• Published 27th Mar 2013
  • 2,001 Views, 201 Comments

The Death of Daring Do: The Engine of Eternity - DuncanR



Rainbow Dash takes the real-life archeologist Derring-Do on an adventure to heal her broken wing and mend her bitter spirit... but a deadly, unbreakable curse of death pushes them both to the limit.

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Part 11: "Let go."

Rainbow Dash's head reeled and her vision slowly pulsed between darkness and indistinguishable haze. She was submerged in a thick, soggy muck that filled her mouth and nose with the sickly-sweet tang of rotting fruit. Her body throbbed with pain, and every movement sent a burning fever through her bones. Her nose was just barely above the surface, but she was too weak to struggle upward. It was all she could do to toss and turn.

Come, Rainbow Dash...

She shook her head back and forth as something grasped her hind leg... something skeletal began gently pulling her down.

Come play in the mud, Rainbow Dash! You'll never have to leave... you'll never want to!

She thrashed against the skeletal voice with the last of her strength, ignoring the pain and sickness that lanced through her. When her nose briefly breached the surface, a rich and curious scent filled her nostrils: It was bold and bitter, hot as steam, and it poured into her lungs as she inhaled. She managed to take one good, long breath before falling into a violent coughing fit. She let out a furious yell as the steam seared her clean from the inside out. The filth and slime surged out of her throat and the raspy fever in her joints was replaced by a much stronger heat: a fire that tempered her bones and filled her muscles with vigor.

The skeletal presence cringed from the fire in her heart and retreated with a roar of frustration. Dash thrust her head upwards, burst from the surface of the swamp, and spread her wings wide. She streaked through the air, even though her vision was still far too hazy to see. It didn't matter where she went or what she'd escaped from... she was free.



Rainbow Dash lay on her back, tossing and turning as her vision gradually returned. Her other senses were hazy and muddled... she could hear muffled movement somewhere nearby, and a rhythmic wooden chime. The air was filled with the fragrance of smoke and spice.

Where... where am I?

She opened a single eye, but winced as a shaft of light flickered in her face. She let out a groan and rolled onto her side... she felt weak and weary all over, but not from fever or illness. This was the dull, leaden ache that followed extreme physical exercise. It was a kind of pain she was very familiar with.

She stood up and stretched her body completely, leaning backwards like a cat. After a few satisfying cricks and pops, she stood upright and shook her mane loose. She spread her wings wide and paused to look back at herself.

My wings feel fine. Actually, no... they feel fantastic. How long have I been unconscious?

She scrunched her eyes shut and blinked a few times before looking at her surroundings. She was in a tent with a bare dirt floor. The walls were made of large sheets of tree bark, sewn together with cord and supported by a frame of fresh, green saplings. The entrance was a proper cloth veil, thick and hoof-woven with a faint pattern of greens and browns. One corner of it was flipped back slightly to allow a slit of sunlight to enter.

She looked at the floor and saw a pair of thick sleeping mats, both made of woven vines and sprinkled with pink flower petals, now faded and withered. Placed between the mats was a tiny clay oven: a dome with three holes, sculpted with intricate shapes and figures. It was filled up with still-warm ashes with a strong, bitter scent.

Two beds, she thought. Whoever brought me here must have brought Derring-Do as well... and if they didn't, they're about to get an ear-full.

She swept the curtain aside and stepped out of the tent. There were numerous other tents arranged around a curving walkway, crowded and bustling with activity. The villagers were half-again as tall as herself, and walked with their heads low as if burdened. Their long, shaggy coats and manes were various shades of brown and tan, and their eyes were low-set and squinting.

They wore no saddles, but there was a wide variety of bridles and harnesses on display. All were crafted from vines and tree bark, and bedecked with a dazzling variety of decorations: Feathers and scales of all shapes and sizes, bangles and figurines made of sculpted clay or carved ivory, delicate wooden hoops filled with spiderwebs of knotted silk cord... the entire village, and everything within it, had been made by hoof.

The villagers paused in their daily routine to look at Rainbow Dash. They'd been quiet before, but now they were utterly still and silent. There was no hostility here, nor any congeniality... only serene acquiescence.

