Origin Story

I hope you ponies back at HQ don’t mind that I’m keeping this informal. I’m not military, and never learned how to speak stick-up-your-ass.

Celestia, this temple brings back memories. Granted, it is a little worse for wear since my last visit. Filling the central chamber with lava isn’t good for the architecture. Fortunately, being made of stone, these things are pretty amazingly durable. Jua’s golems have their work cut out for them, though. They’re going to have to carve their way through all the rooms filled with lava stone if they want to find what they’re looking for. And they’re still not going to find it.

Right idea, but the princess is in another castle.

Interesting note: there’s a whole network of tunnels under the Tenochtitlan Basin that run up to the volcanic mountains in the dragon territory to the southeast. Whoever created these temples were engineering savants, and used those tunnels to create heated bathing pools, steam-powered stone elevators and the occasional lava-traps. Also worth noting: the folk who built these places had a fetish for traps. Seriously. They’re not quite as over-the-top as in my books – artistic license – but they were still nuts.

Hope Jua has fun in there.

Granted, if they dig enough, they’re bound to wake up the Quetzalcóatl Empress. The world really doesn’t need that kind of trouble. So maybe I should do something to stop them. After I’m done laughing.

As for gathering intelligence, I’ve been able to confirm what the Legion is doing in the Basin. Their mission is to regain control of the Radiant Shield of Rasdon. The Senate back in Roam has apparently succumbed to the insane notion that Luna is still Nightmare Moon and (my best guess) is just hiding Her true nature until She can dispose of Celestia. Because that’s not crazy. Legate Jua believes that if zebras can take control of the sun, they can lock Equestria in daylight and somehow that will strip Luna of most of Her power. Because that’s not crazy either.

Thanks to Nightmare Moon, the zebras know how devastating it is to be trapped under unending sun. They don’t seem to get just how bad unending night is, which is the situation they’ll be putting themselves in if they pull this off. This plan isn’t good for anybody. By Tartarus, it’s apocalyptic! What is the point of winning the war if you wipe out everyone and everything you’re fighting for in the process?

So yeah, I’m not planning to wait and see if they find the Amulet on their own. I’m going to do my best to stop them. If I fail, as much as it horrifies me to actually say this, I have to recommend razing the Tenochtitlan Basin.

Hopefully, you have a way to do that. Or a better idea.

Anyway, here’s the next bit of rough draft scribbling to use as your pad…

Fourth Pad Begins

Fourth Pad -- a rough draft excerpt from

Chapter 3: In Trouble

There is a certain flawed (and one would even say racist) mode of thinking that has become prevalent in recent years. Ponies have always been openly accepting of those who are different, but that has not protected us from a sense of superiority. Throughout most of our history, this sense has been individualized, but that has not always been the case. If we recall the stories of the three pony tribes from the Old Country, we are reminded that ponies of each race – pegasi, earth ponies and unicorns – each believed the others to be inferior. Not by birth, but by culture and morality.

Each pony has her own opinions, and even though she may rationally acknowledge that the opinions of others are equally valuable, she does not truly believe that. Her opinions are, after all, based on her own education and experience, which are necessarily correct; thus, her opinion is naturally superior to that of any who disagree. And if a vast majority disagree, it is not because she is wrong, but because she is exceptional.

Differences are more easily accepted when the difference is academic or aesthetic, but not when the differences are in perceptions of proper and improper. Or, worse, right and wrong. When presented with a culture or morality that conflicts with our own, the pony mind is often swift to judge and, by nature of homocentric morality, finds anything different to be inferior and degenerate. This leads some ponies to decry those who are culturally or morally different; it leads others of us to feel burdened with the responsibility of uplifting, educating or even “saving” them.

In the earlier decades of archaeology, this flawed mode of thinking permeated much of academia. As much as I respect the intellect and instructions of Professor Underhill, his perceptions were deeply entrenched in the idea that the modern zebra is ill-suited to appreciate and properly protect the history of the continent’s grand past, and that it is the duty of the superior Equestrians to rescue the ancient artifacts of those cultures and put them in Equestrian museums where they could be properly appreciated and learned from.

To my shame, I too fell into such thinking in my youth, and I cannot blame it more than partially upon the Baltimare curriculum. As I sat in the hall outside the primi ordines’ chamber, my mind was scrambling to reconcile the day’s events.

