Wyrmlysan
Wyrmlysan
*****
Three ponies stood before the cavern, the setting sun silhouetting them against the mountain ridge upon which they stood. One pony faced the cave, staring into the gaping hole which towered above her. Two ponies faced her, occasionally glancing at one another as if for support.
The first pony spoke. “It is here.” She said it with a quiet certainty, a surety which would brook no argument.
Nevertheless, the other two shifted uncomfortably. They made eye contact again, and by mute agreement one of them took up the burden of answering her. “With all due respect, Cirrus and I must disagree.”
The first pony’s gaze did not waver from the cave. “Nevertheless, it is here.”
“Princess, I’m sure you know more about dragons than either of—”
“We do.”
“...Than either of us, but there’s nothing about this cave that suggests it’s here. There’s no smoke coming from the entrance. There are no bodies, and no smell. There’s no sound, Princess. A dragon that size can’t help but rumble when it breathes.”
“It is not breathing.”
The two looked at one another again, consternation playing across their faces. This time, the other spoke. “You’re asking us to believe… based on this hunch of yours… that there’s a dragon in there, and it’s holding its breath?” He looked up at the cloudless sky. “There’s not even a trace of smoke in the sky. Just how long do you think it can go without breathing, Luna?”
“Princess,” she growled back, though she still did not look away from the cavern. “Or dost thou presume to speak with Our sister so familiarly, as well?”
Cirrus looked more resentful than abashed; he lowered his head in apology nevertheless.
Princess Luna took a testing sniff, then nodded. “A dragon full come to maturity may lie motionless, as if deathful, utterly still to its very lungs, for days. Some, for weeks.” Her tail swished. “One possessed of the knowledge of centuries—” her eyes narrowed as she spoke “—a condition thou shalt ne’er be troubled by—might learn many ways to mask the scent of decaying flesh.” She lifted a hoof, paused, set it down. “It is waiting. It knows We have come. But it cannot hide one sound.”
Cirrus bit his tongue, but his companion rose to the bait. “And what sound is that, Princess?”
She gestured with her horn, not once letting her gaze wander. “It is the sound of silence. Do you not hear it, Cirrus, Azure? The purity of the nothingness which surrounds us?”
Both ponies cocked their heads, twitched their ears. There was nothing.
“No birds, nor beasts,” Luna muttered. “‘Aye, though ye be mighty of Earth and Sky, each shall ye trammel in solitude. All shall flee before thy coming, an ye will or nay.’” She repeated, with all the finality of her first pronouncement, “It is here.”
Cirrus finally looked back at the cave. “Well, if you say so,” he said, uncertainly. “If it’s in there, though, then this stinks of a trap. We’ll have to—”
“Thou shalt await here,” Luna smoothly overrode him, turning as she spoke to address both ponies. “Thou as well, Azure. We shall essay the cavern alone.”
Both guards frowned, but it was Cirrus who spoke. “With all due respect, the Princess ordered us to keep you safe. We can’t—”
“Pray, do repeat thyself,” Luna said, with a sweetness which did nothing to mask the danger in her voice. “What hath the Princess ordered of thee?”
Cirrus bristled, and for a moment the dragon was forgotten. Azure whispered, “Cirrus…” then, caught upon the knife-edge of the conversation, lowered his head once again.
After a long moment, Cirrus inhaled. “The Princess,” he said through gritted teeth, “has ordered us to wait.”
“She hath,” Luna agreed. She frowned down at Cirrus, idly noting his golden armour, his close-cropped mane, his alabaster coat—and the stylized sunburst painted upon each of his flanks. “Do not forget that thou art of the Royal Guard, and though thy visage belies it, thou servest both of thy diarchs.” She returned her gaze to the cave which yawned before her, the tension fading as she did. “We shall return ere the moon must be raised. Await Us upon this spot.”
With smooth, unhurried steps, Princess Luna of Equestria entered the cavern.
*****
The passageway dwarfed Luna; a fissure through which twenty pegasai could walk with wings abreast marked its mouth, and the tunnel only grew wider as she descended. Soon the passage looped and dipped, and Luna found herself in perfect darkness.
