Father of Monsters

by BaeroRemedy

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Horror, Death, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Grogar
Length: 22322

Sometimes, it's better to leave things unexplored.

The Alogos Archipelago is rich in culture and history, dating back just as far as Equestria itself. Stories of heroes, gods, and monsters litter the little islands and saturate the very lives of the ponies who live and thrive there.

Some legends are better left alone, and some mysteries are better left undiscovered.

[Contains a few scenes of light gore in later chapters.]

Published 2019-05-07 23:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-05-14 22:38:06 UTC

Kalpas

The sloped streets of Kalpas were paved in uneven stones and flanked by buildings decorated in blue and white. The subtropical sun was low on the horizon, painting the sky in beautiful shades of orange and pink. The locals delighted in the cool evening weather, gallivanting through the streets and chattering in the local language.

If one was to look out from any point, between the houses and shops, past the ponies who were enjoying the late summer afternoon, you would see a sparkling crystal blue ocean. Islands dotted the distance, each one just as alive and vibrant as Kalpas.

The whole region was paradise to most, if not all, who were just passing through.

For the Equestrian stallion who was wandering the quiet moonlit streets, it was just another view. He was used to such magnificent vistas and breathtaking views, they had honestly become less interesting over the years. That didn’t mean that he was unable to appreciate them, it just meant he was a lot more jaded than most. After all he used to be an explorer, he had seen these kinds of vistas more times than he could count.

The Equestrian stopped, catching sight of two ponies sitting on a ledge overlooking the sea and caught in an intimate moment. A pegasus stallion had his wing draped over a young mare, their hooves intertwined as they leaned against one another and just enjoyed the closeness of one another.

The sight alone made the pony frown and look away. He envied them in a way, they both had somepony that they cared for and cared for them in turn. Just another luxury he left behind long ago along with his home back in Canterlot. He wished he could have even half of that kind of connection to another pony, even just sharing a conversation would be good.

His frown only deepened as he felt the familiar tug at his front right leg and the wing on the same side. He had lost them both over a decade ago, now replaced with metal facsimiles that would never quite feel the same as flesh and blood. In his mind, it only served to distance himself further and further from those able bodied individuals around him.

Time and travel had taken their toll on his body more than just missing limbs. His once slate gray coat had become white around his hooves and muzzle, his proud jet black mane was now marred by white streaks all over. For now, that was covered with the rough brown hooded poncho he wore through most of his travels. It wasn’t comfortable or convenient to do what he did anymore, but he did it nonetheless.

Once upon a time he had been part of an exploration force for Equestria. It had been a lifetime of globetrotting and adventure; cities besieged in the desert, jungles full of treasure, unknown lands to explore, and close friends lost to the dangers of the job. He was retired now. He had tried to go back to work a few years ago, but found himself more wandering than exploring, so he just retired and kept wandering.

With his heart and mind heavy, he figured he was done travelling for the day. If he wanted he could easily find a boat down at the docks to take him to one of the neighboring islands before nightfall, but for now he didn’t want to at all. A meal of some kind and a bed would do for the rest of the evening.

After some time working his way through the village, he found a two story building with candles still burning in all of the windows. Warm chatter and laughter emanated from within, along with the smell of fresh cooked food and beer. It would be home for the night.

He made his way inside and threw the hood off of his head. Two hearths burned bright and warm on opposite sides of the room, a warm and delicious smelling cauldron brewing over each. There were a few ponies lingering around the open area here on the first floor, most of them speaking the local language that he only knew simple words and phrases of. Quickly, however, he zeroed in on a fellow Equestrian sitting in a chair in front of one of the fireplaces.

It was a mare tending to the cauldron hanging over the fire in the hearth. It didn’t seem like she was speaking to any of the locals around her, but rather to herself. Weirdly enough, she looked like a local even if she didn’t speak like one; a shiny jet black mane and a rich chestnut coat put her lineage in the area. However, the various pages sticking from her saddlebags let him know that she was Equestrian, or at least spoke it.

“I can’t tell if you are a long way from home, or right where you belong.” He spoke as jovially as he could as he wandered behind the mare. With great care for his knees, he slowly sat in a stiff wooden chair to the side of her. He then held out his good hoof to the fire and let out a contented sigh.

He received nothing in response from the mare except an icy stare from her bright blue eyes. She turned her gaze back towards the cauldron and leaned in to stir the cauldron a little more. With that little move, he got a clear view that she was indeed an earth pony. No horn poked out from her neatly brushed mane, and no wings were folded against her dark brown coat.

“Do you speak Equestrian?” he offered, taking off his saddlebags and cloak and setting them beside his chair. He immediately felt her eyes go to his metal appendages before going back to the pot once again. “I saw some of the papers sticking out of your bags, you at least read it.”

“Yes, I do speak Equestrian.” Her voice was level and calm, giving no hint as to her emotions, but letting Intrepid know that she did not want any conversation. He did gleam something from the terse statement though, an accent. Canterlot, if he remembered after such a long time away from home.

“Ah, good.” He nodded and craned his neck forward to get a better look in the pot over the fire. It didn’t look to be anything too exotic, just a simple vegetable stew. “I apologise for intruding, but it is not every day I get to speak with somepony from home.”

“Mhm,” the mare responded, her eyes kept focused on the boiling broth before her. All Intrepid could do was hold back a sigh in frustration as he was shut out. He knew a pony who didn’t want to be bothered when he saw one, and it was a giant tease for him to find a pony with whom he could finally converse properly after months alone, and she didn’t want to talk. That was just his luck.

“I’m going to leave my things here while I get a room, can you watch them for me?” He stood and looked to the mare for confirmation, only receiving a very curt nod in response.

With that settled, he ventured over to a little desk set up at the far end of the busy room, past the bar that was serving some sort of regional drink to travellers and locals alike, and to a stallion whose colors nearly matched the Equestrian mare by the hearth. He was just a shade lighter, and his eyes were green rather than blue. The bushy black mustache also set him apart, along with the friendly smile he flashed to his newest patron.

“One room, please. For the night.” Intrepid spoke slowly and as clearly as he could, not knowing the amount of Equestrian that the stallion behind the desk spoke. He even punctuated his words by utilizing the feathers on his good wing, holding up a single primary on the end and then pointing it towards the upper floor where the rooms were.

The stallion said something in the local tongue, something that Intrepid could not translate even if he tried. The stallion then pointed to a sign hanging above his head and held out his hoof, waiting.

While Intrepid was an explorer, and he knew about three different languages other than Equestrian, he didn’t know a word of Alogolan, not even a greeting. The area wasn’t one he frequented often, not like the Gryphus Mountains, Saddle Arabia, or the Zebrican Desert. This Alogos Archipelago was not of interest to Equestrian or its Crowns, so he was rarely ever a guest.

The sign, while still in the local language, could still be read thanks to the rather universal numbering system used throughout the various lands. Fifty bits for a room is what it said. Fifty bits! Intrepid narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brows, ready to argue and haggle the price down to something manageable, when the fact that he couldn’t hit him once again. So with a sigh, and a victorious grin from the stallion behind the counter, Intrepid forked over the bits and grumbled as he walked away.

“Can’t believe the rates here…” he complained as he sat back down by the mare. “They charge you a leg and a wing to stay here for one night, can you believe it?” He was hoping that a mutual complaint would spur her into conversation, but instead she only looked at his metal appendages. “Hmm… poor choice of words, I guess…” He ended with a small chuckle.

“Why are you here?” It was more of an accusatory question than curious, and that caught Intrepid off guard. Even the meanest ponies could at least let their curiosity get the better of them, but apparently not this mare.

“W-well…” He stammered out, doing his best to get the idea of an interrogation out of his head. This was a friendly conversation, without the friendliness it seemed. “…I travel around quite a bit, I’m an explorer by trade. I was on my way to Thestralia, and as much as I love being on boats, I was not going to be on one for months on end.” It helped that Alogos was a halfway point between Casaflanca and the home of the bat ponies.

“Why?” The question was asked again, the same tone and inflection. It made Intrepid want to roll his eyes and sigh, but he bit it back and swallowed. He was not going to get frustrated, after all it was conversation.

“Well, if you truly want to know, to meet a friend.” Intrepid looked down at his hooves, his metal one tapping against the stool rhythmically. He hadn’t seen her in what, maybe eight years? Now she was headed to Thestralia with one of her friends, and she had sent a letter inviting him. How could he say no to reuniting with an old acquaintance, especially when he didn’t have to go back to Equestria to do so.

“Hmm…” the mare responded as she looked into the pot, and then nodded in satisfaction. She tapped the wooden spoon she had been using to stir with against the side of the pot and took some of the brew up in it, then poured it into a bowl waiting on the ground. “Would you like some?”

“Oh, yes please.” He nodded enthusiastically and grabbed a bowl from a little peg hanging right above the fireplace and held it out. Carefully, the mare spooned his bowl until it was full and nodded. “Thank you very much, by the way. I will always appreciate a warm meal.”

“Mhm.” She pulled two wooden spoons from above the fireplace and held one out for Intrepid, which he took happily. “What is your name?” The question wasn’t as hostile as the previous ones were, almost as if she was warming up a bit. Progress that he would take!

“Intrepid.” He took the spoon in his wing and scooped up some of the broth in his bowl, blowing on it just a little before finally tasting it. It was a bit bland, but filling nonetheless. It was a meal, and he wasn’t going to squander whatever goodwill he had attained with this mare by complaining. “Yours?” he asked after swallowing.

“Strata,” the mare replied as she began on her own bowl, taking care to blow on the little spoonfuls before putting them in her mouth. “What do you do, Intrepid?” It was a simple question, one that he had been asked an incalculable amount of times before, but here it meant something. It was now filled with genuine curiosity instead of malice, and that was a good sign.

“Explore, mostly.” He continued to eat between sentences, doing his best to not be rude. “I used to work for Princess Celestia for Her Majesty’s Exploration Force, but I am mostly retired now. I go where I want nowadays, report when I feel like it.” It sounded a bit irresponsible when he said it aloud, but he was practically retired now, so he couldn’t care what it sounded like to others. He had earned this.

“Interesting.” Her eyes focused on the fire, studying it and looking for something within the flames. There was a silence as they both ate, for a solid minute at least before she spoke again. “Have you explored Alogos much?”

“A long time ago I spent a few months wandering the islands.” It had been nearly twenty years ago at this point, updating maps and reporting on the political climate. It was nothing too thorough or in-depth, but it was better than nothing. “Other than that, I know what others have left behind, which is more than enough.”

Again, there was a silence as the two enjoyed their small meal. He was not going to push the conversation, as he felt it would go nowhere. If she wanted to talk, she would start it up herself. He knew there was no point in trying to force small talk with somepony who was not so interested in it.

“I am an archaeologist,” Strata stated bluntly as she placed her now empty bowl on the floor beside her stool. “Most of my work is on the ancient Alogos civilizations and learning about their culture.” Well that made the name make a little more sense, a pony who spent their life digging in the dirt was of course named Strata.

“Interesting,” Intrepid offered as he matched her action and put his bowl down beside his seat. “Are you…” He couldn’t think of the right word for what an archaeologist did. Was it called ‘a dig’? That didn’t seem right. “…on an expedition?” he ventured, hoping that was the right verbiage.

“Indeed, I am.” Her voice seemed to lighten up just a bit as she began to speak about her work. “I found something rather interesting during my last dig and I’m following up.” Those icy blue eyes seemed to warm a little, her posture became a little less rigid and more open and relaxed. The marks of a mare with passion, he liked that.

“Oh?” he asked, now knowing how to get Strata to talk. Ponies like this, the kind that lived for their work, were an easy egg to crack once you knew the right spot to hit. “Might I ask what you found?” These types loved talking about their work, especially if it was something that they thought of as theirs. So if this was Strata’s discovery, she would be singing like a canary soon.

“What I find every time, ruins,” Strata stated simply, with just a hint of sarcasm behind the words. Intrepid cracked a smile and leaned in, interested if she would add more. “There were some markings that indicated another lost ruin, something nopony has even heard of before.” There it was, her discovery. “I am going to find it.” That was not just a statement, that was a promise. He could tell.

