Hand in Hoof

by AdamThePony

Chapter 19: The Garden and the Duel

Chapter 19: The Garden and the Duel

If there is one thing that I'd learned from my episode in Griffonstone, it was that there could be good value in cultivating a good rumor. Even if there wasn't a grain of truth to it, having a reputation that kept people on their toes made for a useful persona to wear in the grand masquerade called politics.

As I stood at the bow of the Mysterious Melissa, wind billowing my scarlet ensemble and mountain air filling my lungs, I was ready to see what the next temple had to offer me. I spent some time with Juno and Kenta making sure that my weaponry was all in working order; it would've been a terrible shame if I was caught half-cocked, after all.

Kenta whistled with surprise. “Those griffons pack some impressive firepower,” he said with an eager grin as he examined Grendal and its associated paraphenalia. “Can't wait to give that bullet mold some work and see that this baby get some action.”

“Ideally, I shouldn't have to use it,” I reminded Kenta with a frown. “While I've been trained in arms like these, I've never had something of quite this type on my person.” I picked the handgun back up, making sure the safety was on. “Given our reception last time, I'm certain it won't come to that.”

Juno nodded in agreement. “Given the space of the previous structure, it would be unwise to discharge firearms inside,” she noted, examining one of the bullets with a careful eye. “If I’m correct in my ballistics knowledge, the chance of ricochet against the walls could result in unwanted self injury.”

Napalm joined us a moment later. “At least you can clear a good path with it,” she said, making a hoof-gun gesture. “Anypony hears a piece like that crack off, they'll go all helter-skelter away from it.”

“That may come in handy for our next stop.” I reviewed the map to make sure of the course. “We'll be heading for minotaur territory. Given the stories I've heard, bravado and brawn are the order of the day.”

Napalm scoffed. “Like those rock-hard abs could stop a shot to the heart.”

“Again, I should hope it doesn't come to that,” I insisted, holstering the weapon to my hip. “I've shed enough blood already, and I don't aim to spill any more.”

“Whoa now, big boy.” Napalm took a step back. “Didn't mean to hit a nerve.”

“Don't worry about it.” Kenta walked over to reassure Napalm. “It was just too soon to say things like that.”

Napalm rubbed her leg, her purple cheeks flaming red as she offered her hoof. “Sorry about that,” she mumbled, “I guess I forgot about what happened earlier.”

I took Napalm's hoof, holding in both hands. “It wasn't your fault, Napalm. I'm just not quite over it, is all.”

“Ain't nothin' to be ashamed of,” said Kenta, paw to my back. “Just gotta keep on keepin' on.”

I hung onto Napalm's hoof for a little while, taking a deep breath and a good look at my friends. For a few moments, I focused simply on breathing and steadying myself. Then, I let go, holding a hand to my chest. “You're right,” I said, turning to face the bow again. “I just need to keep moving forward. We're making good time.”

Kenta slapped my back a couple of times. “Atta boy.”

The clouds were coming in thin fleets of white and grey strips. It wasn't storm weather, but the grouping seemed like an omen. I swore that I could see a faint black-and-blue streak darting between them like lightning. Juno might have seen it too, had she not been scanning the ground for our target. I followed it as it zipped about, curious as to what it was as it disappeared inside each cloud like a specter. Whether it was simply the prelude to a storm or the work of an enigmatic entity, I was gripped by the way it moved. I had to have my sense restored by Roughshod's walking stick knocking against my knee before I started climbing over the railing.

“Eyes on the prize, lad,” Roughshod groused. “Whatever's caught your eye, save it for when we land.”

“Whatever it is, Roughshod,” I replied, pointing out to where I last saw it, “it moves like no lightning I've ever seen. It jumps from cloud to cloud, not in arcs, but in sharp angles.”

Nia's nickering could be heard from the stern. “It sounds like the work of a thunderbird,” she whickered in her whimsical way. “A phoenix of storms, or so I've heard.”

“They're native to places like these,” Kenta added. “Tend to live in high mountains flush with ore. They say before the pegasi learned to command storms, they used them like falcons to seed the clouds with electricity.”

“They certainly move fast,” I noted, hand to my brow to get a closer look. “Oh, the things we could do if we had one.”

“Pah! Good luck with that one,” Roughshod spat. “Thunderbirds are just as temperamental as their infernal cousins, if not moreso. Only way you're getting a hand on one of them is if you're fast enough to reach it.”

However impossible it seemed, I never kept my eyes far from the magnificent creature. “It's a real work of beauty,” I said, waving to it. “Truly to command such a capricious creature would be a feat worthy of legends.”

Kenta shrugged his shoulders. “They say unattainable dreams can be the best kind.”

“That said, you've a good point,” I replied, looking down over the bow. “Let's keep our sights on what's properly in our reach.”

“We're approaching the temple now.” Juno called, pointing to an off-green formation on the mountain. “It appears to be veiled by the foliage.”

As we looked to where Juno was pointing, we almost couldn't see it ourselves. The temple wore a cape of trees and shrubs, cloaking itself from casual eyes. It was only when we approached it that its true nature was revealed. Unlike the last temple, where simple vines and shrubs had grown, this temple was practically a hanging garden with how much life teemed from its ledges. As we made our way down, the life of this place seemed to swallow us like a gaping maw of Mother Nature. When we landed, trees hovered over our heads, toadstools tickled our heels, and ferns fondled our feet. A fantastic menagerie of verdant vegetation surrounded us, and an aura of life radiated from the top, stairs pointing the way forward.

