> The Rise of Magnus
>  by Duffman18
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

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

	The convoy continued to move forward.  Volksson counted each day that passed with a growing sense of concern.  The sharing of supplies had gone over well enough, but it wouldn’t last them forever and the more time that passed with no new land sighted, the more and more likely it became that they would run out of one or more of the necessities.  So far there hadn’t been any problems amongst the people either.  He supposed that it had to do with them being more unified through this event, but Volksson knew survival was a key facet of human nature.  And when others jeopardized your own survival . . . he feared what might happen if that situation came to pass.
“This is ridiculous!”  Volksson mentally cringed at the outburst.  Arnulf had been growing more and more vocal about how the supplies were being distributed as time had passed.  
“Arnulf,” Volksson began carefully.  “We all agreed on how the supplies were being distributed.  It is not your tribe alone that is suffering shortages.  There are growing numbers of those within my tribe who must go without more and more food and water.”  Arnulf stared angrily at Volksson before gesturing violently towards Gormensson.
“And why are we suffering shortages, Shadow?  We all agreed on the previous distribution and we all checked to make sure it would last us long enough to find a new home.  Yet, now we face shortages weeks before we feared we would face them.  Either we made some serious miscalculations or someone is not honoring their end of the agreement.  Isn’t that right Gormensson?!”
Gormensson looked outraged at the accusation.  
“Now look here you Eagle simpleton!  Simply because your tribe cannot control any of its baser impulses, do not dare to accuse us of hoarding food.  More likely your natural stupidity has kept you from keeping control of the very food you claim a shortage of.  Or perhaps you seek more food than you need to weaken us?!”
Volksson and Barca glanced at each other fearfully.  This was the last thing they had expected when this meeting had been called.  Two chiefs were at each other’s throats and both looked a hair’s breadth away from breaking out in violence.
“ENOUGH!” roared Volksson.  The two feuding chiefs looked over at him in surprise, as if they had forgotten he and Barca had even been there.
“This fighting is pointless.  Worse, it gives the daemons exactly what they want: our demise.  We must remain unified or court destruction.  And if you cannot control your anger enough to deal with these problems, than you will not be given a voice in these matters.”
Both Arnulf and Gormensson looked at Volksson, disbelief plain on their faces.  Even Barca looked at him, shocked at his proclamation.
“What exactly are you saying Shadow?” asked Arnulf, his voice quiet but laced with anger.  Volksson took a deep breath to steady himself before responding.
“I am saying that if you cannot confront these problems with a clear head than you should not be allowed to confront these problems at all.  Our race is at stake and I will not allow your dislike of each other to get in the way of our survival.  From now on the distribution of food, water, and supplies will be handled solely by me and Barca.  I expect that the two of you will provide accurate tallies of your current stores and make room for our representatives aboard your ships.”
Arnulf stood and roared in anger at the young man before him.  
“Impudent whelp! You think to order me . . .” Arnulf stopped speaking as he heard the sounds of weapons being drawn all around him.  Turning around slowly he saw ranks of Shadow troops all pointing their drawn weapons at him. When he turned back to face Volksson, he was met by eyes filled with a steely resolve.
“I do think to order you Arnulf.  If you have problems than we can discuss this calmly and rationally like men; but do not think to challenge me on my ship while surrounded by my men.”  Arnulf continued to stare at Volksson for another few moments before breaking out into hearty laughter, the hostility disappearing swiftly from his face.  It was replaced with a look that bespoke a new respect.
“Very well Volksson, I’ll support your proposal.  I’ll have my men ferry over an accurate tally by high noon tomorrow.”  Volksson smiled, a feeling of relief rushing through him.
“Thank you Arnulf.  And what of you Gormensson?”  The leader of the Lightning tribe returned Volksson’s gaze with barely concealed contempt.  
“It appears that I have little choice in the matter.  A tally of our stores will be given to you by high noon tomorrow.”
“An accurate tally I hope.”  Gormensson flinched as if he had been slapped.
“Of course.  But know this Volksson; we will have words about this in the future.”  And with that, the portly leader took his leave along with Arnulf.  When the two leaders had left the ship, Volksson slumped back into his chair relief flooding through him that this crisis had been averted.  Barca continued to stare at him in disbelief.
“Were you planning this when you called this meeting?”  Volksson looked over at him and gave his friend a tire smile.
“Would you believe if I told you no?”  Judging from the look on Barca’s face, he wouldn’t.  Volksson just sighed before gazing out at the disjointed line of ships on either side of his own.
“In all honesty I was just improvising.  It was obvious that the two of them were having problems with cooperating with each other and the Lighting and Eagle tribes have gone to war against each other enough times to warrant distrust between them.  But at the same time we can’t let their misgivings interfere with the survival of the human race.  Though to be honest with you I was terrified that Arnulf would kill me for this.”  Barca simply shook his head, marveling at Volksson’s impulsiveness.
“Ignoring Arnulf, you’ve definitely made an enemy of Gormensson today.  The Lightning Tribe may have a weaker head on its shoulders, but their arms are as strong as ever.  Be careful.”  Volksson just nodded at him.
“I think you should be returning to your ship Barca,” he said quietly.  “Night will fall soon and it would be best not to tempt fate by sailing between the Convoy in the dark.”
“Of course.  Then until the next clansmeet my friend.”
Time continued to flow onward and the situation within the Convoy continued to worsen, despite Volksson and Barca’s best efforts.  Supplies were dwindling and fights were beginning to break out.  It had gotten so bad that Volksson had posted a team of guards to watch over their supplies of food and water to keep people from stealing more than their allotted rations.  Meeting after meeting was held to try and hold the convoy together, but Gormensson continued to hold up the proceedings with his constant complaining and accusations of favoritism against Volksson.  But they all knew deep down that no matter what, every solution they came up with would only delay the inevitable.  If land was not spotted soon, than the Convoy might very well fall apart at the seams.
----
Celestia and Luna sat upon their golden thrones, their forms radiating power and authority.  The two of them had been hearing petitions for the better part of the day and neither one of them was enjoying it any more than they had at the start of the day.  The needs of the ponies of Equestria were always the same, with little to no variation or complexity.  It was honestly growing more and more boring with every passing day.  Worse, there was nothing to break the tedium for the two princesses.  The rout of the humans had seen the last of Equestria’s enemies broken and the golden age they had entered had resulted in less major crises for them to resolve.  
“Your highnesses!”  The shout broke them from their reverie as they stared piercingly down at the guard who had called them.
“What is it guard?” Celestia asked.  The guard quickly saluted before motioning a group of guards forward with his hoof.  The guards in question were carrying two ponies:  a unicorn and a pegasus.  Both looked as though they had been through a cataclysmic event.  The pegasi had bandages covering large swathes of his body and his eyes darted everywhere as if searching for something that only he could see.  
The unicorn, however, was far worse off.  His coat was matted and stained with what looked like dirt and dried blood.  Thin, spidery cracks ran up his horn and his legs shook uncontrollably.  His eyes had deep purple bags under them as if he hadn’t slept in days and the eyes themselves had shrunken to pinpricks as they constantly darted in every direction, never resting in one place for more than a few seconds.  Celestia looked sharply at her guards after giving the two ponies a quick once-over.
“What has happened to these two?”  The guards looked concernedly at each other before their captain responded.
“I’m not sure your highness.  We found these two near the edge of the Everfree in this state.  I thought it best to bring them before you.  Their wounds and their apparent mental states are indicative of no creature we have seen before.”  Celestia nodded once before looking at the shivering unicorn.  As she focused more intently on him she realized that his mouth was constantly moving, chanting some sort of mantra under his breath non-stop.
“Unicorn!”  The stallion looked up sharply, looking as though he had only just realized where he was.  “What has happened to you and your companion?”  The unicorn murmured something quietly in response her question, but Celestia could not quite make it out.
“Out with it foal!” Luna broke in.
“Ch- Ch- Chaos.  It was chaos your majesties:  pure and unadulterated chaos.”  And with that he promptly passed out, this one proclamation seemingly draining him of all his strength.  Celestia’s eyes narrowed at the unicorn’s words.  Chaos had been something fairly stripped from Equestria, the war with Humanity being the last bout of uncontrolled chaos let loose in Equestria.  Almost absentmindedly she motioned for the two broken ponies before her to be taken away.  As the guards dragged the two away, Luna turned towards her.
“I believe this is something we should investigate sister.  Whatever has occurred, it has had a strong effect on those two ponies.  It dares to attack our subjects.  Let us make it see why you do not interfere with our domain.”
----
“Land Ho!”  The call echoed through the chill, morning air.  From ship to ship and person to person, the news was carried with the speed of a lightning bolt throughout the whole of the convoy.  Volksson rushed out onto the bow of his ship, almost unable to believe the good news.  What he saw filled his heart with joy and as the land came into better and better view, he began to laugh uncontrollably as the stress of the journey here melted away.  Here was a new land before him and another chance for humanity to rebuild and prosper.  He could hear cheers and laughter coming from the other ships in the Convoy as the rest of humanity’s remnants voiced their joy and relief.
The ships quickly made towards the shore and in the absence of a proper port, beached themselves on the coast.  In a great flood, the masses of humanity poured off the ships and onto the first solid land they had seen in weeks.  As Volksson stepped onto the shore, he swept his gaze across the landscape taking in the view.  
“Beautiful isn’t it my friend?”  Volksson was shaken from his reverie by a hand clapping him on the shoulder.  Looking back he saw the smiling face of Barca looking back at him.
“It is Barca.  But it’s more what it represents that makes it all the greater.”
“And what does it represent Volksson?”  Volksson smiled back at his friend before going to join the rest of his tribe.
“Hope, Barca.  It represents hope.  For all of us.”
----
Days passed as the tribes worked to hammer out temporary settlements along the coast.  Dozens of small settlements sprung up almost overnight centered on the larger settlements set up by the Eagle, Shadow, Thunder, and Lightning tribes.  The four large tribes had set up four settlements all contained within a central palisade wall.  In this manner, they could keep an eye on one another until more permanent arrangements could be made.  But despite the apparent unity of the tribes, tensions were growing greater and greater every passing day.  
While onboard the Convoy, tribes had been something only loosely adhered to.  Here on the mainland was another story entirely.  The tribal system had come back in force as foraging for resources had allowed for the tribes to restock their own stores.  And with no further need for interdependence, the tribes had almost unconsciously settled back into their old ways.  Volksson and Barca were both worried that if something was not done to strengthen the bonds between the tribes in these new lands soon, than the only outcome would be war.  And any war now would sound the death knell of mankind.  So there was only one course any of them of them could see that might allow them to remain united in this new land.  

