What Does a Hero Truly Need? Vol. 2: A Dire Need of Heroes

What does a Hero Truly Need? Vol. 2

                                                                Original Idea and Story By: Zelkova48

                                                                         Current Story By: Deverer

                                                                  Chapter 1: The Battle Begins, Again

The sound of metal clashing against other metals filled the air. As time passed on, these sounds seemed to either die off, only to come back; or even simply move around in the world.

Such is the war of the Ancients, supposed great beings that have their powers limited by opposing Ancients. It is said, and proven on these fields, that they give great reward to those that fight for their cause. Among these rewards: mana for attunement to the world and energy, resources to expand and thrive, but most of all; life.

As time has passed on, these Ancients have been given names, which have evolved to factions: the Radiant, and the Dire. What started out as the fight between the supposed good forces of the Radiant, due to the lush forests that sprang around these base; and the supposed evil of the Dire, due the magma that devastated the land, has also shown that balance is never set in stone.

For because the world is always changing, so too has the warriors that fight for these forces, otherwise known as heroes. It started out simple enough, Radiant heroes fought for the Radiant Ancient, and Dire heroes fought for the Dire Ancient. With the passage of time, this has changed considerably. It is on these fields, these battlegrounds, where long lived foes can put their differences aside for the same cause. Where those that claim to fight for the light, will turn against those that do the same. There are also those there for the sake of themselves, who want to benefit from the endless power and the endless conflict that never seems to end. Brought upon by the destruction of the Mad Moon.

Alliances and pacts come and go, trusts are created and destroyed instantly in these conflicts. No matter how long the fighting has gone on, all these heroes know that this battle may continue forever; and that they may be in that fight forever given the longevity that is speculated to be given.

It goes to show that anyone can be good, or be evil; it all depends on where you are.

“There's no escape!” an ethereal voice called out, the echo and crackle of it filling the air. A storm raged overhead as Lanaya the Templar Assassin ran up one of the stone steps out of the river of the battlefield's river. She clutched her hip in pain while simultaneously making sure to keep her balance, while also making sure to not shred her being with her own psi blades. She took a quick glance back at her pursuer, of whom she dared to not stop for a split second to allow him to finish her off; Razor, the Lightning Revenant.

Armed with electricity, both in hand and in cast, the Lightning Revenant is one of the rulers of the Underscape; the realm of the deceased. He is the primary watcher, or at least one of the most well known watchers of the Narrow Maze, where souls use their life's knowledge to determine their final fate. It is his job to make sure the souls do not dally toward their long awaited end to their living life. Through force, or through sheer amusement to remind all of his power, he is the one that makes sure that souls eventually pass through the Maze.

His 'body' if it were be classified as such, is clad with black and blue armor plating, and seemingly glass like casing around the upper parts of his only two limbs. Throughout his whole being, his own electricity flows onward in its plasma like vibe, only to crackle outward seemingly violently when it exits; calm and collective on the inside, but not afraid to lash out when the times comes. All of this is topped off with his helmet, which seems to serve also as a reminder that he is the jailor of the new arrivals. Many vertical bars and openings run down the length of it to form his 'mouth' and 'eyes,' but they could very well be interpreted easily as the bars of a jail cell. On top of this helmet rest three spikes, two in the back which could be seen to make him to be a demon, and a single on that stands alone in the center.

“Not even the Temple hides from the Underscape, Templar!” Razor taunted outward. Lanaya ignored his words, forcing herself up another set of stairs and to a fork in the forest; either down another set of stairs, or veer off to the left. Her thoughts were cut short as Razor's voice became present again, this time in a sadistic roar of satisfaction of sorts. As she turned her head to look again, she found a ring of his electricity flowing across the ground and surging toward her. She only closed her eyes and wished to be able to hide from his onslaught at this very moment.

