“Hop on.” Storyteller motioned for me to climb into a wooden cart.
“You want me.” I cringed in disgust, “to get into a cart to cross what you called the ‘Salt Flats.’” It was annoying to be forced to walk, but to add insult to injury to being forced to ride in a cart.
“Because I made the mistake of leading someone through the Salt Flats before on foot. The Badlands, as you have already found out, is not exactly kind to those that are unprepared. The dangers are less than they were before... at least when it comes from moving ‘objects’… The Salt Flats are, and have always been, the most dangerous part especially for those who can’t fly.”
“This is so demeaning…” I muttered to myself as I climbed in the back. At least the cart was clean looking. There was a bit of sand in the crevices but given the desert surroundings that wasn’t surprising.
“Well...” Storyteller dragged out the ‘well’ way more then I liked as he put the back of the cart back on, “until you can overcome the chaotic leyonic magic you are doing nothing but staying in the cart until we get to the other side.”
I watched as again Storyteller stopped, hooved(?) the ground, then changed directions. He seems lost and yet at the same there was an odd purpose for his movements. This makes no sense! I was not about to call him out for it just yet so I went back to staring at the cloudless sky.
Out of boredom I idly pulled out my compass. Not that it would help in this situation. I really should have brought a real compass and not relied on a pegasus natural sense of direction. The needle was again steadily pointing in a single direction. Right at Storyteller. What did he do with it!?
“What did you do with my compass?” I grumbled as I shook the compass in my frustration.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing my flank!” I snapped. I held out my compass for emphasis. “When I left the shack, mansion, building, magic thingy, home of yours it started pointing to your home. It’s never did anything but idly spin. Now,” I growled, “Now it’s pointing in your direction.”
“Doubtful... it’s probably pointing the way through the Salt Flats.”
A brilliant flash of light temporarily blinded me, and once I was able to see again I could no longer see Storyteller. Great… this guy must get a thrill...
“I’m behind you History Seeker.” I nearly jumped and dropped my compass. I looked behind me to see that Storyteller was behind the cart. With a grumble I picked up my compass. It was still pointing in the same direction as before, in the direction where Storyteller was earlier.
“What is with this thing!?” I muttered.
“I guess I could show you…” Show me what!? “Wait here and watch. No matter what happens stay in the cart.” Storyteller ordered. I was sure I heard a slight hint of fear in his voice, enough to make me to not want to even think of disobeying.
Storyteller walked away from the cart a good distance. I could hear the sounds of something cracking, like ice or glass. Suddenly, the ground beneath him gave out. “Storyteller!” I screamed. It took all of my mental strength not to attempt a rescue. The air became thick with swirling sand blocking from my sight the last place I saw him. I shook in fright as I heard the creaks and groans of the collapsing ground.
“Now do you understand?”
“YEE...AHHHH!!!” I jumped nearly ten feet at the sound of Storyteller’s voice. The sand dust had yet to settle so I couldn't see where Storyteller was. “Are you crazy!” “I shouted. “I can see now the need for the cart, but what were you thinking dragging me into this DEATH TRAP!”
“Says the stallion that goes into tombs filled with death traps for a living.”
“I…” I wanted to protest but he was right. Damn it. “Good point…”
The cart began to move again. My heart started to pound. I really hope that the cart was being moved by Storyteller and not it moving on its own and into the very large hole in the ground opened up by Storyteller.
“Can you help me out with something that is confusing me?”
“Sure.” Storyteller stopped and for the millionth time that day hoofed(?) the sand. At least now I understood what he was doing and why.
“It’s all these different names and such... I’m having a bit of trouble keeping up. I mean couldn’t you just keep it just one name while telling the story. I had a hard time listening to your story yesterday when I had to remind myself that the ‘Dark One’ and the ‘Nameless One’ were the same. Or at least I think ‘Dark One’ was the same being as the ‘Nameless One.’”
“Yeah, you are correct. The ‘Nameless One’ and the ‘Dark One’ are one in the same... it can be confusing… dragons and their names and titles…”
“Let me give you a run down.”
“The ‘Nameless One’ isn’t a title nor a name. That monster,” Storyteller spat, “gets no title nor name… he is really nameless and unknown male spark dragon from the far past that attempted to destroy the world…”
Suddenly, an image of a large… massive towering mass of smoke and ash with two very large, very evil red, glowing eyes peered through it appeared in front of me. Just like from the stained glass window.I suddenly had the urge to give out a very unstallion like squeak and I involuntarily shuddered at the sight. The eyes alone were larger than my body.
