In Pursuit of...

Chapter 11: The Price of Duty

Nimbus groaned underwater. Amazingly, he was still alive. A movement next to him told him that his grandfather was as well. That didn’t improve his situation, however.

Nimbus was currently pressed up against an old, wooden door, which was being forced shut by the water rushing into the hallway. Unfortunately the door opened inwards, and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t get it to budge. He realized that he had about twenty seconds left before he’d have to take a breath. When that happened, drowning would soon follow.

He looked at his grandfather. The old Pegasus seemed to be frantically pointing at him. Nimbus didn’t understand. Then he followed his grandfather’s gaze, which rested on his front leg, most specifically, his blade. Of course!

Thinking quickly, Nimbus extended the blade, and shoved it into the door , parting the old wood with ease.  A sharp

cracking and groaning came from the wood, but nothing else happened. He looked to his grandfather, who was nodding frantically, telling him to try again. Nimbus squinted his eyes and shoved the blade with all of his strength. This time, the door completely disintegrated, collapsing from the force of the water and the stress which Nimbus’s blade had caused it.

Nimbus and his grandfather fell out onto the next room’s floor gasping for breath.

“That- was not- supposed to happen,” his grandfather choked.

“No, I totally thought you’d intentionally put spiders in here,” Nimbus groaned, sarcastically.

The two were silent for a moment, as they caught their breath, then Nimbus’s grandfather began to laugh. Nimbus joined in. The feeling of being alive was amazing. Finally, when they stopped, Nimbus rolled to his feet and had a look around. The room they were in now was large, and dome-shaped. The water which had accompanied them was flowing into a grate in the center. All over the wall’s surface was a massive mural, decorated in colored tiles. Behind the grate, also in the center of the room, was a pedestal, with a silver metal dome resting on top of it, covering something. Nimbus stepped closer.

“Wait,” his grandfather said, also standing up, “we don’t know what that does. I vaguely recall this room, but I don’t know how to pass it.”

He took his place by Nimbus and looked at the silver dome. “Yes, this is definitely the key to going on, but I don’t remember-“

“Then I guess we just have to take our chances,” Nimbus said. His grandfather sighed.

“I suppose you’re right. Lift off the dome.”

Nimbus did as he was told, and removed the dome. Below it was an inscription in the pedestal:

“The key to success lies in the clutch of betrayal.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nimbus asked, confused.

Suddenly, the dome’s ceiling split into segments, and a faint, rhythmic “whooshing” noise sounded.

“What in Equestria is that?” Nimbus asked. His grandfather didn’t answer, just stared at the ceiling. Suddenly, the door, or rather hole, they’d entered through was sealed off with a massive slab of stone. Finally, his grandfather spoke.

“Pendulums…” he said.

“Pendulums?” Nimbus asked, confused.

“Yes. Sharpened pendulums. They descend slowly from the cracks in the ceiling. We don’t have much time.” He looked around at the tiled murals. “Nimbus, go find the exit. Tell me if it requires a key.”

Nimbus flew over to the opposite end of the room. Under a massive depiction of Celestia was a small, circular door. Its surface was seamless, save for one feature: a square-shaped indent about the size of the tiles used in the murals.

“I think we need to find a tile!” Nimbus called.

“Good, that’s right! Now if only I could remember which one…”

“Well,” Nimbus said, “that phrase we saw mentioned the ‘clutch of betrayal.’ It must be a puzzle.”

“Of course,” said his grandfather, “now we just need to find out which tile is in betrayal’s clutch.”

Nimbus looked around at the displays. There were figures and scenes everywhere, some of which he’d seen earlier in the labyrinth tunnels. The dome’s murals told the story of Equestria’s history, it seemed.

“Betrayal,” he thought, eyes locking on a picture of Discord. Surely Discord embodied betrayal? He flew over to the picture and plucked a tile out of the center of Discord’s right hand.

“I think I’ve got it!” he said, returning to the circular door.

“Good, then hurry! We can’t waste time!”

Nimbus’s grandfather was right. Nimbus could clearly see the pendulums’ sharp blades swinging down from the ceiling. Quickly, he put the tile in the depression and gave it a sharp turn. The door didn’t budge. Instead, the pendulums began to descend faster.

