The Tomb of The Prince of Silence

by Forcalor

All overgrown

𒄈 𝔄ccording to the snippets of information he gathered around, the ruins wouldn't make that big of an impression: just another moss-grown structure, overtaken by the vines and succumbed to the relentless passage of time. Quill Pusher was well aware that there are a lot of such little points of interest around Farasi, but this one was supposed to be special both to locals and outlanders like himself. The young zebra guide dispelled the last doubts about that, stopping when it was at least a day's worth of journey to the destination.

The guide's apologetic voice was respectful, but he looked at Quill like at pitiful fool. "No go. No equine comes back."

So in the end he parroted the same words as other possible guides from the village. Quill glared at him with helpless anger: "That is ridiculous! We've paid you for the whole trip!"

"Far as I can. The holy ground not allowed," a zebra explained to the full capacity of his limited vocabulary. In this neck of the woods, at the furthest outreaches of the known world, it was a blessing that he was able to speak proper Ponish altogether, so Quill wasn't the one to look a gifted pony in the mouth. And now this has happened. Figures.

Exasperated, he peered at pair of fellow Equestrian travelers he met at the aforementioned village. They seemed to be not perturbed at all. One of them, a unicorn by the name of Aurous Shine, suppressed a lighthearted snicker: "Come, you have your syphoner ready to go. Are you afraid or something?"

Quill nervously adjusted a satchel on his side, giving her an evil eye. Assumedly, she was one of the thaumic purists, all garbed up in strange but practical clothing and giving out the impression of a shamanistic ritualist. There was quite a disquieting feeling about her that Quill just couldn't put his hoof on: she looked attentively and smiled like a gator, yet was ready to prance without a care in the world. In this regard, her pegasus compatriot seemed more streamlined:

"Do not antagonize him. Who knows how long we will walk these paths, anyway?" she chirped and blew off a lock of blond hair from her muzzle. Mellow Twinklestar she was called, and she was like a gust of cool wind on a hot summer day, keeping herself composed and a tiny bit aloof.

"Me knows. Not long," offered the guide.

"Thank you, dear."

"It isn't some sightseeing or a tour," Quill grumbled. He already pegged two young mares as some highborn brat in search of new experiences and what seemed like her eccentric bodyguard. It was better than going in alone, though.

Aurous waved around a long, curved knife, which so far she had only used to cut lianas: "Don't fret, pumpkin. I'll look after you."

He gulped from the sight of the blade up close—more like a butcher's tool, really—, and pleaded to the guide: "My good pony, you know this rainforest like a front of your hoof, without you we'll be lost! How much for you to reconsider? Ten bits? Twenty? I do not have more!"

Zebra let it slide that he wasn't a pony. "Equestrian witch-money no good here. Tainted. Foul mojo," he said, looking at the syphoner apprehensively. Suddenly, the reason why the locals were so reclusive became much more obvious to Quill. He felt a cold sweat and wondered if they would try to burn him on return or even do something worse. Savages, all of them.

"Why did you take them, then?" Mellow raised a brow.

"Bored. Felt pity. Also curious."

"Not much to do around here, huh?" Aurous pulled Quill into an embrace with one hoof and pulled on a cheek with the other, grinning lopsidedly: "Don't worry, we'll be fast friends, I'm sure. I kinda like you!"

"Gah!" Quill grimaced, batting Aurous' hooves aside, especially the one with the knife, "Personal space! Please!" He turned to the zebra, desperately: "Will you wait for our return at least? I'll pay twenty, no, twenty-five!"

The guide looked at the sky and shrugged: "Zenith of the third day, right here. Will wait for an hour."

"That leaves us only with one day for searches!" Quill gasped, "Celestia's suns knows how much time we will actually need to reach the place. Have mercy!"

"Do not worry. Me do know how it goes. You will not come back. No one ever does," zebra reassured him, "Now, the bits?"

𒄈 𝔗he journey was just as arduous as Quill expected. They needed to exert constant attention to where they were placing their legs, as the foliage was making it very difficult to see. Pervasive mosquitoes were always swarming at a hoof's reach, kept away only by the means of magic. Concerning wildlife, though, it was one of the least of threats, as Quill constantly feared being bitten by a venomous snake or being attacked by some kind of never-seen-before jungle timberwolf (timberjaguar?). There was also a possibility to fall off a treacherous cliff and break neck. Heat and humidity weren't making things any easier as well. Truly, he couldn't imagine any place that would be more hostile to a pony.

