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

Everything I could see was nothing but open seas. For days, weeks nothing but the roiling ocean had met my gaze long after we left the coast of our devastated home. Just like the ancient caribou and the fall of Yggdras, we fled a land left defiled and dead by a curse that had no origins or explanation. I had spent almost every waking hour dividing my time between organizing and maintaining cohesion within the fleet and trying to discern any mention of what initially brought the Cycle to be a burden upon us.

“Dainn… we have a problem,” Gunne said while Ginna clung closely to him. I stare at them despite the tiredness I felt washing all over my body and eyelids. Ginna, as any cow and female, was completely naked and exposed, shivering slightly as the only piece on her was a red-tinted leather collar. Gunne the Cursed, my best friend and the only one I could really trust with my secrets and pain stepped forth with Ginna following closely. I offered a seat and he took it, his sister knelt next to him. “It’s the food. We’re starting to run out and we're running two-third rations already.”

“Fantastic. Just one more thing to worry about,” I say with sarcastic dishumor. “What about the fishermen? Are they doing their jobs?”

“They are, but the ocean is vast and they haven’t caught anything in three days,” Gunne replied.

My eyes shifted to Ginna and I smiled at her. I’ve always liked her. She’s gentle, obedient, and loyal. “Why don’t you give her something to cover herself? She’ll freeze at this rate, Gunne. We need to save as many females as we can,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Isn’t it ironic? We treat females as slaves and fuck toys and yet we often forget that they are the ones that give birth to more caribou.”

“Svarndagr would’ve beheaded you if he heard you say those words, my friend… but you’re right,” Gunne turned to his sister and petted her head. “She deserves better than what I can give her.”

“Don’t say that, Gunne. You’re my Master and I happily obey you. I love you, Master. It’s my fault to be born at the same time as you… without my useless self then maybe you wouldn’t get those nasty glares and angry murmurs when you’re not looking,” Ginna said, leaning her head against Gunne’s thigh.

“And they can go fuck themselves. I would rather live as the “Cursed” than live without you, Ginna,” Gunne replied.

That made me smile. Their bond was something I understood but never felt for myself. I shook those thoughts away and returned to the topic at hand. “We’ll have to reduce the--” my words died in my throat as the clanging of bells echoed all around me. We jumped to our hooves and rushed out to see what had caused the alarm to go off this time.

Our fleet counted only a little over five hundred ships packed with everything we could scavenge and every survivor worthy of saving from the devastation. Over the course of weeks, a few had been sunk by attacking sea monsters, two more were destroyed by a passing storm, and twenty ships had been taken over through mutiny and set off on their own, their final destination unknown but I very much doubted they were still alive.

Despite the losses, those were fewer numbers than I had feared. Sheer survival has a funny way of bringing people together, I found out.

When we made it to the port side of the ship and we got our answer. A trio of sea monsters were attacking a ship, ganging up on it. No other ship was close to it; we were already as closely knit as possible without risking collisions. I could barely make out the brave warriors trying to fight off the sea monsters only to be picked off and devoured one by one. To my dismay, one of the monsters shattered the wooden exterior of the ships, flooding it. Caribou and those few members of our slave species that survived began jumping out, desperately swimming to the nearest ship.

Most of them were eaten by the monsters while the ship slowly sank beneath the waves, pulled down by the beasts. It was over a few moments later and I felt a great rage in my heart, but there was nothing else I could do. We couldn’t risk the few fishing boats available to us in rescue attempts until the monsters were done with their assault. “Signal to… start rescue attempts. It seems they are gone for now,” I ordered.

“You heard him,” Gunne said at the several stags that had come to join us to view the death of another ship.

“And… tell the other ships to reduce the rations to half,” I added, glaring at the ocean and then at the sky. “We… we can’t go on like this for long.”

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“Couldn’t you stay behind and try to rebuild?” Twilight asked after Dainn stopped for several seconds. “Fleeing to the ocean seemed foolish without a direction to follow. Maybe you could’ve healed the land or moved to other fertile lands untouched by the Cycle?”

“What other choice did we have? It was either stay and die for certain or leave and risk death and hope for survival,” Dainn replied in a sad tone. “As I stated before, had I known what our survival entailed, I would’ve let my entire corrupted species die off without a second thought.”

