//------------------------------// // Chapter 1: Mysterious Prince // Story: The Prince of Eldenroot // by Luckybuck //------------------------------// Chapter 1 A field of green stretched out far and wide over the rolling hills of the Western lands. The cool breeze wafting through the night air stirred the tall grass of the field into a constant sway. Trees squatting on the edge of the forest hung low over the grass, branches almost reaching the ground as they moved in the wind. The soft sounds of water dancing over rock drifted through the forest. A creek meandered through the rocky, root-filled woods, over a small drop and into a pond. The pond was the center of a clearing in the trees, and the only part of the forest that the Moon’s glow was able to reach. The quiet peace of the clearing was disturbed only by the soft hoof steps of a deer. Standing tall and proud, his ghost white coat almost gleamed in the moonlight. Antlers, wide, long, and wickedly pointed, brushed against the braches of a tree as the Prince of the Forest walked to the water’s edge. His bright green eyes seemed to glow with their own light as he surveyed the clearing. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he lowered his head down to drink the cold water. Suddenly, a furious flapping of wings caused the stag to jerk his head up and look upon the scene playing out before him. Across the pond an owl, great and terrible, swooped down. The last squeak of a mouse cried out, barely audible, and was then cut short by the talons of this predator of the night. The owl flew away, flapping his huge wings against the air of the night. A single feather, brown and speckled black, slowly flittered through the air, drifting over the pond to land at the feet of the stag. The white buck stared at the scene of the mouse’s death. His cold green eyes looked upon the empty grass beyond the pond, but not a trace of motion was visible on his face. Only his ears moved, pricked up to listen for the slightest bit of sound in the quiet of his domain. A soft voice betrayed the position of someone beyond the line of trees, and the stag turned his head sharply to his right. Another soft voice and the stag nearly jumped into the trees, heading towards the sound. The stag ran through the forest, bobbing and weaving around branches, hopping over roots, faster and faster through the night. The trees eventually opened up to the fields beyond, presenting the fleeing deer with a sea of grass. He slowed only for a moment before returning to a full run straight through the field of green. Waves of grass swaying in the dark spurred the white stag onward towards an unknown destination. The ground very slowly rose to an incline; one hill of many in the fields. This hill was higher than most however, and atop it sat the ruins of what used to be a stone watchtower. A square building that was attached to the tower had fallen in on itself, with only one wall still fully standing. The circular tower itself still stood, though it was in disrepair. A few of the stone blocks that made up the structure were missing, exposing the interior to the now colder air of the night. A large wooden door, banded with darkened iron, was the only entrance to the tower. The imposing door hung slightly ajar, and a flickering light escaped into the darkness. Inside the tower was a fireplace against the far wall from the door. The roaring flame within kept the cold of night at bay. A cooking pot hanging above the fire smelled of vegetables and spice. Two bedrolls lay on the stone in front of the fireplace, occupied only by a saddlebag sitting atop each one. Hoofsteps could be heard from above, along with quiet voices. On top of the watch tower, a stallion paced back and forth. He wore a suit of steel armor, emblazoned with the mark of the Empire. The sun shaped crest on the armor’s flank denoted him as a member of the Imperial army. His messy black hair was a stark contrast to the armor’s gleam in the soft moonlight. His companion, a mare wearing a long cloak with the same crest, stood looking out over the land. Curls of her dark purple hair hung out from under the cloak’s hood, swaying in the breeze as she looked out upon the land from her post on the watchtower. “Do you see anything, Miss?” The stallion asked, still pacing. “No.” The mare sighed. She looked longingly into the distance, then back at her companion. “Stand still, Mar. You’re distracting me.” “My apologies, Miss.” He replied, and stood still. “I have a feeling that the reports were exaggerated.” She said to him, after a short silence. “I haven’t seen anything, or felt any odd magic.” “They usually are, Miss. But we still require a professional to check things out.” “I know.” She sighed. “Mar, how long has it been since one of these reports