The Dark Mirror Saga: Book 1: The Tale of the Last Caribou

“Of course it does,” Twilight breathed out with mild annoyance. “And your sudden flare for theatrics explains this dark moment in your reign?”

“Why shouldn’t it? Even if he isn’t here to see it and knowing he would likely wring my neck for saying this, but it is a small honor I can still do that Oksho deserves. As much as he ended up hating and everything that passed between us, he was… remains an example that I could never follow or reach. Ironic, is it not? I have all the time in the world to at least try to increase my martial prowess but I’m stuck unable to change my situation.”

“Is that why you’ve never tried to spy on me whenever I leave or why I haven’t found any evidence of you searching a way out?” Twilight asked.

Dainn chuckled. “Oh, how I wish my Twilight had never been corrupted by the enchantment. I wonder now if she possessed that same fire you display, Not My Twilight. However, I made it clear already, have I not? As much as I despise this place, I shall not leave. Period. If I leave, what will happen? Worst case scenario, I’ll end up repeating this devastation. Best case, I’ll be free from this torment and whatever held partial control of my mind and I’ll die in peace. I am not stupid enough to believe the latter will ever come to happen.”

Twilight chuckled darkly, shaking her head slowly. “Funny, I can almost feel the need to applaud your conviction,” she estated, then sighed. “How did it happen? Ragnarok.”

“How indeed, Twilight. You see, remember the Buffalo? Propaganda built it up as a great, courageous victory that saw these rebellious savages broken and scattered. The truth couldn’t be further from the truth. While I was still recovering and preparing to head to the front lines, Ivangri moved on his own.”

“How so?”

“Why, by being the cowardly, backstabbing bastard that he was, of course,” Dainn had slowly returned to his seat and now he slumped on it, letting out a growl of frustration. “Oksho and his warriors were managing to hold against the Buffalo who, according to the reports I read, were fierce, magnificent warriors. I honestly thought Oksho would appreciate such a gesture… and I believe he would’ve were it not for Ivangri’s intervention.”

“Let me guess… Appleloosa?” Twilight muttered, eyes already narrowed in anger for what was about to assault her ears.

“As I mentioned, Appleloosa had been untouched and the Buffalo were protecting the town, preventing anything from reaching it through conventional means. So, Ivangri, summoning his vermin ancestry, sent four pegasi under the cover of night to see what they could find. What they found was a certain girl by the name of Little Strongheart, the Chief’s daughter. She was there for her own safety. What a cruel joke, don’t you think so?”

“Oh no… did they--”

“Rape her? Of course. But only after they took her to Ivangri. Poor… poor girl. All buffalo are remarkably stubborn and loyal to a fault, but she was beated, tortured, raped, and abused so much and for days on end that little by little she cracked. She slipped pieces of information here and there, until, after six days of this torment, Ivangri had everything he needed to counter the buffalo. He had their strategies, their doctrines, supply routes, where their hidden camps were, everything.”

“T-That’s just awful. Don’t you know that torture never works as an interrogating system!? At the end, the prisoner will say anything just to make the pain stop,” Twilight remarked, suddenly feeling the need to void her stomach again.

“I did. Ivangri? He didn’t care. Or rather, he knew and did it on purpose. The sadistic monster that he was, I’m willing to bet whatever I have of value left that he never truly cared about what Little Strongheart had to say as long as he could have an excuse to torture someone and make his cock stiff. Depraved lunatic,” Dainn said in a fit of fury. “But he had the information, and with it, used it against her tribe with devastating effect.”

“Meanwhile, I was finishing my healing treatment. My Twilight came to me, crawling, and offering her horn and wings willingly to me. I tried to apply the weight runes on her feathers, but she insisted to be sheathed ‘as a proper dumb slut should be’. I cut off her horn and sheathed her wings with as much care as I possibly could spare and then… I took her feathers, ordering a slave to fill a pillow with them. Her horn I took and placed it on my throne, finally making it full; a complete set of the four alicorn whores that fell against my might. Pathetic lies and propaganda.”

“If you hate it so much, allow me to destroy it. That nightmarish thing shouldn’t be allowed to exist,” Twilight offered, eyeing the throne that was simultaneously foreboding and infuriating to look at.

“Perhaps at another time. I require it as a testament to my actions. It is penance if that makes sense,” Dainn replied.

“You are frustratingly contradictory, Dainn. You wish to end your torment yet seek to perpetuate it, you hate yourself and your wretched species yet pity them for what they were. I would call you a hypocrite were it not for your earnest desire to at least do some good out of everything that’s happened,” said the lavender alicorn, offering Dainn a genuine smile.

“You are… far too good for your own sake you know that, Twilight Sparkle,” Dainn said, then hummed deeply. “Where was I? Ah, yes… the completion of my nightmarish throne and the rupturing of Ragnarok,” he stopped for a moment, his icy eyes finding a longing warmth that was almost unnatural to see reflected in those dead, cold eyes. “I was preparing to depart and oversee the battle against the buffalo when I first got the reports detailing what Ivangri had done… followed minutes later by a shout of anger cursing my name.”

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“DAAAAAINNNNN!” The shout penetrated and reverberated throughout the castle with fury, threatening to bring it down. I could hear it from my secure position around the large garden areas next to the pegasi chariot carts.

My attendants froze in fear and the turned ponies showed a disturbing amount of interest in what was about to happen. I didn’t let any partake in what was about to happen. “Everyone, leave. Now! I shall face my kingdom’s Champion alone.” Either loyalty or cowardice moved them as they left without hesitation. Seconds felt like hours until I could hear the heavy, angry steps that belonged to Oksho as he approached. How did he know where I was, I never figured that one out. When the ornamental doors leading to the landing and take-off areas of the chariots burst open via a powerful kick, a wave of heat washed over me. Oksho’s fury was intense as the raging fury of a volcano, yet contained still. He was holding his fiery sword while his cohort of chosen warriors marched behind their leader, mentor, and hero.

“Oksho--” I started, but I was not given the chance to continue.

“SHUT IT!” Oksho demanded, closing the distance between us with a singular leap that put him two meters in front of me. Oh, how magnificent he was. Taller than me by two full heads, bulging muscles with fire-red veins pulsating under his ashen skin and fur. His eyes were red like lava and his aura of heat was like the fires of a forge. “Do you know what that putrid coward has done? What he has cost my warriors and I!?”

