//------------------------------// // 1. The Gatekeeper // Story: Expedition // by Race Horse //------------------------------// Sand beat against the rugged khaki tents resting in the dune-filled valley of a towering, shattered mountain range. The jagged, red-banded cliffs about them failed to still the biting wind, which bore upon it yet another sandstorm. Inside the largest tent, a lavender unicorn studied a map spread across a large folding table, trying desperately to ignore the whining of the baby dragon lounging in his basket by the entranceway. “I still don’t see why we have to run around some stupid desert,” he grumbled, eying the quivering entrance flap with apprehension, “What are we even looking for again?” Twilight sighed and closed her eyes, trying to count backwards in her head from ten. She knew for a fact that this was the seventy-eighth time he had asked that question since they had left Ponyville two weeks ago, and she was tired of answering it after the first. “I told you, Spike. We’re looking for the lost city of Petrot.” Spike punched his pillow grumpily, mumbling, “But why are we looking for a lost city? And how are we supposed to know where to go, if everypony calls it the ‘lost city’, anyway?” Twilight groaned, and reluctantly abandoned the map to rehash, yet again, the motivation for their trip. “Spike, pay attention this time. I’ve been given a grant by the Royal Academy of Arcane Arts and Sciences to survey the Badlands looking for any cultural artifacts related to the post-Classical era pre-Discordant Roanan Empi….” “In Equestrian, please,” interrupted Spike, much to Twilight’s frustration. “I organized a trip to look for ancient artifacts for the next three months, and the Academy’s paying for it.” A powerful gust of wind rippled the canvas of the tent, causing Spike to jump. From another tent outside, they heard a muffled shout and the sound of ripping canvas. Immediately, a point on the rough-sketched map of the camp resting on the table began to burn dark red. Trotting over to the paper, Twilight took note of the tent indicated, and her horn began to glow. Moments later they heard ponies shouting the all-clear. Spike gulped nervously. “Who’s tent was it this time?” “One of the aerial recon pegasi, Stormshear.” Spike sighed, releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “So,” he began, trying to sound nonchalant, “If this is some big Academy thing, why’d we bring Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash?” Twilight trotted back over to the large, regional map and turned up the lantern. “Fluttershy is here to be our animal expert in case we run into any nasty desert creatures like scorpions and poisonous lizards. Rainbow Dash wanted to come because she thought that ‘it’ll be cool’.” “And they really let Rainbow Dash come just because of that?” asked the purple dragon skeptically. “Well,” admitted Twilight, her face scrunched up in an embarrassed grin, “I maybe sort of wrote her in as our security chief. Once. In triplicate. On each of five requisition forms. So she might possibly be drawing a paycheck for coming along. “Why couldn’t we bring Rarity then?” sulked the baby dragon. “She had to fill an order for an important client,” droned Twilight in an exasperated tone of voice, “And before you ask, Applejack had farm work and Pinkie Pie has to work for the Cakes to fill a couple of big wedding orders over the spring.” Her assistant snorted in annoyance, and settled down to sulk some more. Twilight had just gotten into her cartography when Spike’s voice again broke her concentration. “So how are we gonna find a ‘lost city’ anyway?” he asked, causing Twilight to drop her compass and groan. “That’s why we brought along the Saddle Arabian guides,” she forced through her gritted teeth, “They used to travel through the Badlands, to trade with Equestria to the north. If anypony will know how to help us, they will.” Not picking up on Twilight’s building frustration, or just not caring, Spike opened his mouth to ask yet another question. A burp came out instead, and a moment later the expected belch of green flame and sparks heralded a letter from the Princess. Startled, Twilight dropped her navigation tools and hurried over to retrieve the scroll. Instead of a letter’s soft fwap, however, she heard the heavy thump of a book hitting the canvas floor. As Spike groaned and massaged his aching stomach, the lavender unicorn levitated the heavy tome towards herself, confusion contorting her features. She returned to her table, flipping the book open to the first page. The wind outside picked up then, and behind the roar a low, wailing moan began to rise in volume. Spike shivered in his blankets, trying to hide his discomfort. “W…What’s that w…weird noise?” he stammered, as Twilight returned to the musty old tome she had just recieved. “That’s the wind whistling through the valley,” said Twilight distractedly, her horn glowing as pages flipped before her narrowed eyes, “There’s nothing unusual about it.” --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- Not for the first time, Rainbow Dash found herself trapped in the claustrophobic canvas walls of her tent, trying to coax a shivering yellow pegasus out from under her cot. “Come on, Fluttershy!” she whined, “I’ve gotta nap now! I can’t be stuck in this boring tent all day awake! I’ll go nuts!” A squeaky, muffled whisper issued from the quivering lump beneath Rainbow’s cot. “W…What about that s…sound? Wh…What if it’s a m…monster?” The storm picked up in intensity, prompting Fluttershy to scoot herself even closer towards the canvas wall. Rainbow groaned and held her head in her hoof. “It’s just the wind! Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to deal with monsters and stuff like that anyway?” she all but shouted, “You’re the animal pony!” A yellow snout poked out from under the cot. “Yes, but that’s only if we meet any hares or scorpions or lizards or coyotes or buzzards. But what if it’s a coatl? Or dune devils?” She gasped, and her nose disappeared again beneath her makeshift shelter. “Or Windigos!” Dash stamped her hoof on the rug-covered canvas and snorted. “Seriously, chillax, Fluttershy! It’s just the storm! Come on, get out from under my bed!” When it became apparent that she would not, however, Dash lost her patience. In a flash of prismatic colors, she had lifted the collapsible cot off Fluttershy, deposited it at the opposite end of the tent, and dived into it. Before the shivering pegasus could react to her sudden exposure, Dash was feigning loud, thoroughly unconvincing snores. Whimpering, Fluttershy retreated to her own bed and hugged her stuffed bunny tightly to her chest. Twilight had advised her not to bring Angel Bunny, because of the extreme temperatures they would be facing in the southern deserts and the danger wild animals would pose to the free-spirited rabbit. It had made sense in her nice, cozy living room, but with the sandstorm picking up around them she couldn’t help feel that her stuffed animal was a poor substitute for her furry friend. The walls rippled and danced. The bare, undecorated tent around them was filled to the ceiling on one side with bags of various feeds and herbs, antidotes for poisonous insects and snakes, scented potions designed to attract or repel various creatures, and crates of supplies Fluttershy hadn’t asked for but which Twilight had overzealously ordered anyway. Dash’s snores gradually softened, becoming the authentic sounds of deepening sleep. “Um, excuse me, Rainbow Dash?” Dash started with a loud snort, blinking and turning around in confusion. “Huwha?” “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” the shy pegasus blustered, “Um, if you’d rather just sleep, I guess I can ask my question later, when you’ve, um, gotten up, unless…” Dash fluttered her wings and sat upright on her cot, her face set in a grumpy frown. “No way, I wanna know what’s up so I can catch some z’s in peace. What’s up?” “Oh, um,” she began, only to quail under the impatient glare in her friend’s pink eyes, “I was just wondering why you wanted to come with us. That is, if you don’t mind me asking. Not that you helping everypony when we get caught in sandstorms isn’t really nice of you, but, um…” She trialed off. Her friend looked at her incredulously. “What do you mean?” balked the brash blue stunt flier, “For the adventure, duh!” She suddenly shot out of the bed, zipping around the tent like a terrified firefly. “I can see it now! There we’ll all be, in some lost temple, facing a bunch of crazy traps and monsters and stuff. And right when we get to the awesome treasure room, we’ll get jumped by crazy desert cult ponies! And I’ll be all like, ‘Not today, Ahuizotl!’ and I’ll buck the bad guys in the face while I get the ancient statue at the same time and I’ll be just like Daring Do!” “But, um, Twilight said it would be very nice and orderly,” said Fluttershy, hidden behind her wings in case of one of her friends (semi-frequent) accidental collisions. “She told me we’d mostly be helping with paperwork. I just, I didn’t think you’d like that, is all.” Her words seemed to sap the energy from the bouncing rainbow blur. She landed on her cot again. “Ugh, don’t remind me,” she said, flopping down onto her back, “Even flying out into the storm is starting to get boring, and that’s the least boring thing about this whole boring trip so far! Everypony’s just going so slow!” Fluttershy cleared her throat as she emerged from her feathery cocoon. “I’m sorry, but.. um.. Well, I think we’re going as fast as the supply wagons can go,” she said soothingly, “Twilight’s even telling the drivers to go a bit faster than they wanted to at first.” The haunting moan of the wind through the mountains began as they spoke, prompting another shiver from the cowardly pony. Rainbow rolled jerkily to her side, clearly agitated. “Great. Just great. At least the ruins have got to be cool. Ancient ruins always have cool stuff and hidden treasure and traps and junk, they’ve gotta be way more awesome than this.” --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- The sandstorm proved to be short-lived, much to everypony’s relieved surprise. Once the tents were stowed and the