It is year 5 since 'the event'. Life is happy enough here, in the heartland. We keep communications with the other races through the caravans, and we are content to stay within our towns and hamlets.
Calling it 'the event' is as general as one can be, in my opinion. Nopony's decided on an official name yet, but for the most part people are content with 'The Corruption'. Still rather general, though the historian's current proposal- 'The Undoing of Equestria'- is a bit of a mouthful. The Corruption, in any case, did pretty much that, however- it undid Equestria as we know it. Or knew it. It's hardly recognizable from the air, they say. I don't know myself, I didn't get wings. Some did though, and we have names for them. For all the corrupt mutants. Some dislike being called corrupt, but it is what is. I don't mind it, personally.
I am Cactus Kutawala. Some people laugh, seeing my name written, but it's pronounced very differently from the plant. They like to make jokes that I'm 'prickly'. That's fine. People need the jokes nowadays. My last name is more interesting. Kutawala, for those not of my race, means Webchew. I don't know why I have it, but I think it's nice. As for my race... Well, I am a zebra. Was a zebra. Now I'm known as the subrace 'Abada'. The Corruption tainted many of us in very specific ways, and in the Abada's case, we have horns. Unfortunately, they don't do much. There are other subraces, of course. The Ibis zebras, with beautiful wings. Some dislike it, zebras with wings. I think its great. It at least puts us on equal ground with the pegasi.
Another race... The Karkadanns. Horns out of their muzzles. Not so great. They're great at farming though. Very knowledgeable. Then there's what's known as Anthros. Twisted into a biped form. Poor things. They didn't get so lucky. Lots of them too. They walk awkwardly and are almost twice as tall as everyone. There's a lot of them too, unfortunately. They don't have any special skills, so they're used as cheap labor. Luckily, that also means they're not bad at anything either.
Lastly, the Royals. They lucked out unbelievably. Towering stature, two magic horns, and wings. Basically, slightly deformed zebra alicorns. Every single one I've met has dabbled in most areas of work, and they are incredibly humble in their nature. They seem to recognize they got lucky, and don't go bragging about it. Hard to brag about being turned into another being.
We didn't all get corrupted. There's still plenty of regular, everyday zebras around. They seem fine. Some of them are a little bit... snobbish about being 'orginal zebras', but mostly everypony recognizes that we all need to work together, so there's very little racism.
The event split the original races too. We zebras now reside far from the rest. The crystal ponies retreated from their empire, and brought what little knowledge of crystal building with them to Gloss Stand, their new home. The ponies have rebuilt the surrounding area of Canterlot into Saturnine Fragrance. Pretentious name. A new race was discovered, the cave ponies, now emerging after long years of oblivion, forced out into the sun again at the Peak of Puzzling by the terrors that now lurk. Another race, created. The rainbow ponies. Turned into a sickening display of colors, they decided to form a new city-state, Skinny Lark.
Of course, evil is now unleashed. Without the Two Sisters or the Elements of Harmony, Equestria plunged into chaos. From that, evil things have arisen. The Diomedians, ponies twisted into evil, kidnapping and killing. The Crows, too. Ponies twisted into a crow's shape. Awful things. They terrorize us all.
As for the world... The creatures we once knew are no longer. They have become large, hulking monstrosities. They have grown armor, or sharp blades, or any number of deadly implements. The world of Equestria is harsh now. Survival is no longer a guarantee; rather, it is now a part of our lives.
That is why we, the Zebras of Kufagia, have decided to start the first outpost, to try and tame the wilds again. To conquer Equestria, not by malice, not for hate. But to return to our lives that we had before. The lives we enjoyed, only better. We are not going to succumb to the Corruption. We will do what we do best; work together and overcome. We survived many things in my lifetime. I hope that you will not have to survive.
Let this be a record of history! Tomorrow I leave, the leader in the expedition. We are the Rights of Truth. We go to the volcano, Tundra-ash. All seven of us will found Wasioaminikanguvu, DashedOwl, for the betterment of Equestria. We will conquer the land. And we will finally, dearly, be able to rest...
I hope.
click
I stared into the eyes of the being before me. There was no hint of malice in them. There was no intelligence either.
clack
Its antennae twirled wildly. It had to discern what I was before taking action, all while making its sounds in what we might call an unknown dialect. It had no meaning, likely.
Click click
Time seemed slow for me. How many had died because of these corrupted beings?
Clack Click
It started to realize who I was. Another species. What I was to my people it didn't even know. All it knew was that I was not of its kin, not of its hive. In other words, an enemy.
Clack
I could swear it would be salivating if it was possible within its biology to do so. Another easy meal for its queen, it would think, if possible. I doubt there were medals or scraps of cloth to decorate members in its society. He was not rewarded for helping his conclave. It did it because that was what was done. It had no feelings for its actions. It just did.
CLICK
I wasn't an unarmed civilian though. I was a fighter. I have killed. I have a weapon. I would not lose to a mindless monster. People depended on my winning. If I died, so would others. Not now, maybe, with the rest of the militia behind me. But there would be more danger.
CLACK SNAP
I returned to the world at large. It came now. No plan. It would strike as best it could, as fast as possible, inflict damage like an enraged bull, no thought to its movement. It's first strike would be a desperate bite, like everything it could throw. A desperate strike for anything, anything, anything it could it gets twisted form to hit. This meant an easy dodge. To the left, of course. My favorite direction.
And I did. It missed by feet. I punched its mandible, glistening sharp for its deadly task. It was broken in two, a jagged edge left behind. If it survived, its eating would be severely impaired.
CLACK!
It let out a confused chittering, turned into enraged clicking and clacking and snapping. It had never been hit by a fighter before. Unfortunately for it, it would never hit one either. I brought my iron shamshir into its abdomen.
CRRR-ACK!
It was dead. Sliced in two. 3 strikes had been thrown. I was 2 of them. It left behind a sickly green ichor, which I wiped on the cavern moss at my feet. The fight was over. The threat, eliminated.
Author's Note
Here's the first chapter of DashedOwl. Yes, you will figure what's going on. Not yet, though. Most chapters will focus on different characters. Who this is? You'll find that out too. Have fun.