They would have to call a clansmeet . . .


> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	It was finally time.  Volksson approached the large central hall that dominated the landscape of the major tribes’ shared settlement.  Today would mark the first day of the Clansmeet between the Shadow, Thunder, Eagle, and Lightning tribe.  It was meant to serve as a way of establishing firm boundaries between the tribes and parceling out land to all of the tribes who had survived both the Cataclysm and the Exodus.  Accompanying Volksson were his six greatest soldiers serving as his honor guard for the clansmeet.  Volksson himself was clad in the finest iron armor with the sigil of his clan, a black open eye, emblazoned on the chest plate.
As they approached the central hall they could see milling crowds of citizens from every tribe.  When Volksson and his entourage approached them, the crowds quickly parted allowing them to walk in unimpeded.  The interior of the building was as exact a replica of the original clansmeet hall from the homeland as could be made with their available resources.  Great, spiraling columns rose up to the ceiling framing a central walkway towards a massive oaken table.  Unlike the u-shaped table from the original building, the new table was a rough square to represent the four tribes who remained from the original twelve.  
Already sitting at the table was Barca with his bodyguards standing just behind him, holding the banner of two crossed thunderbolts up high.  He smiled up at Volksson as he walked in.
“Well old friend, the day is finally here.  Are you ready?”  Volksson thumped him lightly on the shoulder before taking his seat.
“Of course not, but that hasn’t stopped me yet.” 
“Well at the very least you’re honest Volksson.”  Both leaders turned to see Arnulf entering the room.  He was clad in gleaming iron armor, polished to a silvery sheen with his warriors wearing similarly polished armor and holding the clan’s banner of an eagle in flight aloft.
“I’m glad to see you as well Arnulf,” Volksson responded.  “Now we just have to wait for Gormensson and we can finally begin.”  As time passed the three leaders found themselves growing more and more exasperated.  Gormensson had been growing more and more distant from the other leaders since Volksson had overridden him aboard the convoy, but this was probably the most overt insult he had given them so far.  Arnulf was feeling the insult far more than the others however.
“Volksson, as much as I support the idea of this meeting if Gormensson fails to show his face I will be forced to return to my own tribe.  There is still much to be done before we are comfortably established.”
“I understand completely Arnulf,” Volksson replied hurriedly.  “But we must give him some more time.  Regardless of our personal feelings about Gormensson’s actions, there are many important issues that must be resolved now.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”  The three leaders turned to stare at the new arrival as Gormensson and his retinue walked through the door.  He was dressed in fine robes and wore a jeweled crown on his brow.  Beside him strode his bodyguards dressed in gleaming brass armor polished to a golden sheen with their clan’s banner being held aloft:  A storm cloud disgorging a forked lightning bolt.
“Gormensson,” Arnulf said, practically growling the name.  “How good of you to join us at last; we were afraid you had gotten lost on the way here.”
Gormensson drew his head up with a sniff.  
“Your concern is . . . touching, but no.  I simply had to prepare myself for this meeting properly.  Some of us do care about the impressions we make.”
“Enough.”  Volksson stood up from his seat as he stared down the two bickering leaders.  “This is exactly why this meeting has been called.  We have much to do in order to ensure that our race survives this trial and your bickering only makes this that much more difficult.  If we must deal with your own personal issues first then so be it; anything to be rid of your bickering.”

----

Celestia and Luna soared over the landscape, their armored forms and extended wings casting shadows over the land.  Below them ponies who saw them pass overhead quickly prostrated themselves before their rulers until they had passed by.  Further and further they flew, until they were hovering above the clearing where the unicorn and pegasus had been attacked.  With little more than a thought the princesses commanded the trees’ canopies to part and the two alicorns descended into the darkness of the forest.
“Do you feel anything Luna?”  Her sister shook her head, an expression of confusion marring her features. 
“Nothing sister.  It’s as if there was never anything here at all.”  Celestia cast her senses further outwards, the spell weaving its ways through the trees, caves, and burrows of the forest.  But every attempt had the same result:  nothing.  Every time Celestia detected absolutely nothing.  That shouldn't be possible!  Even if whatever was here was hiding itself she should be able to feel the small sparks of life within the plants and trees, the animals that called this place home, the energy and life that naturally permeated the forest.  So why wasn’t there . . . wait.
“Luna,” she said.  “I want you to stretch your senses out to their limit.  When that’s done I want you to tell me exactly what you sense.”  Luna just gave a nod and closed her eyes in concentration.  Celestia could feel the power left in the wake of Luna’s spell and felt the spell as it passed over her.  A moment passed . . . then two . . . then three.  Finally Luna opened her eyes and the confusion on her face was now tempered with wariness. 
“Well?”  Asked Celestia, her face grim.
“Nothing sister.  I couldn’t feel anything at all.”
“Exactly Luna.  Where are the animals?  We haven’t heard much of anything since we arrived and we have sensed absolutely nothing.”  Luna’s face took on the same grim set as her sister.
“Whatever attacked our subjects must be behind it then.”  Celestia swept her gaze around the clearing, every muscle alert and ready for whatever might come after them.
“It would appear that way Luna.  But if that’s true, then we should be extremely careful.  Whatever could cause something like this is something to be wary of.”  
Following this revelation the two alicorns began to carefully and thoroughly search the forest, doing their best to suppress any worry at the tomb-like stillness that pervaded the very air around them.  The two immortals searched and searched, their eyes scanning their surroundings with laser-like precision, muscles sculpted in the fires of war tensed in readiness for an attack that never came.
For hours the two searched, combing every inch of the forest until the time to raise the moon to make way for night had come.  And finally, the two of them facing each other with exhaustion evident on their faces, they had to face facts.  They had found absolutely nothing.
“Celestia,” Luna began.  “Perhaps we should return to the castle.  We can return tomorrow, fully rested and with a full contingent of royal guard to assist us in our search.”  Celestia wanted to argue, but she knew that Luna was right.  They hadn’t found anything in all this time, and it wasn’t likely that they would find anything should they keep searching especially in their current state.  She gave Luna a tired nod, before the two of them unfurled their wings and took flight. . .  Only to fall on their royal flanks a moment later.
“What in the hay was that?!”  When they looked up they saw for the first time what the victims of this unknown force had described.  The branches of the trees all around them had stretched and distended until they were inextricably intertwined with one another, forming a thick wall of wood above Celestia and Luna.  More disturbingly, these branches were not fixed and even intertwined with others continued to write, twist, distend, and change themselves, never stopping for even a second.
“So you choose now to reveal yourself coward?!  When we are tired and worn?  Show yourself!”  Celestia’s declaration rang throughout the darkened woods, but soon echoed back at her with certain words echoing louder than others.
“Coward . . . Tired . . . Worn . . .” And as each word was thrown back at her she felt fear and exhaustion seeping through her, the weakness overcoming her natural discipline and mental fortitude.  Glancing over at Luna, Celestia knew that she was feeling the same way.  But why shouldn’t they feel this way?  They had been searching fruitlessly for so long and now their best efforts were being mocked and thrown back into their faces.  It would probably be easier to just lie down and rest.  She could feel her eyes drooping as she grew more and more tired. If she just rested . . . then . . . she could . . .
As her eyelids drooped and the feelings of bone-tired weariness threatened to overtake her, she felt an explosion of pain that shot adrenaline through her system and woke her instantly.  Looking around wildly she saw Luna with a grim set to her face standing right in front of her.  Celestia had just recovered from her ordeal so it took a moment for her to put the pieces together, but when she did her mouth dropped open in shock.
“Luna, you . . . you . . . hit me.”  Luna just nodded as she swept her eyes from side to side.
“Indeed I did sister, but it was for the greater good.  We can’t allow this thing to get into our heads.  Now come one!  We have to get out of here . . . now.”

