The Mark of Eran

by Tofazz

Chapter 8: Fasad

Fasad

Silence had at last fallen within the group. The sermon they held took time, and it was normally much louder. Chants and bells should have been performed. A priest passing on by battle was harsh, and everypony knew they were untouchable by the politics and murders within. If a noble as much as tried to hire an assassin to kill somepony in the temple, he would be executed promptly. When one did pass, they celebrated a long life in the service of Eran with kindness and benevolence. Rishad had been an object of wonder, his actions ringing true to all that which made a priest.

It saddened Saif that Kazim would not get the proper burial he so much deserved as well for his service, nor would he get a shrine at which the ritual was performed at. Secluding himself in one of the temple bedchambers, he meditated in silence; only the faint spark of the small fire he had made in front of him broke his reverence. The flicker of light painted the gray walls, showing the mold and age on it. Small embers flew up in the air and joined black fragments that lingered there; they were almost impossible to see with the naked eye, but each time the ember hissed with contact.

Saif finally drew his aquamarine blade out of its sheath and placed it with care on the ground. It was all he had left from his father, and it came only fitting that it would be used to say goodbye to someone like Kazim. He lifted the blade and let the flames lick the green edge till it was glowing. With trained motions and careful pressure, he ran it down his now exposed wrist and cut slightly. Blood began to drip and he held his hoof over the flames, first letting drops fall down in a hiss, then he brought it down so the flames licked the wound, closing it quickly. The smell of burnt fur and boiling blood came from it and quickly vanished.

He placed both his hoofs firmly to the ground and bowed, thanking his master for the service he had done, and asked for a last gift of strength to deliver the message to his remaining pupils. He felt no anger, no contempt or anything akin towards the linacs. It was their nature, as much as it was his nature to fight; there was only regret of not being able to take his council once more.

He heard hoofs striking the ground behind him; he was sure that it was Athaal, for the slight limp after the fight was prominent in his step. His brother remained stoic next to him, watching intently with a certain pique curiosity. Saif knew there was no need to explain to him what he was doing, even if it was the first time he had seen him do this. When it came to grief, they handled it differently, but none would speak till the other was ready. After a few more bows, Saif picked up his wrist blade and hid the new wound. He blew on the blade, seeing the shining green color glow less till it faded to the normality that allow it to be returned to its sheath.

Saif turned to Athaal and bowed, “Is there anything the matter?” he asked.

“We need to talk about what we’ll do now.” Athaal said and nodded his head towards the larger fireplace.

“I’ll be there soon.” Saif said, returning his attention to the fire again.

Athaal placed a hoof on his shoulder, pinching it slightly. He wanted to offer his condolences, but to speak of the dead was to call forth bad luck. Those passed on needed peace to walk the endless halls till they reached their destination, if their name was mentioned it would only increase the time it took for the soul of the fallen to come at peace.

Athaal sat down next to him and looked at his wristblade, wonder and amazement obvious in his eyes. Saif smiled at his brother’s curiosity. The moments they shared growing up were both good and bad. Petty squabbles and sibling rivalry lead to fights and angry scolding from their mother became both of their punishments. Together, after their time had been served in their rooms, they would come together and plot their next move, everything from earlier forgotten between them. As they grew, those moments became rare, and as Saif entered the watanï academy, it vanished completely. He closed his eyes. It was not because of Athaal it stopped, for he tried to learn as much as he could about what Saif went through. No. It was all on him; a fear of pain looming over him from his foal hood. The pain he would feel if they became separated scared him more than any horde of linac did. So he did the only thing he knew, pushed his brother away and remained close to protect him. At the time, he did what he thought was best, even if he saw how it hurt Athaal. But now, was there much point to push him further away?

Saif unhinged his wristblade again, and rolled up his other sleeve to expose two wounds; he pointed at the left one. “When you join the academy, you’re given a mentor together with other recruits. We create a unified bond between the mentor and ourselves. ‘We are not family by blood, but we are family by choice; the bond given shall not be broken until death.’ That’s the general idea, and the words we use to close the sermon. To signify our bond, we cut open a wound over our artery. It’s our lifeline, so it shows our dedication; and that we always have the mentor with us.” He pointed at the newly made wound, “After our mentor dies, we need to release part of the spirit we carry with us. If not, he will never be able to pass to the other side. Letting the blood fall on the flames send the remnant of the soul to its host, thus ending our contract.” Saif said and put on his wristblade, his face returning to its stoic form.

Athaal looked at his own wrists and remained silent for a long time. “It’s odd… we live in the same country, yet it is like there are two vastly different cultures within it.” He said after time, reflecting on his own training and relationship within the guard.

Saif rose, “It is what makes us the best at what we do. Now, what did you have in mind?” He said and walked alongside his brother to where Arien waited for them.

