//------------------------------// // Present Day: Snowball // Story: The Pony, the Sphinx, and the Immortal // by HapHazred //------------------------------// Night had fallen outside the caverns the dig team had set up in, and everypony was spending the evening relaxing. Well, almost everypony. Twilight kept a wary eye on her thaumometer, hawkishly watching for any anomaly that she ought to take note of. Zerephonzidas was similarly absent from the crowd of ponies. Food was simple, but warm. Rarity initially turned her nose up at it, but eventually hunger got the better of her, and she was now eating heartily, albeit far more daintily than most other ponies. “And that’s a wrap,” Rainbow said, putting all the cards together and shuffling. “That’s two points for me, none for AJ, thirteen for Twilight, and nine for Rares’.” Rarity scowled. “I still don’t understand why the goal is to get as few points as possible,” she said. “Surely more is better.” “It’s Hearts. Those are the rules,” Rainbow said. She looked over at Twilight. “I can’t help but notice you’re only nine points away from one-hundred, Twi’. I thought you’d be better at counting than me.” Twilight took a second to look away from her thaumometer. “Hmm?” she asked. Rainbow groaned. “Jeez, are you even paying attention?” Twilight shook her head. “Um, did I lose?” “Not yet,” Applejack said, “But you’re probably gonna.” Twilight’s eyes began to drift back towards the thaumometer. It quickly disappeared in a flash of blue. “Nuh-uh,” Rainbow said, waving the thaumometer tantalisingly. “It’s late, and there are rules about working on stupid stuff too late.” Twilight frowned. “It’s not stupid!” she said. “What even is this?” “It measures magic,” Twilight said. “You wouldn’t understand.” Rainbow shrugged. “Nope. You want it back?” “Yes.” “I’ll give it back, only if you promise to actually give it a rest tomorrow,” Rainbow said. “You’re obviously not gonna stop tonight, but you need to actually take a break from time to time, yeah?” Twilight narrowed her eyes. Neither Applejack or Rarity got involved in the standoff, although by Rarity’s expression, she was siding with Rainbow. “Fine,” Twilight said. “Oh, and you need to get a new player to fill in for you,” Rainbow added. “If you’re not gonna play, that is.” “I’ll play,” came Digger Douglas’s voice. “I think I get the rules.” Rainbow lazily tossed the thaumometer back to Twilight. “Here. Go do science.” Twilight sighed and got to her hooves, letting Douglas take her spot. “Don’t stay up too late,” Rarity said. Twilight nodded. “I won’t,” she said, and moved away from the group. Digger Douglas smiled. “So, uh, she takes her magic a bit seriously then?” Rarity nodded. “Well, we all have our hobbies, don’t we?” “Fair enough. I have a snail collection at home.” “No kidding,” Rainbow said, dealing the cards. “I have a tortoise. He’s called Tank.” Douglas seemed to become more alive as the discussion went on. “My snails are called Hector, Archimedes, Versailles, and…” “Who’s got the two of clubs?” Applejack asked. “Wait a minute, I haven’t sorted my cards out yet…” Rarity muttered. “There. I have it.” “There’s something I just like about snails.” Now alone in the dimly lit caverns, Twilight sat down to take a proper look at her thaumometer. She felt bad about deserting the card game, but she had to admit she felt relief at being able to concentrate. Zerephonzidas was right: there were magical spikes all around the cavern. Supposedly the sphinx had his own theories regarding why that was. All Twilight could tell with absolute certainty was that whatever they were looking for was powerful. By comparison, Twilight had read up on the large rings in the temple they had visited with Daring Do, which were powerful enough to seriously mess up the surrounding weather, and they wouldn’t have even come close to this level of magical disturbance. Perhaps, Twilight wondered, it wasn’t because the magic she was used to was weaker per se, but simply that the magic here was more chaotic. Like dropping an irregular object into a pool of water, it disturbed the pool far more than a smooth object. The spell Zerephonzidas wanted to learn about might not be the kind of magic that could be controlled. Such magic wasn’t rare, exactly. The world of Equestria was filled with unstable magic. Storms not even a team of highly experienced unicorns could command. Twilight examined the thaumometer. It wasn’t even as if the device was spiking erratically. It was more like it was always erratic, making conventional measurements unusable. Twilight wondered