The Mark of Eran

by Tofazz

Chapter 5: Najmah Sate'a

Najmah Sate’a

Relief washed over Athaal as he spotted the Rift of Bak’An in the distance. He hated the desert nights. Blistering cold air nipped into his already aching muscles. With his cape he could cover himself properly. However, the mare resting unconscious upon his back needed it more. Her body already cold from blood loss when they rescued her, blue overcame the lips of her matching blue face, even with his cape wrapped tightly around her. He was grateful that his armor gave warmth over the vital organs.

To his side Saif followed, breathing heavily. They needed to stop multiple times for Saif to rest; he had most likely bruised a rib from the fight. Athaal trained his eyes over the hill, speculating over how the trip would fare now. They would need to rest at least one day to let Trixie recover. With Saif hurt as well, it risked of becoming longer. This worried him greatly; Moxie’s condition was already worsening yesterday when they left the camp. Perhaps he could persuade Rishad to use a more powerful spell to help her relax. The priest would probably turn the idea down unless it was absolutely needed. Athaal wasn’t familiar with magic, but he knew it tired the user to extreme lengths.

He paced forward absently, his mind brooding with worrying thoughts and trying to forget how exhausted his limbs felt. His eyelids were growing heavy, slowly limiting his vision as they drooped down. In an instant they shot up again as he got flung forward over a rock he had not seen. He felt Trixie’s body leave his back and weightlessness coming to him, before he crashed into the cold sand. It was at least warmer than the air, heat from the day remaining in it. He wished to fall asleep right there, drowning in the sound of his own heavy breathing that whirled up the sand.

Saif ran over to Trixie, a slight limp visible in his canter. He pulled the cape over her again and made sure there were no additional injuries. He approached Athaal and stretched out a hoof to help him up.

Athaal sighed as he rose, pushing the offered hoof aside. There was a constant thought going through him: did he sacrifice the safety of Moxie for this? While Saif felt guilty about the deaths of the two soldiers, he as the commander needed to bring the news. There was no room for pleasantries for him. He wanted this over with and to continue as soon as possible. He knew Saif would suggest carrying her the rest of the way, even if they both knew he couldn’t without adding extra injuries to himself. Approaching her, he took a good grip and rested her on his back again, his jaw clenching together as she landed.

They made forward again, Athaal’s mind still refusing to focus. After a night with cold winds and aching muscles, he cared for little else than to lie down next to Moxie and share the warmth of a blanket. He longed for her soft touch, her gentle smile and caring words. Even if they only had been a part for this night, he missed her greatly.

Athaal smiled meekly at the thought, and trained his eyes to the distance. The first signs of a more vegetated area showed itself with dry grass and dead trees, before slowly turning to a greener, soft and mild ground to step over. They turned into a crag leading down into the valley, barren desert instantly turning into a lush valley with warm and humid air.

Glowing eyes watched them as they got deeper into the valley, skittering away from their presence. In the distance they saw a brooding fire and shouts declaring their arrival, followed by soldiers rushing towards them. Arien greeted them first, then shouted orders for Rishad to be woken up so he could tend the wounded. Trixie was quickly taken from Athaal’s back and carried hurriedly towards the bonfire; Saif followed, refusing to leave her side.

Athaal let his weary hoofs slink forward, barely having the energy to stand. He sat down next to his brother and let a hoof fall on his shoulder, not saying anything but just acknowledging that he was there. In the hazy orange light, he watched as the squad tended her wounds the best they could, cleaning the oozing wound with water and applying new bandages. In the corner of his vision he saw Rishad crawling out of his tent, a face showing a dazed priest trying to regain his composure. Upon seeing what the cause of the ruckus was, he quickly withdrew to his tent and emerged shortly after with a medical kit and a book of spells before rushing over to the wounded mare. Saif instantly rose and sat down next to the priest, making sure he was near if it was needed.

A light voice called his name. Even if he heard it every day, it still made his stomach flutter. He turned and saw Moxie exit their tent, slowly making way towards him. Her expression showed relief, and it looked like a thousand worries had been lifted off her shoulders. She smiled, even though Athaal saw how bleak her fur was, and the opal shimmered in a faded light. He tried the effort of rising to greet her, but his hoofs buckled halfway through; and he crashed down to the ground once more.

She ran over to him and took his head, placing it onto her lap. Small droplets hit his cheek, falling from her eyes. At first, he worried if something had happened, but the reassuring smile, beaming with relief and love settled him and allowed him to breathe calmly once more. Athaal closed his eyes, feeling her tender hoof run over his mane, and her voice giving air to her worry. Finally, he allowed himself to relax.

