Harmony Undone: Consequence of Choice

by Zodiacspear

Chapter Sixteen

For all of his new found power, the gifts of his beloved Mistress, never before had Harbinger felt so terrified and helpless. Even as he walked past the kneeling Bringers—his ever-present scowl on his face—he wanted nothing more than to let one of them report to the Mistress. Even if he had given it serious thought, he knew that his Mistress would find him and would punish him for his weakness. Weakness was unacceptable. Weakness was for those unfit to survive. Weakness, was for those who displeased the Mistress.

The clopping of his hooves on the stone floor sounded almost like the clicking of claws of predators heralding his end. As he approached the altar, his sickly eyes fell upon the artifact. The Advent of Shadow hovered just above the surface of the stone altar—the magic keeping it from settling. Knowing only the Winter Solstice would allow the magic to fade and grant his Mistress her deserved freedom, Harbinger knew it was only a matter of time and patience. Still, he couldn’t help but admire the stone. The intricate etchings were enough to make him pause in his stride. One could spend hours admiring the work, were it not for the waves of unnatural chill that even he felt deeply in his bones. Unlike the aura of power his Mistress gave off at all times, the power the stone was not malicious. Nor was it the disgustingly warm feeling the Princesses emitted like a suffocating blanket. Rather, it was a power that simply was—favoring neither warmth nor ill.

He blew a sigh through his nose as he knelt in front of the altar, his snout pressed to the cold stone floor.

Stalwart has failed.

He felt a chill creep up his spine at her tone; he grimaced as he spoke, “He has, my Mistress. He has paid for his failure. Though our beetles killed many, the deer were more skilled than we thought. They… now have the cure.”

I sent more than enough of my servants, Harbinger, how have you allowed this failure to happen?

The hair along his spine stood on end. “I could not let the key remain unguarded, my Mistress, the risk was too great. Our Bringers are—”

You should have sent them.

“But they would—”

Die? Yes, they would have. And that would have torn the moral of those who help the White Tail. These unexpected allies the Princesses have sent have been an increasing thorn in my side, and, they have the potential to stop my release.

He dared to look up at the massive stone slab. “They could not begin—”

It is a chance I will not take!

His mind ringing from her white-hot rage, he wisely lowered his gaze.

There will be no more chances, Harbinger. With the cure to my disease that holds the others to my will within their grasp, I will not allow the deer to savor their victory. I want you to send the Bringers out to destroy their beloved home, keep the White Tail from preparing. They have the remainder of the autumn to do so, and we cannot allow them to ready.

“All of them?”

Keep the mercenaries as your own personal guard. The others are expendable.

“As you command, my Mistress.” He dared a look back up at the mural. “What of the Princesses? If they think to interfere, will we have the strength to keep them at bay?”

Do not worry about Celestial or Selena. The fool Drasil will not allow them anywhere near her precious children. Even if they did, they will not have guts to harm their own children. And I will enjoy watching their faces twist in agony when I am free again.

Knowing that Princess Celestia and Luna would not be a factor allowed him to breath easier, even if her tone caused him to shiver where he stood. “All shall be as you desire, my Mistress.”

Also…

Slowly, he looked up at the stone eye set within the center of the doorway, his legs shaking despite his best attempts to stop them.

You will also be busy in the coming months.

He winced. “I am to fight the savages?”

Idiot! I have more use for you than that. No, instead, I have another task for you.

A wave of relief ran up his spine. “I will obey, Mistress.”

I know you will. Go back to where my key once lay hidden, you are to gather my newest minion and bring him here to me.

His brow furrowed, who could possibly still be at that ancient site? “Who do you refer to, my Mistress?”

You dealt with him.

As his eyes widened, a gleeful sneer spread across his face. “I will need the Bringers to carry him back.”

Then use them for this task, then do with them as I have said. I will not tolerate another failure.

Again, he pressed his nose to the stone floor. “It will be done, my Mistress.”

