“Doctor, what is going on?!” Arthas called out, keeping his eye on the conjured body of Illidan.
For the moment, it was content to just put more pressure on the Warglaive of Azzinoth he was blocking with the Holy Avenger, trying to overpower him, but Arthas knew it wouldn’t stay like this for long. Not if it was anything like the real Illidan.
And he was right. Shortly after he finished his question, the image brought its other warglaive in a horizontal slash, aiming at Arthas’ head. With his sword blocking Illidan’s right blade, he had no way of reflecting the strike. Not wanting to give the conjured image any ground and let it continue with the next attack, Arthas crouched, letting the warglaive pass over his head. Before his opponent could react, he released his hold on the Holy Avenger with one hoof, and, pleading the Light for help, pointed at Illidan. A blast of golden light struck the image right in the chest. Its face twisted in pain as it let out a silent, wordless grunt of pain as the conjured image was sent hurling backwards.
As they clashed, Arthas was dimly aware of Doctor Thaumaturgical answering his question. “I… I have no idea! Something must have gone wrong… what is that thing?!”
Unfortunately for the unicorn’s curiosity, Arthas just couldn’t spare the time it would take to explain it. The conjured Illidan had quickly recovered, spreading its wings to stop itself in the air barely a foot away. Arthas grabbed his blade again with both forehooves, preparing for it to come at him again.
The brief second when the two lights hidden behind the ethereal blindfold was the only warning he got.
As a powerful beam of energy shot from his eyes, a barrier of Light’s protection wrapped around Arthas, shielding him from the magical attack. “It’s not fel magic, but arcane,” he noted, grunting from the pressure in his head sustaining the shield caused. “Makes sense, it’s powered by that crystal. It’s a good thing, too; there’s no way this conjured image can be as powerful as Illidan was, not when its power comes from one crystal.”
But, if that was the case… why was Arthas struggling against it?
Pushing the thought away, he called out to Doctor Thaumaturgical: “Nevermind that! Are you sure your Examining Band works?!”
“Yes! W-well…” the doctor hesitated. “Seeing how my Proving Grounds is malfunctioning…”
“Great,” Arthas thought, realizing that he couldn’t risk assuming the band still worked.
Meaning the only way of dispersing the image was to defeat it.
Dispersing the shield as the fake Illidan ceased his magical attack, Arthas lunged forward, planning to slash open his opponent’s chest in a similar manner as when he had fought the real one. The image, however, had already dropped to the ground, and also lunged at him. Their blades clashed, the conjured Illidan’s strength matching equally with Arthas’, even when empowered by the Holy Light. Grunting, the paladin brushed the Warglaive of Azzinoth aside, bringing the Holy Avenger to deflect the other warglaive and attempting to drive it across Illidan’s torso. The conjured image, however, effortlessly moved out of the way, drifting off to the right, raising his warglaive as he prepared to strike. Seeing this, Arthas let his attack continue, changing it into a pirouette and using the force he put into it into defense. Successfully blocking its blow caused the image to stagger backwards, giving him an opening. Without any hesitation, Arthas brought his blade down, pointing it at its chest, about to thrust through it.
A powerful force threw him away as Illidan, spreading his wings, released a blast of arcane energy around him. Despite his armor absorbing most of the damage, Arthas grunted in pain as he rolled on the ground. When his body stopped, he hurried to stand up, despite feeling dizzy. The copy of Illidan, however, wasn’t upon him. With his wings keeping him hovering above the ground, its warglaives strapped to its waist and hands waving symbols in the air, it was casting a spell.
“Good,” Arthas thought, letting the Holy Avenger disappear as he gathered more strength from the Light, “using Illidan’s spells should drain the crystal’s power far quicker than simply exchanging physical blows.”
A thought occurred to him the next second, disrupting his concentration: was that how he was going to win this fight?
Snapping out of it, Arthas watched as the copy of Illidan released a barrage of powerful magical missiles, all surging at him. Unsure if one or two of them wouldn’t harm the doctor and damage the machine (as currently they were only a few feet behind him), the paladin stood up on his hind legs and channeled the power of the Light through his outstretched forehooves. A barrier appeared in the small area around him, big enough to shield Doctor Thaumaturgical as well. It absorbed the force of the barrage, deflecting all the missiles one by one as they smashed into it. Again, it caused an unpleasant pressure in his head, but Arthas could still easily sustain their protection against attacks like those. With his forehooves glowing brightly with the Holy Light, he waited for the barrage to end, while at the same time wondering what he could do next.
“The real Illidan and I were evenly matched when it came to melee combat,” he thought, recalling their fights. “And with the image’s power coming from the Nadire Crystal, its spellcasting abilities were very hindered. Illidan might have been a superior spellcaster, but I should be able to hold off this copy’s magic attacks with the aid of the Holy Light. I had done that with both Chrysalis and Sombra, after all…”
But a part of him… didn’t want to. It has been so long since he had a real sword fight. In fact, aside from sparring with his paladins and Wind Reaver, the only real fight he had since he was returned to life as a pony was with Sombra. when he assumed the form of his old self. True, he had been partially at fault in that; he should have grabbed some blade when he had began his fight with Chrysalis. Or demand that duel he had with Prince Blueblood’s representative be done with swords. He had almost forgotten how alive one could feel with sword in hand - or hoof - and battling a dangerous opponent.
If only he wasn’t now facing the copy of the single most dangerous opponent he had ever faced, with this invention malfunctioning and when he should be getting to a party with his friends, he would find this situation quite enjoyable.
“Even if I would want to keep my distance and make it use up all of the Nadire Crystal’s energy, I don’t think it would go with it,” Arthas thought as the intensity of the barrage lessened; he expected the image was about to either rush at him or gather its strength for a more powerful spell. “This copy fights exactly like Illidan had. It will prefer to fight in close combat. In that case, the fastest way to disperse this conjured image would be to simply defeat it.”
