Part Four: Last Wish
The Wind Thief
Part 4: Last Wish
Sly had not intended to eavesdrop.
She was, nevertheless, perched upon the roof of her home, head hanging over the eaves to listen to the conversation below. To be fair, she had been on the roof for more than an hour, practicing skulking over the tiles without making a sound. It was only a coincidence that her parents started arguing when she was over their room.
They were arguing a lot more often, lately. Silly things. Adult things. Relatives, money, dragons. Sly glanced up at the sky for a moment.
“...but now there’s no town left to stay in. What do you think you’re proving by...” Her mother’s voice trailed off as she moved away from the window. She was a quiet arguer; her softest voice was the most dangerous to hear.
Not her father. His voice carried easily out of their room. “I’m proving that we will not be bullied!” he barked. “We have to prove that these things can be beaten.”
Her mother said something in reply, too quiet for Sly to hear. She leaned farther over the eaves.
“You can tell Iris where to stuff her offer!” Her father’s voice again. “I am not going to uproot this family just because you’re afraid!”
A door slammed — her father’s way of ending arguments. Sly sighed and pulled herself back onto the roof. Whatever offer her aunt had made was apparently not going to be accepted. Too bad. She loved visiting Aunt Iris in Fillydelphia.
The wind picked up, ruffling her mane and tail. She moved with the air, dancing gracefully along the rooftop to the other side of their house. The drop to the ground was about ten feet. She landed on her front hooves like a cat and rolled forward for no particular reason other than wanting to get a bit dirty. Mom hated when she got dirty.
Around her, the small town square was nearly empty. Only a few stalls remained, farmers selling the last of the day’s produce before packing their wares. She considered sneaking some fruits from the nearest stand, but the pony standing behind it had already seen her and was giving her a hard stare. She smiled innocently and trotted away. Maybe tomorrow.
Another burst of wind sent dry leaves flying into the air. She shivered a bit. Yesterday was summer. Tomorrow would be winter, but today was forever Autumn, ever on the cusp of the changing seasons. Time moved slowly for foals, and no less slowly for her. Although the season had only just begun, it was already colder than harvest time last year. The weather: one of the few topics her parents talked about in normal tones.
As usual, there was no one her age to play with. Stupid dragons. She wished, not for the first time, that they would go away. She wished she had friends again.
Sly was not in pain when she woke. She was not seriously injured. Nor did she require any healing potions. Things were looking up for once.
She stretched silently, pushing her forelegs out as far as they would go. Beside her, Twilight Sparkle mumbled something and pressed against her side.
Yes, definitely looking up.
Rather than wake Twilight immediately, Sly floated a few more boards into the embers of the campfire. The dry wood smoldered and soon began to burn, filling the dark room with a comforting yellow light. If she looked only at the fire, she could almost forget they were deep beneath the earth on the threshold of yet another cursed tomb.
Twilight eventually stirred, roused by the warmth of the fire and the faint sound of the crackling wood. She groaned quietly and pressed a hoof against her forehead. A large bump had formed overnight where she had struck the wall. It was big enough to be uncomfortable, but not serious enough to warrant a healing potion. Not that they had any.
“Good morning. Feel any better?” Sly asked.
“A little,” Twilight said. “I don’t suppose you have any coffee hidden in those bags?”
“Sorry, not my thing.”
Twilight muttered something under her breath. Sly only caught the word “prepared.”
“It’s not morning without coffee,” she grumbled. “For that matter, how do we know it’s morning? It could be sunset outside.”
Sly shrugged. “It feels like morning. That’s good enough for me.” She slipped out from beneath the blanket and stretched again, working out the kinks that invariably came from sleeping on a stone floor. Aside from a few stinging spots on her flank where Cianim’s venom had splashed her, she was completely untouched. Not bad, considering how close they had both been to becoming spider food.
Twilight folded the blanket and stuffed it back into the saddlebag, then stood with a slight wince. She gave her head a careful shake and turned abruptly to Sly.
“How does it look?” she asked.
“Huh?”
“My mane. How does it look?”
Sly bit her lip. Twilight’s bangs were gone, completely exposing her forehead and the base of her horn. Despite Sly’s best efforts to preserve as much of Twilight’s mane as possible, she’d had to shear off almost everything above the mare’s neck, leaving only a short ruff of dark purple hair running in a line up to the top of her skull. As fashion statements went, it was somewhat lacking, but there was probably a street gang somewhere in Canterlot that would love it.
“It’s fine,” she said. “A little short, but if you hadn’t asked me I probably wouldn’t even have noticed.” It was not the biggest lie she had ever told, but it was pretty close.
“Oh.” Twilight visibly perked up. “Well, that’s a relief. You had me worried last night.”
Sly let out a quiet breath. Now, just keep her away from a mirror until we get back to Canterlot. She put on her best smile, then helped Twilight repack their saddlebags.
The metal door at the end of the cavern was the largest they had encountered in the tomb. Some abstract design, looking faintly like a pony’s skull, stared at them from its carved surface. Above it, as with the other doors, waited a plaque bearing odd, angular script.
“Three sons, right?” Sly asked. She kept her voice as low and quiet as possible.
“According to the histories, yes,” Twilight answered. She peered up at the plaque and began reading. “Theostre, first born. Theostre, exalted. Theostre, demon. Theostre, be bound here forever. Theostre, in...” Twilight stumbled, her eyes dancing across the plaque. “Sorry, some unusual words here. I have to guess what they mean. Uh... Theostre, in mind-forged niedl... hm, in mind-forged manacles be supplicant, amongst riches be impoverished, from greatness be cast down. Theostre, stand watch until sun and moon and stars cease to be, and in their ceasing forget at last your crimes, Theostre.”
They were both quiet for a while. Finally, Sly blurted, “What the hell does that mean?”
Twilight shrugged. “Presumably it was meaningful to whoever created this place. Aside from their names, there’s almost no surviving details about Curalmil’s sons. Just that they died fighting to claim his throne.”
