The clopping sound of hooves on stone and tile floor rang out in the silent halls. The creak of a door and the pony did step in, the light of sun and reflections shining on his dull black body. The hard hooves echoed as they hit the floor, the silence broken by the taps as he neared the beautiful mare. His blue-green eyes with the slit pupils eyed her gorgeous body. Golden body paint was painted everywhere except her head, hiding the gorgeous hue of her slender form. Her golden silk clothes stretched over her chest, just barely hiding the beautiful breasts underneath them as the sleeveless shirt showed ancient symbols and hieroglyphs scrawled and sewed onto the lovely fabrics. A small skirt of the same design was wrapped above her tail, not quite reaching her delicious flanks that were just staying there teasingly in front of his face. Her mane and tail were blue-green, shot through with holes just like her hooves. The fibres hung around her shoulders in perfection, just short of her insect wings and showing off her odd horn and crown that jutted out and stood out from her golden body and bright mane. He stopped behind her, tapping his hoof to announce his presence to this beauty in front of him. Behind him were his Priests, the loyal Changelings lined in neat rows as they prepared to defend their master.
The damsel turned towards him. her eyes the same shade as her mane. The slit pupils let more of the color show, a quality which the stallion possessed as well. She licked her fangs and drew closer to him, lust in her eyes as she admired her lover. "High Priest Metamorphosis, it has been too long." She whispered, her voice fine like silk. She ran her hoof along his body, careful not to smear the golden paint onto him. "Tonight we carry out our plan, just was we promised. I have brought it." She purred, turning to the side slightly and showing the dagger concealed in her skirt.
High Priest Metamorphosis smiled at her, his eyes full of smugness. "My dear lady Chrysalis how I have longed for you. Let us have this moment together, before our deed is carried out." He leaned in, careful not to touch her and locking his lips with hers. They broke apart for a moment before diving back in, his hoof pulling her in close and smearing the golden security but he didn't care. His blue-green mane fell in to the sides of his face, shielding their private moment. Two tongues met in a heated battle of lust, wrestling until both gave out. The black coats of paint underneath the gold blended together, showing the press of his hooves against her shoulders.
Chrysalis pulled back with a gasp as the sound of more hooves rang in her ears. "Metamorphosis you must go, somepony approaches!" She whispered. She turned around as the stallion fled, hiding behind a closed curtain. The sound of doors opening made him peek out, careful to not be seen. He watched as Pharaoh Blueblood stepped into the room, eyes on his lady. Chrysaslis put on her most convincing longing glance as she swayed her flanks, tails swinging back and forth.
The sterile white Pharaoh moved towards hid damsel, stopping in front of her. His crown rested on his head, the symbol of his rule. He looked at her with love and compassion in his eyes, enjoying the same look in hers. "Why are High Priest Metamorphosis's Priests in your house?" He questioned.
Queen Chrysalis, wife of Pharaoh Blueblood looked at him with innocence and confusion. "There were rumors of an assassination that would take place around the area and he wanted to ensure I would not come to harm. He was merely defending you from heartbreak my King." She murmured, giving him a light kiss on his rough lips, flinching on the inside as she kissed one she did not love.
Metamorphosis drew his sword and held the hilt firmly in his mouth, fangs denting it. He snuck up quietly behind the Pharaoh, the swishing curtains muted as he made his exit, lowering his head and tucking it next to his right shoulder.
At that moment the Pharaoh noticed the smudged paint on her shoulder. The serenity of the moment was forgotten and his rage built up, blue eyes widening as the fire burned within. "Who has touched you?" He bellowed the demand, grabbing a hooffull of her sleeveless shirt and yanking her forwards, gesturing to the smudged paint on it.
Chrysalis pulled back, tearing her shirt. As the royal fabric flitted to the floor, she pulled the dagger out of her skirt with her lime green magic, swinging the lethal weapon and driving it into his stomach. Blood flowed thickly onto the ragged blade, staining it as the blonde maned Unicorn fell to his knees, the dagger ripping out and leaving a bloody gash in his belly.
Following his lover, Metamorphosis swung his sword and carved into the Pharaoh's hide, tearing a neat slice through it. He drove the tip of the blade in multiple times, splattering blood over himself and the stab wounds on his ruler. He drew back and swung, the sword tearing into bloody flesh and going right through his heart, coming out of his chest as he impaled Blueblood. He withdrew his sword and the Pharaoh fell to the floor, eyes wide open and mouth open in a soundless wail. He was dead.
