Clang went the swords as they rammed against each other, the ponies wielding them drenched in sweat, despite the bitter tug of oncoming winter at their fur. It was high noon in the training court, and the sun glared on the armor of the dueling knights. Around the two ponies fighting, other knights watched the battle. Each knight bore an insignia of their fiefdom, a concept lost as time went on in the land of Equestria. However, time was not moving on at the moment, and the moment was now a duel.

Slashing down with his sword, the lead knight fought against the rookie mercilessly, using every trick he knew. If the new recruit failed this test, then he would be sent back home with his sword broke in two, a sign of loss of valor and honor to most in this kingdom. If a man could not wield a sword, then he was not a man.

The rookie blocked the strike, his hooves beginning to buckle from the amazing strength of the pony he fought. His armor was dented in places from where the knight had succeeded in striking him. However, the pony had to grin, seeing a few dents on the knight as well. Despite being many years younger than the lead knight, this colt was strong enough to blow back his sword. Having memorized the movements in his head of exactly the correct parries and thrusts, cuts and slashes, the rookie attacked, taking the offensive.

The knight, surprised by the young ones courage, quickly switched to defensive, blocking as many attacks as he could. This boy is a worthy match for your like, he thought to himself. Bringing up his sword to block an attack, he gasped as he felt tremendous weight behind the attack. He nearly collapsed to the ground in surprise. Such power…

The colt took this surprise to his advantage. Flaring out his wings, he rose up into the air slightly and stabbed downwards. The knight beneath him could not dodge, as he was still stunned from the last attack. Carefully angling his sword, the colt slammed it into the field beneath them. On one side of the sword was the knight’s startled face. On the other side was his sword. With a simple flick of his sword, the knight was disarmed. “Point,” the colt said in a voice befitting him, somewhat prideful and full of courage, though still wavering between a boyish tenor and a strong baritone.

The knight nodded. “Yield.” He began to stand when the colt offered his hoof. The knight took it gratefully, hoisting himself up. He slid off his helmet, his mane slick with sweat. His eyes shone with amazement. “Methinks thou art far worthy of this battle, young one. Come. Show your face and revel in your victory.”

The colt slid off his helmet slowly, also sweating. His face was young and roguish, yet there was still the hope and yearning for something greater in his silver – blue eyes. His mane was two tone grey, spiked even as it glistened with sweat. He panted slightly from the noonday heat, flapping his wings lightly to try and cool off. “T’was certainly an honor to fight with formidableness such as yours, Sir Knight.”

The knight laughed, a deep, booming laugh. “Call me Cedar, young one. Cedar Shield. What shall we call thou?”

The colt smiled. “My name is Morrigan, Sir Cedar.”

Cedar raised his eyebrow, smiling still. “Morrigan? The Goddess of Strife? How unfortunate a name for a man as yourself.”

Morrigan laughed, albeit a tad ruefully. “Tis only a name, Sir Knight. My mother saw fit to name me as such, and thus, it shall be my name. She is fond of tales of Gods and Myths.”

The knight nodded. “Very well, young Morrigan.” He glanced over the colt before him, his face growing more serious. “Just how old art thou, colt?”

“I shall come of drafting age next harvest moon, Sir Cedar.”

Cedar nodded. He seems young for 16… “Very well, Morrigan. If thou art interested in fighting for thine right to live and thy right to serve your fiefdom when thou come of age, then seek me out. Methinks we may make thou a knight yet.”

Morrigan smiled brightly, his eyes shining with a childish abandon. Long ago, he had watched the knights ride out, knives and blades wielded with magic and hoof. He had always dreamed of being a knight. “Many thanks, Sir Cedar.”

The knight laughed another booming laugh, reaching down and tussling the boy’s mane. Morrigan shook his head, getting his hair situated again. While he may be 15, he was still a child at heart. “Go on, Morrigan. Rejoin thine comrades in thine own quests.” With that, Sir Cedar trotted off with the rest of his men.

