Penn and Stone: Dynamic Duo

by Pennington Inkwell

The Doom That Came To Mozun Akai

The village of Mozun Akai was all that remained of a once-mighty nation, one that had stretched from the coasts of the Borealis Ocean to the lush Moors of Myth. Nestled between rolling hills and mountains on the farthest-eastward edge of the Tigerous Rain Forest, it was as if the land itself had risen up to protect its people against the cataclysm that had ravaged their lands. Their culture was lush, made fat by their status as the keystone of trade, and their ponies grew strong and bright under the loving watch of their gods. Of what they called "Noc Lo Qunn" or "Night of Death," archaeologists were able to discover little. By all that had been recovered on expedition after expedition, it seemed as if nothing could have destroyed them with such ferocity or swiftness, like wind passing through a cobweb. The last sign of their former grandeur was a massive ziggurat that towered in the center of the city, ornate and terrible as it blotted out the sun till midday and the moon until it reached its apex, forcing those who lay in its shadow to forever live without light for half their lives.

It was to discern truth from legend that Pennington Inkwell and Full Sails made their way across the Plains of Lore and into the forest beyond. It was only a matter of time until they reached the village: the first outsiders to have set hoof in the village since the cataclysm. They were welcomed warmly, their trespassing having been permitted by letter in the preceding months by the High Priest and Princess Celestia. The two ponies, unicorn and pegasus, were placed in the home of one half-zebra mare named Arinth. By day, they explored the lost culture, delving deep into its people and its lore, soaking in history and myth and culture all at once. By night, the two shared their findings with one another, the thoughts of their minds and the peculiar emotions elicited by the massive temple in their hearts mimicking one another as kindred spirits do. Emotions of fear and wonder and awe, all crowned by an overwhelming curiosity, raged within them, for the great palace of the gods was open on every side, revealing dark halls and passages leading inside that they had been forbidden to enter. As was the custom of two stallions finally out from beneath the oppression of their elders, their nights were long, rebelling against sleep so that they might use the nights to their greatest potential.

The village was centered about that great ziggurat, with paths and streets moving outwards in concentric circles. Houses and all manner of buildings faced inwards, keeping a constant vigil against some threat from within, rather than remaining wary of the dangers of the outside world. Pennington would happily flight from place to place in the village, gathering up all of the knowledge he could of the Pantheon of Mozun and their gods and goddesses, while Full Sails would examine the time-honored traditions and rituals of the natives, a rare window back through time. It was often, though, that both would cast a longing glance at the open gateways into the temple, and inquire from their guide why none would enter. They never received any answer but "Son lo qunn!" or "It is death!" whispered in hushed tones. This, however, only served to light a fire in the young and foolish adventurers' hearts, which ached and yearned for the unknown forces that lay behind the darkness.

It was not until the final night, when they planned to depart the city the next day, that the two's hushed whispers moved finally towards the breaking of their singular rule. Swinging down from his top bunk, Full Sails spoke in hushed tones, trying to pass the message to the other without reaching the ears of their hostess.

"Come on, Penny! This is our last chance to see what's in there!" he pleaded.

Pennington's eyes remained shut, though his ears gave a twitch of annoyance.

"Don't call me Penny... And if anyone found out, it would set back relations by years, perhaps even permanently!" he replied, turning over onto his side and putting his back to his comrade.

"But think about it! If we could figure out what's in there, it could be exactly what we've been looking for!" Dropping down, Full Sails grasped Pennington by the shoulders, turning Pennington back to face him. "The ponies here are so superstitious, I doubt they've touched that place in centuries!"

Pennington's eyes narrowed angrily as he was forced to stare at Sails.

"Come on... it'll be an adventure..." Full Sails hummed.

Pennington groaned and rolled over again, forcing his way out of Sails' hooves.

"And if we find something in there, can you imagine how PROUD Miss Yearling's going to be?" he continued, his voice dripping with honeyed temptation.

"Can you imagine how hard she'll pound the two of us if she finds out we broke our ONE RULE?" Pennington sighed again.

