I laid there, staring at the ceiling. I always had trouble sleeping at home when Gleam was out on rotation. The bed seemed too large, too cold, too uncomfortable. I had gotten used to hearing his light snore through the last four years. It was comforting, like how the sound of a babbling brook or steady rain could lull you to sleep.
But now, I just had the silence and the fact that Pinkie had dredged up painful memories. Oh, I couldn’t fault the mare, she didn’t mean to pull on the stitches that held that wound shut.
It had been after one of my more dangerous adventures, just after I had met Gleam. I had gone out and found a cave that wasn’t marked on my map - though when you talk about the wild that hardly meant anything. Maybe twenty percent was mapped, and of that maybe half was accurate. But true to self, I went in.
It was laced with quartz, entire stalactites of the cloudy crystal crisscrossing the entire cavern. I was shocked momentarily by the beauty of it all. And then I saw the shrine, deep within the cavern.
It was maybe three feet tall, made of slowly rotting wood and some bronze pillars. What looked like a crude depiction of a centaur in gold and silver sat in the middle of the shrine.
I lifted the idol with my magic, my light dimming at the increased mana draw, listening closely for any sound that would indicate the release of a hidden trap, but none came. I tucked the idol away and started back up towards the surface, planning to mark my map when I was out where I didn’t have to split my magic between lighting my way and doing precise cartological updates.
I didn’t see the crack in the floor, but my hoof caught it solidly, sending me crashing down, the shock of the collision breaking my concentration and my light went out. I coughed a few times, trying to regain my breath and relit my horn, looking back at what I had tripped over. That was when I felt the low rumble, like a giant tomcat purring.
And the shrine collapsed as the ground underneath it fell away, the entire cave starting to give in. I scrambled to my hooves, racing for the entrance, leaping opening crags and dodging falling rocks, deflecting a few with my magic. I was almost out when a chunk of quartz caught me across my flank, sending me into a tumble as my hip blazed with pain.
I remember making it outside, but between that and waking up in a hospital in Las Pegasus, I had no memory. I don’t know if I had dragged myself to civilization or if I had been found by somepony and taken to receive aid, but whatever had happened, I had not fared well in that misadventure. I spent ten weeks in a wheelchair while my pelvis and left leg mended, and then another three weeks on restriction. It wouldn’t have been so bad if that had been the extent of it. I could still play, so I could still perform for small events.
On my last visit to get my all clear, the dark clouds had rolled in as the doctor came in, a sad look on his face. My heart clenched as he began to speak.
I woke suddenly, not even realizing I had fallen asleep. Tears were streaming and my muzzle was already soaked.
I couldn’t be mad at Pinkie. It wasn’t that I didn’t want a foal. It was more that I couldn’t have a foal. I sniffed at the memory of the doctor telling me that, the memory of how my foolish behavior one night robbing me of something that I had always wanted from the time I could remember. I had been raised an orphan, and the sense of family was something I always wanted.
I had found a sense of that in Gleam, but though he didn’t fault me for my inability to bear young and loved me all the same, I knew he had wanted a foal, a colt or filly to dote on in his retirement.
I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. I had to play at a young colt’s cute-ceañera. the day after tomorrow. I couldn’t let old memories drag me down.
But even in the dark, my eyes drifted over to the where my map of the wild lay, calling me with the seductive call of adventure.
I rolled onto my side, away from the map, foreleg going out to pull Gleam’s pillow to me. The pillow was full of his scent and it helped me fall to sleep again.
Yet another chapter!
Ovo as a peculiar actor would say, I am entertained.
What makes me inquire though, is why Azure is a bard, and yet explores the unknown. Seems like an Indiana Jones type job force, by day a bard, by night ADVENTURE!
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Azure was a character I made for a Pony styled Dungeons and Dragons campaign that fell through. She was a bard class, and I can't think of her any other way.
But, she does have pretty bad wanderlust, hence the adventure.
8036077
Well then! I've never actually thought of doing that type of character building. Then again, D&D has never worked out, considering half the time, the dungeon master we work with is drunk, and or not fully into the game.
Totally a character and mood killer. But I salute the charisma, agility and initiative skills!
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I spend a lot of time on my RPG characters, fleshing out backgrounds so the Dm has info to tie into the campaign to make my character want to do things. I hated the thought of just tossing her aside...and then found the site and decided she had purpose again.
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Right? I tend to keep my characters in digital and formal ways. There are small apps that can keep your characters under wraps until you need them and there are times of where I'll make one, forget about it, and come back to them and it's like a reunion. It's just kinda hard coming up with a good background. At least, that's how it is for an odd bone like meh.
My favorite character was a monk called Gonzo. I use was intrepidly because his life was short lived after coming face to face with a mimic.
Damn shame.
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She made her debut in Year's End if you want some more exposure to her. She's also a background pony at the Hearth's Warming Ball from The Wooing of Sunset Shimmer.
Awww. Oh my. Poor Azure.
It's sad that Gleam wants a foal too but they can't. I'd say some other way must be possible like adoption or magic but such decisions are of course very specific and personal to the couple.
Very interested to see where this leads.
sigh One of the two most awful pieces of news from a doctor that a want-to-be mother does not wish to hear.