Moxie asked about why he was covered in black tar, bringing his attention to it. In their rush to get away from the oasis he had completely forgotten to wash off the linac blood. He had to admit, once it had dried up it did look like tar. The stench crawled up into his nostrils, smelling of rotten flesh. Snarling his nose, he explained what it was and made an attempt to rise. For more than ever, he wished to bathe.

Moxie pulled him back down, “No. I don’t mind, as long as you’re here... I don’t mind.” She said and kissed him warmly on the lips.

Rishad ordered the soldiers to carry Trixie in to his tent, where he could perform the magic in peace. Saif followed closely, not leaving the side of the blue mare, even forcing himself to join the priest in his tent. For him to ignore their social hierarchy to such a degree, she must be important for him, thought Athaal. A head priest could order him beheaded, and most of the time it would be followed without question. One could see the frustration in Rishad’s face, the slight scrunch of his muzzle, or the heavy sigh. Still, the priest allowed the watanï to follow.

“I’ve never seen my brother like that.” Athaal remarked as he watched the three of them vanish into the tent.

“She obviously means a lot to him, that mare…” Moxie answered, her voice hiding a slight worry or sorrow.

“It’s odd, really. I’ve never heard of her before yesterday; I knew Saif liked to keep his private life, well…private, but not this much. I’m his brother…” He answered with a small frown, a tangle of uncertainty brooding in him.

“Is she well?” Moxie asked carefully, softly running a hoof through his mane.

“She’s surprisingly well. It seems like the only thing is the wound on her shoulder. It looks severe, but there’s no lasting damages to her from what I’ve seen.” He answered thoughtfully.

She fidgeted with one of his braids, “I’m glad…”she lastly said.

Arien approached them and bowed, “Excuse me, but if you wouldn’t mind…” He halted his sentence, looking down on Athaal’s blood drenched body. “It can wait till morning.”

Athaal shook his head, “No, it’s fine…” He turned his head towards the general, “I’m sorry to say that Zubair and L’oohm fell in battle. They failed to execute the last linac before it woke. I do not know the exact details but, as you can see, Saif and I made it here with the reason for the mission.”

Arien bowed, “Very well, I will add the names to the roster as you requested before you left. I will get more details from your brother tomorrow.” He quickly saluted and left.

“Arien!” Athaal shouted, “Set up a night shift…”

The general turned “As you wish.” He answered.

“Roster?” Moxie inquired.

Athaal sighed and began to rise, “I told Arien to make a roster for us before we left, if anypony died, I would look at the roster to find their names and contact their families, so I could deliver their belongings and the payment.” He offered a hoof to his wife, “Come, it seems like the camp is settling down, I wish to sleep as well.”

Moxie turned her eyes away, “I need to take the medicine before we may rest, “

“How come? I thought Rishad would help you take it?!” Athaal answered brashly, feeling his insides start to boil as he looked around.

Moxie rose, “Don’t be angry with him,”

“I told them—“

“It was my wish, Athaal.” She interjected.

“Why? Why would you wait?” Athaal said in a softer voice as he turned to her.

“I don’t know, I just don’t feel comfortable in that position with anypony else,” She turned pleading eyes toward him, “Please don’t be angry with them; they only did it cause I asked.”

He pushed aside a strand of hair fallen down over her muzzle, “I won’t, but we can’t wait much longer, we need to do it right away, come.” He said and guided her towards the tent she had emerged from.

Athaal rummaged through the saddlebags and hesitated slightly, feeling the moist fabric. Quickly shrugging it off, he withdrew the chalice and the blue glowing liquid and faced Moxie who had taken a seat on the bed. As he poured her eyes watched with a deep chiseled worry, and she shifted lightly from side to side.

He pushed the cup forward and looked at her, “I think I should lie down behind you before you take it.” She looked at him with confusion, “With the larger dose I want to be able to support you properly.” He quickly reasoned, feeling his cheeks warm up from the look of endearment from her.

She leaned forward and kissed him softly on his cheek. “Thank you…” she said and moved to make place for him behind her.
Athaal quickly lay down and rested his head over her shoulder, letting his hoof lay on the top of her stomach. She took a deep breath and picked up the goblet, emptying it in two large gulps. She quickly rested on her side, eyes closed and both hoofs over her muzzle, struggling to keep the content down.

He moved his hoofs and placed them over her chest, locking them together. He felt how her muscles worked in an attempt to rid itself of the serum, contracting in pulleys until lastly it rested. Moxie let go of a hacking sound and closed her eyes, letting the gathered up moisture trickle down. He locked his hind legs over hers and tightened his muscles as much as he could without adding pressure to her body.
All her muscles tightened, like a thunderbolt struck her, and her head heaved backwards. She remained like this for only a few seconds, then shot forward like a releasing spring; he felt the muscles in her abdomen contract. She whimpered, her whole body shaking violently. Athaal’s weary muscles were rekindled with new strength, and he pushed them to the limit to hold her down.

