Category 4 - 130-156 mph
I checked the compass again. “Okay, this looks like it’s the most westerly point around the city,” I said. I marked the spot with my hoof. Ruby came over with the shovel and started digging, wiggling the blade into the rocky ground and struggling to actually shift the earth. It was less like dirt and more like digging through a brick wall.
“This is really tough,” she complained.
“Let me dig this one. You got the last one,” I said. I took the shovel and used some strengthening magic along with some really powerful telekinesis to shove it right through the rock
“The weather is starting to get bad again,” Ruby said, sounding worried. I paused to look up at the sky. The winds were starting to shift, and the clouds above us were twisting and being torn apart by invisible claws.
“You’re right,” I replied. It was probably just bad timing, but I couldn’t shake the idea that the sky didn’t like what I was doing and it was working itself up to stopping me. I redoubled my efforts like I was bailing water from a sinking ship. “Ruby, box!”
She levitated over the box, carefully placing it in the hole. I covered it up, tossing shovelfuls of dirt and rock over it and tapping them down securely.
“Just one left!” I had to raise my voice to be heard over the gusts of wind. “Just the north! Then the shield will activate!”
“Let’s hurry!” Ruby yelled back. “I don’t like this!”
We ran for it. Griffonstone wasn’t a huge city. It was really only about the size of Ponyville, and more thinly populated. With the way the weather was picking up, it felt like we had to run a marathon to get where we were going. Dead leaves and dust blew around us, a storm that seemed focused and centered right on us.
“Sunset!” Ruby yelled in alarm.
I slowed down a little, letting her catch up. I knew the only thing worse than running through a disaster was being abandoned by someone who was supposed to be taking care of you.
“Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon!” I promised. I looked at the compass. We were nearing the edge of town. “When we get there, I’m going to start digging right away. Can you cast one of the basic shield spells around us until I’m done?”
Ruby nodded. “Yeah!”
I skidded to a halt and stabbed the shovel into the ground. I worked fast, and Ruby’s shield shimmered around us, deflecting stray sticks and dirt. I dug a shallow hole and jammed the last box into it before tossing a layer of soil and rocks over it and stepping back.
“Here we go!” I shouted. I started casting, closing my eyes and focusing on the box right in front of me. The other boxes were connected to it in a way, each containing a lock of my mane. Sympathetic magic like this used symbolism to make each box the same box, in a certain metaphorical way.
I used that metaphorical connection to draw a line between the boxes in my mind’s eye, forming a circle around the whole city. I started putting the shield spell together, runes echoing from one end of the circle to the other. A wavering field of magic started washing into the sky, rising like the tide and fighting against the storm.
The sound of the wind started to fade, and as the spell reached its peak, everything went silent.
Ruby dropped her shield spell and looked around. “Did it work?”
I took a moment and looked around. It all looked okay, but… I closed my eyes and cast a spell, delicately feeling at the inner edges of the shield I’d made.
“Yes and no,” I sighed, disappointed. “It’s working for now but it won’t last forever. There really is some kind of magic in the storm and it’s a lot tougher than normal weather. We’ve got maybe two or three weeks before it fails entirely, and that’s me being really hopeful and pretending it won’t get worse.”
“So what do we do to fix it?” Ruby asked.
I sighed. “We come up with a new idea. But we’ve got some time to do it.”
“I can’t believe this,” I groaned. “Three days going through bad penmanship and worse poetry and there’s really nothing from King Grover himself? He founded Griffonstone! Didn’t he have anything to say about that?!”
“Perhaps he was too busy doing the work of founding a nation?” Shahrazad suggested. She hadn’t been much help at all with the bulk of the research, but she was compiling some of the better poems we’d recovered, and I couldn’t entirely discount her suggestion that there might be something wrapped in metaphor or hidden in a riddle.
“I’ve made enchanted items before,” I groused. “You know what I did? I made a blueprint before I started and then took notes along the way! I definitely wouldn't try to wing something like a weather-controlling trophy!”
“I don’t think we’re gonna find a user’s manual, Miss Sunset,” Ruby said. “I think this is the oldest book in the whole royal library, and… it’s got some bad news.”
“Bad news?” I asked.
“It’s from King Grover the Third, and it starts with a long dedication to his grandfather. I think it was written before anyone invented spelling.” She passed the book along to me, and I saw the page she was talking about.
It had the clear marks of being professional work, not printed but scribed by someone who wrote things down for other people as their primary job. It was centered, written carefully on the parchment with faded ink, and it started out with a lovely dedication to a beloved ancestor and then descended into complaining about how no one left any written instructions for future kings and how they expect him to just figure things out on his own. Grover the Third went on to call himself extremely wise and forward-thinking and so he created the royal library and started keeping private records for the royal family.
“Okay, maybe this guy’s not so bad,” I sighed. I could feel his frustration radiating off the page even through centuries and someone else transcribing his words. “Looks like we’re not the first people to want answers about the Idol. He even talks about how he can’t experiment with it much or even ask for help because everyone in Griffonstone thinks he knows exactly what he’s doing! He must have really trusted the scribe who wrote all this down.”
I flipped through it a bit, but really most of the journal was about crops and trade, and it was a window to a past where they had farms on all the surrounding peaks.
“Here we go!” I said, excited. “I found something!”
“Really?” Ruby asked.
I put the book down flat on the table so she could see it. “Look at this. Someone got the bright idea to try and steal the Idol of Boreas. I guess it was sort of a minor rebellion. They used the Idol to cause storms, terrorize an entire army, and then…”
“And then?” Ruby asked.
“I guess there was some sort of backlash? Grover the Third called it the ‘wrath of typhoon’ or maybe ‘the typhoon’? It’s not super clear. Even without all the details, I can recognize what happened here. She was using the Idol, tapping into more and more of its power, and then it started going wrong and all the energy in it grounded through the griffon trying to control it.”
“Total thaumatic reversal,” Ruby said sagely. It was something I’d warned her about. Her talent put her at risk of experiencing it even without an ancient artifact in her hooves.
I nodded. “Apparently there wasn’t enough left to hold a trial, but it served as a deterrent for anyone else who wanted to try stealing it.”
“Ah good,” Shahrazad said. “Cosmic power and incredible danger. Truly, beloved, we are operating firmly within your comfort zone.”
“I wish you were wrong,” I sighed.
“Incoming!” Ruby warned. I looked up at a twist of fire weaving through the air. I leaned back and let it pop in the air over my head, a scroll dropping onto the book I’d been looking at.
“I hope this is good news,” I said, cracking the scroll open to see.
My Little Sunset,
It seems King Grover kept his secrets well. As far as I can tell, there are no reliable accounts of the creation of the Idol of Boreas in the Archives. All information we have about it comes second- or third-hoof.
