• Published 15th Apr 2014
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An Extended Holiday - Commander_Pensword



Adventure, Mayhem, Magic of unknown origins, and talking colorful Ponies. All being unrelated events have brought three friends together into the wildest holiday that anyone could imagine.

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107 - Going to need a list for this. . .

Extended Holiday
Ch 107: Going to need a list for this. . .
Act 16: Seasons Begin


Pensword walked down the caves as he followed Queen Me-Me to the chamber where Silver Spear was being held in stasis.

“Are you sure he is getting better?” he asked as they looked about the walls.

“His leg has grown back, and the horn’s ley texture is almost fully restored. The brain tissue requires a bit more work, but we believe his eye is fully reconnected,” Me-Me explained.

“How much longer will he need to stay in the cocoon?”

“That depends on him at this point. He will emerge when he is ready, as all of my children do.”

“Is . . . well, is he in the hive? Are you at least sensing him? I doubt he would be able to communicate with it yet.”

“Yes, his presence is already noted within the hive,” Me-Me admitted. “However, as to the degree, we cannot be certain.”

“Understood,” Pensword replied. “I hope you don’t mind my wishing to check on him. Just do your best to keep him calm.”

“Of course. Actually, while you’re here, I wished to show you something anyway. I’ve been thinking about making a change to my drones, and eventually myself, to better distinguish us from my mother's hive.”

“Right. I am worried there was some form of friendly fire. What is this change?” he asked as a smile slowly spread on his muzzle. It did little to lessen the sadness at Silver Spear’s fate, but any chance to help increase the tactical advantage against Chrysalis was a welcome distraction.

Me-Me looked towards a hallway. A few minutes later, a small still-developing drone scampered in. His chitin was a polished metallic red in color.

Pensword fought Matthew’s mind as he thought of the old RTS games with different colored units. He smiled, and nodded his head. “This looks like a great idea. I definitely approve. How did you get the color to change?”

“I simply re-arranged some of the nutrients in the chitin to change its coloring. By concentrating a higher portion of iron near the surface, the pigmentation changes to match.”

Pensword nodded. “Makes sense. And it makes it easier to spot your children during wartime, which is definitely good.”

“It also is seventeen percent lighter without sacrificing defense,” she noted. “It will take a while to progress through the older changelings, but I’ve begun making sure all the nymphs will be this shade.”

“That is very good,” Pensword agreed. “Lighter armor means faster movement. I am glad to hear your defense was not compromised.”

“It was very kind of Grif to lend me those textbooks on human gene therapy, and all they had discovered about DNA.”

“He did what?” Pensword stopped dead in his tracks. “Are you saying that you, uh, if you take a piece of my mane, could you start sequencing our DNA as well? I . . . do you realize that if we work this right, you could be able to create a healing spa to help heal practically any Pony of sickness? Why, it could heal practically any species, provided you can decode the DNA properly.”

“That was Grif’s belief as well, along with other beneficial effects. Many queens study hard to gain knowledge on how genetics work to create their Changelings, but, with this information, I think I will be able to adapt to many new ideas.”

“I look forward to hearing what happens.” Now the smile was more genuine. “Thank you. I needed that. Now, shall we go see how Silver Spear is doing? Your son can come along as well, if he wishes.”

“Ah, so you’ve finally learned how to tell them apart.” Me-Me smiled as she levitated the drone onto her back. It chittered happily as they walked. “Pensword, you haven’t showed your daughter where the entrance to my hive is, have you?” Me-Me asked.

“No, I have not. Do you wish for her to be shown, or has she found her way in already?”

“Last week, my guards found her napping with my sister in her chamber. The sentries never saw her enter, and we have no idea how she got so far into the hive undetected.”

“She is already being tapped for special training by High Chieftess Luna,” Pensword replied. “I fear she might be . . . well, I am going to have a friend of mine give her a checkup, because even I don’t think I could get that far undetected, even if one of your daughters or sons were to hide me.”

“Ah, not that she is unwelcome. It was just confusing.”

“Half my days with her are like that. Oh, and just a warning. She might try to use your hive as a place to stash her toy bolts. Also, I heard a rumor that a Dwarf wishes to speak with you. We can discuss that after we see Silver Spear.”

“You are certain you’re prepared, then?”

“As prepared as I can ever be.”

“Very well.” They entered the chamber, where the semi-transparent cocoon-like structure glowed with four Changelings monitoring and feeding love and magic into it. Two praetorians watched over the entrance, and four more stood guard within the chamber itself. The pod glowed green, and much like other hive cocoons, revealed the Pony floating within the substance. Silver Spear looked drastically different from when Pensword had seen him last. His mane and tail had regrown, and looked even longer than average, a sign of the extended time in the pod, as well as the accelerated healing his body was being put through. The area around his left eye was covered with smooth white chitin. His horn was curved and sharp like a knife. His leg had regrown as Pensword had been told, but it was not a normal Pony’s leg anymore. In its place, something more insectile had grown, covered with smooth chiton, but rather than the usual black that Me-Me’s drones bore, his was the same copper color as his coat. At the place where the new leg met his barrel, it appeared the fur had been shed, and the skin seemed to be hardening to join the rest of the mass, before stopping around his shoulder blades.

“How much more will he be changing?” Pensword asked as he looked over Silver Spear’s form.

“We’re not entirely sure. This is a new procedure, after all,” Me-Me said. “We hope that the changes will halt as soon as his body finishes healing.”

“Understood.” Pensword nodded as he looked at the Unicorn, and sighed as guilt shot through him once again. “And we can work to try and find a way to regrow limbs and organs without the problem of having them become part of your hive. Some might agree to it, but others would likely see it as a form of infiltration on your part.”

“I’ve been analyzing his unaltered DNA when possible, and I think I may have some ideas on that front.”

“I’ll be sure to find out what we can do in the future for field testing these ideas.” He looked sadly at Silver Spear, and whispered, “I hope you do not hate me for what I had to do.”

“Would you prefer to be alone with him?” Me-Me asked softly as she laid a supportive hoof on his side.

“I would like that. Just for a while,” he answered. “Thank you, Me-Me.”

“No problem,” Me-Me said as she left the chamber.


Vital Spark jerked awake and panted as his focus flew to his side. Sweat coursed down his face, and his heart hammered in his chest. The cool air of twilight filtered through his window, and he let his eyes rove over the room as his magic cast its illumination over the stones. Something had broken his sleep, but he couldn’t tell what. He slowly got out of bed, and shivered as his body shook from the adrenaline wearing off. Something must have spooked him in his sleep, but he couldn’t even begin to remember the last time a nightmare had done that large a number on him. Besides, wasn’t Luna supposed to be patrolling the dream plane anyways? He remembered . . . a scream, maybe?

