Aether's Vigil dwindled into the distance as Twilight fell, her mane and tail streaming above her. Strands flicked violently around her face, forcing her to squint to see. The vertical wall sped past her, shadowy tendrils of the curse reaching ever upwards towards the rim. Her heart lurched with adrenaline as she reached out a hoof into the streaming air, flipping herself over. She felt certain that the rocks would reach up to crush her, so she reached for her magic.
There was no need. The drop below her yawned endlessly into a vague distance before her eyes teared up from the wind. She shivered in the frigid gale of her plummet, unwarmed by the pale, distant sun, and she let her magic go. Her initial calculations may have been accurate, actually. She probably had hours upon hours to contemplate her choice before she would have to join once again with the shadows. Twilight closed her eyes against the wind and bit back her screams.
Not that I have to wait. The thought slithered through her mind, adding to the fluttery panic of her freefall. She would need the darkness. Her certainty was absolute. The might boiling and seething in a rush past her seemed unfathomable, and when it was wielded it had proven to be stronger than the Elements themselves. Once she found this threat and eradicated it, she could make her way back to the airship and clean this curse up. But she held back for now, reveling in the strength of her will as she skimmed the writhing shadows like a filly skimming a flame with her hoof, daring the fire to burn her.
A wisp of doubt flitted through her the back of her mind. How many promises was she breaking with this one act? It appalled her to the core to know just how completely she had failed to find a non-violent path. Hadn't she learned to trust her friends? Hadn't she learned, at times harshly, to trust that her friends were her greatest source of strength?
Twilight's violet eyes shed drops of moisture into the wind. No. She thought. Friendship is just another form of power, the safest form of power. Celestia had tried to keep her student from the truth to preserve her from the risk. And now she's gone. Even alone, Twilight was glad to have the wind as an excuse for her tears.
But she wasn't alone for long. Twilight counted down in her head, eventually spinning in time to see a blue dot appear against the brightening sky above her. She spread her limbs into the biting wind, controlling and slowing her fall as best she could. She figured Dash would have the good sense not to break the sound barrier, giving away her presence dramatically; but she didn't want to give her a reason to, either.
She needn't have worried. The blue blur sped silently towards her, swift as an arrow, until she drew close enough to make out her crimson eyes and vibrant mane. With practiced ease, Rainbow Dash angled towards her heart and spread her arms to catch her. But at the last second Twilight rolled through the thin air, spinning out of reach.
“Oh, seriously?” Dash called out, swooping back around. “You really think you're doing this all on your own?”
“I have to!” Twilight called out, her spin slowed by her outstretched limbs.
“Horsecrap!” Dash flitted over, stabilizing Twilight's spin without slowing her. She tucked her own wings in and joined her friend in freefall. “You'll die on your own! Is that what you want!?”
Twilight struggled to speak past mouthfuls of her violent mane. “I'll be fine!” She tried to gesture towards the nearly vertical wall of crawling darkness. “There's so much power here!”
Twilight set the world about her spinning with the careless gesture until Dash's strong hooves steadied her again. “There's a whole ship full of your friends willing to lay down their lives for you, and all you. . .”
“That's the point!” Twilight screamed into the wind. “There's been too much death already! Can't you see that?” Dash's intense, angry glare lost its focus, and Twilight pushed her advantage. “Nopony else is going to die, okay? Not if I can help it! Rainbow, I don't. . . There's just so much. . . You'll just have to trust me, okay? I'll make it back, I promise.” Twilight reached across the space between them to cover Dash's hoof with her own. “I know what this must look like. With Cele. . . w-with everything that's happened, it must look like I'm giving up, or giving in. But I'm not. I swear to you I'm not.”
“No.” Dash's voice was difficult to hear over the roar of their plummet. “You'll just turn all evil again, wont you? And what happens when you come back to us and end up trying to kill us, huh? What are we supposed to do then?”
Twilight was silent for a long moment before she drew Dash closer. She said, “Then, throughout Equestria, they will sing songs about the heroic pegasus Rainbow Dash, who pummeled the sinister Nightmare Sparkle before she could bring about eternal dusk.”
Dash snorted, and the ghost of a smile played across her lips. “And you deserve a pummeling for saying that.” She shook her head. “But you're missing the point.”
“This is the point.” Twilight pushed away, gliding backwards a little. “If this darkness isn't power enough, then we never had a chance to begin with.” She met Dash's gaze, daring her friend to contradict her. The pegasus glanced away first. “You know I'm right, Dash. Please, just. . . Just tell the others I'll be back as soon as I can. Tell them to wait for me.”
Rainbow Dash sighed heavily. She nodded slowly, her brow creased in thought. She ran an idle hoof through her mane while her soft blue coat rippled in the cold air. “Yeah. . .” Dash spread her wings again, and her eyes became as hard as rubies. “That's not gonna happen.” She blurred forward to catch the falling unicorn.
Instead, in a flash of violet light, Twilight was alone once again.
