Chapter 26:
Twilight Falls
The doorway was so low that Welder had to crawl into the house on all fours. Twilight had been right, however – the ceiling was much higher. He could stand straight without fear of hitting his head. He looked around and saw he’d passed through a small vestibule into the main room, a kind of combination of kitchen, dining room and bedroom. A large stone fireplace stood in the center of the room, its chimney disappearing into the sloping ceiling. A ceiling window – an unlikely feature for similar homes on Earth – let in the gray evening light through a layer of snow. Walls and floors were unpainted and unvarnished wood, half-logs with the flat side inwards.
“Cozy!”
Twilight stood on the threshold to the vestibule and looked around.
“This is a typical earthbound pegasus dwelling. They have lots of airspace because they like to fly even while indoors. Will it do?”
Welder looked around thoughtfully.
“It will. A bit old-fashioned, but I should manage. Beds are too short, but I’ll improvise. What about the original owners?”
“They should be in Canterlot. This village was evacuated early on. They won’t be back before this is over – one way or another.”
“What village is this anyway?”
“Gallopwood.”
Welder peered into the three adjoining rooms. They were obviously used for storage. Since he was still unable to interact with Equestrian objects without endangering his health they held little of interest to him. There was a lack of furniture that struck him as odd, but that meant he had less to move out of the way: only a table, really. He shoved that against a wall and put down a bag of foodstuffs on it. The bag rattled, being mostly filled with tins.
Meanwhile Twilight had walked to the fireplace. She shut her eyes for a moment and concentrated, until a loud clatter sounded. A jumble of snowy firewood now lay next to the fireplace, and she picked up four pieces and stacked them in the fireplace.
“You know, there’s magic in your hair now too.”
She turned and saw Welder staring past her eyes. Craning her neck revealed that he was right. A weak purple shimmer was moving through her mane and tail. The sluggish motion reminded Twilight of sunlight on the seafloor. She groaned in annoyance.
“Ponyfeathers. I don’t need this on top of everything else!”
“I think it looks kind of awesome.”
She shot him an annoyed glare.
“Consider this: within two weeks I’ll have to cast something that will probably be very delicate and very, very complicated on you in order to save your life, and all of this extra magic is making it very difficult for me to even comb my mane without tearing it out due to misjudged strength.”
“Okay, it stopped being awesome.”
The logs in the fireplace were lit with a loud bang and sparks flying everywhere. Twilight jumped away, eyeing her coat warily for signs of smouldering hairs. When she found none she concentrated again and the book she’d been carrying appeared in the air, held in her magic. She looked around while biting her lip before levitating it under the table by the wall. Then she turned to Welder.
“I’m going to leave this book here with you. Welder, it’s very dangerous. Please don’t touch it.”
“What is it anyway?”
“It’s... a biography with a very extensive reference section. Look, can I trust you not to give in to your curiosity? I mean it when I say it’s dangerous.”
“I can’t read your language, so I think I can rein it in. But while we’re at it, I’d owe you a big one if you could magic up some entertainment. If you really plan on leaving me here then I’m bound to get bored.”
“Sure! I know just the thing.”
This time a large amount of books appeared and fell to the ground around Twilight. She looked down, obviously pleased, and picked one with her magic, floating it over to Welder.
“Start with this one. The title is ‘foal’s first book’.”
“Uh, thanks.”
“If you touch any of the pictures you’ll hear a voice speaking the name of the object in the picture.”
“Oh? Cool.”
Welder sat down crosslegged on the floor and flipped open the first page. As advertised the page was filled by a picture, a quite jolly rendition of a pony. Large Equestrian letters formed a single-word title below it. Welder pressed his finger against the page and was rewarded with a pony voice sounding from the book. He pressed it a couple more times, then he smiled shyly at Twilight.
“I don’t think I can make most of these sounds with my voice.”
“Your first aim should in any case be to understand pony speech. We’ll figure out a way to let you answer once you have a grasp of the language.”
Welder bent over the colorful book, coaxing the voice from the pages. After a while he looked up and saw that Twilight hadn’t moved. She was staring into space and her ears were twitching.
“Is something the matter?”
Twilight started and glanced at him with a guilty frown.
“I’m procrastinating.”
“Oh? I guess that’s reasonable. Those ash ponies don’t sound nice.”
