The forest was not as peaceful as the kingdom of Thicket. Creatures and foul beasts roamed the wilds, looking for their next meal, be it something as insignificant as a rabbit or as noble and mighty as a deer. While Thicket itself never seemed to worry about such beasts, it was not so for other kingdoms, such as Dawn Break. Dawn Break was a kingdom to the north, a Territory belonging to the Nudonian Empire, a small nation if there ever was one, but with the territories under its rule, it was feared among the greatest kingdoms in the world.
Dawn Break was a relatively new country, existing only for a century and a half. It had been won via a peace agreement between Nudonia and Thicket, on the condition that the two kingdoms respect the other’s boarders, and that the people of Dawn Break never hunt upon Thicket lands. The people of Dawn Break received two sections of the forest to be used as they saw fit and the northern fields which Thicket had no interest in.
It was now a country that was beloved by its people from the humblest little filly to the mighty lord that dwelled in Dawn Break Castle. Of course, being so close to Thicket’s great forest meant that a bevy of dangerous and vicious beast would sometimes wonder out into a farmer’s pasture.
Of the many creatures, none were more feared than the warg. What was a warg? A warg was akin to the wolf. Their fur was black as the night sky and their eyes were glowing and soulless. Their backs were lined with thin, long thorns and spikes that could shoot out at predators and prey alike. A warg’s claws were said to be able to rip into a pony’s hide with ease and their teeth could reduce nearly all flesh to ribbons.
How unfortunate and terrible it was when a warg had come out of the woods two weeks ago. At first it only attacked sheep and cows, livestock. But on the third day, before the sun had set, it had happened upon a mother and her child. By the time their patriarch found them in the field, they were nearly unrecognizable, save for blood stained clothes and trinkets that they were gifted on their birthdays. When the farmer sent word to their lord, weeping and broken, the lord did not hesitate to send some of his best men to slay the beast. Many soldiers, upon hearing the mission, thought the death cruel and needless and they worked endlessly to track the beast. One group were sent to guard the pastures and farm houses, the second tried to track the beast, though their hunt was normally halted when the beast escaped into Thicket’s territory.
However, today fortune had smiled upon them, and the beast was being driven into Nudonian land. Gallopers, strong stallions and griffons armed with spears and shields, jabbed and prodded the beast after luring it with a roasted hog. The warg let out snarls and barks as it rushed across the field. Without proper footing, it was impossible for it to shoot its spines at its attackers, and with so many, it would leave itself open to a deathly strike. Soon, the soldiers encircled the beast, pointing spears towards it while hiding behind great iron shields. If the beast lunged at them, they would prod it with a spear in an attempt to skewer the foul creature.
The spines on the beast’s back raised and shot out every which way. Needles clanged and bounced off the shields but soon all became quiet as the warg began to circle its new enclosure until something caught it felt a new presence. Its ears and nose twitched. It smelled of sulfur and coal, things that had it crouch low in anticipation of a fight. High in the air there came a red blur that soon crashed down into the center of the ring.
It was a dragon. His landing shook the very ground on which they stood. Under his grey cloak, was a few pieces of armor. Two steel boots and two gauntlets were all the armor he needed, at least in these lands. The rest of his garments were simple cloth. His armor, Nudonian in make, looked dull and was a dark silver, but it was stronger then the armor of nearly all other nations, save for the mithril mails of Equestria, the Adamantine armor of Arcania, and the human metal orichalcum, which was used primarily by the now extinct race. Nudonian armor was forged from titanite, named after the mighty beasts that were said to rule the Earth ages ago.
The dragon was on all fours and sneered at the beast who roared back at him. His name was Garble Ironscale, a youth of only twenty-three, though he was as respected as a man thrice his age. Throughout the land, he had been known by the masses as the Spider Slayer, the Axe Wielder, and Beast Hunter. Garble stood up and from under a grey cloak, drew forth a silver axe. Its edge was sharp, and on the opposite side was a hammer head. The handle was long, fitting for such a heavy looking weapon, but Garble found no difficulty wielding it with only one hand. He had named the weapon Bahamut’s Fang, after the patriarch of dragonkin.
