The Legend of Shimmerstrike

I didn’t remember it being that cold. We were nearing the Crystal Empire.

The carriage wheels creaked and bumped over rocks that lay in the path we traveled. I bounced off the wall of the carriage with every bump. This is what woke me.

I groaned and rubbed my eyes and assessed the situation. Small beams of sunlight seeped in through cracks in the wooden roof. My mouth was blocked by a ball of cloth held in it by a blindfold and my wings were bound by the mass of rope tied around my midsection. I felt a familiar crispiness on my forehead: dried blood. Then there was a pungent stench that nearly made me choke on the cloth.

Stallions. I hated stallions.

A deep chuckle broke the silence. “Well, well, brothers. The murderess is finally awake.” A few other stallions began laughing. “So tell me, killer. How did they finally catch the Hoofington Ripper?”

How had I been caught? I killed the mark and fled the city, no complications. Had somepony followed me?

No. That’s not possible. I’m never followed.

My silence must have annoyed the stallion. “I asked you a question, mule. Did you not hear me?”

I didn’t speak. I just slid the gag down with my tongue, spit out the cloth, and laughed at him.

“Laugh all you want,” he said. “You won’t be when your head’s rolling on the ground. That’s right. We’re going to the Headspony.”

“Is that supposed to frighten me?” I said. “I think I’ve earned it.”

“No, you’ve earned eternal damnation at the hooves of Celestia herself.”

I snorted. “Your Divines can sit on each other’s horns. They sit by and watch while their loyal subjects are killed in cold blood.”

“By ponies like you.”

I smiled. “Yet you still put faith in your false Goddesses. Sheep.”

The stallion rushed toward me and slammed his forehead to mine. My head bounced off of the carriage wall. “Ah…”

“Nopony insults the Divines in my presence. I’ve half a mind to tear your head from your shoulders for all you’ve done.”

His breath smelled like he hadn’t cleaned his teeth in his life. The stink almost made me gag from where he was sitting. It took everything I had not to puke on him then.

“Very well, then. Do make sure it hurts, will you?”

He paused. “What is wrong with you?” I just stared him down with a psychotic grin plastered on my face.

It was a few more hours before we reached our destination. I didn’t hear so much as a peep from my chatty friend. The others were sharing their stories of how they were caught. We had the whole lot here. Mostly thieves, a murderer in addition to myself, and even a rapist.

There’s nothing I hate more than a rapist.

The carriage stopped and I heard hoofsteps on both sides. The hatch of the carriage was thrown open, revealing two armored Zebras. They led us out of the carriage single file.

I was behind the rapist and I really wanted to do this.

He jumped down and started walking with the others. I jumped from the carriage to his back, threw my hooves around his neck and started biting at whatever I could. An ear. His cheek. I might have even gotten his eye. I saw that he only had one ear.

The Zebras ripped me off of the rapist and beat me into the ground, then shoved me back in line a few ponies down from him. I definitely had a broken rib or two but it was worth it.

We were marched through the small town they had brought us to. Those ponies knew who I was. Every time we neared a foal, the parent would hide it from my sight. Cold gusts of wind bit at my face, sending a shiver through my body. We were marching to our death—I knew it—but I kept my composure. The same can’t be said of a few of the ponies behind me. They blubbered like foals through their gags. Equestria wouldn’t miss these cowards.

The nine of us were lined up in the town square: myself, four Earth ponies, a Unicorn, two Pegasi, and the pony on the end. A magnificent horn jutted from his brow and he sported rope around his midsection, as I did, over his regal coat that was pulled tight over his bulky frame. He also wore the same accepting expression as me. He didn’t fear death but embraced his fate.

A Zebra stallion clad in ornate silver armor stepped forward with a Unicorn mare at his side. The commander raised his hoof and silenced the murmuring crowd. The Unicorn levitated the scroll to his face and he cleared his throat.

“Rockshatter of Ponyville. Step forward.” His bass voiced echoed throughout the silent town. Rockshatter was the chatty stallion from my carriage ride. He stepped forward, trembling with tears in his eyes. Now, this here was a brave stallion. “You were apprehended on Royal Grounds in possession of a sacred artifact. What say you in your defense?”

Rockshatter broke. “No, please! I don’t want to die!”

“Calm yourself.” said the commander. Rockshatter bolted for the open town gate. “Archers!”

“You’re not gonna kill me!” Rockshatter cried, hysterical with fear.

