Stay a while and listen...
Evergreen was a hold of moderate size, situated in the southwestern reaches of Equestria where it watched a wide swath of deep forests and craggy hills, known for harboring all manner of unnatural occurrences. Creatures warped by aberrant magic, spirits of rock and bough awoken by passing chance, powerful materials and ingredients found nowhere else, all these things and more the wardens of Evergreen guarded, that no strange harm might pass them by into Equestria itself.
While small, the hold was also prosperous, after a fashion. Those things which were not outright dangerous were often quite valuable, pelts for the tanners, blossoms for the brewers, metals for the smiths, woods for the carpenters. It was a place where fortune could be found, if one was keen, and kept, if one was wary.
Now, humans have a certain reputation for being dour, at least by ebullient pony standards. But the hunters of Evergreen Hold came by that descriptor honestly. They were downright suspicious outside of their clifftop hold, always looking back and forth and up and down to check if they were being stalked by some forest-born creature.
Thus was it a great surprise when these supremely wary frontiersmen found that something had been creeping into the hold without their knowing!
No one had been harmed, or replaced, they'd been exceedingly careful to verify that, but people were reported having been seen in more than one place at once, by multiple reliable witnesses. Things were moved about, a book left in one place replaced (wrongly) on the shelf, a cookpot prepared for stew filled with tea, harvested potatoes reburied in the ground. Little nuisances such as might be caused by an over-helpful child.
So of course a great storm of paranoia gripped the hold, everyone going about with at least two companions, nighttime patrols roaming the streets, children shepherded carefully in their homes. No weaknesses, no opportunities allowed for tragedy or disaster to slip in.
And, the stirrings ceased. Seemingly between one breath and another, the hold was left unmolested, without so much as a barley leaf disturbed.
And, after another fortnight's careful watch, the Hold slowly relaxed back to its usual business. The intruder, whatever it might have been, was gone. Then, one day, something happened again. Bouquets of wildflowers appeared on every doorstep overnight, haphazardly collected and almost sheepishly presented.
Evidently, whatever was out there was not hostile, it had had ample opportunity before and now to cause harm. If it had wished the hold ill, there was very little they could do to prevent it. So with something of a collective grunt and shrug, the inhabitants chose to warily get on with life.
From then on Evergreen Hold played resigned hosts to unseen visitors, who the hunters eventually started to call "the kindly folk" after a pattern of well-intentioned mischief became evident. The kindly folk seemed to wish to be helpful, but they rarely seemed to entirely understand what "helpful" sould be. A woman might come home from market to find the house well-swept, but the furniture arranged according to some strange idea of "convenience" and all of the dust in the house collected tidily in a washtub.
They were also incurable matchmakers, constantly forging notes and leaving flowers in an effort to bring seemingly random folk together, once even impersonating both parties at different times so as to invite the both of them to a prepared picnic.
The wary hunters were aflame with curiosity, they knew every trick of camouflage the forest had ever produced, and they had their ways of detecting pony magic on the off chance that this was all the work of a surpassingly strange unicorn. But there was nothing, naught but an occasional flicker of movement in the corner of an eye, jesting teases more than anything else.
So the competition was on, the first man to sight one of the kindly folk and discover their methods would win considerable bragging rights in the local alehouse, not to mention the possibility of a very useful trick, if it should happen to be something that could be learned.
It was this excited bustle and confusion that greeted Halvard Path Seeker as he returned from speaking with the Moot.
He'd been gone for too long, more than a day spent beyond his beloved hills being too long by his estimation. Finding the generally dour hold bustling like an earth pony market garden almost had him wondering if he'd somehow walked into the wrong town.
Halvard was a well-known man amongst the holders of Evergreen, tall, handsome in a rough-carven way, and possessed of endless alehouse stories. As the master of the rangers in the region it had been his duty to give the report to the Moot at Raven's Roost, a month's journey in and of itself. It had been a productive meeting, and Raven's Roost was always a marvel to see, but it wasn't home. Now Halvard was finally home again, and it seemed home had a mystery for him to savor.
