By all reason, I should hate the desert. It certainly hates me. Long ago this land made up its mind about life, and decided that it didn’t care much for it. The sand burns, the glare blinds, and the sun screams. When nightfall comes, the desert taunts the moon, and the moon responds with her own frozen fury. Whatever water remains turns to brittle glass, spelling doom to travellers and natives alike.
So why do I admire it so much?
Maybe it’s how the sunrise coats the dunes, turning sand into gold richer than any dragon’s hoard could hope to hold. Maybe it’s how the wind writes poems in the ripples of sand during the day, like the sea but slower, calmer. Easier to read.
Or maybe it’s because there’s just something special about loving something that wants you to hate it back. No matter how hot the sun burns or how hard the wind blows, this is my home.
And I’ve been paid good coin to help defile it. No hard feelings, right? I look back towards my charge, a short mare, strange and from a stranger land. Rather than fur, a sheen of blue crystal coats her body, a walking treasure pile in search of more, it seems. I’d never heard of a crystal pony before, but then again all the ponies from Equestria are strange to me.
She’s somehow managed to be more prepared for the journey than I am, or at least better equipped. I am no scholar, but there must be such a thing as too many pouches. She has saddlebags on her back, her flanks, and more pouches strapped to each of her legs. Water, food, tools, but most of them empty, waiting to be filled with loot. Even the thin collar on her neck bears tiny pouches. She has a pickaxe strapped to her chest. She insists it’s for prospecting, but I can see how sharp the point is. I wonder if she’s cracked other crystal ponies with it, she looks like she would shatter like glass if she cracked. Despite her provisions, she has the air of a tourist about her, not a hardened graverobber. She looks out across the sands with a gleam in her topaz eye.
I think she sees the same beauty I do.
“Hey. We moving?” I don’t have words to describe her voice. Maybe they exist. Maybe my brother knows them, but I don’t. It’s pretty though.
“Yeah, just got lost in thought.”
“S’fair, me too. I’ve never seen a desert like this before.”
I start us moving again, at a slow but steady pace.
“How much longer until we’re at the tomb? I...maybe should’ve asked that before I packed all my food.”
“If we galloped, we could make it before nightfall, but we’re not going to gallop. It’s not a good idea.” I respond. “We’ll stop at an oasis tonight, and reach the tomb by midday tomorrow at this pace.”
“Oooooh, I’ve never actually seen an oasis, y’know.”
I turn my head back at her. Both of us knew I was looking at the mark concealed beneath her saddlebags, a sandy oasis with a jewel faceted pool of water.
“Yep. Oasis on my flank, oasis in my name, and I’ve never seen one. Like I said, I’ve never been to this kind of desert. Southern Equestria has cactuses and tumbleweeds, not oases and dunes.”
I shake my head. “Strange pony from a strange land.”
She grinned. “Yep, that’s me! Born in a strange land and immediately left to find stranger ones. So now, I’m here. Name’s Sapphire Oasis, if you couldn’t tell. Why are we stopping at the oasis tonight? Couldn’t we gallop there and then rest all afternoon?”
“Nice to properly meet you Sapphire, and we could, if we wanted to break the rules of the desert. My name’s Sandstone Shine, and in the desert it is a bad idea to run. The slower we walk, the more efficient our bodies are. Or at least, my body is. I do not know what you are, but you packed water and food so I can only assume you are mortal like the rest of us. If we run, we sweat, and lose water, lots of it. If we walk too slowly, we lose more water to our bodies’ base functions than we save from exercise. So we move following the nomad’s hooftrot. Just fast enough.”
“Okay. But why not run and then rest, since we know the oasis is near?”
“Because. Running is a sign. A sign of desperation. Out of water, out of time, cast out of society. We may hear only the winds, but we are not alone here. The confident merchant walks, the prideful predator saunters, and the fearful prey runs. If we run, we mark ourselves as prey. The moment we stop to rest, something will be around to take advantage of our haste. The only time you run, is when it is so hot that no matter how much water you have, you know you will die if you do not find shade, or more water.”
She nods. I think I see it in her face. She gets it.
I think I like her.
We walk, first in silence, then with caution, and finally, with merriment. There’s so much about the land across the sea I don’t know about, and so much of this land that she wants to learn.
“So, that’s what the Crystal Empire used to be. Once it returned and King Sombra got the boot once and for all, ponies started living again. And when they do that, well...along comes me. First generation of crystal ponies born not knowing Sombra’s rule, and of course the first thing I wanted to do was explore the rest of the world. Even before I was old enough, I planned with my parents for how I was going to accomplish my dreams. Most of the new crystal ponies wanted to stay in their Empire, but I’ve always been different. Got tired of crystals all the time. There’s so much more to treasure than just amethyst and quartz. I wanted to find proper gems, and gold, and windswept peaks and sunblessed beaches. All the treasures of the world. So I left, found a place where my passions were shared, and got to work. Now I’m here on an expedition, and it feels like another adventure and I’m here for it.”
