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Description

The Mortal Paper Fist said:
A very hearthwarming tale. Maybe we have time to listen to another story?
The storytelling comes to a short pause as ponies shuffle to and from the campfires, or refill their snack trays. During this time, some chat about the latest story, while others ask the librarian a few questions about it.
Inquisitive filly: “That was a nice story, but I don’t think I understand the ending. What’s so magical about a potluck?”
Plume: “I suppose the message of the story lies within the context in which it was written: The Gemstone Soup is an old earth pony folk tale from the Pre-Equestria Era, characterized by the unicorn traveller’s race being the only one mentioned.
During a time when the pony tribes struggled to get along, the earth ponies yet prided themselves in their hospitality. This tale is one of many examples in that regard, and while it was adapted to our current geography, its lesson still rings true today.”
Inquisitive filly: “Ohh, I think I get it now…”
A few minutes pass until everypony is settled around the fires again, sheltered from the cool breeze swirling around the edges of the forest. You watch sprinkles of fireflies dance above the swaying grass until Plume’s voice transports you to a distant land once more.
Plume: “This is the story of Canterbolg, the legendary sword of Light forged in dragonfire. Whence the blade was born is a mystery to all, but once upon a time, it found itself in the claws of one Dragon Lord Fulgur.
It was a time of great conflict between the Dragon Lands of the south and the Griffon Kingdom of the north, as between them stood Mount Aurealis, a coveted mountain of pure gold.
One fateful day under his rule, Fulgur came to desire a wise dragoness by the name of Fossa. Fossa, however, proclaimed that she would only become his lover under one condition: that her son, Crater, be given the Bloodstone Scepter for one moon.
Fulgur agreed to these terms, and passed the scepter on to her son. Yet, under the council of his mother, Crater became such a revered leader that after one moon, all dragons recognized him as the true Dragon Lord.
This did not bother Fulgur. ‘By day and by night, the warmth of the Dragon Lord’s mother truly is a greater prize than the cold stones of the throne’, he decreed. Crater was greatly displeased by this, and banished Fulgur from the Dragon Lands.
And so, Fulgur took Canterbolg and defected north to the Griffon Kingdom, where he was received by King Galileus and Princess Gerda. As a dragon, he would not be welcome among the citizenry, but his strength could turn the tide of battle for the griffon army.
Princess Gerda watched Fulgur as he trained, and soon became infatuated by the sheer size of his muscles and the glimmering sheen of his scales. It was such that when he was called upon to fight on the battlefield, the griffon princess volunteered to join him.
This unbecoming act of bravery drew the suspicion of her father. Then, when a courier later reported that the pair had been seen past courting upon their travels, King Galileus became furious, and sought to teach the daughter-defiling dragon a lesson.
The next morning, Fulgur awoke with Gerda, and found that his sword had gone missing. Disallowed by the Rules of War to fight without a weapon, he fashioned himself a blade of stone, and carried on to Mount Aurealis.
There, Fulgur single-handedly won countless fights against other dragons before meeting an unlikely opponent: his brood-sister Fulmina. ‘What manner of sword is this?’ she asked him, knowing that neither wanted to derank the other. Using it as an excuse, she made him a deal: ‘I will spare your banner this time, and you will spare mine should we meet again.’
Fulgur agreed, and retreated for the night. Upon the coming dawn, a courier returned to him his confiscated sword with apologies from the King. The griffons needed him now more than ever, for the dragons had advanced upon the northern side of the mountain, and his draconic strength was their last hope. As a reward, he would be permitted to marry Princess Gerda.
With renewed purpose, Fulgur thrust his crystal sword skyward, and cast a rainbow across the heavens as a challenge to one and all. A fierce battle ensued, and with each swing of Canterbolg, dozens of dragon banners fell.
Victory for the griffons was all but assured, until atop the mountain, Fulgur reached Dragon Lord Crater. Rather than draw his weapon, Crater knowingly summoned a champion to fight in his stead.
Thus, Fulgur found himself face to face with Fulmina once more. This time, with his true sword in claw, taking her banner would be a simple matter. Yet, honour-bound by his promise, he instead elected to turn around and, without a word, flew away.
That was the last anyone heard of Fulgur. To this day, it is believed that with him, somewhere in lands unknown, rests Canterbolg, the legendary sword of Light forged in dragonfire.”
Ponies nearby whisper some oohs and aahs, and begin to chat about their thoughts on the story once again, when a familiar filly’s piercing voice suddenly echoes from distant loudspeakers.
Leaf Chaser: “Attention everypony! The closing ceremony is starting in ten minutes in the town square! Huh? No, it’s— No, the festival keeps going until midnight! But Mom and Dad wanna say goodnight before they go to bed. Yeah. So uh, yeah! Closing ceremony in ten minutes!”
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