The Mystery of the Cipactli Glyph

by Kwakerjak

Chapter 5

The stomach was getting empty again, and this was very bad. Remembering was hard enough when the stomach was full, but when it was empty, the emptiness overruled everything. It had to be full—not just because full felt better than empty, but because full would let him think and remember, and he had to remember, even if he had forgotten why remembering was important.

Hungry… hungry… hungry… no! Calm! Breathe… think…

He was still trapped by the ponies. That seemed like the right word, but he wasn’t sure. Words seemed to be much more difficult than they used to be for some reason. The ponies wanted him to use words. Sometimes after giving him food to fill the stomach, two of them stayed behind: a green one and a big white one. At first, he’d considered trying to eat them to fill the stomach a little more, but then he remembered that the big white one was dangerous.

At first, the noises they made hadn’t made any sense, until suddenly they did. He tried to make noises of his own, but they didn’t come out right. It was frustrating, and frustration made him angry, and anger made the stomach empty, and then he was hungry… hungry… stop it! Thinking about hunger made everything blur and nothing made sense except eating, eating, eating…

The door squeaked. He looked up. Something was there. He saw that it was moving, which meant it might be food, and he didn’t need to think any more. The mouth opened, the body lunged forward, and the teeth snapped down in an effort to trap the meal, but the only noise was a loud clack as the jaws slapped together.

Then, light filled the room and he was flung against the wall. Squinting, he saw the big white pony again. He let out a growl of protest, but the big white pony had proven its superiority many times over by now, and at the moment, he didn’t feel like trying his luck again.

The big white pony opened its mouth and made some familiar-sounding noises, but he was too hungry to understand them—except for one near the end: “Food.”

Minutes later, a large bowl appeared before him, filled to the brim with some sort of meat. Without pausing, he gorged himself on the contents, barely noticing the faint odor of fish that entered the nostrils as the meal slid down the gullet.

When he’d finished, he looked up again at the big white pony. “Hello again,” she said. “Do you understand me better now that you’ve eaten?”

That was most certainly true, so he nodded the head. He opened the mouth to try to respond, but the big white pony stopped him.

“We’re going to try a different approach this time,” she said. “For now, don’t worry about talking. Just nod your head for ‘yes,’ and shake it for ‘no.’ Do you understand?”

He nodded.

“Excellent,” said the big white pony. “We’ll be working with somepony new this time.”

That’s when he saw the light brown pony. It was about the same size as the green pony from last time, but this one had wings like the big white pony. It also looked very, very familiar.

“Uh, hey, Curiosity. It’s me. Do you remember?”

Curiosity? That... that’s me! Curiosity blinked several times as his memories came back. And that’s A.K.! For the first time in a long time, Curiosity felt something other than hunger, rage, or frustration: happiness. Instinctively, he tried return the greeting, but all that came out of his mouth was another incoherent roar.

“Try not to speak,” said Celestia—who Curiosity only just now recognized as Princess Celestia, to his chagrin. “You seem to be very susceptible to frustration, and right now the last thing we want is for you to regress into a feral state again.”

Curiosity nodded, though he didn’t much like not being able to ask questions.

“I guessing you want to know what’s going on,” A.K. said, apparently picking up her friend’s mood.

Another nod.

“Well, you’ve been turned into an ancient reptilian monster, but I gather you figured that part out for yourself. Princess Celestia and I are trying to figure out who did it, how they did it, and why. Do you remember what happened?”

Curiosity shook his head.

“Knocked out, huh? Well, did you see who did it?”

Curiosity wracked his mind for a few moments before dejectedly shaking his head again.

“Okay,” A.K. said, “how about this: would you be able to lead us to them if we let you out? Or if not to them, to someone who knows them?”

Curiosity shook his head yet again.

“Hmm...” Celestia said as she mulled over an idea. “Curiosity, can you think of anything that might help us if you were able to express it properly.”

Curiosity looked a bit dejected at first, but soon, his face brightened up and he nodded enthusiastically.

“Can you write it down for us?”

The pony-turned-reptile was practically jumping as he continued to nod; apparently, the thought of trying to write hadn’t occurred to him before now.