The next thing she felt however, was the feeling of being unwound, along with hearing a chime in the air. She looked to the source and found Io, the Guardian Wisp, tethered to her with its magic. Razor's Plasma Field of energy swept by Lanaya, but the field found no target as both the assassin and the wisp disappeared, leaving behind only a whirlpool of unwinding pure matter where Io once was.

“Souls may run, but at the end of your current of life, you will come to me,” Razor commented, as he positioned himself near Io's departure spot. He readied his lightning whip, his signature tool and weapon, for the eventual return of Io; the Fundamental of Matter and Form, who must always repair the tears it makes in the planes for the sake of all.

Suddenly, a rush of wind blew past Razor, who turned to see an ethereal spirit nearby. He barely had time to react as a wave of magic washed over him as the magical structure of the surrounding area ruptured for but a split second. As he floated in frozen stasis, Io reappeared back to its spot, and tethered itself to the being who sent the spirit: Elder Titan, the Worldsmith.

The supposed shaper of this world, the shaper that put the pieces already there in place at the beginning, stomped his way up to Razor's frozen form. As he readied his in hand weapon, a flap of wings caught his attention. Looking upward, he found a winged creature with glowing golden eyes rapidly descending to the ground. Both he and Io braced themselves as the creature struck the ground, sending out a shockwave of force. Another shockwave followed soon after as a second creature slammed down on the ground, the magical force enough to give even them pause.

“You may both play a part in keeping this world together, but that does not mean you are immune to death,” a ghostly voice called outward. With a gust a wind, the owner of the voice presented himself to the group: Visage, the Bound Form of Necro'lic.

A mixture of physical stone and magical energies come together to form the shape of a ghastly gargoyle. If Razor patrols and jails the dead, Visage by comparison is the warden of the whole ordeal. It is said that Necro'lic is the spirit of death, all pain that living things feel is because of him. Without Necro'lic, there could be no death, and therefore no life. As time has gone on, souls that have died have rejected their lives after death, and thus fled back to the living realm. It was from this continued practice that Visage was formed, the guardian of the Narrow Maze and one of the rulers of the Underscape as well. If a soul denies death, it is Visage that is sent to reclaim them through any means necessary.

It is not Visage though that reaps the souls of the living himself, he is but a peacekeeper in the cycle of life and death; as such, he himself wields these powers so that balance may be preserved. As all are given life and guided to begin that life, it is he that watches the souls pass on as they enter his veil and enter the Maze.

He is not alone in his duty to preserve balance outside the Maze and the Underscape, along with Razor, it is also his Familiars that guard the Maze; beings such as Visage that hold Necro'lic's powers to watch over the infinite number of new arrivals that come to them. The two winged creatures before the group are such Familiars, pulled through the very veil of death to serve Visage by means of the chains he wields in his claws.

“There are souls that do not deserve to be here and as such, we must bring them back!” Visage yelled outward, as he drew his wings backward. Energy ripped upward from the ground as various ghostly appendages from many different beings began to grasp under Elder Titan's form. Meanwhile, Razor shook off the effects of the Worldsmith's Echo Stomp, and reached his free hand outward toward his foe being assaulted.

“I don't appreciate being thrown into shock, but allow me to complete the current of conflict you started.” A stream of electricity began to shoot outward from Elder Titan and connected to Razor. The Worldsmith and the Guardian Wisp immediately began their retreat away from the beings of the Underscape, with Elder titan struggling against the grasp of Visage's magic.

Meanwhile, across the forest, another hero of the Radiant ran as fast as his legs would carry him. He adjusted the grip of his pike as he crossed over the lane and pass some of the creeps battling it out. This hero is known as Azwraith, The Phantom Lancer; known as being a one being army of illusions and light. Each strike and ability of his is known for the manifestation of more of himself, if it is even his actual self you are fighting.

As he slipped into the forest, his journey to to the aid of his friends was interrupted as a golden net landed on top of him, trapping him in place.

“Ey! I wrangled up one of them!” a slightly high pitched voice yelled. Azwraith looked around him and saw four individuals who all looked the same. Bipedal rodents with blue hoods, a pack of supplies, a red nose, a piece of wheat being chewed upon, and a shovel with an engraving on the head.

