• Published 18th Mar 2013
  • 9,051 Views, 135 Comments

Hand in Hoof - AdamThePony



A human infant ends up in Equestria, raised by the royal family for his own protection.

  • ...
29
 135
 9,051

Chapter 16: Machines and Magic

Chapter 16: Machines and Magic

As the elevator reached its lower floors, it began to reveal large paned windows. Outside seemed to be strikingly rural, compared to the rather modern appearance of the building I was in. Though I couldn’t make out how tall it as, foliage full and thick was growing along the path. It was only when I arrived to the ground floor that their true height and density became clear to me.

The fields around the path were as high as I was tall, and almost silvery in color. They looked like wheat, but with a more off-white tinge to them. A light breeze made them sway lazily forward and back. In the light of a bright full moon, I stood completely exposed. Dotted along the fields were wooden horses with bales of hay strapped to them. Scarecrows, I presumed. They stood sentinel on their stalks, surveying me with suspicion as I walked about. They were all dressed in a curiously plain manner, almost lacking even the most basic of accoutrements for faces save for their button eyes.

As artificial and lifeless as they appeared, their gazes still left pins and needles dancing up my spine.

I kept along the path, my feet mashing into the dirt. My eyes darted from side to side, as if I was crossing busy lane after busy lane. Though I was assured I was safe, the shivers that rattled me were not simply from my exposure to the elements.

Call it experience or intuition, but something was most definitely amiss.

The creaking of wood broke the stagnant air, followed by the susurrus of topsoil being kicked up from an errant gust and the whisking and swishing of stalks of grass. No whispers. No moans. Nothing that could come from mortal mouths.

Again, I scanned the path, pushing away the thought of turning back when the road ahead of me appeared so clear.

Such disregard was a grave mistake, and one that was swiftly punished for upon looking over my shoulder; my eyes met black, soulless buttons and stitched-on smiles. The scarecrows said nothing to me. They didn’t need to. They let their own macabre visages do the speaking for them, and their message was succinct and clear:

They wanted me to replace them as the lifeless husk that kept the crows at bay.

I was surrounded by the constructs before my mind could count them all. Ten, maybe twenty of them circled around me, trying to find the ideal points from which to pin me down. I tried to flee, but one of them pounced onto me, grabbing my leg and dragging me down as one of its friends climbed onto me. Another gets atop me, blotting out what I can see and leaving my body covered in abrasions of straw scraping against me. Button eyes and scratchy hay surrounded me as I struggled to break free. Rustling straw was the only noise I heard as I tried to force my way out. Believe it or not, hay is an incredibly heavy thing to lift.

I was surely overwhelmed within moments, and I was certain that in this more lucid state, I would be at death’s door.

And then, nothing. The noise had all but faded, the scratching ceased, and what few injuries I had were all that remained of what I endured.

I peeled open my eyes slowly, to make sure of my safety. Where there was once itchy straw and hay, there was now only open sky and gleaming stars. All signs of conflict were gone from the area, replaced now by golden motes of light, not too different from fireflies. Remembering some prior advice for Luna, I swiftly set to pursuing it.

However faint the light was, it left a discernible trail that eventually led to a most intriguing sight.

A gold figure stood at the clearing of the field. It took the shape of a unicorn, though only in shape, with a golden brown aura glowing from its horn. As it turned to me, it tipped its head upward, presumably to beckon me closer.

“You would do well to remember that this is a dream,” it spoke, the tone of its voice confirming its gender to be male. “However lucid you feel during it, it is still your dream. By learning to control it, you have an edge that can chase away the nightmares.”

The glow of the unicorn’s body grew as bright as the sun.

“By learning control from within, you can gain control without.”

From there, there was nothing more but blinding light, as the rest of this reality blurred away from me.

)) O ((

The morning was quiet, as I would have expected from a more homely city such as this. I was the first one to wake up, still as naked as before, with an open grimoire spread against my lap. Thankfully, my clothing was nearby, and I was able to adorn myself without waking my companions.

The quiet did not last long, however, as a firm knocking at the door soon roused everyone else in the room with a start. Kenta in particular started raising a fuss before Spike rushed to calm him down. In the chaos, everyone was rabbling on indeterminably to everyone else.

“Ugh, who knocks that loudly on the door this early in the morning?” Napalm groaned, rubbing her eyelids.

Maneuvering my way around my friends, I answered the door promptly.

Standing outside it was a pony I had not expected to see in years. Wearing a striking crimson coat, light blue eyes, and a pair of wings spread wide as his smile, there was no mistaking who this was.

“Robin?” I asked, smiling as I opened my arms to invite a hug.

I was afraid that the pegasus’ face would rip right off from how much wider his smile got. I could hear him squeal in a way that reminded me of air escaping from a balloon, his eyes aglimmer with practically irrational exuberance. Very faintly he mumbled under his breath, trying to form words, eventually settling on the only three I think he needed.

“Oh. My. Gosh!”

Without warning, Robin pounced onto me, squeezing his hooves around my shoulders in a tight embrace as he cooed dearly. There was a certain degree of tenderness in the way he held me, the warmth of his body worming its way down into my heart, giving me a warm, tingly feeling that was only matched by the tender embrace of a mother’s love.

“What are the chances?” he called out, swaying me side to side with a surprising amount of strength given our difference in size. “It’s been so long, mate! You haven’t aged a day!”

“Good to see y—ugh—hey...” I said, my breath wheezing out of me. “Robin! Robin! Too tight!”

Robin paused for a moment, looking down at me and noticing my flushed appearance before promptly releasing me, my body hitting the hardwood floor with a distinct thunk.

“Sorry about that,” he stammered, scratching the back of his head with his right hoof. “It’s just been so long, I guess I must have gotten carried away.”

I waved my hand with a smile. “It’s nothing; I’m happy to see you, too.”

Robin continued to beam as he went back to the door to retrieve a noticeably large box, plopping it down before me as he planted his hooves across the top.

“I’m honestly surprised you didn’t send for me sooner,” he said as he gripped the handle of the box with his mouth. “If I’d have known you were in town and hurting for gear, I’d have rushed over in a heartbeat.”

“Sorry about that,” I blushed, breaking eye contact. “I’ve been out on the road for a little while now, so I only had a chance to reach you when I made it here.”

My smile returned after a moment’s thought as I turned my attention back to my old familiar again.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m really happy to see you again. Especially since you get to meet my friends.”

“Don’t sweat it, man,” Robin scoffed as he opened the case up in front of me, “I’m just thrilled to see my old camping buddy again. The fact you’ve gotten friendlier since I last saw you’s a bonus, in my book.”

The two of us shared a brief laugh as my friends woke up, introducing themselves in lazy, half-awake hums.