My ear flicked at a tidbit of fast talked information and resolved to ask about it later. There’s clearly a reason why she’s not mentioning who exactly she’s working for now.
“So, what about you big guy? What got you into the desert guide business? You don’t look too old yourself, have you done this route before? How much of the desert have you seen and how much of this is as new to you as it is to me?”
“My family is very poor, but very proud. We refused to resort to beggary or to banditry, so I started working young to help support the household. With the bits I earn from travellers like you, I help my brother afford his place at the academy. This tomb I am taking you to has been stolen from before, many times. Some by ponies I have guided, some by graverobbers long ago. There are still many rooms left untouched, and the journey is one of the safer ones. We are not crossing into the Redrock Desert to the south, nor encroaching on Zebra territory. I have been to both places, and both times I regret it. This desert is what I know, and I know that I know nothing, compared to the secrets it has.”
“It’s not robbing.” She has a hard look in her eye now. Could be because her eyes are made of gems, could be because I struck a nerve. “It’s recovering. Anything I take, is something a robber can’t.”
“Doesn’t sound too different.”
“It is. At home these artifacts will rest in museums or be studied in laboratories, if they’re magical. They will be respected and cared for, and allowed to live on. Their memory will continue, not waste away in some collector’s vault.”
My brow furrows. “I still don’t see how that’s different. It belongs to the dead. If the living take from it, it’s robbing. I don’t mind, they’re not my ancestors, but why not call robbing, robbing?”
“It is different!” She stamps her hoof. “Were you even listening to what I said? Graverobbers steal because they’re greedy and they don’t care at all about-”
“Get down.”
“Don’t interrupt me-”
“Get down now!” I grab her and pull us both up against the side of the dune, shaking and burrowing our way in until only our eyes and noses poked out. For a moment, silence reigned, disturbed only by the pounding of blood in my ears.
Then we both heard it. The rumble of something distant and large moving by. Getting louder.
A trumpeting call, full of panic, blares out across the dunes.
Elephants. Running. And behind them, the confident saunter of predators. We can’t see them from our side of the dune, their herd must be small.
Slowly, the thundering dies down. They’re likely heading straight to the oasis like we were. Travel plans will have to change.
“Wait longer.” I whisper. She blinks, knowing better than to nod. The elephants are gone, but the predators are not. I can only pray that our quick disguise helped mask our scent.
They march into view, a massive pride that fills the shallow valleys between the dunes. Lions. Hundreds of them. Spreading out to cover more ground. The one at the front is massive, with a dark mane and a muscled build. As it turns we see its face. It has three eyes, one extra on its forehead, and each glow like a sunset. When it walks the sand it kicks up seems to leave spiralling trails in the air. I hold my eyes shut tight, hoping that it doesn’t see us. I hope that Sapphire is doing the same.
I hope that if we’re caught, it’ll at least be over quickly.
When I finally open my eyes, the lions are gone.
“What was that?” Sapphire’s voice is half awe and half horror.
“I don’t know. Doubtless it will be a new legend before long.” I shoulder my way out of the sand dune before extending a hoof to Sapphire. “Come. We cannot risk going to the oasis while that hunt is underway, we’d get wrapped up in the middle of it.”
She takes my hoof, sliding out of the sand like glass through water. “The elephants are running, and the lions were walking. The rules of the desert, like you said.”
I nod. “The rules also say that if you’re going to a tomb, you’re a graverobber, and there are rules for graverobbers too. Stay quiet, don’t be seen, don’t get involved in hunts. Hunts are for hunters and prey. Graverobbers are scavengers, lower than prey. Justify it however you want to yourself, but follow the rules for graverobbers, because out here, that’s what we are. Both the elephants and the lions are a threat to scavengers like us.”
She takes a moment to breathe. I do too. There’s a certain kind of fear that only comes after the danger has passed, and I feel it trying to rattle my limbs and turn my heart. I’m sure my brother knows the word for it.
“The elephants...are they going to be okay?”
“I don’t know. They might be safe at the watering hole, they might not. I don’t know what that monster leading the lions was or what it can do. Maybe they’ll attack, maybe they’ll pick off a young or sick one, or maybe they’ll hold back and just share the watering hole.”
“Do the elephants, y’know...think? Like us?”
“Not these ones, I hope. I can’t tell for sure unless I see them. Some species are like goats and sheep, others are wise merchants and strong labourers.”
“So, too risky to try to help them then? I know, I know, rules of the desert. We’re not set up to be monster hunters.”
“And even if we were, it’s best to wait until after a bounty has been posted. Heroism that goes unpaid is equal parts noble and foolish. Come, we should pick up the pace. Let us try to avoid becoming prey.”
She nods. She understands. She takes a step to follow me and-
CRACK!
She doubles over in pain, stumbling as her ankle twists on a patch of disturbed sand. There’s a gleaming hairline crack visible. I rush to cover her mouth, but she’s already gritted her teeth. She knows that a scream here means our death.