actually turned out to be true?” “Umm… A year next Hearts and Hooves day. But it’s been even longer since anything dangerous was found.” “Exactly. I don’t think there are any cults this far out. At least not that worship regularly.” “You’re probably right, Miss. But we can’t just assume that-” He stopped in the middle of his sentence, staring past the mare. “Mar?” She looked at him, questioningly. “What is it, Mar?” A hint of fear revealed itself in her voice as a look of surprise and shock showed on Mar’s face. She slowly turned around. Behind the mare, standing on the edge of the tower’s roof, was the largest deer she had ever seen. His fur was a ghostly white, and stood out sharply against the dark background of the open sky. His bright green eyes, fixated upon her, seemed almost to glow with their own light. As he looked down at her, she could hear Mar shuffling to grab his sword. The stallion grabbed the blade’s grip between his teeth, and pulled it from the scabbard on his side. He flashed the short imperial style blade at the deer. “Stamf behine meh!” The stallion mumbled. The mare backed slowly from the large stag until she stood behind Mar. The stag followed her movements with his eyes, but remained standing still. Her light grey eyes met the stag’s gaze as he took a step forward. Mar swung his sword in the air between them, and the stag stopped. His gaze shifted to Mar, and both were still. Suddenly, in a flash of motion, the deer swung his head down, and caught the blade of Mar’s sword with his antlers. The blade was sent flying over the edge of the tower, while the stallion that had been holding it was knocked to his side a few feet away. “Mar!” The mare yelled as she attempted to rush over to her companion. The stag, however stepped between them. He looked down at her, his imposing figure causing her to sweat with fear. She began to shiver, her legs started shaking, and she realized she could no longer hold his gaze. She dropped her head and fell to her knees in front of the huge form of the white stag. A silence overtook the tower as she realized that Mar wasn’t standing back up. A few tears escaped her eyes, and rolled down her face. “Be calm.” The stag’s voice, not terribly loud, but overwhelmingly powerful spoke. “Raise your head.” The mare did as she was told, slowly raising her head to once again meet the eyes of the deer. He stared down at her, and she couldn’t help but think of him as some great king, or other regal figure. Such was the way he looked at her. “What is your name?” The stag asked, his tone formal. After a moment without an answer, he repeated himself, more forcefully. “What is your name?” “V- Violet Rain.” She stammered in response. “What is your reason for being in this ruin?” “W- We received a report of demon worship in the area, and Mar and I were sent to check it out.” “Demon…” The stag spoke the word slowly. “What sort of demon worship?” “I’m not sure.” Violet said. “We were told that a group of ponies had been seen near the border, dressed all in black and chanting around an odd totem.” “That’s rather cliched.” His voice lot a touch of its formality. “Besides, there have been no ponies in this area for years. That is, until you two.” “We didn’t mean to disturb you.” The mare looked at him, pleadingly. “I assume you don’t know exactly where you are.” He smirked. “You’re in my kingdom, little pony.” “Y- Your kingdom?” She looked at him, confused. “Eldenroot Forest. My territory extends to these fields.” He raised his head away from her, and looked out over the land. “You’ve come far from civilization.” “I- Is Mar okay?” Violet asked after a pause. “The stallion?” The white stag asked, looking over at the limp body. “He is unconscious and bruised, but otherwise unhurt.” The mare smiled, but the stag once again became serious. “I’m afraid I must ask you to leave as soon as he awakens.” “We will. But-“ “The Empire is not welcome in my Forest. I will be watching you until you leave this place.” With that, he turned from her, and walked over to the edge of tower. He jumped over, and without a sound vanished. Violet remained crouched for a few minutes after the stag left. She could still feel cool sweat on her light purple fur. Eventually she stood, and walked slowly to her companion. He was breathing, but his left eye was black, and she could see where he landed on his legs beginning to bruise. She walked downstairs, and noticed that their fire had burned out. She put on her saddlebag, then rolled her bedroll and placed it across her back, then did the same with Mar’s. After that, she grabbed his considerably heavier bags and dragged them up the stairs. His bag and bedroll were set beside him, while she herself moved closer, and sat near his head. “Let’s hope I can remember the basic