//------------------------------// // Chapter 72 // Story: Rekindled Embers // by applezombi //------------------------------// Chapter 72 Poem from ‘Songs from Across the Mirror’, a book of poetry attributed to Princess Sunset Shimmer.  Though she holds the copyright, the Princess has always maintained that she did not write several of the poems contained within.  I used to think that stories were just that Set in stone, concrete as a fact It didn’t dawn on me That I could change history Now I know I’m writing my own song Fight my way to the ending that I want I’ll turn a tragedy Into an epic fantasy There was a time that fear would hold me down Let it chain me to the ground Look at me now, I’m soaring high It’s never boring in the sky When I know I’ve got friends on my side Whatever trials, I’ll take them all in stride Together we will shine so bright A radiant brilliance in the night! You can be a hero too Take my hand I’m here for you Come away with me Be the legend you were meant to be New Canterlot City, 1113 AF “No, no, no!” Emberglow felt the bottom of the world drop out from underneath her as she cradled Rarity’s limp form.  “No!” “Emberglow!” Heartwing’s shout was a weak, strained thing, but it still bore the stern command of a military officer.  Something struck her cheek weakly.  A hoof.  Heartwing had slapped her!  “Knight Emberglow!  Calm down!” “But she…” “She’s alive.  And we have to make sure she stays that way!”  Heartwing hissed.  “Don’t you see?  She’s our last hope, now.” Emberglow stared at him.  The words were ephemeral, like echoes bouncing around in her head. Heartwing was smiling.  It was a grim sort of look, with blood on his chin and agony in his eyes, but he was smiling. His Element was glowing. At her left, Lofty stood, holding a hoof out to steady her. Lofty’s Element flashed as well. Topaz, behind her.  Terminus, weeping softly as he gently nuzzled Heartwing’s other side. Together they were wreathed in a prism of rainbow light. Too late, Elements of Harmony.  Too late.  We have already established that your way only perpetuates a cycle of misery and destruction.  Steadfast’s cold, alien voice was the last thing she wanted to hear right now. “I don’t think,” Heartwing said, grunting with pain, “that you know what you’re talking about.  Emberglow, here.” He lit his horn, straining, his expression screwed up with agony.  A trickle of golden magic swirled from his horn, to Emberglow’s gauntlet. “Wh-what are you doing?  Stop it!” she gasped.  At his other side Terminus frowned. “I’ve been impaled, Emberglow,” he said.  “You’ll need it more than me.” “But…” “Heads up!” Lofty shouted. Emberglow raised her shield, leaping into the air just in time as a wicked looking claw of frost and snow, with talons the length of her hooves, came crashing down towards Heartwing.  She beat her wings furiously, pushing against the deadly ice. The claw curled, forcing her down, a pointed tip diving towards Heartwing’s face. One link in the chain broken, and we can have peace again. Emberglow shuddered at the voice, somehow both cold and alien, and disturbingly familiar. “You can’t have him!” Emberglow shouted, even as she fought the icy talon’s advance as hard as she could.  Inch by inch she lost space. But then there was another; Terminus was at her side, beating his wings furiously as well, pushing at the shield, even though it put him directly under the claw, and in danger himself. “We won’t let you,” he agreed, and the two of them shoved. The Element of Loyalty will die regardless of what I do. There was something intimate in the voice now, like it was speaking just to Emberglow. He is not the weak link in the chain, Emberglow.  You are. She was shocked enough that she lost a few inches of precious distance.  Terminus grunted and let out a wordless cry of panic.  Emberglow tried to regain momentum, but the claw pushed. Pushed. When he is gone, what will you do?  Loyalty abandons you.  Who is next? “He… didn’t… abandon us,” Emberglow grunted.  “He’s… right there.” Dying.  Same thing. “Not…if I… can help it.” You know that injury is fatal. “I…don’t know anything…of the sort.” Denial, from the Element of Honesty?  I see a flaw in your armor, Emberglow. “Shut up!” Emberglow shouted, even as Terminus gave her a panicked look.  Her suspicions were right; only she was hearing Steadfast’s words.  Peace is inevitable, Emberglow.  Embrace it. The claw was an inch from Heartwing’s face.  He could not run.  Instead, he narrowed his eyes, lighting his horn one last time. It flickered and sparked, then faded.  He didn’t have the energy. The claw dipped.  Lofty had found a spear somewhere and battered at it from the ground.  Topaz soon joined him. Let it happen.  Small chips of ice broke from the claw, but their attacks didn’t change much. Let it happen. That was louder.  Topaz flinched. LET IT HAPPEN. “No.” Emberglow’s heart skipped a beat, and her breath caught.  Impossible hope flooded her thoughts. It was Rarity’s voice. She dared a look.  Rarity’s eyes were open, though they glowed white, with no hint of iris or pupil.  And her horn. Her horn… Her horn? Emberglow nearly lost her grip.  Rarity’s horn glowed with the same white blaze as her eyes.  She began to float, mane flowing in the air, motes of magic crackling all around her. Each point of light, each spark, dancing and flowing through the air until sliding into Rarity’s body. Emberglow’s fur stood on end as she watched.  The pressure on the shield let up. Further and further Rarity rose, beams of light bursting from her eyes, her horn, and her hooves.  But then it wasn’t just white.  It was a rainbow. Dancing, flowing streams of light, each one the color of their Element, floated through the air between them all, flowing into the teardrop gem around Rarity’s neck.  It, too, glowed with violet light, morphing and shifting. “Perhaps you could have been something more,” Rarity spoke, her voice echoing in the cold room.  