Chapter 4: A Perfect Moment
Under normal circumstances, there would have been nothing unusual about a pony knocking at the door. But these were hardly normal circumstances and the knocking in question was just as far from normal. Rather than the rapid series of blows hammered against the threshold, it was, instead, a gentle tapping noise, moderate in pace, but as even and precise as though the pony on the other side was using a metronome. To the ponies trapped in the schoolhouse, the knocking was imbued with a sinister quality that sent chills down their spines with the sound of each impact.
Nopony moved. Some had even stopped breathing, almost afraid that the sound of their own lungs would attract the attention of whatever was lurking outside. Even Cheerilee pressed back, desperately trying to keep as many of the students as she could hidden behind her body as she directed her terrified gaze at the door.
Only two ponies did not shrink back. In the center of the room stood Dawn, his turquoise eyes fixated on the door. His body was motionless, muscles not betraying the slightest quiver as he watched the barrier intently. Even though his eyes were fixed on the door, his senses were spread throughout the schoolhouse, the air currents telling him the shape and location of every object within its walls. Experience, both old and recent, had taught him that allowing his attention to be fixed on a single thing would render him vulnerable.
Scootaloo stood a short ways behind the ebony colt. Unlike Dawn, her body shivered in time with the rhythmic tapping at the door. However, her eyes were fixed intently on Dawn's back as she waited to see what he would do. Even though fear threatened to overwhelm her, she didn't forget who her teacher was. This wasn't like watching Dawn while he battled two skilled opponents at a distance. This time, she was in the thick of things with him. This time she could watch. And her gut told her that there was something she could learn.
Finally, after a long sequence, the taps came to an end. The pause in the noise only elevated the tension of the room as everypony wondered where their tormentor had gone. Then, after a brief score of seconds, the knocks resumed, this time trailing along the left-hoof wall of the schoolhouse, with the same rhythmic pattern, but the sound moving down the length of the wall as the one behind it drifted along.
Nothing was visible through the windows at first. But as the knocker passed one, a gleaming silvery light seemed to drift past the window. As the sound progressed down the wall, it passed by each window in turn, that silvery light following along with it.
The foals trembled, their eyes fixed on the wall as they followed the sound's progress. Finally, sound began to fill the room as Sweetie Belle let out a tiny whimper. It was like a dam breaking, suddenly soft, but fearful cries began to pour from the frightened foals, their bodies trembling. Tears were shed by colt and filly alike and nopony would have been in a position to think less of any other if they had an issue with their bodily processes at that time.
Cheerilee was shivering too, tears streaming from her eyes as she watched her class dissolve into a terrified mass. These were her students, the foals she was charged with looking after. They should have been able to look to her for what to do in such a horrifying situation. But she was just as helpless as they were. The only thing she could do was gather as many of them as she could against her and hold them tight while the others pressed in around her.
Again, only Dawn showed no visible reaction to the knocking. His eyes didn't even move away from the door as his other senses followed the sound along the wall of the schoolhouse, now rounding the corner and running across the back. What is she aiming to do? he wondered as the noise slowly traveled across the back wall of the school, right behind the other students, who cried out and shied away from the wall as the knocking passed right behind them. Is this an intimidation tactic or...
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, letting the familiar action send a wave of calm and tranquility wash through his body. As Scootaloo watched Dawn's wings dropped slightly as the muscles holding them up relaxed. The colt emptied his mind and allowed his awareness to flow through him and completely out through the room, his sense no longer distracted by his own efforts to focus it.
And then he felt it...a tiny tremor in the air, in perfect time with each impact against the wall as the one doing the knocking rounded the corner and traced her way along with right-hoof wall, making her way back towards the front to complete a circuit of the schoolhouse. The rippling tremor in the air touched everything in the room and Dawn felt another, smaller tremor bounce back to the wall.
Mapping the room through sound? he wondered, A means of learning about an enclosed environment from without.
