The Hollow Pony

by Type_Writer

56 - Lure the Tiger Out of the Mountains

We knew that Gilda was awake when we heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by a panicked screech that made us both jump. Red was on his hooves in a moment, and I struggled to follow, but by the time we were both standing, Gilda had already clawed her way off the bed, and fell onto the floor with a thump, tangled in the dusty blankets.

“Ruttin’—get this off me!” Red moved to help, but he hadn't taken a step before a ripping sound followed Gilda's screech, and the blanket tore in half. From within, Gilda emerged like a morbid parody of a newborn chick; her fur was matted and fluffed up, and her embered eyes darted between the two of us wildly as she gasped for air. Then she shuddered, and drew the shredded blankets back around herself as best she could. “By the void it's cold! Put more wood on that fire!”

I moved over to the firewood bin to rekindle the flames. We only had two pieces of sorry-looking wood left; we'd have to start chopping up furniture or find more bins to take wood from within the palace. Meanwhile, Red moved to Gilda's side.

“How ya feelin'?” Red remained standing, and watched Gilda warily, but Fleur remained on his back. Gilda hadn't woken up well, but she had awoken, and she didn't seem too badly Hollowed at a glance.

“Cold! I told you! Why's it so cold in here?” Gilda ruffled the blankets, and her feathers underneath. “Even under the blankets, why...”

“You've got no body heat. Move closer to the fire.”

Red helped her shuffle closer, and Gilda nearly climbed into the fireplace, she was so desperate for warmth. “It's so rutting cold...where are we? I must've gotten knocked unconscious, this isn't the throne room.”

“Servant's quarters, nearby. Moved you here after Dash killed you, and broke Holly's legs—“

“Dash what?” Gilda interrupted, as she glared at him suddenly with her Hollow embers.

Red exhaled slowly. “She killed ya. Using that weird weapon a' hers.”

Gilda's glare seemed to lose focus, and then her claw shot towards her own breast, where Dash had pierced her through the torso with her spear. The wound had sealed while she was dead, and if there was any trace of it remaining now, it was well-hidden under her fur. “No. No she didn't. I didn't—I didn't die!”

“Gilda—“

“I didn't rutting die!” Gilda shrieked at him, but as the blanket slipped from around her shoulders, she had to stop herself to pull it tightly again. “I didn't die. Because if I died, then I'd be dead. Not a Hollow. Ponies go Hollow, not gryphons, because it's one of those stupid magical pony diseases. Gryphons can't catch it.”

“Holly, get the mirror.”

I was already doing just that. When we had searched the room earlier, we found a small hoof mirror that must have belonged to one of the palace servants in a drawer. The reflective surface was grimy, but I'd already wiped most of that off. I passed the mirror to Gilda, and she hesitated, but did take it, so she could look at her face in the light of the fire.

She didn't speak for a long time after that. She just stared at her reflection, letting out sorry wheezes as she struggled to breathe. Sometimes she moved it around, examining the rest of her face. She spent a while with a talon pulling open her beak, to inspect her mouth. I offered her a glass bottle with half the water inside missing, but she absent-mindedly slapped it away, since she seemed to be too focused on her own appearance.

“Give 'er space, Holly.” Red was seated back at the fire, and while he kept one eye on Gilda, most of his attention turned to prodding at the scraps of wood crackling in the fireplace.

I joined him, after one last glance at our...friend? The word felt strange, in regards to Gilda. But I wanted to keep using it to refer to her. Instead, I turned my attention to Red, whom I could call “friend” with much less hesitation. “How d-do you know...?”

“Saw it durin' the war, before ponies turned Hollow. Someone wakes up without a leg, they need some time to stare at the stump. They're panickin', but tryin’ not to show it, les’ ya disturb 'em and it all explodes out.” Red set the poker down beside the fireplace. “We need more wood t' burn.”

“Y-yeah. I think I s-saw a d-dining room a c-couple doors down. The ch-chairs there might burn w-well.”

“Hope Celestia don't mind. Let's try to get past Dash before we run out of chairs.” Red chuckled quietly, but the laughter only lasted a moment. “What's your plan, next time we fight her?”

My plan? I suddenly felt the weight of responsibility slam down onto my shoulders. I never did well when I was making the plans, or following the plans, I wanted to be as far away from plan-making as I could get—

“Holly, focus,” Red said on seeing the panic in my embers, and he leaned in close. “Let's start simple. Axe or mace?”

I swallowed, and took a swig from the bottle of water that Gilda had declined. It tasted like mold, but it wet my throat. “The m-mace was just too slow to hit D-Dash, and barely b-bruised her pet.”

