Rarity wasn’t ready to admit yet that she was absolutely terrified, at least not to anyone—pony or zebra—around her as she marched alongside Zircon towards the outskirts of Zeb’ra’den. They were a dozen or so miles from the city’s great outer wall, which was tall enough that Rarity could just make out the solid obsidian frame. More importantly, she could see the wendigo blizzard from here, not just because of the sheer size of the horrible thing, which was large enough to cover the entire city, but because it was approaching the army’s location at a speed far too fast for any natural storm to be moving. Zarya’s description of it didn’t quite do it justice.
But Rarity was not about to admit how terrified she was, not one bit. She’d made her point to everyone back at that war meeting and she was going to live by her decision no matter how frightening this prospect was, especially not now that she’d gotten this far. One thing was for sure, however, and that was that she was horribly underdressed for this weather. It was absolutely freezing out here, cold enough to bite straight through her winter coat—which until now had suited her amazingly well—both because of the fearsome winds and because the army had trekked across a field of snow-covered ice to reach their current position early that evening.
Zircon leaned over to her and placed his own coat over Rarity’s shoulders; the warmth encased her instantly, like she’d had a heavy blanket thrown over her. “Here, taketh this. Thou lookest as though thou art freezing,” he said with a grin.
“Oh no, sweetheart, I couldn’t take this from you,” Rarity said, giving him a small smile and half-heartedly trying to take it off. Truthfully she didn’t want to give it back, but her concern for him outweighed her concern for herself at the moment. Besides, it smelled strongly of him. “What about you? Won’t you be cold out in all of this?”
“This cold hath no power over me. I hath lived in this weather all my life. And besides which, it warms my heart and soul to see thee well, and that is good enough to keep the cold at bay.”
“If you insist.”
Zircon looked out towards the approaching blizzard and steeled his gaze. “The wendigo storm cometh. It shall be upon us within the hour. We must prepareth ourselves for the first waves. 'Twill be a fearsome battle.”
He turned towards Zarya and the rest of the Knights of the Black Flame, who were currently at the front of the army’s battle lines intermingled with House Snow’s army and the forces that House Wind had sent. The army was positioned in a ring-shaped formation as suggested by Venture to prevent the wendigos from reaching the rear lines.
He then hoisted up his falchion, igniting it in black fire. “Knights of the Order, 'tis now that we fight! And fight we shall, even through this cold night! We fight for our home! For those we have lost! And we shall fight on, no matter the cost!”
Every knight in the Order raised their weapons as one, igniting them as Zircon had done with his. “For Zeb’ra’den!” they cheered in unison, their voices booming through the snow. “For the Order!”
Lady Snowstorm, who was in the rear command lines with Zircon and Rarity, turned towards her own troops. “Ponies of Frostburg, present arms!”
Everypony under House Snow’s banner readied their pikes, crossbows, shields, swords, and lances. Every one of them looked ready to fight, though Rarity could see that many of their number were scared, mostly the younger ones.
“We are here tonight to do one zing: crush zese ‘wendigos’ and send zem back to whatever dark pit zey crawled out of. Zey are evil creatures. Zey are horrible monsters. Zey have killed many zebra allies and taken zeir city. But are we afraid?!”
“Nyet, Lady Snowstorm!” called the army as one, their voices booming as one throughout the storm, louder than the knights had been.
“Will we back down?! Will we run away, tails between legs?!”
“Nyet, Lady Snowstorm!”
“And why not?!”
“We are Frostburg! We are House Snow!”
“Zat’s right! Because we are Frostburg! We are House Snow! We are toughest ponies in zee south!” Snowstorm raised her hoof triumphantly, and the troops followed suit. “We will break zis blizzard! We stand as one!”
“We stand as one!”
Snowstorm then smiled, and turned her attention towards the decorated pegasus stallion—light blue coat, cloudy white mane—that stood by her side. “Ah, do you have speech too, Lord Whirlwind?”
The pegasus—Whirlwind, firstborn son of Lord Windwalker, head of House Wind—smiled and shook his head. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Lady Snowstorm, do you? No no, I think you and the Lord-Commander here have already done a proper good job stirring the troops’ spirits. My troops are only here to offer support however we can, not hog the glory.”
“And thy help is greatly appreciated, m’lord,” Zircon said with a slight bow. He then turned to Rarity and put his hoof under her chin. “Rarity, my love, keep thyself by my side at all times. I will keep thee safe from these beasts, I promise.”
Rarity smiled and nodded. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving your side, sweetheart. There’s just one thing I must do before that storm reaches us. I said that I was going to offer my aid to the coming battle, so if you’ll give me just a moment, I have something to give to your knights.”
Zircon nodded back. “Certainly.”
Rarity stepped away from Zircon for a moment and looked out at the army, specifically at the knights with their black fire-coated runic weapons. She cleared her throat. “Knights of the Order of the Black Flame, many of you don’t know exactly who I am, and I’m afraid I don’t know too many of you either. My name is Rarity, and I have a generous gift for all of you. If you would all hold your weapons high and keep those flames lit, please?”
Several of the knights shared brief looks to one another, then shrugged and hoisted their weapons high into the air again as asked. Rarity figured both that her own “reputation” as some sort of avatar of Harmonia, combined with her relationship with their Lord-Commander, gave them no reason to object or question her.
Rarity nodded, took a deep breath, then ignited her horn and let her magic flow out towards every single runic weapon the Order wielded, starting with Zircon’s. Zircon’s eyes widened as her magic enshrouded his blade causing the flames to burst outwards into a raging fire that was barely kept contained by the weapon. Zarya’s longsword did the same, and her reaction was similar to her uncle’s. This repeated for every knight in the Order as their weapons were empowered by Rarity’s spell.
When she was done, Rarity let out another breath and looked out amongst the army again. The knights, with their weapons held high, now stood as pillars of fire that pierced through the clouds above and bathed the entire combined forces—ponies and zebras both—with a pleasant heat that would protect them from the coming storm.
Zircon smiled and turned to Rarity in amazement and wonder. “Thou hast given me this power once before many years ago, didst thou not? I remember this feeling, but 'tis stronger than I recall when I did battle with that… ‘other thee’, as thou hath called her.”
Rarity smiled back. “That’s because I’m stronger now than I was then, and I have better training with my magic after so many years. And, more importantly, it’s because now there is a deeper connection between you and I than there was before.” She set her hoof on his cheek. “I only hope that this is enough to take us through the night.”
Zircon nodded, then gestured towards the coming storm with his blade. The blizzard would be here within the next few minutes. “'Tis time for us to see how thy power fares, then. Prepare thyself, my love, for now, we go to war.” He hoisted his blade up again. “Zebras! Ponies! Together as one, we standeth against the blizzard! For Zeb’ra’den! For the south!”
“For Zeb’ra’den!” called the zebras as one.
“For the south!” called the ponies.
“I sure hope I know what I’m doing,” Rarity sighed. She took another breath, then lit her horn and raised a small shield around herself, just in case, knowing it was low-maintenance enough that she could focus on other spells in the meantime. “Sundial had better not take too long with that Beacon, though.”
*****
Sundial poked her head up out of the tunnel exit, pushing open the well-hidden trapdoor that, from the topside, was practically indistinguishable from the rest of the small supply room it was in. This was the exit that Zircon had said would get them closest to the Beacon, which meant it was located in the royal palace and had likely been used by King Zaratite himself. The room’s cramped size made it easy to see that there was nothing threatening up here, either.
“So far, so good,” she muttered to herself. She hoisted herself out of the tunnel and into the room, then glanced down towards Weaver and Venture and gestured for them to come up as well. “All clear up here. Let’s get a move on.”
Weaver ascended first, climbing up and taking a spot beside Sundial, followed by Venture. The latter glanced around the room, tilting her head as she looked over the contents. “Is this a supply closet or something?” she asked.
