The High King

A stag walked at a sedate pace as he moved through the burning village. His steps made no noise as they came down on the snow. Bright blasts of red and orange flame whipped and snapped in the cold winter breeze. They sent up small puffs of steam from melting snow, and colored the cloudless night’s full moon with a harsh orange hue. The deer’s slender legs stepped lightly over the carnage of slain ponies and around broken buildings, and his enormous, dark eyes swept from side to side, watching as his soldiers went about their duties, looking through the village. His deer were busily combing the wreckage and checking the dead, looking for ponies either freshly born or so young that they would barely remember their old lives. So far they had only found a small number, but the village had not been fully searched. The stag had hope.

The ponies that served under his banner moved through the town as well. They were preoccupied with their own business as they took anything they fancied from the shattered remains of homes and storefronts. Any survivors they found were dispatched with casual, ruthless efficiency. The stag nodded approvingly as he watched them work before stopping as he came to the largest building in the village, the chieftain’s home. The building’s porch was slick with blood, a small number of pony bodies littering the ground, slowly being covered in the ash-greyed snow that fell from the sky. The house’s door had been smashed off of its hinges, merely one of the many that had been broken in the course of the attack. The stag once again nodded approvingly. The ponies who had attacked this place had been thorough.

“My lord! My lord Prince!” called a voice.

The self-styled Great Prince of the Forest turned and saw another stag bounding towards him. As he reached the Prince, the stag slid to a stop and bowed. It was hasty and sloppy, but in the newcomer’s mind, now was not the time to spend precious moments on ceremony. “The scouts have spotted torches. They’re coming from the southeast. We think that they may be soldiers from the closest castle.”

“How many?” the prince asked, raising one slim, dark eyebrow.

“Five score,” the stag said, looking back up at his lord. “They will be here soon.”

The prince nodded his elegant head, then turned it from side to side, looking around the village. “Gather the rest and make your way back towards the forest. I will follow shortly.”

“Yes, milord,” the stag said, giving another hasty bow before leaping off. Within minutes the thirty warriors had assembled in the village square. As the Prince watched they marched away in good order, moving east into the night, towards a nearby forest. The prince merely stood on the hill for a short while. Waiting and looking to the southeast, he saw the hundred-strong party of ponies gallop closer and closer. The stag let a thin smile cross his lips before deciding to follow his troops. Blue-white magic slowly curled up around his majestic antlers, gathering along the tines and coming together in the open space between them. The magic formed into a ball that flared brightly for what seemed like a mere instant, obscuring the prince from the sight of the oncoming ponies as the stag teleported away.

***

Hooves thundered on the snowy ground, kicking up flurries of greyish-white. Shouted orders and whinnies filled the air as the company moved into the village square, the banner carried by one of the company’s troops waving and snapping in the wind. The company’s leader walked to the edge of the square, snow swirling about him and sticking in the short, brown beard that covered his chin. His green eyes narrowed, and he pursed his lips as he took in the sight of the burning settlement. He turned to the rest of the company, jerking his head back towards the village. “Go. Search for survivors.”

The company trotted off into the village, sticking together in groups as they searched the buildings that were still intact. There weren’t many. Those that were no longer burning had collapsed, their blackened remains slowly being covered up by the snow. Scorched, Ash-covered bodies protruded from wreckage in various forms: a burnt hoof here, a soot-blackened head there. Other bodies littered the streets or were slumped over fences, water troughs, or wagons. The captain sighed as he turned away from the search, spotting the one pony that had not gone along with the others.

He wasn’t even an inhabitant of the castle anyway, or even an inhabitant of this region of Ebellon. Then again, nopony on Ebellon was even sure of where he had come from. The unicorn had just…appeared, one day. Then again, one did not question Star Swirl the Bearded. The lime green unicorn watched the searching ponies impassively, his beard waving in the wind as the bells on his hat tinkled gently.

