Rebirth of the Damned

by Borsuq

165. The Fury of Hurricane

Snapping himself out of the utter shock, Arthas took a step back and brought the hammer back for another strike from the echo’s other side. As Hurricane shifted Windtear back to his other forehoof and raised it to block again, he paused mid-strike, brought the hammer back and delivered a weaker blow, but one that his opponent couldn’t defend himself from.

Indeed, Hurricane didn’t have time to raise Windtear in defense. However, as the head of the hammer was about to smash against his ethereal face, he leaned to the side, dodging it, then whirled around, swinging his sword against Arthas. Acting quickly, the paladin retreated his hammer and swung against the blade; even though Hurricane was apparently far stronger than him, he still wielded a heavier weapon and his attacks had greater momentum, which allowed him to deflect Windtear.

With Hurricane’s blade out of harm’s way for a second, Arthas took a step forward, intending to headbutt his opponent. However, with a beat of his wings, Hurricane moved backwards before he could hit him, and slashed with his sword. Fortunately for Arthas, he jumped back the moment Hurricane dodged his headbutt, so Windtear cut through empty air where his head had been.

A gasp escaped Arthas as he felt a sudden pain coming from his muzzle. He resisted the urge to bring his hoof to it to check what was wrong and kept his attention on the fight. However, he did spare a heartbeat to stare at the blade, confused.

“What the… I definitely dodged his strike,” he thought, licking the blood that dripped down his lips. The pain was ebbing away; it must have been a shallow cut, enough to draw only a little bit of blood. Still… “The blade that cuts the air,” Arthas mused, the odd WHIISS!!! sound resonating again as Hurricane swung the sword again, “does it make the air cut his opponent in short range or something?”

Stepping to the side, Arthas brought his hammer down on Windtear, deflecting Hurricane’s strike again. This time, though, the Commander didn’t even give him the time to try and tackle him; beating his wings, he circled around him, briefly disappearing from his line of sight. Acting quickly, Arthas spun around, grasping his hammer in both forehooves as he swung it at the angle so it would strike right where he guessed Hurricane was most likely to attack him from.

His entire body shook as their weapons met. The force of the impact made Arthas take a step back, and he looked at Hurricane attentively, his hammer raised defensively. The Commander landed with his hind hooves back on the ground. Their clash had only made his sword bounce away; Arthas had a feeling that even that was only because the pegasus continued to hold it with just one hoof.

“You’re quicker than I would have thought a pony wearing such armor and wielding such a weapon could be,” Hurricane spoke up, giving him an appraisingly look; his voice no longer carried the trace of disappointment Arthas caught on earlier. Instead, he could hear a little respect in it, and the echo seemed somewhat satisfied. “And your skill with that hammer is quite impressive.”

Arthas in turn found Hurricane’s remark about his speed to be amusing. He had grown used to the Light flowing through him, empowering him as he fought. Now that he was fighting without drawing on Its strength, Arthas could actually feel the true weight of his armor. He could still fight of course, he had been quite strong as a human and was brought back as an earth pony after all. However, it took more effort, and, without the Light refreshing him, he would tire eventually.

Despite that, he wanted to continue fighting with his own strength a little longer. Arthas could tell that so far Hurricane had been taking their fight easy; he hoped he could make him put in a little more effort before he’d fight as he had grown used to.

Cracking a small smile, he replied to Hurricane, “And you’re far more physically stronger than I had expected you to be. Between that, your speed, and your sword skills, it’s no wonder you’re considered to be the greatest pony warrior.”

Hurricane snorted. “I suppose that’s flattering, though I can’t help but feel a little disappointed that nopony in Equestria had ever surpassed me in two millennia.”

“Well, this millennium is only just beginning,” Arthas replied, smirking.

His words amused the echo. “Oh? Am I to assume you believe you can surpass me?” he asked, raising Windtear and pointing it at him, ready for battle.

“Maybe,” Arthas replied, shrugging and reading the hammer. “Though to be fair, I’m not just a warrior. And I suppose I’m not really a pony…” he remarked; though Arthas now considered himself as a pony (as he wasn’t one to deny facts), he was unsure if that would ‘count’ in this case. Seeing Hurricane raise an eyebrow in confusion, he shook his head and added, “It’s a long story, I’ll explain later.”

The echo again snorted. “Good, it’s probably boring anyway,” he remarked, and almost immediately began an attack.

Arthas was ready for that though, and as Hurricane slashed with Windtear, he had already taken a step back (and crouched down for good measure). As the sword was about to pass over him, he swung with his hammer while lunging forward, pushing the blade again, then as he drew closer to the echo he adjusted his grip and brought his weapon back in a powerful swing, aiming for the Commander’s head.

With his blade rendered useless for those next few seconds, as he wouldn’t be able to pull it up in time to block his attack - not to mention that there wasn’t enough space between the two of them for Hurricane to raise the sword in defense - Arthas had expected the pegasus echo to duck beneath it. Instead, Hurricane’s free left forehoof shot towards the hammer and turned a little, and before Arthas realized what was happening, he caught his weapon by the shaft, just below the hammer’s head, stopping his attack just before it could reach him.

“What?!” Arthas thought out of sheer shock, scarcely comprehending that Hurricane had stopped a hammer with just a bare hoof despite seeing it with his own eyes.

He was snapped out of his daze by a strong pull upwards. Hurricane flapped his wings while still holding his hammer, raising the both into the air. Not only that, he had also lifted the hammer high above his head, and brought Windtear back, reading to thrust it through Arthas.

“What?!” Arthas repeated in his thoughts, this time not out of shock but out of sheer ridiculousness of this situation.

However, despite said shock, he remained relatively calm and was able to act. And where most would have let go of their weapon - or allowed themselves to be impaled - Arthas heaved himself up above his weapon, turned slightly and bucked with his hind legs, aiming at Hurricane’s head.

But the Commander was too experienced to give him such an opening. Even before Arthas tried to buck him, he felt the echo release his hammer, causing him to fall down. As he fell, the paladin whirled to the side to avoid Hurricane’s sword. Windtear’s blade scraped against his chestplate, but didn’t cut through it.

A grunt escaped Arthas as he landed on the ground, slightly awkward, but he quickly recovered and readied himself to resume fighting. He managed to do that just in time; Hurricane was already above him, Windtear ready to strike. Arthas dove to the side, avoiding the blade, and, as Hurricane descended, he swung his hammer, his eyes locking with Hurricane as they briefly widened.

Arthas froze. To his shock, he felt as if an invisible force had taken a hold of him; he could not move a single muscle. His hammer stopped before it could reach Hurricane. The echo in turn brought his blade back for another attack.

Almost instinctively Arthas reached for the Light. It filled his heart and spread through him, the unspoken prayer breaking whatever chains had taken a hold of his body and freeing him.

A part of him felt disappointed that he had only lasted this long without the aid of the Holy Light, but the feeling didn’t last long. He might have wanted to try fighting Hurricane equally, as a normal warrior, but Hurricane had clearly not been a “normal” warrior. He was ridiculously strong physically, and Arthas suspected that this wasn’t the only asset he had. So instead of regretting calling upon the Light, he bathed in Its strength, and continued their fight.

Hurricane’s eyes once again widened, this time in surprise, as he saw a soft glow envelop Arthas’ hammer. The paladin swung his weapon to counter Windtear, and he succeeded, striking the legendary blade with force so great that Hurricane’s arm practically flew backwards. Now wanting to give the echo time to recover, Arthas lunged forward and swung again, this time to attack.

