Age of Kings

by A bag of plums

39 - A Pain In The Asp

Emerald Edge stayed in the shadows of the trees, silently watching as a group of mercenaries brought over a few wooden crates. The druids commanding them stood to another side, by a campfire they had lit up just a while ago. One of them was busy sharpening his dagger, while another seemed to be looking inside a small cage of sorts.

With her hood low, Emerald darted out from behind the tree to another one, her footfalls almost silent.

Sir Morn Dread would be somewhere on the other side of the camp now, so the closer she was to the main tent, the faster she would be able to slip inside to find out what the druids were planning here.

The druid camp consisted of a few tents, one taller than the others, along with a huge pit, dug out from the earth for reasons Emerald didn’t know.

Whatever they were planning here, it mustn’t be good.

Just then, there were a few shouts and the mercenaries dropped their crates and ran over behind the tents.

Perfect.

Leaving the shadows, Emerald kept her form low as she dashed straight towards the druids, who were not looking in her direction.

Extending her hidden blades, Emerald stopped beside them and stretched her arms out, stabbing them both in their necks. Both druids gurgled in their own blood and reached for their wounds before falling to the sides.

Walking into the tent, Emerald was quick to find a table with scattered notes and ingredients. She sifted through the scrolls, looking for anything of value.

“Nimhe’s orders…” She picked up one of the scrolls and held it to a candle. “Bring supplies, find harvest spider venom, crippling fear… Distraction?”

That last word caught Emerald off guard. These druids were here as a distraction, but a distraction for what?

And then Emerald began to hear the sounds of metal clashing outside. Sir Morn must’ve already engaged the druid forces. Keeping the scroll on her belt, Emerald unsheathed Amore and crept back out of the tent.

Over behind the tent, Sir Morn was engaged in combat with three mercenaries, with two more druids standing by the side, their hands in their magic pouches.

Rushing over, Emerald stabbed one mercenary in the back, then swung her sword out, cutting another across the arm before stopping beside Sir Morn.

“Nice to see you, my lady.” Morn held out Clarent in both hands. “What do we have?”

“We should make this quick. I believe the druids have plots elsewhere.”

“Kill them!” One of the druids tossed over a cloud of red powder.

Emerald dodged aside, only to be tackled by another mercenary, both of them rolling down into the dug out pit.

“Hang on, Lady Emerald!” Sir Morn Dread speared his sword through a mercenary’s chest and ran over.

The former pegasus pushed to her hands, keeping an eye on the mercenary who had fallen in with her, who now had his battleaxe out in both hands.

The two druids walked over to the pit, grabbing a handful of their red powder, readying it. And then they were launched down into the pit as Sir Morn barreled into them, leaping into the air and bringing Clarent down.

The mercenary only had so much time to run out of the way before Clarent cut into the dirt, sending soil flying up.

While Morn took care of the mercenary, Emerald figured she would handle the two druids. Not being warriors, the druids were not so quick to get back on their feet. Emerald was already beside the first before he could get up, cutting up with Amore, creating a long red gash across his chest. The druid fell back and stopped moving.

The second druid, however, Emerald didn’t want to kill instantly. She wanted some answers, especially if this group was meant as a distraction for something greater.

“You’re going to tell me everything about why you’re here!” Emerald grabbed the druid by the robes and hauled her up. “What are you plotting?”

“You shall not gain anything from me!” The druid squirmed in Emerald’s grasp, grabbing her hand and trying to force her away, but to no avail. “I will never tell you what you want to hear!”

“Oh, really?” Emerald was nonplussed. “We’ll see about that. A few days in the Canterlot dungeons should loosen those lips of yours.”

“I’ll never talk,” the druid insisted. “Never, never, never.”

“I wager you will,” Emerald said bluntly with the confidence of someone who had coaxed information out of captives before. “Now spill it, and I won’t throw the royal torturer at you.”

“You’ll never get a word from me.”