-0-

The warmth of the fire spread about his tent, bringing its welcomed warmth to his bones even as the fire crackled and spit. Taking in long, deep breaths, the Elder focused upon the images the Great Mother shared with him. Disturbing images of the past, of the Gorgon’s past destructive plagues, as well as knowledge that could help him and his deer defeat the Gorgon sorted through his mind. As more became clear, he realized all of it hinged on rather or not his people—and the ponies—were capable of doing what was necessary.

‘So much left to chance. So much depending on if they are strong enough for their tasks.’

A sigh interrupted his measured breathing, but he soon returned to the easy rhythm. There was so much weight placed on his back, as well as the backs of his people who looked to him for guidance. A weight that carried more responsibility than those of just his people. It was enough for him to want to slump from the sheer scope of it all. Still, no matter what he had to face, he swore to always remain steadfast for his people.

His ears flicked as the sound of his tent flap lifting and the sound of familiar hoof steps. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know who it was, the heavenly aroma of the full moon berries reached his nose well before her scent did.

“Good daylight, Faithful Watcher,” he said. “Your task met with success then?”

He heard the baskets being set down, as well as the tired sigh and sniffing of a wet nose. “Yes, grandfather, but it came… at a cost.”

His eyes finally opened to see her take her customary seat, he also saw the burden she carried had slumped her shoulders—though they remained clear of anything physical. “How many of our people have returned to the Mother’s embrace?”

Closing her eyes, she sniffed as he realized that she was trying to hold back her emotions. “Eight, grandfather. I wasn’t able to save them.” Taking in a shuddering breath, she continued, “We-We were able to recover many baskets of the berries, thanks to Trixie, so there will be plenty for the cure.”

He gave a slow nod. “And the ponies?”

She turned her gaze to him, and he could clearly see the pain in those brown eyes of hers. “They live. Though the Bringer was slain.”

A soft frown tugged at his lips. “Who was it that killed him?”

“It was me, grandfather, who dealt the killing blow. But it was only because Wanderer was able to keep him distracted for me to do so.” She lowered her eyes again. “The Bringer died atop of Wanderer, and he has… not taken it well.”

“...I see.” He looked straight ahead for a moment. It was an outcome he had dreaded, but it seemed his intuition was correct again. “Worry not for the earth-tamer, Faithful, he will find solace in his friends, and acceptance in time.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze again falling to her hooves even as she sniffled again.

Turning his gaze to her, he knew that by her slouched stance, and the shaking of her shoulders, that there was more. “Speak, granddaughter, your mind is troubled.”

Her ears pinned back, and she took in another shuddering breath, her head hanging even lower.

His brow furrowed for a moment before his eyes widened. “Where is Risen Hart?”

Like a dam bursting, the pent up emotions of the past few days finally flowed forth. A choking sob escaped her, and the eyes that ran red from days of crying, started anew. “He-He fell, grandfather! He died while I held him! There wasn’t anything I could have done! The Bringer… he killed him. I-I could not save him!” She sobbed, her shoulders shaking with each one. “He-He died.. I… I could not…”

As the grief became too much, the Elder realized that that she had likely only now let herself give into her emotions fully. Likely holding them in until she was safely out of sight and with him, to let go.

Standing, he walked over to sit beside her and laid a foreleg over her withers. Sobbing, she pressed her face into his broad chest and he could feel her tears soaking his fur. Feeling and hearing her sobs brought about a memory so like the one now. Only the tragedy then, was personal to them both. The day he lost his only son. Even now, he was reminded of that little fawn who wept in his chest. Only now, she was not the little fawn he remembered, but a full grown doe who had seen too much loss in her young life.

A part of him regretted the decision to put the burden of leadership on her back so soon, but he knew that this grief would only strengthen her for the future.

For now though, she needed to cry.

“While it is good you mourn Risen’s loss and those that fell, Faithful, you must always remember that their sacrifice will give new life to many more. Through them, more will be saved, and we are now another step closer to stopping the Gorgon from taking any more in her desire to see us all returned to the Great Mother.” He laid his head gently atop hers. “Always remember the lessons of our Elders, and know that all will be well in the future we strive for.”

