Burrow. Don’t laugh at it; the actual name of the town was Burrow. It was your average, usual backwater town that lived, and traded, off of hunting and mining for relics and ores. It was a usual winter morning in Burrow, and I was going to be tending to the forge at Steele’s Steel, a weapons store which opened itself to travellers, guards, and other ponies alike; was even a forgery just next to it, which Steele also owned. At the moment, however, I was at home, just waking up from my slumber.
My room consisted of many things; a bed for me to sleep on, a night stand next to that, with a red coated book lying on top. A bookcase, filled with several other books, coloured in different coloured coats such as blue, green, black, stood firmly by the window. A mirror, made out of glass and wood, was placed on the wall next to the door. Lastly, there was the small table with a candle on it; the candle being blown out to prevent a fire breaking loose.
My bed was made out of wood and furs, which was what many of the beds were made out of during these times. It might not have looked like it, but we hunted for money, and traded the goods we made, mostly the meat, to other cannibalistic groups or groups that actually needed the meat to live. Out of those groups, our main customers were Griffons, who rarely passed through earth pony territory, on their way to their shrine high up in the mountains to the north. Griffons come from the south, but at young ages they make a pilgrimage to their shrine; that happened once every year, but at least they carry enough money with them.
Looking in the mirror, I started to take in the features of my every morning face. Dark, almost murky, green coloured coat, brightly coloured ocean blue eyes, long flowing chocolate brown mane, which was braided in several areas, and lastly was my horn that sat on top of my head. Unicorns weren’t accepted in earth pony territory that much; half of the earth ponies downright hated us for the advances we had in sorcery and magic. If anything, they should hate the pegasi as well. Aside from us being magical, and the earth ponies being stronger, the pegasi are more of a militaristic race of pony. Nestling high in the sky to the east, these pegasi ponies would endlessly recruit other pegasi into their armies, making them even stronger. Whilst they may look tough, it doesn’t take more than an Ursa Minor to scare the living daylights out of them.
I was dressed appropriately for the occasion; a tattered grey shirt with a few patches of different coloured fabric. That’s what happens; when you live in a backwater town, you really can’t get much from here. Most of the clothes are tattered, torn, and burnt here. It was, as we’d put it, life here; it wasn’t perfect, but it beats being out in the wild.
Everything was ready. I was ready to begin the day as usual; go to the forge, work, go on lunch break, go back to work, go to the Inn for some cider, and then return home for some sleep. Turning towards the door and walking towards it, I placed one of my hooves onto a piece of the woodwork, pushing it open with little strength required. The outside, when the door fully opened, was covered in a thick blanket of snow. Little fillies and colts, all of the earth pony race, played around in the snow, throwing snowballs and making snow angels in the snow; much to the fact that the town might be attacked by bandits, these children just played like they didn’t even have a care in the world.
“Morning Malik,” one of the guard ponies, a tall hulky earth pony clad in steel armour, sword sheathed by his side, greeted walking past on the usual routine. I only replied with a nod back to the guard, telling him to ‘watch himself out here.’
The forge was literally down the road. Half of the forge, which was the actual forge, was made up out of stone and wood, whereas the house next to it, which was where the owner slept and sold weaponry, was made completely out of wood with a straw roof and stone foundation. From the looks of things, Steele was already up and starting to work on today’s weaponry. So far, from a distance, it seemed that the older earth pony stallion was already at work at the forge.
Steele was one of the village’s most trusted members, and is also a member of the small council our mayor put together long before my father immigrated to these parts. Steele’s coat was dark grey, clearly pointing out his greying mane and tail; and, from examining his flank, his cutie mark resembled a forger’s hammer crossed with a sickle.
I hate to say this, but I don’t actually have my cutie mark; astonishing, right? Twenty-one years old and I still haven’t gotten my cutie mark, what a life of sorrow it must’ve bought to me, right? Wrong. Not having a cutie mark meant that I could go down whatever path I wanted; and, in my family, there were two ways. Being a barmaid like my mother, or an alchemist like my father.
