781 - Robed in Religiosity
“Where is he?”
The saurian creature in front of Lex – apparently one of the last to have exited the Confluence chamber, as it was currently in the process of pushing the altar back over the trapdoor – grunted as it finished its task. Dimwitted eyes blinked as it turned to look at him, before slowly swiveling its head back and forth. Seeing no one else around, it looked back at Lex before lifting one meaty claw to point at itself. “Where is...me?”
“The Keeper!” hissed Lex through clenched teeth. He took a step forward, claws flexing as the beast inside of him snarled. “Tell me where he is!”
Stepping back, the reptiloid thing blanched, its scales actually turning paler in Lex’s darkvision. It clenched its stone club tighter, but made no move to bring it into an attack position. Instead, it lifted its free claw, finger moving to point from its chin toward the ceiling. “Up,” it grunted, before its oversized jaw continued to flap. “But told no go there.”
Scoffing at the idea that such a prohibition applied to him, Lex turned and headed for the doorway just inside the cathedral’s entrance. To his mild surprise, a moment’s examination via his circlet found no magical protections on it, nor – when he grabbed it with his telekinesis a moment later – was it locked, swinging open without resistance. It seemed that the Keeper’s order was enough to keep his acolytes from venturing where they weren’t supposed to.
The stairs themselves were part of a narrow passage that curled upward, twisting as it followed the rounded structure of the cathedral. Lex briskly followed them, and it took only a few seconds before he arrived at another door. Like the one at the bottom of the stairwell it was lacking in magic, but this time when Lex tried the latch, he found it unmoving, apparently sealed from the inside. So much for the absolute nature of his control over his subordinates, sneered Lex mentally as he looked the obstacle over.
The door barring his path was solidly constructed. Judging from how it had rattled when he’d tried the handle, it had to be at least four inches of thick timber, with iron bindings strung across it in a Z-pattern. Nor were the hinges visible, being on the inside of whatever room lay beyond the threshold.
By all rights, Lex knew that he should simply have knocked, announcing himself and waiting to be permitted entry. Even if he couldn’t understand non-verbal cues in direct conversation, the rules of etiquette were quite clear on that point. Barging into someone else’s territory was at best extremely rude, and at worst – as Panuk and his scouting party of adlets had demonstrated – could be treated as a declaration of hostility, inviting an equally hostile response.
But this wasn’t the Keeper’s territory; it was the Night Mare’s.
And after having gone through so much hardship and sacrifice in his pursuit of the power that the goddess had dangled in front of him when she’d brought him back to Everglow – accepting that Solvei was bound to him forever, forsaking his hopes of ever truly understanding others, and even giving up part of his equinity – to say nothing of all the work he’d put into bringing her religion to Equestria, Lex refused to countenance the idea that she held some crazed undead wreck of a pony in higher regard than himself.
Which meant that, like Solvei and the Charismata, the Shrine of the Starless Sky and everything in it was his to do with as he pleased.
And if the Keeper objects to that, decided Lex as he slowly rose onto his hind legs, curling one claw into a fist and cocking it back, then let him appeal to the Night Mare herself!
Then he lashed out with all of the strength his new body could muster.
And the door went flying off its hinges.
Landing with a tremendous crash, Lex strode after it, surveying the next room.
His first impression was that he’d come to a storeroom. A shelf across from him held several small knives, each of them having hilts carved to resemble monsters from whose mouths the blades emerged. Above them were what might have been a flail, save that its head was perforated with small holes, opposite of which was a latch with a small hinge, as though it were designed to be filled with a liquid which the holes would then have allowed to trickle out. On a lower rack lay several folded squares of cloth of varying sizes.
Far more notable was what the far side of the room held. Wooden stands had been constructed in loose approximations of ponies, and draped over them were various garments. But unlike the myriad of clothes which had been among the supplies he’d taken from Solvei’s mother, these were of a far more ornate nature.
One of the wooden stands was adorned with a robe of velvet, embroidered with a pattern of brambles across the fabric, the design ending only at the trim, which was made of some sort of fur. Another was a massive suit of armor, forged to look like a massive snarling creature; its helm was a horned visage, with the open jaws making room for the wearer’s face, and the graves ended in stylized claws, while metal plates with razor-sharp edges lined its sides. A third outfit was a skintight suit of overlapping scales of some kind, and despite there being no light in the chamber, its surface seemed oddly glossy.