wagons repacked, they set off again across the burning sands. Twilight kept her map hovering nearby, occasionally calling directions back to the rest of the caravan as they weaved their ponderous way through the gaps in the eroded mountains. The sun had already been sinking towards the horizon when the storm concluded, and by the time they got genuinely moving, it had begun to turn the sky around it orange. The occasional rainbow contrail marked Twilight’s ‘security chief’ as she circled the carts lazily, throwing in the occasional loop-the-loop or barrel roll to stave off boredom. Twilight knew that further off, at regular intervals around the caravan, teams of recon pegasi were scanning the horizons for signs of pony-made structures. Twilight was about to call a halt for the night when a recon team came from flying back from ahead of the group. “Third Recon Squad reporting,” called their leader, stopping her ponies the proscribed distance from them. “Passphrase?” challenged Twilight, her horn glowing menacingly. When she heard them reply, “Harmonia Intis,” she dropped her spell and beckoned them over hurriedly. “We’ve located a single occupied structure at the mouth of a small pass in the mountains,” reported the squad leader, Captain Frostwing, as they landed in front of Twilight, who had signaled the others to begin establishing camp, “We might have missed the pass entirely if it weren’t for the light from that building.” Twilight stared blankly at the steel-blue pegasus, only dimly aware of Rainbow Dash alighting beside her. “Occupied?” she repeated, “But there isn’t anypony living in the Badlands! At least, I haven’t read about any ponies out here. Are you sure it wasn’t a changeling?” Frostwing shook her head. “He looked like a skinny, older stallion from a distance, and he was poking around a little patch of farm. I don’t think he’d spotted us, so unless he just likes looking like that, I doubt he’s a changeling.” Curiosity sparked to life within her, and slowly a smile began to form on her face. They were scores of miles from the rocky pass through the Macintosh Hills back to Equestria, and without supplies, nopony could reach this far into the arid, crumbling landscape to build a hut and start farming. This had to be a native, the first ever contacted native pony of the Badlands! Moreover, this could possibly be a chance to ask for directions! Practically dancing with excitement at the prospect of making diplomatic history, Twilight began hurriedly organizing a party to meet the mysterious stranger. Twenty minutes later, she, Spike, and Frostwing’s squad crested a dune and spied the farm, a low adobe hut with a single glowing window resting at the foot of a massive, banded cliff. The entire scene glowed rust red in the setting sunlight. As they drew nearer, they could see that the hut was near to a narrow crack in the imposing mountain of rock. Frostwing signaled to her squad to establish a perimeter around the hut, both to avoid scaring the stranger and to protect against the omnipresent threat of changelings. Near enough now to get a good look at the farm’s crops, Twilight winced when she saw the plants, withered and yellow, and the dust-caked water pump standing beside the ragged cloth doorway. Knocking softly upon the wall (and nevertheless drawing a small chunk away with her hoof), the lavender unicorn heard a call and ducked into the shelter. Immediately her nose was assaulted by an unfamiliar and vaguely unsettling scent, like hot peppers and copper. Squinting through the gloom, she could make out a glowing fireplace and woven rugs made of the coarse desert grass that sprouted occasionally through the cracked terrain. Stirring a large, bubbling pot on the fire was a stooped, weathered old earth pony. A tattered robe hung from his lanky grey-coated frame, and when he turned to face them, a tangled mane and beard of a moldy green color swung briefly before his wide yellow eyes. “Um,” began Twilight, nervousness smothering her curiosity in the face of the wild-eyed stranger, “Hello?” The emaciated old pony continued to stare at Twilight and her friends, unthreatening but unresponsive. Twilight noticed a large chunk missing from the pony’s snout, and tried not to focus on it. “My name is Twilight Sparkle,” began Twilight again, enunciating each word with care in case the pony before her was simply deaf, “And these are my friends, Spike and Frostwing. We’ve come from Equestria, from the north.” More silence, more staring. Twilight was glancing nervously between her friends and the native pony, a forced smile stretching her face beneath her increasingly manic eyes. Seconds stretched into minutes. Then, in a sudden, rapid movement, the stranger pulled a long, curved blade of crude metal out of a chopping block near his hoof. They started, but he simply began to chop a few sad little roots into rough chunks on the stone table beside him. “Well, we’re obviously interrupting your dinner,” chuckled Twilight amiably, backing slowly towards the door and indicating for the others to do the same, “So sorry to bother you. We’ll just let ourselves