The attack had ended a few moments after Arthas had finished planning his strategy (assuming, of course, that just “beat him in melee combat” could be considered a strategy). Behind his barrier, he saw the image of Illidan once again drop to the ground. Letting it disappear, Arthas summoned the Holy Avenger again.
The conjured Illidan came at him swifter than he had expected. Arthas barely had the time to raise his sword and place one of his hind hooves slightly behind the other for support as Illidan rushed at him. Blocking a frontal slash from both warglaives and enduring the force of the blow without being pushed backwards, he realized that this wasn’t just a melee attack. Blue arcane flames had engulfed the fake Illidan, just how green fel flames had covered the real Illidan back when they had fought. And just like then, the sheer heat generated from them, even without any direct contact, made Arthas grunt from pain and squint his eyes.
Unlike before, however, there was something he could do to minimize the damage they were causing him. Taking a step backwards and letting the image of Illidan continue attacking, Arthas took a calming breath, then exhaled, reaching for the Light. As he blocked and deflected more strikes of the ethereal Warglaives of Azzinoth, he let the Light fill his heart and then his body, and the pain fell back before it. Now he was going to be alright, as long as his flesh wouldn’t be actually burned by the flames. The pain would still be reduced, though, as long as he stayed calm. He would require healing afterwards though.
With the advantage the image had over him removed, Arthas stopped just being on defensive. Deflecting the slash from the right warglaive and stepping sideways to the left, he lunged forward, bringing the Holy Avenger to Illidan’s exposed waist. The image, however, was quick to turn right, and partially blocked his attack with his wide weapon, and partially dodged it, jumping in the air. Turning the blade around in his hooves, Arthas followed with an uppercut, just as the fake Illidan slashed downward. Their weapons clashed, creating golden and blue sparks as the forces empowering both of their attacks collided.
The shock of the clash forced both of them back, only to quickly regain the balance and resume their fight. “It might not be able to use magic to the same level as Illidan had, but its physical strength and abilities are nearly identical,” Arthas noted as it parried his slash with the right warglaive and attacked with the left, forcing him to quickly block it. “And unlike Illidan, it won’t pause to talk during the fight. Unless I can manage to force an opening, this could take forever…”
After parrying another strike, Arthas decided to take advantage of his smaller size and slashed at the fake Illidan’s legs, expecting the image of the demon hunter to raise into the air. The conjured image, however, crouched slightly and blocked the attack with his warglaive, taking Arthas by surprise. Having not expected such course of action, it took him a split second longer to react to the second warglaive, with which the image of Illidan thrusted at him. Not having the time to push the first blade away and bring his Holy Avenger to deflect it, Arthas was forced to tilt his body slightly, letting the Warglaive of Azzinoth graze him as he backed a step.
His armor stopped the blade, but it now bore a long mark across the chestplate and right pauldron. What was worse, however, were the flames. The enchantments on the armor stopped them from harming him, but it was singed now, and the blue flames had been right before his face for a brief heartbeat. Momentarily blinded, Arthas had no choice but back further as his eyes readjusted to the level of brightness.
It didn’t appear as though the fake Illidan was going to allow this opportunity to slip. It turned around, slashing with his warglaive at the space where Arthas’ head had been. He managed to dodge it despite his hindered sight, crouching to the ground. Letting go of his blade, he dropped down back to all fours, and wrapped himself with Light’s protection. As Illidan’s image was about to plunge both of his weapons into his back, Arthas lunged, using all the strength his four earth pony’s legs could muster, and bashed his head against the image’s exposed belly.
The force of the impact had once again sent the fake Illidan flying back, but Arthas, knowing that he would quickly regain his balance and stop himself, hadn’t finished. As the barrier that protected him from the blue flames dispersed, he raised both of his forehooves and began chanting an exorcism prayer. He poured all the power the Light could grant him into the conjured image, making it roar silently in pain as its body was illuminated by the Holy Light. Its radiance eclipsed the blue flames’ glow, making it appear as if the image of Illidan had been lit on holy fire.
Arthas continued chanting the words of the exorcism, as he wasn’t certain if he could perform it on Illidan with willpower alone, even if it was just a copy of him. He doubted this would be enough to defeat it, but all the damage it would receive would slow him down, giving him-
An explosion of arcane energy, far more powerful than the one the image of Illidan caused before, hit Arthas, stopping the exorcism. He was thrown backwards again, this time several feet further. He was also in more pain than before as well. However, he got up as swiftly as before, ready to continue the fight.
“Just like with Illidan, it uses its fury to empower his spells,” Arthas noted as asked the Light to wash over him and heal his wounds. “If it was capable of speech, it would have probably roared loudly before unleashing the blast, which could have warned me. Might tell the doctor later about this design flaw.”
Turning his attention back to the conjured Illidan, Arthas realized that it had recovered from the Light’s exorcism far quicker than he had anticipated. It was already standing firmly, dark blue energies swirling around its hands as it pointed at him. A stream of ethereal energy shot from its hand, coming swiftly at Arthas. Unable to dodge or ask the Light for protection in time, his only choice was to summon his Holy Avenger and use it as a shield.
His sword intercepted the magical attack, sparing Arthas from the worst effects of the spell. Despite it, he still felt it shake him down to his very soul. It was almost as if a thousand needles pierced him and then they were grinding deeper into his weary being, tearing him apart.
“I don’t want to know what would have happened if I were hit directly,” Arthas noted, shaking his head as the sensation passed.
Shaken a bit, he stood up firmly on his hind legs, sword in both forehooves, as he readied himself for the next attack. Right in time, as it seemed. The image of Illidan had once again rushed at him, the right warglaive held before him while the left hand held the other behind him, intending to swipe it at him the moment they came to contact. Still not fully recovered after the being hit by the last two spells, Arthas raised his sword higher, preparing to parry the first blade and dodge the next one.
