Endless Legend

“...that's why we say Sumer ponies literally invented modern writing. Wedge-shaped of symbols were much more effective than old and complicated pictorial writings. It wasn't surprising that other cultures quickly abandoned their own scripts for...“ The voice of the Canterlotian Museum guide drilled its way into Storm's skull. His voice had soporific effect on her, with each word uttered by this stallion her eyelids were heavier and heavier, threatening to finally close and plunge filly in world of dreams. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on point of view, there always was somepony fast enough to poke her side with sharp end of quill before she managed to drop off for good.

It was no different this time. Just when her tired eyelids managed to close for one short second, she felt another twinge in her side. Yelping in pain and surprise, filly jumped a little into the air, fluttering her over-sized wings instilling interest in some and peals of laughter in others.

Even their guide looked at her this time.

“Sand Storm,” the said teacher reproachfully. It was surprising that she managed to sound intimidating, yet professional and tactful at the same time . “I understand that your enthusiasm to learn about all these wonderful artifacts from the past expired when we crossed the threshold of the museum, but could you be respectful enough to allow other ponies interested in today lesson  to actually learn something?”

Storm didn't have to look to know that her teacher was looking down at her while raising an eyebrow. Her teacher was always doing it when somepony was romping.

“Yes, Madam Trotter.” Storm replied, hanging her head.

There was shuffling of hooves and quiet thanks exchanged between their guide and Madam Trotter. The group moved to another exhibit and the lecture started again, even if a little faster and less monotone tone.

It wasn't like Storm didn't like history lessons or visiting museums! They were actually pretty fun in her opinion. She could witness with her very own eyes things and items touched and crafted by ponies who died ages ago. She could see certificates of development and power of an ancient civilizations, how ponies lived hundreds and thousands of years ago!

It was creepy and fascinating at the same time.

She smiled broadly and raised her head, the scolding received from her teacher nearly forgotten.

This smile was noticed by another student, a friend of Storm and the very same pony who relished in poking Storm's side with quill.

“Hey double S.” Other filly caught up to Storm. She was levitating an object of winged filly aversion in a soft glow of her pinkish magic. “Why are you smiling?”

“Oh, a bit at this, a bit at that...” Storm answered, wings hugging tighter to her sides. Her eyes never stopped following the quill nib gently sailing through the air next to its owner. She could swear that its tip was smeared with something red.

Cherry offered her friend a merry smile. “Oh, don't be like that Stormy!” Filly teased, hugging her with one leg. That evil quill floated dangerously close to Storm nose. “Don't you tell me you're upset about my attempts to keep you awake!”

That pink filly's smile was truly infectious.

“Maybe I am, maybe I don't.” Storm grumbly swat the offending quill out of the air. She giggled at her petty victory over her foe, yet her triumph was short lived. One look at Cherry's green eyes was enough to shut Storm's mouth and press both ears to her skull.

“Hey!” Cherry objected. “That's my favorite quill!”

“Then why were you are stinging me with it?” Pegasus remarked. “I think you poked a hole in my flank.” Storm's eyed over her side looking for any damage.

“Oh, don't be silly, it can't be that sharp...” Cherry raised the quill, poking the tip herself to demonstrate. “Ow! Pointy!” She stuck her pricked hoof in her mouth.

“See?” Storm insisted.

“Fillies.” Madame Trotter hissed as she walked by the two. Although she had to silence the two for yet another time this day, she couldn't help but smile at them. Storm and Cherry were good friends with one another, and very energetic fillies. Someday, they will grow to become beautiful and smart mares, someday…

Noticing they had been left behind, Cherry and Storm set their eyes and ears downcast as they rushed to rejoin the rest of their class.

Their guide was now exhibiting a big, black obelisk, made of shining and polished metal. Appearing completely unaffected by ravages of time.

“This one is probably one of the most mysterious in our museum.” The guide described, appraising this item more enthusiastically than the last presentations. "It's named Obelisk of Pisa, and was found near the southern border of the Griffin Kingdom. If you don't know where it is, there's a booklet with map inside. If anypony is interested that is."

The guide gestured at a table with a small colorful stack of brochures. “We don't know much about its origins, it's a mystery as to who created it. We suspect that ponies responsible for its creation had to know metallurgy. To what degree? We are not sure.  The material is really hard, stronger than anything we've ever seen. Probably an alloy made of some unknown metal, or possible that it's from fragments of a meteorite. If you look at these carved symbols, for lack of better word, you may notice that they don't resemble any recorded culture in history. That's the most troubling yet exciting thing about it.”