“This is conspicuously well-kept,” Roughshod noted. “Almost too well-kept for an ancient temple.”

“Either this mountain range sees a lot of water,” I mused, examining the leaves, “or whomever or whatever lives here is a tireless gardener.”

Nia took a closer look at the plants, pawing at the soil and taking of the leaves. “The plants appear as old as the temple. They might be transplants. Something certainly feels off about them, with the way their life force ebbs and flows..”

Spike's jaw gaped. “All of this?” He couldn't quite believe his eyes. “It can't just be one pony that did all this. That'd probably take ages!”

“To someone with time enough for all the pleasures of the world, it can be a perfect exercise.”

The lot of us turned to the new entrant to our conversation. It was Megan again, as statuesque and collected as ever. She'd dressed a bit warmer this time, dressed in a similar kit to what I'd seen her in when we'd first made her acquaintance. The look in her eyes as she observed the temple was something between glazed and misty, scant images of memories long past floating in the haze.

“You're a real piece of work, you know that?” Napalm said, pointing a jabbing hoof at the mage. “How'd you get here so much earlier than us?”

“It's as Starswirl had once said,” Megan replied, kneeling down. “A great mage is neither early nor late; they arrive at just the moment they need to.”

“It must have taken you at least a few days, aye?” Roughshod said with a scratch of his chin. “Ain't exactly foal's play to scale these peaks.”

Megan shook her head with a daring smirk as she let her staff rise in the air. “Then you know little of what a great mage can do. If you wish to speak of foal's play, then my previous act of kindness would certainly qualify.”

Juno scanned about, awfully confused for a robot. “Then how did you know where to find us? Why didn't you tell us where it was?”

Oddly for her, Megan chuckled. It wasn't the kind of chuckle of a typical humor, but one that invited ever further mystery.

“If I told you that,” she chided, “then it would spoil the wonder of finding it yourselves.”

It was at that point I reached for my nearest weapon and approached her.

“I'm sure you didn't just wait here to exchange philosophy,” I told her, giving her a steely eye. “You and I have an obligation, do we not?”

Megan held her chin with a smirk. “Oh, that's right,” she said, checking her blade and wiping it clean of dust. “I'm certain Master Nia's taught you well?”

I drew my own blade in response, giving my joints a good stretch as I took off my overwear. “We'll certainly have to see about that, won't we?”

“My, if that isn't an intriguing new persona,” Megan purred, running her fingers through her hair. “You wear a look of confidence well.”

“Things in Griffonstone kinda needed him to do that,.” Spike scratched the spines on his neck. “Long story.”

Megan smiled. “You'll certainly have to regale me once we're done,” she said as she pointed her blade at me. “We'll go with the same rules as before; if you can't counter my magic, then I will fight you at arms alone. Duel me to at least a draw, and I'll guide you through the temple.”

I drew my blade, holding it aloft. “How very generous of you.”

“May I adjudicate this duel?” Juno interjected, beaming with curiosity.

Megan gave a more good-humored chuckle this time, her mask appearing to slip little by precious little more. “If you believe it will make things fairer, than so be it.”

Megan pointed to a spot with her staff where Juno could watch from up close. Once in position, she willed a similar dome of a boundary around us, neither blinking nor breaking a sweat. Once formed, the two of us held our blades to our chest, fullers to our foreheads before crossing them in salutation. Then, with a deft hop, the two of us made for opposite edges of the arena, polearm in one hand and staff in the other.

Unlike our prior bout, neither of us dared to make first contact. Instead, we paced ourselves, circling the arena and sizing each other up with suspicious eyes. Every twitch one of us made with our weapons caused the other to twitch in turn, and our footing altered ever so slightly, heels and toes finding purchase in the rich soil.

“Neither of them's made a move,” Napalm whispered. “You'd think one of them would take a swing by now.”

Nia shook her head. “There's more to a duel than the clash of metal and sinew; many duels start this way. Only a fool would rush in so brazenly.”

“The same can be said of hunts,” Kenta added, looking intently upon our display. “Two predators circling one another, waiting for that right opportunity to pounce.”

“In a way, a duelist plays two separate games,” Nia summarized. “The physical game that everyone else sees, and the mental game that only they behold.”

I kept my senses focused on Megan, clearing my head of distracting thoughts and pooling my energies into my extremities. My sword hand drifted downward while my spear remained steady. A whispered mantra went unheard, and my stance became wide.

Then, with barely a thought passing between us, our polearms met at the tip. Crystal and metal crashed against one another with a ring like a wind chime. Our hair whipped ahead of us, and our edges sheared away the slightest strands of our respective manes as we followed through. Then, like a crab vice, I brought my blade inward with a jerking twist.

But, being more clever than myself, Megan brought her own blade against mine, tangling us into a deadlock within moments. Muscles quaked and squeezed, blades grinding edge to edge as we stared each other down with almost feral eyes. She seemed certain she could press an advantage, but hadn't accounted for one of the dangers of our proximity, which was quickly announced by a swift drive of my knee into her gut.