That was not what was about to happen, though.
Less than a second before they would engage again, the fake Illidan stopped, a mere two feet away from Arthas, turning around at the same time. Arthas heard a clang! of blades clashing, but Illidan’s huge body blocked the view of what had happened. He did notice, however, that the image strapped the left warglaive by his waist and grabbed something with the free hand.
Something that was emitting choking noises.
All that had happened in a shorter time than it takes to draw breath. Normally, Arthas would have taken advantage of his opponent being practically turned with his back to him - although it appeared that the image intended to turn around, possibly to hurl whoever he was holding at him - and rescue whoever came to his aid. However, before he could as much as take a step forward, something grabbed him and lifted him up, dragging him through the air away from the conjured image.
“What the-” he began to ask, but was cut off as he was unceremoniously dropped on the ground, after crossing maybe fifteen feet. Now more annoyed than surprised, he rose, searching for another ‘rescuer’.
She was sitting beside him, breathing heavily.
“Damn, you’re a heavy bastard,” the dark purple bat pony complained, flapping her wings carefully as rested.
Arthas blinked, surprised. “Who are you-” he began, but then remembered that somepony else must have distracted the fake Illidan earlier. “The other-” he started, turning to the conjured image, but at the same time he heard a quiet puff sound and some smoke appeared on his other side.
“Why do I feel like I’ve been the bait?” another bat pony, this one dark blue and a stallion, glared at the first one while massaging his throat.
“Oh good, you’re learning,” the mare replied nonchalantly, fixing a lock of her mane.
Arthas looked from one to the other, confused by their sudden appearance here. He was not used to seeing bat ponies when they weren’t guarding Princess Luna (aside from the memories she had showed him). Seeing two of them in Ponyville, without the armor they usually wore, was unusual to say the least.
Instead, both were clad in some sturdy looking black clothing, resembling a mix between a uniform and actual armor, with the mare’s being a little lighter. Aside from that and the coat color, there were a few more minor differences between the two. The stallion appeared younger, maybe in his early twenties, while the mare seemed to be around thirty years old. Judging by her calm demeanor and earlier comment, she was also more experienced, too. She had a single dagger strapped to her waist, while the stallion held two, one in each forehoof.
“Who in Light’s name are you two?” he finally asked, momentarily forgetting about the fake Illidan.
The stallion quickly sheathed his daggers and saluted. “Lieutenants Nightcrawler and Tempest Void, nightwatchers of the Night Guard, assigned to Ponyville, Sir!”
“Nightwatchers?” Arthas repeated, confused, but he shook his head, losing interest as he remembered what exactly the two of them had interrupted. “Nevermind that,” he said, turning back to Illidan’s image; it again held both warglaives and was running towards them, “it’s going to attack again!”
“Your profile suggested you’d be smarter,” the mare, Tempest Void, commented. Taken aback, Arthas glanced at her. The bat pony was pointing at the circular line in the ground that was right before them. “Doctor Traumatological said this thing can only move in the training field.”
Arthas looked down at the lime marking the edge of the training area. Truth be told, he had completely forgotten that the doctor had mentioned that before activating Proving Grounds. “He also admitted that his invention is malfunctioning…” he pointed out in defense, looking up at incoming conjured Illidan.
Unsure whether it would really work as bat ponies expected it or not, Arthas preferred for them all to back further away from the line. The image was still far enough to not grow alarmed, but just as he motioned for the nightwatchers to get up, the image of Illidan stopped, and threw one of his warglaives at him.
More due to instinct than precaution, Arthas tackled Nightcrawler, who was sitting closer to him, to the ground, yelling a warning to Tempest Void. A second later his cheek began to burn as the blade scraped it, leaving a shallow cut, proving he was right to do so. However, Arthas had no time to celebrate being right, as the warglaive, still flying, turned around after wounding him, returning to the fake Illidan.
Tempest Void was in its way.
Cursing, Arthas turned to the other bat pony with healing prayers at the back of his tongue, expecting to find her grievously wounded. To his shock, however, Tempest Void was nowhere to be found. In her place was now a pony-sized cloud of purple smoke. Arthas blinked in surprise, sensing shadow energies from it, but before he could react in any way, the smoke formed back into Tempest Void.
Deciding he could sort this out later and noticing she was holding her side, Arthas asked: “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, just a scratch,” Tempest Void replied, keeping her eyes on the conjured image. “Guess that invention has even more bugs than we assumed.”
As Doctor Thaumaturgical, still tinkering with the control trying to fix it, voiced his protest to the comment, Arthas pondered briefly what exactly she meant.
“We can talk about this later,” he said after a second, turning his attention back to the fake Illidan. The image had caught the warglaive and strapped both to his waist, and was now standing in the distance, gathering strength for his next attack. “More importantly, it would be best for you two to leave this to me. It’s too dangerous for- That was fast!” Arthas exclaimed when, after turning to the bat ponies, he realized that they were nowhere around him, and were waving at him from beside Doctor Thaumaturgical.
“Do your best, Sir!” Tempest Void called, her expression serious while Nightcrawler smiled awkwardly. “You got this!”
Arthas tilted his head, confused by the display, but quickly shook it off as he turned back to the image of Illidan. Just as it had been gathering power, he opened himself to the Light fully, asking It to aid him in this battle with Its holy power. The Light gathered in him, giving him Its blessing and strength, and when Illidan, his body crackling with arcane magic, came at him, Arthas, the Holy Avenger in hoof, met him head on.
The fire exploded around them as two fighters, one with wings leathery and ethereal, the other feathered and holy, clashed.
“That’s weird.”
