Ritual of Freedom, ch 1: Times Long Remembered

>The animals hushed and stared.  Not a yowl, not a skitter, nor rustle.  You were merely watched, by things you had yet only heard of.  The world had darkened to a cobalt, and lined itself in shimmering view, lined with platinum.
>You walk the path, hood cloaking your head from the chill.  Hunched softly, you hold at your own elbows through the brown linen robe.  The sandals ebb at your feet.  Your bent walking stick chewed at your hand.
>You had felt such a strange shunt. The path had curved, and the fair folk had lost their will to speak with you.  Then, you felt souls approach.  Watching.
>Inhuman, dangerous things.  Hungry things.
>A single glare, and they knew better.  So they watched.  Waited.
>You had only enough provisions for a short walk. Nothing more.  Your knowledge, at least, had provided you more from the bushes. Until the very forest had changed, when the moon had risen.
>You knew the night brought confusion.  For those that were unknowing, and ignorant.  But this... this had been a complete transformation. Subtle and complete, the path back had disappeared into something completely unfamiliar.
>And that feeling.  The moon rising, framed by the curving, dark trees, cresting over the path and into the open sky. And the stars.
>It had taken you twenty years to learn the heart of that late-night sky.
>They were different.
>If you ever had a real home, it was in a very far-off place,  now.
>A bridge came.  The opposite side hushed by fog, you pause merely to peer ahead.  Wooden planks and dry, brown rope.  You begin to pass over it, the rope tensing on each step.
>Another threshold.
>An oppressive cloak weighed you further down.  It could not slow you, merely press upon your shoulders.
>As you walked, the fog cascaded unnaturally over itself, and eventually faded.  The world was cleanly growing grass and folded-up blossoms, trees distanced from the path in such a way the world felt welcoming, and open.
>Yet, no creatures even cowered from you.  No eyes, searching for a weakened meal. No growls of territorial predators, the sort that soon realized you had no damage to issue them, and were completely unafraid of the sort they could deliver you.
>With the realization of their absence, you knew this place was sacred.  So, you stopped to listen.
>The song of the fair folk was aloof, and softer than what you knew.  But at least you were able to ask them.
>taken aback, silence stilled their throats.  They did know not you, but you were aware they knew they at least this place.
>You approached a stone monument, carved with a craft you did not understand.  Wrapped in flowing spiral stairs, birthed at the entrance to the miniature castle, the windows inside glowed with unnatural light.
>You begin to speak. Your voice so harsh and loud against their softer words, your words frighten the fair folk.
“Forgive this tresspass, for I am weary.”
>You feel a gentle approach from them, curious then.  Of what, you were at first unsure.  But they had not seen something such as you.
>Let alone, had they spoken to anyone in quite some time.  The loneliness eminating from them was not just palpable; it was sublime in it's dominance of their spirits.
“This place holds power.  Power I do not wish to disturb. But it is very obviously safe for me.  Would rest, you consider, something vile of me?”
>A sense of pity met your soul.  Not from yourself; you had no such capacity for your own doings.
>Tiny, gliding lights coalesced upon the door, but the details of their forms you could not make out before they dispersed.  As you approached, they left, and feeling of languid, watchful welcome was the last you felt as you opened the door.
>Yet another threshold, you passed.  You sent your concerns out to them; what, within such a hidden, faraway place, would you have to avoid disrupting?
>They said nothing more to you.  Once again merely watched, you arrive at a massive stone door.
>Adorned with six monumental glyphs, the make of which you again did not know, you passed your hands over them.  Pure sensation of emotion erupted against you upon each one.  Things you knew, this time- the power of soul, it seemed, was universal in language here.
>You placed your palm upon the only one resembling an animal.  A single butterfly, carved into a concave orb.
>You could hear song.  Notes flowed through your mind, like a fine breeze carrying the tune of a siren at sea.  The pain in your hand soothed, and you plucked a splinter from the other hand before mimicking the result on the wound.
>The next, a cloud with patterned lightning.  Reservations melted. Blood pounded in your head, similar to what you'd felt while watching a hammer meet white metal on the anvil.  You felt solid and pure.  Thoughts of old friends in the order back home lifted your spirit.
