Later, Stratum and Steele sat at an empty table in their Uncle Top Hat’s guest house. The guest house sat in the back lawn behind a tall hedge in the topiary garden. Stratum once snidely proposed that this accommodation was because Top Hat put ponies here that he didn’t want seen by the general public. Steele had reminded him that at least they had room and board for free instead of having to work jobs on the side just to pay for a cheap inn.
Upon the table were the remains of dinner, an above-average fare consisting of fully-loaded gourmet salad and sweet lemon bread.
Steele considered this his favorite part of the day. He rubbed his full belly and asked, “So, how’d it go with the professor?
Stratum bit back a rude comment and instead just growled to himself.
The tall, strong stallion smiled widely and replied, “That good, huh?”
The short stallion griped, “That damned…!”
Steele warned, “Stratum! Watch your language, please.”
The small, yellow stallion blurted, “That darned old swindler tricked me into singing up for an expedition for only fifty bits and no assistants! Can you imagine how evil he is?”
The tall, strong stallion stated happily, “Congratulations! This is what you’ve always wanted!”
Stratum whined, “Do you know how long fifty bits will last me on a long expedition with no equipment or travel food?!”
Steele guessed, “Um, a lot less if you had assistants to pay for?”
The small, yellow stallion growled at the common sense his brother spouted. He could not deny it.
He sighed, “I guess so, but still! I’ll be eating leaves out of trees at this rate!”
The tall, strong stallion suggested, “So go out there fast, find something that even Professor Vellum can’t argue with, and then come back. I’ll pack you some travel food.”
Stratum watched his big brother in amazement. The taller stallion seemed to have no troubles in the world. He just picked up Stratum’s saddlebags and went into the main house of his uncle to request some travel food.
The small, yellow stallion couldn’t help it. He smiled and thanked his lucky stars for such a supportive brother. Maybe this expedition wouldn’t be so bad after all.
=========================
A week later, Stratum found himself in the wilds of Equestria. He had taken a pegasus taxi to Ponyville where he visited the library for directions. He then struck out westward, following the main road.
The library’s caretaker, Twilight Sparkle, had told him that was the road she normally took to visit Zecora. Once again checking his own set of clues, he followed the road past Sweet Apple Acres and even past somepony’s animal sanctuary.
When the road took a bend to the south, Stratum looked all around himself. He saw forest all around him, and the tops of mountains to the west. He checked his notes once again and then made a decision. He left the road and kept going west towards the base of the nearest mountain.
Several minutes later, he felt the air change. It got thicker and it even swirled on its own. Reflexively looking up, he saw no pegasus ponies above him. He shuddered and wondered if the sky would darken and storm all on its own. He was glad he packed his supplies.
An hour later, he reached the base of a mountain. The sky started growing darker. Worried, he looked for a cave or some kind of outcropping. The wind picked up and he heard a rumbling sound.
There were no outcroppings of rock to brace his tent against, so he simply pitched camp where he was. He quickly put up the tent and then carried himself inside. Tying off the tent flap, he heard raindrops start to fall on the tent roof.
Stratum sighed, “This is gonna be a long expedition.” He decided to just call it a day.
The next morning, Stratum awoke with the sun. He exited the tent and took a long look around. He mentally reviewed what little description of Sable Weir survived in the notes he found.
He began by walking around the base of the mountain to get a lay of the land. He was looking for a small depression in the ground between two mountain bases. There should be a lake there. Just to the north of the lake should be a grove of black bark trees which should be the outer boundary of the city.
For hours, he marched around the mountain, looking at the lay of the land. Several times he heard bushes rustle and tree branches creak. Every time he looked he saw nothing to cause such things. As the day went on, Stratum became very nervous.
As he kept looking over his shoulder, his hoof splashed into something. Looking down, he saw a six-inch deep puddle. This puddle stretched out for dozens of feet in all directions.
Excitedly, he glanced all around himself at the terrain. To the south was the mountain he had been circling around! To the northeast was another mountain!
He exclaimed, “YES! This is it! This must be the lake of Sable Weir!”