The archers filled him with arrows and he was dead before he hit the ground. The townsponies cheered and stomped at the thief’s demise.

“Order!” They quickly settled at his commanding voice. He looked back to his scroll. “Shimmerstrike of Canterlot. Step forward.” I stepped forward. “You have terrorized the citizens of Equestria as the Hoofington Ripper and have been found guilty of eighty-seven counts of murder, twelve of your victims being foals. What say you in your defense?”

I closed my eyes and inhaled. The world slowed to a crawl and I listened to the air passing through me and recited the third Tenet in my head. Never betray the Dark Brotherhood or its secrets. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. I opened my crimson eyes and stared at the commander for a moment.

“I await the Dread Father’s loving embrace in the Void.”

My stoic tone must have caught everypony off guard after Rockshatter’s dramatic display. They’d never get such a show from me.

The commander nodded. “Very well. May Celestia rip the blackened soul from your body and banish it forever to the depths of Tartarus for your sins.”

I kept my expression. I was guided to a wooden block at the foot of a minotaur wielding a crude axe. He wore a cowl obscuring all but his eyes and the coarse beard that sprouted from beneath it. I knelt and placed my neck in the groove of the block with a content smile on my face. I’d served Sithis all my life and would do so until my dying breath.

It was finally here.

“Justice for the foal-killer!” A small red stallion stepped out of the crowd. “Have this monster’s head on a spike. I’ll parade it across Equestria myself.” He trotted over to the chopping block and looked down at me. “This nightmare of yours is finally over.” I lowered my head as he spit down into my mane. A guard dragged him back to the cheering crowd.

I looked at the line of ponies that would soon share my fate. Then I saw the Alicorn lower his gag and inhale.

“No!” the commander yelled. Now I know why he was gagged.

His voice rumbled out, resonating on the mountains. He spoke in an unfamiliar tongue and his voice caused the pebbles on the ground to jump.

“Stop him!” The soldiers drew swords and charged at him.

He finished his incantation and his voice knocked them to the ground. A powerful gust of wind blasted my mane straight back.

The minotaur fell on his back and I sprang onto his chest and sank my teeth into his throat. There was snapping and popping as my blunt teeth tore through his muscular neck. My face was buried in muscle before I hit the windpipe. His massive hand clamped down on my back and slammed me to the cobblestone, aggravating the broken ribs I had. The minotaur thrashed about, slowing as more blood rushed out, then finally went limp.

I struggled to my hooves, trying to catch the breath that was knocked out of me. Black clouds blotted out the setting sun and a torrent of rain fell from the sky. Lightning forked down and struck the Alicorn. The electricity danced around his body and he fanned out his impressive wings, shredding the rope that bound them. He slowly started to rise, speaking another incantation in a guttural voice. The archers fired volley after volley, only to hit a grey barrier conjured by the Alicorn.

I looked around for an escape. That’s when I saw the red stallion; the bastard that had spit on me. He was hiding under an overturned carriage and looking up to the sky.

Kill him, a raspy mass whispered in my ear.

I rushed to him and bit his mane and pulled him out. He didn’t react quickly enough. I slammed my hooves to his throat and began to suffocate him. He thrashed and kicked, pummeling me in the face. I lowered my head past his hooves and bit down on his ear. Grinding my teeth, I severed it from his head and spit it on the ground. A scream tried to escape his throat but my hooves wouldn’t let it pass. He stopped thrashing and his wide eyes went still.

The rain came down harder. Lightning struck down all around, threatening to end anypony stupid enough to stay out here. I left the stallion in the mud and ran into the nearest building.

The door led into the guard’s barracks. Empty beds filled half the room. Ahead, I saw the silhouette of a stallion looking at the choices on a weapon rack. After some rifling, he grabbed on an old sword and swung it for good measure. “Excellent,” he whispered and moved on.

I slid up to the table next to the rack. On it were two hooves of playing cards—one of the ponies had cheated—and a bag of bits and a gift from the Dread Father. A bloody dagger was stabbed into the table and small tufts of tan fur was on its blade. I clamped down with my teeth and pulled it out of the wood.

I stuck to the shadows and stalked the pony who was frequently turning around to look over his shoulder. We came to a locked door. He shook it a few times then tried ramming it open with his shoulder. It didn’t budge.

I pounced on his back and put my blade to his throat. He gasped and froze.

