• Published 30th Sep 2012
  • 3,904 Views, 171 Comments

A Head Full of Clay - Squinty Mudmane



The Cutie Mark Crusaders attempt to rediscover the all-but-forgotten art of golem making.

  • ...
2
 171
 3,904

Chapter 17: The Fate of Tincoat

When Sweetie Belle opened her eyes again, the pain had subsided to a dull ember, and she found herself staring up at the one pony she both longed and dreaded to see, once-elegant mane still maimed and pristine coat matted with dust.

“Hey, big sister,” she whispered, mustering a cautious little smile in spite of the aching she still felt.

“Oh, Sweetie Belle, you wonderful, awful, utterly insane filly!” Rarity cried, scooping Sweetie Belle up in an embrace so tight she almost felt as if she was going to choke.

“I’m glad to see you too,” Sweetie Belle muttered into her sister’s shoulder, wishing for a moment that she could just stay there forever, squeezed or not. When Rarity finally relinquished her grip enough that Sweetie Belle could move and breathe normally, she noticed the tall, dark figure looming over both of them. Princess Luna was studying Sweetie Belle the same way an entomologist might study a particularly fascinating bug, surprise evident on her face.

“Do you know what you have done, child?” the Princess asked gently.

On top of being one of the most unlikely ponies she had expected to see at this moment, Sweetie Belle had no idea how she were to properly address a princess, so she opted for a simple shake of her head. Luna looked to her right, and Sweetie Belle followed her gaze to the black obelisk, or rather, what was left of it. The stone simply ended in a jagged stump about halfway to the tip. Fragments of it lay scattered all across the circular chamber.

“Not only did you deflect a discharge of raw dark magic, you destroyed its source entirely,” Luna said, turning her attention back to the filly. “The stone is completely inert now. Granted, its power must have waned over the centuries, but still… I am impressed.”

“What exactly was that vile thing?” Rarity asked the Princess, still cradling Sweetie Belle in her hooves. “It made my hair stand on edge, even from where we were standing.”

“Little more than an enchanted ward, designed to forcefully rebuke those who were not allowed to pass it by. Several were made during the height of my—” a flicker of anguish passed over the Princess’ regal features “—madness,” she finished. “My sister destroyed most of them after my banishment, though she did not find all of them, it would seem.”

“But how did Sweetie Belle manage to destroy this one? Was it some sort of spell she cast?”

Luna shook her head slightly. “The same natural ability she possesses that lets her draw out an echo also functions as a potent shield against dark magic while she channels it. When the ward lashed out at her, its own power was turned against itself, thus destroying the stone.”

“And… the ghosts?” Sweetie Belle asked in a voice that was little more than a whisper. She still felt physically sick thinking about what she had witnessed. Or perhaps the nausea stemmed from the brutal migraine she had felt a short while ago.

Luna regarded her for a moment. “That was something else entirely. What you saw, what we all saw, was an echo, an imprint left by a violent, traumatic event. Child, you are—”

“A resonator!” Twilight said gleefully, suddenly appearing at the Princess’ side, much to the latter’s bemusement. “My goodness, Sweetie Belle, that was amazing, what you did! I’ve never seen magic like that before! It seemed like a blend of various kinds of illusion spells, along with—Mmfhhphmh!” Twilight was silenced as Spike clamped a hand over her mouth and Pinkie Pie dragged her away, perhaps having noticed the “would-you-kindly-shut-up-darling?” look on Rarity’s face. Sweetie Belle looked up at her sister, feeling rather confused by the overly excited Twilight’s sudden and brief rant. Rarity let out a little sigh and a mumble that sounded very much like “Thanks a lot, Twilight” before speaking.

“Sweetie Belle, dearest… I believe we may have found out why you are having, ah, difficulties with your magic. It seems to be related to… what just happened. With the ghosts.”

Sweetie Belle swallowed a bit. Something in her sister’s voice made her certain that she was not going to like hearing what was to come next. “What do you mean, Rarey?” she asked tentatively.