>You could sense something else, however.  This door was superbly sealed, the feeling of a wall not coming from the thick stone alone.
>The glyphs- while you did not understand them in the literary sense, for the creators of this place seemed to use symbols, you knew the meanings merely by touch.
>Whomever they may have
>You moved to the center of the door, the only place you could find a seam.  Your head lowered, and you touched your fingertips against one another with open hands.
“Forgive me, for I seek merely knowledge.”
>The fair folk began to clamor.  You heard them whispering amongst themselves.  The wall did not budge, and indeed, only seemed to strengthen.
“I fear not death. If you feel the need to murder me for the sake of knowing, I would be honored.”
>Shocked once again, the fair folk watch as you open your hands.
“It is all I ask.”
>Forefinger and thumbs forming a triangle, you place them at the seam.  As you focus, you feel the emotions you touched upon the door.  Blending them into a mixture at your core, you send it forward.
>You spread your hands from one another, the seal splitting and the doors making nary a sound as they open.  You pick up your walking stick, and then enter. The doors quietly slide shut, and the seal reforms as if you had brushed aside a curtain.
>You may have been trespassing, but the last thing you could ever want was for a protection of such strength and depth to fail.  You were not here, after all, to cause damage.
>With that thought, you clap the bottom of your stick on the ground.  Waving your other hand up and down along your face, you sigh as you feel the cool armor of shade enshrouds you.  Your spirit was contained within, no still-present spirit able to taste your spirit in the air.
>For a long time, you stood.  A pair of windows gave meager starlight, not nearly enough to view what was within. All you knew was that it was a circular lobby, from the way your steps and walking stick echoed.
>You were bid to stop.  By your own instinct, as well as that of the fair folk.
>They were worried about you.  Your motivations, your reasoning, and the dangers that could have presented.  But to your credit, you had not lied.  Having touched the door, something had lingered, and you had no desire to even stretch the truth when you had addressed them with afterward.
>The moon then strolled into place, above a previously darkened, circular pane of colored glass in the ceiling.  Focused moonlight bore down upon the stone, yet to be walked upon in what you could only see as generations.  Upon polished stone sat six large orbs, made of immaculate, colored material, and inlaid with gems you had never seen.  Shaped in the likeness of the imagery upon the door, you instantly knew these items were of such grave importance that your mere presence had been the first allowed in centuries.
>The image of the glass, a huge, flowing mural of unspoken story, painted the idols in moon-dissolved color.  You could only recognize few things about it, merely the fact that there existed upon it unicorns of unusual size and make.
>You knelt before the items, looking to the glass.  Back to the orbs.
“Please, I beg of  you.  Grant me dreams of the past, so that I may see what I have encroached upon.”
>The fair folk wailed.
“I fear not knowledge.  I fear what may happen, should that knowledge die in the stagnation of memory.”
>You saw the lights flutter inside.  Forming a small swarm that wandered around you, never reaching more than a few feet away from you. They started to dance around you, as you closed your eyes.
>Then, you dreamt.
–
>Knowing nothing of where you were, you watched the world from the view of a forgotten soul.  Bright and beautiful, the vision of an ornate, granite city towered within the mountains. Floating in the sky, you turned yourself to look down.
>Fields extended as far as you could see, tapering off from when the snowy rock met the soil.
>Lakes appeared as puddles, while equines of every hue walked to drink at the shores.
>Towns arose around these blue places before your eyes.  Years passing like moments.  Before long, time slowed to a more noble speed, allowing you to see these equines walking as sentient men.  Tools, conversation, fine food, and joy.
>You turned as a flock of the unicorns, their likeness immortalized in the glass, flew by on wings of massive span.  A flurry of feathers left behind, you moved calmly to catch one, yet your hand passed straight through it.
>These fair folk- these few leading you along, in particular. They must have been part of the events, else they could not present you with such a colorful, detailed image.
>You were brought to the ground, painlessly.  You walked through a laid-stone street, listening to the spoken word of the creatures there as they went about their lives.
>The winged unicorns landed here and there. The smaller ponies rushed up to greet them joyously, bereft of fear from size or hatred.  The larger ones regarded them all with honest, almost laughing smiles, cradling them close with their massive wings.
