Thorns of Stone

by Greenback

Rating: mature
Tags: Horror, Violence, Death, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Original Character
Length: 5212

There are some places we must never go

A decade ago, Equus suffered the most catastrophic disaster in recorded history.

This is one of the few records that was recovered.

Published 2021-10-02 02:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2021-10-11 04:59:51 UTC

Foreward

As one of the few surviving documents recovered from the aftermath of what is now called the Thorn Incident, this journal is an invaluable and priceless document that provides a rare, intimate look into the most catastrophic and horrific event in Equus' history. Some of my surviving advisors have argued that it should be destroyed, lest the information contained within fall into the hooves of those who would do us or Equus harm. I have considered their requests, but have decided not to follow their advice; what is recorded within this book must be preserved for the sake of those who will come after us. But, in order to prevent any would-be conquerors from discovering the location where this all started, I have removed specific locations, names, and certain identifiable details.

It is my greatest hope that the information within this journal survives for centuries to come. May future generations learn that, no matter how advanced our technology becomes, how many riches we enjoy, or how peaceful our world may be, there are still places we must never go.

-Princess Twilight Sparkle.

Expedition Introduction

This is the journal and personal record of Golden Scroll regarding the [REDACTED] Expedition, as per the request of Manehattan University. As is standard for all such records, I shall be updating this journal to record my findings, observations, and thoughts on this expedition for the benefit of future scholars, readers, and historians.

For the historical record, I feel it prudent to give some information about myself. I am Golden Scroll, an archaeologist from Manehattan University. At the risk of sounding boastful and self-important, I have had thirty years of experience traveling from one corner of our world to the next in search of treasures, lore, and knowledge of our past, from the well-known to the little-understood, and the complete mystery. Alas, it is nowhere near as exciting as Daring Do’s books would have you believe, for most of my time is spent carefully excavating ruins, dusting off artifacts with a toothbrush, and otherwise taking the greatest care not to damage anything.

That is not to say that all expeditions are tedious and dull. There have been a few times where I have come across a long-lost temple and become the first pony to behold a famed artifact in thousands of years. This upcoming expedition, I hope, will bear equally exciting fruit.

It is time for me to give some background to what has been called, the [REDACTED] Expedition: One year ago, the university was contacted by some fisherponies who had snagged their deep-sea gear on something and retrieved it only to find their nets and equipment torn to shreds in a manner consistent with rope cut by sharp objects. Subsequent radar scans of the area revealed an unnatural landmass deep below the surface of [REDACTED]. Due to the extreme depth of [REDACTED], even our most advanced scanners and radar are unable to reach the bottom, but initial reports suggest that the surface is too uneven to be a natural structure; as the most experienced archaeologist on staff, I was asked to lead the investigation into this phenomena.

As a personal aside, it is most gratifying to be given such a privileged position. As I enter my fifth decade, I have accumulated more years of experience and knowledge than those younger than me. But the university – ever mindful of how it presents itself – is increasingly choosing younger and more attractive archaeologists to send out into the field. Time wears down all things, and my days of rummaging around in deserts, hiking through harsh territory, and enduring long, hot days are starting to come to an end. Perhaps this expedition, if fruitful, will prove to be the capstone to close a long and fruitful career. I most certainly hope so.

Day 1

Expedition Record: Day 1

11:30 AM

I write this on the train heading out to [REDACTED]. Like all expeditions, this one had to start at an ungodly hour, requiring me to rise before Celestia’s sun and drag myself to the train station. Thank Celestia this expedition won’t require a massive supply chain, unlike previous visits to remote deserts or the frozen realms of the north. No, this time around all that is needed is basic supplies to sustain life, a few pieces of equipment, and some vehicles, all of which are already at our point of departure.