Well, can’t be worse than the giant spiderpony, right? Sly placed a hoof against the door and was about to push when something small and oddly bright caught her eye. Leaning closer to the door, she saw a thin strip of paper, yellow with age, pasted across the seam in the double door. An intricate rune was drawn in black ink upon it. It wasn’t like any trap she had ever seen.
“Hey Twi, what’s this?” She stepped to the side to let the other mare get a closer look.
Twilight squinted at the paper slip. Her horn glowed, and a tiny spark arced across the gap to the rune, causing it to shine briefly with a faint purple light.
“It’s a conjuration rune,” she said. “Harmless, probably part of the binding originally placed on Theostre. Did the other doors have these?”
Sly shook her head. “No. I’d have noticed them breaking if there were.”
Twilight sighed. “Well, I guess we can ask Theostre about it.”
She’s joking. Please let her be joking. Sly gave Twilight a sidelong glance, then placed her hoof back on the door and pushed. The doors slowly swung open; the slip of paper tore in half as the doors parted, the black rune sparking and burning the paper into ash.
Twilight flinched.
Crap. Sly floated her sword out, holding it in front of them. The hallway beyond didn’t seem particularly threatening; it ran about twenty feet straight to another door, more modest than the first. Magelights bound to metal torches lit the corridor with a gentle white light.
“What? You said it was harmless.”
“Yes,” Twilight said. “Technically, I mean.”
Sly felt a cold chill start running up her spine. “Twilight...”
“It’s just a binding rune,” she added quickly. “It’s harmless in the same sense that your bow is harmless.”
Sly glanced over her shoulder at Nightfall. “Twilight, that bow has probably killed more ponies than we’ve met.”
“No no. It’s the arrows that ki—” Twilight stopped, frowning. “That hurt ponies. The bow itself is harmless.”
Sly resisted the urge to crack Twilight over the head with the bow to demonstrate its harmlessness. Instead she sighed and took a slow, careful step into the corridor. It was surprisingly well-tended, lacking the layers of dust, cobwebs and general air of neglect that permeated the rest of the tomb.
“So, what would you say is harmful?” she asked.
“Well, I didn’t think it would still be active after this long,” Twilight said, falling in behind Sly. “But it’s possible we just unbound Theostre.”
They paused at the second set of doors. Behind them, their campfire was a distant yellow flicker. “Why didn’t the other doors have bindings, then?” Sly asked. She put her sword away and levitated Nightfall in front of her. Four arrows left, she noted.
“I have no idea.” Twilight sounded genuinely baffled.
Sly took a deep breath, willing her body to calm. Aiming, even magically, was much easier when not shaking with adrenaline. She levitated an arrow onto the bowstring, aimed at the door, and drew it back.
“Pop it open, please?”
Twilight nodded, then focused on the door. A light purple glow surrounded the wood surface, and it swung smoothly open. Its hinges didn’t even squeak.
Sly lowered the bow, slowly letting back on the string. “Well, this place just keeps getting weirder,” she said.
The hall beyond the door appeared to be a museum. The stone walls were lined with displays of everything from animal hides to ancient banners, full sets of armor, crossed weapons and display tables bearing gems and smaller items. Large, arched doorways lined the hall, each apparently leading to another room of treasures.
“Have you ever seen anything like this?” Twilight whispered. She stepped carefully over to the nearest display, a table holding a series of faintly glowing gems, lined up from smallest to largest. They appeared to be some sort of blue quartz, except for the last, which was a smokey black.
“No. Most tombs are filled with draugr and skeletons, and if you’re lucky a bit of gold. This is like something from your palace.” Now that she thought about it, many of the displays were strikingly similar to the ones in Celestia’s library. Greed and caution warred within her as she approached another display.
“I guarantee you we don’t have any black soul gems in the palace,” Twilight said. Distaste was plainly written on her features as she looked at the display.
Most of the items on display appeared to be antiques. Valuable, probably, but not immediately useful. Sly made a mental note to pass back through the museum on the way out and grab as much of it as she could carry, but for the moment, she left the artifacts untouched.
Oddly, it was Twilight who stopped by one of the cases, her eye caught by something inside. “Is that real?” she wondered aloud, breathless.
Sly tiptoed over to see what had snagged her attention. The glass case held a simple silver necklace adorned by a small grey stone carved in the shape of a crescent. It didn’t strike her as very expensive. Still, if Twilight was interested...
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s a very rare amulet.” Twilight glanced at the simple lock on the case, then blushed slightly. “Do you think you could, you know...” She made a vague motion with her hoof.
Sly managed not to snicker. The moment was too good to spoil. Instead she levitated one of her lockpicks into the latch and easily disengaged the mechanism. The case clicked, and she lifted the top with her hoof.
Twilight reached a hoof out to the necklace, then stopped. She put her hoof back down and bit her lip.
“What?” Sly asked. “It’s not trapped.”
“It’s just... I don’t want to steal anything.”
Seriously? Sly sighed. “Twilight, it’s not stealing if it’s for a good cause.”
That was all the justification Twilight needed. “Well, if you say so,” she said. The necklace glowed and lifted out of the case, then settled over Twilight’s head, coming to rest with the stone against her breast. It looked nice on her. Beautiful, really.
“So, what is it?”
“It’s a lunar medallion.” Twilight tapped the gemstone crescent with her hoof. “It makes it easier to use warding spells.” She noticed Sly’s blank look, and added, “Like my shield.”
“Ah. Would you say it’s expensive?”
“Priceless, actually, though I suppose you could find somepony to—” She stopped and scowled at Sly, who did her best to look innocent.
The hall ended in an open, arched doorway, beyond which lay a circular room, empty except for a shallow pool of water in the center. In the middle of the pool, an oval mirror floated a few inches above a small marble pedestal. Nothing appeared to be holding it up, Sly noticed with some unease. Across the room, a closed door presumably led deeper into the museum.
“I’m going to be asking this a lot in here,” Sly said, “but what is that?”
“A scrying device of some sort,” Twilight said. She carefully stepped into the ankle-deep pool and stood before the mirror. “Show me Princess Celestia,” she said to it in a clear, even voice. The mirror’s surface fogged, then cleared, revealing an image of the princess atop her throne, apparently listening to a courtier’s plea before her court.