“I do,” I replied, frowning. “I share your dissatisfaction, Oksho! I learned about his deeds mere moments ago! In fact, I was preparing to chastise him myself.”

“AND YOU STILL STAY YOUR HAND!?” Oksho said, fuming. I couldn’t blame him. “He has shamed me and my warriors! He had shamed our species! He robbed us of a glorious and true conquest! The buffalo were cunning and strong, loyal and tenacious yet warriors to their cores. Four of my warriors died a glorious death! IT WAS BEAUTIFUL!” He took a step forth, sword still in hand. I could see his warriors behind him. Silent. Watching.

He narrowed his eyes and I felt like I was about to soil my armor.

“And Ivangri ruined it. He snuck like a snake and tortured the Chief’s daughter for information. Then, he used it against them not as a strategy, but as poison to decimate them… the buffalo… they would’ve made excellent warrior slaves, Dainn. Now, they are gone… reduced to such a degree that they will never recover,” for a moment there, I saw just how much it hurt him. Not the deaths of the buffalo, but how they met their end was what made him pity a warrior tribe that he had come to respect. “This… this mockery of a victory is no victory at all. All Ivangri proved to all our future foes is that we have no honor: that we are cowards who would rather poison their drink and food before fighting as warriors must.”

“Not all are warriors,” I said bitterly, clenching my fists. “A victory comes in many shapes and forms. If underhanded tactics are required to win a conflict, then why protest against such measures? I agree that Ivangri’s actions were honorless, but he acted without my consent. That is why I must chastise him. I’m sorry, Oksho, but since the enchantment doesn’t work on non-ponies I--!”

“To Hel with your blasted enchantment!” He cried out, his aura increasing in intensity. “I knew you couldn’t be the King we needed, Dainn! Did Svarndagr ever tell you the truth about our species? What we are? By the Gods, I hated him. I hated him with an intensity that I cannot describe, but I respected him ten times that. And he had my admiration, too. For he whipped an entire species of raping, hedonistic, deranged, depraved, sex-obsessed, inherently perverted maniacs into one that could be loosely described as honorable and controlled.”

“...Yes… he told me,” I confessed. Fearing that saying otherwise would simply enrage him. My ex-mentor told me about the pitfalls of our species and how they were meant to be corrected and destroyed from within.

He spat, his fizzling saliva burning a spot of grass. “And yet we have to deal with the incompetence of a female replacing an even more incompetent female.”

“You dare insult me such, Oksho?” I asked softly. Not a threat or a warning. What would be the point?

“Oh please. Did you for a moment thought I would swallow the lie that you defeated a rampaging dragon in single combat and gained the submission of the last alicorn? I am not stupid nor incompetent. A female submitted herself to a beaten, bloody, humiliated male. What a shameful display, Dainn,” he said with disdain and repulsion. “Why do you try so hard to be something that you are not? Have you forgotten my own fate? Did you learn nothing? What am I asking… of course you didn’t,” he spat angrily, yet his voice was calm, collected… disappointed. “Good things never happen to heroes, Dainn. You never tried to save our kind because you cared or because you were power-hungry. Oh no. You did it because you wanted to be a hero, didn’t you?”

He was right. Spot on. My desire to save my species wasn’t purely out of disinterest. My own selection and closemindedness prevented me from pushing another more suitable weakling into the seat of power. But when I was cheered and selected, named and chanted… how could I say no to be seen not as the king, but as a hero?

“You disgust me,” Oksho kept going with his barrage of harsh reality. “My tribe used me as a weapon… one that they discarded once they had no use for it and feared to be cut by it,” he chuckled.

“...how did you learn the truth?” I asked, not bothering to hide my weakness in front of such a mighty, true warrior.

“You’d be amazed what some intuition and a swift use of ‘old school’ diplomacy can achieve,” he chuckled once more. “One kick was more than enough.”

I couldn’t help it. I chuckled, too. “Our greatest pride is our greatest weakness,” I commented.

“If I could get such information easily, how long before your Council filled with traitors and weaklings let your subjects know the truth?” Oksho replied, eyes glowing intently. “Not only that but bought loyalty is no loyalty at all. The Crystal Empire and Shining Armor are loyal because they gain what they need from Equestria. Once that stops being the case, what do you think will happen next?”

“Equestria is bountiful and fertile. We shall never face such calamity,” spoken like a true fool. “My Empire shall stand eternal.”

“Really? Then why does it dance around illusions? Parties are thrown every day, pointless celebrations and stupid contests spring like fleas on a malnourished rat. Where are all these resources coming from? How long can that last?”

“For as long as they are necessary so that everyone understands the glory of Male Superiority!” My voice was not my own. I had never believed in that to such an extreme, yet those words left my mouth with the fervor of a fanatic. “The pride of our species depends on it.”

“You speak of pride yet have none to give, sacrifice, or wound,” Oksho said, raising his sword until he was pointing it at me. “My pride, however, has been hurt. You are like a tiny pup barking at a warbeast because it can but that hides whenever danger is close. I am neither the pup nor the warbeast, Dainn. I am Oksho, Warrior. Simple as simply be.”

“My pride was hurt when I saw the depravity that overtook Appleloosa after the buffalo were defeated. I saw the enchantment work, how it twisted the ponies, how the mares begged and enjoyed being treated as garbage: the whippings, the beatings, the brandings, the bondage… things that a red collar doe spends years learning to enjoy and master, they did it not only with the same proficiency but with a genuine thirst for more. In those ponies and the turned that joined in… I saw something I cannot describe. Then, when I thought it couldn’t get worse,” he paused for a moment, gripping the hilt of his sword so tightly I couldn’t understand why it didn’t shatter.

“Stags fell into the same sway of indulgence and perversion. The captured female buffalo and the few mares that resisted the enchantment were raped without reprieve,” he gritted his teeth. “Many of those females lost their minds, Dainn. The turned and those scumbags I refuse to call caribou kept them as toys for pleasure, not even as slaves just… reduced to objects. They did things I dare not speak about… and stags joined them. Willingly. The buffalo males were all switched. All of them. To the last one, and raped, too. The depravity was such that they were seen as nothing more than holes to fuck and ruin. It was like seeing the depths of mindless, savage, lust-driven beasts my tribe devolved into all over again, but worse.”