“Follow her.” Fluttershy stood tall by the edge of the ship, her tail a banner in the breeze.
“It's. Too. Dangerous.” Cloud clipped the words with sharp snaps of her beak.
Sun Shade held up a hoof. “How do we know she jumped? Couldn't she have fallen by purest accident?”
“Without makin' a sound?” Applejack glared out at the brightening sky. “She ain't that helpless.”
“I can't believe her. . .” Spike's voice barely made any sound. “She left us again. . .”
Fluttershy took a pair of steps towards the Vigil's control panels, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “We need to follow her.”
“There now, sugar.” Applejack stroked a hoof over trembling purple scales. “I'm sure Dash'll bring her back in a jiffy. You'll see.” But his balled-up claws didn't unclench.
“Dash wont be able to stop her.” Pinkie had let her blankets fall forgotten to the floor. “And she wont be able to talk her out of it either.”
Spike's little chest heaved.
“You'rrre talking about mass suicide!” Kelbri's colorful feathers all stood on end.
“The darkness shall ill serve Twilight's purpose.” Luna's words rang with authority. “She will fail. And should we all become very, very lucky. . . she will die.” The Princess of the Night swept the room with her gaze, silencing any response. “'Tis suicide now to remain here.”
There was a blinding flash of light and a loud thud as Rainbow Dash reappeared and flattened against the hard floor. “Unh. . .” She moaned, twitching a wing weakly. “Yeah. . . She jumped all right. . . Stupid, purple, window-licking lunatic. . . Ugh, sorry Princess. . .”
Fluttershy climbed up over the control panel, bracing her hooves on the edges. She leaned forward until the bridge of her nose met the tiny feathers between Cloud's eyes. Her wings were spread towards the ceiling, and her eyes were bloodshot and intense. Cloud felt hot breath on her beak. “Follow her.” Cloud could actually hear the pony's teeth grinding together. “Now.”
The stoic Clouded Gaze shivered.
Twilight fell.
She fell and fell and fell and fell and fell and fell and fell and fell. The jittery, breathless sensation of freefall eventually faded into a frigid nausea. Her stomach rebelled against its mistreatment, against the constant spinning and weightless yawing. It gurgled angrily over how empty it felt, and for awhile it waged a valiant war, its only aim to wrap itself around Twilight's backbone. Eventually, even her stomach gave up complaining, and Twilight fell through a numb, empty roar of silence.
She pulled in her limbs, streamlining herself and aiming herself away from the almost imperceptible curve of the crater wall. She was no expert in aerodynamics, but she felt the air deform around her, pressing against her like a taut, chilly fabric, preventing further acceleration. What was it called in the books? Terminal velocity? For a time a small part of Twilight reveled in the speed, and the sense of power it brought. She wondered if this was anything like what Rainbow Dash felt when she flew.
Yet Twilight hadn't been at all prepared for how taxing it would be to simply fall. Soon enough, her muscles began to ache. A trickle of magic helped to keep her from freezing, but she was powerless to fight the strain of holding herself rigid. The constant series of subtle adjustments she needed to keep herself pointed the right direction took their toll. Her tense back and shoulders radiated pain down all four of her limbs, and a thick headache throbbed behind her temples.
Fortunately, after awhile she no longer noticed how difficult it was to breathe, but she couldn't ignore the wind. After a time, the wind no longer blew against her. Instead it struck her, lashed her, flayed every inch of her body. Despite the protection of her fur, she eventually felt as though the air itself would be enough to peel her skin off in tattered strips. But despite all of this, she didn't fight it. She tried to accept her suffering, embracing it as a welcome distraction from the turmoil in her soul. She allowed herself nothing in the way of respite, and her whimpers of pain reached no one’s ears. Not even her own.
As hours passed, and the sun arced higher and higher through the looming bowl of the sky, Twilight found herself wondering what Yami might look like, what it might be. She imagined a creature of colossal size, with spindly limbs and a maw filled with razor-sharp teeth. Or maybe it was a massive fungal creature, composed of legions of smaller, identical creatures. That might be difficult to kill. Or maybe it was something entirely different from anything she'd conceived before. Maybe it was a giant smoke monster, or a being composed entirely of light, born in some distant star.
As the day began to wane, the sun moving towards the crater's near rim far above, the ground finally began to curve towards her. Her heart lurched in anticipation as she spread her limbs to slow her fall. She reached out with her mind, and her body trembled as blackness seeped into her coat. Her pain vanished between one heartbeat and the next, and ferocity sang in her veins. She let out a breathless laugh, then another. She would finish this now.
“This is certainly unsettling!” Rarity shouted.
“You mean terrifyin'?” Applejack shouted back from right beside her. “You meant terrifyin', right?”
“On the contrary,” Sun Shade grinned, “I find the sensation invigorating!”
“And that's just another word for awesome!” Dash's voice cracked. She stared with wide eyes through broken windows as the airship plunged nose-first down the steep slope of the crater wall. The shadowy tendrils of the curse were muted by the rounded cobalt shield Luna had formed to keep the wind at bay.
