Son of Winterby DiscoDashChaptersFrost Part OneFrost Part Two: ObekantFrost EndFrost Part OneLight seeps in from the clutter of trees and leaves as you walk along the beaten path. The odd sounds of the creatures of the massive jungle surround you; some stalking you, some fleeing from you. The dark and humid forest, while looming over the people outside its boundaries, is what you consider home. You find the only reason you’re walking to town now is because you’ve been called out from your house by your only neighbor, a strange zebra named Zecora. She had asked you to head to town to help with something. You faintly recall it being about the teacher wanting some help on history. Of course you tried to say no, about how you dislike going to town... but that woman, that witch... She... well, she scares you. You have no idea what she’s able to do or with what freaky voodoo crap she might curse you. With a sigh, you take a long drag on your pipe to calm your nerves as you walk along the path to town, each step making the piccolo on your neck bounce along with your knapsack as you think of what you’re going to say to the town's folk. You let your mind wander for a while before settling on answering the question of who it was that leaked your existence. Zecora knows your disdain for encountering people and only four others know you. It’s not really a hard task matching the one who snitched on you and how you’re going to deal with them. With a scowl, you reach the edge of jungle. If anyone saw you now, they’d probably run or gawk at you, yelling or whispering something like... “Sweet Celestia! Something just walked out of the Everfree Forest!” yelled what sounded like a panicked stallion. Your scowl deepens as you retort at the man. “It’s a jungle, you ignorant twat!” You stand there with your two hooves planted firmly on the ground, holding your knapsack in your left and holding your pipe in your right, watching the pony run towards the town. That pony acted like he’s never seen a satyr. Watching him, you notice that he seems to run towards the direction of the town. You’d like to get your job done and over with as soon as possible so you can return home, so after adjusting your belt, you follow the tracks the stallion left to the town. It’s not long before you’re almost in the town square. You barely set a hoof in the borders of the town before that pony from before starts a small panic. Wanting to keep moving, you try to ignore them, but it doesn’t look like the thick crowd is going to allow you to get going anywhere anytime soon. A small panic and a mob start to form around you. Seeing only one easy way to stop this commotion, you let out a sigh. Dropping your knapsack, you smother the ember in your pipe and put it in the pouch you carry around your waist. The crowd is watching you intently, trying to find out your motives. Calmly, you raise your piccolo to your lips and blow softly. The ponies calm down and stare at you intently. Once you get in a good rhythm, you close your eyes and start to move. You carry yourself as if you were a leaf blowing and dancing in the wind. With closed eyes, you could only imagine the silent crowd watch with baited breath as you dance away. Whenever you play your piccolo, you enter your own world; a world comprised of only you and the music. With a push of a single leg, you hop from your left leg to your right and use the momentum to spin around. With the end of the spin, you feel that you've done more than enough to please the crowd. You cease playing your piccolo and open your eyes. The stern look on your face still remains, along with the same dull expression and your, voice full of scorn when you speak. “Was that enough to calm you morons down?” They’re all silent, looking at you for answers. One familiar looking pony breaks through the dense crowd and greets you. ”Well howdy, Anon! Ah didn’t expect you to get here so fast!” Your left eye twitches a bit and you crouch down. “Applebloom. Didn’t I ask you—no, make you promise—to tell no one of my existence?” She looks down and kicks at the ground, knocking a bit of dirt loose. ”Yes...” “Now, would you mind telling me how did that teacher came to learn of me?” you ask, glaring daggers at her. She glances up at you, still kicking the ground. ”She asked the class to bring in a pony to tell the story of Hearth’s Warming Eve…” she said, her voice sounding like she’s on the verge of tears. “And I popped into your mind?” you reply, ignoring her tears. She nods. “I spoke up without thinking...” You glare at her and she shrinks back. “I thought of you when you were telling me, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle those old stories... You told them with large smile on your face.” You glare at her. “That’s not going to work, kid.” You hear her mumble something under her breath before she speaks up. “I’ll tell Zecora you wouldn’t do it!” You groan at the mention of Zecora. You really don’t like having to talk with her.. “No, please don’t. I’ll do it.” She smirks. “But... There’s a glaring problem in your plan.” She looks up at you as you grab your knapsack. “I’ve told you this once before. I’m not a pony. I’m a satyr.” She smiles and jumps around you. “Now we have a teacher to find, don’t we?” She looks up to you and smiles before nodding. “Yeah!” You pick