DIALOGUE MAY FEEL STILTED
[Under Revisions]
It was evening. Evening in the icy blue tundra of the Frozen North, south to the Crystal Empire. To some, trekking the blizzard was suicide. To others, it was a rare and dangerous sport. To two remarkable stallions though, it was the road to the future, for better or worse. Yes, amidst the blizzards, and amidst the storms; two stallions—father and son—made their journey.
The trek to Equestria had been a hard one. The elder stallion had always been good at navigating the frozen wastelands. And with the assistance of the path finding stations, getting lost was not nearly as large a problem as some may see it as. The crystal huts carved into the side of hills were relatively easy to spot if you knew what you were looking for.
No, there were no problems in terms of weather and distance; though those certainly added to that. It was that the younger stallion was deathly ill; suffering from an unknown illness. It was magic based, so none of the ponies in the Crystal Empire would be able to treat it. Three quarters through the journey, he had collapsed. He had told his father that he could no longer use his legs. But the father was a stubborn one. He simply tossed his son onto his back and continued the journey.
"Up there, son. Surely we are close. Tell me, do you see lights?"
"I can't see a thing, father. This blizzard is too strong," his son's voice was devoid of almost all emotion. The old stallion grimaced weakly.
"We should be near the boarder. The Equestrians will help us, it is not of their nature to deceive," he explained.
There was nothing but a hushed silence. His son was clearly in no mood to talk.
"Son, I need you to make sure we are going the right way. My eyes aren't what they used to be, and my hearing is worse,"
Once again, there was only silence.
The shadows of the two stallions stalked in the pale moon, the icy land reflecting the orb's light upon the landscape. They had long since passed the mountains, and their trail was nothing but a frozen wasteland.
"Soon we should be approaching that Equestrian base. Do you remember what the wanderer told us?"
Silence.
"Son, he told us to listen for the sound of training. That of swords clashing and arrows firing. That is how we shall know when we have made it to the base. He said it was just south of the last mountain, we passed that twenty minutes ago. Do you remember, son?"
"Yes, father," his son's reply was hoarse, "But I see nothing,"
They walked, the elderly stallion using up all of his willpower to keep his son balanced on his back.
"Father," his son's voice was cold and uncaring, "Put me down. I'm getting tired,"
His father pretended that he did not hear that. His legs were buckling and he had his head straight up in an attempt to support himself. After five minutes of quiet walking, he broke the ice.
"How do you feel?"
"Bad," was his only reply. The younger stallion was prone to spasms every once and a while, likely induced by his illness.
"How bad?" his father tried asking again.
"Horrible," was the only answer he got.
Slowly the tundra lowered in it's frozen intensity. The father realized far too late that he could barely see.
"Son," he began, "I can no longer see. Please, I need you to be my eyes and my ears,"
There was no answer given.
"Son, listen to me, I can no longer see well. I need you to be my eyes and my ears,"
There was no reply.
"Did the colt lie to us? He told me it was just beyond the mountain. Yet there is no sign of civilization for miles. Son, please for our sake tell me what you see and what you hear,"
"Father. I'm tired. Put me down," his son's voice was hoarser than before.
"Do you feel bad, son?"
"I do, father," was his only reply.
"Son, I will get you to the village. There is bound to be a doctor there. I'm not going to abandon you after all this time I've spent carrying you on my back,"
"Father, set me down. I want to sleep, just a little,"
The elderly stallion stumbled slightly. He finally seemed to be giving in to the weight.
"Sleep up there, son. I won't let you fall,"
The moonlight appeared from beyond a cloud cover. No longer were they in the tundra. They were in a frozen field and hills surrounded them. The old stallion was drenched in sweat, but not his own.
He looked back to his son and noticed the younger stallion's dark grey coat covered in ice crystals. The younger stallion looked as if he were dead, as if he had met his frozen fate long ago. The only assurance he had that his son was even still alive was his pained breaths.
"I'm not doing this for you," he said sternly, "It's for your mother. You remember her, no?"
There was no response.
"I knew she would haunt me if I just left you there to die. She, and only she gives me the courage to do this. She brought me courage while you brought me trouble, humiliation, and shame,"
He began to sweat as the magically-induced weather dramatically changed from cold to warm.
"I'll break my back for you. I'll bring you to the Equestrians and they will heal you. And I know what you'll do... You'll go back to your wicked ways as if nothing ever happened. Of course, that no longer matters to me anymore. Once I've brought you to the base, I'll be gone. You will never hear from me again,"
The elder stallion began to limp.
"Son, see if you can't hear anything. Or see anything. My senses are dulled,"
"I don't see anything, father,"
"Too bad for you,"
"I'm thirsty,"
"You'll have to stand it son. We should be almost there. It's probably very late, see if you can't hear the clashing of weapons. The wanderer told me the guardsmen train all night long. Tell me son, can you hear anything?"
"I need water,"
"There is no water here but the moisture on the grass,"
"Father, I'm sleepy. Sleepy and thirsty," the younger pony's voice was just loud enough to be heard by the elderly stallion.
"I remember when you were born. We had to give you water when she ran out of milk. All you did was drink and sleep. She was the sweetest mare ever. She thought that when you grew up, you would be a strong stallion in shining armor. A stallion that would protect the honor of his family, and support his relatives. But when she tried to give birth to another, it killed her. And I bet you would have killed her again if she were alive,"
Finally all the weight that had been piling up on him crumpled underneath him as he was forced to the ground. He felt a soft, hot liquid on his back. The tears of his son.
"Are you crying, Sombra? The memories of your mother fills you with grief and makes you cry, doesn't it? You never did anything for her, though. You always repaid us by flaunting your greed and lust. Somehow instead of your parent's affection, your body was filled with evil. And only now you see your sins. Your friends and supporters are dead, killed by those more righteous than them. They had no family to turn back on, though. They had no loved ones. They had nopony to be concerned about," the elderly stallion coughed loudly.
"But you, Sombra?"
In the distance, both ponies saw a fort. Royal guards training in the pale moonlight. The attention of the guardponies turned to the duo and a group immediately began to trot to their position.
The sound of clashing erupted from the fortress as the guards trained tirelessly.
"And you didn't hear them, Sombra?" the elderly stallion gasped as unconsciousness threatened to take him forevermore, "You didn't even help me listen."