She didn’t speak for a time, her sniffles fading. Finally, she looked up at him, and he almost felt the tears gather at his own eyes as he looked at her. “I...I feel guilt, grandfather. All of my careful planning, all of the lessons I learned from you, I could not keep them alive. Risen—” she sniffed. “Risen Hart, and the others, they trusted me. And they died because of me. How...How do I tell their families? What can I do…” She lowered her gaze once more. “to make the hurt go away?”

“Faithful, you must understand that no matter how hard you try to prevent it, tragedy will strike those that lead. It is not an easy burden we carry, but it is one we must. Our kin look to us for guidance, and we must always remain strong for them. It is something we do for our people’s sake and not our own.”

A few more tears gathered at her eyes, and her tone dropped to a near whisper. “Risen and I grew up together, grandfather, and he went because he wanted to help. Not because I made him, but because he wanted to. He-He did not have to die.”

He hugged her tighter. “I know, granddaughter. I watched you both since you were born, and I know how much he meant to you.” Nuzzling her, he tried to let a small smile grow across his face. “I am old, but I am not blind.”

Only the faintest of smiles graced her face before she sniffed again. “But… what do I tell his family? Or all of the families whose sons and daughters died for the cure? What can I say that will… make it hurt less?”

“Tell them the truth. They have the right to know that became of their loved ones.” He looked at her calmly as she stood straighter. “They will grieve, they will be angry, they will blame you, but always remember that the good of all must come before the wants of one. It is how we have lived for so long, Faithful. They will understand in time. There is nothing you can do that will ease their anguish, you must be strong for them.”

“I just…” she wiped at her eyes. “It is so hard.”

He gave her an understanding look. “It will be, Faithful, but I know you are able to meet this challenge.” He rested his leg back to the ground, removing it from around her back. “Always remember that it was not you that wielded the weapon that ended Risen’s life. You did not kill him.” A soft frown crosses his features. “Think of how the earth-tamer feels at this moment. He is no doubt feeling the same guilt you are now. He did not kill the Bringer, but he blames himself anyway for his death. This is a shared experience you both now carry.”

Her gaze lowered, a thoughtful frown tugging at her lips. “I… did not think of that.” She looked back up at him, letting out a shuddering breath. “I never wanted this to happen.”

“Nor should you, Faithful, but oft times, our choices are limited.” He shifted his weight, inwardly wincing as a hip popped. “Perhaps after the cure is brewed, and the dead returned to the Mother, you can find ways for you both to get through your trials. A leader looks after all of her followers, living and dead.”

She gave a soft nod and stood straighter. “Maybe… I can talk to all of them. Trixie might know something that can help.”

Again, he frowned. “Perhaps, but now we have another task.” His antlers took on its light aura and the baskets hovered to him. “Gather your healers and meet me at the healing tent. We must begin brewing immediately.”

Faith quickly got to her hooves, and he saw that her shoulders now rose with a new determination. “Yes, grandfather!”

As she bound from the tent, he watched her go with a warm smile. ‘She will prove to be an extraordinary leader one day. One I believe greater than any of those before.’

His gaze fell on the berries once more and lifted them up. For now though, there were those who needed his aid.

-0-

Tormod sat in the medical tent, keeping a silent watch over the sleeping Scarlet Scroll. Even as he watched her squirm and nicker in her sleep, he couldn’t help but pity her. While they had hardly been friendly growing up, he never hated her. Not like Tourmaline who had repeatedly snarled how much she had detested the lilac pegasus. He had taken Scarlet’s attitude like he had the others, it was just who they were and accepted it. Learning long ago that holding grudges never helped anything, he never really let it get to him.

A sigh blew through his nose as his gaze drifted to the opening in the tent’s ceiling.

‘It’s been a few days now, where are they? Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, please let them be safe.’

His thoughts turned to the recent events and all the emotional turmoil they’ve gone through. His sister had been an emotional train wreck for weeks now and he feared the pressure would soon break her—it was the same for Wanderer. If the two didn’t resolve their issues soon, it might become too much for them. Deciding that it would be better to let them sort it out on their own might not have been his best idea—he knew something was going to happen eventually. Something they would all regret.