Only, it didn’t feel quite as cold as before. “You had the potential to be a hero.  You had the opportunity to re-shape the world into something better.  But you were afraid.  Inflexible.  Corrupt.” The violet light of the gem crept up Rarity’s glowing horn, flowing along the spiral grooves.  Finally it came to a stop, just above the tip.  The Tear of Harmony was gone; re-forming in its place was a new gem: a magenta diamond, just like Rarity’s cutie mark.  Around it formed a tiara, materializing in a flash of light.  It was a delicate thing; silver filigree resting gracefully among the curls of Rarity’s mane. It suited her. “Maybe it was your destiny to be the Element of Magic.  But we’ll never know.  Because of your fear and mistrust, because of your need to control and manipulate, you never learned the magic of friendship.  True friendship comes from Generosity…” The motes of magic flowing from Lofty solidified into a single stream, flowing in an orb of light around Rarity. “…Kindness…” The same came from Terminus. “Laughter.  Loyalty.” Topaz had paused in her attacks on the claw.  Even Heartwing’s pained expression seemed to have lessened. “And Honesty.” Emberglow felt it pulling deep within her soul.  A light that was more than mere brightness, a piece of herself given but not taken, gifted but not lost.  A part of her, becoming and joining with a larger whole. “You could have formed the spark.  But you couldn’t let yourself be vulnerable, could you?  You could never bring yourself to treat others as equal.  And the one time you did finally open yourself up?  It was to the foul, unholy creatures that now share your body and mind.” The orb of magic around Rarity became brighter and brighter, more solid with every passing second.  Emberglow could barely bear to watch, it was so blinding.  But she didn’t tear her gaze away. “And now, because you failed, the duty passes to another.” The orb shattered into a billion motes of light, torn asunder as Rarity flared her wings. Emberglow blinked. Rarity had wings. They were perfect, glistening in the light shed by Rarity’s new horn.  Emberglow’s mouth was open in shock, even though she’d seen something like this once before, with Sunset Shimmer. Rarity was… She was… “I knew it!” Heartwing crowed, and then coughed, flecks of blood spraying onto the ground.  “I knew it!” They had no time to absorb the new changes.  The howling of the wind became a hurricane of fury.  The icy claw descended once again as Steadfast screamed with rage, loud enough to make them all flinch.  “I said no, you reprobate.  Couldn’t you at least have the decency to let us have a conversation before you interrupt?  Your manners are atrocious.” The claw shattered against a sudden shield, an orb of blue light.  Rarity’s eyes, no longer glowing, narrowed in offended poise at the misshapen figure floating above her. “I suppose I shall have to take care of you myself, then,” she said, before turning a kind gaze on Emberglow.  “Emberglow, dearest.  Please do your best for Heartwing while I manage this lout.  I believe in you.” One bolt of blue light from Rarity’s horn filled Emberglow’s gauntlet completely, then Lofty’s and Terminus’ as well.  A second blast sheared off the top of the icicle impaling Heartwing through the center.  Emberglow felt hope again.  With time, and with a full gauntlet, perhaps she could save him. But… “I will draw his ire,” Rarity said firmly.  Emberglow couldn’t help but keep glancing up at her horn.  What had happened there?  There was still lavender in its grooves.  “However, we do need a bit more space.  Be ready with your spells, darling.  Steadfast, do be a dear and follow me if you can, hm?” By now, Emberglow was somewhat used to being teleported.  It was much less disorienting than the last time.  In one moment they were in the room with the broken machine. The next, they stood in the courtyard in front of the Star Shine building. There were few ponies about; most had either fled or been killed in the riot that Emberglow had witnessed.  A few scattered startled faces glanced up at their arrival; from their ragged appearance, probably looters taking advantage of the bodies. Rarity floated above them, watching the Star Shine building, which was already starting to tremble with some unseen force. “Emberglow!” Terminus shouted, and Emberglow looked.  Heartwing had teleported as well, but the blade impaling him had not. He would bleed out in seconds. It was like her brain switched over.  A distant part of Emberglow welcomed the change; this was familiar to her. “Lofty, Terminus, blood restoration spells if you know them.” Step one, stop the bleeding. Step two, deal with the internal damage. Her first move wasn’t to cast a spell; she wrenched her dad’s old first aid kit out of her saddlebags and seized a compress.  Heartwing had already fallen to his side and was breathing weakly, his eyes closed.  She pressed the compress onto the wound in his belly.  His blood was spurting out onto the ground. “Hold this!” she ordered Lofty.  Between the two of them, Terminus was casting and Lofty was looking worried.  “Hard as you can.” “But…” “Now, lieutenant!” she ordered loudly, and ingrained training took over.  Lofty pressed his hooves on the compress. Emberglow was already in motion, a second compress at the smaller wound in Heartwing’s back.  She had to pull off some armor plates to get to it, tearing cloth with an adrenaline-fueled yank. “Topaz, you get this one,” she ordered, once the compress was where she wanted.  She nodded nervously, pushing down on the bandage.  “Hard as you can.  Trust me.” There was an explosion, and Emberglow dared to look up for a moment.  The Star Shine building was collapsing, imploding in on itself.  Tendrils of blue ice, sharp as broken glass, were shooting up through the structure as it fell apart.  