out then…” But as Twilight backed towards the curtain, she heard his voice rasp out to her in thick, guttural Arabic. The stallion beckoned to them with his free hoof. “I dunno, Twilight,” said Spike from the unicorn’s back, eying the blade warily as the old pony finished his meager roots and set the knife down, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” While the Badlands pony was busy with his cooking, Frostwing left the tent, and a few minutes later returned with Ibn al-Fahoof, the Saddle Arabian guide assigned to her squad. After a few minutes of conversation with the old pony, al-Fahoof motioned them forward. “He says you may ask your questions, but quickly.” Twilight bit back a disappointed sigh. She was hoping for a lengthy interview with the stranger, an exchange of cultures. Perhaps on their way back… Settling down, Twilight first asked where the old pony had come from. He smiled a broken-toothed smile at them and gestured widely with his hoof, speaking very fast in his thick, guttural language. “Apparently there was a village here,” said al-Fahoof, “He says that there was a deep groundwater well keeping them alive for a very long time. But many years ago, the well began to dry up, and everypony left and headed into the desert.” When asked where they had gone, the old pony shook his head. “Why didn’t he leave with them?” Twilight asked. Even though she didn’t speak the language, something about the old stallion struck her as off, as though he were hiding something from them. Al-Fahoof frowned when his reply came, and did not respond when Twilight asked what was wrong. After a few minutes of back and forth dialogue with the native, the Arabian turned to the others. “His words are strange. Many are not known to me, others spoken oddly. I think he said, ‘I watch the gate.’” al-Fahoof told them, “But he does not tell me what that means.” The mention of a gate sent Twilight’s mind reeling. She recalled the book Celestia had sent her that morning; the city was supposed to have had a hidden gate guarded by ponies day and night. But after all these years, was it really possible that it was still manned? “See if he knows about any ruins near here,” she said breathlessly, “Ask if he knows where Petrot is.” But this was obviously the wrong thing to ask. No sooner had the question been translated than the old pony had leapt to his hooves and begun to gabble loudly at them. The curved knife had reappeared in the stallion’s hoof so quickly Twilight didn’t even see him reach for it; the jagged blade flashed as the enraged pony gesticulated wildly. Al-Fahoof was shouting, trying to calm the wild pony down, while Frostwing took a defensive position ahead of Twilight, signaling them to retreat back through the curtained doorway. She didn’t see the flash of the blade slicing through the air, but she didn’t need to; Frostwing screamed as the weapon pierced her, and Twilight found herself being squeezed through the crumbling doorway as the whole group fled from the dangerous madpony into the darkness of the nighttime desert. She saw blurred shadows rapidly approaching their retreating party, and knew that the rest of Frostwing’s soldiers had closed rank around them. Horn glowing, she focused through the din of shouting voices and pounding hooves, her magic counting each member of their party as it came upon them. Then, when sure she had them all, she cast her teleportation spell, sparing one final glance back at the damaged hut and the silhouette of the deranged stallion outlined in the glowing doorway. --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- They reappeared at the camp, and pandemonium immediately broke out. Barking orders and cradling her sliced wing, Frostwing stumped over to the medical tent and sat by its entrance. Medics and guards came at a gallop, and rushed her into the tent. Moments later, a frantic Fluttershy was examining Twilight for damage, while a prismatic blur zoomed to a hover near them. Twilight motioned for al-Fahoof and the others and indicated the tent, and they followed the medical team inside. Chaos reigned within the canvas walls as several medics attempted to tend to Frostwing at once. Fluttershy bit her lip, clearly anxious to contribute to the effort herself but reluctant to approach the crowd jostling around the injured pegasus. With a snarl, Frostwing grabbed the nearest and sent the rest away, then snorted and waved Twilight and the Arabian over with a hoof. “What the buck happened, Fahoof?” she growled, twinging occasionally as her medic applied ointment and bandages to her injured wing. “I could not tell you,” said al-Fahoof, eyes wide with bewilderment, “He mostly spoke in a language I could not understand. I made out the words ‘forest’, ‘darkness’, and ‘drown’ while he shouted, but I do not know why he said that.” Frostwing spat on the canvas floor, eliciting a frown from her attending medic, but Twilight tilted her head thoughtfully. “What gives?” whined Rainbow Dash, glaring accusingly at Twilight and twitching her wings irritably, “How come I didn’t get to go with you guys on the dangerous