Hero
The cheers of the crowd deluge my ears. The sky above is a perfect, sunny blue, which for an instant flashes a foreboding dark yellow; it’s my job to ensure they don’t notice. From somewhere far beyond the adoring shouts of my fans, growls and hisses of danger filter in. Malevolent crystal structures infect the architecture of the Empire even as the citizens celebrate. The air is electric with danger. The enemy is near. Time is running out. And I’m dressed in armor.
It’s the perfect day to be a hero.
I smile. A refreshing wind whips at my face, drying out my lips. I lick them in anticipation. My usually-flowing mane is trapped beneath my helm, leaving only a short crest visible, but I know I look just as cool as ever to the ponies in the stands. Across the field, Fluttershy takes her position, fumbling with her lance. She’s scared – but then again, when isn’t she? At least she isn’t shaking like a leaf anymore. I told her I’d go easy on her, and I meant it. With any luck, by the time the next round starts, she’ll be acting like a real knight.
The plan is simple: We need to put on a good show for the crystal ponies, to keep them happy and energised and the Crystal Faire in full swing. It’s the second round out of three of the jousting tournament, and I’m planning to lose.
Lose the round, I mean. Not the tournament. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.
Fluttershy’s confidence is visibly higher after my little pep-talk, but it’s not quite high enough. Besides, me trouncing her on every run would be boring. I know what makes for a good show. These ponies need to see a hero who has earned her way to triumph though genuine death-defying peril. So, this time only, I’m going to throw the fight and let Fluttershy knock me out. That’ll tie up the match, building a peak level of suspense in the audience. Fluttershy will gain confidence with a victory under her belt, and with my best friend finally giving it her all, the third, final round is going to be positively epic.
I’ll win, of course, but until that moment, everypony will be on the edge of their seats in anticipation, and when I rightfully claim the championship as the hero of the Crystal Empire, their spirits will soar almost as high as me. Almost.
The sky flashes again, and a few of the ponies look out in worry. Pinkie Pie, dressed in a jester’s costume and balanced on a colourful inflatable ball, blows her flugelhorn – at some point having gained actual skill in its use, though how or when, I have no idea. I charge at Fluttershy, and she mirrors my movements on the other side of the tilt barrier, throwing puffs of dirt in the air in her wake. She’s bolder this time around, her gallop more certain; more fluid. The pep-talk helped, all right. The distance between us closes fast. I hear only the pounding of my hooves and my heartbeat. As the tips of our lances pass each other, she doesn’t shy away like the first time, still looking me squarely in the eyes. If there were any time to talk, I’d toss a compliment her way, but there isn’t.
At the last moment, I deliberately throw my aim off, and slacken the muscles in my legs, letting simple momentum carry me forward. There’s no force coming from my hooves to oppose Fluttershy as her lance makes contact with my chestplate.
Then something happens. Something wrong, and there is a genuinely panic-filled instant where I don’t know how to react. I was supposed to be thrown straight back with enough latitude to aim for a pile of hay; that was the plan. Instead, I feel an unknown force catch my wing and tear it rearward. My entire body spins, and I can see the sky, the assembled ponies, the hard dirt, and Fluttershy’s aghast features again and again in rapid succession. I spin a good six or seven times on a diagonal axis. Under other circumstances, I’m sure that kind of move would be pretty impressive, though the effect is being ruined by a mare emitting a very loud and grating scream. That mare, I realise, is me.
Not cool.
The entire Earth stuffs itself forcefully into my mouth, silencing me. The rest of my body feels the need to give it a hug in thanks, though my mind doesn’t share the sentiment. Thankfully, I remain fully conscious through the impact allowing me to check “Taste-test Crystal Empire soil” off my list of things to do while I’m here.
I jump back to my hooves before the crowd can even finish gasping. They quickly cheer again, this time in relief at my apparent well-being. I do my best to look strong and confident, even as I spit out chunks of dirt and the occasional pebble from the corner of my mouth and silently count my teeth with my tongue. I snort, hoping what’s coming out of my nose is just mucus and not blood. My armor is, remarkably, still on straight, and the helm padding most likely helped to stave off any head trauma.
The real problem starts when I try to flare my wings. The right follows orders without question, but the left mutinies. I’m still at that point where pain – conscious pain – isn’t reaching my head. What I do feel is a sense of wrongness; an alarm my body is sounding to tell me that something important isn’t working the way it should. That something is broken.
