Four words: Beserker pony in Ponyville. Every filly and colt knows the stories told at Hearth's Warming Eve. But what if the holiday tales don't tell the whole truth?
Four words: Beserker pony in Ponyville.
Every filly and colt knows the stories told at Hearth's Warming Eve. Of how the three pony tribes overcame their differences to understand the power of friendship, forming the state of Equestria. But what if the stories we hear don't tell the whole truth?
When Fluttershy saves a mysterious stallion from death, the Mane Six will learn of a more bloody past in pony history than originally thought. A story of loss, retribution, regret and redemption for one stallion of war trying to find purpose in a land of peace. But can anypony sooth the wrath of the Gullengrakr?
A story deriving from the thought, "Species facing starvation and imminent death simply talked their problems out?" This story contains violence and sexual references, but not extreme enough I felt to warrant a Mature tag. Please tell me if you feel otherwise. All criticism is welcome.
Edit: The chapters may be updated at times to improve quality, as I really wish for this to be a good piece.
“Grandfather, why couldn’t you have stayed in the house where you belong? You know your back has not healed fully from harvest.”
“Hold your tongue, young filly! I may be aged but I am still the patriarch of this clan, and you will show me the respect that is owed that title, you and your brother both.”
They were at it again. Faelan could only shake his head as his sister Gredal bucked heads with the elder Lachlann Grey-Mane, godfather and patriarch of his branch of the Grey-Mane clan. He was a tough old pony, wrought in the bitter colds of the Grey-Mane homelands, but his sister was also tough…and had a point. This winter season was setting up to be the harshest in recent memory and the old stallion’s injuries could be aggravated by the cold. He turned to the old pony, “You know I could handle the wood gathering myself. I am not a little colt anymore. There is no loss in honor of recovering from past wounds to be at your strongest.”
“Bah! It will take more than a mere aching back to put me to pasture! I am not some milk-drinker like those shiftless Black-Mares. I have worked these lands since your father Omarr was just a foal, and I will not be coddled by my own offspring. Horden may be the patron god of farmers, but he does not simply give to the lazy.”
Faelan just sighed with resignation. There was no winning with the stubborn mule. So, with mule and sister in tow, Faelan went out to the fields to start on the day’s chores.
He was a strong stallion, built like the great ancestors of old, or so his grandfather claimed. He towered over most other ponies, and was broad in the chest; a true visage of earth pony hardiness. He had a deep brown coat, grown shaggy to accommodate the harsh climate of his home. He might not have been the prettiest pony in the stable, but he was definitely the most rugged. His mane fell about him with the color of wheat and his eyes shone blue as the deepest mountain loch. But, for all his strength and ruggedness there was one thing that still haunted the great stallion; his blank flank.
Faelan feared he was the oldest pony to still not have a cutie mark anywhere. He had not traveled too often into the village, but from what he saw only the youngest fillies and colts still lacked cutie marks. He had tried his hand at many hobbies, but all attempts had ended the same.
He had thought at one time that he may be a bard after singing at the annual Fall Harvest Festival. The event brought all the earth ponies on the neighboring farms to the village to celebrate the year’s harvest with songs, dance and drink, and was one of the few times Faelan got to meet the neighboring ponies. It was always a joy to shrug off the hardships of the farm, even if just for a few days. Some of the traveling minstrels had taken a shine to him after he demonstrated his vocal abilities, teaching him new songs from the other clans and villages. He had to admit, it did give him something to open with to the mares there, especially when she showed up…
“You thinking about that mare again, huh Faelan?” his sister teased. “Perhaps you should stop singing and dancing with her and finally get to courting her.”
Faelan had not even noticed that he was blushing. To keep embarrassing himself further he looked up to the sky as a distraction. Clouds were forming along the mountains that looked to bring more ill-will to their lands. Faelan sighed, “It does not look good for us this winter.”
“Horden will see us through. He has provided for us in the past, and he will continue to provide as long as we stay steady as the mountains,” the elder stallion said with the zeal of one who grew up worshipping the old gods of the earth ponies.
“It would be easier if all we worked for wasn’t taken from under our hooves by those ponies who feel it beneath them to work the soil,” Faelan said, bitterness dripping from his tongue. With the weather taking a turn for the worst stories were coming in of neighboring crops coming to naught. It had been a struggle to scrap together a meager harvest for his father Omarr to take to market. The pegasi claim they can control the weather, Faelan thought to himself, but do nothing to end our plight. And yet they still demand the same tribute, they and the unicorns both.
“Somepony should do something about that. Show those boastful pegasi what true courage is like, and those uppity unicorns can starve in their castles for all the good they’ve done us. Raising the sun and moon; controlling the weather; this land has been the land of Stendarr, Horden and Freyan for generations, and it is high time we earth ponies bring back the old ways!”
“Grandfather, that is madness,” Gredal cried with earnest. “Kadall and Ulfen have already sneaked away to join the militias. Do you wish Mother’s last son to be taken away as well?”
“Conflict is nearly inevitable at this point, child. Those other tribes will never leave us be. We will need strong bucks like your brother ready to fight if we wish to truly see peace.”
“Enough! Both of you,” Faelan interjected. “I have been given responsibility for this home while Father is away and I will see that he is not disappointed.”
With that all ponies fell silent. Gredal went to the chicken coops to mend the frames and collect any eggs, while the two stallions continued to the wood clearing. Faelan unharnessed his ax and proceeded to chop the wood needed to hold winter’s bite at bay. Gripping the ax in his two hooves, he drove it deep into the wood with practiced aim. Some ponies considered his method of using both hooves odd, considering the way it forced him to balance on his two hind legs. But to him it felt right, and it gave him more leverage for the swing.
He had just finished loading another cart for his grandfather when he noticed those clouds from earlier had moved faster than he had expected. He also smelled something on the air that didn’t seem quite right. In fact, it smelled like…smoke. Looking in the direction of the next village he thought he could see the glow of a fire; a massive fire by that distance. He was about to say something about it to his grandfather when he noticed specks starting to descend from the clouds. He couldn’t be sure, but they looked to have wings…and they were headed for the farmhouse!
“Pegasi…” the old stallion whispered. “Go ahead young one. You need to see to the marefolk. I’ll catch up with you. These old bones don’t move like they used to.”
Putting the ax back in its harness, Faelan began to gallop back to the house. He had a bad feeling about this. What could the pegasi want with their farm? Did it have anything to do with that glow in the distance? If that glow truly was a fire, then that meant…
Faelan pushed himself to his limit to reach the farm. He had almost made it when he heard a scream of terror pierce the calm of the farm.
“Gredal!”
Hooves pounding as fast as he could push them, he heard the screams again. He could see them now. Three pegasi were standing about his sister. They were equipped with their signature armor. Worked steel breastplates adorned their chests and their horsehair crested helmets crowned their heads. Each carried a short lance and shield strapped to their flanks. Two of them had his sister pinned down while the third loomed over her menacingly.
“I’ve never had earth pony before. I wonder if they are as dirty on the inside as they are on the out.”
“No, no, NO!”
But Gredal’s pleas went unanswered. The pegasus penetrated her and went to his business. Faelan could only watch in horror at the sight of his sister being raped before his eyes, her every cry for mercy just bringing greater bouts of laughter from her tormentors.
Faelan didn’t know what to do. He was a strong buck to be sure, but these were fully equipped, fully trained warrior ponies. Fear was holding him back, but something else was building inside, something that clawed to be freed. It felt like a smoldering flame that was slowly building, threatening to burn him from the inside if it wasn’t released. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d taken the wood ax out of its holster. How dare they do this to his people, to his family, to his sister!
His heart rate quickened; his grip tightened. He could feel his mind clouding, filling with thoughts he didn’t even know he had. He felt the burning throughout his limbs, itching to be unleashed or pull itself apart. He could hear himself growling in the base of his throat, but he barely noticed anything anymore. He saw nothing but the red mist now.
DESTROY THEM.
With a blood-curdling roar Faelan descended upon the pegasi with ax raised. The pegasi turned to see the source of this disturbance only to be met with the sight of what looked to them to be a demon from beyond oblivion. He brought his ax down on the first pegasus he could reach, nearly splitting the pegasus from collar bone to hip. The rending of flesh, steel and bone rang like melodies in his ears.
The other pegasus hesitated only a moment before letting loose Faelan’s sister to strike with his lance. He only lasted mere moments before his skull was crushed with one kick from Faelan’s hind leg. What good were those helmets if they don’t protect your face?
The third one, the one who had been taking his pleasure from Gredal, now found himself alone against this assailant. Years of drill and training slipped away as he was locked motionless with fear. Faelan kicked him to the ground, placing a hoof at the square of his back. The pegasus’ wings were flapping wildly with panic, vainly attempting to escape this onslaught. Faelan gripped both wings and began to pull. This bastard deserved something special.
“Please, stop!” the pegasus screamed in horror.
“I wonder how well a pegasus can fly without its wings,” Faelan sneered, his voice sounding like another pony’s in his own ears. And with one last heave he tore the wings from the pony’s back. Blood and marrow poured from the wound as bone, ligament and flesh was torn apart. Faelan stepped away from his victim to watch as the pony went unconscious from the pain. He would die soon.
Faelan could feel the blood on his coat; he could smell the blood on his hooves. It made him feel warm despite the frigid cold. He had never felt such a rush, such strength. He felt like he could do anything.
His new found revelry was cut short by the sounds of weeping behind him. He turned to see his sister sobbing uncontrollably on the ground, shaking in pure terror.
“It’s fine now, sister. They can't hurt you anymore.”
He started to move to her, but she started to shake even harder, scratching at anyplace that took her away from him. He stopped. The way she was staring at him made it clear. She was afraid…of him? He turned around; looking at the scene he had created. The mangled bodies littered the ground, staining the ground with their life’s blood. What had he done? What had he become?
He felt sick. He wanted to wretch, but he knew if the pegasi had attacked here they must have attacked the farmhouse. He put the ax back in its holster and ran as fast as hooves could carry him. Any excuse to get him away from what he had done.
But he was too late. The door sat ajar and he could smell the stench of death emanate from inside. But he needed to be sure.
Going through the doorway, Faelan was greeted by the sight of his now dead aunt Claire. As bad as that was, it was not what his mind was focused on now. What had his attention were the moans of pain coming from a mangled body in the corner of the house. Moving to where it was, Faelan was stunned with horror when he realized who the mangled body was.
It was his mother! Her body was beaten and torn to pieces, her sobs coming between ragged gasps for air. Seeing a kitchen knife on the floor, Faelan realized she must have resisted. She had several stab wounds in her chest from what he knew must have been the pegasi lances, and bruises adorned her everywhere. Picking her up as softly as he could, he laid her down to look up at him. He could barely recognize her, and it was obvious she was in agonizing pain but too weak to cry anymore.
“Mother, please tell me you’re going to be fine. Please, just say something.”
Her eyes looked glazed, not seeing much of anything through the pain. But Faelan thought she looked at him for a split-second, jaws working to produce any sound. But all that came forth was a whisper too incoherent to understand.
