Arcane Shadow (Re-Written)

Spitfire watched hawkishly as everyone that could fit on the steel ring of the Aerie assembled before her and her Wonderbolts squadron, a megaphone sat next to her hoof, waiting to be used. Naturally, Lance was up front, being the head of the military and all, but Spitfire noticed he had been given a little more breathing room than normal, on top of a lack of a military uniform. At either side of him, albeit with some distance, were Natalie and Anna, who themselves were also out of uniform, and flanking them were Sarah and Maria. Not every gryphon could attend, of course, with some having to help the changeling nurses with their newest patients, while others like Blue Crow and his group couldn't attend because of pre-existing disabilities or having to tend to the ships in the hangars.

And speaking of disabilities, Spitfire was somewhat surprised to see the wraithling standing on a crate next to Sarah, her clawed shoes on her hooves and otherwise looking straight ahead. How Katie wasn't disabled enough for even this little outing, the Wonderbolts could only guess. Rainbow was looking skyward, grinning to herself—today was an overcast day, because apparently the ectoplasms decided they wanted to pay attention for once, and they were watching the Aerie hawkishly.

An overcast day was just right for this type of training. Spitfire cleared her throat, picked up the megaphone, and let her voice wash over the assembled soldiers. "Alright everybody! We're going to start with the basics for weather manipulation—spread your wings, those who have them, and take a deep breath to prepare yourselves, because this training is going to get grueling in the coming days!" Every Fantasian assembled heeded the command, taking in deep breaths and flaring out their wings. Spitfire quickly saw a few feathers from Lance barely grazing Anna and Natalie with his wings' spreading, overshadowing many if not most of the other soldiers through sheer size alone.

That told her straight away that he would be one tough customer to train in this particular department, and that he might need a few extra accommodations based on his wing size alone. She made mental notes, just in case she got a future Wonderbolts prospective whose own wings could rival Lance's in every department. "Everyone good?" she asked; at several nods, she allowed herself to firm up into the persona she used on newly-inducted Wonderbolts cadets. "Alright. We'll start with simple exercises—for those with wings, try to channel magic through them. For those… who don't have wings, try channeling it through your hooves and talons," she ordered.

Once more, all obeyed the command. Right away, however, Spitfire could see peculiarities arising already—Natalie was doing her magic through both hooves and wings, a blue aura pulsing across both feathers and legs as she did so. Then again, it made sense with the condition of her wings. Sarah was doing both too, but her gaze seemed unfocused, as though she were trying to decide which of her limbs to do this exercise with would be more convenient. Maria tried, and tried, but she couldn't get anywhere with her attempts. Spitfire frowned, and watched when Anna turned to her. "Try reaching inside of yourself mentally," Anna said gently. "Try to find that magical spark."

Maria nodded, and tried again with another deep breath. She closed her eyes in concentration, and tried to bring out her inner spark. Alas, she didn't yield results this time either. "Think on where you keep your special magic," Anna advised. "Think of your wings like a mobile pair of unicorn horns." The child nodded, but still had to take a moment just to figure it out first—and almost jumped out of formation as she felt her magic finally emerging from her wings. She snapped her eyes open and whirled around to see her wings glowing with a faint blue aura that almost, but not quite, matched her mane in color.

Spitfire spread a wing, and nudged Thunderlane in Maria's direction. Thunderlane nodded, and trotted over to approach her. "Is this normal?" Maria asked, flapping her wings and causing her mana to unfocus, which stopped them from glowing with her magical power. A faint chill came from her wings as the mana dissipated, Thunderlane noticed.

Thunderlane nodded. "Very normal. Just keep focused right now—focus on the feeling of your magic going across your wings. Get used to the feeling, because you're going to be doing this a lot very soon," he instructed. Maria nodded, turned to look back ahead, and focused once more, willing her magic to get to work for the first time in her life. "Is this your first time doing this?" he asked, garnering an immediate nod. He smiled, and trotted back to Spitfire to whisper his findings into her ear.

Spitfire nodded, and moved the megaphone away from her mouth to whisper back to him. "Keep an eye on her…" she ordered. Thunderlane nodded, and turned to watch Maria just in case she somehow had any magical mishaps. Fortunately for them, Maria didn't opt to do much else, trying her hardest to keep focused to get used to the feeling of the mana rippling on her wings.

