//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: The Mystery of the Cipactli Glyph // by Kwakerjak //------------------------------// A.K.’s mind was still reeling as she stared at the landscape rushing beneath Celestia’s personal chariot. When she’d left for Canterlot, she’d assumed that the best-case scenario involved the Princess taking her idea seriously enough to have somepony else look into it. She wouldn’t have dared to consider the possibility that Celestia would become personally involved in the matter, and she definitely hadn’t expected the Princess to order her to come along to provide personal assistance. Well... perhaps “order” was too strong a word. After A.K. got over the initial shock, Celestia did eventually rephrase her desire to have the pegasus accompany her as a request... but you didn’t simply turn down a royal request just because you found it inconvenient. You needed a reason. Celestia, however, had managed to counter everything A.K. could come up with. When A.K. brought up her courses at the University of Baltimare, Celestia replied that she could use her personal connections in the administration to make sure she was accommodated. When A.K. noted that she had to keep working at her job to cover her expenses, Celestia immediately offered to pay her for her time (which was just as well, considering A.K. didn’t actually have a job at the moment). And when A.K. implied that she didn’t want other ponies talking about her when she returned to Vanhoover, Celestia suggested that she could avoid the limelight by using “Daring Do” as a pseudonym. At that point, A.K. finally bowed to the inevitable, and within a few hours, she was sitting next to Celestia as the pair whisked their way towards her hometown. A.K. turned her attention away from the ground just in time to watch Celestia push the sun beneath one horizon and drag the moon out from behind the other. Of course, A.K. had seen hundreds of sunsets before, and more than a few while above the clouds, but for some reason, there seemed to be something different about this particular dusk. Maybe it was the fact that she wasn’t distracted by the flapping of her own wings, or maybe it was the serene expression of the pony who’d actually done the work, but this time, everything seemed ineffably perfect. “That was... beautiful,” she said, wanting to kick herself for not being able to come up with a less clichéd word. Celestia smiled at the compliment nonetheless. “Thank you. I do have a habit of showing off when I know somepony is watching me,” she replied playfully. A.K. let out a short, nervous laugh. It felt weird to be speaking so informally with a princess, but Celestia had made it clear that she didn’t want A.K. to bother with all the “Your Majesty” stuff while they were working together—and A.K. was pretty sure that meant that Celestia was treating her as an equal, or at least somepony close enough to her status to make formality irrelevant, assuming she hadn’t mixed up the details of her foalhood civics lessons. “Um, can I ask you something?” “You certainly may.” “Well, not that I’m ungrateful for the chance to work with you, but do you really need my help? I mean, you’re the smartest pony in Equestria, right?” Celestia chuckled. “General intelligence and specific knowledge are hardly the same thing. If I am to face off with a monster from ancient times, it makes sense to get assistance from somepony with more knowledge of the era.” “But you were alive one thousand years ago. I mean, yeah, I know that the cipactli is older than that, but surely that kind of thing was in your history lessons, right?” Celestia let out a sigh. “I didn’t exactly have much time for history during my formal education. The idea was advisors could fill me in if it ever became truly necessary.” “Oh, I guess that would make sense. Still, you’ve had time to learn just about everything there is to know, right?” “And I’ve had more than enough time to forget most of it. Besides, my duties as Equestria’s Princess mean that I need to focus my attention on the present and the future. Dwelling on the past... well, it’s a luxury I can’t afford.” Celestia trailed off for several seconds, giving A.K. the distinct impression that she had started to dwell on something from her past. However, the moment was brief, and soon Celestia returned her focus to the conversation. “In any case, I am quite sure that you have spent more time studying the pre-unification era than I have.” “Yeah, but why not somepony who’s already completed her degree?” Celestia didn’t respond right away; she merely raised an eyebrow and gave a slight smirk. “You don’t seem particularly thrilled about working with me,” she said, noting with some satisfaction the mildly embarrassed expression that appeared on her companion’s face. “Now, with most ponies, I’d assume that has something to do with a fear of failure, but you actually strike me a fairly confident mare. So, would you mind explaining why you’re trying to get me to second-guess my own judgment?” A.K. sighed. Now that she’d been put on the spot, her thoughts seemed much more difficult to put into words. “Well, I... I just prefer to work on my own,” she finally said. “I don’t handle collaboration very well.” “Yet you were close enough to Curiosity to bring this matter to my attention.” “Curiosity was never dumb enough to try to do anything constructive with me. As foals, we spent our time together hanging out and talking about stuff that doesn’t matter, like hoofball or movies. Anything that required any sort of sustained cooperation on my part got vetoed immediately.” “So why didn’t you refuse to help me?” Celestia asked. “Because you’re Princess Celestia.” “I see,” Celestia replied. “I suppose that could make the situation