In accordance with our reduced material needs, I do not require a substantial staff investment on this expedition; my only companion is my assistant, Thunder Twirl. She’s a unicorn on the verge of finishing her studies at Manehattan, and I hope to see her walking across the graduation stage by this time next year. Hopefully by the time this journal is read, she will have set her place in history as an archaeologist of great renown, hopefully surpassing even my achievements. She certainly has the spunk and the drive for it: she never hesitates to throw herself into what needs to be done, and as I have grown older I’ve found myself relying on her to do exactly that. Not that I refuse to get my mane wet or my hooves dirty, but it’s refreshing to have such a vigorous assistant on hoof.

We should arrive at our destination by this evening. I shall write an update at day’s end.

8:00 PM

As I expected, we managed to reach our port of call by sundown. Our vessel was awaiting us, the crew having loaded up the supplies and equipment that we need. I must admit, my first impressions of the vessel were... not favorable. It is an old coast guard cutter with chipped paint, numerous spots of rust, and a strange smell in the hallways. It is as far away from a research ship as you can get, but if it floats and helps us accomplish our objectives, then aesthetics mean nothing. She is commanded by Sunrise Storm, a former Navy captain who purchased her old boat when it was decommissioned. Sunrise greeted me and Thunder when we arrived, showed us to our quarters, and then cast off shortly afterwords. She gives me the impression of being brief, punctual, to the point, and not one to waste words or time. Good; a well-ordered ship is an efficient ship, as my father used to say.

Thankfully, our submersible is the opposite of the boat: it’s a high-tech craft, the most advanced submarine in all of Equestria, able to dive down over 40,000 feet, far deeper than the depths of any of our oceans. It will be captained by an Earth pony by the name of Flawless Star. He’s a friendly fellow, but his unusually pale skin tells me he spends all his time either indoors or inside vehicles. At least he doesn’t run the risk of getting heavily-wrinkled, sun-soaked premature skin like my own.

We are currently heading to our destination, though the journey isn’t as calm as I had hoped: there’s a mild storm slowing us, with heavy rain and frequent waves battering us as we proceed. I’ve gulped down ample amounts of seasickness pills to try and calm the storm in my gut, and Thunder has already emptied her stomach several times over. With any luck this storm will abate by tomorrow; I would hate to arrive only to have to wait several days for favorable conditions before we can dive. I overheard some of the sailors muttering that this is a bad sign, doing nothing to dispel the myth of all sailors being a superstitious lot. This is just a storm, nothing more.

I will retire now, and update tomorrow when I have significant news to report.

Day 2

Expedition Record: Day 2

10:00 AM

It appears luck is on our side: the storm abated early this morning, allowing us to reach the coordinates at about 8:00. For a place that might be home to one of the most significant archaeological finds of our time, there’s nothing to distinguish it from any other stretch of ocean: endless water as far as the eye can see.

As planned, the other cutter is already here. For an expedition of such magnitude, the head of the archaeology department at Manehattan University wanted to be here to witness whatever we might find. Truth be told, I’m envious of her and her cohorts: where our boat is an old military vessel, they’ve come out on the University’s yacht. There have been some controversy regarding its use before, but it’s an older craft that the university bought for fast transport to expeditions in the field, and to that end it has been stripped of its luxury interiors. It’s still more comfortable than our accommodations, though.

Once I had contacted the University president and we both confirmed that our readings of the provided coordinates were correct, my work finally began in earnest: I instructed Flawless Star to ready his submersible and depart as soon as possible. I must say, he is rather good at his job; he told me he’s done at least a hundred of these dives, and while I was unimpressed at first, I was taken back by how quickly he and his team had had the submarine ready in less than fifteen minutes. It was bobbing in the water ten minutes later, and five minutes after that it had vanished into the depths of the sea.

The submarine has been down for about three hours now. We’ve been getting constant radio communication from Flawless Star; all systems are functioning normally, though his most recent messages have become rather garbled. The radio operator assured me it was nothing to worry about. Thunder Twirl also pointed out that because of the extreme depth, it’s difficult to get radio communications up through so many of the ocean’s layers. Smart cookie, that one; if archaeology doesn't work out for her, she’ll have a future in oceanography.

