What Lies Within
♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
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Chapter 16
What Lies Within
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow
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Fetid steam rose slowly in the midday air, seeping from entrails dashed upon the last of the winter snow. Chip lifted his muzzle, dripping with the deep, purplish-red of troll blood, and spat. He stood silently for a few moments, almost motionless save for his heaving sides. Then he screamed. He stomped his hooves on the prone, still form of the troll before him, slamming them home again and again until the body was a mass of red welts and misshapen limbs. Then he screamed once more, his draconic roar of frustration, anger and pain echoing out across the plains.
Ruff was silently sitting on his rear end as he stared at his paws. He played them back and forth across his vision. Experimentally he plunged his claws into the ground, drawing them up and out, but nothing happened. He did it again and again, finally screwing up his face, clenching his paws and snarling as he pulled. He fell on his back with a yelp, gazing in shock at a diminutive menhir that had sprung up before him. His victory was short lived as he realized none of the rest of his small pack were looking at his triumph. They were staring at Chip.
"You alright, Chip?" asked Bella hesitantly. She stepped back, cocking her head, as the young dragon turned his empty gaze towards her.
"You did what you had to, Chip," said Penny, flaring her wings as Chip looked at her instead. "You couldn't have stopped that changeling. You couldn't have known—"
"Stop," said Chip, voice hollow. "I should have known. And you know why?" The pony-shaped dragon kicked the dead troll again before saying clearly, "I should have known because this piece of filth belonged to me!" He shouted the last three words, glaring at each of his friends in turn. Finally, he whirled towards the town. Taking a deep breath and spreading his wings, he roared into the sky. "Trolls of the Sapphire Reaches! Your master calls!"
There were still echoes bouncing from mountaintop to mountaintop as the last of the diamond dogs from the Sapphire Reaches pack rushed to present themselves to their master. Chip's friends stood aghast as he silently waited, naked rage burning in his gaze. Nobody said a word as Chip stepped forwards into their ranks.
"What am I?" he asked coolly, staring down any troll that dared meet his gaze. "See, I thought I was a dragon. I thought I was your master. But to some of you here, I am... what? An easy target?" Chip stalked through the throng of trolls, some respectfully inclining their heads, others merely hunched over, winded from their mad dash to heed the call of their strange alpha. Chip turned and stalked away, back to the front. "Maybe," he said, "you can ask him!" Chip grabbed a hold of the corpse with his teeth and bodily hurled it into the crowd, the trolls scattering in its wake. It landed with a series of wet thumps, tumbling end over end, coming to rest staring blankly into the sky.
"Chip," hissed Carmine, "by the first egg, what are you doing?!"
Chip ignored her, his stance unwavering, eyes hard and jaw set. There wasn't even any muttering, they knew their place. The bulldog-muzzled creatures dropped to their knees, prostrating themselves before him.
"I see a mere contract isn't enough. Very well." His eyes flashed as he snarled out, in ancient draconic, the ritual spell of enslavement. It was a simple decree, and a promise. They would step into the darkness beyond twilight as truly bonded slaves, or they would pay the price. As his voice faded away, the trolls answered in kind. He felt them as their souls joined with his. It was a faint buzzing in his mind, a weight he couldn't fully explain. Hundreds of voices, whispering fealty, floated through his consciousness. He bowed his head, his heart hardened against the cries of surprise and worry from his friends, and once more stepped forwards. It was something he knew, now, that he should have done at the very beginning. Not because he wanted it, but because they wanted it. They expected it, they needed it. Their inner voices cried out with a joy Chip hated to feel, but could not ignore. It made him sick as he realized these diamond dogs weren't like the others, or ponies, dragons and griffons. These had been bred to be pets. He closed his eyes, fighting off nausea, as he realized what he'd done.
"Chip, I... I don't like this," Carmine said, backing away.
"Me either," said Bella, shying away, her eyes showing their whites. "I know you're hurt, but this... it's too much! Please, Chip!"
Chip turned to them, a mixture of pain, shame and fear in his eyes. "I'm doing this for you! For all of you! For all of Tacksworn!"
"You didn't do this for anybody but yourself!" shouted Carmine, "I don't want to have anything to do with this!" She turned and loped away a few feet before turning back to look at the dragon with a cold expression. "When you've come to your senses, come find me. Until then, I can't look at you."
"Fine," shouted Chip. "Just fine. Go. Run, you traitor."
An angry warbling growl emanated from Carmine, her neck-feathers fluffing up. "I'll let you have that one, Chip, because... because I... l love you. But so help me, I'll gut you like a rabbit if you ever say that to me again." Carmine turned her head quickly away so Chip wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. Loping a short distance, she spread her wings and took to the skies.