I was afraid I would be giving you only bad news, but I found another source of information. Luna heard about your search, and she informed me that long ago, she’d visited King Grover’s dreams. She did not make herself known or interfere, but part of keeping Equestria safe in those early days meant knowing what potential allies or enemies were planning, and Luna’s methods were relatively harmless.
She wants me to warn you that what she saw was wrapped in dream logic, and it was a long time ago. She remembers a mountain reaching above the clouds and a castle hanging down with only the sky under it, as though it was the highest point in the world.
We both believe that the mountain she saw in his dreams lies within the Dragon’s Spine, an area of tall peaks to the south of Griffonstone and separating it from the Dragon Lands. The mountains were and still are largely unexplored, and several travel journals note a mountain at least as tall as the Canterhorn. I do not believe anypony has ever climbed it.
It is possible that the secret to the Idol of Boreas lies somewhere near there, but it is impossibly dangerous. It is wild, undeveloped, full of cliffs and deadfalls, and since nopony has ever summited the peak, a safe path to the top is unknown.
I know it is pointless to tell you not to go, but instead, I will ask you to be careful, and I will append a list of supplies recommended to me by experts. I also suggest you find local expertise. Griffons are excellent at rock climbing, and it should be possible to hire a few to help.
Be Careful,
Celestia
I flipped the scroll over, and there was a list of supplies. I’d have to go over it later. I was glad Celestia understood that I wasn’t going to just let it go.
“I guess that’s a lead,” I said. “The tallest mountain in the world…”
“If it’s between here and the Dragon Lands it’s a long trip,” Ruby said. “Why would there be anything all the way out there?”
“Good question. Most of the time when we think about magic, it’s something that’s scientific and practiced and studied. It wasn’t always like that. Historians think the first fires were caused by lightning and other natural phenomena and then ancient ponies learned to keep the fire going and use it to keep them warm. Magic was the same way. Primal magic came from wild energy in the world and ponies learned to use it to help them survive. Places like high mountains, the deepest parts of the ocean, magic collects there. If King Grover went there, he might have found a way to channel it and use it to forge the Idol.”
“It sounds really dangerous,” Ruby said.
“It totally is!” I agreed, excited. “But that explains why no one knows about the Idol! If it’s primal magic, you can’t recreate it in a lab or make it in a factory, you have to go where the magic is and try to play with fire and not get burned.”
Shahrazad sighed. “Beloved, as much as you are lovely when you are working yourself up to doing something likely to get yourself killed, I am afraid that I am far too delicate and wise to climb such a peak, even in the name of love.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t make you come along,” I said. “I need you and Ruby to stay here and keep an eye on things while I’m gone.”
“Aww…” Ruby groaned. “But why can’t I come?”
“I need you to keep the shield going,” I told her. “You’re the second-best sorcerer in these mountains. I’m going to write up some instructions and troubleshooting on keeping it up if something happens.”
“You can count on me!” Ruby said, saluting.
“What are you planning on doing if you do find something?” Shahrazad asked.
“Well…” I took a deep breath. “Sometimes the only thing you can do is fight fire with fire. I don’t like patting myself on the back too much, but if King Grover went up there and managed to figure out how to make the Idol, I should be able to work it out too.”
“You’re going to make a new Idol?” Shahrazad asked. She smiled. “I see. It is one way to secure your rule.”
“For the thousandth time, I am not taking over a country for you.” I said it calmly but firmly. “If you really want to rule a nation you should apologize to your dad for betraying him and trying to get everypony between you and the throne of Saddle Arabia killed.”
“It would have worked,” she grumbled, leaning on the table and pouting.
“Did I hear someone say they’re making a new Idol?” Gilda asked, closing the window behind her. It reminded me of how Rainbow Dash would let herself in, and I wondered who’d given whom the bad habit. “And also some stuff about murder?”
“Don’t worry about the murder,” I assured her. “But I’ve got a lead on where the Idol might have been originally made.”
“Really?” Gilda blinked in surprise. “That’s something.”
I nodded. “I could use some help. I need at least one or two people who can fly, climb rocks, and aren’t afraid of danger.”
“That could be almost any griffon,” Gilda snorted. “What you need is a griffon who can do all that and won’t stab you in the back and run off with the first shiny rock they see.”
“Good point,” I agreed. “So somebird loyal?”
“Right. And smart. And who can fly in bad weather, because if it’s anything like this place in the dry season it’s going to be absolutely nuts.”
“Great, when can you leave?” I asked, grinning.
“Was it that obvious?” Gilda asked.
“You were a little more subtle than Rainbow Dash.”
“That’s a low bar to clear.”
“Credit where credit’s due.” I shrugged. “You were able to help with the supplies for the party, think you can round up what we’ll need for a climb in the middle of nowhere?” I showed her the list that Celestia sent me. She flipped it over after reading over the short grocery list and scanned the letter from the Princess. When she got to the signature, she froze up and started being a lot more careful with the scroll.
“Uh, yeah,” she said. “But copy that onto another piece of paper. The other griffons will be weirded out if I’m carrying a note from a pony princess around with me.”
“Sure,” I said. “I don’t know how many bits we’ve still got with us, but we should be able to cover the essentials.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Gilda said. “We can probably get most of this for free. The birds in town like you and they’ll be willing to extend some credit. You come back a hero and they might even forget to ask for their bits back.”
I laughed and gave her the copy of the list, holding it out. “I have to warn you, this could be really dangerous.”
“I’m not worried about the danger,” Gilda said. “You know, if you go out and do something big and dangerous and exciting, that’s what living is really about. It’s what Dash always said anyway. I just know that sitting here on my fat butt and selling scones and never getting anywhere isn’t a way to really live. I wanna do something that matters and then I can hold my head high and…”
She trailed off, lost in memory.
“It’s easier to make amends when you’re on top of things?” I guessed.
“I don’t want to go crawling back looking pathetic. If I come back as a big shot… I won’t feel like I’ve just been making bad scones while she joined the Wonderbolts.”
I knew that feeling all too well.
“I hate this place!” Gilda shouted over the biting wind.
“I hate it too, buddy!” I yelled back. It was so cold my mane and tail had ice at the tips even with a temperature control spell fighting against the chill. It was no normal blizzard. I’d come in search of primal magic, and I was starting to see the signs. I just hoped it wasn’t going to kill us both.
“I’m not your buddy!” Gilda snapped. “We need to get out of this cold! I’m freezing my feathers off!”
I looked around. There was a heavy snowfall around us. Or… not really a snowfall so much as just snow being blown around, like a sandstorm in the desert but colder and wetter. It was blowing around us in every direction and forming drifts and piles around anything that broke up the terrain.
“We can’t put up the tent here!” I said. “It would blow away if we tried getting it set up!”
“I’m not talking about the tent, I’m talking about that!” She pointed with a talon and I frowned, peering through the snow and trying to make out whatever she’d spotted. It was almost invisible in the storm, and I stared for a few seconds wondering if she’d just seen a mirage when I caught the glow of light coming through shuttered windows.
