Silver Shill stood atop the Crystal Wall. His view was magnificent. It was truly a sight few were unfortunate enough to see. The light grey pony watched over miles and miles of snow covered land abounding with deep, untamed forests and ancient mountains that spread as far as the eye could see.
More often than not a pony of Equestria knew of the Crystal Wall. They will have heard stories of how wondrously tall the tonnes of clear crystal stacked, reaching far higher than the clouds, maybe even piercing the sky itself. Well, the Lunar Guard made sure to quell those rumours. Mist and cloud may have often gathered around the Wall, but it did not, in fact, pierce the sky.
Those who had no knowledge of the structure asked how one could fly so high in order to see so far. The Guards simply told them they did not fly. Though the Crystal Wall was the highest structure in Equestria, a marvel few could believe lest they see it for themselves, the Guards still used means other than flight to travel up and down it.
It would be a rare occurrence even for birds to fly that far up, and less so for anything bigger. Those Pegasi stupid and daring enough to take off from the chilling reaches of the Wall had been known to freeze within minutes. Their wings stiffened, their blood ran cold, and they would plummet many hundreds of metres to an icy grave.
For two years Silver Shill had endured the biting winds which roared. Once upon a time he had feared heights, before when he was a simple fraud who aided certain tricksters in selling false goods. When they fled from justice they made sure to leave him in the dust, just to be sure they would have enough time to get away.
When he first arrived at Castle Jet his jaw fell flat on the snowy ground. ‘You’ll be up there most of your life,’ the Lord Commander had informed him with a pat on the back, as if it were some comfort. Now he often contemplated leaping off the Wall to end his suffering.
His comrades sometimes found him as still as the hills of ice that perked North of the Wall after hours of staring out into the silent world beyond. His thick, black fur cloak did nothing to prevent the winds from nipping his coat while he stood watch, and his dark purple armour, matching the colour of Princess Luna, gave him no protection. Rather it froze like every other forsaken thing in the North, leaving him afraid to budge an inch should his coat press against the raw metal. The only thing a pony could do to keep even remotely warm was to rest as close to a fire as possible, though be careful not to lean too far into the flames.
Burns were a common injury among the Lunar Guard. The cold numbed the leg so much one could not feel when the fire melted away the coat. It was only when another smelled the stench of cooked pony that they would realise and cry out for aid. It would be a long ride down before they could reach the Maester, and even he sometimes couldn’t do much, depending on the burn. His blind eyes could not recognise the severity of wounds.
Silver Shill thought back over his two years at the Crystal Wall. Shit food, shitter beds, and shittier jobs; that’s all he could sum up the experience as. Serving as a steward felt worthless. How could he claim that he defended the free people of Equestria when he spent his time emptying shit from a bucket and roasting scraggy corn on the cob over a mildly warm fire?
Nopony he knew had even seen any of the dangerous beasts the Northerners seemed to constantly rave about. No Timberwolves, no fierce mountain cats, and absolutely no sign of the legendary ‘Changeling Hordes’ that had apparently been awakening over the years. Even those Griffons who managed to climb the Wall were the smallest of threats, many too deprived of food, drink and sleep to put up a good fight.
Well, that was it. Time for Silver Shill to command his own life, instead of allowing charlatans or grumpy old ponies order him around for the remainder of his days.
He snapped out of his lull and marched along the slippery Crystal Wall. A thousand years worth of ice had set on every surface and covered every crevice of the Wall, thickening it to the point not even a hundred master armour smiths could reproduce.
A stone faced Lunar Guard peered at Shill as he approached the hot air balloon, the sole means of getting up or down the Wall. It was a ragged thing. The basket crunched at the hooves of those who climbed in and the original fabric of the balloon was now covered in patchwork, though, quite admirably, it stayed true to the colour of the Lunar Guard and remained as black as night.
Shill hopped into the transport and nodded at Rivet, whose hazel eyes never left him. Rivet joined him and guided the balloon downwards. A rough circle of stiff ropes stretched the height of the Wall, surrounding the balloon so it could never stray off course. Shill always hated when the balloon would volley off the ropes. The jolt would always send him sideways and leaning over the basket, leaving him staring at a long and bitter fall to his death.
This time they were fortunate as the winds were calm on their side of the Wall. This night was particularly dark as there was no moon to light their way, but Shill could still just make out the three courtyards of Castle Jet. The third soon disappeared from view however, as it laid on the outside of the castle wall.
It was the training ground the new recruits practised their sword work on. Beside it swayed a rickety barracks, the recruits’ inadequate housing where they could get barely any sleep due to the wide cracks that let in unbearable drafts during the night. The Master of Arms couldn’t care less, as long as they were awake on time for morning training.
The other two courtyards sat within the castle walls, right in the middle of the Castle, protected from the devastating winds that blew day in day out. The hot air balloon set itself down with little trouble just behind the courtyard, within throwing distance of the Blue Tunnel.
Rivet pushed open the basket door with a long creak, his eyes still fixed on Shill. Feeling the gaze he glanced back at the toffee coated Earth pony, but his nervous nature glistened through with a single drop of sweat sliding down his forehead. He forced a smile in thanks for the ride down and hurried on his way. Rivet grunted, knowing his manners were nothing more than a charade.
A few of the Lunar Guard went about their business within the broken walls of Castle Jet, though many had retired to their quarters for sleep or to the mess hall for food. Only a face could distinct one pony from another, for they all wore the same thick coats of black and hunched their shoulders against the cold as they walked.
Nopony stopped to greet Shill as he strode across the courtyard, and then momentarily crunched his hooves against the crisp road that stretched West to East along the interior of the castle. He approached the second courtyard, empty and clear and silent. He could bet the same couldn’t be said in the morning. All he would hear were the aggressive growls of reformed rapists and the shouts of pain from useless farmfoals until noon, when lunch was served.