Again, the glimmering, silvery light drifted past the windows before the source of the noise reached the end of the wall. Again, an oppressive silence fell over the class. After the seeming assault of noise by the constant knocking, the pause filled the air with an even greater tension as everypony's fear and anxiety rose to fever pitch. A skill that also doubles as an intimidation tactic, thought Dawn, Or rather, a skill that is disguised as a means of intimidating her targets so that they don't realize she's obtained complete awareness of the space. It was easy to believe that the pony behind that intense animosity outside was indeed the one responsible for the knocking.
Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom trembled as they huddled together, their frightened whimpers filling the air. A pair of wings stretched across their backs as Rumble settled between them and pulled the pair close to him, the fillies turning to cling tightly to the gray colt as he trembled along with them. But together, the trio of foals were able to keep their fear from overwhelming them as they drew strength from each other. Likewise, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon also shivered, the pair of them holding tight to each other as they pressed up against Cheerilee's side. All around them, other fillies and colts turned to each other for comfort as the silence began to grow unbearable.
Scootaloo was shivering too. While she tried her best not to show it, the phantom noises moving around the outside of the schoolhouse made her body quiver. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than the press herself tightly against Dawn. However, she knew better than to distract him at this point. If she gave in to her own fears, she could become a hinderance to Dawn, a hinderance that could be fatal.
Then there was sound. Not a gentle rapping, but a sharp pounding against the door. The first impact making it shudder on its hinges. The foals cried out in terror. The first impact was followed by a second, then a third, then silence again. Then, for the first time, a voice outside.
"Little foal, let me in..." The voice was unmistakably feminine, but unusually deep and resonant for a mare. Her tone still had a singsong quality to it that made its taunting nature quite clear.
Dawn opened his eyes and stared at the door again. "And if I don't?" he said calmly, his voice making the ponies behind him descend into silence.
"Then I can't play with you," she said, "And I do so dearly want to play with you. It's been so long since I've gotten to play with a foal. All I've had are so many old ponies who have no idea how to have fun. I want to play with a little colt like you this time."
The sounds of fear from the back of the room redoubled. However, Dawn let out a sigh. "I think you're a little old to be playing games," he said, "Especially since you've already done what you needed to."
For a moment, the voice at the door was silent. When the mare behind it spoke again, the lilting, taunting tone of her voice had faded, replaced with one much more clipped and businesslike. "Aren't you the clever one."
Surprisingly, the change in her tone seemed to partially calm everypony down, as it was now clear that there was another pony on the other side of the door, not some incomprehensible creature that seemed to exist to feed on their fear and anxiety.
"What is it that you want?" asked Dawn.
"Well, I could taunt you by saying that I do want to play with you, but I suppose I'll cut to the chase," replied the mare, "Quite frankly, I'm here to kill you; no one else, just you."
"What?" Scootaloo jumped forward, only to be restrained by Dawn's extended wing. She glared sharply at the door. The back of the room had gone deathly silent.
"It's just as you heard," said the mare on the other side, "It's nothing personal. I'm afraid your coltfriend's head is my meal ticket."
"Why you...!" growled the orange filly, pawing the floor angrily.
"Stay back," said Dawn simply, not taking his eyes away from the door. Scootaloo huffed, but did as she was told. Dawn turned his attention back to the mare outside. "If that is the case, why don't I come out there with you."
"Dawn! You can't be serious!" yelled Scootaloo in horror.
"That's so generous of you my dear colt," cooed the mare, "It certainly works better for me that way."
"Fine then," said Dawn, hushing Scootaloo with a glance, "I will join you outside. But don't expect me to bow my head and die."
"Oh I wouldn't dream of it," replied the mare with a chortle, "Come on out and play with me little colt."
Though there was no further sound, Dawn could tell that she'd already left, waiting outside somewhere for him to come and answer her challenge. He moved towards the door, but was stopped by Scootaloo as she threw her arms around his barrel.