Set apart from them, however, was a raiment unlike the others.
Where the rest of the clothes were draped over simple wooden stands, this one had been carefully hung from a rack within a freestanding wardrobe. That the furniture had been constructed specifically to hold the single article of apparel was immediately obvious, as its width and depth were only barely greater than the outfit they contained. Moreover, the entire thing was lacquered, with silver filigree designed in yet another thorn motif, and the double doors at its front – currently open – were set with handles of carved onyx, with the same material was used to make rack from which the ensemble hung.
The clothes themselves might have been mistaken for a suit of armor fashioned in the image of a skeleton, but a few moments of examination were all that it took to correct that impression. Made of metal which had been dyed black, the narrow strips of material had been designed to be pressed against the wearer’s bones, providing almost no cover to the more vulnerable areas of the body. The entire thing was held together by a series of clasps, further denoting that the ensemble was unsuited for combat.
But that point was driven home by the final detail of the clothing, which was how the interior of each piece was lined with sharp, jagged hooks.
Short enough to dig into the skin without catching on muscle or bone, each hook was patterned opposite from those around it, ensuring that no matter how the wearer moved they would be pierced by them. The mere act of trying to walk in such a thing, Lex knew, would have been intensely painful. And yet none of the clasps had locks or any other means of being forcibly affixed, making it clear that this wasn’t some sort of torture implement; anyone clad in the outfit would have been able to remove it easily, albeit not without injury themselves at least a little.
“Magnificent, is it not?”
The Keeper’s voice caused Lex to glance over his shoulder, irritated with himself for having gotten caught up in the room’s contents. From the corner of the room opposite the door he’d broken down, he could already see the outer edge of the Keeper’s sphere of darkness floating toward him, and like before it took Lex only a thought – and no strain at all – to augment his vision enough to see through it, noticing the open doorway through which the pony skull had floated.
He also caught sight of the other thing which he’d overlooked in his examination of the room’s contents: a single bookstand, atop which lay a large open tome.
But there was no time for him to examine the writing within as the Keeper moved to hover across from him, turning to regard the hook-lined attire. “Behold the liturgical vestments of those who praise Our Dark Mistress, neart a’staigh,” he pronounced, and Lex recognized that last part as Siolbhan – the Sylvan language which was the second-most common tongue among this world’s ponies – for “inner strength.”
“Only those who have fully committed themselves to the goddess were granted the privilege of wearing this garment,” continued the Keeper, his tone reverent. “Even then, it was only to be employed during the sacred ceremonies and holy rituals. One so garbed demonstrated his faith by performing their duties even as their flesh was rent, their voices unflinching and their motions unwavering as they carried out the service. The blood they spilled was an offering, demonstrating their triumph over pain, their mastery over themselves, and their dedication to the Night Mare.”
“And yet no one wore them when you performed the Rite of Sublimation,” noted Lex caustically.
The Keeper gave a hollow laugh. “None of my acolytes have attained sufficient faith to have earned such an honor, and since you can see me as I truly am, you know that I am sadly unable to wear those vestments.”
“Sadly?” sneered Lex. “Or conveniently? Because I doubt the Night Mare would care for her name to be further profaned by you using her religion’s ceremonial clothes for a fake ritual.”
“You, of all ponies, speak of blasphemy?” Inside the sphere of darkness, the Keeper turned to regard Lex directly. “Since coming here, the offenses you have committed against She Who Rules the Night have been many, even without counting the infractions performed by those heretics you brought here. Even now, you tread on the border of desecrating this holy place,” it added with a glance toward the toppled door.
“If the Night Mare has a problem with my actions, she’s free to inform me at any time,” spat Lex, raising his foreleg, the barbed wire around which was still and unmoving. “Your misconduct, however, will be answered for here and now! Starting with the truth about how the Rite of Sublimation isn’t real!”
Lex had half-expected the Keeper to be intimidated by the accusation, much like how it had retreated from him upon his emerging from the Confluence. But rather than back off, the Keeper floated closer to him even as it hovered higher overhead, as though trying to tower over him. “Even if you bear the mark of the goddess’s favor, to impugn the holy ritual is unforgivable! As the one who presented you with the opportunity to improve yourself in Her Dark Majesty’s eyes, your ungratefulness-”
“You presented me with nothing!” boomed Lex, tail thrashing in anger as his eyes lit up. “The Confluence acts as a doorway to Darkest Night all on its own! Your so-called rite was nothing but gibberish, just like your history!”