----

The map was laid out before the human leaders, detailing the lands they had already explored and with tribal markings where the various tribes and clans had settled upon their arrival.  Doling out territory wasn’t too difficult right now.  Their tribes were much reduced from what they were in the homeland and the minor clans would live with the major tribes.  The real problem with dealing out territory was simple:  the future.  As the tribes expanded they would require more and more land for farming, keeping their animals, living, etc.  In the past, the tribes had simply expanded and, in many cases, went to war over land.  But here and now war was unacceptable.  It would ruin any chances of human recovery and they all knew it, which was what had motivated them to solve the issue diplomatically. . . Not that the necessity stopped them from wanting to kill each other a thousand times over.
“The northern mountains belong to the Eagle tribe!”  
“Ridiculous! The mountains have an abundance of resources on and around them that the Lighting Tribe could make far better use of than you barbaric fools.”
Volksson sighed.  As he and Barca had both suspected from the beginning the personal bickering between Arnulf and Gormensson had proven to be the major obstruction to the clansmeet.  He had been able to remove himself from the territorial talks relatively early on.  He had requested the coastlines, a set number of miles inland, and claims to the lands to the east.  His claims were readily accepted as the Eagle and Lightning tribes had both identified rich veins of ores and natural resources along with fertile land to the north.  Naturally both wanted to stake a claim on what could be extremely valuable land within a few years.
Barca had done something similar to Volksson.  He had requested a portion of the western coastlines, a set number of miles inland, and claims on lands to the west.  With the somewhat less desirable land out of the way, much of the central territory was up for grabs by the Eagle and Lightning tribes.  Thankfully Barca had the good nature to interject this time so that Volksson could rest his raw throat.  He had never yelled more than he had today.
“This is getting ridiculous.  There is more than enough land for both of your tribes and dependent clans.  Just split it down the middle so we can move on from this.  We all have a lot on our plates.”  Both Arnulf and Gormensson stared at each other and the others before sighing and nodding their assent.
“Very well,” sighed Arnulf.  “I will take the east and Gormensson can have the west.”  
“That’s all very well and good,” said Gormensson.  “But that still leaves the matters of the resources the mountains contain.  Who will get a claim on them?  Unlike the territory it will be far more difficult to split those down the middle.”
“Will it?” asked Volksson.  “I say establish a mining settlement between your lands with representatives from both tribes present.  You will then split the amount of materials collected so that each tribe receives half.  I will also send some of my troops there to ensure that the arrangement is kept.”  Arnulf nodded in acceptance, but Gormensson’s face quickly took on a suspicious cast.
“And what is to keep your troops from seizing a share of our resources Shadow?”  Volksson felt another wave of irritation stab through him at Gormensson’s stubbornness.
“The troops I assume you will send for a start.  And secondly I hope that you will open trade with us for those resources so I will have no need to steal them.”  
“And what makes you think we will trade with you?  
“You would deny your fellow man the means to defend ourselves?!” Barca roared, surging to his feet rage contorting his features.
“Peace, Barca,” said Volksson.  “It is of course his right to decide how he distributes these resources. . .”
“Thank you Shadow.  Maybe I was wrong about you.  You might very well have some sophistication after all.”
“Though of course he will most likely starve if he doesn’t trade with me, but it is still his right.”  
“What?!”  Volksson looked over to him, an expression of complete innocence on his face.
“Well I’m sure you noticed that the mountains are mineral rich, but not quite fertile.  Growing or foraging would be very difficult there, as opposed to the coasts which have the opposite problem.  It’s likely that without us giving you some of our food, your tribe may very well begin starving within a few years.” 
“I . . . you . . . I mean . . .” Gormensson sputtered and stammered as Volksson simply stared at him, an innocent smirk on his face.  After a moment, Gormensson gave one last sigh before turning to look at Volksson with a look that was equal measures utter loathing and resigned defeat.
“Very well.  Since it appears we have no choice but to acquiesce to your . . . request . . . we will accept.  Your surplus food for our surplus resources.”
“The amount of surplus, based on what you need, to be determined after your first haul of resources are brought in of course.”  Gormensson flinched before nodding in agreement.
“Excellent!”  Exclaimed Arnulf.  “Now that all of this is out of the way we can begin moving on to the most important issue before us.”
“Agreed,” said Barca.  “As there are only four tribes remaining, all of which are severely depleted, we cannot afford to war amongst ourselves or to be divided when unknown threats rear their heads.  I suggest we all sign an alliance to ensure that we fight together against our enemies and keep the peace amongst ourselves.”  There were murmurings of agreement, but there was one voice conspicuously absent from the deliberations.
“Volksson?” asked Barca.  “Do you agree to the alliance?”  Volksson swept his eyes around the table, meeting the gaze of each leader in turn before answering.
“Barca is correct in that we need to ensure we remain unified in these dark times.  But what good are words and pieces of paper in this new land?  No longer are there other powerful tribes to counterbalance our own and only the four of us remain to lead our people.  An alliance is something that can and has been broken before when the fortunes of our tribes have changed.  It cannot be relied upon, not anymore.”
“If not an alliance, then what can we do to ensure the unity of our peoples?”  It was here that Volksson hesitated.  He had been planning for this moment for some time, but now that the time was here he was unsure of his plan.  In the past humanity had been bound by ties of blood, kinship, and a shared cultural heritage that had allowed at least some measure of unity.  But even then the tribes had never made lasting agreements of unity.  No tribe was willing to trust another tribe so thoroughly and in doing so risk their own livelihood.  So it only made what he wanted to do that much more difficult.
“An alliance isn’t good enough,” he began.  “But at the same time there is nothing in either our history or culture that grants a stronger measure of unity than that.”
“Get to the point already,” said Gormensson lazily.  Volksson continued forward, undeterred by Gormensson’s comments.
“Since there is nothing that gives us what we need then we must make it ourselves.  That is why I propose a new form of government that will tie our tribes and their descendants together in unity for generations to come:  The Confederacy.”

----

They had been running for what felt like hours.  Celestia and Luna dove through the now tangled underbrush, weaving in and out of trees in the darkness.  The living carpet of branches above their heads continue to seethe and twist as it followed them through the night, merging and entwining themselves with others.  No matter how fast or how far they ran, the two sisters could not escape what was following them.  
“How much farther till we can escape this madness?!”  Roared out Luna.  
“I don’t know Luna.  We should have been out already!”  As they continued to run Celestia finally noticed a detail that until now had escaped her.  When they had entered the forest they had entered through the canopy into a clearing.  As they had landed they had left hoof prints in the ground from the force of their landing.  They had just passed that clearing again.
Her mind began to race as she tried to figure out how that could possibly work.  They had started out there and had returned there to take their leave.  Then they had begun to run in a straight line away from the clearing.  There was no way that they could have been turned around in the forest; they had both made sure of that.  So the only possible way that they could have passed through here again was . . .
As the realization finally struck her, she ground to a halt with Luna echoing her movement further ahead.
“Tia, what are you doing?  We have to go!” 
“No Luna,” said Celestia shaking her head.  “We couldn’t escape if we wanted to.  It all finally makes sense.” 
“What do you mean?”
“The strange emptiness of the woods, not being able to find anything that could be the source of this anomaly, and finally us not being to escape even while running full out:  It was an illusion.”  Luna’s eyes widened at the implications.
“So this was all . . .”
“A trap?  Yes indeed my pretty little princess.  To be honest I was wondering when you’d figure it out.”
	 
	
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“The Confederacy?”   The other two leaders present shared a similar look of confusion to Gormensson as they strove to understand Volksson’s idea.
“Yes,” said Volksson breathlessly.  It was the time to strike while the iron was hot.  They needed to understand the necessity of this agreement and all the benefits it would confer upon them in the long run.
“The Confederacy would be the political organ that would tie us together in these troubled times and give us the ability to face any enemy that may come against us unified and invincible.”  Arnulf was the first to break the silence that followed this pronouncement.
“That sounds all well and good Volksson, but what exactly will this Confederacy of yours entail.  Somehow I doubt it will be a simple solution to our current problems.”  Volksson nodded to him.
“You are right my friend.  It will not be easy, but it will be worth it.  The Confederacy would involve us forming a new nation, a new people out of the disparate tribes we are now and have always been in the past.  We would form a council between the four of us and we would control not each of our tribes, but decide the future of our people as a whole.  We would also elect one of us to be raised to a position above the council who would be able to overrule the council as well as provide a tie breaker in the case of a stalemate” Silence followed as they tried to process just what Volksson was proposing.  And another few moments of shocked silence followed when they finally understood his plans.  Then the meeting hall exploded into a frenzy of noise and motion.
“Are you insane?!”
“It would be giving up our freedom!”
“I would have to be even further associated with the filth of the other tribes!”  Volksson simply weathered the storm of noise that his fellow chiefs were unleashing, knowing that if he interrupted them it would only make it that much harder to address their concerns.  After a few moments the other chiefs finally ceased their shouting and slumped back into their seats, all of them glaring balefully at Volksson.
“I understand, more than any of you, how it sounds,” he began.  “I have been turning this idea over in my mind for weeks now trying to see if there was any concern about it I could not address and I believe that I can address all of your concerns.  Just ask me one at a time if you please.”  Barca was the first to voice his concern.
“Volksson, this . . . this is a large step.  Never before has our race united in such a way.  The people would never accept having their tribal identity being ripped away in such a way.”
“Don’t worry my friend,” replied Volksson.  “This would not cost their identities.  The Council of 4 that we would form would enable us to lead the four tribes as if they were one, but we would never ask them to think of themselves as anything other than their own tribes.” 
“But even if you do that,” interjected Arnulf.  “Something like this would cost the freedom of the tribe in that it would be forced to help the others even at their own cost.  It would be giving up their freedom and sovereignty.” 
“Unfortunately Arnulf, you are partially correct.  There are things that will need to change.  No tribe will have the ability to refuse helping another as they will be beholden to the Council.  However, in dealing with their own issues and purely internal matters, they will have complete autonomy.”  
“But you still expect us to give up some of our sovereignty?”  
“What else would you have us do Arnulf?!”  The other three leaders flinched back from Volksson’s sudden outburst.  Throughout the whole of the meeting he had kept a level head and had not given into rage or the petty bickering that had characterized almost half of the negotiations thus far.   To see him give voice to an outburst like this was telling of how invested he was in this idea.
“We are in a strange land.  Much of our race is dead, or too close to it to be of any use.  The resources we have are barely enough to keep us alive, never mind rebuilding and sustaining humanity.  Worse still, we know not when the daemons shall come for us again or even what new horrors may lay in waiting in this new land.  What is a little sovereignty when compared with the salvation of the whole of our race?”  The others looked at him for a while longer.  Even Gormensson’s acerbic tongue was stilled in the face of Volksson’s speech.  Volksson swept his gaze to each leader in turn as he spoke.
“It is now or never.  We either unite in the face of adversity and triumph, or we remain divided and fall through the cracks of time into obscurity and death.  The three of you hold the power to decide the fate of humanity and where it stands now and will one day stand.  So I will put it to a vote.  All in favor of forming the Human Confederacy raise your hands.”  
Volksson raised his hand and waited to see how the others would react to his plea.  On the outside he seemed perfectly calm, but on the inside he was terrified.  Should they refuse he honestly feared the destruction of the human race, though whether it would occur quickly or over the course of decades he did not know.  The other leaders considered his offer carefully, each weighing the potential benefits against the immediate costs to them personally and to their tribes.  
What could only have been a few moments dragged on for what seemed like an eternity or Volksson, the tension in the room thick as the ozone after a lightning strike.  Finally, all three of the tribal leaders gave each other one last look before turning their gaze to Volksson and raising their hands simultaneously.