>You were taken to many places. And everywhere, the scene was the same.  Massive, marble cities standing on high. Winged creatures, obviously more powerful than their fellows, lovingly tending to their lowers, as if neither were any different from one another.
>Harmony.  True and robust, across the land.
>Something you had not seen since...
>Ever.
>But the scene soon blended.  Time again shifted.  You were taken back to that first place, and watched it growing around you.  But you watched something else, as well.
>You watched the small ponies age.  The larger ones continued to visit, never changing.  You are taken to an open field.  A single mound of dirt stands there, a single stone slab extending from it's head. every other pony in the village standing around that grave.  The entirety of their attendance is crying, befuddled, and fearful.
>Had they not seen death before then?
>... No.  They had not.  You realized you had not seen a single gravestone in the other places you had been taken.
>Graves started to sprout, and you were taken to each one to watch it's momentary birth in every far-away place you had been shown.  The cemetery began to spread, and every time, not a single one of the larger unicorns missed a burial.  The world would stop to show you, speeding by everything until another death.  It soon became so common, seasons would not pass for several funerals.
>Yet the winged unicorns never changed.
>You were brought back to the first village you had been shown.  A field of graves, yet the world had kept moving- replaced as quickly as they died, you could see their children growing before your eyes.
>Then dying. Then more children.  In a little less than a minute, you had watched two generations of a family pass by, living out of carefully maintained stone home.
>Then, the world stopped again. You were brought to what you could only fathom as the town square.  The large unicorns landed, and the familiar, happy scene played out yet again.  But this time, one of the larger unicorns was scooping up mourners of the family's most recent loss.
>Time stopped completely. You were drawn to look to your left.
>A large stone was in flight.  One of the smaller ponies had uplifted one from the edge of the well, and kicked it full force at the larger, embracing unicorn in the distance.
>When the world was sure you were watching, it resumed.
>The stone cracked the equine squarely on the head, knocking her to the ground.
>”What would you ever know about it?!” The stone-kicker had screamed.  “Not once has any of your kind gone skyward without wings!  WHY?!”
>You recognized him.  As a child, minutes ago.  Part of that family.
>The white-coated creature stumbled to stand, the silence of the town focused between the two of them.  Blood trickled from her mane.
>The sight of such pain upon one of her kind incited silent, growing burbles among the town. As you watched, you felt something.
>Something real.  Something was coming into being at that very moment, and it stirred a bizarre dread in your gullet.  In your mind, you began to hear the fair folk weep.
>The stone-kicker begins to rant.  Things you were not unaccustomed to hearing.  But these creatures were a fresh race at that time; had they known how to deal with so very many losses, perhaps the manifestation you could feel growing could have been avoided.
>But this was the past.  You were not one to advise, nor intervene.  It had already happened.
>You push yourself to sense what is happening. Deep in the hearts of those around you, fear begins to settle.  The larger unicorns seeing one of their own bleed, they understood the concept of true harm.
>The smaller ponies, ushering more and more to the fields of resting souls.
>Confusion.  Silent, self centered panic.  In each soul, you felt them begin to close off to one another.
>It was then you heard laughter.
>Terrible, cruelly amused laughter.
>You held your stick before you, vertically. Waving your hand past it, the vision of the world shook.  You had heard such a laugh before, and as such, had been prepared.
>A devil of the people, devised by the purity of fear.  Such a thing could be brought to bear merely by indulging in the concept that it could exist. In this case, you pitied his birth.
>The death of harmony, from such honestly loving rulers, all due to something they could not control nor yet understand.
>The fair folk continued to cry.
>You were taken to all those places, once again.
>Endless storms led to floods, drowning those colorful cities and many of their inhabitants.
>The water to power those storms, stolen from the glittering pools of blue you had seen before.  You watched the land wither to brown, then simply to nothing.  Bones whistled in empty homes, so dry they fell apart.
>The crops from the now dead place led to starvation in another town.
>The clothing the starving town made never reached the summit town, causing many of the ponies to freeze.
>The chain went on, and for each link you were shown, the deeper your rage grew.  But you had to temper it; frightening the fair folk off during such a dream would likely leave your soul stranded there.
>Watching.