It tore him up inside. Here was his mother, the mare that gave him life, bleeding in his arms, too far gone to have any hope of saving now. For all his strength he felt powerless to stop his mother’s pain, to just make it stop. He knew he was crying now and did not know what else to do. That’s when he caught the sight of his ax reflecting in the sunlight. It beckoned to him.
Flashes of what had happened just minutes ago were coming back to him now, like something from a dream…or a nightmare. He recoiled at the thought, wanting nothing to do with what he had done, what he was now considering doing. He looked down at his mother. She looked back up at him, a pleading look on her face. She tried to speak but all that came forth was unintelligible gurgles. As much as it hurt, he knew what the merciful thing to do was.
Pulling the ax from its harness, Faelan readied the blade. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he took one last look into his mother’s eyes.
“I love you, Mom”
“…”
The ax came down, cleaving the neck and vertebrae in one clean strike. Marelynn’s head rolled onto the floor and her body finally went limp, able to feel pain no more. Faelan looked on at what he had done, emotions twisting around inside. First his sister and now his mother. It was like a nightmare that wouldn’t stop.
He could no longer hold it in, and began to heave uncontrollably. He had murdered three ponies and committed matricide, all in the space of a few minutes. He didn’t know who he was anymore. His throes of sorrow were such that he did not hear his grandfather come through the door.
“So it is true. You are one of Stendarr’s chosen.”
Faelan turned to see what his grandfather meant when he saw it. On the thigh of his hind legs sat his cutie mark. Well, to call it a cutie mark would be the most ironic use of wordplay he could imagine. It had two piercing red eyes atop a maw displaying an unsettling collection of canines. It stared defiantly back at him, an image of pure rage.
Faelan recognized that mark from his grandfather’s stories. It was a thing of legend, a story dating back to the barbarian clans of the ancient earth ponies. It was the mark of the Gullengrakr, those believed to be Stendarr’s chosen. Those whose thirst for violence and whose brutality in battle made them unstoppable. And he was one of them.
Faelan did not even look up from his sobs. He could not bear to meet the old stallion’s gaze. Lachlann, on the other hand, walked to an inconspicuous part of the floor. Swiping away the hay revealed a trap door that Faelan had never noticed before. Pulling the chain handle with his teeth and throwing open the door, the old stallion reached into the hidden cache to pull an old crate that looked to have been hidden there for years.
An old rusted lock adorned the latch, but the elder pony pulled out a key from around his neck, placing it into the keyhole. With a slight grunt, and the clack of gears not use to the disturbance, the lock gave way. Lachlann opened the chest and pulled out a mysterious old relic from within. The elder pony turned to Faelan, and with one fluid motion unsheathed the weapon.
Faelan had never seen an instrument like it before. It was easily three times the length of any knife he had ever seen and it was sharpened on both sides. Runes ran along its length which he guessed could only be the old tongue. And at the base of the grip was inscribed the Grey-Mane clan’s insignia.
“What is it, grandfather?”
“It is the family’s sword, a weapon from the times before the lands were settled and earth ponies had to fight to survive among the wilds. It has been passed down through generations of our family, waiting for the time when it would be needed again. Stendarr has chosen you, young Faelan. You must heed his call. Take this sword and do our clan and people proud.”
And with that the elderly stallion presented the blade to the young Faelan. The young pony gripped the terrible thing in his hooves, knowing it was too late to turn back now. Placing it into his harness, Faelan gave his grandfather a quick bow before turning to walk out the door. He feared he would never see his home again; that he would never see what was left of his family again.
While walking out the door he was greeted by the sight of his sister. She looked ragged; her clothes torn, her hair a mess and her cheeks stained from all the tears. Her eyes still had the fear from earlier, the horror of what he had done. Faelan seemed to shrink under her gaze, knowing he would never look the same in her eyes...or in his own. He simply turned away to face what his future had in store. He was almost out of earshot when he heard a cry coming from behind.
“Big brother!”
Faelan stopped in his tracks. Gredal had not spoken to him like that in years, so quick she was to grow up. With a glance back he saw that she had galloped after him. She looked at him flatly, with a new determination in her eyes.
“Kill them…kill them all.”
“…I will, sister. I promise.”
Author's Note: I uploaded an edited version. After seeing the ratings I felt this needed better pacing. Also would like to give credit to Defenastrator for reading and editing my story.
Fluttershy was so excited, she felt like shouting. Well, almost felt like shouting. It was the first day of summer, and she and her friends had planned to celebrate by going out for a picnic. Spring was a nice season to be sure, but harvest time had Applejack busy at the farm while the weather transition from winter had herself and Rainbow Dash busy with the animals and weather, respectfully.
Fluttershy just needed to get a few chores done around the house and then she would be on her way. “Okay Angel, why don’t you go put the food together in the basket while I get the animals penned for the day?”
The hardnosed little bunny gave her a stare of frustration, but with a sigh turned to complete the task, mumbling about, what Fluttershy heard as, him being the only one who got things done around the place. She smiled. He may act tough, but he was a good little helper…and so cute.
Flying about her place, Fluttershy checked on all the animals. The sheep were all in their pens, good. All the birds were in their homes and trees, check. Goats, ganders, and mice; check, check and double check. All that was left were the chickens.
Humming to herself, she entered the chicken coop. “How are we all today?” she asked, checking to make sure they were comfortable. They clucked with their thanks in agreement; they were such good chickens. “Let’s see…one, two, three, four, fiv…uh oh. Where’s mister Cluckintine?”
She looked about the coop, but he was nowhere to be seen. Following his tracks lead her to a hole in the chicken wire. “Oh no,” she gasped, “I thought I fixed that back when the Cutie Mark Crusaders were here!” This was not good. She feared mister Cluckintine must have wandered into the Everfree Forest. Oh, why did she have to live so close to there?
Mustering what little courage she had, she made her way into the forest. “Here mister Cluckintine…here chicki-chicken. Where are-eep!” she squealed at a rustling behind her. This place is creepy even in the daytime, she thought to herself. But she had to push on.
After scaring herself a few times with her own shadow and a broken twig here and there, she finally found a trail of chicken tracks. She must be getting close, and not a moment too soon. That’s when she heard something in the distance.
“ARRRRRGHH!”
She was about to hoof it out as fast as she could when she realized that wasn’t an animal call. That was a cry for help from a pony! But, what pony would be this deep into Everfree Forest, Fluttershy thought.
“GUNTHER!”
No matter, somepony was in trouble. She may not be a brave pony, but she couldn’t ignore somepony in trouble, and it might be too late if she ran back for help. Galloping and pushing her way through the brush, she made her way to where the calls were coming from. She stopped dead in her tracks when she came upon the source of the cries.
There in the clearing stood two stallions surrounded by a pack of timber wolves. One of the stallions was standing over the other, holding what looked to Fluttershy like an overly-long knife, trying to fend off five hungry-looking timber wolves from his fallen compatriot. Fluttershy noticed that nearly a dozen other timber wolves lay dead or bleeding around the two ponies, but surely they couldn’t have fought them all?
As she watched, two of the timber wolves lunged at the stallion with the long knife. He punctured one of them through the throat, but the other latched onto his leg. Bringing his leg up, the stallion threw the timber wolf to the ground, crushing it under his stout hoof. But he was bleeding badly and looked to be at the end of his rope when the other three wolves moved to end the fight. Fluttershy knew it was now or never. She just hoped she knew what she was doing.
Faelan couldn’t believe this was going to be the end. Out of all the battles he’d been in, of all the pegasi, unicorns, and other creatures he had felled, he was going to die to a pack of wolves. They had gotten careless. He knew he could heal himself if given the chance to Feed, but the wolves had kept coming, seemingly out of nowhere. Now he couldn’t even protect his last brother-in-arms, much less himself.
He dropped to his knees with family sword drawn as the last of his sight clouded due to the blood loss. At least, he thought, I can die with sword in hoof like a true warrior. But just when the wolves were about to make the final blow a yellow blur came in and stopped in front of him.
“Please stop!” it called out.
Faelan couldn’t believe it, but the wolves held back. He had been saved, but by who or what? He was about to speak, but he knew he had no energy left. The last thing Faelan saw looked like a young yellow mare with a pink mane as he finally lost consciousness.
“Oh, please be okay.” Checking the pony that had fallen first, she was disheartened to find that it was too late for him. It was with a glad heart that she found the other pony still breathing; unconscious, but still alive. He was also still clutching that weird-looking knife in his hoof. I guess it must be important to him, she thought.
If she could at least get him to the edge of the forest she could go get her friends to help bring him to a hospital. Taking the knife in her mouth, she hefted the stallion onto her back and began to walk out of the forest. Or crawl, more or less; this stallion was heavy.
With the crisis over, Fluttershy finally had some time to get a better look at the stallion. He was rather tall and heavy set, as her back muscles kept telling her, putting her in mind of Big Macintosh. His blonde mane was braided to one side with an iron lock and he had a short beard that she noticed was also braided. Odd, she thought, since when do colts braid their hair? He had a brown, shaggy coat and was wearing thick fur hind-boots, which seemed to indicate to Fluttershy that he must come from a colder part of Equestria.
However, that’s where the familiarities ended. He wore these metal galoshes that seemed to cover his front hooves. She noticed with horror that he wore a skinned bear belt over his back, but for what purpose one would skin a harmless little bear was beyond her. His body, below the tears and scraps from earlier, also appeared to have tattoos painted into his coat. They were blue and raced around in strange and intricate patterns that Fluttershy found hard to look at for any extended period of time.
But that wasn’t even the scariest part. Where a cutie mark should be was a creepy image that defied being called a cutie mark. It was red and looked to be a visage of a rabid animal. What could such a cutie mark mean, and did she really want to find out? Where could such a scary pony come from? Fluttershy knew she needed to get him to care, but she would be glad not to be around when he woke up.
Twilight Sparkle trotted down the streets of Ponyville with a purpose. She had been in the middle of preparing for the picnic today by choosing a good book to read on such a lovely day when Rainbow Dash had nearly crashed through her door in her haste. Apparently Fluttershy had found a mysterious stallion like nopony had ever seen before in critical condition in the Everfree Forest and had carried him by herself to safety. Twilight was on her way to join her and Applejack at the hospital when a familiar pink earth pony came bouncing out of Sugarcube Corner.
“Hey Twilight, where you off to in such a big hurry? You know the picnic isn’t for another hour, unless you all decided to make it earlier, which I can totally understand on such a BEAUTIFUL day. I mean how many times does the first day of summer come around? But that means you left your goodies at home! Don’t worry I’ll just grab some from…” the hyperactive Pinkie Pie went on.
“Pinkie! It’s not any of those things. Fluttershy and Applejack are at the hospital after…”
“WHAT! Are they hurt?! Where did it happen? TELL ME!”
“Whoa…easy Pinkie, they’re fine. They’re at the hospital because they found a wounded pony in the Everfree Forest. He was severely injured, so they had to carry him to the care center and I’m on my way to join them. You could come, too, if you want. This pony might need all the well-wishers he can get.”