I was speechless, not knowing that such a thing had happened. And yet… I didn’t doubt him. Oksho would never lie even if it cost him his life, he’d never lie.

“So, Dainn… I’ve come to tell you two things… the first, is that this is the final straw for me… not only have you proven to be unfit for the crown in all senses, but you are unfit to even be a male,” with a snarl, he smiled wickedly and a pulse of fire and heat radiated from his body. “And the second, a warning. The enchantment is only working on ponies. You know this. You’ve seen it. Why is that? How can something so flawed be relied on? Even a massive dickless fool like you should know better than use something so untrustworthy,” with a hum and a chuckle, he continued. “Actually… it seems I lied. I have one more thing I want to tell you, Dainn.”

I took a step back, thinking he was about to strike me. Then I realized that wasn’t the case. Why would he warn me and then strike me down? I wish he had done so.

“My final lesson to you. If you are so desperate to be a hero-” with a swift movement of his hand, his sword, his prized Surtalog, was now pointing its fiery edge against his chest right above his heart. “-THEN DIE LIKE ONE!”

The shout nearly deafened me and even pushed me back a little, but my eyes were wide open when Oksho plunged Surtalog into his own chest, piercing his heart and spluttering the ground not with blood… but with molten iron. Oksho’s smile vanished as his expression turned into pure rage. His armor and clothes burned, his fur became like volcanic ash, his feet cracked to reveal red embers glowing where muscles and bones should be. He withdrew his sword from his chest, clean and untouched by either blood or fire, and bellowed a single furious cry.

“Jeg er Surtr. Bringeren av Ragnarok.”

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“That’s… I have no words…,” Twilight muttered as her mind reeled from hearing such a retelling. “What do those words mean? I’ve never heard such a language before in my home dimension.”

“I honestly don’t even know the name of our native tongue. We simply knew it is ‘The Rune-speak’, I always hated it. It sounded so… wrong to speak it for some reason. Once I started to learn Ponish, I dedicated myself to it fully. Much simpler and with a wider range of expressions,” Dainn chuckled. “But I digress. What he said roughly translates as ‘I am Surtr. The Bringer of Ragnarok’. And bring it he did.”

“H-How did he survive piercing his own heart? I can’t wrap my heart around it. He wasn’t an immortal, was he?” Twilight asked but instead of an immediate answer, she got Dainn tilting his head to the side, his icy eyes peering into her curiously. “Is something wrong?”

“Perhaps?” Came his reply. “You have not shown much emotion or reacted too intensely to the suffering and torment of your fellow ponies and allies, Twilight. I find that lack of reaction… warning?”

Twilight’s eyes darkened as she offered the stag a smile. “What’s the point of me commenting on that anymore? Isn’t it better to continue your story and let me absorb whatever lessons I can glimpse from it? What would call you out bring me anymore?”

“I am relieved,” Dainn sighed, “for I was starting to fear you have grown dejected to such suffering, but now I see you have merely fortified your mind as much as you could. Commendable! Perhaps there is hope yet for you to grow strong and face evils such as what my species wrought?” He didn’t wait for the alicorn to reply and instead allowed himself a simple chuckle. “As for your question, Oksho wasn’t the kind of stag to die by merely stabbing his heart. Svarndagr did so during their duel and so did Oksho stab his heart. They were simply too stubborn to die from such flesh wounds. And no, they were not immortals. Powerful mortals, indeed, but not immortals. Svarndagr’s search for a successor wasn’t enough proof of it?”

“Too stubborn to die? Oh, gosh, that sounds like something Sunset tends to say,” she grimaced, suddenly finding what her friend told her about that particular phrase applying perfectly to Oksho and Dainn’s old mentor like a glove. “And here I thought Luna had anger management issues. After hearing about Oksho, I think Luna is just a grumpy cat in comparison. Although, that brings up an excellent point. For as terrible as Nightmare Moon was, she never killed anypony. Scared and injured several ponies? Sure. but never truly harmed anyone, much less so killed. All she wanted was love and recognition.”

“Oh, please,” Dainn resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “she didn’t kill anyone because you stopped her. Nightmare Moon wanted to cause an eternal night over Equestria, stopping the cycle of the moon and sun. Watch outside to see the consequences of seeing half the world under a perpetual scorching sun and the other half shoved into a perpetual, cold night. If the weather didn’t kill them, then surely famine would,” he said, pointing out such results as if they were obvious.

Twilight merely nodded. “I know. I’m not as innocent as I appear to be, Dainn. That’s why she was stopped. I once visited another dimension -completely by accident, mind you- where Nightmare Moon ruled. I didn’t see much, but things were certainly… starting to look bad, very bad,” shaking her head, she pointed a finger at him. “But even so, that only makes Oksho’s actions worse in the end.”

“Why and how?” Dainn retorted. “Oksho unleashed Surtr, but Surtr isn’t Oksho. Rather, Surtr is a product of Oksho’s tarnished pride and warrior’s honor. His very spirit and soul were wounded, thus, he retaliated in the hope of ending the perversions he had seen once in his own tribe. If anyone’s at fault for that, it is me. Yet Surtr isn’t a mindless beast that sees only objectives to destroy.”

“Hmmmm, you do have a point there. But how could any innocent escape his wrath, then? How the hay did you survive?” Twilight conceded, then asked with a raised brow.

“When he burst, the energy and heatwave pushed me away. I thought I was going to die, but then Surtr simply turned to his right and began walking away, leaving a trail of fire behind him,” Dainn raised his left arm to reveal the singular permanent burn scar left on his withered palm. “This is all Surtr did to me and what saved my left eye when he was unleashed. I got up and followed him from a distance. The alarms went off and guards began to appear left and right, even the garrison was mobilized as Surtr tore through their files without mercy.”

“He bellowed in fury, rage, hatred, and anger, chanting curses and repeating that he was the bringer of Ragnarok. I didn’t notice it at first, but Surtr had slowly grown from Oksho’s already considerable bulk and size to become a veritable giant four meters tall. Slightly over a meter taller than Oksho,” Dainn said, showing both awe and fear through his dead voice. “Magic bounced right off against his body, each swing of his sword cleaved right through guards, soldiers, and warriors with ease. The turned died with a smile on their faces and those that didn’t die immediately merely cried out in pain and ecstasy. The caribou that dared step in his way were also cut down, but not everyone met that fate.”

