//------------------------------// // The Great Change // Story: Agate's Vigil // by Wingnut //------------------------------// ❅ ❆ ❅ Time passed. The winter seemed longer than usual, given that various ponies kept bringing up Agate's decision to wait for the Empire to return, which kept bringing the issue of time back to the forefront of her mind. Once the chatter died down a bit, though, things gradually returned back to normal. It was slow at first. As everyone knew, time has the annoying habit of moving much slower than usual when you're actually waiting for it to pass. Once Agate finally forced herself to stop counting the days and thinking about just how many there were still left to go, she managed to more or less go back to her usual life with the snowpony tribes. No more world-shattering events happened, and the population mostly acclimated to the strange mark on the Moon. Having moved past their "anticipating hard times" mode, they once again turned towards the usual things they did - fishing, foraging, and expanding their reach across the vast expanses of the north. Some of the recent events made them reconsider the way they did that, though. Once again, Agate unintentionally became a pivotal character in a shift in how the snowponies viewed the world. Her discovery of highly valuable crystal deposits on the Twisting Spires island, a location previously considered barren and near useless except as a proving ground, inspired some of the explorers to turn back inward, instead of exploring new territories. With a fresh perspective and many hundreds of year's worth of accumulated experience that their ancestors didn't have, the three tribes began scouting their already established territories for other valuable resource caches that the previous generations might have overlooked. A more detailed examination turned up a number of potentially good spots to build more villages as well, the next waves of settlers claiming places closer to home instead of going to the fringes of the northern or western tribes, as was customary for quite some time. Even the southern tribe, which, paradoxically, had only one permanent settlement despite being the oldest of the three tribes, began to look for suitable spots to build more villages in. There were multiple reasons for the decision, though the most obvious one was the simple fact Snowpitt was getting a bit crowded. Sure, the village largely emptied out on summers when the nomads moved out, but during the Gathering, living arrangements were starting to get uncomfortably tight, even for ponies that were used to sleeping in big fluffy piles to save warmth. The elders of the tribe decided to stick with what they knew, and picked a spot that was fairly similar to the location Snowpitt was built in. Some distance to the east, along the river running from the west towards the sea, there was a long stretch of land between the foothills and the plains with a slight downslope, the rain likely having eroded the earth over the eons. It looked like a good natural windbreak, which was always a desirable quality when building a home in the northern regions. A sizeable patch of forest covered the foothills on the other shore, promising plenty of resources and building materials for the future settlement. All in all, that covered most of the basic needs like fuel and water, and the snowponies were plenty capable of producing the rest themselves. Even though the farmer families warned them that it would take years, if not decades, of composting and fertilizing to turn the rather poor tundra soil into something they could grow their impressive harvests in, the pioneers were undaunted - after all, it was merely a question of when, not if, they would achieve their goal. Moving the rocky tundra soil was not easy in the slightest, but the hardy inhabitants of the plains were no strangers to hard work. A great many stones were dug out and stacked up, foundations and windbreaks were built, fields marked out and prepared, with lots of other little tasks that needed to be done to establish a proper settlement. A lot of discussion and planning went into it as well, with hunters, elders, and other clever ponies making various suggestions on how to position the houses to create the best defensive points, security being an ever-important concern even in the relatively safe lands of the southern tribe. However, not every pony thought it was a good idea. A number of said discussions also included some cranky elders complaining that it was a serious break from tradition, and that their ancestors had their reasons for doing things the way they did. The plains were very sparse in food, they said, which was precisely why the nomads had to be constantly on the move, instead of settling down permanently in one spot, which would lead to starvation long before they could establish their farms. It didn't take long for logically inclined ponies to start poking holes into those arguments, which led to some raised voices and complaints about disrespecting their elders, even though no small amount of ponies arguing for building more settlements were elders themselves. Eventually, Frostbeard stepped in, swiftly putting an end to the nonsense. "Traditions are merely things we have been doing for many generations, sometimes without even knowing why we're doing it. It is beyond obvious that having permanent, secure settlements is superior to a nomadic life, otherwise those very ancestors would have kept wandering, never returning to Snowpitt for the winter. So why do you think that they began doing it in the first place? A few dozens of families feed half the village with what they grow in their fields, so why didn't they all turn to growing vegetables instead of grazing the plains? Immediacy is the clear answer. Growing takes time, which is not a luxury you can afford when you're starving, which more than likely forced groups of ponies to wander off, and keep wandering. And somehow, we turned starvation into a tradition, of all things. Well, those of you who are complaining seem to have forgotten that adaptation to the ever-changing conditions of the north is our greatest tradition. Each of the three tribes learned and adapted to their surroundings accordingly, and that included stopping the behaviors that were not only no longer useful to them, but sometimes, outright detrimental," The chieftain spoke firmly. Though the complainers clearly weren't happy, no one could really argue with the chieftain's wisdom. Not that the settlement's construction