Fluttershy darted in the shop, leaping over a counter to put something between her and the monster while Glade bought her some time. The cellar door, she noticed, was broken off its hinges, so that ruled out the possibility of the Cakes seeking refuge there. She didn't want to think about what would have become of them had they chosen that as their salvation, so she simply told herself they hadn't. Hastily, yet cautiously, she crept up the stairs, trembling at every creaking board. She was no thief, and bumbled the entire way.

As soon as he head cleared the second floor, a bloodcurdling scream pierced the air, quickly followed by a relieved sigh. Fluttershy looked to see Mrs. Cake and her husband hiding behind a makeshift barricade. Carrot Cake was laying on his side, a pained look etched onto his features, though he smiled when he noticed her. The twins, being themselves, were next to their father, sleeping like stones. “Where's Pinkie?” Fluttershy asked in a hushed tone, mindful both of the infants and the beast outside.

“Over here,” Mrs. Cake whispered back, motioning for her to follow. They crept around the overturned table and found Pinkie laying on her back, eyes open and unblinking. Were her chest not shuddering alongside her labored breaths, one might assume she was dead; a state of catatonia may have been just as useless at the moment, but infinitely better for her being alive. “She's been like this since last night, I'm afraid.” Mrs. Cake dabbed a wet cloth on Pinkie's forehead, choking back a few worried tears as she went. “It's that thing she brought home; it has to be.”

“The Wabbajack?” Fluttershy asked, knowing enough to understand it had something to do with Ponyville's misery. Seeing the older mare nod, she realized just how deep the danger was, and that the eldritch staff may be the town's only hope of salvation. There was no doubt in her mind that the Daedra were evil, and knew enough of history to realize that which is evil often provides the means of its destruction. But, however closely they may mirror it, stories have little to do with reality; though Fluttershy felt it was just, the universe, perhaps every universe, did not work on constructs such as justice or fairness. “Do you know where it is, if you don't mind me asking?”

Cup Cake looked pensive for a moment, perhaps weighing her options, before nodding. To her, the accursed, ugly thing was better left forgotten, but perhaps Fluttershy knew what she was doing. “Pinkie had it with her in the basement when it appeared,” she answered, jerking her head towards the window. Outside, the sounds of Glade and the beast fighting rang clear through the air, and the lycan dodged tentacles this way and that, but fatigue was obviously affecting her. “You have a plan, right?”

“Oh, I hope so.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Glade weaved around the incoming tendrils, dodging as best she could. All she needed to do was wait until Fluttershy could get Pinkie to safety; as much as it pained her, the nice couple who owned the bakery were secondary to the survival of two Element Bearers. She grunted and slashed at one of the meaty things, slicing through the surprisingly soft tissue. This must have been the tenth time she'd cleaved one of the beast's tongues in two, but more seemed to appear form within it gaping maw. A flash of yellow alerted her to Fluttershy's arrival on the top floor, where the Cakes, and Pinkie by extension, must have been; with nothing holding her in the engagement, Glade landed on the roof of a small business, hoping the height would keep the monster away from her long enough to catch her breath.

Glade gingerly stretched her forelegs, which were hardly designed for swinging a sword, and winced as her muscles burned. Like the rest of the guards, she wore shoes with clasps meant to hold the handle of any number of weapons, which worked well in theory; they chafed her fetlocks and made her wish for a better way, but none presented themselves. At the sound of breaking bricks, she took to the air once more, dulled blood in hoof, ready once more to fight or die. As she caught sight of the beast climbing up the side of the building, or at least attempting as only a dumb animal could, the sound of crying foals hit her ears. The Cake twins, Pound and Pumpkin, had been awoken by the crashing, and had no qualms about showing just how upset they were about being disturbed.