Chrysaslis gasped as she heard the sound of hooves coming, many pairs that were racing down the halls towards the commotion. "Metamorphosis you must run, you must hide! If they catch you then you will be killed. I'll keep them here, only you can resurrect me!" Tears sprang to her eyes as she pushed him away.
"I will return for you my love." Were the last things he said before fleeing, ducking behind a door just as the Royal Guard poured in. The white pegasi advanced on Chrysalis, not even flinching as their armor clad hooves splashed in the crimson blood of their king.
Chrysaslis remained calm as they stood in front of the ruined corpse before her, blade still held aloft in her magic. "Queen Chrysalis you will come with us. You have been found guilty for murdering Pharaoh Blueblood and therefore you will be punished gravely. The charges for murdering a member of the Royal Family is being mummified alive. Please make no moves as resistance will lead to further punishment by the law." The head guard ordered, his voice completely calm, but his eyes holding an endless amount of fury directed at her.
Chrysalis gave a cold look and lifted the blade, blood still dripping from the ragged metal. "My body is no longer his pyramid!" She hissed. She reared up, flailing her hooves threateningly to warn them off. In that split second she swung her blade but instead of dispatching the guard she drove it right into her stomach, feeling it dig right into the organ as the blade and hilt were submerged right up to the tip of the golden hilt. She ripped it out and stomach acid, almost digested food and blood spilled from the wound. She collapsed lifelessly, a look of victory on her dead face. Her hard exoskeleton cracked upon connection with the ground, but she didn't budge. Queen Chrysalis was dead by her own blade.
~~~~~
The sands stretched out for miles in every directions, the wind sweeping the grains of rock and dust around in powerful storms and gentle whips. A large group of ponies, a large stallion followed by his loyal guards, ran through the sand.The head of them, the large stallion, ran with a bundle concealed in a white cloth in a cart that he pulled. His two toned eyes were narrowed against the blasting winds and his mane whipped around behind him, the gradient fibres having an ethereal effect as sand particles shot through the unnatural holes in it.
Inside the bundles of fine cloth lay a dead and bloodied Queen Chrysalis, the knife still embedded in her torso. Insects nestled within in the holes of her body, bloodsuckers hidden deep within the sands of Neighgypt. They feasted upon her contaminated blood, leaking from her suicidal wound. Even though it was just the night after she had been buried, they were already moving in upon her defenceless corpse, teeth and suckers jabbing at her softening carapace.
Tonight, while the moon shone upon Hamunaptrot, that would end. No longer would the beautiful maiden suffer from separation from Metamorphosis, no longer would she watch from afar. The pharaoh had been slain, two blades driving into his flesh and heart. Tonight she would feel her blood flow again, feel the wounds seal as the knife fell from shell and skin. She would shake off the creeping parasites that fed from her and burst with life. Her breath would escape in a cloud of fog as she regained life in the cold desert night.
The fugitives stopped and Metamorphosis stepped forwards, eyes scanning the surroundings. This was the place, his destination. He placed a hoof on the sands that seemed to shine with more minerals than the rest, paler than the moon-kissed particles and shards surrounding it. The criminal muttered incantations, complicated words in the tongue of the ancient civilizations that thrived in this spot before him. The particles and grains flew about him, shimmering crushed gems and rock reflecting the moonlight. The stars glowed brighter and the moon seemed to shine with more brilliance. Under the canvas of Luna, a city started to come into existence. A pale silhouette was the first sign, but soon a mass, volume and structure was gained. Color intensified, bricks solidified and the hidden city soared into the sky. Pillars and temples arched into the night and the spell faded, revealing the magnificent structures, naked under the silver light. The city from legends and myths, the city of the dead.
Hamunaptrot.
