Equestria began their excursions into the Frozen North by the decree of Princess Celestia.
Diplomats. Dignitaries. Politicians. Preachers. All spreading their sacred friendship rhetoric. Peace and friendship among the free ponies of the world.
With friendship came messages of freedom. With foreigners came foreign culture and legislation.
The more pacifism Equestrians displayed, the more the North was open to their great numbers.
Old conflicts lasting centuries were suddenly buried with the help of the magic of friendship.
The rigid traditions along with all social norms began to change from within.
The magic of friendship replaced the archaic ways of the everlasting alchemical doctrine.
Hooves and paws all held each other in a circle of tranquility.
There was peace in the North.
Town of Northmouth.
Formerly: Gamlir Bruggarar/Old Brewers tribe.
A young gray colt sat by a small wooden house on a bench. Held in a hoof was a bottle of cider, empty of course. 'Produced and distributed by the Apple family of Ponyville Town. Greatest cider in the world!' the label read. With disdain, he threw the empty bottle in the garbage can.
More than enough trash had made its way from Equestria to his tribe.
One could make a solid argument after looking around Northmouth; this wasn't a tribe any longer. Modern houses built from stone and metal. Paved streets and roads all around. And barely any natives roaming about. Mostly just Equestrians.
Bronze sighed in an exasperated manner. Every time he looked around, he was reminded that this wasn't his home anymore. This was a mockery.
Where was Spaven? Where was his brother now? Probably still in the medicine store.
Just as that thought flashed in his mind, Bronze felt something yank on his blond braid.
"Ghah!," blindly he swatted away at whoever it was that dared to touch it. Turns out, it was his brother, returning from medicine shopping.
"Bróðir! Ég sagði þér-" Bronze spat in a displeased tone.
Only to be shushed into silence by Spaven. "Shush, Bronze. Equestrians don't like our tongue. Do you want to be written up again?" Asked the dark earth stallion pointedly.
Bronze and Spaven. Brothers in tribe and blood, both ponies of the earth race. Bronze was a light gray colt, with blue eyes and a blond mane that ran down his back in a braid. He styled it in the traditional way of his tribe. Yet that was all there was to his appearance. Just a runt of a colt.
On the other side, there was Spaven. Even though he was seventeen, a single year above Bronze, Spaven was already much bigger than his 5'5 brother, standing at a whopping 6'3. He was the epitome of earth pony excellence. His coat was black and shimmering. His face wasn't soft like Bronze's, it was well-chiseled and with a strong jawline. And yes, even mares were oftentimes jealous of Spaven's luscious locks of sandy blond hair. The same mares that would swoon over his deep voice, while paying no mind to the scratchiness of Bronze's squawking.
And despite all of those qualities, all that natural perfection faltered. For at the top of his head, bandages tightly wrapped around his crown.
Spaven took a seat by the bench and immediately went on to nudge the smaller blonde. "Don't sit like that."
"Like what?" Bronze asked while attempting to ignore his brother's annoying nudges.
"Like a biped. You know how those Equestrians get," Spaven answered in mock suspicion while looking around.
Grumbling and cursing under his snout, the gray colt adjusted his sitting posture, "Grandfather wouldn't have stood for this."
"Did you forget? Grandfather was a cutthroat griffon pirate," replied Spaven as a matter of fact. "It's not possible to pinpoint what he would've stood for exactly."
Yes, both young colts were descendants of a hybrid pony. A fact Spaven was proud of. "Alright, wise-butt. You told me that a million times already," Bronze answered with a relaxed smile. The both of them settled into a comfortable silence.
Bronze glanced at Spaven. The black colt looked like a mountain, tough and immovable. Somepony who looked like no problem in life could ever bring him down. Somepony to be admired. And yet as the scrawny blonde looked ever downward, he saw those empty hooves of Spaven, and the admiration in his face slowly melted away. It was replaced by worry.
Empty hooved again. Bronze said not a single word to his brother. Instead, he opted to simply sit by their home and enjoy the silence. Since he already knew, this moment of peace wasn't going to last.
"Have you fed her?" Spaven asked while keeping his eyes on the horizon. The ugliness of the town soiled his mood.
"She refused to eat. Tried five times already," Bronze droned out like a robot. His distant look matched Spaven's. It was one of the few qualities they shared.
"Do you remember what we will have to do when she passes?"
"Don't say that. She's a strong mare. She bested wolves, remember?" Bronze suddenly replied in a far more heated tone.
"That was years ago, brother. Time catches up with us all."
Their grandmother was on the way out. It was anypony's guess as to how much time she had left now. Days? Hours? Bronze didn't even want to be in the house anymore because of that. He didn't want to see the mare he admired so much suffer like this.
