Odysseed

by AuroraDawn

Chapter 21

The lone proto-equine wandered slowly up the mountain, following a winding trail that spiralled lazily up to the summit. A gust of dry warm wind battered the creature, and he paused to tuck in his heavy cloak before making his way forward. Each hoofstep left a small indent in the red dust on the trail, sinking in a centimetre and kicking back as he trudged forward. Other sets of tracks had been made, but were being filled in quickly by the strong wind.

He rounded a final corner and came to find himself standing upon a huge plateau, perfectly flat and devoid of any rubble nor life, save for eight other equines milling about near the end of the trail. Curious, he scuffed at the dirt before lifting his head slowly, drawing a line all the way to the other end of the plateau.

“Ah, Plesippus. Well met, friend,” one of the creatures said. His hood was down, revealing a large head with a long neck. His coat was like dirt, his mane just a tad darker shade of brown. “We were beginning to wonder if perhaps you had missed the summons.”

“Hail, Akakios,” Plesippus replied, still staring dumbfounded at the clearing. “What happened here? A disaster? This peak was yet another hundred fathoms high.”

“Not a disaster, but preparation. Earthwork for a new construction, one which we require your assistance for.”

“Hail, Plesippus,” another equine nodded, approaching the two. She dropped her hood, revealing herself to be just as brown as the other, if slightly mottled with lighter tones. “It has been an age. I am pleased to see you are well.”

“Eumelia.” Plesippus curtsied, crossing a hoof in front of the other before raising and speaking to Akakios again. “Preparation? You did this?” He spread a hoof wide across the clearing in disbelief. “What hell have your studies unleashed, to cleave rock like this so simply?”

“Not so much I as us, and even moreso it was only our guidance as contribution. Come with me to the circle, and I shall explain more.”

Plesippus followed the two back to the others, who had started to lay down flat in a half circle. Akakios continued forward to stand in the middle where they all faced, and when Plesippus had situated himself towards him as well, began to speak.

“All ready? Then I shall begin. Some of you already know what I am about to say. Eumelia and Isocrates are aware, having helped me consecrate this land, for which I am grateful.”

The two nodded in recognition, and he continued.

“You have been long away, Plesippus, and are likely not aware of the rumors. The last five cycles there has been a calling amongst those magically inclined, this pestering urge that has harangued us ceaselessly. Hesperos’s vision suggested that it was the Origin of Magic, the fountain that provides us with our energy, and together with Euthalia and Eumelia he was able to deduce a way to hone in on it.

“A long journey east proved fruitful, and when Eumelia, Isocrates, and myself arrived, we indeed found the Origin. With its power, I was able to transport the three of us back to our temple near the gorge in an instant. A simple teleportation from one side of my village to the other would be debilitating normally, but with the Origin…”

He let the idea sink in, meeting everycreature’s eyes before moving on.

“A dilemma immediately presented itself. Kosmas was the first to present it, and we have his wisdom to thank such that we are working proactively instead of reactively. The fact is undeniable. The Origin is power unendless. Improperly controlled by one too weak, or handled too crudely, and I suspect it would tear said user from all existence entirely, forwards and backwards through time. Not only would they cease to be, they would cease to have been.

“Even more concerning however are those who understand enough of magic to utilize it. Those who could filter and refine their touch, siphoning just enough of the infinite to achieve any goal they may have. We cannot let this fall into untoward hooves, and it bears clarifying that even the most selfless of goals is not innately destructive or devastating.”

“Shall we destroy it, then? Its purpose is served, wise one,” Hesperos spoke up. “My studies have shown that magic only needs an Origin to be seeded on a planet. Once this has been done, it is self-fuelling.” He looked up at the sky with eyes closed, humming a strange series of noises through his throat. “The stars tell us that their Origins have all long left, off to other galaxies to create their own planets.”

“Why does our Origin remain, then?” a mare next to Hesperos asked. “Perhaps it still has a purpose upon our home?”

Hesperos grimaced. “The stars do not say.”