her up and position her on your head. “Now do me a favor and point the way.” For the time being, you're going to have to act your best and put on a smile... no matter how uncomfortable you are. So with a false smile and a seemingly gleeful jump up, you gather your things and start on your way with Applebloom leading the way. The walk to the schoolhouse is short and forgettable; the expected gawking and whispering was far from mind. Standing in front of the schoolhouse, Applebloom jumps down and tells you to wait there. She runs inside and you lean against the side of the building, thinking about rekindling your pipe. That idea flees from you when two small fillies walk towards you. One has a small tiara on. You immediately peg her as an over-privileged brat. Her friend looks like someone who just follows the popular one, copying his or her personality. They stop in front of you and the pink one starts to talk. “What are YOU supposed to be? Nightmare Night was months ago!” You don’t like her already, so you decide to keep it short. “Says the one with a plastic tiara. What’re you, the princess of make-believe?” Oh, she’s pissed. She stamps her hoof into the ground and yells at you. “PLASTIC?! I’ll have you know this was hoof-made in Canterlot with real diamonds!” “I bet that’s what your daddy said so you’d shut up.” She pouts and her friend takes her place. You trace her hoof to your piccolo, causing your eye to twitch. You keep your cool and shrug it off with a reply. “By all rights, it costs more than Canterlot Castle. But I’ll let you believe what you want.” They’re about to muster up a reply when an excited Applebloom storms outside, calling for you. “Anon! Ms. Cheerilee called you—” She stops right in her tracks when she sees the brats. Her eyes glance at you when she asks, “Were they bothering you, Anon?” You shake your head. “Not really, no. So, as you were saying?” “You can go in now.” she replies, her voice almost monotone, still glaring at the two brats. Shrugging, you reply, “Alright then.” Pushing off the side of the building, you turn to the door, shooting one last glare at the two of the fillies as they walk past you. Trudging yourself in through the doorway, you get greeted by widespread murmuring. Glancing down at Applebloom, you whisper to her, “You remembered to tell them I wasn’t exactly a pony... right?” She hits her head lightly with her left hoof before exclaiming, “Ah knew Ah forgot something!” You groan and smack your face with your hand. “Let’s get this over with...” You walk up to who you assume to be the teacher and give a mocking bow. “I assume you’re the teacher of the class?” you ask. ”Err, I.. I am...” the teacher replies. You raise up and examine her. Upon looking at her, you see that she's nothing special: a mare of cerise colour and a two-toned mane comprised of two shades of pink. You can see she feels a tad uneasy as she shuffles back a bit, unsure of you. Sighing, you hold up your right hand. “I mean no harm, Ms...?” She stops moving back and answers your question timidly. “Cheerilee...” “Ms. Cheerilee. I was contacted by a... neighbour... that told me you were looking for a storyteller. Am I wrong?” She shakes her head. “No. It’s just that...” You cut her off. “You weren’t expecting someone like me? I get that a lot. If you want, I can leave.” She looks at you and then to the ground, as if she was disappointed at herself. “No, please. Stay.” she says, sounding a bit disheartened. You smile before responding. “Now, when am I to start?” “After you introduce yourself.” she says, waving over the class with her left hoof. A scowl forms across your face at the mention of a name. You should have thought that a name would have come up. You walk over to the nearby desk and place your knapsack on it. Opening it, you rummage through it for the proper volume of the journals. Finding it, you return to the front of the class. “As Ms. Cheerilee said, introductions are required. So, I’ll get this out of the way. I have no name. My mother didn’t name me, she didn’t live long enough to be able to, nor did I have any friends to do so.” The class starts to look around when you pause for a second to look for the next words. They quiet down when you continue to speak. “For the sake of politeness, you may refer to me as either Anonymous or Story Teller. Either or will work.” You grab a nearby stool and place in in the front. “Now, before I start, I have a few rules. They are: No talking while I tell the story, no note passing while I tell the story, and all questions you have will be held at the end of the chapter. Any questions?” One colt raises his hoof nod at him. “What are you?” he asks bluntly. You sigh before replying. “A satyr. Half human, half pony. I’m living proof of the events I’m about to tell. Anything else?” The colt shakes his head and you see another hoof raised. It’s one of the brats from earlier. “Nothing? Then I’ll start.” You sit down on the stool and open the book. The brat with the tiara shouts as you ignore her. “Hey! Don’t ignore me!” You look up from your book and glare at her. “Remember my rules. If you don’t, I’ll ask the teacher to boot you from the class.” She puts her hoof down and pouts. Your gaze returns to the book and you start telling the tale.