The golden ball shall set you free.
The young unicorn colt awoke with a start. Again the strange dreams haunted him, leaving him wide eyed with heavy breaths, and not a memory but those last few words..What could it mean?
The dryness in the air that made his skin crack and peel was made worse by the sickening heat that surrounded his body, causing discomfort. Drought was beginning to ravage the once prosperous lands of the Fantasian Fields. The grasses were dulling to a pale sickly yellow, and some patches were more brown then the dust that blew around the air coating everything with a layer of grime that gave the area a feeling of depression. Although it was barely summer, the wind whipped through the leafless trees around the Fields; they had lost their leaves not long after the drought began.
The unicorn's throat was parched but he did not seek out water. Instead he stood and stretched each aching limb. There would be much work to do today.
The unicorn shook his body for a moment, as a dog might worry his fur after becoming wet. He tried not to notice the grime of the dust and sweat mixed, clinging to his fur like oil. It had been a while since he knew what it was to be clean.
With a gentle sigh the unicorn left the small indentation in the grass where he had been sleeping. It was too hot to sleep indoors anymore, and the weather was too dry to cause much worry anyhow.
Around him the fields seemed void of others like himself. Had he not known that the others had taken what little shelter the barren trees had to offer, one might think that he would have assumed he had been abandoned, left to wander the world as a vrela.
Only the flush greenness of his mane tossing gently in the arid breeze gave any sign of vitality in the scene. All else seemed barren and broken, not unlike the dry grass that crumbled to dust beneath his hooves as he walked. The unicorn colt looked twice his few years. Unlike the flowing muscle and sinew that made up most equines his age, his ribs showed through his dull coat, and his stance kept his head always below the line of his neck, as though his head were a weight that left his neck teetering. His steps were slow and well placed, nothing like the bounding careless springs of most young equines.
He eyed the trees in the distance, and by squinting he could just make out the small figures of two equines under the largest oak. By their colors he knew it was Meadowsweet and Clover, two of the most important members of the herd.
As he approached them it was obvious that something was wrong. The two elders were arguing, and the look on Clover's face told him to keep quiet. Enthralled in their discussion, the two equines failed to notice the unicorn standing only feet away.
"You're a fool Clover," hissed Meadowsweet, her normally soft lavender eyes stone cold with anger. She stomped a hoof in irritation.
"We must! It is what the Great Rainbow desires! The dreams, Meadowsweet! How can you go against the word of our lord?" Clover trembled in his excitement. Despite his age, his unicorn stature was smaller than most. Some say that he had a rough childhood, and that was the reason why he never grew to full size. He was a well-respected member of the herd, however; his talent with magic made him a powerful figure.
Although the anger showed in the tense way she held her thin frame, the earther closed her eyes and gave a defeated sigh. When she opened them again they held only the burden of her worry, all traces of anger gone. The unicorn knew that Meadowsweet loved Clover too much to ever truly oppose him. Her voice was quiet as she murmured, "we lost another child last night. Poor Goldenrod's a wreck. I'd go to her now but I believe she and her husband Rathgar would prefer to mourn alone." With eyes showing only dry tears from wells too deep to imagine, Meadowsweet gazed away from Clover and deep into the heart of the woods. "Their child, Mala, was a mere foal," she added quietly.
Clover shook his head gently. He cared for the herd as much as any other. His heart and soul lay with these people. He believed in them as much as he believed in the teachings of the Rainbow. The path to the salvation of the herd, he believed, lay in the tales and legends of his people about the Rainbow. In his dreams, he could see the answers, though they were very fuzzy and needing of interpretation. To save the herds, he knew he had to follow those dreams, despite the hardships he may face. The word of the Rainbow was sometimes tough to follow and difficult to understand, but as an equine faithful to the Rainbow knows, the Rainbow does nothing without purpose.
Clover just wished he had the strength to follow those dreams.
The young unicorn colt awoke with a start. Again the strange dreams haunted him, leaving him wide eyed with heavy breaths, and not a memory but those last few words..What could it mean?
The dryness in the air that made his skin crack and peel was made worse by the sickening heat that surrounded his body, causing discomfort. Drought was beginning to ravage the once prosperous lands of the Fantasian Fields. The grasses were dulling to a pale sickly yellow, and some patches were more brown then the dust that blew around the air coating everything with a layer of grime that gave the area a feeling of depression. Although it was barely summer, the wind whipped through the leafless trees around the Fields; they had lost their leaves not long after the drought began.
The unicorn's throat was parched but he did not seek out water. Instead he stood and stretched each aching limb. There would be much work to do today.
The unicorn shook his body for a moment, as a dog might worry his fur after becoming wet. He tried not to notice the grime of the dust and sweat mixed, clinging to his fur like oil. It had been a while since he knew what it was to be clean.
With a gentle sigh the unicorn left the small indentation in the grass where he had been sleeping. It was too hot to sleep indoors anymore, and the weather was too dry to cause much worry anyhow.
Around him the fields seemed void of others like himself. Had he not known that the others had taken what little shelter the barren trees had to offer, one might think that he would have assumed he had been abandoned, left to wander the world as a vrela.
Only the flush greenness of his mane tossing gently in the arid breeze gave any sign of vitality in the scene. All else seemed barren and broken, not unlike the dry grass that crumbled to dust beneath his hooves as he walked. The unicorn colt looked twice his few years. Unlike the flowing muscle and sinew that made up most equines his age, his ribs showed through his dull coat, and his stance kept his head always below the line of his neck, as though his head were a weight that left his neck teetering. His steps were slow and well placed, nothing like the bounding careless springs of most young equines.
He eyed the trees in the distance, and by squinting he could just make out the small figures of two equines under the largest oak. By their colors he knew it was Meadowsweet and Clover, two of the most important members of the herd.
As he approached them it was obvious that something was wrong. The two elders were arguing, and the look on Clover's face told him to keep quiet. Enthralled in their discussion, the two equines failed to notice the unicorn standing only feet away.
"You're a fool Clover," hissed Meadowsweet, her normally soft lavender eyes stone cold with anger. She stomped a hoof in irritation.
"We must! It is what the Great Rainbow desires! The dreams, Meadowsweet! How can you go against the word of our lord?" Clover trembled in his excitement. Despite his age, his unicorn stature was smaller than most. Some say that he had a rough childhood, and that was the reason why he never grew to full size. He was a well-respected member of the herd, however; his talent with magic made him a powerful figure.
Although the anger showed in the tense way she held her thin frame, the earther closed her eyes and gave a defeated sigh. When she opened them again they held only the burden of her worry, all traces of anger gone. The unicorn knew that Meadowsweet loved Clover too much to ever truly oppose him. Her voice was quiet as she murmured, "we lost another child last night. Poor Goldenrod's a wreck. I'd go to her now but I believe she and her husband Rathgar would prefer to mourn alone." With eyes showing only dry tears from wells too deep to imagine, Meadowsweet gazed away from Clover and deep into the heart of the woods. "Their child, Mala, was a mere foal," she added quietly.
Clover shook his head gently. He cared for the herd as much as any other. His heart and soul lay with these people. He believed in them as much as he believed in the teachings of the Rainbow. The path to the salvation of the herd, he believed, lay in the tales and legends of his people about the Rainbow. In his dreams, he could see the answers, though they were very fuzzy and needing of interpretation. To save the herds, he knew he had to follow those dreams, despite the hardships he may face. The word of the Rainbow was sometimes tough to follow and difficult to understand, but as an equine faithful to the Rainbow knows, the Rainbow does nothing without purpose.
Clover just wished he had the strength to follow those dreams.