The princess sent for a pen and paper, but soon, a new obstacle became apparent: holding the pen was nearly impossible. The cipactli’s claws weren’t like pony hooves; to merely pick up the pen Curiosity had to wrap digits around the slim writing utensil, and his attempts at writing were completely illegible. The obvious alternative of holding the pen in his mouth failed as well: Curiosity was clearly not used to the immense power of the jaws, and pen after pen snapped between the razor-sharp teeth, coating the tongue and the chin in black ink and ratcheting up the cipactli’s frustration exponentially. By the time A.K. and Celestia realized what was happening, it was too late: the civilized pony mind had once again submerged beneath the reptile instinct, and as the cipactli started looking at A.K. as though she were a potential meal, Celestia used her magic to tranquilize it once again.

———————

A.K. did her best to stifle a yawn as she and Celestia exited the police station into the summer night. The rush of enthusiasm that had accompanied her initial epiphany about Curiosity had all but fizzled out, and her insistence that she be allowed to interview the cipactli that very evening now seemed embarrassingly immature. There hadn’t been any pressing reason not to wait until the following day, after all.

Of course, that raised a completely different question: why on earth had Celestia acquiesced so quickly? She had only put up a token resistance before sending Ironside to inform the Vanhoover Police Department of her imminent return. Was it to prove a point? There were a lot of ideas bouncing around her head as she accepted Celestia’s invitation to fly up to a nearby cloud to observe the night sky. The two of them sat in appreciative silence for several minutes before A.K. restarted the conversation.

“I... I guess there wasn’t any need to hurry after all.”

“On the contrary,” Celestia said, “I think our activities this evening were quite necessary.”

A.K. cocked an eyebrow skeptically. “Really?”

“Well, if we are judging the situation on whether we’re closer to solving this mystery, then I suppose it was much ado about very little—and I admit that that was why I initially wanted to wait until morning. However, it was your friendship with Curiosity that made our little adventure possible in the first place, and you should never ignore the magic of friendship.”

“The magic of friendship? No offense, but that’s a really corny metaphor.”

“And why do you assume I was being metaphorical?”

“You’re telling me that friendship is magic?”

“Sometimes it can be.”

“So, what, there’s a chance that my friendship alone is enough to get Curiosity back to normal?”

“Perhaps. The way that personal relationships affect pony magic is a much-neglected field, with most of the recorded knowledge focusing on the detrimental effects of social isolation.”

“Recorded... by you?”

Celestia sighed. “No, but they probably should have been. Maybe then, there wouldn’t be any doubts.”

“Doubts about what?”

It was at this point that Celestia realized where the conversation was drifting. If she was to change course, now was the time to do it. The princess looked down at her companion, and she saw a face full of inquisitiveness, with perhaps a touch of concern, but a face that also displayed a sense of trustworthiness. “About my sister,” she finally said.

“Your... your sister?! You mean Nightmare Moon?”

“No, I mean Luna, who is now known to posterity as Nightmare Moon. I take it you’re familiar with the story?”

“Uh, yeah. You and your sister ruled Equestria together long ago, but she got jealous because ponies liked you better, so she tried to take over. The two of you fought, you won, and you banished her to the moon.” A.K. looked up at the celestial ball, which was conveniently full that night. “And there she is,” she said as she stared at the shadowy figure of a mare’s head. “Or at least, the stories say that she’s still up there. But then again, the stories also say that she could come back at any moment to punish misbehaving foals, so I’m guessing it’s not that accurate.”

“It may be more accurate than you think,” Celestia said. “The major flaw, as far as I can tell, is the notion that her wrath will be confined to the guilty. To her mind, all of the ponies left her in isolation, thus she may believe that all are at fault and will be punished accordingly.”

“Wait, you mean she’s not just a boogie mare? She’s actually dangerous?”

“Very much so. And her return draws ever closer. With each passing year, it weighs greater on my mind. In fact, the main reason I initially decided to take up your cause was as an escape from my own fears and doubts.”

“Well, if this was all caused by ponies refusing to spend time with her, I guess that why you wish you’d thought to study friendship and magic back then,” A.K. said, “but why would you have any doubts about what happened? I mean, even if it’s not a formal study, couldn’t you get a good idea of what really happened by rereading your notebooks?”

Celestia gave her companion a weary, mirthless smile. “This was long before I acquired the habit of writing down important details.”

“But I thought you said you couldn’t remember anything that wasn’t in your records.”

“I was oversimplifying a bit. I forget things when I have no reason to call them to mind, in much the same way that everypony else does. The night I banished my sister, however, has been replaying itself in my memory every day for nearly one thousand years.”