They are known as Meepo, Meepo, Meepo, and last but not least, Meepo. More specifically: Meepo, The Geomancer. Little is known about this rat pack, but Meepo always speaks of the skill and tools needed to survive the Riftshadow Ruins, and tales of rituals that he claims to have survived. He has spoken of one such ritual where one's soul is stored in a crystal and then shattered; whether this is the source of his (or their) divided nature is unknown. Nonetheless, the four Meepos work as a well oiled machine, when they're not bickering with each other. It's also sometimes five depending on if the fifth can even find where the heck they are, as they always seem to forget about Five and/or vice versa. Recently, only when Meepo holds the Aghanim's Scepter can the fifth track them down to the battlefield, even clones need awareness. Outside the battlefield he is often late to the party in some way most of the time anyway, according to their own tales.

“Hey, One, what should we do with this guy?” one of the Meepos asked.

“Hey, he's not just one guy, it's an army versus and army with us, Three!” another spoke.

“Eh, shut up, Two! You and Four need ta work on your wrangling skills anyway!” yet another spoke, his voice the deepest in pitch out of all of them, yet still high pitched.

“It's not my fault that we forgot to wake up Five though!”

“I said shut it! Ah-tack!” the Meepo called One yelled aloud, and with that, all of them began to rush the Azwraith in the net. As they brought down their respective shovels down onto the Phantom Lancer, he immediately dissolved into light. “See what happens when you stop and talk?”

“You did it too!” Four countered.

“And now we're surrounded on top of that!” Three added. The rest of the pack looked up from where the one Azwraith was, only to see another five standing at the ready.

“Hmm... that was quick, any ideas?” Two asked.

“We follow the golden rule: Smash and Bash!” One shouted, raising his shovel up into the air with one arm. The rest of them began to follow suit, with the exception of Four, who reached over to his pack to grab one of the gems sticking out of it.

As the other Meepos ran off to fight the other Lancers, Four took the sky blue gem in his left paw and raised his shovel upward, grasping the tool with both hands and the gem between his paw and the handle.

“Ba-dum da bum, bum, bum!” he sang aloud, while shuffling his feet and kicking dirt up around himself. Suddenly, the crystal shattered and the kicked up dirt shot all around himself, the Phantom Lancer clones disappearing into mists of light. “Well that was easy, and anticlimatic, the real one was never here!” Four commented, the other Meepos all turned their heads and looked around at the trees.

“Split up! Find someone and cave their head in!” One yelled, while also turning to run out of the clearing. “And if you're the one who gets us killed, you're buying us all lunch!” he yelled over his shoulder.

“Ya know, I don't wanna waste my time chasing that Lancer guy,” Two said. “I think Imma head back to our forest and cave in some skulls that aren't nearly as annoying,” he said, while waddling off.

“Yeah, I think I'll push the middle lane here,” Three added, also walking off.

“I think I'll go back to base, in case One wants to waste our gold some more; I still don't know why that damn Ancient gives only him the gold,” he muttered to his now lone self as he stalked off.

As all the Meepos wandered off on their own ways, a bend in the light appeared in a nearby bush, and soon fully materialized into another Azwraith. He breathed a sigh of relief and grasped his pike with both hands as he continued on his interrupted journey. His short sigh of relief was interrupted as the ground below him erupted into a fountain of spikes.

“Light beams down onto sand, and the sand absorbs into its being, and you are no different to me,” a calm, and somewhat projecting voice called. As Azwraith landed back onto the the now ruptured ground where he stood, he caught a glance at his assailant: Crixalis, the Sand King.

One might mistake Crixalis as being just a giant scorpion with powers over the earth, but there is more to him than meets the eye, just like the mirages of the desert that he calls home: The Scintillant Waste. Wastelands though, it is not, it is a desert that is alive and like many living beings, it seeks to survive. The Djinn of Qaldin is the supposed leader of the land, and has thus created armor so that the desert may see the world beyond its land; by augmentation of part of its being into this very armor, Crixalis was born.

