Chapter Twelve - Hall of Fame

Author's note: To stay in line with fimfiction.net's rules, a few lines in this chapter have been censored. Any line in brackets has suffered this fate.

If you wish to see it uncensored, then you can find it here.

Wednesday May 13, 2020.

Dover, England.

Computer room, Laughing Thunder Studios.

At that moment two strains of thought was rushing through my head.

I have proper magic again! Squeeeeee!

And:

That bastard throw that straight at Trixie’s face!

After a few moments the second won out, for now, and Trixie turned to the grinning bastard in question glaring. Morgan seemed to find this amusing. “And why, if Trixie may ask… DID YOU THROW THAT AT MY FACE!?”

I somehow felt my blood pressure spike despite technically not having a heart at the moment, as Morgan just rolled his eyes at me.

Then he opened his mouth and spoke, using my voice. “Yes, Morgan. Tell Trixie why you found the implication that all his skills are thanks to Trixie’s spellcraft somewhat insulting…”

I jerked back a bit. My ears fell and I felt a bit guilty. I never meant to imply that... “...Sorry.”

Trixie’s tail started lashing as the entire room gasped. At least Morgan faked his… “Oh, come on! Is it so beyond the pale that even Trixie might recognize a clear mistake?”

Morgan got a bit serious… for him. “Apology accepted,” he said in his own voice this time. “and I must admit I’ve always been somewhat puzzled just how easy…” He looked a bit both sheepish and ashamed. as he scratched the back of his head before continuing. “Well, performing you was…”

Trixie scowled a bit, but Morgan looked so guilty the expression had soon melted away. I trotted over and gave him a hug. “Trixie understands. You don’t have to apologize, it was my doing anyway…”

He gently put the hand magic was not flowing around on my head. It was so easy forgetting just how freakishly tall most humans are when you don’t have a physical presence to compare with…

“...May I ask why you kept this from me?” He asked, just like that.

Abraham gave off a grunt. “Same here…”

Tim looked thoughtful, but joined in with a grunt of his own.

Trixie’s ears fell… but her friends deserved to hear it. “...That visit to a shrink really scared me. What if… they actually managed to ‘cure’ me?”

Morgan sank down on his knees and held me tightly. It felt… very nice. The rest of the room was silent, waiting for me to continue.

I had to blink away a few tears. That was… also nice. A small smile spread over my face. I can’t even remember the last time somebody just listened to Trixie…

“I thought it was just a matter of making my magic work again,” Trixie continued. “Proof that Trixie really was who and what she said she was, you know?”

Trixie let out a deep sigh. “But then it took longer and longer for smaller and smaller results…” Trixie gritted her teeth. “And then the so called ‘show’ popped up…”

Trixie started crying completely unashamedly. “...And then the fans popped up… Near bucking all of Trixie's worst moments of weakness made into children's entertainment… and she still got so many fans over them!”

“...Huh,” Morgan said. “Must admit, I didn’t think about it like that…”

Trixie leaned against Morgan, just lost in the feel of being touched again… and it being a hug? Oh, it was a delicious feeling...

Trixie’s eyes swiveled around to the sound of Tim clearing his throat. Oh, how nice it was to be able to hear properly again, as well. Trixie can't understand how humans can stand those fixed ears of theirs…

“...Forgive me for asking,” Tim said, slowly and carefully. “but what did you think the show was? And how… accurate was it?”

A shiver raced down Trixie’s spine. “...Legions of screaming fans… and if Trixie tried to lay claim to them, it would have been a one way trip to the loony bin for her and Morgan…” The room was silent except for the whirring of a few fans. The boring type. “And Trixie thought she was dead. What do you think Trixie thought?”

The awkward silence and how Morgan gently started stroking her mane, told Trixie all she needed to know about how the group reacted to her words.

Trixie had to fight back a whinny in delight at the soft feel of Morgan’s hands running over her mane. Now, hands? Those Trixie saw the appeal in. So big and warm… and yet so soft and gentle.

Trixie almost dozed off against Morgan’s chest from the calming effect of the sensation. Trixie did not begin to snore, that is Trixie’s story and Trixie is sticking to it.

Trixie quickened with a start before she could fall asleep, still in the arms of Morgan.

And with a horrifying realization I came to the conclusion that now was not the time for me and my ego. I pushed off him and got to my hooves. “Morgan, you alright? How long was I out?”

“What, you mean this?” He waved his glowing hand at me.”Don’t worry, I feel fine. How are you feeling? That was one hell of a thing to get off your chest...”

I gently took Morgan’s hand and checked the magic again. It was… stale, for lack of a better words. Like somepony that had been bedridden for long enough that they had not even been able to use telekinesis….

And it ‘tasted’ odd, but I was not certain if that was the local magic, human magic, or even a quirk of Morgan’s own magic, rather than something actually wrong. I was simply too rusty with actually using magic to tell.

But the field didn’t seem to be doing any harm. Not at the moment, at least.

I looked up at him. Even when he was crouched down like this he was just so much taller than me it was ludicrous…

But it felt so nice finally being able to smile at him in the real world… and that he returned the gesture without hesitation made my heart melt. “I’m fine. How are you feeling?”

He leaned in and gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead, making me blush slightly. “Very happy. Its…I…” He leaned back, at a loss for words for a while. “...Thank you for finally trusting me in this.”

My ears fell, but Morgan just chuckled and beeped my nose, making them fold back in irritation instead.

“Hey, I get it.” Morgan took both my hooves and looked me in the eye. “But that’s in the past now. Let’s focus on the future instead.”

I gave him a relieved smile, before looking around. The room was completely empty except for us. “...Where is everybody?”

Morgan rose, blinding me temporarily when I tried to follow with my eyes and ended up looking straight into a lamp.

Morgan shrugged, as I rubbed my eyes. “The others thought we needed a moment, they went ahead to the game…”

Trixie’s jaw fell. “Wha…? They're still playing tonight? After all this?”

Morgan smiled a wicked little smile. “The world is turning upside down… Might as well while we can, right?”

Trixie rubbed the back of her head. “...Trixie supposes that makes a bit of sense…”

Morgan hesitated, before sitting down on the floor and leaning his back against a wall. He patted the floor with one of his hands.

Trixie obliged by trotting over and sitting next to him.

Morgan looked at the ceiling, with eyes that wasn’t really seeing the room…

“...Nightmare Force spirit, huh?” He said after a short silence.

Trixie put a hoof on his hand. “Come on,” Trixie said in a joking voice. “we both know just how flexible your morals can be… Was that bit really a surprise?”

Morgan chuckled softly at that, but he was still lost in his own little world. Thinking.

Trixie laid down and waited for him to think things over. The cold stone was a bit uncomfortable, so Trixie floated over one of Edith’s pillows.

Morgan followed the pillow until it was time for Trixie to sit on it. Then he quickly looked away. Pff, humans and their clothes…

Trixie’s attention focused on Morgan as he experimentally put his hands together… His brow furrowed in concentration and he slowly pulled his hands apart…

My breath caught in my throat. For just a moment, his other hand had had a few flickering spots of magic.

He grunted in annoyance. “Was worth a shot.” He dropped his hands on his lap and looked towards me. “Still, practice makes perfect, right?”

“Morgan…” I slowly began. “Most foals can barely shot sparks when they start learning magic. That was small, but it was small magic auras…”

Morgan’s eyes wouldn’t leave his magic covered hand. “...Well, the whole Nightmare thing is supposed to give a power boost, right?”

I put my hoof in his lap and gave him a smile. “Morgan, even if you end up getting… impulses.” I was at a loss for words for a moment, before continuing. “Well, Trixie is certain you will do her and yourself proud.” I gave a few pats and widened my smile a bit. “You always do.”

“Dawww…” Morgan countered, just oozing style and grace… before returning my smile. “Thanks. I think I needed that.”

He chewed slightly on a nail. “...But you're not just saying that to make me feel better?”

Trixie gave him a blank look. “Morgan… You had a plan for taking over the world when you were twelve… but dismissed it for being too much work to actually rule afterwards. Trixie doesn't think that part of you is very likely to change.”

Morgan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, now there’s a story...” Morgan took on the voice of a snobby old man I recognized as his ‘stuck up butler’ impression. “Oh, I am so terribly sorry, young destined hero… The Dark Lord has discovered the modern wonder of video games and is likely to be distracted and busy for awhile… Can you come back next century and see if he cares to be vanquished then? Thanks…”

We shared a laugh at that.

“...Trixie is sorry for insulting your skills,” Trixie said afterwards. “Trixie knows how much it hurts to have your work dismissed. She didn’t mean it like that.”

“Drop it,” he ordered once more in his own voice. “I get it.”

He poked me in the side to switch subjects. “So… This combined astral projection and tulpa of yours…”

“...And what?” I interrupted.

Morgan gave Trixie an irritated glare. “Seriously? Were you really sleeping through all the books i read? I thought you were joking!”

Trixie shot one just as irritated back. “And just how would you care for books that get one fact in a hundred right, if that?”

Morgan grumbled a bit, but I saw that he saw Trixie’s point. He let out a sigh, before explaining. “A tulpa, or a thought form, is something brought into existence through pure will. They aren’t quite real, but you can make anything from a orange to your own demons if you know how…” He jerked his shoulders once. “Allegedly, of course. But I think you might have figured out something similar to that.”

Trixie looked down and gently prodded her slightly see through barrel. It was… disconcerting, to look down and see the floor trough yourself like that…

But considering how long Trixie had thought herself dead… Well, the ghost routine was sadly a step up.

My eyes flickered to Morgan’s glowing hand, something he noticed. “Why don’t we keep this up for as long as we can? Get a feel for the thing and such?” He said.

Trixie hesitated. On one hoof, it felt just wonderful to actually be again…

But on the other, Trixie didn’t want anything to happen to Morgan.

I fought down the surge of guilt. Not again. Never again.

“Or would you prefer to run into whatever limitations this spell has during the worst possible moment?”