“Don’t move,” I whispered in his ear. I felt the dagger move down, then back up when he swallowed. “I ask a simple favor of you. I’ll give your life in return for it.”

“I promise nothing.” He was afraid. Ponies are easier to persuade when they are afraid.

I jumped over his head and landed in front of him. “Cut my bindings and release my wings.”

“What’s to stop you from sticking that blade in my back the second I do?”

“I offered your life in return and I will take it if you refuse.”

“Ha! Do you think it so easy? I won’t let you kill me.”

“You won’t be able to stop me.”

His eyes went wide and he swung his sword in an upward arc. I pirouetted, spinning nearly out of range. The ropes loosened and I unfurled my wings, tearing the remaining threads that held the rope together and sent my bindings to the floor.

I charged at him. We both soared through the air and crashed into the wall. I fell to the floor. He didn’t. The blunt hooks of the shield rack speared him and he was hung on the wall. He squirmed and held onto the spikes that held him up. “You… bastard,” he said, coughing as blood trickled from his mouth and wounds.

I flew up, inches from his face and look him dead in the eyes. “I offered you mercy.” I placed the tip of the dagger gently on his side, gently running it across his coat and eyeing him the entire time. “Now you will beg for it before the Dread Father.”

He gasped as I plunged the blade into his side and carved a crude and deep smile across his stomach. There was a splashing sound as his entrails spilled to the stone floor below. He emptied his lungs and went limp. He’d make a nice trophy on the wall.

I went back to the locked door. Its lock was of strong make but I’m always prepared for such. I flicked my tail, listening for the faint ping I’d grown accustomed to catching. The lock pick fell to the floor with the ping I’d waited for and I snatched it up. Peering into the hole, I was able to spot four tumblers. Very strong make. I tapped them into place with the pick then inserted the tip of my dagger in at an angle and applied torque. The lock rotated and the door opened ever so slightly.

Success!

I lifted up on the door as I opened it to keep it from squeaking and peered inside. Two soldiers—a Zebra mare and a Unicorn stallion—sat at a table. Both wore the same armor as the soldiers outside. They joked and laughed and took long pulls from their mugs.

They’d were sitting across from one another and the Zebra mare would surely spot me before I could sneak past. There was another ceramic mug on the floor next to me. Just the diversion I need. I picked it up and launched it at the far wall behind them. It shattered with a thick crash that snapped the soldiers out of their revel.

“Agh! What was that?” The stallion looked around and spotted the mug. “Clean that up, Private!”

“It wasn’t I who broke the mug, sir,” the mare replied. She had an exotic accent like most of the Zebras I’d met. “Here is mine.” She lifted her mug before her officer and drained it.

“Right,” he said, “I suppose it was the Hoofington Ripper then.” They both laughed for a few seconds then the officer’s expression straightened and he pointed a hoof at the shattered mug.

“Yes, sir!” The mare jumped up and went to sweep up the bits of broken mug.

With her back turned to her officer.

I bolted forward and drove my dagger into the back of his neck. He coughed and went limp. I caught him before he slammed down to the table and laid him down gently. The Zebra swept up the mug and put the pieces into a basket near the door. I dove into the shadows and waited.

I wanted her to see.

At first she laughed. “Ponies. Cannot handle your drinks ever,” she said.

Fear spread across her face when she saw the blood dripping from his back and she began to hyperventilate. She looked back to draw her sword and, a second later, she was face to face with the Hoofington Ripper. With a grin, I slashed her throat, showering my face with droplets of blood. The mare winced and stumbled forward. She pressed the tip of her sword to my chest but couldn’t find the strength to pierce my barding. She fell to the floor with a clank and I stepped over her lifeless body and continued forward.

I could hear the storm, even through the stonework. I was a decent ways underground by then and was descending deeper by the second. The only light this far down came from the mounted torches burning on the walls.

Then, the screams of a stallion echoed down the hall, coming from a room at the end. It was dimly lit but would erupt in a flash of white light just before each scream.

I couldn’t resist peeking in. I must know what is causing this pony so much pain.

A giant of a stallion stood over a squirming body on the floor. A primitive, blood-covered hammer was in his mouth. The other standing pony was a Unicorn mare, electric blue with a frazzled white mane.

“I’ll ask you again,” she said to the body on the floor. “What is Stormcrow doing this far north?”

