The Disappearance of Harissa Honeycomb

by Miller Minus

9 – ARDEA ALBA!

Commander Fellsaw shot first. Minerva unfurled and swept right as he whizzed past her like a dirty firework. He tucked his head into another tackle and she vaulted him. Dust sprayed into the crowd as he dug in and twisted back towards his opponent, who opened her wings to dodge again.

They stopped for a second, maybe just to lock eyes, which they did. They stood a meter apart, breathing carefully, and a smothering quiet filled the courtyard—thickest between the fighters themselves.

They both grinned. Their hooves came up to chin height.

"Faster'n you look," Minerva observed.

Fellsaw spat in the grass. "It's my business to be faster than I look."

With a leap, he threw his first punch—a jab from the right, whistling past her ear and clipping her braid.

She straightened her wings and hopped to her side, strafing around him in a half-circle—one of her favourites. One quick movement, cutting through the air like she was part of it, and she was behind you.

But Fellsaw swung around too, drawing the rest of the circle and throwing an uppercut at her neck. She sucked in a breath and swept back around, and the commander followed her the same way.

This went on for a few more steps—Minerva dodging just faster than Fellsaw could strike. His body moved separate from his head, like the tail end of a wiry snake following the front end as it struck out for prey. As Minerva dodged left and right and backward, he twisted his head after her and let the rest of his weight follow his flying hooves.

Minerva didn't attack, but Fellsaw was getting closer. A right hook sailed under her chin, and only the two of them knew if he had clipped her. She ducked a left and rolled end over end past the commander as he threw a pile driver down the middle. She stood and neatly craned her head away from a mighty kick, which she snatched out of the air, clutched to her chest, and flipped over it like it was a gymnast's high bar.

The commander grunted and did two barrel rolls before he slammed into the earth with an "Oof!" The offended leg kicked out in pain.

Landing her flip, Minerva did a quick prance around the makeshift arena, rolling out her shoulders like she was still warming up. Her eyes caught those of a scrawny spirit with a buzzcut and a low-hanging jaw.

"Learning anything yet?"

The kid shrieked and pushed with the rest of the crowd out of the way. Minerva frowned and turned, and she had no time to evade the oncoming rocket.

"Shit!"

She fell backwards and he was on her, but with a tuck of her legs, she absorbed his momentum and redirected him over her head.

Fellsaw recovered in midair, swooping upwards and barrelling towards her with both hooves raised.

"SHIT!"

She flipped back to her hooves as Fellsaw crushed the ground in front of her. He slid his forehooves under himself, before throwing a boisterous battle cry and a blistering buck behind him.

Minerva raised a block, but at the last moment, lowered her hooves and arched her body, back farther than she had ever gone before, avoiding the hind legs like a limbo dancer.

"Ssshhhhhhit!"

With an unsure exhale she hopped backwards and away towards the west wall.

The grins at the beginning of the fight were absent now. Fellsaw breathed low and snarling, spittle hanging from one side of his mouth. A trick he learned from Charles, perhaps, who was watching the scene standing upright and alert, with his nose pointed at Minerva like a hunting dog identifying the direction of fresh game.

The crowd dispersed. They had to. Spirits were stranded inside the ring and all around the courtyard as the fight repeatedly crossed boundaries. Every time the poor bystanders grouped together they ended up having to scatter out of Minerva's way, getting herself out of the way of Fellsaw's attacks, with decreasing wiggle room between the strike and the dodge.

"Fight BACK!" Fellsaw finally screamed, causing all the spirits to cringe in unison.

"What do you think I'm doing?!" was the reply, which only made him angrier.

And then he got her. It was inevitable.

It all happened in an instant. It started with Minerva swooping backwards in a hurry, and tripping her leg on the back of the tree stump marking the center of the courtyard. Fellsaw pounced, raising his body on his hindlegs, and spreading his wings and forelegs wide, like a magician fluffing his cape. There was no cape, of course, only the threat of envelopment.