They had purposely made a separate fire near the chamber which Moxie now slept in. Athaal did not want anyone too close to his wife after what had happened earlier. Namir relaxed in a corner in solitude, shied away from the light of the fire. The watanï barely looked up as they passed, but gave a nod of respect towards Saif. Kazim had not been Namir’s mentor as he had with Saif, but from the reaction his death brought to the recruit Saif was sure his mentor was well respected within the academy. Saif was unsure if the solitude Namir sought now was his way of grieving, or if it was because he preferred to remain alone; it was often a common trait with the watanï. In a sense he was glad it was Zubair that had fallen to the linacs, for the explosive personality of him would have made the group even more fragile than it already was.

The remaining soldiers, Morad and Sati, huddled together near the other bonfire, talking in hushed voices and scowling towards them as they passed. Merely the fact that Morad had demanded more pay to continue their trip left a bad taste with Saif. A soldier could put forth a request for a higher price than what was agreed upon if the challenges became more severe than planned. To even try to demand something from somepony that much higher up on the social ladder showed not only a lack of social integrity, but most likely also a cunning mind that saw the weakness within the group and exploited it knowing that Athaal could not risk losing them. At least that is what Athaal had told him after Moxie collapsed last night.

Athaal sat down near the entrance of the door leading to Moxie, and beckoned his brother to do the same. “In regards of what happened last night… I thought we would be able to escape that tribe of linacs by traveling at night, but it seems like they are determined to not let us get away from them.”

Saif nodded, a turmoil in his chest slowly growing, while his stomach knotted itself. It was by his request they had gone to save Trixie, and it was by his request they had died. And it was by his request Moxie might have fallen too ill to make the journey, and in that instant he knew that if it came to that, he would never be able to return home, whether his brother forgave him or not didn’t matter, he as a watanï would have failed. By putting his own needs and wants before the needs those he were to protect. His spirit would wander the halls endlessly in search for peace, which it would never find.

“We’ve lost four ponies to the linacs, two which were an inspiration. The morale of the rest are getting lower by the hour; if they desert us, I wouldn’t be surprised. Even if it means dishonor to them.” Arien added, his features reflected the distress he felt over losing Kazim, an old friend from when they had been younger.

It was understandable, Saif thought. It wouldn’t be surprising at all if he was taken to trial when they got home upon the request of any of the survivors. The lives of a high priest and a veteran watanï would need to be investigated. Much to Saif’s distress, he had taken his brother down the spiraling chain of events. He looked over at Athaal, who noticed his own poorly hidden distress and offered a smile. Athaal might have known what went on inside of Saif, but he chose not to bring it up. It seemed that he had settled to any consequence that might come for them.

“We also need to do something about Trixie.” Athaal rose a hoof at Saif. “Before you say anything. I think it is best that Moxie and her stay away from each other, at least until Moxie’s mind has settled. She blames the unicorn for what happened…I can’t say I blame her for doing just that. I’m afraid that any unnecessary confrontation will take precious energy from Moxie.” He quickly looked around, “Where is she anyway?”

“She mentioned something about wanting to be in peace while she read through the book Rishad gave her.” Arien said and pointed towards a large stone door leading further into the temple.

“Good, let her be alone for a while, but it will be your job to keep Trixie safe, Saif. That’s your one and only assignment for now, she’s the only way for Moxie to be cured. It might also be that you will need to defend her from our own if they decide to blame her for all that has happened on this trip, and that goes for yourself as well…” Athaal ordered.

Saif bowed deeply, grateful for Athaal’s understanding and care, “As you wish, my Lord.” He responded, and flinched slightly at the formality he had developed for his brother. “Is that all?” he said, wanting to get some time alone so he could meditate.

Athaal’s face turned into a pensive adagio, not for more than a second before he focused again. “Arien has some thoughts.” He said and waved permission to the general to speak, but eyes never leaving Saif.

“In short: we need help.” Arien stated and looked hard at Saif. “If the linacs continue to pursue us, and it’s likely they will do just that, we need to get the attention from the Equestrian border post. They know our distress signals, and in agreement to our political ties, they will respond to it if they hear it. We had a horn with us, but it was in the cart, I don’t think anypony took it with them when we fled the scene. We need to go back no matter what, for the medicine needed for Moxie was dropped as well.”

“I would go and pick it up myself, but I need to rest until my ribs get somewhat better at least.” Athaal frowned and pointed at the bandages around his chest. “Any suggestions?”

He leaned back. It would be natural for him to go, as was his duty. As was his duty to now keep Trixie safe from harm. Arien could go, but it was probably better if he stayed and tried to keep the soldiers morale and spirit up as best as he could. Another option would be to take Trixie with him, but she would probably be less willing to do that. All things considered, Moxie was in the least amount of danger from anything, she was not to blame for any of it. The only option not acceptable was to wait for Athaal’s ribs to heal, it would take too long.

After a long silent minute, Saif leaned forward again. “If you take watch over the two mares for a few hours tonight, I’ll be able to get out, get the horn and ingredients, and be back before anything happens. I would try to take Trixie with me, but she would refuse. I think the events of the last few days have scarred her more than she lets on.”

Athaal shifted slightly in place, seemingly not liking the idea much. “I assume that’s the best way to do it, are you sure you want to do it alone?” He lastly asked.

