Meta Gamer in Equestria Bonus Chapters: Archimedes's promise

by reflective vagrant

CH 7: Prelude of Hope

I rested the remainder of that day with the two capybaras keeping me company and soothing my emotional stress. With a simple ration that tasted like it had a mishmash of whatever they could throw together into a dried nutrient ball, my physical needs were met.

I rested for a list of reasons. It would be suspicious if I didn't, even if I was recovering fast from the Astral Judgement. It was like I was gaining an emotional resistance... or at least an emotional numbness to the effect. Honestly, I wondered if it had anything to do with my constant state of guilt I had been in the last seven years as much as it had to do with surviving prior Astral Judgements. But regardless the source of my emotional recovery rate, my physical body was not fairing as good. It was tougher than average despite my modest frame, but it definitely still took a sizeable hit of exhaustion that would take more than one day to recover. Even my first one didn't hit me that hard physically. Was I getting old?

But, I had tactical reasons for resting too. In short, my situation made my spell options extremely limited and I had only one wildshape use left. So I didn't want to also go out without a refill of spell slots. I wanted to optimize my chances with the rest.

When I did get up the next day, I caused a stink with the guards. Some seemed shocked I had gotten up, others were just happy that I stayed in my rest chamber when they pointed their weapons at me, shakily. I could only presume they had heard of my ability as a "heavy hitter" and were happy I was complying with the orders they were giving despite having little force to back it up on their own. I had little to fight back, at least physically for another day or two, but I didn't bother correcting them.

A little while later, after I had been leaning up against the wall to conserve strength, Diary showed up and put her arcane focus to my face, casting her tongues spell again.

"Why are you up? I'm surprised you are emotionally whole enough to even care where you are."

I gave her a pained smile and closed my eyes. "Believe it or not, I've had worse, and I think I'm getting numb to the effects. This was my third judgement, after all."

I got up and tried to walk forward, only to trip. I almost caught myself on my own, but not quite. Diary had to catch my arms and helped me get stable.

With a shamed turning of my head away from her, I continued, "I won't deny my physical body is still only just par for the course and still needing rest, though. But my mission here continues and I won't accomplish it in bed."

Having helped me stand up, Diary gave me a cold, still untrusting glare. "And what exactly, if I may ask, is that mission?"

I quipped back. "What is yours? What do you get out of this? What loyalty would you have for the resistance if you serve chaos incarnate?"

She looked at me with a strangely mad confidence, like I saw an expertly made disguise peal back for just a moment to reveal someone who has given up a piece of their sanity for their goal, but not their patience.

"His mission is to help the resistance win the war and expel the malevolent Torilian influence from Equis."

Looking behind Diary, I saw Ebony Nexus coming up to us... wearing my amulet.

"I've seen his dreams and memories. I'd trust him the same as any of you."

Diary turned around and scoffed. "Expel Torilian influence? Wouldn't that be counterproductive for him? He's Torilian himself."

Ebony Nexus lost her usual charm and gave Diary a death glare. "Actually, you are Torilian. So by your own logic, you're also being counterproductive helping us."

Diary stepped back and gave a huff. "He's genasi! Practically human! I'm Tabaxi! His kind aren't being hunted down! Given unfair treatment in some areas, maybe, but not hunted down! Mine are hunted! Entire villages had to flee to this world because they wouldn't swear loyalty to a corrupt king and are wanted dead for it. A few of my village managed to join your ranks, but the rest had to flee to a far corner of this land."

Ebony Nexus regained what I now saw as a measured loss of composure to prove a point. With an apologetic nod, she accepted Diary's explanation without complaint. "Indeed. But for the record, he is not Torilian. He is Gaian."

Diary looked at me weird while I could only shrug and reply, "Long story, but yea. I'm not from Toril."

Diary just stood there, processing that for a moment before Ebony coughed to get our attention.

"But actually, I am glad you're up. I was hoping you could help me with..." She looked down at the commandeered amulet and looked away in mild shame. "With something in the main hall."

