CHAPTER NINETEEN
MOVING THE STARS
The Mare Do Well signal was shining when Apple Bloom arrived in Canterlot at six in the morning. Lyra noticed it first.
“Hey, check it out, Bloom,” she said. “You’re already needed.”
Apple Bloom’s bleary eyes focused on the rising spotlight as the train pulled into the station. It was barely visible in the first rays of dawn. She sighed and dropped her head against the window. “I can’t leave this city for one dang night,” she said.
Lyra laughed. “Go easy on Razorwing when you see him, okay? Poor kid. He really likes you.”
“I’m aware.” She reached up and grabbed the top of her hat. “I’ll be right back.”
“And I’ll be waiting,” said Lyra.
She pulled off the hat, tucked it into her bag, and hurried past a few sleepy passengers to the back of the train. Within minutes, Apple Bloom became Mare Do Well in the empty caboose, and she climbed on top of the train to reach the station’s roof.
“Maybe somepony forgot to turn it off,” said Lyra.
“Doesn’t look like it,” said Mare Do Well. On the far side of the flat roof, where the spotlight shone, Razorwing and Spritemare were perched on the edge, facing away from the tracks. Both of the them were craning their necks, watching the city in search of the Hope of Harmony.
“Oh, this is perfect,” said Lyra as Mare Do Well snuck up behind them. She used a metal lever to shut off the spotlight with a loud clang. Razorwing and Spritemare spun around, startled.
“Long night?” she asked.
Lyra giggled. “You’re getting better at one liners.”
Immediately worried by their wild eyes, Mare Do Well tried to listen closely as Razorwing and Spritemare scrambled toward her, both shouting at once.
“Falcon’s dead! There was an explosion—”
“—all my fault, I didn’t listen to—”
“—working with a zebra king, a clan leader, who—”
“—wants to take over Equestria, starting with—”
“—Ponyville!”
“—Ponyville!”
“Ponyville?” Lyra asked. “Apple Bloom, what’s going on?”
Mare Do Well held up a hoof and looked directly at Razorwing. “What happened?” she asked. She noticed black smudges on his armor.
His face was pale behind his helmet. “Falcon hadn’t relocated, just brought in more recruits. But they’d been working with a zebra clan and were terrified by Spritemare’s clones, so most of them left. Then I accidentally mixed some chemicals and blew up half the forest and Falcon died, but he told us that the zebra king is a warlock headed for Ponyville bent on taking over Equestria.”
Spritemare just nodded.
Mare Do Well thought hard. “A zebra warlock? What does that mean?” She turned to Spritemare.
“I don’t really know,” she said. “We have old stories of powerful zebras who could move the stars and dry up lakes, but they’re just legends.” She stomped a hoof. “I wish Baba was here—my grandpa. He knows so much about zebra history.”
“Why were they working together?” asked Mare Do Well.
“Why Ponyville?” Lyra asked, and Mare Do Well repeated it.
“I really don’t know,” Razorwing said. “I’m sorry, Mare Do Well, I-I didn’t know what to do, I was just trying to stop Falcon.”
Mare Do Well held in a sigh and put her hoof on Razorwing’s plated shoulder. “It’s all right, Razorwing,” she said. “We’ll figure this out.”
He smiled, and she could feel his shoulder relax under her touch. She pulled away and looked at the glowing horizon.
“Where is this zebra king? The Zebrahara?” she asked as day broke.
“Falcon said he was headed for Ponyville,” said Razorwing. “Through Ghastly Gorge.”
Lyra gasped.
“When?” Mare Do Well’s voice cracked. “Now?”
“That’s what it sounded like to me,” said Spritemare. “He made it seem like the plan was to get ponies addicted to the crystal sap in Canterlot so that they’d accept the king when he gets here, but… I guess you two stopped that from happening.”
Mare Do Well narrowed her eyes. “But he’s still coming?”
Spritemare nodded. “Falcon kept saying that he’s angry. And that maybe he wants revenge.”
“Revenge on who?” Mare Do Well asked. “Why?”
“We were hoping maybe you knew,” Razorwing said timidly. “Aren’t you from Ponyville?”
Mare Do Well’s head snapped toward him. “How did you know that?”
He smirked. “Uh, you know my sister?”
She relaxed. “Right. Wait a moment.” She turned away from them and whispered to Lyra, “Can you get a pegasus to scout the Gorge as soon as possible?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll go right now,” Lyra said. “It’s fine, they probably just misunderstood something.”
“Let’s hope so,” said Mare Do Well, and looked over her shoulder at Razorwing. “If it comes to it, how fast can you fly to Trottingham?” she asked him.
Razorwing clenched his jaw. “I bet I could get there in two hours if I didn’t stop.”
She nodded and asked Spritemare, “Do you think you could fly to Baltimare?”
Spritemare grimaced, but nodded. “It would take me longer than that, but I can go faster than the train.”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” said Mare Do Well, “but if Ponyville is attacked by a warlock that can move the stars, we’ll need all the help we can get.”