"Don't go out there!" she said, "This is crazy."
Dawn slowly extended a wing and brushed his feathers across Scootaloo's face, the light touch causing her to look up. "It'll be alright," he said, "Outside is where I'm at my best."
Truly, he suspected that the strange mare had no intention of harming anypony other than him. However, the prospect of taking her on in the enclosed schoolhouse meant dealing with the possibility that his own techniques could do serious harm to his classmates or Cheerilee. It was to his advantage tot take this fight to a location where he wasn't likely to hurt anypony by accident.
Scootaloo frowned, but relinquished her hold. Dawn made to move forward, but found his progress blocked by a new obstacle. Cheerilee planted herself firmly between the colt and the door, her expression severe as she looked down at Dawn.
"You're not going anywhere," she said firmly.
"Miss Cheerilee?" Scootaloo was stunned to see their teacher do this.
"Please let me pass," said Dawn.
"I can't," said Cheerilee, "You're my student. I can't let one of my students go out and confront that...monster. I won't allow it."
"You have to," said Dawn gently, "She is not simply going to go away if we wait. Things will simply get worse if she loses her patience and decides to bring the fight in here."
Dawn moved forward. It was a single step. But it was an act in direct defiance to his teacher's will. Scootaloo and the other foals looked on, confused and frightened what was occurring. They could see emotions raging across Cheerilee's face, ranging from anger to overwhelming terror. Her body was tense, drawn taught like a string, on the verge of snapping under the strain.
Dawn took another step.
Something broke. At first, everypony was afraid that Cheerilee was going to lash out and hit Dawn. Instead, her legs gave way and she dropped to the floor, sobbing. Even Dawn was utterly perplexed by the change that came over her.
"Please don't go," she whispered, "You're my student. I'm supposed to protect you."
Comprehension spread across the colt's face. With a soft sigh, he lowered his head, seeming to give in. Hearing that tiny sound gave Cheerilee a faint hope that he would listen to her. Then she felt the feathers of his wing comb through her mane. Her ears picked up the sound of hoofsteps going past her, the door unlatching, opening, then swinging shut.
The last of Cheerilee's strength left her and she slumped to the floor completely, sobbing. She barely even noticed a pair of forelegs encircling her as Scootaloo wrapped them around her neck and hugged her tight. "It's okay Miss Cheerilee," she said, pressing her muzzle into her teacher's mane. Before long, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Rumble joined her. A few seconds later, most of the remainder of the class was swarming over Cheerilee, their warm embraces offering all the strength and comfort to their teacher that they could.
"Ah'm not so sure about this Rainbow," said Applejack as she followed the tug of the rope around her neck, "Even if Pinkie can find Dawn and our assassin in this here soup, there ain't a lot we can do all tied together like this."
"Yeah," agreed Soarin' "We're more likely to get in his way if we find them at this point." The group was looped together, having borrowed Applejack's lasso to form a train behind Pinkie Pie as her inexplicable and unquantifiable Pinkie Sense led them through the fog.
"Just don't worry about it!" snapped Rainbow, "If we're lucky, maybe we can find Dawn before Willow does."
"It's a possibility," mused Red River, "But Willow's greatest strength is her ability to completely isolate her target. If we can prevent her from doing that, even if it is through nothing more than our mere presence, then we have a chance."
"You really think so?" mused Soarin'.
"Yes. Willow is an assassin first and foremost. Her aim is to take her target's life and only her target's life. If something can genuinely impede her efforts to get her mark, then, at the very least, we can force her to withdraw and hopefully find a way to confront her on terms more favorable to us later." As Red spoke, he abruptly stopped, seeing the shadow of Pinkie Pie's rump before him in the fog coming to a stop as well.
Before he could warn the others, Applejack walked smack into his tail, which led to Rainbow smacking into her, followed by Soarin', who was bringing up the rear.
"Red! What in tarnation...?"