Just as his thoughts turned to Trixie, the tent flap glowed pink before it admitted the unicorn in question. A wide smile grew across his face as he saw her.

His eyes drifted over the basket of faintly glowing berries before speaking. “Thank Celestia you’re okay.” He turned as Trixie was soon followed by a number of grim-looking deer warriors. More than a few shot Scarlet scathing glares as they set the baskets within the tent.

Tormod watched them as Trixie sat next to him with a tired sigh. “What happened?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.

His frown deeped as her eyes had a faraway look to them. “The beetles attacked us. Some of the deer were killed.”

His wince quickly gave way to a knot of fear in his gut. “Tourmaline? Wanderer?”

She rested a hoof on his shoulder. “They are fine, but…” She averted her gaze.

The sickening feeling in his gut grew. “What is it?”

Another sigh escaped her as she rested her hoof on the ground. “Trixie does not think Wanderer is doing well.” Her gaze drifted to Scarlet’s cot. “He is blaming himself for the death of the pony that lead the beetles.”

“By the Sisters…” ‘Sweet Celestia, this was not what he needed now.’ He turned his focus back to her. “Where are they?”

“They should be behind Trixie,” she said as the deer filed out.

Tormod’s gaze darted to the entrance as Tourmaline finally entered. Looking at her face, he knew for certain it was all true. Instead of the confident glimmer he was used to seeing in her eyes, he saw something that was anything but.

He got to his hooves and crushed her in the tightest hug he could muster.

Rather than shy away, she melted into his hug, holding him so tight as to almost crush the air out of him. “Tormod…”

“Hush,” he said, holding her even as he felt her tears start to moisten his coat. “I only want you to tell me what happened.”

She gave a soft nod and sniffed. “I-I was so scared…”

He sat up straighter. “Tell me.”

After another sigh, she looked at him. “The pony leading the beetles, he was going to kill Wanderer. I tackled him off, but he was a lot stronger than me. He pinned me down and started choking me.” Her forehoof went to her neck for a moment, and he could see the bruise through her fur. “I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t get him off of me. I-I thought I was going to die and… I was scared.”

He held her tighter, giving her a comforting nuzzle.

She leaned into the nuzzle. “That was when Wanderer jumped in. He started punching him over and over, screaming at him…” She paused, her gaze going distant. “The expression on his face… I’ve never seen him so angry, so scared before. That was when the pony tackled him to the ground. While he wrestled with Wanderer, Faith stabbed him from behind.”

Tormod shook his head as she trailed off—if only he had been there! None of it might not have happened at all!

“But that’s not all…”

Pulled from his thoughts, he looked at her. “What else?”

Her gaze half lidded. “When Wanderer calmed down, and saw what had happened, he… he freaked out. His scream, he—”

They both turned at the sound of the tent opening again, and Tormod saw Faithful Watcher precede the arrival of the Elder. The former carrying a mortar and pestle in her magic, while the latter carried many ceramic jars that smelled of sap. It was the third individual that Tormod focused on. Wanderer followed behind them, carrying many baskets of berries on his back. Tormod frowned at the distant expression he saw in his friend’s face as he set down the baskets.

‘By the Sisters…’ All the joy, the zest for life, even the underlying gleam of humor was absent from his friend’s gaze.

“He’s been like that ever since it happened,” Tourmaline whispered, as she watched the earth pony.

“Set the berries with the others, earth-tamer,” the Elder said, nodding towards the baskets left behind by the deer warriors.

Without a word, Wanderer slid the baskets off his back. Even as one spilled, he remained quiet as he collected them back into the basket.

“It is time then,” the Elder said, his tone causing all gazes to move to him. “I will instruct Faithful and the other healers of the proper mix of berries and sap that will produce the cure.” He turned to granddaughter. “Faithful, have the healers begin grinding the berries—leaves and all—into a paste. The sap will follow once that is done.”