And yet they kept climbing forward pretty much at the same pace as they did with the guide. Aurous walked confidently, Mellow was keeping up right after, and Quill just crept in the back, remembering all the known stories about ponies in the wilderness who fell behind the group and got lost. His imagination was already playing tricks on him, making him nervously glance around, waiting to see predators lurking in the bushes, even wondering if this forest was magical—it just might be like the infamous Everfree. Luckily, Mellow was keeping an eye on him.

"How are you doing?" she asked him compassionately, and Quill's cheeks reddened from embarrassment. It was true that he wasn't accustomed to such forays, but Mellow gave off the impression of a privileged fantsy-pantsy girl. Humiliating...

"Who are you two? Been here before?" He asked with suspicion.

Mellow hummed apologetically, with a knowing look: "No, we just get around a lot. Obscure places are kind of our specialty. Ever heard about the Equestrian Historical Society?"

He puffed, thinking, and keeping attention to those damn hooves of his: "Oh, I think I know. If I recall correctly, the one of Manehattan University?"

"The very same."

"I thought you guys were disbanded, like, fifty years ago?"

Aurous chirped from up ahead: "Look at him, the stallion knows his stuff!"

"Times changed, and we were reinstated," explained Mellow, then suddenly stopped him with a wing: "Careful! Spider, see?"

Following her gaze, he gulped. Distracted, he almost stumbled with his flank squarely into the spiderweb. "T-thanks..." he grumbled. He was struck by how colorful the huge spider appeared, which meant that it was very lethal as well. As he comprehended that he couldn't even tell how many of those he passed unknowingly, his head immediately began to spin.

They pressed on, listening to the cries of exotic birds, flying so close and looking so curious, that it was clear that they never knew proper equine presence before. There was a unique flavor of murderous innocence in the air. Quill cleared his throat several times, and just as many times wiped his muzzle full of sweat before he continued: "S-so, Farasi, huh? What brought you out here?"

"Oh, the same thing as you, I'd imagine. The Prince of Silence," Mellow made a delicate smile.

He smiled back nervously: "You want to ask him something?"

"Ask?" She looked as if not catching on, "Why, actually yes. In a way."

"Assuming he would want to share, Mel," Aurous heartily chuckled.

Quill interjected, his brows furrowed: "Of course, he would! We aren't making this journey for nothing."

"That's right!"

"The Prince of Silence undoubtedly will listen to pilgrim who made a spiritual journey to reach him." Mellow nodded, her smile slightly widened. She leaned closer to Quill, like they were collaborators or something, "Everything is supposed to have a price, you know. This is exactly what it's all about..."

"R-right..." Quill nodded warily. "You seem... knowledgable."

"Oh, I'm just embellishing the truth," she giggled, and moved away. "Seems a bit more romantic this way, don't you think? I am working on a book for Equestrian Historical Society, while Aurous over there—she works on my safekeeping."

"Sounds about right," he mumbled. "So you're an author? Don't think I catch the name..."

"Aspiring author," she winked at him. "I've figured, why not begin with something big, and eventually make a name this way? There are so many interesting places around the world, waiting to be told about..."

"Wonder if The Prince of Silence will be against our endeavor here..." Aurous' voice was tense.

Quill felt easier about the whole endeavor now, at least enough to try to appear confident. "Why would he? He is of silence, not of concealing things."

𒄈 𝔗he three of them were standing on a hill overlooking the ruins in the small dale. Despite how overgrown with lush vegetation it was, it was clear that the Tomb was a place of power, still holding an air of majesty. It was more like a small castle than a crypt or, moreover, someone's resting place. Looking through a pair of binoculars, Quill noted strange carvings on the walls, barely visible in the golden waning sunlight.

Nightfall was creeping closer. He lowered the binoculars and listened, not hearing anything. A good minute passed before it struck him as odd: so far the rainforest was brimming with life, with brushing of leaves and cries of animals, with buzzing of those pesky bugs, and muffled splashes from what he presumed to be a nearby swamp. And now everything of it was completely gone to such an extent, that he could even hear his own heartbeat.

"Seems like that coot wasn't lying, the place is special," he said, and immediately complained: "It creeps me out. Should we even rest this close?"

Aurous giggled: "Not like we have much of a choice, pumpkin." She was already working on setting up a tent.

As the darkness was slowly falling, in the gentle, windless silence it brought, every sound around him suddenly became more pronounced. Quill heard the rustle of grass under his and others' legs, then the crackling of fire that appeared under Mellows' hooves when she ignited with a match a diligently constructed campfire. He sat nearby and raised his gaze to the sky. Somehow, the stars weren't silent either, and if he could train his ear, he could've heard a soft humming melody that was coming from far up above.

