On Ponies and Daedric Princes

The summer sun hung high in the sky, and a balmy breeze blew through the trees at the edge of Whitetail Woods. Most would consider it a lovely day, but for one “Great and Powerful” Trixie, it was just another slow, pain-in-the-flank day at her shop. After the Ursa Minor disaster in Ponyville, she had decided that she’d best quit show business while she was ahead. The lost revenue from the damage to her wagon and the severe blow to her reputation had destroyed her showmare career plans, so she settled down between Whitetail Woods and Ponyville and set up a “Great and Powerful Magic Emporium.”

Trixie sighed and rested her chin on the countertop next to her cash register, and ventured a bored glance around her shop. The walls were lined with shelves and costume racks, the shelves stacked high with various different stage-magic items: Flash paper, fireworks, card decks, wands and mirrors. The middle of the shop had a number of displays, featuring high-end fireworks and stacks of how-to books for flashy show magic. Her eyes then wandered up to the large clock on the wall above the front door, a frustrated groan escaping her when she noted the time. Two o’clock and not even a single customer! The only ponies to visit were more Royal Guards pestering her about the disappearance of Twilight Sparkle.

The silver-maned mare huffed and grumbled to herself, “As if the Great and Powerful Trixie would have anything to do with that. As much as I hate her friends, Sparkle didn’t seem all bad. At least she wasn’t heckling me at my show. And it was a year ago! Why can’t they just let me be? She’s probably dead!” She threw her hooves in the air in an exasperated gesture, slumping against the counter again. She’d told the guards all she knew about the incident, which was nothing. Trixie pushed away from the counter and made her way downstairs so she could make a pot of coffee, her anxiety-stricken mind screaming at her for the sweet relief of caffeine.

As her hooves hit the first step, she stopped; what was that shuffling sound? She perked her ears up a little, able to hear the strange noises more clearly. It was a light scraping sound, with an undercurrent of shuffling cloth. Trixie used her levitation magic to pull a broom from the wall at the top of the stairs, keeping the handle at the ready as she descended into the basement, ready to give any intruders a good whack. The sight that greeted her in the dim light of the basement was nothing she would have ever expected. She lost her concentration and dropped her broom in surprise.

Masses of sticky webbing coated the walls in the far corner of the basement, farthest from the light. A thin sheet of the webbing lay stretched between the ceiling and the floor, and in its center laid a horrifying visage that Trixie could have gone the rest of her Great and Powerful life without seeing. A massive creature with a spider’s abdomen and eight spindly legs worked at wrapping up a small creature in webbing with its front legs – above the “waist,” the creature had a slim belly and upper body, and its generous chest was covered in a black corset that shone in the dim light like a beetle’s carapace. The intruder crossed its four arms across its chest and moved the wrapped-up rat aside with its forelegs, smiling sweetly at the horrified Trixie as a light, yet smoky voice escaped its lips. “Ah, at last, the ‘Great and Powerful’ Trixie. I was hoping you would come down soon.” It reached over and lifted up Trixie’s coffee pot, grinning. “Coffee?”

Trixie, of course, didn’t take this encounter very well. She pranced around in place and squinted her eyes shut, squealing in terror as she ran back up the cellar stairs and up to the main floor of her shop, galloping toward the front door. She pulled it open with her magic, only to have it slam in her face just before she reached the doorway. The light in the shop dimmed as the windowpanes frosted over, and Trixie shivered as she watched her breath come out in great, powerful clouds. The floorboards began to quake, and dark masses of shadow began to seethe up from the cracks in the floor, forming into the drider from the basement. “Now Trixie, that is no way to treat a guest.”

The blue-coated Unicorn cowered back from the drider when it materialized in front of her, her mouth agape and her throat unable to loose the scream she so desperately wanted to release. After a few moments of horrified silence, Trixie was finally able to vocalize a pair of questions. “W-who are you? How do you know my name? ”

The drider simply smiled and sipped from a mug of coffee that it’d taken from the basement. “I am the Daedric Princess Mephala, my dear stage pony, and I know far more than just your name,” it stated, its voice low and breathy. “I also know that, while not as strong as the purple Unicorn, your potential for magickal prowess far surpasses many of the other ponies in your land. Which is why, dear Trixie, I am calling on you today. Equestria needs you.”