On hooves silenced by cushions of sand, the leader and his guards stepped into the mystical place, eyes shining with wonder. They filed into a proud and jutting temple, the centre of the pillars and arcs. Horns flared, lime green magic shone and torches were lit by the green flames. They stepped slowly through the corridors, holding light sources in their magic. Their shadows were thrown on the wall, taller than the solid ponies, following step for step in the slow journey. Cobwebs hung from the corners, even spreading from wall to wall and needing to be burned by magic. Gleaming, hardened shells of scarabs rested in the walls, carefully avoided by the travellers. They came upon a room, where Metamorphosis stepped towards a coffin and murmured under his breath, much like how he had to make Hamunaptrot appear from the dust. Seconds ticked by before there was a loud bellow and he shoved the lid of the coffin off with sheer force. Inside, the preserved corpse of a mummified Pharaoh had a black book held in his forelegs, which was snatched by a holed and shelled thief. The lid was placed back on and locked in place and Metamorphosis returned to his soldiers, bidding them to follow. More corridors were soon disturbed, sands and dust bearing the hoofprints of the intruders.
Another great room opened up before them. Golden reflections gave it an ethereal, artificial light that cast the room in a lovely glow. A table rested in the centre, behind it lay a pool and in front a pedestal. Metamorphosis pulled the corpse os his lover from the cart and cloths, placing her on the table before stepping onto the pedestal, opening the black book and flipping through yellow with age pages, careful not to tear them. He stopped at one and lit up his horn, igniting dark magic deep within him. His lips moved and words poured out, foreign and ancient, forbidden magic of the Black Book of the Dead. The light intensified, poisoning the gold to a bright, sickly green. The Queen's body rose into the air, cracks sealing along her broken exoskeleton.
"HALT!"
The words fumbled and halted, the magical link was broken and all healed scars opened as Chrysalis fell back to the table. The leader whipped around and saw the Neighdjai swarm into the room, taking arms against his screeching men. One of them faced him, a solemn yet furious glare on his alabaster face. "High Priest Metamorphosis, not only have you been found and charged guilty of murder, you have also been caught in the act of forbidden resurrection of another pony, not to mention an accomplice in the assassination of Pharaoh Blueblood the First. For these crimes, you will be punished by a curse worse than death," He turned to his soldiers, eyes cold, "Prepare the ritual, for he shall be punished with the Hom-Dai." He ordered.
Several gasps came, not only from the High Priest and his band of criminals, but from the throats of the Royal Guard. The Hom-Dai was reserved for those who committed only the worst atrocities possible, so far it had never needed to be performed. After much hesitation, the white unicorns pushed the protesting and screeching fugitives towards the corridor, a few running ahead to prepare the wretched room, eyes full of fear and doubt.
~~~~~
"AUGH!"
The gurgled cry came from the bound Metamorphosis. A blade was removed from his mouth, along with rounded, bloodied and salivated strips of thick flesh. Tears of hot agony ran down his face, mixing with the blood seeping from his ruined mouth. The pure white bandages binding him were soiled with blood and saliva, tears and sweat. As the tight cloth continued to wrap from his back hooves to his head, ascending his neck, he could see his pained and fighting followers, blood running from their mouths and they cried and begged for mercy from this terrible agony and the curse they were doomed to be put under. He tried to speak, but the only noise was an agonized howl as the movement made his bloodied mouth burn, pouring more blood onto the once pristine bandages. Pairs of pure blue, pupil deprived eyes met his, pleading him to make their suffering cease before his vision was blotted by the scratching cloth. His movements futile and restrained, the mighty warrior let himself be taken on the backs of the armor-clad soldiers, knowing his impending death.
The solemn stallion lay their former High Priest in the sarcophagus. Two more advanced with a cauldron, teeming with shining and moving creatures that let out ominous and threatening chitters. They placed the bottom on the edge of the tomb before tipping it, releasing the wretched insects onto the imprisoned stallion. Millions of tiny legs scurried across the now screaming murderer as he felt the pins and needles feeling. Sharp teeth suddenly pierced into his bandages, tearing through them and right into his shell. They burrowed into his flesh, muscle and sinew and he gave a pained screech. The others followed and he flailed wildly, struggling to free himself. Blood blossomed from the wounds, strings of tissue, flesh and muscles spread across the bandages as the scarabs ate hungrily, lapping up his blood like dogs and chewing through his fibres and sucking out his bone marrow. Bloody vomit stained the bandages were his mouth was, running down to his chest and trickling into his burning wounds. He kicked his bound legs, but any light was suddenly snatched away as the lid to his coffin was placed and locked, leaving him in the darkness to howl his pain, blood starting to pool around him.
