Darkness in the North

by Commissar Rarity

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The skies over the Necropolis darkened. Thunder rolled across the plains of the Hinterlands. Lightning cracked, bolts branching off and striking the pinnacle of the Spire. From the yawning chasms below, sickly green witch-fire emerged, casting its eerie light on the surroundings.

---

In Bastion, the brewing storm did not go unnoticed. The able-bodied townfolk rushed about, nailing boards to windows, strapping things down. A few thoughtful ponies moved the gypsy wagon to a stable for shelter. The air grew oppressive and thick. It felt as though you were drinking the air and not breathing it.

Old-timers sat in their chairs, peering out from under their wide-brimmed hats at the growing storm. One of them, after spitting his tobacky into a pail, said he’d not seen a storm such as that since ’83. Another argued that the storm of ’95 was worse, while yet another said his grandmammy saw the worst storm of them all way back in aught-eight.

---

If breathing the air was difficult doing simple tasks like the ponies in Bastion were doing, breathing while under physical duress – say, running for your life with somepony on your back – was quite harder. This was the dilemma Applejack faced. The sudden change in weather conditions was enough to make her pause, but the added burden of Rainbow Dash added a whole new, doubly wearying factor.

And then there were the direwolves, howling behind them. They were getting ever closer, their loping, tireless gait catching up to the pony’s tiring gallop.

Applejack looked back over her shoulder to see if she could catch a glimpse of the direwolves. She could see their faint silhouettes on the horizon, approaching fast. Her hoof caught on something –

–for an instant she was weightless, this is what it’s like to fly–

– she saw Rainbow tumble head over hooves –

– the ground was coming up fast –

– oh Celestia the rocks –

– and then nothing at all.

---

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Trixie covered her ears with her hooves trying oh so desperately to block out the unearthly noise that was all around. The screams of tormented souls, finally released from their anguish filled the chamber. Multicoloured streaks of light tore through the room, burning scores into the pillars and walls, punching holes in the ceiling and floor. Worst of all were the ones that just hovered in the air pathetically, emitting a high-pitched squeal.

The air thickened near Trixie, and an indistinct shape took form, black and grey and white. Gooseflesh appeared on her skin, and in her mind she could hear the voice of her mother: “Get away! Beatrice, don’t stand near it! Go!” She broke into a run, sliding on the slick obsidian floor.

---

Barsabas had arrived. His great cloak reduced to tatters by Twilight’s lucky strike, bones shattered. Those baleful blue eyes were dimming, losing light as the souls escaped.

Treachery.

“You call it treachery,” Moon’s Omen said, hooves crushing the glass further. “I call it rebirth. From the ashes of your life is birthed a phoenix of magic, her fire sweeping the world. You and I are detritus, to be destroyed when the new world is forged. I am humble enough to know my place in the King’s plan, what of you?”

I serve no King, the lich growled, taking an unsteady step forward. His legs were beginning to crumble, cracks already forming from the stress of holding up his form. Thou mayest sware obedience to the King of the Black Throne to save him from the flames of Tartarus, but I hath made no oath with he. Mine oath is with the Changer and him alone.

“The Changer?” the druid barked with a laugh. “You’ve lived lifetimes longer than any pony, any alicorn, and yet you do not know never to take a demon at its word?”

Irrelevant. Seize thy tongue, maggot-breeder. There is but one care in my heart. The alicorn harlots will burn. What the Changer does is his business and his alone.

“Then he bollixed you well, bonewalker. He made the selfsame offer to me.”

The Giant froze, doubt spreading in his mind for the first time. Were he not in his dark reverie, he would have noticed what came next.

A burst of pure force struck Barsabas, splintering his pelvis. As his leg bones clattered to the floor, he cast a quick levitation spell, dodging another burst of force. Raising an arm, he began drawing electricity into his palm. The ball of electricity suddenly jumped, and he cracked it like a whip, an arc of lightning spiraling towards the druid.

Trixie’s eyes met Augur’s. Without a word, they made a covert exit, leaving the sorcerers to their duel.

---

Wet snarls and barks of rage woke Applejack, blinking bleary eyes. She felt a cold hardness underneath her. Metal. She rose quickly and regretted it immediately, banging her head on the top of a pipe.

“Where in the name of custard pie am I?”

“Some culvert outside of town,” came Rainbow’s voice, breathless and raspy. “You got banged up pretty bad when you hit the ground. I managed to fly a bit before I got woozy. Dragged you in here before the wolf pack showed up. They know we’re here, I think. Just not where.”

Applejack propped herself up into a sitting position, putting her back up to the culvert wall. She rubbed a sore spot on her head, and her hoof came back sticky with blood. She looked down at her legs, green eyes watery.

