Þule
A FEW YEARS BEFORE SOMBRA WENT MAD
Lifting his head to look into the mirror, Æclypse took a long, nervous stare at himself.
He was dressed in his finest robe, blue with gold trim that his mother had personally commissioned and gifted to him on his previous birthday. Letting a breath slowly exhale, he inspected his mane for any hairs out of place, not that he was so vain, but this was not just about him, it was about honoring his family, his kingdom, and their tradition. The golden bracelets that held his mane in order were polished and gleaming, inscribed with Runes that signified a few of the patron gods of his bloodline.
The uneasy feeling in his stomach grew moreso by the hour, tomorrow would be the most important day of his life. The Agoge was the trial by which every stallion in Thule had to pass through, a rite by which he gained entry into his full status as a citizen of the kingdom. Comprised as a series of war games against an equal number of Yaks, who likewise used it as a means to welcome their young warriors into the ranks of adulthood, it was a test of all of one’s skill and strength.
Nopony could circumvent the trial, especially not the nobility. In fact, it was the nobility most of all who had to prove themselves as capable leaders during the event, as they were the ones to whom the rest of the kingdom would look to in the future. For a young stallion to make any open display of shrinking from this duty, or refuse to participate was unheard of, as it would betray his as a coward and almost guarantee his exclusion from the rest of society. No stallion would respect him, and no mare would tolerate such weakness in a husband. There was simply no room for it in Thule.
The wargames themselves consisted of a series of mock battles, each iteration lead by somepony different from the last. The size of each side varied from year to year, depending on the number of young stallions of age, but arrangements were usually made to keep them as even as possible. The Unicorns and the Yaks would take turns in different conditions, whether it be open field formation battle, ambush tactics, capture the flag, or prolonged defense, among other events.
Competition was typically respectful and cordial, but it was common in the heat of battle for tempers to flare and egos to collide. The supervision of elders from both sides helped to ensure fair combat, and adherence to the rules. Much was at stake in the Agoge, pride for the individual warrior, for his chosen warband, and for his kingdom. It also served as a reminder to each side that they remained capable and ready for real battle, thus, ensuring the lasting peace.
Among the Unicorns, each year’s selection was called a warband, a connection that stayed with the participants throughout their lives, bonding them to each other. When the Agoge was concluded, the warband was named after the stallion who had distinguished himself the most among his peers. In previous years, the current king Rubicon had won this honor for himself, and his troop was remembered as ‘Rubicon’s Warband’.
That was for those coming of age. For the older stallions, other series under more flexible guidelines took place, done more for sport and glory then as a sacred rite. It was here that one could secure their status as Thane, the best of the mighty northern warriors. Being a Thane was also the best way for the non-nobles to acquire privilege in Thulian society, many respected bloodlines got their start when an ancestor earned for themselves the rank, including Ultima.
Æclypse, looking at the torc around his neck, reflected on the look in his father’s eyes when he gifted it to him. The King was not known for his outward expressions of emotion, but he could see the pride and love for his first born in his stoic face. Members of his own warband had remained in his company in following years, his two closest comrades, Wiglaf and Iambic Pentameter had become tutors and mentors to Sombra and he.
Swallowing a stone of anxiety he turned his face side-to-side, inspecting for any flaws he might have overlooked. He was canting sideways for a look when there came a knock at he door.
“Come in.” Æclypse bid them.
“You’d be wise not to hassle over yourself all night Æclypse.” Stepping into the room, was an older stallion, dressed in his own fine robes of clean white that hung from his shoulders over beige fur. A bushy, but groomed white beard sprung from his jaw line, and framed a face that was slightly wrinkled and studded by deep brown eyes.
This was Iambic Pentameter, “The others are all waiting to see you.”
“I know, Iambic.” Æclypse greeted him with a respectful nod, “I just want to make them all proud.”
Pentameter walked over and inspected his student, “You give too much thought to tonight. Tomorrow is what you should be more concerned about.”
“You’re right.” Æclypse nodded his head slightly, looking up to his teacher who beamed back proudly.
“Is Sombra down there already? He’s the only pony I can think of who would be more uncomfortable than me down there, he he.”
Pentameter’s eyebrows pitched in the center, “Your brother, actually, has been even more intractable than you. He’s implanted himself in his study.”