“No, I'm certain I said the word 'unsettled.' As in I don't feel. . .” Rarity's voice trailed off into a squeak as her hooves gently left the nearly vertical floor. She quickly wrapped her arms around the tether attached to her harness. “. . .Quite settled.”
Rainbow Dash ignored her distress. “Hey Cloud, how fast are we going?”
“Uhh. . .” Cloud's knuckles were pale, her expression grim. “I'd say two-hundred and ten knots.” She swallowed thickly. “Maybe two-twenty. Kelbrri?”
“Two hundrrred forrrty-seven!” She trilled. “And holding!”
“Krearrk save us. . .” Cloud muttered.
Pinkie Pie hung suspended in the air, twirling about in slow, pink somersaults. “Oh, good!” She chirped. “D'you think we're going faster than Twilight was?”
“Ohoho yeah!” Dash laughed. Tremors of excitement ran up and down her outstretched wings. “We're doing about double her speed. She's had, what, a half-hour head start?” A careless grin quirked the corner of her mouth. “It should only take us fifteen minutes to catch up.”
“Pardon, but I do believe you're mistaken on the math.” Shade maintained her polite tone, but she spoke her words more firmly than she needed to.
“What do you mean?” Dash asked. “If we are going twice the speed, it'll take us half the time to catch up. It's simple math, Shade.”
Shade shrugged delicately. “No arguments there, 'tis quite simple. But if we fell for fifteen minutes at twice Twilight's speed, we would simply be where she was fifteen minutes ago. You see?”
Dash's eyebrows twitched, then without further preamble they clashed together dramatically above her eyes. “What. . . Huh?”
Pinkie, her tether cord neatly coiled from her slow twirls, released her hooves and let the cord spin her like a top as the built up tension released. “Wheeeeeeeee!”
“Dash, maybe y'all oughtta leave the mathin' to the engineers.” Applejack shot with a glare. “Pinkie, knock it off.”
Rarity and Sun Shade shared an amused smile.
Luna spoke. “In what manner didst she fall?”
All the smiles in the room vanished. “We beg pardon, your Highness?” Rarity offered.
Luna's hooves were planted solidly in the middle of the floor, her long horn awash with gentle light. Her gaze never wavered from the Vigil's steep course. “In what manner.” Her tone was grim. “Didst she fall.”
Dash suddenly realized who the Princess was addressing. “Oh, uh, with her hooves out, like this.” Dash hovered, scarcely using her wings as she stretched her hooves out in all four directions.
Luna's silence spoke volumes on the subject of disappointment. Applejack pinched the bridge of her nose with a hoof and sighed. “Rainbow. . .”
“I know, right?” Dash's smile returned. “That's, like, the slowest way to fall. She is such an egghead sometimes!”
“Rainbow!” Rarity interjected. “What if Twilight, oh I don't know, tried to slow herself down when you showed up? What if she's falling faster now?”
“She's not.” Dash replied earnestly.
“And how do you know?”
“Because,” Dash replied. “If she is, we'll never catch her in time.”
All around Twilight shadows seethed like opaque magma, roiling past her across the uneven ground. The distant sun had long ago been blotted out by thick, listless clouds underscored by silent, crawling flickers of lightning. There was no storm, the heart of the crater was far too dead and lifeless to harbor that kind of energy. The clouds simply spun like an endless carousel, damned in an eternally meaningless spiral. There were very few pale ones dragging their ghostly forms amongst the broken boulders and scree. Perhaps they were driven gently by the flow of shadows, or maybe they they only sought a warm pulse, coaxed towards the shoreline seeking the unreachable creatures thriving beneath the ocean's surface.
Twilight darted through the miasma, slipping effortlessly forward. The dark currents of power coursing through her veins buoyed and propelled her, and her hooves scarcely touched the slope. The scattered pale ones took no notice of her, and the tendrils of the curse barely rippled at her passing. She felt deadly, and she dared the universe to place anything, absolutely anything in her path. Her fetlocks itched with power, as though she couldn't wait to drive a hoof through something. It took more than a modest amount of restraint to keep herself from smashing nearby boulders as she flew past. A feral grin knifed across her features.
The power coursed through her body, and she felt it from her crest to her tail. But the power also coursed through her mind. Her thoughts drifted back to Ponyville, to the friendly and colorful faces that made up her home. Twilight shook her head. None of the ponies she'd come to care about had the vaguest clue how dangerous their world was. As the sun fled the world over the rim far above, Twilight imagined the residents of her cozy hamlet sleeping soundly, or rising from their beds and preparing for the coming day without the slightest clue how much sacrifice was required to preserve the harmony in their lives.
Even some of Twilight's previous triumphs in the face of evil went largely unappreciated by the population as a whole. The thought was not new, but the emotions around the thought had grown. She was filled with an overwhelming and entirely justified disdain for the petty troubles and drama that composed their lives. She cared for them, sure. Were they worth fighting for? Well, yes. They were all just so incredibly small.