adventure? I thought I was the security pony!” Twilight sighed and shook her head, holding up a hoof to stifle the angry retort brewing in Frostwing’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Rainbow, I just got so carried away with the thought of meeting an uncontacted culture I forgot. But we’ve got bigger problems right now.” She turned to Frostwing, and looked over the injury. The cut didn’t seem debilitating, and when she caught the medic’s gaze he smiled reassuringly at her. “Not to worry, ma’am,” he said, “Nothing too deep, but she’ll be grounded for four or five days while this heals.” Frostwing groaned, and at Twilight’s nod, the medic continued wrapping the wound. “Right,” Twilight began, drawing everypony’s attention her way. She stiffened at the sudden scrutiny, still unsure in her authority as expedition leader and uncomfortable in the spotlight. “Well, I think we’ll have to go back to the hut as soon as we can tomorrow morning, and I’d like a look at that pass.” As she had expected, there were several noises of protest, though none as loud as Spike’s. He slid off of her back, staring at her with disbelieving eyes. “No way!” he shouted, his voice rather higher pitched than usual, “That crazy old pony’ll cut us all into pieces and put us in his stew!” Suddenly thankful to have left Pinkie Pie far behind in Equestria, Twilight waved his concerns away. “We’ve got warning now, Spike, and a whole squadron of guardsponies with us. Besides, I think that stallion might know something about Petrot.” Some of the shock in al-Fahoof’s eyes faded at her words. “Why is it you think that, Ms. Twilight?” he asked, “He is only one pony alone in the sands, and he spoke only madness.” Twilight began to pace around the tent, her downcast eyes glaring in concentration. “It’s something I read in the book Princess Celestia sent me this morning. The book is a rare pre-Discordant history of the Roanan Empire written by a travelling merchant, who in chapter 47 visited Petrot. He mentioned a narrow gatehouse before the hidden city’s entryway, and a family of ponies that had guarded the city gates for generations. It… well, it seems impossible, but it’s such a coincidence that he’d mention a gate, and then that bit about the forest… the city was supposedly hidden within a wild forest rooted in the deep waters of the oasis.” Once again everypony grew quiet for a moment. Frostwing snorted angrily then, and her pale golden eyes gleamed with determination in the bright glow of the tent’s many lanterns. “Ms. Sparkle, ma’am, I must insist that I accompany you to the confrontation. My guards and I will restrain the prisoner, and you can interrog…” “Hey, slow down!” shouted Rainbow, zipping up to Frostwing and glaring down at her. “I’m supposed to be the security pony! I decide who goes, you can’t leave me out like that!” Despite the squawks of protest from the medic tending to her, Frostwing jumped to her hooves. Before the bandages sent flying by Rainbow had settled on the tent floor, Frostwing had crossed the distance between them and was thrusting her muzzle directly into Rainbow’s. “You care to enforce that authority, you feather-brained dropout?” A sparkling purple shield erupted between the two mares just as they moved to strike one another, sending them and several orderlies to fly into the corners of the tent. Rainbow groaned, pulling herself from a pile of loose bandages and tangled IV poles. Twilight winced when she saw the spreading red stain under Frostwing’s bandages. “Sorry girls, I didn’t mean to hurt anypony. But Frostwing,” she began, and her tone turned less conciliatory, “You did insult Rainbow Dash pretty harshly.” Dash stuck her tongue out at Frostwing, until Twilight’s annoyed gaze hit her as well. “What gives? I didn’t do anything!” When Twilight continued to glare at her, she fidgeted, and her eyes dropped to the ground. “Rainbow Dash, do you remember the conversation we had last Wednesday? About not interfering with the security team?” The cyan pegasus scuffed her front hoof on the floor, eyes darting everywhere but Twilight’s. “Well, yeah, but… I mean… That was seriously uncool! And aren’t I the ‘security chief’ or whatever on all your egghead paperwork?” Twilight rolled her eyes and groaned in exasperation, forcibly reminded of another conversation she had had to rehash earlier. “For the last time, Rainbow, don’t interfere with the guard squads! Captain Frostwing is right, you aren’t trained to coordinate a guard unit, leave those responsibilities to her.” Frostwing’s wings relaxed a bit at the support, and when the shield came down a moment later, neither went for the other’s throat, though they still wore sour expressions as they faced one another. “I want you two to shake hoofs like adults, please, so that we can continue with planning for our return to the hovel tomorrow morning.” Both looked at Twilight incredulously for a moment. Then, with a resigned sigh, Captain Frostwing stepped forward and offered a hoof. Dash hesitated, but when she caught Twilight’s glower she rolled her eyes and shook Frostwing’s hoof. “Thank you. Now, Captain, I