Anna's magic rippled across her wood, but the wood unfurled around her hooves to let the magic pulse across those surfaces. Spitfire raised her brow at this, but opted to say nothing about it—after all, she knew Lance was a bit strange when he talked with her back at headquarters, and recognized he might have a penchant for the oddballs in the military he ran. In that assumption, she was glad she was right on the money. That, and as far as she knew, timberponies were scarce—and before, she'd have dismissed the notion as nonexistent. But seeing one in the flesh might have shaken up her worldview a little.

Then again, being a Wonderbolt meant one would have to get used to weird sights from time to time. Ever since Rainbow Dash got into the program, the weirdness had been gradually ratcheting up, and then spiked once the barrier broke. Redpine probably tipped the weirdness scales out of whack by now, and that wasn't counting Discord's modifications to their base. She shook the thoughts from her head, to focus on current matters. She checked on Katie right quick; her mana was pulsing across hooves and shoes, and there was a faint chill around her, but other than that, she did nothing.

Spitfire focused, to return her mind to current matters. "Alright. Now that we have established our magical hold… extend it to the air around you. Try to see if you can craft simple clouds from the water vapors around you," she ordered. The gryphons got it down pretty easily, constructing clouds in their claws that were solid to their touch, but otherwise light and gaseous. Lance… he struggled for a moment, and when a cloud formed into existence in front of him, it promptly lit on fire and puffed up in a curl of black smoke.

Spitfire blinked at what she saw. How in the fresh hell did Lance manage to set water on fire? She watched him carefully, and once more, as soon as a cloud came into existence in front of him, it went ablaze like a candle and died on the spot. His eyes narrowed at this, before he seemed to consider something. He sat down, lifted his hooves, and willed his magic to work that way before a cloud that didn't catch fire formed to dance at his frogs. He grinned at this, even as it spat a tiny bolt of lightning that caused flames to curl at his hooves, which once again, enveloped the cloud.

Spitfire nudged Soarin in that direction using her other wing. He approached, and felt heat washing over him. "Um… were you able to make heat before?" Soarin asked.

Lance nodded. "Never… got the hang of it," he affirmed with a sigh. "I generally only do this using magitek. It feels weird without it."

Soarin relaxed a little. "Focus on what a normal temperature feels like, and try using that," he advised. Lance did as he was told, and the heat that was emanating from him diminished somewhat. Another cloud formed in the General's hooves, and did not expel lightning to kill itself that way this time. Soarin grinned, and trotted back to Spitfire to report his findings.

"Makes sense, given where he came from… the ponies of Redpine probably mutated to do that," Spitfire whispered to Soarin. "We gotta watch him to prevent fire hazards." Her gaze went to the others to see how well they were faring.

Anna had a little more luck; all she had to do was lift her front legs and watch a cloud dance at their tips. She fluffed it up a little, and watched as it condensed into the shape of an arrow. Sarah decided on using her talons for the exercise, and grinned as a cloud formed at her clawtips, before she decided to squeeze it like a stress ball. It held easily enough, which looked promising. Natalie settled on her hooves as well, and made a tiny squee as she managed to conjure a little bitty thundercloud that was honestly cute to look at. It sparked and roiled at her hooves, and spat a tiny chunk of snow on her frog, but otherwise held.

Spitfire grinned at this development. It seemed some soldiers were further along in their weather training than others, and even better, not so much as a spark issued from Anna and Natalie's horns. Katie… she tried as well, and while a cloud did form at her hooves, it then turned into an ice ball and plonked on the crate she stood on. So she tried again, and made another, albeit without freezing it solid this time. It spat snow onto her shoes, and roiled adorably, but otherwise did nothing.

Maria channeled through her wings, and angled them around her to form a cloud in her claws. It held, and roiled, but did little else. Despite it, though, she was grinning as she grabbed the cloud, and began to play with it as any child would. She squished it like puddy, and upon realizing she could sculpt it, she proceeded to turn it into a cute little bunny rabbit that stood on its hind legs. The rabbit horked up a bit of snow from its ears, and tried to drift away before she grabbed it to keep it steady.

