I am called Sanguine, of the Dragon Tribe. Our village lay on the outskirts of Everfree Forest amongst the ruins of a town once known as Ponyville. Structures held together by planks of wood taken from old storehouses long since covered in dust make up our homes, accompanied by the lush overgrowth of nature blanketing the cobblestone streets. The petrified remains of carts and wagons lay scattered about, seemingly frozen in time only to waste away where they rest. Many colored paints blot the walls of these structures, accented by old signs in a language long lost to the ravages of time. Scattered plates, broken glass and splintered doorways tell a story of urgency and terror, yet none remain to tell the tale of what had happened.

None but Spike the Great, that is.

He is very large dragon. Our protector and savior. Spike the Great is our leader, our shaman and father to us all. His armored hide a pattern of purple scales that put gemstone to shame, decorated with emerald spines along his head and back, ending in a kind of mace on his tail. His breath both a giver of knowledge and taker of life. He had taken it upon himself to safeguard our people; to teach them, shelter them and help them prosper.

I think he is a fool.

He insists that ponies are meant to unite, to 'get along' and to cooperate in harmony. He refuses to believe that the war between the tribes exists, even when our people are captured, enslaved or simply killed outright. From the north, deep in the Everfree lay the Zebra. A tribe of savages that take pleasure in eviscerating their opponents in the most gruesome manner possible. It is a sport to them. To the east, the Pegasai. Their wings allow them great speed and maneuverability, yet Spike tells us of a time when they could truly fly amongst the clouds like a bird. I shudder to think of what they would do to us, had they the ability now. To the west are the Earthen, A tribe of neither wing nor horn, completely obsessed with mastering nature. They plant crops, till fields and work night and day all for the sake of a harvest that will never come; the Everfree makes certain of that. Lastly, to the south, creep the Nightwalkers. An unholy hybrid of Pegasus and Bat, they glide through the night sky without making a sound, striking the unwary forager and silencing their life in an instant.

We, the 'Dragon Tribe' as we are called, are Unicorns. Our magic allows us a greater flexibility in construction and tool crafting, giving us the upper hand over the other tribes and ensuring our central location remains a fortress. However, for all of our ability and knowledge, not even we can weather an endless siege. The four tribes surrounding us have fought amongst themselves for decades, seeing us an immovable titan. However, Spike the Great has grown ill, and he refuses to leave and recover. The other tribes have sensed this weakness and come together in a sick twist of The Great's hopes of harmony amongst Equines.

I stand outside of our meeting hall, a centrally located building in the ruins of Ponyville, as Spike converses with the village elders on a course of action. My clothing is kept to a minimum, earning me scorn from those of my tribe. They insist on wearing the heavy adornments of chain and plate scavenged from the ruins of our Goddess' temple in the forest. I wear only a belt across my chest, knives for plant cutting and potions for healing tucked in slots on it. I also wear a satchel on my left thigh for carrying items, a fur cloak to stay warm and provide a bed, a belt for carrying more herbal remedies and snacks, and my Spear for deterrence of any whom would attack me. I wore no pants or shirt, as others would insist on the grounds of 'modesty'. I insist on dressing this way to aid with speed, for practicality. What use is modesty when your enemy is gutting you? Why fight a battle when you can easily escape from one unscathed? Why confront a foe when you can simply out-maneuver them?

My choice in attire was not the only thing that separated myself from the Tribe, however. My tribe held the use of magic in very high esteem, given that it allowed our survival. I was not as gifted as they would like, and had become a forager because of it. When the others would refuse to leave our walls for needed supplies, they would send me. I could run faster than any other unicorn, simply due to not wearing heavy armoring and keeping in shape. Our elders often grew fat from the spoils of failed raids on our walls and I despised them for it. This further alienated me from their inner circle and from those that held the elders in a state of reverence.

I preferred solitude anyway. I would sneak out at night to walk along the nearby lakeside and think of better times. Times before the warring tribes, before the endless struggle to survive. It was in these musings that I was caught unawares.

"Sanguine!" A voice barked, jarring me from my thoughts. I held my spear closer to my chest out of reflex, lifting it from the ground as if ready to sprint off.