Megan reeled back, coughing out a choked breath before striking her staff against the ground. Cracks formed in the earth, and as before, shoots of stone snaked up, intent on skewering me. A shame she didn't know someone had used that attack against me before, because it presented a perfect riposte. With a sharp slide, I drove my elbow into one of the pillars, sending my own spike of stone out at her. Just as it came inches to her chest, she brought the butt of her sword down upon it, splintering it into harmless pebbles at her feet before sweeping them up and kicking them out at bullet-like speed.

Thought acting before movement, I reared my barrier up to deflect the shots, cringing as the shrapnel very nearly nicked me.

“Impressive form!” Megan cheered, hopping in place. “Nearly knocked the breath from me!”

I smirked, still keeping my barrier aloft. “You left yourself open for that one.”

“Can't argue with that.” Megan wiped the sweat from her cheek. She waggled her sword at me, turning her right hip to meet my left. “Let's see if you can do more than counterattack.”

I held my weapons together in a cross, my blade making a terrible screech as it ground against the shaft of my spear. “I assure you that I can do more than that.”

Using the bottom of the spear, I traced a line in the dirt. My foot made a small divot, making an angled patch that I eyed carefully. A few brief calculations later, and I slipped my sword back into its scabbard. Taking a grip like a spade, I drove the spear into the spot in the ground, sending a great chunk of earth flying up like a big disk. Then, holding the spear in both hands, I lunged forth, knocking the disk into Megan's direction with a heavy crack.

Megan didn't find my display very amusing. Without even blinking, she wheeled around with the ball of her foot, knocking the disk clean out of the air with a heavy drop of her heel, reducing it to rubble with a single strike.

“Was that really your best effort?” she chided. “Surely you can muster more than that, now.”

I let out a nervous chuckle. While I felt a little proud of having pulled it off, seeing my technique so quickly countered was a damper on my confidence. “Of course I can!” I shouted, dragging my boot in the dirt. “I just need a moment to think.”

“Then you'd best think fast,” Megan warned. “bBecause your enemies won't leave you time to think.”

Scratching my boot against the soil did give me another idea. I made a decent line in the dirt, testing the give that the ground had with my feet. The topsoil was easy to spread, the act of kicking it up with my toes making a decent amount of dust. This in mind, a stroke of inspiration struck me.

I dragged my foot out with one big jerk, sifting up a huge cloud of dust. Once the cloud was heavy enough to obfuscate my person, I focused my mental energies towards my spear, gathering the gaseous earth together to a point at the blade and spreading it lengthwise. Soon, the simple spear had become a terrifyingly hafted pole of stone, the head now more resembling a sword than a spear.

With this new weapon at the ready, I charged forth, taking far more daring swings and lunges. The added weight of my trickery forced me to adopt a more deliberate style, using it to carry me around the arena and press an offensive. However, my less encumbered opponent was ahead of me with every swing, either trying to redirect it towards me or stopping it outright with her bracers. Not single drop of sweat left her, but her groans of effort told me I was giving her a considerable challenge.

“An improviser, I see,” Megan observed between breaths. “I can tell by your technique; even under a master, you're still an autodidact.”

I rose an eyebrow in between jabs and slashes. “You can tell just by looking at me?”

It was then that with a quick lunge that Megan managed to truly land the first strike of the duel. A flash of her spear cut a quick, biting wound to my cheek, as unassuming as the one that was made on my brow. Odd thing, cuts to the cheek; no matter how shallow the cut, there's sure to be a curtain of blood leaking out, like a papercut. While it stung to keep moving, it wasn't debilitating by any means. If anything, it was motivational marking.

“You're holding back,” Megan noted as she kept me in her iron dance. “You've not used that new toy of yours this whole duel.”

“It's not exactly sporting, is it?” I asked as I exchanged weapons, taking the pistol in my good arm and my sword in the off-hand like a parrying dagger. “There's a reason the phrase 'don't bring a knife to a gun fight' exists.”

“Honor is a worthy notion,” she replied, letting a fire ball up in her hand. “But it's best saved for a battle of equals. When your life is at stake, every advantage matters.”

I frowned at Megan's comment, practical as it was. I didn't have time to form a counterargument, however, as a volley of flame screamed at me like a firework. With short hops and even shorter-lasting disk shields, I was forced into a corner that it was hard to get out of.

“You're real cheeky, you know that?” I sniped, raising my gun. “But since you insist, I may as well humor you.”

Oh, how hopelessly out of my depths I was. As I'd established before, I wasn't particularly proficient in firearms like these. But, when you're in the heat of combat, you tend not to be so concerned about that sort of problem. So, keeping an eye on the iron sights, I took aim at Megan's blasts, firing off a couple of my own.

It as at this point that I regretted not giving the gun a test fire before I landed. Not because it jammed, mind you; revolvers tend to be less prone to that. No, instead I hadn't prepared my arm for the recoil, and very nearly had the barrel smashing into my nose. So now, here I was, with two less bullets and a lot more embarrassment than I'd started with.

“I take it you're not used to gryphon firearms?” Megan couldn't help but giggle. “Perhaps I should be merciful and declare our battle a tie for fairness' sake.”

“You think I can't win this?” I folded my arms rather crossly. “I'm not entirely defenseless, you know.”

