All was in its natural state in the frozen north. Frigid cold gripped the tundra and snow-buried hills. The great mountains of the far north clawed up into the arctic sky. And in within the confines of the Crystal Empire’s love-fueled climate shield, everything was bright, warm and vibrant. Inside the artificial dome of warmth, ponies went about the wide variety of their end-of-the-day activities. The Crystal Marketplace was quieting down, the guard were transitioning over to night shifts, and many ponies were either on their way home or already in their homes getting ready for dinner. It was just as the Crystal Empire always was meant to be, peaceful yet lively.
As the Moon was replacing the Sun in the sky, places being exchanged by a pair of sisters thousands of miles away, the aurora began to show. Streamers and curtains of translucent colour gradually came to life in the night sky far, far above, all from a focal point the Crystal Palace stood directly beneath. The Norther Lights stretched out across the night, waving beneath the stars. They reached down into the norther skies of Equestria more often than not, and on some of the most joyous of evenings in the Crystal Empire, their glow could even be seen at the edge of the horizon as far south as Canterlot and Ponyville.
Tonight was not one of those nights, though. It was just normal. Everything was normal. Not to say that was a bad thing, but rather there was nothing out of the ordinary, good or bad, for the Empire and its surrounding arctic region. The day drifted away, the night took over, and anypony anywhere outside could gaze upward and see the whole grand display overhead through the still, clear ever-winter skies.
It allowed anypony looking up to see, both what was . . . what abruptly happened next.
All of the sudden, from somewhere out to the west a great, flaring beam of magic tore across the sky. Pale greens and blues dominated its colour scheme, flickering and jostling about along the length of it as it blasted through the night. A sound came with it, something like ripping fabric, only deepened, and obviously at a much more thundering volume.
What quickly instilled more shock than the sight of it itself, was what it did. This streaking blast magic tore across the night overhead . . . and it pierced the aurora. One by one it cut through every flowing ribbon of light in its path, causing each to cascade into bleeding shades of red as they broke apart and dissipated.
The effects on the crystal ponies below were immediate. Love and warmth mutated into fear and dread at the sight above them. Even those inside felt something just alike, for the aurora ultimately was the product of the Crystal Heart, and its influence was far more than just climate-altering. Those inside quickly ran out of their shops and their home, all looking upward to witness the streaking beam of magical energy as it continued to tear through the night.
The beam, whatever it was, only lasted a few more seconds before it abruptly ceased. But it had already left its mark; a hushed panic began to ensue. No pony ran, no pony screamed, but everypony feared, they all feared what they just saw. Whispers and hushed voices between one group after another was enough to become and ambient sound of its own across the empire.
Only after ten minutes or so had passed did any organized response from the guard become noticed. Patrols went around quickly throughout every residential avenue, attempting to calm those who were the most distressed, and assuring everypony that the aurora would soon restore itself.
And their assurance bore good truth. The aurora did regenerate in time, over several hours. But the natural calm of the empire did not come back so quickly, and wasn’t likely to any time soon given what they all had just seen.
***
“I’ll be fine, I promise.” Shining Armour tried to assure his wife, who had come down to the entrance of the palace with him. He’d just slipped on his helmet, and a squad of Crystal Guard were waiting there, wearing full arctic gear, waiting for him to lead out onto the tundra . . . to search for whatever that blast of magic had come from.
“I don’t doubt you,” Cadance said, “I’m just really wary of what might be out there.”
“I know,” he told her, slipping his helmet back off for a moment, just long enough for them rest their heads against each other for a few seconds. “But we have to find, one way or another.” He said as he donned his helmet again.
“Be careful out there,” Cadance said one more time, “I’ll get a make sure to send a message to Celestia while you’re gone. If it’s something dangerous it’s likely we can’t deal with it entirely on our own, and whatever you find out there, she’s bound to know more about it than any us.”
“Don’t forget about Sunburst,” Shining reminded her just before he and the other guards began to head off, “I never thought I’d ever find myself believing anypony could possibly have read more books than Twilight, but he just might know something.”
Cadance nodded in acknowledgement. “I’ll consult him as soon as I’ve sent Celestia a message.” She promised. “I love you Shining . . . we both love you . . .” She said, words lingering in the air even after her husband, and her daughter’s father had left.