Steadfast was coming after them. Rarity moved in front.  “You’ve got this, Emberglow.  And I’ll get him.”  Her attention was fully on the breaking building, but Emberglow heard the warmth and affection in her tone. It was energizing. With the two stallions pressing against Heartwing, Emberglow had a moment to cast the next essential spell; a monitoring enchantment. As before, though, the spell interacted weirdly with her blind eye. She could see the malfunction in Heartwing, the torn and broken tissues, the pierced organs. The severed spinal cord. It brought Emberglow up sharply. No, she told herself.  No.  Save his life first.  Worry about that bit later. Being able to trace each laceration and follow each bleed point meant she wouldn’t have to open him up for surgery.  Emberglow cast spell after spell, rebuilding and patching internal organs one hole at a time.  When her gauntlet went dry, Terminus was already there with his battery.  When that went dry, she grabbed Lofty’s. She used half his battery trying to reassemble Heartwing’s spinal cord.  “I… I can’t,” she said.  “He’ll live, but his spine—” The building in front of them shattered with a thunderous explosion.  Smoke and snow flurries filled the air.  Through it all, Emberglow could see a figure rising from the craterous ruin. Elements of Harmony.  You should not have resisted. “Can somepony shut him up?” Topaz asked. “Focus,” Emberglow scolded.  “Rarity will take care of him.” She didn’t even need to look as Rarity flew off, horn already blazing with fury.  Emberglow focused on the last of her spells. She’d failed. Heartwing would live, perhaps.  But he’d be paralyzed for life.  He’d never use his hindhooves again. The gift of magic from an alicorn herself, and she couldn’t do it. The disappointment was crushing.  But that was odd; a moment ago she’d been resigned to Heartwing’s death.  Now… she couldn’t even celebrate saving his life? “Wrap this around his barrel,” she said, passing a bandage over to Terminus.  He eyed her. Something was wrong. It was too cold. You know what’s wrong. Emberglow glanced around.  Nopony else reacted.  Steadfast was speaking to her again, and her alone. You had a brush with death.  You thought you would die.  So now you know. Where was he going with this?  She tried to ignore him.  Maybe there was something she missed, some spell that could— No spell will ever undo the damage. He wasn’t just talking about Heartwing’s spine, Emberglow guessed. Rarity lives.  But that means nothing.  Because nothing is permanent.  Nothing is sure.  And you know that now. Emberglow tried to ignore it.  She started tying off the bandage. Lofty stood up, stepping away. “What do we do now?” he asked, unsure.  His free hoof, stained with Heartwing’s blood, fiddled at his Element of Harmony idly. Emberglow glanced up, looking over the crater.  Rarity and Steadfast were high in the air, now, barely visible through the smoke and clouds.  Blasts of magic fought with cold blades of ice slashing through the sky.  A duel to the death, miles above them. The sense of disconnection was agonizing. “I don’t know,” Emberglow said, and now all of the Elements looked up at her with worry in their gaze. They could all hear something off in her voice. You had faith once.  Everything was certain.  Everything had an answer.  Believe, trust in the Saints, set your hooves on the correct path, and all your decisions, all your struggles, will be solved for you. Surety and confidence. But then you threw that away.  Because it was false surety.  False confidence.  You were bright enough to know it. You saw the lie, and you rejected it.  But with it went your confirmation.  Your truth. Element of Honesty…Emberglow.  You don’t have to live in uncertainty.  You don’t have to wonder about the future.  You don’t have to fear death and loss.  You don’t have to lose hope, ever again. Emberglow was breathing hard, her hooves frozen.  The sounds of distant battle echoed all around her.  Her vision tunneled. I saw your face, when you beheld what was left of Rarity’s horn.  I saw the hopelessness.  I feel it now, too.  You failed to fully save the Element of Loyalty.  You’ll fail again someday.  Ponies will die, because you will fail.  Over and over and over.  This is what uncertainty brings.  This is what hopelessness and chaos and imperfect knowledge will result in.  Again… Emberglow looked down at Heartwing, breathing slowly.  His forehooves twitched.  His hind hooves didn’t. …and again… She looked at the bodies in the square around her.  Refugees, mostly.  Ponies just seeking peace and shelter. …and again. All of her friends, besides the unconscious Heartwing, were staring at her in terror. “Emberglow?” Topaz asked, sounding terrified.  “Why is your breath not fogging in the cold?” *   *   *   *   * Despite everything that was happening, Rarity made a discovery. The act of flying was one of uninhibited joy. Even the cold winds over her wings sent a pleasurable tingle down her spine, and the sensation of movement was exhilarating.  She’d flown before, on conjured butterfly wings.  But while those fake wings had been things of grace and beauty, what she had now was something on a whole other level. She felt like she understood Rainbow Dash just a little bit more. It was a shame, then, that her first flight would be marred by such a brutal task. Steadfast Word was a singularly ugly creature, and he was only getting worse with time.  The hoarfrost and jagged ice jutting violently from his body was growing; blood had frozen solid along the sharp spines.  His eyes, glowing pools of baleful light, bored into her with violent intent. With every passing second, his form became less and less like a pony’s. “You were so eloquent a while ago, Steadfast,” Rarity taunted, firing a blast of magic.  He dodged, his own hooves running in the air as if it were solid ground.  