We hustled over to it, a sign of hope turning it from a slog through the weather into fleeing the storm like it was chasing us. With the wind ripping at us, it sure felt like a predator was coming for us.
The little building was some kind of a hut, made with wood and brick and stone that had all frozen together into a single mass like it had become part of the permafrost. It would have been polite to knock or try to make ourselves known, but it was just too tempting with the light streaming around the edges of the door, and Gilda and I just popped the door open and walked in, the sudden blast of heat as soothing as a massage. She pulled the door closed behind us, leaving that storm outside to beat against the walls.
I looked around, catching my breath. If there was an opposite of minimalistic design, this was it. It was cluttered with little tables and knick-knacks and little trinkets and shiny bits hanging from the ceiling. An elderly griffon wrapped up in layers of patterned cloth looked up at us with an expression of happy surprise.
“Sorry for barging in,” I apologized.
“No, no, it is wonderful to have visitors!” the griffon ushered us further in, taking us to one of the cramped tables closer to the fire pit burning in the middle of the circular hut. “Please, rest and warm yourselves.”
“You’re too kind,” I said, taking off my saddlebags and sitting down in one of the lashed-together chairs. “It’s brutal out there.”
“Are you sure we’re even going the right way?” Gilda asked. “I think the weather’s gotten worse every day we’ve been out here.”
“It has gotten worse,” I agreed. “I’m sure that means we’re getting closer.”
“Are you two going to the Taranau Uchaf?” the old griffon asked. He put two clay cups on the table between us and carefully poured steaming green tea into them, finishing them with a dollop of butter.
“I have no idea,” I said. “What’s a Taranau Uchaf?”
“It means ‘Highest Thunder’ in an ancient language,” the griffon said. “It’s the tallest mountain in the world. Ponies and griffons and even a few dragons come through here once in a while seeking it. It’s about all people bother with, out here.”
“That’s not good,” Gilda mumbled, staring at the butter melting in her tea. “Maybe we’re not the first after all?”
“Oh, if you’re trying to be the first up the peak, you still have a chance,” the old griffon assured us. “None of the others ever came back.”
“That’s even worse!” Gilda groaned. “And what’s with the butter?”
“When you’re on the mountain you need more energy to keep warm,” the old bird said, patting her on the back. “Butter is good for that! It’s the traditional way to make tea in Yakyakistan.”
“Bottom’s up,” I said, shrugging and taking a sip. It was a strange experience, a little like tea and milk but with a completely different texture. If it had been a strong black tea instead of green and brewed from plants that had absolutely no relationship with a real tea bush, it might have even been good.
Gilda shuddered but kept the drink down. “Got any tips on how to avoid dying?” She asked. “Aside from buttered tea.”
The old griffon smiled kindly. “Oh, plenty. The best advice is not to try climbing the Taranau Uchaf. I’ve never climbed it even once, and I’m still alive even at my age!” He laughed.
“Sounds like good advice,” I admitted. “Do you know anything about the mountain?”
“It’s the kind of mountain that shouldn’t exist in the real world,” he said. “There should be a limit to how high nature should be able to stack stone on top of stone without it all falling down. You can see it from the ridge nearby on a clear day, but I’ve never gotten a look at the peak.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“There’s a storm that lives on the mountain like a dragon lives in its lair. It circles the spire and shrouds the top of the Taranau Uchaf from the eyes of those of us stuck down here below it.” He poured us a little more tea, and a cup for himself. “A long time ago, it was believed that gods lived on mountains, and that’s the kind of mountain where I can believe they still live.”
I nodded. “Gods do sometimes live on mountains,” I agreed, thinking of Canterlot. Celestia wouldn’t like being called a goddess, but it was the way a lot of ponies thought about her.
“There has to be a reason it’s so deadly,” Gilda said. “Big, tough mountain? Sure. I can believe that. Maybe it’s even impossible to climb. But if no one ever comes back, that means no one ever gave up and decided to turn around and try another day. That’s impossible.”
“If it was just the mountain, you might be right,” the old griffon agreed. “It doesn’t want to be climbed, but there are many peaks that hate being scaled. Rockslides, ice-covered cliffs, sheer winds, all of them are dangerous, but all of them have been conquered. All except the Taranau Uchaf.”
“So what’s special about it?” Gilda demanded.
“Hmmm…” the old griffon thought for a moment. “If you wanted to rob a bank, the vault door is an obstacle, but if you had time and the right tools, you could open it. The door can be overcome. But banks aren’t robbed every day.”
“Because they’re guarded,” I said carefully.
He nodded. “Yes. I have seen footprints in the snow. Something lurking that isn’t like any other creature. Grasping claws and cloven hooves, a huge creature, probably twice as big as a griffon. I’ve only caught glimpses and heard noises out there in the dark.”
“Well that’s good news,” Gilda said.
“Monsters in the dark are good news?” the old griffon asked, surprised.
“If they’re guarding something, it means there’s something worth guarding,” she said. “And to be honest, I wasn’t hopeful about our chances at mountain climbing. It’s not one of my hobbies and she’s a pony.”
“A pony who happens to be pretty darn good at monster hunting,” I reminded her.
“Yeah, as long as you don’t blow up the whole mountain because you let loose,” Gilda joked. “I don’t want to get buried alive in an avalanche because you’re throwing fireballs everywhere.”
“I’ll be careful,” I promised. “Can you sell us some supplies and point us in the right direction?” I asked. “We could use some fresh food.”
I produced a bag of bits a put it on the table.
“I’d be happy to help,” the old griffon said. “I’ll make sure to pack you some tea. A warm drink can save a life, you know.”
“You think this is it?” I asked, looking up at the mountain. It loomed in a way that made it seem almost like a child’s drawing of a mountain, just going up and up and up forever. A ring of clouds circled it, and I could hear the rumble of distant thunder.
“If this isn’t it, I don’t even want to see the one that’s even taller,” Gilda said. “This is crazy! You feel those winds?”
I nodded. I wasn’t sure why she’d think I could miss them. The wind was a constant, twisting presence, whipping in every direction at the same time.
“It feels like that because it’s all downdrafts!” she explained. “It comes down, hits the ground, and then goes in every direction. It’s like, uh, if you pour water on the ground it just splashes in a big circle, right? That, but with the wind.”
“It’s going to be impossible to fly against that, right?” I guessed.
Gilda nodded. “No way I could get any lift. We’re gonna have to do this the hard way.”
“Cool,” I sighed. “I sure wasn’t hoping to fly the whole way up to the top.”
“Don’t be stupid. You knew we weren’t going to do that already. If anyone could fly to the top they’d be there all the time!”
“Yeah, but I could still hope,” I said.
