Ditzy Doo thought the Foal Mountain Range was a beautiful place to fly. Snowcapped peaks and lush evergreen slopes stretched for miles upon miles. From towering spires to verdant foothills, the Range was an unbroken line of alpine magnificence.
Unfortunately, after flying for hours the mountains all started looking alike. That was a significant problem for a pegasus born with a sense of direction that might generously be called ‘poor.’
“I don’t understand,” Ditzy said to herself. “I should have found the castle by now.”
She reached into the pocket of her mail carrier’s vest to pull out her map, and inadvertently destabilized the heavy box she carried on her back.
“Whoops!” shouted the grey pegasus, letting go of her map to grab for the box before it could slide off her back and plummet several hundred feet to the forest-covered mountainside below. After a few fumbles she caught the box, then nearly dropped it again when she realized that her map was now drifting lazily in the breeze. She flew up and chomped down on the map with her teeth, only to nearly lose the box again when it shifted in her hooves.
Ditzy grinned when she managed to keep hold of the box and the map… then yelped when she plowed into a cloud and dropped both.
One dive, a few panicked moments of searching, two broken tree limbs, and one half-torn map later, she decided to take the box and land on a rocky outcropping that looked like it probably wouldn’t give way if she landed on it too hard. The rocks held, and a relieved Ditzy took a few moments to study the map and try to get her bearings.
Consulting her map, her written directions, and her compass quickly cleared things up.
“Yup. I’m lost,” Ditzy Doo said with clarity.
This was not terribly surprising to Ditzy. After all, she got turned around in Ponyville sometimes. She’d warned her boss that sending her to find a secluded mountain castle in the Foal Range would probably take her a little longer than the two-day shipping guarantee.
Unfortunately, Ditzy was the only mailpony at the Ponyville office who could make the journey. This was partially because she was about the only flier on staff with the stamina to handle the distance, and partially because she was the only pegasus at the Ponyville office with, as her boss put it, “The freakish earth pony strength” to handle delivering a breadbox-sized block of lead by herself.
What does somepony want with a breadbox-sized block of lead, anyway? she thought.
Ditzy folded the map, stowed it in her vest, resituated the box on her back, and took off. “Well, at least it’s a pretty place to be lost,” she told herself as she flew in search of the castle that was supposed to be around her. As the minutes wore on with no sign of civilization, however, Ditzy felt her normally cheery outlook fading. “I miss only having to deliver near Ponyville,” she mumbled aloud.
In fact, Ditzy missed a lot about the way things used to be. Back when most things she worried about were relatively minor: Did she get the right address on that last delivery? Did she pack enough muffins to last her through deliveries? Would the magical monstrosity rampaging through Ponyville make her miss her delivery deadline? Was she really sure she got the address right on that last delivery?
At the time, it had seemed like a lot to manage. Now, she found herself missing that simplicity.
Life started getting complicated about when Tirek showed up, Ditzy decided. At the time it had seemed like a pretty standard scenario: ancient threat from a thousand-ish years ago goes on an evil magic rampage, all conventional means of defeating him fail, and, just when all hope seems lost, Twilight and her friends have a great insight about friendship and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. Just another Tuesday in Ponyville.
Sure, Ditzy ‘volunteering for a desperate pegasi militia and fighting a doomed delaying action against the aforementioned ancient threat’ and ‘getting her magic sucked out by said threat’ were all a little outside the norm, but, hey. Ponyville. Stuff happened.
But it wasn’t ‘just another Tuesday,’ thought Ditzy. That was when things started changing.
First, it had been a note half-buried in the newspapers, something she probably wouldn’t have noticed if Time Turner hadn’t brought it up one day over lunch: The Crown had announced the ‘EUP Guard Modernization Act.’ Among other things, the Act sought to make a new generation of firearms to replace the old muskets, which were so outdated and slow that the Guard barely used them.
Apparently, having thousands of ponies lose their magic and thus have few options with which to defend themselves had made princesses and parliament want a fallback option for national defense. After having her magic sucked out of her while she was a good thirty feet off the ground, Ditzy found the idea of a fallback quite sensible.