Minerva pulsed her wings backwards and threw her first punch. It undeniably connected, on the side of his chin. His head spun around fast, but snapped back to her faster, and there was no way to stop his momentum now. He fell on her like an engulfing wave, and she couldn't redirect him. They hit the turf in front of the stump. Minerva groaned, the crowd gasped, and Fellsaw was silent.

The onlookers waited, frozen, for the fighters to scramble back to their hooves, or for Fellsaw to stand and demand Minerva surrender, but neither of them moved, though they both panted a storm together. At some point, Terrain and Drowsy had joined the crowd. Everypony present crept up to the pile uneasily.

They stopped when Fellsaw stirred. Shoulders first, he rose like a zombie from the grave, his chest supported by a pair of straight, trembling, purple forelegs.

"Gedd-off!"

He landed like a soaking wet sweater, his tongue springing from his mouth and hitting the dirt.

Minerva exhaled harshly, and wiped sweat off her forehead from where she lay on her back. "Any of you know if… Know if this guy has narcolepsy?"

She waited a moment for an answer, and took the silence as a no.

"Alright then… Eat shit... Learning... Curve."

For a few moments the ponies in the courtyard looked back and forth from the winner, the loser, and the tree stump that had caused it all. The last few seconds of the fight likely replayed in their heads; the answer for what had just happened was simply hiding somewhere.

Portly got tired of trying to find it. "What did you do?!" he belted, jumping to the commander to help, though he didn't know how.

Charles was next, zooming towards Minerva like he was next in line. She yelped and jumped high in the air, hovering just out of his reach.

"He's… He's not waking up!" Portly cried, nudging his commander on the shoulder.

Minerva laughed. "Yeah, that's what being unconscious—Would YOU!?" she drew up her lower hooves to stop Charles from snatching them like apples in a tree. "Somepony get this thing away from me!"

The spirits' only lowered their heads in disbelief.

Minerva cleared her throat annoyedly. "I really should be helping your commander back to his hooves."

Portly snapped to attention and grabbed Charles' chain, wrestling him away. The dog was unwilling, but Portly was stronger.

Minerva landed behind the fallen commander's head. She crouched down and lifted him by the base of his skull in the air, and started to massage either side.

"Wakey, wakey," she sang.

Fellsaw's eyes fluttered open, and Minerva giggled. In a flash of realization, he scrambled to his hooves and swatted hers away. "What did you—?!…Whoa…"

"Not so fast!" Minerva laughed. "You're gonna wanna sit down for a sec, pal."

Fellsaw pressed a hoof to his temples but stayed upright despite a constant sway in his step.

"What just happened," he said after a moment, noticing that the circle of ponies had gotten a lot closer. He looked at Minerva. "We… were fighting and—"

A downcast voice from the crowd said, "You lost."

Fellsaw nearly fell over as he tried to shake out his head. "I…" He swallowed. "I remember…"

The same voice: "It only took one hi—"

"I said I remember!" Fellsaw exploded, and fell back to his rump to shake his head some more. "Ow…"

Charles went to his master's side to nuzzle him, but the stallion didn't acknowledge him, even when he started licking his cheek.

"Right, how'd ya do it, then?"

Fellsaw gave a bewildered look to Portly, before noticing he was looking at Minerva. He wasn't the only one, either. Every single one of his guards—distinct wonder and amazement blooming on their faces—stared at the victor, who, with her lieutenant at her side, was giving the commander a triumphant but dignified smile.

"Whaddya think, Felly?" Minerva asked. "Can I teach your guys a lesson in Equestrian self-defense? I'll make it worth their while."

Fellsaw didn't answer, but it wasn't clear that he knew how that was done. One at a time, he watched his guard's expressions, waiting with mouth-breathing curiosity at what he'd say. And each face he saw seemed to make him more tired—seemed to make his body slump a little bit further on a gradual slide back to the ground.

He stood up and idly stroked Charles's chin. "I think…" he breathed, "I think I need… to go for a

SQUAWK!

"GUH—! No-no-no-no-NO!"

Bang!

"Oof!"

Bam!

"Agh!"

Slam.