She pressed her attack, wings beating even as she fired again.  “Something amiss?  Things not exactly going to plan?” He said nothing to her, merely waving a hoof.  Once again an icy claw conjured from snow and frost swiped through the clouds towards her.  Rarity met it with a beam of her own, and shattered ice rained into the fresh crater below. “I hardly see the need for this tantrum, though,” she continued.  “I’m not the one who broke your machine, or your tedious, wretched little building down there.  I’m not even the one who broke your city.  That was all you.” You think I am upset by all this?  By the destruction? A barrage of swipes, whistling through the air with their sheer speed, battered at her.  She hastily summoned a shield. Her new horn felt… different.  If her magic before had been like a faucet, this… this was like a floodgate.  She was used to channeling with finesse and dexterity, but this was something else.  A broadsword to her usual stiletto.  Or, for a metaphor more appropriate to Rarity, combat boots to her usual stiletto heels. Your borrowed horn is clumsy, alicorn. “Borrowed horn?” Rarity snarled.  Her shield became a wall of force, pushing him away.  Blood and frost spattered against its surface.  But she knew what he was talking about. Every spell, every shield or blast of deadly energy came with a hint of otherness.  She’d already noticed how different it felt, how much more powerful and blunt it was.  But there was more than that.  There was a presence to it.  The stronger her magic blazed, the more powerfully she felt it.  Heard it.  Smelled it. A kind voice, full of wisdom and eagerness. The smell of books, and ink, and dragon fire. Rarity imagined she could even see it; Twilight Sparkle, floating beside her in the air, horn blazing and wings beating powerfully even as her eyes blazed with determination. “It may be,” Rarity said.  “It was a gift, after all.  From the one you claim to represent with those blasphemous robes of yours.” I reject Saint Twilight, Steadfast shot back as he changed tactics.  The misshapen monster swooped down, trailing with him hundreds of smaller ice shards.  They rained down on Rarity, battering her shield, but several more shot past her, raining sharp destruction down on the town below.  I am better than her in every way.  If she rejected me, it was her own fault.  Tell me, false Saint.  How many down below can your shields protect? It was a bluff.  Rarity knew it was a bluff.  He was trying to get her to stretch herself thin. The risk was probably minimal.  Most ponies were probably indoors.  But Rarity spared a glance. Steadfast was moving to the west, his deadly shards raining down on the city below. There was motion in the distance; a lot of motion.  Hundreds of ponies on the move. Rarity bent her wings, swooping to intercept.  For a moment she idly wondered just how she was flying so well.  She remembered just how much trouble Twilight had at the beginning.  But she didn’t have time to consider that.  Instead, she put up a shield, a wide flat plane that blocked most of the shards.  It took barely any of her power. Rarity felt a flush of confidence.  It wasn’t even all bravado; Twilight was with her. “Nothing you do today will amount to anything, Steadfast Word,” she said.  “I am an alicorn.”  She flushed with joy at the declaration.  “A bringer of Harmony.  I stand against everything you represent.” You bring Harmony?  Arrogance.  You bring misfortunes and illusions to ponykind.  Temporary solutions that address the symptoms, not the disease.  Just look at your worthless Elements. “I am proud of my friends, you monster.  I trust them completely.” Friends?  They are nothing more than detritus.  Flotsam that washed ashore that you happened to pick up.  You say they represent the Elements?  I say they’re poor imitations at best. Rarity scowled as she held onto her shield.  Steadfast continued to drift west, further away from the ruined Star Shine building and the other Elements, towards the commotion.  Rarity could see there was a battle taking place, though she couldn’t make out the two sides. Shall we take them one at a time? The cold voice in her head sounded amused.  We shall start with the worst.  Heartwing. “Heartwing is noble and kind,” Rarity shot back. Your deceptions and lies do not fool me, Element of Magic.  I am Steadfast Word, but not.  Greater. I know everything he knew.  But also I am Windigo.  So I can see every tendril of hate, every wisp of jealousy, every hint of fear and spark of rage.  They swirl around all of your Elements.  Heartwing is full of them.  Loyalty?  His loyalty is a joke.  He clings to the memory of a dead mare, even as he violates her legacy with his actions.  He sends his ponies to battle, to war, to death, over and over again in service of somepony who would hate him for it.  He has never changed; he has simply learned to hide it.  In truth, he revels in the chaos and destruction his actions cause.  Heartwing is a façade; Discord still lives behind those mismatched eyes. “Your assessment is incomplete,” Rarity insisted.  She flew to keep up with Steadfast’s drifting, keeping the shield between him and the armies on the ground.  As she glided, she reached for more magic.  In the eye of her memory she saw a now-ancient battle; where Twilight faced off against a giant evil centaur, the cataclysmic Tirek himself.  Rarity tossed her mane back as magic gathered at the tip of her horn, and she swung it forward, as if the motion would lend more momentum to the blast. At the last second her shield parted and her deadly attack fired through. Steadfast was ready for her, lashing out with a dozen shards of ice, even as he swooped to dodge.  The blast clipped his side, sending pinkish icicles raining down over the town below. Razors of ice rained around Rarity.  They were small but sharp; a dozen needles piercing her flesh.  