But she had no time to marvel at the simplicity of her hometown and its cares. As the miles bled away beneath her, the ground had sort of begun to level out. The thin chill in the air had been replaced with an oppressive mugginess. There wasn't a single growing thing anywhere in this gaping scar, and the atmosphere had nowhere to go. So it sat and stagnated until it tasted like warm mildew. She wondered if she was close enough to the center to find Yami.
She opened her senses as she closed her eyes, feeling gently outward in every direction. Her mind instantly filled with a castrophony that stretched her mind and drove her to her knees. Details leapt up like corpses out of a massive graveyard. Every twist and gnarl of rock writhed torment towards the sick, grey clouds. Every shambling creature was a silent scream, every shift of shadow rancid sandpaper against her brain. She should have been revolted instead of exultant, but the power sustained her, comforted her, assured her she was equal to anything. Through the metaphysical din she combed, searching for the heart of it, searching for a thread that might lead her to the corrupted center, but. . .
Something else tickled the back of her mind. A cold, clear suggestion of familiarity. With grim focus she blocked out everything else, and. . . It was them. Aether's Vigil had pursued her into the crater, and even now it scraped through the scree and living oil, abrading her senses.
I don't believe it. She knelt, stunned, They followed me. Her hoof slammed into a nearby rock, shattering it and its neighbors into dust. Why couldn't they just LISTEN!? Can't they trust me for one hoof-rotted day? The shadows lashed around her in agitation, rippling outward. Those stupid, ignorant, helpless IDIOTS! If I end up losing the element of surprise here. . . She seethed, her head flicking back and forth between her friends and the direction she assumed her quarry lay. She thought that maybe. . . maybe she detected a small hint that Yami was out there. A faint heartbeat, a darker undercurrent beneath the greater mass of this cursed land.
She panted in the humid air, her coal-colored hooves reflected in her eyes. She honestly couldn't tell which path was right. Her friends may have needed her help, but they had Luna with them. They'd probably be fine. But if Twilight couldn't find and destroy this demon, they would all be dead soon anyway. They can take care of themselves. . . Can't they?
The hours stretched one into the other, blurred by the constant howl of wind beyond the Vigil's hull and the absolutely improper angle the ship was forced to descend at. Not to mention the fact that gravity had stepped out for the occasion, leaving Rarity's mane, hooves and stomach to simply flounder about in the most undignified manner possible. She kept involuntarily flicking her head or raising a hoof to convince her curls to adhere to the regimen they'd agreed upon, but it was a sorely lost cause.
Her eyes tracked around the bridge, noting the tension, the fear, the dismay, the quiet desperation. She lingered on the purple ball of dragon scales wrapped in Applejack's arms. The lines around Rarity's mouth tightened. Doesn't Twilight know what she's doing? She thought to herself. Surely she must understand the pain and worry she's causing all of us.
Her stomach growled then, a deep grumble that seemed to say I agree. What was she thinking? About a dozen eyes fixed on her, and Rarity felt a hot flush rise to her cheeks.
Applejack chuckled. “Yup. Reckon we could all use some chow.”
“Abso-friggin'-lutely.” Dash nodded sagely just before her hoof shot to her nose. “Not it.”
“I'll go.” Sun Shade offered.
“Naw.” Applejack shifted, revealing a sleeping Spike. “I'd like to stretch my hooves, if y'all don't mind.”
He appeared so small and vulnerable in that moment, she couldn't resist. “I'll take him.” Rarity offered.
Applejack unhooked her harness and drifted lightly towards her, looking for all the world like the slowest pegasus alive. Rarity gently took the dragon into her arms, feeling the warmth beneath the hard scales.
“Be back in a jiffy.” Applejack braced herself against the hatch, pulled it open with a grunt, and floated up into the hallway.
Pinkie Pie had taken to jumping as hard as she could, so that her tether snapped her back down to the floor. “Isn't it strange that we all float down here?”
“What's strange is how you think.” Dash retorted.
Rarity had been slowly but surely getting a headache just behind her temples. “Aren't you worried even the slightest about Twilight?” She asked before Pinkie could respond to Dash's barb. “Or any of us, for that matter?”
“Of course I'm worried.” Pinkie nibbled on her tether strap in thought. “I guess I just believe in Twilight. I believe that she'll do the right thing.”
Rarity stroked the sleeping whelpling's green spines. “I wish I shared your faith, Pinkie.” She muttered.
At the helm, Cloud blinked blearily and shook her head, making her feathers puff out. “Kelbrri, does it look like the slope is curving up ahead?”
The gryphon beside her squinted. “It's harrrd to tell. Should I divert power to the forrrward engines now?”
“Wait for my mark. The air should thicken the closer we get to the bottom. Hopefully the turbines can generate some lift down here.”
