Long ago, in a land yet to be named, there were nine species that lived in harmony. There was no greater species, and there were no rulers above them all. There were nine species, nine that would live in peace. Well, at least they did for a while.
Long ago, in a land yet to be named, there were nine species that lived in harmony. There was no greater species, and there were no rulers above them all. There was the Kirin Unicorns, fierce warriors and skilled in battle magic, renown for their armies and tactical brilliance. Then the Delude Thestrals, quick and silent fliers of the night. Known for their sly words and spy work, with exceptional hearing and perfect eyesight. Next, the Dusties, a fairy like race of Pegasus, with the ability to sooth others with the dust that falls off of their wings. Known exclusively for their angelic features and soothing qualities. The Hunters a primal race of meat eating ponies, while rather brash when it came to diplomacy, they are the only ones to have trained the monsters of the forest. Being unarmed with no magic or flying, they use their sharply honed instincts and observation. Although some will say that with special cases they can control plants themselves. Then the Hippocampi, a sea based horse species, with their numbers as various and diverse as the marine life they live with. Being used as mostly transportation and making beautiful jewelry, they have two forms, one with a tail, and the other with legs. The Earth Gypsy's, a swamp based system of ponies, heavily influenced by dark magic, and superstitions. Not only is their dark magic the strongest of all, the will of the species is the strongest as well, making few of them fall to temptation. The Birds of Paradise were gorgeous bird like horses, with feathers instead of mains, and wings that they constantly preen. Seen as vein creatures, what they lack in strength they make up for in speed, being the fastest in the sky. The Frost Unicorns live in frigid temperatures and are excellent diplomates, renowned for their speckled patterning and shades of whites, blues, purples, and greys. They live as a secretive group, but have the largest numbers of them all. Last came the Valkyrie, tall and thin species with double eyelids, used to going days without water and running as fast as the tornados that travel their land. Manes of flame travel behind them, along with their spiraled horns used like rams. But there were still those that the nine didn't quite get along with, whether they held grudges or didn't like a decision. Sometimes it was magic gone wrong. But the leaders of the nine groups feared for the worst, that a group of rebels would rise against them all. And their fears were true, a mesh of all nine species, mostly hybrids, rose and attacked the peaceful capital of Kuhhia. Desperate to end the fighting, the leaders commissioned the greatest forgers in the lands to forge nine helms, one for each of the species. The helms were enchanted to choose the warriors who would represent the species the best, in the end the first nine warriors perished. They defended their city and kept the Tainted from invading any further, sending them away to the highest mountain peak. With their death came enchantments to the helms, ones to preserve the memory of the warriors and to ensure that if the helms were ever to be used again, that the next nine wouldn't die. The nine species signed an agreement after that, naming it the "Helm Accord", so that if any one species was in trouble they would be helped by the others, and should war break out, it was to be quelled. A council made up of each species was made under the Helm Accord, and for a short time all was peaceful. But not long after, an Earth Gypsy named Dusted Orb made a prophecy that baffled the council of the Helm Accord. "Along the fated path that leads to the end of the seas core. A great battle will shake the world causing destiny to soar. Fires will rage and winds will roar , twist and shatter glass. Hope shall be lost and all shall crumble underneath the flames. But the helms that glow for all to see. Shall bring nine of different species together for their destiny. One bright and tough with a heart of gold. The other sharp and uncut, brash and bold. One that will follow destiny and soar quietly in the star lit sky. The next will look down below them and say to everything they know goodbye. One soft and round, but hold enough secrets to crush a colt. Then next will stay as long as they can, to fight the urge to bolt. One will unleash an evil that can never be controlled. The next blurs the line between friend and foe. The last of them all will cast an unforgivable curse. Before they give up the nine helms of species, all will disperse. From above will come a new threat from the sky, that will scour the earth in search of his prey. And from the helms two will have to curse themselves to a fate worse than death most will say. The Guardians of the Helms will sacrifice all to save the ones behind them. Sacrifice will take them all, and with them their species crowning gem. Fate is cruel and Destiny is a curse for all to bear. The Helms will take a heavy price to be our savior. Unpaid they will cut like a saber."
Silken Touch looked around the table one last time, making sure that all nine of the ambassadors were still with him. His curved horn making him stand higher than any of the other members, the teardrop shaped Chalcedony jewel sat in the band around his neck. Showing his importance as an ambassador to the Kirin Clan.
Kirins were warriors, after the attacks they became the leading military force. Guards of Kirin could be found in every species separate kingdom, except for the Thestrals. They were on average, bigger than any other species. With long bodies and a curved horn, their tails were also like a snake with the bit of mane at the end.
To his left was Clear Mirror, an Earth Gypsy. The colt was on the small side compared to the others that surrounded him, but Silken Touch knew from experience he could easily wipe all of them with a simple flick of ancient tongue. He had a simple and plain color pallet like most Gypsies, he was a mahogany color with a softer cream mane, grey roots threatened to streak into the rest of his mane. Around his hoof was a bracelet with an Emerald stuck beautifully in the middle of the silver.
Earth Gypsies were very superstitious and frankly crazy ponies. While most were sensible, and even wise the few crazy ones tended outshine the practical ones. Despite being earth born ponies, they are magical in a sense. After many year they became adept at working with dark magic, voodoo magic, not only making the species incredibly stubborn but also dangerous. On the smaller side, they're compact and live in swamps and marshes.
Next to them was Raggiana, a rather beautiful Bird of Paradise. She was a tan color with speckled coloring, her tail feathers were a mix of warm autumn colors the feathers around her ears being longer and a softer color than her tail feathers. She was soft spoken and a scribe, although she had purple eyes. Which if Silken could remember correctly, meant she often went with the flow of things and was best suited for a job with many bumps and challenges, it amazed Silken how often the Birds of Paradise were right. Her golden earring had a beautiful piece of Amber in it.
Birds of Paradise were always gorgeous ponies, they had fur still, but only on their bodies. The rest was replaced but feathers, males had a spine of feathers on their stomach where females didn't. The manes were replaced by feathers of varying length and thickness, and their tails were like a peacocks. The feathers on their ears were the most expressive, and were usually brightly colored. They mostly lived in the rainforest, with hollowed bones making them very swift fliers and even had an entire ideal around eye colors.
Next came Thunder Dancer, a well built Delude thestral. He was a peculiar one, he was heavily built but his cheeks were gaunt as if he had been starved and his ribs were visible through his barrel shaped chest. His dark blue coat was complimented by his silver and pale yellow mane, his eyes were a light pink color that threw most off, but Silken knew Thestrals eyes came in different shades of red, with the same replacement of black for the whites of their eyes. Clasped around his left hind leg was a sheath, a pearly jet gem was sitting on the obsidian.
Thestrals were an exception to Silkens knowledge, little was actually know about them, and even less was know about how their goverment worked. But the way they sounded, they made it sound like there were subclasses to their species, much like the Hippocampi. Besides that, they had very large ears, and bat like wings. They were usually thin and lightweight, some with skeletal features, like Thunder Dancer.
Pearl of the Valkyrie’s sat across from him, her white flaming mane casting the dim room in a ghostly light. She was a rather pretty Valkyrie by their species standards, even by Silken Touch, she was a pale sandy color with a soft splash of freckles on her underbelly. Her horns were adjourned with tribal markings, and hanging off the right one was a ruby earring. Or well Silken supposed he should call it a horn ring.
Valkyries were very tall and thin ponies, mostly to conserve water which they could go without for weeks. Instead of manes of hair their manes were of flame, varying in color but the height was always determined by their age. They also posses a second set of eyelids, to help keep the sand out of their eyes.
To her left was Monarch of the Dustie's, with orange wings flinging dust everywhere. She was glowing softly, although overpowered by Pearl’s fire, unlike most Dustie's her mane was very short cut, and her body was devoid of any ash burns, although a long ugly gash went down the right side of her face right over her eye. She was a dull yellow color with an orange mane, softer cream highlights glowed along with her wings. Around her neck was a choker with a roughly cut sunstone in the middle.
Dustie's were fairy like ponies, with beautiful wings of many kinds, they just lacked feathers and leathery skin. While not the most graceful or agile fliers, the dust that fell from their wings held magical properties that were used in many medical procedures. Dustie males usually had the longer hair, and females the shorter. The speckled patterning found on many of the dustie's, came from the cremaited ashes of their ancestors, thrown onto their bodies while they were still growing. Carrying the memory of them on through burns on their children's skin.
