Shattered Souls

by Coalsmane

Rating: everyone
Tags: Adventure, Dark, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 11192

Over one thousand years before the return of nightmare moon, just after Princesses Celestia and Luna trap the rampant spirit of Discord, a far different threat looms over Equestria. . . . .

Over one thousand years before the return of nightmare moon, just after Princesses Celestia and Luna trap the rampant spirit of Discord, a far different threat looms over Equestria. Displaced by the Destruction of their home, Hammerspark, Opal, and their valley Dog companion, Duurt, set on a journey to gather up the forces to fight this unknown threat.

Published 2013-02-13 19:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-02-13 19:10:01 UTC

Prologue

Shattered Souls:
Prologue

Daggertail swooped through the mists, bathing his glistening pale blue scales in this swirling frost, giving them a shimmering sheen in the morning sun. He broke the top of the high storm clouds with the tall, rugged spikes of his shoulder blades.

His wide silver-gray wings filled with chilled air as they beat the air, stirring the snow and hail behind him as he swam through the cold morning air. He grasped the jutting tip of the icy peaks with his rough talons, cutting thick grooves into the icy surface below him.

He swung his narrow snout north, towards the crystal kingdom. Normally he would be impressed by the wonder of the cities grandeur; its spiraling towers of sparkling sapphire reaching for the sky. Even from his dazzlingly high perch, the highest of the towers could still be seen piercing the tops of the white blizzard clouds.

Today, however, the sight bothered him. They had broken the treaty. They had stolen his son.

He shifted his weight, lurching towards the city. Speed gathered as he dove straight down, his wings opening slowly as he descended into the white flurries of snow. He closed his eyes, lifting himself into the air mere feet above the snow caked ground before gliding up to a more reasonable height.

He sucked in the bitter air through his nostrils, the newly chilled air flowing back out from his slightly opened mouth to run in streams down the back of his shoulders. Ribbons ice shards followed in his wake, scattering in the increasing fury of the storm.

His eyes snapped open, and narrowed in a determined glare. The city lingered in the distance before him; a clear spot in the storm. Their magics protected them from the sting of the winter, but nothing would protect them from the icy daggers of a sombre drake.

He rose in the air and banked to the side, breathing a deep breath of already frosted air. His weight increased as he plummeted to the side of the city. His mouth gaped wide, a grim, frowning visage of pale gray peaks streaming out clouds of billowing ice and snow around him. He beat his wings, stirring his icy breath behind him as he tilted to fly wide around the border of the great crystal towers.

Clouds of ice and maliciously twisting winds followed him, dragging themselves around the border of the city. Daggertail dragged ribbons of the thick, unnatural ice around back over itself.

The terrified screams of the crystal ponies rent the now howling wind. He forced himself forward, hardening his resolve as he pressed on faster. He never wanted to fight them, but they had forced his hand.

The clouds grew and the winds grew into a howling gale. Flurries of snow and ice stacked atop each other, raising higher and higher into the sky, leaning in towards the great, wide pillar of crystal in the center of the city.

The glints of the towers began to die out one by one, as the sun itself became blotted out by the slowly rising curtain of cold white clouds. The walls of the blizzard closed in slowly, encompassing the sun, and the sky itself as Daggertail wove himself in tight circles, the bristles on his back and wings protruding now and again, as though a cluster of sharks swam through the already deadly storm.

Crystal ponies fled to the center tower, their homes still warm, but the magic of the barrier flickered at the weight of the crushing winds. The storm glowed for an instant, the magic of the Crystal King's magic, but it shattered under the sheer force of the blizzard. Snow seemed to trickle down at first, but then the hail fell, and the storm itself seemed to fall like a blanket of furious winds and ice on the castles and peaked towers.

The shadow of Daggertail shrunk high up into the sky for a moment. He flew upward towards the sun, and then folded his wings back to his sides, letting himself fall as he closed his eyes. He plummeted towards the ground, spreading his wings in a sudden motion. He bulleted into whatever remained of the shield with such force that a loud crash followed him through, sending tendrils of foggy tendrils to spread through the nearby streets, bearing dagger sized whirling shards of ice in with them.

He pulled himself upright with mighty flaps of his wings, sending great booming shudders through the air around him. The crystalline ponies beneath him scurried for cover as his talons found purchase in the smoothly carved out ground.

He stretched himself up on his hind legs, launching himself up to dig the claws of his fore legs and wings into the sides of the giant tower. His hardened wings wrapped the walls and covered the windows, trapping anyopony inside as he pulled himself up high enough to look into the top chamber. His eye glared into the chamber dwarfing the ponies there, easily twice the size of the gray maned King Courage.

“You,” Daggertail's voice rumbled, shaking the walls of the chamber, “Have broken the treaty. Do you not remember the deal you proposed?”

“What do you speak of!” The king stepped forward, his own eyes, though old, carried a similar determination. “We have done nothing to defy the treaty! Are not the mountains clear and your hordes untouched?”

The ominous silver eye narrowed in anger.

“Do not speak as though you do not know,” The voice boomed, “Where is Frostfang?”

“Who is. . .”

“Your son?” The ruby maned unicorn behind the king interrupted. “We have done nothing! He attacked our. . !”

“ATTACKED!” The dragons voice boomed with unearthly fury, its' eyes widening in spiteful shock. “WHAT HAS BECOME OF MY SON!?”

The king stammered, confused; unsure of anything that had just happened.

Before he could answer, the dragon's voice boomed in anger, tendrils of frost seeping from over the balconies, “YOU WILL RETURN MY SON TO ME!”

The king tried to answer, but fear choked the words in his throat.

The dragon's voice became lower, shaking the tower as though the earth itself had given way to its power, “Fine, if you plan to hold my son hostage, then I shall do likewise unto you!”

The kings eyes widened in realization, and he leaped in front of the small pink filly hiding behind the ruby maned colt. His hooves touched the ground moments before he was batted across the room, sent reeling into the low wall short of the balcony.

The dragon grasped the small, glistening pony in a cupped fist, beating his massive wings as he launched himself into the air.

The draconian silhouette faded into the now receding mists as the voice sundered the air, “You will have your precious Cadence back, only after my son is returned to me.”

Author's Note

Sorry if the format is weird for this. I wrote it at home, and I'm not really that good with technology.

