“Look at them,” he hissed, torchlight glinting from his horn, “celebrating without a care in the world.”
“They’ll soon learn,” a sneer came in reply, “and they’ll not soon forget the lesson we’ll teach.”
“When do we teach it?” asked a rougher voice, flapping wings in punctuation. “I’m getting impatient.”
“Wait,” the first voice said, “once Fancy Pants is distracted, then we will act and his reputation will lie in tatters.”
==
The withdrawal of Fancy Pants and his entourage of sycophants had freed things up for Spike to continue impressing with his knowledge of art and admit that Twilight Sparkle had helped drill him and agreed he could leave all but the essential chores until after he’d studied for the event. Though Spike also admitted that second part was a mixed blessing as of the essential chores that couldn’t be left was to rewrite all the checklists to reflect those that could be and to write checklists for the studying. Joe had sympathised and said his plan, if you could call it that, had been to read the basic books and then whatever caught his interest. So they teased him that they hoped he’d be more organised with the talk he had to give.
As Spike finished talking about one particularly fine example of cubism his dissertation had been interrupted by his digestion and that gurgle seemed a fine message that it was time to snack. Rarity repeated her warning about genteel use of the buffet and they had gone out into the garden and begun to make their way towards those tables, not hurrying and taking the time to look at sculptures on the way and for Rarity to smile and greet and exchange words with some of the many Ponies she knew. Progress had been slow enough that Spike had started to hope his stomach was not going to complain again.
“What the…” Joe said, stopping and blinking as the band started on a new tune.
“Oh I like this one,” smiled Rainbow Dash. “I whistle it for rhythm if I fly down Ghastly Gorge.”
“Yeah, er, wha…” Joe replied, his jaw slightly slack.
“I think Joe has gone bye-bye on us,” stage-whispered Spike.
“Is this another strange coincidence, dear?” Rarity asked sympathetically.
“Yes,” Joe said, giving his head a quick shake to clear it. “A tune that sounds the same, as far as I can tell, as a human tune that is part of an Opera based on human mythology.”
“What do you think it’s called then?” asked Rainbow Dash.
“Ride of the Valkyries…” Joe paused and looked at her. “Which I suppose is appropriate for you to whistle, in some versions of the myth they rode winged horses, though a different mythology from the one where those were called Pegasi.”
“You look like you need a drink,” commented Rarity.
“I feel like it,” Joe admitted.
Their progress towards the refreshment tables was rather more determined and to Spike’s relief he made it without gurgling. Joe picked up a glass of something that looked promising and slugged half of it back, causing a moue of dismay from Rarity, before he settled to sipping. Spike nibbled on a plate of snacks that he had not piled high as it seemed they would be staying by the table until somepony asked the obvious question.
“So,” Rainbow Dash asked, “who were these Valkyries?”
“The choosers of the slain for the chief god of that pantheon, Odin… which is another strange coincidence.”
Joe drained the rest of the drink and took a second, which to Rarity’s relief he did settle for sipping.
“How so?” Rarity asked.
“It could be translation magic, but if I am hearing and saying the same thing then four of the days of the week here are named after that pantheon. Odin could also be called Wotan or Wodin, hence Wodin’s day.”
Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and Spike exchanged glances as Joe drained half his second drink. Leaving aside that this was not very dignified for such a formal event, which Rarity was trying to do, this did not seem like him. None of them thought he was teetotal but he’d seemed happy with tea or coffee and Rarity had not noticed a barrel of cider in Joe’s hut when she had snooped around after his visit to the Everfree with the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Stalling for time as she decided what to say Rarity’s horn glowed and she artistically arranged a plate of snacks first for Rainbow Dash and then for herself.
“I’m sorry if the evening has been spoiled…” began Rarity, as Rainbow Dash’s expression showed she would have preferred less artistry and more food.
“No, no, not at all,” Joe reassured her and the others and managing a smile. “And if anything I should be apologising to Spike as I am talking human things again rather than listening to him.”
“This piece is pretty well known,” replied Spike, once he had swallowed, “and it seems your turn again, so don’t worry.”