Next to them was Skylight, a heavy coated Frost Unicorn. By heavily coated Silken meant even by Frost standards the mare had a heavy coat, he could see the sheen of sweat on her muzzle from the heat of the flames nearby. Silken couldn't pull much out about Skylight or the Frost Unicorns at all, nobody could, not even the skilled Thestrals. Around her muzzle and clamped between her jaws was a bit that seemed to be popular among the few seen Frost Unicorns, the bridle wrapped around her head, and disappeared under her shaggy hair, on each end of the bit was a clear diamond.
Frost ponies were the most elusive, little was know about them at all. What was known is that their coats were very thick along with their mains, and their horns had two crevices almost cut out of them like sharp icicles. And perhaps the most interesting part was their dewclaws, on the back of their hooves was a single retractable dewclaw, very effective in battles, and possibly used for digging into ice.
Savage a Hunter sat next to her with a rather passive look on her face. The black marking under her eyes resembled a snake as it curled around her eye, the scar going around her neck like a choker was a dark pink color. The beautiful color of her long hair was a dark red color, while her coat a bronze shade of brown. Her hair band held a lovely smokey quartz that was masterfully cut.
Hunters were the only meat eaters of the nine species, naturally equipped with razor sharp teeth and long fleshy tails with a razor end. Along with enhanced senses that allowed them to track the most difficult of prey through their home forest. Under their eyes was a black marking, used to block the sun and give them better vision. Hunters were also known for their hair, always extremely long and held back with a single band of metal that was slowly stretched over their lifetime. And their cutiemarks, or lack therefore of, instead of a cutiemark, they had a scar from the first animals they trained.
The last of them was Queen Abyss, a dark blue hippocampus with coral pink markings along her face and chest. Her tail was one of an eel it seemed, with frills along the top and the bottom that moved in slow methodical movements.She looked as strict as always, the chest plate that held the marking of her kingdom, with a lapis jewel in the center.
Out of all of the nine, Hippocampi were the most diverse of them all. With as many different types as there were fish in the sea, they varied largely only having a few similar traits throughout them all. One was the sensitive gills on their necks, and another the glowing marks on their bodies that they could turn on and off at will. With the ability to live hundreds of years, they needed too with the death rate of birth being so high, not to mention that males were incredibly rare and highly valued.
Silken Touch himself never concentrated on a cutiemark, mostly because some of them had none. And he loved a good challenge when guessing their talents. Especially when it came to Hippocampi, they didn't believe in the mentality of having their fate tied to a mark. Since most tended to be a jack of all trades.
Clear Mirror cleared his throat, flicking his mane over his shoulder, “It's been decided then,” he said turning the paper towards the other eight “The nine helms are to be kept by the Earth Gypsies until they are needed again.” He said, “And once they are needed, the guardians are to be kept alive this time. In case of another after shock like the Tainted brought, yes?” He asked looking at each of the members.
Monarch nodded, craning her neck to read the document herself, “Of course,” she scoffed, “The rebellion that came after caused tremendous damage to our public buildings.” She said pulling the paper closer to herself accidentally sprinkling dust onto the parchment.
“Perhaps if your people weren't so lazy you wouldn't have those types of problems.” Skylight said, reading over Monarchs shoulder, her white eyes scanning over the paper, her ear twitched sending a bead of sweat flying off the very tip of her ear.
“We can't all be as big of as-” Monarch was cut off as Pearl shoved her hoof into the younger mares mouth.
“Eloquently put,” Savage said with a chuckle, the tip of her sharp tail traced over the table in a circling motion, slowly carving a gap into the flat wooden surface, oak if Silken could correctly recall.
“Pardon if I may-” Raggiana said from where she was, before sighing. Her tail lowering itself from its Peacock like position, her wings tucked against her side. She would wait until they settled down before talking, she rarely strained her voice.
Thunder Dancer slammed his hoof onto the ground, a loud crack of thunder struck the room making the group fall silent. “The Paradise would like to say something.” He said in bluntness Silken Touch would've killed to have.
Raggiana looked at Thunder Dancer appreciative, “Thank you,” she said her ear feathers fluffing up a little, “As I was trying to say, this is not in the name of one of us, this is for all nine. We made a horrible mistake before all of this, agreed?” She asked, there was a murmur of general agreement, “Now, within this piece of parchment it grants hybrids the ability to remain among whichever tribe they choose to stay in. And during the longest time of the set sun-” Silken appreciated her using common terms from the Birds of Paradise, it added flavor to the mix of species “-all tribes are to gather and celebrate the sacrifice of the Guardians of the Helms.”
“Hoorah!” Queen Abyss said enthusiastically, her long elegant tail swinging side to side, nearly hitting Savage. Well, Silken supposed it would've never gotten close enough to hit the skilled Hunter. The fact that Savage didn't even blink at the tail that nearly nicked her face said much about her nerves.
Pearl opened her mouth to say something but was abruptly cut off as the door swung open, standing at the base was Woven Shield, one of the many Kirin guards that patrolled the city. Silken Touch stood up instantly, turning to look at the guard, “What is it?” He asked, knowing that they would've never disturbed the meeting unless it was urgent.
“There has been a prophecy!” Woven Shield exclaimed, “Dusted Orb has prophesied the next coming of the Guardians of the Helms.” He said.
Clear Mirror concentrated on figuring out who Dusted Orb was, Silken Touch didn't need to look back at him to know that look on his face. Monarch on the other hand had no problem exclaiming her opinion.
“How do we know she's not another one of those false prophets?” Monarch said cynically, her wings shaking defensively sending waves of organs dust over Savage and Pearl. But she had a point, the rise in fake prophets since the first prophecy made by Humbled Truth, an Earth Gypsy, was rather dramatic and spread to every species. Well Silken assumed every species, he had never seen a Frost Unicorn talk of a mad false prophet.
“Because she's the daughter of Humbled Truth.” Clear Mirror said standing up and walking around the table, “She’s proven to have a keen intuition and instincts that could match a hunters.” He said, flicking his tail at Monarch “Bring her in.”
Silken Touch had never seen Clear Mirror act so defensive before, the Earth Gypsy was protective of his kind. But never to this extent. Then again, Humble Truth was a close friend of his, perhaps in the midst of his grief he had forgotten about the deceased Colts foal.
Woven Shield nodded and disappeared for a moment into the hallway, returning with a small Earth Gypsy, a pale and wispy blue colored coat and darker swampish seagreen hair cut short.
Dusted Orb looked around nervously, “Is it okay for me to start?” She asked Woven Shield nervously, looking rather timid despite all that she claimed to have been. That was another thing that set her apart from most fake prophets, reluctance.
Woven Shield nodded, and Dusted Orb took a deep breath closing her eyes. When she opened them, her eyes glowed white, black ink fell from one of her eyes. That could've also been a sign that she wasn't a fake prophet. Then she opened her mouth.
“Along the fated path that leads to the end of the seas core. A great battle will shake the world causing destiny to soar. Fires will rage and winds will roar , twist and shatter glass panes. Hope shall be lost and all shall crumble underneath the flames. But the helms that glow for all to see. Shall bring nine of different species together for their destiny. One bright and tough with a heart of gold. The other sharp and uncut, brash and bold. One that will follow destiny and soar quietly in the star lit sky. The next will look down below them and say to everything they know goodbye. One soft and round, but hold enough secrets to crush a colt. Then next will stay as long as they can, to fight the urge to bolt. One will unleash an evil that can never be controlled. The next blurs the line between friend and foe. The last of them all will cast an unforgivable curse. Before they give up the nine helms of species, all will disperse. From above will come a new threat from the sky, that will scour the earth in search of his prey. And from the helms two will have to curse themselves to a fate worse than death most will say. The Guardians of the Helms will sacrifice all to save the ones behind them. Sacrifice will take them all, and with them their species crowning gem. Fate is cruel and Destiny is a curse for all to bear. The Helms will take a heavy price to be our savior. Unpaid they will cut like a saber."