There’s a shuddering inhale, and a small groan. I can’t tell how bad it is, I don’t know how her body works, but it can’t be good, and I can’t imagine it feels pleasant. I help her up and place her on my back.
“We’re going. Now. Move as little as possible. Do you bleed?”
She groans again. “We do, but not from this. Buck me for being clumsy.”
I start walking, slower than I would like. One has to be gentle when carrying wounded.
“Thanks...I’ll be able to walk but, this is a good idea. For now. How long can you carry me?”
She was heavier than she looked, but still lighter than a normal stallion. “Long enough. Until we’re out of their hearing, at least.”
She nods again, and we walk in silence.
As the sun begins to set I let her off my back. I’m worried for her, but she shrugs me off and limps beside me as we crest another dune. “I’ll be alright, it didn’t crack all the way through. Still, taking the weight off of it helped it heal.”
“If there’s nopony there, we can rest another day at the tomb when we get there. The question is food. I always pack spares, but that’s at least two days extra for there and back. Will you have enough?”
“Don’t worry too much about me, okay Sandstone? Please. I just got unlucky with my hoof, I’m tougher than this.”
“Alright. Are you good to walk another hour on that hoof?”
She tested it, letting it rest on the ground before pulling it back up with a hiss. “I can limp. Camping late?”
“The night is dark and cold. Best to walk as long as we can during the evening. Another rule of the desert. We could keep walking during the night, but we’ve already travelled all day.”
She nods.
We walk.
And the sun sets.
As the moon rises, we break camp. No campfire for us, it’s not safe out here and we can’t risk attracting attention. The strange horde of lions weighs heavy on my mind, foul sorcery must’ve been ahoof. And besides, I had packed kindling and starters, not lumber. Already the vegetation is thinning as we approach the center of the desert, and we were hoping to stop at the lush oasis where dried grasses and burning bushes are aplenty.
As we unpack, we have time to get to know each other a bit more.
“Can you tell me more about your family?”
And, apparently, she had a whole well of questions yet unasked.
“Well, I already told you about my brother, yes?”
“Only that he’s a student, and your family helps pay his tuition.”
I nod. “We have to, he’s our big chance. He does well, but he knows as well as we do that the academy is the only place for him. He’s not like me. He’s…”
“Smaller?” She offers the word like it’s a mercy.
“Weak. Thin. Brittle. Scared of his own shadow at sundown. And yet, brilliant. His mind shines like a diamond in the sun, and he knows we’re depending on him to succeed. He will. We will.”
Sometime during the conversation my gaze had fallen to the ground. I look back up and see her looking at me. Curious, reserved, perhaps even a bit disgusted. I understand. Her world is different. Her crystal skin may be hard but her heart is soft. Best change the subject.
“Want to hear about our parents?”
She nods, glancing away to unpack some food. Dates and cheese. I take a breath, and start talking again.
“My mother...she works more now than she used to. She buys and she sells and she sells and she buys and slowly but surely she earns a few coins of her own. Our house is filled with her excess stock, secondhoof books, almost perfect pottery, cloth and paper and skins. Buying and selling, selling and buying, it’s so much more work than actually making.”
“But, what is she like as a pony?”
I shrug. “Busy. Money focused. Short like my brother, but wiry. When she is kind, it’s to motivate us to work harder, or to charm a customer.”
“Do you like her?”
I think for a bit, hoof to my chin.
“No.”
The silence returns. I leave her to her thoughts and her food as I move to the other side of the dune. Keeping watch. That’s what I’m doing.
Neither of us feel like talking anymore, and we eat our rations in cold silence, facing away from each other and contemplating the day, and conversation, that had passed. I wonder if she still sees the beauty in the desert I do after tasting its bite. The love I have for this hateful place is hard to replicate. Even the other guides I’ve crossed paths with have given into hate, hating this land that hates them back. At best, they’re rivals.
Crunch.
I hear something walking behind me in the sand. I whirl around, scanning for threats. Sapphire has her head down in the sand, her body limp. I sprint over to her, mind whirling with scenarios and possibilities. A snake perhaps? Or something larger that somehow snuck up on us undetected, perhaps something I can’t see.
Sapphire raises her head, sand encrusted around her mouth and a cerise blush on her face.
“What...are you doing?”
“Uh…” gulp “It’s a crystal pony thing?” She grins at me, licking sand off of her lips and swallowing it.
I sit down in front of her. “Explain.”
“Well, we’re made of crystal, yeah? Sand is mostly dirty quartz.” She holds up her damaged hoof. Already, the crack seemed fainter. “I’m just doing some repairs.”
“You...eat sand.”
She nods. I think she doesn’t want me to think that she’s weird. Why else would she have been hiding this? Unless...
“All crystal ponies eat sand? I thought you said your home was in a cold place without deserts.”
“Uh huh. But sand is still crystal and we have a lot of crystal. Rock crystals, candy crystals, crystal corn on the cob…” She’s rambling now, if I didn’t know better I would think she was trying to fast talk me. “Hey! You said you were going to tell me about your parents. What about your dad?”