Hurricane though had expected that. The moment after Arthas countered his strike he leaped back, helping himself to maneuver with his wings, and as the paladin attacked, he grabbed Windtear with his other hoof, landed placing his hind hooves firmly on the ground, and brought it against the glowing hammer.

Their weapons clashed with great force, almost causing Arthas to release his hold, and they both stopped, each trying to overpower the other.

“Even with the Light’s aid, I can only barely match his strength,” Arthas mused. “At least I managed to get him to use both forelegs.”

“So this is the power Clover spoke of,” Hurricane said, smirking with satisfaction as he looked at head of Arthas’ hammer, enveloped in Light’s glow. “I was wondering how long you were going to hold back.”

“I wanted to get a better measure of your strength and skill before calling upon the Light,” Arthas replied; if he wasn’t trying to overpower Hurricane, he would have shrugged. He avoided direct eye contact as he talked; he wasn’t sure what exactly the echo had done, but he was certain that his glare had immobilized him for a moment. “You know, somepony once told me how not even dragons could look you in the eyes,” he said as he recalled what Daring had told him, making sure to keep his gaze away from Hurricane’s; he focused it below his eyes. “Now I know why it was.”

Hurricane’s echo let out a chuckle. “Useful little trick, huh? Don’t worry, I can’t do it to somepony who’s expecting it. And besides, those with strong will can break relatively quickly, though not as quickly as you had.”

“To be fair, I had a little help,” Arthas admitted with a smirk, thanking the Holy Light in his mind.

His opponent’s muzzle once again curled up into a smirk. “My other tricks, however…”

Arthas frowned as Hurricane had trailed off, but wasn’t given time to ask what he meant. Suddenly, the echo broke away from him, almost unbalancing him in the process. Recovering, Arthas brought his Light empowered hammer to counter Hurricane’s strike as Windtear slashed at him from the side. Once their weapons clashed again, the pegasus whirled around faster than Arthas had expected, attacking him from the other side. The paladin backed away with his hammer pulled back, blocking the strike just in time. However, by doing so he was left slightly unbalanced, and Hurricane immediately took advantage of that. He pushed Windtear down along with Arthas’ hammer, then placed a hind hoof on its shaft to keep it lowered. With the pressure taken off his forelegs for a moment, he let go of Windtear with his right forehoof, and brought it up, apparently intending to punch him.

Frowning, Arthas raised his left foreleg to block his punch. He didn’t need to ask the Light for protection; Hurricane might be incredibly strong, but he was quite sturdy and was wearing plate armor. A mere punch wouldn’t cause him much harm.

It wasn’t until a split second before Hurricane’s hoof collided with his foreleg, when he noticed small cracks of lightnings surround his leg, that he began to reconsider, but it was too late.

With a loud noise that resembled a thunder - only much quieter - Hurricane punched him in the leg he had raised in defense. A current of electricity went through Arthas’ body as he was thrown back, numbing his body. Rolling backwards on the ground, with great difficulty he dug his hind hooves in, stopping himself.

Breathing heavily in pain, Arthas propped himself up, staring at Hurricane. The echo didn’t press his attack, instead he remained where he was, waving the hoof with which he had punched him with slightly pained expression (he had punched solid metal after all), and his hind hoof still on his hammer. As that… lightning from Hurricane’s punch had struck him, Arthas had let go of it from the literal shock, and now he was standing before the pegasus weaponless.

“But not powerless.”

Still shaking off the effects of that lightning, Arthas lifted his numbed foreleg upwards, summoning the Light and gathering Its power in the palm of his hoof. Then he brought it down in throwing motion, blasting at Hurricane with the Light-made hammer.

The echo’s eyes widened in surprise as the hammer surged at him with great speed. He raised WIndtear in defense as he tried to fly away, but the attack came at him too fast. The hammer-shaped Light’s blast smashed against Windtear, the strength of the strike pushing Hurricane backwards.

Not waiting to see how quickly the pegasus warrior would recover, Arthas leaped back to his weapon, picking it up. Keeping his eyes on Hurricane, he noticed that the pegasus managed to stop himself after a mere two yards. However, he flew slightly further back, his gaze on Arthas.

“Impressive offense,” he praised him, nodding in acknowledgment. Narrowing his eyes and smirking, Hurricane added, “How’s your defense?”

Arthas’ eyes widened as he raised Windtear into the air, but not because he was readying for an attack; what shocked him was that the sword was now glowing with the Holy Light. Not like his hammer; it wasn’t enveloped by Its glow, but rather the blade itself emmanated it, as if had captured it.

With a jolt, Daring Do’s words came to him:

And Windtear was the masterpiece of the Crystal Forge; a blade that could cut through everything, as long as it’s wielder’s foreleg had the necessary strength, and was able to absorb magic and blast it back at the attacker.

“Oh…” Arthas exclaimed in his mind, the realization what had happened dawning upon him.

Hurricane didn’t give him much time to ponder and act, though. As soon as he raised the blade, he brought it down; a blast of golden light cast from Windtear, directed right at him. Finding himself in the same position Hurricane had been a moment ago, Arthas raised his forehoof, uttering a silent prayer for protection. The Light began to glow from his hoof, and a barrier appeared around him. As Hurricane’s attack blasted against it, doing him no harm, Arthas channeled the Light again to heal his body from the lasting effects of Hurricane’s punch.

When a few seconds later he was done, he allowed the barrier of Light to disperse. Hurricane, who had been waiting patiently, smirked as Arthas rose on his hind legs, raising his hammer.

“That’s quite impressive as well,” he said, before narrowing his eyes and charging at him.

---

“Anypony wanna bet one of them gets killed?” Storm asked as they watched from their vantage point on a hill about fifty yards away as the battle between Sir Lightbringer and Commander Hurricane continued, finding himself amazed and intrigued… and a little exasperated.

It was certainly a sight to behold, to see the two of them exchange blows like that. Having heard more than a few tales about Commander Hurricane both back at school and during his Royal Guard training, Storm, like most ponies, had considered him to be an undefeatable warrior. Having heard the echo of Clover the Clever say how he was more dangerous in combat than her had only cemented that opinion. And Sir Lightbringer was amazing as well; he was an excellent fighter, and his connection to the Light was stronger than anypony’s (though to be fair, there were a total of six ponies on their world who could call upon the Holy Light).

However, at the same time, Storm couldn’t help but feel a little upset. Not because he considered the whole fight to be kind of pointless; he still did, though less dangerous when they had thought that Hurricane’s echo would be still bound by the magic of the disrupted ritual. He could understand Sir Lightbringer’s desire to test himself against Commander Hurricane. No, what was making him a little upset was seeing just how far they outclassed him.

Storm didn’t have any special ambitions to be some glorious, heroic warrior or anything; sure, it would be nice to be considered such, but he had joined the Royal Guard and then the Order to protect other ponies, and that was his main desire. But watching Sir Lightbringer and Commander Hurricane, first a paladin and second a pegasus, made him realize how much he would have to train before he could hope to match either of them.

Which, aside from any possible feelings of inadequacy this could stir up, didn’t bode well when confronted with what Sir Lightbringer had revealed about his past last night.