She did not balk at the darkness; she was Warden of the Night, and the black of the cavern was nothing to the tenebrousness of the new moon. She did not balk at the silence; she was Guardian of Dreams, and the preternatural stillness of the cave was nothing to the true silence of the deepest slumbers. She did not balk at the weight of the stone above her; she was Mistress of the Moon, and the rock massed over her head was nothing to its weight and majesty.
She descended slowly, her only companion the echo of her hooves upon stone. After a time, she felt the air change; the passage had opened into a massive natural chamber. She paused, and above her heard a whisper which made stones tremble: “Thou shalt not take me unopposed, Wyrmandsaca.”
Without transition, Luna was engulfed in scoriating green flame. The stone around her liquefied, casting a red-black glow, its angry light echoing the discordantly violent jade of the inferno. She was alone in a world of all-consuming fire.
She did not balk at the conflagration which enveloped her; she was Matron of the Void, and no mortal fire could touch the endless cold of the nothingness between the stars.
When the fire ceased, she stood unharmed, her hooves sinking slightly in the glowing pool of lava which had coalesced beneath her. As she stepped lightly forward, a pair of eyes larger than Luna herself glittered high above, shining dully in the rocklight. Again, the deafening whisper echoed through the cavern.
“Thou art come to thy…” The voice paused, and the eyes came swiftly closer. Luna stepped free of the molten rock as the eyes approached, until the massive purple head which housed them was only a few lengths away from her, its size only hinted at in the swiftly fading illumination. They stared at her with unblinking intensity. Luna returned their gaze.
“We are not Our sister,” she whispered, her voice dwarfed by that of the dragon, yet no less dangerous. “We are not the Drakenbane.”
“...No,” the dragon breathed, its exhalation a fresh oven-burst in the fast-cooling air. “Thou art not Wyrmandsaca. Thou… you are the Other.” The head pulled back, out of sight once more save for the two glittering eyes. “Why have you come to this place?”
As the last light faded, eyes too faded from view. Luna was once more cocooned in darkness. Still, her gaze tracked its through the cavern’s unlight. “It is good that We are remembered amongst thy kin, who have forgotten so much.” Her muzzle furrowed, as she at last allowed her face to show a hint of anger. “Who have forgotten the friðgrið, it seems.” She lifted herself into the air, her eyes still locked with the dragon’s despite the darkness. “Thou hast committed murders against ponykind, against the oaths which bind thee and thy people; the lenity of We and our sister thou canst no longer claim, and thy life is forfeit.”
She felt more than saw the dragon’s nod. “Aye, it is; I will not deny my deeds. Yet… you are not Wyrmandsaca; you are not without nemægen. Will you hear my plea?”
Luna bristled. “Thou would charge us with weakness? Ill this becomest thou who beggest Us for clemency.” Still, she did not make any move to attack.
The dragon rumbled. “Is weakness not what ponies desire in their rulers? When I came upon the village, they begged me for mercy.” It lowered its head in submission. “Perhaps there is some nuance which escapes me. I meant no offense. Still, I ask not for myself, but for the Wyrmlysan.” The wyrm turned. “Come, and I will show you.” A pause. “Please.”
The dragon set off into the mountain, its footsteps reverberating through the walls. Luna considered, then followed.
The dragon could not live; by the ancient truce’s terms, any of its kind who took the life of a pony within the realm of the Princesses surrendered all protection from their wrath. Yet a brief delay could be allowed. The dragon’s behavior intrigued her.
Ere she killed this dragon, Luna intended to learn who—or what—the Wyrmlysan was, and why this dragon plead for mercy on its behalf.
*****
The chamber which Luna was led to was small, considering its inhabitant—perhaps a few hundred feet wide, and half again as tall. There was no hoard here; the dragon, it seemed, had not brought its trove. Luna paused to digest the implications. It did not intend to survive this transgression.
At the center of the chamber was a stone dais, glowing with a faint white light, and carved with symbols foreign to her. Upon the stone lay six pony corpses—and a single purple-spotted egg.
“I will not deny my deeds,” the dragon repeated. “Yet you must know their purpose, for it is condign to your kind and mine that these deaths serve a larger design. Behold—” he gestured at the dais “—the fægeorcanstan.”
Luna studied the rock, ignoring the bodies it bore. She frowned. “The fægeorcanstan has not been seen by any pony in millennia; many of my subjects believe it to be a myth. But even in those myths, it is known to be ensconced in the demesne of the wyrdraken. This cannot be it.”