“Well, at least we know it’s daytime,” Sly said.
“Not necessarily,” Twilight said over her shoulder. She turned back to the mirror and spoke again, “Show me Princess Celestia as she appears at this moment.” The mirror fogged again, and when it cleared, the princess was sleeping on a huge bed, barely visible behind gauzy curtains.
Twilight grinned. This was clearly her element. “Mirrors like this can be tricky. You have to ask the right question.” She cleared her throat and addressed it again. “Show me the Wind’s Eye.”
The mirror fogged, but when it cleared, it showed only her reflection. Twilight frowned. “Show me Theostre,” she said to it. The mirror fogged and cleared again, the same as before. She scowled.
“Show me Rarity,” she said. The mirror showed a fetching white unicorn seated at a table, preparing to eat a meal. Twilight hummed quietly.
Who the hell is Rarity? Sly wondered. She was about to ask when Twilight spoke.
“There must be limits to what it can show,” she said. “It might be limited to what the viewer is already familiar with.”
“And the Wind’s Eye?” Sly asked.
Twilight shrugged. She gave the mirror another look, then turned to Sly with a frown. “Seriously? It looks fine?”
Huh? Oh, right, the mane. Sly put on her best smile. “I think it looks fine,” she said.
Twilight rolled her eyes. She didn’t seem too upset by the obvious lie, at least. Maybe fashion wasn’t her thing. Or maybe the head injury was worse than Sly realized. Something to consider. Whichever it was, Twilight hopped out of the pool without comment, pausing only to flick some of the water on her hooves at Sly as she passed. One of the droplets struck Sly on the snout, then ran down her lips. It tasted old and dusty. How water managed to taste dusty was another mystery she filed away for later.
There was nothing special about the door on the far side of the pool. It was constructed of plain wood, dry but otherwise undamaged by the passage of time. Compared to the others they had already passed, it seemed out of place in its normalcy. No obvious traps. No signs foretelling the doom of anypony foolish enough to pass through. Just wood, hinges and a handle.
A faint feeling of unease began to build in Sly’s gut.
“What’s wrong?” Twilight asked. She kept her voice quiet, apparently picking up on Sly’s nerves.
“Probably nothing,” Sly mumbled. She gave it another, more thorough look. Still no traps. “Yeah... nothing. Open it?” She raised the bow in front of her and stood back.
Twilight glanced between Sly and the door, then shrugged and backed off to the side. Her horn glowed, and the door swung slowly toward her, revealing the dim room beyond. They waited a moment, and when the world didn’t end, stepped through together.
It appeared to be a library of some sort. Large bookshelves ringed the wide room, lit by magelights spaced evenly around the perimeter. More books than Sly thought had existed stuffed the shelves, sharing space with odd metal statuettes, bookends and various other expensive-looking artifacts.
But the focus of the room was the object sitting atop a pedestal in its very center. A glass globe, mottled with green and blue and about the size of a foal, slowly turned upon a thick brass rod. A few feet out from the globe, a small silver ball spun in a slow circle, glowing with its own gentle light. Further out, a tiny, brilliant star, shining like the sun, orbited more quickly. It was almost too bright to look at directly, and cast shifting shadows around the room.
“Twilight?” Sly asked, staring at the spinning relic. Her own voice sounded distant, subdued, as though the walls were made of cotton rather than stone. The air felt thick and sluggish against her face.
“It’s... a model solar system,” Twilight said. She took a step closer to the center, her eyes fixated on the device. “Magical, I think,” she added, less than helpfully. It was good to know her powers of perception were undamaged by the blow to her head.
Sly stepped up beside her, squinting against the glare from the miniature sun. The floor felt odd beneath her hooves, almost as though something were muffling the sound of her hooves. She tapped the stone flagstones curiously, managing to produce only the faintest of taps. The thick air grew even heavier, like the most humid day of summer, but still smelled as dry and stale as the rest of the tomb.
Weirder and weirder. She opened her mouth to say so to Twilight when a shadow, perched on a throne on the far side of the room, moved.
Sly raised the bow, relying entirely on reflex. The arrow was set and drawn even as Twilight turned to her, a surprised look beginning to appear on her face. Time seemed to slow as she sighted down the arrow and released the string.
The arrow sped across the library, but rather than planting itself firmly in the shadowy figure, it began to slow, as though flying through molasses. It crawled through the air, passing just a few feet to the side of the model, where it finally came to a stop.
Almost a stop. Sly could see it slowly inching its way forward, still pointed forward. The feathers on the arrow’s shaft drifted minutely in the frozen air. Shadows shifted over it as the tiny sun continued its orbit around the glass globe.
“What the...” she muttered, staring in confusion at the floating arrow. Even the figure across the room was forgotten in the moment. Her grip on Nightfall relaxed and the bow sank to the ground, the hum of its vibrating string going quiet as it touched the floor.
“A time well,” Twilight said, her eyes wide and as full of wonder as her voice. She took another, hesitant step toward the sculpture.
“I wouldn’t go any closer, if I were you,” a voice said. The words were slurred, almost unintelligible, and seemed to come from their sides, like a pair of echoes arguing with each other. The shadow stood, and the light of the tiny sun finally revealed the speaker.
He had been a pony once, and still wore the form of one. Dry, bleached skin stretched tight across his face like the head of a drum, revealing the sharp angles of his skull. Teeth, long and yellow with age, peeked out from beneath rotting lips. His mane was a ragged tuft of dirty hair dangling from the hood of his robe. Only his eyes, bright and shining stars in the shadows of his hood, gave any hint to the life that still burned within his breast.
For a pony, he was a terrible, imposing figure. The worst kind of draugr, one still awake and alive with intelligence and cunning. Compared to Ageund and Cianim, however, he barely seemed to qualify as a menace. Unarmed, unarmored, unthreatening. They regarded him warily as he left the throne and began to circle around the room, always keeping his distance from the glass relic at its center.