To the left of the courtyard he found the Lord Commander’s building, an impending structure with two small towers on either side. He stomped up the creaky wooden stairs, making sure each hoof was planting to ensure he didn’t slip over. But such a worry was petty in his eyes.
His mind was set on one thing only: To find a way out of the Lunar Guard.
He knew the Lord Commander was ill. In fact, he had been for the last twenty years. But now his ailments and injuries had finally decided to punish him to their fullest extent, leaving him bedridden and lame. Therefore Shill hoped the Lord Commander would be dazed from Milk of the Poppy, a numbing, pain killing medicine that also caused the mind to wander and make decisions it wouldn’t otherwise make.
He ducked inside the walls of the Lord Commander’s quarters and shut the door silently behind him. Though the building was named for the Lord Commander there were a great many rooms where the officers such as the Master of Arms, First Ranger, First Builder and First Steward slept. He knew most of them rarely visited their rooms though, as there was always work to be done on the Wall, so he did not fear drifting into one of their rooms by mistake and waking them.
Shill rubbed back his cobalt mane, clearing off the small specks of snow while flattening it between his ears. He embraced the inside as if it were the musky, humid innards of a brothel. In reality the air was only slightly warmer on the inside, but to a pony fresh from atop the Crystal Wall it felt like heaven.
Nevertheless, Silver Shill could not be distracted now. The Lord Commander’s room was near, he knew. Just down the hall, then a left and up a few stairs. Here we go.
He crept along the wood floor as lightly as he could, careful not to allow a single loose plank to give away his position. He made it to the corner and peeked to see if the stairs were clear. The stairs awaited him three doors down, free from any obstacle. Or so he thought.
The door closest to him slid open. He knew he was caught. The distance from him to the door was too far a distance to make in time. Instead he stayed still and edged his back against the wall.
A pony’s hooves dragged out of the room, scraping along the floor with ever step. From the room emerged Maester Star, a blind old pony with a beard which tickled the ground beneath his long, white face. The Maester did not notice Silver Shill, to his relief. No, somehow the Maester sensed no presence as he shuffled by Silver Shill, his long black robe brushing against Shill’s stomach.
He remained in his spot until the Maester’s left the premises and the rotten wood door was closed once again. With a breath of relief he continued on, using only the tips of his hooves with each step.
Just as he reached the small flight of stairs a sudden breeze rushed through. The wind pushed open the third door along the hall, which was now right next to Shill, and revealed the Master at Arms, Caballeron, hugging his sword as he slept.
Shill took a gamble. It was a stupid gamble, but he took it anyway. He snuck up to the open door, sweating more than he had in the last two years out of pure fear of waking Caballeron. He was the most intimidating, cruel and heartless bastard to ever serve in the Lunar Guard. But Shill couldn’t risk him waking from the wind or light.
He reached into the room and recovered the swinging door. As he yanked it back against the wind a shiver ran up his spine. A movement darted by his flank, swishing his tail aside. He managed to squeeze shut Caballeron’s door and turn around before he let out a breathless scream, equal to the screech of boiling water.
He looked right. Nothing. He looked left. Still nothing, just the bare, bland stairs. Stop it now! Just get up those stairs and get this ordeal over with!
Silver Shill felt like an ant to an anthill as he looked up at the Lord Commander’s door. It was a hulking piece of wood, towering every other door in the castle. There was no gap above or beneath it to allow light or wind through, a change made recently by Maester Star. The Maester had specifically ordered that no breeze may pass over the Lord Commander’s sick body, so the builders of the Lunar Guard constructed a slightly larger door to fill in the frame.
Usually a Guard would need to force it open and shove as it dragged along the abrasive, scratchy, and unpolished wooden floor. This time however Shill found he did not need to use his strength, as the doorway was already half open.
He remained outside the room, looking in from the top step. A shadow flickered against the wall as the candlelight wobbled. He feared the Lord Commander was well enough to walk, meaning he may not have been drowsy from the Maester’s medicine.
With a huge gulp, the biggest he thought he’d ever taken, Silver Shill cautiously placed one hoof into the room. Before fully entering, he knocked twice.
There was no answer.
He knocked once more.
He heard a muffled cry.
Silver Shill burst into the room ready for action, but the sight he beheld caused all of his thoughts from the past hour to vanish. Thoughts of fear and darkness drowned his mind, for what Silver Shill witnessed was the spawn of nightmares. This time he did scream.
It was a monster blacker than dark itself, with wings as clear as glass. The creature drove a rusty blade into the Lord Commander with its contorted leg, full of holes like a piece of driftwood infested with termites. It punctured his chest over and over again without a slither of remorse, even as his blood spewed out and soaked its muzzle.
Shill could do nothing but shiver. This demon was beyond his reckoning. Never did he once think the legends told truths. But, as the monster finished its task and lifted its fanged face to meet the mortified eyes of Silver Shill, he knew more than just snow and Griffon’s lurked North of the Wall.
The Changelings were not a mere myth. Its frosty blue eyes made sure he would never forget it, even till his final breath.
It hissed at Shill with a forked tongue and jerked its blade from the Lord Commander’s corpse. It lumbered over to him, dragging its hooves through the pool of blood by the bed. Its blade dripped sticky red, with threads of blood dangling down and sticking to its front legs.
For a moment Shill wondered why the creature did not simply end him instead of giving him time to act. Perhaps Shill really did look like a coward, a pony that truly nopony could fear, just as he had always thought.
No. This is not my end. As a surge of adrenaline streamed through Silver Shill’s body and he mustered the bravery to draw his sword in defence.
Shill came to that very room to end his watch, not his life.
In an instant the monster was upon him. Shill swung his blade wildly and sliced into its side, and couldn’t help but grin at his success. However, he soon realised that the swing had left his neck bare, making it the perfect target for the Changeling. All it needed to do was bring down its dagger and cut into his throat.
