Chapter I
“If you are reading this, then you are human, like me.
You may be wondering how I can be so certain of this, but let me assure you that it is the only possible outcome. No one here in this strange land is capable of speaking the tongue of my homeland, let alone read in it, as I have done my best to mask my true identity from the native people I have met here. Not only that, but the gods have seen fit to bless me with a sight beyond sight, and though many things are cloudy to mine eyes, I have been able to discern that, while it is impossible in my lifetime, there will come a day when my countrymen will walk this land again. That day may seem impossibly far off, but I know it is a certainty, if only because the capital of the Crystal Ones cannot remain sealed away for eternity.”
“The curse I taught my students was not that potent.”
“I know you have many questions for me, however I cannot answer them all. The space I have to write is only so much, and I cannot risk writing more, for fear that my students will ask questions that I cannot answer. They have been through enough, have known too many hardships, and I fear that the country they have made is not ready for my kind yet. Not after the chaos bringer.”
“Did you truly think so little of us?” Princess Luna muttered under her breath.
“Possibly, though he does have a point. With the horror of Discord so fresh in everyone’s mind, it is entirely possible that he would have been branded a monster and chased from our nation had he been discovered by the common people,” Princess Celestia countered. “After all, it was only fairly recently that the changelings were seen as anything other than monsters, so such an assumption isn’t as insulting as it may first appear.”
Luna grumbled at this a little, but did not otherwise raise any further objections as she turned back to me. “Please continue, Alex.”
Alex nodded and turned his gaze back to the pages in front of him, his eyes quickly sweeping over the old text written in modern printer font until he found where he had last left off. He thought it felt a little wrong to be reading something as important as this on what amounted to a sheaf of copy paper bound together by a single staple, but there was very little he could do to change that. Even if the original manuscript was in a language he could understand, it was still incredibly old, even with the preservation spells that the princesses had used on it. It had only been removed from its resting place briefly for translation, but now resided again inside the princess’ vault, protected like a national treasure which, in retrospect, was exactly what it was.
As for what the former human held, it was significantly less impressive, though still quite valuable, considering it was the first manuscript of one of the galaxy’s earliest interplanetary travelers. He suspected that it would eventually become a book in its own right, translated into a multitude of different languages, studied by schoolers both human and otherwise, but at this point it was little more than a stapled collection of printer paper. Hardly a fitting look for the last words of one of the first people to cross the stars, but there was very little that he could do to improve the manuscript at that point, especially given that the room full of alien ponies were all staring expectantly at him, waiting for him to continue translating the words of one of their oldest heroes. With a shake of his head to rid himself of his misgivings, as well as a sip of water to quench his parched throat, he continued reading the old traveler’s words. “There will come a time, however, when they will need to know. Know what I have hidden from them, and what I have sacrificed. They are most likely there, behind you, waiting impatiently for you to read them my last words, and while I do have some to impart to them, that must wait until later.”
This caused another round of irritated grumbling, but they did not interrupt Alex this time as he continued to read the traveler’s message. “Now, I address you, my kinsmen, for I am sure you are filled with confusion at seeing an earthly tongue inscribed anywhere on this strange, yet beautiful world. I know that it may seem impossible, but know that not only have I bridged this impossible distance, but many others before me have done so as well. I am the last, however, and with the disappearance of the Crystal One’s city, I fear that it may take many millennia before another like me sets foot on this world again.”
“But though we are barred by the seas of time, you shall come. I have seen it, and I know it must come to pass. I have many things I wish to impart, many visions specifically for you, but before I give you what you require, there must be context before the warning. You must first know me, and know why it is so important that you heed the words of a lost madman.”
“My name is Myrddin. Many of my countrymen called me crazy, a mad prophet, for I spoke of things beyond their understanding. After all, how could one understand that which is impossible to prove? The power of Mother Earth had been waning for some time, so much so that those that believed she had any power to give to begin with were few, and far between. I might have even been one of those naysayers, had it not been for the fact that I was raised as a sorcerer by my father, and for the visions he and I had been given by the earth herself as she cried out in torment.”
“The spells I was taught were beyond anything that could be sustained on our mother earth, however. I was taught theories and practices that were no longer usable, and I would often complain to my father that he was teaching me useless drivel, for the most I was ever able to accomplish on our fair homeworld was a single, pitiful flame, no larger than my smallest finger. He saw wisdom in teaching me, however, and though the visions were quite weak, he still foresaw a time when they would not only prove useful, but save whole nations from the torments of a mad demon.”
