Fimbulvetr

by Alkarasu

17: Dís

"Greetings, keshe. I think, it's time for us to talk."

The tone of voice was calm, the words were polite, the muzzle of the old mare held a look of a kind old grandmother, yet Vsevolod knew that his life was officially over. The warning Kurgash gave him was still clear in his mind, but even without it, he understood that Timer Urman wasn't a nice pony, and had a good reason to consider him an enemy. Of course, all he needed was one more day to remove the chains, so there was a chance he could stall her long enough...

"Now, is that a look of 'I'll try to stall the old hag as long as I can' I see in your eyes?" chuckled the old hag, coming closer to the cart and playfully squinting at Vsevolod. "Don't try that with me, it would only embarrass us both. Tonight, I'll ask, you'll answer, and your fate would depend on how I like what I hear. Now, I know that you'll be lying, anyone would in your position. I would, and it's well known I never lie. I don't have much time for that game, so let's simplify it a little, shall we?"

With that, the old pony took something resembling a small chalkboard and a piece of chalk from her saddlebag. She placed the board on the ground and started drawing a couple of strange symbols on it. Vsevolod never saw anything like them before, and the placement wasn't giving him any clues. Finishing with the drawing, Timer pulled out a flask of brown liquid and put a drop of it on the side of the board. Next, she unsheathed a small needle-like knife and looked at Vsevolod.

"To make you more willing to be truthful, I'll use this little spell I've learned in one of your fancy western cities. Hard to find something that would work for a poor, old earth mare like me, you see. Now, when I would ask a question and you would answer something you think is not true, your silent friend over there," she pointed at Helga, "would receive a nasty shock. You know, since lying is bad for friendship. It would also make sure my nosy daughter won't hear what is not for her ear." At that, Timer glanced over her shoulder and Vsevolod noticed someone hastily scurrying away from behind the next cart. She sighed and turned back. "Kids these days. Back when I was her age, I could listen in on a room full of Diamond Dogs with none noticing me. So..."

She took the knife again and carefully poked her own leg just above the hoof, letting a drop of blood to fall onto the brown smear from the flask. After that, she used the same knife to draw one last symbol on the board with the resulting mixture. The chalk lines shimmered in the dark and filled with an eerie greenish glow.

"So, that's how you do the Shroud of Silence, keshe," nodded Timer, placing the board under the cart with the griffons. "Of course, you need at least some fresh blood of an earth pony for that, but it's very good for the reputation if no one can hear you lie. I wish I could do the shock part too, but that needs a proper unicorn."

"What?" that was the most intelligent response Vsevolod managed to give.

"Ah, refreshing griffon stupidity, how I've missed you," frowned the pony, glancing around. "We don't have any time to waste, so try to contain it. You think that I'll try to find out who you are or who sent you. That would've been true in any other time. This time I don't care. You should praise whatever spirits you worship for your luck. Had Yangyr lived, we would've been talking about that today. Like it is, I need you more than what you might know. You see, I love my daughter, and those old mules doomed her to follow that pompous moron she fancied. I can't turn on tradition, I can't spit on honor, I can't save my little Irte. So you will. Tomorrow night she would come to you. Tomorrow night you will take her and fly away, as far as your wings would carry you, as far from the Field as you may go. Do it, and you get your freedom and your life. Decline, and the day after her funeral we will talk again. Harm her, and we will talk again. Drop a single word about this conversation to anyone in the world, especially Irte, and we will talk again. You can live a long and happy life, as long as we won't talk again. Now, keshe, choose but choose wisely. And for the love of the Earthmother, be more careful with that file, I could hear it from the other side of the camp!" With that, the old ghoul stood up, grabbed the spell board and suddenly bumped Helga on the beak. The griffon immediately screamed in rage and attempted to lunge at the mare, but she was safely outside of the range the chain allowed Hel to reach.

"I see you are not yet ready to tell me the truth, keshe," said Timer loudly, chuckling. "I think, we'll have to talk again later."

Vsevolod looked as she trotted away. It was hard to admit, but he felt a lot of respect to the old mare and thought that in different circumstances wouldn't mind to know her a little better. Of course, her way of expressing her love to her daughter through the threats of torture and death to the outsiders wasn't the way he liked. Still, all things considered, that was the sweetest thing he saw someone in this world do for another.

And he had two chains to break.

Most of the night and a good part of the next day he carefully attacked the chain with the file, trying to produce as little noise as possible. Helga stood guard and covered his work, pretending to sunbathe her wings. The nomads around them were too busy to notice anything, though. Their movements became much more desperate, the carts were now pulled by the double and triple teams, sometimes even with foals helping. It increased the caravan speed a bit, and when the sun was already touching the horizon, they had reached the place. It was a group of several high hills, covered with thick bushes. The caravan climbed the nearest one, but then part of the carts separated and occupied the rest of the hills. By that time Vsevolod was already done with the chains and his only concern was not to let Helga show every nomad in the camp that they are free. It wasn't very hard now when he could at least tell her to wait in a way she understood, so he saw the arrival of tashu.

