[WitchHazel]

I know the old king's story
Username
WitchHazel
Lambicorn name:
Ædhelweard; the Protector; the Old King
Gender:
Nonbinary, He/They pronouns
Prompt:
The Old King sat atop the mountain, contemplating the very fabric of the multiverse as he had often done many times before. In his indeterminably long life, he had seen nothing more than this mountain and the sky beyond. And the Terrors, of course, or what one could know of such indescribable creatures. Though the King had never met another being considered 'living' by our dimensional standards, he somehow knew his very purpose deep in his bones. He had always known his purpose, though he wasn't sure how. The 'how' was one of the many questions that kept him company in the long hours of the night.
The King stared up into the night sky; an endless void that seemed to stretch on and on with no foreseeable end. Stars sparkled in the far distance, pinpricks of light in the suffocating darkness. He wondered who had made the stars, and in turn, who had made the moon, the sun, the trees, the mountains. He knew some being must have created all of these and more, as well as the one constant in the multiverse as he knew it - the Old King himself. He did not remember being created. He had simply existed throughout all of time, an endless loop with no beginning or end. The King had no concept of time, and yet he knew he had never been a child. He was eternal, old in every time and yet still wise beyond his years. He had always been and always would be.
When the Terrors came, the King stood tall against them. A lone defender in the face of such indescribable darkness. The sight of one alone was enough to drive any mortal lambicorn mad, if they survived the initial viewing in the first place. He did not know how he knew this, but he knew. The King knew many things he did not know he knew until he knew them. One thing he knew he knew for the entirety of his known existence was that he was to fight these Terrors, to protect those he had never met and would never meet. Another thing he knew he knew for the entirety of his existence was that these Terrors must be fought. He knew he did not know why he was the one to fight them. But he knew he knew it was his duty, and he shone his blinding light into the void.
Though alone, the King did not know loneliness. He had never met another being save the Terrors, after all. If he knew not the gentle presence of another, how could he have known the lack of such companionship?
Perhaps one day in the foreseeable future, an intrepid explorer would venture beyond the clouds and join him atop his forlorn peak. Perhaps one day in the foreseeable future, he would meet the entity responsible for the Terrors, if there was such a being. one day in the foreseeable future, other gods of this multiverse would reach out to him, and he would no longer be alone. The Old King did not know how he knew of the other gods, but he knew that he knew of their existence. He knew not how or why he was a King; he only knew that it was and had always been his title. There were many things the Old King knew that he did not know how or why he knew. It was these questions that kept him sane in the face of an endless guard against the Terrors of the Outer Reaches. Or as sane as one could be with no comparison.

[gremlin]

Ends tonight at rollover!

[Griff]

I know the old king's story
Username Griff
Lambicorn name: Maridelle of the Mountains
Gender: Male
Prompt:

As a king, Mari was well known and loved. He watched over his kingdom with care, tried to be fair, and only raised a hoof when he had to. But, in a lot of ways, he always felt something was missing from his rule. Was it... magical? Were all of his subjects happy? Why did he constantly feel like he was missing something?

Not too long ago, he had heard about the old king on the mountain and opted to make the trek himself. He would take no aid, insisting this had to be a trip he made on his own. Using his wit, determination, and his own strength, he struggled until finally making it to the top. He knew exactly what he wanted to ask, exactly what he wanted to say!

Only, as the shadow before him spoke, Mari blinked and then chuckled to himself. "I see... you're me. I already have everything I need, don't I? Cheeky spirits up here aren't there?" There was a warm chuckle, as if affirming just that.

[lilpupin]