I glance to my left wing. I don’t see anything majorly off at first. A couple of feathers are broken, one primary jutting out askew from its proper place underneath the wing. I pull it. It comes loose in my mouth without protest; it probably wasn’t even attached anymore. I toss it to the wind. Losing primaries is no laughing matter, but they grow back eventually. I’ll live.
The pain finally hits me, and now I can tell that whatever damage has been done is on the underside of my left wing. I finally put together that it must’ve caught on the lance tip. I try to stretch it out, but the sharp, crushing feeling quickly becomes too much. I pull it back carefully. There’s no blood, and the wing folds without any obvious defects in movement. The position, when folded, is good. If it weren’t for the pain, I’d say there was nothing wrong with it. Taking the pain into account, however, a fractured bone seems like a real possibility. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. There was the one incident where I literally snapped my right humerus clean in half. That hurt. This isn’t half as bad; maybe I didn’t actually break any bones after all. A severe contusion isn’t much better, though. I’m going to have to get this looked at soon.
“Oh, my goodness, Rainbow Dash, I’m so sorry! Are you all right?” Fluttershy asks, having arrived at my side, and looking for the world like she’s about to start up with the waterworks. “I... I didn’t mean to... I wasn’t trying...” she squeaks. Her armor’s clatter makes it easy to hear her quivering beneath it.
“Hey, calm down, Fluttershy,” I quickly order, walking that fine heroic line between sounding commanding and friendly. It works, and she stops shaking. “I’m fine. I’ve taken spills way worse than that. My wing’s probably gonna be sore tomorrow,” I assure her while making another attempt at extending the limb. The polish of my harness allows a cursory examination from what would normally be a difficult angle, and I confirm that there is, indeed, still no blood to be seen. “...but right now, we’ve still got an Empire to save!” I stomp my hoof for dramatic effect. Bad idea; the wing feels the jolt and cries out to me in misery.
“Wow, Dashie, that was sooooo cool!” Pinkie exclaims, appearing beside us out of nowhere, as usual. “You were both running at each other and CRASH! BAM! and then you were spinning round and round and round like this...” She demonstrates by pirouetting quickly and awkwardly on her ball several times, punctuating her motions with squeals and whees and the jingling of jester bells before losing her balance and slamming into the ground onto her back – the enthusiastic Pinkie smile never fading from her lips.
Well, at least somepony thought I looked good.
“And then I was worried that something might’ve happened because you didn’t land in the soft hay but on the hard dirt instead and I know that falling in the dirt can really hurt – maybe that’s why it rhymes! – but you got right back up again, just like the tough and brave Rainbow Dash I know!” she continues with a single breath, now back on her hooves. “So, are we ready for the next round?”
“Yeah, sure,” I answer, puffing out my chest and adopting one of my trademark confidence-inspiring grins. “The show’s gotta go on, right?”
Fluttershy cowers. “I... um... I don’t know. That looked really...” She gulps. “...dangerous.”
“Aw, come on Fluttershy!” I encourage. “I took the worst of it, and I’m still kicking! Remember: Fate. Empire. Danger.”
“Oh,” she replies meekly, chancing a short glance to the stands, then facing the ground. “A– alright.”
I feel a little guilty. I never like pressuring my best friend into taking risks, but it’s always for her own good. No matter the pain in my wing; Twilight and the others are counting on us. I’m willing to grit my teeth, suck it up, and finish the match, so Fluttershy has no excuse. Besides, she’s got her armor on just like me; there’s nothing really bad that can happen.
Okay, something obviously happened to me, but that has to be just a fluke, right? It just happened that Fluttershy’s lance caught my wing like that. The odds of it happening again are...
I observe her harness as she slowly turns around. The curves are smooth and there’s nothing for the ball-point of a lance to catch, save for a crescent-enfolded indent, marked by a purple jewel right in the middle of the chest, which just screams “aim here”. The way the collar wraps is meant to channel all blows that don’t contact there away from the neck and other exposed areas. In fact, the armor seems designed to deflect any hits that are not dead-centre to the chestplate off to the side, transforming them to mere glancing blows. It’s a safety-conscious design. If the lance doesn’t hit the target square and right on the mark, the point will roll either down to the dirt, or slightly up, along a pony’s back.
Right into a pegasus’ wing.