“My father...he is like me. Or rather, I am like him. I had to be. I follow in his hoofsteps. He was injured, long ago. I had to learn quick, leave school, to pick up where he had to let go. Eventually, he recovered. He walks the dunes ever still, but ponies pay less for a guide with a limp.” My voice is tinged with steel malice now. “My brother is brilliant because he has been polished. Because of my father’s carelessness, I never got that chance. You cannot polish a gem with sand. The only shine I have now is in my name.”
Perhaps the reason I love the desert is because I don’t have anything else to love anymore. Least of all myself.
The silence reigns once more, broken only by her quiet “I’m sorry.” It doesn’t matter. I’m already back at my spot, laid down and facing away.
Slowly, once I feel she’s looked away, I lower my head into the sand and take a gulp.
Memories and sensations flood into my mind. I can taste the faint humidity pointing me back to the oasis. I can taste the elephants, they made it there safely. I can taste the lions. I don’t taste blood. I taste the further, harder crystals of Nomad’s Land, our prized destination. We’re closer than I expected after having to carry Sapphire so far.
I taste the desert’s hate. It’s hate is concentrated to the north, too far for any storms to hit us here. Bandits used to roam there, but I don’t taste their bloody industry. Things have been changing in the desert.
I sigh and raise my head. When I saw Sapphire eating the sand, I had dared hope. For a moment, I had dared to hope that there was somepony else out there like me, a true child of the desert. Somepony who could explain exactly what and why I was what I was. Instead she’s just an alien pony from an alien city on an alien continent. They all eat sand there, and it means as little as just food to them.
And I thought I could relate to her. Stupid stupid stallion.
I turn over and let sleep overtake me. Mercifully, my dreams are empty sandstorms. I do not think I could take any images conjured from the depths of my heart.
I can never be with her. She’s just a customer.
And I’m just a guide.
The night is cold, and I am alone.
The sand is more yellow now, more even. Brighter, purer. Uncontaminated by time despite its vast and unknowable age. The dunes recess here, the sand low and level and old.
We walk, side by side. We have had only water, we’ll break our fast when we reach the tomb. Assuming, of course, that there’s nopony else there.
“What do you think we’ll be able to recover?”
“We’ll be able to steal from whatever rooms we can break into. You sparkle like a spell midcast in the sun, I’m sure you’re magical enough to dispel the curses.” I wink at her, hoping that my joke defuses some of the tension from last night. Instead, she blushes. Of course. I should’ve expected that complimenting a crystal pony’s luster was a flirtatious faux pas. Or something else even worse.
Despite her shining blue skin, her cheeks blush pink, like rosy quartz. I didn’t notice that last night, too focused on the sand and what it could have meant, before the disappointment.
“I-I’m no wizard, but I’ll see what I can do. Maybe we’ll find a door that’s just locked? If that’s the case, I can crack it open lickity-split with this.” She lets the pickaxe on her chest harness sway. Its point glints, and I know her words are true. That point still scares me. “So, whose tomb is this?”
“No clue. I can’t read the language, and anypony that can, doesn’t care to visit it. There’s more impressive structures, still untouched, deeper inland. Of course, you need a whole team to get there. We’ve crossed the border into the Nomad’s Land, and water is scarce here.”
She nods. “I’ve noticed. It’s not any hotter, not yet at least, but it’s drier. Something about the sand, it feels…”
“Old?”
“Old. Like the land is dead and wants to stay that way, undisturbed.” She shivers. “ Once we recover what artifacts we can, let’s leave quickly. Not prey quickly, but quickly. The land here doesn’t like me. I preferred the real desert. This isn’t a desert, this is just sand.”
“I prefer Saddle Arabia too. This is still beautiful though, in its own way.”
“I’ve seen skeletons. They were beautiful too, in their own way. But it is a beauty best not experienced for long.”
Some time ago, we’d increased our pace. With the air calm, the sand featureless, and the sky empty, both of us could not disagree, Nomad’s Land gave us the creeps.
After two hours of walking in the rising desert sun and silence, I was almost hoping for an ambush. Anything to break the monotony. Instead, we saw the tip of the tomb’s pyramid crest the horizon.
It was stumpy, as far as pyramids go. A square base, not flush with the sand but a half hoof above it. By design or by desert erosion I know not. The stone is yellow and pitted, streaks of pale and dun interspersed with crumbling sand scars. Here and there a brick is missing, or broken. We approach from the side, a slanted wall leading up to a missing capstone.
“There used to be gold on top, didn’t there?”
“Yes. The easiest treasures are taken first. Most thieves go in the tomb entrance. The one to the right of us.”
“What’s on the left?” She takes a swig from her canteen. The crack on her hoof is gone now, healed overnight.
“The temple entrance. This is more than just a tomb.”
I swear, I see her eyes glow at the thought of it.
“Temple...Why didn’t you tell me!? We’re going in, right now. That’s where the stuff we’re looking for is. Oh, the family is going to be so proud of me.”
Questions swirl in my head, but I press on. It is not for me to wonder why, it is my place to get paid and not die.