Trixie nodded reluctantly at Morgan’s point.

And then Morgan face took on a look Trixie had learned to dread. He was planning something.

“You didn’t react when I said ‘astral projection...’” He spoke in a level voice, but his hands were shaking from excitement. “What’s the limitations on the pony version of that?”

Oh, dear. Trixie has created a monster… Still, this might just work out.

Might.

I took a deep breath. “You need to be able to visualize the place you want to ‘go’ to. The clearer the mental image, the easier it is.”

“Any scaling in power consumption with distance?”

Trixie shook her head. “You're not actually traveling there, you just… send… you… mind...” Trixie’s ears caught up with what her mouth was saying. “...In a illusionary avatar.”

Morgan’s eyes twinkled. “And since this new variant of yours has some actual mass to it…?”

Trixie gulped and looked down at ‘herself.’ Trixie hadn’t thought of that, she just wanted a way to actually be seen again...

Not make the wet dream of burglars and assassins everywhere. This spell might be a lot of both fame and trouble, if Trixie ever manages to teach it to somebody...

He nodded to a laptop laying on a shelf. “Mind floating that thing over here?”

“...Sure,” I said and did so. Just what was he planning?

He gave me a wicked smile, before starting to fiddle with the device. “The implications of your projection having magic of its own haven’t even dawned on you, huh?”

I felt my eyes widen a bit, and I had to swallow a lump in my throat. Once again, Morgan had a point.

Bucking hell. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I just might have made one of those spells that gets dropped into the deepest vault the Royal Sisters have and even they try to forget about it after that.

I… honestly didn’t know how to feel about that. I just…

I leaned against Morgan and closed my eyes for a moment. I just wanted to be… able to…

Morgan gave me a worried glance over the screen of the laptop. “...You alright?”

I gave him his hand a quick squeeze. “...I just wanted to… be more then a voice in your head. I never intended to make something this potentially dangerous…”

He gave my hoof a gentle pat. “You’ve done and made something damn impressive. Don’t let how it might be misused destroy that…”

Trixie gave Morgan a relieved smile, before leaning back and letting him work.

Morgan swiftly had the thing booted up and logged into.

Trixie had to resist the urge to just shake her head, again. Twenty years of being at least able to watch this world and I can still barely wrap my head around just how small and powerful the computers of this world are… And the bucking things don’t have a single spell in them! Honestly, Trixie thought it was ludicrous even when she saw her first clunky desktop! This sliver of a thing in Morgan’s lap honestly made Trixie wonder if this must be what earth ponies felt when they watched Trixie perform…

Trixie blinked, and looked down again. Down at the hooves she actually had for the first time in decades.

...Could this mean that Trixie might finally have a chance to experiment and take a closer look at the things in this world? That just might be quite the silver lining…

Morgan snapped his fingers to get Trixie’s attention, making Trixie jolt slightly. “Sorry, Morgan. Trixie was just thinking. What did you have in mind?”

With a grin, he turned the thing around and showed Trixie...

A webcam. Pointed at some buildings among drifts of snow and ice...

In Antarctica.

Morgan’s grin grew to near perverted levels. “Want to scare the Norwegians at Troll station?”

...Alright, Trixie admits, she just had to laugh at that suggestion for a while.

Trixie wiped a tear from her eye, once she finally got herself under control again. “Trixie thinks something a bit closer might be wise as the test-run, Morgan…”

Judging from how he was smiling Morgan hadn’t actually thought I’d go for it, he just pressed a few buttons and showed me another tab on the browser. “How about this then? Local enough?”

It was detailed close-ups of the Big Ben. Trixie hummed softly as she thought it over. The pictures were good, London wasn’t that far away for that kind of spell…

But Trixie shook her head. “Trixie would rather not appear in such a public place…”

Morgan’s eyes nearly left his sockets.

Trixie rolled her own eyes in turn. “Because the whole ‘pony’ thing has people already running around like headless chickens and Trixie would rather not add to that by ‘hunting’ one of this worlds most famous landmarks? Seriously, Morgan. Give Trixie some credit...”

Morgan gave a grunt in acknowledgement, as he saw Trixie’s point. As he should.

He scratched his head. “...Its more than a little anticlimactic, but how about our recording room?”

Trixie looked towards the room she knew to be less than ten meters away, before looking back at him. “Morgan, using a astral projection to get there... that’s like shooting your TV because you can’t be arsed to get up and turn it off.”

Morgan just shrugged. “All the more reason it should be easy, right?”

Trixie thought it over. It was an insultingly easy test for a mare of her talents… but Trixie must admit she had gotten a bit rusty…

“...Trixie must admit...” Trixie slowly said, stroking her chin. “that does sounds like it might be a good first test… But Trixie would need to dispel this one first.”

Morgan stroked his own chin while he thought it over. “...Mind if I try something in that case?”

“Trixie sees no harm in it…”

Morgan nodded, before reaching into his pockets and retrieving his wallet. He cracked it open in turn and fished out his traveling sewing kit and starting fiddling with the tiny plastic box.

...Just what is he planning? Does he want me to hold a button and see if it follows, or so-

Than the crazy bastard stabbed himself in the hand with a needle. Straight in the magic field.

Trixie bit back a wince as some mental feedback started flowing through the magic link. It was… distracting, but this was hardly the first time I had felt pain from Morgan.

Trixie sighed at her companion. “Morgan. Please don’t do stuff like that.”

He yanked the sliver of metal out with no ceremony. The crazy bastard didn’t even wince, he just wiped the needle on his pants and replaced it in his kit.

With another sight Trixie held out her hoof, beckoning Morgan to give him the hand.

“What, this ti-” Morgan began, but Trixie glared at him until he took the hint and offered her the hand.

Trixie studied the wound and she winced when she saw that Morgan hadn’t even held back. It was thin hole straight through the soft tissue between his thumb and index finger.

And he seemed more interested in what I was about to do, then the wound.

I looked him in the eye. “Morgan, I know you don’t think very highly about the state of your body… But please, don’t add problems. OK?”

He was silent for a moment. “Did anything happen?”

Trixie reluctantly told him about the manageable feedback.

And to Trixie’s frustration he just smiled after that. “Well, a bit of pain for knowledge seems a decent trade for me…”

Trixie ignored that… and tried to ignore the dripping. She decided to see if she could remember the basic healing-spell her mom had thought her…

Mom…

An old ache bloomed in my chest at the word, but I fought it down.

I fought that train of thought down, now was not the time...Instead I focused my magic around the wound, giving Morgan’s own body the energy to do the work itself. I was a bit worried that Morgan’s magic might interfere, but it seemed to just flow into my spell without any problems…

Trixie guesses the whole two in one thing must have some advantages.

Morgan carefully flexed his hand as soon as the glow of my magic disappeared. The act sent a few jabs of pain through the link, but it was the ache of a dressed wound rather than a fresh and untended one.

“Huh,” Morgan said, still flexing his hand. “must admit I could get used to this…”

Trixie jabbed him hard in the side, forcing a breath out of the irritant. “No. More. Experiments. Involving. Things. Like. That.” Trixie made sure to repeat the gesture for each word, to make it sink trough Morgan’s thick skull.

Morgan didn’t resist, but he looked irritated. “Would you have preferred this avatar of your be dispelled by me having a coughing fit or something…” He said after in a slow, careful voice after I was done. “...while doing anything delicate or dangerous?”

“Compared to having to see you stab yourself?” Trixie said without any hesitation. “Yes.”

Morgan blinked, and actually had the sense to look a bit sheepish at that. “...Sorry, didn’t think about it like that…”

“I know, Morgan.” With a sigh, Trixie leaned over and gave him a hug. “And Trixie gets it, she really does… But you didn’t even warn her, or sterilize the needle.”

“...Guess I got a bit carried away, huh?”

Trixie wondered briefly if this was her doing. She was the one that told Morgan story after story about the wonders of magic when he was growing up…

Morgan reached for Trixie’s ears and gently lifted them upwards. “...Sorry, Morgan. But that’s horses, not ponies.”

But it still made Trixie smile a bit.

“So,” Morgan let go of my ears, grinning like a loon. “what now then?”

Trixie tilted her head. Morgan sounded so upbeat.

Too upbeat.

“...Is there anything you want to talk about?” Trixie said.

Morgan’s grin wilted like a flower held by a windigoo.

He hesitated for a moment, before simply saying “Yes.”

Trixie scooted over and leaned against Morgan’s side. “Just say it.”

Morgan leaned back against Trixie.

Trixie couldn’t help but grin, this… This was the kind of stuff she had dreamed for years.

Morgan let out a small laugh. “Pony cheeks actually does that?”

Trixie snorted. “Said the pants obsessed monkey…”

We traded a chuckle at that, before just sitting in silence for a while.

Trixie had to blink away a few tears. Trixie never thought she’d get to do something like this…

And Trixie wishes she could add a ‘again’ to that last sentence…

But… “What did you want to ask, Morgan?”

“...Promise you won’t be mad and go fume in your wagon for a week or two?”

Ugh, Trixie is not looking forward to this if he wants that… “Trixie promises. Now, spill it.”

Morgan leaned a bit harder against Trixie, but Trixie barely budged. “...This is nice. No offense and I’m not trying to guilt you or anything, but I kinda wish you’d figured this trick out sooner.”

Trixie followed her… friends example, in both leaning more and wishing the same. The former made him move a couple of centimeters on accident. “You need to gain some weight. No joke, Morgan…”

Morgan gave an irritated grunt. “Hey, I went on a freaking lard diet once. Wherever everything I eat is going I do-” He stopped mid sentence, tensing slightly.

“...Was it just me, or does Edith have much longer hair then she used to… Not to mention the age thing?” He said in a very careful voice.

Trixie turned to look at him. Trixie lives in his bucking head and she still has trouble following his thought process, sometimes...

Trixie hopes those two things are only tangentially related. Trixie would never forgive herself if her mere presence was damaging Morgan...

