Justice Itself

by Autocharth

Act IV - Ch. 40 Justice Itself

Chapter 40 Justice Itself

Paladin opened his eyes, and beheld eternity.

His hooves scuffed the shining platform, an inch from an endless fall. Light shone from distant clouds, bouncing between the spires below that reached into the horizon. He could just see, if he squinted, the wall that ran from the great gate of flawless diamond.

Behind him, hummed the quiet song of the Arch. His ears warmed at the ephemeral touch of the divine choir, drawing a sigh from the suddenly limp pegasus. His wings dragged on the cool metal as he turned to look, admiring the spires that shot up in vain to reach his lofty position, the clouds drifting between them, obscuring the walkways and bridges that spanned the towers.

The High Heavens had always been most beautiful, from atop the Silver Spire.

“Beautiful, as ever it has been,” he mused. A gentle wind rushed through his wings, adding a faint whistle to the choir. “Don’t you agree?”

Metal stepped softly, somehow, on the silvery platform. Paladin looked back, appreciating his height for the first time as his gaze trailed up his long, shiny legs to his chest and, at last, came to a rest on his head.

For a given definition of ‘his’, at least.

Tyrael inclined his head. “Indeed. This is one of our finest memories of the Heavens.”

When the glow of the Arch began to hurt after a few quiet minutes, Paladin let his gaze return to the endless vista.

“You don’t have any wings.”

Though he couldn’t see it, Paladin knew Tyrael was nodding again.

“This...isn’t a dream, is it?”

Tyrael said nothing.He just watched the pony, peering from his hood with unseen eyes..

Paladin sighed, closing his eyes. “Is it?” he repeated, a light note of hope in his voice.

“Not quite,” Tyrael finally answered. “But then, we already know that.”

Snorting, Paladin glanced back. “I could hope, though. For all I know, this could be some strangely real dream. Drawn from my memories. Maybe all this-” He waved a wing at the Arch and the sky. “-is just a memory, and nothing else.”

“Maybe,” the Archangel conceded, his neutral voice ringing with an unnatural echo that failed to hide his scepticism.

“Tirek probably just knocked me out. You said it’s not a dream, but of course a dream would say that. A dream doesn’t want to admit it is a dream, because then it will stop. I’m just dreaming, I’m just...dreaming.” Paladin laughed. The forced, empty sound hung in the air, mocking him until he stopped.

Still, Tyrael stood perfectly still. The wind stirred his hood, his tabard fluttering, but not so much as a muscle twitched.

‘Of course, he wouldn’t have muscles. He doesn't need to move,’ Paladin scolded himself. But, he remembered, this was a dream. It didn’t have to make sense, because it was a dream. Of that Paladin was very, very certain.

“Such stillness is truly strange, after we’ve spent so long with a body that is always twitching unconsciously, tensing and clenching and relaxing,” mused Tyrael thoughtfully. “Yet we spent far longer as an angel, so surely this would be our natural state.”

Paladin shrugged, trying to ignore the angel. “Dreams don’t need to make sense,” he muttered.

“This is not-”

“Shut up!”

Tyrael fell silent. The roar slowly faded, echoing from distant towers, until Paladin opened eyes that had been squeezed tightly shut.

“Don’t say it.”

Regret in his voice, Tyrael murmured, “This is not a dream. We know it is not.” His hooded face turned, as if to grant Paladin some measure of privacy, even if it was only an illusion of the sense.

Paladin glared. Not at Tyrael, but at the skies beyond. He glared outward, because he could not bear to direct his anger inward. He knew it. He could feel the truth of Tyrael’s words, but the knowledge burned at his consciousness. He shied away from embracing it.

“What happened to Ardleon?” He didn’t want to hear the answer, but...he needed to know.

There was only one answer Tyrael could give. So he gave it; “Ardleon survived, for a time. This world accepted him, as it has accepted us, and in the face of destruction he was called by the Heart. He escaped Tirek’s blast, and found what Tirek has been searching for all this time.”

“Searching?” Paladin stirred from his distant stare. “What for?”

“What birthed a world.” Tyrael gestured, a sweep of his hand taking in the breadth of the High Heavens before him. “We of the High Heavens, we alone could never create stable worlds with the Eye of Anu, the Worldstone, no more than demons. How, then, did the world Equestria lies in come into existence?”

A shiver ran down Paladin’s spine, a sensation he could only have imagined in...in a dream. He shook his head, limp wings closing to hug his barrel protectively. If Tyrael noticed, he gave no sign, simply continuing his tale.

“The power to create a whole world...Tirek thirsted for that power. He failed to take it when he arrived in its infancy, but this time he was so close.” Tyrael’s hand snapped into a fist. “But that power is alive. The Heart of Anu lives, spinning darkness and light, corruption and purity, into a single weave from which whole souls are born, and it allows no interference here.”

“I see…” His hoof idly traced a pattern along the ground, hoof pressed against the engraved line. “That’s why it rejected u- you, when you arrived, and Ardleon too.”

“Until it accepted him, as it has accepted us. We are welcome in its domain, and in his time of need, it opened a path for Ardleon. He managed to teleport to it, and through its connections to all things of this world, it gave him the chance to make his sacrifice.” Tyrael’s other hand curled into a fist, life and emotion colouring his voice at last. “A sacrifice only we have the chance to justify with our actions.”

It was too much. “Stop it.”

“No.”

“Stop.” Paladin’s voice grew hard.

“We cannot.” Tyrael’s deepened.

Dream-metal cracked under the pressure of his hoof, beautiful engravings marred forever. “This is no us. There is no we.”

To this, Tyrael said nothing, folding his arms over his chest, silent and judging. There was a nature to the silence, sorrowful and regretful, that just made it worse, because the judgment was of pity, not condemnation.

“There isn’t!” insisted Paladin, finally looking at Tyrael. “I’m not you. You are not me! This. Is just. A dream!” Hot tears threatened to break free of his hold, his eyes squeezed shut. His chest heaved, his wings’ hold growing tighter. “I am Paladin! Tyrael is dead.”

“If you so choose.”

Metal cracked again. “No! Its not my choice! It has simply happened! I’ve changed! The Tyrael who came to Equestria is gone. There’s only me.” He shivered, turning closed eyes away, as though the light of the Arch might force them open. “I’m mortal. I am a pony. I’m not an angel, I can’t...I can’t be you.”

“I...am sorry.” Where the ring of quiet confidence had emboldened Tyrael’s voice, there was only regret. “We- ...you know that may be true, but Ardleon has given us the chance to-”

“I don’t care!” Wrenching his eyes open, Paladin tried to somehow convey in just his look of despair the feelings struggling to find their voice in him. “I don’t care about being you! Don’t you get it? I don’t want to be Tyrael!”

There were no eyes for him to meet, yet he found Tyrael’s gaze. ‘Damn him, damn it, why must we- he...should be angry, should tell me I have to do it...’

“I’m Paladin now. I’m...I’m a pegasus pony. I have friends. I have a mare I love, and I don’t want to leave her. Can’t you just go away? Let this be a dream. Let this be nothing but my mind playing tricks on me. Let-”

“-them die?”

He wasn’t sure which of them had said it. It just...hung there, the air heavy, and slowly his head fell until it hung with shame and despair.

“I am nothing without you, Paladin,” said Tyrael, his voice quiet and kind, sad and somber. “The choice is yours. Ardleon has given us the chance to save them, but his is not the only sacrifice required. Justice cannot return. You are my wings, Paladin, and only you can let me rise once more.”

A harsh, bitter laugh, a cackle of despair, burst from Paladin. “Me? I thought without me was exactly what it required! Because that’s what’s going to happen! I won’t be around anymore! I’ll be gone! Just...just some glowy winged, shiny, metal bastard with a sword and a hero complex!”

For a moment, Paladin wondered if it was raining.

“I don’t want to go,” he croaked, dead laugh trailing off.

“I know.”

“But I will.” Paladin closed his eyes. “Because if I don’t…”

He didn’t need to say it. Tyrael’s mercy was silence in answer. They both knew.

Finally, the Archangel spoke. “Only you can make this choice,” he said. “You don’t have to do it.”

Paladin shook his head. “I do. Because it’s my choice, and it’s the right thing to do.”

Yet still, it rained. Because it was alright for it to rain right now. It was the last chance he would ever have...for it to rain.

“I love her.” He could see her now. Beautiful and kind. Shy, and loving. A mare he could spend a mortal lifetime with, and never regret a moment of it. He repeated, as if it might change the world, because it should, “I love her.”

“And your love is beautiful,” agreed Tyrael, his voice whisper-quiet with admiration and respect.

Paladin looked up, blinking past the tears that ran down his cheeks, dripping past fading hooves. He could feel it happening. As it had to, because it was the right thing to do.

“Save her.”

Tyrael nodded, solemn. “I will.”

Paladin kept his eyes trained on the Archangel, on the luminescence spreading as tendrils of blue-white energy grew. A sad, small smile came to his lips, even as he faded.

“It has been an honor, Tyrael.”

Tyrael stood alone. His wings drifted slowly behind him. Slowly, he leaned down, hand out. The pool of tears spread at his touch, until his hand was outlined in it. When the tears had spread all they could, he rose and turned to gaze upon the fading image of the Arch.

“No, Paladin,” whispered the Archangel. “The honor was mine. You will not be forgotten.”

His wet hand became a fist.

“Let Justice be done.”

The world stood frozen.

Above Ponyville, the sky waited with baited breath.

Beneath Ponyville, the land stood still.

Within Ponyville, Tyrael, Archangel of Justice reborn, spread his wings and gave voice to his soul. Tirek stood in paralysed fear and fury, his shock unhidden. His mind reeled, and he took a step back involuntarily.

Warm wind rushed passed the ponies, minotaur, griffon and dragon. They hung limp in their bonds, eyes fixed to the resplendent figure in their midst.