Good. Everyone present could keep a cloud more or less steady. Now onto the second part of training for their bizarre and unorthodox symphony. "Now… try to generate multiple clouds around you, using wings, hooves, and claws," Spitfire ordered. "If the clouds orbit around you, you're good; if ectoplasms rain from above to hijack them, feel free to punch them in the face. If your feathers… or manes start to frizz, punch the clouds that are discharging lightning, but aim the punch away from you and your fellows. If they turn to ice, just try again."

At once, everyone obeyed. The gryphons got it right off the bat, with a collection of clouds orbiting them in moments. Natalie decided she wanted to try juggling with her wings, and once she had enough clouds orbiting her, used said wings to bounce the clouds up in the air before they returned to orbiting her. Anna, thinking her comrade was showboating, decided to up her ante, doing a stand on her front hooves and using her hinds to juggle and conjure her clouds. She blew a raspberry in Natalie's direction for good measure, and Natalie just rolled her eyes in response.

Spitfire couldn't help but snicker at the sight, a motion that was echoed by Rainbow Dash. Sarah opted to not showboat, seeing the mane-measuring contest her sister had engaged in, and simply let her clouds orbit her as instructed. Maria had little snow clouds rolling around her after a few moments, a little longer than all the adults surrounding her, but she grinned and pronked in place at the development. "I can make weather, I can make weather!" she chirped, proud of herself for her accomplishment.

Spitfire watched Maria just a little more closely, to see if light was building on her flanks yet. No dice on that front, but she thought she did see a tiny shimmer in that area, unsure if it was from the snow she was generating via her clouds, or something else entirely. Katie opted for something unusual; she hovered in the air above her crate, all hooves outstretched, and she was just airborne in place, spinning on a gentle axis with her clouds. Seeing a changeling do such a maneuver confused the Wonderbolts, but they didn't comment on it, figuring that whatever helped the individual focus on this little exercise would help in the long run.

Lance managed a few thunderclouds, and they orbited him and crackled, but not enough to singe his feathers and mane, much less make them frizz up. He watched each one carefully as they drifted past his chest, seeing if any of them would need percussive maintenance. None of them did, but still he watched, in case something were to occur nonetheless. It was good that he was paying attention; Spitfire wasn't really sure of what to do if he hadn't.

"Now then, we move onto the next exercise: forming the clouds orbiting you into a singular entity. Grab them with your hooves and claws, squish them together, and once they are fully formed into one big cloud, punch the living daylights out of them," Spitfire ordered. Once more, everyone heeded the orders and her command also had the side-effect of halting Anna and Natalie's mane-measuring contest for just long enough for them to complete the first part of their new task.

Once a collection of larger clouds had been assembled before the soldiers, the punches went flying as cloud after cloud was dispatched. Lance reared up on his hind legs briefly, turned around with a flourish, and bucked using his rear hooves to land a solid hit on his cloud, which sparked and crackled with lightning and fire as it dissipated in a puff. Lingering static and embers crackled afterwards, which Lance blew away with a single flap of his wings, making sure to aim upwards to avoid sending anything into the eyes of their tutors.

Natalie more or less mimicked the motion, and hers spat ice and lightning before reverting back into thin air. Sarah opted to punch with her talons, and yielded a burst of wind for her efforts. Katie slashed, causing her cloud to freeze up into chunks to tinkle upon the ring of steel like glass. Anna made a little bit of rain, lightning, and frost with hers, but it harmlessly lingered in the air before it ceased crackling. Maria, trying to follow the cue of the adults, punched her cloud and then kicked it, but it did not dissipate like it normally would. Instead, it began to swell a little, crackling with frost and lightning as she hit it again and again.

Yet before any of the Wonderbolts could intervene, Maria landed a solid hit right in its kisser, causing it to shoot out a plume of lightning beyond the ring and arc down into the plains below, striking that spot with a deafening thunderclap that had everyone reeling. Spitfire turned to the strikepoint, and frowned as she beheld a small patch of fire that didn't spread beyond that spot. Yet still, the cloud lingered afterwards, and Maria punched it again, which weirdly caused icicles to form in its mass and drop down in front of her, shattering on impact. The cloud persisted yet, and she punched it once more to make it dissipate into a cold, harmless burst of wind that sailed outside of the training area.