Sly snapped the bow back up, though she held her fire for the moment. No point in wasting another arrow. Instead she stepped forward, putting herself between him and Twilight.
“Watch your step.” His mouth moved, but out of time with his words. Too fast or too slow, Sly couldn’t decide which. After a moment’s puzzlement, his meaning hit her, and she gave a quick glance down at the floor.
Her hoof was nearly on a blue line that had been drawn on the ground, forming a circle perhaps thirty feet across, centered around the glass globe. Two more concentric circles were drawn closer: a yellow ring halfway to the globe, and a red ring just a few feet across. Her arrow still hung in the air, just above the red line. It might have moved an inch or so from when she had last looked several seconds before.
“Be thankful for them. They took ages to draw. Years, even,” the draugr said. His voice was clearer, sharper, more in time with his lips as he moved around the room toward them.
“Stay back,” Sly warned, floating an arrow from her quiver. She nocked it on the string, but didn’t draw just yet.
A dry, gravelly rumble filled the room. His robes shook, and after a moment, they realized he was laughing.
“Oh, you are a feisty one,” he said. “How wonderful it is to be in the presence of life again.” His rasping voice made her skin crawl. “And your friend there is correct: it is a time well. The most powerful ever crafted, in fact.”
Twilight stepped up beside her. She shook her head, as though trying to flick her mane out of her eyes, before realizing there was nothing left but a buzz of hair. A slight scowl appeared briefly on her face, forced away as she spoke. “Theostre, I presume?”
He stopped several pony lengths away, his eyes flicking between them and Sly’s bow. After several moments of consideration, he turned his gaze fully to Twilight, dismissing Sly as inconsequential. An irrational part of her was offended, and her grip on the bow tightened. Stealth was good and all, but being deliberately ignored stung.
“Yes. Unlike my brothers, I remember who I was,” he said. His words were perfectly clear and in time with his lips. “Thank you for defeating them, by the way. Two less hassles for me to deal with.”
Hassles? Sly squinted at him. Neither of the other two brothers would have even the slightest difficulty wiping the floor with this pony. He didn’t appear stronger than any other draugr, any other dessicated corpse cursed to walk the halls of its tomb for eternity. No, those were words he should not be using. Which made her very, very wary.
This is a trap, isn’t it? Sly swallowed nervously. He was far too confident for a pony with an arrow pointed at his breast. She took a careful step back and away from the blue circle.
Twilight didn’t pick up on Sly’s caution. “Then you must know why we are here,” she said. “We have no quarrel with you. If you will allow us to pass and claim the Wind’s Eye we will leave you in peace.”
He laughed again, filling the room with the same sandy rasp as before. A glacial chill wafted from his body, setting the hairs in Sly’s coat on end.
“Well, that is very kind,” he said. “However, I’m afraid I have plans for the Vindauga that do not involve you, beyond the minor point of unsealing my father’s crypt for me. Alas, my dear sister was very careful when interring me here.” The way he spat the word “sister” made it clear she was anything but dear to him.
Sister? Sly gave Twilight a quick glance. No luck. She seemed just as confused by the revelation.
Twilight frowned, somehow managing to look serious despite her absurd mane cut. “Princess Celestia sent us to retrieve the Eye,” she said. “As sovereign, it is her right to claim it for the crown. You will let us pass and not interfere when we depart.”
He tilted his head, the hood of his cloak falling slightly to the side to reveal more of his emaciated form. Patches of dry skin hung from his neck in tatters, the same pale, dusty hue as his face. “You don’t understand, do you?” he said. “You’re foals, ordering a dragon to surrender his horde. You don’t just fail to comprehend, you lack the context to even realize the depths of your own ignorance. Celestia has no writ here.” Anger deepened his voice, the sparks in his eyes flashing like sunlight on water. “This is my realm, not hers, and certainly not yours,” he growled.
Sly drew the arrow back. Still he ignored her, his eyes locked on Twilight. At that range, Nightfall would probably take his head off, but he seemed as concerned with her as the ocean with a drop of rain. A tiny worm of fear, her old despised friend, began crawling around her heart.
“Twilight,” she said softly, trying to get the other mare’s attention. No luck. She glanced quickly around the room for a place to hide. Even less luck.
“You must have seen the dragons,” Twilight said. She took a step toward Theostre. “They’ve returned, some say to end the world. The princess is doing everything she can to stop them but it’s not enough. The jewel might be enough to turn the tide.”
He snorted. “I care not for the dragons. They were defeated before. Eventually a Dragonborn will appear and we can sacrifice him for another thousand years of peace.”
Whoa. Whoawhoawhoawhoa... whoa. Sly’s eyes went wide. Theostre kept talking, making grand gestures with his hooves, but she heard none of it. His last words replayed in her head. Sacrifice? What the hell does that mean? She had never actually bothered to research how the last Dragonborn had defeated the dragons, all those centuries ago. That was history, and history was boring. All that had mattered was that she was the Dragonborn, that she was special, that she deserved adoration and riches.
But sacrifice? That wasn’t what she signed up for. Come to think of it, her claims had never garnered any riches or adoration, just suicidal quests into cursed tombs fighting centuries-old abominations. A change in careers might be in order after they returned to Canterlot, she decided.
Twilight was talking now and sounded angrier than ever. Sly shook her head to clear it and tuned back into their argument.
“We will not open the crypt for you,” Twilight shouted, stomping a hoof for emphasis. “Frankly I’m beginning to understand why you were sealed down here in the first place. Now, for the last time, stand aside and let us pass!”
That was the sound of a fight starting, and it was better to get the first blow in than the second. Sly sighted down the arrow at Theostre’s neck and released the string. Unlike her first arrow, still crawling through the air near the globe, the second flew perfectly, zipping past Twilight’s ear and plunging deep into the draugr’s neck. His head snapped back with an audible crack, and a moment later, he collapsed in a dusty heap.
Twilight stared in shock at the body, then rounded on Sly. “You... you shot him!” she shouted.
Sly shrugged. “Look, we both know he wasn’t going to let us go with the jewel. Would you rather have fought him fairly?”