“I’m surprised you never got this stuff, Lance!” the pegasus pointed out. “They must have had this waiting for you since graduation.”

I arched my brow. “Didn’t you say you were going into cloud sculpting with the weather team?”

“I did say that, yeah,” he replied. “Then I thought about it for a while. I thought to myself, ‘I bet Lance would get awfully lonely going to boot camp by himself.’ So I went and joined the EUP, instead!”

My eyes widened considerably. “You went to all that trouble for me?”

Robin smiled and patted me on the back.

“Of course I did!” he boasted. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

I looked down, the gravity of Robin’s words weighing considerably on me. I had a chance to keep a friend, and I ended up squandering it by the time we parted ways.

“Shame we ended up in different divisions, though,” the pegasus sighed. “I bet you and I would have had loads of fun together.”

I kept my head down, bittersweetness pooling in my mind. I didn’t look directly at Robin for a while, merely leaning into his general direction as he unpacked the contents of the box.

Perhaps I was being too obvious with my feelings, because after a moment Robin took notice.

“You don’t look so good, man,” he noted. “What’s eating you?”

I let out a deep breath before I shared a look with him again.

“I think I feel some of that shame, too,” I said bluntly. “You were one of my first friends, and I never got the chance to spend time with you.”

Robin smiled, holding my chin up.

“Water under the bridge, Lance,” he said, cuddling into me as he did so. “What matters is we’re here now, and I can see you’ve got some guys and gals who have your back.”

He tapped my back another two times and gestured to the unpacked box.

“Now why don’t we lose the languishing and let’s talk loot.”

Robin first introduced me to a brassy-gold spear, which extended in a way like my childhood staff.

“This baby’s a lightning spear. It’s made from coronium, so it has a shine like gold, weight like a feather—”

Robin gave the spear a deft toss. It missed the lot of us, save for nicking some hairs from our heads, and sunk over a foot into the wall behind us.

“And a cut like steel.”

“And you had to demonstrate that by nearly impaling us?” Napalm groused.

“Too right,” Roughshod agreed, patting his body to make sure he was still one piece. “You could’ve bloody well taken our heads off.”

I went to go pluck the spear from the wall as Robin gave the next item—a brown bodysuit with a few metal plates attached to it—a few shakes.

“And here we have a dragonskin—”

“Dragonskin?!” Spike blurted out.

“Relax, scaly,” Robin assured. “It’s just a term; this is a full-body suit made to dampen impact. The name comes from its scaly look.”

He gave the suit a couple of pats, eliciting solid thuds both times, each sounding more so than the last.

“It’s also designed for high-altitude use,” he mentioned. “This is air force-level stuff.”

I picked up a pair of goggles that were previously untouched. “And what do these do?”

“What any other pair of goggles do, silly,” Robin replied. “They keep your vision safe and clear.”

As I took mental note of all the equipment, fiddling with the spear in my hands idly, I smiled. It was good to have contingencies, and it was even better knowing that a friend had gone the trouble of bringing it to me.

I held the completed set in my lap for a while, admiring the craftsmanship.

“So, gonna try them on?” Spike asked.

I smirked. “Are you alright with me changing here?”

Spike blushed for a moment, but nodded quickly.

I’m not sure why I bothered asking that question. Everyone save Robin had seen me in full display at least once, and most ponies didn’t care less about clothes in the first place.

This in mind, I quickly peeled off my tunic and trousers, laying them on the ground as I did my undergarments. I shivered for only a few brief moments from the early morning chill, but it was negligible at best. I could notice Robin blush as I bent down to pick up the dragonskin suit, pulling down the zipper as I did so.

With a deep breath, I plunged my legs into the suit, my arms following suit. As my body sank into it, I admired the extra work done to accommodate my anatomy. They even stitched the hands! Now that’s attention to detail. I then sucked up my gut, pulling up the zipper and relishing the sound it made as it reached the top of my breast.

Then, I adjusted the goggles slightly before giving the elastic band a stern tug and wrapping it around my head. I winced as the band snapped against the back of my head, but I found it and the suit to be a snug fit after a few adjustments. It felt like practically nothing at all, really.

I turned about and gave a few stretches and poses to make sure of the fit, trying not to come off as too showy, before giving a hum of approval.

“Fits like a glove,” I said, giving a confident flex. “I’m glad I sent for it.”

Robin smiled. “Anytime.”

It was then that a thought came to me.

“You know, we were actually about to leave town,” I told Robin. “But, would you like to share breakfast with us before we go?”

Robin’s eyes lit up like the lights ‘round the houses on Hearth’s Warming eve.

“I’d love to!” he gleefully giggled. “I’ll treat you guys, even!”

“Sweet!” Napalm shouted, pumping her foreleg. “Thanks a bunch.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Robin replied. “Any friend of Lance is a friend of mine.”

I nodded. “Here, here.”

“What’s keeping us, then?” Roughshod grumbled, swirling a hoof over his stomach.

On that notion, the lot of us gathered our things and filed out of the hostel room. As we left, I gave the room a final look back and briefly reflected on the matter.

Once again, I was glad to have made at least one friend, as the rewards of connections were showing through beautifully.

***

The breakfast with Robin had gone like a dream. We enjoyed doughnuts, and danishes, and coffees with cream. We told tales of our exploits to him, and he shared his own tales with us over the din of a sleepy morning clientèle. While his were humbler than my own, he too appeared to have had more than his fair share of adventures.

From what he’d told me, Robin spent a great deal of time in aerial patrols on gunships and zeppelins. Much like myself, we was also tasked with doing deliveries. I supposed it was only fitting that he was also negotiating with foreign powers. It seems he’d become quite the courier. And here I was still in pony territory.

Of course, I was more reticent regarding more recent events, only mentioning them in passing, but I think Robin understood well enough how much it pained me even to abridge them. I suppose, in spite of our long-term estrangement, he had a way of knowing when not to dig too deep. Call it him being conscientious, or perhaps merely considerate. Either way, I was grateful.

When we were done talking about what we’d been doing in the past, we finally had a chance to speak of current events.

“So, you said you were about to leave town,” Robin noted. “Where are you headed?”

“We were told there’s a derelict temple not far from here,” Spike explained, pulling out his map and unfurling it to point to the recently-made markings. “We’re going to scope it out and see if we can find this airship the royal engineer was talking about. That way, we can take flight for the Griffon Kingdoms.”

Suddenly, Robin planted his forehooves on the table, lifting himself up gleefully.

“So you’re becoming sky pirates?!” he gasped. “That’s awesome!”

I blushed and made a lowering gesture with my hand, pinching my fingers together.