We slogged through the snow. With the way the rocks and slopes worked, there was one obvious pass through the rugged terrain, and even if it acted sort of like a channel for the wind it was still better than being out in the open and totally exposed.
I almost tripped over something just buried beneath the surface.
“What the…?” I asked. I brushed some of the snow away and revealed a bare toothy grin set in ivory. It was a skull. A pony skull. The crown was cracked and broken, and with how the cold preserved things it could have been a year old or a century.
“That’s not ominous,” Gilda muttered. I barely heard her over the wind. “Hey, check this out.” She pulled something out of the snow. It was a huge spear, the tip forked into two tines, the shaft longer than her whole body.
“Definitely not a pony weapon,” I said.
“No, it’s not,” Gilda agreed. “And way too heavy for a griffon to fly with. There’s something else here…” She trailed off and used the tip of the spear like a crowbar, prying at the ice and grunting with effort before the snow shifted. She revealed a much larger skull, with tusks and fangs and horns that were almost as wide as her wingspan, all with one empty eye socket.
“A cyclops skull,” I whispered.
“I think this is what that old bird was hearing. Well, not this one. One that’s still alive and stomping around.”
“You might be right. That spear looks like it’s about the right size for a monster like that,” I agreed. “I bet a lot of the explorers and adventurers were all ready with rope and blankets and tea and weren’t prepared at all for fighting a giant monster.”
“Glad we’re trying something different. Neither of us knows anything about mountains.”
“Hey, both of us basically grew up on mountains!” I joked. “This really is good news. If there’s a path big enough for something like that cyclops, it means we’ll be able to use it too!”
“What if it doesn’t go all the way to the top?” Gilda asked.
“Then we’ll figure it out when we get there, pal,” I said, patting her on the back. Gilda rolled her eyes and gave me a glare, but there wasn’t really any heat behind it.
“I’m not your pal.”
“We’ll figure out a good nickname at some point.”
“Ugh. You ponies and your nicknames,” Gilda muttered, tossing the spear back down. “Just keep your eyes open. If there are monsters around I don’t want them to get the drop on us.”
“I’ll try, but your eyes are better than mine,” I said.
“If you can’t see, then listen for them!” Gilda snapped. “I don’t like this. The clouds up there aren’t natural. They look too much like the structural support clouds under Cloudsdale. I got a feeling that we aren’t looking at a storm on a mountain, we’re looking at a fortress.”
Something moved in the corner of my eye. I froze and turned, horn glowing. After a moment, there was a break in the driving wind and I could see it was a ragged, torn scrap of brightly-colored fabric held in place under the top few stones of a rock cairn.
“Don’t start blasting everything,” Gilda scoffed. “If you get us buried alive in snow, I’ll dig you up myself just so I can kill you!”
“Sorry,” I said. “I’m just on edge. I don’t like it when I can’t solve a problem with violence.”
“That’s one of the first things you’ve said that makes me think we’ve got something in common,” Gilda laughed. “We’ll be okay for now. Head between those rocks.” She pointed. I could see what she meant. We’d been following a gulley, and there was a path out of it in that direction.
The further we got, the more we found signs of other expeditions, everything just left in place on the mountain like they were only a little bit ahead of us and we’d see them any second. There were pitons driven into cliff faces, ropes that had gone stiff with age but were still sturdy enough to climb, and even marked trails.
All those ponies and griffons had gone on ahead planning on coming back. They’d thought they were just cutting a path for the next team and making sure they had a safe way to get home, and they’d been taken by the mountain or whatever lived on it.
The next few hours were tense. Gilda and I both kept sensing danger around us, but there was just nothing visible. We’d seen the cyclops skull below, so we knew there was something here, but had we escaped notice, or were they just holding back and waiting to see if the mountain finished us on its own?
Meanwhile, the mountain really was doing its level best to kill us, and it didn’t feel impersonal. I’ve read plenty of stories where they talk about the sea or the tundra or a desert as a huge force, too big and profound to care about any one pony. Dying to it was like an ant being crushed by a plow. That pile of rocks hated us. It was taking a personal vested interest in making sure we didn’t leave. If we were ants, we were ants that had crawled into somepony’s picnic and ruined their perfect day.
We stumbled through a narrow crack in the rock and onto a wide plateau, and we weren’t the first to get there.
“Look at all this,” Gilda said, peering around.
It had clearly been used as a base camp, and more than once. There were signs of old firepits, half-buried tents, paths shoveled out, flags and poles stuck in the frozen ground. There was trash everywhere, just left among abandoned saddlebags and supplies.
“I hate to say it, but we might need to camp here,” I said. “The storm is picking up and we’re not likely to find anywhere better to set up our tent!”
“That’s probably what everyone else here thought!” Gilda retorted. “You might not have been able to figure this out, but nothing good happened here!”
“You want to keep going and try getting a tent pitched when the weather is even worse and we’re stuck on a narrow ledge?” I countered. “I don’t like it either but I can set up some wards to let us know if anything gets close!”
Gilda looked like she wanted to argue, but a wind cut through like an icy knife, and both of us shivered even with the layers of clothing we were bundled up in.
“Fine!” she agreed. “Help me clear out a space for the tent!”
We decided the safest thing would be to set up next to one of the tents that was still standing. Even if it was shredded and useless, it had remained standing for a long time, so it had to be at least somewhat shielded from the wind.
I was snapping together the tent poles when Gilda stopped me with a silent talon on my shoulder and motioned with her beak. I followed her gaze. There was a huge hoofprint in the snow, as big as a royal guard’s shield and split in two. A massive cloven hoof had made the mark, at least as big as my body.
“They’ve been here too,” Gilda said quietly. “And it’s recent. Anything older than a day or two would get erased by all the wind and snow blowing around.”
“We’ll take turns being on watch,” I said.
“What about your spells?” Gilda asked.
“I trust my magic with my life,” I said. “I don’t trust my ability to wake up and not just set everything on fire.”
“I’m starting to think setting everything on fire isn’t such a bad idea,” Gilda said. “My beak’s chattering!”
“Calm down, I’ll turn up the heat,” I said. I adjusted the flow of magic through the crystal array in the middle of the tent, making the temperature a little more tolerable.
“That’s a cute gadget,” she said.
“It’s a Crystal Empire design,” I said. “They don’t have a lot of wood to burn, so they invented crystal stoves like this to cook and heat their homes. It’s really efficient and won’t fill up the tent with smoke or anything.”
“It takes forever to heat up food,” Gilda complained. “And your food stinks up the place.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Gilda do you really want to throw stones on that? Sure, I know Saddle Arabian curries aren’t everyone’s favorite food, but you’ve been eating nothing but canned beans and tins of sardines and tuna.”
“You mean I’ve been eating safe food that won’t make me sick.”
“It’s cat food.”