We walk to the temple entrance, up shallow stairs between large pillars. There is a small landing just outside the pyramid itself, a stone awning blocking the worst of the sun. There is no door, the temple’s maw dares us to enter its long dark tunnel. Sapphire is leading now, walking differently. Before we were travellers, now we are proper tomb raiders.
“Omigosh, this place is so old! Some of these rooms are still sealed. We’re gunna find something special, I just know it. I can feel it.” There were rooms, several of them. The first were broken off at the hinges and laid in rubble at our hooves. Empty, with little hints as to what originally occupied them. Sand was now interspersed with dust.
We split up, looking. I’ve been here before of course, but it never hurts to double check. When she’s too far to see, I take a taste of the sand and let the memories wash over me, looking for something new. Age, ruin, flashes of light I can’t understand. A sensation of drudgery, and paperwork. Same as last time. An eddy in the wind at the end of the vision catches my mind’s eye, like an insect flitting across a projector’s beam.
Somepony, or something, had walked by since I had last been here. I return to the central hallway, watching Sapphire over her shoulder. She’s bending down to examine, I don’t know. Something. That’s the room that had the broken pottery in it last time. Her butt is raised in the air, sparkling. I wonder if the saddlebags draped across her flanks are to conceal her true width, something I only now saw from this angle.
“Hmm...some sort of funeral urn perhaps? Why in this room then? Maybe they were made here, on this side of the temple?”
I glance away, looking down the hallway to the one door that’s truly closed.
Wait.
“Sapphire? Sapphire I think I see something.”
I tap her with a hoof and beckon her onwards.
“Look. See that, in front of the door?”
“Hoofprints...but the door is closed, and there’s none leading out.”
I nod. “Somepony might still be inside. Maybe alive, maybe not.”
“What’s behind that door?” She asks.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been able to open it. It’s practically a brick wall if it weren’t for the decorations.”
“Whatever’s defended, is valuable. Can you give me and this door a bit of alone time? Finish checking the other rooms?”
“Why?” I joke. ”Got a secret door-opening technique you can’t show to outsiders?”
“Yes.” She responds flatly. “It’s called hitting it really, really hard, and sandstone shards are going to hurt you a lot more then they’ll hurt me. So, back off for a bit, alright?”
I snort, but comply. I can tell she’s hiding something. I go to one of the rooms that have only rubble to their name and sample the sand, using my enforced privacy to use some hidden techniques of my own. The sand in Nomad’s Land has a certain magic to it, something filtered down from the long lost heart of this land, and I suck it up greedily. I feel filled and reinvigorated, a kiss of death to strengthen me in life. This place is ruined and dead, and strength seeps into my legs to create ruins of my own. I toy with a sandstone brick, slowly squeezing it until it crumbles into dust. In the hallway, I hear the tinkling of Sapphire Oasis’s crystal hooves as she fiddles with something , before violent peals ring out as her pickaxe is brought to bear. After only two strikes, I hear a rumble and a crash of masonry meeting its end.
“Door’s open! Oh...Sombra’s disgrace, Sandstone, there’s a dead body up ahead.”
I’m already there, running to her side. Ahead past the rubble of the once stalwart door, a corpse is curled up against a strange panel of flooring. It’s white robes appear torn to ribbons and stained with blood.
“Looks like a trap. Shall I go first, Miss?”
She shakes her head. “Together. We’re a team.” She twirls her pickaxe and slips it back into its strap, keeping her body ready to draw it again if need be.
Suddenly, there’s a scraping noise behind us. Some ancient trap trying to trap us in here, stone hinges flapping uselessly, believing that they were still shutting a great door behind us and not disturbing a pile of dust and rubble. Ahead, a rhythm of stuttering movement sounds out as the traps that spelled the previous graverobber’s doom whirl to life once more.
The floor panel flips over, revealing a column of gore rusted spikes. It flips again, a flat panel of wood.
Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack!
Over and over it spun, each time tearing a few threads from the turban of the graverobber who had died trying to brave it. Beyond it, vertical columns sprouted from the walls and moved back and forth along tracks hidden in the ground, covered in spinning scimitars.
Fwip fwip fwip fwip fwip!
The blades sliced through the air around them, still clean. Behind them, was a door with no handle and a strange carving in the wall next to it.
“Okay. Together. Shall we jump?”
“Are you crazy?! Even if we can make it, we have no idea what other magics may be at play here. This could be just defences yes, but this could also be a trial. And with no knowledge of what this temple actually was, we don’t know what lessons these traps might be designed to test.” She protested. “Look at the floor one. It could be a test of patience and we’re meant to just walk when the flat side is up, and if we jump we smack face first into a forcefield and fall to our deaths. Or it might be that these are all pure deterrents and the priests either knew a passcode to disable these traps or had tunnels to go around them. And furthermore, even if we do make it, there’s no guarantee we’ll make the jump on the way back. What if we’re successful and we come out laden with artifacts to recover? Do you want to make that jump then?”