Hearing much from his kinfolk of these elusive guests, and arising the next day to find his doorstep buried in cheerful sunflowers, Halvard was taken with the mystery of it all. After the tedium of the Moot and the dust of the road, an adventure into his beloved woods seemed just the thing to refresh his spirits. So off he ventured in search of a thing that no man so far had been able to find.
High in the hills and deep in the forest, Halvard's steps at last brought him to a secluded forest glen. Taking a moment to rest from his wanderings, he'd just settled down against a tree when a voice spoke from just the other side. Low and measured, with a rich undercurrent of sly amusement.
"So you are one of the creatures my children have told me so much about. What brings you so deep into these hills? Not chasing after us I hope, it would be a shame to waste your time, you'll never catch, nor even see us."
With cautious courtesy, Halvard replied that he pursued nothing, save truth, for he'd recently returned home from a long journey and found his kinsmen all agog with stories of invisible pranksters.
This brought a proud laugh, such that which a master saves for his credulous student. "Invisible? No, not invisible, we hide in plain sight, they simply aren't looking hard enough."
This brought a sharper retort, for a man will always rise swifter to the defense of his friends than himself. There were many things in the forest and under the hills full of cunning and subtlety, but the men of Evergreen had learned all their tricks in time. What made this unseen speaker any different?
"Why, we are different because I am different. You say you've learned a hundred tricks? Then I've imagined a thousand. None but my children have ever glimpsed me, and none but my children ever shall."
"That's fine for you," allowed Halvard, "but it sounds terribly dreary to me. A life of hiding and spying? What joy or pride is there in such a life?"
"Spying he says! Here's a self-proclaimed hunter of beasts criticizing another for what he does every day! Or do you not spy on everything under branch and bole? As to hiding, I speak to you readily enough, you've only yourself to blame if your skills aren't up to the challenge."
And so it was and so it went, a dashing bout of repartee, until the sun drew low and Halvard stood to return home. Giving his name as was only polite, he was not particularly surprised when the mysterious voice declined to return the favor.
"My name is my own, it belongs to my children. You are certainly no child of mine, you've no claim on my name."
"Well I must call you something, and proper respect demands a proper means of address. I will call you simply ‘lady’ then, as every devoted mother and wise leader is."
A laugh was all the response he got, and as he rounded the tree there was nothing at all to find, not even so much as a blade of grass out of place. So Halvard journeyed back to his home and kin, there to tell a story of his latest venture, and to wonder to himself at this mysterious lady of the Kindly folk.
From then on Halvard found he had acquired a shadow. Whenever he went out into the forest on this or that bit of business it wouldn't be long at all before the elusive lady would make herself known. This usually took the form of a polite call out of the middle nowhere, a voice that always seemed to come from directly behind him. But sometimes there were pranks to be had, such as a shout of joyous welcome singing out, just as he was carefully stepping over an icy stream.
"Good morrow to thee, oh noble hunter! How fares the spying?"
"Wha-!"
*Splash*
"I see you have successfully ambushed the stream, truly the water stood no chance against your cunning."
In the beginning Halvard wondered if he'd found a nuisciense where he sought a mystery, but time revealed a cunning and well-traveled mind, one with tales and deeds to match his own. Whoever and whatever the Lady was, she'd lived a long life and had the stories to prove it, so as he went about the business of a ranger there was no shortage of conversation.
They rambled back and forth through the forests and over the hills, Halvard ever watchful for the slightest glimpse of his elusive companion, the Lady always speaking from some unseen angle. As the days went on they spoke of everything under the sun, for no matter the subject one or the other had either a familiarity or an opinion. They recounted days gone by, one-upped each other with feats of daring or cleverness, reminisced fondly of old companions now absent, and bragged of exotic locales visited.
Halvard taught the Lady chess, at first in a somewhat awkward fashion involving much turning about with eyes closed, and after losing to him with a fool's mate the lady vanished outright for a week. With his chessboard no less. Then, the board returned, sitting out by itself, a clear invitation. After a moment's consideration Halvard made a move and continued on his way. From then on the chessboard would pop up in the strangest places, always with a new move (by the black player of course) awaiting his response.
