Chapter One: Home and Dry
Never had butcherscotch, thatched-roofed Ponyville received such a dense flogging of rain.
Thunder flashed livid white. The houses shuddered and wept as water poured down their walls.
The gutters gurgled and the pavements were half-drowned in whispering puddles.
The pitiless war cry of lightening, as it cracked above the swirling, black clouds like a whip, had sent all the shivering occupants of the village cowering like shadows from the sun beside their spitting and choking fires. All windows and doors were sealed. A terrible folly it would be for them not to be.
As the storm raged bitterly, in the center of the village, a notice board heaved as wind and hail battered it about. Crumpled and soddened papers, were nailed against the face of it. Their bold, colourful prints and pictures, though soaked and beginning to run a little, silently but grandly announced various future events.
In the corner of the board, some smaller papers rustled and wrestled against the nails that bound them, struggling to be free and to fly and dance wildly about in the tempest. They featured faces. The inks were rather smeared, but you could still make many out.
Some of the faces had beaming smiles. Sour smiles. Sinewy smiles. Boiling smiles. Some of them had eyes like softened honeycomb. Thawing snow. Sharp daggers. Raging, writhing fire. The faces were of ponies, griffons, dragons, and even missing, much beloved pets. All, according to the posters, were desperately wanted. Some were wanted out of love and grief. Some were wanted to hang.
One of the wriggling papers tears free from the board, and briskly whisks away upon the twisting, howling wind. It madly leaps and soars, until the heavy weight of the drumming hail casts it upon the ground, bobbing in a grey puddle.
It slowly turns upon the surface, and as the wailing winds smooths out the front of it, any passing pony would be able to stare right into the face imprinted upon it.
A carolina-blue face. Purpureus eyes framed by long, licorice lashes, narrowed by a hard, determined frown. Her glaring smile twitched mockingly at the tips. A pointed, lavender hat was slipped over her forehead, clearly adjusted with great care and pride. A long lock of frosty blue hair, stiffly fell from beneath it, and a dramatic cape matching her hat flowed about her defiant shoulders.
If a passerby was to delve into the text that framed the image, they would see the words “WANTED” in large, booming letters, as well as various info upon the offending mare. A passerby, if there was one, would not have been able to weave through this information for very long however.
A splash and a loud crunch echoed about the empty, soddened street, as something swiftly disturbed the murmuring puddle and kicked away the poster with a flurry of stamping hooves.
A billowing cape traversed through the pounding of the storm, leaving trails of silvery droplets, as it's wearer sliced through pools of rainwater.
Beneath a very familiar hat, heavy from water that trickled down the sides of the rim like cascading waterfalls, was the glimpse of a very familiar blue chin, wrinkled by the pony's nervously churning jaws. Familiar, frightened eyes darted to and fro, scanning the seemingly sobbing buildings of Ponyville.
Suddenly, the mare cried out like a snapped twig, and stumbles. She collapsed in the middle of the hard road, quaking all over as the numbing rain travels down her muzzle. The pace of her gasping lungs was rampant. She glances down at her hoof, and then releases a river of curses under her rattling breath. “The foolish and confounded Trixie has twisted her ankle!” She wheezed crossly, stumbling over her tongue due to the shocking cold.
Trixie whipped off her hat, and the rain began to bounce off her horn. She puffed out her rosy cheeks and squeezed out a blushing-pink glow to envelop it. Furrowing her brow with concentration, she guided her magic to swirl about her injured foot.
All the while the spell did it's work, she tightened her teeth to restrain another cry building in her throat, and salty tears mingled with the rain.
Trixie's ears were pricked constantly, her shoulders rigid, every fiber of her being, alert, and poised like a drawn dagger, ready and waiting as it hung in the moment.
Her heart was jolted into her mouth, as an ear-spliting crash roars above her. Lightening dives down upon Ponyvillie as agile as a Wonderbolt and as deadly as a Timberwolf, screeching like a banshee and searing her eyeballs with a terrible, white flash.
She screams as another bolt strikes, far devastatingly nearer then it's predecessor. She shrinks beneath under the cover of her cape, as the clamorous cacophony of rain and thunder threatened to deafen her tender ears.