The guard closed the lid and locked it with a small object. He stashed in behind his breastplate and muttered an incantation, chanting in a deep monotone as his golden magical aura weaved around the twitching tomb. The loud cries, the gurgling over blood and vomit and the thumbs as two back hooves struck the lid never wavered his concentration. Even as soiled blood dripped through the cracks in the coffin he continued until he put out the light and turned to his guards, who were trembling with terror at the scene before them.
A younger guard stepped forwards, eyes wide with horror. "W-What happens if he gets out sir? I've heard the stories of the dead rising from the graves and tombs, of the black magic that frees them. He was trying to revive Queen Chrysalis, what should happen if the book is read aloud and he is set free?" He asked, his voice trembling. In his mind, all he saw was himself pouring the flesh eaters into the tomb, brining a former authoritative figure to his doom.
The leader of the group sighed gravely and sat back on his haunches, lowering his head. "If Metamorphosis should ever arise and escape, then all hell will break loose. The Ten Plagues of Neighgypt will begin and he shall be immortal, a never ending life that will never cease. If he ever comes back... May Celestia help us." He whispered, imagination spinning its gears and bringing horrible images of fire falling from the sky and locusts swarming his beloved land. A shudder passed through his body and he stood up, looking over his men. His ears suddenly picked up the sound of silence, indicating the death that lingered in the air. "They are dead, let us go." He ordered sharply, pounding out the door with his soldiers behind him. They exited the temple through the twisting tunnels and emerged into the pale dawn. He turned and faced three of his crew. "You three, stay here and guard the temple. We will send more soldiers here. If brave adventurers come to awaken Metamorphosis, we will kill them and prevent the unthinkable." He ordered. The three armored stallion snapped a salute at him and he nodded before charging away, followed by his remaining troop.
After a couple hours, the warriors stopped for a break, sweat dripping from their coats and along their golden armor. They caught their breath and drank thirstily from a canteen stored for the trip and got to their hooves, taking off again. One of them turned to look when he heard something hit the sand, but saw nothing and ran hurried to catch up with his fellow combatants.
Behind them, the key to High Priest Metamorphosis's tomb lay in the sand, forgotten when it feel from the leader's breastplate.
Hundreds of years passed and the ancient Pharaohs fell, time wasting away their kingdoms and bodies. Still the guardians of High Priest Metamorphosis's thrived, guarding the sacred temple. The Neighdjai they were called, the Royal Guards of old, tradition passed from parent to foal to defend with their lives the tomb of the fallen evil. Countless bodies had fallen in this place, the blood soiled with sand that dried on the spears of these mighty warriors. As evolution took its course, so did their weaponry. Simple spears, daggers and sword evolved into fearsome blades and guns, shining with the lustful light of death. Bullet shells and nicked blades littered the sand, buried underneath with the skeletons of the past invaders that had fallen prey to the insects that feasted on their rotting flesh. Even their own had died, impaled by a spear or with a bullet through their skulls by their enemies. But so far, none had succeeded in getting to the sole reason they stood there, hearts cold and eyes blazing.
The leader of the group stood forwards, white ears pricked and eyes narrowing against the calm wind. He could see ponies approaching, hooves thundering on the sands of Neighgypt. Unicorns, pegasi and earth ponies alike charged towards the city, eyes blazing. The vibrations came through the ground, faint but clear. The armored stallions behind him raised their spears and guns, muscles moving on pure memory as they snapped into positions, weapons at the ready. Wings snapped out behind them, the warriors bred to be pegasi only.
The advancing invasions had weapons of their own, fine blades and loaded guns ready for shooting. At the head of them was a grey stallion with a flyaway deep grey mane. In his teeth he held a ragged dagger, hooked to his vest he had no less than three guns complete with a pouch of bullets. The unicorn's blue eyes were blazing, set with determination. Beside him was an adult mare, her coat the color of the sand below them and her mane a scale of grey. In her mouth she carried a sword by the hilt, guns and bullets attached to her vest. Her eyes were bright magenta, lit by the fires of her will.