Rainbow Dash stared back at the villagers. The only sounds were the clinking of wooden wind-chimes and the trickling of water.

"So, ah..." She cleared her throat. "I don't suppose—"

The villagers turned away from her and went about their business.

Rainbow Dash frowned at the village in general. "Hey! Rude much?" She walked onto the main path and waved at everyone. "So you guys brought me to your village, right? Did you find anypony else with me?"

The villagers ignored her. A few were hauling wicker baskets and clay jars. Others were fixing or making things with only simple tools. Most were simply walking. The few foals hid behind their mother's legs and peered at her... not afraid, but not curious. Merely observant.

She went to a double-sized tent that was open along one side. Most of it was filled with mats loaded with misshapen gourds and bundles of dried herbs. There were a few natives inside, sorting through the goods.

"Hey, has anypony seen my friend? Mustard coat, grey mane? Her eyes would probably look huge to you guys. Like... big shiny dinner plates, almost. Yeah? No?"

Nobody responded to her. Nobody even made eye contact with her.

"Okay... time to kick things up a bit."

Rainbow Dash spread her wings and took to the air, hovering a few yards over their heads.

"Behooooold!" she called out over the village, "Watch in amazement as I slip free of the bonds of earth and soar through the skies! Cower in fear as I create mighty storms with a mere flick of my feathers!"

She did a mid-air pirouette and generated a tiny tornado that wandered through the air, crackling with electricity.

"...For I am a tiny, rainbow-colored, huge-eyed goddess of storms and skies! Fear not, for I am a kind and benevolent goddess with only one simple command..." She struck a dramatic pose. "...Pay attention to meeee!"

She hovered in place, gritting her teeth. The villagers offered no response. They weren't even looking up at her.

"Nothing? Aw, come on! Flying? Storms? It's not doing anything for ya?"

"Get on the ground and put your wings away. You're embarrassing us both."

"Derring?!" Rainbow Dash spotted Derring-Do down the road, standing beside a particularly elderly mare. She flew over and landed in front of her, grinning. "It is you! Awesome!"

Dash rushed over to hug her, but Derring-Do planted a hoof on her face and firmly held her back.

"Right... no hugging. Sorry." She stepped back. "But we're alive! And... surrounded by natives. Please tell me those two things are directly related."

Derring-Do nodded to the elderly mare beside her. "They found us in the jungle collapsed from fever, and took us in. They've got a cure for malaria that's better than anything I've even heard of back in Equestria. We've only been unconscious for two days, and yet we're made a complete recovery."

"And my wings are all healed up." Dash flexed her shoulders. "I'm pretty sure there was a hairline fracture or two... they must have some amazing healers."

"They have a great deal of experience with exotic medicine, as it happens." Derring-Do turned and gestured towards the elderly mare. "Rainbow Dash, I'd like to introduce you to someone... the eldest wise-witch of the Dzunturan."

Rainbow Dash stepped over to the elderly mare and held her hoof out with a congenial smile. "Heya! My name's..." She froze in place, wide-eyed, and let out a gasp. "Did you just say...!?"

"Yes. I've spent the last six hours trying to learn their language, and I've told her about our situation. She seems sympathetic to our plight." Derring-Do cleared her throat. "Please don't do anything to undermine that sympathy."

"Right... right." Dash spit on her hoof and slicked her mane back. "Gotta play it cool."

"Very much so," said Derring. "The Dzunturan's society is absolutely nothing like our own... they aren't even ponies, strictly speaking. They're something... older. They place absolutely no importance at all on individual wealth and power, and to them the greatest virtues are peace and humility."

Dash stared at her, alarmed. A moment later she turned to the elderly mare. "Thanks for saving us. You didn't have to, but you did, and I appreciate it. If there's anything we can do to help you in return, don't hesitate to tell us."

Derring-Do spoke in an exotic, lyrical language. The elderly mare nodded, slowly, but said nothing. She simply turned and walk down the path, slow and steady, and the two pegasi followed beside her.

"Wow," Derring-Do said. "I sat with her for three hours before she nodded to me."

