//------------------------------// // A New Horizon // Story: Salvation // by voroshilov //------------------------------// The Luminary had landed Penumbra as close to the town as it could without landing on the houses. It had touched down on a verdant green plain, no doubt part of somebody’s back garden - most likely somebodies’ back gardens given the Retaliator’s size. The Retaliator’s embarkation ramp extended from its underbelly, Penumbra marching down it to find herself facing somebody’s back door.  The moment she walked around the house, she found herself facing the entire town. It was as if something had simultaneously roused all of them to move to the streets. Well over three thousand ponies stood in front of her, some hanging precariously out of windows, others hovering above their fellows. At their head stood a unicorn with a brown coat and white mane. She wore half-moon glasses on her nose and looked at Penumbra with a mixture of terror and reverence. “W…” She stuttered, partially stooping down as if compelled to bow. “Welcome,” she eventually forced out, “to our town. What brings you here?” The mare’s voice rose and fell like the tide. Penumbra’s hard exterior softened a little, part of her recognising the unicorn as if she was an old friend, though she knew full well she had never met her before. “I want to look around,” she said, “for now, at least. Return to your businesses.” The ponies all, reluctantly, nodded and began to disperse. Foals had to be practically dragged away by their parents, as they stared intently at Penumbra with undisguised awe. She was massive in comparison to almost all of them, even more so than the Princesses had been in their time- all save one. A dragon, purple scales and green spines along its back and head, hung at where the rear of the group had been. It stared at her with an emotion she couldn’t identify. Dragons were mysterious and nuanced creatures - that and she couldn’t measure faces incredibly well. It was clearly still young, but had far surpassed the juvenile stage, being a good twenty five metres long and about six tall. Slowly, it slunk towards her, a small cadre of ponies following alongside it. It moved slowly, carefully, though with none of the visible wisdom that most dragons she had encountered did. Rather it seemed enraptured by her, or something behind her.  It stopped only when about a foot from her face, where she could feel the heat of its breath from its nostrils over her face. If she was not mistaken, she could have sworn she saw its lower jaw tremble before it spoke. “Twilight?” Penumbra shook her head. “No, I am Sunless-Halo-of…” She was floored by a sudden weight. But, it was not the dragon, like she would have expected, but a sudden vice-like grip on her soul. She swallowed hard, her trachea feeling like it was being constricted. Her jaw trembled. A sudden realisation of a terrible mistake washed over her. “Spike?” Spike, the dragon, nodded his head. “You remember me,” he murmured, sounding as though he would cry. “I thought after all this time.” He choked on what could have been a sob. “After all this time. I thought you would never come back.” “Our parents told us about you,” a yellow pegasus with red mane said, “so did Spike. We thought you were a myth.” “A fairytale,” another, an orange unicorn, chimed in. “Something to keep us imagining,” a white earthpony said, “something to keep us hoping.” A withered looking red stallion, sat in a wheelchair pushed by a yellow pegasus, spoke up. Though his voice was quiet, everything seemed to fall silent when he spoke, even Spike’s breathing. “We believed,” he said, “just as our predecessors did. We believed that, one day, you would return. Twilight Sparkle, an ancient hero, from an ancient time. Our ancestors believed in you, I can tell just from looking at you they were right to.” Penumbra nodded her head slowly. “I’m not Twilight Sparkle,” she mumbled, not having the energy to raise her voice beyond that, “I’m Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra, Twilight Sparkle died long ago.” The withered old station smiled, rising slowly from his wheelchair. Both the yellow pegasus who pushed his chair and the white earthpony were upon him immediately, holding out their hooves as support, though he did not grab them. He limped up to Penumbra, who he could just about reach the eyes of when she was sat on her haunches. “You are Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra,” he said, “but that is merely a name. Who you are within still remains. You are still our hero, who would descend from the skies and eventually bring us salvation.” She looked him in the eye, seeing a great belief in her. Eventually, she brought herself to nod. “Grandpa Apple,” the earthpony said, “you should sit back down.” The withered old stallion laughed. “I have not much time either way. I should like to look her in the eyes.” He focused again on Penumbra. “To witness you today has fulfilled my life. All the time I held my belief, I listened to and told the tales of your heroics, how you saved us time and time again. I knew you would one day come here, only fleetingly, but it was exactly as those old stories said it would be. I had to see you, just once.” “I am honoured,” Penumbra replied. She thought about continuing, but decided against it. “No.” The stallion chuckled. “It is I who am honoured. Honoured by life to see this day, the day that our salvation began.” A