At that point, Emerald felt a stinging pain on her palm. She instinctively flexed her arm, and her hidden blade shot out of its housing and stabbed something. It was long, thin, and brown, except for the place where her weapon had skewered it, and it was coming out from the druid’s sleeve.

“A snake?” Emerald muttered. “What…?” She dropped the druid and stepped back.

“Ha!” the druid said, turning tail and running. “You’ve lost, Knight of the Round Table. The druids have slain you today! Hahaha!”

“Lady Emerald!” Sir Morn ran up to her, the mercenary behind him dead on the floor. “What are you doing? You just let that druid escape!”

“Sorry. I was just a little stunned.” She turned her hand upside down and looked at the spot the snake had bitten her. Its fangs had gone right through her glove, puncturing two holes in her skin. “There was a snake in the druid’s sleeve. Sir Morn, these druids here, they were just a distraction. There’s something else going on...”

“A distraction, you say…” Sir Morn frowned, looking at Emerald’s injured hand. “I must say I do not like the look of that bite. What if the snake was venomous? We must have you looked at.”

“No, no, I’m fine, Sir Morn. We have more pressing matters, like what the druids are planning here. If this place was to throw us off their scent then…” Emerald put a hand to her head. “Uh, hmm…?” Sir Morn seemed to be vibrating, his body turning into waves. No, it wasn’t just him. The world around her seemed to be doing the same. “Sir Morn, something’s… I don’t… Venomous? Can’t be...”

Emerald’s eyes rolled back in her head and she fell forward, and would have hit the ground if Sir Morn had not caught her.

“Oh dear,” the male knight said grimly. “We simply must get you back to the castle before the venom takes its toll. Do not worry, my lady. I shan’t let you die. I cannot.”

And without another word, he picked Emerald up like a sack of potatoes and ran for their horses.

---

“Hmm.”

Moon Tide removed the monocular from her eye and put a finger onto the bite wound on Emerald’s hand. She then put her finger to her mouth and licked it.

“Gross… What is it, Moon Tide?” Sonata Dusk looked closer at the bite marks.

“Asp venom. Not a local variety of snake. This one must have come all the way from Saddle Arabia.”

“Saddle… Arabia?” Sir Morn creased his eyebrows. It wasn’t a place he had been before.

“It’s a far-off land. Just beyond the Sallow Swamp and the Coltcasus Mountains.” Moon Tide began mixing up a bowl of medicinal leaves. “Vast fields of sand, son. As far as the eye can see. I do not know what business the druids have there, but I can tell you that I can cure Emerald. It is a good thing you brought her here so quickly.” She picked up a bottle of ominous red liquid and poured a few drops into the ground-up leaves. “A pinch of blood, and that should do it. Would you tilt her head back so she can drink?”

Morn put his hands on Emerald’s head and bent it back, then gently opened her mouth as Moon Tide finished grinding up her ingredients into a thick gooey substance. Tilting the bowl to Emerald’s lips, she tipped the contents in, both of them watching as it disappeared down Emerald’s throat.

“There.” Moon Tide put the empty bowl down. “That should do it. She will just need time to rest.”

“How long will that be?” Sir Morn asked, looking down at Emerald’s sleeping form.

“Three days at most. She needs time for the brew to counteract the venom. She’ll wake up when it’s over, feeling none the worse for wear.”

“Thank you, mother.” Sir Morn caressed Emerald’s face. “If not for you, she would have surely left us.”

“I am sure there would be other mages here willing to help.” Moon Tide smiled and sniffed the air. “Do not worry for her. She is safe now. She just needs time.”

“But there aren’t any other mages who can-” Moon Tide clamped a hand over Sonata’s mouth. “Right, what I meant to say is, there are no mages as good as Moon Tide. Maybe except Clover and Light Speckle.”

“The one who did this, mother, she escaped,” Morn said, slightly frowning. “I cannot let her get away with it. And Lady Emerald said that druid camp was but a distraction. To throw us off their real intentions. I need to find them. I need to stop them.”