Trixie simply stared up at the Princess, in all of her chitinous glory, and tilted her head. “W-what? Why does Equestria need me?”

Mephala’s smile dropped a bit, and she waved an arm between the two of them. More shadows seeped up from the floorboards, collecting what was left of the light in the room and forming them into a swirling series of images. The first one was Twilight Sparkle, in a circular, stone room filled with pale blue light emanating from a font of glowing water in the center. A ball of flame jettisoned from her horn and struck a translucent shield that a bipedal creature was casting, sparks and embers burning the stone around them.

“Your friend is learning powerful magicks to overthrow your princesses. According to my agents, she’s tired of being looked down on by her teacher, believes it’s time for the student to surpass the master. Here, have a look for yourself; she’s already started testing her prowess by burning whole settlements of people.” Mephala sighed, and waved her hand again. The shadows and motes of light swirled and reformed themselves into a different set of images: Twilight, her eyes burning with rage, and a flash of light emanating from her horn. After the flash, two dozen bipedal creatures dressed in leather and furs collapsed, their skin bubbling as they appeared to burn alive from the inside-out.

The blue unicorn bit back bile at this atrocity, as there was no doubt this was Twilight Sparkle burning living creatures alive with her magic. Why she was doing this, Trixie hadn’t a clue. “Where did this happen? And do you know why?”

Mephala shook her head, a saddened note darkening her speech. “No, I do not. This unfortunate event happened just outside of Whiterun city in the Skyrim province of Tamriel. My agents are telling me, though, that Sparkle has even taken up learning necromancy. She will stop at nothing to take Equestria’s throne, and if you do not wish for your land to fall into an age of chaos and darkness, she must be stopped. By you.”

Trixie shook her head and sat down, mulling over all this new information in her head. Certainly Twilight wouldn’t commit such atrocities, certainly not for something as petty as jealousy. But it was all laid out in front of her, in moving picture, no less. And it all made sense enough. Twilight wasn’t necessarily the most stable pony in Equestria. “What am I to do about it? I don’t even know where this ‘Skyrim’ is.” Her voice still shook with uncertainty.

The princess simply smiled at the Unicorn as she spoke. “Ah, that is where I come in, my dear. I can send you to Skyrim, and I have a few agents that are adept enough in the ways of magick that they could train you to be just as skilled as miss Sparkle. Now, will you help your people, Trixie? Or shall I find someone else more worthy of being Equestria’s savior?”

Now there’s something to think about, Trixie thought to herself. I could restore my reputation with this, and everypony will love me! The unicorn glanced up at Mephala and quirked a brow. “What about my shop?” She asked, “I have my customers to think about, too.”

“Oh, yes. Your shop is just booming with business, isn’t it?” Mephala asked wryly as she glanced about the room. The shelves were full, as Trixie didn’t get many customers. Not much of a magic market in the Ponyville area.

Trixie blushed and looked at the floor, and a frown crossed her muzzle. “Right… Well, alright, then.” She looked up to Mephala, a confident smirk replacing her down-trodden visage. “I’ll do it. Where do we start?”

The drider grinned and extended one of her arms, her fingers cold as the tundra on Trixie’s cheek. “With sending you to Nilheim.” She whispered. Trixie’s head swam, and she felt the earth disappear beneath her hooves, just before her world went black.

Trixie groaned as she opened her eyes, shaking her head. “W-what happened?” Her lavender eyes danced about in an attempt to register her surroundings. She was outside, that much was confirmed by the icy breeze that cut through her cape and coat of pale blue fur. When the wind died down, she felt the radiating warmth of the bonfire that burned brightly next to her. “Where am I?”

