//------------------------------//
// Chapter 11: Heart of a Hero (Part 2) 
// Story: The Hero of Oaton 
// by thatguyvex 
//------------------------------//


Heart of a Hero: Part 2


Trixie felt panic rising in the rattling cage of her insides like a highly irate swarm of parasprites. With a deep, shuddering breath she took hold of herself. Panic wouldn’t serve here. She had to think quickly, clearly, identify the issues and figure out how to resolve them. Bushel was unconscious and there was no telling how much worse her condition would become. Trixie felt a gut stabbing sensation of guilt just looking at the young, yellow filly wrapped up in her star speckled violet cape. Trixie was supposed to be the one to protect her, to save Bushel and her town... but Trixie was the one who’d needed saving.

Bushel, Trixie thought as she stroked the filly’s forehead, looking at the glowing magical energy in the shape of a horn that sprouted from between the folds of the young pony’s blue mane, You saved my life, yet you still think I’m the hero here? I won’t let you down, whatever I have to do.

As to what that was going to entail, Trixie wasn't sure. Looking back at Cheerilee and Tarnished she could see that Tarnished was still crying into the other mare’s shoulder. Cheerilee kept a tight embrace on her friend, and for a moment her green eyes opened and met Trixie’s gaze. Cheerilee gave Trixie a tiny shake of her head, as if to say that it was a bad idea to come over or ask any questions.

Trixie didn’t need any convincing, though she was far from trusting that Tarnished wasn't still a possible threat. Trixie may have cast the mind shielding spell onto the unstable mare, but all that’d do is keep the influence of the entity in the forest from being able to worm its way into Tarnished’s mind as easily as before. The mind shield was far from a guarantee of Tarnished’s continued stability, if she was really anything that could be called stable right now.

Then there was the more immediate issue of the dam. That massive snapping sound of wood could only have meant that the dam was failing, and Trixie couldn't guess how much time they had before the entire thing came apart. Her own questionable swimming skills aside, Trixie didn't want to think about what kind of damage the dam breaking would cause.

“What do we do Trixie?” asked Raindrops, the pegasus looking towards the dark silhouette of the dam, where washing of water from the river was splashing over in gradually growing waves, “Our plan didn’t cover up to this point.”

Thoughts swirled in Trixie’s head and though they were like buzzing bees in her head she wrangled them into some semblance of order before the panic fully set in. First things first!

“Raindrops, take Bushel and head for Oaton.”

“But if the dam breaks Oaton will be right in the water’s path!”

“I know! That’s why we need to warn them, and we can’t just leave Bushel here.”

Raindrops stood on all fours, gently using her mouth to move Bushel onto her back, “Okay, fine, but what about you and Cheerilee?”

Trixie looked towards the lumber camp, where the faint orange glow of fire could still be seen despite the heavy rain, “I’m going to find Count Shiny and Sawdust. Between all of us working together maybe we can... I don’t know... fix the dam? I don’t know! If we could just stop this storm!”

Her mind thought back to the mention of the purification spell in Sawdust’s journal. If she could get those notes she’d know where the rest of the spell was inside Canterlot University, but how could she get there and back to Oaton fast enough? She thought of Twilight Sparkle and the way that mare used teleportation spells with the casual ease others used levitation. If Trixie could teleport with the same skill, she could be back here with that purification spell in a matter of minutes! She could just get Luna, and bring some alicorn power and expertise to bear on this whole mess! But wishing for that was a waste of time. Trixie hadn’t even begun to crack the secrets of teleportation magic; though she made a mental note to redouble her efforts on that front in the future.

“Tarnished?”

Trixie looked over at Cheerilee’s confused voice to see that Tarnished had slowly pushed her hooves away from Cheerilee to keep the magenta mare back and staggered to all fours to walk over to Trixie. Trixie tensed, readying to defend herself, but Tranished’s eyes were haunted, looking at Trixie, then at Bushel on Raindrops’ back with an anguished twist of her features.

“I...I think I can help?” she said, a desperate, shaking voice.

“Help!?” Raindrops exclaimed, eyes wide, one of them twitching, “You just tried to kill all of us!”

Tarnished flinched back from the pegasus, though a wash of a anger crossed her features as well. That anger was quickly replaced by guilt, and Tarnished began to turn away with a single, defeated nod. Trixie held out a hoof, “Raindrops, let’s hear her out. We’re low on options.”

“You can’t seriously be planning to trust her!?” Raindrops said, looking at Trixie askance.

Trixie wanted to laugh, but seeing Bushel in that condition drained the thought right out of her, “Trust? I’m not a trusting pony, I’m just desperate. Happens to be a good substitute for trust.”

Cheerilee had trotted to Tarnished, putting a hoof on her friend and turning the other mare around, concern creasing her normally smiling visage into one of tightness as she looked Tarnished in the eyes.

“What were you thinking of Tarn?”

Tarnished looked hesitant, eyes darting between all of them. Trixie saw the other mare look at Bushel’s unconscious form, however, and saw Tarnished take a deep breath,, “I did just try to hurt all of you. I don’t have any excuses. I still feel so angry at you Cherilee, at everything! It feels like its burning my head from the inside out and I can’t make it go away! It’s so hard just to think straight! I’m going to fight it, though. I think I can now. I don’t know for how long, but... Please, I’m not asking to be forgiven, but let me try to... to make up for what I’ve done.”

The last was said while still staring at Bushel. Trixie could only imagine what Tarnished was thinking, but Trixie had some familiarity with guilt, and Tarnished was looking like a mare who was now all too aware of the mistakes she’d just made. Trixie was also familiar with the need to make up for those mistakes, and while Trixie was leagues away from being able to actually trust Tarnished, she was willing to give the mare a chance to show she was genuine about wanting to help.

Trixie decided she’d be watching her closely though, just in case.

“I know many the animals in the forest, and along the river,” Tarnished said, “I’ve made friends with most of them. Whatever got into my head, I don’t think it affects animals as bad as ponies. If... if you can trust me, I’ll go get as many as I can to help keep the river from flooding. Oh, I can stop the Fire Drakes too! Before they hurt anypony else!”

“That is something you w-w-won’t have to do, s-sister,” said Count Shiny as he and a retinue of his House Guard emerged from the curtain of rain, “You-you’re pets have been subdued.”

The Count looked little better than his sister did, his mane signed short on the left side of his face which was marked by a few small burns. He was covered in lighter cuts and bruises, one of his hindlegs sporting a purple and swollen bruise that caused him to limp as he walked, yet he managed to move with confidence. Tarnished looked at her brother with a guilty and fearful downcast to her eyes.

The six guards with him were in similar states of injury, yet there was a tense readiness about them, especially from the rust colored unicorn mare, Cut n’ Dry. She looked ready to personally wrestle the basilisk to the ground. The basilisk for its part was looming near Tarnished, giving the scene the casual look of a predator that was supremely assured of its superiority. Cut n’ Dry gave the basilisk a wary look, then her eyes fell on Raindrops and Trixie cocked her head slightly at seeing the rust colored mare’s eyes flash with concern, quickly covered a moment later. What was that about? Raindrops was visibly injured and battered, but why would Cut n’ Dry care about that? Trixie put it out of her mind and focused on the Count.

“Count Shiny!” Trixie began, “The dam, we heard it start to break, we have to-”

“I am already well aware of the dam’s condition, Representative Lulamoon,” Count Shiny said, teeth gritting as he suppressed his stutter, “That is why I’m here, to secure my sister and get her out of here before this entire area floods!”

Trixie was taken aback by that, eyes widening, “You’re just going to abandon Oaton!?”

“I’m not going anywhere with you brother,” Tarnished said, shakily, backing away, and Cheerilee came up between them.

“Shiny, you can’t seriously be planning to just flee while Oaton is destroyed?”

Count Shiny looked as shocked as Trixie felt, his lips sputtering as he tried to get something out past his broken composure. Cut n’ Dry frowned and said, “My lord has no intention of abandoning Oaton, but he wants to ensure lady Tarnished’s safety first. Two of my fellow unicorn guard are trying to shore up the dam with ice spells, but their magic won’t last! It’s only going to buy us time.”

“Y-yes,” said Count Shiny, giving Trixie and Cheerilee an mortified look, “I sent one r-r-runner to warn Oaton, to suggest they evacuate, but he has not returned yet. The Lumber Guild is g-gathering tools to t-try to repair the dam an-an-and further barricade the river. A-as long as this storm continues, however, it-it-it-it’s only a matter of time...”

“The Lumber Guild is helping?” Trixie repeated, surprised. She’d have thought Sawdust would have taken the opportunity to get away. Then she frowned at her own thinking. Of course Sawdust wouldn’t run. However much of a manipulative liar he was, Trixie had to remember he was, at least in his own mind, doing all this for his own sister and her foals. Sawdust didn’t want to see Oaton destroyed any more than anypony else here did.

As if thinking about him was a summons, Sawdust arrived upon the scene, breathing heavily, and followed by a dozen of his own lumber ponies carrying various axes or saws. Trixie bristled upon seeing Sawdust, but it did spare her the trouble of having to track him down. He took in the scene with a quick glance, eyes lingering for a moment on Tarnished, though she didn’t seem to notice. She was too busy practically trying to hide from her brother’s line of sight behind Cheerilee.

“Ah, I see you succeeded in pacifying the situation, Miss Trixie,” Sawdust said, looking calm and collected. He turned to Tarnished, voice turning soft, “Tarnished, are you alright?”

Tarnished looked away from him, and Cheerilee glared at Sawdust, but Tarnished answered quickly, “I don’t know. Sawdust, you tried to warn me about the cave, but I didn’t listen, and...” Tarnished morosely looked towards Raindrops and Sawdust calmly followed her gaze, staying relaxed until his eyes spotted Bushel on Raindrop’s back and his calm mask slipped, eyes widening.

“What is she doing here!?”

Trixie didn’t miss then note of panic in Sawdust’s voice, and neither did anypony else. Count Shiny gave Bushel a surprised look as if he was just noticing the small filly for the first time as well, “A good question, w-who is she and why is she in s-su-such a state?”

Tarnished made a soft sobbing sound and started saying before Trixie could answer herself, “S-she got... got hurt by me! Lightning... I didn’t mean for it to happen...”

As far as Trixie recalled the whole lightning thing was pretty intentional on Tarnished’s part, but was willing to set that aside because playing the blame game was low on the priority list at the moment. Not like there wasn’t plenty of blame to go around at this point anyway. Sawdust was looking less than fully collected and his lumber ponies were giving him odd looks as he approached Bushel, ignoring Raindrops glare.

“Her Inverted Horn has come into its full growth,” he said, a sad note joining the wavering panic, “Tell me, was she directly exposed to a large burst of magic?”

Trixie frowned, nodding, “The lightning she saved me from was more magic than natural. Her horn sucked it all in. You knew about her?”

“Since the incident last year,” he said, eyeing Tarnished, “You forgot, didn’t you Tarnished?”

Tarnished wavered, shrinking back, “I...” she gave Bushel a look, paused, eyes gradually gaining recognition, “She...she was the one we found a year ago, isn’t she? The one who wandered across my cave.”

“What is the meaning of this!?” Count Shiny shouted suddenly, “T-T-Tarnished? How do-do you know Sawdust!?”

“They’ve been in contact since the time the Lumber Guild was here a year ago,” said Trixie flatly, “Just about everything that happened back then was mostly Sawdust’s plan. However, this is the first I’m hearing of Bushel having anything to do with that.”

While Count Shiny absorbed that Sawdust reached out a hoof to touched Bushel’s form. Raindrops let him but the look on her face said she was sorely tempted, by both the anger she naturally felt and the intense pull towards violence of the negatively charged storm above, to introduce his jaw to this colon in a most forceful and messy manner.

“She wandered into the forest last year, and found Tarnished’s cave. I happened to be visiting Tanrished at the time,” Sawdust said, turning to give Tarnished a look that the mare in turned looked away from, “I had little option but to use a ritual I’d learned to alter her memory-”

“On a filly!?” Cheerilee exclaimed, taking a threatening step towards Sawdust, “Do you have any idea what kind of side effects that manner of magic can have!?”

“Well, yes. I took precautionary measures to keep the spell as unobtrusive as possible. How do you know about memory spells? Hardly common knowledge for a schoolteacher, no?” Sawdust asked, looking surprised.

Cheerilee’s eyes narrowed dangerously as she continued to advance on Sawdust, “I’ve had some experience with such magic before. Experience enough to know its not magic to use on anypony, let alone a filly with a still developing mind!”

Trixie nodded, giving Sawdust a cutting look, “Its illegal magic for a reason. How do you even know it? Those spells are not exactly the kind of thing you’d learn at university.”

Several of the Lumber Guild ponies had interposed themselves between Cheerilee and Sawdust, though many others just looked confused and were muttering amongst themselves.

“Its not important where I learned the ritual,” Sawdust said, meeting Trixie and Cheerilee’s angry looks,  “I have contacts in less scrupulous circles of magic, and let’s leave it at that. The fact that I’m confessing to using memory spells at all should tell you how serious this matter is. Bushel needs to be treated, as soon as possible. Using the memory altering ritual last year, I discovered her condition, because her horn partially ate the spell. She still remembered bits of what occurred in the forest, but more importantly, feeding it magic caused the Inverted Horn to start wanting to consume more.”

“But with no magic to eat, it started to feed on... on Bushel instead,” said Cheerilee, and the schoolteacher’s fury only increased. She pushed right past the Lumber Guild ponies in her way and was right in Sawdust’s face, ”Of all the irresponsible and callous acts! I should smack you into the next schoolyear for doing that to a filly!”

“You’re feelings are... justified,” said Sawdust, meeting Cheerilee’s look while waving off his fellow Lumber Guild ponies with one hoof, “At this point I do not expect to escape punishment for my actions. Damage control is my priority now; my niece at the top of the list. Last year Bushel went into a feverish comma as her horn tried to feed itself by taking magic straight from her own life force when no other magic was available to eat. That is until Trixie fed Bushel her own magic to pacify the horn.”

Trixie blinked, “I did? Wait, that’s right, Sheaf said I cast a spell on her back then. How did I know to do that? I was completely drunk off my tail!”

Sawdust looked at her with a small, barely noticeable twitch to the corner of one eye, “Yes, quite drunk,” he shivered, “Quite drunk. However, not so drunk that you were beyond suggestion. I knew of Bushel’s condition, and that it could be be treated, even if temporarily, by directly feeding her horn magic. Before you had your confrontation with my father, I let slip to you that there was a sick filly in Oaton and that she might be helped by having magic poured over her. Which is exactly what you did. Her horn consumed that magic, and it was enough to pacify the horn’s needs, sort of put it back into a dormant state.”

He looked at Bushel, and at the glowing translucent horn on her head, “Unfortunately that is not an option now.”

“Why not?” asked Raindrops, voice heated, “We have to do something for her!”

“The problem is different,” Sawdust explained, “Her horn isn’t starving, its overcharged. Instead of feeding off her its in a dangerously close state to simply exploding from having too much magic ingested. Worse, if it was magic from the storm then its filled with the dark energy from the shrine. That energy has to be purged out of her. If not...”

He left the sentence unfinished but everypony present knew what the grave look on his face meant. Tarnished looked at the ground, her whole form trembling, eyes unfocused. Cheerilee was as stoney faced as Trixie had ever seen her, save for the schooltecher’s eyes, which were emerald pools of fire directed solely at Sawdust. Raindrops looked like she could chew a boulder in half for how tightly her teeth were gritted in a half snarl. Count Shiny looked like a pony that had the proverbial sword hanging over his head and didn’t know how to get out of the way. Most the rest, the Copper Coin guards and Lumber Guild ponies, all bore looks of confusion, worry, and agitation. Tension sparked between all of them, and Trixie realized that if they didn’t get focused on something positive the effects of the storm might push these ponies over the edge before long. 

“That spell,” Trixie said, “Sawdust, you researched a spell to deal with the darkness in the shrine, right?”