Time Turner hadn’t been so sure. “I’m a pony of science, Ditzy my dear,” the eccentric adventurer had said at the time. “Science ought to be about improving lives, not about taking them.” Though the mechanics of the new guns intrigued him, he’d made the decision to only help design protective equipment, not weapons.
A few months later, Ditzy started hearing about some mean griffons who thought that griffons were better than every other creature. To prove their point, they were making some new country called the ‘Unified Griffon Dominion.’ Ditzy thought that was silly – saying that one thinking species was better than the others, and sillier still to ask other griffon countries to join up just so they could all think the same silly thing.
Then the Dominion had started making other griffons join, making other creatures leave, and hurting anyone who tried to stop them, and Ditzy started thinking that ‘scary’ was a better word than ‘silly.’
But it would all be okay, she’d thought, because Princess Twilight and her friends were on the case! They were gonna help the griffons be friends with everyone else! They were gonna fix things, like they always did! Sure, it had been scary, everypony talking about a war coming, but lots of things were scary around Ponyville, and things always worked out!
They worked out because Princess Twilight was the nicest pony around! She made friends with everyone – ponies, draconequuses, griffons, dragons, even cross-eyed mailmares who flew north when they were supposed to fly south, who crashed through her castle wall with a late night delivery that may or may not have been damaged in the crash, or who once dropped an anvil, a piano, and several other unnecessarily heavy items on her head! Princess Twilight was the Best Princess, and with her friends by her side, things would turn out great, no matter what!
But then, things hadn’t worked out. Princess Twilight and her friends had gone to a big Summit to make friends with the Dominion, and then she was… she was…
Ditzy wiped a hoof across her eyes and sniffled. Why? she thought. Why would anyone hurt such a nice mare like Twilight Sparkle?
Why did they hurt my friend?
The war had started after that. Now, everything was different. So many ponies were gone, off fighting the war. The ones that stayed had a war of their own – the ‘Home Front’ they called it. Growing food, making uniforms, collecting surplus metal to melt down for guns and armor.
Everypony was helping – Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, even Fluttershy were all helping the War Effort, either on the Front or on the Home Front. Time Turner was so busy in his workshop doing his bit that Ditzy hardly ever saw…
And here I am, delivering packages while they’re all doing the stuff that matters! Because if I tried to help I’d— She wiped another hoof across her eyes. Why do I always have to mess things up? Why can’t my eyes be normal? I want to help! Why can’t I do something? Why can’t I—
“Enough of that, Ditzy!” she said aloud to herself, shaking her head to clear the bad thoughts. “You’re helping too, remember? You’re delivering the mail so all the other strong fliers can go fight. Ponies still need their mail. It’s still important, especially with nopegasi being around. I’m still helping! I’m still helping Time Turner! I’m still helping Twilight!”
The only way I can.
By delivering a box of lead to a castle in the Foal Mountains.
For some reason.
Ditzy sighed and rounded another peak that looked just like the last one, wishing for a chance to make a real difference.
Daring Do thought the Castle of Dunnhollow was infinitely more pleasant to sneak about in than the last ancient structure in Northeastern Equestria she’d had to sneak through. The Hollow Shades had been an interesting setting for an adventure, but the traps the cultists had laid there had broken her wing (again), which nearly resulted in Ahuizotl getting his hands on the Ring of Unnecessarily Oversized Fireballs.
And I didn’t even get a good story out of it, she thought with a grimace, because the fans thought the traps were ‘overplayed,’ the cultists were ‘generic,’ and the name of the Ring was ‘lazy.’
Well, it was lazy, but that’s hardly my fault!
Dunnhollow, by contrast, was an architectural masterpiece, magically preserved to be a prime example of the Neuschwansteed style – gothic, dark, towering, and angular, filled with hoof-woven tapestries, imported black and white tile, dark wood, and priceless art of many forms and eras.
Even the traps were gratifying – dart launchers concealed in paintings, halberd-toting suits of armor that came to life and attacked if you stepped on the wrong patch of tile or carpet, magically-charged doors that smote the unwary in a variety of inventive ways, and (Daring was almost giddy to see one hanging in the Great Hall) at least one fully-functional Third Century Chandelier of Vengeful Immolation.
