To the Wind: The Shattering (Book 1)


                                            Note: Kinda went a little crazy after seeing an anon suggest Anonfilly could be anything other than human, kinda drove me into a "what if there was a bunch of Anonfillies but it's all just one anon who they originate from?" And then this kinda half assed vomit soup came to be. Update whenever I feel like it. Not a lot of deep thought into it, I'll build a general throughline and just make it up as I go.


                                            >"Are you ready to cross?"

                                            >I stood upon my end. The ferryman only offering these words and nothing more.

                                            >I felt I could have stared eternally, watching the Styx flow.

                                            >But such a fate should not be mine.

                                            "I...suppose I must be," I discovered quickly I walked like a man half my age, as if my bad leg were from before the siege of Carthage.

                                            >Stepping into the boat, I could not help but attempt to divine the face of Charon.

                                            >It was not for me to know though, as he had turned away, as if sensing my prying eyes.

                                            "Where will I be sentenced?" I asked as the boat began to move, "Will my punishment be long?"

                                            >The silence that reigned was deafening, the only noise was the cursed murky depths and the boat that cut through it.

                                            >Cut through towards an endless darkness.

                                            >A terror built within me, filling the hopeless void within.

                                            >Sins weighed heavily on my heart.

                                            >Excessive Drinking

                                            >Bringing death upon my love

                                            >Seeking wealth through theft of my fellows after the sacking

                                            >Much more swirled as I considered where I would go

                                            >Finally, Charon spoke, "Limbo."

                                            >My body shook at the word. It was enough to know what would be next.

                                            >I grit my teeth and swore upon the gods leaving me with this punishment.

                                            >Damn Neptune for his curse upon the voyages I journeyed.

                                            >Damn Mars for leaving me scarred and weak while my wife betrayed me

                                            >Damn Venus, the temptress she is.

                                            >The river seemed to call to me, vague warnings of my father came to mind.

                                            >"I once knew a fool who swore an oath upon the Styx." He'd tell upon one hunt or another.

                                            >"He swore to the Styx an oath of loyalty to his wife." My father Aurelius would laugh before continuing, "he was found dead a week after making the oath atop a whore."

                                            >"Oaths sworn to the Styx are powerful, but they are only as powerful as your dedication to them."

                                            >The words faded from my mind, Charon continued his lazy ferrying, slow and methodical. Perhaps unaware of my thoughts.

                                            >Anger replaced the despair, the nervous tension within me.

                                            >If I am to be damned anyways, what's one more punishment?

                                            My throat felt dry as the Egyptian desert, the shaking of my body continuing, "I swear," I hesitated.

                                            >My words actually made my ferryman stop his travel.

                                            >He did not turn around, but it felt as if he payed special attention to these words.

                                            "I swear upon the Styx," my head pounded, it felt like I yelled this out with the silence despite the whispers I actually spoke. "I swear I shall never enter limbo." I lurched myself forward, grasping onto Charon and forcing the boat the rock violently.

                                            >Whether blind luck or the power of my words, Charon was off balance, "I swear to the Styx I shall live again!"

                                            >It was absurd, I had nothing but the prayers to whatever would actually help me.

                                            >I'd pay any price.


                                            >"Be mindful of what this entails," the ferryman of Hades grasped my neck, it felt bony and the cold bit worse than when I traveled wet in the harsh winter mountains.

                                            >It spread a numbness out like a spiders web as Charon attempted to place me back in my seat.

                                            >He did not think I would flail so violently I would flip the legendary boat.

                                            >The waters of damned souls rushed me, grasping and dragging my numb body with a speed to surpass any ship.

                                            >And then, violent pain, ripping, shredding, I felt everything tearing.

                                            >Nothingness replaced the pain.

                                            -----------------------------------------------------


                                            >I am nothing, but, also something.

                                            >Vague chaotic thoughts of being one pass through my selves.

                                            >Or was I many yet becoming one?

                                            >Who was I?

                                            >What was I?

                                            >Altogether the many feel like they're ripped apart, moving like Mercury bringing messages of bad tidings to all.

                                            >Once again, nothing.

                                            -----------------------------------------------------


                                            >One shattered to seven, seven came to a distant world, seven scattered to the winds.

                                            >Seven became more.

                                            >Two shattered pieces twisted and slammed into each other as they raced across an ocean.

                                            >Two violently clashed, chasing one another through to land, deep into jungle.

                                            >Two broke through the late night of a temple within this jungle, towards a sleeping mare.

                                            >They chased each other toward the mare, vanishing within this zebra.

                                            >This pregnant zebra.

                                            >What horror


                                            5 months later

                                            >It was a regular day of court.

                                            >Petitions from elders were endless.

                                            >"My people require a witch doctor to purify the waters." One asks.

                                            >"The tribes to the west have raided us again, we require warriors to aid us in striking back." Another pleads.

                                            >The standard fare for this temple of unity.

                                            >you stood as the first monarch to Southern Zebrica, a stallion who receives replies when seeking answers from the spirits.