“So, despite my misgivings, I learned under my father, while the visions I had instilled a trust that his teachings would not go to waste, even though they waned in strength. I had no other lifeline, no friends to cling to, for all saw me as a madman and an outcast, the son of a madman and an outcast. This scorn did pain me to greatly, but I endured it, and endured it well, in hopes that someday my suffering would bear fruit.”
“However, my father never saw that day. He died when thieves raided our home, and though they left me alive, I was left penniless and without support. I thought my fate sealed, and the future as well, had it not been for the events that transpired on my twenty-fifth birthday…”
* * *
I stumbled through the town square, my eyes downcast as I patiently nibbled at the crust of bread in my hand. It had been poor pickings this day, as the whole countryside was exceedingly poor, and had very little to spare a raving beggar such as myself. I didn’t mind so much, though. Even if I didn’t have much to eat, I still had a roof above my head, which was more than some could say.
Always stay positive, is what I would say to myself during such trying times. After all, It could always get worse.
Yet, even as those thoughts rumbled in my head, I couldn't help but feel my heart fall as I turned the corner. Speaking of worse… I thought as my eyes fell upon a wagon flanked by several soldiers, all armed to the teeth. For the most part, they all wore gambesons, though their apparent leader was outfitted with mail, causing me to groan inwards at what was in store for me. I was not guilty of any crime, but I knew of my reputation, and should the soldiers find fault with me, or were significantly bored, they would not hesitate to ridicule and beat the town’s madman.
What was worse was that, barring me turning around and circling the entire town, I had to pass them by. My cottage was on the other side of town at the edge of the woods, after all, and if I had any hopes of reaching it before sunset, I had to brave the jeers and strikes of these formidable warriors.
My hesitance cost me the initiative, as well. I couldn’t even bring my hood up to hide my face, for they had already seen me, and were smiling cruelly as they followed the cart up the street. “Ho, is it not the mad prophet?” a spearman asked, nudging his fellow as they came into earshot. “What news do we have from the gods today? Is the sky going to rain fire? Perhaps the sun will tear itself from the sky, and be replaced with the moon at midday?”
“Perhaps he will tell us again of the magic he possesses, but cannot use. Why was that again?” his fellow asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Did you not say something about how the Earth was dying? About how we have very little time left before the grace of the gods forsook us entirely?”
I did not answer. I couldn’t. In fact, I barely heard their sneers at my previous warnings. Instead, I was frozen in place, my eyes locked onto the sheet that covered the large object sitting in the back of the cart. It was a nondescript, piece of patched cloth, probably made of wool, and dyed an ugly mud color.
That wasn’t what made me stop, however.
I could feel it, coursing through my veins, filling me with strength beyond any that I had felt before. It was like being warm for the first time, like sinking into a heated bath, or coming into a warm home during a bleak winter’s storm. It was, by far, the most exhilarating feeling I had ever experienced, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that, had I woven even the most difficult of my spells, it would not only have succeeded, but far outstripped anything that my father had thought was possible.
Beyond that, however, was the voice. I could hear her, calling to me, begging me to come to her. I had heard her before, her tortured screams haunting my every dream since before I could even speak, but it had always been a distant thing, as if she were calling to me from behind a locked door, or if I had held my hands over my ears, or through the depths of the deepest of sleeps.
Now, however, her voice was as clear as the brightest sunrise, and though my conscious mind was preventing me from fully understanding her, my heart told me enough.
I had to obtain whatever was under that sheet, by any means necessary.
Before I had even comprehended what was happening, however, before my mind could even form a coherent thought, a fist lashed out at me, and I felt the whole world tilt and rush upwards to greet me. The ground was soft, as it had only rained a day previous, so I was not injured by the sudden fall. However, my shock at the blow had left my mouth open, and though I would have wished it otherwise, I quickly found myself with a mouthful of filth, and stripped of my pride as a boot pressed down on the back of my head.
“Next time I speak, you say ‘yes sir,’” a voice barked at me, all while his compatriots laughed and jeered. Even the townsfolk joined in, though I couldn’t help but notice a furtive, uncomfortable note in their voices. I knew they pitied me, might have even sympathized with me, but they laughed anyway. They feared the local lord and his cronies far too much to even think about aiding a mad beggar, so I found no relief from the pressure, no ally of those around me.
However, I endured it well. It would have been so easy to unleash the power at my disposal, but I did nothing. If even one survived, be it man-at-arms or townsfolk, I would be hunted as a witch for the rest of my days. My spells might have been mighty, but I had no actual practical experience with them, which left me far more vulnerable than I would have liked.
What's more it that murdering an entire town, especially this town that had been my home for so long, was a bitter choice to make. Even if they scorned me for my oddities, there were still faces here that I had come to know and respect, people who had gifted me sustenance in my poverty, even as they scorned me for my visions and peculiarities.