“Can you tell me what it is you found?” He wasn’t going to pry if she said no, but he had a good feeling she wouldn’t. Not that she was on a roll about her passion.

“I can, I suppose.” Strata’s hesitation in those words were as shallow as a stream, and they both knew it. It was for show more than anything, to uphold her closed off appearance. Slowly she retrieved two things from her saddlebags; a pair of spectacles and an old beat up journal. She flipped through it and muttered before she found the page she was looking for. “Beneath the Celestial Shrine in the middle of Kreváti Alogo, there was a secret antechamber that was discovered after a sinkhole opened up near it.” As Intrepid quietly downed the delicious stew that had been prepared, he craned his neck to see an ancient language transcribed in the journal and hasty translations. “In the main chamber, we discovered a shrine to something named ‘Typhon’. The language around the room said something about where its tomb is.”

As she leaned forward and back to get to the stuff in her saddlebags, he was able to catch a glimpse of her cutie mark finally. It was a pickaxe and shovel, their handles crossed and a few layers of dirt behind them. It was honestly something he should have expected given her name and profession.

“So you’re trying to find the tomb of a god?” He didn’t know of any mortal being that ever had a secret shrine to it. “That seems more like a legend than fact.” What he got in response was a glare, which he met with the most neutral look he could manage. He had stared down much more intimidating things in his life.

“Of course not, I’m trying to find ruins. There most likely is a tomb, but it is probably for show. I have never heard of this Typhon creature, but we are still learning things about the ancient civilizations that lived in this area. This tomb might be the main temple for Typhon and we could learn so much from it.” Intrepid noted the spark in her eyes, the yearning for knowledge and understanding. It was intoxicating, and so different from the closed off and distant mare he had met not even an hour ago.

“Where is it?” The isle and city of Kreváti Alogo was a three day boat ride from Kalpas in good weather, so Strata being here was purposeful it seemed like. “On the island or is this just a pitstop for you?” He put down his now empty bowl next to his seat and stretched his back and one good wing.

“I’m not sure.” The coldness and indifference in her voice and stature had shifted the more he had gotten the mare to talk about her work. It felt good to have this kind of discussion with somepony while they were sitting in front of him. Letters were no substitute for actual equine contact. “I’ve been to three separate islands looking and it just feels like I’m walking around blind. I am literally going off of drawings, not descriptions. Do you know how much islands change over thousands of years? A lot.”

“Did you copy the pictures?” Strata nodded and flipped to another page in her journal. “May I see them? I don’t know the culture very well, but I do know the geography. Maybe I can help.” Strata looked down at her journal, then back at Intrepid. She sighed, closed her eyes, and held the weathered and worn book out to him.

The page in question had a surprisingly detailed drawing on it, one that Intrepid did not think an earth pony was capable of. Intrepid remembered always seeing those vases from antiquity in his history books as a kid, and if he didn’t know better he could’ve sworn the recreation on the page before him was professionally done.

It showed two equine figures standing atop a hill and pointing at a temple in the valley below. Beneath the temple was what looked to be some sort of hulking creature with burning red eyes and spiraled horns in a hole in the ground. That was the basics of the image, but there were a few more things. He could see a peak rising from the horizon behind the two ponies on the hill, and a river flowed on one side of the temple.

He sat the journal in front of himself and turned to his own saddlebag. Inside of the tattered thing was a mess if he was honest, and it was totally his fault. Letters, maps, assorted small supplies were tightly packed to the point of nearly bursting. To most it might’ve been chaos, but he had somewhat of a system: the things he used the most or recently, were towards the front. It wasn’t perfect, but it was perfect for the moment. He had been using his map of the area extensively, so lucky him.

He pulled out his map of the Álogos archipelago and unfolded it. The region was, to use a scientific measurement, not small. There were roughly one-hundred and thirty islands that made up Álogos, and only about seventy of them had names. At least his search was narrowed a bit, the island had to have a valley, a river running through said valley, and a mountain either on island itself or one very close.

“From the language used and other illustrations in the temple-” Strata was by his side now, looking over the map with him. “-it was not a very public thing to worship or praise. I do not think that the tomb would be near any city or trade routes.”

“I agree.” Intrepid added, biting his lip as he looked over the map. “But we have to take into account many things, like what major cities were back when the temple was constructed, and what those trade routes looked like. Also the river in the drawing might have either dried up or moved over time.” Intrepid had used out of date maps before and knew the pain of moving cities and natural landmarks, he just wanted to cover those bases right away.

Strata started flipping through her journal furiously, her eyes were racing across each page as it went and she began muttering under her breath. This was a mare possessed, and that was something that Intrepid could appreciate. He liked seeing this kind of intense passion in ponies, it always reminded him how life should be lived.

“Can I mark some things down?” she mumbled as she produced a quill and some ink from her bag. Intrepid nodded and gestured towards the map. He had drawn on his own plenty of times when he needed to denote and changes in borders or city size, so this would not be a bother at all.

The first thing she did was put a mark on Kreváti Alogo, something he fully expected. It was the oldest and most noteworthy city, and the seat of power. That was a no brainer. She then drew a circle around an island that could roughly be called the center of the area.

“Vathý Ble, it was a site of religious pilgrimage during the golden age for ponies who worshipped the sea.” She drew several lines from Kreváti Alogo to Vathý Ble that snaked around several different islands in the area, presumably trade routes. She went all over the map, denoting several notable cities of antiquity, their names and their significance to the culture and trade routes. Nothing of interest happened until she got to the last island far in the east.

“I don’t know how accurate my translation is, but this mountain is called Ypsilí Orasi, I think. It was a place where the Gods were said to watch the world.” She only drew one line from Kreváti Alogo to the mountain. “There was an annual migration for a festival in honor of the gods who moved the sun and moon, but no one ever lived there.”

“What about this island in front of it?” He tapped a little speck of an island just south of the mountain. It was barely visible on the map, but it was there. It didn’t look big enough for a valley, or a river for that matter, but he was going to ask regardless.

“Hold on…” Strata once again flipped through her journal, almost to the front of it at this point. “...it used to be bigger, it looks like. Something about a storm tearing it apart and it looks like rising sea levels have just shrunk it over time.”

“You think that might be it? It would make sense that the mountain in the picture was this one. The gods looking over the tomb of one of their own? It seems ceremonious.” The problem would be if the site was even intact now. Storms and time had a strong effect on stone.

“It’s the best guess.” Strata sighed and nodded. “Thank you for your help, that’s definitely my next stop.” The mare let loose the first smile that Intrepid had seen from her so far and shook her head in disbelief. “Really, thank you.”

“It’s no problem, really.” He folded up the map and held it out to Strata. “You’re going to need this more than me, I think. I’d hate for you to lose all of your work just so it can stay in my bag for who knows how long.”

“...are you sure…?” Strata cautiously took the map and looked at it. “Don’t you need it?”

“I am an explorer, Strata. If I’m somewhere that already has very detailed maps made of it, I’m not doing my job very well.” Okay, he was bluffing. He did need the map, but he was trying to be nice. A few years ago, this gesture from him and even being this far from Equestria would be unthinkable, so he was still exploring everything outside of his comfort zone.

“Well… thank you, again.” She gave a small flash of a smile and put it in her saddlebags. “Thank you for all of your help, Intrepid. I think I need to get some rest now, though. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Good night and good travels, Strata.”

After he had collected his things, he stood and made his way up the stairs and towards the room he had paid for earlier. It wasn’t home, but for more than a few reasons that was a good thing. It would suffice for the night.

Author's Note

A story featuring one of my favorite characters from A Scratch On Shining Armor! No, you don't need to read that story in order to read this one, they're just barely related.

I hope you all enjoy it, though!

The Sea

Intrepid woke up with a sigh. Sleep was not something he enjoyed or looked forward to at all. Too often he had unpleasant dreams and memories haunt his sleeping mind, and too often he woke up long before he meant to because of them.

He sat up and looked towards the window. The sky was painted with the colors of the sunrise, rich and beautiful orange, pink and shades of light red. He would have to go outside to properly bask in its glory.

He looked at the metal prosthetics that were laying on the wooden floor beside his bed. The leg and the wing, detached from his body, still made feelings of fear and anxiety rise in his heart. He could remember losing them to that Tatzlwurm still to this day in excruciating detail. Brutal memories for a brutal life since then.

The old pegasus affixed his leg and his wing carefully and quickly, testing them out by rotating and stretching them out. Once satisfied, he went over to the bucket of fresh water the staff had brought for him and washed his body and mane.

Intrepid picked up his stuffed saddlebags and his poncho and put them on, and with that he was ready to face the day. Outside, the view was even more magnificent than it was from his window. If he looked out to the sea, he could see the sun rising slowly above the distant horizon. The colors of the dawn still danced above Kalpas, making a beautifully vibrant painting in the sky. Seeing the dawn made him think of home, of Equestria and the monarch there who rose it each and every day.

It was a small moment of solace for the stallion so far from home.

“Hey Intrepid.” He was drawn out of his moment by a familiar voice from last night. Waiting just by the door of the Inn was Strata, looking much more rested than himself. “Did you sleep well, old stallion?”

“No, but I’m used to it,” he replied dryly, not wanting to get into it right at this moment. “I thought you would be on a boat to your island by now.” He wouldn’t object to a little more conversation with the young scholar, she seemed like pleasant enough company, but he was curious.

“Would you think less of me if I said I’m a little afraid of this island?” Intrepid raised an eyebrow. He caught exactly what she wanted from him. Her posture and demeanor didn’t indicate fear, but instead that cold disinterest that seemed to be her default reaction except when she was talking about her passion.

“Of course not.” Intrepid reached into his saddlebag and produced a little rolled up tube of paper. Something he’d picked up in Saddle Arabia that had quickly became a bad habit for him. Dried up and crushed leaves of some plant rolled up in paper. He struck a match against the stone wall of the inn and lit the end of his little tube, inhaling deeply. “I go to places that terrify me all of the time. Trust me, I get it.” He breathed little clouds of smoke out of his nostrils. “So you want a travelling companion.”

“If you’re not needed anywhere, I would appreciate one.” She took a step back once she caught a whiff of the smell, like most ponies did. “It is old and the island was abandoned long ago from what I gathered, it seems right up an old explorer’s alley.”

Intrepid mulled the decision over in his head as he took a few more drags. He hadn’t really had a companion of any kind in a very long time, and even thinking about it made his chest tighten and throat start to close. To have another pony’s life so close to yours and so intertwined was panic inducing for him.

But could he let this young mare go to a largely unexplored and potentially dangerous island alone? She wasn’t trained like he was, she was just a curious pony.

“Then one you will have,” he retorted. He would make sure that Strata got out of this alive and completely intact. “Before we find a boat, I need to go to a post office of some sort. I have a letter to send back home.”

“A mare back in Equestria?” This wasn’t even a sarcastic jab that he usually would get, but an earnest question from Strata.

“Of sorts. Not mine, just an old friend.” He would rather keep his private matters private in regards to ponies back home. There weren’t many who still cared about him, but those who did were special to him. Even if they hadn’t ended on the best of terms when he left.

“Fair enough.”

He lead the way, having scoped out the location last night when he first arrived. It was a little building with a flag made to look like a postcard hanging out front just a block away from the dock. He retrieved the letter from his bag, a hastily and poorly written address written on it, the name legible if you took long enough to study it.

“Scratch?”

“I know it’s not all that legible, but I didn’t think it was that bad.” The letters always found their way to their destination, after all. It couldn’t be that bad.

“No, the pony it’s addressed to. Something Scratch.” Intrepid just grunted in the affirmative, not too enthusiastic to delve deeply into the correspondence. He opened a little slat on the door of the post office and slid the letter in. It would take a few weeks for the letter to get there, and he never really expected a response unless he requested one.

“So, do you have a boat?” Intrepid steered the conversation away from him and towards business. “Or is that going to be our first bit of work?” The paper stick he had been puffing on got dangerously close to his muzzle, so he spat it onto the cobblestones below and ground it down with his metal hoof.

