Chapter 1: Beaten & Broken
Smoke, fire and steel. My life has been nothing but the hissing of flames, the burning scent of smoke in my lungs, and the clanging of hot bronze and iron for as long as I've lived. Or at least as long as I can remember. The rattle of chains, the sting of the whip, day in and day out. Cradle to grave, like everyone else. We're born, we work, we bleed, we die, and bring forth yet another generation into this crapsack world.
“Hey! Stupid ape!” a voice growled from behind me as I paused to scratch my ear. Oh no, not one of them, “Keep moving! There are more weapons to be forged, and your shift isn't over!”
“B-but I’ve got an itch!” I protested, vainly hoping that for once, just this once, an excuse for a little respite might be taken seriously. “It’ll only take a second, I promise!”
“I said, keep moving, stupid monkey!” the overseer snapped. I winced at the familiar sound of the whip cracking against the floor, the sound that drove thousands of slaves a day unceasingly forward, without rest, without mercy. “I don’t give a buck about your fleas! This should remind you of who’s in charge!”
Tears welled up in my eyes as the lashes struck me, white-hot pain against my back. I bit back a cry of pain and tried uselessly to grab the cord of leather, but the overseer just laughed and struck faster. As always.
“Every once in a while, one of you dumb apes forgets that you’re nothing but beasts of labor,” he jeered as he struck me again, and I was unable to hold back a cry of anguish this time, falling hard onto my knees under the weight of the blow. “Now get back to work, fleabag!”
Whimpering, I slowly rose to my feet, ignoring my stinging back and my bruised knees, and nodded meekly, shuffling fast over to the next workstation. My chains rattled and scraped against the floor as I hastened over, reminding me with every step of what I was. I began returning to working on a bronze spear, my hands moving automatically even as my mind recoiled from the task, numbed from years of doing this over and over. It was not a comfortable routine, but I did it with all the emotional input of a rock, getting back to the steady rhythm of heating, hammering and cooling, heating, hammering and cooling, over and over again as sparks flew in my face. I’d once asked for a little protection when I was younger and more naive, some goggles or even a neck-cloth so my neck wouldn’t get burned. The hundreds of scars on my back reminded me to never try that again.
My name is Jeffrey Carey, age eighteen. Like every other human in the world, I’ve lived my whole life as a slave to pony society. I worked deep inside the Canterhorn in one of their many workcamps to craft all sorts of items that ponies have difficulty crafting due to their lack of hands. Because naturally, it’s easier to make us do it than try to figure it out for themselves.
A long time ago, eons before I was born, we humans ruled the world as the Dominant Race; or so my father tells me, anyway. My mother agrees, but as a pony sympathetic to the plight of humans, for obvious reasons, she may simply be biased.
We were supposed to be the spitting image of the Creator, the stewards of the world, the destined ones. We built villages, then towns, then cities, then countries, and even sprawling empires. We even reached for the heavens, travelling to other worlds to explore.
My eyes teared up again as I thought about everything my parents taught me. My siblings were lucky to have been born as ponies to their human/pony union. They didn’t have to slave away like I have. They instead could pursue their dreams, gain an education, and see the outside world. All of my education was from my mother and siblings teaching me in secret. If Man was so great once before, we haven’t been for a long time.
The ponies came one day, overwhelming us and conquering us. The human mind was supposed to be the ultimate thing in the universe, making us superior to all, and yet, they overwhelmed us with magic, weather and brute strength. We didn’t get a chance to think or plan. Before we knew it, we were in chains. In the blink of an eye, we went from rulers to slaves. Funny how monstrous fate and destiny can be when it’s no longer on your side.
Nopony but our taskmasters remembered us at all, and the Age of Man was long dead, destroyed by weather weapons, them taking control of the heavens and endless waves of Earth Pony shock troops. Our “destiny” was dead, our legacy buried in ruins, and we thought we would all live out the rest of our pathetic existences in chains, baring our backs to their villainy. Some of us even thought our ‘Promised One’ was nothing but a pipe dream, but at least it gave us a little hope, whether misplaced or not.
