Savage
She wasn't sure if the entrance should have looked worse than it was, or... if everything had degraded to the point where it was no longer possible to truly judge.
The first seemed more likely. There were a few normal trees near the cliff face: the last normal trees, and... Cerea was trying to figure out why they were present at all. Perhaps the source of the drain had decided to indulge in a single aspect of discretion. Allow the usual environment to exist just outside the entrance, so that any who entered the area via flight (and didn't pay all that much attention to what they were passing over) would decide that all was well. Everything was normal. And as illusions went, it was rather inexpert. All anyone had to do was turn around.
She kept wanting to turn. To see if that last branch had made any effort to reach for her again --
-- there was a cliff face, and not a particularly large one. They were at the base of what, for any other facet of approach, would have just been an unusually abrupt hill: something which erupted from the earth like a blackhead from human skin. No slow elevation changes requiring gradually-tightening clusters of contour lines: simply that which should have been, surrounding an intrusion swollen with foulness.
But that was just what the centaur had brought with her: the way she had chosen to think of it. The hill was abrupt, rose too quickly, would have been almost unclimbable without specialized equipment --
or just being an ibex
-- but if she looked even partially around the curve of the rise, it turned into a hill. One which rose no more than forty meters: Moon was more than full enough to grant her some idea of the elevation, at least once she'd backed up a bit.
(It was an excuse for backing up.)
And for what could be seen to the sides... a few normal trees had found ways to take root, because there were species whose base requirements were soil and a lack of local competition: the results were mostly vertical. Juniper could be found on such surfaces, and a distant scent told the centaur that a bristlecone pine was thriving. But when she looked straight ahead...
There was a cliff face, one largely composed of dark basalt (and perhaps that was adding to the impression of eruption). The majority of exposed rock existed as layered vertically-resting slabs: something which suggested a cosmic hand had decided to play a shape-fitting game in three dimensions for an hour -- one where the goal was to never quite finish a level line. Monoliths atop monoliths, narrow rectangles (at least when compared to the scope of the cliff), with some projecting further than others. It would have been easy for a pony to stand atop the largest of the exposed upper ledges: the narrowest offered just enough room to accommodate a few sparrows.
(They hadn't heard any birds in hours.)
Most of the rock was fully bare, as if that same hand had carefully peeled away any concealing layers of soil in order to grant a better view of the work. You had to search high in order to find any scant deposits of earth -- but that was where the vines had rooted.
Most of them were dead. Perhaps they would have been dead regardless, with winter so close: Cerea couldn't tell if it was the sort of death which was waiting for a chance at temporarily reversing itself. But it left thick ropes of vegetable corpses hanging on the rock.
Twisted brown cellulose cascaded across the cave's mouth. Obscured the edges, making it hard to find the borders between varieties of darkness. All Cerea could tell, even under full Moon, was that the entrance was roughly twenty meters high, and nearly that wide across. But to know how deep it went, just how far the wound might extend into the earth -- that required entrance.
"Do you want to play?"
Most of the Bearers were having trouble looking directly at it: one of the last enchantments. Trixie, who'd put herself some distance away and behind what otherwise would have been the far right of the group, was focused on nearly everything else. Anything in the area which gave her another view for a few seconds, as long as it didn't look back. If it wasn't capable of noticing how much the light blue unicorn was shaking.
Some of the mares were visibly steadier than others. But every pony scent started at fear. Trixie went beyond that. And whenever she thought that somepony might be able to glance towards her, she receded a little deeper into the hill's shadow.
"...normal," Twilight exhaled. "This is -- just about what it should be." A little more softly, "I think. Nopony should rely on that. I wasn't here very long the last time, and the lighting was different." Her head dipped, and a narrow chin touched wood just before applying pressure: part of the shelf folded along a well-hidden hinge. "Things could change at any moment."
"You came by yourself," Rainbow stated, sounding as if she was vaguely annoyed about having missed out on something. "All by yourself, when you were traveling with him --"
"-- he was past the screen," Twilight quietly replied. "It was as safe as it was ever going to be. That's what Fluttershy reminded me of, when I saw what she was doing. What the screen was for." The snort was exceptionally low in volume, with all embarrassment directed inward. "Call it... magical obedience training, if you want to. It's a better term than for what I was going to do before I saw Fluttershy move. Because then I remembered what the screen would have done. I checked some of the oldest papers after I got home, and most of what I was about to do was being really stupid." With a tiny sigh, "He wasn't attacking, not really. The screen, when all of the spells are at work, when he's his lesser self... that was just about playing. But if I'd attacked..."
The little alicorn shuddered.
"I brought another ball," Pinkie gently offered. "Just in case."
(The girl had no idea what they were talking about.)
It brought out a faint, somehow wan smile. "Thank you, Pinkie -- but it won't help."
"You're sure?" Not without hope, but it was possible to listen as it progressively faded across each letter.
The narrow rib cage shifted across the duration of a small breath. "The ritual only works if he's behind the screen. Not outside it. He's part of the ritual. And..." One more inhalation. "Pinkie, all I did was send him inside. The palace had been alerted while I was still on the way, and they sent in their own investigation team. To resecure the area, and make some changes. That's why I thought nothing had gotten out: that's what the team told me. And that's most of what I was thinking about the way there. Why I was so relieved when I got back. I was already primed to think of nothing but disaster --" The little alicorn softly groaned. "-- that stupid week... and all the way there, I kept thinking -- what if something had gotten out? And... if I hadn't been so eager to get home, if I'd stayed to help..."
"We don't know when Tirek got out," Rarity quickly kicked in. "Or how, Twilight. To blame yourself --"
"-- is what I'm really good at," the alicorn finished. Finished folding the shelf, and a quick tooth nip yanked the wood away from its anchoring place on the collar: Spike dismounted, then collected it and removed the neck circlet entirely. "Trixie, we should probably have one last review before we go in -- Trixie?"
It took a few seconds before she looked back. Saw a streaked mane, one which was usually carried with self-assured confidence, on the verge of shaking itself apart.
"...Trixie?" Just a little more softly, as the little mare turned. Began to walk towards the unicorn, with every movement small and precise. The approach of somepony who knew when an equine was on the verge of breaking, right down to the gentle projection of tone. "It's okay. We're all scared. But we're all going in together. We'll be together --"
-- sharply, eyes far too wide as the first hints of froth rose up through the strands of the light blue coat, "Promise me."