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Well, I'M going! More glory for me, then!" Sails shrugged as he hopped out the window, quickly swallowed up by the darkness of the night.

A moment passed. Thirty seconds. A minute. With every beat of his heart, Pennington heard the drumming in his brain, a familiar itch began scratching at his skull, screaming and whimpering to be sated.

Adventure... Adventure... Adventure... It echoed in his brain like wind whistling down ancient stone hallways. He tried to will it away, but it stayed, refusing to leave him.

"He's going to get himself killed out there..." he muttered, taking to his hooves and springing out the window. He already knew that he would regret his actions, though to what magnitude he could not comprehend.

As they descended into the darkness, both ponies found themselves blind. It wasn't the cold, empty darkness that had greeted them every night of their lives, however. Stepping into the blackened maw of the tunnel, they were assaulted, smothered, and engulfed completely, falling in and being swallowed up in an instant. It stifled every sense, caught in their throats in protest of being swallowed up into their lungs, and slowed their movements in a thick, syrupy fog. The two continued in spite, training their remaining senses against the possible traps.

Full Sails felt his hoof sink slightly into the floor, followed by a soft click and whirr of centuries-old mechanisms finally sliding into place. Instinct and practice, however, moved into place even faster. As the blades swung out, Sails was already in the air, feeling only a small breeze below him. Coming to a landing, he dug his front hooves into the ground, feeling a second breeze pass in front of his face. Unable to stop, he instead tilted forward, arcing his back up and over into a front flip. He could hear the insect-like buzzing of barbed projectiles hum underneath him. As his head passed upwards and flung himself forward, there was a roar and a flash of heat on his back as a surge of flames came up from the floor behind him. In the sudden light, he saw the path ahead, filled with even, wide holes. Knowing what lay ahead, he sprung upwards, planting his hooves firmly against the wall. Even as the spikes began to shoot up from the floor in unknown and unseen patterns, Sails was safe, springing from wall to wall above them. Finally, as the flames shot outwards again, he could see that he had passed beyond the spikes again. With a final roll to confirm himself beyond the traps, Full Sails jumped back up onto his hooves, alert to any remaining danger. Fortunately, he seemed to have passed the trap. There was a soft clatter of hooves as Pennington landed next to him.

"Good to see you made it!" Sails whispered.

"Come on, something as simple as that? Yearling would kill me!" Pennington replied. Each knew well the stupid grin that was unavoidably plastered across the other's face.

"Yeah, but that last bit couldn't have been easy without wings..."

"A little magic may have made for some easy hoofholds."

There was a soft chuckle between the two of them before silence fell again. There were more traps and danger to spare, but the talents of the two exceeded those of the original builders, and it was a matter of a few hours before they could tell that they had come close to the center. Their hearts were pounding in their chests, but not at the pace they expected. They could feel their blood pulsing through their heads, but it didn't match the beating at their cores. It was slow, rhythmic, and methodical, radiating out from the core of the temple in waves. As they drew closer and closer to the end of the final hall, light began to glow outwards, gradually lighting the way until the two of them could see one another with their own eyes once more. After so long in the dark, the familiar faces were almost alien to them. Finally, as they moved forward, they found themselves standing at the threshold of the final chamber. Both ponies' jaws hung loose and eyes widened with wonder at the sight within.

At the heart of the temple lay a massive cavern, seemingly almost bigger than the pyramid, itself, lit by some unseen ambient power. Every inch of the walls was covered in massive, colorful frescoes, all of the way up to the ceiling. However, the most astounding and mind-boggling trait lay in the center.

Two massive beams, one horizontal, one vertical, both unlike any kind of magic they had ever seen. Rather than magic, it seemed more as if the entirety of space and time had been torn open and warped to hold it in place. The entire night sky, nebulae of all colors, the wonders of the universe all were contained within, all swirling about. In the center where the two crossed was a mask. A horrifying mask. It wasn't the face of a pony, it was wider, full of bloodstained, sharpened teeth. The jaw was jointed in four different places, making the smile wider and infinitely more menacing. Pennington was immediately drawn towards the mask as Sails quickly began moving around the auditorium, examining the walls.