He laughed through his pain. “I’ll,” he coughed, “I’ll die before I betray him. We don’t need to fear you Legion tyrants anymore. The true Divine is come!”

“So be it,” said the mare.

The giant stepped over to the wall, revealing the prisoner. His eyes were puffy from crying and mucous ran from his nostrils. All four of his legs were smashed flat and bits of bone peeked from the flesh.

The room lit up and the stallion screamed once more. A narrow stream of electricity shot forth from the Unicorn’s horn and pinned the stallion to the ground. The mare cried out in exertion and the stream grew larger and brighter. The stallion slowly began to melt. Then his eyes popped.

How wonderful! I thought.

My joy was cut short when I scanned the room. It was dimly lit, but there wasn’t a patch of shadow to be found and all that was in the room was a lone cage. These two had to die. I couldn’t risk being spotted or bumping into them before I got out.

The giant was closest and his back was turned to me. I pounced on him and thrust my dagger, severing his brain stem. He twitched and started to tip over. I pushed off of him, and readied another thrust for the mare.

When I turned to face her, my world lit up and my muscles contracted. I fell to the floor and groaned. I got back up with my dagger in hoof, inching toward her. Then I felt myself being lifted off the ground and about six feet in the air. She slammed me to the stone floor, trying to knock the dagger from my grip. When I didn’t release it, I was slammed again. And again…

I don’t recall how many times I hit the floor but I couldn’t hold my blade forever. It slid across the floor and tapped the wall. She released me and I crawled toward it, unable to breath. The mare’s horn lit up and then I was unable to move. It was like the lightning, only I felt no pain. I tipped over and was lifted again, this time to the cage. She threw me in—not gently, might I add—and locked the door.

She smiled in at me. “Rest yourself, pony. We’ll have some fun tomorrow.” I said nothing and she left me for the night. My body loosened about a minute later.

I had been captured yet again.

The Dread Father will not be pleased.

* * *

Unfortunately, the dungeon mistress’s giant associate didn’t make it. She carried out my punishment alone. It didn’t seem to bother her at all.

The guards made sure everypony and their mother knew that the Hoofington Ripper had been captured. In the few days of the carriage ride they had put a sketch of me in the papers that were delivered all over Equestria. I think it was one of the best selling issues in Equestrian history.

My first day of torture was nothing short of ironic. With the majority of my victims, I would skin their bodies after I killed them. It was my calling card, the one thing that separated the Hoofington Ripper from your run-of-the-mill murderer. I had honestly murdered much more than eighty-seven ponies. That’s just the number of ponies I’d skinned and this was my punishment.

She used a knife with a thin curved blade, generally used for surgery, and slowly hacked the coat from my body. Painful as it was, I couldn’t help but laugh at her inexperience. She cut small chunks from my coat. Amateurs. I could skin a pony in a five minutes flat and have the entire hide in one piece.

“Ha! You cut like a foal. Perhaps you’d like some pointers?” Then I burst into a fit of psychotic laughter which I’ll attribute to the immense pain I was in.

She paid no mind. I was strapped to the wall, and she was the pony with the knife. Why was I laughing so hard?

She began with my cutie mark: a single blood-hoofprint on each flank. Next, she stripped my legs, then my torso. She cut with precision at my throat. We couldn’t have me being killed by a poor cut now, could we? When she neared my eyes she feigned mistake and skewered my right eye with the blade.

“Whoops…”

I went into shock after the first few minutes, but I thrashed about anyway, more from the idea of what was happening than the pain I didn’t feel.

She took nearly two hours to finish. There must have been magic keeping me alive. As long as she’d taken, I should have bled out before she even finished my legs. I drew sharp breaths, hoping that each one would be my last.

Then came the worst part. Her horn glowed a soothing green and I felt skin stretch over my body. The vision in my skewered eye returned and soon I felt no pain.

She hit me with the Paralysis spell again and I was thrown back into my cage. My tormentor stepped up to the bars, looking down in amusement at my petrified body. “Rest yourself, Ripper. It only gets worse.”

She was gone when the spell wore off. I was so very thirsty. She left a small bowl of water for me. It’s the least she could have done. She did skin me, after all. I sipped the water, swishing it around in my mouth before swallowing it. It didn’t quench my thirst but it was better than gulping it down. It tasted surprisingly good.

I curled up in the smelly hay and laid my head on my hooves and tried to sleep.

* * *

Day two was different.