                                            >They foretold much and were critical in your rise to unify the tribes.

                                            >Much of your government mimicked the countries outside your lands.

                                            >But it feels as though the spirits have been unnaturally silent since shortly after your wife's pregnancy.

                                            >They blessed you with news of twins, and it was your happiest moment.

                                            >You announced a day of celebration to all the tribes, it was a time of joy.

                                            >Now you wonder if the children will be stillborn.

                                            >It is not your first time thinking it possible, whatever is wrong you hope the spirits will speak with you again.

                                            "My elite trained by The Great Spirit Daosam shall aid you with vengeance." You felt tired, your bangles of gold hung heavily, clinking noisily as they hung from your ears and nose.

                                            >You were prepared for the standard affairs when your court was interrupted by a messenger.

                                            >"Great Speaker!" Cried the voice of your closest aid, a hiveless changeling you healed at the behest of the spirits. His broken horn, his one eye always staring in adoration of you. His red tones stood as a reminder of a hive erased by misfortune. "your wife!" He says between breaths.

                                            "What about my wife?" You stood from your seat of ivory and fine silk, "is she well? Is the news good?"

                                            >"She has gone into labours, Great Armandi, come quick!"

                                            >You got up and followed after Palp, cutting your court session short with a simple order.

                                            >Down the halls you could just faintly hear your wife’s moans of pain, it filled you with just as much trepidation as excitement.

                                            >Everything seemed normal but with the spirits still silent, you just couldn’t be sure.

                                            >It felt as though something big would happen, if the spirits ever speak again you will be sure to have your answers.

                                            >For now, you try to distract yourself, everything seems to wear against your fragile kingdom.

                                            >Raids from opportunist tribes, early signs of famine, deep dependency on the goodwill of other nations.

                                            >You’ve got to find a solution to much of it, stable exports, security.

                                            >You sigh, this isn’t where you wanted your thoughts to wander to, you have to put trust in the spirits to return when you need them.

                                            >For now, you find yourself at the top of your six story castle, your most elite warriors guarding the door to your chambers.

                                            >They stepped aside while Palp opened the doors, from within you heard a sound that filled you with great joy!

                                            >The sounds of a foal crying.

                                            >You couldn’t help but rush in as the maids passed the child off to wash, the Witch Doctor was once again telling her to push.

                                            >Not one but two heirs?

                                            >”Zanala!” You yelled out breathlessly, rushing to her side.

                                            >She grasped your hoof like her life depended on it, giving you the briefest of glances before returning her focus to breathing and pushing.

                                            >Your focus melted the world away while your second foal came into it.

                                            >Your focus didn’t stay long before some of the maids gasped in surprise.

                                            >”Great Speaker, Come quick!”

                                            >You couldn’t help but rush over, fearing the worst.

                                            >But

                                            >...

                                            >Not this, what is this?

                                            >Held within the hooves of your wife’s attending maid, your foal was...

                                            “Green.” You muttered.

                                            >It seemed the maids all looked on at you, wondering what you had to say about this oddity.

                                            >Never before had a zebra been born with green instead of white, but here she was.

                                            >You stepped closer, tentatively taking her in your hooves.

                                            >She cried as you rocked her, looking at the maids you did what you do best.

                                            >Made shit up.

                                            “The spirits have blessed us, get back to work.”

                                            >Good enough for now, this is an omen of good fortune.

                                            >You just had to repeat that enough and it shall be true.

                                            >not long after your second foal was also here and healthy as can be, both daughters.

                                            >This filly was just as different, her green was darker, richer, akin to jade so brilliant it was as if she were to bring wealth to your country all by her existence alone.

                                            >Her stripes were the most surprising, not black but a darker green, like the deeper parts of the jungle that constantly threatens your tribes.

                                            >your wife held them both in her hooves, smiling and crying as you stood next to her.

                                            >”I think I know what to name them,” she sniffled, “oh my beautiful fillies.”

                                            >You couldn’t help but kiss your wife, smiling and practically ready to celebrate.

                                            “What names shall these two princesses have?” you couldn’t help but press a bit.

                                            >”Zala,” she held up her firstborn child, the lighter green with black striped filly whom you claimed was blessed by the spirits.

                                            >”and the other filly, my Queen?” Palp spoke just above the whispers the maids made between each other.

                                            >”Abdalla,” she said, “I feel something pulling me towards that name, yes.”

                                            >Tonight your wife rests, tomorrow, your kingdom shall celebrate the birth of Zala and Abdalla, the future of your people.

                                            >What a time to be alive.


                                            6 years time skip


                                            >Be the mean green striped machine.

                                            >Also be slightly shorter than the average Zebra.

                                            >You must be Abdalla.

                                            >And you followed your sister Zala into the library some time ago.

                                            >You had only started learning to read for a few months, but Zala seemed to pick it up faster than you.

                                            >She was scouring through the meager selection of scrolls and books to find something to read.