“I’m at least half cat,” Gilda countered. I had to concede victory to her on that point, so I nodded and lowered my head. She huffed. “Look, my stomach gets upset easy with weird food. Flight camp in Cloudsdale was the worst. You ponies eat so much grass and leaves and it always made me bloated. Plus your water is like… weird.”
“The water in Cloudsdale is pure rainwater. When you say weird do you mean… clean?”
“Yeah, it’s clean, but it doesn’t have minerals in it. You need some… salts and stuff from rock. It makes water healthy and good for you.”
“I… hm. I’m not sure clean water is unhealthy, but I do like mineral water. You’d probably hate the fancy brands at the palace but I can appreciate where you’re coming from.”
“Yeah well… the point is I don’t want to get the flaps. If we don’t mess up and die I’ll celebrate on the way back. I might even try some of your awful curry stuff.”
“It’s a deal,” I agreed.
The winds picked up around the tent, and I paused and checked the wards, glancing towards the tent flap. Even with the crystal stove all the way up at maximum it was getting colder. I could see Gilda’s breath. There weren’t any monsters out there, or at least none close enough that I had to worry about them.
I sneezed and shivered, holding my hooves near the stove and trying to warm them up.
“Is it just me or is it freezing in here?” Gilda asked, her beak chattering.
“It’s not just you,” I said. “Hold on, I can cast another layer of heating spells.”
I tried to ignore the chill and put together another ring of warming runes to keep the cold away, but the spell almost immediately fizzled out. I blinked in surprise. Frost started crawling along the tent fabric, forming flowers and tracers of ice.
“Sunset!” Gilda warned.
“I see it,” I said. “It’s not natural cold! It’s some kind of magical effect!”
“Do something!” she yelled. “We’re gonna turn into ice sculptures!”
“I got this,” I said, totally unsure if I actually had this or not. “Stay here!”
“Of course I’m going to stay here! Wait, does that mean--”
I opened the tent flap, and a blast of frigid wind smacked me in the face hard enough to really wake me up. I stepped out into the cold, my whole body tense and shaking. It was like all the muscles in my core were pulling up and knotting and trying to get away from the chill. I shielded my face and looked out into the darkness, searching for whatever was doing this.
“Come on!” I shouted. “If you want me that badly, come and get me! I’m right here! I’m not afraid of you!”
The wind howled wordlessly, as big as the whole sky. I could feel it trying to worm its way in through the clothing I was wrapped up in, ice worming its way between folds of fabric. It was unnatural, alive in its own way and absolutely hostile to anything not already frozen solid.
“Do you know who I am?!” I shouted. The cold was starting to make me delirious. “I’m Sunset Bucking Shimmer! If you don’t stop right now, you’re gonna find out what it means to really piss me off!”
For some reason, the storm didn’t listen to me. That was a mistake it wouldn’t make twice.
“You think you don’t have to pay attention because I’m a unicorn?!” I yelled. “You think you’re safe just because I don’t have wings?! I’ll show you! I’ll show you all!”
I braced myself, digging my hooves into the snow and pulling magic together. I was angry enough that I wasn’t thinking clearly about my limits or what was safe or what spells were actually supposed to do, and that meant I was at my most dangerous.
I fired a beam of twisting crimson and cyan right into the heart of the storm, blasting back the wind. The air exploded in front of me, shooting up two hundred degrees and washing past me like a sauna. The snow instantly melted and then the water turned to steam, blowing a wide path around my beam just from the heat leaking from the edges. Right under the beam’s path, rock turned red and soft.
Above me, the stormcloud exploded from within. My spell punched a hole in the clouds and kept going, clearing a path all the way to the stars above.
I panted, catching my breath. The clearing was so warm now it was almost tropical.
“That’s what I thought,” I said.
“Remind me not to get you angry,” Gilda mumbled from behind me, staring out of the tent.
“Don’t get me angry,” I reminded her, half-jokingly. The winds apparently decided it was a good idea to stay away, because the air stilled, steam rising from the ground in front of us, a wide path carved up the mountainside, punching right through a few unfortunate rocks and glaciers and leaving a black scar in its wake.
“Look at that!” Gilda pointed.
I looked up, past the destruction. For the first time, we could see the peak. Or what should have been the peak. There was a massive stone castle perched on top of the mountain, outlined against the dark sky. It wasn’t a delicate twist of stone and gilding like Canterlot. It was solid, blocky, like it was meant to house an army and keep out a siege.
“I think we’ve found our final destination,” I said.
“We might be able to fly up there,” Gilda said. “If the weather stays clear--”
“I don’t know if it will,” I said. “There was a lot of magic in that storm. I think I’ve dissipated it for now, but there’s no telling how long it’ll last. It could come back when we’re halfway up with nowhere to land.”
“And that would be bad,” Gilda sighed.
“Really bad, and you know it,” I said. “I’d try teleporting us, but that’s even riskier. I don’t know where to land and my instincts are telling me something’s off about all this. Trying to pop right up there might end up with us splattering like a rotten tomato meeting a brick wall the hard way.”
Gilda shuddered. “So we have to go the hard way?”
“Come on, you’re a lot stronger than some weak little pony like me, and you don’t see me complaining, do you?” I joked.
Gilda glanced along the line of destruction I’d carved into the mountain. “Weak little pony?”
“I can’t bench press nearly as much as half my friends. More than half, actually. Fluttershy is absurdly strong and she doesn’t even know it, I swear.”
“Okay, but let’s get going now while the going’s good,” Gilda said. “We can pack this up real fast and get out of here.”
“Good idea,” I agreed. If we moved now we might be able to figure out a safe way up to the top. We got maybe halfway through packing up before it happened. A loud bell rang out over the area, like a ghostly alarm clock going off.
“The feather is that?” Gilda asked.
“My wards,” I said. I dropped what I was holding and prepped a reflexive shield spell to go off the second anything dangerous popped up. I didn’t have to wait long. Two cyclopses stepped out into the open, holding huge metal spears and wearing light armor that seemed more ceremonial than protective. Each one of them stood as tall as a house.
They didn’t approach closer when they saw me standing there with my horn glowing, and between that and having clothing and weapons I had to assume they were sentient.
One of them pointed their spear at me and started talking. I didn’t immediately recognize the language but I knew it was a threat from the tone. I was not in a mood to be threatened. Before I’d even started to come up with a real plan, I’d focused magic on the tip of the metal spear being pointed at me. The tip flashed to white-hot, the edge going runny and dripping. The cyclops holding it let go almost instantly, but not before the heat had scorched its palm. It screeched in surprise and pain, holding its burned hand close to its chest.
“That was a warning,” I said slowly and clearly. “I don’t like it when a date starts to get pushy. Take me to your leader.” I pointed up at the castle on top of the mountain, still visible through the hole I’d punched in the clouds.
“Is… where… we were… to take.” The other cyclops said, sticking the point of its spear into the exposed dirt and holding up open hands to try and seem like less of a threat. He must have been the smart one. I was surprised he spoke any Equestrian at all, to be honest.