Chip watched her go, with a lump in his throat. "Car—" he began, feeling sick to his stomach. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Chip, I'm..." Bella voice tentatively broke the silence. Her ears were flat against her head and her eyes darted about. "I'm gonna head back. My parents... everyone back there, they're gonna want to know what's happened. Come on, guys." Bella waved her horn in the direction of town, glaring purposefully at Penny and Bethany. The pegasus took a hold of Ruff by the scruff of his neck and placed him on her back before hurrying to join her friends as they moved towards town.
Chip was alone, with himself and his actions. He felt sick, tired, worn out, hollow, empty... but he would carry on. It had to be this way. They would understand.
They had to.
"Rise, pets. You please me, unlike this trash." Chip kicked a hoof into the bloodied lump. Stumpy tails wagged surreptitiously. He felt like patting them on the head, nausea washing over him as he realized they sought just that. "I want one thing from you now. I want to know who killed my parents!" He glared around at the crowd, meeting gazes as his shout died away. "I want you to bring me the hides of those who crossed my family, torn from what is left of their broken bodies. Find them, my hounds, and end them. Now go!"
As small groups of older male trolls split off – leaving the young, the weak, the old and the female behind – Chip sat slowly down onto his haunches. He bowed his head, the weight of what he had just begun laying heavily upon his withers.
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There had been many aftershocks since the great quake had swallowed their village and the plateau it had rested upon, but nothing quite so cataclysmic as the first. This was cold comfort, however, as lingering fears kept everyone on edge. Only a scarce paw-full of days had passed since the start of their flight from the burning mountain, days of relative peace, though not without hardships. Akash had pushed the dishevelled remains of his pack mercilessly through the Wild Wood, pausing only briefly for rest, food and water. Many had perished; the very old, the very young, the infirm. There were only three Elders and the Khan left now, and two of the five pack alphas had perished from wounds suffered as they sought to rescue stragglers. Akash felt every death keenly, a weight on his heart; as Dreamer it was his task to escort the dead to their final resting place. That sacred task would have to wait until he finished tending to the living. Mindful of his duty to raise the pack's morale, it was time to provide at least some hope of rescue. Akash cast his gaze about, until he found the hound he was looking for.
The young troll in question was handsome enough to have found a mate, but remained resolutely a bachelor. He was far too enamoured of the freedom such an unattached position afforded him, to settle down. The idleness of peace had put it off, now the chaos and despair held it back. In ancient times, a troll such as he would have already sired many litters to strengthen the tribe. Maybe it was time to ease the issue along, once the current crisis was over
"Stonetalker Grash," called Akash, "another beacon!"
"Why should I?" snarled Grash, loping up to the Elder at the bellowed summons. "Beacon is useless! World ends, who is there left to follow it?" As if to punctuate his words, a crash of thunder rumbled through the valley. The keening wails of the otherwise solemn procession filled the air after. The fear was not unfounded, either. On several occasions, great chunks of flaming rocks had rained down on the fleeing trolls, causing pandemonium.
"Is Grash unable? Too weak? Akash will find another Stonetalker, then." Akash's eyes twinkled with suppressed mirth. He knew how to talk to the impetuous, proud pack member.
Grumbling, Grash crouched down, dug his forepaws into the ground and pulled. A mound of stone sprung up. Digging his claws in it, he marked the menhir with the runic, slashed script of his people, scraping his claws through the stone, curling off slivers. Shattered Hills Pack, it said, escaped from valley of fire. Passed through Wild Wood. 1900 survivors.
"You will be remembered, Grash," promised Akash. "I am Dreamer Akash, I tell you this is so. For a thousand years, your name will be remembered."
"For what?" snarled Grash. "What lies before was great. Here? We are nothing."
"What lies before was great, Grash. What lies ahead is greater still."
Barely mollified, the apprentice Stonetalker turned and loped on towards an uncertain future.
Akash followed. He limped as he plunged his staff into the soft loam of the earth with every few steps. The world was whispering to him. It was safe, for now, but the end of all things was coming in an inexorable tide of destruction. The dreams hadn't lied, but he had known better than to try to outfox them. Those he could send away on fools' errands, he had. They would be safe, or at least they passed beyond the scope of his vision. He prayed to the gods below and above that this meant they were safe, that they would find the Stonedwellers at Bright Quarry, or the Ferry Pack, and live to see whatever new world dawned.
He reached for the Telling Bones, wrapped tightly around the aged staff. His paw pulled roughly on the taut twine until it snapped. Scribing a circle with the tip of his staff, he cast them inside. He squatted down to observe them, confused. They made no sense. Footsteps came closer, and a paw lifted one of the little bones up.
