Across miles upon miles of a white, misty sea, mountain-peaked islands dotted across a sun-kissed horizon that sat under an empty blue sky. With barren rock covered in layers of thick snow and lacking any sort of shores, these mountainous islands were clustered close together across the cloudy sea like an archipelago in the sky, their peaks rising high out of the raging blizzard that enshrouded the rest of the land below with a white haze of blistering winds, where under the densely-packed labyrinth of mountain ranges that comprised the Eastern Mountains could be found.
Deep within this labyrinthine range of towering peaks that were over-flooded with the suffocating cold of the blizzard wind, there was a grand temple built into the side of one of the range's taller mountains. Like a bird's nest in the crook of a tree-branch, this temple of fine red wood and golden-etched carvings was nestled securely within the crevice of the mountain's ledge, weathering the blizzard that raged against it like a galloping wendigo—just as it's done against all blizzards for centuries past.
Within the confines of the temple, an orchestra of candles could be found dancing along the walls, their exuberant, little flames spectacularly fighting against the interior darkness just as well as the racketing walls battled to keep the harsh winds outside. Despite this constant and violent struggle against the forces of nature, the old temple exuded nothing but serenity from out of its woodwork; its isolation from the rest of the world allowing it to be a place of conjuring of thought and introspection for the soul.
But now the temple rang hollow, the hammering blizzard against the wooden walls echoing throughout the interior without opposition: the occupants of this temple's school of thought gone and long away from roaming these halls.
Now only a teacher remained.
Inside the temple's entrance, where its walls and four center columns were completely engraved with grand colors of repeating patterns, where golden statuettes eternally posed in the corners of the chamber, and where fine tapestries of color hung from the ceiling, there sitting alone in the center of the chamber was a llama. He was a very old llama, with fur mottled grey and a face so wrinkly that it was a wonder how he could see at all from behind the flabs of skin that drooped over his eyes—the bushy eyebrows so common of llamas not helping one bit. Draped in a crimson and yellow robe, the old llama was positioned comfortably over a pool of sand; a small, wooden, rake-like brush in his muzzle that he used to trace through the particles of sand, trails of flowing waves being left behind in the sand as he did so.
Setting his wooden tool down next to him, done with the finer details of his work, the old llama looked over his efforts.
In addition to the jagged lines of rocks and the explosive sprays of foam, the flowing trails in the pool of sand all added up to a beautiful image of waves, frozen in time as they crashed against a rocky shoreline in spectacular display.
The corners of the old llama's mouth curved upward in a smile, glad to have finally finished his work.
Suddenly, without moving his head, one of the llama's ears swiveled in the direction of the massive doors that served as the temple's grand entrance, and he quickly realized that he had finished his work just in time too, before the inevitable happened.
At the temple's entrance-way, the massive, colorfully-engraved wooden doors that towered all the way to the temple's ceiling unexpectedly burst wide open, inviting in the blizzard like a rowdy guest. Clumps of snow poured onto the floor as the cold wind sailed deeper into the temple, its chilling indifference to the lives of others flapping the llama's robes wildly and kicking up tufts of sand within the sediment pool as it passed by.
Swiftly following behind the blizzard's rude entry came a robed equine that appeared out of the white haze of snow outside, completely wrapped up in a thick cloak that was weathered by the harsh winds. Looking around and quickly seeing how much trouble the blizzard's rowdy behavior was causing, the cloaked equine promptly rushed to close the massive doors behind him, their loud groans of old age creaking out of their hinges and echoing throughout the temple halls as they were slowly forced shut by the equine.
When the doors were finally sealed closed again and the blizzard thrown out like a drunken lout, the old llama glanced down to find that the drawing in the sand had all but disappeared in the wind.
But the old llama was not at all perturbed by this sudden development, not at all distraught at his hours of work gone in a second, instead he just picked up another of his wooden tools—larger and placed between his forelegs—and set about again on the sand, that same content smile from before still on his face.
As the old llama worked, the clanging of metal and the clacking of hooves approached him, before stopping on the opposite side of the pool of sand to reveal the cloaked pony in weathered layers of brown cloth. Sitting down on his haunches, the pony removed his hood to reveal a young stallion, black of coat and wearing a gold-colored helmet that covered his mane. Silently, with violet eyes, the pony watched the llama work.
Concentrating on crafting the sand before him, the elderly llama did not spare a moment to greet his guest.
Without a word, the armored stallion sat patiently.
Outside, the brushing of the blizzard winds against the temple walls echoed around them.
"...So," finally spoke up the old llama in a calm voice that creaked with age, not once ceasing in his work, "...she's on her way then."
Across the pool of sand, the young stallion sat with his back straight in attentive readiness, before giving a curt nod of his head toward the old llama, "Yes," he answered.
For a moment, the elderly llama made no indication that he had heard the stallion's response. He only kept silently working at the sand, his attention solely focused on the flowing shapes and trails he was crafting in the loose sediment, before finally...
"And she sent you to keep me company until then," stated the wise, old llama, his tone making it clear that he was not asking a question.