"Well I meant every word of it." Dash watched the villagers as they passed through the village. "After all these millions of years, they're still alive...?"

"More like thousands of years. But that's still pretty incredible. The elder told me bits and pieces of their history, and it turns out there really is a lost city nearby: a city of golden paradise, where 'wonders and miracles were commonplace'."

"Lemme guess... a horrible curse demolished the place."

"That's a callous and insensitive thing to say, in addition to being horribly superstitious," said Derring-Do. "But, apparently, yes. The city fell victim to a terrible curse of some sort and has been lost ever since."

Dash looked at the primitive huts all around. "No wonder these ponies are so poor. They were probably lucky to get out of there alive."

"They choose to live this way," said Derring. "Apparently, when the curse was first discovered, some of the citizens chose to leave of their own free will. Over the next few decades, the city's leaders became increasingly decadent and the commoners languished in poverty and famine. Their religious leaders tried to seize power, and became more and more tyrannical as time went on. Eventually, the whole city fell to a level of primitive savagery that is 'not fitting to discuss in civilized company,' as the elder put it."

"These villagers are descended from the ponies who left early, aren't they?" said Dash. "No wonder they're so humble... they know what wealth and power can do to a pony."

"Exactly. They now live as nomads, in total harmony with the natural world. They own only what they carry on their backs, eat and drink only what they need to live healthy lives, and use nothing they cannot make themselves. Even written language is uncommon: most of their tradition is passed on orally."

"And yet they can make super-amazing medicine." Dash frowned, deep in thought. "One might even say miraculous. Did you tell them about the prism?"

"Yeah. Sort of. A little."

Dash turned to frown at her. "Is there a problem?"

"Maybe. I told the elder everything I knew—or at least I tried, in spite of the language barrier—and it turns out she already knows some of it."

The elderly mare walked of the path and went into a hut. They followed her inside and several small mats arranged in a ring. The elder sat down and began setting out mugs full of steamy dark brown liquid. They sat across from her and took the mugs.

Derring-Do sipped from hers immediately, savouring the aroma. "...Unbelievable. I might have to stop drinking tea entirely."

Dash peered into her mug. "Just before I woke up, I had a dream about something that smelled just like this. All steamy."

"They left some of this brewing while we were unconscious. The steam has medicinal properties... this is a much milder concoction, but still therapeutic."

"Kay... but what is it?"

"It's a drink, brewed from a rare and exotic bean that grows in this jungle." Derring-Do nodded, sagely. "They call it... coffee."

Dash glared at her. "So? We have coffee in Equestria."

Derring took another sip. "Not this coffee," she said with a blissful smile.

Dash took a cautious sip from her own mug. She pursed her lips and arched one eyebrow in grudging admiration.

"So. What do these Dzunturan know?"

Derring-Do took a moment to choose her words.

"They know that the temple palace, the very heart of the lost city, is one giant machine—an alchemical engine, if you will, that supplied their civilization with all sorts of enchanted wonders. The prism is the key that supplies it with the concentrated magical power it needs. It was used for all sorts of magical gadgets and elixirs... but as soon as the medicine was discovered, they used the machine for nothing else. That's because the elixir it creates doesn't just heal you... it also makes you immortal."

Rainbow Dash stared at her. "You... really believe that?"

"They certainly do," Derring said and nodded to the elder. "Their whole society was torn apart by conflict as the royal leaders fought against the temple for control of the prism. Everypony wanted immortality, and the alchemical engine produced only a few drops of elixir every month. In the end, their civilization tore itself apart until nothing was left... except for these few nomads. Now, after thousands of years, there are rumors that some strange new cult has taken up residence in the city and is trying to reactivate the engine."

"You gotta...! We gotta...!" She glanced between Derring and the elder a few times, then bolted to her feet. "We gotta take care of this, Derring. I don't care how dangerous it is: we can't just let these creepy cultists take over everything! If they win here, it's a sure bet they'll try and take over the world next!"

Derring rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh, but there was a smirk on her face. "Didn't even stop to think about it, did you?"

"Sure I did," she said. "It just didn't take very long. Now tell the elder we'll take care of it, and tell her not to go anywhere near that city until after we're done. I don't want her people getting hurt."