Twilight spluttered and was about to speak when a quiet rattle drew their attention. She spun around in time to see Theostre climbing back to his feet, the fletchings of Sly’s arrow still sticking out of his neck just under his jaw. He glared at them both.
“We could have done this simply,” he said. Despite the arrow in his voice box, he didn’t seem to have any trouble speaking. “I would have been happy to let you live. You could have joined me, even! With the Vindauga we would have been powerful enough to cast down Celestia and rule in her place.
“But now we have to do it the hard way,” he continued. “There are some exceptionally creative implements of torture in here. I’m sure they will prove persuasive enough for one of you.”
That was less than encouraging. Sly did the only thing that came to mind — she shot him again.
The arrow staggered him, though far less than the one in his neck. He glanced down at the shaft protruding from his chest, then gave her an annoyed look. She was about to shoot him with her final arrow when he broke into laughter.
“You still don’t understand, do you?” he wheezed. “You think you can kill me? Little pony, I am immortal. That was my wish.”
Ohhh... wish. Hm. Suddenly arrows seemed a lot less effective. She glanced at Twilight, but the other mare was staring at Theostre in open-mouthed shock. No help there.
Theostre didn’t wait for them to recover. He raised his hoof into the air and began chanting in a strange, guttural tongue that hurt Sly’s ears to hear. An orange nimbus glowed around his hoof as he traced a small pattern in the air that ended with a sharp gesture. The glow erupted in a blinding flash as his hoof touched the floor, and for a moment, all light in the room was consumed in the brilliant blue glare of a portal opening before them. Just as quickly, the glare vanished, and the room fell into darkness.
Sly blinked her watering eyes, momentarily blinded by the flash. She heard Twilight stumbling beside her, and felt a terrible, frigid breeze against her face. Slowly, far too slowly, her eyes readjusted to the darkness, and the monstrous form before them came into view.
The frost atronach was tall for its kind, easily the largest she had ever seen. A statue carved from blocks of cloudy blue ice, it towered over the three ponies, its snowy mane brushing against the stone ceiling high above their heads. A ring of frost, growing wider with each passing second, appeared on the floor around its hooves. What passed for its breath chilled her to the bone.
“But... that’s impossible!” Twilight said. She backed away from the atronach, nearly falling when she bumped into Sly. “You’re an earth pony!”
Theostre sighed. “Yes, yes. Believe me, I’ve heard it all before. Forbidden magic, abomination, et cetera, et cetera.” He turned and looked up at the atronach. “Kill the blue one.”
That would be her. Reflexes honed from dozens of battles against draugr and worse saved her life. She leapt to the side in a desperate dive, barely clearing the atronach’s massive hoof as it smashed the floor where she had been standing. The construct snorted at her, bathing her in air so cold her skin burned. Her pale blue coat turned white with frost.
“Sly!” Twilight shouted. She barely avoided the construct’s attack herself. She backed away and lowered her horn at the elemental. A tiny red ember built at the tip of her horn, and she scrunched her eyes closed against the coming fireball.
It never came. Before she could release the spell a blast of lightning struck her in the side, knocking her to the floor and scoring a dark line on her coat. She howled in pain, the ember evaporating.
“No, little pony,” Theostre said. “I am your opponent. It’s been too long since I’ve had a proper mage’s duel."
Immortal and crazy. That’s great. Sly turned and ran from the construct, following the outside edge of the room, always staying on the safe side of the blue circle. With any luck the construct would try to walk directly toward her and get stuck in the time well, or whatever it was. Her first arrow was still floating near the relic, having barely moved during their argument with Theostre. Across the room, another bolt of lightning struck at Twilight, only to vanish against a glowing shield that appeared around the mare.
The atronach didn’t fall for her trap. It strode around the edge of the room at a walking pace, but its huge strides ate up the distance between them with ease. Worse, there was no where to run. If she kept circling around the room she would bump back into Theostre, who was probably more than capable of squishing her like a bug, even as he dueled with Twilight.
The atronach had to die. She waited for it to draw a bit closer, then launched her final arrow at its huge foreleg. The steel broadhead smashed through the solid ice without even slowing down, shattering the limb and sending the entire construct crashing to the floor. It grunted, washing her with another blast of frozen air, and struggled to stand on its remaining legs.
She didn’t give it a chance. Her sword flicked off her back and into the air, sliding alongside her as she charged the atronach. A primitive part of her mind demanded that she shout out a battle cry, but too many years of sneaking had destroyed whatever instincts she may have had. Instead she let out an embarrassing squeak, hopefully unheard by Twilight or Theostre, and launched herself at the construct.
Its enormous head, vaguely shaped like a pony’s, split in two as it opened its jaws to welcome her. She slid around its bite with a dancer’s grace, the sword lashing out under her magical command to stab at its neck as she passed. Chunks of ice the size of her hoof broke away from her strike to land on the ground with a clatter. She jumped over a boulder of ice broken from its leg and rolled beneath its belly, dragging her sword along its body the entire way. More ice fell to the floor.
The room shook as Twilight and Theostre continued their duel on the far side of the room. Oddly muffled booms and crashes reached her, echoing out of time with the flashes that caused them. A low, droning rumble began to build as the shock waves from Twilight’s fireballs became trapped around the glass relic and slowly bled out the other side. Her first arrow, tiny and insignificant amidst the chaos, trembled slightly in the air, continuing on its slow, inexorable path across the room.
Sly gave the duel only the briefest moment of attention before turning back to the frost atronach. The construct was badly damaged, barely able to stand on its three remaining legs. Nevertheless, it turned to her with the single-minded focus of an automaton and reared onto its hind legs, ready to crush her with a single stomp.
She avoided the blow easily, rolling to the side and slashing with her sword at the exposed leg. Its knee cracked, and with a deafening crunch the construct crashed to the floor. A ferocious grin stretched across her face as she stood, and with a real, honest-to-Celestia battle cry she drove her sword hilt-deep into its chest.
Take that! she exulted. A tremendous euphoria crested and washed over her as the atronach spasmed and fell still.
