The Trials of Shmarity: an Ogres and Oubliettes Story

by TheMessenger

7. Storm King’s Thunder

7. Storm King’s Thunder

It didn’t take long before Farm Right’s house was no longer in view. As they continued on and started to approach the fields of grain stalks, the collection of cottages that made up the village became smaller. Elder Woods instructed Rarity on the gear she had been provided with as they walked, with the mare just ahead of them jumping in every so often to correct the elderly, blind zebra on which pocket a piece of equipment was specifically located. There was a tinderbox, a simple sewing kit consisting of some string, a few squares of canvas, and a wooden needle, rope made of hemp and straw, a canteen already filled with a day’s worth of water, a lodestone to serve as a compass, a small mix of dried berries, mushrooms, and nuts, a purse of a few copper coins, a rudimentary first aid kit made up of a roll of bandages, some salves, and a few vials of some reddish liquid, a small knife, and of course, a crude hoof-drawn map of the area, consisting of triangles for mountains, dots with names scribbled next to them for settlements, and wavy lines for streams and rivers.

“Huntress,” Woods called out. “I require your aid. Show her the path we have made.”

Huntress waited for Rarity and Elder Woods to catch up, then removed the map from Rarity’s saddlebags. “Alright, pay attention,” she commanded. “Your destination is Baldursgait right here.” Rarity followed her hoof toward the dot labeled “Baldursgait” on the map. A thick line descended down from the dot that eventually broke off into an angle. “All you need to is find your way to the main road.” The hoof pointed to the line. “There’ll be several towns along the road, so it shouldn’t be hard to follow.”

“And where are we?” Rarity asked.

“Somewhere around here.” Huntress lazily waved her hoof at a largely blank space on the map before folding the parchment and stuffing it back inside the saddlebag. “You don’t need to know where exactly. Better if you didn’t.”

“Excuse me? How am I supposed to get to this road without knowing where am I to begin with?” protested Rarity. “Or am I just supposed to wander westward until I hit civilization?”

Elder Woods placed his one remaining front hoof on Rarity’s shoulder as Huntress rolled her eyes. “Do understand, I cannot allow my village’s location known, not while the Squid Wizard’s influence is still so overgrown.”

Rarity frowned. It was a reasonable precaution, keeping the village’s position unmarked and hidden, it just would’ve been nice if their safety hadn’t been at her expense.

“Not to worry, my dear daughter will act as your guide.” He nodded toward Huntress. “She will not leave you until you’ve reached roadside. A better guide you could not ask. I assure you, on all I deem of worth, she is more than up to this task.”

So that was their relation. Rarity turned to Huntress who was hiding her prideful beam in reaction to Elder Woods’s endorsement rather poorly. The color of their coats were somewhat similar, both of them being shades of gray, but Huntress’s lack of distinctive stripes made all the difference; if she hadn’t heard Woods, Rarity doubted she’d have guessed that the two were related.

Huntress‘s expression hardened and became an icy glare as she came to notice the other mare’s stares. “What?”

“Nothing. Nothing.” Rarity looked to Elder Woods instead. “And you?” she asked. “Will you be traveling with us as well?”

There was something hopeful, even desperate, in her voice. Rarity had no reason to doubt Huntress’s abilities, that wasn’t the issue, it was just the matter of having to deal with the sour, ill-tempered mare alone over the course of what could potentially be a very long journey. Her heart sank as Elder Woods shook his head.

“I am needed here, as our village’s head. To leave so suddenly, for so long, I fear of the chaos that would spread,” he said, turning back to the village behind. A breeze blew by, and he sniffed at the air. The old zebra stiffened as Rarity also looked back and saw that out in the distance, ponies were starting to make their way out into the fields to work. “You should leave soon, but before you go, I have one last gift to bestow.”

