Chapters Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Part 3: What happened with the Gun Club
Neighmericans were a funny bunch, Night Glider mused as she flew over the houses, farms and fields of New Jersey, the faint glows of small towns and cities beneath her with the setting sun off in the distance. It cast a rather beautiful yellow glow over the rapidly darkening landscapes. Personally, the Italian-borne pegasus never understood them at times. Their love of guns, for one thing. What was so fun about shooting off a bunch of weaponry making a rather large racket and acting like a general idiot while you hooted and hollered all the while?
She was crazy as evidenced by her signing up to find Neighlantis not to mention being daring enough to date Twilight Sparkle of all ponies, but not that crazy. But nonetheless, some enterprising group of both Neighmericans and some old-money Trottingham types had thought the idea of creating a group devoting to guns to be in Fancy Pants’ words: “A rather smashing idea and a grand enterprise.”
Granted, this idea stretched longer than when Fancy Pants was alive, it actually went back several generations to the Civil War and was thought up by Rainbow Blaze’s -Night Glider didn’t know how many greats- grandfather twice removed. A pony on the Confederate side of the war, Night Glider thought in amusement. The Southerners loved their guns. Almost as they loved their ‘Shine and their fast cars.
Now, when a Neighmerican had an idea of any sort, he would probably seek out a friend or colleague of his to share it with, and think it over. That’s just what happened back during the years of the Reconstruction period. Now, there was a third involved, a former cotton plantation and griffon and zebra slave owner, and when three Neighmericans got together, they would elect a president and possibly a secretary. Then maybe a treasurer given a fourth and given a fifth and the group is ready and able to convene at a moment’s notice.
As Italians are experts in art and design, and the Germanes with engineering capability that was almost frightening at times, the Neighmericans were experts with guns. That was possibly more frightening, at least to Night Glider, than possible Nazi weapons of war. Neighmerican idiots, shooting off weapons. Bang, bang, bang! Like that. Far too much noise for anyone’s liking. Granted, they didn’t just shoot off weapons but discussed them as well at times. But it seemed they mostly shot them off.
In any case, thus was born the Gun Club. A bit on the nose, the name was but it worked and it got its point across and ponies’ attentions. Everyone knew what they were signing up for. Speaking of that…
At it’s height, before weaponry and hunting began to be seen as unfashionable as the years passed and Wall Street went belly-up, the Gun Club numbered some 2,000 members in total all across the states.
Alas, the Gun Club was no more, as after Fancy’s fortune was finally spent on the ill-fated venture to Neighlantis it too fell to the whims of the changing times. Fancy, for his part, didn’t really mind actually. Personally, at only three members during the last days of the Gun Club and a former Great War veteran, he was rather tired of the whole affair.
Nowadays, he and his wife from Prance whom was a rather beautiful mare named Fleur De Lis, -or Fleur Dis Lee. Night Glider was never sure which- lived on a farmhouse making wine from grapes and generally living out the rest of their days in peace. They got their visitors, of course, such as old friends like Sudoku and Spent Thrift but not many. After the Gun Club fell apart and the Neighlantis venture ruined the last of Fancy’s fortunes most of his friends would rather not have bothered with him. Fancy didn’t mind, quality over quantity he had remarked. When life decided to use you as it’s toilet, you found who your real friends were.
Night Glider could get behind that, she thought to herself as she landed on the little gravel driveway leading up to the small farmhouse. A light was on in the kitchen window, and Night Glider sighed in relief. So Fancy was still up.
Knocking gently on the door, she was let in by Fleur, and not for the first time Night Glider felt that little bit self-conscious compared to the Prench noblewoman. Sure, Night Glider may have looked alright to most, but how did you compare to Fleur’s beauty what with her snow white fur and her elegant pink mane? Simple answer, you didn’t. Fancy was a lucky stallion, Night Glider mused to herself. Very lucky indeed.
“Oh mademoiselle,” Fleur said in her soft voice. “Always a pleasure to have you by, non?”
She directed this statement towards Spent, who was washing the dishes and wine glasses in the kitchen alongside Fancy. A radio played in the background, and in spite of herself, Night Glider found herself humming the tune under her breath.
“Ev'ry morning, ev'ry evening Ain't we got fun? Not much money, oh, but honey Ain't we got fun?
“The rent's unpaid, dear We haven't a car But in any way, dear We'll stay as we are
“Even if we owe the grocer Don't we have fun Tax collector's getting closer “Still we have fun
There's nothing surer The rich get rich and the poor get poorer In the meantime, in-between time Ain't we got fun?”
“So, what brings you by?” Fancy asked as he pulled up a seat at the dining room table, tuning the radio off so there would be no distractions. He’d noted the worried look on Night Glider’s face, plus there was the fact that she’d flown all the way from Princeton. “Has to be serious, Celestia knows you’d normally never leave Twilight’s side really. She even know you’re out and about?”
“No, this was something I had to take care of myself, really,” Night Glider sighed as she looked around. “Have any tea? Need something to soothe the nerves really.”
“Ah, it’s like that is it?” Fancy hmmed placing two of his hooves under his chin and stroked his goatee, and Night Glider nodded.
“I’ll see if I can find some, I know there’s some lying about the house somewhere…” Fleur murmured to herself before commenting: “Oh chérie, pourquoi devez-vous gaspiller de si bonnes boissons..?” and shaking her head.
Night Glider also caught something else from Fleur before she walked out of earshot, her remarking something to the effect of: “Amintește-mi să vă învețe unele ‘maniere’ potrivite mai tarziu in seara asta!”
Spent snicked, seemingly at some private joke while Fancy looked clueless. Night Glider gaped wordlessly to herself, at least she had an excuse for not learning Prench but him? The guy was married to a Prench noblewoman for crying out loud!
Then again, Fancy may have been faking, as evidenced by the smirk he sent a now frowning Spent. This was only confirmed by him stating: “Oi! Mintea ta și ochii tăi față de tine, flirtezi.”
While Night Glider didn’t understand a word of Prench, she got the general gist of the remark. The pegasus groaned to herself even as Spent huffed and grumbled something impolite under his breath, she hated getting caught up in matters like this. What a stallion and a mare did in the privacy of their own bedrooms was their own business, she didn’t need to hear about it!
“Anyways…” a now blushing bright red Night Glider remarked as Fleur soon returned with a cup of hot tea levitated in her magenta aura of magic. “Can we get back on topic, please ?”
“Yes… Er, quite,” Fancy agreed, blushing as well. Fleur cast a confused glance between the two, but decided it was better not to know. “So, I can assume you only came out here because you needed advice?”
“Ooh, troubles in your love life?” Fleur remarked in a concerned tone as she sat down next to her husband. “Because I know some rather great remedies that can help improve you and Twilight’s ‘extracurricular activities’ if you get my drif-” she continued cheerfully before being swiftly cut off.
“It’s not THAT! Far from it, in fact!” Night Glider exclaimed in an angry tone, chest fur fluffing up in her fury. “I’ll be happy to have you know we have a very fine sex life thank you ver-” she stated, before smacking herself in the face with a wing realizing what she’d just admitted to even as Spent sniggered in the background.
Spent was sent another look in his direction, before Fancy coughed clearing his throat. “Think nothing of it, my dear, we’ve all had our verbal blunders. I know I’ve had more than a few!” he joked.
“Yes, quite so,” Fleur smirked, and Fancy tugged at his collar in embarrassment.
“Please do continue,” he said, waving his hoof.
“Had a visit from the FBI, of all things,” Night Glider remarked, and Fleur gasped. “Both me and Twilight, scared the ever-loving shit out of me if you pardon my language.”
“What, did they catch you in a… rather compromising position?” Spent smirked, and once more a dirty look was sent in his direction this time by none other than Fleur herself as Night Glider blushed a furious red.
“Do you have a one-track mind?” she asked in a tone of very thinly veiled disgust.
“Apologies,” Spent said, looking a little ashamed of him but not by much. “Won’t do it again. So, if not them catching you and dear Twilight in the middle of something, what was it? Actually, who were the agents? Did they ever give their names?”
“Peace Keeper and Steel Gaze, that’s what they called themselves,” Night Glider replied, and Spent groaned and Fancy sighed to himself rubbing his temples. “What, I assume you know them?”
“Yeah, I know them alright…” Spent grumbled. “So does Fancy, tried to pay us both visits at our homes before we slammed the door shut on them. They didn’t take that very well I imagine, but fuck ‘em real-”
“Langauge!” Fleur admonished, but Spent continued all the same, ignoring her completely.
“Nothing but trouble, that’s all those two ever bring!” he grumbled. “So, what’d they want to hassle you about, considering they failed to bring up whatever it is they wanted with me or Fancy. Can’t be a simple coincidence that they decide to visit survivors of the Neighlantis Trek. ...Hmm, maybe I should give Sudoku a call just in case.”
“No, it’s hardly any sort of coincidence,” Night Glider huffed. “In fact, I suspect they’re on a recruitment drive, given what they went on about. Brought up the Nazis.”
Fleur blinked in shock. “T-The Nazis? Are you sure?”
“Yep, can’t exactly mishear a word like that!” Night Glider replied.