"What is this, Akash?"
"Pug? What are you—" Akash cried in surprise. He swiftly grabbed the bone from the impetuous youth and turned it over and over in his paws. Casting his gaze down to the Telling Circle, he fell down onto his haunches and began to laugh.
"Akash?" asked Pug, confused.
Akash tossed the bone to the young hound. "Keep it. They're no use to me any more."
"I know the bones speak to you, Akash," Pug insisted, "what do they say?"
Akash looked once again at the circle, tears of relief and laughter falling from his eyes. "You will lead them home, Pug. That bone is from the very tip of a Screech-wing's tail. When a chick is born, it uses that bone to stab through the shell. It is the smallest, and yet perhaps the most important. It is yours."
Pug furrowed his brow, the silvery-grey pelted runty youth peering down at the bone in his paws, blue eyes screwed up in concentration. "I don't understand. What do the bones say?"
"They say egg." Akash stood up and closed his paw over Pug's, curling the troll's claw into a tight fist. Then he let go. "I proclaim you an Alpha," Akash said as he straightened up. "We must head to the hills, deep into the caves below. Forak the One-Eyed Demon has stolen the day-star, and his baleful glare will burn us as surely as the fires from beneath or the smoke from above."
"Alpha?" Pug stared at his paw, eyes wide.
"Alpha. Move!"
Hesitantly, Pug nodded. Placing an ear to the ground, he closed his eyes and listened. The caves were not too distant. He would lead the pack there. He scampered off.
Akash picked up his staff from where it had fallen to the ground. Shorn of the Telling Bones, it seemed smaller. Snorting, Akash guessed it was the way of things. He smiled as he began the long trek up the side of the mountain. For the first time, he had hope.
It was hope, however, that proved to be short-lived. He felt it before he saw it, and if a stray gust of wind hadn't punched through the clouds, he would never even have seen it. The daystar was flickering sickly again. Gritting his teeth at a sudden pain between his ears, Akash yelled out to his pack. "Quickly now! Pug the Wise has lead you true! Into the Below!"
The cavemouth was large. It was an ancient stronghold against the thunder-wielders of the Northern plains, unoccupied for generations since the great warriors of the past had vanquished the last of their ancient foes. Akash had chosen the site for two reasons: one, it was ingrained as a place of safety in the tribal memory. Two, it was quite possibly the only place they could go to escape the wrath of whatever illness had befallen the day-star.
Listening to a growing babble of arguments, Akash stormed through the gathered throng as he realized that the pack was not going inside. Snarling in frustration, head still burning with the distant but approaching wrath of the sky-gods, he ripped the skull from the top of his staff. Pulling the teeth from the grinning visage with a single yank of his great paw, he roughly shouldered his way to the very front and scattered the teeth in front of the suddenly-silent crowd.
They spelled safe. It was an easy trick, but it worked. Pug, pointing an accusing claw at the rival alpha who had obstructed him, turned around smartly and trudged inside. "Stay outside if you scared," called Pug.
It was the final straw, and the tide of tired, hungry and scared diamond dogs followed him.
Akash stood aside to let the pack in. He grabbed Grash as he loped past, pulling him close. "Wait with me, Stonetalker Grash. You are needed. Your moment of glory approaches."
Grash, shining black fur and hazel eyes bright, grumbled and snarled as was the way of the young, but waited with the Elder. "What do you want from me, Dreamer?"
"I want you to stand with me, Grash, and witness. Remember this, for the sight will be with you until the end of your days." Akash pointed, as a wall of fire sprung up across the Wild Wood, far in the distance. This far in the hills, the cloud of smoke from the burning mountain had dissipated enough for the balefully glaring sun to be partially visible. Now, the skies were alight with the fairy lights of the rainbow serpent's breath.
The sun, usually warm and yellow in the green sky, was now a baleful red and purple. It looked diseased, with black patches floating across its bloated surface as immense glowing tendrils snaked out towards them. As they watched, one incandescent strand reached groundwards like the bony talons of some huge predator. Where it passed, the world burned.
Grash quailed, mouth dropping open. "What is it that comes, Dreamer?"
"The end of all things, young Grash. And only you can help keep your pack safe."
"What do you want me to do?" the youngster asked.
"I want you to pull the mountain down. Do it now, Stonetalker, save your tribe." Akash placed his paw gently on Grash's shoulder, then turned and hobbled deeper into the caves. "Be at peace, young Grash. I have the Telling of it."
"Are you mad?" Grash swore, tearing his eyes from the devastation below, "These caves do not part easily for even the most powerful of Stonetalkers. I am..."