Regardless, the stallion gave his answer anyways with a short nod, "She did."
The wood trailing in the pool of sand paused in its work.
Staring silently down at the pool of still sand, the corners of the elderly llama's lips twitched just a bit higher, "That Mare..." he uttered under his breath with a tone of pleasant unsurprise, fond memories flowing out of those two words as he once again resumed his efforts in expertly shaping the sand.
As the old llama worked, the young stallion glanced around at the empty temple he was in; his eyes drifting over the flapping tapestries that hanged from the ceiling, the shining gold statuettes of long-gone llamas of the past, and of the multitude number of candles along the walls that the stallion was slowly realizing must have been all lit by the lone, elderly llama before him, "Where is everypony?" he asked, turning his attention back to said llama.
"Gone," answered the old llama curtly, before further elaborating in a sagely tone "I sent all my old students off on a quest to find the undiscovered Scrolls of Experience."
Blinking once, the stallion scrunched his eyebrows down in confusion, "The Scrolls of Experience?" he pondered aloud, "What are those?"
Creaky chuckles danced across the pool of sand, hints of amused hysteria on its heels, "Nothing! Made it up on the spot when they asked," answered the old llama, a big smile stretching the aged fur on his face, "I just wanted them off the mountain so I could kick the bucket in peace. Thought I might as well trick them to stop wasting their lives in these walls and get them to go out and experience more of life while I was at it," he cackled humorously, elderly amusement filling the air, "but don't worry, they're a smart bunch. I'm sure they'll figure it out ...eventually" he paused, before shrugging indifferently, "...or not. Either way, I'm sure at the end of this they'll all have Scrolls of Experience of their own that they can use to teach their own students with."
A small military smirk grew on the young stallion's muzzle as he heard the elder's words, familiarity of the old llama's methods tickling his funny bone, "You'd give the Mare of Laughter a run for her bits."
Chuckling the only way that a wise, old sage could, the elderly llama nodded in agreement, "She always was a better teacher than she liked to let on." When his chuckling let up, the old llama raised his head up to the young stallion, "...Speaking of teachers, how's yours?"
The young stallion met the old lama's gaze, "She's kind," he answered with complete seriousness.
Wise, elderly llamas apparently loved to chuckle sagely when given the chance, "Indeed," chuckled the old llama, amused, "but what about you? How did you end up as one of hers?"
Violet eyes flickered away before quickly returning back to the old llama, "...By learning to be kind," the stallion answered just as seriously as before.
The wood trailing in the pool of sand once again paused in its work.
"Oh, come now, don't disappoint her," spoke the llama as he stared directly at the young stallion, a hint of sternness in his tone, the same type of sternness that teachers explicitly saved for students that they know aren't giving their best, "out of all of her retinue, she specifically asked you to come up here and keep me company," he returned his attention back to the sand, once again focused on tracing beautiful art from out of the lowly particles of earth, "...and I'm sure she's made mention of the type of stories that I enjoy listening to."
Sighing, the young stallion removed his helmet and set it on the floor next to him, revealing his white mane that contrasted sharply with his dark coat. Rubbing a hoof through his mane, he made contact with the growth of green vines and bright buds that grew out from between his strands of hair.
"Well," started the stallion, his violet eyes far away, "I suppose it began when my mother received a letter of condolence from the Equestrian Guard..."
I am quite happy to see this fic posted; I have awaited Fluttershy's installment for a while. So far, it looks awesome.
Okay, little bit of a tangent her but,
Loyalty's blessed get a rainbow aura, Honesty's glowing eyes, and Generosity's a sparkly coat, what physical attributes are granted to those blessed by Kindness, Laughter, and Friendship? If you don't mind saying of course.
Good story so far by the way, are you sure that llama's not a troll?
6659463 maybe they get to understand animals? or the environment?
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Based on what the soldier guy was messing with in his hair... Laurels?
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Not sure about Fluttershy or Twilight, but I have a guess for Pinkie's blessing, based on her appearance in Living Forever. In that, Pinkie was described as having a mane made of literal cotton candy, so I think anyone she deems worthy would get something for their mane. Probably not an edible mane, but perhaps an expressive one that is beyond standard control.
6659482 Um, I meant physical modifications, not abilities.
6659551 Please, if anything they gain a hammer space accessed via their mane.
6659594 wait, Honesty’s blessed have glowing eyes??? how could I misunderstood that? I only read about being able to see the true heart of ponies!!!
That's why I couldn't understand loyalty and Generosity... I have to reread everything again!!!
jeez, i havent read your last one yet!
I'll get to it soon though
6659611 Well, they don't glow that brightly, more like their irises are really colorful.
And why are you talking like rereading these is a bad thing?
6659784 I love to reread stories, I just hate to miss the little details, but mostly depend on how tired my eyes are, usually in long fics my eyes are to tire to pay attention to details by the end of the chapter, so I read them fast and lightly and then when I feel better I read them again, which I can't do right now. But there are in my favourites and read them as soon as I can.
Excellent start!