Twilight hummed, rubbing her chin. “Did he, by any chance, manage to tell those who were innocent from the guilty ones?”

“Indeed. The stallions that were declared incurable had simply knelt for one reason or another he shoved away. He also never hurt a single black collar female and was even able to detect which red collar females were merely pretending for their own safety and also spared them. The rest? They were slaughtered,” he chuckled again, his haunting noise echoing in the chamber.

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The cries of those dying could be heard across the castle and those that chose to run only prolonged their life for a few moments. Surtr was a whirlpool of death and righteous fury, shouting in rune-speak all manner of profanities and damning the caribou as weaklings and fools. His objective was clear, though. When Ivangri showed up to face Surtr, the coward tried using a bow and arrow. ‘Ansikt meg feig’, he bellowed. Face me, coward!

“Why should I face a monster!?” Ivangri declared as several caribou and ponies also prepare to fire at Surtr from an elevated position. I was watching from afar, unnoticed by anyone except two black collar maids who clung to me for protection, for some reason. The fact that I was the king of the species that brought their nation to the ground and put it under our hooves was lost to them when seeing Surtr in the flesh. “LOOSE!”

A storm of arrows landed on Surtr, or would’ve if most arrows hadn’t burned to ash and molten metal before striking his black, red-hot pulsating flesh. “Brenne,” Surtr said, and with a swing of his sword a torrent of fire washed over the archers that had dared attack him. Most of them burned and were reduced to ashes in under a second, they couldn’t even scream. Of course, Ivangri, the rat that he was, ran away as he fired two more arrows at the enraged monster.

“I always knew you were weak, Oksho! That’s right! I know what you really are! I’ve always known! Svarndagr wasn’t as intelligent or brilliant as he thought he was! He could never see the glory of true Male Superiority! Just like you!” The bastard gloated even as he shoved past warriors in the hope of getting away.

Surtr didn’t respond to his insults and threats. Why would he care about the words spoken by a walking corpse? He simply carved his way through guilty fools and spared those deserving of his mercy. “Falle,” Surtr said before driving his sword into the ground, creating a short-lived earthquake that made almost everyone stumble and fall as he had commanded. I nearly fell by was aided by an unlikely source: one of Oksho’s warriors.

“Watch, unworthy king. Watch as the festivities unfold!” He said, only then noticing he was Oksho’s first warrior and his most fervent follower. “I will not allow you to avert your eyes from this glorious display!”

I wanted to protest but a cry of anguish and terror that could’ve only come from a female caught my attention. I wasn’t surprised to see Ivangri on the ground after falling from higher ground; the origin of the shout, no doubt. The warriors laughed at his cowardly display, tears brimming out their eyes when they saw Ivangri crawl back in fear, demanding turned and other caribou soldiers to die in his stead. None approached.

“Wait! Wait! Oksho, listen to me! I can give you anything you want! Females, coins, anything you want! I’ll even give you my position!” The coward pleaded until his back was against a wall. As if that would spare him.

Surtr raised his blade but then stopped for some reason. I thought he was considering his offer but then he kicked a warhammer at him. Surtr was silent as he glared at Ivangri. The snake stared at the weapon in disbelief, only to then grin and throw a concealed dagger right at Surtr’s face. The dagger pierced his right eye, but nothing came out of his mouth. Ivangri thought that would buy him the element of surprise as he lunged for the hammer and in a swirl, he struck Surtr’s right knee.

The smile on his face died when he saw his attacks had done nothing to Surtr except enrage him further. He had wanted to give Ivangri the decency of at least showing some honor in a duel. Instead, he had backstabbed him the moment he saw an opening. “Aere!” He yelled and swung his sword down in a flash of movement.

Before I knew it, his right arm was flying through the air and his shoulder was burning, cauterizing his wound instantly.

“GAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” Ivangri cried out, tears falling from his eyes as he rolled on the ground, yelling in pain. The laughter of the warriors was almost contagious even though I couldn’t understand why they were laughing at first. But when Surtr caught Ivangri’s arm and then reduced it to ash with a single squeeze, I understood. To them, seeing Surtr was both a tragedy and a glorious celebration. They would watch their leader and mentor do what he needed to do without interference. They would watch and laugh as justice and retribution came down on those deserving of it.

“Bwahahahahahaha! Look at that worm squirm!”

“Ivangri the Great? More like Ivangri the Spineless!”

“A coward shall always be a coward!”

His warriors jeered even as Surtr removed the dagger from his eye, revealing it had done no damage before it melted to slag. He was about to strike Ivangri down but thought better of it and instead simply opened his mouth and unleashed a torrent of fiery embers and ash on him.

The screams of Ivangri were monumental and guttural. The embers were like sparks of molted metal that dug into his flesh and burned him terribly, sometimes furing leather with skin and fur given how hot those flames were. Either satisfied or because something else caught his attention, Surtr snarled before running off to the side. The reason became clear as a warbeast entered the room only to be decapitated by Surtr alongside its rider. He then ran down the hallway, bellowing with fury while I was shoved out of the way by the first warrior.

They didn’t give me any credit or further consideration. They only laughed, following the wreckage their transformed leader left in his wake.

I could only sit there, unmoving, hearing the cries of battle getting further and further away from me. I turned to Ivangri, who was still screaming in pure agony and I admired the carnage that had been unleashed and it was only then that the smell of burning flesh, whatever was not reduced to ash, that is, hit me and I vomited. It was a horrid smell I had never smelt before. The smell of death was no new to me, but that had been something worse. If only I knew I would come to know worse things, I would’ve stopped right there and then.

Regardless, I ran away to my chambers, worried that the commotion had somehow reached my pets. My travel was a blur, I do not recall anything. When I arrived, they were there, waiting for me, though they didn’t have a choice on the matter.

“What’s happening out there?” Luna asked, eyes glaring but doing nothing else.

“M-Master? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Celestia mouthed, still not quite broken but no longer defiant.

“It does not concern you but… it is a problem I’ll have to deal with later. And I’m-... I’m fine, Celestia. You don’t need to worry about me,” I replied, trying hard to not let my eyes stay too long on her. Despite my shock, her body and figure were most appealing, but I had self-control and focus. I also allowed my act to drop for just a moment. I was too shaken by what had happened. “Your concern is not needed nor desired, females. I need to retrieve my weapon and stop Oksho… after I form a proper strategy to face him.”