Terrified, Trixie didn't dare open her eyes for a while. She peers out after a time, fumbling for her hat, and looks about her, huffing and puffing and trembling. Just as she does so, another shocking lightening bolt plunges down, this time, upon the roof of a cottage right beside her.
Trixie releases a strangled shout and her heart flutters like a petrified Pegasus deprived of flight. For a split second, the outline of a figure flashes in the slanted glare of the jagged bolt.
A tall figure, with his or her more defined details blurred white by the bolt's brilliance. With long, lithe limbs and a great head held high. A flowing silvery mane and tail whipped by the wind and rain, strangely thin and spiderwebby, streamed out from behind it.
As soon as the lightening had faded like a white stain banished from stormy curtains, the figure was swallowed by the darkness of the storm.
Trixie scrambled to her hooves, almost slipping in another puddle. Her eyes were locked where the figure had been. She felt as if sharp icicles had been stabbed into her spine, and blood throbbed in her ears. She knew that figure. That was the figure of somepony she could never forget. Those eyes... The eyes she'd caught briefly... Those haunting eyes, she also knew...
The eyes had been like two strips of cerulean vintage wallpaper, with two, beetle-black irises sitting against it like forgotten heirlooms. The highlights of them had like cobwebs or bone-white clumps of dust, clinging like vices to the heirlooms. Bags had been draped beneath the gaze like worn, fading curtains, enhanced disturbingly by the intense lighting.
Trixie had to get away. Trixie knew she had to get away, and fast. She turned and galloped down an nearby alley, her padding hooves echoing rhythmically in time to the humming of the rain upon the grey, teary cobblestones of Ponyville. Her fleeing reflection darted after her, faint and neutral like watercolour.
Questions slashed through the delicate strings of Trixie's head, hammered by fear that raged through her like a forest fire. But not concerning how they had found her. How they intended to catch her. How they intended to deal with her. Why they hadn't already finished her off. Trixie knew the answers to those already.
The answers to those, was that they always knew everything. That they had always planned everything. And that they wished to play with her. No, no. The questions that concerned Trixie, were how long would they keep this up? How far would they go to fuel their satisfaction?
As she ran, Trixie kept seeing flickers of movement in the corner of her eye. She constantly caught faint stirrings or rustling amongst the brisk beat of the rain, and the growl of thunder. Her heart battered against her breast, and she barely dared to breath, so great was the iron clutch of terror.
Some of the windows of the sealed cottages stared out with dank, dark faces, while others glowed dimly orange, reaching out comfortingly toward the dank, greyness outside. Trixie didn't stop to pound at bolted doors, or rap at the windows, or shout for help. She didn't dare. She probably wouldn't be heard over the storm anyway.
But she knew she couldn't run forever. Teleportation, even in short hops, was no longer an option. All her magical puff reserved for that was spent. Her lungs were scorching, and her body stung and screamed due to the harsh, warmth-sucking rain. Her body ached. Her thoughts ached. Trixie had to find somewhere to stop... To rest. To hide.
But Trixie had only been to Ponyville twice before. The plans of the place in her mind were hazy. Where could she hide? An icy shiver traveled down her spine. Where could she hide, where they wouldn't find her?
Trixie reached the end of the alley. As she had gone down, it had grown smaller and more claustrophobic, so she was glad of it. She was now in a square. A square, she'd previously been acquainted with.
She raised her head, the hat sagging out of shape under the burden of the water still chucking down, and her lashes dotted with little sparkling droplets.
For a moment, all Trixie's fears left her. A frown creased her brow, and contempt started burrowing into her heart. She tilted her head sidelong, rolled her eyes, and released a deep, heavy sigh. Casting her lacklust gaze at the building, Trixie knew she recognized it, and that she couldn't care less that she could.
A great Oak was planted before her. A simply huge tree, with big, broad branches with garments of pistachio green, swaying it's spread fingers as if in a steady trance. All it's colours, no doubt bright and zestily refreshing in spring or summer, were dulled down by the depressing pull of the watery greys of rain, and the black forehead of the wrathful, booming sky.