“But neither are you entirely at my level, boy.” Megan leaned into me with a softer look in her eyes as she produced a rag to clean my new wound. “Still, it was an admirable showing this time. Not the most drastic improvement, but you lasted a little longer than I'd expected. My advice is to seek out some further arcane texts to reference and experiment from there.”

“Your advice is appreciated, professor.” I grumbled, wincing as she cleaned the cut. “So you're ready to see us into the temple now?”

“I'm a woman of my word.” With a flick of her wrist, the rag disappeared. “Follow me, you lot; I'll show you around to the spots of interest.”

“As you wish,” Spike replied, coming to one side of me as Juno came to the other. “Let's hope we don't run into any trouble.”

“With a girl like that leading the way?” Napalm scoffed. “We've got this.”

“I wouldn't be so confident,” Roughshod warned. “Pride precedes a fall, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Napalm said, waving her hoof dismissively. “We've been through this kind of thing a few times by now.”

“It does not do harm to be wary,” Juno reminded us. “Let us keep our eyes peeled.”

The temple here has far easier to enter. With a few whispered words in a tongue I couldn’t quite spell out clearly enough, a portion of the stairs gave way, and a door slid upwards. As we were guided inside, we were greeted promptly by further pictographs. Unlike the ones in Twilight's temple, which depicted a general history of my kin's interaction with ponies, these had depicted them with farming implements, guiding strings of earth ponies across the wheat.

“As you can see here,” Megan began, lighting the sconces as she passed, “our kind was of great help to the early days of agriculture for ponykind. Because they lacked many prehensile limbs, they were originally grazers, eating whatever they could find. We lent them our hand, showing them the techniques and tools that would later inspire them to create farms and crops.”

“Guess that explains where things like plows and and pitchforks came from,” Spike mused, holding his chin. “But what about forging the heads? How'd you get them into metallurgy?”

“Ah, metallurgy,” Megan replied, waxing nostalgically. “They had a trying time coming to grips with it, but with our help, they soon came to have tools and molds of their own from which to cast iron.”

“That's all well and good,” I said, awestruck at the meticulous design and amazing keep of the stone-etched artwork, “But if my—or rather, our—kin were so important, where did they go? What happened to them?”

“An answer for another time, I'm afraid.” Megan replied, hanging her head. “The history of our kin is long, and our time short.”

“You know, you sound really cryptic when you talk like that,” I groaned. “I appreciate the sentiment of learning all this at a steady pace, but this tight-lippedness of yours is making my curiosity bore its way out of my head.”

“Knowledge is something best appreciated in small doses,” Nia hummed. “Perhaps the elder one is taking things slowly so that your mind has time to process the information.”

I ran my fingers through my hair with mild irritation. Megan simply shrugged it off, leading us into a room similar in design to the laboratory we'd seen in the last temple The dome-like structure and fairly sterile space. However, where there might have been bookcases and brass, we saw shelves and seeds. Several jars filled with soil and seeds lined the walls. With mirror-sheened pipes and fabricated sunlight spread across the ceiling, it resembled a greenhouse, but neither green glass nor burning sun stretched over our heads. Fruits as dark as ash and as light as the summer sky eyed us, along with fungus pale as the moon that cast a ghastly presence when observed. Even the particularly leafy plants that looked like fairy fabric seemed both inviting and foreboding. The smell of citrus and dew gave the room a much more lively feel to the room.. The meticulous amount of care and upkeep made it abundantly certain of one of two things: either there was someone here still among the living, or that someone had made great pains to ensure that things persisted after their death.

“This all stinks of suspicion, lads,” Roughshod grumbled, taking a leery eye of the place.

“Smells more of pollen, to me,” Kenta coughed, just barely avoiding a sneeze.

“Might as well get to the elephant in the room, then,” Spike said as he neared what looked to be a terminal hermetically sealed in plastic, cracking his knuckles as he did so.

“One wonders what riddle awaits us now,” Nia pondered aloud.

Swiftly, Spike set to work, his fingers dancing across the keyboard. The familiar glow of green text on a black void greeted us quickly, showering us with a flood of words and prompts that were arcane to all but Juno's eyes.

“This operating system must be GNU,” she observed, cocking her head. “Almost entirely terminal-based, no package manager or GUI. This machine must act as a form of scientific server.”

“Thanks for that, Juno,” I replied flatly. “Sadly, all of it is lost on me.”

“Apologies, master,” Juno sighed. “It's still fun to learn, isn't it?”

I smiled and scratched Juno between the ears. “I wouldn't mind learning more. For now, let's focus on the more immediate dilemma.”

“Right,” Spike replied, clearing his throat. “Says here--'Seeker of the secrets left by those long before, you must be tested for your knowledge of agricultural lore. The next key to the ancient puzzle lies in a name, though it is often confused with one of slightly greater fame.'

“'I am the fruit which bore the first temptation, though I've sewn no disarray between nations. While left alone, I'm perfectly peaceful, tear me apart, and I become most dreadful. My first great boon was the time of growth, but my other gifts were prosperity to the newly living and protection to the long dead.

“What am I?”

“It could be an apple,” Napalm replied. “I know vampire fruit bats were tempted by them.”

Roughshod stamped a leg. “Yeah, but who in their right mind would start a war over an apple?” he spat. “You'd be better off trading them.”