(/\/\)
Lyra rammed through her front door and stumbled into the bright morning light of Ponyville. At full speed, she galloped to the market where only the earliest risers were setting up shop. Above them, Scootaloo lazily kicked a few stray clouds into oblivion.
“Scootaloo!” Lyra shrieked. It drew everypony’s attention, including the startled weatherpony.
“Huh?” She looked down and offered a nervous wave. “Oh, hiya Miss Heartstrings! Uh… need something?”
“Get down here!”
Scootaloo dove and hovered in front of Lyra, adopting a similarly panicked expression. “What is it?” she asked.
“Will you hurry over to Ghastly Gorge and… just make sure everything’s all right?” Lyra asked. She glanced around and gulped. “Er, y’know, just… normal?”
Scootaloo’s brow furrowed. “Uh… sure. Anything specifically un-normal I should be looking for?”
“Just go!” Lyra shouted.
Scootaloo made a “Wuyuhh!” noise before taking off in a streak of orange and violet.
Lyra’s breathing was heavy from sprinting. Some of the gentlest onlookers approached to ask if she was all right. She nodded and thanked them with small, forced smiles, and sat on her haunches while they returned to their burgeoning booths.
Somepony tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around to see Applejack, harnessed to her apple cart, sweating above wide eyes.
“What happened?” she asked in a whisper.
Lyra grimaced. “Uh… nothing yet, but… there may or may not be an evil zebra warlock headed for Ponyville intent on national takeover.”
Applejack stared into her eyes for a long moment. In a fluid motion, she unhitched herself from the apple cart, let it drop, and left it in the middle of the street as she galloped out of sight.
Lyra’s forehead creased. “Where are you going?” she shouted, but Applejack was already gone.
“Ooohhhh…” Lyra pattered her front hooves. “Come on Scootaloo! Rainbow Dash would have been back by now…”
Lyra heard her before she saw her. Scootaloo was yelling at the top of her voice, circling over the entire city. “An army of zebras!” she was shouting. “Wake up, everypony! We need to get out of here! There’s an army of zebras coming right now!”
Ponyvilleans screamed all across town. Upper windows, opened by bleary, curious ponies, caught the news into more and more homes. Lyra watched in horror as panic rippled from street to street. Doors to homes flew open as families gathered, murmuring among themselves in worried, skeptical tones.
Scootaloo landed hard in front of Lyra. “There’s an army of zebras coming out of the Gorge!” she said. “How did you know?”
“Mnnyyeh-magic!” bumbled Lyra, shaking. “Okay, okay, uhhh… we need to get everypony out of here. Evacuate!” She shouted at the gathering ponies. “Evacuate as fast as you can! Tell everypony! We need to get out of here!”
She wasn’t exactly sure why she was so scared. She hadn’t seen the “army” herself, she knew nothing about zebra warlocks, and the only adjective she had for their king was “angry”. Nevertheless, her fear spread like an electric virus, and soon the entire town was grabbing valuables from their homes and running for escape in every direction.
“We need to go north!” Scootaloo yelled. “It’s safest up there. Everypony, run to the hills!”
A cacophony of screams rose among the citizens of Ponyville as they oriented north, stampeding through the streets in packs of friends and family, some stopping to pound on the doors of their sleeping neighbors.
“Applejack…” Lyra said under her breath. She looked up at Scootaloo and shouted, “Make sure everypony stays together!”
Scootaloo nodded and found a group of pegasi to help her. Filled with adrenaline, Lyra’s legs carried her toward Sweet Apple Acres.
Somewhere on the long path between the edge of Ponyville and the farmhouse, Lyra started yelling, “Applejack! Applejack, you have to come with us! We need to—” Her words ended in a gasp when a long line of zebras, wearing colorful wooden masks and touting spears, stepped out of the woods to her right. She skidded to a stop, gaping at the invaders.
“What do you want?” she shouted at them. When they didn’t answer, her eyes flitted to the distant barn where a hundred more zebras poured out from the woods. Rather than spears, a good number of them carried torches. Lyra felt as though somepony had knocked the wind out of her when Sweet Apple Acres’ red barn and longstanding farmhouse caught fire.
“No!” she shrieked, sprinting forward. The nearby zebras formed a half circle in front of her, thrusting out their spears. She yelped and backed away, watching over their heads as the barn went up in flames. “No, no, no! What are you doing!?”
The zebras marched toward her, jabbing their spears menacingly. Lyra turned around and trotted back to Ponyville. “All right, I get it! It’s fruitless, though, everypony’s already gone!” She stole a final look at the burning farmhouse and gulped, following the trail with the zebras escorting close behind.
Lyra reentered Ponyville horrified. Hundreds and hundreds of masked zebras, perhaps even thousands, lined the streets and stormed through homes, throwing furniture from windows and trampling small gardens. Worst of all, they had herded all the citizens of Ponyville back into the city. Lyra escaped her escorts in the chaos and found a gaggle of familiar faces cowering near their bakery.
“Mrs. Cake!” she shouted over the noise. “What happened?”
“They were everywhere!” she shouted. “All around the city!”
“I’m scared, Mom!” said Pumpkin Cake, pressed against her mother’s side.
