//------------------------------// // Going In Circles // Story: Agate's Vigil // by Wingnut //------------------------------// Agate watched the conversation from a little ways away, sitting on a thick boulder overlooking the bay. She decided to travel south the same way she went north - by wing, staying behind just long enough to observe the migrating ponies take to the waves. She waved to Thundersnow, the mare and nearly the entire expedition waving back before pushing off the shore and paddling away. The fleet of boats was fairly large, but the traffic coming in actually outweighed the group going south. As Smoky Bay expanded, more and more families were able to come and winter in the mild and pleasantly warm island, the elders taking care of the homes while the adventurous younglings were off in the distant fishing grounds. Many of the arriving ponies waved to Agate as well, cries of "bird spirit" from the foals reaching her ears. Snorting, Agate couldn't keep a small smile off her face. Though she still disliked being that well-known, she couldn't deny that her new abilities were lots of fun, which meant that ponies would inevitably end up talking about them. With all the flying, she was getting better and better, to the point she thought she reached a new level in her skills. The improvement in her abilities didn't go unnoticed by the mystics of the tribe, which prompted them to share some of the deeper secrets of their craft with Agate. As a spirit, she hung around shamares quite a lot already, but she still wasn't one herself. With her magic getting better and better, though, they started to view her as a shamare of sorts, instead of just an exotic traveler with a few magical tricks up her sleeve. As the shamares explained to her, some of the magic-related things they did were done out of habit rather than necessity. Some shamares muttered mystic words and spells while they wove their charms or made enchantments, while others did not, and yet, their efforts would yield the same results. Apparently, the catch was a mixture of will, belief and perception. Some young ponies had great spiritual strength, but had little confidence in themselves, or just plain didn't believe that they were capable of powerful magic. The solution to that was to teach them "magical" words and chants. While some words did have power, they still had to be spoken with will and intent - if a pony just spoke them out loud with no clue about what it meant, absolutely nothing would happen. The chants often helped the trainee shamares focus, though, bringing forth the true source of power - themselves. Eventually, some of them lost the habit, weaving their spells with pure will and focus. Agate didn't know whether her dream magic and shapeshifting worked the same way, but she felt the analogy was fairly accurate. At first, she needed to fall asleep to be able to shapeshift, but, as time went on, she noticed that it was getting easier and easier to reach the mental state needed to sprout wings and take off. After a while, she wasn't even sure if she needed to relax her mind that much to shed her mental constraints and achieve what she wanted - she'd shapeshifted loads of times, so she certainly already believed that she was capable of it, even when she was awake. Or perhaps, as Dreamcatcher said that one time, life really was but a dream. Who knew. As such, she decided to try and fly south without falling asleep. It was a fair bit harder, as she actually had to think and decide on the shape she wanted to become, instead of her subconscious just somehow doing all the work for her. Agate was resolved, though, even stalking a few specific northern birds to study their looks and feathers. She picked a tern as the one she decided to imitate, the relatively small and lithe birds apparently being known for their long-range flight capabilities. "Alright then... I'm not a pony, I'm a swift little bird..." It was odd, contorting yourself into a new shape. Not just because it wasn't possible while you were still alive, but also because spirits had to expend effort to actually maintain their pony forms, or risk dissipating. Hijacking the process to change into something else seemed like a clever trick, but it also carried its risks. As Agate herself experienced, it was easy to get lost in the fun of flying, and if she thought of herself as a bird a little too hard, she might just become one for real, forgetting how to trot and talk, endlessly soaring through the northern skies. She did her best to firmly keep up the thoughts that this was just temporary, that she was still Agate underneath it all in the back of her mind every time she flew. She started with her forelegs, picturing feathers on the appendages, slowly moving them to her sides in a way that would be quite impossible for a living pony without dislocating their joints. Squatting down, she saw the world get bigger and bigger as her whole form shrank down, the feathers moving to cover the rest of her body as her hindlegs became thin as twigs, hooves turning into small talons. A few minutes of focusing later, she shook herself, glancing over her translucent form. Everything looked good. With a final glance, Agate took a moment to steel herself before hopping forward with her avian legs and spreading her wings. She wobbled in the air a bit at first, but with a few more powerful strokes of her wings, she was soon flying as well as any time before. Some ponies noticed her as she went by, whistling or waving to her as she gained altitude. It wasn't long until she caught up to, and then passed the fleet travelling south. Following the tiny glowing ember of her totem, she aimed straight towards Snowpitt, letting the pull of her little lighthouse guide her. ❅ ❆ ❅ The distance from Green Land to Snowpitt was quite large, but Agate was essentially tireless, and much faster than she was in the past. Still, the