Gates to Renascence

by Material Defender

IX: Return to Renascence

C h a p t e r 9 :
R e t u r n T o R e n a s c e n c e

“Once we get over this dune, the final stretch to Renascence will be within our grasp,” Kandro shouted. The sandrunner heaved in staggered breaths as the dust storm they had soldiered through began to fade, revealing the faded path they followed amid the grains of sand whisked away by the wind.

Kandro pulled off his protective mask, switching it out with his helmet as he gripped his reins in left hand, the right gripping the hilt of the Blade even tighter. The weapon seemed to vibrate with purpose, knowing that they were riding straight into the heart of the danger that plagued the Empire.

“There, look!” Reugas said, pointing to the sky. The skies above Renascence swirled with chaotic energies, black and twisted as its reach only seemed to spread outward, slowly, as the Trickster regained his power. A chilling breeze stung at their faces as eldritch lightning cracked across the skyline. “Ancestors protect us...”

“Land sakes! We’re ridin’ into that?!” Applejack called out, clinging tightly to Kandro.

“That we are!” Kandro said. They arced over the dune, seeing the tufts of green flanking them on their path as they entered the fringes of Renascence: the fertile farmlands that provided the city with its bounty. The faded red walls of Renascence loomed in the distance, cracked and damaged as flocks of demons crowded at its parapets to strike at the defenders stationed in its towers.

“I can see the eastern gates from here,” Reugas said. “They’ve been barricaded... from the outside. Tiraen must be trying to stop them from getting out.”

“The portal hangs above the Capital Spire,” Artim said. “There is a good chance that they are proliferating from the center of the city outwards, if they are not already able to appear anywhere in the city at will. We can only expect their reach of materialization to expand as the maelstrom grows. Soon they will begin to appear outside the walls, and by that point, the city will have already been lost.”

“Then we must convene with General Tiraen,” Kandro said. Though the city held the greatest military presence in all of the Empire, the peripheries beyond the walls of the city were disturbingly devoid of any life. What few homesteads they had passed as they continued towards Renascence stood eerily quiet, with the exception of one that had been burnt to the ground.

The sight of guardhouses up ahead slowed their pace: the checkpoint had been hastily set up, no doubt to monitor the growing threat when the maelstrom first appeared. The entrenchments had been built facing the city, a mix of heavy boxes and carved spikes to deter any charging cavalry. Signs of a battle were present, with much of the dirt caked in broken shards of steel and dried blood, but with no bodies.

Kandro and his company took in the sight wholly, the ponies balking away from the sight with Fluttershy taking it the worst; the pegasus couldn’t bear to witness the carnage and hid away behind Yhimit. Tehin uttered a quiet prayer for them, and Reugas quietly mentioned the lack of civilian bodies, and that this checkpoint must have been cleaned by Tiraen’s men, else the corpses still would have remained.

They continued on, taking a right turn on the next intersection they approached and rode north, towards the Roaring River and Fort Renot. Two more derelict checkpoints showed that they were on the right path, destruction increasing in factors with flattened barricades and ashes of guardhouses as they continued towards the fort. “I certainly hope Tiraen is still alive...” Reugas said.

“He is a hardy man,” Tehin replied. “He will have entrenched himself within Fort Renot as a last resort.” The mountainous features of Renot grew in the distance, its citadel towering as high as the Capital Spire in Renascence, smoke and fire scarring every level of its battlements. Trebuchets upon the tower tossed projectiles into the air to deter their aerial assailants. “And it would seem that I am correct.”

“What’s the plan once we get to the general, anyway?” Dash asked, clinging to her helmet as she flew above Reugas.

“We ascertain whether or not my mother and her bodyguards are still alive,” Kandro responded. “If they are, then we help them escape. If not... then, we move onto our primary objective: to reach the top of the Capital Spire and seal away the chaotic energies spilling into our world.”

“So how would that work, exactly?” Reugas asked, looking at Dash and her red lightning bolt element chestpiece. “How do these elements function? What kind of magic do they use?”

“Just leave that to me,” Twilight said. “Together, we can use the Elements of Harmony to channel its magic into any form we need them to be. I guess in this case, I’ll have to focus a beam into the sky and hope that it’ll destroy the chaotic magic.”

“You hope?”

“I don’t know, okay?” Twilight shook her head uncertainly. “We’ve... we’ve never dealt with something this serious before. This sort of magic is just... terrifying. It’s like you can feel the evil from it in the air. Nightmare Moon and Discord were nothing compared to this... that’s why I can’t really say for sure that this will work.”

“For all our sakes, it will,” Rarity said. “Have faith, darling, we do have aid, after all.”

“Quiet now,” Artim said, hanging his head low as blackened shapes began to circle above them. He clenched his fists as the sparks of lightning began to dance across his fingers. “Twilight, I need your shield again. We have company.”

“Bloody demons...” Reugas said, notching an arrow and pointing his bow into the air. Rainbow Dash descended, fumbling with her balance as the sandrunner’s tail flicked against her armor, but successfully grabbed onto the ranger’s back. “Not ready to test your mettle, hmm?” he joked.

“I think I’ll pass for now.”

“We are close to Fort Renot now, only a while longer!” Artim said. Casted bolts flashed from his hands into the air above, felling a demon as the electricity spread to its kin. Echoing thumps reverberated against the dome as their numbers increased, ugly maws slamming into the transparent barrier in an attempt to carve their way through.

“There are too many of them!” Kandro said. The route ahead became obscured by the creatures’ black hides and flapping wings, choking out what remaining elements of sunlight that illuminated their passage. “Artim, can you do anything else?” he asked.

“Not unless you’d like to take the fight to them with your sword!” came the reply. The shield began to echo shrilly with the scattered noise of chipping. It began to flash as Twilight screamed with sustained effort, but it wasn’t enough.