Elder Woods held out something in his hoof, about the size and length of his forelimb. Most of the presented item was covered in linens, similar to the wrappings around the zebra’s eyes. “Careful, careful,” he warned as Rarity took the gift. She slowly unraveled the linen, starting from the end that the object was presented toward her, and revealed a polished wooden handle. The images of wolves and of eagles decorated the wood between indecipherable runes that seemed to shimmer in what little sunlight was available.

Huntress’s jaw dropped at the sight of the wooden hilt. “Father, you can’t—“

Elder Woods hushed the scarred mare as Rarity continued removing the wrappings. The last strips fell away from a shiny black blade extending out of the decorated wood. A piece of twine was wrapped tightly around the area where the wood handle transitioned to the black blade. More runes she couldn’t read ran down its length, flashing silver against a backdrop of black when brought into the light. There was something odd about the blade itself, something beyond the runes and the color. Something about its weight, about its uneven textures.

The blade wasn’t made of a traditional metal, Rarity quickly realized, but of some kind of stone. Obsidian she concluded upon further examination, a material she had experimented with but never found much use for, not when onyx or black jaspers could be used for the same effect while also being both more readily available and easier to utilize. The concept of using such brittle material for a dagger’s blade puzzled her. Why not steel or iron, like the weapons of the Squid Wizard’s guards or even the knife she had been provided with? Even Hearth Stead’s kitchen utensils were metallic.

Whatever the reasoning was behind the construction of this dagger, there was clearly some importance behind it, if the look of shock Huntress was shooting at Elder Woods were any indication.

“The path you walk is dangerous, keep that close,” Woods said, stepping back. “May the earth guide you through everything life throws.”

Rarity rewrapped the dagger and carefully placed it in the saddlebag pocket closer to her. The gift, in all honesty, made her feel less safe. In all her adventures, Rarity had never had to wield any sort of weapon, and the closest she ever got to even touching a dagger were kitchen knives and garden trowels. Always, her own wit and magic and her friends were enough, even when violence broke out. Well, two of those problem solving options weren’t available to her, and as special as the dagger may have been, she didn’t think it was going to be an adequate replacement.

“Thank you,” Rarity said, lowering her head in respect. She kept her misgivings to herself. “Perhaps, when your village is no longer threatened by my being there, we can see each other again.”

At this, Elder Woods cracked a small smile. “If that day comes, it would be an honor to have you back.” He returned the gesture, then turned Huntress. “Get going. And don’t worry about going through the forest.” The old zebra craned his neck upwards toward the clouds. “I’ll be sure to cover your tracks.”

Huntress looked up as well and frowned. With a sigh, she said, “Very well. I’ll should be back in a few days. Until then, take care.”

“And you as well,” replied the elderly zebra. He pressed his lips to the mare’s forehead. “Take care.”

For a moment, Huntress was still, then she turned to Rarity and motioned her head forward, in the direction they had been walking. “Let’s go.”

And with that curt command, Huntress continued on the rough dirt path, not bothering to wait for Rarity’s response. Rarity gave Elder Woods one final word of thanks before rushing after her impatient guide, following her down the trail that led between the farm fields. Huntress’s early start and hurried gait forced Rarity to quicken her own pace to a trot, and even then she still always a few steps behind.

“Is there any reason why we’re in such a hurry?” Rarity eventually asked.

“Tired already?” Huntress asked without missing a step. There was no mocking or teasing in the inquiry nor any sign of genuine concern, and Rarity wasn’t sure whether she would preferred this utter disinterest over being derided.

“Hardly,” Rarity said with a sniff. Appearances could be misleading, and though she carried herself with the daintiness of a proper lady, she was no stranger to physical exertion. As it so happened, being a member of Princess Twilight Sparkle’s personal circle of friends meant having plenty of opportunities to stretch those legs and run about. “You just seem awfully eager is all.”

Huntress grunted, and for a moment Rarity thought that was the end of that discussion before the mare continued by saying, “I want to get to the edge of the Bitwoods before we get caught in the rain.”