I run the mental simulation again, not really daring to believe it the first time around. There’s no question. That’s what this armor is made to do. Somepony put thought into this. What were they thinking?! Don’t they know how fragile wings are?!
I throw an accusatory look at the crystal ponies in attendance. Then my eyes go wide, as the gears in my head continue to spin.
Crystal ponies don’t have wings. This armor was designed for them. When I checked out the palace armory, it didn’t have any harnesses for pegasi, so I asked Twilight to help me make a simple modification to a couple so they would fit. We added wingscyes. We were careful to smooth out any sharp edges and add padding, just like real pegasus armor is made. Twilight even mentioned something about structural integrity being good despite removing some percentage of material.
But the shape. We didn’t do anything about that. I feel like Applajack just bucked me in the gut as the realisation hits me:
This competition – with this equipment – isn’t safe for pegasi.
It wasn’t a stroke of bad luck that my wing got hit. It was a stroke of good luck that it wasn’t shattered or ripped clean off. The same is true for Fluttershy.
I weigh my options.
Adjusting this armor would take hours, and that’s if I had help, so that’s right out. It comes down to one question: Should I risk my future as a Wonderbolt, not to mention my very ability to fly, in order to keep the tournament going and the audience happy and motivated to fight when the time comes? That’s what a daring, courageous pony like Daring Do would do. It’s what a true Wonderbolt would do. It’s not recklessness; it’s self-sacrifice; the mark of a true hero. The fate of an Empire hangs in the balance, after all.
But it’s not just my well-being at stake, is it? Fluttershy’s soft-pink tail swishes weakly in the dust as she walks off to the start zone in preparation for the final round.
So what if her wing gets torn off? It’s not like she uses them anyway.
I nearly slap myself for thinking something so horrible.
I decide then and there: There’s no way I can put Fluttershy through this. She doesn’t understand the risk, and there’s no way she’d agree if she did. I might be able to bully her into it, if I appealed to her selfless caring nature, but there’s no chance I’m going to sink that low.
There’s also a practical matter: Our goal is to keep the crystal ponies’ spirits high. Everypony loves a good match, but if either Fluttershy or I – or both – end up crippled and dragged off the field on a stretcher, it’s not going to be lightening anypony’s mood. It’s just too much of a gamble for everypony involved.
“Fluttershy?” I call out. “Pinkie?”
Both my friends approach me again. I steel my nerves and command my voice to be calm as I look them both in the eyes. “Listen, guys. Flut– I mean... That last round really did a number on me,” I explain, pointing to my injured appendage and trying to make it sound like it’s a no-big-deal, everyday kind of sporting decision that they shouldn’t freak out over. I chuckle to disarm their worried stares, but my eyes downcast despite my efforts as I continue. “Heh. I thought I could handle it, but, now that I try to move around... I really don’t think I can do another run. I...”
The muscles in my face twitch and bile rises in my throat as I swallow my pride – and there’s a lot of it – and say the words I have only ever contemplated speaking in my worst nightmares. They taste just as horrible coming out as I feared they would.
“I forfeit.”
Pinkie nearly sucks the air out of my lungs with her gasp. Fluttershy’s eyes go wide and her head retreats between her shoulders as much as her armor will allow, while her jaw trembles. “Oh, Rainbow...” she whimpers.
“Aw, come on, guys! So I got a little busted up. I’ll be fine tomorrow.” I roll my eyes and wave a hoof nonchalantly. “But I can’t put on a lame performance here today; what would all these ponies think? Besides, now we can go straight to the good part: Declaring the winner!” Seeing their blank expressions, I add, “That’s you, Fluttershy.”
“Oh... oh, my...” The shy pegasus flusters. “I– I don’t know, I mean, I didn’t really win...”
“Sure you did!” I pronounce, slapping her on the back and eliciting a soft eep. “You knocked me out of the match, all your moves were legal; that counts as a win!”
“I think Rainbow Dash is right,” Pinkie agrees with a solemn nod, flipping through the rulebook. “Section nine, subsection two, paragraph three: ‘If a contestant forfeits as a direct result of an injury sustained during a round other than the final round, and the forfeiture is declared before the start of the final round, and no offense included in sections three to seven has been committed by either contestant during all previous rounds, and the opposing contestant is deemed capable of continuing in the tournament if not for the forfeiture, then an unqualified match victory for the opposing contestant shall be declared at the discretion–’”
“Oh, put that away!” I yell, snatching the book out of Pinkie’s hooves and the ridiculous pink-framed glasses off her muzzle. “We don’t need another Twilight here. Fluttershy’s the winner! Go on, tell them,” I say as I toss the egghead paraphernalia aside. My forehoof indicates the crowd, which is visibly growing impatient. “And make it sound good!” I add with a hiss.
