//------------------------------// // Part 3 // Story: Tough Cookie and Syntax // by Blazewing //------------------------------// “According to the map,” said Syntax, looking over it as they walked along, “we’re coming up on the last room in the tomb. The Scrolls must be there, as there’s no other place they could be, if the map is to be believed.” “I hope so,” said Cookie. “And I also hope there’s a way out, too. I don’t wanna have to go back through those other rooms again just to leave.” “Nor do I.” The tunnel leveled out once again, bringing them into the aforementioned final room. They were standing in a low-ceilinged circular chamber this time, bearing seven sealed doors of different sizes, from ceiling height to about the same size as the entrance to the tomb outside. On a platform before them sat three golden keys, glowing faintly in the gloom. Cookie and Syntax looked from the keys to each other. “Seven locks, three keys,” muttered Syntax. “Interesting. And there’s no indication of which door is the right one on the map. There’s no further path drawn on it from this room.” “Do you think we should just try all the locks with these?” Cookie asked. “See which one fits what door?” “That seems to be what they’re meant for, but why only three? There must be a trick to this room…” He looked around, and suddenly spied writing along one of the walls. It was quite a long block of text, too. He squinted at it, and was only just firing up his horn to translate it, when he heard a cry. He whirled around to see Cookie standing before one of the largest doors. She had thrown it open, only to be met with a solid, blank wall. Moreover, the key, still in the lock, was dissolving into golden mist. The second it did, the door slammed shut again. “Cookie!” Syntax hissed angrily. “Haven’t you learned anything from your last acts of rashness?! What is the matter with you?!” “Well, how was I supposed to know the key was gonna disappear after I used it?!” Cookie shouted. “I thought it just wouldn’t work on the lock and you had to try again on a different door!” “There’s text here, which may lead to a clue about this room!” Syntax snapped, his glasses flashing. “If you would just have the patience to stop and listen for once, instead of rushing ahead and putting us in danger just to handle some petty trinket, we would accomplish things much easier, and with less risk for our lives! Now stand over here beside me, be quiet, and don’t touch anything, before we lose the other two keys to your insufferable impatience!” Cookie’s cheeks burned with anger and humiliation, and she glared daggers at Syntax, who glared right back, but she didn’t say a word. With a snort, she waddled over to her partner’s side with her eyes cast down, looking like a naughty foal after being scolded. With an exasperated sigh, Syntax lit up his horn. The words on the wall glowed brightly, then rearranged themselves into Ponish, which ran thus: “The Chamber of Logic To you who have traversed this far And seek what lies within You must endure one final test To claim the prize herein Before your eyes stand seven doors But of keys there are only three They work but once on the door you pick After that, they cease to be One door leads to the treasure room The reward of your daring feat One door leads to the outside world Your only source of retreat Two lead nowhere, and merely deceive Blank walls there lie behind The rest lead to deadly traps The sure and fatal kind But we are just, and will give fair chance To find which way to go So harken well to these clues we give They contain all that you must know First, however slyly danger tries to hide You will always find it on a dead end’s left side Second, different are each door that stands at either end But if you seek the treasure, neither is your friend Third, as you see clearly, all are of different size Neither dwarf nor giant leads to death in their insides Fourth, the second left and the second on the right Are similar once they’re opened, though different at first sight" Cookie rubbed her head, completely befuddled. “That’s a mouthful and a half,” she muttered to herself. “I see,” said Syntax. “So, only two doors are of importance to us. One leads to the Scrolls, another leads to the outside. Two are dead ends, three are traps. Thanks to your process of elimination, Cookie, we know that the second door there leads to a dead end, and that means the sixth one is the other dead end. That rules two of them out, leaving three traps, the path to the scrolls, and the true way out. Now, let me see…” Cookie said nothing. She was still feeling both awkward and frustrated over wasting one of the keys, and she didn’t want to make Syntax angry again by offering her own input now, not when she had already messed up. Her former bravado had evaporated