would have stopped because of a few neighsayers, of course, but it was always better to thoroughly air those kinds of issues out instead of just ignoring them and letting them sit and fester. It took more than a year for ponies to actually start moving in - with the short summers, the ideal window of time for construction work was rather short as well - but eventually, the village of Green Bough was born. ❅ ❆ ❅ "So you're thinking of moving to the new village?" Agate inquired. "Yes, I'm quite set on it. My parents don't exactly disapprove, but they're telling me that I'm just a bit young to be striking out on my own just yet. They're not entirely wrong, I suppose, but they don't know everything about the situation," Cindertail replied with a shrug. It was late autumn in Snowpitt, the group of friends having met up in Warm Spring's home. Autumn Ash was listening to the conversation while slowly sipping some tea, likely already having had the discussion with her brother some time before. The two teens spent the summer travelling with the nomads, finally fulfilling their dream to go out and have themselves an adventure. They both loved it, the siblings maturing from the new and intense experiences in various ways. Cindertail, despite still being stuck somewhere between "adult" and "teenager", definitely leaned more towards the adult side of things now. While he certainly wasn't skinny before - farm work involved lots of physical activity, after all - spending months constantly on the move made the young stallion fill out noticeably, trimming any excess fat he might have had and giving a sharper definition to his sizeable frame. His demeanor changed too, the foalish wonder and uncertainty getting replaced with adult-like decisiveness and desire to go his own way. His sister likewise changed and was a bit ahead of him in her transformation, seeing as she was a year older. Though naturally, being a mare, her puberty didn't cause her to bulk up nearly as much as Cindertail did. Agate still caught her stealing glances at her brother now and then, clearly not too happy about the fact her "little" brother now towered above her. "What is the entirety of the situation, if it's not a secret?" Agate asked, which earned a chuckle from Autumn Ash. "My little brother found himself a maaare... Poor little sod, got stolen away by the first shaggy wanderer that he met..." The sing-songed, hiding her sly grin behind her teacup. "You... Be quiet," Cindertail shot back with a frown. However, Agate was pretty sure that if the snowponies didn't have such thick coats, he'd be blushing. "Bet you're just jealous that I found someone. Or you're disappointed that you won't be able to boss me around any more." "You really think so poorly of me, dear brother? Think of all the fun we had over the years," She replied with an exaggerated pout. "Yes," He retorted simply, without an iota of hesitation, Autumn Ash snorting in response. "Anyway, Agate, it's not a secret - well, it's a secret between us, alright? Things are still a bit uncertain for me. I spent a lot of time talking with my marefriend. About us, the future, what we wanted to do, and so on. We both agreed that moving to Green Bough was an amazing opportunity that we shouldn't miss, but we're both still young, and we'd definitely need lots of support in setting up. My family would happily provide the seeds and knowledge, of course, but they're hardly able to leave Snowpitt. Her family are fisherponies and foragers, though, which would be invaluable in feeding us for the first few years, not to mention that they'd be easily able to travel between Snowpitt and Green Bough, if they didn't decide to outright move to the village as well." "What's the uncertainty, then? It sounds like you thought everything through quite well," Agate asked with a raised eyebrow. "Well, it's a bit unusual for such different families to mix. Not unheard of, certainly, but there's always a bit of confusion on both sides for a little while. To the ponies that are masters of surviving in the wilderness, we growers sometimes look like helpless fools, from their point of view. I know how to do lots of things, but I don't even know how to haft a spear, for example." "Yeah, they treat us like a separate tribe, sometimes," Autumn Ash added with a snort and a roll of her eyes. "They're plenty happy to trade with us for food, but if we really get talking, they start acting like we're a bunch of foals. So what if we barely know how to snowwalk? We still produce far more food in a year than they could ever hope for." "Oh, so her side of the family is... Disapproving of you?" Agate looked for a word, rubbing her chin. "More like... Unconvinced, I think. Unimpressed? In their heads, they know that I'm plenty capable of many things they're not. In their hearts, though, I'm guessing they can't get over the fact that I appear as a helpless fop that wouldn't be able to so much as catch a fish for dinner," Cindertail explained with a crooked grin. "You had to learn some of that stuff while you were out with the nomads, though, right?" "Oh, I did," He confirmed with a nod. "And I'm thinking of spending the next summer with them, too. Sharpen up those skills a bit more, show them that both my mare and I are committed to this and that it isn't some momentary flight of fancy. They'll just have to accept it, or risk really ticking off their daughter. And spirits, she's not someone you want to make angry. She's lithe and graceful, but the fierce glint in her eyes..." He trailed off with a wistful, dopey smile on his face. "Yup, hopelessly lost. She really reeled him in like a fish, alright," Autumn Ash snorted, Agate joining in with a few giggles while Cindertail tried to school his expression into something more serious. ❅ ❆ ❅ Seeing as both Agate's journeys to the northern tribe's territories and the nomad's wandering through the plains took time during the warmer seasons, she never really learned much of what the latter involved. Both Autumn Ash and Cindertail thoroughly assured her that she wasn't missing anything, though, and it was only really an "adventure" in the sense that it was a new and interesting experience for them, nothing at all like the kind of stuff Agate got up to in the north. As they explained, they spent most of the time moving, grazing, foraging, and so on, and there was almost no excitement or change in the routine the entire time. There was little to no use in having a guardian spirit accompanying them, especially one with such highly