I know the old king's story
Username lilpupin
Lambicorn name: Alfiedious (Al-feed-ee-us)
Gender: male
Prompt:
The kingdom of Joldom was an unfriendly wasteland. Very few entered through its gates, the rumours of misfortune and unkind fates loomed too large beyond those stone walls. The king was unknown. He did no trading with other kingdoms and he rarely allowed visitors to his throne. Most theorized that Joldom had in fact wasted away and fallen long ago, that the only thing keeping that knowledge from being known was the fear of the kingdom itself. The kingdom was surrounded by a ring of trees. The trees bore no fruit and their branches were barren. The soil it stood in was without nutrients and birds were never seen in their branches.
But the prince knew of Joldom’s fate.
The prince knew all too well.
It was one hundred years plus ten days that the prince had been born. He was named Alfiedious and was the only heir to a dying kingdom. Alfiedious grew and with it so did his wisdom. He watched his father day in and day out as he carried out his studies. The king was a wicked man and was unfair to his people. No one was allowed to leave and within Alfiedious’ time never was a visitor allowed sanction within its walls. Alfiedious knew better than to believe that it was good. The Prince spent his early youth learning of what a true king should look like and his later youth freeing his people. He had learnt of the windings of underground tunnels beneath the kingdom’s grounds. He would sneak out to the village in the dark of the night once a month, to the broken kingdom within the walls of that prison. The stone buildings were deformed and crumbling, the well was dirt and unsafe. The prince knew his people deserved better. He would take a small band of soon to be refugees with him under the tunnels. There he would guide them through the deep hours of midnight in the tunnels to disappear into the forest.
He tried to save them all.
He couldn’t.
The Prince faced two problems in his attempts to free his people. The first was the stubborn. There were always some that would cry out, “I was born here and so I shall die here the same.” And so he let them be. The second came but four months before Alfiedious’ first breakout. The second problem ended his career. His father found out. A guard had seen the prince leave the castle and followed him. As careful as Alfiedious was, the guard was a better tracker than Alfiedious was a hider. The prince soon found his room guarded every night. The years passed by much the same. A quiet breakfast by himself in the dead garden, a silent lunch by himself in his room after studies, and a deathly deafening silence at dinner as the king sat before the prince, all too aware of his misdeeds. The prince grew to a stronger and wiser age and the King grew older and weaker, but held tight his seat on the throne. Alfiedious married his wonderfully kind wife and the two had a child. They named her Ophelia after her mother’s mother. But sickness overcame the kingdom.
And just as the prince could not save his people,
he could not save his wife.
The King had long ago turned his back to his son. Alfiedious could get no help from his father and so he could get no help for his wife. He and his daughter watched her fall away. The sickness left in time and the prince was left with his pride and joy, princess Ophelia. He taught her himself, afraid of the king’s influence over tutors. And so their bond grew stronger and so did the prince’s determination for her release to a better life. He found his opportunity soon. The King was on his deathbed. The prince formed a plan not just for Ophelia’s escape, but his whole kingdom. The land was no longer able to support a kingdom, they all had to leave. But the King placed a curse on his death, a horrible truth which had not been known. The King knew the prince would leave, so on his final breath Ophelia disappeared. Alfiedious sent every last guard to look for her until finally one came forth with a scroll. On it was a simple message.
Return to the tunnels deep below,
And there your daughter’s prison will show.
Alfiedious set off right away. Down to the tunnels which he hadn’t set foot in in so many years, he found himself in search of the princess. Outside news spread quickly of the king’s death and those that wished to leave ran for the gates. But the curse reached there as well. A boundary was made; a great dome of the kingdom. They were all trapped. Alfiedious had to find his daughter, for the sake of the kingdom whole. He followed down those winding paths, deeper and deeper. Eventually he came upon a small room with large chunks carved out of the wall, there were bars. He had reached an old prison. He peered into each cell until he found the sleeping form of his daughter, his only purpose in life. He called out her name and she did not stir, but something behind him did. A swishing of cloth on stone sounded behind him and a voice pierced the silence, “Son of Reyock, turn to me.” Alfiedious did as he was told and a robed figure stood before him. A name escaped his tongue, one which he had long forgotten. The priest who had crowned his father, Diminiof, long ago sentenced to death for betraying the king in favor of the people. The kind old priest smiled, his eyes warm. “Alfiedious, I’ve come to collect your daughter,” his words were kind and well meaning but the words felt sharp as a stone. Words tumbled from the prince’s mouth, a quiet and choked plead of no, no, no. The priest wept, “I am sorry young prince, it must be this way. For all of your people. The king was wicked and his curse is as black as his heart. He wished to take your daughter from you in slumber, that she may never speak with you again, to be just out of reach but still here. For your people he planned for the curse to slowly make the same affliction plague them as well. He wanted your heart to be as broken and black as his was.” There was silence for a time as realization set in, reflected in the hot tears sliding down the prince’s face. The priest started again, “Alfiedious, the most I can do is to take her with me. At least then she will not suffer, at least then she can have peace. I have power enough to change that.” The prince nodded and whispered, “please, show her a better world.” Diminiof nodded and stepped through the bars to the sleeping princess and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “my dear, get up. I’ve been watching you and your father for a while now and I would like to give you a gift.” Ophelia’s spirit rose from her body and she looked up to the priest, “a gift? What gift?” He smiled and replied gently, “a new land to govern. Your father will come later, but his time is not now.” He added quickly, “you are to join your mother at the throne.” Ophelia’s face fell, “oh, I see.” She rose and came to Diminiof’s side, “I’m ready.” The prince wept silently and watched her go, she disappeared ahead of the priest. The priest paused at a sound and turned to a second sound behind Alfiedious. Alfiedious turned and saw the old war general who said in his husky voice, “no, there is a way. A way to save his people from the same fate as his daughter.” Alfiedious cried in his choked voice, “oh please, I’ll do anything.” The general nodded, “you need to be crowned a king, every king is given one wish. Young prince, would you be willing to use this wish for your kingdom?” Alfiedious barely had to respond, both the priest and the general already knew the answer. “You will give your life if you make such a wish,” the priest said softly. Alfiedious was set in his decision, the deal would be made. The priest crowned him and the new king made his wish.
It is said that the wish was the strongest wish,
most pure wish ever made.
The dome was lifted and all of the great King’s needs were fulfilled. The people fled and when the last left the gate, guards, peasants, farmers, merchants, the kingdom was changed. Never would another suffer on this barren land. A great earthquake sounded and from the ground mountains erupted, the most beautiful and forbidding mountains anyone had seen. Their message was clear, “don’t tread on this land, it is not meant for you.” Rivers run down its side, the purest of waters, fabled to be the product of the king’s tears. His heart forever bound to the mountain by a bright silver chain. And so rarely do people scale those cliffs and when they do they may meet the king. From the king they so often hear, “do you know my story?” And when they answer no the king turns away with such a sad smile of understanding that you feel your heart cry for him. And the soft chiming of a thin chain can be heard in his wake, forever binding his soul to the mountain until his release.