Silken Touch was confused, which wasn't very hard to do with prophecies. It was vague and cryptic, but he could hear the scratching of the quill on papyrus paper, leading back to Raggiana who had written the entire thing down. The odd thing was the alternating between her rhyming and non rhyming lyrics.
But that just meant Dusted Orb was truly a prophet, if she wasn't then all the lyrics would have rhymed. It was a misconception, but when it came to more serious prophecies the chance of getting rhymes was a fifty fifty kinda thing, but never the entire time.
“What does that even-” Queen Abyss’ question was cut off as Dusted Orb fell to the ground, coughing up thick black slime. Silken Touch found himself unable to move as he watched the young mare’s life drain from her eyes.
Clear Mirror on the hand, “Silk!” He snapped already crouched down next to the mare, his words pulled Silken Touch out of his trance. “I need you to remove the promised jewel from her throat.”
Ah, Silken Touch almost forgot about that. And since he was the only one accurate enough to do that, it seemed like he had no choice.
The promise jewel was a uncut gemstone that was said to have been born in the heart of prophets, and when the prophecy was given the gem was supposed to come out to prove that it was real. While that wasn't the best theory, it was the only one. And why prophets never made more than one prophecy.
Silken Touch closed his eyes, purple mist rolled off the corners of his eyes, and off his horn, wrapping itself around the gemstone in her throat, delicately pushing flesh away and pulling it out. The gemstone was jet black and looked like perhaps a chunk of onyx-
“She's dead.” Clear Mirrors sharp words cut Silken Touch off from his observation. He shifted his attention, looking down to Dusted Orb who laid dead in a puddle of black slime, her icy pale eyes looking ahead glassily.
There came a snort from Pearl as Clear Mirror closed the mare's eyes, “I am not surprised.” She said her flickering white mane making her look like a ghost in the dim light, “That is the fate of a hybrid it seems, especially one of blood of ice and blood of heavens rejected.”
Silken Touch sometimes really didn't like Valkyries, mostly because they believed in blood and heritage above all else. Each species had a blood to them, Silken’s blood, a Kirins blood, was the blood of war. Which wouldn't have been too horribly wrong, and Silken suspected he would've liked being called that if it wasn't for how poorly the Valkyries treated other species.
But this was one ruler of perhaps one of many tribes, what she said couldn't be placed on all others. Shockingly little was known about the Valkyries, to Silken’s knowledge at least. But if what she said was true, Dusted Orb was a Frost and Gypsy hybrid.
“Pardon,” Raggiana said softly, her tail feathers ruffled up, “But we have a prophecy, and its telling us the world is going to end.” She said, her ears were flattened back as she shifted hoof to hoof nervously.
“No,” Thunder Dancer said, “They're saying that the helms will be needed again, sooner than we had all hoped.” He said stepping forward to look at Dusted Orb, “And that we won't be able to stop the death that comes from it.” He said his own wings spread wide, the large jagged rip that tore through the left one startled Silken Touch. He had forgotten entirely about that, which was stupid now that he thought about it. Why else would the usually thin and light thestral be so well muscled and bulky?
Silken shook his head, replaying the prophecy over in his head. “The last one was much shorter.” He said as his mind kicked into high gear, “Simpler and much more desperately needed, as if it was coming soon. This one was longer, as if it still had a time to come. Assuming so-” he cut himself off, “Raggiana, can you write down the prophecy?” He asked, “Just the parts describing the next nine.” He said
“I believe so, just give me a moment.” Raggiana said, working quickly, she was one of the best scribes in her species after all. As the feather flew across the paper Silken could hear softer hooves make their way up from behind him, from the spacing and pace he fussed it was Clear Mirror.
“What do you have planned Silk?” Clear Mirror asked finding his way back to his spot at the table, his cream mane was less kept than when they began, then again, Earth Gypsies are rarely concerned about how they looked.
“We each choose nine foals from our tribe that could fulfill a part prophecy.” Silken Touch said, “After that we set out for each foal, and see what the Helm chooses.”
Fated Path was running, sweat dripping down her muzzle fogging up her glasses as they shook from the impact of her hooves on the rocky terrain, maneuvering around larger jagged rocks or fallen trees with black gouges spiderwebbed along the dried bark.
Her breathing was labored, she couldn't be captured, not again. Every heartbeat he grew closer, with every stride she took he took three. He was inescapable. But she would try, she was smaller, more agile.
That was her downfall.
Fated Path jumped up a ledge nicking a smaller rock, sending a wave of pebbles down the deep abyss that no Kirin Unicorn had dared traveling down. She could hear the eerie echo they made for a moment before her hooves on the jagged terrain filled her senses instead.
“Run, run lost mare.” The wind seemed to caress her ears gently before whispering that single phrase, her ears flattened against her head, the eleven silver studs in each ear felt like ice against the back of her mostly shaven head.
Fated Path couldn't hear him, but she knew he was close. He was a master of stealth, silent and fast, but he was large, he couldn't fit in the same places she could or turn as quickly. That would never help her in the end, but she would try.
She got closer to her target, she could see it now, cleverly hidden at the top of a jagged rock. Sliding tightly, sending a wave of small rocks flying she altered course, and heard the smallest sound. Like a hoof trying to disguise itself as a falling pebble, his first mistake.
Fated Path stopped suddenly, unexpectedly, a large almost white form flew past her, his long bare tail smacked a rock cracking it.
Heart pounding in her ears she ran towards the rock, using it as a launch pad she jumped off and sent herself going up. She would finally do it, she would finally win.
Then the largest force she has ever encountered rammed directly into her side, sending her not only to the ground at lighting speed but also into a dead tree, splintering it into thousands of pieces, with the air knocked out of her. All she could do was gasp for air and watch her attacker come closer.
Battle Plan started laughing heartily, white smoke poured off of his horn and the corners of his hazel brown eyes, casting a healing spell on Fated Path. “You're getting harder to keep at bay.” He said happily.
Fated Path rolled her eyes, “I hope you know you're a horrible colt.” She said to her brother, flicking her tail at his chest, making him sneeze unexplainably.
“You're the one who told me to go full force.” Battle Plan aid walking down the mountain, Fated Path following beside him.
“Yes, let's have the leading general in the Crystalline Dynasty challenge me to a game of cat and mouse.” Fated Path said, her legs shaking from the strain she put them under, for a few minutes back there she was afraid she'd have to switch to secondary organs, and that wasn't a pleasant experience.
“We both know it's not called Cat and Mouse you little brat.” Battle Plan said his ear flicking into the wind, picking up noises Fated Path couldn't. “Besides, you managed to elude me for three cycles, because you are the head tactician.” He said bumping into her.
Fated Path took a moment to remember what he meant by cycles, right, generals had different terms than they did. Like a speperate military time she'd suppose, cycles referred to an hour, or a cycle of the wind current that traveled the rocky land that the Kirirns lived in.
The Kirins lived at the base of an old volcanic mountain, long ago dormate. Leaving behind a rocky barren land, seldom used to grow weak pathetic crops and devoid of clean water. But that's what he Kirin were best at, cleaning up messes. While they left crop growth to the other tribes and traded materials for food, the streams were purified with precise magic.
The Kirins were adaptable and precise, some of the older mare tales suggested that all ponies were once Kirin unicorns and simply adapted to their environment. Fated Path found it doubtful, but it still was a fun theory to mess around with anyway.
“Get down,” Battle Plan said suddenly, usually Fated Path would've laughed at her overprotective brother seeing a squirrel, but this time it was different. He had pulled himself to his full height, his ears were foreword and his tail was as straight as a board. She knew that something much larger than a squirrel was out there.
Fated Path decided it was best not to ask and quickly got down, her grey coat making her harder to distinguish. Her tan mane and tail gave her a bit of a hard time but, with luck they would be more concentrated on the ghostly form of Battle Plan to notice her.
Her position was uncomfortable, jagged rocks dug into her stomach and neck as she laid motionless. As much as she wanted to shift and get more comfortable, she could hear hooves crackling on stones, Battle Plan was correct it appeared.
Even when observant Battle Plan likes to keep a seemingly relax posture, Fated Path had asked him about it once. After all, it didn't seem like a very good stance to take when one was going to war. Fated Path still hated her dork of a brother's laugh when she asked, he never failed to make her feel stupid in the kindest ways.