“Looks like it,” Weaver said with a nod. “It’s nondescript and unassuming, a perfect location for a secret entrance to a shelter and tunnel system meant to protect the royal family and get them to safety.”
“Aye, it’s a wee bit different from Hope’s Point’s elevators,” Sundial noted as she shut the trapdoor behind them. Once it slid closed, it was like it wasn’t even there at all, sliding perfectly into its slot. If someone didn’t know it was there, they’d never find it. “Alright, so, Zircon said that the route ta the Beacon was just out o’ this room. We take a left, a right, a right, and then another left. Follow me.”
“This is so exciting,” Venture said, hopping in place as she followed Sundial out of the room. “Fixing this Beacon has been a long time coming, hasn’t it? It’s a real shame that we needed that Key to do it, though, huh? I bet Harmonia would’ve done this herself years ago if she knew how to do it without that little gadget.”
Sundial nodded and started off down the hall outside the room. “Would’ve saved us all a lot o’ trouble, wouldn’t it? If only the gryphons weren’t so bloody paranoid and put all these precautions in place. I still don’t know how Silvertongue bypassed it all those years ago.” She shook her head. “But aye, we’re gonna bloody well fix this mess up, then we can all rest easy and take a vacation or something. Harmonia knows I need one.”
Venture patted Sundial on the shoulder. “You really do, Sundial, believe me. You work so hard to do your job so well—and you’re so good at it!—that I’m sure nopony would argue if you wanted to have a little breather for however long you needed. For what it’s worth, I definitely hope you get your chance to relax when this is all over.”
“Right. Thanks, lass. Come on, we’re getting close. I don’t know how long this is gonna take, so we’d better not waste any time. We’ve got a lot o’ folks counting on us.”
“Do you think they’re gonna be okay out there?” Weaver asked. “I’m worried about Rarity. A warzone isn’t the place for somepony like her.”
“I haven’t got a bloody clue, but if being around Flurry Heart for so long has taught me anything, it’s that we just gotta have a bit o’ hope for the best. Rarity seemed pretty confident in herself, so we might as well have confidence in her, too ”
After following the halls—left, right, right, then left—the trio found themselves at the entrance into the Beacon courtyard. Snow and ice covered the ground completely. The yard was decorated with statues and busts of zebra heroes and royals throughout the ages, all covered in snow as well. There was also a conspicuously empty spot, which Sundial figured had been where Silvertongue’s old statue had been, at least according to Tick Tock’s description of the place.
The Beacon itself was situated neatly in the center of the courtyard, an impossibly tall pillar of gleaming white metal shrouded with a dull glowing light. In the sky above, Sundial could see that the wendigo blizzard had mostly moved away from the city. The plan to draw them away had worked splendidly. Whether that was a good thing or not was debatable—on one hoof, it made things easier here, but on the other, it meant the army was facing the entire storm at once.
However, Sundial was more invested in the fact that there was something off about the Beacon. She’d seen it before, years ago, and remembered that there was supposed to be a dull white glow radiating from the structure that would flow out into the sky above, where it was then supposed to spread out and cleanse the air of Darkness, at least when operational. Instead, the glow coming from the Beacon was a very dim orange, though it did not flow out into the sky.
“That’s not right,” she muttered, scratching her head. “Why’s the Beacon glowing like that?”
“Is it not supposed to be?” Weaver asked.
“No, it’s supposed to be glowing white, not orange.”
Venture frowned and shook her head. “There’s something terribly wrong here, I can feel it in the air. That orange color was generated by the northern Beacon, which was the Dark-filled one. It’s not a very strong glow, luckily, but that’s definitely not supposed to be happening. There’s still Light here, but… it’s waning.”
Weaver tilted his head. “Did the wendigos do something to it, maybe? They’re fueled by Dark magic and were servants of Nihila, right?”
“Aye, lad, but I don’t see how they could possibly do anything ta the Beacon on their own.” Sundial shook her head and gestured for the others to follow her forward. “C’mon, let’s see if we can’t figure out what’s wrong with it. I don’t imagine we’ve got a lot o’ time ta muck about with the way that storm’s moving.”
The trio approached the Beacon and circled around to the other side, where the tower’s operations system was—it was a gryphon-designed techno-magic construct, after all, and so it had techno-magic instruments—which they found was already open. Sundial gasped when she saw that it had definitely been tampered with, and she recognized immediately the device that was responsible.
It was a small cube-shaped device that glowed with a dim green light.
“What the bloody hell is that thing doing here?” she muttered, turning to Weaver. “That’s the device yer old Overseer was using before, aye?”
Weaver eyed the device briefly, then nodded. “It is. And it’s attached to the Beacon’s control mechanisms where the Key is supposed to go, from what I can tell. I don’t know what it’s doing, though.”
Venture closed her eyes and shook her head, clearly very worried all of a sudden. “I do. I can feel the difference in the magic in the air. There’s a lot less Light than there should be, and a lot more Darkness. This device is converting the magical energy in the Beacon.”
Sundial’s eyes widened. “What? How can it do that?”
“Because it’s one of the most exquisite techno-magic devices ever made,” said a voice from nearby. “It’s lovely to see you again, by the way.”
The trio wheeled around to face the voice, which Sundial and Weaver recognized very well as belonging to Overseer Pedigree. The Overseer stood at the edge of the courtyard, alone. His horn was horribly cracked and leaked a neon yellow magical residue, but if that bothered Pedigree at all he didn’t show it.
Most importantly, though, the Overseer had clearly been crippled in his attempt to teleport to safety months ago. His limbs were all encased in mechanical constructs comparable to the most advanced prosthetics that Hope’s Point used, only even more robust. He wore a similar construct around his body, not unlike the body armor used by the AMP Troopers the NPAF used.
Pedigree grinned and took a couple of steps forward, as if these mechanical limbs of his were perfectly normal. His eyes were locked on Weaver at the moment. “Well now, look at you, Two-eighteen. I thought for certain that you’d perished from your injuries, but it would seem that I was mistaken. Your earth pony resilience is greater than I anticipated.”
Weaver snorted, but otherwise stood tall. “You were wrong about a lot of things as far as it concerns me, Pedigree.”
“On that, we can agree. For one thing, I was so very wrong in assuming you were worth anything more than a tool, but then you went and failed even at being that.” Pedigree sighed and shook his head. “I certainly hope the next batch produces a more suitable specimen.”
Sundial grunted and settled into a fighting stance. “What are you doing here, ye stuck-up twat? This isn’t just some wonderful coincidence, is it?”
Pedigree chuckled. “I don’t have to explain myself to the likes of pegasus filth such as yourself. But I will say that I do have a truly glorious purpose here, one that you could never hope to grasp in your wildest dreams.”
“You’re converting the Light energy of the Beacon into Dark energy,” Venture said matter-of-factly. “We already figured that part out. Let me guess, though: you’re doing it in order to stop us from diffusing the Beacon properly and rebalancing the world’s magical dichotomy? Probably because you’re a servant of Nihila.”
Sundial stared at Venture for a moment. “That was quick, lass. Ye figured that all out already?”
Venture shrugged. “I mean, yeah, it’s only obvious, isn’t it? We suspected it all along.”
Pedigree frowned, then nodded. “Hmph… well, it would seem as if the Chronomancer can hold good company after all. That’s the most surprising thing out of all of this, if I’m being honest. How she managed to acquire such an astute companion is beyond me, but I assure you, my fellow unicorn, you lower yourself greatly by associating with this flying rat and her mud-eating pet.”
“Alright, I’m done with listening ta you and yer racist shite.” Sundial rolled her shoulders and scuffed her hoof in the snow. “This has been a long time coming, arsehole. Without yer magic, ye don’t have a bloody prayer against the lot o’ us.”