Morrigan watched them go until they had passed out of his sight. He sighed in relief at having beaten the knight. If he had not, then he would have gone home and broken his sword further over the table, vowing to take up some womanly hobby, such as cooking or sewing. He would be forever humiliated by his failure on this field. Yes, Morrigan was VERY pleased to have passed. “Thank the Gods,” he whispered under his breath, muttering a small prayer of thanks.

“Gods have nothing to do with it, Morr!”

Morrigan’s head shot up as he jumped and turned, beaming. “Fiery!” Behind him, galloping this way, was a colt his age. His fur was a brighter blue than Morrigan’s, more like a sky blue than anything. His eyes were a bright orange, and his wings were a bit more sturdy and larger than a normal pegasus usually had. His mane was dark, almost black, but with a dark blue tint. He flew on over, and Morrigan could feel the gust of wind his wings kicked up. He grinned as his closest friend landed nest to him. “Did thou stay to watch that battle?”

“Um, Morr. Duh. Why else would I come to this smelly old battleground?” Morrigan always had noticed Fiery had chosen to speak in his own way. He was far more relaxed than Morrigan, but Morrigan had never minded. After all, they were friends. “You totally kicked that knight guy's as-“

“Fiery!”

“What?” his friend asked innocently, a grin on his face.

Morrigan facehoofed, groaning. “Try to keep thine foul mouth at bay, my friend.”

“No promises~” Both ponies laughed in unison, quite the pair. Fiery glanced around the now abandoned field, but for a few stray ponies who were making their ways home for noonday meal. He smirked as he saw a pale orange mare wake past, a small distance away. “Hey, Morr. There’s Katrina~”

Morrigan blushed slightly, realizing he was soaked in sweat, and his armor smelled like a rusty pot, and his mane… He’d rather not think about what he smelled or looked like right now. “Thinkest thou that my image is not to terribly horrendous?”

Fiery rolled his eyes. “Morr. Bud. You look horrible. You’ve been fighting knights all day, what do you expect?”

Morrigan groaned, his confidence from the fight suddenly evaporating in the sun. “Please, Gods, don’t let her see me.”

Fiery laughed. “Don’t worry about it. She’s walking away.” Morrigan sighed in relief as Fiery kept laughing. “You have got it bad, Morrigan.”

Morrigan looked at his friend, eyes wide with fear. “I have ‘got it’ bad? Pray tell, what is this illness that I have contracted? Is it terminal?”

Fiery laughed harder. “It’s called puppy love, Morr, and let me tell you – you’ve got it REALLY bad.”

Morrigan gasped. “Please, Fiery, tell me kind words… How long dost thou think I have?”

Fiery looked at him in amazement. “You’ve never heard of puppy love?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never been in a circumstance to have heard the term…”

Fiery groaned. “Morrigan, you SERIOUSLY need to learn more about the world. Puppy love just means that you really really like Katrina, much like a puppy loves their owner.”

“So… Katrina owns me?”

Fiery burst out laughing harder than ever at that one, nearly falling over. The image of Morrigan wearing a collar was too much for him. “I-In a way,” he finally managed to reply, still laughing.

Morrigan wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. He wasn’t sure he enjoyed the prospect of being owned by a woman. He opened his mouth to try and say something, until he heard a shout from across the field. “Icarus Fiery Gale!!”

Both colts turned to look at a pegasus mare trotting their way. Fiery groaned, seeing it was his mother. He stood, sighing.“Great, it’s mom…”

“Do not say ‘it’s mom’ to me, thou ungrateful...,” she said in a huff as she came closer. “This is where thou hast been all day?! I told thee to stay in the house!” Both boys glanced at each other as she said this, one asking for sympathy with his eyes, and the other mouthing his inability to act back. “Thou come right along with me!” Fiery winced as his mother grabbed him by his ear.

“Come on, Mom, it’s not like I’m gonna get ran through by a sword or something! This is a safe village!”

“Thou knowest not of all thou says.” Fiery rolled his eyes to Morrigan. “Come on, shoo! Come on!”

