//------------------------------//
// A True Home 
// Story: My Son, My Soldier, My Hero 
// by That_Random_Pony 
//------------------------------//


Draco stepped into an enormous chamber, a chamber that looked as though it stretched on for miles. Inside, a vast and misty forest stretched out until his vision could no longer follow, but he could feel it went further. The smell… it was familiar… embracing… exhilarating. The urge he had suppressed since he was a boy, the nagging itch that begged him to leap and climb and fall and repeat, rose up stronger than ever before. His breathing was easier, his muscles felt more challenged, and his mind felt ready to accept. This… this wasn't just any forest.

These were Loki'irian trees. Loki'irian soil.

"We wanted to take a piece of our homes into the stars," Jerosh explained. "So we may never forget our home."

Draco nodded softly, his legs and arms barely restrained. Fermot laughed as he stood beside his youngest brother. "Jro gurt nurk ot weq dur jre, eluch (You don't have to wait for us, brother)" 

The three of them left him in the dust as they took off into the trees, leaping into the high branches and leaving his sight. Draco followed instantly, trying to keep up with them. He grabbed onto a branch and swung higher, latching onto another limb and leaping forward. He was careful to not slip off, as the limbs were going higher and higher as he went. And the more he tried latching on, the more and more he slipped. He hit a couple of branches, but was able to adjust and keep going. But it was exhausting, and he still hadn't gone as high as his brothers. He could see the enormous branches above him, bigger than the halls in the castle. But there weren't any breaks in the bark for him to grip. He really was the younger brother, inexperienced in his own environment. His brothers had slowed, none of them showing any signs of struggle or fatigue. 

"Let go, Reku'un. This isn't some test. This is our home. Your instincts are the only thing that can help you through this," Jaqeluu said. "That is what makes us Loki'irian. We don't need to think. We just need to do." 

Draco stopped and panted as his brothers went on ahead. Their scents faded quickly as they leaped on, leaving Draco to think over Jaqeluu's words. He took a deep breath, inhaling the various Loki'irian smells of nature that were multiplied by his nose, then slowly exhaled, closing his eyes and tuning out from his other thoughts. The area around him felt as if it were fading away… and at the same time it was embracing him. Calling to him… no… it called to his instincts. The true Loki'irian hidden beneath the Equestrian facade. The more he fought it, the more it would urge him, but the more he embraced it, the more alive he felt. 

You've grown knowing nothing of our planet. The beautiful forests… the crystal clear oceans… the magnificently blue skies. You've known buildings and homes of brick, hay, wood, and other creations. But you've forgotten who we truly are.

Draco could hear his beating heart. It pumped faster, and faster, all while his mind filtered only certain memories. The memories of a falling Loki'ir. But he manipulated the images, turning the burning trees into swaying ones, the monsters replaced by tall grass fields, the ships morphed into dragons, and the blood turned to the massive amounts of dew. He could see the face of his father… the face of his true mother. It all welled up in his head… and it unlocked something he had never known. 

His eyes snapped open, his mind only focusing on the here and now. His legs coiled in, and he sprung forward, high into the canopy to reach the branches only the true Loki'irians dared to use. Once there, he leaped again, landing on one foot instead of two and propelling himself forward. Each leap sent him farther and farther, but he always landed and launched perfectly. His adrenaline built up quickly, his energy reserves making themselves known as they crawled out from opening in his body. There was nothing stopping him, nothing holding him back.

He felt free.

Free of the pony culture.

Free of the glares the nobles shot him.

This was normal. This was normal. Leaping like some sort of animal. But it all hit him. The trees were in a very familiar pattern, and the sudden breaks in foliage were no mistake or strange growth. 

They were planted like buildings. The branches were his street, and the trees themselves were homes. It all came to him at last. Pony culture had rooted into him from the moment he could talk, but it would never undermine the natural awareness of his own kind. This was a city. A city within a ship.

And Draco spotted the point of each of his brothers energies. Leaping swiftly, he reached the enormous tree that rose above the rest, and he scaled it. It wasn't long before he was swinging from the smaller branches protruding from the trunk and landing on the thicker ones. The top had a carving of a threshold, and he would have missed it if it wasn't where he latched on. The instinctual hype died down, and he walked in slowly. His four brothers stood in line, a fifth hooded figure standing beside Jerosh. The man removed his hood, and Draco gasped softly.

"There is only one person as ferocious as Derekosh," Fermot smiled. 

"And it will always be me, little brother," Derekosh chuckled.

Draco wasn't sure what to say, as he was confused, relieved, and stunned all at once. It was the first of many feelings that would bring them close, as a family of survivors. For they would need each other, no matter the trials ahead and no matter who had to face them. And so, Draco felt his first tear for a brother fall, and Derekosh came close and hugged him. It was strange at first, feeling this savage warrior embracing him gently, as if he were a scared child. But to them, he sort of was. Not scared, but horribly lost when it came to their culture. It was why he could not feel sympathy or love for them, aside from not knowing them while he grew up. But, eventually, his arms moved up to his older brother, and he silently cried into his chest.

"But… you… I got you—" Jaqeluu silenced him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

"My fourth rite is the ability to transport objects and beings short distances," he chuckled. "I simply moved them to the maintenance room of the cannon when it fired."

"I nearly went deaf, I might add," Derekosh snorted amusedly. "It's alright, Reku'un. You know what father told each of us when we came crying?"

Draco couldn't form words, only look up and shake his head.

Derekosh smiled and flicked a tear with his rites. " ‘Crying solves nothing. Face what you must with those closest to you. Your brothers, most importantly, must stand by you.’ We each helped one another. And now, it's time you join us in that oath." He stood back, lighting the candles with a few quick blasts of energy. 

The inside of the free was beautiful. Everything was hand-made, from the ceiling to the floor. The Loki'irian home was made of natural things, mostly wood and stronger-than-steel mud. The soil of Loki'ir was firm but yielding, however, when packed and wet and dried it was stronger than most Equestrian metals. There were many things made of furs of native Loki'irian animals, gems only found on Loki'ir, and even a few stone objects. It reminded him of the dragon mountains, which made sense because of their close origins. 

"Before we train you to your fullest, you'll live as we did," Jerosh explained. "Wake up, communicate with the various families aboard, train or play with the other children your age, eat, and come back to the Okono to speak with us and sleep. We shall only speak Neric, daketo? (understand?)"

Draco nodded, looking out into the forest he had recently ventured through. "Dra (Yes)" He nodded. "Ig… olt'e kot tunger (So… let's get started)"