So troubling when the evils you’ve only heard of in whispers suddenly became real and you realized that they were not monsters at all – just men. In some ways that made them more horrifying because men were capable of great evil, but the scariest of all was that you could be wrong. That they were only just men you were trained to believe were evil. Ulrik was one of these creatures. He was not inherently evil, but he was a villain in this story. Like any villain, he had his reasons, most of them honorable and corrupted somewhere along the way. He thought himself superior to all others because of his old and pure bloodline, but that did not mean he hated the others for what they were. In fact, he pitied them, and pity was an emotion that was incredibly human. In order to feel pity, one first had to feel.

Right now though, for whatever reason, Ulrik was a teacher, and he wanted desperately for his student to learn. He let her name bounce across his head, looking down at the dog, Romul, and then snorted at her second thread. The stallion rolled his eyes slightly, but in a good humored way. “I do not need to restrain both, Essetia,” he said, copying her tonal inflection. “I doubt he would leave you to your own devices, and Kirchoff could chase him down; Kirchoff is very fast.” Unnaturally fast. His superspeed ability made him almost invisible save for trails of silver from his smoking marking and eyes. Ulrik cleared his throat slightly and then smoke, the ascend of his passions raising his voice.

He boomed, voice thundering as his muscular form seemed to grow. Thick cords of meat rippled beneath his taut skin, nostrils flaring with the strength of his beliefs. Ulrik laughed shortly at what she said, though it was a very wise point. “No, they cannot remain peacefully ignorant, for that implies that they are both ignorant! Trade and protection are important. By denying friendship, they became enemies, and thus your herd, which you blindly follow, is open to our attack.” The stallion hissed out these words, waving his long, lion’s tail around his hocks.

“And what point is that, dear Essetia?” he asked pointedly. “That alliances mean nothing? That we should just leave you alone even though your precious Midas refused our offer of friendship? And yet your herd is allied with those we also call friends. The prejudice lies on your leader’s inability to see beyond his own paranoia to do what is best for his herd and what is best for you!” He yelled. “Here you are in my clutches when you could be safely tucked at home without fear. We could be working toward mutual gain instead of constantly escalating our efforts to ensure that your herd and its denial of our request does not turn hostile.”

“When one does not ally you must assume that they want to take what you have – any leader knows that. To think otherwise would be stupid.” The words were harsh, dripping with rage, and he shot his sparkling, dark glance toward the arguing mare, wondering if it would take crashing her skull into a rock to get her to see. Already she admitted that she was blinded, but her notions of war and politics were also lacking. What were they teaching her in this cult that was the Hidden Falls? Did they want all their members brainwashed and demur? Unquestioning? Tragedy! Ulrik wanted to save her from her own ignorance and protect her mind from chains and locks that held her so securely loyal. One was only free when they could express openly and explore all avenues apart from family and herd ties – and he had done so once or twice.

“The offer for alliance means trade, protection, assistance and close political relations. It means teaching, sharing and proving for one another – all things we do for the World’s Edge and the Dragon’s Throat. But your Midas refused the Basin’s request for this, and once such offers of friendship are so blatantly and rudely refused, one ask to ask themselves why? Why would he refuse? We have to assume this is because he hates us and wants what we have, and in order to keep him back and prove our strength, we ‘pick’ on them – as you say. We did the same with the Dragon’s Throat until Ophelia and Gaucho met in the north . If a warring pegasus and Ophelia can unify two opposite herds, then why can Midas not see the merit? Why has he not visited the Aurora Basin? Why has he never once set hoof in our lands to see for himself? Why has he not sought truth?”

He posed his questions angrily, the mountains of the north growing larger as they walked. “Those who do not seek truth are afraid of what they will find, and that, Essetia, is stupid. The truth sets you free.”

She seemed tired then, overwhelmed, and he apologized, offering his shoulder for strength. Ulrik felt her warm skin rest against his side, the whiskers of her muzzle grazing his neck, and he curved his own, arching crest, glancing down at her to ensure she was comfortable. The stallion’s gaze, perhaps, lingered to long before moving forward, taking careful, timed steps to ensure she could prop her weight as long as she needed. Ulrik sighed a breath of white, listening to her speak – finally, words of wisdom. She even jested, and Ulrik chuckled, shaking his head and sending tendrils of thick, black mane tumbling haphazardly around her.

“Past actions were made in the past under different leaders. If your Midas had any sense he would have visited to see for himself. Times have changed. Leaders have changed. It’s foolish to think that the herd has not changed too,” he said simply. “Regardless, we were invaded first – if you remember. We had our home ripped away. I do not see you condemning Mirage for this. Prejudice - by the very definition of the word.”

Ulrik smiled and sighed. “Not soft-hearted cowards – just bitter refugees.”

The sentinels rose up, guarding the entrance of the Aurora Basin, and he strode at her side through the snow, the metal behemoths not caring about him in the least. He brought her into their home, looking around at the rather absent land, taking a deep breath. “This is home. I am sure you will meet a few others, but I will stay at your side at all times.”


@[Essetia]