“Tyrael…” Twilight whispered, awe in her voice.

“Paladin…” Fluttershy gasped, pain and grief warring in her voice for dominance.

Tyrael reached one hand out, subtle white light caressing metal digits. As if an invisible tether linked them, Ardleon’s planted blade leapt from the earth. The ringing as it joined his palm and his fingers sealed around the hilt broke the stillness.

Fear became power. Hatred became focus. Tirek roared, wordless rage spilling from his lips. Shadows grew around his hands, sloppy, barely contained energy erupting forth as he jabbed his palms at Tyrael.

Ardleon’s blade sung in the air, sliding into position before the Archangel, its point aimed at the sky. He twitched the blade, as if catching a light in the enduring dusk. The soft light around his hand touched the reflective blade, and the glow exploded.

“Shadows are broken in the the light, Tirek.” Tyrael moved like quicksilver. He became a flash of silver and gold, clashing with the beam of darkness. An unearthly shriek shook the ground, but beneath it was the sound of bodies tumbling to the ground.

Applejack was the first on her hooves, shock giving way to sheer bloody-mindedness. The instant her bonds evaporated in the impossibly bright glare, she summoned her armour. It was evidently not all protecting, but she threw herself in front of the others, a bulwark between them and the battle about to unfold.

“Get everypony outta the way! Ah think things are about to get a mite dangerous ‘round these parts,” she barked, jabbing her hoof at the library. “Back in there, now!”

Apple Bloom yelped, thrown onto her sister’s back and joined by Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo seconds later, all three staring at Tyrael’s ever-moving wings. They clung together, shock doing the work of a dozen angry adults to silence them.

“I got Gilda!” Rainbow Dash forced the griffon up, grunting at the weight. She teleported, leaving the heap of unhappy griffon on Twilight’s bed. “You stay right there, or I’ll teleport you into a cage or something!”

Big Mac was next, and Iron Will with him, the powerfully built pair protesting. It did them no good, left in the library just as Applejack barged through and deposited the fillies in front of them.

“No!” Tirek stretched his arms out. Through half-blind eyes, his shadows shot towards the fleeing ponies. “You will not escape me!”

Tyrael slashed, blade biting into the ground. One shadowy hand broke, shattered, but the other shot past. The shadow leapt up, curling around a yellow hoof and pulled. Rarity, a step ahead, turned back in time to glimpse Fluttershy’s wide, frightened eyes, before the timid mare was yanked back with a shriek.

“Fluttershy! Put her down, you brute!” Rarity’s eyes narrowed, but her chance to strike back was lost. Tyrael stepped between them, voice echoing back to her without turning.

“Get inside. I will save her,” he commanded, raising his sword. His stance shifted. “Go.”

He didn’t wait to see if she obeyed. Grass whispered with his passing, bending in the wind. The Archangel charged without a sound, not a single footstep. His gaze fixed unerringly on Tirek, he attacked without hesitation. The first blow bounced from Tirek’s axe, hefted one handed. Sparks rained from the second, grinding across the makeshift axe-blade.

Then Tirek raised Fluttershy, fear morphing into a smug sneer. “Do you dare strike an innocent, ang-”

The blow came without a moment’s hesitation. White energy rushed from Tyrael’s hand, swarming the blade that cut through the air. Too late Tirek reacted, retreating with only his meat shield held to ward the angel off.

For an instant, time slowed as Fluttershy watched the blade swing towards her. Grief, loss, fear, they mixed into an unholy mess in her heart and for just a moment she wondered if, after all, she had meant nothing. The sword was all she saw, and knew she would soon feel the cold steel part her fur and bite into her flesh.

Tirek screamed. He flung her away mindlessly, slapping his bleeding palm against his axe’s haft. He staggered back, sharp eyes glaring at the Archangel, or where he had been. There was no Tyrael and, the demon saw, no bisected pony. He looked for the follow up attack that was not coming, certain of the strike.

None came. Tyrael was there when Fluttershy was thrown. Cool metal was no pleasant landing place, and Tyrael felt her head bounce from it as his arm held the unharmed pegasus in place. His wings shone, brilliant beacons as he retreated with his precious payload.

Pressed against unworthy armour, a thin tabard separating her from the Archangel’s shell, Fluttershy peered into his hood in search of answers. Her sense strained for the barest hint. Where a pure bond had been before was only a mist, an obscuring fog taking Paladin from her sight and returning to her this...not-Paladin.

“Go inside.” His softly spoken command broke Fluttershy’s trance. She blinked, only now seeing the library tree next to her. Her hooves touched the ground. Tyrael stood straight once more. “Please.”

Flames roared, flaring up in time with a bellow from Tirek. Whatever Fluttershy might have said, her answer was lost in the  onset of volcanic hellfire.Tyrael turned from her without another sword. His momentum was thrown in the sword. Its tip merely grazed the oncoming inferno yet it hammered the blast away. Blistering waves of flame blew over slithering tides of shadow. Each swing struck against the assault, the Archangel impossibly precise in his blows. Shadows broke apart, magic thrown to the wind as Tyrael tore through the brutal counter-attack.

“This is not possible!” A second hand joined the first in flooding darkness at Tyrael. “You will not deny me now, Tyrael!”

The Archangel slashed. The cut didn’t end at the edge of his blade; it extended, a cutting edge of light leading through the torrent. Demonic blood spilled, ending the tide, with not a moment wasted as Tyrael launched forward.

The first attack rebounded from Tirek’s hasty parry. A feint to the right drew him off-balance, and blood splattered, demon-flesh parting around angelic steel. With a roar of pain the demon brought his axe across in a decapitating blow that flew right over Tyrael’s head. Another wound was the demon’s reward, until he forced Tyrael back with a wild swing.

“Even bloated on stolen power, you were never a warrior,” Tyrael said contemptuously. The air rang with the clash of their weapons, his single nimble blade darting around the slow, heavy axe. His feet never touched the ground as he glided around his foe, speed and skill deflecting his opponent’s crushing blows. “Superior weight and power mean nothing without the skill to wield them.”

Rainbow’s brow furrowed. She looked down, carefully avoiding the broken glass on the window seat. “Did...did he just call Tirek fat?”

“Since I’m hardly going to turn my back to you, you’ll need talent for more than a treacherous dagger to defeat me. Surrender, and mercy shall temper Justice.” Tyrael let the axe pass him, lashing out in return and retreating before the next slow blow.

“Mercy?” sneered Tirek, following ruthlessly. “My, you have changed! The cold justice of the Heavens has thawed? Has the fight fled you? Is your heart weak with ‘mercy’ now?”

“My heart is stronger than ever.” In the space of a blink, Tyrael was inside his foe’s guard. White-fire burned across his weapon. “The strength of a mortal heart!”

The sword sank into Tirek. He backhanded Tyrael away, roaring in pain as the blade was ripped free, doing as much damage as it had going in.

“We need to help Pally!” Pinkie insisted, watching the fight next to Rainbow Dash. “Oooh, that looked like it hurt! GO ON! SOCK HIM IN THE FACE!”

Rainbow Dash rubbed her ear, glaring. “Quiet down, you’re making my ears hurt.”

Rarity yanked her friends down by their tails. “We cannot simply rush out there. That hardly helped last time!” She glanced back at the fillies, then back to her friends. “How did Paladin ever become...that?”

“That’s really him?” Big Mac pressed a hoof to his forehead. He shot a look at Applejack, and she shrugged helplessly.

“Sorry, Mac, but Ah guess all the interestin’ stuff happenin’ had to catch up with ya eventually.” She gave him an apologetic look from the doorway, her armoured form sealing it as effectively as any door. “Anypony got any ideas?”

“With what? I thought it was intense when Ardleon was fighting Tirek, but that has nothing on this! Oh, shit, dodge, dodge!” called Rainbow Dash, waving a hoof through the window . She was dragged down again.

“We can still use the Elements, I’m sure of it. Maybe if we watch, we can work out how he made himself immune?” Twilight broke Rarity’s hold on Dash’s tail. Ignoring the smug look on Rainbow’s face, she shook her head. “We need to do something.”

“Pow, straight to the moon!” Pinkie looked down, and everypony was too tired to question how or when she had gotten next to Rainbow Dash. “Are you sure? Because I wanna help, but I think Pally is win- oooow, maybe not.”

Tyrael skipped back across the earth, his feet dragging in the dirt as he struggled to recover. His borrowed blade quivered, tremors reminding him of his foolishness.

‘This is not El’druin.’ He caught the next slash on the tip of his sword, deceptively delicate motions used to redirect the force of the swing away from him. Shadows exploded, the speeding sphere of destruction deflected only at the last moment by his white-glowing right hand backhanding it away.

A smug smirk began to creep its way onto Tirek’s face. “You’re tired.” It wasn’t a question, or a guess. The demon chuckled. “You may have returned, but this world already saps your power. A million souls preserve me, and your failure of a servant bound the hatemongers to himself. What do you have to fight it?”

Tyrael swung, sliced, and thrust in answer. Already he was weakening, his power reignited from a dying source not enough to return him to his full might. Yet he felt no drag, no resistance as he trod upon this world. Were he capable of the gesture, Paladin would have smiled.

“You underestimate me, and the judgement of the Heart. I have been accepted.” He feinted, then came sweeping in to carve a bloody furrow through black fur. Tirek reared, expression contorting with pain, and lashed out with fire. The Archangel dodged with effortless grace, though the burst of molten fire scored his shoulder and burned between his wings.

A dark look came to Tirek’s eyes. He cast a baleful glare at the sky, eyeing the frozen orbs above with contempt. “I am above such things. They had lacked the will to slay me. With all your talk of mercy, so do you.”

He swept his sack up, the bulging, quivering bag of rough material hanging from his fist. With a shake, the wail of the damned came screeching out. Voices assaulted Tyrael, freezing the Archangel in place for a moment too long.