Pinkie skips forward, her jester hat jangling, her face beaming. “Fillies and gentlecolts!” the vibrant, pink voice booms across the stands. I don’t even question where she produced the megaphone from. “That last round was a real doozy, wasn’t it? Both jousters put up a terrific fight. However, I’ve just been informed that due to an injury, contestant Rainbow Dash will not be able to participate in the final round.”
A few disappointed grumbles echo forth.
“And that means the winner of today’s jousting tournament, the pony who flutters like a Shy but stings like a bee – but a really friendly, animal-loving bee! – is none other than... Fluttershy!” The uncertain pegasus walks up beside her, having trouble looking anywhere but the dirt at her hooves.
The crowd offers some polite applause and a few cheers, but there are just as many groans and downhearted awws.
Oh, no.
No way.
That just won’t cut it.
I run up and literally smack Fluttershy’s rump into the air. She yelps and floats somewhat lopsidedly. I seize Pinkie’s megaphone. “Come on, crystal ponies, you call that cheering?! I can’t hear you! You’re looking at the mare that managed to take down me – the undefeated Rainbow Dash!” I shove every bit of humiliation and disappointment aside and slap on the hugest grin I can manage. “So let me hear those hooves, and everypony give it up for the best jouster, the champion of the tournament, and the hero of the Crystal Empire... Knight... FLUTTERSHY!”
The crowd explodes. Now, that’s more like it. I don’t just hear their applause, I feel it in my hooves. “Smile!” I command Fluttershy. “Wave!” She does.
“Whoo! Bravo, Knight Fluttershy!” somepony from the audience shouts. “Way to go!” screams another. “You’re awesome, Flutters!” bellows my own raspy voice. Pinkie – now back on her ball – is shouting and bouncing up and down in a steady rhythm. Inspired by the hypnotic motion, I decide to start a chant, and the more enthusiastic parts of the crowd latch on immediately.
“Flut–ter–shy! Flut–ter–shy! Flut–ter–shy! Flut–ter–shy! FLUT–TER–SHY!”
The yellow pegasus’ cheeks go from a soft pink tint to beet red when the whole gathering gets going. She’s definitely not used to this kind of attention, but I have to give her credit; she’s still in the air, if struggling, still smiling and waving frantically. My jaw drops in surprise when some overenthusiastic stallion shouts “I love you!” and Fluttershy blows him a kiss. She does it in that shy, demure way of hers, and the fur on her face looks like it’s about to burst into flame, but still. I’m impressed.
Way to work the crowd, Shy.
She lands surrounded by crystal flowers that have been tossed her way, holding one between her teeth, and takes a bow. The ponies in the audience begin to file out of the stands and toward us.
She gasps, dropping the faceted blossom. “Wh– what’s happening?! What are they doing?”
I laugh. “You really haven’t done this before, have you?”
Her head shakes.
I explain: “Autographs!”
Sure enough, a quill gets stuffed into my mouth, and soon I’m signing everything from simple pieces of parchment to all sorts of knick-knacks and memorabilia. For some reason, hoof-woven straw hats seem to be a popular choice. I shrug, smile, and keep going. I’m supposed to keep these ponies happy, so this really is their lucky day; they get pretty much anything they want.
A young colt whom I didn’t see in the stands walks up, and I note the large cyan-blue feather he has stuck into a pretty impressive akubra-shaped thing. With the way he’s tilting his neck, it’s obvious he wants me to notice.
“Heh. Looking good, kid,” I chuckle, ruffling his mane playfully upon removing the custom creation to sign it. “You better hold onto that, ’cause I’m not exactly giving those out, you know.”
“You’re amazing! Thank you!” he squeals. It’s this kind of moment I live for.
I almost don’t even mind the fact that I have to put my own name after Fluttershy’s.
The line of ponies waiting for my autograph soon peters out, but I can see that my friend’s is still going. She’s clearly getting used to the attention; the mill of fans isn’t chasing her away, the way it would have a couple of years ago during her short stint as a fashion model. Instead, she’s smiling and even conversing with some of her new admirers. We had separated ourselves a bit to keep the crowd from getting too tight, but now I’m able to get closer, and finally hear what she’s saying.
