Freedom Through Harmony

by Electricut

Chapter Fifty-two

My pitiful and one-time attempt at writing something scary. Whee.

Chapter Fifty-two
Northern Fields
Phil

The mix-matched duo, rogue black mage and deserter apprentice, sat side by side on an overturned tree trunk, gazing up at the stars. Since both had considerable control over fire magic, neither felt a very pressing need to get a fire going. A pile of firewood was gathered before them, but neither was very motivated to light it.

“...That could have gone better.” Trixie said, breaking the silence. Phil nodded glumly. The pair had been quite successful in the town of Firefly, and had managed to establish an independent resistance faction there. The small town they had visited first didn’t have enough people willing to fight to stand alone, but the fighters had agreed to follow them to join in with Firefly’s forces.

With boosted morale, Phil and Trixie switched back somewhat- heading further north but back eastward- towards Trottingham. The local noble house wanted nothing to do with any resistance, however. Hard as the Moonlight missionaries had tried, they could do nothing to convince the lord governing the city to join their cause, and they left as outcasts. While they had encountered a few sympathizers to their cause, they were forced to leave them and come up with a better plan.

“You know, the port town of Emberton is only a day or so’s trip from here.” Phil commented. The pair had set up a very basic camp in the Northern Fields, a largely unused swatch of land in the northeast region of Equestria. From there, they could easily make the trek to anywhere in the northern areas of the kingdom, and they had set in to discuss where they should go next.

“I noticed.” Trixie said, nodding thoughtfully. “That’s the town House Leo governs over. I wonder if we could get some points by mentioning Rarity to the right people...”

“Probably.” Phil answered, yawning. Moping over their losses wouldn’t solve anything, he decided, and they had to keep looking forward. “Besides, I think Leo did go ahead and reforge that alliance with Trottingham’s house. If we ally ourselves with them, we might be able to go back and get more support.”

“Right. Sounds like a plan.” Trixie said, with renewed energy. She reached out with her broomstick staff, generating a lazy spark and lighting the campfire. The pair were soon surrounded by the warm light of the fire, and a pot of coffee was set over the flame to boil. The camp was already pitched, as it only consisted of a tarp thrown over their packs, and two sleeping cloths unrolled on either side of the fire.

As the two began to unwind, recovered from the rejection they had received in Trottingham and preparing for a new task ahead of them, sleepiness began to set in. Night had already fallen, and the stars glittered overhead unobstructed.

A twig snapped behind them. It was almost drowned out by the crackling of the fire, but it definitely came from behind. Phil tensed slightly, unsure of whether to call it a threat. He turned to Trixie slowly, and was met with a terse nod. She had heard it too. Gripping her staff tighter, but not making any other indication of suspecting anything, she gazed intently into the fire.

If there’s someone there, Trixie wants to keep some element of surprise on them. Phil reasoned. We can’t let them know we heard them. He remained as he was as well, but folded his arms as though shivering. In reality, he was beyond the point of noticing the cold. Within his jacket, he fingered at the hilt of a knife hidden from sight.

Another noise sounded slightly to the side, but still behind their line of sight. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway: while the stars were bright and the skies clear, a hazy mist shrouded the fields, obscuring sight on the ground. Someone could get within feet of the fire without being noticed. Keeping this in mind, the pair stood slowly and spun around as one, expecting to see... something. Someone. Anything out of the ordinary.

They saw nothing. The fog rolled past lazily, and there was no-one before them. Even an animal of some kind would have been a relief to see, to answer the snapping twigs, but there wasn’t so much as a squirrel to speak of. Squinting through the haze, Trixie swung her staff out experimentally, a bright flame lit upon its tip. It served as a great torch, cutting through the fog like a knife through butter, but gave no answer. Whatever had been there, no longer was.

Phil’s heart was moving faster than his mind, but his mind was telling him not to worry. He had always been a logical, down to earth person, and he knew it was probably just a small animal that got spooked and ran away when they turned. As much as it seemed like someone was sneaking up on them, he knew it was highly unlikely.

Beside him, Trixie seemed to be trying to rationalize the situation as well, but he wasn’t sure how well she was doing. She, on the other hand, had been under the care of the slightly deranged Xekora for far longer than Phil had, and had seen things that seemed utterly impossible at the time. Many still made no sense. She was a warrior at heart, and had learned not to rule out any possibilities or impossibilities in a dangerous situation. Instead of letting herself slip into panic, she was bracing herself for whatever fight was about to approach.

Phil turned his head to look for confirmation of something- anything- from Trixie, but she remained with her eyes locked in one direction, trying to pick out movement in the fog. He turned his gaze back as well, and tried to find something to focus on.

A sharp, quick hiss was heard behind them, followed by silence and darkness. Phil spun around frantically, and saw that someone had killed the fire, but could still see no-one else in the area. He stepped forward, ever so cautiously, and crouched next to the scorched firewood, and saw that a thin layer of frost had already set onto the branches. It’s cold out, but not nearly that cold. Something froze the fire... He backed away slowly, and nearly ran into Trixie. The flame on the end of her staff was the only thing to light the darkness encroaching around them.