Rarity shivered. The cold had receded somewhat, but the thought of getting any nearer to the darkened landscape made her feel intensely uncomfortable. On second thought she tore her gaze from the bay windows, focusing instead on the cold figure of the Princess, her horn aglow and her face ascowl. The alicorn hadn't twitched a muscle in hours. Rarity shivered again. On third thought she focused on Spike, who was snoring just a little. He twitched, his scaly toes curling and uncurling a few times before settling into a deeper sleep. She smiled.
Kelbrri made a clicking noise with her beak. “Hurrrr. . . Yes, I think I see it. The currrve is becoming morrre prrronounced.”
The steel gryphon beside her adjusted her grip on the flight sticks. “Engage forward engines. Let's slow this bird down. Maybe find out just how bad an idea this. . . What in the Forgefire is that?”
Rarity glanced up to see a second layer of darkness overtake them from behind, sweeping forward to consume the landscape below. She gasped. “The sun! It's setting!” At the same time a rumble began beneath her hooves, and she slid towards the windows as the airship began to slow.
“Bad timing, Princess. . .” Cloud muttered.
“We did nothing.” Luna countered. “The world has hours yet to spin.”
“Then UN-set the sun!” Cloud shouted angrily. “We can't see in this mess anymore!”
“'Tis not so simple!” But the glow around Luna's horn intensified, shining outward upon the path ahead.
Strewn boulders loomed. “Look out!” Dash shouted just as Cloud yanked hard on her levers, but not in time. A juddering impact twisted the Vigil off course, accompanied by the crunch of wood and the squeal of metal. Some of the humming stopped as the airship skirted sideways, dragging Rarity to the end of her tether. She clutched Spike even harder to her chest. The eerie quiet of wind seemed to echo with screams.
Spike blinked awake. “Mmm. . . Wha?”
“Hold on to someth-” Cloud's shout was cut short by another impact, this one near the back end of the Vigil, spinning it violently. Bodies ragdolled across the floor as the entire world blurred. Luna's horn became a blinding cynosure, slicing through the dark. Outside, debris flung itself skyward as, enveloped in Luna's shields, the Vigil collided with the ground once, twice, followed by a horrific scraping noise as it rumbled to a stop.
The ship had barely settled into a slight nose-first slant before Sun Shade was on her hooves. “The Crew!” She coughed as dust plumed. “If anypony was belowdecks. . .”
“On it!” Rainbow Dash uncoupled herself and blurred out of sight.
“Is everypony okay?” Pinkie Pie asked from where she lay on her back. “Anypony hurt?”
“I think we're fine.” Sun Shade answered, leaping over to where Cloud and kelbrri had been tossed. She helped them to their feet. “We're fine, right?”
Luna's magic dispelled the gloom, revealing blinking eyes and dust-covered manes. “We appear whole.”
“Then I'll go with Rainbow, in case anypony was hurt.” Fluttershy stopped next to the Princess. “If you can hold the windows.”
Luna nodded. “We will suffice. Go.” But the pegasus was already leaving.
Pinkie struggled to disengage her harness through a heavy sigh. “At least we know the drill. Everypony away from the windows, stick together, watch out for mushy crawly things, blah blah blah.”
Rarity stammered, gasping at the empty space between her hooves. “Sp-” Her gasp drew in a rough breath full of dust. Hacking coughs interrupted her. Throat raw and eyes streaming, she grated, “Spike! Spike?! Spike you answer me this instant!”
The silence filled with a seeping dread. This couldn't be happening.
The dark corridors didn't slow Fluttershy down. Her hoofsteps were confident as she cantered through the gloom and the few glints of light that managed to filter through the portholes. She took the stairs with her wings cupped and landed in a skid, wondering which direction Dash might have gone. Two corridors met in a T near the kitchen, and the transverse hall was dark and cold as a tomb. “Hello?” She called out.
She paused to listen while the Vigil creaked and complained. Something clattered to the floor nearby. And. . . muffled voices drifted somewhere in the distance, followed by a loud crash. Without hesitation Fluttershy launched herself down the darkest corridor in pursuit of the noise. She slid around a bend, and dim lantern light revealed four figures clustered in front of a door. The wall had buckled, squeezing the corridor into a narrow space. A small part of the floor had torn out, separating her from the unfolding scene. In the dim light the blood looked black, like syrup. A dark gryphon with glossy feathers whose name she'd forgotten held Dash by her forelegs. “Keep pressure on the wound!”
“Like this?”
“Push harder!”
“Okay.” She'd never heard Dash's voice quaver like that before.
Beneath Dash's cyan hooves Applejack's coat appeared dull and lifeless, matted with fresh blood. It was tough to tell if she was breathing. Another pegasus, someone from the crew who had been hovering in the doorway, turned and vanished back into the storeroom before Fluttershy could make out who it was.
Fluttershy leaped across the shredded floor, glimpsing the inky shadows of the curse through the gaps below. The subtle tug on her mind she shrugged off easily; her friend's injuries devoured all other details. She stumbled as she landed, but even righting herself she could see the deep gash up Applejack's shoulder, and a shallower one on her head. They were both obscured as Rainbow Dash tried desperately to stop the bleeding with just her hooves. But the farm mare was still breathing.