Nightcrawler glanced at his partner. “Which part specifically? And shouldn’t you do something about it?” he added, nodding at the wound at her side he could see through her torn up uniform.
Tempest pressed a hoof to the wound. “It’s a shallow wound,” she replied, then showed him her hoof. “See?”
Indeed, there was only a little bit of blood on it, despite her bleeding for a few moments now. Seeing she had convinced him, Tempest brought her hoof to her muzzle, licking the blood. Shuddering uncomfortably, Nightcrawler turned away.
Giggling, Tempest added: “But if it bothers you so much…” Shadows enveloped her hoof as she again pressed it to her side, mending her wound. “Back to what I was saying… Doesn’t Sir Lightbringer’s ‘empowered form’ mentioned in the report look different?”
Frowning, Nightcrawler focused on the paladin. He was fighting this bizarre conjured image, having empowered himself with the Holy Light. “She’s right,” Nightcrawler realized, blinking. They both had read the reports detailing Sir Lightbringer’s abilities, and knew that when he would amass such amount of power, his entire body would transform into pure Light, with the shape of an alicorn. He had done that both in his fight with Queen Chrysalis and King Sombra.
Why, then, now as he faced something apparently as dangerous (if not more), he was still an earth pony, albeit glowing with the Holy Light, and two huge Light-made wings?
“Could this be some other form or something?” he asked Tempest; after all, she had a better understanding of such powers.
“I don’t know… in any case, Sir Lightbringer doesn’t seem bothered by it,” she noted, crossing her forelegs on her chest.
She was right; the paladin was completely focused on the fight, parrying strike after strike and attacking whenever he had a chance. As Nightcrawler watched, he noticed that Sir Lightbringer’s attacks seemed to have more strength behind them, often pushing back the conjured image’s blades. He also didn’t seem bothered by wings; they didn’t hinder his movements whenever he would turn around or dodge. They would also flap, as if he was helping himself move around with them. Nightcrawler wondered if he would be able to fly with them.
“It would appear to be some form of manifestation of the amount of holy magic he had gathered in his body,” Doctor Thaumaturgical spoke up, making both bat ponies turn to him. “Fascinating.”
“Doctor Thaumaturgical, if you don’t mind me asking,” Nightcrawler began, now relaxed when it looked that Sir Lightbringer was going to beat that thing, “why did your Proving Grounds conjure… that?”
“Ah yes, that is most puzzling,” the unicorn replied, turning away from the fight and resuming tinkering with Proving Grounds’ controls. However, the only effect it seemed to have was cause a small electric-like charge that shocked him. Frowning with annoyance, the doctor continued: “The device should only be able to conjure images of creatures that had been recorded in its databanks. Seeing how that’s not what had happened, and that this creature is something I am fairly certain nopony in Equestria ever saw, I would hazard a guess that the main source of malfunction was the Examining Band.”
“Examining Band?” Nightcrawler repeated, frowning. “You mean that bracelet thingy you asked to Sir Lightbringer to put on?”
“Yes, that- um,” Doctor Thaumaturgical stopped, frowning at both of them, “how long exactly have you two been here, Lieutenant?”
“We’ve been assigned to Ponyville for some time,” Tempest replied before Nightcrawler could. She didn’t turn to the doctor, still observing the fight. “Since nothing is going on around the town, we came to see Sir Lightbringer test your device.”
“We’re… pretty bored,” Nightcrawler added to the explanation, smiling with embarrassment. “The only exciting thing that had happened since we’ve been here was a zebra shooting that changeling princess, and the situation was handled without the need for our intervention.”
“We would have stayed out of sight today as well, if Sir Lightbringer hadn’t been in trouble,” Tempest added, shrugging. “Nightwatchers of the Night Guard aren’t exactly supposed to…” she trailed off before frowning and whispering: “what?”
Worried that something had happened to Sir Lightbringer, Nightcrawler quickly turned his attention back to the fight. A moment later he relaxed; the paladin had just easily dodged the image’s strike, and raising both forehooves blasted him with the Light.
“It seems he has everything under control,” he thought, relieved. Both of them were fighting fiercely, without either gaining any serious wounds so far, but ever since their intervention Sir Lightbringer had performed far more attacks than the image had. “I don’t think he will need our help again.”
“What was it?” he asked his partner, curious what caused her to frown.
“Nothing,” Tempest retorted, shrugging. “I must have been seeing things.”
Nightcrawler rolled his eyes, ignoring her. If she had indeed was “seeing things”, then there was no way she would admit what it was she had thought she had seen. Instead of continuing the subject, he turned to the unicorn.
“Anyway, Doctor, you were saying?”
“Ah, yes, the Examining Band,” Doctor Thaumaturgical said, clearing his throat. “As I was saying, I think it is responsible for this situation. I think that it somehow, instead of scanning Sir Lightbringer’s body as it should and monitoring it, scanned his memories, and created an opponent from his memories.”
That explanation made surprising sense to Nightcrawler. He had never know of any creature like this. The closest race he knew that resembled it were minotaurs, but their horns and legs didn’t look so… twisted. Nor did they have leathery wings, that were torn on the edges.
“Not to mention that it apparently can use magic, and possesses some… unique abilities,” he thought, glancing at the blindfold covering its eyes.
When Tempest told him to incapacitate it, Nightcrawler had cloaked himself in shadows before even starting to approach it. He was certain that nopony could see him, but still, to be safe, he had made sure to stay in the conjured image’s blind spot as he attacked, aiming his daggers in where he assumed were its vital points. It was not only able to sense him, but also deflected both of his daggers with just one slash of his weird weapon, and then proceeded to choke him with its free hand. If he hadn’t disengaged with Shadowstep, he would probably be dead now.
Or indebted to Tempest Void, which in all honesty could make death seem a preferable option.