"If you are incapable of these tasks, tasks which befit an Alpha, then I will have to find another—" Akash called, not stopping.
"You no understand!" wailed Grash after the retreating Elder. "If Grash pull mountain down, we not get out!"
"Trust me, young Grash. I wield the power of a Dreamer. You must trust me, and you must pull the mountain down. If you do not, we will die when the Eye of Forak spies us. Safe in the Below, we will yet live."
"But there is no way out!"
"On my life," said Akash, turning once more to face the youngster, "there is a way out." The old Dreamer turned back and continued his slow, painful walk into the cave, eager that his expression not give away his real feelings. The truth was, he hurt. The journey had taken what few years he'd had left and chewed them up. It wouldn't matter soon.
Grash gulped, watching as the old one rounded the bend. Then he glanced outwards, down the mountain, at the maelstrom below. What he saw made him whimper, and he almost lost his water on the dusty stone. Great pillars of flame descended from the heavens, tongues of fire that licked at the world, gouging out great molten rents. Where they passed, nothing remained but molten slag and glass. There were screams as the final stragglers strove to enter the dubious sanctuary of the caves. "Come! Come all! Most fast! Paws of demon god Forak seek to snatch you up! Flee! Flee to safety!"
Before even the last of the tribe had reached safety, Grash started his work. Heaving with all his might, he scrabbled at the walls, ripping great chunks out of the granite. The trickle was small at first, but rapidly grew bigger and bigger. Suddenly, with a deafening roar, the mountain gave in and a massive sheet of rubble deposited itself over the gaping maw of the chasm. It wasn't a moment too soon, as the tongues of flame licked ever closer. Just as their heat threatened to overwhelm him, he was plunged into darkness.
Whimpering and sobbing, crying to himself in the darkness, Grash rocked to and fro until the panic subsided. Their world had ended, he saw that now. The gods waged war in heaven and on earth, and mere mortals like him were nothing but dust before their grinding engines of chaos. Breathing slowly and deeply until his breaths were even, he wiped his paws across his muzzle and stood up. He was an Alpha, he would act like one. Squaring his shoulders, he headed inwards, towards what meagre safety the great cave system offered.
It didn't take him long to catch up with Akash. He found as he moved deeper into the cave system that the natural lichen that grew over every untouched surface glowed softly in the near pitch-black darkness. His eyes began to adjust, and whilst the light never grew substantial, he could at least see where he was going.
At the young troll's footsteps, Akash began to speak. "Alpha Grash, you will have a hard task ahead of you. You must support young Pug. He is a Dreamer like me, but will not have the teachings."
"But Akash, you—"
"Hush, young one. My time grows short, and spending it on idle chatter wastes it. He does not have the body of a Stonetalker. You must be his body, he will be your head."
"I dislike Pug," growled Grash as he drew level with the shaman.
"You do not need to like him, you merely need to respect him. If you do not respect him then fear me."
Grash looked at Akash, who pulled the toothless skull from his leather shoulder-pack. "The teeth said the caves were safe. This skull isn't. I am a Dreamer, young Grash. Do as I say, or I will send the soul of this drazzig to torment you until you breathe your last."
Grash's black fur turned almost alabaster at the thought, and he shook with renewed fear.
"Be at peace, youngster." Akash stopped momentarily in the darkness, striking his staff on the rock floor. The top burst into flames, reminded of when it had been molten and liquid. It wouldn't last long, but it would last long enough. Akash walked slowly and deliberately towards Grash. The younger troll, eyes wide in shock as the quite possibly mad old hound neared him, backed away in disbelief.
"Be at peace, and trust me," said Akash, placing a withered paw on the younger hound's shoulder.
Grash nodded, swallowing heavily.
The cavern was vast, but the multitudes were many. They were hungry, tired, scared, frightened... and more than a few of them were dying. The air was thick and fetid. Soon it would be foul and unbreathable. They were running out of time. Hours, days... it would not be long, though what they would die from first – the lack of air, food or water – was anyone's guess.
Akash tottered into the cramped space. Heedless of the flames that flickered out around his paws, his ancient staff crumbling to dust, Akash bent to pick up the gemstones as they fell from their seatings. At the sudden return to darkness, many of the females and younglings started wailing. This wailing ceased once Akash Spoke to the gems. They lit up, one after another, cradled in his paws.
"Packmates," Akash said, voice echoing through the dimly-lit, dusty cavern. "Today is the final day of our flight. You will be led to safety. There will be no more running, there will be no more destruction. There will also be no return. The old world has passed away in fire and ice—"
At the chattering and arguing which rapidly grew in volume, Akash raised his paws for silence, lifting the glowing jewels with them, their light casting strange, multi-coloured shadows throughout the enclosed space.
