Radiant Hope grimaces as her face brushes yet another wet, slimy branch out of the way. Her legs are sore, her horn is sore, and if it wasn’t for the brown cloak she’s sure she would have collapsed hours ago. Yet she follows the inexorable unicorn through the thick, gloomy forest. The orchid coat and rose mane occasionally dip behind a trunk or three. She hurries forward then, worried when that happens. If she lost her…

Just like she lost the two entrusted to her…

She hadn’t slept on the train. She had tossed and turned, fretfully replaying that final second over and over. It was so vivid: the hazy golden shield protecting the cave, the lack of clear communication, the seeming brilliance of their plan to buy them the mere seconds they would need. And then it went awry so quickly. There they stood when the shield disappeared, clear as day even in the shrouded cave, Applebaum halfway to lifting up their prize while Totem watched her with such focus he didn’t even react to the ceiling collapsing.

She could have saved them. If she had known the ceiling was so weakened, if she was faster with her teleports, if she, if, if, if...

The rest of the trip down the mountain passed in a daze. How did they get off the mountain so quickly (a teleport?), how did they get on the train (a teleport?), how did the awkwardly large and heavy bell become poorly concealed in her saddlebag (a teleport? Wait, that didn’t make sense…).

She snaps to reality as she nearly plows into Tempest Shadow. The unicorn has stopped in a small clearing by a stream. Thick, leafy branches cover the canopy, but that doesn’t stop her companion from glancing upward with a hard look in her eyes, teeth clenched and breath held.

“Again?” Radiant Hope asks, stifling her sob. All she wants is to lay down and sleep. Better yet, turn themselves in, confess what had happened and beg forgiveness. They didn’t mean for the roof to collapse, they didn’t mean, they didn’t, they…

If Tempest Shadow notices her pitiful condition she gives no indication. “Again.”

Joints burn and muscles ache as she acquiesces, too beaten by fatigue and doubt to protest. The flared bell seems stuck in her saddlebags, or maybe that’s just her exhaustion, and it takes a grumbling Tempest Shadow using her teeth to pull it free.

Placing her hooves on the bell helps. She can feel the magic stored inside. It wants to soothe, to comfort, to heal, to replenish that which was lost and revitalize that which remained. It wants to help, possibly more than she does.

But it can’t.

It’s stuck, caged, locked behind a wall she cannot break, behind a lock missing a key. Yet some leaks out, or perhaps bubbles out, forced out by more generating inside. From what she can tell the bell isn’t just a means of storage, one of those batteries she’s heard about being developed. It’s a capacitor combined with a dynamo, an artifact created by Grogar to generate, house, and then release a vast quantity of thaumic energy all at once. That would explain why it is indestructible.

But all that knowledge does nothing to help her access it.

She can sip from that tiny trickle, from the excess that flows out from what must be a relief valve of sorts. How long has it been bursting at the seams? She has no idea. But when she rings the knocker more shake loose, like the droplets that cling to the bottom of a gutter.

With stilted breath and a brief shudder she gives the bell a hearty shake.

The bell sounds deeper than it has any right to be, like if a newborn ewe gave off the rumble of a ram. Metallic yet not harsh, the echoing, ephemeral sound leaves a shimmer as it reverberates through the air. She grasps at that shimmer, willing herself to absorb whatever trace of magic she can.

It helps, she knows it helps. But to call the task before her daunting would be to compare reading a book to memorizing every text in the Crystal Library.

Still, she pushes her focus forward, out of her body and into the prone unicorn in front of her.

Her gut reaction is not as bad as the first time she gazed upon Tempest Shadow’s mangled core. She can look past the scarred tissue without delving into how such a grievous wound could be inflicted (shattering or severing a horn would not be enough, but an Astral Ursa doesn’t just affect the material plane). She can instead contemplate how she might stimulate the surrounding tissue to act as a conduit for Tempest Shadow’s considerable magical might. A path of least resistance of sorts, but not something she could construct block by block. It would need to be built organically, like the rest of a pony’s body, built according to rules simple enough to be encoded in a single cell.

Despite her work not being complete she moves on. As a rule, the body doesn’t build just to build. It builds for a purpose, and no two pony’s bodies are exactly alike. She couldn’t just copy a template like a house or build from a blueprint. It would need to be customized, and the only way to do that is with a physical horn constructed during the process. Then the thaumic circuits would attempt to circulate through the dense keratin. Splicing the nerves, the blood vessels, the skin and muscles and other tissues, there she has experience. She would need to provide that structure, or at the very least the raw materials so those previously mentioned rules might take effect. But such a horn would be useless without the thaumic circuits, and wouldn’t be built right if the construction is not simultaneous.