He yawned as he approached the window, and looked out into the Everfree forest. He rubbed his eyes a few times, then gave a start as he took a closer look. Something was writhing over the pathways like snakes, and he could hear a dark, almost constant hiss carrying over the distance.

“Oh snap,” he gasped.

Near the Bladefeather compound, a blur seemed to be moving rapidly in front of the gate, cutting the vines as they grew, while humming the theme from Freakazoid.

What looked like thick, fleshy black pods lay limp along the castle’s ramparts. It didn’t take Vital Spark long to figure out where the guards likely were, and he could see more of the tendrils making their way towards the castle walls as the hissing grew louder. He bolted out from his room, and ran down the halls, yelling at the top of his lungs.

“Red alert! The castle is under attack! I repeat, the castle is under attack! Man your battle stations!” He continued to yell as he ran through the halls as quickly as he could, while he made his way for the ramparts. Just then, the Woody Woodpecker laugh sounded across the open air.

“I was yelling that already,” Pensword shouted back as he backed away from a window while vines grew through the opening to draw closer to the Unicorn. “But I am glad to see another remembers their Star Trek lore,” he spoke in Draconic. “Now don’t just stand there like a Q. Use that ice magic of yours, and freeze them!” He appeared in another window as more vines began to creep in. His fur was spattered in a thick green substance. “Oh, and by the way, you are a heavy sleeper, you know that?” He looked to Vital. “As for where all the others are? They are either in the pods out there, or have been pushed back indoors. I just hope Shawn gets his fire going soon.” He shivered as they heard airplane noises. “Also, I think Pinkie Pie spiked Grif’s coffee or something. He’s been like that all morning.”

Vital Spark jumped onto the writhing mess that was the attack of the killer vines. “Vulpix, get ready to cringe. I’m just warning you now.” He smirked as he gathered his magic into his focus. “Freeze, suckers!” He slammed his staff onto the ground, and ice consumed the floor, completely petrifying the vines in their tracks, and racing down to the base of the walls, where their weight caused them to shatter, and fall to the writhing mass below. A few cheers echoed from somewhere further down the castle’s halls, before the sound of blade hacking against stone replaced it.

“Don’t see why that is cringe-worthy. My father and brother did puns all the time.” He charged in, shattering them in one blow. “That is great.” He paused. “Is Grif humming the Superman theme song now?”

UP! UP! AND AWAY!

“. . . Wow. Since when could Grif do the Royal Canterlot Voice?” Vital asked as he raced towards the stairwell to the ramparts. A few well-placed ice spears cleared the path in no time, and allowed him to shatter his way through to the outside, where what looked like giant venus fly trap mutants had braced themselves along the parapet. “Oh no you don’t,” Vital muttered as he fired his ice spears at the base of their bulbs. There was a shrill cry, followed by cracking and several heavy thuds as the bulbs dropped to the gorge several stories below. He grinned excitedly as he approached the area surrounding the gate. “You know, I always wanted to say this, ever since I got this staff.”

“Which is?” Pensword asked as he worked to free the doors, and release the twenty guards in the hallway. “Also, Vital, once the doors are open, I need you to start evacs of the Civilians to the Giant.”

“The what?”

“The Gantrithor.” Pensword deadpanned. “I gave it a nickname, because–” He stopped himself. Now was not the time for idle chatter. “I’ll explain later. Once you’re done evacuating Ponies, find the most qualified pilot to put her into the skies, and join the battle.” He held a wing up. “Don’t make me regret allowing you on this combat mission.”

“You do realize until Shawn’s done making his countermeasures, I’m one of the best shots you have at keeping these things out, right? Besides, it’s a Gryphon ship. You should probably ask Grif to get his clan into the air dock and start her up,” Vital said pointedly. “Now do me a favor, and run some interference. If I’m going to pull this one off, it’s going to take some time.”

“You are not giving?” Pensword chuckled as the door finally came free. Vital really was starting to come into his own, at least a little bit. “Don’t think about giving me orders,” he said with a smile. Also, Grif said he would get those that wished not to fight ready. However, Gryphons are like Klingons. They will fight one way or another. I just hope Hammer Strike shows up soon. As for the ship, I think her crew lives onboard, so you don’t have to run her.”

“Interference, Pensword. Please,” Vital Spark said somewhat testily as he blasted back a vine. “That’s twice now that my spell array’s been interrupted. Get these things chasing you and the others, so they can leave me alone, and I’ll not only be able to protect the walls, but I might be able to free the soldiers in these pods while I’m at it.” He ran for the stairs, and raced up onto the parapets near the gate, even as the guards worked to cover his flanks. When he reached the area above the gatehouse, he stopped, caught his breath, and closed his eyes. His horn began to glow more brightly, and an icy blue circle of light began to slowly carve its way around him.

“Well sorry,” Pensword spoke as he ducked under one vine, then over another, causing them to knot themselves. “Kind of been trying to do that all along,” he muttered. “It is just a little hard when we are both facing over ten vines or whatever you want. Oh, joy! A flower showed up. Take that down, or it will knock us out.”

Vital Spark slashed it with a scythe formed from ice. “You know, this is really annoying,” he said as the circle shattered into fragments that promptly melted to water, and seeped into the stone. “Do we have any other Pegasi who can help?”

“We did, but most are in those pods, and the others aren’t faring so well either.” Pensword turned around to gaze back at the keep’s main entrance. “Where is Hammer Strike? I sent at least four teams to search for him. We need him here.”

A muffled voice seemed to be shouting at them as a blast of fire shot from out of nowhere, immolating some nearby sprouts. An Earth Pony dressed in a thick red smock and a gasmask approached. His cutie mark had been stitched over his clothing, and seemed to be little more than an orb of fire. A strange device was mounted on his back. Amongst the mishmash of parts, Vital could make out what looked to be a pair of bellows, and some kind of gas container.

“Yes! Fire Control is here!” Pensword crowed as he watched the flames eating away at the vines. “Vital, you’ve got your clearing. Do it now!”

“I can’t! It’s a really strong attack, but it’ll take me time to set up, and charge properly!”

“Then get charging!” Pensword ordered as he used a wing to lob off another vine, while the Pyros pushed forward.

