The Dark Origins of the Windigo
I was sitting in my office, finishing up my final reports for the day when my door exploded inward. A panting crystal pony was standing there with a desperate look in his eyes. He told me that while an exploratory team was climbing the Frozen Spires, the mountain range at the western edge of the Crystal Empire, they discovered a large cave along the Eastern face of Mountain Seven.
I informed the frantic pony, who I later learned was named Icy Horizons, that such a report was interesting, but not something I was qualified to make a comment on as my specialty is equipology, not geology. He shook his head and informed me it wasn’t the cave which had brought him, but what was inside of it. The team had found a single body encased in ice, as well as burned and destroyed supplies from what can only be assumed to be their equipment.
This immediately caught my interest. It had long been thought that the Frozen Spires were an insurmountable challenge to face. Until around fifty years ago every expedition on the spires had been a failure. This was due to the magical influence the mountains had on their weather. The mountains sat on top of a leyline of mana, but due to their strange composition and shape, the mana did not flow properly. This resulted in erratic, and often unpredictable weather patterns that just as often resulted in decade long blizzards stronger than anywhere else on Equis as they did clear skies. Dozens of stories existed of ponies returning without the remainder of their party, gibbering and broken, unable to properly function in society after that. But more often, the stories of the ponies that decided to take on the challenge of the mountain ended with the ponies involved never coming back.
I asked Icy Horizons if there were plans to retrieve the body and the equipment from the cave and bring them back for examination. He informed me that a party had been organized by Princess Cadence herself to retrieve the body and anything else in the cave so they might be identified so any living descendants could give them a proper funeral. Cadence had sent him here to request my assistance in the identification of the individual and determine when the expedition that had claimed the ponies life had taken place.
I could not have agreed faster.
It has been four days since I received the report of the frozen body from the mountains. The body, as well as everything that could be retrieved of their supplies, was brought down today. I was waiting at the castle with everypony else who had been requested to assist in identifying the frozen individual for the group of ponies to arrive with everything that had been recovered from the cave. When the group arrived, several of them were pulling a large cart with a tarp covering a large object while other ponies were carrying rucksacks absolutely overflowing with items from their own expedition and the frozen pony’s.
Everything was taken to a large room that had been cleared out for us to examine what had been brought back. When the tarp was removed from the frozen body, I finally had my first look at the frozen pony. Well, not actually a look. A thick coating of frost and ice was obscuring everything inside the ice, the only indication that there was even a pony inside was the fact that the vague, colorful shape in the middle of the ice was of a pony-like shape.
I reached out with a forehoof to try to clear away what I could, so that I could take a better look when out of nowhere a hoof smacked mine down. I turned and saw that it was one of the ponies that had been sent to retrieve everything from the cave that had slapped me. Before I had a chance to ask why he had done this, he answered by telling me that the ice is unnaturally cold, anything that touches it for too long becomes stuck. To emphasize his point, he pointed towards a section of the ice that looked to have been chipped away and then towards a second member of the recovery team with their right forehoof wrapped.
After three days of examination, the body was found to have been frozen by a windigo. The ice had been subject to three days of continual, low humidity heat, but after 13:30 on the second day, no additional ice was melted. Before being subjected to the heat, we estimated that the body was encased in approximately forty-five centimeters of ice. We were left with an estimated ten centimeters after the three days of heating. After a magical examination of the ice, it was discovered that dark magic was making it so that no amount of heat would allow for further removal of the ice. When the temperature of the ice was taken, we received a reading of -50 C. We expect that the extreme cold of the magical ice caused a build up of water vapor on its surface, and after centuries of freezing and thawing of snow and ice on the mountain, the pony slowly become progressively more encased. It was determined that the only possible method to dispel the ice would be the use of the Crystal Heart and the combined love effort of the Crystal Empire. But now that the ice surrounding what we now know to be a stallion has mostly melted and had become as clear as glass we could get a good look at him. He was a pale blue-green stallion with a white mane containing streaks of a pale, almost white, blue. He was completely wrapped in a blanket with the exception of his head. His face was heavily damaged, one of his eyes was highly bruised and had swollen shut. Looking closer, that part of his face seemed to be caved in, in all likelihood, the eye was beyond repair. I could also see that his nose had been broken and the bleeding from it had caked his muzzle, as well as one of his ears was missing, more accurately though, it looked to have been ripped off. Finally, the cheeks and eyes had sunken in, giving him a gaunt appearance. But something seemed off about the body. His face wasn't contorted in a look of hatred or anger, but of sorrow and emptiness. It looked as if the pony inside hadn’t been frozen by a windigo, but simply by giving up on life.