“...Maybe we shouldn’t have turned them away in that case…” Fleur murmured, and Fancy nodded in agreement lighting up his pipe.
“I’ll requote what Peace Keeper said to me,” Night Glider replied, before taking on a mock version of Peace Keeper’s voice. It was a rather good impression if one was to be honest. “Not too long ago, a friend of yours, one Target Quartermane discovered this while out on a dig in Baladi, we’re not sure of the exact details, but we do know a certain Germane dictator wants whatever this … well, whatever this is, and what it may or may not be connected to.”
“And what was this item Target actually discovered may I ask?” Spent remarked, now all business. Night Glider fumbled through her saddlebags for a moment, before she then showed them a crude drawing of the box she and Twilight had been shown.
“Hmm, interesting little trinket. Haven’t seen anything like it…” Spent murmured as he rubbed his chin in thought. “Did they say anything else?”
“Said something about an ancient curse, and eternal life, but even they believed that to be a load of nonsense. They more likely believed Hitler is after gold to fund the war we all know he’s building up to. Still, I sorta get the feeling that they were leaving something out…”
“Of course they are, that’s what they do. They never tell you the full story, really…” Spent grumbled in distaste. “And good luck trying to pry it out of ‘em.”
“I’ll pry it out of ‘em if I have to with my own bare hooves, because I hate being lied to,” Night Glider stated. “...Honestly, since the whole adventure to Neighlantis I’ve lost the taste for grand treks, grand journeys with high stakes.”
“...I think we all have really,” Spent murmured in agreement. “It’s just not us anymore. We were young, foolish. Hell, I never wanted to be on the Neighlantis venture in the first place but if only to bring justice to Greta and her crew and find Neighlantis in her stead,” he murmured, fighting back a sob in memory of his late wife.
“Someone always ends up getting killed in the end, and with my luck, it’ll be Twilight,” Night Glider whispered, Fleur rubbing her shoulders in support. “I… I just… I’m tired of losing people, you understand? That journey brought about far too many deaths. Far too many.”
“You don’t have to accept you know,” Fleur said. “Send those two a letter, tell them to handle their own matters. Surely they have agents in place in Baladi or wherever, let them deal with Hitler’s little plan.”
“No, I have to accept, if only to keep them off my backs and for Celestia and Country. I know it’s a fool’s endeavor, but if there’s a chance to stop Hitler at the gates before he lays siege to some poor country then I’ll gladly accept,” Night Glider stated. “Twilight’s already made up her mind, sadly, and I’m not letting her go to Baladi without me.”
“Well, I suppose I should probably tag along with you,” Spent smiled. “Just to keep you from doing something foolish, y’know?” he winked.
“I’d… I’d like that,” Night Glider replied, fighting back a tear. “T-Thank you Spent.”
“Hey, what I’m here for,” he said with a wily grin some of that old spirit returning if only for the briefest of moments. Then, a thought came to him. “Oh sweet Celestia, I can think of at least one more pony those bastards would try and recruit…” he trailed off, his voice at the barest edges of turning into a growl.
“Wait, you don’t mean…” Fancy whispered in stunned horror.
“Yeah, Grape Vine…” Spent snarled. “The kid, he doesn't need this! He’s got a wife to look after. A child now as well! He’s barely recovered from the Neighlantis venture as it is! Sudoku had him write that ‘speculative fiction’ novel, just as a form of therapy! Just to get it all out there, tell the world what really happened in a way.”
“That settles it,” Night Glider stated. “We’re booking a trip to Florida, back to that old home of yours. You’re flying first class, Night Glider style.”
“But a flight to Florida, that’s over 1,120 miles!” Spent sputtered in disbelief, only for Night Glider to be the one tossing a wink this time around.
“Didn’t I ever tell you, first class winner in the round the country endurance flight championships a few years back. Took the gold medal thanks to a little thing called the Sonic Rainboom.” she smirked, and Spent returned it.
Somewhere over Baladi’s deserts, Daring was experiencing troubles of her own. Just because she’d escaped the Doctor in Luxor, didn’t mean she was out of the woods just yet. Far from it actually. As it had turned out, seemed her pilot had been paid off and was now pointing a gun at her.
“Oh, you gotta be joking…” Daring muttered, before she in a blur of movement kicked the gun out of the pilot’s hands before knocking him unconscious. She then saw the flaw in her little plan, remembering she didn’t exactly know how to fly a plane.
“Oh shit…” she muttered, and rapidly began tossing the plane’s cargo in search of a parachute only to growl in anger. “Idiots, idiots! The whole bloody lot of us! Me, for not seeing this, and that pilot for not keeping a parachute onboard!”
She eyed what looked to be an inflatable raft, and then looked out a window to the Nile river below.
“...You gotta be kidding me,” she muttered even as she threw the door open, icy cold winds rushing up to greet her and biting at her face. “Well, any port in a storm I guess…” she muttered in self-disgust even as she dragged the raft over to the door, and began inflating the raft.
“Right, what was that catchphrase that Brit Doctor liked to spout off every so often?” Daring murmured to herself. “Oh yes… Allons-Y!” she cried, grabbing Target’s hat as she shoved the raft out of the plane and jumped into it. The raft went into free fall for a few moments, before hitting a sand dune sliding down it at high speed dust and sand flying into Daring’s mouth.
She spat some of it out in disgust and her eyes widened in fear as she hit the water, the River Nile carrying her down the waters out of control. She heard an explosion come from somewhere behind her, and felt the searing heat of a fireball, and had just enough time to crane her head as she rounded a bend to see the burning wreckage of the plane’s fuselage. Daring crossed herself with a hoof, and sighed.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad was it…?” she asked no-one in particular as the river slowed to a crawl. She muttered: “Just a few hundred miles to Cairo, just a few hundred miles…” she muttered as she placed her hat atop her head as the scorching heat beat down upon her.
Such was the life of an adventurer, never a dull moment. Or in other words, never any chances of getting a break.
Author's Note
Okay, so maybe not my finest work, but on possibly a tight schedule here as I may be leaving for Alabama again tomorrow. I just did what I could. And maybe that was enough in some areas. Also, apologies for the lateness of this chapter, don't take a cue from my book and run multiple stories like I do ay once ladies and gents! Okay, maybe the scene with Daring wasn't needed, the homage to Temple of Doom but I liked it, and I did want to continue her side of things.
Anyways, as ever, comments, thoughts and critique are welcomed.
From the Personal Memoirs of Special Agent Peace Keeper, FBI.
(Highly classified, do not read unless you have explicit permission. That means you, Steel Gaze!)
Okay, suppose I really should make a personal apology to both Twilight and Night Glider. I lied, no two ways about it. I lied, right to their faces about Target Quartermane’s status. Okay, some may view it as omitting certain truths but I view it as lying. Sooner or later, the truth will out. What’s that old saying?
Oh yes. Half a truth is often a great lie. Made by Benjamin Franklin. Great pony, never quite sure if he actually did the famous kite experiment but the point still stands. Here’s another, made by one Charles Spurgeon. A lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is putting on its shoes.
Starting to get the point yet? I write these memoirs, for later dates reading so just in case everything is ever to go sour, and theFührer is ever to get his hands on great riches and wage war upon the world and place his iron hoof upon us everyone shall know where I stood. What I did, and how badly I, and if you pardon my language, fucked up at times.
Yeah, I lied, and at the time I thought it best to omit certain truths to spare feelings, but right now… I’m not so sure. I’m not so stupid as the public, I actually know a certain speculative fictional novel billed as a ‘What if?” actually being the truth. The irony isn’t lost on me, I confess. Me just talking about lies, and now here I am mentioning a book that’s one great big lie to the public in some ways.
Steel Gaze would probably want me to keep my mouth shut, I’m not sure, but I feel as if a great weight’s been put on my shoulders, just keeping my mouth shut as I am. Personally, I feel right now as if I should say something. After all, Target was their friend. A great friend, and a sister to some of them I’m willing to bet.
Yeah, I should say something. It’s the right thing to do after all. And this is in no way related to my marefriend staring me down the neck. I was raised in a Faustian family after all, and lying, in my family even if it’s for a good cause is viewed as a sin. Maybe I’m not as devout as some of my parents, considering I’m a special agent now which means I do have to lie a lot but on this particular case I do feel as if I’m committing an act of sin against the Lady Faust herself that may damn me.
Yeah, I may walk through the valley of death, and I may fear no evil 'cause I'm blind to it all plus my mind, along with my gun they may comfort me but the fact that I’m saying a member of someone’s family is alive when in reality they aren’t… Well, I’m not walking on the path of the righteous because I know I’m so very wrong indeed. So very wrong.
I’ve given this a lot of thought, really. I have to tell. I must. Night Glider, she’s far from a stupid mare from what I can tell, chances are she’s probably onto me. Hell, I wouldn’t bet against her going off to run and tell her old crewmembers about me and Steel. Still can’t believe, or maybe I can that Spent tried to shoot at us with his shotgun. Suppose we deserve that much, I guess. We did wind up getting the eventual love of his life killed. They say you only love once in your life, and in a way we’re partial to Greta’s murder so that’s more damnation for us, I suppose.