Ch. 1: Burning Souls

Shattered Souls
Chapter 1: Burning Souls

Hammerspark's horn glowed as he slammed his hammer into the glowing white form of the helmet he was forging. Sparks flew from his anvil as he struck again. His silver-blue mane glistened with sweat, as he dropped the hammer heavily in its rack .Using the magic of his horn, he quickly moved the nearly formless shape into the broad barrel of water. Steam rose from the barrel with a satisfying hiss. He paused for a moment to pad his brow with a wet cloth. The hammer and anvil permanently marked onto his flank may have meant that he liked forging, but it did not make it any less of an effort.

He set down the cloth, once white as his coat but now soiled with months of sweat, and went back to smithing the helmet.

“What're you working on?” A sweet, almost musical voice came out from behind him.

He sighed, setting the unfinished helmet a wall rack. The armor was only a personal project; nothing he would be getting paid for. There wasn't much need for armor these days, and he always liked talking to Opal.

“I just had some extra iron lying around,” He said, turning around.

She trotted into the room looking around at the various simple ironworks that had been placed on racks.

“So, you finish working, and you decide to work some more?” She plied jokingly, looking at him with her mischievous smile.

Most of the time, he did not have the best sense of humor. Most other ponies usually referred to him as dry or distant for his young age. Opal's glistening violet eyes, however, always seemed to distract him before he could get mad. More often than not, the most he could manage in response was a shy smile.

“I got it, I got it,” He said, in mock discomfort, falling in line next to Opal as they trotted out into the main street.

Splendid Valley was exactly as it was named; splendid. The weather was never too hot or too cold, and all through the year the valley dogs sold their humble wares to the ponies that lived on the surface.

It was much smaller than Canterlot, or at least the town itself was. The breadth of the valleys stretched nearly from horizon to horizon, but the town itself was little more than a single dirt road and a couple of buildings. Not that Hammerspark could remember much of Canterlot; he was only a foal when he and his parents left.

They had walked down almost halfway towards the modest city hall before Opal stopped. Hammerspark followed her gaze to the nearby coffee-shop, the owner just now opening its doors.

“Umm,” She hesitated for a moment, “Do you happen to have any coin I could borrow?”

He laughed; he could never say no to those eyes. She never paid him back, but then again, he had never asked her to.

“Sure,” He said, turning to rummage through his belt for a small pouch of coins.

He couldn't stand coffee. Not that he liked tea much either, but to him coffee seemed more like tar than a drink. He would admit its powers of energy, though.

She gleefully trotted off towards the doors. Hammerspark couldn't help but follow the sway of her hips as she bobbed through the open door of the coffee store. His eyes lingered momentarily on her tall, slender figure before his nature got the better of him, and he trotted in behind her.

Knowing that he did not favor most of the things they sold here, he simply trotted to the table nearest to the entrance and sat down to wait. Hammerspark raised an eyebrow, seeing the size of the cup that Opal was balancing on its plate.

She tilted her head sideways, trying to lower the overlarge cup onto the table without spilling its contents.

“It comes in 'bowl' size now,?” He asked, nearly laughing at just the idea of the beverage.

Not only was it nearly as large as the plate used to hold underneath, but floating on top of it's surface was what seemed to be a small island of cream powdered with chocolate. She lifted her eyes from the cup without bringing her mouth from it, taking her first drink. This time he couldn't stifle any laughter, as when she did sit up straight, a sliver of the white cream had placed itself above her lip; almost like a false mustache against her pale charcoal coat.

Opal's violet eyes crossed momentarily, followed by a quick lick of her lips.

Opal took another small sip, and started their usual morning conversation. She could talk for hours and hours, mostly on the subject of her old home, the Crystal Kingdom. For the most part, Hammerspark would just listen, watching her eyes sparkle with delight as she would recount the towering spires and the busy streets. He couldn't help but imagine what it would look like, the walls and the streets glistening in the sunlight, the sparkling towers of the castle reaching up higher than the clouds could reach.

“Why did you leave?” He asked, genuinely puzzled.

She took another sip of her coffee, and motioned to the image of a quill on her flank.

“In all of its grandeur, the Crystal Kingdom was, well . . . ,” She paused for a moment, thinking of the right word, “Boring.”

Hammerspark was shocked. Never in his life had he thought that someplace as wonderful sounding as the Crystal Kingdom could be described as boring.

“It's not like nothing ever happened there,” She elaborated, “It was just that nothing ever seemed to change. Every day it was the same crystal walls to the same crystal streets to . . . . , well, you get the idea.”

“So, wait,” He said, resting his head on his forehoof thoughtfully, “You left the Crystal Kingdom because it was boring, and you came out to the middle of nowhere?”

“I finished working, and decided to work some more,” She replied with a wink.

Hammerspark shook his head, giving up. She never ceased to amaze him.

* * * * * *

Hammerspark brought his hammer down hard on the iron he was forging. It was not made of the best steel, but it's shape was unique enough to hold up under any stress. Like most heavier helms, the piece followed both along the jaw as well as over the nose. It was built in two parts to allow holes for his eyes. The biggest difference from most heavy bardings was that, instead of having a hole atop the crown to allow his horn to show through, there was instead a sheath. A sheath longer and sharper than his horn could actually be, with a dark sharpened blade running down the length the front.

He took the nearly finished helmet and set it down near the furnace. Usually he kept it open, but over the coals was a short wide vat of tar. He pumped the billows hard and steady with his forehoof, until the coals heated to a blistering white. He needed it to flow as though it was water in order to get an even coating over his helmet. He hoped that one day, he could show off his design to the guard captain, and maybe get a more plentiful source of income. For now he could not afford the expensive galvanizing of the armor of the Cloudsdale soldiers, or the impressive brass finishing of the Canterlot royal guard.

The black tar gave it an ominous, dull black look, as though light itself ran and hid at its intimidating visage given by its almost skeletal shape. Hopefully it would not look quite so frightening in some other kind of coating, but the tar would keep the iron from rusting for now.

The coals started to die, and the warm glow of the forge grew dim as he hovered the tar container into its place. It was then that he noticed just how late it had gotten. So often the light of the forge and his yearning for perfection had led him deep into the night. Fortunately, the night was still fresh, and there was still time to get some sleep.

Hammerspark closed the sheaths over the lanterns in his workroom, and walked up a short stair to his straw cot, where he quickly faded to sleep.

* * * * * *

A distant clash startled Hammerspark. His eyes snapped open. He stood up slowly, trying hard not to make any noise. He stepped towards his slatted window and nosed it open slowly, trying to peek outside.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glow in the distance. He dismissed it thinking that it was just the glow of the sun rising. He stepped back into his bed again, hoping to at least get a few minutes of rest before the sun rose.