“It’s less ‘pirates and privateers’ and more courtiers and couriers.”

Robin’s glee deflated as he crossed his hooves in disappointment. “Lame.”

“I’ll promise you this, though,” I said. “If I find this ship, the minute I get there and back again, I’m bringing you and the rest of my friends along for a nice little cruise. You know, take you someplace nice for holiday.”

“You’d do that for me?” Robin asked, perking up slightly.

I smiled and nodded, placing a hand over Robin’s. “You did me a wonderful favor, so it is only fitting I return it.”

Robin then smiled back, a glint of his teeth showing as he pumped his hoof.

“I’ll hold you to that promise, Lance,” he swore. “As soon as you get back, right?”

I performed a familiar gesture of oath. “Cross my heart and hope to fly.”

Robin pulled me into a tender embrace, letting me go after a few seconds.

"I'll be ready and waiting for you when you get back."

The two of us shared sizable grins before we stood up from the table, inviting my friends to stand with us.

"Well, this breakfast was really nice,” I said, patting my stomach. “We should do this again when we get back.”

“No kidding!” Spike added, prior to eking out an impressive burp of flame.

“I’ll make sure to save a place at the table for you,” Robin joked, laughing as we left the restaurant in town.

As we neared the town border of Pasofino, our packs filled with provisions and our hearts with hope, Robin and I shared a final farewell, promising each other that we’d meet again sooner rather than later. We waved goodbye and went our separate ways soon after, Spike taking point to lead us towards our next encounter.

***

“Well, this place looks inviting,” Napalm rolled her eyes at the sight of this temple.

Before us stood a squared pyramid. It appeared to have made from adobe bricks, with a roofed entrance near the top. It had to at least be twenty, maybe thirty feet high, with steps lining all four sides. Moss, vine, fungus, and general erosion had taken it for stars know how long. The cold stone had been made jagged at the edges and smooth at the walls through what must have been centuries of wind and rain. Tiny little holes dotted the surface, with more creeping vines and shrubbery seeping through the cracks. We could also notice scant amounts of insect arcologies having formed.The whole structure had this air of something that was lost to the ravages of time. Something ancient and foreboding that could have only been made complete with a layer of fog to eclipse its majesty.

As our eyes were drawn to the apex, we all breathed a heavy sigh, knowing full well that we were going to be in for a harsh time. Thank goodness we’d had our coffee that morning.

In keeping with my conscientiousness, I decided to pull out the transceiver that the royal engineer gave us to make sure it worked. Examining it, I noticed that it had a relatively simple design. There were buttons on the side and front—presumably for vocal and morse communication, respectively—as well as a dial for changing the frequency and the aforementioned retractable antenna. I assumed in good faith that the engineer had already tuned this thing properly, so, with a deep breath, I pressed the side button.

“Testing, Testing,” I spoke slowly for good measure. “Can you hear me?”

A familiar, hearty laugh returned my signal, almost making it impossible to hear. It was doubtless the voice of the royal engineer.

“Loud and clear!” his enthusiasm was practically seeping from the front speaker. “I assume you’ve made it to the temple?”

“We are,” I looked back to the top. “Looks like it’ll be a heck of a delve, though; I doubt we’ll be able to keep in touch once we’re inside.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured. “Just focus on getting what you can and coming back in one piece.”

“Understood,” I replied. “Wish me luck.”

Following a simple sign off, I pocketed the transceiver and had a few quick stretches to limber up.

“We’ll decide party formation once we reach the top,” I decided, arching my back in one large bend. “For now, let’s get a move on.”

Looking out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Kenta was scrounging around in the foliage nearby.

“What are you doing over there?” I called out.

Without missing a beat, Kenta stopped and dashed up to me, presenting loads of berries, herbs and natural sundry.

"Foraging!" he yapped excitedly. "A good hunter always searches their environment for useful materials and food!”

“Then be quick about it, mutt,” Roughshod grumbled. “We’re here to investigate a temple, not pick flowers and berries.”

Kenta laughed in reply. “You say that now, but just you wait. A little outdoorsmanship never hurts.”

“Whatever you say, happy paws,” Napalm scoffed.

After a few more moments of scrounging, Kenta returned to the party, and we began to make the climb. While we were all in relatively top form, with exception to Roughshod we were all fairly young and spry. Not to mention, given that this structure lacked any sort of protective railing, a single misstep would result in some rather nasty injuries on the way to the bottom.

This, of course, meant that we had to take our time, giving the priest ample time to follow along and keeping our eyes mostly focused on our legs to make sure we weren’t about to trip over ourselves and bust our respective asses—pun somewhat intended. This also meant that the ascent was mostly quiet, as small talk would have also potentially distracted us and set up terror in potentia.

Thankfully, after what felt like at most an hour, we arrived at the top and took a moment to catch our breath.

“Okay—” I huffed, stretching out on the floor in a manner not too dissimilar to that of a housecat, “Here’s how I think we should go.”

I raised pointing fingers to Spike and Nia.

“You two, stick with me, and we’ll be the back team,” I explained. “Roughshod, you, Napalm, and Kenta will be our front group and scout ahead for anything suspicious.”

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Napalm protested. “Why are you sticking me with Dog Breath and Mr. Sunshine here?”

“Because you’re the one with the light source, Kenta has the sharpest senses, and Roughshod’s probably been in enough tombs to recognize trouble when he sees it,” I answered back readily.

“He isn’t bluffing,” Roughshod grunted. “In my day, I delved in pyramids twice the size of this in Saddle Arabia!”

Seeing no counter, Napalm simply crossed her hooves and let out a sigh of acquiescence.

This accounted for, we then took to searching for an entrance, scanning the stones for any alcoves or switches. We carefully dusted the surroundings, and eventually, Kenta proved his senses were of great use by sniffing out a recess in the floor below us. It appeared to be a retracting slab which, to my surprise, Kenta was able to move almost entirely with his strength alone. The rest of us did pitch in, however, to make sure we didn’t disturb whoever might still be inside.

As the stone slab slid out of place, stagnant air and dust poured out, blinding us briefly and giving everyone a generous coughing fit. As we looked down, Spike coiled out a rope ladder and began to fish it down inside the hole, tying the opposing ends to the nearest columns.

“Alright, fillies and gentlecolts,” Spike said, clapping the dust off his hands. “One at a time, lightest first.”

We all shared a quick nod and carefully filed down into the darkness below, Napalm going first and the rest of us going in turn, helping to cushion each other’s descent if we slipped. Once everyone was down, we lit a lantern and noticed the walls within were lined with sconces, presumably to keep the halls alight.

