Arc 3- 1 (Complications)

“Losing a friend's trust is the fastest way to lose a friend. Losing a friend's trust is the fastest way to lose a friend. Losing a friend's trust is the fastest way to lose a friend. Losing a friend's trust is the fastest way to lose a friend.”

Spike sighs heavily and drums his fingers on his knee as he watches Pinkie Pie repeat her message to herself over and over again like a broken record. He’s feeling conflicting emotions right now. He doesn’t know if he should be annoyed because he’s been hearing the same thing for only Celestia knows how long. Nervous because Pinkie Pie’s mane and tail have deflated and she’s rocking herself back and forth, eyes enormous and devoid of all focus. Or pity because she’s obviously going through a major depression that is fueled by years of guilt build up.

“Losing a friend's trust is the fastest way to lose a friend.”

Spike finally gets up and shakes Pinkie Pie out of her trance. Pinkie Pie’s head shakes back and forth, and when it stabilizes it takes another couple of seconds for her eyes to regain focus. She looks at Spike, eyes watering and body still rocking slightly.

“I betrayed her trust. I lost a friend.” Pinkie Pie says achingly, gulping back tears.

“Are you talking about Twilight’s trust?”

“Trixie.”

“Trixie? You mean that annoying showmare that made those two idiots bring the Ursa Minor in?”

Pinkie Pie nods. “Yeah, the proof-in-the-pudding mare. But I only wanted to protect my family, and I saw Trixie as a tool and I used her to do what I couldn’t -what I wouldn’t do. But the more I spent time with her, the more I realized that she was lost in this nasty game of life. She was more lost than me and I was the only one who could’ve saved her. But I didn’t save her. I got her killed. Just like I got Octavia killed.”

Pinkie Pie rubs her heart, choking painfully as more tears run down her cheeks. She finds it hard to breathe, like all of her guilt has grabbed her lungs and heart and is squeezing them until they pop in its evil claws.

“I pretended to be somepony else, and she trusted me... She trusted me and because of that she is dead.”

Spike picks up one of Pinkie Pie’s rubber chickens to play with it.

“How do you know that they are dead?” asks Spike.

“I heard Octavia crying when Dashie was beating her. Then she became quiet and I woke up in this place.” Pinkie Pie closes her eyes and grits her teeth while pressing her hooves against her head, now feeling like her brain is expanding. “I heard her and didn’t do anything. Pinkamena wouldn’t let me. She kept telling me she broke a Pinkie Promise, she tried to kill me, she wouldn’t listen and deserved to die.” Pinkie Pie’s eyes open. “Just like Lock. Only Pinkamena wanted more. She wanted to hurt my friends, especially Twilight and Rarity. She... she’s evil and I’m losing control of her.”

Pinkie Pie gets up and approaches her high school diploma, framed and hanging proudly on a wall. She can see her reflection in the glass. And not just her’s, but Pinkamena’s as well. The flat haired, maniacal grinning menace inside of Pinkie Pie is taunting her with her faint reflection. As she stares at the diploma, she hears a rumble in the distance and notices a small flash of lightning in the distance, but still she stares at herself and diploma.

“It cost my family a fortune to pay a unicorn for a procedure that would keep Pinkamena in check.  We thought it would work, but then mom hung herself and she almost broke out.”

Pinkie Pie squeezes her eyes shut and looks down as the image of her mother swinging from the ceiling with her father trying to get her down invades her mind. She can hear everything, from the creaking of the body swaying in its spot, to her father’s wailing. When she opens her eyes her hooves carry her to a worn table that has stacks of papers crammed in every which way they could be crammed. Yet in the middle of it all is a simple suicide note with a life insurance quote underneath it. Pinkie Pie sits at the table and stares at it, lips trembling and tears flowing freely. She drags a birthday card addressed to her from her mother and flips it open. The inside of the card saying: Stay strong. It’ll be sunshine and rainbows in the end. Love, Mom.

“Then, when I thought you guys abandoned me when I honestly forgot about my birthday she came back and was able to get control of most of me, but I held her back before she could do more than just creep out Dashie.”

Pinkie Pie closes the card and slides it away, folding her hooves on her desk and placing her head on top of them soon after, ignoring the growing noise of the storm.

“Then... when you died... I knew she would be back. I tried to keep her in check, but I almost lost control when Trixie botched her rescue mission. She came out when I attacked the griffin’s for answers about Bon Bon.”

There is a deafening roll of thunder and a bright flash of green light that shakes the cabin, and while Spike may have jumped, Pinkie Pie just lazily lifts her head. The horrible feelings she has in her head, heart and lungs are getting worse and now she feels a little dizzy.

“I lost control when the EIB and griffins attacked, and I couldn’t stop Lock, and because of that, Trixie died. So I killed him in the warehouse.” Pinkie Pie looks at Spike, ears drooped and whole body sulking and trembling. “I have to stay dead, Spike, for everypony’s sake.”

Spike takes a moment to think. “So, let me get this straight, not only are you blaming yourself for my death, but you’re also afraid of yourself, so you think that in order to keep everyone safe from yourself you’re better of dead.”

Pinkie Pie silently nods and Spike takes a deep breath while rubbing the back of his neck.

“Okay,” sighs Spike, “you need a cookie. A big cookie.”

“Chocolate, light on the sprinkles, please,” mutters Pinkie Pie. “There should be a box of those on the top shelf in the pantry.”

Spike leaves the room and Pinkie Pie stares out the dirty window in her room, watching the endless field of stone and the looming storm in the distance. It doesn’t take a meteorologist to know that the storm will be bad since the clouds are nearly black and the ground shaking, rumbling thunder signaled by the flashes of green lightning. She finds the odd colored lightning weird, but she also feels sick by looking at the storm, and not only that, but the uneasy feeling she’s getting in her body is slowly turning to pain. Pinkie Pie flops on her bed and buries her face in her pillow while pressing her hooves against her ears.