“You would dare to mock my injury?” Pedigree snarled. “Because of you and that simple-minded, disobedient degenerate—” He stopped, then took a breath. “I may have lost the proper use of my horn, but that doesn’t mean I’m defenseless, not in the least. I’m afraid it is you who doesn’t have a prayer.”
Sundial rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, ye got more o’ them fancy drones? Fat lot o’ good those did ye.”
Pedigree gave her a wicked smile. “Not exactly.”
The courtyard then got extremely cold, and the wind and snowfall picked up immensely, as if a huge blizzard had just appeared and was localized entirely within the courtyard. However, despite the fierce, biting winds, Sundial could hear something carrying over the din of the storm, strong enough to hear clearly despite how faint it seemed: somepony was singing. The notes were beautiful, high-pitched and feminine, almost haunting, like an angelic choir.
In an instant, Sundial was filled with an irresistible urge to follow the source of the singing, which was somewhere just behind Pedigree. Whoever was singing had the most delectable voice she’d ever heard before, and it made her heart flutter like a little schoolfilly with a crush. An odd sensation, of course, since she’d never felt like that in her life before this moment.
“Uh, Sundial? What are you doing? What’s going on?” Weaver asked, worried.
A quick glance to her side told Sundial that Weaver clearly couldn’t hear the singing, because he was watching her, confusion all over his face. She stepped alongside him and gave him a dumb smile, tapping his ears in an attempt to get them to work properly.
“Don’t ye hear it, lad?” she asked. “It’s bloody beautiful, it is.”
“All I hear is the wind. Are you alright?”
“Ye don’t hear that singing, lad? That’s a shame, it’s simply lovely. I never had much taste for songs, but this singer is really good.”
Venture stepped forward. “Don’t listen to it, Sundial,” she said, her voice firmer than Sundial had ever heard. Clearly, she couldn’t hear the singing either, because if she could she wouldn’t be saying those words. “Close your ears, and don’t listen to it. It’s not safe. Trust me.”
“Ye sound like a bleeding nutcase, aye? What the bloody hell are ye talking about?”
Pedigree frowned and looked between Venture and Weaver. “Most peculiar. Why are the two of you not affected? Hmph. No matter. Without the Chronomancer, your pathetic plan to diffuse the Beacon will fail. Her death is all that matters.”
Sundial shook her head. “Oy, don’t distract me, arse-face. I’m trying ta hear the song.”
Weaver stepped forward as well, pulling Sundial back and eyeing Pedigree carefully as if to figure out what was going on since he apparently couldn’t hear the lovely song. “Don’t go any closer, Sundial. Listen to Venture, she usually knows what she’s talking about.”
Sundial stared at his hoof, then glared at him. Why was he trying to stop her? Whatever the reason, it was making her angry. “Let go o’ me. I have ta get whoever’s singing, lad.”
“You mean those?”
Weaver pointed off towards one of the figures that was approaching from behind Pedigree, which Sundial recognized instantly as a wendigo from the descriptions that she’d been given by Zarya: an overly large pony made of crystalline blue ice, its mane made of mist. It was singing. Despite knowing the wendigo was dangerous and evil, her heart and mind told her that everything was okay and that she could get closer to it.
There was more than one wendigo, too. A few dozen of them surrounded the courtyard now, though only one of them was singing. Surely if more of them joined in they would have a beautiful harmony going on. Perhaps the others had stage fright? That was simply adorable.
Sundial sighed wistfully. “Aye, the wendigo. She’s a beautiful singer, isn’t she? I just have ta get—”
Venture blasted said wendigo in the face with a bright blast of magic, disintegrating the beast in an instant. “You don’t need to do anything, Sundial, except get behind me and stay away from those monsters. Come on!”
As soon as the singing stopped, Sundial shook her head clear, as if she’d just come out of a daze of some sort. “What the bloody—” She then realized her group was completely surrounded. “Aw shite.”
Pedigree shook his head, disappointed, and glared at Venture like a foal who’d been told he couldn’t have a cookie. “That wasn’t a wise decision, friend. They would have spared you if I asked, but now you will have to die as well. The hard way, I’m afraid.”
The wendigos of the courtyard let out a hideous shriek, their forms no longer beautiful, and moved as one on the trio.
But Venture raised a shining barrier of white, magical light in their way, and it rejected them. The few that had approached first shattered the instant they touched the barrier, and so the others pulled back before they, too, were destroyed.
Pedigree blinked. “What in the— how is your Light so strong? Is this how you were unaffected by the song?”
Venture ignored him and turned to Sundial. “I’ll hold the wendigos at bay for now. You should go and figure out how to fix the Beacon before our friends out there get overrun.”
Sundial glanced around at the barrier that surrounded the trio. “Aye, lass. I guess I’ll just ask ye later how ye’re doing this all by yerself, though.” She shook her head and stepped towards the Beacon’s control mechanism and gave it a good once-over. “Bloody hell, how am I supposed ta fix this?”
“You’ll figure it out, Sundial, I know you will. Just have faith in yourself, okay?”
“Aye, uh… right. Okay then. Thanks, lass.”
Pedigree snarled, putting a hoof to his nose. “No no no, this won’t do. This won’t do at all. I’ve worked too hard and sacrificed too much to let you win so easily, Chronomancer. You’ve got new companions, but I have new tools.”
He rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath. Then, with a loud hiss and a whirr, his mechanical limbs shifted about. Sundial took her attention away from the Beacon for the moment to watch as Pedigree rose up onto his hind legs, which linked to the body armor he was wearing and extended another foot or so, then his forelegs did the same. A number of devices sprung out of the armor, which unfolded into a thicker shape than before. Last, the body armor deployed a helmet than encompassed Pedigree’s head.
“What in the bloody hell is that?” Sundial blurted.
“The latest of my techno-magic marvels, Chronomancer,” Pedigree said, his voice distorted slightly by the helmet. “An improvement to the old AMP Trooper system, designed to be piloted by a pony rather than by a machine. I’ve christened it the Pilot Operated Mechanical Pony.”
“Damn NPAF and all of yer damn acronyms.” Sundial shook her head. “Well, ye’re only a few letters away from ‘pompous’, then, aren’t ye, ye pompous arse?”
“You laugh now, but you won’t be in a moment.” Pedigree pointed his forehooves at Venture’s barrier. “It draws magic from me much like my horn would do, and then amplifies it tenfold. Your pathetic unicorn barrier is nothing against it. Bear witness to my ingenuity!”
Each forehoof unleashed a torrent of pure electrical energy, which tore into Venture’s shield with explosive power.
Venture clenched her teeth as she focused her magic to keep the barrier up against the sudden abuse, but seemed to hold on just fine. “Yikes! I wasn’t expecting this, like, at all.”
“Aye, but ye’re handling it alright, lass, aren’t ye?” Sundial asked, concerned.
“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Just a little surprising, is all.”
“That’s impossible…” Pedigree muttered. He shook his head. “No matter.”
Sundial smirked at Pedigree. “Look at that. My new friend here is more powerful than ten o’ you.” She then blinked, tilting her head. “Stronger than ten unicorns… huh.”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, but you must have misunderstood me. Ten times is the minimum setting.” Pedigree pumped his hooves once, which then greatly increased the power output. “Let’s try twenty, shall we?”
Seeing the barrier flicker was all the wendigos needed to grow bold again and rush forward. Many of them exploded into showers of ice against the shield, but a few others managed to make it through as it weakened. Venture turned and fired blasts of light at the wendigos that made it through, vaporizing them all the same, but clearly struggled to do so.
“Okay, this is worse than I thought!” Venture called out.
“Indeed it is! How long do you think you can keep that up?” Pedigree taunted. “No unicorn is powerful enough to withstand this much pressure for long. You have the might of twenty unicorns blasting your little—”
Without warning, Weaver swept up beside Pedigree and slammed his hoof into the side of his head. The helmet protected Pedigree fairly well—that was its job, after all—but the blow was enough to knock him off-balance and get him to let up on his assault on Venture’s barrier.