"Maybe the Spire needs more potion makers," Bronze finally replied to Spaven in a defeated sigh.
"The epicenter of all problems? You wish to become a factory worker like half of our entire tribe?"
"You forget we are no longer a tribe. We are 'Citizens of Equestria. Under the protection of love and friendship!'" Spat the gray colt, mockery for the kingdom with scorn.
The black stallion immediately snapped at his smaller brother, "Shhhh...seriously. Any more and they will put us away for 'rehabilitation'. And then we will become a bunch of wolf-hugging morons."
Bronze merely scowled and didn't retort.
"Do you remember?"
The blonde nodded solemnly.
They were one-quarter griffon, both of them. Meaning that with their last family member passing away and with no marriage partner found, they will be exiled. Or at least under the old tribe laws, they would've been. But with the way things were going in this part of the North, both Bronze and Spaven agreed to uphold their traditions. If anything, it was a convenient excuse to leave Northmouth.
Even though abandoning their tribe felt as horrible as it could get.
"Well, we should go check if she's awake," Spaven grunted as he got up. His snout drew back in a snarl as a pang of pain shot through his body.
Bronze noticed but again said nothing. No comments would help here.
No sooner than the black colt touched the handle of their door, they heard a particularly unwanted noise.
"Good afternoon, fine lads of the land! How's it going?"
It was Shining Shield. An appointed captain of the guard in the town of Northmouth.
"Damn it," the both of them said in unison. But it was Bronze who turned around to greet the equestrian. "Good afternoon, sir. How may we help you today?"
Before answering, Shining Shield, accompanied by two other guards, entered their yard.
"It's inspection day! We just want to make sure you're not making or distributing illegal substances is all. You understand, right?" Said the captain as if he was talking to a newborn foal. With a smile, he went on to remind them, "Standard and random procedure, like always."
Both northerners shared a look among themselves. They knew it was a load of lies. These checks weren't random. Anypony with half a brain figured it out by now.
"We understand you don't check equestrians, or those goddamn wolves," the blonde muttered angrily.
"What was that?" inquired the captain after pausing in his step. Perhaps he didn't hear him properly, but that sounded like a xenophobic expression. For which Shining Shield was more than happy to write them up with a fine.
The young northerner realized he should correct his mistake. They were pushing on the brink of attracting actual trouble. "I said we understand and that you didn't come in for a check last week."
"Oh we had some troublemakers to deal with on the other side of the town. Wolves. You know how they get during a full moon, hahaha…"
"Yeah. We do," Bronze replied, this time not even bothering to hide his intense animosity. The 'we,' was very obviously accentuated, implying only northerners fell in the category of understating it.
"Well, let's not stand here with our hooves freezing. Show us inside, please~"
It was the large glossy stallion that opened the door and pushed it aside, begrudgingly of course. Two of the guards went in first, passing by Spaven with worried glances. Shining Shield went in right after, with a smile no less.
Those green eyes filled with mistrust and spite looked at Bronze, "Quath the Acolytes: We're all equals..."
Bronze only nodded in agreement, "What a load of sh-"
The house of Johnsons was thoroughly searched. Every nook and cranny. All the cupboards, their wardrobes, the latter of whom were empty. The bath, the cellar, everything. And much to the great dismay of the brothers, the equestrian guards snooped around in their grandmother's room too.
Spaven and Bronze remained on the first floor, living room. The tension in the room was heavy to take for private Eel Sweep. Just like Shining Shield, the young guard was accustomed to natives smiling and shrinking under his law-enforcing presence.
The two colts looked at him like they wanted to rip him apart. Especially the black one. He had more than animosity in his green eyes. It was thinly guarded bloodlust.
"...uhm. You know, in Equestria we usually sit down and share a cup of tea or coffee. It helps to get acquainted and ease the...awkwardness."
"Then you should go back to Equestria," Bronze spoke out instantly, his tone terse. Spaven nudged his brother afterward and shook his head.
"F-fair point..." Eel stuttered. The unicorn felt the need to make himself invisible right now. These two put him on edge.
Luckily it seemed the inspection was coming to a close. Clicks of hooves from upstairs announced the captain's and the other guard's return. His horn was glowing with magic, telepathy holding in the air a pair of wooden spears. They were crafted really well.
"What did we talk about? This is your second warning now." Shining Shield addressed the two ponies with a scowl. He knew what possession of spears implied when northerners had them. Training for battle. And if these northerners trained for battle, it meant they were still using that insidious method of movement. "You can't walk on two hooves anymore. It upsets the others. And making these is forbidden. Will I actually have to take you two in?"