“True. And yet you know that it is in sooth,” the dragon replied, settling its bulk so that its head rested near the dais. “You can feel its power.”
It was not a question; Luna did not bother to answer. Instead, she asked, “How, then, is it come before Us?”
The dragon sighed. “I shall tell you. Do your myths speak of the purpose of the fægeorcanstan?”
Luna glowered. “Thou forgettest whom thou doth address. We know more of thy kind than thou dost thyself, and need no myths to recall the Fatestone’s function.” She clipped the last word as she settled herself, her face and posture returning to the studied neutrality she had maintained since she entered the chamber. “Thy kin bring their eggs to the wyrdraken, that they may be placed upon the stone. It foretells their fortune, it is said.”
The dragon snorted, then carefully adjusted one of the bodies which its exhalation had jostled. “It is more than that. The stone tells of that which will be, and which may be. It speaks of destinies, and of possibilities. But that is but a part of its power.” It turned an eye to the stone, looking upon it with something akin to reverence. “It creates futures. The longer an egg rests upon the fægeorcanstan, the more set its prophecies become.”
Luna studied the markings on the rock once more. “And what prophecy is here writ?”
The dragon shrugged an eyebrow. “The symbols it speaks in must be interpreted; this is the function of the wyrdraken.”
“And what, then, was their reading?”
The dragon lifted its head. “I shall tell you, for their words are burned in my mind:
When magery writes life or death,
When theurgy brings newfound breath,
The Wyrmlysan shall rise in might,
Presaging triumph for the Light
And shall redeem the draken-line
In eyes of Pony, eyes Divine.
With heart of Equus, soul of Drake,
Their strengths in he a meld shall make.
When six are one, a One shall he
Make whole, and bring forth Harmony."
Luna cocked her head skeptically as the dragon finished. “How convenient that thy seers’ words should translate so smoothly to Equuish rhymes.”
“They were not translated. The prophecy was in thy tongue.”
Luna paused on the tip of speaking, unsure what to make of this revelation.
The dragon sighed, its breath another furnace-blast, and continued. “Never before has the prophecy been rendered in pony-speech. If the meaning was not portentous enough itself, surely that would be a sign.”
Luna nodded slowly. “How came the stone to this place?”
The dragon turned its head to face her directly. “I stole it.”
Luna looked sharply at the dragon, seeking any sign of falsehood. Finding none, she asked, “Thou hast stolen it? The most sacred stone of dragonkind?”
It nodded. “The stone’s words must come to pass. I slew the guardians and took the stone, flying to pony-lands like a thief in the night, that mine egg might rest upon it the longer. That the words would be set, and their promise guaranteed. Aye, and I would do it again, for the dragons must have their Redeemer.” It gestured around the chamber: a bare, natural cavern, cold and damp despite its occupant. “Save for my hoard, this could have been my home in the Terragon Range. It could have been any dragon’s.” It lowered its claw. “The great castles of our ancestors are distant memories; the dragon-kings are but legends which fire the imaginations of our hatchlings. Our numbers have shrunk with our land, and our culture has evaporated. We have become solitary and weak in our isolation.
“We must have our Redeemer,” it repeated, louder. “We must have one who will unite our kind once more. We must have a king!”
The chamber echoed with its voice. Luna waited until the echoes ceased, then finally turned her attention to the six corpses which surrounded the egg. “And these ponies?” she asked, her voice mild.
The dragon nodded. “When six are one,” it murmured, “and heart of Equus. I may not be trained of the wyrdraken, but I can read these portents well enough.” It gazed down at the bodies. “Six pony hearts for the Wyrmlysan. When I razed the town, these six were the first to rush to its defense.” It bowed slightly to the dead ponies. “Only the bravest shall be worthy of the Redeemer.”
Luna looked at the bodies impassively. “Thou hast broken the oaths which bound our peoples. Thou hast slain those whom We are sworn to protect.” She turned and faced the dragon. “Thou shalt perish this day.”
“I will not deny my deeds,” it said once more. “I only ask, in the name of your nemægen… your mercy… I ask that you spare my child. The dragons must have their king.” Its gaze softened as it looked to Luna. “The portents do not lie. He shall redeem us, not only for ourselves, but for your people as well. In eyes of pony, eyes divine.”
