Daring Do and the Iron Pyramid

by Unwhole Hole

Chapter 21: A Glorious Victory

The camp was rapidly transitioned to the new area and was fully assembled by nightfall. The majority of the archaeologists remained at the Pyramid, where they would work, but many had also come to witness the creature that Wun and Daring had captured. Not one of them addressed her, as they were all too afraid to draw close. There were only a few unicorns on the team, and not one of them even came to visit the new camp. They stayed far away, on the other side of the Pyramid. They were terrified on an instinctual level and did not know why.

The new camp was hastily constructed, and although orderly it was infinity more lively. Most of the griffons were rejoicing, many of them with their pupils wide and rolling and purring in piles of dried leaves while thestrals looked on laughing. With the tension broken between them, many of the thestrals had come out of hiding and, though subdued and weak, they at least stood in proximity to the foreigners in their presence—and, like the unicorns but to a lesser extent, invariably stayed away from Seht. They did not like her, or rather what she represented. Word was spreading quickly of what she had said, and the thestrals chose to reject it. After all, she was surely a liar, a dark oppressor-god now contained in powerful magic.

One tent close to the area housed Wun, the only unicorn who dared draw close, and Daring made her way through the dark to that particular tent. On the way, she was sure that she saw Honor in the arms of a young griffon, the latter with his eyes wide from excessive nip as he purred violently.

Entering the tent, Daring found her sister beside Caballeron, standing over a table. Geiger, the griffon logistician, was present. Dignity and Wisdom were also present.

“...yes, yes,” said Caballeron, smiling. “Indeed, your sister and I came to the exact same conclusion. I simply did first, when she was already engaged in battle, and came here to organize the extraction of the sarcophagus components. It was lucky she joined me when she did...is that not right, Geiger?”

The griffon smiled to the extent that a creature with a beak could smile—and it was a hollow, fake smile. The kind of someone who had recently gotten paid.

“Of course, sir.”

“And I had thought you were a coward,” mused Wun. Obviously she knew, but did not care because the outcome was the same regardless. Her head swiveled rapidly. “Daring, there you are. Thank you for assisting my little linguist in ameliorating this threat. You were indispensable. Father will be overjoyed to hear this story.”

Caballeron looked at Daring Do, smiling, although his brow was furrowed, wondering if she would challenge his account. Daring hated that look, and her dislike for him was only growing—and the fact that he was so handsome only made that feeling worse. But at this point, she did not care.

“We did what we had to.”

“For now,” said Dignity. “We have done well but this is not yet over.”

“What she says is true.” Wisdom stepped to the table, which held numerous maps and Geiger’s scratch-pad of calculations. It was apparent that Wisdom truly was the only member of his society that could read. “The question is what to do with it. I have a thought...but...”

“No,” said Dignity. “We are still ponies. We cannot destroy a life, even hers. Such a sacrifice is unforgivable.”

“Agreed,” sighed Wisdom. “Nor do I think we have a mechanism to do so. The ancestors could only contain them. Even our greatest weapons had no effect--”

“Because they weren’t yours,” said Daring Do. The room fell silent and they turned to her. She did not back down. “They were hers. The dark unicorns made them. That’s why she could turn off the armor.”

“Where our ancestors acquired them is not relevant. Because we may very well never need them again. We can return to our peaceful life soon enough, now that the threat is identified.” He looked to Wun. “Assuming it can be removed?”

Wun nodded, and turned to Geiger. “Can she be moved?”

Geiger looked at his charts. “If we can bring a cloudbreaker, yes, because we will need a heavy transport to get through. We can construct a frame to move the assembly, but it will take time. And we still have to account for the fact that she likely needs to eat, sleep, and...well...it would be cruel.”

“Cruelty is a concept devised by the weak to justify their whining,” snapped Wun.

“We cannot leave it here,” said Wisdom. “As long as it is conscious, we are in danger.”

“There is an alternative,” said Wun, smiling. “There exists a type of spell that can petrify a pony as a form of inert material. Stone, so to speak.”

“Can you cast such a spell?” asked Caballeron.

“No,” said Wun. “But I can always pay for somepony else to cast it. If she were rendered as stone, we could transport her as-is without the sarcophagus and maintain her until this Codex she spoke of can be recovered.”