"Those of you who wish to, may remain here, to see what of our doomed realm has survived. It is our way, and you may yet survive. What lies before was great, I know this, but what lies ahead is greater still. Follow the alpha that your heart tells you to."
"Follow them where?" came a cry. It was the Khan. At first, Akash thought him stubborn, but then he realized the old hound was being wily. His time was as ended as the world's was, and he would step aside the only way he knew how. "There is nowhere to go! I will stay here. I will wait until the air grows thin, until my bones cry out for food and water, and then I shall leave for the surface. Those of you who wish may follow me. Or you may follow a fool into destruction." The pack leader crossed his paws and bared his fangs, a resolute expression on his face.
Akash took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, meeting the old alpha's gaze and giving a knowing nod. Then he went to find Pug. He found the young alpha facing off against Grash. He pointedly ignored other demands for his attention and instead glared at the two youngsters until they got the hint and sheepishly ceased bickering.
"Grash, you are the body of the pack. Pug, you will be the head. I speak not of leadership or dominion of each other, but of the hounds that will follow you. I pronounce you brothers, young alphas, bonded with blood that you have each shed for the pack. Will you take this task for me?"
Silently, Grash and Pug shared glares. The glares softened, and they nodded.
"Good. Give me your paws." Akash gestured for the right paw of each alpha. The two youngsters held them out, gritting their teeth in anticipation. Taking one of the glowing gems, Akash slit their palms, pulling the wounds apart until they bled. Nodding with satisfaction, he pressed their two paws together. "You are now blood brothers, bonded as surely as if you had shared a womb and a mother." Standing up and proffering them each his treasures, he cleared his throat and spoke again. "Now, take these gems, and stand back."
Not understanding, wincing as their wounds parted and bled again, Pug took two of the gems and Grash the other three. They watched, bemused, as the old troll approached the bare rock wall. He turned, holding up his paws for silence once more. When the rabble had calmed to mere murmurs and grumblings, he spoke.
"Behold now, packmates, the power of a Dreamer. Within these paws I hold Stonetalking, Gemspeaking, Bone Telling, Healing... and Dream Walking." At his last words, the pack grew silent. He studied them wordlessly for a few moments, then carried on.
"Now, then, is the genesis of your choice. Pass through, or stay."
"Pass through where, Dreamer?" asked the Khan.
Inwardly, Akash smiled to himself. He would now prove the old Khan unworthy to rule, by demonstrating his lack of knowledge. His glee was tinged with sadness, for he knew what it would mean for the old alpha. "Behold, then, doubter, as I part the seams of the world itself."
So saying, Akash turned to the rockface and thrust his paws forwards. Grasping the rock in great bulging lumps, he pulled. In the crack that grew between his paws burst light; reds, greens, blues, yellows – the bright light was blinding compared to what had been almost total darkness a moment before. Nothing but brilliance could be seen beyond the fantastic aurora.
Fighting against what looked like a torrent of energy, little bolts of lightning dancing across his fur as it stood up and out, Akash dug deeper and deeper, forging sanity from the whirling madness. He hadn't gone far when he stumbled and fell to his knees. Before anybody could lift a paw to help him up, however, he rose on his own. Gritting his teeth, he plunged his fists into the boiling clouds of energy once more, and ripped them asunder. From out of the confusion and madness, another crack split in the infinite reaches of whatever nether-space the old hound trod upon. With a rippling explosion of heat and sensation, the presence of another world made itself known. Fresh air flooded into the cavern, along with bright sunlight that shone warmly down from a deep azure sky.
Almost a thousand noses turned up to savour the sweet air, the fragrances of a green and verdant world of plenty.
From his standpoint in the middle of nowhere, suspended on what were little more than glowing clouds of multicoloured light, Akash turned and addressed the pack for one last time. Great strain showed on his muzzle as he looked over the gathered throng with a finality which was bone-chilling. "You must choose now, children of the Shattered Hills. I shall pass on, alone, to commune with those who have gone before and lead them to their rest. My Dreaming ends this day, my children, for I am weary. But for the rest of you, it is a new beginning. Make your peace, make your choice, and make your move."
♠♣♥♦
Sharptooth wasted no time with his landing. He slammed into the ground like a meteor, the blastwave a peal of thunder rolling across the plains. The force made the earth shake. The smell of his sulfurous breath alone was intimidating enough to clear his path, and his leathery wings furling made Chip shiver with fear. His friends had long since scattered, heading back for town and what relative safety it offered.