“Thanks,” Joe nodded, “it’s just… one thing to see artworks in the same style, but hearing something that seemed identical…”
“Why would the Valkyries be choosing the slain anyway?” asked Rainbow Dash, deciding to not pile more on her plate. “Is this more of your meat eating?”
“Oh yuck. Thank you Dash,” Joe replied, shaking his head and smiling more genuinely. “Though I can’t be too offended.”
“Sorry anyway.”
“No worries.”
“So why were they choosing the slain?” Spike asked, noting Joe had only answered the second question, and had not denied it.
“Odin sacrificed an eye for knowledge of the future and saw a great conflict, Ragnarok, the Twilight of the Gods, in which he and most of the other Gods would die,” said Joe, launching into the tale, “and fire and ice and blood consume the nine worlds of that cosmology. So against Ragnarok his Valkyries gathered the Einherjar, the worthy dead, to the great hall of Valhalla. Outside this hall these chosen warriors would battle each day, and each night their wounds, even fatal ones, would heal and they would feast and boast of how they would fight even better in the morn.”
“That sounds rather unpleasant,” Rarity commented between discreet nibbles of her refreshments, “but maybe it’s a human thing.”
Joe chuckled. “I think it’s unpleasant and even a thousand or more years ago when the religion was strongest there were humans in those lands who were not too keen,” he smiled. “This was a fine idea for those who made their living through battle and warfare, that they would be rewarded with more of this and have the chance to take part in the largest and most important battle ever. And that Odin granted or withdrew his luck to suit his own schemes explained why warriors or armies were defeated, your brother wasn’t an idiot… he had become so great a warrior that Odin thought him worthy to be taken to Valhalla.”
“Or he was an idiot,” Rainbow Dash suggested, after swallowing the entire tiny pastry she had got in her mouth.
“True,” nodded Joe, “but they were generally brave idiots as you only get one death and so one chance to impress a Valkyrie.”
“I’d find winning without dying more impressive,” Rainbow Dash snorted.
“There is a saying, you don’t win a war by dying for your country, you win it by making the other poor bastard die for his. Or preferably win by not having to fight it at all.”
“So Odin was gathering the humans who liked to fight,” Spike asked, refilling his plate, “so they could fight for him?”
“Ragnarok was not a war that could be avoided, every attempt to change the course of events simply set them firmer on that path,” Joe nodded again. “What he could do was try to make the battle less even, hope that he could gather enough Einherjar that the mutual destruction would not be so complete. But even with them there would be few survivors, it was a very gloomy myth.”
“I can see why some humans were not so keen,” said Rarity, nibbling and thinking.
“They still believed that there would be Ragnarok,” Joe admitted, “it was the duplicity of Odin they disliked. He might be the Chief God and so the God of Kings and of those who went raiding, but they were farmers and settlers and fighting and scheming was none of their concern. But good weather was so amongst them Odin was secondary, or nearly so, to his son Thor… as in Thor’s day.”
“Huh. Sounds boring…” commented Rainbow Dash, making Rarity wince as her friend spoke with part of her latest snack still in her mouth. And making Joe look at her for a moment in disbelief and then break out into laughter. Rainbow Dash’s eyes narrowed at this. “What are you laughing at,” she demanded, only making Joe laugh harder at her expression. “If this is the God the peaceful humans liked then…”
“Thor… boring,” Joe managed to choke out. Then he took a few deep breaths and managed to speak. “Saying Thor is boring would be like saying you were boring Dash.”
“What?”
“I know you like Rainbow,” Rarity commented with deliberate understatement, “but are you comparing her to a God?”
“Why not?” asked Joe, bowing to the blue Pegasus in question.
Rainbow Dash was still looking unamused at the laughter. “This had better be good.”
“Thor, son of Odin and Fjorgyn, the Goddess of the Earth. Hot tempered…” Joe winked to Spike and Rarity. “But known for his loyalty and strength. The honest protector rather than the scheming ruler. His was the power of the storm that destroys as well as the gentle rain that nurtures. A fierce and mighty foe to any who would threaten the innocent.”
“Hmm, does sound familiar,” Rarity mused, nibbling with a smile. “I think I know someone who is loyal and strong and has control over the weather.”