The tremors faded slowly, and he felt how her body began to heat up. She cried in pain as the heat grew until she felt like a scalding towel to his stomach. Beads of sweat pushed through her fur, making a slippery surface between them. She began to breathe heavily, almost like a dog would in the heat of a midday sun. Her eyes remained barely open, focusing on the nothingness in the air.

“It hurts…” She whimpered, voice breaking from the strain.

“I know, I know… you’re doing great; just a little bit longer.” He comforted the best he could.

As quickly as it started, it ended; the blue light shone just as strong as before. Athaal quickly moved a hoof up to her neck and checked the pulse. It slowed down little by little, until it rested comfortably. He sighed heavily, feeling the night’s adventure finally catching up with him again, and the cold air slowly cooled them down. He let a weak smile draw itself over his lips as he sidled closer to his wife and pulled a warm blanket over them.

Even under the circumstances it were, he longed for this. Lying next to her, letting her comforting scent dance melodically over his nose; feeling her heart beat as he rested his head over her neck. The way her body radiated with warmth, comforting his sore body; how her tiny wing fluttered lightly as she slept. He nuzzled her and closed his eyes. Hopefully they would be able to enjoy moments like these in the near future without the looming fear of her life being at risk.

* * * *

Athaal opened his eyes, the daze of sleep still lingering over him. In his hoofs Moxie still rested comfortably, and the opal pulsed with her heartbeat. He gently pulled his hoof away from under her and rose slowly, making way to the door. He barely lifted the veil and slipped out.
He took a deep breath, the air down in the valley was rich with scents and moisture, and sounds of critters and birds could be heard from every direction. By the look of the sun barely peeking through the slit over them, he had slept until late morning. Between the chippers he heard the sound of a river clunking at stones as it traveled its path. It was only broke by the crackling of fire and the low chattering of ponies. Anywhere else, at any other time, this morning would have been welcomed.

The smell of warm food caught his attention. Nearing the center of the camp he greeted the soldiers huddling together around the steaming pot and helped himself to large bowl. Noticing that soldiers looked at him with slight worry, he bid them morning and wandered off again. He knew that any concerns they would have would be heard from Arien and Kazim. He was certain there were some, for the soldier named Morad glanced over him with a dark stare. He did not dare to voice his opinion out loudly, much to Athaal’s relief. Spying the two sitting near a low table beneath the shadows of a large palm tree, he made way to them, bowing deeply before he sat down with them to enjoy his meal.

He sat idly and listened to the both of them discussing the differences in fighting form, tactics and discipline in their respective squad. This went on for some time, and Athaal observed there was no aggression in either. It was more a discussion between two whom held mutual respect for each other. Not wanting to interrupt the conversation, Athaal settled down to focus on his meal, taking rich gulps at a time.
Abruptly they stopped and looked at him, as if just noticing his presence. Then they both bowed their heads in mutual greeting. Arien came quickly to the point and spoke about his concern of the Linacs. While Kazim agreed, it seemed like he held the situation in a little more stagnant perspective. Both wanted to answers which Athaal was unsure of.

He stroked one of his sore muscles while he thought loudly, “I think Saif and I covered our tracks well when we left the camp, it was perhaps not needed, considering their bad night vision, but rather do that than to have them come to us in anger. We tried to hide the bodies of L’oohm and Zubair as well, giving them the most honourable funeral possible. There was no way we could move away the Linac bodies, so they will be found anyway.” He placed down the bowl and rubbed his chin, “It depends on whether the Linac whom will find them will go on a vengeful hunt after us or not. Perhaps it will be glad to get rid of competition as well. I don’t really know. If it is one from the same clan they will come after us, I’m certain of that. They care little for outsiders, but will avenge their fallen family if they can.”

“Considering how erratic the movements of Linacs has been lately, I suggest that we move with caution no matter what.” The old watanï suggested.

Athaal nodded, “Agreed, we move to the next camp site as soon as our guest has recovered well enough, with the help of Rishad it shouldn’t take more than a day.” He looked over the camp, “Where are they anyway?”

Kazim pointed to a white tent secluded in the shadows opposite of his own, “All three of them should be inside of that tent. Your brother has not been seen since you arrived with her last night.”

Arien cleared his throat, “There’s one more thing…”

Athaal knew that gaze far too well, and sighed. “Yeah, there’s that… from the looks that are being shot over here, I assume they are wondering what happened to L’oohm and Zubair?” He asked while trying to catch the stare of one of the soldiers around the camp.

“Yes, we’ve heard some hushed murmurs and wonderment about what happened, as well as what will happen.” Kazim added.

