//------------------------------// // Chapter 10 // Story: The Forbidden // by CMDR Kovacs //------------------------------// 102 Years Ago, Dragon Badlands All around the smoking caldera were dragons. Some were red with great, sloping horns and gold coins stuck in their scales as they napped. Some were blue, with a thundering horn spearing into the air, ears unfurled as they basked in the heavy sulfuric heat. These were but a few of the sheer amount of dragons in this volcanic chain, and all around the adults were whelps and youth that frolicked and played. Many of them were very attentive while the whelps played in the lava, but none of them were paying heed to the slight shimmering of air at the summit of a thirteen metre-tall granite hoodoo. Shortly after that, everything happened at once. A flash of blues and greens and reds tore the sky itself asunder as the strength of an antimatter charge ripped into the fabric of another universe than its world of origin. If the blinding light show wasn’t enough, the resounding cracks and snapping of the pillar would surely have attracted the attention of anything from leagues around. And, if one would listen closely, they could faintly hear the mechanically filtered screaming of a man that was hurtling at high speeds into the atmosphere, all while on fire. Surely this had to be too rare an event, to be ignored with such gusto! Nope, nothing out of the ordinary, whatsoever. The adult dragons took one glance at the resulting flash of light, almost ignoring the destruction of the hoodoo in the caldera, and went back to sleep. Just another strange happenstance for the younger drakes to be distracted by. Such was not the case, however, for the Great Wyrm. As all dragons know, the chain of command should be judged on which dragon is the strongest of the thunder, be it a clique ordered around by a brutish young drake that thinks with his stomach, or a Gathering Storm formed by the Elder dragons. The Great Wyrm did not belong to any thunder, and he had thought it pitiable that the great Dragon Race let itself devolve into such a barbaric state. To the rest of his kind, he is treated as an outcast and a traitor. The Great Wyrm would often muse, “I have remained true to my race. It is you that be named vax to the Dov.” Of course, his lesser brethren showed only scorn to the peaceful-by-nature dragon. Hence why they named him “Wyrm.” In their recent culture, or lack thereof, the word had become an insult. But for the ancient dragon, it was a badge of honor; it was rare for a kind dragon to live to such an age, as his more evil kin would devour any whelp that did not show their evil nature from the egg. So, it would only seem natural that the massive white dragon would study the event from his perch on a neighboring, long-dormant volcano, where the caldera has since solidified and eroded to a somewhat flat summit. “Tiid klo ul!” the dragon stayed where he was, enjoying the light show in slow motion, using the power of the Thu’um granted to all dragonkind, but known to only those that call themselves Dovah. As the Great Wyrm watched, he saw a shape appear in the warped air of the explosion, watching as the magic put it back together, atom by atom. He was curious, now, and estimated that the magical shockwave would propel the shape, which quickly became the rouge form of one of those irritating diamond dogs. It was at that moment that the Wyrm prepared to rush to its rescue if it couldn’t fly. He watched as the granite spire, for he could see the tip of it from where he was perched, crumble and break apart. The creature was propelled into the air with great force, flames and smoke trailing from behind. The Great Wyrm almost sighed, but he would save this being, and learn what he can from it. As his Thu’um dissipated and time returned to its normal pace, the Great Wyrm shouted, “Wuld nah kest!” and shot forward with great speed, his Thu’um carrying him halfway to the flailing man. The Great Wyrm soared through the air with but a few powerful beats of his strong, pale wings, and easily found himself under the man in the air. As if sensing the dragon beneath him, the man turned himself in the air, inexplicably slowing his descent a considerable amount, and gracelessly landed between two of the Great Wyrm’s spines, which were easily longer than the man was tall. The Great Wyrm expressed his mirth with a rumble, “Drem yol lok, greetings. How kind of you to, ah, drop in.” “Thanks!” Nikhilus called to the massive dragon, hoping his words pierced the howl of the crosswinds. “I honestly wasn’t expecting to see a dovah, especially one so large,” he chuckled almost helplessly as he curled one arm around a spine. “I see that you are familiar with the Dov. Zu’u Kahdremonik.” “Nice to meet you, Kahdremonik. I am called Nikhilus. I hope you’ll pardon me if I don’t know much of the Dovahzul, I’m still learning. What are you doing away from Nirn?” Nikhilus tried breaking the ice with the dragon, a small, irrational part of him hoping that he won’t be eaten. The Spectre could feel the anger radiating from the dragon. “Alduin. He tried to kill me, but my friend, Paarthurnax, interfered. I was but a whelp then, and I have been here for nearly three thousand years.” “Well, then you’ll be happy to know that Alduin was slain,” the human offered as he carefully made his way to Kahdremonik’s head for a better vantage. “Hah,” the Wyrm scoffed. “I’ll believe that when I see his qoth, his tomb.” “I’m not sure that’s entirely possible. The Dovahkiin claimed that his body disintegrated in Sovngarde after his defeat. If I can find a way to get you home, then you can ask Paarthurnax yourself. He resides on the Throat of the World.” Kahdremonik slowed his flight in order to land at the mouth of his cavern, “Well