“*Gasp* That means there’s a new pony in town, and you know what that means!” Pinkie Pie said with a gleam in her eyes.
“Pinkie Pie! This pony is in critical care! The last thing he needs is some crazy welcome party while he is in the hospital.”
“Well, duhhhh. That’s why I’m going to throw him a get-well-soon party and invite every pony in Ponyville to wish him well! He’ll be so grateful he’s bound to heal super-duper quickly and then we can throw him a welcome-to-Ponyville party! Two parties! I better get to inviting all the ponies right now!”
And with that Ponyville’s famous party pony dashed away in a pink blur. Twilight just had to shake her head. Well that’s Pinkie for you, she mused, able to find a reason to celebrate no matter the situation. Walking into the hospital, she was greeted by the sight of her friend Applejack in the waiting room, her hat in her hooves and a grim look on her face.
“Hey, Applejack. What does it look like so far?”
“Aw, it ain’t lookin’ too good, Twi. He was mighty beat up when last I saw him. Queerest-lookin’ pony I ever did see, though. Got these weird markings all over ‘imself. But I guess ya need to see fer yourself.”
“Okay, I’ll go check in with the doctor.” Looking around Twilight noticed somepony was missing. “Hey, where’s Fluttershy?”
“Oh, she’s in the little filly’s room. Gotta hand it to her, though; goin’ into the Everfree Forest on her own like that. Carried the big guy herself until I came along. He sure was heavy, even with the two of us.”
“Well, I guess I just need to take a look at this mysterious stallion. Oh, and if a crowd of ponies start flooding into the room, don’t be surprised.”
“Pinkie Pie?”
“Pinkie Pie.”
Making her way past the receptionist, Twilight was introduced to Dr. Ever-Ready or Dr. ER for short. She walked over to a window overlooking the operating room and finally got a glimpse of the mysterious painted stallion. Applejack was right; he was a sight to see. Turning to Dr. ER Twilight asked, “How is he, doctor?”
“Well, his vitals have stabilized and we’ve cleaned and bandaged the wounds. A lesser stallion would have probably died from the shock.”
Turning to Twilight, he continued, “It’s actually a good thing you arrived, Twilight Sparkle. Your knowledge of abstract trivia may prove useful. You see, he’s like no other pony I’ve ever seen before. The marks on his body are quite evident, but while operating I noticed they seemed to be imbued into his coat, almost like a part of him. Also, my unicorn assistants couldn’t seem to use their magic on his body, so we were forced to do the whole operation by hoof. I didn’t know if it might be some kind unicorn magic of some kind, if that is what you think?”
Twilight furrowed her brow in thought. “It’s true that unicorns sometimes use runes or enchantments on objects, but none of my studies have suggested such things could be done to living creatures. Such research was considered too dangerous to pursue, not to mention the ethical issues.”
“Well, that wasn’t the only peculiar feature we observed. We noticed that he had set of upper and lower canines in his jaw, much like a carnivorous animal. We didn’t know whether to chalk it up to a genetic abnormality or whether he is some kind of obscure species of pony.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never read of any such occurrences in any of my books. I could see if I could get Princess Celestia to allow me into the royal library to do some research on the subject. If there’s anywhere in Equestria that has a book with the information it’s Canterlot.”
“Thank you, Twilight. It will be good to have all the information possible on such a patient. Don’t worry, though, he won’t be moving for awhile yet.”
Twilight looked back at their mystery pony. She had a lot of research to do and a letter to the Princess to write. It was then that she noticed the stallion begin to move. “I think he’s awake. I think…wait a minute. What is he doing with the blood pack? Is he…?” Twilight trailed off.
Dr. ER moved to an intercom switch. “Nurses to the operating room, stat!”
Faelan could hardly move when he awoke. Looking over himself, he saw that he was nearly wrapped head to hoof in bandages. He tried to think back, but the only thing that came to him was the image of that yellow mare with the pink mane. I better find her to honor her deed, he thought to himself.
Looking over to his left he noticed a bag of blood that seemed to be connected to his body via a tube. Reaching up, he took the bag, tore it open with his teeth and began to drink the contents. Not as good or as enjoyable as a proper Feeding, but it would get the job done. The runes on his body began to glow red and morph while he felt his limbs begin to mend themselves. The experience always carried a certain amount of pain, but after centuries of practice he hardly noticed anymore.
He had just about finished when three ponies barged into the room, all wearing funny-looking white attire. The eldest pony, a blue stallion with a graying mane, exclaimed, “What do you think you are doing?! Nurses, hold him down!”
Faelan reasoned this must be the village healer and probably one of the elders. Shaking the kinks from laying down so long, he forced his body off the table, shrugging off the bandages and the weak mares’ attempts to get him back onto the table. Seeing his body no longer marred with the scars from earlier, their attempts ceased and they simply stood staring in disbelief.
The elder pony began to stammer, “I-I-I’ve never seen anything like this. How did you…?”
“Forgive me healer. I sometimes forget how long it has been since another pony has witnessed a Feeding. I assure you that I pose no threat to you or your village. I simply wish to take my things and leave. So, if you could return me my clothes and weapons I will leave this village without another word.”
“Well…okay. Follow me then.” And with that the elder pony dismissed the two mares and turned down, what looked to Faelan like, a room connecting many more rooms.
Faelan followed the pony down the halls to a room containing his equipment. After fitting himself back into his harness and placing his sword back into its sheath he turned to the doctor and said, “Many thanks to you healer. Before I go I wish to ask, do you know the name of a yellow mare with a pink mane?”
“Oh! You must mean Fluttershy. Yes, she’s in the waiting room at the end of the hall if you wish to thank her. Um…before you go I wish to ask something of you. What was that you did back there?”
Faelan looked him dead in the eye and stated, “It is called the Feeding, and that is all you need to know.” With that Faelan turned away to leave, but was stopped by the sight of a purple mare entering the room…a purple unicorn!
The small pony looked up to him and put out a hoof. “Hello, my name is Twilight Sparkle. Let me be the first to congratulate you on such a…speedy recovery.” It seemed to look him up and down, trying to size him up. “What a very…interesting get up you have. Might I know your name?”
Faelan stared the small pony down. Turning to the elder he asked, “Healer, why does this slave insist on talking to me? And why hasn’t its horn been removed?”
The purple unicorn seemed to take offense at this, shouting, “Slave! Such practices have never been used in Equestria or anywhere I know! Only the most ancient records even mention such an institution. Where are you from that such a despicable practice is used?” it said with much heat in its voice.
Faelan was confused. He had assumed with the elder healer being an earth pony that he was in friendly territory. If this wasn’t an earth pony village, then it must be a unicorn settlement! That would explain the odd halls and the odd clothing. He turned to the elder pony and, grabbing him by the hoof, threw him over his back. “Hold on healer! I’m going to save you from your unicorn masters!” He may not be able to save every earth pony in the building, but he could get the elder healer to safety.
Faelan charged the small unicorn. It seemed dumbfounded at the thought of him running her down and tried to use its magic on him. He felt the pain of the absorbed magic radiate throughout his body. This must be a truly powerful wizard; the pain had nearly stopped him in his tracks. But it was too late as he kicked her to the side like a sack of potatoes. He had nearly reached the end of that impossibly long hall when the elder pony began to pitch a fit.
“Put me down! What are you doing?!”
“I’m saving you from your prison. I’ll get you out of here and back to an earth pony village with your kinsmen.”
“What are you talking about, prison? This is my home. I’m not being held here, I live here!”
The unicorns must have used their magic to warp his mind. Perhaps another healer could fix him. Faelan now saw what looked to him to be an exit to this impossibly large building. Bursting through the door, he was greeted by the sight of an orange earth pony wearing an odd hat.
Looking at him wide-eyed the orange mare exclaimed, “What in tarnation is goin’ on here!?”
“Follow me kinsman. I’m breaking out of this unicorn stronghold.”
“Uhhh, you’re doin’ what now?”
“No time to explain. I’ll cut a path for you to follow.” And with that Faelan burst through the door that he reasoned was the exit, welcoming the embrace of daylight. However, that was not the only thing waiting for him on the outside.
Staring at him were nearly three dozen pairs of eyes from what he figured had to be the entire population of the village. But to his horror he saw not only unicorns, but pegasi and earth ponies as well. What was going on?
Before he could react a pink earth pony with perhaps the most ridiculous cutie mark he had ever seen came up and started shouting. “Oh, hi there! I’m Pinkie Pie. You must be the spooky mystery stallion everypony keeps talking about. You must be ‘cause I’ve never seen you before, I know everypony in Ponyville, which means you must be new! I had gotten everypony to wish you well, and it must’ve worked ‘cause you’re all better, and we didn’t even need to wish you well. You must’ve been extra super-duper grateful for it to work so fast. Hey, why do you have Dr. ER on your back? Are we playing a game, because I love games, especially PARTY games!”
Faelan didn’t know what to do. All those eyes were staring at him. He knew he could easily slaughter the entire village, but what would that accomplish if he didn’t know why his kinsmen were living alongside their mortal enemies. Unless…
“No…it can’t be.” He now feared for the worst. He knew the three tribes had convened to settle matters long ago, but the chancellor couldn’t have possibly sold out his fellow earth ponies, could he?
“What can’t be what?” the pink pony inquired.
Bucking the healer off his back, Faelan shoved the earth pony to the ground as he prepared for what he must do. The chancellor may have surrendered like a coward, but not him!
“Hey! That hurt you know!”
“ENOUGH! If my fellow earth ponies have chosen to surrender themselves to a life of slavery to the unicorns and pegasi here, then they have thrown away all honor! I will raze this village to the ground, even if I have to tear it down brick by brick!”
At this the villagers began to scream and panic. Such spineless curs, he thought. A few stallions took a step towards him motioning that they would protect their gutless marefolk. Two began to rush him, but he dispatched them effortlessly with two kicks to their legs, snapping the joints like twigs. A pegasus then flew by attempting to throw him off balance. Faelan relished the moment when he caught the pegasus’ wing in his teeth and dragged the bastard to the ground.
He was about to cave the pony’s head in when a lasso wrapped around his hoof in mid-strike. Turning his gaze, he caught sight of the orange earth pony from before, when he then caught sight of the other pony next to her. It was the yellow mare from before in the forest!
The orange one spoke, “Hold on there, partner! I don’t know what the fuss is about, but we can’t have ya goin’ around beatin’ up every pony in Ponyville.” She looked around seeing all the other ponies running in panic. “What in Equestria did ya do to them?”
Now the yellow mare started to speak, in a voice barely above a whisper. “Please, no more fighting! I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. There’s no reason for anypony to get hurt.”
Faelan brought his foot down gently, backing away from the other injured stallions. He slowly made his way over to the two mares and stood before the yellow one. Bowing his head he asked, “Are you the one they call Fluttershy?”
“Y-y-y-yes.”
“Then you are the one I owe my life to. It would be my honor to…” he trailed off. Looking down at her he couldn’t believe his eyes. She had wings! She was a pegasus! He had his life saved by a pegasus, his sworn enemy!