Soon as I reached the wooden stairs to the forge, Steele stopped hammering on a heated blade, turning attention towards me. “Malik, glad to see you’re awake,” Steele greeted, watching me carefully with his dark gold eyes. Steele put a hoof on my shoulder, pulling me closer and closer to the forge, “didn’t think you’d actually show up today; where in the world have you been?”
I chuckled, “I woke up a bit late, Steele; when am I ever late?” I replied, forcing myself to get out of the earth ponies embrace. Earth ponies were strong, so their grip on something proved a challenge. “Hey, um, Steele; do me a favour, please let me go,” I asked, starting to choke a bit from the grey earth pony stallion’s grip. Old or not, he was a strong and stubborn old coot.
Steele loosened his grip, not entirely letting go of me. “By the gods, Malik, you seem a bit…off today. Anything troubling you?” I shook my head. “Are you sure? You know you can trust me with anything, right?”
“Yes, Steele,” I responded. “And, I assure you, it’s nothing, really.”
Steele nodded in conformation, “well, I suggest I’d better let you get to work. The forge is yours, Malik,” Steele said as he began to trot away from the forge, leaving me to do my daily business. “Oh, and Malik, remember to direct any customers that need extra compensation. Such as the usual guards, mercenaries, or kinsponies of the earth pony kingdom.”
I nodded, “I know, master; just the usual drill.” I replied, moving my hooves to rest upon the flat surface of the wooden table, which stood in the corner of the room not too far off from the wall. Several tools were laid out on the wooden, splintered table; including a forging hammer, massive forceps to move pieces of molten steel from one place to another, and some engraving tools in case somepony wanted a name or something engraved into the sword; it can even be a pattern, to make the sword more unique to their character.
Steele disappeared to the inside of the shop, turning the closed sign to open with his hoof. This meant that I should get to work in producing weapons for Steele to sell tomorrow, or even today. With no time to dawdle, I set my magic to work. Now, with unicorns, we could hold objects in two ways; with our hooves, or with our levitation spells. Over my levitation abilities, I chose to handle crafting of swords with my hooves; so that I could actually set myself a challenge.
As I began to ready myself for another day of forging, I looked over to the entrance to Burrow; looking at a passing patrol of earth pony kinsponies from Winterfell, the earth pony capitol city in the western hills, overlooking most of the landscape. Earth ponies were known for their brutality in battle, and their advantage from using the mountains gave them an upper hoof in battle.
But the biggest mountain of them all, shrouding its surrounding area in complete shadow, was Misty Mountain. A complete mystery, that mountain is. I overheard tales in the inn, from travelling ponies that the mountain is home to the Palace of the Alicorns, which were the first race to exist in Equestria in the first place. No one knows what happens up there, and to put it quite frank nopony really cares so much about what happens. Some tales were about a secret cult of vamponies planning to shroud the world in darkness, or a pack of vicious wereponies plotting to slaughter everypony in Equestria.
Those were all old pony tales to me. Ignoring those thoughts of Misty Mountain, I started to smash the hammer off of a molten sword.
…Meanwhile…
Sacrament. Sacrament was the name of an earth pony war hero from the Battle of Winterfell ten years ago. Sacrament was believed to have been killed long ago by bandits. Sacrament was, surprisingly, alive. Standing under a shroud of frosty trees, an old, not too old, earth pony stallion was sitting down, eyes closed, meditating. His coat shone a deep brown colour, whilst his mane, which was tied up, and his tail stayed a dark jet black with bands of white. The earth pony was clad in a dark tan coloured set of leather armour, and over that was a black fur pelt, with several golden trinkets dotted on it.
In a sheath by his side, was his sword. A sword which was made entirely of steel, and crafted for only the most skilful of swordsponies; light, versatile, and quick as a flash, the sword could bring even the biggest of enemies down. The pony’s eyes were shut, focusing heavily on his breathing and mental state. Meditating was one of the many ways in which the earth ponies, and pegasi, could connect to the spirit world; a place where everypony, after death, is taken to in order to live out an eternity of peace.