“There’s not really any mystery to what happened. They died in duty, with their honor intact.” Athaal said, and halted to think. “However…it is upon my shoulders, you’re right in that. It may have been my brother’s request, but it was under my command. I should address the rest…” He thought out loud before he rose and turned to face the camp.

He cleared his throat loudly and gained the attention of the squad. “Many of you might wonder what happened last night, seeing as we are now two less in our squad.” He saw multiple soldiers turn to each other and whisper. “Know that L’oohm and Zubair died with honor, protecting the life of another. In their path through the endless walkway, Eran will judge them with the greatest favor.

“I know some of you may have been close friends, and I will ask Rishad if he will hold a ceremony for them once the mare is in stable condition. As for our mission, it goes on as planned. We will rest for another day, so relish in it and use this time to pay your respect for the fallen as they would for you.” Athaal bowed, and the valley erupted into a loud cheer. To mourn those who had passed with honor was disrespectful, rather one celebrated their life and achievements.

He turned to Arien, “I’m going to see my brother, please use this time to relax.” Athaal walked over the short path to the tent, receiving respectful nods from the soldiers as he passed them.

Inside the tent, it reeked of sweat and incense; a small bonfire was secluded in the center and crackled to life as fresh oxygen came in with him. In the left part of the tent Rishad sat with his nose buried in a book, and to the right he saw Saif sitting with his back resting to a bundle of cloth, snoring lightly with a dagger close by his hoofs. Coming closer, he saw white bandages had been wrapped around the base of his wings, and the armor rested next to him on the ground; parts of it were cracked from the blow. Seeing the damage to the incredibly hard chitin, he was sure Saif would have died without it. To crack the shell of a scorpolid like that, one needed to hit it with almost the same force as a cannonball.

Whimpering next to Saif, the blue mare lay tucked in under a blanket. A damp cloth had been placed over her eyes, and the wound no longer reminded him of decaying flesh, fresh bandages had been given recently it seemed.

Athaal turned to Rishad, “How are they?” he inquired with a whisper and bowed his head.

The priest slowly closed the book and looked at him, “Your brother is fine, just a bruised rib and some beaten tendons in his wings. Her health, Trixie as your brother refers to her, is surprisingly good. A slight concussion it seems and apart from the wound on her shoulder, no other damages. It was however in good time that she got here, much longer and the wound would have been infected, and likely it would have meant her death; she is truly indebted to the two of you.”

“She cost Zubair and L’oohm their life, part with their own inexperience and my decision, of course, but nonetheless…” Athaal said absently.

Rishad rose and put a hoof on Athaal’s shoulder, “Don’t take all the blame upon yourself, you could not have seen this coming.”

“Perhaps not, but it could have been avoided if I had taken more experienced ponies with me. I thought L’oohm was experienced enough, at least that’s the impression he gave me…” Athaal noted with a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Not even the old and wise can see all ends, Athaal. You are still young, and inexperience clings to your decisions like a virus. You as a commander can only make decisions based on what information you have. If that information is altered, it is not your fault. You merely wanted to help your brother; no one can blame you for that wish. Such is the life that has been dealt to you.” Rishad quickly reasoned.

“I don’t know if their families will agree to that.”

“I’ll help you bring the news to them once we…you get home. Now, I think it would be best if you left, I’ll call you once they wake up.” The old priest almost ordered and seemingly pushed Athaal out.

“One more thing, Rishad,” He started, “I was wondering if you could hold a sermon for the fallen, we may not have the bodies, but I think it would help the soldiers to get some closure.”

“That’s no problem, Athaal, I’ll make sure to do it right away, there’s nothing more I can do for her right now. She only needs her rest.” He answered.

Athaal wandered over to his own tent, happy that the friends of the fallen would get a little closure. If not perfect, it was a something. He carefully opened the flap, by the looks of it, there was nothing more to do than to wait for their recovery. He approached Moxie, who was still sleeping and snoring lightly. He gently kissed her and donned his armor and sword before heading out. He decided that a stroll to clear his head would be welcome now, and he was curious about the wildlife in the valley.

Quickly reaching the river he heard earlier, he filled up his canteen and took fresh gulps of water before moving deeper into the forest. Looping over crags and fallen trees and pushing aside branches threatening to whip him as he passed, he enjoyed the serenity. The sun barely glinted through the damp leaf roof, leaving the forest itself like a moist cave. Colorful creatures could be spotted at each corner if one bothered to look.

The river ended into a small lake, perfectly covered by an encirclement of trees. From the cracked stone wall, water ran down into a small waterfall. Athaal had the feeling he arrived at the right time, for the sun now hit the fall of water and embraced it in a perfect rainbow. He felt the water with the tip of his hoof, and decided to try a swim. As he unhooked his armor and sword he spotted a doe carefully following him with a curious stare; it finally decided he was not a threat, and returned its attention to the water.

