This is a prologue to a longer story involving the battle-bred, my warrior unicorns, but it can also serve as a stand alone short story. Battle-bred are my creation, and all things related to them are copyright me. I catch you using the concepts I've come up with for them without permission, and we'll have words, so please don't.
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Partnership
Gather round, you foals. You are of age, and should know the story of the beginnings. Today you take up the mantle of your dams and sires, and join the ranks of pledges, first step in becoming the warriors you are born to be. Still your hooves, and listen. This is the way of our world, and you need to know it well.
When Gaia first woke, it was to nothingness, and this did not suit Her. With passing strokes of Her hands, with grooming brushes of tongue, each in their turn, She made of Herself the world. It was taxing work, and the sweat She shook from Her coat flew out, sparkling bright, into the void, to shine and wheel, never stopping in the motion, becoming the stars. When the world was to Her liking, She took a warming spark from Her inner fire, and so made the sun, along with the moon, putting each in their places. And when everything was made just so, and the sky and sea and forest had all been filled with animals of variety, beauty, and danger, then did Gaia look to creating people.
She made the unicorns first. The whitelings, with their grace and beauty, firstborn and beloved of Gaia, powerful in magic and knowledge, to them was given the joy of the forest, the keeping of peace and a benison of splendor. Then the others, unicorn-kin, were shaped and formed, given dominion and place. The kirin, eastern cousin, and wise beyond knowing. Mystery and the far places, a proud heart and able strength was bequeathed them. The karkadann, fierce and brightly burning in lands of hot sun and sands, whose flame hearts are strictly aligned in their code. The others you will learn of another time, for there are many, and they are whiteling kin. They are to be honored as whitelings are, should you ever have the privilege of seeing or serving one the rare times envoys come.
Gaia made the others as well, the dragons, the gryphons, the elves, the animal-folk, and the humans. She made the goblins, and the orcs, the drow and the dwarves. All races, all kinds, whether light or dark, for as there is creation, there is destruction. As there is birth, there is death. Whatever the path they chose, they began, one and all, as Gaia�s children.
As with any birth, the making of the world and those in it greatly tired Gaia, and She felt the need for rest. Creation is a wearying, if gratifying, task, and as the world began to turn, the peoples in it living and shaping themselves, She settled down, slumber pulling Her into its restorative hold. In Her sleep, She dreams, and sees much of what happens. The whitelings, oldest of Her children, will at times be blessed with a peek into such Dreams, and so learn Gaia�s will. I am just an old battle-bred, and know nothing of Gaia Dreams, so more about such things I cannot tell you.
Time passed, and as peoples became what their natures dictated, or chose their paths, the whitelings noticed a terrible thing. Many of them were dying, being hunted by this race or that, for the power in their horn, for the blessings in their blood, for even the flesh on their body. The path of the whiteling then was mainly solitary, families grouping here and there, but scattered over the land, for was there not ample forest to ward? It being so, by the time the knowledge of their plight became clear to all, word spreading, their numbers were tragically low. To help preserve themselves, one mare who had a particularly large brood, which had kept close to her territory when they claimed their own, sent out her foals, young and adult alike, to gather all the others they could find. Kano was her name, and a bolder mare could not be found. Gathering the remnants of her people, she came here, to the birthplace of whiteling kind. Home has always been holy, that old forest where whitelings walk, so near to our plain, but it became Home the day Kano decreed that for safety�s sake, whitelings were to stay there and no other place. What of our forests, cried some, what of our place in the world? Kano fixed them with a hard eye, and spoke hard truth, as whitelings sometimes must. The forests must keep themselves a while, the world must do without for a time, else the world finds itself bereft more permanently. When we have found a way to live with the world again, we will venture forth.
Kano called to her all those who were eldest, and those who were wise, and set down the problem of how to keep their kind alive at their hooves. Out of the chaos of that time, formed the ways that whitelings keep even today, and that even we mark ourselves by. It was the first herd formed, and so given that name. The oldest Lines were established, and though later, other Lines were founded, these original ones are given the most deference, and often remain in Home, in First Herd. Kano, by no art of her own, but that virtue of greatness which earned her place as founder of her Line, became the first whiteling Lady, as one of her sons later became the first Lord. So many of Kano Line showed that original streak of brilliance, that finally, Kano Line became acknowledged as the leaders among whitelings, and a descendent of Kano still holds that position, and will into eternity.
Those elders and talented whom Kano had called on to deliver a solution thought long and hard, ideas flying thick as a winter coat. The whiteling gift of shapeshifting, which lent them a human seeming, had availed them not at all, for those who hunted had learned what to look for which denoted a shifted unicorn. Whitelings are not like kirin, they said, not like karkadann, or like a handful of others. They were first made, and they were made for beauty, for magic. Not for battle, though as any creature would, when pressed, they could fight for their lives. Theirs was a gentle nature, not a warrior one. Therefore, they needed warriors, who could defend them.
As one, the whitelings in this group lifted their voices, sent their prayers, cried out to Gaia in Her sleep for aid. A Dream descended on them all. What was said, or how, I could not say, and it is not for such as us to know. Gaia did not wake, but their appeal was answered, their answer given.
Thus, became the battle-bred. We were made with Gaia�s permission, the granting of a boon to Her favored children, so that they might live on. Whitelings planned us, shaped our forms, our strength, our nature. They guided us into being, and when the first of us opened their eyes, they knew our duty rested with our creators. A partnership began, that continues to this day, encompassing all of us in our turn. We are the warriors. They are our purpose. We fight, that they may live. We live, that they may continue. Whitelings are a treasure the world can ill afford to lose, and we are the shield between them, and those who would do them harm.
The days when whitelings were endangered are long past � new Lines have come, and gone out into the world again. Some wander solitary, some keep to the herds. Those herds in dangerous places or who request it have battle-bred posted to them for protection. We have seen wars come and go, fought invaders who seek the whiteling Home, and built our own Lines and ranks to fullness. There are always threats to be fought, always hunters to guard against. Complacency has no place here. We are to be ever vigilant. It is our duty.
Stand tall, you pledges. Soon enough, when your training is done, you will join the ranks of the warriors, and take your place in the world as you are meant. We are battle-bred. We are Thunder Herd. Sharpen your horns, hone your hooves, and bare your fangs to the sun. We begin!