In turn the Lady taught him riddles as the Kindly Folk told them, spiraling stories of intrigue hinging on a single seemingly innocuous detail. Often the obvious answer was very much the wrong one, sometimes the answer was in the first sentence, sometimes the last, sometimes there was no answer at all as the "riddle" turned out to be an overly complicated joke in the end.
The years went by with riddles, conversation, careful wariness deepening to easy familiarity. In truth Halvard cared little about actually solving the "mystery" of the Lady's identity by this point, it had become something of a joke between them long ago. An old and threadbare argument to fall back on when other topics were temporarily exhausted. Though neither of them brought it up, both considered the other a very trustworthy friend.
Then one morning the sun failed to rise, and word came that disaster had struck far-off Everfree.
Every man that the hold had to spare made ready to depart with all possible haste. Halvard led his rangers north with a quiet promise from the Lady that the hold would be protected in his absence.
Of the running battle through the ravaged streets of Everfree City, the less said the better; though no strangers to sudden violence and death, no man who set foot in that cursed place came out the same. Halvard returned, in time, leading some of his kin in somber victory, and leaving more behind. Though he still told great tales of his deeds, and sang as boldly as ever, there was a quiet melancholy to him now that had not been there before.
Now when Halvard spoke with his friend on their journeys through the wood they would just as often speak of sacrifice and aching duty, of loss and sometimes regret. The Lady slipped closer those days it seemed, almost sounding close enough to touch sometimes, as if he could simply turn and see her.
One evening, as Halvard sat alone in his home brooding before the fire, a familiar voice broke the silence. The Lady, it seemed, had decided to pay him a visit; a new level of daring, or perhaps trust, as he'd never known her to leave the deep forest before. She gleefully informed him that she did not intend to stay long, the trip was mainly to count coup as it were, to prove that she could get all the way into town and conceal herself within his very home undetected.
Then the storm rolled in.
A once-in-seven-years mage storm it was, battering the whole of the forested hills beyond the heavy stone walls of the hold. Only fools and madmen would go out in such, and the Lady, to Halvard's wry amusement, found herself quite stuck. Amusement or no, they were still friends, and while Halvard promised to hold on to this little error for as long as humanly possible, he offered her his own room for the night. The offer was graciously accepted, with the caveat that he must promise not to look in on her while she slumbered, for while she trusted him a promise would make for a firm reminder.
He readily agreed, and after a bit more conversation and a final jab or two at certain clever souls failing to look at the sky before going visiting, they both retired for the night. Halvard settled back in his armchair, and across the house the door to his room thunked shut. The storm raged on.
A while later Halvard was shaken from his doze by a loud crashing noise, the storm it seemed had hurled debris into his roof, specifically over the room where his guest was sleeping. While he had promised, concern for his guest's safety overrode his earlier commitment, and he approached the door. A sharp rapping knock was drowned out by the howl of the storm outside, the Lady it seemed, could sleep through anything.
So, holding a candle aloft, Halvard opened the door to check in on his slumbering guest.
Regrettably, Halvard had fought through the crisis of Long Night, had fought to get the populace out of Everfree City, and then fought to eradicate the monstrosities Nightmare left in her wake. There were things in the ruins of that city now, some of the worst in a way being swarms of huge demonic centipedes.
Thus, Halvard reacted, poorly, to the unexpected sight of black chitin glinting in his firelight.
Clacking, scuttling, screams, "No! Asger!" Blood, so much blood...
And Chrysalis, master empath that she is, was suddenly awoken by a mental shout of horrified disgust.
Halvard didn't know what he'd witnessed, but he recognized the despairing scream as ("Lady?") hurled itself across the room and through the window into the howling storm.
Halvard went after her of course, and a mighty hunter was Halvard. Chrysalis, in her grief, forgot her magic, forgot her flight, forgot her shape-changing, forgot all but a desire to flee. So flee she did, and Halvard ran after her, skilled enough to track through a blinding thunderstorm. And, behind him, woken by the clamor came his fellow rangers, though not at such a reckless pace, as the rain made the footing treacherous.