"Pinkie stopped," said Red by way of explanation. However, something else was bothering him. The fog was supposed to be so opaque that one couldn't even see their hoof in front of their face. However, he could now begin to make out the outline of Pinkie Pie just ahead of him in the mist. Turning his head, he noted that he could now see the faint shadow of Applejack's stetson behind him. "The fog is beginning to thin."
The others tensed and looked around in confusion. Sure enough, the mist surrounding them was no longer completely impenetrable. "What the hay?" demanded Rainbow, "Are we at the edge?"
"Pinkie, why'd ya stop?" asked Applejack.
"I'm not sure," replied Pinkie Pie, "I was following my Pinkie Sense when I suddenly felt my shoulders prick."
"And what does that mean?" asked Rainbow.
Pinkie Pie shrugged. "Wait and see."
"We don't have time to wait for you to figure out what that means," said Rainbow impatiently.
"No, that's what it means. A pricking between my shoulder means wait and see. We need to wait right here."
While Rainbow and Applejack were talking with Pinkie, Red held up his hoof and watched the way the mist moved around it. "This could be a bad sign."
"Why?" asked Soarin'.
"If the mist is dissipating, it could mean that Willow has finished her work and no longer needs to maintain it."
A chill went down everypony's spines. If that was the case, then it could very well mean that...
"Except..." mused Red as he continued to observe the patterns of the mist around his hoof, "I don't think it's dissipating."
"Don't scare me like that!" yelled Applejack.
"What is it doing instead?" asked Rainbow.
Red River frowned. "It appears to be moving in a specific direction. If I had to hazard a guess, I believe that Willow may have found her target and is reducing the area covered by her mist in order to increase its density. It might very well be the ideal move for dealing with someone who can sense their surroundings through the wind like Dawn can.
"On the bright side, this means that finding our way will be even easier. Not only can we make out our surroundings better, but we can also figure out where the target area is by following the flow of the mist."
"That's great!" exclaimed Rainbow, "Let's hurry! If she's concentrating her mist, then that means Willow found Dawn, or whoever her target is."
Dawn's eyes remained cold as he strode through the dense mist. He could feel it flow around his body. With his wings extended, his magic allowed him to sense the wind, feel the shape and form of everything in his vicinity. The mare responsible for the phenomenon waited patiently for him just outside the schoolyard.
"That took longer than it should've," she said.
Dawn merely shrugged. "My teacher was much more difficult to convince than you were."
"Ah, a teacher's role is to be a protector and guide for her students. But when one of her students must put himself at risk to protect her..." mused the mare, "I can imagine that's an aggravating experience."
"Shall we begin?" asked Dawn.
"Sure. I can understand you wanting to get this over with," admitted the mare, "But I was hoping we could talk some more."
"Is it normal for an assassin to casually chat with her target before killing him?"
"Normally no," replied the mare, walking in a slow circle around Dawn, her movements relaxed, but smooth, like a well-oiled machine, "But you're far from a normal target. Just finding you gave me a lot more trouble than most of my bounties do. And even now, I can tell you might just well be the first pony I can't handle."
Normally, such words might have been encouraging. But to Dawn, they spoke to just how dangerous this mare was and, in spite of her overtly frivolous behavior, just how serious she was. This was not some blind attack, some half-baked scheme. This effort had been carefully planned and orchestrated by her specifically for the purpose of killing him. This was not like his battles against Perlin or Storm Front and Red River, tests of skill and prowess where his life was on the line. This was a deviously engineered trap built specifically for him, one that he would have to figure his way out of. If she wants to talk, then that's fine. I may find the chance to find my own way out of this.
"Very well then," he said, "Perhaps I should begin by asking your name."
"My name is Willow," replied the mare, "I don't normally give it out. I have a bit of a reputation in my circles. But I suppose that a colt like you wouldn't know anything about that."
