Many Million Moons Ago

by The Real Darkness

Rating: teen
Tags: Drama, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Adventure, Violence, Death, Alternate Universe, Human
Length: 11587

Cursed to be a secret kept by those who have been there, the Deep Lock threatens Equestria millions of moons later.

Thousands of moons ago, Nightmare Moon attempted to overthrow her sister. Even more moons prior to that, Starswirl banished the Shadow Pony. Even more moons ago prior to that, Skyros existed.

But millions of moons ago? There was a dynasty that spanned the entire continent of Equestria. One that can be found deep deep underground, past slate after slate of compressed rock. Almost every cave in the modern Equestria won't reach far enough down for a pony to explore it.

And some human ended up there in the land preserved by a spell, buried by a spell, and kept still by a spell.

Almost still.

Tags updated as it goes along.

Published 2024-01-28 21:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2024-02-12 19:27:43 UTC

Incessant Notes

Far below Equestria, under artificially created soil that was long since compounded into rock, laid a giant and expansive kingdom. It came before Equestria, before Unicornia, Pegasopolis, and Earth were established, before Grogar Arrived or the Alicorn sisters were born. This kingdom existed when weather, wilds, and magic had yet to be tamed properly. It was the time of forgotten legends and knowledges.

Very few creatures above ground were even aware it existed, not that they could talk with just anyone about it. They named it the Deep Lock. Those who ever stumbled upon it would find it locked in time. Those same who returned to speak about it found their mouths locked shut, their tongues unmovable. Persistent still, if they tried to lead some to where they found it, they’d find they could not move closer to it, only away until the intent and thought vanished from their mind.

They could talk about it freely with others and some spent their entire lives finding another to talk to about it and always asked the same question:

”Were you ever Deep Locked?”

That was the only way they could get their mouths to speak about it to something or someone that may not know. Eventually, a small society was made of these affected beings. They all tried to return to the kingdom that laid below, whether alone or as a group, but every entrance they used as an exit was sealed and no amount of force or magic would pry it back open.

He couldn't remember how he woke up here, in this bed that was far bigger than his. It was comfortable and he'd probably still be asleep if that low hum didn't vibrate off every wall. He thought he knew everything there was about sleep and dreams, it was his favorite activity after all.

Nobody ever said you could wake up some place you didn't go to bed at.

No, he wasn't drinking, he swore off alcohol a long time ago when it failed to really help him outrun his depression. He definitely didn't get kidnapped, at least he didn't think so.

The sweats and shirt he fell asleep in while lounging around were still on him, so was his smartphone. If he was taken against his will, they would have surely stripped him of communica-.

Oh, no signal.

But at least he had games to play on it, stupid time wasters, text adventure stories with their code spliced with a sliver of Oregon Trail. He wouldn't be able to play the ones requiring connection, but he could definitely screw around on Halls of AI.

Though if he would listen to that little voice of adventure, the dungeon was already generated in front of him, all around him, and he stood in it with his sneakers not kicking up a single tuft of dust. Maybe this was a dream.

Or something like a dream, the food felt real, so did the bed. The brain is a great illusionist though. The apples on the nightstand tasted pretty sweet and juiced his whole chin. Real? Maybe not, nothing this good could be made unless he was at a private farm.

So he lounged around longer, plopped on the bed, sleeping and not sleeping. Tapping away on his phone and staring up at the stone ceiling.

If the time was accurate on his phone, that was sixteen hours. Sixteen hours spent in the same dream didn't seem right.

Sixteen hours of that same hum didn't leave his sanity intact either.

He ripped the door open himself, poking out of the room to find a giant hall stretching in one way. The other was a window that had a lovely view of rock. Stained glass meant this could be some kind of church or maybe a European abbey he read about since it has a bedroom and was built out of stone.

The floor contained a rug interwoven of red, white, and yellow fibers. It frilled with white tassels and ran along the entire hall. This was something his mind could definitely come up with.

His head snapped the other direction hard while his slap reverberated through the hall. His cheek stung and it reddened, but now he knew this wasn't a dream. Did someone put him here as a social experiment? Did that someone also play too many RPGs?

He took another look at the stained glass, seeing three unicorns with wings depicted on it. Their horns touched together and the onlt difference between then were the color of their manes. Red, white, and yellow. The unicorns all had a deep orange as their body color.

Strange, but that orange wasn't an orange-brown like a horse's fur could be, just orange. An odd heraldry choice, but this could be a clue as to where he was or who he should be talking to.

His ears focused him on the humming again. It didn't sound like it came from one specific point, but rather all over. He sighed out when he was drawn away from his fantasy thinking brain again.

"Vantor, let's go on an adventure," he spoke to himself while he walked down the hall.

This was definitely some sort of residential quarters. Every single door lead to another fancy room with a bit of food in it, a giant bed, expensive decorations, and some kind of horse depiction. The royal family who owned this place really must have liked showing their heraldries. Or horses.

The food was all fresh, thankfully, and he even managed to find water and juice among the copious amount of wine. He didn't want to risk running down that path again. He came to the end of the hall and saw suits of armor, all holding giant swords extend to the left and to the right in an even larger corridor.

The armor didn't seem right, shoukders were slumped, chest was inward, and legs don't bend that way. As he went around one, he caught the side view and realized it was another horse. The royal family here must be a bunch of nuts.

Even then they didn't have any guards around that should have found him by this point. That was definitely the weirdest part besides the fascination with horses.

Tink

As he stared, a light almost bell like sound broke him from his gaze and the humming filled his ears once again. He turned around to see on the floor laid one of the suits of armor, this one with a mane and tail of red coming out of it. He approached it, crouching low to inspect it closer as one of the giant swords were in one of the hooves.

He curiously eyed the first, seeing as horses had no fingers to grip amything with, but this suggested that it could actually hold things. If the denizens of this castle were actually horses, it would explain the obession with equines all over.

He reached down and flicked open the helmet's klappvisor, a horse stared back at him, its eyes flashing over him in what seemed to be silent terror. The armored horse slowly rose from the floor. Its movements weren't practiced or purposeful, but wobbly like it had spent a night out on the town. The sword followed with its hoof and was eventually held in both forehooves of the creature. Vantor as slowly stepped away and stood straight as it got up and continued to lock eyes with the pin prick pupils.

The horse knight advanced, sloppily swinging the thick blade down and slamming it onto the ground as its intended target stumbled back.

"Wh-what the fuck? I didn't do anything!" Vantor argued as he continued to step back from the horse.