As Garble approached the beast, it shot forth three quills, a warning to its opponent. Garble let the quills hit him, unaffected by them even as they seemed to stick into his body. This was because Ironscale was more than just a name, it was a description of him and his clan. His hide was so thick, no weapon, save for a dragon slayer spear could pierce it.
Taking out the quills and dropping them to the ground, Garble swung his axe and hit the beast square in the face. It let out a yelp before shaking its head to regain its wits and lunging, hitting Garble in the gut and sending him sliding across the floor. The beast pounced and landed atop Garble, snapping its jaws close to his face. Quick as he could, before it was able to bite again, Garble shoved the handle of his axe into the beast’s maw to keep it at bay. Meanwhile, the men held their ground. If they broke formation, there was a chance that the beast may escape again, and if that happened, they would lose more days to this hunt and risk losing more soldiers and civilians.
Letting out a grunt, Garble managed to kick the warg off him, before scrambling to his feet. The warg seemed to recover quick and let out a roar before dashing towards the dragon. Garbled allowed the warg to bite down on his arm. It was naught but an itch to him, even as it began to shake and grind its teeth. He made sure to align the axe perfectly with the beast and swung. The blade tore into the warg’s hide, diving deep into its back. His arm was released as the beast let out a howl of pain. Garble tore his axe from it and allowed it to scamper to the far side of the ring. It whimpered and growled as its vile blood leaked from the wound. However, the wound itself was not as fatal as one would have thought, at least not to a warg.
Garble dashed towards the warg, who shot out spines and slashed with his claws. Garble dodged and smashed the warg’s leg with his axe’s hammer head. There was a snap, the beast yelped and fell to the ground. It tried to escape in vain, moving only a yard before collapsing. The warg began to whimper and whine. Its chest raised and fell as it took deep breaths, as if it would somehow relieve it of its pain.
Seeing Garble approach, scowl plastered on his face, the spines on the warg's back raised, but Garble ignored them. The beast, feared by commoners and squires, was now a pitiful mess of fur, quills, and blood. Despite its show of force, it looked towards Garble as if begging for its life. Coming before it, Garble merely raised his axe, its edge gleaming with fire in the sun’s light, and brought it down upon the warg’s head. There was one last pathetic whimper, before the field grew silent. There was sudden clattering as weapons and shields fell to the ground, followed by the soldiers themselves.
Garble tore his axe from the corpse and turned back to the group. They all sat on the grass and breathed heavily. Garble followed their example and fell to the ground, breathing heavily.
“Bout time we killed that damned beast,” a pony said, drinking from a water skin. “Couldn’t you just raze the damn thing when we first saw it? Could have saved us time, you spiny bastard.”
“Oh, quiet your trap. If he did that then the fire could have harmed the fields and cascaded into the wilds. Not to mention he could have roasted our sorry hides. Could you imagine how those deer would react if he set the forest ablaze? Besides, he’s not the reason that beast got away so many times.” A griffon said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “It’s that damn deer kingdom. Those cultists think that if we attempt to hunt on their land, it’s an act of war! Bunch of religious fools, as if they’re even using those woods. A warg comes, murders a woman and child, and before we could stop it from slaughtering anymore livestock, it managed to slip away into the wilds! I say damn the whole kingdom!”
There came numerous murmurs of agreement, and a near chorus of curses and insults, all directed towards Thicket. Many cursed the kingdom, some cursed Gaia Everfree’s name, Thicket’s patron Old God, and the name of the King, the noble Aspen, his forefathers and his descendants. Hardly anyone in Dawn Break liked Thicket, mostly for laws that stifled them greatly. They were forbidden from hunting in the woods for any reason, meaning that chasing after a wild beast like a warg was impossible once it escaped into the wilds. As far as any of them were concerned, it was not the warg that murdered that poor woman and young child, it was Thicket.
