Seeking Secrets

by Shumiry

Chapter 6

Sweat dripped from him as he made a mad dash for the dilapidated castle.
"Deceitful little...” he muttered at the Necroequicon. No danger indeed! A score of fresh scars, wounds that had only been sealed enough to stop being a threat, crisscrossed his back and arms. The timbrewolves had taken him by surprise, the trio of manticores, on the other hand, were just insane. As he ran, his thoughts drifted back to the book in the Ponyville library that had taunted him. Should've grabbed that when I had the chance, he mused.
The roar from the beasts had fallen behind, indicating that, at least in this, his suspicions had been right. Slipping past the open doors, he turned and watched as the manticores retreated back into the trees. Even the creatures of the Everfree Forest shied away from this place.
After shutting the doors, a largely pointless effort considering the crumbling walls, he walked past the pedestal that had held the previous manifestation of the Elements of Harmony. Even with them having taken up new residence in the mane six, a powerful presence lingered at their old resting place. He experienced a sense of nausea seeming to emanate from the Necroequicon. Makes sense.
Moving on, he entered another room, then another, and finally another before finding what he had been looking for. The yawning mouth of the staircase heading underground seemed eager to swallow him. He could recognize now when the book was prompting him, as he felt the push to head downstairs. His battle HUD wasn't detecting anything dangerous, but it had failed him before, not being programmed for the denizens of this world, and seemingly having detection issues due to the vibrancy.
With a sigh, and a slight tingling of excitement, he began his descent, cracking his last glowgi. This time, the book had his interests at heart, as he entered a large chamber filled with cracked and crumbling bookcases, and all the makings of an arcanist's laboratory. Remarkably, many of the texts were still legible, and had seemingly resisted the ravages of one thousand years.
He set the Necroequicon on a large table in the middle, preparing to take a seat, when a feeling of repulsion washed over him. Stumbling backwards at the ethereal push, he scowled at the book, thinking this some game it was playing. Then he saw half a dozen lights on his HUD. Three books in front of him were outlined in a light blue glow, similar to the one he saw when he moved something telekinetically. Two other texts were highlighted behind him, and a sixth on the far end of the room.
Grasping each in turn, he levitated them to the table, then tried to sit down again, this time succeeding.
He opened the first book on the table. “Oh what the hay!?” The text inside was a mishmash of shapes, utterly undecipherable. As he stared at it in a vain hope of understanding, another book began to glow again. Flipping the cover back, he saw it was filled with words he could read. Telekinesis.
“Clever girl.” he muttered. Closing the book on telekinesis caused the text in the translator to disappear, and opening any of the other books made new text show up. Intent, shapeshifting, teleporting, and runecraft. With a grin on his face and a light in his eyes, he dove in.
The opportunity to learn something that had been denied him so long by his own dimension was not to be squandered. Voraciously he devoured the information in the books, finding new ways to wrap his mind around the techniques. He realized he'd been thinking about teleportation completely wrong, and was soon able to warp around the room with little trouble. The book on runecraft proved one of the most intriguing.
Allegedly it was supposed to be an extremely complicated and dangerous type of magic. If Twilight hadn't been Celestia's protege, he seriously doubted he would've been able to find a text on the subject when he had. Not that it helped, he thought darkly, upset by how weak he was in this world. Even with his increased strength and regeneration, it seemed he was continually encountering creatures that could kill him as easily as look at him. Luck, as much as it galled him to admit it, was at least as responsible for his continued survival as skill. Well that's all about to change!
Under the Necroequicon's tutelage, he made short work of all the subjects. As he was reading one book, another might light up mid-chapter, which he would find contained topics of relevance to what he was studying. His HUD guided him to some preserved ingredients used to make dyes for runecraft. They contained gems which had been altered to be able to hold and collect magical energy, which then had to be crushed into powder and mixed in with the other ingredients.
With the Necroequicon's assistance, he was able to trace a complicated rune onto his chest, which would gather sunlight, converting it into energy to strengthen and rejuvenate him, and form a bond between his mind and his nanobots, allowing him to continuously update their programming simply by his thoughts.
By the morning of his twelfth day in Equestria, he was starting to feel like his old self again. Powerful. A force to be reckoned with. He could teleport with ease, lift almost four tons telekinetically by transferring part of the strain to his body, and construct basic magical machinations. Machines inspired by those he knew in hell, but built of magic, capable of running at hitherto impossible efficiencies so long as they had a power source to draw from. Finally, as he finished reading a chapter on shapeshifting which had explained some of the more sordid details of molding flesh, another book lit up on his HUD.
The Necroequicon.