sought-after skills like Agate. While she still was mildly curious about it, Agate took their word for it. Cindertail did end up moving to Green Bough and marrying Swift Hoof, the mare he fell so hard for. Agate was invited to the wedding, which she happily accepted. Weddings were the kinds of events where entire family trees would show up, and having guardian spirits watch over one was considered a great blessing. Even though Agate wasn't even remotely related to anyone there, the ponies were very happy to have her regardless. There were many ceremonies and rituals to bind and bless the couple, protect their new home from malevolent spirits, and so on. Some looked vaguely familiar from the few details about weddings that Agate remembered hearing back in the Empire, though lots of others were different. They didn't exchange jewelry, for one, at least not the kind that Agate was used to. She remembered multiple customers asking about wedding bands when she spent time in her parent's shop, and it was always gold, or even platinum, with all kinds of fancy gems. Though snowponies did wear gold and copper jewelry, they didn't seem to associate it with getting wed. Instead, the families gave the newlyweds all sorts of hoof-made charms and trinkets, some of them glowing faintly with the sheen of magic. Swift Hoof gave Cindertail an elaborate necklace that seemed to have hair from multiple snowponies woven into it, while he gave her one with the amethyst that Agate had made and gifted to him years back. Though she couldn't partake in the traditional feasting, Agate still enjoyed listening to the various songs and watching the unique wedding dances and suchlike. Once it was all over, she wished the new couple well and promised to visit from time to time, Swift Hoof's family clearly being delighted at having such a well known guardian spirit keeping an eye on them. Autumn Ash, meanwhile, decided to remain in Snowpitt. It took her a few more years to find love, but she got married eventually as well. The circle of time kept turning, Agate's various friends and acquaintances starting families, occasionally moving to live in a different place, and, soon enough, having foals of their own. It was a bit hard to keep track of them all given how scattered they were, but Agate still did her best to keep in touch with her friends, which was made much easier by the yearly gathering of the tribes. Some of the foals viewed her as an eccentric aunt of sorts and were happy to see her, while others were a bit spooked by her unusual appearance and behavior, which always made her laugh a little. ❅ ❆ ❅ While new life started, inevitably, the same turning of the circle meant that the old one passed away, which even included the spirits of those already dead. As True Sight predicted, Gnarled Root didn't last much longer, requesting that her bindings be undone a few years later. In a way, it was the reverse of the ceremony they held for Agate when they planted and bound her totem. A large crowd of ponies gathered around Gnarled Root's totem, bowing their heads in a moment of silent respect before going at the earth with shovels and picks. There was not much singing or magic, though the atmosphere wasn't really what one would call sad. Solemn, perhaps, but not sad - some were smiling gently, while others were recounting the many things the old spirit taught them or their kin to the younger members of the audience. It didn't take long to dig up the enchanted tree. With a big push from a pair of hefty stallions, it was tipped over, and was soon resting on the backs of a dozen-strong group of sturdy carriers. The drummer that was leading the procession started a steady beat, the ponies stepping in synchrony with the sound. Gnarled Root herself was standing off to the side, humming some indistinct melody, her eyes closed. She appeared carefree, completely and utterly. No worldly matters concerned her any more, and she was almost floating off the ground already, ready to gallop off into her final journey. The only reaction she showed at all was a soft "Oh" when the totem was uprooted, the runes on the old timber getting dimmer with the disruption of the web of enchantments and their source of magic. Agate and Spear Throw were silently standing beside her, the pair already having said their goodbyes the day prior. As the procession began to leave the clearing, Spear Throw gently nudged the distracted spirit, making her blink and look around in mild confusion before turning to follow her totem. Trotting along, they slowly but steadily made it to the ceremonial grounds, where the lumber for the enchanted bonfire was already stacked up. The totem was carefully worked into the middle of the pile, remaining upright while smaller logs and branches were stacked around it. Burning it wasn't really a requirement for undoing the enchantments, nor did the spirits have to wait until the Calling if they wanted to go, but Gnarled Root's request happened to coincide with the event, and the inert totem pole would have been added to the bonfire anyway, as was the custom. The remaining pair of spirits watched as the ritual began, the shamares throwing their torches onto the pile of lumber. Though it itself could be infused with magic, pure flame was a well-known way to safely undo enchantments of all kinds, whether malevolent or benign. As the flames rose, it didn't take long for the last vestiges of the magic laced on the totem pole to fade away, carried away with the rising smoke. Gnarled Root turned back towards them one last time, her already hazy form barely visible against the backdrop of the darkness of the Long Night and the roaring bonfire right behind her. She opened her mouth slightly as if to speak, but no words came out. Tilting her head, she looked confused, as if she actually forgot how to talk. Trying again, she cleared her throat, her gentle smile back on her face. "Well, I'm really done this time. Over the years, I had many moments where I considered doing this, but there's no going back now. It's been fun, you two. Good luck with your quest, Agate." "What's it like? Staying around this long?" The filly inquired quietly. Tapping the side of her head, Gnarled Root shrugged after a minute's of consideration. "It's hard to put into words, honestly. You keep doing something you love for a long, long time, and you slowly lose your passion for it. But if you feel like you're duty-bound, you keep going anyway. Then one day, you just wake up, and go at it with renewed enthusiasm like