Amidst the Howling Dark

World of Harmony

Equestria was the world's name, its species numerous. De'mah learned that he was in the presence of members of the Griffon species, of the state of the Griffon Empire, and that they lived in mutual benevolence with the people of the Kingdom of Equestria, populated also by a species of quadrupeds. Beyond them were the dragons of the Badlands, and at last De'mah was interested.

"Tell me of them" he asked his interpretor, a Griffon by the name of Gernhar. Over the course of the night Gernhar had helped De'mah through a crash course of their language, and De'mah had learned quickly. He would still need to study, but his grasp of their tongue grew more confident by the hour.

"A devillish species. Brutes, really. They'll fight one another at the drop of a hat."

"Dropping one's hat is such a sign of disrespect?" De'mah asked, and Gernhar shook his head.

"It's an expression. You'll learn in time. The dragons are fighters; they want to fight all the time. I really must advise you to stay away from them, should you see one. I always hate travelling through these badlands with those scaly devils flying about."

A warrior race? Intriguing. Despite Gernhar's warning, De'mah found himself wanting very much to talk with these dragons. "Have they any settlements? Any states? Allegiances?"

Gernhar scoffed. "Hardly. They're wanderers, nomads. They have their little hordes and hideouts, but you'll rarely find a group of them unless they're fighting. The sooner we're far from this desert, the better."

"And what of the Equestrians, this world's namesake?"

"A race of pacifists. Nothing like those dragons, the ponies all preach the ideals of peace and harmony. They're not without their strength, however. They're currently recovering from the reign of some twisted madcreature. Discord was his name, I believe. He ruled the Equestrians for years, perpetuating his chaos and disharmony. Nasty business, that" Gernhar said.

A race of weaklings. They could be safely ignored, De'mah was sure. "Tell me, have you ever heard of the Forerunners" he asked, and Gernhar looked at him.

"'Forerunners'? I'm afraid not. Are they your race? Come to think of it, I haven't asked where you are from yet."

"Worry not about it. If you've never seen the magnificence of the Forerunners then I'll not bother you with the details. Perhaps, in time, you'll come to learn about them another way."

After another few hours, Gernhar's caravan got back under way, parting with cordial goodbyes and leaving De'mah with the gift of their language. It was time for him to get on his own way, and seek out these dragons. If they lived in the badlands, as Gernhar had claimed, then it wouldn't be a particularly difficult matter to find them.

As De'mah went, he ruminated on what Gernhar had told him about his world, and how it had never known of the grace of the Forerunners. De'mah's instructions had been clear: if a world has no presence of their magnificence, it is worthless, but De'mah wondered about Equestria. Here was a whole planet teeming with intelligent life, some of them seemingly proud warriors. Would it not be beneficial to Sanghelios and the state of 'Tokam to learn about them? It might be that the Sangheili could benefit greatly from knowing the dragons.

Certainly they'd learn nothing from Equestria's other 'great' species. Its namesake. The ponies. Gernhar had talked at length about the kingdom and its princesses, and the idea that a state could be led to greatness by females was insulting to De'mah. Females were undoubtedly the lifeblood of a species, but they knew nothing of marshal prowess, and De'mah was convinced a state could not stand without strength. That they had created a state of their own could be explained by nothing more than circumstance and luck. It would fall, De'mah was certain of that.

The dragons, however, had no state, and De'mah found this most interesting. No state, no allegiances, no governance. He could only surmise that they survived on their strength and power, which begged the question: why did they not subjugate the other races? The strong always conquered the weak, it was a fact the Sangheili had learned long ago, and how their civilization had survived for so long.

A great shadow passed over De'mah in a flash and he looked up, catching sight of a magnificent and massive winged creature, soaring along the open sky. It hadn't seen him, or if it had it hadn't paid him any attention, and De'mah knew then he was laying eyes on his first dragon. Its scales were a brilliant topaz color, reflecting the day's high sun as it went. De'mah watched it until it disappeared from sight, his curiousity piqued.