Athaal submerged himself and pushed from the edge and floated on his back, the chilly water soothing his muscles. He closed his eyes and hummed. Something bothered him greatly, and it wasn’t the fact that they had taken at least a day detour to save someone he had never heard about before. What boggled him most was that the Trixie mare was still alive, with minimum damage done to her. It was well known that Linacs often indulged in fresh pony meat if they came over it. So why not this time? Why keep her locked up in a cage for transportation?

He dove underwater and set for the edge again, quickly climbing up, and started donning his armor. His wife and brother knew something more about this mare, something in the way Saif addressed Moxie. The mention of blue changed it. Athaal grumbled, remembering what Moxie had said at their wedding night. Could it be the same mare as back in Canterlot? No, for her to be here would be more than a coincidence. If that was the case, Moxie would have told him; he was sure of that.

He strafed deeper into the woods, keeping close to a make-believe path near the rocky walls. Instead of letting the thoughts of the unknown mare fill his head, he focused on finding a suitable path towards the other side of the valley. From what he saw, staying near the walls would be the better solution. The lack of light seemed to affect the growth, leaving it simple to cut a path for a cart. The valley seemed to have been untouched by civilization for eons, wildlife roaming free here which he would only believe in fairy tales. The further into the shadows he came, the more he felt the need to preserve this area. If they managed to expand their territory a little further, trips could be arranged here and scientists could map out the large variety of life it seemed to have. The colorful plants, in forms unknown to him, were surely viable to be used in potions and medicine.

At the edge of his vision he saw a cave and he stopped. His mind jumped again towards the imminent threat of Linacs. He began a long climb up the rocky slope of wall to investigate. Shafts of light that beamed down began to grow and merge together as he made his way closer to the canopy. The green vegetation that clung to the rocks he mounted began to fade the higher he climbed, vines hanging from the treetops becoming fewer. Once he reached above the trees little of green was left to be seen upwards. Finally above the leafy roof, Athaal neared the mouth of the cave. Panting slightly from the climb, he turned to see the lay of the land; he almost lost his breath. What could only be seen as a scar in the sand from above, hid something mysterious and beautiful. He saw above the trees, and they grew so tight that it looked like a compact floor which separated the ecosystem underneath from the one above. Far away he saw large lizards with wings letting out powerful screeches as they flew onwards. At first glance, they looked like dragons, but much smaller. His eyes wandered the teetered walls and he saw dozens of them protecting their large nests from others. Along the sides, the rivers rumored to run underneath the desert supplied water to the valley in large waterfalls, some all the way from the top, and another from the middle. As light hit them, makeshift rainbows appeared. He marveled as he took in the sight. It seemed like the middle of the valley lived in a certain bubble, where everything was unique. At the other side he saw it turning smaller and encroaching upwards, much like the path they entered. Turning his attention to the lower part of the valley, he saw it riddled with caves as far as his eyes could see. Some were smaller than others, but all seemed big enough to hide within. Standing for an uncertain amount of time, he began the climb down. If the Linacs decided to come after them, these caves would become invaluable.

Looking up at the sky, signs that it neared afternoon came too. The sun stood at its highest peak, scorching the smaller areas in the lower valley. For now, till Saif and Trixie woke up, there was nothing more to do than to wait and take the small time they had to spare and relax. He took a large sip of water and headed back to the camp, pleased that his muscles now finally began to lessen their soreness.

Encroaching closer to the camp, he halted as he saw the form of Morad sitting near the edge of it waiting patiently for him. The stallion had jet black hair, dark brown eyes, strong jawline and a strong physique. His mane was hidden well underneath his helmet, but a few strands of blonde hair poked down his forehead. He looked up as a few branches broke underneath Athaal, and at that moment a smile crossed the soldiers lips, a smile which made Athaal frighteningly uneasy for some reason.

Morad bowed, “Athaal, honor be with you, may I take some of your time?” he asked in a dark voice.

Athaal squinted slightly at him before he bowed, “Honor be with you, Morad, what do you require?” he returned with a question, bowing only slightly, for his rank was much greater than the one he talked with.

Recognizing the bow only as a formality, Morad’s smile turned into a half, tugging far back on his right cheek. “I wish to speak of the payment of Sati and I.”

Furrowing his brows slightly, Athaal cocked his head. The last soldier, Sati was a thin stallion, but knew his way in combat. He was apparently a good friend of Morad from the way he spoke. “We have our agreed price. I promised to pay more to you all, but nothing more than that.” He lastly said and dismissed further talk.