Garble, while he did enjoy the occasional mockery and scorn of Thicket, was much too tired to say anything. He simply rested on a patch of grass and began to drink and eat what little food he could spare. All he wanted now was to strip himself of his armor and relax. The hunt had been much too long for him, and he longed to return home to Daybreak Village. There, his little sister Smolder lived. She was the last surviving member of his family aside from him, and to say the two were close was an understatement. If he was excited for anything, it was being allowed to share a meal with her again, be it at home or at a tavern. Though he had to agree with his cohorts, Thicket could burn for all he cared. In fact, the world may be better off for it.
Soon, after the men had rested and filled their stomachs, and one of the soldiers skinned the warg, they rejoined with the other group, who were led by an old gargoyle. He was almost one-hundred and seventy, scarred across his body, and wore an eye-patch that covered his right eye. It had been stolen from him long ago when he encountered a manticore while on patrol. Despite his injury, he had risen through the ranks and had become the most trusted knight of Dawn Break’s Lord. Upon his back was a great steel bow, and upon his belt a long dagger.
“Captain Silver,” Garble said, tilting his head down as a sign of respect.
“Garble, I take it that the warg has been dealt with?” Silver asked. Immediately, the warg’s bloodied hide was unraveled before the captain, who smiled. “Good, good, and who gets the hide?”
“We drew lots for it, Captain,” Garble explained. “Gridler got lucky this time around.” The griffon, who was rolling up the hide, smiled and fell in line with his prize.
“I see. Very well, if there is no other business left to take care of, then let us move out. Most of us are not needed. Three of us will stay behind, make sure that no more wargs come to slay and slaughter the livestock nor that they murder any farmers.” The three chosen were two griffons, and a unicorn. They took refuge in the old guard house while the rest of the group moved on towards Dawn Break Castle.
The group sent a letter ahead of them to tell their lord of their success and imminent return. While most of the soldiers, including Captain Silver, would go to Dawn Break Castle to rest their bodies, Garble and two other men had the blessing of their lord to return to Day Break Village and see their families for a day or two.
“I envy you, Garble,” Captain Silver said, coming up next to him. “Part of me wishes that I could return to the village, but alas, I must give a full report to the lord.”
“I can’t wait to just sleep for a day,” He responded. “Smolder’s probably gotten a little lonely to. I know I miss her.”
“As do I. Such a sweet girl, but fierce as her brother is. Do send her my regards, Garble, and see if the two of you can’t make a nice steak when I return home in a few days.”
Garble chuckled a bit and smiled. “I’ll make sure she knows.” A steak would be good. Smolder would especially love to have a cut. This was not an unreasonable request, as Smolder was Silver’s ward, as Garble had once been. Garble had long since turned 21, the age that boys often became men. However, he still was under old Silver’s care, if nothing more than to keep an eye on his sister until she could be given to another. Smolder was confident for a young girl, and Garble was often proud of the young woman she was becoming, though he was a bit overprotective at times.
The two dragons stayed in Silver’s home, which was spacious enough for the three of them, as Silver was often at Dawn Break Castle. Though Garble now had more legal control over Smolder, being her elder brother, both dragons often respected Silver’s wishes.
The journey lasted a full day, but soon, after parting with Captain Silver and his troupe, Garble came to Day Break Village. He wasted no time going towards Smolder’s lodging. Thanks to his reputation, and his good standing with the mayor of the village, he was able to make sure Smolder had somewhere comfortable to stay while he was away. He knocked on the door twice and on the other side stood a shocked pony. She was a regal alicorn, with hair the color of spring, a mixture of greens, blues, and light pinks, braided with care. She was a pure white, though not as tall as some would have expected. Her name was Celestia. Many men and women, even most of the guards feared her for some reason or another, but children loved her for the treats she often shared and stories and songs she would recite.
“Garble? What are you doing here?” She asked, looking at him curiously.