But one moment its corny jokes, the next quantum bucking physics… “What are you implying, Morgan?”

“...If you wanted somebody gone for who knows how long, but without actually killing them,” he said voice still very careful. ”How would you do it`”

Trixie thought it over. “...Trick them into going to Ponyville until they get assimilated by the crazy?”

Morgan bit back a laugh. “I’m serious. How would you do it?”

“I take it you mean by magic, not things like bribes or just ignoring them until they go away?” Morgan nodded. “...Trixie supposes she could do something like that, but it wouldn’t exactly be Trixie’s style…”

I gave Morgan a warning glare, but he just smiled. “I won’t mention wheels if you don’t…” He said almost keeping his face and voice neutral.

Trixie shivered. “Please, Morgan. Don’t mention that… thing. Trixie was hours away from declaring herself the Dark Queen of All She May See and challenging Celestia to a duel. Being under the effect of that damn thing was horrible.”

Morgan put the computer on the floor and wrapped an arm around me, making me feel a bit better. “...You’ve never mentioned what it was like. What was that...Well, pardon the pun, but episode like… from your perspective?”

Trixie closed her eyes… trying not to remember and yet being so, so tempted to do so… “Power. That was the long and the short of it. I felt as if I could trot straight into Canterlot and make both Princesses kiss my hooves… and they would be thanking me for the privilege.” Trixie shivered again, despite herself. “And the bucking thing kept whispering to me, all the sort of ways I could use that power…”

“...What kind of whispers?”

Trixie shook her head, trying to clear it. “...Just… stuff. Ponies that had laughed at me, things that didn’t deserve to… continue. Stuff like that.” Trixie gave Morgan a weak smile. “Would you believe Trixie if she told you she thinks she handled that day quite well, all things considered?”

Morgan shivered slightly. “...Those two numbskulls were lucky not to end up turned inside out, weren't they?”

“...Trixie was… tempted, yes…”

Morgan gave a disgusted grimace.

“So, Calvin,” Trixie said putting her own hoof around Morgan. “What was that idea and question of yours, anyway?”

Morgan shivered again. “Please, don’t joke about that. Anybody hear you, and we are never hearing the end of it…”

Trixie smiled and wiggled her eyebrows. “Trixie can think of worse things to be compared to then a dashing Tiger with strange powers…”

“...Dashing?” Morgan asked, sounding amused.

“Hands and claws… What’s not to like?” Trixie growled suggestively, just to get Morgan’s goat.

Morgan just shook his head. “And people wonder why I’m so seldom surprised about stuff like that…”

Trixie let go and punched Morgan lightly in the side, making him let go in turn.

“Anyway…” he said, rubbing his side. “I was thinking about the whole real ponies thing… You said something about Discord?”

Trixie’s face twisted into a grimace, as she felt a few flames lick along her hair… but she fought it down at the sight of the wide eyed Morgan.

“...Holy fuck. Ponies actually burst into flames when angry? I thought that was just a one time joke!” He nearly shouted.

Trixie just shrugged. “Unicorns have a lot of magic coursing through them, not just their horns. Some weird biological quirks are to be expected…”

Morgan suddenly looked worried. “...What about my anger problem?”

Oh boy, Trixie hadn’t thought about that… “…Trixie will teach you a fire-extinguishing spell. Just in case...”

Morgan suddenly went very, very still. As if he had seen something wondrous that the slightest movement would scare away…

Trixie has dreamed of this moment.

Trixie gently took both his hands, looked him into the eyes smiling and said: “Trixie would love to call you apprentice, Morgan. You just have to say the word…”

Morgan’s face… almost flickered, as if he simply couldn’t decide how to feel…

But Trixie’s mood and ears fell, as he finally decided on a somber one. “...You don’t want that?”

Morgan looked down on the floor. “...Why now?”

Trixie let go of his other hand, and patted his other. The one still glowing like a tiny fire. Trixie had literally seen ponies calling themselves archmages capable of lesser at their best… and this was just Trixie leaching magic from him.

Trixie felt so, so foolish. So many years of potential learning, missed.

“...The thought that humans might actually have magic never occurred to Trixie. Trixie was just so used to the idea that horns equals magic that… that it never occurred to her. It was another reason I could barely stand when you read those books.” Trixie lifted her eyes from Morgan’s glowing hand and focused on his reserved face. “...Can you forgive Trixie?”

It looked a bit sad, but he did smile at that. “What? Forgive the wonderful mare that has thought me so many things, just because something slipped her mind?” He ruffled my mane with his other hand, making me yelp. “What is there to forgive?”

I blinked a few tears away at that. “...Oh, Morgan… That was so sweet of you…”

He blushed slightly and scratched the back of his head. “...I guess I don’t have to ask that question now…”

My right ear flicked in annoyance. “Morgan, stop being a tease. Out with it. Both of them.”

“...I thought…” He took a deep breath and his eyes drifted to the floor again. “That you might have not wanted to teach me because of the… Nightmare thing.”

I let out a deep and annoyed sigh. “Stop that, Morgan. You’re no more that creature then I am the same mare that embarrassed almost all of the Elements, only to need bailing out from one of them, all those years ago…”

He looked me in the eye again, and smiled once more. “Thanks… hearing that means a lot to me.”

“Good.” Trixie smiled back. “And what were you thinking earlier?”

Morgan let go of Trixie’s hooves and leaned back against the wall, staring towards infinity. “...This is just a… hypothesis, if you will…”

“...Yes?”

“Discord had this no killing rule, right?” Morgan shrugged. “Never got why past ‘Kids show, duh.’ but it was one of the few things he took dead serious, right?”

I shuddered at the memories of that… thing. “As loathe as I am to praise anything about the son of a nag and a overgrown lizard… But yes, I believe so.”

“Forcing somepony to be reincarnated into somebody… without actually killing them.” He waved his hands vaguely in front of himself. “Would that not imply...that the original bodies are not only around, but kept alive somehow? Discord never seemed the ‘continuation of the Mind is enough’ type, to me…”

My jaw fell, before I near whispered: “...Do you think that… there’s a way to get my body back, then?”

My ears fell as Morgan slowly shook his head. “Before I start changing? I’m so sorry, Trixie… But I honestly don’t even know where to start.”

Trixie nodded. She had thought as much… but that hadn't stopped the mote of hope from flaring in her heart.

Morgan continued. It was obvious he was trying to distract me as much as he wanted to talk about his idea… but I thought it a nice gesture, so I didn’t mind. “Well, I’m not going to mince words for a mare that isn’t here. Old Edith was a withered twig… but new Edith is…”

He stopped, at a temporary loss for words.

“...A photoshoot away from being a bucking bikini model?” Trixie volunteered.

Morgan barked out a laugh. “I was thinking of a polite way to say ‘smoking... for a tiny, green horse’ to a another mare... but sure, that works.”

Trixie's brow furrowed in concentration.

Morgan suddenly looked worried. “...What?” He asked nervously.

Trixie gently put a hoof in Morgan’s lap. “Trixie is going to warn you… If this transformation works by mashing the old with the new…” Trixie took a deep breath. “Then your horizons are probably going to be broadened. Just saying.”

Morgan suddenly looked cautiously optimistic. “...How broad?”

Trixie rubbed her hooves together, feeling a slight blush form on her cheeks. “...Trixie is something of a…omnivore, when it comes to certain appetites, let us put it like that…”

Morgan hummed thoughtfully… before just shrugging. “Thanks for the warning, but I don’t think I needed it.”

Trixie’s ear flicked again. “That’s it? No other reaction?”

“Meh, I would be more disturbed by a narrowing.” Morgan just shrugged again. “You're talking with the resident sense freak, remember? I was already OK with the whole female thing…”

Trixie gave Morgan a disbelieving look, but he just put his arm to his forehead and ‘swooned’ in a dramatic fashion. “Oh, no. The one thing that is male exclusive now a days, siring, traded for its female equivalent, birthing? How ever shall I deal with that, longer lifespan, better orgasms and similar…” He let his arm fall and his features darkened. “When I’m most likely going to be single before the day is over anyway…”

There had been nothing joking about the last part.

Trixie didn’t know what to say, so she leaned over and hugged him instead.

Morgan gave a quick squeeze in turn, before gently pushing Trixie away. “Thanks… but how about we perform that small test and then go see the others? Me having to tell Tina is a couple of hours away after all…” Morgan said with a waxy smile.

Trixie didn’t buy it for a second, but she saw no harm in it. She gave him a nod. “Trixie is going to dispel the current one, and recast is focusing on the recording room… OK? You just keep calm and still, and try to focus on if you feel anything peculiar, OK?”

Morgan gave a small salute… but Trixie saw him hesitate. “Yes, Morgan?”

“...Do you want me to do the whole calling you Master or Mistress when we do this stuff thing?” Morgan said hesitatingly. “I don’t have a clue if ponies have that tradition, but I thought I should ask…”

For a moment Trixie’s heart caught in her throat. She… never thought…

Trixie smiled wide at that, wide enough that she heard a small squeak. Such a sweet, clever child… “That’s more of a formal thing, Morgan.” Trixie gave a small shrug. “We actually find any others mages to be formal with, then sure…”

“Gotcha, boss.” Then Morgan redid his salute, looking so serious it was silly just because of that.

Trixie gave Morgan a light glare. “Trixie will be fine…”

Morgan gave Trixie this just adorable pout... “...Seriously, not even the ‘The Great and Powerful’ bit?”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “Morgan… you’ve read too many bad fantasy novels. Do you have any idea how irritating even hearing one’s title in every sentence is?” Trixie jabbed Morgan playfully on the arm. “You will call Trixie, Trixie…” Trixie said half-jokingly. “and like it, Mr.”

Morgan’s lip twitched. “‘You will call Trixie, Trixie?’”

Trixie couldn’t help but smile a bit herself. “‘And like it, Mr.’ Get it right.”