Sawdust nodded, eyeing her warily,  “A purification spell, yes.”

“Would it also remove the dark magic from Bushel’s horn?”

Sawdust cast his eyes upwards, pondering, though he didn’t take long to think it over, “I believe it would, but she would have to be at the epicenter of the spell, which could prove dangerous considering the spell would also need to be cast at the shrine itself.”

“What shrine? S-Sawdust, explain yourself! W-what is going on!? What ha-ha-have you gotten my sister involved in!?” Count Shiny was shaking in fury, and Trixie could tell his mood was bleeding into his guards. Cut n’ Dry had her magic wreathed around the hilt of her sword, and the other guards were tensing up, all of them readying weapons with dark looks in their eyes.

“Count Shiny Copper Coin,” Trixie said, urgency in her voice, “It would take too long to bring you up to speed on everything. There is a cave in the forest, containing a shrine of some sort, which holds the remnant of some ancient evil. It’s the cause of the storm above us, which if you’re feeling particularly cranky, its partly to blame. Makes everypony more prone to anger. Including your sister, who was living on top of the thing.”

Count Shiny’s eyes boggled and he cast a nervous look up at the storm. Forks of green and violet lightning split across the dense layers of black cloud swirling above. Nopony could mistake this for a natural storm by this point.  

“You knew a-a-about this Sawdust!? And you let my s-sister get infected with... with, this!?” he waved a hoof frantically at the sky, eyes wide, “I-I am p-pl-placing you under arrest for-for e-endangering the l-lives of everypony here with r-reckless negligence!”

Sawdust sighed, raising a hoof to forestall his lumber ponies, who had started to step forward with anger in their eyes, readying saws and axes, while the Copper Coin guards started to draw swords. He gave them a hard look and shook his head before turning to Count Shiny, “Arrest me as you will, but you have bigger responsibilities than punishing me. If the dam breaks, you lose everything... and if she,” he nodded at Bushel, “does not recover, then I lose the reason I started all this to begin with.”

Count Shiny looked as if he could be chewing through iron bars for as hard as his jawline was set as he said, “S-so be it. What do w-we do then?” he sounded like he was spitting nails, just agreeing with Sawdust.

Trixie brought out the spell-linking wand she’d taken from the ice wall earlier, “Count Shiny, I return this to you. Can your unicorns create a strong enough ice wall together to maintain the dam?”

Count Shiny frowned, then looked to Cut n’ Dry. The guardsmare took the wand back in her telekinetic aura, giving Trixie a bit of a stink eye but saying “Not for very long. Wands like this, they allow stronger spells to be cast through linking a unicorn’s magic with another’s, but it all but doubles the strain on our horns to do so. We’d exhaust ourselves to the point of over channeling in no time, trying to do a second ice wall of that size.”

Trixie frowned, then looked at Sawdust, “Last year, when I and the Fire Drake’s destroy the previous time, you and mayor Sheaf were able to-”

He cut her off before she could finish, shaking his head, “The barrier spell Sheaf and I created was enough to redirect the water that time only because it was just the dam itself collapsing. This storm is causing the entire river to overflow. The storm is what we have to stop, Trixie. Everything else is just buying time towards that end.”

“Then get your ponies on it,” Raindrops snapped, “All this talking is wasting time! You two,” she jabbed a hoof at Sawdust, then at Count Shiny, “Stop arguing and get your ponies working together to barricade the river! Me, Trixie, and Cheerilee will deal with the storm.”

Sawdust cocked his head, “Ignoring for the present how you three will do that, there’s the problem of I don’t think we have enough ponies between myself and the Count to be able to stop the river. We’d need dozens more sets of hooves to have much of a chance.”

“Then you have them!”

Everypony turned their heads to the south. Coming through the murky rain was a cluster of dozens of ponies, drenched to the bone but walking with determined gaits. Trixie soon recognized the faces of Oaton ponies, and at the head of the group was Sheaf himself, his wife Picturesque at his side. There was a slight stirring among the Oaton ponies, seeing the basilisk standing amid the cluster of Copper Coin family guards, Hoofington Lumber Guild ponies, and the three Elements of Harmony, but Sheaf didn’t even break stride as he came up to the unusual gathering. Picturesque come up as well, and Trixie didn’t miss the look she gave Sawdust; one of both guilt, and hope. Of course that look vanished the second she saw Bushel and gasped.

“Bushel!”

Raindrops was quick to bring the foal over to her parents, and Trixie and Cheerilee both joined her as Picturesque gathered up her filly, immediately checking her over. Sheaf gave Trixie a sidelong glance in the meantime, saying “Don’t waste time on the details, just tell me if you can help my daughter like you did before.”

Trixie hesitated, but then nodded firmly, “I’ll help her whatever it takes, but it won’t be as simple as before. Sawdust knows of a spell that can help, but getting it won’t be easy, and we have other problems besides.”

Sheaf blew out a huff of steamy air from his nostrils, “Then we deal with the problems. That’s why we’re here!”

A round of loud cries of agreement went up from the Oaton ponies, though this just seemed to make the Copper Coin guards and Lumber Guild ponies tense as Sheaf approached Sawdust and Count Shiny. Trixie took a quick look around, seeing Raindrops staying close to Picturesque and Bushel, and Cheerilee quietly talking with Tarnished while Tarnished herself was looking nervously at the Oaton ponies. In the distance Trixie heard the groaning of wood from the dam, but also saw the telltale glow of magic amid the darkness. The unicorns there just needed to hold on a little longer. Hopefully Oaton’s ponies showing up meant help was here.

Trixie joined Sheaf just in time to hear him address the other two leaders.

“Sawdust, shut up and listen. You too Count,” Sheaf said in a stony tone, “Picturesque came clean to me. She told me everything, Sawdust. Right now I don’t care about your schemes, we’ll sort that out later. Same to you Count, I don’t give a single bit about your reasons for doing what you did. Your runner got word to us about the dam, meaning right now ponies lives and homes are in danger, so me and my folk are here to help. Had to browbeat half of them into agreeing, and we all can feel this storm ain’t natural, but we’re here. So let’s skip the drama and fix this sun-cursed dam already!”

Sawdust and Count Shiny exchanged looks. There was apprehension in their eyes, a lack of trust. Trixie couldn’t let that lack of trust undo the only chance they had of getting through this, stepping between them and catching both their looks.

“If Oaton’s ponies can offer help when all either of you have done is cause them grief, then the two of you can work together with them! Your ponies don’t have to become fast friends, but cooperation has to start with someopony taking the other pony’s hoof when its offered!”

Silence stretched for a few seconds, but finally Count Shiny said, bowing his head to Sheaf, “We’ll t-take your help, mayor Sheaf.”

Sawdust nodded in agreement, turning to one of his ponies, “Flapjack, get everypony to the dam, organize the teams to include the Oaton ponies. Make sure everypony knows to work in full cooperation with them!”

The red lumber stallion nodded quickly and ran off, and soon Sheaf had sent most of the Oaton ponies along to go assist in repairing the dam and barricading the river. Count Shiny sent his guards away to assist as well except for Cut n’ Dry, who insisted to remain at his side. That left the leaders and the Element bearers in the lumber yard with a tense basilisk, a nervous Tarnished, and Picturesque still holding an unconscious Bushel close.

“Sheaf I-” Sawust began but was silenced by the larger stallion shooting him a glare.

“No. No excuses. Not while my daughter is in this state and my home about to be washed away. Tell me what can be done. Nothing more. Not a single word more, or I swear by Luna’s moon in the heavens I will give into what I’m feeling right now and knock your block off so hard you’ll get to kiss the sun before you come back down to Equestria!”

Sawdust cleared his throat, gulped, and levitated out his journal from underneath his bowler cap, floating it over to Trixie, “My journal has the details of half a spell to counter the cause of the storm and save Bushel. The other half of the spell is in Canterlot. We must take Bushel to the forest, where there is a shrine in a cave that is the source of the current problem. Somehow a way must be found to get the other half of the spell from Canterlot while we both confront the darkness in the shrine and keep the river from overflowing and wiping Oaton out.”

Trixie held the journal close to try to keep it dry despite the rain and said, “The only thing I can think of to get the rest of this spell is to send a pegasus. Count Shiny, can any of your guards volunteer?”

The Count shook his head, “The only pegasus in my employ has run afoul of a cockatrice’s stare.”

Cut n’ Dry titled her head questioningly and pointed a hoof at Raindrops, “But, what about her? Surely a pegasus as athletically built yet femininely lithe as her could make the journey,” the guardsmare seemed to realize that she was staring at Raindrops, who was in turn giving Cut n’ Dry a weird look, and looked away, “Just, pointing out that she is a pegasus.”

Raindrops looked at her wings, frowning, “I could try, but Canterlot isn’t a short flight away, and speed isn’t my strong point as a flyer.”

“Ponyville is closer,” said Cheerilee, “We could get the others, with the Elements of Harmony.”

Trixie was quick to respond, “The thought crossed my mind, but there’s a few problems with that notion. One; Lyra and Carrot Top would have to get her on hoof, which would take even longer than Raindrops flying to Canterlot. Two; we have no idea if we can activate the Elements at will. Last time they activated against Corona on their own. They might activate against this thing, or they might not. We wouldn’t know until it was too late to change our minds. Third; we don’t know if the Elements of Harmony would also fix Bushel as well as defeating the darkness in the shrine. Finally, fourth; I want Raindrops to contact Princess Luna. With the Princess, Raindrops can be teleported right back here, and if the purification spell fails, Luna might be able to finish what we couldn’t.”

Trixie didn’t like planning for failure, as that suggested she lacked confidence she’d succeed, but this situation called for it. In spades. 

Raindrops didn’t look convinced, “I still don’t like this. It means I won’t be there while you’re walking into danger. Plus, slow. Even a fast pegasus would take,” Raindrops frowned, crunching numbers in her head, “We’re talking at least two hours, one way, and that’s if I was going Rainbow Dash speeds. My pace, it’d be twice that. Easy. It’d be morning by the time I even got to the palace!”

“I know, but I’m not seeing any other options. We need the other half of that spell! You might not be fast, but you’re faster than our next fastest option, which is walking,” Trixie said, voice rising slightly as her anxiety piqued, all too aware every second counted. 

Raindrops looked at her wings, and Trixie could see doubt playing across the mare’s features. Trixie took a step forward, intending to give some encouraging words, but before she could Cut n’ Dry spoke up.

“I can help.”

At everypony turning to look at the rust coated guardsmare, she visibly stiffened, agitation playing over her stance as she looked at Raindrops, “It’s... its my special talent, you see. I’ve always liked the sky... and... okay its not important how I got it but my cutie mark...”

In lieu of saying it she levitated up her guard’s uniform enough to display the mark on her flank. It was a pair of white wings spreading from a puffy cloud. Cut n’ Dry quickly covered the mark up again, a rosy tint on her muzzle.

“Flight. I love flying. Wouldn't be able to, either, if not for my lord Count Shiny giving me access to his family’s library; where I learned a flight spell.”

Trixie made a small ‘hmm’ sound. She’d heard of flight spells. From what she understood, they were difficult to perform and maintain. The sky was the domain of the pegasi, and getting into it any other way was no simple process. While it wasn’t unheard of that earth ponies or unicorns would become enamored with the idea of flight, Trixie didn’t see how this helped.

“Okay, so you can cast a flight spell. You wouldn’t be much faster than Raindrops, though, and I doubt you’d have the energy to maintain the spell all the way to Canterlot.”

“You’re right,” Cut n’ Dry said, though her tone suggested she rather detested admitting Trixie was right about anything, “However I can cast the spell on other ponies. Including lady Raindrops.”

Lady Raindrops? Trixie quirked an eyebrow, “Would that... work?”

Cut n’ Dry nodded firmly, “I have done it once or twice before for pegasi among the Count’s guards. My flight spell, when placed upon a pegasus, grants them an extra set of wings. More maneuverability, and flight endurance, and most importantly in this case, speed. It will make her a faster flyer.”

“Then let’s not waste any time!” growled Sheaf, “Cast your spell, and let’s be on about saving my daughter and my town!” 

In short order Cut n’ Dry approached Raindrops, both mares seeming a little nervous at the proximity. Trixie didn’t know what that was about, but plans were in motion, so no time to think about it. Soon Raindrops was wrapped up in a cocoon of iridescent white and blue magical energy. Cut n’ Dry looked strained, but not as much as Trixie would've thought, casting a spell like that. Special talents did much such a difference in spellcasting ability with certain spells. In moments, after a flash of light, Raindrops found herself floating in the air not only being held aloft by her own wings, but by an additional pair of gossamer wings spaced behind them. The wings had a prismatic coloring, and were translucent, and shaped much like the wings of an actual pegasus.

“Hey,” Raindrops sounded surprised, “This actually feels natural!”

“The spell does that,” Cut n’ Dry said, panting a little, but smiling, an expression Trixie thought looked distinctly out f place on the guardsmare, “I’ve pushed as much of my magic as I dare into extending the spell. It should last about fours hours. Enough to get you to Canterlot.”

Raindrops nodded, expression hardening into one of determination, “Thank you for this. I owe you.”

Cut n’ Dry coughed, waving a hoof, “Its nothing. Go, the clock is ticking on that spell.”

“Right,” Raindrops fixed Trixie and Cheerilee with a serious look, “I’ll be as fast as I can. Both of you, don’t do anything crazy until I get back! I mean it!”

“So, its okay for us to do something crazy when you get back?” asked Cheerilee with a small smile, trying to bring a little humor to an otherwise desperate situation. 

Raindrops just shook her head, “Trying to be serious here, Cheerilee, but... yeah, just be careful. All of you.”

“Same to you,” said Trixie, looking at the storm above worriedly. Raindrops took note of Trixie’s worry and put on a confident, if faint, grin.

“Strong flyer, remember?” Raindrops turned and narrowed her eyes at the sky, “This storm isn’t going to stop me!”

“Here,” Sawdust said, carefully removing pages from his journal and floating them up to Raindrops, “These pages have the notes I put down on where the spell is located. It’s in a researcher’s document compilation in Canterlot University’s archives, the section on ancient Equestrian civilization.”

Raindrops held the pages in her mouth for a moment, until Cut n’ Dry floated over to her a small pouch to tuck the pages into that Raindrops secured to one of her legs. Then, giving her friends one last nod, Raindrops flapped her wings, both natural and magical, in a powerful double buzz and rocketed up into the sky. Cut n’ Dry hadn’t been exaggerating, the extra pair of wings was doing wonders for Raindrops’ speed. It took less than half a minute for Raindrops to vanish into the darkness, and Trixie could hope for her friend’s safe, and fast, journey. 

She turned her attention to Bushel, and Picturesque. The older mare looked at Trixie, a whirlpool of emotions swirling on her face. Trixie felt taken aback by that look. Picturesque didn’t look as if she could decide whether to hate herself, or erupt in anger, and when she spoke it was in a disturbingly quiet tone, “Miss Trixie, tell me, how did my daughter’s condition get this bad?”

Trixie kept from glancing at Tarnished, who had lowered her head so far her muzzle was practically buried in the mud. Tarnished looked utterly miserable, and Cheerilee was back at her side, a hoof comforting on the other mare’s withers. Trixie opened her mouth to answer but Sheaf cut her off, looking at his wife.

“We can learn the details after this is done, Pic,” Sheaf said as he gave Tarnished a suspicious, narrowed eyed look, “We’ll sort out responsibility, and punishments, when, and only when, everypony is safe. Trixie, Sawdust, let’s have a look at this spell.”

Sawdust nodded, his horn glowing as he cast a shield spell that covered them in a then blanket of energy that kept the rain off the group. He then floated out his journal and levitated it over so it floated between him, Trixie, and Sheaf. Cut n’ Dry, though looking tired from casting her flight spell, joined them to examine the spell that Sawdust displayed. Trixie had seen these notes already, but had not really had a chance to examine them closely. She didn’t understand magic very well in written form, however.

Sheaf, looking at the geometric patterns, scribbled notations, and arcane markings spread across several pages, said “You had to translate this into modern Equestrian, didn’t you?”