The use of the Crystal Heart is scheduled for tomorrow at noon to try to melt the ice of the windigo. Hopefully, when he is thawed from his prison, we learn he was only frozen for a short while. I would hate for one of the ponies to tell him the world he knew is long gone and everyone he cared for has left this world. Unfortunately, on my end, it looks likely that the pony in question lived at least nine hundred years ago, based on the style of clothing and the way it looks to have been made. I am holding out hope though that the individual is simply a member of the naturalist movement that has arisen as of late and the clothes were simply hoof made to emulate those of back then. As I might have made apparent, I have not been able to determine when this pony explored the Frozen Spires. Most of his items are burned beyond all recognition and what little has survived shows signs of significant water damage. Based on the degradation of the clothing and rate of decomposition of wool, cotton and hemp, I have determined that the items in the cave have experienced approximately three months of exposure to factors that would lead to their deterioration. Due to the deep freeze that can occur on the Spires, no accurate estimation can be made of when the expedition happened.
The Crystal Heart failed to melt the ice. Even with all the love of the Empire, the ice failed to thaw in the slightest. The hatred that froze this poor soul had to have been absolute and total, that is the only explanation anyone had as to why the heat of love couldn't even warm the ice. According to the experts of the Empire, there isn't a single thing we can do to release him from his prison. How could such an event occur? Even the worst of villains have the smallest light in them that would permit them to escape from a windigo’s freezing influence. What could have caused him to exile all emotion from his heart but hatred and anger?
After yesterday’s failure to free the stallion in ice, I redoubled my efforts to find anything about this stallion that I could. In the end, only a single, well-worn journal from the assorted items brought back from the cave was discovered to be of any relevance and in good enough condition to provide us with any information when examined. Hopefully, we can learn just what lead this stallion to have nothing but hatred in his heart. Unfortunately, it is written in old Ponish, so I need to consult with an expert on the topic to have it translated.
I don’t know whether or not to feel sorry for the stallion now. While his condition is of the most regrettable sort, I can’t help but feel his permanent imprisonment to be a mercy. The journal has all but proven that this stallion came from well before the modern times, so I can't help but wonder just how terrible it would be for him to be brought back now. For all we know, this pony could have been frozen well before Sombra took control, meaning that his family, along with everything else he held dear would be long gone. It was hard enough for us crystal ponies to adjust to the culture shock of being gone for over a thousand years, I can't imagine adding the grief of losing everything onto that.
Author's Note
Thanks to
for helping fix the problems with the first version of this chapter.
The Dark Origins of the Windigo
I know not why my dear Morning Dew has given to me this small journal but at her insistence, I shall endeavor to record each day of my journey so as to have an accurate account of the everyday happenings on my journey to give to her upon my return.
November 23, 08:00
I began the required organization of the supplies I will need to traverse the Frozen Spires. The reports from the northwesternmost outposts of the Crystal Empire have made suggestions of an unknown tribe of creatures past those infernal mountains of ice and despair. Had I not been of high acclaim for my skills at survival in the Frozen Wastes, I doubt that the crown would have seen fit to request my aid in the exploratory efforts to confirm the reports. As it stands, I am to accompany three other crystal ponies over and across the mountains to reach their other side. While I have faith in the competence of the individuals that have been selected, I must question my inclusion in the exploratory party. While I have proven my worth as a survivalist in the Wastes, I must humbly say that such experience is due to the lands and weather patterns of the Wastes being well understood and the occasions of my treks coinciding with the passing of the more severe storms, as that is when the Wastes are at their most forgiving. The Frozen Spires are not only unknown in their topography, but are wholly inconsistent in the behavior, length, and occurrence of their weather. While I might know well the actions that need be taken to assure my companions and my safety when traveling through the mountains, I can not say with any certainty that I would be able to properly assist should things go wrong. I hope dearly that upon our arrival to that unknown sierra, to the competition of our journey, that the clear skies that permitted the outpost to view the possible civilization maintain themselves.