"HERE I COME TO SAVE THE DAY!” a familiar voice called as something crashed down nearby. “Hi, guys! Didja see me chopping up the plants? Didja? Didja? Didja? DIDJA?” Grif’s words were barely audible as he babbled with impressive speed. His body seemed to almost vibrate as he stood there. His fur was messy, his feathers were crooked, and his eyes were terribly bloodshot.

“. . . Do I even want to know?” Vital Spark asked as the circle of ice finished forming beneath him, and a series of sigils, runes, swirls, and snowflakes began to fill the inside with the formulae.

“Do you? Do I? Does anybody?” Grifs face got progressively closer, until it pressed uncomfortably close to Vital’s.

The spell array shattered again, and Vital Spark’s right eye twitched. “Just . . . cut them with your swords, Grif. I have to start all over . . . again.”

“Okay!” In a blur, Grif was gone again, singing the Looney Tunes theme song as he culled the growing plants.

“All right, this time, no distractions! This is my spell, and I’m going to cast it!” Vital Spark yelled as the sigils formed up for the fifth time. The symbols swept like the strokes of a paintbrush as the waters flowed and solidified into the icy patterns once more, and began to glow beneath his hooves. “About freaking time!” he yelled as a pentacle formed to bind it all together, before his horn and focus flared. A copy of the sigil made of hardened blue light rose up off the ground to hover above his head, before making its way along the parapets, and flashing onto the stone, engraving itself there in ice, and tracing back to the main one with a single glowing line.


Hammer Strike groaned as he burned another set of the vines covering his door. He had decided to rest a little, a small nap while he was still recovering, only to wake up to muffled noises, and a forge surrounded by vines.

“Go. Go, you naughty, naughty plants. The boy needs his rest. Don’t make mama get angry,” an older heavyset mare shouted at the vines. She had a brown coat with a mane and tail in different shades of green. She wore a pashmina around her head, and spoke with a heavy Russian accent as she easily fended the plants off with a ladle.

“You know, I don’t think a ladle is going to help you much,” Hammer Strike commented as he began making orbs of fire around him.

“Oh, Hammer Strike, did the plants wake you? Don’t worry. Mama will handle it. Go get your rest!”

“Already slept long enough, and I don’t believe we’ve met, now that I think about it.”

“You’ve met Papa. How long you think till you meet Mama, huh?” As she said this, she reached over, and pinched Hammer Strike’s cheek, then gave him a light, but firm slap on said cheek.

Hammer Strike caught himself nearly acting with hostility. After a moment, he sighed, and placed a hoof on his head. “Papa? Who are you talking about?”

“Don’t play games with Mama!” the mare said. “Have you been eating right? You look thin! Come! Mama will make you something.”

“Games? Thin? Who are you?” Hammer Strike snapped, only to rub his forehead again. Something wasn’t right, and he couldn’t put his hoof on it. “Sorry, just . . . straight answer, please. Who are you, exactly?”

The mare didn’t even seem to notice as she suddenly forced a bowl that smelled strongly of turnips into Hammer Strike’s hooves. “Eat! Eat! Nothing is better than Mama’s turnip stew!”

“What? Where did you even get this from? I don’t have time for this. This overgrowth looks like it’s consuming the castle. It needs to be pushed back.”

“Eat before it gets cold. Questions are for later. We have job to do.”

Hammer Strike groaned as he suddenly downed the stew. If it was poison, whatever. He could handle a little poison. Heck, even a lot of poison. “There. Fine. Whatever. I’ve got work to do.” He suddenly stopped himself again. “Ex divinia etiam, what is wrong with me?”

“Bad things are in the air. Mama knows. Discord is up to tricks again.”

“So Discord is the cause of this?” Hammer Strike’s tone shifted, dropping dangerously low and neutral.

“Yes, but not now. He caused this problem long ago, during one of his tantrums.” She shook her head, and clicked her tongue. “That boy. Such a hooful, always playing pranks on his sister.”

“You can say that again,” Hammer Strike growled as he pushed through the hallway, burning the plant life in his way. “Wait, Discord has a sister?”

“Yes. You should know thi–oh! That’s why you look different! It all makes sense now!”

Hammer Strike groaned. “I don’t like the sound of that,” he muttered softly. “How much do I do in the past for crying out loud? I swear, fate just loves throwing in time travel at almost every turn.”

“No, she doesn’t do that. That’s lucks job. Such a flirt, that girl. She pick boy she likes, make him rich, then drop him like hot fried knish.”

“What?” Hammer Strike questioned, before the gears finally turned. “Wait. You mean literally. Mamma. Mother. Mother Nature?”

“See? You figured it out! I knew you were clever,” she cheered.

“I’m not in the right mindset. These damned vines are full of chaotic energy, and I’d wager it’s latching onto me the longer it’s around.”

“Yes, and these vines have taken Celestia and Luna, and thrown all Mama’s wonderful nature out of order. This is not good.”

“How in the world did it get Celestia and Luna? They were in Canterlot!”

Mother Nature simply shrugged. “Vines attacking all over Equestria. Just here strongest.”

“Question. What day is today?”

“Why you even ask that question? Is Tuesday, obviously.”

“Because it’s either a Monday, or a Tuesday. Always a Monday or a Tuesday,” Hammer Strike groaned.


“Are you suggesting that coconuts migrate?” Grif was now reciting quotes from Monty Python and the Holy Grail to himself, including accents and voice inflection, as he continued his never-ending massacre of the plant life.

“Well, it was either that or it is the African or European Swallow that carries them,” Pensword quipped as he swept his blades through the courtyard. He was dumbfounded at how overgrown the walls and outer areas of the building had become, although he was happy to note that his tower had yet to be touched. “At least he isn’t trying to sing the song that never ends anymore,” he muttered to himself.

“It just goes on and on, my friends!” Grifs started immediately.

“Ni!” Pensword shouted. As he spread his wings to cut down two vines that were trying to entomb him.

“Pensword, remind me to strangle you when this is over,” Vital Spark grumbled as the sigil finished its rounds, and hovered over the middle of the courtyard. “Everypony, get ready! It’s about to get frigid in here,” he shouted as the pearl on his focus began to gather energy into it.

Meanwhile, the vines below had grown and adapted to their antics, and a heavy roar sounded as a thick coagulated mass of vines and Timberwolf branches lumbered its way out of the forest. Its maw was gigantic, and its eyes glowed green as the thick Timberwolf skulls on its shoulders acted like pauldrons. Its fingers were made from sharpened tree boughs covered in black thorns that dripped with a bluish-green sheen, and thick green sap tinged with black dropped liberally from its mouths onto its vines as it shambled towards the wall.