“Prince Kandro... is right!” she coughed out. “There’s... too many... of them!”

Kandro, Tehin, and Sehyia preempted the failure of the shield by drawing their weapons right as the bulwark failed. The violet glow separated itself into hundreds of miniature triangles, lines between them glowing with energy still being channeled from Twilight’s horn, and with an ear-shattering roar, parted explosively. The demons screeched with triumph and delved into the opening breach, claws and teeth bared to tear into flesh.

“Shit!” Reugas cursed, loosing his arrows at a blinding pace as the creatures all swarmed towards them.

“I’m sorry, guys!” Twilight apologized.

“Don’t take it too hard, I don’t think any shield could handle this many of them, anyway!” Kandro replied. He drew the Blade, jabbing forward and impaling a demon by its eye around the steel, tossing it aside as he curved around for another strike.

“Oh, no!” Rarity shouted. “Away, you uncouth beasts, away!” Her magic flared around her horn, glowing a brilliant blue before—

“By the First!” Sehyia shouted, blinded by the powerful light emanating from Rarity’s horn. “Rarity! What’s going on?!”

“I-I don’t know! Eee-yah!” Rarity said, unleashing her magical beam and slicing through the air with supercharged energy, obliterating any hapless demon caught in its path with pure harmonic energies. “My goodness! Did... did my element just do that?” she ended, grimacing as meaty bits of dead demon from those who had been caught at the sides of the blast came tumbling down.

“The Elements of Harmony!” Kandro said. “The Elements must be doing something to your magic. Twilight, see if you can replicate what Rarity just did!”

“On it!” Twilight shut her eyes and focused, replicating Rarity’s result. With a shriek of her own, another column of energy, this one a deep purple. The cawing flocks scattered, giving the group breathing distance as they shared in the revelation. “This... is amazing! The Elements are capable of helping us fight!”

“Yeah, for unicorns, maybe,” Dash said. “What about the rest of us? Me and Fluttershy? Or Pinkie and Applejack? We can’t shoot magic beams out of our foreheads.”

“Well, use it again! They’re coming back in!” Kandro said, losing control of his sandrunner as a demon climbed onto its back. Applejack screamed and flailed wildly, striking the demon square in the face with a well-placed hoof to its snout, followed by another sharp snap and burst of light.

“Hold on, Pinkie!” Tehin shouted, his sandrunner evading the rolling body as the mount seemed to huff in amusement. Pinkie squealed in excitement, leaning back and forth as the wind swished through the tuft of mane sticking out underneath her helmet and the length of her tail. “There is a time for cheer, Pinkie, but this is not it! Duck!”

“Eek!” Pinkie reacted, mirroring Tehin’s movements as they both ducked and another demon bounced over them. “Oh, no, you don’t!” she said, reaching over her back and revealing a hidden portable party cannon sticking out of a parcel on her back, blasting a demon point-blank with colorful party accessories. “Eat streamers, you big meany-pants!”

Ahead, Applejack’s random hoof-flinging worked wonders as Kandro’s sandrunner remained protected from behind, with Rarity and Twilight offering their support with their magic. Only Fluttershy, who still clung to Yhimit for dear life, and Rainbow Dash, who did the same with Reugas but with guarded reluctance instead of fear, had yet to join the battle.

“There’s no end to these damnable things, is there?” Reugas said, firing a triplet of arrows into the air and earning himself a trio of kills. “Fort Renot is up ahead! Only a while longer!”

Through glimpses between attacks, Kandro could see the Reugas was right: whoever still remained in the gatehouses must have taken notice of their approach, as Fort Renot’s gargantuan gates began to slowly open. Shadows of figures darted out from the entrance, whisking towards them until he realized that they were soldiers. And not only soldiers... but also arcanists.

“Rangers!” Reugas said, joined by his comrades in the hunt as arrows and lightning around them grew in magnitude. The arriving soldiers, each with a ranger and arcanist on sandrunners, split two and two and curved around, drawing the throng away and dwindling their numbers down before rejoining them at their rear.

“Greetings again, Prince Kandro!” the point rider said, the defenders on the walls taking over the attack as the demons began to peel off and retreat to the skies above Renascence. “You’ve made it back, and just in time, I might add!”

Reugas peered closely at his fellow ranger as they rode alongside each other. “Tyermos? You’re here at Fort Renot?” he asked.

“Correct,” Tyermos responded. “General Tiraen issued a call to arms to all legions west of Renascence after I notified him of your return. No sooner had we all assembled under his command did the demons launch their attack. Even now, the Crown Legion fights tooth and nail to keep control of Renascence while the Western and Southern Legions work to secure its walls.”

“But Fort Renot burns, does it not?”

“Merely the consequence of allowing arcanists on the walls, lord ranger. Their skills are needed to fend off the worst of the attacks. We have already encountered several of the Trickster’s heavy foot soldiers over the course of the invasion, but we are not without our own skilled warriors.”

“Yes, the foot soldiers,” Kandro said, slowing down to traveling on Tyermos’ opposite side. “We’ve already run into one at Tandreat. It was leading the assault on the city. I defeated it myself, but not without considerable effort. How many have you defeated already?”

“Dozens,” Tyermos said, pulling off his mask and hood and looking to the prince with a grim expression. “And we traded that much and more in number for each we killed. Without Emperor Nazhrus’ personal guard able to take the brunt of their attacks at the Capital Spire and the combined numbers of three whole legions to hold the city, Renascence would have fallen the moment the attack began. Captain Ghiraza himself felled at least half a dozen of the monsters.”

“Ghiraza is still alive?” Kandro said, fully surprised though he wasn’t sure whether it was towards the fact that the old captain was still fighting instead of commanding from afar, or that he had somehow survived—and was still surviving—the gauntlet of enemies at the Capital Spire.