“No. No I don’t, not with a pack full of treasure. So, what’s the plan? Got a secret tool in one of those pouches, or are you going to hit it with your pick?”
“...Shit, you’re right. I do have a vial for this. Hate to waste it but…” She walks to the trap and uncorks a stoppered bottle that was around her neck, pouring a heavy white dust onto where the panel met the wall. “I know we didn’t stop at the oasis, but you wouldn’t happen to have a spare canteen of water, would you?”
Wordlessly, I open one of my waterskins. I don’t have spares, but I can survive it, and I am curious of what magics she deigns to use.
“Okay, now pour it onto the connection point and let it soak in.”
I do so, watching my water be eaten by the blades. “What’s it going to do?”
She turns for the ruined door. “It’s going to turn into glue once it rehydrates, and hopefully break some gears. Let’s give it some space in case something pops loose. Oh also, I have never used this stuff before and have no idea how quickly it dries so let us please run for cover now please that means now Sandstone.”
Before I knew it, she had grabbed me by the saddlebags and ran with me back to the entrance, as we hear the telltale sounds of stressed metal begin to creak from the slowing trap.
Clack...clack...crrk...PING!
Something deep inside the mechanism shattered, and the panel spun for a final time before returning to rest, spikes returned to the sands.
We both let out a sigh of relief. “It worked.”
“Aye, and didn’t kill us too. You’ve got more tricks than the average graverobber, I’ll give you that.”
“You’ve guided your fair share of graverobbers too. What tricks have you picked up? Specifically, for the spinning death trap past this one. That was my only bottle of sovereign glue and those things are spinning too fast for me to trust my pick.”
I look to the traps ahead, analysing them. They moved back and forth at a regular interval, but with the length of their blades nearly overlapping there doesn’t seem to be a safe moment to roll between them. Even so, how could I disable the trap from the other side if I couldn’t from this side? They’re rotating cylinders, and I can see the tracks they ride on from here. Going through first wouldn’t be any help. Could I block their track with a rock perhaps? Sending them off their axle like the floor panel seems too dangerous, it would spin around the room like a deadly top.
I step forwards, lowering my head as I did so. As I approach I lick some sand off of the ground without Sapphire noticing. It’s a brief taste, but enough. I see the traps speed back and forth, a blur across time from when they were last activated. I see their patterns. I see a mistake in their design. They’re powered from above, the bottom is only an anchor point. Their sides are made of soft wood with sharp steel blades. That wood will be their undoing.
Fwip fwip fwip fwip fwip!
Wait for it…
Fwip fwip fwip fwip fwi-CRACK!
I kick low at the perfect time, dislodging the shaft from its base. It whirls and spins, just right for its blades to get caught in the wood of the other pole. I jump back as the mechanism jams and grinds.
“What did you do?”
Rumble... CRASH! Something above us breaks, the echoes of ruin sounding through the thick stonework.
“I broke it, in a way that did not break us.”
“And you didn’t get hurt? It’s covered in swords!”
“I’m fine. Can we please move on? There’s a door up ahead, waiting for your pickaxe.”
She looks at me with suspicion, but complies. The door ahead has no handle, only a whisper of a crack to suggest that there’s a door at all. Next to it is a curious carving, reminiscent of a picture frame around a blank rectangle with beveled edges. Words and symbols decorate the frame in swirling patterns.
“Is it magical?” I ask.
“Give me a moment, I’m reading.” She moves closer, eyes narrowed in concentration. “Sacred...restricted to the pure and perfect...Oh this next part is runic magic. Hmmm...Champions of Strength from Sand alone may guard our Lord’s treasures...oh no.”
“You can read that!? The- this temple is thousands of years old.” I’m flabbergasted. Never in my life have I known a pony to even care about the ancient scribbles that adorn the countless relics and ruins that have left Nomad’s Land. It was common knowledge that the mysteries of the old languages were lost to time. If some scholars knew the language, they did not share the secret.
“Mhm. Knowing ancient equestrian makes learning the sandspeech easier. I studied up on the boat ride across the sea.” She says, trying to move on. “It looks like it’s trapped, and it only lets the “Champions of Strength from Sand” in. Is that the god this temple is dedicated to?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. Does it matter? All that stuff is in the past.”
She raises her hoof and touches it to the center of the seal. With a flash of golden magic, the door rumbles open.
“Not...quite.” She wipes sweat from her brow as I pick my jaw off the floor.
I poke my head through the door. Another hallway, with another magic seal at the end. Along the way long decayed sconces flare back to life with magical light, sputtering and dim. Golden sand seeps from between cracks in the stonework. I stare back at Sapphire. “We’re safe. Now, explain.”
She sits down, looking nervous. “Okay, so...I don’t really know how to do this. It’s a bit of a modern secret, and it’s normally somepony else, somepony better than me at this who handles the talking. I’ve never done the explaining before.”
“Tell me. I can handle the truth, I don’t need a diplomat to honey the words.”