Battle Plan as much empty air as it seemed was floating around his head, he was an extremely clever colt. Because of such he was a brilliant General, the reason his stance was so casual in a sense was to lure the enemy into thinking he was cocky, that he thought victory was certain, that he thought he knew everything about them.
Fated Path hated to admit that it was actually a good strategy, one that could and has worked very well.
With all of that said, Fated Path only knew she was in actual danger when Battle Plan actually tensed up.
And it seemed that today was one of those times, Battle Plan was very stiff, as if he was a solid rock. The crunching of pebbles under another's hooves ceased, the silence was filled by Fated Paths own heartbeats, quick and heavy, laced with adrenaline.
“Mistress Ivory,” Battle Plan said, his voice sounding just as melodic and smooth as it always was. But that soft hitch in between words left a pit in Fated Paths stomach, she had to force herself to keep her muzzle closed, to keep the panicked breathing in.
There were more than one Ivory’s in the village, that was a conman occurrence, and usually depending on how you said their name you could often figure out which one ponies were talking about.
With that soft hitch of breath, Battle Plan basically told Fated Path who it was.
Her name was Ivory, she was the leader of the Kirins. More importantly, leader of the Crystalline Dynasty, her coat was a dark grey and her mane was black. Her eyes were a nasty scarlet color that gave Fated Path a chill down her spin, perhaps the worst part was that only one of her eyes were red, the other was a sickly green color.
“My, my, Battle Plan,” Ivory hummed in a voice like sickly sweet candy, twisted carefully to intimidate all that crossed her. “You've grown into quite the Colt, Woven Shield and Diamond Edge would've been very proud of you.” She said flicking her tail, she chuckled, “Well, i suppose if they could get around naming their daughter ‘Fated Path’ that is.”
Fated Path was already on edge before, but knowing Ivory was trying to get a rise out of Battle Plan, giving him a reason to waltz straight into death. Battle Plan wasn't stupid, but he could very well be impulsive and rash when it came to his family.
“Raising a foal at four was never really an ideal time to start I suppose.” Battle Plan said crisply, dryly even. “Enough about my family Mistress. What has brought you all the way up here?” He asked.
Ivory hummed for a moment, “I'm looking for that darling sister of yours,” she said, “She has been selected for a very, very special task. Hand selected by me and my dear beloved Lunos.” She said with the smell of flesh on the air, Fated Path wasn't able to suppress the shiver that ran down her spine.
She had forgotten how truly terrifying the mare was, especially when her and Lunos were together. Despite neither being related to Hunters, they still feasted on flesh like it was common. Prisoners of war, criminals of all degrees, it didn't matter if you accidentally knocked an elder over or committed attempted mass genocide, you were equally likely each way to end up the live feast for them.
Ivory laughed, “Did you get a bit of a chill there my brilliant tactician?” She asked walking over until she was in front of Fated Path, “I must say, I didn't see you there clever girl.” She said patting the top of Fated Paths head with her hoof, “Now then up up, you're coming with me girl.”
Fated Path swallowed as much fear as she could before standing up, she didn't have to look at Battle Plan to see the tension and worry in his dark colored eyes. “Yes Mistress Ivory.” Fated Path said in a soft voice, avoiding eye contact.
Ivory chuckled, “So polite,” she said the fur at the end of her tail brushing under Fated Paths chin, “Anyway, I'm distracting both of you. Battle Plan, why don't you scurry back to your house, Fate might not make it back home in time to make you an evening meal.”
Fated Path looked to her brother one last, time a sinking feeling swirled in her stomach as she realized what this was about.
Destiny Ascension was used to people looking at her like she murdered their partners or parents. It was statistically likely she did, she wouldn't deny the absolute envy she had against them to begin with. Then again, nobody asked anyway. It was an easily keeper secret.
She was a thestral anyway, a Delude Thestral to be more specific. Not that it meant anything in the grand scheme of things, but it made her feel like a special snowflake.
If you couldn't tell, she was being sarcastic.
Destiny Ascension was rather short tempered, with a nice soothing personality she knew how to use well. She was supposed to be an ambassador for the Helms Accord, then again the entire agreement was a waste of time.
Why bother protecting the hybrids that plagued the unnamed land that they lived on? All they did was whine about how unfair everything was as they lounged around their houses and received compensation for what the Tainted did.
Destiny Ascension gagged a little, “Are you alright there Destiny?” Rose Thorn asked, Destiny Ascension had force a bark of laughter back, Rose Thorn meant no harm by his statement, but that never stopped her from finding offense in his statement.
How dare he ask if she was okay. After all he told her to do, after all she had done in the name of the thestral empire, all she was forced to do. And he was asking if she was okay with a little gag.
Pathetic.
Then again Destiny Ascension was often called petty and dramatic, and she'd have to reply that it was all part of the job. Being able to play the part. So she had put up her sheath that made her a member in the Helm Accord and returned to her favorite job.
“Wonderful Rose,” Destiny Ascension purred rubbing up against his neck, she could almost puke if he wasn't actually a good looking colt. With a beautiful silvery coat, with a midnight blue underbelly, his eyes were considered a lovely magenta color by Thestral standards, and his mane was a lighter purple, violet almost.
Rose Thorn gave her a small smile, his wings tucking and untucking nervously, playing his part perfectly. Destiny Ascension liked to think she was the best when it came to fitting her character perfectly, but she knew deep down that Rose Thorn had her beat.
Rose Thorn was the leader of the Thestrals, they liked to call him The King of Gardens. He was a very practical king, all he asked for was a beautiful garden to wake up to. And even then he tended to them himself most of the time, thestrals were sneaky creatures, they knew how to skirt the law. And Rose Thorn knew.
Destiny Ascension flicked him gently with her wing, playing the part of the newly bonded as best as she could. Love was a disgusting thing she didn't want to touch with a six foot pole. But she had a job to do, one that mostly involved her drinking a lot of wine.
There have been reports of young thestral mares being whisked out of parties, never to be seen again. Or at least until Destiny Ascension would get there, she had a mission success rate of one hundred percent. The five that were already taken were bonded with five important nobles or ambassadors in the thestral empire the difference between them was one the capture probably didn't notice. Two of them were fog thestrals, one of them was a CAD Thestral. Cloak and dagger Thestral, Destiny Ascension sometimes wished she could punch the thestral that came up with the class system.
The last two were the reason she was here, while mares were less important in the Thestral Kingdom, there were a few that they needed dearly. And those two were known as Angelus Thestrals. Nopony knew where they came from, nopony knew why they were so special. Expect for high ranking nobles and ambassadors, and a little spy like Destiny Ascension of course.
Angelus Thestrals were so important, because of the pure, unfiltered magic that runs through them, they have no way of releasing that magic, so it builds up for years, until they die from the compression of their organs, or from their organs being forced out of their body. Angelus Thestrals are closely monitored, the fact that two of them were missing was horrifying, the idea that another species could learn the secrets of the thestral kingdom was unimaginable.
Destiny Ascension was a simple mare, she woke up in the morning, hunted down prey and drank them dry. Went to work and learned what she had to do, get paid, then go home and take care of her brat of a brother.
She’d never admit he was the reason she woke up in the morning.
Because Destiny Ascension had no weakness, she was flawless with her missions and fit into her roles perfectly. She was everything and nothing, she was the perfect spy.
Not a flawed pony.
She shook her head lightly, swirling the glass cradled in her left wing, this was not the time to think about such trivial things. She had a mission. A very important mission.
She wasn't even going to add all of the stress that was on her now that her partner was the king of the Thestrals. Of course many Thestrals didn't know what their king looked like, just rumors, many Destiny Ascension spread herself. So they were in the clear for now, all she had to do was steer ponies of other species who could have known what the king would look like away from the conversation.
Rose Thorn bent his head down as if going to nuzzle her, stopping short he was just close enough to whisper into her ear. “Earth Gypsy priestess, brandy coat,” he said, his words ticking the thick fur around Destiny Ascension’s ears sending a shiver down her spine. “Thestral mare, silver headband dark violet coat.” He said before pulling away, a faint blush on his cheeks as if he’d actually said something worth blushing at.
Destiny Ascension gave a soft chuckle and licked one of his cheeks in a loving manner, it was a shame he was a bonded colt, no doubt she could always stage a murder and be the only one there to comfort him. That would certainly be a fun idea to toy with.