“Where’s Scootaloo?” asked Lyra.
Pound Cake pointed. “She and the other pegasi are fighting at the north edge of town! Mom won’t let me go with them…”
“You stay here, Pound!” Mrs. Cake yelled.
Lyra ran off before she heard more of the argument. Above some buildings she could see pegasi rising and diving. As soon as she rounded a corner and saw the battle for herself, a peculiar cloud of darkness stretched upward, dividing into dozens of smoky tendrils that spiraled around pegasi and tightened like rope. Lyra heard Scootaloo shout in pain before she dropped to the ground with all the others, struggling to break out of the shadowy coils.
A tall, muscular zebra with a long mask stepped forward. The mask’s upper lip was curled in a scowl, its mouth open far taller than was possible, and its cheeks were decorated with bright green spirals. In his right hoof, the zebra held a dark, gnarled staff topped with a glass ball filled with swirling, green smoke. The staff was thick, comprised of three intertwining, wood-like vines. The smoky tendrils around every grounded pegasus originated from the glowing ball at the end of the staff.
In a moment of otherworldly clarity, Lyra channelled magic through her horn. Time seemed to slow around her as she went into a trance. Her eyes glowed with a golden light and she said one word aloud: “Help.”
Exhausted, Lyra collapsed, joining the pegasi on the ground. The large zebra said something in his own language, and dozens of zebras reacted to his command, scooping the pegasi and Lyra onto their backs and carrying them into the center of the city.
(/\/\)
The vision took Mare Do Well’s breath away. She tilted back her head and froze, overcome by sensations that were not her own. Through Lyra’s eyes, she watched the warlock wrap Ponyville’s valliant pegasi in shadowy cords and heard her quiet plea.
“Help,” rang Lyra’s voice, and the image of Ponyville melted to the dawn of Canterlot.
“Oh my gosh,” said Mare Do Well.
“Are you okay?” asked Spritemare.
“What happened?” asked Razorwing.
Mare Do Well panted as her own vision returned. “He’s already there,” she said. “I just saw Ponyville. It’s overrun by zebras with spears. The warlock is there. He has some kind of magic staff.”
Spritemare raised a foreleg. “No… that’s impossible. I-I’ve heard of staffs cut from the wood of ancient trees in the Zebrahara, but… it’s stuff for bedtime stories.”
Mare Do Well breathed through her nose. “I’m sorry to ask this of you two, but I need you to find Harness and the one called Synapse as fast as you can. Get them to Ponyville. I’ll find a way for myself and meet you there. We don’t have much time.”
“I gotta get me a hat like yours,” said Razorwing before he took off for Trottingham.
“Good luck, Mare Do Well,” Spritemare said, flying along the train tracks in Baltimare’s direction.
Mare Do Well felt dizzy. Whether it was a side effect of the vision or the shock of seeing Ponyville under attack, she didn’t know. As the Sun climbed away from the horizon, she made her way from rooftop to rooftop back to Sweetie Belle’s apartment.
Sweetie had just stepped into the street, ready to trot to an early morning rehearsal, when she heard her name from above. “Sweetie Belle!”
Mare Do Well jumped off a nearby building and glided on her cape toward Sweetie. Her dark costume stuck out like a sore hoof in the brightening daylight.
Sweetie almost called Mare Do Well by her real name. “Aaaaaaaa-ctual superhero, Mare Do Well! Wow, what a surprise!” she said very loudly. The few other ponies in the streets gasped and pointed as Mare Do Well swooped down to land in front of Sweetie.
“What is it?” Sweetie asked through a clenched smile. “I need to get to rehearsal.”
“Ponyville’s under attack,” Mare Do Well whispered. “I need the Wishing Well.”
Sweetie’s face immediately hardened. “Come with me,” she said in a serious tone. They galloped past enraptured ponies, one of whom snapped a picture with a camera around his neck.
“Do you need to break that or something?” Sweetie Belle asked.
“It doesn’t matter now,” said Mare Do Well. “Everypony we love is in danger.”
Minutes later they arrived at the studio where Sweetie Belle recorded. Sweetie rapped at its locked door until somepony opened it.
“Miss Belle?” said a young mare with too much makeup. “What are you doing here?”
“Move!” said Sweetie, barreling past her into the entrance hallway. Mare Do Well followed, drawing a squeal from the young mare that was somewhere between delight and terror.
Sweetie Belle poked her front half into an office and grabbed a key from the wall in her magic. “Sweetie Belle?” a stallion asked, but she didn’t answer, running further down the hall with Mare Do Well on her tail.
They clattered into a room at the end of the hallway, interrupting a small band’s recording session.
“Hey, what’s the idea?” asked the pianist. His jaw dropped when Mare Do Well entered behind Sweetie.
“Everypony out!” shouted Sweetie Belle. “NOW!”
The musicians and technicians obeyed, keeping close to the walls so not to bump into Mare Do Well, though none of their eyes could tear away from her.