“Wrong tile!” Nimbus’s grandfather called, “what did you pick?”

Exasperated and stressed, Nimbus called back “I picked one out of the center of Discord’s claw!”

“Discord?! He has nothing to do with betrayal!”

“Well I’m sorry,” said Nimbus, “I was kind of stressed out, what with these giant death pendulums falling on us from above!”

His grandfather shook his head. “There isn’t much time. Try something else.”

“Right,” Nimbus said, nodding. “Betrayal,” he thought, “let’s see…”

His eyes wandered over the scenery, viewing ancient battles, Equestria’s foundation, the day when Nightmare Moon turned on Celestia-

“That’s it!” he said aloud. Nightmare Moon’s betrayal had to be the answer. He flew over to her depiction, grabbing a tile from her bent front leg, which seemed to clutch it. He had to duck to avoid the slicing blades now. Quickly, he grabbed the tile in his mouth and flew back to the door, inserting it and twisting the “key.” Suddenly, the blades stopped, straightened, and retracted back into the ceiling.

“And that’s that,” Nimbus said with a proud grin.

“Right,” said his grandfather, giving him a friendly punch on the shoulder, “but you almost got us killed.”

“Er, yes, well… let’s just continue on, shall we?”

The two stepped through the door and out onto a ledge over a deep chasm. The subterranean drop-off seemed to extend downwards forever. They couldn’t see the bottom.

“Wow,” said Nimbus, “that’s a big hole.”

“Yes it is,” his grandfather agreed, “and that’s how we’re going to cross it.”

He pointed to a very thin stone bridge spanning the gap, only big enough to walk in single file upon.

“Why would we do that?” Nimbus asked, opening his wings, “when we could just fly?”

“Nimbus, don’t!”

Unfortunately, it was too late. Nimbus took to the air, and instantaneously, green bolts of energy shot down from the ceiling and hit him, knocking him back onto the ledge.

“Magic,” Nimbus snorted, “I hate magic.”

The sparks weren’t done, however. They hit the walls and traveled up them, back to the ceiling- more specifically, to a large object shaped like a pinecone… “or a hive!” Nimbus suddenly realized. When the sparks hit the object, it began to glow, and shake, making a low buzzing sound. As Nimbus watched, a swarm of small, insect-like creatures poured out. He squinted, trying to make out what they were. They looked almost like Parasprites, but there was something different about these…

“Come on,” Nimbus’s grandfather said, “and no sudden movements.”

“What are those things?” Nimbus asked, following his grandfather onto the bridge and indicating the buzzing creatures.

“I don’t recall the exact name, but they’re related to Parasprites. Their kind died out on the surface a long time ago, but they still exist down here. The difference between them and their kin is that these eat meat.”

Nimbus gulped. No sudden movements, right. He’d make sure to enforce that.

The bridge seemed to stretch on forever. They were barely halfway across when Nimbus made his error of the day. It was a harmless accident, really- something beyond his control. For whatever reason, though, he slipped on a pebble while crossing. Instinctively, he stretched his wings out. Then several things happened at once.

The green bolt of magic impacted the bridge right below him. Nimbus barely had time to move out of the way. At the same time, the swarm began to gravitate towards the two Pegasi on the bridge.

Nimbus looked at his grandfather with a sheepish grin on his face. He received an unamused glare in response.

“Okay, leave this one to me!” Nimbus said. “I’m sick of playing by the rules!”

He leaped off the bridge, immediately drawing the attention of the carnivorous insects, as well as the green magic bolts away from his grandfather.

“Go!” he yelled, “get to the door!”

Nimbus swooped under the bridge, dragging the cloud of insects behind him. He heard the telltale “zap!” of magic, and jinked right, avoiding the powerful pulse. He could see his grandfather walking as quickly as he could, trying to get to the other side.

“A little faster, please!” Nimbus called, only half-jokingly.

“Patience is a virtue,” his grandfather snapped back.