Storyteller climbed into the cart next to me. As much as I really was unsure of him, his presence was comforting. “The ponies refer to him as the ‘Dark One.’”
“Why is that?”
“Huh?” I managed to pulled my sight away from the imposing visage of the dragon to look at Storyteller who was looking down at me expectantly. I stared back at him with a look that said: Like I would have a clue. “How should I know?”.
“Nightmare Moon a Nightmare possessed the alicorn mare also known as Luna and was obsessed with making the night eternal. King Sombra known as the shadow king. He used shadows and dark crystal magic to enslave the crystal ponies of the Crystal Empire. Then of course changelings. Parasitic shapeshifting pony insects that remain in the shadows stealing love.”
“Tell me what is the pattern?” Before I had much of an opportunity to think much less answer Storyteller answered his own question. “All of it dealing with shadows and darkness...”
“‘Chaos Bringer’ is the name that the chimeras have for him.”
“Over three hundred thousand years ago about five years after Discord’s, the Chimera Keeper of Harmony, ‘birth’ something happened in Hourglass City. Something terrible... every sentient being in the city except Discord wiped out in one moment. Hourglass City at the time was the center of Chimera and Draconequus culture and civilization. This caused massive repercussions… the Chimeras became scattered and disenfranchised, forever afraid of congregating in anything but small groups for fear of it happening again.”
“Then, of course, Discord’s period of grief induced madness where he turned Equestria into a chaotic circus freak show. Dancing buffalo wearing tutus, checkerboard patterned grass, cotton candy clouds that rain chocolate milk, and so forth.”
“So are you saying that this nameless evil dragons ‘titles’ are related to whatever evil plagues that race?”
“The titles predate the evils. They are more like prophecies…” Storyteller gazed up towards the sky. “I think I’ll have to tell you the rest as we go along… The sun is getting a bit low in the sky and we still have a ways to go.”
So he’s told me two… but he hasn’t said anything one the meaning behind ‘Nameless One.’ “What about the ‘Nameless One?’”
Storyteller was quiet for a while before he finally answered me. “A dragon’s whole identity is tied to their name… mess with that and make a name meaningless…”
“Does that help?” Storyteller bent low and from what I could see was reading the ground a bit more then usual. This had happened a couple of times before it’s possible he was having issues finding a safe path… Though, somehow, I don’t think even being on the ‘safe path’ is safe.
“At least in one part…”
“Ah,” Storyteller head snapped up suddenly, “it’s also the other dragons… Okay… In order of joining the clan.”
“First, we have He of Hourglass.” An image of a purple and green bipedal dragon began walking next to the cart. Strange multicolored sparks seemed to be emanating from his body. “His name before choosing was Spike. He also has the title of Firstclaw being that he is the first dragon of the Hourglass Clan and the leader of the clan. He also is the Dragon Keeper of Harmony usually shortened to Dragon Keeper.”
“Next we have Quartermaster.” My jaw gaped at the size of the red and orange quadrupedal dragon. Just like with the image of the ‘Dark One’ the eyes were larger than my body. “Like all males in the clan you could call him He of Hourglass... sort of. There is subtle differences in how you speak He of Hourglass that indicates which dragon being spoken about... As you can recall at the start of the story before Sentinel got his title how he cringed at his name being mispronounced.”
“He of Music...interesting case.” A white and blue dragon about twice as big as Storyteller shimmered into existence taking the place of Quartermaster. A large, metal scorpion thing was hanging from a chain around his neck and a bass guitar was strapped to his back. “He of usually followed by a territory name or landmark… He of Music very, very rarely uses He of Hourglass… Actually he did something very unusual in that he used He of Music before ever using He of Hourglass.”
“Why?”
“Because Harmonious Knight was present at his choosing and he knew that he would not be able to hear or replicate the subtleties necessary to proper address him as He of Hourglass.”