“Jeeze, that is one weird storm,” comments Spike as he walks in with a plate of cookies and a cup of milk. Then he notices Pinkie Pie’s sickly condition. “You okay there, Pinkie?”

“I don’t feel so good,” moans Pinkie Pie.

“What’s wrong? Something not sitting well?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what.”

“It was probably the hot chocolate,” suggests Spike as he sets the treats on the desk, politely moving the note and insurance quote first. “The expiration date was kinda smudged out on the can, but I still used it anyway.”

Pinkie Pie stares at Spike, jaw agape, and for a brief moment she doesn’t feel sick, only disgusted, and the dragon shrugs while smiling sheepishly.

“Spike!”

“What?”

“Eww-uh!”

“Oh come on, don’t be like that. You know you loved it.”

“It doesn’t- Why did you- Ewww!”

Spike snickers and closes the curtains, commenting on how they shouldn’t look at the creepy storm. Pinkie Pie manages a small chuckle, but that chuckle doesn’t last long being that uncomfortable feeling returns with reinforcements. It feels as though her bones are shaking loose and her muscles are ripping on top of her aches. She tries to ignore the worsening pain all over her body, however it is a lost cause. The pain is gradually worsening, and the horrible, indiscernible sounds that her ears are picking up are making the situation all the more unpleasant.

“Pinkie?”

She wipes sweat off of her face with a shaky hoof, now feeling intensely nauseous on top of her pain. Spike sits next to her and turns her to him, asking her if she’s okay, but she can’t hear him. In fact, the only reason she knows what Spike said is because she read his lips. Pinkie Pie starts swaying back and forth, muttering unintelligibly and certain she’s going to puke, and she knows its not the hot chocolate giving her this feeling. She knows its her Pinkie Senses going off the rocker since bad hot chocolate has never killed anyone, and she feels like she’s dying a horrible death. Her Pinkie Senses have always been pretty clear, such as itches for being spied on or creaky limbs for approaching a hidden threat. The rest came from visual and audio observation. However, her whole body aching and the need to puke is something she has never felt before, and its scaring her.

Pinkie Pie’s eyes start to drift shut, and a shake from Spike makes them open again, however, this time she can’t even concentrate. She hears the awful noises and her heartbeat, but everything is so out of focus she can no longer tell what’s going on. She goes from seeing doubles, to triples, and then to seeing a whole other world mix with her old room. Her eyes then roll to the back of her head and she collapses.

Pinkie Pie’s eyes snap open, fully awake, when her head hits a slab of broken pavement. She slowly lifts her head when a group of terrified and injured ponies run past her, screaming and crying from fear and pain. Over the cries and screams, she can hear the machines she’s hooked up to beep furiously and the doctors and Spike shouting frantically. However, those are soon replaced with roaring fire and rolling thunder. Pinkie Pie pushes herself to her hooves and immediately has to sit down when she sees Canterlot. Burning.

The sky is covered by a thick blanket of fiery smoke that is rising from fire bursting through the towering structures. The streets are littered with mangled bodies, which are being trampled over by a crowd of terrified ponies making an attempt to flee to safety from the risen Hell. Pinkie Pie looks around, unable to move, and watches in horror as the Royal Palace, whose once pearl white walls are now covered in ash and shrapnel damage, collapses to the ground, covering more refugees in fire and burning debris. The terrified screams are silenced by the rumbling and the crushing weight of the wave of brick, metal, and plaster of the palace. More fire, smoke and dust is pushed out as each of the ruined towers collapse on themselves, victimizing everyone in their path.

Through the fire and smoke, a seared and tattered Equestrian flag floats down in front of Pinkie Pie. She takes a step forward to get a closer look and her hoof accidently kicks aside a golden plate of armor. She doesn’t know why, but she’s drawn to it, and when she kneels down to get a closer look she sees that its Celestia’s, covered in soot with a hole burnt through the center of the sun and dried blood on the ridges. Pinkie Pie gingerly picks up the armor plating and strokes it with her hoof, too shocked for words.

“Somepony get Dr. Heartbeat!” shouts a voice in the clouds.

“We’re losing her!” exclaims another.

Pinkie Pie shakes her head in disbelief as tears roll down her cheeks. Then she looks to her side and sees the Mare-Do-Well cape hanging on a bent bar, tattered and drenched in blood with the jewelry encasing the Elements of Harmony around it. Destroyed. She drops the armor and tries to run to it, but trips over herself and lands flat on her face. The she hears what sounds like a set of turbine engines followed by something metallic skidding to a stop not too far from her. She lifts her head and sees a stallion in a full metal suit with gems around his limbs, tesla coils around his ankles, and two turbine engines with a cannon on a swivel mount perched on his back. His eyes glow green and each step he takes leaves a crack in the ground and a trail of green mist. Pinkie Pie stands up and braces herself for the worst as the menace continues his approach.

The stallion fires right as someone shouts “Clear!” and-

=*********=

Trixie jumps upright on a fluffy bed with snowy white sheets and soft pillows with her whole body drenched in sweat and throbbing, especially her horn and around the areas where her stitches are. Trixie groans and raises her hoof to touch her aching horn, but stops when she sees a fresh set of stitches on top of where Vinyl Scratch did her colorful job. And these stitches are bland little lines done professionally. However, despite how pleased Trixie is that she has professional stitching, and no longer feels anything under her skin, the pain cannot be ignored. She gingerly crawls out of the bed and sways when her hooves touch a soft carpet. She looks around and realizes that she’s in an unfamiliar location. The room is well furnished and the window is polished with the curtains pulled back, allowing warms rays of sunshine into the room. She also notices that the room has no photos and that there is music playing softly.

