//------------------------------// // Chapter 12: The Storm // Story: Brightly Lit // by Penalt //------------------------------// “Wild were the winds that came In the thunder and the rain Nothing ever could contain The rising of the storm.” - “The Storm”, Blackmore’s Night     Montcalm signed off with the group at the dam and looked to where the rest of his team was attacking the body of a fallen giant.  For decades, probably centuries, the massive tree had stood on the ridge overlooking Carmanah Lake, watching the turn of the seasons with implacable patience.  Until this night, when erosion and the winds of a once in a hundred year storm had finally toppled the giant so that it now lay across the roadway.     The tree trunk was massive, almost ten feet or three meters across.  It had fallen down the steep cliff to lie across the road at an angle, blocking it completely.  After the flatness of the road the cliff continued down steeply to the edge of the lake.  If the trunk could be severed, the bulk of the ancient tree would carry off down the embankment, but getting through that mass of timber was proving to be a problem.     “Sorry Darrell,” Arnold Kye, one of his men said to him.  “We only have the two saws and neither of them have a bar longer than two feet.  We’re going to have to chunk our way through and hope neither of the saws bind up on the wood.”  Darrell nodded, knowing the problem well.  In the wet weather the wood of the trees would be swelling, threatening to bind against the bar of the chainsaws and locking them immovably in place.  Even as the thought crossed his mind he heard the snarl of one of the saws sputter to a halt.     “Fuck!” John Vatten, one of his hosemen, cursed as he jerked futilely at the chainsaw he had been wielding.  “I’m jammed.  Does anyone have a splitting wedge and a maul?”     “We didn’t come expecting to chop wood,” Ernie Harding, the entry specialist with the volunteer fire department said.  “No wedges and a fire axe can’t be hammered into a gap, not with that spike on its backside.  Arnie, see if you can cut around and free up John.”     “Right,” Arnold said, turning away from his mayor, who was also the fire chief.  Montcalm let out a bit of a sigh and turned toward three of the newest members of his team.  A group of big eyed colourful ponies that stood beside him in the pouring rain of the storm, looking to him for direction.     “I don’t suppose you Power Ponies have any suggestions?” he calmly asked their leader, a small yellow unicorn with a black mane and tail who went by the name "Shield Maiden.”     “Not really, Sir,” Shield Maiden said.  “That tree is way too thick for Iron Hoof to try to buck through and our fliers are at the dam already.  You know, you don’t have to use our pony names, if you don’t want to.  You know who we are already, don’t you?”     “Yup,” Montcalm said, reaching down to put a comforting hand on the shoulder of the young, and to his mind very brave, pony.  “When this is all done, you kids and your parents will have a nice quiet chat about all this with me in the mayor’s office.  Brightly’s mayors have been told to expect something like you kids for a long time now.  But for right now, I think it best we keep your names under wraps unless we have to, okay?”  The ponies nodded to him in response.     “Um, you know I might be able to buck that,” Iron Hoof, the pony who had already demonstrated a talent for breaking apart trees, said.  “If Shield Maiden here could make another one of those force wedges of hers, and I bucked it really hard...”     “Son, that tree is about three meters across,” Montcalm said, smiling at the pony.  “Way I figure it, you would have to buck through about seventy cubic feet of wood.  I know you kids are good, but I don’t think you’re that good.”     “Um, what if I helped,” said the third pony of the group, a scarlet coated, purple maned mare who went by the name ‘Seeker’.   “I could find the weakest point in the trunk for him to buck.”     “C’mon Shield Maiden, we’ve got to try,” Iron Hoof said passionately to the pony leader.  “It’s gonna take them forever to get through otherwise, and we’ve gotta get to the dam quick.”     “I’m gonna regret this, I know it,” Shield Maiden said, grimacing.  “But I think you’re right, Iron Hoof.  Seeker, go find us a weak spot.”     “Hey guys,” Montcalm yelled over the din of the remaining chainsaw.  “Back off for a minute, the ponies are going to try something.”  The rest of the firemen, having seen what their diminutive allies could do, stepped back from the fallen tree, as the light of their truck headlights continued to illuminate the work area through the raindrops.  Seeker walked slowly along the length of the tree bole, running her hoof along it.  After about a minute she stopped and tapped a spot in the initial wedge that the firemen had cut.     “Here,” she said, gouging the wood slightly with her solid hoof.  “This is the weakest part of the trunk.  Hit it here.”     “Right,” Shield Maiden said, as she again created a splitting wedge for Iron Hoof to strike, out of thin air and her glowing orange magic.  “Better back off a bit, this could get messy.”  The firemen all took a few steps back at that.     “Can his hooves stand up to that?” Arnold Kye, Iron Hoof’s father, said to his friend, whose own transformed children were already at the dam.     “Don’t know,” Ernie replied, with a shrug.  “He cracked a hoof on smaller trees before.  It just depends on whether or not that wedge reduces the shock of impact like it did before.”     Iron Hoof lined himself up in front of the glowing wedge of power his friend had created for him.  He knew how much everyone was counting on him and how much depended on this.  