"Day 29 of the seventh cycle, and I have made contact with an alien species. They call themselves Griffons, and their world is home to numerous other intelligent species. Most interesting of these are the dragons, a nationless race of proud warriors. I am currently endeavoring to seek them out, to understand how an intelligent race can survive without a state, and why such a strong people have not sought to crush the lessers of their world" De'mah said into his recorder. There was a copse of hills and small mountains not far ahead, with narrow passes and valleys strewn throughout. A perfect den for a dragon, if Gernhar's description could be trusted. De'mah picked a pass at random and entered, his gaze wandering along the high walls.

It was always a curious thing, the difference between the blazing heat of the expanse and the cool shade of the passes. It was one of his fondest memories of a whelp, navigating the cliffs of his native state, hunting the small vermin common to Sanghelios. The distant calls of some exotic creature, the invigorating relief from the scorching sun as he first entered a canyon, the sound of his breathing and the echos of his footfalls along the canyon walls. It was home, and he appreciated that this desert was so alike it.

The pass soon gave way to a secluded open space, gently sloping up. A few other passes led to destinations unknown, the opening populated only by some rocks and lizards. De'mah took a moment to pause, sitting upon one of the rocks and cracking open one of his ration packs.

He'd scarcely taken a bite when there was a sound of pebbles scattering, and De'mah turned to look. Loose rock and gravel skated down the face of a nearby wall, bouncing as they hit the ground. De'mah's gaze turned to see where the rocks had fallen from, and saw nothing. A lizard? A bigger creature? Simple shift of the earth?

As it was, De'mah didn't have time to postulate, as a creature almost as big as him dropped to the earth just beside him, and in a flash De'mah stood and ignited his energy sword, drawing his sword hand high and keeping the tips of the ethereal weapon pointed towards the ground. The blade's glow cast him in a haunting blue light as it reflected off the walls.

His mystery creature stood about the same height as him, covered in bronze scales from tip to toe, and at once De'mah recognized the creature as a dragon. Its eyes were a sharp ruby, and it bore what appeared to be a rather bemused expression, its body relaxed. Not an assailant, it seemed, and De'mah relaxed.

"Otdus, jeel nah oto badlands" the dragon spoke, its tone deep, bringing its clawed hands together. De'mah watched him warily, unsure of his intentions.

"Do you speak the Equestrian language?" De'mah barked, and the dragon nodded and smiled.

"Not a true outsider, you are. I ask, what brings you to our unforgiving badlands? You seem a hardy sort, but this land can catch one...unawares" the dragon said. "You come from Equestria?"

De'mah shook his head. "I come from a land much farther away, seeking the mighty dragons, to learn of their ways. I wonder how such a strong race could live without a state. I come to find answers about their supposed might."

"You seek the high lord? The high lord may not see you. He hasn't the time to entertain wanderers and outsiders" the dragon said.

"He will find the time, I am sure. I'll not leave without an understanding of your kind; the call of my honor demands it."

The dragon scoffed. "'He will find the time' says the outsider. Such an arrogance will bring a curse upon you, do not doubt it. Greater beings were struck down by the gods for lesser transgressions, outsider."

"Spare me. If you'll not aid me then I will simply find another, or find him myself. I'm a persistent Sang, it'll be an inevitability."

"Across this magnificent desert? Hardly. There are more caves across this land than there are stars in our heavens. If you are so insistent, then I will take you to the high lord. There's still no guarantee he'll see you, outsider, but that is your problem, not mine. Come" the dragon said, beckoning with a hand and turning to walk away.

The blade De'mah thought, casting his gaze upon his sword. A drawn blade cries for blood. To stow it without answering that call is a great dishonor. Whose blood would satisfy its cries, though? De'mah's? The dragon's? It would hardly do to bloody his new-found guide, but lightly pricking himself would not satisfy the blade's demands.

De'mah silenced the sword and returned its handle to his hip, shame welling up through him. He owed it a blood debt, and he swore then to repay it tenfold.