Sharptooth eyed the trolls meandering around the area, then turned his attention to his son. He took a deep breath and sighed, his anger turning to bitter disappointment in an instant. "What did you do?"
Chip was silent for a moment, before straightening up. He looked at a particularly interesting mountain in the distance. "I did what I had to do, dad! They killed my parents! They tried to kill me!"
"I felt your magic, young one. Did you think you could swear an oath like that without your clan-head knowing?" Sharptooth wasn't just walking around his son. He was stalking. Anger, barely restrained, meant great rents were torn from the bedrock by his claws.
Chip's top lip curled back, but it was no pony gesture.
"Careful, boy." Sharptooth growled low, unable to help himself. "I told you that you would one day feel rage. I cautioned you against it mastering you, many moons ago. Control yourself, calm yourself when you address me." Sharptooth's words were not unkind, but they were no less forceful for it.
Chip visibly deflated. Even his wings drooped. He trotted forwards, head bowed low, presenting himself for judgement. "They killed my parents, Dad," he said, eyes on the ground. They were wet with tears when he looked back up, silently begging forgiveness from his adopted father. "They killed my parents and then they tried to kill me and my friends. They stole the book, a book about diamond dogs. I... we tried to stop them."
"I know, lad. The smell of blood is thick along your trail. Tell me, then. What are your intentions with your new... pets?"
Chip turned, gazing at the few remaining trolls. Some half dozen adults and a gaggle of pups who had made the trip with their kin busied themselves with make-work – gathering sticks for firewood, tending to desert plants as if they were a garden, some were even sweeping the dirt from the path Chip had forged into piles – as they fought to impress their bonded master. Some wagged their tails expectantly. "They are good pets," he said finally. "They please me."
"That is no answer," growled Sharptooth. "I would you had not done this, Chip. Equestria was founded on equality and egality. The great Pax Equestrus was written to keep the races that dwell within this realm on equal footing, and now my very own son risks breaking that covenant." Chip hung his head as the older dragon's gaze bored into him. "Do you know what you have done?"
"What?" Chip whispered.
"You will have displeased Celestia, diarch of this realm, who has at her beck and call the armies of this nation. You will have angered the one who raises the sun, who wields the powers of the heavens themselves. She does not suffer rebellion lightly."
Chip gulped. "B-but—"
Sharptooth continued, voice level, tone biting. "You have raised an army of your own, on her soil, from subjects of a foreign, sovereign state. You have taken trolls you merely controlled and bent them to your will, and you lay your geas upon them in defiance of her decrees to the contrary."
"What will she do?" Chip's voice was small.
"To break the Pax Equestrus?" Sharptooth let the name of the great agreement which almost single-hoofedly meant peace between all citizens of the realm, hang in the air. "Nothing, overtly. But know this – you walk a knife edge, young dragon, and her ire will be felt. Your personal might is not sufficient to shield you from the full wrath of the solar princess. Your link to the draconic hegemony is tenuous at best and succour there will be minimal. What else do you have? Where else could you flee? You have little but your meagre force of diamond dogs. Would you dwell amongst them, then, should the free peoples of Equestria turn their back against you?"
Chip shook now, in fear. "What was I supposed to do?!" he wailed.
Sharptooth lifted his great head to stare skywards. He was silent for a good few minutes. "You have done what you should have done that night when you took your place as prospective clan-head of the Sapphire Reaches. These trolls are tainted with the blood of another—"
"A dragon!" Chip hissed, excitement cutting through his panic and shame. "I... I couldn't make that one do as I say. He said he already had an owner, and it wasn't the changelings."
Sharptooth closed his eyes, deep in thought. He opened them again and wandered over to the remains of the dead alpha. "This one bears a familiar mark, and I did not realize its import. Forgive me, young one."
"What? Why?"
Sharptooth rolled the body over, picking at the remains of the troll's clothes until the back of the hound's neck was visible. "When you took them for your own, you marked them, but you did not take them as my scion. You took them as thralls of the Sapphire Reaches. It is that mark your magic chose." Sharptooth pointed a single, wicked talon at the odd collection of jewel-like shapes seemingly sunk into the flesh of the dead alpha.
Chip stared at it. The magic knew, somehow, something he had felt but not understood properly. It confused him still. He looked expectantly at his father. The elder dragon stared at the body for a moment, then turned to a nearby group of trolls.
"You," said Sharptooth to a random troll, a bitch he noted. "Come. Kneel." Sharptooth watched silently as the troll did as she was bid. He eased her lanky hair out of the way, and gently angled her head forwards.
Chip looked down at an identical mark on her neck. "...It's the same. But I never put it on the other one, how can that be?"