Once they had left, Sweetie Belle shut the door and ran to the drumset. She tossed all its components aside with her magic and pulled away a large rug, revealing a trap door which opened with the key. “The Wishing Well’s down there,” she said, pointing to a long staircase the trapdoor revealed. “This studio was used a long time ago in smuggling rings. There’s a tunnel that opens out the side of the mountain down there.”
“How did you—”
Sweetie Belle put a hoof over Mare Do Well’s mask. “Took a long time,” she answered. “Now go save Ponyville!”
Mare Do Well sighed. “Thank you, Sweetie.” She looked over her shoulder at the door to the hallway. “Good luck sorting all this out.”
Sweetie hugged her around the neck. “I’m so proud of you, Apple Bloom,” she whispered. “Come back soon and explain what’s going on, okay?”
Mare Do Well hugged her back. “I will,” she said, then ducked into the hidden staircase and descended deep into the city’s mountainous foundations. Sweetie Belle closed the trapdoor above her, plunging Mare Do Well in darkness. She reached into her utility belt and smacked a clear gem against the narrow stone walls of the tunnel, lighting the downward path before her.
The Wishing Well, painted purple and black, waited in a cavern at the bottom of the stairs. Mare Do Well jumped in its only seat and cranked its pedals with her hind hooves, wrapping her front two around the machine’s levers. The propellor above her creaked into motion, reminding her how long it had been since she had flown the contraption.
“Let’s hope Scootaloo built you to last,” she said to the machine. After a gulp, she added, “Not to mention Pinkie Pie.”
The Wishing Well rose a foot off the ground. Mare Do Well steered it through a wide, winding tube of chiseled stone for what felt like several minutes. Suddenly, a pinprick of light appeared… and grew like a party balloon. Mare Do Well hadn’t realized how fast she was going until she cannonballed out of a hole in Canterlot Mountain.
Momentarily blinded by the rising Sun, Mare Do Well leaned in her seat and aimed the Wishing Well for Ponyville. She could already see it from her altitude, albeit as a few specks of yellow thatch roofs at the edge of the Everfree Forest, and pumped her hind legs in an effort to close the gap between her and her beloved hometown.
The black blades above her spun silently, and if it had been night she would have gone unnoticed. As it was, her dark little craft was a blotch against the sky, and—since she was flying in a straight line for Ponyville—she became a truly unmissable target. Mare Do Well didn’t notice the spiral of dark magic until it was nearly upon her, and her attempt to dodge the snakelike projectile resulted in its collision with the blades overhead.
The darkness wrapped itself into the center of the propellor and stopped it completely. Mare Do Well’s hind hooves jolted painfully against the jammed pedals, and the Wishing Well began to fall.
Mare Do Well reached up and tried to tear away the strange, smoke-like cords tangled in the blades. They were impossible to touch, though clearly tangible enough to ruin her flight. She pushed hard to crank the pedals and jerked the levers back and forth, but the machine continued to fall, tumbling forwards and sideways through the air.
“Horseapples!” Mare Do Well shouted. With a high pitched growl, she abandoned the Wishing Well and stretched out her cape, watching the machine plummet without her and break apart at the foot of a hill below.
“Shoot,” she said under her breath. Ponyville was still miles away. She tried to maintain speed and altitude, but her cape could only do so much. As the ground drew closer, Mare Do Well spotted something else coming at her, but rather than a black spiral projecting from Ponyville, it looked very much like a comet hurtling at her from space.
“Aaaahh!” Mare Do Well screamed and pulled in her cape, crossing her forehooves over her chest to dodge roll through the air. Were the legends of warlocks moving the stars true? Could King Zimbaya command space itself to attack her?
Mare Do Well plunged for the ground, throwing open her cape just in time to cut through the air, backflip, and land safely among a small grove of trees. She looked up at the comet: its glowing trail had curved, and it was still following her.
She ran deeper into the grove, hoping that the trees might protect her, but what was a tree against a burning space rock?
“Lyra!” she shouted. The rumbling, crackling sound of the comet loudened behind her. “Lyra, help me! What do I do?”
Mare Do Well dropped to her belly and covered her head with her hooves as the comet slammed into the ground only a few feet to her left. The rumbling sound stopped instantly, replaced by an annoyingly familiar voice.
“Mare Do Well, are you okay!?”
Mare Do Well’s head popped up. “Diamond Tiara?”
The pink pony stood in a smoldering hole between two trees. Her white costume flowed around her like licks of white flame… because, as Mare Do Well slowly noticed, they were licks of white flame.
“What the…” Mare Do Well choked.
“I saw your flying thing go down,” said Facetfire, “and I came to help. Are you okay?”
Mare Do Well’s eyes followed the long trail of smoke in the sky that led to where Facetfire stood. “How did you do that?” she asked.
“I told you in Phillydelphia,” Facetfire answered, “I’m not a fighter, but I have something to give to Equestria.”
Shaking her head, Mare Do Well said, “No, I mean… you’re an earth pony. Where did that horn come from?”