“Yes, this spell was conceived by ponies from thousands of years ago, so the syntax of their arcane writings differ from ours. However the spell translated well into contemporary methods, and I’ve applied several modern theories to enhance its potential effects,” said Sawdust.

“I don’t understand,” said Cut n’ Dry, frowning “You said this is half a spell, but it looks like a complete ritual to me.”

Trixie was quick to jump on this one, familiar with the concept as she was, being an illusionist, “That’s because its a compound spell. Illusions utilize the concept often. You know how illusions can affect multiple senses, sight being the most common? Well, a illusion can have added effects, like sound, taste, even texture, but at its core it's still the same spell. That’s a compound spell. This ritual here is the initial effect, and can be cast and maintained on its own, but it is only meant to be half of a whole. Sawdust, what does this first half actually do?”

“Its a barrier of sorts,” said Sawdust, “My specialty is abjuration, after all. The barrier is special, however, in that it draws in a certain kind of energy, specifically negative energy, then contains it in a concentrated spot for as long as the ponies casting it can hold the spell.”

“Ponies?” asked Sheaf. 

“Yes, this spell ritual requires at least three unicorns to maintain the barrier,” Sawdust said solemnly, giving Sheaf a sidelong look, then at Tarnished, who was standing outside the conversation. Trixie blinked in sudden realization.

“That’s what you were planning to do!” she blurted, “You intended to use the spell against this thing in the shrine with Sheaf and Tarnished’s help from the start!”

Sawdust bobbed his head in a nod, “I rather botched that aspect of my plan. I thought that I had time, that Tarnished would resist the influence of the shrine, and that Picturesque would convince you to my way of thinking, Sheaf, if only with a little more time. Then together we could purge the darkness, and then see Oaton built into something glorious... heh, I suppose I shall settle for dealing with the shrine.”

Sheaf closed his eyes, sighing, “Why didn’t you just come to me about this to begin with? Why the deception? Why any of it, Sawdust!?”

“If I had would you have been cooperative? I know you, Sheaf. You could teach granite how to be properly stubborn. You’d never have agreed to my plans for Oaton, not if I’d just come out to you with my plans, old friend.”

Sheaf spat, grunting, “Don’t call me friend. I just want to save my daughter and town. We have enough unicorns to do this spell, right?”

“Well,” Trixie said, “There’s myself. You, mayor Sheaf, and then Sawdust, Tarnished, and Cut n’ Dry. That’s five unicorns, so I’d say we’re set.”

Sawdust gave her a flat stare, “After all you’ve done this night, you feel you have enough magic to maintain a ritual like like this? For the hours it will take for your friend to return with the second half?”

Trixie gulped. Her horn was feeling the strain. Between the fight with Tarnished and using the spell to communicate with the basilisk she felt as if she’d nearly run herself dry. However, Trixie felt she had to be there for this. As a Representative of the Night Court, as the bearer of the Element of Magic, and as the mare who’d made a promise to a certain filly to see this through until Oaton was saved. No, regardless of how tired Trixie felt, or how difficult this final spell would be, she intended to be there. 

“I can handle it. The question is, who will the other two unicorns be?”

Cut n’ Dry took a step forward, but Count Shiny held up a hoof, holding her back.

“My lord?” the rust coated unicorn asked, frowning.

“You’ll be needed to work with the others on the dam, Cut n’ Dry,” Count Shiny said, “You are more familiar with the ice wall spell. Dealing with this shrine...thing, will be pointless if we lose Oaton anyway. You are remaining here.”

Sheaf moved over to Trixie’s side, giving her a firm-eyed look, “My daughter has to be at the center of the spell. There is no way in Tartarus I’m not going to be there for her. I’m going.”

Tarnished stepped forward as well, starting to say “I should do something as well-”

Trixie and Cheerilee both said “No,” at practically the same instant, but Cheerilee was the one to quickly explain in a comforting tone, rubbing Tarnished’s withers.

“Tarn, nopony can ask you to go back in there and face that thing in its lair.”

“But I should be one of the unicorns in there!” said Tarnished, gaining some of the fire back in her eyes that had been buried under pain and guilt, “Everything that’s gone wrong is my fault! I have to do my part to set things right!”

“You will, Tarn,” said Cheerilee, “Remember me and you have to go find some of those animal friends of yours to help with the dam. That will be enough. You don’t have to do more than that, Tarn. Least of all putting yourself at risk of this dark force getting into your head again.”

“You and I...” Tarnished said, softly. Cheerilee blinked.

“Huh?”

Tarnished didn’t really smile, it was just a small, barely glimpsed will-o-wisp of a smile, but Tarnished looked at Cheerilee and said, “You and I. Not ‘me and you’. Aren't you supposed to be a teacher?”

Cheerilee blinked again, then laughed, hugging her friend to her chest.

Sawdust, looking uncomfortable with the scene, twitched one of his ears, but he quickly gained a calm look, “In any case, I think we've spent enough time planning. I shall be the third unicorn. I should have enough magical energy to fill in the role, and you, Sheaf, should be pretty fresh. We can make up for the strain that’d otherwise be put on Miss Trixie.”

“I’m going too,” said Picturesque suddenly, fiercely, as she held her daughter close, “If Bushel must be there, I’m not leaving her. That won’t disrupt the spell will it?”

Sawdust shook his head, “No, you can hold your daughter the entire time, if you so wish. But do understand the more minds the shrine has to affect, the greater the chances it will influence one of us enough to disrupt the ritual. I’ll have to shield all of our minds. Right now the storm’s influence merely makes us more prone to anger, but at the heart of the shrine, where the ritual must be done... its influence will be much stronger. We must all be prepared for that.”

There was a moment of silence as all the ponies present looked at one another, apprehension and tension filling the space between them. Trixie was the first to take in a deep breath, step forward, and put her hoof out in the middle of the group, “We can’t be separated in this!”

She looked at each of them in turn, “Together, we’re going to save Oaton, Bushel, and everypony else here! This thing is going to try to divide us, to prey on the mistrust and anger. Whatever grievances we have, whoever feels wronged by another, put it from your mind! We go in there, we do so with one mind, one purpose, and we don’t let anything break that!”

Sheaf looked at his wife and daughter, Bushel still unconscious and breathing shallowly. He then looked between Count Shiny, Tarnished, and Sawdust with eyes gleaming with anger... but he was the first to take in and let out a deep breath and step forward, putting his hoof over Trixie’s.

“Together,” he said.

Sawdust cocked his head to one side, a wry smile creeping onto his face, “You still have something of a dramatic streak, Miss Trixie, but I can’t argue with your words,” he stepped up and put his hoof onto the pile, “Together it is.”

Count Shiny, for a second, seemed taken aback, perhaps even ashamed he wasn’t the one leading this chain of events, but after a moment he took hold of himself and with a firm nod at Cut n’ Dry both he and the guardsmare put their hooves onto the others.

“I will not mistake where my responsibilities as a noble lay anymore, even if I lose that noble title,” he said firmly, no sign of his stutter to be heard, “Though I and Cut n’ Dry will not be going with you, we will be fighting alongside everypony from Oaton and the Lumber Guild! I swear it on my family name, you will have a home to return to!”

Cut n’ Dry glanced briefly at Trixie, dislike still clear in the rust coated mare’s eyes, but she nodded at her sword lord’s words and put her hoof firmly onto the others.

Cheerilee looked at them, then at Tarnished, and gave the other mare an encouraging nod, gently leading Tarnished over to the group. Tarnished had the look of a mare who was adrift at sea in the middle of a storm, reaching her hoof hesitantly towards the others like it was a lifeline. Settling onto her hoof, suddenly, was Picturesque’s. The two mare’s eyes met for a second, Tarnished’s surprised and guilt filled, Picturesque’s encouraging, and Trixie noted, forgiving. Had Picturesque put together who was responsible for Bushel’s condition? If she had Trixie was glad to see Picturesque was willing to give Tarnished the benefit of the doubt. Cheerilee’s own hoof came to rest atop the pile, completing the group. 

Trixie and Cheerilee shared a smile, then Trixie looked at the assembled ponies. She felt like she ought to say something else here. Wasn’t the hero supposed to have some final, rousing, inspiring thing to say before everypony leaps into the breach? Her showmare’s mind conjured a dozen different grand turns of phrase about facing the darkness, etcetera, but nothing really fit what she was feeling at that moment. Thoughts of heroism were, quite frankly, nowhere in her mind. Her thoughts were consumed with one thing alone; saving the filly that had in turn, saved her.

----------

The forest had been difficult to navigate before when Trixie had chased Tarnished into it, but now, with the raging storm overhead, Trixie was having trouble just seeing in front of her own muzzle. The wind screamed in violent howls through the thickly clustered branches and streams of water pelted the group of ponies marching through the forest relentlessly. It would have been all but impossible to find their way to the cave if not for the rather... sizable guide

“Sawdust,” Trixie heard Sheaf say, “You’re certain we can trust this thing?” 

Trixie winced slightly as the massive basilisk leading the party through the forest turned its head and hissed in a low, menacing way that seemed to suggest Sheaf ought to keep his mouth shut. Sawdust, trotting just ahead of Trixie, looked back at his onetime friend and gave a wry smile.  

“As certain as I can be, considering circumstances,” replied the Lumber Guild leader, putting a hoof on his bowler cap as a particular strong gust of wind nearly blew it off. He paused, as did the rest of the group, as they waited for the basilisk to bat aside a tree that had fallen in their path, “I’ve seen Tarnished play with these creatures like they were large, scale covered kittens. If she says this one will lead us to the cave safely, and convince its mate not to eat us, I am willing to hold confidence in her.”

That got Trixie curious, and she needed something to distract her from the growing sense of impending doom that was pressing in on her with every step they took. Despite the blanket of the mind shield she could feel a building anxiety she was certain wasn’t natural. The whispers she’d heard the last time she was in the forest were back, muffled as if being heard through a door, but remaining an unceasing background noise clawing at the corners of her awareness, and getting louder the deeper in they went. 

“How did you get Tarnished to trust you at all anyway?” Trixie asked Sawdust, “She ran away from her family to get all back to nature in this forest, and you’re a lumber pony. Not exactly any common ground between you.”

Sawdust huffed out what might have been a laugh, “Persistence, mostly. That and we shared at least one thing in common; we both had issues with family. Different issues, true, but the fact remained it was good for both of us to have somepony to talk to about our frustrations. Certainly she wasn’t keen on my profession, but in time I was able to convince her that it was not my intention to destroy the forest or upset the homes of her animal friends. Which is true, whether you believe me or not. I don’t want to destroy this forest. This place would be key to Oaton’s revival.”

Sheaf snorted in disgust, “Oaton’s revival... as if you understand what Oaton needs. As if we’re dying.”

“You are.”

Sheaf let out a soft growl, and Picturesque put a hoof on his shoulder, to which he gave her a sharp look, eyes flashing in anger... though that look faded quickly as they fell on the sight of his daughter. He sighed, taking in deep breaths, before saying, “Not having this argument with you again Sawdust.”

Slowly, almost subtly, he and Picturesque hung back a few extra paces while they continued to trudge through the forest, for a few minutes the only sounds to be heard being the thunder of the storm, the crashing steps of the basilisk, and the barely perceptible wash of incoherent whispers. Trixie licked her now dry lips and pulled up next to Sawdust.

“What do you mean?” she said in a quiet tone, “About Oaton?”

Sawdust kept his eyes forward, “Just what I said; Oaton is dying. Slowly, year by year, generation by generation. Their population has steadily declined over time. Inevitably, if they continue as they are, Oaton will just become a ghost town, what few inhabitants are left little more than hermits, until they too, die off.”

Trixie grimaced, the whispers in her head suddenly gaining a sharp clarity that she could feel pressing against the shield around her consciousness.

He’s lying to make himself sound better, just trying to gain your sympathy! You’re smarter than he is, better than he is. He’s the bad guy here. You shouldn’t be trusting him. The ritual must be a trap! He’s leading you into a-

Trixie shook her head. No! Those were not her thoughts. She took in a calming breath, forcing away the aberrant thoughts trying to push their way into her head. Sawdust was looking at her now with unreadable eyes.

“Why are you so convinced they can’t survive on their own?” Trixie asked, “They’ve done alright from what I’ve seen.”

“Oaton is just too small. Not enough new blood to keep the pool diverse. Each generation there are just a few fewer foals born, hence fewer ponies to work the fields. Gradually they’ve lost farms as families have petered out to single, old individuals are all that remain. This isn’t just my idea, Miss Trixie. The reason Sheaf gets so angry when I bring this up is because he’s the one who first realized that Oaton needed to change. That’s why he left to go to Canterlot and become educated. To save Oaton. But... he failed. He met my sister, fell in love, had a foal with her, and in so doing completely forgot why he left Oaton to begin with, moving back here to raise his family.”

Trixie was no expert, but Sawdust’s words did make a sort of sense, despite there being whispers in her head saying that he was a untrustworthy, sneaky, oily bastard she ought to stab in the throat with her horn before his sudden by inevitable betrayal. She suppressed a shiver. The whispers were getting steadily worse.  

“Its stupid,” she found herself saying under her breath, causing Sawdust to look at her askance. Trixie rubbed her head with a hoof, trying to tune out the whispers, “Just, you and Sheaf. Sorry, can’t think straight, words not good right now. Be better if you, him, Count Shiny, everypony all got together, and decided how to make Oaton better. Now, with all the, you know, massively illegal actions certain ponies, namely you and Count Shiny, have done... Bah! Its just stupid. The ponies most suited to fixing things are going to end up in jail, and the best I can do is... what’s that phrase you use?”

“Damage control,” he provided.

“Yes, that,” Trixie said bitterly, “I want there to be a way for everypony to come out of this for the better.”

“You shouldn’t trouble yourself over it,” Sawdust said with a resigned note, “Myself and Count Shiny have dug our own graves. I will find mine comfortable enough to lay down in if I can do so with some assurance that my family is safe and my employee’s needs looked after. I merely regret that Oaton will never live up to its potential as I and Sheaf dreamed of during those days he, my sister, and I were together.”

The stallion sounded genuinely regretful. Trixie looked back at Sheaf and Picturesque, who were remaining far enough back they couldn’t hear what she and Sawdust were saying over the noise of the storm. She remembered the journal entries she’d read and could almost see the three of these ponies together at Canterlot University, enjoying an evening meal at some cluttered dorm room. The space between them now was painfully obvious, and Trixie had had enough of it. They weren’t even to the cave yet and they were already pulling apart!

“Sawdust, go talk to them,” she said. He gave her a sudden look, his calm eyes opening a little wider, his ears slightly drawing back. 

“I do not think Sheaf wants to talk-”

Trixie cut him off and pointed a hoof back, “Talk to them both! Talk to your friend, and your sister! Talk about the good times! Talk about the bad! Talk about family! Talk about anything! But. Talk. To. Them!”

He blinked at her. In fact they all were, because Trixie had stopped walking, hence bringing the group to a halt. Sawdust gulped visibly and nodded slowly, turning and trotting back to where Picturesque and Sheaf were, leaving Trixie up front with the basilisk. Over the storm Trixie couldn’t hear them, but she saw as Sawdust began to awkwardly begin a conversation. Sheaf looked like he would rather chew rocks than talk, and Picturesque looked guilty and worried... but slowly Trixie saw them all relax. Sheaf’s stony visage gradually softened, if only just. Picturesque’s guilt slowly melted. Sawdust’s awkwardness, step by step, became eagerness.

Soon, the three were sharing a quiet talk, and Trixie heard the occasional laugh from the three. Trixie smiled, shaking her head.

“If they’d only done that to start with...” she muttered under her breath, and she heard the basilisk rumble a soft growl that might have been agreement, or a simple indication that it was getting hungry. She really hoped for the former. 