Dash exhaled harshly when she lifted her head and met Fluttershy's gaze. She blew her bangs out of her face. “Hey Flutters. Is, uh, is she going to make it?”
Fluttershy nodded. But as she glimpsed the bright red cutie mark where she would lay her hooves, she also glanced up. The lantern light spilled into the storeroom, revealing a spar of rock like an obelisk that had gutted the Vigil, tearing through the underside of the airship and revealing its innards to the poisoned landscape. What had once been boxes and crates and massive freezers filled with food was now in shambles. The stone itself writhed with shadows, but that was not what had caught Fluttershy's attention. Clear Sky stood with his back to them, poised upon the edge of the remains of the floor, staring as though entranced by what he saw. The shadows must have been calling to him.
Clear Sky stood poised like a diver, the remnants of the floor bowing a bit beneath his weight. Fluttershy must have gasped, because Dash's head whipped around. “Hey!” She shouted, her wings spread.
Sky didn't respond. He just spread his forelimbs and toppled forward as Dash grappled onto him, spun and launched him with all four limbs. Sky shot through the doorway and into the hall, hitting the wall and sliding into a slouch. Dash's front hooves had left bloody prints on his ribs.
The gryphon's voice was like a lash. “Sky! Have you lost your damn mind?”
“What were you thinking?” Dash added, even though she was looking down too, searching for whatever had caught Clear Sky's eye. With a shake of her head, Dash landed on the busted section of floor. “There's nothing dow-” With a loud, dry series of cracks the floor crumbled beneath Dash's hooves.
“Rainbow!” Fluttershy cried.
Dash hadn't fallen anywhere. The pegasus managed a wan smile. “Don't worry about this pony.” She hovered back over towards the doorway. “Just save Applejack.” On the word 'jack,' a tall freezer toppled ponderously, soundlessly forward, pinning Rainbow to the floor with a resounding crash.
“GAAAAHH!” Dash struggled to bite back screams, her ruby eyes wide.
Fluttershy flung herself at the steel box, bracing herself underneath a corner and shoving upwards with all four hooves, but the thing refused to budge. She doubled her efforts, squeezing moisture out of her eyes with the strain. She felt the weight move the tiniest fraction, and for a moment she felt strong, capable.
“Sky! Help us! In Krearrk's name, pull her out!” The gryphon had joined her, his voice right in her ear. Of course. Fluttershy should have known she'd never be strong enough to save anyone by herself.
Fluttershy felt the giant freezer, its cold edge digging sharply into her shoulder, shift a tiny bit more. Through a watery haze she watched Clear Sky pick himself up off the floor. The slack in his cheeks and forehead tightened as his eyes focused, and suddenly he was there, present in a way he hadn't been since Reeds had died in his arms. His expression fractured into grief; in returning to himself he'd brought the pain back too. But he did not hesitate to dive forward, grasping Dash by her outstretched hoof and pulling.
His grip slipped though, his hooves coming away slick with Applejack's blood.
Beside her, the gryphon grunted in obvious pain. “Hurry. . .”
Sky braced himself, grabbed Dash by the elbow this time and pulled backwards.
Dash screamed, her voice cracking at the end. “Stop! Stop stop stop pulling!” She hadn't budged.
Fluttershy backed away, her limbs trembling. The gryphon stopped straining too and he leaned, gasping against the freezer.
“It's my hip.” Dash grated out past her teeth. “The. . . the stupid handle's got my hip.”
Sky cringed back on his haunches, his eyes wild. He kept repeating the same thing over and over under his breath. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. . .”
The gryphon whose name she couldn't remember clacked his beak in frustration before he spoke. “Maybe we could build a lever. We find a long pole, right, and wedge it over a fulcrum. . .”
Dash closed her eyes. “No. G-get AJ outta here.” She panted.
Fluttershy protested. “Dash, we're not-” The floor shifted, cutting her off. A shelving rack collapsed in the back of the room, while a stack of crates toppled next to them, crashing to the floor and sliding, one by one, out of the hole in the bottom of the airship. They drew her eyes to the shadow-infested rock that had torn its way in. To Fluttershy's horror, the shadows were. . . feeling the ship around them. A few had already lit upon the floor and the walls, undulating like leeches. “Sweet Celestia. . .”
“Go!” Dash put as much breath as she could into the shout.
With a sharp nod, Fluttershy made up her mind. She turned and reached her hooves out to touch Applejack's prone form, desperately pushing her senses outward. Even though she'd braced herself for it, even though she'd done it several times over the past few days, it still caught her off-guard. Pain tore through her head and dug itself into her shoulder, a deep anguish that seared her nerves like a road map made of rent flesh. Her heart lurched unevenly as her pulse slowed to a crawl. The pain still took her breath away, but it no longer scared her. She had power here. She could feel the blunt trauma, exposed tissue, blood trying to clot. . . and there, the worst of the bleeding. She gently urged the flesh there to close, to heal over.