"That much I can agree on," said Dawn, "It's a bit outside my purview to have knowledge of individual assassins and their work. Perhaps, you could tell me who hired you."
"A legitimate question." Dawn felt the mare shrug. "But any assassin worth the weight of her asking price doesn't give out a client's name, not even under torture, not even to a pony she plans on killing. I may be sure of my kill. But after getting the job done, the biggest responsibility an assassin has is to protect her clients' information.
"But given how rewarding it is to finally track you down, I'm almost tempted to indulge you. I've never had to spend over a year locating my target before."
"I doubt any of your other targets ever thought to hide in the Everfree Forest before," commented Dawn wryly as he stepped into motion himself, moving to circle Willow as she circled him. The two of them now stalked each other through the fog.
"My my, that's a bit frightening. If you'd died in there, I'd never have confirmation of your death and then I'd never have gotten paid." Willow giggled lightly. "I'm certainly glad you made it out in one piece. I'd hate to think I'd wasted over a year of my life for nothing."
"I'm happy to have reassured you," said Dawn, "If, at the very least, while I have no notion of the specific identity of the pony or ponies who hired you, I can at least think of who they are in the general context."
"Oh?"
"The Order of Celestial Light; the Cult Solar hired you to find and end me."
That drew a chortle from Willow. "Well, I supposed it wasn't that hard to figure out. Yeah, I was a little miffed that I was hired by a bunch of pompous idiots for some sort of 'holy task.' They were so sure of their great work that they tried to shortchange me. They only agreed to my usual rates after I threatened to walk away. If this was such holy work, they'd be doing it themselves. But the coin they offered was real enough."
"Good for you, I suppose." Dawn frowned. HIs wind-sense was beginning to get hazy, the outlines of the buildings and objects around them and, most troublingly, the mare before him, were beginning to fade. It was as though the mist was invading his own mind and cutting off his senses completely. "Truly," he said, "No superfluous movements."
"Oh?" Though her image was gradually becoming more indistinct in his mind's eye, Dawn could still sense her raising her eyebrow.
"You haven't been talking simply for its own sake," observed Dawn, "You're stalling for time. I can feel your mist thickening. Soon, even my ability to sense you through the wind will be cut off. Back in the schoolhouse, what appeared to be a simple intimidation tactic and psychological warfare was in fact designed to hide the fact that you were mapping the interior using the echoes of your knocks, varying the location in order to get an exact fix on everything inside. And even before that, you reacted to the touch of my magic against your mist instantly. You knew exactly what to look for, how to find me and how to balance the odds most in your favor. Even now, you've been stalling for time with our little chat."
Willow came to a stop, her body rigid with surprise. Then she began to laugh. It wasn't a taunting laugh, but a chortle of genuine amusement. "You really are incredible," she said, "You've figured me out already."
"I suppose that puts us on even footing," mused Dawn, "You've known what to expect from the very beginning haven't you."
"I had over a year to work with," said Willow, "Even after losing track of you, the very least I could do was learn a little bit more about you...anything to make the kill simpler. So I followed your trail through all those towns you wandered about. I learned about your Master, about the Gale King. I know what you're capable of. Even though you're technically still a novice, you're not the kind of pony I can afford to take lightly.
"But aren't you being a little too relaxed? After all, before long you'll lose sight of me completely and I will be free to strike as I please."
"Maybe so," agreed Dawn, "However, I can tell what kind of assassin you are. Your moment of greatest strength is also my best opportunity."
Again, Willow laughed. "Your Master taught you well I see. I'll have to make absolutely certain then. Even so, the possibility of my failure has never been more apparent."
Dawn's eyes were already closed. Even though it was dangerous, his mind was briefly elsewhere as he recalled the words of his Master, who had prepared him for a situation similar to this.
"Remember, if you follow the Way, you will gain power. If you gain power, you will ultimately end up using it. Power that is not put to use is the same as nothing at all. If you use power, you will gain enemies. Among those enemies will be those who come, not to do battle with you, but solely seek your life.