“I do not believe it can be destroyed. Not without cleansing our planet of life, anyways,” Akakios said grimly. “We could perhaps organize to send it away, but…”

“But what, wise one?”

“I find Sophus’s observation compelling, intriguing. Why has the Origin remained? Our interference with it is a necessity, it must be, but we must interfere with it in such a way as we are fated to.”

“So we are to keep the Origin for personal use?”

“Star’s light, Plesippus, no! No. But we are to safeguard it for the good of the planet.” He scratched his nose, a blunt and pointed thing. “I have assembled you all here as each of you have proven yourselves wise and true to self. We shall assemble a Council of the Origin, to meet here whenever such situations may present themselves. Only if all nine of us agree to a proposed purpose do we invoke the Origin’s power. This is, of course, only if all nine of us do agree to such a thing in the first place. Our mission must begin in unison, so we may maintain it in perpetuity.”

“And if we cannot reach an accord?”

“Then I follow Hesperos’s guidance and exile the Origin from any creature’s hooves for all eternity.”

Silence fell, and each of the sages took on a pose of thinking.

Time passed. Winds blew. The sun rose high, and when their shadows had all but vanished, Akakios stood up tall and cleared his throat, having all eyes on him in an instant.

“Deliberations have finished. I shall now take count. Philokates?”

“For Council.”

“Eumelia?”

“For Council.”

“Sophus?”

“For Council.”

“Hesperos?”

A pause. Every head turned at once to face the creature, their expressions practiced and neutral, but still a pressure could be felt in the air between them.

“...For Council.”

The eyes returned to Akakios.

“Isocrates?”

“For Council.”

“Plesippus?”

“For Council.” It came with no hesitation, the words almost overrunning Akakios’s. The elder squinted at him before continuing on.

“Euthalia?”

“For Council.”

“Kosmas?”

“For Council.”

“Let it be known that the Sages of Equus have decreed a Council of Origin be formed. Wear not this distinction with pride, my friends. There is no honour to be had here, only great duty and horrifying purpose. Ours shall be the job to respond to moments of crisis and strife, and it is by our acts alone that we may change the course of fate. Now, having established our order, it is only fitting that we construct our hall.”

“My strength is in philosophy, wise one,” Isocrates laughed. “I’ll not be much use in masonry.”

“Despair not, friend, and watch. Here is but an infinitesimal sample of the burden we shield from the world.”

Akakios turned around and reached into his cloak, retrieving an object that shone with colours they had never seen before. It wavered and shined, the edges of it blurred and warped such that it seemed out of focus even right before them. Each movement of it seemed to change its basic shape. It was round, yet sharp; bright, yet dark; twisted, yet flat. It was everything and nothing.

As the Order beheld this strange and fascinating talisman in Akakios’s hooves, he raised it up, eyes closed, and uttered a single word.

“Create.”

It felt as if the mountain should have shook. The eight proteges of Akakios leapt to their hooves in fright as brilliant white marble rose out of the red rock before them like a shark spyhopping out of water. It continued to rise smoothly, silently, clipping through reality seamlessly as if physics had fallen asleep. Even when it stopped and settled, sinking into the stone as all the weight behind the herculean pillars and walls manifested into reality, not a single wave of sound issued from the event.

And so it was that when the front of the temple split with all the volume of a mountain cracking in two, none of them were prepared for it. Eight sages, wisecreatures of old and stoic symbols of unwavering knowledge and power, cowered and collapsed at the crash, leaving only Akakios to stand and chuckle softly to himself.

“Come now,” he said, when all the others had regained their footing. “There are more tasks left before we may rest.” He trotted forward, driving relentlessly forward as the front of the temple started to spread open from the split; limestone grinding on marble as the massive doors willed themselves into existence.

Inside, the temple seemed even larger. The ceiling was so high as to be almost unviewable, reaching farther up than the heavens. Already wisps of clouds were starting to form, rotating lazily in the eldritch sky. There were no windows, no skylights nor lanterns, yet all the same it was as bright as a summer day, and a few of the sages shielded their eyes from the searingly white marble.