She dipped her head. “Yes, Elder,” she said before addressing her fellow healers, all of which quickly got to their tasks.

Tormod sat next to Wanderer, even as Tourmaline sat on his opposite side. As the Elder began filling small ceramic bowls of the sticky sap, Tormor spoke in a hushed tone.

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.” Wanderer’s voice sounded like a pre-recording.

Tormod glanced at Tourmaline as he saw her frown. “Wanderer, you should talk about it. It’s not healthy to hold it all in.”

Wanderer shifted his gaze away. “Leave me alone.”

“Wander—” Tourmaline started, reaching a hoof towards him.

“Drop it,” he all but hissed, tugging his hat further down his face.

Tourmaline watched him with a stricken look and Tormod was ever so glad she didn’t lash out at him. He looked at Trixie to find her shaking her head slowly. Tormod knew that his friend was on a precarious edge here. A single shove could send him over the edge and he might not ever recover.

He gave a slight shake of his head at Tourmaline who once again tried to reach out for Wanderer. She glanced at him and sighed, lowering her hoof back to the ground.

He turned back as Faithful spoke. “Is this enough, Elder?”

The aged deer regarded the mushy paste with a critical eye before nodding. “It is. Set it beside the sickened sky-rider and I will begin.”

As Faith set her bowl beside the whimpering Scarlet, the Elder stood at the foot of her cot, looking down at her with a firm, yet sympathetic, gaze. His antlers glowed and a bowl of pasted berries and a bowl of oak sap floated towards him. Reverently tilting the bowl of sap, it oozed down to where it dripped onto the berries. When the two combined, the paste began to pulsate a soft blue glow. Tormod’s nose flared as an aroma from the mix sent a pleasing shudder down his spine.

The Elder stirred the mix until a smile grew across his face. “It is done.”

Tormod found himself and the other ponies crowding around to see the final result. The glowing blue liquid seemed as thick as honey, and continued to give off the aroma that Tormod felt seemed to ease all of the worry from his mind.

“You’re sure it will work?” he asked.

The Elder nodded. “It shall. The Great Mother has shown me the way and this will cure your kin of the Gorgon’s influence.”

“Too late for some…” Wanderer muttered, earning him looks from the others.

“Indeed, earth-tamer, but with this, we can save those who remain.” He turned back to Scarlet Scroll. “Can you and the sky-rider hold her down and pry her mouth open? The more she ingests, the swifter the recovery.”

Wanderer motioned for Tourmaline to help—who nodded softly. The moment they reached for her, however, Scarlet began neighing in terror, thrashing around as much as her restraints allowed.

“Tormod, Trixie, can you hold her while we get her mouth?” Tourmaline asked as she struggled to hold Scarlet’s head.

Tormod limped over and rested his belly over her left left foreleg even as Trixie did the same for the other.

“Good,” the Elder said as he lifted the bowl. “Now, hold her very still.”

Once they had her restrained, he slowly poured the mix down her throat. Scarlet tried to turn and neigh, but the necessity of air forced her to swallow. The ponies held her until the whole mix was poured. With that done, the Elder warned them back with a curt wave of his hoof.

The moment they released her, Scarlet gave a final neigh before her back arched as far as she could go. Her body gave off a soft blue glow before she settled, barely even moving.

“Is she—” Wanderer began.

“Peace, earth-tamer, watch,” the Elder said as he watched Scarlet, his brow furrowing.

All those watching held their collective breaths before Scarlet gave a soft moan and lifted her head. She blinked and Tormod saw that the inner lights of her eyes had returned. “My head…” she said before her eyes widened, focusing on the one closest to her. “Wanderer? Tormod? Tourmaline? Where am I? What am I doing here?”

“It worked,” Wanderer breathed, his shoulders sagging.

Scarlet turned her slowly-focusing gaze to him. “What happened? Why am I tied down?”

“All will be made clear soon, sky-rider,” the Elder said. “How do you feel?”