She let out a grunt of pain. Incomplete, perhaps.  But true.  You yourself see those weaknesses in him, do you not?  You supported Flurry at the sham trial in the North. “Of course you would know about that; your assassins were there, weren’t they?” Rarity was getting angry.  Which was his goal, she guessed.  It was a head game.  She was determined to win. Indeed.  But more than that, I can feel your doubt.  Not just in him.  But in all the others as well.  You call them friends, but you barely know them.  Not like the Elements before.  But Heartwing is not the only flaw in your armor, alicorn. What about Terminus Flash? “Terminus Flash is—” A killer.  To think, a pony like that discovered his connection to the Element of Kindness with an execution? Unconscionable.  Blasphemous.  He is a killer, over and over.  A thousand times.  Every single supposed kind act is just a vain attempt at justification.  He wishes to pretend to be kind.  And he wishes others to perceive him that way. “How do you know how—” I can taste his doubt and bitterness. He hates a memory, and his soul steeps in that bitterness for the mare he pretends to replace.  And I have feasted on his jealousy, his rage.  As with all the others. “Move on, then.  Say your piece, so we can get this over with.” Your impatience is a mask to hide your insecurity.  But very well.  Topaz Glitter?  She’s weak and untested.  A blade that has not been tempered.  She’s on the verge of shattering.  A life of privilege and peace, only to be brought face to face with our reality.  She shall not survive all of this with her smile intact.  Even now I see the seeds of trauma taking root in her soul.  How can she smile for others when she is broken herself? “You see in only one dimension, Steadfast,” Rarity said.  She had to turn this around somehow.  He was trying to get into her head.  And it was working. The worst part was, if what he was saying about sensing emotions was true, there was probably no point lying to him about it or pretending.  He knew his words were having an effect. But I’m not wrong.  What about Lofty Tale?  Like Topaz, born to privilege.  Like her, inured from the truths of the world.  Generosity?  His generosity is a joke.  So he gave away some money.  He volunteered some labor.  But to truly give, to sacrifice all that one has?  He has never had to give everything.  He cannot understand what that is like.  Not in the way you or I do.  Because he has never been called to do so.  He will break when Topaz breaks. Rarity dreaded what was coming next.  Emberglow.  She was the last.  She spared a glance, looking down at where they’d left the Elements behind.  Three ponies standing, facing Emberglow.  Heartwing was still on the ground. Something was wrong.  She couldn’t tell what. Without thinking, Rarity turned to move back in that direction.  But Steadfast unleashed another blast towards the city down below, forcing her to focus on her shield again.  She could keep this up for a long time, but she was starting to feel a little strain.  But what frightened Rarity more was the tickle of fear in her breast. Something was wrong with Emberglow. Her heart skipped a beat.  She tried to deny it, but there was a sort of premonition that came with it, a sense of impending doom.  She spared another glance back at her friends. Nothing had changed.  But still, worry and foreboding filled Rarity’s mind. “I won’t let you get in my head, creature,” she hissed defiantly. I am already there.  You cannot deny an invitation that has already been offered, Rarity.  Besides, you know what I am going to say next. Emberglow. Honesty.  You know her flaws better than anypony. “I have no interest in discussing this with you,” Rarity snarled, firing again through the shield.  Steadfast swooped again to avoid it, and was clipped, spinning back through the skies. But the voice continued undeterred. I wonder why the Element chose her?  She’s not suited for the task.  Certainly she was bright as a foal, but never looked beyond the mark.  Never looked outside her foreordained role.  Never questioned, never challenged.  I wonder how she was even capable of defying her faith? Did you know that many Knights have silent doubts and questions?  That’s how I was able to gather so many allies to my cause.  So many ponies with empty, broken faith, simply going through the motions because it’s all they know.  I offered them another path.  But I never got to have that conversation with Emberglow.  She was too brainwashed to question anything.  At least at first. “I told you I have no interest in this conversation!” Rarity’s magic bent the shield, and she started to wrap it, a convex curve of magic moving in on Steadfast’s sides, entrapping him.  He battered back at the shield, giant claws of ice slamming into it over and over. Rarity found a nearby cloud and landed, digging her hooves in so she could concentrate on her magic instead of flying. But Steadfast’s voice kept going. When she did begin to question, finally, what was the first thing she did?  She came to me.  She wanted me to make it all better.  To give her some answer that would make her doubts disappear.  To make the hurt go away, so she could just go back to her safe, ignorant life.  Does that sound like honesty to you?  An honest pony would accept a hard truth.  Emberglow wanted the comforting lie. “That’s not true!” Rarity screamed, squeezing with her shield.  Cracks appeared as Steadfast’s ice battered away.  Rarity poured more of her magic into her spell. Underneath them both, ponies went to war. And Steadfast kept talking. Even after my mistake, after I mistreated her, she still was practically paralyzed by guilt, wasn’t she?  I can feel it in her; it’s the crack in her armor.  I feel every flaw in all of them, Rarity.  I can take each of them apart.  