But, how had he not notice before? Wait…back in the forest she had ran in front of him. He didn’t remember hearing the flapping of wings. That’s why he didn’t notice before! By the gods, he owed blood debt to a pegasus!
“No! This is not how it is meant to be!” he fumed. He felt the anger building inside. He could crush her right here, it would be so easy. But he owed blood debt; his honor demanded it be repaid.
The yellow pegasus was now cowering behind her orange companion, who honestly wasn’t faring much better. Gathering his composure he tried to make his voice as even as he could manage. “Fluttershy, may I speak with you. On my honor I will not harm you if you don’t give me reason to.”
Poking her head out the little pony squeaked in that impossibly soft voice of hers, “W-wa-what d-do you want?”
“You have saved my life when it was not your duty to do so. You are one of my sworn enemies, thus your mercy leaves me owing you blood debt in return. Stendarr the Righteous, all-father of the earth ponies, demands all debts be paid, for his is the path of justice. I offer my services to you, and will pledge my life until the blood debt is repaid in your service.”
“Oh no, that won’t be necessary. I just did what any pony would have done. There’s no need for…”
“You DARE refuse my offer!” Faelan bellowed. “You shame me yet again, pegasus! If you will not allow me to regain my honor by fulfilling the blood debt then I will take it from you on the field of battle!”
At this the orange pony turned to her friend, exclaiming, “Just agree to the fella’s offer Fluttershy, or he’s fixin’ to burn down all of Ponyville!”
“Um…okay. I accept. Just, please, don’t hurt anypony else, if that’s okay with you.”
Faelan let out a sigh. By the gods, he was going to regret this, but Stendarr sees all. “Then I, Faelan, son of Omarr, of the Grey-Mane clan, in the presence Stendarr, do pledge my services to you, lady Fluttershy, as your huscarl. I pledge to protect your person and all that you possess until my blood debt be repaid or until death take me in your service.” Drawing his sword, he placed it at Fluttershy’s feet, “My sword is yours.”
The orange pony turned to her friend, “Well, congrats Fluttershy. Ya got a crazy tattooed stallion at yer beck n’ call, who will probably be sleepin’ over at your place tonight if I miss mah guess.”
“Eep!” And with that Fluttershy fainted.
“Was it somethin’ I said?”
Faelan looked to the sky. The gods sure had a terrible sense of humor.
Faelan could not believe it. Not only was he in a village of unknown allegiance, stranded who knows how far from any earth pony territory, but he had now sworn his life away to a pegasus so timid he thought he might break her if he shouted too loudly. He would have been better off had the yellow mare left him to die in that forest than suffer this humiliation. Wait a minute…the forest! Faelan had a comrade to save!
He was about to turn to go search for his fallen brother when out the corner of his eye he saw a rainbow streak heading towards him at breakneck speeds. He only just stepped out of the way to avoid his assailant, who came to a screeching stop. Faelan now got a good look at what he saw to be a cyan blue pegasus with an unkempt rainbow mane, staring daggers at him.
The mare snorted at him, “What’s the big idea, bub?! You looking for a fight, ‘cause nobody hurts MY friends!” It looked over the injured ponies from earlier before passing its gaze over the fainted Fluttershy. “What did you do Fluttershy?”
“Simmer down now, Rainbow Dash,” Applejack cried, “He didn’t do nothin’ to her. She just got scared is all.”
“Yeah right! And I guess he had nothing to do with those other ponies over there either?”
“Well…ughhh”
“That’s it! He’s mine!” And with that she charged headlong at him, her wings propelling her at unnatural speeds.
Faelan once again dodged the charge, but saw her sweep a turn that would break the back of most other pegasi. This pegasus is fast, he thought, she might have been able to rival General Hurricane back in the day. But she was reckless and untrained. Faelan anticipated the next charge and planted a hoof square into the mare’s jaw, sending her tumbling head over heels into the dirt. He moved with practiced efficiency, ready to finish the job when he heard a cry over his shoulder.
“Stop!”
Faelan turned to see Fluttershy, panting as if that shout required all of her strength to utter. He stood poised over the beaten mare but did not move a muscle as the yellow pony ran over to them.
“Please stop. I mean…she’s my friend, so if you could just please back up, if you don’t mind. Um…” she started to stammer as he stared back down at her, his full size now looming over her.
He had no choice. As much as he wished to give this pegasus what she and her kind deserved, he had given an oath; and Grey-Manes always fulfill their promises. “As you command, my lady,” he said, sarcasm dripping from the honorific. “However, perhaps you should tell your pegasus friend not to pick fights she cannot win. It’s much easier that way.”
At that point Rainbow Dash had recovered enough to be helped up. Spitting out a little blood, she looked to Fluttershy and gaped. “You know this madpony?” Then, turning her head to him, she puffed up her chest and declared, “And what do you mean fights I can’t win, huh?! I was just getting warmed up!”
Applejack just rolled her eyes at the bleeding pegasus. “His name’s Fay-line, or somthin’ fancy-like. And he…uh. What would ya call it? Swore an oath or somethin’ like to be Fluttershy’s bodyguard or somethin’?”
“I am Faelan,” he stated to Rainbow Dash. “I swore an oath in the presence of Stendarr to become Fluttershy’s huscarl, to protect her and all she owns in order to repay her mercy in saving my life. I am obligated to obey her commands until my oath is fulfilled. Including not tearing you apart, you filthy pegasus.”
“WHAT did you call me?!”
Applejack couldn’t believe her ears. “What in the hay ya go and say that fer?!”
It looked like they were about to come to blows again when at that moment the doors to the hospital burst open. There stood Twilight Sparkle, with a bruise on her face and her horn glowing with magical rage. Faelan could feel his runes glowing, beginning to absorb the magical aura. He could also feel the pain start to work throughout his body, slowing creeping up his spine. He might have to kill this one.
Faelan reached around and drew his battleaxe into his hooves and prepared to charge. Standing on his hind legs nearly brought him to twice the size of the ponies around him, but he moved with practiced stability. Drawing the ax to its zenith he let out his war cry and charged the lavender unicorn. He could feel the blood curdle in his veins as Twilight tried to weave a magical shield around him, each step he took bringing a deeper look of panic into her casting.
But before he could deliver the final blow he was hit in the side and thrown off balance. At the same time he felt the magic aura about him vanish, taking the feeling of pain along with it. Looking up he saw Fluttershy had pinned (well tried to pin) him to the ground. Turning his head he could see that the orange pony, Applejack, had put Twilight in a hold to keep her from casting.
“I’m sorry I had to do that…no. No, I’m not sorry! Twilight’s my friend and I can’t let you hurt her! I-I’m giving you an order n-n-not to hurt anypony in town….Please?” Fluttershy croaked, her courage wearing out under his piercing gaze. Not even the dragon from the smoking incident stood up so well to her assertive side. It was unnerving.
Twilight looked like she was in a nightmare. “Are you all CRAZY!” she blurted, “This fiend nearly broke my nose and tried to ponynap Dr. ER against his will. He nearly killed me, and you’re just letting him go?!”
“Listen to me Twi’,” Applejack told her while not loosening her hold on the pony, “Ah know it looks bad. But ya need to trust me on this one. He ain’t gonna hurt nopony iff’n ya don’t hurt him back.”
Twilight was flabbergasted. “How could you say that? Look what he did to Rainbow Dash.”
“Actually, Twilight,” Rainbow Dash said while nervously rubbing the back of her neck, “I hate to admit, but I kinda came at him first.”
“Please, Twi’. As the Element of Honesty Ah’m askin’ ya to trust me on this.”
Twilight looked like she was about to snap until Faelan broke the silence. “Well, well…so there is a spine underneath all that mane of yours after all. Fine, as per my oath I will not kill anypony in this village unless attacked first.”
Moving Fluttershy off of him, Faelan pick himself up and harnessed his ax. Seeing the situation disarmed Applejack simultaneously released Twilight from her hold. Turning to face the lavender unicorn Faelan remarked, “Perhaps you should tell other ponies not to attack me first. It is becoming harder not to slaughter everypony I see with all these annoying interruptions.”
But just when Faelan thought he had moved past all this foolishness he turned to see that hyperactive pink earth pony from earlier coming towards them, accompanied by a white unicorn that looked as if she had spent all morning doing her hair. In the pit of his stomach Faelan felt that he was going to loath this pony from that moment on. With them coming into earshot, he could start to hear their conversation.
“Pinkie, what in Equestria could have you in such a state?”
“I’m telling you Rarity, this pony is super-duper mean and cranky. I don’t know if a single party will be enough to cheer him up! I just said hi to guy and went through aaaall the trouble of getting every pony in Ponyville to wish him to get well, and he just goes crazy! I mean, could you imagine a crazy pony running loose in town?” Rarity rolled her eyes, “No dear, perish the thought.”
It was then that Rarity first caught sight of the new denizen of Ponyville.
“My…my word,” she exclaimed. She began to pace around him, starting to look him up and down. Of all the things that had happened that day this confused Faelan the most. All through the day his appearance had elicited reactions of anger or fear, but this pony seemed…puzzled. It was as if he were some problem she needed to fix. Out of all the things he had experienced this day this pony was the first to truly unnerve him.
Rarity, while still circling, began to mutter, “That hair…those braids...so crude, yet so exotic. But those,” she said pointing to the runes over his body, “those are simply garish! And I mean really, fur!” she exclaimed while running her hooves through the bear belt Faelan wore, “Fur was sooo last season. You my dear are a fashion Disaster! We simply must get you to the boutique before it is too late. And then a trip to the spa to get rid of those filthy marks from your coat…”
Faelan had been trying with all his will-power to not tear this sorry excuse for a porcelain pony to shreds. He knew he was still under oath not to harm any pony within the village, but this indignity was too great.
“Enough!” he shouted with such force that the white unicorn staggered as if reeling from a blow. “Listen here you pampered brat of a pony, I am not some doll for you to play dress-up with! This bear pelt came from a beast I slew myself with just my bare hooves! It symbolizes that I have the strength and ferocity of the bear spirit; that I am an unstoppable force of nature! And these marks are not for decoration. They are enchanted runes imbued directly into my skin. So take your fashion, your petty gossip and everything else your kind incessantly blathers on about and go home to your castle, while real ponies get something useful done!”
His tirade had left the six other ponies speechless. Looking around he saw that many of the villagers had started to avoid their general direction, many ducking into doors that were promptly shut tight. Let them be afraid, it wasn’t like he hadn’t had enough headaches that day.
Turning to Fluttershy, his face took on a new seriousness as he began, “Well, Lady Flutterhshy, it has been a joy to meet your companions while dodging their attacks, but I need your help with a matter I need to deal with this moment.”
“Oh, um…w-what do you need from m-me?”
“I need you to lead me back to the part of the forest where you found me.”
“Are ya plum loco!” Applejack yelled, “Don’t nopony go into the Everfree Forest! What in tarnation do ya need to go there fer?”
“I need to recover my fallen sword-brother so that I may give him a proper casting.”
“But, it’s extra-mega spooky and nasty in there!” Pinkie chimed in.