The Bearers hung back. Letting Twilight have the approach, while angled shoulders showed they were ready to follow. The girl didn't move. She could see the terror, scent it, and for her to come any closer... things were bad enough already.
There was a tenderness in the next words. Caring, accompanied by a subtle undercurrent of audible fear. "Promise what?"
"Promise you'll bring me out." Heavy breathing, eyes locked forward, forehooves pawing at the ground. The sounds of metal scraping on rock. "You don't know how close I came! I never wanted to come here, but the Princesses, my probation -- she could have put me in here, Twilight, in here, all she had to do was say one word and --"
Frantically, "-- you didn't kill, Trixie -- it was the Amulet, you were the only pony who ever wore it and didn't kill --"
(The girl had no idea what they were talking about. When it came to the majority of what she'd heard since the air carriages had landed, it was an ongoing condition.)
The whites of the eyes were showing. The unicorn's neck was arched. Breaking was heartbeats away.
"-- PROMISE ME!"
"I promise," Twilight said. "I promise --"
"-- even if I die, even if you have to drag my corpse, you won't leave me in there --"
"-- Trixie, I promise..."
Four legs folded, and the unicorn collapsed.
She shivered in place, as the little mare slowly trotted up to her. Staring at the brief reflections which arose from her fallen tears, just before the soil took them away.
"...I'm... I'm holding you to that."
"I know." Closing the last of the distance.
"If you don't, then I'm going to be the most annoying ghost there ever was..."
"Also the first." One more hoofstep.
"You -- you promise?"
The nuzzle was slow. It started at the ears, and stayed there until they raised again.
"Promise."
And only then did the others approach.
Pinkie and Rarity were the slowest in doing so, and even they crossed the distance. But with Cerea...
She didn't understand what had happened.
She didn't know anything about what might have come before.
She...
...they comfort each other.
In public.
Whenever it's needed. No matter what's happening, or -- who's watching, or who might judge...
...she wasn't any part of that.
The girl slowly reoriented her body. Turned away, and began to trot towards the faint treeline. It took a moment before the alicorn noticed.
"Where are you going?" Not altogether harshly. Certainly not as harsh as the girl felt it could have been.
"We're about to go inside," Cerea heavily stated. "I... have orders."
Trinette knew ways of creating armor which allowed a mare to urinate without ever having to remove any part of it, and the specific lesson would have been given to the apprentice two weeks after the news of the gap's opening had broken. After that, there had been -- certain distractions. And Cerea had tried to figure it out while in the palace forge, but there had been too many other things to work on and besides, she was just the apprentice. Something which suggested a finishing place no higher than second.
...besides, she was almost certain that it would have required wearing a lot less padding.
The next step was to darken the armor. She'd been given a paste which Lunar Guards --
not me
-- used at times of need. It had the benefit of drying quickly. But it still took some time to spread, because she had to get it everywhere.
It wasn't something where she could have asked the Bearers for help. (Nothing was.) The girl didn't want any of the mares to put a paste-covered cloth in their mouths, and when it came to Spike... he was too small to reach very much. As it was, she had to put every encased limb to the double-jointed test in order to reach the most distant spots, and was convinced she'd utterly ruined the long-handled brush.
(It was also good for discovering just where the backup armor had required some extra work. She really wasn't sure about the left shoulder.)
Other portions could be done by hand, and... there was nothing erotic about running her hands over metal-covered curves. She just had to make sure she didn't miss anything, and ignoring the most visible targets would have been stupid.
She would have shed her worries, if she'd had any idea how. Meditated, if that had ever worked. But she didn't understand how such things were meant to function. All she could manage was the manual labor.
She had to remove all brightness from herself...
Cerea had been issued a scent-neutralizing spray, to be used after those orders had been fulfilled. It mostly taught her that ponies had a different standard for considering when a scent had been neutralized. Still, it was something which had been used by others before entering Tartarus. So in that aspect, it had been tested. Scents might not have been brought below the threshold of her Moon-touched detection, but she would be safe from the sensory range of the incarcerated.
Eventually, she felt ready --
-- I'm not
no one could be
except for a true knight --
-- and trotted back towards the Bearers.
She unintentionally passed a little too close to Twilight, and heard the little mare's quick sniff. The automatic assumption was that the alicorn was checking to see if the neutralizer had worked to satisfaction. However, the accompanying glance backwards found a purple snout trying to pick up scent from the fringe of fabric which hung below the lower edge of the armor. Sniffing at Cerea's skirt.
The centaur didn't understand. It was probably a cultural thing. That or bad aim.
"Dirt and leaves?" a watching, lightly smirking Trixie inquired for no apparent reason.
The alicorn faintly blushed. Turned to face the cave mouth, and Cerea watched as the others did the same.
"This is when we're the most vulnerable," Twilight quietly told them. "We've... been making a lot of assumptions. That Tirek's responsible --" the miniature smile was exceptionally grim "-- when he's just the first and best suspect. That whatever's doing this can detect the use or presence of magic, and drain it from a distance." With a tiny sigh, "For all we know, the cause is just close and invisible. But now that we're at the Gate -- this is when we have to use magic. There's no way we can attempt the ritual without it. And now we're assuming that if something can feel everything we do, including the ritual... that we're going to be allowed to complete it."
"The Princesses said there were two other Gates," Rainbow reminded them. "If something happens here, is there a way to get through one of those? Without magic?"
Twilight slowly began to shake her head -- then stopped. "Not the Gates, Rainbow. There's theoretically another way to get in, but..." Wincing, "Let's just say it's going to take a while. And you'd need somewhere to put all of the broken rock. It also doesn't invoke the translation, or -- promise any chance at an exit. This is how you put someone in when you want to make sure they can come out..."
She stopped. Shivered a little, in near-winter chill.
"I think we'll get to finish," Pinkie determined. "If it's Tirek, anyway. He might want us to finish."
Which focused the group's attention on her.
"He might suspect investigators, Pinkie," Rarity carefully said. "Something he would be reluctant to permit. Anyone looking into his activities -- that could stop him."
"I don't know if he thinks that way." The earth pony's tones felt oddly serious. "If he can think that way. Everything about him was 'Nothing can stop me!' To think you can be stopped... you have to think about what other people can do. You have to think about other people at all. And..."
The flour-scented mare sadly turned towards Fluttershy. Waited.
"...the one person he might have feared, even a little..." the pegasus softly filled in, "...isn't here." And she looked at Cerea -- but only for a second, and then her gaze slid away. "It's okay if you keep talking, Pinkie."