Save me!
Let it end, please, end it!
Death death give death let me death safe sleep death!
I’m not strong enough! Please!
Kill him now kill him kill Tirek revenge now!

“Ugh…” He staggered under the weight of their pleas. A million voices screamed out for justice. They begged for the peace of death and the satisfaction of justice heaped upon their killer. Tyrael rose from his bent position in time to catch the first swing across the chest rather than the head. A fence was obliterated as the Archangel was thrown back, splinters flying in every direction.

“Can you hear them?” Tirek approached slowly, his confidence rising as his foe struggled to his feet. The sack shook again, ghostly hooves, claws and a hundred other appendages pushing to be free at the same moment. “How many voices do you hear? A million? All screaming for the justice they were denied in life. Begging for my death. Yet even driven to madness, they are still...innocent.”

He spat, a pearly globe tainted orange that sizzled until one of Tyrael’s wings whipped it away. The glowing tendrils dimmed, brightening only as Tyrael raised his weapon once more.

“A Justice I will deliver.” Tyrael matched his proclamation with each blow. His sword slashed the air. Rubble, debris, anything not nailed down rose and struck at Tirek as one, cored by a glowing slice of energy.

A cone of fire engulfed the air before Tirek. He roared in laughter. “You think to hold me off with trash, Tyrael? How the mighty have fallen!”

This particular example of the mighty was in no position to hear Tirek’s boast, or care if he had. Tyrael rose above, yet when he spoke there was not even a whisper of it between the angel and the demon. In fact, it appeared in a library, on the figurative ‘mouth’ of the image that swam into focus. The wavering visage of the Archangel turned, words issuing from an unseen mouth.

“Be prepared,” Tyrael’s image commanded. “I have discovered Tirek’s means to thwart the Elements. When I destroy the sack, strike.”

Questions fired in every direction, but Tyrael’s image faded with an aggravating lack of answers.

“Sack? What, is he gonna stab Tirek in the ba-” By sheer chance, Rainbow Dash’s mouth snapped just. It had nothing to do with the glares directed her way by Rarity, Applejack, Big Macintosh and Twilight.

Spike eyed Twilight suspiciously, but right now was frankly no time to argue about why she had joined in on keeping Dash’s language G-rated. Instead, he said, “Uh, maybe you should get ready to do it? Tirek’s got that weird sack with him all the time, maybe he means that?”

Twilight nodded. “Of course! Girls, outside, Elements ready! Everypony else, stay here.”

Rising from where she had retreated with Octavia, Vinyl began to protest. She found herself cut short by a grey hoof pulling her back.

“Don’t argue. Just this once...don’t argue.” Octavia lay her head on Vinyl’s shoulder. “You’ve done more than enough, Vinyl. Let the heroes do their part now.”

“Paladin was a hero…” The whisper brushed past them, too quiet to hear beyond the vaguest of mutters. Her mane falling from where it had shielded her expression, Fluttershy blinked wet eyes.

“Well duh! Which is why we have to go do our part! We’re heroes, he’s a hero, it’s like science!” Pinkie looked to the window, agonised by their inaction. “Come oooon!”

Fluttershy’s voice was mournful. “Pinkie...I...I don’t know if…” The vibrant emotions buzzed at her, and even as her own doubts grew, Fluttershy hesitated at stripping Pinkie’s confidence.

‘I don’t know if that is Paladin anymore,’ was what she wanted to say. She wanted to be honest. The words hovered on her lips, her fears, her grief, nearly released into the world.

“She’s right,” Fluttershy murmured. The hole where her bond with Paladin had been ached with painful emptiness, reminding her what a lie that was.

“Help shmelp! This is our town, and we’re the heroes here! He’s helping us, so everypony get ready to be helped, got it?” Aggression laced Rainbow’s words, her gaze fixed on the duelling figures, and Tirek in particular. “This time the Elements will send him to the stone age, just like Discord!”

“Quite so! Enough is enough!” agreed Rarity. She smiled tightly, her expression grim. “There won’t be any more nonsense from this monster!”

“An’ that’s the honest truth.” Kicking up dust with a stamp of her hoof, Applejack began to lever herself up to the window.

All around her, Fluttershy felt the confidence growing as her friends echoed the sentiment. She smiled, small as it was, at the warmth and strength of the emotions. Yet as she smiled, the heightened energy within their bonds simply served to highlight the gap where Paladin had been.

She frowned again, the faintest tingle registering on her senses. She ‘leaned’ in, the familiar physical gesture the best she could manage to interpret focusing on the otherworldly sense. For just moment, against the blaze of emotions around the gaping absence, something glimmered-

“Fluttershy, come on, I think he’s doing it!”

Magic seized her, dragging her up and leaving her realisation lost.

Speed and agility kept Tyrael ahead of his foe’s superior reach. Minor wounds bled and slowed Tirek, though there was little difference as far as the Archangel could tell. He swayed to the side, drawing back enough to force Tirek to follow. He slammed a heel into the ground, dirt spraying up. Tirek roared at the opening, and he threw himself into the trap with glee. His axe reached out, overextended in a greedy blow meant to leave Tyrael in two glowing, ruined halves.

Beneath the cool, calm control he extruded, Tyrael let his confidence rise to the fore. He struck. His wings burned with sudden blinding brilliance. Ardleon’s sword shone, white light lining it as it swung.

It would be purple prose to proclaim that ‘Tyrael became the wind’. It would be as flowery as a daisy salad to do any justice to the beauty of the movement. In the end, the essence was all that mattered, and the essence was thus; the Archangel struck, unerring. The world slowed down as the blade parted the thick brown weave. A rush of wind blew from it in a foul tide.

The tattered remains fell to the earth. All sound vanished. Even as he struggled to speak, Tyrael gazed into the swirling wound in reality. Down, down, his sight travelled. It pulsed in the air, countless cries of torment booming out. The torrent of souls that came rushing out forced him back, his arm raised to shield against the hurricane of spirits.

At the heart of the soul storm, Tirek stood, perfectly still, one hand raised to the sky.

“Now!” Tyrael roared. His blade rose once more, ready for the worst, prepared for failure. He stood against the gale, resolute.

Fluttershy was the last to slip from the window, her mane tugged this way and that by the twisting winds. Faces flashed past her, ghostly images swept away in an endless tide too fast for her to focus on any one expression. Her knees went weak, and her stomach rebelled. From all sides, emotions assaulted her. Such anguish and pain, suffering to which her body could only reply with a flood of rising bile.

“Fluttershy!” Pinkie called. She wrapped a hoof around her friend, propping her up. “Come on, ‘Shy! Put that Kindness into overgear! Rainbow beam time!”

With a shuddering breath, Fluttershy nodded. The Element of Kindness’s glow was soft but strong. It sparked, flashing in sympathy with the five other bright lights. She let it pick her up. Emotions soared on every side; her friends were opening themselves, and she returned in kind. They felt the Elements of Harmony resonate. It shook their chests, their hearts beating in time with the flow of magic. Six became one, aspects of a whole forming a whole greater than the sum of its parts.

Laughter, cheerful blue glow, bright and bubbling energy.

Kindness, gentle pink light, with a gentle caress and the touch of healing compassion at its heart.

Honesty, strong orange brightness that grew into a wall of strength to hold up any failing soul.

Generosity, its purple glow intense, that gave what was needed and was always ready to give more.

Loyalty, fierce red brilliance, blazed with unfaltering fury that smouldered in wait, ready to explode into action to aid at any instant.

Magic. Friendship. The heart of it all, the energy that bound them all together.

A rainbow of six colours bounced between them. From Element to Element to Element, it bounced and spun until it rose in a flurry of light and power. Twelve eyes became miniature suns reflecting the divine force before them.

The Rainbow of Harmony arched into the sky and came down with all the force of a god’s fist. Where it had merely purified and sealed, now it became a weapon. Rainbow met shadows, the swirl of darkness that swelled around Tirek. A roar of defiance shook their earth, sound transmuted to force, force became a wind that blew Tyrael back. He struck down.

The blade sunk, point first, into the dirt. Grass crunched beneath Tyrael’s fist, ground to mulch in the twitch of his gauntlet. There were no groans of pain or exhaustion, only a throb of weakness that beat at his shell from within. The light reached its crescendo before the weary angel, and then, the power of the Elements began to fade. Had he muscles, they would have relaxed.

Relaxed in vain, it must be admitted.

“It seems My fortune is endless.”

‘...Tirek?’ Tyrael felt the first stirrings of dismay. The voice echoed around him, deeper than ever, undeniably changed. Through the weakness, Tyrael slowly began to look up. The voices that tugged at his attention and called for him fell away, his senses locked on what had been TIrek.

In truth, Tirek had not grown in any physical sense. Power bloated his impression upon the world; the very air trembled around him, as if reality could barely withstand the weight of such might focused in a single being. When Tirek’s mouth opened to boom with laughter, his maw exposed a well of shadows that went far beyond any physical constraints.

“You came so close to discovering the truth, didn’t you?” He prodded in his strange, echoing voice. His nostrils flared, an intake of breath to release a deep sigh of satisfaction. “Isn’t it delicious, Tyrael? The smell of a million souls bound to me in unbreakable bonds. What ‘merciful’ world could cast me out at their expense?”

Ardleon’s blade tugged free of the dirt. Tyrael raised it, pointing forward. “What have you done?” he thundered, wings pulsing with fury. “What blasphemy is this?!”

The sky was gone. In its place, a world of souls spun. They were caught in a vortex that twisted without stop. There were no clouds. The sun and moon were lost. All Tyrael could see were souls of every size and shape. The spirits of dragons, a million ponies, griffons and donkeys, monkeys and apes, all swam above him. All screamed.

Tirek stepped closer, watching the point of the blade waver. The heart of the vortex moved with him. “Listen to them call. They cry out for justice...for revenge! Listen to their hate! Rejoice in this choir of suffering, Tyrael, for it is a rare privilege.”