“What about grapes?” Spike suggested. “Those are great in bunches, but people always take 'em apart and they just don't taste as good.”

“Well yes,” I concurred, “but I wouldn't call them 'terribly dreadful' as the riddle would proclaim. As for that last major clue, it has to be an allusion to something.”

Nia put a hoof to her chin. “But what fruit would have been legendary for bringing the time of growth?”

These clues appeared quite deliberately placed. The last riddle was more abstract and descriptive of its solution, but this one seemed to be making things equally arcane and clever.

It was then that Kenta asked for something that made me honestly feel quite simple for not considering earlier.

“Does anyone have a book of myths and legends on them?”

Spike and I introduced our brows to the balls of our hands with surprising synchronicity.

“You know, with all the books that Twilight packed in our bags, you'd think we'd have read one of them by now.”

“Why am I not surprised?” I laughed. “Given the way you talk about her, she may as well be making nests of them to roost on.”

This now in mind, Spike scrounged through the rucksack, half-mindedly whispering titles like The Practical Pony's Primer on Plant Picking, Astronomy for Sailors, and Survival Skills for Studious Explorers as he searched. Each of them had simple covers, having at most an amusing picture with an overly peppy pony doing something vaguely connected to the subject of each text. However, in keeping with Twilight's penchant for books with overly verbose titles, the book which aroused our interests most was the book he pulled out last.

“Here we go,” Spike said, beaming with pride as he lifted a thick, hardcover grimoire. “From the Horse's Mouth: An Annotated Collection of Ancient and Classical Anecdotes.”

Napalm rolled her eyes. “Sheesh; could that tile be any nerdier?”

“So says the simple farmhand,” Roughshod retorted.

As Napalm shot Roughshod a scathing stare, Spike spread the book open.

“Let's see,” said the dragon, scratching his claw carefully across the pages. “Creation mythology, tales of terror—ah, here we go: food fables!”

Frantically, Spike skimmed the pages, mumbling passages at a breakneck pace before skidding his claw onto a bold-faced passage.

“The Theft and Return of Persepony,” Spike began, taking a fanciful tone. “Persepony was the princess of the Underworld and daughter to Chancellor Puddinghead. She was known for her beauty, and even Haydes wanted her for his own. One day, when Persepony was picking flowers, the earth split open, and Haydes stole away with Persepony. Haydes thought he'd gotten away unseen, but Starswirl the Bearded and Princess Celestia saw him clear as day.

“Every day Persepony wasn't home, Puddinghead refused to allow anypony to harvest in protest. Starswirl sent Commander Hurricane into Tartarus to demand Persepony's release, and Haydes begrudingly obliged. Before Haydes let Persepony go, he gave her a pomegranate to eat. Together, Hurricane and Persepony ascended Tartarus, and the climb made Persepony hungry. Just as they came out, Persepony bit into the pomegranate, not knowing that eating it bound her to Tartarus. Ever since, Persepony had to stay in Tartarus for a third of the year, coming out just in time for spring.

“From this came the season of winter.”

“Well that just about settles it, then,” Kenta woofed. “The answer must be 'pomegranate'.”

“Sounds right to me,” Roughshod agreed with a short nod “But pray tell, dragon; why would somepony put a book of lore in your pack?”

“That's just how Twilight is,” Spike replied, shrugging his shoulders. “She' s always been the type to plan for every possible contingency, even when it's something like a sleepover. I mean, she even has checklists for her checklists!”

Juno juddered her head slightly. “This Twilight seems like a fastidious type.”

“Like you wouldn't believe,” answered Spike as he punched in the password.

Again, we were greeted by a prompt of all-capital lettering that emerged from the dark void of the screen.

WELCOME BACK, ADMINISTRATOR

LAST KNOWN LOG-IN IS CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE. YOU MAY:

PLAY STORED RECORDINGS

DOWNLOAD “RA.BAT”

MONITOR PLANT STATUS

Juno approached the screen, a small dongle coming out from her hoof that she attached to a small port-hole on the machine. “Please download the BAT file,” she asked blankly.

Spike did as Juno adjudicated, taking a few keystrokes to activate the process, which appeared as what appeared to be a bracket with a small line of slashes with the phrase “TRANSFERRING RA.BAT TO ATTACHED STORAGE DEVICE” only a few lines above it.

Spike looked at the machine with a sense of wonderment. “Y'know, as old as it looks, this thing's about as impressive as those things in that library Twilight and I were in.”

I folded my arms with a quizzical grin. “I really ought to ask you about that, sometime,” I replied as the process neared completion. “But what about those recordings?”

Spike scrunched his snout slightly. “Gimmie a minute.”

Once Juno was certain the file was loaded onto her memory, she smiled and removed the dongle, nodding her head to me.

“Any idea what these bat-thingies do?” Napalm asked.

“If I am certain, they are something like a program,” Juno replied, putting a hoof to her horn. “They are usually used to process a series of commands, but given the odd naming style, I would assume that these files are meant to be opened in one connected process. Perhaps they're part of a cipher.”

“If that's the case, what does it mean? “ Roughshod rumbled. “The first piece was 'SKA', and the other was 'RA'.”

Nia nodded her head a for a moment. “Skara; the name sounds familiar, but I'm afraid I can't place it.”