----

“Who are you?!”  The only response that Celestia got was that infuriating laughter that seemed to come at them from all directions.
“Oh Tia,” the voice chuckled.  “What fun would it be if I just told you what my name was straight out?  No, you’re going to have to work for that little revelation.”
“Curse you foul creature, release us from this prison!”  roared Luna, her voice escalating to truly awesome levels of sound.
“And the peanut gallery chimes in, what a delight!”  Luna began to grind her teeth as she tried to reign in the anger she felt at this humiliating treatment.
“Aww, don’t look so down little Woona,” he said, his voice taking a mocking, babyish tone.  “Here why don’t you cool off with a nice drink?  On me, of course.”  A small flash of light was all the warning she got before a sudden, localized downpour formed over her.
“What is this?” she asked, trying to get out of the way of the downpour and failing spectacularly as she slipped on the suddenly soggy ground.  The voice failed to answer for a moment and the two sisters heard a strange slurping sound.
“Sorry just sampling this delicious beverage.  Admittedly one of my own design, but chocolate milk is chocolate milk.  How can you not love it?”
“ENOUGH!”  Roared Celestia, her temper finally getting the better of her as she desperately tried to find out where the being causing all of this madness actually was.
“Release us from this place now, before I make you do so.”  The voice sighed in exasperation before answering.
“You really are no fun Celestia you know that?  You’re taking all of this far too seriously.  But fine, if you really want out of here so badly than here are you are.” There was the sound of snapping fingers and a flash of light, but when it passed Celestia and Luna were no longer in the forest at nighttime.  A strong sense of relief came over her as she took a deep breath of air and felt the sun shining on her face as the air rushed quickly past her face. . . wait.
Looking down suddenly Celestia was stunned to realize that she was . . . falling.  She and Luna were tumbling down through the air at breakneck speeds and far below she could see the sharp rocks that lined one of the northern coastlines.  She frantically unfurled her wings and beat them as hard as she could to arrest her fall, coming to a halt as she hovered in the air.  
But before she could think any more about her surroundings she saw Luna continue falling past her, her wings still tightly clamped to her sides.
“Luna!” she screamed, the foreign emotion of fear coming over her for one of the few times in her long life.  
“Celestia!” she screamed back and Celestia could hear the panic in her voice.  “My wings won’t open; something’s keeping them stuck to my sides!”  Diving down as quickly as she could, Celestia struggled to reach her flailing sister before it was too late.  Feeling the first tingling of g-forces beginning to pull at her face, Celestia finally reached Luna and was able to sweep her into her hooves.  Both sisters quickly used their magic to slow themselves down as they finally came to a halt mid-air.
“Hahahahahahah!  Oh . . . oh that was priceless!”  The two sisters spun around to finally see the creature that had been tormenting them.  It was one of the strangest things either of them had ever seen.  The thing’s body was long and sinuous, easily towering over the two sisters when it stood fully upright.  All along this sinuous body were a host of body parts from a variety of animals and creatures seemingly thrown on without any rhyme or reason behind it.  There were the antlers of a stag and a goat, the head of a pony, a feathered wing and leathery, draconic wing on its back, and the paw of a lion and talons of a griffon.  Further down his lower body was no less strange with a reptilian and hooved leg.  
“What are you?” Celestia asked, projecting her disgust at this abomination in her voice to hide the slight tremor of fear that underscored her speech.  The thing simply laughed at her before answering.
“Didn’t I say you’d have to work for that revelation Tia?  I’m sure I did.  Ah well, I suppose that you saving your sister from that sticky situation is enough to warrant a little exposition.”  He took a deep breath before launching into a booming speech, the sound matching the Royal Canterlot Voice in its sheer volume.
“I AM THE CREEPING CHAOS, THE EVER SPREADING ROT WHICH BRINGS DOWN EMPIRES.  I AM THE MAD KING OF ALL, THE HARBINGER OF CHANGE AND . . . the mayor of a little village up the coast, you should really visit sometime.”
Celestia started as she realized that the strange creature was now leaning over her showing her a strange brochure for a coastal village.  
“It’s quite nice in the summer, though the throngs of tourists put some people off.”  Celestia lashed out at him, trying to drive him away, but felt nothing as her hoof struck only air.  
“Oh, felt the breeze from that one.  Though next time I recommend aiming if you actually want to hit something.”  Celestia could feel her anger and frustration building.  This creature was mocking her and her sister and she wasn’t able to do anything to him!  By Tarturus what was he?!
“What are you?!” Celestia screamed, her frustration getting the better of her.  The creature just gazed at her with a look of affected innocence on his face.
“Did you not hear my epic monologue?  I think I answered that question already.  Though if you really want to hear it again, I would be happy to oblige.  I always knew I would be great on the stage.”  And Celestia broke.  The rage, frustration, and sheer unadulterated hatred and irritation for the thing in front of her finally got the better of her.  Massive bolts of superheated energy burst from her horn, all converging on the chaotic figure before her.
The bolts struck the creature, each bolt a miniature, white-hot sun unto itself, and exploded outward.  A rush of superheated air rushed by her and Luna as steam rose up from the roiling waters below.  Celestia felt a wing drape over her shoulder.
“Are you alright sister?”  Celestia drew in a deep, shuddering breath before answering.
“I . . . I believe so Luna.  I didn’t mean to use that much power on him, it was overkill.  But he was just so . . . so . . .”
“Irritating?” Luna offered.  Celestia chuckled a bit.
“Yes.  Irritating is the definitely the right word.  But at the very least he will no longer bother us.  Though I am still concerned as to how a being as seemingly powerful and twisted as he was able to rise up and operate in Equestria without us knowing.”
“Oh I know exactly what you mean.”  The two sisters froze at the sound of the familiar voice joining in their conversation.
“Personally I hate it when there’s something I don’t know.”  Celestia and Luna turned towards where the tremendous energies had collided and their jaws dropped open.  The creature sat there on some sort of chair with a pair of massive, oversized plastic sunglasses on its face, as it held up a metal sheet towards itself.  
“But I must say thank you for the sudden and unexpected tan.  It was extremely refreshing.”  Celestia and Luna couldn’t move for a full minute as they tried to comprehend what they were seeing.  This . . .thing had just survived a full blast of energy from Celestia.  That was a blast that had brought dragons to their knees and yet this creature seemed completely unaffected by it!  Eventually however they both looked at each other and nodded.  They both knew what had to be done.  As one they flew towards the creature, their horns lighting up as they prepared their magic.
With a brief flash their armor, resplendent and shimmering from the after-effects of being summoned, covered their forms.  Glowing, ethereal blades formed of condensed moon and sun light burst into life clutched tightly in their telekinetic grips.
“Oh we’re fighting now?  Fine by me.”  The creature sat up from his chair and used his tanning board to block the princesses’ first strikes.  The battle became a whirlwind of activity as both princesses strived to hit the creature in front of them without success.  No matter the attack it just seemed to sidestep it with contemptuous ease.  And this went on and on as the three immortals struggled for dominance.  Eventually Luna and Celestia pulled back from the melee, their need to rest, even for a brief moment, finally overtaking them.
“What is he?” Luna panted, her breathing heavy and labored.  
“I have no idea Luna,” replied Celestia.  “But we have to end him now before he becomes an even greater threat.”
“While that’s all very dramatic, I have to admit the two of you are growing more and more boring.  Any chance we can just call it a day?  I have a lot of chaos related things to do.”  The two sisters started as the creature’s head suddenly appeared between them sans body.  As they flinched backwards the head zoomed back towards its body upon which it was restored to its rightful place.
“I don’t care how much power you have monster,” Celestia hissed.  “We will end you right here and now.  There has been no enemy we have not been able to defeat and you will not be the first.”  The creature clapped its mismatched claws together as it began to laugh its unearthly laughter at them.
“Oh, yes the humans!  That was a brilliant, little unjust war by the way.  Couldn’t have done it better myself. Wait . . . yes I could, but still good job though.”  He then gave out a sigh of frustration.
“Still, I wasn’t kidding about you becoming more and more boring Tia.  I honestly don’t want to keep fighting you.”  He swept one of his arms towards the expanses of land behind him.
“There’s an entire kingdom to play with and you two are just getting in the way of it.  So what should I do with you?”  He began to pace across the air, his face scrunched up in thought.
“I could send you far away, but then you’d probably come back and bother me.  I could kill you, but I’d rather not.  I could turn you into something, but what . . .?”  Celestia and Luna acted perfectly in unison as they lunged at him at top speed, swords outstretched and aiming for his head.  The creature’s head snapped towards them, a look of honest surprise and indignation adorning his features.  The instant before their swords made contact, its fingers snapped and the two princesses suddenly saw nothing but white, burning light before they disappeared.