foal emerged from behind him, a tiny thing, with a beige coat and brown mane. “Hey,” he said, nervously, “can you sign my card?” He held up a sheet of card, covered in crudely drawn pictures of himself and two others - what could only have been his parents - playing on a grassy field. Penumbra smiled at him and nodded, producing a fountain pen from a case in her armour. She never left home - home now being classed as the Retaliator - without at least one pen. She opened it and chose a large spot of white space, above a scene in which the artist portrayed themself having a picnic in the third person, from the perspective of an onlooker who could see only two dimensions. Her spot chosen, she carefully inscribed her signature: “Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra.” The smile on the child’s face threatened to exceed the limits of his biology. Thanking her profusely, he dashed off, holding the card like a trophy.  “All that,” she mumbled, “over just me?” “I don’t blame them,” Spike said, the stallion having been forced back into his wheelchair by the two ponies that had flanked him, “you’ve been gone for so long, you became a legend.” She shook her head. “It shouldn’t be like that. I’m not some demigod.” She practically spat out the word. “No?” Spike questioned, “they seem to think you’re one, as does the rest of your body.” He gestured all over her. “I hardly recognise you, but you can see your magic a mile away. You’re glowing like a beacon, and you’re attracting everything.” Penumbra chuckled painfully. “If only you knew,” she mumbled, “if only you knew what I’d done. I’m not a hero.” “Hero is subjective,” Spike said, “everyone here seems to think you’re a hero. Just because you aren’t a hero to yourself doesn’t mean you aren’t one.” He exhaled in a sharp almost chuckle. “Or, maybe, you aren’t. Who knows. Who cares. I’m just glad you’re here.” The dragon smiled - a surprisingly warm gesture considering the immense teeth he showed. “For old time’s sake.” Penumbra, her emotional defences giving her an irrefutable order to not think about the issue any further, could only nod in reply. She allowed herself a few moments to calm down, using a breathing technique she’d learned from a book about something called ‘yoga’. Apparently, it was a method of breathing? Or perhaps an old psychological treatment? “What’s town like?” She asked, though the question was aimed at no one person in particular.  The yellow pegasus with the red mane answered, “it’s slow. Everyone knows everyone, nothing happens, nothing changes. They say forty generations have been and gone since we arrived, yet there’s no advancement.” “Have you not expanded?” She asked, “it’s a large planet, there’s more than enough space.” The idea of expansion seemed to have a certain taboo attached to it, emphasised by the white earthpony’s slight wince at the insinuation of it. “Because of the ruins,” the yellow pegasus said, her voice lower. “Ruins?”  She nodded but frantically held a hoof to her lips. “Don’t shout it out. It’s not something most want to think about.” Penumbra shrugged. “You’ll have to elaborate.” The yellow pegasus looked over her shoulders, before sitting on her haunches and gesturing for Penumbra to do the same. “Spike told us the stories,” she muttered, “about what happened when ponies first arrived. They rebelled against the Empire…” Cadance, Princess in only name, held her husband close. The two whispered, hushed to the point of near silence, the occasional giggles and gurgles of their baby daughter drowning them out. “What if he comes back?” Shining’s voice, even quiet as it was, betrayed more than a hint of worry, “we can beat them, but not him.” “It is worth the risk,” Cadance said, “he’ll be busy, trapped in that war of his. Why would he postpone everything just to come here? Besides, we owe it to everyone who didn’t make it off Equestria to try, he can’t be allowed to rule us.” Shining nodded, glumly. “I know,” he said, “I know. But, what about what Celestia said?” He was cut off almost immediately, “I’ve seen and heard many things,” his wife said, “and I don’t know even half of a bit of anything. But, if I know one thing, whatever gave that message was not auntie Celestia. It just couldn’t be.” Shining Armour considered himself a paragon - or as close as it was possible to be to one - of justice. He prided himself on being honourable by everyone, he did not bring himself to rebellion easily. “If we do this,” he said, “we do it together, with everyone.” Cadance nodded. “Of course. We do it for Flurry.” “For Flurry.” The yellow pegasus continued, “when the time came, they didn’t expect the Imperials to call for him. When he arrived…” From within the shield, Shining Armour, Cadance and their loose cohort of rebels watched helplessly as tens of thousands of Imperial soldiers slowly surrounded them. The shield, as Shining and Cadance had so liberally assured their fellows, would hold before any assault the soldiers outside could bring against them. Whilst true, the shield was relatively small, only protecting the town proper, they would all starve eventually if the siege continued. Mercifully, the siege would not be continuing long. The reason, however, was the arrival of the one person Shining Armour had hoped would not. From their makeshift fort on the hill at the centre of town, Shining and Cadance watched in horror as Emperor Nicholas stepped from the lines of Imperials, towards the shimmering purple of the shield. Their horror turned to little better than carnal terror as, with a single, furious punch, Nicholas burst the shield. Cadance was thrown to the ground, Shining only remaining standing as he was leant on a ledge.  