//------------------------------// // Incessant Notes // Story: Many Million Moons Ago // by The Real Darkness //------------------------------// Far below Equestria, under artificially created soil that was long since compounded into rock, laid a giant and expansive kingdom. It came before Equestria, before Unicornia, Pegasopolis, and Earth were established, before Grogar Arrived or the Alicorn sisters were born. This kingdom existed when weather, wilds, and magic had yet to be tamed properly. It was the time of forgotten legends and knowledges. Very few creatures above ground were even aware it existed, not that they could talk with just anyone about it. They named it the Deep Lock. Those who ever stumbled upon it would find it locked in time. Those same who returned to speak about it found their mouths locked shut, their tongues unmovable. Persistent still, if they tried to lead some to where they found it, they’d find they could not move closer to it, only away until the intent and thought vanished from their mind. They could talk about it freely with others and some spent their entire lives finding another to talk to about it and always asked the same question: ”Were you ever Deep Locked?” That was the only way they could get their mouths to speak about it to something or someone that may not know. Eventually, a small society was made of these affected beings. They all tried to return to the kingdom that laid below, whether alone or as a group, but every entrance they used as an exit was sealed and no amount of force or magic would pry it back open. He couldn't remember how he woke up here, in this bed that was far bigger than his. It was comfortable and he'd probably still be asleep if that low hum didn't vibrate off every wall. He thought he knew everything there was about sleep and dreams, it was his favorite activity after all. Nobody ever said you could wake up some place you didn't go to bed at. No, he wasn't drinking, he swore off alcohol a long time ago when it failed to really help him outrun his depression. He definitely didn't get kidnapped, at least he didn't think so. The sweats and shirt he fell asleep in while lounging around were still on him, so was his smartphone. If he was taken against his will, they would have surely stripped him of communica-. Oh, no signal. But at least he had games to play on it, stupid time wasters, text adventure stories with their code spliced with a sliver of Oregon Trail. He wouldn't be able to play the ones requiring connection, but he could definitely screw around on Halls of AI. Though if he would listen to that little voice of adventure, the dungeon was already generated in front of him, all around him, and he stood in it with his sneakers not kicking up a single tuft of dust. Maybe this was a dream. Or something like a dream, the food felt real, so did the bed. The brain is a great illusionist though. The apples on the nightstand tasted pretty sweet and juiced his whole chin. Real? Maybe not, nothing this good could be made unless he was at a private farm. So he lounged around longer, plopped on the bed, sleeping and not sleeping. Tapping away on his phone and staring up at the stone ceiling. If the time was accurate on his phone, that was sixteen hours. Sixteen hours spent in the same dream didn't seem right. Sixteen hours of that same hum didn't leave his sanity intact either. He ripped the door open himself, poking out of the room to find a giant hall stretching in one way. The other was a window that had a lovely view of rock. Stained glass meant this could be some kind of church or maybe a European abbey he read about since it has a bedroom and was built out of stone. The floor contained a rug interwoven of red, white, and yellow fibers. It frilled with white tassels and ran along the entire hall. This was something his mind could definitely come up with. His head snapped the other direction hard while his slap reverberated through the hall. His cheek stung and it reddened, but now he knew this wasn't a dream. Did someone put him here as a social experiment? Did that someone also play too many RPGs? He took another look at the stained glass, seeing three unicorns with wings depicted on it. Their horns touched together and the onlt difference between then were the color of their manes. Red, white, and yellow. The unicorns all had a deep orange as their body color. Strange, but that orange wasn't an orange-brown like a horse's fur could be, just orange. An odd heraldry choice, but this could be a clue as to where he was or who he should be talking to. His ears focused him on the humming again. It didn't sound like it came from one specific point, but rather all over. He sighed out when he was drawn away from his fantasy thinking brain again. "Vantor, let's go on an adventure," he spoke to himself while he walked down the hall. This was definitely some sort of residential quarters. Every single door lead to another fancy room with a bit of food in it, a giant bed, expensive decorations, and some kind of horse depiction. The royal family who owned this place really must have liked showing their heraldries. Or horses. The food was all fresh, thankfully, and he even managed to find water and juice among the copious amount of wine. He didn't want to risk running down that path again. He came to the end of the hall and saw suits of armor, all holding giant swords extend to the left and to the right in an even larger corridor. The armor didn't seem right, shoukders were slumped, chest was inward, and legs don't bend that way. As he went around one, he caught the side view and realized it was another horse. The royal family here must be a bunch of nuts. Even then they