A blue telescope was perched upon the very top the tree, gazing lustily and longing at where the twinkling stars, it's most and only captivating interest, would usually be placed. Tonight however, they were cruelly smothered by foreboding darkness, and deprived from even the telescope's keen gaze.
Some of the Oak's thick arms were bulky enough to hold up strawberry-red balconies. Windows and extensions, choked by limerick-green moss were dotted about the trunk, were near a great two-sided door, with a golden engraving of a burning candle upon it.
Next to the doorstep, a peach signboard was planted, swinging and groaning in the wind.. It had a symbol of an open book, with Golden Oak Library in spidery font, cut beneath it.
Trixie facehoofed. “The residence of Twilight Sparkles.” She groaned, throwing her head back for dramatic effect, as if about to swoon. She'd forgotten all about that confounded lilac unicorn. That goody-little-four-shoes, who'd shamed her twice before, in front of the entire village. Her cheeks burned not from the cold, but from embarrassment, as the humiliating memories of the events flowed back.
The lightening cracked, and the jaws of fear snapped up around Trixie once again.A shadow slid over her shaking form. Another shadow. And another shadow. And another shadow. Trixie crouched down, squeezing her eyes tightly shut, grinding her teeth, and pulling her hat over her face twisted in panic.
Then, an idea sparked. Twilight, she had to admit, was a gifted pony. Gifted in the arts of magic. And... She hated to admit this but... Knowledgeable. Skilled. And... Kind. Surely, she could help her out of this plight...? Of all ponies? To reveal herself to her, considering the circumstances would be risky, but... Fiddlesticks. What other option was there?
A symphony of padding hoofsteps began building in the distance, muffled by the clamorous storm like a fading dream. Trixie leapt to her hooves, and sprinted to the door of the Library. She reared up onto her quaking hindquarters, drenched with water and sweat, and began pounding the door with her forehooves, as if set on knocking it down.
“Please! Twilight Sparkle! Twilight!” She whinnied over the discordant howling of the tangled winds, “Are you inside? Please, The Great and Powerful Trixie urgently requires your assistance! Open the door! Please!”
The shadows rose up from the ground, shifting into solid shapes. Solid figures. Tall, sleek, supple. Every slow gesture and motion they made was dreadfully calm . Their eyes glowed white like steadily burning lanterns, bright but strangely lifless. These were a patient lot, used to waiting. Disturbingly patient. Clearly content to wait forever for something or sompony to ripen or rot, if they wished for such satisfaction before they struck.
As the figures emerged, and began to grow eventually more distinct, Trixie made out cloaks seemingly choking their throats, flapping behind them. Tall, pointed magicians' hats were planted stiffly upon their heads, as rigid and as still as their wearers, were revealed, after being previously merged with the darkness about them. Their long manes and tails were thin and transparent, like silvery threads. One wondered how the harsh winds hadn't torn them clean off.
Trixie snapped her attention back to the door, and continued her shouts and pounding. “Please! Twilight! Open Up!” She hollered.
The figures stepped closer. “Twilight! Please!” Trixie screamed. The figures stepped closer still. “Twilight Sparkle, please open up! Help me!” Trixie screamed again, desperation racing through her, trying to swallow the swollen, salty blocks clogging her throat.
Lightening set the sky seemingly ablaze. The spider-webby-maned figure from earlier, could be seen standing upon a nearby cottage roof. Trixie cried out, as another bolt smashed down upon the tiles, and the figure reared, slicing above the noise with a bloodcurdling whinny that rattled her to the bone.
A tree was smote by another bolt, and was sent smoking down nearby. The crash threatened to split Trixie's eardrums. “Please Twilight! The Great and Frightened Trixie shall finish off as the Great and Long-deceased Trixie, if you don't open this door!” Trixie howled, darting her eyes back and forth between the door and the figures drawing ever nearer, like a theater's closing curtain about to end the final act.
There was still no answer from within the Library. Trixie slammed her face against the door, beating it with one hoof in despair, sobbing violently. She turned to face the figures, ever closer, her vision blurred by tears and rain that still clung to her lashes, and the overwhelming exhaustion that clung even tighter.