“This is the story of Obekant. The Son of Winter.” Frost Part Two: ObekantThe shrill singing of the cold winds mistress bellowed through out the frost covered valley. The bitter wind forces flakes of snow to skip across the ground. Barely noticeable is a man sitting on the cold ground, his back up against the trunk of a naked tree, raggedly breathing in the cold air of the night His eyes are slightly glazed over as he seemingly rests peacefully on the icy path. The air burns as he slowly exhales. The tips of his fingers are numb from the cold. It's cold, so cold. The dark sky seemingly weeping, its tears have frozen over into droplets of snow and cover the land and parts of his body. The feel of the cold air’s hands slowly climbing up his body as he gazes towards the sky. What did I do to the gods to earn this as a reward? he thinks to himself. The frosty airs hands now embrace his neck, their cold burn lulling him to sleep. His wish to deny the air its dream of giving him eternal rest slowly escapes him, along with his strength. As his eyelids slowly fall, a thought crosses his mind, causing him to chuckle. Loki has tricked another one, it seems. His eyes clench shut as an unknown weight steps on his belly, spending the last of his strength. The man started to stir, the feel of a radiant warmth from nearby; the heat lessening the cold airs grip on his body, letting warmth spread through him once more. The sound of something lurking along side the crackle of a fire fills the room. A silent murmuring, in voices her couldn't quite hear, resonate throughout the area. Slowly, the man begins to open his eyes in an effort to grasp his situation. His vision isn't in the best of shape as he looks upon a hazy and dimly lit cave wall. His mind too, is glossed over as he slowly and painfully scans the room. With each turn of his neck, the murmuring in the room gets louder and the pain intensifies. It's not long before his eyes rested upon the fire and what lied past it. If he wasn’t in such a state of exhaustion, he might have questioned what he saw, might have even tried to flee from it; for what he saw was two brightly colored and heavily deformed horses. Before his head fell from exhaustion, he swore he saw one wearing a hat with dung on it. It extends its neck to impossible lengths and emitted a large gasp. After what he saw, he’d gladly welcome either sleep or death. After what feels like an hour of uneasy sleep, he was awoken by voices. Voices that were chattering some distance away from his laying form. He can't make out what they're saying. Not yet. Groaning once more, the man rises up and opened his eyes. Pain screams at him from every inch of his body, demanding him to lay back down. He powers on through, despite its efforts to make him still. He starts to scan the dimly lit cave, quietly looking for the voices he heard. His eyes rest upon two still figures in the distant side of the cave. Their large eyes shine bright with life, and fear, as they fixate on his every movement. Looking around the cave, he scans for a close wall to lean against. Luckily, the man didn’t have to move far as it seems a wall was immediately to his left. Slowly, the man moved his body to lean against the wall, fixating his eyes to the figures. After a moment, he decides to break the silence and uneasy stares with his own uneasy voice. “You the ones who dragged me into this place, away from the cold?" he asks, "If so, I must thank you with all my being... But I must also ask, what are you? I haven't seen anything like you before..." He stops to think to himself for a second before shaking his head and speaking his mind. “I’m not even sure you can understand me...” They look at each other for a second before one returns its gaze to him. The fear in its eyes was replaced by utter joy as it seems to hop forward, a big grin on its face. The closer it gets to the fire, the more he can make out of what it is. It seems to be a pink horse like creature and appears to be wearing a pile of dung on its head. When it spoke, it was as he had always imagined the chatter of a wild faerie might sound. “That’s a silly question! What are we? Why, we’re ponies of course! How about you, huh? What’re you?” It starts hopping towards him when hear another voice. ”Uh, your Chancellorship, I wouldn’t get so close to it...” The man can slightly make out what the other one looks like; It’s an orange horse wearing a puffy vest and a hat. It’s eyes waver with a bit of doubt. He slowly raises his hand, causing the pink one to stops. “I won’t cause any harm. Even if I wanted to, I’m not in the shape. It hurts just to speak.” He lowers his hand, causing the pink one to start jumping towards him at a faster rate than before. “You asked what I was? I’m a Nord. A Nord farmer to be exact.” ”Oh!” the pink one exclaims. “You’re just like us!” He raises an eyebrow. “I am? I see no resemblance. The only thing I can even think that match up with me, is the language.” The orange one speaks up. ”She means we’re all farmers in here. When she said we’re ponies, she left out that we’re earth ponies.” “There’s other types?” he replies, a hint of shock in his voice. The pink one nods. “There are three types of ponies. The barbaric pegasi and the rotten unicorns! Both of them bully us and use us to grow their food... But that’s going to change when we find some new