//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: Guardians of the Black Pyramid // Story: Daring Do and the Iron Pyramid // by Unwhole Hole //------------------------------// Ponies, as equines, did not have knuckles. If Daring Do had been born a creature which did posses such an anatomical appendage, though, hers would have been white. She was a Pegasus. She had spent most of her life flying. Never before had she realized just how terrifying it could be. The plane shook. Not because of the storms raging around it, though. It had done that on the ground too. The storms, though, were not much help, especially when parts of the vehicle occasionally flew off it. And yet, as they moved, Daring understood why it was necessary. At least in an academic sense. The desert stretched out below her, a vast sea of nothingness. Dunes of sand, and the occasional swirls of vast things moving beneath the surface, following the shadow of the rickety biplane. The air was hot, thin, and dusty, but most importantly swirling about them. Cretin, despite wearing a pair of goggles so scratched that his derpy eyes probably could see next to nothing, flew with a level of practiced expertise that Daring scarcely had imagined such a stallion could muster. That, or pure instinct. Or perhaps dumb luck. There were channels in the storm, patterns cast by its motion over the dunes and the occasional curved, rocky crags that jutted out of the desert and seemed to rise out of the dusty air like specters. Cretin knew every one of them, and knew which path to take. He knew how to fly below the storm when he needed to, and when he had to pass through it he knew how not to get lost. The noise was almost unbearable, and then, suddenly, the engine fell to a dull roar. Daring Do felt her breath catch, sure that it would be her last, but then saw that they were not falling to the rocks and dunes below. Her Pegasus instincts then informed her that they had struck an updraft. Cretin had cut his engine partially to keep them from stalling—or run out of fuel, possibly. Daring took a breath. Below her, somewhat in the fuselage, Wun was coiled around her feet, asleep and purring. Daring was unsure if it was a stress response or if her sister really was that certain of her own immortality. She was, at the very least, helping to plug an exhaust leak. “Hey,” called Daring Do, over the noise of the engine. “Huh? What? Where?” Cretin released the controls, causing the plane to dip. Daring Do felt her stomach turn, but he grabbed them. “May Celestia poke you in your down with a stick!” he cried. “Don’t tell me there’s hay unless you actually have it!” Daring took another dusty breath. “How many times have you made this trip?” “I don’t know numbers! And I only trip because somepony keeps moving my coffee table! Well, I keep moving my coffee table...” He stared out at the dust, and made a minor course correction just as the air wavered with turbulence. “Lots of times,” he said, guessing. “I have friends there.” “Friends?” “Yes! Friends are important! Unless you’re Celestia and can use all the Elements at once! I didn’t like them at first, but they’re not like the others. I think they skipped over that part, that’s my guess.” “Are you insane, or do you just have brain damage?” “I’m immortal. Also the drain bramage. They said that would happen.” The plane dipped again, dropping into a different path of air where the tailwind was not so severe. “What’s down there?” called Daring, over the noise of the engine. “In the south?” Cretin shrugged. “Big pyramid. I don’t like it. It’s looks back at you when you look at it. They don’t like it either. I think they like it less than I do.” The plane began to slide upward. The sand below had turned from a dull color to a disturbing red—and was quickly giving way to rocks of an equally disturbing color, a nameless and indeterminate near-black. “What...what is that?” “The mountain range. We’re almost there. Now comes the interesting part.” “Interesting? Why interesting?” “Well, we have to get down there somehow.” “Why?” Daring Do felt herself stiffen. “Is their landing strip okay?” She felt her heart race. “Please tell me they have a landing strip!” “Well...that’s not really the problem.” “Then what is?!” Cretin turned around. “I never learned to land.” Daring Do felt her heart drop. “Wh..what?” “They only trained me to start the plane, and then point it at Nightmare Moon and try to ram it into her stupid alicorn face! Why would I ever need to learn to land? Are you telling me my education isn’t good enough?!” “YES!” “Well you’re the one who got in a plane with a guy named ‘Impact Crater’!” “Your name is IMPACT CRATER?! I thought you were named Cretin!” “Cretin? No, that’s just what that horde of orange-scented weirdos call me on account of the iodine. Seriously, use your thinking squelcher! What kind of a parent would name their kid ‘Cretin’?” “What kind of parents would name their kid ‘Impact Crater’?!” “Why are you yelling?” asked Wun, poking her head up from the inside of the fuselage. She looked around. “Are we there yet?” “Not yet!” shouted Cretin, pulling back on the