He shut his eyes, not wishing to see it coming.
For once, Shill found himself fortunate. His eyes peeked open to see the webbed tail of the creature leaving the room. He heard shouts from outside. Somepony called after the creature. The next thing he knew Star Hunter, a deep blue pony and one of his few friends, was lifting him from the ground.
“Silver Shill!” Star Hunter shouted in a panic, probably torn between tending his friend or the Lord Commander. “Silver Shill!” He said a second time, this time shaking the broken Earth pony out of his daze. Silver Shill’s eyes met Star Hunter’s. All Hunter could see was horror. “What was it?”
Silver Shill trembled with each breath. “Ch-Changeling.”
Suddenly another Lunar Guard stomped into the room. His coat was a mix of grey and brown, and his black mane was slicked back in a style far better than Shill’s, however hid older age shone through with splatters of grey lining his tail. He looked to the body of the Lord Commander with wide eyes. He rubbed his thick stubble and stared at Silver Shill, who recognised him. It was the Master at Arms.
“What did this, boy?” Caballeron said with a deep tone, almost grunting. When Silver Shill could not bring himself to answer he grasped the cuff of his coat with force. “I heard you scream, Shit Shill, and we don’t scream at Griffons. Now answer me! What did this?”
Silver Shill cowered away from him but thankfully found his breath. “Changeling,” he said, quickly and bluntly.
Star Hunter stepped forward in an effort to lessen the attention on Shill. “Caballeron, sir, maybe I should ride south to inform the lord of House Rock of this news?” He was a well spoken stallion, tutored by his father from a young age; before he was caught stealing.
Caballaron considered this option. The ponies waiting outside told him a strange being fled the room moments before their arrival, so Shill’s Changeling explanation could be true. But at the same time Changelings had not been seen for hundreds of years. If they were returning, he was sure he’d be the first to know.
“No, Star Hunter, you stay and help clean up this mess,” he ordered. Star Hunter sighed under his breath, but got straight on with it. Meanwhile Caballeron jabbed Shill in the chest to gain his attention. “Listen closely, boy. Only you saw what happened, so you gallop south to Winterneigh as fast as your skinny grey legs will take you and tell Lord Igneous Rock exactly what you saw. Do you hear me? Exactly.”
Shill nodded his head for a good ten seconds before following Caballeron’s commands. He bolted out of Castle Jet and into the cold night. The snow picked up as he galloped, sticking into his eyes and nose and mane.
It took him a few miles, but he soon realised he had been let free from the claws of the Lunar Guard. Somehow, his ambition had been fulfilled, all because of a Changeling!
He could go where he wished!
“Damn it!” cried out a young creature as his arrow flew straight over his target. Sadly it was only his lack of skill to blame.
The wind hardly touched him within the walls of Winterneigh, so he couldn’t blame that, though he had felt it gradually increase in strength as the morning drew on. The scattered oak trees which sprouted from the barren landscape surrounding Winterneigh rustled as the North winds blew.
But in the courtyard of the North’s capital, the children of House Rock worried not about the cold. At least, not as much as the regular, everyday pony; the cold gales still made it passed Winterneigh’s thick, seemingly impenetrable stone walls. There was no chance of it getting through, only up and over; and even doing that was a feat in itself. However, the wind always found a way.
Even then, in the outer courtyard, many ponies went about their business while wrapped up in drapes. Those who tended their stalls not a short sprint from the castle shivered when nopony looked; fewer even halted to view Stone Edge’s humourous display of failing to hit his mark.
Stone Edge shook his head at his misfortune. A few droplets of sweat slid down his scaled face. He was indeed an odd sight. There was once a time when the ponies of Winterneigh fled upon laying eyes on him. Beneath his brown fur overcoat was not a pelt, rather it was a coat of black scales. A hairless tail sprouted from his flank, it, too, was scaled but for a lock of brown hair at its tip. He was a Kirin; half pony and half dragon.
But now, after twenty one years, they had grown used to him. He nocked another arrow, its feathers painted purple and silver to match his oddly coloured eyes. Holding his bow with his claws he drew back and let out a long, calm breath. Just before he could release the arrow, however, a harsh wind toppled over Winterneigh’s walls, carrying with it red and yellow leaves that decorated the courtyard. It fluttered his dark mane, sending waves of his unkempt tuft across his bow arm.
With another deep breath he stayed his claw and waited for the wind to calm. His arm shook under the stress, but the wind did not cease. More sweat broke from his forehead, forcing him to shut his eyes, and then—whoosh!
He blinked his eyes dry and found himself without an arrow. Immediately his gaze was drawn to his target, and, to his disbelief, an arrow had struck bullseye.
Joy overtook him.
“Praise the Dark!” he called out by mistake. Straight away Stone Edge sensed a number of faces peering at him. His ears twitched as he caught them muttering prayers to Luna, asking for her grace. Stone thought back to his father’s advice on the matter. ‘Luna is our Lord, and Princess. She and Celestia are the highest in the land. To speak of Dark as a separation from her is to claim a higher power exists in this land, which is folly.’
“Those books are just fairytales,” Stone said in a whiny tone, “you can’t treat them like fact. Well Father, why don’t you—” He stopped as soon as he realised he was thinking outloud. A faint blush coloured his cheeks and he cleared his throat, hoping nopony heard his misdemeanour.
Shaking off that rocky moment, he looked once again upon his achievement with a goofy grin. However, he narrowed his eyes as he saw something odd about his arrow. Upon closer inspection he realised the feathers were coloured pink, not purple and silver. His eyes went wide and a hard frown tugged at his lips.
