//------------------------------// // 30 - Prince Bhegan // Story: Sunny Starscout and The Mystery of Magic // by OneLonelyPickle //------------------------------// A cold wind, the fiercest in many decades, swept across the frozen reaches of the Peaks of Sacanas. The shout of winter blew against the craggy, snowy lumps of land that made up the mountainous region. The ghostly drone of the gale warned all travelers without a thick fur coat (if they dared): this is not a safe place to be. The sky was saturated with a grey darkness like that within the height of a snowstorm. Bhegan, the so-called Yeti Prince, stepped over another mound of snow to inspect the warriors before him, all of them yetis of various sizes positioned in the snow-kissed, icy clearing. Some were tall and lanky, like him, and others were short, stout, and fat. Some were even small like pets, but just as ferocious as their bigger breathren. Others looked more like monsters, with great big fangs and giant sharp-fingernailed mitts. Most carried a spear that matched his size – they had solid oak handles and diamond-shaped rock tips. But they all shared the same trait: a coat of white fur revealing a leathery brownish-black face. Beside Bhegan stood a gigantic hulk of muscle with his arms crossed. He looked down with beady little eyes at his superior. Bhegan looked up at him and nodded. The giant yeti took in air before roaring so loud a nearby peak began to avalanche. Once the clearing was silent, only the wind and the distant crashing of snow could be heard. All the other yetis looked at the giant yeti, and then at Bhegan. “Thank you, Ajax,” Bhegan said to his friend, and Ajax nodded. “Noble yetis of the land of Sacanas,” Bhegan addressed the others, raising his free hand to the air, his voice clear and powerful, but giving away his youth. The end of his white flowing coat, made up of the down of the great winter lark, flopped and blew with the wind. “I thank you for coming to this summit.” “Righ’,” a yeti with one eye and a scarred-up hole next to it responded. “We’re ‘ere. Now what?” He cocked his monstrous head and narrowed his eyes, shifting away from the big snow-topped rock he was leaning against. Bhegan stood still and stared the yeti down. Before he could reply, his detractor pressed forward. “Say, you look pr’tty scrawny for a yeti what calls himself a prince. An’ you talk too fancy like for a prince of yetis. I don’t like ye.” The one-eyed yeti stood to his tallest height, revealing no less than ten solid feet of hard muscle hidden just underneath white fur, waving with the form of the cold air. His mouth fangs curled up to just underneath his piercing blue eyes. Bhegan was nearly the opposite: tall, thin, and clothed in his white down coat. A necklace of bones and precious stones sat on his neck, and on top of his flat top white hair sat a black crown of ancient rock. The one-eyed yeti got on all fours and kicked a foot back, preparing to charge. “This was a waste of time! Let’s make this here meeting short and get back to the hunt!” He cried out loud enough for the mountain peaks to hear his echo and he pounded forward on all fours, destroying the snow and rock underneath him like it was nothing. Ajax moved to defend his superior, but Bhegan held up his other hand. His other hand held a staff that looked like a purple-brown root. Bhegan pointed it at the charging one-eyed yeti and the long gem at its end glowed bright and yellow. A zap of yellow energy from the staff hit the giant yeti and threw him backwards as if he weighed nothing, knocking up a cloud of snow in all directions as he travelled out of sight over the uneven terrain of the Peaks, his bellows eventually dissipating into faint echoes of despair. The other yetis flinched, jumped back, whispered fearfully, or hollered like scared animals. Bhegan slammed the end of the staff down on a rock near him, and it lit up a bright yellow, drawing every set of eyes in the clearing. “I had no desire to do that. Snowfist One-Eye forced my hand.” Bhegan walked forward and looked each of the yetis in the face, craning his neck down to see the smaller ones that looked like rabid hedgehogs mixed with winter hares. When he turned his coat flapped in the wind separately, giving him a rather regal look for a yeti as his attire blew all around him. His teal eyes scanned the number gathered around him. One in the crowd, not quite as big as One-Eye, stepped forward. He wore a belt made of sinew and bone. “Oi, that was some dark sorcery there! And ye speak of Sacanas—we no longer follow ‘im! We haven’t in generations! Why shouldn’t we rip ye limb from limb? That funny sorcery can’t stop us all!” Another yeti, a smaller one, squeaked up. “Yeh! We needs ta get back to tha hunt, the snowzelles and mountain goats will be gone soon!” More of the