The weight of expectation pressed down on him. Tyrael’s armoured shoulders slumped. Metaphor became reality, the gravity of their suffering weighing him down as he struggled to defend himself. The first blow that came struck him in the chest, a casual blast of energy that sent the Archangel sprawling.

‘It’s too much...all at once, right now, I’m not enough!’ thought Tyrael as he struck the ground. Above him they continued to swirl, their cries growing at the realisation that they could be heard, and the assault began anew. He had to answer them, to aid those who sought justice, yet his power flagged, spread thin trying to reach them all, and he felt his light weakening with each passing moment.

“Aren’t you going to help them?” mocked the ascendant demon. “Or are you too weak? Are their cries for help too much?”

“Be...silent..” Tyrael gasped. Something soft moved under the pressure of his hand as he pushed himself up. Tyrael’s gaze strayed as he struggled up, and looked into empty eyes.

Paladin lay without a word beneath him. Dull gray eyes held no life. Only the faintest rise of his chest gave evidence that the unresponsive pegasus was alive. Not so much as a twitch disturbed the otherwise still body. An empty shell, as Tyrael feared he might soon became with the strain growing.

“I think I’ll enjoy this a little longer, actually. I’ve never had an Archangel at my mercy before. Don’t you regret breaking that little sack you were hiding in? That useless rotting flesh you had the gall to treat as your own.” Tirek chuckled. “I’m sure you do now! I wonder how many souls in need you could handle at your prime...”

It’s been so long please free us don’t let it go on it hurts I want peace to destroy him end this freedom life pain vengeance justice bring him to justice.

“Stop!” The promise of justice brought him strength. As Tirek brought his axe in a lazy stroke from above, the sword rose to parry it. Dirt sprayed onto Paladin, the shell’s empty gaze lost in the axe only an inch from his face.

“I will not! I have won!” Ripping his weapon free, Tirek’s grin began to stretch too wide for his cheeks to contain, but such physical realities meant nothing to him. He began to force Tyrael back, pleasure on his face as he drove his staggered foe back. “A binding born from the Heart, a weave no demon blade could cut, and you, Tyrael, Archangel of the Angiris Council, broke it! Millions of souls soaked in thousands of years of darkness, bound to me in totality! Fueling me! I! Have! Won!”

Tyrael forced slow arms to rise. The force of each attack nearly tore the sword from his weakening grip, but it never succeeded. He held on as he was forced back, thick plate boots stumbling. He cast a desperate gaze across the shattered battlefield, and in answer a miasma of creeping darkness appeared above…the Elements!

“No!” Sudden strength flooded him, enough to break the melee for an instant and charge towards the six mares sealed in their own personal hurricane. Tirek melted from the earth, rising from shadow to intercept him.

“Yes!” Tirek barked a laugh. “I’m going to break them this time! You saved them twice from the Nightmare, but they cannot be saved from me!”

His blow sent Tyrael reeling. Disembodied force struck the Archangel relentlessly, presence given away by the souls disturbed in its path. The tide had turned against him, and he fought every second to regain his momentum.

“You’ve delivered this world to me!” Like a maestro, Tirek stood back and merely guided the spectacle. “The souls of my foes tortured into madness! The spirits of my servants, cursed with eternal servitude! Their full power is mine, all thanks to you!”

“I will-” Tyrael dodged, sparks lighting up across his blade as it met the force. Doubt threatened the strength of his sword arm, until his gaze lingered on the dome containing Paladin’s friends. Power burned from his heart into his arm. He threw the force away with a roar. “I will see them freed! They will have Justice! Every soul you’ve taken, for every moment of rest you’ve stolen from the dead!”

His foul laughter ringing with his strange echo, Tirek summoned a gale of souls with a wave of his arm. Malignant glee filled his expression as surely as stolen power filled his body. He circled Tyrael as he wove souls into a swath of torment that drained energy from everything around it.

“They belong to me. The chains that bind them will never be broken, even if you wielded more than the sorry weapon of a broken angel. I will be the Prime Evil, buoyed by every soul on this world, and you will not stop me!” Hands dancing, Tirek gloated with a mad grin on his hideous face. “I have won!”

The dome spun on, encapsulating its prisoners. Six mares lay unresponsive. Scattered within a localised gale of foul spirits and darkened souls, as angel and demon fought, they did nothing. Only the howl of tormented winds gave hint to the unearthly voices that sought entry to each.

it was too much for her. Fluttershy twitched, tears running down slack cheeks. Her senses burned with millennia of pain. Pain radiated from her heart.

‘I want to help...’ She did, she told herself, but she knew not where to start. So many called out in despair. Agony ran rampant. Who needed her help more? Who needed the touch of Kindness, and how could she possibly deny it to any other for even a moment?

It was all such a mistake. She knew she should have protested. They should have left the not-Paladin thing to fight Tirek. The sturdy walls of the library would have protected them from this, from the suffering of souls beyond count that assaulted her heart.

“So many are hurt...can you really help us all?’ asked one, whimpering in despair. ‘Are you Kind enough?”

Rainbow Dash wrapped a wing around herself, her eyes wide, her pupils shrunken. Whispers filled her ears. Stories of millennia of suffering, of isolation confined to the tiniest mote of existence, were all she could hear. They were alone, and so was she.

“Teleport away.”

She should.

“You can escape our fate! Just run! Leave them!”

She could.

“Escape! They are done by now!”

Rainbow Dash knew they were right. Nopony could be fine from this. She certainly wasn’t!

“What use is Loyalty to the dead and the damned?” cooed a sibilant whisper. “They’re lost to you now. Forget them. Can you truly be Loyal when there are none to be Loyal to?”

Pinkie Pie trembled. She heard them whispering about her, these poor souls. She was broken, and even they knew it. A freak. Not right anymore.

“Poor little pony,” sighed one voice. “So, so broken.”’

“Can she even talk?” asked another.

“Well, she certainly can’t sing.”

It was like they didn’t think she could hear them. She could, Pinkie wanted to call, but she wasn’t sure what the point was. They were right. She couldn’t sing, not properly. Her voice was wrong. On and on they went, growing sadder with every word.

“Being around her makes me depressed,” whined a voice.

Another tutted. “Don’t be mean. It’s not her fault she’s broken. So what if she makes us sad? She didn’t choose to be a failure. We shouldn’t blame her because she can’t make us Laugh. All she can do is cry now.”

“There’s no Laughter here. Only tears.”

Rarity wanted to look away, but her gaze was fixed. Her open, slack expression couldn’t move, and so she was left to stare at...at them.

She saw their torments. In the rivers of tortured souls she Saw the patterns engraved upon them. The indignities of thousands of years of hell were carved upon them for her to See, and she couldn’t unsee them now.

“Close your eyes. Let us have this. Will you carry our pain and shame in your memory forever? Can you not free us?”

She tried. Tears ran down her cheeks, and yet her eyes were bound open, unable to close, her Sight locked onto the visions of torment. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to run. She wanted to scream.

All she could do was watch.

“Then take it,” coaxed a pleading voice. “Take our pain for yourself! Spare us! Are you not Generosity? Why won’t you give us peace and freedom? Are you not Generous enough?”

‘I don’t want that...’ Shame rushed through her at the thought. Rarity trembled at the thought of what they had suffered, and the prospect of enduring their burden weighed upon her. The greatest act of Generosity would be to give herself for their sake, but she couldn’t do it.

“Suffer for us! Are you truly Generous, if you will refuse us?”

There was no friendship here. Twilight lay in the remains of the town she called home, and found nothing but dirt and ruin. Above her howled the souls of the damned, damned not by their actions but by the evil of another. They spoke in the rushing winds, and she heard their tales of a thousand attempts to unite.

“We joined together, and it meant nothing!” wailed one.

Another begged, “Don’t let them drag you down! Your bond will just be used to hurt you, let it go! Please let it go!”

“We suffered for so long, and Friendship never saved us. We fought together to free ourselves and it came to naught.” Scorn laced each word as it drilled into her skull. “We are as broken as the angel’s blade, as helpless as your ‘saviour’, and what did banding together do but make us a bigger target?”

In the grass before her glittered the shattered blade. Alloy of Angelic material and mortal frostiron lay in ruin, shards left to the dust without even an echo of their glory.

“Diluting your power with others’ will only make you weak. Friendship is nothing but weakness preached as strength. Stand alone, Twilight Sparkle. Friendship is meaningless.”

Around a shell of angelic steel, the spirits who had served Tirek in life gathered. Their lies piled upon Applejack’s ears, besieging her with the voices of traitors.

“Tyrael lied to you.”

“He led you into a trap!”

“It was all a lie.”

Applejack shivered inside her shell, her breath short, her eyes screwed shut. She wished she could do the same to her ears. How could she fight voices? All the voices could do was talk, but she felt the slimy grasp of their intent sliding around her, seeking a weakness to sink into as they sought their chance.

‘They gotta be lies. Paladin wouldn’t do that,’ she told herself.

“Paladin is gone,” came the hateful truth in sibilant tones. “He died to give you your angel. Tyrael took him from you.”

Her Element flickered, and she knew it was true. Paladin was gone. Tyrael had taken him. A single truth that hurt, and hurt even more because she knew it was because they hadn’t been able to do anything more.

“It’s alright, there’s nothing you could have done. That’s the truth, isn’t it? The truth is, you were just weak. Useless.”

“No...no, we ain’t useless. That ain’t the truth!” Applejack gripped the thought with all her might. She forced her eyes open, taking in the scene before her, her friends already taken. “An’ ya can’t make me accept it!”

Her Element burned in mute defiance, for just a moment. Silver armour became amber, a muffled beacon lost in the darkness that swallowed it before it could push more than inches from its surface.

Above, far, far above, two minds reached across the void to touch. Slivers of magic passed between them, creeping past creaking seals.