She almost jumped out of her skin when she heard a rustling behind her. “Ye’re in Nilheim, lass. Mistress Mephala tol’ us we’d be getting’ a newbie from a different plane, but…” A burly, bipedal creature with dark skin, and a scrunched-up face and a massive beard said, “we weren’t ‘spectin’ a Unicorn. ‘Specially not one so… Small. An’ colorful. Are ye sure ye’re a Unicorn?” He was clad in bulky, iron armor, and had a large scar crossing diagonally over his face. A sword hung from his hip, and he wore a beautifully engraved shield on his arm. It seemed that the only place on his body that didn’t have hair was the top of his head.

Trixie gawked up at the massive creature, easily the size of a gryphon, and was barely able to muster a response. At least, until his odor reached her nostrils. Her eyes squinted shut as she tried to cover her nose with her forelegs, gagging loudly. “Ugh! When was the last time you bathed? You smell like a wet manticore wrapped up in burning garbage!”

The creature lifted an arm to sniff at his pit, a grimace scrunching his face, his voice a suddenly a guttural growl as he roared at her. “You little snob! I ought’a rip your rude little guts out!” He started to advance on her, his arm shooting out to grab her neck, but the little blue mare ducked and back-pedaled in time to avoid his hand, whimpering all the while.

“Alistair! Stop this barbaric silliness and go sit in your corner!” A voice boomed from the shadowy edge of the camp. Out from the darkness stepped a tall, bipedal creature shrouded in dark-colored robes, his scowling face half-covered by his cloak’s hood. “Go on, get! Or you won’t get any more sweet rolls for the remainder of the season!”

The hulking barbarian groaned and gave the approaching figure a piteous look, then turned on his heel to plod off to another corner of the fire-lit camp, mumbling to himself. The hooded figure’s scowl curved into a smile as he watched Alistair retreat to his own corner of the camp; the mysterious creature then turned to face Trixie, reaching up with bony fingers to pull his hood back from his face. Trixie barely stifled a surprised gasp as she locked eyes with the creature. He had features that Trixie would describe as “colt-ish,” with soft curves to his jawline and cheeks, making him appear a few years younger than he actually was. The creature was quite pale, with sage-hued eyes and blonde hair that dangled past his ears. A smile crept across Trixie’s muzzle as she drank in his features. Perhaps this place isn’t all bad…

“My apologies, miss Trixie. Alistair can be very… obtuse, when he hasn’t had his sugar. I know to treat Mephala’s new Champion with reverence and respect, however. My name is Samuel.” He smiled as he spoke, his voice as light and airy as the lilt of a bird’s song.

Trixie immediately lit up. Perhaps this place really isn’t all bad! She beamed up at him, her hat floating up to her head as she spoke. “Thank you, Samuel! Finally, the respect the Great and Powerful Trixie deserves! Now, your champion requires a hot bath and a warm mug of co─”

Her grin disappeared as an open, gloved hand struck her across the cheek with a smack! She blinked away tears, looking up to the creature through blurry eyes. “That said, I was appointed to be your teacher. Your mentor. I was appointed your teacher because, frankly, Mephala described your magical prowess as severely lacking.” The blonde man glared daggers down at her, his inviting, green eyes suddenly seeming cold and harsh. “As such, this ‘Great and Powerful’ nonsense is going to stop. As will referring to yourself in the third person. Do you know who refers to themselves in the third person?”

Trixie shook her head, visibly shrinking back from the venomous bite in his voice. “Mentally-stunted hedgewizards. I don’t teach mentally-stunted hedgewizards. You will refer to yourself, and myself for that matter, in a proper manner.” He was one step below yelling at her, spittle flying from his mouth as he bellowed.