“Oh, stop that,” he scoffed at his own thoughts when he realized where his train of thoughts was taking him. Derailing it, he added, “That was in the past. Sir Lightbringer wouldn't turn away from the Light again. Stop being so pessimistic!”

But if somepony as evil and powerful as the old him came around…

“Are you kidding?!” Tucker replied to his earlier question. “I'm hoping one of us doesn't get killed just by watching! I-” he suddenly trailed off, his expression widening in confusion. “Oh wow, I just had the weirdest sense of déjà vu…” he muttered, scratching the side of his head.

Storm glanced at him, wondering just how exactly one could have a déjà vu to something like this, but at the same time Clover spoke up, “I doubt thou need to worry about that, even when he hath been consumed with rage Hurricane would take care to not harm his allies by accident… and besides, I should be able to protect thee if he loses himself in the fight,” she added, as if in an afterthought.

“I would ask how he could possibly harm us by accident when they’re so far away,” Storm began to reply, frowning, “but I’ve just watched him punch Sir Lightbringer with lightning, so I’ll take your word for it.”

Clover let out a brief chuckle. “Yes, his abilities are quite unique. There are- I mean, were, a few pegasi other than him that could use the pegasus’ weather magic without channeling it through clouds, but not on the same scale as Hurricane. Although…” she hesitated, looking at the two fighting ponies thoughtfully, “that punch had less strength in it than I hath seen before… I suspect the necromantic magic that makes up our forms might be interfering with his pegasus’ magic,” Clover said, raising up her ethereal hoof and examining it.

“It didn’t seem to affect you when you had fought with us,” Guard pointed out.

“The pegasi and earth ponies channel their respective magic through their entire bodies to affect weather and earth, while unicorns use their magic through their horn to manipulate energies and giveth them desired form,” Clover replied. “My spells wouldn’t be affected much, and with my mind bound by that interrupted ritual I wouldn’t hath noticed such miniscule difference.”

“So there had been some ‘miniscule difference’?” Storm thought, recalling how easily she had fought all five of them at the same time.

“Anyway,” Clover continued, “as for thine concern, Sir Storm, I would not worry about either of them. Between his fighting prowess and skills with holy magic, Sir Lightbringer would be difficult to critically injure even for Hurricane, and he would stop the fight before it would go out of hoof so badly. Hurricane, on the other hoof… well, he’s Hurricane,” she finished, sounding oddly sheepish and, to Storm surprise, slightly blushing. “‘Tis hard for me to believe that he could lose this fight. I hath never met anypony who could match him in combat, though I will admit it looks as if thine Grand Master is giving him trouble.”

“He’s not yet tapping fully into power of the Light, though,” Serenity spoke up, her gaze not leaving the clashing ponies. “Sir Lightbringer can empower himself further. But… this isn’t the full potential of Commander Hurricane, is it?” she asked, turning to Clover, who shook her head. “So I thought. I’ve read some… hard to imagine stories about the Commander, how he had once fought against a thousand griffons at the same time…”

“Just one of the many amazing feats of Hurricane,” Clover said.

“It's no wonder he's regarded as the greatest warrior of this world.”

Storm almost jumped; Raogrior had been hovering behind them in silence for so long that he had forgotten about her. Glancing at her after she spoke, he saw that the val’kyr was staring at the fight even more attentively than all of them. At least, it appeared so; with her helmet covering her eyes, it was difficult to tell.

“Even though this echo of his isn’t giving his all in their battle, he’s already displayed more skill and strength than most of warriors of the Valarjar,” the val’kyr continued. Nodding thoughtfully, she added, “He might be a greater warrior than any stormforged champion in the Halls of Valor.”

Sir Lightbringer had explained to them briefly how this Valarjar was supposedly a mighty army of great warriors of the vrykul (which they had seen when he “sang” his memories for them; huge, towering people who were ancestors of humans like Sir Lightbringer had been), who were trapped in those Halls of Valor. Now Storm couldn’t help but draw parallels between them and Hurricane’s echo; even though he had been aware of this loop that keeps all the echoes on this island, he too was trapped.

“Would he have been strong enough to defeat the Lich King?”

Serenity’s question caught him by surprise. He glanced at her as she looked at Raogrior, awaiting her answer. After a moment, he also turned to the val’kyr, curious what she was going to reply.

“Well, at least I know I’m not the only one still thinking about what Sir Lightbringer had told us,” he thought, a little heartened.

The val'kyr continued to watch the battle, before slowly turning to Serenity. “I had not seen Sir Lightbringer fight as the Lich King, but it was well known to anybody on Azeroth that his power was only matched by his cruelty. However…”

Raogrior trailed off, looking over at the fighting ponies; following her gaze, Storm watched as Sir Lightbringer leaped forward to avoid Hurricane’s blade as he slashed at him from above, then dug his hind legs into the ground and swung the Light-enveloped hammer behind him at the pegasus, who blocked it with some difficulty, then pushed away and attacked again. Sir Lightbringer brought his hammer back to deflect Windtear and shoved it at Hurricane, who jumped into the air and flew over him to try and stab him from behind; the paladin whirled around to dodge it and brought his weapon down at the echo, forcing him to block.

Storm noticed that a faint glow surrounded Sir Lightbringer now, and his eyes all but burned with the Holy Light, a clear sign of being empowered by It. Being a paladin too, he knew just how much channeling the Light through your body in battle strengthened you (even if, aside from their time on Dread Isle, he only had done so during training at the Abbey). And yet Hurricane seemed to be keeping up with Sir Lightbringer with little effort.

Raogrior began again, causing him to turn his attention back to her, “I believe, if they had fought as they fight now… the Commander could win. However, such a fight wouldn’t have taken place. On Azeroth, your Sir Lightbringer had been known not only for his unimaginable power and cruelty, but also for his cunning,” the val’kyr explained as Storm and others looked on with confusion. “If there would be a chance for somebody to defeat him in combat, he would have struck preemptively in a manner that would have sufficiently weakened his enemy before engaging them in battle, or lured them into a place where he would have had an advantage over them… or he simply would have fought alongside his most powerful minions. As mighty as Commander Hurricane might have been, neither he nor this echo of his could defeat the Scourge.”

“Aside from maybe that last one,” Clover’s echo spoke up, “he hath tried all that thou hath mentioned before facing Highlord Fordring, and yet he hath fought the Lich King and won.”

“As you have seen in his memories, you know he was beaten more by his arrogance than by the Highlord,” Raogrior replied.

Storm could swear Clover had rolled her eyes before turning back towards the fighting ponies. He himself didn’t comment on what either had said, as he had to agree with both; that paladin, Tirion Fordring, had been targeted by the Lich King since before the war on that frozen continent, and yet prevailed. But at the same time, as they had seen in Sir Lightbringer’s memories, as the Lich King he had imprisoned the old paladin with ease and then struck down all those mighty champions with one blow. Had he first killed the Highlord before attempting to raise his allies…

“Then none of us would be here,” he remarked, finding himself very grateful for the arrogance Sir Lightbringer had in his previous life.

However, this wasn’t the only issue that occupied his mind. What Raogrior had said about his cunning… the ways Sir Lightbringer as the Lich King would go about defeating his enemies sounded dishonorable. Which of course wasn’t surprising, given how he controlled legions of raised dead that were enslaved and bent to his will, but what made Storm wonder was if those strategies, of first weakening the enemy and fighting in an environment when one had advantage, were wrong.