land!” She laughs a bit, but that laugh soon sounds forced. The pink one is standing by the fire, now. Judging from her looks, she hasn’t eaten that much in a while. The same might be for the orange one. It’s silent for a moment again, mostly because he didn’t want to pry on their situation. The pink one breaks the silence. ”Oh, silly me! We never said our names! I’m Chancellor Puddinghead, and that over there is my faithful advisor, Smart Cookie.” The one named Smart Cookie tips her hat at the man but doesn’t release her uneasy gaze from him. ”Nice to meet you...?” He smiles as she says his name. “Obekant. That’s my given name.” She smiles back. “Nice to meet you, Obekant.” “Likewise to you two,” he replies, nodding at them. Puddinghead lets out a yawn and talks with a drowsy voice. “ I’m beat... We spent all night watching you...” She walks over to Cookies side and lays down. Her voice, now sapped of all energy, spoke up. “I’ll be taking a nap... Wake me up when it’s time to leave...” Cookie looks at Puddinghead and then back to Obekant. “I might as well follow suit. What she said wasn’t wrong... We were sorta scared of what you were...” she says. Obekant rubs his head. “Then why would you help me?” She looks down to the ground before giving her response. ”We... we couldn’t stand to see another being die like that.” He gives off a warm smile. “Thanks. Never would I have thought that such kind beings would exist, but today I was proven wrong. I think it’s best for you to turn in as well. I feel a bit tired as well.” She returns the smile.“I think I will.” Laying down, she curls up and uses her tail as a cushion. Obekant gazes into the fire for a moment. The dancing flames play upon Obekants thoughts as he rethinks the past hours; the question of where he is, popping into his mind. Leaning his head back against the wall, Obekant decides to wait until everyone is awake to ask questions. Sliding down, he returns to the bedding he woke up on and shortly falls asleep. Frost EndDeciding to call it an end, you shut the book and look around the class. After a quick sweep, you allow your eyes rest on the teacher. “Alright. I assume an hour is good enough, Ms. Cheerilee?” you ask. She nods and goes to speak. You cut her off by standing up and speaking before her. “If, and when, you would like me to do this again, ask Applebloom to summon me,” you start, “She knows where I live and is one of the few brave enough to visit me often.” “Well, if it’s not too much, would you mind coming out everyday?” she asks. A scowl grows on your face. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think?” you retort She frowns. “How about every other day, then?” You see something move towards you and the teacher. Glancing down, you see Applebloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo standing next to you. They all speak up at once. “He’d gladly do it everyday!” “I would?” you ask, confused Scootaloo tugs on your belt slightly, signaling for you to crouch. You bend over and she whispers quietly into your ear. “If you don’t, Zecora will pay you a visit.” You shoot a glare at her a glare and stand back up. “Something the matter?” Cheerilee asks, noticing the look on your face You shake your head and sigh. “No... and as they said. I can do everyday...” You respond, a hint of defeat in your voice. “Not that I WANT to...” you say, under your breath. Cheerilee doesn’t notice what you said and gives you a big smile. “Excellent! I can’t wait to hear the next part of the story!” You nod and look out the nearby window, noticing the time. Eliciting a groan, you turn towards the desk and start talking. “Alright. I’m going to get going. I have about an hour long walk to not enjoy.” As you pack, you hear Cheerilee speak up. “Where do you live?” “Middle of the Everfree.” you reply, packing your things. Her eyes widen and she places a hoof over her mouth. “In the middle of that dangerous forest?” You give a grunt before replying. “It’s a jungle and don’t you have a class to be teaching?” “Well, yes, but-” “Then get to teaching. I’m leaving now.” you say, cutting her off. You faintly hear her say her goodbyes before you exit the door. Trudging along your way, you hope to get home before THEY wake up… You’re not in the mood to fight them off. Hell, you’re never in the mood to fight them off. Just thinking about them makes you cringe. Deciding to calm your nerves, you reach into the pouch you placed your pipe. Grabbing around inside of your bag, you find it and pull it free, along with a single match. Walking close to a stall, you light the match on the counter and ignite the contents of your pipe. You can faintly hear a pony yelling at you, but you quickly drown them out with a long drag on your pipe. As your sense dull along with your thoughts, you exhale the smoke and look up to the sky as you walk to the Everfree, thinking of the events to transpire. It’s been ages since you have had told the story of Obekant… Thinking about your ancestor, you adjust your belt; it’s a habit that emerges when you think of him. The tarnished silver “O” on the buckle glimmers in the light of the afternoon sun. You glance back in the direction of the school house, thinking of the days to come. Who knows? They might be fun. With another long drag on your pipe, you kick your stride into overdrive, hoping to beat the sun back home.