“Rain?” Rarity looked up into the sky. There were indeed clouds, many which seemed to be moving on their own oddly enough, but most of them were small and none were very dark. She couldn’t recall seeing any pegasi in the village, only earth ponies, but perhaps weather maintenance here was outsourced. But even if that was the case, Rarity would have still expected to see pegasi flying about, pushing clouds together and making their preparations, especially if Huntress was in such a rush to get to shelter. “Are you certain?”

Huntress suddenly slowed down. She turned back towards the village in the distance, now just some smoke trailing from the unseen chimneys, giving Rarity the opportunity to finally reach her side, and frowned. “So he insists,” she muttered with a shake of her head.

“I’m sorry?”

“Be grateful instead.” Huntress returned her attention back to the front. The dirt trail was gone, overtaken by grass as they stood before a vast empty prairie. A thick gathering of trees sat some distance away. “Elder Woods has done a lot for you, some would even say he’s gone too far. He seems to think you’re special.”

“And what about you? What do you think?”

Was confrontation wise? It was clear from her attitude that Huntress didn’t hold Rarity in high regard. Who knew how Huntress would react now that she was offered the chance to vent, but at least then, her opinions would be out and aired instead of being silently bottled up inside. It was even possible that after opening up and presenting her grievances, Huntress would become more approachable. Becoming friends with the mare was optimistic, but one didn’t spend all that time with the Princess of Friendship without becoming a bit of an idealist.

All Huntress had to offer in reply, however, was a noncommittal grunt. Instead of elaborating, she reached into the folds of her own cloak and pulled out her own sheathed dagger. Both hilt and scabbard were plain, completely without decoration, and unlike the weapon Elder Woods had gifted Rarity, there was a cross-guard running perpendicular through the handle.

“Here,” she said, holding the dagger out toward Rarity. At least she had the decency to present it handle first. “Give me the one Elder Woods gave you. I’m not sure what he was thinking, you’d just hurt yourself when you try to use it.”

Part of Rarity protested at the suggestion, a rather childish part that kicked and screamed at the very possibility of having something of theirs being taken away. It was hers, Elder Woods gave it too her! Huntress was just jealous it went to Rarity instead of her, and now she want to offer such a dull alternative as a trade? That part of Rarity roared out angrily.

It was a very small part of her, and the roar was more of a kitten’s mewl than the proper growl of a beast that was quickly drowned out as the rest of Rarity presented their arguments in swift succession. Elder Woods’s dagger had felt heavy in her hooves, and it still worried her that the sharp point parts were made of such an easily breakable material. And then there was Rarity’s utter lack of experience. Huntress was right, Elder Woods’s gift was as much, no, more of a danger to Rarity than to any aggressor she’d have to defend herself against.

She took great care in retrieving the dagger from the saddlebags. When it was out and presented to Huntress, the mare seemed to hesitate despite this trade being her idea, if only for a couple of seconds. Once it was safely secured in her grasp, Huntress unwrapped the handle of the obsidian dagger and stuffed it under her cloak as Rarity took the time to examine her new dagger. She slide it out of the scabbard.

When it came to the art of metalworking, Rarity knew very little, and her ability to appraise martial implements may have been even less than that. What exactly could she say? The sharp and pointy end was sharp and pointy, and the handle fit comfortably in her hoof. It certainly felt more balanced than the dagger Elder Woods had given her. Both edges of the blade were sharp, Rarity noted, and if the old adage about swords and dual edges was applicable in this case, she’d need to take extra care when putting the weapon to use.

It disturbed her that she had said ‘when’ in her thoughts, not “if,’ as if she believed that a scenario where she would have to wield such a weapon was inevitable. With that worrisome thought in mind, Rarity started to place her new dagger back into her bags, but Huntress stopped her.

“There’s a pocket in your cloak,” she said. “Keep it there.”