Luna glanced to the egg, then back. She did not answer.
The dragon reared back. “But now,” it rumbled, “the time for words is over. Come, oh Princess; I have no power to defeat you, but I shall not die a coward.” It sucked in a breath, preparing to unleash its fire.
Luna’s horn pulsed.
*****
Two ponies stood before the cavern, illuminated by the last rays of the sun. One pony faced it, staring into the gaping hole which towered above him. One pony faced west, watching as the sky began to darken. Both jumped as the stone beneath them suddenly spasmed, and a guttering roar issued forth from far below them. There had been intermittent jolts and rumblings for more than an hour, but this was an order of magnitude beyond any them.
As suddenly as it had begun, the shaking ceased.
“That’s it, I’m going in after her,” said Cirrus, turning away from the sun’s dying rays. He took a step towards the cavern, but Azure turned, stepping in front of him.
“She told us to wait here,” he said, for what seemed the dozenth time. “She ordered us, and she said she’d be back in time to raise the moon.” Glancing over Cirrus’s shoulder, he added unnecessarily, “She has a few minutes yet. We can’t—”
“There is no need for any further bickering,” said a voice from the cavern. Seemingly without transition, Luna emerged from the darkness. “Stand aside, that We may bring forth the night in peace.”
Cirrus rose from the half-bow which he and Azure had both dropped into upon her arrival. “Princess, I—”
“Aside, guard.”
Gritting his teeth, Cirrus moved away to stand beside Azure. In silence, the two watched as Luna’s horn lit with dark weaves of magic. As the last rays of the sun fell from the earth, another light rose opposite it. In moments, the moon shone down upon Equestria, its silver light a palliative counterpoint to the daytime's.
Her eventime charge fulfilled, Luna turned to the two guards. “The dragon is slain. Your services are no longer required; return to Canterlot bearing news that the oathbreaker is no more, and return to your duties.”
Cirrus bit back a comment, but Azure spoke in his stead. “Princess, we aren’t to leave you alone.”
Luna cocked her head, her lack of obvious anger more frightening than any bluster could have been. “We have made a decision. Henceforth, We shall give our orders but once. When thou returnest, Azure, inform Our Royal Guard of this as well. Inform them that the first to disobey a direct order shall serve as an instructive example of Our desire for obedience.”
The guards exchanged a glance. By unspoken accord, they took flight, banking away toward Canterlot.
When they were gone, Luna’s horn glowed once more. Out from the cavern’s darkness floated a single egg; a smooth, spotted, dragon’s egg, perhaps as large as her head. She set it on the ground before her and, after staring at it for a moment, sat down facing it.
Well did Luna know the seductive power of prophecy; she was Guardian of Dreams, and she had seen ponies project all manner of constructs onto the flimsiest of pretenses. The dragon had convinced itself that the egg before her held a new dragon king, one who would restore the lost glory of its people. The dragon had created a bridge to the future from wisps and shadows. Luna knew only too well that wisps fell away with the first winds, and shadows melted and died with the changing of the light; even if the whelp’s fate were writ by the stones themselves, interpretation was impossible.
Still, one line troubled her: Presaging triumph for the Light...
She stared at the egg for long hours, hardly aware of her moon cresting above her head, then beginning its slow descent. As it made its way downward, she grasped the egg with her magic and unfurled her wings. A few short minutes later, she sat at the very top of the mountain, the egg resting before her once more. Far below and to the west stretched a wide farmland, dotted with villages.
She scanned them with immortal eyes, searching for any life, any movement. There was none. She continued looking until the sun broke over the horizon, illuminating the valley. Until the ponies below rose from their slumber, coming forth to greet the day.
With the tenderness of a mother, she lifted up the egg. She stared at it for a long moment, following the pattern of its purple speckles, the minuscule ridges.
“Thou art not the Wyrmlysan,” she whispered, “and I fear no prophecy.”
With a single vicious spasm, she dashed it upon the ground.
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Harsh. Interesting portrait of pre-NMM Luna you've got here. You can already see how the ponies are drifting and gravitating towards her sister more and more. I liked the use of those foreign terms, it gave this whole tale a myth-like quality.