"That won't be a problem," Derring said, "seeing as they can't go back."

Dash tilted her head, and her left ear flipped up. "...Can't?"

"The curse never ended, strictly speaking. When these nomads left the city, they swore they would never return ever again, nor would any of their descendants. If a member of the Dzunturan tribe were ever to set hoof in the city, the curse would take its toll on them and cause a terrible catastrophe."

"They need our help, don't they?" said Rainbow Dash. "We're the only ponies they've found who can go into the city without triggering the curse. We're all they have."

Derring nodded.

"Are you up to this?"

Derring shrugged. "Well, it's not like I'm doing anything else with my week."

Dash smiled at her. After a while, Derring-Do grudgingly responded with a half-smile of her own.

The elderly mare turned—ever so slightly—to look at the entrance of the hut. Dash and Derring turned to look as well and saw a stallion standing in the entrance. His approach had been utterly silent despite the crunchy leaves and soil outside. He was staring at them blandly, holding a black-and-red notebook in his mouth.

Derring-Do shot to her feet. "My journal! They must have found my saddlebags in the jungle! Did you..." She scrunched her eyes shut and tapped her forehead. "Find... find... olqu? Tanaid olqu khogiin uut bainuu?"

The stallion continued to stared at her for a moment, then nodded.

"Right! Yes! Wonderful! Khogiin uut khaan bain ve?"

The stallion turned away and walked towards the path. Derring chased after him. "I gotta go get my stuff. I'll be right back!"

"No prob," said Dash. "I'll just stay here and catch some hangtime."

Derring rushed after the stallion and followed him down the path.

Dash looked at the interior of the hut. Apart from a few ornate bits of pottery, it looked the same as the hut she'd woken up in. The same as every other hut, in fact.

"So," she said, "whaddya do for fun around here? Know any cool ancient sports?"

The elder watched her, squinting through her shaggy mane.

"Yeah," Dash said. "I don't think I actually introduced myself before... I wasn't trying to be rude, but we kinda got sidetracked by the whole curse thing. Do you know who I am? Did my pal tell you my name already?"

She watched her for awhile.

"My name's Rainbow Dash," she said. "Happy to meet you! What's your name?"

"Sorañxa Batgana," the elder said.

"Wow, that's... a tongue twister." Dash tilted her head. "Got any nicknames or something?"

"Sorañxa Batgana," the elder said, this time pointing at her.

"Me? You mean... that's my name? In your language?"

The elder nodded.

Dash's eyes widened. "I've got a Dzunturan name now? Wow... kinda makes me feel all spiritual and stuff. I feel like we got a sort of a spirit-bond thing goin' on here, you and me." Dash leaned forward. "Hey, are there any other words you can teach me? I'm not exactly a brainiac, but I'd love to give it a shot anyways."

"She is cursed."

Dash tensed. "Whoa! You can understand us!?”

“Your friend," the elder said. "She will die soon."

"Buh... wha..." she shook her head. "B-b-but that curse only happens if a Dzunturan enters the city, right? Derring-Do isn't secretly a descendant of the Dzunturan, is she? That'd be..." she paused to stroke her chin. "Actually, that'd be pretty cool. She does have a brownish coat, and she is pretty stocky for a pegasus."

"No. Different curse."

Dash stared off into space for a moment.

"The prism," she whispered. "She swiped the prism. You mean that curse is real!?"

The elder nodded.

"What do I do? There's gotta be something I can do about it!"

"Only one," she said. "Let go."

"Let go? Let go!?" Dash shot to her feet and snapped her wings out in an instinctive threat display. "What kind of crummy advice is that!? I oughta!"

"Dash? What're you doing?"

She turned to Derring-Do, standing in the entrance with her saddlebags secured to her back. Dash pointed at the elder but the accusation caught in her throat. The elder didn't look angry or vindictive or petty... she looked serene and observant.

Dangit. It's impossible to stay mad at her for more than a second. Dash swept her mane back and marched out of the hut. "Nevermind. It's nothing. Let's get out of here already."

"If you say so."