Night Patrol 2: Awakening

by Foxgear


The Grand Awakening

Night Patrol 2 Chapter 68 (Interlude)

By Foxgear


Viride Secure listed lazily around some random peak, it was random by modern knowledge, but it was special to her. Near and dear to her heart, her home. Having long given up trying to find any ruins, she landed on the ledge near the peak. Her charge, Permaflame, Perma for short, was out like a light. The poor thing exhausted from using magic for the first time.

The Alirin of Wind, Squalls, and Emeralds found herself exhausted as well, famished to boot.

Snapping her claws, Viride summoned emeralds and bit into them. Now eating a gemstone should have come with some hesitation, yet she had none. Was it just her new body? Or something else? Either way, emeralds tasted like… green apple candy. Sour with a hint of sweetness.

“I was expecting a saltier flavor, honestly.” What else was she supposed to expect from something buried underground? “Here, have some too, kid.” Viride tossed a few over to Perma, who ate them without complaint.

Mindlessly munching on gemstones, Viride enjoyed the breeze coming off the sea down below. She didn’t know what this placed was called now. She didn’t know what country claimed her Mountain as part of its map. It didn’t matter. This was her home.

“Those little shits… acting so high and mighty! I’m a god compared to them! They’re… they’re…” She angrily munched on another gem. After eating five more, Viride felt her anger recede slightly. Mournfully she pulled out the remaining Alicorn Amulets, her friends.

She had eleven, and now seven, since Minerva kept Rex with her. Levitating the seven amulets, she tried to awaken the slumbering souls inside. “Help me find a vessel or any of the others.” With the wind whirling around her, Viride let the silent voices of her fellow Alicorns travel across the land.

Three of the gems shined, indicating they found a vessel.

“My, my, Fate must be at work,” Viride smirked, breaking an emerald in half. “See you in Canterlot!”

With a snap, she sent the three sailings across the sky on the winds. These three amulets flew across the land, far away from their origin, to their anticipated vessels like shooting stars.

One flew southwest towards the deserts of Saddle Arabia to the high mountains towering over the desert. This amulet was a deep Royal blue, the surface of the crystal ablaze with ghostly flame. The second amulet was yellow, Banana yellow as strange as it might sound. Flew to the far east, to the mountains of Nippon. The final and third amulet, a deep sinister purple wine color, veered towards Clydesdale.


Saddle Arabia, The Mountain of the Old Stallion, Home of the Bicorns

A lone Bicorn stood atop a ledge, clad in a black robe with a bleached bone mask over its face. The wind blew up his cloak, revealing his taught muscles. This was no ordinary pony. He had no actual name. Instead, he bore the title, The Nineteenth Old stallion of the Mountain.

Since that was a mouthful, he merely introduced himself as Nineteenth Hassan, Cursed Hoof, was another name he wore. He was the guardian of Saddle Arabia, unofficially. It was a thankless duty passed down in the Bicorn Clan. Even though they are regarded as wicked, evil ponies. Unfit to even step foot in the ‘civilized’ kingdoms.

These words were meaningless; Hassan had no need for civil pleasantries and no time for ignorant fools. Which is why he watched the destruction playing out in the valley below like a foul play. Their ‘neighbors’ the Saddle Arabian Dragons, ruled by Dragonlord Azazel, were under an unprecedented attack.

Monsters and unicorns were united in an all-out assault against the dragons. The old dragon is as old as the first Hassan, Alicorn of Justice, Terror and Death, and the Bicorns’ Father. Ancient texts were hard to read, ok? Even if the titles were conflicting, that’s what his forefathers left for him.

That was enough about the past. Hassan needed to be in the present.

It was an all-out war, and Hassan didn’t see any reason to get involved at this moment. Or more accurately, he knew better than to get involved. As much as he would have liked it, he could not face Azazel and win. His death would be a pointless one. His fabled strength was not before the ancient dragon.

With a heavy sigh, Hassan turned away from the conflict with little conflict in his decision. He was the guardian of Saddle Arabia, but so long as the monsters were invading the Dragon lands and the dragons stayed there, he was not neglecting his duty.