“Grif, can you take care of that monster? Also, What is your quest?” Pensword shouted in a desperate hope to break the loop he had brought upon themselves. Luckily for him, it worked.

“To kick some ass!” Grif said with a smile. “Meep meep!” With that, he charged the creature head-on. He assaulted the monster from all sides, removing chunks of its body.

Pensword didn’t know what to say about the road runner antics. Then again, he did get the woodpecker laugh. “Right.” He walked up to one of the pods, and tore it open. He nosed the Pony awake, before pointing to another section. Their numbers had grown to about thirty ponies in the courtyard fighting back against the vines, though it looked like they were hard pressed.

Vital Spark concentrated as the behemoth drew closer, and tried a desperate move. “Taze, forgive me,” he mumbled to himself, before drawing up onto his hind legs, and spreading his forehooves wide, while his staff hovered in front of him. “Oh, mana, which dwells in all living things, come to me!” Tendrils of colored light ran from the earth surrounding the castle, the stones, some few plants, and the clouds in the skies to enter the pearl on his focus. He smirked. “SD Gundam Force, eat your heart out.”

Seizing his focus with both hooves, Vital Spark pointed it at the plant monster as a giant seal spread over the top of it, and a last line the size of a ship’s mooring rope connected to the matrix. “Pensword, Grif, I need you and everypony else to pull out somewhere safe. This one’s an AOE spell, and it’s gonna be a doozie!”

“When did you play Age of Empires?” Pensword asked in confusion as he worked to cut down more vines.

Vital shook his head. “Area of effect, Pensword. Area of effect.”

“SPEED IS KEY!” Grif shouted in an Irish accent as he began grabbing Ponies, and carrying them away, before returning for another pair in what could be considered blinks of an eye. When they were all gone, he shouted, “NOW PUNCH THAT TIMBERWOLF IN THE FACE LIKE A BOSS!

“Hey, Grif! This one’s for you!” The sigils began to glow brighter as magic poured along the lines linking the spell matrix into a virtual web of glowing blue magic, while Vital’s horn and focus both flared. “YOU! SHALL NOT! PASS!

He slammed the base of his staff onto the sigil as a bright blue flash practically blinded the clearing. A loud roar sounded, followed by a deep, booming series of cracks and groans. High-pitched shrieks echoed throughout the castle walls, before dying off. As the light finally dissipated, a thick layer of frost covered the cobbles and stones of the castle. The vines had all been turned to solid ice, and where the behemoth had once stood, a craggy mountain of ice now waited in its place. If this were an ice sculpture contest, it would likely win first. Vital panted heavily as he leaned on his focus.

“J.R.R. Tolkien, you rock,” he managed to say between breaths. Then his body began to tremble. “I, uh . . . think I need to lie down.” He promptly dropped onto his barrel. “Y’all think . . . you can take care of the rest?”

FINISH HIM!” Grif flew up to the giant frozen monstrosity with a tuning fork, and lightly rapped it on the head. For a second, nothing happened. Then a series of cracks crawled across the creature’s form, expanding as they went, until they reached the base. It shook, it trembled, and then it shattered into chunks of ice and frozen wood. “KO! FATALITY!

“Okay, Mr. Fighting game announcer dude . . . thing.” Pensword didn’t know what else to say to that. He gaped at the breadth the spell had covered, and listened as he heard some of the vines shattering under their own weight.

In a matter of seconds, Grif was by Vital’s side, even as the Unicorn’s head dropped to the floor. Before it could touch, he and his focus both were in Grif’s arms as the Gryphon carried him through the air. “Row to the ship! Row to the ship!” he shouted in an interpretation of Captain Hook as he carried his cargo towards the Gantrithor.

Pensword watched the two go, then finally snapped back to attention. Vital Spark had given them an advantage. They couldn’t afford to waste it. “Push forward. Secure the walls. I want us to maintain the space we have won. Stick to fire control for the moment. We can push forward when we have more troops.” He moved to one of the higher places to better coordinate efforts to release the snared guards, and organize the castle’s defense. “And where in Faust’s name is Hammer Strike?”


Hammer Strike continued his warpath, burning anything in his way, until he was free to move once again, making his way topside. Every now and then he would find one of the guards tangled in the vines. Apparently they’d all been given orders to retrieve him.

While never dealing with them directly, Mother Nature summoned random weeds and other plants to attack the vines when possible, or would sometimes entice a swarm of insects from seemingly nowhere to devour what they could.

“Sir, what are your orders?” One of the guards asked as he slammed to the ground. “How can I help down here? If we lose inside the castle, the work up top would be meaningless.”

“If you want to help, then follow me, until I can get you something that can help,” Hammer Strike growled out, before shaking his head. “Just follow me, until I can get you equipped.”

“Sir!” The guard saluted as he drew his short sword, and started to hack away at the vines that were blocking a doorway.

After burning and cutting away enough vines to open up his personal armory, Hammer Strike sorted through several shelves worth of weapon parts. “Why make a flamethrower?” he muttered. “You can make fire on a whim. We don’t need it. Blah, blah, blah. I was right in making this,” he finished as he put a few parts together, and loaded a red crystal into the back slot of the device. He pointed it towards a small patch of vines that were growing into the room, and pulled the trigger. A fountain of flame burst from the barrel, coating the vines, and reducing them to ash. He allowed himself a small smile as he handed the flamethrower over to the guard, whose torso was spattered with greenish goop from the vines he’d hacked. “You want to help? Then burn the vines!”

The guard's eyes widened, and his mouth drew upwards in a grin. “Yes, sir.” He cackled as prepared he weapon for its next use.

“Hopefully we will be able to end all this soon,” Mother Nature said. “Mama thinks she left her stove running.”

“Don’t question the embodiments. Half the time they never make sense anyways,” Hammer Strike muttered as he continued his way to the exit. After clearing away enough, they finally made it to the main doors, and out into the courtyard.


Pensword looked down from his post, and a smile grew on his muzzle. “Hammer Strike!” he yelled. “We need the gates cleared! Vital did great with the ice, but the vines are starting to get back, and we’ve lost the outer wall already!”

“Then go to my armory, grab a flamethrower for yourself, and a few others, and get to work,” Hammer Strike replied.

Pensword frowned. Something felt off about his friend, but there was no time to question it as he signaled with his wings for the troops to follow. “We’ll return quickly. Start without us,” he said as he vanished into the castle with ten soldiers in tow.