He froze for a moment, sudden realization painted across his features. He looked again, not leaving his cot. His window didn't face the east.

A violent crack split the air, this time much closer. He rushed out through his large, barn styled doors.

A subtle crackle to his left down the road grew to fierce roar as a faint glow spread over the thatch roof of the coffee shop.

Screams rent the air as Hammerspark grabbed a bucket and ran full speed for the town well. Dust pounded from his hooves as he thundered down the road. His horn glowed as he thrust the bucket into the wells water and flung the water at the nearest fire.

Thankfully, it was a bucket of his own make meant for his forge, and was large enough to quench the fire above the coffee shop to mere embers.

He turned again to fill the bucket and rush towards the next fire. He worked most of his life near the dangers of fire, and he took no pause, rushing fast with his head lowered, hovering the bucket only inches from the tip of his glowing horn.

The ground shuddered as he stopped in full to throw the water at the fire to halt the spread. He panted in exertion, shoving the water towards the fire.

He paused for just a moment, trying to fill his haggard lungs before shoving himself back towards the well again.

* * * * * *

The smell of smoke abruptly filled Opal's senses. She rolled off of her mattress, coughing. As she hit the floor, she looked up, her eyes stinging from the ash. Keeping to the floor, she inched forward hoof by hoof, trying to get to the staircase.

She pressed the door open with her nose, but recoiled sharply as a blast of heated ash was thrown towards her face. She covered her mouth with her hoof, coughing violently as she tried to slow the hazy cloud.

A startling snap from the beams below her urged her to press herself up from the floor towards her open window. She tentatively stood up, squinting her eyes trying to see the ground below though the ashen haze. The height seemed to pull her down, and she inched nervously away, but her lungs and nostrils cried in pain, and she crawled out onto the shallow ledge beneath her window.

Just across the road, she could see Hammerspark handing the last of his buckets to a group of Valley Dogs, who sprinted off towards the well carrying the buckets in their long, powerful arms. She tried to call out for Hammerspark, but all she could manage was a rasping cough. Two of the shingles beneath her slid off, throwing her off balance, and she struggled to keep her balance.

* * * * * *

The screams had slowed down, but the fires still spread. The town was small, but Hammerspark didn't intend on losing any of it. The Valley Dogs reacted quickly, trying to stamp out fires and douse them with water, but the buckets were not nearly large enough, and the Dogs could carry much more.

As he handed out the last of his smithy buckets, he saw something fall out the corner of his eyes. Opal's house, there was smoke coming out of the widows and she was perched precariously on her wooden-slatted windowsill.

“Jump!” He shouted, “I'll catch you!”

She looked nervously behind her, the glint of the flames brightening her already brilliant eyes, fear painted across her features. She shook her head slightly.

“Jump!” He shouted louder, more urgently this time.

She shut her eyes tight and stepped off of the ledge.

Hammerspark tensed in focus, his horn glowing in exertion.

A field of gray enveloped her as he slowed her fall. A small tuft of dust kicked up as she fell softly onto the ground. Not opening her eyes, she stumbled into Hammerspark, leaning into his mane.

"Thank you," She rasped, her throat still rough with ash.

Hammerspark lingered there, not wanting to move. The fires around the town were being put out one by one, and the ominous gray cloud that had been growing overhead had started to dissipate into the night.

* * * * * *

The sun hung low in the east over the horizon. A cold breeze whispered through the town, buffeting the blankets wrapped around the shoulders of Hammerspark and Opal. Sitting under the awning of the coffee shop, a valley dog placed a large cup of coffee in front of both of them. This morning, Hammerspark had no qualms in drinking it.

Opal offered a small smile in thanks to the drink, quickly leaning in to drink. Hammerspark waited for his to cool.

Hammerspark felt heavy heartened, not at the situation, but the apparent state of Opal. Her usually perfect pale blue mane was in a state of disarray, and scrapes mottled her usually pristine coat. Most disconcerting, though, was the sadness and fear in her eyes. Her usually bright and vibrant purple eyes couldn't take themselves off of the coffee.

“My house,” She said softly, “All of my writings . . . .”

“I'm, sor. . .”

“Don't,” Opal said, cutting off Hammerspark, “Don't be sorry. If it wasn't for you, I. . . . . I”

She hesitated for a moment, looking down again, “I don't want to think about that.”

As Hammerspark stood from the table, Opal looked up fearfully, as though scared that he would leave. He moved around the table to sit down next to her, moving his coffee towards him with his magic. She leaned on his shoulder, and closed her eyes in the silence.

Ch. 2: Ashen Souls

Shattered Souls
Chapter 2: Ashen Souls

Opal stepped delicately over the rubble left in the first story of her house. The gaping wound in the wall and roof across her let the wind to carry a chilling breeze through the room. A thin coat of gray and white ash had coated the remains of everything in sight; the charred bureau, the ruined and flaked papers stacked on various surfaces, even the shriveled and mutilated couch.

So much had been lost, but then, so many of these pages had seemed strangely empty before. Time and time again, she had started writing something, but had lost its basic idea and left it there to wait, never returning to it.

She let out a sigh, shaking her head. Thankfully, her journals had been untouched, but virtually everything else had been scorched beyond repair. Collections of novels and histories that had taken her years to amass had all been lost in the blaze.

She looked around, wondering where this fire had started. There seemed to be no real start to the blaze. Everything seemed equally marred, and stained with the ash of what had used to be the simply designed wallpaper that had adorned the living room.

She rummaged through some of what had remained, trying to see if there was in fact, anything that had not been damaged. She tried not to lean in too close, as pushed around the rubble with a forehoof; she did not want to risk breathing in the ash.

Beneath a pile of split and blackened wood she spotted a small patch of forest green. Against the dark and bleak remnants of the beams above, now scattered across the floor, the dark green did not stand out much. The lack of color in the room, though, made it seem as that little spot was an oasis of color.

She pushed each section of the darkened planks off, one by one, trying not to disturb the little treasured shadow of hope.

Giddy with apprehension, Opal could barely contain a jump in triumph. Coated in the thin veil of ash, Opal could still make out the elaborate inset of the thick tome's title; Discord; A History.