healing spell.” She said quietly to herself. Her horn glowed with a yellow light as she concentrated on the limp body of her companion. The light surrounded him as well, after a few moments, and the bruises began to fade. His breathing became more regular, and his eyes moved under his eyelids. “C’mon Mar, wake up.” “Huh?” Mar groggily awoke, blinking a few times. When he saw Violet’s grey eyes looking down at him, he sprang to his feet. “Miss! What happened to the white stag?” He looked around frantically. “He left. And we should, too.” She motioned to his bags, and then walked over to the stairs. Mar stood, a puzzled look on his face, for a few seconds before putting on his saddlebags and placing his bedroll upon his back. “Do you know where he went? What happened while I was out?” He asked, as he caught up with Violet. “I have no idea where he went, and I don’t want to find out now.” She replied, quickly. “He told me that this was his forest, and that we were the first ponies to come here in years. And then he said to leave.” “Is that all? He didn’t hurt you did he, Miss?” “No, Mar, I’m fine.” She sighed. “Just a little shaken up. Your sword landed on that side of the tower, go get it.” She pointed to their right as they exited the tower. He responded by trotting quickly past her and finding the steel blade stuck into the dirt. He returned it to its scabbard, then walked back to her. “Okay, now we need to move quickly. I don’t want to spend any more time out here than I have to.” Violet’s horn glowed once again, and a small orb materialized at its tip. The ball shone with a light that wasn’t very bright, but showed the way ahead of them well. “If we head northeast without stopping, then we should reach Withersdale about an hour after dawn.” “Yes, Miss.” Mar said, walking beside her. They walked off into the cold air of night, the open fields stretching before them and the forest behind. Both were tired, but neither felt the desire to sleep. They only walked on in silence, the shock of their encounter with such a creature still not completely processed by their minds. The sun was already shining brightly over the town of Withersdale when two ragged ponies arrived. Withersdale was a newer town, built only four years ago, but was the most thriving and populated one for many miles. The buildings were neat and well built, and the roads were in good condition. Situated in the center of town was a large fountain. Atop the fountain was a statue of Celestia, the God Empress of Equestria. Water flowed from around the statue’s feet, and into the fountain, around which many ponies gathered and carried on their business. The buildings of the town were all centered around the fountain, giving the town a nearly circular shape. Violet and Mar, tired both physically and mentally, looked upon the new stone buildings and brightly painted roofs with great relief. Many bars and restaurants occupied the town, built for the many, and varied, travelers who came through. Violet, however, was only interested in the first building that greeted all newcomers to Withersdale: the inn. The Tiller’s Respite was the largest and most popular inn in Withersdale. It offered a safe place to eat, sleep, and be in good company. Violet walked a little faster to reach the door, followed by Mar, who was visibly unhappy with the change of pace. Violet opened the door and was greeted by a warm and cozy air. The chill of the night was knocked off of the two companions, and both sighed happily. They took in the sight of the fire burning in the fireplace, the large rug laying over the wooden floor, the handful of ponies lounging on couches, and the short Earth pony stallion looking them over from behind the counter to their left. “Miss Violet? Is that you?” The short stallion called out. He made his way out from behind the counter, and trotted over to them. “It is! What happened to you? You’re in such a disheveled state!” “I’m fine, Mister Otus.” She replied, tiredly. “I just need to rest. Are there any open rooms?” “Yes. Upstairs, second room on the left. Two beds are already made. But what happened to you, dear?” “Oh, just a rough night of walking. A few hours’ sleep and everything will be okay.” She looked at Mar. “C’mon. You’re worse off than I am.” “I’ll bring up some hot water and soap in a few minutes!” Mister Otus trotted off through a door to the back of the inn. Violet and Mar walked up the wooden stairs beside the counter to the upper rooms of the inn. There were doors on either side of the hallway that made up the upstairs. Violet opened the door to their room and saw the most welcome thing she had laid eyes on all day. The bed was large and the sheets upon it were clean. She was tempted to jump on it fall immediately into sleep, but was held back by Otus’s