Twilight stared at the caribou she had come to despise in such a short amount of time with horror. Is this really the monster that enslaved Equestria, that set ruination across the land, who did who knows what terrible acts of debauchery and perversion? Has loneliness and regret truly changed him that much? It has to be, she thought as she desperately tried to find a logical answer… an answer that would only come with his retelling. “I… don’t know what to say, Dainn.”

“Save your words, Twilight. I do not deserve your sympathy nor your pity,” he sighed. “We -my people, that is- got exactly what we deserved. It is infuriating that the entire world suffered because of our curse.”

“Speaking of that, I have two questions related to it. Why, exactly, was Gunne known as “The Cursed”? She asked, trying her best to lighten Dainn’s mood, if only a little.

“Simple. In caribou culture, the birth of a female is often seen as… cattle reproducing at best and as a failure at worst. Males are, of course, lauded. So, whenever twins are born, the sentiment is magnified. Gunne and Ginna were an extremely rare case of twins of different sex. Gunne was always seen as tainted by weakness for having to share his mother’s womb with Ginna. ‘The taint of Female Worthlessness’ they called it. So, he was known as the Cursed because he was “Cursed”,” Dainn spat the word with cold, chilling poison, “to be born alongside Ginna.”

“...That is so fucking stupid I don’t even---,” Twilight shook her head and gritted her teeth. “It would be like saying Pound is cursed for having Pumpkin as his sister!” She exclaimed in outrage. She fumed for a few more moments before she felt Dainn’s icy stare on her. “W-What?”

“You cursed… again,” he chuckled. “You truly are unlike the Twilight I knew. Before… her subjugation, I was told she never once swore. You truly are different. Next thing you’re going to tell me you’ve had intimacy or sex toys.”

Twilight blushed and looked away. Dainn stared at her for several seconds until he broke into a fit of icy, oddly happy chuckles. “Don’t laugh…”

“I am not… It is merely amusing, Twilight Sparkle,” he sighed a few moments later. “And your second question?”

Sunset Shimmer and the human world had corrupted me! She thought, embarrassed. Clearing her throat, she continued. “W-What happened to the remains of everyone? I highly doubt you buried them all.”

Dainn spread his arms, his eyes returning to their original gloomy, emotionless glimmer. “You’re standing among them. Seeing them. Breathing them. The ash? That’s every animal, insect, plant, and living thing that once roamed across the planet.”

Twilight felt her stomach churning a second later and fell to all fours, vomiting pure bile onto the floor. “I…-” she wretched again. “I regret asking that.”

“The truth is hurtful and unpleasant most of the time. This I know more than anyone, Twilight. While you recover, I shall continue,” he said with cold resolve.

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“Truly?” I asked, not wishing to raise my hopes too high. “How many have confirmed it?”

“Several scouts have reported the same conclusion. Land, my Lord,” said the young fisherman.

I hummed deeply as I considered all of my options. Sea monsters had stopped attacking us over two weeks ago, starvation wasn’t a problem yet but it would be in a week if we didn’t get an influx of food and fast. Water was, thankfully, abundant thanks to light raining and magic runes conjuring condensation in isolated areas. I had already taken a huge risk sending a few of the smaller ships ahead of the main fleet to scout ahead, risking the safety of my people like that on a hopeful dream that wasn't sitting well with me, but there was no other choice.

And yet, I felt victorious over the now dead and gone Svarndagr. There was land beyond the ocean. I stood up. “You shouldn’t call me Lord. I’m not a noble and I never took on an official title except that of a disciple.”

“Regardless, it is thanks to you that we are alive, my Lord. You deserve to be talked to with respect, if at least that,” the fisherman said, smiling. “What should we do now?”

“I must discuss this issue with others. Wait on the ship until I return,” I ordered. Being respected and addressed with admiration was new to me and it made me uncomfortable, yet it was oddly heartwarming at the same time. I left my quarters and made my way to where Gunne was running his usual logistical matters. “Gunne, land has been spotted by the scouts. Several confirmed sights. Summon the captains and every still living noble, warrior, and caribou of renown. There are matters that only a unified front can discuss and agree upon if we wish to take any step forth.”