----

The castle was in chaos.  The princesses had both left to deal with the strange reports from the woods, but they had been gone for days now and the strange phenomena were spreading.  Weather patterns were getting further and further out of control, sightings of strange, new animals were being reported every day, and the guards were stretched thin enough as it is.  What could have possibly happened to delay the princesses for this long?  A group of royal councilors had met in the empty throne room to discuss what to do next.
“We should wait for the princesses to return before making any major decisions.”
“What?! Are we that dependent on them?  This council was made for this reason exactly.  We need to mobilize the rest of the military to deal with whatever is causing these phenomena.  We can worry about the princesses later.”
“That sounds dangerously close to treason!”
“How dare you, you insufferable coward!”  The council soon devolved into a cacophony of voices, all trying to drown out the voices of the others with their own.  As their argument began to peak, there was a massive explosion of multicolored lights and sound behind them.  As they turned to see what new irritant had decided to make itself known, they saw a creature straight from their nightmares.
“What . . . what are you?” One of the councilors asked, his voice quavering with fear.  With a quick snap of his fingers, the twin thrones of the princesses snapped together and the creature reclined on them.
“I have so many names!  But you can call me Discord, King of Equestria.”
	
> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“How dare you?!”  One of the ponies rose up from the table to gaze at the abominable being that lounged before him.
“Our only rulers are the princesses, not some spawn of Tartarus like you!”  Discord put a paw on his chest and adopted a hurt expression.
“I’m hurt.  Really, that was just heartless captain.  Don’t you know how cruel words can be?”  At this Discord pretended to swoon over the newly made throne as the captain of the guard staring at him only felt himself growing angrier at the creature’s display with every passing second.
“Where are the princesses, creature?  You wouldn’t come here so blatantly without knowing something.”  Discord rose up from the throne, the façade of his earlier display gone and his voice once more upbeat and filled with mischief.  
“Nowhere, everywhere, and somewhere in-between.  But that’s not important right now.  What is important is that with them gone, I am the most powerful being in Equestria.  And as such, I rule here.  But it appears that I need to make sure that I have at least some support from you.  So I just have one question for you captain, and I’d just love for you to answer me.”  The captain glared at him for a moment but otherwise did nothing.  He started as he suddenly felt Discord appear behind him.
“How would you like to be free of loyalty?”  As he asked the question, Discord touched the captain with a single claw and the captain shuddered as a sense of utter numbness washed over him.  For a moment it felt as if he was dead to the world, there was no sensation, no color, and no stimulation.  There was only: Discord.  Turning around to face Discord and his former peers, who all sat shaking in fear at their conference table, the now grey-coated stallion threw up his hoof in salute.
“Captain Broken Chain, reporting for duty your majesty!”  Discord clapped his paws together gleefully at the pony’s sudden change in attitude.  
“And it even comes with a change in color scheme.  Honestly, grey suits you far better captain.”  Turning towards the other assembled ponies, Discord offered them an ultimatum.  
“You’ve seen what I can do should I wish it.  Will you accept my reign as King of Equestria or won’t you?”  The ponies huddled around the conference table turned to each other and began debating hurriedly under their breath, occasionally casting furtive glances at either Discord or the newly-turned Broken Chain. 
After a few moments, they finally ended their debate.  A few of them walked over to Discord and gave brief bows to him before standing aside Broken Chain.  The rest stood at the conference table, staring defiantly up at Discord.  
“So you won’t join the new order?”  They shook their heads at him.
“We swore to serve the princesses and no other.  That is an oath that we will not turn our backs on.”  Discord seemed to consider that for a moment, before flashing them a quick smile.
“Impressive!  I can respect that and, just cause I like you a lot, I’m not even going to punish you for it.”  The ponies looked stunned and even those who had joined Discord seemed surprised that the draconequus was not doing more to the loyalists.
“You’re . . . you’re not going to do anything to us?” Discord just laughed as he and the turncoats began to leave the throne room.
“Of course not . . . that’s what guards are for.”  And with that, he snapped his talons together and the guards stationed around the room suddenly snapped to attention, the same grey color that had overtaken Broken Chain covering them as well.  Discord and his entourage left the throne room, accompanied by the screams of the unfortunate ponies within as the heavy, wooden doors slammed shut behind them.

----

Celestia lay on her side, incredible pain pulsing through her body.  She had no idea how long she been like this, but it felt like an eternity.  With a great effort she rose unsteadily to her hooves and began to scan her immediate surroundings.  What she saw did nothing to lift her flagging spirits.  The ground beneath her hooves was hard, weathered stone. Above her, the sky was filled with a roiling mass of storm clouds which emitted great forks of lightning every few seconds.  
As for her immediate surroundings, the plain of rock stretched out for miles in all directions with on noticeable features dotting the landscape except for what appeared to be a great mountain of black rock off in the distance.  It towered above the landscape, but its summit was what drew Celestia’s attention most.  The mountain’s summit shone with an unmatched brilliance that dwarfed even the light of the Equestrian sun. Celestia could not make out the source of the light, but from even her brief observation it was clear that wherever this wasteland was, the only major light source was that of the mountain’s summit.
As the alicorn contemplated this latest issue, she heard a gasp coming from her right.  Turning her head towards the sound, she was greeted with the sight of her sister curled up on the ground in much the same position she had been only a moment ago.
“Luna!”  Celestia ran to her sister’s side as quickly as she could, hoping against hope that she was alright.  When she reached her, Luna began to stir and looked up at her sister.
“Celestia?  What happened?  Where’s Discord?!”  
“I don’t know Luna,” she replied, as she helped Luna to stand.  “All I know is that he sent us here. . . Not that I know where here is.”
“So what do we do know?” asked Luna.  “Without an idea of where we are, we can’t just start flying back to Equestria.”  
“That mountain looks to be the only landmark around for miles.  Maybe we can get a better idea of where we are from the summit.”  
With that the two sisters unfurled their wings and launched themselves into the dark skies above.  The two flew through the stormy skies towards the mountain in the distance.  But regardless of how fast they flew the mountain drew no closer while they grew more and more exhausted.  Eventually, the alicorns could go no further and landed heavily on the ground, both exhausted.
“It’s just like back at the forest,” panted Luna.  “Do you think this is Discord playing tricks on us again?”  Celestia considered this for a moment before shaking her head.
“It’s possible I suppose, but Discord is Chaos itself.  Somehow I doubt he would do the same thing to us twice in a row.  No, whatever this is I don’t think Discord has done any more than send us here.”
“So what should we do now?  If not Discord, than something here is keeping us from moving forward.”  Celestia sighed heavily as she looked once more at the mountain looming in the distance.
“I . . . I don’t know Luna.”

----

It was finally beginning.  The people of the four tribes and beyond gathered in great numbers at the center of the territory which had been dubbed the Councillands.  It had been two weeks since the announcement of the decision to form the Confederation and today was the ceremony which would see the formal appointment of the Confederation’s leader.  Between the crowds of people, an aisle had been cleared leading to a large wooden table with five expertly carved seats.  At four of these seats were the chieftains of the four most powerful tribes of man.  However there was one noticeable difference: The Shadow clan was being led by a chieftain other than Volksson.  While the subject of whispered rumors, the reason for this soon became clear.
With the sound of horns and drums, the crowd turned as one towards the end of the aisle to see a coterie of heavily armed guards.  Each bore blades of the finest iron and leather armor adorned their bodies.  There were four guards in total and from the markings on their armor it was clear that they were all of a different tribe.  In the midst of these guards stood Volksson Shadow, the man whom many rightly regarded as the architect of the Confederation.  He was dressed in fine furs dyed black to match his tribe’s colors with a purple sash around him which bore the mark of the new Confederation: A field divided into four parts with the emblem of each tribe filling the empty spaces.
As Volksson approached the raised platform, the seated chieftains stood up to greet him.  Volksson continued moving forwards until he stood right in front of them, and then bowed his head in respect to them.  Chief Barca stepped forwards to address him.
“Volksson of the Shadows.  You have been instrumental in the creation of this Confederacy and no man here can doubt your intentions.  As a result we have unanimously chosen you as the first leader of this new body.  Do you accept this honor?”
“I do.”
“Do you swear to continue the traditions of our ancestors and honor the laws of the gods?”
“I do.”
“And do you swear to uphold the honor of this new position, and work for the betterment of the whole of mankind above yourself?”
“I do so swear.” Barca smiled as he and the others brought forth a wrought iron circlet from the table behind them.  The four of them then took the circlet as one and crowned Volksson with it.
“Then rise, a King amongst men, and take your rightful place.”  The crowed let a thunderous cheer as Volksson stood tall and took his place at the head of the table.  And so the Human Confederation was born, amidst the cheers of a renewed and hopeful people.

