Time seems to slow as Rarity grimly raises a dusty white hoof. It’s still clad in her climbing boots, having utterly eschewed the possibility she would step her bare hooves in so much filth. She reaches the torn cloth covering her barrel, the once tan canvas mottling a quite unfashionable dark color. She knows it’s red - blood red - despite the poor light, and her hoof pulls away stained the same. She never felt the blade, and a part of her mind insists it isn’t real, that this can’t be happening, despite the evidence directly in front of her.

A glint of black catching the fire ruby’s light yanks her back to reality. The stubby obsidian golem, for lack of a better word, barely comes up to her knee. Yet two long limbs stretch from the blocky torso and head, tipped with shards shaped like thin blades. It doesn’t seem to mind at all when her head rears back, her sole source of light aiming to the ceiling too far away to be seen. It merely advances, the harsh skittering along the stone a dreadful whisper.

Rarity tries to pull away, her shrill cry echoing in the cavern, but the tiny creature closes the gap with a lunge. She barely gets her booted hoof in the way of the slicing shard. The steel rod of her boot doesn’t quite deflect the thin blade. It bites in, nearly shearing through the entirety and getting to the much softer limb behind, but gets stuck partway.

Rage bubbles inside her no longer pristine chest, azure eyes filling with fury. She ignores how close she came to losing the hoof if the creature could have put any more force behind its blow. Or how fortunate she was to be wearing the now ruined boot, or for the loose cloth on her barrel to have absorbed even the tiniest portion of the initial blow.

Her horn explodes with light, a desperate attempt to drive the golem away. It silently shrieks, twisting valiantly, yet succumbs to the force. The blade stuck in the steel rod snaps off but not without dragging Rarity half a pace forwards. She stumbles as she catches herself, a wincing, mewling grunt as it bites into her hock. Her horn dims, but doesn’t go out, as she turns towards where she knocked the creature.

“Rarity?” comes a deep call from much too far away. Worry and adrenaline course through her, and an innate need to protect her stallion from any danger. She hesitates on calling out, afraid of him getting hurt, or even seeing her in such a state.

The scrabble against the rock returns, the implacable golem advancing into the dim light. Rarity grits her teeth as she levitates her pickaxe, the mute brute not even bothering to dodge as she slams the pointed tip into its skull. Or, at least what passes for an obsidian golem’s skull.

The blow drives the living stone into the ground, piercing through and pinning it to the stone. It quivers once before going still.

Rarity takes a deep breath as the awkward shuffle of booted feet comes closer. It was hard for her to even trot on the uneven ground of the cavern, and with only two legs Doug must be having a harder time of it. She takes a cautious step towards the golem, tilting her head to direct as much light as possible.

Only for it to rip its head in half.

The newly freed, half headless golem shambles forward, swinging one long and one short limb, both razor sharp. Except Rarity is ready, pushing the creature back with her magic while she frees her pickaxe, this time the blow driving through the center of its body. It shatters into a dozen pieces, scattering around a small black gem.

“Rarity, are you okay?” Doug asks as he stumbles next to her, far more worried about the mare than his footing. “Are you hurt?”

Rarity grits her teeth as she tests her injured foreleg. It hurts, but no worse than some of the injuries she got playing with her sire. Her chest, on the other hoof, is a much more immediate concern. She can feel her coat matting as blood seeps out of her, ruining the cloth chest cover. Ugh, she’d have to make a whole new one!

“I’ll be okay,” Rarity says reassuringly, but it apparently isn’t enough for the human. He holds the fire ruby as close to her as he can, and they both give a light gasp as she holds up her injured foot. “It’s painful, but I can walk on it.”

“Still,” Doug says, gingerly unstrapping the boot; the loss of the extra weight helps immensely. “We should get it taken care of.” He grimaces to himself, knowing there aren’t any antibiotics or cleaning supplies, just water. At least they can make do without a drink for a day. “Anywhere else?”

Rarity sits back on her rump, ignoring her mental protests of how unclean the cavern is, and motions with her injured leg to her chest. Doug’s eyes widen at the sight but immediately turn cold and analytical. Fingers push aside the hairs to inspect the cut.

“It looks superficial,” Doug pronounces after a few seconds. “Mostly because it’s not gushing blood, as far as I can tell. But it’s really hard to know in the dark. How is the pain?”

“Manageable,” Rarity says, though every breath strains the wound with an accompanying jolt of pain. She rests her good hoof on him, though it really seems like she is the one who is getting the encouragement. “I’ll be okay.”

“You keep saying that,” Doug says, a bit of worry breaking through. “What did this?” He looks around the darkened cavern. “Are there more?”

Rarity looks around, but it’s impossible to tell. “I don’t know exactly what it was. Some sort of rock elemental or golem. I’ve heard rumors of them being here, but I’ve never encountered one before.” She glances up at him, and he’s nodding carefully. “I think we are safe. But I’ll be on the lookout, that’s for sure.”

“Okay,” Doug says, but she can hear the disbelief in his voice. “You don’t want to head back home?” He motions to her chest. “You’re hurt, and we should get that checked out.”