---

The biggest part of the cave, the area big enough to work as a mess hall for the resistance, was swarming with creatures of multiple kinds. There were griffins, ponies of course and two more tabaxi in the corner largely keeping to themselves.

And of course, there were the satyrs dancing on the table like you might see a couple of "the guys" do in a bar.

"As you can see, the satyrs and faeries we saved the other day were wanting to contribute in their own way. While they refused to fight, they did manage to boost morale while they hid for their next transport out of here."

The head guard came up and added to Ebony Nexus's statement, "Though if you could convince one or two to stay to help with the fight, we would be happy to have the extra troops. My current ones can barely stand thanks to them."

He gestured to a few of the guards still on duty. They were leaning on their spears, drunk, and one was straight up passed out.

Ebony Nexus just nudged her head in the direction of the drunk guards. "I know you are limited in what you can do-" I could see she switched to English for a second by the way her lips moved "-for good reason-" then switched back, "But do you think there is still something you can do for them?"

I looked at the guards again and pondered. "Are they just drunk? Do you just need them sober?"

Ebony Nexus nodded. "Bunny Angel is out right now and I don't know exactly when he will return from his mission. That's one of the reasons the Fey are helping with morale. Bunny and the Fey don't see eye to eye and he wouldn't allow for this."

The head guard rubbed the back of his head. "Looking back, I don't think I should have authorized it either, nor did I authorize those on duty to participate. Yet somehow they got slipped some hard cider regardless."

I nodded. "It would be easiest to do this with my glove."

The two of them looked nervous. "Yea... About that."

They waved one of the tabaxi over, who looked like a proper warrior clad in what I recognized as my old leather work gear along side a few other odd bits of armor that didn't keep him from being flexible.

"Our friend here isn't as adept at magic as Diary is, but she has gotten him to understand a basic level of wizardry. We figured he would be the best candidate for your shield glove and armor but..."

Upon how he moved his arm up, I recognized the delicate grace of a warrior caster, akin to Tempest's abilities in my time but a little different in the methods. The second thing I noticed was my glove on his arm, with singe marks on it.

He flexed his paw in the way I would do with my hand to get the shield to activate, but it only flickered for a few seconds, then popped a spark and shut off.

He shook his head apologetically. "I am so sorry. I can appreciate such craftsmanship of a quality armament and found it beautiful in its function before..." He hesitated for a second. "Before it broke."

It didn't take me two seconds to realize what happened.

"You tried to cast a spell through it, didn't you?"

All three of them were silent as I took it off of him with no resistance. I looked at the innards and found the burnt areas matched the singed areas on the back of his wrist and paw. I was amazed he could fit his digits through it but he had managed. Getting a closer look, his tabaxi paw was just adjusted enough to work as a hand but some of it was hidden by fluff.

Looking back at the glove, I saw the pattern of the burns. The entire matrix spanning the length of the glove was fried.

I shook my head. "This is beyond my ability to repair, but should be an easy fix for my business partner to replace the busted part once I get back home. We actually have spares of the part made. But yea. Don't go using an artificer's stuff to cast spells. They aren't arcane focuses just because an artificer can cast through them. Artificers aren't just a type of wizard and each artificer goes about their magic differently even among themselves. Other artificers might be able to work them with some adaptations applied, but that's about it."

I was tempted to put the glove on again, but thought twice about it. If I had it on, I might try to use it out of reflex, only for the shield not to work.

I carefully pocketed the glove as I looked back at them, making sure they didn't object.

"But I can still do it the old fashioned way with normal tools. Do you have a mortar and pestle? Maybe a teaspoon of salt and some charcoal? Rust can substitute the salt in a pinch if you have enough of it, though it might ruin the mortar and pestle for other things."

With a nod, the head guard went off to what looked like the kitchen area. Though it was still the same "room" in the cave, it was separated by barrels and other items that made a counter that doubled as a barrier between the rooms.