stick. It broke off in his hooves. “Correction! We’re about to be there, real quick!” “Wun! We have to jump! NOW!” “I shall not. There is gravity out there.” “There’s gravity in HERE, and it’s about to get us!” The plane tilted downward, facing the ground. The dust storm grew even stronger as it lost control, and it began to spiral. Daring do sat up, trying to get a sense of which way was up. If she jumped, she could probably support Wun, but she would need to know a course. The spiral would likely throw her out, and she had no way to know if there were rocks our mountains. Compensating would be almost impossible. She did not have a chance to make the decision. With barely an impressive sound but more of a weak, defeated thump, the plane landed propeller-first in the sand. Green light flashed, and Daring Do suddenly found herself thrown forward and onto the sand. Instead of being smashed against it, the bubble rebounded, bouncing several times before coming to a rest, Daring Do sliding down the inside surface, her entire body shaking from exertion and terror. Wun, suspended in an inverted position in the center of her own bubble spell, looked down at her. “I cannot help but wonder if I was as ridiculously anxious at your age.” She popped the bubble, turning over gracefully and landing on her feet. “You will grow very wrinkly very quickly if you keep worrying about small things like dying.” Daring Do, now laying face-down in the red sand, muttered into it. “You could have warned me you were going to bubble.” “I bubble when and where I chose to bubble.” Wun dusted herself off. “And now I have had a pleasant six-hour nap. Shall we retrieve the pilot?” Daring Do sat up. “Sweet Celestia, I forgot about him.” She ran to the area where the broken wreck of the plane now sat, smoldering in its own sadness and leaking fluids. Cretin had been ejected with substantial force and had landed several yards away. He was buried up to his waist in sand, his rear legs flailing in silence. “How are you even alive?! HOW?!” Daring Do grabbed one of his legs and tried to pull him out. He was embedded firmly, though, and Wun had to use her magic to extricate him. When Cretin emerged, he coughed out several mouthfuls of sand. Then, with much greater force, coughed harder and produced a half-full bottle of punch which he promptly caught. He smiled, drinking it. “I didn’t even get hit with the propeller this time. That’s always the worst. It always aims for the same spot.” “I don’t want to know!” shouted Daring Do. “Why are you yelling!” “What is wrong with you!?” “Several things, clearly,” said Wun, dropping the stallion into the dust. “Alas, we do seem to be here. Or relatively close to here.” Daring looked around. The air was thick with sand and dust, but it was oddly still—and oddly dark. “What...what’s wrong with this?” she asked, looking up at the sky. “We didn’t leave that late, and the dust isn’t that thick. Why can’t I see the sun?” “Because the sun doesn’t come this far,” said Cretin, pointing. Daring Do followed his hoof to the horizon, where a thin crimson line was visible on the far side of a vast range of mountains, barely visible through the dust. “It’s always dark here. Especially at night.” “Why...how is that even possible?” “You may file a complaint with the department of Celestia,” snapped Cretin. “I do not handle that department anymore! Not since...the accident...” “We’re not alone,” said Wun. Daring Do groaned. “Why does it keep getting worse?” She heard the sound of mechanisms being cocked, and the sudden noise of cloth ruffling. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness in the shadow of the black mountains, she saw figures emerge from the dust. At first, they seemed monstrous and alien, but as they drew nearer, Daring Do knew the situation was even worse. They were not monsters. They were griffons. The soldiers, clad in various uniforms taken from the kit of various nations and various sources, their flags stripped and replaced with their own crudely-sewn patches, stepped forward. Some of them held swords, but most held blunderbusses of various sorts. Daring Do recoiled instinctively. Although the griffons did not object to such things, as a pony firearms made her deeply and profoundly uneasy. The griffons stood for a moment, and then one pushed through, nearly throwing the others out of his way. “In the name of your mother-hen’s own unscoooped litter, why don’t you clear me a path? I hope a unicorn gives each of your mother’s a poke, you pullets!” He emerged from the group, stepping toward Wun with impunity. He stopped only a moment to shake his fist at the rest of them. “And I mean the SAME unicorn! Because that’s what you all deserve!” Daring stared at the griffon. She was not sure why. He looked rather unpleasant. He was, she supposed, vulturine in character. In any event, the years had not been kind to him, and his face and head had balded almost completely, save for a few long feathers that still clung to the back. This was only compounded by one of his eyes being badly scarred and clouded. He wore an Assyrian fez, a sign that on a donkey would have