“Watch yourself, kid.” She whispered quickly. “I don’t know what’s out there, but we need to be on guard. Get out whatever weapons you’ve got, and stay close. And calm down, you won’t do any good if you’re freaking out on me.” Phil nodded quickly, calmed his breathing as best he could, and drew the knife from his jacket. It had a fairly large blade and a sturdy leather handle, and he felt fairly confident in his ability to use it. Still, if it came to that close a range, he’d be better off with a fire punch. His best chance would be to spot the assailant from as far a distance as the fog would allow, and hit them with long-range magic.

Phil lit a small controlled flame in his right palm, keeping the knife balanced in his left. It’s times like these I’m really glad I’m ambidextrous... He thought. He cast a cautious hand out before him, hoping to catch something in the dull light, but with expected lack of results. The two moved slowly around their campsite, back to back, hoping to catch the assailant off guard and give away their position.

Something shot past their heads, too fast to make out clearly. Phil nearly jumped, but just barely kept it together. Whatever it was, it had been small and fast. Another whizzed past a bit further away, from a completely different direction, then another from a third direction.

“Show yourself!” Trixie barked, but Phil could tell she was acting stronger than she felt. As dissimilar as she and her sister were, there were some things that stayed the same through and through. “They’re attacking now. Get ready, kid, they’re going to come at us pretty soon... Ah!”

Her train of thought was cut off abruptly, as was her flame. Spinning around, Phil could just make out a third figure in front of Trixie, and saw that a few vestiges of ice still clung to the end of her staff. He saw the silver blade of a large sword swing in from the darkness, clanging noisily against Trixie’s broomstick weapon, the metaling sound filling the silent air menacingly.

Trixie shoved the metal pole forward roughly, the blade of the assailant pulling back quickly. Trixie cursed as she tried to light a fresh flame, the ice remaining and negating any fire magic. The sword came back around from the right, and Trixie had just enough time to pull the staff around and block. A fire spell lit up at the other end of the pole, and for a moment Phil could see a tattered brown cloth where the darkened figure’s feet might have been.

The fire froze as soon as it had come on, and the two were left in near-darkness again. Phil looked to his hand, still channelling a flame that gave the only remaining illumination in the field, and the thought crossed his mind that he should put it out quickly. As much as he desperately wanted to be able to see, it made him a huge target.

The assailant had similar thoughts in mind, it seemed, because the next ice blast came right for him. Phil raised his hands to block, and the flame was extinguished sharply. With mounting horror, Phil realized that the attack had done more than put out the flame: his entire light-hand was encased in ice, too thick for him to retain any movement in his hand. Even worse, the frigid prison seemed to be slowly, painfully crawling further up his arm.

Phil began to panic, but came to his senses quickly enough. Generating another fire spell, he saw the ice begin to satisfyingly steam and sizzle. I can melt myself out easily enough, looks like. He kept the spell going idly, the ice dripping to the ground, and turned his attention to the pale form of Trixie. She was still battling with this mysterious ice mage, the sounds of steel meeting steel breaking the eerie silence of the night.

Trixie spun the broomstick staff expertly around her shoulder, blocking another heavy hit from the large steel blade. It struck like a snake, darting out of the cloudy darkness to attack, and retracting before it could be pinned down. The assailant itself had yet to be seen clearly, and remained a shade in the haze. But as long as Trixie could pick out the slightly darker swaths of fog, she could tell where her opponent was and fight back, or at least protect herself.

The fact remained that whoever this was, the assailant was a well trained and confident fighter, and had startling control over ice magic. Ice was an outcast type of sorts in magic: any Equestrian was physically able to learn its ways- even Children of Earth- but it was notoriously difficult to pick up, let alone master. There wasn’t a doubt in Phil’s mind that his and Trixie’s assailant was a master of the craft.

His hand flexed stiffly, freed from its icy prison at last. He readied himself to light another fire spell, but didn’t just yet. He needed to wait until just the right moment. The knife in his hand was in a death grip, cold sweat covering the leather handle. Phil was scared to death of this shadowy killer, but he was somewhat relieved by the fact that whoever it was- whatever it was- it was working alone.

Trixie was wearing down, but adrenaline wouldn’t allow her to rest. Gritting her teeth, she lunged forward with her staff, but met only air. Cursing in anger and fear, she made a move to pull the weapon back, but met resistance. With mounting horror, both realized that the assailant had a grip on the other end of the weapon. Trixie gave one final yank on the pole, and the shadowy figure could be seen- painfully slowly- sailing towards the black mage, sword arm cocked back menacingly.