[EchoIre]

I know the old king's story
Username: EchoIre
Lambicorn name: Kushim
Gender: Male
Prompt:

Nai'a narrowed her eyes against the freezing wind, twisting and ducking under the worst of the gales to push herself forward with her mighty wings.

"Are you kidding me, old man?" The Elder grumbled under her breath, voice lost in the shrieking maelstrom. Jagged peaks of stone and ice below served as a grim reminder of what may happen should she falter. She gritted her teeth and pushed onwards, doing her best to dip and duck her impressive stature around the mountain peaks.

Why was she risking her life again?

A flash of vibrant indigo against the mountains caught Nai'a's eye. She threw her wings out against the wind, balancing herself with a swish of her tail to hover as best she could. A familiar face stared up at her from the icy palm of frozen pillars, smiling the same sad smile as always.

She wished he wouldn’t smile. Or at the very least, that he wouldn’t look at her like he’d been expecting her to come. Rolling her eyes, Nai’a began to dive closer, only to be blown aside by a sudden gust of wind. She struggled to right herself, but thumped against a peak of ice before she could. In an instant Nai’a dug her claws into it, creating a terrible screeching sound as they scraped against the ice before finding purchase.

“Is that-” She heaved, pulling herself against the wind and closer to the strange lambicorn. “-really necessary?” Nai’a managed to pull the front half of her body into the circle created by the jagged claws of ice, staring down at the King at the center. “Old man.” She added with a huff.

The King chuckled. “You’re calling me old?”

Nai’a rolled her eyes, but smiled all the same. With a final effort, she managed to pull herself entirely into the circle of ice, coiling her long body awkwardly to fit inside. The winds were silent and still here, as if they hadn’t existed at all. Nai’a craned her neck to grin down at the King.

“Rude.”

There was a beat of silence; Nai'a waiting for the same question he always asked, and Kushim wondering if he should ask something different, a thousand other questions in mind.

Finally, "Do you know my story?"

Nai'a's smile faded. "I do." She straightened her back, lifting her head so that it was level with the tips of the frozen claws of ice. The ice reflected the light circled around her head, making her appear as ethereal as the King at her paws.

