Chapter 1
The salty tang of the sea filled the air joining the sounds of creaking wooden hulls and the snapping of sails. Men and women rushed from post to post, all of them desperately focused on whatever task needed their attention. Sailors checked and re-checked the rigging while navigators pored over their maps, striving to find any indications of land nearby. Armed warriors with bows and spears stood on the sides of boats, standing rigid and alert. And others simply stared. Whether at the water, the others on board, or at any of the dozens of ships sailing alongside theirs they stared blankly and with no emotion showing. Yet despite all of this diverse activity there was something that every single one of the humans shared at that moment: pain.
Mothers wept for their lost children, wives for their husbands, husbands for their wives, and so and so on. Cries of pain and grief filled the air, overlapping and joining with each other in a twisted chorus. Their homes had been taken from them and their loved ones slaughtered out of hand. There had been no restraint from their enemies and certainly no mercy or quarter. The Equestrians were barbarians, monsters . . . daemons. Their rulers had laughed as they lorded over the massacres and stolen everything from humanity. Wherever one looked they could see the heraldry of at least one of the tribes.
Those who had managed to board the fleeing vessels had been a patchwork of soldiers, civilians, and leaders from every conceivable tribe. The obvious ones were here: The Thunder Tribe, the Eagle Tribe, the Lightning Tribe, and the Shadow Tribe were the most powerful and influential clans that had survived the attempted genocide of their race. Of the 12 most powerful tribes, only four had survived. All the others were minor clans that were subservient to one or more of the major clans and of those there were only a handful left out of dozens. What had they done? What had they done to offend the gods so much that such creatures had been sent to purge them?
----
“My lord!” The shout shook Volksson from his reverie. Slowly he stood to his full six foot height and turned to face the guard, his pitch black cloak gathering around his feet like a spreading pool of ink. The guard bowed before him before giving his report.
“We have done as you asked lord and taken stock of our supplies. Onboard we have more than enough food to last us a few months, but we have a disturbing lack of fresh drinking water. Our assessment is that we will have to find some source of water soon or we will be out within the next week.” Sighing Volksson closed his eyes in thought.
“Have we received word of the other tribes’ supply situation?”
“Only a few disjointed reports. However we think that the ships from the rest of the tribe are in similar situations to us.”
“Very well,” Volksson replied opening his eyes and staring at his guard. “Begin spreading the word: We must have a clansmeet of some sort and establish the supply situation of the convoy as soon as possible. An accurate image of the situation and cooperation between the trib . . . between the convoy must be our first priority.” With a quick assent the guard left.
Turning back to his writing desk, Volksson closed his eyes and put a hand to his forehead.
“What would you have done father?” He asked quietly, the pain of that event still fresh in his mind. Volksson was the eldest son of the late chief of the Shadow Tribe, Aidensson Shadow. During the mid-point of the invasion, his father had sacrificed himself and his guards by launching an all-out strike on the Equestrian army and their queens to buy time for the civilians to escape. He had died a hero and a martyr, his heroism only matched by the might of the Triunes, a powerful clan within the Shadow Tribe. With no other leader in place, Volksson had become the Chief and had led his people to escape the war. But one question still consumed his thinking every minute of every hour of every day:
Had he saved the tribe, or had he merely delayed the inevitable?
----
Wild cheering and raucous applause greeted the procession. In the city of Everfree, a great celebration was being held. Parading down the streets were grand columns of soldiers, their golden armor shining brilliantly in the noonday sun. Each soldier held their heads up proudly, soaking in the praise and accolades of the crowds. But if they were immersed in the praise of the crowds, the two beings behind them were drowning in it.
Celestia and Luna stood upon a great golden chariot pulled by the strongest of their earth ponies, the strain evident on their faces as they pulled the solid gold vehicle. The two rulers had their wings fully unfurled, each wearing their great armor. Each suit of armor had been worked upon until every scratch, ding, and speck of dirt had been removed and had been polished until each and every pony could see their reflections in them. The two princesses listed with a smug pride to the cheers of their subjects.
