Just inside the entrance of the Daring Do Wing of the History Department’s Hippological Studies section, there is a large glass display case. It rests in the center of a wide rotunda, the walls of which are decorated with tasteful portraits of the wing’s namesake at various points in her career. The later ones, depicting her as professor or department head, are generally subdued, portraying her alongside an open book, or artifact dredged up from her years of travel.
It is the earlier portraits that seem to draw the most attention from students. They show a young mare, dressed in a field jacket and helmet, often bandaged, crawling through a ruin or jungle, or deep beneath the earth, torch held high in her teeth. The paintings carry an abstract quality to them, as though based on their subject’s legendarily fanciful memories. Still, they are colorful and attract the eye.
The display case in the center of the rotunda is lit from all sides by a series of spotlights placed upon the walls. Within are dozens of priceless artifacts – the Sapphire Stone, the Golden Compass of Arlah, a small glass hummingbird – arrayed on a series of tiers, and each with a tiny slip of paper noting the date of its creation, where it was found, and the conditions of its discovery. Most of these items are rotated out on a regular basis and sent to museums around the world, many of which have their own collections in Daring Do’s name.
At the highest point inside the display case there is a single item that has never moved. It is a simple graphite sketch, drawn on what appears to be a scrap of paper torn from a field notebook. It has smeared in places, been stained by water, and what looks like a drop of blood in the bottom corner provides the only dot of color.
It is a drawing of a simple brass lantern, remarkable in no way. A small note beneath it says nothing about its date of creation, where it was found, or the conditions of its discovery. Instead, it is hoof written, and signed by Daring herself.
I could not bring Cinnabar’s lantern back from Lith. I pity anyone who tries. But I did discover a wonder in those catacombs, something that belonged to me, something I hadn’t realized I’d lost. I reclaimed it, and I brought it home, and it is the greatest treasure I have ever found. -DD, 986 CE