Facetfire offered a weak smile. “Oh… uh, actually.” She removed the flimsy white mask from her face, and the horn came with it. “It’s synthetic. I spent every last bit I had to get it commissioned by some cutting edge scientists I met in Phillydelphia. Apparently it’s based on research by Princess Sparkle herself on the science of magic, while she lived in Ponyville.”
Mare Do Well eyed the mask warily. “That… seems very dangerous.”
“Well, they haven’t made many. Each horn can only do one spell,” Facetfire continued. “I chose pyromancy. And it’s crazy expensive, but… after I moved to Phillydelphia and decided to become a politician, I saw how corrupt things had gotten, and… and then you started changing Canterlot.” Facetfire smiled and shrugged. “I spent all my money and dedicated all my time to honing the skill this horn gives me. I want to make Phillydelphia a better place.” She replaced the mask; the horn flashed and the flames on her costume surged. “It took a lot of practice, but I’ve gotten pretty good at it.”
“Clearly. How did you learn to fly?”
Facetfire rolled her eyes. “Uh, duh. Heat rises,” she said.
Mare Do Well sighed. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask the same of you,” said Facetfire. “I thought you worked at night.”
“Ponyville is under attack by an invading zebra army,” said Mare Do Well, pointing through the trees in Ponyville’s direction. “I don’t have time to wait for the Sun to set.”
Facetfire’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious? Okay, this is going to sound weird, but I swear I had no idea about Ponyville, and yet… ever since you left Phillydelphia, I’ve had this distinct feeling that I needed to visit home. When I woke up this morning it was so strong I couldn’t ignore it.” She smiled. “Mare Do Well, this is meant to be! I’ll help you save Ponyville, and then you’ll know I’m a real hero just like you!”
Mare Do Well groaned. “You are nothing like me,” she said. Then, glancing at the ghostly flames around Facetfire’s body, she added, “But maybe we could use your help.”
“Yesss!” Facetfire pumped her hoof, but her face quickly changed to one of confusion. “Wait… did you say ‘we’?”
(/\/\)
“Holy garbage cakes, you’re heavy,” Razorwing wheezed.
Harness grunted, dangling from Razorwing’s trembling forelegs. “This would be faster if you let me gallop there myself.”
Razorwing cackled. “Yeah, because you could run halfway across Equestria.”
“I could,” said Harness.
“Could not!”
“I’ll show you.”
“Shut up, I’m trying to get us to Ponyville—”
“Drop me right here, the fall wouldn’t hurt me.”
“—to save the world from a crazy zebra.”
Harness sighed and crossed his forelegs, crushing Razorwing’s hooves against his ribcage.
“Gaahh! Ouch, ouch, ouch!” Razorwing yelped.
Harness immediately dropped his forelegs to his sides. “Sorry!” he said. “Honestly, I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry.”
Razorwing sniffled. “It’s fine.”
They flew in silence. The shadow they cast slid over the empty, sunny fields of western Equestria at a slow but steady pace. Sweat dripped from Razorwing’s chin onto Harness’ black executioner’s mask, but neither of them noticed.
“Okay, I’m done,” Razorwing suddenly said, dropping in long intervals until they reached the ground. He dropped Harness and flopped onto his back, panting hard with his tongue hanging from the corner of his mouth.
“My turn?” asked Harness.
Razorwing nodded. “Yeah. I think I can balance on your back.” On wobbly hooves, he draped himself over the top of Harness and held onto the leather straps around his spotted body. “Just don’t feel bad if you can’t take us as far as you’re imaaaAAAAA!”
Harness jumped, springing the duo across hundreds of feet in seconds. When his hooves hit the ground, he galloped at phenomenal speeds for an earth pony, leaving behind a white and brown trail the likes of which Razorwing had only seen from pegasi.
“Sweet succulent Celestia!” Razorwing swore, shivering. “How are you doing this!?”
“Maybe I’ll explain in Ponyville,” Harness said over his shoulder in a steady, undisturbed voice. “Mare Do Well wanted to know as well.”
Razorwing scowled. “Huh, really? Weird, she didn’t mention it. At all.” He checked the bottom of one of his hooves. “Barely said a word about you, actually.”
Harness bounded into another long leap. Startled, Razorwing’s loose hoof wiggled wildly until it latched onto one of the metal rings and held on tightly.
Harness grinned, but said nothing.
(/\/\)
Facetfire screamed and pointed up. “Mare Do Well, look! The zebras are getting reinforcements! And they can fly!”
With a grin, Mare Do Well calmly said, “No. That’s Spritemare.”
“Huh?” Facetfire squinted into the blue sky. “But… there are, like, eight zebras up there!”
“Looks like four to me,” Mare Do Well said. “Plus one passenger. Can you send up a flare for them?”
The flying zebras noticed the thin stream of fire rise out of the forest and adjusted their course, carrying a slight, moss-green stallion between the four of them. When the stallion’s hooves were safely on the ground, three of the zebras vanished, leaving only Spritemare to make introductions.
“Synapse, this is Mare Do Well,” she said with a nod. “Mare Do Well, Synapse. He’s a quiet type.”
