Seasonsby EquimortoChaptersAutumnSpringWinterSummerAutumnHe did not know where the bird had come from. Nor what kind of bird it was. Nor why, of all the rocks in the park, the bird had taken an interest in his eye specifically. Of course, he certainly was the most beautiful out of all those rocks, but he had his doubts about the bird's ability to discern beauty. Still, the bird was there. Moving closer and closer to him. Perhaps he wanted something? But what could a bird want from a rock? Surely, the feather-brained creature's eye had simply been caught by the polished, shiny surface of his beautiful eye, and he would- He'd picked him up. The accursed, despicable bird had taken him with his beak, and was flying with him away from the park. Oh, the insult of being handled like a common piece of stone. And the terrible, terrible consequences it would have on his return. Why, his servants needed to know exactly where every piece of him was, one of them being moved was a catastrophe. Although... Perhaps, yes, this was finally it! They had at last found a way to gather up his shards without arousing suspicions. Oh, it had to have been hard, training the bird like that. But it would be worth it. Why, yes, the bird had landed, and another was in front of it. Truly brilliant! A system of multiple flying creatures, all trained to gather him up and- The bird dropped him, and his eye rolled down a roof, to land in the middle of a street. That was no big deal though. No big deal. The day would come, eventually. He just needed to wait. Just wait. SpringHe was the Storm King. He was strong, powerful, smart, beautiful, and he most certainly wasn't talking about himself in third person. He had conquered Equestria once, and soon he would do it again. Ponies would relearn to fear his name, and those who had betrayed him would know his wrath. Because he was the Storm King, the greatest and most powerful ruler the land had ever known. Of course, it was moderately hard for his magnificence to transpire, as he was little more than a pile of rocks dispersed across the streets and parks of Canterlot. An inconvenience, to be sure. But not one impossible to overcome. His followers were everywhere, hiding among common ponies, and soon he would be resurrected in his full glory. That little colt, for example. He may have looked innocent, but it was clear to a careful eye that he was in fact one of his loyal servants. Fortunate then that it was exactly his eye that he was running towards. Certainly, he had spotted one of the pieces his King had been reduced to, and was now heading towards it to collect and unite it with the others and... The colt ran past the King's eye, heading to a group of foals playing in the park. He must have been worried about being spotted. Surely, he would come back that night, and with the cover of darkness collect a part of his rightful ruler and apologise for his earlier behaviour. All the King needed to do was wait. Just wait. WinterHe had never liked snow. It clung to his fur and got it all wet when he got back inside. It made it harder to see, and it slowed down the troops. He'd never make it snow on his kingdom once he had control over the weather. Only over his enemies. He didn't have control over the weather yet. Or a kingdom. Or fur. But he still hated snow. It buried him completely and made it impossible to see anything other than white. He'd hated it more and more with each passing winter, seven at that point. His troops, admittedly, did seem to be taking a while to find him. But it was clearly all part of the plan. They were gathering forces, training young recruits. Equestria would collapse on itself without anypony knowing how it had happened, and his loyal subjects would hand him the throne and the Princesses' powers on a silver platter. He did wish they'd at least make him aware of their plans. His ear had, unfortunately, gotten stuck on a roof overlooking the town's main square sometime a year before. This made winter even greater a torture, as it forced him to endure the daily seasonal chants of the population. Cursed ponies and their cursed songs. He would put them all on cart-pulling duty once he returned, see how willing they were to sing with a bit-gag in their mouths. And the day would come, soon. He just had to wait. Just wait. SummerHe did not recall the tall Princess being purple. And he never would have expected her to be the one who would put him back together. But it seemed, in fact, that his servants had truly gone above and beyond with their plan. She had found him, on the border of that road, after many a passing cart had pushed him there. She had taken him, brought him to the castle, and there showed him just how far the preparations for his return had come. His body, almost complete already, stood proudly in the gardens. The Princess herself, already, had gathered in her most of the powers of two others, and on top of that had put the fourth in charge of raising a fifth, so his return may see him even more powerful. All the time, she kept him close, showcasing to him the progress made towards his return. The ponies who had thwarted his plans the first time were aging, and would soon be too old and weak to fight back again. He, instead, would be young still. All other manners of things she showed him, too. New sources of power he could raid. New worlds he could conquer. New lands to put under his control, new creatures to subjugate. The leaders of the nations he would overtake, and what their relationship to his benefactor were, so that he may exploit them. All was almost ready. He just needed to wait a bit more, and then the Princess would resurrect him, and give him the throne. She knew what the best time would be, and most likely she was working on a way to deal with that annoying mish-mash of creatures who seemed to be the only one who could truly interfere with his plans. But the day would come eventually, and he just needed to wait. Just wait.