“You want her as a statue?” asked Daring Do.

“No. That would be foolish. She will be alive. I will have a special room assembled to contain her. She will have a little bed, and a desk, and we shall feed her. And there shall be windows so I might view her.”

“As a pet.”

Wun’s head turned slowly. “As a guest, Daring. She is the very last of her kind, a being of incredible rarity. I feel a sense of kinship, I suppose, but I simply cannot allow this opportunity to pass me.”

“And the others?” asked Wisdom. "The rest of those foul beasts?"

Wun’s head turned back to him. “Will be collected, of course, and removed. Your ancient threat will be entirely extracted from the Pyramid, and the archeologists will finish their investigation at their leisure.”

“It will be a relief,” sighed Wisdom.

“If we can assume unicorn magic can, in fact, contain her,” said Dignity, staring at Wun.

“It is better than your current abilities,” replied Wun, smiling. “You could not stop her, or even slow her down. You only did so with my help. And your society will be fully extinct by the time I have my first gray hair, so I would not put much faith in your containing her for much longer."

“Do not insult us, unicorn--”

“She is not wrong,” admitted Wisdom.

“Wisdom...”

“If there’s a wizard being shipped in, we need to discuss logistics,” said Geiger. “We need to set up a contract for the perimeter defense group...”

“Of course,” said Wun. She looked over her shoulder. “Daring, this is the part you rather detest. Is there anything specific you wanted?”

Daring looked up at her sister, who seemed so happy but so strange in the pale light of the large tent. “Can I borrow your necklace?”

Caballeron nearly snorted. “You cannot just ask to borrow such a thing of value--”

Wun pulled the necklace from her neck and threw it to Daring Do. Daring caught it, immediately regretting touching it. It felt strange and grotesque. Warm, somehow, but at the same time so deathly cold. She could not believe that Wun had worn such a thing against her bare skin for so long. “Of course, dear sister.”

“Thanks.”

Daring Do put the large gemstone in her pocket, gave one last glare at Caballeron, and then left into the night.

Few ponies or griffons had bothered to approach the center of the camp, where Seht was held—and that was exactly where Daring Do went. She was expecting silence, but as she drew nearer, she heard speaking. One voice, a mechanically distorted one, belonged to Seht. The other was high and squeaky.

“And, and what did you eat?”

“A great many things. My favorite was cheese made from the milk of the greater centipedes. Eaten with the Singing Fruit, sliced but sometimes grated.”

“Why was it called Singing Fruit?” A high gasp. “Did it SING?”

“It did. A beautiful, happy song when it was ripe. When it became overripe, the song got so very somber.” A sigh. “But both that fruit and the centipedes are extinct now. I will never again taste them.”

“Oh.”

Daring Do peeked around one of the tents to see Curiosity sitting on the sand in front of Seht. She was the only one who had dared to get close, and she was staring wide-eyed at the massive masked pony trapped between the two magical blocks.

“And where did you come from?”

“Not just where I came from. Your kind came from the same place. We brought you here. There is no word for it in our language. It was called the Darklands in yours.”

“Wow, and where was that? Was it far away?”

“Very far away. South. But before that, we do not know.”

“Before? Where were you before?”

“As I said. That is unknown.”

“How?”

“Because those memories are too deep in the Codex. No mortal can survive accessing them. They are too far. Even Odin, the greatest of us, could not see any more than the word ‘Monoceron’. Doing so nearly slew him.”

“Then that must be where you’re from!”

“Perhaps.”

Daring Do approached, and Curiosity jumped up. “Miss Daring! You came to visit!”

“You’re...talking?”

Seht’s mechanical eyes shifted to Daring Do. “There is little else I can do. But I like talking. Telepathy is lonely. It always was. I am glad to speak to those who wish to hear.”

“Lady Seht says we used to be a priesthood! And there was a big city around here, all up in the mountains, with a big pyramid right in the middle! And there were plants, and they were so pretty, but they weren’t green because of rhod-op-sin! And some of the fruit could SING!”

“And you believe her?”