"I can't be sure how he thinks," Pinkie finished. "Just trying to imagine it is hard. It's like being a lake and wondering what a desert is up to. But... if he really really knew what we were about to do with the ritual, then he might let us finish, before he tries to attack. Because it's not sending in an investigator. It's delivering a meal."
And before anypony could react, before Cerea was even aware of words approaching her own tongue at all, the centaur heard herself say "Empty calories."
Rainbow snorted. Pinkie's features contorted a few times. There was an abrupt snicker somewhere off to the left. And by the time Cerea forced herself to fully look around and see if any more damage had been done, the Bearers were simply facing the cave again.
Moon shone down upon them. The last normal thing.
"We all know what we have to do," Twilight announced. "Let's go do it."
They moved forward. The little alicorn stayed close to Trixie. Near enough to, when the pace faltered, nudge knees straight again.
The glowsticks had strange ways of interacting with the basalt: yellow-green couldn't seem to decide whether it wanted to play across the stone or be absorbed by it. The light had a harder time dealing with the places where the basalt wasn't.
Portions of the tunnel didn't match the ground, or the lower sections of the cave walls. Cerea could see a few smoothed semicircles just barely protruding from the former: places where stalagmites had potentially been removed. But when she looked up... the stone didn't match. It failed to match in great curving blocks which associated with each other through the power of adhesives and the pressure of rumor. It was as if someone had made an effort to artificially narrow the passage, and done so in a way which allowed to be widened again in a relative hurry.
The centaur could neither hear nor scent the drip of water: something which was usually a constant in some part of a cave -- at least, for those which nature was still digging itself out. (Knights had a way of winding up in caves and as she was currently proving, so did those who were considerably more hapless.) But there was such a thing as a dry cave system --
with water, they're called live caves, without and they're dead
-- and perhaps the liquid was simply further down. They might even be heading towards it, as they'd been descending for some time.
It felt as if they should have cleared the other side of the hill...
Moon's light was well behind them now. The glowsticks were all they had: enough to see by, but... every hue was distorted. Fur had been sent for a spin around the color wheel, and every pony had seen the results land on You Lose. It was worst with Rarity, whose face was displaying both the dominant glow of the light and a traveling wince which suggested she knew it.
The sound of metal shoes and armor on stone. Breathing --
-- it felt as if the vibration had reached the girl's ears just before the sound, set the fur around the fringes into a matching tremble. And by the time she recognized that, every other part of her was beginning to resonate with the frequency of the growl.
It was more than something which filled the still air: there was a moment in which it was the air. It wasn't particularly loud (although it somehow managed to carry an implication that it could become much more so): it was merely omnipresent. It managed to simultaneously exist on both sonic and subsonic levels: the latter shook her tail before grounding itself in her teeth, while the former drowned out the input from breathing and hooves.
And it didn't stop. There was never any pause for breath, let alone one for thought. The growl was the air, the air became the world, and the world told them that they were not welcome.
"We're close." Twilight's reluctant words were audible through the constant sound, although certain syllables seemed to be falling into its harmonics.
"...that's him?" Fluttershy's whisper somehow managed to ask. "...I can go ahead, try to calm him down --"
"-- he's on the other side of the screen," Twilight urgently cut her off. "Don't."
"...but we've met." Yellow wings were beginning to unfold. "...he... he was just a big furry guy who was out of his yard, he'll remember me, he'll --"
"Don't."
The pegasus stopped. Half-unfurled limbs slowly shifted back towards her sides.
"There's a little bit of shimmer up ahead," Rainbow reported. "Anypo -- anyone else see that?"
Trixie nodded. "That'll be the screen." The mare's voice was tight. Controlled, and the scent told the girl that it was all a performance. "So at least that's active."
"For whatever that's worth," Spike muttered -- then noticed how many mares were looking at him. "Since we can't lure him through it without breaking the ritual."
"We might have to if things go bad," Twilight admitted. "To see if that calms him down. I'm just not sure if we have enough supplies for more than two attempts." She looked to the left, then tried the right, and finally had to step forward enough to get past Cerea's forelegs before an eyeline was established. "All right, everypony. This is where we need the sigils..."
Four heads turned. Teeth carefully flipped lids, and rummaging began.
Several segments of the briefing had been for the Bearers. The disc hadn't always been able to find a comprehensible equivalent for some of the terms which had been casually kicked around -- at least not before the next piece of academia came flowing down the pike. But Cerea had managed to decipher the relevant portion for this.
The sigils were one of Equestria's secrets. Not the material (electrum), or the fact that they existed: the design. Because the guardian would recognize it. A sigil would bring at least a moment of pause, long enough for the carrier to figure out what they were going to do next. And if the full configuration was ever revealed to the public...
Those who were imprisoned in Tartarus had been sent there because they had each, in their own way, tried to destroy the world. And revealing the design of a sigil would be like giving the human population free attempts at inputting nuclear launch codes through live connection. There would always be someone who was exactly that stupid.
Cerea was carrying a sigil. She was only supposed to display it if one of the other four holders dropped theirs, and she didn't even want to look at it too closely. She didn't ever want to be in a position where someone might force her to draw one from memory.
The bundles were deposited on the cave floor. Wrappings were removed and when it came to blocking odor, whatever had been done to the cotton had clear superiority over the spray. Cerea hadn't been able to get so much as the faintest whiff from her own package --
soil
soil soaked with blood
And then four ponies were carrying the things in their jaws, via the top ring. None of them looked particularly repulsed, which meant the bloodscent had to be fairly weak --
The growl changed. Intensified. There was a sound like a jet intake spinning up, and it had been tripled. Three giant scoops of air.
Trixie and Twilight still had their mouths clear. Fluttershy was the only other pony who was still able to freely speak.
"...we're ready?" the pegasus asked.
"As we're going to be," Twilight said. "Remember, we'll have some light up ahead: his side of the screen, and... the entrance. But there's also mountings on the wall for torches, or there should be. Pinkie, Applejack -- once we start the ritual, you two each light one of your torches and place them. If the mountings are gone for some reason, then... just hold them."
The orange mare carefully bent her forelegs and put the metal back onto the ground, just long enough to speak. "He ain't afraid of fire? Most --"
Grimly, "Why would he ever need to be?"
He. The guardian.
The only words which had been used to describe whatever was up ahead, and Cerea had left the briefing room before Twilight and Trixie had received their instructions. She didn't know what was making that sound. Only that it was constant, too constant for anything living because there would have been a need to stop for oxygen. Constant and...