Seeing this, Napalm lit up—metaphorically, that is—at the sight of something she could guiltlessly burn. I waved Spike and Nia to join her, and together with a coordinated blast, the three of them filled the area with torchlight in a matter of seconds. The resulting darkness gave way to a hallway lined with many open spaces that held empty door frames. There may have been proper doors at some point, but there was no evidence to support it beyond some wear on the frame. The hall was wide enough to hold us, but it seemed the only obvious path was a T-shaped intersection at the end. The hall behind us seemed to only go in one path, compared to the fork ahead.

“I’m surprised that these torches still have fuel to burn,” I marveled. “Given the dust about, these halls must not have seen visitors for decades.”

Kenta punctuated this statement by letting out a rather loud sneeze that reverberated against the walls and gave us all pause.

“Sensitive much?” Spike asked, having covered his ears.

“Apologies,” Kenta sniffed. “This sense of smell comes with its downsides.”

Looking upon the wall, we noticed the walls had been lined with carvings. However, instead of what looked to be a written language, it seemed to be mostly pictographs. Familiar bipedal creatures. were sparsely depicted on the walls, but whenever they were, they seemed to be in momentous occasions, like victories in battles against corrupted ponies, demons, and other dark forces.

“Curious, is it not?” Nia pondered aloud. “Whomever made these must have expected company."

Roughshod recoiled at an odor in the air. "The stench of those long gone tells me we shouldn't expect any ourselves."

The lot of us shuddered and pressed on.

"Whatever the case, we should tread lightly," I cautioned.

Everyone gave me a look of confusion, save for Spike and Kenta.

"It's a figure of speech," Spike explained. "He means 'be careful'."

Everyone oohed in understanding and pressed on. I made a mental note to try and use more species-neutral expressions in the future.

Before we began to delve deeper, in keeping with their inner pathfinders, Spike, Nia, and Kenta came upon the idea to make a rudimentary post and attach a length of rope to it. That way, we could easily keep track of our progress and—if the need arose—retrace our steps and try a different route.

Many of the rooms in the hall seemed to be living spaces, with space reserved for beds and bureaus, as well as bookshelves and writing desks. In these rooms there were far less carvings, with what few there were presumably belonging to those who'd lived in them. As for the carvings themselves, they seemed to indicate certain events or gatherings that had happened like meetings of councils and historic battles. As we wandered the halls, we stopped to try and glean meaning from the hieroglyphics.

“If I’m reading these right,” Nia muttered, “then your kin must have been at least before the time of Sombra. Perhaps even before then.”

“You mean when the tribes had only just been formed?” “Spike asked.

“Well, if the myth regarding Megan is to be believed, she ruled as queen in the height of the Empire’s power,” I noted. “So it would be a good bet that our species would have been around at that time as well.”

“Where did you even hear that myth, anyway?” Spike wondered.

“It was a story I found by chance when I was a boy,” I recalled. “I was big on mythology when I was young, and I ended up finding it buried under goodness knows how many other stories.”

Spike chuckled. “I swear, you and Twi would get along great.”

The two of us shared a chuckle as I looked onward. In one section of wall, I saw a group of two-legged figures standing in strings of ponyfolk holding what looked to be a shepherd’s crook. All of them were dressed in robes that obscured their faces. Either that, or the artist could not carve such details into the stone.

“Do you think this is saying that his kin were guides to Ponykind back then?” Nia asked

“The symbolism certainly agrees,” answered Roughshod. “It seems fairly blatant.”

“If that’s true, then why is it there’s so little known about them these days?” Napalm asked back. “Why would whoever carved this go into such detail if no one would remember it?”

“It’s probably the wheel of time working its magic,” Kenta suggested. “You know, memories to legends, legends to myths, and when the time for it to come full circle, no one remembers the myth except those who were there to see it and write it down.”

“If that’s true, then why is it we’re apparently the first people to go into this temple and find its secrets?” I scratched my chin, pondering. “You would think that at least one pony would dare to plumb these depths for the sake of knowledge, even if next to nopony would believe them.”

“You mean like Lyra?” Spike asked. “I hear she’s into this sort of thing.”

I looked back at Spike. “You think she’d be so proactive to try and go alone in a place like this, where no one would be able to find her if she were trapped?”

Spike thought about his statement for a brief moment, then hissed through his teeth when the realization kicked in. “Okay, yeah. That does sound really unlikely.”

Eventually, after passing several rooms with nothing of note in them, we came upon a room with a significantly larger interior. Squared shelves inset in the walls filled with books of unknown purpose greeted us as we entered. The dull hum of machinery rung in our ears as we examined the inside. It looked to be some sort of research facility, in the middle of which there stood what appeared to be a large typewriter—one, I should note, with significantly more keys than the two-button ones mounted inside a column. Above it, a blank window filled with an ethereal void, save for a blinking square and some text describing some arcane mechanism it had been programmed to use. Napalm was amused by the warm glow coming from the machine, her hoof feeling around parts of it to feel its heat while Spike looked to the array of keys with an odd form of familiarity.

“You know, I think I saw a machine like this when Twilight and I went through the mirror,” he noted, holding his chin. “I think I might be able to get this thing to do something for us.”

“We’d best check the room first,” Roughshod peered about with a slight paranoia. “Nothing good can come from fiddling with arcane devices without an understanding of what it’s connected to.”

Nia nodded in agreement. “A sound judgement.”

The lot of us scoured the room for things of use. In the shelves we found technical manuals and strange discs, the bulk of which we handed to Spike for investigation. Posters and papers were plastered on the wall, full of schematics and propaganda of a bygone age lining the majority of them. The two most noteworthy things were a design schematic for some form of mechanical pony, and a nested, pod-shaped apparatus. Dust marred the surface, which Kenta and I wiped off frantically.

Inside was perhaps the most astonishing discovery in this place yet.

Nestled inside the pod was a white mare, her forelegs crossed over her chest. Her mane was a goldenrod affair kept short and simple, and a circular bevel adorned her forehead. On her chest was scaled armor with a large ring-shaped buckle to keep it secure. On her hooves and shoulders were further armored accoutrement, all in remarkably well keep for its age. Springs and gears were discretely placed in the crooks between its knees and elbows, and the glint that came off of her body when light shined upon it suggested that there was more machine than mare to be found here. She seemed to be in rest, as if this thing were her coffin. Looking down, we saw large lengths of cables, all of which seemed to run across the room. Though what power was running through them, where it was coming from, and how it was being generated, was up for debate.

Nevertheless, after poring over the manuals and fiddling with the discs enough to gain a general sense of what he was working with, Spike hailed us over to examine the new display of text that had come upon the screen.

Reading aloud, it appeared the architect of this machine had anticipated scavengers.

