Twilight Sparkle and the Stupid Original Pony

The grisile luminance encompassing Gloam’s horn swelled, then flickered and died.

And with it, hope.

A fraction of a heartbeat later her magic reignited as pure, brilliant, blinding, awesome, flowing, coruscating, living, wild, argent power and she ended the fight with a single blast of irresistible force.

I didn’t see exactly what happened, staggered by the emanation, blinded by the pure fulgent radiance, but for starters, Jeris et al were gone and that was a goodstart.

Many ponies had fallen to the floor. The massive thunderclap following her attack had deafened all of us - I could see Gloam breathing hard as the magic glow faded around her, but could hear nothing. Everypony in the room was dazed.

Sunlight streamed over my shoulder. I looked behind and saw glassless windows, each pane was blown away, a few remaining lead calms bent awayoutward from the frames. Dust drifted in the sunlight pouring in through the gaping holes and an eerie silence pervaded. Turning back, that’s when I realized that the wall behind the four rebels was largely gone in addition to they themselves being utterly gone. The very floor they had stood upon had been scourged by power, with stones crackened, blackened, and occasionally missing. A grim triangle of destruction, its apex where Lord Jeris had last stood, pointed at Gloam like an indictment.

—

An explosion of that magnitude is hard not to notice, echoing across the entire city.

Canterlot forces assumed an aggressively defensive posture with the urgency and speed of regular practice. Flyers, on stand-by in weather coordinating uniforms launched for control of Canterlot air space. Shield spells bloomed forth like great ethereal flowers. City and castle battlements were suddenly bristling with spears and the clack of a thousand bolts nocked in a thousand crossbows sounded from a thousand narrow slit windows. Keen eyes scanned from every tower, ready to signal and direct. Checkpoints sprang up around the city; alarm klaxons told civilians to seek cover and clear the streets and arm themselves. Deep below Mount Albion in red litten command centers, tactical analysts rushed to their stations, prepared to sift through real time engagement reports. Thus the greatest military force in the world readied itself to defend against any attack.

But crucial seconds were lost determining that the blast had come from inside, not outside, the castle.

—

I was reminded in a way, of the magical outburst when I had lashed out at two city lowlifes who dared to violate the shrine of Aphrodite in hopes of violating me. This power surge had been even more severe, whether it spoke to the magnitude of my daughter’s ability or merely the exigency of the situation.

I hope there were no friendlies behind them, I thought numbly, trying to recall if I had seen anypony beyond the attackers as they charged.

With their military discipline the guards were the first to recover, reinforced by the troops finally pouring in from the hallway. The remaining rebels lay, indeed threw, down their arms. The spectacular death of their leader had taken the will out of them. Guards rounded them up with no trouble. Medical staff filed in and began tending to the wounded as more troops took stations around the room.

“That was incredible, darling.” I nuzzled Gloam’s shoulder. “You saved us.” I could barely hear my own voice, but at least I was no longer completely deaf. “Are you okay?”

“I… don’t know.” Her voice came from far away. “I killed five ponies.”

Only four by my count assuming no collateral damage from the blast. It was still a heavy burden for a foal her age. Then I saw a dead rebel who had seemingly flanked our defensive position before Jeris’s final charge. Gloam’s zebronican dagger –truly the little board knife had a bite– protruded from her neck. Without my daughter’s contribution to the defense we would have been taken from behind. The wicked morning star that had fallen beside the dead mare was matted with blood and hair.

“Retrieve your weapon, sweet babe of mine.”

“Thou has done well, filly, thou art a blooded defender of Equestria.” Luna addressed my daughter gently.

“Th-thank you, Princess.”

“You may call us ‘Aunt’, young warrior-mage.”

“Thank you, Aunt Luna.”

With a kick to loosen it from the dead pony’s corpse, I freed my sword, cleaned and sheathed it. I stepped to Luna’s side to help her with the anti-magic ring on her horn. Luna shook her head and nodded towards Twilight. Twilight still lay on the floor, surrounded by a crackling rose nimbus as she tried to free herself. The effort was clearly hurting her, but it was obvious that even without aid her escape was inevitable. I bent down and removed the ring from my love’s horn.

“Thanks,” she panted as I absently tucked the ring into my satchel.

Twilight stood and shook herself. With a the merest thought she shattered the ring restraining Luna’s power. Luna closed her eyes and her horn glowed – probably summoning her sister.

“What in Tartarus happened while I was trying to that dratted thing off of me? My ears are still ringing and I didn’t see how the fight ended.”

“Our daughter has won the day with spell and steel,” I gestured to where Gloam stood silently over her first kill.

“I think she’s hardly older than I am.” Gloam sounded more sad than traumatized; she was wrong too. The dead pony at Gloam’s hooves was small of stature but clearly adult. Even in death her face held an unkind aspect, no friendship lost here. “She hit that mare who was protecting her foal.” Medics had already surrounded the injured mare Gloam indicated. “When the mare fell, the bad lady came towards Dad. I had to.”

Following my example, she had retrieved and cleaned her dagger.

“I had to,” she repeated firmly as she sheathed the small weapon.

“There is no joy in killing,” I said aloud this time, “but you did what what needful and did it well.”

Nearby, a volume of space quavered with light as a white alicorn stepped through.

“You may return my hat, Twi— what did I miss?”

With impeachable timing, Celestia had returned.