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One Century After Nightfall1,696 words
Thirty Years After Introduction2,091 words
Five Hundred Years After the first Solving1,785 words
Bonus Chapter - 3 years after adoption1,338 words
Forty Years After Adoption1,722 words
One Century Before Return1,382 words
The Return1,511 words
3 Months After Return1,394 words
Bonus Chapter - Trixie Ponies1,105 words
A Discordant Talk1,250 words
Pirates of Ponyville1,477 words
An Odd Trip Home1,792 words
Ponies, Pirates, and Pies1,741 words
A Family Hoard1,324 words
A Bone To Pick1,486 words
Halloween Special! - Crystal Concert1,696 words
A Very Merry Hearth Warming2,471 words
Two Necromancers Accidently a Town1,838 words
A Lone Intruder3,099 words
Impossible Gifts and Unknown Tales1,689 words
A Tablet and Games1,323 words
The Alpha1,544 words
The Omega1,527 words
Many Dark Aeons1,168 words

A Lone Intruder

Last Chance was not a complex pony. He liked good drinks, good food, and good company. To fund his love of fine things he had pursued a line of work which provided plenty of wealth: tomb raiding. He used some of the money gained by his “explorations” to buy more and better equipment; which allowed entry into even wealthier tombs, which meant even more money. Sure, some of the more noble adventurers would say selling his finds to the highest bidder was “immoral”, but he didn’t really care as long as it paid. If he was the one who put in the effort to find an untouched ruin, then he got to decide what happened to the stuff inside it. Like he was about to do with the sunken city of Innsmare; thought lost for centuries, the last bastion of the Siren race was under his hooves. Just the wealth on display in the entry chamber he’d managed to find would more than pay for his troubles! He lifted his breathing mask with a smile. "Well well, lookee here. I see emerald necklaces, gold statues, and even pretty paintings."

He looked over the room, filled with artifacts of bygone eras, but paused abruptly. A sign hung above the door to the next room, obviously a recent addition; after all, the sirens hadn’t been known to use tape. In bold letters it said. "Be warned: This is a hard hat area. Please take a helmet from the rack on the other side of the door before proceeding." Beside the text was an oddly proportioned skull wearing an orange hard hat with a skeletal thumb pointed up. Last Chance stared for a moment before moving to peek through the doorway.

Sure enough, there was a rack with several rows of hard hats sitting just inside the door. Last Chance stared for a moment before muttering. "Geez, obvious ruin trap is obvious. Even if it is weird." He took a step forward and began looking around, only to quickly roll backward when one of his tools warned him he’d triggered a magic sensor. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quick enough to dodge something hitting him in the head and tumbling to the floor - though it was far lighter than he’d expect from a trap. Examining the object, he found only an empty cardboard box. "What in Tartarus?"

A male voice spilled from the hard hat rack. "Recorded message begins." The voice paused for a moment, and Chance flinched as Celestia's voice spilled from the rack. "Silly pony, where's your hard hat?"

Chance stared at the rack before sighing and donning a hard hat. "If the princess calls me a silly pony, who am I to argue? Let's get to the bottom of this." With that, he stepped into the hallway.

As Last Chance explored the ruins he was constantly resisting the urge to salivate. Long lost treasures abounded in every hall and through every room. He passed several ancient gems, numerous befuddling carved stone tablets, and mounds of coins. Last Chance smiled as he reached a large set of double doors. Several of the doors had signs hanging above their frames, but this one was different. Instead of cartoonish advice or strange warnings, this one simply said said NO ENTRY, with the only decoration being a strange sigil on the door itself. If there was this much treasure in the more accessible areas, what wonders were behind the first doors he’d seen actually forbidding entry?

There were a number of handicaps Last Chance needed to use tools to overcome; though being an earth pony had its perks, being able to identify whether or not a sigil was a defensive spell or a decoration was beyond his natural abilities. Pulling out a monocle, he held it over one eye and looked over the door. After a moment, he smiled. "A simple lock spell. Luckily, a good raider is always prepared." He took off the monocle, placing it back in his bag before pulling out a wooden stick with a knot at the end. Holding it in his teeth, he moved to the door and calmly knocked three times. A black glow enveloped the sigil, and Chance held his breath as the door opened with a click.

Inside the room were four plinths, with a statue of a strange bipedal creature atop each. The first was large and imposing, the model posed as if defending against a threat. It wore simple iron armor, though there were strange etchings covering the surface. Its face was molded in primal joy, teeth clenched in a fierce grin. Last Chance looked it over, trying to place the engravings, but they didn't make sense. One was of a bipedal figure being hit by a large carriage, another the same figure falling off a bridge. At its feet were several objects he didn’t recognize. One was a small glass pane with a button at the bottom that shone as the light hit it. Beside it sat a set of keys with a small figure sitting primly on their ring. Finally, a strange object sat at the end that reminded Last Chance of Griffon crossbows. Near each item was a plaque.