“Great,” I said. I thought about apologizing, but if there was anything I’d learned about diplomacy it was that starting from a position of strength was usually a winning move. If they thought I was dangerous, unapologetic, and possibly unstable they’d treat me with care and avoid offending me. If I said sorry, they could use it as an excuse to start making demands of me. “Lead the way.”
The cyclopses, or cyclopsii (or maybe cyclopsen, it seemed like one of those words that might have a funny plural) led us up paths that I would never have spotted on my own. Maybe Gilda would have, but they were disguised among the snow and ice, steps and clear ledges and winding paths that hid behind cliff faces and frozen waterfalls. It was like using the back entrance to the mountain, enough of it under cover that it was clear of the wind and weather.
It was also clearly a patrol route, and when I thought about all the ponies and griffons and other people that had gone missing here, I was a lot less sympathetic to the cyclops that I’d lightly burned.
“You don’t think it’s a trick, do you?” Gilda whispered to me.
“If it’s a trick, they’ve got a lot of guts trying to pull it on us,” I said. “No, I think they’re really taking us to whoever is in charge. They know this is above their paygrade so they’re going to hand us over to their superiors and make it someone else’s problem.”
Gilda snorted. “You seem awfully sure about that.”
“I’ve worked with the Royal Guard,” I said. “I know a little bit about how soldiers think.”
The path we were on dove deeper into the mountain, twisting inwards towards the core. The whole way had been fairly gently sloped, no worse than climbing a really long set of stairs, something I had experience with ever since Saddle Arabia.
“Something’s weird,” Gilda said.
“I can feel it too,” I said.
When the path turned inward and we lost all sight of the outside, it started to become disorienting. It wasn’t like it turned into a maze, it was more like my hooves and my inner ear were starting to disagree about which way was down. It was the kind of sensation that could make a pony seasick.
The cyclopses seemed to notice our discomfort, or at least they were aware of what was happening, because they stopped the march and talked to each other for a few moments in a language I couldn’t identify.
“The way is… hm. Falling up?” one of them offered, clearly struggling with the words. “I go ahead, you watch.”
“Okay,” I said, raising an eyebrow. He nodded and went on ahead. A few more twists and turns with my sense of balance really starting to struggle, and we saw something unusual. There was a haze hanging in the air, and when we got a little closer I could see there were snowflakes and small stones mixed in with the fog. Not enough to make it dangerous, but definitely not normal.
“Watch,” one of the cyclopses said. It approached the fog layer and jumped, passing through. Once it did, it twisted in midair, turning around and landing on the ceiling, where the path continued, inverted above us.
“The gravity changes?” I asked, surprised. I knew there were a couple of spells that could do something similar.
“That makes sense,” Gilda said. She wiggled her hips like a cat and pounced, going through the mist and coming out the other side, flaring her wings and breaking her fall, landing safely. “That’s why the storm is always out there! It’s some kind of weird temperature inversion trapping the clouds!”
I looked up and lifted myself with levitation. When I hit the mist, there was a moment of zero gravity, somewhere between floating and falling, but I could feel how narrow that zone was. When I passed through it for a moment I felt myself tugged gently in two directions, like I was on top of a hill and a movement in either direction would send me tumbling that way.
It only lasted for a heartbeat, and then I was out the other side and setting myself down next to Gilda. Using levitation almost made me seem dignified compared to the cycloses acrobatics and Gilda’s catlike reflexes.
“Shall we?” I asked, setting down like it was no big deal.
The one-eyed guards led us further, but now instead of going up a long staircase, we were descending down into the depths of the earth. Or at least that’s what it felt like. The stone staircase led down to a huge set of doors made of petrified wood and flanked by crystal torches that burned with a magical blue light. The first cyclops, the one without a burned hand, pushed the doors open and gestured for us all to enter.
“I think we’ve arrived,” I said, walking in.
“I sure hope you're right about this not being a trap,” Gilda mumbled.
“So do I, but stay on your best behavior in case I'm an idiot and they're throwing us in jail,” I said. I looked around as we entered, the natural stone around us now smoothed and carved into something that definitely resembled a real castle, pretty similar to Canterlot, but at an even larger scale. That castle had been built for Princess Celestia, so everything was three or four times bigger than if it was just for the average pony. This one made even the cyclops leading us inside seem small.
“The gravity shift probably makes it impossible to fly up here,” Gilda said. “If I hadn’t known what was going to happen, I would have crashed like a total loser.”
“I don’t know if I’ve ever been up this high,” I said. “Think it’s like this everywhere?”
“Nah,” Gilda said. “Otherwise there’d be that permanent cloud layer all over the sky. It’s gotta be local to the mountain. Just don’t ask me what would happen if we tried to fly around it, because that’s weird magic junk.”
“Fair enough,” I said. I looked at the decor as we were led around. I don’t think they got a lot of visitors. It had the kind of stark, strictly functional look of a military base. A castle might have some little tables and mirrors and artwork everywhere to break up the hallways a bit, but these were just stone with an occasional worn banner.
Eventually, we got to a room that was actively being guarded, with two cyclopses standing to either side of another massive door. They raised their weapons as we approached, and the ones that had come with us said something. There was a short discussion, and then the cyclops I’d injured nodded and left, clutching his burned hand, probably to get some medical attention. The door was pulled open, and the guards stood to either side as we walked into a throne room ringed with windows.
“That’s one heck of a view,” Gilda said, peering around.
I guess someone has to go and get the boss,” I mumbled. There was no sign of anyone in charge, just that big, open space. I stepped closer to one of the windows to look. The sky hung below us, and you could forget there even was a ground at all.
“Check this out,” Gilda said. “I think that’s Equestria!”
She was leaning a little out of one of the open windowframes, craning her neck to look up at the ground high above.
“That’s impossible,” I said, but I stepped over to see what she was looking at. I could make out the terrain, though from this height it was almost like a map.
“No, check it out. That’s Las Pegasus, and there’s Reino…” she pointed, and I started to make sense of it.
“But we shouldn’t be anywhere near there,” I said. I trotted over to the next window, looked up, and saw only the ocean. The next one in the circle was over the desert. “All of these open to different places!”
I narrowed my eyes and just felt the room, like listening for soft sounds but instead feeling the magic flowing around with my horn.
“There’s a space distortion here,” I said. “I almost missed it with the altered gravity. It’s not quite connected to things the way normal space is. Those windows don’t just look like other places, they really are other places!”
“Most of them are the ocean,” Gilda said, as she made her way around the room. “If I was making a room like this I’d have it over something neat to look at. Why would you just have it in the middle of nowhere?”
“Because most of the world is ocean, and the sailors need my winds more than most,” a new voice boomed.
It was the kind of voice that could be heard across a room full of ponies. The kind of voice that made soldiers salute on instinct. The kind of voice that belonged to someone used to giving orders and having them followed.