Indeed, Synapse had nothing to add to the introduction. Mare Do Well took in his peculiar appearance. His coat was dark green, his long mane black with a remarkable shine. The bags under his eyes did not match their neon color, and it seemed as though something was sparking behind his eyes, like watching a lightning storm through thin drapes. Most striking, however, was the broken horn on his head, jagged at its center as though someone had snapped off the tip. He wore only a heavy, velvet cloak, longer than Mare Do Well’s, that covered his tail and Cutie Mark.
“Thank you for coming, Synapse,” Mare Do Well greeted him. “Spritemare, thanks for bringing him. And this is Facetfire of Phillydelphia.”
“Okay, you’ve gotta tell me what that was all about,” Facetfire said, staring wide-eyed at Spritemare. “Were those other zebras also you?”
Spritemare opened her mouth to explain. Something crashed through the branches of a nearby tree, frightening the heroes. They turned toward the sound, ready to fight.
Harness landed hard, spraying dirt in all directions. Razorwing flopped off his back and smiled blearily at Mare Do Well. “Got him!” he said, his voice cracking.
“Thank you, Razorwing,” Mare Do Well said. She smiled under her mask. “Welcome, Harness.”
Harness nodded. “I hope we didn’t keep you waiting long,” he said to the group.
“Well hey there, Harness,” Facetfire said with a scowl.
“Facetfire.”
“Good, we all know each other!” said Razorwing, flipping onto his hooves and stretching out his wings. “Except the magician over here. Jeez, what happened to your horn?”
Synapse blinked. “It broke,” he said in a youthful, scratchy voice.
Razorwing gulped. “Uh… does it still work? Or did its magic transfer into your cape?”
“Razorwing!” said Spritemare. “Be nice.”
Razorwing bit his lip. “Whoops, sorry… not trying to be rude. I’m just, y’know, I want to know what everypony can do before we barge into Ponyville pretending to be a team.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Spritemare said. She turned to Synapse with a gentle smile. “What is it you do, Synapse? I’ve heard rumors from Baltimare, but I’d like to know from you.”
Synapse wouldn’t look at her. “You first,” he said.
“I can fly,” said Spritemare, flapping her insect-like wings. “I’m stronger than I should be. And I can create a few copies of myself.”
“That’s incredible!” said Facetfire. She cleared her throat and threw her head back in a regal pose. “Hello everypony, I’m Facetfire. I can manipulate fire and minds.”
“Just fire,” growled Mare Do Well.
“Heh…” Facetfire’s pose wilted a bit. “Well, I’m good at getting others to do what I want. Nothing magical about that part, though.”
“Thank goodness,” said Spritemare, smiling. “We’ve already had to deal with that back home. Razorwing?”
He saluted. “Top tier flier, super strong armor, and I have blades along the fronts of my wings.” He dropped his hoof and scuffed at the ground. “For emergencies.”
Harness was quick. “Harness. Quite strong, often quiet.”
Facetfire raised an eyebrow. “Quiet like you don’t talk much, or you’re good at being sneaky?”
“Both,” said Harness and Mare Do Well at the same time.
Mare Do Well looked to Synapse. “And you?”
Synapse looked away. “I absorb energy and let it out in concentrated shockwaves.”
“Whoa!” said Facetfire. “Winner!”
“What about you, Mare Do Well?” asked Spritemare. “Want to tell us what you do?”
Before she answered, Mare Do Well took in the sight of all six vigilantes gathered in one place.
“I protect this nation from those who would destroy it,” she said. “With all the help I can get. Each of you have risen from the masses to protect the cities you love. Not far from here, an town that I myself love dearly suffers at the hooves of violent invaders. I ask you as a humble servant of hope and a fellow protector of ponykind, will you fight with me for the restoration of its well deserved harmony?”
(/\/\)
The wide roads of Ponyville were packed with zebra warriors, densest around the brightly lit Town Hall. Something was clearly happening inside, and the warriors stood at the ready with spears in hoof, guarding vigilantly against any who would disturb.
Pockets of frightened ponies sat close together all through the city, surrounded by intimidating masks and a language they didn’t understand.
A line of especially broad zebras stood shoulder to shoulder directly in front of the Town Hall’s entrance. Their chests were large and prominent, their spears tall and glistening. Nothing could break the concentration of those seasoned warriors. From behind their colorful, ugly masks, they watched for any disturbances among the ponies their brothers in arms were keeping quiet.
Thk-thk-thk-thk-thk-thk-thk-thk.
The sharp spearheads of the zebras’ weapons dropped from above, bumping the tops of their heads before flopping uselessly to the ground.
The zebras glanced at each other and at the ends of their spears. Something had sliced clean through the wood, lopping off the spearheads. Warily they looked around, speaking to each other in simple, rhythmic tones.
“That sure is a nifty language you got there,” Razorwing said. “Say, are you the ones that put little clicks in your words? I gotta learn how to do that.”
Dozens of zebras in front of Town Hall looked up at the armored pony, tossing a spearhead from one hoof to the other while he sat nonchalantly on the edge of the building’s circular roof. He grinned and waved. “Nice spears! Might want to look into a tougher wood, though.”