There was the sound of a rushing wind as Grif suddenly appeared. “Oh, Hammer Strike! Nice of you to join us. We’ve had so much fun! Destroying weeds, slicing weeds, killing weeds, and then there was this giant timber wolf monster thing we had to kill, and now Vital Spark’s exhausted, so I left him on the Gantrithor! That's where I evacuate everyone, because it’s above the ground, and you know what the weeds can’t do?” It is of note to mention this was all said within a single breath.

“Good grief. It’s affecting you, too,” Hammer Strike groaned. “Yeah, yeah. Weeds can’t fly. I’ll extract the chaotic energies later. Just help me clear the vines off the walls, so we can keep them back with the flamethrowers.”

Grif blurred for a tenth of a second. “Done!”

“And keep them off the wall, until the flamethrowers are here,” Hammer Strike finished.

“Will do!” With another rush, Grif was gone.

Ten minutes later, Pensword and his troops returned in force, each armed with the proper gear to handle the threat. They marched out of the now-open gates to the bridge as they started to burn away the vines around the stone structure, while three more exited the backway to burn out the vines in the clearing. The air smelt of flames and burning wood. A few Unicorns were already gathering sap from the vines for later analysis. One particularly large Earth Pony had donned himself in some thicker heat-resistant armor to the point where you could really only see his eyes through the helmet’s visor.

“Let’s burn,” his deep bass voice purred from behind the helmet.

Pensword smirked from behind his own mask at the words as he allowed the lone flame trooper to pick his targets.

“Focus on the inner growth. Once we secure New Unity, we’re sending a team out to Ponyville. I’ve been alerted that we aren’t the only ones dealing with this,” Hammer Strike ordered.

“Great.This forest is going to destroy us all, and it is expanding its borders,” Pensword groused in annoyance. “How did we not see these vines before?”

“They’re chaotic in nature. Discord planted them, apparently, over a thousand years ago, during his last reign,” Hammer Strike explained. “At least, that’s what I’m being told. And the chaotic energy clinging to Grif and myself confirms it.”

“Oh great,” Pensword muttered. “We’ll talk about how you . . . actually, no. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know why you know this information, but I am going to have a very, very stern talk with Discord, guaranteed, when this mayhem is taken care of.”

“I’d be surprised if he even remembered doing it,” Hammer Strike muttered. “Just focus on our location for now. I’m sure the Elements are working on something to at least secure the town.”

“Of course, the Elements are always involved. Thank Faust for that.” Pensword looked to the sky. “We are working on getting the bridge fully cleared, just to let you know.”

“As long as we secure New Unity, do whatever it takes.”

“Outer wall has been secured,” Grif said with a salute. “I borrowed a bunch of old vegetable oil and stuff from the kitchens, and had some Gryphons help me paint it everywhere. Then we lit it on fire. It should keep the vines away for the next half hour or so,” he said in his rapid speech.

“Oh for crying out–” Hammer Strike’s hoof burst with blue flame as he reached towards Grif. A black crystal formed in his hoof, and Grif started to calm down. “There. Why didn’t I do this sooner?”

Grif stumbled for a moment, and then slid to the ground with a relaxed sigh. “You're telling me. I’ve been bouncing off the walls since two in the morning.”

Pensword was walking back with an empty tank. “Well, you can rest later. We need to inform Ponyville that we are going to start clearing a path towards them. Frankly, you are the fastest flyer we have access to.” He frowned. “Which is still a sore point to Lightning Dust.” He kept walking. “Can you get to them, and help clear one of the buildings to serve as an emergency shelter?”

“Well I can’t move like I was before, but I’m fairly certain I can hold these things back. There’s some weird magical field that keeps them from tearing or slicing easily, but, fortunately, Vigilance and Vengeance seem to be able to ignore it.”

“Good. If you need to bring a few extra talons, do so. I just want to make sure that Ponyville doesn’t feel alone.” He looked to the sky. “Also, I fear for the situation in Canterlot. The sky is split, and that means that something is stopping Luna and Celestia from fulfilling their duties,” Pensword said.

“I’ll be back with more info when I can. Until then, keep everyone on the ship, and don’t do anything unnecessary.” With a flap of his wings, Grif was gone.

Pensword looked to Hammer Strike. “Well, what is necessary to keep us free of the vines?” he asked with a wicked smile.


The site from the air above Ponyville wasn’t good. Houses were covered in vines, ponies were panicking or trapped in there homes, and the chaos energy seemed to be interfering with Unicorn magic. Already, Grif had to stop several times to free Ponies from their homes or slice them out of constricting vines. At last, he came across what looked to be . . . a panting Zecora? The vines were that bad? She was busy sprinkling powders on the plants. It seemed to work for a time, causing them to shrivel, but more just sprouted up in their place a few minutes later.

Deciding time was of the essence, Grif let himself drop to their location, landing in a classic superhero style. “Hello, Zecora. You want to explain why vines are trying to eat New Unity?”

Zecora sighed. “I’m afraid I know not the source of this blight, but I have faith that the Princess will help set it right. They have already left to alter the course, find the Tree of Harmony, the Elements’ source.” She promptly whacked a tendril that was creeping up behind her with her staff at a key point, and a pitiful whine emanated from the vine as it fell limply to the ground.

Grif unsheathed his blades, and began hacking away. “Zecora, you know a lot about a lot. Back in New Unity, Gryphon-made, Pony-made, or even Hammer Strike’s weapons seemed to bounce off the vines like they had some kind of film. Do you know why my blades can ignore it?”

Zecora looked on Grif with ancient eyes that seemed almost to glow as the green in them became more prominent, though this was a richer green, filled with life. “You know of magic, and depth of will, but there are powers that go deeper still. As a land was once struck with death and strife, one gave up all to bring power and life. As it was in Narnia, when the stone table cracked, so, too, in Equestria with a loving act.”

“Well, I suppose that's better than noth-” he was cut off as he heard the nearby foliage rattling, and raised his blades for another bout, only to recognize the flash of purple scales and clumsy wings that identified Twilight and her number one assistant.

“Don’t swing! Don’t swing!” Spike cringed from his place on Twilight’s back.

The blades dug into the earth. “Twilight, what in the Winds’ names are you doing here? The problem’s not over.”

Twilight sighed. “The girls felt like it’d be better if I came back and helped here, since, well, you know.” She lowered her head, and shook it.

“She’s a Princess,” Spike said as he jumped off Twilight’s back, and onto the ground.