Instead of cutting my hide off, my tormentor, Shockwave, opted to burn me with fire and lightning. Torture must have been her special talent; she always brought me back from the brink of death. The Restoration magic was so much worse. I wanted to die but I suppose I deserved this. I am an evil pony.

She recognized the insignia that was my cutie mark. It was the mark of the Dark Brotherhood. She decided to coerce information from me. Oh, if only she knew how valuable my secrets were. Each time she asked a question, I would recite the third Tenet in a calm tone.

“Never betray the Dark Brotherhood or its secrets. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis.”

Each time, she would bare her teeth and lash out at me. She seemed fond of stabbing me with the surgical knife.

“I’ll have your secrets, foal-killer!” she said and plunged the knife into my gut.

I yelped, but grinned through the agony. “Your determination is admirable but you may as well try to wrench these secrets from Sithis himself.” I felt my warm blood running down my leg and could hear the soft plink of each drop as it hit the floor. I glared at her. “I’ll never betray my family. I’ll endure a thousand years of your torture to keep them from you.”

That really set her off. She was not a patient pony. She yanked the knife out and stabbed me several times, grunting with each thrust. I only felt the first few. I could feel intense warmth as blood hemorrhaged from my body but then I grew cold. She walked away, fuming. Was she finally going to let me die? The corners of my mouth turned up and I tried to.

Then the wretched green light enveloped me and I was healthy again.

“Oh no, Shimmerstrike. You’re not allowed to die just yet. I’ll have your secrets, be it now or ten years from today.”

“Never betr…” She slit my throat and let me bleed for a few moments before healing me.

She stood up, pressing her hooves to my chest and glared into my eyes. I gazed back, expressionless.

“Don’t think for a second that your secrets are keeping you alive.” She must not have noticed how many times I’ve tried to die in the short time we’ve been together. “You took my husband from me. I’d much rather torture you until your minds breaks than simply kill you.” She pressed a hoof to my throat. “Your victims deserve justice and I’m going to give it to them.”

I felt no pangs of guilt. Instead, I smiled, curled my tongue in my mouth, and spat in the mare’s face. I wanted her to kill me. Maybe this would push her far enough. She fell back to the floor and wiped the thick, bloody saliva from her face.

I laughed as she got up and went to a large wooden chest and began rifling through it. My laughing stopped when she turned to reveal a mouthful of nails.

Uh-oh.

One by one, she telekinetically blasted a nail into each of my legs and into the wooden wall behind me. One went straight through the bone with a crunch. The others glanced, sending sharp pains throughout my entire body. Once I was nailed to the wall, she undid my restraints. My weight caused the nails to tear slightly into my legs.

“One of my favorites,” she said. “Beg your Dread Father to take you by morning. I’ve no further use for you.” She left me up on the wall.

I waited an agonizing hour, just to make sure she was gone. The holes in three of my legs were ripped wider by my weight.

I needed them larger. I began to thrash about until I was sure they were large enough. My wings shot back and I fell to the floor with a wet thud. She hadn’t mopped up my blood and it splashed in every direction. It was thick, almost like tree sap. The leg that had been properly nailed was twisted and grotesque. The nail had snapped the bone when I fell. I couldn’t stand, so I crawled, relieving some of my weight by flapping my wings.

She must keep a healing potion here somewhere.

I went to the chest she pulled the nails from and dug through it. Strapped to the underside of the lid was an elegant red bottle. Red potions were generally for healing and the quality of the bottle suggested a powerful potion. I drank it. The holes in my legs closed. My broken leg magically set and I watched as the bones grew together and skin stretched over the open wound. Soon I felt no pain but I was so terribly thirsty. I could tell by the consistency of the pool of blood that I was dehydrated.

If I went back the way I came, there may be more guards. I went down the same passage Shockwave went every night. The torches on the wall weren’t lit so I slumped against the wall like a rat and made my way down the hall.

After a few turns I saw a faint light flickering from a doorway. I peeked in and saw the electric blue mare asleep on her bed. I looked around for a weapon and spotted a brick on the floor. Brick in hoof, I crept up to her bed and nudged her gently. Her eyes fluttered then shot wide when she saw her intact captive standing over her. I wished I could have savored the moment but I’d had wound up on wall again if I did. She gasped and I slammed the brick to her horn with all my strength. It split and she screamed in agony.