She could make out the first figure amongst the others now. He or she had at somepoint sprung down from the rooftops. They were all creeping in one body. Slowly and steadily. They were in no hurry.
Trixie's bottom lip trembled. Her lungs heaved and gasped, as she tried to release words from her limping tongue. “Please... For... Forgive... ” Her vision swung. She was so tired... So cold... “Please... Forgive... Forgive Trixie.. For... Forgive... Forgive her, for...” She choked through gulps of hard-edged air that seemed to stifle her. The figures were silent. They kept moving, their empty stares glued to her pleading stare, as if she were an ugly, offending object, or a mutilated, cowering serpent, and it was all her fault.
Trixie wept, and slowly collapsed upon the doorstep. Drained of all lingering hope, she couldn't muster the strength to cast any spell to defend herself. Not that any she knew would be of use to her now.
She sealed her eyes tightly closed, and shielded her face with quaking hooves. She now felt a new frigid chill caress her cheeks. Wispy, like breath. Another beating heart could be heard next to hers. An old, hauling heart, pounding like a steady, ticking clock. A clock that would soon, Trixie realized, be out of time. But not as soon as her, she knew.
Trixie heard rain rolling down an outstretched hoof. She could hear the hum of a spell about to be cast. She bit her lip, and long trickle of scarlet traversed down her chin. Farewell Ponyville. Farewell Equestria. Trixie thought to herself, bitterly. Farewell to everything and everypony.
The hum of magic began to increase, and sing out over the howl of the storm. Thanks for nothing, Twilight Sparkles...
Slam! Everything, except the growl of thunder and the padding rain seemed to stop. Trixie felt warmth spread over her soaking shoulders, cape and back. She jolted upwards, as if shaken from a nightmare. There was nothing there. The figures had gone. They'd... left her? Given up so easily?
Looking down at the pavement before her, Trixie realized that the puddles sparkled slightly with an amber light, seeming to be sourced... behind her.
“Hello? Who's there? Kinda a rough and miserable night to be out, don'tcha think?” A kind, clear voice rang out over the chatter of the rain, with a hint of concern resided in it.
Trixie's somersaulting soul now froze, and then plopped back down into her chest. Startled, she swerved round. That voice was...
“Trixie?!” A bewildered lilac unicorn gasped. The mare stood in the doorway, enveloped in a bright, homely light, that forced Trixie to squint. The unicorn had a straight, dark purple mane and tail, streaked with pansy purple and ruby pink stripes. Beneath her fringe she had large eyes, shaped like topsy-turvy tear-drops. Her irises were a rich, byzantium purple, wealthy with knowledge. She blinked her dark lashes in disbelief.
Trixie noted she was also wearing a milky dressing-gown, with puffy, cloud-like slippers on her hooves, and had a book suspended in the air by a cherry-pink glow directed from the unicorn's horn.
“Twilight... Sparkles...” Trixie stuttered, the cold still gripping her, “Trixie... Sees that you haven't... Changed much, since-”
“By Faust's mane, what on Equestria are you doing in Ponyville, Trix? So late, and in such weather? You're drenched!” Twilight frowned, scanning Trixie like a jigsaw that she suspected had had an absent piece lurking.
“Now's not the time... Pl... Please, let Trixie in.” Trixie begged. She was about to attempt an laying a brief exclamation at Twilight's feet, but instead, sneezed violently and suddenly. “Ahhh-TICHO!”
Twilight started a bit, and studied Trixie's shivering, soddened form, and sniveling pink nose with some worry. Trixie could see uncertainty lurking in her eyes, and her tongue rolling in her cheek in deep consideration.
“Well... You better come in, out of that dreadful rain and cold. I'll getcha warmed up, and then we'll talk.” Twilight spread a foreleg about Trixie, and brought her into the library, closing the door with another swirl of magic. With another spell, Twilight immediately removed Trixie's dripping hat and cape, hanging them in mid-air.
Trixie noted the inside of the oak was a pale, pinkish, apricot. Large shelves had been carved into it, towering all the way up to the high, wood ceiling, with small swirling pattens as decoration.
They were covered in books. Choked with books. Bending with books. Exploding with books. Books, books and more books. Books of all shapes and sizes. All colours and covers. With all fonts and titles. Some old, and new. The smell of books, ink and parchment filled the room. As well as the sweet scent of timber, and faint traces of cooking.