Three. Damn. Storeys.

"Ow…" I whined. "What in the…?"

I rolled over to my back and peered up the tree. Staring back at me, not two branches from where I had been perched, was a Pinerian great egret. It made that familiar egret chortle—the one that sounded half like it was gargling water, and half like it had just remembered a joke it once heard.

The bird blinked, hopped twice along the branch, and then flew off into the sky, where its grey coat blended into the clouds.

My ears rang and stung as if there was a blizzard inside my head. The comforting spell was broken. No, shattered. Obliterated. I rubbed my ears softly and slowly; and I nearly broke out in tears from the pain.

I sat up and found more sore parts. My lower back and the right side of my neck had each hit a branch. I stood up, and I felt a dull numbness in my right side, which had kissed the planks. Both my rear hooves throbbed for some reason I couldn't recall. I groaned and rolled my injured parts out. Thankfully, nothing was broken.

I chastised myself, "Wow, Foghorn… Way to almost die on lookout duty. Idiot…"

I limped my way over to the edge of the roof's west side and peered over the courtyard. Nopony seemed to have noticed my fall. Or indeed cared. But I was close enough to hear them now unaided.

"So!" Minerva shouted, commanding everypony's attention. "What I'm about to teach you is super cool. This old fart named Learning Curve back in Canterlot showed me. And, might I add, he guaranteed me, that I would never be able to do it first try."

An impressed sound reverberated through the listening spirits.

"Your ego could fill this courtyard."

"Eat needles, Terry."

"Pine or hypodermic?"

"Pick one."

A few spirits laughed, but most of them cringed at their own imaginations.

"Now, where was I?" Minerva asked the air, sincerely. "Right, okay, so, basically, there's this thing at the back of your neck, right? Here, Terry, can I borrow you?"

Begrudgingly, Terrain skulked his way over to the demonstrating Minerva.

"Right… here," she pointed out a spot at the joint connecting Terrain's head to his neck. "…Maaaayyybbee a little higher? There's this thing called the… Medusa Oblong Cat. Uh…"

Terrain snorted. "Not even close."

"Well, whatever it's called! It's that thing that controls like… all the vital stuff in your body. Like the heart and the lungs and the… other vitals and stuff. That's why sometimes when somepony breaks their neck it's just plain curtains for 'em, y'know? Because the whatever-it's-called gets damaged, so they can't breathe or have a heartbeat anymore. Like I said, really cool stuff."

The spirits went frigidly quiet.

"So! If you can knock a guy real good on the chin, his head spins around so fast that all the muscles around that vital point go all tense and they rub up against it, and your brain goes, 'Oh, shit! My medusa thing! And then you just… power down for a few minutes."

"Does that cause brain damage?" Terrain asked pointedly.

Minerva laughed. "I mean, probably it doesn't."

Terrain swatted Minerva's pressing hoof away from his neck. "Doctor Minerva, everypony."

The spirit pack started laughing, and my heart burst into flames.

Sorry, I guess that's over the top. But I noticed something that I think warrants that reaction. I noticed that Fellsaw and Charles weren't there. They hadn't been since I fell.

They were coming after me. It was the only explanation. The commander and his canine compatriot from hell were coming to take out their anger and embarrassment on me. It was the only damn, freaking explanation. And all I was doing was licking my stupid wounds.

I thwacked myself on the back of the head. "Why did you have to fall?"

Sprinting back to the tree, I found my pain had taken a back seat to the adrenaline. I took three bounds up the stairs and promptly backpedalled back down.

The crow's nest only had one escape route. It was Sitting Ducks 'R' Us.

The roof was the better option. It had two stairs—one at each of the North and South ends. Fellsaw wouldn't approach quietly—he'd be stomping and bellowing names—not one of which would be the one my parents gave me. All I had to do was stay put at the tree, wait for him to come up one stair, and then run down the other.

I slapped my cheeks with my hooves.

There were two of them! What if they pincered me? Was Charles trained enough for that? And Fellsaw had wings, too!