“My son, you cannot expect to take on the druids alone, especially if the camp that you raided was a distraction. Even you wouldn’t be able to do that…”

“But mother!”

“...which is why I’m coming with you.”

Morn stepped back and blinked a few times. He didn’t expect to hear that. “You will? But you are not trained in combat, mother. I cannot allow this.”

“I may not yet be as skilled as you are in a fight,” Moon Tide said, rummaging around in her cabinets and bringing out small brown pouches. “But that does not mean I cannot hold my own in battle. And someday, I will be as good as I need to be. Sonata, can you get me a pair of flints?”

“Right away!” The muse disappeared up the stairs.

Morn watched as Moon Tide put her pouches in a little satchel and slung it over her shoulder. “Very well, mother. But you must be careful. I cannot lose you like I almost did with Lady Emerald. The two of you mean the world to me.”

“I know, son. I will be very careful.” Moon Tide smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Do you have any leads on where to go?”

“I would think they would be close to the campsite we raided. No use having a distraction too far away, yes?”

“Good point, Morn. Is there a village nearby? It could be a possible target for the druids. They do enjoy their sacrifices.”

The knight placed a hand on his chin as he thought. “The village of Gleandale was close. Do you think they would attack them?”

“I have no doubt,” Moon Tide said solemnly. “Come, we must go. Perhaps we might still have time to stop them.

Sonata Dusk was quick to come back down the stairs, carrying a pair of flints in her hand. “Here you go, Moon Tide! I got it from Secret Fire. He said you could borrow them.”

“Thank you, Sonata.” Moon Tide dropped the flints into her satchel. “Would you stay here and watch Lady Emerald Edge?”

“I will watch her with my life!” Sonata said proudly.

“Thank you, muse.” Sir Morn nodded to her and turned for the stairs. “Come, mother. Time is a wasting.”

---

The ride back out towards the forest they had found the druid camp didn’t take long. Moon Tide sat behind Morn Dread as Windspeed galloped along the dirt path leading to Gleandale.

Every few minutes, Moon Tide would tilt her head up and sniff at the air. Morn did the same once, but he didn’t pick up anything odd.

All the way there, the only thing he could think of was bringing justice to Emerald’s poisoner. That druid deserved it for trying to kill the lady knight.

Morn didn’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if he had not gotten Emerald back to the Mages’ Tower in time. What would he do if he had lost her? His face darkened. Those druids were going to pay for what they had done, and he was going to use Clarent to collect.

“Hmm. There is a trail here,” Moon Tide said conclusively. She pointed northwest. “The druids who were here. They went that way.”

Sir Morn nodded, turning his steed in that direction. “Then that way we shall go.”

The two rode on at a brisk trot, Windspeed’s hooves clicking against the pebbles that lined the way. Moon Tide took the opportunity to take out her compact crossbow and check the string and trigger.

“You know, I’m not sure the druids know what they want,” the mage remarked. “They want to, what, rule the land? Do the know how much trouble that is? The king barely has time to sleep, he’s so busy with all the logistics and bureaucracy. Half the time the queen has to take over for him. If the druids were spreading terror for the sake of spreading terror, at least that I could understand. But wanting to take over Canterlot is just far too much trouble, at least the way they’re going about it. Taking over a kingdom should be done either slowly and stealthily, or in one decisive move, don’t you think?”

“I do not wish for anyone to take over,” Morn stated. “Canterlot belongs to King Dawn Saber and his kin. That is how it should remain. I am a Knight of the Round Table for that very reason.”

“You say Dawn Saber’s kin, but he as of yet has no heir,” Moon Tide pointed out. “If he were to… not be alive anymore, someone would have to take over. Ever thought about that, my son?”

“They will simply choose a regent, would they not? That is what I was taught as I trained as a knight. They will pick someone they trust, mother. And if that person is trusted by the king, then he shall be trusted by me. Tis my duty to serve this kingdom and its rulers.”