“Sacrament,” croaked an old, raspy voice from behind. The earth pony, known as Sacrament, broke from his concentration, opening hi eyes to reveal nothing but dark green irises. Bringing himself to all fours, the earth pony turned around to face the new speaker. Behind him, clad in dark navy blue robes, was an old unicorn. The unicorn was shorter that the earth pony, and possessed a wrinkled grey coat, completely greyed out mane and tail, complete with a matching coloured beard, and lastly a pair of completely light brown eyes. The unicorn’s horn was showing signs of old age, which could be seen by almost anypony; especially from afar. The unicorn spoke again, “the party is awake. We require you to finish our recruitment with the last pony.”
“Calm yourself, Dawnstar,” Sacrament replied, moving towards the older unicorn’s side. Dawnstar, the unicorn, was not an average unicorn; he was a drenmar unicorn. These drenmar were ponies which could live to they’re three thousand years old, even in some cases they can live until they’re a bit older. The drenmar come from their homes in the outer parts of Equestria, most of them being unicorns like Dawnstar. “Our recruitment journey is close to an end; all we need is the final piece of the puzzle.”
“But will this Steele pony actually sign on with us, Sacrament?” Dawnstar asked, informing Sacrament about the other possible outcome with the recruitment. “What if he denies coming with us, what will we do then?”
“That won’t happen, Dawnstar,” Sacrament retorted, turning all attention onto the smaller unicorn. “I’ve known Steele for the past few years, he still owes me a favour, and this is what I’m using that favour he owes on. He can’t deny, me,” Sacrament chuckled, “I’m one of the most reliable ponies he’s ever met.”
Dawnstar took the information into consideration, then nodded, “understandable, Sacrament.” Dawnstar agreed, continuing to walk back to the campsite where the other ponies were. “So, what’s the plan?”
Sacrament laughed, “Plan? There’s no real plan, Dawnstar. All I’m going to do is waltz into his room, then tell him to come with us; might even have him sharpen my blade whilst I’m there,” Sacrament added, pulling out his sword with his hoof and using it to slash at the air. “Old girl’s getting a bit blunt.” Sacrament mentioned, sheathing his sword back into the sheath.
“Where will we meet you?” Dawnstar asked.
Sacrament pointed to the town wall, which stretched from where it started, at the base of a small mountain, to the edge of the river. “Meet me at that wall, by then Steele would’ve given us his answer. For the time that I am gone, have Bolter secure the perimeter; I don’t want us to get jumped like we did last time.” Sacrament ordered, referring to the last time he entrusted somepony to stand guard, only to fall asleep and have Bolter keep their flanks safe at night. “I trust Bolter to keep you all safe, unlike the last pony I trusted to keep us safe at night.”
“Agreed, Sacrament,” Dawnstar replied, nodding to the earth pony stallion. “Have a safe trip to Burrow.” Dawnstar said before turning around and walking into the middle of the camp, leaving Sacrament to travel by himself. Back before he formed this party, Sacrament travelled alone, but to do it now, after so many years of being around other ponies, Sacrament started to feel a bit odd with the fact that he was entrusted to travel by himself.
Sacrament looked back to the old unicorn pony, seeing his navy blue robes fade into the treeline. With a sigh of loneliness, Sacrament turned to begin his journey to Burrow. Sacrament trekked down the frosty path, not looking back at the camp he left behind.
…30 Minutes Later…
I bought the hammer down again and again on the molten blade, trying to bend the molten blade of the sword into the correct shape. It was hard, half the time; to properly bend the sword into the exact shape needed to make it effective in battle. The wrong strike of the hammer, and the blade could still be in the right shape, but would be less effective in battle, marking it unreliable for use. But, with the methods Steele taught me, I rarely made a mistake with hitting the wrong part of the blade.
After constantly hitting the hammer off of the blade, I used my levitation ability to lift the molten blade and dunk the heated part in the bucket of water by the side of the metal table. Soon as the sword was completely submerged in water, the air around the forge was filled with the sizzling sound of hot metal touching cold water. Across the village, little fillies and little colts carried on playing through the streets, amusing some of the passers-by. Some of the smaller foals, ones looking aged five or six, looked in awe at the gentle snow falling to the ground from the sky.
