The Terra Affirmation

by Silver Eyes

Chapter 5 The half full cup

There was little known about Rising Dawn. What little she told her son was fragmented details that made up her past, meant to distract and mislead more than reveal. And even that was more than any pony else was ever told. What little Shadow knew though was troubling at best and at worst cause for immediate help. Help that she would not be receiving as she lay against the wooden barrel her sitting in the middle of the room letting her tears fall against the stolen object.

Hope was hard to come by in this day and age, and the fact that few survived a wound as bad as hers not withstanding the infection that sprung up did little to ease her mind. She would analyse what ailed her then fell into darkness, arising hours later with all of her progress gone day after endless day when she was too ill to do more than weakly chew her food and take sips of water.

She was no stranger to fear or discomfort, but not even the most rambunctious of drunks that wandered the halls at night would place money on a child so young he did not even have an emblem on his flank to pull through with full time care and two jobs. By some miracle though the bowls of fresh water and small piles of flowers mixed with other medicinal herbs kept appearing in front of her on a daily basis. Beside her little sun dial reminding her how much of her day she spent blacking out, unable to do more than consume and create more work for the poor colt.

Looking up from her resting place Rising looked at the setting sun. The ball of flames had been taunting her for countless weeks now. Appearing flawlessly day after day when she begged for darkness to leave her blind to her surroundings, most prominently the dial that told her just how useless she really was. And then come winter when she begged it to return it only offered minor looks at her depriving her of warmth and solitude. Her cold sweats would get colder, her fevers would appear more false then before with shaking limbs.

Then worst of all, as she was to find out though was that it brought ponies indoors more often. With no crops and poor pickings some grew restless and some grew desperate. She remembered using her new found ability to talk and crawl once again lost as she stared into the eyes of a masked stallion as he crept into her room. His adorned winter cloak and cloth mask covered his entire body and face, his empty bag hanging beside him unopened and ready to take her or her livelihood.

Weak and alone the back of her mind screamed orders to fight, or at least spit at him as a last act of defiance. But even with the experience of harsh training and brutal upbringing at the hooves of her people back in her native village her body froze up. Even with no way to defend herself she endeavoured to keep eye contact as she waited for what was probably going to be a quick beating or an inglorious death. Neither happened though as the stallion winced at the sight before him, gagging once beneath his mask fighting an urge to dry heave. He left without a word or single object never to return. This had puzzled her more than it brought relief though.

She was Rising Dawn of the North. Wanderer of the wilderness and guide to any and all places the sun touched. She knew the way of combat and every means of fighting with or without a weapon was at her beck and call, she knew she carried an aura of authority with her that nopony questioned if they wished to live another day, she knew herself to be stronger than a bull and mightier than a Minotaur when crossed. So why did the stallion flee of disgust.

The question eluded her until later in the evening when her son came back with one of their pots claiming that he and his friends had cleaned so thoroughly it was reflective. Seeing him joyful she decided to test his word and hobbled over to the pot and looked into the polished metal bowl to see a small pool of water. The pony that stared back at her sent her into tears after he left.

She let a whimper lose as she rested her head against the barrel again unable to look at herself. Her coat had gone dull, her muscles had vanished gone, and worst of all the pain in her leg never ceased. Her defiance against the odds shattered that day along with the image of the mare she used to be. Her newfound ability to limp small distances in the coming weeks becoming wasted with the biting cold that surrounded her like a second set of bars in a cage.

She weakly stood testing her leg again in case a miracle had occurred within the last hour. It felt like the hot poker that stopped her bleeding was being wedge into her leg. On three legs she hobbled over her bedside trying not to put weight onto her injured leg. She had met many wanderers in her lifetime and the one thing they all had in common no matter their past or preferences was their affinity with freedom.

The saying that encompassed those in her profession was the only holding them to the ground was a lack of wings and a none too subtle desire to possess them. Motion was everything to Rising, earth pony towns where often like caravans without wheels with how frequently they were attacked by either the large beasts that could usually just step over the highest of walls one of the other two pony tribes after their resources.

With her previous stature she felt above all the petty squabbles that plagued the lives her kind as long as she kept moving, a strategy hammered so deep into her head the fact that she never would see herself as a simple subservient mare.
Unlike the many earth pony towns that lived near Pegasus territory her hometown had long hated the other two clans. So much that they not only refused to bow to their demands but going as far as to resist their rule entirely. While she was still training under the school of nature she would often watch her elders stop their lessons in herb lore to lead a group of fleeing peasants into the forest for safety and doing everything in their power to discourage invaders.

Eventually when the Pegasi decided that not even thick snow, hail and rain could not work they sent tar and fire into their nearby forest, only to discover that not only ponies lived there and they were not the only species that could fly. So instead they simply sent more soldiers and issued orders to kill anything without wings.