“I hired a boat and captain back in Equestria. He’s been ferrying me around the islands and will continue to until I stop paying him.” Strata started towards the docks at the base of the sloped island and Intrepid followed. “He’s serviceable.”

“Mhm.” The elder stallion let that rattle around in his head a bit, trying to figure out the message behind the words. Most likely; good at his job but Strata didn’t like him personally. It was the strongest possibility considering the caliber of pony that Strata was.

The docks of Kalpas were filled with little boats, mostly belonging to the ponies that lived there. Nets and various apparati hung from little booms in the back of a majority of them, marking them as fishing vessels for those that made their living on the sea. Others were simple sailboats with names painted on the sides or sterns, travel vessels for families to go to other islands.

Then, of course, there were the ships the tourists came in on. They stuck out like sore hooves compared to the rather humble craft belonging to the locals. Big unruly things meant for the multi-week voyage from Equestria’s shores and beyond, one of the boats that were fitted more for comfort than function and not his preferred style of travel whatsoever.

“Strata!” Intrepid’s ears swiveled before his head did, trying to locate the sound. It came from a stallion situated on the deck of a small sailboat, the name ‘Elpída’ printed on the stern in faded black letters. The stallion was the same colors as Strata, but inverted; his coat was charcoal black and his mane was a healthy chestnut brown with some gray streaks appearing down the middle of his raggedy mane and scruffy beard.

Strata only waved at the stallion as she made her way over to the boat, Intrepid in tow. The boat itself was nothing to write home about: a little wheelhouse above deck, a sail rising high above with a small crow’s nest at the very top, and a hatch just behind it leading to whatever was below. Those things, along with the various clutter on the deck itself, just marked it as any ship you could see at any dock in the world.

“Who is your friend, my dear?” Now that he heard more than one word from the stallion, he could hear that he was speaking heavily accented Equestrian. It marked him as somepony from Alogos who had learned the second language later in his life. “Is he coming with us?”

“Yes.” Strata called back as the duo made their way down the dock and to the gangplank leading aboard the vessel. She turned back to Intrepid and gestured towards the boat’s captain with a very disinterested hoof. “This is my father, Megála Kýmata. Father, this is my new companion, Intrepid.”

Well that explained the disdain, didn’t it? Who in their right mind would want to travel for days or weeks on end with one of their parents? Intrepid loved his old man, but even he couldn’t imagine staying on a small craft with him for an indeterminate amount of time. It would drive him up a wall, and knowing Strata’s general temperament it was a good chance that wall had been scaled many times over.

“Hello friend!” Strata’s father said with a hearty laugh as he made his way from the deck to meet them at the gangplank. “Please, Intrepid, call me Mega! My name can be a mouthful for your tongue, I know.” Mega held his hoof out for what Intrepid thought was a hoofshake, but when he extended his own to reciprocate the gesture he was pulled into a rather tight hug. That alone let him know that the stallion, while looking a bit bulky, was pure muscle underneath that coat.

“Nice to meet you…” Intrepid squeaked out as he was crushed by the muscular hooves of the sailor. After noticing the pegasus’ slightly blue face, Mega dropped him to the ground and chuckled, letting the stallion take in gulps of air at a time.

“You brought a pony that is more métallo pará aíma!” Mega exclaimed as he gestured to Intrepid’s prosthetic limb. That was something that he didn’t even need a translation to understand, the usual shock to his condition was pretty universal. He could only take it in stride and hold back a sigh.

“Father, that is not nice.” Strata stated as she made her way by both stallions and made her way on board. “Enough with the pleasantries, the both of you! We have an island to get to.” There was the Strata he had first met at the inn, distant and cold.

“It is alright, sir. I get that often, I’m not offended.” Once Mega began moving, he followed onto the deck at a leisurely pace. As soon as his hooves hit the solid wood of the deck and the boat rocked, he was reminded why he much preferred flying over sailing. Even a cloud felt more safe and secure than the deck of any ship he had ever been on.

“Ahh.” The stallion waved his hoof in the general direction of Strata as she flitted around the deck, checking knots in ropes and the security of various things. “She is just like her mother, here to keep me isorropiméni, you know?” Intrepid didn’t know, but he nodded as if he did. Context clues would have to be enough if Mega was just going to speak in a mix of Equestrian and Alogolan, context would be his best friend. “Strata, where are we headed?”

The father and daughter were side by side now, talking in their native tongue at a volume that Intrepid could not hear from this distance above the wind. Rather than sit around like the cripple some saw him as, he let the two know that he was going below deck to get settled in while they talked it over.

He lifted the hatch in the middle of the deck with his metal wing and descended into the murky darkness below. A few windows hovered just above sea level, allowing a miniscule amount of sunlight to come in and two lanterns on either end of the enclosed space. Four small cots lined the walls, chests to store belonging underneath each one. At the far end, just under the lantern, was a desk that was nailed down to the floor. The chair tucked in underneath it was old and worn, obviously well used over the years.

After looking around the cots and knocking each trunk with hoof to check if they held anything, he found the first cot on the left was free of anypony else’s belongings. For the time being, it would be his. He pulled the big unwieldy chest from under the simple cot, finding a woolen blanket and a thick sturdy pillow tucked away inside. He threw both of them on his bed and stashed his cloak and saddlebags away for later.

He had been in this situation enough that sharing sleeping quarters didn’t bother him. The small bed and cramped damp quarters didn’t bother him either. However, he knew the night would bother him. He could already feel sleep evading him when he came down here to sleep, he could feel the lanterns failing to push away the dark. Celestia, he could already feel it closing in.

“Intrepid, come up here and ready the ship with my father!” He heard the muffled yell through the deck, snapping him out of his spiral. He put his good hoof to his face and cursed under his breath as he reigned his wandering thoughts back in. He turned around, shook the fear away and headed back up top.

He had expected Mega to be in the wheelhouse, checking all of the instruments before they cut loose from the dock and doing...well, ship captain things. Instead, it was Strata in the wheelhouse and Mega going about the deck and talking to himself in his native language.

Intrepid had spent enough time on ships with his compatriots and with strangers alike to know what to do aboard a ship. He didn’t know much about sailing as an art, but he knew enough about it as a science. He understood what ropes needed to be loosened, what needed to be tightened and held down. He wasn’t as practiced as Mega, but he only had to ask for help just a few times as they readied to weigh anchor.and set sail.

Once they had shed their mooring and made way, things went in a much more expected manner: Strata went below deck, saying she wanted to check over her notes again, and Mega stayed by the helm and commanded his vessel. Not wanting to simply gaze out at the beautiful blue waters and clear skies while ruminating on his thoughts, he instead decided he would try to strike up a conversation with Mega.

“Hello again, Intrepid!” Mega turned his head and flashed the pegasus a bright smile from behind his big black beard. His eyes, unlike his daughter’s, were a bright shade of violet and filled with happiness. “Tell me, do you travel often?”

“If I’m staying still, I find that a problem.” Intrepid replied with a small chuckle. “It was my job for almost twenty years to travel, so yes.” Intrepid turned his eyes out towards the sea, looking at the small islands in the distance and wondering what their destination might hold. It was that thrill, that unknown quantity, that drove him to keep doing this. It was his addiction.

“Ah, a stallion after my own heart!” The larger stallion looked about at his compass, then to the wind vein situated at the front of the ship. Intrepid could see the gears turning as he put the two together, then nodded happily. “You must have some stories then, huh? Of thárros kai gennaiótita?” Intrepid could only hazard a guess as to what those last words even meant, but he had a good enough idea to push ahead.

“A few…” He took a deep breath, letting his mind linger on a few of his more positive experiences. “I am retired now, so my adventuring days are behind me. I am far too old and beat up to do most of the things I did when I was younger.” To punctuate his point, he rattled his metal appendages.

“How old are you, friend?” The question was not one he was expecting, but he wasn’t offended. His body, minus his fake limbs, looked younger than his face and rapidly graying mane did. Often times the guesses he got for his age were either ten years too young, or fifteen years too old.

“Fifty-Three.” Intrepid took a step forward so he was standing right beside the hulking stallion, partly so he could better read Mega’s face as he spoke, and partly to get a better view of their surroundings. “My birthday was just a few weeks ago, so…” He let the thought trail, not wanting to get caught up in that mess of a date. “You?”

“I am turning fifty in a few months.” That was a surprise. If Intrepid had to guess, he would have pegged the stallion as almost sixty at least. That was life at sea though, not good for the body but great for the soul...just like any good job should be.

The two shared a comfortable silence after that, just gazing out at the sea. Every few minutes, Mega would point out an island on the horizon, or something in the ocean that he saw to tell the older pegasus what it was. It wasn’t until almost an hour later than any sort of substantial conversation was had.

“You...in your years, you have seen thánatos…” Mega hummed grumbled as he thought of the word in Equestrian for Intrepid to understand. “...death.” He finally said. “I can see it in your eyes, you have something my father called the koíta to fántasma. The look of the ghost.” That was not something that the stallion wanted to talk about, not ever.

“Yeah…” He said with a sigh after a few moments. “Too much of it.” Out of habit, he started to tap his metal hoof against the deck, it wasn’t constant or rhythmic, it was nervous and shaky. “Have you?” At that question, he saw the sailor’s seemingly ever present smile die just a little. In Intrepid’s mind, it was fair play to ask the same question...but at that moment, he felt awful about asking it.

“I…” The stallion sighed and cursed in his native tongue. “...when I was young, I wanted to help ponies.” Intrepid nodded, he could empathize with that feeling. What pony did not want to help? It was practically in their blood. “I had a boat my patéras passed down to me, and sometimes storms got out of hoof, you know? I went out, helping deliver food and water to islands that were hit by these sklirés kataigídes...bad storms.” He saw those violet eyes darken and a frown cross his features for the first time. “There was a...typhoon. It was rogue, came from somewhere in the sea, and it hit Kreváti Alogo like Dichónoia himself.” A bitter chuckle came from Mega’s chest. “I remember...I remember, the first thing I thought when I saw it after...was…’how can so much rain cause so many fires?’”

Intrepid could only frown. He knew the pain, of being to late...of seeing such destruction and death. It was not something a lot of ponies walked away from and kept the ability to smile whenever they felt like it. So, at least he knew that Mega was strong beyond his just his body.

“I helped get rid of the dead, and I helped ease the dying.” There was pride in that statement though, pride in knowing he had done his best and helped. That was something that Intrepid could admire...not something he could relate to, though. “What about you?”

“I was an explorer…” He closed his eyes and dragged himself back to those time, to the one time in particular that he could say he looked death in the face. “Whenever we had to go somewhere dangerous, we were sent out in groups. We were in a group of five, a pair of siblings, an earth pony, my...my bestfriend, and myself. We were at a place known as ‘the Edge of Equestria’. It’s a giant cliff in the Undiscovered West; can’t see to the other side...can’t even see to the bottom.” He shook his head and fought through his every instinct to stop and shut up, he would have to deal with these memories, just as Mega had with his. “We were going along, looking for some way down or across, and we were attacked by this giant worm, a tatzlwurm. A giant scaled thing with...horrible jaws lined with hundreds of teeth...and these tongues coated with razors. It got them all, every single one of them...except me. It took their lives, and all it took from me was my leg and my wing.” It wasn’t the long version, it was spared the more...gruesome details, but it was still the truth.

“Ah…” A strong hoof reached out and patted the pegasus on the back, right between his wings. “I am sorry, nopony should see death that close.” for what it was worth, Intrepid didn’t know if he meant that close in terms of distance, or that close in terms of who was lost. “Time cannot cleanse us of the stench of death, it is not a wound. It is a nósos, a sickness. It will come back, and we have to fight it each time.” Another pat on his back. “Be strong, friend.”

Another silence followed, this one a little less comfortable than the last. It was good though, it was the silence of two ponies who understood each other more than they had before. It was a long while before either of them spoke, this time it was Intrepid who said something first.

“How long until we get to our destination?” It was the first word said in what, two hours? The sun was just past its peak and now headed down to the horizon, so they were after noon now.

