The Moon and the Harvest Spirit

I let go of the Dreamscape, allowing my mind to return to my essence. I knew quite precisely that meddling with the weather would draw the attention of Luna, and quite possibly Celestia. It mattered not, though.

This was an excellent chance to show Luna exactly what Power meant to the Spirits.

“Spirit, you know that meddling with the wea-” began Luna, flaring her wings to land.

“I know that my interference was not advisable. You are right to tell me that, and I do not doubt that Celestia will arrive soon enough. Quite honestly, I do not care,” the Spirit interrupted, drawing itself up to its full height.

This is what Celestia had been worried about, and Luna had a sinking feeling that the Spirit was not quite as kind as she thought. “Then why did you summon the storm?”

The Spirit chuckled, a rich sound echoing of thunder. “I am Harvest Storm, Luna. I feel it is my duty to care for the Children as best I can, and one close by was in need,” Harvest proclaimed, “The Apple Farmers were going to have a failed harvest. The trees were beginning to die, though all they knew was that they were not doing well. I cured their disease.”

Luna opened her mouth to speak, only to close it as she processed what the Spirit- Harvest Storm- had said. Pausing for a moment, she composed her thoughts. “The Apple Family? Then you have my thanks, for I owe the Apple family much.”

“Well, excellent. I suppose you are still annoyed that I interefered, though. I care not what you think on that matter, but I do have something to show you.”

Luna sighed. Harvest Storm was one of the Spirits, and the Spirits were the greatest powers in the world- some acted like it, and some did not. So few remained, but Harvest Storm could shake off the combined powers of Twilight, Celestia, and Discord- but only within the land Harvest Storm was bound to. Outside of that, Harvest would no longer be practically indestructible- it would be quite fragile, actually.

“What is it?”

“Look inside yourself. I gave you Power, but you have not yet seen what it can do. You have drawn magic from it, yes, but that is simple,” commanded Harvest, “Grasp the Shard in your mind, and let it show you the way.” The eye slots in Harvest Storm’s armor glowed green, and she swore that a green dragon was wearing the armor.

Luna closed her eyes, reaching for the Shard with her thoughts hesitantly. She expected it to resist, but the Shard clung to her tendril of thought as if it were coated in sap. A blink of an eye, and a floodgate was opened, a rush of energy flowing through her. Luna had been able to tap into the Shard’s reservoir of energy to lift the Moon, but now... it was simply there. It was not isolated, nor was it part of her, but her spells would draw upon it without conscious effort to do so.

“Spirits are bound to the world because we are the world, Luna. Though some of us chose to use our Power to act as gods, others have seen that the Mother wished for us to care for the Children. I am the Harvest and the Storm, and though it is weakened me I must fulfill my duties- I have not for over a thousand years,” explained Harvest, lightly amused for some strange reason.

If she had not already been overwhelmed by the Shard’s release of Power, Luna would have noted Harvest Storm’s amusement was yet another example of the alien nature of the Spirits, and exactly how ironic it was.

“Hmm. Celestia arrives,” observed Harvest, snapping Luna back to the world at large.

“Luna, thank goodness. Have you gained any ground with the Spirit?” asked Celestia, gliding in elegantly. In any normal situation, her presumption would have been correct.

“Celestia. It has been... oh, over a thousand years, and you look exactly the same. How strange. The rulers represent the nation, I suppose,” remarked Harvest Storm dryly, before adding, “And yes, I shall let the storm abate. But if someone brings me an offering, I will quite happily use its energy to do what I wish with the harvest.”

The rain cleared instantly, wicking away as if sucked in by a great breath. The air was left fresh and smelling of a spring thunderstorm.

Celestia let out a pent up breath. “That was easier than I expected.”

Luna finally became articulate. “Why’d... where did the storm go?”

“I released my hold on the weather. I have always liked you two, so I suppose I... hrm. I owed it to you? No. Moreso, I value your presence,” it murmured, contemplating, “Though I do not regret calling the storm.”

“Why did you call the storm?” asked Celestia.

“Luna knows,” replied Harvest.

“I... see.”

Harvest Storm sighed. “Let us save pleasantries for another day. I am tired, and Luna has much to contemplate.” With a stir of ancient thoughts, Harvest Storm traced their paths in the sky, and pushed them back through the paths to Canterlot.

I do not know why I dismissed them. I was not tired, nor was I bored. It was not fear... was it?

I cannot see what I would fear from them.