“Sounds to me like you’re hiding,” Luna pointed out with a cocky, mocking grin. “Let me guess, too much for the mighty Dainn to handle without treachery and deception?”

“Do you wish to spend a week under the caring hands of Hrarth with my complete approval?” I threatened, glaring back at the insulting alicorn. Despite her defiance, that shut her up nice and quickly. Though I wouldn’t be so cruel to her even if she kept taunting me. “His training is quite effective, yet restrained. Surely, you do not plan to offend me again, do you?”

“N-No… my Master,” Luna replied, sinking in defeat.

“Master is so generous and forgiving!” Celestia called out, smiling widely. “Thank you for being gentle with my sister, my King and Master.”

“She is fortunate I have actual important things to concern myself with,” I replied, grabbing my warhammer. I left my room quickly, my guards weren’t even present there anymore. They were either dead or had fled once the rampage started. I never knew what happened to them. I had only made it to the end of the hallway when the Spirit appeared in front of me again. “What do you want this time, Spirit!? Can you not see I am in a hurry? I have no time to dwindle with your enigmatic gibberish.”

“You see my form yet avoid my words. Deaf and blinded or just ignorant and decadent? Paths are many yet you seek but one, ash and blood with a dead world in sight. And end not to be and yet formed with steps. Avoid! Avoid! You can still walk away, let not the dark voices win, cold and heartless are the whispers in your ears,” it said, pointing a finger at me.

“You were right, I’ll grant you that! My actions have brought Surtr to seek destruction and set my empire in a blaze of fire. But I can stop him… I must stop him… there… there has to be a way to stop him,” I countered. How I wish those words had never left my mouth. How I wish I had died or submitted to the will of the Spirit. But like a fool, I only cared about my personal glory and so-called duties. “I don’t have the strength to stop such a beast… unless… unless I take what its mine. It should be okay… it’s only magic, after all.”

“Desist,” the Spirit ordered with a booming voice that it had only used a few times before. Remembering it chills my bones to this day. Why was I so arrogant? “You not know what you speak nor care not for the consequences it may bring. Power taken is not power gained; what belongs to the soul is for that soul alone; poison, demise, falsehood, and pain. You bring down the hammer but strike at air. Take and steal, rob and plunder; smite and punishment you shall receive. Seek not what belongs to others, attain your own or you shall find that horns are but tips, not a source.”

“ENOUGH WITH YOUR CRYPTIC BULLSHIT!” I shouted in fury, swinging my hammer at the Spirit, doing nothing. “My palace is under siege, Surtr has been unleashed, and my subjects are in danger! I am King Dainn, and I shall take what I want, for I am the Alpha Male now! Not Svarndagr, not my Council, not Oksho. ME! ME! ME! If I can take it, it belongs to me! Conquest is our right; the strong dominate and rule, the weak serve and obey!”

“Blind and stupid or merely ignorant? The puppet doesn’t know the strings that make it move. Sad. Sad. Sad. Do as you will, oh great fool. Turn and desist, stop and wither or see damnation is unleashed.”

“Confound that damnable Spirit,” I said after the Spirit vanished. I did not listen, I didn’t want to. In the end, my choice was made. If I wanted any chance to beat Surtr, I had to get stronger, but how? The answer was in front of me the whole time. “Of course… it’s so obvious… hmmm, but how will I do it?”

I spent the next day waiting to see the outcome of Surtr’s rampage, but to my surprise, Surtr didn’t lay waste to Canterlot. He simply fled. Where or why? I wouldn’t know for a long time. Yet he had caused serious damage in various places and had killed over two thousand creatures as he fled. When I finally declared my intention to wait and find a way to stop Surtr, Vestri was outraged that I took such a cowardly decision, but I merely invited him to face Surtr himself and see what would happen. That shut him up quite readily. When the meeting was adjourned, I saw Ivangri once more aided by two soldiers… with a casket covering his groin.

I raised an eyebrow. “Ivangri? Are your wounds healed?” I asked innocently, not letting him know I saw his ‘duel’ with Surtr. I’ve seen it all, so why was he wearing a casket there?

“My wounds have been… mitigated to some extent, although, my back and hips took a greater toll from my fall when that beast made the earth shake,” he replied with a glare. “Maybe my body isn’t completely healed, but my mind is. I wish to aid you, my king, in the capture and execution of that honorless traitor and monster. It is a wonder why Svarndagr kept him for so long. Perhaps he needed a vicious pet,” he mocked in anger.

“Despite everything, Ivangri, Oksho has always shown to be the greatest of our warriors. Insult him again, and I shall see to it myself that you’ll lose your other arm,” I threatened, genuinely pissed. I think he actually caught the message and honesty in my words and took a step back.

“But… he’s a traitor, my liege.”

“How can he be a traitor when he never swore allegiance to me? As for Surtr, well, there’s little we can do against him. We still don’t know where he is running to or what his intentions are,” I sighed, then I looked around, confused. “Speaking of vicious pets, where is your crowning pet, Ivangri? You never go anywhere without her.”

He scoffed and I saw a glint of fear in his eyes. “I got bored of her. Bitch only knew how to scream and curse at me. I sent her to her brother, the magnificent Macintosh. I’ll let him handle his rowdy slut of a sister in my stead.”

Bullshit. However, I knew not at the time the truth, but I would soon. “I am surprised to hear such a decision coming from your mouth, Ivangri. But I shall respect that decision since she was your possession. Now, go and heal. I will need you for what’s to come. Do not allow him to wander until after he can walk on his own again,” I ordered his soldiers, who only nodded in response.

I heard him grumble but obeyed. He didn’t want to risk his chances after the threat I issued against him. I made my way to my room, ready to relax and sleep for the day. When I arrived at the hallways leading to my chambers, I saw two new guards and a red-colored pegasus mare. I instantly recognized her as one of the prizes that belonged to Oksho. I walked up to her as she knelt silently. “Brave and foolish of you to remain here after what your master has done.”