Trixie limps towards the door, twitching ever so slightly from pain, and when she steps out into the white hallway the music becomes clearer.

“Goodbye my Equestrian life.

All that is good is now gone and of strife.

We’re drownin’ all our troubles in cider n’ rye.

Tryin’ not to cry, even though we know that it all died.

Goodbye my Equestrian life.”

She hobbles down the stairs, taking full advantage of the railing, and almost slides down it when her legs give way. Luckily for her, she is able to wrap her hoof around the marble railing. She cringes when her soreness spikes and when her hooves make a squeaking noise from rubbing against the railing.

“Celestia’s summer sun never fails to make us swelter,

But the singing birds now fly off without song or shelter.

And you sit outside protesting in songs about the unfairness of it all,

With your newfound friends, you say ponies like me are what made it all wrong.”

Trixie stumbles into a large living room, furnished with imported furniture from the Crystal Kingdom and illuminated by an extravagant crystal chandelier. The living room has a set of double doors that lead to a large, white balcony with fence posts that are studded with diamond tips, and having a furniture set that matches the one in the living room, complete with an umbrella to cover the table resting near the edge. The balcony also has an uncompromised view of the rolling plains, which has the faint outlines of cities and towns in the distance. However, while the beauty of the view is unmatched, Trixie is not surprised by that. Rather she is surprised by who she sees in the living room. Sitting on the couch, listening to the radio with a cup of water is Monte, humming along to the song playing over the radio.

“With your crafty colorful stalls,

That you put in the park I practice in,

By the hate I see in your eyes I can see you want me gone,

And not just me, but what I know is to be right and wrong.

You want every part of me dead, but I’ll always march to my tune

Why don’t you and your boys come up to dance?”

Trixie’s eyes narrow and she crouches down and approaches Monte like a feline predator. He is completely oblivious to the danger he is in.

“I learned some fancy moves, I’d be glad to show if you gave me the chance-”

Trixie grabs Monte by the back of his neck and pulls him off of the couch while simultaneously using her magic to turn off the radio. Monte lands with a yelp and Trixie clambers on top of him and then presses one hoof against his neck while using her other hoof to keep herself balance. Then she uses her oh so common levitation spell to smash the cup Monte was drinking from against a nightstand and holds the jagged edge to his face.

“Please don’t hurt me,” whimpers Monte while holding up his hooves defensively as Trixie glares down at him like a savage beast. She really wants to add a nice, long gash to his collection of bruises on his face.

“Where am I!” demands Trixie, pressing harder against Monte’s throat and ignoring his wheezing and desperate attempts to gulp in air.

“He can’t talk unless he can breathe,” comments a familiar stallion.

Trixie looks up and her jaw drops, along with the broken cup, when she sees the one and only Fancypants standing in the doorway with his supermodel wife behind him. Trixie climbs off of Monte and steps back, not sure if she should be embarrassed or confused. Once Trixie is off of Monte, he rolls to his feet and rubs his neck while coughing in such a way one could mistake him for trying to hack a hairball. In normal circumstances, Trixie would be repulsed by Monte’s odd behavior, but she hasn’t had a normal situation in over ten years.

“What’s going on here?” asks Trixie as she backs up.

“Trixie, relax, you’re safe, but we need to talk,” says Fancypants calmly. Then to his wife: “Fleur, pouvez-vous s'il vous plaît nous préparer du thé?”

“Oui, ma chère, il sera d'une minute.”

Fleur heads towards the kitchen and Fancypants sighs heavily as he looks at the broken glass. He then quietly uses his magic to pick up the shards and put them in the garbage can. Trixie repeats her question and both stallions look at each other for a moment before looking at Trixie. Fancypants has a disappointed, yet oddly relieved, look while Monte looks worried, but also at ease. The expressions, needless to say, confuse the former showmare.

“Monte banged on my door yesterday night with you on his back,” Fancypants says when the staring contest becomes more awkward than it already was.

“And you were heavy,” adds Monte. Trixie gives him a dirty glare and he chuckles uneasily while pawing at the carpet. “But still looking good for a butch.”

“WHAT!” screams Trixie furiously. “I don’t look butch!” She looks at Fancypants, demanding a second opinion that she agrees with. “Do I look butch?”

“Well, you’re certainly toned, but-”

Trixie groans irritably and sits on her haunches while covering her face and throwing her head back. First, she finds out her “friend” was actually someone she was supposed to kill, then she’s nearly killed by the ponies that were supposed to protect her, then she was almost squashed by a burning vehicle, and finally betrayed by Adanz. And now she finds out she looks butch. These days just keeps getting better and better.

“This is no time to worry about how you look,” says Fancypants sternly. “I need to know why Monte -of all ponies-”

“Hey!”

“Carried you here all the way from the griffin enclave with you in a tattered, bloody costume with stitches under your skin.”

“That is none of your business!” snaps Trixie. “Now where is my costume?”

Fancypants and Monte look at each other again, and the magician cocks his head slightly towards the wood furnace.

“You tell her.”

Fancypants approaches the wood furnace, takes a deep breath, and then opens it to show Trixie what’s inside. Her costume, gnarled and burnt to ashy flakes with her pads cracked apart and the pieces melted together. Trixie frantically cries “No!” repeatedly with a river of tears running down her cheeks as she digs out the pieces, spilling ash all over the carpet. When the pieces -or what’s left of them- are all over the ground, she lies down and buries her face in her hooves and sobs.

“Why did you do that!” sobs Trixie.

“It was for your own good,” says Fancypants as he leaves to grab a broom and dustpan. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a mess to clean up.”

Trixie feels Monte rub his hoof over her shoulder, the rubbing does feel good and she can picture the solemn look on his face, but she’s too upset to look at him, or anyone else for that matter.Trixie cuddles the charred remains of her goggles, the lense but jagged pieces of glass on the ridges and the band is almost nonexistent.