The Legion had put a swift end to the assassin’s attack, and not without the shedding of blood. One of the assassins had killed herself rather than surrender. Life is precious and sacred; the idea of taking another’s was abhorrent. No matter how bad or desperate the situation, it is neither so hopeless nor so important as to justify murder. The idea of taking one’s own life was unfathomable. As a young mare, I was appalled. I clung to the hope that the assassins were sick, or at least barbaric outliers, and that the whole of zebra culture did not devalue life. But then there was the sphinx.

If nothing else came of the day, at least I had freed the sphinx. I couldn’t even wrap my mind around the concept of keeping another sentient creature in captivity, save in the case of imprisoning criminals. But the sphinx had not been locked in a jail. She was on the docks. And she was not guarded as a prisoner, but rather kept as cargo. I could not deny that my motivation for freeing her was more than just the desperation and convenience of the battle. And in doing so, I had not only let the captive spirit free, but had saved the lives of my classmates as well. Something which they had, at first, shown great appreciation for.

That would change.

~-------~ oOo ~-------~

Daring Do’s mind was going very dark places. The docks had been attacked. They had been attacked; the zebra assassins had attacked students! Not that Daring Do considered herself a child, nor the others, but she did consider them to be innocents. Keeping that in mind made the situation all that much more appalling. And worse, it seemed that they were in trouble for it.

Daring Do listened to Jua and Goldentongue argue fluently in the zebra’s native tongue on the other side of the door. She and the other students sat with Professor Underhill and Packer outside the office of Jua, Bahari Soko’s primi ordines, the commander of Roam’s Legion forces in the city.

“Dark empress’ cult with arrows of fire…” Daring Do heard through the door as the Legion’s commander slipped into a strangely sing-song Equestrian. “Whose foolishness has drawn here her ire?”

Arrows of fire. The assassins had meant to kill. And they had been quite successful in causing havoc and destruction.

She couldn’t even think of the mess. The assassin’s ship and the Mzigo Msichana were dead in the harbor. The pier where the Mzigo Msichana had docked was destroyed, the docks themselves were partially burned. Celestia only knew how much cargo had been destroyed, or how valuable it was. None of which, in Daring Do’s opinion, the Legion had any call to blame ponies for.

The shambles that Bahari Soko’s marketplace was left in, and the rest of the wreckage that they had left in the wake of their high-speed cart chase… maybe some of that could be laid at their hooves. It had been her snap decision to try to lose the assassins by cutting through that thermae (a building that, at a dash, seemed like a cross between a spa and harem), although it was one of the assassin’s rickshaws that ended up in the pool. And the Legion would probably blame her for the damage to that one rooftop that resulted from her ill-thought attempt to fly while carrying that much weight.

The door opened. Goldentongue motioned first for Professor Underhill, and then to Daring Do and the other students. “The primi ordines wishes to see you now.”

Daring Do followed Professor Underhill into the stately room, decorated with suits of zebra armor, racks of weapons, and tapestries of white, red and gold. She recognized the golden Seal of Roam on the wide, ornately-carved desk. Rather than impressing Daring with her importance, the zebra behind it seemed to be made smaller by the grand show put on by the room.

Jua glared at Professor Underhill and began to speak – in zebra, to Daring Do’s surprise. Jua could be thanking them or chewing them out; how would they know if they couldn’t understand her? Did she think all ponies who came to the zebra lands could speak zebra? Actually, now that she thought about it, Daring Do found this a logical assumption. After all, if a zebra came to Equestria, Daring would expect her to speak pony. Suddenly, Daring Do felt as if she had been unintentionally rude.

“The primi ordines first wishes you to know that she is happy that neither you nor any of your students were seriously injured in the attack,” Goldentongue stated the moment Jua stopped talking. Daring Do quickly realized the ambassador was going to act as a translator for the zebra. “And that she regrets that this was the first impression that you received of this normally peaceful and welcoming city.”

Professor Underhill nodded, not to Goldentongue but to Jua. The Legion zebra spoke again, and the ambassador translated. “The Legion has not yet determined the goal of the attack, but they suspect that it was meant to cause terror amongst the populace, and that anyone on the dock would have been a target. It is possible that the Mzigo Msichana drew their attention because it bore a government flag.”

That made sense, Daring Do thought. It was an ambassadorial ship, after all. It certainly made more sense than a bunch of assassins wanting to take out a professor and a bunch of students.

“Still, the primi ordines insists on assigning you a Legion escort for the rest of your stay in Bahari Soko,” Goldentongue continued, frowning at what he would have to say, “And she regrets that your stay in the city must be cut short. You and your students are to leave on the first suitable vessel departing for Mwanzo Mpya.”

“What?” Professor Underhill blurted in astonishment as the students around her gasped. Daring Do felt as if the floor had dropped out from under her.