The captain walked over to the wizard, the earth pony bowing respectfully as he approached. “Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable back at the castle, Master Star Swirl?”

“No, I’m quite all right,” Star Swirl said as he scuffed the snow with a hoof. He looked around the ruined village, taking in the destruction.

“Bastards,” the captain growled as he followed the wizard’s gaze. “There won’t be any ponies left on Ebellon if this keeps happening.”

“Or at least, any ponies left on Ebellon that are not under the thrall of the deer’s leader,” Star Swirl muttered as he and the captain walked forward, moving into the village as the winter breeze swept his cape every which way, the bells on the cape’s hem jingling merrily in stark dissonance to the present surroundings. The captain walked after him, his head turning left and right as he scanned the village’s ruined buildings.

“Do you think anypony survived?” he asked, turning to the wizard beside him. Star Swirl sighed as he looked around, white clouds of warm air drifting from his mouth.

“I’m not sure,” he whispered. “The deer are nothing if not thorough.”

The captain nodded hesitantly. “It’d be a miracle to find a single pony alive, let alone if we can even find a foal…”

“Take heart, Captain.” Star Swirl said. “Ponykind has overcome adversity in the face of death before. Do you not recall the Great Winter of old?”

“I do,” the captain said before sighing heavily. “But the Windigos did not follow the unicorns here. And thus we learned no lesson of friendship.”

“But that does not mean that the lesson cannot still be learned,” Star Swirl said reassuringly. “And even in the darkest of times, hope remains.”

“Captain! Captain Keen Edge!” called a soldier as he galloped over, a small bundle hanging around his neck.

“What is it, Trapper?” Keen Edge asked. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“A foal, sir,” Trapper said. Gently taking one part of the cloth in his teeth he unwrapped it just enough to reveal the foal’s face. It was a colt, a unicorn with a dusty brown coat and chocolate-brown mane. He was sleeping peacefully, seemingly unbothered by the carnage around him.

“How would a unicorn get into an earth pony province?” Keen Edge wondered aloud.

“The family must have immigrated,” Star Swirl said. “Either way, it would not be safe for him to stay in these lands. He should be taken to unicorn territory.”

“Agreed,” Keen Edge said, nodding. He looked back at Trapper as Star Swirl levitated the foal from him and hung it around his own neck. “Finish searching the village, then return to the castle. Master Star Swirl and I will return ahead of time so that we may prepare him for the journey.”

“Yessir,” Trapper said, saluting.

“Preparations will not be necessary, Captain,” Star Swirl said. “I know who to take the little one to.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” Star Swirl said. “The Lord of that province is an honorable pony, and he loves his son dearly. Hopefully that love will extend to this little one as well,” he added as he gently nuzzled the sleeping foal. “Plus, I have a feeling that this little unicorn will be somepony special.” He looked up at Keen Edge as his horn started to glow. “Be well, Captain, and good fortune to you and your troops.”

“To you as well, Master Star Swirl,” Keen Edge said. He bowed as Star Swirl lit his horn as he got ready to teleport. A flash of magic later the wizard was gone, leaving only a circle of bare ground.

***

Star Swirl reappeared far to the south of the earth pony province, on a peninsula on the southwestern coast of Ebellon. The snow was not as deep here, the winds not as biting. A short walk away he could see a castle, its keep and walls thrown into stark relief by the silver light of the full moon. Nestled in the shadow of the nearby mountain of Highcliff, the castle town of Arcan was the capital of the realm of the same name. Arcan Castle was a grand building, its walls fifty feet high and ten feet thick. The grey stone that the castle was made of reflected the moonlight, making the castle appear to glow on clear nights. The banner of Arcan’s lord hung down the façade of the keep and on the outer surface of the walls, depicting a blue ring surrounding a blue flame on a green field.