Not just them, but hundreds of others down below. But Emberglow… she’ll be easy to break. Because you know why she is weak. Her guilt paralyzes her. She’s too cowardly to act; death stays her hoof. Her oath of peace is nothing more than cowardice. She craves easy stability over true honesty. With enough time, I can make her crack, Rarity.  Your Harmony is meaningless.  An illusion.  As I’ve said before, it cures the symptom but never addresses the disease.  Emberglow knows this.  And she’s a healer.  She knows I offer the real cure.  And the fear I can taste coming from your mind, Rarity?  You know it too. Rarity howled, pushing with her magic as hard as she could.  There was no thought, no strategy, only fury and panic as she tried to crush him.  The shield shattered, and Steadfast was on her in a flash, claws demolishing the clouds around her as they cut through the frigid air. Rarity’s wings beat frantically as she retreated.  Again and again his claws crashed down on her, shattering off each of Rarity’s hastily conjured shields.  She could feel the ice each time; a hundred tiny papercuts, assaulting her limbs, her face, her ears, even her brand new wings, a chill accompanying each strike. She could feel the warm blood on her fur, quickly cooling in the wintery atmosphere.  The pain of each tiny gash wasn’t much, but she could feel the collective weight of her injuries.  Death by a thousand cuts, indeed. Rarity had to finish this soon.  Finish off this abomination, so she could be at Emberglow’s side again. “Twilight, if you’re listening,” she whispered, horn blazing and crackling with energy.  “I need some assistance here.  Any ideas would be marvelous, darling.” But Twilight was silent.  And Steadfast wasn’t giving her time to wait.  A claw slashed at her muzzle and Rarity blocked with a shield, only to be knocked back by a summoned blast of wind, howling with the voices of the damned. Rarity spun and tumbled through the air, landing roughly on a cloud that looked far softer than it actually was.  The cloud crackled with thunderous energy. Perhaps it wasn’t Twilight Sparkle’s help she should be asking for, Rarity mused.  Perhaps she should be channeling Rainbow Dash. “Very well then,” she muttered, slipping behind the cloud even as Steadfast pursued.  “Rash impulsiveness it is.  Do keep an eye out for me, Miss Dash.  This was your purview, after all.” It seemed odd for her to be speaking to her dead friends.  It was almost like a prayer.  But that thought was too upsetting to consider for long.  So instead, she did what Dash would have done, and stopped thinking. Pegasi magic worked on instinct, right?  And she had that magic in her now. Rarity kicked the cloud. There was a flash of lightning, and Rarity felt her hair and her mane stand on end.  Carefully filing that information away for later consideration (if certain kinds of magic would have a deleterious effect on her mane, she may have to reconsider this tactic), she darted to another cloud. Now wasn’t the time to worry about collateral damage to her coiffure, after all.  Steadfast chased after her right as her hooves slammed into the second cloud.  More lightning flashed around them, and Rarity saw Steadfast grunt, tossed back. “Don’t like that, do you?”  Rarity had a flash of inspiration.  She charged her horn, as if to fire another blast.  Steadfast reacted, bracing himself, a pair of icy claws curling to shield himself.  But she didn’t fire the building magic; instead letting it flow out into the clouds around her. It was a risk; magic without direction tended to have a mind of its own.  But Rarity was ready for desperate risk right now.  And having an entire cloudbank’s worth of magically-charged lightning she could unleash on this tenacious foe sounded like it was worth a try. It certainly made Steadfast pull up short.  When the expected blast of magic never came, he floated forward, claws swiping through the air.  But as the clouds started to crackle and spark with the overflowing energy, he reared back. W-what are you doing? There was a wicked sort of thrill in Rarity’s heart to hear the fear in his voice.  She kicked one of the clouds, already sparking and vibrating. The cloud exploded, lightning and magic burning through her as her vision blanked out in a wave of white.  The sound of the explosion rang in Rarity’s ears, and for a few seconds she could only hear ringing, and only see blinding light. Perhaps this wasn’t the most ideal time for magical experimentation.  When Rarity’s vision cleared, the clouds around her were still vibrating and crackling.  Steadfast was several yards away, drifting in the sky, his head thrown back and limbs akimbo.  He was slowly sinking downwards, and bits of ice sloughed off his broken form. Rarity prepared herself to hit another cloud.  If that had worked, then perhaps… Hey, crazy mare! It was a very different sort of voice that thrust itself into Rarity’s mind.  Certainly not the cold, sibilant whispers of the Windigoes, or even Steadfast’s more insistent drone.  It was somehow warmer, and angrier. Wanna cool it on the lightning?  I was barely able to shield my ponies in time! Rarity’s mind, still reeling from her own explosive magic, took a moment to catch up.  The sound of wings from below her stole her attention. It was another alicorn, golden orange in rather fetchingly brilliant armor.  Resplendent even amidst the cloudy gloom that surrounded them.  And her expression blazed with consternation. Sunset Shimmer.  Probably using a telepathy spell to get in touch. “Princess Rarity, I assume? Need some help?” she shouted as she approached.  Sunset’s expression shifted to one of concern.  “Maybe before you blast your allies with more lightning?  Your crazy attack isn’t exactly helping.” “Apologies, darling.  I’m not exactly practiced at most of this.”  Rarity leveled her horn at Steadfast.  “But some help would be wildly appreciated.” Steadfast had collected himself, and was no longer sinking.  