“And who commands the very lightning itself?” asked Joe.
“I recall some pranks on Nightmare Night,” Rarity nodded.
Joe nodded back and remembering that Rainbow Dash had once kicked a Dragon and that he’d almost mentioned this ‘Dragon’ in the talk about sizes decided to continue. “At Ragnarok Thor would fight the Midgard Serpent, the snake that was large enough to encircle the human world…”
“Now that sounds like a big Dragon,” Spike commented with satisfaction and a third plate full of food.
“And crush its skull with Mjolinir, his mighty warhammer, before he succumbed to its venom.”
“How brutal…” Rarity winced, but then she realised why Joe had said it and shook her head with a smile. “And I don’t know anyone whose response to a gigantic ‘serpent’ would be to hit it in the head.”
Rainbow Dash grumbled something about snoring and although Joe was puzzled why she’d done that it did remind him of another tale. “Hitting things in the head was one of Thor’s favourite means of solving problems,” Joe continued. “One time he and a pair of human servants were travelling and thought they were sleeping in a great hall. Then they discovered it was actually the glove of a Giant, giant human shaped creature I mean…”
“Must have been quite the difference in size,” said Rarity, nodding sagely as she looked to Spike and Rainbow Dash. “Gloves are clothing for human hands.”
“Riiiight…” Rainbow Dash said sceptically, eating a sliver of cake.
“Some versions say it was only the thumb of the glove,” nodded Joe, holding up his left thumb, “and some illustrations make it the whole glove and only the size of a tent rather than a great hall. But whether the Giant was hundreds or ‘only’ dozens of times as tall as him Thor’s response to it snoring and disturbing him was the same. He went up to it as it slept, and began hitting it in the head with Mjolinir to wake it up and command it to stop.”
“I have no idea who would do such a thing,” Rainbow Dash blushed as she remembered the snoring Dragon she had kicked in the head to tell it to stop and realised Joe either already knew or had heard her mutter.
“Indeed,” agreed Rarity, “seems quite an impulsive act, doesn’t it Rainbow?”
“Though,” a voice commented, “both the tale of Thor and whatever you are thinking of, Rarity my dear, sound like more tales worth telling.”
“Fancy Pants!” Rarity squeaked, hoping he had not noticed the number of snacks the other two had consumed.
They looked around and saw that, as expected, where Fancy Pants went so did several other Ponies. Realising he’d had a small discreet audience, and upsetting Rarity as he did have that audience for his next actions, Joe drained the rest of his second drink. He visibly considered a third before he looked more fully at Fancy Pants and spoke again. As much as he liked this Pony he had hoped to not see him again tonight because of the crowds in his wake.
“My knowledge of the mythology is limited,” Joe said calmly, “and contaminated by the fact that humans have fictional heroes such as Ponyville had in reality with that Mare-do-well. Some fifty or so years ago there was a revival of those stories and having invented what he was promoting as the mightiest mortal of all time a man wondered what next.”
“And, asking to be obliging,” smiled Fancy Pants, “what was next?”
“If he had the mightiest mortal then what about the mightiest immortal?” Joe asked rhetorically. “And since the tales of that pantheon were not as well known as some then why not choose Thor, God of Thunder?”
“Why not indeed,” agreed Fancy Pants, “though you seem to know the tales well enough.”
“Because the side effect of publishing stories,” Joe smiled, “with a few breaks, for more than fifty years about a set of Gods is to make them better known… especially when the writers of those stories draw inspiration from the mythology.”
“Have you considered setting down some of what you know?” asked Fancy Pants.
“Maybe if you had typewriters designed for hands rather than hooves and magic,” Joe replied, seeking a polite excuse as he wriggled the fingers of his left hand and decided to not mention word processors, “but I…”
There was a sudden commotion and Joe broke off what he was saying to look towards this. He could see over some heads and most backs and he put his empty glass down as his eyes narrowed. Rarity and Rainbow Dash had been talking quietly and had established that Rainbow Dash had muttered quite loudly and that Rarity, at least, had not told Joe about the snoring Dragon. Seeing Joe’s reaction and hearing the noise Rainbow Dash unfurled her wings and with an effort managed to take off and hover.