“That’s not a problem. They’ll accept me as long as... as long as I look like them.”
“I thought you were going to wear that armor.”
“Yes, but that’s so they won’t recognize me. I need to shift my own magic to match theirs in order to be accepted. And... it’s a bad mix. Dark and chaos magic in roughly equal proportions.”
“What is it going to do to you?”
“It’s going to hurt.”
Welder watched as Twilight’s eyes grew forlorn and her lips started to quiver. He set down his book and scooted over to her.
“Hey. If it were just for me I’d tell you not to do it. It’s not worth it. But I get that you have to do this, and... I don’t know what would help. Do you have painkillers? No?”
She shook her head while a large tear rolled down her cheek.
“Aww hell, don’t cry. You’re gonna make me cry.”
He reached out and brushed away the tear on one cheek but it was soon replaced by another. Twilight leaned her head against his hand. Then she walked forward and gently lay down on his legs. Welder was surprised; she was heavier than he’d expected. He could feel her entire body shivering and occasionally twitching from a quiet sob. He started absentmindedly brushing her mane through his fingers while trying and failing to figure out what to do.
Suddenly Twilight’s body spasmed once, after which she went rigid with tension. A cry escaped her lips, weak at first but quickly gaining in strength. At the same time the purple fire in her eyes went out, to be replaced with a blue-black glow that seemed to seep out from the corners of her eyes like a fine mist before dissipating.
The cry cut off suddenly, accompanied by another spasm as Twilight’s entire body was engulfed by black and blue tendrils of fire. Welder yelled in alarm and leaned away, but felt no heat. When the flames winked out they seemed to take most of the colour in Twilight’s coat and mane with them. She’d turned ashen gray, except for the two streaks in her mane and tail. She was breathing heavily, and Welder noted that there was even blue and black fire coming out of her mouth.
Everything quieted down. Welder lifted a hand and touched his cheek, genuinely surprised to find it wet.
“Twilight, are you okay?”
She didn’t answer. Her eyes were closed. She was still breathing, though. He was getting uncomfortable with her weight on his crossed legs, but he didn’t want to move. He let both his hands rest on her back while he waited, occasionally lifting one to run it through her mane. Twilight obviously lived dangerously and was somewhat used to it. Welder’s idea of danger was not wearing a hardhat on a construction site. He began to realise how much he depended on Twilight.
When Twilight eventually stirred and opened her eyes she found Welder looking down at her anxiously.
“You scared me.”
She didn’t answer, instead trying to control her legs. After a couple of groggy attempts she managed to stand with Welder assisting her by pushing her up. She walked around until her legs were steady. Then she walked back to Welder, who was still sitting on the floor, and hugged him with her forelegs.
“Thank you.”
“Twilight, what do I do if someone comes? If I have to leave for some reason?”
She released him and stood back. A moment’s concentration conjured a large gem floating in the air, enveloped in a blue-black aura. Twilight inspected it with a frown before shutting her eyes and sending an arc of magic to it from her horn. Welder looked at the gem with wide eyes.
“Whoa. What is that?”
“Just a gem from nearby, I didn’t specify what kind when I fetched it. I’m putting a couple of small enchantments on it. If you hold it away from you and turn around it will shine brightly in my direction. If you squeeze it and speak my name I will hear it no matter where I am, even while asleep. That way you can find me and I will know you are looking for me. But only use it if you have an emergency.”
She floated the gem over to Welder, who raised his hand in order to pluck it from the air. Twilight quickly snatched it away.
“No, don’t touch my magic. Cup your hands and let me drop it for you.”
He did as told and was soon holding the gem, about the size of an egg, and looking into its facets.
“You’re telling me this thing just happened to be nearby?”
“Sure. They’re very common.”
He shook his head in wonder. Then he stood and watched anxiously as Twilight walked over to where she’d discarded the armor. She picked it up with her magic and straightened it out, and in a flash she was wearing it. Her horn now looked like a gray, fire-wreathed tongue sticking out from some monstrous insect’s mouth. The armor now seemed to radiate fear. Welder swallowed, caught in a fear all of his own.
“Be careful, all right?”
Twilight’s voice was changed by the armor. It ringed of steel and cruelty.
“I’ll be careful. I’ll be back in a week or so. Good bye, Welder.”