The guide seemed almost giddy at this point. ”We don't know which civilization should be credited for the creation of this obelisk, but there are opinions in the archaeological and historical community that it's a brand new culture, never...”

The guide's words were lost to Storm as the filly stared straight ahead at black obelisk. She walked closer to the red line separating the artifact from the visitors, staring right at it and leaning closer, unable to believe her own eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, yet found no words that could express her surprise.

This pattern, the writing that baffled every scientist in the Canterlot Academy…

She saw it before.

It was said that they were from across the sea. Faraway shores hidden from safe coasts of Equestria, was their home. A land so distant that no pony has ever ventured, not even the swiftest of pegasi or mightiest of ships were able to reach it. Shores of their homeland unfriendly to any sailor, bristling with spikes of rock and ice, impossible for Equestrian vessels to land.

They said that they came from the Wilderness of Terror, where they arose as foals, born from dark thoughts and curses, different from other Shadows, because in all similar to ponies.

They said that they crawled from beneath the earth. Cruel golems made from filth and clay, controlled by some unknown power.

They said a lot of things.

All of them rubbish.

The truth? The truth is that they have always been here…

Numbness, what a curious feeling…

Dull sensations that spreads all over one's body, making its movements sluggish and imprecise. It can hardly feel anything with its body, be it pain or pleasure.  It was more so annoying than anything. Every movement was met with a pricking sensation, as if thousands of pins was trying to pierce its skin. Sometimes it's accompanied with feelings of of alienation, as if it wasn't the owner of its own body. Just a guest, a watcher.

His every thought and movement feels strange, as if it wasn't in command with its own body, but something unsettling, something alien. It was like if it had slept in an improper position. Constricted blood flow. Or nerve damage.

One particular stallion felt so right now, one that slept far too long.

His body felt... odd. His body ached, but not in such a pain if he had strained a muscle or had been struck, but by lying motionless too long. Unable to move or think, the stallion decided to do one thing, one that was intuitive for all living beings, that would allow him to learn where he was.

The stallion opened his eyes.

Everything was covered in darkness, with only one pale blue light on the border of his field of vision, a groaning pain hit his eyes, forcing him to shut them tight. The small light was enough to make his vision sore, as if he was exposed to it for the first time in many, many years. Grunting, he squinted his strained eyelids more carefully.

He was inside some sort of tube, half-laying on some kind of mattress. It was hard and had lost its color years ago, the frame just a dull gray. Above the stallion's head was a flat piece of dark glass with numerous buttons and keys all spread over. This 'screen' was long nonfunctional and dead.

Looking down, his eyes widened at the discovery numerous needles were impaled into his forelegs, sludge of dessicated liquids inside. How hadn't he felt them before? Unable to form any logical explanation, stallion started to gently pull each needle out of his flesh by mouth, ignoring the burning sensation in his muscles. It was slow and tender work pulling them one at a time, the tube's occupant needing to be especially careful not the make sudden movements. Single drops of blood leaked from Pin sized wounds left in place of each needle over his grey coat. With the last of the needles plucked out, the pony gave a pleased grunt and laid his head back to rest. The whole process had taken a lot out of him.

He woke up feeling hungry more conscious of his surroundings this time. The stallion groggily blinking as he scanned his surroundings. His position inside the pod allowed him to see that his tube wasn't the only one in the room. 'Pods', as he named them in his head, were objects made of metal and glass,  lined up along the walls of the chamber, too numerous to count in his clouded state of mind. The stallion felt that he should know something about them, something important, yet it was just outside his grasp.

He's decided that now wasn't the time to worry about it, his physiological needs being his main priority, the trapped occupant placed both of fore-hooves on the glass lid separating him from the outside world. His feeble forelegs managed to push the lid off with little effort, throwing it aside. They clearly were on their breaking point, the lid detached from its metal hinges with loud creak, falling to the floor with loud banging noise.

Stallion, until he can recall a name he'll have to identify his name as so, winced at the sound, folding his ears tightly. After a short while he perked them up, trying to hear if his actions didn't alarm anything. Just then, he noticed that he had really silly train of thoughts. Why, who would he bother with any noise at this point?

His questions was left unanswered.