The depth here was just mindblowing. All the little details and mentions of greater things, the words in dragon tongue, it made the world feel broader. Plus, Luna's portrayal was fantastic. She was really consistent throughout and came off as a very strong character.
The ending was quite jarring at first, but after a second readthrough I think it was the right one. For spoilers' sake I won't go into details, but suffice it to say that it left me with a lot to think about.
Nice. You do a great job with implication throughout, such as with the tension of the interactions with the guards. Things must have been getting bad indeed, both with Celestia's trust and with their allegiances. At that point it can't help but end badly, prophecy or no.
I am really, really a fan of the never-stated implication that Spike will one day be the Dragon King, especially since the story's actions seemingly all but guarantee the show's S1E1. Prophecy indeed.
A few typoes you might want to ninja-edit away before the competition judging starts:
(The Wyrmandsaca is her sister; it's the titular Wyrmlysan she's curious about.)
(I would wish you luck, but, you know, fellow entrant and all that. … Eh, screw it. This is a good story and I wouldn't be ashamed to lose to it, despite you dashing my hopes of being the only entry with poetry in. So: Good luck.)
Also, are all your exotic words here Old English, or are they merely crafted to look that way? (I can't find "-lysan" in my references.) If you've got any Anglo-Saxon experience beyond random online dictionaries, I want to talk to you.
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I'm glad you both enjoyed! The use of foreignisms and hinting around things instead of being explicit was something I struggled to find the right balance with, so it's good to know you felt like I got it right.
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Yeesh, don't you hate it when your editing introduces more problems? For the record, those all came from me making fixes and changes after Pasco looked at the story, so don't blame him--I'm gonna go clean those up now.
And sadly, I know a lot less Anglo-Saxon than I pretend to. The words take Old English forms, and could be roughly translated if one were so inclined (e.g. -lysan is the root of both ransom and redeem), but they aren't Old English proper; just some linguistic playing around on my part.
I haven't read your entry yet, but good luck!
Excellent work, Chris. While reading, I actually forgot you were the author, so there's no hint of bias when I say I was impressed
I had more to say, until I realized I'm a total moron. I completely forgot the description said this is pre-NMM, so there was some confusion on my part as I'd been thinking this was after her return. The difference in speech between Luna and the guards didn't exactly help with that, so there's some criticism for ya
EDIT: Who in the world disliked this? Yeah, I'm not gonna call it the greatest story ever told, but there was absolutely nothing objectionable in here. I could see disliking one of the stories I've favorited sooner than disliking this one
Just wanted to add, if you ever decide to write an epic with an execution similar to this piece, I will gladly break my "no incomplete fics" rule to read it as each chapter comes out
OOH THAT ENDING. Yeah, I like this one. Word of the day: condign.
And fægeorcanstan. :V
Also you should have a closing quote after the prophecy.
Nice. Very rich language throughout. The narration was appropriately verbose considering our main character, and I was fond of the foreign words too, though I can't identify the language. Google seems to think it was Swedish, but I'm pretty sure it isn't. I also liked how much of the story was told through implication rather than definite statements, though it does bring up some ambiguity with the ending. Not sure if if it's meant to be implying that Luna killed Spike or not. I think so, but the lack of an AU tag has me doubting slightly.
A lot of these big words and dragon speak flew right over my head.
But hey, what I like most about this story is Princess Luna herself. I love how she seems colder and more ruthless than the "present day" Luna, and I love how she interacts with her subjects.
This is very different - I liked that. A nice take on Luna before Nightmare Moon. The end, especially, was jarring. But in a good way
A nice story. A prophecy where everybody see what they expect to see.
the lenity of We and our sister
Okay, I'm not a native Englsh speaker, but should not it be "of Us" instead?
Great story, I really liked it. There are just two things I didn't completely like.
First, I agree with Professor Oats; I believe the story would have been a little better anchored in time if the guards' speech pattern was closer to Luna's.
The second one is just a pet peeve of mine, and doesn't diminish your story in any way: it's just that I tend to enjoy the princesses more when they aren't depicted as all powerful beings.
Otherwise, I really can't find any fault in it, it was a joy to read
BTW, great job in leaving me stumped about the prophecy until, quite literally, the last line. It's rare to find a fic that properly foreshadows without giving away. Specially a fic this size that references events the reader already knows about
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I'm adding my interpretation below. The first spoiled line is the conclusion, the rest the explanation. It made complete sense for me, which usually means that I'm either completely right or completely wrong.