“The winds should be favorable, and the weather will be clear.” Mega searched the horizon and smiled softly. “A week, if it holds.” Another pause, then the larger earth pony stretched and let out a groan as a few bones in his back popped. “Will you get Strata? I think my cot is calling for a nap if I am to sail through the night.”

Intrepid nodded as he stepped out of the wheelhouse and onto the deck. The sun beat down on his gray coat, the wind blowing the salty sea air through his mane. He took a deep breath in, savoring the fresh air and trying to ignore the swaying of the deck beneath his hooves. All things said and done, this perfect of a day could get rid of any bad thoughts that he had been harboring.

He made his way to the hatch that lead below deck and threw it open before going down himself. Below, was just how it had been earlier, not a thing changed...except now Strata was sitting at the desk, papers and various journals strewn about.. The mare herself was deep in thought, tapping a hoof against her head as she poured over her notes and research.

“Strata.” His voice was level, but raised just enough for her to hear them over the waves hitting the hull. It was enough to catch the mare’s attention and turn her head to the source. “Your father wants you to relieve him, he said he wants to nap before he has to take over for the night.”

Strata looked back at him from behind her spectacles, her bright blue eyes flitting about as she looked him over. There was a silence as she either contemplated his words or her own upcoming actions, he didn’t know wich. Either way, it was a moment before she did anything.

“My father thinks this is a bad idea.” She stated flatly as she stood up and advanced on the pegasus. “He’s an old pony, mired in tradition and superstition. He thinks it’s best to let the dead rest, even more so when it comes to a god.” Intrepid could only cock an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

“Hmm.” It was a very narrow line, he felt. He was going to be spending the next week on very small ship with two ponies who were on two sides of the same issue. In order to not get on anypony’s bad side, he would have to play this safe. “I believe that as long as we respect the dead when we are conducting our expedition, we will be fine. Do not disturb any remains, follow any customs that might be appropriate. The last group we want to upset is that which that can’t die.”

The answer seemed to be satisfactory for Strata, who just narrowed her eyes in thought and then nodded. She put a hoof on his shoulder as she moved by him, gently pushing him out of her way as she made her way above to take over for her father. He only nodded, more to himself than Strata, and then moved to his cot.

Sometime later, once the set was well on the horizon and beginning to dip down, Strata came back down and roused her father. The two exchanged a conversation in the local language, he guessed so he wouldn’t intrude on any family matters, then went about their business.

Once Strata sat down at her desk, she went back to studying her various notes and journals. Intrepid opened his mouth to speak, just small talk, maybe about the weather...but he decided against it. He would let her work for now, deduce what she could from what she had. He decided that he would try to get a headstart on sleep, instead.

He used his good front hoof to wrench and twist his prosthetic until it came loose with a slight pop. He did the same with the metal wing, working at it over the course of a few minutes until it gave way, exposing the twig-like stump that extended a few inches out from his body to the damp air of the ship’s living quarters.

He could only let out a sigh of satisfaction as he dropped his appendages into the chest. It felt good to be without those at the end of the day, it almost made him forget how he got them in the first place. It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of the mare at the other end of the room staring at him that he regretted taking his limbs off.

“Do they hurt?” The question was cold and clinical, just as Strata always was it seemed. He couldn’t be mad at her curiosity, almost everypony he met had asked a question in a very similar vein. It was just the nature of creatures, he supposed.

“No.” He looked down at the marred indentation where his leg had once come out. He had lost the whole damn thing in the accident, right up to the shoulder. Now, it was just a dent, a little pothole. “I don’t really feel them. But when I take them off...well..” He rubbed the spot with his good hoof and frowned. “...I can still feel it. The wing isn’t so bad, but the leg can get a bit frustrating.” Now he could only hope that Strata wouldn’t ask him how his limbs worked, because he had no earthly idea. His best guess, and probably the simplest, was ‘magic’.

“Interesting.” Was all he received in return. Just simple, one word, no inflection. Honestly, he appreciated it. It was a nice change of pace from the difficult and annoying deluge he usually faced from the more socially inclined ponies.

“Have you found anything else about our island or this ‘Typhon’ character?” He decided to shift the conversation towards something far away from him, about a week away. Plus, it would give his mind a rest and allow Strata to come out of her shell. He would relish in the former, but enjoy the latter.

“There is one mention of Typhon…” She drew a thick book from one of the drawers of the desk, muttering as she flipped through its pages until she found the one she was looking for. “...Ah! Here.” She tapped the page. “The hero ‘Spathí’, savior of Ypsilí Orasi from the ‘Patéras tou Tératos’...Father of Monsters.” She gave her eyes a little roll as she thought over her next few words. “He’s mentioned a few times, just in various works throughout the classical era. Though in one work, Amphora’s ‘Gods and Terrors’, he’s mentioned by name. Typhon, Father of Monsters and blight of the gods” She turned to look at Intrepid. “It’s the only thing I could find linking the name to anything in Alogos mythology.”

“A tomb at the site of an ancient battle.” Intrepid surmised with a nod. “A mighty last stand, a hero fighting some terrible monstrosity and defending the home of the gods.” He closed his eyes, just imagining some ancient pony with a sword dueling with some snake-headed monster, wings coming off of its body at ridiculous angles and fire pouring from its mouth. Of course, that would be one helluva tale.

“My thoughts exactly, a tomb for the foe and a shrine for the hero.” Strata turned back to her work and closed the tome she had pulled. “But we will just have to wait to find out the truth, now won’t we?”

He supposed they shall.

Ypsilí Orasi

----One Week Later----

The voyage to the unnamed island had been, just as Mega had said, quick and the winds had been favorable. Intrepid had spent his days making himself useful above deck when needed, and spent the rest of his time writing below. He had been meaning to jot down some of his more memorable adventures for some time, and the trip was as good of a time to do it as any other.

There were little conversations here and there, just small talk mostly. He had learned from Mega that his wife, Strata’s mother, was still alive and well. She lived in Kreváti Alogo, some sort of bureaucrat or politician from the context of it. The relationships were all fine, maybe a little distant on account of… well, Stata being Strata.

Strata, on her mother’s wishes, had been sent away when she was young to study at some prestigious school in Canterlot. It explained the lack of an accent and the wonderfully fluent Equestrian she spoke. Now, Strata hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with that information and it came over several days, but it was good to know nonetheless.

Now, the three ponies were all on the deck and looking at their destination. A mountain rose above the sea, higher than the peak of Mount Canter itself, maybe even higher than Mount Everhoof. It was a monolithic wonder of nature, one that inspired images of deities looking down on the world below. It was no wonder it’s place in mythology was so central.

If you could tear your eyes away from the cloud-obscured peak, you would see a much smaller island in its unparalleled shadow. It was so...mundane, almost unnoticeable and uninteresting. The only thing visible from its shore was a copse of trees on the solitary hill that made up what was left of the island.

Whatever calamity that had befell the island had left its obvious mark. Chunks of stone from some ancient temple or building stuck up from the ocean, the head of a statue poked up from the waves and cast solemn eyes out at passing ships. Maybe once upon a time, this little plot of land had been double, maybe triple its current size. Now that was all in the drink, consigned to be a home for the fish and the barnacles.

“Whatever you were looking for, I do not think it is here any longer.” Mega called out from the wheelhouse, one of the windows propped open by a brick. “This Typhon creature is drowned by now, or washed away.” The words were met with a stern look out at the island by Strata. Intrepid had no doubt that the mare did not share her father’s convictions.

“Take us closer and drop anchor.” That was all she said as she turned and made her way towards the hatch in the middle of the deck. “Intrepid, get your things! We’re going ashore.” With that rather forceful order, Intrepid turned and followed as quickly as he could. When he got below deck, he found Strata hurrying around, stuffing blank journals from her chest into her saddlebags and a few quills and inkwells.

Intrepid worked in silence, just gathering his saddlebags and some of the supplies they had set aside in the days prior. It wasn’t anything too extravagant, mostly things at his recommendation: about a dozen meters of rope, torches they had made from spare timber and extra pitch Mega had for smaller repairs. Just the barebones exploration gear he would expect they would need in some sort of ruin.

He had emptied his own saddlebag into the chest beneath his cot and filled it with the supplies. No sooner had he fastened it around his barrel than he found another, much heavier, pair of saddlebags tossed over his back.

His eyes met those of Strata’s. For the first time since they met, those sky blue orbs weren’t filled with a cold distance or an aloof curiosity… they were filled to the brim with genuine excitement. It was barely constrained, held back just by the iron will of the mare.

“My father won’t be able to get near the shore.” Even though her eyes were filled with an uncharacteristic exuberance, her voice was still calm and flat as it ever was. “Please, take my things and meet me there, I will have to swim.” Well that made a little more sense why his back was about ten pounds heavier, at least.

Both ponies, the explorer and the archaeologist, made their way back up. Mega was there waiting for them, a nervous smile poking out from behind his beard. Strata made her way to the edge of the boat, presumably to dive off into the crystal clear waters below, but was stopped by a strong hoof.

Strata waved off Intrepid as she engaged her father in an intimate conversation. While he didn’t understand the language, he understood body language and inflection. Concern radiated from Mega, and a stern unwavering confidence responded in kind from his daughter. It went back and forth like that as Intrepid made sure both sets of saddlebags were secured and his wings were ready for the exercise ahead.

The shore was probably just over one-thousand feet away, if he had to take a guess. Now for most pegasi that wouldn’t be a problem, but Intrepid was anything but normal and he knew it. His metal wing could be used to fly with, but it was no substitute for the real thing. He could glide, he could even get some pretty good lift out of it when the weather was right. Flying anything over a few thousand feet left him drained, though. Combine that with the load he was now carrying and it became a little more difficult.

He steadied himself, and spread his stance. His wings flared out, the fake one gleaming in the tropical light, and the warm breeze tickled his primaries. He bent his legs, his wings starting to flap slowly as he waited for the perfect gust to help him along. As soon as he felt the wind at his back, he launched himself into the air and took off over the shimmering blue waves and towards the distant shore.

A smile crossed the old stallion’s face as he soared. No matter how limited he was in the act, flying was still something he enjoyed. It brought back memories of youth; cloud-hopping high above the streets of Vanhoover, flying over besieged cities in the desert, and feeling the liberating freedom of the wind. It made him feel twenty years younger.

It was only a couple of minutes before he reached the beach, but it was a few minutes he had desperately needed. Being cooped up in small places always made him yearn to spread his wings, and it always made that open air feel so much more invigorating. It was just something that every pegasus could love, it was just so primal and… cleansing.

The moment his hooves dug into the warm soft sand of the beach, he was brought back to reality. In the distance, just off the side of the boat, he could see Strata cutting through the water at a decent clip. It would take a bit longer for her to get here than it took him, and he wasn’t fond of the idea of just sitting here and doing nothing but waiting for his companion. It would be better if he scouted out the island just a bit.

He took Strata’s saddlebag from his back and set it in the sand, far enough so that any sudden change in tide wouldn’t get to it but still close enough that the mare would see it upon reaching the shore.

With that, he turned and looked up at the singular mound that made up what was left of the island. He trudged up the hill, which itself was uneven and littered with pockmarks, up to the top where the solitary tree stood. The tree itself was crooked and bent, its branches were weighed down by giant leaves sprouting out from them and providing the nicest shade he’d felt in a lifetime. At the base of the tree was a pretty sizeable rock as well, something nice to sit on and look over the ocean and pass the time.

This had been paradise to somepony, he had no doubt about it.

While the side of the little island that faced the tree looked almost perfect, maybe a bit lumpy in a few places, the side that faced the towering peak known as the home of the gods was quite the opposite. A large chunk of earth was ripped clean from the backside of the hill, as if dug up with one massive claw. He trotted halfway down the hill, right to edge of the crater.

The scene at the bottom of that pit was one that he couldn’t rightly put into words. There was a shimmering golden barrier that sparkled and glimmered at the very bottom of the hole, one that was just over some sort of stone door at the very bottom.