Curiosity frowned. “Of course I do. She knows everything, and she’s not scary like your big sister.” She looked around. “Don’t tell her that, though, Lady Wun made me a nice sweater, and I never had clothes before then because we don’t know how to make textiles. So some of us lose our wings during the winter because they freeze off. But mine won’t now!”

Daring sighed. “Curiosity, is it okay if I talk to Seht?”

“Don’t ask me, ask her!”

“Of course it is,” replied Seht. “The Codex demands I never sleep. And your sky...” She looked up, as did Daring, and saw a galaxy of stars painted across the black, centered around a moon with craters in the shape of a pony’s face in profile. “...it makes me sad. And afraid. To see that even that has changed while I slept.”

“Lady Seht said that if I use special words, I can make the armor fight without a pony even in it at all! So I’m going to go do that! I don’t sleep either because that’s when the rats eat little pieces of us, so if you need me, I’ll be over there learning new things and being awesome!”

Curiosity bounded off.

“I remember her eyes,” said Seht, after a long pause. “A dear friend of mine had the same eyes, long ago. I suppose she might be his descendant.” She sighed. “And I suppose I will never see him again. I had known that when I went to sleep. I had not fully grasped the sorrow it would bring me when I awoke.”

Daring Do watched Curiosity go. “Do you have a name?”

Seht paused. “If I ever did, it is of no consequence. Seht is adequate.”

“So it’s like a House?”

Seht paused again. “No. Seht is a pony. I am Seht now. But I was not always Seht. Seht was not always me. But you may think of it as a House or Line if you wish.”

Daring Do sat down in the sand where Curiosity had been sitting. The desert night was cold, and she shivered.

“Are you cold?” she asked.

“Does it matter?”

Daring frowned. “Of course it does.”

“Then no. This body does not feel hot or cold. Those nerve endings corroded long ago.”

“So then this isn’t your first body, is it?”

Seht sighed. “You ask so much harder questions than the child. Things that were simple then are so complicated now.”

“I’m just curious. Like her.” She looked at where Curiosity had gone. “Not as energetic, I guess...but...”

“Yes. I understand.”

“You do?”

“Your mind was closest to being worthy. I saw part of you. You saw part of me. Nearly proper communications, as I once used in simpler times. To you, I am an artifact which talks.”

“No, you’re a pony--”

“No. I am not. Not to you, and not even now. So long as I wear this mask, your mind will be able to justify your decisions. This is your role. To collect me.”

Daring Do sighed, almost mimicking the breathy sounds of sadness that constantly escaped Seht. “I’ve spent my whole life living in a giant mansion, hearing about the whole world and everything that ever happened in it. About all the amazing things my father had seen when he was young.”

“And yet all you ever do is follow your sister, who would rather put the products of that world on a shelf and dwell in the stories. That is the life you have chosen to live.”

“I never made that choice.”

“Then perhaps you have time.”

Daring looked up. “Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of evil, dark pharaoh? And you’re giving me life advice?”

“I have the combined memories of thousands of incarnations of Seht compressed into my mind. And I resent that you consider me evil. I am not.”

“Then what are you.”

“I am Seht.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I am a Codex Interface. I hold the right of direct administrative access to the Codex. It requires specific genetic markers and magical parameters to be able to withstand the synchronization.”

“You said ‘librarian’.”

“Or ‘library’. Both words are equally appropriate.”

Daring Do nodded. “You came from the south. Why?”

Seht tilted her head slightly, amused by the question. “The destruction of early technology left a power vacuum to the north. We were colonists.”

“I’m familiar with history. That word, in our language, tends to mean ‘conqueror’.”

“There was nothing to conquer. Earth ponies had barely discovered the wooden plow, and the other races of unicorns lived in isolation. They were considered a myth. Your own kind were primitive tribals. This land was not heavily inhabited. Duat was placed south to the kingdom of the sphinxes. They are now extinct too. They were beloved to Baset, but unfriendly. Unfriendly and weak.”

“Duat?”

Seht pointed toward the pyramid, a spire of black in the distance against the moonlit desert. “Duat.”

Daring Do nodded, although she did not quite understand how something that large made of solid iron had gotten this far. She got the impression it was not made here, but in the Darklands, but how it had moved was beyond her. She supposed by magic.

“But something happened,” she said, softly. She looked up at Seht. “You were in a sarcophagus. And there were only eight others.”