Those days where I, as a young colt living with my mother, would gaze out to the roads of Burrow, on an evening just to see how beautiful the snow was when it fell. Nowadays, the snow at night comes harsh, resulting in massive snow storms across the land. “Malik,” the voice of my master called, immediately telling me to lift up my head to see what the old earth pony wanted. The older pony was standing in the doorway of the open forge, his coat covered by a coat made out of the fur of a wolf, to keep himself warm. “I’m going to see if everything is set for tonight, Mal; be sure to keep the forge, and the store, safe. Okay?” Steele asked, only receiving a nod from me.
Accepting the nod, Steele turned and trotted down the wooden stairs to the cold hard ground of the stone road. It didn’t take long for him to disappear out of my line of sight; after all I was, after Steele left, beginning to get back on track with the forging. My mind pondered into thought, thinking about what Steele was on about when he said ‘I’m going to see if everything is set for tonight.’
“Excuse me,” grunted an older voice from behind, snapping me out of my little thought trance and snapping me out of my work task. Grunting myself, I turned around, only to see yet another earth pony. His coat was covered by a suit of dark tan leather armour, but through the breaks in its design, which there were many of, I saw traces of a dark brown coat. Over the leather armour was a black wolf pelt, with several golden trinkets dotted on it. His mane, which was tied up, shone a black colour with bands of white. His tail had the same colour as his mane, but wasn’t styled in the same way. The eyes of the pony were a dark green colour, and by his side, covered by a sheath, was a sword. The pony walked further up the stairs, walking into the dim warmth of the forge; “is there a pony by the name of Steele, here?”
I shook my head, “Steele went to check up on something. I’d imagine he’d be back soon, though.” I replied, hammering the sword into place as I turned to face the metal table. “Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?”
The pony chuckled, “please, call me Sacrament; sir makes me feel old.” The pony, who introduced himself as Sacrament, bought his sheathed sword up to the table. “And yes, you can. I need my blade sharpened; being out all over Equestria has made her a wee bit blunt.”
I took the sword out, seeing the several cracks and the bluntness of the blade. From what it looked like, it seemed to be a fine blade before Sacrament used it to bang against a wall or something. “Gods,” I exclaimed, “What have you been doing with this? Banging it off a wall, or something?” I snapped, making Sacrament chuckle. Soon after, the chuckling turned into a small fit of laughter. After he finished, I moved myself over to the grindstone. “The sharpening of a blade, in this condition, would take around one hundred bits to restore it to fine condition.”
Sacrament sat by the side of me, staring down into my eyes; “no, I’ve been slaying creatures to ensure my safety. Now,” he said, pulling out a small tan bag, “will one hundred and fifty bits make you shut up and get to work?”
I took the bag in my aura, “yes.”
“Good.” Sacrament deadpanned, taking back the bag and tossing the bag of bits on the wooden table to the side. Immediately, after setting the sheath down on the floor, I place myself on the seat of the grindstone. Putting one of my back hooves on a small pedal, I placed the blade on the round stone, blade pointing at a small pane of grass just barely visible due to the snow. Pressing down on the pedal, the round stone started to roll. “Winter is fast approaching; especially up in these areas.” Sacrament noted.
I ignored his irrelevant comment, focusing on sharpening the blade. Out of the first thirty seconds of use, the blade was beginning to shape up nicely. The blade was still dull in some places, but it should only take a few more turns of the grindstone for it to be actually finished. “So, what’s your business with Steele?”
“What’s it to you?” Sacrament snapped.
I chuckled, still focusing on the blade; “not much. Just asking what you want to see my master about is all.”
“Master?”
I nodded, “eeyup. He taught me how to work a forge over the past…eleven years.” I added, much to the earth pony’s surprise.
“You ever have a family?” Sacrament asked, his questions starting to get a bit too personal.
I stopped the grindstone, “listen, we’ve only just met. I’m not in the mood to trade life stories with some pony I have only known for less than five minutes,” I snapped, levitating the sheath and sword up in the air. Smoothly and gently, I used my magic to sheath the earth pony’s now sharp sword. I passed it back to Sacrament, who immediately took it and placed it where it belonged; at his side.
“Thanks.” Sacrament thanked, turning away from the forge. “I’m going to be outside the door of the store, waiting for Steele. Don’t bother me.”
I nodded, hammering another sword into place. “Wouldn’t dream on it, pal.”