journey did drain her mentally and magically, so when she reached her destination, instead of going to talk to anyone, she just went straight to her totem to get a good night's sleep. Landing on top, she didn't get to think about what to do next as she was sucked in with a surprised squawk, her ethereal feathers falling around the totem in a shimmering cloud before dissipating. Snorting with wry amusement, she wiggled about, getting comfortable in the totem's field of soothing magic. While she got used to prolonged journeys in the north, sleeping wherever, coming back still felt incredibly pleasant and relaxing. From what the northerners told her, soaking in a hot spring was the closest sensation she could use to describe resting in her totem. The next morning, she took her time getting up, enjoying a short moment of peace after her frantic months of working with Thundersnow. Lazily exiting her totem, she turned around, examining the pillar with lidded eyes. Her body wasn't the only thing that went through some changes over the years, the crystals in her totem continuing to shift and grow, making the whole thing look quite different than the day it was planted there. Back in the day, she decided not to mess with the crystals in fear of breaking something, but, over time, she couldn't resist poking around a little, worried that doing nothing might end up being worse in the long run. Even though the tree was enchanted to be extra durable, it wasn't unbreakable. Her main concern was the embedded crystals growing too big and splintering the lumber, so she tried to guide their growth outwards rather than inwards. She was fairly certain that, if the totem broke, it wouldn't really hurt her, nor would the snowponies blame her for it, given that it was their design choice to build it that way. Still, she didn't want to just sit by and do nothing, either. It would have been pretty rude of her to just let the home they gifted her to fall apart without even trying to do some maintenance, and then expect for them to build a new one. Fortunately, although Agate's crystal manipulation skills still were somewhere between "novice" and "apprentice", that was sufficient for what she needed. The crystal spires were already growing lengthwise, so she just had to make sure that they didn't grow in width, subtly manipulating their structure to make superficial faults that worked as drainage channels for the flowing magic, directing it all outwards. As she watched the "branches" of her bewitched tree grow over the years, she had another idea. Well, it wasn't entirely her idea. As she observed the process, she noticed that the crystal was ever-so-slowly spreading out along the surface of the totem, the bare log looking like it was growing back its bark as well. She did her best to encourage that, surmising that encasing the totem in a hard crystal shell should protect it from the elements for eons into the future. Agate remembered how weathered Gnarled Root's totem looked after a few hundred years, and, while it still stood strong and undamaged, she was planning to stay around several times longer than the old herbalist did. While she was giving the totem a once-over, she couldn't help but look at the artistic carvings the artisans made, their work still lovely even after several decades of being subjected to the elements. There was her bust, of course, carvings of the mountains, a set of hoofprints going around in an endless circle, and... "Huh, wait. The birds..." Agate pursed her lips, moving in close enough that her muzzle was almost touching the totem. One of the carvings was a flock of birds, their forms looking oddly familiar now. "Are those terns?" Naturally, Agate had questioned shamares about stuff related to her totem many times, and not just regarding the raw mechanics of how it worked. She knew about the symbolism behind her specific carvings, but didn't really give them much thought, given that the pictures were chosen in a bit of a rush, according to the ponies that made them. She thought the crystals embedded in the wood represented her better than anything else, given that the images were supposed to depict her history and nature. Now, she wasn't so sure any more. "It has to be some kind of weird coincidence...Right? They made this decades before I even thought about flying... And it was supposed to be purely symbolic." She spent a few more minutes staring at the carvings in slight confusion, Thundersnow's words about the thoughts and expectations of others affecting her life echoing in the back of her head. Eventually, she snapped out of it, shaking her head and trotting off. She had things to do and ponies to talk to. ❅ ❆ ❅ "Hello, Earthsong." "Oh! Oh, hello, Agate! I didn't see you there. You're as silent as ever." "As if you snowponies are any different. I was constantly getting snuck up on by everyone and their grandmother, until I learned to be even more aware of my surroundings than usual. Anyway, are you free for a while? I have things I want to talk about, and it might take some time to go through it all." "Mmmm... Yes, barring any emergencies, I'm free for the day. How did it go with Thundersnow?" "If I had to summarize it, I would say "unexpectedly". I don't think anything but the full story will do, though. Since I flew ahead, I managed to arrive well before any northerners..." Earthsong listened quietly as Agate told her about the events during the year. Though shamares always tried to be stoic and aloof, the spirit could tell that Earthsong wasn't happy that she didn't try to use her influence to order Thundersnow around, but she didn't comment on it. Once Agate got to the spirit bird assault incident, though, the shamare's calm facade began to crack, and by the end of it, she was facehoofing with both forelegs, rubbing her face and groaning in exasperation. While Agate recounted the less important things