The place was spacious and comforting. Very consoling to be in. Dry, warm, and quiet. The little windows were drawn shut with purple curtains, that and the thick walls drowning out the tantrum of the ruckus outside. The storm felt like a daydream of weeks ago.
Twilight gave Trixie a friendly grin, and a pat on the back. “Up the stairs we go. We'll fix you a hot bath, and then, after one of Spikey's delicious meals, we'll discuss a couple of things. You can tell me everything you have to tell. Every detail.” Trixie simply nodded as she made up the winding stair with Twilight, staring down at her hooves. She supposed, with a swallow, that she'd have no other alternative.
She hoped with all her might she was making the right choices.
Author's Note:
After months of preparation, the first chapter is done. Yippie!
I hope you enjoyed. Do comment and tell me what you think
Chapter Two: Light Reading
“Ahh-TICHOO!” Twilight produced yet another tissue with a flick of her glowing horn. Trixie clumsily took it, and into it buried her salmon-pink, twitching muzzle. Twilight fidgeted her ears, but still smiled patiently at the blue unicorn. The muffled snorts of Trixie's crusty, irritated nostrils were most unattractive.
Twilight restrained many a heaving sigh, as Trixie occasionally paused with lacklust eye to inspect the contence of the tissue. But she kept her lips sealed, though bursting with questions. Trixie's last two visits had caused nothing but mischief for Ponyville, so the absent reason for her third surprise visit, was prodding Twi like a thorn in the side.
Trixie had her haunches thrust into a large, steaming bucket, was bundled in Twilight's own blanket, and hugged a waterbottle tightly to her chest. She rocked back and forth, shivering furiously.
Not a single thank you, to Twi's annoyance, had been received from the arrogant mare. Twilight, darting her eyes back and forth across the library, took a quick swig of her piping camomile tea. She itched for answers, but the haughty mare had clearly had a rough time. Twilight felt guilty at the thought of pressing the unicorn.
Trixie tossed her mangled tissue amongst it's predecessors into the nearby wastepaper basket, that Twilight had brought from the kitchen. She then rested her chin on the table, folded her front hooves, and stared into space.
Twilight drummed her hooves, smiled awkward smiles and fidgeted. Waiting for Trixie to speak. But Trixie seemed as dumb as a doormat for many tedious moments. At last, Twilight couldn't bear it no more.
“Sooooooo... Trixie. ” Twilight fumbled, “What... brings you to Ponyville? Out and about in such a storm, so late! it seems a bit... Well.” She fiddled with her hooves, “Pardon me for sounding accusatory but... Suspicious?”
Trixie grunted. Twilight stared blankly, but Trixie still showed no sighs of inclining to talk. Twilight took a deep breathe and contuined. “Not accusing you of anything. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why you were lurking outside all alone, in the dead of night.” Trixie replied with another grunt.
Twilight's patience was running short. “Do you have... Anything to say? Anything, at all...?”Another grunt from Trixie. Twilight jumped from her chair, almost throwing it to the ground. Trixie jolted, and stared at Twilight wide-eyed.
“Listen Trixie. No offense, but you haven't exactly earned the greatest reputation from your last two visits to Ponyville!” Twilight snapped, “Nopony goes out so late in weather as bad as this! I want to know what you're doing here, and why. Right now! I don;'t want a possible threat under my roof!!”
Trixie stared at Twilight for a moment, then with a long, hard sigh, looked down at her hooves sadly. Twilight sat back down, her eyes fixed on the blue mare. As she examined Trixie's face, it occurred to her that she'd never seen her look anything like this before. Sympathy began to build like a skyscraper, and her eyes softened like melting honeycomb. Trixie looked... So sad. So lost.