This place made him feel uneasy. It was wrong and right at the same time, but how else might one feel about the domain of the Prince of Silence? In need of a reminder of why he came all this way, he grasped at his satchel bag once again.

"Care for an evening snack?" Aurous procured several sticks, sharpened them with the knife, and now was deftly skewering yellowish grubs. Quill wondered when she managed to get those.

As he witnessed how juicy and glistening bodies were threaded down the piece of wood, his stomach performed a small somersault, "Ugh..." He burped, and covered mouth with a hoof, "Think I'll refuse..."

Mellow smiled at him, passing along a skewer with bugs: "Don't be an odd one out. Just hold in above the flames—like that."

"It is so crunchy!" Aurous bared her teeth, making more portions, "I promise, you'd be begging for more, our precious pilgrim..."

Feeling awkward, perplexed, and yet somberly curious, he shoved the stick into the fire. Then corrected himself, mimicking the actions of others. It all felt like a bad idea, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

"So..." Mellow glanced around, speaking quietly, "Why not share a story?"

"About the Prince?" Aurous grinned knowingly, dealing with her grubs. Looking at her ardor, Quill warily tried one as well. Surprisingly it was really good, like an exotic creamy dish. A fried eclair, for instance.

"Yeah," Mellow pointed at her with a skewer, "Did you know that the Prince of Silence is also called the Lord of Unspoken Words?"

Quill interjected: "As well as the Compassionate Lord. It was heavily tied to a secret life during his reign here, in Farasi."

"No way he was known as 'the Compassionate'," Aurous playfully frowned, "During his secretive life, he was someone to be feared, that I can tell you for sure!"

Mellow looked attentively: "Maybe it is something that was lost in translation, or are we speaking about different historical figures? Believe it or not, but I know that he was more than humble in life, and in fact, hailed from the realm not that far from Equestria."

"That is impossible!" Quill fiercely rejected, "I know what we're talking about here."

Mellow and Aurous shared a look, and then unicorn shrugged: "Seems like we need to compare accounts, don't we?"

"I will begin." Mellow placed aside the skewer, partially cleaned of bugs, and cleared her throat.

In the cosmic silence that engulfed them, he could hear her voice with frightening clarity. His senses were alert, intensified.

"He was born with a unique gift, an ability to look beyond the veil of others' expressions, to be able to cast his gaze directly into others' hearts. The dreams and desires could be laid clear before him long before people tried to make them known. As he recognized his gift, he recognized the burden of responsibility as well, and deep empathy guided him on a solemn journey throughout the lands. 'Life is too short to wait', he told to himself, and that was the lesson he began imparting to others. Everywhere he went, he helped others to deal with unspoken desires, fears, and thoughts. His wisdom was unquestionable, and in abolishing broken bridges between different people, he allowed their secrets to be revealed, as everything is revealed in time. Those secrets that couldn't be revealed, he was relieving from them, as though time was merciless, the Prince was not without mercy. He was but like a specter of whisper sometimes, which was reminding the people of what truly mattered. 'Lord of Unspoken Words', people called to him through their actions, 'please come and bring harmony to us'. And so he did. And in his wake, they were finally speaking what was on their mind, and there was peace, no more misunderstanding..."

She finished and peered into the darkness of the rainforest. Quill clutched the satchel, feeling a chill crawling upwards his back. Aurous, who was sitting right in front of him, laughed. She passed around the canteen of water, which Quill took with gratitude, wanting to wash down the greasy aftertaste of the bugs.

"What's so funny?" Mellow frowned.

"That is clearly not what was Prince of Silence doing." Aurous giggled, and Quill silently agreed. "C'mon, listen to the true tale now!"

She tossed something into the flame, and suddenly it flared with witchfire. Quill gasped, pulled away and covered his eyes, almost fell. Mellow did not let him, catching his shoulder.