“Ah, I understand.” The soldier laughed, then his features turned dark as he turned his eyes to Athaal. “I can however not agree, both Sati and I feel we are entitled to more, perhaps the pay that were to go to Zubair and L’oohm, as well as ours.”

Athaal’s throat clenched slightly, “That is already promised to their families left behind. It’s out of the question.”

“Figure something out then,” Morad rose and bowed again, only slightly this time. “If not, Sati and I will leave for home, no matter the consequences.”

Immediately reaching for his sword, Athaal pulled it out halfway and stopped. Morad remained unmoving, his eyes fixed at him. This soldier knew that Athaal couldn’t afford to go back for a new squad. Every muscle tensed as he considered killing this soldier where he stood for his blatant lack of respect, thinking nothing more of it than that. But even more his heart screamed for him to stop, to not risk any more for the sake of Moxie. His hoof nearly vibrated upon the hilt of his blade. He did not know how long he stood like that, but in the end he sheathed his blade with a resigned sigh. Not even then did Morad flinch.

“Very well, you’ll have it your way...” He lastly said, and the moment he did, Morad smiled at him, then ventured back into the camp as nothing had happened.

Athaal remained still till he saw Morad had taken a place next to Sati. He wondered how the soldier had planned to get out of this. Once they returned to Ma’galag it would be easy for Athaal to get him hanged for this grossly overstep of duty and honor. Morad was bound to have something else planned. Athaal decided, under no circumstances would he be allowed near Moxie again.

A familiar voice pulled him out of his anger filled thoughts. He instantly began to walk again, leaping over stubs and puddles that were on the short way he had left to the camp. Saif sat together with Arien and Kazim, happily eating while looking at the map and nodding as the two veterans discussed loudly. Kazim pointed towards him as he entered the clearing, and Saif looked up. The moment he saw his brother on his feet he pushed aside all worries, for now was a short time of joy.

Athaal hurried over and embraced his brother, earning him a shallow whimper. “Still that bad?” He inquired.

Saif rubbed his chest, “Yeah. Nothing’s broken, but sure feels like it when you do that.”

“How about Trixie, is she awake? I want to leave as soon as possible.” Athaal wondered.

“She slept last I checked,” his brother shook his head.

Athaal sat down, “We’ll wait then…” he looked around, “The soldiers seems happier, has the sermon been done while I was away?” He asked.

“Yes, it was not anything of what you’d see in the temple, but it helped. Some of the soldiers even offered donations to Rishad after he was done.” Arien chuckled. “The priest quickly returned to his tent once it was over.”

Athaal smiled, “I’m glad,” he turned to Kazim, “I saw some caves while I was in the forest. I think we should keep those in mind. In case we’re pursued, they will make a nice hiding place.”

Arien turned his head towards the forest, “That is a good idea, but do you remember where you saw them?” he asked while Kazim nodded in agreement.

Athaal scrunched his forehead and looked at the map. “If we follow the left wall two paces, we will be able to see them.” He placed a hoof on a part of the map. “From what I saw, the valley is riddled with such caves. The only thing we need to worry about is what kind of wildlife those caves hide. I would prefer not stumbling upon a dune alligator while hiding.” He also explained the marvel he just had witnessed, and how they needed to come back here with an expedition.

Kazim nodded and rose, “I’ll go take a look, I prefer to see it myself before I lay tactics based upon it.” He picked up his weapon and turned to Athaal, “If that is fine by you?” he asked, and bowed deeply to make sure no insult was added.

“Yeah, the more eyes that have seen it, the better we can plan forward.” Athaal agreed.

“I’ll join you,” Arien said and rose.

Athaal beckoned Saif to join him, wanting no more casualties like the one they just had, he figured it would be best to train the soldiers with what little time they had to spare. Saif reluctantly agreed, and from the way he kept looking over towards the white tent, it became obvious for Athaal that his brother much rather would want to stay closer to her than anything else.

The two veterans left quickly, leaving the two brothers back to round up the squad and prepare them for any future confrontations. At first, it was difficult getting them to focus. They chattered between themselves and laughed in the unexpected day rest they had gotten. It was not until Saif mentioned what had happened to Zubair and L’oohm they became quiet. Death was normal on expeditions, and most of the time it passed without many noticing their absence, but in a small squad like this, every life counted. Most had thought themselves finished with the matter after the sermon it seemed, though. The details of the two’s death had not been told before now, and Athaal saw some of the morale vanishing from the soldiers at the thought of facing these beasts.

Time passed quickly as they showed them what to aim for and what to watch for. To much of his joy, Athaal saw Moxie emerging from the tent and smiling towards him. He smiled warmly back and watched as she sat down in the shadows, watching them from afar. Reluctantly, he returned his attention to the squad once more and continued their training.

“Athaal!” A shout from Rishad interrupted them. “She’s coming ‘round!”