And no, she would not be sacrificing the last fragment of her beloved as raw material. She would sooner cut off her own horn, or better yet rob an abattoir. But to fall so low as to need to do that...

With a gasp she pulls her focus back to her own body. Her horn throbs as starved cells beg to be replenished. Did she tap herself too dry? A part of her hopes so, that she might slip into sleep, never to wake. At least the pain would end.

“Closer?”

Tempest Shadow’s single inquisitive word brings her back. She doesn’t want to raise her head; her muscles protest even lifting her neck so she can look her friend in the eyes. She owes her that much. She shakes her head, but the disappointment in those orchid orbs is nothing compared to what she feels for herself. She slumps over, barrel heaving.

If she can’t repair Tempest Shadow’s horn, how is she possibly going to repair her precious Sombra’s whole body?

She awakens several hours later, feeling no better. Groggily she looks around, stomach rumbling and throat parched. She digs her hooves into the soft earth and drags herself to the stream. A disheveled pony stares back at her, broken not only by the rippling current. She plunges her muzzle into the cold water, wishing she could break up the lingering image in her mind.

“Apricot?”

Radiant Hope looks up. Tempest Shadow motions to a few gray fruits by her side. They don’t look particularly appetizing, but her stomach doesn’t particularly care. She takes a bite, surprised by the full flavor bursting in her mouth. She doesn’t deserve it, so she puts it aside, ignoring her stomach’s weak complaint. “Juicy.”

Tempest Shadow pulls out a newspaper and tosses it in front of Radiant Hope. “Notice anything?”

Radiant Hope looks at the front page splayed out in front of her. News about some upcoming festival, caution about the weakening structural integrity of some rainbow sign, and other local interest items for a town she’s never heard of called Hope Hollow. “Should I?”

“Exactly.” Tempest Shadow munches on an apricot. She lets the word hang in the air. Radiant Hope merely stares back at her. Tempest Shadow explains with a touch of fervor, “If the Princess’ herd lost a foal, wouldn’t it be front page news?” Her smug grin widens. “Our mugshots plastered on every paper?”

It takes a moment for her words to click. Either they didn’t know what happened on the mountain - and they must know, Princess Celestia’s schemes run too deep for her to not realize - or they did know. And if they knew, and the two of them haven’t been apprehended yet…

Radiant Hope’s eyes shoot open. A great weight lifts off her withers, freeing her from her despondency; hope floods back in to fill the void. “They made it!”

Tempest Shadow nods, far too nonchalant for Radiant Hope’s liking. “Pie?”

Radiant Hope gobbles down the rest of her apricot before greedily digging into the grayish pie. It’s delicious and filling, everything she needed. She feels Tempest Shadow’s eyes on her the whole time. “So,” she says between large bites. “All that rushing through the forest, leaping off the train in the middle of nowhere instead of at a station. All that was for nothing?”

“It was not for…” Tempest Shadow defensively starts before noticing the jest in Hope’s voice. “Perhaps. They either know where we are, and we can do little about that, or they do not care to cast their net as wide as possible. Are you feeling better?”

The forced courtesy raises Radiant Hope suspicion. She teases, “Aww, did you make me feel better just so I could help with your horn?”

Tempest Shadow merely stares at her, reverting to her normal dourness.

Radiant Hope grins, giving her companion a quick nuzzle. “It’s okay. Now, lay down!”

Tempest Shadow obligatorily lays down.

The bell rings out again. It doesn’t give off as much as the last time, or maybe it just doesn’t seem that way because her own power has returned. She plunges forward, again attempting to wrap her mind around the daunting task ahead.

Partway through she pulls out, though her cry is of frustration rather than exhaustion.

“I… I’m…” she sputters out, teeth clenched. She doesn’t want to misrepresent what is happening. “If I could fully access the bell’s power, then there would be a chance. A good one. But without it… I can’t hold everything in my mind at once. It’s too much.”

Tempest Shadow nods, but without the malice or resentment Radiant Hope thought there would be. It’s a hard nod, implacable, looking to the future without overly dwelling on the past. She packs up the meager remains of their meal into the slim saddlebags at her sides, then pushes on through the woods.

Seeing little alternative Radiant Hope follows along.

Next Chapter: Ch. 120 - From Dust, Part Two Estimated time remaining: 13 Hours, 6 Minutes