Princess Celestia, Mistress of the Sun, Ruler of the Day, opened her eyes, grasping the bond that once bound all the Elements to her. Princess Luna, Lady of the Moon, Ruler of the Night, opened her eyes, her bond to the Elements burning with sudden life.

Little more than thoughts and energy, their bodies as much reality as delusions in an ethereal existence, they focused their marshalled power on that lonely, flickering light below.

Beyond their prison, their Elements dim, Tirek swelled, flesh struggling to contain his energies. His victims and his minions roared all around Tyrael. Caught between physical combat and the weight of a million souls clawing at him for help, his great skill was all that kept him in one piece.

“All alone now, Tyrael. The Council is too far from here to help you….the mortals are trapped in the sway of my servants...even the Sisters are sealed…” The earth shook with each step Tirek took. He fought leisurely, his manner smug and gloating. His axe swung, black wind rushing along. Souls were captured in his will and became lashings of tormented energy that struck at the Archangel from every side.

Tyrael retreated under the assault, borrowed blade working furiously. It blurred, too fast to see, and where he left openings, the impetuous whips of agony wormed themselves in. His blade sung, severing each as they found themselves exposed.

“Yet I stand against you. Whether at the height of my power or at my weakest, I will stand firm.” He paused, rooted to the ground by a will of iron. Tyrael’s wings flared defiantly, his voice rising. “Justice will prevail, so long as I stand!”

“You have a single soul, not even enough to restore your full might. I have an army!” Snorting in annoyance, Tirek’s brow drew together, his glee soured. He knew he had won, and he would make Tyrael acknowledge it.

Unnoticed, hidden behind clouds of the dead, the sun and moon... moved. Slowly at first, by inches it seemed, they had been easing their way across the sky for long minutes. The eyes of a world in panic turned upward.

The fires of the sun burned low, but on Celestia pushed. The seal arrested her power, a sliver all that escaped, and with agonising slowness she felt her sister drawing closer. They reached across the emptiness between them, through faded bonds.

‘Sister...’ whispered one.

‘...now!’ answered the other.

Sun and moon aligned. A ring of light burned.

Tirek looked to the sky, his attention turned to the heavens too late, and roared his rage. Solar flare and moonlight thrust down together, twinning into a spear that burned open the dark clouds of lost souls. The storm broke. For an instant, the eclipse shone with the fury of a star exploding. Two voices raised in exultation.

Tyrael raised a hand to shield hidden eyes. His armour shone with reflected glory.

“Hear me, my little ponies…”

Where the damned and the hateful had whispered in sinister secrecy, Celestia declared herself to them. Her voice resonated within the air, a warm summer breeze soothing fears and calming uncertainties.

“Your friendships are bonds like nothing else in this world. Never fear that they won’t be enough; take heart in the certainty that no matter what comes, your friendship will overcome the darkness.”

Twilight’s eyes fluttered open. For a moment, she experienced the same reassuring nuzzle that had soothed her panics and the warm embrace of a wing that felt like it could shield her from all the pain of a world that seemed mad to her.

“P-Princess?” she whispered.

Within her shell that felt so hollow, Luna’s voice found Applejack.

“Honest Applejack, I will not lie to you. The Paladin you knew is gone, sacrificing himself for all of you. The truth can hurt, but so too the truth can heal. Let not the pain of honesty destroy you, let this Honesty heal; Paladin gave himself to save his friends. Do not let his sacrifice be in vain!”

This was the battering ram of voices, and even her armour was unable to keep Luna’s voice from reaching her. Applejack rose, the shimmer of her armour brightening as her Element blazed. It hurt, to hear the truth, but it was a cleansing pain. Honesty might be a double-edged sword, but that was still one edge aimed straight at Tirek.

In Rarity’s mind, she heard something else entirely. A hoof like light brushed away her tears.

“Rarity, Generosity is not hollowing oneself for others. It is giving them what they need, not what they want. They want you to take their pain for them, but they need you to find the strength to free them. Such Generosity is greater than a generous self-destruction ever could be.”

Simple words, yet laced with conviction. A thousand years of giving distilled into wisdom that swept through the vulnerable unicorn’s mind. She still looked above, but at last, Rarity found the strength she needed. She Saw no more, blinking away tears, and the Element of Generosity came to life.

A voice whispered in Fluttershy’s ear, old and kind.

"It hurts, to know you cannot help them all at once. I have looked upon the world for centuries and it has taken all my strength not to weep at my limitations, at the sense of futility when I knew no matter how much I tried, I could never do enough. At times, I almost gave up. There are limits for even the kindest of hearts, but never let that stop you from trying. So long as you try to help, so long as you are ready to do what you can, when you can, that must be enough. Kindness isn’t measured in how many you can’t help, but how many you can.”

Light stirred within her necklace, pink energy thrumming within as the darkness faded from Fluttershy. She blinked, staggering to her hooves, the voice lingering in her memory as she was shaken free of the miasma’s influence.

Stern and strong, Luna’s voice cut through haze of whispers that plagued Rainbow Dash. They lanced, psychic force shattering the corruption laying siege to her mind.

“Loyalty! They lie to you, these voices which speak of surrender and failure. They know nothing, neither of you nor Loyalty. Hear me, Rainbow Dash, and know that your faithfulness cannot be in doubt; you have not run, and you will never abandon your friends.” For a moment, Luna’s voice became soft, and tender.”No more than they will ever abandon you. If they must wait a thousand years to save you, those who love you will be there when the darkness recedes.”

“My...friends….” Rainbow Dash gasped. Clarity parted the haze. The lethargy that plagued her began to fade, ushered away by the red light shining from the Element clasped to her neck.

Finally, Luna spoke to Pinkie Pie. The authority was gone, harshness useless where it came to the crying pony. She could never force Pinkie to cheerfulness with shouts and commands.

“Pinkie Pie...yours is a soul born to give joy. Let the words of these maddened foals be nothing to you, for they know nothing of the joy you live with. They know not the joy you spread every day. They cannot understand that you are a source of love and laughter to all those around you. Your voice will always bring smiles to the sad, your songs will make even the grimmest grin. Cast away the lies of the joyless. Please, joyous Pinkie Pie, let your laughter live once more.”

Pinkie blinked back tears. Her voice caught in her throat for a moment, but a nudge from on high urged her on. She almost didn’t recognise the sound of her own giggle. It came out so easily. Pinkie stared blanky, then, she giggled again. And again. It was random, to any save her, but from somewhere inside, they came bubbling out and the shadows lost their grip, their claws breaking against growing light.

Six beacons of light casts off the shadows that gripped them. Their eyes had become brilliant suns of magic. Six souls linked to form a glorious whole, six aspects of a force greater than any alone.

From above, a final message was heard by all, Celestia’s voice growing weak and Luna’s dimming; “You can do this, together. Friendship is Magic, and together, there is nothing more powerful than that.”

With the faintest flicker, the Element of Magic began to glow. Twilight rose to her hooves, letting her mentor’s words wash over her, and her crown burst into brilliant light.

Celestia whispered in their ears, from afar, “The Elements can heal, and create, and seal, but they cannot kill. They cannot destroy.”

“Tirek gambled himself; he discovered this weakness, long ago. The souls bound to him fuel a shield of stolen innocence, and when the Elements strike, they cannot commit the ultimate act of destruction! The Elements cannot hurt the innocent!” Luna’s wisdom was imparted in a hard, furious voice that struck their ears.

“If the Elements can’t stop him, what can we do?” Twilight asked, the thought striking her to wonder if the Princesses could even hear her.

“Hey, I didn’t get magic pumping through me just to float around! We’re gonna use these things if we have to throw them at him!” Rainbow Dash flared her wings, narrowing her glowing eyes. “Besides, its getting kinda...weird, doing this.”

“Holdin’ it in. We jus’ blast ‘em, normally.” Running a hoof over her necklace, Applejack squinted at the figures dueling beyond their brilliant domain. “P- Tyrael ain’t gonna last much longer. We can’t just hide here.”

‘Tyrael...’ Fluttershy grimaced, looking away from the leaping and lunging pair, pain spiking through her. Her gaze, instead, fell on the earth and the gleam of shattered metal. It came to life in response to the attention, ghostly wisps rising from it.

“Twilight...look...”

Bereft of any answer from above, Twilight followed Fluttershy’s pointing hoof down. The fragment floated up, caught in her arcane grip, and slowly, a smile took shape.

“Girls, I have a plan!”

“Paladin!”

The name, and the stab of guilt that it wasn’t his name, drew Tyrael’s attention. It pierced the whispers of the damned that clamoured for his attention. He looked past Tirek, to the six mares gathering their magical power. Their eyes were on the dueling pair, Twilight in the centre with her friends around her in an upright ring.

“Don’t bother. The Elements are weak,” spat Tirek contemptuously. “They are a threat that will never become reality. They can exorcise the corrupt.They can seal the mad. They cannot-”

Tyrael cut his words short with a sudden swing that lanced through the demon’s guard. The blade’s tip brushed through rough fur, passing within less than a centimetre of carving through the demon’s chest as the beast reacted with not even an instant to spare.

“You talk too much.”

Tyrael caught the flick of light that ran through the grass before the gathered Elements. Even as Tirek’s shadows sought to swamp the six, flashes of magic fought back. As he blocked and retreated, fighting off Tirek’s heavy weapon and a thousand begging voices, Tyrael let his gaze linger.

A pattern. He saw it forming, the unified response of the Bearers and their Elements working to break through the siege for only a moment before their breach was sealed away. Yet again and again they struck against the onslaught, and in their actions Tyrael read the tiniest of movements. Something was happening. They had a plan.

“Look at them! Too weak and afraid to unleash the Elements upon the innocent. They can’t survive for long. Not even with the power of Anu’s Heart!” Tirek’s gloating grated on Tyrael’s nerves, and he technically lacked ‘nerves’ right now.