“Where’s the bathroom,” sniffles Trixie.

Monte gives her instructions and she silently leaves the living room, pushing past Fancypants when he enters with cleaning supplies. After reaching the bathroom, she locks herself inside and sits on the toilet, trying to think of what to do next now that her identity is basically destroyed. She closes her eyes and leans forward, running her hoof through her mane. She can hear the gunfire, the screams, and the terrifying sounds made from the burning zeppelin crashing through the wall. Trixie whimpers and rocks back and forth while pressing her head with her hooves. She feels like she’s reliving the battle with Adanz; his fury, his talons... his eyes, all vividly playing in her mind with crystal clear quality. Trixie grits her teeth and sobs quietly, curling up on the floor as Adanz’s golden eyes and what he did to Monte floods her thoughts.

“You betrayed us!”

“I didn’t betray you... I never wanted to betray you... We were family.”

Trixie hears the clinging metal, the wood breaking, and Adanz shouting in his native tongue. She can feel his claws digging into her and the blunt force trauma from her being tossed around. She can almost taste her own blood again.

“Betrayal is the ultimate sin.”

Trixie opens her eyes, trembling, drenched in sweat and tears, and eyes red from crying. Her body is now in massive pain and she can’t bear it. The emotional and physical pain is too much to handle and she’s wishing she had some of those happy pills. She knows Sunshine is around. She can feel him and hear him. Hear his breathing, hear his chuckle, hear his hoofsteps.

Trixie sits up and looks around the simple bathroom for any sign of her tormentor, but he’s nowhere to be seen. She releases a breathe she had no idea she was holding and turns to the bathroom sink. She awkwardly uses her hooves to work the knobs on the sink and when gets the water temperature just right she stick her hoof under the running water and splashes her face. The warm water gives her a nice, relaxing feeling that she needed after what had happened in the past couple of days. However, the splash was clumsy so it only got half of her face. So she splashes the other side of her face, and she does this repeatedly until her whole face is dripping wet. After that, she stares at her reflection and realizes that her eyes are bloodshot with sickly bags under them, and bruises and scars decorating her face are only making her look worse.

Trixie sighs and looks at her stitched hooves, still kicking herself for allowing Lyra to inject her with the medication before warning her about the stitches. Trixie pokes her stitches, not sure what to expect, and when she strangely feels nothing out of the ordinary she leans against the sink. Then she covers her face with her hooves and tries once again to relax. But she can’t relax. The battle at Gilda’s manor keeps playing in her mind, specifically the fight between her and Adanz. Then a single sentence echoes in her mind.

“It was supposed to be a simple, get in-poison-get out mission.”

Her hooves slowly slide off her face and her glistening eyes open just as gradually, and her eye is twitching as her body trembles with anger. Now that she thinks about it, she wonders if they knew she was “Vigilante” all along and were using Lyra to get to her just so they can trap her on the balcony. Trixie knows that if they were going to poison anybody, they would’ve done so with food or water, and she doesn’t recall seeing anything resembling a kitchen anywhere near her. She knows she passed a kitchen on the lower level and she also knows that if they were going to go “covert”, they would not have come in with full battle gear. As she puts the pieces together -the seemingly presentless League, them arriving at the griffin enclave in full battle gear, so willing to follow an “anonymous” hero, and Adanz pointing her out almost immediately- she comes to the conclusion that she was the hit. She and Gilda.

Trixie screams and slams her hooves against the sink counter, sending a ripple of pain over her hooves. She glares at the her reflection, blood boiling and teeth gritted with her whole body trembling.

“They knew,” seethes Trixie.

“I told you, but ya didn’t listen,” says Sunshine coolly, sitting next to Trixie like he’s a welcomed guest. Trixie screams jumps in her spot, towards the source. But there is nothing there, except for polished tiles. She looks back at the mirror and sees Sunshine is sitting in the exact spot, still smiling. “Somethin’ wrong, darlin’?”

“Why can’t you leave me alone?”

“I think we already had this conversation. I said I loved ya, but you said I was obsessed, then I said obsession was love.”

“One of these days, I’m going to kill you and make sure you stay dead,” growls Trixie as she narrows her eyes at Sunshine.

Sunshine snickers. “Me and who else? Adanz? Brisk Wind? Lyra? Monte? Keep growing that list of yers, it’ll be fun when you cross the names off. Trust me.”

There is a knock on the bathroom door and someone calls her, but Trixie keeps her hostile gaze locked on the mirror, playing all kinds of ways she would like to kill those on her hit list. The knocking persists and the pain all over Trixie’s body return with reinforcements. Trixie yells at the people knocking to go away as she yanks opens the medicine cabinet and hastily rummages through it, ignoring the knocking and Sunshine’s quiet smirk, until she finds what she’s looking for. A container of pain pills.

“Good choice,” chuckles Sunshine.

Trixie clumsily uses her magic and hoof to pop the container open, and right as she shoves a couple of pills in her mouth, the door is forced open and Fancypants stumbles in with the aura around his horn fading.

Trixie’s eyes narrow as she slams the container of pills on the counter, yelling: “Can’t a mare get any privacy!”

“We heard you screaming and talking to- Trixie what are- Did you just take my pain pills!” cries Fancypants furiously as he grabs the container with his magic.

When he counts the pills and realizes that he’s short, he glares at Trixie, but she doesn’t care. She wants blood and no one will be standinging in her way. She bullies her way past Fancypants, Fleur, and Monte, all three talking over each other and all three being toned out. That is until three sets of magic grab her and drag her towards them, despite her colorful swearing and thrashing. When they carry Trixie to the living room and toss her on the couch, her whole body tenses up and she grits her teeth as she shrinks and charges her horn defensively.

