Crystalline: Her Destiny

by Ice Star

Chapter 5: Happily Never After

On the outskirts of the old tribal lands borders, there were two colonies of the Unicorns as different as earth and sky. The names of the lands inhabited by these were Gildentundra and Farreach Valley. Gildentundra was an even frostier waste than the Main Realms; its lesser peaks were filled with ruined fortresses, whereas its colossal peaks and frozen-wastes of everfrost were abound in ore and few in cave-towns, since there was no material for proper dwellings, or at least none that were allowed by the noble family who was rightfully appointed to rule them.

In the era preceding our Triarchy of Equestria, land governed by the Council; there was said to be no Harmony of any kind in the closed and bickering Tribes. But, alas, the pony who said that is wrong! For there was a fragile peace, even then. In the barren lands north there was the valley of Farreach, untouched by snow. This land was lacking in gems, but rich in fertility, peat, and timber. Hidden from the hateful outer world Farreach developed in a manner that made it quite modern compared to elsewhere, since there was no shortage of food. This paradise was home to both unicorn and earth pony unlike its divided and distant neighbors. Familes in Farreach were small as well, most hardly exceeding four foals. The inhabitants lived in peace while they dwelled in sod-and-peat halls dotted with wildflowers and an unknown concept at the time.

The concept of green.

Now, I shall remind you the First Apprentice—wielder of the Friendfyre; Clover the Clever—has a green mane. But, at the time of these events before her birth, ‘green’ only existed in the Farreach, the coats of pariahs, and the unknown worlds. This is why the world of Farreach, living up its name so Far from Reach, seemed like such a foal's tale when stories of it did leak out, which were few. Thus, it was dismissed as one, for what pony would put their trust in something that was not upheld by many?

Until, unbeknownst to all in the Northern Lands that worlds away in Gildentundra, this ‘foal's tale’ reached the wrong ears.
But first, Hearth-reader let us spin the tale of Gildentundra; a coarse piece of cloth indeed.

The only place in this Lordedom with dwellers was the chief state of the Gildebloode Clan and their manor, Crooked Glacier, for it overtook the mountains like the large sheets of ice.

Crooked Glacier Manor sat on a large ledge of one of the lesser peaks, overshadowed and wedged between a larger one. Below was a gutted quarry, the mines, and other useless caves, which also housed the serfs, for there was no mud or even a modest few sticks to build an abode. And, even if one could, it would have been overtaken by the snow.

The manor, however extravagant, was not a welcoming place. It was cold and dim and made out of nothing but stone, for it was the only resource to be found other than the precious metals sent back to the Main Realms. Even the furniture was made of thick stone, improved only by small wool cushions and dully dyed tapestries depicting haughty, glaring images of past lords, ladies, and their court. Due to the lack of timber nothing but a dreadful ash-spewing coal and curious varieties of flint altered by the dull magics could be burned, staining the tapestries and stone walls black. Even less welcoming was the previously mentioned location, it was one that had never known warmth.

The angle at which the manor was placed, wedged in-between two peaks, was poorly chosen for the angle ensured that the manor-dwellers would feel nothing but itchy soot and cold biting winds that were said to be fiercer than a Windigo's breath. The larger of these mountains was rich in gold ore and when, if ever, the sun poked through the artic blizzards at just the right angle, the surface pockets would gleam with such a harsh light that in the cave-towns and mine-shafts the serfs acquired a repulsive squint and poor vision.

Now the current owner of the aforementioned Gildebloode manor, with its blackened walls and gemstone mosaics, was a unicorn stallion by the name of Lord Vainblade Gildebloode, although his given name was Silver Price. Lord Vainblade, also called Silverblade, was a pony with immense greed and a simple nature. While this trait is his most prominent, others were present as well, even if some had faded from common knowledge. Although his character has survived this test his, physical description is lost to time. Vainblade, as the name implies was a shallow, vain, self-absorbed, and cruel and among others mostly known for his most noticeable trait: his greed, which was a horrifying, unquenchable, and unending force reflected well in his attire. He was garbed in the most exaggerated robes and carried the family blade, Frostseeper, only for show as well as many other jeweled baubles. Frostseeper, a jeweled hilted treasure with a blue and gold blade. Its pommel, adorned with the clan symbol - a gem replica of an Arctic Goldpath flower - with the depressing appearance of a gilded snowflake was the only light in Gildentundra. His second family heirloom was a sheet of glossy dragon scales tampered into a fine cuirass which was more of a banquet item rather than respectable armour.

But, despite all his cruelty and petty behaviors he knew one thing: He wouldn’t live forever. He wanted a son to inherit the land. So over this matter he obsessed for he found all the mares in his realms and other neighboring ones ugly and unworthy of his time.

It was then that he heard of the land of Farreach in its fantasy like existence. He wasted no time to prepare a caravan to go scouting in the rumored location. He readied a cartographer, a herald and serfs with provisions to go see this northwestern land for it was unknown if such a fantasy could exist.

This would be ‘happily ever after’ Vainblade thought. Alas, for Gildentundra, for it would be anything but for him, his land, and his bride-to-be.

Comments

[Pretentious Narwhal]

. . . Green?

[RoyalBardofCanterlot]

Oh dear. Building up suspense here.

[Bicyclette]

Now, I shall remind you the First Apprentice—wielder of the Friendfyre; Clover the Clever—has a green mane. But, at the time of these events before her birth, ‘green’ only existed in the Farreach, the coats of pariahs, and the unknown worlds.

ooh, love this bit! really makes the whole medieval fantasy tale vibe