Once she had finished with her display of affection she cuddled close to him as if cold, in a perfectly nervous response his wings trembled a moment as if unsure of how to react, before laying over her smaller form.
Destiny Ascension cursed Rose Thorn and his unnaturally warm body, she had a job to do. Once she was covered she looked slowly, making sure it looked like a mindless gaze before finding what Rose Thorn had told her, the sight nearly made her gag.
Two mares.
Passionately making out.
There was something unsettling about two mares locked in a battle for dominance, she was much more keen for a challenge, like Rose Thorn for example. Many ponies thought like that, the only species that had laws protecting them were the Earth Gypsies, and they were weird to start with. Not to mention many of them were hybrid makers and rarely ever married or bonded regardless of species or gender.
Birds of Paradise were also known to be in this type of relationship, but only because of the trading that went between the two species. Despite their vanity, Destiny Ascension warned others to be wary of the species immense intelligence, what they lacked in muscle they made up for in brains and speed. The fact that they never tried to disprove their vanity and laziness was probably the smartest move they could've made.
But at a party as such as this one, when a party was hosted in the Birds of Paradise’s kingdoms, after the formal event is when they brought out the Valkyrie alcohol, moonshine basically, and the more exotic of dancers. They spiked all the food with ecstasy, and Destiny Ascension learned from experience that almost everything was okay, even two mares making out.
Thankfully she knew the two of them, the Thestral was a Habius Thestral, her name was Clear Mind, which was rather ironic in this situation, not to mention she was bonded. The Earth Gypsy wasn't familiar nor foreign, she had bumped into Destiny Ascension earlier and complimented her on her necklace.
Destiny Ascension drank the rest of her glass for extra courage, passing her glass to Rose Thorn before making her way over to the two. The earth gypsy noticed he first, the unsettling part was she looked completely sober compared to Clear Mind, who was red in the face, wavering and giggling like a filly.
“Hello there,” The Earth Gypsy said, her voice was almost hypnotic, “You're Destiny Ascension right?” She asked before giving a warm smile, Destiny Ascension felt her heart compress for a chilling moment.
“My name is Gold Dust,” they continued, almost lazily wrapping her foreleg around Clear Mind, “Clear Mind, do you know this mare?” She asked with a voice sweeter than before.
Clear Mind blinked with glazed over eyes before laughing, “Offfff couRseeeeee.” She drawled with a giggle, “That's the kingssssss bEst lil’ sPYyyyyyyyyyyyy.” She slurred drunkenly. The fact that her cover was blown should've set Destiny Ascension off guard, but instead she laughed. What a silly mare, she had thought, she needed some sleep so she could wake up feeling even better.
Destiny Ascension stumbled just the smallest bit, her wings spreading to help her keep her balance,out of the corner of her eye she could see a Bird of Paradise had started to talk to Rose Thorn. And yet she couldn't find a reason to care, for once she felt, carefree?
Something was horribly wrong.
Destiny Ascension screamed at herself but she wouldn't respond, a stupid almosy drunken smile on her face as she talked about Astronomy and her feelings towards Rose Thorn. And Gold Dust was such a intentive listener, she wouldn't interrupt her. Not even when she would stumbled and hiccup, or lost her place.
Destiny Ascension wracked her brain frantically, the little piece of control she had left was slipping. How could this have happened? She was better than this, one glass of weak Kirin wine (they were notoriously bad at holding their alcohol) wasn't going to make her lose that much control!
Gold Dust chuckled for a moment, turning her head at the exact moment Clear Mind’s eyes rolled into her head and she collapsed, her chest was still for a sickening moment before evenly rising and falling.
Alarms went off in Destiny Ascension’s mind, she forced herself to clamp her mouth shut but moments later she was giggling again. She had no control over her body, no control over what she said or did.
When did everything get so foggy?
Heavy fogs were common in the rainforest, but for one to roll in during the middle of the night? That was hard for even a drunken Destiny Ascension to accept, she took a moment to look around and realize even the sky was foggy. She took another moment and blinked a few times, the fog got heavier.
The fog wasn't actual fog, it was her vision swimming as she slowly blacked out. Gold Dust laughed and nuzzled the top of her head, “I'll see you when you wake up little spy,” she said with a calming tone that only made the fog thicken.
Destiny Ascension looked up at the mare one last time, before the fog blocked out the moon.
“Golden Coat?” A soft and gentle voice asked, Golden Coat looked up, a wisp of purple flame caught his eye as he lifted his head, his mother Bronze Ram was their her tall purple flames licking at the top of the tent, yet leaving no scald marks.
Everything had to be flame resistant in the Valkyrie’s tribes, even though their manes were normally cold and passive. In other words, the flames were that of an illusion almost, but when emotions flared the flames themselves became what they appeared to be, fire.
“Mother,” Golden Coat said, dropping the pencil he had in his mouth gently, if he broke it on accident he’d have to take a day's travel to the main market, he didn't have that kind of time on him. He was working on a map of all of this unnamed land, two of those kingdoms would be harder to map than the others, but he believed it would be well worth it.
Bronze Ram looked at his map, her mane flickered with a splash of darker purple, “Your Father would like to speak to you,” she said, a wave of dry heat washed over Golden Coat, he knew his mother was not very close to his father anymore, they were officially unmated after all.
A wave of dry heat was typically displayed when somepony felt an immense splash of anger, sarcasm or hopelessness. Sometimes if two ponies were sensitive enough, whole conversations could be held between two Valkyries. And only Valkyries, not even the highly sensitive Hunters could detect the undertones in their words.
It was almost a silly concept for Golden Coat to have considered in the first place, he was a navigator. He wasn't a linguistic pony, barely knew the common tongue enough to talk to ponies of his own kind. But regardless, it looked like he had to speak to his father. About what? He wouldn't know.
Golden Coat stood up, sand swirling around his hooves as the cushion breathed in air to plump itself up again. He walked up to his mother, soft grey etchings on her horns, he touched his horns to hers, their equivalent of a hug, Valkyries weren't very touchy.
“Go now,” Bronze Ram said, “Your Father does not like waiting, you should know that by now.” She huffed, her clear second set of eyelids blinking, Golden Coat brushed past her, feeling the heat of her mane on his coat, yet he knew he would not be burned. Valkyries were fireproof as well, their coats had an oily feel to it that made them fire retardant.
He closed his eyes before he stepped out of the tent, his eyes seeing the bright pink of his flesh as the sun burst to life in his vision, giving himself a moment to adjust he opened his eyes slowly. The sand under his hooves was so sun bleached it was like walking on soft unstable clouds.
He looked around the tents before finding one closest to the oasis, he walked towards it, naturally making wavering motions with his body as he adjusted to the sand shifting under him.
He could see the warm red glow of his father's mane casting shadows, and then a lighter softer chuckle than his father's heavier laughter. He almost groaned at the sound, and he prayed it wasn't who he thought it was.
“It's almost as perfect as me,” Nope, Golden Coat was spot on it appeared. The mare he could hear talking was Corona, they didn't really get along that well.
Corona came from a different tribe at a young age, her parents were prisoners of war that the Dunes Tribe liberated and allowed to stay. But she was such a self centered prick it made Golden Coats blood boil. He tried his absolute best to get along with his father's assistant, but good goddess above if she made another snarky remark about his map, he would ram her so hard she wouldn't be able to talk.
Golden Coat took a nice deep calming breath before walking around the tent to see Corona carefully scribing designs on a sundial, and his father, Sundial, appeared to be working on another attempt to tell the time.
Golden Coat didn't quiet see what was so important about his father's work, sundials were accurate enough, there was no need to tell the time at night when you could just watch the moon.
Golden Coat wished he could say that it was his father's obsession with this project that made his mother mark him as unmated. But in all reality, it was her fault that the mated bond couldn't stay strong enough, she loved and mated too young, but since she was the cheifs daughter no one said a word about it.
They had a lot to say once she was the cheif.
Golden Coat shook his head, that was not what he was here to think about. He was here because his father wanted to speak to him. He cleared his throat, but of course Corona reared her hideously pretty muzzle first, the telltale sign she was from another tribe was the fire markings along her body.
It was enough to make him gag.
She wasn't the blood of the sun, not to him anyway.
