From Sacred Flames

by ArtoriasFlagg

Rumors from the North

Listen, my child, and listen well; for this history is your own just as much as it is ours. There is much you may learn from the words we are about to share, much and more so long as you've the mind to grasp it. All the years of your life you have been fed lies and half-truths, covers to help best cloud your mind to the facts of your existence. What we are about to tell you is a memory we have guarded for years beyond count, centuries and millennia have aged the tale and blurred its meaning. Yet if you are diligent enough, perhaps the ramblings of these old sacks of flesh might open your eyes to the truth that lies before you... But that part is up to you. Regardless, the stories will be told, the songs will be sung, and the Awakening will begin...

The news came just after midnight, its bearer a simple earth pony whose allegiance had been bought decades ago. Honest, familiar, trusted; the watchers had no reason to doubt the truth of his words. They did not question him, they did not stop him, all they could do was open the gates and watch as the words that confirmed their worst fears entered upon his lips.

In that earliest of morning hours the city slept, its citizens safe within their homes of stone and wood and earth, oblivious to the grievous tidings that galloped through the streets outside their windows. A lone earth pony, a rare sight in the capital city of the Planes, raced headlong toward the home of the nation's wisest leaders. An assembly had been called, and the greatest minds the region had to offer had convened there, taking up refuge in its asymmetrical halls for the past month. Generals, politicians, historians, and magi, scientists and clerics, artists and philosophers; all were in attendance, though not all would be awake at such an hour. The call had gone forth over a month prior; those who had assembled here were the last hope that the nation had to find an answer to the growing threat that marshaled before them. A threat whose true magnitude the Council had done everything they could to keep from their citizen knowledge.

Tirelessly they had worked over the past few weeks, collaborating in the hopes of finding a viable solution to the inevitable. Searching desperately for some escape from the fate that was now seeming more and more imminent. Time had been on their side while the war had raged to the north, providing the southern regions with a sense of security as news reached them of far-off battles in inconsequential lands. The strife had taken place on what might as well have been a different planet, its staging grounds an expanse of land almost half a world away. Yet here came our grim witness to that bloody conflict, galloping through the streets with a message that would soon change the way an entire society would look upon recent events. His words would be said in private, spoken in hushed tones safely behind the walls of the capital building. Yet dark words will always find their way to ears that were never meant to hear them, and these words would be as black as the sky itself in the hour that our little messenger ran toward his destination.

He had come from the north; over field and mountain, through forest and bog and desert to reach the city he had been dispatched from to begin with. He had run endlessly for days, a trip that had left him lathered and breathless, yet he would need every last breath he had left in him to pass on the news he carried. The news had been fresh from the source when he had set out almost a week ago, but as he neared the final stop on his journey it dawned on him that all of it could have changed in the time it had taken him to return. For speed he had left the city carrying no provisions or comforts of any kind, making use of the land around him for food and shelter. He nothing with him when he had set off, but he had returned carrying a war upon his back and a death sentence in his words. Perhaps not for himself, but for undoubtedly for his masters in that peaceful capital city. It made little difference to the messenger; his time in this life was nearly at an end either way.

He climbed the steps up to the main door of the capital building: a massive, cavernous hall which the city's founders had dug into the side of the mountain that made up the capital's southern wall. The natural barrier had no official name, remaining as nothing more than just another unclaimed mountain on maps and charts. To the citizens of the city, it was simply called Barricade; a massive slab of granite that jutted upward at such bizarre angles that no one was quite sure how it was able to support its own weight in places. Smooth, seamless, and unclimbable, the Barricade had kept attackers from striking from the south for centuries. The Barricade had held strong for thousands of years and would would likely outlive every city, kingdom, and empire that would ever spring up in its shadow.

He entered unchallenged, the sentinels needed only to look upon him to understand gravity of his mission. Theirs were some of the ears which were not meant to hear the discussions of the inner councils but did anyway. For them, the news from the north had been little more than rumor and hearsay. One look at the ragged messenger, however, made it all seem so much more real, so much closer than it had before. Their eyes were sharp, the eyes of hawks and eagles, and they saw him long before he reached the steps. By the time he got there there was nothing they could do but wave him through, the one on the left quietly cursing him as he passed. None of it mattered to the earth pony; let the griffons curse him all they like, a part of his message pertained to their kind and would soon make matters far worse for them than they could possibly imagine.

So he entered the uneven hall, running past the alcoves, rooms, and corridors that sprouted from the main chamber. A statue of their king graved the center of the hall, set above a massive fountain which flowed with a different type of liquid every day. Most days found it to be some sort of drink, typically one far too sweet for the messenger's taste. Now, however, what appeared to be nothing more than simple water poured from the oddly shaped plinth upon which the stone likeness was set. The sight of the statue itself left an unpleasant taste in the earth pony's mouth. The stories that had accompanied the primary message he now carried were numerous to say the least, with many of them completely contradicting one another. One fact seemed to be present in almost every version of the events that he had heard before leaving the north, however, and if it did indeed prove to be true, the fountain would likely soon be seen as a terrible caricature of the leader, rather then a testament to his glory.