“Yes, I prefer solitary work, then I’d have no one else to worry about; remember what happened last time.” Saif said, thinking back and L’oohm and Zubair. He rose, “Now, if you will excuse me, I have ponies to keep separated.” He added, trying his best to add light humor to their situation.

Athaal nodded, “Notify me before you leave.” He said before he dismissed him and returned his attention to caring for his wife.

Morad and Sati stopped their chatter as he passed by them, fixing him with an angry glare. He halted and returned the stare and the two quickly returned to going over the details of their armor. Saif sighed and walked through the large stone door. He was in no position to judge them, his actions had killed four ponies, and endangered everypony else. The backlash of this when he got home did not worry him, what worried him was that the soldiers might leave, or worse, try to kill them.

Amongst the wall of the room he enteres there was letters chiseled into the stone, each word seemed to have their own meaning, or giving name to a place within the room itself. The one closest to the door was almost unreadable from the dust that had gathered over the years. Saif quickly brushed over the letter and read out loud, ‘Path of the Righteous’. Turning, he marveled at the architecture of it. It spread out into the mountains, far to the sides, with pylons stretched out to the very end of it just a few hoofs a part. At certain instances there were large gaps between them, marking walkways towards different parts of the temple, and each door had the eye of Eran chiseled over it; watching down at anyone which would pass under it. The air inside was thick with stone dust, whirling up as he walked, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth with each breath. The dust lay like fog behind him, and it almost danced like tiny fairies in the light that came from the slits near the roof.

At the end of each small pathway, it seemed to be some a shrine of some sort. Wax from burnt down candles, covered in cobs of web and dust; the crimson color barely shining through the layer. On each one there was a wooden stand to hold books, seemingly untouched for eons. Saif wondered as he passed how life in here was, and why they left so abruptly.

He stopped, near the shrine a bundle of clothing caught his attention. He got near and carefully pulled the brown fabric to the side, revealing a skeleton of a unicorn; clutching tightly to a book. Saif leaned closer, the bones having large black crystal growths, seemingly leaving it brittle and weak; for where the crystals were bigger, the bones had shattered.

He carefully took hold of the book and pulled in it, smoldering the bones holding it with a small movement. He backed away holding a hoof over his muzzle, not wanting to breathe in the bone dust. Once away, he sat down and started to remove layer upon layer of old dust upon the book. What greeted him was runes in old Saddle-Arabian, together with an eye looking at him, both in faded golden color.

He looked up, knowing that he should go and find Trixie, but curiosity was getting the better of him and he opened the book. The text was too old and cryptic for him to understand, but there was certain illustrations that piqued him. It seemed like the book itself was holding information about a special condition involving unicorns. It morphed their horns, it went from a short swirled horn to a large sharp horn with a red tip. From what he could understand, the addition of this to a unicorn greatly increased its powers, giving it access to magic normally only the demigods had access too, the normal auras went from light in color to a deep purple.

In the middle of the book, there was a segment showing the different effects on the pony races. From what he understood of the drawings, the unicorns had a chance of maintaining the empowered magic, while the rest died gruesome deaths, the drawings showed ponies with jagged black crystals growing out of them. While the pegasi and normal ponies merely died; notes seemed to hint at the lack of horn and basic magic capabilities was the cause.

He shut the book and rose. There was a limit to what he would be able to understand from this book alone while he was unable to read it. His mind began to work, the marks in the drawings reminded him of the one upon Moxie’s forehead, and the one his father had before he died. He knew the plague that swept over the kingdom decades ago, but it was never mentioned in the history earlier than that, perhaps the first outbreak had forced them to move from the temple and build a city? Athaal would be very interested in this find, but Rishad being the only one whom might have been able to read it; it was a limit to what they would understand until they got back home.

His ears flickered as he heard the sound of a page being flicked, the echo in the empty room made it hard to locate the origin. He crossed to the far edge, sure that he was getting closer to the sound; confirmed by the small flicker of lights he saw. The moment he crossed the door leading out of the large hall, he saw the azure unicorn sitting secluded in a corner of the stone gray room. Her horn being the source of light, she looked slightly up from the book as he approached her, remaining motionless, her face a mask of still determination.

He sat down next to her, remaining quiet for a while, his eyes wandering over her form. “How are you faring?” he lastly asked in a slightly awkward Equestrian voice, uncertain if she had used the translation spell yet.

“There’s no need for you to speak in the horrid accent of yours, I understand Saddle-Arabian perfectly well. As for your question, yes, I am faring rather well.” She responded sharply, then looked at him. “Thank you for asking, I’m grateful for it.”

At first slightly irritated by the brashness in her response, his attention shifted towards her slight smile. Even as it vanished in a second, it was enough for him to feel a slight tingle within him. His stomach grew to a pit, but rather than painful, it sent a delightful shudder and warmth to his very limbs. He tried thinking of a response, but his mind remained a blank slate.