She felt a sense of sick accomplishment one day when she unwittingly ran into a briar patch when a couple of armed and armoured soldiers chased her one day. While she had long learned to ignore the bite of the barbed branches the soldiers' grunts of frustration accompanied by shouts of vile insults soon turned to screams of fear as a pack of dire wolves charged at them. Unable to take flight they were cut down before her young eyes.

Kneeling beside the bed she took a moment to gather her strength. Death was a part of life that you either had to acknowledge and accept or risk becoming weak. When she returned home with thorns stuck in her fur she was taken from the other groups of fillies and placed with a young group of mostly colts on the account of their strength and taught to fight. And while the knowledge had saved her on more than one occasion she was no conscienceless killer and returned to her survival training.

She never felt below the others she saw in the group until now. Pain was rarely a problem for her, this was not the first time she was stuck in one place wounded and scared. This was the only moment in her life though she could literally feel herself growing soft. Before coming here she could stand to see the faces of the ponies she neglected to save in favour of her own life or Shadow’s, death was everywhere and she accepted this long ago. What she could not hold back was one particular pony.

When she completed her life in the woods she emerged a reluctant better among other mares in her town, her reputation as a fighter and at the word of their elders a competent skirmisher earned her estranged looks while calmly harvesting wheat with the other workers. Despite being the centre of suspicion her word counted for little, and endless questions of regarding her gender only grew more frequent.

What prevented her lashing out one day was a new arrival who instead of asking her whether she ate meat or not wondered if she remembered her face. And that was what brought her anguish. River was a mare who was strong willed and honest and despite the different upbringing got along well with the former forester. When times were peaceful she was pleasant and helped shoot down any rumours that formed among the other workers about her.

They occasionally fought, they were almost at each other’s throats when River told her she was to elope with Bracken Hoof. She demanded they wait until spring as was tradition to become betrothed and River wished to as she said “alleviate her heat”. Days later River stopped showing up at work, the tanned brown stallion that she was infatuated with taking her place. Suspicious and enraged she confronted him for the first time demanding what he had done to steal her job, escalating from trading words to vicious blows, after knocking the stallion down she limped off toward his house in her unthinking state.

She found River with a bucket full of her own sickness and a freshly picked fruit flower in her hair. It took a richly deserved uppercut from the pregnant mare to force whereabouts of her husband from her muzzle along with a stream of apologies. And by some unexplained act of divine intervention she was forgiven within the month, enough time to see River and her lover meet under a harvest moon to utter the solemn vow of loyalty she helped River compose for her mate. And enough time to see her break her leg three months before she was due to have her foal.

She hesitated pulling apart the blanket that she slept on every night under the stars. The moment when the years of training she endured and countless triumph over trails flee from conscious thought returning once again. She could remember the helplessness when she heard the news, she could feel it right now; burrowing into her head replaying the words she always would remember her for “I would rather be a dependable pony than dependent on others”.

She blinked once clearing her eyes, a strip of her blanket in her mouth. Holding the long piece of tightly woven cloth in her mouth she climbed atop the stolen barrel. Her son had stolen this and if her suspicious were correct a number of things had already been taken in her name. And by her ancestors she would not let him take again. Thieves when caught often had the undersides of their hooves forcibly shod or when metal was scarce they simply removed whatever was tainted by the property the offending pony stole. Teeth, tails, whatever handled the stolen goods and ancestors forbid sometimes the hooves themselves. She shuddered at the thought as she pulled the other tight and tied it to the central roof support, testing is strength by kicking the barrel away.

She hung by her teeth alone for a minute before dropping to her hind legs. She stumbled and came down to all fours, crying in pain as her wounded leg it the floor. A while ago this would have been disgusting, leaving the world like this. She tied the cloth around her neck trying to remain resolute. Seasons ago though she could walk to ends of the earth and her only tether would be her growling stomach. Now her freedom was contained within four wooden walls, and that was on a good day.

She was nothing but a constraint herself now chaining Shadow to work himself to an early grave or in a guillotine awaiting recompense for being caught stealing for her. Exhaling once more she removed her for hooves from her throat and looked down on herself. Her legs shook with the weight bearing down on them, rocking the barrel. She knew that this was the point of no return, her body would not be able to handle the weight again.

Smiling slightly as a tear of relief fell she took one last breath, her decrepit body could not safeguard her son from the ill intentions of others, but perhaps if she could save him from himself and her past she could leave this plane with one last gift for his journey ahead. She would leave him everything, her belongings, her knowledge, and her half-finished stories. The harsh ones and the hurtful ones that took the form of a litany of scars hidden just underneath her lavender coat.

“One last journey”

And the bucket was kicked aside.

The rope grew tight and she swayed with the recoil.

Her body might have felt pain, but there was no compulsion left in her.