“If you seek the contents in this room,” Spike began, squinting his eyes from the monitor’s glaring contrast, “then you must first solve this riddle:

“I am that for which stars are given purpose. I am the will of the ideal, the soul of change asked by those never truly satisfied. I am the hope that adorns the night sky, the dream that sees each passing year go forward. I am that which must be held secret, lest I never get a chance to become real. Futility, Desire, and Aspiration.

“What am I?”

A curious puzzle indeed, thought I. A question like this needed some decent thought behind it, not only to write it, but to solve it.

“A goal?” Napalm asked.

Spike quickly typed out the answer onto the console, but was returned with bold, red text.

“Looks like that’s a no,” he grumbled looking over his shoulder. “Any other ideas?”

“A politician?” Kenta asked back.

Another frenzied series of keystrokes to no avail. “Bupkis.”

Nia took the chance to meditate on the riddle. I admit, I’d not seen her do this since we’d brought her into the party, but I could feel a calmness radiating from her as the rest of us paced about, reading the various books we’d overlooked. Her ability to focus in spite the clutter and tight space was something worth appreciating.

After a healthy amount of rumination, she stood up and cleared her throat.

"The answer is simple, my friends," her voice unerringly calm. "It is describing a wish."

"A wish?" Spike rose an eyebrow. "Why 'a wish'?"

"Think about it," Nia implored. "How many times do we make wishes upon the stars, or when we welcome our birthdays? How often do we wish for something to happen, only for it to never come to be? There's nothing else it could be."

"Good point," Spike nodded along, typing in the answer.

This time, he was greeted by green text instead of red, and his face scrunched in delight.

"Looks like we're in," He chuckled with pride.. "And if I had to guess, this thing's hooked up to that pod. I think it's some kind of security terminal."

"Well go on, then," Roughshod grumbled. "What does it say?"

Spike examined the text closer as we huddled around.

WELCOME, ADMINISTRATOR. LAST KNOWN LOG-IN...NOT FOUND. PLEASE SELECT AN OPTION

RECOMPILE ACTIVITY LOG

DOWNLOAD FILE “SKA.BAT”

ACTIVATE “JUNO”

"Looks like we should be able to get a look inside that thing and see if she still works." I noted, looking over Spike's shoulder."

"After all this time?" Napalm pondered. "Probably not."

"And just what makes you certain it's female? Can machines even have such a thing as gender?" Roughshod asked.

"It has the general design figures of a female," I retorted. "Rounded muzzle, cleanlier fetlocks, smaller frame, things like that."

"Well, whatever the case, we may as well pop the lid," Spike said, making a few strokes to select an option labeled "Activate "Juno"."

"One wonders who would name it Juno," Nia murmured

"Well, whomever made the choice, they had good taste," Kenta commented with a chortle.

The terminal clicked and whirred as further mechanical noises filled the room. The hiss of pressurized air, the thrumming of energy running through the cords, and the creaking of long-unused machinery met our ears as we turned to face the pod. While it had been at a reclined angle on first inspection, it began to level to the floor as the door opened up like a bird's wing. Dust from disuse billowed out into the room, which the lot of us had to fan away before we could take a good look at the mare inside.

Strangely enough, she didn't budge when we released her. We heard no sounds of limbs whirring and buzzing to life, no synthetic voice, no glowing eyes.

"Maybe all this time in holding's got it stuck," Roughshod hummed, tapping his hoof "Maybe we need to give it a nudge?"

"You mean percussive maintenance, right?" Napalm seemed particularly wary. "Because I don't think I wanna go touching that thing."

"I'll do it," I stepped forward, Spike coming near.. "I'm the one who suggested we go into this temple, so it's only fair I stick my neck out for you guys."

Slowly, I crept up to the machine, Spike flanking me as I leaned in to get a closer look. I placed one hand behind the mare's head to elevate, another hand brushing her cheek. I then brought my ear to her chest, hearing only the faintest of ticking.

That should have been my clue that something was still working in this machine. However, moment that truly clued me in what when, as I went to check her forehead, a sharp protrusion not unlike a horn ended up cutting into my skin as it sprang out.

I hissed, holding the wound as I went to Nia and Roughshod.

"Who the heck designed this thing?!" I grunted between my teeth. "It just sprung a horn out of nowhere!"

"Maybe it's defective," Spike suggested.

"That can't be right, though," I refuted. "The thing was ticking when I went to check where its heart might be. It's still got something left."

"Well, whatever it has, it doesn't look keen to show us," Roughshod grumbled. "Best we leave it be for now. If we're lucky, it won't go attacking us later."

"If we're lucky?!" Napalm growled. "That thing could have impaled him!"

"It didn't budge, even when we woke it." Nia leaned in, looking closely at it. "We should be relatively safe."

All eyes turned to the automaton in disbelief. It didn't budge another inch, only falling back into position thanks to gravity.

Kenta huffed, "If that thing starts to chase me with a vacuum, you're going to pay dearly for it."

On that lovely note, we decided to follow Nia's wisdom and leave it be.

***

As we delved deeper inside, we came across a rather large room. Judging by a central carving on the floor upon which light from the sun shone down in a tiny beam to cast a pointed shadow on the floor, this was likely a meeting place, with the middle carving serving as a sundial. Further raised portions of the floor were likely put in place as designations for pillows and other such seating arrangements.

Across the wall, a much larger mural had been carved.

The story, far as we could interpret, was of a time when a darkness descended from the moon. It was not Nightmare Moon, but something more damnably transcendent, which terrorized ancient pony folk like a specter. A shadow of sidereal origin and sinister intent that twisted all it fell over into powerful agents of unspeakable sins. They did not have champions or talismans with which to defend themselves from such nebulous terrors in these ancient days.

That was, until a figure that we believed was Megan, intervened.

Working a great magic that it seemed even the artist had difficulty rendering, she was able to drive the moon-crazed horrors back from whence they came, and the ponies revered her for her power.

It was for this that she was made into a ruler, and it was this that lead to her becoming a queen.

"So this was her first act upon this world," I gasped.

"Real shame the first time we met her, she handed you your ass," Napalm chided.

"She overestimated me!" I snapped. "That was the equivalent of a first-level Fighter against a twentieth-level Magic User. It was an obvious mismatch."

"You're just mad it came to a draw," Napalm nickered.

"There is a saying for such things, Napalm," Nia chimed. "'Even in failure, one can glean knowledge.'"

Kenta nodded in agreement. "When you fall, get right back up. Many a hunt of mine required persistence to succeed. You'll face her again in time, I'm sure."

"I should certainly hope so," I sighed. "You would think that in a place like this, she might also be down here."

"And I would think such folk would be foolish to enter here."