An older copy of the work, the book held more sentimental value to her than anything else. She was only a filly when Discord was banished by the princesses, but more importantly to her; this 800 page volume had been the first real book she had read. Though its multitude of lengthy pages and scientific diagrams lead only to more questions as to his origins, this particular copy had been a gift to her by her grandmother, and she had read it with zeal.

She leaned in close, trying not to breathe in the ashes as she gently blew as much of the constricting ash from the volume's cover as she could. She picked it up softly in her mouth, trying not to damage it as she placed in her saddle-pack. She trotted out beneath the door hanging loose from its hinges, glad that chance had been kind enough to spare her this, at least.

* * * * * *

“ . . . . Thankfully Hammerspark was kind enough to offer me his cot,” Opal said to Duurt, the Valley Dog owner of the coffee shop.

The heavily muscled dog placed a steaming mug of coffee on the table. This one, unlike the cup from two days before, was the same size as a normal cup, and was a strong and rich black whose steam rent the air with a much more pungent, bitter aroma.

She took a shallow sip, blowing on it as she cautiously put her lips to it. It was definitely strong enough to get through the day, but so was the more overpowering taste.

She turned for a moment, suddenly realizing that she had forgotten to pay for the drink.

“Wait,” She called, catching Duurt as he started to turn away, “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” He turned back, the words barely seeming to get through his sagged jowls, “It's on the house.”

“You're not sure I couldn't. . . “Her voice trailed off. The last thing she wanted was for Duurt to take pity on him. He was a good friend, and she didn't like even the idea of taking advantage of their friendship.

“Besides,” He cut her off, a mischievous smirk lifting the side of his jowls, “Ah think its high time Hammerspark's wallet go' a break.”

“Wha. . ?!” Opal stammered, shocked. “I haven't borrowed that much from him.”

The valley dog simply shook his head and walked away, smiling to himself, shaking with unheard laughter.

She looked down, thinking of all the small things he had helped her with. Surely there was some way to repay him. For right now, though, she needed to find out how the fire had spread.

The fires in town had seemed to start on the outer edge of town; seemingly further away from her house than any number of buildings. Even more strange, though, was that while her house had thick wooden shingles, the straw thatched houses nearer to her house had ignited after hers. She was glad that they had not suffered as much collateral damage as her home, but it was something that she did not readily understand.

“Duurt,” she called to him again. It was not quite noon, and the coffee house was spars of any other customers. “Do you where the fires started?”

He picked up a dirty cup that was still on a table, the answer coming as a low rumble, “Im not sure, I was sleepin'.”

He strode off towards the kitchen, his strange gait wobbling him back and forth as he mumbled to himself, “'Till tha' damned fire at least. Damned fire an' all its noise. How's a dog suppos' ta sleep wi' all that racket!”

Opal stifled a laugh. Duurt was a professional at finding things to complain about. The fire had left only a few half-burnt houses and one or two scrapes on a few ponies. Most of the dogs lived in burrows of earth and stone, and so had almost no problems.

Still, the fire seemed wrong somehow, though she did not quite understand why. She stepped out onto the path, heading towards a small hill to the south; hoping that she might see just what was bothering her.

* * * * * *

Opal looked down on the quaint little town in Splendid Valley from a nearby hill, breathing in the chilled noon air. It was not very high, but it rose just high enough for her to be able to see most of the town from her standpoint. In the distance, she could see what little damage that had been suffered was being quickly fixed. Straw thatched roofs were being replaced, and holes in the siding of the small houses where being shored up with new wooden beams.

She let loose a soft sigh, lost in the swift, brisk winds. From her point on the gentle hill she could see Hammerspark, using his magic to help people to rebuild their houses; lifting up beams or the sidings while they would nail them down. She knew he would still be exhausted from helping fight the fire, but this was his home, and he would do anything to help his neighbors.

Even after three years, Opal did not feel quite at home in Splendid Valley. To her, home would always be inside the sparkling walls of the Crystal Kingdom. She knew those magnificent spires were a hollow dream for her, though; they would only be reminders of her grandmother. Mica was the only family she had, and when she was gone, she just couldn't bear to live there anymore.

Opal focused back on the city, wrenching her thoughts away from distant memories. While various houses were blackened and in varying states of disrepair, the surrounding grass seemed to be barely singed. Even more puzzling was that the seemingly random collection of homes and shops that had been damaged seemed sometimes as distant as three or four buildings between them, without so much as a mark on the buildings in between. It was as if the fire had no source.

She gazed behind her over to the east, seeing the sun lowering itself behind some clouds. Winter was on its way, and tonight was going to be long and cold. She headed back down the hillock, thanking Celestia that ponies were born with fur.

* * * * * *

Hammerspark let out a breath he did not realize he was holding as he let down the telekinetic field around a thick wooden beam. It was not the heaviest he could lift, but he had been moving things around all day, and he was quickly developing a headache. Not to mention the dull pressure left from the bruises inured by the fire incident.

He panted, trying to catch his breath again.

“Are you alright?” Called a carpenter pony, balancing on the partially open rooftop.

Hammerspark nodded slowly, pausing a moment before replying.

“Yeah,” He said, slurring his words just a little bit, “Just don't remember being so heavy.”

The earthpony shouted back from above, “I think I can take it from here, why don't you go home, get some rest. The town'll still be here tomorrow.”

The voice sounded muffled to Hammerspark. Maybe it is time to stop, he thought to himself. He looked up again and simply nodded, walking off, dragging his hooves back towards his house.

* * * * * *

Opal trotted past Hammerspark's house into town. She had seen him walk back into the house earlier, and was glad that he could get some extra sleep in. It was better, she had decided, that she let him get a little rest before she went in to sleep. As the bedroom of her house was on the second floor, she had nowhere else to sleep, and the floor rooms had become rather breezy after the fires.

She walked down the dirt road, now packed down by ponies working to fix their homes and hardened by the cold.

Hopefully Duurt was still awake, she thought to herself. Not that she needed any more coffee; she was going to have a hard time sleeping anyway. She needed someone to talk to, and everypony else was busy.

As she walked in through the swinging salon doors of Duurt's coffee house, she felt a strange, cold shudder run down her back and into her shoulders. She glanced around the empty room. The room was well lit and kept, but something still felt wrong. It felt as if air had changed somehow.

“Duurt?” She called, hoping for all of Equestria that nothing had happened to her friend.

A small clang came from the kitchen, though it sounded distant. Opal straitened nervously, but any fear she had quickly succumbed to her curiosity as she stepped softly towards the kitchen entrance. Subconsciously holding her breath, she leaned slowly around the open door, trying not to fall as she lifted one of her hind legs for balance.