“Rainbow!” Rarity hissed, seeing how the long skirt was creasing and folding and the gem strings clattering together. “Your dress.”
“Never mind that,” replied Rainbow Dash, settling again as that was so awkward.
Spike hopped up onto the table and nodded.
“What is it?” Rarity asked, deciding to concern herself with the commotion rather than the dress.
“Five, what look like…” said Joe.
“Changelings!” Rainbow Dash growled.
“Oh my, arm out please Joe,” requested Rarity, “as if measuring for suit, but angled a little down.”
Joe obliged and Rarity reared up to hook her forehooves over this for balance. To her annoyance they were right and this pleasant evening might have to end with the annoyance of an invasion. The musicians had been displaced from the low stage and on it were what looked like three Changelings with one hovering to either side of them, slightly to their rear. As the central one stepped forward it gave a sweeping look of contempt to the shocked party guests.
“Fools,” the Changeling hissed. “You party and you think you are safe from us. You suffocate each other in your smugness, and none of you love anyone as much as you love yourself. Worse still you think us monsters for wanting to feed on your love, but is that any worse than your host Fancy Pants? Without your adoration he is nothing so he pampers you and panders to your every whim so you do not desert him…”
“What a disagreeable creature,” Fancy Pants said quietly, with studied understatement, to those around him as the Changeling continues to rant.
“I take it this is not part of an act,” checked Joe.
“Certainly not.”
“If there are five here,” Joe mused, “then probably more elsewhere, so the Guards might be busy…”
“Makes sense,” agreed Rainbow Dash, looking around and resisting the temptation to try to take off again.
“Why are they here though?” Joe asked.
“I don’t want to over puff myself,” replied Fancy Pants, “but there are some socially important Ponies here, not that they seemed interested in hostages before.”
“Or infiltration and subversion,” Joe agreed, “other than by their Queen.”
“Most disagreeable Mare,” nodded Fancy Pants. “Good thing for Shining Armour he didn’t anticipate the wedding vows in the days leading up to it, or at least I hope he didn’t…”
“If the Ponies here are important,” Joe continued, “then they’d definitely have arranged to keep the Guards busy. I don’t want to be a hero, but…”
“Yes, you do,” said Rainbow Dash, softening the comment with a fond smile.
“Maybe,” Joe admitted, trying to not show how worried that comment made him.
He’d always hoped he’d have that in him, the willingness to act when something needed to be done but the wisdom to know when your actions would only make things worse. But was he motivated as Rainbow Dash suggested? Was he seeing a situation where he could help or was he trying to find an excuse to be a hero like the other three had long since proven themselves?
“If you can deal with this, or help,” said Fancy Pants, “it would be appreciated.”
Joe nodded and tried to dismiss his doubts at this confirmation that acting might be the right thing to do. “Arm, please, Rarity.”
“Oh, of course,” Rarity smiled, unhooking herself.
Looking around Joe regretted not having his trusty sheath knife but had an idea. “Apologies for this.”
“I wondered what that unsightly bulge was!” Rarity commented as Joe pulled the penknife he had brought on a whim from his boot. “But apology accepted…”
Giving her a glance Joe unfolded the small but razor keen blade and slashed some guy ropes and fabric to free a tent awning pole with a decorative point at top end and the functional ‘into the ground’ point at the other, feeling glad that quarterstaff was one of the demonstrations he had done at the castle.
“And by me as well,” smiled Fancy Pants, knowing who Joe had meant the apology for and knowing that Rarity also knew that.
“If you can distract them Fancy Pants…” Joe said, starting to explain.
The dignified Pony nodded as Joe explained and then, with a sigh at realising he should have done that first, stabbed the tent pole into the ground to free his arms to remove his jacket. Meanwhile Rarity recovered her bag from Joe had put it down when he started drinking and unfolded it to full size again to once more accommodate the extra portions of Rainbow Dash’s dress. As lovely as it looked it would be a shame for it to be damaged and Rainbow Dash had just shown how much it hampered her wings when the extra layer of longer skirt was in place.