it's the first time you're doing it again, until you start losing it once more. Honestly, I don't know what's it going to be like for you. You have entirely different reasons for staying. Me, well, I just woke up one day, and when I thought about teaching more ponies, I just felt... Nothing. There was no connection any more, no spark. Again, though, you have different goals. And as the saying goes, where there's a will, there's a way. If you truly will it, you will meet your family again, Agate... As I might just meet mine. Farewell." Without a moment's of hesitation, she turned around, and trotted right into the fire, her form becoming lost in the blinding light. They weren't able to see her ascent, as the shamares already began weaving their magics and singing the Song, the flames becoming almost unbearably bright for any spirit observing them. Agate and Spear Throw kept watching, though, staying through the entirety of the blinding and deafening summoning ritual, and long past it. Once it was done and the fire was low, they shared a look, giving a silent nod to each other before parting ways. ❅ ❆ ❅ Spear Throw didn't stay around all that long after that, either. As he said, he was only waiting for his wife to pass on, which happened some six years later. His family proudly told various stories about his courage and skill to the listening onlookers as his totem was dug up, and likewise carried off to the ceremonial grounds. He didn't exchange all that many parting words with Agate, even less than they did with the badly distracted Gnarled Root. He gave her a deep, respectful nod, simply saying, " 'Tis a monumental task that you took on yourself, and I don't think you did it because you don't understand the enormity of it. As you clearly intend to walk this path to the end - remember our lessons, and you will prevail against the beast." "Thank you, Spear Throw, for everything. I hope it's a pleasant destination, wherever you are going." With a nod from him and his wife, the pair nuzzled each other one last time and galloped off, their tails still lovingly intertwined. Agate watched them go, only realizing the entire situation a few hours after they were gone. True Sight didn't hang around long, Gnarled Root left years prior, and Spear Throw had just left. No new guardian spirits had joined them during those years, and Agate was now the sole guardian spirit in Snowpitt. It was a bit strange for her, being the only spirit left, the snowponies finding it unusual as well. The ranks of guardian spirits always swelled during hard times, those unfortunate enough to have lost their lives making sure the same fate didn't befall their kin. However, even during good times, there were always some spirits around, which wasn't really the case any more - even with Agate still there and largely considered as one of their own, she was gone on her expeditions a large part of the time. The ponies weren't sure whether to worry about the abnormality of the situation, or to take it as a good sign that times were so great that they didn't need any extra help and that the spirits of their kin could rest easy. The situation wasn't universal, of course - other villages still had guardian spirits watching over them, especially those of the northern tribe. Agate hadn't seen them during the first few journeys, but Nilas had at least half a dozen totems at any given time, tucked in an alcove some distance away from the salty sea spray. Some islands did too, despite the effort of having to transport the tree across the water. It was quite interesting to talk to them, seeing as they didn't really bother going to the Gathering. Agate was curious how they passed the Long Night, to which she received differing replies. Most of them spent their time chatting and patrolling their empty villages, making sure no beasts set up their lairs in the locked-down homes, though a few learned to enter a trance-like sleep and simply slept the winter away until their tribesfolk came back. Though she was intrigued at the concept and tried learning it, Agate really didn't feel like using it any time soon. She still had plenty of things to do, after all. ❅ ❆ ❅ Decades went by. Some things remained the same, while others changed. The landscape shifted a little bit, more villages or outposts being built in the tundra, and more islands being discovered by the northerners. Agate slowly changed as well, her appearance partially shifting into that of an adult. She never really grew all that large, her form becoming an odd mix of youthful and adult features, looking kind of like a petite young mare. The largest differences were her mane and tail, which became longer and wispier, the edges trailing off as they gently fluttered in the ethereal wind. Agate was happy that she didn't look like a foal any more, at least, not that her appearance was any less exotic to the snowponies. Despite her hair growing out, she still looked like a crystal pony, with no coat and a faintly shimmering, ethereal hide. Not to mention, the local ponies were much stockier and bulkier than her, their limbs and bodies far better suited for the northern cold. Thirty years after she first arrived in Snowpitt, the northerners finally discovered the location of a fabled island that their explorers had been whispering about for close to a century, the prior knowledge of it coming from the spirits of those that recklessly ventured out too far and got themselves lost. Not only was it massive, but it was also warm, outright hot in some places, despite being deep, deep in the north. A great many volcanoes dotted the entire area, both underwater and on the island itself, the blazing warmth of the Earth's Blood keeping the northern cold at bay. Some creeks were so hot they were almost boiling, while the ground was too hot to trot on in some spots. After some deliberation, they decided on a simple name - Green Land, reminiscent of the mythical summer lands that their ancestors came from. The warmth was so great that even trees had managed to sprout on the island, vast forests covering large parts of the magnificent place. Needless to say, the northerners were in utter awe at such a location, immediately calling for it to be settled. While the chieftain and the elders agreed, they decided to exercise caution, as they knew the risks of blindly rushing into poorly explored territory. Though the usual array of cold-loving monsters seemed to avoid the place, which made it even more attractive, it was not completely without inhabitants. It