“Glory to the princesses!”
“Equestria for Equestrians!
“The beasts have been vanquished!”
They waved and smiled, causing the ponies to cheer and chant all the louder. The princesses had been attending to victory celebrations and great processions in every city and town across Equestria following the final battle against the humans. Already, builders and settlers were en route to begin the rebuilding and resettling of the lands reclaimed from the humans. Raw materials and gems were flowing into the rest of the land from the formerly human territories and in the wake of their victory there had been a practical economic renaissance. Wealth was flowing liberally between each and every one of the Equestrian settlements. Never in their history had there been a time such as this: It truly was a golden age.
----
4 Days Later . . .
Volksson sat at a hastily placed seat staring across the table at the leaders of the other three major tribes. Directly across from him was Barca Thunder of the Thunder Tribe. Barca was not as tall as Volksson, but he had a sense of presence that negated that disadvantage. His hair was nut brown and cut short and he was clean-shaven. He was in a similar situation to Volksson. Barca’s father had been Thorvaldsen Thunder, last chief of the tribe. Volksson did know him as well as some of the others, but from what he had seen Barca was an honest leader and thought of his people before himself. It wasn’t just blood that made him a worthy successor to Thorvaldsen.
Next to him was Arnulf, chief of the Eagle Tribe. He was a fierce warrior, the numerous scars on his face and upper body bearing testament to his combat record. Unlike Volksson and Barca he had been chief long before the clansmeet that had first introduced humanity to the Equestrians. He stood as tall as Volksson and his whole body was heavily muscled. Arnulf had shoulder-length black hair and piercing blue eyes. Volksson was wary of him as the Eagle Tribe had a bit of a reputation as brutal fighters. While the Shadow and Eagle Tribes had never fought against each other, Volksson knew that he could never let his guard down around him. If Arnulf detected any weakness in him who knew what steps he would take?
Finally there was Gormensson Lightning. The man was a slightly pudgy individual, his face pinched in worry. It was sad really, the Lightning Tribe had once been a truly powerful tribe, their combat prowess known and respected by all. But as their power grew, they stagnated. Their leaders grew complacent and soon almost all of their attention was on wealth and power rather than their martial ability. Thank the gods that their warriors had not been as weak as their leaders. Eventually, thought Volksson, their tribe would have to change or die out. Turning his attention back to all of the assembled leaders.
“My friends,” he began. “We have gone through the depths of Hell these past few months. Our lands taken, our people obliterated, and our race pushed to the brink of annihilation. However I am here to urge that in the face of this crisis we must stay united. I have heard something of the supply situation of the rest of the convoy, but nothing more than that. If we are to survive we must find some way to divvy up our resources between the convoy or we will all perish.”
The others looked between each other before all of them slowly nodded.
“Your idea is sound Shadow,” commented Arnulf. “My tribe suffers from a lack of food while our water supplies are quite well-stocked.”
“We have a decent supply of both,” commented Gormensson.
“My ships lack food and water,” said Barca softly. “However we have more than enough supplies to keep the convoy sailing for some time.” Volksson nodded.
“And we suffer from a lack of water. At least the divisions are simpler than I had thought they would be.”
“Indeed,” said Arnulf, nodding. “Our water for the Shadow’s food, and food and water from the rest of the convoy in exchange for the Thunder Tribe’s raw materials and tools.” While it seemed simple, the specifics of this plan took hours to fully flesh out. Meetings were planned for the next few days so that they would be able to streamline where the convoy was going and how they would get there. Night had fallen by the time the meeting was finished. As the last of the leaders left his ship, Volksson let out a visible sigh of relief. The guard next to him frowned.
“My lord, are you alright?” Volksson just gave him a slight smile.
“As well as can be expected. It’s just that these talks were draining. It makes me wonder how my father was able to do it for so long.” The guard chuckled.
