Cold Fire

Piercing winds tore at Lost Relic’s sandy mane through the hood of his parka. His hooves chipped away at the ice below him, sending shards of it skittering across the frozen expanse. He gritted his teeth and redoubled his efforts. They were almost there, he could see the ornate entryway through an ever thinning sheet of crystal clear ice.

Its light stone bricks were alien to the darker grey of the natural rock, and they had likely been carried hundreds of miles. He could just begin to make out the intricate carvings through the refraction of the shattering ice. They curled up the archway, a trail of symbols leading up to a stylized depiction of a dragon at it’s apex.

Lost Relic’s mind puzzled over the dragon. It was unlikely that the ancient civilization responsible for the ruins had ever encountered a dragon. Dragons rarely migrated so far north, away from the barren lava lands they hailed from. Even odder was the position of the carving, over the entryway. It was possible that they revered the dragon in question as a protector, and not a harbinger of death and fire like they were known for elsewhere.

With a crack, his hoof finally punched through the sheet of ice. It wasn’t long before he widened the hole enough for a pony to slip through. The sound of steady hoofsteps sounded behind him, and Lost Relic’s good mood evaporated.

“You get the temple open yet, cuzz” Brazen Hoof said, drawing out the z in a way that grated on Lost Relic’s nerves.

He turned to face the stallion, trying hard to keep a scathing response internal. His aggravating cousin was a good hoof taller than him and had a freakishly large wingspan. His dark green coat and familial sandy mane done up in a quiff, however, made sure you wouldn’t see him coming to take control of your entire day until it was far too late.

Adjusting his glasses, Lost Relic sighed and calmed down before answering, “We have no way of knowing this was a place of worship. It’s possible that these ruins served an entirely different purpose.”

Brazen Hoof blew a raspberry into the air. “Jeez cuzz. It’s a large, ancient, stone structure. Of course it’s a temple.” He leapt through the hole in ice and Lost Relic followed him at a steady, reasonable, walking pace.

Lighting the lantern that hung off his overpacked saddlebags, Lost Relic began to descend the large spiral staircase that sat just inside the entryway. Brazen Hoof had already escaped his vision, humming a few bars of his “theme music.”

Slowing down, Lost Relic began to take in the carvings the covered the outer wall of the staircase. Once again, the idiosyncratic dragon made an appearance, spiralling up the staircase like a flying serpent. He had never seen a dragon depicted that way before, usually they were massive fat creatures that spewed fire.

As he came to the bottom of the staircase, the carving of the dragon came to it’s head. It looked dismayed. Before it, encrusted in brilliant icy blue jewels was a carving of a brilliant flame. The dragon seemed to be reaching out to it, but small ponies with spears held it at bay. Lost Relic took out his sketch book, a large thing, packed with drawings and tracings of museum pieces.

Just as his pencil touched the paper, the noise of shattering pottery and a muffled laugh stopped him. Shoving his sketch book back in his saddlebags gracelessly, Lost Relic took off through the first room. His heart wrenched as he ignored the massive chamber. Climbing a couple steps he exited into a hallway.

Another laugh echoed through the ruins, followed shortly by the sharp sound of more pottery breaking. Distracted, Lost Relic didn’t notice the floor ahead of him had crumbled away into a dark abyss until he had nearly spilled over it. Letting out a staccato shout, he backed away slowly before falling to his rump in relief.

He groaned as another sharp crack roach him. Standing up he took in a deep breath before shouting, “Could you stop smashing priceless artifacts and help me across this pit!? Evidently I can’t take my off you, or else you start destroying things!”

Brazen Hoof’s quick hoofsteps began to move closer to him, followed by a low chuckle. “I’m not smashing priceless artifacts, cuzz,” he called out, “I’m just smashing some old pots looking for treasure.”

Lost Relic let out an exasperated sigh as his cousin came into view. Adjusting his glasses and clenching his jaw tightly enough he could swear he heard his teeth crack, he tried to keep his voice at a reasonable level. “The pots are the priceless artifacts.”

Brazen Hoof laughed openly as he crossed the gap. He flew like a glider with a couple dozen holes cut into its wings, despite having nearly empty saddle bags and a massive wingspan. It was a mystery how he had gotten through flight camp as a foal. Landing on the other side, he motioned for Lost Relic to hop on. “It’ll be just like when you were a little colt.”