She knew she was doing and more importantly she knew what waited for her.

From some early point in her childhood she learned that her body was a vassal like no other, a servant who would give until their last breath to ensure its master would be safe above all else. A companion like no other she vaguely recalled the words of her teacher as a mist enveloped her vision and the annoying drumming slowed.

“Nopony else will love you like your body will, not even your ancestors and may they return with vengeance if I speak anything but the truth. Unlike any lover or spectator from the astral planes it has journeyed with you since you were born and will stay with you as best it can when you die”.

The mist swayed, ponies with glowing eyes and warm, somehow familiar smiles walked toward her to greet her
Momma

The being nodded and was soon greeted by three other figures who walked from the hundreds of ponies who had gathered around her.

“It will afford you luxuries you cannot buy filly and colts, which is why I live without them, here in this monument to our baser and best instincts”

Eyes sparkling a larger pony walked toward her and stood beside her mother, nuzzling her affectionately
Father

“For even as you breathe your last breath and await your first glimpse of the fields your inner powers will help you await as a friend would share mead in a tavern, easing the pain and soothing the mortal injury”

The two ponies smiled at her, their faces showing no sign of sorrow or anger

“It realizes the end, maybe more than you do, and as a reward for a good fight it gives its last, and like any lover its best”

Two more ponies walked through the mist of her ancestors, shrouded in vibrant blue and green instead of white like the rest of her family

Bracken
The stallion nodded turning his head toward the slender pony standing next to him

River
The mare smiled, her ghostly features becoming more transparent, revealing a smaller body on her back. The teal coloured apparition looking at her with wide eyes, full of curiosity.

“I have been near death my whole life and I have nary seen it for long and in truth it becomes a rare sight when there happens to be something anchoring your conscious”

The ghostly ponies that stood near in a circle behind her family and close friends turned their heads around to face the disappearing doorway, worried looks appearing on their shadowy faces.

“So don’t fear death, just do not seek it”

Behind the mist a white mane and black pelt appeared through the bodies shrieking something.
It flung her ancestors aside, their misty forms being carried along by the small body and being flung into nothingness.
“Don’t leave me” the shadow cried searching around the room, scattering the pieces of her ancestors around. It finally found a discarded knife her son used to slice herbs and leapt on its hind legs holding the blade in its mouth.

It cut the rope around her neck catching her body and falling backwards to cushion the blow, the knife cutting its shoulder. The shadowy colt gritted its teeth in concentration and immediately rolled her over checking her neck.
Her airways clear again the drumming returned, and her family started to panic as another form stepped among them. Her chest convulsed, her invincible ancestors ran from the figure save for the two that simply turned to face it shielding her from its path.

As the beast turned they turned to face it, standing alongside her with fire in their misty eyes. In the moment her vision was obscured by two ghostly hooves pushing her mouth shut

Her eyes rolled from the imminent battle toward the apparition’s face you. Shadow’s father was pressing his hooves down on her mouth scowling at her while he smothered her, the one victim of her hometown she felt relieved to be rid of was threatening her life once again.

“No” the shadow screamed trying to force her mouth open grasping pushing his hooves through the apparition’s and breaking them off at the joint. All eyes drew to the cloudy figure staring at its injury with wide eyes as the rest of it started to break up.

She felt her heart skip a beat and air reach her lungs once more, the threatening figure her parents were staring down shifting back a step before disappearing. Still teary eyed she looked at them once more as the mist began to vanish. They smiled at her before turning their gaze toward her Shadow. Their bodies were disappearing, her vision blacking out and the old sensation of pain shot up her spine.

She was delirious but their expression was undeniable. They looked proud as the world became a dark once again.

"Rising can you hear me" the voice trembled as it spoke. Unable to find the words she nodded "are you in pain" she was not, her body felt weightless, somewhat numb, but the pain was gone.

"Can you move your legs please" she raised both of her forelegs feeling heavy resistance about mid way to her full extent "thank you" the voice choked, barely holding back a sob. She grunted in response "can you open your eyes please" drearily she replied opening one eyes to see her son sitting before her cradling her injured leg. She blinked in confusion, his eyes were reddened with traces of tears streaking down his face, something that should not happen in paradise.

"Thank the gods you're alright" she prodded his face gently wondering why he could hold her limb at all, then again she did recall the ghosts of her ancestors fleeing before they took her so perhaps they were still waiting.

“Do you know where you are” she looked behind him, the wooden ceiling, the strips of cloth on one of the rafters. She briefly felt a pang of confusion as a burning feeling re-emerged around her neck “Rising” the feeling was unwelcome, it felt constricting forcing her to the ground when her body felt like it was about to fly away.