The cold wind coursing through the forest began to batter then even harder, freezing the ponies through their coats. Trixie was hearing the whispers now almost incessantly, and Trixie employed the most advanced, sophisticated technique she knew to counter them,

“Lalalalalalala, not listening, lalalalalala, can’t hear you!” she repeated, mantra like, while tucking her hat’s brim down over her ears and packing the cloth into her eardrums. 

It didn’t work nearly as well as she would’ve liked. The voices were like slick oil, slipping past conventional means of tuning them out. 

“Why can we hear these voices?” asked Picturesque, shaking her head “Brother, I thought you shielded our minds?”

“I did,” Sawdust replied, tilting his head at the surrounding forest, “Most of this is actual sound being made by the wind, manipulated into this cacophony. The shield’s are just a buffer, sister. They should hold, but the strain will be greater once we reach the shrine... which should be soon, it appears.”

His words were brought on by the basilisk tromping out into the clearing surrounding the hillock that bore the dark cavern mouth. The cave’s entrance was as foreboding as Trixie remembered from the previous night, like a gaping, black wound in the grassy hillock. Trixie suppressed a gulp. Every instinct she had told her she did not want to walk into there! In fact, the moment the ponies entered the clearing a blast of wind assaulted them, almost strong enough to force even the sizeable Sheaf back a step, and Trixie actually did have to stagger back, not just from the force of the wind, but the wall of voices that hit them. The maddening tangle of hundreds of shrill whispers, incomprehensibly speaking of death and doom if another step were taken.

Trixie, despite everything, nearly succumbed to instinct to turn and flee then and there. But one glance at Bushel’s form on Picturesque’s back, the filly letting out a soft moan in her unconscious state, forced away any thought of running. Anger flared, determination solidified, and Trixie straightened her hat, stepping forward.

“Sawdust, what is this thing? You must know something,” said Sheaf, looking at the cave entrance with wide eyes, but a strong stance, as if he was squaring off against a physical foe.

“Less than you’d imagine,” Sawdust replied, shading his eyes with his bowler cap against the slashing rain, “Its old, its feeds off our worst emotions, and it was brought here by Oaton’s founding ancestors.”

Sheaf drew in a sharp breath, “You’re saying this is our fault?”

Sawdust sighed, “No, its the fault of ponies centuries dead, Sheaf. Lucky us, other ponies, also centuries dead, researched the spell we’re about to use to undo the mistake of your forebears.”

“This changes nothing,” Sheaf said, “Oaton’s traditions still stand, even if... they have unfortunate origins.”

“Stubborn,” Sawdust said, lips compressing in a thin frown, “I used to see you as a visionary, Sheaf. Where did that vision of a thriving, progressive Oaton go?.”

“I saw it for the foalish dream it was! I had a family to raise! I had to return to my home!”

“And abandon your convictions to change that home into something better?”

“No, I merely learned, through raising my family, that the home I thought was too stifling, was in fact a honest, safe place for my foals to grow up. It didn’t need to change.”

“Hmph, oh, certainly, if all your foals ever wanted to be were farmers-”

“Sheaf! Brother! Please, both of you stop,” Picturesque said, her own eyes staring into the cave mouth, one hoof reaching back to gently stroke Bushel’s mane, “We can’t argue now.”

The two stallions looked at her, then at each other. They both ceased their arguing, but the silence between them spoke volumes. Trixie heaved out a sigh. She supposed it was too much to hope that a brief talk would be enough to mend fences that’d been broken years ago, but they needed to start somewhere. 

The basilisk had approached the cave and let out a trumpeting call, lowering its head to look inside. Trixie watched as seconds passed, trotting closer. She backpedalled fast as, bursting from the shadows of the cave mouth, the smaller basilisk came charging out, its roar ringing louder than the howls of wind and crashes of thunder from the storm. The male basilisk was frothing at the mouth, its eyes wide and wild, and Trixie found herself unable to turn away before those eyes fixed right on her. She felt her whole body go ridgid as stone started to crawl up her legs.

She felt her hat move on its own, pulling down over her eyes, and noticed the white glow of Sawdust’s magic on her hat. The stallion was using his magic to pull her own hat over her eyes, just like she had in her brief scuffle with him. Breaking her line of sight with the male basilisk stopped the petrification, though Trixie was still too stunned to move. She didn’t have to, however, as she felt a titanic crash that knocked her off her hooves. Pulling her hat off her face she looked to see the larger female basilisks had wrestled her smaller mate to the ground and was holding the male down. The male’s wild look lessened slightly, but it was still slightly struggling in the female’s grasp, its yellow eyes bloodshot.

Sheaf helped Trixie up, eyeing the two huge predatory lizards warily, “What’s wrong with the smaller one? I thought that Tarnished mare said these creatures were resistant to the shrine’s influence or somesuch?”

Trixie gave him a thankful nod and brushed herself off, “Resistant, not immune. Let’s get in there fast. I don’t think we have a lot of time left.”

Not a one of them looked remarkably eager to pass by the clearly enraged and possibly insane basilisk, but at least the larger female seemed to have her mate well in claw. As Trixie and the others trotted by Trixie saw the female basilisk lower its head to her mate’s and start making hissing sounds that were incredibly soft sounding coming from something that could challenge an Ursa Minor for sheer mass. Trixie, despite it seeming just a little crazy, stopped and nodding to the basilisk.

“Thank you for showing us the way, and sorry about your mate’s current mental state. Hopefully what we’re about to do in there will fix all of this.”

The basilisk grumbled a noise that could’ve meant anything, but Trixie choose to take it as encouragement. She, Sheaf, Sawdust, and Picturesque stood at the precipice of the cave entrance, inky blackness stretching out before her. Taking a shuddering breath, Trixie adjusted her hat so her horn was exposed and lit it up, her blue magical light shining into the gloom. Her light was joined by Sawdust’s white, and Sheaf’s yellow, illuminating less than Trixie thought three unicorn light spells should. 

When Trixie took the first step inside, she felt a chill that didn’t have anything to do with the rain. Picturesque actually shivered, flicking her tail so it covered her daughter protectively. Sheaf noticed and stepped closer to her, putting a hoof both over her withers, and their foal. She looked a little surprised for a second, but then leaned in close and nuzzled him. Sheaf returned the gesture after only a moment’s hesitation. Sawdust stood apart from them, looking uncomfortable. Trixie, a few steps into the cave, was shining her horn straight ahead, resisting the urge to looking around too much. She knew if she starting swinging her light around it’d make the shadows around her look like they were moving even more than they already did.

Slowly the others filed in behind her. This front area of the cave had a high enough ceiling that Trixie could easily see how the basilisk’s lair here, though the ceiling hung with thick vines and roots from the hill above. The cave floor was running with water, but fortunately the land sloped towards the entrance, so the cave was in no danger of flooding. The oblong, oval cavern had a relatively smooth floor, and as the ponies went deeper in they become completely enfolded by the dark, the unicorn lights only providing a small pool of visibility to move by.

“Sheaf,” said Picturesque, “This is officially the worst date you’ve ever taken me on.”

Sheaf’s laugh was dry, “Not really the time for humor, Pic.”

“Actually,” said Sawdust, “This may be the best time for it. Any positive emotion will help.”

“If you start trying to tell jokes, Sawdust, any positive emotion I’ve got going towards you is going to instantly vanish,” said Sheaf.

Trixie’s nervousness only increased as she realized that now that they’d entered the cave, the whispers that had been trying to worm their way into her mind during the trek across the forest hadn’t increased, but instead had abruptly vanished. She’d expected them to get worse, being inside the cave. Sawdust had suggested as much would happen. Catching Sawdust’s eye with her own she saw the Lumber Guild leader nod. So he’d noticed it too. 

“What’s all this stuff on the walls?” asked Sheaf, shining his horn towards one of the smooth stone walls of the cave. Trixie approached, adding her light, and gulped. Strange lettering, strings and strings of it, spread over the walls in spidery, web-like patterns. Trixie didn’t recognize the style of writing, but that wasn’t too surprising to her. Her studies with Princess Luna didn’t cover ancient evil writings. Probably wasn’t high on the Princess’ list of important topics to cover. 

“Probably made by the founders of Oaton,” said Sawdust, “Those ponies still worshiped the entity this shrine was meant to venerate. Who knows what kind of rituals they conducted here?”

Sheaf looked like he’d chewed something sour, “Makes my head hurt looking at it. I’m starting to think collapsing this cave would be an excellent idea.”

“Couple of house sized lizards that might take issue with that,” said Trixie as she started trotting towards the back of the cave. 

“Will  Bushel really be safe, brother?” Picturesque asked, looking worriedly at the filly, “She’s getting warmer.”

“Let me see,” Trixie said, coming over and leaning over Bushel. The little yellow filly was breathing in small, shallow breaths, seeming faster than what Trixie had seen earlier. The Inverted Horn was still mostly just an aura of condensed magical energy in horn shape, but Trixie could now see washes of shadow flowing through the magical light, like oil in a clear pool. Trixie gulped, using her magical sight for a moment to examine things more closely. She swore under her breath.

“What is it?” Picturesque’s voice was sharp with fear.

“The writing,” Trixie said past clenched teeth, “Its got negative energy flowing through it, like... like conduits. Motes of it are siphoning off and into Bushel’s horn!”

Sheaf glared at Sawdust, “I thought you said the writing wasn’t important!”

Sawdust’s composed look faltered at Sheaf’s anger,  “I said I didn’t think it was! It could be part of whatever old magic was used here when the shrine was first made. I don’t know for certain. Regardless, our only hope is the ritual. Bushel should  be safe once its completed.”

Trixie frowned, wishing she knew more about Bushel’s condition. There was nothing they could do, however, but press forward. The cavern soon narrowed past the nest, turning from a fairly wide and open area into a constricted tunnel winding down at an angle into the earth. After a moment of stumbling over the uneven floor Trixie looked down and realized with a start that somepony had fashioned, probably via magic, a crude set of stairs into the stone. The cavern gradually turned into a spiral staircase of stone, that mind bending spidery arcane writing flowing along the walls and ceiling in thicker and denser quantities the deeper they went. 

“At what point in time did Tarnished ever think making this place her home was a good idea?” asked Trixie, not expecting an answer, but Sawdust offered one up anyway.

“There was nothing too unusual about this place, at first,” said Sawdust, “No whispers, no darkness, just a simple cave with some odd writing in it. I think that, by the time she would have realized something was amiss, it was already too late. This happened gradually, Miss Trixie, not all at once.”

Sheaf was casting nervous looks all around him, as if he expected the writing on the walls to perhaps spring to life and attack, or the shadows beyond their horn lights to start spawning nightmarish things in their path, “I don’t understand. If there is some kind of spirit in this shrine, why isn’t it trying harder to stop us? Its just letting us walk right into its heart without so much as a little wind and a few voices in our heads as resistance?”

“Two possibilities as I see it,” said Trixie as she saw the stairs come to a stop ahead at a worked archway of stone, where natural cavern stopped completely and took on more the appearance of the interior of a fashioned room, with smooth worked stone and not a hint of natural rock formation in sight, “One; the spirit is blowing so much of its energy on the storm above that it doesn't have anything left to resist us with besides what we’ve already seen-”

She stepped into the gloom of the room, one hoof clopping onto the stone, creating an echo that joined her voice, “-Or two; its been saving its strength until we got here, so it could hit us with everything it has.”

Light from her horn cast the room in a pale blue pool that sent shadows skittering away like roaches. One by one the others entered behind her, adding their light to hers. Trixie noticed the chamber they’d entered was perfectly circular in shape. It was large enough that dozens of ponies could have gathered in it. At the center of the chamber was a cluster of stone pillars, arranged in a perfect circle just like the chamber itself. The six pillars each bore carved holes up and down their length where various objects were placed. Daggers, curved like waves. Animal skulls bedecked with spidery runes like the writing in the cave above. Strange bone fetishes shaped in the likeness of the equine form. Wax coated jars of unidentifiable liquids.

And those were just the times that Trixie could easily discern what they were. 

“Well,” said Trixie, “I can see why you kept calling this place a shrine, Sawdust.”

“It does seem to be the only word to suit,” he replied, pulling out his journal, “Let’s begin. The first thing we need to do is-”

“You’re wasting your time..”

The voice came from across the room, a female voice that Trixie instantly recognized, but hadn’t at all expected to hear. Stepping from around the pillars, all but sauntering with a confident swagger that Trixie knew quite well, because there was a point in time she’d practiced that walk in a mirror on a daily basis, was a mare. A pale blue unicorn mare, with a silver mane, and wearing a distinctive hat and cape.

“The spell couldn’t possibly work with a pony like her being part of your efforts,” said Trixie, or rather, the mare who looked identical to Trixie.

Trixie, the actual Trixie, took a step back, mind boggling for a moment before she managed to compose herself, ”You’re not real. You’re just some figment or illusion conjured by this shrine”

The fake Trixie rolled her eyes, “Figure that all out on your own, did you? Didn’t strain any blood vessels in that tiny, atrophied brain coming up with that unimaginative conclusion?”

Trixie narrowed her eyes, “Not just an illusion, but an irritating one. Great.”

“What are you, exactly?” Sawdust asked, as he slowly walked to the right, circling the false Trixie. The figment, not that Trixie was looking at it closely, was easy to tell apart from her. It’s eyes lacked color. They were just straight black, with no definition. The realization made her coat crawl.

The shadows of the room seemed to creep in on their own pools of light cast by their horns, and the air had become cloyingly humid yet incredibly cold. Trixie could hear the sharp, clawing whispers again. Quiet, as if they were trying to allow the illusion to speak, but so many voices now, trying to scratch their way into her head.

“I was part of a whole, once, that had a name. A feared name, that all ponies bowed to,” said a male voice as a stallion who bore an identical appearance to Sawdust appeared in Sawdust’s path, with the same dead, black eyes in place of Sawdust’s natural colors, “That name no longer matters. The Princesses defeated the whole, and the whole in its defeat broke off parts of itself, scattered them across the land, so that if ever the whole returned, it could gather those pieces of itself it left behind, and regain its power. That is what I am, a left behind piece of a whole. A forgotten whisper.”

Sawdust drew up short of his counterpart, looking the illusion over and after a second waving a hoof at the other Sawdust. The illusionary Sawdust wove apart like a bank of fog but reformed just as quickly.

“These... Whispers, I suppose, are not solid,” Sawdust said, trying, and failing, to not look somewhat disturbed, “Illusions, as Miss Trixie says. I think its using this method because it cannot break into our minds completely with the shields in place.”

The Whisper of Sawdust laughed, cold, mocking, “Or perhaps I’m already in your minds?” it said as it looked at Trixie, “He’s going to betray you, you know. His ambitions don’t know any limits, and you really think he’s just going to let you turn him in to the authorities?”

Picturesque trotted forward, face drawn tight in anger, “My brother isn’t going to turn on us! Not with his niece’s life at stake!”

“Do you actually believe that?” asked another voice, and a Whisper of Picturesque formed from the shadows on the mare’s left, managing to run a smokey hoof over Bushel’s form before Picturesque turned to snarl at the Whisper, backing away.

“Get your hooves off my daughter!”

The Whisper of Picturesque smiled, far too wide for a natural pony’s mouth, reaching from ear to ear, “Oh, I like that. Nothing like a mother’s wrath; the flavor of that anger is just so... rich. Seriously though, do you believe your brother isn’t planning something?”

“I trust him,” said Picturesque firmly, “I’ve always trusted him. He’s... he’s not a bad pony.”

The Whisper laughed, “Oh, and you sound just so convinced of that. Is that why he asked you to lie to your husband? To connive and manipulate your beloved Sheaf into doing what Sawdust wants?”

Trixie saw Picturesque falter and was quick to jump in, “Just tune them out, everypony! This is just a last ditch effort to try and stop us, and its a pathetic and transparent attempt at that.”

The Whisper of Trixie scoffed and came right up to Trixie, smiling sickly sweet, “You’d know all about pathetic attempts, wouldn’t you ‘Great and Powerful’ Trixie? How many mistakes and bumbling screw ups have marked your life so far, hmm? The laughing stock of the Night Court, a joke of a Representative, and a lousy friend, barely able to hold onto the few ponies who can stomach your so-called ‘friendship’..”