...familiar?
There was something about the harmonics. As if some part of her knew what the sound was, but just couldn't adjust for the scale of it --
"You'll see a little bit of the chamber as we get close to the screen," Twilight told them. "And then there's a bend when you cross, and -- it'll open up all at once. Brace yourselves now, everypony. He probably won't chase us across the line if we retreat, because... he doesn't want to cross it. Not when he's like this. But too many attempts, and... he might not respect the sigils any more."
Applejack recovered hers. The group moved forward.
Cerea saw the sparkle in the air. (Even when she was Moon-touched, Rainbow's eyesight was superior to hers.) Began to pick up on the first hints of light beyond. The growling was still getting louder.
The sparkles became a slow-shifting curtain composed of miniature stars. Holiday lights built from white pinpricks. The most basic of displays and in some ways, the most beautiful. But it was vibrating in perfect attunement with the constant sound.
She was starting to glimpse part of the chamber: a rising curved basalt wall. Something which suggested the interior of a huge dome: one which had light present, illumination for which she couldn't find a source. But that was all she could see, and she couldn't scent anything within. It was possible that air didn't cross the line in this direction --
-- something moved across her vision: a momentary impression of black, something not so much fringed as notched. It made her think of a tail: one which had been poorly groomed, or bitten into a few times. Almost exactly like a tail, if that tail had somehow been --
"Step across now," Twilight instructed.
They all moved, and did so at the same instant when the guardian spun: something which happened with a jump and a landing which shook the world. The gigantic tail whipped across Cerea's sight as her head crossed the screen, and notches became serrations became waiting death --
She would think about it again, when she was deep within and wishing for something else to dwell upon. Any means of distracting herself from torment. But the first impression was formed in that endless instant, as every reflex she possessed went to war against poor discipline.
There was a need to turn, to run until she was back under Moon and could follow the trail. Doing nothing except running, until her legs finally collapsed. It was in battle against that which brought her free hand to her sword's hilt (she was still carrying the helmet, but she could drop it and go for the sling), ready to draw and do whatever she could to protect. Even if that only resulted in the monstrosity slumping forward. On top of her, which would at least buy the others a moment of distraction...
But she couldn't run. She wasn't supposed to attack. Her mind scrambled for something it could do, anything at all in a place where no training applied. And it landed on the typical sapient's talent for self-distraction.
Circular breathing.
A few liminals could manage the trick, while well-trained humans had found a way to approximate a weaker version. With the humans, it was mostly used by musicians. Those who favored wind instruments could give off the appearance of simultaneously inhaling and exhaling. Breath in through the nose while pushing cheek-stored air out through the mouth. Master it and notes could be held for a surprisingly long time.
In the case of the giant guardian, it was probably being managed via the possession of three throats.
How large was it? Perhaps five meters high at the peak of the back, and 'peak' was trying to put a level on deformity. The back was hunched, rising high above the triple heads, bulging with distorted muscles. (Some of the more curved lines suggested an internal bone structure supporting the hump, or at least trying to drive it higher.) Five meters high, and every bit as wide across the barrel because the collarbone structure had to support three necks. The rest of the rib cage just kept going from there.
There was foam coming off the jowls, thick hangings which occasionally dripped a giant dollop onto stone: anything which fell was immediately replaced. Thick and white, but tinged with a strangely deep purple along the edges of the bubbles. She didn't know why the color was making her think of a flower --
aconite
-- but the smell of it, the smell of everything about it, canine and lupine distorted and warped and grown vast like the growl, the growl which never had to end because there were three throats.
It actually didn't have much of a neck. (Necks.) From certain angles, the heads appeared to be nearly flush against the torso. What was present seemed to be just enough to hold the larynx. And it was possible that three throats led into just as many lungs, or perhaps the guardian had fully tripled up there as well. One head could inhale while the other two growled, that horrible low growl made giant and it was something she'd heard before, heard over and over because there were dogs in Japan who didn't know how to reconcile centaur scent, something which was a little equine and slightly human and mostly different. Dogs who growled because they didn't understand what was happening and the growl was supposed to hold the intruder back while they worked it out.
There was initially something about the guardian which made Cerea think of a bulldog, An underslung trio of jaws possessed teeth which didn't entirely fit in the mouths. The mad red eyes seemed to be on the verge of shedding drops of blood, while the jowls went everywhere because the endless drool had to be delivered somehow. The faces were about right for a bulldog, if you could work that much distortion into your vision. Something which would need to ignore the ways in which the bloodstained black fur had been drawn wire-fine, more bristle than brindle. Pet this and lose half the skin from your hand, just before the entire arm was bitten off. And that was presuming that the tail didn't catch you first, a blow from a weapon where the extensions coming off black bone had all the charm of a well-notched sawblade, along with bits of ragged flesh hanging from the edges.
She could think of a bulldog, because the heads had a little similarity. The legs had been bowed outwards in a fashion associated with some of the breed. But for a bulldog, the worst had already happened: they had been born as a bulldog. Everything which came after just had to be fun, and that unending optimism made them utterly endearing.
For the guardian, thick spurs of bone erupted from the foreknees: thick scabs of dried blood surrounded the base of the protrusions, and little pieces flaked off when the creature moved. What she could see of its skin was strange near the spikes, as if portions of it were warping into greater density. Some strands of bladed fur erupted from the center of full scales, splitting them in half.
It felt as if the guardian should have been in endless pain. Perhaps it simply hadn't noticed. Or it felt every last bit of agony, and was just waiting for a chance to take it out on the world.
You could see a bulldog's soul in its eyes, if you looked closely enough. Within the half-blood red of the guardian's orbs...
Was it possible to interpret its presence as duty? The fact that it could respond in certain ways as a sign of intelligence? Perhaps -- if that had been the way she'd wanted to perceive it, almost longed to do so. But no matter how much she tried to lie to herself, all she saw was rage.
Several ponies gasped, but none of those who were carrying the sigils dropped the protection. She heard Fluttershy's half-repressed sob, followed by scenting the first of the tears. And Cerea knew that no matter what happened, there was no point in asking them to name the guardian. The thoughts cascading through her meant the disc would only ever render a single word.
Pinkie was just barely comprehensible. Earth ponies became used to speaking with things in their mouths, but the mare's jaw was tight.
"Okay, everypony," she slowly offered. "Follow my lead. Inhale. Exhale..."