                                            ”Sis, I wanna play,” You huff and pout, you’ve been here for too long and your little filly brain needs something to keep it occupied, “Let’s go out and play with the dollies.”

                                            >Zala just grabs a scroll before turning back to you, “but we did what you wanted to do last time,” she was pouting too, “I wanna practice reading for Daddy.”

                                            You huffed and turned away, “fiine,” you were silent as Zala opened up the scroll to begin practicing her reading.

                                            >As she read it, your eyes wandered from boredom.

                                            >Quickly realizing once again there’s a whole lot of nothing and no one around, you turn your attention back to your sister.

                                            >You decided to crouch low and begin half crawling towards her to get a better look at the thing.

                                            >With the deftness of a worm, you crawled onto your sister and rested your head just over her hairline, looking at the parchment past her snootle boop.

                                            “What’s that mean?” You asked, you could spot a few words but most of it was just gibberish.

                                            >Your sister looked at where your hoof was pointing and said, “I think that is...“ she begins to sound it out, “fah-bur-gee” She then says it again, “Fabrigay, that’s it!”

                                            “Why’s it so long?”

                                            >”Dunno,” she shrugs, causing you to wiggle a little for balance.

                                            “What’s it mean?”

                                            >”It means let’s ask Mrs. Writing.” She nods and your delicate balance upon your sister crumbles.

                                            >One flop to the side and your sister has rolled up the parchment.

                                            >With how small this place is it didn’t take long to hear her quiet mutterings.

                                            >Your sister got curious and went to the aisle next to her, sneaking a listen next to the shelf.

                                            >”Well, Mr warrior, I think your help with the books should be rewarded, don’t you?”

                                            >You and your sister decided you needed a better look, but how?

                                            >”I’m gonna climb up,” Zala suggested.

                                            >Before you could respond she had already begun to hop up the shelf, nudging books quietly while the librarian and warrior spoke to each other

                                            >”It is my job, you don’t have to worry about a reward,” he responded back, “It’s hard work for a pony like yourself,” he seemed like a douche.

                                            >You couldn’t see their faces, so using your short stature you nudged the books of the first shelf aside to peer through it

                                            >The pony librarian looked annoyed, but that melted away quickly as she began to look at him like a piece of hay, “so,” she began.

                                            >At the same time, you think you hear your sister mutter “oops” and the whole shelf began to rock slowly.


                                            ______________________________________________________________________________


                                            >Today was another day of silence.

                                            >Few seem to care to enter the royal library, so your job is pretty easy.

                                            >There’s also little literature to reorganize, dust, and account for compared to a royal archive.

                                            >Much less a normal library.

                                            >So you are the fuchsia mare, master of boredom, Fine Writing.

                                            >It was a day like any other, the royal foals had come in some time ago to look through the books for whatever.

                                            >You didn’t really care.

                                            >they were the only ones besides yourself and the hunk of a savage who was on duty in the library again.

                                            >You were schmoozing up to him like most other days, it seemed he was more and more willing to have some fun the more you dropped hints.

                                            >By Celestia he was innocent, it was almost cute if not for how frustratingly long it was taking to seduce him.

                                            >”So,” you huskily spoke as you moved closer to him, blinking in what you know was a seductive manner, “how’s about after your shift is over you and me have some...private time?” Please take the hint, please take th-

                                            >The sound of the creaking shelf behind you shocked you both into looking.

                                            >It rocked back and forth, threatening to fall upon the both of you.

                                            >The “stallion” let out a cry so high you’d thought he’d become a mare.

                                            >The bookcase finally gave, falling away from the two of you and having a domino effect on a number of shelves behind it.

                                            >Each shelf left you wincing more and more.

                                            >Thank all that is good in this world most of the shelves were empty, but the books all fell from the first three shelves still leaves you with quite the work ahead of you.

                                            >Whatever decided you should be delayed sex for who knows how much longer will pay.

                                            >That’s when you and the guard picked up the sight of a pile of books shifting.

                                            >Out popped little nightmare number one, you think her name is Zola or something.

                                            >Weird Zebrican names aside, she stared at you like a deer in the headlights, to your right at the edge of the shelf you turned and spotted number two looking from between the two shelves much the same.

                                            >The moment of silence broke when they both screeched like wailing banshees.

                                            >They immediately began booking it like their tails were on fire towards the door.

                                            >You’d think they wouldn’t get far with a closed door but the combination crash and war cries alerted their guards outside the library.

                                            >Two guards storm in, “What’s going on?” The one on the left all but commands.

                                            >The both of them stopped in surprise, blocking the door for most.

                                            >Too bad the two fillies weren’t like most.

                                            >The two screechers went storming under the guard on the right, knocking his hooves out from under him.

                                            >He was felled as quickly as a tree that’d been infested by termites for years.

                                            >Down the hall they went.

                                            >The fillies are long gone now, you’ll be reporting this to the head maid, but first...

                                            >”I suppose you three wouldn’t mind helping with the cleanup?”