“I’ll go talk to him.” walking past Iambic, Æclypse paused at the doorway. “Better me than father I think.”
Sombra had always been his own creature. Ever since we were colts he has set himself apart from the rest of us. Recently he’s become more reclusive, pouring over old books in the library, spending hours alone in study. Father wants to force him out into the world more, but mother tends to coddle him. I think her love prevents her from admitting that her youngest son is troubled.
Coming up to my brother’s room, it struck me that even his door seemed dark and brooding. “Sombra!” I called out, knocking on the iron-bound wood.
“What?!” He angrily called back from within, no doubt I had disturbed something very interesting.
“It is me, will you let me in?”
There was a pause. “Æclypse?” His voice softened to speak my name, realizing that it was not some inconvenient nuisance that had come.
“Yes brother, what are you up too?”
Instead of answering me, I heard the door unlatching, and it drifted open with a moaning creak. I stepped inside, and was immediately confronted by the pungent smell of incense. The room itself was mostly dark, and the smoke from the burning rods wafted along ethereally between the shadows and the dancing light of the candles.
I had not the recent occasion to be in his room often, but I could not recall it being in such an ominous state before. Books and scrolls piled atop one another, laying open, strewn on desks, in stacks, and on the floor. His windows were shuttered, and not even a sliver of the moonlight slithered in from the outside.
Sombra sat curled over in his tall-backed chair, an old tome with ragged edges and tinted corners before him. Surrounded by candles, the way he looked at me was unsettling. The shadows cast by the tiny fires left his face obscured, with only the light of his eyes to peek out. I came close, two or three paces away.
“What is it brother?” He asked me in a low voice, his green iris’ gleaming in the darkness. “Is something the matter?”
“Are you coming down to dinner? Surely mother and father will expect you to be there.”
He didn’t answer me at first, like he was trying to remember what I was talking about.
“Ah… your dinner, that explains the opulent attire. I had forgotten all about it, I’m sorry.”
It became no less unnerving to hear him speak, like some phantasm from a nightmare had engaged me in conversation.
“Not surprising.” I said looking around the room. “I can see you’ve kept yourself occupied.”
“Still…” The book before him was engulfed in his magic and closed shut with a sharp thump. “I should be there for you, this is the eve of your big day. You’ve only a few precious hours before you and Parsifal are neck-deep in battle with the Yaks.”
He stepped out from his corner, and there his face was exposed. Though he carried his head high, I could see the weariness in the wrinkles of his fur. His mane was unkempt and his bangs hung loosely to the side.
“Give me a few minutes to dress myself properly, and I will join you and the others shortly.”
I managed a tight smile, and placed a hoof on his shoulder. “You know it is not for me as much as it is for our family. Next year it will be your turn.”
He seemed to relax a bit, and allowed his lip to curl up. “Can you imagine it brother? Me fighting the yaks?”
“I think you will do better than anypony expects you too.” I told him. I used my magic to light his chandelier before he could object. He was caught off-guard and grunted as he flinched from the sudden illumination.
“Besides, how will you ever catch the eye of Kelda looking like this.”
He gave me an uncomfortable side glance before turning away from me. Kelda was the daughter of another noble family, Sombra’s age, and often enjoyed flirting with him. The attention had not gone unnoticed, and our parents considered the pairing a worthy one.
Marriage for love was not common in Thule, but it did occur. Nobles virtually never married for love, and it was unheard of for royalty. Though that did not mean that couples could not find love for each other. My mother and father were known to be fond of each other, and were thusly betrothed. They have lived a happy marriage ever since. Couplings were either considered worthy or not, and while my father was the prince, my mother came from a very old bloodline, the Carolingians. Many considered my father to be the one marrying up.
“I find that I am vexed by her constant attempts to win my favor.” Sombra growled, breaking away from me. Using his magic to open his wardrobe and sort through his clothes, he continued to vent his frustration.
“I have never returned any of her advances, never given her the slightest wink or smile. Why does she find such amusement in bothering me?”
He spoke the last few words with a flare of anger, tearing a red and gold robe from its hanger.
“Perhaps she finds you handsome?” I teased. “No doubt she is enthralled to some hex.”
Sombra fixed me with suspicious eyes, then tossed a one of his shirts from the closet at me. He began laughing, one of the few times in his adult life I ever heard such a thing.