----

Captain Golden Shield threw himself out of the way of the enemy spell caster, the magic bolt meant for his head rocketing past him to detonate against a pile of rubble.  Throwing back a hurried bolt, he turned his head to take stock of the group of ponies beside him.  From what he could tell . . . it didn’t look good.   A small group of about 9 ponies were all that was left of his battle group that once numbered over 40.  While he had lost contact with the others earlier during the fight, he held no illusions that they would be faring much better.
If he concentrated, Golden Shield could hear the sounds of battle echoing across the city, as they had been doing for more than a week now.  The Discordian forces had been pushing through on all fronts, but even with their success the Stalliongrad forces were making them bleed for every inch.   Discord . . . Golden Shield ground his teeth as he thought of the monster that had shattered the peace of Equestria.  It was a few days ago that the creature’s voice had rung out all over Equestria declaring himself the new king and demanding obedience.
Needless to say, this had caused no end of problems amongst the citizenry.  But despite the fears and questions of the people, there was one thing that was abundantly clear: The princesses had failed.  Whatever this thing was, it had the power to broadcast its voice across Equestria and its arrogant boasts put it in direct opposition to the princesses.  As days passed one after another and no news came, it became clearer and clearer that no rescue was coming.
In an attempt to calm the people down, the mayor had called an open meeting for civic leaders and any concerned citizens to attend to discuss the current crisis . . .
“This creature is an abomination and the princesses will stop it!”  Others took up the stallion’s argument while on the other side of the hall housing the meeting other ponies were of a very different opinion.
“They haven’t stopped it yet and it’s been days.  There hasn’t even been any news as to their whereabouts.  I say we do what this thing says.  If it can stop the princesses what chance do we have?!”
“Traitor!”
“Fool!”
“Heretic!”
The insults kept coming as the disputes between civic leaders spilt out onto the streets.  Citizens once split on the issue became fiercely divided, even striking out against the ponies they had called neighbors only days ago.  Nopony really knew who struck first, but the gathering of citizens devolved into a riot as the two sides tried to rip each other apart.  What military forces stationed in Stalliongrad tried to restore order, but quickly found themselves drawn inexorably into the conflict as members of the guard entered the fray on the one side or another.
While the fighting eventually petered out as the two sides were dispersed by what few guards were left outside of the conflict or retreated to tend to their wounded, it had left a huge number of bodies in its wake.  The riot had consisted of well over 1,000 citizens if not more and the 100 or so guardsponies who had been sent in to restore order.  When the smoke cleared and the rioters gone, over 200 civilians lay dead or too wounded to move with 25 dead guards adding to the mix.  It had been a bloodbath and while many hoped it would be the end of the fighting, it proved to be only the opening salvo.
They struck at night and when they did they were . . . different.  Their eyes, their coats, it had all been grayed out and their expressions had been contorted with conflicting emotions of rage, hate, pain, and fear.  Fires were set that began to consume large sections of the city, as Discord supporters began laying siege to guard barracks, police stations, and dragging prominent opposition to Discord into the streets.   There had been no mercy, no warnings, and no calls for surrender.  The fighting had been extremely brutal and it had taken far too much time to establish any defensive points.  By the time the last of the Loyalist guard, militia, and volunteers had set up their defenses, more than a quarter of the city had been lost to the Discordian troops.
But while the city was falling, there was one blessing: the walls.  The massive walls surrounding the city not only prevented more of Discord’s troops from getting through into the city to reinforce his supporters, but they also provided fortified redoubts against the troops already in the city.  The first of Discord’s reinforcements had arrived after a few days of fighting, but the forces assigned to the wall were able to drive them back.  So far there had been four massive attempts made by the enemy to seize or batter down the walls, but each one had been driven back with heavy casualties.  If only the city fighting was going so well . . .

----

The situation was looking grim.  A gathering of the cities remaining civic and military leaders gathered around a three-dimensional model of the city made earlier by their unicorns.  Red figures converged in a great mass outside the walls with similarly colored figures within the city representing the forces that had declared for Discord.  Green figures arrayed on the wall and scattered haphazardly throughout the city represented the fighting forces of Stalliongrad that remained loyal to the princesses.  It presented a grim picture indeed.
While numerically their forces inside the city outnumbered Discord’s, his forces seemed to fight with a ferocity bordering on insanity.  They would push and push with little to no regard for their own safety.  Worse, whatever had been done to them seemed to have enhanced and altered their abilities.  Unicorns cast spells whose effects were nigh-impossible to predict the outcome of and other ponies would have strength or speed that fluctuated rapidly at random intervals.  The chaotic element added to the fighting had cost the Stalliongrad forces time and ponies.
“We can’t hold much longer at this rate,” remarked one of the ponies, wincing slightly as he saw another group of green figures swarmed and overwhelmed on the model before him.  
“We have to,” said the mayor.  “Runners we sent out to other cities haven’t reported back in and we can’t just surrender the city.”
“And why not?!  The princesses be damned, ponies are dying out there.  Our friends, our neighbors, our families.  If we keep fighting than the only thing we’ll have to show for it is more corpses to bury after Discord’s forces win.”
“We still have the wall.  And Discord’s troops have yet to breach it from either side.  We’ve lasted this long, we’ve proven that we can hold out against him.  Eventually the cost of seizing the city will be far worse than leaving us be.”
“Don’t be so naïve!  Do you honestly think Discord cares about the lives of his troops?  He’s been content to let his troops hurl themselves against the walls for this long, I’m sure he’ll be content to let as many troops do the same for as long as it takes.”
A messenger dashed into the room, interrupting the arguing stallions.   
“Sirs!” he said, panting heavily from exertion.  “It’s . . . Discord.”  Eyes widening, the small group of ponies rushed out of the room and onto a balcony which gave them a clear line of sight to the walls.  What they saw chilled the blood in their veins.  The messenger had not been wrong.  Hovering sedately above the walls was the very creature which had sent Stalliongrad hurtling into brutal in-fighting.  The expression on his face was not one of anger, hatred, or even apathy.  It was one of utter, complete boredom.  
“You know,” he began, his voice carrying to every corner of the city.  “When this whole battle started I thought to myself: “Excellent!  A microcosm of chaos for me to watch and enjoy.”  But now?”  He shrugged.
“The whole thing has lost its appeal.  I mean war can be chaos, but really what with this whole status quo nonsense it’s gotten quite boring.  So . . . I’m pulling the plug on this whole resistance thing in . . .” He looked at a clock which had sprung into existence on his chest.
“Now.”  With a snap of his claws, there was a horrible wrenching noise that filled the air and set the ponies’ teeth on edge.   The great walls of Stalliongrad suddenly began to convulse, the smooth stone seeming to expand and deflate.  Even the ground was altered as the very foundations of the wall and the earth around it became little more than sand, and sucking mud.  With one last, great resounding *crack* the walls of Stalliongrad collapsed in on themselves.  Seeing the great walls that had protected them for so long, a great cry of despair rose up from the city, matched only by the death cries of the ponies that had been manning the walls.
Discord looked down on the city as his troops swarmed over the wreckage of the walls with a single-minded determination, sweeping into the city and cracking down on those ponies that had been defending Stalliongrad.  As what had been a somewhat stable, though ultimately doomed, line of defense collapsed into a hundred different pockets of frenetic violence he reclined on a divan and grabbed a clawfull of popcorn from the tub beside him.
“Finally,” he murmured.  “I thought I was going to go crazy waiting for them to do something interesting.”
	