“Hmm, yes, I suppose you’re right,” Moon Tide said quietly. “Well, we’re making good time. The scent is getting fresher. We’ll be onto them before the day is done.”

“But the day has barely begun, mother.” Morn looked over to the mountain range, where the first rays of light were making themselves known.

Moon Tide sighed. “Well, yes, but I would prefer to get this over and done with so I can go back to my quarters and sleep. And I’m sure you would sooner get back to Emerald Edge. I hope Sonata hasn’t done anything reckless while I’m gone. Like try to set Emerald on fire to get her to wake up.”

Morn began to picture it and wished he hadn’t. It was rather gruesome.

The two of them traveled further on horseback until Moon Tide told him to stop beside a patch of forest, just south of where they had found the druid camp last night. This had to be it.

“This is it,” Moon Tide told him, sliding off his horse.

“I never did ask, mother.” Morn hopped off beside Moon Tide. “But how can you tell where they are?”

Moon Tide smiled. “I’m clairvoyant.”

“Really?” Sir Morn’s eyebrows shot up. “I did not know that.”

“I’m not being serious. But as a mage, I’m entitled to know things. This is one of them.”

“Maybe I should have become a mage like you wanted, mother.”

“Maybe, if, but, perhaps. You became a knight, not a mage, and I’m proud of you regardless. Now let us go get those druids.” Moon Tide then set off at a brisk pace toward the trees, loading a glass-headed bolt in her crossbow.

Morn unsheathed Clarent and put his helmet on. “I shall lead, mother. You stay behind me.”

Moon Tide shrugged. “As you wish.”

Holding Clarent in his firm grip, Sir Morn strode off in the direction of the trees, with Moon Tide following close behind. She kept her crossbow angled toward the ground, ready to swing up and fire at the slightest sign of trouble.

It wasn’t long before the smell of wood burning made itself known. Sir Morn held up a fist and the two of them stopped.

“I believe we are nearing their camp,” the knight said quietly. “What is our course of action, mother?”

“Oh, my son needs to ask me for direction?” Moon Tide wore an amused face. “You know, I would like to see how you perform normally. Just pretend I am one of your knights. What would you decide to do?”

“Well,” Morn said thoughtfully. “Were I with another knight, I would suggest we draw swords and charge, but I feel that we may be outnumbered and I do not want harm coming to you unnecessarily. So we should look around and see what we are up against.”

“Alright,” Moon Tide said, tilting her head back and taking a deep sniff. “But I can tell you right now that I detect at least seven people up ahead, no more than nine. One seems to be bestial in nature. Likely a troll. There’s also a large bonfire, and something which I can’t properly sense. It’s moving, though, that much I can tell.”

“Perhaps we can take the Emerald route, mother.” Morn looked over to a thicket. “You could hide in there, waiting to strike while I approach the front. Then when the time is right, you can work your magic. Just please, be careful. I do not want the risk of losing you too.”

“I am not so easily disposed of,” Moon Tide sniffed. “But I appreciate the sentiment. Very well, we will do things your way, or rather, Emerald’s way.”

Moon Tide walked over to the shrubbery and crouched down with it, taking aim with her crossbow at the closest person. Sir Morn nodded and hefted his sword, pushing aside a branch to give himself access to the clearing.

Moving rather stealthily for a man encased in armor, Sir Morn was able to creep up to one of the many tents that dotted the open area and crouch behind it. He poked his head out to look. There were, as his mother had predicted, eight people sprinkled around, none of them looking in his direction. In one corner was a troll, shackled to a sturdy tree trunk. What he did not see, however, was the unidentified moving thing that Moon Tide had detected.

“Must be inside one of the tents,” Sir Morn muttered. He also recognized the druid who had poisoned Emerald, standing by the fire and sharpening a long, curved knife.