If he couldn’t clear the way for the firemen to get to the dam and fix it, his town, his friends and his neighbors could be washed away in a flood of rushing water.     “Can do this, will do this,” Iron Hoof muttered, as he measured the distance between himself and the wedge.  To one side, the stuck chainsaw still poked out of the trunk like a badly shaped arrow, its metal surfaces gleaming in the rain and the headlights. The pony took one last deep breath and let instinct guide him into a perfect spinning double back kick, his hooves impacting on the wedge like twin hammers swung by the arm of Thor himself.  There was a deafening crack of thunder, a flash of light and one end of the now flaming trunk went hurtling a full five meters back up the embankment, where it lodged against the base of another tree.  The main piece of the massive tree, one end burning from the explosive release of kinetic energy, slowly tipped over the downward side of the road and crashed its way through the brush as it fell toward the surface of the lake, some thirty or so meters downslope. “That was awesome,” Arnold Kye said, running up to where his son lay on the ground after his massive effort.  His pleased grin turned to horror as he saw that the trunk of the great tree wasn’t the only thing that Billy had shattered.  Both of his son’s rear legs had been broken into compound fractures from the impact, his flesh and bone unable to withstand the massive power he had unleashed.  Even as Arnold looked on, heartsick, he could see blood beginning to flow freely from the wounds where the sharp ends of the broken bones poked through his son’s flesh. “Hey Dad,” Iron Hoof said, looking up at his father in a daze.  “I did it.  I got the tree cleared.” “Oh God,” Arnold said, throwing himself over his son’s upper body.  “Oh God, don’t move son.  Jessica, get up here!  Man down!”  The department’s paramedic, Jessica Harkins, came running up from the rescue truck where she had been. “What’s wrong?” Billy asked, confused, as he looked down at his rear legs.  “Oh, s’okay, I don’t feel a thing.”  Jessica ran up in time to hear that. “He’s going into shock,” Jessica said, recognizing the signs and knowing the danger the young pony was in.  “Kevin, get up here with the inflatable tourniquet, blankets and the splinting kit. Now!”  Her partner was already throwing open panels on their vehicle to pull the items out of their storage spaces. “Oh God, son,” Arnold said, openly weeping as he held Billy’s head, as the paramedic began to try to slow the bleeding.  “Stay with me.  I can’t afford to lose you too.  Stay with me.”  Another of the firemen, looking on helplessly, wanting to help but knowing he had to stay out of the way, went over to stand beside his chief. “Son?” John Vatten whispered to Montcalm.  “That’s his kid?  And the rest of the ponies?”  He gestured toward where the other two ponies were crying beside their fallen friend. “Jean Pedersen and Ernie Harding’s kids.  Once I knew who one of them was, it wasn’t hard to figure out who the rest were,” Montcalm said, before shooting a hard look at his man.  “Are we going to have a problem with that?” “Not me, and not anyone else ever, if I have anything to say about it,” John said firmly, then his voice shifted as he began to quote.  “For he today that sheds his blood with me, Shall be as my brother; be he ne'er so vile, this day shall gentle his condition.” “That’s not how the quote goes,” Montcalm said, as the medtechs worked to save a young life. “Don’t care,” John said.  “They’re our kids, our ponies... I guess.  And I’ll kick the ass of anyone that tries to hurt them.” “Good man,” Darrell said, clapping him on the shoulder.  “Now if only we don’t lose one of them.”  As they looked on, they saw Arnold’s friend and neighbor come up and put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Dear Lord,” Ernie began, he wasn’t usually open about his religion, but he felt this was the time for it if anytime was, “be with my friend and his son in their hour of pain.  Strengthen them, ease their suffering.  Honor their brave and generous hearts.  Amen.”  It was a short prayer, but what it lacked in length, it made up for in heart. For a moment after the ‘Amen’, the only sounds were those of the rain coming down, the soft work of the two paramedics and the dying crackle of the tree trunk pieces as their fire was washed out by the driving rain. Then a strange sound came to the group clustered around the injured boy.  It was the sound of hooves clip-clopping along solid ground, drawing nearer, but the sound was coming from the empty air over the lake.  Then, to the astonishment of the firefighters the sound resolved itself into an equine outline, one with no real features but whose dark blue body was filled with a million twinkling points of light.  As if someone had made a winged unicorn pony out of the night itself and filled it with stars. “Death,” Shield Maiden whispered in a barely audible voice, her tear-filled eyes wide in fear. “You stay away from them,” John said, carrying a fire axe and moving to place his body between the figure and his friends.  “If you want him, you’re going to have to come through me first!” Thirty minutes earlier, in Equestria Princess Celestia, the Solar Diarch, might have been very much a morning pony, but she was also very much NOT a pony who liked being woken up in the middle of the night.  So, it was with a growl that she woke to somepony pounding heavily upon her bedroom door in the dark of night. “Go away,” Celestia commanded, in a sleepy voice that held absolutely no authority at all.  “Go away... before I send you to the moon.” “‘Tia, wake up,” Luna’s voice came through the door.  “There is an urgent message from Twilight. She needs us at her castle immediately.” “Wait, what?” Celestia asked, even as Luna burst open the door. “Twilight had Spike send a message,” Luna said, impatient as her sister’s mind came up to speed.  “The mirror is flaring, somepony on the other side is drawing on the magic again.  A lot of it.” “Granny Smith?” Celestia asked, bolting out of bed as she fully grasped what was going on. “Already there,” Luna said, grabbing her sister’s hoof and teleporting them both to Twilight’s castle in Ponyville.  The sisters arrived in the map room of Twilight’s castle, where they immediately saw Frozen Quill and Twilight Sparkle bent over the hoof mirror that was this side of the portal to another world. “Thank goodness you’re here!” Twilight exclaimed, running up to hug Celestia.  “The mirror.  The mirror’s portal is pulling in a lot of magic all of a sudden.  Whoever is on the other side is really working their pony magic.” “Are you certain it is one pony, Twilight Sparkle?” Luna asked the purple alicorn. “I, yes, that makes more sense,” Twilight said, after a moment’s thought had her realizing what the Princess of the Night was driving at.  “It’s more likely five or six ponies.  Maybe a few more, but not many.” “Luna,” Celestia said, her magic covering the mirror for a moment.  “Can you feel that?” “Yes,” Luna said, after a moment’s concentration and use of her own magic.  “But how is it possible?  You told me that there are no actual ponies on the other side.” “How is what possible?” Twilight asked, nearly shouting the question in her desire to know what was going on.  To one side at the table, Frozen Quill took notes of the conversation as fast as he could make his quill fly over the paper. “Twilight, there is Cutie Mark magic going in through the portal,” Celestia said.  “Lee Ung or perhaps his children are doing something special and are likely about to take their place in their world fully as ponies.” “But, is it even possible for someone transformed into a pony to get a cutie mark?” Twilight asked, looking from one princess to the other.  “And even if it is, is there enough magic to do the job?” “Lee Ung never abused the abilities we gave him,” Celestia said, her eyes distant.  “We have to assume that his descendants follow in his hoofsteps, and that the magic will do what needs to be done.” “But Sister,” Luna said, frowning.  “There cannot be enough Cutie Mark magic on the other side to allow one pony to attain their mark, let alone several.  Those ponies would be forever unable to reach their full potential and that could not be good for them.” “I know, Luna,” Celestia said, looking around.  “Which is why we shall send as much of our magic through as we can to prevent that.  We won’t need Granny Smith for this, thankfully.  Is she doing alright, Twilight?” “The magical turbulence has made her really nauseous,” Twilight said, grimacing.  “She’s laying down in one of my extra rooms though, and should be fine.  Spike’s watching her, just in case.” “Simply sending our magic through the portal will not be enough,” Luna said, ears flicking in annoyance.  “If what you told me of the other side is accurate, the portal opens hundreds of feet underground.  It would take years for our magic to seep through that much earth and stone.” “You have a better idea, Luna?” Celestia asked of her sister, hoping she had a solution. “Indeed Sister,” Luna said, a slight smile replacing her annoyance as she took on the expression of somepony who had just found something.  “We need a vessel to carry our magic swiftly and surely to the surface.  Once there it would be best if our vessel were also able to seek out these new ponies to give them the magic they need directly.” “I agree, Luna,” Celestia said, puzzled.  “But where are you going to find a vessel like that, and can fit through a mirror that is no bigger than the width of a plate?” “Tantabus, come forth,” Luna commanded, and the pony shaped figure of the magical creation that Luna had created to punish her for her crimes as Nightmare Moon walked Equestrian soil once more.  The entity emerged from Luna’s breast and stood there, looking at Luna, as it’s body and mane rippled. “Princess, are you—” Twilight began, only to be cut off by the raised hoof of the Lunar Diarch. “Tantabus,” Luna said, addressing the creature directly.  “I once used you sorely, having you do something that was against your nature for many years.  Can you forgive me?’  The creature, not having a true mouth, said nothing.  Instead it wrapped a hoof around Luna’s neck and hugged her in a gesture that needed no translation. “Thank you,” Luna said, wiping at suspiciously wet eyes for a moment.  “If you are willing, I have a much better task for you.  The task of carrying the magic of my sister and I to those who are in sore need of it.  I shall not lie to you, you may not be able to return once we send you through, but you would be helping myself, my sister, and untold ponies on the other side.  Will you help us?”  The Tantabus seemed to consider this for a moment, then went to one knee in front of Luna. “Thank you, brave Tantabus,” Luna said, smiling.  “Now, let us give you the power you shall need to accomplish your task.  Sister, if you will assist.”  Together, the Princesses of the Sun and the Moon each laid their horns on the shoulder of the Tantabus and fed their power into the nebulous creature until it was filled with starry power fit to bursting. “Now go, Tantabus,” Luna commanded, and in obedience the midnight blue form stood and poured itself through the portal to the other world.  “Go... and thank you.”