signified an officer, and a uniform with bandoleers thrown over the front. “For the sake of your own slapped pony hams, do you have any idea how long we’ve been waiting?!” “Captain Gruff,” said Wun, tilting her head slightly. She sounded rather amused. Daring Do gaped. “Wait, you know them?” “Lower your blunderholes, you bunch of fat cocks!” yelled the captain to the others. “She’s the one paying us! Nobody put a hole in her! Nobody even TALK to her, because you lot’ll say something right stupid if you open your darn crooked beaks! Don’t even look at her!” “These are the mercenaries I hired to secure my investment,” said Wun, calmly. “Supposedly some of the very best in the business.” “Best? Why, I’ve been in more wars than you could count on all your hooves!” “Four?” “NO! More than that!” He pointed to himself. “I fought in the third Assyrian border conflict! FOUR times! On both sides!” “Both?” asked Daring. Gruff released a wheeze that was probably meant as laughter and rubbed his index claw against his thumb. “Because the Equestrian’s took a little longer to figure out exactly how much good help is supposed to cost. I’ve been fighting in wars since before you both were alive.” “I doubt that,” said Wun. “Regardless, you are here. And not guarding my pyramid.” Gruff’s expression darkened. “Well. Yes. That’s the problem. And...sorry for my language, miss. But if you follow me, I’ll brief you.” Gruff started walking. Wun looked to Daring Do, and then motioned for her to follow him. Daring, though hesitant, did so. “Now, see, they took us by surprise,” muttered Gruff, clearly displeased. “Came out in the night. Attacked the camp. For the sake of my mother’s bald face, I frankly hadn’t thought they were even real. That they all gave up and went back to Tartarus or wherever they came from.” “Who attacked you?” asked Daring Do, suddenly both much more apprehensive and interested. “Locals. Beyond that, don’t ask, because I don’t know.” “I had hired you to protect the archeological team,” said Wun, slowly. “And that we darn well did, thank you very much! We had to retreat. They overran us. A total ambush. We barricaded ourselves on the skiff. Tried to take it back, but they did something to it. Pulled the engine. Darn their mother’s soups, we didn’t even see them do it!” He paused. “I think they don’t want us to leave.” “Is the team intact?” “Limp-wristed eggheads, the lot. Sure. But shaken. For the price you’re paying, I won’t leave a pony behind. Not even the fat ones.” He paused and looked out into the dust. In the distance, Daring Do could see the mass of the skiff, itself keeling to one side and embedded in the deep-red sand. Several griffons had been posted around it, staring through their goggles into the mist. Waiting. “They don’t like the guns,” continued Gruff. “A few blank loads and maybe some wooden shot keeps them off, but I don’t know for how long.” “Why not use real shot?” Daring gasped. “Wun!” Gruff frowned deeply. “Never tell them I said this,” he said, quietly, “but there’s some things I can’t be paid to do. That’s why I’ve made it this far.” “I can increase the price.” “It’s not a matter of the price, darn it, it’s a matter of results. Sure, we could send lead into that dust. Maybe even wing one. But there’s more of them than us, and if you kick off a war, you can kiss that darn freak pyramid goodbye.” Wun stared at him for a long while. “I admire your prudence,” she said, at last. “What do you recommend I do, captain?” “Above my pay grade, miss. You’re the boss here.” Wun smiled. “Another correct answer. How I do enjoy you, even if you are hideous.” Gruff smiled. “To one of you soft horse-folk, sure. But hens love a battle scar or two. Dragon ladies too.” Daring Do shuddered. Wun pointed her horn toward one particular direction. “The center. The pyramid. It is that way.” “How could you know--” “Yeah,” sighed Gruff. “And frankly, it’s a crock, I tell you. Ugly thing. And that’s from me.” Wun hummed to herself. A slight, old tune. “Yes, then. Please call some of your griffons. I intend to address these...interlopers.” “You heard her, you soft and fluffy pullets!” cried Gruff, suddenly loud enough to make Daring Do jump. “I know you’ve been straining your freakish bird ear-holes! Vacation’s over, time to get back to work!” “Yes captain!” they called, quickly taking flight and joining him. Daring hesitantly followed Wun, as always. She was not sure where this was going, but did not see much other choice. “Did any of you keep an inventory past my packing manifest?” “Geiger!” A distinctly psittacine griffon dressed in faded fatigues and glasses so thick his eyes were invisible behind them appeared at Wun’s side, passing her a clipboard. Wun took it in her magic, her large eyes quickly scanning the contents. “You keep excellent records.” “What do you expect?” huffed Gruff. “We’re griffons, not earth ponies. If something’s valuable, you can bet your tuckus we counted it!” Wun passed the manifest back to Geiger. “Is it current?” “Yes, ma’am,” he said, largely through his large beak. “Excellent. Now I have leverage.” Daring Do did not understand this, but did not