“At once!” Gunne replied, dashing to the warning bell. He tolled it three times in consecutive order to avoid causing panic. He waited a moment and rang it three more times. I watched as he dropped the hammer and picked up two small red-colored banners and rose them above his head. A series of distant bells broke through the now pleasing lullaby of water crashing against the hull of our ships. Then, he moved his arms in a fashion strange to me; a code used for long distances. He finished after a few seconds later, dropped the banners, hit the bell once, and returned to me breathing heavily. “M-Message sent. They should s-start arriving as soon as possible.”

“What would I do without you, Gunne?” I asked with sincerity. The thought of not having my best friend at my side sickened me. Same went for Ginna, whom I deeply cared for despite her being a female.

I left after hugging my friend and waited for the arrival of several dozen caribou. Some I knew well, some only in passing, and the rest only in name and reputation. The first to arrive was, unsurprisingly, Anvari, master of bloodlines. Then Sindri arrived followed by Vestri, Thror, Durnir, and Ivangri. More and more arrived until, twenty minutes after the summoning, the ever-pretentious Storm, master of Runecraft, stepped onto the ship. I guided them all below decks, the only proper place for us to hold a meeting with fifty-plus influential and important caribou - depressingly few educated nobles and respected traders, artists, merchants, and warriors or renown that were not snuffed away by the Cycle.

“Gentlemen, I greet you and thank you for answering my call. Some of you may already know what this is about so I’ll make it simple and go straight to the point: land has been spotted. If my calculations are correct, the scouts should reach it within the morrow and the rest of us in five days, if we are fortunate. The question is this: should we land in this new land and hope for the best or dispatch an expedition to make sure it is habitable? After all, landing on a land devoid of resources to gather and game to hunt will do us no good,” I explain, careful to point out the potential dangers of being careless, even if our situation is nearing the point of desperation.

“I say we land and claim the land for ourselves. We won’t last long if we don’t do anything,” Anvari said, blunt and to the point as always. For being the master of Bloodlines, he truly displayed a lacking degree of intellect.

“As much as I hate to agree with Anvari, he is correct. This is a dire time, Dainn. We must act decisively,” ah, the ever-cautious Vestri spoke with reason. For him to agree with Anvari was a testament of our struggle and difficult times. I didn’t need to hear any other opinions as the rest began murmuring amongst themselves, agreeing that that was the most sensible action. We were going to land and damn the consequences.

“Then it is decided. We shall make landfall with due haste. Let us hope the land is welcoming to us,” I sighed, ready to move to the next topic. “The next issue is one far more serious. I have previously stated what destroyed our home: the Cycle. We can’t allow this to happen again… at least, not so soon. But we cannot remain leaderless. I have thought of several types of temporary government until we stabilize. A similar group to our own Council is the best solution in my mind; avoid putting all the power in a single individual. That should prevent the Cycle from happening again.”

“And what if that only makes it worse? One Svarndagr was bad. Imagine several of them!” Thramm, master of Arts, said. Out of everyone, he was the most affected by the destruction. The eradication of his works and caribou artistic history hit him hard.

“The point is to not conjure a single caribou to a near-mythical degree. A council, a chamber of representatives, a ruling house, and even a triumvirate are good options, but no less than three leading figures. I dare not risk any number lower than that,” I replied, further cementing my decision and thoughts.

“And you’d be at the head of any such organization, wouldn’t you?” Storm asked. Of course. Greedy, pretentious, and cruel. He made Switching to an art form. His disdain for me was obvious, but he never openly displayed it except through snide remarks.

“Of course not. I have neither the strength nor the patience for rulership. I am a scholar, my place is with my scrolls, books, and words. I will assist as an advisor, at most, but never shall I sit on a place of prominence,” I said, truly believing such words at the time.

“By whose command? By whose decision? If anything, Dainn, you’re selling yourself short,” Ivangri spoke up. Damn him. Damn be his honeyed words. Damn me for listening to his rhetoric. “Every crew sees and looks up to you in reverence. This is no secret. You saved us… even I, who once saw you as the pet of that damned fool, cannot help but bow before your might.”