“You dare-”
But Lex had no intention of letting the creature speak freely. “You’re no bastard son of an ancient king! All you were was a bandit! You stole an object of greater power than your small mind could handle, and it broke you, so you fled here, and have been rotting away in this place ever since!”
“SACRILEGE!” howled the Keeper. “Long have I tolerated your impiety, Lex Legis, certain that the Night Mare would censure you for it! But now I see the truth! She brought you here because she wishes me to carry out this task on Her behalf! And so I shall!”
Lex tensed at that, knowing that the Night Mare’s edict only kept her worshipers from killing each other inside the Shrine. Anything else the Keeper tried, so long as it wasn’t lethal, was fair game.
But to his surprise, the floating skull instead moved away from him, returning to the open book near the opposite door. “If you cannot learn to appreciate the munificence which the goddess has shown in bringing you here, then you can beg Her to forgive you for your trespasses against this Shrine and its Keeper! The anathema that I shall call down against you-”
Lex didn’t give him a chance to finish, laughing darkly as he strode forward and plucked the Keeper from the air. He didn’t bother using his telekinesis, simply reaching a claw out to grab the thing, talons sinking through empty eye sockets as he pulled it away from the book. “By all means,” he snickered, “ask the Night Mare to strike me down. I’m eager to see the judgment she’ll deliver when entreated by a weakling who can’t confront an enemy on their own!”
The skull rattled in his grasp, trying to free itself. “HERESY!”
“Says a creature who’s been rotting away even as it claims to be in service to a goddess of strength and power!” roared Lex. “You claim that I’ve defiled this place?! The ponies I’ve brought here have used it as a refuge for a few days, you’ve hidden yourself away here for centuries, avoiding your own past!”
Hissing, he brought his face closer to the undead thing’s bony visage. “I learned a lot about myself while I was in Darkest Night, while you’ve enjoyed the luxury of forgetting who you are. But no longer! Now tell me where the magic item you brought here is hidden!”
The skull’s struggles became more pronounced then, rattling in his grip so hard it was almost vibrating. “LIES! ALL LIES!”
“TELL ME!” bellowed Lex. “TELL ME OR I SWEAR I’LL THROW YOU INTO THE CONFLUENCE MYSELF, AND YOU CAN EXPLAIN YOUR FAILURES TO THE NIGHT MARE IN PERSON!!!”
The Keeper let out a keening wail then, and the sound was painful to Lex’s ears. But he didn’t let up, clenching his claws harder. He felt bone start to splinter in his grasp, and the barbed wire around his foreleg suddenly moved, drawing blood. But he didn’t let up, his eyes glowing brighter in the Keeper’s sphere of darkness as he gripped the skull tighter. “TELL ME WHERE IT’S HIDDEN!”
A warbling tone entered the Keeper’s pained scream then, as though whatever supernatural process gave it a voice was coming undone. But the undulations weren’t enough to disguise the words that it uttered then.
“Bbbeeeyyyooonnnddd rrreeeaaaccchhh!!!” moaned the skull. “Iiittt iiisss bbbeeeyyyooonnnddd rrreeeaaaccchhh!!!”
Snarling Lex, squeezed harder, but the move prompted the barbed wire to clench suddenly, and Lex’s digits spasmed slightly as unfamiliar muscles twitched in response. That was all the opening the Keeper needed, pulling free and fleeing back the way it had come, its frightful moan trailing after it.
Lex could have pursued, but he didn’t bother, instead fighting the urge to slump in place. He’d known that it was unlikely that whatever it was that the Keeper had brought here would be able to help Thermal Draft; anything that would drive someone mad was unlikely to have any sort of healing function. But at least it would have been something to investigate, some fallback if the powers granted by his new body proved insufficient.
But if the unidentified item wasn’t something which could be retrieved or recovered, then this entire confrontation had been pointless.
No, Lex corrected himself silently, looking around the chamber. There might still be something worthwhile here.