She raised a brow at him, seeing him remaining dumbfounded, and again her lips tugged into a careful smile which she tried to hide from him. She flicked another page, “Ever since the old one touched me, I’ve had a need to read this book, I’ve yet to understand why.” She said, a tone of wonder apparent in her voice.

“Rishad…” Saif interjected, knowing he shouldn’t say the name, but it was important for him that Trixie understood.

“What?”

“His name was Rishad,” He stated.

“I assume you’d know that better than me,” she responded, slightly annoyed over being corrected.

Saif looked sternly at her, “I don’t know how you do it in Equestria, but here we pay respects to our fallen, especially those whom died for a noble cause.”

“Just because you give your life for somepony, or something, does not mean it was the right thing to do.” She retorted.

“Perhaps not for you, but it was for him, and we respect him for it. You should also respect him, and honor his memory for saving your life…” He stated with a harsh tone in his voice.

She fell silent for a while, staring at nothing, her brows furrowed in thoughtfulness. “You’re right...” she said, breaking the silence. “What are you doing here anyway? I wanted some peace.” She asked and turned a skeptical look his way.

“Orders from Athaal, I’m keeping you safe, and keeping you away from Moxie. I could think of worse ponies to protect.” He said and tried a smile at her.

“Protect me? Like you could stop one of those beasts if it came for me, and why should I stay away from Moxie?” she asked with a curious expression.

“In short, she blames you for what happened, and her mind is fragile, so we think it best not to upset her more than necessary.” Saif summarized quickly.

Trixie opened her mouth to say something in protest, but withdrew herself, a sullen shadow cast itself over her. They said nothing for a while, Saif knew that in time she would speak and when she did, he would listen intently to her. There was something special about this, it was almost like he had imagined a few times. Just sitting silently together, he wouldn’t trade moments like this for anything in the world, he began to understand how Athaal felt towards Moxie the more he spent time with Trixie. Yet, there was something odd about her exquisite beauty, the way she held him at length, a strangeness in proportion.

Any other would perhaps move on after what happened between them in Canterlot. To give up on something just because of that was an unbelievable tragedy for him. Parts of him imagined a future, perhaps not in Saddle-Arabia, not even in Canterlot; but the future he imagined was with her. A house, together, laughter as they spent long days in bed; in time, perhaps also a foal. These thoughts made him happy and no other mare managed to bring those to life within him than her. He snuck a view of her, feeling a warm smile split his lips as he did. He knew how he felt, but how to tell her remained a mystery to him.

“She’s right, isn’t she?” Trixie asked loudly and broke his daydreaming thoughts, her eyes still fixating out in the empty.

“Right about what?” he responded, feeling his cheek warm up slightly as he addressed her directly.

“That it is my fault… all of this.” She said cooly.

“No, it’s not… if anything, it is my fault.” He reasoned and sidled in closer to her.

“What?” Trixie looked at him with slight confusion.

Saif looked back, unsure how to approach her. He was trained to kill ponies, to defend those who needed, and to gather information. He faced all of those almost daily, but for the life of him, he could not manage to understand the mind of a mare. Sometimes, no matter what he said, they got angry. As alluring they might be at times, there was always a shrewd wickedness underneath, how often had he not been asked to save some noble from the complete delusion that beauty was akin to goodness. Time and time he had convinced himself that Trixie wasn’t like that, but his nature made him thread carefully; even if they had shared bedchambers multiple times.

He leaned slightly forward, taking time before he spoke, choosing his words carefully. “I persuaded my brother take the detour and help me to save you after we stumbled upon the linac camp where you were captured.” He explained.

“Why would you do that?!” Trixie growled at him.

Saif jerked back, almost striking the back of his head at the pillar. “Would you rather that I had left you to die?” he asked, feeling silly over even needing to ask it.

“No… I,” she stammered.

“Then what? I couldn’t just have let you be there.”

“I know… I am grateful for it...”

“Then what’s the matter?” he repeated.

“I don’t want ponies to die because of me! Is that so hard to understand?! I have nothing to offer them, I have no pony that would miss me at home! I am alone, no family, no special somepony! They probably had that, those who died trying to rescue me, they surely have someone waiting for them back home now, perhaps even a foal waiting for its father to come home again! They’re dead, because of me, an easily forgotten pony, I don’t want that, I don’t want to know that I’m the cause of some foal growing up without a father like I did!!” she barked at him, her eyes set an angry glare. A stone cold mask of anger directed at him, only to be betrayed by her lower lip, trembling slightly.

“I would miss you…” he responded, and to him it was the like the simplest fact that could be said. It remained truer to him than any sort of ritual.

She looked at him, a sad frown growing over her muzzle. “Why?” she simply asked.

“I don’t know, I honestly don’t.” he started, and slowly moved a bit closer to her. “It’s just… whenever you’re not around, I keep thinking about you, and I look forward to every single trip to Canterlot, because I get to be with you again. The way you talk, with confidence and passion, about anything; it makes me believe you can do anything you want to. You might not think you have anything to offer, but you offer a lot to me by just being you, and I know I would miss every part of it.” He confessed, his heart beat faster, threatening to jump out of his chest, he felt more vulnerable than he would in a hive of scorpolids. Even with each single word remaining true to him, they all were heavy and difficult for him to speak.