“You miserable little worm!” Pedigree snapped, now turning his attention to Weaver.
He fired a blast of energy at Weaver, but Weaver slipped into the shadows of the courtyard—easy to do because of the small-scale wendigo storm—and reappeared several feet to the left.
“I’ll handle Pedigree,” Weaver said, looking briefly to Venture. “You keep Sundial covered so she can work.”
Sundial shook her head. “Are you crazy, lad? Ye can’t handle him by yerself, not with all o’ that gear on him!”
“Just get the Beacon activated properly,” Weaver said, dodging another blast from Pedigree. “It’s the only way to keep our friends safe.”
Pedigree growled. “I am tired of your insolence, you miserable failure. I’m going to do what I should’ve done a long time ago!”
He charged at Weaver, increasing his speed with thruster rockets attached to his rear hooves, faster than Weaver could react. He tackled Weaver and slammed him into—rather, through—a wall at the edge of the courtyard.
“Weaver!” Sundial shouted, making to chase after them.
“Let them be, Sundial,” Venture grunted, struggling to keep her shield up against the wendigos, which were now increasing in number and in boldness once they saw it was possible to break through. “Focus on the Beacon. Weaver’s right, that’s the only hope our friends out there have to survive. You have to fix whatever that Pedigree guy did. It’s up to—”
Another wave of wendigos swept through the barrier and rushed at Venture. There were so many this time that Venture could not focus on them individually. Instead, she let out a great burst of light from her horn, so bright that Sundial had to shield her eyes for a moment.
When Sundial reopened her eyes, her jaw dropped. Venture was gone. In her place was an alicorn, her coat whiter than snow, her long, flowing mane a brilliant gold. Sundial had never seen this alicorn before but had had her described once by Tick Tock, so she knew who it was immediately without even needing to ask.
She still asked, though. “H-Harmonia?” she blurted.
The alicorn—Harmonia—turned to face Sundial briefly and gave her a small smile. “Yes, my little pony, 'tis I. Forgiveth my deception for all these months, I intended no harm to thee or thy friends.”
Sundial held up her hooves, completely lost. “Wait wait, so… you were Venture the whole time?! Are ye bloody shitting me?!”
“'Tis not the time to discusseth this, hmm? The Beacon doth require thy attention.”
Sundial grunted, shook her head, then returned to her post by the Beacon’s control panel. “I’m gonna need a bloody drink after all o’ this.”
*****
Rarity heard another scream of pain come from the outer lines of the defensive ring, but wasn’t sure who’d been injured or worse at this point anymore, having lost track of everything in the chaos of the battle. The wendigo blizzard had been much larger and brought much greater numbers to bear than anyone had thought possible, and the wendigos themselves were much faster and smarter than anyone had given them credit for.
It had started off simply enough. The wendigos slammed into the army’s front lines as expected, and they were torn apart by a combination of black flames, flaming arrows, pikes, and swords, and unicorn magic. Though some wendigos managed to get through and wound some of the soldiers, the first few minutes of the battle seemed to go rather smoothly for the most part.
That was just the edge of the storm, unfortunately, and the blizzard did not feel fear or pain. It only kept moving forward, unwavering, relentless. Soon, the wendigos’ numbers became too much to handle so easily, and the army had to close ranks to keep them from slipping through. There were so many of the blasted things cluttered up against the front lines that some wendigos even clamored over one another and leapt out into the middle lines unexpectedly, inflicting wounds and deaths far sooner than was acceptable.
But the army handled this as well, at least as best they could. The knights redoubled their efforts and took positions so that they were able to catch more wendigos with their black fire than before, though it left them vulnerable and prevented them from guarding the regular soldiers around them. It was a necessary move to thin the wendigos’ ranks so that the entire army didn’t get overwhelmed, though it cost more lives than anyone thought possible.
Rarity was barely keeping up with her one and only job in this fight: ensuring that the Knights of the Black Flame—or rather their magical runic weapons—were kept at peak power so that their fires could bathe the encroaching horde as best they could. Every knight lost was a tragedy, and even then she was straining her magic thin trying to focus on the knights that remained as their weapons lost their luster. Some knights and the soldiers they guarded fell when Rarity wasn’t quick enough to empower them, or if she had to choose between one or another. She felt horrible about every single one that she allowed to fall.
Even so, the army seemed to hold firm, at least for a time.
But now the battle had raged long and hard, and there was still no end in sight to the wendigo horde. A quick glance upward told Rarity that the blizzard’s center wasn’t even directly overhead yet, so they hadn’t even reached anything resembling a reprieve. The defensive ring around the army’s center was growing smaller and smaller as the soldiers and knights closed ranks tighter and tighter. The occasional wendigo managed to slip through into the rear line, but it was quickly dealt with by Zircon or Zarya before it could injure or kill any of the archers.
As minute after minute passed, Rarity noted that the army had thinned so tremendously that she could easily pick out who was who. House Snow’s forces, once two thousand strong, now numbered in the mid-hundreds. House Winds forces, which had been a scant hundred or so, had allowed themselves to be cut off from the rest of the army in order to buy time for the knights to pull back; Rarity had no idea where they were anymore. And the thousand zebras—not even counting the knights—were down to the last hundred or so. The knights themselves, once roughly fifty in number, were down to their last fifteen, Zarya and Zircon among them.
At this point it was nearly impossible to keep the wendigos out of the defensive ring, and so Rarity blasted the creatures herself as quickly as she could. It was never supposed to get this far, but none had expected the sheer numbers they had to fight against. She couldn’t even focus on keeping the knights empowered anymore, lest she miss a wendigo sneaking up on her or those nearest to her. Things were happening so fast that she was losing track of where everyone was; only Zircon, who was back-to-back with her through it all, was a constant, though she tried to keep track of Zarya and Shine as best she could.
A scream of pain to Rarity’s left drew her attention. Lady Snowstorm had been leapt upon by one of the wendigos, who was even now freezing her foreleg. Snowstorm’s personal guard slammed his whole body into the beast’s side, knocking it clean away, but left himself open in the process to another wendigo to impale him in the back with its sharpened hooves.
“Take her!” he shouted, looking to Rarity briefly before turning to swing his lance at his assailant. He was frozen solid an instant later.
Rarity moved as quickly as she could to grab Snowstorm with her magic and pull her over to her and Zircon before the wendigo could strike her down as well. She did what she could to help the other mare and save her foreleg, but the damage was done and the ice was already starting to crack.
“Spasibo,” Snowstorm grunted. She glanced around the chaos of the battlefield and shook her head. “Zis is it zen. At least I die knowing we fought to zee end.”
Rarity glanced about as well. It was hard to see more than ten or so feet in front of her now as the blizzard grew thicker around them the fewer soldiers there were to stem the tide. “Don’t give up hope just yet, m’lady,” she said. She then looked off in the direction of Zeb’ra’den. “What in the world is taking Sundial so long with that Beacon?”
Zircon set his hoof gently on Rarity’s shoulder to draw her attention to him. “'Twas always a possibility that we would fall before she succeeded in her mission. We can only hope that we hath given her the time she needed to finish it so that this storm can end.”
Rarity looked around the battlefield at all of those fallen and all of those still fighting what was now clearly a losing battle. “There has to be something we can do…”
Zircon shook his head. “'Tis the nature of war that not every battle can be won.” He pulled Rarity into a tight embrace. “I am glad that we could be together one last time, my love.”
“One last time…” Rarity muttered.
She closed her eyes and set herself against him. The cold was worsening more than ever around her, but at least he was still warm. She could hear his heartbeat, oddly calm despite the chaos all around them.
“All I ever wanted was to see you again, Zircon. But not like this… not like this…”
Rarity took a breath and prepared herself for the end.