“The words of a coward who strays from his duties.” Hassan froze at those words. His heart frozen with a terror he could not shake. “Still, if this is the only vessel I have, I have no choice. Even a coward like you carries my blood. Fear not, Nineteenth Hassan. I will wipe the tarnish from your name. Rejoice as you will truly become the Old Stallion of the Mountain.”

Nineteen felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck, the presence of another slipping into his mind. He struggled against the mental attack, but his opponent was something else, something beyond convention.

He strangled one final laugh, “I suppose… the legend was true… of what happens when we stray from the path. I never… thought it would be possible.”

First-Hassan felt the soul of his descendant fade away. It was a shame to snuff out the young stallion’s soul, but it was his duty. “A coward he was, but he did not wane in his training.” Hassan admired his vessel’s physique. He could work with this. “A few minor changes are needed.”

The curved horns on the side of his head lengthened considerably, curving upwards. His already massive body grew even more muscular while wings sprouted from his back. Hassan was as he was his last day alive. His power the same as well.

That wasn’t enough. Hassan wanted something new, something like Viride had.

Hassan looked across the ridge to the raging battle in the Dragon lands. His old foe Azazel fighting courageously. The gold and white serpent dragon spitting fire and lightning upon his enemies.

Materializing his sword, a great broadsword, Hassan looked eagerly at his old foe with shining azure eyes. “Let us finish that inconclusive duel.” Soaring forward, Hassan wondered what powers the core of a Dragonlord would grant him. “Look upon me and know death! Azazel!”


Nippon, Mount Rashomon, home of the Oni-Ponies.

The Oni-ponies were considered the Bicorns of Nippon. The twin curved horns protruding from their foreheads isolated them from regular unicorns and didn’t endear themselves to the Earth pony-centric Nippon. Even with the rapid acceptance of Rinin ponies, they found little favor as centuries of slander worked against them.

Their only compensation was that Nippon’s Goddess gave them their own fief to live away from the general populace. It was an acceptable compromise, but it didn’t improve their standing either. They were still feared as the Demon Ponies of Mount Rashomon.

Mount Rashomon, the resting place of the former Dragonlord of Nippon, didn’t help their reputation. Building their city on the bones of the fallen dragon coiled around the Mountain seemed like a good idea at the time. What better building material was there? Dragon bones were sturdy as they came.

At the peak of the Mountain, the skull of the former tyrant rested on the mount. The skeleton grin of the dragon visible for miles on a clear day. Inside the head rested the shrine of Ibaraki, their mother. Alicorn of Wickedness, retribution, and Self-indulgence.

The Miko, a young filly with yellowish banana-toned fur, a long blonde mane, and two red curved horns, burned incents at the altar while chanting. The shrine housed the three relics of their tribe: Ibaraki’s iron rod, banner, and flowing golden robes.

In the middle of her chant, Miko felt a strange sensation hit her. Like she’d been stabbed. Her bright, innocent blue eyes widened as she felt around for evidence of the wound but could feel nothing, nor did any bloodstain her hoof. Yet, she grew weak and soon slummed forward.

When she arose, her eyes were burning gold, with slits. The ceremonial robes she wore were torn asunder as fiery golden wings sprouted from her back. The Miko was now Ibaraki.

“How nice,” Ibaraki said, stretching her new body. “Everything is right here… except for my sword. Shame, the rod will be fine.” Levitating her belongings over, Ibaraki was excited to get into the fray as soon as possible, only to frown when her attire fell loosely around her. Nearly swallowing her in the fabric.

“This body… is much smaller than my original one.” She noted sourly. Was this filly even a teenager? “No matter, I will be making some improvements soon enough.”

Stepping out in the mouth of the slain dragonlord, Ibaraki was confident she could grow a few inches with the provided material. Setting her hoof on the surface of the worn bone, she got to work.