Trixie scratched her head, throwing her misty gaze to the side. “Where does.. the not-so-Great and Powerless Trixie start?” She murmured. Twilight's heart rang like an alarm. Not-so-Great?!Powerless?! Trixie heaved her chest before she began. “You see Twilight...” She spoke quietly, “I-”
“Got the special stuff, Twi!” A young cheery call rang out. Spike waddled out of the shadows, balancing in his stubby, thistle-purple, little claws a large jug with a hot, swaying liquid. It had a sweet, lavender fragrance. “Oh, yes... Thanks Spike. Well remembered! That concoction is bound to help Trixie's cold.” Twilight praised, as he poured in into Trixie's bucket. Spike's chest puffed out with pride.
“No problem. Shall I keep it topped up?” he inquired. “Yes, but... You can delay the next batch. Trixie and I are having a private chat.” “Oakey dokey.” Spike saluted on tip-claw, then disappeared up the winding stair. Twilight turned back to Trixie. “Go on.” She instructed.
Trixie gazed now into Twilight's mug of camomile tea. With a tug of her lungs, she started again. “You... Trixie thinks you... Already know this...” Trixie whimpered, rubbing her foreleg with a forehoof vigorously, “But... You see, Trixie is... In a bit of fix.” Twilight raised a brow.
“You've probably seen the posters...” Trixie muttered. “Posters?” Twilight said, “What posters?”
“The posters that offer a 'handsome reward' for Trixie.” A sullen frown that Twiligth was familiar with now spread over Trixie's features. “A hundred bits! A hundred bits for Trixie!” She scoffed, banging her hoof down upon the table, “I, Trixie Lulamoon, ought to be far dearer! Worth at least twohu-”
“A hundred bits! What have you done Trix?!” Twilight's exclaimed, her mouth agape. Trixie shuffled uncomfortably, Twilight's eyes boreing into her like a hot iron. “I said, Trixie, what did you do?” Twilight asked again, sternly, “Who wants you? Who-” Twilight suddenly stopped. Her heart caught in her throat, and her eyes bulged.
“Good, sweet Faust! You're not wanted by Princess Celestia are you?! Have you caused her some serious offense?!” Twilight shouted, almost knocking her tea off the table. “N-No, no!” Trixie cried, “Trixie swears! Nothing to do with the Princess, honest!”
“Then, who wants you? And for what?” Twilight demanded, calming down a little. Trixie's gaze traveled a little way behind Twilight's head. Her eyes seemed to be drifting in funny sort of way, as if reading something. Twilight didn't have to turn around and glance at which part of the shelf Trixie was browsing. She knew every section of her shelves by instinct.
“You seem to be showing an interest in my volumes of historical conjurers and infamous sorcerers.” Twilight spoke, trying to restrain a great beam from usurping her serious expression. The amount of ponies who shared her interest in such charm casters of the past, or even recognized them, was as scare as the amount of frolicking lambs in the Everfree Forest.
After unleashing another violent sneeze, Trixie nodded. “Trixie wonders if... You could bring down that book on the far right, of the third shelf?” She asked in a muffled, sniffley voice, wiping her nose with a foreleg. “Sure...” Twilight said uncertainly, chucking at Trixie another tissue rather gingerly.
Her horn humming with energy, she enveloped a bulky, beige book with a cherry-pink glow, and laid it upon the table. It had a picture of a large transmutation circle on the cover, with some golden runes spread across the top. Presumably, these strange runes were the title. “Oooh. Influential Warlocks and Masterful Mages of the Blackmagic Era, by S. K. Y. Wishes. ” Twilight's eyes sparkled, the foreign, ancient text flowing through a familiar path in her head, that she'd stode upon many countless times.
“I'd completely forgotten I had this-” Twilight stopped, a sudden realization shuddering to a halt before her. She looked at Trixie very hard, as the blue unicorn caressed the book's cover. “I didn't know you could... Read the Ancient Alicornian Alphabet...” Twilight said quietly, squinting at her.
“That language is terribly old. Not many non-alicorns can read it you know.” Twilight couldn't help for a little crestfallen. She'd always felt so special that she could understand it, and had regarded herself as the only unicorn in all Equestria who could.
“Where the heck did you learn it Trix?” A sliver of guilt flashed in Trixie's eyes, and Twilight retaliated it with her own strange look. “Well, Trixie is... Familiar with the basics... She had certain advantages.” Trixie opened the volume, and started hurriedly flicking through thick, sour-lemon pages with her magic.