Instead, he was eyeing them warily, his cold, dead eyes fixed on the two alicorns.  “You may have made the battlefield a lot more dangerous,” Sunset said, eyeing the clouds.  “And we need to shut him down quickly.  He’s creating all sorts of chaos down below.” “What do you mean?” Rarity asked.  Sunset started to drift to the left, her wings beating slowly, putting a touch of distance between them.  Rarity understood; there were two of them, and they could flank the creature. “Getting into ponies’ heads,” Sunset said, with a grim sort of experience in her voice.  “Trying to make them doubt.  If a pony falls too far, they go berserk.” A thrum of fear beat in Rarity’s chest. Emberglow. “It’s making a mess of the battle down below.  We’re trying to evacuate the Radiants, and everything is falling apart because of this bastard.  Glad to see that new tiara of yours, Princess Rarity.  But why aren’t you with the other Elements?  Feels like rainbow laser time to me.” Of course. She’d gone off on her own, like some sort of dashing hero, to try and save the day. One set of wings and suddenly she thought she could be like Twilight Sparkle and handle everything by herself. It is too late, Sunset Shimmer.  It is too late, Rarity.  All I need is one broken link. “I… I need to go,” Rarity gasped out.  “Could you, perhaps, keep his attention?” “Sounds like fun,” Sunset Shimmer said with a smirk.  But Rarity could see the nervous fear behind Sunset’s confident expression. “I’ll be right back.” You’ll be too late. I already have her. There is no hope left. *   *   *   *   * A thousand voices screamed in Emberglow’s mind.  A thousand icy needles dug into her brain.  She was screaming, a roar of agony ripping from her throat. She could see nothing, hear nothing other than her own screams and the desperate wail of winter. right they’re right he’s right It was her own voice, joining the legion. Her own voice, screeching in the cold. no hope no certainty no faith She flailed about inside her mind, desperately grasping for something, anything, to hang on to.  Some sort of lifeline.  Some sort of path out of the madness that grew like hoarfrost inside her thoughts. There was only her own voice, screaming back at her. nothing permanent nothing certain nothing to hope for But wasn’t there?  Wasn’t there something?  In some distant corner of her mind, she heard voices singing.  A song about hope.  And coming together. sung by a pony you couldn’t save sung by a mare who’s abandoned you sung by dead ponies, by dying ponies There was an image, too.  White and violet.  Wings and a horn.  An image that inspired love. she will die your friends will die you only have to fail once and the world ends More screaming.  More voices.  Shouting.  Others.  Her friends?  Dead ponies.  Perhaps dying ponies. Nothing made sense any longer. You crave certainty, Emberglow.  A safe haven.  This time it was Steadfast again, rather than her own screaming torment.  Remember when you once relied on my wisdom?  You can have that, again.  Free yourself from the pain of uncertainty.  Free yourself from the torment of having to choose. Give in.  Your fight is only temporary.  Even if you win today, you’ll have to fight.  Again.  And again.  And again.  There will never be peace.  There will never be rest.  Until the very day you give in and die.  Why prolong what will be inevitable? “Emberglow!” “Saints, Emberglow, please listen!” “Lofty, watch her, she’s about to—” Dimly she was aware that she was moving.  That something was moving her limbs.  It felt like her wings and hooves were floating on a cold wind. Only, the cold didn’t feel so cold any longer. Emberglow knew the stages of hypothermia.  She’d read about the euphoria that came towards the end, minutes before a pony froze to death.  The sense of warmth, of not feeling the cold any longer. Perhaps that was what she was feeling right now. It was sort of floaty. “You can’t give in, please!” She barely remembered who was begging her to… …what was it they wanted her to do? At least she felt warm, now. At least there was that. That certainty. That… “Darling.” A blaze of flame cut through the false warmth, and Emberglow shivered.  Cold pierced her limbs, her muzzle, her wings. Bitter cold, stabbing at her with a vicious, living ache. come back you can have certainty you can have peace “Emberglow, darling.  I made a mistake.  I hope you will accept my apologies.” The voice was like a bonfire that ripped through her body.  She screamed again at the blazing agony. There were wings.  Larger than her own, and they encircled her.  Something pressed against Emberglow’s chest. “Please, darling.  What do I need to say, for you to come back to me?” false hope temporary life uncertain future “You’re right,” somepony croaked. It was Emberglow.  Emberglow’s voice, dragged out of her. “I’m right, darling?” But Emberglow wasn’t talking to Rarity.  She wasn’t talking to her love, even as she leaned into the embrace, the fiery, agonizing, life-giving heat. It was uncertain, this fire.  It hurt.  It might die out some day.  Emberglow certainly would. The fire kept on burning.  Yes, it was uncertain.  But it was life.  And as long as it stayed alight… Trembling and shivering, almost lost in her own mind, Emberglow embraced that uncertainty. Something was glowing.  Her Element.  Rarity’s Element.  The others, as well.  They were all crowded around her, Rarity closest of all, with her wings and hooves clenched tight.  Lofty and Topaz, holding each other’s hooves, reached out their free hooves to touch her side. Terminus was helping Heartwing to rise on his haunches, and each of them were reaching for her as well. The elements shined and pulsed. “Back with us, dear?” Rarity asked, pulling back so Emberglow could see her tear-stained face.  “What happened?” “I’m so frightened,” Emberglow admitted.  “Over and over.  