think that in addition to your squad we should bring…” --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- As the sun began to sneak over the flat tops of the craggy mountains, a purple librarian, twelve Canterlot guardsponies, one Saddle Arabian guide, and a brash blue pegasus once again crested the dunes before the feet of the towering cliff. The moment Twilight set her gaze on the hut at the edge of the sands, she could tell that something was amiss. As they grew nearer, the oddness of the scene began to resolve. The parched crops growing before the door of the hut were gone, as was the cloth in the doorway. Half of the ceiling had collapsed. The place seemed to have been abandoned. When they got to the hut, Twilight and Frostwing entered the structure. Neither fireplace nor rugs were there; the utensils were long gone, and a thick layer of dust coated the shattered and deeply weathered fixtures. The air seemed musty, as though there were moisture in the hut, but all was quite dry to the touch. Blinking in the harshness of the desert glare after the cool confines of the hut, Twilight squinted around her, and when she spotted Rainbow she made a beeline for her, Frostwing trailing in her wake. “What gives? I thought we were supposed to be fighting some crazy pony!” Scanning the ruined structure, she added, “This place is a dump.” “Something must have happened,” Twilight groaned, disappointment etched in her face, “He must have left when the roof caved in. His stuff is gone.” Frostwing shuffled uncomfortably. “Ms. Sparkle, did you notice the layer of dust on the fixtures? That place has been unoccupied for at least several years.” “So… you’re saying it was a ghost pony?” Dash teased, wiggling her forehooves and warbling a spooky sound effect. Spike, who had been just as unnerved by the building’s condition, clung tighter to Twilight’s mane and quivered. “G..Gh...Ghost pony?” “Oh Spike,” sighed Twilight, “There are no such things as ghosts.” Fixing a hard stare on Rainbow Dash and Frostwing, she added, “That dust could have been dropped by the collapse of the roof.” Unconvinced, Spike nevertheless retrieved his claws from Twilight’s hair. A cloud of dust rose then on the horizon, announcing the timed arrival of the rest of their retinue. As the group began to set up camp about them, Twilight sought out Fluttershy, and they set off for the pass just visible to the west. The walls of rust red rock threatened to swallow the rising sun as they approached the fissure in the monolith of crumbling stone. This mountain was easily three times as tall as any in the surrounding orogeny, Twilight remarked to herself, silently calculating the height to be perhaps 27,000 feet if the angle made by the peak relative to the peak of the nearest easily estimated mountain… “Twilight!” Rainbow’s shout shook the mathematician from her estimations. Upon returning her gaze to the pass, her jaw dropped. They had arrived. Elaborately worked into the living rock of the fissure, a towering archway rose high above them. Several hundred pillars adorned each leg of the immense gateway, each supporting a beam bedecked with innumerable statues weathered by millennia of perpetual bombardment by the infamous desert sandstorms. Dozens of doorways, arrow slits, crenellates, and murder holes dotted the structure. What appeared to be massive, concreate urns adorned the top of the archway, jutting from what appeared to be the keystone. The massive bronze gates, miraculously preserved in the harsh climate, were well ajar when they arrived. Twilight glanced between her companions. Fluttershy trembled as she gazed skyward at the looming curve of the archway far above them. Surprisingly, al-Fahoof was also stamping nervously as his eyes darted about the structure. Suddenly determined, he marched up to Twilight’s side. “Miss Sparkle, I do not think we should be here. This place is cursed, it is said in my homeland.” Twilight actually laughed, some of her own trepidation at the intimidating gatehouse lessened at the absurdity. “Ibn, there are no such thing as curses. That’s all superstitious mumbo jumbo. Trust me,” she said, eyes meeting Rainbows and lips curving into a grin, “I would know.” Al-Fahoof stomped in the sand, snorting suddenly and making everypony tense up. “You are wrong! This place is cursed, I say! The dead own it; only the dead may enter it.” Twilight cleared her throat, nervous but incensed at the affront to her logic, “That’s ridiculous, al-Fahoof. Even the enchantments here should have faded by now; it’s just a crumbling old ruin. We have to go in.” The Arabian neighed angrily, rearing for a moment in agitation. “I tell you, I will not go in! I did not even believe it was even real, but now I am certain!” Then, with a snort, he fell back to his hooves, turned from them, and trotted back towards camp. Everypony exchanged bemused expressions. “He’ll calm down,” said Twilight, “He’s just being superstitious.” Then, with an eager glint in her eyes, she turned to the gateway before them, and trotted through, her friends beside her and Frostwing’s ponies close behind.