Another sharp snap made Fluttershy's eyes fly open. The store room floor had shifted again, and with a slow grinding sound the freezer began sliding backwards, dragging a screaming Dash with it. Fluttershy dove for her and grabbed her friend by the hoof, and she felt herself being dragged along too. Both Sky and the gryphon Skan was his name? Skean? with them bounded over their heads, and they set their shoulders against the far side of the freezer, stopping its slide.
Their voices were all Fluttershy could make out. “Grrr. . .” The gryphon growled under his breath. “This isn't happening. We need help!”
“Um, over there!” Sky's voice was thick with disuse.
“What? There's nothing. . . where are you going?”
The sound of several metal somethings clattering. “Here.”
“You barking nutjob! You almost cut me to ribbons!”
“Like this.”
The thunk of something sharp driving into wood. “Oh. . . cob-job, but it's brilliant. Toss me a couple. . .” More sharp thunks followed.
Their dialogue was lost on Fluttershy, who had fallen into a trance the moment she'd grabbed Dash's arm. She felt a pair of rib fractures as if they were her own. Abrasions, bruising. . . and that handle was dug in deep, just above her hips. That hurt more than anything else. The pain was a mute cry for help, but there was nothing she could do. She couldn't mend or nudge any one of these injuries until they could somehow lift the freezer off of her.
However, Fluttershy wasn't entirely powerless. While she could, she shared Dash's pain and eased some of her discomfort. While they couldn't move her, while maybe they couldn't save her, she could at least keep Dash from going into shock. And she could keep her from being alone.
She was staring right into those eyes, embers in the lantern light. “Go.” Dash was whispering, urging. “Help AJ. Come back for me. I'll make it. I'm. . . I'm not gonna die from some stupid. . . lame fridge. Please. . .”
The voices on the other side sharpened with panic. “Skan, look!”
“It's. . . It's coming inside. Guys! It's coming! The dark stuff is spreading! Tarsi's keel, it's everywhere. . .”
“Just go.” Dash whispered.
Fluttershy's eyes hardened. “Skan. Clear Sky.” Her soft voice somehow cut through the atmosphere, dispelling some of the thick desperation in the air. “Get Applejack out of here. Take her to Pin Feather.”
The gryphon appeared next to her. “The insect? Are you seri-”
“Do it.” Fluttershy asserted. “Now. If Twilight shows up, have her come find us.”
Sky landed on her other side. “Um, are you sure?”
“Yes.” Fluttershy said. “I'm sure. We'll all make it through this alive, but I need you both to trust me. Okay?”
The stallion nodded. “Okay.” He glanced meaningfully at his companion.
Skan scowled. “I don't like it, but. . . I trust you. But you both better make it back up to us. I couldn't live with the guilt, understand?”
Fluttershy spared him a smile, if not a glance. “Fair enough. Now please, go.”
Without another word, the pair vanished. In a few moments, she heard Sky's voice call out, “We'll come back for you!”
Dash's eyes followed their departure. "P-pins will know what to do for her." She shook her head. “You should go too. I don't need you hanging around. . . ugh, cramping my style.” That's what her voice said, but her eyes held gratitude.
“I'm not leaving you alone, Rainbow Dash.” She said, hoping she sounded brave. Something Rarity had said a lifetime ago echoed in her head, from back when she was a different mare altogether. “For the moment you have no choice but to suffer our friendship.”
“Bad decision. . .” Dash muttered. But the corners of her mouth tugged up just a bit. Until another snap and an ominous creak startled them both. “Yeah, we're going with bad decision on this one.”
“What do you mean 'gone?'” Pinkie's shrill voice grated in Rarity's ears. “What does 'gone' mean? Gone gone?”
“What do you think it means?” Rarity all but shouted.
“The crash. . .” Sun Shade gasped. “The windows. Did he. . . fall out?”
Rarity was stricken. She could only tear her eyes off the crawling shadows to gaze at her arms, empty and ineffectual. She was the one. She had insisted on holding him. There was nobody else to blame.
“Oh no.” Pinkie covered her mouth with both hooves, her eyes misting over.
Kelbrri swallowed hard, and raised a tentative claw. “Um, I could trrry flying ourr back trrrail. Maybe I can spot something.”
Cloud reached out and dragged Kelbrri's arm down. “We don't even know what that crazy stuff is out there.” Her hackles raised slowly as she turned towards Princess Luna. “I mean, come on! What is it, exactly? Huh?! What, will it kill us to touch it? Does it feed? How come Twilight Sparkle-” She almost sneered the name, “-can blow through the stuff if its so dangerous?” Cloud slammed a balled-up fist of talons against the edge of the control panel. “Haven't enough of us died already? Just tell us what you know!”