“A paladin has to act with honor at all times… but if we were to face some great evil, wouldn’t it be more important that we defeat it before innocent suffer? But what could be considered-”

“Uh oh,” Serenity suddenly exclaimed, bringing him out of his reverie. Glancing at her, he saw her turning towards the north, and followed her gaze. “We’re going to have company…”

Storm’s eyes widened; “company” was quite an apt description. A company comprised of around one hundred griffons was flying towards them, intent on helping their king. The king that was already dead.

“They’re not gonna be happy about that.”

“Battle positions,” he told the others calmly.

It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve faced the echos in greater numbers - though admittedly, not THAT great - and this time they had the support of Clover the Clever, and Commander Hurricane, as surely he and Sir Lightbringer would put their battle on hold…

Almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, a third of the company broke off from the rest and headed for the fighting ponies, while the remaining continued to charge at them.

---

Sensing the echoes approach, Arthas disengaged from Hurricane and turned to look at them. His eyes slightly widened from surprise as he grasped their number.

“I knew King Friedrich had escaped from the real you because his reinforcements had arrived,” he spoke, turning back to Hurricane; the pegasus echo had sheathed his sword and was hovering beside him, his wings slowly flapping as he crossed his forelegs on his chest, “but you could have mentioned that they would be here so soon and in such great number.”

“Ah, sorry, it slipped my mind.” Arthas narrowed his eyes in borderline annoyance at the pegasus. “What?” he asked, acting really surprised… and a bit amused. “It’s not as if they were ever that much of a problem to me, even the first time around.”

Normally, Arthas would assume that whoever said that fighting a hundred enemies at once wasn’t “that much of a problem” was boasting. However he still remembered how Daring Do had told him about how Commander Hurricane had once fought of against a thousand griffons by himself. If that had been indeed truth, then a hundred must had seemed easy when compared to that.

And he could believe that. Though they hadn’t been fighting for too long, Hurricane had more than proven himself to be an outstanding warrior. Not only was his mastery of the blade impressive, he was quick and unimaginably strong. Throughout their fight Arthas had been letting the Light strengthen him more and more, and yet Hurricane continued to match his blows. Combined with his innate pegasus magic and Windtear, he could have very well fought off a hundred griffons easily.

Arthas turned back to the incoming company, finding himself a little frustrated. He knew that as mighty as he was, he would certainly not be able to fight against a hundred enemies at the same time. He wasn’t worried; between himself, his paladins, Raogrior, and most of all, Clover and Hurricane, they would all make it through. It was only his pride that stung.

It was probably because of that that before he could stop he bit back to Hurricane. “And yet their interference allowed King Friedrich to escape.”

To his mild surprise, Hurricane let out a burst of laughter. “Well, you certainly best me when it comes to fighting banter!” he explained, chuckling. No doubt noticing Arthas’ surprise, he added, “Don’t be so surprised, I had eight hundred years to work out my frustration for letting him escape. The real me would have kicked your teeth in for that comment,” he added, smirking.

“Guess we better hope if I become evil again I will try to raise the real you from the dead,” Arthas retorted before he could help himself. “Seeing how this island’s magic couldn’t hold you, you’d probably break from my control too.” Now it was Hurricane’s turn to look at him with surprise. “Long story.”

Hurricane raised an eyebrow at that. “Seems less boring, I’ll give you that,” he commented after a second.

The griffon’s echoes had reached them by then; instead of attacking straight away, they encircled them, closing off any possible way of escape (with over half taking up position above them so that Commander Hurricane couldn’t get away). There was only a little over thirty of them, though. The rest had similarly surrounded Arthas’ paladins, Clover and Raogrior.

Knowing that even so outnumbered, with both the val’kyr and Clover’s echo alongside them his paladins were more than fine, Arthas focused on his and Hurricane’s opponents. He probably couldn’t fight a hundred griffons, but thirty something? That was manageable. He had fought against similar numbers, even if he had done so as the Lich King, and he wasn’t fighting alone.

“Think you’ll be alright?” Hurricane asked as he leaned to him, smirking.

Arthas deadpanned at him. “I’ll be fine,” he retorted, a little offended by the echo patronizing him. “Though I’ll admit I have no idea how you dealt with them by yourself.”

“It helps that there’s a limited number of foes that can gather around you to be able to actually swing their weapons at you.”

About ten of the griffons, which stayed a yard behind their comrades, raised crossbows.

“Those are a bit more problematic though,” Hurricane admitted as Arthas raised an eyebrow at him.

Sighing, Arthas concentrated, praying for Light’s aid.

As the griffons finally finished taking up their positions around them, one moved a bit forward. His colouring underneath the armor seemed to be light gray, almost blue, marking him as a member of Stormfur Tribe if Arthas recalled correctly.

He frowned as he got a better look on the griffon’s armor. It was... strangely ornate. It had several strange small crystals imbedded into it in several places.

“They remind me of crystals I’ve seen in the Crystal Empire… could they be some sort of trophy from their siege?” Arthas wondered, before he glanced at the other griffons.

His frown deepened as he realized about half of them wore similar armors.

“We’ve got you surrounded, Monster!” the leader of the company called out, grasping his sword and brandishing it threateningly. His voice was thick with griffin accent. “Where is our King?

A strange sensation went through Arthas. He felt his senses drawn to the sword; it was similar to the ones King Friedrich’s echo had been wielding, slightly curved so it would be easier to use when in the air. Unlike his weapons, however, this sword had a much thinner blade. Arthas tried to get a better look at it, but it’s ethereal nature made it difficult to see anything distinguishable.

Regardless, the sword emmanated a subtle energy that was barely noticeable. In fact, Arthas would most likely have brushed off the sensation he picked up from it, if it wasn’t for one thing; the resonance he felt within his soul. Somehow, this sensation was familiar to him, but from where…

“You mean your tyrant of a ruler?” Commander Hurricane’s reply to the griffon broke Arthas’ musing. He shook himself back to reality just in time to see the pegasus smirk as he continued, “I cut his head off. You should have seen his corpse running around like a chicken,” be added tauntingly as the griffons around them gasped.

Observing the griffon’s reaction to the news of the death of their king (in such a manner no less) proved quite interesting. All of them looked on with shock, but only some (most of whom bore white colouring of the Snowfeather Tribe) quickly became furious. The majority of echoes exchanged uncertain glances, and a few appeared to be relieved and even hopeful.

However, none of them lowered the weapons directed at Hurricane.

The company leader with his unusual sword also seemed uncertain and shocked, but unlike the rest of the griffons he recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing at Hurricane. “Even if that’s true, it changes nothing. Prepare to die!”

As those words left his beak, he swung his sword, signaling the crossbow wielding griffons to shoot. However, they were still shaken after the news, and it took them a second longer to snap out of it and pull the triggers. It was all Arthas needed. Raising his hoof, he summoned the Holy Light through it, blinding every echo around them. As they all yowled in surprise and pain, grasping their eyes (and a few crossbow wielding griffons shooting, but with their aim thrown off their bolts passed around him and Hurricane harmlessly), Arthas outstretched his hoof in front of him, sending a wave of Light at his opponents. Getting hit by such force, while too weak to kill them, would be enough for them to fall to the ground, where he would hold the advantage. Such an attack would also serve to push through their encircling line, letting them escape and fight from a better position.