Tink

The unique sound pitched off the stone walls and he turned to tun away, hearing the crash of metal as the horse kept up with him. It didn't chase with a purpose either, looking much more to be hurrying after him in a desperation with legs that were asleep.

It kept pace and Vantor stopped running down the corridor, snatching and wrestling one of the empty suits of armor for its own thick and wide blade. He hoped silently that it wasn't just for decoration while he heaved the steel slab up.

The stallion who chased him stared on in fear. It was male, he came to that conclusion after studying the armor a bit more and seeing an extra plate on the lower body.

The sword swinging at him broke his unnecessary thoughts and Vantor stepped away, watching the slow recovery of the horse before he heaved his own giant sword in a horizontal arc.

The horse had incredibly thick armor and Vantor had no training that he could use to even justify calling himself an amateur. The blade still surprisingly cut easily into the armor and the flesh of the horse before him. Blood did not flow, but the horse collapsed shortly after.

He could see the red slowly trickle from the huge gap in flesh, but it didn't flow as fast as it could before it stopped altogether, his sword still lodged in the neck of the once hostile horse.

Vantor didn't understand anything of what happened, but he grabbed another sword from a suit of armor all the same. He stared at the presumably dead knight while he claimed a new weapon. Dead, after a minute or two of staring, he was certain it was dead. It hadn't moved in a long while and when he turned his back to it, no noises or pursuit followed. The new slab of steel laid against his chest and shoulder.

Tink

He moved on, traveling down the corridor a bit more and into small hallways that were all still some kind of bedroom or quarters. The fruit and vegetables along the way filled his belly nicely. Vantor kept moving in fear another metal friend was on its way to him. Servant quarters, guard barracks, decorated knight rooms, it was very likely he was in the residential wing of this castle.

It was quite like jsut out of a story book, save for the weird white lights on the ceiling and that no window could ever be looked out of. Every glass window was bordered perfectly by rock on the other side, but there was not a single crack in any of the glass. The rug was still in perfect condition, seeming to be one giant sew runner that included corners and continued without breaking the pattern. Walking for three hours as deonted by his smartphone, he found himself increasingly paranoid.

No dust, no people, no other signs of active life, and he was just attacked sporadically. It didn’t really add up in his head to any kind of conclusion. The only thing he drew was more anxiety. There was that low hum that his brain eventually tuned out. Vantor had to really focus to hear it again.

Tink

But that sound was definitely special. It didn’t just sound like it was coming from one direction, but it felt that way too. This time when that high pitched note verberated to him, it tingled his exposed skin from that direction to. It was the best kind of lead he could go on while he walked and walked. Vantor, of course, continued to explore every room he came across just to find no more clues except that this castle was definitely owned and operated by horses. Every suit of armor and piece of clothing he saw in a wardrobe alluded to that. The food was still a bonus to him, but he’d have prefer the good gas station beef jerky for such a long hike.

Eventually, he came out of endless corridors, into a big courtyard that was filled with dead bushes, stems, stalks, and trees. If you could call it a sign of life, the crystal clear waters of streams, small stone canals, and other streams held fish. Unmoving fish, their fins didn’t flap, their bodies didn’t rotate with currents. In fact, there was no current at all which meant there was some crazy laminar flow in this messed up place or the water wasn’t moving despite the clear indications of bubbles and ripples.

That’s when he finally decided to conclude this whole castle, even this courtyard, was stuck in time. The horse that attacked him was the only exceptional besides himself. The courtyard was overshadowed by a black void atop, no stars, no lights.

This was definitely all underground. That answer brought him even more questions. If this was all underground, what was above it? Who was above it? Where on Earth was he? Is there a tunnel or cave out?

And that’s when he spied, on the other side of this giant courtyard, another horse. This one wasn’t wearing armor, but hide some kind of cloak on meant for its anatomy. There was a horn protruding out of its head. And it lit up with a gold and white light, sparkling. Vantor found himself stunned at the display until a projectile of the same colors zipped toward him. He ducked, watching it explode on the wall directly behind him without damaging the stone.

Adrenaline surged in his body and he quickly ran back into the castle and down the same hall he was once in, sprinting as he heard the next volley explode.

Tink

There was the sound again, coming from a different direction at the intersection. Vantor immediately bounded down it, determined to find out where he was before one of these horses or unicorns killed him down here.

Even more hours later and a sleep in another guard’s barracks, Vantor found himself walking down a large set of stairs into a throne room. The ceiling was high, it was well lit, and the three winged uncirons were depicted on banners of the same colors the entire castle was decorated with. It extended out to the left to a giant set of stone doors. Silver and gold accented the doors and even some decorative accent tables and potted plants. For whatever king live here, it was fancy. If he could scrape some of this stuff off with his sword, he could be-.

“I see, a guest of which ilk I have not witnessed,” a deep feminine voice called to his right and he looked over to see steps decorated with gold and silver at the edges, alternating. Above at the top, one of the three winged unicorns sat on a throne in a set of three, occupying the left chair. A multitude of stars was chiseled out and painted white, red, and yellow on a backdrop of blue.

The middle chair held another symbol indented into the top. A rock on fire with a streak of red behind it, the asteroid was full of holes. The chair on the right was missing its symbol at the top, having been broken in two and the stone around was all crumbled away.

“Hello, creature. Might I know your name?” The equine brought him back to reality while his mind raced in fantasy worlds. Its coat was a royal blue, its mane sported white that flowed and shimmered through the air. The horn atop its head shed a bright red light.

“V-Vantor. Where am-.”

There was a soothing hum that reminded him of the low vibrational sound that was still active even now. The lit horn of this equine seemed to dim just a bit, “Vantor, come. Please do not sit yourself over there, come sit with us. Though our kingdom does not move, it has been almost a million moons since we last had a guest,” it patted the throne next to it, “I am Queen Vast Nebula, the alicorn who rules over this quiet place.”

Vantor hesitated a bit before he stepped himself over. He figured that if it was intelligent enough to make conversation, it could tell him where he was and it didn’t harbor any physical ill will to him. Heck, maybe this was even just one long dream that he could indulge himself in for a little bit.

“Vantor you said? Perhaps no coincidence in that was share an initial.”

“Vantor Nelson,” he smiled while he sat on the throne, turning himself to face the ruler.

“Oh, ha. Peculiar that you would be chosen to arrive now. I know you have many questions, please share them with me.”

“Where am I?” That was the first question that plagued his mind.

“You are in a land of ponies, a kingdom looong forgotten,” she was starting to indulge herself in conversation, “the name no longer matters, I wish it forgotten. The ponies on the surface call this place the Deep Lock and it stretches under all their cities, all their towns, all their train systems, and even under some of their lakes.”