Finally he made it to the staircase he had been searching for, a winding thing set deep in the natural walls of the Barricade. He climbed up and up, not daring to stop and catch his breath. His legs hurt, his throat burned, his lungs cried out for relief, but he ignored them all. None of it mattered, not anymore. All that remained was for him to deliver his message, then he could rest. He could go home, enjoy the comforts that his employers had provided him with, finish the book he had begun writing before he was called upon to serve his superiors. It wasn't much further, just a few more steps and he'd be at the top. He was so close, so very close to his destination. He rounded the last twist in the stairs and came upon a short hallway; a single door awaited him at the end of it, a single door which housed one of the most powerful members of the council, a single door that was closed to all but the most important visitors. One of the Elders dwelled just beyond that door, and only a fool would keep such a high-ranking member of the Council waiting.

The room was decorated in traditional fashion for members of the upper class; a comfortable little apartment carved into the living stone, made to resemble a cave but furnished with the finest luxuries money could buy. Couches and cushions lined lined the walls, ensuring there was always a pleasant spot to sit or lay down. Sturdy hardwood tables, counters, and desks were located at key points of the main room, all gilded and shined to a mirror finish. Warm rugs covered the floor, tapestries the walls, and the scent of incense hung heavy in the air. The earth pony entered and took in the sights as he caught his breath. They were all too familiar to him, the room and the creatures within it.

Three of them occupied the room this night, two adults and their young whelp, born less than a year prior. "Master..." They all turned their attention to the door as the earth pony made his presence known; the child cooed in its mothers arms as she stood, bowed, and took her leave, retiring to the nursery in the next room. The male turned from the map he had been studying at the desk in the far corner of the room. His body was that of an emaciated lion but with bat-like wings folded upon its back, a cobra's head was mounted atop its shoulders, and the barbed tail of a scorpion lay unfurled on the floor behind him, writhing about as he turned to face his guest. "... I bring word from the north. Grave news, I fear."

Serpentine eyes studied him from ears to hoofs, forked tongue darting out momentarily to taste the air around him. He strode forward, remaining bipedal as he had been standing for a few steps before dropping to all fours and approaching in a much more natural-looking fashion. His tail remained unfurled, dragging behind him across the fine chimeran rug that covered the floor near the chamber's entrance. He walked around the messenger once, eyeing him suspiciously before finally stepping back in front of him and embracing him. "It is good to see you again, my old friend. We have heard troubling things about the roads to the north; we were not entirely sure you would be able to return to us at all, much less in such a timely manner. Come in, sit down, your message can wait until you've gotten some water back in you; you look thirsty, and half-starved on top of it!" The chimera's voice was soft, charismatic as the whispering a of any serpent, but genuine in its concern. The messenger had learned that much, at least, when he first began his employment to the creature's noble house.

"I didn't take the roads, for that reason exactly. And I'll not decline water, m'lord, but I'm afraid the news cannot wait a moment longer." He would have gladly changed the subject if he could have, spoken of anything else in the world while enjoying the comfort of the councilor's hospitality. But he knew full well that the message would need to be delivered eventually, and he wanted it to be over and done with. "Your honor, the king is dead... This war is all but over. Your people are fleeing the north in fear of their lives. Thousands are attempting to make the same journey I just did, all of them seeking sanctuary in your city."

"Our city, Chagrin, not mine. I'm but one of many whose voice the council speaks with and I'll not have anyone forgetting that. And you are right, this is grave news. We had feared the worst had befallen the king, the signs are unmistakeable, but we were not so certain as to what fate that left our brethren to... Need I ask what army it was that dealt the final blow?"

"No army, m'lord, not a one could stand before His Grace. No, it was a champion, or a pair of them depending on what story you listen to, most seem to agree it was two but not all of them. They drove him back with the power of the gods themselves, turning the very elements against him."

"I see... A taste of his own medicine then... Did they survive? Or did his host strike them down after he fell?"

"Begging m'lord's pardon but, the host fell to bloody pieces in his absence. The chimera's fought on as long as they could but met only slaughter at the hoofs of the surviving battalions. The few dragons that remained were slain by the champions after His Grace was defeated, and the manticores... Poor retches had it worst of all. Something happened to their minds when the king met his end. They snapped, turned feral right in the ranks and began raking at anything they could reach, friend or foe alike. Some dark magic crafted by the younger champion, if the stories are to be believed. By all accounts, she's some spawn of the dark gods made flesh. And the older one... The stories circling about the cruelty of that one are haunting to say the least. And to think she's taken the symbol of the Life-Giver itself, its an outrage!"

The councilor was barely listening, he had gone back to his map, leaning over the great wooden desk with a paw on either side of the parchment. "The manticores are broken, then. The same thing happened within the city, we've had to round them all into holding cells for the time being.... Left as no more than ravenous beasts... And now the north-dwellers mean to seek refuge here, in our already over-populated little utopia..... Chagrin, make yourself at home, I shall be back momentarily. The other councilor's must be informed of this."