And she waited.
And waited.
Then, the cold around her evaporated in an instant.
Rarity opened her eyes to see that she was surrounded by a powerful, bright light. Not from magic, but from above as if from a spotlight of some sort. More spotlights surrounded what remained of the army. Rarity could see every pony and zebra around her, including Zarya and Shine only about twenty feet away, and even some of House Wind’s forces off in the distance, somehow. Whatever the light was, it was driving the wendigos back into the storm and clearing out the cold and fog around those on the ground.
When Rarity looked up, her mouth curled in a little smile. Hope’s Point’s fleet had arrived. “Bluebolt did it! Look! Help is here!”
Almost on cue, the ships above fired a volley of explosive shots into the storm. Rarity couldn’t see what effect it had on the wendigos, but she could certainly hear their enraged shrieking in the distance.
Then, to Rarity’s further surprise, a few dozen ropes dropped down from the airships above, followed by Hope’s Point militia ponies climbing down. They wasted no time at all moving to the edge of the fields of light, hoisting up their odd-shaped rifles, and firing into the wendigos, not with bullets—which Rarity had expected—but with pure lightning, which worked just as well on wendigos as fire did. She recognized the weapon from a long time ago: Gadget had used one just like it.
Then, the ship directly above Rarity and Zircon let out a brief, high-pitched whine as its speaker systems activated. “This is Queen Blackburn of Hope’s Point. All forces of Zeb’ra’den, House Snow, and House Wind, stay under the lights; medical teams are coming down. We will handle the wendigos.”
Rarity let out a breath of relief. “Just in the nick of time, it seems, and with a dramatic flair as well. Thank goodness.”
“'Tis fortune that favors us this day!” Zircon exclaimed, a bright smile on his face.
He walked over to the edge of the light and swung his sword outward into the storm beyond, unleashing another torrent of flame. The wendigos beyond did not dare approach him afterwards, and those that tried were driven back by the light instantly.
Zircon turned towards the remaining troops. “All those who can still fight, join with me! We will pusheth back this storm! For Zeb’ra’den! For the south!”
“For Zeb’ra’den!” called the zebras as one.
“For the south!” called the ponies as one.
As the remaining able-bodied warriors of the army joined with Zircon to start pushing back the storm, Rarity saw a small shuttle, like the one that had transported Lockwood back at Newhaven, descend upon the battlefield. Several of them, in fact. One landed rather close by and a small team of ponies deployed out from it and immediately began tending to the wounded, such as Lady Snowstorm.
Content that the battle was not over and that they now had a fighting chance, Rarity smiled and joined Zircon at his side, ready to push outwards into the blizzard again.
*****
Weaver groaned in pain as he got up out of the rubble he’d been tackled through, and, after discarding his goggles—they had broken anyhow—took a brief moment to evaluate his surroundings to try and figure out where exactly he’d ended up. The room was large, there were a good deal of decorations of plants, fruits, and vegetables as well as a well-sized fireplace with a sword on the mantelpiece, and there was a rather large table surrounded by chairs. A dining room then, simple enough. The room was dark—no zebras were present at the castle so they had no reason to keep any lanterns lit—but that didn’t bother him.
The sound of movement to his right was all Weaver needed to pull him out of his analysis and back into action, and he nimbly moved aside to avoid Pedigree punching down on top of him with that great metal-clad hoof of his. The floor where Weaver had been a second ago was now shattered.
Pedigree didn’t give Weaver any time to breathe, lunging forward for another punch, then another. It was nothing but pure brute force here. Weaver knew the Overseer didn’t have combat experience without his horn, but this new mechanical suit of his was doing its fair job to give him an edge that Weaver hadn’t expected to deal with.
Luckily, since the room was dark, Weaver had plenty of space to maneuver with his shadow-melding abilities, and he used that advantage to its full effect. He was bothered by how cold it felt to do it considering his uniform was supposed to protect from that, and chalked it up to other elements in the environment such as the wendigos outside.
“Stay still, you insufferable lab rat!” Pedigree snapped as, again, he missed Weaver with a punch.
“Why would I do that?” Weaver asked from the other side of the room, moving through the shadows with the ease of a fish moving through a still pond. “You always commanded me to use every advantage in battle that I could. I’m merely taking your lessons to heart.”
“Don’t you try and turn my lectures around on me, Two-eighteen.”
Pedigree cocked his foreleg-mounted energy gun and fired a blast across the room at Weaver, who slipped through the shadows to avoid it. Weaver had to admit that the electrical energy was terrifying, but this was not the time and place to freeze up just because of a little lightning.
“You can’t hide forever,” Pedigree called out. The visor on his helmet lit up a bright white, then cast that light out into the room like a spotlight. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
As Pedigree’s spotlight searched about the room, Weaver slipped through the shadows around it to avoid being seen.
Pedigree was jittery, and every sound within the room, every sudden movement, was enough for him to turn, aim his spotlight and his lightning cannons at whatever had caused the disturbance, then fire away at it. After only a minute or so, the dining room was practically unrecognizable, with shattered chairs and a completely ruined table spread all over.
Weaver swam through the shadows up behind Pedigree and punched him as hard as he could right in the lower back, easy to do with Pedigree’s new posture. The body armor did it’s job well enough to absorb the blow—and it hurt like hell to strike it—but it knocked Pedigree off-balance, enough for Weaver to circle around and deliver an uppercut to the chin as well, which slightly loosened the suit’s helmet.
But Pedigree was only stunned briefly. He turned and blasted at the spot where Weaver had just been, then snarled since he’d missed as Weaver dove back into the shadows again. “You little ingrate! I gave you life! Is this how you repay me for your existence? Hmm? Is this how you treat your maker?”
Weaver didn’t respond—it would give away his position—but swam back to the other side of the room to briefly shake the pain out of his hoof. That armor was tough, so he couldn’t do much to it on his own. Plus, he’d exposed a crucial weak point in the helmet. If only he had a weapon to take advantage of it.
Then his attention turned to the mantle piece above the fireplace and the sword that was displayed there. If everything that was said about the zebras was true, they were master swordsmiths and their special runic steel was almost as strong as durasteel. There was no chance that the sword above the fireplace was fake, either, not if the zebras valued such weapons as highly as they seemed to.
Weaver swam quietly in the shadows along the edge of the room and leapt for the sword. Unfortunately, it was fastened rather well on the mantelpiece and his attempt to get it off attracted a lot of attention in his direction.
“There you are!” Pedigree snapped, aiming his gun straight at Weaver.
Weaver dove into the shadows again and darted away before the blast blew the wall apart, but lost track of where the sword ended up for now.
Pedigree grunted, then aimed the lightning gun into the fireplace. “Enough of this, Two-eighteen. I tire of your silly games.” He fired a single shot, igniting the paltry amount of wood there and bringing dim light to the room. There were fewer shadows to move through now. “You think yourself a real pony now, hmm? You think you’re better than you once were? You are a science experiment gone wrong. Nothing more.”
Weaver stayed still in his hiding spot in one corner of the room, quickly searching for where the sword had flown to. He spotted it embedded in one of the broken chairs right next to the fireplace, fully in the light.
“When we’re done here, I’m going to take you to my lab, Two-eighteen. I’m going to take you apart, piece by piece, and find out where I went wrong with you. Your only purpose now is to make my next batch better. Do you hear me? You’re only useful as parts.”
When Weaver still didn’t take the bait, Pedigree then grinned and gave a low chuckle. “After I’m done with you, Two-eighteen, do you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to tear that Chronomancer’s wings clean off. I won’t kill her, of course. She’ll be more useful as a lab assistant. Or perhaps as a source of genetic samples.”
Weaver took a short breath. He knew he had one chance at this.