suggestion of a bath. Violet and Mar sat their saddlebags down beside the beds, and began to sort through their things. There was a knock outside the open door, and Violet saw Mister Otus and another, younger pony carrying a large tub of steaming hot water. “I hope this is alright.” Mister Otus said, apologetically, as he set the tub down in her room. “We don’t have any running water at the inn.” “That’s fine.” Violet assured. “Thank you.” “I know it isn’t what you’re used to, coming from Canterlot and all.” A very slight hint of jealousy was present in his voice as he spoke the word ‘Canterlot’. He then made a motion with his hoof towards the colt that accompanied him. “Junior, the soap and towels.” The young pony set the towels and a bar of fancy soap next to the tub, along with a small bucket. “Thank you.” Violet smiled at him. He blushed and both he and Otus left the room. “Just come down if you need anything!” Otus called as he left. He closed the door behind him, and Violet turned to the tub of hot water. “Mar, would you-“ She began to say, but noticed Mar had already fallen asleep on one of the beds. “He tries so hard.” She removed her cloak, and shivered at the sudden change of temperature. Using her magic, she levitated the soap to her, and stepped into the tub. The heat of the water was soothing, and she lifted the small bucket to dip in the water. She poured the water over her, rubbed herself down with soap, and rinsed off with more water. She repeated this a few times, and then stepped out of the tub. Drying herself with one of the towels, she walked over to her bed, and plopped down on it. Sleep found her quickly, and not even Mar’s muffled snoring could prevent her from feeling more comfortable than she ever had. A forest, old and dark, reached out across the land. The trees were tall and their canopies blocked out all light from the evening sun. Their roots stretched out, tangled and twisted, over the ground. The trees creaked as they swayed in the wind rushing above the forest. They seemed almost to speak to each other in the darkness. Sounds of the movement of animals could be heard, though not one of the animals made itself seen. Hiding in the brush and twisted roots and branches of the trees, only random pairs of glowing eyes could be seen. A clearing opened up in the thick forest, revealing a small pond fed by a creek. The cool water dripped over rocks, falling over a small waterfall before dropping into the pond. Violet found herself standing in front of the water, staring at her reflection. Her curly purple hair was messy, and she looked very tired. Ripples through the water distorted her reflection, and looking back at her from the surface of the water was now the open maw of a dragon. It roared, and from the water it burst, knocking Violet onto her haunches. The dark green, serpentine body of the monstrous creature grew and grew until it dwarfed the surrounding trees. The beast looked down at the mare; its huge red eyes opened wide in an emotion that could only be described as anger on the most primal level. Its body, long and wingless, gave it the appearance of a snake, but its head was that of a dragon and a dragon’s spines ran the length of the beast. The body of the creature lurched forward, and its mouth opened to reveal teeth the size of a full grown stallion. Its mouth hanging open, the creature leaned back its head and cried out in a horrifying manner. Violet could only cower in absolute fear, closing her eyes from the terrifying sight as the creature roared to the sky. Cold sweat, a knot in her stomach, and searing pain in her head brought her to the ground, attempting to cover her ears. She cried out in fear, tears streaming down her face. “Be calm.” A voice, not terribly loud but extremely powerful called out to her. She became quiet, and looked up to see where the voice came from. Standing in front of her, a large white stag, easily more than three times her height, stood calmly, facing the horrible serpent. An odd quiet fell over the forest as the beast looked upon the deer in anger and confusion. It reared back its head, and let loose another terrible cry. The stag stood calmly still, staring up at the massive creature in defiance. Violet could only close her eyes in pain once again. When her eyes reopened, all was quiet. Her eyes adjusted to the light, and she realized that all she could see was the ceiling. Turning her head, she noticed Mar still sound asleep. The small window in their room no longer provided any light; the day had turned to night. Violet shuddered. That dream… Maybe… She thought silently to herself. No, I should write to the Empress, first. No need to wake Mar up, yet. Violet levitated a quill and parchment from her bag, and began to write. “Dear Empress Celestia…”