“My head hurts, and I—” Gasping, her eyes widened as she realized who had spoken. “Sweet Celestia!” She tried to scramble away but the restraints held her. “What’s going on!”

Tormod raised a hoof to calm her. “Easy, Scarlet Scroll, you’re with friends.”

The lilac pegasus looked between them, the Elder, and the other deer, before her eyes rolled in the back of her head and she thumped to the cot.

“Well, should have seen that coming,” Tourmaline muttered, running a hoof through her mane.

Tormod’s ears flicked as Wanderer turned away without a word. He watched as his friend left the tent with his head lowered and ears pinned back.

“Tourmaline,” he said as he stood up, “Stay with Scarlet for a moment.”

She gave a soft nod as her gaze followed after the retreating earth pony as well.

Nodding, he headed for the tent exit. “Wanderer,” he called as he stepped out. Seeing his friend head in the direction of their tents, he hustled as fast as his leg would allow. “Hold up.”

Privately glad Wanderer had stopped, Tormod limped after him, wincing with each step he took. When he saw his friend’s eyes, Tormod saw nothing but lifelessness in those hazel orbs. “Wanderer, we need to talk.”

Wanderer shook his head. “I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Gritting his teeth, Tormod glared at him. “You need to talk, Wanderer. If you keep this pent up inside, you’re going to end up regretting it. This isn’t something you just ignore, you have to face it.”

Wanderer averted his gaze, a flash of regret crossing his face. “I’m regretting a lot of things, what’s one more?”

Tormod growled. “You stubborn mule of an earth pony. Will you stop being so danged blockheaded and listen for once? We’re your friends, we’ve practically been family ever since we were foals, will you please let us help you?” He rested a hoof on Wanderer’s shoulder. “What happened was unfortunate, but you have understand there was little you could do? You saved my sister’s life. You saved Tourmaline from him. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Wanderer snapped a glare his way. “Of course it does!”

Tormod never flinched at his friend’s ire. “Then why won’t you let us help you?”

“I…” he averted his gaze again. “I just want to handle this on my own.”

A huff escaped past Tormod’s lips. “Wanderer, ever since we’ve met, you’ve never done much of anything on your own. Why start now? We’ve helped you through other things before, just like you helped us with so much, why is now any different?”

Lowering his head, Wanderer whisered, “Please, Tormod, let me try. I… need to do this.”

Tormod looked at his friend for a long moment before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Fine, but the moment you start doing something stupid, I will beat the sense into you.”

Wanderer gave a faint nod and turned away. Tormod watched him go, inwardly grumbling at his friend’s stubbornness. Why was he being so difficult? Wanderer was smarter than this, what possessed him to try to endure something like this all on his own?

His tail swished and Tormod looked over his shoulder at the sound of approaching hooves. Trixie walked up to him, her eyes watching after Wanderer.

“He won’t talk?”

Tormod shook his head. “No, he’s being a stubborn mule at the moment.” He sighed and slid to his haunches. “I just want to slap him—and Tourmaline—for letting this all go on for so long. First their little lover’s quarrel, and now this.” He huffed. “It’s getting to be too much.”

She hummed, nodding with him, before levitating a book over. “Trixie thinks you should read this, Tormod.”

He took the book with his own magic and scanned the cover. While there wasn’t a title, his eyes widened a bit. “This is Wanderer’s travel log.” Looking at her, he asked. “How did you get it?”

Shaking her head, she nodded to the book. “You should read it, Tormod. Read his last entry.”

Curious despite himself, he cracked open the book—using the magic of his horn to read by. His eyes shifted over the page before they widened. “Sweet Celestia… Did you show Tourmaline this?” he asked, looking back at her.

Again, she shook her head—her silvery locks swaying. “Trixie did not. She feels it would be best for her to learn from her brother rather than Trixie.”

He considered that before sighing, slipping the book away. He would finish reading it later, after he made sure Scarlet awoke to a familiar face, but he knew that Tourmaline needed to see what Wanderer had wrote.

Author's Note:

Ha! Managed to get the next chapter out before heading on my vacation!