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

Once more I stare across the tundra, seeing snow, ice, and hardly anything growing in the ground. Thermal water pockets provide much of the heat we use and wood is hard to come by thanks to the damn forest being so far away. But we couldn’t move far away from the coast. There’s a forest, a big one, sure, but nothing edible except bark, some roots, and birch grows there. The animals living there are worse. No. we couldn’t leave the damn coast unless we wanted to starve.

And yet, my eyes focus across the ocean, hoping to see beyond the icy mist to the shores of the land that was taken from us. “Hhhhmmm,” the hum resonated through my throat as I hugged my pelt just a little tighter in search of warmth.

“What are you searching for, Dainn?”

I hear the rough, powerful voice of my liege, the King of the Caribou, my master, and my tormentor. King Svarndagr. I turn to face him and lay my head low in front of him, avoiding his gaze. “Morning, my liege. I came as soon as I received your summoning. How may I serve you this day?”

“Start by answering my question, Dainn,” he said in the same tone, but I could hear the annoyance behind his mask.

I gulped quickly as I felt fear clog my throat, but I refused to tremble or show any weakness in front of him. It never ended well in the past. “I am… wondering about what lies across the sea, my liege.”

“There is nothing out there but sea and death,” he said without anger, but I knew he was glaring. “Rise, Dainn. Come with me. There is something I wish for you to see.”

I obeyed immediately and met his gaze. Oh, how I despised him. I truly hated him. But my respect, admiration, and loyalty lie with him. How could I do otherwise? As I stood in front of the wall of muscles and pride made flesh, I felt weak and powerless. A head taller than me, broader shoulders, majestic antlers adorned his head, and the crown sitting on his brow displayed his might. He even discarded the use of a coat and merely had a thick bear pelt hanging from his back, allowing his chest to be adorned by a piece of armor that covered his chest, but nothing more. His bulging muscles were always visible, but that was his excuse to showcase his many, many battle scars.

He turned around and I followed, never more than two steps away from him but also never closer than that; always behind him. We left the meeting room through the door that a slave fox opened for us. I snorted in disgust at the pathetic creature. Small, weak. But obedient and eager to perform their duties. It was only right and proper.

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“Wait, hold up. I have so many questions… you had slaves?” Twilight asked, eyes narrowed.

“Of course. Several species, in fact. Ursas, imagine bears but capable of speech, foxes, various felines, and rabbits. They were slowly subjugated over the years, but it wasn’t until Svarndagr that every tribe of those poor wretches was finally stamped out and enslaved,” Dainn explained, his ethereal voice tinged with anger.

“How can you talk about enslavement like that? It is disgusting!” Twilight protested.

“And it is. Now I know better. My old self? No. I was stupid, ignorant, deluded. ‘The weak are unfit to rule themselves. The weak are weak because they lack the strength to overcome their weaknesses. The strong have the right to rule over the weak. The weak must serve the strong. It is the natural order of things for the weak to serve under our hooves, for only the Caribou are strong.’ That’s one of the many, many lessons my mentor drilled into me.”

Twilight glared at him. “He sounds so wise,” she said with thick sarcasm smearing her words.

“He truly wasn’t more than a delusional fool. He was, however, strong. Probably the strongest caribou in our recorded history. Like it or not, Twilight, Might Makes Right is the one truth found across nature itself. The weak perish, the strong survive,” Dainn explained, raising a finger at her. “Are alicorns not stronger than even dragons? Do they not rule by the grace of willing subjects much weaker than they are?”

“...Fine. You’re right in that regard,” she sighed. “Moving on from that point. You said Svarndagr was your tormentor. How so?”

“How else?” Dainn replied, his voice turning even more lifeless and hollow than before. “Svarndagr broke me in every sense possible, both to ensure my loyalty and to test my mantle. I wasn’t the only one that he mentored. There were several others. Most didn’t survive the first year. Not with the training he put us through,” his hands gripped the cane harder. “I almost died several times. Believe it or not, I am… was weak by caribou standards - I was never a warrior.”

“Wait, what?” Twilight asked, doing a double take. “But… how did you become the king, then?”

“Patience is a virtue, Twilight Sparkle. However, I can tell you that I was always a scholar. Physical power is mighty indeed, but knowledge is far greater,” he explained. “As for your question… Svarndagr never treated me or any others with respect or pity. In my particular case, he never treated me as a male most of the time. He treated me as a female, talked to me as a female… used me as a female.”