As he began walking with his hooves crunching on the snow, Star Swirl’s mind was not on the view of the castle. Instead it was dwelling on what Captain Keen Edge had said. Despite Star Swirl’s apparent optimism, the Ebellon ponies’ lack of harmony and cooperation with one another had long been a staple of the island’s makeup. Various petty kings and lords had divided the land amongst themselves. Many of the northern nobility concerned themselves with warring against the deer and their followers. The other lords fought amongst each other. Their lands were small, only another tiny piece of land amongst the many other fiefs, duchies and baronies that made up the pony lands of Ebellon.

Things needed to change, Star Swirl thought.

Star Swirl stopped at the end of the path at the other side of Arcan Castle’s moat. Looking up at the wall, the wizard waited until a sentry spotted him.

“Who goes there?” the Arcan soldier demanded.

“Star Swirl the Bearded! I have come to ask a favor of your lord!”

“Lord Rune is asleep!”

“It’s important!”

“I apologize, sir, but I cannot let you in without Lord Rune’s permission!”

Star Swirl growled and was about to acquiesce and go bed down in the nearest inn when a voice called out over the wall.

“By my horn, Star Swirl the Bearded! What brings you out to Arcan at this time of the year?”

Smiling, Star Swirl turned back around and looked back up at the parapets. Another unicorn had walked up beside the sentry, the hauberk he wore over his mail vest emblazoned with Arcan’s insignia as well as with the symbol of his rank. “Captain Crescent!” Star Swirl said jovially. “I should ask you what your old bones are doing out so late at night in such cold weather!”

“You’re far older than me, wizard, and you would do well not to forget that,” Crescent said, winking at Star Swirl good-naturedly. He turned his head over in the direction of Arcan Castle’s gatehouse. “Open the gates!”

Arcan Castle’s massive drawbridge slowly but surely moved downward as the guards in the gatehouse winched it down. Once the drawbridge was lowered and its massive timbers firmly upon the stone, the massive iron portcullis behind it was cranked upward, raising it high enough for Star Swirl to be able to walk under it as he moved towards the castle. The final door, a simple wooden gate, was pulled open with magic, the horns of the guards flaring brightly as they pulled it open. Star Swirl looked around as he entered Arcan Castle’s courtyard, taking note of the guard barracks and the unicorn soldiers that patrolled the walls.

Captain Crescent walked up to Star Swirl as the wizard entered, the grizzled soldier’s face split in a wide grin, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. Crescent’s neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper mane and beard framed his face perfectly, his wizened features taking in Star Swirl and his little passenger. He walked closer, peering into the bundle that hung from the wizard’s neck. “Where’d you get the little one?”

“He was in a village, in an earth pony province that had been destroyed by the deer,” Star Swirl said, the memory of the place still clear in his mind. “As far as I know, both of his parents were killed, and he was the only survivor. And so I brought him here.”

Crescent nodded. “He won’t be happy about it, but I will wake Lord Rune. You’re free to come inside while you wait.”

Star Swirl nodded back and followed Crescent as the captain turned and began making his way towards Arcan Castle’s keep. The two guards standing on either side of the doors opened them with their magic, allowing Star Swirl and Crescent passage through before the guards shut the doors once again. Crescent led Star Swirl into a room, Star Swirl turning to his guide as Crescent spoke.

“I’ll go wake Lord Rune. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back shortly.”

Star Swirl nodded as Crescent shut the door. Star Swirl walked over to one of the long, flat couches, gently settling the foal down against his flank as he looked around.

Large tapestries hung from the rafters, depicting the coats of arms or images of previous rulers of Arcan in moments of glory, whether in battle or in matters of rule. The room was mostly stone, though the seats were richly cushioned. A large fire blazed merrily in the hearth, keeping the room warm during the night for anypony who wanted a moment’s contemplation in relative comfort.

Star Swirl looked toward the doors as voices began to become audible through the thick wood.

“So you’re saying he brought a foal from an earth pony province that turned out to be a unicorn?” one voice was asking, its tone a deep bass that Star Swirl assumed was Lord Rune.