“...but she taught me to never give up, because no matter how bleak or terrifying things might seem, there’s always hope as long as you have a loyal friend by your side.” She looks to me as she finishes. A few of the crystal ponies do, too.
Darn it.
When did she get all inspirational?
As if to purposely ruin the moment, the sky flashes again. Everypony looks around, worried. Pinkie is nowhere in sight; with demand for her autographs being rather low, it makes sense that she would go in search of a new audience.
“Uh, just remember what I said,” Fluttershy quickly adds with a broken smile, “especially now. Don’t worry. That big, scary, incredibly powerful monster-king trying to get into the Empire and enslave you all again with his mysterious dark magic is not going to be any problem.”
My hoof meets my forehead. Not the best choice of words there, Fluttershy.
I think it’s about time we wrap this up with a graceful exit and check on our friends.
“Come on,” I say, quickly helping her out of the bits of armor she’s still wearing. “Let’s go see how the others are doing. We put on a pretty good show today; let’s find out if any of them could match us.” I address what’s left of the audience. “Fluttershy’s right, though. Enjoy the fair, keep your spirits high, and that’s all we’ll need to keep Sombra out. Have a good time, everypony!”
The response is a little less enthusiastic than I’d like, but they seem to accept my words. Having already discarded my harness, I quickly leave them to enjoy the rest of the Faire and make straight for the castle on hoof with Fluttershy following right behind me.
Right behind me soon turns into a few yards in front of me, as my attempt at a gallop is reduced to an awkward, imbalanced canter. I can’t help it; every stomp of my hooves sends sharp bolts of pain through my injured wing. In retrospect, it’s a very good idea I didn’t attempt the final joust; it would’ve been a complete joke if I had.
Fluttershy notices my troubles and falls back to my side. “Are you okay?” she asks in that guilty, concerned tone she affects so easily.
“I’m fine,” I lie. “My wing’s just a little sore.”
“Oh. Well, if it’s still bothering you then you should really have that looked at. I think I saw a medical tent somewhere nearby... or I’m sure the Crystal Empire has a hospital...”
“No time!” I argue. “Let’s just get to the castle and find out what’s going on. We can take care of my wing later. Go and fly ahead of me; I’ll catch up.”
“I... uh... I can’t.”
“Huh? Why not?”
“I... um... I hurt my wing, too.”
“What?! When?!”
“It was that first round...” She instinctively hides her face. “When you knocked me back... I think I landed wrong, and it sort of got bent back. I might have pulled something. I’m sorry. I’m just not very good at jousting...”
“But... but you were flying! After you won, you were in the air!”
“Yes. But... it really hurt. After a minute, I couldn’t keep going.”
I stare at her in disbelief. I didn’t have the slightest idea what I forced her into. “Oh, for Pete’s sake! Why didn’t you say anything?!”
Her head is cowed and she starts to fall behind me, forcing me to slow down to match pace. “I didn’t want to upset anypony. I know you said how important it was for us to show the crystal ponies a good time...”
“Augh! Fluttershy!” I cry in exasperation. “It’s different if you’re actually hurt! Look at me; I like to push myself as hard as anypony but even I have my limits.”
Fluttershy is silent.
I sigh. “It’s okay. You can run, though, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then go! Find the others. I’ll be there in a minute.”
She nods and easily pulls ahead. I’m left to my own thoughts as I make my way down a crystal thoroughfare. I barely even notice the dim, blackened crystals that seem to be taking root all over the place. I think about her.
Fluttershy didn’t show any signs of being in pain. Only now can I recall that her hover was a little weird, as if she were heavier on one side. At the time, I chalked it up to her typical nerves. The reality was that she was injured through that entire second round I had pressured her into, and she didn’t even make a peep. She grit her teeth, sucked it up, and finished the match, making no excuse, even though she had a pretty good one. And then when I forced her into the air...
I wince. How was I supposed to know if she didn’t tell me?
And yet, besides the guilt, there is no question that my respect for my friend just jumped up several notches. No matter what anypony might say – no matter what I might say – that pegasus is tough as nails when she needs to be.
I’m going to need to get her autograph.
My smile turns into a frown as I approach the castle. Those dark rocks are growing at its base, and I spot some dull-coated crystal ponies whispering worriedly, gathered around a chipped crystal heart lying pathetically on the ground – the fake, non-magical heart that Twilight carved and that these ponies weren’t supposed to see under any circumstances.