Like an angel of death, a huge pair of wings erupted from the shade’s back, obscuring Phil’s view of what was going on, but the sounds were enough to send him over the edge. First came the sound of the blade swinging down, then a cry of pain from his friend. A sharp crack, the sound of ice hardening, followed, then the process repeated. Phil was ready to run for his life, to scream and run as far from there as he could get and never look back, but he knew he couldn’t leave Trixie to die.

The assailant jumped back, flapping its wings once, and utterly disappeared from view. Catching his racing breath, Phil nearly tripped over himself running to Trixie’s aid. To his relief, she was alive, but his sense of calm didn’t last. Both of Trixie’s arms were frozen solid, along with most of her upper body. She fought to keep her chin up above the sharp, icy thorns encroaching on her head, and while her mouth was twisted in an enraged grimace, Phil could see her eyes were alive with panic in the dim starlight.

“Phil, get out of here!” She ordered. “We can’t kill this thing! I’ll be alright, but you need to run for it! It’s going to come after you next!”

Phil stood quickly, barely able to stand still, but he remained by Trixie’s side. She was silent, and Phil chose to believe it was because she could tell he was trying to pinpoint any telltale noises of the assailant approaching. He didn’t dare look down and risk seeing the alternative: that the ice had already frozen over her mouth. Either way, the fields had lapsed back into silence.

He closed his eyes, every instinct and nerve in his body screaming against it. He knew that with his eyes closed, his other senses would be bolstered somewhat, and he needed hearing far more than he did sight. As it stood, he could barely see an inch in front of his face anyway, and every anomaly in the fog could have been the assailant. No, the night was perfectly silent, and when he heard something off instead of seeing it, it could only be the mysterious shade.

Then he heard it. Another twig snapping. No... it seemed to him that the assailant had stepped on the campfire. The sound was much louder than before. Supercharged on adrenaline, Phil spun around towards the dead fire, lighting and throwing the knife in one move. The small blade sailed through the air, slicing the darkness and fog around it, until it stopped short with a sickening thump.

It wasn’t so sickening to Phil when he heard a gasp of pain follow suite. The knife had found its mark, and had hit the assailant. He couldn’t tell anything about them by the sound of the gasp- it could have come from anyone- but it felt pain. It wasn’t something supernatural, and could even be another human. As comforting as this was, Phil still knew this human was armed and extremely dangerous, and was trying to kill him and Trixie.

Considering this, Phil didn’t allow the assailant to slink back into the shadows to lick its wounds and come back at him. Lighting up both fists with a potent flame, shaking with fear and anger, he unfurled his own wings and dove at the shadow. He launched both flames towards it, and for the first time caught a glimpse of what he was dealing with. The figure was draped in a tattered brown cloak, the hood over the eyes, a pale mouth frowning slightly just before the flames hit.

They both slammed into the assailant’s chest, and another gasp escaped as it was launched backward. The shadowy figure wasn’t expecting such resistance, and was taken off guard, but recovered quickly. It dove back into the shadows, cloak smoldering, the smoke blending with the fog around them. Phil corkscrewed after the assailant, but it had already changed directions in the haze and had become lost once again.

Phil waited for the longest time, breath held, sure he could finish the assailant if it came back for him, but all was in silence. His confidence began to wane, fear setting back in again. He pushed the thoughts out of his head quickly. He was on the winning side now, and had to keep it together.

He stood stock still where he was, palms open at his sides, ready to burst into flames at a moment’s notice. He could see nothing, hear nothing, but he could still feel the eyes of his assailant on him, watching. He was just beginning to think he should go back and try to thaw out Trixie, as she was probably fading fast, but a horrible sense of dread kept him where he was. Behind him, he could feel the air chill, a few flecks of frost forming on the back of his neck, and he heard a tiny whisper of a noise that he never would have caught if he wasn’t so pumped with adrenaline.

Fear gripping his system, he almost didn’t react in time, but he was able to spin around just as the steel blade shot forward, impaling the air he only just inhabited. Following through, he grabbed the blade with his gloved hands and pulled forward. He pulled one hand back, lighting it with the strongest magic he had ever attempted: a single-handed Arcfire. Screaming a bloody battle cry, he shot forward and slammed his palm into the chest of the brown-cloaked assailant, sending it sailing backwards. A short, pained cry escaped its lips, before it collapsed to the ground.

It was still in action though, and Phil was too far gone with rage and blood-freezing fear to stop now. All his thoughts had long since slowed down, and he was running on sheer bloody-minded survival instinct. He ran towards the assailant, grabbing Trixie’s discarded broomstick staff on the way, and brought the weapon down on the shade’s head, hard. It fell to the ground, unconscious but alive. The hood fell back on the way down, and Phil realized that it was a woman, with pale blue hair and light colored feathered wings.

Whatever this meant, Phil didn’t have time to analyze. He retrieved the knife from where she had discarded it, jammed it through some of the loose cloth of the cloak and through the hard packed dirt below, then rushed over to Trixie’s aid.