//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: The Rise of Magnus // by Duffman18 //------------------------------// The convoy continued to move forward. Volksson counted each day that passed with a growing sense of concern. The sharing of supplies had gone over well enough, but it wouldn’t last them forever and the more time that passed with no new land sighted, the more and more likely it became that they would run out of one or more of the necessities. So far there hadn’t been any problems amongst the people either. He supposed that it had to do with them being more unified through this event, but Volksson knew survival was a key facet of human nature. And when others jeopardized your own survival . . . he feared what might happen if that situation came to pass. “This is ridiculous!” Volksson mentally cringed at the outburst. Arnulf had been growing more and more vocal about how the supplies were being distributed as time had passed. “Arnulf,” Volksson began carefully. “We all agreed on how the supplies were being distributed. It is not your tribe alone that is suffering shortages. There are growing numbers of those within my tribe who must go without more and more food and water.” Arnulf stared angrily at Volksson before gesturing violently towards Gormensson. “And why are we suffering shortages, Shadow? We all agreed on the previous distribution and we all checked to make sure it would last us long enough to find a new home. Yet, now we face shortages weeks before we feared we would face them. Either we made some serious miscalculations or someone is not honoring their end of the agreement. Isn’t that right Gormensson?!” Gormensson looked outraged at the accusation. “Now look here you Eagle simpleton! Simply because your tribe cannot control any of its baser impulses, do not dare to accuse us of hoarding food. More likely your natural stupidity has kept you from keeping control of the very food you claim a shortage of. Or perhaps you seek more food than you need to weaken us?!” Volksson and Barca glanced at each other fearfully. This was the last thing they had expected when this meeting had been called. Two chiefs were at each other’s throats and both looked a hair’s breadth away from breaking out in violence. “ENOUGH!” roared Volksson. The two feuding chiefs looked over at him in surprise, as if they had forgotten he and Barca had even been there. “This fighting is pointless. Worse, it gives the daemons exactly what they want: our demise. We must remain unified or court destruction. And if you cannot control your anger enough to deal with these problems, than you will not be given a voice in these matters.” Both Arnulf and Gormensson looked at Volksson, disbelief plain on their faces. Even Barca looked at him, shocked at his proclamation. “What exactly are you saying Shadow?” asked Arnulf, his voice quiet but laced with anger. Volksson took a deep breath to steady himself before responding. “I am saying that if you cannot confront these problems with a clear head than you should not be allowed to confront these problems at all. Our race is at stake and I will not allow your dislike of each other to get in the way of our survival. From now on the distribution of food, water, and supplies will be handled solely by me and Barca. I expect that the two of you will provide accurate tallies of your current stores and make room for our representatives aboard your ships.” Arnulf stood and roared in anger at the young man before him. “Impudent whelp! You think to order me . . .” Arnulf stopped speaking as he heard the sounds of weapons being drawn all around him. Turning around slowly he saw ranks of Shadow troops all pointing their drawn weapons at him. When he turned back to face Volksson, he was met by eyes filled with a steely resolve. “I do think to order you Arnulf. If you have problems than we can discuss this calmly and rationally like men; but do not think to challenge me on my ship while surrounded by my men.” Arnulf continued to stare at Volksson for another few moments before breaking out into hearty laughter, the hostility disappearing swiftly from his face. It was replaced with a look that bespoke a new respect. “Very well Volksson, I’ll support your proposal. I’ll have my men ferry over an accurate tally by high noon tomorrow.” Volksson smiled, a feeling of relief rushing through him. “Thank you Arnulf. And what of you Gormensson?” The leader of the Lightning tribe returned Volksson’s gaze with barely concealed contempt. “It appears that I have little choice in the matter. A tally of our stores will be given to you by high noon tomorrow.” “An accurate tally I hope.” Gormensson flinched as if he had been slapped. “Of course. But know this Volksson; we will have words about this in the future.” And with that, the portly leader took his leave along with Arnulf. When the two leaders had left the ship, Volksson slumped back into his chair relief flooding through him that this crisis had been averted. Barca continued to stare at him in disbelief. “Were you planning this when you called this meeting?” Volksson looked over at him and gave his friend a tire smile. “Would you believe if I told you no?” Judging from the look on Barca’s face, he wouldn’t. Volksson just sighed before gazing out at the disjointed line of ships on either side of his own. “In all honesty I was just improvising. It was obvious that the two of them were having problems with cooperating with each other and the Lighting and Eagle tribes have gone to war against each other enough times to warrant distrust between them. But at the same time we can’t let their misgivings interfere with the survival of the human race. Though to be honest with you I was terrified that Arnulf would kill me for this.” Barca simply shook his head, marveling at Volksson’s impulsiveness. “Ignoring Arnulf, you’ve definitely made an enemy of Gormensson today. The Lightning Tribe may have a weaker head on its shoulders, but their arms are as strong as ever. Be careful.” Volksson just nodded at him. “I think you should be returning to your ship Barca,” he said quietly. “Night will fall soon and it would be best not to tempt fate by sailing between the Convoy in the dark.” “Of course. Then until the next clansmeet my friend.” Time continued to flow onward and the situation within the Convoy continued to worsen, despite Volksson and Barca’s best efforts. Supplies were dwindling and fights were beginning to break out. It had gotten so bad that Volksson