2:30 PM

Exciting news! Flawless has returned from his dive, and he reported that he has found the site where the fisherponies had their nets snagged. According to Flawless, they weren’t snagged on rocks or cut by creatures, but were torn to ribbons by a giant field of rocky spikes! How big it is, he couldn’t say, only that it was thick, dense, and unlike anything he’s ever seen! While he did take some photographs, I will be heading down there myself in the next thirty minutes: I have to see these for myself! Thank Celestia Flawless is up for a return journey on such short notice!

4:00 PM

I’m writing this update inside the submarine as it descends. I have been inside submersibles before, but never one like this: it’s well-equipped for such a deep dive, packed with all manner of tanks, canisters, and tubes that keep us alive. I only wish the passenger and seating area were a little larger, but it is a discomfort that can be endured. What is more unnerving is the complete darkness outside the viewing windows. They’re ten inches thick, and though our lights are on, there’s nothing to see outside but gunk and specks of detritus drifting through the never-ending night. If anything, this darkness will only get stronger the deeper we go. We’re halfway down to the ocean floor, and whatever awaits us on the bottom.

9:00 PM

Sweet Celestia... I had hoped that this expedition would bear fruit, but never in my wildest dreams did I imagine what we would find on the seafloor. As Flawless Star said, there is a field of spikes at the bottom of the sea floor, but I can confirm that these spikes – or more accurately, thorns – are not made by nature: they are the size of houses, sharp, and grouped tightly together like weeds that have overgrown a long-neglected garden. Rocks and other geologic structures are not formed this way, not by nature.

I was not able to tell what material the thorns were constructed from; the submarine’s drone was launched and attempted to get a sample, but was unable to chip anything off a thorn, even though the surface texture is rough, chipped, and full of nicks that can snag anything that passes through them. No wonder the fisherpony’s nets were torn apart; we even found a few pieces which we retrieved for proper disposal. (I am not going to contaminate the site with any modern objects!)

I can’t convey in words how astonishing this find is: to float above these thorns of stone in our tiny submarine was unlike anything I’ve ever done before. Even now, hours later, my mind still swarms with questions: Who made these thorns? Why are they down there on the seafloor? Are they the collapsed ruins of a temple that once stood above the sea? Was this whole area once a continent or an island that sank long ago? So many questions, but no answers, and in a way I prefer it: Whenever a new discovery is made, there is always the excitement of knowing that there are countless possible answers to our questions, and the lure of the unknown is intoxicating. Often, though, the answer we get is often so much more dreary and mundane than our wildest fantasies.

Perhaps, just this once, the answers we find will be more exciting than anything we could imagine!

Day 3 and 4

Expedition Record: Day 3

9:23 PM

While the excitement of yesterday hasn’t abated, today brought no new revelations or insights; I dispatched Flawless Star to send his submarine over the field, using radar to build a picture of how large it is, as well as attempting to get a sample of a thorn. Alas, all his efforts yield the same result as my initial dive to the site: these thorns are too durable and resistant to yield even a tablespoon of their composition to our drone.

Although progress is steady, I have no conclusions to report at this time regarding the field’s size, nor are there additional clues as to how it was made, or why. I remain convinced that the thorns are not a natural phenomena, and my colleagues on the yacht agree with me. Archives are being pursued and studied back on the mainland, but we have no record of any civilization or society living out in this area of the [REDACTED]. While it is possible that we will find an answer in some long-buried scroll in a library somewhere, I prefer to believe that we have come across the first signs of a civilization that was lost to time long ago!

On an unrelated note, Thunder Twirl and I have finally gotten our sea legs, which means we can now eat food and manage to keep it down. Captain Storm didn’t say anything as we enjoyed dinner, but I think I saw the faintest trace of a smile at the corner of her lips. I only imagine how many seasick landlubbers like ourselves she’s seen over the years.

It’s getting late; I will report back tomorrow when we have more news to share.