So rare! If only I’d had time to examine it up close before… you know… using it.
Unfortunately, time was a commodity in short supply. Due to the heavy enchantments placed upon Dunnhollow Castle, was seldom possible to even see the place, much less access it. She’d hoped that the narrow window of possibility, combined with the near-mythical nature of the place, would allow her to get in, find the L’Astuce the Mad Artificer’s Chamber, and get out without having to outrun the competition.
And boy was I ever disappointed, she thought grimly as she wrapped a bandage around her wing and tried not to bleed all over the priceless Fifth Century rug of the bedchamber she was hiding in.
Why is it always the wing? thought Daring with familiar irritation. Why not my leg or my ear or something, just to mix things up?
The sound of voices outside the bedchamber alerted her to the approach of more attackers. Daring quickly scanned the room, analyzing how best to make use of her surroundings. A high-backed chair in the corner let her clamber up onto a bookshelf and then into the shadowy rafters. There she crouched, readied her whip in her teeth, and waited.
It wasn’t long before her patience was rewarded; the door creaked open, preceding the entrance of two thuggish looking griffons. They wore brown uniforms with red armbands bearing the Dominion flag, and carried revolvers in their claws. Daring’s lip curled in disgust. More Talon goons. Looks like the traps aren’t thinning their ranks nearly enough.
“You see her, Gunter?” hissed one griffon to the other as they crept into the room.
“Oh, yes, Gimble,” replied Gunter, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “That’s why I stayed quiet and didn’t shoot anything. Because I saw the filthy sky thief.”
Gimble chuckled cruelly as he moved deeper into the bedchamber. “Well, she won’t be violating the sky any more today; not when Gerhardt clipped her wings.”
Keep talking, featherbrain, smirked Daring as Gimble passed beneath her.
Gunter followed more cautiously. “Yeah, well, then she lured Gerhardt into that trap in the Great Hall!” He shuddered. “Blasted ponies! Who makes a chandelier into a trap that immolates creatures?!” The griffon came closer, almost standing beneath Daring. A little closer, Gunter. A little closer. “When we find her, we’re gonna finish her good and slo—”
Daring dropped on his head; four powerful hooves connected with the force of hammer and smashed him beak-first into the ground. Gimble spun around and swore, “By Talon!”
The pegasus lashed out with her whip, caught him around the wrist, yanked him forward, and delivered a buck to his head that would have made any apple farmer smile. Gimble dropped like a stone, poleaxed.
“Sorry boys,” chuckled Daring as she policed their firearms. “But you can’t take the sky from me.” She poked her head out into the hall and, after ensuring that no other griffons were in the area, stepped out, pulled the door shut behind her, and jammed the latch to lock them in. They probably won’t wake up any time soon, but why take the chance?
Daring resumed her search for a route that would get her to the Mad Artificer’s Chamber, and the prize within, before her enemies. She discarded the pistols in the first obscure place she could find – not because she couldn’t have used the firepower, but she had neither the tools nor the time necessary to change the mechanisms and make the griffon pistols usable for a pony.
I miss the old days, thought Daring as she picked her way across a complex series of tiles to avoid activating the animate suits of armor that loomed on either side. Back when the worst things coming after me were mercenaries, spear-wielding cultists, monsters, and the occasional spells-slinger. Even Ahuizotl was better than this Talon horse pucky.
Things had been getting worse ever since the magical threats to Equestria had started getting big, public, and artifact-related. Foreign governments had wanted to get in on the dangerous-magical-artifact game and sent teams to creatively acquire any and every nasty enchanted whatsit in the book. That meant competition with bigger budgets, more goons, and, eventually, more guns.
Talon was especially dangerous. They were the Dominion’s elite shock troopers – cruel, competent, and burning with zeal for the ‘Griffon Master Race’ horse pucky the Dominion prattled on about. Ruthless killers to the last grif.
Daring was no stranger to culty zealots, but she preferred the days when they didn’t carry modern firearms.