“Besides, who knows what could have happened to him by now?” Twilight began in her calculating manner. “The body may not be there anymore. There’s all manner of creatures in the forest. There is no need to risk anypony on a wild goose chase.”
Faelan was resolute. “It does not matter. I must honor my sword-brother by delivering his body properly to the halls of Annwn, even if I have to cut the remains out of an animal’s stomach myself.” Turning to Fluttershy he continued, “Due to my oath I cannot leave your side. But I AM going to find Gunther’s body. So you can either accompany me freely, or I will tie you to my back and carry you.”
Rainbow Dash flared her nostrils at this, but Fluttershy held up her hoof in protest. “Please, no more fighting. I can show you the way, if you think we will be safe. I mean, I know I’m good with animals, but…”
“Ain’t no problem, sugarcube,” Applejack reassured her. “Ah may not agree with everthin’ this pony says or does, but Ah can understand bein’ there fer family. Ah couldn’t imagine livin’ with mahself iff’n Ah let Granny Smith die in some unmarked grave in the middle of nowhere. Ah’m comin’ along.”
“If you and Applejack are going, then I’m going too. I can’t leave my friends hangin’,” Rainbow Dash put in. “Well,” Rarity began, “I suppose I had already taken the day off for the picnic. And I haven’t had any large orders to fill lately. I, too, will accompany you, Fluttershy, as long as my hooves don’t get dirty.”
Twilight looked up and said, “Well, if you girls are going, then I guess I’m coming, too. It will be a great chance to get some questions I have answered,” she finished with a smile on her face.
“And I’ll bring the snacks!” Pinkie exclaimed with the typical bounce in her step.
With a sigh of resignation, Faelan turned to exit the village. “Lead the way,” he said to Fluttershy as they embarked on their journey.
It had been a rather silent journey to the Everfree forest. The girls had had a few light conversations, all while taking quick glances at their new acquaintance. Faelan would have let it go at that if it wasn’t for the purple unicorn blatantly staring at him. She kept looking him up and down, sometimes muttering to herself under her breath. It had gone on long enough for him to stand.
Turning to the little pony he snorted, “Well unicorn, what is it you want? Am I simply a puzzle for you to figure out, or simply your new plaything to poke and prod for answers like your kind is so fond of doing?”
Twilight staggered a bit from his blunt statements, but quickly recovered. Regaining her scholarly poise, she stated, “I am simply trying to study these enchantments. They’re some of the most intricate I’ve ever seen. But I am also pondering how this was done. No book I’ve ever read has detailed enchantments on living things before, much less on a living pony.”
Faelan simply scowled at her, but she continued unabashed, “I noticed what happened back in the hospital. What was it exactly? It didn’t look like any spell I’ve ever heard of.”
“That’s right! How did ya get out of the hospital so fast? Ya’ll were mighty beat up when me and Fluttershy brought ya in,” Applejack inquired.
“What you refer to, unicorn, is called the Feeding. All you need to know is that it allows me to heal myself of injuries quickly,” Faelan returned.
“But there has to be more to it than that,” Twilight pressed. “I saw you drink blood! And after I saw you did so your enchantments had glowed red while morphing over your whole body. It was like healing magic, but earth ponies can’t cast magic,” she said, her face furrowed in concentration. “What was the purpose of drinking the blood?”
Faelan scowled at the incessant persistence of this little unicorn. Gathering himself he replied, “If you insist on pestering me, then I will tell you. The Feeding is the devouring of the life force of another creature. These enchantments allow me to heal myself by feasting on a fallen quarry.”
The looks on the other ponies was one of utter horror. Twilight then remembered what Dr. ER had said about what they found while examining his body. She had a sinking feeling, but she had to ask, “I-I noticed th-th-those canines you have. They aren’t…normal for most ponies.”
“No…they were given to me along with the runes. They allow me to better tear and devour flesh, much how a wolf’s does.”
“*Gasp* Ya mean ya EAT ponies?” Applejack sputtered.
“Not entirely, no. In fact I have not fed on a pony in a very long time. The meat is not very tender.” It was at this he noticed that they had all taken a step away from him. “I have already given my word not to harm another pony unless attacked. Besides, that was a long time ago.”
Rarity threw him a stern look, “But that is utterly barbaric. Why in Celestia’s name would one WANT to do such a horrid thing?” She nearly wretched at the thought.
“It was necessary at the time. The ability to heal ourselves was needed to fight the war…”
“Wait, what war? There hasn’t been a war in Equestria in thousands of years! At least not in any of the books on Equestrian history I’ve read,” said Twilight.
“It was in my homeland…a very long time ago.”
“That was actually my next question. Where exactly do you come from? There’s no other pony nation I know of outside Equestria’s borders,” said Twilight, curiosity overcoming her fear for the moment.
“It is a land that no longer exists.” At this statement Faelan appeared to stare off into space, for a second oblivious to the world, as if lost in a tragic memory.
“Oh…I’m so sorry.”
“So am I.”
They had finally reached the forest’s edge. A silence had pervaded over the ponies once again following the end of the last conversation. It was Twilight who broke the silence, “I…I’ve also been meaning to ask. Why couldn’t my magic work on you?”
“The runes on my body also serve as a magic absorber. Any unicorn tries to use magic on me I simply absorb it into my body.”
“But earth ponies can’t use ethereal magic. The ramifications of an earth pony having raw magic flow throughout its body are untested! Farstrider’s Law of Magic Conservation states that magical energy cannot be destroyed, only converted to another form. How do you handle it?”
“I do not know how it works, but I know that the magic is released throughout my body. The only drawback is the pain it causes; the stronger the magic, the stronger the pain.”
“But why do you do it? What is the purpose?”
“It is to equal the playing field with you magic-wielding unicorns. Without your magic you’re about as formidable as a week-old foal.”
“That…that’s about the…war, isn’t it,” Fluttershy said, speaking for the first time that trip.
“Yes.”
“A-a-and that long knife you have? I noticed you seemed to hold it very close to you when I found you.”
“It is my family’s sword. It is the legacy of my people and my clan…it is all I have left of them.”
“Which reminds me…” Twilight began to say.
“Are you quite done, unicorn? I have done nothing but answer your inane questions this entire trip. Is there anyone else, anyone else at all that has something better?”
“Ooh, ooh, ooh, me! Pick me!” Pinkie Pie squealed with excitement.
“Oh by the gods…what is it?”
“What’s with the spooky-ooky cutie mark? It’s all red and scary, with sharp teeth and creepy eyes, like RAURGH! It’s kinda funny looking. I was thinking, ‘What kind of cutie mark could look so spooky?’ I mean, isn’t kind of silly to call it a cutie mark? What kind of special talent mnnph mgh…”
Rainbow Dash had placed a hoof over the hyperactive pony’s mouth. With as close to an apologetic look she could muster to this scary new stallion she chuckled, “Sorry about that. She tends to get that way sometimes.”
“So I’ve noticed,” Faelan said resignedly. “To answer your question, this cutie mark is the mark of Stendarr’s Chosen, warriors of legend in earth pony history. Those who have the mark are called Gullengrakr. All those that follow their path bear this mark.”
Twilight’s curiosity had again been peaked, but it was then that Fluttershy called out that they had reached the spot. The spot still smelled of death. The girls were having a hard to time not losing their stomachs, but Faelan did not even bat an eye. He had been in many battlefields among many fallen, both foe and friend alike. It was almost a welcomed return to something familiar.
The bodies of the fallen timber wolves still littered the ground. He noticed no stench came from their bodies, nor did they bleed. No wonder Feeding didn’t work, these creatures looked like they were animated by pure magic. Still no excuse, he thought, we had simply gotten sloppy.
There he was. Right where he last remembered laid the body of his fallen comrade. The body was still fairly fresh, but Faelan could see the discoloration of decay starting to set in. Looking up he saw a few vultures circling overhead, waiting for the coast to clear in order to feed on their new bounty. Shooing away a few flies he hefted the cold body onto his back. It felt a little awkward at first since the body had started to go stiff, but he managed to rest the stallion on his back. Gunther was nearly as large as he was; it would be a long walk back to the village.
Looking back to stop where they had made their stand, Faelan noticed his Gunther’s greatsword in the dirt. “You, kinsman,” he said pointing to Applejack, “Could you carry my brother’s sword for me?”
“Mah name is Applejack, fella, and why in the hay do ya want me to carry that fer?”
“It is customary for the fallen to be laid to rest with their weapons, so they are prepared for the hereafter. I wish for my sword-brother’s weapon to be held by one of our kin, but I cannot do it as I am already carrying his body. Will you do this for my comrade…Applejack?”
“Ah suppose it ain’t too much trouble. Besides, Ah’m probably the only pony here who could carry the dern thing.”
“Hey! I could lift that thing too, easy!” Rainbow Dash said with confidence. “Let me take that off your hooves AJ.”
“No!” Faelan cried. “I cannot allow you to desecrate Gunther’s memory in such a manner, pegasi!”
“Hey, bub, what’s your problem?! You got a thing against pegasi?”
Twilight saw the situation was beginning to deteriorate and put a hoof in. “Easy Rainbow Dash, I’m sure it simply has to do with the customs from where he’s from. We have no right to impede on their traditions.” A look of relief crossed her when the two combatants went their separate ways without a fight.
With his comrade in tow, Faelan and the other six began the march out of the forest. After a little ways Twilight once turned to Faelan and asked, “So…these traditions of yours? How do your people bury their dead? Any special ceremony…?” “Do not patronize me, unicorn. There is no need for you to feign interest in our ways.”
Twilight was once again taken aback by the sheer bluntness of this pony. “That’s not it at all! I just wish to know more about you and your people. I meant no disrespect.”
“First of all, we do not bury those slain in battle. I will build a funeral pyre to see that my sword-brother is properly cast off to the hereafter. He was my companion for untold years; he deserves a warrior’s final rites. Secondly, do not think that I wish to know you or for you to know me. I simply wish to fulfill my debt and I will leave this village not a moment later.”
Silence again pervaded over the ensemble. It may have been the tension left from the earlier argument, but more likely was due to the girls’ struggles to keep their lunches down with the smell of the dead pony filling the air. Either way, it was a blessing to Faelan. Perhaps the gods were merciful after all.
It had taken most of the day, but the funeral pyre had finally been completed. Following the advice of his lady’s companions he had made the pyre along a lakeshore outside of the village. The purple unicorn had been overly-eager to help with the funeral rites, perhaps in her annoying search to learn more about him. It was starting to grow old.
Night had started to fall over the land when the ceremony was to begin. His lady, Fluttershy, was there so that he could keep an eye on her. However, so were all the ponies that had been clinging to them the entire day. The one named Twilight seemed to have quill and scroll ready, as if to document everything she was to see that night. The rest had stayed simply from having nothing better to do, and perhaps a bit of curiosity.
Faelan looked over the body of his fallen comrade. He had dosed the body to help with the smell and coloration, the ingredients provided by the same eager purple unicorn. Gunther laid dressed in his chainmail armor, scratches and missing links attesting to its use in battle. In his hooves were gripped about the greatsword he had taken into battle, an elegant piece of steel that had saved his life and those who had the honor to call him sword-brother. His was a face of peace that would feel pain, fear, and hunger no more. It was then that Faelan began to recite.