He is the ambassador of the Waste, he represents its will and its interests, and he named himself 'Crixalis' to show that he is the 'Soul of the Sand,' while others refer to him as 'King' of the Sand. It is unknown if Crixalis' actions are through his own experience, or the Waste's word communicating his next move. Nonetheless, despite his forged nature, he is alive and is just as sentient as any other living being.

“It is my duty today to ensure victory, a shame that I have to do this again to you and the others I have worked along side before, but time must flow like sand in an hourglass,” Crixalis commented, as he raised one of his claws at Azwraith.

Elsewhere still, another being behind a line of trees watched the two, along with holding his staff outward and light gathering from it. The being is known as Ezalor, the Keeper of the Light. One of the four fundamentals, just like Io; it is because of him that order and good exists in the universe. It is he that gives all beings a reason to cherish what they desire, for he himself runs from chaos, representing the will to keep the light alive.

“Deafening Blast!” a booming voice yelled outward. Suddenly, Ezalor became victim of a wave of blue of magic hitting both him and the horse he rides upon, the magic in his staff shooting outward while he was pushed perpendicular to where the light went.

“Agh! Er... wait, what happened?” Ezalor mumbled.

“Fundamental of Light and Order, face me!” the voice yelled. Ezalor and his horse turned to the source of the voice, a man dressed in a white and red cape with gold at the edges. His robe colored mostly a dark purple along with various golden linens such as his cuffs and at the end of his sleeves.

It was none other than the Invoker, once called the Arsenal Magus, and for good reason. It is said that Invoker alone has said to have learned everything of the past, because he was there to see and study everything. While not truly immortal, Invoker has in fact lived for possibly eons, which he is not afraid to boast about. Invoker is also not afraid to hide his sheer magical talent, as everywhere he walks he seeks a challenge in the field of arcanery, or any challenge at all.

His beginnings are shrouded in mystery as to where they began, but how they began is another story. In times past, it was unheard of for a mage to learn more than one spell, learn through sheer memory and will without the aid of today's wands and books. Invoker learned and mastered every spell he could get his hands on with the power of his own mind.

Some would say that a quasi-immortal state would drive one mad, drive them to insanity with the amount of knowledge of so many years in a single mind. They say the individual would destroy themselves; this is not the case for Invoker, as while you may think he's insane with how he treats his enemies, every moment of his time he diverts to concentration that a normal being strives for.

Over his years, he has made his marks on history through his talents and achievements alone, and has made his own stamp with his unique form of spell casting, even in this day in age. The title of 'Invoker,' while unknown of when it came to be, represents this very form of spell casting. Along those years, after he has learned spells, he has also felt the need to purge spells that he deems insignificant from his mind forever; there are also rumors that he has purged the very spell that gave him his long life from his mind. In magic terms, to 'Invoke' is to ready and create on the fly, to cast without delay. This is what made him such a prodigy in his time, and still holds up today.

You can easily recognize The Invoker from his three orbs that revolve around him, for these are the sources of the ten spells that he claims still 'entertain' him to this very day, because these are the ten spells that he uses in battle and these ten alone. Whether this is because he does not see the flaw of limiting his arsenal, or him purposefully doing this to better flaunt his own image, is not known. Regardless, the fact that he can have such potent spells ready in an instant is what makes him both revered and feared. His sheer devotion alone has, and makes him, a true presence on the battlefield.

“Your light shines, but my magic shines brighter! Face me in battle if you dare! Or die running away from my superior mind!” Invoker yelled aloud to Ezalor. The Keeper of the Light looked over to Invoker, and back to the area where he shot his wave of light.

“Oh, dear...” Ezalor murmured. He grabbed the reigns of his steed with his free hand and beckoned it to sprint away.

“Yes, run from my rays of superiority! All fall before me in the end!” Invoker exclaimed aloud, as he ran after the fundamental.