All species had a blood to the Valkyries, Kirins were the blood of war, Earth Gypsies had blood of Heavens rejected, Frost’s were the blood of ice. Dustie's were blood of sugar and spice, Hunters the blood of primality, and Hippocampis the blood of deep brine.
But right now, Golden Coat couldn't even think of a good insult to throw at her, at least one he could use around his father. She smiled at him and stood up, her horns must've been hidden under her mane.
“Hey Goldy,” Corona purred placing her smaller sculpting took down, “How are you doing? Oh never mind that, how is that little map of yours? You didn't give up on it did you?” She asked as if it was a completely normal conversation.
A Colt of his word, Golden Coat took a few steps forward, his mane flared and rammed his head into hers. With a sickening crack she fell backwards, it appeared he missed her horns, good riddance. Sadly, the sound of horns on skull was enough to get Sundial to look up.
“Gold!” Sundial exclaimed going over to check on Corona, he spoke to her gently for a minute or two, eventually she got to her feet wobbly, hopefully with a concussion, and left for her own tent, no doubt to tell the tail of how Golden Coat son of the chief attacked her unprovoked.
Sundial sighed and looked at Golden Coat, “You need to stop that,” he said to his son, pushing his reading glasses up his muzzle, the wire frame pushing his fur away.
Golden Coat didn't respond to that, “You wanted to see me?” He said, hostility coating his voice, his father knew fully well how much he disliked that brooding center of attention tribeless painted clown.
Sundial looked from his son to the tent, he sighed and took his glasses off, laying them down on the prototype. “I think it's time.” He said, “We need to call a Chieftain meeting.”
Golden Coat nearly choked on air, “A Chieftain meeting? Father are you crazy?” He asked, “One of those haven't happened in nearly a hundred years! And that was about the Tainted! What do you have that could possibly change the winds that much?” He asked with obvious disbelief.
Sundial looked back to his tent, his eyes glazing over for a moment with that look of unintelligible fear and fondness. That simply managed to unnerve Golden Coat, the way he looked at that tent was as if he was possessed.
“Trust me,” Sundial said looking to his son, “I can't tell you yet, but you will know soon my son.” He said touching their foreheads together, “Right now I need you to tell your mother to call upon the Chieftain Code. And I need you to back a bag, we’re going to the Dead Sun.”
Golden Coats blood ran cold, he had heard of the Dead Sun only in stories. The Dead sun was a stretch of the dessert that the sun had never touched, the light just left the sky bare and dark, the stars hid themselves away to leave an empty black void above their heads.
They said that the sand is as black as the coals that lit the fires, and that shards of glass made it glow like the stars had fallen from the heathens and kissed the soft sand of the earth. The bodies of dead and decaying winged creatures littered the land, thinking the heaven kissed sand was the sky on which they flew towards.
For his father, the son of a bastard and a dancer, to not only demand a chieftain meeting, but to say it was to be held in the Dead Sun? That was as close as you could get to asking for death he could get.
But Golden Coat said nothing, shutting his mouth. He walked away from the tent and towards Bronze ram, he didn't need to look at his father anymore.
But of course, he had to glance back, he saw a flash of red, turned again and continued walking.
"Fate has a funny way of dragging us down with itself. Wouldn't you say?" Bear Claw said, blowing the smoke from the embers of the great red wood through the pipe again, coloring the air with a puff of deep red.
Sharp Wit didn't look up, he could smell the red wood, could probably find the exact tree it came from. He was concentrated on the smallest pup of the litter, a white mane like his own and soft tan coat.
Her eyes were closed, and she was mewling with the rest of the newborns, and yet he couldn't raise his gaze from her, his littlest daughter.
"Alpha Bear Claw," Sharp Wit said, finally looking up, "What do you need me to do?" He asked, if it meant protecting the smallest pup, he would do it.
Bear Claw smiled, a soft hum as she blew the smoke once again. “It's simple,” she said her sharp teeth glowing in the candle light, “Find the pony who has been taking leaves from the glowing willows, and kill them.” She said it as if it was the easiest thing in the world. But Sharp Wit knew just by the flick of her tail, the ones she sent before didn't do it.
Either they were killed or severely injured.
Sharp Wit didn't feel like asking which it was. He was a tracker in the village, hardly the best, why Bear Claw had come to him while looking at his newest pup was a mystery. Why not go to the far superior female Hunters? Especially if others had failed before.
Perhaps to find a pony with enough drive not to die. To specifically grab Sharp Wit when he just met his newborn pup, a clever move on her part. Unless she had an ulterior motive, since the Breeding happened not too long ago.
The Breeding was the time when all the males went into heat, to compensate willing females met up anonymously with the males and agreed to mate. The males rarely knew who their partner was, but the females always knew. Traditionally if the female likes what they felt and saw they would approach them after and ask them to help her raise the pups.
Sharp Wit wasn't hurt by the fact the one who smelled of citrus whom he spent a night with in a dark room hadn't approached him after. He was a rather plain pony, quite, aggressive, dry, nothing important. It could've been the fact that she only gave birth to one pup, maybe she was too embarrassed.
Traditionally a litter consisted of more than four pups, the biggest one was fourteen. To only give birth to one, that was nothing a mare could brag about, it showed infertility and their lack of maternal instinct.
To find one pup to call his own and the mother nowhere in sight wasn't as uncommon as it would sound, it was actually more common especially if they didn't like what they had. A win for a win, and right now, he had a mission he needed to complete.
Bowing his head to his Alpha, he left the hut, and stuck his nose to the air, crackling fires of cherry wood and the off smell of cooking meat filled the air, he walked away and towards the glowing willows.
The glowing willows have been the burial site for the Hunters for generations, decades before the Tainted and before the discovery of the other species. Before earth gypsys.
Earth Gypsies were wicked ponies, at least that's what Sharp Wit had been told by alphas betas and omegas alike. And he couldn't exactly deny them, he's seen the parts of the forests where war had broken out between Hunters and Earths, he had seen the veterans from those battles. He had read the scrolls that told of a time where Hunters were used like dogs, kept as pets, forced to fight each other, or used to hunt for sport.
But no matter what, no matter how deep Sharp Wit dug, Hunters have never won. Time and time again Earth Gypsies had Won, through stubbornness, through numbers, and through dark magic.
Sharp Wit shivered at the thought, fallen leaves crunched under his hooves as he ducked under hanging ivy. The only reason Hunters were kept around were because of their use to the Earth gypsies, and when they got tired of them they tossed them to the side and let them grown on their own.
Of course, little factions of Gypsies would come now and again, singing the songs of a forgotten tongue and stealing away newborns and adults alike before disappearing into the night. Not a trace to be found.
Sharp Wit stopped by the stone fence that surrounded the glowing willows. He brushed his cheek against a smooth stone next to the opening, worn down by other Hunters doing the same, marking their scent.
Sharp Wit took a deep breath before stepping into the forest, he shivered as his senses were filled with an eerie cold and soft wordless whispers of the dead. The lilac and soft pink glowing leaves of the willows gave the fog a ghastly glow as it rolled around the trees.
He hated this part. His senses were dulled in this place, replaced by a false sense of security, that sickly sweet feeling of being among family, the heat brushing over his body like the waves of the fire from his den.
That was the lure of this place, the importance of it. Sharp Wit learned long ago that staying in this forest for more than a day would shut your body down completely. This feeling of awareness was dulled, the feeling that you could sleep was a lure only the dead could enjoy.
His tail flicked in annoyance, nicking a tree in accident leaving a shallow cut in the bark. He winced as the almost watery sap slowly crawled down the bark, he could smell its sickly sweet scent beckoning him closer, and closer, and closer yet.
But he managed to ignore and continue on.
Sharp Wit noticed several things as he made a round through the grove, several branches had been snapped off of several glowing willows, quite recently as the sap still dropped from the broken edges like a toxic tonic.
But that was all, no wide hoof prints in the earth, not a trace of fur or mane left. The culprit was a ghost among spirits, and it made Sharp Wits stomach do an angry flip, he hated losing a lead. But there was no lead to be found, and that just made him angrier.
Then there was a whistle.