“Lo there do I see my father.
Lo there do I see my mother and my sisters and my brothers.
Lo there do I see the line of my people, back to the beginning.
Lo they do call to me.
They bid me take my place among them.
In the halls of Annwyn,
Where the brave may live…forever.”
Taking the torch in his hoof, he lit the pyre and stepped back as the flames began to ascend. He simply stood there and watched as the flames began to lick at Gunther’s body. Flashes began to play in Faelan’s mind of the screams of comrades consumed in such flame, the din of battle piercing the silence of his inner thoughts. But there was no pain on Gunther’s face; no sign of suffering in that peaceful slumber. Looking on at his comrade, Faelan simply whispered, “Go now, my brother. I will see you soon.”
Gunther…Hilda…Unferth…The names went on and on. So many there had been. Now all had passed on, but him. For the first time that day, Faelan felt a chill. He truly was alone now.
Fluttershy and the others had remained silent to that point. The gravity of the scene before them was more than many of them had ever experienced. Twilight had been scribbling on her scroll for a time, but seemed to stop out of solemn respect for Faelan’s loss. Fluttershy still felt terrified of this supposed “protector” of hers, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him losing such a close friend.
Walking up to him, she tried to put a reassuring hoof on his shoulder, but he simply brushed it away with a scoff. This action took her by surprise and she recoiled at the act. But she had to try something. As the Element of Kindness it was her job to open up to any and all creatures. With as much sympathy as she could muster, she turned to him and said, “I…I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Faelan simply stared at her and said, “I have no need for your pity. He died a warrior. There was no shame in his passing. It is an honor that should be celebrated, to die with a sword in your hand.”
“But that’s so MESSED UP!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed. “I mean, I understand not getting all sappy about something, but you gotta be a little torn up about this.”
“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight interjected, “Show a little curtsey.” Turning to Faelan, she continued, “I’m sorry about that. I have to ask, what was that chant earlier. It sounded almost like a prayer.”
“It is the Prayer of the Brave, a prayer for the dead who lived their lives with courage and honor. It calls to our ancestors, to tell them of our return.” A moment of silence past before he continued, “I wish to be alone now, if you will.”
Fluttershy and her friends agreed and left the scene behind them. Fluttershy said her goodbyes to her friends and had turned around to go back, when she thought she heard a faint noise. She couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like singing. Straining her ears she just got the notes of a baritone carried on the breeze. She started to hear the words, but couldn’t make out what they meant. Doing her best to listen it sounded like this,
“Gafflwn Dihenydd O’r fuddugol yn wiriol sydd,
Ni fydd neb yn ein drechu, Falch ydy ni I drochu,
Traed o flaen I’r Annwn, mewn y gwybodaeth fe godwn ni.”
*** Author's Notes: There are two references in this piece. The first is the "prayer of death" scene from the movie The Thirteenth Warrior. To see the original scene. For the song at the end of the piece, it is a Welsh song made for the Halo: ODST live trailer here. See the lyrics and meaning of the words here. Again, credit to Defenastrator for proofreading the piece.
Twilight Sparkle was in high spirits, despite the previous events of the day. Hearing his name being called, her number one assistant came hopping down the stairs ready to help, as always. But with one glance his enthusiasm did a nose dive. He knew from that look in her eye that he wasn’t going to get much sleep that night.
“We’re pulling an all-nighter tonight, aren’t we?” Spike said with a groan.
“Oh, don’t look so down. It’s not like we haven’t done it before. But before that; Spike, take a letter.”
Grabbing scroll and quill, Spike now stood ready. “Okay, shoot.”
“Dear Princess Celestia,
My friends and I have just greeted a new pony to Ponyville. Fluttershy had just rescued him from a pack of timber wolves when I arrived at the hospital. However, while there he miraculously healed himself by drinking blood…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa…he drank blood? You mean like a…vampire?” Spike said, cringing.
“Focus Spike, I need to get this letter to the Princess as soon as possible. Besides, vampires are only old mares’ tales told to fillies on Nightmare Night.” Clearing her throat, Twilight continued.
“…I later learned that this was due to enchantments he had imbued directly into his body. I also learned these same enchantments also allow him to absorb magic directly into himself, negating its effects. I had never heard of enchantments done on living things before, and I wish to do more research about them.
However, that is not the most intriguing thing about him. He seems to come from an earth pony culture all its own, with its own religion and its own traditions. He said he comes from a land that no longer exists, which I believe must have been outside Equestria’s borders in years past.
Another strange aspect about him is his cutie mark. It is the most bizarre I’ve ever seen, and he says that there are others like him who have it. It appears to have cultural significance to him, as he called it the mark of “Stendarr’s chosen.” Never in my studies have I heard of ponies sharing a common cutie mark, or of cutie marks being passed down through generations, and I wish to learn more about them.
For the time being our new resident, whose name is Faelan (both Twilight and Spike struggled on the spelling), will be staying with Fluttershy if you wish to meet him. As the oldest being in Equestria, I hope you can shed light on some of my questions, as I wish to study all of these facts further. Also, I wish to have access to the oldest records of pony history, mythology, geography, and enchanting from the Canterlot Archives in pursuing my research on what could be a forgotten part of Equestrian history.
Your Faithful Student, Twilight Sparkle”
Collecting her thoughts to make sure she hadn’t forgotten any details, Twilight gave Spike the go ahead to send the letter. With one puff of his fiery breath Spike had the letter sent on its way in a magical mist.
No sooner had the letter been sent that Twilight immediately moved on to scouring her library for study materials. While rummaging through the history section she called out, “Okay, Spike. I need every book on mythology and magical constructs that you can find. Start with Moonbeam the Strange and work your way to Xiana the Mystic. I’m going to go check storage down in the basement.”
After about ten minutes of searching, Twilight had amassed a collection of scrolls, books, and tomes, many appearing not to have seen the light of day in decades. Still, the measly pile spoke volumes on the disparity of information on the subjects she needed to research. Equestria’s seemingly unending peace and cooperation meant that research on individual pony cultures were few and very outdated. What she really needed was the extensive archives of a metropolitan center. Ponyville was her home, but it did have its drawbacks.
It was just after cracking open one of Moonbeam the Strange’s treatises on enchantment theory that Spike coughed out a return letter bearing the Princess’s seal. Turning up from her studies, Twilight took the letter into her telepathy with excitement. “Wow, the Princess must be impressed to return my letter so fast, and at such a late hour! Okay…” she stated while clearing her throat.
“To My Faithful Student,
This new pony you have met sounds like one I should like to meet personally to welcome to our home. However, with the Summer Sun Celebration coming up in the next few days I am afraid I am busy with preparations. Perhaps you and your friends can properly introduce me to him when I visit Ponyville for the festival.
As to your research I am much more apprehensive. Research into living enchantments was forbade long ago and the records sealed, since such research often had dire consequences. I am, however, more intrigued with this new culture you seemed to have stumbled upon. The unification of the three pony races predates even my sister and I, and I am afraid most records of earlier subcultures were lost. That is why I am sending you the books you have requested right away. You have my full support in this endeavor. Just remember to try and get some sleep.
Sincerely, Princess Celestia”
“You hear that Spike?! I have official support from Celestia herself to do my research!” Twilight gushed while bouncing about the room in a manner to make a certain pink earth pony proud. Just as suddenly she stopped in her tracks while her eyes sparkled with excitement. “I wonder if I can get my worked published. *Squee* I may even get an article in the Equestrian Histories and Archeological Discoveries Journal for my findings!” she cried while clapping her hooves together.
Spike raised an eye brow in confusion. “I hate to burst your bubble Twilight, but aren’t you already assigned to study the magic of friendship by Celestia? How are you going to have time to do both?”
“Oh, Spike, I still have time to study friendship. I study friendship nearly every day. But it’s not every day you have the chance to study a lost culture. This is the stuff that researchers dream of! A chance to discover something that will have your name recognized in the history books. I’ll be like Starswirl the Bearded!” she said, her thoughts filled with daydreams of a wing of the Canterlot Archives dedicated to her dancing through her head.
Spike once again rolled his eyes. She was in that state whenever she found a new subject to study, and she always had to follow through until she knew everything about it. Doing his best to organize the pile of books Twilight had flung to the floor into neat piles, Spike let out a sigh. He was way too young for this kind of headache.
It had been a silent, and rather awkward, walk back to her cottage that night. Fluttershy still felt the weight of her “protector’s” eyes bearing down on her. Every time she got the courage to look back to see how he was doing his gaze would be off into the distance. But every time she did she could see his eyes glaring down at her, looking through her. She would only turn her head back around with a whimper and continue on.
It was with a silent cry of relief that Fluttershy caught sight of her home. Turning to face her new companion, she spoke in her usual soft tone. “Well, um, here we are…home, sweet, home. I hope it’s to your liking. I mean I know I’m not a very good host, but I’ll do my best to make sure you’re comfortable, I mean whatever…”
Faelan cut her off, “What sort of dwelling is this?” he asked with a look of bewilderment.
“Oh! You don’t like it! I’m mean, most ponies I know usually like more traditional housing but I…”
“That is not what I meant. What I meant is that I thought all pegasi lived in the clouds.” Faelan turned his head and Fluttershy could see the confusion on his face. She was about to speak , but confusion was soon replaced with indignation.
Scorn dripped from his words as he followed, “Why would one of the lofty pegasi decide to live on the ground among us lowly earth ponies? Got tired of seeing us scurrying below you and decided to come see for yourself how us unfortunate peasants live in your spare time?!” His voice began to rise with every word, until Fluttershy was nearly in a fetal position to protect herself.
“No, I just...I-I’m just good with animals. I-It’s my special talent,” she weakly squeaked. Her mind was reeling. She didn’t know what she had done to upset him, but she knew she didn’t want to end up like Rainbow Dash or those poor stallions.
He was staring down at her now. Fluttershy was hiding behind her mane, trying to make herself as small as possible. She never was one for confrontation. She didn’t even like arguing; too much of a chance of somepony’s feelings getting hurt.
She was about to pass out from the stress when the stallion standing over her let out a strained laugh, “Ha! Since when do pegasi know anything about the beauties of the mother Earth? You cloud types could never have the same appreciation for the natural forces of us earth ponies.”
When he didn’t continue Fluttershy ventured a peak past her mane. It was a small shock when she saw that he had backed away. It was with that distant gaze of his that seemed to underline his earnestness when he whispered, “You can never know the ways it calls to us and sings to us.”
“I-I’m sorry…it’s just, as a filly…” she began.
But the huge earth pony cut her off, “Spare me your life’s story. It is late, and I like to get an early start.” He strolled over to a tree and with apparent ease bent the tree over, securing it to the ground.
Fluttershy was horrified. “What are you doing to that poor, defenseless tree?!”
“I am making a lean-to for me to sleep under until I can create a proper shelter. That is, unless you expect me to sleep under the chicken coop?”
