The Hayborian age was a time of swordplay, magic, and savagery. In the region of Currmeria, lived Comac. Comac was from a village who’s residents who were trained to fight practically from birth. He himself was born literally on a battlefield; his mother only stopped fighting long enough to give birth before continuing to fight once more. His father was a warrior and blacksmith, teaching his son the ways of steel and iron.
“Long ago,” his father began. “The goddess, Faust, granted gifts to the equine of the earth. To the pegasai, the ability to control weather. To the unicorns, the gift of magic. And to the earth equine, agriculture. But all share one thing…”
Comac’s father then pulled out a newly forged broadsword. It was as tall as the young Comac; shimmering in the sunlight, with leather wrapped tightly around the hilt, and what appeared to be a open half of an apple engraved in the center.
“But we, the earth ponies are the greatest masters of this craft,” continued his father. “For the metals come from the earth in which we share the greatest bond. Unicorns may use magic on their weapons, but magic can fail. A true weapon, made with true labor, will never fail. You can always trust in it Comac. Remember this, my son.”
The father handed the sword over to his young son, still in awe of it’s beauty. He had a difficult time picking it up, feeling some shame for not being as strong as his mighty father.
“Do not feel sad, my son,” the father comforted him. “With enough time, you will become strong and powerful. I myself didn’t start out this size and with great strength; no equine is.”
Comac knew he would have many opportunities to become a powerful warrior, like his parents before him. If he was lucky enough, he would even get to train his younger sisters. Comac looked like most earth equine of his class. He had dark red fur, bright green eyes, and a dark yellow mane, just like his father. And while his father could be a hard but firm teacher, the two had a strong bond. He had two younger sisters, one of whom was only just starting to talk, and another that had been born mere weeks ago. He knew his family was strong and no force on earth could destroy that.
But then…a darkness came. Without warning, on a cold winters morning, a siege had come to Comac’s village. A horde of armored equine rode in on timberwolves, also armored. They carried a banner, which sported glowing green eyes. The marauders showed no mercy in the lives they took; taking down stallions and mares with ease. The children of the village were being captured by nets and ropes. To Comac’s shock, his own father had been struck down. His mother came to his side, and prepared herself for a fight. Then, one armored equine, clearly the leader, appeared at the front. His height was impressive, and he was clad in pitch black armor with long horns adorned on his helmet. He removed his helmet, to reveal a unicorn with ash grey fur, blood red eyes, and a glowing red curved horn on his forehead. His mane was pitch black and wild like a savage.
Comac’s mother held her sword tighter, preparing to strike when possible. But the mysterious unicorn gave her a look as if he had no intentions of harming her. She slowly lowered her sword and grabbed her son’s hand, letting her guard down. She was unable to anticipate the unicorn’s deceit as he swung his sword, taking her head. Comac felt his mother’s grip became slack, as her headless body collapsed to the snow covered ground. Filled with rage, Comac attempted to strike at the dark stallion who took his family and neighbors from him; but it was all for not. It only took one hit, and he was down.
“He has quite the spirit,” said the dark stallion. “But spirit, without strength, can win you no fight.”
“Shall we place him with the other children, Lord Sombra?” asked one of his subordinates.
“No,” responded Sombra. “I have different plans in mind for this one.”
Comac began to stir, trying to regain his composure, when Lord Sombra picked him up by the neck and looked right into his eyes.
“I’m sure you will never forget me, boy,” said Lord Sombra. “And I’m sure you will try to come after me in some foolhardy attempt at revenge. I won’t say don’t attempt such an act. In fact, I relish in the thought of that day coming. But you will never defeat me in your current state. Remember that the world is cruel, and your dear Faust will not be there to help you up when you fall. If you are going to survive, you must also be cruel.”
Lord Sombra then flung young colt into a separate cage from the rest of the other children, who were going in a different direction. The young colt cried out to his younger sisters, promising that he would find them one day. He was struck once more and passed out for a second time.
Days after the siege of his village, Comac was taken from his home in Currmmeria, to the land of Zebmora to be sold into slavery to a plantation owner. His new owner was a blue unicorn, with a black mane and green eyes. He was wearing extravagant robes, clearly having a high position.
“You can’t be serious,” said the plantation owner. “You expect me to pay 1000 bits for this scrawny thing?”
“He may look small, but he comes from great stock,” said the slave trader. “His family were all forgers of steel. He will grow into a fine stallion.”
“Till then, he isn’t good for much,” retorted the plantation owner. “I’ll give you 500 bits for him.”
“Are you trying to insult me,” exclaimed the trader.
“I doubt you’ll find anyone else willing to pay higher for him,” added the plantation owner.
“Make it 600 bits,” said the trader.
The plantation owner took another look at the red colt. He saw a fire in his eyes. Eyes that said, I will not be easily tamed.
“Very well,” he said. “600 for him.”
The trader rode off, as Comac was left with the plantation owner. Comac continued to look angrily at his new “master.”
“It is not wise to give such a look to your new master,” he exclaimed.
“I am Comac,” he finally spoke. “I have no master.”
“Well, aren’t you feisty one,” chuckled the master, who then hit Comac with a bit of magic.
“But that won’t keep you alive around here,” he shouted to him. “You will do everything I say, when I say it. I am Stratos, but you will call me Master! I’m a powerful unicorn, and you are nothing but a mere equine of the mud. Do as I say, and you will do just fine. Challenge me, and you’ll wish you’d died with your village. Do you understand me?”