“Speaking of familiar-sounding names,” I added, turning to Megan. “Would you happen to know of a girl named Maria?”

“Maria, huh.” Megan tapped her foot and staff in an odd rhythm. “I think I know of a Maria, but my memory's failing me at the moment.”

I briefly described to Megan what I could remember of Maria. As vivid as the dream in which she appeared was, it was still as fleeting as any other dream. Then again, dreams tend to have a habit of having at least one particular moment that stays with you in spite of all else fading away from memory.

“I'll admit, she sounds like someone I'd know,” Megan replied, sounding a little more certain. “I'll do some looking around after this and see if I can find who you're on about.”

I gave Megan a kindly smile and put her hand between mine. “I'd be ever in your debt.”

“Not at all,” Megan waved her hand dismissively. “Life debts for an immortal hold little worth.”

Spike waved for our attention. “Okay, boys and girls, get your ears open; let's hear what they've got left for us.”

With a confident stroke of his claw, Spike selected the option to play back the recordings. A biting buzz filled the room. Then, the sound of large thuds like boulders crashing down from above. Men and women alike could be heard crying out in all manner of emotions as brief wooshes of something passed through the speakers, though no imagery came on screen to accompany it.

”Shepherd's log. Date of recording: indeterminate, started a male voice. ”The starfall grows worse by the day. If people, pony, and shepherd aren't getting killed from the impacts, they're being used like shells for whatever foul darkness seeps out of the falling stars. We can't hope to fight them like this; our magic is strong, but it's like a candle against this darkness. The unicorn magi have been doing the best they can, but we've already lost too many of our own to the stars’ taint. If we don't do something soon, we may end up becoming unwilling traitors to the crown.

“Sad as it is to say, we're pulling out –the orders have already been given from the council. We've found an island, leagues away from any other shore in the known world. Plenty of space for crops and livestock, but most especially for us. Wish it didn't have to come to this, but it's the only thing we can do to be sure both our kinds survive this. The unicorns may wield great magic, but ours has always been especially volatile, especially in the hands of the star-born ones.

“I wish there were another way, but for now, quarantine our best bet. We've given the coordinates to the outgoing troops, and just in case we leave any behind, we've left the way to get there in the temples we set up 'round the world.

“To anyone who hears this: Find the rest of the code. By the time anyone but the temple custodians hear this, the threat will either have been long past or wiped the continent clean. If you find the rest of the code, you can find us.

“I doubt I'll live to see the day, but please—find us. You must believe me when I say we didn't want it to be this way, but it was that or the death of a race that didn't deserve its fate.

“You—the one who's been seeking these temples out—will be the bridge that makes two long divorced worlds whole again.”

The sound of a loud cry of anguish punctuated the recording’s end, and all of us winced heavily.

“That sounded like a right war zone, that did,” grumbled Roughshod.

“What was all that about starfall and star taint?” Napalm wondered, scratching her ears with her hindleg.

When I turned to Nia, she appeared especially somber. Gone was her cheerful demeanor, her calm persona. She had the eyes of a pony—or zebra, rather—who was haunted by looming darkness.

“In my tribe's culture...” she shuddered, eyes wide and pupils less than a hair's width. “They say that before the shadows of the moon had a queen to rule them, they dripped from the darkest maria upon the earth, landing in spears that cleaved the ancient lands in twain. They say that the world was once whole; no separate oceans, no continents. That all tribes ran as one, sharing the land together.

“Then, from the moon there came a vile darkness. A power so profane that the stars themselves couldn't shine against it.”

I guiltily gazed at my hand. “Like my magic?”

Nia shook her head violently. “No; the magic that Luna has given you is born of the light of the moon, casting soothing shadows that save the sleeping. The power that held the ancient world is a darkness that came from no such light. It is pure in its ill origin, and it very nearly swallowed the light in its maw.”

“What was the meaning behind what he said?” I asked as I looked to Megan. “About our magic being volatile and how they've all fled for somewhere?”

“All true,” Megan replied, her voice taking a slightly somber shade. “Our magic has always been especially difficult to tame. This was a fact the shadow-kin used to their advantage. They stole the bodies of our comrades, and turned them into fearsome engines of devastation that only became more difficult to distinguish from our own men as time passed.

Eventually, we'd been faced with a choice; either we retreat to some exotic place and allow ponykind to cleanse the taint from the world to make it safe for us both, or to have our kind turned against theirs in a terrible twist of fate.”

“Then perhaps those files are the name of the place they fled to?” suggested Juno.

“Precisely,” Megan said, placing a hand to her hip. “It's a decently-sized island, just large enough to be spotted on maps and globes, but not large enough to be known by name. As such, those files contain the coordinates and name of the location, the ways to approach it, and so on. They split it into pieces to avoid it being discovered by those who'd do us ill.”

Kenta, meanwhile, was busy checking the plants in the shelves. “Well, that's one mystery solved,” he said as he stopped at a jar with a particularly innocuous-looking plant inside. “Next mystery, what's this plant, and why's it got a big 'keep sealed' label on it.”

“Because it ain't the kind of herb you wanna get too intimate with, mutt.”

All eyes turned to the door. Before us was a pony that was all but the spitting image of Applejack, though one who was lacking a hat, considerably less saturated in color and more distinctly worn in appearance. In her mouth was a strand of wheat, which she seemed to grind between her teeth.

