If the lhaksharut was intimidated by Mihr’s sudden appearance, it didn’t show it.
“Secondary target recognized,” came its emotionless voice. “Running multi-spectrum analysis. Analysis complete. Entity class: six. Meta-type: para-mortal. Numinous mode confirmed: sacred gradient. Magnitude: category four. Classification: aasimon, mercurian, first rank.” It withdrew its spear then, but only to pull the weapon back into a ready position, its other arms adopting similarly aggressive positions. “Conclusion: containment pending dispossession.”
“Stand down,” repeated Mihr, his sword still floating in front of him. The weapon’s tip had been pointing upward when it caught the lhaksharut’s attack before, but now it turned to point menacingly at the metal-and-stone creature. “Your actions are in violation of the provisional codicil that our representatives agreed to regarding this world.”
“Negative.” The lhaksharut’s unchanging face and uninflected voice gave nothing away, but the fact that it responded to the charge at all was proof enough that the angel’s words had struck home. “Corpus Juris Universalis section one-zero-six part two states that interim annotations to its canon shall not interfere with the enforcement of extant regulations.”
“That,” replied Mihr without hesitation, “is only in the event that a conflict occurs between existing statutes and temporary agreements. But the only conflict I see here is you slaughtering people who are helpless to fight back.”
“Designation: primary target has created multiple non-volatile planar apertures in violation of Corpus Juris Universalis section one-six part four. Destination planes are under no interim annotations regarding non-interference for evaluation purposes. Termination of designation: primary target thus takes priority. Designation: secondary targets are to be terminated to eliminate interference with prior directive.” The metal spheres in the lhaksharut’s lower arms flared to life at that, glowing with flames and crackling with electricity again.
“Someone was creating permanent planar gateways?” Mihr’s brow furrowed at the news, but he shook his head a moment later. “That’s no excuse for this savagery. These people aren’t even aware of the laws you’re enforcing!” He looked around the wreckage again, his expression darkening. “To execute them all goes against the spirit of our agreeing to observe and evaluate this world in the first place! A simple promise from the offending party to cease creating those gateways could have avoided this!”
“Negative. Designation: primary target identified as class five para-mortal entity with magnitude four anarchic numinous mode. As per Corpus Juris Universalis section eight-five-six part seven, agreements with such entities are void without category six or higher thaumaturgical enforcement. Part eight specifies that such enforcement is insufficient if the entity has access to category nine thaumaturgical abilities. Termination directive is therefore given priority status.”
The sigh Mihr gave then was a sad one, but his features didn’t lose their resolve. “I have no wish to destroy you, enforcer, but I cannot allow you to do this. This world is an unsullied garden, one you would mar with the blood of its protectors. Such a thing must not happen.” Mihr’s horn glowed then, and seemingly from nowhere he produced a bow almost as large as he was, though no arrows accompanied it. “This is your final warning: disengage your assault and vacate this world immediately. I will see to it that no further gates are created.”
“Insufficient. Primary and secondary targets must be terminated.”
“Then be prepared to defend yourself, for I will not fail to defend them.” With that final declaration, Mihr slowly flapped his wings, rising into the air until he was level with the lhaksharut’s face. His sword followed of its own accord, and within the grip of his telekinetic aura he pulled back the string of his bow, an arrow appearing from out of nowhere, nocked and aimed at his foe threateningly.
The lhaksharut needed no further prompting, weapons raised as it rushed forward. But it didn’t swing any of them as it moved to close the gap between itself and the angel. Nor did it raise the spheres held in its lower hands. Instead it curled its metal wings around – the damaged one having had time to repair itself during their conversation – in an attempt to make contact with the angel.
But Mihr was faster. In an instant, the angel’s sword had multiplied a hundredfold, scores of blades now hovering in the air where a single one had been only a second ago, forming a barrier of glistening steel as they immediately set to whirling. The swords flew through the air as they moved into position around the charging inevitable, encircling it on all sides.