“What do need the book for anyway?” Twilight queried, leaning over to get a better look. “To show you something, Twilight. Something that'll answer some of your questions.” Trixie finally stopped her rummage halfway through the volume, and blew a great cloud of dust off it. A great mistake, as this sent her into another sneezing fit. Twilight swiped the book out of the way just in time, before the priceless thing got smeared with Trixie's gunge.
After Twilight pelted Trixie with many insistent tissues, she shuffled over to her side, and together they scanned the two open pages.
On the right page, was the image of a unicorn, done in the same simplified, angler stylization as the stained glass windows Princess Celestia owned. She was depicted larger then the average unicorn, and had a longer horn, enveloped in a fantastic ruby blaze.
With her horn she was touching a cowering rabbit. It and the various other animals dotted about her hooves, were crudely drawn. All with large, fearful expressions, all surrounded by jagged, golden halos. Some were cowering, some were fleeing, some were twisted in agony. They consisted of rabbits, hares, birds, deer, lions, dragons, and many others.
The unicon's eyes were chocolate brown, with harsh angles and long, dark lashes, through slightly hidden by her neat fringe. Her sweeping mane and tail, tightly plaited were clay red, and fastened with golden bands. She had a pale, cream coat and brazen hooves, and her beautiful, curving neck was arched like a swan's as she bent her head down low.
What stood out most of all however, was the unicorn's cutiemark. A golden circle, with an earthy serpent twined around it like a hissing vine. The backend of it, rather then ending as a serpent's tail, was a pair of snow-white rabbit's hindquarters, bob-tailed and all. It made one uneasy to to look into the serpent's hateful slits.
Twilight swallowed. Damn. What a babe. But the unicorn was the coveted-by-all, cunning conjurer Circe herself. Quite a babe indeed.
“Trixie expects you of all ponies, has heard of Circe before.” said Trixie, prodding the image. Twilight nodded, and began to recite what she knew, “Yes... Banished to an isolated island by her father, Guilded Glitterstone, one in the long line of many Crystal Empire Kings, as charge for murdering her husband. Used to her magic to transform unfortunates who wandered upon her island into animals, bound by her will...
Until she was called back to the Empire to help fight agansit a bombardment of Changlings, who back then had way more astonishing magical advantages then shapeshifting. Her powers impressed, and she gained a following. Took on many apprentices, and became the leader of a much feared unicorn cult of darker magic. Even crafted her own spells and curses-”
“And?” Trixie cut in impatiently. “Hmm?” Twilight mumbled, in her mind's fancy picturing Circe's curved, fleshy flank swaying as she strode amongst the ranks assembled against the Changling armies. Trixie facehoofed as if she was missing something painfully obvious. “What's her last mentioning in the records?” Trixie neighed.
Twilight pondered for a moment. “They're all kind of vague, and do vary a great deal.” She said at last. “The most relevant and likely tale,” Trixie sighed, rolling her eyes, “Is that she and her cult gathered and invented many complicated dark spells, rituals and artifacts, and reordered them upon books or parchment, and stored them in a secret library. They themselves built it upon the island of her banishment.”
“Ooh, that's it! Many of those spells were ancient and powerful, but wicked and terribly dangerous.” Twilight's tone was fascinated, “When the library was eventually discovered by the Princess and Luna, they cut the island off from the rest of Equestria, and stranded Circe and her followers there, with their own magic even! The Princesses' then went as far as to erase the spells they'd discovered in the archives from their memories, so that they'd never be tempted by them. They were terribly tempting to abuse, probably due to some extra enchantment...”
“Yes. Well...” Trixie spread her hooves through her mane, uneasily, “They never really needed the enchantments. The very mentioning of them ignited my soul with such a yearning...” Twilight's stomach churned as she gazed at Trixie, desperately hoping what she suspected wasn't true.
“Don't tell me that you've...” Twilight choked. Trixie had gone to a couple of extremes to achieve her goals in the past, but... “You've pinched something, haven't you? From the library!” She groaned.
“Trixie didn't, but somepony else managed to. Though Trixie may or may not have had the thing in her possession for a time... ” “Trix, the Library was sealed off from Equestria for a reason! Some of those spells and things are insanely powerful!!” Twilight yelled, flailing her forelegs hysterically.