Nimbus groaned and pulled a high-g stop, spreading his wings and forcing the insects to overshoot, though one managed to bite his shoulder. The magic charged and fired, impacting the group of bugs, which were now occupying the space Nimbus had just filled. Insects scattered everywhere, and Nimbus saw his chance. His grandfather had reached the other side and was beckoning him to the door. Nimbus rolled and dived, heading for the exit, followed by a magical blast and several peeved bugs. He barely made it, tucking and rolling onto the ground just as his grandfather closed the door. Instantly, there was a massive “thud!” then silence as everything went back to normal. Nimbus stood up, brushing the dust off of himself, and got a good look at their current room. It was simply-designed: two flights of stairs curving up towards another pedestal. On the pedestal was an iron stand, fashioned to look like a Griffon’s claw, and resting in the stand was the scroll.

“This is it!” Nimbus said, “we made it!”

“Yes we did,” his grandfather chuckled, “and I, for one, am positive that there are no tricks in this room.”

“Then let’s go,” said Nimbus. The two ascended the stairs, and stopped at the scroll. Nimbus stood aside as his grandfather closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the scroll. Nimbus could swear he saw a thin, white wisp of magic transfer itself from himself to the scroll.

“What are you doing?” Nimbus asked, but quickly quieted himself. This wasn’t the time for talking. Gingerly, Nimbus’s grandfather removed the scroll.

“Time to go home,” he said simply. “Nimbus, what I just did was very important, and I’ve given it centuries of thought. You see, when I was tasked with-“

He was cut off as the floor sharply rose up. They were standing on a massive pillar, positively rocketing towards the surface. Nimbus couldn’t see anything now. The walls’ fire didn’t extend to here. He could only hope they’d exit somewhere safe.

…

The last thing Rarity expected was for the giant diamond sculpture in the yard to split in half, revealing a large, unsightly, dirty pillar with two just as dirty ponies on it. She shrieked in alarm, eliciting a smile from Nimbus. He turned to his grandfather.

“This is it! Equestria can be saved now! I have to get back to the others now, there’s no time to lose!”

“Wait,” his grandfather said as Nimbus bolted off towards the ponies, most of which were still gathered at the crystal table, “there’s still something I have to-“

He stopped suddenly, and keeled over, breathing sharply. Nimbus didn’t notice however. He was completely occupied by the scroll, as were the rest of the ponies around him. Finally, Applejack happened to glance over in Nimbus’s grandfather’s direction. She gasped.

“Nimbus, come quick! Something’s wrong with your grandpa!”

Nimbus looked up from the scroll, and back at his grandfather. Dropping the scroll, he flew towards him as fast as he could. Things weren’t looking good. His grandfather was pale, and his breathing had become shallow.

“Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, fly out and get my parents!” Nimbus ordered. Neither of the two questioned him, not even Rainbow Dash. Some things one simply couldn’t bring an outside quarrel into. Nimbus looked into his grandfather’s eyes, as they strained to stay open.

“Come on,” he said, “fight it!”

Slowly, with rattling speech, his grandfather spoke. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. You see, I am no longer the guardian of the Unifier.”

“What does that mean?” Nimbus asked.

“It means that what should have happened to me centuries ago is happening now: I’m dying.”

“But who’s the new guardian of the Unifier?”

His grandfather smiled. “That will be revealed… in time.”

“But I- we didn’t even get the chance to-“

“It’s alright, Nimbus. Just remember: your friends are your most valuable assets you will ever have. Hold on to them.”

His breathing petered off, and his eyes closed for the last time. Nimbus was left, holding him. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t cry; he wasn’t capable of mourning. This entire situation had just been a massive shock to him. Slowly, finally, a single tear dropped down from his face, and splashed against his grandfather’s side. Slowly, Nimbus turned his head to the sky, teeth clenched, rage in his eyes.

“Noooo!” he yelled, launching himself from the ground at a speed he’d never achieved before. Up, up, higher he went, passing clouds with acceleration that would have shamed a Wonderbolt. Finally, as the air became thin, he stopped, and looked back; back at the ground below. His friends were down there, and what was left of his family was as well. So was the rest of Equestria. He had to come back. Slowly, he descended, back down to earth. This was all his fault, he reasoned. If he hadn't been so distracted by that scroll... that Celestia-forsaken scroll... he hung his head as his house came into view. By now, his parents had discovered what happened. Nimbus settled onto the ground, took one look at them, and walked away, retreating from the confusing nightmare that his life had suddenly become.