“Pinkie!” he snapped in frustration. He didn't need to look behind him to know that she was right there, probably grinning maniacally. He turned around anyway, his nostrils angrily puffing steam in the chilly air, and came snout to muzzle with the mare herself.
If it were any other pony, he would expect her to be standing normally behind Stone Edge. Not Pinkie. Rather she was upside down, using her puffy pink mane to hold up the rest of her body. She was balanced perfectly, as still as a rock. Stone Edge disregarded her feat and stared at her. She played with him, refusing to break out of her concentration face. Instead, her tongue remained stuck out and her eyes pinned on the target.
“I’m trying to practice,” he said with a stern posture. “How am I supposed to become skilled at archery if you keep making a fool out of me?”
Too annoyed to bother waiting for her answer, Stone turned back and tried to spot where his arrow had landed. He scanned around the courtyard, his eyes darting from Winterneigh castle to the—
“It’s on Chalcey’s stall,” Pinkie pointed out before he could, adding a giggle. Stone’s blood ran cold. Chalcey was not a stallion to mess around. With hindlegs the size of logs, he could give you a buck and a half if you misbehaved.
Stone tried to see where exactly the arrow had landed and hoped to the God of Dark that Chalcey hadn’t noticed. It had pierced his price board, between the number ‘0’. To make matters worse, it had also struck an apple and now the juices dribbled down the wooden plank.
Oh Gods, save me.
Finally breaking his moody persona, Stone Edge cracked a smirk and bolted, Pinkie closely following behind. They ducked around the other side of Winterneigh Castle, passing two huge circular towers before Stone finally deemed it safe to stop. Pinkie hadn’t seen him halt, however, and she ran straight into the back of him, sending them both tumbling over in laughter. Pinkie snorted in hysteria, while Stone Edge blew smoke with each laugh.
“I wish we could have seen his face,” Stone Edge remarked as he wiped a tear from his eye. “It’d be worth every whip and crack that mean old crank would give!”
They sat close by to Winterneigh’s back gate, on the north side of town. The stone there was as shiny as it was grey, as if an everlasting layer of rain was splattered upon it. The guards looked curiously at the pair, wondering what they had gotten up to. Pinkie was known for her pranks, and all too often had she dragged Stone Edge into them.
Once the duo were finished giggling Pinkie jumped onto her hooves and poked her head around the corner. “Coast is clear,” she said with a wave of her hoof before rejoining her sibling. Unlike Stone Edge, Pinkie wore no clothing.
Her pink coat was bare, showing off her colourful cutie mark of three balloons. She only ever wore her bow and quiver, both of which had many fine carvings of balloons crafted deep into them.
Stone Edge sat back against the Castle wall and crossed his arms, all while watching Pinkie walk by, still giggling to herself. “You know, I’m still mad at you,” he said, though this time he was smiling.
“Don’t be so moody-woody, big brother,” she said back playfully, “you can’t be the best at everything.” Stone Edge rolled his eyes; this wasn’t the first time he had heard this. “You’re, like, the bestest swordspony ever!”
“What good’s a sword at long distance?” he said grouchily, dismissing the words he had heard countless times. “I’ve never even been in a real fight.”
Pinkie Pie wrapped her hooves around his neck. “I hope you never have to be. I hope you get married to some fancy-pants mare and spend the rest of your life in a huge castle with colourful banners!”
“I’ll make sure to call on you for that,” he said with a half-hearted chuckle, squeezing her back. “Hey look.”
They both stopped their conversation as they noticed Lord Hamon Rye of House Arkose exit the back gate, nodding kindly at the guards as he passed on through. Two bannerponies holding flags of Windigos stood either side of him, keeping their distance; Hamon Rye had quite the girth.
Pinkie and Stone shared a look of interest. “I wonder what he was here for,” Stone Edge said, scratching his chin. “Maybe there’s news from further north?”
Between Winterneigh and the Wall, House Arkose ruled the largest settlement, Glacerhold, though it was still half the size of Winterneigh. Arkoses were often referred to as ‘The Eyes of Winter’, and were constantly belittled by other Houses for the prophecies they spoke and warnings they threw upon any ears who listen.
“Huh, I always liked the Arkose family,” Pinkie noted, “they’re the only ones who take Winter seriously.”
Stone Edge gave her an odd look, unsure of what she meant. “I’m very sure everypony in The North takes winter seriously, Pinkie. It’s what kills most ponies.”
“No, silly, I mean real winter. Like, the one when the Wall—” Suddenly a strange noise overlapped her words, and her whole body shivered violently. Stone Edge watched as her light blue eyes rolled into the back of her head for a second, something he had never seen happen before. She sounded excited, though once she was still again her eyes revealed only sadness.
At first she didn’t speak. Stone poked her in her side, but she only rocked silently back and forth. “What did you sense this time?” He asked with concern, pushing her once again. Damned Pinkie Sense, it could be anything! “Pinkie?”
“I know why Hamon Rye was here,” she said quietly, “somepony ran away from the Wall,”
That’s all Stone needed to hear. The Lunar Guard always caught their deserters, no matter how long it took. And if the Lunar Guard couldn’t catch them, House Arkose surely would. Then it was nothing more than a swing of a blade to solve the problem.
“I suppose that’ll mean Father will be sending for us soon, then?” Stone Edge noted rather casually. “He prefers to… do it himself, after all.” In the face of Pinkie, or any of his sisters, he prefered not to talk about dark matters.
But seemingly Pinkie was always one to pick up on these things. Sometimes she’d sense a happiness soon to come, perhaps a filly’s birthday, one who lives in a rugged shack not a fifteen minute gallop from Winterneigh; sometimes their mother would surprise the sisters with a new dress for each of them, imported from the Gold Lands lying just West of the North. Sadly Pinkie found it hard to be too surprised, after all, she could predict the kindness. Despite this, excitement never failed to bubble up from within her.