That voice was not from any of us. We looked about the room, trying to see where it had come from before we attempted to find the nearest door out. But, the instant we tried to draw near any of them, they all slammed shut, trapping us in.

"You have wrought great ire by treading on hallowed grounds as these," called the voice. "What gall you should have to bring one of those traitors into this hall like a bunch of common thieves."

"Oh, you want ire?!" Napalm shouted. "Because you can't spell 'fire' without it! Why don't you come out and face us like a man, huh?!"

"You shall know your punishment in due time, intruders," said the voice in return. "For now, know penance as you remain here, caught like flies in a web."

The voice then went silent, and we were left to ourselves.

“Well, that’s just great,” Napalm growled, crossing her hooves in disdain. “We’re boxed in like rats.”

“Maybe not,” Spike hoped. “There must be some way out of here, I’m sure. I’ve gotten out of tighter messes than this before.”

Spike neared one of the doors and crouched down, trying to lift the door out of place. He tried to lift his knees, groaning with strain as he tried to get it to budge. Kenta eventually came to try and aid him, as did I, but no matter how much elbow grease we contributed, it just couldn’t be budged.

“No good,” the dragon groaned, rubbing his wrists. “Looks like we’re in for a long wait.”

The lot of us shared a collective sigh and huddled together.

“At the very least, the light of the sun still reaches us,” Roughshod smiled. “We are safe so long as Her Royal Highness’ divine light graces us.”

Nia chuckled. “I must ask, if don’t mind, why do you treat the sun as something so divine?”

Roughshod croaked out a laugh. “Now that’s a story I haven’t told in ages. That is, if you care to hear it.”

“Nothing better to do,” Kenta woofed.

“Simply put, I was a traveling bard,” he started. “I would go town to town, sharing my pieces with all who cared to hear them. It was a simple life, but it was mine. I was independent, like any jack worth his salt. The songs I sang, the poems I wrote, and the stories I told kept my coinpurse full. I never did stay in one spot, if only because complacency does nothing good for creativity.

“Because I liked to keep my costs low, I kept myself on foot most of the time, only buying provisions for travel on hoof. Perhaps then I was a masochist, or some spoony idealist who wanted to prove he could make a sustainable living as an artist.

“Of course, we all know that the life of an artist on the move is not always profitable or sustainable. That was a harsh lesson I learned when I went off the beaten path.

“On my way to entertain the folks of the recently built Appleoosa, I had grossly underestimated the supplies I’d need to make the journey. I could have taken the train, but I was the type who never was one to do things easily. By the time I was a quarter ways into the San Palomino desert, the sun had gone down. As I’m sure you’re all aware, the desert has a way of going from blindingly hot to blistering cold. I was running low on provisions, and I was sure I wasn’t going to make it through the night. I tried my best to stay warm through the cold, but my hopes were low.

“Bundled under what I could scrounge together, I prayed in my sleep that I would live to see the morrow.

“What luck then, when I awoke the next day, shivering and cold, to see none other than Her Royal Highness cradling me in her wing. I was awestruck to be right by her side, and when I asked her what she was doing there, she told me the words that would inspire me for the rest of my days:

“‘Isn’t it rather silly to walk such a wide road alone?’”

“That was the word she used. Not ‘stupid’ or ‘spoony’ or ‘suicidal’, but silly.

“‘Nopony is an island, all to themselves,’ she kept on. ‘Even when you think you are alone, when you look upon the sky, the sun is always watching. I am she who moves that sun, for it is an extension of me. If you should ever be lost again, look to the sun, as it rises east and sinks west, and you will come to find your way again.’

“With those words, she rose and brought me to Appleloosa personally. From that day onward, I had a muse to keep me going for the rest of my years.

“While I told the others the rest of my story long ago, it is worth recalling for posterity. With my newfound purpose, eventually I put down roots in a small town that seemed relatively out of the way, from which I spoke the gospel of our princess. I did not see her as a deity; rather, I championed her ideals, teaching people about the importance of the sun and what it could do for others. I saw myself as a bringer of light to darkened hearts, and the ponies loved me for it.

“Of course, as is the case with any faith, there was discord. However, where most disputes of philosophy are rather peaceful, in the times before her return, those who had faith in Luna were...adamant, to speak politely of them.

“It was a quiet night; the moon was full, the stars were bright and beautiful, and I was certain that there would be peace. Then, like hunters, moon-crazed lunatics attacked my home. They wanted none of my preaching, and ravaged my cozy house like savages. Barely anything was left of that place when they were done.”

Roughshod pulled out the piece of quartz he showed to me previously.

“This was one of the few things I managed to take with me,” he said in a somber tone. “From the day I lost my home, I made it a mission of mine to find the men who did this injustice and exact just punishment upon them. But, in this older age of mine, that goal may as well be meaningless.”

Roughshod then smiled, his frog-like mouth curling up. “But, so long as I can bring the song and light that inspires others, I can live what remains of my life happily.”

The lot of us were awestruck. While I had heard a snippet of Roughshod’s time before meeting us, none of us had heard his story in full. Spike had a tear in his eye, and Kenta seemed to just curl up. Even Napalm, as hot-blooded as she seemed, took a moment of silence.

“And what of you, Nia?” Roughshod asked the zebra. “I am not unfamiliar to Zebra theology, but I’d like to hear a little about your faith.”

“My faith is a simpler story to tell,” Nia chortled. “Lance in particular knows it most well.”

I felt a blush come upon me and placed a hand behind my head.

“To put it simply, my culture is more of an animist one,” she explained. “To us, everything has a spirit, and we invoke that spirit through masks and rituals. Of course, switching masks in the middle of a combat is not always practical. When I underwent training under Dejen, he taught me that there were other ways to evoke spirits and gods beyond ritual and rite. Through evoking aspects of them through my stances and techniques, I found in myself a greater harmony that allowed me to harness their power seamlessly.

“It is that same teaching I have been passing onto Lance, for it may be more intuitive and personal than tomes and tutors.”

I smiled, crossing my legs. “I’ve been enjoying it, I know that much.”

A silence came upon us then. Kenta tried pawing at the walls and floor for a switch, but to no avail. We had told our stories, becoming more familiar with each other, and now with nothing else to tell, the room simply grew quiet.

I looked inside my pack, retrieving the regalia Luna had given me.

“It’s funny,” I remarked. “I don’t think I’ve put these on since I was given them. I guess, since we’re headed into unknown territory, I should probably start getting used to wearing them.”

Resolute, I placed my diadem upon my head, strapping my gloves on.

Napalm chuckled. “Lookin’ real princely, there.”

“Just remember, kid,” Spike reminded me. “It’s not just wearing the crown that matters; it’s what you do beneath it.”