Tyrael drew himself up, raising his blade. “In that case, they can have some of my power.”

Perhaps it was something left over from Paladin. Perhaps even angels could experience this kind of smugness. Regardless of the source, it was a warm, pleasant feeling that Tyrael got when he saw Tirek’s perplexed, angered expression. The angel’s arm swept forward, arching before him with the full might of his body behind him in a movement that sent his sword spinning through the air.

Tirek drew back with a grunt of surprise. His axe rose to fend off the blow he expected. Of course, this left him confused when it never came. The demon swung his head back and forth, searching for Tyrael and his wayward weapon.

It spun, a deadly whirl of silvered steel. Shadows gave way before it, and its spin arrested only when magenta light captured it. It hovered before her.

“How impressive, you’ve disarmed yourself to give a pony a sword,” Tirek sneered. He stood between the weaponless Archangel and the ponies, his nostrils flared, his expression mocking. “I’m sure she’ll use it oh, so well.”

“A sword? Not at all.” Twilight smiled, her eyes a blinding white as the light of the Elements swelled.

“Who said we’re only using one?” Pinkie Pie grinned, her voice ethereal and her eyes lost to the glow of power.

Fragments, pulled from the grass with each advance they had made, gathered when they retreated, glimmered as they orbited the blade. The alloy of angelic steel and Equestrian frostiron caught the swirling lights of the Elements within it.

“The Elements can’t hurt you, but we know someone who certainly can.” Rarity smiled, chillingly cold, at Tirek.

“So we’re gonna take all the kickass in the Elements,” continued Rainbow Dash with a nasty smirk.

“And give it to him,” finished Applejack.

The orbit of shards sped up; soon, rings of colour circled the blade, so fast did each fragment move. The pulsing energies of the Elements of Harmony flared; like the beat of a heart, each colour was lit before the next, until the cycle completed and it began again.

“The Elements are kind; they can’t kill. They can’t destroy…” Fluttershy murmured. Power carried her voice further than mere air could, amplifying it. “But...they can empower.”

Understanding, treacherously slow and vile in its enlightenment, appeared in Tirek’s eyes. He roared in return; he took his might and transfused it into the world, turning sound into weapon, a wave of force that covered the distance between demon and ponies instantly.

Light bounced from armour, blinding him. The roar lost its momentum. With a thunderous crash sound met steel; Tyrael stood against the assault, breaking the attack with his own body.

“Everypony…” Twilight gasped, the well of power flooding her. She wasn’t guiding it; in a way, none of them were. Concentrated will, six minds joined, guided it. “Together!”

“No!” Tirek stretched his hand towards them, hooves churning the earth as he charged. There was no face under Tyrael’s hood, yet the demon knew the angel was staring at him as he vanished into the blast of primal magic.

“Yes.” Through the hurricane of vital energies, Tyrael strode. He felt the power of the Elements of Harmony, the six aspects of the Heart of Anu, sing. He raised his hand, as if warding off a blinding light. The sword hung before him, the centre of the storm.

Red. Pink. Blue. Yellow. Orange. Purple.

They bounced from shard to shard, colours mingling, and with them their power. The land, the world, held its breath. He felt it come from every corner, the life-veins of a world feeding into its unified heart. Its nature was soft and welcoming. It was, truly, Anu’s Heart. There was no malice in it, no harshness either. It was loving.

It couldn’t win this fight alone.

“Unity…” he whispered, and the word, the concept, was caught in the winds. His wings flared, leaking their light into the twisting ethereal storm. “Together. Heart of Anu, lend me this power. Let the fist of the Heavens strike the blow that must be struck! I will wield the weapon, I will make the hard choice that must be made!”

For a moment, within the burning heart of primordial energies, even the Archangel of Justice was blinded. The sword and the remnants of its brother vanished. Unseeing, he reached forward, hand outstretched until his fingertips brushed metal.

He had made his plea, his entreaty to a power born of kindness and generosity, that was loyal and honest, that birthed laughter in the darkest of hearts, and bound it all in the delicate web of friendship.

His hand closed upon the hilt.

He had his answer.

Where there had been a second sun burning in Ponyville’s heart, and rushing winds suddenly, there was silence. Stillness. The light faded.

“Behold, Tirek,” spoke Tyrael, ringed by the Bearers. Tyrael raised the blade, larger by almost half. Its silver steel shone with internal light that flowed from the hilt. Six spikes, each a different colour, shimmered from the hilt as an ethereal guard.

“Rargh!” Fire blossomed between Tirek’s horns. “So you glow a bit! That means nothing!”

Fire met blade. It split, flowing aside to carve a ring in the earth. Tyrael’s wings flowed in gentle, easy waves, their colours warped by the infernal light.

‘No,’ Tirek saw as he urged his attack on, grinding his teeth. ‘They’re...different...’

Tyrael willed it so, and the attack came to an explosive end. Displaced air exploded in every direction. In place of hellish light, an aurora lit his shining form and the mares sheltered by his power, and Tirek beheld his foe anew.

Colour flowed through Tyrael’s form like living light. Nothing so garish as a rainbow; an aurora, the subtle play of light against light, colours mixing and melding as they folded across his armour. His wings were alight with the colours of the Elements, subdued, yet brilliant, soft and strong all at once.

Tyrael turned slightly, enough for Fluttershy to peer into the obscuring darkness of his hood. Whatever hidden eyes he may have peered down. Bone-tired though she was, she pushed herself to her hooves. Her friends were doing the same.

“Rest,” Tyrael murmured. He raised his empty hand in an open-palmed gesture. “I will end this.”

“No way, we totally...got this…” groaned Rainbow Dash, She rubbed her forehead. “Geez, who hit me with a cart?”

Pinkie gave a tired giggle. “Nopony, silly Dashie! We just used all that super-duper magical stuff to make our big shiny buddy a super-duper-deluxe magic sword! A friendship sword!” She hoof pumped weakly. “Go on, hit the meanie with friendship!”

Shadows struck. They bent, curved, twisted, and ultimately, broke against the flickering aurora. Tyrael never turned, never acknowledged the attack, or Tirek’s roar of anger.

“Go on, sugarcube, we’ll be there in a minute,” Applejack, her armour faded, gave him a weary smile. “We can trust ya to take care of that fellow.”

Tyrael nodded. The sword rose. He turned back to Tirek. It struck the demon, for a moment, that the sword was not aimed at his heart.

‘No,’ he realised. ‘My neck.’

His nostrils flared.

“You think you can beat me now? So what if the Elements are aiding you? They can’t destroy me!” Fire formed between his horns; shadows wafted from his hand, coating the blazing sphere. “You can’t stop me!”

Magic erupted; the angel charged. Arm pulled back, Tyrael slashed. The rending shriek of clashing might replaced every other sound for an instant.

Tirek’s brow twitched, and he caught the glimmer at the corner of his ear. With a triumphant howl, he spun after the angel before the shimmer of his teleport had faded. The column of his attack turned with him, a deadly ruin left burned in the earth until it rose to the Archangel above and behind him.

The glow of the aurora grew. Tyrael was blown a few metres back, yet his defenses held. The Archangel stood defiant in the air, hands raised to block the blast.

The unarmed Archangel.

The whistle of whirling steel was Tirek’s last warning. Earth churned, rocks thrown up in his desperate leap back. Pain filled Tirek’s world, a burning agony that sheared through one of his horns. It landed with a thump, half his horn cut from his head, and the sword flew on. Fire slammed into the earth as Tirek snarled, fighting through the pain. With a wave of his hand his malformed, uncontrolled beam flickered out.

Tyrael caught the blade as he landed. It fit in his hand perfectly, as if made for it. He had no time to appreciate this, of course, simply raising his weapon to check Tirek’s charge. The blade slid into place to catch the descending axe-head.

The clash rang out like a gong. Twilight’s horn sparked, an ounce of magic forced out. A dome shimmered around them, rocks and dirt blown up by the meeting of foes bouncing off it. The toll rang again, Tirek drawing back for a crushing blow that bounced off Tyrael’s parry, a terrible noise that disturbed the earth with each meeting of blades.

“I am Lord Tirek! I will not be defeated by this nonsense!” He swung, and missed, overextended. Flesh parted around energised metal that made a hiss of cooking flesh until the demon threw a hand at his foe, before Tyrael could go deeper. The Archangel retreated before Tirek could get a grip.

“Something wrong, demon? You don’t seem so confident now that we’re on equal footing.” Tyrael attacked with words as much as weapon. He drew on every resource he had. He had a second wind, but there was no third. There was nothing past this fight.

All he got in answer were roars and snarls, bellowed denials. Tyrael slashed, Tirek blocked. Tirek swung, Tyrael parried. Each time their weapons met the pressure scattered dirt and tore grass, and spread the haunting ring of clashing metals.

Blood splashed, a streak that sunk into the dirt, staining and stinking it. Tainted dirt exploded under the pressure of Tirek’s hoof. He took a step back, then, another. His axe swept pass Tyrael, an instant too slow, and the return blow sent the demon back another step.

Eyes flaring with terrible fury, Tirek snarled, full of rage, “Slaves! To me! Come to your master!” Dark winds whirled, the storm closing upon them from above.

“And so the coward calls upon those already conquered; replacing his strength with that which he has stolen.” Tyrael stood erect against the hurricane. His aurora lit the gloom, casting beauty in place of shadow.

Snorting, Tirek raised his head to the sky. “You have the power of six, angel; I have the power of a million!”

The crunch of Tyrael’s footsteps rang louder than the storm. He heard the cries of the innocent and the damned closing all around him, tugging at him, yet he strode on.

 A hundred souls were torn from the storm, congealing around Tirek’s axe into a spectre of energy. When he swung, the distance between demon and angel vanished before the tortured blast.

His hand rose. The aurora blew constantly from him, a mist of many clouds that trailed into the currents. Fingers, spread wide, closed. One hundred voices fell silent.