"Penn! Look at this! It's amazing, a record of these people's culture! Look at this! This creature... it has the same face as that mask!" Sails waved Pennington over to the wall, indicating the painting he was standing in front of, depicting a massive, snake-like creature battling with what was easily recognizable as the Mozunian Pantheon. Most unsettling was that the massive monster wore the same mask from the center of the room. Strange creatures unlike anything either of them had ever seen, all grappling with a great serpent of bones and blood, tearing them apart with its fangs one after the other. The progression of the mural around the wall showed one member of the Pantheon after the other, the serpent tearing each of them apart in paints of a striking red hue, somehow retaining its vibrancy after the many long centuries. As he continued to examine the frescoes, Full Sails came to the final showdown between the monster and a gigantic figure he recognized as Mozun, himself. The High God over all others in the pantheon, he seemed to be the most successful in fighting back. But in a bloody, gruesome image, the beast overcame him, plunging into his chest and tearing out his heart. The final image was of the great god crossing his arms over his chest, seemingly sealing the demon inside.

"Penn, are you seeing all this? Can you believe it?" Sails looked over to Pennington, who was still staring at the mask. With a grin, the walked over to his friend, poking an elbow into his side. "So, are you happy you came around to my side of things?" he whispered smugly.

Pennington nodded, pointing up at the mask. His eyes had not left the captivating item since he had entered the great auditorium.

"What kind of strange magic is that holding it in place? I've never seen anything like it!" Pennington whispered, his voice weakened by awe. The longer Sails stared into the great columns of void, the more stars and galaxies and great nebulae he could see inside, all impossible to recognize. Out of the corner of his vision, he could see Pennington's hoof rising up towards the mask. Panic for his partner raced through his chest like lightning, and Sails knocked it away with his wing, stopping Pennington from making contact with the mysterious item.

Pennington recoiled violently, turning in anger to the pegasus who was his friend.

"What was that for?" he hissed angrily, an unfamiliar rage flaring up in his voice. "I only wanted to touch it!"

Sails could hardly believe what he was hearing. Pennington had always been the more wary of strange magics and the more cautious of rumored curses, and now he was recklessly plunging forward into this cosmic spell with his hoof, trying to reach inside. Just as he was about to reprimand his friend of the possible danger, however, a low vibration rolled out through the room, causing his entire body to shiver and recoil inwards, churning his stomach like a great blow to his belly. Turning his head towards the source, he found himself staring into the gaping eye holes of the mask, now with two burning red embers glowing from some unknown flame within. As he opened his mouth to speak, a second great rumbling washed over him, seemingly twisting and convulsing his innards again, warping his words into a groan of agony, causing him to collapse to the cold stone floor.

Except that it wasn't cold. The floor was warm. And wet. When he could bear to open his eyes again, Sails found the room transformed. Rather than the center of a great stone ziggurat, he was trapped within the pulsing, bloody walls of some great living creature's body. Strips of tattered flesh hung from the walls as crimson lifeblood oozed downwards, showing that the hollow chamber was not natural, but torn open by some impossibly great and terrible force. Still unable to will his legs away from the rest of his prone body, Sails watched in horror as Pennington, seemingly unaffected by the great power exerting its dominance over them, stepped forwards once again, reaching up towards the mask. Sails' weak protests went unheard, but not unpunished as another wave of pain racked over him. He could only watch helplessly as Pennington reached up and finally touched the great monstrosity.

There was a blinding flash of red light, one that was unhindered by Sails eyelids, screwed shut in a futile attempt to avoid it, and a deafening screech, like metal scraping across gravel whilst a chorus of unknowable creatures screamed in agony. When the light faded, it was several minutes before Sails could see again, the blindness brought on by the horrible light fading alongside the pain keeping him prone. Those minutes seemed to stretch into hours and even years, punctuated only once in a millennium by Sails calling out for his comrade, his voice weak and hoarse. He received no reply. When he was finally able to see again, Sails found himself alone, both Pennington and the mask gone. The great tears in the cosmos were gone, as well, sealed shut now that they had failed in their great purpose.