I looked to Ebony Nexus. "We are also going to need to get them about a waterskin of water each. They are going to have a short but sharp hangover after I get it out of their system and some water will help with that."

Both of them were back shortly. I was passed the mortar and pestle while the waterskins were forced onto the guards by the head guard.

The tabaxi looked at me as I worked, gently grinding the salt and charcoal together as I came up to each guard. With a gentle blow as I called out "_Re^st_it^uo," on each guard, an energy moved down the pestle in my hand and into the salt. As the energy met the dust stirred up from the wind, a red mist came forth from the mortar and clung itself to each guard before sinking in. Shortly after that, they were suddenly a good deal more alert and very eagerly drinking from their water skins.

With the guards quickly recovering after the alcohol poisoning leaving their systems, the tabaxi shook his head. "I don't know what that magic is, but it is most definitely not wizardry. At least not any form of wizardry I would ever be able to use."

He opened up the work gear and pulled out the field kit for my quick mix potions. "I thought about trying this out, but seeing how you work your materials, I now know I won't be able to replicate it. It's better in your possession than mine."

I took the kit with a polite nod and looked at the leather gear he was still wearing longingly, even though I knew I wasn't going to get it back.

"I am sorry, but supplies are thin. I barely was allotted this armor because I was the only one it would fit and was well suited for light armor. I've been fighting for a month with nothing but my nimbleness, my shin and arm guards and, until I was given that glove, a barrel lid protecting me. I'm going to have trouble even getting the barrel lid back as a shield now that it has been turned in. I know it feels bad to be parted with your armor, but I'm not about to give it up now."

After a second to let it go, I nodded my head in understanding. "I can make another when I return home. I think you will make excellent use of it."

With a job well done, I set the mortar on an open barrel and did my best to keep hold of my field potion kit. Without it, I'd be pretty hard pressed to make any of the potions, especially on the spot.

Turning to face the mess hall, the guard was getting the satyr to calm down and stop dancing on the tables.

One of the mother satyr was chasing her children, who were quickly running up to me and Ebony Nexis.

"You're the guy that saved us from those mean, giant satyrs! Can you turn into that really really big white bear again? I want to see it!" The littlest of them called out in the sweetest little voice. If it weren't for him being a boy, I'd swear I was looking at little Hope from back home, but a year or two younger.

"Me too!" Said what seemed to be the eldest sister, a decent size older than Hope, probably her mother's assistant but still full of excitement to be childish like her two younger brothers at the moment.

"Me too too!" Said the middle brother, a little older than hope's age but clearly the rough and tumble kind of kid unlike his gentle looking brother.

"I'm so terribly sorry!" The mother called out. "They are just so-"

I cut her off with a raised hand and an understanding nod. "It's alright. I kinda have that effect on kids. I'm a novelty anywhere I go."

Turning to the kids, I shook my head. "I can't do any more shapeshifting, as my resources on that are precious and I will need to conserve my irreplaceables for my mission."

"Not even once?" The middle one asked quickly, before I could get to my second point.

I gave him a mild glare for interrupting, but continued. "I only have one left in me until I get back home. So... sadly, yes. Not even once."

Seeing that usual turn to disappointment, I timed my comeback appropriately. "But I may have something you might like."

"I must not use too much of this stuff, but with your mother's blessing, I have some potions I can mix up that can let you play with the effects."

When the mother looked at me in worry, I addressed what I suspected was her concern. "I've drank these potions myself-" I cocked my head in thought, "-From the very same batch these mixes were made in, actually. Other than the healing potion, the effects are all temporary."

Ebony Nexus leaned over and piped in. "I remember seeing those. Some of them seemed fun. Which ones are you able to spare?"

I smiled and answered. "I can spare three potions that let them give cosmetic changes to themselves. Think of it like a drinkable costume. I also think I could squeeze one of my flying potions if you'd like that instead."

The sister seemed excited at the cosmetic potion, and the youngest perked up when he heard flying.

The middle one just asked "Could I be a monster?"