AutumnHe did not know where the bird had come from. Nor what kind of bird it was. Nor why, of all the rocks in the park, the bird had taken an interest in his eye specifically. Of course, he certainly was the most beautiful out of all those rocks, but he had his doubts about the bird's ability to discern beauty. Still, the bird was there. Moving closer and closer to him. Perhaps he wanted something? But what could a bird want from a rock? Surely, the feather-brained creature's eye had simply been caught by the polished, shiny surface of his beautiful eye, and he would- He'd picked him up. The accursed, despicable bird had taken him with his beak, and was flying with him away from the park. Oh, the insult of being handled like a common piece of stone. And the terrible, terrible consequences it would have on his return. Why, his servants needed to know exactly where every piece of him was, one of them being moved was a catastrophe. Although... Perhaps, yes, this was finally it! They had at last found a way to gather up his shards without arousing suspicions. Oh, it had to have been hard, training the bird like that. But it would be worth it. Why, yes, the bird had landed, and another was in front of it. Truly brilliant! A system of multiple flying creatures, all trained to gather him up and- The bird dropped him, and his eye rolled down a roof, to land in the middle of a street. That was no big deal though. No big deal. The day would come, eventually. He just needed to wait. Just wait.
SpringHe was the Storm King. He was strong, powerful, smart, beautiful, and he most certainly wasn't talking about himself in third person. He had conquered Equestria once, and soon he would do it again. Ponies would relearn to fear his name, and those who had betrayed him would know his wrath. Because he was the Storm King, the greatest and most powerful ruler the land had ever known. Of course, it was moderately hard for his magnificence to transpire, as he was little more than a pile of rocks dispersed across the streets and parks of Canterlot. An inconvenience, to be sure. But not one impossible to overcome. His followers were everywhere, hiding among common ponies, and soon he would be resurrected in his full glory. That little colt, for example. He may have looked innocent, but it was clear to a careful eye that he was in fact one of his loyal servants. Fortunate then that it was exactly his eye that he was running towards. Certainly, he had spotted one of the pieces his King had been reduced to, and was now heading towards it to collect and unite it with the others and... The colt ran past the King's eye, heading to a group of foals playing in the park. He must have been worried about being spotted. Surely, he would come back that night, and with the cover of darkness collect a part of his rightful ruler and apologise for his earlier behaviour. All the King needed to do was wait. Just wait.
WinterHe had never liked snow. It clung to his fur and got it all wet when he got back inside. It made it harder to see, and it slowed down the troops. He'd never make it snow on his kingdom once he had control over the weather. Only over his enemies. He didn't have control over the weather yet. Or a kingdom. Or fur. But he still hated snow. It buried him completely and made it impossible to see anything other than white. He'd hated it more and more with each passing winter, seven at that point. His troops, admittedly, did seem to be taking a while to find him. But it was clearly all part of the plan. They were gathering forces, training young recruits. Equestria would collapse on itself without anypony knowing how it had happened, and his loyal subjects would hand him the throne and the Princesses' powers on a silver platter. He did wish they'd at least make him aware of their plans. His ear had, unfortunately, gotten stuck on a roof overlooking the town's main square sometime a year before. This made winter even greater a torture, as it forced him to endure the daily seasonal chants of the population. Cursed ponies and their cursed songs. He would put them all on cart-pulling duty once he returned, see how willing they were to sing with a bit-gag in their mouths. And the day would come, soon. He just had to wait. Just wait.
SummerHe did not recall the tall Princess being purple. And he never would have expected her to be the one who would put him back together. But it seemed, in fact, that his servants had truly gone above and beyond with their plan. She had found him, on the border of that road, after many a passing cart had pushed him there. She had taken him, brought him to the castle, and there showed him just how far the preparations for his return had come. His body, almost complete already, stood proudly in the gardens. The Princess herself, already, had gathered in her most of the powers of two others, and on top of that had put the fourth in charge of raising a fifth, so his return may see him even more powerful. All the time, she kept him close, showcasing to him the progress made towards his return. The ponies who had thwarted his plans the first time were aging, and would soon be too old and weak to fight back again. He, instead, would be young still. All other manners of things she showed him, too. New sources of power he could raid. New worlds he could conquer. New lands to put under his control, new creatures to subjugate. The leaders of the nations he would overtake, and what their relationship to his benefactor were, so that he may exploit them. All was almost ready. He just needed to wait a bit more, and then the Princess would resurrect him, and give him the throne. She knew what the best time would be, and most likely she was working on a way to deal with that annoying mish-mash of creatures who seemed to be the only one who could truly interfere with his plans. But the day would come eventually, and he just needed to wait. Just wait.