Tyrael strode on.

“They are-”

“Free?” Tirek smiled. The voices, quieter, their ethereal forms diminished, flowed across his axe. “Never. They shall never be free of me. The Elements cannot harm the innocents I cloak myself in; can you?”

The hurricane shuddered. Above, it began to cave in, souls cascading down, formless energy feeding into the hungry weapon. Tirek’s smile grew, the edge of madness twisting it. His skin cracked, dark veins spider-webbing beneath his bloody skin, vanishing under his black fur.

“I’m going to devour them, Tyrael. They belong to me. They are mine, and I am going to devour them until all that is left the faintest hint of who they were, and, just for you, I’m going to torture them until I can feed again. I want you to know that as you die.” The insanity Tirek had almost managed to hide began to show, a wide, hungry smile on his face. “They’re going to wish they were dead. They always do. I’m going to eat them. Again. And again. And again.”

The whisper of fingers tightening, the creak of metals pressing together lingered in the air.

“Then strike.” Tyrael lowered his weapon. The memory of tensing muscles lurked in Tyrael’s mind for a moment before fading. His sword didn’t move. He stood, open, unguarded. “Strike, with stolen strength, and see what it earns you. Or…”

Doubt flickered in Tirek’s expression. “Or?” he demanded.

“Surrender.”

Doubt became fury. Tirek’s bellow rang through the town. “Never!”

He swung. The storm fell in that single stroke, their cries gone. They fell silent.

Still, Tyrael did nothing but stand defiant. The instant stretched out. His gaze pierced the thundering energies. The world slowed to a crawl. He reached out. The storm-strike hit.

The storm broke. Twisting light slithered across Tyrael, dancing along the curves of his armour with millimetres to spare, but never touching him. Souls howled around him, their cries of rage becoming a chorus of triumph. Tyrael savoured the expression of shock on Tirek’s face.

Fingers of angelic steel closed on the dark blade. They pressed into the bleak metal, deforming engravings. The force of a million souls strained against the foci of their power, the chains that bound them. Tirek pulled. The axe remained still, trapped, as the angel held on. His thick, blunt-nailed fingers felt glued to the still, frozen weapon.

He stared, trapped, as Tyrael’s hand rose, and with it the shining Sword.

“You let them speak. You opened them to the world so I could hear them scream, and beg, and plead, for help.” Wrenching the demon up by the horn, Tyrael raised the Sword of Harmony. “I wasn’t distracted because I could hear them. It was because they could hear me.”

Chill permeated the demon’s heart, lodging a shard of ice in his chest that threatened to shatter with each beat of his pounding heart. His eyes were locked on the shadows within Tyrael’s hood; drawn in, trapped, unable to turn away to view the storm as it grew still. The wind died down. Cracks spread across the axe blade.

He wasn’t sure where it started. The first was too small to notice, the same thing he felt with every soul that strained to break free. His slaves pulled, slowly, a few on their own, then together. More joined. Together. They pulled, the weight of their sum growing with each tug of their spiritual chains. With each tug the cracks grew, spreading across the uneven surface.

“They called for Justice, and Justice has answered,” Tyrael said coldly. “You’re right; you’ve bound them too closely for me to free them, but you’ve bound them too closely for you to free them. Your essence will be shattered into a million pieces, each too small to retain a memory of the whole. You will fade away. You will be gone, with nothing left to be reborn in the Hells.”

Tirek mewled, fear rising his voice, “Mercy-”

The Sword rose higher, poised above him. “Mercy,” agreed Tyrael. “You’ll never have to face me again. Let your sentence be carried out...”

Tyrael’s wings burned, for a moment, each the sinuous heart of a sun. The cracks upon the black axe met at last, joining into a web that stretched edge to edge.

The Sword fell.

“I will be reborn!” Tirek howled in mindless, terrified defiance.

As one, a million and more souls wrenched at their chains.

Tyrael’s voice emerged, cold and flat, his judgement rendered in a single word, “Oblivion.”

For a moment, Tirek continued to stare into the depths of Tyrael’s hood. Perhaps he saw something, in that instant, before the line appeared. His skull opened, sheared in perfect halves. His face split. His chest parted. The axe exploded.

Tirek, Lord of Betrayal, shattered.

The skies cleared.

“Justice has been done.” Tyrael’s whisper carried on the wind, so far it might even have brushed the faceless sun and moon.

The grass bent in gentle winds, their graceful movements each a miniscule part of the shifts and patterns the breath carved in its path through the war torn town. Cloth fluttered, dancing on the strings of the wind. Bricks, timbers, shattered remnants of a half-dozen houses ripped down in combat, were bared to the world with each gust that swept the mortar dust and dirt from their broken bones. A gentle wind, yet insistent, paying no mind to the devastation across which it blew.

His wings did not flutter in the breeze, nor did his tabard flow to the whims of the current. He stood aloof as the world turned and moved and lived, a thing of cold beauty and eternal dedication. Though his boots dug into the soft earth as surely as their hooves did, the Archangel stood above them.

Fluttershy told herself not to think that. She knew she shouldn’t. She should look upon Tyrael and see all that Paladin had once been, and all he had become again. She should have been heartened by the knowledge that he had regained what he had lost. She should, she knew, appreciate how he had defeated Tirek.

She should have.

She didn’t. Couldn’t.

Fluttershy reached towards him, and felt nothing of Paladin. The warrior with aurora wings bore no resemblance to the pony she loved. So much was the same, yet all tuned to a different frequency, one utterly alien to her.

What did you say to your saviour, when you wanted to scream and cry and demand at them to give him back? Each step she took, the question beat at the inside of her skull. How did she express gratitude when she, selfish mare that was, wanted Paladin back?

The day was saved. No one, hopefully, had died. The demon was gone and they were going to live on to tomorrow without fear for their lives...lives that would not include a mighty blue pegasus with a sometimes feeble grasp of slang and a penchant for heroism.

Her friends had no such hesitations...

“Woo! You kicked his flank!”

Rainbow Dash spun a rainbow ring around Tyrael. Her trail, as impressive as usual, looked almost gaudy compared to the subtle play of light upon Tyrael’s wings. A bounding, babbling explosion of pink followed her, the pair circling Tyrael.

“Ya gave that nasty fella what for, no mistake,” Applejack agreed. She strode with pride despite the weariness. She smiled, tired but strong, at the eldritch angel..

Rarity nodded, murmuring her agreement. Her eyes glowed, seeing beyond mortal sight. She could feel the impression of his existence upon her eyes, a lead weight deforming the thin sheet of reality beneath it. He was so much more real than the ephemeral world around them, yet so alien and out of place.

“I can’t believe that worked! I was just coming up with things on the spur of the moment, trying to work all those different ideas together without any preparation. The link between your essence, and how they could connect, how the Elements are bound to our soul the same way. I wasn’t even sure it would really be able to transfer like that! But it did!” Twilight squealed with fillyish glee.The Element of Magic nearly slipped from her head as she excitedly recounted her idea. The devastation around them was, it seemed, a small price to pay for such exciting learning.

“In-...yes.” Tyrael caught himself, and perhaps he hesitated for a moment before continuing, but Fluttershy wasn’t sure. “It was a marvellous plan. Tirek paid the price of his actions. His victims exacted upon him an oblivion too kind for his deeds, but it is Justice.”

Words fought to escape her muzzle, but Fluttershy locked them down. They would have been just a rush of gibberish, nonsense not even a madpony could have seen reason in.

“How?” Twilight asked. She gave Tyrael a look of wonder and curiosity, the need to know burning in her. “I mean, he was screaming about being reborn, we could all hear him. Was he lying?”

Fluttershy liked to imagine she could hear relief in his voice, but all she heard was a voice so like Paladin’s, yet so profoundly other that she knew they could never be matched. They sounded so alike, in so many ways, but something more than mere sound had changed.

“Not as he knew it. Tirek protected himself against the Elements and Equestria’s own rejection of outside influence by binding the souls of those his magic enslaved. At the moment of their deaths, he swept them into his own essence and forged chains that nothing could break.” The Archangel’s fist tightened upon The Sword of Harmony. “When I broke the satchel that contained them, he allowed them to be heard for the first time in their tortured existence.”

He paused, letting the horror of Tirek’s act sink in before continuing. His voice came out with a note of anger that smouldered in each word.

“They sensed my power, my nature, and begged me to deliver Justice. He sought to overwhelm me. It worked, for a time, but with my strength bolstered, I was able to finally return their calls. They were bound too closely for me to break the chains, but Tirek had damned himself.”

“You ripped him apart with the power of his own bindings, didn’t you?”

Gasps rang out, but Tyrael made no reaction beyond a nod. Princess Celestia, weary and weak, smiled at the surprised ponies. At her side, their weight leaned against the other’s, Princess Luna attempted a regal inclination of the head before giving up and just nodding.

“I’m sorry, everypony, I didn’t mean to startle you. Please, Archangel, continue. I think I understand, but perhaps we should make sure there is no uncertainty. Tirek cannot return, can he?” The weary diarch asked. Though she looked as drained as they, her eyes were sharp and focused.

Tyrael simply shook his hood. “No. He was torn asunder, every aspect of his being divided into miniscule shards. Each was torn in a different direction, and the Heart’s protection did the rest. Just as myself and Ardleon were weakened, so too were his fragments, but they had not the strength to resist the Heart. It destroyed him. Tirek will never be reborn in the foul wombs of the Burning Hells. He is gone.”

“Heart?” Spike asked.

“I was going to ask- Spike?” Twilight snapped her head towards the voice. She let out as gasp when the sheepish little dragon poked his head up from around Celestia’s wing. “Spike!”

“We manifested at the library after breaking the seals,” Celestia said in reply to unasked questions. She smiled, weight vanishing from her back in a burst of magic. “Spike wanted to see you. So did quite a few others, actually.”