The rain slackened as they came to a rocky cliff-face, Chrysalis never wavered and went leaping from one outcropping to the next, seeming little more than a shadow. Finally, the clouds parted, and Halvard had his first true sight of the Changeling queen, bounding like a deer along the cliff side. Streaming emerald was her mane, and a dusky ebony her carapace, gleaming in the moonlight.
Halvard saw her and was amazed, he had never seen such grace.
Halvard saw her, and the master hunter's focus slipped, for just a moment, as he set foot on the next stone.
Chrysalis heard him, that golden sense of amazement, such as she'd never heard before.
Chrysalis heard him, and turned to look.
Chrysalis saw him, as he fell.
Aiet.
He fell, aiet. From the cliff he fell, to the hard ground below, no fear but a glimpse of surprise on his face.
Chrysalis screamed, aiet, for the second time that night.
Chrysalis screamed, and Chrysalis leapt, her wings drowned out the storm and her horn outshone the moon.
She leapt and caught him, just before they struck the ground, both injured, but both alive.
Halvard's kinsmen needed no great skill in tracking to catch up, they only needed to follow the shouting, a din of furious scolding fit to pin back any man's ears.
"Of all the irresponsible things! Running, on footing like this! A hunter of your age, and you go hopping about like a maddened toad, not even watching your footing! What would you have done if I wasn't here, eh? What would you do? You'd have DIED fool man! And then what would I have done?"
On and on the diatribe went, like every man's disappointed mother all at once, Halvard's kin honestly hesitated to approach and involve themselves in whatever he'd done to offend.
Entering the clearing proper they found Halvard, wincing, being supported by a dark ebony mare, as large as Celestia herself, though gnarled and slender. Instead of a coat of hair, her hide appeared sectioned, and seemed almost to be made of polished ebony. She spared them no more than a passing glance before returning her attention to Halvard, though before she could open her mouth to speak again he gave her a firm hug.
"I am very glad to finally meet you properly, though I wish it had been in better circumstances. I thank you for saving my life, and I hope you will forgive my error, and my breach of trust."
She merely hugged him back, joyful relief washing away any thought of recrimination.
Fin.
Also LikedSimilarAuthor
- Destiny Chaser · 29k words · 282 views
- Nephilinae · 18k words · 49 1 · 1.4k views
- locke_jaw · 2.7k words · 47 1 · 512 views
- Level Dasher · 2.1k words · 109 2 · 1.9k views
- PaulAsaran · 62k words · 84 5 · 676 views
- Dafaddah · 7.2k words · 62 3 · 1.1k views
- Caffeinated Pinkie · 8k words · 59 2 · 1.5k views
- SockPuppet · 5.5k words · 118 7 · 1.2k views
Stats
Page generated in 0.097 seconds
Total duration
770 users online
1,088,225 hits today, 1,996,409 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
I helped pre-red this. It's genuinely one of the better stories I have read, not just on FiMFic, but at any point in my life. That's not a small thing. I have a Masters Degree, minored in Creative Writing. I have read so many stories they blur together at times. This is good. So good I don't want to spoil a damn thing for anyone, but please do read it.
This is the kind of life I'd like to have mine look like in slice form.
Like, day to day reality in a world fundamentally not our own.
But with ponies!
Well, changebugs...
For a first submission, this is pretty damn good. Keep 'em coming, Ro.
Amazing, human in Equestria with an almost Tolkien - Lord of the rings vibe, old Equestria rise of Nightmare Moon timeline, with a younger less bitter Queen Chrysalis. I love it thumbs up and favorite for me.
Sadly I am unfamiliar with the word "Aiet" and several attempts to look it up have proven unsuccessful. What does it even mean?
This is one of those stories that I will come back to to read and reread, such charm and wit and beauty of soul. Magnifique.
So glad that you decide to publish this my friend, God bless!
