It was a bitterly cold winter's day, although it was hard to differentiate it from every day of the year up in the Godsreach Mountains. The Godsreach was the tallest mountain range in the world, towering over the Canterlotians far to the south. Here, Thousands of meters above sea level, where the air was scarce and food even scarcer, where snow coved the land all year long, was a path few dared to tread. The ancient stone staircase was once known as the 'stairway to the heavens' but as of late, the winding, treacherous pathway had a more sinister reputation, what with the layers of ice and chilling winds. In fact, Nopony had been seen going up or down the stairway in over a hundred years.
If anypony wanted to live up there, they would have to be the toughest and hardiest animals in existence.
And they were. Little was known about these ponies, but they were renowned for their toughness and tolerance to extreme conditions. They could cope with extreme cold and altitude that would bring many a pegasi to their knees. They lived in secluded settlements, constantly battling for supremacy over what little resources they could get their hands on.
Halgath was no different. It was a small village, about a dozen wooden houses surrounding a single longhouse, the communal meeting place and home of the thane. It lay in a mostly open area, just below the ridge between two mountains. The winding stairway was more than a league away, and the nearest village was even farther, making them relatively safe from attack.
They were not, however, safe from the elements. A gale force wind tore through the village, carrying snow and knife-like cold with it. Shutters were barred shut, and loose boards rattled in the wind.
In the longhouse, five figures stood, three on one side of the roaring fire in the centre of the room, two on the other.
One the side closest to the large double doors stood a powerfully built stallion, with a square jaw and a small scar on his cheek. Like all the ponies of the Godsreach province, he had thick, shaggy fur the colour of his mane around his wrists and ankles, the surefire way to identify one from a crowd of ponies. His cutie mark was that of a pickaxe. Standing next to him was a mare, lean but strong, pale of coat but with a darker mane, like many Godsreach ponies. In front of them, and facing the fire, was Riptide. A young colt at the age of six, it was already clear that he would never quite reach the size of his father, even though he would still be large. His coat was a light, nutty brown, and his mane was the colour of chocolate, if such luxuries had existed in the mountains. His eyes were the colour of sapphires, and he stood tall but nervous before the figures opposite him.
They were a pair of Stallions, each just as large as his father, easily recognisable as the thane's advisor on the left, and the village doctor on the right. The doctor leaned forward, his feather-strewn braids swaying about his ears.
"Now, we must ask you, one more time, to say something. Anything at all, but say something."
Riptide was now six years old, and had never uttered a word in his life. Everypony was worried, most of all his parents.
The doctor turned to them. "I'm afraid if he is not intelligent enough to speak, then we may have to re-evaluate his position in Halgath. I'm sorry."
Snowflakes falling, Riptide's mother, had tears running down her face.
Stone shod, his father, was wearing an unreadable mask, unwilling to show any emotion, especially in front of a mare, even if she was his wife.
"Please son, just try to say something." Snowflakes said, fear in her eyes. Riptide looked back at her frantically, worried for his mother.
"Now, son." His father's deep voice was stern, but he could sense the worry behind it.
Again, Riptide opened his mouth and strained, but nothing came out. He tried and tried, until a vein appeared in his forehead, but still not a peep. The doctor frowned disappointedly.
"I see. Mr Stone shod, Mr Anvil? Will you come with me to the back room? I think we need to discuss this at length." His father and the Advisor nodded, and they made slowly for the back room. There was silence in the longhouse save for the crackling of the fire. However, just as they drew close to the room, Riptide felt a spark in the back of his mind, and a fire in his throat. In surprise, he opened his mouth, and the energy exploded outward.
"NO!" He shouted. But it was more than just a shout. It was a surge of power, racing forward with a bluish tinge, putting out the fire in an instant, surging through it and continuing onwards to the ponies at the other end, staggering his father and dashing the doctor and advisor against the far wall. He immediately clapped his hooves to his mouth, and cowered to the floor. What did I just do? He thought to himself.
Dazed, the three stallions stood back up, not seriously injured, but scattered with ashes and charcoal from the fire. The doctor galloped over to him, closely followed by his father and then the advisor.
"You!" He shouted. "Do that again!"
The young colt looked pleadingly at his mother, who's eyes darted between that of her child, the doctor and her dazed husband. Finally, she broke the silence by saying:
"What in the name of the gods was that? What is wrong with my son?" She looked distraught, and the doctor took a step toward her.
"I am unsure at present, but I believe he may have been blessed – but it may also be a curse. I think your son has the power of the Godsong."
"T-the godsong?"
"Yes. His voice holds truly incredible power, and he may even be able to speak the words the angels use to shape the universe. However, it cannot be stopped."
"Do you mean that…?"
"Yes. Unfortunately I do. Every sound he utters will have uncontrollable destructive power.
Behind them, Riptide uttered a small squeak of fear. The sound, although quiet, seemed to echo around the room, and the force of his voice smashed straight through the floor of the longhouse, cracking the sturdy foundation and shaking the whole building slightly. The faint blueness that accompanied the sound dissipated slowly.
The doctor turned to the advisor. "Quickly, get the thane. He will want to hear about this." He then turned to Riptide's stricken parents. "Can he write?"
Stone shod nodded warily.
"Good. I'm afraid that is the only way he will be able to communicate, lest he kills us all by accident."
Yes, I'm sure the more eagle eyed readers amongst you might notice a few similarities between this story and Skyrim, and to be perfectly honest, some of the inspiration came from there. But that's as far as it will go. This is NOT a crossover, nor will it even remotely follow the storyline of Skyrim. Riptide is a character I've been thinking about for a while, and I'd rather not have anypony tell me I'm ripping off anything. Also, Riptide will never say Fus Roh Daah. Just saying. He will have some relevance later, but it's nothing to do with killing dragons or anything of the sort.
Sorry for making you read my ramblings, I just had to get it out in the open now. As always, please give me any and all criticisms you might have.