Frost Part OneLight seeps in from the clutter of trees and leaves as you walk along the beaten path. The odd sounds of the creatures of the massive jungle surround you; some stalking you, some fleeing from you. The dark and humid forest, while looming over the people outside its boundaries, is what you consider home. You find the only reason you’re walking to town now is because you’ve been called out from your house by your only neighbor, a strange zebra named Zecora. She had asked you to head to town to help with something. You faintly recall it being about the teacher wanting some help on history. Of course you tried to say no, about how you dislike going to town... but that woman, that witch... She... well, she scares you. You have no idea what she’s able to do or with what freaky voodoo crap she might curse you. With a sigh, you take a long drag on your pipe to calm your nerves as you walk along the path to town, each step making the piccolo on your neck bounce along with your knapsack as you think of what you’re going to say to the town's folk. You let your mind wander for a while before settling on answering the question of who it was that leaked your existence. Zecora knows your disdain for encountering people and only four others know you. It’s not really a hard task matching the one who snitched on you and how you’re going to deal with them. With a scowl, you reach the edge of jungle. If anyone saw you now, they’d probably run or gawk at you, yelling or whispering something like... “Sweet Celestia! Something just walked out of the Everfree Forest!” yelled what sounded like a panicked stallion. Your scowl deepens as you retort at the man. “It’s a jungle, you ignorant twat!” You stand there with your two hooves planted firmly on the ground, holding your knapsack in your left and holding your pipe in your right, watching the pony run towards the town. That pony acted like he’s never seen a satyr. Watching him, you notice that he seems to run towards the direction of the town. You’d like to get your job done and over with as soon as possible so you can return home, so after adjusting your belt, you follow the tracks the stallion left to the town. It’s not long before you’re almost in the town square. You barely set a hoof in the borders of the town before that pony from before starts a small panic. Wanting to keep moving, you try to ignore them, but it doesn’t look like the thick crowd is going to allow you to get going anywhere anytime soon. A small panic and a mob start to form around you. Seeing only one easy way to stop this commotion, you let out a sigh. Dropping your knapsack, you smother the ember in your pipe and put it in the pouch you carry around your waist. The crowd is watching you intently, trying to find out your motives. Calmly, you raise your piccolo to your lips and blow softly. The ponies calm down and stare at you intently. Once you get in a good rhythm, you close your eyes and start to move. You carry yourself as if you were a leaf blowing and dancing in the wind. With closed eyes, you could only imagine the silent crowd watch with baited breath as you dance away. Whenever you play your piccolo, you enter your own world; a world comprised of only you and the music. With a push of a single leg, you hop from your left leg to your right and use the momentum to spin around. With the end of the spin, you feel that you've done more than enough to please the crowd. You cease playing your piccolo and open your eyes. The stern look on your face still remains, along with the same dull expression and your, voice full of scorn when you speak. “Was that enough to calm you morons down?” They’re all silent, looking at you for answers. One familiar looking pony breaks through the dense crowd and greets you. ”Well howdy, Anon! Ah didn’t expect you to get here so fast!” Your left eye twitches a bit and you crouch down. “Applebloom. Didn’t I ask you—no, make you promise—to tell no one of my existence?” She looks down and kicks at the ground, knocking a bit of dirt loose. ”Yes...” “Now, would you mind telling me how did that teacher came to learn of me?” you ask, glaring daggers at her. She glances up at you, still kicking the ground. ”She asked the class to bring in a pony to tell the story of Hearth’s Warming Eve…” she said, her voice sounding like she’s on the verge of tears. “And I popped into your mind?” you reply, ignoring her tears. She nods. “I spoke up without thinking...” You glare at her and she shrinks back. “I thought of you when you were telling me, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle those old stories... You told them with large smile on your face.” You glare at her. “That’s not going to work, kid.” You hear her mumble something under her breath before she speaks up. “I’ll tell Zecora you wouldn’t do it!” You groan at the mention of Zecora. You really don’t like having to talk with her.. “No, please don’t. I’ll do it.” She smirks. “But... There’s a glaring problem in your plan.” She looks up at you as you grab your knapsack. “I’ve told you this once before. I’m not a pony. I’m a satyr.” She smiles and jumps around you. “Now we have a teacher to find, don’t we?” She looks up to you and smiles before nodding. “Yeah!” You pick her up and position her on your head. “Now