“Oh no! Why would you think I would do such a thing?! Here,” she motioned to her earthen abode, “you can sleep in my cottage. I am sure I can find a warm place for you to sleep,” she said while strolling to the cozy home.
To her dismay this seemed to make him even more agitated. Again his eyes took on a look of righteous fury, his face creasing in furrows of deep-seated hatred. Fluttershy felt like he was spitting venom at her when he spoke, “I would not think it would be seemly for such an elegant creature such as a pegasus to share their home with one of us filth-encrusted earth types. Or do you wish me to sit at the foot of your bed like one of your animals?”
“I-I never s-said that. If you want you could sleep in the bed. I-I don’t mind, just please…”
“So you now take pity on me? Am I some ignorant savage for you to civilize? Well let me tell you pegasus, I do not need your charity. It is maddening enough that I owe you blood debt for my life; I do not need any more of your help. Now, if you will excuse me,” he said while turning to go to his impromptu shelter, “I need to get some rest. Near-death experiences tend to get tiring after awhile.”
And with that he settled himself underneath the tree, pulling the branches close to his body. Fluttershy could feel the beginnings of tears tug at the corners of her eyes. How could he say such things? She had done nothing but try to help and he just grew angrier. She remembered back to the time she faced down the Manticore. She had told Twilight that sometimes all we ever needed is a little kindness. But with this stallion, she wasn’t so sure anymore.
No! She couldn’t give up! She was the Element of Kindness, and if she could face Nightmare Moon she could face this! Plucking up her courage, she put on the best smile she could and walked to where the new pony was lying. Putting on her sweetest voice she softly cooed, “Well, if you would like, I could lend you a nice blanket for the night. You wouldn’t owe me a thing. Just give it back when you’re done. I mean, the weather team had planned for rain tonight, so I thought you could use something warm.”
The stallion simply opened an eye up at her, wincing slightly at the mention of “weather team.” In his gruff voice he stated, “I have weathered greater storms before. I am not some frail pegasus who needs to change the weather when it doesn’t suit them. So, keep your blanket. As I said, I do not need your charity.”
“B-b-but…I was just trying to help…” she began.
“Do yourself a kindness…don’t,” he stated while closing his eyes again. “Your kind has done enough to help as it is.”
And with that the painted stallion let out a deep sigh signaling he was going to sleep and did not want to be disturbed. With her head hung in defeat Fluttershy slowly plodded over to her home. She was always there to offer a helping hoof to anypony in need or to sooth a hurting animal. But how do you show kindness to a pony that doesn’t want it, she wondered to herself.
It was with a heavy heart that Fluttershy climbed into her bed for the night. Looking out the window showed that the storm clouds had gathered and were now blocking the moon and stars. The wind had started to pick up as well. I sure hope he doesn’t catch a cold, she thought to herself as she dug deeper into her sheets.
Fluttershy was having a hard time sleeping that night. She had no idea how much time had passed when a crack of thunder shook her out of her slumber with a squeal. With her heart beating in her chest she looked out the window again to see that the rainstorm had now turned into a squall. She again felt a pang of guilt knowing that her guest was trying to sleep through this out in the cold with nothing more than a tree for shelter. She had to do something, even if he didn’t want her to.
Tiptoeing through the cottage so as not to wake Angel, Fluttershy had grabbed an extra blanket and rubber liner before moving towards the door. Upon opening the front door she was immediately bombarded by the wind and rain. Even if it was summer the water now soaking her fur and mane caused her to shiver, as much from fright as the cold.
But she would not be deterred. Bracing herself against the wind, she slowly started to make her way towards the makeshift shelter. The storm ripped and howled at her in defiance, her vision limited to about thirty feet in any direction. Mud was beginning to cling to her hooves and drag her down when she finally managed to find the tree shelter.
Looking at her stallion guest it was clear that his small tree shelter was inadequate for this monster of a storm. Despite the foliage, his fur was soaked and the rain was starting to pool around him to create a quagmire. But still he slept. Fluttershy didn’t know whether to be impressed at his fortitude or concerned about what he had gone through to make him this way. It was then she noticed him muttering in his sleep. He began to twist and whiny, his face contorting in pain, while his breathes came in short staggers. He must be having a terrible nightmare, Fluttershy thought to herself, concern once again welling up in her heart. This will surely make him feel better, no matter what he says.
Taking the bundle off her back she took great care to wrap the blanket around as not to wake him before covering him with the rubber liner. It at least provided moderate protection from the rain, as the moisture began to roll off the sides.
Fluttershy stepped back to see her handiwork and nearly had her heart melt in the moment. The shaggiest stallion she had ever seen, painted head to hoof in runes and tribal markings, who had been shaking in his sleep, was snuggling up in the new warmth of the blanket, his mutterings replaced with a contented sigh. Taking the blanket in her mouth, Fluttershy proceeded to tuck in the behemoth of a stallion much as she would a young foal before giving him a final kiss, “Good night.”
It could have been snowing for all Fluttershy cared, as the warm feeling in her gut would not be outdone by the rain. See, Fluttershy thought to herself, you just had to be more assertive, as Rainbow would say. Kindness really is the best medicine.
But before she got out of earshot she heard his restless mutterings start to begin again. Even though she wanted to help anyway she could, Fluttershy knew there was nothing she could do about bad dreams, and if she stayed out much longer in the rain she wouldn’t be any help to anypony. With a heavy heart she turned back to her cottage, but not before making out one word the stallion kept muttering in his sleep.
“…Mama…”
Death.
Its smell was familiar to his nostrils. It hung on the air like a poisonous miasma, choking everything it touched. The smell of blood, sweat, bowels and fear; it was the smell of the battlefield.
Faelan looked around at his surroundings, not quite sure where he was. The place looked nondescript for a battlefield, but something seemed oddly familiar. Something tugged at the back of his mind that he couldn’t quite place his hoof on. He continued onward, passing through fields covered in half-rotted corpses along the way. He went through names in his head of where he might be; the siege of Trottingham, the battle of Faustberg, or even the massacre of Aldiehann, among others.
As he continued he realized what was off about his surroundings. There were no ponies about; at least, no living ponies. If there had been a great battle here, then where were the survivors? At the least there would have been the local peasants clearing the fields, trying to salvage what usable farmland was left for the coming season. This was just wrong. His warrior’s sense was giving him the feeling of being watched. The utter silence was the biggest alarm of all.
He soon found himself passing through what looked to be an orchard. However, where fruits for the next harvest should have dangled ripe for the picking, stood only scorched-bare stunts of branches. But what hung from those barren hulks was what really caught the eye. Tethered from ropes that were beginning to fray from neglect were more corpses, hung for the crows. Looking up at them, Faelan saw that they were all unicorns, all with their horns cut or broken off.
“Just like at Whinnychester,” he said aloud.
Putting the thought out of his mind he continued onward. Looking at the bodies gave him chills he was not familiar with. Eye sockets, long emptied by crows and festering with maggots, seemed to stare back at him, through him. If he didn’t know any better he would have believed that their dead gazes were following him. That feeling of being surrounded by a force he could not face again crept up his spine, only to be pushed done by years of hardship and training.
He finally made it out of the orchard into open fields. More bodies strewed the ground as it became harder to find empty hoof-falls. Most were pegasi, many of them Legionaries, but also Sky Archons and the infamous Thunderhooves in their imposing thick armor, their full-faced helmets giving them a faceless inpony look to them. Their bodies rested at impossible angles, many missing limbs, wings, or even entire sections of carcass. The ones that had faces seemed to look up at him, almost with a look of pleading…or demand.
After so long in silence, it was no trouble for his trained ears to pick up the first sounds of others. Finally, he thought, an explanation for this silent torture. Galloping as adeptly as he could through the obstacle course of corpses, it was not long until he found the source of the sound. He came to a complete stop, frozen in shock (or was it terror?) of what he saw.
It was his home, the outlying fields he now recognized as his family’s farmland. He couldn’t believe it when he saw his mother and sister out working the pens, walking across the bodies like they didn’t notice they were there. Everypony was there; including his old grandfather Lachlan; bent and gray but refusing to stop working. They moved about their business, completely oblivious to the carnage around them.
“I know I must be dreaming, but I am mad as well?” he questioned as he watched his sister put her hoof down into an eye socket and then dragging the skull through the cabbage patch with nary a care. He watched as his sister proceeded to work the garden, but instead of heads of cabbage the rows were filled with severed skulls. He wanted to shout at her for what she was doing, but nothing seemed to come. When she turned to him she waved, allowing him to see the Reaper’s harvest in her haversack.
It was a moment before he realized, She’s waving at me?
Once his presence was known his mother began to trot towards him, her smile eerily out of place with the morbid scene around her. She was just as he remembered her. Her golden locks bounced with her step, held back with a kerchief to keep it out of the dirt, a few gray strands starting to work around the temples. Her ginger coat played against her green eyes, shining brighter than any emerald the unicorns seemed to covet so much. She looked so happy to see him, the picture of a mother welcoming home her son. This can’t be real, he thought, now conscious of his apparel, She shouldn’t see me like this.
Instinctively he knew nothing about this added up, but seeing his mother after so long began to soften the barriers he had built over the years. He wasn’t sure, but it felt as an unknown force was tugging at his mind, a calm like the encroachment of sleep. Wariness warred with compassion when finally he felt her forehooves wrap around his neck.
“My son,” she cooed while nuzzling his neck, “at last you come home.”
At first he just stood there, taking in the moment, not sure how to react. He knew he shouldn’t, that it was all a dream, that it would only hurt later, but slowly he returned the hug.
“Mom, I…” he began, his eyes beginning to water.
“Please, Son, come help us with the harvest. You know how father Lachlann is. The old mule won’t see reason and give up the plow.”
At first he didn’t hear her. Faelan simply relished in the warmth of her embrace, the smell of…the corpses? Suddenly jarred from his reverie he pushed the mare off of him. What I am doing, he thought. None of this is real. She’s not real!
The thing posing as his mother retracted in shock, a hurt expression on her face, “Son, what is wrong?”
“What is wrong is that this isn’t real. I’m dreaming. This…this isn’t real.”
He felt her take his chin in her hoof, bringing his face to face hers. In that motherly tone of hers she continued, “What has gotten into you? No my son, you’re not dreaming, you’re home. You must simply be tired from your journeys. When you went off to fight I feared I never see you again, but now you are home.” Again Faelan felt that eerie calmness trying to cloud his mind, its unseen tendrils slowly working in.
“Then what about the bodies?” he continued, ignoring her attempts at comfort. “There’s pegasi and unicorns everywhere!”
Again her face was a look of pure maternal peace. “Pegasi? Unicorns? Son, they’re gone, remember? Word has traveled of your exploits in the war; my son, the hero who drove the invaders from our homeland. The bards will sing songs for generations to come of your deeds.” Her stare seemed to lock him in place when she continued, “Now you can have your happy ending. Come, there is work to be done.”
“But, the corpses…how can you not see them. How can you not see what I am?! This isn’t real!” His mind was screaming, trying to resist what he could not see.