That day, however, no dresses or parties were to be. She let out an extended sigh, her whole chest deflating with it. “I almost forgot it was dad’s job to… do it,” she said. “Nopony’s deserted in so long.”
Stone Edge placed his arm around her. His belly shook and rumbled out of hunger, and finally he found his solution. Saddened as Pinkie could be, if there was one thing that could make her feel better, it was food. Namely, sugar-coated sweets and gingerbread.
“Hey,” he said with a cheeky grin, “you want to see what treats we can snatch from the kitchen?”
The thought of what sweets Nana Pie was coating in sugar and syrup immediately fuelled the bubbles that powered Pinkie Pie. She sprung from the ground like a cricket and landed on all fours with a face of determination. “Let’s do this.”
“First one there gets the gingerbread!” Stone Edge shouted before giving Pinkie’s flank a whip with his tail and bolting off, leaving her in the dust.
“Hey, cheater!” she yelled after him. They raced back into the courtyard, sticking close to the wall and averting their eyes from Chalcey Pony, hoping he wouldn’t spot them. Pinkie had gained admirably on Stone Edge once they reached the castle gates; she was but a length off him.
The guards, wearing thick fur coats over their leather cuirasses, stepped aside to allow them passage into the Castle’s courtyard, a smaller and cleaner version of the archery yard outside. The only blemish to be seen was a pool of mud sat in the centre of the courtyard.
As much as she tried Pinkie couldn’t overtake Stone Edge, so with a cunning smile she pushed his flank, right where his fire stone cutie mark laid, and sent him tumbling over into the pool of mud. Snickering, Pinkie jumped over his flailing body, however she didn’t get far after that. Her mother, Cloudy Quartz, blocked the steps up to the kitchen.
Cloudy Quartz owned a sour, light grey face. She made it no fairer by tying her dark grey mane back in a bob so that she looked like an evil nanny coming to slap naughty fillies and colts. At least, that was what Stone Edge had grown up thinking she was like.
She glared at Stone Edge, though he was too busy sliding around the mud trying to stand up to notice her. Pinkie on the other hand sunk down, knowing what was coming. She loved her mother, but she also loved her half-brother, and they hated each other.
Cloudy Quartz leaned in to make sure Stone Edge could not hear her. “What are you doing playing around with him?” she asked, giving plenty of repulsion with the word ‘him’.
“We were just going to the kitchen for some snacks,” Pinkie answered innocently enough. “You want one?” she added, trying to lighten up her mother.
“No, Pinkamena, I would not like a snack,” she answered with distaste. She was a remarkably well spoken for a mare of the North.
Stone Edge finally found his feet and joined Pinkie on the steps. He tried his hardest not to look her in the eye. “Afternoon, my lady,” he said with as little enthusiasm as possibly.
Cloudy Quartz disregarded is presence. “Stop this messing around, Pinkamena. You must make yourself more graceful if you hope to marry soon.”
“Well, I don’t really wanna marry,” she began, “but at the same time it does sound exciting!” Stone Edge watched in awe as she pulled off a backflip, her pink hooves inching off Cloudy Quartz’s nose. “Imagine the wedding party we could throw! There would be so many colours, oooh especially red! The colour of love!” She made herself swoon to the thought. “And all the ponies... And the music!”
“You’re the only pony I know who enjoys weddings, sis.” Stone said, emphasising ‘sis’ and throwing a dirty look at Cloudy.
“Once you get married I’m gonna make sure it’s the greatest celebration the Ten Kingdom’s will ever see!” Pinkie gushed out, flipping over Stone Edge.
Me? Marry? It’d be an early winter before I get tied down to a mare!
Cloudy Quartz’s eyes darted between the two. She snuffs her nose at Stone Edge. “I doubt he will marry,” she said, as if he wasn’t there, “the Crystal Wall is a fitting place for a bastards, not the halls of a lord’s daughter. Especially a bastard so…”
“So what? Monstrous? Full of Evil?” Pinkie’s ears dropped as Stone struck back. She could never pick a side.
“How are we to know? Regardless, your father wishes to see you both. He waits his study. It is urgent, he says.”
“Right away, my lady.” Stone Edge pulled Pinkie with him as he lowered his head and hurried by Cloudy Quartz. Pinkie smiled brightly at her mother before she was practically carried down the hall by her brother.
They passed the kitchen, the scent of fresh cakes leaking from the doorway. Stone Edge slowed for a moment, wondering whether they should still indulge in a treat or two. With a sigh he pushed on, wishing not to keep his father waiting. He may have been a bastard, but that didn’t mean he had to disappoint those around him more than necessary, especially for something as trivial as being late. Pinkie also plodded on beside him, but he could see her constantly looking back, desperate for even the tiniest crumb of ginger.
“Go on then,” Stone said with a grin, “I’ll wait here for you.”
She wrapped her hooves around him with a big “yay!” and went straight for the kitchen. For the short while he was alone he thought about what his mother had said. Truly he hoped to follow in his father’s steps, but how could a bastard match a noble lord?
At every turn his mother mentioned sending him off to the Lunar Guard, not because it was ‘honourable’, as his father constantly tried to stress, but because she simply wanted him out of the picture, completely.
He wasn’t wholly against joining the Lunar Guard. After all, many bastards joined. It was an unofficial rite of passage, in a way. You weren’t a true bastard until you joined. But to leave Winterneigh, to abandon Pinkie to whatever marriage their mother had mustered behind everypony’s back? He wasn’t sure he could do that. Either way, he wouldn’t have a choice in the matter.
So is life. Why can’t I get tied down with a wife, or my own castle? Hell, why can’t I have a simple dream come true, like growing a beard as many stallions do? Surely bastards aren’t restricted to hairless chins too?
“Mmph!” From nowhere a pink hoof planted a mouthful of gingerbread into his mouth.