For a thing that kept every horse in sight in a state of panic for the last few days, it looked nothing spectacular. Just the snow at the plain below the hills getting dark, first at several spots, and then everywhere the eye could see. It looked like someone just threw a switch from "snow" to "water", and the great plains obediently turned into great ponds. By the time the sun had finally set, everywhere around the hills was water, and the light of the full moon glittered on the small waves. The nomads liked to cut it close. It worked for Vsevolod himself, though - since the effort it took every pony in the camp to get to the hills in time made sure that none of them were paying any attention to the pair of exotic slaves. So much that none even bothered to feed them.

Everything was ready. The food was in the bag, the antler was secured as a counterweight, and the only thing that was missing was Kurgash Irte. Vsevolod had no desire to leave the poor pegasus to her doom, but it helped him none in feeling the dread, imagining that Timer might back off their deal at any moment. When Kurgash finally appeared, he was so scared by his own thoughts that he had nearly jumped out of the cart and ran away screaming.

"Honored Ancestor, I'm... ready," whispered the pegasus, jumping inside the cart. She had her own saddlebags with her, and the look on her face was sad but determined. "Mother sent me to check if anypony remembered to feed you. I'm bad at pulling, so in the camp, I'm the only one who can still walk, except the elders. I left her a note, she'll understand... I think. But she'll get suspicious very fast, so we have to go now!"

"Finally!" breathed out Vsevolod, pulling his own bag on and turning to Helga. "Fly-take-breakfast-follow!"

"Fly-fly-fly!" responded the feral griffon, carefully grabbing Kurgash and looking at Vsevolod expectantly.

He sighed, spread his wings and felt the air. If the first time the feeling Helga had shown him was a stream, now he felt a whole huge river. The air around him was alive. He felt Helga, ready to take off and coiling the currents around her wings, he felt Kurgash, nervously twitching hers and unconsciously asking the sky to accept her, he felt the storm, rolling in from the west and blocking the route to the south. But, most importantly, he felt that the air is ready to listen to him. So he asked without words and fell into the moonlit sky.

He fell out of the moonlit sky on top of the big hill far from the camp of the nomads and kissed the ground, loudly promising not to leave it ever again. Helga drifted down nearby, dropping Kurgash in the snow and yawning contently. She looked like she never even flew, let alone carrying a pegasus almost as big as herself. Kurgash spread her wings and looked at them as if she never seen them before.

"That was... Honore... that was AMAZING!" she tackled Vsevolod and hugged him, producing a scream of pain from the griffon. "What's wrong?"

"My everything hurts! I'm not ready for a flight that long! I would never be ready for a flight that long! It's amazing, yes, but my wings are going to fall off any moment!" answered Vsevolod, weakly trying to escape the hug of doom.

Helga looked at him and then fell down laughing. She rolled on the ground, pounding it with a fist and trying to say something, but it was drowned by the laughter. At last, she calmed down and managed to say more or less coherently: "Small-young-feather-flight-pain! Forget! Heel-ha for-r-rget! Fly-high-rejection-young-small! Sor-r-ry!"

"Very funny," said Vsevolod dryly, getting a file from the bag and starting working on the cuffs. "We could've stopped on that first hill, you know, it was far enough for them to never get to us. But you for-r-rget! Bad griffon!"

"Bad grif... griff... fon!" happily agreed the evil catbird. "Hams-s-ters! Cr-r-rops!"

The morning of the first day of their freedom met them cuddled together under a bush, trying to sleep off the stress of the previous days. Vsevolod looked at the rising sun and thought about his endless quest to find a place to call home. He knew what he did wrong now, what he brought from the warm world of the humans to this frozen unforgiving land of the Great Winter, what had no place here. The answer was with him from the moment he dug out that first lair under a tree, the very first night in the new world. If he wanted there to be home for him, he had to make it himself.

And he was ready to try.

Comments

[Seeking Dusk]

I have to admit, the language of Helga is really making her into a much funner character XD

And I like grandmare too.

[Alkarasu]

7717834
It was fun to think about "what the actual bird language would be like".

And as fun it was to write her, I really hope Timer won't appear anymore. She'll kill Vsevolod if she does, and the story won't be the same without him.

[Celefin]

Hah! I never saw that twist with Timer coming. Excellent misdirection I must say, having both Vsevolod and Timer planning to rescue Kurgash. Entirely consistent as well... nicely done!
And I forgot to mention it under the last chapter, but the fledgeling (heh) character dynamics between Kurgash and Helga are great. Helga hugging a crying Kurgash? She's probably never before developed an emotional attachment to breakfasts.

So, yes. Time for the rookies to learn to fly properly!
But first: hamsters.

[Alkarasu]

7718236

Helga was a loner prior to meeting Vsevolod, so it's safe to assume that she probably never before developed an emotional attachment to anyone (except, probably, her parents, but who knows how ferals go about that?). And we don't really know if she ate any ponies before. Not the easiest prey, after all.

But yes. Hamsters are the most important part of their journey.

[Doppler Effect]

Did a chapter just end with nothing terrible happening or just about to happen?

I hope they get a chance to recover and teach Kurgash to fly before the next terrible event...

[Alkarasu]

7718687 It's an end of the big part with the Nomads, so yeah, Cliff is not hanging in this one.

They have about a month when nothing not flying can get to them. So they might get some peace unless they wander in the next terrible event themselves.