10854838
'Aiet'
From the Dune series. A declaration of grief and anguish of tragedy that simply is, though one wish it not.
10854924
Oh, ok thanks.
10854621
Thanks for your help Meep!
10854621
High praise indeed coming from you, I'm very glad you liked it!
10854622
Thanks again for the editing, it was a pleasure to work with you. Hope to have another story in the works soon.
10854790
I'll try to!
10854924
10854935
Yup, that's the one. It tends to come up a lot in my writing, one of the benefits of being well-read is that you'll pick up all sorts of nifty little terms. Glad you both liked the story!
Oh my god... That was so BUT so beautiful!
For a first properly finished/published fic this get's a 9/10 for excellence. It would be higher, but then, just as I told a featured story today, there'd need to be more.
Reads like a fairy tale. I like it.
Amazing piece, Ro. It had me reading rapt; you'd be hard pressed to find someone who'd put this down.
10855025
I'm glad you liked it!
10855110
High marks indeed! I'd thought about making it longer, but the plot of this particular story wound up being pretty compact. And once I got to the ending, well, the ending's the ending, you know?
10855181
That was the goal, glad that came through!
10856078
Just what any author wants to hear, thank you!
Needed more hiding things in barrels. <__<
This was great; the changelings as playful fae is just a lovely idea.
Well, that was both nice and interesting, I thought! Thank you for writing. :)
(A question I'm wondering about, though; I hope you don't mind me asking:
How did the rangers get to far-off Everfree what seemed to be so quickly? By whatever method the word too travelled fast, some sort of magic?)
10856500
Glad you liked it! Changeling faeries were a natural progression from the original thought, which was passive love-collection aided by deliberate "cultivation" or lightening the mood. Once I had that thought the next idea was pranks and trickery, and from there the whole theme of faery was just a breath away. It all goes much smoother when "mom" isn't an embittered old nag...
10856598
This world's thick with what you might call "reasonably applied magic", which is a very powerful thing indeed. Emergency use of bottled dragon-fire sent the messages out, the muster converged on various pre-arranged gathering points, and liberal use of cloud-walking spells ferried groups the rest of the way on specially-managed cloud constructs. Excellent time made in exchange for outrageous expenditure of resources.
Everyone had to walk back though...
10856613
Ah, thanks. :)
Nice sense of world building, and good pacing. Overall, the story feels like a unique twist on the Changeling's abilities and desires. It would make sense for them to eat to essentially farm love i a community away from ponies, and making the citizens feel comfortable with them first with gifts and misunderstood attempts to help were both really well written and cute.
A charming little story and a great pace. I'm surprised this is your first story on the site. This is a testament to the potential you have for other stories if you ever decide to publish another one.
A Ro story at last! And a lovely one as well. Excellent fable, and a far happier one than many that deal with mysterious forest folk and broken promises thereunto. Thank you for it. Here's to many more!
10856847
Thanks for the read! I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I certainly hope to write more things in the future. Yes, Changelings are doing their best, but they don't always get "helpful" on the first pass.
10857110
Well the devil's in the details when it comes to promises, certainly Halvard had a better excuse than Psyche, and Chrysalis was more than willing to forgive him when all was said and done.
Hrm
Huh, great first story. This world begs to be explored further.
At least the lings are trying tu help! Even if they clearly know next to nothing about how to do that.
Well this was quite unexpected. I've never checked admittedly but I somehow got the impression that you'd never posted a story, not on this site anyway. I figured you were the type content to simply read.
It's a nice surprise though, and the story was interesting. I'm not sure if it's what you were going for but it almost reads like a classic fairytale.
10859114
It's a new development, and I really was trying for that classic fairytale. I'm glad you enjoyed it!
Seeing as how it was your story that inspired me to make an account in the first place for the purposes of commentary, we've rather come full circle, no? Funny that...
This was lovely! Everything felt like it fit in naturally, you introduced things very well. Definitely hit the fairytale feel. If you ever decided to release more bits in the future they would sure be welcomed!