As the Neighdjai prepared to attack, they spotted another army approaching. The leader placed forehoof in the air, signalling for his troop to stop. "Wait. Let them kill themselves, we will take out the rest." He ordered. Each stiffened pair of wings curled back to their owner's sides and the pure white stallions sat back down, weapons going slack in their hooves. They watched from the top of the temple as the armies clashed, not even flinching as steel met steel and hoof met hoof. They caught the cruel flash of bullets from guns, flying bodies and blood soaking the sacred sand. Cold eyes observed with interest, watching as the armies destroyed each other.
The leader and the mare of the invaders leaped behind a broken column, sheltering themselves from the massacre. Bullets whizzed by their heads and they looked at each other, panting heavily. The stallion looked out from behind and pulled back as a bullet went right through his hat, narrowly missing his skull. "This place is more guarded then I suspected Corporal Do. What plan of attack do you suggest?" He asked quietly, wincing at another blood curdling scream from a dying soldier.
Daring Do pondered for a moment, rubbing her wounded shoulder. "Hmmm... The most I can suggest General Set is that we all regroup and- General?" She looked around to see that Jet Set was fleeing, blood speckling the ground behind him. One of the alabaster pegasi was chasing him, but the prey seemed to be outrunning the predator. She turned away with a cold glare, betrayal in her eyes. Arming herself with her blade, dripping with the blood of her Neighdjai, she hit her hooves against the ground and gave a mighty roar, leaping into the fray. She was swarmed upon by her predators, they set upon her like mosquitoes. She slashed her blade at feeble armor and brightly colored heads, aiming for their eyes. Blood flew across her pelt, from the wounds she inflicted to the ones inflicted upon her. Cuts opened up along her sides, face and even on her wings and legs. Greyscale hair and goldenrod fur flew, falling to the sand and showing little flashes of her raw, pale flesh.
Silence.
Daring Do looked at all the fallen bodies. Everypony was still, coughing their last breath or vomiting their own blood, but all were dead. She backed up, prepared for an ambush. Her flank bumped into something and she whirled around, tainted blade raised and eyes full of hate. "Trixie?" She asked, lowering her stance and inspecting the bloody unicorn. She put her blade in its hilt and inspected her closely. "We must be the only-" A bullet whizzed past and tore right trough her hat, sending it flying away, "Survivors." She grabbed the unicorn and pulled her behind a fallen pillar and they ducked just as another deadly piece of metal dug into the stone. The pegasus looked back and saw several of the opposing team running towards them. She loaded her pistol and fired, managing to take out most of them.
Click, click
Daring looked at her gun and ground her teeth. "Damn!" She snapped before turning tail and running from the sole survivor. Trixie had fled with what remained of herself and her pride, which wasn't much. The stupid coward. The Corporal skidded to a halt, narrowly avoiding being paste on a wall. She looked around and realized she'd been chased into a corner, cursing, she turned and saw the pistols aimed at her, ready to fire. With a gulp, the one proud mare raised her head, ready to feel cold steel tear through her throat. What she was met with was a fearful whinny and she opened confused eyes, seeing her opponents fleeing with their tails between their legs. Something swished in the corner of her eye and she noticed the sand swirling around her, on its own. Her hooves slapped at it, eyes widening fearfully as she jumped out of the movements of sand. She half expected scarabs to burrow into her or venomous teeth to sink into her leg, but it never came.
Before her, a face appeared in the sand. The face had no features that could identify it, just the face of a stallion. The mouth gaped and wind howled around the sacred city, like the sand figure was crying. With a loud scream, Daring Do fled the scene, much like the stallions who'd chased her there. She didn't look back once, eyes full of fear and horror as she escaped the terrifying being that had confronted her.
The Neighdjai still watched from atop the temple as Daring Do fled. A few spears were aimed at her, but the stallion in front shook his head. "Leave her. Her opponents will slay her or the heat of Neighgypt will roast her. She is doomed to die." He explained in his deep tone. With hesitance, the fearsome weapons were lowered and they watched as the speck retreated into the horizon, beyond their field of sight. Hamunaptrot was safe once more, no Neighdjai blood had been spilt and none of their blades were spoiled by fresh blood. Even as the intruders fled, they didn't move. Their eyes trained on the sand and sky, watching if anymore of the foreign adventurers dared test their might. Scarred warriors watched all day and night, taking shifts and making sure that not a moment was left unguarded. None would pierce their security and none would reach the tomb of Metamorphosis, not if they had anything to say about it, the stallions who spoke with violence instead of words.