“What yer' gawpin' at's cottonwine,” she said with a familiar twang. “They say it's the strongest aphrodisiac known in herbology.”

Napalm's brow furrowed with confusion. “Aphro-what now?”

“She means it's a drug meant for those who like to get particularly bawdy,” Roughshod muttered.

“Oh, so you mean--'

Roughshod nodded his head with a none-too knowing blush.

Applejack took a bite of her wheat stalk. “You mind tellin' me what you're doin' here, Megan? 'Specially with a bunch of strangers?”

Megan pushed me into view, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “I found this one venturing with a small company in my travels,” she replied all matter-of-factly. “He seemed to know nothing of his kin, so I took it upon myself to educate him. He's already met Twilight, so you'd be the second.” She made a gesture of greeting, waving her hand from me to the earth pony. “Lance, say hello to Applejack.”

I rubbed my shoulder, somewhat flustered by her eerie resemblance. “A pleasure to meet you, miss.”

“Somethin' about him don't look right,” Applejack sneered. “He's got the blood, for sure, but it's his demeanor that throws me.”

Megan turned to the group. “He grew up immersed in pony culture first and foremost, Applejack. You know well that my kin is quite literally ancient history by now. Only scant myths and legends.”

Applejack hung her head for a moment, nodding as she began to understand the situation better. “Aye, that might do it,” she said, giving me a sharp eye. “So you're lookin' for the ones that made you, I take it?”

A fire brewed in my cheeks. “Not necessarily! I'm just trying to get answers to those unsolved mysteries that hang around me.”

Applejack took a quick sniff of me before whickering right at my face.

“Something smells rotten about you, boy,” she growled. “You aren't one of them are you?”

My arms shot up like they were on a lever as I backed away. “No, ma'am! I'm nowhere near that!”

“You can't hide it completely, kid,” Applejack warned. “It's faint, but I found it. If you're smart, you'll keep it under control. Last thing we need is another star fiend savaging the lands.”

“See here, now,” Nia stepped in front of me, standing tall. “Though I share your concern, he is in the hooves of folk pious and pure. So long as he's under my tutelage, you have no reason to fear.”

“But you do,” Applejack snapped, getting nose-to-nose with Nia. “These things ain't like demons or ghosts, where you can just say a few good words and get them gone just like that. It's a cancer; you either cut it out before it gets dangerous, or you put down the sorry son of a wretch who has it so he doesn't hurt anyone else.”

The whole room went quiet as a clock tower mouse. Eyes wandered back and forth, pupils following one another for the instant that one of us decided to pounce on the other. Perhaps then it was the fear of unleashing a worse threat than simple violence that kept us from making a move. Instead, the elder Applejack whickered at us, contempt in her eyes.

“You've seen what you need to,” she growled as she pointed to the door. “Now get before I lose more of my temper.”

“A shame it has to be this way, but you've always been the type who's set in her ways.” Megan sagged slightly where she stood. “We'll leave you shortly, Applejack; sorry to be a bother.”

Applejack didn't say a word. Her front hoof was simply jabbed at the doorway, trembling with anger. Megan waved us out of the door, herself not far behind.

“I'm sorry we had to meet like this, AJ,” she whispered, her voice carrying a timbre of regret.

“You know as well as I do how dangerous their lot can be,” she hissed back. “You'll always be welcome here, but so long as the boy carries his taint, he's a danger to his comrades, to you, and to this world. Much as I know you don't like it, I should hope you know how to spare him of his sorry fate.”

The rest of their conversation grew too hushed for me to hear, but the weight of their words made our steps heavier than the stone from which the temple was forged.

Once we were out, Megan heaved a sigh, looking to me with eyes trembling like those of a doe.

“Forgive me, Lance,” she pleaded, kneeling so that she and I were at eye-level. “I had forgotten that she was...touched by the events of time long past.”

I turned away, my feet dragging sizable troughs in the dirt.

“Is it true what she said?” I trembled, words half-slurred in grief and anger. That I might have to be 'put down', as she put it?”

Megan recoiled away, biting her lip as she too lost the will to share eye contact. “Sad as it is to admit, yes; though we had plenty of magic to combat most threats to the realm, we had precious few ways to face the shadows from out of space.”

The strength in my legs had all but poured away as I crumpled to my knees.

“So that's it, then?” I whimpered, hands at my kneecaps. “I'm a vector of some damned darkness that has to be cut down like a rabid dog?”

I felt the archmage's grip against my arms as she wrenched me into her sights.

“Don't say that!” she cried out, close to shaking me. “Don't ever say that! The more you relent to despair, the easier it will be for it take you from us.”

“But am I not damned?” I shouted back, eyes heavy with grief. “Am I not destined to turn my blade against my fellows?”

It was then that Spike approached, quick as a streak as he spun me around by my shoulder.

“Listen to me, Lance,” he said, a glow of pyrelight in his eyes. “I know this must be hard on you. I also know you must be scared to death right now. I've been there, and I've done that. But, I know you're better than this!”

Spike shook me to try and break me from my stupor. “We may not be able to carry your burden. Heck, we can barely understand it. But we can carry you. We've got a job to do, and it can't be done without you.”

He lent his hand to me, a tender smile on his face.