A really enjoyable read, certainly feels like something you'd find in a book of fairy tales. It seems to hit just the spot where it's good enough to leave me wanting more, yet I have a feeling any direct sequels or continuations would likely detract from the folk legend feeling that runs so strong in the story, and the whole thing might end up being worse off for it. Though if you ever come up with any other fairy tales like this, I certainly wouldn't mind giving that a read.
Gah, I regret not reading this story sooner. The plot sets itself up to be about loss of innocence, but instead its about innocence prolonged. We know it won't last, of course. But in a way that makes this glimpse into the early life of "Lady" all the more meaningful.
Wonderful tone and prose that evokes the feel of a parent telling this story to their child before bed. Can't think of any one to one comparisons because your style is so unique, but it spiritually matches the delicate bardlike voice of Kate DiCamillo, author of my favorite children's book The Tale of Desperaux. Humans befriending sapient animals, unflappable characters learning to show vulnerability, bonds of friendship and fear of loss... it's all there. Superbly done.
10878386
Glad to hear you liked the story! So you picked up on that narrative subtlety eh? The original seed of the story was the old myth of Eros and Psyche, with a goodly dash of Shakespearean tragedy thrown in, because poor Chrysalis can't have nice things. Then, at the very literal last minute Chrysalis decided that by thunder she would have nice things, and she wasn't going to lose her friend to something as stupid as a mossy rock. The rest, as they say, is history.
Quite invigorating really, and it forces me to re-evaluate any number of things in regards to the world at large. Something that I am by no means upset about.
Yes as I've said before I was hoping to manage that bardic voice, telling a story rather than writing one if that makes any sense. But my goodness me, that is high praise, I'm flattered that you think so highly of my story. The theme I usually go for would be more or less along the lines of this song here, thoughts?
10871950
Ah, I really was trying to hit that oral folk-tale note, like something told over a campfire or while sitting by a hearth. Of course, a part of that is a certain brevity, got to be able to tell the whole thing in one sitting, no? In the end I followed that sage advice; "start at the beginning, and when you come to the end, stop."
10859880
I'm glad you liked it!
10878590
Ah, you appeal to my Irish ancestry with your choice of music. A bonny twee ballad, that one.
My short stories are in plain language, relying on fresh subject matter and slowly revealed character depth to engage readers. I work like an electrician who needs every subsequent filament to string neatly from the previous or the whole endeavor will fizzle. You though, are able to use short, efficient turns of phrase to achieve quippier gravitas. The paragraphs in this story are like worker ants; pull one out of the mix and it'd still have function and flavor. But allow it to cooperate in the intended network of descriptions and dialogue, and an airtight gestalt effort of an end product emerges.
I write more fics than I read, and I read more fics than I follow their authors. But you've absolutely earned a follow. You have a lot of integrity when it comes to producing content, so I definitely want to be around to provide encouragement.
As for the comparison of your work to Kate DiCamillo's, I really appreciate authors who can nail the voice of a bard. It takes surgical precision to wield descriptive melodrama like an expert film maker wields shaky cam.
Anyway, I've cluttered your comment section with enough dithering. Good night to you, and good luck catching any future plot bunnies with pelts worth weaving into publishable fics.
10878891 Ah yes, I do love that story. The movie version was... lacking. It watered-down the poetic nature to a mere by-the-numbers kiddie hero story.
Adapting such literary works to film requires a subtle touch few can achieve. You must know how to turn the meter of words into imagery, maintain the tone with color and form.
It was how I felt when I first saw "The Last Unicorn" and then read the book. They were clearly kindred, for they FELT the same. It was no surprise to me to learn that book and screenplay both came from Beagle himself.
10854621 If one were to create a TRULY 'adult' version of Pony (and by that, I do not mean PORN, obviously... I find it frustrating that 'mature' and 'adult' these days mean nothing more than rutting like beasts in heat.) then this story is a perfect example of how to do it.
Since mature and adult are now poisoned terms, for works like this we must pick a new term; and I choose 'splendiferous'!