Lost Relic’s auburn coat shook. He was afraid that it would be just like when he was a colt. Still, he clambered onto his cousin’s back. Wrapping his forelegs around the stallion’s barrel, he unconsciously buried his muzzle his greasy mane.

Flaring his wings, Brazen Hoof leapt out over the hole. His wings strained under the extra weight and his flight almost instantly destabilized. Lost Relic shouted, kicking his hind legs in a panicked effort to hold on tighter. His hoof caught Brazen Hoof’s lantern, knocking it off of his saddlebags and sending it spiralling down below.

Forcing his eyes open Lost Relic looked down to see where the lantern had landed. The pit was deep, and it was whole minutes, or maybe just seconds, before the lantern finally hit the ground with a dull clatter and the sound of shattering glass. The flaming oil spilled outwards, illuminating dozens of metal spikes. Dozens of, now flaming, metal spikes.

Time seemed to slow down and he could feel his heart pumping away in his chest. They were going to fall. Brazen Hoof’s wings were going to give out. Lost Relic could see his cousin’s wings straining, just as vividly as he would see a four foot piece of metal being driven through his chest. Then they really did begin to fall.

Brazen Hoof’s hooves touched down on the other side with a staccato clatter, and Lost Relic let himself slip off the insane stallion’s back, falling to the ground with his legs splayed. “I am never doing that again.”

“That’s what you say every time. Besides,” Brazen Hoof said, giving a Lost Relic a wry look. “You’re going to have to do it again to get out.”

The world stubbornly refused to fade away and save Lost Relic from processing the fact that he would have to cross the pit again. The deep, spike filled pit. Instead, he was forced to come to a shaky stand. Straightening his glasses and running a hoof through his mane, he spoke. “Of course, although I think I will handle myself better now that I know what to expect.”

Brazen Hoof rolled his eyes and set off on a swift canter down the rest of the hall, his visibly shaking cousin in distant tow. “If you’re going to carry the only remaining lantern,” he called back, “Do you mind picking up the pace? I don’t fancy walking into a trap I can’t see, although I think I already triggered all of them.”

Lost Relic upgraded his snail’s walk to a slightly faster one. Somehow even less eager to follow behind his cousin. He began to look over the walls around him, slowly calming himself. The walls were mostly bare, although chips of paint decorated it where once great murals must have been.

He wished he could have seen them. As much as he liked piecing together the past and trying to picture what had happened so long ago, he could never shake the longing to see what ruins had been like when they were new. When the stonework was fresh and not worn away into so much sand. When actual ponies lived their everyday lives in and around them.

Just as the pool of light his lantern cast spilled around the stone doorway at the end of the tunnel, his cousin was gone, charging head first into the next room. Lost Relic followed, his lantern fully illuminating the chamber as he crossed the threshold.

Columns arched upwards to the ceiling, holding the thousands of tons of dirt and stone out of the massive room. At the head of the room was an altar. Behind it, a statue of the same serpentine dragon reared, it’s gem encrusted eyes falling on the altar. Lost Relic turned to the floor and sighed. As he feared, there wasn’t an intact piece of pottery in sight, and shards of a earthy ceramic were strewn across the tiled floor.

“Cuzz, look at me!” Brazen Hoof was rolling around on the altar, smearing a red stain all over himself. His muzzle was twisted into a stupid grin and laughter rang out through the room.

“Stop that!” Lost Relic shouted, galloping to the head of the room. Just as he was a forelegs length away, the stallion stopped, his eyes seeming to catch something.

Brazen Hoof rolled of the altar, landing on his hooves with a clatter. He made his way slowly to where the statute met the wall, pressing his face into the small corner. “Kill the light.”

Lost Relic shrugged. His cousin had finally lost it. He twisted the knob on his lantern. The flame dimmed, dimmed, and died. “I don’t see anything.”

Brazen Hoof snorted, ‘Of course you don’t see anything. Wait for your eyes to adjust.“

Lost Relic gave his cousin a disapproving look that went unreceived in the pitch darkness. It was so dark he couldn’t even see his muzzle in front of his face. He was about to voice his displeasure when he realized he could begin to pick out the outline of his cousin, sheathed in a soft blue glow. Lost Relic’s jaw dropped, “Where’s that light coming from?”

Shrugging, Brazen Hoof spoke, “Behind this statue. Help me move it.” Lost Relic stumbled over to the light, and wordlessly placed his front hooves on the smooth stone surface of the statue. Bracing their hind legs on a pillar behind them, the two cousins began to push.