once again. Syntax looked from door to door, his brow furrowed. He glanced back at the clues from time to time, muttering under his breath as he compared them with the scene before him. Cookie remained silent, not wanting to break his concentration. During that time, the resigned anger ebbed away from her expression as well, leaving her looking rather humbled. At last, Syntax nodded with a firm smile. “I’ve got it!” Cookie looked up, and he pointed to the third door from the left, the smallest of them all. “That door from the left will lead to the Scrolls, and the one on the very right will lead us out of here.” Cookie looked at both doors and winced. There were both roughly the same size as the way they had come in, and she remembered how bothersome it had been to squeeze through that way. “You’re sure, Tax?” she asked. “Positive. The clues lead me to believe so, and I’ve run them through my head several times.” “And can you already see the problem with that?” Syntax looked at Cookie and raised an eyebrow. Cookie sighed in exasperation. “Do you really want me to say it? Sheesh, for someone who knows all about languages, you sure do love having the obvious spelled out for you.” She sat down on her curvy haunches and put her hooves to her prominent middle, moving her hooves around herself to indicate her considerable circumference. “All of this,” she said, “is not gonna fit through either of those doors. You can go in and get the Scrolls fine by yourself, but getting out of here is literally gonna be fitting a round peg through a square hole. We’d be here for ages waiting to budge me through.” “When has that ever stopped you before?” Syntax asked, calmly. Cookie blinked. “You’ve never let the size of an aperture deter you in the past,” Syntax continued. “You still attempted it with mule-headed stubbornness, against all logic and reason, and regardless of whether or not you fit, you didn’t stop trying until you had forced that bulk of yours through by sheer determination. What makes it different now?” Cookie didn’t answer at first. She simply gazed down at the floor, unable to look Syntax in the eye. Syntax regarded her with a mild look of concern at this. “...Nothing, I guess,” Cookie mumbled. “I guess I’m just kinda shook up about that whole key thing.” Syntax’s expression softened slightly at this. “Oh, now, Cookie,” he said, gently. “If this is about me losing my temper with you–” “It’s not,” said Cookie. “I mean, it kinda is, but you were right to, because it made me realize what we’ve gotten into. This isn’t anything like what we’ve been used to, Tax. All we’ve done in the past is scope out a treasure’s resting place, maybe solve a few puzzles to get to it, prove how clever we are, and there we go. Treasure found, badda-bing, badda-boom. Nothing fancy about that. There’s never been death traps and certain doom tied to them before now. I know you mentioned them when we first talked about the scrolls, but I kinda just blew that off like they were nothing. Nothing we couldn’t handle, anyway. It made me think about reading about the kind of stuff guarding the treasures in Daring Do books. It always sounds intense and exciting, but experiencing that kind of thing first-hoof…” She looked up at Syntax, and there was a quavering light in her eyes he had never seen before. It caught him off guard for a moment. “I could’ve gotten us trapped here forever, or worse, if there weren’t three keys. I could’ve gotten us killed in that first room, all because I really wanted that statue. And who knows what could’ve happened in that second room, when I just grabbed that hourglass? It would’ve been my fault, cuz I just kept plunging ahead without thinking, without waiting for you to scope things out. You’ve always been the one finding all the answers and getting us through, while I’ve just been making things worse and slowing us down. I’m sorry, Tax…” Syntax simply stood there, astonished. It wasn’t like Cookie to be this way. Certainly, she wasn’t stone-hearted or unfeeling, but he had never seen her look or heard her sound so...vulnerable. He was so used to her confident bravado that this contrition staggered him. Finally, with a tender smile, he walked over to her and put a hoof under her chin. “Come now,” he said. “It’s not like you to speak this way. This isn’t the Tough Cookie I know and admire. You’re always so brim full of confidence and swagger. Not even something as daunting as a door made for a thinner pony has ever stopped you. I realize this is different from what our usual pursuits have been, and that the stakes have never been this high for our lives, but we’ve still managed to pull through together, as we’ve always done.” Cookie said nothing, so Syntax went on. “As for me finding all the answers, that isn’t entirely true. You helped clue