yetis screamed in agreement. Bhegan looked at each of them in turn. “Hear my words, then choose your actions. You have already seen what I can do with the Staff of Sacanas, yet you doubt my power?” He had them at his word, but for how long Bhegan couldn’t know for sure. He pushed on with his speech. “This is the day where you decide what you want your tribes, your yetis, to do. You can choose to continue to live in the places you have been forced into…” He motioned back toward the Peaks with two outstretched arms. Then he turned back another direction and held out his staff. The blowing wind started to dissipate. “… or you can choose a new path!” When the wind cleared enough, the yetis all shifted or moved to get a better look. Their clearing overlooked a vast valley, and all the way in the distance they could see trees down below the treeline of the Frozen North. Beyond even that they saw a distant city that looked tiny from where it was. “Long ago our brethren were forced into hiding in these mountains by the ponies. It is said that at the height of our power the yetis suffered a great defeat and humiliation, thanks to pony creatures! And with their magic and their numbers they were able to chase us here!” The yetis grumbled angrily and shouted. “Me hate ponies!” “Crush ‘im, eat ‘im!” “Yeh!” A needle-like yeti, taller than even Ajax but with barely any girth, stumbled into the clearing. He sneezed then spoke in an odd combination of high-pitched and gravelly. “B-b-but the ponies, small as theys be, has the magics. A-a-and they have so many. Thousands of warriors! The old sage of me village said that long ago, even with the power of Sacanas, the strongest yeti lost against the ponies!” He tried to reason with the crowd as Bhegan did. “If wes fight them again, wes will lose the last of what wes have!” The yetis began to murmur and grumble. Bhegan pointed his staff at this newcomer. “That was before! My tribe has chased out the trolls that moved into our ancient territory at the foot of one of the peaks, and we have launched raids into their lands. We can continue that momentum all the way into the pony lands and beyond!” Bhegan continued his speech with great flourish of his becloaked arms. “We cannot survive with just the hunt anymore! You all know that; our numbers are falling, not growing!” Bhegan gestured back behind a snowy mound and a small yeti that looked like a spooky little doll emerged. She had a spiky pink and purple head of hair, with one “spike” drooped down next to her eyes, which were surrounded with a course, smudgy makeup of magenta pasta. Her nose was a little beady snout, and her remaining teeth were long and yellow. Her walk was a decrepit waddle, helped by a stump of a cane. “This is the old soothsayer from my tribe. She has seen visions of the pony lands – scattered, weak, without their magic!” Bhegan made a fist with his free hand and raised it. “Now is the time for us to strike!” The yetis gruffly murmured amng one another. The tall, lanky one stepped back uneasily. Bhegan moved about the clearing as if he had been born to lead. “This is what they deserve: injustice will be met with justice! We will expand the reaches of our new yeti nation to the southern lands, where new breeds of our kind can live and prosper!” The old soothesayer waddled up to Bhegan’s foot. She leapt up and, with her gnarly claw, gripped tight to his shoulder. She whispered with a smile into his ear. “Uhh…” Bhegan cleared his throat somewhat nervously and out of character. “Also we can hit ‘a lot of things and eat lots of meat, too’”. The yetis roared and cheered, pounding on the snow and rock below them. Their combined echo shook the Peaks and joined with the scary howl of the wind to become a war cry too terrifying for even the hardiest of pony stallions to endure. Bhegan looked down to the old soothsayer, his brow unsure. The soothsayer’s old yeti face contorted into what was probably evil joy, though to Bhegan it just looked sinister. “This is your destiny, Bhegan! Heehee, remember my prophecy! You’re the one to carry on the legacy of Sacanas!” Bhegan looked at the tip of his staff, faintly glowing yellow. He squinted. “Yes… as you said, this boon was given to us not by those hooded ponies… but by destiny itself. They were surely messengers of Sacanas himself.” He looked down. “You would not lead me astray?” The old soothsayer cackled. “Listen to your warriors! They are ready to help you achieve your destiny! Who else but Sacanas could provide this to you, the last of the line of princes?” Bhegan closed his eyes and listened to the wind. The old priests said that if you did so, you could hear the voices of your ancestors calling out to you. Bhegan heard nothing but the wind. He opened his eyes and pulled his brow down in determination. “Very well…” He stepped