Taking deep breaths of cold and stale air, Stallion lifted himself up and pushed himself up out of the pod.

Falling would be more suiting word, as he only managed to propel himself from the soft insides of his pod. His strength failed him as he only managed to place both of his forehooves safely on ground in time. He was too weak to support his own weight, combined with the momentum from stumbling out of the pod. Stallion landed face first,  stunned from the cold the stone floor offered. He didn't expect the cold to be so welcoming, yet he had to say his goodbyes early, already overstaying his hospitality.

Stallion pushed himself up on trembling hooves, ignoring the mild pain on his jaw, he managed to stand properly.

He glanced around tiresomely, seeing that he was standing between two rows of these mysterious pods. Between them, on the ceiling right above the walkway, was a thin line of lamps glowing with pale blue lights. Not all of its segments were working; some were already burnt out, some were twinkling in and out, a few however still giving steady light, so welcoming for the stallion's eyes. The floor, so cold that he could feel it freezing temperature even through his hooves, were made from concrete. Or so he thought, from examining the little grainy surface of it under his hooves.

His attention however were drawn to the other pods. They all were identical at first glance, made of faded gray, weathered material, with glass lids on fronts showing their contents. The lid of his pod lied nearby, a web of fractured formed from its impact, but was otherwise intact, not counting wrenched hinges on the side.

Ignoring it for the moment, he stepped over it, walking up to carefully look over the next pod. It was just like his own, save for the doors. It was sealed tightly as he tried to pry it open, and it looked like nothing was inside. He couldn't tell given the ceiling lamps were too dim to see inside.

He shook his head, not knowing what he was expecting to spot inside, probably clues as to where he was.

Stallion's mind was a mess, seeming to retain basic information. But his thoughts were so chaotic and disorganized, making it hard to think straight.  He focused instead on simple things, like walking and acting in his primal instincts. For now, he was concerned with one thing – his rumbling stomach.

Following the trail of blue light was easy. The cognitive parts of his mind reasoning that these strange lamps had to lead somewhere. He trotted slowly, passing by countless pods like his. Stallion quickly lost sense of time, unable to keep track how long he had been exploring. Minutes turned to quarters, then to hours, it was all mixed up and fluid for him…

Even dwelling on the names of time units were making him dizzy. It was yet another of these memories, things that should be obvious and easy to everypony, yet for some reason it was blocked by... something. He could worry about it later, when his head won't spin every time he tried to think.

When he finally reached the end of the hall he was met with the sight of big, sliding metal door. They were open and askew. A panel with strange buttons was next to it, ripped from the wall, long ago by some unknown force. Bundles of cable and pieces of metal littered the ground all around and buttons, once glowing with life, were now dead. Simple sight of that destruction and erosion made Stallion realize that something was really wrong here, something he was missing…

He glanced back, rows upon rows of identical pods lined under the walls of the hall, some had been opened. Some had been destroyed, glass doors shattered or wrung open. However, he had yet to see any other ponies here, alive or dead.

A chill ran down his spine.

Deciding that he didn't want to be in this room anymore, stallion attempted to climb through the derelict doors. One side was stuck at an odd angle, leaving Stallion no choice but to try wrenching the other bulkhead. With great effort and lots of cursing, he finally managed to slide them enough to squeeze through. Not thinking long about it, he jumped through.

Stallion found himself in dark room. Small lights were seeping inside from the hallway, illuminating small patches on the floor. His eyes squinted to peer better in the dark spaces, looking for anything that could help shed light on his current situation. He stumbled on something lying on the floor, he cursed, barely able to catch his balance before his snout would hit the floor. Disgruntled, Stallion turned around and jumped back into the hallway.

Craning his head high, the stallion noticed objects of his desire – blue lamps. Standing awkwardly on his hind legs and reaching out with his forelegs stallion tried to knock down one of the working panels. A few minutes of awkward flailing later, he managed to get one lamp down, luckily not damaging it too much in the process.  The glow was weak but steady, stallion returned to the room blanketed in darkness, with a new improvised torch in his mouth.

The room looked like some sort of a laboratory left in disarray. Strange devices and scientific instruments were left scattered, thrown around by unknown forces, some were crooked, as floors or walls next to them collapsed. Rubble and broken pipes were strewn everywhere, broken off from the ceiling, protruding from the floors, some of them looked like they were once carrying water, rust covered their broken ends and dark spots painted floor under it. Water dried ages ago, yet it left its permanent mark in few places. The other odd thing he noticed was lack of any labile materials. He didn't see anything outside of glass and metal and even they carries signs of erosion, panel chipped on the edges and foggy while metal was dull and it was was covered with a dark patina.