have time to question it. Suddenly the dust around them cleared as they stepped free of the storm. Upon seeing it, Daring Do felt her jaw drop. The vista before her was grand and terrible beyond anything she could ever have dreampt or conceived, even in all the books she had poured through in perpetration for her arrival, both in Singapone and in her hotel room. The storm circled slowly around them, moving in a vast ring. The mountains that Daring had landed on were part of a vast range, and at the lower altitudes the black crags parted into what her mind conceived of as a great crater. At the very bottom, lower than the surrounding desert by far, sat a depression of blood-red sand. And, in the distance, miles away, Daring could see it. Her whole body immediately shivered, although she was not sure with what emotion. In the center of those darkened blood-red sands stood something monolithic and as black as a moonless night. She was so enraptured by the sight of the crater-valley and its contents that she failed to notice the sudden emergence of silent figures from the rocks that adorned the higher levels. With barely any sunlight, they seemed to come as if from the shadows themselves, or from the dust that permeated the air. Equine figures moving noiselessly, clad fully in drifting robes, their faces only marked by narrow goggles and crude, primitive respirators fashioned to resemble gaping maws. By the time Daring Do noticed them, they had already drawn close. Ominous, terrible figures, each carrying weapons of various sorts. Spears made from blackened wood and tipped with copper were the most common, although the largest of them, their apparent leader, wore a scabbard on his back. It was not empty; the large golden loop of a sword hilt poked from the end, next to his head. The leader stopped before Wun as the others closed in. The griffons gripped their blunderbusses tightly, waiting for an order or for any provocation. Only then did Daring Do fully comprehend the tension, and how badly she had just wandered into it. Wun, however, seemed only mildly bemused. “Do you speak Equestrian?” she asked. “We speak it well enough, foreigner,” replied the leader. His voice was something like a quiet rasp, distorted even more so through his mask. He had an accent completely unlike that of the Southern Equestrians. Daring Do had never heard one like it. It was as though speaking were gravely difficult for him, and required great effort. “You attacked my employees.” “We defended ourselves from incursion, outlander. The sounds of their guns hurts us, but does not afear us. Not this well.” “And yet you damaged my skiff. To prevent them from leaving. Perhaps you intended to make sure they never did?” Daring saw the griffons gripping their guns more tightly. “To prevent them from retrieving more. More reinforcements. More guns.” “And yet I am here.” “Yes. How is unclear to us.” “That was me, your Honor!” cried Cretin, causing both Daring Do and several griffons to jump. He had apparently been following them the entire time, and apparently had not fallen down or gotten stuck for the duration of the journey. “ “Kraton! Even you would betray us?!” hissed the leader, removing his mask. The pony beneath was apparently severely displeased—if he even was a pony at all. His coat was exceedingly dark, almost black, and his eyes desperately pale yellow with thin, vertical slits for pupils. As he snarled at Cretin, Daring Do saw that some of his teeth were pointed. “Thestrals,” she said, suddenly. “You’re thestrals!” At her word, many more suddenly appeared, emerging from the rocks. Daring Do suddenly found the griffons outnumbered ten to one by ponies who she now saw bore dark, featherless wings. Even with their firearms, there was no way they stood a chance if this went bad. “You wanted here, didn’t you?” said Cretin. The leader growled, annoyed. Then his yellow eyes turned to Wun. “I have been waiting. For you.” “That was a terrible mistake, I am afraid.” “I am the Avatar of Honor. The ones you see here?” he pointed to the thestrals around him, and as he did they removed their masks, revealing their equally dark faces. “We are many, and many more than this. Had we wanted, yes. This could have been ended. But we are not barbarians, as you are. We seek only your word, though the word of an outlander is of little worth.” “Concerning?” “This place,” he said, taking a step forward and agitating the griffons greatly. “This palace is not for you. For countless centuries, we have stood guard over It, and for countless more we shall stand. This is our ancestral land. And you shall depart from it. Or face destruction.” Daring Do gulped, and looked to Wun. To her horror, Wun was smiling. “No,” she said. “It is not something you have a say in. You will only be given one chance.” “I see. So you are trying to renege on our agreement?” A near-silent sound moved through the group. “We will make no deal, no agreement. We will not sacrifice our ancient pride, not to you or to any!” “Really.” Wun took a step forward. This seemed to agitate the thestrals greatly. The absurdity of a tall, narrow mare in