“Hello? Mister Argus?” He had been calling for several minutes. The old zebra had said he would be there to meet him when he had finished his journey. Yet he was nowhere to be found. The stallion had not been shown to be a liar before. There must have been more to it.
He might have gone out of the wrong exit from the maze, if there were, indeed, multiple exits. He might need to face the maze and the reflections again. Not something he was eager to do. Something strange could have gone wrong and trapped the older stallion somewhere, or he may have been recalled from his duty for some unknown infraction. Perhaps he had given more warning than he was allowed.
If it wasn't something he had done, then it meant that his solo endeavor wasn't done. The cavern leading downward seemed to promise a further challenge. He cautiously approached, noting the unusual silence. His hooves barely made a sound against the stone, and not a sound came up from the depths. What did emerge was a waft of freezing air, like the breath from a Windigo. He had met cold before in his quest. He could meet it again.
His hoofsteps still made no sound as he tentatively took himself to the edge of the cavern entrance, peering down into the darkness. There was a faint glow, deep down at the bottom of a smooth, sloped stone passage. No hoofholds, no certainty about traction, and no other option, other than a passage back through the maze. The very thought of it was enough to let him know he had no other choice.
He took Smarty-Pants out of his collar and gave her a sudden hug. “If ah don't make it, an' yer trapped all alone here, jes remember ah always loved ya, ev'ry trot of the way.” With that, he tucked her back into the collar and stepped out into the opening, bracing his hooves as well as he could against the stone.
It was smooth and slick, not just polished by the action of time and moist wind passing along the surface, but covered with the faintest layer of ice. It was like trying to trot along the cobblestones back in town in the midst of winter, but worse. The slope exacerbated the lack of traction, while the smooth singularity of it left no purchase. His forward motion was uncontrolled. All he could do was slide and twist, scraping and grunting as he sought even the slightest hold on the ice-slick hill.
He hit the sides of the cavern a time or two, and was really chipping his hooves up when he cracked the tiny ice layer to try and scrape along the stone underneath to control his speed. Despite his failure to control or slow himself he made it to the bottom after only a short trip, with minimal personal damage.
There had been a gentle curve to the passage, which had kept the sight of the bottom from view. One glance showed him why the wafting breeze from the bottom had been icy. The cave that went down from where he had ended up was covered in a layer of ice, the rock looking distorted through the encasing layer. It looked to continue into the barely-illuminated distance. It was, at least, a very broad, tall cave, hung with stalactites and stalagmites.
After huffing out a breath and shaking his body to start warming himself Big Mac stepped forward, hooves sliding just a touch on the sheet of ice that covered the floor. It was another familiar experience, very like the time Applejack had dared him to try and cross the frozen pond on just his hooves. He had made it, and earned himself some bragging rights, but it had been quite a scary thing, skidding and sliding along, even falling on his flank more than once.
He half-trotted, half-slid along the ground, eyes casting around with a paranoid preparedness. The world had been beating into his head, from the beginning, that nothing was as it seemed. Even the easiest trot was nothing more than a cover over an easy failure of a test he barely knew he was taking. All that met his suspicious eye, at that time, was the ice, which was getting imperceptibly thicker the further he went.
His ears, however, were picking up something. Whispers. Unfamiliar voices saying unknown things, the tiny sounds almost lost in the whistle of cold wind along his ears. But he could tell, somehow, the sounds were not just the wind moaning along the passage. They were words from many mouths.
The first intelligible word that hit him actually stopped him in his tracks, with his momentum carrying him along the ice a space. “Traitor.”
“What was that? Yer callin' me traitor? Who's there? Say it to mah face! Ah'm loyal as can be and ya should know it! Come out ya magical monster!” He wheeled in place, scanning the frozen environment for reflections or spectral presences.
“Traiiiitoooor...” The voices moaned, the wind whipping by his ears faster for a moment. “The farm lies fallow, the apples wither in the trees and your family hungers, bodies stiff upon the cold ground. Why are you not there to toil for their survival? Traitor! Selfish traitor... taking this journey without thinking of them. You fool. You have endangered them for nothing. You have responsibilities.”