November 23, 13:00
I have just returned from the noon meeting with empire’s queen where the final requirements in preparation for our expedition were laid out. The four pony team that has been organised consists of me leading the party, a linguist by the name of Orator for when we reach the other side of the mountain, a farmer by the name of Hard Soil to examine the foods they have over there and tell of our foods, and a guard by the name of Iron Hoof who had been stationed at the outpost and had volunteered to help with carrying supplies for us. It isn’t a secret that the primary reason that he volunteered was to be one of the first ponies to see a new civilization. While none of us fault his desire to learn more of the world, and the fact his inclusion will lighten our load makes his inclusion a boon for us, Hard Soil and I both agreed that we will be razzing him throughout the trip. I have already started work on my first batch of filly friend jabs I’m going to be using on him.
November 23, 21:00
Our little expedition group decided to have a drink together before we head out to tomorrow. It wasn't anything too obscene, simply a few glasses of mead and a round of whiskey. (As you read this my dear I apologize for my lying to you that my night excursion was to check to see that everypony had properly prepared) I learned that Hard Soil and I are of the same age, with him being my junior by only four months and some change. I had figured we were of similar ages but had guessed him to be my senior by several years judging by the wear on his face. I told him as much and he responded in kind. Our other two companions were both astonished that we were only three years past our fortieth winter, apparently, farming and crossing the Frozen Wastes to trade with neighboring communities ages a pony beyond their natural years. When asked for their ages it was Hard Soil and I’s turn to be surprised. Neither of them had seen their twenty-fifth summer, Orator being twenty-two and Iron Hoof being twenty-three. Both of them were young enough to be Hard Soil and I’s sons.
The remainder of the night was spent discussing our lives before this and what we would do after this. Orator desires to be one of the queens top advisors after the expedition and had spent a great deal of his life practicing to reach this goal. He is quite disappointed that he was sent on this expedition as he was planning to attend a lecture by the current advisor to the queen on how a pony is to properly assess a situation and maneuver one's self to take advantage of events that are to transpire. But he does admit, if there is indeed a civilization past the Frozen Spires then his presence with us would greatly help in his goals. Iron Hoof said that his hopes for this expedition are that the queen sees his potential and permits him to further explore the world and help establish relationships with foreign nations. I told him that such nations are fantasy, that there exists nothing beyond the Southern Barrens. I told him of my attempt to find such lands and how they were met with disaster. The only good that ever came from my voyage to those forsaken plains was meeting you my sweet. He simply laughed, he was not so easily dissuaded. He told us of his colthood, when he was nothing more than a malnourished stick of a foal living in one of the eastern provinces of the empire, and how through will alone he made it into the guard and was stationed along the western edge of the empire. Hard Soil asked him where he could also get some of that will because he was starting to feel a little peckish. This was probably one of the funnier jokes I had heard in some time.
As for Hard Soil and I, we were both content with our lives. He has a wife, two sons, and a daughter still among us. When pressed on my life I simply told them I sought nothing more than to continue my life as a simple trader between the towns and villages of the empire. As we agreed, I kept our familial troubles out of the discussion. I know how it hurts you so to remember our misfortunes and for those not within our family to have said knowledge.