“So the axe, then?” At my nod, Red continued. “Alright. Aim t' draw blood when fightin' the turtle, and aim for the joints when fightin' Dash. Ah'm thinkin' we gotta wound her pet first so we have some breathin' room, but it'll ruffle her feathers. Can't fight both at once, though.”

So we needed to keep them separate, then deal with them one at a time. But I didn't feel as though I was a match for either Dash or her pet beast. It was a good thing Red—and maybe Gilda—would be with me, because I had no idea how I could possibly handle this fight if I were alone.

Red was much more confident than I; he just glanced at his back, where Fleur was still resting in his weathered leather strap. “Fleur will help me keep Dash busy in the air, if you can just keep the turtle's attention. If ah fall, forget about the fight, and just drag me to the door. Ah'll do the same for you. As for Gilda—“

We flinched as the hoof mirror exploded against the bricks of the fireplace, and we both ducked away from the shards, even if Red was the only one in the room who still had eyes to lose. The sound hadn't even faded, before Gilda wheezed out, “I'm gonna ruttin' kill her! I'm gonna do it! She ruined me, poisoned me with her ruttin' pony disease...”

I waited for more, but when none came, I slowly turned to look at Gilda. The hen had pulled the shredded blankets back over herself, especially around her face, as though she was hiding from the world. “G-Gilda...?”

“Piss off.”

Red sighed, and got to his hooves, avoiding shards of broken mirror as best he could. “We're gonna go fight her again now. If'n you wanna help.”

Gilda parted the blankets just enough to peer at us with a single embered eye. “Now? No, not...not now. Not ready. Still too cold...still can't breathe...”

“Alright. This is our hideaway, so stay here 'til we come back.”

“If you come back,” Gilda spat. “She'll kill you. Like she killed me. Gonna mess up your pretty pony face too, until you look like Holly, a walking corpse...we'll all be walking corpses, but I'll still kill her first...”

“Holly,” Red said, as he tilted his head towards the hallway. I followed him out, and he waited until he had shut the door to the servant's quarters before he continued. “She ain't takin' it well. Might be her first death; mine messed me up pretty badly too.”

I looked at him again; you could barely tell. “H-how...?”

“Ah was dumb. And determined to die, since ah figured Celestia was done with me. So ah kept fightin' stuff bigger and nastier than ah was, 'til ah lost.” He looked back at me, since he was in the lead as we made our way back to the throne room. “Was a big crab, in case you were curious. Startled me, comin' out from under a snowbank. Grabbed me by the neck in a pincer, whipped me around, and next thing ah knew ah was waking up in a snowdrift with an awful crick in my neck.”

Red let out another one of his small chuckles. “Never did find that big bastard. Spent long enough searchin'. Glad he didn't eat me, at least—probably jes’ killed me because I bothered him, not for food.”

The conversation came to an abrupt halt as we noticed a Hollowed golden guard wandering down the hall away from us. We kept our distance as we followed behind, and stayed quiet the entire time to avoid attracting her attention. By the time she was out of sight, we'd made it back to the fog-filled doorway. We only paused long enough for me to shuffle my weapons around, withdrawing Red's old axe and dropping the mace into my bottomless bag. It was a fair bit larger than the other weapons I had used until now, so I stumbled briefly to heft its weight while I followed Red through the fog.

Surprisingly enough, Rainbow Dash was already in the room. She was sitting in between the legs of her giant turtle, looking as sullen as a pony wearing full plate armor reasonably could. Tank's leg was bandaged from where we'd buried the axe in his knee, though the bandages were already loose and blood-stained. That must have been Dash's best attempt at tending wounds, without anyone else to help her.

Rainbow Dash barely gave us a glance as we entered. “Oh, hey, you're back.” When it became clear that it was just the two of us, she followed up with, “Where's Gilda?”

“Y'killed her, Dash. She's dead.” Red said, bluntly.

“Yeah, right. It's not even a funny joke any more these days, Mac. Nopony stays dead any more.” She rolled to her hooves, and looked for a moment like she was about to do some stretches, but then just lost the motivation. She glanced back at us. “Seriously. Is she not coming back?”

I shrugged, and Red tilted his head at her. “Ain't sure. She was hissin' and spittin' when we left, but she said she wasn't ready yet. Think her first death's getting' to her.” After a moment, he added, “Y'seem awfully concerned for a pony that killed her as hard as y'did.”

Rainbow Dash didn't move, aside from clenching her jaw. “Yeah, well...we have...it's...look, I don't know what's going on with anyone these days any more. I can't trust anyone to be the same as they were before. I mean, look at you!”

“An' how much have you changed, Dash?” Red asked, with a long, tired sigh.