Once Twilight had left silence descended over the house, broken only by the turning of pages and the tumble of books. And one annoyed outburst.
“Does that damned pony think textbooks are entertaining?!?”
~~~~~
The two pegasi assigned to the patrol had spotted the single target easily. They had been curiously vague in their description, and Golden Spire now understood why as she peered cautiously at the apparition from behind a bush. The thing was fully covered in steel and cloth, and blue fire burned in its eyes and was exhaled with every breath. Lacy wings of black were folded on the creature’s back, rimmed by blue glow. Ghostly black-and-blue mist seemed to evaporate from its head and neck, giving it an ethereal mane of sorts. It strode on top of the soft snow without leaving a trace other than some trails where its garment disturbed the flakes.
A dread gripped Golden Spire as she observed the creature. She had to do something: it was heading towards the headquarters, through the areas she was tasked with guarding. She estimated that her chances, going up against something unknown and seemingly bursting with magic, were essentially non-existent. But to do nothing... and have that thing wander unopposed into headquarters... then, if she was very lucky, there’d be nopony alive to realise she’d let it through. She was stuck between the buck and the apple tree.
She glanced at her three fellows: another earthen and two unicorns. They all looked to her for leadership. Which was a farce, really: her family ran many businesses and were generally moderately successful businessponies and leaders. She, on the other hoof, was a painter. A painter that specialised in tasteful paintings of apple still lifes. Her family’s reputation had forced her into a role that did not fit her well.
She couldn’t give up though. Her insecurities and weaknesses had been brought into the open for everypony to see, and instead of ridicule had attracted sympathy and acceptance. Everypony else in her group was just as scarred, just as imperfect. They could only trust that the rebirth would also be granted to them even if they were already dead when the moment arrived.
Thus reassured she used silent hoof signals and whispered half-sentences to order the unicorns to signal the pegasi into an aerial attack. They were then to join the fight from a distance, throwing magic at the creature from behind cover. Golden Spire then glanced at the other earthen. Berryfield had been blinded by the revealing of his inner truth and was useless in a fight, unless the enemy was really loud. If two pegasi and two unicorns were unable to bring down their target then Golden Spire was all that was left. She donned her spiked helmet and horseshoes while the unicorns signalled.
The attack commenced with the clouds directly above and in front of the target beginning to churn and extend downwards. The creature didn’t seem to notice until it was too late: a big bolt of lightning struck it. When Golden Spire removed the hooves from her eyes she saw no trace of the intruder. There were sooty blast marks surrounding a pure white bulls-eye in the snow.
She let out a sigh of relief. That had been easier than she’d dared hope.
Oh no. She’d just jinxed it, hadn’t she?
Very nearly on cue, two panicked screams dopplered out of the sky and into the trees nearby before ending in pained grunts and breaking branches. The closer pegasus, a scrawny stallion that Golden Spire didn’t particularly like but who she now nevertheless desperately wished was unhurt, landed in sight of her with both wings encapsuled in a solid block of ice. A thunderclap made her cringe and look up again, at a hovering figure surrounded by electric radiance.
Flying, blue, pony-like, controls weather and freezes ponies.
“Windigo!”
Golden Spire was running before she’d finished her cry of warning. Windigos were mythical creatures, but her team’s drill instructor, an old veteran of the guard, had ordered them to formulate battle plans against many such beings. Then the team had rehearsed them. That was weeks ago, however, and nopony had taken it very seriously. Exercises meant to have them learn each others’ behaviour rather than actual combat preparedness training. She now bitterly regretted the casualness with which she’d dismissed the tactic from her memory, now trying desperately to recall it.
Two blue-black beams of magic streaked into the sky from her unicorn teammates, but the windigo teleported elsewhere long before the bolts had a chance to hit. Then a globe of blue fire enveloped one of the unicorns, and with a loud thump all the snow and ice in the vicinity flew up and drew together into a giant mound with the terrified pony in the middle.
“Gossamer Glitter, no!”
The other unicorn screamed with terror and desperation – Golden Spire remembered that the unicorns were cousins – before launching a bright beam towards the windigo. The bolt actually struck; Azureshine’s cry had gone unnoticed. It bowled the windigo over, but seemed to do little else. Azureshine definitely caught its attention, however, and when the thing stabilised itself it was facing the frantic unicorn.