The Unicorn sat back on her haunches, positively stunned. Wasn’t he being sweet just a few moments ago? What in Tartarus happened? She reached up with a hoof to brush her cheek, now displaying the bright red handprint even through her fur. “B-but, I-”

If looks could kill, Trixie would be dead, buried, dug up, beat with a shovel and buried again. His green hues burnt angry holes in Trixie’s forehead. “I do not tolerate rudeness, nor do I tolerate back-talking. A simple ‘yessir’ will suffice. Am I clear?” He asked, his voice as lovely as a symphony, but retaining the venom of a Manticore sting.

She bit her lip and whimpered, “Y-yessir.” Trixie shivered visibly, her hat slipping down far enough to cover her eyes, and her tears.

With that, Sam reached out and patted the mare’s cheek as gently as he could before striding over to Alistair, looking back over his shoulder as he called out to her. “Your training starts at first light. I suggest you read one of those books on the table behind you and get some rest, before-hand.”

Trixie grumbled as she woke to the sounds of growling and shouting. What was that about wolves, now? Wait. Wolves?!

The Unicorn shot to her hooves and whirled around, just in time to face a wolf that was already mid-leap, headed for her face. She only had time to try to cover her face with her hooves, before she was soaked in a splash of blood. Wait, blood? Trixie slowly opened her eyes and lowered her hooves, blood dripping onto her nose from her now-soaked mane. The wolf lay before her, head cleaved cleanly from its neck. She bit back bile, whimpering and backing into the table behind her, knocking several books from the wooden surface. “B-but…”

Alistair’s hulking, armored figure stood over the wolf’s corpse, taking a moment to wipe blood from his chest piece and his blade. “Shouldn’t sleep out here. Ain’t exactly safe, lass. C’mon, follow me up t’ da tower. An’ bring dem books, too; don’ want some bandit takin’ ‘em in da night.” He sheathed his weapon into his scabbard and kicked the dead wolf, glancing back over to the still-shivering Trixie. “Well? C’mon, then!”

The azure mare glanced back to the book she was reading, hefted it in the lavender shroud of her telekinesis. She followed the armored brute up an incline, sparsely decorated with stairs, until a small stone tower came into view. They crossed a small bridge over the ravine separating the tower from the rest of the landmass, and entered the open doorway, climbing the staircase to the second level, and venturing outside to the stairs that wrapped around the back of the tower. Alistair looked back at Trixie, chuckling as he spoke. “You afraid’a heights?”

Trixie shook her head, holding down her hat against the blustery wind. “Not really, why?”

The brute glanced down and visibly shivered, quickly averting his gaze forward. “No reason,” he explained, “jus’ don’t look down.”

Well, with an explanation like that, who wouldn’t look? So, Trixie glanced down over the edge of the stairs, and immediately back-pedaled up against the wall, her chest heaving with great gasps of breath. They dangled from a not-quite-sturdy wooden staircase, at least one hundred feet above a cliff’s edge. The entirety of the land beneath them was a steep mountainside, and one wrong step meant certain doom. “Lovely view…” The Unicorn carefully made her way up the stairs behind Alistair, entering yet another open doorway. She was greeted by the welcoming sight of a warm fire and several bedrolls, one occupied by a sleeping Samuel. “Oh, sleeping bags. Yay. I’m so glad I left my comfy shop for this…” She grumbled, laying down into a bedroll and curling up, her eyes slowly closing.

Trixie’s dreams were plagued with nightmares. She sprinted through a landscape of deadfall trees and snow, the surrounding landscape glowing a dull blue in the dim moonlight. The blue unicorn weaved between trees as she ran, trying to lose her pursuer in the dense, frozen woods. It was a pointless effort, however. Arcs of white lightning shot past her and singed the trees ahead of her, sparking flames in the dry, brittle wood. Bright orange flames burst from the tree and spread to the dead foliage surrounding her, the heat licking at her as trees began to fall, trapping her in a circle of flame and burning wind. Trixie searched past the flames for her attacker, unable to see past the wall of smoke and orange light; there was a loud crack, and she let out a shriek just before one of the trees toppled onto her.