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes at that. “Eugh. You sound like the Princess, she's always going on about that. I haven't changed at all. But she's changed a bunch and still acts like nothing's wrong! We went to war for her, but now she's whining at me about fighting you guys—“

I blinked at that. “Us? Me and R-Red?”

“Yeah, yeah. And Gilda too, and anyone else who might come in here.” Dash made air quotes with her hoof. “Noooo, don't kill anyone coming to save me, stop fighting, just roll over and let the demons and zombies and dragons come and eat me alive, that'll fix everything!”

Her hoof dropped back to the marble floor with a clack. “It's ruttin’ exhausting, listening to all that.”

Red shrugged. “Ah'd still listen to it. If ya let us through, we'd listen to it for ya, while y' could go talk to Gilda.”

“I can't—“ Dash paused mid-sentence, like she was going to say something. A dozen expressions danced across her face. She looked as though she wanted to be in both places at once, but knew how impossible that was.

Eventually, her loyalty to the Princess won out over her loyalty to her friends. “...I can't. That's all there is to it. I can't trust anyone up there with her, because if you're lying to me, if you kill her, then that's it. We lose everything. Gilda...rut it, Gilda can just deal with it. She has to.”

“S-so...we're f-fighting, again?” I asked, sadly. It sounded like we were a hair's breadth away from getting past without more bloodshed.

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever. Let's fight, I guess.” Before we could respond, Rainbow slapped the side of her helm, and her angular visor flicked down, locking into place over her face. Her weird guitar-spear was drawn in a moment, but the motions had none of the exuberant flourish that she'd had the first time we fought; just the cold motions of readying a weapon for combat.

“We could not,” Red offered. “Y'sure don't seem like—“

“I said 'let's fight,' damn it!” Rainbow Dash barked, as the giant reptile shook the room by standing up behind her. “Fight me or leave!”

Red let out one last sigh, and Fleur was already in his hoof. I drew Red's old axe—my axe, now—and Rainbow Dash took to the air. Behind her, Tank stood to go to battle—but I noticed his injured leg slowed him down, and he was keeping the weight off of it. Maybe I could use that.

Dash didn't seem to know which of us to engage in a fight, but when Red whipped Fleur up into the air, and the axe came to meet her without a wielder, Dash seemed to realize that she wouldn't get the luxury of choice. For once, she actually seemed to be on the defensive; it wasn't easy to parry an animated axe using a spear and weather magic, and so she had to move creatively to dodge the wide swings.

Meanwhile, Red and Fleur moved as one split into two; she orbited Dash and whipped back to Red's hooves so that he could launch her again, and he never stumbled or fumbled his catch, nor did Fleur ever present anything but the axe's grip to his hooves. For once, Red's swings had altitude and speed, and that seemed to be enough that he could match Dash's speed and ferocity—so long as they were totally focused on each other.

My duty was to engage Tank, and as the big reptile limped closer, I prepared for my own fight. Red's axe was still stained with Tank's blood, and all I had to do was draw more. Tank seemed to fight almost entirely using his weight and armor; he'd crushed one of Red's legs between his jaws before, but he deliberately tried to avoid extending his head from within the safety of his shell. His neck must have been vulnerable, then.

As Tank moved close enough to try and swing his good leg overhead in a move that would have crushed me, I started to scramble away, and to his left, towards the injured leg instead. That kept me out of range, and forced Tank to turn towards me—so I kept circling around his left side, and I felt the great beast snort in frustration as he slowly stomped on the spot to try and keep me in his line of vision.

His bad leg swatted at me, and I stepped back, allowing it to swing past like an airship passing by a mountain peak. When it struck the floor instead, I could feel the whole room shake, and heard the stained glass windows rattle in their frames. I didn't have time to let the world settle, though—I chose that moment to leap forward and swing Red's axe at the cluster of bandages.

That proved to be a mistake; the cloth tore as the sharp axe head slashed through it, but by the time it hit Tank's actual flesh underneath, all the momentum was gone. The bandages started coming undone, revealing ugly wet scabs from the previous injury, but no fresh damage.

Tank yanked his leg back up and out of my reach, but thinking fast, I grabbed onto one of the bandages with my pyromancer's grasp. I had been hoping to tear the rest of it away, using Tank's own strength against him, but instead I found myself yanked away from the ground. My wings unfolded instinctively as I was pulled into the air, and Tank slammed his leg back down to shake me off as soon as he realized I was clinging onto his leg like a persistent insect.