One of the large zebras lifted his pointless stick above his head and shouted a short series of sounds that could only be described as a war cry. The chant was quickly picked up and repeated by hundreds of zebras throughout the city.
Razorwing gulped. “Uh oh.”
“Yureeeebe kuwe peh-tah!” the zebra shouted, then used his broken spear to vault himself at Razorwing.
“Aaahh!” Razorwing screamed and rolled to the side just before the zebra tackled him. “Holy smokes, these guys are for real!”
The zebra landed on the roof and rushed at him, ramming into Razorwing with his shoulder and knocking him off the building.
“Thank Celestia for wings!” Razorwing said, spreading his armored pair and twisting right side up as he fell. He flew through another group of zebras holding up their spears, cutting off the sharp tips with his wings. He laughed. “Too easy!”
From far away, a zebra warrior threw her spear like a javelin. Its aim was true and, just as Razorwing started to turn, it pierced through the lightweight armor of his right wing and stuck halfway, so that the shaft balanced in equal measure on either side of his wing.
“Gaah!” Razorwing barely had time to look before he lost all momentum, dropping into a crowd of zebras like a bowling ball. He groaned in pain and pulled the spear out of the front of his wing, letting his own blood dribble over his armor. “Thanks, karma…” he said.
The zebras he had knocked over scrambled to their hooves and readied their spears to stab him while he was down. Razorwing turned his back to them and curled into a ball. Though they tried to pierce the armor over his spine, the metal proved stronger than their spears.
“Little help here!” Razorwing yelled as loud as he could.
A huge ball of flame whizzed over Razorwing and exploded on the ground behind the attacking zebras. They shouted in fear and ran from the boom, but in their haste several of them bumped into the wide chest of Harness. Facetfire sat on his back with one hind leg crossed over the other, spinning another fireball above her synthetic horn.
“I’d leave him alone, if I were you,” she sneered down at the zebras.
Shouting angrily, the zebras paid no mind to her words and pulled her down from Harness’ back. She squeaked as the fireball above her head puffed out like a blown candle. She landed on her side and cowered while the zebras around her kicked and stomped on her body.
“Get them off!” she screamed.
Harness roared and barreled over the zebras, careful not to step on Facetfire while he chased her abusers away. She used a burst of fire under her hooves to jump to a nearby chimney and wrapped her limbs around it. Wincing in pain, she watched the battle continue below.
As a group of masked zebras marched to help their companions against Harness, they were suddenly ambushed from inside their circle. Three identical zebras punched, spun, and kicked the members of the group until it had dwindled to a single confused warrior.
“Yureebe kuwe peh-ta?” the warrior grumbled.
Spritemare, Spritemare, and Spritemare simultaneously punched him in the back of the neck. He tipped over without a grunt.
“Harness!” one of the Spritemares cried out. “We need to get inside that building. I bet that’s where the warlock is.”
“And how—” Harness picked up a zebra. “—do you propose—” He swung the zebra in a wide arc, knocking back several others. “—we do that?”
Spritemare pointed. “I’ll clear a path. Think you can break the door down?”
Harness knocked two zebras’ heads together and nodded at Spritemare. “Almost certainly,” he said, already waiting to sprint.
Spritemare clenched her teeth and concentrated. Aside from the two copies at her sides, three more appeared floating above her on buzzing wings. The six of them turned toward the largest group of zebras between Harness and Town Hall and cut into their lines, keeping close to the ground as they darted through the crowd, pushing warriors aside to part an uneven path.
Harness bolted forward as soon as he saw a chance. Some zebras managed to plant their spears into a few of Spritemare’s clones. The doppelgangers fell and disintegrated, leaving nothing but a stinging sensation in Spritemare’s own flesh.
“Ahh! I’m sorry, I-I can’t…” she said, trying to hold back the zebras while Harness charged. The path began to fill, but Harness didn’t slow down.
Mare Do Well swooped from above and kicked aside two zebras as she landed. With punches like lightning strikes, she drove the crowd aside, leaping out of Harness’ way at the last moment. The great stallion lowered his head and aimed for the doors of Town Hall…
They opened from the inside, and a tall zebra wielding a gnarled staff thrust it out in front of him. The moment the fabric of Harness’ mask touched the foggy green orb at the end of the staff, his body froze mid-gallop, suspended in a peculiar, swirling darkness.
King Zimbaya twisted the staff, and Harness was thrown back with a loud boom. Mare Do Well leapt for the staff, but a meager flick of Zimbaya’s wrist sent her tumbling to the side.
The warlock surveyed his fallen warriors, said something loudly in his language, and raised the staff above his head. A pulse of green energy from it coated the zebras’ bodies in a shimmering green light. They cheered and helped their fallen companions to their hooves, training their eyes on whichever vigilante was nearest to them.
“What’s going on?” asked Facetfire from the rooftop.
Synapse stepped out of the shadows where he had hidden unnoticed. “He gave them impenetrable shields,” he said while helping Harness up. His broken horn was crackling with green electricity. “They will feel no pain from our blows.”