“Those lights glowing behind the blindfold… are those its eyes?” Nightcrawler wondered, recalling the unpleasant sensation he felt when it stared at him up close. They didn’t seem like eyes, more like… small flaming orbs? “Just what is this creature?”
Doctor Thaumaturgical, oblivions to his inner musing, added last one sentence to his earlier explanation: “Why this specific one, I do not know.”
“The width of the edge of its blades matches one of the scars on his chest,” Tempest unexpectedly cut in, her eyes still on the fight. “Your invention might have simply picked the memory of his toughest fight.”
Nightcrawler turned his attention back to the fight, taking a better look at the weapons the image was using. “Now that I think about it… I think they match his scars,” he thought, recalling one of the few times he had seen Sir Lightbringer without his armor since their deployment in Ponyville. Glancing at Tempest Void, he added: “Of course she would pick it up right away…”
Suddenly, Tempest’ eyes grew wide as plates. “Shit. I wasn’t seeing things…”
“What?” Nightcrawler asked, alarmed, as he looked at the fight.
As before, however, he hadn’t noticed anything wrong. True, Sir Lightbringer had been hit on the foreleg, but the image’s blade didn’t pierce his armor.
“Then why is Tempest so worried?”
“Dammit!”
That was all Arthas could think while dodging the fake Illidan’s strike as best he could. To say this day fight wasn’t going as he would have liked was a sore understatement at this point.
When he had empowered his body with the Holy Light, he had assumed that he would become this “Light-made alicorn” he had before. At first, he thought that was what had happened, as he felt his attacks as strong as back then - at least, as far as he could recall - and he almost effortlessly began to push back the image of Illidan. After a few seconds, however, he realized that his body was still made of flesh, and that only “physical” difference that had happened to him was that the Light manifested behind him in the form of two wings.
He didn’t let that bother him, as he had to focus on the fight. As their duel continued, he slowly realized that maybe there wasn’t anything to be bothered about, just maybe intrigued. True, he could no longer fly, nor could he manipulate holy magic as precisely as back when he had fought King Sombra. His physical strength however still seemed as increased as it used to be, and not having to change his physical body into pure Light should mean that he wouldn’t be as exhausted after the wings would disappear as he was when he changed back from his alicorn form.
“It has been months since the last time I had to use it. When I had fought King Sombra…” he mused when he got a short - literally three second long - breather. “Twilight will be probably more intrigued about what had changed than me.”
What happened later during the fight, though, was far more alarming.
The first time it had happened, he was certain that his eyes were playing tricks on him. After he had deflected a blow from both warglaives, for a brief moment, the Holy Avenger… almost disappeared. It started to fade, becoming transparent to the point he could easily see through it, but Arthas could still feel it in his grasp. However, he barely had time to register that, when it became fully visible again. Having lost a split second because of that, the fake Illidan had easily dodged his slash, but Arthas didn’t let that discourage him. Pushing that incident out of his mind, he threw himself fully back to the fight.
But just now, it had happened again, and the consequences were much worse.
Holy Avenger faded away, completely, just as Arthas was about to deflect one of the fake Illidan’s warglaives. As a result, the blade passed through and left a scratch on his right fore horseshoe and vambrace. Cursing, Arthas jumped back, dodging the other warglaive. Focusing, he summoned Holy Avenger again, and it appeared in his forehoof’s grasp, as always.
“What is going on?” he wondered as he went into defensive. “Is it because of the spell the image had used?” He thought back to how he felt when the spell hit the Holy Avenger; despite not being hit directly, he felt pain down to his soul. “I’ve always suspected that this blade was made out of a fragment of my soul,” Arthas recalled as he parried a series of strikes, “torn away because of what I’ve been through. If that spell was supposed to damage the soul of the target - and I wouldn’t put it past the real Illidan - it could affect the Holy Avenger. Question is, what should I do about it?”
Not much at the moment, that was for sure. He doubted the real Illidan would allow him a five minute break to consult a blacksmith, let alone his mindless image. And that was besides even the point that there weren’t any blacksmith in town, or that given the nature of this sword a mage would be of bigger help.
“Assuming I won’t be able to catch Twilight before leaving tomorrow and ask her to take a look at it, I guess I will have to wait until I meet this blacksmith Celestia spoke of. Unless I would be able to met her or Luna before that, maybe. In any case,” he thought, focusing fully on his opponent, “I’d better end this fight right now, before Holy Avenger can disappear again.”
The holy wings flared behind him; he felt that his empowered state - “I should check if in one of the librams the name of this… state is mentioned, calling it ‘empowered state’ sounds a bit… pretentious.” - wasn’t going to last long, anyway. Arthas realized that he had to finish this within the next few seconds.
With his free forehoof, he channeled the Light’s power, sending a hammer-shaped blast of Light at the fake Illidan. It dispatched it easily, deflecting it with its right warglaive that was now surrounded by a pulsing aura. Not demoralized, Arthas brought his blade down under the fake Illidan and cut upwards. The image blocked it with left warglaive, but at the same time as the blade rose, another blade, made of Light, shot from the ground before Arthas. It cut through the image’s arcane-made body, inflicting a wound across it torso. Not a mortal wound, but a wound nonetheless. The image, staggering slightly, took a step back.
“It’s over!” Arthas thought as, without wasting any time, he adjusted the Holy Avenger angle and prepared to deliver the finishing blow.
He didn’t get a chance to deliver it.
Just as his blade was about to cut through the fake Illidan’s chest, magic erupted around it. The blast was less powerful than those before, but it still caused Arthas to back away. Shaking off its effect, he was about to jump back at the image when he realized that it hadn’t been its intention to blast him away. The magical blast was merely a subsidiary effect of what it had done.