The last half hour of our get together was spent in silence. For what reasons I can only guess. For the two younger members of our crew, judging by the satisfied smirks they wore, I figure they were imagining all of the benefits they would attain when they return, having not only being the first ponies to have successfully bested the seemingly unbeatable Frozen Spires but also as the first ponies to have made contact with a new nation. As for Hard Soil and I, our outlook on this venture was anything but positive. I could see from his face he was not looking forward to this venture as a pensive frown had worked itself onto his muzzle, the same frown I felt had worked itself onto my own muzzle. Our years on this earth have wisened us to the parts of life which truly matter, and finding a new creature to engage with was not one of them. Where it not for the queen's personal desire to see the two of us on this expedition but rather the entirety of it be comprised of volunteers, I would bet that no pony who had seen their thirtieth Summer would have been on it
Tomorrow we travel the first leg of the fifty-four kilometer trip to the outpost where the lights had been sighted. We should be able to arrive in two days time should the Frozen Wastes decide to cooperate with our goals.
The Dark Origins of the Windigo
I have gotten together with an old friend, Lucky Charms, in the castle room that had been cleared for use in identifying the individual and examining the supplies so the two of us could go over the contents of what has been translated so far. We met in college and when I found out he was in the kingdom, I figured we might get together to go over what I’ve been doing. But one thing led to another and I couldn't resist telling him about what I was working on and invited him to join me in examining the journal. Hopefully, I won't end up wasting the time he has here with a simple story of a pony making a poor decision when attempting to best the Spires.
“You know what, Deep, I wasn’t aware that the Crystal Empire had its own line of Alicorns back then, nor that they were interested in exploring the Frozen Wastes. I mean, with all the habitable lands in the south, I would have assumed they would focus their resources on colonizing them.”
“Yeah, they had a few rulers before Sombra took over the kingdom. If this journal was written when I think it was, the area around the Empire was nothing more than a barren tundra at the farthest reaches of the north. They might as well have been living in an ice age seeing as the area around them would have been little more than a wasteland. In all likelihood, the rulers at the time would have been desperate to find any way to expand it and find better ways to survive.”
“Well, when you put it that way, sending out a small group of explorers makes much more sense. Though I still wonder why they speak about themselves as crystal ponies, you know? If they were the only ones around back there, I don’t see the point in it. They must have had knowledge of the other tribes already, didn’t they?”
“I know that we started to call ourselves crystal ponies after an earth pony explorer found our kingdom from the South. There aren’t any texts that give exact dates, but a generaly accepted time for when that happened was around fourteen thousand ago, so at least we know he wasn't around before even the tribes began to form.”
“Mhh, sounds nearly as old as Princess Celestia might be. You know, nopony’s been able to find a book that’s proved how old she really is. The only reference point we have is from that prank princess Luna played on her when Celestia’s birthday cake ended up being more candles than cake. The whole castle looked like a heartwarming eve tree.”
“Haha, you're so funny. Really, this is serious, we have a pony frozen in windigo ice and your making cracks at Celestia's age? So far, all we have to go on is that he isn’t as old as Celestia and he was an explorer told by his queen at the time that he needed to help with an expedition over the Spires. I’m going to see if I can pull up any information on past explorations by the crown.”
With those words, Deep Analysis began walking out of the room and towards one of the many libraries scattered around the castle interior, leaving behind a headshaking Lucky Charms.
“Always so serious…” Lucky Charms mumbled while he moved his stool in the middle of the table to examine the translated texts closer. It seemed to him that, while it was of course very important to free the poor stallion out of his misery, it wasn’t that time critical.
“Do that,” he shouted after his friend, “I will see if I get anything more useful out of this in the meantime.”
Though after several minutes of reading, he only got the i mpression that the strange stallion indeed had a skill for writing interesting diary entries, but he was none the wiser about what Deep expected to get from reading these records.
“I’m back. I didn’t find anything in any castle records about an expedition sent out to the Frozen Spires by any of the past princesses or queens. I even checked the old poetry section. THE POETRY SECTION LUCKY. You know how much I hate those things.” Deep Analysis came into the room, looking more disheveled than usual. Several parchments were hanging off of his flank and head, not even being noticed by the crystal pony in question.
“Your lack of interest in poetry is sadly known by me indeed. Wouldn’t hurt you to read a bit of Shakespony from time to time.”