“Fine, Trixie… but the others are still waiting,” Morgan said with a twinkle in his eye. “Shall we?”

Trixie nodded, before closing her eyes and… savoring the moment. Dispelling a spell like this was foal’s play, you more or less only had to ‘let go...’

But it was the first time in far too long that Trixie had… been. Even simple things like how gravity pulled all of her down had a novel edge to it Trixie had almost forgotten…

Trixie jerked slightly, as Morgan gently put his hand on my side. “I know it must be wonderful to just be walking around again…” He said. “but I sadly think you're onto something with the no public appearances yet thing.” He gave me big smile. “But I have vague plan if telling Tina goes about as well as I fear… Just hang in there until then, OK?”

Trixie gave Morgan a puzzled look.

But he just chuckled. “Tell you later, OK?” He rubbed his hands together, grinning like a child at Christmas morning. “Now, do that thing you do and remind me of the babe!”

Trixie gave him a level gaze. “Morgan, I’m not doing that.”

“Aww,” He said, looking disappointed. “Sorry, but I had to try.”

Trixie was just about to crack a joke that he might have another reason to like that movie soon… but he got a thoughtful look before Trixie could do so. “...The musical thing,” he said. “any truth to it?”

He even looked and sounded… worried of all things.

Trixie just had to stare at her companion. “...Seriously? That you're worried about... but not the sex change?”

Morgan shivered slightly. “Most musicals freak me out. The spontaneous songs that nobody notices just make no sense. In Labyrinth it’s at least Jareth being weird.”

Trixie was just about to roll her eyes… but stopped. “...You actually have a point.”

Morgan blinked. “...I do? I thought I it was just mostly a joke that led us onto a conversation...”

Trixie took a deep breath, before pushing on. Morgan’s leaps of logic can be so… aggravating, sometimes. “Just tell Trixie the shortest song you know. Trixie is curious and wants to see if anything happens.”

Morgan nodded, scratching his head while he thought. After a moment he looked at me and snapped his fingers. “Princess of the Night!”

Trixie cringed. She did not care to be reminded of that...nag. “Seriously, Morgan. You know what I think about Luna…”

Morgan shrugged. “Do you know of any other songs not even a full minute?”

Trixie put her head in her hooves and groaned. “...Fine. But you know it’s a duet, right? Trixie refuses to sing the part of Luna and Twilight…”

“...I thought you liked Twilight?”

Trixie’s ears fell. “...Trixie went on the run after Twilight got backstabbed by Discord, OK?” Trixie’s eyes drifted to her horn. “...Trixie never got a chance to show her up. Or… even say goodbye. Trixie is just… conflicted about that.”

My eyes fell on the floor. “And I actually miss them… Crazy, huh?”

Morgan quickly scooted over and gave me a hug. I returned it and leaned against him.

“...Hey,” he said. “Edith got whatever happened to… me, as well, right? I must admit I’m not certain how different she might be, but…”

“...It would be nice to meet my rival again…”

I saw Morgan smile in the corner of my eye. “You know? I’ve always admired that about you…”

“...What?”

“Most would have seen those wings and horn... and just given up on the spot. But you pressed on. Against what many would consider a goddess trained under the mistress of the sun… and you still held her as your personal goal post of who to surpass...” He patted me gently on the side. “Don’t you ever stop having that type of ambition, you hear? It’s one of your finest qualities and don’t you dare forget it.”

A small smile twitched into life on my lips. “...Do you think I could have done it?”

Morgan patted me on the back. “Trixie, Twilight is scary. Remember how bleeding Spike entered her life? And it might have been with that amulet, but you still made her resort to trickery. As far as I’m concerned… you already have.”

A smile tugged at Trixie’s lips… but she simply had to shake her head. “Thank you, Morgan… but the damn thing was wearing me. It wasn’t my victory…”

Morgan looked uncertain. “...Fine, but only because you said so.” He stroked his chin. “What do you suppose happened to the thing, anyway?”

Trixie hesitated for a moment, then gave a shrug. “...Trixie knows it ended up with Zecora… but that’s it. She might have tied it to a stick and used it as a back scratcher, for all Trixie knows… or cares.”

“Just saying, a power booster that only you yourself can take off… Sounds like a decent enough thing to try if your back is against the wall anyway…”

Trixie couldn’t stop herself from shivering.

Morgan grimaced. “Sorry, sorry… It was just theoretical, anyway…”

“Don’t worry, Morgan. Trixie understands…” Trixie forced a smile. “How about we get on with those two tests?”

Morgan cleared his throat and swept an arm towards me as invitation to begin…

Trixie took a deep breath and started drawing in the local magic, letting it sweep her away… Trixie couldn't even remember the last time she’d performed a musical number, but it was just one of those things you never forgot the feel off…

And Trixie paused, as it did feel different… but Trixie couldn’t put her hoof on how. She was certain it was different, but her memory was too fuzzy to say how…

Trixie ended up just shrugging mentally. It felt different, but it didn’t feel bad. Buck, for all Trixie knew it might simply be how rusty she is…

Well, no time like the present to fix that.

Trixie started bobbing her head… and grinned wide as the magic responded and the proper notes started filling the air.

Trixie just had to grin. Trixie’s still got it.

Morgan grinned almost as wide, his foot stomping the beat…

Trixie reared, throw her hooves in the air and sang.

[Buy some apples!]

Trixie couldn’t help herself and used an illusion to ‘conjure’ the armor of nightmare Moon… and a dunce cap. Morgan visibly had to bite back a laugh.

[Buy some apples!]

[Buy some apples!]

Morgan sang ‘Twilight’s’ part decently, but it was clear to Trixie he wasn’t actually part of the magic in the way Trixie was at the moment… still, he put the words in the right place and that was enough to keep it going.

[Buy some apples!]

[Buy some apples!]

[Buy some apples!]

[Buy some apples!]

[Buy some apples!]

Morgan was getting into the swing of it, and throw his arms out a flourish at the next bit.

[Buy some apples!]

Suddenly Trixie felt the magic surge and before she could stop herself…

[Buy some ap-]

“Ugh,” Trixie groaned as she came to. “My bucking head…”

Trixie slowly scrambled to her hooves, looked up…

Only to see her old wagon.

“What the buck…?”

It was night, but even in the gloom Trixie could see the familiar library forest. There were odder things and creatures present, but most of the place was taken up by the trees. Living and growing bookshelves that acted as both guards and nest for the flocks of books that flittered from shelf to shelf…

An odd place to be sure… but Trixie simply couldn’t help but smile a little at the sight.

Now, the part of where Trixie was not that hard to figure out… but what was she doing back in Morgan’s mindscape? Trixie never dispelled the projection…

Trixie looked around at the tiny ‘clearing’ among endless bookcase trees reaching towards the heavens that marked her corner of the mind…

She looked up, just to be sure... but only saw the glittering sea of stars and radiant moon she had grown accustomed to..

Yes, she was definitely back... but how?

And why was the place so subdued? Normally there were books flying everywhere and all sorts of ‘figments’ and memories flickering about… but at the moment, the place was completely still.

“Trixie? You OK?”It came from nowhere and everywhere, as Morgan projected a conscious thought at Trixie.

Normally it would have made the entire ‘world’ quiver slightly in resonance, but even that felt subdued…

“Yes, Morgan. Trixie is alright,” Trixie said out loud. Morgan gave a relieved sigh that made the whole place tremble in response to the released tension, but Trixie just willed herself to remain standing. “...But what the buck happened?”

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it, Trixie.” Morgan hesitated for a moment… but only one. “You somehow did the ‘Talking load should do the trick!’ part in the actual royal voice. The head of your avatar just popped like a balloon.”

“...You’re kidding,” was all the response Trixie managed.

A humorless chuckle echoed among the shelves...

Then it continued straight onto near hysterical sobs.

The books squabbles and fidgeted deeper into their shelves, as a warm and salty rain started falling.

Trixie did her best to project a feeling of calm. “Shhh, Morgan. I’m fine, you don’t need to cry like that…”

The rain stopped, as Trixie more felt than heard Morgan took a deep breath.“...I’m sorry, but…”

A tremor Trixie thinks was the result of a shiver raced through the place.

“...You just went… pop.”Morgan projected, sounding much more reserved than usual. “I could still feel you, but you wouldn’t answer and…”

Trixie hushed him. “Give me a moment, I’m coming out again…”

“Don’t reappear in the computer room, trust me.”

Trixie hesitated. “...That bad?”

Trixie could actually feel how Morgan was beginning to calm now that she was once more talking with him. There was even a gentle breeze now, making the pages of some of the books flutter. Some of them even began preening, looking completely relaxed on their shelves.

“A water balloon filled with… huh. A clear slime that is slowly evaporating into nothingness… Is that what I think it is?!”

“Ectoplasm, yes…”

The moon grew a bit brighter, and the breeze warmed a few degrees in tact with Morgan’s mirth..”...Taking the ghost routine a bit seriously, are we?”

Trixie chuckled slightly at that. “Morgan, let me make a new one and Trixie will explain face to face, OK?”

Trixie didn’t waste more time and instead started weaving the complex spell…

The place grew still again, but this time from Morgan giving Trixie his complete attention. The sudden if subtle mental pressure was a bit distracting, but nothing Trixie could not handle.

Then Trixie remembered something, making her spell die before it could even become more than a tiny glimmer on her horn. “Morgan, one thing.”

“..Yes?”

“Trixie isn’t certain how much you can feel of it, but never, ever do the first part of this spell. It’s dangerous.” Trixie made sure there was a edge to her voice when she said the words. “Trixie is not bucking kidding. Unless you get her permission to try you are not even to think about it, got it?”

There was a strange sensation as if the world itself had rolled its eyes at Trixie. It was as infuriating as it was nauseating. “Trixie... I am a bit weird, not stupid. You didn’t need to say more than that it is dangerous… but care to say how?”