"You were King Kushim of Materra, son of Ka, the former Elder of Nobility and king of Materra. You were his heir in every right - to take his throne and his title upon his passing. You were beloved by your nation, and the celebration for your coronation lasted nearly a month. And for the first four months of your rule, you were regarded as a wise and just king, endlessly loved by his people." Nai'a paused, watching Kushim carefully.

The King sat unblinking. Nai'a continued.

"Then your advisors began to claim you were going mad. They claimed you had become prone to furious outbursts, that you spent days on end training or pouring yourself over your father's journals. That you forbade any from handling your affairs in your place, and quite nearly beheaded the advisor who dared to do so. They were regarded as mad for, in the eyes of the people, trying to spread such slanderous lies about their king. When you replaced them all, nobody batted an eye. Until you declared war on Phulyra, your closest neighbor and ally, for a discrepancy in traded goods - one your former advisors later confirmed was a mistake in numbers. Nothing malicious."

"Still, you would have your war, regardless of the fact Phulyra was a larger and older kingdom by many years. When the King of Phulyra dismissed your declaration, you sent a battle party to the border and laid siege, leading the charge yourself. Overnight, you went from loved to feared. In minutes you became a warmonger, not a peacekeeper. With simple steel you cut apart a centuries-long treaty."

"You were destined to lose, and most of your subjects knew it well. Your former advisors led a coup against you, and with your military split between them and the battlefront, the guards left at your castle were not enough. Your death was not enough, either; Materra could not recover after the destruction you wrought. Your reign was over, by the kingdom still fell through your actions."

"You are The Mad King Kushim of Materra, son of Ka, the former Elder of Nobility, who destroyed his kingdom within a decade of his rule."

Kushim smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, that is n-"

"Not your story." Nai'a interjected, catching Kushim off guard. "Not all of it, anyways."

Kushim gave Nai'a a curious look. "It's not?" There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. A certain uneasiness in his smile that Nai'a recognized all to well. She pushed on still.

"It's not."

"You were Ka's heir, but you were never what you were thought to be. You, King Kushim, were never an Elder."

The King's smile faltered, ever so slightly.

"Despite having two Elder parents, you, their only son, fell short of the mark; a Demi-Elder. Excuses were made - surely you would grow, your magic would come in full when you were older. They were all so certain you would be ready when your father passed, but you never would be. Not in the way they thought."

"And you knew this. You knew since before you could remember that you were not all they thought you were. That you could never fit the crown your father left behind. But did you tell them?"

"No." Replied Kushim, his voice even despite his secrets being laid bare before him.

"You didn't." Nai'a confimed. "You lied, feeling as insidious as a serpent as you pretended to fit the role you were born for. And you began to believe it yourself; maybe you would grow. Maybe your magic would bloom. But when the day came that your father's crown finally rested atop your head, that fantasy came crashing down. You could never be your father. Even if you studied all his notes and followed them to the syllable, even if you trained your body and magic ceaselessly, you could never be him."

"What you never saw was that your people did not want you to be. They wanted a just and fair ruler. They wanted what you had always been. Their King. You lashed out against any who trued to show you, any who tried to stop you. Any who dared get close. For fear they would find out what you truly were."

"When the opportunity came to siege war, you took it. If you could not match your father as a king, perhaps you could best him as a warlord. You didn't see the contempt your people held for you until far too late, and were forced to watch their ruin. You were cursed to never be at peace until someone recited to you the story you spent your entire life trying to hide."

A pause. The two ancient Lambicorns sizing each other up, hearing the story and seeing its truth.

"Am I correct, King Kushim? Is that your story?"

The King uttered a small, disbelieving laugh. "It is." He dipped his maned head to Nai'a, Queen of Dreams. "Thank you."

In the next moment, Nai'a was alone in the circle of ice, listening as the wind began to howl once more.

[gremlin]

Closed for judging!

[gremlin]

I loved reading all your stories, each was so creative and well written. I struggled so much to choose but in the end I just loved Echoire's story, the madness of self induced delusion and blindness by insecurity were beautifully managed! Congratulations!
However, there were three other stories that I loved as well, therefore RUs will be going out to: Rem Sleep, Lilpupin and Witchhazel. Each of you have wonderful stories full of sorrow and joy, lonliness and companionship and ups and downs!

[KestrelTheFirecat]

Congratulations guys