whatever the truth may be, I have been here for as long as I can remember. If Alduin is dead, I would happily return to Nirn. But for now, I will teach you what I know of this world, and in exchange, you may tell me how far my world has come.” [/HR] “I no sure we should be here, Rex,” a German Shepherd murmured to a black and grey husky. “Shut up, Hunter. Dragon is out, so we go take gold and be rich!” the bipedal dog growled to his equally bipedal companion. They were both wearing a set of bone armor, the pinkish-white material slightly ribbed with gnaw marks from teeth and flint alike. The cloths were black in color, and the dogs wore skulls as headdresses. If a human historian were to see them, he would likely compare the armor to a bastardized set from ancient Rome. The dog called Hunter whined slightly, but reluctantly followed Rex, shifting a lightly rusted sword that would look more at home on a wheat farm, and a sleeker one that looked better with the outfit, but was somewhat crude in the dog’s paw. It bore dents and chips along its blade edge, and appeared as if it hadn’t been sharpened or given an oil-bath in decades. The cave was less a cave and more of a sinkhole. Originally, it was a nexus of lava tubes from the volcano underneath, but it had gone extinct two thousand years ago, making for an amazing labyrinth of seven-metre tall natural tunnels weaving throughout the structure of the mountain with a massive shaft near the center leading down through the planet’s crust. Anyone who enjoys spelunking would marvel and awe at the sight of such a complex, as seeing one in person is a one in a hundred million chance. The diamond dogs ignored it, however, as they see tunnels whenever they dig. What they did not ignore was the utter lack of treasure that is normally associated with dragons. Rex vocalized his fury by shouting, “Where is treasure?! Where is gold?! Dragon cheat us!” “Stiildus, mal dok,” the dragon in question descended through the large mouth of the sinkhole. “Be calm. The treasure is here, but not in the form you may think.” “You lie!” Rex howled in rage, drawing his battered claymore in one paw. “You have no gold, so have no treasure!” Nikhilus chose that moment to slide off of Kahdremonik’s neck, hitting the floor with a clunk. “He’s talking about knowledge, that’s the treasure.” The dogs were stunned at the sight of the human. Rex turned angry, pounding the ground with his feet. Hunter’s reaction was the opposite of his friend’s, and almost seemed to drool at the prospect of learning new things...Wait, he was drooling, if the slick, wet plop on the gneisse floor was any indication. “Well, at least one of you is happy,” the Spectre needlessly pointed out. The Great Wyrm nodded sagely, “Yes, I shall enjoy teaching this one. Now, what are you called?” Hunter was the one to answer while Rex was absolutely fuming, venting anger by slamming his blade into the volcanic ground repeatedly. “I am Hunter, that my pack-brother Rex. We come look for treasure. Rex think books not treasure, but I think they are! Will you show me books?” the shepherd answered excitedly, his wagging tail somehow making him appear cute, despite his rather gruesome attire. “Of course, Hunter. You, as well as your pack brother, are welcome to learn from my collection. You need only ask,” was Kahdremonik’s rumbling reply. [/HR] “Damn, what the Lord Marshal wouldn’t annihilate just to get this stuff,” Nikhilus muttered in awe. Kahdremonik craned his neck to peer at the human, “While that is surely...unsettling, I would more than happily share this knowledge with your Lord Marshal. Of course, I would much prefer that he ask me himself, rather than storm my home and plunder this library of mine.” The dragon and company of three continued to walk, or lumber, through the tunnels, which were lined with carved in shelves. The shelves in turn, were filled with books and scrolls, and when Nikhilus pulled one from a shelf, “The Biography of Star-Swirl the Bearded,” found that they were likely all in English or Dovahzul. “In this library of mine, I hold more than seven hundred thousand written works, not including their translations. There is no other place in this world like it, I can assure you,” the Great Wyrm rumbled with pride, proving the first part of his name true. “I have, through painstaking try after try, managed to create copies of every single scroll and tome in the Royal Library of Canterlot, including every spell and magical discovery made by Star-Swirl the Bearded.” Hunter wasn’t paying much attention to the dragon’s words, and was more focused on almost drooling over the vast wealth of knowledge of this world. Having traveled there himself, Nikhilus could claim that this library could rival that of Hermaeus Mora’s Apocrypha, but that would not be entirely true. Perhaps the equivalent to one Black Book? As for Rex, the husky was still angry, but more bored than he was three hours ago, when the tour of the library had started. “What does books have do with us?” he growled belligerently. Hunter snapped out of his stupor to look at his comrade, “Books have knowing to share, and me want know what books say!” “That is a noble want, little one. To lust for knowledge is a wonderful thing to have, and I am rather happy to have someone to teach all I know. Perhaps you have the Thu’um?” Kahdremonik turned to Nikhilus, “You are knowledgeable of the Dov, and of some of our tongue. I could teach you to use your Voice in the way we Dov are able to.” Nikhilus nodded half-heartedly, “While that is a nice offer, Kahdremonik, I’m afraid I cannot accept. I need to know where in the universe I am before making any long-term commitments, and it is clear to me that you’ll far survive me.” “Vahzah, true. My offer still remains, should you ever decide