Standing on two legs and spears in hooves. The greatest amount of reach possible. That's what northern tribes used oftentimes. It was the greatest way to defend against wolf clans that threatened them for generations before recorded history. Training with spears and hoof-to-hoof combat on two legs was a constant routine in their day-to-day lives. For every northern, Bronze and Spaven too.
"No, officer. It will not happen again," Spaven spoke up in that deep tone. All eyes fell on him, like they always do. He was in a rush to cut in before Bronze could speak up. "Of that, you can be sure. Me and my brother are just so bored sometimes while watching over our grandma. I'm sure you understand, we need our exercise to stay healthy."
The captain sighed and fiddled about with the small bag at his waist. He considered taking them to the station. But in the end, he decided against it, those two were just colts after all. "Very well, your last warning. Third time is the charm, right? No more weapons. Especially spears. And no...no more monkey walking." In the eyes of many equestrians, walking on two hooves was outright weird and even creepy. Not that he needed to tell that to these two colts. Every northerner was made aware of the new laws in this stubborn kingdom. Through one way or another. "I'm doing you both a great favor here, so don't forget it."
"Yeah. Don't forget it," Eel Sweep cut in with a snicker.
"Private? If you mind..."
"Sorry, ehehe..."
Shining Shield passed the two spears through telepathy to the other guards and ordered them to go. The captain himself stopped in the middle of the doorway. Over his shoulder he turned to address the small family, "You two should consider signing up for the Friendship Center. It'll help you a lot. Many ponies have come to terms with the new way of life and even come to appreciate it. Some of them outright love it."
Bronze had to use all of his willpower to prevent himself from muttering 'Brainwashing Center.' He gave Spaven a cold look, but the elder shook his head discreetly.
Spaven sensed his brother's over-spilling animosity. That and he could tell by looking. So he put a comforting hoof over the smaller pony and replied to the guard captain, "We will talk about it tonight, sir."
"See that you do. At ease, citizens." Before he left, he nodded at the blue piece of fabric proudly displayed on their wall like a painting. It was the flag from their grandfather's ship. "Take that down. Aggressive iconography isn't allowed here anymore."
And the captain was polite enough to close the door on the way out.
Bronze was huffing through his nostrils like an angry bull. In the ensuing silence of the home, it was very noticeable. He wanted to chase them down. Catch all three, beat them within an inch of their consciousness, and throw them out of his land.
There was Spaven too, who was silently looking out the window and wondering; could he get away with murder?
Their weapons, confiscated again. Their ways of defending themselves against wolves that lived in their very town thwarted.
It was later in the afternoon that young Bronze was sitting in the kitchen and eating. It was that equestrian imported slop since they could no longer have any farms or herbal gardens. And as he shoved a spoon of oats in his mouth, a newspaper was held in the other hoof.
Written upon it nothing but propaganda nonsense. Inconsequential stories of daily life equestrian schmucks who speak of their experiences. A load of stories about 'happy' northerns too. Certainly not a single story about wolf-related incidents taking place. Of which Bronze could count four in this week alone.
In terms of demographics, his tribe...no, this town, was equally divided between migrated equestrians, northerns, and wolves. And four related assaults occurred from what he heard. Was it those damned canines? Of course it was. But the equestrian authority would cover for them. For whatever cursed reason.
What frustrated him even more was the fact that there hadn't been a pony versus wolf conflict in over ten years. Training bipedalism, martial arts, spear combat, all of that had become a novelty tradition instead of a genuine need for self-defense. Old conflicts had cooled off over time as they entered a period of peace. Pony tribes and wolf clans were content to live in their separate areas.
That was until Equestria showed up and pushed them all together into towns. It was all done under a very disarming lie. 'We can all live together in peace!'
Just thinking about how three wolves cornered his poor old grandma last year made his blood boil. They cannot live together and they never will.
This naive idealism of Equestria already cost northerners many lives. A number that keeps rising each passing year.
And the disrespect, the dangers, and the desecration of their culture keep mounting every year.
Bronze pushed aside the newspaper and the half-empty bowl. Too frustrated and angry he was to eat or read mind-numbing nonsense.
Istvan and the Spire seemed like the best course of action to take. Although it was the center of all disappointment, it surely can't be as bad as the surrounding towns. Right?
As the setting sun painted the willows and birches red, Bronze found it the right time to go check up on Spaven.
He ascended the stairs and went into his brother's room. The large stallion was laying in the bed, his front hooves firmly grasping each other. They were shaking violently. Beads of sweat were forming at this brow. And his face was scrunched up with intense effort.