Tyermos nodded. “Yes, and his sword hand is still as deadly as it was in his greatest years. Empress Aleyia awaits you with General Tiraen at Fort Renot’s keep.” They passed through the gates as the call went up to begin shutting the heavy doors. Sandrunner claws grinded against the dirt as they skidded to a stop, and Tyermos was the first off his, awaiting Kandro as the group took the time to recuperate. “I’ve been instructed to take you to them.”

“Fine. Time is of the essence. Does General Tiraen know we travel with the bearers of the Elements of Harmony?”

Tyermos scoffed, joined in by the similar mumbles of agreement by his comrades and the arcanists he brought with him. “He knows. He expected more than six neophytes sent with fancy baubles around their necks and armor that would only impede an inexperienced civilian in a field of battle. We know otherwise. Any aid we receive at this point is a godsend."

“He expects too much, to have the Paragon abandon the well-being of her own territories to rush to the aid of ours,” Kandro said, amused at the general’s assumption. “Perhaps we may still persuade him of the effectiveness of the Paragon’s replacements. Take us to him.”

“Does the general even realize that these ‘fancy baubles’ he speaks of are the Elements of Harmony?” Rarity thought aloud. Faint rumbles shook the plain stone hall they passed through, and a shower of dust fell upon them from the ceiling. Kandro led them along, face furrowed in determination as they approached General Tiraen’s war room.

“Yeah, what’s his deal, anyway?” Dash said. “It’s like what that ranger guy said: he’s lucky that he’s even getting any help at all! We already know that the Trickster can summon his guys anywhere he wants, even in Equestria!”

“General Tiraen is a man that demands results,” Tehin said from behind her. “We fight on the same side, but his approaches to solving problems is different from ours. Whereas the Pillars and those fighting in the royal service adopt patience and observation, Tiraen and the legions rely upon swiftness of action with conclusive results.”

“So he expects us to stop the Trickster cold in his tracks?” Dash said. “Or actually, he probably expected Princess Celestia to be the one to stop the Trickster cold in his tracks...”

“Essentially,” Sehyia said. “I’ve never met the general personally, only fought under his command, but he does hold much respect among the legions. He values practicality. Perhaps Prince Kandro can persuade him that we may still have a chance of winning.”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Applejack asked. “He can’t stop us from gettin’ into the city, can he?”

“If he doesn’t believe you are capable of rising to the task, he will order a complete evacuation,” Kandro said. “We will retreat elsewhere, most likely Lherren, where we will plan a defense using whatever we have at our disposal. And perhaps he will arrange training for all of you, in the ways of war and combat magic, I expect, so that when the time comes, you will be suitably ready for the task.”

“So, what, we get trained like royal guards? That ain’t so bad.”

“Your reputation will precede you. Tiraen will no doubt have the finest arcanists, Artim among them, to train Twilight and Rarity in magic, with Tehin and Reugas to head up your physical training.” He paused, then added, “They’ve all trained their fair share of recruits, and they aren’t known for being lenient with their regimen.”

“Training a pegasus to fight?” Reugas said, voice laden with the tone of bemusement. “I don’t think our experience covers that criteria. We don’t even have wings, for ancestors’ sake.”

“Worry about it if it comes to that, Reugas,” Kandro quietly said. Tyermos led them quietly along as they approached a pair of spear-wielding guards, standing vigil at the entrance. They gravitated towards each other, pulling the doors open to let them enter.

“This is my stop,” Tyermos said, stepping aside and giving a bow to him as they entered. “Good luck, my lords.”

“Thank you, Tyermos.”

General Tiraen leaned over the war map, face marred by a scar that trailed diagonally across his patrician face, from his left eye to right cheek. His armor was made of golden plate, accessorized by the cloth he wore above it with the seal of the Empire, white iconography on pure red. He looked up with a scrutinizing eye, the corner of his lip raising in acknowledgement of Kandro’s arrival, between fluctuating from an acknowledgement of authority to the faintest hints of a sneer as the ponies began to fan out with the Pillars.

“Greetings, Prince Kandro,” he said with a gravelly voice, standing and saluting as he looked upon each of the Pillars, then moving onto the ponies with an inquisitive expression. “So, you promised me aid, did you not?”

“Yes,” Kandro replied smartly. “The Paragon has seen fit to send the bearers of the Elements of Harmony here to the Empire, so that we may stop the return of the Trickster before it reaches a critical point.”

“I don’t mean to offend, my prince,” Tiraen said, trailing his way around the table towards Kandro. The gilded sword on his back became plain for all to see: its sheath was nowhere to be found, but the point of the blade hanging away from his back was still stained with demonic ichor. “But this situation has already reached a turning point. These ponies that the Paragon has sent us are not fighters. They cannot be expected to be resilient, ferocious, and unyielding.”

“They have faced evils before. It may surprise you to know that in the years following the Reformation, the Protector of the Night was taken by darkness. Through the actions of these six, only recently was she was brought back to the light.”

“Did they fight through legions of heartless foes to reach their goal?” Tiraen immediately asked.

“Actually... no,” Twilight answered. “But she did try to—”

“Then you are not yet ready to face the Trickster.” Tiraen’s frown disappeared as his expression softened, and he scratched his beard in thought before continuing. “You must understand, Prince Kandro. I am sure you hold these ponies in good faith, but I have men dying out there by the dozens. I will not force them to stay in this city any longer than I have to. We only stayed as long as we did now to evacuate Empress Aleyia and the nobles from the Capital Spire after we finished with the civilians.”

“And what are you doing now?”

“Stalling,” he replied. “Or we were. I received news from the ranger Tyermos notifying me that aid was being sent to us from the Paragon. Only too late did I actually bother to inquire further and learn that it was not the Paragon herself, nor any of her legions. Instead, we get six. Six ponies, all new-bloods to this strife and with nary a hard-fought victorious battle to their own names, not ridden on the coattails of the Empire’s finest warriors.”