No matter what we did, we always lost.  We were always beaten back.” It was true, in a way.  Every victory was tainted with defeat.  Every step forward was another setback, another pony lost. Gadget. Escher. Bubblegum. Flurry Heart. So many more. “I lost heart for a bit,” she admitted, the shame of it like a cold icicle in her stomach.  “He got to me.”  Rarity looked at her, eyes wide with concern.  “I think...I think part of me wanted what he offered.  Still wants it.”  She shivered.  “I’m afraid, Rarity.  I’m afraid of everything.  I’m afraid of the future.  I’m afraid of this.”  Her hoof brushed against her Element, pulsing with each admission.  “We’re practically homeless, we jump from one disaster to the next, and ponies keep d-dying.  I’m scared and I’m tired.” She pursed her lips, tears streaming down her cheeks. “But…” Emberglow paused and swallowed.  Her throat hurt. “…but I’m going to have to be okay with being afraid.  Because the alternative is I lose all of you.  Especially you.” She buried her face in Rarity’s fur. “I shouldn’t have left you here alone,” Rarity admitted.  “I forgot something important, something I once heard from Princess Celestia.” “What’s that?” Emberglow asked. “That Twilight Sparkle, even with all her power and brilliance and accomplishments, owed everything she had not just to herself, but to her friendships.” Rarity’s voice was strong and gentle.  Emberglow wanted to melt into the warmth.  “What is the Princess of Friendship, she said, without her friends?  I may not be Princess of Friendship, but I still should have remembered.” “You did eventually,” Heartwing said.  “Just in time, too, I’d say.” Emberglow sniffed, and looked up.  In the skies, she could barely make out two figures darting through the clouds.  One frozen and blood-soaked, the other golden and radiant. “It’s time to bring this to a close,” Rarity said.  “Together.” She stepped back from Emberglow, spreading her wings. Emberglow did the same. “Do we need to be close?” Topaz wondered, and Rarity shook her head. “No.” She sounded confused.  “I’m not sure how I know, but… as long as we’re united in heart.” “Anypony else need to get an existential crisis out of the way?” Heartwing noted dryly, and Terminus huffed from his nostrils, rolling his eyes.  “No?  Great.  I don’t know if I have the patience for another.” “Be nice,” Terminus muttered. But Emberglow laughed.  It was a watery sound, but it brought a smile to their faces.  “It’s fine.  S-sorry, all of you.” “Nothing to apologize for,” Heartwing noted, and the others nodded along. “I’m not sure what comes next,” Rarity said.  “But…stay close.  Hold each other.  And if you hear his voice again, speak up so we can support you.” Emberglow jerked, startled.  Her mind was empty of Steadfast’s voice.  Instead, she realized, there was nothing but warmth. She shivered again. “I’m going to draw his attention back to us,” Rarity said.  “Come with me this time.” “Okay,” Emberglow said. The fear was still there.  The uncertainty, the guilt, the bits and pieces of her that would always be broken. But that was okay. The two mares flew into the skies, and Rarity’s horn blazed with blue light.  Emberglow stayed close by her side.  They didn’t go far, just a few dozen feet above the others, when Rarity’s sharp blast of magic cut through the clouds, slicing between them and causing Steadfast and Sunset to pause their fight. Emberglow could see wounds on the distant alicorn, blood marring her golden armor. “Pit yourself against me, monster,” Rarity shouted.  “Your ideals against mine.  And we shall see who is stronger.” Steadfast’s howl cut through the skies, an angry cacophony of a thousand voices muttering in cold fury.  With one last powerful slash he cut the reeling Sunset out of the sky, and she landed hard on a cloud.  With no further warning he dove, torpedoing towards them.  A thousand icy needles grew from his flesh. “What do we…” Emberglow began. Rarity’s hoof found hers. They held on. “We answer hate with love.  We answer death with hope.  And we melt the ice with fire.” They had seconds before Steadfast reached them. Rarity leaned over and kissed Emberglow. When they separated, Rarity’s eyes were glowing white. “We choose to live, even if we will die.”  Rarity’s voice boomed around them, deafening and enervating all at the same time.  “We choose to love, even if it will hurt.  We chose hope even when it’s hopeless.  We choose.  WE CHOOSE!” A beam of light burst from each of the Elements.  Each pony rose up into the air, eyes glowing.  Each pony held their partner’s hoof. The glowing lights connected, a chain of love. Unbroken. “We reject you, Steadfast Word, and everything you represent.  We reject you, Windigoes, and the winter you bring.  Because love is greater than hatred.” There was a flash of magic too bright for Emberglow to see.  But she dared not close her eyes.  A nova of light flooded the skies; arrows blazing through the sky, piercing the misshapen creature. A thousand voices screamed in agony.  They begged and threatened, wept and raged.  They tore at Emberglow’s mind. She held tighter to Rarity’s hoof. There were no words, just senseless emotion.  Emberglow felt every bit of it. Rage. Jealousy. Fear. Guilt. But most of all? Regret. Emberglow could feel it.  Almost lost in the dying screams of a thousand Windigoes, the one piece of Steadfast that she knew, in her heart of hearts, was his and his alone. Regret. And then the light was gone.  The clouds were gone.  And a pure, golden sun shone in a bright blue sky. Something tumbled out of the air.  A limp, broken body of a limp, broken pony.  Reacting without words, Emberglow and Rarity both flew up. Between the two of them they caught Steadfast as he fell.  His eyes, blank and staring, held none of the cold, dead light of the Windigoes. But he lived.  And breathed.  And his breath fogged in the still-cold air.