"Yes, m'lord. But, there is one last thing you should know. It concerns the alliances that once stood between the races that fought under His Grace. You see, when the armies of the Sun and the Moon descended upon his host, the only reason they were able to break his lines was because of a betrayal from within."

The chimera stopped at the door, his attention now fully focused on this newest bit of information. "What are you saying?"

"The champions offered an ultimatum to our king's forces, giving them one chance to change their allegiance and be spared from the fate of their leader. They just had to pledge themselves to the rebel cause and join the fight against what they viewed as the enemy of all of Equestria..."

"Who was it? Who betrayed us? Answer me, Chagrin, don't just talk me around in circles like this. Who abandoned our people?"

"...The griffons. The griffons have chosen to side with the enemy. They turned on our forces in the midst of battle and knelt to the usurpers the moment the battle was over."

He looked on for a moment before turning back to the door. "I see... Stay here, my friend, I will return shortly with the other council members. I expect you will be prepared to regale them all with the same tale you've just told me?"

"Of course, m'lord."

"Good, then I'll not wait a moment longer, the Council must know of this. Preparations need to be made." With that, he left the room and made his way down to the main hall to wake the others. Soon their order would need to come to a decision on how best to handle this turn of events, but that process could not begin until the were all informed of what had transpired in the north.

It was a few moments before the lady of the house returned from the nursery, the child tucked safely away in its cradle. She was built similarly to her husband, though her wings were feathered and her head was that of a canine. Slender and graceful, she slipped into the main room without a sound, seating herself on one of the large cushions across from the tattered earth pony. Her husband had left water and mugs on the table beside the messenger, one of which was already being used by the hard-run traveler. When he finally put his drink back down she decided it was time to get some answers of her own out of him. "You were in the north when our king was struck down, yes?" Her accent made her every word sound as though she were growling it through clenched teeth.

"I was, my lady. It was an awful little that tore through it, though the ponies who call it home seemed to have been able to shrug it all off quickly enough once it was over."

"And is it, do you think? Over, I mean. Has the war truly ended with the death of our ruler? Because, if I didn't know any better, I would think that you and my husband know something you are not sharing. That there was a deeper meaning behind your words than simply a story of loss and betrayal."

"What is it that you are asking me, ma'am?"

"Very simple, I am asking you what happens now? Now that the war to the north has come to an end, what happens to those of us who live here, in the homeland? What will become of the cities that once served as the one of his majesty's most loyal? Are we to expect that these rebels will simply allow us to go on living here? To continue raising our families in peace as if none of this ever happened?"

"I... I'm not certain I understand what you are asking, my lady. I am as much a loyalist as you, what makes you think I would have any more idea what they have in mind for us than you?"

"I do not doubt your loyalty, you have served my stand well for decades. But you were in the north, you were there when the war was lost... If you cannot tell me how they will treat our people here, just think back and tell me how they treated our brothers and sisters there."

Understanding suddenly dawned on him as he realized what it was she was asking. He hesitated, but in the end he knew lying to her would do nothing for him and would not change the facts of the matter. "It.... It was a massacre, my lady. The young, the old, everyone. The alicorns did not want to take chances with the possibility of an uprising after they had taken charge... Anyone who would not kneel was put down. Your people in the north, any who are not currently running here, are gone."

Author's Note:

First chapter seems to be done, the second will simply be the continuation of what just transpired in this one. Then we will likely hit a time skip in the chapter after that or the one following it where it will jump ahead a good hundred years or so. Eventually we will catch up to current day (where the show is) and then go beyond... For now though, before I get too far ahead of myself, I hope you all enjoy what this is and where its going. If any of you are unsure what it is this is all based on, I would advise you to go on youtube, look up "Something Wicked Trilogy," turn the volume up on your computer, and experience the first three songs of the original story in all their metallic glory.

Comments

[ArtoriasFlagg]

Hope you all enjoy this latest offering, I'm only a couple chapters in so far but its already quickly becoming one of my favorites to write. The second chapter should be posted a little later this week, got a few plotholes I have to go back and work out.... I know the fact that there are already continuity issues in just the second chapter might be a bad sign but its only because I'm attempting to cover a few thousand years of plotting and vengence into this... Should be fun

[ArtoriasFlagg]

For those unfamiliar with my other work, I generally try to update my stories every week or at least post some kind of timeframe and/or excuse for why there isn't a new chapter. There should be a newe chapter up by Sunday if I'm not horribly mistaken. Enjoy!

[ArtoriasFlagg]

Also for anyone who hasn't followed along with my other stories, understand that I am horrible with deadlines.... If I say a chapter will be ready one Sunday, expect it around 3am on Monday... My sincerest apologies...

[WhisperingShadow]

MY EYES MY EYES MAN!!!! SO MANY BLOCKS!!!!
My eyes just hurt from reading this chapter, its good yes, but...MY EYES!!!!!

[The Warmaster]

LLONG LIVE THE ORDER OF CHAOS!pre02.deviantart.net/1631/th/pre/f/2012/308/d/e/order_of_chaos_by_vexx3-d5jz1ts.png