Okay, that was just my Marefriend slapping me upside the head for being, and I quote: “An idiot.” Suppose I should devote a little of this entry to her. Or maybe quite a bit, considering by Faust I love her and I have a tendency to ramble as if you couldn’t already tell by this and previous entries.
Her name’s Maud Pie. She’s from an Amish family, we originally met up when she was about sixteen or so -So yes, one of those teenage romance type things- when she was off on her Rumshpringa as it’s called. As I best understand it, and you’ll have to forgive me for any errors made as I’m hardly any expert, the Rumshpringa or Rumspringa, if you prefer, is a rite of passage for the Amish. Whenever a member of the family reaches the age of fourteen, they go out on a journey and leave the community. Now, the Amish, you must understand sorta live off the grid and as part of their religion don’t use modern day technology. No cars, no radio, none of that sort. However, during the Rumshpringa when one leaves the community that can change as they enter the modern age for good or for ill. From what my dear Maud tells me, Amish elders generally view it as a time for courtship and finding a spouse. Now, obviously that’s what happened here, but more on that later I think.
Usual behavioral restrictions are relaxed, and this is simply because this way the Amish youth can acquire a better view of the outside world. Knowledge, experience, and all that. Like I said, for good or for ill. I couldn’t blame Maud if she decided to stay Amish, given how crappy our world is right now. Banks have gone bust, and the Führer’s gearing up for war as we speak. A side note, if I may. Judging by practical results, rumspringa can probably be deemed largely successful for the most part. 80%, sometimes even 90% of Amish return to their communities instead of living their lives in the modern world. Not that I could blame them, really. Maud’s just one of those rare exceptions.
She’s from Indiana, I should say. Comes from a small town called, aptly enough from what I hear, Rockville. Apparently, quite famous for its gem mines and the sturdy housing materials it produces. Now Maud, growing up in this town, can tell you anything and everything about a specific mineral or gem or rock or whatever you need. Sorta like a metallurgist, but for rocks. Believe me, when the time came for our wedding, she did sorta nag me about what type of gem was the best cut and was best suited for our rings. Now that… that was something to be seen. I still get a few jokes from Steel Gaze about me marrying a mare who’s greatest passion is rocks, but he can kindly shut his trap for all I care.
Anyways… Now, the curse laid upon Cadence. Do I believe in it or not? Now, I’ve seen a lot of strange shit over the years, stuff that would turn you white but even this I find hard to believe. I mean, bringing down the biblical plagues, including quite possibly the Angel of Death herself? Hell, maybe I’d rather not believe if I want to sleep soundly at night.
But whatever the case, real or not, the fact remains that there was a mare named Cadence in the time of Seti as historical records are beginning to show, and there are quite a few tombs in the area where she was supposedly laid to rest that contain a Hell of a lot of gold. Gold the Führer would very much like to get his grubby little hooves on. Sent one of his best agents of the infamous Gestapo after these tombs, the legendary Dr. Caballeron to go after it with a huge number of soldiers in tow armed to the tooth. Nasty sorts, mercs, and polished soldiers alike. Even heard rumors of a griffon amongst them, though I’m not sure how true that is given how bigoted the Führer is towards anypony not part of the so-called Master Race. By the Lady Faust, I hope that plan I’ve heard the British Secret Service are cooking up to turn the Führer into a mare and make him kinder to the world is all it’s cracked up to be. Yes, I’m not making that up. They’re actually planning such a thing. Hope it might make him call off the war, they say. Just infuse him with chemical doses of estrogen and give him the motherly traits of a mare.
As the Prench like to say… C’est la vie. Guess desperate times call for desperate measures. Apparently really desperate. Even Maud’s laughing at the sheer prospect of this idea, and she’s not one to show emotion normally. As for how I even know about this supposedly highly classified idea, Steel Gaze apparently has friends in the British Secret Service. Who’d have thunk? He was always a pony to make friends easily enough. I repeat, C’est la vie.
Maud Pie’s Personal Diary:
Now, my husband probably is worrying about the happenings in Baladi and Germaney and the like, so I suppose I should give my own thoughts on the matter. Yes, I am worried although I do not show it. Some may call me emotionless, though that is far from the truth. I’m worried about my culture disappearing, vanishing into the mist as the Führer grinds it to dust under his soldiers and their hooves.
I’ve noticed him antsy about certain things as of late, maybe him lying to those ponies about their friend’s unfortunate demise or the Neighamerican military failing to start gearing up for war. Because make no mistake, war is coming. A mind like the Führer’s, it can think of nothing else but war. And that little British Secret Service Plan he mentioned in his memoirs? Stupid to the very last. Now, I’m no chemist nor do I ever have any ideals on being one -Geology is more my speed- but even I can guess dosing the Führer with estrogen would upset the chemical balance of the body. Might make him even angrier if nothing else. Why must us mares be the sensible ones at times?
Now, I suppose I should tell you, I suppose, how someone like me and someone like Peace Keeper met. Yes, it was during my Rumshpringa. I’d decided to take a trip to Manehatten of all places. I’d heard of the bustling city and it’s beautiful lights, so that was my first stop on my tour of the country before I returned home to Rockville and my family farm. I stopped in a local shop for a cup of coffee and some donuts -I distinctly remember there being this showmare and her unicorn assistant with a southern accent there that day- and there he was.
Just sitting quietly in the back of the room sipping a cup of ‘Joe’ as he apparently calls it. Wasn’t disturbing anyone, just reading the daily newspaper -the Manehatten Tribune- and playing a game of chess with himself. I suppose I decided it looked rather sad for a stallion to play a game by himself, so I decided to join in. I’d picked up knowledge of the game on my travels, so I knew a few things. Not as much as he did, apparently, as he checkmated me. We got to talking, Peace Keeper deciding to teach me some of his moves and the like and things sorta progressed from there. It was just one date, then another, and I suppose over that period we fell in love. I admit, it was a tough choice electing not to go back to my home and my family but love’s a curious thing. Peace Keeper himself says it can make one man weep, another man sing. He should be a songwriter really. Maybe he was in another life.
I admit, I’ve shown interest in making it into Princeton or Pranceton or whatever they call it. I’d like to be a licensed geologist, not just one by hobby. I have the knowledge, I just don’t have the money.
It’s a funny thing, I heard this British Lord named Thorax -A changeling- enrolled his daughter Ocellus into the school. Mind you, his brother Pharynx protested quite fervently I hear in enrolling his only niece into the school but Thorax overruled him. Money can get you anywhere these days, it’s just a lot of us don’t have a lot of it to go around really.
Damn shame. But that’s the fate of the world, I suppose. Maybe if there’s one good thing about Neighamerica going to war against the Führer -If anything about war can ever be considered ‘good’- then it would kickstart the economy again. Workers would be offered jobs, factories would start up again in creating destructive engines to wage war.
Hmm, maybe Peace Keeper’s right at times. Maybe an Amish mare leaving her community isn’t always for the best. I’m starting to think like a regular Neighmarican. Thinking of things like needless bloodshed and the like. Or maybe I’m thinking logically, I don’t know.
But my fate is sealed, I’m part of a wider world now. A much wider, much stranger world. Filled with things I couldn’t possibly have imagined back on my family’s simple rock farm. Like dragons for instance. I never thought they existed but if the rumors from Princeton are true they apparently do. I picked up a book on them, speculative fiction mind you, but if any of it’s true they’re a curious bunch. Personally, I doubt this book I picked up to have any truth to it unlike Peace Keeper seems to for whatever reason but I digress.
Maybe it’s possible this dragon came from elsewhere, like somewhere in the UK or maybe the Norwegian Fjords like the legendary dragon Fáfnir. Maybe this Cynder is a distant relation. Who is to say, really?
A friend of Peace Keeper’s, an immigrant from Prance called Flashfire always said this: “Legends are material to be moulded, and not facts to be recorded.”
Good quote, if I must say so myself.
Nice stallion, enjoys a good intellectual debate from time to time if Peace Keeper is to be believed. Used to captain this trading ship, the Piercing Arrow before it got sunk by this creature.
What creature? Apparently, it’s called the Léviathan if Flashfire is to be believed. He said on it: “I've always been interested in oral traditions and mythological stories and legends from antiquity that have to do with nature, attempts to explain mysterious or puzzling, or very striking phenomena from nature. Things that people observed or heard about in nature. But I’ll be damned if I ever want to see that beast again.”
Seems reasonable enough. Oh, there’s another trait I’ve picked up from my husband. Rambling. Granted, I could have picked that up from cousin Surprise or my little sister Pinkie but I’d place my bets on my husband. Who’s to say, really? Who is to say?
From the Personal Memoirs of Special Agent Peace Keeper, FBI.
Yes, it must be done. The truth must be let slip. I’m calling Fancy Pants again, I still have his number after all. I’m going to call him and ask to meet him at his little house down in New Jersey. Maud’s coming as support, after all this cannot nor should it be easy.
He, along with everyone else I can find that’s still alive from the Neighlantis venture deserves to know the truth. The truth I so easily kept from them. It’s all too easy for a man to become a monster, and perhaps in a way I have.