“Hey, AJ. What’s wrong?”

“I’m thinkin’ ’bout Big Mac and Apple Bloom,” she said softly, voice cracking. “They sure don’t know where I am right now. They still think I’m in Canterlot, livin’ it up with the princesses an’ eatin’ fancy foods an’ bein’ a regular city-slicker. But I ain’t. I’m here, in a ditch. I just won’t come home. They’ll be waitin’ for me, waitin’ for a train that ain’t comin’.”

There was a silence. Rainbow looked away as Applejack shed her silent tears. “Hey… You know what I’m thinking about?” she asked, attempting a smile and failing. “I’m thinking about Tank, of all things. He’s up there, alone in my cloud. Just doin’ things for the sake of doing things, being a turtle. Wobbling around, being old. But you know what? I’m not getting sad about not seeing him again. Because I know I’m gonna see him again. And you’re gonna see Big Mac, and Apple Bloom, and your Granny Smith again. You know why?
“We’re the Elements of Harmony. We beat Nightmare Moon. We kicked Discord’s flank. We fought an army of changelings. What’s a couple mutts to us?”

Applejack smiled slightly, a tear still running down her cheek. “I didn’t quite think about that way. You’re right, Rainbow. We can do anythin’ as a team.”

“We’re the greatest team. Team Appledash.” The earth pony shot a glare at Rainbow. “Okay yeah bad name.”

There was a pause. Applejack looked out into the open fields, at the direwolves digging at the ground looking for them.

“What d’ya think, Rainbow? Ready fer one last stand?”

“I’m always ready.”

With one last hoofbump, the two friends stepped out into the light.

---

The Giant’s Spire was built for the pressure of focused energies and not the raging maelstrom of soul energy now loosed in it.

The supports, worn down by age and the ancient battle, were crumbling as the tormented souls expired against them. The deep roots of the Spire, spreading throughout the Necropolis, were writhing with witch-fire. The fire ate away at them, the dripping slag vaporising before it even left the nimbus of the fire.

It was only a matter of time before the whole thing came crashing down.

---

The green witch-fire was spreading throughout the Spire, funneling towards the middle. Twilight followed the trailing fingers. “Follow the emerald path,” Stipticus had said. The witch-fire was green and it was circling the Spire like water in a drain. She ran and ran, the clop of her hooves ringing out in the empty hallways. She would reach the top.

She had to.

---

Trixie paused, a voice in the back of her head telling her to stop. She froze, staring down at the battle below. She inched her way closer to the edge of the balcony.

Below, the lich and the unicorn were casting spells at each other. Bolts of lightning, whirling miasmas, gouts of flame, pillars of lava. The air seemed to be charged with magic. As she watched, Barsabas made a sparkling orb in his hand and crushed it. Then it appeared near Moon’s Omen.

Trixie frowned, trying to figure out what that spell was meant to do. With a piercing whistle, one of the errant souls shot towards the orb, striking the pillar next to the druid.

As she watched the debris shower on the druid as he prepared an ice spell, something triggered in her mind. A plan, fully-formed that just seemed to appear. But at the same time, she knew something else.

She couldn’t do it alone. She needed somepony with training, the skills to weave a high-level spell.

She needed Twilight Sparkle.

---

The earth shook, and in some places in the Necropolis gave way entirely. Massive chunks of soil and rock tumbled down into the infinite abyss. The ancient ruins, much of which was still unexplored and untouched by archaeologists, crumbled and gave way under the earth’s trembling.

The air grew ever thicker, the promise of a storm still unfulfilled.

---

The hallway opened up into a giant chamber, Twilight found. The green witchfire swirled up into the sky of the chamber and–

“Sparkle!” came a familiar voice. “Thank Celestia you’re alive!” Trixie came galloping up to her. “The lich and the druid are fighting down below! I have a plan.”

Twilight listened as the other mare outlined her plan. “It’s crazy, but I don’t see how we have any other choice.”

“We don’t,” Augur interrupted. “We need to go up. Stop what’s happening.”

“He’s right,” the gypsy said. “It’s now or never, Sparkle.”

Now or never, do or die, the clichés rushed through her head. She nodded, mouth set in a grim line.

---

This is the nature of spell-binding: Two sorcerers could cast different spells and a simultaneous binding spell. The binding spell was simple, so it was no hard task to cast it and wrap it around the spells.
The truly hard part was ensuring the two spells bound properly. A spell of ice and fire was possible, but the bonding process was volatile and dangerous. More than one wizard had met their end attempting such a thing. A spell of wind and earth was feasible, more so than ice and fire.

Trixie and Twilight were, for the first time in their lives, attempting spell-binding. They felt the risks were very much outweighed by the benefits. It helped that the two spells they were binding were both fairly simple and not as dangerous.

