the conflict - site plot

"Ah, let me guess. You want a story? About our history? Oh, child, that is a long tale indeed. But, if you insist, I suppose. Settle down, young one, and turn well your ears to me.

No one remembers how the Wasteland came to be. The most ancient of elders will whisper that it grew into being some centuries ere but no living soul alive knows now. A pity, indeed, as our histories would indeed be far richer if we knew the truth of it. Rumors abound, of course, my child, but nothing we can put any stock in.

What we can recall with clarity began some hundred and fifty years ago. In that long ago time, we did not have the Wasteland Monarchs. For as long as anyone can recall, by that point, we were one and whole; a unified family stretching across the generations. Indeed, we did not even have a true king and queen; there were councils, aye, who ruled the great swathe of us, but no monarchs.

I know, of course, child, that is not what you are interested in. So I will skip the droll tale of ruling councils and fretful leads and move into the meat of the matter.

What is known is that there were four young horses; two colts, two fillies. They were beautiful and lovely and everyone adored them. The fillies were kind and generous, the colts were strong and firm. And everyone knew that at some point, they would fall in love.

The eldest of the group was named Xerxes. He loved the youngest, Tiara, with a fierce passion but she had eyes only for the middle, Alastor. The other filly, Bathsheba, had a personality of a fierce and cold hellfire of a mare, a promised demoness, everyone thought. She coveted after the eldest but though he looked upon her now and again with interest, it was the youngest who held his heart.

It is not entirely known what  happened. In fact, my child, we do not even know when it happened. What we only know is that, when the foals became of age, Xerxes fought with the head of the council and won. His first action was to disband the councils and to establish a monarchy henceforth known to this day as the King and the Queen of the Dawn, for the dawning of the new age that began then.

His second action, my dear little one, was to banish Tiara and Alastor.

Where else could they go but to the Wastelands? That treacherous great swath of land to the north. Predators and horrible things sleep there undisturbed but to come down here. You shiver, child, I see it; good. You need to fear the Wasteland.

By this point, of course, the four had all grown into handsome and beautiful young horses and it was a hard and cruel thing to do, banishing them so young. We need the safety of the herd, child; we are not meant to be loners. But to the Wasteland they went . It took some time but others, friends and family members, who believed one side over the other, began to follow them as well.

Not all of them left willingly, of course. Many voiced their opinions of the banishment and were banished away for their boldness. But we lost many, child, many young horses who turned from us and moved to Tiara and Alastor.

Who can say what the cause of the outcasting was? Many of us believe that Bathsheba orchestrated it; she was always a troublemaker, our histories tell us. There is no way of knowing anymore.

The Wasteland Monarchy did not rise overnight. It took some decades, more than one generation, before the descendants of Tiara and Alastor to step up and take control of the rag-tag band of horses who had been cast out of the main herd. We do not know now whether it was the simple appearance of another kingdom or if the Wastelanders were becoming hostile is what began the Conflict. We know only that it started those centuries past and has not stopped yet.

Our Conflict rises and falls like the tide, my child. You and your friends were lucky to be born in the quiet peace time of it but I fear, child, I fear. Time alone now will tell us whether the new Wasteland Monarchs will strike out as they have for decades now."