“Found some!” Pinkie sang, before stuffing her cheeks with an assortment of cakes and fruit tarts. She now led the way to Igneous’ quarters, hopping down the barren stone corridors with Stone Edge struggling to keep up.
The door to their father’s chambers was like any other. Bland, brown, and bolted with iron. The only difference was that it was bigger. Two guards stood either side, dressed in light armour and wielding thick round metal shields, upon each carved a Timberwolf’s head biting an unbreaking rock. Both guards bowed their heads as they approached.
The heavy iron door opened and out came Lord Beel of House Grit, a formidably innerving stallion. His mane flowed like black silk, covering his face as he passed by the two without a word. Stone Edge tried to catch a sight of his face but saw only a flash of yellow eyes.
“Creepy,” said Pinkie once Beel was out of earshot.
Stone smirked and followed her through into their father’s room. It was more of a study, really. Bookcases overflowed with trinkets and old books, many of which Stone had borrowed on occasion, some taken with his father’s consent while other, rarer pieces of literature were stuffed beneath his overcoat.
The floor was soft and warm with splayed animal furs, taken of course from those animals which were sadly committed to early deaths. Only when the winter was fierce, and hope was little, did the ponies of Equestria devour meat.
To the right a roaring fire crackled within a dark stone mantelpiece, warming Igneous Rock’s seat while he was away from his desk. Stone Edge couldn’t help but glance over to the desk and spotted his father’s signature beneath a terribly written letter.
“Dealings with House Grit,” Stone heard his father say. He froze, knowing he was caught snooping, but this time his father was more open. “Lord Beel wishes for more control over the southwest,” Igneous continued, his voice low with a hint of regret. “He wants to dictate the comings and goings of anypony crossing the border between Big Apple Mountains and The Cantering Hills. I believe ‘more independency’ were the words used to describe this transition.”
Stone Edge still couldn’t understand what reason there would be for giving House Grit more power. “But why? They have always seen us as rivals, rather than their Lords. They are the second richest House in the North, father, they—”
“Do not lecture me on what I taught you,” snapped Igneous. “You don’t know nearly as much as you think beyond petty rivalries between children. Just because you were beaten in combat practice once or twice does not mean you can demean them. If you must know, they have aided greatly in preparing an arrangement that will come to fruition soon, so do not share your ill will with them.”
Completely ignoring her father’s graven tone, Pinkie burst by Stone to give him a hug. “Hey, Dad!” she said in what Stone saw as an attempt to reset the conversation. Igneous returned a hug of his own, as well as cracking a smile.
“But that sort of business can wait,” he said with a wink to Stone, “till tomorrow, anyway. Turns out we’ll have a guest among us during the beheading.”
Pinkie’s hooves brushed along the silver pelt as she dragged them back to her brother’s side. “So there is a deserter,” Pinkie sighed.
Stone was not nearly as saddened by the news. He found no joy in the event, but he knew that such an act was vital in retaining law and order. “And who is this guest, Father?” he asked.
“The son of Lord Beel,” he said. The words came out neither easy nor glad as there was many a rumour surrounding that young stallion. “That ‘Shade’ boy.”
Stone Edge growled, despising the news. Shade was the one who outmatched him during sword practice a number of times. “More House Grit to poison the air they breathe.”
“Good afternoon,” a bland voice greeted from the door. All three ponies turned to see Maud Pie, Igneous’ eldest, enter his study, followed closely by the twins Marble Pie and Limestone Pie. “I hope we aren’t interrupting.” Every word she spoke lacked any sort of enthusiasm. Instead it was as dull as the look on her face.
“No, come in,” Igneous said. As they lined up he paced back and forth. “You’ll all be joining me tomorrow for the beheading,” he said bluntly, “and you will all watch, understood?” Everypony looked around at each other in shock. “I will not allow my heirs to squirm at tradition. So Maud, Stone, I want you both to make sure Marble and Limestone do not look away.”
Stone Edge scratched his head in wonder at his father’s behaviour.
What an odd command. Why is he stressing this so much? Sooner or later they will watch; are they really ready now?
“Do you understand?” Igneous repeated.
“Yes, Father,” said both Maud and Stone at once.
“We set out early tomorrow. Do not be late.”
For the rest of the night Stone Edge pondered why his father had given the order, however he could come to no conclusion.
The powerful wind sailed between two jagged rocks, playing a whistle with each gust that passed through the tight formation. A patch of moss glistened with what dim light shone. Little trapped droplets of rain were tucked beneath the colourful green fur.
The day had cleared since Stone Edge and company had left Winterfell. The fresh scent of moist soil was heavy in the air, but the mist was nowhere to be seen. What’s more, a greater light began to shine upon the droplets. The sun had revealed its mighty self to the North, a happening akin to a miracle for many ponies, splitting apart the dull cloudline into scattered puffs of grey. The reflection of its flare bounced upon ever droplet, as if a thousand or more suns were imprisoned within the northern drizzle.
“Isn’t this exciting?” Shade asked quietly, standing between Pinkie and Stone Edge. The party stood not a ten metres from the rock formation, gathered around a small chunk of toppled tree. “I’ve not been to many beheadings,” he continued with a strange grin, “they aren’t really my thing; too quick.” His last words were drawn out and ruthless.
Twisted and ruthless, just like his soul.
Stone Edge showed a look of concern to Pinkie, but she beckoned back with a large smile, showing her pristine teeth. Well, pristine apart from the crumb of gingerbread in the gap of her front teeth.
She’s probably blocked him out. What a gift to have…
“One day I’ll catch somepony on the road,”Shade said, leaning in more towards Stone Edge. “It’ll be a mare, I reckon. Not seen one of those flee from Castle Jet in a long while, after all, so I think it’s about time.” Stone Edge pleaded to Luna to stop Shade’s ramblings, knowing it would insult House Grit if he were to simply say ‘shut up’. “I hope so, anyway,” Shade said after a short pause.
