Project Renaissance

Chapter Six: We Captured a Legend

By Lucius Seneca & Stillmatic

"Quick! Quick! Why haven't you finished the decorations yet? Can you not see the urgency of this situation? Stop laughing! Just go and prepare everything before they-"

Westin grimaced as everything within the large temple ceased to move. Griffons, ponies, and strangely enough, zebras paused what they were doing to stare at two humans that had just walked through the darkened arch behind them and into a chamber fit enough to be considered a grand palace of a king. Ulysses and Westin looked just as ragged as they had the day before, appearing more like filthy vagabonds than anyone actually important. Still, the eclectic mix of animals failed to continue in their duties and simply stared at the two humans in stunned silence, eyes widened and glimmering in the light of the torches of the room. In a moment of quick thinking in order to disarm the tense situation, Westin did the single most non-threatening thing he knew.

Near the back of the oval-shaped space, three large thrones stood situated, seemingly carved out of the stone of the room itself. With their eyes still adjusting to the dim light, the two men had not yet noticed the three figures sitting rigidly in the seats. In fact, they could barely see anything. Dim torches lit the space sparsely and flickered ominously, watching with orange eyes from their embedded places along the wall. A primitive pathway had been chiseled into the floor, looking more like an extended divot that led towards the thrones and stopped short several feet. Cryptic pictographs covered the ceiling and seemed to have been painted on, some faded with age. It was as if Ulysses and Westin had stepped into a sacrificial tomb.

The centermost figure hissed something in a foreign tongue and the workers who had been putting up strange, alien decorations took their leave hastily, rushing past the humans and into the light outside. The clacking of hooves eventually faded and the silhouette spoke once again, this time in English:

“Greetings! We have been awaiting your visit for many years now!” Standing and stepping down from the throne, the shadowy figure made a distinctive swishing sound as it walked towards the men, “I am LeBlake, the leader of these pilgrims.”

LeBlake, as they soon figured out, was not human; the complete opposite of what the name implied. Golden silk flowed together to make an elegant robe of exquisite craftsmanship, and contained one very bizarre looking head at the shoulders. Sagging, leathery scales drooped off of a long neck and met at the narrow head. Eyes looked them over carefully and as the reptilian moved closer. They could make out a large, spaded tail hovering slightly behind. Despite the appearance of the supposed leader, there was an unquestionable grace to each movement.

Ulysses' eyes widened at the sight and he felt his stomach give a horrible, sweat-inducing kick and he turned his head, vomit collecting in his mouth. He fought for a few seconds and choked it back, nearly failing. LeBlake noticed and tilted her head inquisitively:

"No, no, I'm good. I'm fine." Ulysses wiped the sweat from his face, "It's probably something I ate."

LeBlake's expression turned from concern to that of anger, "Have you ingested anything while you have been here? I can have the cook excommunicated if you wish."

Westin elbowed Ulysses and whispered, "Chill the hell out. What is this thing anyway?"

"I am a Monitor. A reptilian gifted with the power of foresight." LeBlake stared intently at her two guests, "And you...you are the ones we have been waiting for."

Pulling his head back in confusion, Ulysses questioned the lizard in front of him, "What do you mean? You've been waiting for us?"

The Monitor pointed upwards at several depictions of vaguely human caricatures, "You see, we've long awaited the return of the masters of this world. Where we tread is not simply ours for the taking, so we've pulled ourselves away from those that believe so until the time would come that the previous owners would return. So we've waited until this very moment, preparing every single day of our existence for it."

LeBlake nodded happily and a toothy grin split her face, "Indeed you do. We have merely protected it for you over the years, and now that you two are here, we can begin."

"The inevitable reclamation, of course. Further exploitation of this world cannot be allowed unless it is under true hands, and not the meager imitations used by other species. No being has such things, with the exception of you two. So it is with great honor that I offer our services in what is now our holy war."

"Holy war? I'm not getting involved with some shit like that," Westin commented. "Waterboarding isn't cool, yo."

LeBlake nodded and Ulysses pulled Westin away before breaking into a whispered conversation, "Listen, man, we're in this now. We can't just tell these...things to go to hell and leave, they'll kill us."