“Yeah, no,” Grif said as he grabbed Spike by the spines on the back of his neck, picked him up, and tossed him back on Twilight’s back. “Come on. Let’s go, before Discord comes here, and starts a meme or something.”

Twilight cocked her head in confusion. “Grif?”

“Twilight, take it from someone who is generally not the one with the plan. Those girls are going to be eaten alive by vines without you. Honestly, sending you back here was an exercise in bad logic.”

“But they all asked me to come back here. Equestria will need me if Luna and Celestia don’t come back. I don’t want to disappoint them.”

“And your first official order of business becomes neglecting your duty to your people? Not the smartest political move, my friend.” Grif shook his head. “Your duty to Equestria is to be out there finding out what's behind this, so you can tell your friends how to kick its butt.” He sheathed his swords. “A general who doesn’t take the field gains few friends amongst the soldiers.”

“But what if they get angry? What if I fail? What if I mess things up so badly that everything just falls apart? What if–?”

“What if the moon loses its gravitational lock around the planet, and takes a stroll across the galaxy? What if the sun gets a growth spurt, and the planet is consumed in a giant fireball where everybody but Hammer Strike and Celestia dies?” Grif looked at her. “What if monkeys fall from the sky, or peanut butter sandwiches develop sentience, and start a plan to take over the world? You want to consider what-ifs, I can go all day, and all night, and all night, and all day. It’s a favorite pastime of Pensword’s and mine. I can what-if for years. All it’ll do to worry about all the what-ifs is drive you mad. Your friends get angry? They’ll get over it. If you fail? Get up, and try again. And believe me, if you mess up that badly, I’m sure Hammer Strike or Cadence will step in. Trust me. The only thing staying back here will do is make you regret it.”

Twilight’s lip trembled. “You really think so?”

“Twilight, you’ve read my history already. You know how many times in the war I had to rely on a leap of faith. Faith in your friends is important, but faith in yourself, that's what’ll get us past this crisis. And if it makes you feel any better, anything tries to stop us, and I’ll turn it into confetti. Deal?”

Twilight reached up, and took Grif’s talons. “Deal.

“Good. Now, seriously, let's get out of here while Discord’s distracted.”

“Just one more thing, Grif, before we go.”

“Yes?”

“What’s a meme?”

Grif stared at her with a blank face. “. . . I’ll tell you when you’re older, Twilight.”


Pensword slammed against a tree with a grunt. He pushed himself to his hooves as he stared at the cragadile that had become agitated and angry with all the vines about. It didn’t help that those flowers had put his squad of four Pegasi and three Thestrals to sleep. He coughed a little, before picking up a stone. He would have to lead this creature away. He couldn’t afford to lose any troops today.

“Oi, you rocky lizard, pick on something a little more feisty!” He threw the stone, and smirked as it hit the cragadile in the eye, causing it to hiss and thrash just like a saltwater croc in Australia back on Earth. Pensword opened his wings to fly, only for a vine to suddenly snake out, and snag his left hind hoof to yank him down to the ground. He rapidly faceplanted in the dirt. His ears perked as he heard the distinct sound of galloping hooves. He hoped they were live hoof beats, and not his family and troops of old racing to welcome him to the Glens. He twisted to attack the vine, even as the cragadile moved towards him.

Pensword twisted to the right just in the nick of time as the jaws of the cragadile snapped shut over the tether, breaking it. Then he twisted the other way, and kicked the monster's snout as he took to the air, and landed in a tree that had been wrapped in the vines. He smirked as the flowers snapped to attention, and pumped their pollen in the beast’s face. His smile faded when the beast kept moving. It took six blasts before the cragadile slowed down, and finally slumped to the ground. Pensword took a moment to let go of the breath he’d been holding, and twitched his mouth as a twinge of pain came from his hoof. “Okay, sprained hoof. Flying to keep off it. Come on, Pensword. Twilight will be heading in here to help soon. She always does.” He winced in pain as his fetlock throbbed. “Where are they?”

“Where’s who?” a familiar, cheery voice asked from behind.

“Pinkie Pie, watch out! Vines!” he yelled instinctively as he looked around for the next tendril to try to take them. Strangely enough, none came. “Where are you all?”

“Over here, darling,” Rarity called as she pranced into the clearing with Seamripper hovering next to her. Its sharp blade had been coated in the vines’ ichor. “Honestly, Pinkie Pie, it’s bad enough we had to leave Twilight behind. We can’t afford to get separated right now,” she chided as the rest of the mares caught up. Their elements glittered in the mixture of light and darkness that was this strangest of days.

“See? I told you. It’s always on a Tuesday,” Applejack said pointedly.

“Big deal!” Rainbow harrumphed. “That still doesn’t mean something bad always has to happen on a Tuesday. Besides, Tuesday’s special for me. I got my cutie mark on a Tuesday.”

“You’re right. Fort Triumph fell on a Tuesday,” Pensword answered with a smirk. It faded quickly. “Can you repeat yourself? Because I thought you said you left Twilight behind.” His tone became much more serious as his eyes narrowed.

Rainbow Dash chuckled nervously. “Yeah . . . about that.”

“Now, now, let’s not all go backtracking again. We all agreed she’d be safer, if she stayed in Ponyville, and that’s that. She’s a princess, after all. She’s got subjects to worry about, and a kingdom to help run,” Applejack said.

Pensword took a very interesting shade of red that mixed poorly with his face. “YOU HAVE THE ELEMENTS! A WEAPON THAT NEEDS SIX WIELDERS AND USERS, AND YOU SENT ONE OF THEM HOME? HOW THE TARTARUS WILL YOU EVEN USE THEM WHEN YOU GET WHERE YOU’RE GOING? TWILIGHT HAS TELEPORTATION POWERS. YOU COULD HAVE SENT HER TO NEW UNITY FOR TROOPS! DO YOU REALIZE WHAT A STUPID, IRRESPONSIBLE, DIMWITTED, ROOKIE, SELFISH ACTION YOU JUST TOOK?” he bellowed. And then, before another word could be said, a cragadile fell from the sky, landing on its back, clearly dead with “You’re all idiots!” quite clearly carved into it’s belly. With a blast of wind, Grif and a windswept-looking Twilight and Spike appeared at the edge of the clearing. Grif was clearly trying to maintain a glare as his body vibrated.

Grif moved over to Pinky Pie, and looked her as clearly in the eye as he could. “I sent a sign from above! These nuts are toasty, and did you know six is equal to the power of Steve?” His eye was twitching oddly.