only made sense, really - such an oasis would have certainly attracted other life, and it did. As they explored the island, the northerners finally solved a mystery that they were very curious about for a long, long time - they finally found the location where the thunderbirds went to roost. Thunderbirds weren't something even the bravest northerners wanted to tangle with. Although there wasn't a single incident of them ever preying on ponies, they were still spoken of with fearful respect, as pretty much everyone agreed that the only reason they didn't hunt ponies was simply the fact that they were too small. The predatory birds were absolutely massive - according to some hunters that got to observe one carrying off a whale, a single talon of the creature was the size of an adult pony. The scout that was the first to see one on the ground claimed that he witnessed it effortlessly plucking entire trees from the earth, likely carrying them off to build it's nest. It's wingbeats were so powerful, they sounded like thunder, and lightning seemed to follow in it's wake as it sped across the sky. However, no matter how indifferent a creature might be to you, whether predator or prey, its behavior can change drastically if you dare approach its lair, which was exactly what the would-be settlers planned to do. The scouts noticed that the island didn't contain animals much larger than a fox, which made a lot of ponies quite nervous. The adult birds couldn't hunt something that small, but what about the hatchlings? As such, the settlement efforts were very, very carefully planned. The first village was built into the edges of a forest, as far away from the mountains that the birds roosted in as possible. It was hoped that, were the thunderbirds take offense at the ponies settling this close to their nests, the inhabitants would be able to run away and hide in the forest before fleeing the island. A number of shamares came with them, ready to aid with confusing and befuddling the thunderbird's sight or helping camouflage the ponies with their magics, if need be. Fortunately, nothing like that came to pass. The mighty avians would fly by overhead, shaking the air with their wingbeats, but didn't seem to care about the ponies in the slightest. As a few years went by without incident, not even the thunderbird's younglings venturing out on land much, the northerners relaxed a little. More settlers began arriving, wondering at the incredible bounty and warmth of the land, not to mention the size. The scattered northern tribe finally had a place of their own they could all gather in, hoping to build a grand village to rival Snowpitt in size and scale. It was all looking good for the snowponies, though it would come crashing down soon. The good times kept on going, until they didn't. In the end, Earthsong's worries proved to be at least partially correct, though there was no external event like a brutal winter or their fishing stocks suddenly collapsing that caused the troubles. Instead, friction began to appear between the disparate tribes. Although the snowpony lore keepers unanimously agreed that the incident they came to call "The Affront" was the start of it all, Agate didn't entirely agree. She could see that the immensely different lifestyles that the three tribes had were making them drift away from each other, the southern and western ponies sometimes whispering fearfully about the strange and bizarre things the northerner adventurers brought or told them about. The respectful awe that they used to listen with was slowly turning into concern that the northern tribe was venturing too far and too deep into the lands of strange polar beings, some ponies saying that the northerners were turning into some kind of fey spirits themselves, what with their strange magics and mastery over ice and water. Of course, the incident didn't help things, putting it mildly. While the northerners badly wanted to build their settlements on the Green Land isle as fast as possible, they didn't want to rip up too many forests for the lumber, lest they anger the thunderbirds by stealing all of their nest-building materials. They also needed many tools and resources, all of which had to be transported by boats, from many scattered islands by many separate ponies. The disorganization meant that the building efforts were difficult, along with having to tend to other needs, such as food. One shamare, relatively young but already quite skilled, decided to take it upon herself to help and guide her tribe in this time of need, summoning great shoals of salmon right into the fisherponie's nets several times, a single day's catch being enough to feed the entire tribe for weeks. It didn't sound like something terrible at first, but shamares were taught, and taught other ponies about balance for a reason. The event came to be called The Affront because they caught so much fish that the western tribe noticed a serious dip in the quantity of salmon that went to spawn in their rivers that autumn. While it wasn't remotely close to causing a famine or anything of the sort, it was still a point of concern for them. Unlike the sea-bound northerners, they did have lots of food sources other than fish, but the autumn salmon migration was an important event with a near-holy status in the tribe. They didn't know what to make of it at first, only figuring things out during the Gathering. Once they learned of the northerner shamare bewitching great stocks of salmon for her ponies to catch, they were not happy. A meeting was called, and for the first time, Agate got to witness snowponies being truly angry at each other. ❅ ❆ ❅ "This is an outrage. An utter affront to every piece of wisdom the shamares and the elders teach us. You are not fit to be a chieftain if your tribe behaves like this, Jagged Ice," Oak Bark grumbled, hunching slightly on the rug. The westerner's chieftain grew old over the years, though he remained in charge of the tribe. Frostbeard was likewise still nominally leading the southern tribe, though his son Swift Dash, a fully-grown stallion in his own right, was already considered the acting chieftain by the majority of the population. The northerners got a young, fresh, bright-eyed chieftain, though, the tribe preferring the vigor and strength of youth, not that the young stallion lacked experience in holding his own in a debate. "And yet, it was the wisdom of the shamare to do it. You yourself should know well that even the chieftains should not interfere and overrule the