Westin turned slowly, brought a finger up to his mouth, and shushed her loudly before turning back, "Nigga, how is any of this shit even happening? Think about it! How the hell did the Catskills fall apart, how did we end up in a desert, where did everyone go, why are all of these animals talking?"

"Just relax! We can't leave! We don't even know where we are. Hell, we don't even know what's going on, much less what to do. Our best bet, right now, Westin, is to stay and figure it out. If these guys have been here as long as they say, they must know something. We have to find out what happened."

LeBlake spoke up again, "I sense that you two are wary of us. Would a banquet relax your nerves? I'm sure the entire village is curious to see their new leaders."

"Don't call us that shit!" Westin gritted his teeth and forced himself to calm down. With obvious stress, he continued, "Whatever, we'll play along with this shit for now. I just wanna get the hell out of this King-Tut's-Tomb-lookin'-place."

Ulysses voice had grown strained from the continued susurration, "Shut up! You're making it worse!"

Both men stared at each other for another drawn out second before speaking in unison, "Yes."

The village was alive with light. Fiddles and violins sang with loud, perfected voices as creatures danced about in the light of torches, lanterns, and large fires. Singing and laughter soaked into the soil and the air. Marquees and pavilions stood, bursting with activity as griffons, ponies, wolves, and zebras paraded about, feasting on the foodstuffs put out for the celebration, and while guards still patrolled the perimeter, a joyous time was being had for all. Decorations had been put up to appease the two human visitors and fireworks exploded amongst the clouds, littering the sky with fiery colors and the revelation that a new age was being born amongst the trees of Leota.

Westin and Ulysses found themselves to be the center of attention wherever they went. They could not find a secluded spot to relax and discuss just what to do without being greeted by their apparent new servants who offered this and that, never content to leave the two men alone. So, after much annoyance, they settled near one of the many ale barrels that had been rolled out for more merriment, pouring each other drinks as they attempted to find the answer to their problems within the frothy mugs before them. It wasn’t long before two familiar faces appeared amongst the crowd.

“Hey, Lysandra.” Ulysses looked bored as he addressed the other, “Pyrite.”

Lysandra administered a hearty slap on Westin and Ulysses’ back in greeting, “Enjoying yourselves, commandants? I made sure that your friend here didn’t slip away, as you requested.”

Pyrite chimed in, “Your position, apparently. It’s all I’ve heard the past hour or so.”

Westin frowned, "I don't like to hear this sorta shit without being drunk." He looked at his mug, "Weak..."

"Well," Lysandra sniffed the mug, "I don't drink, so I wouldn't know. But I can probably pull a few strings and get them to change the recipe. Anyway, I won't trouble you two with any of this formal business for now. After all, we're supposed to be celebrating."

He stood shakily and grabbed ahold of Lysandra who, in her surprise, instinctively reached for her sword, but stopped as she realized Ulysses was merely inviting her to dance. She laughed boisterously and the two spun and moved their feet in time to the bluegrass music. And although Ulysses was fairly inebriated, he still managed to keep a steady rhythm despite bumping into several other dancers. Breaking off from Lysandra, Ulysses clutched Westin’s collar and pulled him upwards, pushing him into the sea of dancers where he inevitably ended paired up with a heavily pierced zebra.

Watching in disgusted fascination, Pyrite felt her jaw drop as Ulysses planted a warm, alcoholic kiss onto a shocked Lysandra. The griffon soldier jerked back in surprised, but softened after a quick moment. It seemed that even the last two humans in the world were having fun amongst what they would have considered impossibilities mere days ago when they had first awoken and taken their paramount steps into a hostile world.

Or rather, only one of them did. Westin was uncomfortable with his situation entirely, and the alcohol in his system didn't make things any better. The zebra, a female who apparently had a fascination with metal being embedded into her, was honestly a good conversation partner despite how uneasy even looking at her made him. While Ulysses was content with pushing away the problems they were facing, Westin found his mind extremely troubled at all times. He didn't know why the only other human he knew of now was able to so easily let himself fall for a party. Could it have been the insanity spiking up again? Was he really the only sane human around altogether?

Westin excused himself and retreated behind the barrels of liquor. He was tired, so very tired. There was no enjoyment to what was happening. That didn't change, even as Pyrite trotted up to him, fully sober.