"... huh, the kid's quite strong," Thunderlane noted, once the ringing in his ears had ceased. He noticed a fading twinge of light dimming from Maria's flank. "She can make icicles from clouds… not many pegasi can do that back home. We might need to pull her aside to train separately."

Lance broke from formation, but he went to Maria to check her over. "You good?" he asked.

"Air's ringing too much, daddy…" Maria whimpered, even though she wasn't clutching her ears for dear life.

Lance nodded and patted her on the head, though gently in case she had a budding headache. He was smiling faintly, though. "Eh, it happens with thunder and lightning if you're up too close and personal," he said with a shrug. "Happened to me a few times on airships, but I didn't punch any clouds like they owed me money, back then." He looked at her squarely. "Do you feel any different otherwise?"

Maria grinned, despite the ringing in her ears. She pronked in place again. "Does this mean I can do good weather, daddy?" she asked.

Lance nodded. "Not many can make icicles from clouds, except for frost wraiths," he answered, before lifting a hoof to gesture to her flank. "And not many can make lightning from those same clouds, either. Those are… mana-draining skills, so you should tone it down if you want to master them."

Maria frowned, before noticing where his hoof was pointing. She turned to her flank, and her eyes went wide as she beheld a thundercloud with three icicles and three lightning bolts sticking out of its mass in a six-point configuration, with the thunderbolts on top and the icicles on the bottom. She turned to Lance, her face beginning to shine like the sun. "I… I…" was all she could stammer as a million thoughts ran through her head.

Lance nodded, pride shining in his eyes. "Yes," he confirmed. "And we're gonna get you some cake to celebrate." He leaned down to nuzzle her head. "But after we finish our training for the day—you have a talent to master, after all."

Maria giggled, and reached up to hug Lance on the neck. "You're awesome, daddy," she said, causing the Wonderbolts to smile at the sight. He returned the hug and patted her back. Spitfire waited for them to break from their hug and for Lance to return to his former spot before resuming with the next exercise, albeit toned down to prevent any more lightning bolts from shooting out of whatever clouds they made.

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Matt and Fleetfoot watched Redpine as lunchtime rolled around, waiting for any signs of foul play. Every now and again, as they ate their food quietly, they looked to the ring surrounding the mountain, watching the weather training in progress. Nothing worthwhile was happening over at Redpine's house of sin, other than the grand and glorious leaders resuming their incessant bitchfit from the day prior. They had a tray each, and it housed separate foods so they could tell whose tray was whose. Matt's tray also had a drink next to it, further differentiating them.

Matt shook his head as he stuffed another piece of roasted bird leg into his mouth. He peeled the meat from the bone, and chewed thoughtfully as he watched the ongoing travesty as the map relayed it to him. Fleetfoot munched on a salad, shoveling another forkful into her gob. "So, that cute-ceañera… how extravagant are you gonna go on it?" she asked after swallowing her mouthful.

Matt shrugged. "We'll just leave the decor to Pinkie Pie, as well as the cake. We'll provide the rest of the food," he answered as he set the bone down onto a plate, solely to keep track of it. "Can't believe Maria fucking shot a lightning bolt out of a cloud, though."

"At her age?" Fleetfoot wore a ghost of a smile as she sent another forkful of salad down her gullet. As soon as it went down the hatch, she continued, "I wasn't expecting much either, but then again, cutie marks tend to manifest in weird ways…"

"I'll drink to that," Matt agreed with a nod. He chewed on another roasted bird leg, which might have weirded Fleetfoot out if she hadn't been briefed on the Fantasian ponies' meat-eating habits.

"So… Lance gets sick if he has too many greens?" Fleetfoot hedged. Matt nodded. Fleetfoot gestured to Redpine. "Do you think the volcano, having likely permeated the crops with sulfur, might've been responsible for that?"

Matt chewed on that thought as he stripped his second bird leg to the bone, then he seemed to do numbers in his head before nodding. "With what he told me, I wouldn't doubt it," he said once his morsel went down the hatch. He put the second bone onto the plate. "Granted, he's got Diomedis Defectus, but I'd still like to think that Redpine's shitty crops contributed to that a little bit."