But not dead. Even as she pulled the sword from its side a brilliant blue light flashed within its icy form. She had enough time for a puzzled blink before the construct exploded, blasting her off her hooves and pelting her with shards of ice.
She landed fluidly, rolling instantly to her hooves. Nothing appeared broken, and only a few of the shards had struck exposed skin, the rest easily deflected by her armor. Everything seemed fine. Fine and quiet. Very quiet.
Behind her, the flashes from the mages’ duel were coming extraordinarily fast. There was almost no time between the attacks, and as she turned she beheld one of the oddest sights in her short career as an adventurer.
Twilight and Theostre still fought, but at remarkable speed. They flashed around the room like hummingbirds darting from flower to flower, pausing for split seconds to cast spells that flared and died almost too quick for her to see. Everything was moving too fast. Impossibly fast.
Or... she glanced down at the floor. The blue line was several feet away. Her left foreleg was planted nearly atop the yellow line. The glass model spun, rapidly now, just a dozen feet away.
Or she was moving much, much slower.
She spun away from the relic and dove for the blue line. Time felt normal to her -- her wounds still ached, her reactions were as snappy as before. Only the world around her gave any hint that something was wrong. With a final leap she soared over the blue line, landing on her hooves. A few seconds had passed since the atronach burst, she thought.
She was wrong. Theostre stood before her, waiting, as she landed. She hadn’t even seen him move.
“Welcome back,” he said, looking down at her. “I was wondering how long it would take you to escape. Just a few minutes, it turns out. Not bad for your first time.”
If he had won the duel with Twilight, it wasn’t by much. His robes had been blasted apart at some point, exposing his charred, riven hide. One of his forelegs was simply gone, the splintered end of a bone sticking out from a draping of ruined flesh. As she watched, though, the muscles and tissues around the wound began to knit themselves back together, slowly recreating his missing limb.
Sly stumbled back, away from the draugr, and gave the room a quick, desperate glance. Twilight lay across from them, still and blackened from Theostre’s assault. Smoke rose from her charred coat. Sly’s heart nearly stopped at the sight. Oh no no nonono...
Theostre noticed her panic, and chuckled. “Don’t worry about your friend. A bit of restorative magic and she’ll be fine. In fact, she’ll even make a wonderful consort for me, after I replace Celestia.” He took a careful step forward. His missing limb was almost completely regenerated, lacking only a hoof.
“Stay back!” she shouted. Her voice nearly broke; she was out of arrows and her sword was nowhere to be seen. She cast about desperately for anything that could be used as a weapon. If he could defeat Twilight, what chance did she have?
Not much of one, he apparently decided. He followed her around the room as she backed away, and spoke almost conversationally.
“You can escape, you know,” he said. “Just run across the room to the door, and be sure to touch the time well on your way. It will only feel like a few seconds to you. For us, however...” he trailed off, his head tilting in thought. “Well, it’s hard to say, but probably thousands of years will pass.”
That didn’t sound like a very good deal. She stumbled backwards, tripping over a piece of ice from the broken atronach and landing hard on her rump. Nothing remotely resembling a weapon was at hand: her sword was buried in the icy rubble that remained of the atronach, two of her arrows were still in Theostre, and the third was nowhere to be seen. Only the first arrow, slowly crawling through the air as it passed the relic, was remotely reachable. Crawling, inching its way along, no longer frozen in place.
It was starting to emerge from the well.
Sly looked behind her. The throne, where Theostre had been sitting when they entered, was just a few feet away. She scrambled toward it and stood, bracing her hooves against its seat for support.
“Hm, no, I’m afraid that’s mine,” Theostre said behind her. She spun, in time to see his horn flash with a dark purple light. Black tendrils rose from the ground, snaking their way along her body to her throat. They brushed against her neck, and before she could jerk away constricted like a noose.
Wait... horn? Between futile gasps for breath, she focused her watering eyes on his forehead, barely visible beneath the remains of his hood. A black soul gem, carved in the shape of a unicorn’s horn, had been driven through his skull, and flickered with a dark internal light. Forbidden magic, indeed.
His horn glowed again, and the tendrils lifted her into the air by her neck. She tried to pry them off, but they were like iron bands. Slippery as eels, stronger than a giant. Her vision began to go black around the edges.
“What’s this?” he said. He leaned closer, a puzzled look on his decaying face as he inspected her. “There’s more to your soul than meets the eye. What are you hiding in there, little pony?”
She tried to speak, to beg. Anything to buy some time. More time... The thought was the last thing in her head as the darkness closed on her vision.
And then suddenly lifted as the tendrils around her neck evaporated, dropping her on the floor. Theostre grunted, an odd, liquid sound that shouldn’t have come from a pony. She gasped in a ragged breath and looked up at his tottering form.
The tip of her arrow protruded from his forehead, just below the artificial horn. Just in time, it had finally crossed the room.
Theostre’s eyes rolled up, staring at the gore-slicked barb sticking from his skull. Blood trickled down his face to splatter on the floor. He shook and fell forward onto his knees, a ragged gasp bursting from his mouth.
Perhaps he would have recovered in time. He was immortal, after all, and had already taken two arrows that would’ve killed a normal pony, not to mention all of Twilight’s punishment. Yes, given enough time, he would probably recover. Fortunately for him, an eternity was near at hand.
Sly drew in a breath and held it in her lungs. The familiar spark of her Thu’um ignited the air, and her voice exploded as she shouted in his face. “FUS!”
The word knocked him off his hooves and shoved him across the floor. Over the blue line, over the yellow line, over the red line. Slower and slower he slid across the floor, his expression shocked, unchanging, uncomprehending, until he finally slowed to a stop at the foot of the time well. The tatters that remained of his robe hung in the air around him like birds frozen in the air. An insect, trapped forever in amber.
Sly panted, her throat raw and painful from shouting so soon after being throttled. Flecks of blood decorated the floor as she coughed. For several long moments, she wheezed, her windpipe narrower than a piece of straw. Her vision swam again, and she rested her forehead against the floor.