Meepo One continued to rub his whole face violently at their failure to apprehend Azwraith, lost in his rantings, he failed to notice the environment around him.

“Those dang imbeciles, sometimes I wonder if it would be better for me to have complete control of all of em, instead of them thinking for themselves most of the time,” he grumbled, waddling up some stairs. “I mean, when we actually coordinate together and watch each others' back like we fundamentally have to, we're a menace! But, of course, there have to be those days where they all stand around doin' nothing or are blindly following me around,” he leaned back and looked skyward. “Look at all these other heroes, they don't have any idea what kind of stuff I've had to go through, what kind of-” he was cut off as something bopped him square in the nose. “Ey!” he yelled, staggering backward slightly. He looked and realized what it was that hit him; one of the legs of Elder Titan, who was still running from Razor and Visage. “Oh, fun!” One exclaimed, lifting his shovel over his head. A second later, he was suddenly blinded by a light and a massive wind sent him flying.

Invoker continued to throw bolts of his magic at Ezalor, while Ezalor himself continued to flee.

“My elements of ice, storm, and fire snuff out any opposition! Including light!” Invoker yelled.

“That boy needs to have his head checked...” Ezalor whispered to himself. He raised his staff upward, and his horse began to whinny aloud, as their whole beings became illuminated. He brought his staff downward onto the ground, cracks of light surging beneath it. Ezalor then paused for a moment and swept his staff toward a line of trees, a rush of wind emerging from behind it. Finally, his pointed his staff forward for a moment, and an image of himself with a growing ball of light in its 'staff' appeared.

“I care not for your tricks, my magics are as practical as they get! That's why none stand before me!” Invoker exclaimed. “Remember me, for I will forget you, once I am done wasting the effort it takes to acknowledge you!” Invoker ran past the image that Ezalor left behind, focusing only on the true Ezalor.

The very moment Crixalis raised his claw at Azwraith, a light surged right between the two and blinded the living armor. The light was accompanied by a rush of wind that sent the Sand King flying. As he landed, Crixalis took note of a sudden shudder in the earth. Despite the blindness in his multiple eyes, he could make out a fissure forming just underneath himself. He looked upward next to himself and saw the form of one the Meepos next to him, splayed outward on the ground. Turning his head, he found Elder Titan sheathing the tool he carries on his back, with Io next to him.

“Flee! We must all flee now!” the voice of Visage call outward.

“Yes, you must flee from my wrath!” came the voice of Invoker. The blindness faded from the affected heroes' eyes and they all saw what was happening: all of the heroes of the Dire were standing on top of a fissure made by the Worldsmith. Crixalis laid right next to Elder Titan and Io, followed very closely by Meepo One. Razor and Visage were both in the center of the chaos, while Invoker was at the far end, seemingly still oblivious to what was happening.

“As I created, so too, can I break,” Elder Titan bellowed.

“Now you will all see the light,” Ezalor called outward, standing on the opposite end of the fissure. Suddenly, in another flash of light, Lanaya appeared next to him.

“Know now, all mysteries of the world,” the assassin whispered.

“All of ours lights, shall burn you all away this day!” a multitude of voices called out, belonging to a new army of Phantom Lancers. Razor turned his head to observe the surrounding situation.

“This is not-” he was cut off suddenly, as the tether from Io was broken from Elder Titan and was connected to Ezalor, which ran through each hero of the Dire. Suddenly, in three puffs of smoke and dirt, the other Meepos appeared next to One, and also next to Io. Everyone who could turned their heads to the spectacle, as Io's formed flickered slightly and some of the Phantom Lancer clones vanishing into golden mist.

“Kill the ball of light!” Two yelled.

“Out of my way!” Four added.

“Beat down time!” Three commented. The standing rat pack began to all mercilessly bring their shovels down onto the fundamental. Invoker looked over the sight of all the was happening, and time slowed down for him as he took the time to archive this moment. He turned his head and saw the image that Ezalor had left behind fire off its orb of light, and formed five ethereal horses which were charging at them.

