The Lyrist and The Tempest

by Valiant wind

Chapter 3

BOOM!

Lyra’s eyes snapped open to golden sunlight and a shaking ceiling. Something was trembling the entire treehouse. She sprang up on her bed, her blurred sight wandering out of the window. A pillar of smoke rose from the other side of the lake. A circle of flame was licking over the grass, ashes soaring into the sky, its boundary dangerously close to the edge of the forest. She could smell the burned taste even at this distance. She jumped off the bed and rushed downstairs. Throwing her saddlebag onto her back, she bumped open the door—then nearly crushed straight into a ball of black and white feathers.

“Ah! Nightjar!”

“Ah!” Nightjar squeaked, “Ly—Lyra! You—you left so late last night, I got worried so…” she nervously glanced at the lake, “wh—what’s going on? Why is everything—”

“I don’t know, I just woke up—”

“If this continues, it will burn the forest!” Nightjar interrupted, eyes wide with fear, “then the town will be…”

Lyra needed no reminders. She remembered with utter clarity how fast forest fires could spread, and how practically everything within a two-miles range was flammable. Including her treehouse and every single wooden household in Memento.

“Then we have to put it out. Follow me!” she exclaimed, then turned around and dashed for the lake.

“How are we supposed to move the water?” Nightjar was starting to sound horrified, “I should’ve brought a bucket…”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got my magic,” Lyra assured as confidently as she could muster. She lit up her horn as they ran along the lakeshore, reaching all her magic into the lake and shoving water into the air. An orb of water soon floated above her horn, swirling as more water joined in. She discovered with a sank heart as they rounded the lake and approached the flames, however, that things were much worse than they’d looked like. The circle of fire was too large. It made the water she’d exhausted her magic to gather look like a golf ball.

What should I do?! She was surprised at how fast her brain was working, putting such a big fire out…with so little water…

Wait…

Her eyeballs rolled in their sockets. She reared up and raised her head, and then, with all the might she had left, threw the water orb into the sky. Her magic managed to hold the ball just long enough for it to reach its highest spot, before dissipating and allowing it to shatter into millions of tiny droplets. They fell like a miniature rain, staining a wet circle of grass around the flames. The fire drew back as it was incident on the moistened grass, only leaking out at a few dry fringes, which Nightjar quickly pounced over and stomped into submission.

Lyra felt a dizziness in her head. She groaned and collapsed onto a patch of white flowers.

“Lyra!” Nightjar squawked.

“I’m fine…” Lyra muttered as Nightjar took her hooves and supported her up, “just…used too much magic…”

The fire was contained. They sat down, panting for breath, watching as the sparks got lower and lower. Ashes were beginning to settle, dying their surroundings with a layer of blighted grey.

“Great job, Lyra…” Nightjar smiled to Lyra, “your magic…it was awesome!”

“I used all of them up,” Lyra mumbled, “if Twilight was here, she wouldn’t shed a single sweat…”

“Don’t say that,” Nightjar patted her back softly with her one wing, “what do you think has caused this? Such a big fire…”

Lyra’s horn felt sore. It has been too long since she’d focused this much magic at a single point. Rubbing her forehead, she glanced around them. Bits of dirt and burnt plant roots were lying here and there, protruding weirdly out of the grasses and flowers. Some of them were even floating in the lake.

“Looks like something exploded underground—” Lyra cut herself off. That would not explain the fire. She looked back at the circle. The flames had mostly settled, replaced by a thick, black mist.

An explosion, a fire, blasting off the dirt underground… she gasped. The answer was just beneath her throat.

“A meteor…?”

“Wow, it’s true!” Nightjar said, her wing relaxing down, “fire, loud sound, dust flying everywhere…that’s exactly like what they say in the books!” Though still tired, her eyes were starting to glitter, “never thought I would witness one myself!”

Lyra nodded. A falling star isn’t exactly a thing ponies would see every day. She even felt a little disappointed that she didn’t wake up a little earlier. Otherwise, she would’ve seen the entire process: The meteor slashing through the atmosphere, engulfed in golden-red, blossoming a flower of flame when it contacted the land…Minuette and Moondancer would exchange an entire lifetime just to get a single look at it.

“Judging from the explosion, the meteor can’t have been too small!” Nightjar announced excitedly, then jumped forward, "I’m going to have a look at it!”

She ran over to the edge of the circle, then froze.

“Nightjar?” Lyra asked. She made her way to her side and looked down through the smoke. Her eyes went wide as well.

Below her was a giant, gaping round opening almost as wide as the stump of the Golden Oak Library. The hole was in a cone shape, made up of a series of unicentral circles, drilling deep into the rocks of the lake bottom. Its walls were glittering with vitrified sand, the encased stones molten and distorted into strange shapes. And there, lying in the very bottom of the cave, what had rammed into the ground in the literal speed of a falling star, was…

Lyra had to rub her eyes multiple times to make sure they were not fooling her.

…A pony. A grey-coated pegasus mare. Her body was covered by dust, her tattered mane and tail powerlessly flat on the pit’s bottom. Squares of blackness which looked like burns were all over her back and flanks. Her eyes were tightly closed, yet her nostrils were painfully squinting. She was clearly still conscious.

“What in the name of…” Nightjar blinked hard, petrified. She shook her head, reached into the hole, and yelled:

“Hey! Can you hear me? Are—are you—”

Hearing her voice, the mare’s eyes snapped open. They were emerald green, stainless without grime. Her irises wandered around before fixing onto Nightjar. Her lips trembled, then spat out a single word:

“Leave.”

“L--leave? No!” Nightjar cried, “you need help! Lyra! Help me—AH!!!”

She shrieked and flinched back as a cloud of grey rose out of the hole, yanked off a few of her feathers, and dashed straight into the sky. All Lyra heard was a loud swoosh and the sound of a sharp object stabbing into the mud, and the next second she was struck to the ground, pinned onto her back.

It happened so fast. Lyra felt a pain bursting out of her stomach. It was bad. It was even worse than the time she’d accidentally stuck a hoof into Bon Bon’s washing machine. Something warm was splattering all over her, dripping down her belly. She wanted to stand up and see what it was, but her limbs felt powerless.

“LYRA!!!!” She heard a scream of despair.

Then she was smacked on the head, and everything went black.