Last Chance read them aloud, trying to figure out the secrets of the statues. "The tablet of knowledge. When charged, this item has libraries worth of books available at the touch of a finger." He paused. "The Tart's a finger? Anyways, the keys of hope. Wherever one of these keys fits shall be our true home. While our life may be different now, we will never stop searching for the way home." Last Chance stared at the keys. "Awfully sentimental... Okay, now for the one I'm most curious about." He turned his gaze to the last inscription. "And this is a freaking gun!"

Last Chance stared in annoyance. "Feh, that answers jack-diddly." He moved to the next plinth. It held an obviously female statue wielding a bow with a loosely nocked arrow. The statue was draped in a thick cloth covered with silver embroidery. The flowing script of the embroidery reminded him of the strange symbols of the hill folk in Southern Equestria. Her face was more serene than the last statue, the sharp features of the statue seeming to fight against her almost ethereal calm. Below its plinth sat three more items. One was a simple rectangular box with a camel embossed upon its cover. Another was a plush animal - a leopard, from the look of it. The last was a small pouch full of seeds.

Once again he read the plaques. "Death sticks. Strange artifacts that can provide a calming influence and make the user look cooler, but both addict and shorten the lifespan of the user. Shame follows every use." Last Chance raised an eyebrow. "Who'd be stupid enough to use those?" Moving to the next item Last Chance found the plaque a bit smudged. He ran a hoof over it to clean off the grime. "The Major. A true friend who has stood at our side for our entire lives. May his eternal vigil never falter." Last Chance looked at the plush animal. "Sentimental again. Is this a shrine of sorts, or maybe a mausoleum? I should probably take some photos before I move anything. It won't get me a huge profit, but I should be able to sell them to a museum or university." Finally, he moved to the third item. "Seeds from home. May we plant them only when we have truly found our way back."

The next plinth held another male statue. He wore no armor, just simple clothes. The shirt had short sleeves, and had a wolf portrayed on the front. He was kneeling, a red box with a white cross open in his lap. Beneath the wolf, words were printed: 'I hunt the things that go bump in the night'. Chance had a slight feeling and moved to the statue’s back. Sure enough, three sentences were on the back. 'There are wolves. There are sheep. I am the sheepdog.'

Last Chance considered the statue. "That seems like something some sort of guard would have, but the first statue matches a guard better." He rubbed his chin for a moment before heading back to look at the statue’s face. Taking a closer look, he saw pure determination. Its eyes were narrowed, and a large rag was held in its teeth. Looking towards the box he could see a needle in the statue’s second hand, a single drop of liquid at the end of it immortalized in stone.

Once again items stood at the base of the plinth. The first was a metal chain with two oval tags hanging from it. Its text was too small for Last Chance to try to read without disturbing the necklace. The second was a cracked plate of unknown make, almost broken in half by a powerful force. It seemed like the plate was a piece of armor, though he had no idea what had broken it. The third item was a scrap of paper. It was easily read, as it only had one word: Sin. Under the word was a collection of fifteen tally marks. Last Chance moved to the plaques, feeling as if fate itself was forcing him to look at these ancient lives.

He squinted his eyes, looking over the first plaque. "The Tags of Noble Sacrifice. This necklace denotes one who has signed on as a protector of our home. While many do not see the true tragedy this necklace can bring, our group has now seen true horror; may these remind us that our own home is not as blameless as we may believe." Last Chance shuffled away from the necklace. "Hello, probably cursed necklace, and goodbye." He moved to the next plaque. "The Broken Death. This piece of armor saved the life of our greatest healer. May it stand as a testament to the risks of our undertaking; even random chance may try to kill us. We must be vigilant." He moved to the final item. "The Tally of Sin. This shows the greatest sins of our healer. It is modeled after the brand he chose himself, etched into his skin. This is a reminder for us; may he never again be forced to pick up blade or bow."

Last Chance stared at the paper again. He was beginning to understand the statues a little, or at least this particular one. He moved to look at the last statue, of a little girl with a carefree smile on her face, but as he began to approach he was startled by a voice. "Who are you?" Last Chance jumped towards the source of the sound and saw death itself.

At the entryway was a skeleton. It wore a robe of solid black, and in its hand was a small bag. It was staring at Last Chance with an emotionless face. There had occasionally been creatures in the ruins he explored, but none had ever talked to him - especially when they looked dead. A single thought crossed his mind: this was HIS mausoleum. And Last Chance had broken the lock and wandered right in. The skeleton continued. "Once again, who are you? Who has entered Ragar's most personal sanctum?"

Last Chance unfroze and tried to think of a way out of this. Stalling for time, he bowed his head low. "I apologize! I didn't know that this ruin was inhabited. I am Last Chance, explorer and delver into the unknown."

Ragar looked over the pony. "Did you not see the sign? Ragar only barred one room, and several explorers have found his ruins before. Why did you break into the one room still locked?"

Last Chance suddenly felt less clever about his lack of communication with the other explorers. Sure, involving them might cut into his profits, but he wished he had been warned about... this. "I, I didn't know, I thought they were under preservation wards." He tried to think of some way to get out of this situation. He had gotten the lead on this place from a minotaur sage. Maybe that could help? "To be honest, I was told to come here." He paused again, trying to think of something to say that would ensure his safe passage home. "I-I think he was a friend of yours? He looked sort of like you, if you had skin."