Twilight has a dragon's soul
The language seems to indicate that the being prophesied will have the pony language as his/her native language.
When magery writes life or death, / When theurgy brings newfound breath,
Killed by magic, reborn by the divine. The baby dragon will reincarnate. Luna apparently didn't get this, and destroyed the egg with magic, thus triggering the prophecy herself.
The Wyrmlysan shall rise in might, / Presaging triumph for the Light
This is the one that made Luna fear. She was already in the throes of the Nightmare, and this basically prophesies her defeat by the baby.
And shall redeem the draken-line / In eyes of Pony, eyes Divine.
This had me somewhat stumped. I believe it refers to Luna herself - draken, as far as I can tell, can refer to other large winged creatures of legend. An Alicorn fallen from grace might fit, thus those lines might refer to Twilight redeeming Luna in the eyes of her sister and the other ponies.
With heart of Equus, soul of Drake, / Their strengths in he a meld shall make.
This could be interpreted as having the temperament of a pony, but can also be interpreted in a more literal way. The dragon though, apparently, that the baby should eat pony hearts, but my guess is that it means the baby will be reborn in a pony body.
When six are one, a One shall he / Make whole, and bring forth Harmony.
Very clear reference to the Elements of Harmony.
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...Could be, actually. I'm not sure if it's what Chris was going for, but I like that interpretation.
Very enjoyable! Nice bit of misdirection and a very believable characterization of Luna.
Thank you all for the wonderful comments; they mean a lot to me!
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Me? Write an epic? Sure, if you don't mind waiting until 2053 for it to be finished.
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Glad you liked it. Also, good choice for a WotD; "condign" is one I'm rather partial to, myself!
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Thank you both for the comments! Having seen your ideas, I'm now rather reluctant now to reveal my own thoughts on the prophecy, other than to remind you that, as the first line of the description says, "prophecy is a dangerous game." After all, interpretation is everything
Or, simply refer to
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(And technically, both are wrong; it should read "our sister and Us," but I wanted to show a bit of Luna's character by having her place herself ahead of Celestia, and the We vs. Us emphasizes (albeit with incorrect grammar) the prominence she's given to herself there. Probably a case of me being to clever by half, but that was the logic behind it)
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Glad you liked it! Jarring was exactly what I was going for with the ending, so it's good to hear that it was "in a good way."
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Thanks! It's reassuring to hear that Luna's character came through clearly for you. And don't worry about the words washing over your head; they're made-up constructs from Anglo-Saxon roots (most of which I gave rough "translations" of in the text at some point, though not always with the full implications of the roots used), so all you're missing is some philological toying around.
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Glad you liked it, especially the misdirection bit; I had a bear of a time trying to balance how far to go on that front, so it's nice to hear that you thought I was at least close to the right level!
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And now you have made me even more curious about the prophecy. After all, if I got the first two lines wrong, then the whole rest is likely wrong as well
Though I do like the idea of the dragon soul
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I'll wait, but I expect the first chapter much sooner than that
Now I'm thinking I must've been completely off. I thought the Wyrmlysan was Spike
By attempting to break the prophecy, Luna all but assured its fulfillment.
How often that happens in magic realms! I mean, look at the whole Harry and Voldemort thing!
Let this be a lesson to all would-be villains out there! If magical fate things tell you yer kerfuq'd, ya might as well just stab yourself and be done with it, cuz yer gonna lose!
Clearly, Twilight's magical explosion merged pony and dragon souls and created Spike!
And now Spike has all da powers.
And immediately after this, Luna went nuts with doubt and dread (and hallucinations cuz she ate some weird berries. Don't eat weird berries and end up stumbling into something highly illegal) and went to the castle for what Twilight saw after drinking the past-view potion!
IT MAKES SENSE!!
Shouldn't this have a dark tag?
Wanted to lay off commenting for a while as my head wasn't is a good place when this went up. Now I seem to be in a strange place where I'm feeling less at easy with my usual highly-opinionated self. Luckily, it's you, so I have no fear of putting my foot in it!
I can't say I was very taken with the writing style in this one, but as is so often the case I am acutely aware of how much of that is just personal preference or at least contentious. Wasn't particularly in favour of the heavy stylised language, if only because it kept ruining my immersion.