“Come on! I dare you!” snarls Trixie, body curling for a pounce.

“Dare us to do what?” asks Monte.

Monte yelps when Trixie shoots him in the chest with a bolt of lightning. The blast isn’t fatal, but it does send the poor pony stumbling into the wall. Fleur screams and jumps back and Fancypants lunges at Trixie as Monte struggles to get up. Trixie scrambles out of the way, but is surprised at how fast and agile Fancypants is when he tackles her to the ground in a moment’s notice. While Trixie squirms under him, he presses her head against the carpet and sits on top of her. Trixie screams and swears over Monte -who is also whining and swearing- as her attempts to break free are in vain.

“TRIXIE, SHUT UP!” exclaims Fancypants, then points at Monte. “And you, stop your bitching!”

Everyone shuts up and stares at Fancypants with their jaws locked and eyes wide. Even Fleur, despite how pale her coat is, became impossibly white from the vulgarity of her husband’s language. Fancypants takes a deep breath, pushes his mane back and glares at Trixie.

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” says Fancypants, his voice low and demanding.

Trixie opens her mouth to say something, but when she sees the fire in his eyes, she does a subtle nod instead. Fancypants immediately crawls off of Trixie and helps her up, she brushes herself off and looks at the floor, still holding her grim expressions.

“Chérie, qu'est-ce que c'était?” says Fleur uneasily as she carefully steps forward.

Trixie and Monte look at Fleur, clueless as to what she said.

“Juste un peu de mon ancien moi. Rien à craindre.” replies Fancypants, his smile reflecting his uneasiness about what had happened.

Trixie and Monte’s gaze shifts to Fancypants, still confused, and when Fleur nods and leaves the room, they look at each other, their confusion worse than before. Fancypants takes a deep breath and motions for Trixie and Monte to follow Fleur out. As the two walk out, Trixie leans closer to Monte, whispering: “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

Monte glares at Trixie. “I saved your life and brought you to your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Please, everypony at my casino and at your work knows you have wet dreams about him.”

Trixie raises her hoof to punch him, face burning with embarrassment, but Fancypants turns around and clears his throat while giving her a stern, fatherly glare. She lowers her hoof and her head and follows him in silence. The group group walks onto the balcony and Fancypants helps Trixie sit down, and sits across from her. When Monte sits next to Trixie, she scoots away, making the zony frown and turn away with his nose in the air.

“Fine way to repay somepony for saving you,” says Monte irritably.

“I saved your life earlier, so consider us even,” says Trixie, her tone matching Monte’s.

“And that is what I wanted to talk to you about,” says Fancypants. “The costume explains your bruises and scars, but I’m just curious as to what possessed you to act so rash.”

“The beauty of curiosity is that you don’t have to yield to it,” remarks Trixie.

Monte whistles and mentions something about “fancy speak”, and when Fancypants glares at him, he simply waves his hoof dismissively while keeping his eyes away from Trixie. Fancypants turns back to Trixie, and she folds her hooves across her chest and looks away from the older stallion.

“Allow me to rephrase, then,” says Fancypants irritably. “I want to know what you were doing in painted hoofball pads, fighting griffins and EIB agents and taking gliding lessons with your cape. And I want to know it now.”

Trixie glares at Monte, and, without looking, he shrugs again, like he knew Trixie was giving him the death glare. Fleur walks out with a tray of tea in her magical grip, and Fancypants thanks her and carefully takes the tray before telling her something in their fancy language. Fleur looks him questionably, then at Trixie and Monte, then specifically at Trixie, and then she leaves with her nose in the air and slams the balcony door shut.

“I wasn’t gliding, I was falling with style.”

“This is no time for jokes, Trixie!”

“She wasn’t joking. It’s true, we were falling with style,” chuckles Monte.

Fancypants once again glares at Monte, and Trixie tries to leave, but Fancypants uses his magic to keep her pinned to her seat. She demands to be released as she squirms, but Fancypants holds fast, and when Trixie’s horn glows for a strike, a sharp pain rips through where her horn chipped and she collapses to the table, crying and rubbing her injury.

“This sucks!” cries Trixie.

“Trixie, being a costumed hero is not meant for real life. Its only for comic books.” Fancypants says, then he releases her as he leans back in his seat. “Your activities almost got you killed. I don’t want you killed, Trixie. I want you to live a long life where you don’t have to worry about retribution or keeping your identity a secret. If you continue this, you’ll have no choice but to change everything to keep those you love safe from whatever enemies you gained.” He looks at Trixie. “And in some cases, from yourself.”

“But-”

“Trixie, it’s over. You won your war. Gilda has been taken in, her empire is destroyed, and your friend has been avenged. Please stop this nonsense before it consumes you. Or worse.”

Trixie shakes her head, boldly saying: “I can’t. I have to make Brisk Wind and Lock pay for what they’ve done. Then it’ll be Adanz and Roar Shock.”

“Yeah... you probably want to rethink your list,” says Monte slowly.

Trixie looks at Monte quizzically, then her stare is fixated to a newspaper that Fancypants summons. He tosses it in front of Trixie opened to the article about a warehouse massacre, written by Quill Pen.

“Agent Lock is dead. And he died a horrible death,” says Fancypants grimly. “That will be you if you continue like this.”

Then he leaves without another word and when the balcony door closes, Trixie drags the article closer to her and reads it. She barely gets started when she sees many things wrong with it, such as labeling Lock a “talented investigator with a warm heart”, a “hero to his community”, and “a caring mate”. None of those qualities matches Trixie’s idea of him, especially the “warm heart” part. She continues to read the article and when she gets to his death, she can’t help but smile. She’s glad he was beaten to a pulp before being executed, and she finds herself not caring that Octavia was found dead with him or that Rainbow Dash is being investigated by the EIB for her role in the massacre. However, one part does catch her eye and she has to reread it just to make sure its not what some kind of trick her eyes are playing. According to Quill Pen, an anonymous source is claiming that Minty Sprinkles is alive and to commemorate the brave more Quill Pen will be doing a special article surrounding her fight for survival. Trixie chuckles happily as she stands up, feeling a million times better.