forward, raising half his body higher by stepping onto a rock. “YETIS!” He roared. “Return to your villages and caves! Gather your provisions and your warriors! We march south one final time at tomorrow’s light!” They all cried back to him, some slamming the ground, some beating their chests, and the smaller ones jumped into the air swiping at nothing, raring to go. Bhegan lifted his staff toward the clouds and a beam of yellow zapped the sky. It opened up to reveal a black circular cloud. Out of the cloud a rain of lightning bolts slammed into the peaks in the distance, lighting up where they hit as well as turning the sky into a constant array of yellow flashes. The yetis were awestruck. “BHEGAN! BHEGAN! BHEGAN!” they cheered. Bhegan looked to the old soothsayer, who was urging him on with a nod and a smile. Bhegan hazarded his own little grin and looked to the pony city far away. As all the yetis made to leave, Bhegan singled one out. The tall one from before. “You! I need your help.” “Y-yes? M-me?” The impossibly thin, sniffling yeti lumbered over. Bhegan nodded. In a quiet voice he instructed his fellow yeti. “I have heard you are rather quiet and sneaky, for a yeti.” The tall yeti scratched his neck. “S-sorry I couldn’t hear ye…” Bhegan snorted softly. He motioned the yeti to lean down, and he did. “I was saying, if you are as sneaky as they say, then I have a task I will entrust solely to you.” Sunny and her friends were a few minutes into a thick forest, a part of the wilderness between Tall Tale and Vanhoover. Once they had escaped the city of rumors, Regan guided Hitch onto a trail that led to their beaten path, as it were. Hitch was all grumbles. “How am I supposed to get a wagon through this?” he asked, gesturing in front of them. Though a hoof path was clearly etched into the ground, weaving forward through the vines, roots, bushes and trees, it was so uneven and covered with snares that Hitch had had trouble just getting a half-mile in. Regan shrugged. “Ack, surely tha descendant of Rockhoof will figure a way! He and his sons built Rockhoof’s River—ye can’t bring a lil’ wagon through tha woods, lad?” Hitch looked away and down. “So it was Rockhoof and his sons…” he looked back at Regan and frowned. “That’s easy for you to say! And I get it, be careful what you wish for, that’s my lesson, right?” Sunny tapped on the wagon. “Come on Hitch, you got this!” Izzy cheerfully cried and raised a hoof to the air. “Woowhoo Hitchy! You da stallion!” Regan cleared his throat and made a high-pitched noise and opened his mouth. Hitch pointed a hoof at him. “NO! Not that creepy voice again! Remember what I said.” Regan’s mouth remained open for a second. Then he closed it and cleared his throat against. “A-alrigh’ t-then, fine…” The girls giggled. Sunny leaned down and smirked. “Hey, Hitch, it’s fine, I’ll get out and help you push. It’ll be a great story for the mares.” Sunny brought her hoof in front of her and moved it with each word she said. “Hitch, mare’s stallion. Needs mare to help him.” Hitch protested. “N-No I don’t! I can do it, I can! Just… cut me some slack, okay?” Hitch pressed on. The passengers might have escaped the physical labor but could not escape the rumblings and thuds. Every so often somepony did have to get out to help push the wagon over a root or something similar. Though Hitch was strong, the wagon was not invulnerable, and groaned under the stress of Hitch trying to muscle it through something it was caught on. Sunny raised her hoof at one point. “Hey, don’t we have a bunch of potions now? Let’s just drink some potions so we’re really strong and fast and we can run all the way to Vanhoover!” Hitch responded with a grunt as he squeezed the wagon between two trees. “Absol…UTEly not. Potions are… SUPposed to… be USED only in… emergencies…” He caught his breath once the wagon scrapped through. “All potions have minor side effects and long-term side effects. Even the basic ones. Maybe not ‘your face falls off’ kind of side effects, but still. They’re not good for you.” Sunny continued. “But we’re in a hurry! We don’t know when the yetis could attack again! Robert’s family could be in trouble, and what about any of the ponies that live up there? And all the other creatures?” Regan sighed in despair. “Aye it’s a real shame… and they used to get along so well… yetis and trolls, that is.” Izzy looked at Regan. “You know about the yetis and the trolls, Regan?” Regan nodded. “There’s some history about how Fluttershy, a renowned animal expert, traveled to tha northern lands to bring tha trolls and yetis together. She was able to get them to put aside their differences and share tha land!” The girls looked at eachother and smiled. Izzy cheered. “Yay!” Regan tapped Hitch’s flank. “If yer tha kind of letch I think ye are, I’m sure ye saw her