He leapt out of the shadows and sprinted for the sword while Pedigree was turned the other way. Pedigree heard him, turned, and fired, but Weaver dodged aside and kept moving forward. Another blast just missed his leg. Another missed his ear and singed his mane.
But Weaver made it to the sword, grabbing it in his teeth before leaping up at Pedigree. Another shot grazed Weaver’s side, melting part of his uniform into his fur.
He landed on top of Pedigree’s helmet, but he didn’t stay long, just jammed the sword into the gap between the helmet and the body armor. Pedigree reached back to grab him, but Weaver leapt off in time, grabbing the sword’s hilt with his tail—it was a runic blade, after all—as he did and pulling down with all his might, attempting to use the sword like a crowbar.
It worked. The force was enough to pop Pedigree’s helmet clean off.
Pedigree turned and blasted Weaver in the chest with a bolt of lightning, sending him flying across the room and into a wall. Weaver just barely kept the sword gripped in his tail, which was easier said than done without much practice. Luckily, he was in a dark part of the room now.
“End of the line, failure,” Pedigree said with a grin, taking aim and cocking his hoof to surge more power into the cannon.
Weaver dove into the shadows again just in time to avoid the blast, which destroyed most of the wall behind him. He then scrambled his way up along the wall nearest the fireplace, which was still dark, while Pedigree was distracted looking towards the remains of the wall.
He said nothing as he leapt out again, the hilt of the sword held in his tail and aimed directly at Pedigree’s head. Pedigree barely turned in time to see it, but not in time to react to it.
Weaver drove the blade straight into the top of Pedigree’s skull, losing his grip on the sword in the process. He hit the floor, hard, and tumbled into the shattered dining table.
When he glanced up at Pedigree, though, the Overseer wasn’t moving, and in fact had collapsed to the floor as well. Weaver walked over to examine him, and there was no mistaking it.
It was over. Pedigree was dead.
“End of the line indeed,” he grunted.
Weaver took a moment to breathe, then made his way back towards the Beacon courtyard without looking back. There would be time to reflect later. Right now, Sundial and Venture needed his help.
Luckily, it was easy enough to find the courtyard from the dining room, as he just needed to follow the busted walls straight through. He was not expecting the sight in the courtyard when he arrived, though.
He’d expected to see Sundial working on the Beacon, naturally, as that was what he and Venture had asked her to do since she was the only one who understood the Beacon and its Key well enough to do so. He’d also expected to see Venture defending her from the wendigos that still swirled about the courtyard. Speaking of the wendigos, they didn’t seem to notice Weaver for some reason, or at least weren’t paying him any attention.
He was not expecting to see a beautiful white alicorn with a golden mane defending Sundial in Venture’s stead. She didn’t even bother with a barrier to protect either one of them, either, just blasted wendigos left and right with bolts of magic that shined with the brightness of the sun.
Weaver shook his head and approached the pair—using the shadows of the courtyard to move without being noticed by the wendigos—keeping his eyes on the alicorn as he moved towards Sundial. “It looks like I missed something…”
Sundial grunted as she fiddled with the Beacon’s control panel some more in an attempt to get Pedigree’s device disconnected, which didn’t seem to be working. “Aye, ye did. Ye look awful, by the way.”
He winced. “I feel awful. Where’s Venture?”
Sundial tilted her head towards the alicorn. “That’s Venture. Or rather, Harmonia.”
Weaver blinked. “As in the goddess, Harmonia?”
“Aye, spot-on there, lad. She was Venture the whole bloody time.”
“Huh… okay?” Weaver shook his head and turned towards Harmonia. “Well, it’s a, uh… pleasure to meet you? Again? I’m uncertain what the protocol on meeting somepony who was pretending to be somepony else is.”
Harmonia turned to face Weaver and gave him a little smile, just as she vaporized another wendigo. “Worry not, my little pony, for thou art doing quite well in that regard. 'Tis a pleasure to meet you as myself, Weaver.” Then she frowned as she looked over Weaver. “Oh dear, thou art injured.”
Weaver glanced down at the burn on his chest. “Yes, I am. That’s not important right now, though. We can patch it up later.” He turned to Sundial. “How are things going here?”
Sundial slammed her hoof on the control panel. “Bloody terrific. I have no idea how this bleeding device o’ that bastard’s works.” She turned to Weaver briefly. “I don’t suppose ye can ask him?”
“Afraid not. He’s dead.”
“Aye, figured as much. Shite.” Sundial scratched her head. “I’ve tried everything I can bloody well think of, and nothing works. This device isn’t something the gryphons made, so I don’t even know how it’s interacting with the Beacon in the first place, or how it’s converting the Light inta Darkness.”
Weaver tilted his head. “Have you tried using your Timekeeper?”
Sundial blinked. “Why would I do that?”
“Well, Pedigree used the device to absorb energy from those Void rifts all across the north, didn’t he? I was never sure why he was doing it or how this device of his worked, but it seemed to be able to do the same thing as your Timekeeper.”
Sundial paused, then slapped her hoof against her forehead. “O’ course! This thing’s filled with all sorts o’ Void magic!” She fished her Timekeeper pocket watch out of her coat pocket and popped it open, then grinned. “Aye, and it’s got a lot o’ the stuff, too. Perfect. Let’s see… aha, piece o’ cake.”
She twisted a dial on top of the pocket watch and tapped the little screen inside twice. Her Timekeeper then glowed a dull green, while Void device attached to the Beacon glowed a bright green. With another twist of a different dial, a green energy flowed out of the Void device into the Timekeeper.
In seconds, the Timekeeper’s glow was significantly brighter, while the Void device wasn’t glowing at all. The device unceremoniously detached from the Beacon and fell into the snow.
“Ha! That was easier than I thought it was. Bloody brilliant, lad!” Sundial cheered, grabbing Weaver by the sides of the face and planting a big kiss on his lips.
Weaver was, in two words, stunned speechless. Harmonia gave a light, airy chuckle from behind the pair.
Sundial didn’t seem to notice, breaking the kiss and excitedly grabbing the Beacon Key out of her saddlebag and inserting it into the Beacon’s control panel. The entire panel glowed a dull white, as did most of the tower, which then gave a low rumble.
But then, nothing else happened.
Sundial waited a moment, then frowned. “Huh? Oh c’mon, don’t ye act up on me now, ye bloody piece of shite. Now what’s the matter?!”
Weaver shook himself out of his daze. “Why isn’t it working? I thought you said this part was easy?”
“It should be! All the data I got from GAIA says that all I need ta do is plug this bloody thing in and it’ll do the rest.” She slammed her hoof on the panel again. “Work! Work, ye damn piece o’ shite! Bloody techno-magic!”
“What seems to be the matter?” Harmonia asked, not turning her attention from the wendigos, which had thinned so much in number now that she hardly needed to expend any effort keeping them at bay.
“The Key’s not bloody working!” Sundial shouted. She searched through her Timekeeper to find anything that might be of use, then pointed to the screen, which Weaver could see was a basic instruction manual for the Beacon. “See? Just plug it in, and it’ll do the rest.”
Weaver pointed at a passage on the manual. “Here’s something. ‘The diffusion process requires that the Beacon’s energy be… ‘pure’? Well, that’s not good.”
Sundial glanced at the passage. “Shite. Shite. That bastard’s device threw the Beacon’s energy out o’ whack. It’s not pure Light anymore. How the bloody hell are we gonna convert the rest o’ that energy back?”
“'Twould be something I could do,” Harmonia said, stepping towards the control panel and vaporizing another wendigo in the process with laughable ease. “When first this Beacon was erected, I bequeathed much of my power into it so that it could function. I will do so again, driving out the Darkness within it.”
“Aye… that could work,” Sundial said with a nod.
Harmonia nodded. “Then standeth back, my little ponies, and alloweth me to do what must be done.”