“Let’s see. I think alchemy works like this, right?” The Alicorn wondered as the remains of the dragon lord began to deteriorate. Her children were making a fuss, but that was no matter. She needed some extra materials anyway. “Oh Shuten, my dear sister, I’ll wake you soon enough.”


The last Alicorn amulet, the sinister purple one, flew towards Clydesdale. It weaved through the raging battle waged by Dragonlord Oberon and his clan. The mighty lord just smashed a siren back into a marsh, turning the mossy green water red as he ripped out its throat.

Its destination was a lone hut out in the marshes that bordered the dragon’s territory. Inside this hut was the most appropriate vessel for this amulet.

The occupant was a witch.

Oberon noticed the flash of purple light while he took a moment to catch his breath from battle. He held no quarry with the pony witch, thus ignored her for all these years. Yet, now he could no longer feel her usual black magic.

Now he sensed something far worse.

The door to the hut slammed open, and the witch or something that looked like her exited. Her coat was a deep purple, nearly black, her horn longer than before, and a pair of inky black raven wings were at her side. The feathered appendages were so large that they dragged on the ground like a ballroom gown.

Oberon had seen this kind of creature before. He knew an alicorn when he saw one. Rising to his full height, he glared down at the beast, who looked back with star-shaped purple pupils and an ethereal black mane. The squawking of crows filled the sky as the blackbirds landed on the bare trees.

For most, this would be merely disturbing, but in Clydesdale, Ravens were the symbol of death. He’s heard the tale of one creature said to be the bringer of doom, as told to him by his grandfather.

“Are you the Morrigan?” He asked warily. The Alicorn’s starry pupils shined with a foreboding light as she cocked her head like a bird, smiling sweetly. Oberon settled down for a fight, the Alicorn’s silence unnerving the mighty dragonlord. “Well, must we do this?”

“It’s already done,” Morrigan stated matter of fact. “You just don’t realize it.”

Oberon charged, snarling mad as every fiber of his being screamed at him to slay the creature before him. He splashed through the swamps, creating a hundred miles an hour gusts with his wings, spewing lightning from his mouth, and reaching with his massive claws to crush the awakened Alicorn.

Morrigan didn’t do anything to evade. Instead, she approached the raging dragon as if it were a yipping puppy. Her body breaking apart into a murder of crows. In this form, she swarmed Oberon, pecking and nipping at his scaly hide.

He roared and flailed, swatting at the crows like they were mosquitoes, yet for every crow killed, an inky black substance stained his body. Seeping into his flesh and causing decay. His movements slowed, his arms and wings rotting off as he slank into the marsh.

Morrigan materialized atop his back, no worse for wear. It was as if she hadn’t just fought one of the most powerful creatures on the planet.

“I suppose,” She bemoaned, tugging at Oberon’s heart. “If everypony else is doing it.”

With a swift and sure tug, she ripped the Dragonlord’s heart free, biting into the still-beating organ. As the blood dripped down her chin, she smiled with bits of heart in her herbivore teeth that slowly began to sharpen to meat rendering fangs.

“Now, I better go say hi, to ‘Big’ Sis. I’m sure she’s missed me terribly.”


Former-Dragonlord Torch let out a trumpeting roar as he crushed the last of the interlopers. Subduing the marauding horde of lesser creatures was a simple task. He may have stepped down as Dragonlord, but that did not make him any less powerful. In fact, the only thing he lost by giving up the Blood Scepter to his daughter was the ability to call the other dragons to him by force.

Really it was much easier to fight by himself. No puny young dragons to worry about crushing. Torch was free to rage like in the old days, back when he and the other Dragonlords had all been near hatchlings themselves.

Yes, the old gang, Oberon, Azazel, Yamato, and the rest. Couldn’t forget all the dragonesses that became their mates later on.

Torch truly missed the times when they were all simple dragons. Before, they all became lords and could possibly be what the ponies called friends.

As much fun as he was having, Torch was concerned as he flicked away the corpses into a nearby lava pool. A force of this size would have put even the toughest of the youth against the wall. His daughter was no exception.