Stone Edge growled in discomfort, stepping away from the stench of Shade’s breath. “You hope to kill somepony?” he spat, staring sharply into Shade’s eyes.
The dark grey stallion cackled as he drew his gaze forward, away from Stone Edge and at the Chopping Block. “No, Stoney. Not kill,” he said as if it were obvious. “I’ll keep her, forever and ever and ever.” It was all a fairytale in Shade’s mind, a brutal nightmare of a fairytale.
Now Stone truly believed that some of the dark rumours about House Grit were true, even if he didn’t. At least, he knew now that Shade’s head was not bolted on properly. It shook his bones to think about it.
But the other rumours… No, surely not. Lord Beel is a good stallion, though intimidating. He wouldn’t let Shade commit acts of… Damn it, Stone, get yourself together.
Before he could picture any more of Shade’s villainous acts, his attention was drawn to the deserter being dragged forward and thrust in front of the Chopping Block. The traitor cowered before Igneous, who stood taller than most; the breeze swayed his grey sideburns, that rested like hooked blades along his cheeks.
There was no pity in Igneous’ bright eyes, only disappointment. The Lunar Guard knew what they were getting into when they took the oath. To break it was to break the trust of Luna, the trust of the North, and that included Igneous too.
Silver Shill was ragged enough while still a member of the Lunar Guard, so his change in appearance was little. His eyes were bloodshot, his nose crusted over after days of endless galloping. No longer was his hair slick back, now it was intertwined with twigs and leaves and greasier than a cook’s cauldron.
“He looks terrible,” whispered Marble Pie to her twin sister.
“Well, he is a deserter,” Limestone Pie replied, holding her hoof up to cover her mouth.
It was no use, however, for Maud stood just behind them. She tapped them both on the flank and hushed them. Then her seemingly lifeless eyes returned to the spectacle presented before them all.
The Rocks watched as Lord Hamon Rye emerged from a small gathering of his bannerponies, bumping by them, still uncaring of his size. Stone Edge had before wondered why guards of House Arkose had gathered here, but now it was clear. A fair few had come, too, enough to form a decent patrol.
Scanning around he spotted the flags of three Houses; Rock, Arkose and Grit. Only two of Shade’s guards were present, though. And only one was really useful, seeing as how the other held a huge red flag with the ugly symbol of a black fly upon it. It seemed Shade thought he was invincible.
Cocky bastard.
Like Igneous, Hamon Rye had plenty of hair upon his face. In fact, he had more. His ageing white mane curled down his face, under his chin, and back up the other side. There was a certain softness to the oversized pony, even if each step he took left a shallow crater in the ground.
“This one’s been caught deserting, Lord Rock,” he said with a deep, grumbling tone.
It was a custom to call the highest lord of the land by the name of their House. Even if Pinkie Pie was one day Lord, or in her case, Lady of House Rock, those who greeted her would speak the title ‘Lady Rock’. It was a tradition held throughout the Ten Kingdoms; over the sea, however, things were quite different. More equal, one might say.
“For how long have you fled from your brothers and sisters?” Igneous asked coldly. Silver Shill shivered in the shadow of Igneous. He remained silent, but for the scattered breaths seeping from his dry mouth. Igneous instead looked to Hamon Rye for an answer.
“A week,” he said. “My patrol reports he was meant as a messenger to you, my lord.” Hamon eyed Silver Shill with disgust. “He was supposed to deliver to you a message of great importance, I was told.”
Igneous raised an eyebrow in interest. “Truly? I am surprised no raven has been sent. When did you learn of this?”
“Only after I left Winterneigh yesterday, Lord Rock,” he answered with a bow. Igneous and Hamon had been friends for many years, but respect was forever shown. As Hamon thought about the message his face darkened, and his light grey cheeks seemed to droop. “It’s a matter most grave, my lord.”
“Out with it, then,” Igneous ordered, more harshly than intended. Stone Edge noticed Silver Shill’s gaze rising to meet Hamon as the message was finally delivered.
“The Lord Commander of the Lunar Guard has been slain,” he said solemnly with a bowed head.
Meanwhile Shade huffed in impatience. “I wish they’d get on with it,” he groaned under his breath, but not quietly enough for Stone Edge to miss. So tempted was he to bark out at Shade, teach him some manners or at least shut him up.
Maybe later, when Father is not present.
“This is troubling news,” Igneous said. He turned to Silver Shill with a hard frown on his bronze face. “Yet you, even when all is dire, chose to flee. A true coward lies before my hooves today.”
“I saw what killed him,” Silver Shill whispered with a cracked voice, “I saw the face of terror itself.”
Igneous thought nothing of his empty words, yet something was in his eyes that he could recognise fully; true fear. “Years of war during the second dragon rebellion have taught me what terror is, but neither I nor my brothers in arms fled the black, burnt field of battle.”
“You can kill a dragon, because they can bleed. You can kill a griffon, for they bleed too. How do you kill something that does not? My lord, I saw a Changeling.”
Every pony present glanced at one another, unsure of what to make of the news. Igneous and Hamon Rye stared at one another the longest, contemplating the reliability of a dead pony’s words.
At last, Igneous nodded and drew his sword, named Ursa, after Princess Luna’s favourite constellation. It was a large blade that glimmered like candlelight in the sun’s shine. The hilt was melded in the shape of a pickaxe, matching his own cutie mark, while the blade was tall and wide, wider so than Silver Shill’s neck. Silver himself gulped what remained of any moisture in his mouth.
“Do you have family?” Igneous said, planting the blade into the ground.
Silver Shill’s eyes dropped in sadness. “No.”