The lhaksharut seemed not to care. Without hesitation, it plunged through the curtain of swords, the blades slicing it from every direction. But although the attack left deep cuts all over its body, it wasn’t enough to stop the thing, and it closed the gap between itself and Mihr a heartbeat later. Lashing out with the speed of a cobra, one metallic wing struck the angel’s armor. A hideous scraping sound could be heard as razor-sharp feathers tore across Mihr’s protective ensemble, but when the lhaksharut withdrew its wing a second later, all it had to show for its efforts was a shallow cut across the armor, not having cut deep enough to penetrate.
But piercing the angel’s armor had never been the creature’s goal.
Having made contact with its enemy, the lhaksharut’s spell immediately discharged. In an instant, space seemed to fold in around Mihr. A refraction formed around him, as though he was surrounded by glass so clear that it couldn’t be seen, and the angel visibly struggled as the warped area seemed to tighten, compressing him even as it suddenly shot downward, passing through the floor seamlessly.
“Containment complete,” announced the lhaksharut once the angel was gone, before turning to the remaining ponies. “Commencing termination of secondary ta-”
It wasn’t able to finish as Mihr suddenly burst up from the spot where he’d disappeared into the ground, reemerging as suddenly as he’d vanished. Wasting no time with words, the angel immediately unleashed the arrow he’d nocked, the shaft striking the lhaksharut directly in the chest with enough force to make the inevitable jerk backward. A second one slammed home as well, but by the time the third and fourth arrows struck the creature, it had regained its equilibrium, swatting them out of the air with its melee weapons. “Warning,” it blared suddenly. “Necrotic damage sustained. Countermeasures failing. Cause unknown.”
“It’s not my slaying arrows that you should fear, enforcer,” answered Mihr coolly. “It’s my blade.”
The words had no sooner left his lips than his sword – the original one, still hovering by his side while the others remained where they’d originally appeared as a wall of whirling blades – flew upward. The lhaksharut moved its weapons into a defensive position, but the sword danced around them nimbly, rushing in to cleave a deep gash along the lhaksharut’s side, then a second cut along its middle arm, and a third across its chest. It was only the fourth blow, aimed at the creature’s face, that missed, and even then only by a fraction of an inch as the inevitable jerked backward. “Warning,” it announced again. “Anarchic-gradient numinous damage sustained. Structural defenses insufficient to withstand. Self-repair systems failing.”
“Indeed.” Mihr’s wings flapped as he took to the air again, circling the lhaksharut. “Although I serve the will of Heaven, I’ve maintained my friendships with those among the Hosts of Virtue who champion freedom and individuality. Thus, all it took was a simple prayer for them to anoint my sword with the energies of chaos once I realized that I would be facing one of your kind.” The angel’s sword flew back over to him then, hovering in front of him once again. “You, however, have no connections beyond your axiomatic brethren, and so lack the profane magic necessary to truly harm me. Your only hope was to imprison me within that container of sealed time, and you failed.” Slowly, the angel drew the string on his bow again, another arrow appearing as he leveled it at the inevitable. “This battle was decided before it ever began. The only question now is if you’ll continue to pursue this foolishness and force me to destroy you.”
The lhaksharut didn’t stand down, but neither did it rush to resume the battle. “Calculating alternative tactical options,” it announced a moment later. But unlike the last time it said that, it didn’t immediately proclaim that its calculations were complete. Instead, several seconds went by before it finally spoke again. “Alternative options not found. Current projected status of fulfilling primary directive: eighteen-point-five-three percent plus/minus fourteen-point-four-two percent.”
“Poor odds by any measure.” Despite his casual tone of voice, Mihr didn’t lower his weapons, keeping his arrow trained on the lhaksharut as his sword held its ready position. “But if you find them preferable to abandoning your current course of action, allow me to try one last time to convince you otherwise: if you cease attacking, I will personally guarantee that whoever opened those planar gateways will refrain from doing so again until the provisional codicil regarding this world’s disposition under planar law is decided upon.”
Again, silence fell as the lhaksharut seemed to consider its options. In the time that it did, the damage that it had sustained began to fade once again, with the deep gouges that Mihr’s sword had placed on it slowly starting to close. “Self-repair systems rebooted,” it noted.