“Opal?” The gravelly voice of Duurt questioned as she leaned almost into his face.

Startled, she lost her balance and tumbled forward onto the floor. Duurt laughed as she picked herself up, blushing in embarrassment.

“What're ya doin' here child?,” He asked, turning back to adjust a seemingly complicated array of dials and knobs on the three large boilers on the back wall, “No' for more coffee, I hope.”

She smoothed out her mane with her forehoof; dusting herself off from the fall despite the impeccably clean floor.

“I was on my way over, but then something just felt,” She searched for the word, “I'm not sure. But something felt wrong.”

Duurt laughed again, twisting a dial that resulted in another small clang before turning to face her again.

“Tha' would be ma' tea,” He motioned over to a plain iron kettle sitting on the stove. “Ah usually wait 'till the ponies are all gone to brew it. Summin' 'bout it puts ya'r little 'eads all on edge. Not sure why. Got no smell.”

“Then the. .”

“Yes. Nothing's wrong,” His jowls twisted in a strange, but comforting smile. He stole a side ward glance at the kettle.

“Uh, Ye' probably should be getting' back to Hammerspark's,” He said, searching the cupboards above the stove for a small steel cup, “Only way I kno' how t'get rid of the tea is t'drink it, but it's much to 'ot right now.”

She nodded. He was probably right. She knew the tea was harmless, but she still could not help but shake at the knees. She stepped back out of the salon doors, heading back towards Hammerspark's house; silently wondering what Duurt was drinking that made ponies so afraid.

* * * * * *

Opal stared out the window of Hammerspark's bedroom. Even with how tired he was when he had returned, he had still left his cot and blanket for her to sleep in. Though he had left a few glowing coals, covered so they would not burn anything, she still could not help but feel guilty for sleeping in his bed. After all, this was his house, and she had not even asked.

She laid in bed as soon as she had gotten in, but she could not force herself to fall asleep. Though she was exhausted, she simply laid beneath the covers watching the stars. Her eyes stung as she could not close her eyes, regardless of how heavy her lids were. The images of the suffocating ash and glare of the fire were still burned into her memories and her dreams.

The night sky was clear and dark, a calm sea of black painted with waves of colored stars. It was quiet, though. Too quiet. The dazzling grandeur of stars mosaic distracted Opal only for a few moments, before the silence set its thick roots in her mind.

“Surely, I can't be afraid of everything,” She whispered softly to herself, comforting herself as she stood up to peek out the window.

She leaned over the windowsill, stretching her neck out to look to her left and her right. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing there. There was still no sound though. The silence had grown so thick, now, that she could almost hear it. She focused; straining her ears trying to hear anything, even a cricket or a mouse in the night.

A quiet rustle softly carried itself on the wind from around the corner of the house.

Stepping gently one hoof at a time, Opal climbed down from the low window, and onto the grass below. The stinging cold blades brushed her legs as she moved past, tempting her to jump at the startling chill, but she pressed on silently.

Opal pressed herself onto the side of the wall as she peered around the corner, hoping that the noise was nothing.

In the darkness of the night, she could barely make out what seemed to be a face. A hideous floating face, twisted into an unnatural sneer. The face writhed for a moment, swirling in unnatural ways as the ashen gray face turned towards Opal.

Ch. 3: Scarred Souls

Shattered Souls
Ch. 3 Scarred Souls

Opal's heart froze. Her eyes widened, transfixed with fear as the bizarre, unnatural creature met her stare. The creature's mouth parted, opening as if tearing a seam in its ashy semblance, exposing a small amber glow within. The glow grew in intensity and flared into a bright yellow glare. Opal's body twitched with an almost painful speed as she threw herself to the ground behind the corner of the house. Plowing back up from the earth, her hooves pounded at the ground beneath her as she sped back to the window from which she had crawled out into the night.

She leapt back over the sill, hoping that the was no more than another nightmare; hoping it was no more than an irrational fear spiraled out of control in her mind. She swung the slatted window shut as fast as she could, sliding the bolt into place with her nose. She leaned against the windows, trying to catch her breath.

She paused, trying in vain to control her breathing. She leaned her ear against the windows slats, trying to hear what she could through the sound of her heart pounding in her head.

Moments passed. Then seconds. Breath caught in her throat as her pulse calmed a little.

Maybe it was nothing but a delusion, she thought to herself.

She stepped back from the door to lower herself back into the cot. She froze again, unsure, looking back over her shoulder. A faint whisper brushed itself by the shutter.

Suddenly, a blast of heat rushed through the air around her. The air wavered at its own heat, and squeezed at her from every angle. Her voice choked as she tried to scream. No sound came, and her lungs burned in the agonizing confusion as the air they held could not escape.

Sweat beaded down from her mane she collapsed to the ground where she stood. Her body began to shudder, feeling as though she was being crushed by the very air itself.

She grew numb, and gray seeped in at the edges of her vision.

And then, relief.

The heat drew back from her, and the light came back to her eyes. She coughed in great convulsing spasms as she tried to regain her breath. The air was cold and stinging to her beaten lungs.

Still gasping, she looked up to see Hammerspark stumbling towards her. His eyes stared beyond her, bearing a hard determination she had never seen in him before.

She turned to look behind her, not standing up, to see the strange creature that had followed her into Hammerspark's home.

The same creature that had chased her down and tortured her breath now suffered the same fate.

The creature writhed in panic, it's smoky vapor wrapping around itself, unable to move. The formless mass undulated back out the now opened window.

The creature screamed in pain, sending an earsplitting wail through Opal's skull. She flinched, setting her forehooves over her ears to try and dampen the cry, but it was to no avail.

The sundering cry intensified, as the harsh glare from the inside of the creature became smothered with cinder and ash from the creatures own body.

The scream faded into a faint whistle as the light dissipated completely, leaving only a small cloud of ash to be carried away by the wind.

Opal's gaze lingered out the window, unsure of what to think about what had just happened. She glanced back at Hammerspark, just as he began to stumble again. His collapsed forward as his strength failed him and his forelegs buckled from exertion.

She stepped forward to catch him, struggling with his heavier frame to walk him forward into his cot.

* * * * * *

Hammerspark twitched in his sleep.

His vision swam with images of storms, and stark white horses, built like no other, galloping through the winds of a howling gale. Frigid winds and ice whipped around him, chilling him through to his core. He tried to move, but was stuck in place, staring in shock at the ghostly specters, throwing sheets of pale blue ice behind them in their wake.