“You understand that your body will be taken to Castle Jet, and buried in an unmarked grave?”
The deserter had not known this detail, but it made no difference to him. With a sigh he met the gaze of Igneous. “Yes.”
Hamon Rye strode forward and positioned Silver Shill’s head onto the Chopping Block. The wood was hard and cold against his face, as well as rough from deep set ice.
Igneous moved over and stood beside him, still holding Ursa down against the soil, and spoke the words traditional to executions of this kind.
“We perform this act to protect our land. In the name of Princess Luna, of King Dusk Shine, first of his name, Lord of the Ten Kingdoms, I sentence this pony to die for the safety, and justice, of a thousand sons of the North.”
In one swift movement Igneous lifted the blade, swung it forth and cleanly sliced off Silver Shill’s head.
Not one of Igneous’ children failed to watch the action. They were tough, perhaps the toughest children in Equestria. They just turned and began the long walk home; there was nothing more to see.
“Too clean for my taste,” Stone Edge heard Shade comment in disappointment to one of his guards. As soon as the stroke fell Stone retreated from the presence of Shade; almost heaving Pinkie along with him. He couldn’t bear another second with the foul mouthed fool.
“Thank Luna that’s over,” Stone said to Pinkie, who seemed all too joyful. “You alright, Pinkie?”
“Yeppidy do!” she said, hopping along beside him. Stone Edge’s attention was caught on Igneous, who spoke to Maud quietly and closely so no other could intrude. He found Maud to be staring at him while they muttered to one another.
“How… come?” he said inattentively, slowly but surely trying to return his attention to Pinkie. In an instant he found he didn’t have to try for Pinkie had leapt into his view, her sparkling sky blue eyes wide open with excitement.
“Because that dessert pony totally saw a Changeling!”
Stone Edge smirked. “Pinkie, you know full well he was a ‘deserter’,” he said.
“How do you know he wasn’t made up of lemon cakes and cream?” she answered back with an accusing hoof, though she soon shook herself out of her silliness. “That’s not the point. The point is that he so said Changelings killed the Sir Commander Lord! And did he look like he was lying? Well, did he?”
“Pinkie, I think you’re the only one out of us that continues to take Nana Pie’s bedtime stories seriously.” Suddenly three ponies bolted by them, almost knocking Stone Edge off his feet. He saw the flag of House Grit fluttering as they galloped, leaving a foul taste in Stone’s mouth. “Bastard,” he mumbled.
“Stone Edge!” Igneous called out as he jogged up to his bastard son, “I need to speak with you.”
Stone and Igneous looked to Pinkie, who smiled. “Okie-dokie-lokie,” she said as she skipped away to join Maud, Limestone and Marble.
“What is it, Father?” They continued on through the lush grass a while before Igneous answered. He was thinking. Stone could tell as his eyes were flickering back and forth, something he knew had passed onto Pinkie.
“It is news I would have shared with you yesterday,” he said, hesitating to speak, “but I would rather speak to you in private. It is common for a bastard son to travel north, to the Wall, and join the Lunar Guard. And since you are my bastard son, I have heard many say this would be the right course for you.”
Stone Edge sighed, knowing his father simply wanted to break the news gently.
“Not if I can help it,” Igneous said calmly, much to Stone’s surprise. Igneous leaned in to speak quietly with Stone Edge, just like he had with Maud. “There’s a good chance you will be my legitimate son, soon enough.”
Stone Edge couldn’t believe his scaled ears. He couldn’t find the words to reply with, luckily too for Igneous had not finished.
“A plan has been made for the daughter of Lord Tempus to marry you, should I legitimise you,” Igneous said with a smile cracking upon his jaw.
Stone Edge recalled his study of the Houses, and remembered that House Tempus were a very powerful family. “Lord Tempus is the King’s brother, is he not?”
“Aye, though Night Light’s relation to King Dusk Shine is of little use now; ever since the King renounced his armies and decreed that he would take part in no war he has hidden away in Canterlot,” he said, deflated.
Stone Edge knew the King, Night Light and Igneous were once close friends, so his father’s sudden sadness didn’t surprise him.
“But this agreement is not about the King,” Igneous continued, “it is about you and Lady Twilight. This marriage will secure the North and the Maneland as allies, and help Celestia to unite the Ten Kingdoms once more.”
Something had told Stone Edge that this plan was not created by Igneous to make his bastard son happy. No, this was much bigger and grander in scale. If this deal succeeded, the Maneland and the Heartland, as well as Canterlot, who were all already good allies, would unite with the North. After that, the other kingdoms would have a hard time resisting the inevitable induction into one rule, once again uniting Equestria.
Yet, Stone Edge could not help but be disappointed. He wished this whole scheme was just for him, but he had been naive to think so.
“I would be glad to marry Twilight Sparkle, Father,” he said with confidence, hoping to make his father proud.
“This must happen swiftly, though. Do you understand?” Igneous said, suddenly speaking far more quickly. “Only when Lady Twilight arrives in Winterneigh will I make you legitimate. If in the coming weeks she does not arrive, I will be forced to ask you to join the Lunar Guard.”
Stone Edge halted and scowled at Igneous. “Forced? Forced by whom?” Who would eagerly force him to join the Lunar Guard? For he knew his father was not the culprit.
Igneous cleared his throat and picked at the ground. Stone Edge dismissed his uncomfortable stature and urged his father to answer with a pound of his claw on the dirt. Igneous looked around to make sure nopony was close by.
Stone could feel his blood boil as he had seen Igneous this way before. It was always when a certain mare wanted her way; he would relay her demands with a fickle nervousness that would be seen by nopony but him, his sisters and…
“Your mother,” he finally said.
That bitch is not my mother.
Author's Note
Huge thank you to Vexy (http://www.fimfiction.net/user/Vexy) for proofreading and improving! Enjoy!