The tattoos on the chest glowed with bright, blue light, while in contrast the rest of its ethereal body became much darker. The image swelled in size, looking down on Arthas from even further high now as it spread its wings menacingly.
“Oh no…” Arthas thought as his own wings dispersed.
“This is bad, isn’t it?” Nightcrawler asked Tempest.
“Probably,” she replied. With only her ear turning to Doctor Thaumaturgical, she asked: “You’re sure you can’t turn the Proving Grounds off?”
Instead of replying, the unicorn pressed the biggest button on the control console, which only resulted in him getting shocked. “It would appear so, yes,” he said, shaking off the charge.
“Couldn’t we just destroy it?” Nightcrawler asked, glancing at Sir Lightbringer.
The paladin was being pushed back, retreating as he was resigned to merely defending himself. The larger image attacked him with barrage of strikes from his weapons, and Sir Lightbringer was barely keeping up with deflecting them. A few of the attacks managed to get past his defenses already, leaving new marks on the armor.
Hearing Doctor Thaumaturgical gasp, he turned back to him, but Tempest cut in before the unicorn could protest against destruction of his invention.
“The Proving Grounds were commissioned by the Princesses and are to become military’s property. I am not doing the paperwork for destroying something like this.”
Nightcrawler rolled his eyes. “What paperwork? You always dump that on me.”
“How long until the Nadire Crystal runs out of power?” Tempest asked Doctor Thaumaturgical, completely ignoring him.
“Assuming the energy gauge isn’t malfunctioning,” the unicorn began, tapping an indicator above the Nadire Crystal, “the power is already down to... twenty percent. Amazing how fast this model is draining it.”
“This form is probably going to consume the remaining energy even faster,” Tempest hummed, pondering. “Still, it might be better to intervene before it has a chance to inflict some serious wounds on Sir Lightbringer. Doctor,” she turned to Doctor Thaumaturgical, “this thing is supposed to react to every type of attack like a real person would, right?”
“Um, yes, that is correct,” he replied, slightly confused.
Nightcrawler frowned, having a foreboding feeling as to where this was going. “What are you planning?”
Instead of replying, Tempest Void did exactly what he had expected she would do. Shadows enveloped her, making her entire body appear slightly transparent and black, with shadowy energies surrounding her.
“Tempest,” he began as he heard the unicorn gasp in surprise, “you know Captain Nightshade-”
“Fuck him,” Tempest cut him off calmly, her voice slightly distorted.
“Pretty sure you did,” Nightcrawler thought, pouting; he would never dare to say it outloud.
“Okay then, you know Princess Luna said to not use those powers in front of ponies for the time being,” he tried differently.
“I’m pretty sure Her Majesty will overlook using the shadow magic to save the godfather of her daughter,” Tempest countered, shrugging. “Now focus. This time I will be the diversion. I will attack first, and when he tries to recover, end it.”
Sighing, Nightcrawler grabbed his daggers. “I hope you know what you’re doing…”
“I always know what I am doing. It’s a pity, though,” Tempest added before they started; when he looked at her, he saw that she was smirking. “First time to use my powers on somebody, and I won’t be able to hear its screams as its mind unfolds…”
“And she wonders why Nightshade broke up with her…”
As another of the fake Illidan’s attacks made it past his defense, Arthas was again forced to take it on his armor. However, as he was about to counterattack, he stopped, his eyes bulging from pain. This time, the Warglaive of Azzinoth dug deeper than before, slashing through his armor and biting into his flesh.
Wincing in pain at his side, he barely raised his sword in time to block the other warglaive. Immediately afterwards, he spun on his axis and slashed the image upwards, with a big blade of Light striking from the ground as well. The fake Illidan jumped into the air, however, before he could wound him.
As it further distanced itself from him, Arthas took the opportunity to heal himself. He pressed his Light-enveloped hoof to the wound, then, as he felt the wound closing, he turned to look at the Illidan’s copy. It hovered high above him, it appearance being a perfect image of Illidan’s demonic form.
This is what you have given me. This gift - this power. And it will destroy you!
Arthas clenched his teeth in impotent rage. “Just how much power is there left in the Nadire Crystal?! For Light’s sake, at this point wouldn’t it make more sense to weaponize the Proving Grounds?!”
As if to prove his point, the image of Illidan had unleashed a powerful beam from his eyes just as he finished healing himself. Cursing, Arthas prayed to the Light for protection, hoping that an attack of such scale - he was pretty sure the blue-flamed beam would cover the area within two feet radius around him - would drain the Nadire Crystal’s energy even further.
“To think that this is what I’ve been reduced to…”
With the Light’s shield protecting him from harm, Arthas was resigned to “admiring” the blue ethereal flames, as the world around him became engulfed by them. Dispersing the Holy Avenger for the moment, he put more willpower into his barrier, strengthening it as the attack continued.
Several seconds later, however, it stopped. It was so sudden that instead of following with a counter attack Arthas merely stared at the image of Illidan. It kept itself in the air with its wings, flapping the slowly as it turned its head away from the paladin. One of its hands was outstretched before it, as if having cast a counterspell. Worried that Doctor Thaumaturgical had attacked him with magic, Arthas followed fake Illidan’s gaze, words of rebuke at the tip of his tongue, but to his surprise he found himself looking not at the unicorn, but at Tempest Void.
Tempest Void in a Shadowform, to be more specific.
“I suppose this means I got to meet one of the bat ponies who became able to use void magic earlier than Luna had planned,” he thought, although at the moment he didn’t care what kind of powers she was using.
What mattered was that she just became a target for the image of Illidan.
As the fake Illidan swooped down at her, Arthas pointed his hoof at him, concentrating. He channeled Light’s powers in an effort to limit his movements. Golden, Light-made chains appeared around the image, suspending it for a brief moment. The conjured foe quickly freed itself, though, making Arthas wince. He shrugged it off almost immediately, worried what the image would do to Tempest Void.