shamares, elder. Perhaps you oughtn't question my role as a chieftain while suggesting I do something that a chieftain shouldn't do yourself," He spoke after a pause, calmly reasoning out his argument. Silence fell upon the Great Hall, Oak Bark scowling angrily. Frostbeard and Swift Dash glanced between each other, both stallions sharing tiny shrugs. As a neutral party that wasn't affected by the northerner's actions, they clearly weren't too sure who's side to take. While the act seemed rather wrong, the westerners themselves admitted that it didn't actually threaten their food stores much, and Jagged Ice had a point. The shamares were present as well, of course, and they were a bit more judging towards their peer. The accused northerner seemed unbothered, however, speaking up after a number of ponies looked towards her after the chieftain's exchange. "I did what I felt was needed, to help my tribe. It is not like I plan on doing it all the time. This is a very important time for us, and every single one of us is pitching in, shamares included." ""Not all the time" is a rather vague answer, Thundersnow, and it is highly questionable whether it was right of you to do it in the first place. How long, exactly, do you intend to keep interfering in the natural cycles of the fish?" Earthsong asked quietly. The southerner shamare grew old as well, though she was still sitting straight and firm, the only real sign of age being her partially bleached earthen mane and coat. At her question, Thundersnow pursed her lips before shaking her head. "As long as it takes, elder. As long as my people need it, and the construction of the settlement is unfinished." That was the wrong answer, apparently, as more shamares scowled at her, though both Thundersnow and the rest of the northerner contingent didn't seem bothered by it. Tilting her head, Agate tried to remember whether she ever met the mare before. She learned about lots of places and ponies from her constant northern expeditions, and Thundersnow already built up a sizeable reputation. While she was a bit younger than Agate at thirty-eight, she was already a popular character among the northern storytellers. According to the stories, she was born during a strange weather phenomenon, the same one for which she was named. Normally, thunder and snow didn't mix at all, except for very, very rare occasions. She was born during one, as if she herself was causing the spirits to rage and clash in such a tremendous manner. However, she allegedly remained utterly calm despite the furious storm, only babbling happily and clopping her hooves at the peals of thunder. It seemed like she was playing at first, but her mother noticed that her clops came a little early, right before the thunder actually struck, and the count of clops always matched the exact number of thunder strikes. Once she fell asleep, the storm immediately quieted down as well, making the wide-eyed mother rush off to the shamares to tell of a possible tremendous spiritual strength as soon as she was able to. Those gifted with great skill were highly respected in all three snowpony tribes, most believing them to be some great ancestor spirit of theirs, reborn anew to lead their kin to a better future. As such, she quickly rose through the ranks, becoming the de-facto leader of the tribe's shamares around the time of Green Land's discovery. Despite her youth, even the elders heeded her advice and respected her skill, though ponies in other tribes grumbled that the only reason other shamares weren't performing such flashy displays of power was because they knew how to be disciplined and hold back, instead of needlessly riling up the spirits and wrecking the natural balance of the world. Either way, that was the situation they were in. Agate herself wasn't entirely sure what to think herself, not that it mattered much. She was not part of this conversation, merely an observer. Still digging through her memories, she faintly recalled exchanging a few polite words and niceties with Thundersnow a few years back, but that was the extent of their interactions. The mare acted respectfully towards Agate back then, like all northerners tended to do, and didn't seem overtly arrogant or malevolent, unlike the picture the other ponies seemed to paint of her. "I don't think that's a valid reason," Earthsong spoke after a pause. "And who gets to decide what is valid or not, elder? What terrible crime did I even commit? I will concede, I might have made a mistake when I decided to lure the salmon. I will own up to it, and the blame should fall squarely on me, not the rest of my tribe. There are plenty of other fish in the seas, ones that do not migrate westwards to spawn, ones which I can call on with the same ease. However, this minor slip-up will easily fix itself. There is going to be more food for the newborn salmon now, and the population will easily rebound. Not to mention, it was but one generation that we thinned, and there are plenty more in the waters," Thundersnow rebutted. "Regardless of how easily fixed, the point remains that it was still wrong," Oak Bark grumbled again. "And why is it so important that the settlement be constructed this fast? Why must you rush so much, enough to stir up this conflict amongst the tribes?" Earthsong inquired, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Why? The same reason Snowpitt even exists, elder. So our tribe has a safe harbor to call our own, somewhere to retreat and meet together, to trade and winter, and do the myriad of other things that your tribes are capable of doing, ones which we are denied due to the scattered nature of our people." "That... You just said it yourself! Snowpitt already exists for that very reason! It is a shelter for any tribe should anything happen, and we all gather here to winter, to trade and exchange knowledge, just like you're doing right now! The Gathering is our greatest tradition, and your official goal is to shatter it?!" Oak Bark shouted, losing control of his temper. Thundersnow appeared completely unimpressed, however. "Seriously, chieftain? You say such a thing? My chieftain was right, you are a hypocrite. Do you think we are not aware that a large number of your own tribesponies stopped attending the Gathering for over a decade now?" "That- that's not the same-" "It's exactly the same, chieftain. Snowpitt is spilling far beyond its borders, barely even able to contain the southern tribe, let alone us. I think I heard that some of the ponies in the newly built villages