Twilight truly felt bad for the wretched being in front of her before she remembered what he had caused. “The abused become the abuser,” she said with cold indifference.

Dainn nodded. “True. But it was our way. The only way we knew how to live and survive. I raped many females, dozens, hundreds. However… I never enjoyed it,” a rumbling groan escaped his throat. “Let us continue before I forget where I left.”

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I follow my liege through the cold corridors of the palace. Tapestries and statues commemorate his many, many conquests along the way. The most impressive of all is the final conquest and subjugation of all other caribou clans and tribes. Our people were always united, but we were never on the same side. Clans and tribes competed and warred between each other all the time and no King had ever managed to bring them all together until Svarndagr put them all under his hooves.

There are several slaves working and tending to the statues, cleaning floors that don’t need to be cleaned, and doing other menial jobs that serve to remind them of their place in the world. We entered his throne room and the scent of sex filled my nose. There were a few caribou warriors having their way with slave females to my right, a caribou cow serving her master’s cock to my left, and Svarndagr’s favored pets were, as always, chained and kneeling alongside his throne.

To my surprise, I didn’t see any of my fellow apprentices in the room. I saw my liege sit on his throne and I knelt before him not wishing to invoke his wrath.

“You are more of a female than a male, Dainn.” Of course. He loved to remind me of the way he looked at me and treated me. Not a single day was I spared from his cruel, remaining remarks. But I didn’t flinch, simply took it the same way I took his cock most nights or whenever he desired to make use of my body. “You can’t mount a warbeast. Your combat skills are subpar, at best. And your figure is closer to that of a breeding slut than that of a true caribou stag. You certainly know how to take it like a whore, don’t you?”

I hated him so much, but I feared him ten times more. I nodded. “I live to serve you, my liege. If you wish so, you can have me Switched and I shall serve you as the female you see in me,” I say. I knew he would never do it, his ego would never allow it. But I was pleased to hear it. Ah, there it is. His twisted, egotistical smile. Good. I thought I would be spared from his vice that night, at least.

“And you will serve me. Dainn. Out of all my idiotic, imbecile disciples, you are, and I am pained to admit this, the most capable one. You are the best of my failures, Dainn,” he sighed deeply, as if he was in pain. I knew it was just disappointment. “Will I ever find a proper heir? My sons are weak because their whore mothers are weak. My generals? Pathetic. They can’t do anything without my approval. The Council? Leeches and soft-spoken fools, all of them. And my disciples?” He scoffed at the mere notion. “Failures are failures, but some fail more than others. At least you have plenty of uses, Dainn,” he licked his lips, his eyes staring at me hungrily. Not with desire, but with the hunger of dominating those weaker than him.

I never protested, would never protest. It was the way of the world. I was weak, he was mighty. It was… as things were meant to be.

“How may I serve you, my liege?” I ask again, desperate to get away from him before he changes his mind and takes me to the middle of the throne room. Again.

He snapped his fingers and runic power flowed through his body and moved through the throne until a secret compartment opened at the base of the throne. One of his pet slaves retrieved whatever was inside it with her mouth and placed it on his lap. I saw him pick up a scroll only to toss it at me with complete disinterest. “Study that scroll. See what secrets you may find then report them to me, Dainn.”

“This scroll… it is ancient,” I muttered in disbelief as I stared at the seal of Yggdris on it.

“It is,” he said, still disinterested. “You may be a sorry excuse of a warrior, incapable of holding your own in combat. My other disciples won glory in conquests while you stuck your nose in old, dusty books and scrolls. Others conquered the last settlements of the weaker species while you wrote your useless findings. You struggled to capture three lowly females when the others dragged dozens into the farms and pens. By all means, Dainn, you fail as a caribou and as a male. But your insight and knowledge are useful to me.”

He spat each word with venom and mockery flair as always. It didn’t even hurt anymore. It was the same dribble every time. But I didn’t pay him any attention, my focus was set on the scroll now in my hands. What secrets would it contain? I rose to my hooves as he waved a hand at me. I was free to go and I took my chance to leave and return to my quarters.

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“Wait… I have some more questions,” Twilight said and waited for a few moments to see if Dainn would reply. The silence was her answer and a single tilt of his head. “What does Switching mean? And for that matter, why would you follow such a terrible, horrible asshole!? WILLINGLY NO LESS!” She shouted in outrage. Her human-learned lexicon came to use, proving to be a more satisfactory -albeit cruder- form of cursing.