A deep breath. A flash of fear in her eyes, before resolve takes root. “The old gods, the myths, that was all real. This temple is proof of that. Those seals by the doors-”
“Do what, exactly?”
“What they say they do. They’re locks that can only be opened by creatures infused with the essence of the god of this temple, which I just so happen to be. I lied about it being a crystal pony thing, the eating sand. That’s my infusion. It heals and strengthens me. Strength from Sand.”
She looks at me, her big yellow eyes full of fear and hope and a suggestion of tears.
“Please don’t be mad at me. I’m doing my best but I was sent out alone, the family, they didn’t see this excursion as a priority. The family’s all the infused of Equestria together for their own safety, trying to learn all it can about the old times. There’s more important stuff out there but...I couldn’t let the sands go. I wanted to see a desert, a real one. With an oasis.”
I think, trying to choose my next words carefully, and decide to not speak at all. Instead, I put my hooves around her in a hug. I never realized just how young and alone she was. She leans in, letting out a little sniffle.
“Thank you...Sandstone, can I ask you a favour, please?”
“Anything.”
“Can we go to the oasis on the way back?”
“Of course. But first, the temple, yes?”
“Yes. Let’s get the artifacts and get out. I want to see the oasis.”
We both stand and walk side by side. She examines the alcoves in the walls, and I have eyes on the seal at the end as the gears turn in my head. The sand eating, the connection to the desert, the unknown and unknowable magic...by the time we reach it, I had made up my mind. If I was going to find the truth, I must face it. She raises her hoof to touch the seal, but I beat her to it, hoof pressed against the warm yellow stone. Puzzlement in her eyebrows, before a sparkle of gold and a rumble in the door.
“Now we both know what we are.”
“What!? How did you-”
“I had some suspicions. I tried asking questions. There were never answers for what I was, why I was different. So, unless the magic has degraded and the seal is letting anypony in...I’m part of your family now, yes? All the infused across Equestria you said.”
Whatever she was about to say is interrupted by a flow of golden sand leaking like mist out from the crack in the temple doors. It keeps flowing, billowing outwards and upwards.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know! I didn’t have time to read the seal!”
The sand coalesces to form something massive that is not sand, but fur, claws, and fang. Great paws splay and scratch as golden jewelry glints in the magical torchlight, and cat eyes shine with golden malevolence. Wings like that of a honey buzzard block the door behind the creature, and its lionlike tail swishes to and fro.
“BEGONE! YOU ARE UNWORTHY.”
“Why? We are the champions of Strength from Sand, the very last alive.”
“You can understand it!? How? WHY?!” Sapphire shouts in disbelief.
“You can’t? It’s speaking the merchant’s slang. We use it to talk without tourists understanding us.”
“It’s sandspeech, ancient sandspeech! I can only read it.”
“YOU BEAR THE MARK OF THE DIVINE, I SEE THAT NOW. BUT YOU ARE NO CHAMPIONS. YOU ARE GRAVEROBBERS, AND YOU STOLE THAT POWER AS WELL. IT IS NOT, AND WILL NEVER BE, YOUR BIRTHRIGHT. I WILL MAKE SURE OF IT.”
The sphinx pounces, moving like a crashing wave of sand. I see the room spin as I am flung far off the ground. Sapphire has her pickaxe out, I can see that. I can also see the floor ready to greet my skull.
Crack!
Luckily, my head was harder than the stone. At least, that stone. I groan and sit up, rubbing the sore spot. My hoof is slick and wet, but my head still feels to be in one piece. I raise my gaze back to the fight just in time to hear Sapphire scream.
The sphinx has its claws in her, and as it drags them down her back I hear a shrill crystal ringing that threatens to burst my ears. The sphinx doesn’t like it either. Sapphire twists her neck, and her pick swings in a perfect arc straight for the sphinx’s chest.
Thunk.
Drip drip.
The sphinx laughs. A gulping, mewling, wet laugh as its body returns to floating sand. A surge across the room, and it has reformed, the wound on its chest was never there. Only a grain of sand stuck to Sapphire’s pickaxe is proof it ever happened.
The sphinx laughs again, this time with sneering pride.
“I AM IT THAT WEATHERS ALL STORMS! NO WOUND LASTS LONG, NO HARM TAKES ROOT. I ENDURE AS THE DESERT ENDURES. YOU FALSE GODLINGS ARE NOTHING COMPARED TO A DIVINE CREATION SUCH AS I!”
“What the fuck did it say?” Sapphire is panting now, rattled. The white scratches on her back may be bad or may not be, I can’t tell. They aren’t bleeding.
“It’s boasting! It’ll heal through anything we throw at it once it turns back into sand like that.”
“Fuck!”
“We probably are.” I stand, shaking sand from my mane and wiping blood from my brow. One attack and it had laid us both low. One attack had done nothing to it.
New plan needed. Could we hurt it as it flows around as sand? Stop the transformation? Drive it away from the temple? We need information.
It roars like a lion possessed.
We have no time to get that information.
“Duck!”