The Truth will out, that’s the saying. They’ll probably hate me, and they would have every right to but the truth must out. Already feeling phantom pains from the punch that’s sure to come from Spent Thrift. I shall prepare an ice pack.
On other related subjects, I recently got a telegram from Daring over in Baladi. She’s escaped Dr. Caballeron and the Gestapo for now and is in route to Cairo to get back to the states to rejoin us. Thankfully for small victories, she managed to get the box she and Target acquired here to us, but she herself is not out of danger. She’s one of our most trusted agents, and I would not like for her to fall into Nazi clutches.
But I have faith in her, Daring’s got this certain cunning about her. She’s one of the best, and for a woman she’s got balls if you excuse me saying so. Hell, it’d take balls to change your name to something Belgian and enter in the trenches of the Great War and battle neck-deep at Verdun for crying out loud.
She’s crazy, but in that good way. It takes a certain type of crazy to join up with the FBI and travel around the world hunting for treasure and evade the Gestapo to keep them from getting their hooves on it. It takes a certain kind of crazy to go deep into enemy territory and disguise yourself, as I’ve heard she’s done at times, and gain information on enemy tactics. Hell, it takes a certain kind of crazy to dress yourself up as the opposite gender and fool everyone, along with that certain amount of cunning I mentioned before. But that’s Daring ‘Danger’ Do for you. She’s a mare on a mission, one that cannot be stopped unless you shoot her in the head. Wish we had more ponies like her on Faust’s good earth, because the Lady knows we’re probably going to need them in the coming days. War’s on the horizon. It’s only a matter of when.
Daring… Now that is a mare to be admired.
More admirable than myself I believe.
Now, if only I had the balls to stop talking to myself and take one hoofstep out the door and to my car, and drive to New Jersey.
Easier said than done really, but my mind and my body are prepared. I think.
Author's Note
Okay, so yeah... Decided to try something different from my normal style of writing for this chapter. Diary and Journal entries. Inspired by reading a little too much of Dracula I think.
But yeah, some of the things said here, like the plan to make Hitler a kinder softer person by dosing him with Estrogen actually were thought up believe it or not. And like Maud said, the effects thought up would not happen. It would have actually pissed him off even more. Gee, who'd have thunk?
Now Maud, aside from doing a lot of research on the Rumspringa this is actually the first time I've written her character so if she's off in any way I apologize. Same goes for Peace Keeper, Not So New.
As ever, feedback is welcomed.
Part 5: The Early Drums of War
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Part 6: A Country Boy can survive
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Part 7: The Heartbreak of Trixie Lulamoon
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. The December of 1934: Baladi
Ancient dust swirled around the old tomb as a light-green mare bent closely towards the ground. A protrusion from the ground was slowly revealed as she expertly brushed, carved and chiseled out a possibly thousand-year-old artifact.
“Oh, hot damn. We’ve struck gold, ponies!” The mare smiled and turned, wrapping the clay pot in protective cloth as she trotted back to the main dig site. She developed a bit of a skip in her step as she sing-songed through the tomb.
“Got my money, got my bits, got my ticket, now I’m rich!”
Then the hall filled with the sound of bloody murder. Like an unearthly howl, something cut through the hallways, and nearby burst Target’s ears as a sharp chill ran down her spine. The pot dropped, shattering into a million pieces on the floor below.
“Hey, did anyone else hear… that?” Target started, before trailing off as she entered the next chamber. Diggers, clad in white robes lay dead on the floor as scarab beetles gnawed on their bodies.
“Agh…” Target gagged. “What the fucking hell?”
“So glad that you could join us, Miss Quartermane.” The voice was accompanied by a smug chuckle that reverberated throughout the dig site. A gun cocked, and then metal was pressed against the back of her head. She heard car doors shutting, and the sounds of ponies conversing in Germane. Shouting, really.
“Dr. Caballeron,” Target sighed. “Here to take credit for another treasure you didn’t find?” There was a laugh from above, followed by the swift strike of metal against her skull. Target fell to one knee as she glared up at Cabelleron. “So, what now? Gonna kill me like the rest?
“Oh, hardly my dear,” Caballeron replied with a gentle smile. “Wouldn’t be in my best interest to kill the one pony who actually knows their way around this tomb, unlike these apes with guns. Dummköpfes, really.” he said, gesturing to his men.
Target spat at him.
“Oh, don’t give me that, fräulein,” Caballeron waved his hoof and she was pulled back up. “You’re going to be a great help to me, really. After all, you’re about to become part of history itself! First treasure hunter buried with their own treasure. Meanwhile, I get the glory! Search her!
A Lee-Enfield rifle was taken from Target, who groaned before speaking.
“And yet look who you associate with.” Target glared at the uniformed guards standing next to him. A symbol that all the world recognized was pinned on their jackets. “Don’t think that being friends with Nazis wins any points with most of the archaeological community, really,” Target deadpanned.
“I am simply an archaeologist for hire, in the times when I’m not off hunting my own riches and rewards. I take any job for the highest bidder; even if it is a bit grizzled.” Caballeron looked at the black eagle patch on his vest, brushing it softly with the back of his hoof. He made his way down the dig site via rope, until he was finally inches away from her. “Plus, it keeps me from loafing around all day when I could be stretching these old bones. Now,” he said, stroking her brown mane while leveling his own pistol on her. “Lead on. You know this place like the back of your hoof, no? I alas, don’t.”
“You have my sympathies.” Target deadpanned. I hope I step on a trap and skewer his brain with a poison-tipped arrow. In a barely audible echo, Target caught some of the soldiers and their rambling.
“Verteilt, der Führer möchte, dass dieser Ort von oben bis unten gereinigt wird, keine Ausnahmen!” shouted what seemed to be the pony in charge.
“Shit,” she swore under her breath. Her germane was a little rusty, but it had sounded like. ‘Spread out, the Fuhrer wants this place cleaned out from top to bottom, no exceptions’. Well, either that, or they were here to install a swimming pool.
“Und wenn ‘andere’ zu sehen sind, töte sie. Ich will nicht, dass irgendwelche Zeugen Dinge vermasseln.”the lead soldier continued, gesturing for his troops to fan out.
‘And if there are any “others” on sight, kill them. Don’t want any witnesses messing up things .’
“Go to Baladi, they said!” Target whined, her voice overflowing the halls. “It’ll be fun, they said!” She started to struggle, but when the cold metal pressed further against her skull she relented. “Can’t I ever catch a break?”
A dark chuckle emitted from behind her. “Sure,” Caballeron offered, “we can break all of your legs when we’re done with you.”
Eventually, Target led the Doctor and his troops down a stairway into the room she’d stumbled across before. There was a small lake in the middle of the room that was fed via underground river, and at the far end of the room itself, was a sarcophagus gilded in gold. Two statues of Anubis holding golden sickle swords called khopesh were on either side of it.
Target smirked to herself. I might be able to make quite a splash if I send one of those tumbling down. A few charges here and there, and…
“Oh, no, my lovely fräulein,” he said with a shaking of his head, gun still pointed at Target. “Do not think you are getting away that easily. We have business to which we must attend.”
“Maybe think about pointing your guns away from me, then? The fear of being riddled with bullets does little good for my conversational skills,” Target quipped.
“I do not take pleasure in hurting a mare—especially one such as yourself—but these boys? They definitely will.” Caballeron just hung back while the troops, still with their guns poised, barked at her in Germane to hurry on up.
“Right, right, just keep telling yourself that,” Target muttered as she tuned him out. The soldiers nearly drooled over the artifacts in front of them.
Target had to keep her jaw from going slack; gold, gems, all sorts of things were scattered about. The most curious thing, though, was a little brown box that was fairly drab except for that fact that it was in the shape of a star. A star marking the Eye of Horus. Without these features, it would have gone unnoticed really. The guards, distracted by more treasure then they could possibly carry, didn’t notice as she pocketed it. There was a howling gust of wind in a place where it shouldn’t be possible, and Target couldn’t suppress a shudder.
“Well, here you are. Riches beyond measure,” she grumbled in distaste.
“Perfect.” Caballeron smiled as he entered the chamber. “Now that you’ve fulfilled your purpose, these rottweilers are going to dispose of you. Honestly, I’ve used many mares the same way, but you perhaps were one of the more satisfying.”
He watched the soldiers move in and surround her and Caballeron mimed tipping a hat. “It’s been a pleasure, miss. But time is money, after all; and money is the be all and end all magnificent world we live in.”
Suddenly, shouting came from somewhere behind both Caballeron and Target, followed by the distinct sound of an old Luger going off several times. One of the soldiers fell to the chamber floor, blood oozing from a hole in his head.
“What the-?” Caballeron shouted as he saw the soldier fall. Then, he watched as a ‘soldier’ pulled off her hat to reveal a black mane with gray streaks in it. Her coat was a golden tint, and she bore violet eyes that Caballeron knew quite well. Her entire body was also surrounded with a golden aura, the angels singing into the cave… or no, that was in my head.
“Sorry to spoil your fun, Caballeron, but… The balloonist’s coming with me.” Daring winked.