fancy clothing stepping toward them with total impunity. “I do not expect the terms were too complicated for you. My emissaries communicated our terms with your leader, and the terms were accepted. I dispatched food and medical supplies to you. In exchange for ownership of this land.” “You cannot simply own it--” “Indeed, I can,” said Wun, suddenly leaning forward and causing several thestrals to jump back. “Because I, in fact, DO. According to the inventory, you already took the medicine and food.” “Medicine for diseases you foreigners brought to us!” “NO. Medicine for deficiencies brought on by intergenerational starvation. Diseases accelerated by the fact that what little fertility this land might have had five centuries ago is now long depleted.” Daring Do looked out at the crowd of thestrals. While initially they had seemed terrifying, it was mostly out of the surprise of it. Now that she looked more closely, she saw that their frightening robes were in fact frayed and tattered, and the ponies beneath were astoundingly thin and sickly. Many were ill, shaking quietly and barely able to support their spears. “Then we will return it,” snapped Honor. “You can’t,” said Daring Do, suddenly. “Can’t you see? You’re sick, you need our help--” “We need NOPONY!” bellowed Honor, his voice cracking and breaking into a range beyond pony hearing. “We do not need your charity, and we do not want you defying our sacred laws, pillaging our land for your own gain! We only want to be left alone!” “I do not think you understand the situation,” said Wun, calmly. “I understand it better than you ever could. This land, it is not meant for you, or your kind.” “Again. Moot.” Wun took another step forward. Daring Do knew her sister, and sensed that something was wrong. She always appeared calm, and nearly always was. At this point in time, she was most certainly not. “You took the supplies. You completed the deal. The bargain was struck. I do not accept returns. I own this land now. And you keeping me from it? That makes you a thief.” Honor gasped, his hoof reaching toward his sword. “How dare you--” “You are attempting to steal something which is MINE. Something I PAID FOR, something that belongs to ME and only ME.” Wun’s pupils began to narrow, and Daring Do felt a horrid vibration moving through the air. “You are attempting to steal from me. And that is something I cannot EVER allow.” The air was suddenly filled with screams. Daring Do jumped, seeing several thestrals lifted off the ground, their wings contorted and held in green magic. Honor gasped. “Purity! Curiosity, Adorableness!” He pivoted back to Wun. “You fiend! How dare you--” “Perhaps if I removed these rediculous wings, you could pass as earth ponies? You could finally integrate into proper civilization, rather than living in a hole as a group of savages?” Her magic tightened, and the thestrals cried out. Several lunged forward, but their primitive spears splintered, their copper heads igniting in green fire and melting to slag. Wun took another step forward. More thestrals rose, crying out and struggling desperately as their wings were pulled harder and harder. “Wun!” cried Daring Do, running forward. “Stop, you’re taking it too--” Daring suddenly felt a firm grasp around her own wings, and then a pressure that quickly rose to pain, directly on the joints where they connected to her body. Wun’s eyes slowly turned to her, and her lips parted in something far more terrible than any smile. The thestrals screamed at the sight of her teeth, how they were abnormally long and needle-like, more far more ichthian than equine. “Daring. You have NO SAY in my ownership of these ponies. You know that.” “Wun, calm down, we can still talk this out--” “Why? I have no use for them. I tried to be polite. The pyramid, and everything within, belongs to ME. Any obstacle in my way...” She slowly turned her head and fang-filled mouth toward Honor, and now her grimace did truly become a smile. “...well, dirty little thieves deserve to be punished, do they not?” “You may try. We, likewise, tried to be polite.” He put his hoof through the loop of his blade and pulled it free. It was not made of steel, but some unnamed dark metal, the long and straight blade inscribed with bizarre and nauseating runes carved deeply into its surface. Runes that glowed with deep internal light. The situation had decayed quickly, and Daring Do was unsure what to do—and doubted there was anything that could be done. Her only option was to close her eyes and try to block out the screams. It was a familiar feeling, and the one she hated the most. Then something appeared. Dropping from the sky, several narrow shadows. Their owners touched to the ground, their hooves silent on the stony ground. At their front stood a thestral stallion of immense age, and at his size a mare of unnatural size, her head mostly covered with a hood. On her back she bore a sword not unlike Honor’s, although much larger and broader and strung through rings instead of a primitive scabbard. “Honor!” cried the elderly stallion. “Stop this madness at once!” Honor turned sharply and chirped wildly. The