Solid Oak awaited Comac to respond with a “Yes, Master Stratos.” But nothing came from his mouth. Angered at first, Stratos decided to put the boy to work right away.
“Eventually, you’ll learn to call me Master,” he said. “For now, follow me to the fields.”
Stratos led Comac to his farming fields, of various types of vegetation.
“What business does a unicorn have in owning a farm?” Comac asked his new master. “Everyone knows that only earth equine can grow food.”
Stratos turned around and physically smacked Comack.
“You never speak without permission, boy,” he exclaimed. “I do not need to be an earth equine to own land! That’s why I have slaves!”
“I am not boy,” Comac spoke out of turn again. “I am Comac.”
“I will not harm you again this time,” said Stratos. “I need my new property in decent shape for his first day of work. But, know this, I will strike you again and again till you learn your place…boy.”
Stratos then took Comac to one of his assistants, a male pegasus, who attached a yoke around the young colt’s neck.
“It barely fits him, boss,” said the assistant.
“He will grow into it,” said Stratos. “In time. Take him to the main field.”
“You sure he’s in shape enough for that?” asked the assistant.
“It doesn’t matter to me,” said Stratos. “I want to show him who is in charge.”
The pegasus took Comac by the rope attached to his yoke, and lead him to the main field. It was the biggest in all the plantation, and there were no areas for shading.
“You must have rubbed Stratos the wrong way to have him already working you in the main field,” said the pegasus. “You better learn to cooperate here, if you’re going to survive.”
Comac said nothing.
“You can call me Aero,” he continued. “You can probably guess that I’m not a slave. I work for Stratos, I receive payment. What do they call you?”
“I am Comac,” he finally said. “I am slave to nobody.”
“You can say that all you like, young one,” said Aero. “But that doesn’t make it any more true. Stratos won’t put up with your insubordination long. He will make an example of you to the others. He’ll break your spirit, sooner or later.”
Comac had no response to Aero’s warning. His yoke was attached by the ropes to a large metal plow. Another worker on the plantation ordered him to start moving…but he wouldn’t move an inch. He was ordered a second time, but still no movement. Finally, he was struck with a whip. While it caused him to flinch some, Comac still refused to move from his spot. When the worker struck again, Comac attempted to grab the whip from the stallion’s hand and pull him to the ground. Despite his efforts, Comac was pushed to the ground and held down by two farmhands. Stratos heard the camotion and walked to the main field.
“What in Faust’s name is going on here!?” yelled Stratos.
“This little wretch tried to take the whip from my hand,” yelled the worker.
“It’s time to show you what we do to earth equine like you,” grinned Stratos.
Comac was carried into farmhouse, where a blacksmith heated up some sort of branding device. He was then chained to a wooden table that was secured to the floor; he was completely stuck.
“This is normally applied somewhere on the upper torso or leg,” said Stratos. “But I want you to remember you station in life. Every time you see yourself in a reflective device, you will always see this mark.”
Stratos gave the signal to his blacksmith, and he moved over to Comack with a heated rod with some sort of symbol on it. Comac struggled with all his might, but it was to no avail. All he could remember was feeling hot metal applied to his face. He’d never screamed so loudly in his life. When it was over, he was released from the table and he fell to the floor, clutching his right eye.
“Have a look at what’s been done to you, boy,” said Stratos.
Comac stumbled to a nearby mirror and saw what had been done. Over his right eye was a burn in the shape of a lower case e.
“This is to symbolize your place in the world,” said Stratos. “You are an earth equine. You are the lowest of the low; you‘re barely higher than the dirt itself. You are only deserving of a lowercased letter. Everyone in the land who sees this on your face, will know what you are. You aren’t in any real shape to work today. So consider yourself lucky, boy. I will permit you to rest for one night. After that, you will work for as many hours as I say, till your very last breath.”
That evening, Comac was lying on some straw in a tiny room; unable to sleep from lack of food. Not helping was that he was unable to remove his yoke, making it nearly impossible to find a comfortable position. While he wasn’t in as much pain as before, his eye was still stinging. He heard a knock on his door, and put through a small slot, was a red apple.
“Don’t tell anyone where you go this,” said Aero. “No point in starving you when you’re that scrawny.”
Comac grabbed the apple and began devouring it frantically.
“I know you’re in a bad situation,” said Aero. “Personally, I think equine owning other equine is cruel. But this world is cruel, and I need to do what I can to survive. If that means working for a slave owner, so be it. I can tell you have plans for your future; I see it in your eyes. Those plans won’t happen if you keep causing trouble like you did. And this was only your first day. Clearly Stratos can tell you’re more spirited than most, probably why he decided to burn you so early. If you play your cards right, maybe one day you can get out of this place and do whatever you need to do. Anyway, you better rest up, Faust only knows what he’s got planned for you.”
Aero closed the slot on Comac’s cell door and flew off. After finishing his apple, Comac thought once more about the day his village was attacked. He remembered what Lord Sombra had said to him.
“Remember that the world is cruel, and your dear Faust will not be there to help you up when you fall. If you are going to survive, you must also be cruel."
Comac wasn’t going to let his spirits be broken. He would do what this Stratos told him to do, but he would never call him master. He would gain his freedom and get his revenge. And no branding mark was going to tell him what he could and could not do.