Take a little trip over the continent one time in a hot air balloon and they never let it go...
“Daring Do?” Caballeron balked. “I should have known you’d show up to the party sooner or later. But, fun time’s over,” he sighed as he pointed his gun at her chest.
“Oh, so quick,” Daring smiled. “A stallion only interested in the climax. So much for foreplay.” she teased, a grin spreading across her face. “But, I suppose in this case, that’s a good thing. Like I said, Target’s coming with me.”
“Well I’ll send you both along then,” Caballeron cocked the pistol. “To the afterlife!” He opened fire on Daring, shots ringing across the room as she took flight.
The room exploded in gunfire. Target and Daring dove for cover, ducking behind pillars and rocks as bullets whizzed past them. Luckily, or unlucky, most of the soldiers had a complete lack of firing disciple. Magazines clattered to the ground as they sped through bullets like it was going out of style. Daring Do tossed her something heavy and familiar, and Target smiled as she was reunited with her dear old friend.
Sleek, polished metal and perfectly accurate, she was all mine. Target raised the Lee-Enfield and took aim down the sights. Her breathing slowed, the rifle steady, and in a smooth, slick motion, pony after pony fell before her.
Target and Daring rushed out into the main chamber, bullets nearly grazing their flanks -some actually doing so- before they took solid cover behind the Anubis statues. Between them and the only way out, a large open hole, was a platoon of soldiers.
“So, how far ahead did you think this through?” Target shouted, over the din of machine gun fire “Or were you making this plan up like you usually do? Target continued, “I still can’t believe you’re actually real.”
“Take a photo, it’ll last longer.,” Daring smirked. ”Then you can oogle my flank all you want.”
“I-I’m married!” Target sputtered. “What the flying feather are you doing here anyways, trying to swoop in on the score as well?”
“To be honest, I’m just here for Caballeron,” Daring said as she aimed her ‘borrowed’ Lugar at a soldier as he was reloading, scoring a headshot. “You, well, you were just an unexpected surprise. I’ve been watching the Doctor’s movements for weeks, hiding undercover as one of his men. Really, I’m honest to Celestia surprised that he didn’t notice me earlier. Then again, he rarely notices anything that’s not gold and shiny.
Target swore. “Looks like I wasn’t the only one paying my diggers. Shouldn’t be surprised really, in this part of the world, and in this day and age, ponies will do anything for a quick buck.”
“Yeah, you had a rat in your little band, told Caballeron all about your little discovery,” Daring replied as she shot down another soldier. “And yes, I actually do have a plan, now that you mention it. So, after we make it to that skylight, we—”
“You only came up with this plan just now, didn’t you?” Target deadpanned. “Soon as you saw that open hole,”
“Caught me red-hoofed I’m afraid,” Daring admitted with a sheepish blush. “But, if we can get up through there, we can make a dash for the Doctor’s car, and head for Luxor and get someplace safe. There’s something more to this tomb, I just know it, it wouldn’t be just chosen at random. Call it mare’s intuition.”
“Can do you one better, in that case, presuming we survive this!” Target shouted, as another volley of bullets flew by her head, just barely missing her. She took a shot with her rifle, and downed another soldier. “Got a Bentley up above, easily can outrace whatever Germane crap those guys have!”
“Perfect,” Daring smirked. “Willing to follow my lead on this?” she asked, pulling out a smoke bomb.
Target stared at her for a moment, and then grinned. “I love you.”
“I thought you were married?”
Then Daring lobbed the grenade at the soldiers with the pin pulled, then shot at it with her pistol. In the confusion caused by the explosion, she grabbed Target and they both flew up outside back into the ruined excavation site.
Luxor:
The orange rays of the setting sun fell upon the fine city of Luxor as tires screeched and swerved along its streets. Black leather, smooth black paint, and two fine mares stepped out before they both fell over from exhaustion.
“My car!” Target slammed her hooves against the now bullet-ridden metal. The poor Bentley creaked and groaned, bits of shrapnel falling away. “Fancy Pants is going to kill me!”
“That’s the one he gave you before Neighlantis right?”
Target gaped at her, and Daring snorted.
“Y-You know about that?” Target stuttered out.
“Well, yeah,” Daring replied. “How stupid do you think I am? The public may buy into that crap you told the press, naive as they are, but I’m not quite so moronic. Plus, there's that book, Going Deep Under which is billed as a speculative novel yes, but too many things that are too well-researched and too much shit that’s too unbelievable to be made up.”
Target muttered something under her breath about know it all ponies who deserved to be shot.
Daring grimaced at the small bullet holes that had torn through her outfit. “Geez, I like hot ass , not hot brass …” Daring shoved a bundle of robes she’d bought from a nearby vendor into Target’s forelegs. “Here, dress yourself up, and keep your voice down. Walls have ears, you know.”
With that, they set off amongst the city streets.
Nearby, a pony sat dressed in the traditional Saddle Arabian garb. In his hooves was a wooden instrument, which he played to a king cobra in a basket, making the reptile sway back and forth in time with his movements. It was quite fascinating really, possibly deadly, but fascinating.
"How does he…?” Target trailed off. Seeing her curiosity, Daring explained.
“The charmer himself,” she told her, “becomes one with the music and the motion.” She stepped next to the snake and swayed with the rhythm. “And the snake follows, a slave to its harmony.” And for a moment, she danced, both deadly predators, both trapped within the melody.
“Well, that’s reassuring.”
Daring flipped a coin to the charmer. “Lovely as always, Serpentine.”
The snake charmer looked up a moment later, but all he saw was the black hijabs of two mares walking away from him.
“Alright, so where are we staying?” Target looked around, eyebrow raised. The sun had finally set, and a chilly wind was pressing against their backs.
“I’ve already taken care of it. I even found some colts that’ll fix up that fancy car of yours.”
“That’s… not gonna be cheap.” Target stopped and raised a hoof to protest.
“Don’t even think about it. It’s already done.” Daring Do patted her on the withers. “Consider it payment for that show you put on down there.”
Target simply shook her head as they entered their room for the night and tossed off their robes to reveal their normal attire underneath. She moaned in pleasure as she flopped down on one of the bedsheets. “Finally, a real fucking bed!” Her spine gave an appreciative crack as she stretched out.
“Now that we’re comfy, and well, not getting shot at, you mind spilling it?” Daring plopped down on her own bed and eyed Target like well, a target. “I don’t mind getting shot at when I’m carrying some priceless artifact, but really? How did you piss them off that badly?”
Stirring herself, Target groaned. “Right, suppose I owe you that much. It had started out simple enough: just dig up a suspected tomb in the Valley of the Kings. Mind you, my first batch of builders ran off after a floor gave way. Things about curses had been tossed around, not that I bought into that. It was entirely possible that the tomb hadn’t been built properly and of course the floor was going to fall out from under them. I can always find more diggers, I guess. Stallions will do anything for a mare, especially if she has bits and a cause.”
“Are they always so easy?” Daring asked. “If you gave a buck a bit and told him parts of your nation’s heritage were in serious danger of being lost forever to quite literally the sands of time, he’d help you right quick.” Daring cocked a brow. “Especially if the pony that’s asking is a cute mare.”
“...Even if I had to keep reminding them I was happily married,” Target grumbled. “But that’s simply the way it worked; money is everything in this part of the world, and even the tiniest amount could pay to feed someone’s family for a month.”
“Whoever finds the tombs, and gets the artifacts back to Cairo, they earn their places in the history texts in Princeton or wherever. Dog eat dog, this field can be at times,” Daring replied in a quiet tone, and she’d nodding her head to every word Target had said. “So yeah, I can see where you’re coming from. But right now, get some sleep. If it helps chase off the nightmares, I can kindly cuddle up with you if ya want…” Daring teased.
“Shaddup…” Target muttered, before flicking off the light switch.
Morning came, and the pair were already in the hotel lobby. Daring was plotting over breakfast on how to get Target out of the city. Breakfast was some simple bread which had been cooked in an oven alongside some Falafel.
“Now, Luxor’s far from being Baladi‘s biggest city,” Daring had explained to her cohort. “But even this place has an airport.”
She gestured with a fountain pen to a spot on the map of the city and circled it with black ink. “We need to get as far away from Dr. Callaberon as possible, least till the heat’s off.”
“You think he’s got members of the Gestapo in the city?” Target asked, her eyes visibly widening in surprise.
“It’s possible, but far more likely he’s paid off some locals. Not the first time he’s done that when dealing with me. I remember one time when I had acquired a sapphire idol themed after Anubis from an ancient temple, the not so good doctor sent these guys with swords after me. Not a pleasant experience, let me tell you, running through the streets of Cairo in the middle of the summer with guys with scimitars coming after you. Gets the blood pumping, sure, but…” She shrugged. “Not pleasant.”
“I can imagine,” Target replied, eating some of her falafel. “Geez, when I thought I left the British Army, I thought I’d seen the end of my fair share of action. Guess I was wrong.”