“Well, I won’t say I envy your job sir, but I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“Thank you for your support, but I feel that I will need far more than words in the days to come.”
----
The two ponies, one a unicorn and one a pegasus, walked together through the forest. Night had fallen an hour ago and they were rushing home. But even the darkness couldn’t get their spirits down. Their princesses had won! The barbaric humans had been driven away and now life was flourishing all over the country. Everything was going well until they ran into the trees.
“Oww,” the unicorn said, rubbing his sore head. Looking up he saw that they were still on the path, but the trees on either side of it had twisted, bent, and stretched until their roots and branches formed a wooden barricade over the path.
“What the hay,” he murmured. His companion momentarily forgotten, the unicorn paced in front of the wall trying to understand just how something like this had happened. While examining the twisted trees, the pegasus got to his hooves groaning in pain.
“What hit us?” The unicorn waved to him from the altered tree line.
“Hey, can you fly up and see how far back this wall goes? I want to see just what we’re dealing with.”
“Yeah yeah,” the pegasus said stretching out his wings and lifting off. But just before he reached the treetops, he heard a creaking motion and as he turned a gnarled branch struck him in the face. He yelped in pain before falling to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs. The unicorn turned towards his fallen friend quickly, the strange, wooden wall forgotten.
“What happened?” The pegasus merely groaned and pointed his hoof straight up into the air.
“What are you talking about . . .” His voice trailed off as he saw what had struck his friend. The branches were slithering through the air like wooden snakes. Their size, girth, or shape didn’t matter as it seemed that each one was in constant flux. Every part of their form shifted and changed by the second and writhed through the air despite the lack of wind. The unicorn couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He could feel no magic in the air so how the hay were those branches moving on their own and . . . and . . . changing like they were? He backed away slowly, shaking his head as he did so, unable to comprehend the strange sights before him.
Worse, as he tried to look beyond the living, shifting branches he could see the stars going out one by one. Utter darkness soon consumed him, broken only by a hastily cast light spell that shone light on himself and his fallen friend. But somehow he could feel his magic weakening even though he should be at full strength. Every moment that passed he could see the circle of light surrounding them shrinking inch by inch.
“I don’t understand,” he stammered as the darkness came ever closer. “I don’t understand. This can’t be happening. THIS DOESN’T MAKE SENSE!” And as the echoes of his shout faded and the darkness came ever closer, he heard one last thing before falling into unconsciousness.
“Make Sense? Oh what fun is there in making sense?”
Stats
Page generated in 0.02 seconds
Total duration
1,075 users online
1,803,600 hits today, 2,004,447 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
i20.photobucket.com/albums/b207/GryphonScratch/AdviceDiscord1.png
Heyo: that's Empy. Get your shit straight.
I see the Emprah!
Let me guess its Discord that is coming
1769541
Indeed you do bruva.
1780434
I have no qualms about admitting that I am a big fan of your fic and drew inspiration from it. I had the idea before I read your fic, but after reading yours I got more motivated to get my own story out. I have strived to avoid ripping anything off your fic in both stories and I hope that I have succeeded. I hope that you enjoy both stories and that you keep up the excellent work on your own.
Thought for the day: "Knowledge is power, guard it well."
1780457
And you as well my good sir. I really like your avatar pic by the way.
Yeah Discord is on the scene.
Lilith: * pony hiss * Those hypocrite Princesses think they did good! We only steal love to survive, but they murdered for land and greed! Now all I want to do is wish for their destruction! My Human, what do you think?
Me: They must die!
Lilith: I certainly agree, I am eager to see how Discord will make their lives miserable, as well as how the humans survive. Very good Duffman18! You've gotten me to cheer for a species outside of my own! Both of us are eager to see the net update, and I didn't even have to use a spell on him for this one to get him to hold my hoof. Please, keep them coming!
Discord: hello, it's karma, bitches!
Singing: "Karmas goona come collect their debt!"
Time to burn, swearword!