It was maybe a good twenty to thirty feet to get down there, if he had to guess. They had enough rope to make the descent, but who knew if they could get past whatever that barrier was. Then the stone door itself was another obstacle. There was no sign of a locking mechanism, or any sort of runes on the door. It was just giant slabs of stones pressed together to keep ponies out.

“What did you find?” Strata’s voice called out from the beach, barely audible over the rush of wind and distance between them. He didn’t answer back, for he knew his words couldn’t rightly do this justice. He didn’t know if this was what they were looking for, but it was something extraordinary nonetheless. So instead of trying to find the right words, he instead waved his companion up.

When the young mare was finally by his side, her rich brown coat and dark mane dripping, she was left just as speechless as he was. She moved around the edges of the crater, her eyes ever-fixated on the door at the bottom. He could hear the gears in her head turning as she tried to fit what she was seeing into what she knew. Then he saw her eyes looking around the walls of the hole, looking for some way down.

“Hey, I know you want to get down there… but that magic wall doesn’t look too friendly.” To punctuate his point, he kicked a nearby rock into the pit. When it hit that shimmering barrier a crack resounded from the magic and the rock shot straight back up into the air. “Case and point…” he muttered.

“Then how did the leaves get down there?” The question was simple, and was followed by Strata pointing down. Intrepid blinked and looked down into the hole where the hoof was pointing to see that… yes, there were fresh green leaves the size of his head beneath the barrier and resting on the stone door.

Without another word, Strata circled back around to the side of the hole closest to the tree. She stood on her hind legs, her hooves pressed against the bark of the tree as she stretched and did her best to reach even the lowest branch. She was able to pull off the very tip of the heaviest, lowest hanging branch she could find. She tore it free, a few leaves still clinging to it desperately, and carried it over to the hole.

When it dropped the barrier did not hiss and spark angrily as it made contact, instead nothing happened. The twig floated harmlessly down to the stone slabs, not disturbing whatever rock-hating magic the wall was made out of.

“Give me the rope.” When he didn’t immediately comply he found Strata’s hooves reaching for his bag. He pushed her away and met her glare with one of his own.

“No.” He wouldn’t fight on this, and he wouldn’t back down. “If anypony’s going down there first, it’s me.” When Strata opened her mouth to object, he raised a hoof. “Stop and think, please. That magic may be kind to leaves and twigs, but we don’t know what it will do to a pony. I know you want to be the first to get a closer look, but there’s a reason you wanted me here, right?” He received a frustrated nod in response. “Let me do my job.”

He wasn’t trying to be mean to Strata, not at all. He was just going to keep her safe throughout this little expedition, no matter what.

He retrieved one of the lengths of rope from his bags and went up to the tree, tying it off around the thick and sturdy trunk. He could fly, yes, but in during his time traveling the lands he had found one or two places that neutralized the natural magic of ponies. He was not going to to lose his ability to fly halfway down when he didn’t know what that magic barrier would do to him. He triple checked his work before he would even think of using it to descend, each time he tugged at the knot it made him more and more anxious. ‘It would hold,’ he told himself.

His heart refused to believe his head, though. Every time he thought about going down into that pit, his heart sank. Images of the rope snapping, the tree giving way maybe, and him plummeting into that magic wall… where it fried his body and hopefully killed him rather than leaving him charred and barely alive.

“Happy thoughts…” He mumbled to himself as he took the rope and looped it around his metal hoof. He made sure it was tight, to the point that would be dangerous to any limb made of flesh and blood. Finally after a few more minutes of internal panic and continually checking and re-checking his work, he made his way over to the hole in the ground. “Hold onto it, help lower me down.” He put a hoof on her shoulder, making sure her eyes met his. “If I tell you to pull me up, then use all the strength you can to get me back up. Please.”

All he received was the same nod he always got from Strata.

With a deep breath, he put his back to the pit and began his slow descent. His rear hooves dug into the soft earthen walls of the pit, the only holds found being old roots and small rocks firmly embedded. He wanted to look up at Strata, just so he could make sure she was keeping her word, but the depths below commanded his attention more than his fears.

Training and instinct kicked in and squashed any insecurities that were bubbling up. With every foot of slack fed to him from Strata, he went down just a bit more. Thankfully, the sun was high in the sky still and provided enough lighting the whole way down, so he didn’t have to rely on just touch alone to find secure hoofholds.

The moment of truth had come rather quickly. There he was now, hanging inches above this magic barrier. He looked up to the top of the hole, seeing Strata hovering just near the edge to keep an eye on him. He nodded at her, and the gesture was reciprocated quickly.

He was going to attempt as little contact as possible with the shield over the door, if only just to hopefully minimize whatever effect it might have on him. So he stretched his back right hoof as far as it could, the very tip maybe an inch away from the golden aura. He took yet another deep breath and held this one in then closed his eyes as he pushed the tip of his hoof against the magic.

Instead of intense pain, instead of sparks, instead of being launched into the air like a clay pigeon, nothing. His hoof went through the barrier, just like the leaves and twigs, and touched the stone below. At that revelation, he opened his eyes and looked down at the barrier then right back up at Strata.

“Give me a minute before you come down!” He yelled up at the mare. “Let me do a few more tests!” He put his other rear hoof through the magic field and onto the stone to the same result, no pain and no resistance. With the help of his metal wing he undid the rope tied around his prosthetic leg, but he hesitated before putting it to the barrier. His normal legs went through the barrier fine, just like the twigs… so maybe it only let living things through it? What would that mean for metal?

Deciding that he didn’t want to find out the answer to that particular question with his leg attached to his body, Intrepid went to work detaching the metal appendage from the rest of him. Once popped free of its socket, he held it with his mouth and let it drop.

The reaction that came from the enchanted metal of his leg hitting the barrier was unlike anything else. It sat atop the glowing field at first, sparks shooting from the points of contact. Then the prosthetic started to sink into the magic very slowly. It was like a rock in quicksand the way the magic slowly enveloped his leg, very unlike the other tests so far.

“Okay.” He nodded and finally put all three of his hooves on the ground. “Come on down! But be careful!” The stallion reached down and picked up his leg, the same level of resistance that the barrier had shown before happening again to the metal limb. He busied himself with reattaching his leg as his earth pony companion descended.

“What I wouldn’t give to be a unicorn…” Strata said aloud as she planted her hooves on the stone below the field. “How old is this magic? Spells don’t last beyond death, so whoever cast it still has to be alive…” She was thinking out loud, but the questions were all valid and ones he had as well. “So most likely this is the site of some sort of… religious pilgrimage. Spathí beat this Typhon and locked him away, and the ponies who still believe that come around to put a barrier up to hold Typhon down.” She looked to Intrepid, he wasn’t sure if it was to validate this theory with him or simply for him to acknowledge he heard it. So he only gave a half-hearted shrug in response.

“Or it could be…” The stone spire of Ypsilí Orasi could still be seen even from the bottom of the pit. Mostly due to the fact that it was cut into the side of the hill facing the mountain, but either way all he had to do was look back at the ‘home of the gods’ to make his point.

“No.” Strata responded rather forcefully. “The gods of the sea were not real and are not real. It was a superstition created by ancient ponies so they could attribute the random cruelties of nature to something other than chance.” Her eyes met his, this time those bright blues were filled with the harsh light of absolute certainty.

“Okay…” Intrepid sighed and rubbed the bridge of his snout. “Well, what about other gods?” He pointed a hoof up at the sun high above and then gestured to the magical field below them. “Because I think we both know of at least one of them who, at least in stories, has the habit of locking monsters away.”

“There are no historical accounts of Princess Celestia being anywhere near the Alogos Islands, save for some diplomatic missions every fifty years or so.” Strata was now bent down, her hooves moving across the stone and searching for something. “There is nothing about her combatting any kind of monster here. So our options are; there is a religious pilgrimage of some sort to honor a fallen hero, or Spathí put this barrier up and he’s still alive in there.” She paused for a moment. “I will let you guess which option is the obviously correct one.”

“Okay then.” He wasn’t the scholar here and he wasn’t going to pretend to be either, so he would let Strata be the one to draw the conclusions. He was just here to keep her safe, not really help her with the research stuff.

He leaned against the wall of the pit, just waiting and watching. Strata slowly made her way across every inch of the two massive stone ‘doors’ she could touch. Her hooves glided across the smooth surface, feeling for markings or indentations. When she was satisfied, or perhaps quite the opposite given her frown, she stood up and looked at the elder pegasus.

“There is nothing here,” she stated, her head cocked slightly to the side. “No markings, no writing, no signs of erosion...” The mare shook her head, her usually kempt mane falling in front of her eyes. “...and no way to open it.” She moved her mane from her face and sighed. “But I can handle the fact that there is no clear opening mechanism, it is a giant stone door. What I cannot handle, is the fact that there are no signs of erosion.”

“The magic shield,” he offered. “Rocks can’t go through it, so who’s to say that rain can.” The rather obvious conclusion, perhaps. Maybe she hadn’t thought of it, though.

“No no, I thought about that.” It was worth a shot anyway, Intrepid decided. “But it rains quite frequently here, there is not a centralized weather division of the government like in Equestria. So where does the water go when it rains, hmm?” She gestured at the thirty foot deep pit they were currently at the bottom of. “The walls are all dry.” She kicked the dirt wall nearest to her, the dried and cracked earth it was comprised of falling away. “And when it rains, it stands to reason that the flow of water would bring some detritus with it, which should be littering the barrier. Where is it? It must go somewhere.”

Well, it turned out that Strata thought a lot more than he did, and a lot faster too. Those were all actually really good points he hadn’t even gotten to asking himself about, mainly because the magic field had been his biggest concern from the jump. He didn’t really have a theory for any of this, and he suspected that Strata would not take well to the sarcasm he was biting back.

“I can fly back to the boat and get a bucket.” He offered with a shrug. “Fill it with some ocean water and dump it down here, see what happens.” It was a practical solution, but one he felt that Strata would appreciate more than wild speculations. He was actually right, for once, and Strata nodded and waved him away.

With the help of his wings and the rope, he climbed his way out of the pit and back onto the hillside. He stopped by the tree and stretched a bit, his knees and back popping with the strain of old age and a lot of sudden activity. He then tossed his saddlebags onto the ground at the base of the solitary tree, deciding he didn’t need all that extra weight, and took off.

He made better time back to the ship now that he wasn’t bogged down with two ponies worth of supplies and a library’s worth of books and journals. Mega was waiting aboard eagerly, keeping an eye on the island and where he knew his daughter was.

“Mega, do you have a bucket we can borrow?” He had the distinct feeling that Strata also wasn’t a fan of delays or lollygagging, so he skipped the pleasantries for now.

“Is she alright?” The concern a father had for his daughter was present from the way he held himself, to the shaky tone in his voice. “She is not in any danger, right?”

“She’s okay.” Intrepid put a hoof on the bulky stallion’s shoulder and smiled. “We just need a bucket to run a little experiment on a rock we found.” Not technically a lie, and he left out the whole magic force field, but he figured the technical truth was better for the sailor’s nerves.

“There is a bucket in the wheelhouse…” With his objective confirmed, he started off towards it. However, Mega stayed by him the while he walked. “Listen, fílos, friend… Strata does not believe in the legends our ancestors. She thinks of them as just…” The bearded stallion searched for the word, waving a hoof as he wracked his brain for it.

“Superstitions?” Intrepid offered as he picked up the aforementioned bucket.

“Yes, our superstitions.” Mega stepped in front of Intrepid, blocking his way out of the wheelhouse. “This island… it is dangerous. It is said that the ships and souls of the dead who angered the gods, they raise. Ypsilí Orasi is a sacred place, it brings hope to all who see it. This island though, it has no name for a reason. It is cursed.”

“No harm will come to your daughter.” Intrepid looked straight into Mega’s eyes when he said that. “You have my word that I will do whatever necessary to get her back to you, no matter what happens.” The two stallions stayed in silence for almost a full minute, Mega searched the pegasus’ eyes for any sign that he should not trust that word.

In the end he found none.

“I will hold you to that, then!” Mega laughed loudly and slapped Intrepid right on his bad shoulder. In an instant all of that fear and anxiousness had evaporated, like just his promise had quashed all of it like a bug beneath it’s heel. “Now get going, huh? Strata is very… she hates waiting!”