The adventurer reached the far end of the hall without tripping any of the tiles that would activate the animate armors. There she found a T-junction with a hallway to either side and an ornate door in front of her.
“If Dr. Stonecraft’s analysis of the old writings are correct,” she mumbled aloud, “this should open a passage that leads up to the Mad Artificer’s Chamber…” her gaze fell to the puzzle lock – a series of carved wooden slats interlocked to form a detailed picture. “Just have to swap the slats around to the right picture.” Daring examined the slats, rubbing a hoof against her chin. “Hmm, Normane Post-Diaspora artwork by the looks of it. The so-called ‘Argent Betrayal.’ But House Dunnhollow was Equestrian originally. They believed the Argents were patriots, not traitors, so there must be a way to change the picture to cast them as the heroes of the story.” She reached a hoof up to move the first slat—
*BANG!*
— then spat an explitive as the rifle shot shattered the slat she’d been reaching for and knocked several others off the door.
Daring spun and saw a griffon down the hall working the action on his needle rifle, with several others flying up to support him, shouting murderous invectives.
“It’s her!”
“The sky thief!”
“Kill that pony filth!”
“Kill the sky thief!”
“Can’t a girl work in peace?” snarled Daring. She scooped up one of the broken slats and flung it down the hall. It fell well short of the griffons, but hit her intended target:
One of the trapped tiles.
A ripple of magic washed across the armors as they activated, turned, and advanced on the terrified griffons with deadly intent. Not waiting around to see what happened, Daring turned down the left hallway and galloped away, the sounds of gunfire, screaming, and metal on stone ringing out behind her.
“Okay, not a problem,” she panted to herself as she took several twisting turns in an effort to shake any griffons – or armors – that might have given chase. “I’ll just have to find another way to the Chamber… before the bad guys do… even though there are at least a hundred of them and only one of me.” She snorted. “This is what I get for working alone. I can figure out a new route if I can just avoid any more—”
Daring skidded around a corner and found herself muzzle-to-beak with a very shocked griffon and his cohorts.
“—goons,” she finished with a sigh.
The griffon shrieked in rage and swung at her with his talons, but Daring ducked, spun, and bucked him into his fellows. She darted around the corner just in time to avoid a wild pistol shot. “If I get out of this alive,” Daring promised herself bullets zipped past, “I’m buying a six-shooter.”
“Finally!” exclaimed Ditzy, sagging with relief. It had taken hours, she’d gotten turned around just trying to calculate exactly how lost she was, and the package had nearly plummeted to the valley floor on three separate occasions, but she’d done it! She’d found the castle!
At least, she assumed it was the right castle. After all, how many ominous old grey-stone castles could there possibly be in the Foal Mountains?
No, really, how manyominous old grey-stone castles could there be in the Foal Mountains? I actually want to know.
“Oh, I really hope it’s just one,” Ditzy sighed to herself as she winged her way towards her destination.
As it happened, Ditzy approached the castle from the West. Had she approached from the East, she might have seen a zeppelin, moored near the ground and covered with camouflage netting to mask the Talon markings.
“Finally,” groaned Daring Do as she limped up to the puzzle-locked door that guarded the Mad Artificer’s Chamber.
It had taken some doing, shaking the Talon troopers while fending off the castle’s defenses. The powder burns on her leg would probably be tender for a few days, and losing some hairs out of her tail had been thoroughly unpleasant, but she doubted any of the griffons she’d bumped into would be escaping the Versaddle Mirror Trap any time soon. “Seeing multiple versions of yourself for room after room. That’d get old quick.”
She chuckled, then winced at the pressure it put on her bruised ribs. After I get the six-shooter, the second thing I’m doing if I live through this is taking a vacation to a hot springs. “Let’s just get this over with,” she grumbled.
Daring reached up to the door to begin moving the slats… only for the door to softly creak open at the touch of her hoof. “What the hay?” she whispered.