“Okay, so, apparently Grif’s absorbed just a bit too much chaos magic while fighting off these vines, and it’s making it hard for him to communicate, but he’s kinda asking if any of us realize what we almost did,” Pinkie said as her eyes suddenly widened. “Oh. . . .”

“Sixteen candles on a seven layer cake, and my monkey named Randle would Pony pokey across a sandwich. With a duck!”

“Yeah. Grif says, ‘we took the pommel and the sheath, and sent the blade home.’ Apparently, we didn’t consider the fact that Twilight is the one who knows the details about this, and he’s kinda pointing back at all the times Twilight’s saved us from the brink of disaster. You know, like that time with the mirror pool, and then there was the Changeling invasion. Ooh, that was fun using you as a gun, Twilight. Can I do that again some time? Ooh, ooh, ooh, and then there’s the time our other selves helped Twilight to save a parallel dimension from a power-hungry corrupted Unicorn that wanted to invade Equestria!” She took a deep breath. “Oh, and Rarity? He’s surprised at you, because he thought between your detail-oriented mind and his training, you would have picked up on the fact sending away the catalyst to the Elements was a bad idea.”

“Gorgonzola popsicle pastry on a Sunday covered with Breezies next to garglefunk.” Grif slow clapped sarcastically. Well, he tried to slow clap. He literally clapped so fast that it circled right back round to slow again.

“Mmhmm. Okay. . . .” Pinkie was carefully rubbing her chin. “So he’s either pointing out that, politically speaking, if Twilight came back early from looking for the princesses, it would throw suspicion entirely upon her, making her reign questionable until the inevitable day it sparks a civil war with Equestria, where a lot of Ponies could die, followed by a sarcastic good job and a slow clap; or he wants a jumbo order of raspberry cookies, raspberry chocolate cupcakes with raspberry cream cheese frosting, raspberry tarts, and a whoooole lot of raspberry treacle.”

Pensword was watching this exchange with a mixture of utter disbelief, sheer frustration, and just a tad of mirth. The conversation was quite literally insane, funny, and serious at the same time. He didn’t know what to do, other than sit in his tree, and watch the exchange progress.

“Look, girls, like it or not, I’m here now, and Grif has a point. If we don’t work together, like we have before, then we may never find out what happened to Celestia and Luna. I just can’t live with that, especially since I’m still learning what it means to run a kingdom. I may be a Princess, but I’m your friend first, and, right now, my instincts are telling me that we need to stick together. Besides, you girls need me, if we’re going to use the Elements on whatever it is that’s causing this in the first place.”

Fluttershy was the first to move, and immediately hugged Twilight. “The others don’t want to say it, but we missed you, Twilight.”

Rarity blushed as she approached. “Well, darlings, I . . . suppose we might have been just a tad too hasty. I mean, after all, how could we possibly have tried to do this without Twilight? It would be like making a beautiful ball gown without a stole to tie it all together.”

Pinkie laughed from her place on Grif’s back. “This feels fun,” she buzzed. “Oh, and I vote Twilight stays, too.”

Applejack facehoofed. “Anypony else gonna say I was wrong?”

“Well. . . .”

“Rainbow Dash!”

“What? You heard what they had to say. I mean, I’m stubborn, too, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Besides, are you really going to risk sending her back through the forest again, when those vines have grown that much already?” Rainbow Dash asked as she pointed back the way they’d come. The vines had thickened into a heavy wall with large bulbs that breathed out mist, and snatched at whatever they could that moved. “Like it or not, either we go on together, or we go back together, and no matter what we choose, it’s gonna be together.”

“Good. This will prevent any civil wars. Baron Blueblood would love an excuse to try and wrestle more control,” Pensword muttered. “Still, you girls should continue on. Grif and I will help keep your flanks clear.”

“How in tarnation are y’all gonna do that all by yourselves?” Applejack asked pointedly.

“Determination,” Pensword answered. He looked to the Gryphon. “His speed, my sharp blades, and the fact that if we fail here, then Equestria could be plunged into chaos ripe for other nations to reap our resources and research.” He turned around, being careful not to place his bad hoof on the ground, and pressed into a less dense area. “Now let's move, before these vines wall us in all the way.”

Applejack sighed. “All right, but y’all better stick close. We don’t want anypony else gettin’ hurt.”

Grif said nothing. In a fluid motion, he drew a blade, and vanished. Pinkie looked curiously down at the empty air beneath her as the vines within eyesight began to fall to shreds.

“Huh. That's new,” she said.

“You’ll get use to it,” Pensword shouted from a tree branch as he fought some more vines.

“Come on, girls. This way!” Twilight called as she summoned her focus, and ran forward.


Less than an hour later, Grif and Pensword found themselves right back where they had started as the two continued to perform vine control, while Twilight and the others had vanished down a staircase leading into the cliff face on which new Unity’s back rested. Every once in awhile, a stray shout or a roaring sound heralded the burning of vines taking place within the castle walls. The glitter from Vital Spark’s spell had begun to fade, but the vines still held back from the edge for whatever reason.

Pensword looked to Grif, but had given up on trying to talk to him, due to the sheer incoherency of his sayings. He looked around as he bit and pulled at a small clump of the tendrils that had grown up between his hooves. “Great. I hope Hammer Strike is having fun killing these things,” he grumbled.

Grif shrugged, clearly as annoyed as Pensword was about the lack of communication. He’d taken to sharpening his talons on a whetstone, after he’d blunted them trying to cut an entirely different stone.

“Right. We wait, and hold. Hope they fix whatever it is, and–.” He paused. “Why did we never send search parties into the ravine?”

Grif carved Conor into the ground in front of him.

Pensword took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “Why am I not surprised? I will have words with him when this crisis is over.”

Grif shrugged noncommittally as he swung Vigilance, and bisected another sprout as it popped up.

Pensword grinned as he cut down a few more with a yell that sounded very much like a certain hero with a green cap. “Wish they dropped rupees.”

Grif rolled his eyes, drew a ruby from his pack, and flicked it at Pensword.

Pensword chuckled. “Thank you.”


The Two Heavies both stood by Hammer Strike as each attacked, and pulled at the stalks, while Hammer Strike killed them at the base. One of them took a deep whiff, and suddenly stopped. “Why do I smell Mama’s stew?” he turned to ask his fellow Heavy.

“Yeah.” The other heavy stopped, took another whiff, and turned to face the Pony lord. “Why does Hammer Strike smell like Mama's stew? Mama does not like visiting or leaving home. Too much work.”