Twilight...
She ignored the pain, forcing herself to her hooves. Twilight still lay unmoving across the room. She trudged toward the fallen mare, careful to stay on the far side of the blue line.
Hopefully Theostre had kept some healing potions in his little museum.
Theostre had more than just a few potions. An entire room off the main corridor was dedicated to alchemical arts, and he stocked enough vials, flasks and elixirs for an apothecary. None were labelled, but the familiar blood red of healing potions caught her eye the moment she entered. She stuffed as many as she could fit into her saddlebags and stumbled back to the library and Twilight Sparkle.
The library stank of smoke and ozone, all that remained of the arcane duel between the two mages. A blueish haze filled the air and stung her eyes. Across the room, the frost atronach had already vanished, its icy corpse evaporated back into Oblivion. Her sword rested on the floor where the atronach had fallen. Twilight lay on the floor, unmoving.
Sly stopped.
What? Go help her, you fool! she berated herself. Every moment wasted was a moment Twilight might pass beyond saving. Move. Dammit, move!
But a dissident part of her mind was terrified. What if she was already dead? Worse, what if her wounds were so gruesome that not even an ocean of healing potions could save her? The horrible image of Twilight’s broken corpse filled her mind. Her legs froze, and she looked anywhere but at her friend.
Coward! She saved your life, and this is how you repay her?
She cringed, a hot well of shame rising like bile in her throat. Her hoof lifted, and she took a tentative step toward Twilight. Then another.
Go! Go to her!
She raised her head enough to glimpse the mare and nearly vomited. A greasy black stain discolored the stone floor beneath Twilight, reeking of burnt meat and blood. Her purple coat was gone, a memory, blasted away by Theostre’s lightning or blackened beyond all color. A horrific burn stretched from her left shoulder down her side. The edges of the wound were ash. Sly let out a quiet, hopeless wail, and jerked away.
No! No! You will not fail her! She walked through boiling water for you, and you’re too squeamish to help her? You think you’re the Dragonborn, but you can’t do this one simple thing?
Not enough. She gave Twilight another glance, but couldn’t hold her gaze in place. Her vision went grey around the edges as she began to hyperventilate, her legs shaking so badly the glass potions rattled like chimes in her bags.
“I’m sorry,” she moaned. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
Dragonborn? Fuck being Dragonborn. She’s not the Dragonborn but she still saved your life. Because she’s strong! She’s brave! She’s a better pony than you! Save her because she’s your friend!
Friend. What did it matter if she was the Dragonborn if she couldn’t save one life? If she couldn’t even try? She lifted her head and started walking again. One hoof, then another. Walking to her friend.
Sly kneeled and gently cradled Twilight’s head. Sightless eyes stared up at her, unblinking, unmoving. She floated a healing potion out of her bags, tore the stopper out with her teeth, and as gently as she could, poured the precious fluid into Twilight’s mouth. The crimson potion mixed with the blood leaking from Twilight’s lips, and after a while, she could no longer tell where one ended and the other began.
She did the same with the second potion. And the third.
And then, for the second time in her life, Sly prayed.
Footnote: Level Up (Sly)
New Perk: Steady Hoof — Zooming in with a bow slows time by 25%.
Footnote: Level Up (Twilight Sparkle)
New Perk: Apprentice Destruction — Cast Apprentice level Destruction spells for half magicka.
New Toy! Antique Lunar Medallion — Wards absorb 50% more damage but consume 50% more magicka.
{As always, thanks to my reviewers, especially Kurbz, Drakmire and Corejo. Also, please comment and rate! It's how writers get feedback, and feedback is the only way we get better.}
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First! New chapter WHOOOO!
Well written, I must say. I wait with bated breath for your next installment.
This is a great story the detail you provided for the villain and the time well as the center peice was spot on however I do feel the description of the room itself was slightly lacking. I feel as if I hadn't played skyrim myself I wouldn't have been able to picture what I think you were aiming for. I could think of a few versions for the scenery especially since it gets mixed with some of the boss battles I've done in skyrim. Other than that I think this story is very well written. I like the background we get of sly during the flashback sequences and they are the perfect length not too long not too short. I'd be interested in twilight's background and how her friends fit in this world but I feel that may come later anyway. Good job keep it up.
---GraffyHooves
Very interesting. Very interesting indeed... Go on...
Hey.
Hey.
When are you going to post an update for The First Light of Dawn?
sweetness. Sucks for the immortal dude. It will take him forever to leave the center of that room
139815
Well, really, for him it'll take just a few seconds. Mind you, the world might have turned to dust around him by that point.
Nice.
Wow... Just really amazing!
Vindauga. Winds Eye in norwegian... and quite possibly other scandinavian languages too. Maybe even norse. Not bad! It's always fun to find my native language in places like this xD
Hm. Not just native language; native dialect too.
Also; time near that "Time Well" behaves exactly like it would near a black hole. Was that intentional, or accidental? At any rate, it was very amusing for me to read, given that I'm a physicist xD
Also, woho! Level up notes for Twi too! =D
Thanks for this lovely update today; I think I was beginning to go insane with most of the internet down in protest of SOPA. xD
Half Magicka, but her amulet consumes 50% more magicka... so all it did was get stronger.
Okay, nice job on this chapter, I kind of thought by this point you would've gone for a completely different approach to fighting the last of the three brothers. Thinking you were going to go for a mental battle or something. But this was better. The time Well was a great touch for one thing. And Theostre was a good finish to the three brothers. That detail about his horn being a soul gem creeped me out. Like he just Stuck it in his skull such as the Forsworm Briar's replace their heart with that flower or whatever it is.
I feel so, so sorry for Twilight, no only getting messed up so much (and if she dies then god______ ) but also loosing her mane like that. Yeah I know on the brink of dying is a much bigger problem but still.
Dare I say, I look forward to what comes next.
The quality of this writing is just amazing. So much action, so much emotion. Its simply one of the best stories I've read yet! Please keep this up.