“Okay, I guess that makes sense, but I still don’t see why you’d have any reason to second-guess yourself if you’ve never had a chance to forget anything.”

“Ah, but here we run into the second hard lesson I had to learn about memories: they aren’t set in stone. If you make one mistake in a single recollection, that mistake will overpower reality in your memory from that point forward—unless, of course you have a reliable contemporary account written down as a correction, which I don’t have.

“As a result, I have no idea how close the bedtime story is to reality, which means that much of the actual details of how I defeated her are questionable. As a result, even though I’ve been diligently formulating countermeasures against her inevitable return, I can never be truly certain that they will actually be effective. The nuances of pony magic are such that a mage as skilled as my sister can take advantage of any flaw in my defenses, especially since she has been free of distractions for the last millennium as she prepares her offense.”

“Well, are you sure she’ll be hostile?” A.K. asked. “Maybe she’ll have genuinely changed her ways.”

“I suppose it’s possible,” Celestia admitted, “and in truth, nothing would please me more than to learn that all of my worries have been baseless. But in my experience, corruption does not dwindle in isolation—it festers like a cancer. At the end of the day, all I can do is enact what safeguards I can manage before I face her once again, hoping that I haven’t overlooked some important detail that has been lost to the ages.”

“Whoa,” A.K. said as she tried to figure out the right way to respond to this. “That’s... well, that’s heavy. I can’t say I envy your job. I mean, I always knew there had to be more to it than telling other ponies what to do, but this is something else entirely. I really wish I could help you somehow.”

“Indeed?” Celestia asked

“Well, yeah—and not just because I don’t particularly like the idea of your sister being in charge. I mean, it can’t be easy for you to open up about this kind of stuff, yet you opened up to me. I may not be the most socially skilled pony, but I feel like I should be able to do more than say, ‘Sorry to hear that; hope it all works out.’ I mean, you certainly deserve more than that.”

Celestia paused briefly, and then smiled. “You were willing to listen to the ramblings of a very old mare. Never underestimate how much good that can do. I assure you, you have my gratitude.”

A.K. was silent for a few moments, as if she was contemplating what she was going to say next. However, just as she opened her mouth, Monitor’s voice broke its way into the conversation. “Your Majesty, something’s come up that needs your attention.”

“What’s going on?” Celestia asked as her mind returned to the present.

“The thieves—they’ve been caught.”

———————

“So, how did you apprehend the suspects?” Celestia asked the chief of police as she moved briskly through the hallways of the Vancouver Police Department.

“They tried to hit the museum again earlier this evening, just after closing time,” the chief replied. “Seems they weren’t expecting the usual security to have been supplemented by the police. That, or they thought we wouldn’t be prepared for that knockout spell they used last time.”

“Really?” A.K. asked as she tried to keep up. She’d read her share of “canter and banter” scenes in crime novels in the past, but she hadn’t realized that in real life there was actual cantering involved. “That seems really... uh...”

“Shortsighted?” Celestia proffered.

“Well, I was going to say ‘stupid,’ but that works, too,” A.K. replied. “I mean, if they were good enough to plan that museum heist in the first place, why wouldn’t they have come up with a better plan for a second job?”

“That’s one of the reasons we wanted you to return,” the police chief said. “The two of you got a good look at the perpetrators at the dig site, so you can identify whether these are the same ponies.”

“So, what, we’re doing one of those lineup things?” A.K. asked. “With the fancy one-way mirror?”

“Correct,” the chief replied. “This way, please.”

Several minutes later, A.K. and Celestia were seated behind a window looking into a brightly-light room—presumably, the pane of this window was the aforementioned mirror. The police brought in two groups of ponies for them to examine. First came a group of of earth pony stallions, most of whom had coats in assorted shades of brown, followed by a second group of unicorn mares whose coats ranged from purplish-blue to bluish-green. All were given a line of text to read aloud: “This places is locked up tighter than Celestia’s lingerie closet.”

As it happened, this particular sentence made identification a particularly simple matter, as only one pony from each group became visibly nervous when repeating the phrase, indicating that they had concluded that Princess Celestia was sitting on the other side of the mirror. Given how common the idiom was in less respectable circles, the only ponies who would find it notable were the ones who’d come face to face with the alicorn.

“Those two are definitely the same ponies we met before,” Celestia said, “and based on the conversation we overheard at the time, there is is a strong likelihood that they perpetrated the museum robbery as well.”