The warlock closed the doors of Town Hall, and hundreds of shielded zebra warriors slowly made circles around each of the vigilantes.
Razorwing, leaning against a wall directly below Facetfire, watched them approach warily. He rotated his injured wing at its joint. “Hold on, you’re saying they can’t be punched?” he asked loudly. “Or… cut?”
“We will not be able to hurt them,” Synapse replied. “Though they may yet be toppled over, I think.”
Razorwing grinned. “Awesome.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Razorwing stomped his two left hooves forward and swung his uninjured wing at neck height. Its blade did not cut through the green shields, but its force was enough to knock over the zebras around him like dominoes.
“All right!” shouted Razorwing. “Let’s do this!”
Mare Do Well leapt on one of the zebra’s heads. His neighbors tried to stab her with their spears, but she was too quick, rolling off the zebra’s back into a low glide. She bounced like a pinball from warrior to warrior until she arrived between Harness’ and Synapse.
“Spritemare, help Razorwing!” Mare Do Well shouted. “Synapse, see if you can’t coax Facetfire down from her perch. Harness, you’re with me.”
“What’s the goal here?” asked Spritemare, flying over the zebras to where Razorwing spun gleefully, slapping them back with his outstretched wings.
“Breach Town Hall,” said Mare Do Well, “and break that staff.”
“I like it!” said Razorwing. “Nice and simple!” He jumped forward and slammed two zebras in their chests with the flats of his armored hooves. Spritemare flew down and tripped them from behind, snatching away their spears while they fumbled over each other.
Mare Do Well said to Harness, “I’ll be quick, you be heavy.”
“Deal.”
Reaching into the pockets of her belt, Mare Do Well produced a stack of thin metal plates emblazoned with her insignia. Like dealing cards, she quickly flicked them at the zebra warriors’ masks one after another. The zebras flinched, and Harness wasted no time, swinging heavy hooves and bucking massive legs to incapacitate as many of them as he could.
Mare Do Well snaked just ahead of his rampage, delivering swift punches to zebra ribs, knees, and masks. While her jabs didn’t seem to hurt them, it was distracting enough for Harness to land devastating hits to their necks and the tops of their heads, knocking them over if not unconscious.
Stealing a spear from a fallen zebra, Mare Do Well dug the sharp end into the ground and spun around the pole, kicking the same five zebras over and over until Harness rammed them with his shoulder and smacked them down with his forehead.
Spritemare and Razorwing had a similar tactic, although—between flight and increased numbers—it was easier for Spritemare to bother and distract the zebras while Razorwing let loose his wings, spinning and smacking to his heart’s content.
“Ooohhh, I’m getting dizzy!” Razorwing said through a wide smile. “I’m gonna vom! This is awesome!”
Alerted by the sounds of battle, zebras stationed all over Ponyville poured into the main square. Surrounded on every side by increasing waves of screaming warriors, the vigilantes were soon overpowered. Spritemare was pulled down by her hind hooves; Razorwing had to tuck in his wings to avoid another spear wound; more than a dozen zebras swarmed over Harness’ writhing body like ants; Mare Do Well’s cape was pinned to the ground with several spears, choking her.
“Oh no!” Facetfire said, tightening her grip around the chimney. “What do I do?”
Synapse lifted his hoof to her. “Blast me with fire!” he shouted.
“What?”
“Shoot fire at me! As much as you can make!”
Facetfire guffawed. “No! Why would I do that?”
“Trust me, I know what to do!”
Shaking her head, Facetfire cried out, “I can’t!”
A fearsome light sparked behind Synapse’s eyes. “Do it or we will all die here,” he said in a resonant voice.
Frightened, Facetfire closed her eyes, charged up magic in her horn, and shot a blazing stream of fire at Synapse.
The zebras encroaching on Synapse jumped away as the fire encased his whole body. Facetfire opened her eyes and gasped at the flames below, trapped in a quivering field of energy that pulsed from Synapse’s broken horn. In concentrated strings, the fire changed color and orbited his body, entering his horn like a vacuum sucking up otherworldly spaghetti.
“Dear Luna…” breathed Facetfire.
Synapse’s body shone like magic itself; his heavy cloak billowed around him without wind. He galloped for Town Hall. Terrified zebras jumped out of his way, grasshoppers in the path of a cat. Those brave enough to try and stop him with their hooves and spears were thrown aside by loud surges of power.
Frail as he was, Synapse bowled through the entire zebra army, reared up on his hind legs, slammed his hooves onto the bolted door, and buried his broken horn in its wood.
The glow in his body briefly transferred to the door, and then it exploded. The event was bright, loud, and short, devoid of stray splinters or spreading fire. In a thunderous flash, Town Hall’s large front door was there one moment and gone the next.
The battlefield was silent. Synapse dropped to his belly, breathing hard.
Razorwing glanced up at Facetfire. “Winner,” he said with a smirk.
Slowly, Synapse rose to his hooves and glared at the army of zebras over his shoulder. Between strands of his long black hair, tiny bolts of lightning arced behind his eyes.
In a loud and desperate commotion, close to a thousand Zebraharan warriors swiftly fled the village.