Her frown remained, but her hard stare softened slightly. Saif hoped he didn’t cross the line, he normally didn’t care much about what mares thought of him, he needed release, and they gave it; but with Trixie it was something else. She turned her gaze away, remaining silent; and he remained stoic, admiring her in the edge of his vision.

“You should save yourself the heartache…” she said, breaking the silence, she closed her eyes and took a deep, pained breath. “There’s nothing more I can give you, what we had in Canterlot was without commitment, and that is what made it work.”

“I don’t want to let it go just like that, I want to try, and I’m sure that you would as well. I can ask my brother to release me from my duty as a watanï, and I can claim my noble land again. There would be no more life threatening tasks, it would just be you and me; Athaal would not oppose it.” Saif explained.

Her eyes turned hard again, “Stop it!” she said loudly and slammed the book shut. “Just drop it… I prefer being alone, that’s the way it has always been, and it is for the best.” She snapped at him, if she had any qualms about what she said, she hid it well, not even her eyes gave away her inner turmoil. “That way no one gets hurt.” She lastly whispered and averted her gaze from him.

He sighed, he expected a response like this, but it didn’t stop him from getting a faint tug in his chest. He considered leaving, but until dawn his orders were to remain with her, no matter what. He saw her form shift slightly away from him, tighter into the wall. He rose and sat down further away from her, near one of the pillars. He leaned back and closed his eyes.

“Why are you still here?” Trixie asked after a bit.

“As I said, orders, they don’t change with our feelings.” He plainly answered.

“Fine, but remain quiet, I need to figure this spell out.” She ordered.

“If that’s what you want…”

He figured that he might get some sleep, the soothing sound of her aura, a soft hum. Occasionally interrupted by the flick of a page, and the sound of her clearing her throat. The way those sounds came together within this room made him relax, and he enjoyed every bounce off the walls.

He opened his eyes, a thought crawled up his mind, and he quickly took out the book he found earlier. If Rishad had given Trixie the knowledge he had over the Saddle-Arabian language, perhaps he also gave her the knowledge over some other language he might have known. He quickly got up and walked over to her again. He wanted to know what was in this book for more than one reason, it could perhaps shed some light to what was happening to Moxie, as well as his parents.

“Trixie,” He said, gaining her attention. “Do you have any problems with the text in that book?”

“No, it all goes by fluently, I already told you this.” She answered with a quizzical expression.

“Have you tried reading any other text?”

She raised a brow at him, “There are so many books I can read out in this desert…” she answered in mockery of the question.

Ignoring his irritation he placed the book in front of her, “Can you try reading this?”

She carefully flicked through a few pages, scrunching her muzzle as she mouthed the words. “Yes, but it’s harder.” She eventually said.

He quickly flicked through the pages and found the part he had been looking through earlier. “Can you tell me what this text says?”

She sighed and closed the other book, “Yes, give me a moment…” she flicked through the book, “these illustrations are gruesome.” She commented before she read out loud.

“By letting the mixture of a goron’s heart, the stinger of a manticore, the bonemarrow from each of the races boil over the pureflame heart for weeks, we have managed to create the mixture we sought. Now all we need is to administer it to different subjects and watch over the effects.

“The unicorn is showing promise, but the pegasi and earthen ponies are lacking the magical strength the let the serum work. They all die it seems, some slower than normal, but they all succumb: Their bones are turning black, and the moment they’re eyes are filled with blackness, they die.

“The unicorns show different effects, they don’t get the black marks all over them, but rather getting black crystallization on their horns over long time. Their magical abilities are increasing day by day.

“It seems that the crystals on the horn of the unicorns have different effects, some of the unicorns had the black crystals grow on their bones, killing them as the crystals hit internal organs. One subject had the crystals completely avoiding anything vital, so he survived, if you could call it that… the crystal grew large enough to be visible without cutting them open, the unicorn became unable to move, or use magic, but he was alive.

“There is one unicorn left, all others have died, the one with the crystals growing out of him finally succumbed The last one left shows potential, his horn is slowly changing into a more powerful catalyst, taking the color of the crystals, seemingly having a red tip. Perhaps in time this unicorn will be able to use the black magic we’ve only seen alicorns use. If he will be able to do so, our research will be a success.

“The unicorn finally managed to master the alicorn magic, but he used it to escape his chains, so our research have been in vain, we have nothing to show for all those lives we lost.

“It seems like the mixture has evolved into an airborne disease, perhaps this is the work of the unicorn, a last lesson before he vanished? Without crystals he will die soon enough, his body will be eaten by the power; that is at least some comfort. It does seem however that he has managed to punish us all, the disease is impossible to cure so far. Pegasi and earth ponies die with blackened eyes, together with the loss of their senses. While unicorns suffer horribly as the crystallization of their bones eats them up from within.

“It seems like Eran has forgiven us, for we have found a cure. It is costly, but—“ Trixie stopped and squinted down. “The rest is covered up with blood.” She stated, her nose scrunching slightly in disgust.