I take heed of the warning and dive forwards, letting the sphinx sail over me. A kick with my rear hooves makes it yowl with indignity, before it turns and swipes at my face with a paw. A quick step back saves me from death.
With a grunt, Sapphire rushes it with the pickaxe again, and this time it predicts her. That deadly point pierces nothing but floating sand. Now it is in front of the door again, and we are together. It looks no worse for wear.
“There has to be a way to stop it, somehow.” I don’t feel as confident as I sound. “Maybe it has a weak point. Its underbelly?”
Sapphire nods, bracing herself for the next pounce. I understand what she wants to do. I step forwards, giving the sphinx an opening to pounce, before rolling to the side. Sapphire’s pick rips through its underside like a knife spilling a bag of rice open. It growls, irritated at having to reform again. As the sand on the floor twitched, an idea pops into my head. Scrambling, I open my mouth and gulp down a mouthful before it can return.
My mind burns with memories.
Images.
Feelings.
Magic.
In an instant it clears, my eyes unswirling as a new idea springs to mind. I know the beast’s body, how it moves and flows, how it feels.
How the transformation into sand starts at the paws and travels upwards until it reaches the head. How the sphinx cheats death by reforming before it really dies.
The neck. Rule of the desert, everything with a neck has a weak point. Sand construct or not, it follows this rule too.
“YOUR COWARDICE BEGINS TO TIRE ME. DIE AND RETURN ALL THAT YOU HAVE STOLEN TO THE SANDS. RETURN YOUR DIVINITY TO ME.”
I feel its memories, the battles its fought in, the injuries it has survived. Stuck with so many arrows that the sand leaked out and it had to run. Losing a wing, a leg. Both repaired in time, new sand added to the frame. But not instantly.
And never the head.
“I’ve got a plan! We need to stop the transformation from reaching its head.”
“How? Cut it off?” Sapphire was focused on dodging the beast’s claws, backpedaling down the hallway. Part of the sphinx’s jewelry was an ornate gorget, the closest thing it had to armour. Neck and throat protected from cuts.
“If we can. But breaking the neck might be enough.” I was behind the sphinx now, its attention all on Sapphire. If I could just time it right…
It pounces for Sapphire, and I hear her scream. No more time. I jump and land on its back, hooves around its neck. The sphinx can’t shake me off, wings pummeling me and body heaving side to side. I punch, headbutt, bite. Anything to break its hold on her. It howls with pain, and I hear its paws shift into sand to escape.
I raise my hooves to where the skull meets the neck and twist.
CRACK!
I fall to the ground in a pile of sand, holding a head with dead eyes and a lolling tongue. Sapphire’s next to me, half buried in sand and with new bite marks on her chest. Her ropes and belts are slashed, but she’s breathing. She’s okay. I’m okay.
We did it.
I sit, just breathing. Letting the fear and fight drain from my limbs in the ecstasy of survival. Sapphire curls up next to me, shaking and gasping and winding down. Her scratches don’t look as bad as the cracked hoof did.
“We won.”
“We did. You going to be okay?”
“I’m in better shape than you are Sandstone. You’re the one bleeding. Were you a unicorn, you would never cast a spell again after being thrown like that.”
“But I’m not, and you’re not either. We’re something tougher than that, aren’t we? Infused…”
She laughs, a short, bittersweet bark of a laugh. “We’re still mortal. Some infused learn that too late.”
I let out a deep breath. “Point taken. Shall we make like mortals then, and see the fruits of our greed? The sphinx must’ve been guarding treasure.” I point to the almost closed door, the thin sliver of shadow taunting us with what could be within.
“Yes. Nopony else has made it this far before. C’mon. Artifacts, history, treasure. If we are graverobbers after all, let’s enjoy it.” She reaches out a hoof to help me up. After wiping blood out of my eye, I take it and pull myself to my hooves, before reaching for the door and pulling it open. It grinds with the dust of ages against the rough stone, and light shines on treasures unseen since before the princesses.
Sand. Flowing dunes of sparkling sand, filled with carved idols, art pieces, and jewelry all half buried. Sapphire gasps and darts forwards, marvelling at the craftsmanship, the age, the implications of this carving or that statue. Her words and squeals fade as I lower my head to taste the sand, eager to feel the rush of ancient memories. I lick, then chew.
Nothing. The grains in my mouth crush and squish in a most unexpected manner, before shock rips through my being and my gasp startles Sapphire.
“It’s not sand! It’s gold dust!” I can’t contain my excitement. Even with the narrow walls of the chamber, the gold alone is worth more than I could ever imagine spending.
“Sapphire.”
“Yes?”
“Can I have some? For my family. It’s no artifact, its just money. With this, my brother can stay in school, my parents can retire…and I can go to Equestria with you. Join your family of infused. Please?”
She tackles me in a tight tight hug, tears welling in her eyes.
“Yes. Yesyesyes you can. I would love that.”
All the hate in the desert could not quash the love I felt in that moment, and ever since then, I only loved that which loved me back. My crowning gemstone. My sapphire in the rough. My oasis.
fin