	
> Chapter 5 Interlude
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


A Treatise on the Political Systems of the Confederacy


Written by Betz the Elder


The Confederacy

While my readers will know something of the Confederacy already, it is important to go over just what it was and how it formed before any real discussion of its political system could begin.  The Confederacy is estimated to have formed in late 200 B.M. (Before Magnus).  Humanity had undergone a terrible cataclysm perpetrated by the race we now know of as the Equestrians.  Their near genocide thinned mankind’s ranks to the point where twelve tribes became a mere four.
Following their invasion, mankind fled north to escape the wrath of these creatures and eventually discovered the continent we now inhabit.  They were tired, beaten, and low on supplies and it was in this state that the leaders of the four remaining tribes came together to discuss the future of their people.  It is important to note that many have criticized the laws and ties that bound the four tribes together into the Confederacy as too weak.  However these do not realize that such a binding was both politically and intellectually impossible at the time.
Humanity had existed until this point as a tribal society loosely bound and barely associated with one another.  The Confederacy, while a weak system in contrast to the current imperial system in use today, was a union constructed of necessity and even then was bitterly opposed.  The tribes were loath to give up any sense of their tribe’s identity or freedom and bitterly opposed anything in that vein.  
More to the point, the idea of permanent union and anything more than aiding one another when in need was not something that had ever been raised before and thus was not an ingrained concept in the minds of the people.  It was not until the Pretender Wars, their fallout, and the arrival of Magnus that the people were ready to even consider adopting such a new system as the current one.
At any rate, the Confederacy had a strictly defined hierarchy originally laid out by King Volksson of the then Shadow Tribe and heavily edited and refined by discussions and compromise between the other three tribal chiefs present at the clansmeet which gave birth to the Confederacy.  In descending order, it is the King, the Council of Four, the Tribal Chieftains, and any local governments the chieftains dained to establish.  As you can imagine, this led to each tribe having any number of functionaries and lesser positions which could and did heavily differ from another.
For example, the Shadow Tribe was well known to have a position known as the Listener which, while originally created to help keep the chief informed of events outside of Shadow lands, would evolve over time into a spymaster in all but name.
The position of “King” was far less powerful than a modern audience might think as while the title projects the image of a powerful figure making important decisions, the King of the Confederacy acted more as an administrator.  He served to keep the tribes working together, acted as tiebreaker in the event of a hung council, and generally only exerted direct control over the King’s Lands which occupied a central point in the Confederacy given over to the King and his functionaries.  
The position of king was also an elected one as when the sitting king died or could no longer fulfill his duties, the Council of Four would elect one of their own to ascend to the position of king.  While possible to elect a figure other than a sitting councilor, it was extremely unlikely and only occurred an estimated 2 times during the Confederacy’s existence.
The Council of Four, while officially under the King, exerted far more power on a day-to-day basis.  The council consisted of elected councilors from each of the four tribes.  When one of their number was elected to sit on the throne, a new councilor was elected from that former councilor’s tribe.  The ascended councilor had no official power or privilege to pick the next councilor, but many times, a king’s influence was leveraged in favor of a particular candidate.  However to prevent the king stacking the council in his favor, the council had the ability to examine and question the candidate and approve or block his election to the council.
The council’s duties consisted of ensuring that each tribe did their duties to the Confederacy.  These included a tithe of men and wealth to fund and man the Confederacy’s armies which were controlled by the King and the Council jointly.  The council also served as a court of law and would hear and adjudicate the many inter-tribal disputes that would arise to prevent the wars of the past.  In this the council would prove to be remarkably successful with war between tribes occurring only rarely and almost never evolving into more than skirmishes with notable exceptions including the Battle of Red River, the Wars of Bloodied Stone, and the Pretender Wars.
The Council and the King’s army were used numerous times to try and prevent these kinds of wars as well as enforce the will of the Confederacy.  The idea of the Confederacy’s survival being more important than individuals was exemplified by King Volksson who said: “For every life lost I feel the deepest sorrow, but if there are those who would challenge the unity that protects our future then I will go forth and strike them down without compunction.”
The Tribal Chiefs were the leaders of the individual tribes which made up the Confederacy and how they were picked or chosen to lead was a decision left in the hands of the tribe.  The Shadow Tribe favored bloodlines and the mantle of leadership passed from father to son and occasionally from father to daughter should no sons be able to lead.  In contrast the Eagle Tribe believed that only the strongest should rule and the leader was chosen through a grand melee.  Only the one who emerged victorious from this ferocious brawl was fit to lead.
The chiefs had complete power over the inner workings of their own tribes and as long as they did not try to extend this power beyond their tribes, neither the council nor the king would challenge them.  However many tribal chiefs were said to have chafed under the rule of the Confederacy and these sentiments were many times the cause of the internal struggles faced by the Confederacy.

Land Distribution

The Confederacy consisted of the four surviving tribes of the Cataclysm and the minor tribes which were eventually just folded into the four main tribes.  While land disputes would persist throughout the history of the Confederacy, land ownership eventually stabilized into four main regions belonging to each tribe subdivided into smaller lands controlled by various clans.  More information provided in The Early Clans: Precursors to the Great Houses.
The Shadow Tribe controlled the Eastern coasts and much of the Eastern mainland.  The Thunder Tribe controlled similar regions to the west.  The Eagle and Lightning Tribes controlled the central regions of the continent.  The one exception to these regions was the King’s Lands which were partitioned out of land from each tribe.  
These lands occupied the central point between the original lands of the tribes when they landed on the continent.  After many years of expansion the original King’s Lands would be returned to the tribes and a new site would be selected in the centermost point of the continent.  These lands would eventually become the current Imperial capital of Megbízás.
For all its problems and struggles the Confederacy accomplished its long term goal: allowing humanity the time and security it needed to reestablish its society after the struggles of the Cataclysm and build up a relatively secure State.  However this existence would be challenged repeatedly over the years with some of the more immediate challenges being the wildlife of this new land.  More information in the chapter: Northern Wildlife: Challenges to the early Confederacy.
	
> Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	They stood braced against the biting wind, the darkness of night pressing down almost oppressively on the two guards.  Their guttering torches provided little relief and served to only provide a small circle of illumination for the guards and their charges.  One of the guards turned to his partner.
“Bjorn.  Hey, Bjorn.”  Bjorn studiously ignored him, unwilling to speak any more than he had to in this cold.    Frowning slightly, the first guard reached over and shook him slightly.  
“Bjorn. C’mon Bjorn answer me.”  His partner sighed heavily, turning towards his partner.
“What is it Eric?  What do you have to say that is so important?”  Eric cocked his head slightly in confusion before asking his original question.
“Why exactly are we guarding this place?” Bjorn’s palm met his face with an audible slap.  
“That’s your question?  Seriously?”
“What?  I mean we should have some idea of why we’re doing this right?”  
“You know we’re guards right? We’re guarding the mine against thieves and raiders.”
“Well yeah, but after the Confederacy why should we have to you know?  Aren’t we all unified now?”  
“Yes.  But that doesn’t mean we just stop doing our job.  Now shut up and get back to watching.  We only have another hour or two before our shift here ends.  Then we can go back to our nice, warm beds.”  
With a shrug, Eric turned back to face the dark mountain pass just in time to receive an arrow in his throat.  Bright, crimson blood flowed from his wound and began to hiss and steam as it hit the frigid air. Bjorn turned to face their assailants and only barely managed to turn away the sword of an assailant.  
Backing away quickly, Bjorn did his best to keep his guard up but found his reactions dulled by the cold and the many hours of inaction his shift had necessitated.  His blade felt heavy in his hand as his opponent struck hard and without mercy, the sharp tattoo of metal on metal beating almost non-stop.  Though he made a good account of himself, Bjorn could feel his focus slipping even as his opponent forced him back further and further.  
With little hope left, Bjorn gambled everything on a wild offensive that barely fazed the armored swordsman facing him.  The swordsman slapped Bjorn’s blade aside with an almost contemptuous ease before slamming the hilt of his sword into Bjorn’s nose. Pain exploded through him as Bjorn lost his footing and fell to the hard ground beneath him.  Before he could react, the strange swordsman dealt the final blow and drove his sword through the back of Bjorn’s neck. 
Tarik looked at the corpse of the Lightning guard before him.  He had been no challenge, and for that Tarik felt disappointment.  Turning back towards the pass, he could see the rest of his forces approaching.  Easily two dozen warriors marched up to Tarik under the Eagle banner and snapped to attention.  
“Go inside and capture any workers inside,” ordered Tarik.  “Kill none of them; they are more valuable as laborers than corpses.”  With a crisp salute, the soldiers split into four groups and entered the faintly lit mine, their mission clear.  Barely an hour had passed before the Eagle banner flew proudly over the newly-claimed mine.  Meanwhile one terrified soul fled from the mine, traveling through the darkness as fast as his feet could carry him towards the King’s Lands.  
Volksson sat on an elevated, oaken chair, the Council of Four sitting around the table before him.  He could feel acutely the weight of the iron crown he bore, but unlike when it first was given to him he was finally growing used to it.  Rather than providing a distraction and encumbrance, it was beginning to feel more like a natural part of him and the position he occupied. He allowed himself a small smile at that.  
“I suppose enough repetition can make one used to almost anything,” he thought to himself. 
It had taken more than four years before he and the other members of the Council had finally settled on a comfortable, effective routine in their new duties.  Every morning he would meet with the members of the Council and learn about the daily affairs of the Confederacy and of the tribes that made it up.  
Following that would be some personal time to reflect on the information he had just received before he opened his hall to the public, allowing any and all to present their petitions to him and the Council directly.  These petitions were many during the first two years of their new lives in this new land.  Despite the work and careful negotiations that he and his fellow Chiefs had engaged in to create the Confederacy, their overall resources and usable land was still fairly limited and numerous disputes over these resources were brought before Volksson to decide as there were too many for their individual chiefs to handle while still fulfilling their own daily obligations.
These petitions had finally begun to reduce somewhat as the living conditions and territory and resource allotments began to stabilize somewhere around their fourth year living here.  It was by no means comfortable as of yet, but at least the fear of imminent extinction had been put off and that was means for celebration if nothing else.  Every small victory was still a victory after all, a step in the right direction that would one day see the human race restored to its old status and perhaps raised even higher than that. 
Following these petitions Volksson would adjourn for a quiet dinner and raise a prayer to the gods and ancestors for the continued success of humanity.  He would then continue any business that had not yet been concluded before retiring to bed, and sleeping for the few hours available before the next Council meeting.  
“  . . . Thanks to the efforts of the Thunder and Shadow Tribes, we have been able to clear another ten acres of arable land in the east and west.  Surveyors and farmers have of course already been dispatched to these areas to begin preparations for the next planting season.”
“Thank you Councilor,” said Volksson.  “Gentlemen, is there anything else to discuss or shall we adjourn for the day?”
“There is one thing my king.”  Volksson turned his attention to the man opposite him.  
“Gormensson.  What have you to bring before this Council?”  Gormensson stood and held out a hand, which an aide promptly filled with a number of sealed scrolls.  Gormensson unfurled the scrolls one by one on the table between the councilors.  The first was a the most recent map of the Confederacy’s lands.  There had been a little expansion in terms of total territory claimed by each tribe, however the truth was these were mostly either watchtowers being built or farmland being reclaimed.  The rest of the scrolls looked to be production tallies of metals, food, trade good, etc.  
“We have had a fair increase across the board in terms of production, but there remains in issue that has yet to be dealt with.”
“And that is what exactly?”  Gormensson looked uncomfortable for a moment.  
“We have recorded a marked decrease in metal production being reported over the past week.  Of course, we sent a surveyor to see just what was going on.  He never returned.” 
Volksson frowned at that.  Losing contact briefly was one thing, but to have someone never report back for what was specifically a short-term assignment was more . . . troubling.
“Have you any idea as to his fate?”  At this Gormensson signaled his aide, who quickly nodded and dashed out through the main doors.
“Yes and no, my king.  While we do not know the exact fate of our surveyor, we can surmise what happened based on the report of a single escapee from the mine.”  There was concerned muttering all around the table now.
“An . . . escapee Gormensson?” asked Barca.  “That is an interesting choice of words.”  
“I more than understand Barca, but perhaps it would be better for us all to hear this man’s testimony ourselves.”  As he said this, the Lightning aide returned with a man in tow. The man was dressed in the rough clothing of laborers and was clearly shaken from his experiences as his eyes were constantly darting from place to place, as if seeking out some hidden assassin.  As he approached, he quickly threw himself into a bow before the king.
“Hail, my king!”  
“Rise,” said Volksson gently.  “Tell us what has befallen you and your fellows.” 
“My lord it happened about one week ago.  My shift in the mines had just ended and I had stepped outside to relieve myself before grabbing some rest.  However, as I returned to the mines, I heard the sound a bowstring and the clash of iron on iron.  What I saw were at least two dozen assailants wrapped in darkened clothes and armor slay the two guards on duty before hoisting an Eagle banner over the mine.  Following this I . .  .”
“LIES!” roared Arnulf, slamming his fist into the oaken table with a resounding crash.  “My warriors are all loyal to their tribe and to the Confederacy.  They would never assault their fellow man, especially in such an underhanded and dishonorable manner.”  
Volksson looked carefully at both the laborer and Arnulf before continuing.  
“What is your name?”  The laborer quickly averted his eyes before answering.
“I am known as Maloghurst, my king.”  Volksson smiled slightly at this.
“A fine name.  Tell me Maloghurst, do you speak the truth about the Eagle assailants?”  
“I do lord.”
“He is a liar placed by Gormensson to slander my tribe,” said Arnulf through clenched teeth.  “I demand that he face justice for his base accusations!” 
“Do you swear this is the truth by the Gods and ancestors?” asked Volksson, ignoring Arnulf’s continued outbursts.  
“I swear upon the Gods, and our blessed ancestors.”  The room fell silent as he invoked two of the most sacred ideas of mankind.  Volksson took the opportunity to do some quick thinking. 
There was no way that he would lie and falsify such an oath.  To be known as an oath-breaker of this magnitude would almost certainly cause him to be put to death or banished from society.  Therefore, he could not be a simple plant.  If that was true, than either Arnulf or a fragment of the Eagle tribe was violating the laws of the Confederacy.  Sparing a brief glance at Arnulf, Volksson could see that he was angry, but could see little else.  Whichever outcome came to be true; it would not be good for humanity.  So the only recourse was the direct approach:  strangle the problem in its crib.
“Maloghurst of Tribe Lightning.  You have proven resourceful and brave in escaping to bring us this information.  I would offer you a place as an aide of sorts to me, as a reward for your actions here today.”  Maloghurst’s eyes lit up at the prospect and he nodded emphatically.
“Very well then.  I name thee Maloghurst, honorary member of the Shadows.”  Maloghurst fell quickly into a low bow.  
“Thank you my lord!”  
“You may rise.”  As he did, Volksson could almost hear the grinding of Arnulf’s teeth in his rage. 
“My king, my calls for justice have been made.  Shall I have the ability to exact justice on this slanderer?”  Volksson simply shook his head no.
“I’m afraid not, my friend.  Maloghurst is of my tribe now.  As a result this is a purely internal tribe matter.  I shall decide how to punish him, if at all.”  Arnulf’s face seemed to grow a few shades more red, but he backed down.  With that one move, Volksson had placed Maloghurst beyond the reach of the Eagle Tribe.
“At any rate,” Barca cut in.  “Whether or not these accusations are true or false, there is still the matter of Lightning’s missing surveyor.  I motion that we send a small task force to the mine in question to ascertain exactly what his fate was.”
“I second the motion,” Gormensson said.  Volksson nodded once.
“The motion carries.  Are there any who would oppose it?” None raised their hands.
“Then it is so ordered.  A small force of Confederate warriors shall be dispatched to the Lightning mine in question to ascertain the circumstances of the surveyor’s disappearance.  This council is adjourned.”  As the councilors left, it was clear that Arnulf was still furious at the outcome of the meeting and from his hurried exit and wild gesticulations to his escorts it was clear that he most likely would be alerting his tribe upon his return.  Volksson sighed and rubbed his temples.  It was clear that another round of problems would soon be forcing their way into his life.  Turning back to his new servant, Volksson wondered what to do with him.  The decision to induct him as an honorary member of his tribe hadn’t exactly been planned.  However it was clear that the coming days would bring serious contention of one type or another, and it would pay to have someone devoted to ensuring that Volksson was always aware of what was going on.
“Maloghurst.”  The former laborer snapped to attention.
“Yes, my king?” 
“I have an assignment for you.  In the coming days, I will need to be sure of everything that is happening throughout every corner of the Confederacy.  To that end, I appoint you Listener of the Shadow Tribe.  You shall be our eyes and ears throughout the tribes and you will let nothing go unheard.  Do you understand?”
“Yes my king.  I am your Listener, and I will not fail you.”

----

Volga approached the mine, his troops arrayed behind him.  The King and Councilors had provided him with a dozen soldiers with which to investigate the disappearance of the Lightning Tribe’s surveyor.  While glad to be of use, Volga was unsure why the Council forces were necessary for this.  Surely this was an internal matter for the Lightning?  Lost in his thoughts, he was surprised when one of his soldiers came up beside him.
“What is it?”
“Sir . . . do you believe the rumors?”  
“That depends, which ones?” 
“You know the ones, sir.  That the Eagles are on the warpath with the Lightning and killed the surveyor.”  Volga shook his head in exasperation.
“No, I don’t.  Have they had their problems in the past?  Of course, which tribe didn’t go to war with each other at least once?  But we are not in those days anymore. The King and Council have brought us together.  I refuse to believe without evidence that any of the tribes would be stupid enough to jeopardize humanity because of their own grudges.  I don’t want you spreading these rumors around the troops, understand?”  
“Yes sir!”

----

Tarik stood outside the taken mine.  They had held the place for about a week, but they had been ordered not to leave their posts.  Apparently they had wanted them to hold the place against attempted recapture by the Lightning forces, but he didn’t see the point.  The only Lightning force they had seen had been a surveyor and his team. 
He stretched his limbs, stiff from the cold and inactivity, and began to walk around the perimeter of the mine.  His men were on-guard and since the mine had been taken, had been reinforced with another two dozen troops.  Large wooden palisades surrounded the inner pathway to the mine, while watchtowers were under construction along the path by a small army of workers.  They were almost ready to throw back a concerted counter-attack.  
“Troops approaching up the path!”  Moving swiftly as adrenaline surged through him, Tarik dashed up to the southern end of the palisade wall.
“How many?” 
“Only about a dozen sir,” one of the guards said.  “They’re wearing Council colors.”  
“Shit!  Get ready to fight.”
As the soldiers milling around the camp began to ready themselves for battle, Tarik moved to the gates to confront the Council troops.  As they reached Tarik and the wooden gates, the Council troops halted and their leader stepped forward.  He wore the symbol of the Council, over well-kept iron armor.  His hair was a dark red, and he was of average height and build.  
“I am Captain Volga of the Confederate Army.  This mine is the property of the Lightning Tribe as decided by Clansmeet.  We demand access to the mine in order to investigate the fate of the Lightning surveyor and worker.
“I’m afraid I cannot allow you access.  This mine is now under control of the Eagle Tribe.  The Lightning Tribe has no authority here.”  
“You cannot be serious.  It was legally under their administration.  This is more than land seizure, this is treason against the King!” 
“I refuse to acknowledge the authority that strips us of our sovereignty. Tell your King that if he wishes to enforce his will on us, then he can come himself.”  
Anger flashed visibly over Volga’s face as he ordered his men to turn back. 
“We will leave for now, but I assure you that we will return to restore proper order.”  Tarik smirked at him.
“Good.  We will be waiting.”