Trixie just had to smile at the note of concern in the last part… “It’s called ‘Silent Blade’s Leaching, it’s a spell to drain the magic of an area and add it to your own…”

“Ah,” Morgan ‘said.’ “I take it that magic overload without being able to actually release it in a surge is somewhat unpleasant?”

Trixie fought down a shiver at the memory of the illustrations Luna had shown her to convince her that it was not a spell to be trifled with. “Yes, yes it is…”

Magic might need quite a bit of coaxing to kill… but sometimes it makes you wish it didn’t.

“Got it. I take it you using it in my mind is how you're tapping into my magic? Does that make a difference in the risks?”

Trixie puffed her chest out. Trying that spell had been a brilliant idea, even for Trixie!

A ghostly sigh echoed through the stacks, making some of the more skittish books take to the skies. “Trixie…”

Trixie’s ears flicked in irritation. “Any risk would be to me. And since Trixie is fairly certain she cannot die as longs as you do not will it…”

Another shiver made the place shake. “Please don’t say stuff like that…”

“Sorry,” Trixie said, feeling a bit guilty. “Trixie should have put it better…”

“Glad to hear it…” Morgan ‘said’ sounding a bit more chipper than what actually sounded realistic. “But can you do your thing soon? The others are starting to give me worried looks…”

Trixie didn’t need more prodding than that.

Trixie tilted her head back, gathered the necessary energy…

And then started to let it go, but still keeping a connection to it. It was a bit draining, but worth it.

To untrained eyes it would look simply as if Trixie was standing by her wagon with a glow not actually doing anything…

Anybody with training would by now be running for the hills, as the slight tint tint to the local magic would scream to them that they were in the presence of a true master… or a suicidal fool.

Either way, a show best watched from afar.

A glow started filling the entire clearing, strong enough to be visible even for untrained eyes. Trixie had to concentrate completely on the task…

...Trixie took the luxury of allowing herself a tiny gulp.

Complete concentration… and that was with the next best thing to a Genius Loci that wanted Trixie to succeed on hand. And in his very center of power, at that.

...Trixie hated to admit it, but on this point Luna had been correct. This was not a spell to be trifled with.

And to even use it properly, you needed enough focus to cast a second spell simultaneously.

...I hated to admit it as well, but I’d… gone far from being that arrogant show-mare.

A sigh forced itself out of me, as I started to weave the yet unnamed spell. I only it had been because of me, rather then my bucking pedigree…

I had to resist a urge to grit my teeth as my perspective lurched and shifted to the recording room.

Damn that mare. Damn her for making me feel special… only to then tell me why like fucking that.

I took a deep breath to center myself. That wound was old. Picking on it would only make it fester more deeply.

Luna simply wasn’t worth it, one way or the other.

I opened my eyes and… actually had to fight back a few tears, my earlier grief almost forgotten.

The room wasn’t much. A sofa, a table, a screen, a few tripods for cameras…

Hesitatingly, I floated over the controller Morgan had left behind earlier to my own grip. It felt… surreal, to finally get my own chance to actually hold one of the things. It was bulkier than I’d expected, but lighter at the same time. I gingerly pushed a button with my other hoof. That to, felt surreal.

...And completely wrong in combination with hooves, interestingly if expected enough. I gently floated it back to its place.

I couldn’t help myself, and jumped up into the sofa. It protested a bit even with the illusion no doubt being lighter than my real self, but it held.

I just sat there and… drank in the place for a moment. It was so strange to be in a place for the first time I’d years of happy memories from.

I heard the door click open, but I just felt to… nostalgic to care much.

Tim of all that might have done it sank down next to me. “...So, you’re back. How are you feeling?” He asked.

“...Did I really go ‘pop’?”

Tim made a disgusted face, and shifted his weight around a bit. “...We heard it all the way to the cafeteria. Both the song and the… pop.”

“...Ew.”

He jerked a thumb backwards over his shoulder. “...You want to inspect the damage before the mess fades completely? Might be useful info for a Mark Two…”

“...Trixie must admit… Spellcraft usually doesn't work like that, but then again Trixie has gotten quite another perspective on things thanks to this world…” Trixie rubbed her head, thinking it over. “...Can’t hurt. If nothing else, Trixie might be able to dispel the… chunks. Should make cleanup easier.”

Tim nodded absently, staring off into space.

“...Is everything alright?” I asked. “...I don’t want to pry, but… Well, you're sitting next to your friends imaginary friend and you seem to be distracted by other matters…”

He hesitated, before looking my straight in the eye. “...You and Morgan…” Then he drifted off, at a loss for words.

“...Yes?”

This just wasn’t like Tim. He looked like he didn’t know if he should laugh or cry… and had something on his back, weighing him down.

A strange inkling of a suspicion snaked through my head… But surely not, right? That can’t be it, right? “...Do you have anything you would like to tell Trixie?”

Tim went as still as a corpse.

No…

I took several deep breaths, just not to scream at the top of my lungs. If this really was… another survivor and I’d known his or her host for years…

Let’s say property values would probably go down from the amount of times I’d be banging my head against walls alone.

Tim sagged. No better word for it. Like a piece of starched cloth that had gotten wet. “...I… thought I had two guardian angels…”

...Wait, what?

I gently put my hooves on his nearest hand and squeezed it gently. “...Tell me.”

He poked his temple with the index finger on his other hand. “...You know my headaches? They mean well, but they’re loud. I don’t think they're… exactly normal.”

I raked my brain, trying to figure out who… but I didn’t like the only names that came up that might fit that description and have a reason to cling together. “...Is it…?”

That actually made Tim bark out a laugh. “I’m fairly certain if it was the Royal Sisters… then they would have just told me.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. My grief with Luna aside… I don’t think my friend’s mind would have survived that merger. No matter how shiny and promising the drop of inc was… I just couldn't imagine it doing much to two oceans.

He ran his free hand through his hair. He just… looked old. I hoped it was the stress of confiding this, rather than anything else. “...I’ve asked their names, but… they claim they don’t have any. ‘Only titles’ whatever that means…”

I got a lump in the pit of my stomach. This was starting to sound more and more like… Well, hardly guardian angels. “...What titles?”

Tim blinked. “...Oh, son of a…” He gave me a awkward smile. “...Never thought to ask that. Never cr-” He stopped mid sentence and gave off a wince. I saw how his nosebleed started up again, but it seemed as if… he was listening to something.

...I wanted to think it was somepony, but I just couldn’t bring myself to even think it.

Then off all things…

Tim let out a strained laugh that frankly didn’t sound sane… and then he facepalmed.

“...Care to explain that reaction?” I simply had to ask.

He mumbled something into his hand that I couldn’t quite catch.

I freed my hoof and jabbed him in the shoulder. “Come on. Spill it. If you have some manner of cosmic horror in your head… the sooner I hear those titles, the sooner I can do something to help...”

I had to admit, I’m not sure what… but I’d be damned before I let a friend be lost to something like that without trying every damn trick in my arsenal.

“...The Headless Horse and The Olden Mare.”

I tilted my head. “...What?”

He leaned back and gave me an irritated glare. “You heard me. Apparently I’m destined to become a PG rated Freddy Krueger.”

Trixie gave him a glare of her own. “Tim, nightmare’s walking the real word is no laughing matter. You sure about those names?”

“Titles.”

“Whatever!”

He shrugged. “They’re adamant about it.”

Trixie took a deep breath and put her head in her hooves. “...Please, let Trixie think.”

Tim leaned against the armrest and kept silent. Good.

I started massaging my temples, trying to remember what… Luna had told me about the subject.

...Next to nothing. A brief mention of the rare occurrence being nasty, and nothing more... Because the subject disturbed her. Damn that mare. How the hell can somepony with that amount of power be so damn shortsighted?

I did remember one thing though… I looked at Tim. “...You sure there’s two? Nightmare’s strong enough to have a will of their own are supposed to be fiercely territorial…”

He tilted his head to the side, ‘listening’ again. “...The Olden Mare says: We like each other. Deal with it.”

I rubbed my temples again. “...Really?”

“I quote,” Tim continued. “‘Did you expect something about shoes and rust, little show mare?’” Tim’s brow creased, before continuing. “‘...We’re both ex toys of that nag. Surely you can understand wanting a life outside her considerable shadow?’”

I took a deep breath… and carefully honed my magic sense. It was… a ghost of a ghost, little more than a vague colored outline in the air behind Tim... but I saw them.

The Headless Horse was just… lounging in the air over Tim’s left shoulder. Her coat a purple almost dark enough to be black, aside from two lighter streaks in her tail. As large as her name implied, but… it was as if she was far away, and yet hanging over Tim’s shoulder. One hoof folded over the other, as if laying in the grass while watching a interesting show without a care in the world. She, naturally, had no head, but I still got this sense she was staring right at me. It was an interesting contrast actually. Aside from the obvious, she was… beautiful, no words to mince about it. Healthy looking, strong, hooves that were thick enough to speak about earth pony heritage, but slim and graceful enough to look as if they belonged on a unicorn...

Her empty neck leaned slightly in a grim caricature of somepony tilting their head. There was nothing cute or cuddly about that bit. I caught a glimpse of the jagged ends of muscles and the gaping holes of her windpipe and esophagus before she leaned back again… and spoke.

“My, DeAr LoVe...I tHinK sHe MaY sEe Us…”

The sound was… grating, even at the volume of a whisper. I could most definitely sympathize with Tim, if this was what he had to listen to each time she tried speaking.

Tim mostly looked confused. “...What’s going on? I can almost hear them, but…”

I raised my hoof. “Shh. I’m pushing my magical awareness enough that I can see and hear them. Please, let me concentrate…”

Tim actually looked relieved at that. “Please, take your time. I’m certain they mean well, but… they’re a bit overwhelming. Somebody beside me for them to talk to would… be very nice.”

The Olden Mare was over his right shoulder, in a similar position to The Headless Horse. She had, interestingly enough, chosen to disregard most of the ‘uniform,’ only keeping the black tattered cloak.

