The fact that she felt something hurt was proof enough that she lived, however unpleasant it may be. Everything hurt, from her head down to her toes, all bleating signals to her brain that she had been injured. Her eyes flickered and still saw darkness, the stars flashing in her vision brighter than all her surroundings. Every movement she took to rouse herself from where she lay was met with a wave of soreness across her entire body; gritting her teeth and pushing through the discomforting wave was her solution, and Celestia found the will to rise to her knees.
She was somewhere very dank and dark- if it had not been for the fetid smell of ill water, she would not have known a difference from here and the outside world. Her vision was still covered as though a veil had been lain across the world- though the more time she spent in this hole in the earth, the more she began to become accustomed to it. At least here, of all places, she could see a bit more clearly.
A figure lay near her in the dust, still unmoving. Ford was there with her, seemingly still unconscious from their descent into the Deep. Pushing through her aching weakness yet again, Celestia rose and made her way over to him, gently rousing him into the waking world. “Ford… Ford, can you hear me?”
He was slow to recover, his movements stiff and his words muffled from grunts of pain. He took time to open his eyes, his gaze bleary and poorly focused; when at last he held sight of his beloved, his smile came and spoke to his suffering. “Hi,” he whispered in a voice choked by dust.
“Hi,” she replied, stroking away the grime upon his face, pushing away dirt and blood from his scars. “Are you alright?”
He tried to rouse himself into a sitting position and struggled mightily, his every breath bringing a fresh wave of pain to his wracked form. “I am afraid not,” he said. “My ribs feel bruised- badly.”
“Let me bring an end to that,” Celestia said, stretching out her hand and placing it across his chest-
“No! Save your strength, Tia!” he gasped, moving quickly to block her power before she could act. “You will need every last drop of it here in this place.”
“But you’re hurt…”
“Just bruises,” Ford said valiantly, gritting his teeth as he forced himself to his feet. “I will remain steadfast.”
“I am so sorry, Ford. We delayed ourselves for too long.” Celestia felt her heart twist in grief at the memory of Jairus and his folk being taken by Sombra’s grasp. “They are now gone because of me...”
“Do not say such things,” he rebuked. “This is the work of Sombra and him alone. We will find a way to reverse the tide- we must.”
“Then we should get started,” she said, taking his hand and feeling some of her pain beginning to lessen. “After all, we are in the enemy’s camp now.”
It was a mild way of putting things. The Blightmakers had thrown them into a deep pit below the surface of the earth, their surroundings dimly lit by torches of darkened, grey fire. The walls were smooth, carved stone that held the presence of rows of ornate statues in service of a dark god. Small, ornate pedestals dotted the hall where they stood, some still bearing offerings that had yet to rot away into the ether. Here, in this foul place, the laws of light and time had been done away with in favor of a more terrible power.
“What sort of place is this?” Ford murmured, looking about at the columns that stood in rows down the hall. He peered at them and saw chains hanging from atop them, the bones and rotted corpses of tormented prisoners still held to them. “Jairus called it by name, did he not? Though what it was I cannot recall.”
“The Prison of Souls,” Celestia said grimly. Jairus’ look of fear just at the mention of its name was difficult to forget.
Ford looked no better for the remembrance of it. “It simply sounds like a high-flown name for Hell…”
“You may be far off the mark,” she said. “Come. We should not tarry.”
Ford nodded, joining his wife as they slowly shuffled away into the depths of the hellish acropolis.
“How did we end up so far down? Surely the fall from such a height should have killed us,” Ford wondered aloud as they walked.
“We have been dragged away. For what purpose, I do not know,” Celestia answered. “But it was no accident we are here.”
“So Sombra is close,” he realized.
“I am afraid so.” It was not a lie; the nearness of such a foulness terrified her, causing the Light that dwelled within her to flicker and dim. She felt small compared to the great Void, like a candle in the cavernous depths, barely capable of lighting the path before her own eyes. This was a place made to be hostile to her very existence.
They made their way onwards, not knowing whether or not they pushed through to safety or an even darker fate. Celestia’s senses remained alert for any sign of disturbance as they marched, noting that the great absence of sound that had been so prevalent above was not so down in the darkness. She could hear running water somewhere nearby, a thick flow that moved slowly. Water, here in the midst of a Prison of Souls? It seemed so unlike Sombra, a believer in rock and stone and things of deep earth.
“A door is ahead,” Ford said, shuffling forward and pressing against it. “But locked… Mmf, it feels like iron!”