Sharp Wits ears tracked it to its origin immediently, turning quickly he saw a cream colored earth gypsy sitting in a tree like a lounging puma. She had an ugly cow colored pattern over her entire body, the patches a dark tan color. Even her hair was a quite awful color, a dark pine green, more of a swampy green at this point.
“Hey there,” She crooned in a sweet voice like the sap from the willows, she gracefully stood up and jumped down. Sharp Wit expected a noise when she landed, but when she touched the ground it was utterly silent, as if she wasn’t there at all. That made him take a step back in surprise, his eyes narrowing at her, his fur bristled up as he growled.
She laughed at him as if he was a puppy, “Oh my, what a brave boy.” She said patting the top of his head, he wanted to bite her hoof but he found he couldn’t, feeling a drop of liquid on his nose he knew why, she was using magic to keep him still. “They never taught you how we had to evolve to avoid your hunting did they? We have no scent, we leave no prints, our hearts make no noise nor does the rest of us.” She leaned down so Sharp Wit could get a good smell of her breeding gland on her neck, nothing.
Sharp Wit felt his heart drop, this was a suicide mission from the start. No wonder the Alpha sent him out, she wanted to save the best, she wanted to deter her at least, so she gave her the males.
The earth gypsy laughed, “Oh my, what a look of defeat on your face.” She said releasing him from her magic as she backed up, “Go back to your tribe if you want,” she said, “Orrrr, you can chase me, after all bringing home a silent killer would be a very good way to raise your reputation.” She said before running off silently.
Sharp Wit watched her skeptically, he should just go home, tell Alpha Bear Claw he scared her off and go back to his newest pup.
But at the same time, he hated losing a lead. Especially when they just gave him a challenge to go with it, he didn’t care about reputation, but he did care about bringing that sick mare down.
He flicked his tail, before following after the earth gypsy.
That was the one thing floating around Glowing Glass’ mind as she calmly walked on the branches, they swayed under her weight, but remained perfectly silent, the leaves moved as if they were being ruffled but made no noise, instead creating a space of silence.
How easy it was to capture such a stupid little Hunter. They were always such a prideful race to start with, acting like the hopeless victims of the Earth Gypsies horrible tyrannical reign of evergrowing violence.
Oh go suck a big male chicken.
Earth Gypsies had it just as bad, if anything worse. They were the supposided tribal ones, the ones constantly attacked by the Gypsies. But one good look shatters that entire argument, Hunters live in peace, the best richest parts of the forests, while Gypsies were forced to live in the swamps. Rotting and festering away, filled with wildlife yes, but they weren’t the meat eaters were they?
Glowing Glass shook her head lightly, her mane obscuring her vision as she walked above the male. Once the trees started thinning she pulled the magic out of her deepest memories, pain, distrust, broken, all wrapped in a veil of power. Black tears of ink trailed down her cheeks, as she stepped on air as if it was solid.
She was silent none the less, he was interesting, he had a woodsy smell, like pine and maple.
Gods she’d love to see one of them in person. If it wasn’t for the one or two Birds of Paradise guarding the perimeter she would. But, of course, the Kirins chose the Hunters, no matter how much the Earth Gypsies, they’d never be seen as more than tribe of insane ponies with insane ideologies.
If she wasn’t aware she was following a particularly juicy kill, Glowing Glass would’ve snorted. Of course, she wasn’t alive for the Tainted, nor was she around for the Purge, better known as the Purga de chivo expiatorio among Gypsies.
Gypsies were a wonderful species, if it wasn’t for their species The Helms would’ve never been made in the first place, the Tainted would’ve never been stopped. But, no matter what the masses did, the majority spoke for them all. And then. They all paid.
Everyone had blamed Earth Gypsies for the Tainted becoming so strong, for Gypsies allowing their numbers to grow so vastly by sleeping with other species.
Tensions were high, especially with Earth Gypsies and Hunters being next door neighbors, already high strung. And then, something or another happened, and hell broke loose.
The Kirins cast a dampening field with the strengths of thousands behind it, the Birds of Paradise patrolled the sky, chasing any of the Gypsies that tried to leave back in, Frost unicorns froze mares with their young inside caves to suffocate slowly, Dusties healed the injuries just to throw them back in and watch them suffer, Hippocampi pulled Gypsies under waters that they tried to pass and drowned them, Valkyries set fire to the trees and burned colts and mares alike alive, Thestrals made sure to shut down any resistance attempts. And just when the Gypsies thought they would be safe, the hunters arrived.
It was horrible before, but after that it was slaughter.
Millions of Gypsies died that day, and more were injured. The simple thought of how easily their species could be wiped out left a bad taste in her mouth.
Apparently, if her mother hadn’t been away for trading she would’ve been killed as well.
Glowing Glass shook her head and stopped when the Hunter did as well, heading over to a branch and laying down on it. If that pathetic Hunter didn’t have a purpose he’d be dead and hung on a willow by now.
If she thought about it, he’d probably die anyway. Good riddance to him. She’d already lead more than a dozen away, Hunters and their pride. They’d never escape it, that’s all they were about wasn’t it? For a species so content accepting the pity of others for something that happened thousands of years ago, they sure enjoyed making it sound like they were the only species with honor.
Enough of that.
Glowing Glass landed on the ground behind him silently, he was rather well built, perhaps if tensions weren’t so high, if she didn’t want to place her dull teeth around his delicate throat and rip it out, then perhaps they could be friends.
But that wasn’t the case. The prophecy was coming, it was already spoken yes, an old mare's tale, but Gypsies always knew. And if that was the case, The Helms would be needed, and to do that, they needed subjects. As cruel as it sounded, some would have to die before Guardians could be found, as far as the totems could tell none have been found yet.
That would change of course, species after species were already feeling the effects. The Helms were persuasive creatures, how? Now that was a secret only an elder could tell, and since they were all killed in the purge, it would remain a mystery.
Right now, all Glowing Glass had to do was knock him out. And she did. It was simple, Hunters tails were sharpened at the end for efficient fighting, but it would be useless if he couldn’t sense her. So, all she had to do was find his precious little bonding gland, a soft breath of air on the sensitive skin made him bristle up, but not turn. Next, the gentle press of a muzzle against it, followed by a churning noise no matter how faint. Hunters were so physical, so close that touch like this wouldn’t be seen anywhere else, felt anywhere else.
Then you strike.
While the Hunter was dazed, eyes half lidded and tail flicking in lazy pleasure, Glowing Glass bit down on the precious spot, a little to the left of the gland. It was a fail safe she’d like to think, after the purge the remaining Gypsies came together for one last spell, one that would give the Earth Gypsies an advantage if it was to happen again. On a Hunter, all you had to do was bite, and they were out like a light. But you had to be careful, too hard, and their heads roll off their necks.
Once the Hunter was grounded Glowing Glass whistled, And out of the trees came eight colts, each with merged features. Hybrids.
“Little Glassy came through.” Raven, Glowing Glass’ older brother purred, the nubs that would’ve held his wings shuddered as he stretched himself. His slender dark purple body slinked out of the shadows like a sly cat, his peacock tail was shorter than a regular Bird Of Paradise. But his eyes were warm brown, meaning that he was kind at heart.
“Of course she would,” Waxing Candle hummed, his swirling horns barely curved behind his ears, the flames that floated an inch above his skull gave him a ghostly aura, he was lean and tail like his father, his clear eyelids blinking as he looked the Hunter over. “She’s our sister, we raised her well.”
Wolfsbane snorted at that, his long hair was mostly held back by a metal band, but a good portion was covering his eyes. Even as his sister, Glowing Glass wasn’t sure what color his eyes were, or what his voice sounded like.
“I hope you mean I raised her well,” Red Chalk said as he followed the other three out, taking point as the oldest soon enough. He had a thick coat, and a horn with little shards missing, “While the rest of you were off gallivanting I want procuring the education of our younger sibling.”
“Geez,” Nightshade said, stretching his leathery wings outwards as he materialized next to the group , “Don’t anyone tell big bad Chalk that he’s the second oldest. Or related to us even, that works too.” He snickered, his light colored iris’ contrasted his black eyes sharply.
“Too late,” Stonefish chuckled wetly from the river, his gills and spines flaring up in anticipation, smacking his tail against the water to keep himself preoccupied while watching. It was a new record at this point.