==
The Changeling tried to not glance around nervously as he began to run out of words. Their target was Fancy Pants and they were running out of time to achieve their aims. This had taken too much trouble and effort to waste but the longer he spoke the more dangerous things became.
“So where is he now?” the Changeling continued to rant. “He cowers or has fled and left you to face us alone…”
“Actually I am right here,” Fancy Pants contradicted it, looking them up and down through his monocle. “Dreadful choice of outfits, naked with insect wings is not ‘in’ this season.”
Despite the situation there was a ripple of nervous laughter that made the Changeling hiss before it could continue. “You will pay for that insolence, but first you will watch these Ponies suffer.”
“My dear creature,” Fancy Pants scoffed, “whatever makes you think these Ponies are going to be the ones that suffer?”
“You cannot stop us…” the Changeling began to threaten, deciding to risk a few more exchanges.
Then there was a blur of rainbow colours and one of the two hovering Changelings was smashed out of the sky, the thud of hooves on flesh echoed by the thud of the Changeling hitting the ground.
“I can’t, no,” agreed Fancy Pants, stepping back now his part was done.
Rainbow Dash pulled up and around into a tight turn and continued to turn and tighten it to circle around the stage at high speed and begin creating her rainbow tornado. Ponies began staggering back away from this towards relative safety but the other flying Changeling managed to remain in the air and get enough in the way, like Pinkie Pie’s cymbals had done when this was tried against the Parasprites, that Rainbow Dash had to pull out of her turn and climb away. The leftmost of the Changelings on the stage regained its feet and magic started to glow around its horn as it looked towards the ascending Pegasus…
“Hawk-kaaaaaaa!” Joe cried, wondering even as he brought the tent pole down across the back of the Changeling’s head why he’d said that. He had mentioned a feisty deadly girl with wings to Rainbow Dash, and he did like the scene in the cartoon where she was in trouble until gunfire came from off screen, and that was the battlecry of the squadron that had shot the enemy fighters off her six…
Fancy Pants had distracted the Changelings enough they had not noticed Rainbow Dash circling around in the air, and then the abortive rainbow tornado had held their attention long enough for him and Spike and Rarity to get within reach. Now as the Changeling staggered Joe reversed the motion of the tent pole as if backpaddling and brought the lower end into the side of the Changeling’s head as that came down from the previous impact. There was a slight crunch and also a slight temptation to stab, but instead Joe continued the second motion to bring the pole up above his head into almost a high-guard position. Then he brought it straight down onto the back of the Changeling’s head again, taking a moment to ensure he struck where head met neck and that he’d put all the strength he could into this blow. The Changeling’s forelegs collapsed, its chin smacked into the stage, and it stayed down.
Meanwhile Rainbow Dash was whirling in turns and dips and climbs and finding this an annoyingly, and surprisingly, even match. She was still faster and more manoeuvrable but none of the Changelings she’d fought during the invasion had come anywhere close to this level of skill. A wing dip to bank, a quick backflap of the opposite wing to yaw, and she drove a sandal clad forehoof at the side of the Changeling’s face. Rather than try to turn, as Rainbow Dash had anticipated, to meet the blow with its horn the Changeling shied away and this threw off Rainbow Dash’s next manoeuvre. Deciding her foe was tricky as well as skilled she beat her wings to climb vertically while her body remained horizontal.
Joe hopped off the stage to get some more room and then glanced up and got distracted by the display. It seemed peculiar to him that he had managed to defeat a foe, albeit one already staggered by the beginnings of the rainbow tornado, before Rainbow Dash had. Joe wondered if there was any way in which he could help her, but the speed they were moving even if he’d had his bow, or a gun, or a man-portable S.A.M. launcher there would be a severe risk he’d hit Rainbow Dash instead.
Rarity had not found it as easy to get through the crowd as Joe and that he’d suggested she tried to get around to the side had further delayed her. But that when he commented that Ponies kicked backwards so well attacking their rear probably wasn’t so useful he had looked so sweetly uncertain did suggest that it would be more useful against humans. So Rarity was confident Joe was vulnerable rather than having put himself in an attacking position.
“Behind you!” Rarity called.