To her credit, the bat pony didn’t seem worried. From her outstretched hoof a blue stream shot at the fake Illidan, hitting it in the head. As its head became illuminated in blue light, the image slowed down a bit, its face twisting in pain. It still continued to descend towards Tempest Void, though. The bat pony frowned - at least Arthas thought so; with her features obscured due to her Shadowform it was hard to tell - and briefly stopped her attack. She uttered a single word as she pointed at the image of Illidan with her other hoof, before resuming her earlier spell. The fake Illidan, now in even more pain, now stopped, dropping his warglaives and grabbing its head as it hovered in mid-air as Tempest used the shadow magic to assault its mind.
Almost immediately the other bat pony, Nightcrawler, rushed at it from behind, a cloak of shadows that hid him from sight disappearing as he aimed his daggers at the image from behind. The conjured image, however, must have sensed him, as he moved partially out of the way, resulting in Nightcrawler’s daggers tearing up its right wing’s membrane.
It wouldn’t cause much more than some irritation to the fake Illidan, as it was merely three feet above the ground at that point. With its left wing it easily descended down in a controlled dive. As it fell down, it grabbed Nightcrawler by his tail, and chucked him at Tempest Void. The bat pony stallion, taken by surprise, managed to pierce its hand before it threw him.
Tempest Void had to stop her spellcasting to try and dodge the incoming Nightcrawler, but she still wasn’t fast enough. The other bat pony collided with her, stunning both of them for a moment.
It was more than enough time for the image to land on the ground undisturbed and recover its Twin Blades of Azzinoth. However, it also shrank in size, reverting to Illidan’s normal form. Arthas, seeing his chance, quickly charged at him. Before he could cross the distance between them, though, it threw one of the warglaives at the bat ponies, only then turning to the paladin.
Cursing as he realized that the two were still recovering and wouldn’t be able to dodge it, Arthas stopped and uttered a quick prayer, erecting a barrier of Light around them before the warglaive could hurt them. To his surprise, however, it hit the ground, and exploded in blue fire. As the image of Illidan attacked him with the other warglaive, no less lethal than when wielding two, Arthas saw in the corner of his eye the flames, that had washed over the shield around bat ponies, took shape resembling a fire elemental.
“You two get a hold of yourself and keep that thing busy!” Arthas called out to the bat ponies as he blocked the fake Illidan's strike with Holy Avenger.
As he saw them raise to their hooves and nod, he focused on the image of Illidan, while still keeping the protection around them to shield them from the flames. The image was wounded and had only one weapon now. Despite how exhausted Arthas currently was and how he still needed to protect the bat ponies, he should’ve been able to finish this now.
However, as he exchanged a few hits with it, he soon found himself staring at the image’s outstretched hand, that was pulsing with magic. Too late did he realize that while it had to favor the wounded hand and couldn’t wield a warglaive as efficiently, it could still cast a spell.
A fireball shot at him, hitting him right at his chest and exploding, sending him hurling through the ground several feet. Slightly disoriented from that and in quite a lot of pain, despite the armor absorbing most of the damage, Arthas struggled to get up.
Trying to concentrate on the words of a healing prayer, he glanced at the image of Illidan. It was running towards him, its warglaive raised.
“Oh my goodness, I’m going to be so late,” Fluttershy exclaimed as she hurried towards the town.
She had spent the entire day again learning from Provato, as she had been for the last couple of days. She just found it all so… fascinating! Fluttershy had always felt a special connection to animals, but she had never thought that it might extend to all nature.
“That might explain why I liked to spend so much time in the backhouse with Mom’s flowers, though.”
And she would never think that she would be able to somehow draw on the powers of nature in order to help others. Not just help preserve the balance of nature, but her friends and other ponies. Provato had told her that he sensed great potential in her, and he was always amazed at the rate she would learn his teachings. If there would ever be another dangerous situation happening to them and they wouldn’t have the Elements of Harmony, like when they went to the Crystal Empire, she wouldn’t have to worry about being a burden. She could fight alongside everypony!
But because of her excitement, she had lost track of time. Again. Only when Provato had told her they would stop for today did she look up at the sun and realized how late she was. Saying a respectful farewell to her teacher, Fluttershy hurried back to her cottage to quickly freshen up, then flew to Ponyville. She was dimly aware that she was flying a bit faster than before and it was less exhausting that she was used to; Provato had told her about it.
“As you bond closer with nature and the spirits of the wild, your body might adapt to it, becoming stronger and more swift,” he had said during one of her first lessons, after which he had taught her a nature spell which could for a short time further increase a pony’s strength, agility and even resilience.
As Fluttershy pondered if she should use it on herself - whether or not it would be alright for her to use magic meant for preserving nature so that she could be tiny bit sooner on the party she was already late for - she noticed some lights from the Everfree Abbey, which was now before her.
“That’s strange, I thought Mattie would be already at the party,” Fluttershy thought, frowning. “And is that… blue fire?!”
Worried, she hurried over. What she saw as she got closer made her eyes grow wide. The fire was coming from some strange, fire-like creature, which was facing two bat ponies. Several feet away Arthas was laying on the ground, his armor singed, as some monster was about to attack him.
Without thinking, she swooped down, ignoring a surprised and alarmed coo from Al’ar - with whom, as he had been apparently observing whatever this was the entire time from the roof of the barracks and did nothing, she would have some words with - and landed not far away from Arthas and the monster. At the same time, she expanded her mind, communing with the plants around them and asking them to spread their roots where she wanted them too.
Entangling roots erupted from the ground beneath the monster, wrapping themselves around him and stopping him dead in his tracks.
“Leave him alone!” she shouted, furious that he wanted to harm one of her closest friends.