“My son, what bodies? All I see are the open fields and my beautiful baby boy in the prime of his life. Come, you can help your father clear the new fields for the coming year.”
He turned to point out the bodies she could not see when he saw they were gone. The fields were just as he remembered. The wheat swayed in the wind, and the stalks of corn were planted in their neat rows. He turned to see his sister still waving to him, the haversack now filled to bursting with heads of cabbage. Beyond the fences he saw his father Omarr, along with his two brothers, Kadell and Ulfen. It truly looked as if not a day had gone by since he left to fight. It was…beautiful.
His mother looked up at him, “You can put it all behind you. Everything is just as it should be.”
Her voice beckoned him. Looking down at himself he was shocked to see that the runes were no longer etched into his skin. His leather cuirass was nothing more than a work harness, his weapons gone. That’s impossible, he thought, but it feels…right. No, Mama’s right. Everything is as it should be.
It had been the perfect day; a day of satisfying field work with the family. He had started by helping his father chop the trees at the forest line for fire wood before moving on to pulling the stumps. It had been slow going at first, but they both had soon gotten into a rhythm. It was a serene rhythm where they stopped thinking and were just doing; father and son struggling in honest labor. The work had gone so fast that his father had let him go early, something he rarely allowed.
With the waning daylight he had gone for a quick swim in the river the family used to irrigate the fields. Tip-toeing in, he had caught his kid brother Kadell napping in the shade, neglecting his chores yet again. With a quick buck his brother had a wet wake-up call, before Faelan jumped in after him. A short dunking session later and they were both laughing, Faelan feeling like a colt again. It was a shame when they had to climb out, the cool air off the mountains slapping their wet coats.
It was a pleasant walk back to the farmhouse as they needed to make it back for supper. Kadell and him talked on the way back, talking about who got the most dunks, and Kadell pouting about how small he was compared to him.
“Don’t worry little brother. If you’re anything like me you will be eating everything you bring in soon enough,” Faelan chuckled.
This seemed to cheer the little colt up. It was then that his brother’s countenance grew rather grim, and Faelan couldn’t understand why. When he gave his brother a questioning look Kadell’s gaze glossed over, almost ghostly, the same look many warriors got when they had seen too much. In a deadpan voice Kadell said, “Faelan wouldn’t it have been great if everyday could have been like this one.”
“What do you mean could have? We have many years ahead of us. By Horden, Grandfather Lachlann may even live to see you reach stallionhood,” he said with a smile, hoping to lighten the mood.
Kadell’s voice sounded truly hollow when he spoke. “Sometimes we wish for things we cannot have. We want them so bad that our minds will grasp onto things that aren’t there, like a drowning mouse.”
“What…what are you saying?”
His brother turned to him, his eyes devoid of any life, “We must live with our choices, Faelan. There is always a price to pay.”
The moment the words had left his lips the ground exploded beneath them. Faelan recoiled in surprise as hundreds of hooves broke from the ground. Several were pulling and tugging at his legs, the half-rotted limbs grasping at anything they could reach. Martial instinct kicked in as Faelan swung the wood ax from its harness, whereupon he began to tear limbs with ax with reckless abandon. But for every one he broke away from three more would break through.
“Kadell! Kadell!” he cried between swings of his hooves. He could see his little brother just out of reach as he worked to cut a path to him. His brother simply stood there, the look of death still in his eyes. Faelan didn’t understand; what was he doing?
“Kadell! There’s too many! Run to the house and get Father! I’ll hold them off!” But Kadell did not move a muscle, his figure as still as a statue, his face an unreadable mask of calm. “What are you doing?!” he yelled as he tore a hoof out of the ground like a carrot before using it to beat another into submission.
His brother stared through him with that unnatural calm, “There is always a price to pay.” And with those final words the ground opened and the hoofs of the dead swallowed his brother before his eyes.
“NO!!” But it was too late. With a final thrust Faelan broke away only to paw at the ground where his brother once stood. All reason had left him as he uselessly dug at the spot. I cannot lose him again, his mind screamed.
Faelan was pulled back to himself as a pair of hooves burst out in front of him, grabbing him by the throat. He had nearly been pulled down headfirst before he broke away. But now the rest of the pony they were attached to sprang from the ground, a decomposed shell of its former self. In awe, Faelan couldn’t move, his eyes locked into its. Its empty sockets seem to stare into Faelan’s soul as it pulled itself up to meet him face to face. It fleshless jaws worked slowly as it moaned a single word, “Whyyyyyy?”
With that it lunged at him. Faelan shook off the moment of quiet terror and brought the ax down with the strength of fear and desperation, splitting the corpse from shoulder to hip. But now more of the undead had begun to rise from the earth, their fleshless forms moving with the bastardized semblance of life. Draugar, Faelan realize, restless souls of the dead, and they were all shambling towards him.
It was then that he caught sight of the farmhouse in the distance. He didn’t know what brought these revenants from their graves, but they would not take his family away from him. Putting his ax in its harness, he lowered his head and pawed the ground, snarling at the undead horde. “Get out of MY WAY!”
Letting loose his battle cry Faelan crashed into the mass of bodies like a pony possessed. Shrugging off blows with his massive bulk, he bit, stomped, and head-butted anything foolish enough to stand in his path. He also took injuries himself, as the draugar proved they were far from helpless. They lashed out at him with any form of weapon, from hooves to swords to simple kitchen knives. He could feel the red mist begin to tug at the corners of his vision as he worked to push the pain to back of his mind. Not yet, he told himself, not until I know the family is safe.
Finally he began to break away from the group and started to bound through the open fields. To either side of him the scenery changed before his eyes. The green meadows decayed to brown, while the lush crops were now chocked with weeds. The world had reverted back to the nightmare visage from before. Bodies littered the yard, while others hung from the trees as before. Faelan moved to pull the ax back from the harness, but luckily none of them seemed to be moving.
Looking about the yard Faelan began to panic when he didn’t see any sign of the family. It was then that he caught sight of a familiar figure in the waning twilight. Turning to get better look he could see the visage of grandfather Lachlann, his face appearing to be made of stone.
Trotting up to him Faelan called, “Grandfather, where is the family? Is everypony safe?” But Lachlann did not respond. His steely gaze seemed to show all the years of his life, his face looking drawn. “Grandfather…”
“Stendarr has chosen you, young one. You must heed his call. The blood cannot be undone.”
And with that the world seemed to shift. Shapes and shadows flooded Faelan’s vision as everything around him spun. No more was he on the farm of his foalhood memories, but instead an empty field. In any direction the horizon tampered into nothing. He was alone, not sure what to do, when things began to come into focus. He was back on the battlefield, rusted weapons and armor cast by the wayside in all directions.
Just when he was beginning the constricted loneliness of the endless void the ground began to turn again. Draugr began to arise in every direction, the rotted flesh pulling themselves along. The soulless eyes turned to him, malice painted over their drawn muzzles. Tens, hundreds of draugr were now shambling towards him, readying to tear him limb from limb. He should have been ready, his combat instincts kicking in. But something held him back. He was…he was scared. He was a little colt again, staring at a menacing world he didn’t want to see.
“S-s-somepony, anypony…please, somepony please help me,” he sobbed.
“I’m here, son.”
Turning to the voice Faelan saw her, big, comforting, with a smile on her face. He scampered over to her, hoping she could make everything better.
“Mama, I’m scared. I wanna go home.”
Her warm smile never left her face as she brought her head down to nuzzle him. In that self-assuring voice of hers she whispered, “But son, you are home.”
The young colt looked up, confused, with tears in his eyes. “What do you mean Mama?”
“The battlefield is your home now, remember? This is who you are, isn’t it. Look, don’t you recognize their faces?”
Faelan was scared to, but he turned his head to look out at the approaching horde. At first he didn’t recognize any of them, but when they started getting closer he started to see. He knew these ponies. There were unicorn mages impaled on spikes, and pegasi legionaries missing wings. There were griffons with missing beaks and dragons missing wings or even heads. Wherever he looked he saw faces, he saw memories. I killed them, he realized.
Everywhere he saw eyeless stares and menacing snarls. But what really hurt the most were the stares coming from the last set of eyes. Shambling among the others were his kinsmen, earth ponies wearing either motley sets of armor or tattered rags. Some were little more than peasants, some impaled or covered in burns. But the worst of all was one particular mare in the crowd, a dead foal cradled next to her chest.
“Gredal…”
As the undead horde slowly made its way closer he started to see something else. There were tears in their eyes. All around he could see contorted faces mixed with pain and anger. Their moaning started to come in more cohesively.
“Whyyy…”
“…did I…"
“…have to dieee…?”
From a hundred throats came cries of hurt. Everywhere he looked it was the same; fathers, sons, wives, relatives, earth, unicorn, pegasus, stallions, and fillies, all his fault! He couldn’t stand it anymore!
“Mama, please help me,” he began to sob. But turning around he saw she was no longer there.
“But son…” he heard from below. Looking down he was met with the visage of her severed head in his hooves. His eyes were looked in horror with hers. But her smile never faltered as she continued with finality, “…how can I, when I’m already dead?”
With a scream he threw her away. Bouncing in the dirt her smile never left. The last bulwark of safety he had was gone. He was alone and he was scared, waiting for the horde to take their time tearing him apart for his sins.
RELEASE ME.
He could feel it in the base of skull.
DO WHAT YOU WERE BORN TO DO.
Fear began to congeal into anger. He wasn’t going to die!
KILL.
The scared young colt was gone; in his place was a warrior. Slipping his battleaxe out, he dove into the horde with no fear. The draugr started to raise their assembled weapons when he began to cut a bloody swath through them. Chainmail, plate, scales, it didn’t matter as Faelan cut apart bodies like a wild beast.
Four pegasi and a griffon pushed him back in an attempt to smother him with their weight. With a heave he lifted the group and tossed their shattered remains over his back with the ease of a bale of hay. He dodged a thrust from a mare with a kitchen knife, catching her leg in his teeth. Blood seeped into his vision as he tore the forehoof from the socket before splitting her abdomen with his ax. Wielding the severed limb like a cudgel in one hoof and the great axe in the other he proceeded to bludgeon and cut his way through the onrushing crowd.
No thoughts ran through his mind, no fear, only bloodlust. He was a merciless vortex of death, biting, kicking, tearing, and slashing his way across the battlefield. While throwing up a block, a unicorn knight managed to cut the shaft of his axe with a sword. Faelan simply tore its head from its body and proceeded to stab his victims with the horn. When that no longer proved useful he pulled his ancestral blade from the scabbard and sliced through four necks at once.
This continued unabated for he knew not how long. But for any dozen he killed, a dozen more would rise and take their place. So oblivious he was in his rage that he lost track of the bodies that were littered from his tirade. Slipping in the pool of blood, he fell and lost the grip of his sword. The restless dead proceeded to pile onto him before he could recover. He kicked and fought and bit like a caged animal, but to no avail. Hooves tore up from the ground, pulling him down with the strength of the vengeful. In his last throes he could hear laughter in the background at his inevitable doom. With his last gasp his roared his hate and fear at the world.