“Let me look at it,” Celestia said, coming aside her husband and feeling it against her hand. “Cold as ice…”
“Look there, a keyhole!” Ford said suddenly, feeling the mechanism as though his fingers would be enough to break the seal. “We really are in a prison. We were thrown into a cellblock.”
“Any lock can be opened if you have the key.”
“That is true- but we do not have the key.”
“You have me,” Celestia said, kneeling down before the door and placing her fingers about the lock. “A locked door is a simple thing.”
“Wait- before you do it, think carefully now,” he warned her.
“It is not up a choice we can make, Ford. These are confined quarters here- this is no place for a battle. Right now we are on Sombra’s home territory, and every advantage there is to be had will be his. Wherever we are to face him, I do not want it to be here.” Before he could say a word in reply she acted, a small jolt of lightning flowing from her fingertips and into the lock, the shock of power igniting the bolt and shattering it, the door opening before their eyes. “Onwards.”
“Onwards.”
The door led them down a thin hallway of damp brick and mortar, they walking through it and finding themselves out in the open at last. The temple they had traversed through was only a small part of a massive network, held together by a wide, slowly moving river that circled a mighty, domed coliseum of grey stone. Far above them and nearly out of sight was the roof of the great cave, with a long, winding staircase leading down from the surface and into the coliseum beneath it. At every section of the temple was a small, meager dock, guarded by a great statue of stone; a cloaked being bearing a horned crown above its head, with four arms each to carry both fire and blade as it stood sentry above the temple cellblock.
“Heaven help us…” Ford’s whisper carried through the great expanse, his eyes on the stone watchman as though he expected it to suddenly spring to life. “What an ungodly sight to behold.”
“A raft,” Celestia said, pointing to the edge of the dock where a float, hardly bigger a small table, remained tied to the jetty. “We can move onwards. Perhaps if we find a way to that staircase, we would be able to find a way to the surface.”
“Keep eye on those statues as we go,” he added, his gaze still flickering towards the unmoving sentry. “They feel alive in ways we are not.”
Their steps across the dock were uneasy. Each footfall caused the wood to groan under the weight and make them wonder if they would be sent falling into the dark waters below; as she took in the sight of the churning bog under their feet, Celestia winced at the thought. Whatever had been done to the water she did not know, but knew it would not bode well for them to enter it.
“This is too easy,” Ford said as he slid down onto the raft, steadying himself on its precarious position above the water. “We should be struggling for every inch of ground we gain, not simply sailing on through like nothing can stop us. Something is wrong.”
Is he that confident of a struggle against us? Celestia wondered as she descended to join her husband. A lock that I can easily shatter, a raft to ferry us across the water to find the only exit… what is he planning?
Ford took the oar in hand and pushed them away, driving the paddle into the thick waters as they pressed out into the river. Each single row forward was difficult, the slow-moving waters thick as mud, the oar barely able to cut through. Though there was little current to impede their progress, their journey across it was slow, and it took what seemed like hours for them to come in sight of a place to make landfall.
“This one looks more ornate, doesn’t it?” he remarked, taking note of the well-built marina. It was of carved stone rather than hastily pressed wood, each mooring capable of sheltering a great ferry, fare more substantial than their flimsy raft. As though it had once been crafted for the graces of larger, finer vessels before it had been taken into the depths of the earth and hidden from all hopes of light.
“Sombra may have caused a cataclysm in this place. Caused it to sink below the surface,” Celestia wondered aloud. “He saw this temple and turned it into a place of death.”
“But for what purpose? He turns everything in this world into one of his accursed monsters, surely they do not wander down into this place.”
For all her knowledge of their foe, the answer to his question alluded her and she remained silent. Whether it had been done for plans long abandoned or for ones yet to come she could not say.
Their entry into the coliseum was a quiet one, the entrance only a small pathway into the outer walls of the place. The hallway before them was thin, barely the shoulder length of a typical man; Ford, with his broad stature, struggled to keep himself from becoming stuck. Though Celestia forged on ahead to see the route that lay before them, even she found nothing of consequence.
“It is winding, unusually so. If I did not know better, I would say we are entering a labyrinth,” she told him. Her mind began to race, depicting flashes and images of nightmare beasts and struggles along their way to freedom, all of it blocked by a single vile presence that had awaited their arrival since the moment they had made landfall..
“I can hardly imagine what is in the center,” Ford replied drily.
“Be ready. If I am right, we should make this turn and find it spread out before us-”
Celestia’s words went cold the moment she made her rightward turn, finding herself in a grand open hallway that was well-lit by many grates of that same, dull-colored flame from the cell block they had found themselves in. The path ran two ways, one heading into the interior of the coliseum and the other heading into the elongated, winding staircase they had seen during their journey across the river, with each path heavily guarded by the multi-limbed statues that Ford so heavily detested.