Fleetfoot nodded, and ruffled her wings as she added another forkful to her gullet. The crunchiness of leafy greens, not to mention their freshness, calmed her down somewhat, even as she considered the possibility that Redpine might just relocate elsewhere—if they ever regained their brains anytime soon. Granted, the possibility wasn't very likely, with what sulfur-tainted crops and all the health ramifications of that, but one she couldn't easily dismiss just yet.

And now that she thought about it… wasn't Redpine's community succeptible to sexual ailments? The more she wondered, the more that possibility began to make sense. They had no nurses or doctors to speak of, even outside pre-assigned roles, and whatever wounds their pre-assigned happened to be treating seemed rudimentary at best—band-aid solutions for a problem that might as well have been relegated to 'internal organs outside of body.' They had no gauze, no disinfectants of liquid or magical varieties, no potions for quick healing—just bloodstained cloth and brute force.

And now that she peered closely at the enemy force… it seemed the problems they had ignored before were now bubbling to the forefront of the surface. The force was emaciating, little by little—they weren't even grazing on the rest of the island, and neither were their leaders, who were too busy griping at one another to think of any worthwhile solutions to their problems. Apparently, they hadn't activated the Illicit Instrumentation fast enough to prevent long-term brain damage.

As the nurse back at Wonderbolts HQ would have said, these ponies were suffering from a severe case of cranial rectosis. In fact, if this foalish behavior kept up on their end, the force might just keel over before they even made their move. If this was their grand master plan, it was a really bad one in the end, and the thought made Fleetfoot shake her head in sorrow and disgust. "Do you think they'll become wraiths?" she asked, after swallowing down another mouthful.

Matt mulled it over, even as he helped himself to a third bird leg. Fleetfoot began wondering what kind of poultry it was. "I mean, it's possible," he said after downing the morsel. "But not likely, considering the majority of ponies there are geased." He shrugged. "The great bozos, however? I wouldn't doubt it in the least."

The grand and glorious leaders of Redpine managed to stop arguing for once. Matt and Fleetfoot leaned in closer to the projection, watching the pair hawkishly. The two numbskulls glowered, but moved to a space on the island they called home, one with unblemished greenery. The flock went with them, and at once, they began to graze. "... they're gonna treat that island like a bunch of fucking locusts," Matt said, pulling back to help himself to a meat and bread sandwich. "I think they might actually resort to cannibalism."

Fleetfoot pulled back, to tend to her own food. "What makes you say that?" she asked.

Matt gestured to the continent Redpine sat on. "They all have functioning wings, and a force… thousands? Yeah, thousands strong. And the leaders are gonna get the lion's share of the food," he said. Already, the projection relayed the flock, its leaders shoving aside herdmates to get the best scraps of fauna they could grab. "There's only so much on that island they can get before we attack, and let's be real: not very nutritious in the long run, even if it's technically leagues better than the sulfur-slop they had before."

"And assuming they get the bright idea to move elsewhere, they have to start over from scratch—not many working magitek finds like what they had are abundant on Fantasia, especially of formerly functioning bases. All they have are geases and magic; take that away, they have fuck all," Matt added, pausing to munch on his sandwich. "Furthermore: if they're resorting to grazing now… what's it gonna take for them to leave the damn island?"

Fleetfoot slowly nodded as she picked up a spoonful of seasoned chickpeas. "Seems irrational to me," she said after swallowing. "It's almost like they're scared of change."

Matt nodded. "Lance always said his shitty folks were stubborn," he said, pausing for another mouthful of food. "But I have seen this stubbornness before, the kind that damns you instead of saving you." He stood up, angled his body slightly, and gestured to his cutie mark. "Last case I ran into helped me get this in the end."

"And lemme guess, you killed the pony responsible?" Fleetfoot hedged.

Matt nodded. "Not directly, it was a magic surge… still got him in the end either way," he answered, sitting back down to enjoy his food. He paused to sip at his drink, which had the color of tea. "Have you tried Anna's tea? She makes a killing at making it."