“I feel that may be important later.” I nodded.

The doors opened again, and our eyes were drawn to a pony whose appearance was equally familiar and alien to us all.

The pony was a unicorn mare of pink coat, purple eyes and white mane. She reminded Spike and I of Twilight, but the cutie mark was a cluster of six stars. She carried a gravitas of someone who had been in this place for longer than most of us could count, and it reflected in the way her eyes had sunken and her posture had firmed. With each step, the atmosphere got ever colder and more somber.

“You have some nerve to traipse around such sacrosanct ground,” the pink mare said, staring me in the eye. “To think that your kin were so loyal to us in days of old, and now one of you is so callous to try and claim what little you didn’t take with you when you left us to fend for ourselves.”

I held my arms up in surrender.

“Miss, I have no idea what you’re referring to!” I shouted in defense. “My party only recently entered this temple, and we were led to believe it was abandoned!”

“And that gives you the right to loot it like common thieves?!” she shouted back. “I’ve half a mind to reduce you to a burn mark across the floor! What is your name and business here? Answer me!”

“You wanna talk burns, lady?!” Napalm barked, coming between us. “You touch him, you’re getting toasted like flatbread!”

The unicorn scoffed. “A black-lip like you, stand a chance against me? Such foolish bravado.”

The lot of us gave the unicorn a cross look. Well, not exactly cross—it was actually more confused anger. Given the context, we assumed it was meant to be a slight about a non-unicorn casting magic.

Whatever the case, Napalm wasn’t going to have it, and let slip a thunderous roar as she lobbed a bolt of flame at the unnamed unicorn. However, with professional ease, the unicorn raised a forward barrier, the bolt whisking off like a deflected bullet.

The mare smiled as she walked towards Napalm.

“Appreciable power but pitiful performance,” she yawned. “Such is the folly of one who tries to grasp an art never meant for them.”

Napalm’s infuriation was practically steaming as this Twilight look-alike approached me.

“And now, we come to you,” she sneered, looking me dead in the eyes. “What delusions have they imparted upon you, child, that makes you think yourself a king?”

“Awfully coy of you to assume such a thing,” Roughshod muttered.

“Don’t test me, ass!” the unicorn snapped before returning her attention to me. “Your name and business, now.”

I kept my hands up, clearing my throat.

“I go by Lance, miss,” I answered. “My group and I came here to research what may be my culture, and to investigate rumors about an airship of some sort.”

The mare who was decidedly not Twilight grimaced. “So you are here to steal not only material goods, but appropriate a long-past culture?”

“Miss, we didn’t come here as thieves,” Nia interjected. “If you would give us your name, we would be happy to negotiate.”

Not-Twilight gave Nia a cross leer. “I do not negotiate with traitors and trespassers.”

“If this has something to do with something people of my kin have done to you in the past, I am sorry,” I said, “I can’t, however, apologise for sins when I myself have no context of when or why they were committed..”

“Of course you can’t,” Not-Twilight snapped. “But ignorance of your transgressions is not absolution.”

The unicorn looked very threatening as its sharp, gleaming horn pointed at me. Spike’s eyes went wide, and before I registered it, he dove to shield me from a blast of eldritch force. I attempted to replicate the tomb-keeper’s feat, remembering the episode with Nia, but the blast was too powerful to dissipate, and it sent the both of us on our butts from the sheer power of it.

“Oh how cute,” she cooed. “The lean, mean dragon dove to save his dear friend. How valorous. However, that makes you an accomplice, as it does for the rest of you. I will exact just punishment on you all.”

“I think that is quite enough justice dealt, Twilight Twinkle.”

All eyes turned to the doorway, revealing that Megan had somehow found her way in. The lot of us gaped at the sight of her return, the weight of her power becoming more apparent. Flanking her, to further surprise us, was the machine pony we had previously activated. Her outfit hadn’t changed much from the previous encounter with her, but she had traded her corseque for a gnarled wooden staff topped with a violet crystal.

“You are endangering one of my own, Twilight,” she warned, the staff glimmering with arcane light. “He comes here seeking only knowledge and a means to reach that knowledge.”

“Really now, dear Traitor Queen?” Twilight asked. “And what authority do you have to stop me? What proof do you have that renders this child innocent? What makes him one of yours?”

After a few whirs and beeps from the mechanical mare, she stepped forward.

“These two share a similar genetic code,” explained the golem, walking towards me. “However, compared to the other genetic samples I have stored in my collection, this one is fairly recent.”

Megan crossed her arms. “In layman’s terms, assuming the age of this unit, he could not have been around during the events for which you hold him responsible.” She walked behind me, her left arm wrapping around my shoulders. “He came here seeking culture and a means to reach further culture. Had he been informed you were still among the living, he likely would have asked.”

Twilight’s mouth scrunched. “But..” After a few half-formed syllables, she stamped her hoof in consternation, now having been made aware of her own failings. “If that is true, then I apologize. However, if you are serious in your intent, I would like to offer an accord with you.”

Spike held out his hands in disbelief. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. After nearly trying to kill us, now you’re apologizing and wanting to make a deal?”

Twilight pointed a hoof to me. “If it means allowing this one a chance to understand his lineage and the things it has done, then yes.” She motioned with her head to guide us along the halls this time, paying little mind to the inscriptions as she lead us through the winding passageways. “In exchange for your word of honor and the promise to fulfill my favor, you will be given my full pardon, and the use of the airship you were asked to find by your employer.”

A few minutes walking gave way to what amounted to a frankly massive hangar. Fiddling with some indentations on the walls, Twilight brought light into the room, flicking a switch upon the wall and blinding us with a huge white flash before awing us with the sheer magnitude of the ship inside.

Looking at it, it was a purple galleon, accented with blues and violets on the trims to the bow and stern. Along the sides and the mast at the stern were yellow-green sails that looked somewhat like wings from a dragon. Its two most striking features, however, were the strange ring shape surrounding the base and a figurehead of some winged biped clad in a robe that covered all but her hands, feet, and face.

Twilight beamed with the pride of a true aeronaut.

“Fillies, gentlecolts, and others,” she declared, letting her inner showgirl out in her voice. “I present to you the Mysterious Melissa. Or as some prefer to call it, the ‘Missy Lissy’.”

We had to take a few moments to let the full majesty of this ship sink in. While the rest of us picked up our jaws, Nia smiled.

“It is a beautiful ship indeed,” she sighed. “And what is this favor we should heed?”

Twilight Twinkle smiled. “It is simple, I promise.” She approached me, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “I’m certain it goes without mention, but this is not the only temple of this sort out there,” she said in a matter-of-factly manner. “There are at least three others. Each of them has one of my compatriots.” She approached the yet-unnamed machine mare. “They also likely house a terminal which this one can access. I don’t know what remains in them, but the folk of my time had suggested they may lead to wherever your kin fled to.”