“You first.” An anger burned inside Sir Morn and he could almost feel it radiating out from his body. That druid had poisoned Emerald with a serpent from the desert lands. A highly venomous serpent, at that. He counted himself lucky that he got Emerald back in time for his mother to heal her, but the druid that did this, she was still standing there, alive. It was like an insult to Morn.

Hollering a battlecry, Sir Morn raised Clarent above his head and charged. The druid turned around a second too late as Morn’s mighty cleave split her from shoulder to hip.

He flicked his sword to the side to scatter the blood and smirked at the corner of his mouth. “For Lady Emerald. You harmed the woman I love and now you have paid the price. And now for the rest of your camp. No more innocents shall be hurt this day.”

An explosion signalled the beginning of Moon Tide’s attack. A druid fell to the ground close by, a crossbow bolt embedded in his forehead up to the fletchings.

The rest of the druids, by now, had realized they were under attack, and had all gathered into a pack in front of the bonfire. One of them stopped to let the troll loose. The beast roared and stomped toward Sir Morn. The knight grinned inside his helmet and flourished his sword at his side.

“Come get me, big fellow.”

Sir Morn hefted Clarent and ran at the troll. The beast reached out with both arms to grab the knight, but at the last moment, Sir Morn dropped into a slide, slipping between the troll’s hairy legs and cutting a deep gash along its knee. Another explosion sent the druids scattering.

Good shooting, mother. Sir Morn thought before sprinting after the closest druid as the troll collapsed on one knee behind him.

The druid tossed a fistful of magic into Morn’s face, the red powder instantly working away at his metal helmet and left shoulder. Morn was quick to cut him down, almost seemingly covering the distance between them in a split second. The druid was almost as surprised as he was before he cut the man down, spinning the druid’s body as Clarent cleaved right through his chest.

Then the knight was quick to dispose of his helmet and left pauldron before the magic could eat away at the rest of his armor. As soon as his helmet hit the ground, the metal base crumpled under its weight and sagged to one side, still dissolving slowly.

Morn Dread turned back to face the troll as two barbarians charged at him from either side, one with a mace, the other with a warhammer. More explosions came, these ones uncomfortably close, but Sir Morn barely felt the heat. The first barbarian had his back set on fire, but he kept running on anyway. Morn suspected the druids must have hit them with that berserker magic to make them stronger.

The blue haired knight first duck under one barbarian’s swing, then stood back up and blocked the second one’s mace from crushing his head, at the same time, kicking out at the first one, sending him tumbling to his face. He was just about to stab the first barbarian in the chest when the troll rejoined the fight, swiping Morn across the field with an arm swing. Morn tumbled on the grass, stopping beside a burning tent, where a druid lay dead, his whole form engulfed in fire.

Spitting out a blade of grass from his mouth, Morn got back on his feet and readied Clarent in his hands. The troll let out a bellowing roar before stomping its way over, pushing the barbarians aside as it lumbered on. Morn advanced, charging straight for the best, his sword pointed to its heart.

The troll balled a fist and swung it, but Morn lifted Clarent and slashed horizontally, removing three of the beast’s fingers from its hand. The troll roared again, but its arm kept going, punching Morn in the chest.

The knight grunted and fought hard, forcing his feet to remain planted on the ground. With a battlecry, he pushed back with his free hand, stopping the troll’s punch in its tracks.

“What sorcery?!” he heard a nearby druid gasp. He was standing by the barbarians, a phial in his hands.

Looking back up, Morn threw the troll’s hand aside and thrust his sword forward, piercing straight through the creature’s flesh, feeling his blade tear apart its insides. Turning around, Morn yanked his sword back out, spraying warm blood across the burning tent beside him. The troll stood for a moment on wobbly feet, before falling flat on its face.

The barbarians charged at him, blunt weapons raised, but almost faster than a blink of an eye, Sir Morn had attacked, running up to them and slashing at their unarmored bodies before they could even attempt a strike. Morn’s eyes had gone wide with surprise. It was like everything had slowed down around him. He could see their attacks, he could see where they were going, and he had known they were never going to reach him before he would get them.