“I hold no love for Oksho, nor for the caribou. I volunteered to deliver this message to you, king, as a testament to Oksho’s honor. For as much I despise your race, I admire his code and honor. Now, am I free to go or am I to die here?” She stated holding no respect towards me or even cared if she lived or died. She only had a stretched-out hand holding a simple envelope. I took it and then smacked her as hard as I could, sending her tumbling to the floor.

“That is for what your master did. However, you are a mere cunt. Leave, now. And never show your face again or you shall suffer greatly,” I declared. The mare spat some blood, stood up, and walked away without muttering a single cry or word. “Escort her out and do not allow anyone to take her. She is free to go. Do it.”

“My King!” The guards said, then left. Honestly, both of them? I only needed one to go. But I didn’t really care that much.

I entered my room, sat down on my desk, and read the letter.

My laughter echoed inside my room for hours.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Okay… that’s a lot to take in. But did you seriously have to hit that poor mare, Dainn?” Twilight asked, glaring. “I mean, you were never exactly a knight in shining armor, no pun intended, but at least you weren’t as cruel. You were downright forgiving and gentle and treated females right. Ginna, for example, comes to mind right away. What changed? Playing roles? The pressure of running a kingdom? Power getting to your head?”

“Honestly? All of them and then some,” Dainn confessed with great remorse. “Acting uncaringly or being cruel to females had always been just that… an act on my part before that point. That was the first time in my life I actually struck a female because I wanted to and less because I had a cover to play. I guess… trying to be the King my people and subjects could accept as the unshakable foundation of my empire got into my head, winning over without me realizing it,” confessed the caribou king, his emotionless tone giving way to apathy. “I was such an arrogant, blind, stupid fool. Still am, in some regards. Nopony saw the real me. Especially not Celestia and Luna, but at that point, I think the real me was long gone; replaced by a lackluster pawn.”

“I can tell. Oh, trust me, I can tell!” Twilight yelled, shaking her head and pinching her bridge. “Although I must admit, I am intrigued by what that mare gave you. I don’t suppose you recall the entire context of the letter?”

“I could give you a rundown version,” Dainn admitted. “Or, I could give you this and let you read it yourself,” as he said that, he extended his left arm. A small black tear appeared above his open palm and a moment later a pristine, magically bound letter came out of it. While it wasn’t new, since it showed a few tears and wrinkles, it was otherwise in excellent condition. “It was one of the few things I managed to save, alongside Celestia’s… gift. Please, take it, and read it.”

Twilight snatched it with her magic and brought it to her hands. Unfolding the three perfectly stacked pages, she cleared her throat as she began reading the first page.

“To Dainn, so-called weakling King and honorless doe

From: Ashukath, First Warrior of Okho’s Warrior Host.

Greetings and goodbye, Dainn. I shall not call you our King for we no longer have one. Much less you. However, honoring Oksho’s actions and following in the steps of Surtr, we renounce you and your authority. We are now in open rebellion and act upon the Way of the Warrior, as it is intended for true caribou to follow. We took our belongings and prizes with us. Do not seek us out unless you are willing to die in glorious combat.

With pleasantries shared, I am here to inform you of an event that you may have been ignorant of. If you see Ivangri, the scoundrel and the rat, before receiving this letter, do not believe his claims on his rather lamentable condition. Lamentable in the sense that nothing worse happened to him. We, however, know the truth. Regardless, this is what lead to his condition. Before he was rescued and healed, his slave and trophy, Applejack, came wandering to see what the commotion was about. At first, we thought she was there to aid her master, but when she saw him, in pain and demanding for aid, she approached him.

I do not boast nor approve of a mare acting against her betters, us males. But Ivangri is no male. He is a beast, an animal. Loathe as I am, I applaud what Applejack did. When Ivangri saw her, he damned her aid. I am sure that you are aware of the game Ivangri loves to play, yes? A one-sided struggle against an opponent that can hardly fight back, all in the name of feeling superior and to humiliate his opponent further. It was always an odd display, to see a female and a dickless male struggle in such a futile, fixed game with no honor to be gained.

Then again, Ivangri never had any honor to speak off. No amount of Svarndagr’s punishments ever fixed that.

But now that she was unbound and he was at the mercy of others? She had none to give to the stag that had raped, humiliated, and abused her so many times. His trick was a simple one, you see: a well-timed kick to the back of a mare’s hindleg, directly at her joint, would force any pony mare to bend her leg and lose balance, giving him the upper hand. To anyone with no combat experience, the kick was nothing more than a gentle tap to show the weakness of a mare. To those versed in the way of combat and that of the Warrior? We saw the truth. A most dishonorable and cowardly trick that befits a poisonous snake that eats the shit it spills.

Ivangri was never brave, he could never be. Honor is like poison to him. And that was his downfall.

I ask a simple question: what is the most honorable job to be done? The answer is agriculture. To tend the earth, to cultivate, to nurture life-granting food. Unusual, isn’t it? Oksho always put such a high value in his lessons and discipline on mere farmhands. He had been one himself, after all. His lessons always revolved around the contempt towards cowardice, to seek honorable fights, to do honorable deeds, to seek a beautiful death, finding worthy opponents, and how to dictate your life with self-control and rigorous training, and his countless advises on how to enjoy life itself outside combat.

You may ask yourself, but why a farmhand? Why is so honorable for a warrior that claimed so many lives to talk about such a simple, contradicting life? Simple yet again: being a farmhand is tough. It builds character, the body, the mind, and the soul. Anyone can gain much from such a life. Take that away and what remains? Fat and lazy idiots that delegate such crucial and honorable work to unqualified mares and some stallions to rein them in. Oksho said that Svarndagr would’ve never allowed such a thing to happen.

We agree with that view, for we have seen such effects appearing and spreading. We wish not to be a part of that. However, what does this have to do with Applejack and Ivangri? The answer comes.

Applejack, you see, was a farmhand. An outstanding one at that. Did you know that she literally kicked trees filled with fruits called apples to make them fall? She kicked trees, Dainn. She kicked trees for a living, like her brother, Macintosh.

Now, imagine this. You see Applejack standing ten or so meters from Ivangri. She says nothing, not even a curse while the coward cries out, demanding aid. You see Applejack tense her long, muscular, toned legs that put to shame most warriors and that could match mine. Muscles ripple and you can almost hear her skin nearly tearing as she prepares for something.