“Does this mean we have to go home?” Bluebell asked.

“This is horseapples,” Fleetwing protested with a flap of his wings.

Jua spoke harshly, and Goldentongue translated, “And I am afraid you will not be permitted to…” Goldentongue paused. “…explore the Tenochtilian Basin. Your request has been denied.”

Professor Underhill’s face shifted from surprise to anger. “You can’t do that! We weren’t at fault. They attacked us!” He spun towards Goldentongue. “Tell her that they attacked my students! We have a right to defend ourselves. She shouldn’t punish me… or them… for anything that we did to survive.”

“She’s well aware of that,” Goldentongue said, “However, one of your students unleashed a dangerous and volatile spirit on the town…”

“Damn it, if anything, it is the Legion’s fault,” Professor Underhill snapped. “If they can’t keep these whoever-they-are from attacking… if they can’t keep the criminal element under control in their cities…”

“…and it has hurt people.” Goldentongue informed them, causing hollowness in the pit of Daring Do’s stomach. “It will hurt more before it is recaptured.”

Oh Celestia! How many had the sphinx hurt? How badly?

“Professor…” Bluebell whispered, trying to calm him. The looks that Jua was giving him could have burned through lead. Daring Do suspected she knew more Equestrian than she let on.

The zebra glowered and spoke. “You should be thankful that she has not revoked your visa to her country entirely,” Goldentongue translated.

“I cannot say that I much care,” Jua said, her Equestrian taking an exotic rhyming pattern, “for ponies traipsing everywhere, blundering where they don’t belong, thinking they’re right and we are wrong.” She stared down the professor. “You have no claim to what’s not yours. You have no purpose on our shores. And I for one will eat my shoe before the Basin’s open to you.”

Professor Underhill just stammered. Finally, he asked, “Permission to speak to you privately, primi ordines?”

In moments, Daring Do found herself and the students back in the hall with Packer. There were voices on the other side of the door, but they were muffled, as if everyone inside was whispering just to make sure the students couldn’t make out what they were saying. That made sense to Daring Do. No point in kicking the kids out if you’re going to talk loud enough for them to hear anyway.

“Think the professor will be able to talk her into letting us stay?” one of the other students asked. Daring Do doubted that very much.

“I… was so looking forward to this.”

“Yeah, and now it’s over. We didn’t even get a full day!”

“Thanks for that sphinx, Daring,” Fleetwing said. “Because we needed that last nail in the coffin.” Bluebell glowered at the pegasus and he shut up, settling for casting accusing looks at Daring.

A chill went through Daring Do. This was her fault. And worse, there were people injured because of what she had done. When she released the sphinx, she thought she was being so heroic. She was proud of herself for freeing the captive creature. But now…

Now, she needed to know what she had done. How bad it was. Not that knowing would help anyone, but...

The other students stopped talking as the door opened and both the professor and Goldentongue exited. The professor pulled Packer aside and started speaking with him while the ambassador walked away. About halfway down the hall, he broke into a trot.

“Tell the professor I’ll be right back,” Daring Do said to Bluebell. She galloped after the ambassador. Since Goldentongue knew that people had been hurt, surely he had the details and could tell her how bad it was. As she ran, it occurred to her that she might be able to salvage the trip for everyone else. She was the one who uncaged the spirit, after all. Maybe if she volunteered to go back to Equestria alone, the rest of them could stay.

Goldentongue had disappeared around a corner. Daring Do raced to catch up. But when she turned the corner, there was no sign of him. She stopped, staring in all directions. Did he teleport away? Surely, she would have seen the flash. And he wasn’t far enough ahead of her to get away otherwise.

Then she heard him. Not far. He was talking to someone; she could only hear his voice, and she couldn’t make out what he was saying, but there were pauses that made her sure he was in a conversation.

She looked towards the nearest door, then moved close and pressed her ear to it, just to make sure it was the right one. She doubted that bursting in on a private conversation would endear herself to the ambassador, but she wanted to be waiting right outside when he was done. If there was another way out of the room, she didn’t want to lose him.

“…not a complication. She will be ready for you before the moon–” Goldentongue’s voice cut off.

All sound cut off.

Daring Do had gone deaf. Panic burst in her breast. She stumbled back from the door.

The door opened. The figure staring down at her wasn’t Goldentongue. It wasn’t a pony or zebra at all! It looked akin to a zebra, but was the size of Celestia. It was gaunt and pale with a featureless face and no stripes nor mane nor tail. From its back writhed tendrils of shadow.

Daring Do remembered nothing after that.

Fourth Pad Ends