Shaking her head slowly only brought more discomfort, shying away from it she closed her eyes hoping the feeling would vanish “no no no you can’t die here open your eyes” the voice was wavering again, whether this was the speaker or her own concentration she could not be sure of. She knew though that it was beginning to annoy her, she wanted to listen, and at the same time float away from the pain.

“Please don’t come on open your eyes please” she turned her head aside folding her ears down to try and escapee the noise better, it was begging to tie her down now and she refused to let go of the feeling “no no no stay awake please” she felt something force one of her eyes open. The image was blurry at best, she could make out the face of her son’s reddened eyes. But that was impossible. She hung herself, she could remember the feeling of the nose around her neck and the moment when she felt the weight beneath her hooves vanish.

Her son would be out gathering food at this time of day, not on the path to paradise. She closed her eyes again enjoying the feeling of weightlessness, she knew the vision gone the voice would soon fade away and she could continue her way to meet her family line.

She faintly heard the sound of scrabbling hooves on the wooden floor “help somepony help me” she scoffed a little hearing her son’s voice. Maybe he had found her finally “anypony please” he sounded frantic which was strange. He had witnessed death before and never sounded as concerned as he was now. She dismissed the issue though, she knew nopony would help though, nopony came when she was there alive, but perhaps with her gone somepony would come for him though, now that she was gone.

What felt like an minutes of yelling passed before the sound of hooves reached her ears again “Shadow” somepony cried “stars above please help me” the voice replied grabbing hold of her head “what happened” a third voice cried rushing to her side.

“She tried to hang herself and, oh gods above please help me” there was more scrabbling and something grabbed her midsection and one her uninjured foreleg “what do we do” one voice cried out “I don’t know her neck isn’t broken but she’s getting worse”

“Rising” a soft voice spoke, she flicked her ears trying to find the source “Rising Dawn open your eyes please”. Hesitant to leave the place she was so comfortable in she opened one eye wearily. A young filly’s face obscured her glimpse of heaven “you can’t die here alright, we still need you” she blinked in confusion. She was already gone, why would she be needed.
“I need you to keep looking at me could you do that for me” she nodded faintly, the face of the filly looked familiar. Trying to remember the face of the filly she heard her son scream at someone in anger. Her eyes tracked the sound, the filly had somehow angered him “we can’t” he yelled both ears folded down in fear “Stone can you lift her up”

“I will try”

“I won’t let you”

“You have to Shadow just trust me please”

“ You'll kill her”

“She’s already on her way to paradise Shadow the least we can do is let her be outside when she leaves”
She hesitated at the mention of being inside. She could not be here, away from the earth. She had already lost her place of rest when she left her home, she could not forgo the last wish of her tribe, to have her soul trapped away from running the forests above within a building.

Stirring she tried to pull away from the darkness, the warm and comfortable ground felt better than any bedding she ever slept in, and the feeling of freedom was a paradise in its own way. But she had faced worse before, she had endured loneliness long enough and was not about to be trapped from meeting the family she never knew.

Slowly she moved her head and hooves trying to stand. The effort was draining, the strength to move her legs seemed to vanish “hold on I have you” stirred on by the gentle voice she continued, the feeling of gravity weighing bearing down was almost unbearable.

Gritting her teeth she felt herself rise. With three legs on the ground and a body beneath her injured leg holding her up she took her first step. She felt a quiver in her step and almost fell before the strength holding her up caught her “gently now”
She hesitated as she took her second step, the numbness was receding and in its place came feelings. Painful and unpleasant feelings that had grown so accustomed to. Filling her lungs with air she took a third step, then a fourth, a fifth. Gradually the feelings came back, noises came and went around her slowly growing in volume with every pace. On her thirteenth step she could feel gravity shift against her forcing her weight to her front.

“Down the stairs you can do it” Stairs. She remembered them bearing some importance once. She recalled something to avoid, an obstacle she could not overcome in her weakened state “just a couple more paces don’t fall”. Another step and the weight pushing against her vanished, what replaced the hardship though was the tide of voices drowning out the angelic voice she followed.

She heard “who is she” and “what is she doing here”. She quickened her pace, eager to escape the calls.
It felt like she was wading through water, every step fighting back against a powerful current. She could feel sweat coat her legs as exhaustion threatened to overtake her. She stopped mid stride to try and catch her breath “you’re almost there just a little further” the voice beckoned.

Inhaling heavily she pushed on, refusing to be parted from her kinsmen again, pain ripped through her body shocking nerves and quickening her heart. Though her hooves burnt, her chest heaved and her mind swam in agony there was one sensation around her fetlocks that she cherished.

In her long months trapped inside her room by her own frailty she had remembered one fantasy among the millions of wishes and countless prayers she uttered daily. To feel the grass outside the Inn.
The weight left her body and she felt herself fall onto something soft. She was beyond caring though, her soul could leave her body now and was free to travel alongside descendants.