“Methinks... this is not good...” Invoker commented, as the Meepos succeeded in finishing off Io with its tether still going through the whole of the Dire team. The newly formed fissure exploded underneath all of them as well, along with a stampede of horses made of light running right through them with Lanaya's psi blades piercing through them and the fabric of matter.

An explosion, across the sky of all of Equestria. One that rocked the ground, shook the air, and fizzled the very fabric of magic itself. The magnitude of it made the idea of any living thing claiming they did not feel it, or hear it, laughable. Inside the confines of Canterlot Castle, the two diarchs of the land gazed upward toward the sky despite the walls. Instantly the two beings, the princesses Celestia and Luna, flared their magic and disappeared in a flash.

On Canterlot Castle's highest tower, both rulers reappeared on the accompanying balcony, each one looked to the sky and saw a beige hole in the sky, lightning arcing out of it. For what may be a few seconds in reality, felt like hours as the two of them observed the specticle, and as fast it happened, the singularity disappeared.

“Luna? Did you yourself pick up on the kind of explosion that was?” Celestia asked. The receiver of the question looked away from the sky as to her sister.

“I did sister... and it feels so familiar.” Luna looked to the sky,  “This is just like what happened last time, correct? When they first arrived here?”

“When they appeared, it was before the wedding. They did their part for us, but now it seems like history may be repeating itself; perhaps a new event is coming to Equestria, one that requires more heroes.”

“It is both a blessing and a curse, for while we may get help, it is help that comes with a catastrophe. This time however, we must not make mistakes; they taught us that well last time.”

“Indeed. This time, let us make a greater effort to intercept the heroes; if there are any coming through this time.”

“I will scramble the guards, we will be prepared this time,” Luna declared. She splayed her wings outward and took off from the balcony, down toward the main body of the castle. Celestia trotted up toward the telescope and looked into it and to where the singularity appeared.

“Five... lights, lining up like last time,” she noted. “All are branching off, but... they appear to be more skyward.” She stepped backward from the telescope. “My student, I hope you are prepared as well,” she said aloud, as she looked to the sky with her own eyes. Celestia inhaled deeply, taking in the spectacle and sight. Her building awe was interrupted suddenly as a bolt of lightning from where the singularity was struck downward onto the ground, and into the Everfree forest. Celestia flinched at the sight, and nearly ran back up to the telescope to look inside, she saw that one of the lights had disappeared. “This... complicates things now...” she muttered, as the resulting thunder reached her ears.

Moments earlier, in the town of Ponyville, inside the library. The residents Twilight Sparkle and Spike, stood in the main area of the library.

“Alright, Spike, it's that time again, time for re-shelving!” Twilight Sparkle declared aloud.

“Okay, Twilight, I'm clear from the impact site!” Spike called outward, a helmet on his head as well.

“Okay, commence scattering of books in five, four, three-” she did not get to finish as the whole library, and by extension the rest of Ponyville, began to quake from the explosion in the sky. Both them, and all the books on the shelves, dropped to the floor in the first second. Twilight however, sprang back up and flared her magic and disappeared in a purple flash.

“Hey! I wanna see it too!” Spike called outward. He picked himself off the floor and stumbled his way out the door.

All around Ponyville, the residents gathered and looked to the sky, seeing the singularity that caused the disturbance. Twilight herself looked her eyes onto the sight, so much so that you could see its reflection in her eyes. Spike himself slowly walked up next to next, his eyes on the sight as well.

“Twilight? Does this mean...” Spike trailed off. Twilight gave a slow nod, her eyes never losing sight of the singularity, before it disappeared into the ether.

“I believe so, Spike, the only difference this time was the color of it,” she answered. She looked down to one of her fore-hooves, and made a quick motion upward with it. “We need to get ready,” she declared.