Fiery sighed as his mother dragged him by his ear. “S-see you later, Morrigan!” He shouted, wincing slightly at a particularly hard tug at his ear. Morrigan chuckled, watching the two squabble. He had never quite understood his friend’s mother, but then again, his friend’s mother was not his own mother.

Morrigan started home, his helmet tucked away under his wing. He said hello to the various ponies around town that he knew, always kind. All of them smiled back – A few waved in greeting, smiled, or even came in close for a hug. Many stood at a further distance than normal – and preferably upwind. Methinks I should bathe when I arrive at my home, Morrigan thought with a slight blush. While bathing was certainly an out of place idea this close to winter, he quickly realized he did not wish to smell of armor all night.

He stopped and backed against a nearby building as he saw Katrina in the distance. She stood, her back to him, running her hoof over the bark of a tree. He smiled lightly, watching her. She always liked trees, he thought. He took in her image, realizing dimly that his friend had been right - He had it bad. Her fur was pale with red tinted spots, not uncommon in these parts. The way she moved made her body sway in the light of the sun, making her fur dance like the rising sun on the cloudy morn. Her green mane shone in his eyes like a dark emerald, coiling into a braid and lying next to her neck. Her eyes shown with a beauty unimaginable, specks of purple light among a dark world. She was beauty incarnate to him, the rarest jewel in the entire kingdom. He sighed, watching her, warmth growing in his chest. What he wouldn’t give to see her beside him… to hold her close… whispering in her ear... feeling her breath on his cheek as she-

Morrigan flushed red, quickly dismissing such thoughts and continuing to walk away. He realized quite quickly how improper such thoughts were. While he felt a burning in his heart for the mare, he could not go to her. Things were already tense in the village without a pegasus going after an earth pony.

Morrigan sighed, thinking about the circumstances, the warmth from seeing Katrina and the battle both beginning to fade, leaving the cool Autumn air to nip at his fur. While none openly said it, seeing who Morrigan’s father was, there was animosity between the three races that lived in this village. Pegasi were uncommon in this place, preferring their mysterious sky homes. However, since Morrigan’s father, Fury Strike, had married an earth pony, they were forced to settle on the ground. The village had been distrusting at first, and even once, some unlucky soul had thrown a stone at Morrigan’s mother, yelling at her to leave this village with, as Morrigan remembered, ‘that pompous oaf thou name husband ’.

The stallion had only been confined to bed rest for 3 months as his rib cage and hoof healed. Fury had quite swiftly taken his gauntlet and threw it down on the ground, challenging the man to a trial of lances. It had ended as Morrigan assumed it would – The stallion who had insulted his father and threw a stone at his mother had ended up begging for mercy. Fury had only just spared his life.

After that, Fury Strike had been renowned for his fighting abilities – It seemed the stallion who had insulted them was none other than the Elder’s son, who was well known for his strength. Fury rose in popularity, and when the Elder passed away, he became the newly elected leader of their small town. Morrigan, by default, was then living in his father’s shadow – and none would insult the Fury family, nor any other race. Fury would not stand for it.

Morrigan realized with a start that he had arrived home. He had been so caught up with thoughts of the past, he hadn’t realized he had come home already. In his mental absence, the sun had begun it’s decent. He smiled at it softly, appreciating the unicorns for their magic prowess, despite their elitism about it. Few unicorn were in the village here, but those who were kept to themselves.

He opened the door softly, smiling as the smell of his mother’s familiar cooking reached his nose. “Mother, I’ve returned,” he said, calling to the kitchen.

“Welcome home, my son,” he heard a voice call back. He trotted into the kitchen, seeing his mother hard at work at the stove. She turned to him, raising her eyebrows. “Leave thy sword at the door, son. I dislike weapons at my table.”

“Very well, mother.”

“And wash up – Thou smell of a rusted pot.”

Morrigan winced and went to the wash room at once, discarding his armor. After a bitterly cold soak in the water, he brought his armor to his room and left it in his closet. He then returned to the kitchen to find supper on the table, and all was well with the world.

Author's Note

Finished the prolouge, April 19th
BTW, Supper was, back then, a sort of meal before dinner. ^^