“No!” The azure mare sprang up in her bedroll, letting out a shrill cry as she snapped back to wakefulness. Her breaths were shallow and shaky as she took a moment to look at her surroundings, content that she’d been removed from the dream. “Sweet Luna, that was horrible.” She rose from her bedroll and stepped out onto the wooden platform outside the room, sitting on her haunches and looking out over the vast landscape beneath the tower and the cliff on which it was perched. Her eyes scanned over the lake to her left, following it to the waterfall, the swift current cascading down the steep cliff, following it to the hot springs at the bottom, then to the mountains off on the horizon. Above, the twin moons of Nirn sat, basked in the lovely green and pink glow of an aurora borealis. The negative thoughts on Trixie’s mind vanished as she focused more on the lovely landscape this strange land possessed. She turned and trotted back inside, cracking open one of the books that Samuel had given her to read. “Necromancer’s Moon… well, this doesn’t sound pleasant…”

Samuel rose from his bedroll and clambered to his feet, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he padded over to his alchemy station to brew himself up a cup of tea. He sipped from the still-steeping brew and turned, noticing the blue Unicorn leaning against the doorway of the tower, her nose in a book. The young mage smiled and walked over to her, his cup steaming in the chilled mountain air. “Morning, Trixie. Sleep well?”

Trixie glanced up to the Necromancer, dark bags under her eyes, her sclera bloodshot. “N-no. You never told me we’d be resurrecting the dead!” The azure mare teared up, biting on her lip. “I don’t want to do this. This is wrong.”

The Necromancer sighed, reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose. “I was hoping to avoid this talk.” He ran his bony fingers through his blonde hair, taking in a deep breath. “Give me just a moment.”

Samuel took a small sip of his morning tea and meandered back to his gear bag, kneeling to remove something from the main compartment. Trixie watched him through slowly drying eyes, unable to suppress a groan as he withdrew yet another book. The mage returned to Trixie’s side and set the book down next to her; its title, written in pretty, gold lettering: Necromancy in the Fourth Age. “I probably should have given you this book, first. Necromancy, in the last few hundred years, has become fairly mainstream. People sell or donate their souls for use in spells, and many people donate their bodies for experiments and spellwork and the like. It’s not necessarily okay to start raising the dead in the middle of town square, but it’s not really something that’ll get you hanged anymore,” he explained, slowly sitting down next to the Unicorn. “The soul gems I use, I buy from dealers who only get their souls from willing donors. It’s not as though the dead would care, anyway; they’re dead. Beyond the mortal coil. Moved on to the next realm. The corpse is just a shell; the person is no longer there.”

The Unicorn looked up at him, listening intently. To be sure, she wrapped up the book in her magic, flipping through the pages and confirming what the mage had just told her; to an extent, Necromancy was legal in Skyrim, and it was common practice to donate your corpse or soul to a college or a magic shop. Well, maybe her business wasn’t dead, then, if worst came to worst. She tried on a tired smile, relenting. “I… Alright. I’ll try it.”

Samuel grinned, and reached over to fluff the Unicorn’s mane, rising to his feet. “Good to hear! Now, the first lesson is going to be channeling and manipulating your magicka into life-energy…”

“No, no, no! You’re doing it wrong! Stop!” Samuel shouted, gently rapping Trixie atop the head with his staff. “You’re trying to make your spell too powerful, and not focusing enough on keeping it stable. Pay attention.”

Trixie stood aside and watched as Samuel stood over one of the wolves that Alistair had killed the night before, her eyes widening in wonder as purple-colored energies swirled about the mage’s fingertips. He seemed so calm, so collected as the wolf’s corpse was wrapped up in the dark energy, rising to its feet and growling menacingly. The Unicorn stepped back, startled by the creature’s sudden reanimation and aggressive attitude. She let out a gasp when, suddenly, Samuel dove forward and slipped a small dagger into the back of the beast’s neck, silencing its growls. No blood poured forth from the wound, and Trixie simply stared, shocked, at Samuel’s actions. The mage slid the small blade back into its sheath and said, “That, Trixie, is how you reanimate a small corpse. If you’d continued the way you were going, you would have lost control of the beast and we would have been attacked. Keep it simple, or you’ll lose control of your spells. Never go beyond your abilities.”

