A Warrior's Tale

by Storybookandco

First published

A tale of a warrior's path from servitude to the freedom and into the embrace of a new friend's love.

This is a tale of warrior of a foreign land, far to the east. It is a tale redemption, a tale of anguish, and a tale about how even the most unlikeliest of circumstances can change the life of an individual, who all he wanted was the one thing he thought he could never have…the love of friends and family, and a sense of belonging in his life. This, is his story.
(Note, I marked it as gore but it's more like just occasional spouts of violence)

Prologue

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It was a cool autumn evening, the sun had just touched the horizon and cast a beautiful sunset over a distant land in the far east. But, there was no quiet, no peaceful splendor, for the air stank with the smell of ash and blood. Battle was afoot, between two of the many clans that inhabit this land, two clans that will fight to the end…even until death.

“Put the fire out! Put it out!” said a male Earth Pony, clad in silver plated heavy armor. “They’re coming at the gate, to arms!” four warriors were struggling to put out a fire that had engulfed a nearby house, setting it ablaze in a hellish light. Suddenly, a thud could be heard at the gate, then, another, and another after that methodically, the enemy was using a battering ram to break through.

Three other warriors gathered at the gates, ready to defend their homes and families to the death. Thud after thud, the ram was breaking down the doors. Then suddenly, the doors caved in, and as they collapsed, there was silence. The silhouettes of many warriors began entering the village quietly, filing in front of the defenders, until at least six were standing side by side several feet in front of them. It was still silent, but suddenly, there were hoof steps.

Out of the smoke and ash came a single warrior, standing taller than any gathered there. The invaders sidestepped and let him through, and when he got to the front of the group, he stopped still. He stared down at the terrified defenders, his helmet fully enclosing his face, as is typical for the warriors of his clan. The defenders slightly shifted hooves as they stared up at the armored juggernaut, ready to give it their all.

Then, suddenly, one of the defenders yelled and charged at him, but was quickly struck down in a lightning fast attack from his blade edged bracers. The others look on in horror as the invaders sneered cruelly. Then, the sound of a battle horn, and the juggernaut struck. One by one, the defenders were brought low by the solitary warrior, and as he reached the center of the village, the chieftain of the clan and some of his retainers had went out to meet him. The chieftain was an elderly unicorn with a curved horn, with a pure white goatee.

“Enough of this, please.” The armored warrior approached, unabated by his plea. “I know where you come from, and that this life was not decided by you.” The juggernaut stopped, confused by what the old stallion had said. “I also know what you desire most, and you know that you will never attain it this way. Not here. Not now.”

Rumors persisted that the elderly unicorn had the ability to foresee the future, which would explain how the warriors of the Bright Tree clan had outsmarted those of their enemies, the shrewd warriors of the Singing Brook clan, for so long. But this time, no portents would save them. Their final hours were near, and they knew it.

“And what do you know about what I desire?” Replied the armored warrior, his voice calm and reserved. “You are just an old fool.” “I am an old fool who has seen you, and what the future has in store. However you reach that future, is up to you to decide.” From behind the warrior, a cackle can be heard, and up strides one of the invaders. A tall, arrogant earth pony who seemed a little too sure of himself. “It seems the rest of your village has surrendered. I suggest you do the same.”

The retainers had prepared to attack, but the Unicorn stopped them. “Very well, Black Mane, you win. We will surrender.” One of the retainers, a blue pegasus mare with a bright yellow mane styled into a mohawk looks back at him, confused. “Elder Prophecy, I must protest!” “Lay down your weapons child!” The unicorn, now revealed as Prophecy snaps at her. “You cannot win this fight. None of us can. The greatest warriors know when to fight on, when to run, and when to lay down their arms and surrender. Now please, do as I say.” The pegasus and the other retainer, a red Earth Pony, do so reluctantly. The warriors of the Singing Brook clan went forward and apprehended them. Their leader, named Black Mane, said to them. “A wise choice, now the rest of you, torch this place to the ground and round up the foals. Come Steel Break, let us go back and celebrate our victory. The young ones will become fine Janissaries, and fuel the war machine.” The retainers hang their heads in defeat at hearing that, crushed at hearing the fate of their children, to become slave soldiers for the Singing Brook clan's warmongering chief.

The armored warrior, called Steel Break takes one last look at the defeated enemies, the retainers stare at him with hatred, while Prophecy just gave a gentle smile. That smile affected him during the long march home. He barely remembered the day he was taken from his family to become a Janissary, in fact, he could hardly remember his life prior to induction at all. All he could remember was the brutal training he went through to prepare him and his fellow inductees to fight what he had learned to call the Long War, a conflict between the clans of his war torn homeland that had no hope of being won, at least until the rise of Golden Bright, the chief of the Singing Brook clan and self proclaimed emperor and his legion of slave soldiers taken from the youth of defeated and subjugated clans.

Steel Break had never considered his place in the grander scheme of things, until this battle. He looked around at his comrades, over two dozen other Janissaries that marched beside him silently. He had fought with all of them since their days as inductees, yet, he felt no kinship with them. To him, they seemed as faceless as he made himself out to be. But, in private, they were ponies just like him. They each had their own personalities, their own quirks, even their own thoughts and desires. But, such things were discouraged to be shown openly. They knew they were the Emperor's iron clad hoof, and they alone would bring an end to the Long War, an end to the endless killing. But, the question all of them asked themselves, would be what happens after? When the war was over, and they had brought peace to their land, what would become of them? Such thoughts entered and left his mind during the course of the night until they had finally entered Singing Brook lands.

Little did he know i that it would be during the following night his life would change forever.