• Published 1st Dec 2015
  • 1,314 Views, 73 Comments

The Void Rift Crisis - Visiden Visidane

A young alicorn seeks information on a world-changing event.

  • ...

The Flash in the Grove - Silva Inber

You've come to the right stallion to tell you of that turning point. I was near His Majesty when it happened, and I was the one to coin the phrase that even our records use. "The Flash in the Grove"...such a sense of drama! It inspires mystery, glory, and beauty in the title alone, and that moment deserved it. The Flash in the Grove perfectly defines the two halves of the Void Rift Crisis: the half where we were on the brink of annihilation, and the half where we mounted a glorious charge against a foul artifact with the Lord of Sunlight at our head.

What happened? Glory happened. While all the Herd writhed, and struggled to push back the Agamanthion's invasions, our King shone. I've seen you ask your questions, sir. I'm sure Lexarius and Gravitas have interesting insights to offer through their actions at that time, but let me make one thing clear: the Void Rift Crisis is Sanctus Dominus' excellence, the story of his rise more so than it is the story of Turbo Pinnae's fall.

The Void Rift Crisis found His Majesty in the Midnight Grove, and what a fitting place to begin his rise towards the Throne. Some may argue that it is not as important as Empyrea, or Elys, where the Agamanthion itself floated, but, symbolically, it was perfect. It holds the Gardens of Repose, the endless garden where the lingering remains of our diminished can be felt the strongest. Sanctus Dominus started here as the one who inherits the will of every ascendant who has come before him. He comes from the place of silence and dark, suddenly shining forth to save us all.

The Flash in the Grove was the first, and the most fitting, manifestation of Sanctus Dominus' kingship. From the First Cycle to that moment, the Midnight Grove was a layer of twilit repose, and comforting dark. A place for reflection, for trying to commune with the very faint presences of our diminished, or for simply relaxing. Casting even a faint artificial light in there was frowned upon. Sanctus Dominus cast aside tradition, and called forth light. You seem underwhelmed. The breaking of that tradition set a precedent that we have observed time and again during the Sixteenth Cycle. He is not popular with his Council of Elders, as you may well know. There is that tournament where he invited wolvenaar representatives, the many times he has overruled council votes, even his choice for his Queen. That first came to be during the Flash in the Grove.

Ah, but I get ahead of myself.

When he saw that even furious attacks from his compatriots could do no harm to the Agamanthion's shields, Sanctus Dominus called forth one of his signature spells; the Sunlight Spear.

A little too simple you might say, but there lies the elegance of it. Sanctus Dominus wielded no artifact to craft that attack. He came up with no grand plan, no last ditch gamble with power he does not know. It was the same sunlight spear he used in Ida, but at a magnitude that defied true comprehension. It was...an exhalation of the power of sunlight, a message to reach the hearts of all those who would even merely find out about it. It was an embodiment of the pure strength of the Herd, unmodified by invention or desperation, merely the steadfast might of one of our greatest. And so is the same for the Sixteenth Cycle. The other heavenly realms must have discovered the trouble in ours. We had lost a great deal, and the very integrity of our world had been damaged. His Majesty relied on no clever bluff to assert our formidable might. He merely demonstrated how strong we remained to both set the other heavenly realms at ease, and to keep them from having ideas.

And what a spear! For the first time in my life, I saw the bright colors that the Midnight Grove perpetually muted with shadow. My eyes burned from my insistence to keep witnessing, but I couldn't turn away. It felt like blasphemy to turn away. He hurled that spear at the spire, and, for a moment, we all held our breaths. Those mighty, impregnable shields cracked, then shattered,as easily as fine crystal.

His Majesty would later explain that Her Majesty pointed out a small flaw in the Agamanthion's shields, and that his sunlight spear struck true because of it. Such boundless humility, and such a perfect match. His wisdom extends to the choosing of his mate; beauty, skill, temperament, even reputation. That he wooed her successfully reveals a charisma to match.

The breaking of those shields roused all of us to a valorous outrage. The planar shadows fell away like scattered leaves. I am no mighty warrior myself, being far more suited to recording duels in Ida than participating in them, but, by the crowns of our rulers, was I inspired at that moment. I had shouted myself hoarse before I realized that His Majesty had attacked the spire itself.

The Seekers of the Sixth have long since studied the remnants of these spires, and have concluded that, while the design marks it as a creation of the Sixth, some of the materials are not of this world, particularly the bone-like substance at the core, which they found to be as hard as diamond.

Hah! Such definitions are but academic in the end. His Majesty's twin blades, empowered with both the power of sunlight and the power of dark, sliced through the spire with the same ease one would have in slicing bread.

If you travel to the Midnight Grove now, you may yet visit the remains of the spire that crashed to the ground after that cut. If those overzealous seekers guarding it allow you to come close enough, you'll find that, while the wreckage has many rough breaks in it, it has a single, perfectly smooth cut. That is the mark of Dominus; a perfect slice amidst jagged breaks, a shining success amidst floundering failures.

And that, good sir, is the Flash in the Grove.