“Ah do. Ah certainly do...” Big Mac trudged on, head slightly turned by the rush of wind. Despite it, he persisted. “Ah have a responsibility ta Smarty-Pants. Mah love made her complete and ah saw her up an' about. She told me she loved me and ah wanna bring her back. She's mah one and only special somedonkey. Ah'll walk to the bottom-a Tartarus 'cause ah'm the one that can. Mah family ain't sufferin' none, they can stand on their hooves fer the little space ah'm here.”
The wind rushed along with a renewed force, as the ice on the walls and floor grew thicker the further Big Mac went along. He could not quite see the stone walls through the slight milkiness of the ice. The thing he could see were dim reflections of pony faces in the ice. They were not distinct, but they were there, as was the judging mass of voices that groaned in the wind. “Traitor, traitor, traitor to your land.”
“That the best ya can do? Ain't nopony more loyal ta Equestria, 'ceptin' maybe mah future sister-in-law. Th' older sister. But y'all knew that. Yer jes lyin' ta me 'cause ya got nothin' else. Nothin'!” Big Mac stomped a hoof firmly, sending radiating cracks out from the point of impact.
“You have left your home, the land of your birth and land of your mothers. You have entered a foreign place, an alien place.” The wind grew harder, and the faces slightly more distinct. Their eyes became piercing, judgmental, glaring at Big Mac. “You shame your princesses and all the archmagi of your land. You call them dirt. Worthless. Nothing. You must stumble into some new land. You are ashamed of your home!”
Big Mac pressed on, occasionally shifting as the wind blew upon him, tiny crystals of ice forming at the tips of his mane hairs. “Ain't so, ain't so. It was Princess Luna her own self that sent me here. Ah'm here 'cause she cared enough ta send me. She ain't ashamed ta say what can't be done in Equestria. Ain't nothin' there but temporary solutions. Twilight told me so, an' she knows plenty.”
The ice was growing, constricting the passage into an uncomfortably claustrophobic thing. The wind had also increased in both speed and chill, making Big Mac recall the dark forest and the rime that crusted his coat. It was happening again, a hoar cloak across his back and down his mane. The faces became clearer with each layer of ice, every step of his taking him into a darker and darker set of glares and more judgmental sets of their jaws. “You have betrayed her. The one that lies soundless, sightless, speechless in your collar! The things you have done to her on this fool's errand! Falling! Miasma! Filth! Freezing! Boiling! And it ignores all the filthy thoughts you held before. The long nights with a hoof around her... traitor! She could not say yes! She could not refuse your advances! Traitor...”
“Hush up!” Big Mac set to running, dashing down the icy tunnel with less and less clearance on all sides. “Ah never did nothin' to her! Ah held her tight like she asked durin' our day together. Ah did just as she asked-a me. An' ah didn't have no choice 'bout what happened here. Y'all did! She woulda wanted it too, she woulda dragged mah cloth body down this path an' ah'd be thankin' her at the end!”
Smaller and smaller it constricted, the ice thick on every size, the wind howling with calls of 'traitor', the faces in the ice stern images of generic ponies, that slowly transformed into something much more familiar. The face of his granny. Granny Smith soon gave him a hateful glare from every surface. He ran out of running space suddenly, the cavern opening up significantly but ending in a huge, smooth wall of ice. The pale surface shimmered with mana before it displayed an image of Granny Smith, bigger than life, her titanic stature exaggerating every crease and line, and making her dagger-glaring scowl all the more menacing. “Consarn it, grandsonny! Ya had ta be one-a them! Ya done it! Ya betrayed me!”
All the bravado and dedicated strength Big Mac had been showing wilted before the familiar glare of his grandmother. She had planted in his heart the fear of her mere image. She was to be minded and obeyed. “G-granny? Ah... ah know it ain't you. An' ah know that critter's makin' ya say this stuff. Please don't do...”
“Don't! You! Sass! Me!” The wind roared, like a Windigo's rage, adding to the chill stabbing into the stallion's bones. The image of Granny seemed to get even closer, face increasing in size to dominate the ice wall. “You turn yer flank around an' get yerself back home!”
“B-but Granny... ah've come so far. Ah did so much work jest ta make it... why can't ah get on to do what ah came here for?” Big Mac was little better than a shivering colt, unwilling to even look up.