The room was dimly lit, but there was a glow as of magic deeper in, nestled in the midst of bookcases, tables bearing scientific instruments, and the various bric-a-brac of an artificer’s work space. Daring cocked an ear and listened. A voice. Male. Muttering to himself as he works. But who could have beat me up here? There’s no way Talon understands pony magic well enough to get through these locks before me! The adventurer crouched and crept into the room.
Even with a pegasus’ eyes, which were better at seeing in the dark than most other ponies, it was still a struggle to avoid bumping into a table or kicking one of the many tools, beakers, and books scattered on the floor.
Despite this, Daring managed to make it to the last bookcase that blocked her view from the light. Peering around the corner, she spied a pedestal situated in an open area amongst the bookcases. Upon that pedestal sat the source of the pale glow.
It was an ornate goblet, crafted of a material that seemed to shift one moment to the next, appearing copper, then gold, then glass, then silver, then wood, and so on. Sometimes it was studded with gemstones, at other times inlaid with ornate scrollwork. Yet always it emitted a soft glow, a light which seemed to promise a wealth of choices – an invitation, and a warning.
The Goblet of Infinite Possibility. Daring’s breath caught in her throat at its beauty. But where is the one who was whispering over—?
“NOW!” cried a voice from above.
Daring threw herself sideways in an attempt to evade the attack – fast, but not fast enough. A weighted net enveloped her as two Talon troopers landed on either side. Before she could attempt to extricate herself, one struck her across the head with the butt of his pistol, hard enough to make her ears ring. She landed heavily on the ground.
“Horsefeathers!” spat the adventurer. She made to rise, but the business ends of two pistols made her rethink the move. Plus, that hurt. Mighta cracked my skull if I wasn’t wearing helmet. Better wait. “Hiding up in the rafters, eh?” she remarked aloud. “Well-played.”
“Indeed it was,” rang a voice from the shadows. Its accent bespoke refinement, education… and utter condescension. A griffon whose arrogant poise and mocking smile matched the voice to a T strode forth from the shadows to stand beside the Goblet.
He was short for a griffon male; much shorter than the burly Talon soldiers who strode up behind him or descended from the rafters. Unlike the others, he wore no uniform – just a crisp black suit and hat. He carried a cane under one arm and wore pins nez glasses on his beak. His appearance was that of an academic, not a soldier.
“Glothrop Goddard,” snarled Daring.
“That’s Doctor Goddard, sky vermin,” replied Glothrop as he took off his pins nez and polished them. “It’s not surprising a lowly creature like yourself has no manners for your betters.”
“Sorry I forgot the honorific, Doctor Death,” sneered Daring. “It’s hard to remember that you’re supposed to be a gentlegrif when you spend so much time ‘experimenting’ on the griffons who won’t buy into your crazy horse-crap.”
“Ah, so my reputation precedes me,” smiled Glothrop. “Yes, I am a researcher of some note. I’ve always been intrigued by the possibility of artificially advancing our glorious evolution.” Daring snorted, but Glothrop only smiled more broadly and gestured with his cane to the Goblet. “As you might imagine, I found the promise of such a wondrous item as this to be… incredible!”
“You’re playing with fire, Goddard. The Goblet is dangerous! Too dangerous!”
Glothrop raised an eyebrow. “Too dangerous for you miserable equines, perhaps, but not for me.”
“For anyone, Goddard!” shouted Daring. “The Goblet unleashes infinite potential outcomes! That means—”
He held up a claw. “I am well aware of the relevant literature, little pony.”
“Then you know it can’t be controlled! If its powers are unleashed, infinite catastrophes may ravage the land!” Daring strained against the net. “Please, Goddard, think! It won’t just be Equestria that suffers! Griffons will suffer too!”
“And their sacrifice will pave the way for us to unlock the infinite potential of our species,” declared Glothrop calmly. He snapped his claws, and two Talon troopers stepped forward with a briefcase. Glothrop opened it, pulled out several phials, and began mixing the liquids into the Goblet. “I must confess, Miss Do, I am impressed by how far you made it. I suppose the stories are true – you really are talented, at least by pony standards.” He paused his work a moment to favor her with a cold smile. “It is fitting that the best your miserable species has to offer should watch the beginning of your end, knowing that there’s nothing you can do.”