“We advised that right now we needed to speak with you on matters of the utmost importance, and ensure there were no more dangers,” added Luna. She frowned for a moment. “Fair Applejack, you had best have your clan matriarch speak with your elder brother on the subject of language. When we told him he was not to come to you yet, he said such things!”

Applejack blinked, and glanced around to see if anypony was laughing at the obvious joke. “Er...Big Macintosh? Yer sure it was him? Big, red, don’t talk much?”

“Big and red he may be, but that rapscallion most certainly spoke!” Luna said. The dark alicorn scowled at Celestia as the taller princess did her best to cover a fit of most unprincessly giggles.

“Please, don’t worry. Your brother was just worried and, well, it has been some time since anypony has been quite so blunt to my dear sister,” said Celestia when she regained control of herself. She coughed, not quite managing to hide the laughter at her sister’s expense. “He seemed quite surprised himself.”

Tyrael watched the strange interaction as though they were more distant than a few metres. He felt understanding flow through him with each beat of an alien heart, and in the strangest of ways, he understood what he saw in ways he never had before.

So too did his mortal heart fill him with dread when Fluttershy turned from them. She galloped across the field, to the darkly furred body that lay recumbent upon the ruined earth. Limp wings that had lost their lustre were lay beneath it.

“Paladin!” She knew, even as she reached the body, that it was not him. The emotions, the life, were gone from it. It was just a body now, a shell bereft of motivation. With shaking hooves, she gently raised his head.

Empty eyes saw past her. They gazed, unfocused, into the empty distance. Her shaking became more fierce, until she feared she would drop him. She didn’t. Even as her friends came rushing after her, even as they saw what she saw, Fluttershy didn’t let go.

She should have been crying. Fluttershy was certain of it. She’d cried a lot in her life. The lifeless body of somepony she loved should, surely, have brought out more tears than ever before.

Instead, Flutterhsy found her heart matched his gaze. Empty.

“Wait, so...issat Paladin, or is...Ah’m confused,” Applejack muttered. She looked between Archangel and body. “Didn’t Paladin just transform or something?”

“I don’t think so,” said Twilight. She pressed a hoof to Paladin’s neck, searching for a pulse, while her eyes ran over Tyrael. “I think...uh..I-I think he…”

Tyrael said nothing. He looked, for a moment, at the alicorns, and whatever he saw in their eyes was not enough to keep his gaze turned for long. Only the whisper-quiet sound of Fluttershy brushing a hoof across Paladin’s cheek turned his head. He looked down, knowing she could never see his eyes in the darkness to meet them, yet somehow they still locked gaze when she looked to him.

“Are...are you…?” Fluttershy tried to ask. Rarity’s soothing, gentle hoof that rubbed her back in small circles failed to soothe her. Pinkie’s bright presence, her own fear and sadness contained, brought no smile to Fluttershy’s face. She just stared, and waited.

Never before had Tyrael wondered if this was what heartbreak felt like. “No.” Tyrael sighed, stiff posture softening as he dropped slowly to one knee, bringing them closer, if not completely to level. “No, I am not him. Not...not anymore.”

Tears dotted the corners of her eyes. Fluttershy blinked rapidly, fighting back tears. “W-why...why not? He’s right there. His body is right here!”

Her friends drew back. The echo of Fluttershy’s scream died slowly. Of all things, that had brought the greatest reaction from Tyrael. He looked away.

“Paladin gave himself to bring about my rebirth. He was the fuel, and Ardleon’s dying essence was the spark,” Tyrael said. He admitted it as though pleading guilty to a great crime.

Guilt. It was guilt that wrenched at his soul, guilt that he had come back this way, and that he could think of no way to soften the blow of what he said. Never had he so desired the Scroll of Fate and its endless lore, or the enlightening waters of Chalad’ar, to guide him to an answer. No blade could take away her pain. No weapon could soothe the wounds he saw opening their hearts with each word he spoke.

“It was an act of sacrifice that consumed him, as the flame consumes fuel to burn. Paladin is...Paladin is gone.”

Fluttershy drew back, and Tyrael was abruptly aware of the silence that surrounded him. He looked into the faces of the ponies who had won the day, and he saw no triumph. There was no victory in the face of his news. Uncomfortable for reasons he had no wish to put a name to, the Archangel rose to his full height once more.

“That...t-that’s...that’s a really bad joke.” Pinkie’s voice wobbled. She looked to one side, then the other, seeking a sign that it was a terrible joke. She sniffled.

All glee had long since deserted Rainbow Dash’s expression. She landed with a thud and her hoof hit the ground, sending dirt spraying into the air. “Damn it! That’s...that’s not fair! That’s so not fair!”

Blonde hair shivered in the wind. Applejack pressed her hat to her chest, staring at the ground with grief in her eyes and the glimmer of unshed tears.

Rarity took Pinkie in hoof, hugging the teary eyed party pony, but her eyes went to Fluttershy, and her heart almost broke in sympathy. The pain she felt in her chest was surely magnified a thousand times in her friend’s. ‘Oh, Fluttershy...’

“Maybe… maybe we can retrieve him? I mean, if he was used to bring you back, maybe there’s...maybe we can figure something out!” Twilight turned to Celestia. “Princess, you know so much magic, if you help me alter the spell we used to extract Ardleon’s essence can figure it out.”

Celestia exchanged a look with Luna, then past Twilight, to Tyrael’s impassive form. Wish as he might, all Tyrael could do was give a small shake of his hooded head.

“Twilight, I don’t think….” she began,

“No! No, there has to be a way! I can work it out, I just need time!” Nearly shrieking, Twilight forced her horn to life with a weak spark of magic. Almost instantly she had pain knifing through her skull, and her legs gave way.Were it not for the white hoof that caught her, she would have hit the ground face first.

Celestia eased Twilight back up. She nuzzled her student tenderly. “Your magic reserves have been depleted. You need to rest.”

Shaking her head in denial, Twilight groaned at the pain. “I have to work. I need to find a way to...to…” Stinging eyes blinked. When they opened, they peered into Celestia’s kind, sad expression.

Tyrael spoke again, finding his voice at last. “He sacrificed himself for you. He knew-”

“Sacrifice?!” Fluttershy snapped. Normally calm eyes blazed, and a voice unused to screaming rose sharply. She nailed the Archangel with a glare that saw only what had been taken. “What would you know about sacrifice? He...he died, he’s gone forever! I loved him, and he’s…”

She turned away. Whatever dam had been built within her, whatever limit she had, they broke. Fluttershy let her tears flow.

“He’s gone.”

“Fluttershy, I….” The warrior from the dawn of creation, peerless judge and guardian of perfection, found himself lost for words. His soul resonated with song, his voice was strong and firm, and yet neither helped when he was faced with a mare grieving. “I’m sorry. There was no other choice.”

She said nothing. Her friends embraced her from all sides, ponies and dragon sharing her grief, and Tyrael envied them their chemical reactions and the snap of their synapses that gave them a strange unity he could never know.

“...it is time I left.” His back to them, Tyrael paused. It felt wrong, to leave so simply and quietly. There still had to be something…

Ah.

Yes.

“Fluttershy,” he spoke, at last the authority of eons investing his words with a conviction that struck bone-deep. Tyrael waited until finally she looked, until they were all looking. “He loved you. Know that, as he gave of himself, he thought of you. He thought of the life he wanted to live, and he wanted to live it with you. It was not the thought of me, or of the ageless eternity he had left behind.”

He gestured, taking them in with a sweep of his shining gauntlet.

“All of you. The mare he loved, and the friends he had come to cherish. In the end, he chose you. Because to him, to the stallion you named Paladin, you were worth everything. Even his life.”

With those final words, the Archangel’s wings lit up. He blazed for an instant, and then, he was gone. The silence in his wake lasted only a few seconds before the sounds of a broken heart returned, but…

Perhaps, just perhaps, it had been healed ever so slightly.

In the depths of the Everfree Forest, the Tree of Harmony sung its forever-song, filling the ancient cave as it had for uncounted ages. The torn, empty armour, an angel’s skeleton, made no difference to it. Endlessly it wove the threads of its world together.

Reality tore open.

His boot hit the dirt, the rough sound lost in the unchanging song. Into the old cave came the Archangel. Colours splashed across the rough stone walls, shifting and writhing as a mirror of his wings. Tyrael approached the great tree, his only hesitation appearing when he came to the shattered remnants of Ardleon.

“I cannot take this blade of mine, this Sword of Harmony.” He released it. Rather than fall, the weapon hovered as calmly as if his hand still grasped the hilt. With a gesture from the angel it approached the tree. “I return the power I have borrowed. Let it not simply sit here. Let a worthy soul wield this weapon forged from the Spine of Anu and the Heart of this world.”

He stood before the Tree of Harmony, the familiar blue of his wings soothing, but his stance grim. Reaching out before him, his fingers curled in and he struck. Rocking back at the force of his own sharp gesture, he forced apart the plates of thick metal that formed his chest. Liquid light ran down his hand, dripping from his elbow as he dug deeper.

He grunted, a pain that had nothing to do with flesh ringing through his being. Not quite a discordant note in his song, but one that had no place within him. Still, the Archangel pulled, his grip unwavering. With a final tug, his wings blazing for an instant, it came free. From the glowing wound, Tyrael pulled not a note of his song, nor a ray of his radiant light, but a shimmering sphere of potential. A seed of had been, and of what could be again.

“A price has been paid. One Justice has been done.”

Already, Tyrael could feel some of his strength fading. Had he a face upon which to wear his emotions, though, only a smile would have been found. Down he reached, nestling the seed within the ancient roots. The tip of the Sword of Harmony came to rest against the seed.

“Now I command; let this day see one more Justice. Let a reward be given for the ultimate sacrifice.”

The Archangel of Justice turned from the Heart of Anu, and though his own heart was gone, he felt a familiar warmth in his chest.

It had, he knew, been the right thing to do.