“So she does, so she does… Intriguing.” She chuckled merrily, sounding more like a approving and proud aunt, then... Death. A single red eye looked down on me, looking… gentle of all things. “You’ve come far, little Bellatrix. Your so called mistress should be proud…”

Her voice was… normaler, but not by much. It had this strange aftereffect to it, an ethereal echo I would probably have missed if I hadn’t been pushing my senses as far as I was. It was as if the magic of the room slightly resonated in tune with her when she spoke.

I fought down a urge to bolt. There was two ponies I knew of that had that effect on the local magic field… and I really didn’t want to find out just how much else The Olden Mare had in common with her creator.

“...Nopony has called me that since I was seven.” I knew it was a bit… lame, but it was the only thing to say that crossed my mind.

She chuckled again, making her white mane bob a little. “Sounds about right. Forgive me, Trixie. I simply don’t get out much nowadays… Not like in the… old days, at least...”

I gulped. About seven… That… that did sound about right.

She held up and looked at one of her gray hooves. A hoof I noted, that had a shiny new shoe on it. She smiled softly at the sigh. “You will need to take our word for it… but we have no quarrel with this world. Quite the opposite, in fact.” Tim was leaning back, pretending to be asleep. She leaned down and… petted him on the head, her eyes tender. “Our only interests are to keep our sweet little ward here safe, and to remain free of that nag’s influence. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The Headless Horse looked on. I could hardly read it in her face, but something in her posture told me she… approved. “A wOrLd Of ChAnGe, AnD cHaNgEd We HaVe… HoPe As AlWaYs FoR bEtTeR, bUt TiMe ShAlL tElL…”

“...That’s it?” Was all I could think about to ask.

“...I really hate hearing half a conversation…” Tim muttered.

Both of the… nightmares looked sad at that. The Olden Mare stroked Tim’s head again, but more… gently this time.

As… sad as the sight was, it did convince me that… they were being genuine. It just didn’t look like it was an act aimed at me.

The Olden Mare let out a sigh. “...Hopefully his new form will be more capable of hearing us.”

The Headless Horse let out a sigh of her own, if with a more… gurgling quality to it. “...HoPe So. NoT sUrE iF i MaY tAkE iTs AlTeRnAtIVe, BuT hOpE i HaVe…”

“...What are you talking about?”

“...That’s what I’d like to know…” Tim muttered to my question, looking irritated.

Once more, the sadness.

I thought about it. Me and Morgan… but not being able to talk with even him, without risking damage?

I never thought I’d feel it for two nightmares that specializes in frightening foals… but I pitied them.

I gathered magic to my horn… and cast a simple illusion.

To me, nothing much changed… but Tim jerked back as if slapped. Staring near unseeingly towards the ceiling.

In an instant all the joviality of the two were gone, and instead they were glaring at me. The room near darkened as The Headless Horse growled at me. The Olden Mare was more restrained, even if I swear I felt heat on my face from her gaze. “...What. Did. You. Do?” She forced out from behind clenched teeth.

For a moment, i wondered if they had enough strength to affect the waking world… Not like it would matter. There is only so many nights you can wake screaming before your
mind snaps like a rotten twig.

The atmosphere was tense, risking to become outright violent at any moment…

Right up until Tim reached up, and pulled both of them into a tight hug.

For a moment, all was still… then the duo hugged back.

...Can’t say I’ve had many of them, but I recognized a tender family moment when I saw it. “Should last an hour or two. Just ask again if you want me to redo it…” I said as I rose to leave and give them some privacy.

“...Thank you.”

“...MaNy ThAnKs…”

I awaited a similar sentiment from Tim, but he was seemingly at a loss for words

The big, goofy grin I caught sight of while heading out told me everything, anyway.

“Wait.”

The Olden Mare’s voice called me back, just as I had my hoof on the doorknob.

She gave the stunned Tim a quick peck on the cheek, before freeing herself and bouncing over to me in something between levitating and jumping.

She came to a stop right in front of me. “Your ward is as wise and clever as he is broken, Trixie. I thought you should know.”

I fought down the irritation at the ‘broken’ comment. It might be right, but it was hardly nice to remind me off it. “...Yes? What do you mean?”

She waved a hoof, and an image simply was in the air. A combination of her own power to shape things imagined and my illusion, no doubt.

The window showed what almost looked like a dark sky, with clearly illuminated white clouds somehow containing stars. Unlike the fascinating glimpse of a similar place the show had given me however, these clouds billowed as if caught in a eternal storm. The whole place was like that. Wheres the one in the show, and presumably the one ‘in’ Equestria was still, this one raged. The stars seemed to not gently light up the dark, as much as they fought it off. The clouds were not gentle refuges from the day, but these angry wisps that raced across the void. Even the dark of that seemed… hungrier somehow.

And it wasn’t empty. Hundreds, no, thousands, perhaps even hundred of thousands of ponies hung in the air. Most of them seemed to be asleep, but I saw some poor bastards that… wouldn’t wake, to put it in a milder term.

The more I looked, the more tiny specks I saw. And they weren’t even only ponies. A few dragons, some gryphons… Heck, I even saw what seemed to be a group of sea ponies in the distance.

What caught my eye, aside from the place itself however, was the Changelings. For every three, four colored specks on this sky, there seemed to be a black one with holes. I guess a certain bastard didn’t care for competition in his toy box, because I even saw Queen Chrysalis herself floating nearby.

...The strangest thing about that… was her smile. As if she was having a pleasant dream she didn’t care to wake from.

“The fool thought to keep us in cheek with dreams and sleep,” The Olden Mare smugly said to my side, but I barely heard her. “But it pleases me that we were not alone in our… wake, so to speak.”

The image shifted, as if moving rapidly. “My love and I are quite good at walking between the worlds that aren’t quite real. Even this is no exception…”

It came to a halt… showing what…

What was left of me.

Gall rose in my mouth. I’d tried to forget, I’d really had…

It was more… correct to say that it was Morgan’s body. A… deal is a deal, after all.

For all the good it would do both of us.

M- Her body was mangled. Jagged spikes of bone poking out of her legs in far to many places for there to be much hope of them ever working again, her jaw twisted enough that it was clear she might never speak, a horrible gash on her trunk that had…

I blinked, as my eyes recognized what they were seeing. What looked like magic had been forged into a thread, and used to stitch the wound closed. It had even healed partly.

I turned from the grim scene, giving The Olden Mare a look. She just gave me a nod. “Our wards are friends. We have done what we can, but her wounds were grave and… she rests uneasy because of them.”

The Headless Horse spoke up. “ShE sTiRs SoMeTiMeS. OnE oF fEw ThAt DoEs.”

My eyes drifted back to… the scene, and I forced myself to look closer. The glowing silvery thread the two had made was actually a stark contrast to her sapphire blue pelt… but I simply hadn’t looked that closely. Most of the tended wounds were minor, no more than scrapes… but a few like the tear in her trunk was massive.

“In truth, we were quite surprised when your ward met ours. We have tried to tend them all, but… We are but two and… there are so many…”

“MiLlIoNS. FoR aWhILe, We ThOuGhT ThEy WoUlD oUtNuMbEr ThE sTaRs…”

My eyes drifted to one of the corpses. An earth pony mare with green mane and a light brown pelt, her cutie mark a topaz that still glimmered softly in the light. She looked mummified, but other then that the only thing wrong with her was that her right foreleg was missing at the shoulder.

The Olden Mare let out a sad sigh. So strange, for one patterned after one of the faces of Death to care so much… “...Sometimes despite our tending and the paradoxical kindness of this demiplane, they just… fade. We now think we know why…”

“LiKe YoUr ClEvEr WaRd SaId. ThEiR ‘lIfE sUpPoRt’ hAs… FaIlEd. ThE oNe LiNk To LiFe ThEy HaD, sEvEreD...”

“...Yes,” The Olden Mare said, as the view shifted slightly. It showed a… graveyard of a sort. No caskets or anything, but in this place the corpses laid in neat rows. The same silver thread used for surgeries formed into ropes, and tied into letters spelling names and dates. “We have… sadly fallen behind in this. The living simply require more at the moment.”

I scanned the… rows, trying not to linger on the names. Like the earlier mare, they were remarkably well preserved. Despite the whipping of the clouds, the air around them was still. As if even the wind of this place respected the dead.

...A strange insight came to me. Somehow I knew that that wasn’t it. The place respected these people because they had been robbed of their chance to fight their fate. They had been thrown into this place, and left until… this had happened. No escape, no chance to break free, no foe to best…

Just a endless, peaceful slumber.

I shook my head to clear the strange thought… only to get a strange impulse the place found me fighting its influence off amusing. Even so, no more ‘insight’ came to me.

The Olden Mare was giving me an interested look, so I hid my moment of… whatever that was by taking a closer look at the graveyard…

They were mostly intact but many had, just as the mare, pieces missing. A ear here, an eye there, a neat scar that never had the chance to heal over a organ in other places...

“:..Is that why some have… bits missing?” I forced myself to ask. “...Emergency surgery?”

The Olden Mare nodded.

A mental image formed. Two, if not the two, of the oldest and strongest nightmares of my world performing surgery. Hooves turning into razor claws, only to carefully cut away what couldn’t be saved…. The two flowing between targets faster than a pony could gallop… to aid as many as they could… Grim, bloody claws tearing organs out… so that somepony else would live...

Like the two themselves, there was a strange contrast in it. The kind and civilized, set against the cruel and savage.

“...We suspect your ward is right. Perhaps being half awake in such a place offers insight? If so, our work was probably unneeded and the merger will repair such things…” The Olden Mare looked thoughtful. “...Still, we would rather not risk something like that.”

She tilted her head, as if listening to a voice only she could hear. “...Ah, speak of the devil, as the local saying goes…”

The view shifted again, showing a pegasus with black fur and a striped mane. I vaguely recognized his cutie mark, a storm cloud with a single bolt under it, but I couldn’t place him or it. A fan that had caught my eye? A ‘background’ pony that had done the same? Either way irrelevant, but I couldn’t help but wonder it for a moment.