do me a favor and point the way.” For the time being, you're going to have to act your best and put on a smile... no matter how uncomfortable you are. So with a false smile and a seemingly gleeful jump up, you gather your things and start on your way with Applebloom leading the way. The walk to the schoolhouse is short and forgettable; the expected gawking and whispering was far from mind. Standing in front of the schoolhouse, Applebloom jumps down and tells you to wait there. She runs inside and you lean against the side of the building, thinking about rekindling your pipe. That idea flees from you when two small fillies walk towards you. One has a small tiara on. You immediately peg her as an over-privileged brat. Her friend looks like someone who just follows the popular one, copying his or her personality. They stop in front of you and the pink one starts to talk. “What are YOU supposed to be? Nightmare Night was months ago!” You don’t like her already, so you decide to keep it short. “Says the one with a plastic tiara. What’re you, the princess of make-believe?” Oh, she’s pissed. She stamps her hoof into the ground and yells at you. “PLASTIC?! I’ll have you know this was hoof-made in Canterlot with real diamonds!” “I bet that’s what your daddy said so you’d shut up.” She pouts and her friend takes her place. You trace her hoof to your piccolo, causing your eye to twitch. You keep your cool and shrug it off with a reply. “By all rights, it costs more than Canterlot Castle. But I’ll let you believe what you want.” They’re about to muster up a reply when an excited Applebloom storms outside, calling for you. “Anon! Ms. Cheerilee called you—” She stops right in her tracks when she sees the brats. Her eyes glance at you when she asks, “Were they bothering you, Anon?” You shake your head. “Not really, no. So, as you were saying?” “You can go in now.” she replies, her voice almost monotone, still glaring at the two brats. Shrugging, you reply, “Alright then.” Pushing off the side of the building, you turn to the door, shooting one last glare at the two of the fillies as they walk past you. Trudging yourself in through the doorway, you get greeted by widespread murmuring. Glancing down at Applebloom, you whisper to her, “You remembered to tell them I wasn’t exactly a pony... right?” She hits her head lightly with her left hoof before exclaiming, “Ah knew Ah forgot something!” You groan and smack your face with your hand. “Let’s get this over with...” You walk up to who you assume to be the teacher and give a mocking bow. “I assume you’re the teacher of the class?” you ask. ”Err, I.. I am...” the teacher replies. You raise up and examine her. Upon looking at her, you see that she's nothing special: a mare of cerise colour and a two-toned mane comprised of two shades of pink. You can see she feels a tad uneasy as she shuffles back a bit, unsure of you. Sighing, you hold up your right hand. “I mean no harm, Ms...?” She stops moving back and answers your question timidly. “Cheerilee...” “Ms. Cheerilee. I was contacted by a... neighbour... that told me you were looking for a storyteller. Am I wrong?” She shakes her head. “No. It’s just that...” You cut her off. “You weren’t expecting someone like me? I get that a lot. If you want, I can leave.” She looks at you and then to the ground, as if she was disappointed at herself. “No, please. Stay.” she says, sounding a bit disheartened. You smile before responding. “Now, when am I to start?” “After you introduce yourself.” she says, waving over the class with her left hoof. A scowl forms across your face at the mention of a name. You should have thought that a name would have come up. You walk over to the nearby desk and place your knapsack on it. Opening it, you rummage through it for the proper volume of the journals. Finding it, you return to the front of the class. “As Ms. Cheerilee said, introductions are required. So, I’ll get this out of the way. I have no name. My mother didn’t name me, she didn’t live long enough to be able to, nor did I have any friends to do so.” The class starts to look around when you pause for a second to look for the next words. They quiet down when you continue to speak. “For the sake of politeness, you may refer to me as either Anonymous or Story Teller. Either or will work.” You grab a nearby stool and place in in the front. “Now, before I start, I have a few rules. They are: No talking while I tell the story, no note passing while I tell the story, and all questions you have will be held at the end of the chapter. Any questions?” One colt raises his hoof nod at him. “What are you?” he asks bluntly. You sigh before replying. “A satyr. Half human, half pony. I’m living proof of the events I’m about to tell. Anything else?” The colt shakes his head and you see another hoof raised. It’s one of the brats from earlier. “Nothing? Then I’ll start.” You sit down on the stool and open the book. The brat with the tiara shouts as you ignore her. “Hey! Don’t ignore me!” You look up from your book and glare at her. “Remember my rules. If you don’t, I’ll ask the teacher to boot you from the class.” She puts her hoof down and pouts. Your gaze returns to the book and you start telling the tale.“This is the story of Obekant. The Son of Winter.”