On the nightstand, there was a vast array of ointments and creams, pill bottles, and packs. The pain medication Spaven was using no longer worked. It was why he was out today in the medicine store in the riskier part of town. He was looking for a different brand.
"Those imported Equestrian medications aren't working. I need natively grown..." Spaven grunted painfully, one eye open and looking at Bronze for help.
The younger colt with a pained expression trotted up to the bed and placed a comforting hoof on the black pony.
"You got that classic bruggarar mark. Think you could whip up something for me?"
Bronze's 'cutie mark' as the equestrians call it, was a potion of green color. He got it by accidentally brewing poison instead of a magical healing potion.
"Not without tripping magic alerts..." Replied the blonde with a crestfallen look. Alchemy was outlawed in these parts of the north. Even talking about it attracted attention. And without alchemical assistance, all that was left were apothecary remedies and chemical medicine from Equestria. Neither one of those options could help Spaven in any capacity.
If at least he had some basic native herbs, the gray colt could so easily craft an infusion. That would take away his brother's pain.
Even through great pain, Spaven noticed the look. He hated that look. Once his brother got an idea, there was little anypony could do to stop him.
"I'm going out for herbs," Bronze announced hotly and sprang from his brother's side.
Spaven sat up in his bed suddenly, a sharp pang of pain immediately put him on the pillow again, "Ghah! No! If you pluck a single one, it will alert the rangers!"
Bronze stopped by the door. He was debating whether or not he should tell him. "I'm...not looking for herbs under conservation wards."
"Aconites..." Spaven whispered with a distant look of nostalgia, "...you won't find any. Not anymore."
"Well, I have to try. You wouldn't let me be in pain."
"It's okay, it will be over by the morning," lately that was all he could do. Suffer until sunrise. And still, he looked handsome like always.
"To hél with that," Bronze spat back in a hiss and went out the door. Silently of course, he didn't want to wake their grandma.
The dark stallion could only watch and sigh in defeat. Always rushing into things that one. When will he ever learn?
Bronze scouted the forests near Northmouth until the sun hid beyond the distant fjords and mountains. Under the canopy of rowans and birches, Bronze searched and searched. Checked behind every mossy log and stump. Every tiny stream and willow shrub. The pony was finally forced to take a small rest under a massive aspen that strap sprang into the heavens themselves.
Aconites. A flower deeply tied with protection and comfort for all northerners. As the old sayings go, those flowers could ward off the evil of wolves. And in a way it did, since northerners not only grew them for traditional beliefs, but also defense. The extract from dried leaves and roots of those flowers was often used to craft poison for their spears. In a metaphorical and literal sense, it was a real bane for the wolves.
Yet another deeply cultural aspect for the northern tribes that Equestria's rule and law deemed problematic for the changing demographics. Now the surrounding forest floors and grassy hills had not a single aconite remaining. All thanks to the equestrians. And they weren't placed under the 'Nature Conservation' wards like the other herbs were. What a clever way to take out something they deemed 'problematic.'
Bronze scoffed and finally pushed himself off the large tree. Enough resting. Time to go home and feed grandma. No, no! First, stop by the medicine store. Even if it was located in a more dangerous part of town. On his back, he made sure to curse out a birch tree.
Perhaps they will have some new painkillers. Even if it's unlikely that they will, considering Spaven returned with empty hooves.
As the smaller earth pony made it back into town, he was looking around the so-called 'tribe.' It had transformed into this foul caricature. A modernist town with winding roads leading to several different other towns and villages.
Everywhere he looked in this street, there was a wolf or an equestrian. Little to no northerners anymore.
And why would there be? They had meat and bone shops for crying out loud! Wolves gnawing on bones in the middle of the street. Trash littered all concerns he could see. Filthy savages they were, every last one. He could hear a few rutting each other in a nearby alleyway.
Bronze just kept his eyes forward as he walked. Ignore it, ignore it all, maybe it will get better...
The same alleyways had graffiti. A single violet eye. Symbol of Eye Ridge wolf clan, imagery of canine blood god. The tribes' ponies called it Kýklópar í Birkinu. Cyclops in the Birches. Underneath each one, there were layers of dried-up blood running down the walls. An offering. Hopefully it was a placebo offering from one of those meat shops, rather than a living one.
And how is it that such a worship of a foul deity was allowed, while all talks of alchemical reverence for life was forbidden? Was it because ponies are good-natured by default? Was it to avoid a conflict? Was it because a peaceful outlook on life was easier to command, rather than one that promotes violence? These Equestrians resolved to allow the most foul and macabre behavior in exchange for the complacency of those monsters.