Intrepid would be remiss if he failed to admit to himself that the level of confidence Mega had put into him didn't feel good. It had been Celestia knows how long since he had that level of trust put in his hooves and it did wonders for his mindset. That little shift in confidence alone made his gathering of water and the flight back even faster than it felt.

Arriving back at the hole, he found Strata still on the bottom and now attempting to pull the two stone slabs apart with her raw earth pony strength. It wasn’t until Intrepid cleared his throat that she looked up and saw him. With an embarrassed look that even he could see from this range, she pulled away and smoothed her mane with her hooves.

“Yes...um...Intrepid, please just throw the water down.” He raised an eyebrow at the request, and Strata seemed to be able to read his concern before he voiced it. “I am still damp from my little swim and I will make sure my saddlebags stay dry, you don’t need to worry about me.”

With a final shrug, he dumped the bucket into the hole from right above. Both he and Strata watched as the water fell through the open shaft and each and every time even a drop got near the earthen edges, it was repelled by a sudden extension of the barrier at the bottom. Both ponies watched in amazement as the magic seemingly kept the walls clean and clear of the rushing water as it fell, making sure the entrance wouldn’t be covered up by the erosion of the pit around it.

Once the water hit the magic field at the bottom, they saw something even more awesome. The water held there for a second as the magic corralled it into one neat orderly line right over the vertical seam where the two giant stone slabs met.

Then the door opened.

Now, it didn't open much. Not enough for a pony to get through, but just enough for the magic to extend down and funnel the water into the inky blackness beyond. Then the door slammed shut almost as fast as it had opened, not offering the earth pony below any chance to investigate.

“We need to do it again!” Strata exclaimed as loud as she could, a fire building in her eyes and voice. “There’s some sort of drain on the other side, I heard it!” He heard his companion mumble, but didn’t catch a word of it. “We need more this time!”

“How?!” Intrepid yelled back. “I am one pony with one bucket! So unless you’re hiding a horn under that mane and know how to levitate water with it, I’m afraid that’s all we can do!” He was only met with an incredulous look from his companion.

“You are a pegasus!” She yelled back, her ears laid back in frustration. “I know there are clouds around! So get the biggest cloud you can find, put it right over this hole, and we will flood this hole if we have to just to get in!” The amount of pure determination that radiated from the mare in the pit could put a Wonderbolt to shame, Intrepid figured.

“Okay, just get out of there while I get this!” He stepped away, then immediately stepped back so he could see into the hole. “I mean it! I am not going to drown you down there!” With that settled, he took to the sky for what he hoped would be the last time for the next week or so. He would even swim back to the boat after all of this was said and done if it just meant he didn’t have to work his wings again.

It wasn’t a particularly cloudy day out, so he had to fly a lot more than he ever wanted to. He even had to extend out over the sea towards Ypsilí Orasi, and while it was closer it was still not a walk in the park. In total, it took him maybe an hour and a half to gather up enough clouds to form even a respectable storm cloud. When it was all said and done, the cloud was maybe about double his size and about the same shade as his coat to boot.

When he wrangled it over to the island, and just over the pit, he found Strata with her nose in one of her blank journals and a quill between her teeth. She glanced at Intrepid, just acknowledging that his end of the plan was complete. After putting the finishing touches on whatever it was she was drawing, she put the journal back into her bag and stood up.

“Are we ready?”

“No.” With one last effort, he flew up to the branches hanging over them and gathered all of the giant leaves he could carry. Once his foraging was done, he put the collection in front of Strata. “Wrap your saddlebags in these as tight as you can.” He took his two shorter lengths of rope from his saddlebags and put them to the side, then went about showing Strata his technique. “It won’t be perfect waterproofing, but it’s better than holding it close to your chest and hoping for the best.” He put the two pouches of his bags on top of each other and then began to layer and weave the leaves on top of one another until he was satisfied. He then took his rope and tied it all up the best he could, hoping that it would be enough to keep the torches dry.

“Now I’m going to unload every drop of water in that cloud into that hole.” He pushed his saddlebags over to Strata as he spoke. “I want you on that rope and ready to dive in whenever I’m done.” He saw the mare’s brow furrow and her mouth open to protest. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll get in. If I screw up, I can just try this again. On this first go we need you and our stuff in, though.” He took a deep breath and bit his lip as he looked at the mouth of the pit. “Once we get in, how are we getting out?”

“Every other tomb in the region has a secret exit built into it, I should be able to find it.” She caught sight of the raised eyebrow from Intrepid and amended her statement. “If, and I emphasize, if I cannot find that secret entrance… well, we know the water drains somewhere. Most likely back to the ocean. So we would just have to find the drain, which has more than likely been eroded by centuries upon centuries of water flowing through it, and hopefully use that as an escape.”

“Fine.” He walked around to the opposite side of the tree, putting both of his front hooves on the rock that rested in the shade of the ancient tree, and pushed. It took a monumental effort to move the piece of stone, which was about half the height of himself and twice as wide, but after a solid ten minutes he got it to the edge of the pit. “One last failsafe.” He managed to get out between heavy breaths. “That barrier takes a bit to figure out how much water it’s dealing with....” He had to catch himself as his knees felt like they were about to give and he swore under his breath.

“So…” Strata stood up and examined the small boulder, then looked over the side of what would soon be a well. “...when enough water is gathered, we push the rock in and hope that the barrier will both hold and that the water will negate the...rebounding properties we observed before. Then we hope that the opening is either the perfect width to accommodate the rock, or that the opening below the door is shallow enough that we can prop the rock up on end to keep the door open, yes?”

“That’s the gist, yeah.” Intrepid leaned against the rock, using his good hoof to wipe sweat from his brow and move his mane from his face. “It ain’t perfect…”

“No, it is not.” Strata frowned, narrowing her eyes to slits. “We are leaving too much of this plan up to luck.” Well, at least she saw the problem now. Personally, he was fine with dying. The idea of being trapped in some Celestia-forbidden tomb in the middle of nowhere and left to die… well, it wouldn’t be so bad. He couldn’t let Strata meet that fate though, he’d made a promise to her old man. He had to do everything in his power to make sure that she got out of here intact, and if that meant relying on luck and chance, well he would have to settle for it.

“It’s either luck or nothing at all, Strata.” He stated bluntly, looking up at her through tired eyes. “This is your expedition, it’s your choice. I’m just here to help.”

“Okay.” That determination had not faded, not one little bit. That fire still raged inside of her, that thirst for knowledge and discovery. In another life, another time, she would’ve made a fine explorer. Hell, maybe after all of this was said and done he could convince her to go back to Canterlot and join up. The Force always needed fresh bodies.

By the time he felt rested enough to get the job done, the sun was getting lower and lower in the sky. It was at the behest of Strata that he finally lifted himself from the boulder and up to his stormcloud. The plan was ready and set, he was just waiting for the word ‘go’.

When Strata was hovering about three-quarters of the way down the pit, she signalled Intrepid to start. He jumped a few times on the cloud, coaxing the water out from the heavy dark lump of fluff he had put together. It took a few seconds, but the desired effect was finally achieved.

The deluge of water that poured from his cloud would be enough to drown a horse, let alone a pony. It filled the hole, bouncing off of the walls thrown up by the magic barrier at the bottom, and ultimately making a pool some three or four feet deep. Once he was sure every drop was out, he knew they were on the clock.

He heard the splash as Strata dropped in and then the sloshing as she moved to the far side of the pit. By that point, he was already pressed against the rock and pushing it with all of his might. He heard the magic spark and crackle as it finally started to pull apart and he could hear the water begin to drain.

The rock went over the edge and hit that barrier hard but just like he and Strata had hoped, the water dampened it just enough for it not to ricochet right back up. He didn’t even wait, just dove in straight after it and used his wings to slow his descent barely enough to prevent his knees from snapping on impact.

The field had opened the doors wide enough for a pony of Mega’s size, so he and Strata would have no problems. She went in blind with the rush of water, the wrapped saddlebags clutched against her chest as she was swept into the darkness below. He could only hope that she had sense enough to get out of the way as he did his part.

He started to push the rock towards the opening well before it started to close, but even then he felt it wasn’t soon enough. He had it at the precipice just as he started to worry, but one last push sent it tipping over the edge. The rock was caught squarely in the jaws of the door, the two sides attempting to crush the rock but not getting an inch from the sturdy little boulder.

Intrepid took the chance, not knowing how long he would have before the brave little stone gave way to greater forces. The gap was just enough for a pony his size to squeeze through with moderate difficulty, his wings had to be almost flat at his sides to get past the two foot thick stone slabs, but he got through in the end.

He tumbled through the air for a few feet, maybe five to seven if he had to make an educated guess, and landed in a deep puddle with a wet thud. He cast a glance upwards with caution, only to see the little boulder still holding back the magically powered slabs above.

They had their exit.

“Strata?” He called out into the darkness. The fading sunlight provided very little insight into his surroundings, only giving him the view of the water around his hooves draining quickly somewhere behind him, and a plain stone wall in front of him. “Strata, where are you?!”

“Here!” A faint light to his left caught his eye, a pony with a torch in the crook of her front left leg. He stood, trudging through the puddle, and then eventually up to Strata. She gave Intrepid his saddlebag, an excited smile plastered across her dripping face and illuminated by torchlight. “Intrepid, you need to see this.”

“Okay, but first...the rock worked. It’s wedged open just enough for us to get through, it’s going to be a tight fit but it’s doable.” She nodded absentmindedly as she tugged on his hoof and pulled him down the corridor she had appeared from. He used his wings to fish out a torch for himself and light it with a match before he got to wherever Strata was dragging him.

“Look.” Was all she said as they rounded the corner and came face to face with death. Propped up against the wall was the long dead corpse of a unicorn. It’s skin was pulled tight against its bones and a horrified look was etched onto its bony features. The rather dry air and lack of any kind of bugs kept the body in relatively good shape, given how long it must’ve been here to reach this state.

The body was not what Strata had been pointing to, though. She was more interested in the message above the body, written in long-dried crimson...most likely blood. Whatever it said, Intrepid couldn’t read it. It almost looked like Alogolan, but not really.

“I haven’t translated it yet.” The mare finally failed to hold the excitement from her voice for the first time, her smile reaching from ear to ear. It was a rare and enchanting sight, and it was earned. “Just...hold your torch up, please. I need to see what this says.”

He shrugged and lifted his torch with his metal wing, putting it right over Strata’s shoulder as she sat down to give her just enough light. Her own torch was propped against the wall right by the mummified corpse of the unicorn.

The more he stared at the body, the more something felt off about it. The chest was split open, the ribcage shattered by some massive force… so he died by something blunt caving his chest in and crushing his heart. That was the theory, until he saw that skin wasn’t pushed in like it would to indicate a blunt force… it was pushed outwards. As if something had pounded its way through the poor unicorn’s ribs and out through its chest. With the light of the torch and the way the body was positioned, he couldn’t tell if it was clean through… but for the implication alone, he hoped it was.

“They are the Shackled, bound to another’s soul. Blame them not.” Strata read aloud as she looked back up at the message, then again back at her journal to confirm. “That word, Shackled, it was used as a proper noun. Some kind of term for a...maybe a slave of some kind?” He knew she was just theorizing out loud, but he didn’t mind.

“Does it give any clue who this poor soul was?” He motioned the torch to the corpse against the wall. That was his biggest question at the moment. Hopefully it wasn’t some brave explorer or archaeologist who got stuck down here and went mad. Hopefully.

“Well it is signed.” She pointed to the word just below the message, that trailed off and lead to the corpse’s hoof. “Though, I believe this pony might have been...well, crazy. This cannot actually be the pony who the writing says it is.” She looked up and stared at the mummified remains, her eyes searching for more answers than were provided. “Spathí. That’s who it says this is.”

“What, like the hero?” Intrepid blurted out without hesitation. If that was true and this was the Spathí from the legends, and if this was the site of that battle from long ago...then was there a monster? That was the only thing racing through his mind now, was there actually danger down here beyond getting trapped? Was the legend true?