I had no idea if it was true, but if it was, I wished I could do something about it. The taskmasters sure loved to gloat about how they crushed us so long ago, so maybe it was true. I still couldn’t do anything, though. All I could do was wait. Wait and hope that the Promised One would come to free us. He who we spoke of in whispers and shadows, defiant in that small way to the last, a final, desperate, hope for one who would save us from bondage. A human with the power of an Alicorn, one with the power to overwhelm our oppressors, breath hope back into the husks we had become, restore what had been broken and marred by centuries of slavery’s cruel toil, and ignite Man’s Second Age. The Promised One would come as a lightning strike on a cloudless day, swift and unseen until he was in the midst of us. Some of us had been born with pony abilities thanks to interspecies unions: Mages, Icarii and Druids, but they had their abilities sealed at birth to prevent any chance of rebellion, so if the Promised One walked among us, none of us would know, possibly not even them.
Foals born to such unions were far more lucky. My siblings all had the superiority of the human mind, and could enjoy lives even most ponies would envy. They had rights. They had value, dignity, worth beyond merely what they could shape or do.
Me? I was just a slave. An animal. A beast of labor who just happened to be able to talk.
Looking down, I realized I’d finished the spear already, and dipped it in water before placing it with the other completed spears. That was normally how it went, honestly. I’ve been doing this so long my hands just… work regardless of where my mind is wandering. Probably for the best, considering what happens if I stop. Still trying to ignore the itch, I turned to make my way back to the first station to continue my endless labor when the sound of a whistle blew. My shift was over.
“Now get back to your quarters, filthy ape!” the unicorn overseer from before snapped. I can’t remember his face. To me, he was just one among many. Just another whip with a body attached to it. “Eat, go right to bed, and don’t come out until it’s time for your shift tomorrow morning!”
Nodding once again, I shuffled off to the living space I shared with my father. It was just barely close enough for me to reach it before the curfew bell rang, but I made it. I didn’t ask what happened to people who got there after. And frankly, I didn’t want to find out. My mother lived separately from us, but she could visit us, as she bought my father to be able to marry him, making the two of us her property, even though we still couldn’t leave the workcamp.
Our place was little more than an artificial cave carved into the rock, like thousands of others along the wall of the Canterhorn caverns. Not even the nice part, at that. No crystals, no pretty glittery limestone. Just dull rock. I’d heard stories that it wasn’t like that above. In the caverns above, the walls glittered and shone, and there was color everywhere. And even higher than that, there was what my mother and siblings called ‘sunlight.’ Light brighter than any fire or torch, without sparks or hot metal to hold. I’ve personally never seen it even if I know it’s there. I would like to, some day. Dear Creator, just once. “Hello, Jeff,” my father wheezed softly as I entered the place we called home. It was small, cramped, often smelly, and had no furnishings except for an elevated rock to serve as a table for eating. Still, it was better than the forges. By far. “I heard you crying again. Is everything alright?” The emerald orbs in his face that were once so vibrant, so full of life, looked glassy and distant. His auburn hair was wiry, and his fair skin was sickly pale. He was getting worse.
“I’d love to complain, but I can’t,” I replied dryly before a fear struck me, my tone shifting as potentially nasty situations popped into my head, each more worse than the last. “I... I hope I got all the spears done right. If they find even one imperfection, they’ll—”
A flash of light cut me off, instinctively shielding my eyes. I lowered my hand to see a vibrant yellow unicorn mare in our little hovel, gasping for breath from magical exertion for a little bit before looking at me with a smile. My heart leapt in my chest as I couldn’t help but smile back. Of all the ponies I had seen today, I knew at least she was happy to see me.
“Hello, Jeffy,” the mare said warmly as she approached, enfolding me into a warm hug as soon as I crouched to meet her at eye level. You’re home, her eyes silently promised as I buried my head in her withers, my eyes prickling with tears. You are loved. You are worth something even if the world says you aren’t.
“Hi Mom,” I whispered, holding her tight as she ran a hoof through my cobalt hair, inherited from her father, comfortingly. I wasn’t ‘slave’ or ‘fleabag’ or ‘stupid ape’ here. To her, I was ‘Jeffy’, I was ‘Son’, a child, not a slave. “I got whipped again,” I muttered quietly, tightening my grasp around her.
I could immediately hear the sharp, angry intake of breath. “What? I told them not to use those barbaric torture devices on you two!” she huffed, blowing a few strands of her purple mane away from her azure eyes as she pulled back a bit to look into my green ones, as if trying to find the faces of my overseers written on my eyes and go give them a lashing. “George, what about you?”
“Never better, Crystal,” he replied, trying to stifle a cough, though my mother wasn’t fooled.
“Even if the papers only say you’re the property of Crystal Dancer, you’re my husband, George Carey,” Mom snapped. “Don’t lie to me. I’m concerned for your well-being! If you don’t recover, they’ll put you down!”