“Give us time. We can succeed,” Artim said. “They have shown much promise with the Elements of Harmony already. With the Pillars guiding the way to the Capital Spire, we need only to reach the apex of the palace to deliver harmonic magic to the heart of the maelstrom, and we will have won.”

“I’m not the one you have to convince.” Tiraen folded his arms and looked pointedly behind them, as a woman adorned in imperial robes entered the room. Kandro’s eyes lighted up and he immediately rushed to her.

“Mother!” he said, gripping Aleyia by the shoulders and checking her over for any injuries. “Are you okay? You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“I am fine, Kandro,” she replied, smiling warmly at the ponies. “Oh, I never thought I would see the day when ponies would visit the Renascent Empire. Nazhrus has been adamant in keeping the ponies out of our problems with the magical droughts...”

“We were simply across the mountain range,” Rarity said. “If you required help, I am sure that Princess Celestia would have been more than happy to aid you.”

Aleyia’s smile curved lower, and she sadly replied, “Such is the nature of the Empire. Against something truly as great as the Trickster, who threatens the world, we seek aid, but our own domestic problems that concerns our future as a nation, we simply are too stubborn to yield to common sense.”

Aleyia composed herself, walking around the war map to where Tiraen had originally been standing. With graceful skill, she folded her drooping sleeves, decorated in flowers and golden trim, around her arm, and leaned over the table to point at the Capital Spire. “Your father was buried only several days ago at the palace mausoleum, on the fifth level of the Capital Spire. His procession was somber, and without flair...” She shook her head and withdrew her arm. “We only completed the ceremony when we were attacked.”

“I’m sure if he had the choice, he would have sprung from his coffin and grabbed his sword to fight with us,” Kandro said. “Father was always the magnanimous ruler, unwilling to let his subjects suffer in isolation. Even if he would never agree to letting our saviors help us reclaim our land.”

“Yes, he would have,” Aleyia said, smiling to herself at the recounting of her husband’s character. “But now we hold the Capital Spire to stall time for us.”

“We may leave as soon as possible, Empress,” Tiraen said respectfully. “The arcanists will have certainly finished vacating the Imperial Archives of its contents by now. We can order a retreat and immediately set off for Lherren before we are overwhelmed.”

“Wait, that’s what you were stalling for?” Artim said, stepping forth with a frown and a fire in his eyes. “The Imperial Archives are centuries old! The arcanists need to preserve its knowledge for future generations. Political decrees, economic annals, family trees, and much more! You cannot simply expect the arcanists to leave when you so order. We are sworn to preserve the knowledge of the Empire, and we will not leave a single scroll or tome to ruin at the hands of the Tricksters’ minions!”

“Calm yourself, Artim,” Tiraen said, assuaging Artim with a raised hand. “The Great Library has already accepted our request to house all of the archives. The Imperial Archives have been mostly cleared out, with only several wings of books yet to be relocated. Captain Ghiraza is in charge of the protection detail.”

“Yes,” Aleyia confirmed. “Do what you must to quell the maelstrom. Ascend to the top of the Capital Spire, dispel the chaos, and return to the ground. In the case where you do not succeed, Captain Ghiraza and his men can aid you with your escape from the city.”

“Wait.” Tiraen turned slowly to look at Aleyia. “The Trickster’s influence continues to spread. There is no promise that they will be able to fight their way through Renascence and destroy the maelstrom in time! Once they are capable of spawning within the confines of Fort Renot, it will be too late.”

“But we still have time,” Aleyia replied. She looked down to the map, taking note of the aquatic landmark separating Fort Renot from Renascence. “Tell me, general, how far does their influence stretch?”

“At the moment, they’ve only just made it to the city watch headquarters, in the commercial district here,” he said, pointing to the northern sector of Renascence, right next to the district’s fabled market square. “It has been a while since the scouts have reported in, but with this information, that puts them roughly halfway from the center of the city.”

“Far slower than I had anticipated,” Aleyia said with a nod. “Then we still have time. Go, Kandro, take the ponies and the Pillars. You do not have much time. Find Captain Ghiraza, notify him of your intention to ascend the Capital Spire. Whether or not you succeed, when the beasts reach the walls, we will leave.” She looked to Tiraen. “We will need a staggered fallback through the city. Have the Western and Southern Legions retreat to protect their domains. The Crown Legion will retreat north to Lherren.”

“Where is the Northern Legion, anyway?” Reugas said.

“Watching the north, clearly,” Tiraen stated. “Dire times like these are when we are the most vulnerable. We cannot let the griffons take advantage of that, lest we end up fighting two wars, or perhaps simply one, should the fools re-declare their allegiance to their old master.” He looked at Aleyia with a disapproving glare. “I hope that this plan succeeds. I have men stationed at the commercial district as well as the residential ones adjacent to it, and they are stretched thin as it is trying to maintain Ghiraza’s route of escape. But I suppose your plan is sound, Empress. I will send runners to notify the other legions.”

“Thank you,” she said with a thankful nod of her head. She looked to the Pillars and the ponies. “Do stay safe, all of you. It would be a travesty for the Empire should we lose our finest warriors—” And as she looked upon the ponies, admiring their simple forms, colorful coats and flowing tails and manes, and the resplendency of their armor. “—and our venerated allies.”

“I would spare some men to send with you, if I could,” Tiraen said. “But the majority of the Crown Legion is in Renascence, with the remainder stationed here at Renot. Your path to the Capital Spire should be unobstructed: the main thoroughfare that goes straight from Fort Renot’s bridge to the center of the city is guarded at intervals by checkpoints.”