me in to what the answers were.” Cookie looked at him, puzzled. “I’m serious,” said Syntax. “You gave me the hint I needed to figure out the password to get inside. You helped steer me into thinking outside the box in the Chamber of ‘Death Tiles’, as you call it. You have been a source of great support for me on this expedition, and all of our others. I wouldn’t have the confidence or boldness to search for these hidden treasures without you by my side. Your spirit of adventure inspires me to be adventurous, Cookie.” Cookie’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink than her coat at these words, and she finally smiled a little. “Really?” “Of course. What use is there in having a great intellect without having a reason to use it? I would still be surrounded by my books day in and day out without your yearning for excitement and discovery. So while there have been some slip-ups and near accidents in the past, ones that could have been avoided had you been a little more attentive and patient–” “I was waiting for that,” muttered Cookie, with a small chuckle. “–I have never once regretted being your friend and partner all these years.” Cookie’s lip trembled, and though she was not a mare who was easily moved to tears, the quivering gleam in her eyes was proof enough that she was immensely touched. She gripped Syntax’s hoof in her own, giving it a firm squeeze. “Thanks, Tax. That means a lot. I like having you around too. I wouldn’t get half as far on these adventures without your brains, and your snarky comebacks make things a lot less boring.” Syntax grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment of high regard, my friend,” he said, doffing his hat. “Now, do you feel better? Ready to claim our prize?” The hardy glint of determination had returned to Cookie’s eyes, and she got to her hooves, brushing a lock of her mane out of her face. “I’m ready. Let’s do it.” “Excellent.” Turning back to the remaining keys, he gripped one in his magic, and held it out to Cookie. “You should have the honors,” he said. Grinning broadly, Cookie accepted the key and marched over to the left side of the chamber, facing the smallest door on that side. “Third from the left, you said?” “That’s the one.” Cookie stuck the key in the lock and turned it. With a click, the door swung open, and Cookie held it in place against the wall with her hoof, in case it decided to slam shut by itself. Bending down, she peered inside, and Syntax joined her to look inside as well. The door opened onto a rather cramped chamber. It was completely bare, except for a small platform in the very center. Sitting on the platform was a red earthenware jar, sealed with a lid of the same material, and inscribed with various symbols. Cookie and Syntax looked at each other, puzzled. “Are the scrolls supposed to be in the jar?” Cookie asked. “I would assume so,” said Syntax. “Let’s see. Keep the door open even after I bring it out, Cookie.” He flared up his horn, gripping the jar in his magic. Taking care not to bump it and crack it, he lifted it off its platform and brought it out into the main chamber. As Cookie kept the door held in place, Syntax took off the lid and looked inside. “So?” Cookie asked, eagerly. “Is it the Scrolls?” There was a pause. “No,” said Syntax, simply. Cookie blinked. “No? What do you mean ‘no’?” “There aren’t scrolls in this jar, Cookie,” said Syntax, his expression neutral. “There is simply a scroll.” “Huh?” From out of the jar, Syntax lifted out a single tightly-bound scroll of faded parchment, sealed with a trailing scarlet ribbon inscribed with golden symbols. Cookie stared at it. “So, it’s not the Scrolls of Equus, but just the Scroll of Equus?” she asked, blankly. “It would appear so,” said Syntax, looking at it with interest. “Perhaps it’s enchanted to tell more of its story than can be written on it at once. We shall have to see, but for now, I would say this counts as a mission accomplished. Well done.” Cookie grinned broadly and held out her free hoof, which Syntax hoof-bumped with his own. “Now that we’ve claimed our prize,” said Syntax, “shall we return to the surface world?” “You bet,” said Cookie. “We’ve been underground for so long, walking those huge tunnels, I was starting to forget what the sun felt like.” “Well, according to my watch,” said Syntax, gazing at it, “it’s actually just about sundown.” “Really? Sheesh, no wonder I’m so hungry.” She put her hoof to her stomach, which growled at that moment. “Well, let’s not keep your stomach waiting any longer,” said Syntax, with a chuckle. “I’ll go unlock the door to the outside. You don’t need to hold this one open any longer. We may as well take the jar with us as well. It may be an antique in its own right.” “All righty.” Cookie was just about to close the door as Syntax walked away, when she spied something sitting where the jar had been. Curious, she grabbed it with her magic and took it out. It was a folded piece of paper, about the size of an average sticky note. Cookie unfolded and looked at it, but the paper only bore an odd symbol, nothing like anything she’d seen before. It looked, as close as she could approximate it, to a stylized eyeball.  “Is this some kind of hieroglyph?” Her horn flared up again, as she tried to determine how old the paper was, and if it belonged in the same category as the scroll they found.  She got her answer, and it made her eyes widen. "No," she muttered to herself. "That's impossible! It can't be..." Thoroughly puzzled, and resolving to ask Syntax about it the next chance she got, she tucked the paper away in her vest pocket and let the door close with a snap, just as Syntax was unlocking the exit door with the last key. She waddled over as quickly as she could as the door opened, then stopped, amazed. The door, rather than leading to another tedious tunnel, opened out onto a sandy landscape, with a blue-black sky tinged with the pink and gold glow of sunset. Barely visible in the distance was the airship they had used to come to the tomb. Syntax had a pleased grin on his face. “Ingenious,” he said. “The exit door was enchanted to act as a one-way escape out the same way we came in. That saves a great deal on tired hooves, make no mistake.” “Thank Celestia,” Cookie said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I could take much more walking today.” Syntax crouched low and slipped through the door, levitating the jar after him, until both were out in the open air. Cookie approached the door herself, crouching as low as she could, until her belly pressed down against the dusty floor. Already prepared for what was to come, she took a deep breath, sucking her gut in as much as possible, and started squeezing her way through. As she expected, even with her stomach sucked in, it was still a tight fit for a mare of her weight. As she reached her barrel, she found herself brought to a sudden halt. Her belly was still too big to fit through so easily, and had crammed itself snugly into the little door. Finding she could hold her breath no longer, she let it out, and her belly bulged out around the door even more, inside and out. Syntax merely shook his head, but said nothing. “Well,” Cookie grunted, trying to shift herself, “I did -mmph- try to suck it in -rrph- before trying this time. Oof. Didn’t work.” “So I can see,” said Syntax. “Need a little help?” “Nah,” said Cookie, waving her hoof dismissively. “You can go load up the jar into the airship. I’ll catch up.” So saying, she braced her hooves on the outside wall and gave a hard, straining push. Her face turned brick-red from the effort, and she wiggled and twisted, trying to inch her bulk through. If she managed it last time, and had even widened the hole a little from it, she figured that it might just work again. However, what might have worked on more malleable stone was not likely to have the same effect on a solid door frame, which Cookie’s bottom half, still inside the tomb, was firmly wedged in, her back legs kicking as she tried to edge forward. It felt like an eternity, and much more draining than was usual in these squeezes, but at long last, Cookie slid forward, her full belly bulging out like a great overstuffed pillow, as her rear now wedged itself in place. Exhausted, she stopped to take a breath, panting. She hated to admit it, but this adventure, with the long trekking and the perilous trials they had faced, combined with hunger, had drained her usual store of energy. She started to wonder if she could actually get herself free this time. She didn’t want them to be out there all night, with her literally stuck in two places at once. Then, before her tired eyes, a powder-blue hoof reached out. She looked up, and there was Syntax, smiling mildly. He hadn’t moved a single step towards the airship, as evidenced by the jar still sitting beside him. “My offer still stands,” he said, simply. Cookie stared at him, still panting. Then, wordlessly, and with a grateful smile on her face, she held out her hooves to him. He gripped them firmly in his own, took a deep breath, then gave a hard pull.  