"Feast your ears!" Aurous raised her hooves above, as the shadow was dancing and contorting behind her, "A long time ago, there lived a powerful Lord and Prince, but a Prince in name only. He was an advisor and a servant, see, most honored and close to his master, the old King—but someone bound in servitude, nonetheless. He was fine with his lot, as he was driven by a great purpose. He always trailed his master wherever he went, always lingering over his shoulder, offering him power to control others. 'Everyone has something to say', he told to the King, 'Behind the closed doors there are the thousands of words that your lessers would never dare speak to your face. That is why you need me, to abolish the little lies of their little lives'. And so they were walking forth, one always coming after the other, and making them speak. There was no dishonesty in that kingdom, all was clear, all was laid bare, and the Lord of Unspoken Words reigned over the unspoken wants of the subjects... One day, the King began to slow down. He was struggling with second thoughts. In his old age, his heart began to go soft, and one night he took a moment and looked at the Moon, distancing himself from unceasing chatter of truth around him..."

"The Moon?" Quill jerked up. "Was she somehow involved?"

"Oh, not in the slightest, and it was long before that." Aurous nickered. "Anyway, the King stood so, and suddenly his advisor appeared behind him once more, and silence wrapped itself around like a blanket. 'What are you doing?' the Prince of Silence asked, squeezed his shoulder, and cold gripped the King's heart. 'Why are you stopping?' the Prince repeated intently, 'Do not ever stop. Silence does not belong to you. If you ever waver and slow your pace to the crawl, I will trample and crush you!'" Aurous raised her voice dramatically and finally brought her hooves down.

Embers flew in every direction. Quill almost fell down again.

"Crush!?" Mellow pressed hoof against her lips. "No, The Prince wouldn't do that, would he?"

"Hey, shush! You've had your turn. This is my story now!"

"What happened next?" Quill probed.

Aurous shrugged, "The King couldn't race against the Prince forever. Eventually, The Lord of The Unspoken Words ran him down, and all of his secrets were spilled as well. The last thing he would hear would be his own scream..."

"I see," Quill's voice trembled, "All of it doesn't do justice to the Lord. Listen to my tale... "

He drew breath, looking into the fire, which now was of the normal color.

"He is The Immortal Compassionate Lord, the one that reigns on the edge of reality, when he isn't governing Farasi and communing with its spirits in the material world. He is the one to collect the knowledge of things that were never told by those who held onto them. Unspoken ideas, unrealized intentions, lives not lived—that is what lies in his Tomb. The answers to every question that we never dared to ask. The paths never trotted by equine-kind and others, things that never were, are his domain. Attentive to the plight of the mortals, he diligently gathered it all piece by piece, thread by thread, all the potential that was cast aside by those who treated it as something unneeded. All that ever was denied to us by ourselves, or by circumstances that were beyond our control. Decisions that were never made, children that weren't born... He is the one who resides over Silence, after all, and so his duty is to make sure that nothing ever will go to waste even in thought. He waits there now, and those who go through the journey to him can receive the insight into something that they always wanted to know." He gulped, looked aside, "Something that was abandoned..."

Aurous humphed, rubbing her chin, while Mellow leaned closer and inquired: "So that is what you're after? To ask him about something that you regretted?"

Quill raised his head, "Yes. I—"

"You should let it go," Mellow interrupted him with gentle insistence, "It would never be worth it."

He clutched his satchel bag and shook his head sorrowfully. "I can't. I just can't."

The pegasus pulled back, discontented, while Aurous grinned from behind the flames.

"Well, I am solid about one thing: we should get ready for sleep." She stretched, and the fire began trembling faster under her gaze, "Why waste precious time, am I right?"

𒄈 ℌis sleep was peaceful like never before. Silence embraced him, offering calm that he never knew possible. He didn't want to wake up, to move, and even his thoughts began to move about in his skull lazily, like overfed maggots—not dissimilar to the bugs he recently ate. It wasn't suffocating, as some might expect. Strangely, it felt liberating.

It was a cozy rest beneath the veil of unspoken truths...

He could stay forever in such slumbering existence.

𒄈 𝔄s they continued with descent to the Tomb, the silence began to outgrow the sounds, muffling them more and more. The strangest feeling it was, as if they where moving through an invasive, invisible mist. At least, Quill thought to himself, moving down was far easier than climbing up.

The hillside around was covered by a field of bright yellow flowers, and Quill wasn't sure if they were native to the rainforest. It didn't matter. He did not stop, elated with the fact that resolution was at his hooves, walking with purpose.

Up close, the Tomb was a gloomy place. Vines and cracks were generously scattered along the walls, almost obscuring the carvings he had noticed before. Quill looked intently. There were depicted equines of various shapes and sizes, all walking one after another in the same direction, converging on the entrance to the crypt.

Damp cold breathed into Quill's face from the dark maw of that entrance, and he lingered in his last doubts, glancing shortly upward at the glaring Sun. His companions remained nearby, and their presence made him feel a bit calmer.