I gave an uncertain face, "ehh... Sorta. There are limits. You'd still have two legs and two arms and a head, etcetera, but you can adjust how they look. Though it's purely illusion."

Shortly after, the three kids were enjoying their potions. The girl was having a heyday with her mom on how she could adjust her cosmetics should they ever settle down. It seemed to give a taste of normalcy for them again. The middle child was doing his best to startle the people, though very few were actually startled by the one foot eight goblin, or the solid red furry monster he imagined.

The youngest, however, was flying with the faeries as they played some flying game with him for the ten minutes he had. He was so eager, but had held off drinking the potion until they were able to explain the rules.

Eventually, a fairy that was quite lovely but still clearly getting on in years came up to me and bowed while levitating in mid air.

"Moss, was it? I wish to thank you for saving us."

I tried to be polite and nod, waving my hand dismissively. "It was nothing."

She came up to me and caught my hand. She had to pull hard to catch it, but she still proved to have a good deal more strength than I thought a creature her size would have.

"No. It wasn't. When we came to this land, we were slaves. I won't even try to explain the hardship we had, but suffice to say that had we not escaped, I would not have my wings anymore. I was reaching an age where they don't value us as slaves anymore and pluck our wings for their alchemic value, greatly shortening our remaining life span to only a few months."

The satyr that appeared to be the one that the bully satyr called the organizer of the escapists came up to me too.

"I saw the plan we had so carefully laid out unravel before my very eyes when the bounty hunters were sicked upon us."

He paused and turned to look at Diary, who was once again resting in a cat nap like fashion in the corner, though a smile could be seen on her face with the merriment of the festivities.

"Diary won't admit to any of this, but from what I've been able to gather, her ability as a fighter, even as a mage, is barely any stronger than the average soldier. She says she has some powerful spells for when she' fighting solo and doesn't have to worry about bystanders, but her real power comes in her utility and illusions. We had thought we could trick them, but they brought in the bounty hunters and we couldn't shake them off our trail once they got close."

The fairy went to the head of the satyr, and sat down between his horns. I could see him look up with a smile as she did so, indicating a close friendship they had gained over the years.

She then spoke up again. "As the co-leaders of our rag tag group of Fey, we would be foolish to not acknowledge that without your intervention Diary alone would not have saved any of us. She might not have even gotten out alive herself. She only managed to hide with an illusion that the tracker would have seen through if you hadn't distracted him with challenging the leader. You not only managed to free us, but delay them long enough for reinforcements to get to us in time. Diary only managed to scare them off by observing you and playing off the situation you made at the last moment with the reinforcements and our regrouped refugees. It may have only been by a few minutes, but your opportune timing changed an absolute defeat into an uncompromised victory."

The fairy started choking up, tears running down her tiny cheeks.

As his friend couldn't continue, the satyr spoke up again. "With what Diary told us of the risks through her little mouse familiar, she gave us fair warning that sacrifices would likely have to happen and that she couldn't guarantee any one Fey would make it out. We understood the risks when she flat out told us she had never managed to break out a Fey slave encampment without losing a few slaves in the process. To top that off, due to our former master's cruel tastes, we were the only group with children, as they keep the young on Toril and send the middle aged and elderly here when we start to lose value on the market. So it was going to be even harder to spring us."

The fairy had wiped away her tears enough to speak again. "We owe not only our lives, but the lives of our children to you and the efforts of the resistance."

She lowered her wings and touched her antennae.

"Oh how I've longed to find a forest and live as my ancestors did, caring for the land and tending to it, and then it protecting us in kind."

The Satyr brought up a finger, carefully bringing it to arms reach for her to lean into for comfort. "We dwarf Satyr used to live a lot like our all male brethren of larger proportions, caring only for partying, drunkardness and enjoying the finer things in life with whoever would share them. Yet after beating the taste of finer things out of our minds from the times of my grandfather, we've come to only long for a peaceful life full of purpose and family."