The first barbarian’s head soared him, disappearing into the air, while the second one clutched at his destroyed chest, blood dripping from a large wound across it, along with from his mouth.

“What… are you?” The druid took a step back.

Morn dashed forward and thrust his sword through the robed man, watching the blade emerge from his back. “I am Sir Morn Dread, Knight of the Round Table of King Dawn Saber’s court. And you shall harm no one else today.”

The druid’s eyes rolled back as Morn let his body fall. There were many dead bodies littering the grounds now, but there was still no sign of what his mother had mentioned. The only large thing Morn encountered was the troll and that was no more. So was there still something else they had overlooked?

And then he felt it. Pain seared across his abdomen, forcing him down on his knees. A small gasp emerged from his mouth as he tried to steady his vision. He first looked down at himself, but there was nothing there. No weapon had touched his body.

On instinct, Morn turned his head to the direction his mother was attacking from and his eyes shot open wider. There she was, standing by the bushes he had left her. There were two dead druids and a barbarian close to her, but a second barbarian had driven his sword straight through her gut, the tip pointed out of her back. Moon Tide was doubled over as the barbarian sneered at her, twisting the sword in her abdomen.

“No!” Morn yelled, scrambling to his feet. He fought against the pain as he ran for his mother’s attacker, raising Clarent high.

The barbarian removed his sword and thrust it into Moon Tide again, and again, and again. Blood dribbled down the corner of her mouth as the barbarian continued stabbing. With each thrust, a new pain burned across Morn’s own abdomen, like he was the one being stabbed. It was almost unbearable, but his mother needed him. He had to protect her.

With fire burning in his eyes, Morn got back to his feet and trudged over. Two more druids stood in his path, readying their bags of magic, but Morn was having none of it. First, they dared to harm Emerald, and now they were trying to kill his mother.

“Raaah!” And Morn leaped forward, almost an entire three meters ahead, his knee connecting into the chest of one druid.

He heard bone break as he threw Clarent into the second druid, impaling him straight through the head, the force sending his body falling back, propped up by Clarent as it embedded itself in the dirt.

Morn Dread ran straight for the barbarian who was stabbing his mother and tackled him down.

“How dare you attack my mother?!” he barked at the man.

He swung his armored fists at the man’s face over and over again, red beginning to cloud his vision, and his armor as the barbarian’s blood splattered against him. Even after the barbarian stopped struggling, Morn continued to pound against his disfigured face, so angry at what he had done to his mother.

He had never known his father and his mother never wanted to talk about him. After all these years, Morn guessed that he must have tragically died and that his mother must have loved him so much that she wasn’t over it, even until now. And now his mother was lying close by, her life seeping from her wounds inflicted upon her by this uncivilized son of a pig. Her life seeping away…

Realizing just that, Morn stopped his assault and ran back over to his mother, who had a hand over her abdomen, her blue outfit caked in her own blood.

“Mother! No, no…” Morn held her head up and held one of her hands. “I told you, you had to be careful…”

“Yes, I’m sorry son.” Moon Tide winced at the pain. “They started coming… for me. I tried to… hold them back, but I guess… I wasn’t skilled enough.”

“We must get you back to the Mages’ Tower.” Morn grasped her hand tightly, tears welling in his eyes. He had never dreamt of losing his mother. He just couldn’t lose her. “I cannot lose you, mother. I love you, you must not die.”

“I know. Which is why... you must look away. Just... for a few minutes, and then everything will be better, you shall see.”

Morn’s face grew troubled. “But mother, why?”

Moon Tide fixed her son with a weak, but stern glare. “Because the magic I am about to work... must never be seen by the unready. And you are not...”