“You know why! We have our ways! You stay on the farm! You marry a fancy pony lady! You set up yer acreage and you make bits! That's how we do it, boy!”
“But..!”
“No sassback, boy! Ah thought ah had raised ya better, but ah see ya didn't learn nothin'! Yer nothin' if ya can't obey what ah know is right!”
The red stallion slowly rose to his hooves, not cringing quite as much under the assault of cold or words. “C-come on. Ah'm gonna come back with a fine lady. Why she's a friend-a Twilight Sparkle, and Twilight's friends with the princess! That's strong gov'ment ties.”
“Ah said fine pony lady! Ah ain't lettin' ya come back with some no-Cutie-Mark hussy that wants ya fer yer acreage!”
Big Mac managed to look up into the giant face, if only for a moment. “That ain't fair, Granny! Ya never met miss Smarty-Pants! Ya don't know how sweet she really is, an' how smart she is an'...”
“Don't matter none! We keep pure in this family! No Cutie Marks, no go! Ponies 'r zebras is th' limit! Why can't ya be like yer sisters? A famous pegasus! A zebra with her own homestead an' a good job!”
“That ain't right! What about cousin Braeburn an' cousin Little Strongheart?” Big Mac approached the ice wall with a bit of his old fire back. “They're jes fine...”
“Don't you talk 'bout them! They may be in this family because ah... ain't none-a yer business how it happened! But it happened and ah ain't happy. But we have honor in this family!”
“Ah know 'bout honor. Ah'm gonna be a good husband ta miss Smarty-Pants. Ah'm gonna tend the farm, be a proper gentlecolt and do as ya wish. Jes with miss Sm-”
“No!” The glare grew more dire, her frown pulling the lines in her face even more. The withered old crone had never looked more horrible. “You mind me! You mind mah will! Ain't gonna be no brayin' longears in this family! Don't matter she's jes a lump-a cloth! Ah've already been shamed with some savage buff mixin' with our blood! You ain't gonna add to mah shame!”
“She ain't nothin' ta be ashamed of!” Big Mac puffed out his chest and stood tall and proud before the icy image of his grandparent. “She's a sweetie an' so smart! She's almost as smart as Twilight an' that ain't hay! Y'all'll love her, Granny! Jes give her a chance!”
“Ah ain't doin' nothin' jes 'cause ya tell me! Yer like yer griftin' uncle! He weren't an obedient boy either. And ah got rid-a him!”
“Mah uncle ain't a bad stallion! He loves ta help...”
“He never minded me! Ah will be minded! Ah will be obeyed! Y'all 'r like that son-a mine! Spoiled apple from the day he was born! Ah had ta save the family from bein' spoiled by him! Ya might be jes like him! Ah gotta protect the family! Evil stallions gotta be cut out!”
A hoof scraped along the icy floor, and Big Mac's muscles tightened like the creak of old wood. The ice fell off of him in tinkling shards, cracking off and shattered on the floor. “Mah uncle is a good stallion!” He whipped around, forebody leaning down. “An' so! Am! Ah!” With a sudden burst of strength and righteous fury he bucked out at the ice wall. It was not a moderated applebucking buck. It was the full extension of all his muscles, the explosive release of all his tightened energy used to knock down dead trees or those that need to be removed.
The hooves whacked into the ice with a reverberating crash. Giant cracks radiated through the ice, as the scowling face yelled, “You mind me!” The cracks split her face in several places before the mana fizzled out like a television on the blink. With a great rumble and further cracking shatters the wall of ice fell away and to the side, revealing a short stone passage leading up.
It took Big Mac a moment to calm himself, huge heaving gasps helping him gulp down the slowly-warming air. His walked up the path with a trembling step, towards a warm and welcoming light. He emerged from the passage into a gigantic cavern. The ground was covered in lush grass that went partway up the walls. The walls were not bare; they and the ceiling were studded with giant crystals glowing with mana, in a combination of colors that added together to give the whole area the aura of the outdoors. It was like a warm summer afternoon. Before him, a long stretch of the grassy expanse that did not seem to go anywhere.
A sound drew his attention. The turn of his head revealed the august form of Argus, leaning on his walking stick. “Greetings, young one. Welcome to the end of your journey. Welcome to the cavern of the Granter.”