A single drop of blood contains more living organisms than Manehattan does ponies. One drop of blood is enough to taint litres of clean water, enough to clone a whole animal, enough to blast a consciousness into oblivion. One particular drop of blood fell to the dust-covered concrete ground in an apartment. It had fallen from the tip of a particularly sharp blade that seemed to be made from an otherworldly glass-like substance. The blade seemed to sap the life from the room, and anypony who walked in would be able to immediately identify it as evil. Ancient runes played across the blade, now burning with an eldritch fire, now glowing with soul-rending ice. It exuded death. It was being held to the neck of an old stallion, at least 80 years old, who had gulped, pushing his skin against the burning cold edge of the blade. The drop of blood hit the floor; the room was mirrored in his wide eyes. He was concussed, and had been forcefully been made to come to his senses with magic - not a plea sent process by any means. The room was looking a little worse for the wear - the carpet lay shredded around by the base of the walls, ripped from the concrete floor by the force of the blast that had erupted in the centre of the apartment. A fine layer of grey dust had settled on everything, the powdered remains of about 3 cubic metres of concrete. A single foreleg, torn from its body at the knee, was all that remained of the stallions wife. Before the aged stallion stood a younger one, flanked by a mare. A much larger brute was holding him in place.
"Alright then, Mr. Tomes - or may I call you Dusty? Yes, I believe I will." The stallion facing him spoke. He had a lemon-yellow coat, with a Cutie-mark of a dictionary. His mane was black and glossy, and a thick handlebar moustache dominated his face. He wore a top hat, so he could be either an earth-pony or a unicorn. "My name is Inky Scribbler. I believe, Dusty, that we need to talk. About the good old days - back when you were a strapping young stallion, and Flowing Scroll here," he gestured at the severed limb lying on the ground "was a little more... shapely." Anger flashed in the eyes of Dusty Tomes. "Let's get straight to business - where are the journals?"
"Buck off!"
"No need to be rude, Dusty. All I want is a simple answer."
"You just killed my wife. You, your friends, and your answer can all go and buck yourselves."
"Now now Dusty. I know that you're no stranger to danger, considering who you followed around for half your life, but take it from me - cooperation is in your best interest. We both know there is one way for this to end; but how we get to that point is your decision. I just don't want to have to make Velvet Thorn here do any more work than she has to. She and I have a long journey ahead of us you know, and I'm trying to save her energy."
Dusty Tomes flicked a glance at the mare's Cutie-mark. A ritualistic circle drawn in red, standing out against her deep purple coat and silver mane. Magical circles were not uncommon for focusing magic, particularly larger spells, but this was not a normal circle. He had seen circles like that before, in the slums of Marexico City. He did not want to relive any of the sights, sounds or emotions related to that particular type of circle. Dusty knew he was going to die - everypony in the room did - but he also knew they still needed him, for a little while at least. Until he gave them the information they needed, or told them where it was. He made up his mind. He wasn't scared of death; a side effect of the adventures of his youth, he supposed. By now most ponies he had ever considered friends were dead, including his wife. He was going to go soon enough anyway - why not go on his own terms? It would save him plenty of pain, and delay this Inky Scribbler for a few days. That must be enough time for somepony to notice, right? To do something? Maybe. Gritting his teeth, and thinking of his wife, Dusty Tomes spoke his last words - "Buck you!" - as he thrust himself forward onto the blade held to his neck. The solitary drop of blood that had landed on the floor earlier was swiftly joined by much, much more.
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Dear Twilight Sparkle,
I must ask you and your friends to come to Canterlot immediately; there is a matter of great urgency that we must discuss. Make sure you leave a note cancelling any prior engagements for an indefinite amount of time. We have a great deal of things to discuss, and we must be quick if we are to succeed. Tell no-one why you are leaving; secrecy is of the utmost importance. I apologise for the lack of details, but all will become clear soon enough.
Princess Celestia
"Well," said Twilight Sparkle to no pony in particular "this can't be good."
The room they were sitting in was large and circular. The centre of the room was slightly lowered, the fine padded seating level with the floor on the outside. A small table sat at the centre of this lowered area, and the four soft benches had spaces between them, allowing for stairs. Above them was a glass skylight, four metres in diameter, through which the stormy night could be seen. Two entrances to the room were across from them, offset from the northernmost point of the chamber by approximately ten degrees. Behind them was the entrance through which they had come, directly to the south. Twilight Sparkle gulped. Of all her friends she was the only one who had been here before, but never under these circumstances. She tried not to think of the reason for their summons. Worrying would only give her a stomach ache. Suddenly, the silence of the room was broken, as two sets of whooves echoed on polished marble steps. The princesses were descending from their royal quarters. Celestia seated herself upon the padded bench across from and next to Twilight, Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie, whilst Luna sat upon the other.