Arthas was about to leap forward to do just that, but to his surprise the griffons echoes didn’t fall down to the ground as the wave of Light passed through them. It shook them a bit, but that was all.

“They’ve embedded their armors with Radiant Crystals that they mined from the Crystal Empire’s mines,” Hurricane chimed in, continuing to hover calmly in the air; it looked as if he had been admiring Arthas’ hoofwork. However, he was now finally reaching for his sword as he added, “They deflect magic. You might want to do this the normal way.”

And with those words he charged at the griffons, just as they started to recover their sight. As such they were unprepared to dodge Hurricane’s attack, though Arthas doubted that they would have been able to, regardless. The pegasus moved so quickly and swung his sword so precisely, cutting right through the exposed parts of their bodies and weak spots in their armor, that in the moment that it took Arthas to blink, two griffons were already falling to the ground, blood gushing from their wounds.

Even as they recovered, the griffons proved too slow for him. Hurricane turned his body around, dodging underneath the echo’s sword, then stopping in mid air and immediately shooting upwards, dodging a crossbow bolt while bringing Windtear through the griffon’s windpipe in the process, only to quickly pull it out and block sword strikes from two of the soldiers behind him. Using his monstrous strength, he pushed their blades away and whirled around, slashing their throats.

Amazed that Commander Hurricane took out five opponents in such a short time, Arthas almost forgot that he was also in this battle. He snapped out of his thoughts just in time to dodge a griffon’s axe, grab it, and pull the echo down to the ground, quickly bringing his hammer against its chest and cracking his ribcage. Hearing a griffon attacking him from behind, he swung around, using the hammer’s head to deflect the blade, then quickly parrying another blow from the side. He was about to lunge at one of them afterwards, but in the corner of his eye he noticed an echo further back, lining his crossbow right at him. Arthas raised his armored leg just in time for the bolt to hit it instead of his head.

A memory of his attack against Quel’Thalas when he had come under similar attack from Sylvanas surfaced on its own; back then though he had used Frostmourne to cut her arrows in the air, before they could harm him.

Grunting at the unpleasant flashback, Arthas swung his hammer against a griffon’s side, pushing him out of his way and into another echo, and lunged for the crossbow wielding griffon. Not expecting the paladin to break out of the group that had surrounded him or that he would move so far and jump so far away, he tried to fly away, but it was too late. Arthas’ hammer slammed into his head, crushing his helmet.

As they both fell, Arthas felt a cold air on the back of his neck. Instinctively, he turned and swung his hammer back, just in time to block a sword strike; the leader of the company had attacked him.

Finally able to take a better look at the sword that had unsettled him, Arthas’ eyes widened in surprise. The sword appeared to be made of some strange, white metal, and what was stranger still, it softly glowed. Not like his hammer, which shone with golden glow because of the Light Arthas was channeling through it; the glow was clearly coming from the blade itself, or rather, the metal from which it was made.

Except it wasn’t a metal. At least, Arthas had thought so; now he wasn’t so sure. Because now that he had seen it so up close, he recognized both it and the strange, soft energy that the sword emenated.

The sword had been made from the same substance that he had seen everywhere on the moon.

“How in Light’s name could a griffon get their paws on a mineral from the moon two thousand years ago?!” the thought rang through Arthas’ mind as he blocked more attacks, both from the leading griffon’s echo as well as the others. “And it can be used to forge weapons?!”

That was certainly a thought he would have to talk with Luna about…

The wielder of the blade proved to be quite a strong fighter, too. His unusual blade kept slashing against Arthas, and because of all the other griffon echoes attacking him, the paladin couldn’t even block them properly and had to resort to allowing the strikes to fall on his armor. Fortunately, it also meant that the crossbow wielding griffons couldn’t fire at him. Finally, as he dodged underneath an axe wielding griffon and crushed his shoulder with his hammer, he was able to deflect the company leader’s sword and lunge at him, smashing the hammer’s head against his beak.

As the echo fell to the ground, clutching his face in pain, Arthas heard another griffon coming from behind. Immediately, he spun around, bringing his hammer against him.

His eyes widened in surprise though as he looked at his attacker; compared to all the other griffons he had seen, this one’s features were much softer and his body smaller.

He was a little more than a child, clad in armor, and his eyes were full of fear.

With great difficulty, Arthas stopped his hammer in it’s momentum, then jumped away from the young griffon.

“They are a nuisance to you too, I presume?”

Hurricane’s comment took him by surprise. Arthas glanced to the pegasus echo, who was now beside him, easily parrying spears of two griffons and dodging weapons of two other. At first, he had assumed that Hurricane was referring to the youth he had barely avoided killing, but it didn’t appear to; his - somewhat disinterested - gaze was focused on the echoes he was fighting. He seemed to be talking about the griffon’s in general.

Parrying another strike, he lunged forward, cutting off the griffon’s head, then continued to fly past him. “Everything on this island will reset itself soon,” he told Arthas, glancing back. A smirk crossed his muzzle. “So let's just enjoy ourselves,” Hurricane added, sheathing Windtear on his back. As the nearest griffon was about to attack him, he beat his wings, dashing high up into the air. “I’ll clear the battlefield! Take cover!” he called down before he got too far away.

“What does he mean by that?” Arthas wondered, confused, keeping a one eye on the pegasus as he resumed defending himself from the echoes.

It seemed, though, that his attacker had some idea as to what Hurricane was about to do. Those of the griffons that had kept their attention on him continued to attack, but others, those that were further away from him, had kept their eyes on the flying pegasus. Some gave chase, but most just stared, their eyes widening with fear.

His confusion increased, Arthas watched as Hurricane stopped ascending, and instead began to fly around in a large circle very quickly. Almost immediately he became a blur, following his own trail in the air perfectly; to Arthas’ eyes it almost looked as if solid gray ring had formed above them. Having seen Rainbow Dash perform a few of her aerial tricks, he knew that it wasn’t an easy feat. Except Hurricane was flying in a much larger circle than Arthas had ever seen Rainbow do, and seemed even faster. It hadn’t been long before a torrent of wind began to form inside of it...

It wasn’t until the leader of griffon company, who had recovered and stood up from the ground, gave out a panicked order in griffon’s language to retreat that Arthas realized what Hurricane was about to do.

“He can’t be serious!” he thought, urgently channeling the Light into a barrier around himself. Turning his gaze away, briefly stopping on the retreating griffons with pity, he looked on where his paladins, Clover and Raogrior were.

---

Storm parried a strike from a griffon echo, then leaned down so another one couldn’t cut off his head and whirled around, bringing Spring Binder against him, cutting just above the elbow. The griffon roared in pain as he lost the foreleg, grasping at the remaining stump and backing away. With that one out of the way temporarily, Storm made quick work of the other echo, then, catching his breath, he looked around to see how the others were doing.

To his relief, they were all doing well, none of them seemed wounded and they were beating back the attacking echoes. It had helped that most of the attention of the griffons was focused on Clover from the start; fortunately, even though they had apparently embedded into their armors some crystals that absorb magic, as Clover had quickly told them, she had still proven more than capable of fighting them off (Storm was fairly certain she had taken out the most echoes out of all of them). She couldn’t blast them away with any spell directly, but they still couldn’t get past her barrier, and her magically created blades could still slice between crevices in their armors.