Joe turned, confirming Rarity’s suspicion that humans had to fight to their fronts, and saw the Changeling leader rearing to trample him. Joe thrust the tent pole out, holding it horizontally across his body, and meeting the Changeling’s chest and forelegs as it started to come down. Joe grunted with the effort but had managed to lock his arms and legs and the Changeling had not built much momentum. Then Joe heaved to his right, a serious sounding creak coming from the tent pole, and staggered the precariously bipedal Changeling off the stage to sprawl on the lawn on its back and side. Joe continued his turn to stamp the heel of his left boot into the Changeling’s gut just behind its ribcage. Against a small enough foe that could rupture something vital but as the breath came from the Changeling’s lungs it did appear only badly winded.
The last Changeling on its hooves, that had been the rightmost, had also hopped down from the stage and had backed off a little to give itself room to accelerate into a charge at Joe. It had also had the wit to move far enough out from the front of the stage that its leader would not be in the way. With the stage at his back and the coughing Changeling leader to his left Joe did not have much room to dodge and although he was reacting this was going to be close and he had no armour to protect him. With a roll of her eyes at this continued incompetence Rarity concentrated and a blue glow appeared around her horn and one of the Changeling’s rear legs.
Its stride thrown off and it slowed by this by the time it reached Joe he’d managed to brace himself again, once more holding the tent pole horizontally across his chest but this time thrusting it out in front of him to meet the top of the Changeling’s muzzle with the length between his hands. This was more to fend off the incoming horn than an attack and Joe found his arms were barely long enough as the pole slide up the muzzle and into the base of the horn. He felt cloth tear over the right side of his ribs and was glad he had the extra layer of the densely woven cloth of the waistcoat on top of his shirt. Joe had intended himself to be staggered back a little, though not towards the tripping hazard of the Changeling leader, rather than try to absorb the full force of the charge. But even with this as the pole met the base of the Changeling’s horn it snapped and the impact on the muzzle was enough to stun the Changeling.
The mane styling that Rarity had tried so hard to get Rainbow Dash to preserve had long since given up the struggle against her slipstream as she pushed herself into even more speed and even tighter turns, neither of which was the Changeling able to match. Pretending a mistake Rainbow Dash side-slipped a little so the Changeling had an apparent chance to strike her in the side. Then as the Changeling was about to drive a forehoof into her ribs from slightly behind her Rainbow Dash slowed and twisted and drove one of her rear hooves into the side of the Changeling’s head, dazing it and sending it in an uncontrolled turn in that direction. Rainbow Dash continued her turn to come around and exploit this.
Joe was down on his right knee after having to hop over one hind leg of the Changeling leader. At the last moment this Changeling’s attempt to breathe had caused that leg to twitch upwards and catch Joe’s heel enough to make the landing awkward. Glancing at the stunned Changeling Joe decided the leader was sufficient barricade to look around and see what else was happening.
To his annoyance he saw that the Changeling that Rainbow Dash had knocked from flying above to sprawling over the rear edge of the stage had managed to take off, though it was still slow and wobbly. It looked as if Rainbow Dash was distracted enough by wanting to finish her other opponent that she hadn’t noticed this, or she thought she had time to deal with one before the other, but it also looked as if the wobbly Changeling was still far enough clear that perhaps Joe could help.
Despite the impact and the awkward hopping he had managed to keep hold of both halves of the tent pole, though he would likely have dropped one rather than try to use them one-up one-down or turn the one in his right hand around one handed and try to at least have them both point-up. Now he did drop the one in his right hand, which had the functional point on it, as although point-down was the right way around for the throwing grip he wanted he was holding it too far back along what was now its shaft. Joe twisted his right wrist so the back of his hand faced him and brought it across to grab the other half of the pole mid way down it.
Bringing his right arm back again and to slightly behind him with the section of tent pole held like a short spear Joe then stood and uncoiled, adding the thrust of his thigh muscle as he came up from his knee to the power of his arm, shoulder, back, and waist. The ‘spear’ left his hand just as Rainbow Dash caught up with her prey and drove a forehoof down into the base of that Changeling’s skull. Half a tent pole with a decorative point on the end was not well balanced but it flew true enough to thunk into the wobbly Changeling’s side and make it fall a moment after the other.