Then, like a projectile, she lunged forth; heavy steps marked by hooves clang against the ground leaving miniature craters with each step. Her thighs clench, her buttocks tighten, and she comes to a single stop, balancing on her right leg. Her left hoof connects with Ivangri’s stomach, making vomit but instead of launching away, the quick lifts him up, getting him back on his hooves for a moment, but that moment is all she needs.

With a twirl and a masterful roundhouse maneuver, she puts her left leg down and pulls back her right leg as back as she can, nearly creating a perfect standing split. Her muscles clenched even further, and then it happens.

In a flash, Applejack deliver a kick so strong that Svarndagr himself would’ve approved and applauded. Ivangri let out a silent scream as his cock and balls were kicked with an intensity that made him remember the many chastisements that he had received in the past by the one deserving of the title of King. I feel no shame as I admit I and my brothers compliment her wonderfully delivered kick. The first mare to ever achieve such a thing.

Of course, as you know, Ivangri was no stranger to finding legs hitting his groin. While his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he whimpered on the ground like the weak, honorless coward that he is, he didn’t pass out despite the pain he was experiencing. Sadly, before Applejack could unleash more kicks, medics and soldiers arrived and we left as she assumed a submissive position with a wide smile on her face.

We left that place laughing boisterously, many of us couldn’t contain our tears and we even allowed our prizes to laugh to their heart’s content. Who would not enjoy such a show?

It is with this that I end this retelling, for brother Bromir has arrived and he is shaken. I laughingly told him that he missed quite the party. He replied that he had been at a party, one he wished he had not attended.

This section is written against the wishes of my brothers. This shame is one I shall carry but I believe that Oksho would want you to know, honorless king. Bromir had a great black coat on his back, when he returned, it was pale white. His eyes were wide, unseeing yet witnessing. He didn’t tell us what he saw. He was sane, coherent, yet traumatized to a point that I do not know how to describe. He was traumatized by something he saw happen in a secret meeting he stumbled upon at that party.

He spoke of horrible things that no one should ever see. Never gave specifics, never shared more than ‘YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW’ over and over. The most puzzling thing happened when he saw his two prizes. He lunged at them… and hugged them gently while he was trembling like a scared calf. He kept crying, saying he was sorry, begging them to forgive him, and swearing he would never engage in anything even remotely related to sexual activity ever again.

I know you are ignorant of our ways, but such a thing would’ve caused Oksho to kill him on the spot. To show such weakness. But to us? It terrified us. What had he seen to cause such a reaction in a warrior of our order? What had been so terrible? Well, one of his prizes asked him to tell her. He whispered something to her, no more than one, maybe two short phrases. She went on her knees and vomited. She would not tell us what Bromir told her. Saying we were better not knowing. She then knelt and pulled Bromir down with her, setting his head on her lap while she comforted him. She was also terrified but had handled her shock by going into full therapy mode, doing her best to help and tend to her Master as much as she could, for what he had lived through had been much, much worse than what he told her.

Sympathy. Such a strange thing to see be given so willingly by a female made a prize. But, then again, who are we to judge when Bromir lost everything but his sanity? By the Gods, I wish he had lost his sanity too because seeing him tears our hearts apart. We want our brother’s soul back.

We could not reject him, our brother. Not after seeing his condition. How could we? We are warriors, not monsters.

And now, I end this letter. A warning has been given out of my own fear and implore you to investigate this issue. Bromir said nothing, except for a single name. You can start there. The name he mentioned and the only piece of information I can give… is that of Cadance.

Goodbye, Dainn. May your reign perish in flames, for the alternative is something we do not wish upon you.

Swallow a cock.”

“...I can see Applejack doing that alright,” Twilight chuckled and set the third paper down, giving them back to Dainn who then returned them to wherever he had taken them from. “How hard was her kick? I’m genuinely curious.”

“About as a fifth the strength of Svarndagr. When he hit Ivangri with just enough restraint to not kill him outright, he was in the infirmary for a whole month. After the kick Applejack delivered onto him, he was in it for a week. This is not me trash-talking or undermining Applejack’s strength. Quite the contrary, in fact. To come to simulate Svarndagr’s strength, even if it was just a fraction is already commendable. What she did was extraordinary… and fun. I laughed so hard that day.”

“I can’t say I blame you. Fuck your council,” she chuckled darkly before shaking her head slowly. Her throat felt dry, not because she hadn’t drunk anything in quite some time, but because of what she was about to say. “Did you… learn what Bromir saw at some point?”

“Yes. That and more. So much more. Tell me, Twilight, what do you think he saw? As an erudite, what do you think is the most likely answer?” Dainn asked, narrowing his gaze.

She sighed, nausea forming in her stomach. “Given that Cadance was involved, correlating the things you dropped here and there regarding the depravity that was reached, and the evidence I’ve found upon my arrival to this horrid dimension… I can say with confidence that he saw acts of sexual intercourse and excess so great and disturbing that it put him through a flash trauma and… at the center of it was Cadance, either guiding everything or as a centerpiece.”

Dainn blinked, surprised. “Excellent guess, Twilight. Not quite… the same, but close enough. And that word you used. Excess. Curious. Curious. Quite curious you used it to describe something you’ve only theorized on,” Dainn nodded and sighed tiredly. “Let me tell you a little fable. There once was a bunny who loved to eat carrots, they were its favorite food. The bunny wanted to eat them every time he could get them, but there was a problem, carrots were rare and thus, a luxury. Not to mention he had countless brothers, sisters, and other bunnies to fight with just to get a bite. One day, the bunny came across an old hag and the bunny helped the hag by picking some flowers she needed. In exchange, the hag would grant the bunny one wish. The bunny wished to eat carrots every day and so, the hag granted him that wish. The next morning, every plant, root, and bush around its home was now replaced by carrot orchards. It was a dream come true! At first, the bunny and everyone else was happy because they could eat juicy carrots.”

“But then,” his voice turned somber and icy, a finger raised in warning, “the bunnies became thin and weak. No matter how much carrots they ate, they were getting weaker and weaker. One by one the bunnies perished until only the bunny that made the wish remained. With his last strength, the bunny blamed the hag, thinking she had tricked them. The hag simply replied: ‘I granted your wish, is it not what you wanted?’”

Twilight shuddered heavily. “Be careful with what you wish for, huh? That’s what was happening to your people, wasn’t it?”