“How...how do I go home?” To this question, she smiled warmly though sadly.

“My friend, you do not get to go home.”

“What do you mean? This is a dream, is it not?” As soon as he finished his words, Vast Nebula reached over and put a hoof to his cheek. He could feel all the fur tickling his skin, providing a soft surface while the hoof underneath poked at him.

“If this were all a dream, I would be playing a game of chess with you over tea by now. I assure you, you owuldn’t win that game.”

“Th-then how did I get here?” His voice shook while she withdrew her hoof. This couldn’t be real, it had to be a dream. If this was real, then he could have actually died a couple hours ago, right? No, magic does not exist anywhere. The closest thing to magic was quantum physics.

Or was he just refusing to acknowledge that what had happened was real?

“I know this information may linger in your mind before you accept it. I felt you enter my capital and used a spell to trace where you came from. I found it was another world, I know the one who landed you here, but she is not a pony you should socialize with,” she warned, turning her eyes to the crumbled throne, “the room, behind the thrones, I’ve converted it to a guest sleeping quarters and gathered an ample stock of food there should you be sleepy or hungry. I know your walk to me was long.”

Vantor followed her eyes and looked at the broken throne of the set of three, “what happened here? Why are the other ponies in the castle attacking me?”

Queen Vast Nebula held the same smile on her face for a while now, “I hold them locked in place with a spell that ceases the progression of time for everything but me. I buried this place atop a vast amount of rock and dirt so the ponies who escaped would survive. If they have attacked you, then that means that my magic is slowly being overwhelmed,” her smile dropped, “which is why I find it no coincidence that you were chosen to be teleported out of so many. My enemy would have your name be a sign to me.”

“Your enemy? A sign?”

Vast Nebula looked down to the steps, “Comet Streak, my sister, is an alicorn who used to rule with me and my brother Novae Canvas. I’ve not seen...eye to eye with Comet Streak in millions of moons. She had wanted to rule alone to achieve our ideology of a perfect paradise where not one disagreement occurs, not one problem burdens a pony.”

“You and your brother were against this?” Vantor proposed and she nodded in agreement.

“She first asked us to step down and we declined, saying that all three of us must discuss and be in agreement to come to a decision. Comet Streak then fired magic without warning onto my brother. Novae Canvas,” she pointed to the broken throne, “died that moment and I banished her to the far reaches of the kingdom before sealing all of this away and sparing a few ponies from the fate of so many down here.”

“Then you stopped time.”

“Yes, but Comet Streak had not had to expend her magic to keep everything in a stasis so suddenly and almost permanently. She has been using breaches in my magic to fetch ponies and even other creatures from the surface in an attempt to lure them back with more so that she can persuade them that I am responsible for the events that transpired so long ago.”

Vantor shook his head, “let’s say I truly believe you, that ths isn’t a dream I mean. Then...what proof do you have?”

Nebula pointed at the throne beside her, two books laid there, each one had the symbol of her throne and her sister’s throne on them, “our diaries. Read them, you’ll find her thoughts disturbing and our writing distinct. It’s said one can not truly emulate another’s style of penmanship.”

“I’ll...take them with me. I’d rather not read somebody’s diary unless I have to.”

Queen Nebula smiled, “a polite gentle creature, aren’t you? Care to be my only functioning knight?” She raised an eyebrow before she laughed, “or consort?”

And eventually, after Vantor nervously let a chuckle leave him and Vast Nebula’s laughs stopped echoing, a silence filled in.

“My sincere apologies. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend to speak with. While I would love to keep you, I have something to ask of you, a big favor.”

This sounded a bit like an adventure. Vantor didn’t think he was really cut out for an adventure, but from what Vast Nebula said, there’s not much of a choice. He nodded.

“Thank you for hearing me out. I ask that you return to the surface, warn the ponies there of my sister’s encroaching emergence. They do not deserve to deal with our follies.”

“And how would I find the way out?”

“Comet Streak has opened all the tunnels and caves I once blocked off. It is only a matter of time before a pony from above stumbles upon her before me. You can find a way out, I’m confident.”

“But you don’t know of a direct exit?”

Nebula shook her head, “my friend, I had used some of my magic to make a sound in order to guide you subtlely to me. Now all my talent is absorbed keeping my sister from breaking free of her stasis. And the exits that I resealed I have forgotten where they are in my long vigil.”

Vantor looked away from her smiling face before looking at the steps. No way home, impending doom, and he’d have to find a way out himself. This would definitely be an adventure. He mulled it over a bit longer, even knowing he didn’t have a choice.

Well, he could always lay down and accept his fate, but what kind of a loser would do that?

The hum that never left slowly wormed its way to his brain again, “I’ll do it, Queen Vast Nebula.”

She cheerily laughed, “call me Nebula, that will suffice enough. I thank you, Vantor. Whether you succeed or not, I appreciate your efforts. Please, rest here before you leave. I can, for a certainty, tell you that an exit out of Deep Lock does not exist in my capital kingdom here. So,” she pointed her horn at the closed throne room doors, “you must travel elsewhere in the kingdom to find an tunnel or cave out.”

Vantor picked up the sword and stood from the throne again.

“Oh, and that weapon you hold, is enchanted. Though massive and heavy, the magic imbued in it has lightened it and made it an excellent tool against any armors. I do wish to give you other means,” Queen Nebula tilted her head backwards, “take my own sword and shield from behind my throne. You’ll find them to be more effective and the shield will protect you from magic attacks should the need arise.”

He went around the throne and carfeully set the huge slab of steel down in exchange for a blade of completely blued steel styled as a saber, but still of the same thickness and width as the one he just set aside. The handguard was fully plated in silver and the shield held the same scheme as well with a glowing blue circle in the center. He walked back around to the front of the throne where Nebula smiled.

“My, look at you. Perhaps you truly are my last knight,” she laughed, happy to make her own jokes with an intelligible creature again.

Vantor nodded, “right. I’m, um, going to actually sleep for a bit and eat something before I go.”

“Archway behind the thrones,” she spoke warmly, “rest well.”

He went behind the throne again, traveling through to entryway to see a study that had been converted, a bed present and piles of perfectly preserved and fresh produce crowded baskets, boxes, and even overflowed from the desk. Vantor took his time to eat and to sleep.

Can You Even Begin to Count?

Vantor flashed his eyes open a couple of times and chowed into the food before him. Of course, eating all of it was impossible, but the citrus this time spurred him on more. A change of pace from sweet fruits and common vegetables. Lips puckered from the intense lemons he had just made a mess with, he finished with water. A few hours of sleep was all he could manage in the brightly lit castle, it’d have to do him for a while.