“Do not be ridiculous.” Strata scoffed and stood, picking up her torch as she did so. “This was most likely some deluded pony who thought he was Spathí. Believing you were a reincarnated hero was popular after the collapse of the greater Alogos empire almost six-hundred years ago. This is most likely the result of a rather intense belief in that.” Despite the confidence oozing from every word that the earth pony mare spoke, Intrepid just couldn’t shake that bad feeling creeping up in his gut.

“If you say so…” He muttered, looking down the tunnel and into the darkness. “Shall we go on?” All he wanted to do now was move on from this grim sight, put it behind him and find something a bit more interesting and less...foreboding.

“Yes, definitely.” Strata stood, tucking away her journal and moving on. Intrepid spared the poor mummified corpse of ‘Spathí’ one last sad glance before they left it alone in the dark once more.

The pair walked in silence for a good fifteen minutes or so, their heads on a swivel and looking for anything else that Strata could study. It took a bit of confirmation, but they both figured out that they were walking on a very slight slope. Wherever they were going, it was far from the entrance and down quite a ways. In the end, they found nothing along that long dark corridor. At the end of it, though, they found more than they had ever bargained for.

The corridor opened into a massive room, the size of which confirmed Intrepid’s notion that they were now not underneath the island anymore...no, now they were somewhere under the sea. If his orientation was on point, then he guessed they were out towards Ypsilí Orasi and significantly farther away from Mega and the boat.

The room itself was giant and consisted of two floors. The first had all sorts of runes carved into the floors and little lines in the stone connected them all. If he had any clue about how runic magic worked, he might be able to make half of a guess, but both he and Strata were uneducated on that front.

The second floor of the room was connected to the first by way of a double staircase that formed a crescent moon shape with a pronounced platform where both sets of stairs met. The rest of the second floor looked to be mostly bare from their vantage point, an aged and warped railing being the only distinguishing feature.

The other thing that was immediately noticeable about the room was it looked like a battlefield. Corpses, just like the one they had seen back towards the entrance, were littered about the room. Some wore armor while some were bare of anything, others had swords or spears jutting from their bodies. Every single one of them, maybe two dozen at the most, had met their bloody and brutal end fighting over something in this room.

“Sweet Celestia…” Intrepid choked back a growing lump in his throat. He had seen death in his time, more than his fair share, but this was something else. This was just… sickening. Ponies weren’t meant to die like this, in some sort of bloody conflict in a place where the sun couldn’t look down on them. It wasn’t right.

“Some kind of ritualistic battleground, maybe?” Strata did not seem perturbed by the thoughts of how these ponies died, or what led them here. She was filled with the same cold fascination which led her to dismiss the plausibility of that other body actually being Spathí. How he wished he could do the same. “These runes on the floor, carved instead of drawn on with anything, seems to indicate that they were used regularly enough to not be worth drawing and redrawing constantly.”

“Or that they were meant to be filled with something…” He saw the dried blood still in the cracks, filling every crevice with the unsightly dark crimson color. It wasn’t easy to ignore, no matter how hard he tried.

“There were… stories…” Strata trailed off as she found a sconce at the base of where the two staircases met and set her torch in it. She sat right below it and pulled her journal out along with some books. “Can you put some more torches up, please? I would like to get a full picture.”

Intrepid nodded, pushing down the pain in his stomach and swallowing that bad feeling in his throat. He moved around the room, carefully stepping around the dead and sending up a non-verbal prayer for each equine he passed, and put up torches and lit them wherever he could find places for them. The whole time, he just listened to Strata talk.

“There were stories of a blood cult…” She went into her scholar mode, rattling off facts like an educated automaton. “...they have never been verified and the idea is widely discredited by scholars, mostly because unicorns and magically inclined creatures were so rare in Alogos before more formal contact with Equestria was established. Others dismissed it just because it offended them to think that their ancestors, the mighty cultured ponies of the greatest seafaring race of their time, could stoop to such brutality.” Intrepid glanced at his companion, just in time to see a wicked grin cross her face. “But once I copy these runes down and send the sketches back to Celestia’s School for verification… I think we’ll finally have confirmation of this blood cult.”

Intrepid could sympathize with those ponies who thought this kind of cruelty was beyond equine capability. He wanted to believe that too, but now that he was staring it in the face, could he? The whole room stunk of evil, tinted with the copper of too much spilled blood.

“But why all of the bodies?” That’s what he didn’t understand, it just didn’t make any sense. “Why were they all fighting… and how did that pony in the hall get away?” He hated the notions beating away inside of his brain, he hated the thought that something sinister had happened here and left a trail of blood this long with no explanation. If he could just contextualize the violence, put it into perspective and figure out what they were fighting for and if it was right or wrong, it would help so much.

It wasn’t until he studied every body he could find on the first floor that he came to a startling conclusion: less than half of these ponies died from weapons. The rest all had the exact same wound that the pony in the hall, Spathí, had. Their chests were burst open from the inside, and there were no entry wounds on their backs. So whatever had killed them, had indeed come from inside with no visible entrance.

“Strata, what killed these ones?” For once he wanted Strata to be cold and clinical, he wanted her to have an answer that made sense. He needed her to have some sort of answer that could set his mind at ease.

“I don’t know. A mystery for later.”

His heart dropped, the breath caught in his throat and he struggled to find anymore words. Some primal part of his brain was urging him to get Strata and run, just bolt from this place and shut the door behind them for the rest of eternity.

“I’m going to go up to the second floor. Maybe some answers await?” He hoped beyond hope and prayed to whatever gods watched over him and this place that Strata was right. There were answers upstairs, there had to be.

Strata was halfway up the stairs by the time that Intrepid had gathered up the courage to move again. As he moved across the room, he could feel every eyeless socket of every dry and dessicated corpse following him. He could feel the death in the air, weighing ever down on his very soul.

Strata didn’t even seem to care.

“Are you alright?” He nearly jumped out of his skin as Strata put a hoof on his barrel. He could barely stand to meet her eyes as she looked earnestly at him with sincere worry in her eyes. “Intrepid?”

“No,” he said honestly, licking his lips and trying to get his mouth to stop being so dry. “Th-this… is all so… messed up.” It took him a bit to finish his sentence, he had to fight through the sense of terror and dread that was overtaking him. “I just-how is this not getting to you?”

“Intrepid. They are dead.” It was a simple statement of fact, just the same blunt and non-sugar coated way she always spoke. This time it did little to calm his nerves. “There is nothing we can do for them now other than figure out why they died.” Dear sweet Celestia, he wished he could share in her cold academic curiosity and not see the lives snuffed out by something he couldn’t explain.

“Strata… please, look at their chests.” She did as he asked, looking around and studying the wounds on their chests from a distance. “There are no entry wounds on their backs… their rib cages and skin are pushed outward. Whatever killed them came from inside their own bodies.” He looked her dead in the eyes, genuine fear etched across his features. “What could do that? I really need an answer right now.”

“Well…” The dismissive roll of her eyes made him all the more frustrated at her continued cool demeanor. “…if I had to make a guess right now, the unicorn in the hall. It’s obvious he was the victor in all of this, as he’s the only one not in this room.” There was that word again ‘obvious’. Anything that went against what he wanted to believe suddenly became so obvious to her. “If he was a sufficiently talented unicorn… he could have… extracted their hearts out with his magic. He might’ve been the leader of whatever this was.”

“Then why was his chest ripped open too?” He hoped the answer to this question was just as obvious as the last, but the quizzical expression he earned from the mare inspired a lot of things other than confidence.

“A good question.”

Nothing else was said, nothing else needed to be said. It was obvious that she only saw him as a frightened old fool, the same way she saw her father. She thought he was superstitious and silly… and now she was just going to disregard whatever he said without questioning it.

The second floor was largely devoid of any bodies, save for one in one of the corners. It had the same fatal injury that so many of the other bodies in the room has, and it was just slumped against the wall, mouth agape in surprise. However, this one was different from the rest as it was wearing armor...and even that was ripped through.

Now, Intrepid was in no way a blacksmith. He had never worn any kind of plate armor, nor had he ever looked too much into it. But even he knew that even an above average unicorn would have a problem pulling something through solid iron.

Of course he didn’t voice this concern to Strata. It would only fall on deaf ears, and so he would just worry in silence. His only consolation was that whoever or whatever did this was long dead, just like the rest of these ponies.

Other than that one disturbing body, they only found two other oddities on the second floor. One was a single word carved above the central landing of the staircase, the other was a doorway that lead to yet another dark corridor. Strata wanted to translate that word before she would even think about moving on.

“Hmm… I was expecting this to say ‘Typhon’.” Strata glanced back up at the word, narrowing her eyes and flattening her ears against her head in thought. “This is a name, and it is written in such a context that implies devotion… but this name is not Typhon.” She tapped her quill against her head and then pointed at the word with it. “Grogar.”

“That doesn’t sound like a name native to Alogos.” He pushed aside all of that worry and anxiety, just wanting to focus himself on Strata and her work as she documented this house of horrors.

“It’s not,” Strata said with a sigh. “Which makes this all the more confusing. Was Typhon a mistranslation, or just perhaps what the ponies here called this ‘Grogar’? Maybe this is not even related to Typhon at all and we just… stumbled upon the wrong tomb.”

Intrepid let loose a bitter chuckle at that thought. It would be just his luck to accidentally find an ancient underground vault filled with mutilated corpses and built to honor the wrong evil god. He did what he had been doing for the past twenty minutes at this point, and he just hoped. He hoped that this was all going to turn out to be nothing and the burst-open chests were going to be explained further down the line.

He could only hope.

“It’s going to be fascinating to share all of this later.” Strata put her journal away and moved towards the doorway that lead deeper into this place. “Come along, Intrepid. I want to see how deep this goes.”

Intrepid wanted to go back and just leave Strata to study in this grim temple all she wanted. He desperately wanted to leave, even without her if it meant he didn’t have to be here anymore… but that damn promise kept rattling around his head. He couldn’t betray Mega’s belief in him, he couldn’t make his word mean nothing.

So on they went, into the darkness once more.

Mercifully, this corridor was much shorter than the last. It was maybe a short five minute walk at a brisk pace to the next chamber. Once again, the walls were just plain featureless stone. No bodies littered the corridor, no messages scribbled in blood… and thankfully no life.

The final chamber was the strangest of them all, and that was not a good thing. It was a large circular room with a small platform that rose some forty feet up into the air. Stairs went from the floor up to that platform, starting wide enough for ten ponies at their base and tapering to a point where they were just wide enough one pony to stand on a single step at the very top.

The stairs and the platform made it extremely difficult to get a good overview of the whole room, but Strata wasn’t exactly interested in that. She was more interested in an object they could barely see resting high above on the platform, some kind of glass sphere or ball that was emitting just enough light to cut through the black.

While Strata took the lead going up, Intrepid kept his head on the swivel. At the base of the stairs and their side of the platform, he didn’t see a single trace of a dessicated body. As they went farther up, he could see less and less on the ground and it only filled him with even more anxiety.

As they came to the apex of the room, they both got a clear look at a sphere the size of their heads resting on a little plinth rising from the platform. It was mostly brown, a sharp black haze invading from the non-existent edges, and a solid black horizontal bar crossing through the middle. It reminded him of the eye of a goat, so much so that he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was… watching him. What’s more, whatever direction you viewed it from supplied you with the exact same image… as if the design was some illusion projected from the inside.

“How bizarre…” Strata pulled out her journal once more and made a rough sketch of the orb. “Some kind of enchanted relic. Perhaps a crystal ball or some sort of mind control device?” He knew she was thinking out loud, as she was wont to do, and it unsettled him a little bit more. Mind control might make those ponies in the first room fight each other, but it still didn’t explain the chests.

“It might be dangerous…” Intrepid offered, gently tugging at her and coaxing her away from the unnerving object. It was the centerpiece of this room for a reason, and it was in the deepest part of this structure for a reason. There was no way it was safe, not one little bit.