>You were drawn to the grey, dead skies.  The day seared one piece of the world endlessly; the moon froze another. It would swap on the whim of that odd, cackling creature.  You watched the marble cities tumble, and saw the unwitting entombment of many of those once beloved leaders.
>Yet you knew this creature was not evil.
>He was merely being fair, in the only way he knew how.
>Time flashed again.  You were in a room, where a set of the equines wept together.  Two of the bigger unicorns, one of the purest white you had seen yet.  Her hair of pink, she was being read a note by a male equine that appeared to be a soldier. His voice was a dull warble.
>The other, a cobalt female of somewhat smaller stature, had her head lowered as she listened. Blue hair framed her face.
>Many, many other ponies surrounded the table at which they all sat.  Every one from a different place, it would seem, as their garb denoted.  But in demeanor, they were all enveloped in fear.
>A sense of hopelessness exploded from them all as the soldier solidly finished his letter.  Both the winged unicorns began to weep.  Loneliness mingled with it in a fine dance that blurred them together.
>they were the last, at that time.
>The others with them, though.  Smaller. Weaker.  But no less strong of spirit.  And, like you, not afraid of death; they had, after all, known they would be submitted to her kiss in time.
>You could see something familiar upon them; you had noticed it when you looked at various clan flags for the larger, prouder towns, when they had existed in the dream.
>They numbered six. They matched the glyphs upon the door.
>You knew, then, what was in those stones.
>You did not want to watch. You had seen this so many times in your time, a reviled practice to appease your life-thirsty gods.  But not seeing it with your own eyes would be a travesty, after asking.
>The six ponies took position before the two others.  Barely able to lift her head, the white unicorn stepped forward.
>You felt the truth, then.  You saw the spirits leave those bodies.  A tempting drift lifted their souls from their figures, and you watched as they compressed.  One after another, their bodies fell limp as their spirits were compressed, purified, and made material.
>The first was that cyan colored soldier, volunteered.
>The second, a yellow pony without horns, but with wings. Shivering as it happened, she seemed to simply drop to sleep fearlessly.
>The third, something a vivid pink, smiled as she died.
>The fourth, orange and somber male, simply nodded before he dropped lifelessly.
>The fifth, with a small horn and regal dress, made no hesitation in giving her life away to her ruler.
>The final one, violet and with a dark mane that reached the floor, knew the true depth of her actions.  She simply bid the white unicorn goodbye, with good wishes that her gamble would work, and with that, had her body rendered inert.
>The stones hovered about the white unicorn. She flared her wings, and drew them to herself. With a light to rival heaven, the stones formed around each gem as the unicorns horn blinded you.  When you could see once more, what you saw made such perfect sense.
>Her pink mane had taken the faded colors of her sacrifices.  The color flowing like smoke off water, she was breathing hard, through devoured tears.
>Harmony, once again.
>They had to understand death, to manifest their true power. To respect it.
>One moment, she was there. The next, the ivory unicorn was through the open skylight, her cobalt sister close behind.
>That terrifying laugh echoed from the creature above.  The ponies within cowered with one another, crying on shoulders and closing their eyes, waiting for what they thought inevitable.
>Minutes later there was a horrific, gurgling scream from the creatures vile throat.
>You were brought to the sky above.  All around, the world was in ruin.  The mountains in the distance cradled the broken marble cities, visible even from the place you had first been.  You could see the scars on the land in every direction, and below, that city was the last one in any condition to even be considered existing.
>You were rushed down to the center of that first city.  The white unicorn, flowing with color, was bruised and bleeding from several places.  Still able to at least limp, the similarly wounded blue companion holding up a broken, white wing from below.
>As they walked, the blue one's horn hovered the inlaid orbs with an unfamiliar force.
>They climbed the steps to their castle, in the otherwise empty city.  They entered the room of their fellows, the line of corpses behind huddled over, and wept upon.
>The orbs came next, and the other ponies watched the two in worried silence.
>They approached the far window.  The orbs gently met the ground around them, as the white one looked out to the world.
>As she focused, you sensed great strain.  Fear, as well.  She was uncertain, of whatever it was that she was attempting.