He shut his eyes, trying to dismiss the cold, lonely fear of his dreams.

Through the darkness under his lids, the sound of the harsh winds seemed to fade. The winds slowed and died against his coat, and a strange warm passed over him.

A distant staggered chocking sound echoed in his ears, as if through a great distance.

His eyes snapped open in realization.

Opal was collapsed on the raised floor in front of him, convulsing, struggling for air.

He stood up, his legs groaning in complaint, pained from days of use. Heat, something he knew well as a smith. He focused, his horn glowing a faint gray glow emanating from his horn. A barely visible sheet moved through the air, wrapping Opal with a cool gray air. Sweat beaded down his brow, sliding from his mane.

Opal stopped shaking, and took in deep breaths, but her eyes were still wide with fear.

The air around her beyond the small field still shimmered, a faint orange glow lighting the room.

Hammerspark looked up, not losing his focus on his magic.

A face of of ash hovered behind her, it's features glowing with a molten glow, betraying a wicked pleasure in the pain it dealt out.

Hammerspark's eyes hardened in a cold glare, fixating on the creature behind Opal. His horn glowed brighter with effort, as he stepped forward slowly. His body shook with effort, but he did not lose sight of the monster. The field around opal grew and spread, still transparent, but cutting a swathe through the wavering air, forcing the heat out into the night.

The creature's eyes widened in shock, its ashen falling into a silent scream. The creature backed out the window, but Hammerspark pressed forward, closing the distance with his field. Smoke washed around the creature as it tried in vain to fell the shield. It’s eyes eyes slammed shut in a wild panic.

A high pitched echo sounded within his head, tempting him to break focus, but he held through. Through the pain, he focused his field around the creature tightening the cold, unseen vise around it's glow.

The scream intensified, but it was too late, the creature began to writhe in pain as a cold and defeated smoke swirled around it, suffocating it inside the shrinking field.

The scream died, and he broke his concentration, letting the now barely heated smoke whisper into the cold night air outside. His head throbbed in pain as his sight blurred with exhaustion. His legs gave way, the agony of his weight disappearing as he faded into the darkness of sleep.

* * * * * *

Opal lowered Hammerspark's unconscious form down into his bed. She looked back outside. What had just happened was still lingering in her mind. Hammerspark had been merciless in destroying, whatever that was. But then, it had been trying to kill her as well.

Now, though, her nightmares did not seem so irrational.

She looked out the window, still panting. She leaned on the sill of the window, peering outside. Panic overtook her again. An orange glow came from further in town.

She had to warn somebody, to at least give them time to run. Sucking in another breath, she began to leave, this time out through the large barn styled doors in the front. She lingered a moment in the doorway. She did not want to leave him by himself in his current state. Especially with something so dangerous wandering the town.

I'll come back for him, she thought to herself, throwing a regretful look back at him.

She lowered her head, and set off towards the center of town at a full gallop.

* * * * * *

Duurt woke up with a shake. There was some sort of screaming and shouting outside.

“Damn these ponies an' their din,” He mumbled to himself, pulling himself off of his bed.

Even though his bedroom was below ground, his more sensitive ears could easily hear the racket. He was easily roused from sleep because he had already been up most of the night, something was wrong with one of the coffee broilers.

Its temperature had been shifting in unusual fluctuations.

He drug his feet up the stairs and out through the front door, rubbing his eyes groggily.

“Wah' in the nam' o' . . .” He saw Opal standing next to the well. A crowd of other ponies and valley dogs came stumbling out of their houses, all tired as well.

“There be'er be a good reason for this, Opal,” He said looking at Opal expectantly. He did not like being woken up in the middle of the night very much, but he knew Opal, and she was not the kind of pony to bring attention to herself for no reason.

“The. . .,” She gasped out, choking on her air, “Thing!”

He shook his head, looking down and rubbing his temples.

“Jus' spi' it out lass!” He urged, accompanied with a wave of his hand.

She stumbled over to the well, leaning on its side. She sucked in a breath to talk again, hopefully more intelligible this time.

Suddenly, a loud crack sounded down the path away from the well. An eerie wail sounded out from the distance, penetrating the night.

An orange glow spread to the top over the roof of a small house across the road, erupting into a dull orange blaze, fed by the thatched roof. Somepony screamed, tearing out of the house at terrifying speed as the town stirred into action.

Before he could act, Opal whipped her head around, staring back away from the fire, towards Hammerspark's house; mumbling something under her breath before setting into a reckless gallop.

“Ponies and their damned fires!,” He shouted to himself, muttering as he broke and ran back into his shop. The boilers in the kitchen were already dangerously hot. The last thing Duurt needed was an explosion.

* * * * * *

Opal stood there, leaning on the town well. Normally, her knees would be shaking with apprehension, but right now she did not care. She had to warn everypony.

Somebody said something, but she could not hear. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She tried to talk, but the words caught in her throat. She panted, sucking in air. Her panicked shouting earlier must not have been very easy to understand.

A loud crack sundered the night air, and a bright orange glow started grew across the ground from behind her. She could hear the crackle of fire behind her.

The sound, though, had come back from where she had come from.

“Hammerspark, “She muttered to herself, snapping her head around behind her.

She sucked in a quick breath, pushing against the ground with all four hooves. She flew ahead, then sent her legs pounding against the earth, each step plowing her further towards his house. The cool air whipped through her mane, stinging at her eyes, but she continued on.

She arrived at his house, slowing down to a trot. She took a few deap gulps of air, letting herself relax or a moment.

She glanced back over her shoulder, blowing a strand of her now wild mane out of her eyes.

She stared in shock. Over the roofs of the town hovered three of these monsters, one of which was larger even than the houses below it. She staggered backwards, keeping herself from running.

No, she thought, I cannot save them, but I must save Hammerspark at the least.

* * * * * *

Duurt rummaged quickly through his cupboards, searching for his tools. The boilers whistled in strain. The heat inside them had gone well beyond any ideas of safety.

He paused for a moment. A loud groan resonated through the room, followed by several heavy, dull clunks.

He turned back to the machines; there was no time for tools. He needed to get this fixed before things got out of hand.

“Wha' am I thinking,” He grumbled to himself, Things are already out of hand!”

He took a moment to see what was wrong with them, searching the pipes underneath them. He chose quickly, his strong hands grasping a knob tightly. He twisted with all his strength, but it would not turn.