If any of them could compete with her in terms of fighting, then it would be Raogrior. Within seconds, it had been made abundantly clear what Sir Lightbringer had meant when he said the val’kyr were spirits of great maiden warriors. Her blade made quick work of the three echoes that attacked her at first, and then she continued to battle the next wave that came after her, easily breaking through them as they tried to surround her.

“If there weren’t so many of those echoes, I would probably feel embarrassed about how many the two of them had defeated,” Storm reflected, blinding two griffons that charged at him with the Light before flying around them and slashing at them. “But given the circumstances-”

“Is he serious?!”

The shout had pulled Storm from his musing. Recognizing Clover’s voice, he looked at her in alarm, only to see her looking somewhere beyond the line of griffons (safe within her magic barrier) with great worry on her face. Confused what could possibly worry her, Storm followed her gaze.

At first, he had no idea what they were looking at. To him, it appeared to be a sort of large ring that was suspended in the air for some reason. Only after a few seconds had passed did he realize that said ring was actually a pegasus flying around in a circle so fast that he all he could see was a blur. It wasn’t that much of an unusual sight; he had taken out his little brother to few Wonderbolts performances, so he had seen pegasi create similar “rings” before.

“Except for them being much smaller and they would quickly move on to some other aerial tricks. The only time I’ve seen pegasi fly in such a huge circle was when-”

His eyes widened. The only time he had seen that was when pegasi of Manehatten had created a tornado to lift up water to Cloudsdale from a reservoir. And just as he had recalled that, he realized a tornado had began to form.

“But a tornado this big needs over a hundred pegasi working together!” Storm’s brain tried to argue logic with his eyes, as well as with the rest of his body. Already, he felt wind pulling him towards the tornado. “How is this possible?!”

By then, the others had also noticed what was happening, the griffons included. As they echoes looked on in fear at the growing tornado and flapped their wings harder to regain their balance, a shout from the other group that had fought Sir Lightbringer and Commander Hurricane made them all abandon the fight and flee.

As he looked in their direction, Storm realized that though he couldn’t see Sir Lightbringer, a small dome of Light glowed where he had been. No doubt the older paladin had realized what was happening and channeled the Light to protect himself.

“Think we should follow suit?” Tucker asked out loud what no doubt they were all thinking, though Storm didn’t know if he meant the griffons or Sir Lightbringer.

“Stay close!” Clover said instead, concentrating. The magic barrier that surrounded her had expanded, enclosing around all six of them, and seemed to grow stronger, its prismatic glow becoming brighter. Immediately, Storm stopped feeling the pull of the wind vortex. “There, that should suffice,” the echo said, exhaling heavily, then looked in the direction of the tornado with an expression that Storm almost wanted to call a pout. “I cannot believe he would use that with us so close, without any other pegasi to support him.”

Storm felt like he should clear his throat, but at that moment, the tornado had reached the ground. And as he watched the ground break apart and rise up into the vortex, a little sting on his not very big to begin with pegasus pride was the least of his worries.

It wasn’t only the ground that was being pulled into the tornado, too. The echoes of the griffons, though they had tried to fly away, were being slowly dragged back into it. Some had already lost their balance and flipped over in the air and were now falling into the tornado. Others continued to beat their wings frantically, but it was clear to everypony that it was futile effort.

The ground, the boulders, the echoes, even the trees from the forest behind them, it was all being ripped from the earth and pulled into the tornado the echo of Commander Hurricane had just created.

---

“Very good Fluttershy.”

Fluttershy had barely caught her mentor’s warm voice. She was exhausted; throughout the day, with only a break so that she could eat and tend to the animals in her care, she had been trying to harness the energy of the sun, just as Provato had showed her and to hurl it against some rocks (after making double sure that there wasn’t any little creature hiding in any crevice or that there wasn’t anything growing on it). She had grown gradually better, but her progress was slowed by the setting sun; it became harder and harder to draw upon it.

However, she had finally done it. Despite that it was already nighttime, she had just blasted apart a rock with the perfectly harnessed sun’s magic.

“Thank you, Provato,” she replied after a second, slightly panting from exhaustion and blushing from her mentor’s praise. “I, I’m sorry it took me so long to learn how to do that.”

A smile appeared on the timberwolf demigod’s muzzle as she stammered an apology. “My dear Fluttershy, you had learned in a day what would took others months to learn. What nopony before had learned. You are doing very well.”

His words only caused Fluttershy’s blush to grow hotter.

“We’re done with our training for today,” Provato continued. “You deserve a rest. Seek me out tomorrow before midnight, so that we can-”

Provato stopped abruptly, his ears perking up and eyes widening and turning to the side, towards east. Fluttershy looked at him in confusion, not understanding what caused the Wild God to be so alarmed. She hadn’t heard anything; was she so tired that she hadn’t heard some dangerous sound?

“W-what is it, Provato?” she asked, beginning to grow worried as he continued to stare into distance.

However, just as Fluttershy asked her question, Provato looked away, his expression changing from alarmed and surprised to… something Fluttershy couldn’t quite decipher; his face was a little different from pony’s, after all, and he was much older and composed than her or almost anypony she had ever met (with the Princesses being the only exceptions). But to her, the timberwolf demigod appeared saddened, and almost nostalgic.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head and smirking. “Just… an echo.”

---

The wind was raging all around him. The hateful air thrashed against him, dragging him one way and then the other and threatening to tear him apart, and all he could feel was this huge, overwhelming fear.

But before he could understand what was causing this, Alilaaniwa woke up with a startle.

The zebra colt breathed heavily, feeling as if his heart would burst from his chest. He looked around his room as he tried to calm down, hoping the familiar sights of his modest quarters (not that he could see much in the middle of the night with his sight no less) would assure his mind body that what he had experienced wasn’t here.

But even when his body would calm, his mind would not. For he knew what he had seen wasn’t a dream, but a vision.

“What could it mean though?” he wondered, his breathing finally slowing down. “That fear I felt, and that wind thrashing me around, so full of hate… is the Spirit of the Air afraid of something?”

Almost immediately, he wanted to dismiss that thought. What could the Spirit of the Air possibly be afraid of? And yet…

Frowning, Alilaaniwa turned towards the doors. Despite his young age, he had already gone on a vision quest, the traditional rite of passage that marked a zebra as a full-fledged shaman. Not only that, he considered himself more skilled and powerful that most of the tribe’s shamans. The dream he just had hadn’t been his first vision; however, it felt far more important. Overwhelming, even. Should he go wake his former mentor, the Dowunai Tribe’s chieftain and Elder Shaman P’aqo, and discuss this vision with him?

“Nah, Gramps is about the only zebra in the entire tribe with a stronger bond with the elements than me. If they granted me this vision, then surely they granted him too. No need to wake him up, we can discuss this in the morning… and in the meantime…” he thought, glancing over to the covered window, smirking, “I can try and see if I can learn more on my own…”

Already having decided on what he was going to do, Alilaaniwa jumped off his bed and turned towards the window. The easiest way to find out what his vision could mean was to communicate with the elements and ask them. And while he could do that from the confines of his room (or anywhere, really) he had always found the elements easiest to reach when his body was exposed to them. This meant a trip to the peak of Mount Talon, the highest mountain in the Eyrie Mountains range, on which slopes the capital of the Dowunai Tribe, High Slope, was.