Slowly, the statue slid across the floor, the other side no doubt worn smooth and aiding their efforts. With a final burst of strength, they pushed the entryway all the way open. The hallway ahead of them was lit by a brilliant blue light that seemed to flicker in time with a heartbeat. The walls were covered in runic etchings only one step of abstraction away from the ones still in modern use. It didn’t matter the time or the place, the symbols that made lasting enchantments never changed.

Brazen Hoof began to move towards the hallway, but Lost Relic held a hoof out. “We don’t know what these runes do, it could be a trap.”

Waving a hoof dismissively, Brazen Hoof laughed. “At this point I’m practically trap proof! I’ve survived every trap this place has thrown at me yet.”

“You survived one trap, because pitfalls don’t work on pegasi,” Lost Relic deadpanned. Still, Brazen Hoof persisted. As he approached the runes a humming sound began to began to build, like the middle C of a glass harmonica. The sounds grew louder and louder, filling the room with it’s presence. As Brazen Hoof brought his first hoofstep over the threshold down, it stopped, leaving only a ringing in his ears.

“See, what did I tell you? There’s nothing to worry about.”

Lost Relic grumbled, adjusting his glasses. He began to follow his cousin down the hallway. The runes were everywhere in the hallway, spelling out a massive enchantment that had lasted thousands of years, and yet all it had done was make a loud noise. His puzzling was interrupted as he passed into another room.

Looking up, he was nearly blinded by a blazing flame tinted an icy blue. The room was as cold as it had been outside, and the closer he moved to the flame the colder it got. The center of the flame was dark and seemed to pulsate, the flame growing and dimming in time with it’s beating.

Brazen Hoof motioned for the unlit lantern, and Lost Relic tilted his head in confusion. “What do you want the lantern for?”

“We’re out of matches,” he said, “I’m going to light it.”

“You had me put out the lantern when we had no matches left to light it!” Lost Relic shouted, “If we hadn’t found anything we would have been stuck in the dark! Can you imagine trying to cross that pit again when you can’t see?!”

Running a hoof down his face, Brazen Hoof groaned. “We did find something though, so it’s alright.”

Lost Relic let out a frustrated shout, “No it’s not alright! We could have died! I’m not going to let you anywhere near the lantern now. I’ll light it.”

“Fine, fine.” Brazen Hoof said, “Steal all the glory like usual.”

Lost Relic twisted the gas valve in his teeth before grabbing the long handle with his jaw. “There’s nothing glorious in lighting a lantern,” he spoke around the wire in his mouth. He shivered as he approached the fire. Holding the lantern high over the brazier he pushed the little glass door on the lantern open with a forehoof.

The beating of the fire froze, and the constant motion of the flame ceased. A stream of icy blue left the fire, spiralling outwards slowly at first, but quicker with every passing second. After a multitude of circles around the brazier, the stream veered, flying directly into the lantern. Lost Relic’s hooves slid backwards, as it hit the glass enclosure of the lantern with unexpected force.

The dark core of the flame began to move. As soon as it passed through the outer edge of the flame and into the fire stream the blaze began to flicker and die. It spiraled outwards along the path, at a constant speed. An agonizingly slow speed. Beginning to wonder what exactly was happening Lost Relic thought about moving. Before he could shift a hoof though, the core arrived in the lantern.

Up close it was unmistakably a heart, and as the last of the stream faded, it began to beat. Another blaze began to grow around the heart, filling up the lantern with it’s icy blue glow. It pushed at the sides of it’s glass prison, leaving tendrils of frost that quickly faded away.

Brazen Hoof’s jaw dropped. “I thought you said there was no glory in lighting a lantern? What was that!?”

Lost Relic thought, pausing for a moment before answering, “I don’t know. I do know an archivist in Canterlot who might be able to help us find out, though.”

Rearing up on his hind legs, Brazen Hoof snorted “Well then what are we waiting for! Let’s get going!” He took off down the hallway, stopping just at the edge of the massive pool of light the lantern cast.

“But- but… I still need to sketch all the carvings.” Lost Relic sighed. Hooking the lantern to his saddlebags he resigned to follow his cousin, wherever that would eventually take him. As they left the ruins, a barely noticeable chill began to emanate from where the lantern touched his exposed cutie mark.

Miles away, but not many a pair of icy blue eyes moved for the first time in a millenia.