Humanity and Ponykind

by Swordsmen

Equs Sapiens

"I repeat, HALT!"

Finally, his men turned around, shocked at seeing their commander appear behind them. They stopped in their tracks, a short distance away from the main entrance, where more and more guards were awaiting further instructions. The man they carried by the shoulders let out an audible sigh.

Bernand finally caught up with them, "I demand you to release that man," His guards complied to his orders immediately, and dropped the man on the ground. He later shakily rose up to his feet, and tried to look at Bernand, but couldn't, as he kept trying to adjust his unkempt hair.

"What is the matter, my good man?" He carefully put his hand on the man's shoulder, which was enough to calm him down just a bit.

The man did not say anything at first, merely looking at them with a concerned and yet scared expression. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out of it. It was clear to Bernand that this was afraid of something, just enough to keep him from talking about it. He shook the man's shoulder a bit, trying to emphasize his need of knowing why this man was in such a state.

Then, he finally spoke, through his trembling teeth, "S- sir, I- I am from the expedition. W- we concluded our mission w-west, and... And we found something hideous, something unimaginable,"

"Well? What is it soldier?"

"Sir, please, do take me as insane, do not judge me, for I am completely sane and about to tell the truth!" He clambered to his knees, begging for his commander to take his words as the whole truth, "Horses, sir! They... They spoke to us! They know how to talk, they have a village, they're so many in number. Our men thought they were being fooled by the devil himself! B- But no! It is Truth!"

He helped the man on to his trembling feet again, showing concern for this man's sanity, "What is the meaning of this soldier? Surely you must have been hallucinated by one of those natives' arrows, no?"

D'Ambroise suddenly spoke behind him, "Nonsense! Sir, how are you even considering this matter? It must have been something else, surely!"

Men all around them seemed inclined to agree with D'Ambroise, "Talking horses? There have been many fairy tales about animals who could talk, all of them have been proved wrong!" He continued still.

Bernand turned back to the man, who now held his head low, "My good man, why are you in such a state?"

"Sir... Sir, please forgive me, b- but I am just exhausted from our expedition, and... I've been sent to warn you that they are arriving in a few moments... With the talking horses."

"The church would certainly condemn this man to herer--"

"Enough, Jacque D'Ambroise. Can you not see this man needs our help?" Looking back at him, clearly startled, "Was it not you who worried so much about our men's well-being? If we leave this man and call him a heretic, then we are doing as you yourself feared! Desertion en masse!"

He fell silent, and looked away from the commander. Bernand took this as an opportunity to further question the man, "What is your name, soldier?"

"A- Augustine, sir,"

"Augustine, are you able to tell me if what you say is the complete truth?" Before he let the man speak, he said,"Are you willing to face the consequences if this ends up being untrue?"

"Yes, sir! In my mother's name, what I tell you is truth!" He said, now looking directly at Bernand's face, with an unquestionable amount of assertiveness, "Sir, I urge you to watch the front entrance! The rest of the expedition is closing in. Only then, sir, will you see if my words are truth or not!"

"Very well, Augustine," He turned away from the man, and observed the remainder of his men line up against the pathway to the front entrance, ready to act.

"MEN! POSITION YOURSELVES, FACE THE MAIN ENTRANCE, AND NOTIFY ME WHEN THE EXPEDITION ARRIVES WITHIN OUR CAMP'S FIELD OF VIEW!" He gestured his two guards from before to come closer to him, and ignore the previous order, "I want you both to climb the guard towers next to the entrance, be sure to notify me if they arrive, or if anything out of the ordinary happens nearby,"

Both guards saluted their commander, equipped their rifles, and made way to the guard towers.

"Sir, if I may?" Asked D'Ambroise, now next to Bernand.

"Speak," He said, simply.

"What if this man is lying?" The man was startled, shocked even. D'Ambroise continued, "Superstitions are not uncommon sir, and every one of them have been proven to be false..."

Bernand simply looked at his men getting into position facing the entrance. He could see from the corner of his eye that his soldier Augustine was silently begging to believe him. All the while, D'Ambroise tried and tried to convince him that the man is merely seeing things, that the church would not approve of this man's behaviour, and that they would be in trouble when they arrive in France.

"I believe that it is quite enough D'Ambroise," He stated, becoming slightly annoyed. He cleared his mind of his adviser's words, and focused on what the man had told him. At first, it seemed that his soldier was telling the absolute truth, that he had indeed seen things, mainly, horses speaking, and that they're coming their way at the moment.