that happened afterwards, Earthsong went to make a cup of tea, shaking her head. Waiting for the tea to brew let her calm down a bit, and when Agate was done, she was mostly back to her collected self, though she obviously still was quite unhappy. "Alright, Agate... Are you sure it was the westerners that caused it?" "I don't know, elder, but I don't see any alternative options. It doesn't sound like it's something that could happen by itself, and I saw flocks of birds exactly like it being called by westerner shamares in the past already. And I'm pretty good at noticing details and seeing stuff. I spent years and years on scouting trips, remember?" "I remember, Agate... And what is the northern tribe planning to do about this provocation?" "Nothing, probably." "Really? That was quite a grave crime, I would say..." "The northerners are tough, elder, they're used to dealing with wild things and attacks. I don't know what they'll do for sure, but I heard them talking about taking the high road and just ignoring the whole thing. If they don't change their minds on their way here, that's probably what they're going to do." "Spirits grant us that they don't have a change of heart, then, and that this will be the end of this ridiculous spat..." ❅ ❆ ❅ Agate spent the next couple of weeks catching up with various friends and acquaintances she made over the years. As usual, the westerners arrived a little earlier than the northern tribe, settling in to their regular spots with little fanfare. There were some curious looks towards them, ponies wondering whether the woodland tribe would have any more complaints this year, but if they did, they chose not to air them. Or not yet, at least. The northerners were quick to follow, arriving during a mild (for them, at least) blizzard, chuckling and laughing at the comparatively feeble southern weather. They too settled in without much issue, though Agate couldn't help but notice that the fields and longhouses assigned to the visiting tribes by the southerner's chieftain were spaced out just a little bit further apart than the previous years. Things seemed civil and calm, but that was to be expected. The visitors were busy settling in, not even coming into much contact with each other. The true state of things would only be revealed during the first meeting of the year in the Grand Hall, which is precisely where the gathered tribes went as soon as they got comfortable. Agate went with the southerner shamare contingent, sitting down with the mystics and observing the three chieftains engage in their ritualistic greetings. Swift Dash introduced himself as the chieftain of the southern tribe this time, Frostbeard still being present, but sitting further back, clearly only filling an advisory role now. Jagged Ice and his contingent of elders and shamares were cool and collected, while Oak Bark, besides being a bit older and his limbs slightly more crooked, seemed a bit... Odd. Agate wasn't entirely certain, but it looked to her as if the old stallion was smug about something, while trying not to let it show. His shamares gave off the same vibe, surreptitiously shooting stealthy glances towards Thundersnow. As the host, Swift Dash began the proceedings. "Well then, let us begin. As you all heard, I took over the duties of chieftain this fall. The southern tribe continues to prosper and grow, slow as it may be. Two more potential sites for new settlements have been found. The tundra is still as sparse in good soil as ever, though, so growing new villages takes no less time than growing an entire tree from the ground up. Still, it's steady work, since we're not usually dealing with any dangers. All we need is time, which we have in abundance. Any news from our sister tribes?" Usually, the speakers went by seniority, and since in the gathering of the tribes, the western one was the second oldest, Oak Bark spoke up next. Before doing so, though, he shot a long, disdainful glare towards Jagged Ice. The awkward pause made most of the ponies in attendance glance between each other, expecting the resumption of hostilities from last year. "A fine enough year, despite the unpleasant beginning. Some of our more daring explorers are saying they have found a potentially habitable valley between a pair of mountains, though it remains to be seen whether it's actually worth settling. Other than that, I can't say that there's anything newsworthy." Swift Dash pursed his lips, hesitating for a moment before carefully phrasing a question to Oak Bark. "A calm year, then? Everything went well, including your seasonal autumn festivities?" "Of course," Oak Bark sniffed, letting some of that hidden smugness through. "The salmon migration would not be interfered with again, we made sure of that." There was another pause as the audience tried to figure out the implications of the vaguely ominous statement. Swift Dash furrowed his brows thoughtfully as he glanced towards the northerners, but Jagged Ice remained completely impassive, showing no reaction whatsoever. Thundersnow couldn't entirely keep herself under control, though, letting out a tiny snort as she covered her muzzle with a hoof. The action didn't go unnoticed by the western shamares and their chief, the mystics scowling at the amused northerner. "Nothing grand to report this year either," Jagged Ice began after a moment. "None of our explorers are out and about, and they probably won't be for at least a few more seasons. We're still poking around Green Land, and Smoky Bay is expanding as fast as we can build. I'm sure my people will dig up something exciting again when we properly settle in, but the news will likely be the same for some time." "Hah. Nothing exciting to report at all? I guess you learned your place, then, pup. Sit quietly in your islands where you belong," Oak Bark remarked disdainfully, making a good part of the listeners, including Agate, go