Unlike most of the inhabitants that were as still as the corpses they floated side by side with, he was trashing.

I had to take a step back and nearly puked, as I recognized why.

His cutie mark dimmed… and slowly faded away. For only a moment, his eyes opened and he cried out in alarm. Something about “No, not her!” but his voice was so unused and cracked I couldn’t make any details out. Then, like a light-bulb being turned off, his eyes fluttered closed again… and he went still once more.

“...What… was that?” Tim asked, taking my words out of my mouth.

“First sign of a awakening,” The Olden Mare simply stated. “The other parts goes later…”

“Intriguing,” Morgan said next to me, making me nearly jump out of my skin. “but what about organ rejection?”

I turned my head around. The others had gathered outside the now open door I hadn’t even heard open. Even the one’s like Mrs. Smith that had no doubt been waiting for and preparing for the poker game. The thin, tall woman was not somebody I’d spent much time with, but I respected anybody that made others smile as often as she did…

Right now, she wasn’t smiling… Granted, she wasn’t frowning either, but she was clearly tense.

...But considering how Mr. Smith held her hand hard, I turned back. It seemed he was handling helping her handling it.

The Olden Mare was smiling at Morgan. For a moment, I felt a jab of jealousy, but I fought it down. “No.”

The image reshaped again, showing… one of the surgeries. The mare with the topaz mark from earlier but looking… fresher, and a royal guard still dressed in the bent and smashed ruin of his golden armor. As we watched, a gigantic grey dragon’s claw started cutting away the foreleg of the dead mare. The claw wasn’t even attached to anything, it just faded away into thin air.

...The strangest thing was that it was… almost gentle. The minimum amounts of cuts needed, and what I guessed to be The Olden Mare even took time to clean of the blood after the limb was free.

A silvery nimbus covered it, and it floated over to the guard. He twisted in mid air, showing how his foreleg was this twisted mess of ruined flesh only held together by… his armor.

It took me a moment to recognize the type of armor. because it wasn’t the type normally used. No, this was the older, more completely covering type intended for actual war, not the light guard and policing duty The Royal Guard normally dealt with.

The silver glow enveloped the armor, folding it open as if it was tinfoil. The gray claw dragged a single talon through the top of it, before letting the… mess drift away.

The guard didn’t even twitch.

Quickly, so fast I almost lost track of it, the foreleg was pressed against the guard. Silver threads formed, and started darting in and out of the leg and shoulder, binding them together.

No sun was visible in the place I now more than suspected was this Earth’s magic field made real. I didn’t know much about those kinds of demiplanes, but I knew they are important in how cutie marks functions, and even ascensions… Even so, a shadow formed and passed over the limb. When it had gone over, the foreleg was not only attached, but identical to the one presumably lost.

Why the heck had Discord stuck everypony in such a place?

In the memory, the now whole stallion started drifting away. Perhaps it was my imagination, but it seemed as if he now had fewer hard lines on his face.

“Is that satisfactory an answer, Morgan?” The Olden Mare asked with a proud smile.

“...Is that possible on this plane? Or is a… what did you call it? A demiplane? Is one of those needed?”

She gave him a sad shake. “In places nearly unreal such as that, my love and I can change things…”

“...Like a lucid dream?” Abraham asked.

“ExAcTly.”

“A pity.” Was Morgan’s simple reply. “Perhaps a way to enter such places may be made? Still, that is a long term project if I ever heard of one…”

A soft pat I recognized as a mass of hands being slapped against faces sounded across the room.

Abraham let out a sigh. “Morgan… The two most infamous nightmare’s of ponykind are showing us their slideshow of gory surgery pictures… Can you please focus?”

“I am focused. That nifty trick of theirs could unmake any problems with organ rejection!”

Both The Olden Mare and The Headless Horse let out laughs in perfect tandem that made my skin crawl.

The Olden Mare gave Morgan a big, warm, genuine smile. “We do so enjoy a man with prejorites… and a strong stomach.”

“InDeEd. HiS nIghTmAreS aLwAyS tAsTe So... InTeReStInG.”

The Olden Mare let out a longing sigh, and licked her lips. “Like the one last month with the piles of maggots walking around in brides dresses, trying to eat him?”

“Or ThE oNe LaSt HaLlOwEeN, wHeRe HiS cOnSoL tRiEd To PlAy HiM?”

Morgan let out a thoughtful sound, completely uncaring about the odd looks he was getting. “...I don’t remember having a single nightmare for years by now… Should I say thank you, or was the meals enough?”

The Headless Horse let out a disturbingly girlish giggle. “AnD sO pOlIte…”

“Not needed… but a kind gesture child. You are quite welcome.” The Olden Mare gave her partner a strange look. “...But shall we spoil it for them, or is it more amusing that they find out for themselves?”

The Headless Horse started clapping excitedly, like a foal seeing something neat. “Oh! Oh! Do It! OuR fRiEnDs TeArS wIlL bE dElIcIOuS!”

I heard a few gulps, but Morgan just chuckled. “I like these two!”

“Morgan. The rest of us don’t have a death wish. Stop encouraging the nightmares made manifest.” Mrs. Smith snapped at him, as she ran a thin hand nervously through her black hair.

Morgan gave the woman a salute. “Yes, Sir!”

“Morgan, I’m serious.”

Morgan deflated. “Fine. But I’m betting that if they or Tim had grief with us… We’d already known it.”

The Olden Mare chuckled. “Clever, clever child…”

Morgan nodded towards the image. “Besides, I’m feeling a bit generous with the good will considering that. Nothing forced them to act as custodians in that manner.”

I nodded, showing my agreement.

The Olden Mare smiled proudly, and The Headless Horse near glowed with pride. Tim just let out a chuckle, looking proud on their behalf.

Edith cleared her throat in the back of the group. “...I must admit, I’m still reeling a bit from… the real real ponies thing, but…”

“YoUr DaUghTeR's DaUghTeR lIvEs.” The Headless Horse volunteered in her voice of razors and stripped gears. “ShOw HeR wE wOuLd, BuT sHe Is AlReAdY AwOkEn…”

Edith blinked, and a single tear rolled down her her cheek. She wiped it off, looking… puzzled at it. “...Where?” She asked carefully in a voice almost not a whisper.

“WhAt NaMe Is WoRn By ThE lAnD oF saUsAgE, bEeR aNd OpErA, lOvE? FoRgEt ThE nAmEs I dO. So MaNy LiNeS oN tHe MaPs In ThIs WoRlD…”

“...Ger-mane-y, I believe?” The Olden Mare answered. “I must admit, they tend to blur together a bit for me as well…”

“...Kinda sounds like it,” Mr. Smith volunteered.

Morgan raised a hand. “Before any half cooked plans to run off to Germany are made… Perhaps we should listen to what that ‘spoiler’ these teases want to share? I got the feeling it may be important…”

The Olden Mare gave us all a wicked grin, before waving her hoof and reshaping the image again. “Let’s say… that my love and I take extra care of our friends… and those that have impressed us.”

A shiver snaked down my spine even before I saw the image. A line of ponies, almost like the graveyard from earlier, but…

They were clearly alive, but unlike the stillness of the graveyard… this place was alive with conflict. Star filed clouds billowed under them, as if the plane itself had formed something halfway between a slab and a sick bed. And around them, a wind that was nearly a wall raged. It should have been deafening from the looks of their manes and pelts, but the air was only filled with this strange whisper.

The entire row was resting on those cloud-beds, laying on their stomachs and heads neatly resting on their fore-hooves. It actually reminded me of the tales of warriors sleeping under mountains near every region in Europe seemed to have. Guardians and defenders, just waiting for the horns to call them once more to battle…

And just like that, the sound in the whispers made sense. It was this… strange symphony of hunting horns, clashing steel, cracking guns and shouts. As if some mad dirigent had tried to lead a battlefield’s sounds… only to have it listen. All far away enough you could almost ignore them.

“It is a bit nonsensical in a place without even up or down…” The Olden Mare explained. “...but this is… a Hall of Heroes, you could almost say. This, unlike the other images, is not memory by the way.” Her wrinkled face turned thoughtful. “...And my love and I didn’t make it. It simply… formed a year or two after the… last arrival.”

The room grew silent at that. What stake would this world’s magic have in… us ponies? Troubling…

I started checking the ‘VIPs’ to see what could be learned...

At the far end… Laid actually Queen Chrysalis. Almost unwounded, and unarmed, but she did wear the strange beetle shaped armor of her people. Now that I paid attention to her, she was even wearing the helmet for once. Aside from that… Just the same big, stupid changeling as always. I ignored her, and moved on.

Morgan slash me wasn’t much of a surprise. From the winces from some of the group they must have missed he- hi- our injurious before. “...That certainly explains a few things…” Morgan muttered, a anger in his voice I don’t actually remember when I last heard so strongly before.

Then he barked out a laugh. “And that, certainly explains a few more things,” he said, pointing towards a spot on our trunk. It was hard to make out, but I could just barely…

“...No,” I whispered.

The damn amulet. Still intact. Still around our necks.

Having done Harmony knows what damage for the last twenty-five years.

“...Damn,” Tim exclaimed. “You actually have a cursed artifact to blame for your horrible temper?”

“How’s that for a horrible moral?” Morgan quipped cheerfully. “It’s really not my fault! Mom and dad is going to go spare!”

I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the room pass over me… but I couldn’t do much about it. Morgan liked to joke about stuff that worried him, and he’d just got snappy if you tried to make him stop.

Next was… I almost thought it was a ponified version of Frankenstein's monster. The… thing was near covered in the silvery thread from earlier, despite the merger of tissue the two nightmare’s were capable of in that realm. She I realized as I looked closer was… a artificial alicorn, made by somepony that had only the briefest of concepts of what that implied. Covered in what I suspected was black dragon scales from tail to all three heads, and with two giant dragon wings at her side…

Even without the dual changeling horns jutting backwards from each head in a V, she was a monster.