10879585
What's this? A wild Alondro appears, liking my humble story? I'm honored good sir.
I do my best to imagine sensible people and the decisions such folk would make in their day-to-day, good characterization makes or breaks a story I always say. Halvard is pretty much "capable woodsman in a fantasy setting who makes reasonable choices based on all available information", a figure of staggering myth and rarity to be sure. Splendiferous indeed I'd say!
10878891
I owe my prose to Estee, who I've read quite a bit of lately, and C. S. Lewis, who I read quite a bit of a while ago. That in-the-moment energy, with a hopeful eye to lush descriptions and some hearty positive energy. I'm flattered and thankful for the follow, and certainly hope to live up to your expectations. I've another tale in mind to tell, a bit longer to see if I can't manage more than one chapter in a story.
Ah, haunting prose that fragment of story, quite haunting. I don't believe I've ever read that author, but I certainly see the resemblance. Thought-provoking, as all beautiful things are. A tragic beauty.
Good night to you as well, good luck with whatever you're about.
Love this story, and would love to see more
A good friend recommended this to me. In real life, I often have trouble speaking, for a number of reasons that love to buddy up and annoy me greatly. In text and writing, I often try to use a professional, flowery prose. At times it has the unfortunate side effect of making me look like a snide jackass, but stories like this are what I strive for with that tone. I've even written a similar concept myself, but even a glance at this story shows me the distinction i need to keep in mind in the future; each of your paragraphs are full, healthy with detail that isn't needed, much like Tolkien's tree descriptions, but add all the same to capture the romanticism of a period piece writer.
And I do love stories where changelings show their Fae roots.
11073408
I'm glad you liked it! An important thing in writing is evocative description, it's not enough to have "stage direction descriptions" of what's going on, you need to be able to sell the mood and you need to paint a picture in the reader's mind. C. S. Lewis is a wonderful example of this sort of descriptive writing, a few sentences brings an entire concept to mind clear as day.
although I have a feeling that I have already seen a story with a similar concept, but I liked this cute story.
I'm afraid I'm a bit late to providing feedback on this, so most others have already hit many of the points which I really liked. Nonetheless, I'd like to reiterate a few things which really made this fic shine:
If there's one bit of critique or suggestion I would give, it's to watch out for run-on sentences tied together by lots of commas. They can become a little awkward to read, although the actual text within these is good. Just break them up a bit more with proper stops and new sentence, and it'll be great.
All in all, a good read! I'd love to see more in this setting.
You can has review!
I found this via the review of PaulAsaran who seems to have a pretty good head on his shoulders where reviewing pony words are concerned.
A few minor typos sprinkled throughout this story but only in the blink and miss variety. Otherwise as everyone else has said, you did a very good job here. The only thing that could have made it more Medieval was if you inserted a bardic ballad at some point
11808364
So I can! Thankee kindly.
11808403
Glad you enjoyed it, I had a fun time writing it.
This was great. You sure have a way with so-called "25 cent words", but it gave the story its own unique style. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
It kind of reminded me of the Greek myth about Psyche and Eros, what with the many interactions without seeing the other person, though obviously without any of the romance.
Very interesting to see a setting with humans naturally existing in Equestria as well.
The prior comments answered my questions about Aiet.
Nice to see Chrysalis being friendlier for once.
external-preview.redd.it/y-1l1MRA74lY3jv7kAPE-_4eF0_r1uJh7lxQX8vGEHk.jpg?auto=webp&s=7cd837c00d8f450d5f34832eb3f4f8b19ab11958
11878584
I'm glad you had fun, I was definitely going for an older style of writing, more "fireside tale" if you take my meaning.
Perceptive indeed, that was the very inspiration! Along with a bit of the pattern from Romeo and Juliet, though Chrysalis decided to nix that portion at the end. In hindsight I'm honestly surprised to be the first writer (that I know of) to use Chrysalis in conjunction with the old myth, you'd think she'd be a natural choice!
It's a whole thing.
Chrysalis is a very adaptable character, no? I'm always thrilled and happy to present alternative perspectives on characters.