Daring laughed at that. “Lady, if you wanted a nice quiet retirement, you’re in the wrong line of work. I mean, and this is all personal opinion mind you but me? I think you and I are a lot alike. We both want a grand old adventure. Because here you are, digging up tombs and risking sandstorms and raiders, and now the friggin’ Gestapo!”
“Yeah, think I’ve learned my lesson. After this is all over, I’m finally settling down,” Target sighed to herself. “...Celestia knows it’ll take a load off my husband’s mind. Stallion’s a shrink, so you can imagine how much stress he already has to deal with on a day to day basis,” she chuckled.
Daring snorted. “Yeah, I can. Hard to imagine you married to a psychologist of all things, but you meet all sorts. I suppose anyone who’s crazy enough to do the things you have is crazy enough to marry themselves to someone who’s constantly trying to get inside your brain and figure you out.”
“What about you?” Target asked. “You ever think of settling down, putting down roots with someone?”
Daring laughed once more. “Me, no. Hardly. First things first, it’d take a special type of stallion just to handle me and my… flighty personality.”
“Oh, I can think of a few,” Target replied, an image of a distinctive black-coated stallion with a pure white mane who, in her mind, could probably use some love in his life. “Trust me, I can.”
“Playing matchmaker huh, hon?” Daring replied. “Suit yourself, but for the time being this mare is staying single. Marriage changes a mare. Not always for the better really if you ask me. Makes them all soft, and wants them to stay around the house more and dote on their husband.
She grimaced in disgust. “You just happen to be the exception to the rule because your husband only turned out to be as much of an adventurer as yourself. And before you say something about those long, cold and lonely nights, I can easily pick somepony up off the street with my feminine wiles. I’m an attractive mare, remember?” She smirked and wiggled her flank from side to side.
“Fair enough…” Target admitted. “You get to sleep with anypony you want. Congratulations…” Target rolled her eyes. “Now, if only you can figure out how we make it to the airport.”
Author's Note
Okay, so it's finally up. Now, Dreams of Ponies, massive and I cannot emphasize this enough, but massive help working on this chapter. Helped me cut out every bit of unneeded exposition that was present, and generally chop this chapter down from it's original 7,000-word glory to less than 4,000. Bits that were removed, car chase scene and Target being a bit more uncaring about the lives of her diggers amongst others.
That was my key goal here with this chapter, give Target a lot more personality than she had in Going Deep Under. There, she was this kind mare, who happened to be an adventurer and sharpshooter married to a shrink. Here, we actually see more of her personality.
Now, neither of us are perfect, so any comments and critique are so very welcomed.
Part 1: The Curse of the Medjai
Author's Note
Okay, two things. Okay, actually three. First off, no excuse for the late update. Seem to be heading in the Going Deep Under direction of updates, really. Secondly, I apologize if any bad memories of the Tom Cruise version of the story are brought up, I'm just not trying to do a straight-up retelling of the 1999 film. I want to add my own twists and such to it, you know? Finally, huge thanks to Thunderclap for co-writing the marketplace chase and airport shootout with me.
Part 1: The Curse of the Medjai
“So, explain to me why we’re here again?” Target grumbled as she and Daring entered Luxor’s library, once again in their disguises knowing Caballeron could- No, make that would have agents everywhere. “I mean, shouldn’t we be making a break for you know where, not standing around in some dusty old library? I’m all for a good book every now and then, but not really the time I should say.”
Daring pulled out the star-shaped box Target had pilfered from that tomb back in the Valley of the Kings. “Know your enemy, that’s the simple fact of the matter. Why that tomb? What’s so important about it?”
“You mean aside from gold and riches beyond imagination to fund the Fuhrer's war efforts?” Target deadpanned, an eyebrow raised.
“Yes, yes. But they could go to any old tomb for that,” Daring pointed out as she began pulling books off the shelves in a frenzy, grabbing anything related to Baladi’s history. “Caballeron, he seemed awfully dead-set on pilfering that tomb in particular. There’s got to be something more here. Something we’ve missed. Hell, for all we know it could be staring us in the face and we may not even know it!”
“Or we could be on a wild goose chase, and we could be just running around like a pack of chickens with our heads cut off while Caballeron laughs his slimy head off at our stupidity.” Target remarked.
Daring tossed the star-shaped box once, it landing back in her hoof before she held it up to Target’s face. “Tell me, you ever seen an artifact like this before? I sure haven’t.”
“No, but I’ve been to quite a few tombs and I keep on digging up strange things that I generally don’t know what they might have been used for. I’m not a historian or a world-class archaeologist like you Dares,” Target pointed out, with a small shrug of her shoulders.
“Maybe not, but like I said, even I haven’t seen something like this before,” Daring replied, setting the box on a nearby table along with a stack of old books and scrolls. She groaned, this could take a while. She was hoping to be out of the city by noon, but right now this was more important. In the back of her mind, Daring swore she actually had seen something like this peculiar box somewhere before, she just couldn’t place where that where was exactly. “Here, read.” she stated in a tone that left no room for any sort of argument, hoofing a book off to Target, while Daring opened up another book.
Opening the book, Daring let out a small cough at the sheer dust stirred up. Looks like nobody had seen fit to read this particular volume on Baladi’s history for a while. She then heard Target let out a small squeak and looked at the earth pony.
“Okay, so let me get somethin’ straight here,” Target remarked, looking greener than normal if that were possible. “Okay, so these embalmers, they ripped out your guts and they stuffed them in jars? ”
Daring gave her a flat look. “Wait, you raid tombs for a living and yet you’re seriously telling me you don’t know a damn thing about embalming?”
“Like I said, not a historian,” Target replied. “They seriously did this?” she asked, looking around for the nearest trash can.
Daring nodded. “And they take out your heart as well,” she replied, before smirking not being able to resist a chance to have some fun with her partner. “Oh, and you know how they took out your brains?”
“...Oooh, I don’t think I need to know this.” Target murmured to herself. Sadly, today or this week in fact as she was rapidly finding out was not going to be a good one for her.
“Too bad. You asked,” Daring grinned. “They take a sharp, red hot poker, stick it up your nose, scramble things about a bit, and then rip it all out through your nostrils! For the record, you’re dead when they do this, but…”
Target had fainted with a loud thud long before Daring even got to the ‘already dead’ bit. Daring sighed and shook her head. “Give me frogs, give me locusts, give me any sort of plague. They’d have to be better than this moron…” Daring muttered to herself quietly, quite tempted to plant her face in her book out of embarrassment. Suddenly Daring’s foggy memories about the mystery box as she started to call it, upon remembering the aspects of mummification began to clear themselves and she remembered something.
“Read up on ancient pharaohs and queens. Got a small hunch…” she murmured to herself, rapidly flipping through the pages of another book, tossing the first one aside. Her eyes widened when she came to a very particular passage about an ancient queen from long ago and she muttered: “Oh no… Celestia help me. Please tell me I’m wrong here. Celestia, just tell me I’m wrong.” she whispered to herself, praying skywards. If she drew any attention for her particular manner of prayer -and she was really- she wouldn’t particularly care at the moment. Right now she had far bigger worries.
It was a vain, faint hope as Daring was usually never wrong about anything. She hated being right all the time.
“...Right, figured you wouldn’t listen, not like you ever do with me...” Daring muttered to herself and set about reviving Target shaking the mare’s body fervently. “Come on girl, wake up! Wake up! Need you right about now!”
Target, moaning to herself slowly returned to the realm of consciousness. “...Oh for the love for Celestia, please tell me I didn’t faint about halfway through that little spiel of yours. Know I brought it on myself but-”
“Normally, I’d be making smart-ass remarks right about now, but something I just discovered put me off of it. Target, tell me. Have you ever heard of the Book of the Dead?”
“Yeah, sure I have. Pretty much like an idiot’s guide to the afterlife innit?” she asked. “Something every Baladi native used to get buried with, helped them find their way to whatever awaited them and to the halls of judgment where their heart would be weighed by Osiris and possibly devoured by Ammit.”
“Not that book of the dead, the Book of the Dead,” Daring stated seriously. “It was part of an old curse laid down by Ancient Baladi’s secret police of sorts, the Medjai, as part of a way to keep one very old and one very pissed off mare from returning to walk upon this Earth and bring chaos and discord with her.”
“...Okay, now you’ve lost me,” Target sighed. “Explain.”
“Right, well it goes like this…” Daring began.
It began in the New Kingdom, as the legend went during the time period of the pharaoh Seti the First of the nineteenth dynasty, whose name meant ‘of Set’ aka the Baladi God of chaos and storms. Fitting really, for what unfolded during his time as the pharaoh. Now, the actual time period of his reign was unclear really, as with almost all dates in Ancient Baladi. Varying historians claim different dates, ranging from 1294 BC to 1279 BC or more likely 1290 BC to 1279 BC. Now Seti had fought several wars during his 11 to 14-year reign, he was the conquering sort.
During that time, he’d claimed several mistresses. None of them really loved him and were only in fear or awe of his power and wealth, or perhaps maybe a few did truly care and love him as a stallion. Who was to say?