The wind was still circling around him, and he seemed to flicker around the edges like he was still being put together, like erosion working in reverse. The being was twice as tall as the other cyclopses, though I don’t know if it was right to call him a cyclops any more than it would be to call Princess Luna a normal pony. Countless eyes circled his head, a crown looking out in every direction and floating in the wind, focusing on me as they orbited around.
“It has been a long time since I had a visitor,” he said. “Welcome to my palace. I am Typhon, the lord of the sky and ruler of all storm giants.”
“It’s a pleasure,” I said. It probably wasn’t a good time to ask about all the griffons and ponies who had died on the mountain. I doubted I’d like any answer he might have about why they hadn’t been allowed in. “I’m Sunset Shimmer. This is Gilda.” I motioned to her.
Exactly one of the dozens of eyes glanced over at her before immediately discounting Gilda and focusing on me. I guess I had made sort of a spectacle of myself so I couldn’t blame him for being wary. Gilda wasn’t likely to throw a fireball at him when he wasn’t paying attention.
“Ponies,” Typhon sighed. “I am tired of always seeing ponies in my skies. If you merely flew through them like the birds and dragons and griffons, perhaps you would be among my favored, but no. If you respected the winds and shaped them yourselves like in the old days, I might respect your work and devotion. But no.”
I frowned, keeping my mouth shut and letting him talk, but I knew he could see my expression, given how many of his floating eyes were looking.
“You turned the weather and wind into industry.” He waved a land, one of the windows shifted, the angle of light changing and showing Cloudsdale, hanging upside-down outside the castle.
I could tell it was really there, but also that we weren’t really there. Like a pegasus looking over the edge of the city wouldn’t spot us, but if I stepped through that window I’d be falling to the ground right outside the largest pegasus city in the world.
“Weather factories,” Typhon sighed, sounding disgusted and also somehow sad. “Awful. Turning something beautiful into something put together by untrained, uncaring hands and given to ponies that think only of how to exploit my sky. They turned every inch of the blue into a walled garden and can’t even be bothered to learn the names of the winds they cage!”
“The names of the winds?” I asked, confused.
Typhon shook his horned head, obviously a little disappointed.
“Why have you come here, scion of the Sun?” Typhon asked mildly, walking past us to step over to one of the windows. He reached out, and a hundred ghostly hands appeared out of the air, gently moving and shaping the clouds before vanishing again. “You destroyed part of my castle’s defenses. I forgive you for the intrusion since you did not know what you were doing.”
“I don’t need forgiveness,” I said. “I was defending myself.”
Typhon’s floating eyes fixed on me. It was hard to read an expression from them when his face was turned away, but I could tell he was mildly annoyed I wasn’t just being servile and polite. “If you turned around, the storm would have allowed you to leave.”
“There are a lot of dead ponies and griffons who might disagree with that. From everything I hear, setting hoof on this mountain is a one-way trip.”
“And yet you are here regardless of the rumors, regardless of the danger, and regardless of my defenses. So again I ask: why?”
“We came here following rumors and stories,” I said. “A long time ago there was a griffon named Grover who went out to the highest mountain in the world and captured the dust of golden sunsets, blown across the mountains by the north winds, forged it into the Idol of Boreas, and so on and so on,” I said, getting a little tired of formal poetry by the end.
“Yes. I remember him. He was one of the few mortals that showed proper respect and more than the usual amount of talent. Either one is rare, both at once is almost unheard of.”
I’m pretty sure that was a slight against me, but I was here to ask for a favor so I was going to have to let it go like I didn’t notice.
“I heard he was a pretty amazing person,” I agreed mildly. “So he really did get the Idol of Boreas here?”
“It was a boon he was granted, and I thought he would use it wisely. I was wrong. It is why I no longer receive guests from the world below.”
“So the cyclops that went to steal the Idol, it really was under your command?” I asked.
“Arimaspi was foolish. A pony came to him one day and convinced him that he would gain my favor by retrieving the wayward Idol, but the pony was only using Arimapsi's loyalty and desire to please me for her own ends,” Typhon said.
"That sounds like somepony I know," I muttered under my breath.
“I did not order him to attack the griffons, but I would not have been upset by the return of the winds in the Idol. His greatest mistake was to call on its power. Mortals were not intended to use the full power of the Idol in that way, and he could not control it, and so he died, a tool of the agendas of others.”
“And the Idol was lost,” I said. “You said you’re not a fan of ponies, but I’m here on behalf of the griffons. The weather went wild after the Idol went into the Abysmal Abyss, and the entire kingdom of Griffonstone was basically destroyed.”
“I take it that you are concerned with their fate,” Typhon said, turning back to face me. “I shouldn’t be surprised. The Sun and Moon are known best for interfering in the affairs of the mortal world. They indirectly caused this disaster, and now you've come to again put your hoof into things. Their bad habits have made ponies think they are entitled to be stewards of all things in the world.”
“People are suffering, and from what I understand, you’re not blameless either.”
Typhon took a deep breath, and it seemed like the wind rushed in and out of every window when he did.
“You are correct,” he decided, after a moment of introspection. “I do share some blame. I cannot fault you for wanting to intervene. I gave Grover a boon, and the results of that, for good or ill, are in my hands. I am not pleased about what he did with my gift, but the other griffons are victims as well, and wrath against mortals cannot be ever-lasting.”
“Right,” I agreed.
“When Grover came here and asked for my help, I set before him three challenges. He proved himself worthy by defeating them. If you wish to gain my favor I would ask that you face the same as he did. I want to see what kind of character and honor you carry with you.”
“We can do that,” I said. “Gilda is totally up for that!”
“I am?” Gilda asked. I shoved her forward and nudged her in the side.
“You are!” I said, trying to be enthusiastic. I leaned closer to whisper to her. “Just trust me on this, okay? Whatever he’s going to ask you to do, Grover did it, right? So it’s possible for a griffon to do, and you’ve actually got training and, uh…” I hesitated. “Gumption!”
“This is a terrible idea,” Gilda groaned.
“You want this griffon to face the challenges?” Typhon asked. The big guy actually seemed a little confused by that. I guess it was because I’d been doing all the talking. I couldn’t blame him too much. Humility wasn’t really one of my strong points.
“Uh… yeah,” Gilda said. “It’s to help griffons so… a griffon should do it?” She shot me a look that spoke volumes about how much she appreciated being put on the spot like this.
“Hm. I see.” Typhon said. He rubbed his chin. I must have really caught him off-balance, and I was pretty sure I knew how and why. Whatever challenges he’d given to King Grover, they’d probably involved flying. The castle being on top of the sky was a pretty big red flag that you needed wings to get around.
Actually, I wasn’t sure how Typhon got around, come to think of it. But he was some kind of immortal wind god, so I assumed he could fly if he really wanted. Pegasus ponies and griffons flap their wings, unicorns and storm giants make do.