"The Way of the assassin is different from our Way. An assassin's every action, every thought, every strategy is not to claim victory, but to kill her target. If you follow the Way, you will gain power. If you gain power, you will use it. If you use power, you will ultimately bring the wrath of others down upon you and an assassin may one day seek your life. Given your circumstances, it may be even more likely for you than most. Assassins come in three types. They are the Fighter, the Poisoner, and the Pure.
"The Fighter is not all that different from us. She will use brute force to try and overpower you, or technique to circumvent your defenses. She may be a practitioner of the martial arts like ourselves. But do not be fooled. Even if she approaches you as an opponent, her actions are directed not towards defeating you in battle, but ending your life. This distinction may seem strange to you, but it is very real.
"The Poisoner, true to her name, may very well use poisons. However, don't let the label fool you. The nature of the Poisoner is to end her target's life without ever making direct contact. It may be poison in your food, or it may be a carefully engineered and scripted accident. Her method is designed to circumvent your instincts and defenses by not approaching you at all. Since her actions and approaches are impossible to read, the Poisoner is the most difficult to predict.
"The Pure assassin is perhaps the most dangerous of all, for she is the one most absolutely dedicated to the kill. She may approach you openly on the street or seek you in the dark of night. But no matter what, manner she chooses, you can be assured that her every action, however superfluous or pointless it may appear, is directed towards realizing that moment when she seeks your life. She will lay down her preparations, use them like chains to bind you completely before taking you. Only when she is absolutely certain will she strike. In this sense, the Pure is the most dangerous because she will tailor her methods to perfectly ensnare you.
"Fortunately, she does have a weakness. When she strikes to kill, the Pure assassin puts everything into that instant to seek your life. She gives no thought to defense, no thought to what lies beyond that strike, but only to the moment of ending your life. Because of that, she is vulnerable. In order to defeat a Pure assassin, you must enter into the zone of death and meet her at her strongest, when you are completely at her mercy, for that is the only instant where she shall be truly vulnerable. To overcome death, you must face it."
So this is what he meant, thought Dawn as the mist closed in, now cutting off all vestiges of sensation of the environment around him. It was almost like being underwater. True, he could breathe, but the air was heavy and felt like lead under his wings. With it like this, even taking to the sky was impossible. He'd already lost all sense of Willow, her position, her disposition. She could strike at any instant and he would never see it coming. Even reading her intent was utterly impossible, the fog so completely saturated with it that the intent to kill radiated from every direction, its intensity the same no matter where it came from.
"You've done your homework," he noted.
"I have," replied Willow calmly, "I learned your history, which wasn't easy. I learned about the Gale King, about how it works and how to counter it. I know about your Master, about what he taught you. I even know that you've allowed things to progress like this. This will be the greatest kill of my career."
"Or your ultimate failure," replied Dawn.
Willow did not respond. Dawn could already tell that she'd had enough talk. Her mind and soul were now focused onto the instant where she would take his life, thinking of nothing else, not of escape, not of claiming the bounty that had been levied on his head, but only of the kill. Death was certain, inescapable. She would kill Dawn Lightwing and he was helpless to stop her.
A shudder of fear ran through the ebony colt and he was struck by a sense of eerie familiarity. I've been here before. He remembered the moment well. At the time, he'd been battered, burned, slashed, and broken. Red River had stood above him with the spear raised. Though Dawn still yearned to live, the spear had come down and, in that moment, Dawn had known with absolute certainty that his life was at its end.
Of course, that had been an illusion. But the sensations of Dawn's heart and soul at the moment he had been "killed" were unmistakable. He was seized by that sensation now. He might be unscathed, but he was trapped in this mist, unable to attack, unable to read his opponent, unable to see or sense anything beyond him. And yet, at the same time, he was elated. It seems that it isn't so bad to be here the second time around.