The Unicorn nodded, still stunned at having seen Sam, someone so civilized, someone so intelligent slay another living creature. Though, she thought, it wasn’t exactly living, was it? She swallowed and half-whispered, “A-alright, let me have another go.”

She stepped up to the wolf, focusing her will into a small ball of energy – her mind’s eye conjured an image of a sphere of roiling, purple energy, being held in by a shroud of fog. As she imagined this ball sinking into the wolf and spreading through its body, the small ball of light in front of her did just that, and the wolf’s corpse shuddered. Suddenly, it rose on its four legs, staring at Trixie and growling quietly. The Unicorn opened her eyes, and saw the work she’d done, and shouted. “I did it! I actually did it!” Though, as she hopped up and down in elation, she lost her focus. The wolf lunged at her, only to catch Samuel’s staff in the nose, whimpering and hopping back. It turned to Samuel and snarled, baring its half-rotted teeth, just in time to catch a spear of ice in the side. The creature coughed and slumped, the dim light of undeath leaving its eyes; the mage leaned back against his still-glowing staff and smirked.

“And you still have to keep focus while the reanimated corpse is up – it is under your control, y’know.” Sam’s smug smirk wavered as Trixie slumped back, having experienced one too many shocks today. “Let’s take a break. I’ll make us some tea.” Samuel pulled his hood up over the blonde mop of hair atop his head, turned on his heel, and walked back up the stone steps toward the tower.

Trixie scratched at the side of her head, trying to deal with the culture-shock. Never in Equestria did somepony kill somepony else, or even another creature. Or, at least, it was incredibly rare. Here, it seemed to be a regular occurrence. Well, it would just make this new art easier to perform. Wow, Trixie thought, that was a morbid thought. I really do need some tea.

A few moments passed and Sam returned with a pair of pewter mugs filled to the brim with steaming tea, and offered one to the azure unicorn. She gladly took it, encasing it in her magic energy and holding it before her lips so she could cool it with a quick breath. “Thank you, Samuel. That was kind of you.” She took a sip of the tea, a content smile replacing the look of pensive worry that had been present on her features.

Samuel sipped at his own tea and nodded. “It’s nothing.” The mage sat on one of the tables surrounding the small campfire they had going, and continued to nurse his tea for several moments, completely silent. After a short while, he looked up at Trixie and glanced East, to Riften. “I’m low on supplies; why don’t you join me on a trip to Riften? I need to run by the apothecary and pick up some ingredients and stones.”

The Unicorn took a moment to think about it, and peered over the edge of her mug into Samuel’s dark green orbs. “Your companion didn’t exactly address me as a commonplace thing, when I came to Skyrim. I think going into a place with a lot of people would probably bring me all the wrong sorts of attention.”

The mage nodded, a pensive look on his face. “A fair point, but we could always cast an illusion spell to make you look like man or mer.”

“But I am a mare.” Trixie replied, a confused look on her face.

Sam slapped his palm to his forehead, groaning. “Not mare, mer. It’s the name for the races of elves and orcs. There’s an illusion spell that make you appear as one of us, but it’s quite unstable. There’re quite a few things that would make the spell break apart.” He explained, sitting atop his table.

“Well… Like what?” Trixie canted her head, quirking a brow at the Necromancer.

Samuel pulled his hood back, reaching up to scratch at his scalp. “Well, you can’t go into water. That means no swimming, and no getting caught out in the rain. Try to avoid animals and other mages; they’ll be able to tell you have that illusion going, and that would raise questions. Not to mention, the local cats might not be fond of a unicorn in disguise waltzing around their town.” He took one last sip of his tea, then set his pewter mug down and continued, “Try to avoid being near active illusion spells, as well. That includes street magicians looking for extra coin; the magicka will interfere with your spell, and the results might not exactly work out in your favor. And above all else, do not try to put a hood over any hats you may end up wearing. That will cause the illusion to fail entirely.” He rose to his feet, explaining this last bit with urgency in his voice.