“Well. Perhaps not.”
“The stairs begin here. It will be a long trek back to the surface,” Celestia said. “How are you feeling? If we can, it would be best that we begin as soon as we can, lest… something…”
Her words went silent, and Ford was left waiting for a sentence that would never be finished. Spying her eyes, he turned himself and found he was facing into the open coliseum, the great domed arena lit by only a single, pale, ghostly light that descended from above as though from nowhere, shining down on a narrow, stone-crafted sacrificial table that lay empty, save for the small, solitary, crimson stone that lay in the center of it. The Philosopher’s Stone.
Here.
“It can’t be.” Ford was nearly on his knees, his head darting this way and that as he searched for some surprise about him, his eyes still fixated on the Stone. “Here. We found it, we actually found it.”
The original purpose for their journey was right in front of them. Celestia salivated at the thought, knowing that in only a few moments her husband would have it in hand. Their hopes for immortality had driven them to this place, though Sombra had been their opponent in the quest to find it. They had nearly given up hope, believing it to be all but consumed or lost in the midst of the darkness. But here, here of all places where the Void’s grasp was the fiercest, it was free and open for the taking. Ford would crush the Stone in his hands and consume the powder, allowing the Stone’s power to enter his body and become part of him. As he did so, the strength of an immortal body would be upon him and their journey would truly be complete. All he need do is take it.
“What- what should I do?” Ford still knelt next to her, waiting for his next command. Perhaps he did not fully understand like she did, not yet realizing what was about to become his at last. After millennia within the Palace, with only the Sanctelior’s blessing to protect him from the doom of Man, he would at last be like his beloved…
“Go! Quickly, take it!” Celestia insisted, practically pushing him towards it, so great was her eagerness. She wondered what she would see when the moment finally came, wondering if he would be transfigured just as the Alicorns had been in the days of old. What would change within him? His height? His shape? What strengths would it bestow upon him, beyond the taste of undying days? She could hardly imagine.
“Are you sure?” Ford still had not yet run forth to grasp his destiny, looking at the Stone with a mixture of awe and fear. Perhaps he had only just begun to understand the gravity of what lay before him…
“Take it, Ford! It is yours!” She was nearly out of her skin with impatience, waiting for the moment that would assure they be together forever-
Ford hesitated- and then he dashed out into the open coliseum towards the exposed Philosopher’s Stone, body bent as though he expected to be struck at any moment. He paused yet again, looking about to ensure the area was clear before rushing forward and heading straight for the table-
Celestia’s mind finally clicked. All thoughts and desires for the Stone finally melted away in an instant and she knew what they had just done. All her mind had been set for a great battle, a struggle for even the smallest gain, traps and surprised at every turn- only to be fooled by the simplest of decisions: a route to freedom and victory, or sending her own husband right into a trap that was baited by the only thing she still truly desired. “Ford-”
Ford, seeing that no one was near him, crept towards the sacrificial table with his hand outstretched to snatch the Stone from its place-
Crack. A long, jagged edge of sharp obsidian fell at his feet and blocked his path, sinking into the ground before the table. Ford came to an immediate halt, the mere presence of the horrendous blade nigh enough to cut flesh and bone. He took a step back and his hair stood on edge at the sight.
“Ford… come back. Slowly,” Celestia said, her voice barely a whisper. It was a longshot, the most unlikely of things. Perhaps it had been a trap, not he reacting to a hostile presence. It was a trap yes, but maybe not one under watch.
Ford took one step back and loose stone beneath his feet was cracked open, the small sound reverberating across the coliseum in an endless, unrelenting echo. As the silence fell, a great splintering sound become to emanate from across the stadium, only growing with intensity. Ford winced, hardly daring to move himself from where he stood; it had been enough.
Above him, held bound to the coliseum ceiling, was a great shadowed figure that lay crucified on an iron crucifix. Nails had been struck into his feet just above the ankle, with great iron stakes pressed through his wrists, all of them held fastened by a series of thick, metal chains that lay limp in the air. But as the sound of rocks breaking only intensified, small pieces of cast metal and stonework began to fall from above and pepper the floor below. The chains began to rattle like the ghostly emanations of a deranged specter, each individual link crackling and eventually clattering to the ground as the figure’s inert form began to gain life. The cross groaned with the effort pulled against it, the hardened metal bending under the pressure. The heavy stakes that bound feet and hands fell with a clatter as the chains that held them fast were destroyed, and the shadowed figure came to earth in a crash. A great, hulking menace was he, twenty feet tall and covered in a dark armor that seemed to gleam in the horror of the Deep. In his hand was a great sword, the blade thicker and heavier than even the mightiest of axes. Upon his head was a mighty helm that bore more likeness to a crown than a garment of war, with ten horns hewn upon it. As the colossus righted himself and stood tall within the great stadium, Sombra at last opened his eyes, revealing the once-poisonous purple and green had been consumed by the bloody color of the iris, leaving only an iridescent crimson that shone like the depths of a star in the darkness. His every movement creaked, each footstep he took towards them enough to send the world into pieces. For he was not merely its master, its conqueror. He was Sombra, the Lord of the Deep and god of this world, and after millennia of slumber, had come to the waking world to crush his foes at last.