"Shall we?" He smiled stiffly.

"We shall!" Aurous laughed.

Mellow placed a wing on his back, arched her brow. "You still might reconsider. Listen to me. If you are getting cold hooves..."

"No, no," he grinned, becoming more self-conscious. "Everything is alright. I will go first, then."

He proceeded forward, being instantly engulfed by the darkness. It wasn't similar to anything he could know. A long tunnel was before him now, feeling out of place in a building of such magnitude, and far ahead it abruptly widened into a chamber.

No daylight was able to breach this place. There was nothing signaling any danger. He kept walking on, listening carefully, trying to notice anything out of the ordinary. Only cracks and dust were here; he couldn't even see the traces of wildlife.

When at least a third of the corridor remained, his companions slowly stopped in their tracks. He glanced at them, startled.

"Ah..." Aurous sighed, dissatisfied, "Seems it is as far as we are allowed to go, pilgrim."

"Wha—?..." He peered at them, then lowered his gaze to the shamanistic talismans on their chests, both in the vague shape of a worm stuck in an acorn.

Their pairs of eyes, red and cyan, strangely glistened in the light of the syphoner.

Somehow he recognized that he wouldn't turn back and approach them, even if he wanted to. They were not of this world, not belonging to the Tomb.

But he was.

"I never told you my name," Quill suddenly realized.

Aurous glanced at her companion, creasing a brow. The pegasus smiled somewhat sheepishly: "Remember when I told you about the spiritual journey? It is real, and it was a part of it. The pilgrim isn't supposed to share. Everything about your life is better to be a secret to us, as unspoken words are a tribute to the Lord's power and influence."

Quill took a step back into the darkness. He breathed nervously: "I see. So. Are you working for the Prince of Silence? Are you actual guides?"

"Are we?" Mellow asked mischievously, with a questioning look at Aurous.

She shrugged: "We might be..." and then grinned with her dangerous smile: "Or we might not be at all. Whatever makes you feel better, pilgrim."

"I understand," he replied quietly. Then gulped, let out a defeated sigh: "Will you wait for my return?"

Mellow nodded. Her voice remained warm and calm: "We will wait as if you've never left."

𒄈 𝔄ll somberly he walked on. The blackness around wasn't any longer something to be feared, it was his friend. Echo was spreading the sound of the steps of the hooves far ahead, heralding his arrival.

He removed the syphoner and placed it down, then did the same thing with the satchel bag. He pulled from it an equine skull, bleached by the Sun. He placed his lips over the skull's forehead, whispering: "I will know everything that was taken from us. You waited long enough."

With these words, he lifted his gaze and finally saw what he sought. Nothingness crept aside, revealing exactly what he expected to see.

Beckoning to him, was his Prince... sitting on a grand throne, with wisdom behind pale eyes, with the gesture of a welcoming hand...

𒄈 𝔒n the hill, overlooking the ruins in the small dale, two were waiting for something. One was patient, the other was not so. She was lying on a bed of leaves and grass, playing with a bright marigold flower. Insects, living in overabundance on the ground, were crawling up her coat, but she wasn't paying attention.

"He isn't coming back, is he?" She yawned.

There was no answer.

She rolled on her side and grumbled, "Well, that was a bust."

Her companion looked meditatively at the Tomb in the distance.

"What is it?" lashing tail, the mare propped her chin on a hoof, "The Prince made you silent, now?"

"I had a thought," she replied, "What if the Lord of Unspoken Words collects unspoken stories too?"

The mare grinned, "Isn't writing more up your speed?"

"So I should write all about what happened? You'd think he could escape the Lord like that, through something written?"

"I'd say yes, if only for a time. Written stories won't be around forever, you know... Nevertheless, you should write despite the Lord's greedy clutches and his fake compassion. Write out your guts, all misery, and doubts and weakness, all that is choking you! Shout all that you ever wanted to say, and let winds carry your voice as far as they can!"

"Yeah!" She smiled, "To spite the Prince, as silence is all that he craves... To keep everything beyond his reach a little longer, at least in the written word... I will do exactly that."
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Through my chattering teeth, I whistle,
Walking the woods on a moonlit track.
Sixty feet tall, looming behind me,
Good Prince Silence
Follows and woe if I dare look back

Woe is me if I ceased my whistling,
Or I stared at the moon, even tried:
Sound of a wail and a snap - and -
Good Prince Silence
Would trample me down with a stride.
(Ady Endre, 1907)