Stallion noticed the thing he stumbled on earlier, a simple piece of rubble. He kicked it angrily, making it fly across the room. It bounced off the nearest wall, hit one of a few still standing desks shattering fragile glass vials and bottles on it, scattering glass particles all around. Satisfied with this senseless show of an aggression and letting out small, pleased grunt. Stallion moved further, ignoring all other curious devices. They all looked broken anyway. He spared them only a brief glance before moving deeper into the laboratory.

It was much much later when he discovered that these seemingly abandoned halls and corridors weren't empty, he stumbled on their inhabitants accidentally.

When he was exploring rooms along one widest the corridors, his attention was drawn by curious a noise. It was not a familiar sound of moved rubble, or grinding of metal, sounds so common here, where it took the slightest of vibrations to make ancient ceilings and devices crumble. He witnessed it several times as pieces of walls fell of when he simply walked past them. Since then he placed his hooves more gently on the ground, which, considering stallion size and condition, was not an easy feat.

Said sound wasn't soft and rustling as of a paper, nor it was sharp noise of a shattered glass. It was something... else. Stallion recognized this sound, he heard it many many times  before, but he was unable to say when, or even what it was.

His curiosity peaked, he moved towards source of strange noise.

Five creatures were sitting in middle of the room, surrounding one of the numerous devices scattered all over the place, doing... something. Stallion squinted his eyes trying to see the details of each creature, but their distance from the entrance, combined with bad lightning allowed him to see only their vague shapes. Against his innate caution and self-preservation, stallion slowly walked inside the room. This one was not shaped like previous one, looked more like small storage room than anything else. Shelves made of dark, dull metal were lined under each wall, stacked together and moved, probably by strange beings inside to make space more comfortable. Remains of items stored on the shelves lay in heaps in various corners of the room, swept negligently to the nearest corners. Only few surviving cans and bottles were standing proudly all over their destroyed by age brothers and sisters, showing that indeed, once it was a storage. Today? No more than pitiful ruin. Stallion had yet to discover why he knew words like storage room or laboratory. Moving slowly, keeping to the shadows and trying to keep as far as it was possible from possible sources of unwanted noise, like pieces of a glass, fragments of some other unidentified material that lied scattered all over floor. His lamp was of course left behind, it's light slowly dying as it was severed from its source of power, but even in its feeble light would shine like a beacon in this ever present darkness.

Stallion cautious crawl come to an end as he hid behind large, dented and darkened with age, box. He peaked over it, trying to get better look at curious beings resting nearby.

Creatures resembled himself in shape. They had four legs, one head and tails composed of long hair.  But that was where similarities ended. They were all in different shapes. One was big, being over half of a head taller than curious stallion, broad in shoulders and with big, flat hooves, his fur was in color of desert sand. Two of them had horns, sleek and thin creations protruding from middle of their foreheads, their hides were in colors of blues. It was hard to distinguish one from another, but one of them was smaller and graceful in her movements than other. Two next had long ears, flowing down sides of their neck, like long braids, reaching bottoms of their barrels. They were the smallest of gathered creatures, "ponies!" as stallion suddenly remembered. Their hides were of identical, creamy color.

They were all absorbed by something. Their... lips were moving, doing something, letting out curious noises. They were... stallion couldn't remember the name, but he knew that it was a method of a communication. What was communication? Answer to that question should wait. He found himself enthralled by this whole scene, his hunger forgotten for a short while. Their movements, words, gesticulation, faces... it all was familiar.

Stallion grabbed his head as flow of memories and information overwhelmed his mind. Images and feelings rushed at him, he felt it all at once. Joy and sorrow, love and hate, disappointment and fulfillment and even simpler, more primal emotions and feelings. It hurt. He screamed loudly in pain. It was all in there, hidden and stored away, covered in thick layer of dust, forgotten. His memories were forgotten, why? He didn't know the answer. He writhed in pain as set of strong hooves landed on his shoulders, pinning him to the cold ground. Numerous voices filled his ears and he didn't know to who and what they belonged, or if they were even real or not.

Over all of his pain and confusion pierced one, clear voice. It was calling, calling his name. “Six! Six! Wake up!”