Expedition Record: Day 4:

8:12 AM

Flawless has just launched his submarine to complete the last sweep of the field, after which we will finally know its full size. Once that is complete, we’ll focus our efforts on obtaining a sample of a thorn so we may determine how old these thorns are. But the sweep comes first; with any luck, we will have our answers by sundown.

3:35 PM

Incredible! Absolutely incredible! Flawless Star completed his scan and surfaced shortly around noon, and I have spent the past three hours with our technicians compiling the radar scans, and now we finally know the true size of the field of thorns. According to the data, the field is at least a hundred square miles! I had expected the field to be large, but not this enormous! Furthermore, we have discovered that, while the placement of the thorns has no clear pattern, all of them are roughly the height of a three story building and approximately six feet in diameter. Once again, more evidence that these thorns are not a natural phenomena.

What excites me, though, is an irregularity in the center of the site. It is difficult to discern, but there appears to be a higher concentration of thorns there, suggesting there might be something beneath this section that warrants further study. Thankfully, Flawless Star is willing to do another dive today to investigate the section. How he can endure doing so many dives in such a tight, confined space, I cannot guess, but I will make full use of his endurance, and we will be departing shortly. However, I will not be taking this journal with me: Thunder Twirl pointed out to me that if something had happened to the submarine during my previous dive, the journal would have been lost, and she is quite right: my excitement overrode common sense, and I shall not make such a mistake again.

11:45 PM

Sweet Celestia! The dive was more successful than I could have hoped! We didn’t spend long above the irregularity, but our more detailed radar scans confirmed that there is indeed something below the thicker batch of thorns! Exactly what it is, we were not able to tell, and a warning light forced us to retreat to the surface before we could investigate further. Flawless Star is going over the sub with his staff to ensure it’s integrity, and if all goes well, we'll head right back down to the irregularity tomorrow. I have no idea what we’ll find down there, but whatever it is, it will no doubt be of monumental importance!

Day 5

Expedition Record: Day 5

7:12 AM

Despite working all night, Flawless Star and his team could not find anything wrong with the submarine. Numerous tests have been run and run again, and all the systems work fine. There’s no logical reason why the warning light came on, but it doesn’t matter; we’re going down again. We’re launching in ten minutes.

9:30 PM

By the gods… I can’t believe it.

We recovered an artifact.

When we reached the irregularity in the field of thorns, we hovered above it and used our most powerful radar to scan what was beneath; it was difficult for the radar to penetrate, but the image that came back revealed that about ten feet below the cluster was a small, hollow space, with a rectangular object standing upright in the seafloor.

With the object identified, Flawless sent the drone out to try and reach the object, a task that was much easier said than done: the thorns were interlocked so tightly that there was seemingly no way through. For almost an hour Flawless maneuvered the drone around the thorns in search of a gap, a hole, anything. until he finally managed to find the smallest of gaps. I didn’t think the drone was going to fit, but I didn’t tell him that; it was worth risking our drone if we could retrieve something, and, Flawless managed to get the drone through, retrieve the object, and squeeze both through and back to the submarine. We shot up back to the surface, got onto the boat, and took the object to the onboard lab to begin our analysis.

The object we have retrieved is a cuboid about three feet in height and five inches in diameter. It’s composition is unknown, but appears to be similar to obsidian rock (like the thorns, our attempts to chip off a piece are frustratingly futile). Despite its size, the object is surprisingly light, weighing five pounds at most, but what is most extraordinary about this object is it’s sides: carved into them are a series of pictograms depicting... beings that I have never seen in any other illustrations or drawings from throughout Equus’ history. The figures are not equine, serpentine, birdlike, or even aquatic, nor are they bipedal or quadrupeds. They are unlike anything I have ever seen before! But it’s not just the pictograms that fascinate me: there are symbols carved into the cuboid’s side as well, ones that I haven’t seen before in any language or ancient tongue!