“I can’t believe it!” cheers Trixie. “Pinkie’s alive!” Then in an angry tone. “Now I can beat the crap out of her for lying to me and-”

“Did you even hear me?” asks Monte, his eyebrow arched.

“You didn’t say anything,” replies Trixie sharply.

“I did to! I was saying that now that Gilda is in custody and Lock is dead, you can retire. You didn’t even have to knock out Gilda or Lock because their blood feuds is what ended them.” Then in a sly whisper after looking over his shoulder to make sure Fancypants isn’t close by, “Or you could wait until Brisk Wind is taken care of...”

Trixie stares at Monte as the zony smirks.

“You want to know why I was Gilda’s loft?” whispers Monte as he inches closer.

“You worked for her.”

“Work for her. I still work for her, and Gilda, despite being the polar opposite of sunshine, didn’t outshine Eclipse, Sunshine, or Toolbox by being a moron.” Monte chuckles. “Nope, she never really trusts any of her partners so she keeps every bit of dirt she has on them in a safety deposit box in a Bernese bank. That includes Brisk Wind.”

Trixie leans forward, suddenly intrigued by what Monte is saying.

“Everything?” she asks.

“Everything. Conversations, numbers, addresses, contracts, bank transactions, pictures, you name it. The most recent ones are not in the bank, but the older files are. You see, I’m the only one left who can get those files, and... well I was supposed to leave immediately with the recent files but I wanted to screw with Brisk Wind so I left her a nice message that may or may not have the Bank of Bernese logo on it.”

“YOU IDIOT!” screams Trixie. Monte jumps in his seat and falls off when Trixie pounces on him and pins him to the ground. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Angered two mares with a piece of paper?”

“No! You just gave Brisk Wind a target! She will find those files and destroy them before they see the light of day!”

Monte chuckles and gently pushes Trixie off; she doesn’t go all the way off but its enough for Monte to sit up comfortably. She growls as his smile widens.

“Trixie, you seem to have forgotten that nothing can beat a Bernese bank. I’m on Gilda’s list of approved to access her deposits. I can get those files that will bury Brisk Wind alive, but I’m going to need a companion to court.” He stands up, adjusting his cape. “I’m going... to need... a companion... to court.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We have a common enemy, Trixie. We work together to take her down and then we’ll go our own separate ways. Simple as that.”

“I know that! But what was with the...” Trixie’s eyes widen and she holds up her hoof in disgust while leaning back. “Oh no. I am not doing that!”

“It’s a lot easier to travel as tourists, and its easier to pose as tourists of we look like a couple. Just saying.”

Trixie’s jaw drops. “I am not posing as your marefriend.”

“Actually, I was thinking you can pose as my wife.”

oooOOOooo

Fancypants finishes putting away some freshly cleaned dishes when he sees Monte walk into the kitchen in a trance like state and open up the freezer. He then grabs a pack of frozen beans and walks out while pressing the bag against his jaw. The whole time he is strangely silent. When Monte is out of sight, Fancypants shakes his head and resumes putting his dishes away.

oooOOOooo

Trixie sits on the couch, with her hooves folded across her chest and the ruined goggles pressed to her chest. She’s breathing heavily, trying to hold back her tears and keep herself from having a meltdown. However, that is very hard for her since her costume is ruined beyond repair, her pills are gone, and Monte is being more annoying than usual. She also knows sooner or later she’ll have to deal with Adanz and Roar Shock. She already has some idea of what Adanz is capable of, given that he trained her and that their last encounter showed that he’s got a dangerous gift. But Roar Shock, on the other hand, all she knows about him is that he killed her father in such a way that his death was labeled the most gruesome murder in Canterlot history. That and he’s a genius nutjob bent on enacting his own twisted code of justice.

“You know, I don’t think this marriage will work out if you continue to beat me,” says Monte, either foolish or brave enough to put a noticeable tease in his tone.

“Monte, why are you so persistent about me going to Bernese with you?” asks Trixie dangerously.

“I gave my reasons.”

“Well you better drop it, because its not going to happen.”

“Really.” Monte sits across from Trixie, now holding a stern glare. “Well then inform me, oh Great and Powerful Trixie, how you’re going to bring down Brisk Wind. You don’t have a costume anymore-”

“Because you burnt it.”

“So you can’t go around beating up ponies and getting away with it. You could take the assassination route-”

“I’m not a killer!”

“But by that outburst that is not going to happen anytime soon. So tell me, what are you going to do?”

“She won’t do anything,” says Fancypants sternly. Both Trixie and Monte look at him as he steps into the room. “Trixie, you’re done with this vigilante business.”

Monte steps in between Fancypants and Trixie and pokes him in the chest.

“Hey, last I checked, you’re not her daddy,” says Monte.

“I will not let her get involved in any more of this! She almost died for Celestia’s sake! And now you want her to go with you to Bernese!”

“It’s to take out Brisk Wind!”

“Really! Are you being a good citizen helping out, or is this the wish of Gilda?” Monte opens his mouth, but quickly closes it and walks away, mumbling incoherently. “Thought so.” Then to Trixie: “You are staying right here where its safe.”

“What!” cries Trixie as she jumps to her feet. “But I can’t stay here! I have to-”

“Do nothing. You’re going to be doing nothing and going to be sitting here in this house until we can fix this in a way that doesn’t involve you putting your life in danger.”

“But-”

“Not another word, young lady!”