But the one everyone was most wary of was Cadence, a striking unicorn mare of great beauty hailing from Saddle Arabia. She’s probably the biggest victim of Seti’s reign, in some ways, and her tale is a tragic one to say the least. While she hadn’t been won in a war, she’d been part of a pact that the current ruler of Saddle Arabia had forged with Seti in order to prevent one. Seti had given up some of his finest jewels -And in no small part did he enjoy doing this- to the ruler in question, whose name is hardly important in this tale, and in return, the ruler had to give up his only daughter to Seti’s growing harem.
Needless to say, she was none too pleased about this. What was that old saying? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Yes, that was it.
In public, she kept up a front of being this mare that adored Seti, and catered to his every whim. But in private, that was a different story. Oh Goddess yes, so it was. She had been plotting for ages, ever since she was first shackled to Seti to kill the pharaoh.
“Beautiful, isn’t it…?” Seti asked Cadence, stroking her mane -Cadence shuddering all the while- with a hoof as the red-coated stallion looked up over the rising sun, Ra’s greatness casting a brilliant shine over the city below his palace. It truly was a grand city, with two massive statues of Horus flanking either side of the city gates, stone walls that had taken ages to carve and construct surrounding the city’s buildings and temples on all sides. In the middle of the city, in a small square stood an obelisk that seemingly reached to the heavens above, a gold-adorned capstone at the very top with the light of the sun shining off it brilliantly. Truly, the grand city of Abydos was possibly the pride of Baladi, the massive city gaining new additions to it as the ages passed and the power of the pharaohs grew.
“Not as beautiful as you, my king,” Cadence remarked, having to practically spit the words out past her lips. If Seti took notice of her tone, he must have dismissed it or he was used to it by now. Like I mentioned before, most of his consorts despised him anyhow.
“Come, I believe we are burning daylight as the commoners call it and our kingdom awaits milady Cadence. No sense in having a beautiful mare with you if you don’t get to show her off, right?” Seti asked, and Cadence nodded weakly as the two left Seti’s chambers.
She felt as if she wanted to puke as she felt Seti’s leering eyes gaze upon her with every step, every hour of the waking day even in day court with her chained to his throne by Baladi sorcery. While the chains themselves weren’t visible, she felt a scorching pain go up her back if she even tried to take a step away from Seti, dark red hieroglyphs covering her. Ma’at or Order as she’d heard it was called could be used for many things, and apparently, binding ponies to a madman of a stallion fell under its banner.
Yes, she would have to move quickly, and without hesitation sooner rather than later.
Night fell, and as Cadence swore to herself, her plans were advanced. Seti had called her to his chambers requesting she wear ‘something nice’, and Cadence had no illusions on what he exactly planned to do with her. But all the same, she kept up the illusion and dressed as a fancier version of one of the palace maids, with a veil over her face and clad in beads and fine jewelry with a thin fabric covering her flanks and hind legs. She’d hidden a knife in one of her golden horseshoes, out of sight.
As she entered Seti’s chambers, the pharaoh lay on a bed with sheets as blood-red as his coat. Soon to be even deeper red in color, Cadence thought to herself. Once this was all over, she would free the slaves Seti kept, and cast an illusion over herself and be Seti. Seti was a fool of a stallion, and at times had let his reach over her extend a little too far, and she’d managed to learn enough of the spells of Ma’at to be able to cast a believable illusion with nobody being the wiser.
Drawing some light blue hieroglyphs in the air, channeling the power of Ma’at, Seti darkened the room and pulled Cadence closer to him. She didn’t resist, her veil was lifted and their tongues battled for dominance briefly as Seti began divesting Cadence of her clothing. Well, what little there was of it anyways, as the two fell onto the bed, their motions becoming ever more violent as Seti lustfully took Cadence for his own. Suddenly, before he could react, just as his hips bucked in climax Cadence finally produced a knife and slashed him across the throat, blood oozing out of the wound with Seti dying almost instantly.
Cadence, as she pulled out and away from the dead tyrant, felt a sense of relief, freedom. She felt great joy, something she hadn’t had the luxury of feeling in two long agonizing years or an eternity to her. Drawing the hieroglyphs for illusion in mid-air, Seti then appeared to be merely sleeping, exhausted after his night of passion.
The plan would have been perfect, except for one small thing. Apparently, what Cadence hadn’t counted on was Seti installing an alarm system. Hieroglyphs all over the room burned a bright red, and Cadence screamed out in pain as she felt her whole body began to burn seemingly from the inside. The pain was only brief, but it lasted long enough for warriors clad in the mask of Horus -The Medjai- to break into the room and the pain was scalding enough for Cadence's illusion to drop. Gasps echoed from under the Medjai’s helmets as they saw the blood from Seti’s practically severed neck pool onto the floor and the commander ordered: “Seize her!”
Looking towards the window as the Medjai brandished curved swords made of pure obsidian and covered in gold hieroglyphs, the unicorn mare grimaced as she picked herself up off the chamber floors and ran towards the window. Breaking into a gallop, she covered herself in a bright cornflower blue aura of magic and leaped out the window, stars seemingly serving as stepping stones as she leaped down into the gardens below and landed in a pool with a splash. She heard the thundering of hooves coming from behind her, knowing the Medjai were not far behind. Screams erupted from inside the palace as news of Seti’s demise quickly made its way through the servants.
It was chaos as Cadence ran for the garden exits, brushing past crowds of ponies in her madcap dash for the exit. Now, you might think in a city full of guard loyal to a pharaoh alongside the Medjai themselves there was nowhere to hide from a swift wrath, but Cadence had heard rumors of a city below Abydos. The city of the damned and the dead, known only as Hamunaptra. It was spoke of only in hushed whispers, and many doubted its existence or more likely hoped it was merely idle gossip but Cadence knew better.
One of the palace guards, Steel Armor, who Cadence deeply suspected to be in the Medjai as well had taken a liking to her. He’d often sneaked her food from the kitchens amongst other things had told her of a secret door in the city’s main obelisk. She suspected this hidden door led to Hamunaptra or at least a passage out of the city and into the deserts where she could vanish never to be seen again.
As she galloped through the city streets, arrows whizzing by her head, Cadence rebounded off the walls in a form of ancient parkour and jumped over a market stall and a wall down into a lower level of the city sliding down a thatched roof as she did so.
As she reached the end of the roof, Cadence leaped off of it, and turned in midair to fire off several more Ma’at spells, each appearing as the hieroglyphs for ‘shatter’ and two ancient columns shattered at their bases before coming down and blocking the pursuing Medjai’s paths. Screams erupted as the Medjai eventually managed to find their way around the blockade and into the crowds below with khopeshes brandished.
Cadence did the only thing she could, and that was to keep running.
Eventually, she reached the obelisk, and once more created the hieroglyphic symbols for shatter and smashed through a bricked-up wall, a secret passageway leading to the tunnels below being revealed in its place. Cadence leaped through the small hole and into the passageway below, more arrows just barely missing her by a hair’s length.
Eventually, she did arrive in Hamunaptra. However, it was less of a city and more a tomb. It was comprised of a large central chamber, round in shape with skulls of ponies stacked on shelves all around her.
“No, no… It can’t be…” Cadence whispered to herself. “There’s… There’s no way out!”
“Of course there isn’t,” a deep baritone voice remarked, as the leader of the Medjai squadron, a gray-coated stallion wearing a mask themed after the goddess Sekhmet entered the room along with his squadron. “Hamunaptra, it’s a city of the dead yes. But a city of the dead for those who defiled the upper city’s laws which include committing treason of the highest order. And that includes killing the pharaoh.” he growled out. “Vir u oortredings plaas ek op u die enigste moontlike vloek wat daarby pas. The Hom-”
“No!” one of the Medjai cried out, even as Cadence was bound in chains and thrown up against a statue of Anubis, with scarab beetles beginning to swarm out of little holes in the wall. Her eyes widened in fear as she felt them beginning to nibble at every inch of her body. The Medjai who’d cried out, he drew hieroglyphics in mid-air with his wand, reading ‘flame’ and began incinerating the scarabs. “This… None of this is needed!” the Medjai cried, with quite a few of his compatriots nodding their heads. Cadence’s eyes widened, she knew that voice.
“Steel Armor…” she whispered.
The Medjai leader whirled on Steel and put his khopesh to the soldier’s neck. “And why, lieutenant do you believe this is not needed, and why do you defy me?”
“You’ve seen how Seti treated Cadence, we’ve all seen it! Treated her as a possession, not as a living breathing mare. He just treated her as another one of his conquests!” Steel shouted at his commander. Even as he said this, Cadence shuddered again leaving no doubt in anyone’s minds as to what he meant by conquests.
“Be that as it may, she murdered the pharaoh in cold blood, and the pharaoh's word is law. And the laws for treason of the highest order is the Hom Dai!” the commander barked, and threw up a wall of flame between him and his soldiers. A sarcophagus sprang up all around Cadence, and she began to scream in terror and pain as the scarabs began pouring in once more…
The Present Day
“The Hom Dai…” Daring whispered with a shudder overcoming her. “The worst of the Ancient Baladi curses. You were devoured, alive I might add, by scarab beetles and your body just kept on reconstituting itself only to be devoured over, and over for all eternity. Adding to that, this particular copy of the Book of the Dead kept you from arising, with the copy being hidden away somewhere in Egypt so nobody could ever find it by the leader of the Medjai. This curse…” Daring whispered in a tone that sounded as if she was barely holding herself back from vomiting. “It’s a horrible way to go out, and after it was performed in this instance it was outlawed by the Medjai, who rebelled against their commander and beheaded him on accounts of overtly cruel punishment. They supposedly sent, as the myth continues to state, one of their own to serve in Seti’s place with nobody being the wiser as to his death. Anyone who heard of his demise was silenced. I never believed this myth had any truth to it, even I dismissed it. Until you found that box.”