At first, Cookie remained firmly wedged in place, her backside refusing to budge, and the doorway even gave an ominous creak, as though protesting that much bulk trying to squeeze through. Then, after taking a short breather, Syntax gave another pull, which, at first, yielded no better result than before. But then, with a lurch, Cookie shifted forward a little, and the doorway bent outward at the edges. Cookie’s attempt to pass through actually appeared to be putting the door out of its usual shape. Another pause, another pull. With another sudden jerk, Cookie popped free, landing face and belly first onto the sand, while Syntax landed on his back. The door, now definitely bent out of shape from Cookie’s rump being forced through, slammed shut and disappeared, as if it wanted nothing more to do with her, lest it be damaged further. With a groan, Cookie sat up and dusted the sand from off of her, then waddled over to help Syntax up. “Thanks, Tax. You all right?” “I’m fine. Glad I could help. Now that we’re rid of that bothersome tomb, shall we return to the airship and grab a bite to eat from our provisions?” Cookie would have responded, but her stomach growled in place of a verbal answer. Needing no further answer, and with the two friends laughing about it, they gathered up the jar and started off back towards the airship. *** The moon had now fully risen, and the sky was dotted with stars, as the airship made its slow and graceful way north towards Canterlot, putting the Badlands behind it. Syntax was at the helm, giving the wheel an occasional nudge here or there to keep it on course, while Cookie lounged in a deck chair nearby, looking full and content, her hoof resting on her belly. “I can’t wait to crash in bed when we get home,” she said, longingly. “This has been such a long day.” “I quite agree. I’m looking forward to a nice long rest myself. I know I’ll sleep even more soundly knowing we found the Scroll of Equus.” “I can already imagine what a storm it’ll make for the papers: the fact that there weren’t multiple scrolls, but just one.” “A discovery that will turn the archeological community on its head, for sure,” said Syntax, with a hint of pride. There was silence for a minute or two, and Cookie had actually contemplated drifting off for a nap, when she suddenly remembered what she’d found in the treasure chamber, and now took it out of her vest pocket. “By the way, Tax, I found this piece of paper with a weird symbol in the chamber where we found the scroll. I thought maybe you could make sense of it.” Syntax turned quickly around, giving Cookie a start.  “What? There was something else in that chamber?” “Yeah,” said Cookie, slightly perturbed by his sudden agitation. “It’s weird, though. This paper definitely isn’t as old as that scroll. I scanned it with my spell, and it can’t be more than ten years old.” “Ten years?” Syntax asked, sharply. “Impossible! Let me see that!” Cookie handed him the slip. He opened it up and stared at the symbol written upon it. His eyes widened, and then his brow furrowed. He took the scroll out of the jar and looked at the ribbon that sealed it. His brow furrowed even further. “Of course…” he muttered. “Now it makes sense...I wondered...but if that’s the case…” “Mind clueing me in on what’s going on?” Cookie asked, a little annoyed at this lack of explanation. “My dear Cookie,” said Syntax, slowly and deliberately, “it appears that we were not the first explorers to uncover the secrets of that tomb. Another was before us.” “Well, I kinda guessed that, from how old that paper is, but does it mean something specific?” “It does. This symbol is the calling card of a notorious treasure hunter, a tomb raider of great skill and even greater mystery. No one knows what his or her real name is. They’re only known by this symbol, so they have been dubbed ‘The Mark’.” “‘The Mark’?” Cookie repeated, nonplussed. “Kind of a bland name, if you ask me.” “It’s the best anypony could come up with, with such vague evidence. In any case, The Mark’s symbol has appeared in print before, figuring into news of a grand heist or unexpected plundering, always carried out without anypony knowing they were ever there, if not for their calling card and a message left behind at the scene. It’s been a long time since the world received news of a heist from The Mark, but from their past capers, we can deduce that they are skilled in circumventing nearly every sort of security measure, ancient or modern, and they possess admirable knowledge in both geography and languages, as the messages they leave behind are always in the native tongue of wherever they have been.” Cookie stared, dumbfounded. She’d never heard of such a treasure hunter. The way Syntax described them, they sounded like some kind of master ninja, or even a professional criminal. But then, an even more foreboding thought settled on her mind, and she began to dread the answer of what she was about to ask. “So, does that mean this ‘Mark’ already found the Scrolls of Equus?” she asked. “We didn’t find the real deal?” “It would appear so,” said Syntax, heavily. “The Mark came before us, took what was really there, and left their calling card behind, and a message to say they had gotten there first. That’s essentially what the writing on this ribbon translates to.”  