But when he put more thought into the matter, it started becoming more and more far-fetched. Speaking horses? Horses that had so far, not spoken a single word in humanity's history so far, that were used for both war and plowing the land. He almost felt ridiculous at even considering the matter. Though, he did not plan on showing this to his adviser.

He looked directly at the man next to him, a tiny bit shorter than he was, but certainly a figure of respect, if not for his current condition. His clothing was ragged in almost every direction, his face was still red from running so much, as were his eyes. This man was so vulnerable right now, easily knocked over with the slightest change of wind...

But what impressed him the most, was that this man kept his discipline, even in this state. It was something he deeply respected, the only thing keeping him from personally training his men in every day of every week. He could not forget that this was an actual army, a detachment of one, to be exact.

He was pleased to see, that in a few short seconds, his men were awaiting further instructions on both sides of the pathway leading to the entrance, their guns firmly pressed against their shoulders, and separated of each other only by a twig's length. Though, he was not satisfied with this position, now that he thought about it further.

"Men! Spread out along the pathway, face the soldier apposite of you, and take two steps backwards!" He shouted.

His command was law, and as soon as he finished, his soldiers were following his orders with rigorous precision. Once they had spaced themselves out, and faced each other on both ends, was Bernand truly satisfied. He was proud to have this men under his command. He felt as if he could conquer the world with them.

And with all of this thinking, Bernand managed to completely ignore D'Ambroise's suggestions to send this man away and be done with it. He honestly was getting sick of hearing his adviser's constant bickering, his excuses becoming more and more illogical each time he spoke his mind. He would gladly tell him to tone down on his useless suggestions, but did not have the patience to do it.

Time kept moving forward, only seemingly going faster because of Bernand's endless thoughts about his men and current situation. While he thought, he would glance around at his men, silently awaiting for the expedition to arrive. He would look at his camp's fortifications, completely made out of wood collected in the nearby forest.

He thought of replacing the walls of the camp with stone, as to offer better protection against possible invasions by the native's part. Maybe installing a proper gate on the entrance wouldn't be so far off... Then again, he and his men wouldn't reside here for too long before finally leaving for France.

He caught eye of a brown leaf, flying through the skies like a bird. It swirled around mid-air, never taking a straight path in the sky. It flew off to the distance, in between the many trees that painted the forest ahead. He was aware that Autumn had finally come, and his thoughts of leaving this camp as soon as possible were plentiful.

But, amidst the trees in the distance, partially covered in flying leaves pushed by the winds, he could see something. Some kind of movement.

As soon as he had spotted this, his men on the guard towers shouted down at their commander, pointing at the trees ahead.

"Both of you, come down here!" He shouted at them vigorously.

He let out an audible puff of air. He did not like being under pressure. Simply spotting movement on the forest's edge was enough to break his thought process. All he needed to know was if their men were all well. He simply couldn't live with himself, knowing that he had sent them to certain death and not see them again.

Inside, he was on edge, almost panicking. But on the outside, he remained calm and vigilant, having the look of one who's spent too much time on useless affairs, and hoping for something better.

This was a general's best tactic to soldier their men. Even if morale is low, even when the situation seemed grim, never falter, never give up. Rile up the men, and boost their morale with an inspiring speech, a resilient attitude, or an ever-lasting victory, however small it was. This was, implying he was in a battlefield, marching against the enemy forces, and not awaiting for your own expedition's return, who he could probably see in the distance.

His guardsmen had retreated behind him, on his flanks.

There he waited, in the middle of the pathway, with his adviser, a soldier and two guardsmen. Whoever entered the camp would easily recognize him as an important figure amidst the vast numbers of men lined up near the pathway itself. He glanced at D'Ambroise, who seemed to have spotted some sort of movement as well, shutting him up completely. Bernand was pleased by this.

His soldier, Augustine, had stopped shivering, and now had a clear-white face, looking his commander's lined up men with interest. He did not seem to have spotted the expedition yet, or rather, whatever came their way right now. Bernand himself was not sure if it was them who came their way. He had the distinct feeling that this was a trap of some sort.

Yet he waited, and waited. The distant figures had vanished beneath the valley, far from the camp. Bernand had intentionally chosen a hill as a suitable location for the camp. It gave him a large view distance, enabling him to assemble his forces in time before anything bad could happen to the men.

He wasn't surprised to see that it, at the very least, too twice the time in order to climb the hill. it could've been easier if they had made a stone pathway up and down the valley. But this would've been far more beneficial if they weren't in a so isolated place, far away from the French Empire's most populous settlements. Transportation of goods was not an issue here, so he left the valley in its original state.

