~It all just disappears, doesn’t it. Everything you are gone in a moment, like breath on a mirror~
-Doctor Who-
In Equestria, two ponies, both Stallions, were trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. One was a Unicorn. He had a light brown coat and a scarlet mane. His partner was a Pegasus. Red with a forest green mane. The two ponies had scaled the outer walls of a long abandoned property. There were no guards, no traps and no visible form of security anywhere within sight, however the pair figured it was better to be safe rather than sorry.
Having only just breached the outer “defences”, the suspicious pair saw their target. A small stone building.
“There it is, Dodge. The entrance to our fortune.” said the unicorn in a rather nasally voice. The Pegasus grinned at the sight of their next goal and turned to the unicorn.
“We’ve been planning this heist for months now. Let’s not get carried away, Handy.” Dodge replied. Handy understood Dodge’s uncertainty at the ease of their access to such a historic place, but their joint excitement was clear as day on both their faces.
The duo cautiously approached the building and took positions on either side of the entrance. With a few practiced hoof signals, the two entered, ready to fight anypony they came across. They discovered a flight of stairs leading down. It seemed their end goal was beneath the ground. This did little to deter them.
As Handy and Dodge descended the stairs, they noticed that the torches on either wall would light up whenever they were within close proximity. A simple enough spell, to light the way of any visitors, be they trespassers or not.
“Something’s off. All the information we gathered on this place indicated that nopony ever returned from venturing down here, yet there’s no security whatsoever.” said Dodge, his instinct for survival kicking in.
“I know how you feel, but you have to remember, it’s been a long time since any ponies tried to raid this place. I’m sure the security has just gotten lax in these later years.” Handy replied, trying to put his friend at ease.
The stairs seemed to go down for miles, and as the two descended, the air grew stale, the dust became stagnant. It took two hours for any change in the path to occur. When it did, the pair were greeted to two massive golden doors. The images of some of the owners’ legacies were inscribed in both text and pictograph. Six ponies, two of each pony race. Dodge and Handy knew their legend well. Handy was tasked with opening the heavy doors. His magic was strong enough, but still he strained.
The effort was great, but the reward was greater. The pair stepped through and the first thing they noticed was the change in the atmosphere. Behind them was naught but stale air and dirty floors caked in dust. But in here, the air was crisp and clear. Dodge could tell it was being filtered in from outside somehow. The two began to look at the scenery before them; they stood before a great hall, one that overshadowed even the Royal throne room of Canterlot. The floors were polished and shined to perfection, the banners of the six ponies on the door were clean and completely in tact, the murals at the end of the hall (which depicted each of the six ponies) were pristine and light resembling that of the sun shone brilliantly through, providing the marble with a flurry of eclectic colours. And standing below the murals were were statues of the same ponies. These statues doubled as Grave stones, the bases fitted with footstones. Dodge and Handy became lost in the sheer splendour of the scene before them.
They then noticed two things, the first was their prize; six gilded items, five of which were necklaces, and the sixth a diamond studded tiara. The second thing they noticed was a throne. This throne sat tall and exuded a long shadow along the middle of the hallway, stopping just a few feet short of the duo. Resting comfortably on that throne was a creature Dodge and Handy had not planned for. With his head resting on his clawed hand, and a leg crossed over the other, his tail resting lazily over the left arm of the throne, a tall silhouette of a dragon, maybe ten feet tall by Handy’s estimate, stared at the trespassers with sharp glowing green eyes whose pupils seemed to contract into needle thin slits. The dragon spoke at first with a fairly light but unmistakable male voice. His words were echoed by a voice that could only be described as demonic.
“Welcome Gentlecolts… to the Tomb of Harmony.”
