The Pony, the Sphinx, and the Immortal

by HapHazred

Eight Hundred Years Ago: Survival of the Oldest

Celestia folded her hooves, listening to the droning reports of more trouble along the border with Yakyakistan. Of course there was more trouble. There was always more trouble. Over the years, Celestia had come to believe in something called the ‘trouble constant’, a level of disorder that would never change. As soon as one problem was resolved, the trouble constant would create another.

As Celestia became stronger, the trouble constant would ensure her problems became worse.

Zerephonzidas seemed to back this theory up.

“Life,” he said, “Has a way of making sure it stays interesting.”

Celestia felt occasionally unnerved by Zerephonzidas often using the words ‘interesting’, ‘dangerous’, and ‘troublesome’ interchangeably. It spoke volumes of his character.

Over the recent years, she had come to discover much of the sphinx’s personality. It turned out he could be rather charming, in a ‘I might eat you alive’ sort of way… when he wanted something.

Celestia was convinced his wisdom came at a price. She wasn’t sure how high it would be just yet. Whenever he visited the castle, he’d always visit the library. He’d even bring books Celestia had thought long lost to add to her collection.

Whatever it was he wanted, he hadn’t told Celestia what it was yet.

“The yaks are now sending fighters into our land,” the pony before Celestia said. “We’re, well, pretty worried about the whole mess.”

Celestia tapped her hoof. Not two years ago, she would have personally gone to demonstrate exactly why it was she had lived for three hundred years, but now… Celestia found she had a compelling reason to keep herself out of danger.

She still hadn’t finished her plan to reform her sister.

Zerephonzidas was right. You could do much more alive than dead. Celestia was determined to not risk herself so casually any more.

What would she do instead, then?

“Guard?” she asked. The stallion stood to attention. “Bring Zerephonzidas down from the library. I want his counsel.”

---

Celestia looked over the frozen wasteland in front of her. As her scout had indicated, there were small numbers of yaks trundling up and down the border.

On her side.

“Hmprmf,” she grunted. “At least they’re brave.”

Zerephonzidas nodded. “Yes, they are,” he said. “They will not stop being a problem if all you do is hit them harder.”

“You know this from experience?”

“Yaks are strong animals,” Zerephonzidas said. “There is very little they cannot make yield with determination.”

“Is that so?”

Zerephonzidas nodded. “They see a wall, they push through it.”

Celestia sat down. “I learned that the hard way,” she said. “I would like to resolve this diplomatically, if possible.”

Zerephonzidas raised an eyebrow. “Quite a departure from the Celestia who used to rule this country.”

“Things have changed,” Celestia said.

Zerephonzidas grinned, his teeth reflecting the morning sunlight.

“Good,” he said.

Celestia frowned. She felt she had played right into Zerephonzidas’s paws, and she didn’t know how or why. The sphinx was still a mystery.

At least he was on her side for now. Still, she never forgot the old pony wisdom: never trust a sphinx.

Celestia continued to stare at the yaks. “I think I should like to provide a wall for them to push through.”

Zerephonzidas nodded. “Simple creatures are easy to steer.” He looked over to Celestia. “What wall were you thinking of? Dragons? Ogres?”

Celestia smiled. “Yaks.”

Zerephonzidas raised his eyebrow. “Ah.” He stroked his chin. “How do you intend to make that happen.”

“I am going to do nothing at all.”

---

“Your highness,” the guard said, “The yaks are still there, and they’re not going away!”

“That is fine,” Celestia said. “They shall soon go home.”

“When?”

Zerephonzidas’s ear twiched. “I think most are already gone.”

Celestia smiled. “I suspect many of them have found they have a million better things to do.”

“The big one is coming here,” Zerephonzidas said.

“Hmm,” Celestia muttered. “He probably won’t be happy we didn’t rise to his little challenge.”

“Not in the slightest,” Zerephonzidas said.

Celestia looked over at the sphinx, then back to her guard.

“Summon the other guards,” she said. “Just in case. Zerephonzidas…”

The sphinx was gone. Celestia sighed.

“Nevermind.”

---

A yak, it was said, could grow to be three times the size of a pony and ten times as strong. They were bred to survive the cold, unforgiving climate of the north. They were tough, grim, and very, very violent.

The leader of the yak warband was not happy. Without a good fight on the horizon, his underlings had all decided the trip wasn’t worth it. What a waste.

The leader was going to make sure the pony princess knew exactly how unhappy he was at being abandoned by his warriors.

“Celestia!” he roared. A yak, it was said, could grow to be three times the size of a pony and ten times as strong. This one looked as big as a house. He could tear trees up using just his horns. He was less a yak and more a monster. His roar alone caused windows to rattle.

He heard the sound of snow crunching behind him. He grinned. Silly ponies, trying to ambush him. Yaks were born in the snow. There was no outwitting him here.

He spun around, his bulk sending a wave of snow around him like a tsunami.

“Come and get some, you…” he growled.

Then he found himself frozen in place. Aeon old instincts paralysed him, made his blood go colder than the deepest winter. Something he couldn’t control took ahold of him as he recognized the shape in front of him.

It was primeval, raw fear.

Yaks were born to survive the cold, unforgiving harshness of the north. They had defeated countless grim adversaries. They could stand toe-to-toe with ogres, and only the magical might of the ponies had kept them from advancing south. They were vicious and violent.

They were insignificant before the sphinx. They were pale imitations of the real, original apex predator.

“I remember,” Zerephonzidas said, “When I would eat your kind roasted with thyme.” He looked down on the mammoth sized yak. “It isn’t wise to make a sphinx miss how you taste…”

The yak leader unfroze himself and backed away. “What are you?” he growled. “That’s one ugly face you have…”

“Herbivores shouldn’t act like they’re dangerous,” Zerephonzidas said.

Yaks were brave. Yaks could break through the mist of fear and charge regardless. There was no wall they couldn’t push through if only they tried hard enough…

Brave was to Zerephonzidas one of stupidity’s many synonyms.

---

Celestia was still sat down in the small village hut, surrounded by guards. There was only the sound of snow being gently crushed. It was not a yak’s hoofsteps, but rather the quiet, smooth gait of the sphinx.

Many guards couldn’t help flinching as Zerephonzidas opened the door. His paws were drenched in red.

“What happened?” Celestia asked, although she already knew the answer.

“He encountered a wall he could not push through,” Zerephonzidas said. He sat down, and smiled. “As you can see,” he went on, “No matter how strong you are, there’s always something out there that will get you anyway. That’s why caution is the way of the wise. The wise survive.”

Celestia nodded. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

Zerephonzidas smiled. “Excellent. I’d hate for you to face a premature end. Truly.”

Celestia narrowed her eyes. She believed him.

So why did he want her to survive?

What did he need her for?

---

Author's Note:

And we are now around 17-18K in. Just another 7K and I'll be halfway there!