Sharptooth emitted a sound somewhere between a sigh and an angry growl. "It reveals the identity of your adversary, my boy. Our adversary. It can only be the Lady Akhekhu, ancient matriarch of sapphire. I had thought her moved on from such things."
"But I-I'm the clan head, I thought?"
Sharptooth laughed hollowly, "Dragons do not stand on such petty occurences and happenstances. One may try to take what one wishes, but it is in the proving that title is held. Her magic dwarfs yours and mine, she imbues the Sapphire Reaches clan with her essence in a way you do not. Should she have claimed a thrall living within Tacksworn, I would not know. Now, however, should one not pledge him or herself to you, your pets will deal with them. Swiftly and mercilessly."
"What about the changeling?"
"Did it escape?"
"It was pursued by... some other troll."
"One of hers, no doubt. By nightfall it will be the last within a hundred miles of the borders of Tacksworn. I shall contact Thrinn, I suggest you mobilize your forces. Catch either or both of them at all costs, and should Celestia catch wind of this? Throw yourself on her mercy."
Chip squeaked. "She won't banish me? Or lock me up? Or lock me up in the place she banishes me to?"
"She may, but you will fare utterly better than if you dare stand against her, my boy. She has more years than either of us put together. She is neither ignorant nor cruel, but she is ruthless. Do not cross her."
"Any more than I already have."
"Quite." Sharptooth shook his head, jaws working as he clenched his teeth, his tongue flicking rapidly. "You have done a great wrong today, but I hold you blameless."
"Wrong?" Chip whimpered.
"It is a rot which has seeped into the heart of our nation, to hold sway over the very souls of others. Long have we prospered, us dragons, on our strength and honesty alone. It is that same honesty which is our undoing, for in brutal truth there is often no compassion. Because we can hold the lives of others between our claws, we do. We seldom stop to consider whether we should. Akhekhu does not, and so she moves her pieces upon the board, and in turn moves you. You're a pawn in a far larger game, larger than Equestria. It is a game that few other than dragons can play, and it is one you are forced to participate in."
"But I didn't want any of this! I just wanted... even Celestia just wanted me to be safe!"
"If you hadn't been brought to me, son, you would have been killed. Or worse. If I hadn't made you a dragon, you would have been snuffed out like a candle. I wonder how many of my own actions were fate, or were dictated by another."
"Who? Celestia?"
"Perhaps. There was, however, only one move you could make. And it is for this reason alone that I do not rip your throat out where you stand and deliver your remains to the princess and beg her forgiveness."
Chip blanched. "I... I was scared. I didn't mean... I just wanted—" The young dragon sniffled and gulped, great coughing hiccups as he fought for breath, panic tearing into him and tears rolling down his muzzle as his composure fell.
"This scares me too. Your quick and painless end would be preferable to the rage of the sun-goddess." Sharptooth's voice was flat and emotionless, the disgust plain in every aspect.
Chip broke down, falling to his knees and then curling up in a ball. "I don't... I don't want to die! I don't want to end up in a box under the earth in the dark! I don't want to be alone! I don't want to hurt! I don't w-want to be b-banished or b-butchered! I just want to go home!" Chip thrust his head between his legs and a hoof in his mouth, rocking back and forth, and for the first time in months, cried for a mother who could never come.
Sharptooth wrapped himself around his son, and for the first time in many centuries, cursed his draconic heritage.
♠♣♥♦
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I'm fine with anything you might want to say about me, and the chapter turned out great. It's a wonderful feeling knowing that I played a small part in helping to create a part of one of my favorite stories.
Still awesome!
Just thought of this: What was before was great...
Might be a tad bit less awkward.
2025463
Also, what he said. I'm honored that you let me help out on this amazing story.
I swear Midnight, if you keep writing Diamond Dogs this awesome I might have to bap you. It worked with Braeburn, it'll work with you
The flashbacks were awe-inspiring and total winning.
i.imgur.com/Xd8Ox.jpg
2025506 Na, leave the line as is, some awkward is allowed for the sake of parallelism.
Also I am fine with any shout outs, even though I'm new to the team, and haven't earned my keep yet. Still great chapter, I look forward to working with you
2026043
NO, YOU SHALL CHANGE TO REFLECT MY WILL!!
2026105
You sir, have forced my hoof.
i.min.us/ijswHg.jpg
Now repeat after me. Parallelism is good.
2026135
Parallelism is good.
2026152 Good pony. Now have a cookie.
thatsnerdalicious.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/My-Little-Pony-Cookie-Cutters1-600x450.jpg?cb5e28
2026157
images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/32500000/Cookie-Om-nom-nom-my-little-pony-friendship-is-magic-32505811-500-500.jpg
2026314
Jake The Army Guy uses Pic!
