• Published 25th Aug 2018
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Sunset Shimmer Hunts the Undead - Rune Soldier Dan

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Equestria 3: Revelations

Tirek roared – but this time, it was a noise of joy. Every drop of power the sirens had stolen over the years flooded his body, borne to him in bits and scraps by countless wendigos. The process destroyed them, and Tirek absorbed their willing souls to grow stronger still. His injuries vanished, and his muscles bulged larger than ever.

The portal to his rival abomination's home remained open, and gave a glass-like reflection to the air. Tirek grinned and flexed in the mirror, then gave each titanic bicep a kiss.

Oh, how he missed this. And it was only going to get better once the first city fell.

Tirek raised an eyebrow as something loomed in the mirror. His cocky grin did not fall. He neatly side-stepped as his opponent charged, leaving one leg out to trip the eldritch monster to the ground.

Tirek reached down and heaved it up by the beard-like tentacles. “You’re old!”

A creature from before gods or demons. Old, feeble, and doddering. Tirek laughed as its claws scratched uselessly against his arms.

“You’re fat!” Tirek lifted the face above his head, then let fly with a steam-train fist into its corpulent belly. The thing sailed from his grasp, eyes bulging.

It struck Canterlot Mountain, leaving the fiend mercilessly upright. Tirek pounced in the next second, dishing it a fantastic headbutt with his twin horns.

“And you’re not scary!” Tirek unleashed a hail of punches, offering no quarter. Energized, enthused, and with ten-thousand years of frustration behind him, he worked its stomach and face, laughing even with each of is weakening counters.

He grabbed the monster’s face again and yanked it into another headbutt. It blinked bruised eyes dizzily, trying to slide down and away. Tirek seized its leg and raised the thing high above his head.

With just a brief, smug moment to contemplate how incredibly strong he was, Tirek strode heavily to the portal.

“Now get lost,” he spat, and threw his foe into the mirror. It passed through, and – already worn and unstable – the portal collapsed in its wake. Tirek paused at the sudden stillness, feeling just a touch of regret. He wished the mirror remained so he could see himself: free, mighty, and with a doomed world at his hooves.

Alas. He let the thought depart, and turned slowly towards Canterlot. Maybe he could hold the city hostage and demand a giant mirror…

Nah, he’d waited long enough.


Having once spent a month in Equestria, Principal Celestia found few surprises on her return. Foam-sword duels, Egyptian-type mummies that posed for pictures with tourists, “public executions” that involved tickling the perpetrator until they apologized… she had seen enough to understand it all to be the ho-hum norm. Even her bare few days now in Ponyville had involved three spontaneous musicals and a wildfire sparked by arguing Kirin, solved by liberal dispensation of belly-rubs.

The surprises still came, though, this time in the form of Twilight Sparkle. Celestia had long known intellectually she was a ‘princess,’ though all cues showed her a servant of the royal sisters. Time loitering in Ponyville acquainted Celestia with just how important the young princess was, told through countless tales from all she had touched. Not only that, but many said she was being groomed for succession, and Celestia could not help but wonder what course the human Twilight’s life would take.

They walked slowly together down the… ‘disrupted’ castle hall. A gouged chasm broke apart the crystal floor, helpfully bridged with a rickety slab of wood.

“I’m so sorry,” Celestia said.

“It’s fine,” Twilight sighed, then corrected herself. “It’s not your fault. ‘Discord being Discord,’ you know? Here – you first.”

Twilight gestured to the ad-hoc bridge, but Celestia shook her head. “Twilight, no. You’re the princess, you go first.”

The purple pony laughed and waved down her hoof. “Oh, come on. You’d be a princess by now if you lived in Equestria.”

“I’m no magic prodigy,” Celestia said, rustling her wings like wringing hands.

Twilight made no move to advance, and so Celestia reluctantly lead the way. The young princess followed, far perkier than her ward. “Sure, but we both lead a group of eclectic heroes in the defense of our worlds. If you ask me, that means a lot more than happening to be a magic prodigy.”

Celestia turned to find Twilight nibbling happily on the edge of her hair. Twilight flushed at the attention, then spat it out. “Sorry, bad habit. It helps me relax before a meeting.”

A smile came to Celestia. “How does it taste? Mine’s like cotton candy.”

“Grape bubblegum.” Twilight chuckled, then cocked her head. “But I thought humans didn’t have a taste to their hair?”

Celestia shrugged with her wings and walked on. Their destination was in sight, first door on the left. “Near as I can tell, I’m the only one.”

“Strange. I wonder if you were born with a little Equestrian magic? Like near an artifact, or maybe you have a–”

“HELLO!”