if Zerephonzidas had thought of finding a different way to measure the magic around them. Sphinxes saw magic differently to ponies. This was something that the books she had read had been very clear on. If that was the case, and Twilight was convinced it was, then sitting around this cave must be like relaxing in a sandstorm. Constantly pelleted with disorienting splinters of magic in a maelstrom of madness. Perhaps there was a way of clearing the sand out of his eyes, so to speak. It certainly would be helpful to have a sphinx’s eyes when they finally started excavating parts of the experiment. There were ways of creating a sort of magical well, Twilight thought as she moved up the caverns towards the entrance. The chill from outside crept into her bones. A well was what it sounded like. A way for magic to amass and condense in the same way water formed puddles by flowing downhill. Twilight stepped outside, and immediately regretted it. The cold and snow assaulted her like a battering ram. She began to shiver. It would be better to get this over and done with as quickly as possible. She quickly scooped up a large hoofful of snow. Her horn began to flicker to life. She was worried this was going to be a rather crude example of the spell she wanted. She closed her eyes, and with a flash of magic, she cast her spell. Good, she thought. Time to go back inside. Still shivering, she trotted down the caverns, down into the deepest corner of the dig. She passed the sounds of her friends starting to play dominoes instead of cards, laughing all the while. Just as the cold in her body subsided, she reached Zerephonzidas. His right eye was closed, but the left one still stared into nothingness. She tiptoed towards his desk, and put the snowball she had made earlier there. She turned to leave. Wait, no, she thought. If he woke up and found a snowball on his table, he’d wonder why it’d be there. Twilight went back to the desk and rummaged around for a pen and paper. A pen was easy to find: Zerephonzidas kept one handy at all times. Paper was more difficult. There were huge piles of paper, each covered in scribbles, symbols Twilight didn’t recognise, and sketches. It was the sketches that drew her attention the most, although a part of her wished she could spend more time to translate the symbols. A snore escaped Zerephonzidas, causing Twilight to jump. After Zerephonzidas continued to sleep, she relaxed. She didn’t want to wake the huge creature up. Not only because it was polite, but because she was worried if he might accidentally step on her if he was startled. Even unintentionally, those claws could rend right through Twilight’s bones and do permanent, even lethal damage. The sketches continued to catch Twilight’s eye. They looked almost abstract, just dark lines on white paper. All were of the same thing. A dark, somber column that would often take up half the page, with indistinct shapes in the center. The shapes inside could represent anything. Magic, a pony, sunlight, a chocolate croissant… Twilight couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it was important. Zerephonzidas had drawn the exact same thing over a dozen times, each with varying degrees of detail. Twilight looked back at Zerephonzidas. Even though his blank, open eye was disturbing, he was very definitely asleep. Must be the cat in him, Twilight thought. The alicorn pulled out a few of the papers covered in symbols. Twilight wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about languages, but she could recognise over thirty different ancient dialects of equestrian. This, however, rang no bells. They didn’t even look like letters. If they were equestrian, they must date back over four thousand years. Further, even. Could these be the original equestrian? If that was the assumption to go on, then Twilight might be able to look for recurring sounds that remained popular across all forms of the language. Slowly decode the text… Zerephonzidas snorted. Twilight held her breath. She couldn’t imagine the sphinx would be happy she was going through his notes. She shouldn’t overstay her welcome. Discarding the ancient text, she found a blank piece of paper and wrote ‘keep snowball with you: will absorb magic’ on it. After a moment’s thought, she added ‘if it turns to ice, apply more snow’. Then she carefully put the papers away, and moved back up the cavern towards her friends. “I’m out!” Rarity exclaimed. “Hurrah!” Rainbow scowled, and held up her last remaining domino. “Well, shoot,” she muttered. “So close, yet so far.” “That puts you in the