Darn it, Applejack. I knew I shouldn’t have let her be the sentry. I bet even Pinkie Pie would’ve done a better job keeping it hidden.
“Everything’s fine!” I shout as I run past the gawkers. “Stay frosty!”
My friends are nowhere to be seen, but I assume at least some of them are on the balcony where Cadance and Shining Armor last were; it’s been our common meeting place since we arrived here. It would take me seconds to get there if I could fly. I groan, and start up the stairs.
There is a very little-known fact about pegasi: Most of them dislike stairs. I, however, being a truly awesome and exceptional pony, am not like most pegasi.
I loathe stairs.
“Ow! Ow! Ow! Horsefeathers!”
Every step jostles my injury, in spite of my best efforts to keep it stationary against my side. The pain slows me down, which I know is only prolonging the torture. If I went to the hospital, they would no doubt patch up my wing and then tell me to not do this exact thing for the next week. Even through the rush in my head and the thick crystal walls, I can hear the ominous crackle of the barrier around the Empire slowly failing. I press on. Every time I’m certain that I must have reached the top already, I’m faced with another turn and more stairs.
Only the most evil, cruel, and sadistic monster could enjoy having this many stairs around.
I make it to the main level and onto the balcony just in time to see all my friends except Twilight and Spike, just as I expected – and to witness the last, tenuous strand of blue magic abandon Cadance’s horn as she goes limp in Shining Armor’s hooves. The shield fizzles out completely, leaving the Empire surrounded by a sinister ochre sky. The others gasp and fidget, just as powerless to do anything as I am. Somepony down on the ground screams.
I can see him at the border. The ghost. The shadow. Sombra. He’s nothing but a huge, disembodied head, with only a trail of smoke where the rest should be, but it’s him. He’s made it inside. This is it.
“My crysssstal sslavessss...”
The voice isn’t very loud, but I can hear it perfectly even from this far away. Probably some magic; I wouldn’t be surprised if everypony in the Empire could hear it just as clearly.
I watch the crystal ponies cower and scurry before the monster, undoing in seconds all the effort we put into lifting their hopes and courage today. They aren’t just afraid; they’re absolutely terrified from years of being enslaved by this nightmare. The sight fills me with rage, and I want nothing more than to fly out there and buck that perverse smile right off his face. I bucked a full-grown dragon square in the snout once. This can’t be much harder, right? My wings stretch out on instinct, and I regret the attempt immediately. I’m grounded; helpless. I grit my teeth, and try to think up some good insults to scream at him. If he hears me, he might forget about all those ponies down there and head straight for us. It’s not much of a plan, but it’s something.
Twilight was always better with plans. What the hay is taking you so long, Twilight?
“Hey, up here!”
We all snap our heads upward.
“Spike?” Rarity asks, disbelieving.
The angle makes it hard to look, but near the top of the castle’s spire, on a haphazardly-expanding crystal lattice, stands Spike. And he’s holding something up for us to see. It’s big, blue, and shiny. It kind of looks like a heart.
No way.
“I got the Crystal Heart!” he yells down.
The animalistic growl that replies seems to come from everywhere at once. “That... is... mine!” The ground shakes as Sombra literally slams himself into it. Towers of sharp crystal begin to sprout from pitch-blackened earth, starting from his last location at the Empire’s edge, and continuing in an obvious beeline for the castle.
I look to the spire again. Spike is running downward around a newly-formed dark crystal helix. The little guy is definitely giving it all he’s got, but at this rate, it’s going to take his tiny legs the better part of forever to make it all the way to us.
Shining Armor’s eyes and mine lock for a split second. With my jaw clenched so tight that it’s starting to lose feeling and my eyes misting with frustrated tears, I give a short, sharp shake of my head. I try to open my mouth to offer up a proper explanation, but he’s already looking away, having taken only a fraction of a second to dismiss me completely. I can’t help, and so to him, in that moment, I don’t exist.
Military thinking; I can’t fault it.
With another omnipresent growl, a slab of crystal rises out of the earth a stone’s throw away from the castle. This one isn’t like the others. It’s much bigger – and still growing fast. It’s also a lot more pointy, with its deadly tip angled directly at Spike and the Heart like a macabre, gigantic dagger. Sombra himself materialises out of it, his smoky form clinging to the peak, riding the unnatural growth upward toward the dragon.