wide-eyed. While snowponies traded insults and barbs often enough that they made actual games and contests out of it, it was always in good faith, and this was not it. "Excuse me?" Jagged Ice inquired, his voice still controlled and flat, though Agate could see his muscles shifting slightly as he tensed. "Oh, nothing," Oak Bark tried to wave it off, likely noticing the less than favorable reactions from the surrounding ponies. "Just curious that you didn't deign to mention the punishment the spirits surely enacted on your tribe for your transgressions the past year. No matter." "And... How would you know what the spirits of our islands think of us, chieftain? We are quite far away, after all, and live in fairly different territories. Did your shamares visit some of our islands to commune with the spirits? Either way, no. For your information, nothing like that happened to our tribe," Jagged Ice replied, his tone of voice highly skeptical. "Really. Nothing?" Oak Bark scowled, glancing towards his shamares, who's expressions were quite sour as well. "No. Both the building and the fishing have been great, and there were no unusual maladies or curses that my people reported," The northerner chieftain replied with a carefree shrug. The whole exchange seemed to amuse Thundersnow beyond her capacity for self-control, her whole body shaking as she jammed both hooves on her muzzle in a heroic effort not to start laughing her flanks off. While Oak Bark kept frowning, he didn't seem sure on how to proceed. His shamares were a bit more certain, though, one of their elders pointing an accusing hoof at Thundersnow. "Quit playing tough, you arrogant twit! We laid you out for at least a month with the spirits we sicced on you, and if you keep trying to play it off, we'll do it again, to make sure you really learn your lesson!" If the mare intended to put Thundersnow down, it had the absolutely opposite effect. The shamare began howling with laughter, barely able to keep herself from collapsing on the floor. "AHAHAHAHAHAHAH! YOU FOALS! YOU- YOU- AHAHAH, YOU ABSOLUTE NEOPHYTES! AAAAAHAHAH!" "What is the meaning of this?" Swift Dash rumbled, turning his head back and forth between the two tribe's representatives while trying to make sense of the developing situation. Meanwhile, Thundersnow kept going. "A month?! I've- I've been mildly sore for a COUPLE DAYS afterwards! Ahahah, heh heh heh..." Thundersnow mostly managed to stop laughing, though that was purely because she ran out of air, and began wheezing at that point. "You weaklings thought you hurt me with that cheap trick?! Oh, ancestors, protect me from harm, I might die of laughter..." "What?! Arrogant wretch! You're lying through your teeth! There were a good half a dozen of us in that ritual, and we poured our strength into it!" "And I blew it all away all by myself! Ahahah!" Earthsong, meanwhile, was sharing significant looks with the rest of the southern shamares. "You all heard that, right?" The southern cabal of mystics all nodded, their expressions solemn. Agate didn't ask to keep the information about the attack of spirits completely secret, but she did tell the shamare not to spread it around in case the westerners tried denying it, starting a back-and-forth round of unprovable accusations. Earthsong agreed, wanting to find out the truth herself, only sharing the story with the other shamares. Agate wondered if she told Swift Dash, but the southern chieftain didn't seem aware of what they were talking about. While the shamares were trading insults, each chieftain was doing his own thing. Swift Dash was confused, but also clearly getting more and more frustrated at what was happening, his face twisted into a scowl as his eyes darted back and forth. Oak Bark was furious, snarling at the northerners while Jagged Ice was still sitting calmly as ever, cool as a cucumber. The only emotion on his face was faint amusement as Thundersnow laughed off the westerner's assault. It didn't take long for Swift Dash to try and bring order back to the meeting. Clopping his hooves loudly, he roared. "ENOUGH!" Try being the key word, though. A brief silence descended on the Hall, but it didn't last long. Oak Bark only shot him a disdainful look before shaking his head. "Sit down, pup, this isn't any of your business. These upstarts think they can insult my tribe again and again with impunity? I'll have to teach them otherwise, it seems." "We, insult you? What was that about the spirits punishing us? And then the slip of the tongue as you admitted it was actually you behind the attack and that you made it all up, you conniving, lying coward? Your own actions insult you more than we ever could," Jagged Ice rumbled, giving Oak Bark a flat look, the old stallion's eye twitching in barely contained rage. "What attack?! What, exactly, are you two arguing about?" Swift Dash inquired fiercely. He was ignored by Oak Bark, who was reaching for a clay mug next to him. While Jagged Ice opened his mouth to answer, the westerner's chieftain lobbed the mug at Jagged Ice with a fierce roar, aiming for his head. The young stallion's reflexes were sharp, though, and he managed to close his eyes and nod his head, deliberately headbutting the mug with his forehead, the poor thing shattering into tiny shards. Giving his head a tiny shake to dislodge any remaining bits of clay, he opened his eyes again. He said nothing, but his disdainful look towards Oak Bark spoke plenty. There was a tense moment of absolute silence, where you could hear a pin drop. Where his previous insult made the listeners go wide-eyed, the actual physical assault made them go slack-jawed, including Agate. A snowpony attacking another was not unheard of, but the current circumstances made it extremely shocking. "YOU DARE?! IN MY HOUSE?!" Swift Dash, meanwhile, lost the final bits of his patience, standing up and furiously shouting at Oak