had posted a team of guards to watch over their supplies of food and water to keep people from stealing more than their allotted rations. Meeting after meeting was held to try and hold the convoy together, but Gormensson continued to hold up the proceedings with his constant complaining and accusations of favoritism against Volksson. But they all knew deep down that no matter what, every solution they came up with would only delay the inevitable. If land was not spotted soon, than the Convoy might very well fall apart at the seams. ---- Celestia and Luna sat upon their golden thrones, their forms radiating power and authority. The two of them had been hearing petitions for the better part of the day and neither one of them was enjoying it any more than they had at the start of the day. The needs of the ponies of Equestria were always the same, with little to no variation or complexity. It was honestly growing more and more boring with every passing day. Worse, there was nothing to break the tedium for the two princesses. The rout of the humans had seen the last of Equestria’s enemies broken and the golden age they had entered had resulted in less major crises for them to resolve. “Your highnesses!” The shout broke them from their reverie as they stared piercingly down at the guard who had called them. “What is it guard?” Celestia asked. The guard quickly saluted before motioning a group of guards forward with his hoof. The guards in question were carrying two ponies: a unicorn and a pegasus. Both looked as though they had been through a cataclysmic event. The pegasi had bandages covering large swathes of his body and his eyes darted everywhere as if searching for something that only he could see. The unicorn, however, was far worse off. His coat was matted and stained with what looked like dirt and dried blood. Thin, spidery cracks ran up his horn and his legs shook uncontrollably. His eyes had deep purple bags under them as if he hadn’t slept in days and the eyes themselves had shrunken to pinpricks as they constantly darted in every direction, never resting in one place for more than a few seconds. Celestia looked sharply at her guards after giving the two ponies a quick once-over. “What has happened to these two?” The guards looked concernedly at each other before their captain responded. “I’m not sure your highness. We found these two near the edge of the Everfree in this state. I thought it best to bring them before you. Their wounds and their apparent mental states are indicative of no creature we have seen before.” Celestia nodded once before looking at the shivering unicorn. As she focused more intently on him she realized that his mouth was constantly moving, chanting some sort of mantra under his breath non-stop. “Unicorn!” The stallion looked up sharply, looking as though he had only just realized where he was. “What has happened to you and your companion?” The unicorn murmured something quietly in response her question, but Celestia could not quite make it out. “Out with it foal!” Luna broke in. “Ch- Ch- Chaos. It was chaos your majesties: pure and unadulterated chaos.” And with that he promptly passed out, this one proclamation seemingly draining him of all his strength. Celestia’s eyes narrowed at the unicorn’s words. Chaos had been something fairly stripped from Equestria, the war with Humanity being the last bout of uncontrolled chaos let loose in Equestria. Almost absentmindedly she motioned for the two broken ponies before her to be taken away. As the guards dragged the two away, Luna turned towards her. “I believe this is something we should investigate sister. Whatever has occurred, it has had a strong effect on those two ponies. It dares to attack our subjects. Let us make it see why you do not interfere with our domain.” ---- “Land Ho!” The call echoed through the chill, morning air. From ship to ship and person to person, the news was carried with the speed of a lightning bolt throughout the whole of the convoy. Volksson rushed out onto the bow of his ship, almost unable to believe the good news. What he saw filled his heart with joy and as the land came into better and better view, he began to laugh uncontrollably as the stress of the journey here melted away. Here was a new land before him and another chance for humanity to rebuild and prosper. He could hear cheers and laughter coming from the other ships in the Convoy as the rest of humanity’s remnants voiced their joy and relief. The ships quickly made towards the shore and in the absence of a proper port, beached themselves on the coast. In a great flood, the masses of humanity poured off the ships and onto the first solid land they had seen in weeks. As Volksson stepped onto the shore, he swept his gaze across the landscape taking in the view. “Beautiful isn’t it my friend?” Volksson was shaken from his reverie by a hand clapping him on the shoulder. Looking back he saw the smiling face of Barca looking back at him. “It is Barca. But it’s more what it represents that makes it all the greater.” “And what does it represent Volksson?” Volksson smiled back at his friend before going to join the rest of his tribe. “Hope, Barca. It represents hope. For all of us.” ---- Days passed as the tribes worked to hammer out temporary settlements along the coast. Dozens of small settlements sprung up almost overnight centered on the larger settlements set up by the Eagle, Shadow, Thunder, and Lightning tribes. The four large tribes had set up four settlements all contained within a central palisade wall. In this manner, they could keep an eye on one another until more permanent arrangements could be made. But despite the apparent unity of the tribes, tensions were growing greater and greater every passing day. While onboard the Convoy, tribes had been something only loosely adhered to. Here on the mainland was another story entirely. The tribal system had come back in force as foraging for resources had allowed for the tribes to restock their own stores. And with no further need for interdependence, the tribes had almost unconsciously settled back into their old ways. Volksson and Barca were both worried that if something was not done to strengthen the bonds between the tribes in these new lands soon, than the only outcome would be war. And any war now would sound the death knell of mankind. So there was only one course any of them of them could see that might allow them to remain united in this new land. They would have to call a clansmeet . . .