“That’s what he said, milord, yes,” said Captain Crescent.

“And he wants me to ward it?” Rune asked, his tone dripping skepticism.

“Yes, milord.”

The two voices stopped outside the door, Rune sighing. “And you say that the village was destroyed by the Great Prince’s forces?”

“That’s what the wizard says, milord,” Crescent said.

“Damn,” Rune muttered. “Well…who knows? It could work out. Taikus could use a brother. Ever since Blossom died…”

“I understand, sir.” Crescent said. “He’s waiting inside, if you wish to speak with him.”

“Very well,” Rune said. “Stand guard out here, Captain.”

“Will do, milord,” Crescent said, hooves clopping on the castle’s stone floor. They stopped a second later, a short burst of hoofbeats being followed by silence.

The heavy wooden door swung open with a burst of blue magic. Lord Rune of Arcan entered the room, heavy steps thumbing onto the woven rug on the floor. He was a large unicorn, rugged and muscular. His grey coat was immaculately groomed, his black mane tied up in three ponytails, the largest one running down the back of his neck and two other smaller ones on either side of his head. His blue eyes swept the room silently for a moment before turning his goateed muzzle over to Star Swirl’s position. His eyes locked first onto the wizard’s, then on the small foal wrapped protectively in his front legs.

“That’s him, then?” Rune asked as he walked over, his hooves quietly scuffing on the stone floor.

“It is,” Star Swirl said, looking down at the foal.

“And you brought him here, hoping I would raise him?”

“It would be too dangerous to take him to any other province.”

“All of Ebellon is dangerous,” Rune said. “The southern moors and the minotaur tribes. The mountains and the griffin keeps on their peaks with their lords watching the lands below, not to mention anything that may live up north, beyond the Great Forest in the farther reaches of the island. The deer and their Forestborn, and the dragons that live in the northern reaches. Even our lands aren’t safe. Brigands and bandits and warring lords. All of them are too busy fighting the enemies of their ambitions instead of the more pressing threats. Even Arcan is not safe. Even here, we have incursions of deer and their damned Forestborn, bandit raids and gods know what else.” He glared at Star Swirl. “We are our own worst enemy, as the saying goes, wizard.”

“Indeed,” Star Swirl said. “But you, my lord, are different, are you not?” Gently levitating the foal from his legs and getting off of the couch, Star Swirl walked closer to the unicorn lord. “You, unlike so many of the other lords on Ebellon, are happy with what you have. A son that loves you. Subjects that trust you and know that you will protect them. A large amount of good, fertile land that is not only easy to protect, but prosperous. You have everything you could ever want and more.”

“And this matters, why?” Rune asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because this is the sort of father this colt needs,” Star Swirl said, gesturing to the foal with one hoof. “A father that is ambitious, yet willing to place his subjects over his goals and desires. A father that is smart enough to know what he has and keep it running that way, or improve it. That is why, my lord.”

Rune stepped back a few paces from Star Swirl, then looked at the foal before walking over to him. “Does he have a name?”

“None that I know.”

Rune nodded slowly, taking in a deep breath then releasing it. “Very well.” He turned to Star Swirl. “I will take him.”

Star Swirl nodded, a smile forming on his lips. “Good. I do have one condition. I will come by

periodically to train him in magic.”

“Taikus already has tutors. Why can’t this one share them?”

“He can. I will augment his training, however.”

Rune sighed. “Fine.”

Star Swirl nodded. “Good. Thank you, my lord. I assure you, you will not regret this.”

“I hope not, wizard,” Rune said. Star Swirl nodded back before teleporting away with a small whisper of wind. As the magical residue from the wizard’s departure began to settle, Rune gently picked the colt up in his magic, walking over to a small couch close to the fire. Reclining in it, he laid the foal down against his side, watching the little pony’s chest rise and fall with its breath. “My adopted son,” he whispered softly, nuzzling the foal. “My little Taerus.”