Fleetfoot shook her head. "No, I haven't tried any. What kind is it?"

"She says it's from a plant called refreshing vermillion," Matt answered, lighting his horn to conjure a jug's worth of the tea in question, as well as a drinking glass. He poured Fleetfoot some, and put the cup into her hoof. "It's supposed to relax your muscles a little, help you get a good night's sleep and all that. We have the plant in our slime ranch, and she swears by this stuff in the mornings, when she has nightmares and can't sleep."

Fleetfoot nodded. "Does she sweeten it?"

"With standard sugar, harvested from canes grown in the slime ranch," Matt replied, setting the pitcher down on the table. Fleetfoot bit the bullet and took a sip, and the tea was unlike most teas she had in Equestria. It had a calming effect, one that spread throughout her body and soothed some of her aches and worries. It had an earthy, herbal taste, heightened by an aroma that reminded her of freshly grown berries. It was also fairly sweet, though the sugar used had a bit of a sour aftertaste—it was probably from whatever type of cane the Fantasians harvested it from. All in all, it was pleasant, but she wouldn't drink too much in one sitting.

Still, she did the respectful thing and took a few sips of refreshing vermillion every other bite. Better to finish the glass, than to be rude. She watched Redpine's flock, bereft of weapons, home, and food, reduced to scrounging from the land like pitiful worms. Her gaze flicked back to the volcano itself, and its interior, and she noticed that the base was sagging just a little bit more. Give or take a few more days, and it probably wouldn't hold up much longer at all. As they contemplated this fact, the pair of ponies finished up the remnants of their meals, and stacked the trays and plate nice and tidy for easy transportation at a later time.

It almost felt like a waiting game, waiting for that last domino to topple over. Yet she had a feeling, a niggling feeling in her gut that the matter would not end even if the volcano erupted before they could get there. The signs were there, announcing loud and clear to anyone paying attention in that moment that something was wrong. She couldn't say what exactly was nudging her to the rather solemn conclusion—Spitfire's zany idea, the place they were planning to enact said zany idea upon, the million and one things wrong with Redpine, or the state of everything that had led to this point.

Matt seemed to sense Fleetfoot's brooding thoughts. "I know—fucked up, isn't it?"

Fleetfood nodded. "After everything else I heard about, this… this seems tame in comparison," she said. "I don't know what's worse."

Matt didn't make a motion to disagree with the notion. He took another sip of refreshing vermillion. "Truth be told, I don't know what's worse either," he said, watching the projection intently. He downed the rest of his glass and poured himself another round from the pitcher as Fleetfoot finished her drink. "Want some more?"

"I can see why Anna swears by it, but I'll pass this time," Fleetfoot said. Matt nodded, and made the pitcher vanish back into the ether before nursing his second drink. "So, does Maria have any preference for a party?"

Matt shrugged. "This'll be her first one, thrown specifically for her… I couldn't tell you," he answered. "We did tell her to let Pinkie know what she likes, but as far as we know, she's letting her have free reign."

Fleetfoot's brow furrowed a little. "... you guys really aren't big on celebrations, are you?" she hedged.

Matt shook his head. "Afraid not," he said. "There's… not a whole lot worth celebrating on Fantasia." He sighed and took another sip of tea. "No history, no holidays, and technically two anniversaries that… aren't really joyful when reminiscing about them. The closest things we got to happy occasions were the Sundering of the Void, and Godcat's Folly."

"Those anniversaries being…?" Fleetfoot pressed.

"The Royale Catastrophe, and the Last Eve of Attrition," Matt replied solemnly. "Innumerable lives lost during both, all because of the selfish desires of other asshats."

"And what about the Sundering of the Void and Godcat's Folly?" Fleetfoot asked.

Matt wilted a little. "Basically, the Sundering was when we killed one of Godcat's runaway creations. After we woke him up. Her Folly is when we went to confront Her, and bested Her in combat." He downed his drink and stood up. "I think our lunch break is over."

Fleetfoot stood as well. "I'll report my findings to Spitfire," she said. Matt nodded, and made the plate, trays, utensils and cups vanish. With that, they moved to walk out of the door, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong—horribly, horribly wrong.