We couldn’t have that. I clamped my jaws to her throat, cutting her cries off. The more she struggled, the tighter I bit, and she suffocated. I pulled her off the bed and stomped her head until it was a pile of mush. I didn’t want her following me because she turned out to only be unconscious.

The pony-made architecture soon gave way to natural caverns. Glowing fungi clung to the walls and bathed the vicinity in a cool green glow. The air smelled fresh. It was instantly noticeable compared to Shockwave’s dungeon, which smelled only of death.

Sithis was with me this night.

A thin stream of crystal clear water flowed through an eroded crevasse in the cave floor. I beamed and rushed to it and placed my lips to the frosty water, breathing through my nose as I drank my fill.

I wiped the excess water from my muzzle and continued through the cavern. There were lumpy tan mushrooms growing along the base of the wall. I sent a silent prayer to the Dread Father and knelt down to examine them.

They are called Cairn Bolete and are commonly used as a base ingredient of healing potions due to their abundance. A single mushroom wouldn’t heal much but there were many here. I could curb my hunger and heal my body all at once.

I bit the caps from the stalks—the latter being a brain-damaging narcotic—and slowly chewed. They tasted very earthy. Perhaps that was from the mud caked underneath the caps. I ate until I was nearly full. A full stomach would be a hindrance should I need to do battle. I rested against the wall and gave the mushrooms time to heal my body.

The stream widened and spilled off a ledge at the end of the tunnel. The mouth overlooked another room. A natural rock bridge extended from one passage to another. I’m sure one of them led to the passage on my right.

The room wasn’t deserted, however.

A large furry equine-shaped creature was devouring its latest catch: a Legion pony. Its jaws crunched down on bone and pulled meat from the carcass in sick snaps. Large claws pinned the corpse to the floor while massive fangs stripped the meat. Its guttural growl echoed through the cavern.

It was a Werepony.

Wereponies are creatures to be feared and respected—especially the former. Engaging one in battle would certainly be the death of any one pony. This one was feral. A sane Werepony is much more disciplined and its senses are more heightened.

I wasn’t in the mood to die anymore so I decided to sneak past it. It looked as if the Werepony was guarding the end of the passage to my right, just waiting for some clueless pony to walk into a painful and bloody demise.

Fear clouded my senses. I am a very agile pony and can avoid being detected if I wished but I kept seeing flashes of what would happen if I was caught and this made me not scared, but nervous. I shot forward toward the passage, and prayed to Sithis that I’d go unnoticed. He obliged and I landed without so much as a faint clop. I hunched low and continued toward what I hoped was the exit.

The passage led to another room with a stream—it was probably the same stream I had drank from. A short bridge extended over the water and there was an overturned merchant wagon. I flew to it and searched its contents. No blades, but there was an old bow and a quiver of arrows.

All Dark Brothers and Sisters are familiar with all weapons of stealth, and the bow is no exception. I personally prefer to hear my victims’ dying breath but one can’t always get close enough for a dagger strike.

I nocked an arrow and drew the bow, testing the resistance. It drew back without a fight and likely wouldn’t even pierce leather armor, but I am not experienced in hoof-to-hoof combat so the shoddy bow was better than nothing.

I saw sunshine blasting into the cave. I’d done it! I’d escaped execution and would continue my rampage. The mouth of the cave gave way to beautiful northern Equestria. I was close enough to the Crystal Empire to experience its intense chill but not its snow. Behind me and over the mountain range, pillars of smoke shot toward the sky from the site of my execution.

I looked down the path before me. It wasn’t made for carriages, but for hoof traffic and its overgrown state said that it hadn’t been used in some time. Bunnies raced back and forth across the path, careless to the dangers around them.

The air grew cooler as I neared the river. It flowed fast and strong and groups of rocks peeked from the water’s surface forming earthen maws that littered the river. Large fish leapt from the water in schools, making their way upstream.

On the water’s edge was a sheltered monument. Under the stone roof was a statue of a figure I knew. It showed an Alicorn mare wearing an odd-looking hat. Her mane hung down over her shoulder and was tied near the end. Her visage radiated determination. There was a plaque at the base of the statue.

Overpower those of hostility and dishonesty with the strength of Applejack.

I put a hoof to the statue and felt it stir. Green glyphs lit up across my body and I felt a surge of physical strength. I felt like I could wrestle that Werepony to the ground and pop its head under my hoof.

For some reason, something told me that everything was certainly fine.