Saif mumbled, “They dabbled with the power of gods, and almost killed an entire nation… and we still suffer for it.” His mind in complete disarray over the new discovery. As his mind worked over the new information he shot his head upwards, the unicorn had an uncanny resemblance to the old tale of Sombra, could it be that these priests caused the fall of an empire?

“What are you talking about?” Trixie said, still sitting relatively calm in her place, she did not share his concern of the identity of the unicorn from how she sat.

“What you just read is a research journal, or a diary, that’s not important. But it seems that this temple is the origin of the disease that almost wiped out Saddle-Arabia as a nation a few hundred years ago. Is there any date in there?” he asked, pushing his mind over to something else for now, he needed to talk to Athaal and Arien about this information.

Trixie flipped through the pages, and stopped. “The latest entry is a little bit over a thousand years old.” She froze and looked at him, “Is Moxie afflicted by this, is this why you’re traveling over the desert?” she asked with a sudden tone of worry in her voice.

“Yes, Rishad was supposed to cast the spell once we got the bone marrow of a dragon from the nearby graveyard.” He looked at her, “That task has fallen upon you now.” He stated, badly hiding his surprise that Athaal hadn’t filled her in.

He looked up, seeing the light losing its strength through the slits in the roof. Had he dozed off that long? He forced his mind to focus, he knew that he would need to get to the wreckage again soon. Once he had returned from it he could discuss the findings with Arien and Athaal. He took the book from Trixie and offered her a hoof, to his surprise she took it and rose, all with a slight smile crossing her lips.

Her magic aura picked up the book Rishad had given her, and she walked next to him through the temple. He was so focused now at the task ahead that he barely noticed how her aura shifted his cowl slightly. But she didn’t touch him, and whenever he looked backwards at her, her eyes lingered at the structures they passed. He chose not to let his mind wander too much, it could mean nothing.

* ~*

Saif skulked forward, his ears rotating around, picking up any sound in the night. He had been sitting for a long time with his eyes closed to avoid using any light as he ventured back to where the cart was. He was almost certain that the linacs would try finding them somewhere else, and them heading to the temple was unlikely, they weren’t known for comprehensive thinking, part from killing.

He looked up, seeing the clear sky glimmer with stars, and the moon beaming like a torch. He lifted a hoof upwards, aiming it at the stars, judging that he was on the right path he continued. He finally found the tracks they had left, right where they had turned to the temple.

Feeling the chill, he wrapped his cloak tighter around him, both to conserve warmth, and to stop it from making any sounds. It did not take long from where the tracks began till where the cart was. More and more splintered wood began to stick in the sand, marking towards the impact point. He stopped and saw where Athaal had crashed, a deep mark in the sand. A little further he also saw the blue sand that had caused Athaal to enrage. He shuddered slightly from the thought, he had never seen something like that in any pony before. He respected the iris rings before, they let everypony around know when they crossed the line, but seeing their true nature, he feared them.

He finally spied the linac corpse, lying in a pool of its own, black blood. He carefully maneuvered through the splinters and cloth scattered around, it had not been able to move far away before it had been killed. He ignored the piles of supplies and headed straight for one of the sandy hills.

Finding what he searched for, he kneeled down and withdrew the wristblade from his mentor and tucked it in under his cloak. He concidered burying the corpse, but he did not have the tools needed for it, and he had no time to bury him with only his hoofs. He remained still, unmoving as he looked upon the corpse. He wasn’t sad, it was something else he felt as his eyes wandered over the gruesome details of Kazim. Perhaps it was guilt, the guilt that his actions caused the death of so many, and lastly his mentor. Uncertainty tugged within him, for there hadn’t been a death close to him ever since his parents died so many years ago. He had completely forgotten how it felt, the withering from within.

He sighed and turned towards the linac corpse again, starting to look through the bundles after the horn and the satchel. He quickly found the saddlebag and opened it, feeling a certain relief as he saw the content still whole; it would have been impossible to replace any of the ingredients. Certain the horn had not fallen in this area, he began to make his way to the other side, and he stopped.

Leaning closer to the linac, he saw the blood was clotting; and it formed an eerie shape of a crystal. It was not a single large crystal in there, but he was certain the small jagged forms was it. He dropped the saddlebag and approached the area on its neck where Athaal had gone berserk. Releasing the wristblade, he began to cut in the flesh, tearing off large chunks of it until the bone was visible. The large slab of flesh hit the sand with a thud and he moved away to let the moon light it up. He expected to see the white ebony color, but instead he saw a gray and blackened collarbone.

Before his mind managed to formulate any coherent thought about what this meant, he got interrupted by a snarl coming from behind him. He quickly jumped up and ran forward without looking back, from the thumps behind, he knew it had seen him, and taking to his wings would endanger him more. Then, it stopped, any sound of it chasing for him vanished. Saif didn’t stop until he reached behind one of the sand dunes and hid.