“Which takes us right back where we started,” the police chief said with a sigh. “Why on earth did two professionals rush into a situation without bothering to come up with a half-decent plan?”

“Fear,” Celestia replied after a brief pause.

“What do you mean?” asked the chief.

“They were working with somepony—or, I should say, someone—during the initial heist,” Celestia explained. “The exact nature of this assistance has yet to be determined, but it seems likely that this conspirator wanted a glyph from the collection as their share.”

“But those two screwed up and stole the wrong one, and now they’re desperate to save their flanks,” A.K. added, catching on immediately. “First, they tried to find some blank glyphs so their ‘friend’ could make their own, and when that didn’t work, they decided to hit the museum again and steal the right glyph... or maybe even all of the glyphs, just to be safe.”

“But... who could provoke that kind of response?” the chief asked.

“I do not know,” Celestia said, “but if mere threats can incite recklessness of this sort, I doubt they believe your police department can protect them from their wrath. Fortunately for them, I am here. If it is not too much trouble, can I question the two with my associate?”

———————

This was, without a doubt, the worst day of Master Key’s life. Worse than the day his locksmithing business went under, worse than the day that loan shark had sent some thugs to rough him up, and worse than the time his first partner in crime had sold him out in court. In fact, the only day that even came close to today on the awfulness scale was the day he’d first met the shadowy figure who’d gotten him into this mess in the first place.

At least he was fairly certain that Aurora wasn’t going to rat him out. Not because Aurora Haze was any more honorable than his first partner, mind you—rather, Master Key doubted that the unicorn would try to cut a deal while he was in the same room. For some unknown reason, the police had decided to question them at the same time, and it was really difficult to turn traitor when your partner could look you in the eye and glare the loyalty back into you.

Still, the interrogators were taking their sweet time getting here, though Master Key didn’t really mind. He briefly considered speaking with Aurora to make sure they kept their story straight, but decided against it; after all, there was no reason to think that cops couldn’t listen in to any conversations that happened in the windowless room. Instead, he continued thinking about the issue that had been bugging him ever since the lineup: Celestia’s theoretical lingerie closet.

Come on, just because they had you say that line, it doesn’t mean that Celestia was the one they called in to identify you. It could have been that pegasus who was with her. And even if it was the princess on the other side of the mirror, it’s not like the cops are going to waste her time by having her question us when they can do the job themselves. He glanced over at Aurora, who was staring straight ahead at a blank wall, trying to keep her face as expressionless as possible. There has to be a reason for questioning us at the same time. It must be some new interrogation technique they thought up. That had to be it. After all, “good cop bad cop” didn’t work when the suspect knew that the “bad cop” wasn’t actually going to follow through with their threats.

Master Key was just starting to ponder what new way the police had thought up to coax out a confession when he heard the door open—and saw a tall, white alicorn stride gracefully into the room, followed by a light brown pegasus and a pair of royal guards. Oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap...

“Greetings,” Celestia said politely as she sat down at the metal table across from Master Key while the pegasus took a seat next to her. The guards stood at attention by the door, glaring at the criminals. “I was hoping we could continue our discussion from yesterday,” the princess continued.

Master Key and Aurora glanced at each other briefly, but remained silent.

“As I had been saying,” Celestia continued, “as head of the Equestrian government, I am free to issue commutations or pardons as I see fit, and providing valuable assistance to the Crown would most certainly make you worthy of consideration.”

Master Key had been through the system enough time to recognize the flowery vocabulary of the Equestrian legal system, and he knew what this meant: testify in court, and we’ll go easy on you. He kept his mouth shut, but Aurora had other ideas. “You seriously expect me to agree to sell him out when he’s sitting right there?”

“On the contrary, I expect both of you to sell out whoever has you in such a panic that you would be willing to make a second attempt at robbing the museum. And don’t try to claim that there is no such person: my associate and I overheard the two of you talking about them when we encountered you at the dig site. Who is it, and why do they have such an interest in the Vanhoover Historical Society’s collection of glyphs?”

“We, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about,” Master Key said.

At this point, the pegasus sitting next to Celestia lost her patience. “Oh, give me a break! We know you were supposed to steal a glyph for someone who was helping you out because you were talking about getting a blank from the dig site! I get that they’re probably dangerous, but do you seriously think that Celestia won’t be able to keep you safe from them? Or would you rather be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life waiting for them to get you because you failed?”

Master Key looked over at his partner and cocked an eyebrow inquisitively.