He gave up, letting his hands drop for a moment. He took a deep breath in preparation for what he was about to do. This was going to hurt.

Suddenly, he shoved both of his hands onto the hot pipes. Steam poured up from his hands as the hot metal scorched his hands. He grunted in pain as he pressed is weight heavily into the pipe.

The pipe screeched in complaint, bending back towards the wall. He squinted his eyes, clenching his jaws through the pain. He shoved forward with a final surge of strength.

The pipes relented at first, giving a high pitched squeal, but snapped back into the wall with a heavy Thud.

He shot forward into the space directly underneath the vat, just as a threatening click, sounded from the pipe to his right. He tried to push himself up back from the wall, but he was too late.

A jet of boiling hot water erupted from the pipe, striking him hard in the face. He screamed in agony as the searing fluid burned the skin off his right jowl, leaving the bare pink flesh to burn and warp, burning off his whiskers.

He scrambled back from the boiling water, his arms and legs slipping as he managed to get back against the wall.

He winced as he pulled himself up from the counter top, the fresh blisters on the palms of his hands stinging. He stumbled back towards the boiler, turning the knob easily this time. The water slowed to a drip. He leaned his wait onto his arm, his hand against the wall as he took a moment to recover.

He looked up for a moment in exasperation. Ans ominous clicking sounded from the boiler's furnace.

* * * * * *

Opal struggled with Hammerspark's weight. Her teeth clenched around the blanket that she had wrapped around him. Barely conscious, his hind legs shuffled forward slowly, but only his left foreleg hopped along barely carrying him while the other dragged the ground uselessly.

She had wrapped the blanket around his chest and pulled him close, so that he leaned onto her shoulder. It helped in actually getting him up in his exhaustion, but that was as far as it went. The going was slow, and even slower now as they walked through the tall grass into a shallow dip between two knolls.

It was deep into the night, but the flames of the houses behind them lit the darkness.

The subtle crackle of the flames was interrupted by a sudden explosion of sound; a distant boom shattered the silence of the night. Opal could not turn her head to look back, but she could see a bright flash out of the corner of her eye, lighting up the sky behind her.

She laid him down in a particularly tall patch of grass letting him fall back to sleep. He definitely needed his rest. As far as she knew, it could be days before he recovered, as she had no experience with magic.

She drew the blanket over him with her teeth, knowing that this was going to be a cold night. She lay down beside him, leaning on him, staring out into where she had lived.

She laid her head down, wishing for sleep to come, as a single, cold tear rolled down her cheek.

Ch. 4: Tired Souls

Shattered Souls
Ch. 4: Tired Souls

Opal's eyes drifted open. The morning sun rose behind her, exposing the blotted ash stains that lingered on her faded gray coat and her short blue mane, left haggard by the night's winter winds. The cold and dry air stung her eyes, which were puffed and bloodshot from the chaos of the night before.

However long she shut her eyes, she could not get more than an hours sleep through the night, only managing minutes at a time. It did not help that she knew there were beasts of ash and fire roaming in the town.

Thankfully, the creatures had not left the town, though they made sure that there was little more than small cinders and piles of ash where any of the buildings had been. Most of the buildings. The frame of Hammerspark's house was still standing, casting a eerie, skeletal shadow over the town, what was left of the siding and roof clinging to the sides like short shredded wisps of gray cloth.

It was the nightmares, though, that wracked her to the core. Faces of the ponies and valley dogs that she once lived next to swam through a sea of fire, melting and crumbling into ash, their screams fading into the crackle of the flames. Every time she drifted to sleep, the visions back into her head. Try as she might she could cry no more; her eyes long dry of tears, and her body too numb to sob.

She looked around for a moment. The blanket that she had used to carry Hammerspark out of the town had been pulled over her. She looked at Hammerspark, wondering when he had been conscious enough to move it. They were lying close between the small hills, but she had only covered him. His greater size demanded that the entire blanket would be needed to cover him up, but he had shifted it to cover her as well, exposing his right side to the cold air.

She stood up slowly, sliding out from under the blanket, trying not to wake him.

She turned as she was about to leave, deciding to pull the blanket back over Hammerspark. The day was cold, even after the hellfire of the day before. He still needed to recover. She leaned over Hammerspark and clenched the edge of the blanket with her teeth, drawing it back over him.

She walked cautiously through the tall grass, crouching low as she stepped forward slowly. Those things could still have been out there, and she did not want to find out if she could outrun one.

* * * * * *

Opal leaned on the remains of a cottage wall, trying to breath as soft as she could. She knelt down so she could peer around the corner. Though the ground was hard and cold, she took comfort in the small break from running from one piece of scattered debris to another. It hurt her knees more than she thought it would, keeping herself low to the ground and silent whilst moving.

She inched forward, stretching her neck forward to see around the corner.

There seemed to be no more of those creatures, but what she did see was even more horrifying. The charred remains of a pony lie in the street, one unfortunate enough not to be completely incinerated from the heat.

Opal brought herself back behind the wall. She shut her eyes tight, trying to pull the image out of her mind, but it still lingered. It's body was burnt beyond any distinction of gender, its charred flesh shrunken down into its bones. It was frozen into its last movement, posed dragging itself along the road. It's eyeless sockets stared out, it's mouth stuck in an eerily silent cry of pain.

Whatever Hammerspark had done the night before no longer bothered her; these things were monsters, not even capable of mercy.

She shook her head, focusing her breath to calm herself. She knew that the corpse itself was not dangerous, but her heart still pounded in her ears. Her heart slowed and she opened her eyes again.

She stood up silently, careful not to show herself from behind the broken wall. She checked the wall on the other side, seeking another route into the town, but spaces between the ruined houses were too large and too empty, and the rubble there was too short to offer any concealment.

She turned back to the side facing the road. She looked out again, more sure of herself this time. She scanned the road ahead of her, purposefully avoiding looking at the charred remains in the middle of the street.

The nearest cover would take her directly past the body.

She steadied her gaze on the caved in remains of a roof beyond before lowering herself for a quiet run. Holding her breath, she set herself into a silent run, her knees aching as she kept her body level.

She cringed as she passed, but held long to sprint into place. She took in a quick breath, but overpowering scent of blackened flesh assaulted her nose and lungs, prompting a violent, but thankfully silent, gag. She choked down the bile in her throat as her eyes watered from the smell.