“Jeff’s more important,” Dad wheezed in response, trying to discreetly hide a much-used handkerchief and failing. “If you do it, you won’t have to worry about my health anymore, dearest.”
Letting go of me, my mother trotted over to the makeshift straw cot my Dad was lying down on. He’d been sick for three months, thus being unable to work. If it weren’t for my mother interfering, he’d have been put to sleep several weeks prior. But with her constantly bringing him medicine and reminding them that he’s her property, she bought him more time. But I had no idea how much longer she could stall for his recovery.
This is just how things were for us, normally. We live as long as we’re useful, and then, no more. Man has but a short time to live, and is full of misery. We come up and are cut down like flowers or grass, with no more mind or thought given to our passing than an insect.
“Are you sure, love?” my Mom asked nervously, nuzzling my Dad before pressing a hoof to his forehead to check his fever. Her voice was just soft enough to make it clear I was not meant to overhear. But I still could not help but listen in, her voice soft but earnest, as if talking about a secret not meant for unguarded ears. “George, you can’t, not yet, not now. He’s not ready. Your family has been marrying sympathizers like me for fifteen generations, and though he is what we were aiming for, I’m still leery. I had to seal it myself before they could take note, and using that blood sample stolen from the palace medical ward was already high-risk enough!”
Blood sample? Stolen? What on the Creator’s green Earth did Mom do? “Mom? Dad?” I piped up, shuffling over to my parents curiously as the clinking of my shackles caught their attention. I had to know what this was. Whatever it was, it sounded important. What was I not ready for? “You’re talking about me as if I’m not here! What’s going on, and what’re you talking about?”
The two stiffened at my approach, exchanging nervous glances for several minutes before Mom finally cleared her throat. I recognised the determined, but anxious glint in her eyes—she was about to give me another lesson on subjects I was forbidden to have knowledge of, as she and my siblings had time and time again, always checking over their shoulders for prying eyes and ears. Teaching a human anything not related directly to their assigned tasks was absolutely forbidden. No loopholes, not even for human children of ponies. My maternal grandfather tried teaching one of his human daughters, and he was never seen again. Mom refuses to talk about it, but she still taught me anyway, even knowing full well what it might cost her.
“Your father’s bloodline is… well…” My mother trailed off and cleared her throat again, before shaking her head and looking me in the eyes as I crouched again to meet her at eye level.
“For many generations, your father’s ancestors have intermingled with taskmaster ponies sympathetic to the plight of humans,” she explained hesitantly, as if she would rather be talking about anything but this topic. “These sympathies were born from love, but after we discovered that human infants born to a human/pony union can have pony abilities, we came up with a plan. It would require love to keep it going, but our plan was to eventually bring a human into the world with the powers of an Alicorn: the Promised One. The rumors of this promise spread through the humans like wildfire, instilling them with hope for the first time in eons.” My eyes widened. I had a feeling where this was going but... that couldn’t be right, could it? A little spark of hope, long-since buried, was slowly inching towards the surface of my mind.
Sighing happily at the thought, her eyes closed as if in deep contemplation, my mother continued. “The hope that one day, you’d all be saved gave you hope, and you were able to bear your burdens far more easily. Generations passed, and still, there was little progress. Until it became my turn. I fell in love with George, bought him so I could marry him, then pilfered a sample of Princesses Celestia and Luna’s blood from the palace infirmary.” She paused for a moment, the weight of her words and the implication of them seeming to catch up with her. My mind was buzzing with more and more questions even as the answer began taking shape. “After transfusing the sample into myself, we tried to have a child, and you were the result, Jeffrey.”
She gave me a long, piercing look, as if trying to make me understand with her gaze alone, hope and fear and even a glimmer of pride in her eyes. “M-mom?” My voice was shaking at this point, confusion blocking my ability to comprehend. “What… what are you getting at?”
“Jeff,” my Dad whispered. “The Promised One? He’s you.”
Author's Note
So, here we are again! Another fic! Hope you enjoyed what I've written so far. This hasn't really been proofread or edited, so it's bound to have some rough edges.
Still, I hope you like this little side project of mine. Maybe enough to give it a an upvote? Or better yet, and upvote and a fave?
I welcome your comments. Liked it? What did I do well? Didn't well, before you leave after downvoting, please, give me some constructive criticism so I can learn to do better.
Well, see you guys next time!
EDIT: This chapter has undergone an overhaul thanks to my good friend and editor, Brasta Septim!