Trixie scoffed, then frowned as she realized how closely she’d just mirrored the Whisper, “Really, this is the best ammo you have to use against me? My ego is not that fragile!”

“Oh, really?” Whisper Trixie said, flicking a smokey tail at Trixie’s nose, causing Trixie to shiver at the coldness of the Whisper’s touch. Insubstantial they were, but their touch was shiver inducing,  “I suppose you’d know better than anypony how strong your ego is. So strong it requires you to lie to an innocent little filly to stroke it!”

That got Trixie to wince, though she regrouped quickly, “I didn’t lie to her. I-”

But her Whisper vanished, not giving Trixie a chance to finish her sentence, and reappeared by Picturesque. The Whisper  struck a mockingly ‘heroic’ pose while looking down at the unconscious Bushel, “Don’t fear my little pony, I the Hero of Oaton shall save your family and friends without fail, for I am the Right Hoof of Justice, whose magic knows no equal in all the realm!”	

The Whisper’s tone took on a tiny, squeak mock-version of Bushel’s, “Oh Great and Powerful Trixie, you’re so awesome, certainly you’d never, ever exaggerate who or what you are just to make yourself look better in my eyes! I want to grow up to be just like you so I can lie to ponies about who I am too!”

Trixie felt fury flare up inside her, and she advanced on her Whisper with bared teeth, “I am not rising to this bait. It didn’t happen that way... okay, it didn’t happen exactly that way. It doesn’t matter, I’ve already fessed up to Oaton about everything. You’re not driving doubts into me with this farce.”

“Fessed up to Oaton, but not to this poor little filly,” said the Whisper with a predatory smile, “What will she think of you, I wonder, when she learns of your lies? Will she be forgiving? Will she be devastated? Will she cry, that her idol is nothing more than a fake, straw hero?”

Trixie clenched her teeth together so tight she tasted the slight tang of blood. She knew the Whisper was digging at her weakest points, at all of their weak points. Knowing that  didn’t make it any easier to take. Trixie took a deep breath and met her Whisper’s inky black eyes.

“Whatever she may think, I’ll come clean to her on it all, and accept the consequences. Thing is, straw hero or not, I’m more than enough to deal with a two-bit whisper like you. Compared to Corona, you’re nothing special.” 

The Whisper of Trixie sniffed at that, walking through Picturesque like a phantom.

Picturesque yelped at the cold and rapidly away from Whisper of Trixie, but that only put her closer to her own Whisper. The Whisper of Picturesque seemed to turn into  a haze and appeared next to Sheaf, raising a hoof towards his face but he growled and batted at the hoof. The hoof merely wafted into smoke, reforming a moment later, much to the Whisper’s amusement. 

“Awfully quiet over here aren’t we, Sheaf? Here you are, surrounded by ponies that have done nothing but lie to you, and you think you can place faith in any of them? In a supposed ‘friend’ whose conspired to destroy your home? In a wife that’s lied to your face? In a overblown braggart who came here only to bask in unearned praise?”

On Sheaf’s other side his own Whisper finally appeared, flanking him with the Whisper of Picturesque, and leaning in and saying in a tone hard as the stone the chamber was carved from, “They can’t save your home. You can’t trust any of them. Better to work alone, for Oaton to stand alone, like it always has.”

Sheaf’s eyes were closed, his entire body stock still as he listened to his Whisper’s words. Trixie looked at him worriedly, “Sheaf, don’t listen to this! Its just trying to get us to turn on each other.”

“I don’t have to do much in that regard,” chuckled the Whisper of Sawdust in Trixie’s ear as he appeared next to her, “Mistrust, anger, pain, fear, desperation, greed; I didn’t put any of those feelings inside ponies. They are simply already a part of you. Ponies never change. Bubbly, happy sunshine on the surface, but underneath that you’re all little pressure cookers of wretchedness just waiting for an excuse to boil over.”

Trixie stared hard daggers at the Whisper, even though she knew her anger could only be feeding the thing. She looked to Sheaf, who still held Sawdust’s journal, but remained quiet and still, eyes closed.

“Sheaf, we have to start the ritual,” she said, trying to ignore the derisive laughter of her own Whisper, “The longer we talk with these things the more power we give them.”

“Can you really listen to the words of such an incompetent fraud?” asked the Whisper of Trixie, spinning her own phantom of Trixie’s hat on a hoof, “A stage magician who so far has only given your town empty promises? What has she really done, since coming to Oaton? Spouted a lot of worthless hot air and-”

“My wife,” Sheaf said, suddenly, slowly opening his eyes to stare at the Whisper.

The Whisper cocked it’s head, “What?”

“Trixie Lulamoon returned my wife to me. Turned cold, dead stone, into a living pony once again,” Sheaf strode past the Whispers, trotting right up to Trixie, “I don’t trust Sawdust. I still love my wife, but she’s got a lot of work to do to earn my trust again as well. But you, Trixie Lulamoon, are no fraud, and I’ve already decided to place my hopes for Oaton’s future on you.”

Trixie stared at him for a second, surprised at the honest tone in his voice, then nodded with enthusiasm, “Thank you, Sheaf.”

Sawdust looked at the two with a small smile, then turned to his Whisper, “You’re not nearly as good at this as you seem to think you are,” the Lumber Guild leader told the  Whisper as he joined Trixie and Sheaf near the pedestals of the shrine. The Whispers all scowled as one, turning hazy and all vanishing save for the Whisper of Trixie, which followed Picturesque as the mare trotted up to the group with Bushel.

“W-what should I do with Bushel?” asked Picturesque, “Does she have to be anywhere specific?”

“She’ll need to be inside the ritual circle,” said Sawdust, “Don’t let her go for a single moment, sister.”

“A waste of time,” said the Whisper of Trixie, “The filly is sick, dying, and her Foolish and Incompetent hero can’t do a single thing to fix her. In fact-” 

The Whisper appeared in Trixie’s face again, disdainful eyes an unsettling mirror of Trixie’s own, “-Bushel only got this way because she had to save you, didn’t she?”

Trixie could hear her blood pounding in her ears, her anger rising, mind shield or not. She shoved it aside as best she could, ignoring the Whisper. She did not want to give this thing the satisfaction of a reaction! Even so, her eyes slide towards where Picturesque had laid down between her, Sheaf, and Sawdust. The filly was cradled in her mother’s hooves, Trixie’s cape still wrapped around her. Trixie felt a sharp stab of guilt, remembering how happy and full of energy Bushel had been when Trixie first met her. It was painful to see the filly like this, and knowing it was her fault...

The Whisper glowered, then smiled cruelly, “Do you see yet? At least with all your previous screw ups a foal didn’t suffer for them. No, none of your past mistakes quite have the same repercussions this one does, hmm? Before, the stakes were just your paper-mache ego. Now, its the future of dozens of ponies who could lose their homes, and their lives, if you fail. Including one innocent filly who thinks you're far greater than you know you actually are.”

“Then I won’t fail,” said Trixie past clenched teeth. 

“You won’t fail? Hm, your track record says otherwise.”

“What track record? I’ve been doing pretty well for myself since I came to Ponyville,” Trixie said back while trying to keep her emotions calm, “Maybe you don’t know, having been literally living under a rock, but my friends and I saved all of Equestria! That’s no boast or lie, just fact.”

The Whisper snorted, rolling it’s eyes, “Fact? Ha, the fact is that you failed to actually banish Corona, and because of your weakness the Tyrant Sun still threatens the freedom of every mare, stallion, and foal in the land. Oh, yes, such a great success.” The Whisper shoved a accusatory hoof at Trixie’s nose, “Even in winning, you still manage to screw up!”

“You’re grasping at straws. My friends and I, we beat Corona, earned the right to wield the Elements of Harmony! You’re not poking holes in my resolve this easy. I’m stronger than that,” Trixie said, taking hold of her emotions, pushing down the doubts that the Whisper’s words conjured. Not to mention the anger. Trixie was now quite glad Raindrops had been sent for the second half of the ritual, as Trixie didn’t want to subject her friend to this entity’s tactics. 

“Trixie, remember when you told me not to listen to this thing?” asked Sheaf, “Might want to take your own advice.”

“I know! I know!” said Trixie, “But. She’s. Really. Annoying!”

Sawdust coughed politely, “It has a good template to work off of for that purpose.”

Trixie shot him a look, “Not helping!”

Sheaf had set the journal down between them, pages open to the ritual. Trixie, despite a tremble in her legs that was one part rage and one part fear, focused her attention on the writings. Despite her general lack of ability with figuring spells out via written format the ritual was actually simple enough in design that she could get the gist of it by looking. The three unicorns involved essentially formed the bulwark of a barrier, one that from what Trixie could tell was designed to pull in negative energies and then contain them inside the confines of the barrier. Ritual magic was uncommon in the modern age, if mainly because most rituals took a large number of unicorns to work and took a long amount of time to cast; the kind of thing that just stopped being practical or useful in Equestria’s modern age. Trixie realized it was strange this ritual only required three unicorns, where a circle of seven or thirteen was far more common. 

“I’ll start, the two of you follow my lead,” said Sawdust as his horn glowed with greater intensity. At the same time Sheaf and Trixie both began to pour magic into their own horns. Magical sight was not needed to follow Sawdust’s lead, the ritual created patterns of light that showed where Trixie and Sheaf needed to direct their own magic. Trixie concentrated on pushing tendrils of her magic into the patterns she saw, watching as her blue magic interlaced slowly with Sheaf’s yellow and Sawdust’s white. The magic energy traced along the ground and in the air, forming a circle on the floor consisting of two layers of arcane sigils. The outer layer was a magic funnel, sucking in negative energy. The inner layer was the barrier that would keep that energy trapped at one point. The barrier formed in the air above the center of the arcane circle in the shape of a inverted pyramid, the walls a shifting in colors between the three unicorn’s magic. Trixie hadn’t been able to tell much about the ritual when it was on paper, but now seeing it in action she was able to see how this part of the spell was designed to be maintained, but left hanging threads of magical energy that didn’t seem to serve a purpose. That must be where the second half of the ritual was meant to lock into the first half.

The Whisper of Trixie was snarling as the unicorns cast the ritual, shoving her face right against Trixie’s, thought she lacked substance to touch the real Trixie.

“Ignore me if you will, but you know you’ll fail. You don’t have enough magic to hold this ritual for long...” wisps of shadow were being pulled of the Whisper, like smoke being sucked away by a current of wind, trailing into a space just above the glowing ritual circle. It was distorting the Whisper’s voice as the image started to get pulled into that space, joining a growing cloud of roiling dark gray smoke that was forming.

“You won’t hold onto them... your friends... you’re scared of that, Trixie Lulamoon,” the Whisper was mostly formless gray smoke now, just barely in Trixie’s shape, “You don’t believe in Harmony. That’s the real reason you didn’t... send for the rest of your friends and the Elements... you don’t believe they’d work for you... not for you, who always loses her friends...”

The Whisper’s voice faded away as the hazy smoke that made up its form was pulled into the now swirling cloud that was gathered above the ritual circle. Trixie was sweating cold, trickles of it running down her neck. Even just a few minutes into the ritual, her horn was sending spikes of pain into her head in protest. She really had used up too much magic fighting Tarnished earlier. Did she really have enough to hold this ritual... for hours?

“Stay focused,” said Sheaf, his face a stone mask of concentration, his horn blazing yellow, “Whatever it meant by those words, don’t get distracted by them.”

“I’m not!” said Trixie, wincing, “I’m the picture of focus! Stupid shrine entity thing was talking out its flank anyway! I... I don’t doubt the Elements of Harmony. There just wasn’t any guarantee they’d work here!”

“You had good reasons not to send for them,” said Sawdust, and Trixie felt a little better seeing he was sweating under the strain too. Not much, but a little. Just good to know she wasn’t the only unicorn having difficulty with this, “It looks as if this being is trying to focus its insidious efforts on you, in particular. I think its afraid of you, perhaps can sense you are the linchpin of our efforts. If it breaks you, we will not be far behind.”

“Isn’t talking much now,” Trixie observed with some satisfaction.

“The ritual is pulling the entity, and its energies, into this one spot, and trapping it inside the barrier we’re forming. I doubt it can form any more Whispers,” said Sawdust, but gave them all a cautious look, “It may still be able to try influencing us, however. Be wary, I doubt it is done resisting us.”

And we have hours to wait, holding this ritual, until Raindrops returns, Trixie thought with a sinking feeling in her gut. But as much as she felt the strain on her own horn, she just needed one look at Bushel to know that every bit of pain she was going through was worth it, if they could save her.

Raindrops... hurry.

---------

Tarnished kept looking away every time Cheerilee noticed her staring. Fear lanced through Tarnished, her thoughts a mired jumble she was barely keeping together, right now dominated by; pleasedon’taskpleasedon’taskpleasedon’task.

“Tarn, were you looking at my flank?”

Drat, she asked!

“No!” she said, far too quickly. Cheerilee slowed slightly, dropping back so she was now alongside Tarnished. They’d been galloping along the churning and rapidly flooding banks of the river, towards where Tarnished knew a local colony of beavers lived. They were nearly there, and for most of it Tarnished had avoided conversation with Cheerilee as much as possible. Too afraid and confused to know what to say. Not after what she had done.

But she had, against her own better judgement, snuck numerous glances at Cheerilee. It was just... Tarnished didn’t know what to feel. Cheerilee was right here in front of her! And despite all the horrible things Tarnished had said, and did, Cheerilee was... was just acting like everything was going to be okay! And Tarnished felt like she might actually believe that. It was strange. She just kept wanting to look at Cheerilee and sort through everything, but there wasn’t any time, and the idea of actually having a conversation terrified her.

It was just sort of coincidental Cheerilee had caught Tarnished looking just as Tarnished was taking note of Cheerilee’s cutie mark.

“Its just,” Tarnished said after an awkward silence, “I was thinking about your cutie mark. I never could see how it related to your decision to become a teacher. I always assumed it represented us, the gang, and how you kept us together, happy.”

Cheerilee chuckled; oh Luna’s pure moon how Tarnished had missed that sound! 

“Its a little abstract, isn’t it? The flowers represent ponies, yes, you guys in the gang, but also my students. Their smiles, their laughter, as they grow and learn. My cutie mark is my love for helping anypony grow, I just realized that foals need that kind of guidance the most,” Cheerilee said, the warmth in her voice seeming to push back the very cold of the rain that soaked their coats. The storm had actually ended a mile back, centered completely over the dam and Oaton, and Tarnished could see it as a black solid disc of cloud in the sky. It was at utter odds with the clear, star filled sky outside the storm.

“Its a good cutie mark,” Tarnished said, ears lowering against the side of her head. She blinked, trying to keep herself from crying. Hadn’t she done that enough already? Yet it was beyond hard just to keep any kind of rein on her emotions. She was still caught between wanting to throw herself at Cheerilee and hug her friend just to make sure Cheerilee was real, and that this wasn’t some fever dream... and equally wanting to still strangle the mare to satisfy the anger still clawing at the edges of her mind and heart.

“Cheerilee...” she said at length, “How can you just... just act so normal, like nothing happened!? I tried to hurt you! Kill you, even! You’re friends, I would’ve killed them too! Even my own brother! I still don’t know if I can even trust myself to not... not just lose it again. So how-”

“Stop, Tarn. Don’t tear yourself up anymore, okay?” said Cheerilee, voice firm, but also filled with concern and a warmth that hurt Tarnished as much as it comforted the turmoil in her, “I won’t hear any more of you hurting yourself. Not one more word! When this is over, you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to take you for a night on the town like you’ve never imagined! They’re going to hear us celebrating all the way in Cavallia!  We got years of catching up to do, and I don’t plan on letting you sit out a moment of it!”

Tarnished just stared at Cheerilee, for a moment too stunned to even think straight. Then, slowly, she smiled, laughing like she hadn’t in... Luna, not in years! But she couldn’t help but shake her head, eventually, “Cheerilee... after this, the authorities, the things I’ve done... I don’t think I’ll be able to go much of anywhere. Might have to settle for visiting me at whatever institute I end up in.”