He brought his hand down again after she was done with it and wiped her tears on his fur. "So I think I'd like to give that life style a go too. At least until the fairies are established and good on their own without us. Then we might wander out a little again. We are a wee bit more stir crazy than our winged counterparts, so I can't speak for our descendants, but the first generation among us would be satisfied with that at the least."

The young child that had been flying had come over and started hugging the adult Satyr's leg. As the adult Satyr comforted him, I realized they were father and son. His son then listened in as he leaned on his father's leg like the sweet, calm boy he was proving to be.

The fairy shook her head and sighed. "But I suppose that's just an idle dream. Back on Toril, my ancestors could attune to the powers of nature and that is what enabled us to work with the land. But on Equis, the Animus Mundi has closed herself off from any who are not of this land. Working with the land harmoniously is impossible without her."

I momentarily cried a tear before wiping it from my face. Not from sadness of her tale, but from the giddiness of knowing I could turn her sadness around.

"That isn't true. I don't think you realized this, but that blue box outside the base you saw? It's a time machine apparently. I'm not actually from this time. I'm from the future and I can tell you this much."

I leaned in with a grin. "I've met some fey in the future, and they most definitely work with the land. If my math is right, they might even be the descendants of the very fey in this room. I have many friends that work with the land, managing it and keeping it strong, without calling upon the Animus Mundi."

I leaned back with a sigh, "It will take a lot of wisdom and hard work, but living with the land without its magic is possible. I don't know what tribulations your kind will have to face from now to then, but keep at it. It may be a bitter path with sacrifices filled with more setbacks and endeavors failing to yield results, but bittersweet hope is still hope."

The little boy was looking at my face as he listened to my words with the wonder of a child, but the adults were a good deal more skeptical.

She hugged her friend's horn and laughed. "Oh, your kind words are comforting, but please do not feed us such fantasies of hope with such a whimsical tale. With the way you speak it's almost as if you are implying the Animus Mundi of this world will take us in as her surrogate children, even letting us restore our attunement to the lands we may tend, your words are spoken with such confidence. If it were true, I'd fight to keep the small pockets of freed fey in contact with each other so that we would keep safe until we were ready to come together and risk making communities that are too big to hide away entirely but could thrive."

Ebony Nexus walked up, having listened in.

"It's not false hope. I'm a dream walker and I've seen his memories. I must keep much of it a secret, but his tale is truthful. Also, as a servant of the Animus Mundi, I can tell you now that she is simply feeling wounded and is scared of trusting again after the Torilian druids betrayed her for their own world's gain."

She looked in admiration to me, then back at them comfortingly. "I have no doubt that working hard without the magic like he said will allow her to open up to you in time. It will take years after the war is over to get her to trust any outsider again, likely decades, but she will calm down dellont. Ton crass dorib..."

It took a second, but I realized my tongues spell had worn off. I couldn't follow the words of the conversation any more, but I could see the spark of genuine, if bitter, hope start to settle in the three Fey's eyes.

Upon realizing I had ran out of time, They called Diary over to reset my tongues spell. She seemed a bit more artificial about wanting to assist, now that I had seen through her mask. But she gave no complaint. I had come to realize that her story, while true enough, wasn't the driving force behind her motives. Otherwise she'd be acting in some way other than indifferently calm.

No, this was the calmness of someone biding her time. I needed to be careful about her. I wasn't sure if she was actually friend or foe. Probably more the enemy of the resistance's enemy than anything else. She seemed to realize I was on to her, but she didn't show any sign of caring as she went back to her napping point.

"I doubt it, but the reason we came over..." The satyr piped in, cuing his friend in on their original purpose.

She smiled and nodded in kind. "Was to say that we wish to give you a token of gratitude. A way of saying we owe you a favor for what you did."

At first, I shook my head but then saw the child and was reminded of something.

"Well... This is something of a long shot, but is there a way I could call upon your descendants for that favor? I mean, I'd have to prove I'm the same guy, but if my promise of better times proves fruitful and I'm not just some random nut case spouting whimsical fantasies of the future, could you get them to honor it?"