Chapter 2: To Save Us All
I backed up a step, staring straight ahead at the stone walls of our little featureless hovel in absolute shock. The words echoed in my head, but i couldn’t comprehend them for… seconds? Minutes? Hours? I’m not quite sure. But once my mind resumed proper function, all I could do was deny as my brain failed to process the information.
“What?” I exclaimed, unable to believe what I’d just heard. The wheels slowly turned in my head, trying as hard as I could to process this. That... that couldn’t be right, could it? “Me? The Promised One? I’m... I’m nothing special, Dad! I was only born a Mage! A human with unicorn powers that were sealed!” Shaking my head in disbelief over and over, I stumbled backwards. My voice took on a slightly panicked tone as I continued, awe and fear warring inside my head. If I was really who they said I was, that was a responsibility beyond me. A station too great for a follower like me. I was no leader! It couldn’t be me! It just couldn’t! “You told me that!” My eyes darted quickly from one parent to the other, not wanting it to be true, desperately trying to find some hint at this being a joke, or a game, or something that would require them to be making this up, but only to be met with absolute sincerity, no matter how hard I looked.
“We couldn’t tell you the truth yet,” Mom explained gently, stepping forward to envelop me in a loose, yet soothing embrace, even as my confusion deepened. I clung to her, as if the familiar touch might explain everything for me. “You weren’t ready for the responsibility. We didn’t want you growing up with this burden hanging over you every second. But, now that you know, I might as well explain further.”
She took a deep breath as if to prepare herself emotionally before beginning her explanation, speaking slowly to try to help me understand. “You’re what they’d call an ‘Incarnation’: the very embodiment of an idea or concept, often with unique abilities pertaining to that idea.” Her voice took on a very reverent tone as she continued the explanation. “Every Alicorn—as well as every other being with similarly-powerful unique abilities—is in their own way an Incarnation. Whether the concept be day, night, love, friendship, chaos, order… legacy… or anything else, they’re all Incarnations. They have fancy terms for their forms that set them apart from the rest of their kind, but as humans were often quite blunt and direct during the Age of Man, I feel that the term ‘Incarnation’ already fits perfectly.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but my mother held up a hoof to ask me to wait, so I held my piece as her tone changed from reverent to worried, gazing at me with tears in her eyes.
“I sealed the powers myself thanks to my unicorn magic, so the authorities never found out,” she whispered, visibly shaking with what I assumed was fear for my well-being as she started to hold me tighter.
Good thing too, as I think I was starting to shake as well as the impact of exactly what I was being told slowly sunk in.
“They would’ve killed you while you were still a baby if they knew what you really were. I still don’t think you’re ready for the responsibility, son. It’s too much for a young man like yourself!”
“Love, we can’t shelter him from his destiny forever,” Dad countered, erupting into a small coughing fit as soon as he finished.
“It’s not that, George,” Mom replied, squeezing me even tighter as the tears in her eyes started to flow freely. “He’s our son! Our flesh and blood! I love him too much! Don’t you love him, too? I can’t bear to think of our precious little boy in that kind of danger! He…” She choked for a second before resuming. “He might not even know how to use his abilities! What if it isn’t second nature to pony-born humans like it is to foals? What if he tries to fly, only to realize he doesn’t know how to work his wings, and he crashes to the ground in a bloody mess?”
My eyes widened. Way to make me feel confident about this, Mom.
“What if he tries to channel magic through his hands, and instead of it coming naturally, he messes up and one or both of them explode?”
“Explode?” I squeaked, my mother apparently not hearing me as she continued.
Her eyes went wide as apparently some other morbid thought occurred to her. “What if—”
“I do love him, too, Crystal,” my Dad whispered, cutting in as firmly as his weakened state would allow, “And I don’t want to see him hurt either. But he’s not our baby boy anymore. He’s a grown man. The choice is no longer ours to make. It’s his. Besides, he flew and used magic just fine for the two minutes before he was sealed. He’s not about to mess up when it was like second-nature right after birth.”
My mind was still reeling from so much information in so little time, but I managed to grasp enough of it to be able to discuss it with myself. I wasn’t cut out to lead, but surely, my human brethren would want me to do just that. What if I messed up? What if I led them into a trap? Why did it have to be me? I lacked confidence! I was a coward, a worrywart! Everything a good leader wasn’t.
But then, something deep inside me whispered that they needed me. I was the best choice, because I was the only choice. I had to do it. It was my duty, because no one else could do it. And duty required sacrifice, even to the risk of death and worse. What could I do? Let my people suffer because I was too afraid to step up? Or do my duty and put myself on the line, even if it might risk myself and my parents as well, if it was ever found out what my mother had done? Which was the greater good? The lives of a few or the lives of many?