Bark. "I told you to mind your business, foal," Oak Bark growled as he stood up as well, beginning to approach Jagged Ice. "I am the chieftain of the southern tribe," He spoke firmly, stopping Oak Bark in his tracks by pressing a hoof into his chest. "And I will be addressed as such. And I will not have my hospitality and Snowpitt's sanctuary spat on in front of me and do nothing. This is my business, thank you very much. Now, either you immediately sit down and explain yourself, or-" "Chieftain of a few months? Please." Oak Bark clearly wasn't inclined to listen. Smacking Swift Dash's hoof aside, he tried to sidestep him, but the other stallion had enough. With an angry cry, he raised a foreleg, smashing Oak Bark across the head in a vicious backhoof. The older chieftain shouted in pain, barely able to keep his balance. Swaying on his legs, he stared at Swift Dash, breathing heavily. "Y-you dare-" "Silence!" "You don't tell me what-" Swift Dash's answer was another hoof to his face, which made Oak Bark collapse to the ground like a sack of carrots. There were a number of gasps from everyone watching, including the western shamares, who started muttering darkly, some of them seemingly reaching for their powers. Seeing this, Earthsong tapped the floor, making the westerners jolt suddenly, as if the ground stung them. Seeing the southern elder's warning glare, they settled down, though their expressions were even darker. "Spare not the cold-hearted windigo-borne, for along with himself, his greed and foolishness will doom the entire tribe to the cold of a thousand winters. Cast him out to be with his windigo kin, lest he bring death to your kin, turn the fire of your hearth to ashes and ice, your food stores to rot and naught, and your spirit to hopelessness," Swift Dash intoned ritualistically, standing over the prone form of Oak Bark. Agate wasn't all that familiar with snowpony laws. As a spirit, most of them didn't really concern her any more, and she only brushed up against them briefly in her travels, or heard small snippets through stories. Even then, they were largely about property rights - who would get to claim which crystal deposit that she discovered, and so on. This definitely had the feel and sound of a law, though. Oak Bark, meanwhile, didn't even try getting up, staring at Swift Dash in disbelief. "Y-you can't banish me! I'm a chieftain!" "The law doesn't mention there being any exemptions for chieftains," Swift Dash spoke plainly, having managed to get his anger back under control. "You can't- Frostbeard! Tell your son to cease this foolishness!" Now slightly panicked, the westerner turned towards the former chieftain of the southerners. Frostbeard gave his son a long look. Swift Dash stood his ground, though, not even turning his head to see whether he had his father's approval or not. A wide smile slowly split the old stallion's face, Frostbeard nodding serenely. "I have never been more proud of you than I am now, son. It seems that I raised you well." "You did, father. Thank you," Swift Dash spoke, briefly glancing towards him before turning back to Oak Bark. "This- This is ridiculous! Banishment means nothing, that old law is obsolete! Snowpitt isn't the only settlement any more, I'll just go back to my tribe!" Oak Bark shouted, wide-eyed and breathing heavily. "Do you think they'll accept you?" Swift Dash inquired with raised eyebrows, turning his gaze upwards, towards the gathered crowd. For the first time since they arrived, Oak Bark looked away from the central bit of the floor where the elders and chieftains were gathered, and looked outwards. To his unpleasant surprise, his tribesponies were clearly quite unhappy with what he did, many shaking their heads, while some of them even shouted insults at him. "Disgrace!" "You brought shame upon our tribe!" Social standing was another area that Agate wasn't too aware of, but she did know a bit more about it than laws. And she knew enough to understand that any social standing that Oak Bark, as a respected elder and long-time chieftain of the western tribe had managed to build up over the years, just took a massive nosedive. It didn't just go to zero, it went well past it into the negatives. A single act like a thrown mug wouldn't have caused such an uproar if it happened between two regular ponies, and probably wouldn't even be considered anything noteworthy if no one else had seen it. But chieftains were held to higher standards - ponies expected them to be the paragons of unflappable, well-disciplined warriors, ready to spring to their tribe's defense. And such a petty act, along with his apparent secret attack on the northern tribe, shattered Oak Bark's image harder than he shattered the mug. Not to mention, doing it in Snowpitt, the great snowpony sanctuary city, the one oasis of peace in the otherwise largely unforgiving wilderness, made it doubly wrong. Even if other safe settlements existed nowadays, the sentiment still remained. "I... I..." "Last chance, Oak Bark. I give you one last mercy. Apologize to Ja- No. No, apologize to everyone here. Your behavior insulted the entire Gathering of the tribes. You spat on our traditions while accusing the northern tribe of doing the same, and you spat on my hospitality by engaging in this in Snowpitt." Taking in a shuddering breath, Oak Bark managed to stand up, though his legs were still shaking quite badly. Gritting his teeth, he took a few more breaths, trying to stabilize himself. "I... Apologize... For my outburst. I should not have given in to the provocations of-" "What provocations?" Jagged Ice inquired calmly, still calmly sitting in his spot. "You called me a conniving cowa-" "Yes, after you admitted that you connived an attack on our tribe, and tried to pass it off as the spirits being mad at us, like a coward." Oak Bark hissed, to which Jagged Ice stomped a hoof, furrowing his brows. The old