There was only one option. I pressed my back against the tree. I sucked some air in, and got ready to scream my captain's name.

"…don't normally do this…"

My cheeks deflated.

"Hello?" I asked, but I was alone.

"I know what you're going to say, but… I don't see any other way."

I looked down. The voice was coming from under the wooden floor. It was scratchy, it was laboured, and it was unmistakably Fellsaw's.

"…that damn mare from Equestria…"

I scanned in and around the branches overhead for any more boisterous birds, but the tree was empty. I brought the spell back. I closed my eyes and focused my attention on the planks below me. I heard them vibrate, I thought deeper, and the voice rang out clearer.

"I know you won't like it. But the way is clear now."

When Fellsaw spoke his voice echoed around as if he was speaking into a bucket. And when he didn't speak, there was just emptiness where somepony's voice should be. I listened really hard, honest. Nothing.

"And I can promise you… That once this is all over and the dust settles…"

"She… is going to wish she never set hoof in Pinery."

A chill ran from my hooves to my ears and back down again. I heard hoofsteps below and I let the spell go. "Minerva," I said. "Oh no, oh no, oh no, MINERV—"

"—AH! Sheesh, Foghorn, I'm right here."

I spun around, and there she was. Hovering over the west wall, shining like a red-and-purple beacon next to the grey-and-grey clouds.

"Captain! Thank Celestia you're here. I have to tell you… Hey, where's—?"

"TAXI!" came a holler from the courtyard.

Minerva's face blanked. "Hang on a tick," she groaned. Without moving her head, she fluttered back down to earth. A few seconds later she was back, carrying a pained grimace in her face and Terrain in her hooves. A fresh apple was lodged in his teeth.

She heaved the pony onto the roof, and he landed more gracefully than she had probably hoped.

Terrain spat his apple into his hoof. "Cheers, Minnie! Whoa, Fog, what's eating you? Lookout duty that bad?"

"No," I shook my head. It was great, I thought, but I didn't say it. I looked Minerva right in the eyes and told her what I knew. "The commander is after you,."

She blinked. "...We were in line?"

"No!" I pleaded. "As in... I think he's going to try and... kill you!"

Minerva laughed. "Oh, yeah? That's hilarious. Y'know, my opponent for the PLKA exit exam tried to kill me."

"Allegedly," Terrain clarified. "Where is this coming from, Fog?"

I told my friends what I had heard below the roof. Like Terrain told the Queen—adrenaline makes for a really good memory. I repeated every word.

Terrain's eyebrows fell into a concentrated furrow. "But you don't know who was he talking to?"

"Uh… No. Nopony responded. There was just… quietness. Like he was talking to himself, sorta?"

"Charles," Terrain identified.

"Ohhhhh..." I said. I slapped my forehead for good measure. "I really should have thought of that…"

Terrain wagged his apple at me with a confident smile. "Don't worry about it. This is great intel, Fog."

"It is?"

"Yeah. First I was gonna say we need to hightail it to the queen to protect her. But since Minerva did such a great job of turning Fellsaw's anger towards her, we can actually relax a bit."

"Why?" I asked.

Terrain breathed on his apple and rubbed it against his chevrons. "I was speaking to the guard down there for a little bit—the... tired one—and I learned a lot of great information. A lot of pointless junk, too, but it was worth it. I know what's going on now. One hund-o percent."

"'Bout freaking time," Minerva replied.

Terrain smiled. "So, before the commander comes after the mare of the hour, let me tell you guys a story."

Minerva paused. "Oh no… here we go."

"A story?" I repeated.

Terrain nodded. "Yep. I think I'll call it…" He bit hard into his apple. Minerva and I gave him a moment to chew and swallow. And then to wipe the juice off his maw.

"…The Tale of the Racist Pegasus."

Comments

[Ice Star]

I really hope there will be more of these guys. For such a serious story, they’re a riot.

[Miller Minus]

10010667
Has it really been over 2 years since I last updated this?

I'll keep it in mind. I've always known how it ends, it's just about getting the words down. Maybe in the new year.

Thanks for stopping by