It occured to him that a Queen was in the next room over, likely having sat there while he slept. Also having sat there while he ate. Where were his manners? Vantor slowed himself down, eating with more care, taking time to properly chew and quiet his chomps.

The sticky evidence of fruit juice was unavoidable. Thankfully a wash bowl was accessible, the porcelain decorated with the same silver and gold accents with a trio of long horns painted on in the center.

Archeologists would have to dedicate a three story museum to this place if they ever found it. Vantor sulked at that thought. Nobody and nopony would ever come upon this place in the state he did. That spell Nebula's been keeping up would eventually run out from either her defeat at the hooves of her sister or his success at exiting and returning with help. He looked to the two journal’s. Comet Streak’s laid below Vast Nebula’s. The journeys the two of them took laid in those pages, a view no other creature would see except him. What an incredible privilege. He grabbed the pillowcase up from the bed, ripped it, and began to bind the books together with them.

Vantor wondered if they had any boats on the surface, be a long time since he was last out at a lake.

He knotted the books tightly with the ripped pillowcase before he made a loop and hung it over himself like a sash. Fashion points didn’t quite count, but this is something he’d want to read later. Learn more about what he’s up against. Carrying them efficiently would also matter, he had a sword and shield to keep a hold on or he might meet his demise against one of the citizens turned minions. He’d try his best for Nebula, that’s what he eventually settled on. If she’s strong enough to suspend time this long, she could figure out how to get him home, right? To family, friends, and work?

At least he had a thick sharp crescent of cobalt steel and a round plate of...porcelain? Vantor didn't look it over to well before he went to sleep but now that he held the shield he took that moment. His back craned over while he rose it closer to his eyes, the shield was porcelain with a steel cage over it and in front of it. The same precious metals in the rest of the castle clung as accents and chiseled designs. They swooped in swirls and crescents, but underneath all the metals lied paints of different colors. Alicorns were simply depicted, one of them clearly Vast Nebula and he could make a guess as to who the others were.

He could almost hear the heartbreak when Vast Nebula had to act so quickly. He wondered what that day might have looked like. Then he wondered more about Nebula herself. Could she shoot giant lasers? Bomb an entire city flat? Teleport?

And she asked him for his help, oh how small that made him feel. If he was doing something to stop her maybe more powerful sister, what chance did he have?

"Coming out here or hiding away for the rest of time?" Her voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“Good morning, Vantor,” Queen Nebula addressed as he walked out of the study turned bedroom, her greeting was followed with a hoof hiding her laugh, "did you forget somepony was listening to you eat?"

Vantor couldn't manage his eyes up, "haaa...so you did hear that. Sorry, Queen Nebula. It's not very pol-."

"Rubbish!" She threw her hoof to the air, "I won't be allowing you to use that title on my name anymore!" She stamped her hoof down and it echoed out.

The sound was just proof that she commanded authority despite having no subjects to rule over. Leadership was born in her.

"You will also refrain from addressing me as 'majesty' or I might have to clap you in iron myself," Nebula continued on firmly.

"I...okay, I understand, Nebula," he nodded.

"Now fix your posture and look at me. I believe I said good morning," she was smiling wide, enjoying this moment of social torture with a puffed chest of pride. Vast Nebula was a firm believer in self-confidence being the only key needed to self-actualize.

"G-good morning," a short silence filled between them, "wait. You said you have this whole place in a stasis spell. Morning isn't a...thing or concept here, is it?"

“Well, no. This spell is so extensive that the ponies above have to move the sun and moon themselves,” she laughed, “those who were spared must have had very powerful children,” a look of angst shadowed her smile.

He could tell Nebula was genuinely happy to converse with him, but the sentence she had just spoke held a kind of sentiment. It wasn’t something he could bring up or address, not now. That wouldn’t be a very productive conversation.

Vantor stepped down the gilded stairs, carefully heading to the throne room doors, “by the way,” he huffed, “how...why were they attacking me again?”

“Comet Streak has been forcing them to. That’s my guess, she’s influencing her magic over them and making them act on her behalf. I understand you might have a quarrel with that.”

“Well, I...I killed one of the ponies down here before I met you.”

“And I imagine it to have been done in self defense,” she waved her hoof dismissedly, “in honesty, they are all doomed to die. When Comet Streak is defeated, there will be no need for my stasis spell anymore. Those ponies and my kingdom will rapidly decay. Don’t feel bad if you must put them to an end.”

Vantor stood in front of the giant doors, “what about you? Will you die?”

Vast Nebula smiled that same depressing expression, “no. Alicorns, especially myself, do not age past a point. I will disappear, to be crushed by my kingdom as it settles atop me.”

That is what Vantor actually had a problem with. An unknown hero going unthanked or unnoticed? Home had enough of that happening. He didn’t say anything, but he gripped the silver ring of one of the throne doors, heaving as hard as he could to open it.

“Good luck, Vantor!” She called from her throne.

“Vany, we’re friends,” he stopped pulling on the door, "is there no way home for me? Really?"

"You're not thinking of running out on me, are you?" Her humor covered up her depressing smile pretty well. Vantor knew the look of someone running from something, he often saw that in the mirror too a long time ago.

"Of course not, I just-. I'll help you is what I'm saying, but I do want to go home."

The hum around the air harmonized with one that grew in Nebula'a throat, "it's only natural. That was eventually every creature's executive concern that ever came through here. Comet Streak brought you here, that much I am certain of. She could also get you home, but I'm hoping on the goodness of your heart. You'll not abandon me or the innocent world above to just go home, Vany?"

Vantor shook his head, "no, but do you think you could get me home?"

"Perhaps, when my magic is more free to be used and I've rested my horn properly," she waved her hoof at him with a warm smile, "now go on, brave champion. Make haste for your important mission."

Vany yanked the door open and stepped outside.

No sun greeted, no stars, no moon. Only artificiaal light did for the first couple meters? Kilometers? He wasn't keen on distances by hand, but atop the lush grass and cobbled path was something he immediately regretted seeing.

"I'm glad you opened the door and not me," Vast Nebula was standing at his side now, looking at the hobbling group of slaved subjects.

Warriors in plates of steel and weapons of might, pegasi with taut bowstrings and arrows taking aim, and unicorns in embroidered cloaks that painted landscapes on their sides stood in a cohort.

And they were readying.

"Seems Comet had a gift she was preparing outside my door for me," Nebula's face flattened, she didn't want to show any weakness though her heart fled deeper so she could get this over with.