Luna's distant look of concern shifted, a look of old, righteous fury replacing it. She paced fearlessly forward. “Or what, First Helmsgryph Clouded Gaze? Wilt thou strike me? Hmmm? Or gouge thy talons into our flesh? Wilt thy fear and frustration therefore be assuaged?” She bored her eyes into Cloud until the gryphon glanced down, averting her eyes. “Hmph.” Luna turned her back upon them all, and pitched her voice to the corners of the room. “Such is the nature of what we face. This darkness, 'tis the remnants of ancient spite and scorn. 'Tis the touch of a being far greater than we, and an ill unrelenting as the tide. You see. . .” Her voice grew heavy. “Even the Gods, given time, grow weary of their creations.”
“That's awful. . . really, truly awful for them.” Pinkie's ears drooped. “But. . . but what does that mean for Spike?” She implored.
Luna sighed. “This is what we believe. The weak of spirit will be consumed by the Darkness, their bodies twisted and eaten. The strong. . . The strong will find the same thing happening, except to their souls, where such damage might be all the more hideous.”
Pinkie sat back on her haunches and wrapped her arms about herself, as though she was in danger of falling apart. Rarity fell to her knees before Luna, imploring. “Please. . . Please. You have to find him. You have to bring him back.”
Luna's eyes closed very, very slowly. “We. . . I cannot.”
“Why?” Rarity's desperation filled the room. “You've done it before, haven't you? When we first met you, You were. . . Like them! Weren't you? A creature of nightmares and darkness!”
Luna sighed from the tips of her hooves, and her head drooped to the floor. “I cannot.”
“To Tartarus with your cannot!” Rarity was screaming now, not even trying to hold back. “Why? Twilight can! Right!? Yes?! Why can't you? Is she so much better than you are?”
“Yes.” Luna's quiet reply took Rarity by surprise. “Yes, she is. Her spirit. . . it hasn't been broken. Not yet.”
Rarity deflated, finding her tirade suddenly offensive. Very softly, very gently, as though she had just looked down and noticed she trod upon hallowed ground, Rarity spoke. “And you have?”
“I have.” Luna echoed. Her eyes shimmered in the dim light. “We-I know what acts I would commit with such power. I am. . . aware of who and what I would become. I am broken, and I cannot be trusted with such tools of destruction. Never again.”
Pinkie gasped. “I think I get it. It's not just an old way of talking like those ponys in plays. When you say 'we' instead of 'I,' you really mean more than one of you, don't you Princess?”
Luna nodded, but didn't answer directly. “In this, our sister had more wisdom than we. We learned she was wrong, and we assumed we must therefore be right. We were blind to the folly of complete certainty and self-justification. My darker self yet thirsts, and I dare not grant her the opportunity.”
It seemed to take a few moments for Rarity to grasp everything Luna said, everything she meant. She controlled her heaving breaths as best she could, willing herself not to panic, and certainly not to cry. “Okay.” She nodded, to the room if to nobody in particular. “Okay. I'll go.”
“What?” Pinkie yelped.
Sun Shade placed a hoof on Rarity's shoulder. “My dear, are you certain?”
“Spike is alone in this mess, and its all my fault.” Rarity sniffed, and rubbed at her eyes. “I must do this.”
“Do not!” Luna stood wide-eyed, her back turned upon the bay windows. “This Darkness will not bend so easily as one might think.”
Rarity stood her ground. “Then find a better plan! Or, with all due respect, Your Highness, get out of my way!”
An acrid scent of ammonia wafted in as a pair of pale forms reared out of the gloom and struggled their way onto the bridge. Luna could not have seen them dragging their way closer and closer to her tail as she spoke. “Elegant Rarity. . . thou hast not reconciled thy personal failures. Thy failure to emerge as a mare of esteem is in small part due to thy attachments in humble Ponyville. Thy love for thy friends is underscored with a secret resentment, and the Darkness would break thee. We can almost see the devastation a Nightmare Rarity would be capable of. We implore thee. . .” Luna's horn lit up the room with a deep azure glow, and the squishy shapes were flung hard back out the windows. “Choose not this path. 'Twill lead only to greater woe.”
Rarity's eyes narrowed. “You can't know that! Just because you can't handle it doesn't mean none of us can!” Rarity tossed her mane out of her face, reared in what she thought might have been a dramatic fashion, and charged. Luna, being taller, widened her stance and lit her horn aglow.
Just before they collided, a shrill and alien whistle began, a sound that slid up into piercing, mind-numbing frequencies before sliding into a long, low groan that shook the walls and rattled the floors. The unicorn and the alicorn found themselves side by side staring out into the cloud-covered darkness beyond the windows.
Cloud peeked gingerly over the edge of the control panel. “What in the fires of creation is that?!”
As dim heat lightning flashed in the clouds, it illuminated a long, undulating shape eeling through the air towards the wreck of the Vigil. It was unreal in the way it defied gravity, defied its own impossible mass. It was closing the distance with deceptive swiftness, strange whiskers trailing alongside a gaping, oval maw. It was humungous, dwarfing the Vigil by a matter of scale. Rarity was forcibly reminded of the leviathan they'd encountered out at sea. With a shudder she realized what must have found them.
She had no trouble imagining this creature eating the world.
It was here.