Daring spat an epithet, which only made the griffon chuckle. Blast it all, he’s right about one thing. I can’t do anything! He’s too far away, has a dozen goons here as backup, and I’ve got at least seven guns on me right now! She wracked her brains for a solution, but saw none. Maybe if I just keep him talking, an opportunity will present itself? Just… talk and pray for a miracle? It was a frail hope, but the last she had.
“Hey, Doc, satisfy a lesser being’s curiosity, eh?” she prompted. “How’d you get through that door before me? I know your goons slowed me down, but I doubt you would’ve lowered yourself to the level of a sky vermin like me to figure out how some of the most complex locks of a bygone equine era worked.”
Glothrop chuckled and his work slowed. “Ah, you are correct my little pony. I outsourced the work to an associate of yours. He was quite amenable to assisting me… doctor to doctor.”
Daring’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean…”
The griffon looked back into the shadows and beckoned. “Come now, Doctor. Don’t be shy.”
There was a slow shuffling of hooves, and from the shadows emerged a familiar unshaven earth pony. His jacket was torn, his face was bruised, and the calculating spark was gone from his eyes, replaced by defeat. Two guards flanked him, sneering openly at the defeated stallion.
“Caballeron,” whispered Daring. “You… you helped them?”
The stallion gave a crooked smile that showed more than a few missing teeth. “He made a very reasonable business proposal, Daring Do,” replied Caballeron. “Help him and live, or defy him and die.”
“And you chose to help him?!” snarled Daring, rising up beneath the net, heedless of the guns in her face. “You bucking idiot! There was no way this dastard would ever spare you! Even if he did, how could you help this maniac?! Do you have any idea what nightmare he’s about to unleash?!”
Cabelleron’s smirk was tired, full of old rivalries, old arguments… and old regrets. “Be honest, Daring. When was the last time you saw me be a good stallion?”
“You— you…” stammered Daring. “You could have been!” She shut her eyes against the hot tears that sprang up. “You should have been!”
“There’s a fascinating story behind that, I’m sure,” said Glothrop dryly, “but if you could please open your eyes, Miss Do, I’d very much like for you to experience the beginning of your end.”
Horsefeathers! I tried to distract him, and he distracted me instead! Daring opened her eyes to see Glothrop holding the Goblet and its completed contents.
“You are the greatest of your species, Miss Do,” declared Glothrop. “And even you could not stop me. Now, bear witness to true perfection.”
Sure could go for a miracle right now!
He raised the Goblet to drink.
“Sir, wait!” warned one of the Talon troopers.
Wait, really?
Glothrop paused and glared at the trooper. “What?” he grated.
The trooper unslung his rifle and pointed it at the chamber’s ceiling. “I’m not sure, sir, but it sounded like someone up above shouted ‘look out below!’”
Glothrop scoffed. “Really? You stop me for a hallucination? When we return home I will see you reassigned to the Southern Fron—”
A grey projectile crashed through the ceiling, flattening several griffons with falling timbers before slamming into Glothrop. He cried out in pain and shock as the Goblet flew from his claw, up above the cloud of dust and debris choked the air.
It hung midair for an instant, turned, and fell straight down on the projectile. There was a splash, an audible choking gulp, and a disgusted exclamation of, “Yeeackth!”
Daring gagged on the dust and wiped furiously at her eyes as she tried to make out what miracle had just dropped in. She blinked the dust clear… then blinked again at what she saw:
Ceiling timbers had crushed, poleaxed, or buried most of the Talon troopers, Glothrop was flat on the floor, groaning and looking dazed, and Caballeron was nowhere to be seen.
A blond, grey-coated pegasus mare in mailpony rig sat plopped on the groaning Glothrop’s back, her head swaying slowly, an upended Goblet of Infinite Possibilies between her ears, and the stains of gleaming magical liquid around her lips.
The mystery mare gave her head a hard shake, which resulted in her eyes going cross-eyed. She surveyed the damage around her with a slow head turn, winced, and exclaimed, “Oops! My bad!”