“That will be fine. Anything else we should know?” Kandro asked.

“Yes, and that particular bit of news is that we’ve heard that there is a new creature that has only just arrived at the Capital Spire. Far larger than anything we have ever fought so far. The scouts tell me its roars made their blood run cold and the earth shook with every step it took. Seeing as how we haven’t had any tremors since it arrived, it must be waiting at the top of the Capital Spire.”

“It would have helped if you had mentioned this from the beginning.”

“I had hoped that you would not be so adamant upon reaching the Spire,” he said apologetically. “But I have a hope—a foolish hope, perhaps—that you will succeed. The creature has taken up residence behind the palace. I have no further information to report until my scouts return, but you will find it there.”

Kandro sighed. “Waiting for us. We’ll deal with that as we come to it,” he said, gripping the handle of his sword. The Blade vibrated in anticipation of the coming battle. “I only pray that it doesn’t see fit to come to us when we enter the city.”

“I’m just saying. If what Applejack said was right, then maybe both me and Fluttershy can help out a bit, you know? I can fly and send some of those suckers packing, at least, keep those flying demons off of your backs,” Dash said, hopping across a crack on the bridge’s cobblestone, avoiding the precarious fall to the flowing river beneath.

“Just make sure to stay out of the way of my arrows and we’re good,” Reugas said, attending to his trio of quivers. A short stop to the armory had ensured that he would be prepared, though he looked to Sehyia with curiosity. “I’ve yet to truly flex my empyrean muscles with the usage of this relic. How does it trigger again?”

“For one, it’s not to be used for frivolous escapades,” Sehyia replied, tone jabbing at Reugas’ normally whimsical antics. She drew her sword, whirling around with a flourish of her ebony skirt, and reappeared behind Reugas with her shimmering blade as his throat. “And it senses it. Knows it. It does not want to be used as a plaything, Reugas.” She sheathed her sword and threw him a haughty look as she stepped ahead of him, looking over her shoulder “Jerrovahn said that the relics were only assigned to the best, because only they could use it. I guess your relic doesn’t seem to think of you as such.”

“What...” He stared stupidly at his bow for a moment, ignoring the snickers that the ponies shared and a hearty guffaw from Tehin. He gripped his bow with both hands, shaking it while grumbling, “I’m the best, you hear? The best damn ranger in all of the Empire! I can place sixteen arrows on the same spot at two hundred paces!”

“It’s all about the professionalism, Reugas,” Artim called out to him. They passed by a row of wooden barriers, erected hastily and reinforced with broken wagons and scrap metal. A pair of distraught soldiers, huddling behind the barricades with their swords and shields, gave them a look of disbelief—at the prince traveling with the Pillars and ponies, the most curious company—as they strolled by.

“I’ve got plenty of... professionalism,” Reguas said slowly. “You just have to not act like a flaming idiot most of the time, right?”

“Uh, wait, my lords,” one of the soldiers said, leveling his helmeted head higher so they could see him. The group stopped, and Kandro turned to look at him. “Apologies, my lords, lady, and... er, eminent ponies, but this route is not safe. The walls have been contested over for the better part of the battle now, and there will occasionally be demonic archers on the parapets, firing barbs down on our positions.”

“Nothing like a fine example of counter-archery to get your blood boiling,” Reugas said approvingly. “Keep your heads down. I will deal with this.”

“I understand, my lord, but if you would—blast, another volley! Take cover!” the soldier shouted, ducking down and raising his shield as a trio of jagged barbs glanced off its scratched paint. Kandro and the others instinctively reacted, taking cover at other unoccupied barricades as Reugas darted forth through the hail, placing himself closest to the walls.

“They’re keeping the gates locked down!” Reugas called out. A pair of bodies, soldiers at the destroyed checkpoint up ahead and the last before they arrived at the gates, were completely perforated with barbs. He gripped his bow with his left hand, nervously tapping it with his right. “Alright, then, my friend, let us see how well you channel the wrath of the empyrean.”

“Reugas!” Kandro shouted cautiously. “What’re you up to?”

“Just performing my job, m’lord!” Reugas shouted back. He peered his head out of the corner, only to suddenly withdraw it as a line of barbs struck the ground, whizzing through where his head had once been. “Ugh, these bastards are sharp...”

“Just give it time, my lord!” the soldier called from the rear, a faint voice attempting to overpower the rapids of the river. “The legion will move to clear the walls eventually! At least, they should. They do it every half-day or so!”

“Sorry, we are a little bit pressed for time,” Reugas muttered to himself. He attempted a second peek, over the rim of his protection instead of the side this time. The walls were quiet for a moment, but then he noticed it: a small dart, fired into the air and growing murderously larger in his vision as he flinched away, falling on his backside as the projectile narrowly missed him.

In his moment of panic, he stared blankly at the barb: it was the size of an arrow, if not slightly larger due to its bulk. Completely black from the head to the nock, it was covered with thorny appendages, designed to inflict maximum pain upon its target and to make removal problematic. The distinct shape, however, made it far easier to track through the air than a normal arrow, and that was what Reugas relied upon: he’d seen the section of wall where the arrow had originated from.

“Reugas! Be careful!” Tehin said concernedly.

“Stow your worries, I have it under control.” The demon archers were accurate, there was no contesting that. He peered his head out again and withdrew it, silently cursing under his breath as he felt his hair stand on end from another passing. “Artim, how good are you with creating decoys?”

“Illusory magic?” Artim asked. “Well, I’m no master at it... merely conjuring an illusion of another is a hard task to master.”

“How hard can it be?” Twilight asked. “You’re only creating a non-physical illusory copy of an individual or object, all you have to do is memorize the details of the implied geometry clear in your mind and the magic will fill in the rest of the work for you.”