So, I took the face full of mud with grace and patience, waiting with an almost unnatural calm as the guards came and kicked me, listening with a detached sense of frustration until they were finally called away by their leader.
“That is enough,” the steady, strong voice of their commander piped up. “Let the man go, we are behind as it is.”
“We were having just a bit of fun, is all…” another muttered in disappointment.
“Nevertheless, Our Lord will not be pleased should we be late,” the leader said, his voice becoming sterner. “Leave the beggar in the mud and come along. We’re losing daylight, and must bring our lord’s new acquisition into his presence before nightfall, and your ‘fun’ is doing very little to aid that cause.”
The soldier with his boot on my head pushed one more time, before letting me go, his muttering clear as day to me, even as I coughed up a mouth full of filth. It was beyond degrading, but I cared very little. I cared so little, in fact, that I didn’t even bother picking up the now filthy crust of bread, choosing instead to rise to my feet, before stumbling away and off to the side of a nearby cottage and out of sight. The mud still caked my clothes, but it was of no concern to me as I eyed the cart from around the corner, closed my eyes, and exhaled all the breath from my lungs.
Imagine the clearest of water, or the wind itself… a voice I had not heard in a long time echoed through me. Superimpose that image onto yourself, and fade away, as you infuse your power into it. You are unnoticeable, untouchable, nothing more than an ant on the side of the road. Now… everyone will see you as such, for you are the most unremarkable thing to ever exist.
And with one final breath inwards, I became just that.
It was not true invisibility, for when I looked down at my hands, I could still see them, the mud and skin still there despite the magic I had woven. Despite this, however, I was still completely unnoticeable and unremarkable by others. Only the strongest of wills, or those that truly wanted to see me, would even take note of my presence.
It was not perfect, however. It would not protect me should I do something outlandish like, say, slit a guard’s throat in broad daylight. However, it was more than enough to allow me to calmly walk up to the now moving cart and climb into the back.
As I settled into the hard wood of the cart, I found myself unsure of what my next move was. I had an idea of a plan, for a number of the spells I had been taught would have sufficed to quell the unruly guards before we reached their destination, but even so, deciding which one to use was a chore in and of itself. Before I could use any of them, however, I had to first wait until after we had left the town behind us. There were too many eyes here, too many that could shake off my enchantment when I put my plan into action. The lord’s castle was a half-day’s journey away, though, which gave me plenty of time alone with the group to ensure that they never reached their destination with their cargo.
I briefly felt bad for the driver, for I knew that he would feel the brunt of Lord Æthelnođ’s wrath when he brought down his fury upon the escort, but I pushed down those feelings of regret.
After all, the fate of our world was in the balance. Their lives were a pittance in comparison to that goal.
* * *
“...Why would they treat him like that?” Fluttershy asked, her voice quivering in fright. “Even if he was… different, he still needed their help! Why would they…?”
“I am more concerned with why Myrddin thought the guard’s failure would result in their deaths,” Luna said, her voice filled with disdain. “A single failure like that should result in a reprimand at most, but death? That action speaks of the insecurities of a tyrant.”
“And you’d be right,” Alex said as he smiled sadly. “The answer to both is the same. Back then, it was the strong that governed the weak. If you could wield a weapon, or command men, then you had the qualifications to rule. Your actual ability to govern? Empathy? Wisdom? Cunning? All meant very little in the face of a blade.”
“It is not so different from how the ponies were supposed to have acted in the time before Discord, but it does beg the question... What changed?” Celestia asked him, her eyes narrowing slightly in worry.
Alex smiled slightly, before he held up a hand, finger and thumb extended, making a shape that looked remarkably like a human gun. “A few things… We invented the printing press, several important thinkers were born, several revolts against the ruling classes… but the most important was the invention of the gun. A sword, a spear, most martial arts… they take years to learn, and lifetimes to master… but a gun? A gun requires weeks. Not only did it allow armies to be assembled and trained quicker… but it also put power into the hands of the common man. You wouldn’t be so quick to oppress a village if they could turn those same weapons against you, now would you?”
“That… makes an odd sort of sense…” Princess Luna said, her mouth turned down in a frown. “It also goes a far way to explaining some of the… peculiarities of your species.”
“It does, though that’s not to say that it’s a perfect solution…” Alex said, nodding once in agreement before barreling onward. “We’ve still had our fair share of tyrants, even after the advent of the gun, but they all have one thing in common. They always disarm the populace before implementing their crazy schemes. Again, the gun is not a perfect solution, but then again, what ever is?”