“She of Hourglass the mate of Quartermaster…” A willowy long dragon with powered blue and red scales. A small horn red horn was on the tip of her snout and she sported jet black wavy ‘hair.’ She looked quite beautiful though I have never seen a female dragon before so I don’t know how true that is. “She didn’t join the clan via choosing but by becoming the mate of Quartermaster not much to talk about there… I don’t think you really want more bedroom topics right now…”
“Medallion a chosen female dragon.” A pink quadrupedal dragon about the same size of Storyteller replaced She of Hourglass. “Quite rare. A female nearly never makes in five years as a whelp much less the twenty to twenty five years to a typical choosing.”
“Sentinel…” Storyteller sighed heavily. “Sentinel’s story is complex and difficult to unravel much less understand…” A white dragon with rainbow horns appeared that then morphed into the alicorn from the stained glass window. “Formally an alicorn…” The fur and feathers went from white to multicolor. Not only that, the colors kept shifting making it hard for me to not only see the image much less not become nauseous. His mane and tail luckily didn’t shifted color except that the mane whitened and lost all color and the tail darken to black. “He is the Secondclaw and the Alicorn Keeper. The second to join the clan but the last to Chose.”
“Twixt’d, the whelp that is treated as a clanmate, the adopted son of Quartermaster and She of Hourglass, former hatchmate of Sentinel, keep an eye on him…”
“These are the dragons that make up the Clan of Hourglass.”
“Okay, I do find that information… informative... but I’m confused on why you keep switching from using the dragon’s title to saying phrases such as ‘Sentinel's hoard name’ when a dragon is speaking to Sentinel.”
“Oh I see…” Storyteller chuckled. “Got ahead of myself... Dragon’s will use hoard names when speaking in private, but only if all in presence know each other hoard names and everyone present knows that everyone knows everydragon's hoard names…” I blinked real hard at that tongue twister. Luckily I figured it out by saying it in my mind at an extremely slow pace. “Tongue twister, I know...I’m kind of surprised I manage to say it correctly... The hoard names of the dragons are not for me to give out only the dragon himself or herself can do it... I just want you to know that they are using them.”
“While we are on this… You can tell a dragon's trust for another by how they call each other in public and in private. Dragon of insert physical disruption is the most basic form of respect when speaking to a dragon especially when the He of typically territory name or landmark is not known. The next level is referring to the dragon as a brother or sister the final step is known as name sharing. That’s when dragons share their hoard names.”
“That changes in a clan structure as in order to join, without mating of course, requires a name sharing ritual. The joining dragon and the Firstclaw of the clan roar in unison then the Firstclaw and any other dragons joining in the ritual, in order of joining, roar out their hoard names in the order of their joining. Finally the joining dragon roars his or her name for the first time which is the action required for a Choosing to take place. All in Draconian, the magical language of dragons.”
“Clan dragons are a bit different on how they show respect. They don’t call each other brother or sister out of just respect but out of love. You see a dragon loves their hoard and the clan as a whole have a collective hoard… Each other. A clan mate will look out and guard each others hoard without ever the thought of payment crossing their minds.”
“To a dragon in a clan they consider their clanmates their friends to the point of being family. Now if a clanmate wants to take that a step further they can magically become hatchmates, true family. Adult dragons don’t count blood as family but magic.”
“Better?”
“Yeah, it’s helping a little…” I admitted then something else came to mind that was similar to the name confusion I had been having. “One last thing... The word hoard has also also been confusing as you use the word ‘hoard’ to mean clearly several different things.”
“That’s because whenever you translate Draconian, or any language for that matter, it can be difficult to find words that match well… Gold for example… there are dozens of Draconian words that translate into the word ‘gold.’”
“Somehow I think I might need a cheat-cheat sheet to keep up before this story is over.” I laughed at my joke. Storyteller nodded in agreement as he laughed along with me.
Something about all this suddenly sparked a thought. A thought that I had been having for a bit now. Something in the way Storyteller spoke and carried himself seem similar. Also the way that Storyteller seemed to know a lot about dragons… specifically the dragons of Hourglass. And if what he’s saying is correct dragons tended to be private about themselves.
“You know,” I started, “I think you should add another title to the list under Sentinel: Storyteller.”
Storyteller or in this case if I’m right Sentinel stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face me fully. My smile almost dropped as I had forgotten that he was hiding behind a cloak so I would not necessarily get the reaction I would need to confirm my gut feeling. Though I could feel his eyes bore into my own.
“Am I right? You are Sentinel, aren't you?”