didn't have any guards around that should have found him by this point. That was definitely the weirdest part besides the fascination with horses. Tink As he stared, a light almost bell like sound broke him from his gaze and the humming filled his ears once again. He turned around to see on the floor laid one of the suits of armor, this one with a mane and tail of red coming out of it. He approached it, crouching low to inspect it closer as one of the giant swords were in one of the hooves. He curiously eyed the first, seeing as horses had no fingers to grip amything with, but this suggested that it could actually hold things. If the denizens of this castle were actually horses, it would explain the obession with equines all over. He reached down and flicked open the helmet's klappvisor, a horse stared back at him, its eyes flashing over him in what seemed to be silent terror. The armored horse slowly rose from the floor. Its movements weren't practiced or purposeful, but wobbly like it had spent a night out on the town. The sword followed with its hoof and was eventually held in both forehooves of the creature. Vantor as slowly stepped away and stood straight as it got up and continued to lock eyes with the pin prick pupils. The horse knight advanced, sloppily swinging the thick blade down and slamming it onto the ground as its intended target stumbled back. "Wh-what the fuck? I didn't do anything!" Vantor argued as he continued to step back from the horse. Tink The unique sound pitched off the stone walls and he turned to tun away, hearing the crash of metal as the horse kept up with him. It didn't chase with a purpose either, looking much more to be hurrying after him in a desperation with legs that were asleep. It kept pace and Vantor stopped running down the corridor, snatching and wrestling one of the empty suits of armor for its own thick and wide blade. He hoped silently that it wasn't just for decoration while he heaved the steel slab up. The stallion who chased him stared on in fear. It was male, he came to that conclusion after studying the armor a bit more and seeing an extra plate on the lower body. The sword swinging at him broke his unnecessary thoughts and Vantor stepped away, watching the slow recovery of the horse before he heaved his own giant sword in a horizontal arc. The horse had incredibly thick armor and Vantor had no training that he could use to even justify calling himself an amateur. The blade still surprisingly cut easily into the armor and the flesh of the horse before him. Blood did not flow, but the horse collapsed shortly after. He could see the red slowly trickle from the huge gap in flesh, but it didn't flow as fast as it could before it stopped altogether, his sword still lodged in the neck of the once hostile horse. Vantor didn't understand anything of what happened, but he grabbed another sword from a suit of armor all the same. He stared at the presumably dead knight while he claimed a new weapon. Dead, after a minute or two of staring, he was certain it was dead. It hadn't moved in a long while and when he turned his back to it, no noises or pursuit followed. The new slab of steel laid against his chest and shoulder. Tink He moved on, traveling down the corridor a bit more and into small hallways that were all still some kind of bedroom or quarters. The fruit and vegetables along the way filled his belly nicely. Vantor kept moving in fear another metal friend was on its way to him. Servant quarters, guard barracks, decorated knight rooms, it was very likely he was in the residential wing of this castle. It was quite like jsut out of a story book, save for the weird white lights on the ceiling and that no window could ever be looked out of. Every glass window was bordered perfectly by rock on the other side, but there was not a single crack in any of the glass. The rug was still in perfect condition, seeming to be one giant sew runner that included corners and continued without breaking the pattern. Walking for three hours as deonted by his smartphone, he found himself increasingly paranoid. No dust, no people, no other signs of active life, and he was just attacked sporadically. It didn’t really add up in his head to any kind of conclusion. The only thing he drew was more anxiety. There was that low hum that his brain eventually tuned out. Vantor had to really focus to hear it again. Tink But that sound was definitely special. It didn’t just sound like it was coming from one direction, but it felt that way too. This time when that high pitched note verberated to him, it tingled his exposed skin from that direction to. It was the best kind of lead he could go on while he walked and walked. Vantor, of course, continued to explore every room he came across just to find no more clues except that this castle was definitely owned and operated by horses. Every suit of armor and piece of clothing he saw in a wardrobe alluded to that. The food was still a bonus to him, but he’d have prefer the good gas station beef jerky for such a long hike. Eventually, he came out of endless corridors, into a big courtyard that was filled with dead bushes, stems, stalks, and trees. If you could call it a sign of life, the crystal clear waters of streams, small stone canals, and other streams held fish. Unmoving fish, their fins didn’t flap, their bodies didn’t rotate with currents. In fact, there was no current at all which meant there was some crazy laminar flow in this messed up place or the water wasn’t moving despite the clear indications of bubbles and ripples. That’s when he finally decided to conclude this whole castle, even this courtyard, was stuck in time. The horse that attacked him was the