She tried to keep her tone light (Luna’s tears it was hard), to make it sound a little like a joke. She found Cheerilee staring at her with a look of utter seriousness that again, stunned Tarnished.

“Nonsense! You weren’t in your right mind. There are...” Cheerilee hesitated, “There are extenuating circumstances. The Princess will understand!” The schoolteacher then smiled ruefully, “And if she doesn’t, well, I’ll just have to make her understand. With my hoof.”

“I don’t think you’re students would appreciate their teacher getting banished to the sun for decking the Princess of the Night,” Tarnished said, unable to keep from smiling a bit at the thought of the magenta mare punching Equestria’s monarch. Would probably just surprise the immortal alicorn more than actually harm her. “It’ll... it’ll be okay.”

Cheerilee was silent at that, face a mask of thought and Tarnished could imagine her friend was mentally reviewing her knowledge of Equestrian law to look for loopholes to get Tarnished out of jail. Tarnished finally let a small smile on her face, realizing just how much her friend was trying to do what Cheerilee always did; brighten the mood, and hence the lives, of her friends.

“I can accept whatever happens,” Tarnished said, “Because I know, when I get out, however many years it is, you’ll still be there waiting for me. We’ll still be friends.”

Cheerilee made a small sniffing sound, looking away from Tarnished, though she didn’t know why. The rain hid the tears pretty well already.

They continued on in silence for a few minutes after that, Tarnished feeling the turmoil inside her calming, perhaps due to getting some distance from the storm, or simply because of Cheerilee’s presence. Up ahead a small tributary from the forest entered the river just as it started to curve to the northeast, around the border of trees. The tributary was marked by the thicket of logs and branches of a natural beaver dam, one of several Tarnished knew existed along this tributary.

“I hope they’re home,” Tarnished said, approaching the logs, casting wary look at the banks of the larger river, “The flooding may have scared them off.”

She cleared her throat and then made a series of rough chattering sounds that most ponies would strain their voice trying to duplicate, but to Tarnished just came naturally. It wasn’t really necessary to actually use the beaver’s own sounds, they animals more or less understood her no matter if she spoke Equestrian, but if they were scared of the storm then she wanted to ease them out of hiding with familiar sounds. Her communication spell wouldn’t work unless she had line of sight to cast it, though once cast the line of sight could be broken and the spell remain functioning, but in this case it wouldn’t be needed. 

The beavers, about a dozen of them, gradually poked their heads out of various hiding spots, the largest among them tromping up to Tarnished and waving its little paws in the air as it made a bunch of chattering noises at her. Animals’ didn’t really speak with words all that much, but implied meaning through a combination of smell, body language, and inflection of natural noises. The beaver was asking her what was going on and why she was here. The family of beaver’s knew her of course, she’d been this way on walks plenty of times. The beavers more or less trusted her, though they were a more surly bunch than many of the other animals in this area.

Tarnished knelt down, taking a calm breath to steady herself. Animals could sense emotion, and she didn’t want the beavers upset by her own troubled state. She made a number of chattering noises back at the beaver, waving her hoof in her own set of gestures, to which the beaver responded with an even more exaggerated wave of its arms and a shake of its head.

Cheerilee, standing back a few paces to give Tarnished space, said, “He looks kind of angry.”

Tarnished frowned, “She, actually. She doesn’t want to risk her own to help with the dam. River is too dangerous to swim, she says. I can’t really argue that point, it will be dangerous.”

Cheerilee looked downriver, worry etched on her face, towards the storm and where Tarnished could imagine the ponies of Oaton, the Lumber Guild, and her own brother and his Houseguard  would be struggling to keep the beleaguered dam from shattering and drowning them all. Tarnished took a steadying breath, and spoke again with the beaver. She didn’t know if it would ever be possible to patch things with her brother, but as much as she felt estranged from him, she didn’t want Shiny to die.

She pleaded with the beavers, and while the leader looked about ready to refuse her again, it was stopped by several others that had come up out of hiding in the bushes. Tarnished recognized ones she’d helped treat for illness or injury many times over the long months she’d lived here. It became clear very soon that, despite the leader’s honest worries for their safety, most of the beavers remembered Tarnished fondly, and were willing to help her for this first and only time she’d ever asked them for help.

Tarnished felt relief flood through her, and as she rose, she felt a hoof pat her on the back and she looked over at Cheerilee’s smiling face.

“From that sigh of relief I’m going to guess they’ll help.”

Tarnished nodded, “Yes. I wish I didn’t have to ask them to do this for me, though. It’s not why I made friends with them, just to ask things in return.”

“Of course not,” said Cheerilee, “But there’s nothing wrong with asking for help when its needed. In times of trouble, friends will be there...” she trailed off, green eyes downcast.

Tarnished looked at Cheerilee’s crestfallen face and couldn’t imagine how she ever could have doubted this mare. How she ever could have allowed herself to become so... so twisted up inside with anger at Cheerilee. 

I’m such an idiot. I’ve never known a pony who cared more about her friends, and I somehow thought she’d abandoned me? She never once stopped caring. I was the one who abandoned her, by hiding myself away and spending years just... just blaming her...

Gulping back a sob, Tarnished wrapped hooves around Cheerilee, pulling her close, “You were there, Cheerilee. I was just too blind to see that you never really left.”

“Hah, I can’t believe I forgot,” Cherilee said.

“Huh?”

“You’re cutie mark. Its a wreath of ivy,” Cheerilee said, laughing, and crying at the same time, “I remember you got it when we went to the Griffin Kingdoms.”

Tarnished blinked, looking back at her flank where a circle of interwove green ivy strands was depicted, “When I stopped the duel Rainbowshine got herself stuck in. That’s the day when I realized I never wanted to ever let anything happen to my friends, my real family, and keep us all together.”

“Like ivy; an age old symbol of friendship and strong bonds,” Cheerilee said, wiping her face and looking towards the south, towards Oaton. The storm was still there, but to Cheerilee’s eyes it seemed to be contracting, pulling back at the edges and concentrating at a focal point over the forest. If Cheerilee squinted her eyes she imagined she could see a funnel of black cloud swirling downward into the treeline.

“They must be doing that ritual as we speak. Time to do our part too. Let’s back to the dam.”

----------

Count Shiny was out of his element. He was a noble of the Night Court, and been raised to lead, but really most of his training had involved leadership of a somewhat... detached variety. Stamping legislation and political maneuvering, knowing what provisions might help his province and how to negotiate with other nobles over tea. 

There had been little training to prepare him for the confusion, chaos, and sudden decision making of directing somewhere around a hundred and fifty ponies in a desperate bid to keep a flooding dam from breaking apart in front of them. While a massive, magical storm raged above, naturally increasing the aggressive tendencies of anypony underneath it.

He’d been spending most of his time rushing from one end of the dam to the other, trying to keep ponies from three different groups from bickering and fighting, and keeping them focused on the task at hoof. Amazingly, the threat of the imminent destruction to hearth and home, not to mention their lives, gave him quite a bit of ammunition to use in diffusing arguments.

“Lock n’ Key, you and miss Fresh Sap get your teams over to the west side and help those digging there get the new logs in place,” he said, rain blinding him momentarily as he wiped at his face, getting his tangled mane out of his eyes.

The young Housegard and almost as young Lumber Guild mare nodded to him, running off with their small teams of ponies. Shiny was standing atop the dam itself, honestly the only place he could get the best look at everything, despite the danger of sloshing water almost sweeping him off the top. Other ponies worked to bring freshly cut plans of wood up to reinforce breaking struts on the top of the dam, while most the rest were digging a wall of dirt and supporting logs around the areas where the ice wall failed to reach.

The ice wall itself was being sustained by the truly alicornian efforts of Cut n’ Dry and the remaining unicorn mages of the Copper Coin Houseguard. The spell-linking wands would be draining them at a ludicrous rate, pushing their arcane endurance to the limits, yet the unicorns doggedly held on, maintaining the large shelf of thick ice that was at this point the only reason the battered dam had remained intact, and why the banks of the river still hadn't flooded them yet. 

Shiny’s heart groaned every time he saw Cut n’ Dry down there, her own white light flickering in the darkness. How much longer could she last? If she overchanneled... it’d be his fault, for ordering her to do this, despite the dangers.

I could just order my ponies out of here, they’d be safe. I owe Oaton and the Lumber Guild nothing. If the water sweeps them all away... no witnesses to tell of what happened...

Shiny nearly vomited as his stomach turned at his own thoughts. Those couldn’t be his own thoughts could they? It had to be the storm’s negative energies affecting him, right? He shook his head fiercely and pushed the horrible thoughts away. He did owe Oaton. It was a village on his family’s land! These ponies were his responsibility! He was a noble of the Night Court, and these were his little ponies to care for! To have forgotten that, even for his sister’s sake... it filled him with revulsion. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Trixie Lulamoon, a bumbling Representative and nothing more, had shown more nobility than Shiny had. 

If he survived this he’d either thank the mare, or choke her. He wasn’t sure which yet.

“Lock n’ Key, Mister Bronze Bell, we’ve got a leak right up here!” he yelled, pointing a hoof at one of the nearby sections of dam, at the top, which had burst and was letting out a stream of water over the top of the ice wall, “I’ll hold it, but we need more planks up here to seal it!”

There were no other ponies nearby, so Shiny himself had to rush over and shove his hooves into the gap, trying to stem the flow of water while Lock n’ Key, so similar in appearance to his elder sister Cut n’ Dry, rushed up alongside an older stallion from Oaton, a bronze coated fellow with a blonde mane and bell for a cutie mark. They carried wood planks and tools between them.

“My lord, get back, we can handle this!” said Lock n’ Key.

“Do not concern yourself with me,” he said to the young Housegaurd, “Just, well, do hurry and hoof over those planks if you will!”

“You nobles always this dang stubborn?” asked Bronze Bell as he knelt down over the side of the dam with Lock n’ Key and started giving the planks to Shiny, “Though never figured I’d see one of you types getting his own hooves dirty in the thick of things.”

Count Shiny didn’t respond, just concentrating on getting the planks in place for Lock n’ Key and Bronze Bell to hammer them into place over the sprung leak. After a harrowing minute that felt closer to an hour the leak was sealed and Count Shiny rose, wiping his brow of sweat and rain both.

“Well, this is-” Count Shiny began to say, when a massive surge of water over the lip of the dam swept the walkway he was on, and he felt his hooves fly out from under him. He felt his head smack into something solid, probably the very walkway he was just on, and lights flooded his vision. Unable to respond, he felt his body twist in momentary free-fall before being enveloped on all sights by freezing, wet blackness.

He instinctively opened his mouth to scream, but that just flooded water into his lungs. Sputtering, legs flailing, he just panicked in the inky darkness. Thoughts of Cheerilee and Tarnished both flooded his mind, and he struggled to try and swim, despite having no idea which way was up, and the horrible burning pain of water in his lungs as he tried to keep from breathing in any more.

He felt things start to fade, his limbs going numb...

Then warm hooves were on his body, pulling, tugging. Another set around his neck. In seconds he felt his head break the surface and he sputtered, hacked, still trying to breath.

“C-calm down dagnabbit! Quit kicking!” said a high pitched female voice.

“My lord, do like the lady says and stop flailing, before you hit something I’d prefer you didn’t,” said a voice that sounded suspiciously like Bootheel’s.

Despite every instinct he had to the contrary, Shiny forced himself to relax as he was dragged through surging, black water. He could barely make out the sight of a mare with what might have been a white coat, but it was hard to tell under the circumstances. On the other side of him was Bootheel, the stallion waving with one hoof at the dam.

“Little help here!”

“Hold on,” said a voice from the dam, “Potato Sack, get the rope!”

“Tossing rope!” cried another voice.

Shiny heard something splash into the water a few meters to his right. 

“Potato, throw the rope to them!”

“Trying, can’t see worth spit in this rain!”

“Stop playing around you daft horses!” screamed the white mare, her voice, if anything, getting even higher in pitch,  “Life or death situation here! Just aim at the sound of my voice!”

“Yeah, yer extremely irate, shrill voice. Is this why your parents named you Piper?”

“Potato, I will shove that rope straight where Luna’s light don’t shine if you don’t get us out of the water right bucking now!”

Bootheel made a ‘hmm’ sound and Shiny couldn't fathom why the stallion was looking over at the white coated mare with such calm consideration, given they were struggling to stay afloat in a raging water reservoir. Soon enough the rope was tossed back out, this time the white mare, Piper, catching it in her teeth. Within minutes they were hauled onto the dam by a pair of Oaton stallions who from the looks of their similar dark coats may have well been brothers.

Coughing out water from his burning lungs, Shiny just lay there, clinging on to the edge of the dam fiercely, while above him Bootheel wrung his mane and tail out and grinned over at the white mare, who in turn was shaking her sopping black mane.

“So... Piper, right?” asked Bootheel with a lick fo his lips and a undisguised look at the Oaton mare’s flanks, “You free next Tuesday?”

The mare gave him a flat look, then snorted and hauled Count Shiny to his hooves, looking the noble over, “You alright there, uh, your nobleship?”

Shiny nodded belatedly, still trying to cough water out of his lungs, “I shall be. I... thank you.”

“Ain’t nothing. You're doing a right fine enough job bossing us about, figured it’d be shame to watch you drown. After all, Night Court might replace you with somepony worse,” she glanced over him and Shiny suddenly felt a stab of heat in his cheeks as she checked out his flanks, “Certainly worse looking anyway. C’mon your nobleship hoity toity Countishness, let’s get back to saving our town!”

Count Shiny just blinked and followed the mare, leaving behind a dumbfounded Bootheel.	

----------

It was a quiet night at the Royal Palace of Canterlot. Clear skies allowed the brilliance of Luna’s night to shine down on the two Night Guard that flanked the first set of gates leading into the palace grounds. One and older veteran, the other a fresh recruit just out of training, the pair of guards were polar opposites in behavior. The experienced Night Guard was alert, but calm, casually enjoying the fresh night breeze and grandeur of the diamond dust artistry in the stars. The recruit wasn’t paying the night sky any mind and instead was tensely looking all around, hyper alert for danger to the point of distraction.

“Recruit, if you stay that tightly wound you’re going to go gray in your mane before I do,” said the veteran. 

“Yes sir, Starhelm, sir!” said the recruit, and promptly resumed skittishly glaring at every shadow in sight. Starhelm sighed. The kid would just have to learn on his own then. While there was some reason to be more wary, with the possible threat of the Tyrant Sun looming over all of Equestria, Starhelm had discovered it did little good to be overzealous in one’s duty. Tended to just give one a sour stomach, an aching head, and premature wrinkles. 

Besides, what could possibly happen on such a peaceful, quiet nigh-

Something slammed into the cobble street before the palace gates with enough force to send stone chips flying into the air. Starhelm shielded his eyes with one wing while the recruit yelped in surprise.

“Stars above!” he grunted, pulling aside his wing and peering at what had landed before them.

A pegasus mare, her jasmine coat slick with sweat, a teal mane ragged and plastered to her face, was standing in the street, her hooves having cracked the cobbles from the impact of her sudden, rough landing. She was breathing hard, as if she’d just flown a marathon, and Starhelm blinked in surprise as he saw she not only had a pair of natural wings, but a glowing incandescent pair of wings behind her natural ones that he could only imagine had been conjured by magic. 

“M...made...it...” the mare said, taking a shaking step forward. The recruit lowered his spear.

“H-halt! Declare yourself and your intent!”

The mare raised her head, still sucking in and out lungfuls of air. Her eyes held an intensity as she looked right at the recruit, and the Night Guard took a hesitant step back from the force of that gaze.

“Princess... Luna...” the mare blinked, shook her head, and appeared to collect herself, “Need to see Princess Luna. Its an emergency.”