On the upside, I can totally dig this incarnation of Luna. I had no trouble placing the timeframe, despite the lack of anything explicit, and the little character details really brought a well-considered and nuanced version of the best princess to life. The best thing, though, was the ending. But then, I don't need to explain to you how much I appreciate a sharp, dark twist of an ending now, do I?
I couldn't really 'get into' it as I would have liked, but a strong finish certainly left me with a smile. Now onto Thou Goddess, which I am not looking forward to responding to...
-Scott
P.S. I'd love to know why you went with [Tragedy] rather than [Dark], though.
It seems that you and I have through unspoken accord (to borrow a phrase of yours) created two highly similar short stories. They intersect, at least. In subject matter and many details they are nearly the same.
Yours is the better written, I'd say. This story right here, Wyrmslysan, drips with research and passion. And the ending was... unexpected. I was convinced this was an origin for Spike's egg, as is the link below, but now I'm unsure as to Wyrmslysan's placement on the timeline. Unless that egg survived her wrath.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LZ_ud40K3uIpJ9bkTSOSumFL5hXAvuRxfjzrPPOMUDY/edit?usp=drive_web
Hmm. Forgot this had a tragedy tag over the course of reading ig. Predictably thought it was Spike, and then was surprised. Presuambly as intended.
One comment: Personally dshaj thought all sfdlsfdlk constant vjdldflj was hdflsfd a bit fjdllkfds.
See, this is why prophecies are useless - they can be interpreted in so many ways, and if they are truly fated to be, then even caring about them is pointless because they're going to happen no matter what you do.
I do enjoy that both the dragon and Luna misunderstood it, though. Ah, the joy of prophecy.
good short interesting story. Like how you keep the prophesy ambiguous. Greenthumbed!
Oh, I do so love your portrayal of Luna, mid-fall.
And that wonderful ending. I was happily patting myself on the back for seeing what the prophecy was of course really saying, and then Luna upended everything.
Was not expecting that. Any of that. I kept not expecting things. And then bam.
That was a good read.
...I will admit, I did not expect that last line.
I was freely sifting through Bad Horse's faves when I came across this.
This is beautifully done! I love the style and tone. I also love seeing Luna written as a strong character, and your showing that - even as the sun rises at the end an no pony comes out until it does - she has some reason to feel slighted and disrespected by everyone, and how that sunrise would feed into her decision at the end.
I didn't predict the ending, but I could feel it heading the way it did so it wasn't a huge shock, but it was very well executed. And Luna's last line sounds very familiar; I want to say that it sounds like a Greek tragedy, but I can't place it yet.
Excellent story.
4027275 Well Spike would be the dragon king. . . except for the fact that Luna smashed the egg open. . .
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Leaving a prophecy unfulfilled, and a thousand years for destiny to figure out how to reassert itself …
Remember that the egg got smashed before Celestia and Luna's falling out, a thousand years before Spike's egg was laid.
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*jaw slowly opens as I read your comment and it all becomes clear*
I am thoroughly amazed. This is the kind of story that keeps me thinking about it for a while - my absolute favorite kind.
Amazing job Chris, 5 staches out of 5
The more I thought about this, the better it became.
That was not at all the ending I was expecting. Huh.
Really liked the portrayal of pre-NMM Luna, though. And the story as a whole, for that matter.
I'll echo this, though 4028672
Oh my, definitely one of those stories that reaches out and slaps you, right when you weren't quite expecting it. Well, on the first read through, saw it coming on the second.
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I just assumed that this dragon had nothing to do with the prophecy at all; she didn't understand it.
The funny thing about fate is that if it really is unchanging, then your attempts at manipulating it in this manner are futile; not only are you likely to cause trouble and pain, but it is likely to be useless because you misunderstood it.
A mythical Luna slays a mythical Wyrm and all but sets in stone the up until then freely interweaving possible timelines of a mythical prophecy. An enormous amount of information and world-building condensed into a comparatively tiny story.
Others have pointed out a few technical shortcomings which I agree with but that don't lessen the impact.
I can think of no better fitting portrayal of pre-NMM Luna in the millions of words I've read.
Bravo.