It was not the obligation of a former ruler but a loving father that he set out to end the threat before word could even reach Ember. And yet, as he basked in the blood of his enemies, he felt uneasy, like something was still lurking in the shadows.

Being a relatively straightforward being, he demanded it to reveal itself or be burned in a sea of fire. Much to his amusement, a tiny single being stepped out. A lavender unicorn, no. It was something else.

“Another Alicorn, huh?” Torch bellowed to the pony no larger than his smallest talon. “Pray do tell, what Princess are you?”

“I’m not your run of the mill Alicorn,” it replied. “Now that I have a suitable vessel, I, how do they say, want to break it in. I’m the Alicorn of Magic, Mother of Unicorns, Minerva.”

Minerva, now with the body of Gleam Sparkle, flaunted the power her previous bodies could never hope to contain, less they turn to ash. She thought about taking Cien, but it was better to allow the mother to raise her baby. Make sure her future vessels get proper nutrition and all.

The Grandmother was so earnest about laying down her own life that it would have been entirely heartless to not accept her willing offering. And it’s not like Gleam was so old her body wasn’t suitable. In fact, Gleam was just the right age. Minerva felt like she was in her prime once more!

“I still miss some things from my VeeVee vessel, though,” Minerva said candidly, not really speaking to Torch, who scrunched his brow in confusion. “This body could use some upgrades. I need materials, though.”

“Oh? You seek to harvest me? Don’t think I will fall so easily.”

“I know you won’t, but that’s what makes you so worth it! Zil, Twilight!” At the behest of their master, the two unicorns flanked the Dragonlord from both sides. “Let’s put that friendship magic to the test!”

Torch roared in defiance at the three ponies. Getting blasted from both sides and head-on. Magic bullets penetrated through Torch’s thick hide, and out the other side, one of his mighty horns broke, falling to the ground, along with his left eye. Which was destroyed in the barrage.

Minerva laughed as the former Dragonlord continued on despite the damage. Even if he died, his body would still continue moving via inertia. It would be simple to dodge the moving Mountain of flesh either way, but she took it as a personal challenge.

“Our ages are over! It’s time for something new! Something beyond Dragon or Alicorn!” Activating the alchemy circle she set up prior, Minerva watched as Torch’s body disintegrated into nothing, followed by hers.

As her consciousness faded, Minerva wondered if Gaia’s grandchild would be surprised that she knew his little alchemy magic. He shouldn’t be. She was the Alicorn of magic. Even if she didn’t invent it, she knew how to use it. It was merely a matter of knowing it existed.

When the lights of the circle died down, Minerva stood reborn for the third time in a week. She was no longer an Alicorn nor an Alirin. She was an Alirin Lord; it was the beginning of a new age, her second coming. Or tenth, but who was counting?

Minerva didn’t have long to relish her victory. Having sensed the others of her kind awakening. Seems Viride found some proper vessels. But who was coming back? Of those available, there were a few troublesome ones. This is why she held onto Romulus Rex; she could do without her lover for the time being. Mainly because of him cheating on her with her sister. Not Tempest or Gaia. No, her twin sister, Morrigan.

The horny prick.

The world shuttered as three tremendous beings came back to the world of the living. It wasn’t something normal ponies could sense, but for Minerva, she might as well be standing right there witnessing the event personally.

“Hassan, it’s nice to have a dependable and non-cheating stallion like that around. Ibaraki, she’s a bit immature but easily enough to control. Eh… fucking dammit! Morrigan?”

How did she manage to miss her own twin’s amulet? To be fair, it’s not like Minerva knew what color every Alicorn was. There were plenty of repeats. How many red, green or blue amulets have been found already? Still, she could always kind of tell who it was. So Morrigan must have hidden her presence. “She probably knew I wouldn’t want to wake her up right away.”

“Indeed, I did, dear sister.” Minerva wheeled around to face her twin, who was also sporting some draconic features now. The power radiating from her was clearly that of a Dragonlord. The mother of unicorns wasn’t sure what was more impressive. Her sister’s transformation or the fact Morrigan teleported from Clydesdale without even being winded.