Fear of so many possible negative outcomes still plagued my mind, but I slowly came to a decision as I sat there, mulling it over in my head. With a note of ominous finality, I forced myself to nod before rising to my feet and saying, “Do it, Mom. I’m ready. This is still so much to take in, and I’m afraid of failure, but it needs to be done, right? If I can help my fellow humans, I want to do it.” It might risk my family in the crossfire, but on the other hand, it might mean finally finding the security we hadn’t had as long as we could remember. “If we can take over the facility, Dad won’t be in danger anymore. We could get him proper treatment.” I took a deep breath, calming myself as the fear rose in the back of my mind again, and looked into her eyes. “Please. I’m ready.”
“V-very well,” she whispered before stepping back and lighting up her horn with that brilliant azure glow, which in turn enveloped my entire form. I felt a faint tingling sensation, as if an invisible barrier was rubbing against my skin. “The babies cry out in pain when they get sealed, but I don’t know if undoing it will hurt, too, I just hope it doesn’t.”
It is hard to describe the touch of magic accurately, but I will try my best. It felt like something was humming inside my veins, my joints, my nerves, gentle at first, then intense, almost painfully so. I felt her power flow through me, rushing from my head, down my shoulders to focus on my back, right between my shoulderblades. Suddenly, I felt something shatter, followed immediately by searing, white-hot pain, as if something was clawing at the inside of my back and trying to escape, forcing me to all fours.
“Gaaah!” I couldn’t hold back the scream as I felt something growing out of my back, the feeling somewhere between bizarre and excruciating. For all the pain, it felt like... like a dislocated arm being popped back into place. Painful, but with the overwhelming sense of ‘this belongs here.’
“Jeffy!” Mom screamed, rushing to my side and holding me tight. “It’s okay, Mommy’s here! I’ll just stop the spell and—”
“No,” I managed through clenched teeth as the twin protrusions ripped through the back of my shirt before joining to my spinal cord. I gasped at the sudden sensation, but not from pain—no, this was just strange. I could feel another set of limbs now, not as just something sticking out of my back, but as a part of me. As if it’d always been there. In addition, another sensation came with it: one of… nature? Wind, rain, that kind of stuff. I’m not sure exactly how else to describe it, but I could feel the tingle of lightning, the cool touch of rain on my skin, the wind blowing through my hair. I felt it, and more importantly, I could understand it, despite having never encountered it before. “I have to do this. Don’t stop, Mom. Just hold me tight, and I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, son,” she whispered, tears in her eyes once more as she stroked my hair with a hoof. “I’m right here.”
I felt the same shattering sensation on my hands just before more pain shot through my fingers as each bone in my ten digits extended to one and a half times their original length, my palms expanding to accommodate the longer digits. It felt as if my bones and nerves were breaking and mending themselves, over and over. The pain increased further as I felt something akin to spiraling grooves carving into each bone, like a unicorn’s horn. No, not carving. The bone was being expelled. Like it was something foreign that had been wedged in to fill in the grooves.
My hands still felt like they were on fire, an extended sensation beyond myself flowing from my fingers to my brain.
Then I felt the rush of power move downward, surging like a battering ram to my feet, and I felt the shattering sensation once more, followed by excruciating pain in the soles of my feet. There was a moment of numbness, as if they had fallen asleep, then it vanished, and I could more than just feel the ground under my feet. I was aware of it, every crack in the stony floor, every little crevice and groove as if it were a part of me. Then all of my muscles flared up in pain, causing the greatest scream yet as my muscles felt far stronger and more potent, despite not gaining much bulk.
With three limbs unsealed, I felt the power within me surging towards my head with the force of a cannon upon rock inside my brain, and I felt... not just something inside me, but something outside myself. I couldn’t fully understand it, but it felt as if something far greater than myself, distant but still very much present, was bestowing some unique ability on me, though it vaguely felt as if I’d become more human than human, if that makes any sense.
At least, I couldn’t understand it at first. In an instant, the awareness became voices. Not tens, hundreds, thousands, millions, or even billions, but trillions. Thousands of dead languages speaking all at once, a discordant babble of words that would normally have been utterly incomprehensible to me, but I understood them all. It was as if I was a child again, where words have yet to be tied to the concepts they represent, except I innately understood the meaning behind them even if the words themselves were esoteric bundles of syllables and phonemes.