Pic Fizzels!
A wild AntiquatedAnnomaly Escapes!
2026367
should've pressed up+b
2026043
DUUUUUDE...
You're on the editing team of "The King of Diamonds"?
Anyways, awesome chapter.
Pissing off Celestia is probably going to be a Very Bad Thing.
Also, the description of Chip's acquisition was amazing.
PM to follow.
2026371
Wat? I'm afraid to ask "What's up+b" because I may be walking into a trap. But I really have no idea what up+b is.
2026387
I still don't know if it actually works, but the word on the street was, when playing the original pokemon on gameboy, that if you pressed up and b on the control pad whilst throwing a pokeball, it had a higher/certain chance of capturing a pokemon.
2026373
I was going to rub in in your's and Marzipan's faces, but you found me out. Midnight was giving people trial runs, and for some reason that escapes me, I made the cut.
2026398
Currently showing why you're worthless.
JK
But I am PMing him a pile of edits.
With the revelations about where the diamond dogs came from, I'm suddenly wondering about the ponies. When they ran from the windigos, did they start on another planet as well?
Also, holy crap Chip, that's the way to pick a political fight with Celestia.
I'm loving his news wings.
2025463
Yeah, pretty much ditto. I only had a hoof in the most recent chapter, but I'm glad to have been able to contribute what I could.
Holy silver shoes of Luna, this was a gut-ripper of a chapter, and I am not referring to the remains of that troll. Chip is well stuck-in now.
I have no idea where you will ultimately take this, and that is awesome.
Edge. Of. My. Seat.
Also, you have made diamond dogs cool to me.
Carmine finally confessed her love, but under such circumstances! I have put my tray-table in the upright, locked orientation, and my head is between my knees in crash position, because it looks like everything is going down, repeat, everything is going down...
At first I thought maybe the dog's sun was going nova, then I thought, maybe a passing black hole is gobbling it, and now - I am wondering if we are talking eldrich horror! In whatever case, it was magnificent, to see it through the dog's eyes, and the opening of the way was amazing.
Lead on, oh golden-worded master story teller!
2026878
Sorry bro!
Chapters are about as long as they need to be, really - most won't be far above 6k, and very few will be above 8k-10k.
I would suggest stopping mid-way when the ♠♣♥♦ characters show up, since they're manageable scene breaks
...what? Dude, we're all honoured we get to contribute to this story. Why in Equestria would we object to being credited?
2029988
I don't know, but I don't want assume that everyone wants a hoof pointing in their direction going THERE, THAT'S THE ONE.
I'll expand later
2030005
If there's anything people generally object to, it's not being credited, you know
2028967I'm still flabbergasted by the prospect of a pregnant pony going on adventures.
2030063
to be fair, ponies are pretty hardy, and being pregnant doesn't really bother them for the first 6+ months of their term. By that chapter, Hairpin's been pregnant a month, tops. By chapter 16, she's about 6-7 months in. It still won't be bothering her, but she won't be going very far.
Um, no reaction, beyond emotional turmoil, FUBAR is an acronyme that fits this situation pretty well. I wonder why you're puting him through all this?
So Chip's now got no friends, no birth family, his adopted father wants to (literally) bite off his head, and now Princess Celestia might be gunning for him too, even tough he was the one DEFENDING the Pax Equestrus and the peace. WTF!?
All for no intelligible reason, just.... what the hell.
Honora Imperator
Of course! All I did was rip a troll's throat out after he taunted me about killing my parents. No big deal.
Interesting though how it's apparently the ponies who get over staring at him in shock first. Ponies aren't generally very accustomed to such gory displays.
Yeah, this is definitely a new chapter in Chip's life. The Chip I knew would not take slaves to have control over them. The Chip I knew would not kill except to defend himself or those close to him. The Chip I knew would certainly not send his slaves out to get his revenge for him.
The Chip I knew is probably gone for good, even once the current situation is resolved.
If I was in Chip's situation, I would probably gather up my diamond dogs and look for a nice, remote land beyond the influence of insane creatures of great power like Celestia or the dragons.
Also, geez Sharpie! Chip lived most of his life as a pony, and there's absolutely no way you could expect him to know everything about dragon or even pony law. Expecting a child to make the best choice when such difficult decisions are placed before him is a great folly and very unwise.
I see what you meant by the chapters being like a roller-coaster ride...but I dare to ask...wood or metal...right or wrong, hes perilously close now to falling to either side, and now you lay bare one of the greater points and failings of his heritage, and once again, that which had been covered in the dark of naivety is brought to the ugly truth of light itself.