Closing the text, he pulled the black book to him, and set his fingers on the edge of the cover. His heart was pounding in his chest. This thing is treacherous. I don't understand its motives or methods, and that puts me in a dangerous position. Though it has taught me much so far, I dare not be drawn into trusting it. Remember the primary edict.
“Never trust anyone,” he muttered. When he opened it, he was confronted by more strange symbols unlike any others he had encountered. Looking upon them filled him with a sense of power. Deep beneath that sense, like a silver thread in a rushing river, he could feel danger as well. Faint, but definitely there. He jolted upright in his seat! Looking at each symbol individually, they made no sense. But when he relaxed his focus, and looked at a section of the page, the meaning became clear.
Images swam through his mind as clarity came to him. He could read it! He could learn it! A dark grin spread across his face.
“It's mine...” he whispered to no one in particular.
Princess Luna sat atop the tower of her old castle, trying to stop the shivering that was hitting her in waves. Coming back here had triggered old memories of the Nightmare, the fight with her big sister... With another shudder, tears trailed down her cheeks, falling to the vine-covered stone. She had hoped that visiting this place might help her cope, but these last two nights had been the worst so far. After one last bout of vibrations, she spread her wings and took flight, hoping the feeling of the cool air rushing along her feathers would help calm the storm within. She'd need to speak with Celestia about demolishing the old palace...
Princess Celestia paced in her royal quarters. She'd had several of her best scryers working tirelessly trying to locate the human who had stolen the Necroequicon. The signature of the magic that had transported him disturbed her almost as much as his procurement of the book. What did you see in him? she wondered.
She wanted to trust the dragon's judgment. Wanted to believe that everything would be fine. That the mighty beast had foreseen this and knew nothing bad would come of it. But that smirk! It had stilled her heart to see somepony... no, some human clutching one of the most evil and powerful artifacts she had ever come across. Unbidden, the memories of those days returned to her.
Of her, Luna and Discord, working together to stop the dark cabal. The battle to seal Carryion, Lord of Death behind the black gates of Tartarus. And later, the second battle, during which the seed of Discord's downfall had been planted by Mephistopheles, Lord of Deceit. A single tear trailed down her face as she remembered her failure to recognize the nature of the spell he had wove.
Without Discord's help, they had lacked the power to destroy the book. She and Luna had tried, oh how they'd tried to break it. To free their cherished friend from the clutches of madness, but to no avail. Eventually the Elements of Harmony had made themselves known to the princesses, and they'd been able to stop Discord, but with the Necroequicon still in this world, he could never truly be free of its spell.
And now it was in the hands of a human. She knew of only two others of that species that had come to Equestria, and not even by name. But both had been responsible for the deaths of many. The second, more recent one, had been almost single-handedly responsible for the great pony wars, stirring up dissent and hate, his mere presence breeding resentment and fury among ponykind. She shuddered to think what one under the influence of the Necroequicon could accomplish.
Her first hope had been to speak with the dragon about it, but when she entered the caverns beneath Canterlot, she quickly found that he did not wish to discuss it, as evidenced by her inability to locate his chamber. Initially she had been angry, but now... a cold dread was settling in her gut, especially since the scryers were unable to locate the human, even with her assistance. It could only mean that the book was shielding him, and that meant it was winning.
“Unless the dragon thinks he could master the book...” she mused aloud as she sank into her luxurious bath. The idea did not comfort her. With a bitter sigh she resigned herself to happier thoughts. Her sister had returned and been cured of the Nightmare. Her protege was growing rapidly, becoming a talented and wonderful mare. And the dragon, possibly the oldest, most powerful being she'd ever encountered had assisted the human. Maybe this will all turn out to be a good thing. The thought lacked conviction.
In the basement of the moon castle, the man hunched over the book, enraptured by the secrets it possessed. Secret Seeker she had called him. It seemed as fitting a name as any. His work through the Necroequicon was much slower. Each page contained numerous ideas, each hidden by a pattern of the images. Each corner, a square in the middle, three bars, three columns, other strange patterns would emerge that he would never have thought to notice, but somehow came to his attention.
Seeker knew the book was responsible. Why, however, was a mystery. That's okay though. He thought in his fervor, I am wise and powerful. I survived more than a century in hell. I've made it this far only drawing the attention of a single pony, albeit a princess. I can unravel this conundrum, and master the magic within.
He felt, somehow, Luna depart the castle. For a minute he had sat, unmoving, when her presence had become known to him. He had thought she had figured out his hiding place, but inexplicably he now knew she had not. The book protects me, he mused, returning to his studies. I just need them to leave me alone until I can figure out how to bind myself to Equestria. Then we can make peace and be friends and all that good stuff. A humorless chuckle escaped him.