As soon as he was able, Sails sprinted back through the halls to the outside, only narrowly avoiding the traps in his panic. His heart pounded in his chest, the sound of his own blood rushing through his ears as he prayed his heart would not manage to break free from its own place in his torso. When he finally caught sight of the lighted doorway to the outside, Sails could already see mangled corpses scattered across the ground, and could hear the voices of the remaining ponies screaming in terror, though the sound was quickly growing softer and losing individual voices.

When he finally reached the outside, all was silent. Silent as the grave. Sails saw only one standing pony, his face buried in the torn-open neck of another pony, the light of life already long-gone from the poor victim's eyes. Slowly and without moving suddenly, Sails reached onto his back, freeing the small dagger he kept nestled between his wings. It wasn't much, he hadn't come prepared for a battle, but it was all that he had.

Slowly, the pony that he had once known as Pennington Inkwell lifted his head, revealing a blood-soaked face that was not his own. The mask- that horrible mask- had warped itself into the shaped of a pony's skull and latched itself onto Pennington's head, tendrils of pale ceramic wrapping around all the way to the base of his skull, constricting tightly. His head turned to face Sails, giving him full view of the ghastly, fanged monstrosity. The entity looked at first like it was about to attack, then seemed to relax as it warped into a ghastly grin. Slowly, it walked towards Sails, stretching Pennington's neck and occasionally stopping to stretch other parts of the body it had taken, like the legs or even stopping once to arch its back, resulting in a series of pops and cracks that made Sails cringe.

"Ooooh, it feels so GOOD to be OUT of there!"

The monster may have had Pennington's body, but it didn't have his voice. Its words sounded like the last cries of somepony drowning in gravel, but calm.

"Who- who are you?" Sails stuttered, tightening his grip on the dagger. "What have you done to Pennington?"

"Pennington? Oh, you mean this sack of meat and bone I'm using... His smile somehow grew wider as the glowing embers in the dead eyes grew brighter. "'Pennington' is long gone. This body is MINE now! And I... AM CHA'QUED! His calm demeanor escalated to a roar as he leaped at Sails, who only had barely enough time to lift up the dagger in defense, jamming it directly between the mask's eyes to hold it back as it gnashed furiously at his throat, scraping off fur and skin as its teeth extended outwards, desperately trying to tear him apart. It took every ounce of strength in Sails' body to hold him at bay, pressing forward into the dagger with one hoof and holding tightly to Pennington's horn with the other, pushing backwards against him.

Crack!

There was a moment of silence. Cha'Qued ceased his attack and Sails stared in disbelief. At the point of his trusty dagger, the mask had cracked.

"AAARGH!" Cha'Qued leaped backwards, off of Sails and back into the village square. Lifting up his hoof to inspect the damage, Cha'Qued's smile vanished into a deep and frustrated scowl as he felt a large vertical crack beginning to split the mask open. Several profanities hissed out through his teeth before he turned his wrathful gaze onto Sails again.

"One final 'gift' from that accursed Mozun... Even while dead, he continues to weaken my power!" He lowered his head, pointing his horn directly at Sails. No matter. When I have left this gods-forsaken place, it shall return in full! I need only FEAST! Punctuating his words, a beam of red light blasted outwards from his horn. Sails rolled out of the way just in time to watch the stone wall behind him dissolve away into nothing but a fine mist.

Okay, fighting magic, remember what Yearling taught you! Sails' mind raced, returning to everything that he had seen of this new enemy. Move quickly, oscillate your speed to stay- He drew up short as another burst of red light passed inches in front of his face. -unpredictable. Then... Sails watched Cha'Qued closely as he charged his next attack. Putting on a burst of speed, Sails took to the air as the spell struck just behind him, melting several inches off of his tail. STRIKE!