“What do you mean?” Target asked, having stayed silent throughout that entire story.
“That box, it’s not a box. No, it’s a key. It unlocks the book of the dead, and dispels the curse freeing Cadence from her eternal torment.”
“...And we don’t go looking for this Book of the Dead and free her why?” Target asked, an eyebrow raised. “I mean, Daring, for crying out loud she’s been trapped in a fate worse than Prometheus himself for thousands of years. I think she’s entitled to finally… y’know, die! Are you that heartless?”
“Listen, and you have to trust me on this. I’ve done my reading on this myth, and this is one tomb you do not want to uncover!”
Target’s only response was to pull out her revolver and aim it at Daring as ponies screamed and scattered as the gun’s hammer cocked
“Listen, I know you usually have your reasons for doing things, and you don’t always say why at first, but I think I have a right to know why we can’t just let Cadence finally be at rest here!”
“Because…” Daring whispered in fear. “Because there’s a second part to the legend. It’s said that after her imprisonment, Cadence managed to keep enough of her sanity to concoct a curse of her own on anyone who freed her, one that would unleash all ten biblical plagues all over Egypt as revenge against those who wronged her all those years ago. And when I’m talking biblical, I’m talking real old testament type stuff. Wrath of Faust,” she stated, slamming her hooves on the table. “And I do mean real Wrath of Faust type stuff. Fire and brimstone, seas boiling, cats and dogs living together. That sorta shit! You want to be the one responsible for unleashing that on this country, cause I sure as Hell don’t!” she hissed out, and Target said no more.
“You know, personally I don’t believe in curses,” a very familiar Austrian accented voice remarked as he opened the library doors. “But I do believe in ancient cities, and I do believe in a whole lot of gold… Daring, Daring, you’re getting stupid in your old age. Really, you should have just ran when you still had the chance…” Caballeron remarked as he walked into the room, a revolver of his own drawn.
“Shit!” Daring swore loudly as she and Target tossed off their disguises and ran for the side exit out into the alleyways, Target shooting out the chandelier with her revolver to send sparks flying everywhere as a distraction.
Making a break for Target’s old Bentley, now fully refurbished and fixed up from the chase the day before, Daring floored it tires squealing out on protest as the two took off down the cobblestone streets and into the marketplace smashing up stalls as they went.
They heard the roar of an engine and saw one very Dr. Caballeron in hot pursuit in his Mercedes with a hired native in the back holding a machine gun firing like a madman.
“Here we go again…” Target muttered to herself, as she ducked her head to avoid her brain matter being splattered all over the dashboard.
“Say, that carpet looks nice,” Daring joked, pointing at a colorful piece of rug that fluttered on the roof of their car as she made a sharp turn into a narrow alley. “Let’s see the good doctor follow us in here with that bulky car of his.”
“Oh no no no!” Target squeaked as she realized what Daring was about to pull. “You do realize my car, my car is just as big as his, right? You’re not just nuts, you’re crazy!”
The car screeched and sparks flew as the sides scraped against the walls. “Relax, that'll buff right out. You know, young mare your age, you need to get out and enjoy yourself more!” Daring laughed.
“This car was coachbuilt, coachbuilt!” Target protested loudly. “You know what that means right?”
With a final cry of protest, the car burst out onto the streets and Daring jerked the wheel to narrowly avoid a stall.
Then, angry shouts of Germane came from somewhere behind them, and both mares heads’ whipped around to see Dr. Caballeron and his car smashing through another selection of market stalls, fruits splatting his vehicle’s front window.
“Erschieße sie, erschieße sie beide, du Idiot!” Caballeron barked out to his hired gun. “Beeil dich, schnell jetzt!”
“Huh, looks like Caballeron sprang for the supercharged engine,” Daring commented lightly, turning back to face the road. “So Target, can you check the map to see if you can find a good place to lose him? I’d do it myself, but I’ve gotta keep my eyes on the road. Safety first!” she chirped merrily.
“We’re driving through a marketplace in a massive Bentley with a guy shooting at us with a machine gun, and you’re worried about safety?” Target exclaimed. “...Those shells you took in the Great War must have done something to your bloody head…’ she muttered to herself.
“Hey, have I hit any pedestrians or have any been shot?” Daring retorted, narrowly avoiding an elderly mare walking down the street. “This has been totally safe.”
“You and I have, must have different definitions of that word then.” Target deadpanned as more bullets whizzed by their head, a certain doctor still screaming angrily at his gunner.
“Was bist du, blind? Kannst du nicht eine Stute schlagen?” Caballeron shouted as the two vehicles passed a sign, that in Arabic read: ‘مطار’ or simply airport. “Step on it, pull up alongside them, maybe then you can actually hit something!”
Sure enough, Caballeron’s car was then right up alongside their own.
“Oh, hey Doc,” Daring greeted, paying no mind to the machine gun being leveled at her head. “Do you have any grey poupon?” she joked. “No? Then gotta go.”
Target smirked as she looked at the gunner, and gestured to somewhere behind her all the while thinking: “You gotta be kidding me, why am I doing this? Nobody’s stupid enough to fall for that old trick!”
Evidently, someone was, as sure enough, the gunner did look behind him only to receive a kick to the face by Target. “Huh, what do you know? Guess you can always count on the stupidity of the hired help…”
Daring grinned, pulling ahead of the Mercedes and turning down the road towards the airport. Smashing right through the gates, she pointed at an already chartered cargo plane whose pilots were readying the engines, the propellers beginning to spin up.
Leaping out of the car, Daring pulled out her revolver while Target went for her favored Lee Enfield as a massive truck smashed in through another gate, with Germane soldiers pouring out of it, Caballeron and his car not far behind.
That’s the problem with Germane roaches,” Daring commented, aiming her revolver at the front tire of the Mercedes and firing. “Smash one and dozens more come squirming out of the woodworks. Like a Hydra in some ways. Cut off one head…” she trailed off.
“Technically Caballeron’s Austrian.” Target corrected as she ducked behind crates to give covering fire. One, two, three. That’s exactly how many shots she took, and how many soldiers fell to her rifle, Target showing just why she was a famed sniper back in the English Army in the Great War and exactly why she was named as she was.
“Are we really gonna split hairs regarding nationalities right now?!” Daring shouted, rushing towards the plane. More shots rang out as she ducked her head, the side of the plane being riddled with bullets. “Here, toss me the box!”
Target nodded, and the small object went flying from one hoof to another, and as soon as it landed in Daring’s hoof Target resumed her shots felling two more soldiers.
“Can you not aim right, you dummkopfs?” Caballeron roared in anger, as he ducked his head to avoid a shot from Target’s firearm.
“Really should be asking yourself the same question Dr. C, just sayin’,” Daring smirked, as she took cover behind the cargo plane’s entryway door, and fired off a few shots of her own. A sense of satisfaction filled her, watching a couple of the krauts fall to the ground. The hail of bullets lessened, but not enough for either of the mare’s liking.
The pilot of the plane started shouting at her in Arabic, saying they needed to go now. He yelped as he poked his head out of the cockpit window to gesture to Target to climb aboard, only for a bullet to graze the side of his head. “...By Allah.” he muttered to himself as he very wisely decided to keep his head where it belonged.
“Target, come on!” Daring shouted, holstering her weapon and gesturing with a hoof. “We’ll worry about Caballeron later! We need to go, now!” she shouted over the roar of the plane’s engine, as it began taxing down the runway. “Can’t keep these stairs down for much longer!”
“R-Right…” Target murmured, before her eyes widened as she noticed what exactly she was taking cover behind. While she didn’t understand a word of Arabic, or know the language so it was impossible for her to tell what exactly ‘تحذير ، قابلة للاشتعال!’ meant she did know what a bright red barrel with a flame on it signified. “Oh fu…” she trailed off.
“Hasta la vista, Target Quartermane…” Caballeron smirked as he lined up his shot and fired.
A fireball enveloped the runway just as Daring’s eyes widened and she pulled up the staircase just in time as the remains of a scorched Stetson flew into the plane.
“Target…” Daring whispered, as she tipped the brim of her hat to hide her tears before letting out a growl of: “Caballeron…” before that growl turned into a roar, audible over even the plane’s engines. “Caballeron, you’ll pay for this, do you hear me you bastard? You’ll pay!”
Caballeron only chuckled and shook his head. “So sad you had to leave us so shortly Target, we barely got to know one another. Could have made excellent partners…” he sighed as he watched Daring’s plane fly off towards Cairo before gesturing to his remaining men. “Follow her. I want that box.”