“I’m here to get Smolder, why?”
“But you sent the squire to pick her up, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t send a squire,” Garble said. “I told Smolder that I was going to pick her up.” Fear and anger gripped is heart as a scowl formed across his face. “Who was the squire?”
Celestia thought for a moment. “Gallus, I think his name was. Smolder seemed so happy to see him to. He said you asked him to take her home since you were tired from your hunt.”
“Oh, that little bastard!” Garble cried, running away from the house. Garble had been away from his home for almost two weeks chasing after a warg, and despite facing down the beast, it was nothing compared to the knowledge that Smolder was alone with Gallus Featherstroke.
He didn’t know exactly what it was that could happen to her. She was an Ironscale after all, and he had given her, and trained her to use, a dagger to defend herself. Not to mention that Nudonia was a peaceful nation, especially the Dawn Break territory, and no boy that had even a fraction of honor would do anything to a girl without her consent. But there were always some dark thoughts in the back of his head that there was some shadow lurking, waiting for the right time to take his sister. And who could blame him? Dragon slayers, vile and sadistic, had slain his parents when he was but a ten-year-old child and his sister was two. She was all that he had now, and he would rather be damned then lose her or have something horrid happen to her.
Worse, it was Gallus who came and spirited her away. Gallus, a detestable griffon in Garble’s opinion, was a bit sarcastic and quick witted. Under any other circumstance, he and Garble might have been friends. However, at least in Garble’s opinion, the boy couldn’t be trusted in the slightest, especially around Smolder. (As far as Garble was concerned, no boy under the age of thirty could be trusted with Smolder, but that was beside the point.) His sister used too many honied words to describe the boy, but Garble knew his true nature: manipulative, conniving, and perhaps even lustful.
As he approached his home, Garble heard a small giggle towards the back. Unmistakably Smolder’s. Yet, it was so high pitched and coy, that he could very nearly hear the blush that his sister likely had staining her cheeks. He quickened his pace and his axe began to clank against his shield, sending echoes across the small estate. He heard a soft scuffle, and by the time he made it to the back of their home, he could only find Smolder, sitting under a tree, reading a book. She wore a very light blue dress, something he’d bought her for her birthday last year, and a golden. necklace with a small fire ruby embedded in the center. It had once belonged to their mother. Not that she ever wore it in her last few years, as it was a gift to her from their father when the two were young.
He snorted, sending out a small cloud of smoke into the air. “Smolder, what are you doing here?” He asked. “You’re supposed to be with Celestia!”
Smolder looked up from her book and her face lit up. “Garble!” She cried, not caring for the question nor the scolding. Jumping to her feet, she rushed and embraced her brother. The hug was genuine, and Garble, despite his worry and anger, didn’t hesitate to return it.
“I missed you to, Smolder,” he said with a smile, before his face became a shade darker. “Why did you leave with Gallus?”
“That? That was just Gallus being Gallus. He thought he could pull something, so I sent him packing. I’ve just been enjoying the day since then. It’s so nice out I thought I might read a book.”
“I heard high pitched giggling, your giggling.”
“Me? I got to a funny part in my book. Come on, Gar-Gar, what do you take me for?”
“A young girl being taken advantage of by a silver-tongued snake. A snake who you likely hid.”
“That is very accusatory,” Smolder said. “I was just reading a book! It’s not something you or a priest would be proud of- hey that’s mine!” Smolder shouted as Garble pushed past her and picked up the book.
“Smolder, I don’t read often, but I thought books at least need words in them!” Garble said, showing his sister that the book was blank. What he was holding was a new diary she had received from Gallus not an hour earlier, but she was not about to let him know that.
“Garble, you just got home. Are you really going to be interrogating me after two weeks of not seeing each other? Can’t we do something? Go to a tavern, or have some tea and treats? I know you couldn’t have been writing poetry while you were gone. Why not read me something?” Smolder looked up at him with pleading eyes. “We can talk about this later.”