Twilight cast a spell of wind – a tornado, to be precise. Dark clouds were brought into existence, swirling above the battlegrounds at the high ceiling. They slowly began to move swifter.

Trixie cast the same spell she had seen the Giant cast. A twinkling charm, strangely irresistible to the flying souls. Perhaps some part of the tormented souls saw it as a way to end their torment? Or maybe as a way to cross to the next life? Whatever the reason, she had figured the basics of the spell from the energies that had swirled around the Giant.

The maelstrom spun faster and faster. The twinkling glamour shone in the eye of the storm, beckoning the souls to it. The glowing balls of wailing souls sped towards the charm, looking for whatever solace it offered.

The maelstrom formed into a full-fledged tornado, driving the souls downward. From there, there was only one thing that could happen.

Destruction.

---

Green. Augur felt as though green, the colour itself was calling him. The witch-fires snaked through a passageway, and he felt drawn towards it. They seemed to be whispering his name, not his druid-name, his birth-name.

“Augur?” Daydancer asked, her voice husky. “What are you doing?”

“I’m…” He didn’t know what he was doing. He blinked, the afterimages of the witch-fires flashing in his retinas.

The entire Spire seemed to shake as the sound of an explosion echoed. The sudden quake knocked Augur off his feet, head slamming into the wall. There was a brief period of blackness, then the stallion shook himself awake. Stars flashed before his eyes. Through them, he could see the witch-fires, still burning.

“Augur?” That was Daydancer’s voice, but it seemed oh-so far away. Bells seemed to chime in his ears. “Augur, please, get up!”

Augur tried to rise, his legs unsteady. His head exploded with a new universe of pain, stomach beginning to rebel. He fought his pain, and stood, still wobbling. His balance gave way, and he felt himself pitching back towards the ground. Before he could strike it, Daydancer rushed to his side and gave him support.

He leaned on her, shifting his body weight fully to her. “I seem to be quite a mess,” he slurred.

“We both are. How are we going to get out of here?”

Augur winced, the stars and trails of witch-fire still burning in his eyes. “The emerald path. The witch-fires. They’ll lead us to where we need to go.”

“Follow the witch-fires, alright…” She didn’t sound convinced. She didn’t need to; she just needed to carry Augur to where the fires kissed. He knew, deep down inside that was where he was meant to be.

It went unnoticed in the chaos of the falling Spire, but something curious occurred to Augur as he was carried down the hallway: His ear twitched. There was a sharp pain behind his eye. Even if he had noticed, he would have shook it off as side-effects from his injuries.

---

The emerald path, follow the emerald path! The voice of Stipticus rang in Twilight’s head. She was, she was! With Trixie alongside, she was racing down the crumbling halls of the Spire, following a nautilus shell of corridors, up to an enigma. The witch-fires burned ever so brightly, swirling as they laid their path for the ponies to follow.

Up and up and up they went, never seeming to tire. From below, the sounds of stones cracking echoed up. The Spire could not last much longer.

Finally, after what seemed an exhausting eternity of running, they came to where the witch-fires kissed, a bright green flame arcing upwards, out of sight. The sloping walkway exited into a large circular chamber not unlike the one they had destroyed a short time before. Across the room was another sloping walkway, much like the one they had emerged from. The ceiling stretched into oblivion, lit only by the pillar of witch-fire. Four towering pillars supported the ceiling, shaped like black daggers.

“Now what, Sparkle? We’ve come as far up as we can and we’ve nothing to show for it.”

Twilight stared up at the fire pillar, eyes wide, disbelieving. She couldn’t be wrong; Stipticus had told her. She was the one who was going to atone; she had to be. Why weren’t the fires showing her the way? Why was she now forsaken?

The scuffle of hoofsteps and a low moan interrupted her thought process. From the other ramp came Daydancer, propping up a battered Augur. All of a sudden, Augur opened his eyes, and took an unstable step forward.

“The fires!” he breathed. “Yes, yes, I know what to do.”

“You do?” Twilight asked sharply. Some part of her felt jealousy at the stallion knowing what she did not.

Augur stood on his hind legs and propped himself up against a pillar and stared at Twilight Sparkle. “I do know. It’s fate. My fate and nopony else’s. I know now… My life has prepared me for this.”

His ear twitched.

His right eye had a sharp pain.

There was a sudden hot flash of pain in his side. He blinked, feeling a cool breeze blow through him somehow. He felt the world spin, go black. As his face hit the floor, he saw the ragged form of his ex-leader, horn aglow with foul magic.

A thought, a mad thought flashed through his head as he faded. Is it my turn to be the griffin, Clover Bell?

Then all was darkness.