Her horn shined, almost blinding the comparatively short Vantor next to her. The green grass wilted away, the ponies in front crumpled over, smelled offensively bad, and then their equipment caved down empty. Nebula's horn dimmed back to show she returned to the normal stasis spell.

Her breaths were labored.

"There...that should allow you to travel. Take a lantern from the castle wall. Once you trot yourself far enough, you'll be in almost blackness."

Witnessing the horrifying event of rapid aging, Vantor's mind wandered while he passively retrieved one hooded lantern, "where is Comet Streak?"

Nebula huffed out, "I truly do not know. She could be anywhere having slowly moved against my magic."

He nodded at her answer before Nebula reached with her hooves and tied the lantern to his hip with ribbon, "go on, Vany. I trust in you."

He couldn't manage words, still in shock as what he had witnessed. If she didn't trust him, she could vaporize him in an instant. He could always stumble upon Comet Streak and ask for a one way ticket home. Which meant she was taking a huge risk on him.

Vantor moved himself forward, through the dust remains of steel plate, armors, weapons, ponies. It was a pledge to just how old Vast Nebula could be. The grey flakes fluffed in a cloud that dispersed and followed the air trail he left behind him as he moved on. The grains were the only indication that something still stood there, even the cobblestone path was eroded significantly.

“Good luck and don’t take risks on my behalf,” Vast Nebula walked back into the capital of this underground kingdom, leaving the door cracked open.

Vantor was now alone in his solitude as he left the lights Queen Nebula was sustaining, journeying into the dark with the lantern to keep him company. The reflective hood helped to banish the darkness, but it was a very vast field he was walking into. He stuck to the stone paving to avoid getting lost, but if he didn’t know where he was really going he might as well be lost.

His eyes kept to the blocks of rock, calling back on that specific look Vast Nebula had. She was hiding something, deep deep down, something that made her very anxious. She’s maintaining the stasis, had she done something to force Comet Streak’s hooves? Maybe she’s only haunted by knowingly destroying her entire kingdom.

No, she’d have millions of moons to come to peace with that, this was something that must be an ongoing issue and she didn’t seem too concerned that he would fail in finding an exit and returning with help. In fact, she was more confident in his abilities than he was. His mind kept looping back, on and on, about what her anxiety could possibly be about.

Then he remembered, she offered him Comet Streak’s diary and her own. Therein might be the answer to her worried eyes. It could be possible they hide a secret or a confession of a sin, but she must not be concerned if she gave it to him. That meant he’d maybe need to do some detective work to figure it out.

While he stared at the ground, he failed to notice a stone wall coming up until he almost ran into it. His eyes traced around it and up it. A tower of some sort, as lonely as him in the darkness. After chasing around it, he found some stairs leading up and up. Of course, the first thing he came to wouldn’t be a spiral staircase leading out, but this solitairy tower did provide something useful.

A map, albeit with no detailed instructions beyond markings of stone roads and names of places. Vantor looked around, peering as best he could in the darkness and did actually see some places well lit with a orange magic glow. The unicorn who had attacked him had a similar magic color.

Comet Streak’s work?

No, that can’t be right. She’s in stasis. Then who was responsible? The orange glow wasn’t a color he’d seen before. He looked over the map more.

Capital Saddletta, that’s where he came from. Luckily he could use that to find his direction.

Balkburg, Cinchton, Novae’s Chaff, Fetlock Midway, Poll City. These names went on and on, there must be countless cities and towns and not all of them are even account for on this map according to the little note at the bottom. Not only was Vantor beginning to feel awfully small, he was feeling like this bit would be too big to chew. He still needed to get home, if not for work, for his family. Three days missing, police reports must have been sent in by now and search teams deployed.

Then again, he was in his twenties, perhaps they’d think he just took off with a friend or he’s trying to live large at the moment. His friends would probably question where he was themselves, given he’s the Dungeon Master of their games. Vantor strolled back down the tower, headed towards the location marked at Poll City if he had read this elementary map right. Weird that he must now be a play in Comet Streak’s campaign, setting up encounters against mind controlled ponies, wandering in the dark, discovering a whole city.

He shook his head as a white-gold orb whooshed past his head from the dark in front of him.

“What? God!” He ducked another one, pulling the gifted shield up to him. The third bolt crashed onto the artifact and the magic dispersed in a dazzling display of tiny sprites. It only felt like something had lightly tapped the shield.

He began to advance, seeing the unicorn come into the lantern light as he went. Same as the warrior he fought, eyes were pinpricks and it backed up slowly, firing faster and faster now. Vantor closed and stood in front of this unicorn, “sorry,” and punctured into its neck with the excellently crafted saber. He was used a simple phalanx tactic though he was not in a group of train soldiers. The unicorn stood a while longer before crumpling over, dying and bleeding out just a little before the stasis locked the pony up again. Seems Comet Streak could use some of her influence to break the spell of Vast Nebula, and at an alarming amount.

How long before the angry alicorn would scatter bits of him in the wind?

Vantor still didn’t quite know how he should be feeling while he looked at this unicorn. It was mercy killing but still killing. He thought it best not to linger on that too long. Nebula had told him they’d all die anyways, right? He couldn’t equate that to deer or rabbit or fish, it’s not hunting. They were sentient creatures.

Well, they were really more like zombies. They weren’t at all in their own minds when they came at him.

After an hour of stepping on stone, he passed by a perfectly preserved sign.

Poll City

And true to the name, it was tall. Towers rose up everywhere all over the place while the orange glow kept it lit. It was styled very differently from the castle he was just at, buildings were modest, decorations were more wild plants and lush greens rather than expensive pottery, precious metals, and the like. The towers, however, were orchestrated with giant glass windows on all sides. The panes were reflective, so there was no looking inside from the outside, but if he had to guess.

This is where the Highrise Suites are located. This is where those rich New Yorkers would be.

He waltzed into the city, thankfully finding it empty. There’d bound to be some threats around, but none right now. The more modest houses gave him the benefit of time-locked produce yet again. He’d use the shield as a basket, piling food onto it to eat later when he sat down for another rest. His smartphone battery was thankfully lasting a while, given it was only being used as a clock and not mindless entertainment while he sat through another work meeting or whatever.

Though he couldn’t really count on the time being accurate, he could count the passage of time with it. Vantor piled some of the stocked supplies up in a home with less windows, modest and simple and small. He dropped the diaries off as well before going about the old city, climbing up an orange lit tower of past elites.

And he found fancy furniture, wooden and carved, cushioned and brand new. Carpets that maybe would cause the runner rugs in the capital Saddletta to run green. There were even weapons hanging on walls. Vantor then had perhaps the silliest idea ever. Electricity was a constant of the world which means he could generate it. He figured copper wiring could be readily made or whatever.