stallion took a few more breaths, attempting to recompose himself. Glancing around at the disapproving audience one last time, he grunted. "Very well. I see now that there is not much I can say here. Nothing that would change anything much, anyway. So, then, hear this. I have failed in my task as a chieftain. I have failed my tribe, after the affront caused by the northerners. I let my anger, rightful as it may have been, to get the better of me, and act in a way unbecoming for one of my years and stature. For that, I apologize, to every pony here in the Hall. There. Happy?" Swift Dash gave him a flat look, clearly unimpressed by the not-apology that still put most of the blame on others. Jagged Ice, meanwhile, maintained his indifferent demeanor. ""Happy" would imply that I sought this, or that I orchestrated this somehow. Everything that just happened to you, chieftain, was done by yourself, to yourself. I couldn't care less." "Alright then," Swift Dash grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Since the northern tribe doesn't seem interested in seeking restitution, I will not push this matter further. However, this is not over. Would someone care to fill me in on this mysterious attack that I keep hearing about?" "Since my words don't seem to carry any weight here, I have nothing to say," Oak Bark scoffed, slinking off back to his spot and slumping down on the floor, where a shamare began examining the bruises on his head. "Then perhaps you should have kept silent. Anyone else?" Predictably, Jagged Ice spoke up. "My shamare, Thundersnow, would probably be able to do it best, since she was the main target. Or, if you're concerned about her being biased, Agate, the traveler spirit, witnessed the whole thing herself, point blank." Nodding, Swift Dash returned to his seat as well. "You've conducted yourself very well so far, Jagged Ice, but as everyone knows, when two parties feud, it is always best to get an uninvolved bystander's opinion, and I am certain Agate will remain neutral, even with her ties to your tribe. Traveler spirit? May we partake in your knowledge?" "Very well, chieftain. Here's what happened..." ❅ ❆ ❅ Given how seriously everyone was taking this, Agate did her best to describe what she saw, providing as detailed of an account of the events as she could. Once she was done, Thundersnow added a few more bits and pieces from her perspective, completing the picture - from their side, at least. Everyone was curious about the western tribe's take on the event, but they kept quiet, not uttering a single word since Oak Bark sat back down. "Disappointing," Was Swift Dash's conclusion. "Very much so, chieftain," Earthsong agreed. "While everyone wishes to see injustices righted, there is such a thing as overreacting. Much as I disapprove of the way Thundersnow uses her shamaric magic, what the western tribe did is a dozen times worse." "I'm really quite alright. It wasn't nearly as bad as others make it out to be," The shamare in question grinned cockily, tossing her snowy mane with a flourish. "Intentions matter, however. What they intended to happen was quite bad," Earthsong retorted with a frown. "Hurt my spirit so badly I'd be helpless? Yes, quite the goal. What if my people needed something from me, something important? What if there was a sudden danger of some kind? So reckless..." Thundersnow kept shooting looks towards the westerners as she spoke, goading them to say something. However, while they certainly made all kinds of displeased expressions, they remained stubbornly quiet. Earthsong wasn't having it, though, addressing them directly. "Why do you not speak, oh wise elders of the western tribe? Do you truly have nothing to say for yourselves? Usually, that might give one hope that you actually understand the depth of your crime and are regretting it, but judging by your bitter expressions, you seem to be under the odd - no, downright mad - impression that you're still the aggrieved party in this conflict." "That's because we are. Do you think we're going to take these insults lying down?!" Losing her composure,one of the shamares spat angrily, the others glaring at her. No one seemed particularly impressed by the outburst, however. "What insults? The mockery for your failure to cause any real harm to Thundersnow is well deserved, I feel, and any other grievances you might have were already settled last year. As I recall, you yourselves refused the proper compensation from the northern tribe," Swift Dash grumbled, having little patience for the westerner's antics as well. Agate could almost hear the sound of grinding teeth as the shamare glared at Swift Dash with such unbridled fury that even the well-disciplined stallion was taken aback. Blinking slowly, he, along with many other confused ponies in attendance, studied the mystic's face, trying to understand just what in his words set her off. Unfortunately, that only made the westerners double down on their silence. After a few more failed attempts at coaxing an answer from the western tribe's elders, and the topics exhausted, the meeting was called to a close. As the ponies shuffled outside, Oak Bark and his contingent did their best to leave with their heads held high, but their efforts were marred by the old stallion badly swaying on his hooves, and the common tribesfolk trotting past him without any acknowledgment. ❅ ❆ ❅ "That was... Something," Agate concluded, sitting in Earthsong's home. "Mm, yes, well summarized, Agate. It was indeed something," The old mare agreed, grinning wryly. "It feels like my first days here all over again. I'm watching you snowponies do stuff, and I can't make heads or tails of it." "Unfortunately, neither can I," Earthsong let out a melancholy sigh, losing the grin. "Oak Bark is prideful, that is eminently obvious. We already found that out last year, and he demonstrated it again now, when he disrespected