//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: Winter // by TheVaultDoor //------------------------------// To me it was only yesterday that I was doing a thing most gamers could only dream of: surviving in a nuclear wasteland. And now? Now I'm in a little girls dream. Equestria, they call it, land of unicorns, pegusai, and earth ponies ruled by Princess Celestia. I’ll believe that she raises the sun when I see it; I've always been sceptic towards myths and gods. To be fair though, I'm stuck up here in Canterlot for the most part. Once again I level the rifle ad aim down the scope at my adversary, the dreaded watermelon, and placed my finger over the trigger. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Hold and- “Human” –miss… these ponies have brilliant timing; the guards must have nothing better to do than call you in the middle of something important. I tell you, this had better be life changing, I NEVER miss a shot. “Human, the Princess had requested your presence, you are to follow me to the throne room immediately!” with a sigh I put the rifle on safety and sling it over my shoulders, it seems only Princess Celestia has the courtesy to call me by name. No matter, I’ve grown used to it. None the less I begrudgingly allow the guard to lead me to the throne room. It’s kind of sad really, I must have been here for about three years now and I still need an escort between rooms. I personally blame the now long dead architect for his poor planning; the place is a damn maze (So much for public access). One five minute walk late, which I swear was completely different last week, and we arrived in the throne room. Now let me make one thing absolutely clear about Princess Celestia, even without her horn adding an extra six inches or so, she dwarfs me. I’m about five foot nine, and the average pony is about stomach high compared to me. Celestia is well over six feet tall. Any wonder she refers to her subjects as her ‘little ponies’? “Ah Marcus, how fair you this hour?” she asks pausing from her afternoon tea. I’ve sad it once and I’ll say it again: superimposing the image of Prince Blueblood over a melon and blasting it repeatedly with explosive rounds is far more effective stress relief than comfort eating. To each their own, I suppose. “I am well” I reply with a bow, “however I do not believe you called me here to discuss the weather” while I was never one for pleasantries, you tend to pick up a bit about etiquette when you liv with royalty. “Indeed Marcus” she sighed slipping in to what I’ve come to know as ‘the royal poker face’, marred only slightly by a crumb of cake she’d missed, “Does the name ‘Grim Tidings’ mean anything to you?” The name did ring a bell, but I wanted more information before I made up my mind. A rash decision had brought me to Equestria after all. I recalled the name fitting a pony I saw in a dream, an odd thing for a survivalist like me to be dreaming of; I wanted to know if this was the same pony. “Can you describe their appearance for me, Princess?” “Unicorn Stallion, iron grey mane and white coat, hourglass cutie mark” she lists, and this definitely sounds like my guy (Don't you dare take that the wrong way), “I sis recognise the name Princess, and by your description, he matches a pony I met in a dream who introduced himself as such” “I see” all is silent as she regards this information, planning her next move around it like a chess master, as it so happens I did play chess with her at one point, most humiliating minute of my life. “Markus!” I snap to attention at the sudden noise, I must have been reminiscing for too long “Grim is an old friend of mine,” she continues in her normal, softer voice; she stands up and motions for me to follow, “He has asked to meet you, I know not why, but you will be heading to Ponyville this afternoon, along with my faithful student Twilight Sparkle.” Twilight Sparkle… Twilight and I have a bit of a ‘rocky’ relationship: She loves to study and torture me with endless questions, while I prefer to mess around and annoy her with unusual and more-often-than-not cryptic answers. Nothing personal, but we just wind each other up unless we’re focused on the same task, an extremely rare occurrence. This was not going to be fun. “Now before you protest,” but that’s one of my hobbies, “The two of you will only be going to Ponyville together, Twilight has her own task to do this day” This was preferable, only marginally so, the two of us would be at each other’s throats in minutes, and I don’t rate my chances if she drags her assistant in. It’d be two on one and the little dragon has a very sharp set of teeth, never mind the claws. Still it’s not like I can disagree, the Princess as spoken and her word is law. ‘Sides, I had overheard Twilight speaking of what the Princess did to somepony calling themselves Nightmare Moon, and I wasn't in a hurry to suffer the same fate. And thus by the powers of royal convenience we found ourselves in front of a waiting chariot (One of the pegasus pulled ones I jokingly referred to as planes) with Twilight and Spike packing one of Twilight’s notorious mile long check-lists. “So… see you again tomorrow, maybe?” I'm a bad conversationalist, even with six months of social coaching “It’s rather hard to tell with Grim, I felt it better to play it safe and order the maids to pack a week’s worth of your possessions, they should be arriving any minute now” And sure enough (once again by the powers of royal convenience) out of the northern tower walked a young mare struggling under the weight of luggage. I felt a little chivalrous and decided to carry the suitcase instead. Judging from the sweat on her brow, somepony may have ‘accidently’ dropped some of my personal armoury in there; probably better than leaving it for Blueblood to kill himself with. Given he's the source of many of my day to day problems, I shouldn't class that as bad thing,right? This is why I spend so much time on the range; blasting fruit is so much easier than making life changing decisions.