So he took his phone out, confident he could recharge it and took a couple of pictures of the city. History down here must be lost, he thought, and if he could have some kind of proof to the ponies above, they might not treat him like he’s insane.

He clambered up tower after tower and clambered down tower after tower. If he was to find a way out, it must be by climbing up. Five failures in, he realized that must not be the case. That was the only kind of lead he really had, however, the diaries wouldn’t contain any information with helping him find a way out.

The sixth time, he struck the bad kind of gold. Golden and white colored magic shot at him from an open cavern that lead into the rocky roof of the Deep Lock. The shield vibrated as it took the blow for him, but as his eyes focused he could see the situation in front of him. He had climbed this entire tower just to find passage out this way was an impossibility.

Vantor fled with no hesitation, giving up on even attempting to exit that way. There were dozens, maybe hundreds of ponies lined up and ready to rain down on him with magic, arrows, and an arrangement of melee weaponry. He sighed out, heading back to the small home he claimed as a temporary setup. He barricaded the door and windows, now wary that Comet Streak might go hunting for him.

All those high fantasy movies he watched with his dad were nothing like this. They didn’t feel like this. This felt terrifying, it felt like a throat that was always dry and palms that were always sweaty. It felt like his legs were more tired than a normal jog to the store an back as a teenager. It felt wrong.

But he had another thing in mind that might take his thoughts away from possible death to a world away from this world. Vantor sat down on the simple bed of the single bedroom of the home, opening up Comet Streak’s diary and Vast Nebula’s side by side. Thankfully, both them were very organized and dated their entries. Vantor wasn’t used to counting days, moons, seasons, and eras; months, days, years were the norm. He did however notate that Vast Nebula’s diary started on First Moon, First Day, Autumn, Era of Alicorns?. He flipped to the same date as Comet Streak’s diary, everything up until that point was just childhood, daily life, common conflicts, nothing of the big issue he wanted to grasp. Maybe it could provide insight in how Comet Streak thinks so he could find a way past that barricade of ponies? The more mundane entries before it could do so, too, but he didn’t think it’d be very likely to happen.

Vantor knew there were many citizens of the Deep Lock. For so many to be in one place just to ensure he couldn’t get out this place must really be as massive as that rudimentary map leads to believe. He wanted a break from the monotony that capitalism offered. This was it, but wasn’t by any means the chocolate bar of choice for a break.

Comet Streak must have loved using a diary judging from how much thicker hers was than her sister’s. Vantor started reading on with Vast Nebula’s first and would read through Comet Streak’s next.

We’re still deciding what to call this era, but the citizens announced along with their mayors that our alliance should be turned into a giant kingdom to be headed by me, my sister, and my brother. When all three of us popped wings out of our backs after...

And he settled in to read.

Author's Note

By Equestria, I tried really hard on this chapter and couldn’t quite get it the way I wanted to write it. Feels like not enough action happened in it, but I wanted it to conclude with the sense of real danger Vantor is in. I spent so long editing it so it definitely didn’t come out as quick as some of my other things.

Us Three (Diary I)

Author's Note

This entire chapter is a recollection of events via Vast Nebula’s and Comet Streak’s diaries. You can skip if you like, the first paragraph of the next chapter with be a summary of what Vantor read through. I took the creative liberty of writing entries as a look into the past rather than the literal ~~hand~~ hoof written entry.

These chapters will be marked in case anybody wants to zip back to the present day where Vantor might cower the rest of his days away.

On top of this, these chapters will always be posted with present day Vantor gallavanting around a frozen kingdom.

Us Three (Diary I)

All three of them stood at the plains crossroads, a massive crowd of ponies stood quietly and stared on at them.

Vast Nebula, a deep but vibrant blue coat contrasted her wispy white mane that flowed to a very slim end, her tail followed the same style.

Comet Streak, her pure alabaster fur provided a perfect backdrop for the many golden locks that drooped down from her head and flank, swirling and twisting in many little ringlets. Unlike her siblings, she put an incredible amount of effort into syling her magic filled mane and tail.

Novae Canvas, a stallion who stood behind both his sisters. His pink fur popped his blazing orange mane and tail out even more as they pulsed, beating with a life that you wouldn’t see often in his eyes. Even at this moment, one could easily tell he was already thinking of something completely different.

“We’re overjoyed that you all should trust us with this responsibility and we promise to always keep your best interests in mind,” Novae Canvas began giving the speech with his only line, withdrawing behind his two sisters.

They could each remember the trials that everypony overcame under guidance they rose to.

Vast Nebula recalled back then when she quickly gathered up every able pony she could when news of a griffon invasion started. She had wasted no time in teleporting around, city to city, as the talented unicorn she was. Nebula spent wach visit barking orders to each mayor of all the pony towns who refused to act until they knew as a certainty that others were sending ponies to guard the Eastern shores. She thought it preposterous and chewed them all out, all seventy-eight of them. Her words bit into them harshly as she arrived at each. Cowards, that’s the specific word she chose.

Her only regret was that she could not partake in the battle herself, having exhausted all her magic just to get everypony capable there. The sudden spark of leadership and unity popped wings onto her back and the griffons were repelled later that afternoon. She could still recall all the sounds of ships sinking, wood splinting, and voices screaming.

Get your flank back here, we’re not fleeing, we’re fighting.

We can handle this! Unicorns, charge your horns!

Send them to the sea!

Pegasi! Board their ships as they come ashore!

Earth ponies! Buck them all right into the ocean!

Her cries of war reverberated in her mind while she looked over this huge crowd, smiling contently to herself. She deserved to be here, she needed to be. She had to help lead them to protect one another and find comradery regardless of who they were and how many differences they had. Somepony had to show them the way, why not let it be the Vast Nebula? First of her siblings to gain her wings.

Comet Streak looked to her sibling and knew that look of pride, Nebula was reliving glories in her head. At a time like this.

But that spurred the sister to remember the day she claimed her own wings, Comet was the first to ascend. She could feel a fraction of that pride when she had first opened trading between other kinds of ponies. Sure, they all came from the Poll City and they were all unicorns there, but ever since she was a filly she was very tired of going to bed hungry after eating so little. She did something incredibly taboo and unheard of, but the reason why it was shunned was lost to time altogether. That was the biggest nonsense that stuck out to her. She hated tradition for tradition sake.