"Gah! You know not to startle me, Plate Mail!" I shot back, easing on my grip of the spear and letting the flat end strike the grass beneath me. The stallion before me was one of my 'friends'. In so much that somepony that tolerates your existence when all others shun you can be labeled as much. He had a dark coat of blue, eyes of jade and a mane of silver with streaks of white down the center. He was fairly rotund as well, his namesake plate-mail bulging around his midsection in a vain attempt to keep his fat protected. Like our entire tribe, he was a Unicorn as well.

"I don't know how I could've snuck up on you, Sanguine. I rattle with every step!" He replied, jiggling his belly and causing a mess of metallic clanking to make his point.

I covered my ears, the spear shaft falling between my shoulder and neck. "Would you quit that!? I can't hear myself think!"

The cacophony of noise finally stopped after Plate gained a few more chuckles at my expense, The obese waste that he was taking joy in my annoyance. "Come on, Sanny. Don't be like that!"

I rolled my eyes at the pet name. "Is there something you wanted, Plate?" I took my spear again in my hands, holding it like a protective totem between myself and the repulsive stallion.

"Ah, 'tis not I, fair maiden." He announced with an exaggerated bow and haughty accent. "Doth be the esteemed elders that seek your presence!"

I looked at him with suspicion. "Truly. The Elders want me. You must be joking."

He recovered from his bow, his plates clanking as they re-aligned. "I'm actually serious, for once. I don't know why they want you, but they called for you specifically."

I raised an eyebrow at that. "Well, that's unexpected. Do you know what they want?"

"They didn't tell me much, but I assume it has something to do with..." He leaned in, cupping his hand over his mouth to whisper at me. "...Spike the Great!"

My ears folded back in concern, accompanying my surprised face. "Spike? But what could I possibly do? I am not a healer, Plate Mail!" I protested in a harsh whisper.

"Go see what they want, because I don't know!" he shot back, grabbing my arm and giving me a shove towards the meeting hall. "And see if they still have any cake left!" He called after me.

The fat metal stallion walked off, soon joining some of his companions to join in a game of drink as he usually did. He might not be the most studious or reserved amongst the tribe, as was usually prized, but he was friendly towards me. That counted for something at least. I took up my spear and used it as a walking stick, my fur cloak slightly waving behind me as I briskly walked towards the meeting hall doors. I always preferred the open-ness provided by the lack of clothing, despite the looks I would occasionally get shot my way for dressing 'Like a savage'. I didn't care, and just to add to the discomfort of my stuck up tribes-mates I donned war paints to emphasize my nudity, just to spite them. It didn't hurt that I actually found the look to be pretty, either.

The walk to the meeting hall was a short one, having already been nearby. There were only a few scattered wagons that had been stripped for material to lay in my path, and they were easily avoided by simply weaving through them. Outside of the hall stood two guards, both wearing what Spike had dubbed 'Chain Mail' tunics that went below their groins. Of course, they insisted on wearing padding beneath this armoring to avoid the chains clinging and biting into their fur, but I still thought them silly for wearing it. They wouldn't need all that protection if they couldn't be hit in the first place. Idiots.

"Sanguine." A guard greeted pleasantly. He wore a full face helmet, and thus I couldn't place his voice.

"I am here at the request of the elders." I replied with respectful tone.

"You are expected." The other guard agreed. The two of them retracted the spears barring my path, each pushing open one side of the barely held together double doors that squeakily announced my entrance.

"Stamp your hooves out before you come inside~!" A voice cooed at me.

"Uhg." I groaned to myself. "Yes, Mother!"

The guards snickered before closing the door behind me. The stamping of hooves began and ended, a few flecks of mud flying free of my hooves and landing on a worn out 'welcome mat'.

"Oh, it's so good to see you!" My mother, Misty Memories called while walking towards me. She was dressed in a ridiculous gown that went nearly down to her hooves. How was she supposed to run in something like that, anyway?

"You as well, mother." I replied half-heartedly.

"Where have you been? I haven't seen you in at least four days!" She lightly scolded. Her voice was cheery with a note of concern.

"I've been scavenging, foraging, and generally avoiding everypony." I replied honestly. She became very upset when I tried to lie, so I had simply stopped lying in favor of brutal honesty.