“No one in this world is, and neither are the choices we make. All we can do is adapt, and move on,” Celestia said, before nodding once. “I also suppose this bit of history highlights the differences between our two peoples, as well. Ours is more of a herd species, and as such we have inherited many of those traits. We’re easily startled, we’re more inclined to flee then to fight, and we tend to have larger, more trusted ‘herds’ than you do. While you, from what I have observed, are a pack species. You tend to anger instead of fear, you’re more inclined to fight than to flee, and your social groups tend to be smaller.”
“It's a good observation, and one that’ll probably come in handy in the years to come. For now, though…” Alex said, before holding up the manuscript once more.
“Ah, yes, please, if you would continue,” Celestia said, before gesturing towards me with her hoof.
Alex smiled at her, before clearing his throat once more. “...It was so easy to remove those guards with magic, as they had never seen a spell before. In fact, their fathers, grandfathers and great-grandfathers had probably never seen a spell in their entire lives, so they had never needed to build a resistance to such simple powers. Their weak wills and malnourished spirits were easily manipulated, and all that was required to make them take a break from their duties was a simple sleeping spell. Once uncovered, I saw that the source of this strength was a statue of a horse, poised as if rearing back, all while its hind legs were firmly planted on a stone base, all of which was made of the purest white stone that I had ever seen. The base itself was almost man-high, and set into it was a curious carving of an arch on each side, with each arch’s inner surface being polished to an almost mirror-like sheen.”
“I knew not who had made the statue, or for what purpose, only that I needed to get it back to my cottage. I reasoned that, perhaps if I slept in its shadow, then Our Mother Earth would show me what I should do.”
“Sometimes at night, during my lowest hours as I stare at the opulent ceiling of my room here in Everfree Castle, lost far away from the familiar rolling hills of my homeland, unable to eat meat for fear of offending the natives, I wonder if it would have been better had I just left the statue where it was. I know in my head that that is wrong, that I made the right choice, and the lives of so many here are better for it, but my heart yearns for Wessex, for the company of a human woman, and the warm ale of Afton’s tavern.”
“But I am getting ahead of myself. I will not bore you with such petty musings, as I have made my choice, and I have lived with the consequences.”
“Back to the matter at hand, it was a simple thing to get the statue back to my cottage. I left the carriage, and instead carried the statue in my magical grip, as the horse hooves and wheel tracks would have made me far too easy to track. Getting the statue into my cottage was another matter entirely. The thing was much taller than the roof, and far bulkier than the doorframe would allow. Instead, I chose to hide it in the forest, and slept in the shadow of the trees, shrouded by the most powerful wards I could conjure.”
“That first night’s nightmare still haunts me to this day…”
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Not really. As long as you have a trained army with better guns (and cannons, tanks, bomb Carriers, etc..) you have the advantage.
10717820 a well trained army certainly helps, but Mao, Stalin and Hitler all have the exact same thing in common: before they started slaughtering their own people, they disarmed them.
As I read this, I can’t help but think of what Arthurian scholars and other historians would give to get their hands on this book.
“Let’s see, I can offer up a lung, a testicle, a kidney, my left arm, both legs and can I interest you in my first born?”
10718070 hate to disappoint them, but this has little to do with aurthurian legend. Lots to do with the actual Myrddin that lived at the time, who was a notable madman/prophet whom the character of Merlin was at least partially based on, but not Merlin himself.
10717939
Only half true for Hitler. He disarmed the people the Nazis called ''undesirable', so jew's, communists etc. Gun control for the rest of Germany was actually relaxed.
Wiki article: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nazi_gun_control_argument
I don't know how much truth is behind the others named, but I think the better general argument argument would be they disarmed those they wished to suppress / kill and brainwashed the rest. And if the brainwashing fails they have the army to terrorise their people.
10787109 doesn't change the fact that he disarmed them first before throwing them into camps. Always be wary of those that would disarm a population.
Once you have control of information, you don't need to take away guns because most of the guns will be on your side.
10863739
Fox news cough cough.
...A Thought...
I like this. Your dialogue was splendid and natural. It really felt good to read.
I appreciate that this was layered? Like Celly and Luna were not just God Pony - like they are a person. You showed vulnerablity. Which is best Super Pony in my book.
moustache out
Mix of Welsh & Anglo-Saxon going there. And a very misguided American take on gun ownership.
11585674
A certain section of Americans have been brought up to believe that their guns are the only thing keeping others from breaking down the doors, stealing all their goods, and raping their wives.
In addition to their neighbors, their government is also a threat; without those guns, that government might deprive them of all their rights.
The underlying assumption in both cases is that it is people’s normal behavior to act badly. Which is about as opposite the moral from MLP as you can get.