Rainbow Dash and the Treasure of Canterlot

by Insert Pen Name

Part I: Party Favours

        One of the more lamentable things about Equestrian history is how little most ponies actually know about it. Talk to any school-age colt or filly, for example, and they’ll be able to tell you all about such major events as the great Exodus to Equestria in the year AE1, the Nightmare Moon crisis of 1010, the first official Summer Sun Celebration in 1272, and the resulting Burning of Manehatten by revellers in the same year. What they will be sorely unable to tell you, however, is the vast historical importance of parties.

Concerned parents and prudish sociophobes alike will likely tell you that parties never accomplish anything, but statistically speaking, that is complete bunk. In over two-thousand years of Equestrian history, parties have produced countless priceless works of art, several major inventions, three pieces of important legislation, at least one major war and subsequent peace-treaty, and (depending on the type of party in question) a considerable chunk of the Equestrian population. Parties are the lifeblood of Equestrian society, and any pony worth their salt will always be sure to attend as many parties as they can, because the next one might just be a revolutionary experience.

This was not one of those parties.

It could barely even be called a party in any conventional sense of the word. It was one of those dull, insipid social affairs that serve little purpose but to provide the rich and wealthy with a thinly veiled excuse to lord it over one-another while their middle-class counterparts sit on the sidelines and wonder what the hell it’s all about. In the latter category in particular stood a sky-blue pegasus mare with a rainbow mane and a khaki jacket.

Rainbow Dash was in way over her head, and she knew it. As much as she liked to boast of her unwavering courage and boundless skill, even she had her limits. Sonic rainbooms? No problem. Swarms of changelings? Easy as pie. Fancy parties? Ah, now that’s where things got difficult. Of course, Rainbow rarely attended such social gatherings, and was invited even less, but there are exceptions to every rule, and so it was that Rainbow Dash now found herself standing awkwardly in the midst of the Annual Royal Canterlot Archaeological Society Ball.

        When Twilight Sparkle had first approached her with the invitation, Rainbow had been naturally elated, as would any fan of the fictional exploits of the famous Daring Do. The paperback heroine’s tales of treacherous villains, ancient ruins and priceless artifacts had ensnared Dash through many a sleepless night, and before long, the young pegasus had found herself enraptured with the idea of archaeology. Her fantasies about joining and subsequently leading the Wonderbolts still dominated the bulk of her frequent daydreams, but now every so often the blue and gold bodysuit would be replaced by a khaki jacket and bull-whip, and her sonic rainbooms would give way to lost temples and golden idols. So when Twilight had offered Dash the opportunity to mingle with actual archaeologists, the vibrant pegasus had accepted without hesitation.

        Now, Dash was beginning to regret her enthusiasm. As she stood amidst the small crowds of chattering party-goers, she began to feel especially self-conscious about her choice of attire. After receiving her invitation, Rainbow had hurried to Rarity’s boutique and asked her friend to outfit her with the jacket and pith helmet combo that she was sure all archaeologists habitually wore. Rarity had, of course, refused on the grounds that khaki was currently on her list of colours that she would sooner gnaw her own leg off at the knee rather than use, and so Rainbow had to obtain her outfit from a costume store instead.

        She was now starting to regret that decision as well. Most of the guests weren’t even archaeologists at all, but rather nobles and socialites who seemed more interested in affecting a scholarly image than listening about thousand year-old pottery. They, of course were dressed in all their finery, and even those who were actual archaeologists had apparently eschewed their khakis for more formal attire. At first, Dash hadn’t really paid much heed to this fact, that is until one particularly petulant stallion had walked up to her and remarked; “Nice hat.”

        The pith helmet was now leading its own solitary existence in a nearby punchbowl.

        “Aaargh, how did I let Twilight talk me into this?” groaned Rainbow to herself.

        She remembered.

        “Oh, right. So much for archaeology.”

        Having finally accepted that she might not meet any whip-wielding adventurers at this particular party, Dash decided that she might as well try and make the most of things. To this end she headed over to a nearby punchbowl (the one without a pith helmet in it), where a small group of noblemares were conversing in tasteful tones.