“Were it that easy... I think at this point it’s clear that humans are not exactly the sort of masters towards basic non-combat magical abilities as our unicorn counterparts are. Destruction magic, easy to control: you’re focusing on channeling elemental magic to damage your target, a big picture to focus on that doesn’t require intricate thought to manipulate. Illusory magic, though? Quite the opposite. There is a reason why there are whole departments of arcanists dedicated to any art beyond the combat ones.”

“Can you do it? That’s all I’m asking,” Reugas said.

“I’ll try...” Artim flexed his hands, expression contorting into a focused gaze as golden energy began to emanate from his digits. “Let’s see how much easier things work with empyrean magic...”

Reugas tilted his head questioningly as golden light encompassed his body, before a second Reugas pulled itself out of its former host. The ranger fell back in surprise, eyeing the doppelganger before saying, “I should have expected that. Send him out into the open. I think I know where their nest is: the destroyed section of wall on the left side of the gate, but I need to make sure.”

“Alright, then...” Artim slowly waved his hand across the air, moving faux-Reugas out into the open. The report was immediate: a well-placed barb struck the illusion and immediately dispelled its form, but there was a mumbled confirmation from Reugas: he’d found the target.

“Mind giving it another round?” Reugas asked him. Again, they repeated the process and created another illusion as Reugas’ bow began to glow. Runes began to inscribe themselves upon the limbs, and he stored the single arrow he had in the string; the bow responded, creating a thin sliver of empyrean energy that stood the length between the sight and the notching point, to grow in power and lethality as he drew the string back.

The decoy stood and strolled nonchalantly into the avenue, letting himself become a pincushion as Reugas launched his assault. He stood, bow triangulated towards the sight of the wall as he felt a rush of air and suddenly... all was still. The relic was clearly working, as he found, as his sight—painted a hue of muted yellow to his assumption to the object’s affiliation with the empyrean—drifted to the right to catch the impossible: the decoy was motionless waiting for its fate of imminent death, but the barb about to strike it merely... hung in the air.

Action, he thought, was the only catalyst for the sight—the hunter’s sight. Much like how Kandro was a practitioner of the martialsword way through years of study, with procedures and techniques gleaned through old texts, the rangers had their own school. Although the practice of archery was nowhere near as noble as the martialsword’s, the hallowed texts were still there: how the ancient ones fought, their techniques, and the epitome of mastery that a true ranger could be: more than being able to fight blind, or sense their enemies, or fire faster than the waking eye could perceive.

No, the true ranger, at the height of the direst moment, focused on one thing: the pivot upon which every ranger was taught, hammered into their discipline from their time as a recruit and taken all the way with them to their graves. The linchpin of truth that held together that single moment, as the ranger finally released his hand to let nature work its course.

The kill.

So it was with his hunter’s sight that Reugas honed in upon that blotch on the side of Renascence, a crack in the defenses. Within stood not a group of demonic archers, but only one: a hideous amalgam of flesh and bone, similar in form to the creatures that Kandro and Sehyia had fought at Tandreat. The right arm was grotesquely molded in the shape of a barrel, with heinous veins connecting the body to the weapon to propel the barbs with deadly speed and extreme accuracy.

Reugas raised his bow, pulling the string back as the sliver grew into lance of empyrean energy, roaring noiselessly and tearing up the winds around him, beating against the cloth of his hood. His sight’s range was omniscient on the analysis of its target: even though the shape of the archer couldn’t have been more of a speck at his distance, he could see its form locked in the still of the moment, left claw gripping its barrel and its open maw held in an eternal growl.

His fingers went slack, and the world surged back with a rippling howl. So fast the lance had stricken through the air, it had impacted against the unshielded mass of the archer’s body and obliterating all features above its waistline. The deed had been done so fast that as time returned to its normal flow, it seemed like he had never even fired his bow at all.

To Reugas, the sight was a marvel to behold.

To everyone else, Reugas had simply done his job.

“It looks like you’ve got him,” Artim said, casually observing the flash of light in the distance, an ephemeral strike uncommunicative of the significance of Reugas’ act. “Are there any more on the walls?”

“None, as far as I can see,” he replied. He raised a hand to his brow, smiling in smug self-satisfaction at the state of his quarry. “There’ll be no ranger that can match a shot like that for years. In any case, that appears to be the last of them... for now.”

“Still, the speed and skill of that demonic archer...” Artim noted, scratching down notes in his booklet. “Any unaware group would have been slaughtered before they could even react. To think that our ancestors fought against hundreds of these creatures at a time during the Trickster Conflict...”

“I’m not really sure I like the sound of fighting against hundreds of these guys at once...” Dash said.

“Our ancestors did, and they were far better at this business than any of us are,” Kandro said, stepping past them and marching forward on the last of stretch between the next checkpoint and Renascence. “The Pillars and I are arguably the finest the Empire has to offer, yet without our abilities, we are but nothing against the demons and beasts without our relics. Ghiraza has no such boons. We’d best get to him soon.”

“Ghiraza’s not a pushover. He’ll be fine,” Reugas said.

Kandro did not reply, warily stepping forward and circling around the bodies as they approached the gates to Renascence. The titanic doors bore the symbology of the sun shining down upon the city and its denizens, a testament to the endurance of the imperial people. But as they entered the sunless city, he could not help but feel that endurance was slowly being whittled away...

“It’s so cold in here,” Sehyia said, shuddering as she hugged herself with her shoulder cloak wrapped tightly around her. “Damn that Trickster. Renascence should be scorching at this time of year.”

“There,” Artim said, his gaze being the pointer that they all heeded, and they looked to the Capital Spire. The palace sat at its peak, haunted by an ominous miasma that stretched down like spindly fingers attempting to further their reach, grasping and consuming that that fell within its shadow.

“Oh, snap,” Dash said. “That doesn’t look too good...”

