The Pillars of Equestria: The Temple of Enyalius

by Wise Cracker

The Riddled Maze

“For this first challenge I’ll need three ponies. Who among you is the fastest in body and mind? Who can make a decision when time is of the essence? Which of you has the steely resolve to decide in a crisis?”

“That’s it?” Flash Magnus asked. “Easy: me, Somnanbula, and Meadowbrook.”

“What?” Star Swirl spat. “This is no time for frivolity, Flash. We need to think this through.”

“I reckon he just did,” Meadowbrook said. “Ain’t no one among us a faster dasher than Flash Magnus, on the ground or in the air. Nopony can beat Somnanbula in a battle of wits save yourself, Star Swirl. As for me, well...”

“A healer proves herself in times of emergency, and you have proven your worth often enough to be fit for this,” Stygian said. “The spirit asked for three qualities, and each of you possesses all three to some extent.”

“Yes… that did almost sound like he was trying to start an argument.” Star Swirl stroked his beard. “Perhaps the spirit is trying to sow some sort of… what’s the word?”

“Disagreement?”

“Yes, that. Very well, if we are in accord: spirit!” Star Swirl called out. “We have chosen our champions!”

“And we ours!” called the other Star Swirl.

“Excellent,” said the spirit as the six ponies stepped forward. “Let’s begin.”

---

Somnanbula blinked, and her vision filled with stars before she found herself flanked by walls.

“The game is ahoof, it seems,” she said. “Where are we?”

Looking up, she saw what looked like a glass ceiling, higher than the sky, where her companions were looking down from, enlarged as if peering through a lens. The snakes in the spirit’s grasp were not amused.

“Why would you want to play a ridiculousss game?” Ouro asked, her voice carried through magic. “Let’s be done with it already!”

“I agree, sister,” Boros replied. “This is mossst unbecoming.”

“Serves you right for being so boring,” said the spirit. “Pay attention, snakes, and you might learn something. Now, little ponies, the object of this game is… well, written on the walls, really. You are currently in a labyrinth, one of many in this temple. Find the answer to the clues and you are free to go.”

Somnanbula looked at her paler self, and flapped her wings, before looking up curiously.

“Oh, of course you’re allowed to fly,” said the spirit. “Though that does put the healers at a minor disadvantage, doesn’t it?”

“Let’s see about findin’ them clues first,” said Meadowbrook. “We only just got here, after all, there’s no rush.”

Somnanbula cleared her throat. “My friend, do not utter such words where the spirit can hear. You might not like him obliging you.”

The spirit chuckled. “Please, what do you take me for? I’m here to be entertained. I’d never stoop to something so predictable as adding a time constraint just because you mentioned it.”

Flash Magnus dashed on ahead, his more heavily armoured counterpart in tow. “Here’s a riddle, inscribed on the wall. That’s your department, Somnanbula.”

Somnanbula smiled as she approached the placard, with her alternate self beside her.

“I shield your soul, but not your heart. Jester and king, I bind,” she started.

“Beware of where you hold me, though, or your eyes, too, I blind,” said the lighter mare.

“Well that’s just downright unhelpful,” said Tumbleweed. “Kings and jesters ain’t got any bindings.”

Somnanbula tapped her chin, thinking.

“The answer is obvious, is it not?” said the other Somnanbula. “It is duty. Duty binds everyone, and those who hold it too highly are blinded by it.”

Flash Magnus nodded. “I have to admit, that sounds pretty plausible.”

Sir Flash smiled. “Smartest mare to come out of New Gallopsandria.”

Somnanbula’s ears perked. “New Gallopsandria? As in, the Library of Gallopsandria?”

“The one we rebuilt in Equestria, of course,” said the other Somnanbula. “Prince Hisan wrote a letter of recommendation after I saved him, and the bardic college was very welcoming. Why do you ask?”

“No real reason,” she lied. “It strikes me as too easy, is all.”

“Now that you mention it, it is an easy one. Every bard worth her strings would know that answer. And it elicited no response. So if duty is not the answer, what is, in your opinion? Please, I’m very curious to know what your insights are in this.”

“If we have the time, I will gladly compare notes with you.”

A dripping sound came from behind them. Then a groaning.

Somnanbula got the oddest sense of déjà vu, staring at a green slime coating the floor, oozing from cracks in the wall behind them. It moved towards them in an almost slithering fashion, as if there were an intelligence behind it.