“Gilda is a brave and well-traveled and seasoned, uh…” the only real answer to cap that off with was ‘semi-professional baker’ but I don’t think it would impress Typhon. “She’s well-known to the heroes of Equestria.” Technically true. “And I trust her as a loyal and determined griffon.”
“I cannot stop you from naming a champion,” Typhon said. “Perhaps you have a good point in doing so. The problems of the griffons and their abuse of the gift I gave them should be answered by the griffons themselves.”
He nodded to himself, apparently selling himself on his own logic.
“I was concerned because your champion needed your help. That may be a fault of my own. Perhaps I have let the defenses against the mortal world intruding into my sky grow too daunting for even a hero to overcome. They were intended to keep out the unworthy, not slay all those who dared show curiosity about my domain.”
“The biggest mountain in the world attracts a lot of creatures to try and climb it. I don’t think they even knew they were intruding,” I offered.
Typhon nodded gravely. “Yes. You are correct. I owe you some thanks for showing me the error of my ways. I cannot expect mortals to pay proper tribute when they do not even know there is tribute to be paid! It is all too easy to forget that we are not in the era of the beginning when the hands upon the wheels of the world were known to all. I will have to make this mountain more forgiving to the unworthy and find a new balance.”
He folded his arms behind his back. I had a feeling from the way he was talking that most of this was bluster, wind pun intended, and that he was justifying his actions in sort of a sideways manner. He wasn’t sorry about what he’d done, but he admitted he maybe shouldn’t have killed quite so many people.
It was probably the best I could ask for at the moment.
“As an apology, I will allow your champion to undertake three trials,” he said. “If they prove themselves, I will grant them a boon. If they fail…” He tilted his head. “In the old days I would have said that they would not live to try again, but perhaps that is something that can be changed as well.”
“I know that whatever you have in mind, Gilda is ready to rise to it,” I said, patting her on the back. “She’s totally ready for this!”
“I am not totally ready for this,” Gilda whispered.
“Sure you are,” I said, smiling with encouragement. “Don’t worry. I think he just wants a little show so he can give you his gift and honor will be satisfied on all sides.”
“And what if they’re real tests?” Gilda asked. “Ones that I’m not prepared for at all, by the way. I haven’t even stretched!”
I smiled and whispered as quietly as I could. “If they’re real tests, we’ll cheat like crazy and you’ll win by a landslide. I didn’t come all the way out here to lose.”
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Once a bad pony, always a bad pony.
What I see happening is that that Gilda makes it through the first couple tests then gets stuck. Sunset tries to cheat to help her but Gilda tells her no, having grown actually proud of her heritage and history and determined to get this unknown boon truly on her own.
But we'll see, I eagerly await more.
She's becoming quite self aware, ain't she?
Sunset, being smart in her quest to run as far as possible from responsibilities, earned rewards and actually getting some self worth back, managed to pull a fast one and make Gilda the next empress!
She has no idea she's only building up Fate Credit and it'll be cashed to her sooner or later, does she?
There are a lot of astonishing quotes to be made in this chapter, but they do resume to the fact I love the voice you give to your characters. You can feel them as people with their own personalities. It's amazing and well worth the praise
...And then the next chapter posts while I'm in the previous one, apparently. :D
"and tapping them down securely."
"and tamping them down securely."?
"a bag of bits a put it on the table."
"a bag of bits and put it on the table."?
"I guess someone has to go and get the boss,”"
""I guess someone has to go and get the boss,”"?
"He waved a land, one of the"
"He waved a hand, one of the"?
And I'm sure the wind god definitely did not manage to hear you whispering simultaneously in his throne room and his direct personal presence, yep. :D
Anyway, yes, still enjoying this story, not too surprisingly!
I mean, Sunny's not wrong.
Also, best way to get the attention of a god? Use a plasmacanon strong enough to core an mountain. That always works.
I never would have predicted the route this story is taking. Typhon here is probably the Storm King's less crazy, more powerful uncle or something.
I really like that unlike the show there is an actual epic adventure to have rather than just grabbing a trophy off a cliff.
So in this universe, Typhon succeeded in overthrowing Zeus to become King of the Sky?
This was so beautifully descriptive. It painted the scene of what they were going through so well. What an excellent metaphor, I loved it! Also, loving the lore building here with Typhon. He dropped so many interesting details here I would love to have dug into, but the flow of the story is too good to pause there.
Loving it. Don't know what to think about Typhon tough & Currently wanting to Shake Clover
When Sunset found the pony skull, I was a little scared that it was gonna be a frozen corpse locked into a manic grin. The whole sequence about how numerous beings have tried to climb the mountain and perished put me in mind of there are mountaineer corpses all over our real world mountains.
Typhon is yet another fantastic example of your world building ability. The show proper lends itself so well to these kinds of ancient beings and mysterious horrors, and being able to take off the kiddie gloves brings about incredible concepts.
“Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light.”
"I am Typhon, the lord of the sky and ruler of all storm giants.”
Hmm. Although MLP often plays fast and loose with Greek myth, I dunno if there is anything to recommend him as _the_ wind God of the Equestrian world, aside from the name. The Greek Typhon was a hellish monster usually described as having innumerable hands, wings, and heads, breathing fire, and totally decked out in snakes, and was never worshipped as a wind God, although I suppose he'd be a sky God if, as @Spamatron suggests, he overthrew Zeus (who in Equestria probably would be some sort of anthro
). In any case, a God of destruction, not a provider of helpful zephyrs to sailors.
(And Storm Giants are an invention of RPGs.
)
Cyclopes, as it would happen. So yeah, definitely a funny plural by English standards
Grover is from early equestria, Groto is the 14th king. The math doesn't check out unless griffons live for a very long time, and thats including Groto is 3 generations ago. But the Idol may have increased the life span of the kings and queens, because griffins living a long time doesnt work for the Grampa Grif, unless he's like about a hundred years old and then the math still doesn't work. So Idol must give longer life to the rulers
I really like the realtionship here between Sunset and Gilda. I also like Gilda's reasons for helping are partially selfish and how she presented herself. Typhon is interesting and is not such a monster as the one in Greek myth.
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It's unclear when early Equestria was in this universe. I think that the cliam form season 8 about how long Celestia has ruled, 1111 years I think, is ignored in this AU.
Alright Sunny, we all know the real reason you are putting Gilda out there as the one to do this, you just want to make sure that you don't get any more responsibility on you by once more being the Griffon's 'savior'.
This is definitely a very interesting turn of events.
So the rebel leader crossed the streams...
It's always a pleasant surprise to see Welsh in any literature - every time I go home my favourite part is seeing and hearing it around me again. Not really related, I know, but I just wanted to let you know that it means a lot!
It's an interesting exploration of other races' perspectives on equine weather manipulation.