“What option did I truly have? Everyone believed there was nothing beyond the sea. He ruled with absolute authority, none could challenge him. He knew it. We knew it. He was strong and mighty. He had the right to rule,” Dainn explained casually. “As for what Switching is? Quite simple, through runic magic and spell channeling, the gender of any living creature can be reversed. We used it mostly on males, mind you. Remember I mentioned we enslaved every other species in our region?” Twilight nodded.

Dainn sighed heavily, as if the memory of it alone caused him tremendous pain. “Nearly every male was Switched, turned into females to be used at our leisure. The few males that remained were either captured and forced to see what their defiance brought their people or those that groveled enough to be spared such a fate,” he paused for a moment, blinking. “When a caribou stag was turned into a cow, well, I guess you can connect the dots?” He chuckled. “In his own words: why should we accept an influx of unworthy males into our ranks? Traitors and weaklings that will happily put a dagger in our backs the moment they can? No. Have them serve in the role of a female or kill them all and be done with it. They simply cannot be trusted,” his eyes narrowed. “Do you see the sense in his words?”

“...I do. By Celestia, I do,” Twilight shook her head, and sighed. “What did you find in those scrolls, anyway? Because I really hope you’re going somewhere with your tale. All I’ve learned so far is that your previous king was awful and worthy of the darkest pit in Tartarus, that you had a horrible life, that the caribou are rotten to the core, and that’s about it.”

“Rotten to the core… you… your -Here You- knew… I said the same thing before I---,” Dainn cut himself short, shaking his head. “You’ll… understand soon enough. For now, let us continue?”

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I studied the scrolls as I was instructed. When I deciphered the runes, I wish I had not. My findings were not a message, but a warning. A dire one. Some pieces were missing, the warning was incomplete, but I pieced enough of it together to realize that something terrible was about to happen. I dared not share my findings with Svarndagr for fear of what he’d do with such information. He would either discard it or destroy it. The first I couldn’t contemplate, the latter I wouldn’t allow. In secret and under the cover of secrecy and the cold nights, I met with my only trusted friend: Gunne the Cursed and his twin sister, Ginna.

In secret, we began to spread rumors about a coming catastrophe and that the only option for survival was to leave across the sea. Few believed it but the signs… they were apparent to me after a few months of keen observation. Svarndagr grew more debauched and ruthless by the day, unhinged and losing control of himself. But he grew stronger at the same time. When I saw new rune carvings appear on his flesh one night after he raped me yet again, I knew time was running out. I pulled enough resources away to build ships in secret; the scrolls thankfully contained the secrets of shipbuilding beyond mere coast harvesting and fishing boats.

He also grew impatient with my lack of progress but I merely made up excuses. That’s when I discovered that for all his strength and prowess, my mentor was an abject idiot. He was a genius in combat and a master strategist, but he despised intelligence. It was easy to fool him and get away with retrieving more scrolls and books detailing runic power, runes, magic, and even seals. All in front of needing them to translate what the scrolls said. I fed him false information, made no mention of the Cycle for I knew he’d discard it or execute me for some perceived treason. Instead, I managed to forge new runes - weak things but useful, enough to satisfy his curiosity and agitate his thirst for more conquest.

With his rapid and now obvious change in habits and temperament, many more started to believe in the coming disaster. I honestly thought I had more time, that I could take all I could with me and leave Svarndagr once and for all.

Then… It happened. I was out in the secret shipyards when I felt everything grow silent. Even the air stopped blowing, the seas were calm, and no one talked. Silence had come first to announce our demise. I made it to the edges of the city overlooking the palace when I saw it explode outwards as expelled unhinged runic and wild magic consumed everything in its path.

I was seeing the death of my people and I knew I had failed.

Until Gunne and Ginna dragged me back and flung me down the secret chasm that served as our entrance to the secret shipyard. Cries of horror cut through the silence only to be silenced a moment later. I hit the back of my head and darkness took me.

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Twilight could only stare at the old stag with pity. Even if he was a monster, even if his people were nothing but a bunch of conquering, misogynistic, rapists… no one deserved to go through that. Not even them. “I’m… sorry, Dainn,” was all she could mutter in a half-sincere tone.

Dainn nodded, his unfeeling, cold blue eyes reflecting for a moment a deep, gnawing pain of an old wound being opened. The story was difficult to revive even for a half-living decrepit thing such as he. “When I came into… everything was already over. It happened too fast, too swiftly. Nothing could be done. I ran out to see what had happened and I was stunned by what I saw. The entire land was lifeless or close to it. Only the palace was gone, the rest of the city was still there though burning with excess magic. The only survivors were those hidden in the shipyard at the time the Cycle erupted or those extremely lucky few I found scattered in the city.”