Meadowbrook pulled her mask down. “I don’t suppose this is somethin’ y’all are familiar with?”

“No,” said Tumbleweed. “But I don’t like the feel of it.”

The green slime contracted and rose up into a solid oval mass of a body, forming a rudimentary mouth and folds where eyes might be.

“This is one of the other occupants of this temple,” said the spirit of Enyalius. “I suggest you don’t let him touch you; he is a hungry fellow, after all.”

“I thought you said there wouldn’t be a timetable?”

“I never said anything of the sort, Somnanbula. I said I wouldn’t be adding any time constraints. You are in his home, you woke him up, and I’m afraid he is quite beyond any control I can muster. Messy, too, as I’m sure you’ll notice. Never cleans up after himself, the slob.”

The thing gurgled and groaned at the ponies. Then it roared.

Somnanbula shuddered. She shouted at the two Earth ponies “Run! This is a trap for you!”

Meadowbrook turned, but the thing was on her before she could bolt. A tentacle wrapped around her hind hoof and stained her skirt, before dragging her towards its central mass.

For a moment, Somnanbula thought she’d see the other Meadowbrook toss a potion, or sprinkle some manner of magical pepper on the thing, as she’d seen her friend do so often. The Meadowbrook of the other world, though, had a more hooves-on approach to medicine, apparently.

“Let go!” she shouted, before tossing three needles at the thing. It looked like a pointless gesture, until she clapped her hooves. The needles started to vibrate, and the ooze quivered, losing pieces in the process. The green face, if slime could be said to have a face, curled up in fear before its whole mass shed the needles and backed away.

The mares needed no further encouragement. They galloped as fast as they could, while their Pegasus friends flew overhead.

“What do you mean, this trap was for us?” Tumbleweed called out.

“Standard sieving tactic,” Sir Flash explained. “You throw up an obstacle only part of the enemy can get through, like separating quick scouts from slow artillery wizards. Once separated, the two forces can’t compensate for each other’s weaknesses any more, and they can be defeated one by one. You two can’t fly, but we can.”

“Oh, well done!” The spirit chuckled throughout the maze. “You really did pick the smart ponies for this one. Out of curiosity, though: does it change anything about your predicament? Knowing what I’m trying to do?”

“Why, yes, an astute observation,” said Somnanbula. “That does help us solve the riddle of the maze.” She stopped once the coast looked clear, and the group caught their breath.

“How so?” asked the other Somnanbula.

“If the aim is to separate us from the Earth ponies, that means the Earth ponies are essential to solve the riddle. Tell me, what unique skills do you possess? What was that attack?”

The other Meadowbrook presented one of her front hooves, the same shade of blue as the original but a little more worn for wear. “Pretty standard needle technique, you can find it in any monastery. Clap your hooves right, they do a little shake, lets me concentrate my ki, basically.”

Somnanbula furrowed her brow. “Your… key, you say?”

“Yeah, you know, basic stuff. Usually I aim for pressure points, but I figure that thing was one giant pressure point as it is.”

“And you learned that in a monastery?” Meadowbrook asked. “You are a… mow-na-stairic pony, then?”

“A monk, yes. And not exactly, I’m not initiated-like into any real order, but I did learn under them. Star Swirl’s a much more dedicated monk than myself, he’s got real power. I just come from a family tradition.”

“Me too.” Meadowbrook took off her mask and showed it off. “My family was from the southern bank of the Ponos river originally, but we moved to the swamps here when I was little. Five generations of healers before that.”

“Five in mine as well. But we were from the northern bank, originally, and we moved to the dry plains.”

“The northern bank? The desolate side? But there weren’t no medicinal herbs that grew the-oh.” Meadowbrook, and the other ponies, all looked at the Earth pony’s bandages and needles. “That’s what you do: massage and pressure point healin’. Because you never had access to the healin’ herbs.”

“My family made do. Cacti and all. Hence the name: I’m pretty agile when I need to be.”

“And a right respectable do you made. Thanks for savin’ my hide back there.”

“Has anyone else noticed the thing is not actually chasing us?” Somnabula asked.

Gurgling sounds came from around the corner.

“Spoke too soon.”

“No, you have a good point. It’s not chasing us, I can see its tracks. It didn’t even take the same turn we did,” Flash said, flying up above the wall to see. “But uh, is it just me, or is that thing getting...”