“W-we’re going.... to the top... of that?” Fluttershy meekly said. She hung close to Yhimit, who comforted her with a pat of her head. “It’s so... scary...”

“We’ll keep you safe,” Kandro said. The main thoroughfare that led straight through the commercial district was in surprisingly good shape in contrast to the ruin that surrounded it. Far to the side, the city watch headquarters still stood, banners of Renascence hanging from its ramparts still flowing proudly. With luck, Tiraen’s men were still there, and able to keep the roads protected.

He had only put one step forward when the ground shook and toppled the group for their feet and hooves, sending them reeling onto the ground below as the tremor thundered through the earth. A bellow, an issue of challenge, was issued by the behemoth, whose spines could be seen protruding from behind the palace’s topmost domes, behind the living quarters where he had grown up in.

“Ancestors protect us...” Tehin said. “Is the miasma originating from that... monstrosity?”

Motes of red lights slowly shifted around to a stop, fully visible even at their viewing point like ants to a mountain. Only when the luminescence ebbed and swayed slowly, with wisps of miasma congregating around its revealed maw, did they realize that they were not lights. They were eyes, filled with malice and ill intent, daring them to step closer to their doom. Its wings of ancient hide spread wide, and a horned tail of bone and crystal flicked through the air, propagating its miasma to further heights.

“Sweet Celestia...” Applejack said breathlessly. “Is that... is that a dragon?”

“It’s not like any dragon I’ve ever seen...” Twilight said, shaking her head in horrified terror. “It’s... it’s something else now. Even the Princesses in all their years have always had incredible trouble even trying to hurt ancient dragons, but this dragon is...”

“Timeless, beyond the reach of death. Consumed by evil,” Artim answered. He looked to Yhimit, unflustered by the antediluvian creature and with an expression that showed that he did not particularly enjoy the foes they continued to face. “Did the Brotherhood of Free Men have any advice on fighting against this particular foe?”

Yhimit merely drew a finger and pulled it with a slicing motion across his throat. The answer was simple: kill it, but the solution was... less than inspiring. When met with Artim’s returning unamused expression, he merely shrugged and shook his head, clearly unable to draw anything useful from his or his former comrades’ knowledge.

“I take it the Brotherhood never killed any dragons in their time,” Rarity said. “And with good reason. Dragons always keep to themselves, especially the elder ones, far away from any civilization.”

“It seems that wherever they hid, the Trickster has managed to find one,” Kandro said. “And bind it to his service.” He gazed down the road: the thoroughfare sat on an incline, like much of the city, slowly angling itself to the center where the Spire sat, with a roundabout at its base and only one route to rise from.

The levels were discernible through their rising features, clear flat lines inhabited with incorporated domiciles that grew closer and closer to the contours of the Spire as they continued upward. The fifth level sat close to the center, roughly under the midway quarters where Ghiraza and his soldiers normally were quartered at, with the Imperial Archives positioned three-quarters up the length of the spire.

Which meant that Ghiraza and his men were amidst the miasma. “Artim, how much do you remember about the Capital Spire, and in particular, the Imperial Archives?” Kandro asked him, never breaking his sight on the palace.

“Well, for one, they’re near the palace, and... oh.” Artim clicked his tongue and folded his arms in displeasure. “If they’re already in there, I suppose we can count this as catching two rabbits with one arrow. I only fear for the arcanists: we are not numerous. Losing fellow scholars would be a huge blow to Lherren. Books can always be recovered... lives are not so easily replaced.”

“Should we fall back?” Sehyia asked Kandro. “We... we don’t have any experience fighting something such as this. Perhaps we can send a runner to Equestria, perhaps beseech the Paragon or the Protector to aid us?”

Kandro clenched his fist: the temptation to do so was tempting, greatly so, but... they had to try, shouldn’t they? There was no telling that this was the extent of the Trickster’s minions. The evil god could have had far more waiting in the void, eager and ready to pour across the world and plunge it into chaos. But they had a dragon, a great and powerful foe that only the bravest and truly skilled in all of history could ever hope to match.

And although he had faith in the skills and experiences of himself and his comrades, he did not have the faith that they were truly those bravest and truly skilled that the quest demanded. Against the common man and pony, they were the exceptions, not the rule. His father had once told him that the First led his men into glorious battle, trailing on wings of fire and painting the battlefield with majestic displays of martial prowess, a model warrior that spurred his men on to victory. Could he honestly admit that he could do the same?

His thoughts hearkened back to the words Tehin had once imparted to before they began their journey: a boy running around trying to play soldier with wooden swords.

“My lord?” Sehyia stepped forward, lingering close to him. “Are you okay?”

“I am fine,” he said evenly. “Merely weighing our decisions. You are correct: none of us have experience in slaying a dragon. Ghiraza and his men may or may not be alive. Renascence will be sure to fall. And we stand at the precipice of the most important decision ever to determine the fate not of our Empire, but of the world. I can honestly say that I would prefer to run and hide.”

“Then we can,” she said, grasping his arm. Both looked to the Capital Spire. “We can flee, prepare, and turn to face this threat when we are ready.”

“Or as ready as we’ll ever be,” said Reugas.

“Hush!” Sehyia hissed at him. “We gamble with our lives here! Would you rather that we throw away what hopes we and these ponies are to our people? To deliver the Elements of Harmony straight into the hands of the Trickster?”

“If we’re going to die, we might as well get it over with,” he brashly replied. “Be truthful, Sehyia: do you honestly think this is going to be the worst we will get? The Trickster may just as well spread a plague among our people, rain fire from the skies, make us all go mad. We have that chance here, before his control spreads to this domain, to stop him! If we can kill that dragon, or at least distract it long enough for the ponies to finish what they have come here to do, then we can end it all, right here!”