“Why am I only partially surprised?” Hammer Strike questioned. “Wait a minute. I’m more than partially surprised, actually.”

“Hammer Strike will answer question, please,” the red Heavy said as he cracked his neck.

“If I’m correct about the guess, then it’s because of the vines as to why she visited.”

They both looked crestfallen. “We hoped Mama would have visited us.”

Hammer Strike shrugged. “She might still be around. So, hey, if you want to look, go for it.”

The heavies shook their heads. “No, Mama would say to finish job first. We finish job, then look for Mama,” the blue Heavy said.

“Da,” the red Heavy agreed.

“Then continue to help me clear the vines, yeah?”

“Da,” the two responded. “So what you think of Mama? Not many see her,” the Heavy in the blue uniform said.

“Not really sure what I think of her. Didn’t talk for long.” Hammer Strike shrugged. “That, and the anger due to chaos magic clinging to me didn’t help matters much.”

“Here. Have sandvich. It will help,” Red said as he pushed it in Hammer Strike’s direction. “Give you more energy to focus on vines.”

“No, the sandwich won’t help with chaos energy clinging to me,” Hammer Strike refused. “That, and I’m not hungry.”

“Just try. Never know what good sandvich can do till you try. Besides, the olive is always good.”

“I’m not kidding on the ‘I’m not hungry’ part. I just ate.”

“When you get hungry, come tell us, and we will give you sandvich,” Red Heavy grumbled. “Is very special offer. We only share with family.”

“I’ll see to it, then. But seriously, keep at it with the vines. I’d rather not have any more troops captured.”

“We are,” both responded as two more guards fell from the pockets they tore open. “Heavies not have so much fun since little bugs swarm castle. Watch your hind leg. Vines are growing sideways.”


“They’s all broken,” Grif said as he held one of the plunder vines in his talons, while a pure white light moved down it’s length, and it crumbled to nothingness.

“Finally,” Pensword panted. “This was tough, insane, and, frankly, I think those that fought deserve tomorrow off.”

“You? Take a break?” Grif laughed, before stopping. “Wait, I actually meant to say that. And that! It’s finally coming out right!”

“That is good. We fought to our limits. We need to take at least one day to rest.” He sighed wearily as he plopped to his hindquarters. “Not everypony is as strong as you and Hammer Strike.”

“And yet I know you. You’ll be back at your desk in the morning.” Grif shook his head.

“Oh no, I am going to be at the desk after noon. Right now, I am going to find Lunar Fang, Fox Feather, and Moon River, and I am going to sleep. I think I have been awake for eighteen hours fighting.”

“Yeah, well try–” and without finishing his sentence, Grif collapsed to the ground with a loud thud. After having burned up a week's worth of energy on three hours of sleep, his body no longer cared where he’d rest.

“Right,” Pensword said. “Better get to the Gryphon Compound first, then go find my mates and daughter, and sleep,” he muttered as he took to the air. It lasted for a few seconds, before he felt the burning in his muscles as a cramp started to come on. He swiftly landed, and folded his wings, before he began to limp towards the compound gates to get some flyers to carry Grif back home, muttering darkly all the while.


Vital Spark groaned as he slowly came to in a dark room. The curtains had been drawn over the window, but the wooden floor and cabinets were familiar enough for him to recognize where he was.

“What am I doing on the Gantrithor?”

“Grif brought you here after you fainted,” a familiar voice answered frankly as Clover stepped out of the shadows with a pitcher and a cup in her magical grip.

“Oh. Heheh. I guess I might’ve bit off a little more than I could chew.” Vital sighed. “Am I in trouble, Clover?”

“I think we’re going to have to work on energy transference, and storage theory. You shouldn’t have attempted that on your own mana alone,” she said as she poured from the pitcher, and hovered the cup to Vital’s hooves.

“Would it help if I said I didn’t?” he asked as he took the proffered drink, and swallowed. He promptly made a face complimented by a sound suitable to express his disgust. “Judging from that horrible taste, I’m guessing this is supposed to be a potion to help restore my mana reserves?”

“Yes, and you're going to need a few of them.”

Vital sighed. “Thought as much. But seriously, I meant it when I said I didn’t just use my own mana reserves. I . . . kind of tried something stupid, and risky, but it worked. Worst case scenario, if it hadn’t succeeded, Grif would’ve found another way to cut that plant golem down to size, and I’d still be here.” He took another swig. “Am I going to have to drink that entire pitcher?”

“No. You’ll have to drink three.”

“Well, I guess that’s a sacrifice I was willing to make.” He sighed. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Just don’t do anything stupid again,” she sighed.

“Clover, you do realize I’m a part of a select group of individuals who raise stupidly crazy plans to an art form, right?”

“And you're the only one of them without crazy luck, stupid endurance, or on-the-spot brilliance to work to your advantage.”

“Well, when you put it that way. . . .” He sighed. “You know, I’m surprised you still haven’t asked about where I got the extra juice. Have you visited Lacroa before or something?”

“I assumed you must have pulled it from something without fully realizing it.”

“It was a gamble, but it was a conscious decision,” Vital said as he gulped down his second glass. He made a rather indelicate sound. “I feel like I’m going to gag.”

“That happens sometimes.” She nodded. “The gagging, anyways. Next time, if you have to gamble, at least stack the deck a little.”

“I’ll try to remember that for the future.” He hummed to himself a moment. “You wouldn’t happen to have a technique that lets you store mana in a gem or focus for later use, would you?”

“Yes. And several other techniques. And you’re going to be learning all of them.”

Vital Smiled as he slumped back onto his pillows. “You know what? I know it’s going to sound weird to say, but for some reason, I can’t wait.”

“Optimism. Don’t worry. Like most side effects, that, too, will pass,” she said, smiling sinisterly.

Vital laughed. “Thanks, Clover. I needed that.” Then he yawned. “Never would’ve thought using that much mana would make me so tired. But before I get back to sleep, I’ve got to ask, is everything all right below?”

“It seems like the problem’s been finished, though Grif and Pensword are dead on their hooves and paws respectively.”

“I’d ask if you had any word on what happened, but knowing you, you’d just leave me with a cliffhanger anyways.” He chuckled. “Thanks for checking up on me, Clover. I really appreciate it.”

“Get back to sleep, Vital Spark. I’ll be back with your next dose in a few hours.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Vital smiled as he let the darkness take him. This time, it would be sweet, and restful.

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