“Glade, draw it out front; I have an idea!” Fluttershy shouted from around the corner, either oblivious to the crying or to its effect on her friend. Somewhere, deep within the mind of Summer Glade, something primal, bestial, came to the forefront of her mind, and all rationality was cast aside in the name of senseless passion and hotblooded fury. Gripping the sword in both hooves, she roared and dove for the beast, hoping the outer edge of its mouth was just as delicate as its tongues.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

“I don't think she heard you, dear,” Carrot Cake said, hefting himself up as best he could on a bum leg, keeping his voice low to avoid adding to the noise his children were making. Fluttershy, to her credit, was holding the very object of the town's pain without so much as paling in its presence; she was, of course, absolutely terrified of holding it, but it didn't do well to show such unpleasant emotions in such trying times. “You may have to use this window for... whatever it is you've got up your sleeve.”

Rushing over, Fluttershy pulled back the table barricading that particular window, tucking the Wabbajack safely beneath her wing. In a burst of strength only fear could cause, she lifted it with ease, revealing a sight she could have lived without seeing. Glade, for all her acrobatic skills, hammered away at the monster, relentless and wild, and just as animalistic as she was when she'd transformed on that frozen lake in Skyrim. But, clear as day, Fluttershy could see her white fur, and knew she was still a mare, only enraged by something she couldn't quite grasp.

In the time it took for the lycan to break away, she lined up a shot with the Wabbajack, amazed at how quickly the staff focused its energies without her having to think about it. She thrust it forward, cracking off a bolt of red magic, cocksure as a unicorn. Glade, being a masterful mistress of perfect timing, chose then as the best moment to strike, and came crashing down in tandem with the blast of energy. For a moment, Fluttershy stared in horror as they collided with the beast, impacting the same spot. With a sound pop!, the Wabbajack's magic took effect, engulfing Glade in purple smoke.

“What in Tartarus?!” she shouted, bursting from the smoke like a rocket, a bouquet of flowers in her hooves. She rested several feet above the beast's tentacles' maximum range, and shot a confused look at Fluttershy. “What happened?”

“I missed,” she replied, holding up the Wabbajack. Its head was wreathed in red energy, already charged for another shot, one that would hopefully fly true. “Please don't get in the way of this one, if you don't mind.” She thrust it again, and her hopes proved correct. The transformation energy slammed into its scales, turning a fair number of them to dust, but leaving the soft flesh beneath entirely unharmed. It turned that side away from Fluttershy, seemingly aware of the danger she posed.

“Guess this is going to be tougher than you thought, huh?” Glade asked, tossing her bouquet aside and drawing her reserve sword, just as sharp as her first had been before battle. That was the plan, unspoken but understood, that she should distract it while Fluttershy worked with the accursed weapon until whatever this thing was returned to wherever it came from. Preferably only in spirit, if Glade got her way.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Pinkie Pie, recent target of Sheogorath and the third pony to reach the attention of a Daedric Princes, floated as though a spirit on the breeze, seeing all her mistake had wrought upon Ponyville. Even as her friends fought, even as Mister Cake took a claw to the flank, even as the Flower triplets were eaten whole, she could only watch, unable to even scream, as her mind wandered the town. It felt too real to be a dream, some illusion of the senses; to her, it was another trip to Pelagius's mind, terrible and broken, but oddly earthbound and understandable. She felt, saw, heard, smelled, and tasted the fight happening outside Sugarcube Corner, a battle which brought her no end of pain. This was her mistake, her wrong to right; the Madgod said she was incapable of being more than mad, more than the hyperactive mare she was, but she was going to prove him wrong.

Floating on ethereal winds, she drifted to Fluttershy, who was doing her best to use the Wabbajack, and succeeding only in firing wildly-aimed snapshots that hit scales instead of soft, transformable flesh. She placed her ghostly hooves on the staff's shaft, and moved in time with her corporeal friend, using her own madness as a catalyst for the deadly aim needed to end the beast's rampage. Her mind followed the magic, guiding it on its course until it struck home, pulsing through flesh and sending some small portion back to the dark waters of Oblivion. The spirits of those it consumed, the Flower triplets, appeared around it, unseen by those bound to their mortal shell. They dance, sang, and wailed as they circled their doom, though they did not blame Pinkie, for they understood as she did.