        “S’cuse me,” said Dash, as she slipped past one of the mares to the punchbowl.

        “Oh pardon me, I did not- Hey! Who let you in here?!” demanded the mare, noting Rainbow’s less than formal khaki jacket.

        “I came with a friend,” said Dash bluntly. “You might have heard of her? She’s real close to the Princess...”

        That put the mare in her place.

        “Oh, sorry, I... your outfit, it’s just...”

        “What about my outfit?” asked Dash with a raised eyebrow.

        “N-nothing,” said the mare finally. “It’s quite... charming in its simplicity.”

        “So in other words, you think it looks trashy,” accused Rainbow, recalling a number of similar conversations with Rarity.

        The mare did not answer. An awkward silence descended around the punchbowl. With a look of smug satisfaction, Dash helped herself to a glass of punch, but the other guests continued to stare at her with palpable unease. And the more they stared, the more Dash began to feel a knot growing in her stomach. Having an audience was one thing; being stared at was another matter entirely.

        “So, uh, archaeology, eh?” said Rainbow with a nervous chuckle. “You a fan?”

        “Hardly,” sniffed one of the other noblemares. “Honestly, digging in the dirt for some thousand year-old piece of rubbish. Hardly seems like a scholarly profession to me.”

        “It’s not ‘rubbish’,” said Dash sharply. “Those are important artifacts they’re digging up!”

        “If they’re so important, then why were they thrown away to buried in the first place?”

        Dash facehooved. This was not an argument she cared to have. With a sigh, she took her leave of the other guests and headed straight for a particularly uncomfortable-looking chair by the far wall. She sat in it and found that while looks can often be deceiving, such was not the case in this particular situation. After attempting several varying sitting positions, Dash finally gave up and decided that she would just have to take it like a mare.

        “Stupid party,” she grumbled to herself. “Where’s Pinkie Pie when you need her?”

        Rainbow cast a dire eye around the room, in the desperate hope that her energetic friend would suddenly leap out from some inexplicable hiding place and promptly fill the room with a flurry of confetti, streamers and various other airborne choking hazards. Alas, the pink party-pony of Ponyville was nowhere to be seen. Even Twilight seemed to have disappeared on her. Grumbling, Rainbow slumped in her seat and cast a scornful eye at the gathered party-goers.

        Off to her right, a scholarly-looking pony in a dark professorial gown had been cornered by a band of socialites, who were now talking the poor stallion’s ear off about some vapid subject or another. The scholar’s eyes darted desperately about for any hint of an escape, and in his moment of need they alighted on Dash, who merely responded with an inferior shrug and left the stallion to his fate. She was in the middle of a perfectly good mope, and simply had no desire to play heroine at the moment.

        Time passed...

        “Having a good time, Miss Dash?”

        “Wah!”

        Rainbow roused from her jaded stupor and sat bolt upright in her chair, bringing herself face-to-face with the stallion who had addressed her. He was a fairly handsome pony, though several years her senior at least, with a pure white coat and a fine blue moustache adorning his face. Blue eyes glinted behind a gold-rimmed monocle, and he wore a smile on his face that simply radiated calm, collected confidence in no small measure. Rainbow recognised the older stallion almost immediately.

        “Hey, I know you,” she said. “You’re that Fancy Pants guy everypony’s always going on about.”

        “Indeed,” said Fancy Pants with a chuckle. “I was afraid I had you at a disadvantage, Miss Rainbow Dash, but I see you are quick on the take as always.”

        “Heh, thanks,” said Rainbow, always appreciative of a compliment. “So what brings you to this party?”

        “A more astute question would be ‘what brings this party to me?’” answered Fancy Pants. “This is my home, you see. I myself am an esteemed member of the Royal Canterlot Archaeological Society, and this year I kindly offered to host the society’s annual ball, free of charge.”

        “Really? That was cool of you,” said Rainbow, and she meant it.

        “Thank-you, but you haven’t yet answered my question,” smiled Fancy Pants. “I asked if you were having a good time?”

        “Oh. Well, yeah, of course I am,” Rainbow lied. “I mean, you got a big room full of big-shots like you, what’s not to like?”