I sprawled across the marble, thankfully away from the giant reptile, but the axe scraped as it slid away from me in turn. I had enough time to stumble back to my hooves as Tank approached, and again I relied on my pyromancy—using a flash of combustion to make him flinch away from the heat and light, and buy me a precious second to run.

“Hey! You two, play nice—ow!” As I grabbed my axe, I glanced back up at where Dash had just yanked Fleur's axe head out of her shoulder. Apparently the flash of my pyromancy had gotten her attention, and Fleur had capitalized on my distraction. I couldn't afford to be distracted in the same way; Tank was already moving back towards me.

I found myself pinned in between the wall of the throne room and Tank, and he was turning to bring his good leg within stomping range again instead. I bolted to his left yet again, to try and focus on his bad leg, and I felt his jaws snapping behind me as I made for the throne. For a moment, I wondered if I could just sprint past it and up the stairs behind, but as I approached, I saw mist rolling out from behind the curtains—Dash had sealed both entrances to the room, and we wouldn't be able to escape without those being dispelled first. Damn.

I turned back to face Tank, and spotted a good chance to swing the axe at his bad leg again—which I eagerly took. The axe cut a new gash in the other side of his leg, and the big turtle flinched. Even though it wasn't much more than the bite of a mosquito, he still seemed to be wary of injuring the leg any further. This time, I was ready for him to pull back, and I pulled the axe back to keep it from getting stuck as fresh blood spattered across the marble. Then, while I had a spare moment, I galloped towards the stairs leading up behind the throne.

My reasoning was that Tank couldn't follow me up here easily, so either he would try and I could attempt to get on top of his shell, or he wouldn't and I could pelt him with pyromancies until he did. My hooves clacked on the marble as I took the stairs two at a time, but when I turned back to look at him, I yelped, because Tank was already on me again. I barely had enough time to throw myself to the left as he extended his head, and he got a mouthful of marble banister instead.

The flaw in my plan was that Tank was ready and willing to climb up the much weaker staircase, and didn't care if he crushed the throne under his weight. I heard splintering wood and cracking stone as he followed me up, and heaved his weight onto the elevated platform. So, those plans needed to change.

Instead, I chose to use his own weight against him. I stumbled towards the staircase on the opposite side, and Tank turned his bulk to follow me—using his bad leg. Instead of going down, I swung the axe at his wounded leg again, and he stumbled instead, as he both tried to get his footing and avoid my swing. More blood gushed across the wrecked thrones, and suddenly the massive creature was only on three legs, with the fourth kicking for a foothold that wasn't there.

This time, I did stumble away from him, as he started to tilt—and went over the side, landing on the edge of his shell. He avoided crushing his own legs by pulling them inside, but now with his shell braced against the floor, he couldn't extend them back out. I'd bought a few seconds, because soon he'd work out how to push himself away from the stairs in such a way that he'd be able to stand properly, and I had to use that time while I could.

I dropped Red's axe, and instead just focused on getting as much speed as I could—before I leapt off the staircase towards the edge of Tank's shell. If I messed this up, then Tank could crush me easily by accident, and I'd be without a weapon, and this was stupid what was I doing—

I didn't mess it up. My lightly-armored weight slammed into the edge of Tank's shell, and I clung on as tightly as I could as he began to tip. His legs pedaled wildly for any kind of terrain, any way to stop himself, but it was far too late for that. He fell like an avalanche, and his shell ground the thrones to splinters as he rolled over onto his back, nearly rolling all the way over. I let go just a second too late, and slammed into the marble floor face-first, but I didn't get crushed.

As I staggered to my hooves, I felt something loose in my mouth. I spat out a few teeth, black with blood, and rasped as loudly as I could, “Fleur!”

I didn't have Red's skill with axes, and I didn't share whatever connection he had with her. But I called for her, and the wind was knocked out of me as the animated axe's grip slammed into my hooves, and my hooves were slammed into my barrel, nearly popping them out of their sockets. I staggered on my hinds as I tried to balance, so I could swing the axe down at Tank's head, while it was still exposed to finish him off—

“Stop! STOP! Time out!” Dash screamed so loud that her voice cracked, and the world seemed to pause.

What was I doing? Dash could already be speeding towards me with her spear drawn, ready to impale me like she did Gilda. I should bring the axe down and finish off the beast in front of me, so that when we fought Dash next, we'd just be fighting her. I felt Fleur twitch in my pyromancer's grasp, eager to draw blood, confused at my hesitation...but after a moment, I twisted away, and regained my balance as all four of my hooves landed on the marble, facing away from Tank. I even placed Fleur flat on the marble floor, as a sign of peace.