Before he trotted over to the window, though, the young shaman stopped by the nightstand next to his bed. On it were his shamanistic beads representing the elements of wind, fire, water and earth, as well as a necklace, representing the Spirit of the Wild. They were every shaman’s physical links to the elements; he could commune with them without the beads easily, as their purpose was to help each shaman call upon the elements and direct their powers, but Alilaaniwa always wore them.

Quickly putting the beads on each of his hooves and the necklace around his neck, the zebra trotted over to the window and pulled away the curtains. Immediately, he hissed in pain and turned away as the moonlight hit him right in his sensitive eyes.

“Spirits bring pox upon you, Moon Princess,” he cursed angrily as he squinted his eyes (which he usually did whenever he left his room) and slowly turned back to the window, getting used to the brightness.

Shaking his head a few moments later, he jumped up to the window sill and jumped out, channeling the Spirit of the Wild. Within a second a soft glow engulfed his body, transforming him into a Ghost Eagle. In this transparent, half-spirit form, he easily soared up into the sky above High Slope, the winds parting around him as he reached the peak.

The snow-covered peak of Mount Talon had a big, flat, circular ledge right underneath it, perfect for shamans to meditate. Alilaaniwa landed right at the edge of it and shifted back to his real body. As he turned around and looked down upon the city and the surrounding land, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He could feel the cold air fill his lungs and brushing against his coat, but it didn’t bother him; the Spirit of Fire burned in his heart, warming him up.

Sitting down and crossing his hind legs, Alilaaniwa focused on the cold wind around him. Through him, he reached the Spirit of the Air.

“Spirit of the Air, into my dreams had crept the vision you’ve sent. I had seen strong winds blowing around me, threatening to tear me apart, and I had felt your fear. I implore you, tell me more of what is to come, show me what caused such fear in you,” he intoned, his heart filled with concern.

“It was nothing.”

Air’s brief reply caught him by surprise. He opened his eyes and blinked; for the first time since he had first heard the element’s voice, Alilaaniwa was utterly confused. To say this reply was weird was an understatement, especially given the fear he sensed in the vision. Only his deep respect for the elements had prevented him from outright asking “Come again?”.

Instead he asked, “What do you mean, Spirit of the Air? Why did I have this vision if it was ‘nothing’? What was this vision showing me?” he repeated, putting more of his will into the query.

The Air remained silent for several seconds; if he was talking to another zebra, Alilaaniwa would have thought that they were embarrassed. “It was an echo,” the voice of the wind finally carried over to his ears. “The vision you had was an echo of the fear all of the air, all of the elements had felt, a long time ago.”

“An echo?” Alilaaniwa repeated; the wind’s reply did little to dispel his confusion, but at least it was elaborating. “What caused this echo?”

“An echo of the one who had caused this fear.”

It took some effort for the zebra to not roll his closed eyes. “And who was that?”

“One who had been denied his destiny by hatred and pain,” the wind sung in his ears. To Alilaaniwa’s dismay, he realized that the voice was growing quieter. “He’s long gone, his fury spent in times gone by, and only an echo of his remain.”

“But who was he?” the shaman pressed. “Who could have caused all the elements to fear him?”

But the Spirit of Air had shared all that it wanted. The wind no longer carried any words to him.

Alilaaniwa cursed under his breath. He had come seeking some explanation regarding his vision, and all he got was more questions! How could anyzebra (“Or anybody,” he corrected himself, realizing that the Spirit of Air hadn’t specified if that was a zebra.) cause all the elements to feel fear? And how could an “echo” of it remain?

He took a deep, calming breath. “Alright,” he thought as he cleared his head, “if speaking to the very element directly didn’t work, how about I ask somebody who should know more?” the shaman asked himself, glancing at the air beads on his right forehoof.

Extending is foreleg, Alilaaniwa focused and channeled his power through the beads. The small carvings on them began to glow with soft, dark blue light. A crack of thunder suddenly exploded before him, and as he opened his eyes a little, he was faced with a familiar friend.

“Hi Ali!” the four legged, winged mass of dark clouds and wind surrounded by tiny veins of lightning greeted him excitedly. “Whatch’ya want?”

“Hi Mistral,” he replied, smiling at her. “Listen, I’ve got to ask you about something.”

“Yes, you look dumb when you keep your eyes squinted like this.”

Alilaaniwa paused to furrow his eyebrows at her. As the air elemental giggled, he resumed, “Do you know if there was somebody the elements, especially of air, was ever afraid of?”

Now it was Mistral’s turn to frown at him. “That’s why you summoned me?” she asked, disappointed. “For some history trivia? Boring!”

“It’s important! I think,” he amended, uncertainly; after all, the Spirit of the Air had said that it was ‘nothing’. “I had a vision, and in it I was inside a raging tempest, a tornado that wanted to tear me apart, and I could feel this great fear…”

“Well, most fleshlings would feel fear when inside a tornado,” Mistral replied, rolling her glowing with lightning eyes. “Although,” she added, hesitating, “now that you mention this vision… back in Skyfields, the Anemoi Council had been worried about something, but whatever it was they seemed to quickly dismiss it.”

“Really? What could it have been?” Alilaaniwa asked, grateful for another clue.

But Mistral was already snorting. “How should I know what got those old farts all twisted in knots? They-” the air elemental cut off abruptly, staring wide eyed at something over his shoulder.

“What?” he asked, confused, not having heard or sensed anything behind him, and turned around.

A talon as big as he was right behind him.

Even though there was only one possible being this talon could belong to, in his schock, Alilaaniwa still looked up before doing what any sane zebra should, that is to stand up and bow down. Marahute the Eagle Mother, the Great Spirit of Dowunai Tribe, stood before him, gazing down at him with curiosity.

“Great Marahute!” he exclaimed, practically jumping up into the air. He almost instinctively backed away, but he remembered in time that he had been sitting at the edge. So instead, he bowed down. “It’s an honor to be in your presence.”

It was indeed an honor. Although he was a shaman (one with exceptional connection with the elements at that), Alilaaniwa, like everyzebra, worshipped the Spirits, the patron of their tribe especially. Not only that, during his apprenticeship, as the student of the tribe’s chieftain, he was granted the right to follow Marahute as his patron Spirit, an honor usually restricted to only the chieftain’s line and her priests.

The irony of which was not lost upon him.

However, despite that, he had seen Marahute only a hoof-ful of times, and never before had she come to him like this.

Before he could ask to what did he owe this honor, though, or before Marahute herself could reply to his greeting, Mistral spoke up. “H-hello, Eagle Mother,” she stammered a greeting, sounding a little nervous; Alilaaniwa had realized that she had moved to cower behind him. “You didn’t happen to overhear me talking about the Anemoi Council, hadn’t you?”

In response, the Eagle Mother merely tilted her head a little, her attention now shifted to the air elemental.

“Later Ali!” Mistral suddenly exclaimed.

Aliliaaniwa had barely glanced back in time to see her disappear back to her Elemental Kingdom. The shaman was slightly taken aback, even though he had gotten used to Mistral’s antics; however, his attention quickly shifted back to Marahute as he heard the great eagle utter a chuckle.