“V-Very well, mother.” Sir Morn stood up and turned away. There was a fwoosh, followed by the sound of crackling flames. Sir Morn felt a slight breeze behind him, ruffling up his hair, then there was nothing.

“Alright, you can look now,” came Moon Tide’s voice.

The knight turned around, taking note of a strange burning smell that was now in the air.

Moon Tide stood up, brushing specs of soot and ash off the front of her robe. The injuries she had sustained seemed to have stopped bleeding as well. In fact, he could see her smooth blue skin through the holes in her robes, though there seemed to be some odd black marks on it. It was as though she had been untouched.

“Mother, you are all better!” Sir Morn ran to her and threw his arms around her in a warm embrace. “You-You have healed yourself… Just like I am able to. What you have, was it perhaps passed down to me?”

Moon Tide’s eyes flicked to the side. “Yes, in part. Even for a mage, I am special, and only a chosen few in the world possess my… abilities. It seems only natural that my son would be gifted with similar powers. But don’t speak of them too much.” The mage patted him on the back, then bent down to pick up her discarded crossbow. “We wouldn’t want anyone asking questions, now would we?”

“I suppose not, mother. Tis strange, to be able to heal so quickly, but… I am glad. Glad that you are still here with me.” Morn put a hand to his mother’s cheek and ran his thumb along it. “Oh, and mother, you mentioned something with a lot of movement that you were not able to determine. I have not caught sight of anything like that. Is it still here?”

“I believe it is in one of the tents. Let us have a look.”

Retrieving Clarent from the dead druid and using its tip, Sir Morn pulled one of the tent flaps open. After two empty tents, the third one yielded a result.

“Ugh! What is that?”

The two Canterlotians looked on a large mesh cage, cube-shaped and roughly the height of a man. Two wooden rods were fastened to the sides, presumably to lift and move it. However, it was what was inside the cage that elicited the most reaction.

In the cage, writing around like an oversized ball of yarn, were dozens and dozens of snakes. They slithered over each other and all over the cage, giving it the impression that there was one singular monster inside.

“So that’s what it was,” Moon Tide said, leaning over to inspect the cage. Some of the serpents threw themselves against the mesh, trying to bite her.

“I should have guessed it was something foul like this.”

Moon Tide nodded, continuing to examine the cage. “They must have planned to release this on the town. It is a good thing we stopped them. Asps are dangerous snakes. Many would have succumbed to the venom if we left this alone.

“We should get rid of these,” Moon Tide decided. She raised her head and sniffed. “Come, grab hold of the cage and follow me. I think I have an idea.”

Morn did as he was told, hauling up the cage from the side. An asp lashed out and tried to bite him, but his arm armor prevented it from doing so.

He followed Moon Tide away from the burning campsite, where they walked for about ten minutes before he, too, smelled something.

Water.

“This pond should be perfect for our uses,” Moon Tide pointed at a largish water hole, filled with muddy liquid and some small fish. “Just throw the cage in there, and the druids’ plans will be sunk.”

Morn didn’t think twice about getting rid of the snakes. Emerald would probably not agree with drowning the snakes, but they were too dangerous to just let go. They had to be disposed of.

Raising the cage high, he tossed it into the pond, where there was a big splash before the cage started slowly sinking down into the water, the snakes disappearing from sight one by one. Morn put an arm around his mother as they watched, glad that she was fine now and that she was still with him. He inhaled and picked up a nice scent coming from her, smiling to himself.

They stood there until the cage was completely submerged, then Moon Tide nodded with satisfaction and turned away.

“Well, mission accomplished. Let’s head back home, why don’t we?”

---

Emerald Edge woke up in her bed, gazing up at her wooden ceiling. She blinked a few times, then groaned as she swallowed. Her mouth tasted really bad and it was almost as dry as Foxtrot’s horse nibbles.

She heard a clutter of footsteps and soon, a hand wrapped tightly, but comfortingly around one of hers.

“My lady, you have awoken.”
Emerald turned and blinked a few times, her vision adjusting to see Sir Morn sitting beside her.