“I swear to Celestia, if you make me read another untranslated work by him, I will personally take you to the Frozen Spires myself to figure out what happened.”
“A romantic trip? Just us two? How thoughtful of you!” Lucky Charms batted his eyelashes. “I knew you had a romantic side.”
“Let’s just get back to the journal. What did you find out while I was gone?”
“Well, it seems to be that your new friend had a talent for writing adventure stories, that’s for sure…” He lifted a hoof to prevent Deep from responding to that. “But it also told me that he was not alone on his journey. With him were a guard, a farmer, and a linguist. I wonder where these guys are. They didn’t find anypony else, did they?”
“Unless all of them met their end to a windigo, while I’m fairly certain the bodies would be well preserved due to the effect ice has on decomposition, I’m fairly confident that we wouldn't be able to find them on such a large mountain.” Deep Analysis shook his head. “And even if we could find them, how would we be able to tell them apart from the dozens of other ponies that tried to conquer the Spires?”
Deep Analysis finally noticed the parchments that had decided to tag along with him back to the journal and began to remove and also place them on an empty desk.
“No, that is not how it works Deep.” Lucky raised a wing and spread out one feather after another to support his counting.
“First, finding them doesn’t sound so unlikely, keeping in mind they all should be in or around the cave you mentioned. Second, even if you would find a lot of other ponies around them, you could clearly tell them apart by clothes and appearance. And third, by injuries. I haven’t forgotten what you said about the state of the stallion. If a windigo is to blame for him actually being frozen in ice, I really doubt they would rip off his ear, break his nose, or anything physical like that. That is not how they act. No, no, no, these wounds were caused by something far more physical, like a bugbear or some other hostile creature. I’m confident you’re going to find the same kind of injuries on his team for sure.”
“That's assuming that the other members made it to the cave. You have to remember, until about fifty years ago, the Frozen Spires were thought to be impassable. I have no doubts that at least one of the members would have died on the way up. It's also possible that the other members of the expedition abandoned him after he was frozen. In that case, they could literally be anywhere on the mountain.”
“Now you disappoint me Deep, where did your sense of logic go? If the windigos froze him, the others surely wouldn’t have simply stood there and done nothing. More so, what you described are fight injuries, not frostbite or something caused by the weather. A cold wind doesn’t break your nose, Deep, a punch does.”
“As does a large block of ice or a rock that dislodged itself.” Deep had stood up and was almost shouting by the end, only to slump back into his seat a moment later. “I can’t accept that the last memory he has was of at least one of his companions trying to kill him. I want to see the good in ponies, not the evil. After I saw his injuries, I needed to figure out just what could have caused them. I’ve looked over just about every record we have on the Spires, but there isn’t a single recorded instance of anything living on them. I’m fairly sure I know exactly why he looks the way he does, I just don’t want to be right.”
Used to the sudden outbursts from his friend, Lucky Charms only gave him an indulgent little smile. “I don’t like that scenario either, but life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, Deep. Though, I said something did this, not a pony must have done this. Equis is full of creatures we know nearly nothing about, it’s quite possible that something lives on the Spires that got him before the Windigos did.” He thought for a second. “This would also explain why no one’s found the others by now.”
“I guess. I’ll look into any records of any amarok or akhlut in the area. I don't think anything less than one of them would have been able to survive on the Spires. I’ll also go back to the translator and see what else they’ve been able to get out of the journal.”
“Alright, I, however, prefer to read what we have to the end first. Typical of you, already demanding more when you haven’t read what's already been translated.”
“That's why I have you around. You read it and tell me what you found so I don’t have to.”
“Sounds just like our college years, I do the work while you earn the praise for it.”
With that, Deep Analysis began walking out of the room and back towards one of the libraries to find out what reports there were of animals living on the Spires while Lucky Charms went back to reading the translation. He was also thinking about heading over to the kitchen to grab something to eat, it was afternoon after all, and Deeps obsession with his work had caused him to miss out on lunch.
Author's Note
Thank you toAzure Drache for acting as a coauthor for this story. Go check out his stories as he is a cool guy and I'm also helping him with one of his stories.