The bard flew up to get the same vantage point. “Bigger?”

Somnanbula thought, then nodded. “Of course. Flash, we will need some swift scouting from you.”

He saluted. “What am I looking for?”

“More clues. One riddle will not be enough to figure out this maze, and it was given to us far too easily. Explore the edges, see what we have no time to and make note of what riddles you find.” She gestured to the bard. “We will fly ahead for the healers, try and plot a path out of danger.”

“On it.” With a firm flap of his wings, Flash was gone.

Somnanbula and the bard led the way for the Earth ponies, green ooze slowly creeping behind them, while the armoured Flash Magnus held the rear.

“Is your Flash Magnus not a scout?” Somnanbula asked.

“No, he mostly gets in between us and danger, he does not seek it out on his own.”

“My armour is too heavy for any fancy flying, but I can take a hit and dish it out,” said Sir Flash.

“Glad to hear it. We may have need of that soon. And that jeweled armour, is that, by any chance, Palomino Hill style?”

“You have a good eye for armour,” he said with a familiar smile.

“I have a good eye for history.” Somnanbula bit her lip.

Flash rejoined them, saluting as he flew alongside them. “I found another riddle. I protect coward and brave alike: the coward from his foes, and the brave from himself.”

“Again, easy: fear,” said the other Somnanbula. “Fear binds kings and jesters, it blinds us. Cowards hide in fear, while the brave stop themselves from doing anything foolish through fear.”

“Ladies, I don’t mean to alarm you, but we may have a problem,” the other Flash said, flying up higher above the walls. “I think I know why it’s not simply chasing us, and why it’s growing.”

“What is it?”

“There’s treasure chambers. Gold, gems, it’s consuming them one by one. That’s how it’s getting bigger. It’s not trying to chase us: it’s trying to fill the place up so we can’t flee.”

Somnanbula put a hoof to her forehead. “Think, think. Binds kings and jesters, protects the brave and cowards alike…” She looked up. “Treasure rooms, you say? I may have an answer, but we’ll need to find the right location. Flash, fly ahead, look for treasures. No gold or gems, but fabric: carpets, rugs.”

“What are you thinkin’?” asked Meadowbrook.

“I’m thinking the spirit tried to hoodwink my compatriot here by using riddles with a concept for a solution. It is not a concept we seek, but an object. And our friend over there is seeking the very same thing.”

Bubbling sounds came from the right corner, then the left.

“And he’s growing large enough to cut off our escape,” Sir Flash noted.

“No matter, as long as we find the item first.”

Flash Magnus came dashing back. “I’ve found it. One way in, one way out. Big pile of fancy robes, giant stack, and another riddle. What’s hard for stallions and soft for mares, made of wicker and straw or felt and fur?”

“That’s exactly it. Well done, Flash, lead the way.”

The ponies all galloped ahead, now finding themselves racing against the green tide.

“It’s gettin’ faster!” Meadowbrook called out, dodging a tentacle oozing from a nearby wall.

“It has more volume to eat with. We’re almost there!” Somnanbula could see the chamber at the end of the hallway. Behind them, though, the slime was catching up, emboldened by its feeding frenzy.

Sir Flash Magnus set down and spread his limbs at the entrance to the chamber. Somnanbula gasped as the silvery blue metal of his armour glowed gold, jewels sparked, and a giant bubble emerged from his chest, keeping the green ooze at bay in the bottleneck.

He gritted his teeth as he pushed back. “Go! I can hold him!”

“Do not harm him!” Somnanbula cried out, before turning to the pile. “He may not be in full control of himself.”

“I won’t. But begging your pardon, I’m not sure I could harm him if I wanted to.”

The other ponies fanned out into the chamber.

Flash was right: this was clearly where the thing kept all of its fabric treasures. Precious silk drapes, finely woven tapestries, wizard’s capes marked with sigils of distinction from centuries ago, all of it lay in a messy pile. This was the largest room they’d found so far, too, at least a hundred paces in all directions.

“What now?” Meadowbrook asked.

“Now you need to formulate a tracking potion. Do you have any of that goo still on you?”

“No, I wiped it off to be safe.”

“I’ve got some, it soaked my bandages,” the other Meadowbrook said. “Never drop a fresh sample.”

“Ah, I think I see what you mean to do.” The other Somnanbula grabbed her lute and started playing a quick tune, focusing her eyes on Flash Magnus. “I hope you don’t mind if I give your friend a little boost?”