He was just the human she wanted to see, but she couldn’t remember much.

“Sir Morn…” Emerald croaked, but smiled. She tried to sit up, pushing to a sitting position, but she couldn’t stay up for too long. In the end, she collapsed against Morn, but at least it was comfortable. “I… What happened? I was bitten by the… snake, then I do not remember more.”

“I brought you right back to Canterlot, were mother was able to save you. The druids had planned a distraction, Emerald.” Morn gave her a hug with one arm. “I suspect they had planned to ship out a cage of snakes to the town of Gleandale. Then it would not have just been you alone who had been bitten. But mother and I stopped them and disposed of the snakes accordingly.”

“That’s a relief. And Moon Tide went out there with you? I must thank her next I see her. For both saving me and for helping you. But Sir Morn, you saved me to. If not for you, who would bring me back to the tower?”

“Yes, I suppose tis true.” Morn held Emerald close. “I am glad that you have recovered, my lady. I could not imagine to lose you. Not like this. The druids that had done this deed, they have been vanquished. They will no longer harm you or anyone else again.”

“You and Moon Tide fought them all by yourselves?” Emerald said in awe. “That itself is a feat worthy of a tapestry.”

“Oh, it wasn’t anything to boast about,” Sir Morn said, trying very hard not to look proud. “Besides, mother wants us to keep this quiet. She doesn’t want to be pestered by adoring fans.”

“Oh,” Emerald said. “Well, at least let me go and convey my thanks to her.”

“And you may, once you have washed the venom from your body. Mother said you would need about three days to purge that snake’s poison. Once you are well, we will visit the Mages’ Tower.”

“But I will have you to look after me these next three days, yes?” Emerald leaned her head against the knight’s chest. “It is nice, to have you with me.”

“It is a knight’s duty to watch over their fellow knights if they become incapacitated. Even if you were not, ahem, my dear lady, I would stay by your side until you get better.”

Emerald smiled and lay back on the bed. In spite of the ordeal she had just been through, she felt safe and happy and warm. With Sir Morn by her side, she felt as secure as a baby pegasus nestled under its mother’s wing.

She held his hand and closed her eyes. “I love you, Sir Morn.”

---

Comments

[Jaxxon Markus Citadel]

I really liked this chapter. It's full of bonds and friendship and family, with a little bit of mysticism thrown in. Since Moon Tide is a changeling, it's not surprising that she can heal herself like that, as it's also been seen in the other Bloodlines stories, but she hasn't told her son about what she really is? I expect he will find out later.

[Sonata Eternal]

What a pain indeed to be bitten. At least Morn and his mother are good at this. Emerald should be considered lucky.

[Marcthelightspark2004]

Asps. Very dangerous. You go first Indy.

This was a good chapter. Yet, another masterpiece.

[MoonlightRift]

“I may not yet be as skilled as you are in a fight,” Moon Tide said, rummaging around in her cabinets and bringing out small brown pouches. “But that does not mean I cannot hold my own in battle. And someday, I will be as good as I need to be. Sonata, can you get me a pair of flints?”

Oh. Oh my god you clever son of a bitch. Giddy again, god damn it

“You know, I’m not sure the druids know what they want,” the mage remarked. “They want to, what, rule the land? Do the know how much trouble that is? ...Taking over a kingdom should be done either slowly and stealthily, or in one decisive move, don’t you think?”

Okay, this makes me agree with a previous comment, they totally become the Templars.

The barbarians charged at him, blunt weapons raised, but almost faster than a blink of an eye, Sir Morn had attacked, running up to them and slashing at their unarmored bodies before they could even attempt a strike. Morn’s eyes had gone wide with surprise. It was like everything had slowed down around him. He could see their attacks, he could see where they were going, and he had known they were never going to reach him before he would get them.

Mans unlocked Ultra Instinct wtf

Hella good chapter, god damn.