She sat on her haunches and spoke over the music, "Looks like you aren't really having fun, unlike your friend."

Westin grunted, "Forget that nigga. He's completely out of it. He kissed one of those goddamn turkeys!" He spat, slamming his fist against a barrel. I can't stand how everything is getting so messed up."

"I'll admit, what he did was really weird. But at least he's having fun, you know? Sure, I hate him with everything in me, but he isn't moping around."

Westin stared past her, watching as Lysandra towed away an unsteady Ulysses into a tent he knew for a fact wasn't be used any longer for festivities. With a deep sigh, Westin could only imagine what kind of situation he was sitting on now.

Across from Westin and Pyrite, hidden by a thin layer of fabric and cloaked in candlelight, Ulysses struggled to get a grip, both physically and mentally, on the anatomy of griffons. Lysandra let out several endearing yelps as Ulysses, drunk and manic from the atmosphere of an entirely new world, tried his best in a subject he had not had experience in for a blatantly long time.

Outside the tent, the celebration commenced for several more hours before quieting down, the villagers retreating to their homes, the guards back to the barracks and their posts, full of fine food, ale, and wine. With the rising of an early sun, a fine, creeping mist laid it’s tendrils across the morning dew, mingling with muddy hoof prints and the small, delicate droplets of water. An eerie quiet had befallen the settlement and the sun cast dull, gray morning light across the vines of Leota.

Westin and Pyrite had long retired. The last of the partygoers had vanquished and the many tables and tents had been dissembled and stored away, but the welcoming banners and celebratory emblems still remained, although limp in the morning air. Ulysses stirred achingly amongst the pelt covers and eventually slid out from underneath their weight, standing nude. Lysandra stirred, but did not awaken, her sword and scabbard tossed aside. Ulysses winced at the pounding in his head and wondered perhaps if the drums he had heard last night had not been real after all. He yawned and reached for his clothing, pulling it on silently.

The morning air was cold against his skin, but Ulysses ignored the goosebumps that erupted across his exposed forearms as he rolled his sleeves up. The camp had been cleaned sometime during the night. Ulysses laced up his boots with bleary eyes and felt something press against his chest. Reaching inside his jacket, he felt at the glassy surface of a bottle of whiskey. Drinking it as he walked, Ulysses felt his stomach recoil against him and he vomited into the grass, tossing the bottle where it exploded against the edge of the fountain.

Wiping his mouth, Ulysses continued on in a kind of haze. He was purposeless, free to roam full abandon. Well, as long as he didn’t go past the palisades. LeBlake had been clear about that. He wondered briefly where Westin was or the meddling golden horse whose face had not yet healed. Ulysses jogged up the steps of the palisade, passing by small stores and carts that stood waiting for their owners. A guard greeted the lone human, offering a hoof as Ulysses struggled with the last steps.

“We had hoped you would appreciate it. We can’t offer much here. It’s a small village.” The guard stated as he returned to his post, Ulysses leaning on the palisade edge.

Staring at the oppressive tangle of vines and leaves, Ulysses yawned, “Where’s Westin? I haven’t seen him since last night.”

The guard turned and pointing towards the barracks, a squat, ugly building, “I believe your companion spent the night there. Grand Foreseer LeBlake will want to have a word with you two later today. I’m willing to bet she’s eager to speak with you both in depth.”

“I didn’t request anything.” Ulysses could hear footsteps coming up the stairs behind him.

Westin groggily rubbed his head and climbed the stairs, "Have fun basting the turkey last night?" He became thoughtful for a moment, "I'm getting some Deja vu about that."

"I don't want to talk about it." Ulysses looked paler than usual, "God, I was so drunk last night."

"White boys don't know how to handle liquor. What else is new?" Westin sat on a crate and looked out into the forest as something flittered across the dark tree line, "We gotta sort this shit out."

Ulysses looked at the guard, "Give us some privacy." The stallion sauntered off to another section of the walkway as Ulysses slid down and sat with his back against the top of the wall, "I mean, I thought nothing like this was possible. And how can it be? Shouldn't we be more disturbed? You know what I mean?"