here in the south are remaining in their new homes instead of attending as well. Times have clearly changed, and the northern tribe must change with them if we are to survive. Just like you have Highglade and they have Snowpitt, we need proper wintering grounds, too. Do you have any idea what it's like on an exposed, flat island during winter? The sheer force the freezing sea gales have, the cold that can leave even the most tightly bundled-up pony frostbitten In moments?" "Your survival is not threatened by the construction taking a year or two longer... Snowpitt can still shelter you well enough." "Can it? The journey is not an easy one for the elderly, or the very young. Not to mention the sheer length of it. It might take you a week or less to reach your mountains. It takes us four times as long to cross the tundra and reach the very furthest islands. Just the provisions needed for that amount of time alone..." They kept going back and forth like that for quite a while, neither side seeming to have a decisive argument to end the disagreement in their favor. Despite Thundersnow's concession that she made a mistake and promise not to bewitch any salmon again, the westerners didn't seem mollified at all. At some point, Jagged Ice offered to give the majority of the dried salmon that they still had to the western tribe as an apology, which they snidely refused. Needless to say, that action only served to divide the tribes further. While the shamares of both western and southern tribes were disapproving of Thundersnow, the regular ponies were more ambivalent. The westerners weren't happy, but to the southern ponies, their simultaneous refusal to accept an apology gift and persistent hounding of the northerners appeared like an attempt at a deliberate provocation, something which was highly looked down on in snowpony society. In the end, nothing was gained from the exchange except for the airing of bitter recriminations. When everything was said and done, the leaders of all tribes went their separate ways, while most of the regular tribesponies seemed too out of it to even know what to think, the unpleasant sight of their elder's angry squabbling clearly having shaken them. One by one, the dazed-looking ponies quietly shuffled out of the Great Hall, shooting nervous looks towards the northern sky from time to time. On the face of it, it didn't even look like much to Agate. A heated argument, with some raised voices and shouting now and then, which didn't even happen that many times. It certainly didn't compare to any of the stories of old about the inter-tribal conflicts between pegasi, unicorns and earth ponies. No one was suggesting the northern tribe be barred from the Gathering, or threatened with violence, or that they had to pay some extortionate amount as tribute, or any of the other things common in the retellings of those dark times. However, even such seemingly small conflicts were rather alien to snowponies. With their society and traditions forming around the fact that windigoes were living right next door, and the first settlers having to struggle to survive in the alien landscape for many generations until their descendants adapted to the northern conditions, harmony between the ponies was as vital to their survival as having food to put on their plates. ❅ ❆ ❅ No windigoes showed up to harass the village during the remaining winter months, which put everyone slightly more at ease, save perhaps the chieftains and shamares. Even the regular western tribesponies calmed down a little, once they saw that the northerners didn't actually mean to do them harm, just shrugging helplessly and pointing at the shamare that orchestrated it all. Meanwhile, Thundersnow remained largely unapologetic, firmly maintaining that, at worst, she made a minor error, if that. During other meetings, she remained perfectly composed, despite the numerous accusations of short-sightedness, recklessness, and foolishness thrown her way by Oak Bark and some shamares. None of it rattled her in any way, though, and if it did, she didn't let it show, calmly going about her days. Jagged Ice remained silent most of the time, but it was clear that he was listening to and thoroughly analyzing every argument that was put forth, replying swiftly and concisely whenever he was called to speak. Though he never actually openly endorsed Thundersnow's actions, he didn't allow blatant badmouthing of his tribe's head shamare, either. Overall, even to his detractors, he emerged as someone worthy of respect, despite his young age - Agate wasn't certain, but she thought he was in his late twenties, which was quite young for a chieftain. Some westerners even began whispering that they needed a younger chieftain themselves, once they saw how well he handled himself in the debates. Once spring came and it was time for the three tribes to go their separate ways once again, things were noticeably colder between the tribes. Still, despite the somewhat awkward atmosphere, they managed to keep their behavior somewhere between cordial and professional. While great changes were clearly upon them, they clung to their remaining traditions even more fervently, even if some of the ponies reciting the traditional farewells and well-wishes didn't sound entirely sincere. Oak Bark and the western shamares were clearly still bitter about the whole thing, glaring towards the stoic northerners as they left, though that was the extent of their actions. Their tribesponies were a little more relaxed, though, having decided that the whole conflict was largely between shamares, which was way over their heads, and definitely not something they should get involved in. Meanwhile, the southerners were largely shaking their heads in disappointment, looking on at the two leaving tribes like parents at a pair of squabbling children. Which was not an entirely incorrect comparison, seeing as the other two tribes did split away from the southern one, many years ago. "You should know that Snowpitt will always remain a safe place to seek shelter in no matter what happens, even if it means expanding it's borders to ten times what it is now," Frostbeard reassured Jagged Ice. "And I appreciate it, elder, but we both know that even with you building new villages and growing more food, that many ponies would not be able to survive for long in such a small area. I do not seek to undo our ancient ways at all, but the Gathering is a young pony's game now, and there is nothing that can be done about it any more. We are the