140641
A black hole was the temporal model I used for the time well, though I had to skip some details. Light, for instance, isn't affected by the time well, or you'd start to get some serious lensing effects on its surface.
As far as the name Vindauga, I think you'll like the next chapter. Goes into a bit more detail about how that name came about.
Thanks again for reading and commenting!
I have never played Skyrim, but I do love this fic! Sly is SO GREAT.
141430
Ah, true that. I didn't notice that detail :P
Aha? Nice! I'll be looking forward even more than usual then xD
You're welcome! =D It's the least I can do when you go to the lenght of actually writing this xD
This is a brilliant, epic story. Clever, exciting, emotional, endearing, rich... but then, I shouldn't be surprised. I didn't know that you were behind "The First Light of Dawn" until today! Another one of my favorite ongoing stories. Knowing that now, I don't feel so bad that it hasn't been updated lately. Though of course I hope you can get back to it eventually. In the meantime, this will more than tide me over!
A problem with the time well though: tidal effects. Even if the well isn't exerting direct force, if the side of your body closest to the well is moving much slower than the side furthest from it, you need to generate need immense internal stresses to keep them spatially connected and moving at the same rate w.r.t. an external reference -- like pulling half your body out of super glue, or trying to dive into it. With the kind of rapid falloff of time you showed over just a few feet, you'd be effectively immobile long before you ever hit the red line. Even further away where the body would be able to take that kind of tidal tension, blood would collect on the slower side of the body because it's not pumping out fast enough, and then you'd get...well...yeah...
Theostre, having been blasted right into it with great force, might actually pancake into himself midair.
Anyway, still a fun set piece even if it does make my inner physicist cry a bit.
146413
I actually thought about describing the tidal effects of the well, but it got too complex too fast. It certainly would be unpleasant, having different parts of your body in different timezones, as it were.
The most likely effect for someone walking too close to the well would be to get squished, as the front of your body slows down before the back of your body. :(
I'm sure she's fine right, RIGHT?
On a sidenote, amazing story. It's awesome and I can't wait for the next update.
Seriously, I can't wait. I'm starting to look like this
from staring at the computer screen for too long. xD Buuuut take your time of course! WE CANNOT RUSH GOOD WORK! That'd be just rude now wouldn't it? 
LEVEL UP!
Reminds me of the one time I got Lydia killed.
I totally get the desire to not put too much effort into figuring out the precise effects of the time well, but it did annoy me that Trixie found it to be quiet in there. If she was only in for a few minutes, I'd estimate the yellow line represents 100x dilation at most, and even slowed that much (which she wouldn't be), sounds up to about 335 Hz would be audible (about F4, apparently, if that means more to you than me). Most of the battle sounds ought to be fairly low-pitched, so she should be hearing strangely squeaky fireballs exploding and lighting bolts crackling.
Though at least the battle would probably have to be over 100 dB normally for the increase in energy to bring it to the point that it could damage her ears in the mere seconds she was near the well.
2006246 I do not think Sly is
because there is no 
tag and her name is Sly.
Now this room is one that needs to be looted from top to bottom. Those soul gems would sell quite nicely, and that amulet looks pretty swanky as well.
And that makes me wonder if the rest of the mane six are out there somewhere, especially AJ and her family since we had explicit mention of their abandoned farm. I bet the Nightmare Moon incident did not happen if Luna is long dead, or at least if it did happen it must have been rather different, so no guesses on whether the Elements are out there somewhere or if the girls have a connection to them.
An arrow trapped in a slow time trap? That's going to be relevant later on in the fight.
Hmn, that is probably the answer to what happened to Luna, especially if Celestia hopes that the Dragonborn will be her reborn.
I wonder if he's simply noticing her Dragonborn status, or maybe Luna as well if my earlier guess was on the money.
And there's the arrow, figures.
Yikes, that's not looking good for Twilight, though I'm guessing she isn't dead since she just earned a new perk.
"Whoa whoa whoa, hold on a minute here." Sly interjected quickly before Twilight could reply, "You're the first thinking pony we've met who hasn't tried to brutally murder us on sight. Hear me out for a moment will you?"
Theostre raised the decayed remains of a eyebrow and Sly took that as enough to continue. "Without getting into details, would you say your plans involve us living long happy lives?" His eyebrow rose further at this though he remained still otherwise. "More of a horrible murder in this dark crypt from which we may never emerge? Okay, and Twilight," she turned to face the startled librarian, "if you had to make a prediction of where Bony here is going to be in a week, would 'back in civilization as a productive member of society' be at the top of your list? No?"
As they both stared at her, their incredulous expressions threatening to turn hostile at she stumbled on to her conclusion as quickly as she could to try to hide the quaver in her voice. "All our other meetings here have ended in violence and death, but before this one goes south too, think for a minute;" she turned to look Theostre in what remained of his eyes "Do you have any idea what's going on in the outside? Any idea if monsters or armies are running amuck all around? Who or what they may be loyal to?" As his eyes narrowed she asked frankly "Are you in such a hurry even after all this time that you would turn up your nose at the best source of information you've had in hundreds of years?"
Twilight interjected "But he-"
Sly held up a hoof to silence the librarian. "And do you want to risk starting a fight with the first pony who could tell us what in tartarus happened down here?! How many other ponies do you know that lived hundreds of years ago and are willing to talk about it?" Twilight seemed to be thinking about this as Sly stepped out from between the two of them to address them both. "So what do you say we not talk about our righteous or evil plans, hold off on the murdering for a few hours, and just talk?"
((I would love to read what happens after this
))
Theostre said they sacrificed the last dragonborn for a thousand years of peace.
Theostre says his sister interred him there.
Celestia is convinced Luna will return as the dragonborn.
Probable: Luna was the last dragonborn, and was sacrificed (to the nightmare?) for a thousand years of peace.
Possible: Theostre et al are Celestia & Luna's brothers, and Celestia cursed them in her rage after Luna's sacrifice.
Tenuous: The Wind's Eye is related to (or part of, or the same as?) the elements of harmony. Twi and Sly have at various times embodied all six elements, which will allow them to use the eye and/or restore Luna.