"Maybe. I seriously don't like what's going on, and I'm starting to think we're just being experimented on in the Catskills again. They're probably doing some crazy sci-fi type experiment where we think this really happening."

"They never did that with us before. It was all blood samples and testing. What purpose would this even serve?"

Ulysses ran his hand through his hair, "I don't think any of it is believable. But let's assume that all this is real, actually happening. If it is, we need to talk to that lizard lady. She must know something."

"Nothing happened out there until these crazies showed up," Westin pointed out. "Only reason I'm here is for food."

"Where's LeBlake?" Ulysses called out to the guard. The pony pointed back towards the structure where Westin and Ulysses had originally met the strange leader.

The two humans sat up and headed down the wooden stairs. Due to the relatively small size of the village, the walk to the ritual palace of the Holy Hand was fairly short. The citizens of the town waved and bowed as the men passed, showing a great deal of respect, though it unnerved Westin quite a bit. Still, there weren't many other options other than to hear out the eccentric she-lizard and hope that this wasn't actually happening. His stomach turned at the thought that this was all real, despite what he had went through the past few days. But before he could further consider those thoughts, Westin found himself already heading up the stairs beside Ulysses.

They passed through the hallway and into the atrium itself. After a night of drinking and general excitement, it now seemed familiar, as if the two men had dreamed of it before. LeBlake sat cross-legged at the foot of her cathedra, eyes shut as a ring of wax candles burned around her. Incense was heavy in the air and her companions, who had not yet introduced themselves, lay slumped in their respective seats, apparently in some sort of trance.

The quiet echoing of boots on stone caused LeBlake to raise her head in greeting and she stood up, cloak flowing, “Forgive me, we usually meditate during the early morning. There is…peace at such times, I have found.”

LeBlake smiled as she relit a stick of incense with her claw-like fingers, "I believe you two have already decided that. What would you like to know?"

"Of course I did. Foresight is a very useful trait, Ulysses." LeBlake said as Ulysses looked on in reluctance. He had not told her his name.

LeBlake let her smile fade and pointed to the ceiling, “This building is over a thousand years old. It was built by our ancestors to honor yours. Our order was created not long after King Equinox took power over what we now call Equestria. You see, we honored humans, we honored you, but after you and your kind disappeared from Equestria, we were left to fend for ourselves, declared a cult by the rulers who claimed humans had never existed.”

"And there ain't some sort of documentation of any of that even happening, if it even really did?" Westin looked at a depiction of Orion above, "Cause none of this actually persuades me."

Ulysses looked annoyed, "Why don't you just let her finish the damn story, man?"

LeBlake continued despite the bickering, "In time, we've managed to attract other groups towards our own and grow in number, however slowly that has been. My race, the Monitors, aren't of this continent. Our ancestors migrated from somewhere far, though no others have ever come. Zebras find their way here as well, alongside Griffons and Equestrians. Over the course of history, each race has played a specific part in keeping this group alive. And now, our work has borne fruits for us."

“What are you talking about? What fruits? What the hell do you things want from us?” Ulysses’ voice rose in frustration.

“With both of you returned to us, we can prove to the world that you exist and you can reclaim the power that you have lost. Equestria is co-ruled by the Royal Princess Sisters, Celestia and Luna. They sit on the throne that rightfully belongs to you and with our forces, we can retake Equestria! With both you and Westin as our commandants, we will follow you until our deaths.”

"That shit is creepy," Westin responded. "And neither of us got any military experience. We can't lead armies."

LeBlake stood up slowly, her tail sliding across the floor as she put her hand on Westin's face as if to comfort him, "We have military advisors who can aid you. In fact, we have an entire excommunicated paratrooper company ready and able to fight."

"Yes. A griffon company that was exiled due to war crimes during the Invasion of the Gulf of Stripes." LeBlake replied, "Are you ready to lead?"

"I don't like this shit, be we gotta do something to sort it out. I'm in, for now."

Ulysses looked back at LeBlake, “If you have proof that what you said is true, we’ll lead.”

A faint smile crept across LeBlake's face, "Very well, then. Such information is not easy to come by, especially outside of this country. Though, there is one place I believe where some sort of documentation exists. The Royal Archives have hidden areas that contain information only nobility and royals can view. The Archives are all the way in Canterlot, however, and could create some problems in getting to it."