As soon her husband was gone, the Crystal Princess went straight about what she’d said she would do. A letter alerting the nation’s Crown-Princess to the potential emergency was sent, and a guard was sent racing from the Crystal Palace to summon Sunburst to the audience room.
***
The air still remained clear as Shining and four other stallions wrapped in winter gear trudged through the layer of snow that kept the Arctic ground perpetually hidden. Thankfully no more was being added, and given the cloud-deprived sky above them, it didn’t appear as if any more would be added any time soon. No, the only occupants of the night sky apart from the moon and stars was the aurora . . . the aurora that had been blasted apart only a few hours earlier. In truth, Shining was just as wary as his wife about what he and his little squad might discover out on the tundra. The amount of power in that blast . . .
“Sir,” one of his guards called for his attention.
Shining hurried over to his position, on the highest point of a small rise in the tundra land. “Corporal?”
The guard pointed straight out to the west, and Shining’s eyes his hoof. He had to squint for a few seconds, eyes focusing on the nocturnal horizon and sorting out the pale-grey of nighttime snow from speckled void of the night above it. There, right on the brim of the far horizon, there was the faintest flickering dot of orange.
It was a campfire, definitely. There were no spontaneous fires out on the tundra; there wasn’t even anything to burn. So the only way a fire could even come to be was if somepony had brought tinder along with them and intentionally started one. There was definitely somepony out there, or some member of one of the other sentient races at least.
Shining took a glance over his shoulder. He could still easily make out the empire, the immense dome-shaped climate shield wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to miss when looking out over a barren landscape where the only other striking feature was the rising mountain range to north. They’d gone about a ten miles out, maybe a little more, and that campfire was probably another dozen or so away. It was definitely closer to wherever the source the earlier blast might have been. Hopefully whoever’s camp they were coming upon would have seen more than they had.
He signaled wordlessly to the others that they were heading for the fire, and they all resumed moving, now at a quickened pace.
Another dozen miles were covered in half the time of the first. And at this second dozen’s end, the flickering light they’d been trekking toward was coming into view in detail now. It was a lone campfire, just as suspected. Though to Shining’s surprise, there wasn’t even a single tent pitched around it, nor anywhere nearby. There was, however, somepony sitting next to it. A single, golden-yellow unicorn stallion with a dark purple mane sat staring at the fire he had presumably lit.
After a second of taking in the tiny scene, and double-checking their initial observation of there being no tent pitched anywhere in sight, Shining and the guards accompanying him made their way over to the lone pony.
“Sir!” Shining Armour called out as they approached.
The pony’s head turned immediately to the prince, not eagerly, but . . . in a manner that suggested he’d been waiting, or expecting somepony to show up. He rose from his sitting position as Shining and the guards came up to him. He said nothing, but gave a clear dip of his head, eyes drifting into an upward aim, maintaining eye contact with Shining Armour and then falling back to their level norm when he raised his head again.
“Excuse me,” Shining began politely, taking a step closer than the other guards, “we’re from the Crystal Empire. We’re searching for the source of large burst magical energy that shot across the sky earlier this evening, just after nightfall. It came from somewhere out in this direction, so we wanted to ask if you’d seen anything?”
“The beam of pale green and blue light?” The stranger asked for clarification.
Shining nodded in response, hoping from the matching description of the beam’s color patterns that this pony did in fact know something.
“Yes.” The stranger answered, drawing a half-suppressed expression of hopefulness out of the guard captain . . . until he heard the next part of what the strange unicorn had to say. “I’m the source of it.”
Shock was completely inadequate for the description of what came over both Shining and his guard squadron. They all, Shining included, felt somewhere half-way trapped between confusion and an actual sense of alertness at the sudden revelation, the ultimate reason for the divide being the lack of belief that what they had seen could have actually been produced by the plain-seeming unicorn stallion in front of them.
The stranger unicorn seemed to interpret as much, as he dipped his head to Shining again, and said, “For your convincing.” He took a few steps back, and raised his head up toward the night.
As seconds passed, the stranger’s horn began to glow . . . with the same pair of colours as the beam of light they’d all seen earlier. But, this unicorn didn’t just light his horn up, he kept going. Lights flashed in a pattern that grew quickly rhythmic, and occasional arcs of electric charge of either colour leaped from the magical charge building around his horn. Within barely a few seconds, an inconceivably tremendous concentration of raw magical power clung to the stranger’s horn . . . until he released it, blasting it all straight upward roaring into the sky.