my chieftain. But I expected better from his shamares. It feels like something else is happening here, but I don't understand what." "What do you think is going to happen now?" "With the way things have been going so far, I am leery of making any guesses. The only thing I can say with some certainty is that the western tribe will have a new chieftain very soon, perhaps even this winter, though I think they'll want to return to the rest of their tribe first." "How are new chieftains chosen? That's not something I ever looked into, and there doesn't seem to be a specific set of rules, not that I heard of, anyway." "Because there isn't. Different times call for different kinds of leadership, and it'd make for an awkward situation if we thought up some terribly specific way to become one, only to then find out that no pony fits the criteria, heh." "Hmm. That's the opposite of the way we did it in the Empire... I think." "Oh? And how did your faraway tribe do it?" "The titles were passed down from parents to children, ranked by age, eldest going first." "Oh? Family only? That seems... Hm. What if the children don't quite measure up to the standards? Or if something befalls the family, and there's no heir?" "Other family members step in... I think. Brothers, cousins. I was still quite young then, I haven't learned much besides the basics." "Well, there have been family lines that held the title of chieftain for hundreds of years, but that was only because the chieftains did their best to raise their sons properly. There is a level of favor for the children of chieftains that did their duties well, but if they turn out to be unimpressive, other ponies tend to step in." "And how exactly does it work? What's the actual process of becoming a chieftain?" At that, Earthsong got a wistful look, looking off into the distance. "Ahh, it's been a while since I told any stories. Well, let's see... If there's an open position, and more than one pony aiming for the role, a challenge of some kind is thought up by the elders of the tribe. It could be many things - a quest to retrieve a rare herb from some dangerous part of the territory, or perhaps tracking down and slaying a fearsome beast that's been bothering the tribe. And, if the previous chieftain died violently to some monster, then the incoming one is invariably expected to track it down and avenge his predecessor, even if there's only one pony that's eligible to take the role. Or, it could be a more direct contest, pitting the opponents against each other - a race of endurance, followed by a test of strength, ending with a sparring match, until only one remains." "So, a chieftain is expected to be strong... Frostbeard got quite old before retiring, though." "Yes, but wisdom is also an essential part of being a chieftain. If a pony is physically weaker than their opponent, but manages to outsmart them in some stunningly clever way, the tribe always tend to favor the cunning one. There is also the matter of self-control and discipline. A chieftain must be strong to lead and protect his kin, not to put them down. No matter how strong, boorish braggarts get tossed aside without a second thought. Still, extra wisdom comes with age, and if a chieftain demonstrates that he possesses wisdom after his strength begins to wane, the ponies are more than happy to keep following him." "And if the old chieftain is still around, but... Hmm..." "Doesn't want to get replaced?" "Something like that, yeah." "I thought Oak Bark might feel that way, yes. It's a rare event, but it is not unheard of for a warrior of the tribe to throw a challenge to the chieftain, if they feel that he's behaving improperly. It only happens when the majority of the tribe feels the same way, though, because if the old chieftain was well respected, no one would follow the challenger's orders even if he won." "The western tribe did seem unhappy with him," Agate pondered, lying back and gazing at the ceiling. "Yes, which is why I'm so certain that they're going to replace him soon." "So... Do you think this feud might end with Oak Bark getting replaced?" The spirit asked, turning back to look Earthsong in the eyes. "Spirits willing, Agate. Spirits willing," The old mare sighed, slumping down a little. "I'm a spirit. So if I will it...?" Earthsong stared at Agate for a long minute before snorting and taking a swipe at the giggling spirit mare. "I swear, you take far too much after True Sight sometimes." "I wonder what the old goof would have to say about this whole thing." "Me too, Agate, me too." ❅ ❆ ❅ It was a long and cold winter. Not for any supernatural reason, though, as the shamares assured the gathered tribes. No windigoes or anything else out of the ordinary circled the skies. The weather just decided to turn particularly biting that season, far as anyone could tell. Heavy blizzards passed by several times, only for the sky to turn stunningly clear afterwards, every single drop of moisture having frozen solid. Bright stars glimmered above Snowpitt, the snowponies partaking in their usual rituals. Much like before, the regular tribesponies largely didn't participate in the feud between the western and northern tribes, much to the southerner's relief. They really didn't want their calm city to turn into some kind of battleground, and they mostly got their wish. While some westerners were noticeably colder towards their cousins, Swift Dash's threat to kick their chieftain out during the first meeting more than likely made them reconsider doing anything foolish, and the majority didn't approve of his actions either way. Meanwhile, the elders of the two tribes studiously avoided each other the entire season. The only noticeable results of the tension were some friendly (or, perhaps, just pretending to be friendly) challenges thrown out to the northerners. Fortunately, the worst that came from those were some bruises and