only exceptional besides himself. The courtyard was overshadowed by a black void atop, no stars, no lights. This was definitely all underground. That answer brought him even more questions. If this was all underground, what was above it? Who was above it? Where on Earth was he? Is there a tunnel or cave out? And that’s when he spied, on the other side of this giant courtyard, another horse. This one wasn’t wearing armor, but hide some kind of cloak on meant for its anatomy. There was a horn protruding out of its head. And it lit up with a gold and white light, sparkling. Vantor found himself stunned at the display until a projectile of the same colors zipped toward him. He ducked, watching it explode on the wall directly behind him without damaging the stone. Adrenaline surged in his body and he quickly ran back into the castle and down the same hall he was once in, sprinting as he heard the next volley explode. Tink There was the sound again, coming from a different direction at the intersection. Vantor immediately bounded down it, determined to find out where he was before one of these horses or unicorns killed him down here. Even more hours later and a sleep in another guard’s barracks, Vantor found himself walking down a large set of stairs into a throne room. The ceiling was high, it was well lit, and the three winged uncirons were depicted on banners of the same colors the entire castle was decorated with. It extended out to the left to a giant set of stone doors. Silver and gold accented the doors and even some decorative accent tables and potted plants. For whatever king live here, it was fancy. If he could scrape some of this stuff off with his sword, he could be-. “I see, a guest of which ilk I have not witnessed,” a deep feminine voice called to his right and he looked over to see steps decorated with gold and silver at the edges, alternating. Above at the top, one of the three winged unicorns sat on a throne in a set of three, occupying the left chair. A multitude of stars was chiseled out and painted white, red, and yellow on a backdrop of blue. The middle chair held another symbol indented into the top. A rock on fire with a streak of red behind it, the asteroid was full of holes. The chair on the right was missing its symbol at the top, having been broken in two and the stone around was all crumbled away. “Hello, creature. Might I know your name?” The equine brought him back to reality while his mind raced in fantasy worlds. Its coat was a royal blue, its mane sported white that flowed and shimmered through the air. The horn atop its head shed a bright red light. “V-Vantor. Where am-.” There was a soothing hum that reminded him of the low vibrational sound that was still active even now. The lit horn of this equine seemed to dim just a bit, “Vantor, come. Please do not sit yourself over there, come sit with us. Though our kingdom does not move, it has been almost a million moons since we last had a guest,” it patted the throne next to it, “I am Queen Vast Nebula, the alicorn who rules over this quiet place.” Vantor hesitated a bit before he stepped himself over. He figured that if it was intelligent enough to make conversation, it could tell him where he was and it didn’t harbor any physical ill will to him. Heck, maybe this was even just one long dream that he could indulge himself in for a little bit. “Vantor you said? Perhaps no coincidence in that was share an initial.” “Vantor Nelson,” he smiled while he sat on the throne, turning himself to face the ruler. “Oh, ha. Peculiar that you would be chosen to arrive now. I know you have many questions, please share them with me.” “Where am I?” That was the first question that plagued his mind. “You are in a land of ponies, a kingdom looong forgotten,” she was starting to indulge herself in conversation, “the name no longer matters, I wish it forgotten. The ponies on the surface call this place the Deep Lock and it stretches under all their cities, all their towns, all their train systems, and even under some of their lakes.” “How...how do I go home?” To this question, she smiled warmly though sadly. “My friend, you do not get to go home.” “What do you mean? This is a dream, is it not?” As soon as he finished his words, Vast Nebula reached over and put a hoof to his cheek. He could feel all the fur tickling his skin, providing a soft surface while the hoof underneath poked at him. “If this were all a dream, I would be playing a game of chess with you over tea by now. I assure you, you owuldn’t win that game.” “Th-then how did I get here?” His voice shook while she withdrew her hoof. This couldn’t be real, it had to be a dream. If this was real, then he could have actually died a couple hours ago, right? No, magic does not exist anywhere. The closest thing to magic was quantum physics. Or was he just refusing to acknowledge that what had happened was real? “I know this information may linger in your mind before you accept it. I felt you enter my capital and used a spell to trace where you came from. I found it was another world, I know the one who landed you here, but she is not a pony you should socialize with,” she warned, turning her eyes to the crumbled throne, “the room, behind the thrones, I’ve converted it to a guest sleeping quarters and gathered an ample stock of food there should you be sleepy or hungry. I know your walk to me was long.” Vantor followed her eyes and looked at the broken throne of the set of three, “what happened here? Why are the other ponies in the castle attacking me?” Queen Vast Nebula held the same smile on her face for a while now, “I hold them locked in place with a spell that ceases the progression of time for everything but