“Morrigan… how nice to see you.”

“Oh, little Minerva…”

“We’re the same age!”

“The fact you bring up that trivial detail only proves your immaturity.”

Minerva bit back her retort as the others arrived. She did a quick headcount and thought she maybe should have prioritized awakening some stallions. It was five to one female to males right now. That was future Minerva’s problem. Right now, she needed to establish the pecking order and fast!

In a show of strength, she teleported everypony, Twilight and Zil included, back to Canterlot. Positioning herself on the throne as a blatant display of dominance. Even if it took half of her magic to do so. This is why she kept Zil and Twilight nearby, in case the other Alirin’s decided to get rowdy.

“Let us begin with some introductions, Viride. Who is that with you? I thought you’d bring back Ifrit?” Or Ifrit in Overheat’s body, Minerva thought, confused by the mysterious orange/blue filly before her.

Viride snapped to attention, “Oh, right, this is Permaflame! Perma for short. She was what was inside of that rock, egg thing you told me about. Confused the hell out of me too, but she’s powerful if a little… soft-headed? What’s a polite way of saying…” She trailed off, pointing to Perma playing with the end of the banner, laughing and giggling like a baby playing with a ring of keys.

“Unique,” Was Minerva’s bone for her friend. “Anything else to report?”

“Right!” Viride snapped to, looking grave. “Some bug bitch had Solaris’s spear!”

That was the worst and perhaps the best news Minerva could have gotten. The worse because Solaris’s spear was a powerful weapon that could turn the tide against them, say if one of her daughters wields it? However, the mere mention of the spear quelled any brewing rebellion from the others. Mainly a specific twin of hers.

Hassan seemed more eager for the challenge, while Ibaraki… was also playing with the banner with Perma. Was that a side effect of her vessel, or was she just not remembering how the Mother of Oni-ponies was before? It has been a few thousand years. Being generous, there was no way of knowing how much of their soul or memories were stored in the amulets. Or what state of mind they’ll be in.

Minerva was grateful that they all weren’t like Vulcan, who had gone mad in ten seconds after awakening. And now they all were infused with the power of a Dragonlord, minus Viride and Perma, but still, four Alirin Lords wasn’t bad. Though it would have been better if they had one more or one less. Even numbers generally didn’t lead to good results.

As of this moment, her only true rival for power was Morrigan.

“Dear sister,” Her twin drawled, producing an orb for them all to view. “I have a prediction. Fate is weaving her web once more, and as you see, it spells doom for us once again.”

Morrigan’s clairvoyance was on another level compared to Celestia’s. Right now, she was showing Kira, the white rinin unbelievably standing victorious over them. With Minerva herself the last one standing in a ruined Canterlot.

“A worthy opponent, it seems,” Hassan spoke excitedly. Clearly impressed. “Lady Morrigan, how accurate is this vision? I would hate to get my hopes up, only to be disappointed.”

“Who can say what the future will hold? The path of Fate and Time split infinitely into many paths. The only thing I can say for certain is that this pony here, this white death, will bring ruin to Canterlot. After that? Who knows? She will be here in two days and one night’s time.” Morrigan looked up at her. “How might we prepare for this threat, dear sister?”

It was apparent what she was doing. Minerva could see her sister’s scheme a mile away. That didn’t mean she had to walk right into it.

“We will prepare. Canterlot is our home. Tis only right we defend it. This is what we shall do…” She began to layout their countermeasures. All the while, Morrigan smirked into her crystal ball. Minerva didn’t trust her sister as far as she could throw her, and she could probably throw her halfway around the world.

As long as Romulus Rex remained a crystal, her rule was secure. There was also the matter of the two expecting mothers upstairs. Was there any way Minerva could get Luna to be of help quicker? She was the Mother of Magic, so she had to know something, or maybe she should focus on Twilight?

Whatever the cause, Minerva wasn’t about to be taken by surprise. Not by Celestia, Kira, or her own sister.

This time, she would win the war.