Another guided bolt, and Lily vanished into a cloud of purple smoke, her essence trailing into the sky before arcing down to the stall she and her sisters ran. Though her ethereal body left, her physical self returned as surely as it had been lost. Fear still tinged her mind, but she lived still. Suddenly, understanding flowed through what may have been generously called her center of being, and Pinkie was made aware of a way out, a way to guarantee a happy ending for this sordid tale. She flew along again, striking another bald spot, and freeing Roseluck's soul while sending the Daedric beast even closer to its doom. Glade, her choleric aura permeating even the air around her with her passionate rage, flew while it was stunned, and slashed across the soft, exposed skin.

Pain unlike any she had experienced wracked her form, and she felt the real, material world fading as the other spirits came into clearer focus. In the back of her mind, she was reminded of Sheogorath's game in Pelagius's mind, as she had helped him against his self-hatred. When Fulttershy used the Wabbajack, it brought them closer to living against, but as Glade struck with steel, they plunged ever closer to death. Perhaps she could squeeze in two more blasts before the beast died? With every strike, its grip on this world grew weaker, and it didn't matter from what the damage came. If it died, Pinkie and Daisy would be released, one way or the other.

She only hoped she would walk amongst her friends, at least one last time.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Glade worked herself into a frenzy, but didn't fall to the temptation to transform. Though the Ring was secure around her neck, it had failed before she found out she was pregnant, and it didn't seem worth the risk of hurting anypony over the thrill. Instead, she lived for the rush of fighting something so powerful while her new friend rained magical hellfire from above; for a moment she wondered if Reman and Renoir fought as such often, but dismissed the notion in favor of driving her steel into the monster again. Meanwhile, Fluttershy fired her third, expertly-aimed shot, hitting the monster on the scaleless half of its face.

With every hit, from magic or sword, it weakened, and excited something deep within Glade. Her mouth watered at the thought of carving it to pieces as it stumbled about, moaning in some thunderous tone that hurt her ears. She dove in, feral grin plastered on her face, as she primed her second sword for the killing blow. A massive claw swatted her away, the only time such a counterattack had worked, and she slammed into the ground, sliding until she tasted dirt in her mouth. She leaped to her hooves at once, slashing in a pirouette to parry any followups the beast had planned. As she turned, meeting no resistance, she realized she was cutting a swathe through a cloud of dark smoke, the same she'd seen Reman use in his summoning magics.

“I got it again!” Fluttershy called from the window, sure this was the end. She kept the Wabbajack primed for another strike if she was wrong, but for the moment, she felt nothing but relief. Even as things wound down, there was a foreboding chill in the air, a twinge of something she couldn't quite place, that left a metallic taste in her mouth.

“Is it dead?” Glade asked, unsure if it was true. She took a few steps back and tried to calm herself, knowing a surprise attack could come at any moment. The smoke was slowly clearing, but even after only a few moments, she could make out a faint silhouette.

“Glade?” a scared, tired voice called from within. The mare in question's heart soared, overjoyed to see Pinkie alive and well, though a little worse for wear. Fluttershy, amazed at what she was seeing, looked to where her friend had laid mere minutes before, and found only empty floor. Even as her fellow Element burst form the smoke to hug Glade, Gummy laying on her back as fast asleep as a toddler, she felt tears in her eyes at the display.

“Just this once,” the bearer of Kindness whispered, eyes widening as the Flower twins came out from behind corner, looking as though they were covered in green jelly. Had the day gone any different, had even one thing changed, the day's bodycount could have been much, much higher. The only three victims and Pinkie were alive and well, something that would have astounded anypony accustomed to violence; it was both impossible and brilliantly amazing. “Just this once, everypony lives.”

Author's Notes:

Dinner with Glade's parents will be handle in the appropriate Untold Events chapter, but isn't one of my priorities at the moments.