Suddenly, Spike slips.
He bounces once on his rump, and loses his grip on the Heart.
He falls.
“Spikey-Wikey!” Rarity covers her face, unable to look. I’m so tense that I forget to even roll my eyes at the childish nickname. I feel on the verge of exploding; invisible ants are crawling under my coat. One of my friends is falling to his death and I can’t do a thing. I silently curse Fluttershy for injuring both me and herself, and the crystal ponies for making such crappy jousting equipment, and Applejack for convincing me to do it in the first place, and Twilight for not being faster in finding the Heart. The last pony I curse is myself, because I know it’s not really any of their fault; it’s mine.
There is movement beside me, and I manage to tear my terrified sight away from Spike to see what it is. Shining Armor has slithered down and under his wife, effortlessly hoisting her onto his back. In a flash, he stands up, lifting his head, and Cadance’s, lying atop his mane, lifts in turn. They’re both looking to Spike now. I can’t figure it out.
Until Cadance flares her wings.
A moment ago she was either unconscious or so close to it that I couldn’t tell the difference. Now, her muscles pull taut. She nods, slightly but firmly. The pony beneath can’t see the action, but there’s no doubt he can feel it.
My eyes go even wider when I realise what they’re about to do.
The smoke around Sombra finally leaves, and he stands atop the growing crystal mountain on his own limbs. He’s just a pony now. It’s almost a taunt at this point, because now I know my hooves could pound him into paste, wings or no wings, if only there were a way for me to get there in time. Spike doesn’t have time, though. He’s falling, bravely grabbing for the Crystal Heart ahead of him even as his trajectory hurls him directly at the... spike... that’s still shooting up toward him.
No time to appreciate irony right now.
I tremble as Shining Armor rears on his back legs, his forehooves lifting Cadance up. The alicorn’s foreleg extends into a half-Supermare, her hinds point straight back, her wings pitch for a high-speed glide, her ears perk, and I’m pretty sure I can see her frown in cold determination. There is a tiny moment when I can judge both ponies’ posture, having seen a professional pegatoss a couple of times in my life.
It’s like they’ve practiced. It’s good.
Sombra is well above us now. He gains a dark grin and licks his lips. I briefly wonder if he’s actually thinking of eating the Crystal Heart, in some bizarre method of gaining its power – or eating Spike himself, in a reversal of the classic myth of pony-devouring dragons.
Okay, fine. It’s definitely ironic now.
I’m about to scream at Shining Armor to do it, to save Spike from being eaten or impaled when... He does it. And it’s a perfect toss; high-energy, and right on target. The only flaw is that he closes his eyes on the release, but I’m not about to start deducting points.
I jump once in place, as if the useless act could somehow contribute energy to his throw.
Cadance is a pink-and-purple streak. I’ve gone faster a few times, but not by much. It’s a good thing, too, because there can’t be more than five feet remaining between Spike and Sombra when she reaches them, snatching my dragon friend from his doom with not a moment to spare. The dark unicorn emits a dense “Huh?” as he looks around in befuddlement for the prize which just vanished from right in front of his face.
My grin forms the instant his disappears.
Cadance wastes no time. She swoops away, around and downward, a stunned Spike on her back, the precious gem in her aura. As she glides over the crowd below, I can hear somepony cry, “Behold! The Crystal Princess!”
Wait, Cadance is the what, now?
Her hooves hit the ground with a hard thud, right on top of the fake heart, smashing it to gravel. “The Crystal Heart has returned!” she proclaims in an urgent but controlled voice, raising the real, glowing artifact for all to see. “Use the light and love within you to ensure King Sombra does not!”
She tosses the Heart forward. I can’t see what happens now, since I don’t have a line of sight from the balcony to the underarch of the castle, but I assume the gem ends up right where it needs to be, because I hear the soft whine of magic activating – not to mention feel the electric charge in the air. Everywhere, broadly smiling ponies transform into their crystal selves at the sight; their coats turning from dull and drab into glowing, translucent, and faceted, smiling just like they were at Fluttershy’s finest moment. They kneel, facing the Heart, and the streets beneath them turn luminescent, a magical blue glow spreading from every pony’s hooves through to the entire snowflake-patterned road network.
“What? No!” Sombra growls from the summit of his lonely, now-stationary, crystal tower. “No! Stop!” he roars, impotent and frustrated. Having felt the same just a minute ago allows me to relish the sight all the more.