I cackled when I read that he sent them on a quest for the undiscovered Scrolls of Experience. I knew a snipe hunt when I read it. And they will discover the Scrolls of Experience when they realize what he did.
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Guesses
Kindness: Voice
Laughter: An invisible aura of Happy
Magic: A 2 foot horn
...Wait.
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Kindness would be ...
6660084 Missed that, Laughter and Friendship are still up for debate though
That is a really well done bit of description to set the scene!
Already the like is earned for having a nice opening. Tracking so I can await the others!
6660084 It's one of those things that sounds cool but seems kind of like a pain to deal with after a while. Are the plants shampoo tolerant? Do buds get ripped out every time he brushes his mane? Does sap get everywhere when he gets a hair cut? When the buds open up to flower in Spring do they attract bees? The bees will probably recognize him as a chosen of Kindness and never sting but the constant buzzing would get grating eventually.
I wonder what all the blessings on a single pony at once would look like? It's unlikely to happen. They'd be unlikely to dump all that power (and the responsibilities and stress that go with it) on just one individual. If a situation came up that a mortal champions would be better suited to handle than themselves they would probably prefer to put together a team of friends rather than supercharge a single individual.
But in a hypothetical scenario where that is in fact the best thing to do and they find somepony who has a strong enough connection to all six elements, what would happen?
I have a strange question, that for all the good these elements do for the equestrians. (And it seems like quite a bit.) This seems to be the first real one that is seeking to focus heavily on another close equinoid and non-equestrian in the story. But, in doing so, have they turned their home to something the world itself despises? How much have they sought to do for the world at large to give to the same? (I read generosity, and the draconians are equestrian at heart.)
You had the war of honesty, and it seemed that such prosperity had a price. As it does in spikes choice of story here too.
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...I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. Are you asking whether or not the other races in the setting have become jealous of the ponies because of all of the divine beings belonging to their race? Because if so...
Equestria is a big place, but the rest of the world is much, much bigger. And to think that Equestria is the only place with spirits of power and divine beings casually walking around like it's nothing but a Sunday morning is a very naive thought.
Also, an aside to a little, fun lore fact that I've just now decided to torture my readers with: Hey, you guys remember that Zebrican-Equestrian War that was hinted at in Honesty's story?
The Equestrians didn't win that war.
...Have fun with that.
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Uh...
screencrush.com/442/files/2013/06/captain-planet-01.jpg
—Okay, okay, okay. Serious question, serious answer: considering the fact that the Mares of Harmony are essentially the Elements of Harmony reborn as ponies, a pony to be graced by all six—which, considering that how a pony becomes Graced is by learning to overcome a serious flaw in their character that would allow them to truly be loyal, generous or what have you, would mean that this pony would have some serious social deficiencies that would require all six of the Mares to help him/her overcome (which is the best reason as to why this isn't going to happen in this universe)—a pony to be able to be graced by all six would, as far as I could tell, probably have to be the actual incarnation of the Tree of Harmony; i.e. Harmony itself.
So...
pre02.deviantart.net/161d/th/pre/f/2014/079/0/8/return_to_harmony_by_heilos-d7awsoi.png
...Either that or Voltron.
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So if you're a well adjusted pony who already possesses one or more of the virtues if full, No Superpowers For You
6660751 I was asking if the nature of turmoil that is plaguing equestria via war was out of a perceived richness that it had. We only have an equestrian viewpoint to each of these stories. Each action for the most part of these problems set relatively far into the past.
I thank you for the lovely assumption there. When I simply asked on what we have as a perspective on seeing from, and can interpret from what we have from these angles. Nothing more, nothing less.
Sorry, but shouldn't that just be multitude of candles? It was bugging me.
Might wanna merge this somehow.. I think the second one isn't a real sentence?
Just finished reading through your collection of wonderful stories. By the time I was half done with Loyalty I had already decided to fave them all. You seem to have a real gift with the written word, and I hope you'll keep putting it to good use! Looking forward to Laughter's installment.
I don't say this often, but this story set and it's beautifuly crafted world, needs it's own group. I've read all upto this story and I wanna read more about this world you've managed to flesh out. Really looking forward to the rest of them!
The link of the pic is mismatched - the souerc shows something completely different.
btw gonna read it immediately after previous inste;lmenst
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Don't worry, guys, I'll keep writing in this beautiful world of mine so long as I have great readers like you guys for me to entertain.
Some constructive criticism: you try too hard with your descriptive language. It's so long and flowery that it distracts from the story rather than enhances it. The best descriptive prose is short and to the point. I like to use Zora Neale Hurston's novel Their Eyes Were Watching God as an example of great descriptive imagery. It's very sparing but still flows perfectly with the rest of the story, always enhancing the scene rather than covering it up.
Very good work, loved the Llama's quest of seeking the 'Scrolls of Experience'.
Looking forward to future updates.
Damn I'm catching up on the main installments.....
Most likely will wait about the others till main series is done as i want to see descriptions and who they are in their own stories first before getting the extra bits.
Just have to wait the longest for the one I want the most lol.