me. I buried this place atop a vast amount of rock and dirt so the ponies who escaped would survive. If they have attacked you, then that means that my magic is slowly being overwhelmed,” her smile dropped, “which is why I find it no coincidence that you were chosen to be teleported out of so many. My enemy would have your name be a sign to me.” “Your enemy? A sign?” Vast Nebula looked down to the steps, “Comet Streak, my sister, is an alicorn who used to rule with me and my brother Novae Canvas. I’ve not seen...eye to eye with Comet Streak in millions of moons. She had wanted to rule alone to achieve our ideology of a perfect paradise where not one disagreement occurs, not one problem burdens a pony.” “You and your brother were against this?” Vantor proposed and she nodded in agreement. “She first asked us to step down and we declined, saying that all three of us must discuss and be in agreement to come to a decision. Comet Streak then fired magic without warning onto my brother. Novae Canvas,” she pointed to the broken throne, “died that moment and I banished her to the far reaches of the kingdom before sealing all of this away and sparing a few ponies from the fate of so many down here.” “Then you stopped time.” “Yes, but Comet Streak had not had to expend her magic to keep everything in a stasis so suddenly and almost permanently. She has been using breaches in my magic to fetch ponies and even other creatures from the surface in an attempt to lure them back with more so that she can persuade them that I am responsible for the events that transpired so long ago.” Vantor shook his head, “let’s say I truly believe you, that ths isn’t a dream I mean. Then...what proof do you have?” Nebula pointed at the throne beside her, two books laid there, each one had the symbol of her throne and her sister’s throne on them, “our diaries. Read them, you’ll find her thoughts disturbing and our writing distinct. It’s said one can not truly emulate another’s style of penmanship.” “I’ll...take them with me. I’d rather not read somebody’s diary unless I have to.” Queen Nebula smiled, “a polite gentle creature, aren’t you? Care to be my only functioning knight?” She raised an eyebrow before she laughed, “or consort?” And eventually, after Vantor nervously let a chuckle leave him and Vast Nebula’s laughs stopped echoing, a silence filled in. “My sincere apologies. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend to speak with. While I would love to keep you, I have something to ask of you, a big favor.” This sounded a bit like an adventure. Vantor didn’t think he was really cut out for an adventure, but from what Vast Nebula said, there’s not much of a choice. He nodded. “Thank you for hearing me out. I ask that you return to the surface, warn the ponies there of my sister’s encroaching emergence. They do not deserve to deal with our follies.” “And how would I find the way out?” “Comet Streak has opened all the tunnels and caves I once blocked off. It is only a matter of time before a pony from above stumbles upon her before me. You can find a way out, I’m confident.” “But you don’t know of a direct exit?” Nebula shook her head, “my friend, I had used some of my magic to make a sound in order to guide you subtlely to me. Now all my talent is absorbed keeping my sister from breaking free of her stasis. And the exits that I resealed I have forgotten where they are in my long vigil.” Vantor looked away from her smiling face before looking at the steps. No way home, impending doom, and he’d have to find a way out himself. This would definitely be an adventure. He mulled it over a bit longer, even knowing he didn’t have a choice. Well, he could always lay down and accept his fate, but what kind of a loser would do that? The hum that never left slowly wormed its way to his brain again, “I’ll do it, Queen Vast Nebula.” She cheerily laughed, “call me Nebula, that will suffice enough. I thank you, Vantor. Whether you succeed or not, I appreciate your efforts. Please, rest here before you leave. I can, for a certainty, tell you that an exit out of Deep Lock does not exist in my capital kingdom here. So,” she pointed her horn at the closed throne room doors, “you must travel elsewhere in the kingdom to find an tunnel or cave out.” Vantor picked up the sword and stood from the throne again. “Oh, and that weapon you hold, is enchanted. Though massive and heavy, the magic imbued in it has lightened it and made it an excellent tool against any armors. I do wish to give you other means,” Queen Nebula tilted her head backwards, “take my own sword and shield from behind my throne. You’ll find them to be more effective and the shield will protect you from magic attacks should the need arise.” He went around the throne and carfeully set the huge slab of steel down in exchange for a blade of completely blued steel styled as a saber, but still of the same thickness and width as the one he just set aside. The handguard was fully plated in silver and the shield held the same scheme as well with a glowing blue circle in the center. He walked back around to the front of the throne where Nebula smiled. “My, look at you. Perhaps you truly are my last knight,” she laughed, happy to make her own jokes with an intelligible creature again. Vantor nodded, “right. I’m, um, going to actually sleep for a bit and eat something before I go.” “Archway behind the thrones,” she spoke warmly, “rest well.” He went behind the throne again, traveling through to entryway to see a study that had been converted, a bed present and piles of perfectly preserved and fresh produce crowded baskets, boxes, and even overflowed from the desk. Vantor took his time to eat and to sleep.