It was staring down at them. At the sigils. Drool fell, splashed. Some of it ran through the thin grooves which had been carved into the stone floor, at the bottom of a dome which was nearly the size of a hill.
Twilight breathed. Under the circumstances, Cerea felt it was one of the most courageous things she'd ever heard anyone do.
Hand away from the hilt.
Away from the hilt.
She still couldn't find the source of the light: something which had too many blues and quite a few reds and rather too much blood. But she understood why it existed. There was light because something wanted them to see all of it.
"Applejack," the alicorn slowly began, "Pinkie. I see the torch mounts." Her tail accordingly flicked twice, and her voice took on the cadence of a lecture. Tones which offered control, and a scent which said it was a defense mechanism. One which was trying not to collapse. "He's responding to the sigils: he knows what comes next. Move there, place and light. We'll start on the rest. And stay away from the foam. If it splashes on you, snort your nostrils clear and rinse out your mouth immediately. Then move directly towards me, and I'll give you the antidote."
The earth ponies moved as they'd been directed, limbs pushing forward under the hydraulic power of stress. Fluttershy took a trembling step forward.
"...Cerberus?" A plea, and something very much like a prayer.
I knew it.
I wish I'd been wrong.
Six red eyes refused to directly acknowledge the speaker. The growl found a way to become louder.
"...he won't listen," the pegasus whispered. "I can't talk to him any more. I could barely do it before, but there was enough canine for me to get through, just a little. To see that he was a good boy..."
"He hears you," Twilight quietly said. "He just doesn't care any more. Not on this side of the screen. Not when he's... back in his yard. Just let us work, Fluttershy. It has to be fast. Cerea --"
The centaur had just noticed the collars. There were three of them. The sharp cones rubbed against each other. She was almost entirely sure that the cones were growing out of the skin. The collars, however, seemed to be leather. Or perhaps the skin was simply thick and brown and dead.
Wildly, Heracles was the worst student ever.
This thing didn't even stay captured.
Her mind kept spinning.
...no, there's competing versions of the myth. Twelfth labor, and then it was returned to the underworld.
Or it escaped.
Or, looking at this one, it ate Heracles. And most of Tiryns. Marketplace for an appetizer, amphitheater for dessert.
I hope it chomped Eurystheus first.
"-- Cerea?"
The centaur forced herself to look at the alicorn.
"The entrance is behind him," Twilight said. "Don't try to look for it just yet. Don't move towards him, or try to get around. Wait until we're done. And don't advance until I tell you. When you do, stick to the curve of the wall. Exactly to it."
She managed the nod, and the alicorn's horn ignited.
There was no reason to hold back any more. Magic was going to be used in the ritual: magic could speed up the rate at which the ritual was conducted. If there was a beacon, then they were already in the process of lighting it. Given that, they might as well burn every lumen available.
Trixie forced herself to move. The guardian watched her with two of its eyes: the others were tracking the earth ponies, watching the new flames dance. Firelight traveled up the walls, ascending further than it ever should have reached -- but none of the colors were right, and the heat seemed to have vanished.
The guardian watched as Trixie's horn ignited, the field advancing up its length in stuttering stages. Then the center head looked at Spike.
It kept looking. One of the side heads briefly pivoted to join in.
The little dragon was moving with something of a waddle: another incongruity, just as much as the hat. It was the way the insulating layers had half-bound his legs. There was something almost comedic about it. But the guardian was staring as if it had just found the greatest threat...
Spike's nostrils flared. The guardian growled.
Both earth ponies were on the way back now. Trixie and Twilight were extracting more wrapped items from their saddlebags. Careful shifts of light exposed the contents, let the scents flow...
There were bundles of dirt. Waxy paper came away, and raw meat which smelled like no animal in the world, something which almost scented as pure, released the first drops of blood onto the ground.
The growl turned into a rumble. And when the canteens were opened, when the rich rust and iron of the freshest blood filled the dome... that was when the drool truly began to flow.
Each sigil bore the scent of blood and soil. It was the promise of more to come.
Several thick clumps of dirt were soaked in the blood. Unicorn fields worked the mix, made sure it would hold together, and then the earth ponies kicked it towards the guardian's mouth.
It snatched every clump from the air. Swallowed, and the rumble increased.
"The temp..." Trixie trembled. "The temporary, in exchange for the transient. The... the true gift is what we bring, not the one who passes. The one who shall be allowed to pass." A canteen was levitated, tipped itself over the thin channels. Blood began to flow through the carved design. "To enter of her own will, to depart of her own desire..."
"We bring," Twilight added, and the meat was twisted, rendered. "We offer. We exchange."
Two steps forward. Her forehooves touched a pair of tiny divots in the stone, and the flowing blood began to glow.
The guardian's eyes narrowed, all six at once. And from more than twice Cerea's height, the heads lunged. Came forward like a mountain collapsing, trying for the meat, for what was behind it and who, almost nopony would be able to move in time, Fluttershy was calling out in six non-languages at once, Rainbow's wings were already at full span but it wasn't going to be enough, her hand was going for the sword and --
"THERE IS A BARGAIN!"
Half of the punctuation had come from the shout. The rest came from Trixie's metal-clad forehooves crashing back onto stone.
The guardian stopped. A furious gaze tried to meet all six eyes at once: the unicorn decided to help her own cause by rearing up again.
"A bargain, by blood and soil!" It was, all things considered, a rather theatrical declaration. "As we are bound, so are you! Do you remember what happens when the bargain is broken?"
Two giant pieces of scab fell. One from each bone spur.
The guardian stopped moving. Rainbow's wings took considerably more time to refold, and the scent of building ions never fully went away.
"By blood and soil," Twilight exhaled. "We offer. You obey..."
It was eating.
The amount of red-dripping mass which had been liberated from the palace's meat station was far too small to ever satisfy the guardian. They'd barely been carrying enough for a Great Dane. But a five-meter monster was rolling every tiny piece around a mouth. Making sure it touched every part of the giant tongue. Then it passed the meat to another mouth.
"Real food," Twilight shakily said. "He... doesn't need it. And if he goes through the screen, he doesn't really look for it. But in here... it has power."
Rainbow, near the center of the reassembled pony line, was watching the process.