“I’m with the fellow,” Applejack said. “There ain’t tellin’ if we’re ever goin’ to get another shot at this in all of creation. We gotta try somethin’.”

“Yeah, I’m with them,” Dash said with a jab of her hoof. “We got the Elements of Harmony, you know, we can put a solid hoof or two across that dragon’s face!”

“Me three!” Pinkie piped in. “We have to stop the big evil meanie pants before he returns, you know? And I’m getting really bad shivers from this right now, I think my Pinkie Sense is trying to tell me that it isn’t a good idea to start running now!”

“But it’s not like we are out of options here if we flee,” Artim said, entering the conversation with his notes at the ready. “I have these notes. Perhaps we can isolate and study the chaotic magic, perhaps understand how we may better combat them. We can train with our empyrean magic and their harmonies, learning to better wield them in the field.”

“Please, Artim,” Tehin said, strolling up to the arcanist and looking down at him, and more specifically, his notes. “How can we expect to truly study the chaos? The monsters will grow in power, they will travel in packs, and soon, they will be at the doorstep of every township in the Empire, and then the greater world beyond that. And we already have trouble dealing with their foot soldiers, of all things. You have optimistic expectations about how we will counter these beasts.”

“I’m with Artim,” Twilight said, stepping in on Artim and Sehyia’s side. “Knowledge has always been power. And I’m sure together, the both of us will be able to craft a plan that will allow us to capture one of these monsters with minimal risk to ourselves for study and—”

“And how long will that take, I wonder?” Reugas shot back at her. “This isn’t like laying traps for rabbits. These are monsters we are talking about here. They will try to claw, rip, and tear their way out of any prison you can conceive for them, and they may just as well succeed. And it is like Tehin said: they will travel in packs, as if the lesser ones do not already. We will be put at odds simply trying to locate a straggler because they will expect it. They are not fools.”

“If we can examine their behavioral patterns, combined with their rates and routes of progression, we may be able to extrapolate information that could allow us to entrap one with minimal risk to ourselves,” Artim enunciated, interspersing his explanation with an exasperated sigh. “Really, Reugas, this is something that requires thought. We can do this, we just have to be cautious about it.”

“I’ve done plenty of thinking, and I’m thinking that we simply go up that Spire, kill that dragon, and stop the Trickster before he even gets a chance to breathe our air. If you want to scurry and hide like mice, feel free to do so. I, on the other hand, will be taking the fight to that whoreson and fighting tooth and nail to stop every inch of his advance, like a true imperial would.”

“Yeah, no offense, Twi,” Dash said. “But we don’t have Celestia here to bail us out, and it might take days before she gets here.”

“I’m inclined to agree with you,” Rarity said, finally putting her hoof in. “I am not normally one to march headlong into danger, but you must understand: he will be far more powerful if we decide to face him later, and not now. And if my understanding of magic is greater than anything rudimentary, such a powerful being will most certainly regain his magic at an exponential rate once he gains a foothold in our world.”

“See? Even Rarity’s got some sense in her,” Applejack said. “Sorry, Twi, Sehyia, Artim. This one’s just too big to leave sittin’ as it is. They even got a dragon already! You honestly think that guy’s goin’ to just let us waltz right out of Renascence scot-free?”

“Its task is to defend the maelstrom,” Artim said. He pointed at the dragon, then the maelstrom above it as it turned around, directing its attentions elsewhere in the city. “The Trickster would not chance it on the deaths of plebes such as us if it meant jeopardizing his return in any way possible. At least, that is how far my understanding of his intent goes.”

“Yes, but you don’t, do you?” Pinkie challenged. “We don’t leave things to chance, especially not with the evilest evil we’ve ever seen from the other side! That’s for card games and pin-the-tail-on-the-pony!”

“Yes, that is the problem: we don’t know for sure whether this attack will pay off for us,” Twilight snapped back. “It’s better to err on the safe side for once, call in Celestia and all the help we can get!”

“The Elements won’t work without all of us,” Applejack said. “We can’t just do a split on this decision, girls, we gotta make a choice here and now!”

Dash hovered in the air, folding her arms and staring accusingly at Twilight. “I already know which side I’m on: the right one.”

“Well, we have made our own correct decision, and we stand by it!” Twilight said, holding her chin high as she and Dash entered into a staring contest.

The rest of the group devolved into petty squabbling as Kandro witnessed the scene unfold with neutral disposition. There was, without a doubt, the full realization that he was the tiebreaker in this argument: his clout as crown prince—emperor now, meant that they would follow his decision no matter what he decided. The only problem now was deciding.

“U-um... P-Prince Kandro...?” He felt a tug at his arm, and he looked down to see the nervous eyes of Fluttershy looking up to him and her hoof pointing towards the Spire. “Y-Yhimit, he’s...” She made a dainty jab towards the road, and Kandro turned to look at what she had been worried about.

Yhimit had abandoned the argument the moment it had began, and was already a form the size of a pebble, continuing his journey alone to the Capital Spire. As he stared at the back of the disciple’s blood-red robes, he felt that he should, or rather, felt impelled to follow him. Wordlessly, he followed in his footsteps, with Fluttershy left standing in bewilderment until she, too, decided to follow him.

“—and that’s what I’m trying to tell you, that...” Artim stopped, letting Reugas step into the conversation to lambast him. “Wait... where’s Prince Kandro? And Yhimit?”

“And Fluttershy!” Rarity said, looking to her side. With a dramatic flourish of her hoof, she stood on her hind hooves and shouted, “There! They’ve already left!”

“Yhimit’s leading the way, I see,” Reugas said. “Nice to see that he has a good head on his shoulders.”

“So... decision made, then?” Tehin said slowly, unwilling to reignite the sparks of discussion.

Artim sighed begrudgingly. “Decision made,” he agreed.