Frost Part Two: ObekantThe shrill singing of the cold winds mistress bellowed through out the frost covered valley. The bitter wind forces flakes of snow to skip across the ground. Barely noticeable is a man sitting on the cold ground, his back up against the trunk of a naked tree, raggedly breathing in the cold air of the night His eyes are slightly glazed over as he seemingly rests peacefully on the icy path. The air burns as he slowly exhales. The tips of his fingers are numb from the cold. It's cold, so cold. The dark sky seemingly weeping, its tears have frozen over into droplets of snow and cover the land and parts of his body. The feel of the cold air’s hands slowly climbing up his body as he gazes towards the sky. What did I do to the gods to earn this as a reward? he thinks to himself. The frosty airs hands now embrace his neck, their cold burn lulling him to sleep. His wish to deny the air its dream of giving him eternal rest slowly escapes him, along with his strength. As his eyelids slowly fall, a thought crosses his mind, causing him to chuckle. Loki has tricked another one, it seems. His eyes clench shut as an unknown weight steps on his belly, spending the last of his strength. The man started to stir, the feel of a radiant warmth from nearby; the heat lessening the cold airs grip on his body, letting warmth spread through him once more. The sound of something lurking along side the crackle of a fire fills the room. A silent murmuring, in voices her couldn't quite hear, resonate throughout the area. Slowly, the man begins to open his eyes in an effort to grasp his situation. His vision isn't in the best of shape as he looks upon a hazy and dimly lit cave wall. His mind too, is glossed over as he slowly and painfully scans the room. With each turn of his neck, the murmuring in the room gets louder and the pain intensifies. It's not long before his eyes rested upon the fire and what lied past it. If he wasn’t in such a state of exhaustion, he might have questioned what he saw, might have even tried to flee from it; for what he saw was two brightly colored and heavily deformed horses. Before his head fell from exhaustion, he swore he saw one wearing a hat with dung on it. It extends its neck to impossible lengths and emitted a large gasp. After what he saw, he’d gladly welcome either sleep or death. After what feels like an hour of uneasy sleep, he was awoken by voices. Voices that were chattering some distance away from his laying form. He can't make out what they're saying. Not yet. Groaning once more, the man rises up and opened his eyes. Pain screams at him from every inch of his body, demanding him to lay back down. He powers on through, despite its efforts to make him still. He starts to scan the dimly lit cave, quietly looking for the voices he heard. His eyes rest upon two still figures in the distant side of the cave. Their large eyes shine bright with life, and fear, as they fixate on his every movement. Looking around the cave, he scans for a close wall to lean against. Luckily, the man didn’t have to move far as it seems a wall was immediately to his left. Slowly, the man moved his body to lean against the wall, fixating his eyes to the figures. After a moment, he decides to break the silence and uneasy stares with his own uneasy voice. “You the ones who dragged me into this place, away from the cold?" he asks, "If so, I must thank you with all my being... But I must also ask, what are you? I haven't seen anything like you before..." He stops to think to himself for a second before shaking his head and speaking his mind. “I’m not even sure you can understand me...” They look at each other for a second before one returns its gaze to him. The fear in its eyes was replaced by utter joy as it seems to hop forward, a big grin on its face. The closer it gets to the fire, the more he can make out of what it is. It seems to be a pink horse like creature and appears to be wearing a pile of dung on its head. When it spoke, it was as he had always imagined the chatter of a wild faerie might sound. “That’s a silly question! What are we? Why, we’re ponies of course! How about you, huh? What’re you?” It starts hopping towards him when hear another voice. ”Uh, your Chancellorship, I wouldn’t get so close to it...” The man can slightly make out what the other one looks like; It’s an orange horse wearing a puffy vest and a hat. It’s eyes waver with a bit of doubt. He slowly raises his hand, causing the pink one to stops. “I won’t cause any harm. Even if I wanted to, I’m not in the shape. It hurts just to speak.” He lowers his hand, causing the pink one to start jumping towards him at a faster rate than before. “You asked what I was? I’m a Nord. A Nord farmer to be exact.” ”Oh!” the pink one exclaims. “You’re just like us!” He raises an eyebrow. “I am? I see no resemblance. The only thing I can even think that match up with me, is the language.” The orange one speaks up. ”She means we’re all farmers in here. When she said we’re ponies, she left out that we’re earth ponies.” “There’s other types?” he replies, a hint of shock in his voice. The pink one nods. “There are three types of ponies. The barbaric pegasi and the rotten unicorns! Both of them bully us and use us to grow their food... But that’s going to change when we find some new land!” She laughs a bit, but that laugh