“At the end of the day, just remember.” Moth said, shaking his dusty brown wings a bit, “when in doubt, just blame Crossthread. He doesn’t have a spine anyway, do you?” He asked brushing his hair out of his own face.
The cloaked one with a curved horn rolled his eyes, “Correct.” Was all Crossthread said, and that was it.
Glowing Glass rolled her eyes at her siblings, “Would you all get going? We’re going to burn through the ten we have real quick, finding a guardian is harder than it looks.” She said, she still had to hear from Gold Dust, or Sacred Jewel for that matter, they were all across the land at this point tracking down candidates from all species. Whether the government allowed it or not.
“Really?” Nightshade asked sarcastically, “I though the first one who kneeled down in front of it and recited old mare mary would be crowned.” He said, rolling his eyes.
“Run.” Was the simple, unanimous response from the other seven brothers as Glowing Glass glared at him. Nightshade, being of considerable intelligence, ran. Disappeared was more like it, ah, the beauty of being half Delude Thestral. Specifically Delude Thestral.
Glowing Glass rolled her eyes at her brothers as they dispersed to look for more subjects. She looked back down at the Hunter. He was still asleep, sighing she caught him in her magic.
So maybe she lied to herself a bit earlier. This was far from a thrill, far from a fair fight, had she lost all eight of her older hybrid brothers would swoop in to save the day.
Someday she hoped that she would truly be able to fight him, just as they were, no intoxication, nothing like that. Just pure fighting. But right now, that wasn’t the time, wouldn’t be for a very long period to come.
The light in the cell was abysmal. Kept minimalistic as it was all across the empire, outside the thin slivers of moonlight would reflect on the snow and give the world a warm glow. But inside a cell purely meant to keep all light out save for the single rectangular hole that was cut in the ice, it was dark.
Shard hated the dark, for many reasons really. If he was feeling brave he would say it was because anyone could be hiding in it. If he was being honest with himself, it reminded him of a past he wished to forget. Everyone would wish to forget. While most found solitude in the darkness, all Shard could find was pain.
After all, he supposed once you experienced enough in the dark you would start to associate it with the emotions in which you responded with. In most cases, he was filled with an horrible amount of fear. Just thinking about it made his fur bristle as a shudder ran down his spine.
Shard could just barely see the writings on the wall from the past generation, the scribed words of tongue lost in the past and the symbols of half completed spells. The tick marks from the horns of Frost Unicorns he would never meet as they counted down the days of their childhood.
The chill of the cell seeped through his coat, forcing him to find a isolated corner where he could lay down and curl up to conserve body heat. He had to make sure his dewclaws were retracted before he could, he’d seen the horrible messes others made when they forgot to retract theirs, so he made sure it was in his best interest to always retract his.
Shard exhaled softly, letting the air color his breath a soft white. When Frost Unicorns went into conservation mode, the world around them seemed to speed up in time.The simple act of keeping his own organs warm enough to continue their work, consumed his foalhood. But that wouldn’t be in vain, he completed the trials like he was supposed to, he made it to the top ten of his generation. He would make it out of that cell.
The sun passed overhead, or at least he believed it did from what little had passed through the sliver of a window. When the light outside faded away completely and left his cell in complete darkness, his heart stopped. The Silent Hours were the worst times for him, there was a gap of nothingness between the sun setting and the moon rising, nothing at all, simply darkness.
The Silent Hours were when the Bestia came out, horrible creatures with fangs longer than Shards foreleg. Thick fur that kept them from being affected by magic, and secondary organs that kept them alive. The only way to fight them was head on, even then, many Frost Unicorns lost their dewclaws in the fight. If they survived at all.
And during those three, painfully long hours, Bestia roamed the streets like stray dogs. They had no sight, no smell, but a very keen sense of hearing. Hence, the Silent Hours. You kept quiet, unless you wanted to be eaten alive, wanted your family to be found as well. Prisoners from war were tossed out at this time, disobedient citizens, Shard’s fellow Pact.
It didn’t take much for Shard to shiver, but the very thought of what had happened to his brethren, his sisters in arms. It was horrible.Tossed out blindly in the Silent Hour with a noise machine in place of one of their eyes, and left to die a horrible death.
Shard had only faced one Bestia before, even then he didn’t know what they truly looked like. He tucked himself away in a corner and let the creature slaughter the others he was with, they tried to fight, they tried to be brave, they just couldn’t shut up.
The Pact of his generation was supposed to be a strong one, with the ruling leaders own child thrown into the mix as well. Any foal born between the time of the Day of Silence, or the Night of Sound would be categorized into one of two pacts of the full rotation of the sky. Shard was of the Day, and he hated it.
His Pact was brave, was fearless, they were defiant in the face of the leadership and questioned everything laid out in front of him. So many died, there were so many dark Silent Hours filled with roars and horrible screaming. The sounds of bone crushing of flesh ripping, one of his friends, Vanilla Icing was killed right outside his cell. He could hear her begging for help as the Beastia tore her apart limb by limb, he tried to tune it out, but even when he was conserving his energy everything happened in slow motion.
Now Shard was one of the few left.
He was kept away from the others, he always had been. In a way, he was glad for that, he didn’t get to know anyone, didn’t need to watch them die. He was dragged out of his thoughts by the sound of the ice melting, the outline of a door appearing, and then it opening. Black Ice, the Pact leader was there with a familiar stupid grin in his face, “Hey Shard, how's it going?” He chatted up absently.
Shard looked at him confused, “Ice,” He said as he unfolded his legs and stood up, dewclaws coming out. “What’s going on?” It took him a moment to realized that the Silent Hours had just ended, but, training waited until the first hours of moon, not the moment the Silent Hours ended. Something was wrong.
Black Ice smiled, “You’ve been chosen for a mission,” he said simply, “A diplomatic one at that, come on,” He said tilting his head to the hallway, “Walk with me.” Shard couldn’t think of a reason to even argue, so he followed.
Well, actually he did have a few questions. “A diplomatic mission?” Shard asked, “You know I can’t do that, I’m an ice smith, not a diplomatic ambassador.” He said tightly as he followed the much more limber, “If Anything Snow Storm would be better suited for it, He is the high prince.”
Black ice snorted, “He also doesn’t get along with Birds of Paradise either last i checked.” He said with a bark of dry laughter, Black Ice and Snow Storm never quite got along, for reasons Shard had yet to see.
“But why me? Why not Slope, Frigid, or even Penguin, Penguin is the halfling!” Shard argued weakly, using Penguin was a low blow. Poor girl had a hard enough time from the other Pact members, being a halving. She would be known as an Alkyonide, if he could remember his lesson correctly. Poor thing, didn’t even have a horn, it was a miracle she survived the trials at all.
Black Ice flicked Shard with his tail, “Shard, you’re the only Male left, Paradise’s would be fine with a female to work with, but Prince Malkoha is sweet on males.” He said with another absent snort, Shard personally didn’t understand how the prince would find him appealing, or even, how Shard find the prince appealing.
But, Shard has never resisted before, and had no reason to start now. All he had to do was complete this mission, and he would be well on his way. After all, the Birds of Paradise were the only ally of the Frost Unicorns, no other tribe dared get involved. It was in his best interests to keep them happy, and sated. The rest of the way to the main square was quiet, Black Ice would know He simply didn’t want to talk.
It took Shard a moment once he saw the pale moonlight on the icy road, it wasn’t the moon. It was torches of blue flame surrounding the square, and in the middle laid the bodies of Slope, Frigid, and Penguin. All horrible mauled to the point of nearly being a pile of half frozen meet, Shards breath caught in his throat as bile tried to push it away.
Shard couldn’t even ask what had happened once he saw Emperor Glaze, and Empress Iced Lake, between them was Snow Storm, the prince. And in his delicate magic was the Helm.
Shards blood froze.
The Helm of Frost.
They had The Helm of Frost.
Was that what they did? Kill them all trying to find he chosen one? The one that came in a prophecy that had long ago become obsolete? What were they doing?! Why were they doing it? Why to only the Pact of the Day?
The only bird of Paradise present lifted his head, the flames reflected off his own Helm, the Helm of Paradise. He smiled, “Ah, I’m glad you could join us.” He said walking over, passing Shard, making sure to drag his feathers under his chin and against his side, making a full circle around him. But stopping short so his mouth was right next to Shards ear.