        “Is that so?” chuckled Fancy Pants. “Forgive me, I was under the impression that you were hoping for something a bit more... ‘daring’...”

        That did it. It wasn’t an easy task to make Rainbow feel childish, but Fancy Pants had gone and managed it with a single word. Her face flush, Dash turned her head away and slumped even lower into the chair in what she hoped to hay was an undignified manner. The white unicorn merely chortled to himself.

        “Now, now, no need to be such a poor sport about it. To tell the truth, I too am finding this gathering a bit dull.”

        Rainbow cocked her head at the grinning aristocrat.

        “Really?”

        “Oh yes,” nodded Fancy Pants. “Tell you what, why don’t you come with me, hmm? I know of something that might interest you...”

        With a resigned shrug, Rainbow pulled herself out of the chair and followed Fancy Pants to a doorway at the other end of the room. With a courteous bow, Fancy Pants held the door for the prismatic pegasus, who entered the room without a second thought and stopped in amazement at what she saw.

        It was a small room, plainly decorated with white walls and a polished hardwood floor. The furnishings however, made Dash feel like she had just stepped into a museum. And not just any old museum, the awesome kind! All around the room, an impressive array of sleek glass cabinets and display cases lined the walls, each one filled with all manner of unique artifacts. Rainbow’s eyes widened in captivation.

        “Now this is what I came to see!”

 Like a foal in a, well, a museum, Rainbow bounded along from exhibit to exhibit, while Fancy Pants followed indulgently behind, explaining each artifact in turn as they passed. There were beaded talismans and stone spear-heads from the Paleopony Period, vividly decorated pots and jars, lifelike marble busts with flaking paint, bronze coins from far-off lands, and even an amethyst pendant that had once belonged to Princess Platinum herself.

        “Is all this yours?” asked Rainbow, her eyes glazed with wonder.

        “Certainly not!” laughed Fancy Pants. “This is the society’s collection; my own private collection is rather more... modest, I’m afraid. You see, Miss Dash, I have a rare passion for antiquities. Ever since I was a colt. I find they instill a certain... humility that is sorely lacking in this day and age. You and I are merely passing through history, Miss Dash, but this...” he gestured all around the room, “this is history. And to hold a piece of it in one’s hooves...”

        Fancy Pants suddenly grew very quiet. For a minute, Dash wondered if perhaps she ought to leave the older stallion and his reminiscences alone for a while, but almost immediately he perked back up again and turned to Rainbow with excitement in his eyes.

        “But come now, I haven’t shown you the best part! Come over here to the table.”

        Fancy Pants guided Dash to a broad lectern in the centre of the room that had been neatly covered in a white linen sheet. Dash cocked her head in curiosity, intrigued at the possibility of what lay underneath.

        “Shall we take a look?” asked Fancy Pants in a conspiratorial manner.

        “Are we allowed?” responded Dash.

        “I doubt anypony will complain. Come now, let’s see.”

        With a flourish of his horn, the sheet was quickly engulfed in the glow of magic and lifted gracefully from the lectern, revealing underneath it a large, flat slab of carven black stone, covered in intricate writing. Intrigued, Rainbow leaned forward for a better look. The letters, carved into the stone with impeccable skill, were of some ancient runic script, and were completely unfamiliar to her.

        “What is this?” she asked. “What’s it say?”

        “I’m afraid I do not know,” answered Fancy Pants. “The servants tell me it was discovered in a storage room in the royal palace. Evidently Princess Celestia intended to have it examined by somepony here at the party.”

        “Which is where we come in,” said a serene voice from behind.

        Fancy Pants jumped at the voice like a foal with his hooves in the cookie jar, but Dash barely even stirred, having rather grown accustomed to the sound of that voice, and its owner’s tendency to appear as if from nowhere at opportune times. Instead, she merely turned and bowed as the regal form of Princess Celestia stepped gracefully into the room, followed eagerly by her purple protege.

        “There you are,” said Twilight, fixing Rainbow with playful glare. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

        “Heh, sorry, Fancy Pants here was just showing me around.”