Taking a deep breath, he attempted to calm his heart which was threatening to jump out of his chest. His ears flicked, hearing crunching sounds together with growls, but still far away, they gave no indication that it made any attempt to locate him. Saif quickly leaned forward and took two steps before he remembered a very important piece, he still needed the horn and ingredients.

He began to crawl up the dune, careful not to make any sound, while listening to any change in the demeanor of the grunts near the wagon. Just over the top he saw a linac hunkering over the corpse of its own kin, gnawing and crushing the bones, and lapping heartily what it could of the black blood.

He tried to move in closer, constantly keeping an eye on the linac, baffled over how it rather went for the dead linac over Kazim’s body. He froze as it lifted its head and looked at him, it hissed and returned its attention to the dead body again; tearing off large chunks of flesh with serrated claws. Saif began to go through the pieces of the wagon as he got closer, piece by piece, making sure never to let the linac out of his sight; and all the muscles in his wings ready to make a dash.

Finally spotting the horn, he felt relieved, then seconds after; weary. The horn was poking out of a red clothing near the beast. Getting closer, the beast looked at him again, growling, but showing no signs of any further aggression. Saif quickly took the horn and leaped out to a safe distance.

Looking back, a thought struck him. The book had mentioned that the unicorn needed crystals to survive, but nothing about where those crystals needed to come from. If these linacs were a product of the experiments done a thousand years ago, it was possible that they looked for other creatures for the crystals they need. It also would explain why they stayed away from the temple, if it was their origin, they would have a primal fear for it.

Confident that there were no more of them around, he took to his wings and flew to the temple with haste. He needed to get Trixie to look further into the book, to see if they tried other creatures as well. If animals infected with the brew would roam around and gorge on each other, one could only imagine what mutations would come if it was left unattended for thousands of years.

The red mountains and sandy dunes flashed underneath him as he flew, and soon the temple rise taller as he got closer. He landed soundlessly in front of the pylons covering the entrance, and snuck in. once more amazed of how big it all was, not to mention just how well kept it was. In the corner of his eyes he saw Arien rise and head towards him.

“How did it go?” the old general quickly asked.

“It went fine, I have the horn and the ingredients. Where’s Athaal?” Saif wondered.

“He’s further back in the temple guarding Trixie.” Arien responded and pointed towards the door furthest away.

“And Moxie, she’s sleeping?” He asked.

“Yes, it seems the death has hit her hard, she refuses to speak to anyone but Athaal, and she quickly falls asleep again.”

“Hold onto these while I get Athaal and Trixie. We need to talk about something important.” Saif said and gave the horn and saddlebags to a bemused Arien.

He quickly crossed over the room towards the door, carefully taking each step so he made little to no sound. He went through the door and instantly meet a glinting blade at his throat. He recognized the large blade as Athaal’s and relaxed again once the blade hesitantly slid away from him.

Athaal scowled at him, “Damn it, I almost took your head off! Didn’t Arien tell you to thump the entrance before you entered?” he huffed, both knowing there was no lie in the statement.

“He didn’t have time, wake Trixie, we need to talk, now. And tell her to bring the book, and be quiet.” Saif ordered and quickly turned around, barely glinting the slightly annoyed frown upon Athaal’s face.

As he walked towards Arien again he saw the guards situated at the far end of the large entrance hall. He assumed Moxie was in the tent Arien was sitting nearby and decided it was far enough away from the soldiers that they could talk in hushed voices. He sat down and took hold of a canteen of water and drank richly from it.

Arien sat idly waiting for him to explain what was going on. He turned and saw Athaal coming out of the room, annoyance smeared over his features, while Trixie followed close, equally annoyed it seemed.

Athaal sat down, “I don’t know what you even see in her, Saif.” He said loudly, earning snarl from Trixie behind him.

Saif smiled slightly, knowing Trixie, she had not told Athaal about what Rishad had done to her. “She understand us perfectly now.” He simply said, and watched as the realization dawned upon Athaal, and his features went from annoyance to anger.

“Please, let us focus on what’s going on, your little squabble can rest till later, my Lord.” Arien interjected before any of them managed to say more. He bowed to Athaal and then turned to Saif, “What is it that got you so worked up?” He asked.

“Keep your voices down, we don’t need more attention, could you please give me the book, Trixie?” he said, stretching out a hoof.

Trixie gave it to him and he began to shift through the pages, carefully looking for anything that might confirm his suspicion. Near the first entry, he found the image of a scorpolid, together with other different animals. He gave the book to Trixie again, and pointed at the text. “Can you read this?”

“Of course I can, it’s is a simple matter.” She said, first giving Athaal a hovering glare then turning her focus downwards to the text.

“We started testing on animals, they either die or become dangerously violent, we quickly kill those. It seems the animals with a hard exoskeleton can sustain much more of the serum before they turn violent or die.

“After weeks of trials, we finally figured out what’s missing within the animals, intelligence, the serum seems to empower their need to act upon the base instinct. With a creature of intellect, a pony or a drake, we might see different results, rather a boost of intellect and power over a primal instinct increase.” She stopped reading and turned to Saif, “Why is this important? It’s only natural that they tried it out on animals before they turned to ponies.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Athaal asked with a skeptical stare.