It was less of a suggestion and more of a command. Rarity found the pocket and slipped the sheathed dagger into the cloak. It pressed uncomfortably against her body, constantly reminding her of its presence.

As she readjusted her cloak and her saddlebags, a low rumble shook the skies above. Rarity looked up and watched the clouds congregate and darken, and yet there wasn’t a single pegasus pony up there with them. Another wave of thunder rolled by, and the bottoms of the clouds flashed brightly. Huntress clicked her tongue in annoyance.

“We’ve wasted too much time,” she said. “Pick up the pace.”

Rarity broke into a trot after Huntress who again took off without bothering to wait. The trot gradually became a run as the two hurried through the grasslands. Raindrops started to fall, and the winds began to pick up in strength. The droplets grew in size and in number, and the winds threw them into Rarity’s face with a force that stung her cheeks. Several steps ahead of her, Huntress had somehow managed to throw the hood of her cloak over her head without slowing down, a feat Rarity wasn’t sure she wanted to attempt, not if it meant potentially having to spend more time in this growing storm.

The trees were getting larger as they got closer. At last, just as the downpour began in earnest, the two mares reached the edge of the forest and tried to hide under the leafy canopy. The cover here was relatively thin, simply reducing the amount of rain hitting them rather than blocking the precipitation completely.

“Are we not going further?” Rarity asked when Huntress found spot under one of the nearby trees to rest. “Surely there’s more shelter deeper in the forest where there are larger trees.”

“Best not go too deep inside if you don’t have to,” Huntress answered, shaking her head. “Bitwood might not be the biggest or most dangerous forest in Spiketopia, especially since those heroes took care of the werewolf problem awhile back, but you can still get lost pretty easily if you’re not careful, and the regular wolves and bears can still put up a heck of a fight. Also, here I can watch the storm. I’ll need to know it stops raining.”

Rarity followed Huntress’s gaze out into the open prairie. Their current position did give them a good view of the rainstorm, and though the thicker canopy of the forest’s interior would’ve provide more cover, it would have also prevented them from seeing the sky and the storm’s progression. She couldn’t disagree with the rest of rationale behind Huntress’s decision either, her own personal experiences with the Everfree Forest speaking out in favor for it.

But as much as Rarity understood the logic, she could not bring herself to like it. Her mane was already messy, and now it was soaking wet, and any semblance to her signature coiffure was gone. Every time part of it brushed against her neck whether from a stray breeze or from just moving her head, she shivered as it left behind a cold, damp spot, and without the proper tools, none of which were in her saddlebags, an unfortunate lapse in foresight on Elder Woods’s part, Rarity had no way to control her mane’s appearance when it dried. She shuddered at the imagined monstrosities her pride and joy would become once the sun came out.

At least the cloak did its job. Whatever material it was made of seemed somewhat waterproof and kept most of her body dry and insulated, providing her a degree of protection from both rain and wind.

Rarity took a seat in the driest spot she could find. The howls of the wind and the roars of thunder were getting louder. She flinched as the world went white for a moment, and thunder rolled in seconds later. “Make yourself comfortable,” Huntress said. Her bow was in her hooves and now strung, and every now and again, she would look away from the storm and pull at the string, testing its elasticity and wiping away any moisture. “Could be up to an hour before it lets up.”

“Are sudden storms like this common?” asked Rarity.

“No,” Huntress said. “Elder Woods doesn’t tend to abuse his druidic abilities like this, and even when he does it’s for an emergency.” She snorted. “Like I said, he seems to think you’re special.”

It took Rarity a little time to apprehend Huntress’s words and a little longer to fully grasp the implication. “Are you saying this is his doing?” she exclaimed, pointing to the storm above. “How?”

Huntress shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you the specifics, but I know it isn’t done easily, not for him.“

Not done easily? Rarity felt that Huntress was downplaying the difficult of such a task. Weather maintenance was a delicate job that required the deftest touch and the keenest eye, which is why it was normally left to pegasus ponies who were already accustomed with working in the sky and with clouds. Even unicorns with all their magic were limited in weather manipulation beyond small patches of sky, and more often than not such attempts ended in disaster.