The pony twin of Celestia swooped towards them, booming with unusual cheer. “My student, my twin, it is good to see you both.”

She flew over their door – all that remained of the classroom’s wall. It and several rooms beside had been annexed by the Lord of Chaos for various purposes: strip-mines, gem cutters, smithies, and a break room with a ping-pong table. Discord stood in attendance with Princess Luna and Chrysalis, smiling mysteriously by the teacher’s desk with claw resting on a paper-wrapped package.

Discord slapped a riding crop to the chalkboard, on which was drawn a stick-figure representation of Tirek. Doodles occupied the margins: stink-lines coming from the armpits, “stupid” written and pointed to Tirek’s head, and “D + F” encased in a heart.

“This is Tirek,” he said, needlessly. Twilight took notes. “Well, Earth’s Tirek. He’s a demigod of evil, he’s literally stronger than Death, and he can make lasers powerful enough to write his name on the moon. In approximately now he will get loose and start using Canterlot City as toilet paper.”

Luna raised a hoof. “What is toilet paper?”

Discord cringed and sucked in his lips. “Oh, um. Celestia-two, you want to get this one?”

With her world, city, and baby at stake, Celestia answered quickly. “Later. Please go on.”

“Right.” Discord slapped his crop to the two curved horns on Tirek’s head. “All magic needs a focus, and his are the horns. Break them, you break him. Unfortunately, he’s immune to everything humanity can dish out. Even their most incredible weapons will only be drained of violent energy and empower his might. So tell me, class: what material can possibly contend with a supreme cosmic force for destruction?”

“Ooh-ooh, I know!” Twilight’s hoof shot to the ceiling, and she rocked dangerously in her seat. “Pick me! Pick me!”

“Queen Chrysalis,” Discord called, earning a disappointed groan from Twilight.

Chrysalis fluttered her eyelashes and adopted a doe-eyed look. “Why, the answer’s ‘Fwiendship,’ Mista Discord.”

“Wrong. Twilight?”

“Crystallized harmonic magic!”

“Correct.” Discord tossed a sugar cube that Twilight cheerfully caught in her mouth. Chrysalis did not get one. “The magic in this castle can affect Tirek, but the circumstances behind its use cannot be replicated. There were keys, boxes, and rainbow transformations which never got used or referenced again. Yet the magic is still here. It just needs to be channeled. Harnessed.”

With one flourished tug, he unveiled the package on his desk. Even the Celestias gasped at what laid beneath.

Chrysalis shrugged. “What is it?”

“A warhammer,” Principal Celestia breathed, though it was so much more. Head and shaft were made of the same deep purple crystal that formed the palace walls. Gold spiraled up the meter-long grip and formed seats for gems and crystals embedded at the top and base. The gilded, bright colors of Equestria, married to a weapon capable of crushing skulls.

Discord ran his paw down its length, speaking in low reverence. “Crystallized harmonic magic to break his defenses. Carved runes to give strength to the blow. Forty-karat gold to...”

“Forty-karat?” Principal Celestia asked. “It only goes up to twenty-four.”

“Forty. Karat.” Discord repeated, holding up the weapon with a cheeky smile. “Yes, this warhammer has 40-K.”

Celestia stared. Discord tried again. “Warhammer. 40-K.”

More blank stares, and he set it down with an aggrieved sigh. “Someone out there laughed, I’m sure. Look, here’s the gems: topaz to make it lighter, pure diamonds to guard against Tirek’s unholy might, and rubies to protect you from any sun-magicked alicorn you happen to ride. It is the greatest weapon this world has ever known, and thus I name it… Celestia.”

“Why that?” Principal Celestia looked askance.

“Because I want to see Celestia riding Celestia while wielding Celestia.”

“Riding? But–”

Principal Celestia allowed herself to be interrupted by the brush of feathered wings upon her own. Confused, she turned to see her pony clone standing tall by her side.

The princess looked down kindly to Celestia, then turned to her lover. “Chrysalis, is it ready?”

In response, a silver chain with a strange, gnarled black gem floated over in magic grip and latched around Princess Celestia’s neck.

Chrysalis spoke, answering the unsaid question. “I can only cram so much of my power in there. You’ll be able to stay a pony for a few hours, no more.”

“Entirely sufficient. Thank you, dear.” Celestia brushed a kiss to the changeling’s ear, and brought her gaze back to her twin. “Tirek is huge. You will need height to reach his horns. I can provide this, as well as some power to protect you. Now, let us go. Time is short.”

Luna nodded along sullenly, though did not voice her thoughts. She followed them to the mirror, then brightened. “Mine human sister! Though I am unreasonably prohibited from following, I have something for you as well.”