Saif leaned forward, explaining carefully where he found the book, and what Trixie read for him about what had passed within the walls of this temple. He took a deep breath, and suggested the origin of Sombra was here. All of them looked at him with skepticism. The story of Sombra and how he got defeated was never taught in school, but it was passed down through generations. It had grown to become legend which no one knew was true or not until the black unicorn once again came back in the Crystal empire, giving new life to the stories being told. He was always an object of evil, something otherworldly, and his name always spoken with respect. Saif let what he had surmised sink in before he quickly recapped what he had discovered with the dead linac and how the blood coagulated, he also mentioned the crystallization of the bones on the unicorn. He asked Trixie to show Athaal the entry about the unicorn escape.

Then, as Athaal listened to Trixie, Saif turned silent. He knew what he would need to say must come with carefully selected words. He placed a hoof upon his brother’s shoulder and gained his attention. The moment he mentioned his thoughts about Moxie and the sickness he saw Athaal’s features darken, his iris rings once more growing jet black.

“This is insane!” Athaal retorted.

“Think about it, Athaal, nopony but the Temple of Eran knows of the cure, and they are very secretive with it. I think that they are afraid this secret will come out.” Saif explained.

Athaal slammed his hoof hard into the ground, causing Trixie to jump behind him. “It can’t be right, we have to do something!” He hissed.

“I don’t think you can do anything, Athaal.” Arien simply stated.

“Why? Once this information comes out the temples will surely be torn apart.” Athaal retorted.

“I don’t think so… I think the crown already know of this, but lets it slide, the ponies are drawn to the temple, and the warfare against the linacs are good business for the nobles.” Arien suggested calmly.

“Then we’ll take this information to the Equestrian crown.” Athaal said.

Saif rose, “Think before you act, if you do that you will never be able to go back to Saddle-Arabia.” He tried.

“Nor do I want to, I refuse to let my foal grow up in a country where the crown benefits from the death of its subjects.” He stated with steel determination in his eyes.

“You’re talking of treachery!” Arien interjected.

“No, if the goddesses of Equestria wills it, I will help them cleanse the corruption that has manifested itself in this land, if they wish to let it be, so will I, but I will not remain here with my family.” Athaal barked, he turned to Saif. “But I cannot do it without the support of my watanï and brother.” He said and bowed deeply.

Saif halted, he had not even considered what Athaal was suggesting, it was a drastic step. For him, it was perhaps the best, he had no ties in Saddle-Arabia except his brother. The cost could be dire. He looked over at Trixie and smiled faintly, she met his gaze and scrunched her eyebrows, she knew exactly what he was thinking; and by the looks of it, she didn’t like it much. He was certain that if he moved to Equestria, they would be able to spend more time together, and perhaps become something… more.

“I’ll be at your side, Athaal.” Saif simply answered and turned to Arien.

The old general rose, “I need to think about it, I think the consequences might become much more than what you anticipate.” He said and left for his tent.

“First things first, we need to get to the graveyard, then we’ll head straight for Equestria.” Athaal said and rose, “I’ll leave you to watch over Trixie now, Saif.”

“As you wish,” Saif said and smiled towards her, and to his surprise, she returned it.

Author's Note:

Hope you guys enjoy this update!
And as always, feel free to leave comments, I love reading them all.

Cheers!

Comments

[Lord Legion]

I haven't read these updates yet, but I couldn't help but notice that one of the updates says 1st July 2015. It never occurred to me that you may be a day ahead. Is that true or just some glitch?

[RoboRed]

Let's hear it for FiMfic for not actually showing the story as updated yet still notifying of an update.

This whole mess is the origin of Sombra? That's some really spooky business.

[Tofazz]

6153919 I'm in GMT+1.
So if you live in America I'm about 7-9 hours ahead of you.
On my screen it says I updated it at 30th of June though.

[Bad_Seed_72]

Wow, talk about a revelation! What a great update. I'm eager to see what comes of this. Nice work.

[Lord Legion]

6155498 Ah gotcha. Thanks for clearing that up.

[Lord Legion]

Alrighty just got caught up and oooh boy. That discovery is quite a doozy. It probably is best if they head to Equestria to sort this out.

[Batbrony]

img3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20140423034814/roblox-apocalypse-rising/images/thumb/2/2a/Anchorman-well-that-escalated-quickly.jpg/500px-Anchorman-well-that-escalated-quickly.jpg

Given how rapidly Athaal made this decision, I wouldn't be surprised if when he does go to Equestria and tells the sisters of it, they might already know. They might be able to put into perspective for him how much more suffering would result from this news becoming public. Still, even if that's what happens, this seems like an oddly rash decision for Athaal to make so quickly, though perhaps he's simply super worn down and stressed to a breaking point already after everything that's happened. Will get to the next chapter as soon as I can!

[Ice Star]

What an interesting Sombra origin, and in a story that isn't even about him. I am pleasantly surprised.