Ragar paused. When he spoke again it was quiet, but filled with hope. "What did they look like? Where were they?"

Last Chance seized the opportunity, hoping to escape the situation with some smooth words. "Of course! He was about ten hooves tall and clothed in steel plate. I ran into him in Minos. He spoke crudely, and asked me to deliver a message to any who might be in the ruins."

The skeleton was so excited by this that it began spinning in place. "Oh, by the greatest boons of the world! Ragar's solitude might finally be broken! He has not seen any of his friends since before the vile curse that separated him from his own family." His spin turned into a dance. "Tell me, Mr. Chance, what did he say? What did he say?!"

Last Chance paused. This was not the reaction he had been hoping for. Perhaps the skeleton would let him leave if he said something suitably vague? "He said that if I ran across the ruler of the sunken city, to say." He cleared his throat, trying to make it sound deep and imposing. "Tell that old bag of bones that I'm traveling around, and he should hurry up and track me down."

As soon as his sentence finished, the spinning abruptly stopped. The voice that had been nearly laughing was now deathly still. "He said that? Word for word?"

Last Chance gulped. "Um, yeah. Is that not what you wanted to hear?"

Ragar turned slowly and set the bag down while staring into Last Chance's eyes. "Do you know much about how memory works when stuck under the effects of a long term healing spell?"

Last Chance paused but latched on to the conversation topic like a shipwrecked pony without a lifeboat. "No, though I've always had an academic interest in magic."

Ragar walked forward, the clacks of bone on the cold stone the only noise in the hall. "When someone is placed into a high power healing coma, they lose the memory of the last few hours of their life. Much like a pony who drinks too much, they will not remember what happened prior to needing such intense healing." Ragar paused at the stone guardian and raised a skeletal hand to touch the armor. "All but one of the people these statues are modeled are after are in such a coma. When they awaken they will find a notebook filled with a wealth of information, bar one fact. Can you guess what that fact is?"

Last Chance flinched as Ragar's head snapped to him. Empty eye-sockets betrayed no emotion as Ragar seemed to shine with power. "U-um, no sir."

Ragar's cloak exploded outwards as he flew through the air, closing the gap between them in an instant. "THERE IS NO MENTION OF ME TURNING INTO THIS DAMNABLE LICH! I WILL SHOW THEM MY STAINED SOUL MYSELF!"

He lifted Last Chance up by his throat with both skeletal hands and started to squeeze before a light sparked behind his eyes. Pausing, he held Chance off the ground with one hand and threw his other hand out. Black smoke rose from the floor, and from it a bestial hiss was heard. After a moment an alicorn with furless black skin emerged. His horn was shattered, though held together with magic. His wings were bat-like, but with numerous holes dotting their membranes. Where a normal pony would have a tail was a scorpion stinger, coiled back as if ready to strike. He opened his mouth as if to complain before seeing the morbid image in front of him. "Dad, what happened?"

Ragar seemed to waver in place, his skeleton warping. "This thief broke into my home and then had the gall to lie to me. Here, in this very room, he claimed to have seen one of my friends. Talk to me, son. Keep me from crushing his throat like a fragile glass tube as I so dearly want to."

The alicorn stepped closer and Last Chance’s eyes darted between the horrible alicorn and the terrifying skeleton. He was unsure which figure was scarier; the furious skeleton holding him by his throat or the monstrous alicorn looking over this scene and remaining calm - as if this was just an ordinary day. The alicorn put a hoof on Ragar's back. "Dad, she would never forgive you. Maybe a long time ago you would have killed him. But not now. Now you know a better way. Let him atone."

Silence reigned for a few moments, and then Last Chance felt a brush of hot air on his face. "You are right, son." Ragar dropped Last Chance like an empty sack. Before he even had a chance to regain his breath, let alone run, red smoke began to rise from the ground. No scream could gain purchase as the smoke flew into his mouth, nostrils, and ears. His body spasmed as the smoke flooded into him. The alicorn flinched, looking away. "That's... disturbing."

Ragar said nothing, instead simply staring. The spasms continued for several minutes before the body stilled as the smoke poured back out, coalescing into a small red orb floating in the air. With a wave of Ragar’s hand Last Chance’s body disappeared. He turned to the orb. "You are free to go wherever you wish. Nothing can see you, and nothing can harm you. I am the only one who can even communicate with you. Your punishment is simple. As you lied to me about one of my friends walking this world, you yourself will wander until that lie becomes the truth. If you bring me information about ruins or artifacts I have not yet discovered, I may reduce your sentence. Now go, and don’t come back for at least thirty years." The orb quickly flew off, leaving the hall quiet once again. Ragar walked up to the statue of the little girl and cradled her face with his hands. After a moment he collapsed to the ground, where he stayed as Black Sun trotted up and wrapped his father in his wings. The hall filled with quiet sobs.

Author's Note:

Guldane managed to have a great idea that makes this whole thing a bit less dark and opens doors. Bow to our glorious overlord Guldane! I'm gonna have to play with the next chapter a bit, but enjoy this, it's a bit less comedy-centric but I hope you enjoy it either way.

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