“I'm all set to go, but what about-”

“The books can wait, and... well, I just need a moment, if this is really happening again...” she trailed off for a moment, before a smile appeared on her face. “Ohmygosh! I know what happened last time, but this time, we got-” she was cut of as a bolt of lightning cracked through the air, both Twilight and Spike ducked down and covered their respective set of ears. “Oh, Celestia!” Twilight yelled outward.

“What the hay?!” Spike yelled as well. “What was that about?” Both of them picked themselves up off the ground, and looked toward the direction of the Everfree forest.

“I don't know, Spike; this time it's going to be different,” she answered.

“Hey! Twilight!” a voice called, both dragon and unicorn looked to the source and saw a cerulean blur flying toward them.

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight acknowledged, as the pegasus landed near both of them.

“You guys know what this means, right?!” she yelled. “We gotta spread out and look-”

“Why are you yelling?” Twilight interrupted.

“What? I can't hear you! Don't you hear the thunder still going on?!” she yelled outward.

“There is no-” Twilight stopped and sighed a bit. “I guess she didn't have time to cover her ears from that,” she commented.

“Look, whatever the case, I'm gonna scramble some pegasi! That struck down in the Everfree, and we gotta step up to contain any fire that might have been made! I need to also make sure that Fluttershy is okay since she lives so close to the forest!” Rainbow ducked downward and then quickly took off into the air when she finished, leaving the two behind.

“Well, at least that takes of some of the problems,” Spike said.

“Indeed, Spike, why don't we follow up on that? I'll go get Pinkie, and you can go fetch Rarity; we can then meet up at Sweet Apple Acres,” Twilight instructed.

“You got it, Twilight!” Spike answered along with a salute. The baby dragon turned and began to run out into the town.

“If you happen to get a letter from the princess, wait until you and I are together again before we read it!” Twilight called outward.

“Gotcha!” Spike called back. Twilight nodded her head to herself and turned to run the opposite direction.

Far outside the border of Ponyville, Trixie stared upward to the sky, lost in awe at the sight of the singularity when it was around, and stoic in her position despite the bolt of lightning catching her off guard.

“Ms. Lulamoon?” a voice called out. Trixie immediately snapped out of her gaze and looked to the source, an earth pony stallion with a gray beard.

“Uh, Mr. Rock! I... I was just-”

“It's okay now, dear; I'd probably have a chair and a cold glass by now if I were in your position,” the earth pony farmer commented. “Listen, why don't you come inside? I think this warrants an early lunch and family consultation, one day missed of work this time of year won't matter that much.”

“Oh, uh... yeah, I think I would like that,” she replied sheepishly.

“Just grab your tools, I'll help y'all with the cart here/ Lime, Marble, and Quartz are already packing up as well,” he added

“Yes sir.” She levitated her pickaxe and chisel into the air and sheathed them onto her work belt.

“Do you happen to have any idea what that was? In terms of magic? I never got around to figuring out was that last one was.” Trixie tiled her head slightly towards the ground, her eyes glancing around as she moved.

“If I were to hypothesize... a lot of magic was mixed together at one moment, both conflicting and working together at the same time. Even beneficial magic can reach a... 'too much' state, let's say. If we were to ignore the limitations of our own stamina, we still have to watch out for the limits of how much we can put out at once, and these 'too much' states could be reached easily. However, I don't think princess Celestia or even princess Luna has ever reached that point,” she answered.

“So basically, y'all are saying that something, or perhaps somethings even, were so powerful, more powerful than the princesses even, that those holes in the sky were made? By possibly an accident?” he asked. “Shoot, if that don't make somepony's hair stand up at all, then my name ain't Igneous Rock." Trixie looked over to her boss with a confirming nod, before turning her head back to the sky

“You got that right, alright,” Trixie replied.

Inside the building of Carousel Boutique, Spike watched in both awe and worry as the owner of the establishment paced back and forth across the room, as she rambled to herself out loud

“Oh dear me, the things we've seen and heard the last time this happened. I think this time we should perhaps bring along some of the hospital staff; do you think Twilight would object to that, Spike dear?” she asked the dragon.