"Oof, Celesti' knows why, dear." She scoffed, waving her hand. "Look at you! So scruffy! So barbaric!"

"I was told I was needed for something?" I replied, attempting to change the subject and keeping a neutral face.

"Oh! That's right. You were called here by Elder Sparkle!"

Sparkle. His full name was Novae Sparkle, supposedly a descendant of somepony named Twilight Sparkle, many times a grandchild. 'The reason for our great protector', he so often claimed.

"Do you know what he wanted?" I asked, my hand gripping my spear in anxiety. It was never a good moment to be summoned by him.

"It's about Spike the Great!" Mother explained. "The protector is getting weaker by the day, and-- Oh, listen to me spoil everything! You should really talk with Novae about it!"

I took a deep breath, heaving a sigh. "Alright. Let's see how my encounter with him goes this time."

"Good luck, dear!" Misty called, walking off in pursuit of some distraction or a mate to bed. My mother was pretty, as far as most ponies' standards go. Her coat was an icy blue, eyes a teal-green and her mane a blend of seaweed green and creamy white. Many rumors had come and gone about whom my father really was, given that I looked nothing like my mother. My own coat was pure white, my eyes aglow like a campfire even during the night. (A fact that spooked many young foals and caused me to be the center of ghost stories during slumber parties.) My mane was a crimson color for the most part, my bangs a coppery gold that reflected in the sunlight. Despite my fiery appearance, I much preferred the moonlight of Lun.

I realized I had caught myself thinking instead of doing and quickly lifted my spear enough that it wouldn't hurt Novae's precious wooden floors. He used the meeting hall as his own mansion, complete with trusted guards using the best of the scavenged equipment we had found over the years. Despite my dislike of him, I will admit that he was very good at his job. He was the head researcher and magus of our tribe; constantly working with Spike the Great to learn more and more arcane knowledge that had been lost to the ravages of time. He was able to quickly grasp and master any concept brought before him, though his studies left his social abilities and manners far behind in the dust.

"Oof!"

I had accidentally run into an aide, sending books and parchment everywhere.

"I'm sorry! Are you alright?" I asked with concern, catching a few books with my magic and other papers in my hands.

"Get your hands off of those, savage!" The aide barked, startling me. It was enough that I dropped the books in my grasp and the papers joined the rest on the floor before being scooped up.

"Ah-I..." I stuttered.

"Just get out of my way!" she grumbled, shoving past me in spite.

I fought the urge to impale the witch on my spear, the thought vanishing quickly as it had come. It would solve nothing anyway. I took a deep breath and continued on my way through the halls, eventually reaching Novae's chambers. Again, two guards greeted me.

"Sanguine, you are expected."

"You may enter."

They both opened the way for me, the double doors of better quality opening with the squeak of age. A large library was visible, books covering every space possible and creating a labyrinth of knowledge to bar my passage.

"Enough of this," I muttered to myself. "Novae! Where are you?" I called out into the room, the doors shutting behind me.

"Sanguine, is that you?" I heard Novae answer from far away.

"Yes!" I replied.

*POOF*

Novae teleported in front of me, my reflexes taking the better of my judgement and pointing my spear towards the sudden noise. He looked surprised for a second, before nudging the point away from his face. "So good to see you!" He replied sarcastically.

"Likewise." I grumbled.

"I need your help." He abruptly stated, throwing me off guard.

"Wh-what?"

"Spike the Great is sick." he explained, resting a hand on my cloaked shoulder. It slightly squirmed until the cloak was shoved to the side, his hand on my fur. "He needs gemstone in order to survive, and we cannot afford to trade with the other Tribes; Not as they prepare to overwhelm us."

I was distracted for a moment by the intrusion of his hand on my body, but refocused soon enough. "What do you mean?"

"Spike the Great, our Protector, Mentor and Savior, is sick. Starving, actually. The big oaf has decided that our safety was more important than his dietary concerns and starved himself to near uselessness." He looked over his shoulder towards a smokey snout that was poking from a mound of books. "Poor fool doesn't tell me anything." He tutted.

"What can I do to help?" I asked. I may not have liked Novae, but Spike was our everything. Everypony in the Dragon Tribe knew we were called that for a reason. He was the heart and soul of us all. The rope that bound us together, whether we wanted to be or not.