"Poison," the sleek mare said. "He didn't have that drool when he was in Ponyville --"
"The screen again," the alicorn lectured. "And... it's why he's a threat to everything in there. We have an antidote." She took a slow breath. "It took centuries, but... we have one. They don't. He's a lot smaller than so much of what's down there -- but nopony's ever found anything he can't get his fangs into. Any creature which isn't vulnerable to that poison. The poison is what lets him stop them. But it doesn't keep for more than a minute, if you take it away from here. We can't ever use it. So it's him. It's always been him..."
The third head swallowed. Carefully nipped down, and teeth four times the size of what it was consuming gathered in the next piece.
It stood. Bowed legs straightened, as much as they ever could. The back end raised up from the stone.
There was... a crack in the wall behind the guardian. Something jagged, uneven, several meters across. Two thinner gaps, just barely perceptible as a split from the central wound, ran up the wall.
It was easier to see where the main break was. Several lines of the dark stains which were running down the stone had that as their origin point. A few had pieces of long-dried sundered tissue clinging to the crack.
"He's accepted it," Twilight told them. "Cerea..." This time, it was the alicorn who swallowed. "Whenever you're ready. It'll open when you approach. And the threshold is the true entrance, so... everything will take effect as soon as you cross. Just remember -- you have to test the sword before you fully commit. We have to be sure. And if it doesn't work..."
The girl had her orders.
Remove a gauntlet. Reach a bare hand towards the side of the passage. Don't touch it...
It meant she needed both hands.
"We're gonna be in the access cave," Applejack assured her. "Close enough t' hear, if'fin y'set the whistle off. An' close enough t' hear when y'come out." Nodded to herself, and then moved back slightly. Shifting to the left.
"You will come out." There was something solid at the core of Rarity's tones. Silk wrapped around steel. "Tell yourself that, in every moment when thought can be spared. That you will come out."
"I'm sorry," was Pinkie's contribution, and the right forehoof rubbed at the floor. "I don't even know why. Maybe just that anyone has to go in there, when they don't deserve to. But I'm sorry..."
"Bring back a story." There was something lurking at the back of Trixie's voice, and it was almost like a laugh. "This could make for a decent story."
"Which I write down!" Rainbow huffed. "...yeah. Just..." Wings unfurled, refolded. "...don't take too long. Because once you're out, I can probably take off. And we can all stop worrying about whatever. And stuff."
Spike stared up at her.
"Is there anything you need?" the young voice tremulously asked. "Or want? Something you just thought of? While there's still a chance?"
I want to go home.
The girl shook her head. Her right hand began to move towards her face --
"...Applejack."
A little too casually, "'Shy?"
"...I know you're moving behind me."
"An'?"
"...I know you're getting in position to clamp my tail," the pegasus said. "Because you think I'm going to try for the entrance, as soon as it's open. To follow her in."
Almost innocently, "Is that what y'think?"
Fluttershy's eyes slowly closed.
"...I'm not going to do that." Which was followed by the softest sigh Cerea had ever just barely heard. "I don't have very much magic. Not... the usual kind. But I have enough. And I'm not immune. Only... only she is. I can't pretend that he won't drain me, if he's capable. Not because I'm angry or trying to move too fast or because I'm doing it for someone else. He can. He will."
Wings loosened, and feathers sagged onto stone.
The guardian chewed. It was surprisingly loud, for such small morsels.
"...all I can do," Fluttershy finished, "is make things worse. So I'm not going to follow her. You can stay there if you want, if you don't believe me. But... all I can do now is the same thing I've done for moons. I can wait..."
The old hat barely shifted across the full nod. (Ear pressure was good for that.) And then they were all looking at Cerea.
Looking at the girl, with ears rotated forward. Waiting for words, in the last moments when she would be understood.
But there was nothing she could have ever said. Nothing which she wanted to hear.
I want to go home.
Her hand came up, grasped and carefully pulled. Silver wires parted from her face. One ear flexed a few times, as if trying to shed residual stiffness, and then she bent just enough to hold out the disc on a level where the ponies could reach it. Pinkie's lips carefully took custody.
The girl's arm was raised again. Hairpins came out, one after the other, went into a little bag on her upper waist. A long blonde fall went across her eyes, and she quickly brushed it back.
The helmet...
She had been carrying it for hours. Kilometers. Refusing to put it on. But she would need both hands for the test.
Behind her, there was a rumble. A growl. Bitter poison splashed to the floor as the guardian lapped at the blood.
Nightwatch had pulled back...
I'll never see her again.
And if she didn't come out, the last way the Bearers would ever remember the girl was through bringing back the face of a monster.
Slowly, she raised the helmet. Held it over her head with one hand, gathered and tucked her hair with the other. The metal came down, clicked and locked into place.
She didn't let herself look at them, as her features (hideous to ponies, hideous to all) were blocked. Her eyes briefly closed as the visor began to approach their level, and she turned away without ever taking a final glance. Began to trot along the perimeter of the dome. And as she approached, the crack in the stone widened. Pieces of dried, dead skin and muscle fell away as the passage yawned open like a basalt mouth.
Perhaps the streaks and stains had come from a prisoner who'd tried to escape. They might have gotten just far enough to see the dome, because hope could be torment. And then the mouth would have bitten down.
The gap was large enough to let her pass now, and it became wider still as she crossed the last few meters. Moved through the shadow of the guardian's tail, and heard hairs like steel scrape against the helmet's crest.
There was light in the tunnel, of a sort. Some of it had reflected in from the dome, and the rest felt like a lie. Claiming that if she came in, light would be present for her...
She carefully removed the sword from its scabbard. Set it upon the ground, followed that with the bag of hairpins, and kicked them both across the threshold. The sword skittered somewhat as it slid across the stone.
The girl followed. And at the instant she began to cross, there was a brief sensation of intense chill, deep within her skull. As if fingers sending up the false steam of evaporating liquid nitrogen had just lightly stroked the surface of her brain.
It might have stopped her. But she had to catch up to the sword, and that meant she needed to hurry. Bend her foreknees, dip, scoop --
-- she could, if she tried, pick up hints of the natural sounds which lurked beneath the translations of the disc. It generally wasn't enough to let her learn individual voices, not without a lot of exposure: Nightwatch was likely the only pony whom she could readily distinguish in a crowd.
But she'd spent several hours with the Bearers. (She didn't understand exactly what they were, because 'an elite military unit' obviously wasn't it.) Long enough to tell her that the desperate whinny of alarm, something which found a way to fully carry across the chamber on a mere suggestion of volume, piercing the other sound to do so -- that could have belonged to only one mare.