Right now, we are speeding back towards the mainland while my peers on the yacht remain to continue studying the field of thorns. Once we arrive at [REDACTED], we will take the cuboid to Canterlot for further analysis and study. Perhaps Princess Twilight Sparkle will be able to use her alicorn magic to help us get an idea of how old it may be, and the Canterlot archives might posses something that can help us decipher the symbols. And while we may find some answers, I almost don’t want there to be any; at the risk of sounding presumptuous, we may be in possession of an object created by a species that has been lost to time!

Words cannot describe my excitement at this magnificent discovery: To hold something that may be billions of years old… It is the greatest moment of my career, and possibly my life! There are so many more tests to do, scans to be taken, and other procedures that must be carried out, but at this moment I just want to gaze upon this beautiful object and never look away. This is the sort of find that most explorers and historians dream of – myself included – but never find. But fate has decided to bless me, and given me a gift that will be studied, admired, and pondered over by all of Equus for decades, perhaps centuries to come! I could ask for no greater gift than to know that my place has been written into the history books as the pony who found the most extraordinary artifact in history!

No matter what happens in the days, weeks, and months to come, at this moment in time I am the happiest pony alive!

Day 6

Expedition Record: Day 6

10:45 AM

Our arrival at [REDACTED] has been delayed by an unusual amount of fog, forcing Captain Storm to slow down for safety reasons. Normally such a delay would make me irritated, but it gives me more time to study the cuboid. I had hoped that a good night’s sleep might give me some new insights, but, alas, none have been forthcoming. Thunder Twirl has joined me in studying the cuboid, and she has come to the same conclusions: the beings in the pictograms are unrecognizable, as are the writings carved into the stone.

However, there is one important divergence between us: While in awe of the cuboid and its historical significance, Thunder Twirl seems unnerved in its presence. She hides it well, but I still noticed and asked her what was wrong. She seemed rather embarrassed to tell me that she wasn’t sure. Something about the cuboid just felt ‘wrong’ to her. When pressed for further clarification, she had none to give. This puzzles me: Thunder Twirl is an educated mare with several degrees to her name. She has some of the best education available, and yet she is unable to articulate why this cuboid makes her feel worried. Disappointing, but puzzling as well.

2:45 PM

It turns out that Thunder Twirl’s unease is not an isolated incident. Shortly after completing the last entry, I had a hunch to ask other members of the ship’s crew about what they thought of the cuboid. I brought them into the study one at a time and asked what they thought of the object, and what the figures in the pictograms might be. All of them felt unnerved by the object, but in a way they couldn’t describe. All of them wanted to get out of the room as quickly as possible, even Sunrise Storm. Her hard, unyielding demeanor and no-nonsense attitude tells me she’s not the kind to be frightened or fazed by things that would send the rest of us into a panic, but even she was unnerved standing before our artifact. In fact, her response was the most blunt of all: she told me that this thing is, quote, ‘evil.’ When I pressed her to clarify, she refused and quickly left.

These reactions puzzle me; I have not felt any adverse emotions or effects around the cuboid, and I’ve been studying it for several hours. All the others have only been in its presence for a few minutes or, in Thunder Twirl’s case, an hour. Perhaps there’s some sort of spell cast on the cuboid? Or maybe there’s some enchantment or charm that makes everyone around it ill. But why? Could this thing be a weapon? If so, I can’t see how, save as a finely-made club, and I have no desire to hit anything with it.

I will have to keep a close eye on the cuboid and keep it locked inside the onboard safe, lest Sunrise Storm or some other superstitious pony decide to throw it into the sea. Perhaps asking Thunder Twirl to keep track of my personality wouldn’t hurt either; if there are any changes I can’t perceive, it would be helpful to have someone alert me.

5: 10 PM

We still haven’t arrived at [REDACTED]; the fog has gotten thicker, and a storm appears to be coming in as well, for the waters are starting to get choppy. Captain Sunrise Storm is not happy and is doing everything she can get us to the shore as quickly as possible, but it’s proving difficult with our electronic equipment short-circuiting at regular intervals, and it’s not just us as well; those on the yacht have radioed to say that they’ve encountered the fog as well, and they’re having even more electrical problems than we are.