The fairy paused for a moment, then came up off her friend's head. "I suppose if what you say does prove to be true, the story of our debt to you would be worth having my descendants keep. So possibly, but what favor would this be? I will not force my descendants to be bound to an undetermined promise."

I got embarrassed, hesitated a moment then cupped my hands to whisper it. She leaned in and turned her tiny head to hear. Upon hearing it, her eyes widened.

She looked at me and almost coldly said, "You did something to anger them in your time, didn't you?"

I looked down in shame and nodded meekly. "Not on purpose."

She looked at me sternly for a moment, then spoke with her friend in whispers as well. After a moment of discussion, they were both satisfied. "Very well, with the way you worded it, I believe we can arrange that. We just need a way to confirm it is you when the time comes."

I scratched the back of my head. "How? Should there be a phrase or a password or something?"

She shook her head in response. "No. The message would be altered too much down the generations by the time we got to your time. There are too many language barriers to make a key phrase that would be reliable in identifying you and not degrade as our language evolves. We could keep the conditions of the promise intact in story as our language changes, but that's about it."

I wanted to correct her, but I figured I should hold off on the whole long lifespan through the Animus Mundi thing, and let them figure that one out on their own when it happened.

I looked down and closed my eyes. "Most any token I could give you would age beyond recognition by the time we got back together again too. So what else could we do?"

She perked up, "Actually, a token is exactly what I was thinking. If you could get us something unique to you, that you could prove was yours, we could preserve it. We do have some magic of our own without an Animus Mundi helping us. Protecting the integrity of ancient heirlooms was a common thing fairy slaves were kept for. With the ease of this duty verses our other chores, it was actually a coveted position among fairy slaves. We likely would keep other items preserved for different reasons as the generations pass as well. It would not be difficult for us to keep a single token preserved."

I thought hard for a moment, going over my inventory. Thinking of stuff I needed and couldn't give up, I found very little unique to me. But remembering the glove was burnt out, I laughed.

"I think I have something. I was a little bummed that my shield glove was broken, but now I think we can use it as the token."

I fetched it out. "I can't repair it in this time, as I don't have the supplies or tools, but I could do so very easily in the future. I have spares of the part that was destroyed in my workshop."

I slipped on the glove and tried to activate it one last time, getting an even briefer manifestation of the shield out before it popped and shut off again.

"It's supposed to keep the shield you saw out and running, but the part is busted."

I pulled it off again and conjured a simple tool with, "_Pr^es_to," a few times as the short conjuration spell faded over and over. While I had them, I steadily opened up the seams of the glove, exposing the matrix underneath that ran all across the glove from fingers to a few inches below the wrist. "This is the part I need to replace. This one is busted but the core pattern is still there. If someone comes with the replacement part that matches this part, it's either me or someone speaking for me."

She looked at the part, then at me. She simply took the glove and bowed. "I believe that will work. It may even act as a symbol of this hope you gave us. Show us your replacement part and we will, if not forgive, reverse the punishment of one crime on the condition that no permanent harm to a Fey is done in the crime."

The satyr spat in his hand and offered it to me. I motioned to spit in my own hand, making sure that was what was needed, then put my hand to his, nearly engulfing the tiny hand in my own. The fairy in turn came down, set the glove on top and placed her own hands on it, keeping up with the motion of the satyr as he shook it and declared, "The promise is made."

Comments

[Golden_Reflection]

I rested the remainder of that day with the two capybaras keeping me company and soothing my emotional stress. With a simple ration that tasted like it had a miss mash of whatever they could throw together into a dried nutrient ball, my physical needs were met.

It is "mishmash", not "miss mash".

[Golden_Reflection]

Getting yourself a future pardon from (I assume) saying Hallelujah while under the effects of "literal translation spell" which you said off the cuff and with no knowledge of how it would be taken. Quite the promise you got yourself there, Moss.

Unless the crime was the whole "Fey don't like Quintessence" thing, or something else I forgot. Still a good promise, but it means I just forgot what you're getting the pardon from.