Though his initial instinct was to squash the fear running through him, Red River's words from an earlier time reminded him that it was something he couldn't ignore. "Fear alerts you to danger." Ignoring his emotions wasn't the key. He had to accept and understand them.
Dawn had already closed off his sight. It was of no use to him in this scenario and might even work against him. By closing off one sense, he was able to perceive what his other senses told him with greater clarity. Suppose what would happen if I closed off more. His ears folded flat against his head. He turned his attention away from anything he could hear. Willow's fog distorted direction anyway. Any sound he picked up now would merely be a distraction. Taste was of no real use to him at this point either, so Dawn drew his awareness away from the feeling of his tongue. At that moment, he could understand the feeling of touch with incredibly clarity. He could feel the eddies and whorls of the mist against his feathers and fur. But they too were a distraction. With only a slight bit of hesitation, Dawn drew his awareness away from the sense of touch. Even his sixth sense, that mysterious perception that comes with practice and experience, was abandoned. With that, he was completely cut off from the outside world.
It's amazing, he wondered, the clarity that comes from casting it all aside.
It was a feeling that Dawn could not describe. In a way he couldn't articulate, he was aware of everything both within and without. He was aware of his feelings, his fear at the prospect of death, his anger at being hunted for something he could not help, his desire to live, his love for his friends and family who had given him a reason to strive to live. He knew it all. He understood everything about himself in that single perfect moment.
That was what this was, a perfect moment. Here, confronted with the greatest crisis of his young life, Dawn realized he had reached a heretofore unknown pinnacle in his own development. An indescribable elation filled him. Ironically, as his thoughts turned to the pony who was behind this, who sought his life, Dawn realized it was because of her that he had reached this point. At that moment, what he felt was not anger or hatred, but gratitude. More than all the tormentors of his past, more than Red River and Storm Front, more than Perlin Bluestreak, she had brought him farther than anypony ever had. It was though he had gained untold years of experience in a single instant.
For in that moment of pure and perfect clarity, Dawn perceived everything. He sensed the strike come. He felt death reach for him. Dawn moved forward, straight into death's jaws and struck in turn. At that instant, his fate was decided.
The mist's movement had quickened. The air around Rainbow and the others was almost completely clear now, with trails of fog whipping in the same direction like silvery snakes. Their way now clear, the group broke into a gallop, with Rainbow and Soarin' taking to the air to survey the situation from above.
"I can see it," Rainbow called down to her friends below. The mist that had, at one point been completely enshrouding Ponyville was now condensed into a single dome, its edge just abetting the schoolhouse. It was, at most, a dozen meters across. At that level of concentration, it seemed almost solid. Rainbow was amazed it hadn't simply condensed completely into massive droplet of water.
That's where Dawn is. She was certain now. Rainbow dove down towards the dome, heedless of Soarin's cries of warning behind her. She prepared to dive through it. However, her hooves impacted the orb of fog, sank in, and stopped. Rainbow felt a sensation like pressing her hooves into foam. She rebounded off as her momentum was reflected. She nearly spun out of control, but managed to reorient herself. 'What the hay!?"
"Don't be an idiot," snapped Soarin', swooping down to hover beside her, "Who knows what might've happened. You need to think before you just dive in."
Being chided by an actual Wonderbolt, her coltfriend no less, who was speaking with the voice of experience, took the wind from Rainbow's sails and she slumped slightly. By this point, the others had arrived along the ground and were standing at the edge of the dome of fog.
Red River prodded it with his hoof, but was met with the same resistance that Rainbow had felt. "I never thought that pegasus magic could be used in this way," he said, "This is something closer to a full on barrier."
"Like Twi's forcefield?" asked Applejack.
Red River nodded. "She's completely contained and isolated the space within. It would take tremendous force to break in."
"Can ya do it?" asked Applejack.