>At that moment, the sky burned pink.  Dark gray burned away, as the sun crowned over the horizon.  Once it had risen, she waited.
>Nothing happened.
>You sensed relief in them, then.  Weakened and battered, but calm.
>Ponies walked outside through the door, and went to what windows there were.
>Still, nothing happened.  Not a clap of thunder, not a darkening of the sky so brutal even the stars hid.  The calm brought the other ponies to a resounding cheer.
>Then the white unicorn collapsed, smiling.  The blue one laid next to her, and they both fell to a deep sleep.
–
>You clutch your chest.  Your muscles feeling wiry as you awake, having been upon your knees the entire time, you move to stand.
>In your dreamwalk, the moon mad moved to stand perfectly overhead.  Upon the stones you watched the gems glitter, before pushing yourself up on your walking stick.
>The fair folk left you to your own devices, scattering from you as you moved.
“Thank you.”
>The feelings of hundreds of years, the sense of spirits departed and stored, was a difficult thing from which to recover.  Seeing the people develop in such a short span of time was humbling.
>But the sorrow.  The moment before you left your dream, the two ponies had thought back upon their loss.
>and you had been exquisitely connected to those spirits of the past, when they had.
>And the civilization was still alive.  It had to be; this stone place was fresh, and these idols maintained.
>But, by whom, you wondered? These fairies would not serve enough. They could only maintain the wards and spells that secreted them away.
>Well, bother.  If you had to ask, you'd be sure to get an answer.
>”Tell me, beast.”  A pair of glowing eyes peers at you from the dark behind you, with such power behind them you can feel them.  Cold light, freezing to your core, you give a wave of the stick.  The terror fades, and you turn.
>”What brings you here?”
>The fair folk shudder.  They fear for you.
>You stand strong, one shoulder faced toward her. You stare at her from below the shade of the hood, the moonlight tempering the heat you had built from your dreamwalk.
”Chance and curiosity.”
>”A poor choice of lies, creature.  You walked through our seals, and you have communed with the fairies here.  None have that capacity, in these times.  I ask again- what brings you here?”
“You cannot speak with them?”
>You gesture to the lights around you.
>”What. Brought. You. HERE.”
“... As I said. I do not know.  The moon rose, and I was lost, in need of shelter for the night.  Then, I found this place, and grew inquisitive.  Forgive me, if my knowledge allowed me to overstep boundries of which I was not aware.”
>White, glowing eyes dull.  They squint, and she walks alongside the shadowed wall.  As if her body is emitting an absence, a cloud of stars follows her. As if staring into a scrying pool, you can see starlight within her tail.
>”Show me your face, beast.”  She peered at you.
>You remove the hood with your free hand.  The air is much cooler, and feels far better on your face than clinging to the inside of that heavy cloth.  She looks upon you a long time, unsure of what to say.  Perhaps, she had thought you something else?
>She stepped forward.  Cobalt blue, her mane full of stars so densely packed you wished you could have studied them.  A crescent, surrounded by darkness, rested upon her flank.
>You inhale sharply.
>Just like the visions, she had barely aged.  How long ago, you wondered, had it happened?
>You center the stick in front of yourself, kneeling.  It takes all your strength to avoid touching her spirit; would you find further mourning? Further rage?
>Whatever it may have been, you did not want to taste it.  Not after what had spilled over from the dreamwalk.
“I have never been in a position of this... Magnitude.”
>She tilts her head at you. “What do you mean?”
“I know what you are.  The things you've done.  These...”
>You gesture to the orbs.
>She looks to them.  Then, back to you. “How? Your kind has not been here in my lifetime, and nothing of what transpired was ever recorded.  Certainly not on these walls.”
“Walls have ears and eyes, madam.”
>You hold out your hand. You venture to summon one of the fairies, and one courageous one lands on your palm.
“So, I simply asked.”
>She regards the fairy with a stoic glance.  Her eyes roll back to you, however, as it lifts and leaves.
“Are you going to leave me to my rest? I am exhausted.  And I mean absolutely no harm. Not in a place of such significance.”
>”No.”  She said.  “You are going to come with me.”  Her eyes thin and again begin to glow. “And before you think it, yes. I absolutely mean you harm, should you try to resist my offer.”
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