Was this an ability exclusive to zebras? The only zebra she could claim familiarity with was Zecora, and she had never her demonstrate any sign of such powers. Then again, even after all these years, the striped hermit was still largely a mystery to her, sharing little of her past and of her homeland and culture. Perhaps there was more to her than just somepony to visit when in need of a curative.

“The storm will cover up any tracks we might have left behind,” Huntress continued. “If it weren’t for that, we’d have to go through the forest a couple of times to throw off any pursuers.”

“Is that really such an issue?” Rarity questioned.

“If you told us the truth, and Elder Woods believes you, then you just escaped from the Squid Wizard’s stronghold. Princess Shmarity or not, he’ll want you back and fast, and he has the resources to make that happen.” Huntress looked away from the storm and turned to Rarity. “It’s why we needed you to leave as soon as possible.”

“I see.”

“Hm.” Huntress turn her attention to her bow. “You’ve heard enough apologizes. I won’t bother adding mine.”

It took Rarity a couple of moments to unravel the meaning behind Huntress’s rudeness. It was quite the roundabout way of saying she was at least a little sorry, but with the impression the stubborn grump of a mare left her, Rarity couldn’t think of a more fitting way of her saying so.

“Thank you?” she offered. Huntress simply brushed her off with a grunt. She provided no additional words, and Rarity lost any desire to urge more out of of her. She couldn’t think of any relevant conversation starters anyways, and discussing the weather further felt like a moot point. If it weren’t for the voices of the storm, the howls of the wind, the pitter-patter of the rain, the crashes of thunder, they would have sat there in silence.

Without any other stimulating means, Rarity let her mind wander. She marveled at the storm and the mysterious power behind it. She wondered how Farm Right and his family were doing, how they were coping with the storm. She hoped they managed to find Harvest before the rain started to fall. Knowing that the storm had been been for her benefit, Rarity hoped the sudden change in weather hadn’t caused too much of an interruption to the village’s routine.

Her legs were starting to grow restless. As Rarity shifted in the grass into a more comfortable position, the dagger in her pocket dug into her chest, forcing her to adjust her cloak. Her hoof brushed against something cold, and she looked down to find that the silver symbol of the Fey had slipped out. She quickly shoved back into her cloak and glanced over to Huntress who had her attention drawn to the stormy sky once more.

Would she recognize the symbol, Rarity wondered. Perhaps Huntress knew something about the being calling themselves the Queen of Fey, maybe even confirming what her supposed benefactor had said or elaborating on the information she had been provided, like what exactly was in the south. Elder Woods may have been more knowledgeable on the subject, and Rarity regretted not asking him when she had the chance.

And then there were the questions about her current journey. What kind of city was Baldursgait? Was the road there well traveled, and should she expect to meet other travelers? Were there any specific settlements along the way she should visit? Avoid?

“Alright,” Huntress suddenly announced, interrupting Rarity’s thoughts. She stood up. “Time to go.”

Rarity looked up, and to her surprise, the skies were beginning to clear. The dark storm clouds were dispersing as the winds quieted and lost strength. The downpour was now only a little more than a drizzle. She could even see a bit of sun. How long had Rarity sat there, lost in her thoughts?

“Something wrong?”

“No,” Rarity finally said. She got up as well and brushed off the loose grass and dirt. “Was that really an hour?”

“Just about,” Huntress said. “Maybe a couple minutes less. It can be easy to lose track of time if you’re not careful. You need to pay more attention.”

To a mare that prided herself for her attentiveness, Huntress’s advice stung more than Rarity cared to admit. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Rarity said steadily.

Huntress just nodded before turning away and marching onward. Rarity followed after her with her head full of questions. Hopefully, her guide wasn’t expecting the rest of their journey to continue in silence.