awkward.” “So... does this mean you’ve changed your mind?” “Oh, goodness, no. I still need an expert, and if, as you say, this cipactli is a relatively obscure creature, you’ve probably done more research on it than most professional archeologists, and besides that, you grew up in Vanhoover. You are most definitely the most qualified pony available. In any case, we seem to have arrived.” ——————— A.K. had hoped that she and Celestia would set to work as soon as they arrived, but this proved to be almost naively optimistic. Celestia was the princess, after all, and Vanhoover was one of the largest cities in her realm. No matter how spur-of-the-moment her decision to visit was, it was only natural that the locals would have some sort of welcoming party. She had to meet and greet local officials, listen to their concerns, and give some sort of explanation about what she was doing there, and that was before spending time mingling with her more common subjects, many of whom were not about to let something as minor as potential abduction keep them from glimpsing their sovereign. Celestia had suggested that A.K. take the opportunity to catch up with her family, since she was back in her hometown, and A.K. had followed that suggestion, albeit somewhat reluctantly. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her parents—it was just that her interests were so different from theirs that she struggled to maintain any sort of conversation with them. That being said, the evening went reasonably well. Her mother was overjoyed at her surprise visit and immediately set about making far too much for dinner. Her father, on the other hoof, took a bit more time to warm up, largely because he wanted to know why she wasn’t attending her classes in Baltimare. When A.K. responded with the truth, he was rather hesitant to accept it, largely because she was still being called “Daring Do” in all the press releases thanks to bureaucratic inertia back in Canterlot, which meant that her own name was nowhere to be found in the evening paper. Still, everything was more or less enjoyable, though as usual, A.K. had to deal with the awkwardness of not sounding condescending whenever one of her parents asked simplistic follow-up questions. “So, this chipotle thing, is it dangerous?” her mother asked, her eyes and ears focused on her daughter’s response. Daring did her best to ignore the mangling of “cipactli” but refused to look up from her plate. “It might be, Mom, but I don’t know yet.” “Well,” her Dad started slowly, “why would Celestia come here if it wasn’t?” “Because if it is dangerous, it might be really dangerous.” Her parents shared a glance. “But now that they know what’s causing all these disappearances, they’re going to stop it, right?” “No, Dad, they don’t know what’s causing all the incidents, but there’s a chance it might be a cipactli.” “But there’s a plan for what to do if it is a chipotle, right?” Her mother nibbled her lower lip. “Not really, we don’t know enough about these creatures, assuming that they even exist.” “Well, what is this thing trying to do anyway?” her father asked, throwing his hooves up. “Nopony knows.” It seemed like half of A.K.’s conversations with her parents went like that, as if they couldn’t comprehend their brilliant daughter being uncertain about anything. A.K. just seemed to be more comfortable accepting the unknown than they were—she was fairly certain that that was the reason why her cutie mark was a compass, even though she’d never shown any interest in mapmaking or orienteering beyond the basics of getting from Point A to Point B. It was almost a relief when one of Celestia’s guards showed up to let her know that the investigation would begin the next morning; besides confirming her claim that she really was working with Celestia, it gave her an excuse to go to bed. ——————— The next morning, A.K. met up with the princess at the Vanhoover Historical Society to begin the investigation... sort of. After spending about a half-hour reviewing the known facts of the case with the RIB, the two of them split up to examine their respective areas of expertise: A.K. started researching the glyph, while Celestia, being an ostensible expert on her own collection of jewelry, took a look at what had been stolen or left behind to see if there was something that had eluded law enforcement. In reality, Celestia was obliging A.K.’s preference for solitude by drawing as much attention away from her as possible—indeed, her personal collection of jewelry was so large that she didn’t recognize half of the pieces that were on display. That said, Celestia’s recall of jewelry with magical effects was excellent, and after a half-hour of perusal, she was quite confident that none of the gems that had been stolen had any effect besides making the wearer look pretty, or in the case of a particularly gaudy heart-shaped amethyst pendant set in platinum and surrounded with rubies and sapphires, making the wearer look like a wealthy idiot with no fashion sense. After making a silent vow to never again purchase jewels while intoxicated, Celestia returned to her expert to find out how the real investigation was going. After briefly perusing the crime scene for anything that might have been missed, A.K. had withdrawn to the museum’s reading room to look at the artifact’s documentation. Like most of the stone carvings on permanent display at the museum, it had been discovered by an amateur deep in the Northwestern forest, at a site called Catavi Temple, even though there was no reason to assume the site had any ritual significance (besides the fact that archeologists always assumed that sites had ritual significance when their purpose wasn’t obvious, that is). A few of the other glyphs were isolated