He shook his head quickly. No, he shouldn't think about it. He was just stressed about his grandmother and brother...
Bronze always wondered, how could the tribe chieftains betray them like so. Their quote-on-quote 'leaders,' sold out their tribes in exchange for the illusion of more control. Each tribe chieftain where Equestria was in control, they were elevated to a prestigious position of 'mayor.' Completely ignoring the fact that they have nothing. They are mere puppets whose words are dictated by equestrian acolytes and captains.
Again, the young colt forced those facts out of his mind. Stay focused. Where was the medicine shop in this dump?
As the gray pony rounded the corner, much to his disappointment, he found that today he wouldn't be able to get Spaven any medicine.
The street was blocked off by a crowd of ponies and wolves. They were all huddled around a big building that was aptly named, "Friendship Center." It was a community center of sorts where everypony could get together.
Bronze went on to rear up a little. Just as he thought. Several guard carriages were parked in the street too.
Something was happening.
The young colt approached the crowd and slipped between the many tightly packed bodies. There had to be at least a few hundred ponies and wolves here. He slipped to the front of the crowd after several minutes.
He found a vast array of Equestrian guards forming a defensive wall with shielding magic from their horns.
His snout scrunched up. Gross. These northerners to his left were drunk off cider. Without traditions, alcoholism ran rampant across the natives. After all, it was the most easily accessible and fastest way to get a boost of "happiness." Forget your woes with a quick shot of this fine apple cider.
His feathery ears swirled in the direction of the Friendship Center.
The large double doors had finally opened. A wolf from the clan of Eye Ridge was being led away by guards. He was in shackles, only on the front paws. That elongated snout was covered in blood.
"What happened here?" Shouted some bright-eyed northerner at the front of the crowd.
The poor stallion was immediately pushed back into the gathered numbers by a guard, "Sir, you're being too aggressive. Please step back."
"Hey, no! What the hél happened here?" Demanded the earth pony.
Muttering among the crowd became loud as they watched the wolf being led toward the guard carriage.
"They were just talking and he just...attacked. With no warning. Ripped that foal's throat out..."
Bronze heard it. He heard it all as he observed the scene before him. He heard the rumors among natives. But he never actually thought he would see it live. Right in front of his eyes. It was shocking, to say the least. A real hard reminder of the factual reality he was facing.
"Everypony, disperse! There's nothing for you to see here!" Shouted an acolyte of Equestria, one of many preachers of friendship. "It was nothing but an unfortunate accident! Please, return to your homes!"
"You see that? Do you all see this?! This is what these liars force us to live with!" Roared another gray stallion from the crowd and sent a bottle of cider at the wolf. It shattered against a magic shield of the guards.
Almost instantly, he was shouted down by equestrians to either calm down or leave.
The armored acolyte in all white and gold nodded at the guards like a machine. The row of shields was lowered and their horns began to glow a soft pink light. Enchantment magic for the mind! It was to disperse feelings of intense animosity.
Many northerners saw no difference between this and transmutation magic used to manipulate the mind, ergo; free will. Which was a tremendous taboo for both northerners and alchemists.
Bronze was among those who also saw it that way. His ears pressed to his skull as a snarl crept to his face. He backed away before he got caught in its effect. He should leave. But for the life of himself, he couldn't bring himself to peel his eyes away from this situation.
It was the right picture at the right moment that invoked his feelings.
Equestrians defending the enemy of the northerners so hotly, while the beast itself was getting carried away in thin shackles that he could easily escape from. All the while their guards worked to dissipate any form of resistance.
A thought finally dawned on Bronze after four years of Equestrian rule over the north.
Every northerner was trapped in their own home. With predators lurking around each corner. And their handlers will do nothing but defend it.
The blood on the canine's maw. Bronze zeroed in on that crimson substance as the metal carriage doors closed. That came out of a small and innocent filly.
Blood and feces. That's what every northerner will be reduced to.
And as the gray colt slinked back into the crowd, for the first time in his entire life, rage was coursing through his veins.
Equestria began their excursions into the Frozen North by the decree of Princess Celestia.
Diplomats. Dignitaries. Politicians. Preachers. All spreading their sacred friendship rhetoric. And the tribes believed them.
With friendship came the lies of freedom. With foreigners came foreign laws and control.
Old conflicts lasting centuries were suddenly rekindled with the help of the magic of friendship.
The rigid traditions along with all social norms that protected the natives began to disappear from within.
The magic of friendship replaced the reverence of balance and love of alchemical doctrine.
Hooves and paws tried to hold each other in a circle of tranquility, and they failed.
Peace in the North was a lie.