Celestia was the first to speak "I am sure you are all curious as to why we have requested your presence. We will explain everything in due time. I hope you all rested on the train journey here, for we have much to discuss and little time to waste." She looked at the faces of the elements of harmony "We must, I suppose, start at the beginning. Tell us, what do you know of Daring Doo?" Twilight opened her mouth to respond, but Rainbow Dash spoke first.
"Well, she's the coolest, awesomest and dangerous adventuress in any book ever!"
Celestia gave a light little laugh at this response. "Right on all counts but one, Rainbow Dash. Daring Doo was not a fictional character." A stunned silence filled the room.
"I'm sorry, but what?" asked Twilight, somewhat confused by Celestia's statement "Daring Doo is a character from a book series, right?"
"Our sister speaketh the truth, Twilight Sparkle." This was Luna "Daring Doo was a real Pegasus. The books authors renamed her, naturally, as they did all her companions, but the basic fact remains the same. Daring Doo was a real Pegasus. What is more, the books are basically reworkings of her journals."
"But why would you publish these books as fiction?" asked Rarity, looking confused "Wouldn't any mare want to bask in the fame of having such grand adventures?"
"The sorts of relics and artifacts involved in the adventures of Daring Doo are of a... sensitive nature," explained Celestia, "and if ponies found out they existed, we could end up with a very delicate situation on our hands. Besides, she isn't around any more to bask in any sort of fame. Her last adventure was 53 years ago, which is also when she was last seen by anypony. Her greatest quest proved to be the end of her."
"She didn't die at the end of the last book though." said Twilight.
"The last book does not follow her last journey. Her final journal was even more sensitive than the rest of them. She was persuing an artifact that has had many names through the ages - it may even be older than the world itself. It would give an individual power beyond belief. We believe it to be the source of all black magic. Daring Doo saw this artifact in a dream. She described at the start of her final journal, saying it was "A great black crystal, which seemed to draw the gaze. There were runes and symbols inscribed in it's surface, but they sickened me if I looked at them. Looking at the stone, I seemed to see images reflected in it's surface. Obscene rituals, burning worlds, creatures that could not exist, and behind it all, blood. Blood beyond measure, somehow both living and void of life. I heard a name - the stone of souls - and awoke, retching." Obviously this stone is evil. References to it can be found in nearly every ancient culture, and Doo took it upon herself to find and destroy it. The resulting journey resulted in the deaths of her and all but two of her friends and companions. These two gave us her last journal, and then went into hiding. They were murdered yesterday. Their names were Flowing Scroll and Dusty Tomes." Celestia paused.
"What, like my great-uncle Dusty?" asked Twilight "We thought he'd died years ago."
"One and the same. He was killed yesterday. It wasn't pretty. His apartment was ransacked, as if the ponies responsible were looking for something. Unfortunately, they found it. Whilst the journal of Daring Doo is kept here in our personal library, we imagine that you great-uncle kept his own log of the adventure, which the perpetrators appear to have found. As you can imagine, this is not good. We cannot afford some cultists to acquire the stone of souls."
"I'm sorry, and I'm not trying to interrupt, but did you say cultists? They sound scary..." to the surprise of all, this was Fluttershy.
"I'm afraid so. As I said, it wasn't pretty. The residual magical aura is black as black can be. It doesn't appear that anypony will want to live in that apartment for a long time. Of course, the ritualistic circles and runes confirm it. Two of the local detectives are currently in the psychiatric ward, and the apartment has been sealed until some specialists can come in. But we need to stop the ponies responsible. We need the six of you, alongside a party which we will arrange, to follow in the footsteps of Daring Doo, find the cultists, and, if possible, destroy the stone."
"Do we know who was responsible?" This was Rainbow Dash "Because I'm going to buck their flanks so hard that... oh, er, sorry your highnesses."
"No need to apologise Rainbow Dash." Luna spoke up "We do, in fact, know who was responsible. His name is Inky Scribbler. An aristocrat, and the linguistics specialist at the Marevard University. We can only imagine that years of reading about long lost artifacts of ancient civilisations caused him to discover the existence of the stone. He has never been described as a particularly savoury character, and the fact that nopony payed him nor his work any attention may well have caused him to form resentment in his heart. We cannot be sure, but he must be stopped. Now my sister and I must organise supplies and transportation to your first destination, as well as the other members of this expidition. For now you should rest."
"Pardon ma' askin' Princess," Applejack asked the question that had been bothering her for a while "but can't we jus' go ta the last place Doo went? We'd save ourselves a mighty whack o' time, and beat this Inky fella there."
"A good question. Doo was never specific as to where she went, as she marked the locations on her map, which we unfortunately lack. Moreover, the journal talks of some sort of magical cipher which is learnt from various locations, and is the only way to access the so called "Temple of Origin", where the stone is said to be found."
"So we have to go on an adventure just like Daring Doo!?" shouted Rainbow Dash, exitment scrawled across her features.
"Yes," replied Celestia "but first you must rest. The journey will be long and hard, and this may well be the last proper night's sleep you get for several weeks at the least."
Rarity fainted at the prospect.