He showed Cookie the ribbon that tied the scroll up, and a flare of his horn translated the symbols into words: ‘I WIN AGAIN’. Cookie stared at it, blankly, mouth open. “I’m sorry, Cookie,” said Syntax. “We were, to put it bluntly, ‘beaten to the punch’.” Cookie slumped in her seat, her mind reeling. The Scrolls of Equus really had existed, and weren’t just one scroll after all, but somepony else had already beaten them to it. It seemed unreal. “But then,” she said finally, heaving herself up straighter, “if we didn’t get the Scroll of Equus, or Scrolls of Equus, or whatever was really there, what did we find?” “Good question,” said Syntax. “We may as well see.” With his magic, he undid the ribbon that tied the scroll up and set it aside. He then unfurled the scroll, and Cookie stood up to see it for herself. The scroll contained, not a list of text detailing any sort of historical record, but what seemed to be a letter, written in the text of the Eastern Unicorns. Syntax’s horn glowed, and the text translated itself into Ponish. “You who have found this scroll: It seems our goals were alike, so to you, I must offer my sincerest condolences for the time wasted in getting this far. The treasure you sought is now mine, but I will not leave you empty-hoofed. The vessel in which this scroll has been placed is a priceless artifact dating to the days of the Eastern Unicorns, whose assistance greatly aided the defenses of the tomb guarding the true treasure. Consider it a consolation prize, and my way of saying ‘Congratulations’ for reaching it, and not being fooled by the gaudy trinkets that lay before it.”  Here, Cookie blushed. The dragon statue and hourglass were still on her mind. “It will take more than a cunning wit and determination to outdo me, however. I have promised never to rest until the unclaimed wonders of Equestria are in my possession. Savor this victory, for it shall not be repeated. Catch me if you can…” In place of a signature was the same symbol as before. Cookie and Syntax stared at the message, then at each other. “Well, there you have it,” said Syntax, rolling the scroll up again. “We’ve uncovered the aftermath of a heist from The Mark.” “Wow,” Cookie breathed, running a hoof through her bangs. “That’s insane. I feel like we oughta tell somepony, but...what do you think?” Syntax thought for a moment. “Let’s keep this between ourselves for now,” he said. “A chance find like this is a rare thing, but if we go spreading word about it, it will turn into a media nightmare.” “Right,” said Cookie, nodding. “I don’t wanna have to bother with talking to the papers anyway. Not this time. But in the meantime…” Here she drew in the jar close to her pudgy side with her magic, grinning broadly. “This baby’s coming with me to Curios,” she said, proudly. “What a find: an authentic Eastern Unicorn jar, and from Mistmane’s time, as far as my magic can judge. This’ll be worth a fortune, way more than Beryl’s recycled tiara pendants or whatever she’s turning that old goblet into.” “I’m sure she’d never agree,” said Syntax, dryly. “Ah, who cares what she thinks?” said Cookie, dismissively. “She can keep all her baubles and bangles, but I know where the real valuable stuff is: with me at my shop!”  She actually hugged the vase in her glee, kicking her hind legs with a giddy squeal. Syntax rolled his eyes, though not without a smile. “Of course,” Cookie went on, “I’m probably gonna keep the shop closed for another day, and rest off this adventure, cuz I am beat!” As proof, she flopped back into her chair with a sigh, the vase plunked down beside her. Syntax chuckled. “Well, at least one of us got something out of this excursion,” he said. “I’m just happy to see you back to your usual self, after what you went through in that tomb.” “Thanks, Tax,” said Cookie, smiling. “I feel like I’ve learned a lot from this experience.” “Such as?” Syntax prompted. “Such as,” Cookie said, her ears drooping meekly, “I shouldn’t be so impatient to charge headlong into something when there might be good reason to wait.” “A valuable lesson,” said Syntax, nodding. “Anything else?” “Yeah,” said Cookie, putting a hoof to her belly. “The ones who made that tomb really had a grudge against bigger ponies, if that’s how they built their doors. Like that was gonna stop ‘Tough Cookie’, though. There’s never been a door I couldn’t bust my way through, no matter how small they make it. Just try and keep me back!” “Tough and stubborn, that’s what you are,” said Syntax, with a shake of the head, that wasn’t without a slight smile nonetheless. “No argument there, but I wouldn’t want you any other way.” Cookie grinned, then settled back in her seat, one hoof clasped protectively around her new precious vase, as Syntax turned back to the helm, keeping their ship on course for Canterlot. The End