“Why can’t I wear a hood over a hat? I mean, I wouldn’t, because it’s silly-looking. But what does that do to mess up the spell?” Trixie asked, scratching at the back of her head with a hoof, something that still impressed Sam.

“I truly wish I knew. The same goes for wearing more than one ring; completely cancels the spell out. I’ll have to study it more, sometime. Now, let me get my book; I’ll teach you the spell.”

Trixie stepped out of the tower, on two legs. Not only did the spell change her appearance, but it was apparently true change. She was, for all intents and purposes, a human female for as long as the spell lasted. She looked back at the mirror she’d been provided, and was rather happy with her appearance: her skin was a light shade of pink, almost as pale as her snowy head of hair. She filled out the black robes she’d been given quite well, but she felt they weren’t very flattering; they’d have to do until she got a set of her own clothes in Riften. She stood at about five and a half feet tall, and still possessed her violet eyes; her face had high cheekbones and a button nose, and a smattering of freckles over her cheeks. “Well then. Looks like we’re in business.” Trixie reached over to a rack just inside the tower and picked up her purple hat, its silver stars and moons shining in the sunlight, a grin on her face as she set it atop her head.

As Trixie walked down the stone steps toward the fire pit, Sam had his nose in one of his books, trying to figure out why the shape-change spell was so unstable; when he heard the soft scrape of leather boots on stone behind him, he slowly turned and was about to make a comment about how long she took. However, the insult was lost to the wind as his jaw nearly hit the floor. Trixie smirked at him and placed a finger under the lad’s chin, lifting it up to close his mouth. “You’ll catch bugs doing that. Ready to go?”

Sam nodded, and took more than a few moments to stop staring so he could regain his composure. Even Alistair couldn’t help staring – a horse, turned into a beautiful woman? Oh, the wonders of witchcraft. Trixie rolled her eyes and began walking East, toward the large city in the distance; it took a minute longer, but the merry band was finally caught up to itself, and traveling on a dirt road to Riften. They passed under beautiful autumn trees, the red and yellow leaves glowing in the sunlight and casting patterns of multicolored light on the ground. They trudged along, all in fairly good moods as they took in the beautiful day; at their current pace, it would be about an hour’s travel before they were at Riften’s gates.

“What a beautiful day! The sun is out, the breeze is nice, the birds are singing, the dragon is destroying Rifte─ what?” Samuel sprinted ahead of the group, his hands shooting up to entwine at the top of his head; the mage was having trouble comprehending what he was seeing. A rather large, spine-covered frost dragon was making a second pass at the town, its frozen breath encasing several buildings in frost and snow; when it turned around, it seemed to hone in on something in the distance. Sam drew a spyglass from his pocket, trying to get a better view of what the dragon was chasing – what he saw, he simply couldn’t believe. “Is… Is that another Unicorn? Well, looks like we found your counterpart.”

Trixie snatched the spyglass from Samuel’s hand, and her heart plummeted into her stomach with what she saw. Twilight Sparkle, accompanied by a small cat-like woman, galloping away from the frozen breath of a frost dragon. It seemed the purple Unicorn was dressed in makeshift iron armor, but the most intimidating thing about her was the fact that the dragon’s breath was skittering off of the wall of ward spells she’d just cast. “A-already? I’m not ready to face Twilight, not yet!” The snowy-haired woman backed up several steps, ready to run away if need be.

Sam watched the spectacle and nodded. “I’ll second that motion. What say we go back to our cozy tower?” The mage turned on his heel and was gone in the blink of an eye, sprinting back up the road to Nilheim.

“Sam, you featherbrain, wait for us!” Trixie ran after him, about as fast as if she’d had her four legs and hooves back. Oh, Trixie, what sort of mess have you gotten yourself into?