can still get infected, you're filthy!" She sounded like she had something in her mouth.

For a moment, Tiran felt a light breath on his face. It smelled sweet and a little like...straw? Then sharp pain stung his face and forehead and a cloth soaked in something that smelled a lot like rubbing alcohol was dabbed on the cuts on his face. Tiran sucked in a breath at the unexpected pain and reflexively jerked his head back.

He felt a slight rush of air as the woman retreated back a step, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"No, no. It's ok." Tiran said as the buzzing pain subsided. "Thanks, really."

"Oh, ok."

There was amoment of awkward silence. Then, "If you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

The question puzzled Tiran. He cocked an eyebrow, unseen behing the blindfold. "My name's Tiran. I'm a pilot. I told you outside."

"Oh. Just Tiran?" she questioned.

"No, I have a last name."

"What is it?"

A certain anxiety gripped Tiran's chest. He didn't really like using his last name. It brought up the past. A past he didn't particularly like. Especially after the incident. For most of his military career and afterwards, he had always insisted people call him by his first name. Some thought it was unprofessional, but he didn't really care.

"I... I don't really want to say," he finally said.

"Oh... that's ok."

"What's you're name?" Tiran asked, changing tack.

"It's Ruwa," the woman responed.

"And do you have a last name too?"

"Of course! Nimbus. Ruwa Nimbus."

Tiran frowned slightly, That's kind of a wierd last name..., he thought.

"Well, Ruwa, I'm Tiran and I'm a pilot. It's nice to meet you," he said pleasantly.

"Nice to meet you to!" Ruwa exclaimed happily. Then after a moment, she asked, "Where did you come from?"

Tiran chewed on the question in his head. What should he tell her? He guessed he should leave his country of origin out, probably which military too. She wouldn't be able to tell just by looking, his suit hadn't even been painted yet. He dicided to keep it simple.

"The sky. My aircraft crashed. I've been wandering around in the woods for the last week and a half," he answered.

"My gosh, I'm so sorry!"

"Not a sorry as I'll be..." Tiran muttered.

"I'm sorry?" Ruwa thought he was talking to her.

"Oh? Nothing, sorry. Listen, could you do me a favor and tell me which country this is?"

"Sure," she replied happily, "you're in Equestria!"

Equestria? What the hell kind of country was that? It definitely wasn't any place he knew. He definitely didn't think he'd be able to find it on a map. Tiran made a mental note to ask Li for answers later.

"Uh, where is Equestria exactly?" Tiran questioned further.

Silence. Just the sound of Ruwa's breathing and his own. Did he ask something he shouldn't have? No, it was a simple and harmless question. Was she confused by his question? Should he know where it is?"

Ruwa's next words were slow and drawn out quizzically, "You... don't know?"

"No." Tiran said, a little embarrassed.

"Well, it sits between the two Great Oceans, south of the Crystal Empire and north of the Badlands."

Now Tiran was really lost. He didn't have a clue what the hell she could mean. He hadn't heard of any of those places. He needed more information, see who he was talking to.

"Hey, Ruwa. Could you do me another favor?" he asked.

"Sure."

"Can you please take the blindfold off?"

More silence. To him, she seemed hesitant. Maybe her friends had told her not to do that. They definitely hadn't told her to treat his wounds, given their treatment of him. Tiran was about to open his mouth again when he heard her move around behind him. There was that same funny feeling of a mouth and lips on the back of his head and then suddenly he could see again.

Tiran looked all around, stone or concrete walls, stone floor, wooden floor over his head. Yeah, he was definitely in a basement. Tiran turned his head as he heard the strange clomping sounds again, like hooves on a stone floor. From behind him, a pony walked into view, stopping in front of him.

It had a round feminine face with a coat the color of a rcloud, gray and swollen with rain. Its mane was a sandy color with thin strands of dark, almost auburn hair streaked through it in places with a tail to match. The mane was brushed, falling down its face and angling off to the left, though here and there, some ran errant. The eyes were the most intriguing, like no color Tiran had ever seen. They were some hue of icy, translucent, blue-green, but there was something behind them, some sad emotion, though it didn't show on its face. Its head was almost even with his. Were he standing up, it would probably reach his arm pits. And on its back...wings?

Tiran turned his head left, then right, twisting it as far as it would go. He looked all around the room. Where was she? He definitely didn't hear her leave.

"Ruwa? Where'd you go?"

"I'm right here."

Tiran's head snapped back to the front, looking for her, but there was just the pony. He leaned left, he leaned right. There was no one behind it. Where was she?

"What are you looking for?" Ruwa asked.

"I'm looking for—" Tiran went rigid as a redwood. He saw it just out of the corner of his eye. But...no, it couldn't be.

"Looking for what?" The pony tilted its head to the side, it looked confused.

Tiran looked straight at the pony, a look of bewilderment locking itself in place on his visage. "...Ruwa?"

The pony smiled happily, as if Tiran finally understood something he should have known all along, "Of course!"