Pushing as quickly as his wings would carry him, he tossed the dagger to himself, landing the blade in his hoof before taking grip and throwing it with all his might.

Pennington Inkwell had always called him a fool for using throwing knives, claiming that the sword was a better weapon, and that Sails was prone to come up short on ammunition when the time was right (which had proven itself true on many an occasion). However, today, Full Sails would not have traded all of those hours of practice for anything in the world. The knife struck its mark perfectly, stabbing directly into the crevice it had made before. Though the difference in depth was only a few millimeters, the fissure's length spread almost all of the way along the center of the mask, and the knife remained embedded within, even as Cha'Qued screamed in agony. Before his hoof could reach up to remove the offending blade, Full Sails was already upon him, slamming into him with all the force he could muster from his aching body and plunging his hoof into the butt of the blade, driving it even further into the mask and beginning to force the two halves apart as it fell to the left, working the blade in and under the broken ceramic, prying the mask away from Pennington's face.

The impact sent both ponies tumbling across the ground for a great distance, ending with Sails on top of Cha'Qued, pinning him down. Breathing heavily, Sails reached down and took hold of the knife in his teeth, pulling upwards on it with all his might to pry off the left half of the mask.

"Get... OFF... MY... FRIEND!" He shouted through his locked jaw as Cha'Qued's screams rose higher and higher in pitch. In his writhing, one of Cha'Qued's hind legs broke free. Before Sails could pin it back down again, the hoof was already planted firmly on his stomach, and one impossibly strong kick sent him flying uncontrollably through the air and over the trees, straight out of the village. With that blow, Sails knew that the battle was over. He could feel almost half of his ribs snapped and one lung quickly collapsing. Reaching the apex of his arc, he could barely breathe from the blow to his diaphragm and he knew that there was likely internal bleeding due to the trauma.

It was over. There was nothing more he could do.

The world turned beneath him as Sails plummeted downwards, and he waited for the inevitable landing that would mark his final resting place.

With a skull-rocking impact, Sails found himself not impaled on a tree branch or sitting in the center of a small crater in the ground, but rather immersed in ice-cold water. He had landed in one of the forest's many rivers. Trying to ignore the agony, he struggled lightly, bringing himself to the surface just long enough to take enough of a breath to keep him buoyant. Beginning to ride slowly down the current, Sails was shocked at the sudden silence.

There was nothing wrong this deep in the jungle. No great god-killers on the loose, no bloody remains of a panicked village, only the chirping of the birds and the sound of rushing water. It almost made the past few minutes seem impossible, like some kind of bad dream.

"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH! GOT YOU!" Cha'Qued's voice roared as he came leaping out of a nearby bush, murder in his eyes. Full Sails could do nothing to stop the attack, he couldn't even move. The cruel mistress of time seemed to move into slow motion as he watched Cha'Qued fly through the air at him, pouncing like a great tiger. But as he grew closer, Sails could see his trusty knife embedded within, still working the mask away from Pennington's face.

And then, a miracle. With one final crack like a cannon firing, the mask split completely, shattering into pieces in mid-air. The face underneath was one of shock, though Sails wasn't certain to whom it belonged.

Out of control, Pennington's body flew over Sails, plunging into the icy water and never surfacing. Sails waited for as long as he could, fending off the darkness at the edge of his vision, pleading and begging whatever gods existed that Pennington would come back up. Unfortunately, his wounds overtook him before he saw his wish fulfilled, and he plunged into unconsciousness, floating slowly down the river towards the ocean.

Author's Note:

Sorry for the wait, everyone! I wish I could say I had a better excuse than "life," but 2015 has been nothing but one insane roller coaster! Hopefully, this marks the beginning of the return of regular updates!

Happy Adventuring!

-Pennington Inkwell

P.S. A big "Thank You!" to my new editor, PC!

Comments

[Sirnicklaser111]

I'm first ha

[AltGrendel]

Glad you're back.

It was worth the wait.