The blast streamed up several miles until it struck a single band of the aurora that reached overhead. Just as before, the aurora broke, and both broken pieces of the former band swelled wide and faded into a bleeding red as they slowly dissipated into nothing.
For sure, it was definitively shock this time gripping Shining and the others with him. In fact, he didn’t even have any words for the first minute afterward, and neither did any of the guards who’d come with him.
Whoever this stranger was, he seemed to have all the patience in the world. He didn’t say anything either, and never showed any sign of developing impatience. He held Shining’s gaze, calmly . . . and unblinking.
Finally Shining did say something, the most obvious thing to be said or asked. “What was that?”
“A demonstration, for your convincing.” The yellow unicorn repeated exactly what he’d said before he’d disrupted the aurora again.
“No,” Shining reasserted himself, “that’s not what I meant. WHAT was that? And who are you?” Tension could clearly be heard streaming through his voice, and at his sudden taking of ready stance, his fellow guards joined him.
“I’m somepony from far away.” The stranger answered plain and simply. “And that was a display of power, as well as a warning.”
At those last words Shining’s horn began glow. For all intents and purposes, he had to assume that was meant as a threat. If whoever this pony was revealed himself to be hostile, they had to try and stop him . . . though after what they’d just seen, Shining’s doubts were more than serious about their ability to do anything.
“Warning of what?” Shining asked through gradually bearing teeth.
“The disruptions to your lives that are about to come, that I’m here to bring.” Came another calm and simple answer.
Shining’s head shook instinctively before he responded with words. “You’re not harming the Crystal Empire.” He warned in as stern of voice as he could muster in that moment.
“I have no intention to.” The unicorn standing opposite him replied. “I’m only here to disrupt the peace of your lives.”
“Sorry,” Shining said back, “but whatever you mean by that, it’s not happening either.”
At that, for the first time, the foreign pony’s expression changed ever-so-slightly. His eyebrows fell by a margin that was just perceivable to Shining, a universal sign of either looming anger or looming irritation.
And then one final set words came from the stranger, that ultimately set Shining off. “Don’t try. You can’t defeat me.” There was no real tone of threat, and no arrogance, he just spoke like it a plain fact that he was informing them of . . . and it was probably that bit about it that unnerved Shining the most, enough to set him off.
“Arrest him!” Shining ordered.
The Crystal Guard dashed forward at his command, aiming to tackle and apprehend the unicorn in front of them.
But before they even drew near to him, a quick burst of green and blue energy shot from his horn and swept across the group of charging ponies. In the instant after, all four of them fell to the tundra, rigid and unmoving.
Shining’s eyes grew immense in size at the sudden turn of events, and without even thinking of the powerful intruder standing only twenty steps away he raced over to his fallen comrades . . . only to find that they weren’t fallen at all. When he actually got up close, he found their eyes moving, looking from him to each other to the stranger. Their chests were visibly rising and falling as well; they were still breathing. They’d merely been paralyzed.
The intruder waited for Shining’s response with the same patience as before.
After a few seconds, Shining’s eyes focused on the unicorn in front of him again, eyes narrowing and horn beginning to glow.
“Don’t,” the intruder warned him again, “you will lose.”
Shining did hesitate for a second, but he forced himself to overcome it. “I can’t let you threaten the Crystal Empire!” He declared just before he shot a magical beam of his own. It was a modified form of his shielding spell, designed to work the opposite way and form an imprisoning sphere around a target.
But, his beam was met and overpowered, and in less than an instant he found the foreigner’s magical energy enveloping his head. After a few fractions of a second, the vortex homed in and focused on Shining’s horn, until it swirled itself inward and held tight around it.
Shining lifted his eyes up. He had some immediate idea of what he was seeing, but for the sake of everypony he had to try just to see. He attempted once more to cast the same spell as he just had, but when he attempted to expel his inner magical energy through his horn, he found that nothing came of it.
He’d been inhibited.
“Keep them by the fire.” The stranger said, this time without waiting for Shining Armour to collect himself. He began walking, stepping right past Shining and the paralyzed guards. “Their paralysis is only temporary, as is your horn’s inhibition. They should subside in a few hours. My fire should keep burning for just as long, remain safe.” The unicorn parted from a dumbfounded Shining Armour with those final words, spoken calmly . . . and meaningfully, as he resumed his own trek towards the Crystal Empire.