Weaver and Sundial stepped away from the Beacon, though not so far that Harmonia could not protect them from stray wendigos if any approached, and watched as she lit her horn up and covered the Beacon in a glorious white light. The light grew brighter and brighter, and yet brighter still, so bright in fact that it hurt Weaver just to look at it. Not just his eyes, but something else inside of him.
“Weaver? Are ye okay?” Sundial asked.
Weaver shook his head. “It’s alright. Must be my injuries acting up.”
“Aye, well, we’ll get ye fixed up soon enough then. We’re almost done, lad.”
Harmonia’s horn grew brighter still, until at last it glowed with so much Light magic that the entire courtyard shined as bright as the sun.
Yet despite that, all Weaver could see was darkness.
*****
Rarity followed near Zircon as he, Zarya, Shine, and several other knights continued their push forward into the storm alongside the Hope’s Point militia. The going was rather slow, to her surprise, as they’d barely made it into the center of the blizzard by this point. The fleet above them maintained a steady course despite the fierce winds and cold, though Rarity was getting worried that they might eventually have to pull back if the storm got any worse.
The push had slowed to a crawl at this point. The wendigos’ numbers seemed endless despite their losses. The occasional wendigo seemed to grow bold enough to brave the airships’ spotlights, but they were swiftly cut down before anyone could get hurt. Though their threat had been reduced dramatically now, the combined pony and zebra forces didn’t go rushing forward, lest they open themselves up to attack. Sticking together and moving as a line through the blizzard was the plan now, simple though that was.
“How is it that there are so many of these foul things?” Rarity asked, not really expecting an answer since nobody likely knew it anyway. “They just keep coming with no sign of stopping.”
“'Tis perplexing, I agree,” Zircon noted as he melted a few more wendigos ahead of him. “Surely by now these creatures wouldst realize that they hath been defeated.”
“I don’t think they even know the concept of ‘retreat’, to be honest,” Shine noted. He glanced at the coalition forces as they continued pushing, then shook his head. “Even with all of this, though, do we have the resources to push through the entire storm to Zeb’ra’den? Surely our new allies will run out of fuel or power eventually?”
Rarity frowned and nodded. “While I have full confidence in Blackburn’s ability to prepare for this battle, you might have a point. And besides that, we can’t maintain this push forever. Many of us are exhausted and hungry. We marched all day before arriving here, after all.”
“Perhaps the wendigos intend to wear us down?”
“'Twould be an ideal strategy,” Zarya noted. “They layeth siege to our lines despite our mobility. Rarity is correct: we cannot maintain this push forever, not with our current numbers.”
“What in the world is taking Sundial so long with that blasted Beacon?” Rarity muttered for what felt like the tenth time in the past hour. “She should have—”
Then, everyone’s attention was drawn to a bright flash of light from the other side of the storm. The light moved fast, spreading outwards across the field like a tidal wave. It was blindingly bright, so Rarity had to shield her eyes, but she could hear the wendigos shrieking as the light made its way through the storm.
A moment later, Rarity opened her eyes and saw that the entire storm was simply gone, all in that one instant. There wasn’t a single wendigo in sight, and even the storm above had cleared into nothing more than a few paltry clouds.
“She did it!” Rarity cheered. “Sundial did it!”
Zircon smiled and raised his sword up, turning to address the soldiers in the line. “Victory is ours!”
A great cheer went up through the coalition forces. Rarity watched as the troops moved to one another, relief and joy upon their faces as they shook hooves, clapped shoulders, hugged, kissed, or whatever means they wanted to take to congratulate their fellows on a job well done. The battle was over, and the war with it, and though the losses had been tremendous, they had won.
Zircon scooped Rarity up into an embrace suddenly, eliciting a little yelp of surprise from her, then gave her a celebratory kiss. “We hath done it, my love! Thanks to thee and thy companions, we hath retaken Zeb’ra’den. We hath saved the entire southern continent and vanquished the wendigos for good!”
To Rarity’s amusement—but not her surprise—she noticed that Zarya and Shine were celebrating together in much the same way, as in, hugging and kissing. Zarya had been careful not to hint at anything going on between the two of them in her stories, but Rarity was hardly a novice in spotting these sorts of things. She was just better about not saying anything unless it was necessary.
“I’m glad that everything worked out in the end.” Rarity gave Zircon a rather somber smile. “I am terribly sorry for all of those lost in the process, though. I wasn’t strong enough to protect everyone. We may have won this war, sweetheart, but I can’t help but find the whole thing rather… pyrrhic.”
“'Tis the nature of war. But thou needst not feel anguish for the fallen, my love. They hath all given their lives in the name of Zeb’ra’den and the south. Their deaths were honorable and brave. Their names will live on in the halls of Zeb’ra’den and Frostburg for ages to come. They will not be forgotten.”
Rarity nodded. “Well… at least I know you’ll make sure they all receive proper due for their sacrifice.” She sighed and shook her head. “And at least Sundial finally got that Beacon activated. Looks like she was right—thank goodness—and the Light just swept away all of the wendigos in one fell swoop.”
Zircon nodded. “They were beings of Darkness, servants of Nihila. 'Twould be sensible to think such foul things would be destroyed by the Light of the Beacon. 'Twas a good plan, and 'tis thanks to her that we hath succeeded. We would have never won—not with such finality—if not for her.”
Rarity then paused, and her eyes widened in horrible realization. “Wait a moment… Weaver!”
“Hmm? What about Sir Weaver?”
“He was infused with Nihila’s Darkness at a young age. It's what gives him his abilities. Mister Gilderoy even told me not to use my powers on him because it might hurt him, or worse!”
Zircon tilted his head, then his eyes widened as well. “And he was right next to the Beacon when it unleashed its Light.”
“Come on, we have to get to the Beacon!” Rarity broke from Zircon’s embrace and made towards Zeb’ra’den as quickly as her hooves would carry her.
*****
Symphony took another breath, having just pushed Stormy away again to get herself some room to maneuver. The duel had gone on for more than ten minutes now, and Symphony was getting tired. This was the longest fight she’d ever had, and she was putting all of her effort into it just to stay on an even footing against Stormy’s Warden-boosted strength and speed.
Which meant that Stormy had the advantage, of course, since the Warden didn’t look to be tiring even in the slightest. “You look like you need to take a break,” Stormy taunted as she flexed her wings. “Perhaps you should lie down, ja? Take a little nap?”
Symphony grunted and rolled her shoulders. “I’m not through yet, so just keep your trap shut and bring it on. We’re done when I say we’re done.”
“Oh ho ho, I so love the fire you have in you. It’s such a shame I have to snuff it out.” Stormy shrugged. “I vill tell your Princess how valiantly you fought, though. Vell, she’ll be my Princess then, von’t she, kleiner singvogel?”
“By Harmonia, you just don’t shut up, do you?”
Symphony leapt forward and engaged with Stormy again. Left, right, right, high, left, low, right; every swing of her blades was met evenly with a perfect parry from Stormy. High, left, low, low, right, high; every swing of Stormy’s wingblade was met event with a perfect parry from Symphony in turn. Nothing that either did got through the other’s defenses anymore. They were locked evenly, at least for now, but Symphony wasn’t sure she could keep this up much longer.
Then, Symphony saw a light in the distance, and it was approaching fast. “What the hell is that?” she muttered to herself as she watched it racing towards them.
Stormy shielded her eyes slightly, clearly in great discomfort. “Ack, it’s so bright. Vhy is it hurting my eyes so much?”
Symphony paused a moment, then smirked. “Sundial did it. That’s the Beacon’s Light! Ha ha!”
“Vhat? Nein, das ist unmöglich. She could not have—”
The blinding light moved so quickly that it enveloped the pair in mere seconds. Symphony shielded her eyes for a brief moment, as did Stormy, but the latter still howled in pain when the light washed over her.
When Symphony opened her eyes, she saw the pegasus clutching her chest in agony. “Nein! Nein nein nein! Das kann nicht sein!”