“Ha, as if we’d just let anypony see the Princess! Perhaps you’re an assassin sent by the Tyrant Sun!” the recruit said, pointing his spear at the mare’s face. The mare ignored the spear, instead blowing out a snort that all but steamed with her clear aggravation.

“I don’t have time for this. Ponies lives are at stake! You have to let me see the Princess!”

“Miss,” Starhelm stepped forward, past the recruit’s spear, and gave the mare a calm look, “If there is an emergency of some sort, you must at least give us some idea of what it is and who you are. Don’t need the whole story, just the basics. Please, due process, it’ll make things faster in the long run.”

He could see the tension flowing through every inch of this pegasus mare, but he didn’t think she was lying. Starhelm couldn’t quite put his hoof on it, but she had this earnest look to her. Perhaps it was those eyes. She had honest eyes. He didn’t think this was a trick by some minion of Corona. 

“My name is Raindrops. I’m a weather pony from Ponyville. Some of my friends and I were dealing with a problem in a village called Oaton, and its gotten completely out of hoof! There’s an evil spirit there, causing a storm that’s going to flood a dam and destroy the town. There’s a spell to stop it, but part of it is in the University here in Canterlot. I need to find that spell, but I also need to tell the Princess what’s happening. She can help me find the spell and get me back to Oaton fast. Oh, and my friends and I are the bearers of the Elements of Harmony, so I’d really appreciate it if you’d skip the interrogation and take me to the bucking Princess!”

“How dare you speak of the Princess with such vulgar terms!” said the recruit, but Starhelm kept a calmer state, taking in Raindrops words. Looking at her again he realized she did match the description of one of the Element Bearers. All of the Night Guard had been given the descriptions of the mare’s who were now key to the nation’s defense, and she did bear the proper coloring and name. That didn’t necessarily prove anything, not in a realm where magic could disguise a pony’s appearance easily, and there were creatures that could take on the looks of another as naturally as others might put on a set of clothes... but again those honest, intense eyes spoke of the truth.

“Very well Miss Raindrops, I’m inclined to believe you,” he said, “However the Princess is not available-’

“Not available!? Why!?”

“Ahem, if you’d let me finish... The Princess is not in Canterlot at this time. She is currently taking care of a diplomatic issue up north with the griffins. We can get a message to her fast enough with magic, but it may take her hours or more to return, assuming she just dropped what she was doing to do so.”

Raindrops’ jaw worked silently for a second, veins popping out along her brow as her eyes widened, her face bleeding over red. Starhelm raised an eyebrow as the mare trembled for a second, then widened his eyes as she all but exploded in rage, rearing up on her hind hooves

“Burn it all in the core of the sun!” she slammed a hooves into the ground, cracking another poor helpless cobblestone in half, “I have to get that spell back to Oaton now! They’re all counting on me!”

“Miss Raindrops, please calm yourself-”

“How am I supposed to be calm!?”

“Just breathe, ma’am. Even if the Princess were here, it’d take time to process you meeting with her. We couldn’t just see you through to her. There are rules to follow, and seeing Equestria’s ruler on short notice... well, there are no provisions for the bearers of the Elements of Harmony to avoid such red tape,” Starhelm explained, voice sympathetic. At Raindrops dejected look and frustrated snort he went on, “However, given that there does seem to be an emergency situation occurring, I assure you I will do what I can to help.”

He turned to the recruit, “Ardent Vigil, escort Miss Raindrops to Canterlot University. Assist her in finding this spell she’s looking for there and ensure it happens with all due haste. I shall join you shortly.”

Ardent Vigil looked... hesitant at best, giving Raindrops a wary look that said he in no way trusted her story, but the recruit was obedient. Saluting with one wing Ardent said, “Yes sir. Sir, what will you be doing sir?”

Starhelm sighed, “Too many sirs, “ he muttered, then said, louder, “I shall be breaking multiple regulations and bypassing countless points of due process to quickly secure additional assistance for Miss Raindrops and this... Oaton you said?”

Raindrops’ stared at him, her anger receding just a tad under her surprise, “Y-yes! Oaton, its a small village near the southern border of South Everfree. I could show you where on a map! Please tell me there are unicorns in the Night Guard that can teleport!”

“Not a common spell at all, but yes, there are a few,” Starhelm replied quickly, “I think I can go smack one of them awake. Oh the paperwork I’m going to have to fill out after this. Miss Raindrops, I do hope this is not some prank, otherwise...”

“No prank. Dead serious,” Raindrops said, already turning and stretching her wings with a groan, “Argh, never flown so fast in my life. Okay, where’s the University form here?”

Ardent Vigil already took to the air, “Come, I’ll lead you. But I’m keeping my eyes on you! You seem shifty!”

Raindrops heaved out a sigh, “Fine. Watch me all you want, but fly while you’re doing it.”

Despite looking more tired than a guard who’d pulled a triple shift, the jasmine pegasus easily kept pace with the young Night Guard as he flew off towards Canterlot proper. Starhelm watched them go with an appreciative eye. That mare had pushed herself beyond her physical limits, but had not even so much as taken a breather. Even if he’d denied her, he got the impression she would have torn the palace down stone by stone if necessary, to get what she needed. 

If this was the quality of the mares who’d earned the right to bear the Elements of Harmony, perhaps there was no reason to fear for Equestria’s safety after all.

----------

Trixie had lost all concept of time. There was no sense of the seconds passing. Each moment could have been minutes, hours, no way of knowing. There was just the spell before her, the pain wracking her horn as Trixie pushed every last shred of magic she had through it, and the sight of Bushel laying in her mother’s hooves. The sight of the filly may well have been the only thing keeping Trixie going.

The only other thing in her world at the moment was the darkness, and its voices. Voices that sounded like her, like her friends, like the ponies of Oaton, even her mentor, Luna. The voices taunted her, chided her, spoke of her failures and weakness. They were relentless. Trixie wanted to gouge her own eardrums out, but part of her thought that was just more of the Whisper’s influence. At least the physical Whisper's were gone, thank Luna for small favors. 

Still, the multitude of whispering voices would occasionally cease, to be replaced by a single voice that still sounded to Trixie’s ears a little too much like her own, if her voice was distorted by a howling wind. 

“On your last legs?” that Whisper said, chiding, “No surprise. Your magic was weak to start with. How prideful do you have to be to think you could keep this up, as weak as you are?.”

Trixie didn’t even have the energy to answer, her eyes stinging with sweat dripping down her face as she focused on just keeping her magic going. She could feel the last motes of magic in her horn straining to keep her end of the spell going. This was the worst kind of magical challenge for her; one of raw endurance. Trixie was a unicorn of finesse. She didn’t have a lot of magic, but she made creative use of what she did have. But there was nothing to be creative with here, no ticks or loopholes to exploit, no performance to be made... just an unending contest to keep her magic going. As much as she was loath to admit it, the Whisper was right, her magic wasn’t the most prodigious in Equestrian history in terms of volume. Even Lyra had a greater magic reserve that Trixie did. But size didn’t matter, it was how you used it! 

Except in rituals that required you to use it for hours on end.

...That line of thinking was highly embarrassing and Trixie decided to stop it in its tracks.

The voice didn’t seem to care about her lack of response, oily gray smoke swirling in front of her eyes. The smoke skittered off a the sparking white barrier of energy the ritual spell was conjuring, like the angry claws of a caged animal.

“Ignoring me makes no difference. You’re breaking, and even if you did manage to keep going on, what’s the point? Oaton is finished.”

Unbidden to Trixie’s mind came the image of a ruined village, Oaton. Trixie’s breaths turned sharper at the image, of the village flooded through, its ponies swept away by the rapid waters. She shook her head.

“That’s a lie.”

“Is it? How do you know? What makes you think ponies who have no reason to trust each other, and every reason to hate each other, could work together to even save themselves?”

“I don’t need to know. I don’t need proof,” said Trixie, forcing herself to stay on her hooves even as her magic started to flicker. Just a little longer! Just a little more, don’t go out!, she grit her teeth and stared into the formless smoke, realizing that’s all this thing really was; smoke in the wind. “I believe that when we purge you from this place and go trotting out of these woods, Oaton will still be there! Ponies don’t break as easily as you think!” 

“They don’t?” the voice, which was sounding less and less like Trixie’s and more akin to something formless, dark, and guttural, “Tarnished broke. Broke like a twig, and that was before I started to touch her mind. Ponies haven’t changed at all, not in thousands of years. So much stock put in ideals, but the moment those ideals are tested... you’ll eat each other alive.”

Trixie tried to respond, but it only came out as a groan of pain as she felt her horn’s magic starting to flare out. She delved into herself, searching for any last scrap of magic she could throw into the spell. Then, quite abruptly, she felt some of the strain on her horn slacken, giving that guttering flame of magic in her a chance to breath and recover. She looked around in surprise, and saw that Sheaf and Sawdust both were pouring out more magic from their horns.

“S-stop this...” she said, breathing heavily, “You two don’t need to pick up my slack!”

Sheaf sighed, his own face pouring sweat, but he was standing firmly, without shaking, “Don’t be an idiot. Just shut up and let us do our part. You can take credit for it later, if you want.”

“Credit!? This has gone a little beyond who gets credit! You’ll burn yourselves out at this rate!”

“I hardly think you’re in a position to lecture us, Miss Trixie, on pushing ourselves towards burnout,” said Sawdust calmly, despite the way his body shook with the strain of magical effort, “Really, how did such a wool headed mare disrupt my plans so much? Just allow Sheaf and I to do what we must.” 

The gray smoke churned and flowed like a tornado around its confines in the barrier, trying to strike out at all of them, even Picturesque and Bushel. However the inverted pyramid barrier held the smoke fast, flashing every time the smoke struck, but holding strong. The voice, now a formless, genderless howl, raged at them.

“Stop pretending to be helping each other! That is not how ponies are supposed to act! You crack under pressure! Become wretched things when the chips are down! Blame and turn on one another! That is the nature of ponies. It has always been-”

“Hey, Sawdust, Sheaf,” said Picturesque, ignoring the Whisper’s voice, “Remember that time we all took a trip to the Canterlot Falls, during winter break?”

“Huh?” said Sheaf, then he chuckled, “Oh, right, I remember. That’s the day you pushed me into the water!”

“I maintain I slipped,” said Picturesque with a smile.

“Sister, I believe I can testify that you did indeed slip,” said Sawdust, who then grinned in a fond manner that was at odds with his otherwise controlled features, “Intentionally. Into Sheaf. Just so you could see him wet, as I recall you confiding in me before you did so.”

“Ha! I knew it!” said Sheaf, “You just wanted to see how I looked soaked!”

“Oh, fine you two, I admit it, I just wanted to see some wet stallion flank!” said Picturesque, “I had my camera ready and everything! But you pulled me into the water before I could get a shot! I had the framing perfect and everything!”

“What is this drivel!?” the Whisper’s voice distorted into many smaller voices, “You hate each other! You don’t trust each other!”

“I remember the night after that more than anything,” said Sawdust, “You two had to stay near the fire to stay warm, and I got roped into cooking. Never actually cooked a full meal before... ha, I remember making a giant list of ingredients I’d need, half of it stuff I didn’t actually turn out to need at all for cooking a simple batch of coleslaw and hayfries. You... Sheaf you ended up having to help me anyway, because I somehow managed to catch the hayfries on fire.”

Sheaf sighed, smiling, yet a sad look entering his eyes, “Yes, I think me and Pic forbade you from cooking after that. But we ate the fries anyway, char and all.”

Picturesque hugged Bushel close, stroking the filly’s mane, “Sawdust, I wish you’d been there the day I had Bushel. I know you thought it was a mistake for me to move to Oaton but... but the party the whole village threw me and Sheaf and our new Bushel was incredible. That was the happiest day of my life. The only thing that could have made it better is if my brother had been there.”

“Picturesque,” Sawdust lowered his head, “I wanted you to be happy. It never sunk in that maybe you were happy, even if life sent you in a different direction than I thought you wanted. I’m sorry I made a mess of things again.”

“I messed up too. Family trait, I guess,” said Picturesque, sniffing back tears, but she was smiling despite them. 

“What is the point of this?” said the Whisper’s distorted voice, the churning mass of black and gray smoke inside the barrier lashing against the magic holding it, “Remembering the past doesn't change the present. Oaton will drown in sorrow. The foal will burn from her own uncontrolled ability. Your pain, rage and despair will feed me. More, and more, and until what was once a piece of a whole has enough strength to be a whole in and of itself.”

“That won’t be happening,” Trixie said past labored breaths. Even with Sawdust and Sheaf taking some more of the ritual’s energy onto themselves she was still running on fumes. How long had they been at this? Was Raindrops anywhere close to returning? What if she couldn’t hold out? NO! She would not let herself even think about stopping. She blinked away tears from the lances of pain wracking her horn as she dredged up any tiny drop of magic that still lay inside her as she spoke, “You need negative feelings to get stronger. You want us to hate and mistrust each other. You wanted Oaton and the Lumber Guild to fight, and the Copper Coin Family to fuel the flames. Even these three,” she gestured at Picturesque, Sheaf, and Sawdust, “You want to just tear into each other...”

Trixie laughed, “But that’s not what’s happening is it!? Oaton, the lumber ponies, Count Shiny and his ponies, I bet right now they’re fighting together to save each other! Tarnished, that mare you thought you had broken so thoroughly, my friend is with her right now, I know it, and they’ll fight against all that anger and hate you tired to put in her! Just like these three are fighting it! Yes, we ponies are pretty flawed. I know that better than most! We do things we think are right but just end up hurting others, and act impulsively, or let our emotions and egos get the better of us. But. We. Learn! We own up to our faults and mistakes, and become better ponies for them!”

“I see,” the Whisper said in a voice like a piece of frozen midnight, “Yet, for all that fine speech... you’re at the end of your endurance.”

Trixie felt it almost the second the Whisper’s words finished. When a unicorn hits that point of burnout, where they’ve used the last vestige of their magic, its a sensation unlike any other. It’s a feeling where all feeling in one’s body begins to pool away, like a hole has been cut in a barrel and the liquid inside is just being... let out, leaving behind cold emptiness. This cold flows from one’s core, up into the horn, and its like life itself is being blown out, a fire flickering out its last embers, with only ash left over. 

Trixie felt that, as her horn’s magical aura struggled, wavered, and with a final, last tiny mote, burned out-

Trixie was yanked bodily from the ritual circle with remarkable force. She’d been about to collapse anyway, so she wasn’t really keen on resisting, and sort of just flopped like a boneless fish into the hooves of whoever had just pulled her away from the ritual.

Her vision was somewhat blurry and darkened, and that last mote of magic energy had only just been kept from being used up in the ritual. With her concentration broken she actually feel the ludicrous exhaustion in her body, and the ringing in her ears blocked out much else for a moment. She was both relieved and terrified. Why had she been pulled out of the ritual!? 

“-ixe! Trixie! Sun blind you look at me!” 

Trixie blinked her eyes and looked up. The chamber ceiling was above, flickering with light and shadows, and hovering above her was a blurred form. Trixie felt warm, strong hooves holding her. 

“Trixie!”

Finally Trixie’s vision stopped acting as if she were at the bottom of a lake and cleared, showing her a familiar jasmine coated pony Trixie was resting her head on. Trixie tried to ignore how remarkably comfortable her friend was as she cleared her dry throat to speak.  

“Oh, hey... Raindrops,” Trixie tried to raise a hoof to rub at her eyes, but found she couldn’t even lift it.

The jasmine pegasus mare was holding Trixie as she lay on her back on the stone chamber floor, and as Trixie tilted her head to look around she could see her friend wasn’t alone. The chamber had many more occupants now. She recognized Cheerilee and Count Shiny, both standing nearby by the edge of the ritual circle. Both ponies looked like they’d been through, well, a storm. Count Shiny in particular looked soaked to the bone, and twice as tired. The Count was shouting something.

“Tarnished, be careful! This is-is n-not safe!”