stallion responded, chittering back in the same language, much of it beyond Daring Do’s range of hearing. At some points it hurt to listen to; they were no doubt screaming at each other, the large mare occasionally interjecting coarsely. “You decrepit fool!” screamed Honor, suddenly in Equestrian. He pointed his sword at the stallion, and the thestrals around him gasped in disbelief. Although the motion carried no significance to Daring Do, she supposed that to them it was an incredible insult. The large mare’s eyes narrowed as her own hoof went to her blade. The elderly stallion, though, stood firm, his pale blue eyes not once leaving Honor’s. “You’ve sold us out to these foreign devils! You’ve thrown away everything of meaning, everything we have suffered for! Every tradition that defines our very being! Have you no shame?!” “I have done what I had to do,” replied the stallion. “Or does your pride truly blind you to the nature of the alternative?” Honor shrieked something in their native language, and then took flight. Several of his compatriots joined him, but many simply faded into the shadows, scattering every way. The majority, though, simply stood, either dumbfounded or hanging their heads in humiliation. The old stallion stepped forward and looked up to Daring Do, his assistant not once leaving his side. Her face was similar to Honor’s, both in structure and in expression. “Would you please release them?” he asked. Wun tilted her head, as if confused. Then her magic flickered out, and the ponies she had captured fell to the ground below, their friends helping them to their feet and away. Many of them were crying. The ones Wun had targeted were almost all children. “Thank you,” sighed the stallion. “Although I have no right to, I beseech you, please forgive Honor. His actions do not stand for us all. I am the Avatar of Wisdom.” “Yes,” said Wun. “I know your name. Tarsus spoke of you.” “Your emissary. He spoke highly of you.” “He has to. I hatched him.” “I am so sorry that you and I had to meet in such a manner.” “I purchased this land from you, fairly, and the rights to the Pyramid. Yet your kind attacked my operation. What trickery is this?” “We had no intention of letting it get this far. But his virtue is tempered with pride, and his passion for our traditions strong.” “Then why did you not stop him before he slowed my operations?” Wisdom stood still for a moment, as if considering. “Because his opinions reflect those of the majority of us.” He motioned to the mare beside him. His right hoof was covered in wrappings, although the left was not. “Dignity and her cousins understand the necessity of this arrangement, but they are few of us. We waited for you. We could not have stood on our own otherwise.” “I see. They do not obey your command.” “I am not their leader.” “Then what are you?” “I am Wisdom. The eldest here. The new Wisdom awaits us in a matter of months, to continue in our line. But she is yet to be chosen. And...” He paused, and then sighed. “I must do what I have to to ensure that her life will persist, as mine has. To continue one role, some must be sacrificed.” “Meaning?” “The meaning of it does not matter. But I give you my word, that our kind will not bother you again.” “I do not need your word to ensure that. As you are aware.” “Yes. I know you think that.” His expression darkened again. “And if Honor challenges you, be warned that he is strong. You may fight him. But to touch the innocent is a sign of grave weakness.” Wun smiled. “You yourself consider pride a sin. Why would it bother me if you consider me weak, so long as my goals are accomplished?” Dignity sneered. “What manner of life is that, then?” “You would not understand. Your lifetimes are so very tiny. But I am not here to hurt ponies. I desire none of you. I am simply here to take what I rightfully own.” “Do as you please,” said Wisdom. He bowed, and then turned to leave. Daring Do only then realized that she had been released, and ran after them. “Wait! Mr. Wisdom, sir, I have questions! I’m interested in your culture, if I could just--” Daring was stopped in her tracks as a wide black blade sliced within millimeters of her nose, removing part of her mane in the process. “Do not dare to speak to us,” snared Dignity, the pony holding the blade. “My brother’s opinions are ones I share, and deeply. You have given us a choice where the only path is humiliation, and we shall forever despise you for it. Take his actions as a warning. This place is not meant for you. Do not speak to us ever again. Your face makes me sick.” She flicked the blade around its ring, gracefully sliding it back into its rings. Then she took flight with Wisdom, and in seconds the entirety of the thestral force seemed to have vanished. “Ignore them,” said Wun. “Words have no meaning. What the lesser think is not worth its weight in air. The only thing that should ever concern you is success.” Daring looked down at the pyramid and sighed. In the depths of her being, she hated the fact that she knew that Wun was right. They had not come to be loved, and they never would be. They had come for the Iron Pyramid.