“There’s a concept I never quite understood until it was too late. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. In our case, the advent of the purple collars were our wolves in sheep’s clothing. But who would suspect them? They were the wet dream of every caribou stag: obedient, eager to please, knew their place, and always willing to do anything to please their masters. Anything. Absolutely anything,” Dainn mutter the last words with trembling rage.

“I know you’ll tell me when the time comes, but how could you not notice the signs that something was terribly wrong with them?” Twilight asked, still feeling dizzy.

“I was too arrogant and blinded to accept something was wrong despite the facts were slapping me across the face. I ignored the Spirit of Harmony, remember? Is it really that far-fetched that I would ignore reality itself thanks to my cowardice and stupidity?” Dainn chuckled. “But the first warning came not truly from the letter, because, why should I assume they were telling me the truth? No. The first sign came from Shining Armor.”

“My brother?” Twilight asked, astonished.

“It was what he said a few days later. He bragged that Cadance was insatiable and that he often had to tie her wrists to her ankles and make sure she couldn’t move just to get a good night’s rest. But that when she let her go loose, she’d sleep so tenderly,” he went silent for a moment, letting the howling wind echo all around the lifeless land outside the castle. “I felt something tremble within me when he mentioned ‘insatiable’. Fitting descriptor to label the purple collars that began to emerge shortly after that incident.”

“Did any of my friends become a purple collar?” Twilight asked in a hurry. “Moondancer? Lyra? Bon Bon? Pinkie? Zecora?”

“Fortunately, none. Pinkie Pie was close, but she became more servile than… insatiable. Hmmm, this may not be a good piece of information, but I often took her in to prepare some of my meals. Her treats were the only things I could actually taste. But I digress. Most of your friends were either black collars or reds. Sadly, Zecora found another trainer, Hirthir, an abusive trainer. He painted her ceremonial rings red and he forced her to stop speaking in rhymes. It was cruelty for cruelty’s sake just because the bastard thought her rhyming was annoying. Even Svarndagr allowed all females to speak the way they always have as long as they were respectful and submissive toward him; he would’ve dealt with her speech as it was. Pointless barbarity, pointless cruelty.”

“You say as if that’s something preferable,” Twilight spat angrily.

“Is it not?” Dainn replied. “If you had no choice but to be a slave, wouldn’t you choose the kinder, more reasonable master?”

Twilight facepalmed. “Could you stop making sense out of horrible situations, please!?”

“It is an example, Twilight. I know now that slavery, abuse, and a domineering attitude are disgusting things. But I am also objective and frank. What other choice did most of the incurables have? Zecora, for example, chose to submit willingly for her own protection. And the males would end up following the laws just to avoid being switched as the depravity grew over the coming months.”

“I know! I KNOW! They were outmatched, outnumbered, outplayed, and outpowered! The enchantment won Equestria for you and the scattered survivors had to splinter off! I know that they could only fight and suffer the consequences or submit and pray for the best, but you make it sound so casual and disturbing!” She complained. “I… I don’t like looking for alternatives that only offer a lesser evil alternative. Be it lesser or greater, evil is still evil! I rather choose neither.”

“Then you are already a million times the better leader than I ever was, Not My Twilight,” Dainn replied, smiling genuinely at her. “Now, tell me, Twilight. How would you define ‘insatiable’?”

“By word alone? Something that does not tire of experiencing the same thing, be it an action or inaction. A hunger or thirst, an obsession or fixation, impossible to satisfy. But in the case of what happened to Cadance and the purple collars? I can only guess,” then, she smirked, “Though I’m sure a lot of caribou were smiling from ear to ear, huh? Right before seeing they were growing weaker and started dying, right? Shame it didn’t happen before that,” turning her gaze up, she glared at him. “Then again, what can I expect from a species of animals that don’t even know what love is?”

Unlike previous times, Dainn didn’t agree with her rebuke. Instead, he stood up and in a flash of movement his frail, old, half-dead body shouldn’t be able to perform, Twilight found herself in the air, held aloft by an icy hand gently coiling fingers around her neck.

“LOVE!?” Dainn shouted in anger, his blue eyes glowing with fury. “Don’t you dare lecture me about love!” In another flash of movement, Twilight felt her back slam against the doors, opening them. “WAS I WRONG, TWILIGHT!? WAS I WRONG IN TRUSTING YOU!? I can take every insult under this pale, cold sun and much more, but I will not be insulted on matters of love! I have reflected too long on that to know myself in that regard!”

“I-I didn’t… want to… offend you!” Twilight rebuked, refusing to fight back.

Dainn let her go and shoved her away with his cane. “I am a caribou! You have insulted me, but not only me, you have insulted those caribou that knew love, those who you said couldn’t understand what love is. Gunne. Ginna. Oksho. And so many others out there who I never met but were shackled by the brutality my own people created eons ago! I… understand your rage, I accept it, but not regarding this. Never this. Go, leave, and return tomorrow if you truly hate my species to see this tale through… otherwise, prove to me that it was a mistake trusting you and leave me be with my suffering in solitude.”

“I’m… sorry, Dainn. I spoke--”

“Tomorrow. Reflect and think. Your apology, if there is one, will be honest then. Now, leave me be,” with a flick of his wrist, the doors closed. He made his way to a broken part of the wall next to his throne and waited until he saw Twilight slowly flying away to the place she came through. When she was out of sight, he sighed and moved to sit on his throne, slumping on it and tossing his cane away. “Although... maybe you do understand my people more than I ever did. Maybe, just maybe, you do.”

Out of nowhere, something fell on top of him and he put his hands together, forming a soft landing pad with his palms in time to catch the necklace he had forged for Celestia. It was as beautiful and detailed as ever. He sighed, again, this time letting it echo all across Canterlot with eerie, cold sadness. “Did I truly fell in love with you, Celestia? Was I a fool? Am I just that blind even after all these years? If I wasn’t, why did I created you?” He asked the necklace itself, expecting an answer that would never come. “And if I was… why did I never act on my feelings?” He chuckled darkly.

“What even is love?”

He asked no one as his veins started to glow with a golden light once more. Unlike the pain he was expecting to receive, he felt… a soothing embrace all over his body.

He clutched the necklace tightly, thankful for receiving such a small but significant mercy.