Trixie turned her head to see Tarnished. The mare was standing where Trixie had been, her horn glowing brightly as it struggled to interface with the ritual spell. Apparently she’d traded places with Trixie at just the right moment and the ritual barrier still held. The mare looked even more disheveled as she had when Trixie had first seen the other mare, but Tarnished was smiling. And not the crazy, unnatural smile she’d worn before. No, this was a the smile of a mare who was doing exactly what she felt she needed to do.

“It’s alright brother, I think I can do this, and this can be my way of paying part of my debt to the ponies that have saved me from this thing!” 

“Yes, what is this thing again, anyone know?” asked a stallion in the armor of a Night Guard, a pegasus of middle age, though much else was hard to tell past the uniform and armor. Several other Night Guard were in the chamber, one of them a younger pegasus who was jumping at every shadow in the chamber.

“I don’t know, Sir Starhelm, but this place makes my mane crawl!”

Raindrops looked up from Trixie, “Nevermind that, Trixie needs help! I think she’s overchanneled!”

The elder Night Guard came over, but Trixie was already trying to push herself up, if not to her hooves, at least into a sitting position.

“I’m- I’m fine...didn’t overchannel,” the magician said, hoof touching her head, and frowning when she found her hat wasn’t there. She spotted it sitting on the ground a little ways away and she reached a hoof to retrieve it, but Raindrops held her close.

“You’re not moving until I know for sure you’re alright,” Raindrops said sternly.

“Don’t have time for this,” Trixie muttered, “The Whisper, have to stop it now. You have the other half of the spell thingie?” Spell thinige? Her brain might actually be a little fried. Perhaps it was a good idea to just sit there a second and catch her breath. 

“You are Trixie Lulamoon then,” the older pegasus Nightguard, Starhelm said, “Your compatriot has gone to great lengths to bring the spell components you require. I hope you know how to use them.”

He gestured and one of the other Night Guard come up, bearing a saddlebag that he removed and opened up. Inside was a rolled scroll of parchment and a thick book. The Night Guard removed these and presented them to Trixie, but upon realizing that Trixie didn’t even have enough magic to levitate the objects in question the Night Guard just set them down in front of her. 

Trixie stared at the items blankly for a second, before trying to reach over to them, still barely able to move her hooves. Raindrops was quick to help, and Cheerilee came over as well, kneeling down in front of Trixie as Raindrops unrolled the scroll.

“You look terrible,” said Cheerilee, “I’m going to suggest a full treatment at Aloe and Lotus’ spa when we get home, plus a week of sleep.”

“Oh, oh I am far ahead of you on plans along those lines,” said Trixie as Raindrops showed her the scroll.

“I don’t know anything about magic,” said Raindrops, “But this is what was in the spot Sawdust’s journal notes said, and it looks magical.”

Trixie looked the scroll’s contents over and was almost impressed with the simplicity of what she was seeing. As a mare who wasn’t all that into learning magic from written sources she could at least appreciate the straightforward nature of the ritual component presented on the scroll. It was designed, far as she could tell, to be cast by a single one of the unicorns already performing the barrier portion of the ritual, and doing so would ‘plug in’ the new spell into the barrier spell seamlessly.

“This looks like what we need,” Trixie said, though there was a note of unease in her voice, “What’s the book?”

“The research journal of the unicorn who translated the spell on the scroll,” said Raindrops, “I just skimmed it enough to confirm this scroll was the right one.”

“I don’t mean to sound pushy,” said Sawdust from across the room, his breathing haggard from the effort of his continued casting to hold the barrier, “But perhaps you’d be so kind as to bring the scroll over so we can use it? Before the rest of us run out of magic?”

Trixie tried to rise but Cheerilee put a hoof on her, “Take a breather, Trixie. Let us take things from here.” 

Trixie frowned but nodded, taking a deep breath, still feeling the utter cold drain on her body from her ordeal in keeping the first half the ritual going for so long. She laid back down, looking across the chamber at the ritual. The pyramid shaped barrier still held the swirling mass of dark gray smoke, and Sheaf, Sawdust, and now Tarnished poured their magic into maintaining that barrier even as the smoke swirled like a hurricane trying to break free. Beneath it all Picturesque still hold her daughter Bushel close to her side, looking worriedly at her brother and her husband as both stallions strained themselves; neither far behind Trixie in running out of magic. 

Count Shiny stood aside with the Night Guards, the former giving his sister a look of both concern, fear, and oddly enough, pride. 

Cheerilee scooped up the scroll and quickly trotted it over to Sawdust, who took it and laid it out on the floor in front of him. Trixie was still thinking about the arcane writing as he did so. It was a single arcane pattern that drew in the positive energy from the ponies casting the barrier portion of the spell and amplified it into a burst of purifying magic directed on whatever exists inside the barrier. Very straightforward. Very simple.

Only Trixie was fairly certain that the spell would put the unicorn who cast it through an incredible amount of strain. A fresh unicorn, who had their magic at full capacity could handle it. Even a unicorn who had been holding the barrier spell for a little bit could logically take on the purification spell and still be good...but what about one who’d been using up their magic to hold the barrier for hours?

It would cause overchanneling almost certainly.  

Sawdust was already channeling his magic to enact the second part of the ritual from the scroll, a triangle of magical light tracing into the air in front of him and filling with arcane sigils. He didn’t look concerned, just concentrating. Did he not know what the spell would do to him!? 

“Sawdust, wait!” she shouted, and as she did so she saw him look at her. Saw his calm, half-lidded eyes that showed not a hint of surprise. He knew. He knew exactly how dangerous casting this spell was. He’d known it since suggesting this plan to begin with, because this had been his plan the entire time.

Oh, his original plan had called for him, Tarnished, and Sheaf casting the spell without having to hold the barrier for a long length of time. He’d intended to do this while still near full strength, not drained from his fight with Trixie and from hours of holding the barrier. But he was going ahead anyway because...

He looked at Bushel, smiling sadly.

... because it was still the only chance his niece had of surviving.

Others had looked at Trixie as she shouted, but only Picturesque had looked over at her brother at Trixie’s shouting warning.

“Sawdust? Brother?” she asked, as the triangular pattern in front of him filled with the final sigils of the purification spell, and Sawdust, now obscured by a glowing pulse of light that was filling the entire chamber said.

“Sorry, sister. This isn’t what I had planned, but its the best I can do, given circumstances.”

The Whisper’s voice suddenly roared, distorted like the sound of a hundred conflicting winds clashing.

“Sacrificing yourself!? Do you not care about your plans for the future!? Controlling the largest, most powerful city in the realm!? Your ambitions!?”

“Of course I do,” said Sawdust, his horn’s magic flickering out with struggling motes of light, just as Trixie’s had moment’s before, “I’m surprised myself that I’m doing this. It’s strange, though, the moment I realized my family’s lives were the cost of my ambitions, something changed. I knew what needed to be done. What was right to do.  No matter the price I’d pay to see it done.”

“That’s utterly ridiculous,” said the Whisper, “Where does this sudden self-sacrificing drivel come from!? There should be nothing like that inside you! You’re no hero! So why!?”

The light from the purification spell was nearly too bright to look upon now, and the strength of that light was not just stemming from Sawdust’s magic, but it was flowing into the spell from the others in the room. Sheaf, whose face was a pained but set determinedly as he looked at his old friend. Tarnished who looked as if she wasn’t sure if she shouldn’t be in Sawdust’s place. Picturesque, staring at her brother with wide eyes, tears running. Light pooled from each of them into the spell, drawing all the positive energy into a single focal point. 

Even Trixie felt motes of that energy flowing from her into the spell, and she looked at the boiling gray cloud of smoke that was the concentrated negative energy fused into an entity that clearly wasn’t able to comprehend why a pony would be willing to put their lives at risk to save others.

“Being a hero has nothing to do with it,” she told the Whisper bluntly, “Doing what’s right, that’s a choice anypony can make. No matter how many mistakes they’ve made.” 

The Whisper scoffed, but there was an odd resignation in its tone.

There was blinding flash of light and a rush of magical force that drowned out sound for a moment. Trixie had her face shielded by one of Raindrop’s wings, and within the torrent of light she could hear the faint, distorted voice, the Whisper’s final words echoing in Trixie’s mind.

“Then heroism is no different than corruption... a choice.”

----------

Cut n’ Dry was exhausted beyond belief. She felt like her horn was cracked, even though she’d rubbed it more than a few times to make sure it wasn’t. She lay against a pile of logs, just sucking in and out air.

“Aaaugh,” a male voice groaned as somepony flopped down next to her. Cut n’ Dry looked over, seeing Bootheel leaning against the logs, rubbing his face with a hoof, and shaking himself like a dog, sending water spraying everywhere. Cut n’ Dry grimaced and wiped her face of water.

“Dang it Bootheel, I’m trying to suffer in peace here!” she said, looking over her own mud covered form. This had been one Tartarus of a night. But it was over. The storm had finally cleared an hour ago, the black clouds blowing away to reveal Luna’s star filled sky above. 

The sky was already starting to turn lighter shades of periwinkle blue as dawn approached. Cut n’ Dry never imagined she’d ever feel so good at the prospect of the sun rising, as she ached to have some warmth in her drenched bones. Around her dozens and dozens of other ponies also rested, many of them looking so drained they couldn’t do more than lay among their fellows and look about in shock that they’d survived the night. The only ponies around who didn’t look exhausted was the squad of Night Guard that milled around the dam. Those ponies had arrived not long before the storm broke, helping out, though few ponies had had time to question them on how’d they’d shown up.

Cut n’ Dry assumed they’d been brought by Raindrops. She fidgeted, hoping the mare was alright.

They’d survived. The dam had held. The river, despite nearly sweeping over them, had been held back. Cut n’ Dry had a hard time believing it, but ultimately she could only attribute their success on a combination of miraculous factors. Count Shiny’s leadership had been impressive, for one, and Cut n’ Dry couldn’t feel more pride surge through her at remembering her lord diving into the thick of the chaos, keeping everypony focused on what needed to be done. Even in that one harrowing moment they’d nearly lost him. She couldn’t thank the Oaton ponies enough for pulling him out of the water... a strange feeling, considering she’d felt so much scorn for the Oaton ponyfolk not long ago.

But those Oaton ponies had really pulled through. Their help had been key. Cut n’ Dry had to grudgingly admit she’d been impressed with them. The Lumber Guild too. And those beavers... Cut n’ Dry still found it odd that an entire clan of the critters had been brought by Count Shiny’s sister to help. 

“Wild night,” Bootheel said, stretching popping limbs, “If only I coulda found a good mare to make it even wilder with!”

Cut n’ Dry groaned, “Bootheel... please... I don’t have the energy for you and your one track mind.”

She looked around, “You seen my brother anywhere?”

“Lock n’ Key’s over yonder,” Bootheel gestured towards the east end of the dam, “Still working with one of them Oaton mare’s double and triple checking patches on that end of the dam. Think your bro’s gonna get some before I do, way the mare was eyeing him.”

Cut n’ Dry sighed, pushing herself to her hooves. She wiped at her tabard, trying to get enough mud off it that the Copper Coin red fish could show through, “Better go check on him. Then organize a party to head into the woods. I’m worried about the Count.”

“That is most wise, but also unnecessary,” said a rich, strong female tone from above.

Cut n’ Dry looked around confused for a moment. Then she saw Bootheel looking up into the sky with wide, boggling eyes. Cut n’ Dry followed his gaze and felt her own jaw drop. 

Hovering in the air upon flaps of her wide wings whose color matched the darker shades of the night sky, was Equestria’s monarch. Princess Luna was bereft of any royal regalia, and had a windswept coat, as if she’d been flying nonstop. That minor detail barely registered to Cut n’ Dry though, over the simple shock of seeing the actual Princess of the Night landing in front of her and tucking her wings to her sides.

Very nice wings, over the most supple and well toned body Cut n’ Dry had ever - what are you thinking Cut! Its the Princess! Get your mind focused and stop noticing how her muscles ripple under her sublet coat as she walk-GAH!

“Huwahah?” was about all Cut n’ Dry could manage in terms of conversation. 

Princess Luna raised a coy eyebrow, but her features quickly became a frown of concern as she swept her gaze across the scene before her.

“I see I have arrived too late to do much to aid in matters. You ponies have my sincerest apologies, I made all the haste I could afford to arrive here as fast as possible,” she said, her voice sympathetic, “In any case, I see ponies emerging from the edge of the forest, my apprentice and her friends among them. Let us go meet them... it seems some among them may be injured..” 

The Night Guards who had been waiting by the dam immediately came over to stand at attention for their Princess, while the Oaton, Lumber Guild, and Copper Coin ponies all gawked. Princess Luna didn’t seem to pay the gawking much mind, instead giving those ponies around her a warm, and even apologetic smile.

Cut n’ Dry had only just managed to register what the Princess had said, and could only wonder at how the Princess knew Count Shiny and the others were coming back, as looking towards the forest she couldn’t see anything. Bootheel, meanwhile, was staring at the Princess with absolutely no sense of shame. If Princess Luna noticed, she wasn’t reacting to the guard drinking in the sight of her like a barrel of cider. Cut n’ Dry interceded on the Princess’ behalf and smacked her fellow guard upside the head.

“She’s the Princess!”

“You were staring too,” he said.

Blast it, he had a point. 

Within minutes Princess Luna, with an escort of Night Guard, and with Cut n’ Dry and a detail of the Copper Coin Houseguard in two, was going out to the field surrounding the forest. Cut n’ Dry was surprised only slightly as she saw the ragged band of ponies emerging from the treeline just then. Cut n’ Dry made a mental note never to underestimate the senses of an alicorn.

The group of ponies that approached the Princess and her entourage was a sight, many of them looking as worse for wear as the ponies around the dam.

Cut n’ Dry recognized Count Shiny walking alongside his sister and the magenta mare, Cheerilee, all three looking equal parts relieved, but also trepidation upon seeing Princess Luna.

Raindrops, trotted tall and strong, was a warm sight to Cut n’ Dry’s heart. The pegasus did look magnificent. The Princess’ beauty was ethereal, unreal... Cut n’ Dry found she preferred the more solid, identifiable charm of the athletic Raindrops. Upon Raindrops’ back was the azure blue form of Trixie Lulamoon, hat and all, conscious, but looking utterly tired. Cut n’ Dry felt a stab of jealousy, wishing to trade places with Trixie, wondering what that strong, lean pegasus back felt like to drape on- focus Cut! 

Beside Raindrops two other ponies walked; Picturesque and Sheaf. They two had ponies on their backs. Picturesque was carrying the little filly, Bushel, who was awake and holding her mother around her neck. Her forehead still bore a glowing horn of energy, but even at this distance Cut n’ Dry could tell the horn’s glow was a lot more subdued than it was before. 

...Upon Sheaf’s back was the Lumber Guild leader, Sawdust. He wasn’t moving.

Behind the lead ponies a small squad of Night Guards trotted, as if keeping guard from anything that might come from the forest.

The two parties met, and Princess Luna looked upon the tired ponies before her.

“Trixie, Cheerilee, Raindrops...” the Princess said with concern full in her voice, “I’ve been told an evil threatened this village, one of dire nature. I came as fast as I could.”

Trixie raised a weary hoof, “Dealt with,” the showmare let out a heavy sigh, her eyes glancing over to Sawdust on Sheaf’s back, “Not without cost. Don’t suppose you brought some ether potions with you?”

Princess Luna looked at the stallion, who Cut n’ Dry could see was still breathing, but was unconscious. The question about ether potions could only mean one thing; burnout. 

“I did not,” said the Princess, “But such items are but two teleport spells away, along with medical aide and anything else that is needed. Starhelm, I see you back there. Does any threat to this area still remain?”

The Night Guard stepped up, offering a quick bow, “No, my Princess. The danger is passed, thanks to the efforts of the ponies you see before you. There is... some interesting wildlife in the forest, but one of the mares here claims they are not a threat.”

Princess Luna looked over the ponies arrayed before her and nodded, “Very well, let us tend to our wounded and fallen. I can hear the tale once the needs of my ponies are looked after. I can see this is going to be a long tale indeed.”