“You can’t keep me here!” yells Trixie defiantly as she stomps her hoof. “I can do what I want and I’m leaving!”

“Really?” asks Monte hopefully as he zooms back in the room with a giant grin plastered on his face.

“Not with you!” snaps Trixie. Monte groans and looks down, pouting, and Trixie marches towards the exit, but Fancypants steps in front of her. “Out of my way! I’m going to take down Brisk Wind and nothing you say or do will stop me!”

Fancypants steps forward and glares down at Trixie, and she gulps and shrinks back slightly.

“Is that so,” he says in a low, challenging voice.

~~~~~~~~~~

Trixie huffs as she folds her hooves across her chest, sitting on the bed she woke up in not too long ago and glaring at the door as Fancypants closes it with his magic.

=**********=

Shining Armor steps into his workplace, tired and suffering from a hangover and a night of the “couch treatment”. The lights burn his eyes, the noise hurts his ears, and worst of all, he feels as though his head might pop. He tries to ignore the pain and look confident in his stride, but after last night’s confession he can’t hide his shame even if his life depended on it.

As he walks towards his office, he notices that there are very few ponies actually working. Most are crowded around a radio, listening to DJ-Pon3, a character he’s never cared for even to this day. However, with the Vigilante business and the whole Equestria-eating-itself-alive ordeal, her ratings have soared and now he’s certain she’s more popular than the largest news agency.

“I don’t know what the hay happened over at Gilda’s place, but man that was some intense shit,” says DJ Pon3. “Gilda put up one heck of a fight. She hospitalized Director Brisk Wind, took out a freaking zeppelin, and now, from what I hear of my sources, she’s in the hospital after being shot a dozen times. How she’s still alive is beyond me.”

Shining Armor walks up to the crowd as they murmur amongst themselves.

“I’ll get more information about this whole thing as soon as I can. However, before I play some ‘Ghostie Hunter’, I want to give a word of warning to everypony in Baystone. Your protests have stirred the hornets nest and thanks to a few honest journalists and mail, I’m getting all kinds of stuff about ponies disappearing left and right. Specifically those of you in the Lunar Society. So keep your eyes peeled and your ears open and stay safe.” Some hard rock starts playing. “Now, here’s ‘Ghostie Hunter’s ‘Imaginary Kingdom’.”

“There better be a good reason why none of you are working!” exclaims Shining Armor. The ponies around the radio nearly jump out of their skin and scatter as Shining Armor shouts: “Back to work! You can listen to all the radio you want when you’re off your shift!”

He uses his magic to unplug the radio with a hard, swift tug and marches into his office with the radio in tow. Not even five seconds later, the symphony of quills scratching on paper takes over the silence. He goes into his office and carelessly tosses the radio aside, not caring when he hears its casing crack or sees a little shower of sparks in his peripheral vision. He sits at his desk and grumbles to himself when he looks at the stack of paperwork in his basket. Thus begins his mind numbing process of filling out forms to deny or accept requests, sign something then send it to Celestia, or the dozens of other tedious activities. An hour goes by and he feels dead. Very dead. The motions are so repetitive, the wording so long and boring, that he’s certain he will die from boredom.

After signing another sheet to approve of more security measures for the Badlands, he comes across a book sized gift wrapped in brown, crinkly wrapping paper. He picks it up and sees that whoever sent it to him has sloppy handwriting, given that he could barely read: To: Shining Armor, From: Adagio D. Minor.

He looks around as if worried someone might be watching him, and after writing down the sender’s name on a sheet of paper he tears open the wrapping. After tossing the wrapping paper aside he arches an eyebrow. Whoever this “Adagio” person is, sent him a yearbook with a velvety cover that has a coat of arms of a prestigious school on it. The coat of arms consists of a scroll, an atom, drama masks, and math utensils in each of its quadrants with a star in the middle, and underneath, written in calligraphy inside a wavy scroll is: University of Stalliongrad.

“Okay then,” mutters Shining Armor quietly.

Shining Armor flips through the pages, trying to determine why the yearbook was sent to him. He comes across a page with the corner bent and he sees that its a photo of a party of some kind with a group of friends having a good time with goofy poses. He takes a closer look and realizes that he recognizes all of the ponies in the photo. Brisk Wind has her front hooves wrapped around Lock as he gives her a piggyback ride, and laughing with Quill Pen is a younger Glimmer Fuller in his ROTC uniform. All of them look like they are having a good time. Nay, a fantastic time.

Shining Armor flips the pages until he comes across another bent page. Same thing. Quill Pen, Brisk Wind, Lock, and Fuller altogether in some silly pose at some frat party. He skims through it in a more frantic manner, stopping and becoming more shocked as each bent page reveals that the quadrant of terror have known each other since college. And from the looks of it, have been an entourage that just about everyone looked up to. When he reaches the part where all the students have their own thumbnail photo, he sees that each of them have been circled and their class highlighted. They were all in the same graduating class.

Shining Armor slams the book shut and bangs on his intercom button.

“Case Study, get in here!” barks Shining Armor.

Not even a minute later, a unicorn mare with an orange coat, a flat, dark green mane and tail, and a notebook with a hat as a cutie mark bolts in and skids to a stop in front of Shining Armor.

She quickly salutes, saying: “Sir, Staff Sergeant Study reports, as ordered.”

Shining Armor returns the salute, then hands her the slip of paper he wrote the mysterious sender’s name on.

“I need you to find out who that pony is immediately. Do not tell anypony anything and you report everything directly to me.”

“Sir?”

“No mail. No calls. Not even smoke signals. Word of mouth is how you will report. No exceptions.”