Rarity hesitated for a moment, and then shook her head slightly. “I will tell you once we’re out of this dreadful place and you’ve had a chance to rest. I cannot imagine how you must be feeling right now.”

“Later sounds good,” Sweetie Belle muttered, feeling somewhat relieved that she would not have even more heavy matters weighing down on her mind on top of everything else that was going on. Still, deep down, she had a feeling she knew what her sister was going to say, and she dreaded the real answer as much as she needed to hear it.

Seeking some way to divert her thoughts, she took stock of her surroundings. Twilight had switched her attention to Golem and was bombarding it with questions. Meanwhile, Pinkie Pie remained close by, seemingly ready to rein in the librarian if she went out of control again. Sweetie Belle noticed with a small shock that the clay pony’s right side was covered in rock shards embedded in its body.

“What happened to Golem?” she asked, looking up at her sister. Rarity followed the direction of Sweetie Belle’s gaze before replying.

“It leapt in front of you three when that stone’s magic folded back on itself and exploded. It shielded you from the debris with its body.” She turned her head back to Sweetie Belle, looking slightly puzzled. “It… saved you.”

Sweetie Belle gave her sister a weak smile. “It cares about us,” she mumbled.

She glanced over to where Spike was waddling around the chamber, poking lightly at the shards on the floor. Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy and Scootaloo were further to the left, engaged in a very animated discussion, though perhaps it was more accurate to say that Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo were talking, while Fluttershy mostly listened and made the occasional comment. All three cast worried glances towards Applejack and her sister, who stood apart from the others, back in the hallway. The very air around the older farmpony seemed frosty. Sweetie Belle’s heart sank a bit in sympathy for her friend. As much as she felt sorry for herself and dreaded whatever Rarity would tell her later, she felt even more sorry for Apple Bloom now that the consequences of their impromptu adventure had finally caught up with them. The unicorn filly felt a pang of guilt, remembering that her own sister was probably as upset about it as Applejack looked.

“I’m sorry I ran away, Rarey,” Sweetie Belle whispered. She felt her sister’s warm embrace envelop her again.

“I’m just glad you’re back, Sweetie.”

Perhaps it was a lie. Perhaps her sister was actually fuming with anger and hurt, and was only suppressing it because of the relief that they had reunited. But even if that was the case, it was a comforting lie, and one that Sweetie Belle readily accepted for the moment.


Apple Bloom shifted uncomfortably from hoof to hoof and swallowed nervously for the seventh time in one minute. Her sister had still not said anything since they had drifted away from the others by an unspoken agreement. The tension was unbearable.

What am I going to say? That I didn’t mean to make her worried? That I didn’t mean to make everypony worried? That I’m sorry I nearly got us killed chasing an old story that we really didn’t have a hayseed’s chance of knowing was true?

All of those were true, but none of them felt remotely good enough to justify her actions to her sister. Or to herself, for that matter. Not any longer. It came as an immense relief when her sister finally spoke up.

“Y’know, Apple Bloom, when Ah first got yer letter, Ah had a heap o’ things Ah was gonna say to ya, an’ that list only grew while Ah was waitin’ for Dash to go chasin’ after y’all. Ah ain’t gonna lie, Ah was so gosh-darn flamin’-as-Celestia’s-sun angry that Ah couldn’t even think straight.”

Applejack took a deep breath and lowered head, enough that the brim of her hat obscured her eyes. “Then Ah realized Ah was only angry ’cause Ah was scared, real scared, an’ it only got worse when we saw y’all were trapped in this mine. Ah feared we’d lost ya for good, an’ that Ah wasn’t gonna see mah lil’ sis ever again.” She looked up again, and Apple Bloom felt a leaden weight punch her in the stomach as she saw the tears forming in her sister’s green eyes.

“Now all Ah can think is: Why? Why did ya go off like that without tellin’ me? Why did ya lie? Why didn’t ya trust me?”

Apple Bloom worked her jaw desperately to say something, and worked her mind even harder to think of something. Why? It was such a simple question, but Apple Bloom found she had no good answer.