Mihr drew his arrow further back. “A development that can be rectified in a moment if you feel that my word is insufficient.”
“…negative.” At last the lhaksharut lowered its arms, abandoning its attack posture. “Alternative option deemed sufficient.”
Mihr sighed with relief. “Thank you.” He lowered his bow then, the arrow that he’d nocked disappearing the same way it had reappeared. His sword likewise moved to sheathe itself. A moment later, the wall of whirling blades that he’d conjured was gone as well.
The lhaksharut had no visible reaction to Mihr’s gesture of goodwill. “This concordance will be immediately reported as an amendment to the interim annotation regarding this world’s provisional disposition.”
Mihr nodded. “I understand. Please convey to your superiors my hope that this incident will not prevent us from working together to ensure the prosperity of this place and its people.”
The lhaksharut made no acknowledgment of Mihr’s statement, instead silently invoking its magic. A moment later it was gone, having vanished without any further statements or fanfare.
Just like that, the fight was over.
Knowing that the inevitable was incapable of breaking its word once it had been given, Mihr was at last able to turn his full attention to his surroundings. What he saw made him grimace. The surviving ponies – and one small dragon – had gathered the fallen figures of their companions, now located behind a nearby pile of rubble that offered some makeshift cover. Tears and soft words of comfort were being shared as the larger one was praying for the salvation of her fallen fellows, while the others glanced between her and himself.
Intent on rectifying the situation immediately, Mihr touched down, folding his wings to his sides as he reached within his armor, withdrawing a small silken pouch. Even as he started to open it, one of the ponies crept forward cautiously. “Um, Mihr, is it?” she began, her voice thick with nervousness. “I’m Twilight Sparkle, and I wanted to thank you for saving us-”
“Forgive me, Twilight Sparkle, but I have not yet earned your gratitude,” interrupted Mihr, opening the pouch and pouring its contents – sparkling diamond dust – onto one of his hooves. “Not until I have undone the wrongs that have been allowed to transpire this day.”
Wasting no further time, Mihr knelt down, ignoring Twilight’s awkward look as he lowered his head. Slowly gesturing, he began to chant in a soft, lyrical language, the words flowing and elegant as he allowed the powdered gemstones to spill from his hooves and onto the ground. It was only after his prayer was finished that he switched back to recognizable speech, making no move to rise. “Lords of Compassion,” he intoned softly, “Patrons of Mercy, I beseech you: alleviate the harms that have been inflicted on these innocents today. Assuage their suffering. Tend to their wounds. Renew them and let them suffer not under your gentle ministrations. In your name, this I pray.”
His supplication was answered almost immediately.
All around them, the wreckage began to move of its own accord, rising into the air and floating at a gentle pace, each piece of debris going out of its way to avoid striking anyone. Slowly, each stone and splinter joined together with those around them, reforming the ruined castle. Walls erected themselves as though they’d never fallen. The craters on the floor filled in without leaving so much as a crack to show that they’d been there. The ceiling reconstituted itself, as solid as it had ever been. And outside, seen through the windows where even now the glass was restoring itself, the fallen tower could be seen rising up into the air, pulling itself together as it stood up again.
Nor was the castle the only thing restored by the angel’s prayer. Nearby, groans erupted as wounded bodies suddenly found themselves restored. Rainbow Dash jumped up instantly, looking around until she found where Applejack was slowly blinking her eyes and pulling her into a fierce hug. One that was joined a moment later by Pinkie, looking no worse for wear, and Fluttershy and Spike a second after that. Princess Celestia was similarly sitting up, checking herself for damage before being hugged by Cadance and Shining Armor, the latter already restored by his wife’s magic but still looking refreshed by the angel’s prayer.
Smiling as he saw that the tears of sadness had been replaced by ones of joy, Mihr turned back to the pony in front of him. But she had already rushed over to rejoin her friends and family, throwing herself around them in a warm embrace. The sight was enough to make the angel smile.
Seeing that was the only thanks he needed.