Seht once again did not respond.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine--”

“No. I am trying to think of a way to phrase it. How hard it is to explain the fall of a civilization in so few words. To convey the sadness. The profundity of the loss.”

“What happened?”

“One day, the sun rose.”

Daring Do frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“The world underwent vast climatic change. Entire phyla became extinct in a matter of months. The ecological order of the world was torn asunder.”

“And you couldn’t adapt.”

“We tried. In Duat, we were far enough that the sun was still dim here. We built armor, enclosed ourselves away. In other colonies, they did other things. Asgard, Olympus, Dingir, they all chose their paths.” She paused. “But it was not enough. An unknown pathogen began to circulate through our population. Before we fully understood it, we were all infected. And it rendered each of us sterile.”

“That’s...it?”

Seht’s head turned suddenly. “ ‘It’. How dismissive. To live in a world with no foals. To stare at your friends and family, to watch them wither and age, to know that there will be no more after them. To watch time strangle your civilization. Can you comprehend such a thing, Daring Do? The sadness of it?”

Daring Do looked at the ground. “No. I can’t.”

“I can. Because I was there.” She looked out at the Pyramid. “We were farther, infected later. The colonies were transitioned to research stations. To use the resources available in Equestria to create a cure.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No. But at Duat, we found ways that we could vastly extend the age of an existing pony.” She paused. “But every time we tried to make a new one...we failed. The results were monstrous.”

Daring Do shivered, recalling the room of strange and mutated bones. Some that had clearly not been pureblood dark unicorns. “How old are you?”

“I no longer recall. But as the Codex Interface, I am a unique case.”

“You were sealed for over six thousand years. Why?" Daring paused, thinking. "Were...you waiting for a cure?”

“We lasted longer than the other colonies. Far longer. But we lost contact with the Darklands. We believed ourselves to be the last. Our lifespans, though extended, were not infinite. So, yes. We designed a system to sustain us in a sub-living state. I call it sleep. Otherwise, I would be driven mad by the implications of it.”

“We woke you up.”

“Which was not the plan."

"We woke you up too early."

"No. Far too late. We were supposed to only be dormant for a century or two. The thestrals would take control of our colony. The pathogen did not affect them, or the quagga. We assumed—hoped—that a unicorn somewhere would devise the cure. Or even the thestrals when they inevitably became advanced enough.”

“There’s still time! We still have magic, and a lot of it. There are all sorts of wizards and sorcerers in Canterlot. We even have alicorns now!” Daring Do stood up. “We can still find a cure—”

“No. I have reviewed your existing knowledge concerning magic. It is now even more primitive than when my ancestors first encountered the other unicorn races. No advancement has been made, and so much has been lost. Magic is dying in the world, as technology did before it. The world has simply moved on, and the dark unicorns no longer have a place in it.”

“Well, aren’t you a pessimist.”

“Daring. My entire civilization is gone. I think I have the right to feel sad.”

“Oh.” Daring took a step back. “Sorry.”

“It is not a problem. But...thank you for listening. I could not say such things to the child. She is so innocent and squeaky. But you, perhaps, can remain to comprehend my words. Depending on the path you choose, that burden may fall on you many more times subsequent. To have listened. To have known what others refused to hear.”

Daring Do was silent for a moment. “The others. Your friends. Can they wake up too?”

“The process was successful in several five-year tests. We have exceeded that by several orders of magnitude. In theory, yes. Although their coils were in poor condition. Cellular integrity should not matter though. However, I noticed that their phylacteries were missing. I had assumed the thestrals had taken them for safekeeping.”

Daring Do froze. Her whole body felt cold.

“Phylacteries?”

“They would resemble large octahedral crystals. They were intended to preserve our souls so they would be protected from the degradation of our bodies over time.”

Daring Do, shaking, took a deep breath and reached into her pocket. She produced Wun’s cut gem, the chain still attached to it.

When Seht saw it, she recoiled in horror, taking a step back. As she did, the surface of her mask changed, the invisible seams between its components separating. It folded back on itself, shell after shell retracting by unseen mechanisms until it had apparently vanished into a draped collar. Daring Do was surprised to see her face. Despite her size, she was young, or at least looked it. Her mane was enormous and silky black, and her horn was red and bladed. Her snout was plated with something that looked like metal.