A low, dull roar shook the forest. Stratum immediately closed his mouth and shook timidly.
A dragon swooped down from the sky. Its wings buffeted the forest with powerful winds. A second dragon arrived from the west, bearing its teeth and claws.
Stratum yelped and raced back to his camp. Hiding himself in his tent, he prayed that the dragons would just leave him alone and fly away.
He decided to save face by believing that he had done enough work for the day.
=========================
The next morning, Stratum heard nothing. He went outside and followed the mountain back to where he had found the water.
For hours, he kept following the base of the mountain with no luck.
He grumbled, “This is ridiculous! I should have been there by now!”
Suddenly, he saw something. Running up to it, he saw…his tent! He stammered, “Wh-what?! Huh? What the…?”
Looking inside, he confirmed that it was indeed his tent. He had traveled all the way around the mountain back to where he started!
Losing his temper, he screamed, “Where’s the lake?!”
The forest shook as if growling back at him.
He ducked into his tent and just decided to eat dinner and go over his notes again.
=========================
The next morning, Stratum woke up grumpy. He sent out again, determined to find that lake.
The sun shone brightly in the sky. The morning was already hot. The day promised to be even hotter. Stratum took a drink of water from his canteen and set out to find the lake or else die trying.
Well, maybe not die trying.
He almost took to counting his hoofsteps to try and remember where he was when he found the lake. Mentally, he rebuked himself for not taking a better look around when he had the chance. Maybe he could have noticed another detail to look for now.
A couple of hours later, the sun blazed nearly overhead. Sweat dripped off his face as he took step after step.
Suddenly, his hoof stepped on cracked ground. The short yellow stallion looked around and saw dried, cracked dirt for dozens of feet in all directions.
Stratum wondered out loud, “What happened to the water? It’s the right size but…what’s going on?!”
He looked around himself, trying to get his bearings.
He realized that there was a mountain to the northeast!
He jumped up and down, “Yes! Yes! This is it!”
The short, yellow stallion started trotting north, eagerly looking for the grove of black bark trees. He idly wondered if they were walnut trees or if they were a new species not yet catalogued.
He traveled over a slight hill and found himself in a flat plain with old, rotten stumps. To the east were the overgrown remains of primitive homes, as well as a large pile of finished blocks.
Looking behind him, he stared at the stumps, kicking a couple of them. Swarms of insects scattered from the rotten wood. Inside, the wood was a very dark brown.
“Hmm, I guess the description of black trees was a bit of an exaggeration.”
He trotted over to look at the remains of the houses. All that was left were scattered pieces of dark brown planks and window frames.
Stratum felt the old excitement build up. He wondered what treasures lay buried beneath the soil.
He pulled out his excavation tools and began clearing the ground inside and around the ruined houses.
Soon, he began to pull up pieces of broken urns and jars. His face smiled more and more each time he pulled up a piece. Some of them even had something painted on them!
After a while, he realized that he was squinting and staring at pieces very closely. Looking around, he noticed that it was mostly dark.
Yelping in surprise, he gathered up his tools and collected pieces in haste, running back out towards his campsite. His stomach growled in complaint over the lack of food.
Arriving back at camp, he lit a lamp and marked the position of the village on his map. Quickly downing some food and water, he found himself drowsy enough to just lay down and sleep without getting into his sleeping bag.
Morning arrived too early for Stratum. Normally excited to start digging, his stomach was aching from the gobbled meal of the previous night. He realized that he was going to have to break camp and carry it all to the village to avoid the hours of trek each day.
He moaned, “Oh, am I gonna hafta carry everything over there?” The lack of response from assistants ensured that yes, he would have to carry it all by himself. The effort took a few hours, which was time Stratum considered wasted.
He decided to spend the rest of the day surveying the area and coming up with a plan to dig for basic artifacts. He didn’t want to spend too long here. He only had enough food for a couple of more weeks. That didn’t even count the travel back to Canterlot. He sincerely hoped that he could hitch a ride in Ponyville when this was over.
The short, yellow stallion marked off seven houses and the pile of stone blocks. That seemed to be a little small for a village. He walked around but didn’t see anything else. He gazed at the landscape, wondering what he was missing.