“Good throw,” Rainbow Dash grinned.
“Good moves,” nodded Joe, not quite able to smile back. On a practical level this half tent pole was a small flimsy spear compared with his ‘proper’ one. On an emotional level that had been rather a nauseating sound as the other half struck home, knowing it was flesh it was entering seemed to make a difference even if the sounds were relatively similar. And on a practical level again it seemed a good idea to pick up the other half of the tent pole.
The stunned Changeling had noticed Rarity in the widening clear space around the stage and whether it was befuddled enough to be charging at the first thing it saw or retained enough cleverness to realise it couldn’t charge at Joe while he still had the Changeling leader on the ground between them the result was the same. With a slightly weaving gait it began to charge at her but before it could build much speed there was a flash of purple as Spike pounced onto the back of its neck, near its shoulders. His rear claws dug in for purchase and he leaned forward against that and buried his front claws in either side of the Changeling’s neck. It shrieked and bucked and tossed its head and Spike’s claws tore free as he was flung away.
“Spike!” Rarity cried, unlike the Changeling only almost shrieking.
It had been a bloody distraction, more blood flowing from the intentional wounds on the Changeling’s neck as well as from where Spike had ‘stood’, but it had given her time to turn and position herself. Rarity waited an instant for the right moment and then, with near perfect timing, curled in on herself to straighten and smash both rear hooves into the side of the Changeling’s jaw. There was a distinct crunch that Rarity was kind hearted enough to hope was that jaw rather than the Changeling’s neck, but she was less concerned by that than she was about Spike.
“That was for Spike!” Rarity informed the Changeling as it crumpled. Glancing around for the small Dragon she noticed Joe’s chest. “And for Joe’s outfit!”
“I’m okay!” called Spike from where he was hovering in some magic.
“Glad to be of assistance,” an Old Unicorn Mare said, slowly lowering Spike to the ground and giving the fallen Changelings a look of utter disdain that matched her age and old fashioned style of clothing. After so many years as part of the Canterlot Nobility it took more than these whippersnappers to make her forget her dignity and retreat.
The apparent leader of the Changelings had managed to roll himself onto his front while Joe was circling around in case Rarity had needed help. He rose onto his hooves and coughed a few times. “You… idiots,” he managed to force out before coughing again, “you don’t understand…”
Joe had turned as he heard the movement and nearly matched the Old Unicorn Mare, who reminded him of the image of a Dowager Duchess, in the disdain he bestowed with his expression and words. “Is this where you tell us your victory is certain?” he asked. “Or assure us that though you few might fall your numbers are legion?”
“You…” the Changeling Leader began. Then he looked at the fallen and abandoned words. “Ahhhhhh!”
As the Changeling lunged towards Joe he stepped to one side and brought his arm with the other half of the tent pole back. This was too flimsy to use as a club but although it was short it would be long enough a spear for him to stab into the Changeling’s neck as it passed or into its face if it turned. Though that second option would require some luck as its horn was almost as long as the ‘spear’ and from the way the other Changeling’s horn had cut cloth seemed to be sharper. But as they moved magic crackled from the sky and for a moment Joe though his mockery had been misplaced.
Then he realised the glow that was, somehow, darkness rather than light was holding the Changeling fixed in position as well as him. Joe felt his feet leave the ground and that he was being floated away from the Changeling. There was a brief pause after his boots made contact with the grass again and then the magic released him to finish his aborted movement. Joe regained his balance and looked around and then up, his eyes widening as he saw an Alicorn with grey fur and the colours and stars of the night billowing in her mane and tail looking down at him from where she was hovering.
Every Pony there was prostrating themselves in what looked a rather worshipful manner. Joe was not sure whether this was because they were quadrupeds, so dropping their front ends like that made sense, or because this was the Goddess of the Moon. Either way it seemed he needed to do more than simply bow while on his feet to Princess Luna, so he dropped to his right knee and bent his back to bow his head, rest his left elbow on his left knee, and wait in the sudden silence her arrival had caused.