Garble let out a sigh. Gallus was either hiding, or had fled and was very close by, and she knew that it was only a matter of time until he found him. Yet Garble would die if it would make Smolder happy. If leaving it be would give her some relief, and she not mention his name and Gallus stayed hidden, he would do it. “You’re lucky I haven’t seen you in two weeks. Just tell me he’s gone. Not hiding, not lurking, loitering, prowling, or skulking. Gone.”
“I promise you, he’s long gone,” Smolder said.
“Okay, then let’s get some lunch.”
Garble playfully nudged his sister forward, earning him an excited laugh. As Smolder walked towards the house, an apple fell from the tree behind them, before there came a slight rustle, followed by a soft gasp and curse. Garble let out a sigh as his sister froze mid step.
“Gar-Gar-” Smolder began.
“Do not. Gar-Gar. Me,” he demanded. Walking to the tree, Garble smashed the trunk with his axe’s hammerhead, causing it to quake. Smolder cursed silently as she heard a few apples, leaves, and a blue griffon fall out. Garble was quick and caught the griffon by his neck. “Featherstroke, nice to see you. How’s your grandpa and cousins?”
“Ironscale,” Gallus choked, barely able to speak. He gripped Garble’s wrist and tried to dig his talons in to free himself, but it was futile, Garble’s hide was too thick, and his grip was too strong. “Good, they’re all good. Grandpa Gruff is still a drunk, so that’s fun. Gabby is still overworked and Gilda’s still a total bitch, but you don’t choose your family, they choose you when you’re an infant and you can’t say no.”
“I don’t actually care, Featherstroke. What are you doing on my property, in my tree?”
“This isn’t your proper-”
“Answer the question. The way I see it, either you were trespassing and sleeping on Captain Silver’s land, you were spying on Smolder while she read a blank book, or you were trying something with her while you thought I was away.”
“You’re framing this in a way that always makes it seem like I’m the badgu-ah!” Gallus gasped as Garble’s grip tightened.
“Answer the damn question.” He was about ready to spew fire upon the griffon, and crush his windpipe, when Smolder cleared her throat loudly. Garble turned and stared at his sister, who tapped her foot on the grass as she glared daggers at him.
“Garble,” She growled, “let him go, now.”
Grumbling, Garble obeyed. Gallus fell to the ground and began to cough and breathe deeply, only to have Garble grab his arm and yank him to his feet. “I’ll see you at training tomorrow,” Garble sneered.
Gallus let out a soft groan as he tore himself from Garble and flew off into town.
“Did you need to do that?” Smolder groaned. “I’m not some misty-eyed maid from the castle, I know when to stop him from trying stuff!”
“Yeah, I did! You’re a bit too young to be courting, especially when it’s someone like him!” Garble said. “He’s a soft shrimp! I can name ten guys in the guard that are made of tougher stuff!”
“First of all, I’m nearly sixteen. Most girls start at around my age. Secondly, when you suggest someone, you want me to court guys twice my age who I have no interest in!” Smolder groaned. “Can we at least get some food before we argue about this?
“Fine, but don’t think we aren’t discussing the crap you pulled today! Leaving with Gallus, do you know how worried I was?”
“I’m sorry for worrying you, but all we did was talk, and he flirted with me a little, nothing life threatening. Besides I have a dagger, so if he tried anything, I’d just use that on him.”
That one statement brought a half smile to his face. “Come on, I really could use something to eat after that,” Garble said, unable to argue with Smolder’s logic. He wasn't about to let the court though, that was still a no. He started towards the house, followed by his sister, who paused and looked back at the fading blue spec in the distance.
Letting out a soft, disappointed sigh, Smolder caught up with her brother and kept to his side, a bit bitter that her time with Gallus had come to an early end, but happy that her brother was home at last. If only Garble could learn to accept her and Gallus, then the two of them could court and never have to worry about Garble stumbling upon them. Despite that wish, and her lingering anger, one thing remained true: She couldn’t be happier to see her brother.