//------------------------------// // Prologue // Story: Heart Of The Land // by EdBoii //------------------------------// Dark Snow Twilight Sparkle's chest filled with air as her lungs expanded and allowed the essence of life into them. It was cold, so very cold, the air carried the scent of winter and pines, like a hearth warming's eve morning. It brought memories of her childhood, sitting with her mother and father by the chimney, enjoying a cup of hot chocolate, but it was so very cold. Her body was no longer her own, it was different, so very different and so very cold. The winter chill piercing through the pores on her skin, making the scarce hairs covering it stand, like sentries holding spears against a cavalry charge. But they could do little against the freezing night air, her elongated limbs shook like houses during an earthquake, so strong was the cold, so bare was her flesh. Hands and fingers twitched involuntarily, they were new, completely alien and unknown to the mind that lay asleep and freezing under a thin blanket of snow. It covered Twilight's naked body, protectively, lovingly, slowly depriving it from the warmth it needed to survive. Carefully and gently, like a lover in spring, it took away her life force, draining it close to a point of no return. Sparkle did not know how close she was of death, how soon she was of never seeing anything at all, of forevermore becoming one with space and time. But her hour was not to come just yet, she still had places to see and people to meet, she still needed to experience the hate and rage of the land, the love and touch of a lover, the pain and suffering of loss. She was yet to see the sun shine over her skin once more, and before the time came, before death could take her away, she woke. Gently, slowly and fearfully, her mind took control over the erratic movements of her hands. Of her legs and arms it made a force, tools if you may, fully focused on survival. Most of what she now controlled was new, but yet it wasn't, somewhere inside her a primeval instinct forced her to get on her knees. The snow fell from her back and front as she slowly moved, her stomach, breasts and back felt the bite of the frosty wind against them, the pines whispered their encouragement to the naked gal in distress, urging her not to die, to fight. Sparkle complied, her shivering frame got up, her legs shook and her arms trembled, she fought a losing battle to remain standing. But how could she? How could she do it when it was something so strange? So different? Twilight fell, the wind defeating her and the snow claiming her once more. It would be her grave, her final resting place. No, she would fight on. Her body felt the frostbite, the cold whip as it struck her over and over again, her limbs and flesh screamed with every touch, with every brush of the snow, but she would not relent. She was not going to die there, for she had so much to do, so much to see, so much to learn. Our unfortunate Twilight got to her knees and moved forward, like a beast, like an animal she crawled. It was a familiar yet uncomfortable means of movement, she remembered the motions but felt awkward and out of place as she performed the mundane ritual of walking on all fours. The trees cheered her on in that quiet way of theirs. The shadows of the pines looming over her, trying to shield her from the snow, urging her to never give up, to fight on and live, to escape the frozen lands to which they had gotten accustomed out of need. Sparkle had no hope however. You, dear reader, know this, I know it as well, she was weak and naked, her flesh weakening with every snowflake that brushed against it. So how could she survive? She was a lost soul, ready to die and leave the realm of existence. Her hands moved through the cold snow, being dragged on by sheer force of will, her energy was depleted, she would last no longer than a few moments. She knew this, you know this, and I do too, so why lie to ourselves? Why carry on telling of Twilight's fate? What purpose does it serve? Sparkle smiled faintly, her jaw shivering wildly and her eyes unable to drop the frozen tears that tried to crawl out of the corners of her saddened eyes, sad for her death, sad for never being able to see her friends and family again, her teacher and second mother, her assistant and brother, her hometown, her current residence, the fair plains outside of Ponyville. Twilight Sparkle decided to not drag the pain any further, her vision was blurred and she could no longer feel her legs. So why suffer any more? It would be best to lay down and die, to enjoy the fleeting pain as it made way for the afterlife. At least she knew her life had been a good one, she could die happy knowing she had made good friends, knowing her life had a purpose and it had been achieved, knowing she left no unattended issues, that her family was proud of her. Twilight lowered her head on the snow, it bit down on her cheek and made her grimace, but it made little difference anymore, she could not feel over half of her body, she did not mind a little more pain. She extended a hand forward, wanting to feel the touch of a pine or a rock. Anything but the bitter snow that pierced her flesh and mind, any other texture, no matter how rough, how sharp or mossy, would be welcomed warmly, that is, if she had any more warmth to give. She would have sighed but her breath was caught in her frozen throat, she found nothing other than snow. Her fingers dug into it and searched with what little strength they had for anything, but the land mocked her and enjoyed her pains. Snow as far as her hand could reach. Magic? Perhaps, if she still had her horn, but no, the new body was strange, unusual and alien for her. The snow blurred her mind as well, no coherent thought could be formed in the barren ice land that her brain was by then. Her pride and joy, frozen beyond rational thought, her jewel and hope, her final weapon and line of defense, gone. Twilight Sparkle, protege of royalty itself, the epitome of magic, leader of the most powerful team in Equestria, and unfortunate victim of the cold blizzards of a savage land, a fearsome territory, a land not meant for her kind. The land was for the strong, the brave and powerful, such a land was meant to be fought over, it was meant to die and kill for. Such a land could be no other than the mighty expanse of Minecraftia, epitome of freedom and danger, land of opportunity and death for the inexperienced. Play your cards well and the land will treat you to its pleasures and fruits, take one wrong step, and you'll find yourself coughing up blood and begging for death. Such is the life for us, Snow walkers, sons of the blizzard, fighters of the cold. We will outlast them all and slaughter those who remain, we live off the land and defend it with our lives, those who oppose us shall meet their deaths at the point of our spears, at the tip of our swords and the flint of our arrows! For we are the true sons of the land! We are those who feel the frostbite and laugh! We stare down the other tribes and meet them in the middle of the battlefield, with a spear on our hands and a shout of defiance in our throats!