I swear that my heart lurched into my throat at the notion of my kin potentially having a more lasting presence.

“What I want you to do,” she concluded with professional poise, “Is to visit these temples in as systematic a manner as possible, visit my compatriots, and collect the rest of the data from the terminals. What you do from there is your business, but I should hope you share your findings with the world.”

Megan cracked a small smile. “I’m sure he would be happy to lend his aid,” she said, patting my back. “It’s been a long time since our kin has seen the shores of Equestrian folk. Perhaps we’ll soon see a day of peace.”

“We may see it soon indeed,” Twilight agreed. “But it should not come without remembrance of the past. You should know of the times that came before you, so that you do not repeat them in the future.”

I nodded. “I’ll try my best, Miss Twinkle,” I said, shaking her hoof. “I plan to head for the Griffon Kingdoms first; I have diplomatic business there, and if one of these alleged temples is there, I would be happy to investigate for you. Do you have a general idea of where I should look?”

Ms. Twinkle—as I shall henceforth refer to her, for the sake of differentiating her from the one we are familiar with—shook her head.

“I couldn’t tell you for certain,” she lamented. “All I know in relation to that region is that the closest temple the Shepherds built in that region was nestled into the Highlands; you would have to find it yourself.” Her expression perked up slightly with cautious optimism. “But, the temples were all built in accordance to a standard design, so you should be able to spot it without much trouble.”

“And what about little miss tick-tock here?” Napalm asked, pointing to the robot pony. “If we’re gonna be taking her along, we’re gonna need her name.

“My designated name is Juno,” the machine replied, her tone cold and disjointed. “I was given that name to reflect my purpose as a companion and protector.”

Then, as an attempt to display trust, Juno wrapped herself around me in an embrace, apparently unknowing of just how tightly she was gripping onto me.

“I promise to keep you safe for as long as I am operational,” she continued, grasping me ever tighter. “From this point, I defer to your judgement as my master.”

I tried to choke out a cry for help, but the most I could do was flail my limbs and bang on her chassis in attempt to convey the message to her. Thankfully, whomever constructed her made her intelligent enough to register this signal, and she quickly released me.

“Apologies, Master,” she said, looking down, the spot on her forehead glowing a soft green. “I will reassess my parameters for future displays of affection. Do you require medical attention?”

I shot up as quickly as I could, crossing my arms in disapproval. “I’m fine, I swear!”

Juno’s eyes lit up, and her horn sprung out again, this time bathing me in a ray of light before whirring to herself a few times. “Chance of lie, fifteen percent. Conclusion, Master is stable.”

“I’ll be sure to introduce you to the others when we’re topside.” I groaned as I got up, holding my back at the hip. “I thank you for your boons, Miss Twinkle. I’ll see to it that they remain in serviceable condition when I return them.”

Miss Twinkle waved her hoof dismissively. “Keep them; I’ve no use for either of them these days. The gesture is appreciated, however.”

“And yourself?” I asked with concern. “Surely you could come along with us and see the world? Goodness knows how long you’ve been down here.”

Miss Twinkle kept her dismissive gesture. “I’m afraid I cannot follow you. I have been in this place for too long to leave it. Perhaps another day.”

Megan looked upon the ship for a moment, laying her hand on the cheek of the figurehead before returning to us.

“Well, now that all that is sorted,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, “You lot should really be going.”

I reached out my arm. “But I have so many questions, now!”

“And those questions will be answered in due time,” she promised, her tone calm and restrained. “Right now, you have business elsewhere. When you are not busy, I’ll be happy to explain.”

My lips drooped in a frown. While I knew full well she was right to remind me of my duties, being denied answers to the things that kept me up many a sleepless night certainly discounted my morale. Unfortunately, I could do nothing about it; needs of the many and all that.

“I promise, I’ll tell you what I know soon,” Megan placed a hand on my shoulder, retaining that almost motherly mannerism as her staff cast a brighter pink light. “For now, I’ll do you this kindness.”

Before I could ask what she meant, the world around us blinked out of view, and with a shower of pink sparkles, we were outside the temple, ship and all now lying in the grass. Everyone—with exception to Megan and Juno—was thrown off-kilter by the sudden displacement, stumbling as we attempted to regain our bearings. As I looked to Megan, she appeared practically unfazed. From what I learned in my academy training, mass teleportation was an often exhaustive power thought only possible by unicorns of Starswirl the Bearded’s caliber.

And yet, this maiden, whom I knew only in myth and name, managed such a feat as if it were second-nature. She didn’t even seem winded by it! From where did she have this wellspring of power, I wondered to myself.

Perhaps taking advantage of my pondering, Megan was already near the edge of the woods when I returned my attention to her.

“Just a moment, please!” I reached out to try and grab her shoulder. “When can I expect to see you?”

“You’ll see me when the time is right,” she waved a hand in farewell, her eyes focused on the road. “Neither too early nor too late; When next we meet, we’ll set a few things straight.”

And then, as mysteriously as she appeared, she vanished into the space between the trees, like the passing of a storm. We all spent a few moments trying to find her, with nary a trace of her to be found.

“It appears the female has dispersed,” Juno reported. “Thaumaturgical residue remains, but the reading is too faint to trail. Conclusion: Subject has fled the area.”

Spike held his face in his palm. “Thanks for the analysis, Neighmax.” He then turned to me. “So what do we do now?”

“Only one thing left to do, Spike.” I smiled, reaching into my pack for the transceiver. I checked to make sure it was still in tune before activating it again. “Situation Report—Investigation successful. Ancient technology has been confirmed. We have a queerly-designed airship and what appears to be a pony gynoid in our custody. Additionally, we can confirm the temple has at least one living occupant, whom appears to be...temporally displaced, to put it politely.”

“Oh ho ho, that’s wonderful news!” The shrill, hearty laughter from the engineer was loud enough to drown the speaker out. “I’ll be there in about thirty minutes to inspect the findings.”

“We’ll be looking forward to it.” I smiled, glad to see some fruitful progress. However, in the interest of getting at least one pressing question answered, a thought struck. “Before you get your things sorted, could I ask your name?”

“Certainly, my boy!” Slightly more subdued laughter filtered through the speaker. “You can call me Kintobor.”

A warmness filled in my heart as I held the transceiver closer to my face. “Charmed.”

I had a distinct feeling things were starting to look up for us. Seeing the sky clear and blue, the sun shining kindly above us, with another helpful asset in our ranks, certainly helped in that department.

I suppose it would be a forgone conclusion to say that the sky's the limit.