He was the first to recover, adrenaline surging through his blood clearing his mind and driving him on. He lifted Flurry Heart, giving her a final kiss on the forehead, before placing her inside a panel on the wall, which he sealed with his magic. Then, he turned to Cadance, pulling her still partially stricken form to a hiding place beneath a desk. It wasn’t perfect, but there was little else he could do with so little time. The gunfire lasted only a minute, with a deadly silence falling throughout the town after. Shining swore he heard a voice cry out, “torch it,” though in his state he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was, Emperor Nicholas was coming. He could feel his malicious aura slowly approaching. Even if it killed him - which it certainly would - Shining Armour was going to fight, he was going to protect his family. “All three of them died,” the yellow pegasus finished, “the ruins have some sort of hex placed over them now. Though Spike says it was put there more recently.” Penumbra took the information in. “Not all three of them,” she said, “there was one who survived,” she then corrected herself, “in one way or another.” The yellow unicorn seemed confused. “One survived? Who?” Penumbra shook her head. “Nevermind. I came here looking for Ablazed Glory,” she said, changing the topic with effortless ease - that is to say, awkward insistence - “do you know where she is?” “She stayed in her old fort,” Spike answered, “which is in the ruins. But, there’s some invisible barrier that kills anyone who tries to enter, came up about three years ago. It blocks my fire, so it's definitely not some coincidence.” Magic - almost certainly Ablazed Glory’s - there was no doubt in Penumbra’s mind. Ponies had long been superstitious creatures, as Penumbra had already found out from talking to them they believed the place to be cursed. It did make some sense, no doubt Ablazed Glory had put up some sort of protective shield - albeit a very offensively defensive one - so ponies, not knowing that she had done this, would believe the ground haunted, as it was where two of their leaders were killed and a town incinerated.  There was, however, one major bit of information she lacked, namely, what magic Ablazed Glory had used. Penumbra knew more than her fair share of offensive spells, the majority taught to her by none other than Emperor Nicholas - a figure she did not know how ponies viewed - though none that she knew gave the power of an invisible death radius. She could always ask Ablazed Glory once she found her. “Take me,” she ordered, unconsciously pouring her authority into her voice. Even the comparatively immense Spike acquiesced. “Follow me,” he murmured, Penumbra’s innate presence subjugating him. The dragon led off, followed by the red maned yellow pegasus, orange unicorn and white earthpony. As they did, Penumbra took a moment to stop by the wheelchair bound stallion, his yellow pegasus attendant with him. “I’ll come back,” she said, “eventually. I promise.” The stallion wheezed a chuckle. “You need not promise,” he said, “one way or another, you’ve made this old stallion’s long life more than worth it.” She gave him a smile - both affectionate and sad - before marching off after Spike and the three ponies. Her size and natural speed allowed her to easily catch up simply by walking. They led her beyond the edge of town and up a wide hill. The hill itself was completely barren, save the grass. Strange, as in the other three cardinal directions there was rolling forest and flowers. The hill seemed almost artificial, though if it was it had been constructed a long time prior.  At the hill’s summit, Penumbra was treated to a clear view of a burned town. Only scorched stone, remnants of walls or floors, remained, the wood and ash that had remained untouched before having gone with time. Only one structure still stood, that being what could only have been Ablazed Glory’s fort. It was built of a black stone, though that could have been the after effects of the flames that had consumed the rest of the town. Spike led her a few metres down the hill, before coming to a sudden halt and blowing a jet of flame forwards. The green magical fire extended another metre or so, before spreading along an invisible surface, eventually petering out. “This is the barrier,” he said, simply, “no one has ever crossed it alive.”  “I intend to be the first,” Penumbra said, “I’ve died a thousand deaths already, not once have I actually stayed dead..” She took a step forward, Spike audibly inhaling as she did. She then took another, and another, then another. She kept walking for another few metres, feeling no change in regards to anything. Not even a tingle in her horn. The three ponies with Spike stared at her with a mixture of awe and shock, their mouths agape. Spike just chuckled and shook his head. She had crossed the barrier, unharmed. “Return to the town,” she said, “continue about your days. I will find Ablazed Glory.” Reluctantly, her companions nodded and turned back. She could hear the three ponies whispering something between them, but was too focused on moving to Ablazed Glory’s fort to properly discern what it was.