"I can try," replied the azure stallion, motioning with a forelimb for them to stand back. He reached over his shoulder and drew his spear, snapping it out to its full length in a single smooth motion. He stepped forward, lowering its point towards the ground so that its shaft stretched diagonally across his back. His other forehoof smacked the ground with surprising force, a palpable tremor passing through the earth around him, forming an extension of his awareness across the ground, stretching to within the fog.
Within, he could feel eight points of contact, two ponies, their bodies positioned to face one another, one small, one large. It was obvious who was who. Red River began to shift his aim as he targeted the larger pony. He took a deep breath.
Applejack and Pinkie Pie, who had been standing closest to Red suddenly felt the world tilt, as though they were suddenly standing on a downwards slope, as though down itself was now oriented on Red River. The earth beneath their hooves almost seemed to buzz as Red River drew its power into himself, drawing it through the roots of the seed within that he had planted and tended, before gathering it at the tip of his spear.
The spear itself began to gleam as the power gathered. The azure stallion's entire body tensed, coiling like a spring as he drew in yet more power, preparing to launch the spear into a thrust that could pierce through almost anything.
A shadow swooped in from above. Storm Front had arrived and now hovered above the dome of fog. A single glance was all he needed to know what was happening. He took in Red River's stance and, through the gift of his own experience and long partnership with the other stallion, immediately pinpointed the line of Red's attack.
Storm let the meteor hammer dangle out from within his sleeve. He began to twirl it about, infusing it with his magic. As the meteor hammer's movements gained momentum, they gained power, power that merged with the air around it, gathering the air and spurring it into motion. As Storm Front continued to twirl his weapon, he created a miniature whirlwind at his side. All that gathering power, would be launched straight down at the same target in an instant.
Other ponies had already noticed the change in the fog and the formation of the dome outside the schoolhouse and were gathering. Pegasi from the weather team, including Flitter, hovered above Storm Front and waited. Earth ponies and unicorns assembled near where Red River stood, watching as he prepared to strike.
Red smacked his forehoof to the ground again, sending another tremor along the earth and feeling the return. Only seven points of contact this time. One of Willow's hooves had left the ground, most likely to draw a weapon. He tensed and prepared to strike. He knew that her focus would be entirely upon Dawn, that she would give everything for that fatal strike meant to take the colt's life. Breaking through the barrier of her mist was insufficient. To stop her, he would have to ensure that his spear struck true. He would have to ensure that he killed her in the first blow. He sank into his crouch just the tiniest bit more, the prelude to his strike...
...And faltered. Red River's spear hesitated the tiniest bit at the critical moment, for something he had sensed from his probing tremors had given him pause, and disturbed his determination. And so, his spear froze on the verge of its strike.
That crucial hesitation cost Red River his moment. Within the fog, the two figures moved as one. A loud crack filled the air, an echoing snap that made everypony around the dome of fog jump in surprise and fear. From where she watched at the schoolhouse's threshold, Scootaloo felt a thrill of terror run down her spine at the sound. Without thinking, she launched herself off the schoolhouse's porch and charged the dome of fog. "Dawn!"
Even as she did so, the dome seemingly exploded, the condensed mist bursting outwards like an exploding bubble, washing over the assembled ponies, many of whom cried in panic, certain that they would be enshrouded in the impenetrable veil of the fog once again, only for their panic to ease as the mist began to lift almost immediately, dispersing and drifting away.
The ponies of the weather team, noticing that the fog was no longer as intense, began to beat their wings to clear it. Raindrops was amazed as she watched the fog, which had proven completely untouchable to pegasi earlier, dispersed within seconds. Storm Front quickly altered the path of he swing and began using the wind he'd gathered with the meteor hammer's movements to produce a gust that assisted in driving back the fog.
Red River, instead of thrusting, drew back and slashed his spear horizontally, releasing his power along its entire length, creating a gust of his own that drove the fog in front of him away, clearing out the space where Dawn and Willow had been standing. As he looked, his eyes widened at the sight before him...