discoveries, but had been included with the main collection because the images were clearly in a similar artistic style. Most were of various monsters, though a few appeared to depict ponies in elaborate garb—presumably priests or rulers from the long-lost civilization that had created them. Celestia nodded as she listened to this background information. “I see... I shall have to summarize that for my commonplace book.” “Your what?” A.K. asked, confused. “It’s sort of like a diary, except instead of writing down all of my thoughts and feelings, I jot down the facts I’ve learned, as well as my initial analyses of those facts when relevant. It’s admittedly old-fashioned, but it works.” “I don’t understand.” “When I told you that I’d been alive long enough to forget everything I’ve learned, I wasn’t joking. My memory is no different from any other pony’s, and any information I don’t regularly use will eventually be forgotten. It took me two hundred years to accept that, and it caused me no end of problems until somepony came up with the idea of writing things down.” “But you must have hundreds of those books by now.” “Thousands, actually,” Celestia replied, “but I also have a Royal Indexer back in Canterlot whose sole job is to catalog all this information, so I can always check to see if I had learned about something in the past. That’s why I’m certain that you know more about the cipactli than I do.” “Hmm,” A.K. said, “this commonplace book thing sounds like a clever idea. Who thought of it?” Celestia sighed. “I forgot to write the pony’s name down. Assuming it was a pony, that is.” A.K. may not have been the most socially adept pony, but she was starting to get the definite sense that Celestia’s past was not a good conversation topic—partly because much of it was so distant that Celestia had trouble remembering it in the first place, but also because there seemed to be a lot of melancholy attached to whatever she could remember. She decided to try to get the discussion back on track. “Well, I’ve been looking over the field notes that came with the glyph,” she said, gesturing to the sheets of paper spread out on the desk before her, “but I haven’t noticed anything that might give more hints to the nature of a cipactli. But then, I haven’t really had the chance to really analyze all of the information. I, uh, was thinking that maybe I should stay here for a few hours while you start doing your usual monster hunting routine. I mean, you definitely have way more experience there.” “That is certainly a sensible idea,” Celestia replied. “Let us reconvene around midday. I shall leave one of my guards here so you can send for me if you uncover anything. Agreed?” A.K. grinned. “Yeah, that sounds good.” Celestia wore a smile of her own as she gracefully exited the museum. Were A.K. a typical pony, she would have assumed that her suggestion to stay was borne of little more than nervousness about facing a potentially dangerous creature, but this young archeologist was clearly far from ordinary. For whatever reason, despite the her extreme introversion, A.K. wasn’t setting off any of Celestia’s usual mentoring instincts. It was time to see what the mare could accomplish when left to her own devices. ——————— Of course, that didn’t mean that Celestia was simply going to do nothing while her counterpart pored over documents. If some previously obscure creature was indeed posing a threat, there were several methods she could use for confirmation. In this case it seemed that the best way to find out if there was some new menace in the forest was simply to ask those who lived there. This caused a bit of confusion when Celestia explained herself to local officials, as they weren’t aware of any ponies living in the forest who had yet to be interviewed by the Vanhoover Police Department. “I’ve no doubt that you’ve done your due diligence with regard to the ponies who live here,” Celestia replied reassuringly, “but I was referring to the animals.” “Oh, right,” said the VPD’s chief. “Our investigation really didn’t get much farther than ruling out any known predators in the vicinity. I guess it didn’t occur to anypony that we might be dealing with an unknown one.” “There’s no shame in overlooking something that isn’t obvious,” Celestia observed, providing the unicorn with a means of saving face in the event of public grumbling. “Of course,” the chief replied as a glow from his horn surrounded a blank form on his desk. “I’ll send for some earth ponies to help with the translation.” “That won’t be necessary,” Celestia replied. “I can understand most animal languages myself.” “You can?” the police chief exclaimed before immediately attempting to mask his incredulity. Apparently, like many ponies, he had either forgotten or was unaware that Celestia was as much an earth pony as she was a unicorn and a pegasus—although theoretically, animal communication was a talent that any sufficiently sympathetic pony could pick up. “Uh, I mean, of course you can. Right. So, uh, do you need any assistance?” “No, I think my personal guard will be sufficient. I am very grateful for your offer, however.” It had been some time since Celestia had last had reason to converse with non-ungulates, so it took a while for her to get back in the groove once she arrived in the forest, but after a few hours, she’d managed to get the information she needed. Although none of the creatures had actually seen any newcomers to the forest (aside from the possible exception of an insomniac squirrel who thought he’d seen something lumbering through the undergrowth), nearly all of them had heard odd noises that definitely didn’t sound like any of the noises that the nice ponies made while visiting. In short, there was something odd going on deep in the