“Well, Trixie doesn't have the thing anymore.” Trixie shrugged. “You mean, you put it back?” Twilight asked. “Well, erm... Sort of...” Trixie fiddled uncomfortably, “Trixie... Erm... gave it back to the pony she received it from...” Twilight's eyes narrowed. “Oh?” She spoke, darkly. “But he can be trusted with it. He's as honest as Applejack, and most sensible!” Trixie assumed her. Twilight was not convinced however. “What did you borrow from him, Trix?”
“The... Alicorn Amulet.” Said Trixie, quietly. There was a long pause. Twilight reflected back upon Trixie's second visit to Ponyville, not too long ago. She had been acting strangely, more boastful then usual and aggressive. Her powers had also strangely increased.
Trixie had challenged Twilight to a magic duel, succeeded, and resuming supreme authority over Ponyville, banished her. But Twilight had figured out the source of her new powers and the cause of her blackened heart.
Trixie had been wearing a mysterious amulet, a sleek, downward triangle, with a sharp alicorn design, and a red stone set in the center. The longer somepony wore the amulet, the more powerful and corrupt they became.
In the end Twilight, acting on the advise of her prudent friend Zecora, had devised a clever plan, and managed to free Trixie from the amulet's influence.
She'd thought she'd seen the last of the dratted thing...
“You mean to say, that gentlecolt in the mountains, who owned that old antique shop, was the pony who stole it? How could he have broken in, all on his own?! An earth pony with no magic whatsoever!” Twilight spluttered. “Trixie believes he had assistance.” Said the blue unicorn. She frowned down at the bucket she had her hooves in. “Twilight, the water's getting dreadfully cold!” She complained.
“You're not sneezing as much.” Twilight noticed, “That stuff must be working! I'll call Spike over in a sec Trix. But I'm mighty concerned about all this... I better write to the Princess. If this fellow still has that amulet, it must be-”
“Trixie told you, he can be trusted!” Trixie beat down an indignant hoof. “Besides... All this isn't the main issue.” She added, her ears drooping. “Seriously?” Twilight exclaimed worriedly.
“Trixie's wanted for the amulet. They still assume it's in her possession, which it isn't.” Trixie explained. “They?” Twilight creased her brow, “If the Princess isn't after you, who is? Who are they?” Trixie was deadly silent for a moment. Her form was as still as a statue.
Twilight began to panic. “Well?” Her heart clashing against her chest. Trixie began to sweat profusely. She darted her eyes from side to side of the room, her ears erect, as if she feared to be overheard. Suddenly, she sprang up from her seat, scattering water everywhere. Twilight cried out in surprise. “Trixie! What on earth was that for? You've gotten it all over the floor!” She scolded.
“Shush!” Trixie hushed her. “Don't you shush me!” Replied Twilight crossly. “Keep it down!” Trixie hissed. She immediately sped around, and with a swish of her horn, burned out all the lights in the library, so that the room was swallowed in darkness. “Trix, what's the meaning of-” Trix thrust her hoof over Twilight's mouth, who made many muffled protests.
Trixie's horn glowed a luminous blue, so that they weren't stumbling blindly. “They're here!” She whispered, “Trixie is such a fool!” Twilight flung Trixie's hoof aside. “Who's here?” She whispered back in alarm. “Twilight! Where are you? The lights have all gone out!” Spike's frightened squeak could be heard from upstairs.
“Trixie, tell me, what's happening! Who is here?” Trixie groped for her cape and hat, still suspended in the air. She finally found them, and slipped them on.
“Circe, and her followers.” She replied grimly. “What!?” Twilight nearly shouted, “That's impossible, how-” “Trixie should've known that wouldn't have given up so easily!” Trixie spun around, and locked eyes with Twilight. “You must listen very carefully to what Trixie is going to tell you,” she instructed, “Or we'll end up as good as dead, you hear? Dead!”
Author's Note: Phew! Another chapter. Loaaads of dialogue, which I regret I'm not very good at. But I hope you enjoy reading it as much I enjoyed writing it!