Her horn glowed, and Celestia’s bikini popped into place on her body. “There! Thou shall be decent upon thy return.”

Twilight hid her ogle. Chrysalis ogled freely, and Discord rolled his eyes.

“Thank you, Discord,” Principal Celestia said. “If not for you, we may have been without hope.”

She spoke with gravity, though the strange being irately waved her off. “None of that, I’m just doing this to annoy Earth’s me.”

Celestia gave a light smile, reminded suddenly of her friends. Harshwhinny, Redheart, Cranky Doodle… so few of them confessed to being ‘good guys.’

“Thank you, all the same. Whatever your motives, you are doing good.”

“A load of bunk,” Discord groaned, though did not fully hide the blush at his cheeks. “Your world is about to be destroyed. Billions dead. Intervening isn’t ‘good,’ it’s the bare minimum for what any decent Lord of Chaos would do.”

“You hear that, dumb-butt!?” He shouted abruptly, storming to the mirror. “I said it’s what any–”

He entered, and the remaining words were spoken on Earth. The Celestias followed, one wearing the hammer in a sling that she felt migrate to her shoulder as they stepped outside. Cold, gray Earth. Slush on the ground, yet it strangely felt warm beneath Principal Celestia’s bare toes. Heat emanated from her neighbor: a white alicorn princess outside Canterlot High. No sign of Discord.

“Ready?” Princess Celestia asked sweetly.

“One thing, first.”

Principal turned to princess. One throat bobbed, then the other sensed the seriousness in the human’s face and matched the motion.

“Why does my hair taste like cotton candy?”

Princess Celestia smiled dotingly and opened her mouth for a drop of quiet, kindly wit.

The human spoke first. “Please.”

Another swallow. Then, “That happened twice, now that I think about it. Whenever someone speculates why I’m like a pony, you conveniently interrupt.”

“I meant no harm,” the Princess said, her expression falling.

Of course. “Of course.” Principal Celestia’s words were soft, though her gaze didn’t move. “I used to wonder if I was like Sunset, but then I’d be you. I’m not even close to being you; we have an even bigger gulf than the Twilights. So why am I like you?”

The smile returned, as gentle as ever. Celestia stiffened, wondering if she would be brushed aside like a child. But instead there came a soft, sad laugh, and winged shrug.

The voice emerged with a fragility strange for the ageless pony. “I don’t pretend to understand why our worlds mirror each other, or why some twins are a closer match than others. I don’t even have a sensible theory for it. Neither does my Twilight, and if she is stumped, I doubt anyone in Equestria could answer that great riddle.”

The large pink eyes moved away. The princess took a hesitant step back, bringing cold into the air. “However, I do know something.”

This time it was a long, alabaster throat that swallowed first, and a human one that copied. Princess Celestia spoke low, smiling towards the ground. “I know that a much younger princess came to this world a very long time ago, and she spent many moons in its keeping. In that time, she met an English knight who was kind, clever, and strong, and this is a rare union in any land. Others called her ‘fey’ and hounded her back to her home, but not before she gave him a child.”

The pink eyes returned to their place, looking with elderly wisdom to the younger twin. Celestia stared for one second, but not two – she stepped forwards, and the princess met her halfway. She touch the white nose, and felt warmth flow through her body. Princess Celestia nuzzled her hand, earning a soft giggle.

They drew closer. Princess Celestia pressed her neck outwards, embracing as ponies do, and the principal returned it with a hug.

“We must away,” the pony said, words tinged with regret. “Climb on my back. I do not know what will happen, but I shall guard you with my life.”

“I’m scared of heights, and I have no idea how to use this.” Principal Celestia took a practice swing with the hammer, almost losing balance. The idea of wielding it while soaring aloft, under fire…

...No choice. “I’ll be fine,” she added, smiling tightly. She slipped onto her twin’s back, noting with a pleasant hum that ponies were a fair bit cushier than horses. She gripped with her knees and a paltry handful of fuzz, willing her gaze upwards as the duo ascended to the sky.


Dusk was falling. Soon it would be night. Tirek drew near, looming with the sun at his back. Beneath him stood puny Canterlot, and puny mankind.

Dusk was falling.

Yet the sun rose. Hot and high to the sky, a meteor of shining light. Such was the aura’s majesty that none could see what flew within: a regal white alicorn in noble regalia, and her rider, bearing a hammer of crystal and gold. Roasted air made a tearing noise as they passed, flying to their foe.

Deep and loud, twin voices called from the light. “We are the Dawn.”

Author's Note:

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