“If a hex of anypony, then it would be mother’s work no doubt!”
His humor struck me, and I chuckled in turn. “If mother had her way, she’d present you like some champion’s prize to Thule’s noble daughters!”
My brother then proceeded to strut about his room like he was some purebred, throwing his mane back in a tawdry masculine display. Finally he shooed me away with a flapping of the robe he intended to wear. “Leave me to my care, and I will sate their desire to see me squirm.”
“I’ll save you a seat.” I spoke over my shoulder as I exited his room. I felt the door shut behind me once I crossed the threshold, little did I conceive that I had just shared one of the closest moments I would ever have with him.
Steeling my nerve, I made my way down to the revelry. I crossed paths with a few of the household guard, some of whom had known me since I was a colt.
“Everypony’s waiting for you.” Said Nordschild with a smile. He was the Guard captain and another member of my father’s warband. “Take care not to eat too much. It’ll slow you down tomorrow.”
“So Wiglaf has reminded me. He spoke from experience I think.”
A sharp snort was loosed from Nordschild, and he continued to talk through laughter that shook his belly. “He…. He retched on the first charge! Hahahaah!”
That was the first time I had ever heard of that, but I resolved to use it against Wiglaf at some point. I left them and went down the stairs, deciding to take the longer path through the library. The portrait of Princess Platinum hung under the apex at the western side. It was one of my favorite paintings in the whole castle, and one that I always spent a minute or two with whenever I went there to study. She looked down on visitors with a soft expression, her delicate neck surrounded by the fur trimmed purple gown. A pale lavender mane cradled her lovely face, and a necklace bejeweled with matching blue gems hugged against her fur.
I would have liked to have known her. She was remembered fondly in Thule for her bravery, the journey she undertook with Clover the Clever put an end to the Great Winter. She lived in a time long before the Agoge, before even the great war of King Thalamar. The old order had been upset by the Windigos, and she knew that a new path forward would be their only salvation. She served as an inspiration thereafter, though she never again set hoof on the soil of her birthright. I wondered what she might have thought of our violent ritual.
No pony had been so pivotal in Unicorn history since Vortigern, but that was much before her time.
I offered the immortal princess my usual nod, and proceeded through the doors to her right. Stepping out into the hallway that led to a side door in the Thronehall, I could hear the voices of the others, laughter and conversation filling the air with a warm echo of merriment. Their shadows danced on the wall like marionettes stretching up along the masonry.
“There you are cousin!” I heard a voice cry from behind me. Farther down in the hall, Parsifal cantered to my side, his face relieved to see me.
“I’ve had a dreadful time trying to keep them all entertained. I’ve already run out of that joke I know.” He said with a wink.
Parsifal was my cousin on mother’s side, and my best friend. We had grown up together, and tomorrow we would both face the Agoge. We would not just be friends and cousins, we would be warbound. That night he wore his own finery, a straw-gold robe, and a pendant given to him by his parents. Most never thought of Parsifal as a serious pony, as he could usually be found in the company of mares, or engaged in poetry or music. But I knew that he had a very genuine heart, possessed of a great love for his home, and dreamed of serving Thule with honor.
His wit always found purchase with me, and I gave way to a fit of chuckling.
“Surely then, you have left a few of them left standing for me.”
He joined in the mirth. Though we had our different characters, our friendship seemed a natural fit. I was much more the reserved type, like my father. He however was outgoing, charming, a magnet for attention. But in one another we found a balance, our families were happy to think that the future of the kingdom was going to be in good hooves.
“Seriously Æclypse, tomorrow is the biggest day of our lives.” His demeanor straightened, and he looked at me with a slight glint of trepidation.
“You know that battle has never been my strong suit as it has been yours, I ah… I worry that I may not appear as gallant as I should tomorrow.” He tried to make it sound joking, but I could hear the doubt in his voice.
It was true, combat was one of the areas that he was lacking. I had grown up with the training of Wiglaf and my father, and no small amount of personal talent. Parsifal’s upbringing had been more aristocratic.
“Fear not my friend.” I told him. “Stick by me, and together we shall do our families and Thule proud.”
He nodded his head with a newfound confidence. “That we will.”
The sounds of the party beckoned to us, and we moved into the hall without further distraction. Whereupon we were greeted with cheers.