tufts of missing coats littering the snow after the vigorous wrestling matches were concluded. Agate spent the winter as she usually did, listening and talking. She chatted with Thundersnow now and then, though it was on simple topics, the shamare taking the time to meditate and recharge, spending half the time happily hibernating in her igloo. When spring rolled around and it was time for the tribes to go, the send-off was a little tepid. Oak Bark barely stuck around to mumble the traditional phrases and farewells before slinking off, his tribesponies already moving far ahead of him without waiting for his signal, clearly demonstrating that they didn't consider him their chieftain any more. There was a brief flare-up of tensions, though, as the westerner shamares trotted up to Thundersnow, surrounding her in a half-circle and glaring at the supremely unbothered northerner. While such a situation would intimidate just about any pony, the only reaction on Thundersnow's face was a mild sneer. "Can I help you, younglings?" Several of the westerners let out angry snorts at the insult, while their leader raised a foreleg to jab Thundersnow in the chest. "Listen here, you arrogant, wretched upstart. We had just about-" "No," Thundersnow interrupted, roughly smacking the offending appendage away. "You listen. I had just about enough of your ridiculous posturing, neophytes. We've established quite thoroughly that the lot of you barely measure up just to me, let alone the rest of my tribe's shamares. Continue with your foalish tantrums, and I will crush you. I ignored one attack. I will not ignore another. Annoy me at your own risk." "Ignored? We felt that cold front you sent on our forest for weeks. It ruined our spring," Another shamare hissed. "Ha! And that was merely to blow your damned birds back to where they came from. Imagine what I could do if I really got ticked off," Thundersnow cackled condescendingly. "You did a lot more than attack me, you attacked my tribe. Do that again and you will regret it." They might have stood there trading threats and measuring their respective skills for hours, if not for the thousands of observers from all three tribes. The altercation didn't go unnoticed, and both Jagged Ice and Swift Dash were making their way over, along with Earthsong and some southern shamares. Seeing this, the westerners huffed, turning tail and making after Oak Bark. "We shall see who will have the last laugh," Their eldest spat as she trotted off. "Everything alright, Thundersnow?" Jagged Ice inquired, squinting at the fleeing westerners. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with, chieftain. Just some fragile egos and impotent threats they can't actually carry out," Thundersnow reassured the stallion, waving the whole thing off. "If you say so..." The stallion sighed, clearly not fully believing her. "They still refuse to let go of this thing, it seems," Earthsong mused. "Well, I don't. I have far more important things to do," Jagged Ice replied with a roll of his eyes. "Best get to it, then, chieftain," Swift Dash nodded to his northerner counterpart, the two chieftains performing their ritualistic farewells before the northern tribe moved out. ❅ ❆ ❅ This time around, Agate decided to move on hoof, travelling with the migrating tribe the old-fashioned way. She was pretty sure that she was going to get plenty of flying practice later on anyway, and didn't feel like rushing ahead. Thundersnow was very happy when Agate told her that she wanted to keep working with the shamare, not really seeing any reason to quit just yet. They made their way across the tundra and reached Nilas with no issues, taking to the water with the usual vigor of the seafaring tribe. The first week of travel went smoothly, the travelers meeting a number of fisherponies from Smoky Bay already encamped on their islands, eager to get a head start on the new season. On the second week, though, the western shamares demonstrated that they didn't heed Thundersnow's warnings after all. Barely a league from an island they were moving towards, a sudden, furious storm engulfed the fleet of boats, the ponies paddling furiously to cross the last stretch as the waves tossed them to and fro. "Hold on! We'll be jumping out in a moment!" The stallion leading their boat shouted, the occupants nodding, not even bothering to shout acknowledgments through the noise of the gale. Thundersnow didn't seem very scared of the situation, her expression analytic as she attempted to scan the skies through the splashes of sea spray tossed in her face by the wind, muttering something under her breath as her ears turned back and forth, as if listening to a conversation between multiple ponies. When her time came, she gracefully leapt from the boat, helping the ponies drag it up on higher ground. "SECURE THE BOATS AND GET TO SHELTER!" Jagged Ice roared, his voice briefly overpowering the storm. "KEEP CALM AND DON'T RUSH, THIS IS HARDLY THE WORST NORTHERN WEATHER WE HAD TO DEAL WITH!" "Don't think it's northern, chieftain," Thundersnow muttered under her breath, Agate barely managing to hear her. "Do you think... Westerners?" She asked, glancing at the shamare. "Heh. Your hearing is too good, Agate. Yes, everything about this storm screams "unnatural". I can almost smell it. Not to mention, it came from the west. That almost never happens. Storms pick up speed and move from the eastern sea to the west, crashing against their mountains. A storm coming from there... Not completely unheard of, but I think it's too much of a coincidence. I need to listen to the wind spirits a bit more to make sure, but I'm fairly certain already." "Are you going to chase it off? Make it go away?" "Mmm... I probably could, but I don't see the need to waste my strength. We're on a safe island with good shelter now, so we might as well wait it out... And then, I can plan a response."