As I write this, a thought occurs to me: could the cuboid be causing the electrical problems? But if so, why now instead of earlier?

8:30 PM

We’ve finally arrived at our destination. It took much longer than we had hoped, but Sunrise Storm managed to maneuver us to the docks. Judging by the sweat she had, I doubt she wants to go through something like that anytime soon.

The fog was still thick when we disembarked, though the other sailors are the ones who took all the equipment, tools, and supplies off the ship; I took the cuboid to town hall, where we have arranged accommodations and called Canterlot with news of the discovery. Two couriers are en-route and should arrive by tomorrow morning, at which point they will take the cuboid to Canterlot. Once the others on the yacht arrive, we will all depart on the next available train and hopefully reach the capital a few days later, at which point my studies of the cuboid will begin in earnest, and I will hopefully be able to unlock some of its secrets… that is, if the fog and the rain lets up. It’s been two hours since I made the call, but the fog has seemingly gotten only thicker. With any luck that won’t be a hindrance to the couriers, or to my peers on the yacht.

I have locked the cuboid inside a locker here in the hall’s storage facilities, and will be staying with it tonight. I can’t risk anything happening to it, or anyone trying to steal it from me.

Day 7

Expedition Record: Day 7

10:33 AM

The couriers have just departed with the cuboid. Though they had initially hoped to arrive at 8 this morning, the fog delayed their arrival by two hours. It’s unnerving to see my greatest discovery go with them, but I trust that the couriers know what they’re doing and that they will deliver it safely.

With the cuboid gone, all that’s left for us to do is wait for the arrival of the yacht. We haven’t heard anything from them yet, but with any luck they’ll arrive within the next hour or two; our hosts have set up monitors on the docks and shore, and the lighthouse is lit and spinning. And just to be on the safe side, one of the boats anchored just off the pier is blowing its horn every half hour for ships trying to find their way here.

12:05 PM

The yacht still hasn’t arrived. I’m starting to get nervous; it should have made it to the harbor by now.

5:00 PM

We haven’t heard or seen any sign of the yacht. Sunrise has been on the radio trying to contact it, but we’ve received no reply. A search party is being organized as I write this, but I’m not sure it can even go out: the water is still choppy, and we’re apparently due for a storm to come through tomorrow. Coupled with the fog, and even Sunrise is having second thoughts. But if the yacht is having problems, especially with their engines, they’ll be helpless and in extreme danger if they’re caught up in a storm. Nobody knows what to do.

11:15 PM

Oh Celestia... We found the yacht.

About twenty minutes after I finished my last entry, a scout ran up to town hall, yelling that he saw the yacht just off shore. We all followed him to one of the nearby beaches and found the yacht drifting towards the sand. The radio antennas and all the masts were gone, the railings were ripped away, and the yacht’s left side was caved in. We got onboard as fast as we could, but found no one. There was no blood, no body parts, no signs of what happened to them.

I wanted to send out a search party, but Sunrise said no. The fog was still too thick, and a storm is coming in. None of the boaters wanted to go out, anyway, not after seeing what happened to the yacht. I wanted to scream at them that they were all cowards... but Celestia damn it, they were right. It was too dangerous to go out.

The storm has already started up; with the rain, wind, and waves hammering the coast, everyone’s taken shelter inside their homes or in city hall. Sunrise and her crew are in here with Thunder Twirl and Flawless Star. City hall’s well built and will be able to withstand the storm, and Sunrise said that we can go out and search for survivors once the storm ends and the fog lifts. But she’s not fooling anyone; it’ll be too late by then.

I’ve been trying to sleep for the past few hours, and I can’t nod off. I just can’t get the image of the yacht out of my head... What if my peers are someone out there in the ocean, struggling to stay afloat in only their life vests while I’m here and dry and safe? And yet, what could I do? To go out in that storm would be suicide. I hate to admit it, but Sunrise Storm is right; all we can do for now is wait for the storm to die before we can do anything else. That doesn't make me feel any better, or anything less than a helpless coward who's not willing to risk his life for someone else.