“Ah thought—” she began, but faltered. She thought what, exactly? She had stopped believing this was about Cutie Marks shortly after Tincoat’s cellar, but at the same time, was that not what had started it all? It was as pathetic a justification as it was foolish, but it was the only honest explanation she could give. “After all our mess-ups, Ah thought for sure the only way we were gonna get our Cutie Marks was gonna be by goin’ on some big adventure like ya did when ya went to Manehatten. Then Ah found that book about Tincoat an’ thought that was the way we were gonna do it. Ah didn’t tell ya ’bout it ’cause Ah was afraid ya were gonna tell us no.”

Applejack shook her head a bit. “Is that what this is all about? Yer Cutie Marks?”

“Ah didn’t want to lie to ya, but Ah really believed…” Apple Bloom forced herself to maintain eye contact with her sister. After all she had done, the least she could do was stand tall and confess and not look down. “Ah kept justifyin’ it to mahself by sayin’ Ah was gonna tell ya later like Ah promised, an’ Ah went with that at first, ’cause a lie was easier to take than admittin’ Ah was bein’ dishonest with ya.”

The last words had an eerie familiarity to Applejack that she did not like to think about, but she remained silent and allowed her sister to continue.

“Then we found the cellar that belonged to Tincoat, an’ we made Golem. It told us how it needed our help, an’ Ah didn’t want to just leave it to fend for itself when Ah was responsible for it comin’ to life, but Ah also got scared of goin’ back without havin’ somethin’ to show for it. If Ah did, Ah was afraid ya were gonna get even more mad at me for goin’ off without tellin’. Stickin’ with Golem meant Ah didn’t have to own up to what Ah’d done.” The urge to look down in shame was almost getting overwhelming, but she would not give in now. She would not.

“Consarn it, Apple Bloom…” Applejack muttered quietly.

“Ah know it don’t excuse nothin’, but this here’s the honest truth, sis!” Apple Bloom tried her best to keep her voice from breaking. “Ah know it sounds silly an’ foolish an’ stupid, but it's the truth!”

“But it is not the whole truth,” Golem said next to them. Both the Apple siblings looked up at the clay pony, noticing as they did that everyone else had stopped talking and was looking at them, even Princess Luna.

“What do ya mean, it ain’t the whole truth?” Applejack asked suspiciously, eyeing the clay pony warily.

“Apple Bloom opted to come with me because I convinced her that she had to, that I could not go alone,” Golem explained. “That was a lie.”

“What?!” Apple Bloom blurted in dismay. Golem turned its head slightly to look at her.

“I could likely have gone on my own, but the command I had been given by the Sixth through the Five compelled me to succeed. The only way I could ensure that was to get you, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle to come with me. You were the ones that brought me to life, so I believed you could perhaps help me again should I be damaged.”

“You mean you tricked us? After what we’d just done for you?!” Scootaloo asked, disbelieving.

“Yes.”

“Really? We were just… tools to ya?” Apple Bloom snapped, feeling an ironic sting of betrayal at this revealed duplicity.

“Yes. You were.”

“But we saw you shielding the girls against the black stone when it exploded,” Fluttershy pointed out, gesturing with a hoof at the jagged pieces of rock jutting from Golem’s side. “Why would you do that if you did not care about them?”

“I said they were tools,” Golem replied. “But the loyalty they displayed to each other and to me, as well as their genuine desire to help me changed my view.”

“Ah don’t see how that makes a lick o’ difference if ya didn’t think ’bout tellin’ ’em ’fore now,” Applejack growled, taking a menacing step towards Golem, the effect of which was mitigated somewhat by the fact that the clay pony was significantly larger than the muscular farmpony.

“The golem is a victim of its own nature,” said the calm voice of Luna, shifting the attention in the room again.

“I don’t follow,” Rainbow Dash muttered after a moment.

“A golem is single-mindedly devoted to the completion of its assigned orders, regardless of what is required. It will not relent until the task is accomplished,” Luna continued. “The golem saw your sisters as a chance to increase its own likelihood of success and exploited it. This behaviour is what makes them such efficient servants. And, I regret to add, it is why I demanded that so many should be built.”