Silence fell between them for several seconds, Twilight gave the old stag the courtesy of holding her tongue in a respectful mourning for half a minute before speaking once more.

“What is the Cycle, Dainn?” She asked with some reservation and care. “Who are Gunne and Ginna? What caused such a terrible explosion?”

“Gunne and Ginna… my only true loyal and dear friends. How I miss them so terribly. How I wish to join them… yet here I remain,” Dainn exhaled, his breath blowing a dusty mist. “Do you want to know what that horrible thing is? What the Cycle is? You’ve experienced something similar if you and the Twilight I know are more similar than I suspect. Tell me, how did you become Celestia’s student?”

“My magic went haywire and I caused chaos to unfold,” Twilight answered, frowning. “But… for such a thing to happen… how?”

“The answer I discovered was frustratingly dull in explaining how or why it happened, only that it happened. You see, Twilight, unlike ponies and other naturally magic-wielding species, caribou magic is relatively weak. That’s why we rely on runes, glyphs, seals, and other means to harness such power. But not when it comes to the Cycle. According to the warnings left in the scrolls, the Cycle begins when a large number of caribou are alive. In other words, we grow too numerous. A leader rises and he becomes a mighty warlord, king, or some other prominent figure. The devastation that ravages the land is exponential in accordance to the might of the individual in question.”

Twilight gasped. “And Svarndagr was a mighty king!”

“Mighty is selling him short. As I already told you, Twilight, he was the most prominent of our race. The mightiest and strongest, the most feared and respected. His will was absolute, his reach and ambition far too grand for his own good. A conqueror. A warlord. A king. If there was a caribou stag deserving of the title Alpha Male, then he earned the right to carry such a title,” Dainn replied, tightening his cane.

The alicorn gaped at the caribou in abject horror. “Why… what… I-- I don’t understand! Why would such a thing happen!? What possible reason is behind it?”

“Something disgusting and disturbing. You see, Twilight, the scrolls dated back millennia. All the way to the times of Yggdras, our native homeland. It explains that the cycle happens only once every few centuries as a means to cull our numbers and maintain a balance,” a raspy chuckle left his throat. “And with good reason. What do you think happens to a civilization when it falls? What is the logical thing for the survivors to do?”

“History proves that survivors flee to other places and start anew. Other times they try to rebuild but with a change in their government and way of life,” said Twilight, now truly engrossed by the tale of Dainn.

“Not with the caribou. Every time the Cycle happens, the survivors move to a new location to start a new kingdom of slavery. Nothing is learned, Twilight. We go back to being slavers, rapists, conquerors… monsters. Why? I do not know. But that’s the truth. Then we expand and grow under the banner of a powerful, charismatic, and mighty leader. The Cycle then happens and ensures that the one leading such a force is expunged along with everyone and everything they touched,” he took a deep breath and blinked a few times before continuing. “I searched everywhere, in every city, every other settlement… the result was the same: the devastation had been near absolute. I took in those few that survived and brought them to the ships that were ready for departure.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. That’s… that’s insanity on the scale of an entire civilization? Did no king of your kind ever try to change your ways?” Twilight asked, appalled and feeling dizzy after everything she had seen and heard in just the span of a few hours.

“Some tried to do it. Their reigns ended swiftly and bloodily. The way of life of the caribou, my people, was so cemented into our way of thinking and doing things that we couldn’t escape it. The old and antiquated practices never died and were perpetuated by ignorant, stupid fools unable to change anything about it. Anyone who tried was executed; cut down by all those around them,” he grimaced. “That… is not normal and I don’t know WHY!” He shouted the last word to the heavens themselves but only the echo of his ethereal voice rang in the hollow walls of the now-empty castle.

Twilight gulped, trying and failing to place herself in the same position. So, she opted for her only available option. “What happened next?”

“The land was dead, utterly. What little food we could harvest and hunt was destroyed and reduced to ash and dust. Not even the horrible algae survived. All that we had were the stockpiles we carefully stole and packed away for the journey. We were short on time, short on supplies, and short on numbers. Those too injured, crippled, or old to be of use, we granted mercy. The rest of us left, never to return in search of a new land.”

Dainn’s eyes grew even colder and lifeless than they were already for a short moment and Twilight could feel the hate that each raspy, ethereal word escaped past his lips. “If I had known what I know now, I would’ve sunk every last ship in the middle of the ocean.”