“Honestly, I hadn’t even spoken to them in eons,” she said, shaking her head, before spreading her wings and flapping them once, gracefully flying up into the air and landing several yards behind. Alilaaniwa sighed with relief (despite having to brace himself earlier so that the wind caused by Marahute wouldn’t push him off the ledge), glad that he could move further from the edge and speak to the Great Spirit without cranking up his neck. “I don’t think you’d gain much by asking such a young air elemental,” Marahute spoke to him; immediately, Alilaaniwa stopped squinting his eyes, despite how the moonlight hurt them. There were few beings he wouldn’t show such disrespect to, and Marahute was definitely on top of it. “What you had asked her about happened centuries before she had come to be.”

Alilaaniwa nodded, knowing (only too well) that Mistral was young for an elemental. However, he then blinked in surprise as the meaning of the Great Spirit’s words hit him. “W- I mean, Great Marahute, does that mean you know who was it that caused the elements such fear?”

“Of course I do, little one,” Marahute replied, amused. “As well as why you were woken up by that vision.”

“Could you tell me?” the young shaman asked, then, realizing that his plea wasn’t polite enough, he amended, “I mean, Great Marahute, I beg of you, help me understand my vision. Tell me more of what has happened in the past and what is happening now.”

Marahute’s eyes narrowed at him, as if weighing his request. “Such knowledge will come at a cost,” she finally said after a few seconds.

Alilaaniwa swallowed nervously. The Spirits usually granted the zebra favors after receiving offerings. Usually. It wasn’t unheard of them granting them for free, too, especially to their devout followers. Honestly, the young shaman believed it mostly depended on the Spirit’s whim.

“One of the reasons I prefer working with the elemental spirits.”

“I had been making offerings regularly to you, Eagle Mother, without asking any boon,” he tried, speaking as politely as he could. “And I am asking you of little more than… than a history lesson.”

The Great Spirit tilted her head a little. “You are asking me about events that transpired tens of generations ago, in the middle of the night, to do little more than satisfy your curiosity. You know that this isn’t important; and if you had doubts, you could wait and ask P’aqo. That is why this knowledge will cost you.”

Alilaaniwa was certain that she was amused.

“What would you require of your follower for this knowledge, Eagle Mother?” he asked slowly, wondering if he really needed to know right now and then.

Marahute was a reasonable Spirit, even if she had an reputation of being capricious at times. She wouldn’t ask of him something that he wouldn’t be able to give her. At the same time, the offering had to mean something, so he might be reluctant to give it away to just satisfy his curiosity. Because she was right, of course; the Spirit of the Air had said that this wasn’t important. His former mentor P’aqo was very wise and knew a lot; there was a very big chance that if he were to wait a few hours, he could just ask him. And yet Alilaaniwa was still on top of the mountain. Was his curiosity really that great?

A chuckle rumbled in Marahute’s throat. “I would make a request for you, one that I think you’d actually enjoy.”

---

Sensing that Commander Hurricane had finally dispersed that tornado he had created, Arthas stopped channeling the Light, letting the barrier around him disappear. The task of sustaining it had been tougher than he had expected; the wind continued to assault it, threatening to tear the paladin apart.

Just as it did the area around them.

As his shield had dispersed, Arthas was greeted with the sight of a wasteland. There wasn’t a plant left rooted for almost a mile around, all of it, from grass to trees had been pulled from the ground; actually, the ground too had seemed to be torn away, as well as rocks, and…

“Why am I standing in a shadow?” The thought crossed Arthas’ mind, almost ‘in passing’, a moment before he jumped away, realizing what could it mean. The next heartbeat a tree fell down right at the spot he had been standing, which was the only untouched patch of ground left in the area, thanks to the Light’s protection. Alarmed, he looked up, seeking any more falling debris, but fortunately it didn’t seem like there were more trees or rocks falling anywhere nearby. Turning his attention to where he saw Clover’s magical shield, he saw that they too weren’t in any danger. “Well, that was close… would have been a stupid way to die,” he added in an afterthought, deadpanning at the tree.

“This is a view I hadn’t enjoyed in a while.”

Arthas’ ears perked up hearing Hurricane. The echo was descending towards him, also looking around the devastation he had wrought, despite his comment seeming neither pleased or displeased. Arthas had a hard time trying to decide what emotion the Commander was feeling… as well as what he himself was feeling. He just watched a single pegasus kill an entire company of griffons, and had no doubt that he would have killed more if they were just nearby. Hurricane also destroyed the entire area just like that; it was fortunate that there wasn’t any wildlife on the island.

Arthas couldn’t decide if he was more in awe of Hurricane’s power, or dismayed at the amount of destruction he had caused.

The face of that young griffon’s echo flashed before his eyes.

“I don’t think this was necessary,” he began. “We would have dealt with them by ourselves just fine.”

“I know,” Hurricane replied, shrugging. “But it would have taken a while, and it won’t be long before the magic resets everything; I would have to fly all the way over here from the other side of the island. I’d prefer if we would settle our fight before this happens,” he added, reaching for his blade.

Despite having just seen what the pegasus was capable of, Arthas smirked, and, letting the Light flow through him, he rose on his hind legs. “I’m finding it hard to believe that the griffons could have been winning the war at the beginning,” he offered Hurricane a praise.

“Well, I couldn’t very well do that within our borders,” Hurricane replied, smirking as well. Narrowing his eyes, he pulled out Windtear and dove down. “But enough reminiscing!”

Opening himself to the Light, Arthas swung his hammer against him. The Commander blocked it as wings of Light manifested from the paladin’s back; he was grinning, as if he was excited.

And Arthas realized that he was too.

Comments

[Nevermore777]

Well that’s a lot of text

[Booster Spice]

Thats a whole lotta island that needs cleaning up. Pity about the fluffball, maybe help him along first next time?

[Chibalt]

9598727
Given how it's talked about, presumably the magic of the island that resets the conflict over and over also resets damage such as that.

[Greenhorn]

As expect from someone called 'hurricane', the fighting scene was really intense.

[Xarmar13]

9598885
Just like a Heroic/Mythic dungeon.

[Bazing]

Loving it as always!

[TheArchive]

9600178

I can tell, haha! Also, for some reason I'm getting absolutely zero alerts when you respond, so no idea what's up with that.

[Borsuq]

9600481
Dunno, have this problem too from time to time (although most of the time it's that it doesn't show me notifications about comments on user page, which I'm guessing could be caused by me refreshing fimfic on it to see if I have notifications and it stops alerting me because I've just "opened" the user page); anyway, I also replied to your comment about Rainbow Dash being OOC under chapter 8

[TheArchive]

9600514

I saw it! Also I got an alert, so what I think is going on is that if I leave a comment in the comment section of whatever chapter I'm on and you respond, then I don't get the alert, but if I leave the comment on the main story page (here, in other words) then I'll get the alert.

Fimfiction is weird.

[DDDDDDDDD23]

I just realized something all equestrians fall under the arcane class. Earth ponies and pegasi just have permanent buffs they use on themselves.

[ArcherStern]

Hmm, we just were apart of a devastating pony-made tornado that completely wiped the area, should we take a break?

...

Nah! Lets get back to fighting each other!

[Two_Madmans]

“Just… an echo.”

Did he felt Hurricane?

[Alfaridwan Setiabudi]

More please

[Teron Gorefiend]

“He’s long gone, his fury spent in times gone by, and only an echo of his remain.”

, his fury spent in times gone by,

The thunder slept beneath Kun Lai...

The Thunder King reference? :)

[chibilink]

Makes me wonder if, while he's this powerful, he was powerful enough to cause the Sundering of Griffonia.