Dash wasn't speeding towards me; she seemed to have frozen in fear while fighting Red. Her own spear was in her hooves, but as she saw I wasn't going to kill her turtle, she placed it on the floor between them. “You c-can't—“ her voice cracked again, and she pushed her visor up, exposing her face. “Don't. Please. He's not like us; if Tank dies, he's gonna stay dead.”

Slowly, I nodded, and Dash walked towards me with a tremble in her step. I was still expecting an attack, but it never came; she barely glanced at me as she moved to Tank's head. The huge turtle had started trying to roll himself back over, but at Dash's touch, he paused. “Hey, buddy. It's gonna be okay. I'll help you up, and then...then get you out of here, okay?”

Red wasn't far behind Dash, but he stopped next to me, to pick up Fleur and return her to the loops on his back. “Get him out of here? You mean the turtle?”

“He's a tortoise, you ass.” Dash spat back, before she pressed her forehead to Tank's neck. “But yeah. I'll fight you guys all damn day, but if Tank gets hurt...The curse is different for animals. Or maybe it’s a different curse, I don’t…I don’t know.”

The giant turt—tortoise bumped his head against Dash affectionately, and she nuzzled him. “Yeah. Yeah, I know, buddy. I know you're trying to keep me safe. I can handle this myself, okay? You shouldn't be in danger, I was being dumb. I should've said something before now.”

Neither of us knew what to do. Eventually, Red coughed up a bit of blood, and I noticed he had a few stab wounds that were leaking dark ichor, and one of his forelegs seemed to have been frozen solid. Dash glanced back at us, and Red asked, “Should we...give ya a moment?”

“Yeah, yeah. Fight's off for now.” Dash waved her hoof dismissively. “You're wounded, wouldn't be a fair fight anyways. Get outta here, go patch up and take a rest.”

“A fair fight?” Red chuckled. “And two-on-one would be?”

Dash's confidence finally seemed to return to her, though she nuzzled Tank again before she turned back to us. “Nah, not really. Bring Gilda with you next time, that'll even the odds a little bit.”

Red nodded, and turned to leave. “If she's willin'.”

“Thanks.” Dash looked at me, as she said that. “For...for stopping. I still don't know who you are, not like Mac and Gilda, but...” She trailed off, then waved her hoof at me again. “Whatever. Scram.”

I nodded, and followed Red out. The fog covering the door parted as we approached, and we passed through, on our way back to Gilda. Before it closed, I glanced back one last time at Dash, and the strange dragoon was pressing her forehead against the giant tortoise still.

Maybe she wasn't as “fundamentally unreasonable” as we'd been led to believe.

Author's Note:

The song for this chapter is Radiarc - The Guardian. (I've never actually played Breath of the Wild, but the song's feeling fits the frantic nature of a fight against a larger opponent like this, and the art for the video certainly reminded me of a tortoise at a glance.)

An interesting note; I don't plan out the minutiae of the fights in any real detail beforehand. The combatants and winners are usually decided going in, but the specific details and strategies, those are all up in the air. I only realized while actively writing this chapter that ending the fight in this way would be interesting for a whole host of reasons, and it would fit the themes of the story better, of which I was reminded by Sisterhorseteeth in a conversation a few months back.

Speaking of, I always appreciate my pre-readers, Prince-Nightfire93, Citizen, SisterHorseteeth, and Non Uberis. (Even if I forgot to include the links last week, which I've since corrected.)

And of course, my links to the United Nations Relief and Works Agency and the Palestine Children's Relief Fund.

Comments

[Evilhumour]

Huh, another draw, interesting.

[Rafaman]

Tank is such an interesting foe to fight. He's got that brawn paired with intelligence, basically Smough. Also the snow crab reference, Ariandel anypony?

On the other note, out of curiosity and not that I mind, do you plan to commission art on the Hollow Pony? (fimfiction cover, story art, etc)

[Type_Writer]

11913971
I've had some ideas and written some notes, but made no serious plans. I just don't have the disposable income or favors to call in for custom art.

To share one of those notes, I think the cover art would a bit odd, anyways; basically a landscape shot of the fog-filled valleys between Ponyville and the Cloudsdale ruins, while Holly herself is such a small part of the piece that she might go unnoticed as she's passing through. It'd be appropriate to the story, where Holly is just a single wandering character in the tarnished and fallen Equestria, but it wouldn't be very eye-catching as cover art for the story.

[Non Uberis]

11914017
I don't think a bleak landscape painting would be inappropriate for cover art, hypothetically speaking. You can have a grand view of some barren environment and just a hint of a shape that represents Holly. It's striking and evokes the grandness of the setting while also emphasizing how the character is just a small part of it. Plenty of things have used similar imagery--the cover of Ico, for example.