“Might!?” Oksho, a Grand Champion, spat. “Look at him! He is more female than stag! He is not mighty at all! I bet I could break him with an arm tied behind my back and while I’m blindfolded!”

“What is might, Oksho? Everyone saw what that sort of might brought us. You are strong, mighty in a physical sense. But, tell me, would you be capable of doing a tenth of what Dainn has achieved in secret, under Svarndagr’s nose, and saved so many of our people?” Vestri joined in. Another reason for contempt, another stupid choice.

“May I… offer another solution?” Hrathr, Beastmaster, spoke up. Who would’ve thought that from the dullest of minds would come the most logical-sounding solution? “Cycle bad, yes? Why not make Dainn King?” The sheer notion of that statement knocked the lights out of me when I heard it. The entire room was silent. “Yes, think about it. Cycle needs big, strong, mighty caribou, yes? I am strong, mighty, leader! Everyone else here is strong and big, bad choice for king. But Dainn? He is weakest, smallest stag in room. He almost like cow. He treated like one by idiot king. Cycle will not want him. He perfect, yes?”

“That… I… I never thought of that,” I replied. It is true. I never once considered that option. If the Cycle needs a strong caribou, a prominent leader, a great and mighty conqueror that represents everything our culture stands for. All of the things I wasn’t. “It might work… but it can’t be me.”

“Why not?” Ivangri replied. “You pretty much run the entire fleet and the rest of our people already, Dainn. Are we not gathered here at your request? You are our leader in all but title.”

“Outrageous!”

“He isn’t a noble!”

“I’ll take him over another Svarndagr!”

“He saved us! He deserves to be king!”

The objections flew back and forth for another two minutes, from insults to praises and accusations. Nothing was new to me except for the outpouring of support thrown my way. Meanwhile, I really considered the possibility of having a weak, pathetic stag as king. Even if the Cycle began to influence me, it would happen again in several hundred years. And as king, I thought, I would be able to keep in check my people’s worst impulses and focus on guiding us on a less wrathful path. Perhaps even abolish slavery altogether.

“THE KING IS DEAD!” Ivangri suddenly shouted before kneeling before me. “LONG LIVE THE KING!”

“LONG LIVE THE KING!” Vestri followed suit.

“LONG LIVE!” Hrathr joined in.

“LONG LIVE THE KING! LONG MAY HE REIGN! LONG LIVE THE KING! LONG MAY HE REIGN!”

The room echoed with a chorus of almost sixty throats clamoring my name and putting a crown I never wanted over my head.

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Dainn stopped and looked up, tears falling down his blue, icy eyes. “I didn’t know it at the time, but I had just sealed the deaths of everyone that day. I made all the wrong choices that looked like the best ones… the gravest mistake I made was picking the wrong stags to form my council.”

For her part, Twilight had recovered from the uncomfortable voiding of her stomach and was now staring at Dainn with a look of true bewilderment. At first she thought he was tricking her, playing some sort of game… but now that she could all but feel the remorse, pain, sadness, and depression radiating from his very aura, she couldn’t see him as the monster she’d seen in the stained glasses or in the statues. All she could see was an old and broken caribou. No. An old and broken person.

She must’ve been staring at him far harder than she intended since he looked down at her, confused.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I don’t see any hatred in your eyes…,” he asked with a soft, emotionless tone. It was as if he couldn’t accept anything that wasn’t hatred or disgust directed at him.

“Because… it’s just that… If everything you’ve said is indeed true, then you were a kind and noble king, a caring king. Sure, that’s within your species' standards but you were looking for the well-being and survival of your people. You have noble intentions and nobler goals. I can’t… I can’t fathom what made you change so much. Was it the stags you mentioned? You referred to them with so much disdain…”

“They were my worst mistake, Twilight. I should’ve purged them and start anew. I should’ve tightened a leash around their necks and controlled their dark impulses. So, so many things I should’ve -could’ve done differently- but I didn’t. If there is something I can say for myself now, the only good thing that came with living alone in this nightmare is that my mind and my decisions are finally my own,” he sighed, shaking his head. “The worst and the start of the end was about to commence. All because of my weakness and stupidity.”