The room became silent, except for the patter of little footsteps. Spike peeked into the hallway where the others had gathered, clutching a small, tattered stack of papers wrapped in moldy leather in his right hand.

“Hey, uh, guys? I think you need to hear this,” the dragon said, his stubby tail flicking anxiously from side to side.

“Now’s not really the best time, Spike,” Applejack began.

“No, seriously, you need to hear this. It’s written by that Tincoat pony.”

Everyone turned to look at Spike, even Golem. “What? Are you sure? Where did you find it?” Twilight asked curiously, stepping closer to look at the papers in the dragon’s hand.

“It was tucked away at the wall near the door,” he explained. “I found it when I was looking around for, uhm… stuff.”

“You weren’t trying to figure out whether the obelisk shards were edible, were you?”

Spike glanced around evasively for a moment. “Uh… No.”

Twilight walked over to Spike and studied the papers for a moment. “It looks like… like the text was burned directly onto the pages rather than written,” she said in surprise. “Tincoat must have been desperate to share this.”

“What is it? A diary? A journal?” Rarity asked.

“Is it a treasure map?” Pinkie Pie chimed in.

The dragon looked down at the bundle of papers. “Well…” he began hesitantly.


If you are reading this, I pray that you have fared better than I have, and that it means the wretched stone that ended me has been destroyed. My back and my legs are broken. I cannot move from the spot where I write these words. Whether you have found this place on purpose or by chance, I implore you to take heed of what I write next. This is my confession as much as it is my plea.

My name is Tincoat. I lived in the Royal City before it was brought to ruin. Together with my dearest friend, Amber, I discovered a way to create golems: ponies made of clay that could walk and speak, but required no rest and had the strength of many. As well as being a marvel of magical craft, the golems were perfect for menial labour, or so we thought. When we made our first breakthrough, we presented our creation to our beloved Princess Luna, who had over time become increasingly morose and withdrawn. We hoped our work would catch her interest and enliven her, or at the very least serve as a temporary distraction from whatever malaise troubled her. To our surprise and great joy, Princess Luna not only approved of the golem, but also immediately ordered that a hundred more be made according to her design.

Amber and I worked with great fervour to comply with our Princess’ demand. We created more golems, each bearing the crescent moon symbol we had been instructed to mark them with. As each golem was finished, we sent it to a prespecified destination where retainers of Princess Luna took over. The initial excitement of our beloved Princess was short-lived, though, and soon we did not hear from her anymore. Feverishly, we redoubled our efforts in the hopes that we could rekindle the spark we had seen in her for that brief moment. As our work neared completion, however, the true horror of what we had created began to dawn on us. It became clear that the golems were not simple automatons. The magic that animated them and allowed them to speak also allowed them to think and feel, yet at the same time, their very nature forced them to carry out the orders of whomever they were bound to serve without question. We were not creating tools to make life easier. We were creating slaves. I rushed to find Princess Luna and tell her of our grave mistake, but then the unthinkable happened.

I still find it difficult to put word to it. Pony eyes were not meant to witness those events. A terrible darkness had consumed our fair Princess Luna, and the entire Royal City with her. What stood in her place was a creature of such malice and evil that it made my knees weak and my insides churn, even though I only glimpsed the monster from a distance, high in the black sky, doing battle with Princess Celestia. The terrible confrontation shook the foundations of the earth, bringing the great city to ruin and twisting the land with wild, rampant magic, but in the end, the monster that had consumed Princess Luna was vanquished, banished to the moon.

The grief that overcame me, as well as many others, was devastating, but I am certain it must have paled next to what noble Princess Celestia felt at the loss of her sister. For days I wandered aimlessly through the crumbled remains of the once-glorious Royal City, dazed and in shock like the rest of its denizens. It was then that I realized that one grave matter remained unresolved: The golems that Amber and I had made for our beloved Princess were still out there, enslaved to the will of one who was no longer here to release them from their servitude. I realized I had to correct my mistake and set them free. Clay or flesh, a hundred ponies would remain under thrall until the end of time because of me, unless they were freed.