The creature turned his horned head to her… and all the fury in her dispersed, replaced by fear. Fluttershy had already considered him to be a monster, purely by the fact alone that he had harmed Arthas, although she had to admit that even she found the wings sprouting from its back to be… monstrous. But his face… its feature were so… demonic! The horns, far more curled and sharp-edged than a minotaurs were, the sharp teeth as it grinned at her, and the eyes… those burning, hidden behind a blindfold eyes…
Fluttershy tried to get a grip on herself, but as she almost calmed herself, she realized that blue fire erupted around the creature, burning the roots binding him. Almost immediately, it pointed his right hand at her, and fire shot from it.
Paralyzed by fear and reeling from the pain she felt the roots had experienced, Fluttershy could only stare at the fireball as it approached her rapidly.
“No!” Arthas exclaimed, forgetting about his wounds and getting to his hooves immediately, throwing himself in Fluttershy and fake Illidan’s direction.
He had been too late to stop it from casting the fireball. He would be too late to get to Fluttershy in time. He couldn’t ask the Light for her protection; he was still shielding the bat ponies from the flames, and as wounded as he was, he doubted he could focus on protecting somepony so far away. He was also dimly aware of Al’ar’s alarmed caw and heard the flap of his wings, but he knew that he was too far away to get to her in time either.
Arthas could only call out for help. Opening himself to the Light, he begged for help. He called out like he did when he called upon the Guardian of Ancient Kings, except this time putting everything he was to this mental plea. So absorbed he was by his concern for Fluttershy, that he ignored the burning pain around his hoof from the Examining Band.
Or that the image of Illidan, which was now right before him, had began to turn around, his blade raised.
Suddenly, his plea had been answered. By who or what, Arthas did not know at the moment, nor did he care. All he knew was that the Light suddenly erupted around Fluttershy, and the fireball that was about to hit her had dispersed.
Relieved, he finally turned his attention to the fake Illidan.
He could see the warglaive in its left hand. He knew that he couldn’t deflect it; the Holy Avenger had either disappeared again or had been dropped by him, in either case it wasn’t in his hoof. He knew he couldn’t protect himself with the aid of the Holy Light; not after the call he had made. He knew he couldn’t dodge it, too.
But he was damn well going to try.
Arthas tilted his body, hoping to avoid the warglaive at least partially, but the image was too fast. The blade struck him in his chest, piercing his armor, skin and right lung, then left lung as well and coming out through his back. His eyes bulged from paralyzing pain. Blood gathered in his muzzle and he choked on it as he tried to draw breath.
The face of the fake Illidan leaned closer, grinning at him triumphantly as it lifted him up to be on his eye level. Grinding his teeth, Arthas gathered what little strength he had left to raise his right forehoof, praying to the Light to smite it…
… and with a blue flash, it disappeared.
All of it. The image of Illidan, the flames and the creature that had been causing them, and the blade that had been in his torso and was holding him up in the air. Arthas fell to the ground, his pain only increasing as he hit the ground. Laying on his back, he focused on breathing, which with his lungs rapidly filling with blood wasn’t easy. It was all he could do to not pass out, let alone focus on healing himself.
With pain coursing through him with every breath, Arthas couldn’t focus on anything that was happening around him. It was like he was underwater, with every sound becoming drowned out, and his vision becoming blurry. Which is why, when the pain started to gradually lessen, at first Arthas thought that he was dying.
But as his head cleared, he realized the reason for that.
By his side was sitting Fluttershy, her face glistening from tears. She had placed her forehooves gently on his armored chest, and green, natural energy flew around them. As his senses slowly returned, Arthas realized that she was using this energy, this magic, to heal him.
“F-flutter-shy?” he asked, surprised, despite the pain he was still in and the blood still in his muzzle. “W-when did-”
But she silenced him. “Shh, don’t talk,” Fluttershy said, surprisingly calmly for somepony who's entire face was wet with tears.
Taking into consideration that a stream of blood ran down his muzzle when he tried to speak, Arthas listened to her. Slowly, he raised his forehoof and placed it next to his wound besides Fluttershy’s, helping her with her efforts.
With both holy and druidic magic spreading through his body, the wound began to close gradually and the damage done to his lungs was gradually repaired. As he was no longer in danger of dying, Arthas began to think about what had happened.
“The Nadire Crystal must have finally run out of power,” he thought as breathing became easier. He would have sighed if he wasn’t sure it would result in him coughing up blood. “I’m glad that it’s over-”
“Um, Sir?” he hear Tempest Void suddenly spoke up from somewhere behind Fluttershy. “You might want to get up soon.”
The alarmed note in her voice made him raise his head slightly. What he saw made his eyes widen.
Two new humanoid figures were standing, in the place where Fluttershy had been. Realization that it was them that had saved her however didn’t comfort Arthas. He knew their shapes well; he was familiar with the suspiciously sparse armor, the transparent feathered wings sprouting from their backs, and the helmets covering their eyes.
Unlike those that he had been familiar with, though, those two val’kyr weren’t blue, but golden. The Holy Light emanated from them, marking them as val’kyr of the Halls of Valor, the servants of Odyn.
Arthas frowned. What were they doing here?
As he recovered with Fluttershy’s aid, waiting until he was strong enough to rise, he was relieved that the two val’kyr hadn’t done anything to anypony, and instead stared at him calmly. Despite that, both Tempest Void and Nightcrawler stood between them and Arthas and Fluttershy, prepared to intercept them should they attack. Al’ar was also there, standing protectively next to Fluttershy and glaring at the val’kyr.
“I was not prepared for today,” he heard Nightcrawler sigh.
Placing his forehoof on the now closed wound, Arthas was forced to agree with him. “Neither was I.”
If he still had a hand, it would have clenched into a fist.