She looked forward, searching for another piece of debris or a ruined house. So far, there were no more of those creatures. Unfortunately, there did not seem to be anypony else alive after last night.

She still had to look, though. She still had to hope that at least one pony, or valley dog, had survived the ordeal.

She lowered herself, ready to move to the shadow of another scrap of rubble. This was going to take a long time.

* * * * * *

Duurt scratched his way out of his shallow tunnel, which had become caved in with now cold cinders. He pulled himself up from the ground, turning back to pick up the shovel that was embedded in the small hole. It was uncomfortable sleeping through the night with his back on the knob of the hard wooden handle, and covered with a blanket of ash, but it was better than being found by those strange fire beasts.

He stretched, cracking the joints in his knuckles and his neck. The force from the explosion left his muscles sore and stiff. He had fixed the boilers, sort of, but then those damned fire things had overheated them just by being near them.

He chuckled to himself, crawling out of the crater that had once been his coffee shop. He could not help but laugh. The explosion had buried the creature in earth and already burnt rubble. Duurt had dug himself a full body length into the ground, and had seen the creature starve itself of air in panic while he sat safely in his hole.

A daemon of fire destroyed by its own explosion.

He crept up towards the edge, leaning on his left side. The right side of his face and arm stung with the cold morning air, the warped and blackened furless portions of flesh still raw from the scalding waters of the night before. Across the street he saw the slightest flicker of shadow flit out from behind a pile of debris.

He pulled himself out of the blackened ash of the shallow crater, planting his legs. He grasped the shovel defensively in front of him. He was not sure whether or not his shovel would do anything to those fire things, but he knew he was not going to just sit in the hole, the ruined remnants of his basement.

He stood still, opening his ears.

A soft rustle of gravel came from behind that same piece of rubble.

“Oi!” He called out, “Show ye'self!”

* * * * * *

Opal's ears perked up as a familiar voice called out from down the road. She leaped out from the shadows, disregarding the lack of cover, launching into a sprinting cantor.

No longer paying any mind to how difficult it was to notice her or how close by those fire things were, she bowled into Duurt with a gleeful squee.

“Thank Celestia!” She exclaimed, backing up, looking up at Duurt, “I thought they had killed. . .”

She turned her head, looking around for anything else. This was barely twenty paces from where the town well was, but there was no sign of anypony else. The town hall was in ruins, caved in on itself, and all that was left of Duurt's coffee house was a wide, shallow crevice.

“Did anypon. . . .did anyone else survive?,” She asked, looking back at him. As much as her eyes had lit up a few moments prior, it stung Duurt; how much they had darkened.

“No,” He shook his head, looking down, “I dug a hole inta ma' basement floor. Then ma house es'ploded.”

She turned her head around slowly, carefully examining the rubble, simultaneously hoping that anyone else had survived and that the creatures had left.

“Hammerspark's safe,” She said, starting to turn west down the road, “He's sleeping next to one of those small hills to the east.”

Duurt picked up his wide spade and rested it on his shoulder, and follwed her, walking a few steps to the side of her.

“I need to know where those things went before anything else,” She said, looking between the buildings as she passed them. “I don't know what to do, but I know I don't want to run into those things again.”

The two of them walked towards the western edge of the town. The silence was thick, but neither of them really wanted much to speak. They tread more carefully as they stalked towards the end of the town, gaining more and more caution with each step forward.

As the two of them crept behind a shattered stone wall, the remains of what had used to be the town inn, Opal peered out from the side carefully, holding her breath.

In the distance, she could see two of the three fire creatures from the night before. Flames danced around them, scorching every blade of grass in their way as the light of the sun intensified into a harsh glare near them.

They shrunk in the distance, heading towards distant needle on the horizon to the north; Canterlot.

* * * * * *

Hammerspark stepped slowly back into town. His hooves were heavy and his legs where sore, but he was awake now. He headed back towards his house, looking for anything that he might need along the way. Unfortunately, anything of use had been turned to ash in the blaze.

Hopefully, he thought to himself, some of his equipment was as sturdy as his house.

He strode in through where the wide, barn-styled doors would have been. The broad stone base below him was littered with the ash and splinters of parts of the now incinerated roof.

He took a quick look over what was left. Admittedly, it was not as much as he had hoped for. His horn glowed as he levitated a length of rope and lowered it into a wide bucket, along with four empty canteens that he had created a few weeks back and a a small knife. He scanned over the debris, but there was little else left. Except for the armor he had forged, whose black shell had not even been marred by the heat of the beasts.

He tried lifting the overlarge smithy bucket with his magic, but the most he could manage was a small spark and a dull thud as it fell back down into the ashes.

He cringed in pain, his head recoiling as hot knives of pain squeezed into his temples.

He was as good as without magic, but he knew there was no way they were getting anywhere without supplies. Opal was gone by the time he had woken from his wholly uncomfortable sleep, but the knew she would be back.

He left his house out onto the road, looking for a something that he could carry the things they needed in.

* * * * * *

Opal and strode back towards the remains of Hammerspark's home, both surprised at what they had seen. Surprised, but not shocked. Not much could shock them after the past couple of days.

Opal stopped her light trot, hearing a clang come out from behind the rubble of a building. It sounded again, as a pan rolled out from behind the half fallen wall. Curious, she walked wide around the side to see.

It was Hammerspark, collecting what seemed to be dishes from the rubble. Mostly heavy iron pots with tight lids.

“What are you doing?” She asked as she walked up to look into the bed of a short, broad wagon.

Hammerspark whipped his head to the side, flinging a sack full of apples into the back of the cart.

“We have to go somewhere, so I figured we should be prepared”

He continued packing supplies into the wagon.

Duurt walked up beside him and place his shovel next to everything else, “Good plan.”

Opal understood they had to leave, but was unsure, “Umm, it's good that you're prepared and all, but where are we going?”

Hammerspark shrugged, moving to the front of the cart, fitting his head into the thick, padded shoulder harness.

Duurt made a similar motion, “I dunno', but sure as 'ell not to Canterlot.”

Hammerspark paused at that.

“That changes things.”

“Are you alright?” Opal asked. She knew he still had family there. Surely they would be worried about them.

“The guards of Canterlot can hold their own,” Hammerspark said, turning back, “But we don't know if those things are the only things moving against them.”

Duurt nodded his head, understanding what Hammerspark was thinking.

“I dunno’ how long they can take a siege either,” He looked back to Opal, “They’re going to need some ‘elp. Fancy a trip north?”