//------------------------------// // Chapter One: Omens of Ill // Story: Armor of the Generous King // by MadNimrod //------------------------------// The rain poured on the muddy road and the unfortunate caravan traveling on it. Ten wagons, each the size of a small house, were being pulled, pushed, magicked, anything to be moved forward. The ponies and buffalo doing the work winced from the large raindrops hitting their faces, shivered from the cold, and groaned in frustration. It had only been raining for a few hours, but the rain fell fast and hard, reducing the road to a muddy mess. “Remind me,” one of the workers shouted, “why didn’t we just take the train to Canterlot?” “The trains are flooded with ponies leaving the villages close to the Dragonlands!” the foreman shouted. “Freight like this gets last priority! We’d still be back in Foalkreath if we waited for the trains!” The pony who complained shut his mouth. He wasn’t sure which was worse, trudging through the rain, or staying in a village that close to the Dragonland/Equestrian border. Normally it wouldn’t be so bad, but with current events… Everypony’s train of thought was interrupted by the sight of arrows hitting the carts. A group of bandits, mostly minotaur, came charging out of the woods. Brandishing their weapons, they gave a roar as they charged at the caravan. Most of the ponies fled behind the carts to hide from the bandits, but a good number stayed behind. The minotaur grinned, expecting easy kills, until the five in front of the band burst into flames. When these five scattered, all the others saw the ponies who stayed remove their cloaks, revealing the gold armor of the Royal Guard. The minotaur’s advance slowed, but most of them still felt they had a chance against the smaller ponies. The Guard stood their ground as their unicorns fired blasts of magic at the oncoming band, and when the minotaur got close enough, the Earth Pony knights charged forward, sending the minotaur flying back. Any minotaur that was able to stagger to their feet either fled at that point or fell over dead from the unicorn’s blasts. The whole battle, if it could be called that, lasted less than two minutes. No ponies had even been injured, but more than half the minotaur bandits lay dead in the mud. All the non-guard ponies and buffalo were speechless. They had no idea that some of the ponies working with them were Royal Guard. Before anypony could say anything, the guards donned their cloaks and got back to work moving the carts. “Let’s move out!” one of the guards hollered. “Don’t need anypony else trying to raid us!” As the ponies got to work, the guards were relieved they had succeeded in protecting this cargo. Among the boxes, hidden deep inside one of the carts, was a certain relic that Celestia wanted in Canterlot without anypony else knowing it even existed. Maid Firemane hobbled down the hall of the Shetland Palace. It was way too late at night for the Princess to be doing this, and she was too old to be doing this at all. The Nurse was almost ninety, and had been the Princess’ Maid for almost seventy of those years. One would think seven decades would be ample time to get used to the Princess’ weird- “Aw, you found me!” a chipper voice called from the ceiling. Firemane looked up and saw a tall Pegasus with a fiery-red coat and dark green mane. As she descended, Firemane could clearly see the long unicorn horn the princess inherited from her mother and the deep blue eyes she inherited from her father. Her cutie mark was a reddish-orange droplet in front of a single gear, crossed with twin flowers. The elderly earth pony maid chuckled. “I wouldn’t have if you didn’t shout, your Highness.” The Princess clicked her tongue. “I did not shout.” “Yes you did,” a mature female voice said from behind the alicorn princess. Firemane immediately bowed and the princess turned and looked up at the voice. She stared right into the blue eyes of Malice, the Princess of War. “H-hello, Mother.” “Amber,” Malice growled, “why are you up and making noise this late at night?” “I-I was playing with Firemane,” Princess Amber replied. Malice narrowed her eyes. “At one in the morning?” Malice gave a sigh. “Amber, I’ve had a rough few weeks. Could you please just go back to bed? You’re almost two hundred years old, you should know better than to go screaming down the hall this late at night.” “B-but I wasn’t scre-” “Amber.” Malice stared at her daughter with baggy eyes until the younger princess relented. “Okay,” Amber bowed her head. “Sorry, Mother.” “Apologies accepted,” Malice said while poking Amber’s cheek. “Now, get to bed. I’ll be taking you with me to the Council meeting in a few days, and I want you to be rested when we leave.” As Amber walked away, Malice looked down at Firemane and said, “Sorry about that.” The scarlet-maned earth pony chuckled. “It’s alright, Your Highness. She’s a good lass.” “She’s got a good head, and a kind heart…I just wish she inherited some of her father’s temperance. When I was her age, I was already working with Tia and Lulu to form the continents.” “She’s just a Princess who was raised in a peaceful time,” Firemane smiled. “With you as her mother, and Lord Watson as her father, she will grow to be a fine Princess.” Malice stood for a bit before smiling at the elderly pony. “Thank you, Firemane. Go rest now. We’ve got a long week ahead of us.” The two ponies went their separate ways, and Malice returned to her bedroom. It had changed a little during the past two hundred years. Some of her pointier decorations had been replaced with innocent knick-knacks, there were fold-up stools folded in a corner, and sleeping in the bed was a small, graying unicorn stallion. Malice smiled as she lay down next to him. His mane was less-spiky than it was in the past, and had grey streaks in it, and his face was a little wrinkly, but Malice still saw the small, cute stallion who had won her heart back when the Shetlands, nay the world, was in peril from her traitorous General. She still remembered the massive and wonderful reaction her people had when they learned she would be wedding him, and the bigger reaction when it was discovered she was with foal. The past two hundred years had been joyful for them both. The Princess of War stretched her forelegs out and pulled her sleeping husband close. He had only recently recovered from some tragic events, and now the current crisis weighed heavily on him. Malice’s greatest wish was for this crisis to pass, all so she, her husband and their beloved daughter could live in peace… Flare stood on the castle wall, waiting for the messenger sent out earlier that week. His Paladin armor covered his pale-blue coat just enough to keep him warm, and thankfully didn’t hinder his wings. His curly blue mane was covered by his Paladin helmet, and his left eye scanned the horizon for the coming Pegasus. His right eye was staring down at the floor. His lazy eye had almost prevented him from joining the Paladins, but his other skills more than compensated for his eye. And with what was happening now, his skills were greatly needed. Few ponies, in-and-outside of the Paladins, had seen what he was capable of, but everypony could tell his cutie mark was of a dragons’ head in front of a shield for a reason. After an hour of waiting, just as the sun set, a speck appeared on the horizon. In almost no time at all, a cyan blur slammed onto the wall next to Flare. The Paladin turned and looked at the younger Paladin, a cyan Pegasus who looked almost exactly like his great-grandmother. The Pegasus, without saying a word, reached into his dispatch bag and handed a scroll to Flare. Flare took it and read it. He grimaced at the news. “Go rest, Chaser,” he ordered his subordinate. “I will pass this to Celestia.” As the cyan Pegasus walked to the barracks, Flare flew to the great hall and awaited the return of Princess Celestia. The news he bore was grim, and he wished it wasn’t true. The Ironwing Clan had refused to come to the Council meeting. Just like the Sandfangs, and the Coralwings, and the Firemark. Less than half of the most influential dragon clans would be present at the meeting. Without those voices, Flare had a feeling the peace talks would fail. Flare turned and looked at the setting sun, which turned the sky pink and red, and he suddenly got the feeling he would see those colors on the earth sometime soon.