“Run.” Celestia was beside her husband, trying to pull him away from the table as best she could, hoping that Sombra had not yet truly seen them. “You need to run with me. We need to run.”
Sombra, the great titan of the Void, looked down upon them and knew them, remembering their faces and who they were. His crimson eyes turned to slits, a poisonous smile creeping across his lips, only to let loose a scream of war.
“Run!” Celestia screamed, dragging Ford away from his terror and sending the two into their flight-
Ford, aroused from his stupor, finally joined in her efforts and they raced out of the coliseum towards the winding stairway, hoping beyond hope that would somehow make it before they were taken away.
Sombra made no effort to give chase, instead calling to himself all the strength and will of the Deep to his command, a vile pet of his own creation, summoning forth its strength and sending its formless shape into the depths after them, its many tentacles limbs writhing and shrieking out their cries as they went forth after their prey.
Ford ran alongside his beloved, his chest screaming out its pain. His injuries from their confinement in this place had not yet healed, leaving him betrayed by his own form. He was exhausted and worn even as they began, rushing up stair after stair towards the darkened world above- that was still subjugated to the master they were fleeing, held deep in his grasp. They had come here to stop him and found themselves outmatched- even Celestia, greatest of the Alicorns, too afraid to face him any longer. All their hopes, their great struggled across endless time and space, had come to this point- seemingly all for nothing.
So far have we come, he thought, struggling to keep up with his bride as they fled, his heaving chest causing him endless agony. So many places, sights, people. They looked to us for hope. For a future. But we cannot even try to win. We are doomed as they are.
But I MUST do something!
A flash of memory fell across his mind. He saw the nicked statue in his own thoughts the moment before he ran past it, recalling the broken steps on the flight ahead of them before he could even lay eyes upon them. And even more he recalled; steel upon steel, a cry of rage- and a great presence piercing his chest. He had seen it all before, for her had already been here. He knew.
Their goal had always been the same: destroy Sombra’s armies, and defeat Sombra himself. Perhaps they could not truly do either, but if they could seal Sombra away in this place- perhaps that would be enough. No army of the Deep would ever see the light of day, away from this desecrated world; he would assure it.
“Tia!” Ford finally fell to his knees, unable to run a moment longer. “Tia, you have to come here!”
“Ford! Get up, come on now! We’re gaining, you have to keep trying!” Celestia was insistent, dragging his arm so hard that she nearly tore it from its socket-
“Listen to me!” The gateway, can you destroy it?” Ford said, taking hold of her in his hands. He could hear the slithering sound of the Void creeping closer, itching to consume-
“Ford, I will not know unless I try-”
“Not good enough! Yes or no?” he asked, knowing time was short. It had to be a well-made gamble, for there to be some semblance of hope-
“… Yes. I could destroy it,” she whispered.
Ford kissed her fiercely, knowing it would be his last. “Go and destroy it,” he said to her, stumbling slowly backwards towards the open stairway. “Stop Sombra from ever leaving this place. If we are to die, let it be done here. Keep our home safe.”
Celestia realized his plan in an instant. “Ford, no-! He’ll kill you-”
“I know. I love you, I will always love you,” Ford said, feeling something slimy creep around his ankle-
It was upon him in an instant, so focused on its prey that it gave no notice to the other. Wrapping its tentacles about him until only the barest flesh was visible, Ford was swallowed by the blackness and thrown back into the Prison, a hollow scream following him as he fell.
“Ford!” Celestia cried out, abandoning her hopes of escape to chase after him-
A great crackling of stone and the guardian statues came to life at last, their many limbs ensnaring her and slamming her down into the ground, the flames and stonework blades dangerously close to her skin, the heat enough to burn against her flesh. Celestia writhed as much as she could, trying to find a way to break free, only to find her captors grip was ironshod as the stone from which they were made.
She was trapped- and Ford was doomed.