Symphony twirled her blades again. “We’re not done yet, puttana.”
She lunged at Stormy, and the pegasus went to block it. Stormy was much slower on the draw than she had been during the entire fight until this point and the parry was horribly sloppy, enough that Symphony’s longsword slid along the length of the wingblade towards Stormy’s body rather than away from it, and thus Symphony’s blade sliced straight into the base of Stormy’s wing.
Symphony was no expert, but she knew what was going on: that Light had extinguished the Darkness in Stormy that gave her her status as Warden. Stormy was just a normal pony now, without the strength and speed she needed to stay even with Symphony at all.
She saw an opportunity when one was presented to her. She didn’t give Stormy a chance to pull away, retreat, or even speak. Without a second thought, she shoved her rapier straight into Stormy’s heart with all the force she could muster, then drew it back after giving it a good twist. It was completely soaked in Stormy’s blood.
Stormy choked, putting her hoof to her chest, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to speak, a look of utter bewilderment and disbelief on her face as if she wasn’t sure what was happening. She then fell to the ground, dead.
Symphony didn’t say a word. She just cleaned her blades in the snow, sheathed them, and set about climbing the mountain to see if Bloom, Flurry, and Harvey were okay.
*****
Flurry’s horn glowed as bright as a star as she defended herself—and the unconscious form of Pandemonia, which was really only instinctual at this point—from Nihila’s rage, each of them focusing on a steady stream of intense magical power. Nihila’s took the form of a beam of black energy circled with crackling red lightning and glowing hot magma; Flurry’s took the form of a field of pure white energy sparkling with blue and purple glitter. At the point of impact between the two forces was a trembling vortex of silver and gold that sparked out into the abyss surrounding them.
Despite all of her effort, though, Flurry wasn’t sure if she was winning or losing the battle. All she knew was that she was tiring fast. This was just like when she was using her magic to empower GAIA and the Arcanium only slower, but no less draining. Since she could barely see Nihila at this point, she didn’t know if her opponent was wearing down as she was, either.
Nonetheless, she carried on. She would not let herself be beaten, would not let herself be taken over by this evil creature, and would not let her friends down. They had faith in her, and she had faith in them, and that was what fueled her resolve.
“Submit yourself before me, worm!” Nihila shouted. “You only delay the inevitable! Your body belongs to me!”
“Never!” Flurry shouted back. “My friends will succeed, and they will put a stop… to… you—” Flurry was distracted when she saw a glowing light off in the distance, which was fast approaching. “What in the world is that?”
Nihila noticed it too, and abruptly stopped using her magic. “No… no, impossible! That fool has failed me!”
Flurry, also ceasing her magic, tilted her head, then smiled as the realization hit. “The Beacon’s Light! Sundial did it!” She turned to Nihila and smiled. “See? I knew my friends would succeed in the end. You’ve lost, Nihila. Now, give me back my body!”
Nihila snarled at Flurry. “Never, fool! I may have lost this battle, but I am Darkness incarnate. I will never stop, even if I must retreat into the shadows for hundreds of years or more. This world will be mine, one way or another, and your body is mine to do with as I see fit.”
Flurry clenched her teeth. “No… no it is not!”
*****
Bloom looked off into the distance when she saw the bright flash of light. “What in tarnation is that?”
Nihila—in Flurry’s body—snorted. “It would seem as though your pitiful friends have claimed a temporary victory, whelp. Savor it while it lasts.” She then spread Flurry’s wings, flapped once, and took flight in the opposite direction of the approaching light. This lasted for all of about a second before Flurry’s body landed roughly in the snow nearby. “What? What is this?”
Flurry then shook her head and spoke in her own voice. “This is my body, Nihila! You’re not welcome here anymore!”
“Imbecile!” Nihila snapped. “You cannot resist me! I am Nihila! I am—”
“Shut up!” Bloom shouted, running over to Flurry to check that she wasn’t hurt. It was confusing, watching Flurry and Nihila argue with the same mouth and body. All Bloom wanted right now was her friend back. “You heard her, ya dang ol’ parasite! That’s her body, not yers! Now go on! Git!”
“I will not be denied!” Nihila looked off towards the fast-approaching light, and Bloom saw something different in Flurry’s eyes at that moment: fear. “Stupid girl, what are you doing? We must flee from the Light at once!”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Flurry replied, her mouth curling in a little grin.
“Foolish whelp! Your soul has been enveloped within my essence. That Light will destroy my Darkness and everything within it!”
Bloom balked. “What? What d’ya mean?”
Nihila smirked at Bloom. “It is exactly as I said. If that Light reaches me, then I will be destroyed, as will everything and everypony within my embrace, including your precious Flurry Heart. She will die, worm, unless I can escape. You must help me.”
“No,” Flurry said, narrowing her eyes. “We’re not going anywhere. We’re staying right here where that Light can do exactly what it’s meant to do: destroy evil creatures like you.”
Bloom shook her head. “But Flurry, what if she’s right? What if—”
Flurry rose to her hooves and shook her head. “This is what needs to be done, Bloom. Nihila needs to be destroyed. She is a true monster, and this is the only way to rid this world of her evil forever.”
“No!” Nihila shouted. “You cannot do this! You will be destroyed along with me! We must flee!”
Flurry started walking towards the light as it continued growing closer. “The Light won’t destroy me. Only you. You’re obviously lying to try and save yourself.”
“Are you willing to take that chance, fool? If you’re wrong, you will die.”
“Then so be it. It will be worth it to take care of you once and for all, so that you can never threaten the creatures of this world ever again.” Flurry took a few more steps towards the light, her legs shaking as she went. “I will give this world the hope it needs.”
Bloom gulped. “Flurry, are ya sure ‘bout this?”
Flurry turned to Bloom and smiled. “I am without a doubt, Apple Bloom. After all, I’m Princess Flurry Heart, the Princess of Hope. I’ll be okay. Just keep believing in me.”
Bloom hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Alright. I trust ya. Just… just come back ta me, okay? Ta all o’ us.”
“I will. I promise.”
The light blazed along the bottom of the mountain; it would be here in seconds.
“No! No!” Nihila shouted, trying in vain to move Flurry’s limbs and flee. “I am Nihila, Darkness incarnate! I will not be—”
Bloom shielded her eyes as the light swept through her and Flurry. It only lasted an instant.
When Bloom opened her eyes, Flurry was lying in the snow. Bloom rushed to her side instantly. “Flurry! Flurry!” she cried, shaking Flurry’s shoulder. She knelt down and lifted Flurry’s head up into her lap. “C’mon, Flurry, open yer eyes. C’mon girl, don’t ya do this ta me now. Wake up!”
Flurry remained motionless.
Bloom hugged Flurry tight, tears welling up in her eyes. “Please, Flurry…” She closed her eyes and let the tears flow. “Please wake up…”
A very long, quiet moment passed. The only sounds were the soft winds—the storm had died the instant the light washed over the mountain—swirling about and Bloom’s sobs.
Then, Flurry stirred. “Unh… hmm?”
Bloom’s eyes opened. “Flurry!”
“Bloom? Did it work?” Flurry asked, looking around and blinking.
“I dunno, you should be tellin’ me. Is Nihila gone? Are you yer ol’ self again?”
Flurry paused for a moment, then nodded. “I don’t… I don’t feel her presence anymore. I think she’s gone for good. We did it…” Then she shook her head. “I don’t feel that other alicorn’s presence, either.”
Bloom blinked. “Huh? Other alicorn?”
“Oh. It’s… confusing. I’ll tell you all about it later… after I get… some rest…”
Flurry then set her head down in Bloom’s lap, a satisfied little smile on her face.
Bloom let out a breath of relief and gently ran a hoof through Flurry’s mane. “Ya did good, Princess… ya did real good…”