As painful as his return to Everglow had been, Lex couldn’t deny that the Night Mare had made good on her word about this being a chance to grow stronger. In the short time that he’d come here, his strength had grown by leaps and bounds. He could utilize the Charismata for far more than he’d originally known. He had a powerful new soul-bound servant. He’d mastered his tulpa, unlocking new powers in the process. And he had a new body whose full strength he hadn’t yet measured.
And he’d finally gotten rid of the childish dreams that had been holding him back. As much as it hurt, knowing that he’d never have what he wanted the most, Lex knew he was better off for it. The same was true for knowing that the relationships he’d been in hadn’t been real; that truth was painful, but it had reminded him of where his real responsibilities lay: to Equestria, and all of its ponies.
“Be grateful to me,” the Night Mare said when she’d brought him here.
At the time he hadn’t been.
But he was now.
Though he knew he needed to rest, needed to let himself recover so that he could try alternative methods of saving the dying doppelganger downstairs, Lex instead turned and walked to the far side of the chamber, where the book the Keeper had been consulting still lay open on its stand.
Then he began to read.
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Hey everypony! In anticipation of needing some time to recover from some minor outpatient surgery that I'm having tomorrow, I've changed this story's tag to "on hiatus." While I hate to break my usual one-chapter-every-three-days schedule, everything I've read says that I'll be in no shape to continue writing, at least for a little bit.
The good news is that I should be back to normal relatively quickly; within a month seems like a very doable timeframe, and hopefully it'll be more like just a week or two before I'm continuing to release new chapters of Lex's adventures.
In the meantime, I want to thank everyone who's read this story and stuck with it all this time. I remain incredibly grateful to all of you for wanting to see where this epic saga goes, and I'm excited to see what happens next alongside all of you!
11438441
you take all of the time you need your health is way more important then a story.
Lex nearly went bowling, but the night Mare called him on the Strike?
11438441
Take as much time as you need to recover, finding the hiatus tag made panic for a second then I realized that I actually trust you far more than people in my life to have a reason -I have the same social skills that Lex have... which is pretty sad overall but it also made Lex far more relatable to me than any other character I ever read- so I stopped panicking, read the chapter and then confirmed that I was right. You have a good reason. So heal up and take no shortcut I will be waiting to read more for as long as you will be wanting to write this. I have an exam this month that I need to prepare for anyways.
And looks like Lex will finally read the Nightmare holy book, hurray for that. I am sure that he will feel dumb that he didn't do that earlier.
PS: I hope that you aren't in America tho... the medical bills are insane there or so I heard / saw.
PSS: my family wish you good health too.
11438441
One's own wellbeing should always take priority over other matters so take all the time you need to recover properly. We'll be here waiting for news of your recovery and return to telling us Lex's story.
Speaking of which, seems Lex will be learning more of the Night Mare instead of the bullet points he's been condensing them into though for all we know, the book could very well be full of nothing but rambling gibberish that only the Keeper's shattered mind could comprehend. Or it is gibberish that's actually a long dead language that only Lex and perhaps a certain member of Fail Forward could understand.
11438981 Better than saying that, with him and the Keeper there, she has a champion and a spare.
11438645 Thanks! Fortunately, I'm recovering fairly well, so things seem on track to start back up before the end of the month.
11439345 Thanks so much for the well-wishes from you and your family!
My recovery has been fairly quick, or so I'm told, but at this point it's a matter of getting my usual level of energy back. I'm not sure I fully appreciated just how much it was taking for me to turn out chapters on a regular basis, and everyone is telling me that the thing to watch out for now is trying to resume my usual activity level too soon and causing a relapse. It's a bit frustrating, since I'm overflowing with ideas that I want to write down, but so far my experience has shown the advice I've received to be true; any sustained effort tires me out significantly, so for the moment I need to keep resting.
That said, I'm still hopeful that I'll be back to my usual schedule before the end of the month. I really want to get to the next stage of Lex's adventure!
11439592 Hopefully Lex won't have any trouble reading the tome that he's found; we know he speaks several languages, being able to pick them up easily, so with any luck that won't be a problem now.
As for my health, I'm forcing myself to take it slow. I keep having periods of time where I feel almost back to normal, but so far they're not sustaining themselves, especially if I start undertaking anything strenuous or requiring dedicated focus. But then again, as people keep reminding me, I'm less than a week out from surgery, and I need to temper my expectations. It's not my strong suit, to say the least.