portrait in tha library.” Hitch looked back, wide-eyed. “THAT was Fluttershy?” Hitch made a clicking noise. “Hay and oats, Regan, that was one fine mare. Even for an older one!” “Ack, we old ponies have our charms, ye?!” Regan smoothed the sash on his chest down. Hitch leapt over a root on the ground and the wagon bounced over it. “There have been problems recently with tha yetis, thanks to some prince of tha yetis or some such. One of tha Knights of tha Realm, Sir Seamus, has always been a big fan of tha North. He went up there to try and smooth things out with them. I don’t know what it is, but he—” Hitch stopped. “WAIT!” he turned around as if he discovered a great secret. “That’s it! You sound JUST like Sir Seamus! And that sash thing!” Everypony looked at Regan, who smiled like a guilty pony. Hitch rubbed his chin and looked at Regan’s flank. “But you don’t have the same Cutie Mark. Are you from the same place, where they all talk funny, is that it?” Regan cleared his throat and rubbed at his flank. “Well, no that ain’t it at all lad…” After some rubbing a Cutie Mark slowly came to appear on Regan’s flank. It was an image of a featureless pony head talking with a smile. Regan bowed. “Regan Kiltenstern, at yer service my dear ponies.” Hitch gasped. “Then you’ve got to be his father!” Regan glared and shouted. “ACK I’m not that old ye darn potato! We’re brothers, darn it!” Izzy ‘ooo’d’ and leaned into Sunny. “I don’t really know who that is but it must be really intriguing and mysterious, right?” Sunny looked at her and nodded. She questioned Regan. “Why did you hide your Cutie Mark?” Regan scoffed. “Wha, and let everypony in Tall Tale know who I was? I don’t think so lass!” Hitch unsecured himself from the wagon and accused Regan. He glanced at Sunny. “This guy has been the brother of one of the Knights all along! Sunny, we need to ditch him pronto!” Sunny looked from Hitch to Regan to Izzy. Neither pony had settled on just one emotion, except Hitch who was resolutely against Regan. “O-Oi, now let me explain myself—” Sunny glared at Hitch. “If he was trying to trick us, why would he tell us his brother is a Knight? Why would he help us escape Tall Tale?” Izzy nodded. “I agree with Sunny.” Hitch still stared down Regan, but he whinnied and let the older pony continue. “Fine. Talk.” Regan spoke after a long sigh. “I appreciate the opportunity, lad.” He looked to Sunny and they exchanged a light smile. “I know yer not big on history or long stories so I’ll just cut to it: my brother is indeed a Knight, but we don’t see eye to eye anymore because of that! I don’t support what he does at all!” Regan teared. “Ack, but he’s me little brother, ye? I can’t leave him up there! He went up to talk to the yetis not long ago, and never made it back. It can’t be nothin’ but trouble—I know it!” Hitch raised an eyebrow. “So you’re using us to save your Knight brother, is that it?” Sunny interjected. “Hitch stop it! Did you forget!?” “Forget what?” “You’re looking for your own lost brother, aren’t you?” Hitch opened his mouth, then exhaled. His ears and expression drooped. Sunny looked to Regan. “Still, I wish you had told us.” She scrutinized Regan with her narrowed gaze. “Is there anything else that you’re hiding.” She pointed at him. “I’ll know if you’re lying!” Regan put his hoof to his chest, his eyes wide and his bushy red brows high. “Honest! Hoof to heart, lass! I’ll even do a Pinkie Promise!” Everypony looked at one another. Izzy was the most intrigued. “What’s a ‘Pinkie Promise’?” Regan shrugged. “Ehh… I don’t really know.” There was a collective sigh of disappointment. “It’s mentioned in an old book. It’s supposed to be used only when you really, really mean something!” He put his hoof to his chest and smiled. “Cross my heart…” Regan made a flying motion with his hooves, “hoping to fly…” Then he reached for something in the wagon. He looked around. “Ack well I don’t have a cupcake… but I’d stick one in my eye if I could!” Hitch made a worried, confused face to Sunny and shook his head. Sunny looked torn. “Umm… okay. I believe you… I think.” Izzy clapped. “Yay! That was funny! Have you read about other weird old rituals?” Regan sat on his rump, crossed his hooves, and nodded once. “As a matter of fact, Ms. Moonbow, yes! Let me tell you about ummm… hmmm…” He tapped a hoof on his scraggly red beard. He decided on an idea with a lift of his hoof. “Ahh yes!” He turned to Izzy, giving her his complete attention. He drew her in with a bright expression and an outstretch of his hooves. “This one’s called the cute-ceañera!” Izzy lit up and watched with completely enthrallment. Sunny rolled her eyes and shared a little smile with Hitch, who began to trudge forward again with a sigh of resolve. “At least I get to go back to the city for a little bit and see some mares.”