Equestria was a tinderbox but not of the usual political intrigue and scandals. No. Instead, it had been more than a hundred days since any rain had fallen. The pegasi, those oh so wonderful workers of the weather, were unable to help, having been struck with the widest spread and most crippling feather flu in recent history.
You were lucky to see a pegasus on the streets, let alone in the sky. And so, the usually vibrant green luscious lands of Equestria had turned golden and brown. And not from any impending harvest. With all the plants and ponies crying out in need of rain, it only took a single spark to set the blaze.
A pity there was more than one…
And now the country burned. From Baltimare to Vanhoover, Los Pegasus to Manehatten the fires raged. Taking homes, crops, villages and forests alike. The fires didn’t care. They were hungry and their favourite food was in abundance.
Across the plains and up the mountains the flames raced, surging in the heat. Ponies fled as fast as they could, leaving what they couldn’t carry with them to a burning fate. The few who remained to fight for what was theirs did so knowing what could easily come of them.
As the smoke from the blazes blotted out much of the sky, turning the day to a red twilight, those who had cried out looked to the sky in horror as thick black clouds rumbled across the sky. A massive roiling thunderhead had arrived, ready to ignite the rest of the lands. They need not have feared this storm, however, for it was not as wild as it appeared. Flashes of lightning illuminated pockets of the clouds giving the faintest glimpse of what brought it forth.
Flash! A silhouette of a pony head.
Flash! A glimpse of a leathery wing.
The massive cloud formation began to rumble. Starting softly, it quickly grew in strength and, strangely, was joined by a kind of music not usually heard over Equestria proper, especially Canterlot where ponies across the class divides all looked to the sky.
Celestia stood on a balcony, watching as the clouds rolled in and the oddly tinny music continued to swell.
Flash! Another silhouette of flapping wings.
Flash! Lightning rippled across the entire mass of clouds.
Luna stepped up beside her sister, her gaze fixed on the events in the sky.
“They’ve come,” said Celestia, a tinge of relief in her voice.
Luna nodded. “Their taste in music has changed since last I witnessed their arrival.”
“Let’s hope they are up to the task,” Celestia said, biting her lower lip.
“They will do what is needed,” Luna stated.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sound from the cloud reverberated across the lands as a single batpony shot out of the cloud, swooping higher into the sky as if surveying the raging fires they were about to face. With the music reaching a shrill peak. The batpony let out a cry. “Equestria! You’ve been—”
He spread his wings and rolled back over himself towards the cloud mass. When his hooves hit, the cloud erupted in a wild display of lightning. The roar it emitted was just as deafening as the pounding of the music as columns of cloud burst from the mass like thick, deep grey tendrils of vapour.
“THUNDERSTRUCK!” screamed the batpony. Behind him, other batponies emerged, some slamming their hooves on drums they carried while others jammed on electric guitars powered by the very lightning of the cloud they had conjured. As the batponies of rock continued to play, the columns of cloud swept toward the ground.
Some who watched as the columns raced past managed to glimpse flashes of orange and yellow at the columns’ very tips. As the columns rushed along, skirting the lands just above the ground, unicorns dressed in protective orange barding dropped to the ground.
They didn’t pause for breath. Instead, ignoring the warnings shouted at them by the locals, they lit their horns and charged for some assigned spot which only they knew. Above them, the columns of cloud flew on, twisting higher as they approached the fires. With the heat and their speed, the very tips of each column began to burn away, revealing entire wings of five batponies.
Clad in the bright yellow of their protective barding, they dragged the clouds with them on their wings and tails. Swirling this way and that, they twisted the columns into great whirling masses and, when they had the composition just right, the unicorns in orange, stallion and mare alike, lit their horns and formed long walls of interconnected magical shields. Behind them, the homes and ponies who feared the flames and for missing loved ones alike.
“THUNDERSTRUCK!” the batpony on the main cloud screamed again. He slammed his hooves into the cloud again, unleashing yet another roar from the elemental behemoth they had summoned. Yet, no lightning appeared, leaving the fire weary ponies to watch in wonder and confusion at what had made the sound.
Then, those closest to the cloud columns heard it. It started as a hiss but rapidly grew until…
An absolute torrent of rain burst forth from the columns of cloud, spraying out in every direction. And the yellow clad batponies continued to fly, dragging the clouds and roaring rains along with them.
The wild nature of what they brought forth wasn’t left completely untamed as the unicorns in orange used their magical shields to redirect the wayward water, intensifying the quenching strength of what the batponies had brought to bear. And then they marched, as one they moved, stepping not towards the safety of the villages, but towards the fires which raged before them.
The local ponies watched in a mixture of horror and awe as the Batstralian batponies and the unicorns of Neigh Zealand moved ever forward. They had heard the call. Not great in number, but with a spirit and drive all their own, they would fight for the lands of their far northern kin.
And fight they did.
For every inch of soil, every scrap of standing building, every tree yet to ignite, they fought. It wasn’t the easiest of battles, and often meant tracking back over lands reclaimed to douse the stubborn spot fires.
Some who had gathered and tried to fight for their homes even as the flames drew rapidly near were left stunned as this force of firefighting ponies moved inexorably through. The marker of how close some families had come, the charred former plants and grasses which encircled their somehow intact homes. The firefighting ponies asked for little and the locals gladly gave it. A place to rest, some food to eat and water to drink before joining the front lines again.
When finally, the fires had been tamed, and the damage became known, the grateful ponies of Equestria knew one thing; they could rebuild.
They gave their thanks, shared meals and cider before the Batstralians and Neigh Zealanders moved on. They never gave their names. They didn’t ask for praise or accolades. The survival of those they fought for was all they needed.
They came to help. They fought and saved. Then they left. Their job was done and they had to return home. For soon, they would face the same conditions in their homelands…