So, Comet Streak took it upon herself to trade with the neighboring farm filled with Earth Ponies. She offered tools enchanted with magic to help till the land without breaking, even helped them to harvest all their crop herself so they could plant more and share with the residents of Poll city. Then she talked the pegasi into giving her rain clouds in boxes after she gave used the excess food they stored up to start off with a good relationship. She was being the hero of her own story, blazing a new way for all ponies to live. They shouldn’t have to live in such poor quality when they could all prosper together.

She was the biggest dreamer of all of them and did all these things behind the scenes. Snuck around in a black suit at night, returned home just before dawn, bumbled through days exhausted moon after moon. She felt she was making a huge difference. There were some close calls and then there were even times she got caught, but only by one or two ponies that quickly ‘forgot’ she was even there.

All things comes to a head eventually and the tribes of ponies caught on and began arguing among each other that all this talking and trading between pony kinds wasn’t right. Comet Streak challenged that status quo again.

So what?! You’re happier! They’re happier! We’re happier! Why do we even stay separate?!

And nopony had a good enough answer for it.

See! None of you even know why! We’re all living better because of each other, it’s time we throw out the old and welcome the new!

The evidence was right in front of them, their populations boomed after that. All Comet Streak had done was just show them the way.

Novae Canvas was last to sprout his own wings. He was always quieter than his sisters, but that didn’t mean his heart was any less true. He left this speech to them, but he could remember his own words he shouted.

All of you just sit on your hooves! Sit on your money thrones and your business empires! Sit behind your desks with your titles! All of your beaurocracy takes so long for any help to reach somepony it no longer mattered!

He had faked letters, taking dozens of moons after the population boom and economic shift to perfect some forgery skills. He called all seventy-eight mayors down to the plains crossroads and locked them in a shield, refusing to let a single one go.

This isn’t right! You can’t keep us here!

This is kidnapping!

They were right, but he didn’t care. Just like his siblings, the very thought of seeing somepony else suffer tore his heart. Novae Canvas spat back at them just as harshly.

I don’t care! You either start helping your citizens in each of your cities and towns or I’ll depose of you myself! And you’re all gonna help me do away with these giant empires that suck the meaning of living from everypony!

They shot back at each other hour after hour until it turned into day after day.

You’re nothing but a salted griffon!

And your feathers are all just for show, too!

Sometimes it would devolve into just insults, but Novae didn’t let that shield down, not once. On the fourth day of no food the mayors had finally convened together and agreed to his demands. Sure, they called him a terrorist, but nopony suffered nearly as much after that day. His wings flung open the moment he let down his shield and the mayors saw his way as the right way even more.

With the support of mayors, he had many laws and regulations wrote into action to restrict the exploitation of more common ponies and allow them to chase their dreams, talents, and hobbies. He magnified the happy way of living his sisters built the foundation of.

Together, the three of them made the nation what it was now. All the mayors and even all the citizens unanimously voted on this action.

“...and we three come together, having taken steps to move all of us to a better future,” Vast Nebula continued the speech.

“We promise ourselves to all of you, citizens of Caballica!” Comet Streak announced the name the three of them agreed upon, one she proposed.

Cheers of their names, cheers of their past heroisms, cheers of anything in approval of them rose from the large crowds, booming over the castle that had just had its foundation laid out behind them. A new era was dawning for all equines, an era of peace ensured by those who truly cared.

Vantor yawned as he laid the diaries down, marking the pages and shutting them closed. He’d need rest if he wanted to continue finding his way out, but the allure of the diaries and exploration of the Deep Lock was beginning to become tempting.

He had to continue the adventure of the ponies he just read about.

Where Comet Streak had the luxury of millions of moons to prepare and plan and enact her strike back at her sister, Vantor has days if even that.

Beneath His Quiet Front

Vantor drug himself out of bed, eating vegetarian yet again and preparing for the day. The pillowcase turned sash binded back over the diaries and he wore it again. The lantern was also plopped on his belt.

He didn't turn it off when he came into Poll city that was lit orange. Now, he'd get to wander the dark when he left here to go elsewhere.

Or he could maybe try to find some lamp oil, that's why he found himself with his head in a pantry closet, under the kitchen and the bathroom sink of this single small home. He eventually just went from place to place like a roomba, searching for some.

That's when his mind turned to what he had read last night. All three of them definitely got along well, but surelly they had their disagreements. They all three were elected to power knowing they live basically forever.

Which meant they had forever to fix everything and make things perfect. It didn't add up to Vantor, Comet Streak wouldn't have had a real reason to try and take the seat of power for herself then. He'd have to read about that in her diary maybe.

Turns out, the alicorns all had the purest intents and most compassionate and empathic hearts of anypony in their kingdom. Novae Canvas had filibustered all the mayors into playing nice by force. Locking them for days in a magic shield, and then he wings sprouted. Vast Nebula rallied them all to defend against a griffon invasion, putting herself at risk by exhausting hwr magic just to do it. Comet Streak had broken the walls between differeny ponykinds, showing it was silly to not have unicorns, earth ponies, and pegasu all speak with each other and benefit from working together.

Three great rulers and it all went wrong. That's a question that would itch Vantor's mind.

But not now. It's a silly place to put lamp oil in the shower like a bottle of shampoo. He filled up the lantern as much he could before he tied it onto his hips again.

The basic map he recovered from the crossroads fit the kitchen table nicely while he started to plan out his next moves.

Poll City is a total bust, he's not going to be able to fight past an army of ponies, even if they are slow. He could see himself getting torn apart pretty quickly.

Novae's Chaff was Southeast, sounded like farmland, but across was Fetlock Midway which sounded kinda promising. If it's name indicated it was a travel hub or something, he might find some tall towers in the area that were once security posts. That's a stretch of logic still, but it was all he had to go on.

Thunk

That wasn't something he'd want to hear, especially since he was the only one out here who had complete control of his facilities. What followed was the horrifying sound of the wood door being split apart and splintered. Smoldering white and gold flitted from the blown open door, the couch used to barricade was flung down the hall.

"Guess Comet Streak is getting stronger," he spoke as a unicorn rushed into the home, staring at him with fearful eyes.

Shield and sword in hand, Vantor advanced quick. The unicorn's horn crackled and a beam if magic collided on his shield. The force impeded his forward movement and made him widen his stance or be knocked over. Thankfully, Nebula's gift was enchanted quite well and he still managed to advance and put the unicorn down.

Countless other face stared at him from outside. Vantor was pinned down, Comet Streak had him right where she wished. Vany's mind raced with anxiety first, the deadly situation apparent before a single second had passed. Then his legs shot him down the hall of the home and he leapt through a window, closed curtain, glass, and wood structuring. He landed atop a pegasus, snapping her bow in the process.