forest, though its precise nature remained to be seen. Celestia headed back to the museum to see what progress her young friend had made, but she was fairly certain it was time to move to the next stage in the investigation. ——————— A.K. groaned as she leaned back in her chair and massaged her temples. One would have thought that she’d have made some sort of progress in determining the function of the glyph, but at the moment, the insight that had served her so well on many an all-nighter for her classes had deserted her. Of course, she also knew that there was nothing ridiculous about her lack of success; after all, scholars had been puzzling over the glyphs in the Vanhoover Historical Society’s collection for decades with little to show for it, while she had only been studying them closely for a few hours. Perhaps what was truly maddening, though, wasn’t the lack of answers, but rather the fact that her instincts had yet to tell her that she was on a dead end. Instead of moving towards a conclusion, her brain kept idling, like a train waiting in a station, and she had no idea why. Oh, who are you kidding? I know exactly why I’m having trouble, she thought to herself. It’s because I want this cipactli business to be a dead end. It wasn’t that A.K. was particularly afraid of having to deal with a toothy, ravenous reptilian of unknown strength; after all, she was currently working with a pony with enough magical power to raise the sun, and if force was needed, Celestia would probably just tell her to get far enough away to avoid collateral damage. No, the real reason A.K. was hoping that her investigation came to nothing was Curiosity. After all, if the cipactli was real, she’d probably never see him again. As if that’s a good reason to avoid thinking about it, she chided herself. A.K. decided to get up and walk around the museum for a bit, thinking that perhaps moving around might stimulate her mind. She glanced over the rest of the pre-unification exhibit, which included not only glyphs and spears from the ancient civilizations that lived in the area, but also more recent relics of the days of Puddinghead, Platinum, and Hurricane. She strolled out of the permanent exhibit to take a look at Celestia’s jewelry collection, ostensibly to see if any of them had something in common with the glyph (they didn’t), but mostly because she was curious about how much Celestia’s fashion sense had actually changed, given that she had yet to see the princess wearing anything more complicated than a tiara and peytral. It seemed that Celestia’s taste in ornamentation had changed considerably over the years, though A.K. could hardly follow the fluctuations in style, especially since the burglars had left large chronological gaps behind after their break-in. One piece that remained, however, was particularly intriguing: a dark blue stone carved in the shape of a crescent. For some reason, it felt out of place. Curious, A.K. glanced at the description by the case. Apparently, she was not the first pony to find this pendant interesting. “This piece is normally kept in a small alcove in the Royal Vaults, separate from the main collection. Her Majesty permitted its inclusion in the exhibit on the condition that she not have to provide information on its origins. Thus, we can not say for certain when Celestia acquired the piece, nor can we determine the meaning of the letter “L” engraved on the reverse, though presumably it is the mark of the manufacturer....” A.K. eyes widened as inspiration hit her. You idiot! You got so wrapped up in the symbolism of the images that you forgot to consider the glyphs as discrete objects! Why on earth didn’t you think to turn them around?! Of course, she had given the reverse sides of the glyphs cursory examinations, but because they hadn’t shown any pictograms, she’d returned her focus to the obverses. It took all her self-control to keep from galloping back to the reading room in her excitement. It didn’t take very long before she spotted the patterns. When looked at in isolation, one could easily assume that the lines carved on the backs of the glyphs were there to provide a greater surface area for some sort of adhesive, but when compared one to another, it soon became clear that each one was distinct, even though some looked quite similar, much like cutie marks. The obvious care with which these unique grooves had been etched suggested that they held a purpose beyond mere structural ornamentation. A closer look at the edges of the glyphs revealed a several raised ridges along the sides of the glyphs, and unlike the reverses, these were relatively uniform... and most of them showed signs of wear. These glyphs had been made to slide in and out of something, but what could it be? And did it have anything to do with recent events? A.K. had absolutely no idea, of course, but her mind was racing faster than her hooves as she sent the guard that Celestia had left behind to find his princess. If they could identify what the glyphs were used for, they might have a hint as to what the motivation for the cipactli glyph’s theft was. That, in turn, might lead them to the thieves, and if they could be pumped for information... they might shed light on what really happened to Curiosity. The archaeologist was so wrapped up in her thoughts as she paced around the museum lobby that she nearly ran into Celestia... or rather, she nearly ran into the end of one of the Royal Guard’s spears. “Oh, um, sorry,” A.K. said, brushing off her near-skewering by an antsy bodyguard. “We need to talk.” Celestia nodded. “Indeed. I think we should go into the woods,” she said, “though I am not sure where to start.” A.K. smiled and pulled out a page of her notes. “Lucky for you, I know exactly where to start.”