“He’s gonna need it,” Meadowbrook said as she tossed some herbs together in a pestle and quickly mashed them up with her bare hooves, before pouring the contents into a glass vial and stoppering it. She pulled her mask down and uttered some words, then looked up while the vial started quaking. “I’m puttin’ a mighty bit o’ pepper in this one, Flash. If you want to chase it, you’re gonna have to be fast as lightnin’.”

The bard’s lute shimmered, and Flash’s wings quivered. “Err, I think I can manage that. But what am I looking for?”

Meadowbrook’s vial burst before either Pegasus mare could answer. Flash was, rather appropriately, gone in a flash, following a wisp of magical energy that hurtled itself into the pile. With the boost of bardic magic, Flash could easily track the thing, but once he hit the pile, he was out of sight.

There came a scraping noise from behind them. The other Flash was getting pushed back, slowly but surely, though his golden shield bubble remained pristine. “A little help here! I can’t hold him much longer!”

The other Somnanbula strummed her lute again, and let out what sounded like a lullaby.

Somnanbula herself stared in awe. A sleeping spell? From an instrument? Played by a… a Pegasus?

Such magic still exists?

The bubbling slowed for a moment, and Sir Flash breathed a sigh of relief, getting his grip back on the ground.

It did not last, though, presumably the big blob’s consciousness didn’t register sleep quite the same way as mere ponies did.

“Got it!”

Before anyone could blink, Flash Magnus had burst out of the pile with his prize. He gave it to Somnanbula, who calmly flew past the golden shield and deposited it on the green blob beyond.

“There we are, good sir: your hat.”

The answer, as Somnanbula had correctly surmised, was a hat. In this case it was a top hat, the sort worn by barons and rich creatures of all nations, and made by silly ponies, who often went a little mad from the fumes involved in the making of such things.

The green slime withdrew, and shrank. The jingling of coins filled the corridors of the labyrinth, emptied out now that the green thing calmed down.

“Oh, I get it now,” said Tumbleweed. “He’s a stress eater. He wasn’t angry; he was upset.”

“As well he would be, when he has visitors and cannot find his hat to greet with,” said Somnanbula. The thing before her looked quite harmless now, smiling through the folds of his mouth and squinting whatever passed for eyes. “I’m sure many creatures find him intimidating without it.”

The thing gurgled in agreement.

Somnanbula’s ears perked when she heard her Flash pat the other one on the shoulder.

“Quick thinking there,” he said.

The palomin chuckled. “It’s nothing, you would have done the same, I’m sure."

“If I could, maybe,” Flash replied, nodding.

“What do you mean, if? You never swore on the sacred shield?”

“What, this thing?” Flash Magnus showed his counterpart the golden shield he kept with him.

The armoured Pegasus gasped. “You… you carry the sacred shield Netitus around like it’s nothing?”

Flash shrugged. “I mean, it's fireproof and it works fine as a shield, what else am I supposed to do with it?”

Somnanbula forced out a smile. “Let us not concern ourselves with that now. We did find ourselves barging into this gentleooze’s home, after all.”

“Indeed,” said the bard. “We apologise for the inconvenience, and rest assured we think no less of you for the mess. It can’t be easy to keep things tidy for someone of your consistency, as well as wealth. Spirit! I believe we have completed your trial, no?”

“That you have, and how marvellously entertaining it was to watch. You can come back up now, and see how your friends fare in the next challenge.”

Author's Note:

At least part of the challenge was inspired by the Slime Boss in Slay the Spire. Other than that... did you know the term 'paladin' came from a hill in Rome? Me neither, until I looked it up a few years ago. Replacing the hill's name with Palomino Hill and naming the class palomins just made sense, and I've used it before, might as well toss it in here. Gallopsandria instead of Alexandria is a more recent one, and I'm not sure if it's been done already. Tumbleweed and Meadowbrook's different sides of the river is taken from how traditional Chinese medicine, allegedly, started. One school was focused on material components, the 'wet' side with the herbs and whatnot. The 'dry' side lacked such resources, and so it developed more into a massage and pressure point focus. Being from such different locations, the different names were necessary.

The first challenge was meant to show off how similar the ponies are, by taking the three whose counterparts are very similar. It also lets me introduce the reader to the class swapping concept by spelling out what classes these other Pillars are. What classes are the original Pillars, then? Err... that's where things get complicated.