His men were starting to look at each other more often, occasionally tapped their feet on the grass and some were even starting to shiver -- not out of fear, but from cold. Not even their thick brown coats could stop the freezing winds from piercing their skin. Yet they remained in position, waiting as Bernand did.

A figure rose from the valley, still a considerable distance away from the main entrance. He could not quite tell, but he thought it was one of his men, leading the rest behind him calmly. They walked as if they were taking a stroll through the park, not really worried about anything, just passing the time.

As they got closer, D'Ambroise noticed something, "Sir, are they..." He inched closer, adjusting his spectacles, "Why do they have their hands together like that?"

The more they approached the camp, the easier it was to see what D'Ambroise meant. They held their hands close, gripping them together in front of them, as if they were practicing some kind of religious ceremony. Their faces were obscured, all of them hung their heads low, barely knowing where they were going.

Augustine, his soldier, had taken this fact into account as well. This was shown by his furious shivering and horrified expression. He was just barely keeping himself up straight. Bernand pretended to not care much, instead observing his men's reaction to this. They would occasionally glance at the entrance, trying to decipher what was going on.

The expedition drew closer, and closer still. At which point, they were close enough to be able to distinguish their clothing and what they carried with them.

But this was also where they came into a complete halt. The man in front of them, who kept his head low until now, raised it, and looked directly at the commander's direction, with an expression he could not read at that distance. He then proceeded to step aside, away from the grassy pathway, and turn around to the other side, much like Bernand's men did.

The people behind that man did the same as well, and opened the pathway for a figure, a figure that was vaguely familiar to Bernand.

Hah... Yes, of course, this must be a joke. It was all a trick, Bernand was simply seeing things. Surely it must be a well-played joke made by one of his loyal men...

Augustine trembled and trembled, nearly shattering his teeth.

D'Ambroise let out a gasp of surprise, but remained silent still.

All the while, Bernand simply stared at the figures which were now approaching them.

He saw, how three distinct creatures entered the camp, in an almost royal fashion and stopped just a short way of Bernand.

It was as if he was dreaming right now. Right there, right in front of him, he saw three horses... No, they resembled more like ponies due to their size, which at most, reached his upper arm, and their overall characteristics.

One of them had a horn, placed right in its forehead, another had wings on both of its flanks, and another lacked both of these aspects. They had huge-- enormous eyes, so full expression and thought. Their head was shaped very differently from a normal horse's. They were more round, their snout wasn't as pronounced, and their noses were very small.

The most unsettling fact, was that they were all colored differently. The one with the horn had a deep blue fur, and a darker tone of the same color for its mane. The one with wings was a bright shade of purple, with a pale version of the same color for its mane. The horse, pony, or whatever it was, without a horn or wings, had a yellow-toned fur, with stripes of pale grey all over its black-pitched mane.

These creatures were so very similar to horses as Bernand knew them, but, they were so different from them as well. They way they act, from looking at his men with those expressive eyes, to curiously watching him right in front of them, they reminded him so much of people, of humans... Was this normal? Was he becoming insane?

He glanced at his soldiers, who eyed the creatures with equal interest, but with completely different intentions, as he gathered. A few of his soldiers were twitching their hands towards their guns, clearly very afraid of anything these creatures might do. It was safe to say, that his men were not trained for this kind of moment.

The wind was the only thing that many any noise in that camp. Everyone stared at the three horses in the middle of the pathway. Everyone was scared of what they might do. His men were indeed disciplined, but to an extent. He did not want to know how much time it took for one of his men to suddenly snap and shoot at them.

Bernand, to an outsider, looked perfectly okay with the situation. He did not flinch, he did not move a muscle. He remained exactly in the same position as he did since he last ordered his men to move. Though, he held his head a little high up, and looked down at the creatures with mild interest, as if he was watching a very uninteresting piece of poetry sung by a bard.

While on the inside, his brain was struggling to comprehend the situation at all. It was too much pressure to handle, too many things happening at once in his head for him to even begin making sense of them. The only way one could tell that Bernand was nervous at all, was by a single drop of sweat rolling down his temple.

The creature with the horn, turned away from one of Bernand's soldiers, and looked up at him. Suffice to say, the creature seemed awfully curious about Bernand, as it tilted its head. It then looked next to him, and spotted Augustine, who was still shivering like a madman. It simply nodded at him with a smile. A smile that sent a chill down Bernand's spine.

A creature other than human, smile? It was something completely--

The creature looked straight at Bernand, and adjusted its voice.

"Greetings, fellow human being," It said in perfect french, "I am Striking Blue, and we are here to formally establish relations with your most honourable kingdom."