With the voices came memories. Not mine, but theirs. Then I knew: these were all the humans deceased. All the way back to the first man to ever live. But among so many voices, so many memories, I couldn’t hear myself. I felt myself starting to get lost among my deceased brethren, all crying for vengeance, justice for the loss of their once grand position. I threw back my head and howled in agony, desperate to not lose myself to the legions of departed. In my mind, I tried to scream at them to be silent, but I couldn’t know which voice was mine.
Mom was right. I wasn’t ready. And now, she was going to lose me to the very powers she’d intended for me.
Just as I was about to lose myself to the endless masses of the lost, I felt my mother hug me tighter, whispering, “You can do it, Jeffy. Mommy’s right here. We believe in you.”
With her words, I managed to tear myself out of the furious masses, find myself, and with a final shriek of agony, I crumpled into my mother’s embrace, panting heavily from the excruciating pain of the transformation.
“It worked,” Dad breathed in amazement. “It actually worked! Our son, the Promised One! Icarus wings, Mage hands, and Druid strength and connection! A human with powers like an Alicorn! Crystal! Our Jeffrey is an Incarnation!”
Slowly getting to my feet, I watched as my mother pulled a collapsable full-height mirror out of her saddlebag for me to look at myself in. Massive, majestic white feathered wings sprouted from my back. My fingers were longer than before, and I could sense the magical connection through them. My muscles had bulked slightly, though I felt a lot stronger than even my new appearance let on, and I could feel a connection to the very Earth through the soles of my feet.
Additionally, my cobalt hair was orderly for the first time, the strands appearing to have merged into some kind of animate magic. It didn’t shift much, but it did appear to move ever so slightly, even with no air currents to move it.
Looking down at my feet, I took note of the shackles that still bound my feet, and the manacles that restricted my hands. Focusing on my hands, my eyes widened in shock as they took on a green glow that matched my eyes. Focusing further, I envisioned the metal links snapping open, freeing me at last.
The power engulfed the metal bindings, and with a lot more force than I intended, they snapped open, flinging their segments in random directions, striking the walls before falling to the ground.
“Uh…” I was stunned at the sheer level of power I suddenly had. That was a lot more than I expected. I would likely have to work on exercising more control in the future. Rubbing my bare wrists and ankles in amazement, it finally dawned on me: I was free! A slave no longer!
Trying once more, this time with a little more precision (but not by much), I focused on my father’s own bindings, snapping them open as well, but bending them way out of shape. Yep. I didn’t know my own strength, that was for sure. What if I accidentally harmed one of my own? The thought terrified me. I couldn’t ever live with myself if I made that kind of mistake.
“Now, our son! Go! Your people need you!” My mother said, tears in her eyes. “Restore your people’s birthright! Just promise me that anypony who supports you won’t feel Man’s rage.”
“Of course Mom,” I replied warmly. “When we retake our rightful place as the stewards of the world, anypony who supports us, or even is sympathetic to us, will be adopted into the human family and treated as equals. I’ll make sure of it.”
Setting my jaw with determination, I added, “Now, my people need me. Farewell for now, Mom and Dad.”
“Jeffy?” Mom said, trotting up to me before putting a hoof on my arm to gently turn me around.
“What is it, Mom?” I inquired, unsure of what she wanted.
“You may be ready in mind, son, but not in skill,” She told me gently. “We have to get you some training, first. I have some friends who should be able to train you before you fight to free your brethren. The night is still young. Please, son. Let us help you to help your kind.”
After mulling it over for a moment, I nodded. She had a point. Even if I managed to cast and fly just fine as a newborn, that didn’t mean I’d still be able to after years without it. I still didn’t really know any spells. Sure, I destroyed those chains just fine, but that doesn’t really mean I’d be able to use any real spells or weather powers when the going gets rough.
“Okay Mom,” I agreed. “Take me there.”
“Make us proud, son,” my father whispered as my mother nodded in satisfaction.
“I intend to,” I assured them before Mom lit up her horn, the azure glow enveloping both of us, taking me away from the caverns I’d been forced to live in for eighteen years.
It was almost time to break the yoke of bondage my people had been forced to bear for eons at long last.
Author's Note
Sorry for the long wait, but I hope you all enjoyed! This chapter gave me a lot of trouble, but I love how it turned out.
So, what did you think? Please let me know in the comments below! Please vote if you haven't already… I'm sure you get the point.
Anyway, although it'll likely take a while again, I'll see you next time in Chapter 3! Later all!