It was her eyes, though, that terrified Daring Do the most. Not because they irises were deep red, or how the schlera had a strange greenish cast—but because they were so wide with Seht’s own horror. And Daring Do understood. Without the mask, it was no longer possible for her mind to think of her as a faceless monster. She was a pony.

“What—what have you done?” she said, softly, her eyes locked on the gemstone.

“They were looted thousands of years ago. Ponies thought they were jewels, they...they...” She did not need to finish the statement. Seht’s legs shook, and she crumpled to the ground, tears streaming down her face.

“Seht?”

“He had a name.”

Daring Do felt her whole body starting to shake. She hated holding it, the feeling of warmth and coldness at once against her hoof—as if it were alive. Or as if it still remembered a time when it had been.

Seht continued. “He was Sobek. Of all of them, you had to bring me him.”

“You...knew him.”

Seht looked up, her red eyes meeting Darning Do’s. “I loved him.”

Daring Do felt herself on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry...”

Seht, shaking, looked down at the sand. “I...I loved him, but I never told him. I had convinced myself it was unfair. That when we awoke and the plague over, I would tell him then. But now...” She lowered her head against the sand, quietly covering it with her hooves. “Now I will never have the chance.”

Daring Do looked at the stone, at the glow that came from it. “We might still be able--”

“Do you have any comprehension of what you have done?!” screamed Seht, suddenly lifting her head. “You cut down their very souls! Tore them apart, ripped them to tatters to make JEWELRY! Can you not comprehend the eternal agony of it?! To exist forever unwhole and broken?!”

“There has to be some way to fix it, we have to--”

“There is nothing that can be done! It cannot be reversed! My friends—my friends are all—”

She lowered her head and began to uncontrollably sob.

“Seht--”

“I had been able to withstand it,” she said through her tears. “That when I awoke cold and alone. When your kind attacked me unprovoked. I withstood this unfamiliar and alien world, and I accepted that my civilization and everything we created and everything we loved was gone now. That everything had failed. I withstood that in your society I am property, meant to be bought and sold and bred at the behest of my owners. But I held out hope that I would not be alone...but now I am. Now I am the last.” She lifted her head slightly. “Is...is the only reason I am here because of a fleck of oxidation? Because my stone’s release mechanism jammed? Why could I not be taken with them, so I would not have to wake into this world of cruelty?”

“We didn’t know!”

Seht looked up. Not angry, but utterly defeated. Somehow, that was worse. “Nor did you make the cuts, ignoring their screams. And yet I am still alone.” She stood, and something about her aspect changed. Her eyes seemed to grow darker, and all the sorrow on her face seemed to leave her. The mask began to extend from her collar, resuming its place around her face.

“I suppose,” she said, her voice once again mechanical and distorted. “That none of this was your fault, specifically.”

Daring Do looked down at the carved gemstone in her hoof. “No,” she said. “But this is wrong. This is all wrong.”

“As I have said. There is nothing you can do.”

“Not to save your friends. But I can make sure it never happens again.”

“Then leave this place. Because I have one task remaining assigned to me. And I do not know if I have the heart to accomplish it.”

“What?”

Seht said nothing. She stood stationary and silent. The conversation had ended.

Comments

[ponepony]

“Do you have any comprehension of what you have done?!” screamed Seht, suddenly lifting her head. “You cut down their very souls! Tore them apart, ripped them to tatters to make JEWELRY! Can you not comprehend the eternal agony of it?! To exist forever unwhole and broken?!”

That actually sounds really interesting.

[Thought Prism]

Oh, holy shit. Also:

“But it was not enough. An unknown pathogen began to circulate through our population. Before we fully understood it, we were all infected. And it rendered each of us sterile.”

Is this what I think it is?

[SQA]

I gotta say I was not expecting the horrific nightmares to be witnessing the true death of a race and civilization while grappling with the fact that your kind did something unspeakable in the name of something utterly vapid. Good stuff!

[alamais]

we don’t know how to make textiles. So some of us lose our wings during the winter because they freeze off.

I don’t sleep either because that’s when the rats eat little pieces of us