The crystal ponies pay him no heed. Every road in the Empire is glowing now.
Sombra may not know it yet, but I do, and so does everypony else: He’s already lost.
All at once, the magical energy spread across the Empire rushes back towards the castle; towards the Heart. There is an explosion of light below us. Applejack and Fluttershy are peering over the railing, trying to get a good look. They jump back as a wavefront of magical energy hits us all.
I want to say it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt, but that would be a lie. Having wielded the Elements of Harmony twice and having felt their magic wrap around me and through me, I can recognise this brand of magic as being the same. Not exactly the same, but close enough that I can already figure out what’s going to happen.
I have my wings – both of them – flared out in anticipation. One moment I’m doing all I can to hold back the pain in my left, and the next, I feel only soothing warmth and a static tingle. My wing is fine. Better than new. Shinier.
“Sparkleriffic,” as Pinkie might say.
I glance over to Rarity. She giggles, standing excitedly on one hoof as she admires her new crystal form. Her entire coat shimmers, and her mane and tail are done up in even fancier waves and curls than usual. This must be heaven for her. I’m going to need to get a mirror, but if the looks of her and my other friends are anything to go by, I have to be looking pretty awesome right now. I’m perfectly happy to have my wing back, but being turned into a crystal pony is a pretty sweet bonus.
I watch the wave of light shatter and wash away every dark crystal in its path, purifying the Empire. When it hits Sombra, he screams; whether in pain or just rage, I can’t tell. He shatters, too.
Okay, that’s something new.
Fluttershy squeaks pathetically at the sight, and Rarity turns away. I’m not exactly fond of ponies being blown to smithereens, but in this case, I’m making an exception. I nod in satisfaction as I watch pieces of the ex-unicorn blast away into parts unknown; the ominous mountain he had created sharing his fate.
Another surge of magic. The entire castle glows, and a further explosion – this one high above us, at the castle’s peak – thunders across the empire. What was left of Sombra’s black clouds vanish from the perimeter. Ribbons of airy pink, blue, and yellow magic snake out across the now-perfectly-blue sky, stretching from the spire out to beyond the horizon. They can probably see them all the way in Canterlot. It’s an aurora; Northern Lights. I never thought I’d get to see them in the daytime.
There are relieved sighs. There are high hooves all around. Cadance and Spike land on the balcony just as Pinkie and Applejack finish theirs. I notice that even Spike is crystal now. He didn’t get a new manestyle to go with it – understandable, since he doesn’t have a mane – but it’s a pretty good look for the little guy nonetheless.
Shining Armor wraps Cadance in a hug that momentarily lifts her off her hooves, then they both gaze over the citizens of the Crystal Empire. The dull, lifeless ponies we saw when we first arrived are gone; from below us come the cheerful shouts of ponies whose spirits are high and whose future is bright – and, for the first time in over a thousand years, truly their own. And it’s all thanks to Cadance and, in a twist I admit I didn’t see coming, Spike.
He’s the one who brought in the Crystal Heart at the crucial moment, and the joyful screams are his reward. I think he’s earned it.
And yet, I know that’s not the whole story. Twilight tasked me with keeping the crystal ponies hopeful and happy, without which the Heart would’ve been useless. And though I tried to inspire them with my awesomeness, in the end the greatest contribution was, without a doubt, Fluttershy’s astounding performance. When the spotlight fell on her, she delivered. I should feel jealous.
I don’t.
Yeah, it’s fair to say I’m pretty happy with how this turned out.
As we all take turns waving to the crowds below, I see Spike looking away, up to the top of the spire with worry. That must mean Twilight is up there. With my wings in prime condition, that won’t be a problem for long. I quickly prepare myself and lift off, tossing out some slick remark about being back in ten seconds flat.
As I fly, the ponies on the ground are still cheering. The sky is bright with not a cloud to be seen. The air is warm with the smells of summer, but not hot enough to be stifling. A refreshing wind whips through my mane, making me feel alive.
It’s the perfect day to be a hero.
But, hey. Once in a while, I’ve got to let somepony else have a turn, don’t I?
Author's Note
Pre-reading done by my good online ~~stalker~~ friend Journeyman, whose helpful comments about my writing I consistently ~~ignore~~ appreciate. He's recently written a bunch of ~~Halloween~~ Nightmare Night-themed stories, so go check him out.