victims of our own success, I suppose. Now, I must make sure that the success doesn't turn into disaster. Be well," The northerner chieftain replied with a respectful nod. "You too, chieftain. Try not to go too crazy with the magic." "That's... Really not my territory to trespass in," The young stallion grimaced. "I want peace between our tribes as much as anyone else, but you know that you're not supposed to go against the decisions of shamares, even if their orders seem odd. And Thundersnow... She helped the tribe a great many times." "Make sure her help doesn't do more harm than good," Earthsong said in a low voice, glancing at the mare in question, who was standing some distance away, talking to some of her tribesponies. Shooting a look between the two shamares, Jagged Ice shrugged helplessly, looking at Frostbeard with a "What am I supposed to do here?" expression. The old stallion pursed his lips, eventually shrugging himself. With a sigh, the northerner gave them one last nod, turning around and calling out to his tribe. With a cheer and a heave, the caravan moved out, the tribe eager to get back to their native territories. Agate watched them go, still not quite sure what to think or how to feel. She liked the northern tribe and had lots of friends and acquaintances among them, but that didn't mean she was going to blindly defend them when they did something wrong. As Thundersnow said, though, what she did didn't seem all that bad. No permanent harm came to either any pony, or the world at large. "So, will you be going on your usual northern jaunt?" Earthsong asked the ponderous spirit, glancing towards the retreating forms of the northerners. "Yes. I've been doing it for so long, it's second nature at this point. I think I spent more time with them than I have here in the south, given how long I'm usually gone," Agate replied, nodding firmly. "How's that going, then? It's been decades. Surely you must have explored every nook and cranny of their islands by now?" "Oh, you'd be surprised, elder," Agate shook her head with a chuckle. "There's scores and scores of islands. That's not all I do, though. I have been spending more time teaching ponies about crystals than scouting, not to mention that, quite often, a good part of the journey is taken up by me meeting up with various friends." "Mmm. You have an adoptive family of sorts, don't you?" "Yeah. I don't get to spend all that much time with them, but it's still nice. There's lots of ponies that want to meet me, actually, but I just don't have time for them all." Giving Agate a discerning look, Earthsong smiled lightly. "Perhaps you could tell them not to mess with nature's cycles too much, then." Raising her eyebrows, the spirit turned her heard sharply towards the shamare. "What? Me?" "Certainly. From what I heard, and what you just said yourself, the northern tribe highly respects you, don't they? You brought a lot of wealth and knowledge to them." Pursing her lips, Agate tapped a ghostly hoof on the ground contemplatively as she thought about how to best reply. Flicking an ear uncertainly, she shook her head. "I'm not sure how much, or if I should interfere in this at all, elder. You snowponies have accepted me as your own, and I do care about you all, but I'm still a crystal pony. As much as I've learned of your ways, I haven't been raised on your traditions, and I'm not the kind of pony that knows what's the best way forward in situations like these. I teach some crystal magic here and there, not... Hmm, what's the word? Politics? Proper behavior between separate tribes? I hardly even know any of the rules about that. I never hung around the tribe's chieftains much." "I suppose you're mostly right. Your position does lend you a lot of credibility to serve as a neutral arbiter, though. I don't think there's a single pony, in any of the three tribes, that would think you have some ulterior motive. You've firmly established the honesty and kindness of your character quite well over the years." "Arbiter... That's not a word I heard in quite some time. I'll... See what I can do, elder, but I really, really can't promise anything. I mean, Jagged Ice offered the westerners the gift, which they simply refused. Isn't an apology gift the proper way to solve things like these?" "Hrn, yes," Earthsong grimaced, like she bit into something bitter. "Oak Bark has been the westerner's chieftain for most of my life, and I never thought that he could be so prideful. His irritation was understandable, but a leader should be able to keep a cool head in matter such as these. Sadly, it is near impossible to get a true measure of one's character and behavior in a crisis unless one actually happens." Agate nodded slowly, gazing off into the distance. The two mares stood in silence for some time, turning things over in their heads and pondering the situation. A sudden gust of wind blew by, tossing both the living and the ethereal pony's manes about. Glancing at Agate's form, Earthsong smiled again. "You really grew into a lovely mare, by the way. Very exotic. The colts would be all over you, if, you know. You were still alive." Agate snorted at that, shaking her head with a grin. "Sure, all over me to drag me away and stick me near a fireplace for the rest of my life, maybe. I still get comments from some ponies about my lack of coat and whether I get cold, even as a spirit." "Hah! Whenever our peoples finally manage to meet, the event is sure to be interesting. If that happens at all, I suppose. A thousand years is a long time..." "Bit less than a thousand now. But they'll meet, I'll make sure of that. I'm certain there will be no shortage of ponies that will want to come with me to see the Empire." "Your determination truly is legendary, Agate. I only hope that they'll be able to do it as united people, instead of squabbling foals." Sighing, Agate rolled her eyes. "As I said, I really can't promise anything, elder, but I'll see what I can do - if anything even needs to be done. Perhaps this will simply blow over." "Hm, well, Thundersnow seemed rather set in her path... She might truly have good intentions, but I fear that may well be her undoing. Using such power so recklessly..." Earthsong trailed off for a moment, shaking her head. "But, I suppose I already talked your ears off enough about that topic. You'll be going, then? I suppose I'll see you again come autumn." "Yeah. I might drop by in a dream, we'll see. Be well, elder." With a nod, Agate turned and trotted away, her mind buzzing with thoughts.