Aurora Haze sighed. “We might as well tell them. It sounds like they’ve got us whether we cooperate or not, and somehow, I get the impression that he wasn’t going to give us another chance anyway.”

Master Key looked at Celestia. “If we help you out, can you make sure we don’t serve time anywhere near here? This guy might have a ton of followers, but I don’t think his influence stretches out that far.”

“That can be arranged,” Celestia said. “Provided you tell me what you know of ‘this guy.’”

“He calls himself Oakheart, but that’s a standard fake name in this part of Equestria—the kind of name a guy gives you as a warning not to look into his real name. Well, I’m actually just assuming it’s a guy, but I’ve never actually seen him.”

“You mean you’ve never met?” the pegasus asked with obvious confusion.

“No, we’ve met him a few times,” replied Aurora, “but he’s always been shrouded in shadows and we’ve never been allowed to get close enough to get a good look at him. Most of the time, we deal with his followers.”

“Gang members, you mean?” Celestia asked.

“Well, I guess the law might consider them to be a gang,” Master Key said, “but they reminded me more of a cult than anything else. A lot of them wear robes, though I don’t know if that’s for creepy religious stuff, or just to make sure we never saw too much to identify them, like their cutie marks.”

“But if they aren’t a cult,” Aurora added, “it’s close enough that it doesn’t make much difference. They never question him, and they get really hostile if you question him.”

“Why was he after the glyph?” the pegasus asked, leaning forward.

“Don’t know,” said Master Key. “He just said it was really important to him, and that he’d help us break into the museum if we could get the one he wanted. He gave Aurora a scroll with instructions for a crazy powerful knockout spell, and he said we could keep anything else from the haul, so long as we got the glyph.”

“Which didn’t happen, and that made him mad, and that’s why you’ve been taking dumber and dumber risks,” the pegasus said.

“I’m sorry,” Master Key said as he shook his head slowly. For a nopony, this mare had an awfully big mouth. “Who the heck are you again?”

“She is called Daring Do,” Celestia said, jumping into the conversation and apparently really irritating the pegasus in the process. “She’s an archaeologist who has been assisting me.”

Master Key sniffed derisively. “Whatever. Are we done here?”

“Almost. Do you know where we can find ‘Oakheart?’”

“The few times we met with him, it was in the forest, near the entrance to a cave,” Aurora said. “We have no idea if that cave is connected to his actual hideout.”

“At the very least, it will bring us closer to the bottom of this mystery,” Celestia said. “One final question: can you point out this cave entrance on a map?”

“Yeah, it shouldn’t be a problem. We can get you close, at least,” Master Key said.

“That is very helpful,” Celestia said with a smile. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

Author's Note:

Special thanks to djthomp and all of the other supporters on my Patreon.

I've also got an original short story available for purchase on Amazon.

Comments

[RanmaChaos]

Another enjoyable chapter. Good job.

[HolyCross9]

It's good to see that Celestia has shared information about her sister to A.K. Yearling. Also, why would the solar Princess have a lingerie closet if she's got an exposed posterior like most ponies? Because as Applejack once said during the Season 1 Finale "we don't normally wear clothes."

[Yami Vizzini]

So Celestia doesn't actually remember how she banished Luna?...Well, that's the passage of time for you.

The look on some scumbag's face when he realizes he's face to face with his ageless god-empress never gets old.

[FanOfMostEverything]

Hmm. Given the transmutation glyphs, I have to wonder if our likely villain is an ahuizotl yet. In any case, the mystery unravels somewhat. Hopefully they'll think to get a jumbo-sized inkwell for Curiosity. Maybe if he tried fingerpainting...

8337939
Especially strange given how the Elements are part of the legend... though I suppose Celestia might not be sure if they're an embellishment or not.

[Kwakerjak]

8337939
She does remember, but she's not sure how accurate her memories are, because she's aware of how false memories can be planted. Basically, when others repeat details about your past enough times, your mind will create a memory that lines up with those details, even if those details aren't true.

[LurkyMcLurkerson]

Canter and banter... That's awesome.

The Usual Suspects 'give the the keys' riff was fun too.

[ShadeTail]

Please still be working on this! I've really enjoyed your non-petriculture stories (and the petriculture ones also, for that matter, but I digress), and I really want to see how this one shakes out.

[Ice Star]

It's a shame there's not more of this; I rather liked it. The story is a very comfortable one, and I'm really digging your style the more I delve into it. Is there any word on its status?