lead, Rares’,” Applejack said. “Quite a turnaround from cards.” Digger Douglas looked up at Twilight, who re-entered the small section of cavern. “Hello again,” he said. Twilight smiled briefly, then went into her tent. “I’m going to call it a night,” she said. “I’ll see everypony tomorrow.” “And everysphinx, right?” Rainbow quipped. “I think I’m almost getting used to him,” Rarity said. “Although I do worry about those teeth sometimes.” “Weird, considering you hang out with a dragon every day back in Ponyville,” Rainbow said. “You do know Spike can bite through crystal?” Rarity rolled her eyes. “Well, yes, but that’s completely different. He’s not quite as… ah…” “Threatening?” Applejack suggested. “I was going to say big,” Rarity replied. “And muscular.” Twilight popped her head out of the tent. “Um, you might want to abort that line of thinking,” she said. “Sphinxes, um, don’t.” Rarity spluttered. “I never said anything of the sort.” “What do you mean, they ‘don’t’?” Douglas asked. “Just that. Sphinxes… don’t. They exist, they die, they stop existing. They don’t make more sphinxes,” Twilight explained. “There can only ever be less sphinx, never more. Technically speaking, he’s not even really a ‘he’. Just a sphinx.” Rarity folded her hooves. “Well, I still didn’t say anything of the sort. And I’m not wrong, either.” “To be fair, he is pretty big,” Applejack said. “I ain’t sure he’d fit in the farm without bumpin’ his head on the ceiling.” Twilight returned to the inside of her tent. “Well, uh, just wanted to clear that up,” she said. “Good night.” Rainbow stared at the dominoes for a moment. “Sphinxes are weird,” she muttered. “Um, so, another round?” “Sure,” Applejack said. She turned to Douglas. “Say, how close are you to the actual interesting bits?” she asked. Douglas shrugged. “Dunno, to be honest. We’re relying on Zerephonzidas’s notes and diagrams, and I dunno where he gets those from. He’s been researching this for much longer than most of us have been alive.” “All of us, in fact,” Rarity pointed out. “I overheard him talking with Twilight.” Rarity frowned. “Wait, am I supposed to say ‘he’ or ‘it’?” “Just stick with ‘he’ until he calls you out on it,” Rainbow said. “It’s pretty scary to think that he’s been looking for a cave for thousands of years.” “Weirder than snails?” Applejack said teasingly, eyeing Digger Douglas. The digger pursed his lips. “Don’t make fun of my snails,” he said. “I like ‘em.” “Somepony has to.” “Come on, get your dominoes already,” Rainbow said. “I’m waiting.” Twilight’s eyes closed. The sleeping bag inside the tent kept her warm, but it was still less comfortable than her feather bed back in Ponyville. You could only make a cave so homely, no matter how hard Rarity tried. She thought about the dark column Zerephonzidas had been drawing. The ink hadn’t been able to convey colour, but for some reason Twilight pictured it as dark green, like the rocks around. But blacker, somehow. Like if green was black, but still recognizably green. As sleep began to grab ahold of her, she could see the column clearly in her minds eye. It would be tall, imposing. Like it had no end to it, yet was confined within physical space. Her thoughts drifted back to whatever Zerephonzidas had been drawing inside the column. Given the vague nature of the drawings, Twilight wasn’t entirely certain even he knew what it was. Just that it was a shape. Amorphous and mysterious. Twilight tried to picture what it might be. She tried picturing it as a spell, a tangled mess of magic. It didn’t fit. She tried picturing it as an ancient artifact or relic. That didn’t work either. What was it, Twilight wondered? Was this some phenomenon Zerephonzidas had witnessed over his many, many years of life? Or was it just a dream? Perhaps it was linked to whatever they were uncovering right now. Twilight suspected this to be the case. After all, if something was worth drawing a dozen times, it might be linked to a similar obsession. An obsession that might have lasted five thousand years. Twilight rolled onto her side. She felt the magic in this place prickle her skin under her coat. It was like a bed of needles. She rolled onto her other side, trying to ease the momentary discomfort. Sleeping had been easier when she hadn’t been as painfully aware of the magical phenomenon in this place. Magic had a tendency to affect those more knowledgeable about it, and Twilight was very knowledgeable indeed. She opened her eyes. She unzipped the tent, and poked her head out again. “Hey, Rainbow, can I borrow one of your Daring Do books?” she asked.