“Oh, it is quite dangerous.” A gravelly and deep voice boomed from the darkness below. It was just as flat and level as Strata’s, but just the implication that they were not alone sent shivers up his spine and grabbed ahold of his heart.

Both of the ponies backed away from the orb and began to move down the steps. For the first time since they entered, Strata was speechless and her eyes just as wide as his own. Her mouth was moving, and she was speaking...but it wasn’t audible. If he had to guess based on lip reading, she just kept on repeating one word over and over and over again.

“No.”

A pair of blood red pupils framed by glowing yellow eyes appeared in the darkness, coming from around the backside of the pillar in the middle of the room. As the eyes drew closer, a soft muted dinging could be heard coming from the same direction, almost like a cowbell. Every step from the now invisible beast was matched with the same soft ‘ting’ of the bell and a thud from it’s appendages striking the ground.

“Keep moving backwards towards the exit,” Intrepid whispered into Strata’s ear. He received a barely perceptible nod from the mare in response.

“What?” The beast in the dark asked. “You think you can just come in and leave? If you entered this place, then you know the way out as well.” That was less a statement of the obvious and more of a threat. The voice was dripping with an eerie enthusiasm that only served to make Intrepid’s heart sink further.

The ponies and the beast kept their eyes locked on one another; the former made their way down the stairs and the latter matched their pace as it advanced on them. It wasn’t until they were back on solid ground that the creature came within the scope of the light of their torches, and when it did they both wished it hadn’t.

The beast was a large blue ram, perhaps twice the height of a normal pony and about as solidly muscled as Strata’s father. It wore a thick red harness decorated with an assortment of golden bells, each one adorned with some symbol or rune. It’s thick horns curled all the way back so the tips were practically always scratching it’s hunched back. Worst of all were the pointed fangs that peeked out from the unnerving smile across his face.

“Strata… run.”

Both ponies spun on their hooves and booked it as fast as they could down the darkened hall they had come from. There was no roar of frustration from the monstrous ram behind them, instead they only heard the steady rhythm of cloven hooves against stone and the soft jingling of bells as that thing galloped after them.

Intrepid felt his body protest, the physical activity from earlier in the day causing his muscles and joints to scream at him to stop, but his mind wouldn’t let them. He fought past the pain, only listening to his heart pounding in his ears as he ran with all of his might from the pursuing beast.

The only other thing he was focused on other than running was Strata. The terror from her eyes was gone, replaced instead by the same cold analytical indifference that was there the first day he met her. Except this time, it didn’t speak of a pony who was disinterested in the comings and goings of the ponies around her, this time it showed a pony who was trying to distance herself from the current reality. He could only hope that when they got out of this, she would cope a lot better than she currently was.

They came across the multi-leveled room full of bodies, the blue beast hot on their hooves as they both banked hard towards the stairs. Intrepid leapt from the top, landing with a heavy thud and a painful impact to his knees. Strata, on the other hoof, sprinted down the stairs. It made Intrepid stop and wait for her, but it also gave him the chance to look back.

The hulking ram stood at the top of the stairs, right in the middle where they met. His eyes glowed red, brighter than before, and that glow moved to both of his spiraled horns. The word carved into the wall started to shine with the same eerie red light as the beast did, then he spoke one word.

“Rise.”

The runes that decorated the first floor sprung to life, practically blinding the two ponies as the once dried and stale blood became fresh again. It flowed from rune to rune, filling the room with an oppressive magic the likes Intrepid had never felt before.

Then all hell broke loose.

The corpses that had their chests ripped open, they started to move. It was slow at first, their old dusty bones shaking off centuries upon centuries of dust and disuse and the dark magic of the ram reanimated them one by one. Their heads all turned to the ponies, the will of their necromantic master apparently clear without a word being said.

That word near the entrance made a lot more sense now. Shackled. That’s what these dead were, they were shackled to this monster, this...Grogar. He had somehow killed them and now they were his to do with what he pleased. They were bound to him in death, and now they wanted Intrepid and Strata to join them.

They both ducked a couple of grasping hooves of the newly undead and kept making their way towards the exit. The dead were still moving slowly, their muscles long since deteriorated and only magic keeping them going anymore.

Their lack of speed and coordination was the only thing saving the ponies from death and the beast behind. Strata was still somehow not visibly panicking, only keeping her eyes straight ahead and never wavering. Intrepid’s head was constantly moving, eyes wide and taking in every little movement from the rising dead as the two weaved their way through the now writhing crowd.

Once they hit the tunnel to go back to the entrance, Intrepid felt a brief wave of relief wash over him. It was quickly drowned out by fear as the sound of thundering hooves started up behind them once more. The dead may be slow and clumsy, but that Grogar was anything but.

The once fifteen minute walk became a very quick three minute run as both ponies blazed down the black corridor and to their only shot at salvation. Even now, Intrepid was forming the plan in his head: he would help get Strata out first, fending off whatever got too close, then he would get out and kick that boulder free and seal this place off for the rest of time and then tell everypony to stay away. He would go straight to Princess Celestia herself to get her to blow up this island once and for all.

The one thing he had forgotten about was the corpse right around the corner from the entrance. It was already up, its head turned to face the pair as they ran towards it, and its mouth moving as if it was talking. It reached out with hooves to grab at Strata.

Intrepid shoved her out of the way and extended his metal wing. In one swipe, the cold steel of his prosthetic cut through the dry and ancient bones of the Shackled Spathí. The head of the legendary hero rolled off, tumbling to the ground and hitting the stone with a faint crack. The pegasus could only spare but a single thought for the fallen legend as the two rounded the corner towards freedom.

Just like when they left, the little boulder was still valiantly holding back the two slabs of pure stone. Intrepid could only thank Celestia for those little miracles as they got closer. He gave the mare a rough shove towards the exit, hoping his intentions were clear without words.

“I need help getting up, Intrepid.” Somehow Strata’s voice kept it’s cold and level tone, even through all of this horror she still couldn’t show a hint of emotion. It was a stark contrast to the frazzled and panicked front he was putting forward now.

“Okay, yeah.” He didn’t hesitated, not even for a second. That promise to Mega was still bouncing around his head like a furious pinball. That was his mission right now, and he had to see it through to the end. So he kneeled down and let the mare stand on his back on her hind legs. He fought through the pain to lift her up, to get her closer to that freedom.

“Stop!” The voice roared from the demonic ram as he rounded the corner, his eyes focused on the two ponies as they attempted to escape from his abode.

Intrepid closed his eyes and pushed as hard as he could, launching Strata up. He looked up just in time to see her scrambling to pull herself the rest of the way up and out into the weaning light of the day. Intrepid let a small grin escape as he knew his primary job was done, now all he had to do was follow.

“NO!”

A terrible pain gripped his chest, one magnitudes worse than any other pain he had ever felt, greater even than the moment his leg and wing had been ripped from him. He cried out as the debilitating sensation overtook him, bringing him to his knees and pulling tears from his eyes. He looked up towards the light, just to see Strata looking back down at him. The pain grew worse and the approaching hoofsteps of Grogar grew closer, spurring the pegasus into action.

“You have to go!” He screamed out at her, the light fading from his vision as the crushing pain in his chest grew stronger. “Please!” He didn’t even care about himself anymore, he couldn’t let this horror out… he couldn’t let Strata get hurt.

Even if it cost him his life.

His pounding heartbeat in his ears finally stopped with one last surge of pain and a spray of blood on his face. He looked down, just in time to see his chest ripped open from the inside...bits of skin and fur hung from shattered ribs as his bloody and still beating heart hung over him in the grasp of dark red magic.

He looked up at the sky one last time through the opening, the sky fading away into shades of orange and purple as the sun set on the world. He could imagine sitting beneath the tree above, watching the sun set behind the impossibly high peak of Ypsilí Orasi and drifting off as a million stars became visible above as the moon took its rightful place.

Paradise to most, especially to those passing on.

“I’m sorry…” The words reached his ears and fought through his dying brain to deliver that one last message. He could hear hooves against stone, then he couldn’t see the light anymore...and he was left alone in the dark with the monsters.

They didn’t matter, though… because he would be with his friends again soon. He would see them again and finally apologize for letting them die.

Shackled

“Rise.”

The voice commanded and his body obeyed. Despite the lack of heart, despite the extreme blood loss, despite the fact that his body had died some time ago, he rose. The old pegasus’ body rose against its will, his eyes opening and glazing over with a hint of red.

“Strata…” He mumbled out as his hooves found purchase on the featureless stone floor. Once he was fully upright, he was once again face to face with Grogar and his squad of the damned. Instead of malice like before, the ram only regarded Intrepid with a mild curiosity.

“This one is more metal than flesh.” The necromancer observed cooly as he lifted the pony’s metal leg with his magic grip. “You will be instrumental to my escape, I think.” The beast then moved past Intrepid and towards the stone door above.

Everything in Intrepid’s mind was telling him to fight or run. He wanted to spin and use his metal hoof to bash Grogar’s skull in, then sprint off back into the temple to hide and wait… or maybe just to die again. But whatever he wanted to do, whatever he told his body to do, it wouldn’t happen. His body refused to comply and stood there, waiting. The only view he was provided with was the the almost two dozen Shackled thralls staring back at him with their empty sockets.

“Yes, you want to kill me. I know.” Grogar grumbled out. “Get those ideas out while you still can!” Intrepid’s mind froze as the ram spoke. How, how did this monster know what he was thinking? Was it just common with his thralls, or- “I know what you’re thinking because I have consumed your essence, your soul is now forever linked to my own. I can hear you, I control you… but you still exist. You will remain in there for as long as you stay sane, so a decade at most I think. Do not fret, I will put you to good use.”

Without a word Grogar retreated from the door and his army of the dead advanced, minus Intrepid. The ancient bodies clambered over one another as they reached up to stone door, then they threw their brittle bones at the stone, wailing on it and pounding away at solid rock in a vain attempt to dig through. Their bodies broke, hooves and legs splintering and shattering as they willingly broke what was left of their corpses to please the command of their masters.

“She got away…” Intrepid spoke aloud, apparently only his mouth under his control at this point. “She got away…” He couldn’t make it say more than just a couple of words at a time, but it mattered to him. He was still here, he could still do something apart from Grogar.

“It will go away in time. All of you will.” Grogar walked past the pegasus, his head held high and purpose in his steps. “When they are spent, only then will you start.”

Intrepid didn’t question it, he just knew that he would obey.

-- ?????? --

How long had he been here? There was no more light, the torches had gone out an entire lifetime ago. The rest of the undead horde had left their bodies in pieces underneath the door, leaving but a dent in the solid stone.

Then he took over.

At first he bashed his metal hoof against the rock. He had beat it against the door until it was nothing more than a metal stump extending from his body. He ripped his metal wing from the socket, using that to chip away all he could until nothing was left but a twisted shard.

When the metal ran out, he started using his hooves.

How long ago had his voice gone? He remembered repeating names… names of ponies he knew, then one day he started to forget the names… then he started to forget words, and then eventually his voice had left him altogether.

Even his thoughts now were simple, long since devolved from words and now just a series of images flashing through his mind. One kept popping up in particular, a shining white city on the side of a mountain. It made him happy as he beat himself bloody against the stone to think of that place, but he wasn’t sure why anymore.

Then there were the images of the mares. One white and one brown. They made him happy too. Who were they? What happened to them? He just knew that they were okay, and that made him happy too.

Now his other hoof was gone too. It hadn’t lasted as long as the metal one, just chipped away against the rock in… well, he didn’t know how long it lasted. It wasn’t long. He just knew that the bone breaking and the sinew and blood leaking out wasn’t good.

Once his hooves had stopped, his head was the only tool left. He didn’t stop to think about it, he just did as he was told. This time, his body won over the stone. Finally. His head was cracking, he had already lost the sight in one of his eyes...but he only needed one to see sunlight pour through the once thick stone doors.

“Good.” That source of his orders stood by him, his two horns glowing and splitting the rocks apart easily now that the hard work had been done by the pony and the others. “Your time is up now, rest.”

The Shackled pony didn’t know why, but the thought of that made him so happy. So he did just that, he followed orders and finally rested.