Cerea grabbed the bag in one hand, the sword in the other, gripped, straightened, stood, and swung the blade towards where the other sound had come from. Straight up.
The ceiling halted its descent, and did so all at once. The grinding stopped.
"It'll start testing you at the moment you enter," the memory of a royal voice reminded her. "To find out how it can hurt you."
The descending stone wouldn't have crushed her: she was sure of that.
(Almost sure.)
But she had been lowering her body in order to recover the plastic. A lowered ceiling would prevent her from rising again. And she felt that the deep place very much wanted to know what it would feel like to make a centaur crawl.
It had tried its first test. She had managed hers. The sword could fight back -- to some extent.
The sword could do that. The wielder...
She turned, just enough for the briefest glimpse of the one who had called out. A featureless ridge of metal nodded towards Fluttershy, and then the centaur began to make her way down the passage.
The ceiling remained where it was, for the throat wished to swallow her. Behind her tail, the mouth started to close.
She was aware of that, could hear the lesser grinding, watch the light dim as the source was blocked. And she was trying to focus on nothing more than what lay ahead.
But a sapient's mind had a certain talent for self-distraction.
The girl's reading material had been varied. But she'd loved tales of adventure most of all, there were supposedly factors which united so many of them, older books had multiple chances to find their way into the gap -- and so she'd come to learn about The Hero's Journey. In Cerea's opinion, Mr. Campbell had been stretching for a few of his points, along with potentially having put a deliberate limit on his search for source material. It was a typical human thing: those who wanted to prove a point would only seek out that which agreed with them. The bane of scholarly works, politics, and social media.
But it could be argued that he'd found something. Survey the milieu of legend, and there had been times when she was able to perceive some of the same notes coming off different instruments.
A heroine was forced to leave their home.
Supernatural aid might be offered.
There could be a meeting with a goddess.
You withdrew from the community. Isolation.
Trials easily followed.
And after that...
They descend into the underworld.
That was what heroines did.
But she wasn't a true knight.
At most, she was someone who had taken on a job. (Another job, as she'd proven herself woefully, inevitably unsuitable for the first.) One where she was the only candidate to possess the crucial qualification, and that still wasn't enough to promise actual capabilities.
She had agreed to do a job. She'd just gone on shift.
She was within the deep place's translation effect now. Anyone below would be able to understand her. But the cry of alarm had arrived as a whinny, because the Bearers were without. Nothing she said to them would arrive as words.
And still... there was something you were supposed to say, when you were going on shift. Without insult, without rancor. In a way, she would be saying it simply so that there were words at all, before the last of the light was shut away.
It didn't even feel as if it would be vulgar, when you said it for the right reason. It was just... traditional.
So she said it.
"Okay, assholes," Cerea told the world entire as she descended into the dark. "I'll take it from here."
Stats
Page generated in 0.04 seconds
Total duration
1,042 users online
1,575,338 hits today, 2,054,621 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Yes. This was everything it should have been. No notes.
Beautiful
That ending is the perfect callback.
That last bit gave me extreme Die Hard vibes. Like our favorite Centaur, that cop was just a guy caught in a bad situation who did what he saw as his responsibility to his family and everyone else. Too bad she probably doesn't know the phrase "yippy kye yay motherfucker". Although, I have a feeling that when she finally confronts Tirek she's gonna have a few choice words herself before it all goes downhill. Hope you enjoy writing this as much as I enjoy reading it!
When this is all over, someone really needs to tie Cerea down so she can't get away, and spend a good long time explaining to her just how goddamn brave she's being on behalf of a country that barely deserves it.
Loved the last line of chapter Savage.
"I'm here to kick ass and take names since I'm OUT of bubblegum ..."
"Nothing to it but to do it ..."
(* Had one more but ... *)
Dang I got chills. Into hell we go!
Whoa.
On Hades doorsteps she goes, deep within the stuff where legend are forged.
Haha nice! I love the ending so much. Excellent chapter. Thank you Estee.
11102404
Ride now! Ride to ruin, and the world's ending!
Good Luck Tartarus…. You’re dealing with a girl who has tortured herself every waking moment.
Wonderful writing to prime us for what awaits!
Cera vs Tatrarus is going to be interesting...
Well, now we've seen what Cerberus is like in the 'Verse, when he's on duty.. and he's terrifying.
I wonder if Twilight's map shelf is widely available, or if it's a Rachette special.
Well, that sounds familiar.
As does that. Under happier circumstances, these two might have been able to bring each other's self-esteem out of the negatives.
Exquisite final line. And as you've noted elsewhere, katabasis is the perfect theme for entering 2022. (Well, it feels like it now. Let's hope that's not actually the case when looking back.) In any case, looking forward to more in the new year.
11102746
So, is Cerberus diminished while outside of Tartarus, or is the ritual what limit him?
Started reading three days ago and I'm all caught up now. Quite the ride so far. No matter what happens I cant seem to ever be able to get away from the horsewords, i'll leave this site for 6 months to a year and then come back to a story like this that just grabs me and keeps me here for a few months. The real treat was looking through the authors history and seeing stories I've read 6+ years ago and vividly remembering them [Naked Lunch was one of my favourite shorts on the site]. Looking forward to more but I get the feeling I'm arriving just before last call.
you know the worse result regardless of what happens to Cerea, would be to go through all this effort just to find out Tirek has nothing to do with what happening outside tartarous
Its 20/20 vision.
Time to Die Hard.
Ah, poor misguided Cerea. She still can't accept the the journey defines the hero and not the other way around. You aren't a hero and then go into the journey, it turns you into one. She is a hero for doing what she's doing, and nothing less than that.
Let's hope she can see that in the end
She's damn awesome.
But who is it that asks that question, even expressing the thought through architecture? Who is it that cares about Cerea and wants to get to know her better? Celestia claims it might be intelligent, at least intentional, but not conscious. It's not just a setting, it's a character too! This feels like one of those 'dungeon core' novels written from the perspective of a D&D game. Could be a lot of fun there, but maybe one genre crossover is enough.
Only because you don't appreciate armorsexuality: it's not metal-covered curves, it's metal curves. And how did our apprentice smith end up solving the cleavage conundrum anyway?
Me either, Cerea. Why did Twilight sniff her skirt? Missing something here.
I loled, right along with Rainow and Pinkie.
Why the dirt? Who's pure-scented meat was that? All this blood and soil and bargains has mystical Earth Pony overtones, I wonder what AJ thinks and feels about it? Has she shared The Secret with the Blue Braggart and Spike, or is that only for real Bearers?