In the center of the temple, laid upon an intricate mosaic depicting a map of the entire planet, was a triangular table. It was plain, made of solid redwood or some similar looking lumber, and equilateral. A small bench sat between each side, and the tip of the triangle pointed deeper in towards the back of the temple where a solid, rectangular slab of black augite sat.

“Have a seat,” Akakios instructed, moving past the table and up to the altar. It dwarfed him in size, being just as tall as him and three times as long, and upon reaching it he pressed the Origin against the rock, where it sank in just as seamlessly as the temple had issued forth from the earth.

Joining his fellows at the table, he flipped a single hoof and magicked into existence a scroll of parchment along with quills and inkwells for each of the sages, setting them down before them.

“By nature, each member of this order cannot remain in one location. Regardless of how wise or all-knowing the plebians in the valleys consider us to be, we only acquire and maintain our knowledge by our travels and studies. I do not expect us to remain with the Origin at all times, only to convene if given sufficient reason to debate its use. Furthermore, as much as I believe in the steadiness of each of your souls, I think it would be prudent we ensure that the only way we may access the Origin is if all nine of us are here to begin with.”

Plesippus frowned only briefly before returning to his neutral expression. “I agree with the proposal, but what if one of us is lost?”

“I fear that may be the reason we need such precaution in the first place.”

“How do you mean?”

“We deal with dangerous beings from time to time. None of the protective magic nor list checking and double checking in the world can do anything to a well placed dagger in the back, and some of you do battle with spirits and demons from time to time as well. I need only mention Polybius’s name to remind you all how quickly a possession may occur.”

A sad murmur echoed in the infinite room.

“If one of us is lost, either physically or spiritually, then it is all the better no creature ever have access to this temple again, not if we lack the full wisdom of the council to consider its purpose.”

“Quite right,” Hesperos cheered, pounding the table. “A reasonable compromise, dear Akakios. I’m not sure why you didn’t mention the idea before taking count.”

“I would rather you all make the decision with the weight of the worse scenario heavy on your minds than falsely reassured on high hopes and wishes.”

Hesperos smirked. “And such is why we call you wise one.”

“Each of you have travelled far, seen much, and been to places no sentient creature has any hope to see in our lifetimes. Surely you must be aware of a personal location known only to you and you alone, one that is difficult to reach, senseless to explore, and suicidal to reside in. Fix these locations in your mind firmly.

“It is my plan that we all design temples of our own to house a personal key within. These should not be as simple as this one, however. Make them convoluted and confusing, or deadly even, filled with puzzles or traps or spells that only you would know how to avoid or counter. None who do not share your mind should be able to access the inner chamber where your key will be stored.”

“What is the purpose of this display?”

“For us, Euthalia, it will be trivial to retrieve our keys when summoned. In between such times, however, the keys will be unreachable by any other. Keeping them upon yourselves will likely make us all targets for fiends and hellions alike. A chest warded with spells may still be broken open, with persistence.”

“But a lost and hidden tomb made unnavigable to all except the designer…”

“Precisely. Please use your parchment as you see fit when considering the designs. Do not worry about your artistic skills, Kosmas,” Akakios said, cutting the equine off, “simply focus and refine your idea while you note or sketch. It does not matter what you put on the scroll, only that your blueprints and chosen locations are kept in mind while you etch upon the parchment. When done, I shall submit them all to the altar, and have the Origin make them true.”

While they started to write, darkness swirled in and rushed about, replacing the equine creatures entirely with nothing.

Author's Note:

Yay, flashbacks and lore! I hope this is more fascinating than dry. :P

Remember, every time a comment’s left, an author gets their wings!

Comments

[MatTheBook]

SET SAIL MATIES!!!!

[Azure Sandora]

11207791

[overdue]

I wonder. What could the modern ponies use the source for that these precursors wouldn't have thought of, that wouldn't end badly