It became clear that there was only one way to find the missing golems within my lifetime. I knew not where to look, but we had learned early on that golems could sense each other. I had to ply my wretched craft one last time and create a final golem. With it, I would have chance to set things right. As I went to activate one of the few remaining golems that remained in holding, Amber confronted me. I tried to explain to her the necessity of what I intended to do, but she would not listen, nor would she budge. In desperation and panic, I struck her down.

Even as I lie dying in this room, with nothing but pain and the cold gloom for company, so close to my goal that I can almost reach out and touch it, what I had to do to Amber still remains the single greatest regret of my miserable life. I only meant to incapacitate her. I convinced myself she was merely unconscious, that she would wake up bruised but intact later, but from the way she hit the wall, the way her body was twisted, part of me knew right there and then that I had just murdered my dearest friend.

I set out to find the missing golems, wherever they might be. With the aid of the one I had created, I managed to track down several of them over the course of the following weeks. They were scattered far and wide, and though I still do not know what tasks had brought them there, I at least managed to grant them peace when I destroyed their forms. The vast majority were still missing, but the golem managed to track them to this mountain. It led me to this place, which I can only assume was created specifically to contain the golems. How it was built so quickly I will likely never know. I can only assume that the industrial prowess of the golems is even greater than I had imagined.

This is where my journey ends. The defenses of this place have defeated me. Whoever you may be, I implore you with all my heart to finish what I started. The golems are still trapped further in, locked in servitude. Find them. Destroy them. Set them free. Release them of their curse. Do not allow my mistakes to make them suffer any longer than they already have.

I can only await my death now, whether by starvation, thirst or injury. I hope it will come swiftly in my sleep, but I cannot escape the feeling that this is punishment for my crimes.

Amber, I am so very sorry for what I have done. You were my dearest friend and companion, and I betrayed you. You were better than I ever deserved.

Nightmare Moon, I curse your name for everything you have done. You brought ruin to our people. You made me a murderer. You took our beloved Luna from us. May you languish in the darkest pit of the void for eternity.

Luna, I pray that you are not lost, that part of you still exists. I pray that you will one day return to us, and all the evil that has been wrought in these days will be undone. In my dreams, you are still the fair and noble being I remember. In my dreams, Amber is alive and smiling. In my dreams, there is no pain or darkness, no guilt or failure. In my dreams, I am at peace.


The room became deathly silent once Spike finished reading, except for a muffled sniffling sound. Apple Bloom was not sure whom the faint sobbing was stemming from. It might even be herself. Even though she had known from the onset of their adventure that the pony they were chasing was long gone, the true circumstances surrounding Tincoat’s end horrified and appalled her. This was not at all how she had envisioned their search ending. She swallowed a heavy lump in her throat, looking around at the faces of the others. Scootaloo and Rainbow Dash both looked unusually pale and aghast, disturbingly at odds with the usual confident demeanour they both sported. Fluttershy, Rarity and Sweetie Belle all had wet eyes that threatened to spill over at any moment. Applejack had removed her hat and was holding it solemnly against her chest. Twilight was working her jaw furiously with no sound, and even Pinkie Pie was unusually glum and decidedly un-perky. Golem, unsurprisingly, still looked the same, but its eyeless gaze was lowered to its hooves.

It was Princess Luna who shocked Apple Bloom the most, however. The tall dark mare had her eyes closed, a single tear running from her eyes, soon followed by another. Apple Bloom’s mind rebelled at the sight. Surely the Princesses did not cry. They were ageless and immortal, always calm, collected, wise and regal. At the same time, she realized how foolish that sentiment was. Of course the Princesses had feelings as well, and of course those might come to the surface when they were being forced to recall the darkest times of their life. That still did not make the sight of the crying Luna any less unreal to behold.

It took what remained of Apple Bloom’s courage at this point to raise her voice, and even then, it was shaky and unsteady. “P-Princess Luna?” she asked tentatively.

The Princess of the Night slowly opened her eyes and exhaled, not bothering to hide her tears. She began to walk towards the great double doors at the other end of the circular chamber. “I think it is time I told all of you the truth behind this place.”