"Go, we...we'll try to stop her," a whisper escaped out the pegasus' mouth.

He'd never believe he would hear any other pony down here besides Vast Nebula. Vantor heeded her words without delay, he legs pounded and as the pegasus took the first step forward to try and catch him, she took another back.

That spell was breaking, but that didn't mean the ponies would just let Comet Streak off the hook. Vantor ran through Poll City before heading Southeast. Maybe. Before he had even exited the heavily populated city, he came to a lush grassy field.

One look behind him and he could see the group of ponies far behind, but they had stopped chasing after him. Comet Streak had stopped forcing them to.

His eyes fell back out to the field in front of him, tall grasses covered with tulips. A sea of green with sparkling red, yellows, whites, pinks, and oranges.

There were a lot of citrines waving in a wind that shouldn't exist.

In the center, a single tall aspen tree took root, waving with no leaves. Vantor could hear it creaking even while he walked to it, reading off an engraving on the tree.

May you always be the wind upon our faces and the hope in the grasses.

At the base of the tree, his eyes fell to a singular book, thin, but it had a mark similar to Nebula's. A black splotch dotted with many orange and yellow stars. If he had to guess, this could have been Novae Canvas' diary. That would mean Vast Nebula set all this up to be some sort of grave, which would explain why Comet Streak would not give chase. Maybe she felt guilty over killing him or she couldn't bear to face this marker even through the eyes of a controlled pony. This little place was definitely peaceful.

A suiting marker for a pony who always strived for peace, no matter the means. Vantor felt Novae defined peace much differently than he woukd, though. Novae likely had higher standards and criteria.

Vantor continued through the field, taking the diary with him, knowing of one good use for it even if it didn't contain any information. He felt Novae would understand. On the other side of the field, he saw a crowd of ponies gathered, horns lit, weapons readied, and bows taut. None of them loosed an arrow or charged him down. So he found himself at the end of the road already. Ponies had formed a circle around the field, ready for the moment he would attempt to cross.

Comet Streak grows stronger by the hour.

“Well...I guess this is where I stop, huh? I come out there and you blast me apart. I stay here and I starve,” Vantor sighed out, undoing the sash of diaries and adding Novae’s to it. He rebound all three and slung it over his shoulder again, “so, any chance that uh, you’ll bring me something to eat? No?” There wasn’t any indication that she had heard him, no movement of the currently peaceful enemies. No voice to reach back.

”Comet Streak, you have broken our peace.”

There was a voice that boomed over Vantor’s head from the empty space above. He was certain he had heard it though and not imagined the masculine tone that spoke with such silent fury.

The ponies surrounding him suddenly no more as they vanished to dust in an orange magic glow. Vantor was free to continue traveling at the aid of a disembodied voice. A chill ran over his skin, the first explanation was a ghost and the second was even worse. If something was watching him, then that meant he could also be vaporized or worse in the blink of an eye.

Without missing a beat, Vantor pulled he legs forward and sprinted in fear out of the peaceful clearing. He kept on going all the way to Fetlock Midway, only slowing to a walk when he hit the darkness again, the lantern lit his way a second time as he kept his eyes to the ground and the shield raised in case he would get ambushed.

He often dreamed of going on a grand adventure, saving the day, being the hero, and recieving all that praise. It was a fun little daydream to have when you zoned out of work and the faux feeling of fulfillment was great, but still second to the real thing. Vantor’s feelings had definitely changed about it. The real adventures are overrated, going out to swim in the lake was adventure enough. Vany still held the determination to see this through, not everybody gets a shot at being some kind of hero so he wouldn’t waste it. Yet he did understand why heroes of stories were in such short supply, nobody would ever want to do this crap a second time, certainly not him.

Vantor eventually made it to Fetlock Midway, the small city adorned by the orange glow as others were. That's what the sign said. Signs, travel, navigation; all important on an adventure. The only map he had was left behind in Poll City and he wasn't ever gonna go back there. Fetlock was odd, it was composed of differing architecture instead of being uniform like other places he had been to down here. It was like cultures moshed together, modest farmhouses, modern brickwork, even adobe style homes stood jumbled about.

As he headed in, Vantor couldn't help but take stock of the countless stalls. Food, fabrics, art, metalworks, and more were strewn over the wood surfaces of each stall. Fetlock must had been some sort of hub.

That said, there weren't any tall buildings at all. Vantor started to consider just looking for Comet Streak himself and fighting her head on. The whole mind controlling thing was enough to crub that though.

As he trudged through the city, he was hoping more and more for some way out to the surface. With no map, that goal seemed impossible.

Until he had walked himself to the otherside of Fetlock and saw the next sign, something the map didn't declare.

Filly and Colt Mountain Pass Ahead 8km

A mountain! That's it! He could find a way out there if he could climb high enough. As if something read his thoughts, orange lights sprouted along the cobblestone path out eastward of the city. They popped into existenxe one by one, guiding the way there and Vany switched the oil lantern off. This way he could save on that resource for actually climbing the mountains. The second treat of having the way lit for him meant he could confirm there were no threats ahead of him.

So he marched, smiling this time, to the mountains. He'd sleep when he got there, even if it meant on rocks. Comet Streak must have been perilously close to breaking free, amassing an army to trap him at Novae's grave that quickly also meant that fighting these ponies off could quickly become a problem.

The first pony he ever fought was wobbly and its attack incredibly sloppy. If Comet Streak could focus her efforts, then she could fight as good and likely better than him with her mind-controlled minions. Vantor had a silver lining though; these ponies would resist her influence as best they could and once he did get out they wouldn’t be able to give chase.

It was a long walk there to the mountain. Eight kilometers was not a laughing amount.

“My feet are gonna kill me,” he mumbled out, well aware of the pain in his body from just traveling the day before, he’d just had it tuned out from that encounter at Novae’s grave.

“Then what’s in you...”

”I write this as I’ve begun to suspect Comet S of tra al. S ‘s t then I. Peace s n the s ce of conflict. Peace is the absence of fighting, of wars, of those left behind and forgotten. We have peace now. us s n .

n n s u u u u n s . sun us .

Vantor cracked open Novae’s small thin diary and if the first words were anything to go by, that indicated Comet Streak’s reasoning for attacking him first. Yet while he was reading, letters fell off the page and color came onto the text.

“Magic,” was the only word he managed out. He had no idea what this meant, but he closed the diary again, thinking on the letters that remained and trying to decipher the missing words before the whole diary went blank.

He would try to figure it out as he went, something to keep his mind off the pain in his feet.