...But I had to admit, with that silver mane and tail, and a head taller than the princesses? She looked fierce, but I couldn’t help but wonder what she might look like actually walking about. Her lack of a cutie mark was a bit jarring… but she was a pretty monster, no doubt about that bit.

The Headless Horse throw her hooves into the air. “SuRpRiSeS!”

The Olden Mare flashed a proud smile towards Tim. “Happy early twenty-fifth birthday, dear! We hope this makes up for all the ones we’ve missed!”

Tim’s eyes promptly rolled back into his head, as he fainted.

Morgan broke the awkward silence by giving a small clap. “A lovely gift. I’m sure he only needs to get used to it...”

Nobody else said anything.

“Thank you for the kind words,” The Olden Mare said in a slightly sad voice, as Abraham and Mr. Smith hurried to put Tim into a recovery position.

I ignored the drama, and continued to look across the image.

I almost thought the next on the slab was a failed prototype or something… then I realized I was seeing bat wings, not dragon wings. A almost forgotten lesson lurched to the forefront of my mind…Bat wings, hooves that looked sharp and long fangs just jutting out from underside the lips of the white pelted mare. I sucked back a breath, and fought down a curse. “...Is that a vampony lord?”

“...Better question,” Morgan interjected. “Is that freaking Vinyl Scratch?”

I blinked. It was, but I’d almost hadn’t recognized her because her cutie mark was wrong. The note was still there, but it had… electron orbits around it, of all things. “...What the hell happened to her?”

“ShE gAvE tHe LoRd Of ChAoS a BlAcK EyE, bY tEaRiNg BoTh Of ThEm OuT… TwO eYeS, fOr OnE hEaRt LyInG bRoKeN iS fAiR bArGaIn, YeS?” The Headless Horse calmly explained from her spot on the sofa backrest from where she was keeping an ‘eye’ on Tim. She looked almost as cat, once more using her control of her avatar’s size to her advantage. The optical disconnect from something that big and far off being also only a couple of meters away lying clearly over a couch made my eyes water. “ThE cHaNgEs ThOuGh? WrOuGhT bY tHiS wOrLd…”

I and a few others in the room nodded absently. Considering the picture of Equestria’s final days things pointed to… Vampony or no, a lot of people would probably want to shake her hoof just for the attempt at killing the bastard.

Abraham barked out a laugh. “Damn. She actually kept the freaking glasses. How about that?”

I leaned closer to check. He was actually right. They had fallen off her, and was lying next to her head… but they even looked intact.

“...So, any idea what happens to that gear when they ‘wake up?’” Abraham continued. “No skin of my nose, but some of that just screams enchantedplus freaking twelve gear. I can’t help but wonder what we could learn from it…”

“I would also like to know…” Morgan piped up.

The two nightmares giggled, as if sharing a private joke.

We all ignored them, instead inspecting the last members of the ‘hall of heroes.”

“...So freaking called it,” Abraham told Morgan smugly. “You owe me a bag of candy.”

Morgan hummed absently, his focus mostly on the mint green changeling. “...Guess that explains Skyra…”

It took me a moment to make the connection. “...That’s Lyra?”

“Looks like it,” Morgan said. “Can’t see her cutie mark from here, but those colors and that grin? Has to be her.”

And she was indeed grinning. Wide enough that we could see individual teeth.

I had to admit, once I managed to look past the holes and gossamer thin wings… She did look like the mare I’d thrown bits to a few times when she performed… I guess that was the point, but I still felt a chill at never even having suspected it.

“...Aren’t changelings supposed to be black?” Mrs. Smith asked in a careful voice.

“A civilization of shapeshifters, right?” Morgan offhandedly answered. “Probably their version of a military uniform…”

Abraham chuckled. “Well, anyway somepony seems to be having a pleasant ‘dream’...”

Near everybody in the room shared a chuckle at that. If only they know… I’d actually been in her ‘sanctuary’ once. Books, dolls, knickknacks…

I took a moment to absently wonder what that might be like? Turning into your object of obsession… only to turn back again? Still, I could hardly ask the mare, but it was an interesting bit of philosophy...

Next was… Soarin. I blushed slightly. I’d fantasized about that pegasus enough times during this ‘exile’ of mine to recognize him. The sky blue pelt, the dark blue mane… That was the hunk in question, alright.

The Wonderbolt captain was in remarkably good shape. A few tears in his flightsuit, and a lens cracked in his flight goggles… but other then that, he didn’t seem to have a scratch on him.

There was seven more slabs, but only one more was still occupied. The other five presumably already ‘awoken.’

That last one was the Empress of The Crystal Empire herself in full battle gear, but still. Part of me hated to admit it, but even for somepony like me that had had most, if not all illusions of the pegacorns grandeur rubbed away by stuff like seeing Luna comb twigs out of her mane, or Celestia scratch lettuce off her teeth… it was still a damn impressive sight.

She was wearing the heavily decorated armor of the crystal empire’s guards, the only consent to her rank a thin band of gold around her helmet… As if it was needed with the hole for her horn, and the slits added for her wings, but it was… a worrying gesture. The whole thing was made from a silvery metal with a crystal sheen to it I didn’t recognize.

The most disturbing thing was her weapons, though. Near two dozen knives lying in neat rows beside her, a dozen on each side. I even recognized the type, a nasty piece of work called ‘Wizard’s Talon.’ Looking almost like a propeller, with two curved blades instead of a handle. You used them by lifting them in the air with your magic, and spinning them like freaking buzzsaws. The ones at Cadance’s side was nasty ones even by that standard. Small holes strategically placed to make the knives whistle as they zipped around, and judging by the heat haze and slight glow to them they were heavily enchanted as well...

Frankly, I’d pegged her more as the same type of fighter as her aunts. Armored and weighted horseshoes just in case, but primarily reliant on her magic… That she might be more of a scrapper had never even crossed my mind.

As sad as the implications were… Love had clearly sought to make War… And Love had not conquered all things.

I barely dared imagine what the moral damage from that might have been. The others… Sure, a impressive display… but one of the immortal pegacorns not only failing, but actually falling?

“....The other six… Are those the former beds of the Elements?” Morgan asked.

The Olden Mare shook her head. “...Almost, not quite.” With a wicked smile, she pointed a hoof at…

Straight at Edith.

“That crazy old nag?” She continued. ‘The crazy old nag’ herself snorted at the words. “My love and I wasn’t there, but the rumor at the time and what we saw in dreams?” She shook her head, her single eye sparkling. “When Discord claimed Applejack, she almost carved Discord’s kidneys out with a kitchen knife.”

The Olden Mare chuckled at Edith’s shocked expression, as we all gave her a reevaluating look. “You should have seen how both Royal sisters worried so about that. The mortals aren't supposed to be able to do such things, to interfere like that, without aid…”

“GiVeS tHeM… iDeAs,” The Headless Horse chuckled out.

I looked closer again. It was almost lost in the picture, because at the range involved it was only this thin sliver of silver and ruddy brown… but there was a knife on one of the empty slabs. The darn thing was… wrong. Rust danced up and down it, only to be replaced with metal that gleamed as if it was freshly forged. It was subtler, but something similar was happening to the wood of the handle. These thin lines of rot that snaked around in the wood like worms, only to disappear soon after passing.

The way it pivoted slowly around on the very tip of its own blade, as if looking for somepony? Didn’t exactly help matters.

“...I don’t remember,” was the only comment Edith managed to force out. I risked a glance at her. Her eyes were locked on the knife, and I don’t thing she noticed herself… but her right hoof was twitching, as if trying but failing to grab something. I looked away before she noticed.

...Only to notice myself that the damn knife stopped rotating for a second, every time Edith’s hoof twitched.

“Intriguing, right?” Morgan whispered to me. “From kitchen utility to that…”

“Sad,” the more talkative nightmare answered Edith. “A tale and a half, I suspect. Please do share, if it returns…”

Edith gave her a quick nod, before The Olden Mare turned to Morgan. “But yes, the other five were indeed occupied by the Bearers…” A frown creased her face further. “...minus proud Rainbow Dash. We have no idea what befell her.”

Morgan started stroking his chin. “...My genre savviness, AKA my cynicism is tingling. I think I’ve figured it out, but why don’t you just say it? I wouldn’t want to steal you and your lovers thunder…”

“Ah, SwEeT oF yOu, MoRgAn,” The Headless Horse said, approval somehow shining through the other sounds of her voice. “My DeAr, ThE hOnOr I lEaVe FoR yOu…”

Abraham paused in helping a groggy Tim upright. “...What are you talking about?”

Mine and Edith’s ears perked a bit more literally… but I didn’t doubt the same was metaphorically the same with the others.

A slow, terrible smile came to the old mare’s face. “May I ask first, what you thought of seeing… such a room full of heroes? It is hardly every day such a group is… seen.”

The bottom dropped out of my stomach, and I vaguely felt my plot hit the floor. I heard a similar sound from Edith, and a creak of bone as Mr and Mrs Smith held hands hard.

“Just imagine, what such a group might be capable off!” she continued, as the rest of the room was dead silent.

The Olden Mare’s smile grew even wider. “After all, in that place of honor lied all that managed to make the bastard bleed…”

“Or SuFfEr, EiThEr Is A dEeD. He Is ThE FoRcE oF cHaOs InCaRnAtE, dEsPiTe AlL…”

Abraham glared at The Olden Mare. “Just say it.”

With a shrug and still smiling, the old nightmare did just that.

“So, my friends… Tell me, did you enjoy seeing your old selves?”

Author's Note

A bit of trivia.

This chapter contains the name Trixie 291 times.

And finally we're starting to get close to the interesting stuff. Only took me twelve chapters and a hundred and ten thousand words to do so!

Thanks for reading!