        “I thought your friend might like to see a bit of real archaeology,” said Fancy Pants.

        “Oh, she’ll have no shortage of that,” said Celestia with a coy grin. “In any event you’ve saved us a bit of trouble Mr. Pants. I was hoping Miss Rainbow Dash would be present for this unveiling. I just wish Twilight and I had been present as well.”

        “Ah, well, uh...”

        Fortunately for Fancy Pants, salvation arrived in the form of a gentle knock on the door. A moment later, a slender unicorn mare with a pink mane poked her head into the room.

        “Fancy, dear, everypony’s waiting for you,” she said in a softly accented voice.

        “Ah, of course, I’ll be right out, my dear,” he said hurriedly, leaning in to kiss his mistress on the cheek. “I suppose I’ll take my leave then; have to give my little speech and what-not. Do enjoy the rest of the party, Miss Dash.”

        With Fancy Pants gone, Princess Celestia calmly directed Twilight’s attention to the carved stone slab before them. Twilight’s eyes widened at the sight of the artifact, her hooves quivered with academic excitement as she ran them over the smooth black stone.

        “Amazing...” she breathed. “And you say you found it in a storage room?”

        “It happens far more often than you’d think, my good pupil,” explained Celestia. “Something important gets put away for whatever reason and everypony just forgets about it for a hundred years or so. The same thing happened to a portrait of mine once.”

        “So what is it?” asked Rainbow.

        “I was actually hoping Twilight could tell us,” replied Celestia with an indulgent grin. “Well, Twilight?”

        “Well let’s see....” began Twilight. “It’s granite... carved by hoof.... the runes are Eohippine, but the language is plain Equestrian. That’s interesting.”

        “So you can read it then?” asked Celestia with a growing smile.

        “Of course I can read it, you taught me!” laughed Twilight.

        “What’s it say then?” asked Rainbow impatiently.

        Twilight paused, perusing the runes carefully. Then she read aloud:

        “You who desire elder wisdom, take heed... seek the city of the boundless garden... past the unblinking sentries... beneath the seventh column... to the sepulchre of silent stone, where the last-”

        Twilight suddenly stopped. Her eyes widened as she realised what she was reading.

        “... where the last dying image of those before awaits in darkness.”

        Celestia was simply beaming with suppressed excitement.

        “The White Crest, Twilight Sparkle. Discovered in the long ages of myth before the founding of Equestria. Prized by kings, treasured by scholars, and once thought to be lost forever... until now.”

        “Oh my gosh...” breathed Twilight as she raised a trembling hoof to her chest. “Oh my gosh... This is just.. wow.”

        Rainbow was rather less impressed.

        “Hold on,” she said. “Back up. Am I missing something here?”

        “The White Crest!” exclaimed Twilight, eliminating the distance between herself and Dash in the blink of an eye. “The White Crest!”

        “Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time. Just what is the White Crest?”

        “Only the single most important artifact in history!”

        “Sorry. Never heard of it,” said Dash bluntly.

        “Never?”

        “Nope, never.”

        “Oh. well, would you like to hear about it now?”

        “How about you get out of my personal bubble first?” suggested Dash.

        “Oh, sorry.”

        “Perhaps you’d best start from the beginning, Twilight,” soothed Celestia. “It is not an easy story to tell.”

        “Right,” nodded Twilight breathlessly, her heart-rate gradually returning to some semblance of normalcy. “Well, the White Crest is an artifact, you see, probably the most important artifact in history.”

        “Yeah, you mentioned that,” said Rainbow flatly. “What is it though, a treasure or something?”

        “Kind of. The written descriptions are pretty vague, but the Crest is said to be a statuette, made of silver or white gold, hence the name.”

        “What about the inscription?” asked Dash. “What does ‘last dying image of those before’ mean?”

“Well, I don’t know about the last part, but generally the Crest is believed to depict some sort of figure in a death pose,” continued Twilight.

        “So, it’s a silver statue of a dead pony?” stated Rainbow incredulously.

        “Pretty much... Actually no. Silver statue, yes. But it’s not a pony.”

        “Sorry?”