As he read, he realized he needed a book from the archives. In his mind's eye, he could see the room, and even the shelf on which it resided. The thought of risking another sojourn into Canterlot, knowing that Celestia was likely on high alert, was more than a little unnerving. An involuntary shudder coursed through him as he remembered her assault. He was not yet nearly strong enough to face her should she choose to fight him.
The shapeshifting book lit up on his HUD, and he scooped it up. Opening to the set of pages which were glowing, he flipped open the translator. As he read the passages about establishing the pattern in your mind, and then molding the flesh to fit that pattern, the Necroequicon lit up again, and he flipped it to the pages near the back.
Here there were spells regarding the staying of death, and the resurrection of dead flesh. Secret Seeker remembered the images from when he'd first acquired the book, of the dead unicorn being placed on the table, the gemstone slammed into his chest, his eyes opening as the lifeless corpse became living once more. Something was glowing behind him on his HUD.
Crossing the room, he lifted the lid of a stone trunk. Tucked in the corner, was a large, round diamond. Even from here, he could see the runes etched inside. A soul gem, he thought, unsure of how he knew. With a burst of understanding, he went back to the mixing table where he had put the rune dye together, and picked up the knife he'd used to chop the ingredients. Instructing his nanobots telepathically to deaden the nerves in his left leg, he used the knife to remove a large chunk of the meat from his thigh. The sight of the damage threatened to nauseate him, even as the blood flow ceased, and the telltale threads of the nanobots' spun fibers began closing the wound.
It would take some time to heal, and he was starting to run out of food, but the sun would rise in six hours, and he'd be able to increase the strength of his energy capturing rune. The Necroequicon had shown him how to make rune circles, binding the runes together like words in a sentence, allowing for much more powerful enchantments than a standalone combination rune could hope to achieve.
Placing the chunk of flesh on the floor, he poured his magic into it. Not fully understanding, moving more by instinct than knowledge, he traced a small circle of runes on the blade of the knife, and held his left hand up before his eyes. With careful precision, he stuck the blade through his wrist. It passed through the skin without damaging it, but the pain he felt brought with it distinct memories of the Ur-dragon.
Feeling like he was watching his body rather than moving it, he sawed through his wrist, then speared his hand with the weapon. When he withdrew it, he recognized the light blue glow of the orb impaled on the tip. That's a piece of my soul, he marveled, the fact that he hadn't even gasped from the pain eluding him. With a steady hand, he plunged the knife into the diamond, watching the orb be absorbed by the runes. Sticking the blade into the table, he picked up the gem, his left hand hung limp at his side, and slammed the sharp edge into the hunk of meat laying on the floor.
An eerie green glow emanated from the mess, and Seeker grabbed it in his magic, firmly holding an image of his body in his mind. He felt the magic pour out of him in a rush unlike anything he had experienced before.
The control! It was so perfect! He'd never realized before how wasteful all his attempts at magic had been. His was like using a bear hug to grab a glass, where this was like holding it gingerly between three fingers. It was exciting knowing he had so much farther to go. That there was so much more he had yet to learn.
In moments a perfect replica of himself stood before him. He felt his consciousness shift slightly, like his awareness expanding, and the other him opened its eyes. Suddenly, he was back at the helm, in full control of his body. It felt alien, after the fluid, precise movements the Necroequicon had used, his own attempts were bumbling and sluggish. His left hand was now searing with agony as his spirit essence expanded to fill the void, his left leg still numb to prevent the pain of the healing wound.
Stumbling, he sat down at the table with his books, and shut his eyes. It took him a moment, but he was able to shift his perception into the other body. It had begun stretching, levitating a curtain over to fashion some basic clothing. It seemed like a very, very simplified version of him, only having a drive to get into and out of the archives unseen. With a mental shrug, he unhitched his consciousness from it, and returned to himself.
The golem finished its preparations and departed before he returned to his studies. It shouldn't take the creature too long to return, and he could always check in on it to make sure everything was going according to plan. With an eager grin, he wolfed down the remainder of his food, and resumed studying. He had some ideas for the runes, and was determined to find out if they were possible.
Once it exited the sphere of influence the Necroequicon perpetuated to protect Secret Seeker, the golem stopped. Consciousness poured into it, filling the gaps left behind by using such a simple template and tiny fragment of a soul. New plans flooded its mind, and it turned to the Everfree Forest with a wicked grin. It needed some blood, there were runes to make. After all this time, it had the perfect vessel. Finally, it could succeed where all its creators had failed. With a light, bouncing step completely at odds with the expression it wore, the Necrogolem bounded into the woods. This was going to be fun.