soon sounds forced. The pink one is standing by the fire, now. Judging from her looks, she hasn’t eaten that much in a while. The same might be for the orange one. It’s silent for a moment again, mostly because he didn’t want to pry on their situation. The pink one breaks the silence. ”Oh, silly me! We never said our names! I’m Chancellor Puddinghead, and that over there is my faithful advisor, Smart Cookie.” The one named Smart Cookie tips her hat at the man but doesn’t release her uneasy gaze from him. ”Nice to meet you...?” He smiles as she says his name. “Obekant. That’s my given name.” She smiles back. “Nice to meet you, Obekant.” “Likewise to you two,” he replies, nodding at them. Puddinghead lets out a yawn and talks with a drowsy voice. “ I’m beat... We spent all night watching you...” She walks over to Cookies side and lays down. Her voice, now sapped of all energy, spoke up. “I’ll be taking a nap... Wake me up when it’s time to leave...” Cookie looks at Puddinghead and then back to Obekant. “I might as well follow suit. What she said wasn’t wrong... We were sorta scared of what you were...” she says. Obekant rubs his head. “Then why would you help me?” She looks down to the ground before giving her response. ”We... we couldn’t stand to see another being die like that.” He gives off a warm smile. “Thanks. Never would I have thought that such kind beings would exist, but today I was proven wrong. I think it’s best for you to turn in as well. I feel a bit tired as well.” She returns the smile.“I think I will.” Laying down, she curls up and uses her tail as a cushion. Obekant gazes into the fire for a moment. The dancing flames play upon Obekants thoughts as he rethinks the past hours; the question of where he is, popping into his mind. Leaning his head back against the wall, Obekant decides to wait until everyone is awake to ask questions. Sliding down, he returns to the bedding he woke up on and shortly falls asleep.
Frost EndDeciding to call it an end, you shut the book and look around the class. After a quick sweep, you allow your eyes rest on the teacher. “Alright. I assume an hour is good enough, Ms. Cheerilee?” you ask. She nods and goes to speak. You cut her off by standing up and speaking before her. “If, and when, you would like me to do this again, ask Applebloom to summon me,” you start, “She knows where I live and is one of the few brave enough to visit me often.” “Well, if it’s not too much, would you mind coming out everyday?” she asks. A scowl grows on your face. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think?” you retort She frowns. “How about every other day, then?” You see something move towards you and the teacher. Glancing down, you see Applebloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo standing next to you. They all speak up at once. “He’d gladly do it everyday!” “I would?” you ask, confused Scootaloo tugs on your belt slightly, signaling for you to crouch. You bend over and she whispers quietly into your ear. “If you don’t, Zecora will pay you a visit.” You shoot a glare at her a glare and stand back up. “Something the matter?” Cheerilee asks, noticing the look on your face You shake your head and sigh. “No... and as they said. I can do everyday...” You respond, a hint of defeat in your voice. “Not that I WANT to...” you say, under your breath. Cheerilee doesn’t notice what you said and gives you a big smile. “Excellent! I can’t wait to hear the next part of the story!” You nod and look out the nearby window, noticing the time. Eliciting a groan, you turn towards the desk and start talking. “Alright. I’m going to get going. I have about an hour long walk to not enjoy.” As you pack, you hear Cheerilee speak up. “Where do you live?” “Middle of the Everfree.” you reply, packing your things. Her eyes widen and she places a hoof over her mouth. “In the middle of that dangerous forest?” You give a grunt before replying. “It’s a jungle and don’t you have a class to be teaching?” “Well, yes, but-” “Then get to teaching. I’m leaving now.” you say, cutting her off. You faintly hear her say her goodbyes before you exit the door. Trudging along your way, you hope to get home before THEY wake up… You’re not in the mood to fight them off. Hell, you’re never in the mood to fight them off. Just thinking about them makes you cringe. Deciding to calm your nerves, you reach into the pouch you placed your pipe. Grabbing around inside of your bag, you find it and pull it free, along with a single match. Walking close to a stall, you light the match on the counter and ignite the contents of your pipe. You can faintly hear a pony yelling at you, but you quickly drown them out with a long drag on your pipe. As your sense dull along with your thoughts, you exhale the smoke and look up to the sky as you walk to the Everfree, thinking of the events to transpire. It’s been ages since you have had told the story of Obekant… Thinking about your ancestor, you adjust your belt; it’s a habit that emerges when you think of him. The tarnished silver “O” on the buckle glimmers in the light of the afternoon sun. You glance back in the direction of the school house, thinking of the days to come. Who knows? They might be fun. With another long drag on your pipe, you kick your stride into overdrive, hoping to beat the sun back home.