Both Athaal and Saif hurried along to the tent and entered, stopping only once they reached Rishad. Athaal stepped to the side, letting his brother near the bedside. The blue form stirred, and her eyes, violet in color, shot open and looked straight at them. She let a bone shrilling screech echo through the tent. It was loud enough for their ears to begin ringing and the flak of birds nearby as they took off in panic could be heard.

While Athaal covered his ears, Saif put a hoof over her mouth. “It’s okay, Trixie; you’re safe.”

Her eyes, filled with terror, flacked over the room before they landed on Saif. “S- Spectrum…?” she lastly squeaked in a raspy, dry voice.

“Spectrum?” Athaal asked out loud, struggling to understand her Equestrian words with his limited knowledge of the language.

Saif’s cheeks turned slightly red, “I’ll explain later, just let it go for now.” he replied quickly in their mother tongue.

“What’s going on? Who are you ponies?” she inquired carefully.

“You don’t remember?” Saif asked.

She shook her head and flinched, taking a hoof to her wounded shoulder. “Trixie…” her expression changed from confusion to horror as the recent events seemingly dawned on her. Her jaw hung open as she turned to Saif. Her lower lip quivered and her eyes turned moist, and slowly her body began to shiver.

Saif quickly leaned forward and embraced her, “They’re gone now, you’re safe.” He whispered.

Trixie burrowed her muzzle into Saif’s mane and let out low sobs. Seeing his brother flinch at her touch, yet remaining for her to cling onto, he almost forgot what he wanted to do. Athaal quickly glanced over at Rishad, who shook his head. They reached a silent agreement. Whatever she was doing outside in the desert could not be answered tonight. Most of all, she would need help to recover, in solitude with Saif. Athaal bowed to Saif, declaring his departure. Tomorrow would bring another day, and tomorrow would give them time to plan ahead.

Athaal squinted as the sun hit his eyes, and he approached Moxie. She was sitting upon a pillow, still in the shadow she placed herself earlier. He nuzzled her, receiving a smile as he sat down. Just able to take his breath, he noticed the worried glanced that came from the soldiers and Moxie.

“How is she?” she asked hesitantly.

“She’s in shock. We won’t figure out what she was doing out there until tomorrow.” He informed.

“That’s not so bad,” Moxie answered with a brave smile.

“Every day counts, even hours…” he said, and looked at her with a deep frown, scrunching his brows slightly.

She put a hoof on the side of his cheek and kissed him gently. “I’m fine for another day, as long as we have the serum I’ll manage.” She said.

“But what of the day after that? Or once we get closer to the graveyard? Will you be fine then? Or will we be late?” He blurted out, frustration and worry manifesting itself as a turning stomach, which at times threatened to rid him of whatever food he had.

She pushed him down, laying him on his back and lying down beside him, nuzzling the groove of his neck. “It will be fine, I’m sure of it. Please, don’t worry so much.” She whispered in a soft voice.

Pressure left his head, and he decided to enjoy the moment now, instead of worrying of what might come ahead. They lay like that, letting unknown amount of time pass. It was not until the cold winds nipped in them that they decided to go inside the tent to rest. Saif was still with Trixie and Kazim and Arien had not returned yet.

*~*~*~*~*

Moxie’s eyes slowly opened to adjust for the dark of night, but the pulsing blue from her forehead interrupted her. She stretched and snuggled a little closer to Athaal, who slept heavily behind her. His breath tingled her ears, causing her to shudder slightly. After a short while she felt her body slowly waking to life, and hearing the crackle of fire from outside she decided to get up before she woke him. He had spent the day training the squad, and dealt with all the turbulence with Trixie, so she concluded he needed the rest.

Exiting, she saw a single figure near the bonfire shifting through the embers with a stick. The silver helm gleamed in the light as she approached. She cleared her throat, making the figure turn. The old, battle worn face of Arien greeted her with a smile.

“I thought the night watch was supposed to be at a vantage point.” She curiously asked.

He pointed up towards the hill, “They are, my Lady.” He answered in a calm voice.

She let her eyes wander up the walls toward where he pointed. In the grossly incandescent form of the moon she saw a silhouette of a pony sitting lonesome up on a rock, embraced by the twinkles of stars upon a pitch black screen. As she watched, a pang of guilt hit her chest. If not for her, that pony would have possibly been sitting at home with his beloved one.

She turned to Arien, “Would you mind if I joined you?” she carefully asked.

The old pony shook his head and smiled, “No, not at all.”

She sat down opposite of him, grunting slightly as she shifted her position more comfortably, and let out a sigh of relief once it was found.

Arien looked at her, “How’s the foal doing, if you don’t mind me asking?” he said while prodding the fire with his stick.