“I... uh, well... she said she wanted to us meet up at AJ's orchid; I think maybe if we ask her there, she would agree. I think if we take the initiative, she may freak out first that we didn't stick right with the plan, then be cool with the idea,” Spike answered, one of his claws scratching the back of his head. “Maybe if we... I dunno, Rarity, ever since the wedding... Twilight's been more double check-y and more plan strict than ever,” he let out a sigh and leaned downward, letting his arms hang. “So many... things, so much at once, I'm surprised she manages to keep it contained and-” Spike stopped as one of Rarity's fore-hooves found itself under his chin. The hoof pulled his head up and his gaze met Rarity's eyes and smile.

“Calm down now, Spikey Wikey,” Rarity soothed, Spike's face immediately blushed at mention of the deviation of his name. “Twilight is our friend through and through, we know how strong she is, she'll get through this.” Spike himself continued to stare into Rarity's eyes, Rarity flared her magic and surrounded Spike with it. “Let's get going now, we'll go to Twilight directly, then we can break off and head to get any help we need to get,” she said, as she placed Spike on her back. Spike himself just stared forward, along with his jaw snapped open, despite the change in position.

Twilight groaned outward as she stood in Sugarcube Corner, listening to her friend Pinkie talk aloud.

“...and the emergency disaster blockers that I put around all of our standing confectioneries and supplies worked like a charmy charm, charm!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, placing a clipboard down onto the main counter of the store lobby. “Everything is checked and accounted for! So, what was it you wanted?” Pinkie asked Twilight, the latter of which rubbed her forehead as Pinkie finished talking.

“Well, Pinkie, we need to-”

“Oh! Silly me! I know why you're here! You and I and the rest of the gang need to all get together because of the very familiar event that had me doing an emergency inventory check approximately thirteen seconds ago! Well, I'm ready now, so let's go!” Pinkie then proceeded to bounce out of the store, Twilight stared forward into space. She merely shook her head back and forth rapidly before turning to step out of the store.

“It's just Pinkie, Twilight, and it's that cheerfulness that's helped us so much before,” she said to herself, a small smile formed as she stepped outside.

“T-thank you so much for helping me, Rainbow Dash... everyone here wasn't even prepared for the lightning and thunder...”

“I'll always be there for you, Fluttershy. Is every animal accounted for now?” Rainbow asked, as she gave a mouse a slice of a cheese wedge.

“Yes, everyone is calmed down now, and all the ones who were sleeping are now back asleep. Now, you... you wanted me to help patrol the Everfree? R-right?” Fluttershy asked, as she stepped down the stairs.

“Yeah... we need every available pegasus ready to move rainclouds in case there's a fire out there, and I'm glad my hearing's back now for this.”

“I'll... I'll do it, I know I can do this...” Fluttershy replied quietly. “The rain delivery was one thing, but this time, I know I really need to do this. Even the animals in the Everfree, no matter how ferocious looking, don't deserve what may be happening out there.” Rainbow Dash's eyes went wide at Fluttershy's statement.

“Whoa... alright then, ready to fly then?”

“Y-yeah... but... do you think... that... maybe, there's some... one out there?” as she asked, Fluttershy turned her head away, Rainbow Dash herself looked away with a turn of her eyes.

“Well...” she started, but shook her head almost immediately after. “No way! This was just the randomness of the Everfree!” she said aloud. "I think..." she whispered.

“O... okay then...” Fluttershy inhaled deeply, and turned her head back to Rainbow, exhaling as she finished the motion. “Then, let's.... f-fly!” she attempted to yell, Rainbow smiling slightly at the gesture.

“We're all in this together, Fluttershy. Us, Applejack, Pinkie, Rarity, and Twilight; we're all a team. Twilight's made it very clear that we're strongest when we're together, just like a true team is, no matter what that team is. No matter where that team comes from, we've learned first hoof that harmony reigns supreme everywhere.”