"Indeed it is. The most lavish of Equestrian cities. It is where the Princesses reside and rule. The Royal Archives may have records that date back to the Equinox era. That is your best bet."

"We're in the middle of nowhere, with not a damn thing in sight. How do get to Camelot?" asked Westin.

"Simple. We've foreseen an Equestrian keeping an eye on you since you've escaped your tombs. Surrender to him, and the rest shall happen on its own."

Ulysses was critical of the suggestion, "Just let ourselves be captured? Why would we do that? If what you say is true, won't these princesses just kill us to avoid acknowledging our existence?"

LeBlake raised a scaly finger, already having prepared a rebuttal, "The Princesses are not their parents. They are far more liberal, and likely more willing to accommodate you. That, and both Equestrian and international law declares that you are both an endangered species and applicable for political asylum. Your deaths would likely cause an incident that would cause a backlash far too negative for them to consider."

"Ok, so assuming we aren't killed and dumped in the forest, and we make it to this Canterlot, how do we get the records? And more importantly, how do we get out without making a scene?" Ulysses asked.

"I have agents in the city that can assist your escape." LeBlake stated, "It should not be hard to steal the records. Equestria has not seen a conflict for many years and peace time has made security weak."

"What about all the everyone in the city? What happens when they see us?" Westin clicked his tongue, "I don't wanna be around for that sorta publicity."

Ulysses nodded, "And what about this equestrian? How do we let him capture us without suspicion? What then?"

Holding up her hands, LeBlake began to explain, "The cities inhabitants will undoubtedly learn of your existence. There are no secrets in the circles of nobility, but it will hardly matter. Once the public becomes aware, the spotlight is on you and the princesses. This is your insurance that you will not be harmed. They cannot do anything with the world watching. It is also an advantage for our entire order. We can, I suppose, at that point, simply say, 'We told you so.' but it will also attract new followers and give publicity to our cause."

"So, we're gonna be used by both you to further some causes and shit?" Westin shrugged, "Screw it, I just wanna get to the bottom of all of this. Some breakfast too."

LeBlake narrowed her eyes, "This is a mutually beneficial plan, commandant. We shall have breakfast prepared for both of you and you can meet our advisors during your meal. I shall see you afterwards."

Ulysses and Westin glanced at each other. They had been dismissed and, as they left an ossuary of history, they wondered what would be for breakfast.

Lysandra stopped halfway from putting a piece of trout in mouth and put her fork down. Sitting across from her was Westin, who seemed to thoroughly enjoy his breakfast. The contentment made way for curiosity, and his brashness returned after consuming some food. Lysandra found their few conversations to be amusing, but the numerous questions that anyone with a pulse should've known was getting tedious. Though, the humans hadn't been around for a few thousand years, so it was understandable.

The man nodded and returned to his meal, content at the moment with his questionings. Two tables away, Ulysses dined next to Teal, the unicorn, and across from Akakois, the griffon soldier they had encountered in the forest. Teal chattered on about how he had once battled a Minotaur and had somehow survived the encounter. Ulysses nodded with glazed eyes and took another bite of the sausage in front of him. It was actually quite tasteful and he found himself savoring the bites as Akakois explained, amidst Teal’s newfound storytelling abilities, that he was able to fight three combatants at a time with merely his talons.

Ulysses turned to look over his shoulder at Westin and instead caught Lysandra staring lovingly at him. The human gave her a polite, acknowledging smile and turned back to his meal as his head began to throb with newfound persistence. The entire brunch was outside in a large partition of well-trimmed grass, tables set out with delicate precision and painfully white tablecloths. Ulysses sighed and pushed a few raspberries into his mouth as he was forced to greet yet another advisor, this one a tall mare who claimed to have a degree in economics. Ulysses nodded and thanked her and promised that he would most definitely stop by to see her later.

All of them were instantly pulled away from their current distractions by a familiar voice, "Friends, enjoying your breakfast?" LeBlake's tall stature created a natural elegance as she moved into sight, "I would make a toast, though I don't think champagne is very fitting in the morning."