“C'mon,” he urged, palm open and waiting. “We've got places to be and things to do.”

At first, I dared not look upon Spike. My own self-loathing forbade it; I couldn't face him as I was. And yet, something about the earnest look that adorned him and the gentle, yet firm way in which he held me made it hard to keep looking away. In time, I found my hand gravitating toward his, and they met each other in a simple embrace.

“Apologies, Spike,” I said, my throat slightly weakened. “I've let my fears take me again. But you're right; there's work to be done, and I'd be an embarrassment to the family if I didn't fulfill my duties.”

Spike pulled me up with a quick jerk, catching me into a kindly hug. “That's the spirit. Now, let's get going.”

Before we could make our way back to the ship, Megan stopped me a moment.

“And where might you be headed?” she asked, mood slightly uplifted.

“To Minotaur territory,” I replied tersely. “And you?”

Megan held up a hand. “I'll keep up. I'll try and look for Maria in the meanwhile. If I come to find anything, you'll be first to know.”

For a split-second, I swore I saw the thunderbird again, but if could have easily just been the glare of the sun in my eye.

“Well, you'd best be off,” Megan advised, patting me on the back. “Minotaurs tend to not be the most patient of folk.”

I gave Megan a quick nod as I waved her goodbye. “I'll keep that in mind.”

We made our separate ways then. Though our experience together wasn't the most pleasant, I at least left with something resembling a lifted spirit. Perhaps Spike had a point; though I did carry burdens uniquely my own, the others would be there to lift me even when I couldn't lift myself.

“It’s a sobering thought, for certain,” Roughshod said as he neared my side. “To harbor a burden like yours is an unenviable task.”

“And you would know this?” I asked him, craning my head around.

Roughshod leaned upon his cane. “When you’re at an age like mine, you tend to know a great many things. It’s a sorry state when ponies and other sorts are under the spell of something only they can see. But, there are plenty of cases like yours, and there is treatment to be had.”

My arms drooped over the railing as I tried to eye the thunderbird again. “And what sort of action is to be done?”

“If I may interject?” asked Nia from afar. “I believe I might have something that could be of help.”

Napalm rolled her eyes. “What, are you gonna have him wax the hull to take his mind of it? Oh, what about hanging up coats?”

Nia placed a hoof to her forehead. “Not all martial arts training is based on labor,” she said, rubbing her temple slightly. “A great deal of martial arts is also internal.”

“Perhaps you’re referring to meditation?” Juno asked, joining the group. “If this problem is psychiatric, perhaps mental discipline might solve the problem.”

“I had to see a psychiatrist once,” Spike called from the aft of the ship.

“What for?” Kenta called out. “By the looks of it, you seem pretty normal to me!”

“It wasn’t for me!” he clarified. “Twilight was getting treatment for some recurring nightmare where she was late for school.”

The ship grew quiet, perhaps to express pity.

“As I was going to say,” Nia grumbled. “I could take you below deck, where we could get started on training your mind. Maybe by digging deep into your subconscious mind, we may be able to do something regarding your troubles.”

I stretched out, narrowly avoiding tipping over the railing. “I suppose it’s preferable to having my friends put me down.”

“You don’t need to be so glum about it,” Kenta barked. “We’re in this together, remember that!”

I looked out to the sky again, seeing nothing but a long road ahead.

“I guess we’ve not got time for much else, then,” I reckoned. “Lead the way. Juno, to me; I’ll need someone to watch in case something goes awry.”

Juno nodded excitedly and smiled as she flanked me. “As you wish, master.”

As the three of us neared the stairs, Spike held me up for a moment, keeping one hand on the steering wheel.

“Just so you know,” he said with a soft smirk. “You don’t need to beat yourself up over this. As long as you’re with us, everything’s gonna be okay. There’s no shame in asking us for help; that’s what friends are for.”

I returned his smile, taking a moment to share a brief, one-armed hug with my dragon companion.

“Thanks, Spike,” I said, a tear running off my cheek. “I’m glad that I’ve got a friend like you along for the ride.”

Spike gave me a tight squeeze. “Don’t mention it. It’ll take us a little while to make it to Rinth, so I’ll holler when we get there. Take all the time you need.”

I waved Spike goodbye as we descended down below deck. With Juno at one side and Nia at the other, the feeling that I was in good hooves was a welcome change. Though I still held reasonable fear in my mind that I wasn’t certain to get better anytime soon, having someone who could help me come to terms with my ills certainly helped my troubled mind.

I was certainly going to need a lot of that help going forward. A faint hope dawned upon me as we made for the sky again. Perhaps in immersing myself again in another culture, I might find more to myself than an affable abomination and an imperious spirit.

Comments

[Seeking Dusk]

This backstory is looking mighty interesting... I hope they can pull off the 'remove the cancer' route rather than the 'put out of misery' one.

Also; minor coding error on the italics tag.

[AdamThePony]

6858797
I've never watched Blackadder, sadly. Care to give me a point of reference?

[AdamThePony]

6961265
I imagine it as a combination of hormones kicking in and decorum, though as you'll note in later chapters, that may be subject to change.

[ultra1437]

It my have taken longer than I care to admit, but I'm caught up. A very interesting read, Adam. Well done, engaging, and plenty of world building. I eagerly look forward to more.