I have to agree with several others I've seen in the comments: this is, by far, the best pre-Nightmare Luna I've yet seen in writing. 'Fall of the Crystal Empire' on Youtube came close, but here we see the clear (and legitimate) roots of her frustration and anger rather than having them be vaguely hinted at, but without making her into a raging lunatic (LOL) prior to the Nightmare Incident.
As for the prophecy, the first thoughts that came to mind were that it sounded reminiscent of the lore surrounding the 'Elder Scrolls' Dovahkiin in reference to Twilight. Ignoring that, though, the implications that Spike is ultimately responsible for the Nightmare's downfall through Twilight are clever, subtle, and not entirely without merit. Carrying that further, Twilight's influence on Spike could very well mean that he is able to ultimately restore his own kind to prominence the way that the dragon here wishes him to. Not immediately, and not on his own, but a Redeemer he could become.
All in all, very well done. Thanks for a good read!
- Headwind
Very nice. Love me some archeoglotia here and there. I could hear the "HA! HUA! HAI" rhythmically pumping in the background.
My guess is, the egg didn't crack, and remained until the fated Final Exam?
The "special" words, despite how the author may perceive them, just make the interactions annoying to read. I get the desire to give the impression of culture on their part, but no. Just no.
Further, the open disrespect from the guards was ridiculous. I could understand her not being
appreciated like her sister, but she's still royalty and the conduct of those guards was incomprehensible.. And the order for them to protect her? When she can shrug off fire hot enough to melt stone? Cheap excuse for drama.
All that said, the end was... Well, it was interesting at the very least. I can't see even full-fall NMM smashing and killing an unborn dragon, though, especially after her interaction with its parent.. But I will admit that it's better than it actually having been Spike. I'm tired of seeing characters so wrapped up in mysticism and fate that they effectively become empty puppets with no victories of their own.
So... Yeah, no. Sorry, but I didn't like this. I realise it's harsh to say, but I really can't see anything redeeming about this fic.
Hey, I wrote a review of this story. In case you are interested, it can be found here.
Quite a bit late to the party, but this is certainly some outstanding work. I specially loved how much you hid inside the characterization.
As I said elsewhere, I think my problem here is that this story is just too clever for me! Very textrous (yes, it is a word, dammit) and with heaps of interest, but my poor old brain couldn't manage all the Equuo-Saxon stuff. Still very much upvote material, though!
The heck does that even mean?
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Late reply is late, but...
In the text, the translation "Fate-stone" is used, and that's a close enough translation for purposes of understanding the story. If you want to know more about the etymology, though: Fægeorcanstan is a portmanteau of two Old English words (note that fægeorcanstan itself isn't Old English; I'm just playing with word parts, basically). Fæge means "doomed," though "fated" is probably more accurate, as it refers to any prediction, prophesy, or the like which cannot be escaped. Eorcanstán (also written eorclanstán) literally translates as "precious stone," though in Old English writing it's often used figuratively to describe something of great value. In any case, stán is literally "stone," so a straightforward translation of fægeorcanstan might be "valuable rock of doom" or "flawless stone of fate," for example.
Incidentally, if eorcanstán looks at all familiar to you, it's probably via Tolkien, who anglicized the word and gave it to one of the most famous "precious stones" in his writing: the Arkenstone of Thrain.
Hope that answers your question! Probably in more detail than you wanted, but there you go.
Oh my! I've been reading your review blog for years, and yet somehow I've never read any of your fiction before now. I can be kinda useless like that sometimes
This is really something special. You manage to say so much with so little (you get an immediate sense of Luna's personality, and what a terrifying personality it is), and the writing itself is beautiful. And that's to make no mention of the superb world-building. There's just so much to love about this one.
Oh yeah, and the last line totally caught me off-guard, so there's that too.
All I can say after reading this is wow. This story did so much in such a small space. It built this whole story of resentment between the sisters without Celestia even being present, yet her shadow falls over all proceedings. Luna is fierce in this and full of mystery and secure in her own powers. It is easy to see how she might fall into the darkness soon after the events of this story, her characterization is that good. The ending though--completely chilling. With that action she undoes so much, the hopes and dreams of the mother and the potential the drake might have. It's more a sign of her jaded personality than near anything else in this story. Really, a masterpiece!
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All the better given the Dragon Lord stuff in season 6.