to seek it.” “Thank you, diiv,” Nikhilus conceded. The group walked in silence, save for the dogs arguing over the worth of books, with a few shared glances between jul ahrk dovah, the latter seeming to know what the former was thinking, despite the helmet adorning his head. [/HR] Royal Archives, Present Day “Such a shame, that the malkey have not progressed much further in the previous century in either magic or science,” a large frost white thestral with a stone grey mane and tail rumbled, a black rune emblazoned on his flanks. His cold, blue eyes shown in the dark, the vertical slits dilated in the ambient light of the castle library as he searched every shelf for something new to record for his own library in the Badlands. Kahdremonik, known under his alias of Frost Wing in the Lunar Guard, was recently accepted into the Magic Council for his extensive knowledge of runes, despite not being a unicorn. Any rune in the world, especially the ones found in the Badlands, was Frost Wing’s expertise. When he had first made his appearance in Equestria nineteen months ago, shortly after perfecting a shape-changing Thu’um, the Royal Guard had been dispatched to locate any thestral that was of age, and enlist them in the Lunar Guard for the returning Princess Luna. While Kahdremonik appreciated the new perks of being a guard, he had been forced to reveal his true shape to Princess Luna when the Thu’um had worn off in the middle of Night Court. While it was not too much of a problem, due to very few ponies ever being awake at the time it happened, he had almost begged the Princess of the Night and his fellow guards to speak nothing of it to Celestia and the Day Guard. Frost Wing’s true identity is now a closely guarded secret of Luna and her fifty thestrals. During the many nights when there was no Night Court assigned for the evening, Kahdremonik would teach the Princess how to harness her own Thu’um, and because it involved shouting, she had taken to it rather quickly. Her late-night practice of the Thu’um with her dragon companion had broken a few windows, but they were quickly repaired with a bit of magic here and there. And, as a happy side effect of being near a dragon often, the Night Guard was learning the tongue, picking up some phrases on occasion. In addition, with Luna’s return, magical research had picked up from “Jack-Shit” to “Actually Something,” in the terms of one particular human that the dragon knew. Science had also started to make a fair amount of prominence, as well, when Kahdremonik had gotten some ideas for improving many of the technological items the ponies had. So, by using his own research on spectral projection, he had managed to create a visual communicator that would link up one enchanted and alchemically altered crystal to another as long as they had the correct gigaHertz frequency, as Nikhilus referred to it in his introduction of his helmet communicator’s functions. “Yes, it is rather pitiful, isn’t it?” Princess Cadence interrupted Frost Wing’s abstracted train of thought. “I would like to know why you referred to us as ‘malkey.’” The dragon in disguise nodded, “Malkey is what the Dov call your people. In our tongue, it means ‘little horse,’ but I would not have expected you to know that.” Cadence raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean, ‘our tongue?’ It was my belief that the thestrals, or Dov, as you call yourself, shared the same tongue as the rest of ponykind? Am I wrong in that assumption?” Kahdremonik swore silently. He had already come close to giving himself away. Might as well roll with it, he thought. “No, your highness. You are not incorrect in the assumption that we share the Equestrian language,” he had carefully thought about that particular sentence in order to confirm the pink princess’ inquiry. It appeared to have worked, as Cadence smiled in relief, “Ah, good. I was afraid I had broken some sort of taboo.” “No, my dear princess,” Frost Wing shook his head. “You do not need to worry about that. If you do something to offend me, you would be dead before you realized it,” he finished in a cheerful tone. That last comment had stopped Cadence cold, both afraid for herself, worried for the thestral’s sanity, and angry at his nonchalant threat toward an Equestrian Princess. It wasn’t until he turned back with a twinkle in his draconic eye that assuaged her worry, but it still hadn’t stopped her from treading eggshells around the Night Guard from now on. Kahdremonik turned around to leave, but stopped suddenly. Perhaps I should reveal myself to her, he thought. When Princess Cadence waved a hoof in his face, asking if he was okay, the dragon had been standing in the same pose for a few minutes with the pink princess attempting elicit a response. “Aalkos gaav ahk wuth fah daar,” he rumbled as he thought about how often he had been getting distracted by his own thoughts. “I, I’m sorry?” Cadence prompted. Kahdremonik breathed in deeply, now appearing more draconic than before. The Thu’um is waning, he thought as he felt his ears harden into his original horns. “We need to leave the Archives, go to an open area, such as the courtyard. Now.” And he stormed away, his pace a canter, yet moving as if he were simply walking. “What? Wait!” Cadence called to the dragon before galloping to catch up. Is it just me, or did he seem bigger than he was a moment ago? “Where are we going?” Kahdremonik gave no answer before he jumped through the open window at the end of the corridor. Cadence could have sworn she saw a scaly tail instead of hair before he disappeared from sight. Looking around in a bit of dismay, she checked to see if anyone was around before she followed him out to the Royal Gardens below, completely ignoring the descending human dropship above the statues.