She smiled and let a hoof rest on her stomach, “I don’t mind at all. It’s doing fine, though still kicking now and then.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He answered, and silence quickly fell between them.

She sat still for a moment, gazing into the hypnotizing cinders; their warmth caressed her cheeks. She turned and looked upwards, momentarily blinded by the light of the flames. Hearing him shift the coal around, she turned to him.

“Why do you sit out here, when it’s clearly not your shift?” she asked and nodded towards the silhouette.

“I enjoy the silence; not much more to say.” He turned his gaze at her and smiled, “The night is so different from the day… so sincere, sort of.”

“I guess you can look at it like that.” She started, “I’ve always feared the night, something about it makes my skin crawl. I always feel like the unknown is a sinister kind; and it hides in the dark.”

Arien looked heavenwards, “I don’t know about that. For some it might be just that, sinister, while for others like me, it may be a place where you can relax and perhaps show the true you. And whatever you do will remain between you and the stars, or perhaps the pony you chose to spend that time with.”

“Why would you want to hide? You’re a stallion, you can do more or less anything you want.” The gimpy winged pegasus inquired.

He looked at her and bowed, “Why does the lady ask?” Arien wondered calmly.

“I- I… I didn’t mean—“ Moxie fumbled her words, still not used to stallions treating her as one of higher rank.

The veteran smiled slightly, “I beg pardons if I upset you,” he said and looked at her, uncertain how to respond, she simply shook her head. He sighed, “To answer the lady’s question… I do know how it is to be different in our society. Having… tastes different from what they deem acceptable. Yes, stallions are freer than you, but to act as we wish, or have desires for is not granted.”

“What do you mean?”

Arien looked at her a long time before he turned at the fire again. “You seem like the understanding kin…” He started, “I do not wish for a mare by my side. It is not my desire, but because of our country, what I long for is something I can’t legally have.” He said in a sullen tone, and turned his head upwards again, his stare turning distant. “I guess that’s why I gaze at stars. I don’t know why, but it comforts me.”

She looked at the old pony in front of her, just seconds ago, she had seen him as a strong resilient leader. But now that she looked at him, she saw only a hurt soul seeking comfort in the solitude that night offered him, when no one could judge him for who he was.

She swallowed and gazed away, uncertain of what to say. In her short life, she knew what solitude was and how it felt. From the days sitting alone in a room, hidden away from others because of her wing. The ponies around her back then. A mock attempt from her mother to find an acceptable social group. The selected few allowed to see the broken daughter of Fayah. Back then, she had felt the loneliest, sometimes to the brink of tears. She was forced to be together with those who mocked her when she wasn’t around. She saw the feeling from back then perfectly reflected in Arien, a smile without happiness and eyes a portal to the sadness hidden within.

“Does Athaal know?” She lastly squeaked through the silence.

Arien looked at her and smiled, “He knows. He’s not comfortable with the idea that a stallion wishes to be with another stallion. But he ignores it and chooses to look at me as he would with anypony else, and judge me based on my actions.” He said and let his voice fade.

The sound of pebbles crunching, made both of them turn. The guard stationed upon the rock was making his way down towards them. Arien rose, “It’s time for a change,” He simply stated. He stretched a hoof towards Moxie and helped her up. “It’s my turn to stand guard, so I must bid you good night.” He said and bowed deeper to her than ever before.

“I better get some more sleep as well.” She reasoned and started for her tent.

“Moxie,” Arien called, causing her to turn again, “It was nice having company for once, thank you. I’d welcome your companionship at any time.”

Her lips curled up into a smile, “Yes, it was nice… we should do it again.” She said in a warm voice. As she walked back to her bed, it boggled her that her country allowed itself to choke the diversity that could be found within its citizens. Shrugging away the thoughts for tonight, she lay down and nuzzled closer to Athaal before she let the world disappear.

Comments

[Municipal Engines]

Oh boy, things are heating up in the ranks and Said and Moxie really should have told Athaal Trixie's identity. He's going to feel doubly betrayed since his brother and the mare he loves are deceiving him.

[Lord Legion]

Ah yes, the long awaited sequel. I remember reading the first story so long ago. Then I see this in the update box now I am really curious what happens. Just gotta start reading lol. I'm glad I found this sequel.

[Ben Cooney]

Wow, that title picture looks so sweet!
And I was just wandering around FimFiction to come across this!
Like my ship? (Profile pic)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wF_xEJSmZ-s

[BlackRoseBrony]

Oh my, Athaal is going to be so mad when he hears the truth..

[Bad_Seed_72]

Damn... Poor Arien. If I were him, I would take advantage of Equestrian asylum in a heartbeat. :/

And Moxie and Saif are just making it worse by not telling Athraal. He'll find out sooner than later.