His gaze settled on the edge of the mountain base. His eyes followed it as it wrapped around to the north. He thought he saw a faint change in the natural slope of the mountainside.
He trotted over to the north side of the mountain and saw there was a massive stone door carved right into the north face of the mountain. It was surrounded by many piles of finished stone blocks. The door was carved with faded and worn symbols. The door itself looked like it had weathered too many weather storms without maintenance. A few still-standing walls were scattered around the area.
Stratum tried counting the blocks, estimating that at least half of them had to have been used for vertical size. He stopped when he decided that it must have been at least a two story building with several rooms on each level.
He picked up a block and tapped it against another block. Both blocks split down the middle, crumbling into shards.
He mentioned excitedly, “Wow! This must be at least a thousand years old, maybe more! This might even be older than Princess Celestia! I gotta write this down!”
He spent the remaining hours of the day scribbling sketches of the site in his notebook, making notations on the plan to dig for transportable items back to Canterlot. This would make him famous!
The next day he woke up early just to start digging around ruins of the stone building in front of the stone door. Throughout the day, he dug down three inches all over the layout to get a cross-section of what might be just underhoof.
He found several more pieces of broken pottery as well as spearheads made of stone. One of the spearheads was discolored with a dark, rusty color. Stratum blanched when he wondered what kind of living thing was made not-so-living in the Everfree Forest.
The short, yellow stallion took some time examining the wall of the ruins, hoping for some kind of inscriptions as to pony life in that time. He was disappointed. The walls were bare except for signs of weathering…and claw marks…and burn marks?
Stratum got a bad feeling about this place and how it met its end. Maybe the houses were burned down. What would have done this? Dragon? Enemy army? Something else?
Feeling an urge to examine the stone door, he walked over and stared at it closely. In the waning light, he thought he saw faded inscriptions of a very complex nature.
A stray breeze blew in, knocking dust off of the door. Stratum got an idea.
Even though he might regret it later, he used the water from his canteen to wash the door of dust and grime. After an hour of labor, he was rewarded with a spectacular sight.
Every inch of the door was painted in depictions of a great event. There were several scenes form top to bottom like a visual story. No words or even runes were painted in.
In the first scene were a few dozen earth ponies living in a large village next to the mountain. There were no pegasi or unicorns painted.
In the next scene was a hole opened in the mountain and a huge black beetle came forth.
In the next scene was the beetle eating an earth pony while destroying the victim’s house.
In the next scene was an army of earth ponies using many different types of weapons upon the beetle’s back. Swords, axes, and many spears. All weapons broke and did not hurt the beetle.
In the next scene was an earth pony in robes and a laurel praying to the night sky. A kind of rock was falling to the ground while on fire.
In the next scene several earth ponies were fighting off several huge beetles by using spears tipped with a shiny, silvery substance. In fact, there were actual bits of the shiny metal imbedded in the door. One of the spearheads was missing.
In the last scene was the earth pony wearing robes and laurel carving the stone door and painting on it. Behind him the village was burned and destroyed. Many earth ponies were leaving the village.
Stratum felt moved by the story. He stepped up for a closer look at the depiction of the earth pony in robe and laurel. The artwork bore resemblances to pony art styles over two thousand years in the past. His hoof stepped on something.
He dug in the dust an inch before he found something. Picking it up, he saw it was the missing piece of the door. It was a triangular bit of very shiny metal. It was remarkably light.
Suddenly, he thought he felt a low rumbling. He looked at the door. The door jumped as if something from behind it tried to ram it.
Stratum jumped back, absently putting his canteen and bit of metal in his saddlebags. The door jumped again, this time cracking. There was a kind of clicking sound from behind the door and a howl.
The door jumped once more, widening the crack. The short, yellow pony ran back to his campsite. He hurriedly grabbed all of his tools and notes. Stuffing them into his saddlebags, he ran back to Ponyville, fear plainly evident on his face.
From behind the painted stone door there was silence.
Then there was a clicking sound.
Then there were many clicking sounds.