“It’s like you said.” Rarity winces even as she barely moves. “I’m doing okay, and not getting worse. It’s a long walk back, and rushing home will make things worse. Better to get the work done that we came here to do, and hopefully that storm will have lifted by the time we’re done.”

Doug stares at her for a few long seconds. He can’t help but think about how he might be making the same argument in her shoes. “I’m trusting you on this,” he says, lightly patting her side. “You let me know as soon as you feel like you’re declining at all, or if it opens back up.”

Rarity nods, smiling. She offers him a soft nuzzle which he returns quickly. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“Sure,” Doug says, more than a little worried they aren’t treating this with the severity it deserves. “I’m nearly through on the other spot, if you’d like to come back with me. Just in case one is hiding there, as well.”

“But the gems,” Rarity says, motioning forwards with her injured hoof towards the glowing pile barely visible. It hurts to move her hoof, and she reminds herself that she needs to stop using it.

“That wasn’t a request,” Doug says, hand resting on Rarity’s neck and lightly guiding her towards where he was working before. “We can come back for them, but I’m not leaving you.”

Rarity complies with minimal persuasion, limping along on three hooves. “It’s okay, Doug,” she reassures, glad for him being next to her, even if it’s a little too awkward for him to help her walk. “It’s not your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have let you wander off on your own,” Doug says as they return to the dug out section of wall. He hefts the pickaxe, looking around in between every swing.

“You didn’t let me wander,” Rarity counters. She squats down in the most comfortable position for her chest, taking short, shallow breaths. “I’m my own mare. Plus, it’s better that I was injured than you, of course.”

“Of course?” Doug says, pausing his swings. “Thought it was the guy’s duty to protect the girl.” A grin crosses his face. “And it’s a big duty.”

Rarity snorts. “Now that is a load of duty. It’s the mare’s job to protect her stallion. And, similarly, the mare’s job to protect the country.”

“Oh, really?” Doug says, a hint of a smile. “Just because you have a Princess or two running things doesn’t equate into mares being the ‘protectors’ of everything.”

“Well, they are more thaumically gifted,” Rarity states evenly.

Doug raises an eyebrow. “Are they now.”

Rarity nods. “It’s widely documented, but nothing to be ashamed about or boastful. The process of pregnancy is quite debilitating on a mare, magically and physically. If they weren’t innately as strong as they are, they would hardly be able to get through it.”

“But you don’t seem like that sexually dimorphic of a species,” Doug says, resuming his mining. “Traits like that should also get passed from dam to colt, right? And stallions are bigger than mares. That’s gotta count for something.”

“It is a rare, say, hoofball team that doesn’t include a mix of stallions and mares.” Rarity shrugs at the concession. “Perhaps it is merely the greater number of mares that provides more outliers, those a cut above everypony else.”

“Could be,” Doug concedes as well. “Though I doubt I’ll have time to go check that kind of stuff out at the library. Applejack was a little miffed at me leaving her this morning, but at least with the rain I probably didn’t lose that much potential work at the farm.”

“I suppose,” Rarity says, smiling at Doug’s insistence on focusing on the positive. She takes a greedy sip of the remainder of their water, and a sandwich, everything she can do to keep her hooves busy while Doug works.

It doesn’t take long for Doug to break through, Rarity’s eye sparkling nearly as brightly as the yellow gems. The two stay very close to each other to collect the gems out in the open, and Rarity makes sure to grab the single gem the obsidian golem left behind.

They continue on, staying in the main cavern and ignoring the branching paths. They find a few more easily excavated caches, Rarity quite happy with the variety. But when they come across a second set of blue crystals in the walls Rarity makes an immediate about face, declaring that it had probably been long enough and it is time to head back. Doug offers no objections, merely gathering the various bags and supplies and heading through the tunnel they came through.

The rain has, thankfully, stopped once they get outside, but the gorge is still filled by a raging river. Getting down the cliff is a bit more of a challenge, what with Rarity’s injured foreleg missing a rod. She wants him to both help lower her down initially and, once she has her hind legs secured, get underneath her to help her down. She doesn’t mind at all how his hands dig into her rump as she pulls out her foreleg. In fact, she quite enjoys it, a potent reminder of a few nights ago that she wouldn’t mind repeating. Alas, he doesn’t take her then and there.

The walk along the cliff is a little harrowing, if only because Doug insists on walking between her and the edge in case she stumbles. He only lets up when Rarity jokingly offers to walk backwards, so her injured leg would make her stumble against the wall. At least it isn’t that far before they are back on the open plains.

Frequent breaks help with how exhausting the three legged walk makes the trek. Even with Doug carrying everything, secured by crisscrossing straps over his coat. And the storm is gone over Ponyville, which just leaves pegasi flying about their day. Or they were going about their days until they spot Rarity’s bloodstained chest, kickstarting a frenzy in the skies.

It’s at this point, where half a dozen pegasi swarm about Doug, that Rarity wishes she spent a little more time cleaning the blood out of her coat.

Next Chapter: Ch. 62 - The Cauteriser Estimated time remaining: 7 Hours, 36 Minutes