        “It’s like I said to Twilight,” explained Celestia. “The Crest was once the prize of many a great pony. However, it is not a pony artifact. It was discovered, not made.”

        Dash’s eyes widened at this revelation.

        “So... something else made it? But... who?”

        “Nopony knows,” answered Twilight. “Ponies aren’t the only civilized race in the world, after all. There are a lot of pretty wild theories though; some even go so far as to say the Crest has mystical powers, and is even older than ponykind itself, but obviously that’s all just a load of horseapples.”

        “Twilight!” gasped Celestia in surprise.

        “Sorry,” mumbled Twilight with a blush.

        “Okay, so it’s made of silver, it’s a statue of something... dead, and it wasn’t made by ponies,” recounted Dash. “So where did it come from?”

        “Ah, now there’s a question,” murmured Celestia.

        “The earliest mention of the White Crest in pony history comes from the Secret History of the Pegasi, written over two-hundred years before the Equestrian Exodus,” lectured Twilight. Apparently, the Crest was given to the Pegasi by one of the caribou tribes of northern Cervada as a ‘peace offering’. By their own account, the deer discovered it beneath a ‘great mound of stones’, though they didn’t say when or where.”

        “How do we know they didn’t make it?” asked Dash.

        “An astute question,” said Celestia. “The caribou are nomadic; they have many skills, but silversmithing is not one of them. And if the descriptions are to be believed, the Crest was something far beyond the skill of most pony smiths at the time.”

        “After that, the Crest changed hooves a number of times until it finally ended up in the possession of Princess Platinum of the Unicorns,” continued Twilight. “The last mention of the Crest says that Platinum brought it with her to Equestria. After that, the trail goes cold.”

        “Until now...” said Celestia with a smile.

        A strange feeling suddenly came over Rainbow. Almost like... anticipation.

        “So this stone... tells us where the Crest is...” she realized with swelling enthusiasm.

        “Precisely,” replied Celestia. “With the information provided, the Crest can finally be recovered. And I can think of no better ponies to do so than the two who are standing right in front of me. My faithful student and her most daring friend, both devoted archaeologists...”

        Rainbow suddenly felt very awkward beneath her jacket. Twilight on the other hand stared intensely at the Princess with wide eyes and an unflattering grin plastered across her face. Beaming, Celestia bent down closer to the two mares.

        “So what do you say, girls?” she asked in an excited whisper. “Ready to make history?”

        A pause...

        “YES!!!” cried Twilight, punctuating her answer with a tremendous vertical leap. “Yes, yes, yes, yes!”

        Celestia giggled warmly to herself.

        “And you thought archaeology was boring,” she said to Rainbow.

        “No, I thought fancy parties were boring,” laughed Rainbow. “So when do we start?”

        “Right now!” exclaimed Twilight. “Oh there’s so much to do; I’ve got to look over the inscription again, research potential locations, organise supplies, I-”

        She suddenly paused. A manic glint appeared in her eye as an intense grin spread across her face.

        “I’m going to need a list...”

        Celestia shook her head in an amused fashion.

        “Why don’t you go ahead and enjoy the rest of the party, Rainbow. I’ll deal with Twilight.”

        Seeing the wisdom in the Princess’ words, Rainbow sank to her knees in a reverent bow, then departed for the main room. Almost immediately she was approached by a unicorn waiter levitating a silver tray, upon which Dash was surprised to see her discarded pith helmet.

        “Excuse me, Miss Dash?” said the waiter politely. “Mister Fancy Pants asked that this be restored to you.”

        “Oh... thanks, I guess,” said Dash, taking the helmet by her hoof. “Hey, wasn’t this in the punchbowl earlier?”

        “We have very talented dry-cleaners, Miss Dash,” replied the waiter curtly.

        “Oh, well, thanks again.”

        The waiter nodded politely.

        “Enjoy your evening, Miss Dash.”

        Rainbow eyed her helmet idly for a moment. A smug grin spread slowly across her face. Chuckling to herself, she placed the redeemed headgear firmly upon her head and set out for the nearest tray of hors ‘d'oeuvres. It was time these snobs learned what a real archaeologist looked like.