There were several groans at the mention of alcohol, particularly from Ulysses. All in all, the long night of celebration had taken its toll on both the humans and the residents. Westin thought on how exactly the day-to-day operations would even be able to resume, but dismissed it when he saw several zebras packing up tents and the like. It seemed as though the recoveries from these parties was quick enough to keep everything running smoothly, if the fact that the ever-present guards by the palisades wasn't proof enough.

"Now, I've been informed of some recent developments and devised several way to proceed through the next few steps of this new situation." She looked the darker human from bottom to top up, "How do you feel about tattooing metal into yourself, Sir Fairbanks?"

Said man nearly choked on his eggs, "Get outta here with that. Are any of you things even licensed?"

"Your reaction was just as we saw it would be." LeBlake's warm smile turned to Ulysses, "And what of you? Surely you would be interested in such a proposal?"

LeBlake clapped her hands together, "Excellent! Now, Sir Fairbanks, as we assumed you would greet the previous proposal with a certain amount of disdain, we have come up with a healthy alternative and one that we think you might appreciate." The Monitor smiled brightly, flashing her sharpened teeth, "Would a golden tooth suffice?"

Westin's face went flat, "That is the most racist and ignorant shit I've ever heard. I want it in platinum."

"Unfortunately, it only comes off with the appearance of gold due to its properties. Sidium, the metal we'd like use, produces a vibration that directly interacts with the user's own mind." LeBlake pressed her claws together, "It isn't a light decision to make, but an important one. Shall I go on?"

When silence greeted LeBlake, she continued on, "While Sidium will work fully on you, Commandant Westin, we were required to adapt the implantation for you, Commandant Ulysses. Please understand that I mean no offense by what I am about to say, but my seers tell me that your mind suffers from a relative level of instability that can decrease and increase at times. The tattoo we propose is composed of Sidium-saturated ink and is a spell incantation. Simply utter the final words and you will be able to communicate with me at any time regardless of distance."

Another one of the leaders, and elderly male Monitor, seemed to arrive from not very far behind the group. Westin nearly jumped at the raspy sound of his voice, with it also grating against Ulysses' ears. They were introduced to him last night, and even then the old lizard had caught them off-guard. To everyone with in the village, he was known as Seer Presstel.

"Oh, there are quite a few developments these days. I'm sure you were told about that one Equestrian Prince, were you not?"

Westin cringed at the sight of the saggy Monitor, "Can't even remember. Let her tell us again."

“Yes, the Equestrian who had you followed is of noble descent. A famous prince, as it were, called Blueblood. He is directly related to the Royal Pony Sisters, their nephew in fact. It would seem that he has a knack for adventuring far beyond his regular duties.” LeBlake explained.

"In fact," Presstel continued for her, "this isn't the first time we've had to deal with his actions. I don't believe he realizes that, but I do believe it's time to turn this thorn in our side into the perfect ploy to get you two into the Archives."

Westin didn't look convinced, "So we gotta get this done to us before we can sort out everything else?"

“I’m not following.” Ulysses stated. “You want us to kill the guy or what?”

LeBlake grinned, "No, surrender to him! Remember? Do so and you'll have multiple chances to get the documentation we need. I apologize for sending you on this, but you two are only ones capable of getting to that information the most easily."

"Yes, as I mentioned earlier, we have agents that could return you here without making too much noise. You would need only to communicate with me so I may contact them."

Next to Ulysses, Teal leaned in and whispered, “Akakois and I would be most happy to assist you. Lysandra as well, I would think.”

Ulysses waved his hand at Teal impatiently, “Quiet for a minute, Teal.” He circled his finger in the air, “Should all these…individuals be listening to this? Shouldn’t it be confidential?”

LeBlake laughed warmly, “Nothing is secret here. And these are your trusted advisors, don’t you remember?”

"I didn't appoint them," Westin remarked. "Let's just get this over with already. Need to burn off this breakfast."

"Very well! I shall meet you in the grand chamber and we can begin!" LeBlake said with an excited tone as the guests began to leave their tables.

Ulysses and Westin looked across at each other and silently wondered just what the hell they had gotten themselves into.

Project Renaissance

by Out of Service

Chapter Six: We Captured a Legend