“Azure, run you stupid foal!”
Golden Spire’s shout was ignored. Azure stood her ground, as did the creature. The unicorn’s resolve cracked first, and she sent another lance of energy hurtling towards the windigo. The creature launched its own beam, which snaked out and struck the incoming attack head-on... absorbing it. Then, much like a snake eating a smaller snake, the windigo’s magic travelled down the unicorn’s magic and locked around her horn. The glowing arc intensified while the terrified pony desperately tried to break the contact, to no avail. Azure wailed pitifully as her eyes rolled up into her head and she collapsed like a wet rag.
The windigo returned its attention to the pile of snow containing Gossamer Glitter, just in time to send another snaking energy arc towards the horn emerging around the melting and steaming snow. When the arc winked out Gossamer was unconscious with only her head freed. In the following silence the windigo slowly rotated in the air until it faced Golden Spire. She stood transfixed by terror as it slowly descended towards her. Sure, she was armed and armored, but that depended on her foe being earthbound.
This was it. She was going to die. The reassurances of a reincarnation and a better life suddenly seemed awfully flimsy to one part of her mind, while another cursed her faithlessness and a third simply resigned itself to her fate.
“Goldie? Did we win?”
That was Berryfield. His head appeared behind the crest of a hill, his milky-white, unseeing eyes gazing anxiously into his personal darkness while he slowly stumbled forward through the snow. It was enough to let Golden Spire free from the mesmerizing power of the two approaching pools of fire that was the windigo’s eyes.
“Berry, run!”
She yelled at him to flee, but through her tear-filled vision she saw him slow to a halt and sit down.
“I don’t hear any combat, Goldie. If you tell me to run, then why aren’t you already? What chance do I have to escape from something that defeated pegasus and unicorn alike?”
He was blind, but he was probably the bravest of the group... and the fiercest believer in the rebirth. Golden Spire smiled even through her desperation; he was truly an inspiration. Spirits uplifted, she turned to face her doom... only to see that the windigo had changed course.
“Berry... it’s coming for you.”
The earth pony lifted his head high, staring into the air with a defiance that took Golden Spire’s breath away.
“I am not afraid, Goldie. If I die here, then from my viewpoint my rebirth will only arrive that much sooner. No windigo can take that away.”
“Nopony dies here if I have anything to say about it.”
Golden Spire gasped with astonishment. The windigo’s voice was female, and tinged with metallic echoes. It spoke of ageless cruelty and a heart in which permafrost had settled since before history began. And yet... windigos were supposed to be monsters incapable of speech. It landed in front of Berryfield, much too distant for Golden Spire to be able to charge it before it had time to react. Berry seemed to sense the windigo, judging from how he leaned ever so slightly away. Then it spoke again.
“What has wounded your face?”
Berryfield let out a short laugh.
“You see a wound as if it could be healed. It is my spiritual imperfection manifest. Though it blinds me, it is surely much better carried on my flesh than festering within me, wouldn’t you say? Strike me down and my pure spirit, unburdened by this deformity, shall merely wait for its next and final shell.”
Golden Spire sighed and closed her eyes. Berry had sermoned at the windigo. He had either nerves of steel or an incurable insanity.
“May I try to heal your wounds, then?”
He snorted angrily. “Kill me or leave me alone. Don’t torment me with false hope.”
“I wouldn’t ask for permission unless I suspected I could do it, Berryfield. I mean you no harm.”
“Very well, windigo. Try your best. Then at least we’ll get this farce over with.”
Berryfield crossed his forelegs and tilted his head, gazing in the approximate direction of the windigo. Golden Spire saw a golden light envelop the monster’s horn, from which sparks flew and impacted Berryfield... and the disfigurements on his face melted away. He was suddenly blinking stupidly while his eyes focused. Then he turned and looked straight at Golden Spire, and they gaped at each other.
A cry of surprise made them aware of her pegasus teammates cresting the hill and looking at them in confusion. The windigo – if it really was one after all – looked back at them.
“I don’t mean to harm you. I am here to help, and ask that you show me to wherever you live.”
Berryfield now wore an expression of awed reverence. He prostrated himself in front of the creature and looked up at her with eyes flowing with tears.
“What is your name, great windigo?”
The creature paused for a moment.
“Call me Fulcrum.”