Perfect end to Act II
Okay, finally, they actually got to the place. This story has really been dragging lately, hope it picks up from here :P
This has even more disturbing implications when you wonder who or what created that place.
And is no one else going to point out the glorious callback to Lurid? (To be fair, it took me a minute to find the chapter... There were a few to sift through.)
Judging by the lack of comments on it, either this chapter did not confirm Twilight/Trixie, or that ship was confirmed a while ago and I’m just inattentive.
11104266
maybe not in this fic? I.'m not familiar with Tryptich universe
Imposing, fetid, demoralizing, corpulent, vesicant.
I really do not like this Tartarus -- excellent
11102634
At this point, she's essentially resigned from the support/protection of Equestria. Leaving the active xenophobia behind doesn't remove it. There are factions who would likely target her after she leaves, and considering that they've said that Equestria is one of the first to handle world ending threats, something tells me she will still end up under observation, but missing the current protections afforded.
Tartarus definitely has its work cut out.
I was reading this and had this playing in the background, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4F7sdy2rZws, it was an amazing sound track for Cerea entering the mouth.
Excellent chapter!
11103456
A Knight isn't made; a Knight becomes?
I like it.
And I guess in that sense, Cerea's technically right. She's not a Knight yet only because she hasn't completely her knightly journey. But she's embarking on it, so she's absolutely wrong about her impending worthiness.
I have a theory about what's going on, one that just recently occurred to me. I'm guessing that Tirek kept back a little magic (perhaps some of the power of the dead, which Discord was unable to restore to those who were no longer alive to receive it) and he's been trying to use it to open a new pathway into and out of Tartarus, one that will let him get out without having to get past the guardian. His first attempt was the working that brought Cerea to Menajeria: instead of opening a passage between Tartarus and Menajeria he accidentally opened a passage between Earth and Menajeria, and since he wasn't on Earth it opened in front of the closest thing it could find to him- another centaur carrying a magic-destroying weapon. That's why the signature resembled a mudslide, because it was opened through the stolen power of dozens if not hundreds of different ponies. His second (or possibly third or fourth or fifth) try almost worked, opening a pinprick hole out of Tartarus. Not big enough for him to escape through, but enough to let Tartarus start to bleed into the real world, without the screen's magic to regulate the interface and keep it contained.
So that's my theory. Now to see if I'm right...
I've gotta say, you've mastered the art of last lines. Each and every chapter ends with a line that just... hits. I don't really know how to describe it, but it has a weight to it, and I feel it every time I reach the end of a chapter.
Surreal:
"Their ears had gone back against her skull:"
"Their ears had gone back against their skulls:"?
Savage:
"It's a better term than for what I was going to do"
...Did something go wrong with the wording there? I'm having some trouble parsing it.
"at least, for those which nature was still digging itself out."
"at least, for those which nature was still digging out."?
"Wrapping were removed and when it came"
"Wrappings were removed and when it came"?
"hadn't been able to get so much the faintest whiff from"
"hadn't been able to get so much as the faintest whiff from"?
"There was lurking at the back of Trixie's voice, and it was almost like a laugh."
"There was something lurking at the back of Trixie's voice, and it was almost like a laugh."?
"The girl had her orders.
Remove a gauntlet. Reach a bare hand towards the side of the passage. Don't touch it...
It meant she needed both hands."
That action doesn't seem to have come up? Am I missing something?
Took me a bit to get through my queue to this, but thank you for writing!
11105517
Problem is, there is no magic in Tartarus.
I got a theory too with the little holes they discovered in the ground back at the site where the carriage encountered the magic null zone.
Plunderseeds!
I don't think the whole Plunder seeds event, with the black thorny vines and roots even happened in the Tryptich U (It's a bit confusing to know which episodes happened and which didn't...). In fact, I think it was mentioned that they still have the Elements of Harmony (the trinkets) around and never had to sacrifice them to save the tree. I don't think the Tryptich Universe is even AWARE of the tree existence besides MAYBE Celestia, Luna and perhaps a few people in case of emergencies and even then I have my doubts.
And, in the Tryptich universe, Twilight tree house never got completely destroyed by Tirek and was in the process of being repaired by a team of Earth Pony magic following Tirek attack. They never had to go to the tree of Harmony and open the treasure box because they haven't found the keys either.
The magical vines and roots were designed to steal the tree of harmony magic, so them being re-purposed to steal magic across Equestria sound plausible to me. All those little holes? It's the vines pushing through the ground to attack magical sources it detect.
Ok, my theory is full of holes, it doesn't explain how that one Pegasus messenger flew into that null zone in the sky quite a few chapters back or why only a few attack in random places seem to happens or that the vines aren't everywhere and attacking the Tree of Harmony... but I have a lovely mental picture of the seeds growing out of Tirek body down in Tartarus, adding a new torment to him.
I know my theory has no foundation but a few holes in the ground but it's all I have.
That or Cozy Glow is behind all of this and it's all results of her attempt at freeing Tirek.
11103673
The meat smells both "pure" and "alien" to Cerea for two distinct, separate reasons. It smells pure because Equestria lacks the chemical pollutants of Earth - there no growth hormones, no artificial feed, no passive absorption of gasoline fumes and fertilizer... this is 110% Organic Meat, something completely out of Cerea's experience. Secondly, it smells alien to her because meat in Menajeria is taken from the local monsters, because they're not sapient. Cerea is used to the smell of fish, pork, beef, lamb, chicken, game... this is meat from a species she's never encountered before.
("Okay, assholes," Cerea told the world entire as she descended into the dark. "I'll take it from here.")
- Now that, was a tight callback!
Reference to Inferno, thoughtful, and I half expected Orpheus' method
What a phrase to say when descending into hell.
Symbolic because the guard would say it going into a prison under Canterlot. Fun, love it, battle cry.
11217628
Probably one of the best I've read lol
somehow this reminded me of a scene in a sometimes silly and sometime serious manga, "yu yu hakusho":
the main characters were trying to get into a demon's lair.
the demon had set up one entrance so that the ceiling would come down, everyone would have to work together, to hold it up, and the only way to get through was to LEAVE THE OTHERS TO DIE.
"that's why we call it "betrayer's gate."
they DID manage to out-smart it, but i forget the details.
it was still quite tense, half the team expected to be betrayed by the one who ran forward...
Awesome callback, and an amazing one-liner!