Novae's smile gave me chills. "Well, my dear Sanguine, we need you to go scavenge for us. Well, for Spike mostly... Actually, entirely for Spike."

"What am I looking for?"

"He needs Gemstones, preferably large quantities of them. He needs them yesterday, and he's too weak to get them himself. The assault yesterday nearly took everything out of him." he glanced worriedly at Spike with that last remark.

"Where do I go?"

"Diamond Dog territory, for starters."

I gulped. The Diamond Dogs had been known for centuries, even by Spike the Great in his youth. They were very fond of heavy armoring, large cleaving weapons and group ambushes. A single cleaver wielded by those monsters was nearly as tall as a pony!

"After that, you'll return here. That should be the first trip."

"Th- the first?"

"Yes." he patted me on the shoulder. "The second trip will be to the Ruins of Canterlot."

If my coat could get any whiter, it would've then. "Y-yo-you can't be s-serious!"

The Ruins of Canterlot were forbidden to all, by Spike the Great himself on penalty of 'Banishment'. He never elaborated on what that meant, but with how he sounded whenever he spoke, it was nothing anypony wished. He had told stories of Canterlot; The mountain city in the clouds. Overrun by monsters without description and filled with horrors beyond imagining.

"Psh, please Sanguine. It's just a city." he scoffed.

"Grr. You're not the one going there, Novae."

"It doesn't matter anyway. I've decided that you are the only one of us that is fast and agile enough to make your way past the surrounding tribes and accomplish this task." He declared officially, stamping a fist in his palm held at belly level, facing away from me.

I bit my lip. This was probably going to be a death sentence. I wouldn't put it past Novae to do something like that, as I wasn't wanted in the tribe anyway. I had always been an outcast.

"Chop chop, Sanguine. Our protector doesn't have much time left." He remarked semidetached, examining a book to give himself the appearance of doing something important.

Rather than cause a scene, I decided to turn around with my spear and march out of the chambers. I knocked twice on the doors and they soon opened, revealing the guards and Plate Mail at their front.

"Sanguine! I'm here to formally escort you from the village." He cheerfully said with a wide grin.

"Plate Mail?" I asked, my arms being grabbed by the guards and I was lifted off of my hooves. My spear was caught by Plate Mail before it fell to the ground.

"Oop, wouldn't want to scratch the floors!" He ignored me, spinning around and using my spear like a marching wand. "Onwards, lads!"

I struggled, my smaller stature helping me none against the muscled guards. "What's going on, Plate?" I demanded to know.

"Oh come now. You've got a mission to complete, and there's no sense in letting you lollygag around the place until its accomplished, is there?"

He pushed open another set of double doors to the outside, leading me through the town in view of everypony. Amongst the scandalous looks I received, I noticed my mother attempting to 'woo' a guard. Typical.

"Night Watch, open the gates, would you?" Plate called up to the gate guard.

"Sure thing!" She chirped, pulling a crank and causing the grinding of rusted gears along with the clanking of metal chains. Soon, a drawbridge lowered to the ground with a loud thud.

"Off you go then, Sanguine!" Plate announced, the two guards pulling back slightly before throwing me from the town across the gap of the drawbridge, sending me rolling in the dirt and mud a few times before coming to a stop. "Don't forget your friend!" He called.

My friend?

*zzZZZ-Thunk!*

My spear landed next to my head, causing me to recoil in fright for a moment. I looked up to Plate, whom was wiggling his fingers at me.

"Toodles!" He called, turning around as the gate clanked its way back to security.

I was covered in muck and mud, my fur matted along with my cloak from the grime. My mane was also dirty, but none of that mattered. For some reason, Novae had felt it necessary to make a show of my leaving the tribe. Did he simply want me gone? He could have just told me to leave, so why the show? I hopped to my hooves, leaning over to pick up my spear and brushing off my breasts, belly, groin and thighs.

I'll have to take a bath at some point, but that will have to wait. I have a mission to complete, tribes to avoid, and a dragon to save.

Author's Note

Trying out a new kind of story. Never really written anything dark, So any feedback is appreciated!

Actually, all feedback, comments and the like are greatly loved by me as well ^.^