The Epic of Brightblade Warpony

Chapters III

Brightblade Warpony and flame-maned Epona stood atop the hill. As the day wore on, Brightblade continued his narration.


The sun was barely above the horizon when Ramon and I set out into the valley and Ramon re-locked the gate. I carried the sack of provisions by a strap about my neck; Ramon was perched atop my head. Beyond the gate, we found a wide dusty path between walls of thorns. The thorn bushes seemed dead and leafless at first; then I realized that they were in fact covered in small pointed leaves that were almost brown in color and blended in very well with the bark of the plants. In fact, everything in the valley was brown, what little there was: thorn bushes, occasional trees, the dusty path, even the sun seemed brown through the dust kicked up by my hooves.

Neither of us talked much; in the valley there wasn't that much to talk about. It was about mid-morning when Ramon spoke. "At the rate we're moving, we'll be out of familiar terrain by noon. I estimate two days after that we'll reach the far side, if we last that long."

"I don't see why you're so worried," I replied. "This place doesn't seem so bad."

"It will," Ramon said, somberly.

As the day wore on, I began to understand Ramon's apprehensions. The path became more and more rocky. By the time the sun set, the path was bare, red-brown bedrock. I still do not know how those thorns continued to grow so well without soil.

After dark it got worse. Ramon and I gathered some twigs and started a small fire in the middle of the path, so as not to set the whole valley ablaze. Once we got the fire burning I found myself wishing that we had not lit it, though Ramon assured me that it was preferable to darkness. The flickering of the fire, made worse by the cold wind which had picked up, cast shifting shadows amidst the thorns. I could not tell if the motions I saw at the edge of the light were simply the shadows or something else.

By morning the wind had brought cold, dark clouds. Dawn was little better than night, but we had to leave our little fire and move on. As we carried along I heard movement in the thorns, as if something was following us. I hoped that the fear was more imagined than not. I asked my guide, "What do you know of the inhabitants of this valley?"

Ramon replied, "Well, they're smaller than ponies and less civilized than rats."

"They must be total savages," I joked in hopes of lightening the mood.

"I resent that!" Ramon huffed.

"It was supposed to be a joke," I explained. "Sorry, I'm just nervous; those things,"I gestured in the direction of the brambles, "have got me spooked."

"Me too," replied Ramon. "I've never seen one of them but I've heard them chanting beyond the wall at night. Never seen any sign of activity during the day, until now that is."

"At least they don't seem aggressive; not at the moment anyway."

"They don't like the light. With all these clouds it'll get dark early, we won't be able to make a lot of progress today." It was already afternoon.

By mid-afternoon we had reached the center of the valley. We found ourselves standing on the brink of a chasm, the bottom of which was out of sight in the rapidly fading daylight. There was a rope bridge across the gorge but it seemed to be in an ill state of repair.

"We should cross before nightfall," said Ramon. "Hopefully those things won't cross the bridge."

"How do we know there aren't more of them on the other side?" I asked.

"We don't, but we do know they're on this side; we'll have to take a chance."

"I wish there was another way across," I said.

"So do I," replied Ramon.

I approached the bridge and tentatively tested it with my forehoof. The bridge creaked and moaned but held. Another hoof and still the bridge held. I continued to inch forward while Ramon remained behind on solid ground; the bridge continued to creak and sway but held. When I was halfway across, one of the ropes broke; I froze in fear. Ramon called out, "Move, Brightblade! Get off the bridge quick!" With that he rushed across the bridge, right between my legs. Another rope broke. The bridge tipped and swayed; the apples fell from the sack.

"Don't look down!" Ramon called. "Look at me and get off that bridge fast!"

I looked at Ramon and galloped as fast as I could. The bridge collapsed a moment after my hooves hit solid ground. I looked back at the gorge and the ruins of the bridge. "How are we going to get back across now that the bridge is gone?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, so to speak," said Ramon from the thorns beside the path where he had ducked to avoid being trampled by my mad dash.


"It grows late," said Epona. "You can continue your tale tomorrow as we travel."

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