Shining Armor puts the yearbook in his safe, and just for good measure he puts a shield spell around it that shimmers a rosy color for a moment before becoming completely invisible. Then he shoves her out like a pushy mother, even going as far as saying “Outoutoutoutout!” and slamming the door shut. After watching her leave the workplace in a hurry, causing some heads to turn no less, he pushes a button on his wall and the bulky communications device similar to the one in Brisk Wind’s office slides out. He grabs a phone book perched next to the device and flips through it until he comes across the number he wanted. He dials the number as quickly as he can and taps his hoof impatiently as he listens to the phone attempt connection.

“Hello?” asks a stallion on the other end. A stallion that Shining Armor doesn’t want to talk to.

“Who’s this?” demands Shining Armor.

“What do you mean ‘Who’s this’? You called me!”

“No I didn’t! I called- Colt is that you?”

“... Yeah.”

“What are you doing at L. Roy’s house?”

“Having cider. What are you calling him for?”

“Put him on.”

“He’s in the bathroom.”

“Bullshit. Put him on.”

“You can-”

“PUT HIM ON!”

There is a moment of silence, some muffled noise, another moment of silence. then a gruff voice on the other end.

“Who the hay is this?”

“L. Roy, its Shining.”

“Oh, Sparkle Sparkle Boom Colt. Long time, no talk. What can I do for you?”

Shining Armor facehoofs at that remark and growls when he hears Colt laughing in the background.

“L. Roy, listen, I need you to pick up somepony off the books. Can you do that?”

“No. Its off my shift, against regulations, and-”

“I need you to pick up Quill Pen.”

“...When do you want her?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Nearly two hours later, Shining Armor walks into a concrete room with a single cell and window where a couple of guards are slacking off. One is reading the New Yoke Times and the other one is messing with the radio. They were oblivious to the nasty screeching noise the metal door made when it swung open, and remained oblivious when he slammed the door shut. But he got their attention when he turned the radio off. Both guards stop what they were doing and looked up at him. Then their jaws dropped and they jumped to their feet, saluting.

“Captain Armor, we weren’t expecting you,” says the guard messing with the radio.

“So I’ve noticed. Get out, both of you.”

The two guards nod and run out, the one that was messing with the radio saying: “Wow, two high rankers in two days!”

When the door shuts, Shining Armor puts a shield around the room and approaches the cell. He sees a colorful tail poking out from under a dirty, gray blanket with an obviously fake snore. He bangs on the cell and the snoring becomes more exaggerated.

“Airmare Dash, approach the cell,” orders Shining Armor.

“Sorry, too busy sleeping,” yawns Rainbow Dash.

To emphasize her point, she yawns even louder, stretches out, and then curls up under her blanket. Shining Armor frowns and uses his magic to pull her out of her bed. She yelps and tries to grab the sheets, but her hooves do nothing except make them messy, and when she’s against the bars, he forces her to stand up.

“As a soldier, you should know better,” comments Shining Armor as he looks down at her.

Rainbow Dash blows some of her vibrant mane out of her eyes. Even by her standards they are messy, they are clumpy from oil buildup and some dirt has caked itself around her. Her normally bright coat also looks drabby and she has a bags under her eyes. It pains Shining Armor to see her treated this way, and not just because she’s an Element.

“You don’t look so good.”

“Getting court martialed for saving a friend usually makes a mess of ponies,” retorts Rainbow Dash. “Now what do you want? Are you here to tell me that I disappointed you? Or disappointed the Royal Guards? Or are you here to say how much I suck?”

“I’m here to give you a way out.” Rainbow Dash stares at him suspiciously. “As Captain of the Royal Guard I can pull strings to get you out of this mess and return you to your unit.”

Rainbow Dash scoffs and starts towards her cot. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m perfectly fine in my cozy little cell, out of Soarin’s sight.”

Shining Armor raises an eyebrow. “Really? Are you turning into Fluttershy now and hiding whenever somepony hurts your feelings?”

Rainbow Dash glares at Shining Armor, feathers ruffled and eyes narrowed, as he steps closer to the cell.

“I’m giving you a way out, Rainbow Dash, and if you’re going to be an idiot and turn me down for whatever reason, then you deserve to have your dishonorable discharge.”

Rainbow Dash looks down, swallowing tears and blinking to keep the tears at bay. She had not been expecting Shining Armor to be so nasty. Sure she barely knew him, but both times she had a decent conversation with him -once at his wedding and another during her recruitment for the Chrysaor Program- he seemed like a real standup pony with a long fuse. When the Captain of the Royal Guard calls Rainbow Dash and taps his hoof against the bar, she looks at him out of the corner of her eye.

“What’s the catch?” asks Rainbow Dash quietly, her voice cracking and trembling.

“I need you to be my eyes and ears in Research and Development. Being as Chrysaor is Major Fuller’s greatest work he’s going to be keeping a noticeable presence.”

Rainbow Dash wipes her eyes and turns to Shining Armor, her head cocked quizzically.

“You want me to spy on the guy I punched?” asks Rainbow Dash uneasily.

“You won’t have much time, he’ll be moving to lead the Civilian Defense Agency soon and be replaced by Twilight.”

“Twilight? You mean our Twilight?”

Shining Armor nods. “I’m going to pardon you under grounds of the Good Holon Law, and being that you have an exceptional status with me backing you, you’ll be fine. That is if you agree to be my eyes and ears.”

Rainbow Dash stares at him and he extends his hoof, not taking his eyes off of her. Rainbow Dash hesitates, then she touches hooves with her superior.

“Deal.”

=**********=

Trixie stands impatiently in a line of dirty ponies outside of a small and extremely crowded soup kitchen that is in desperate need of repair. Like most of the ponies in line, Trixie is starving, dirty, and is wearing a ratty cloak that is shielding most of her body from the painfully cold weather. When the line shuffles forward, she keeps her head down and tries to ignore the stench of the burning fuel as a clunky early model of the motorized wagon drives past her, splashing her and the others in line with muddy slush. Trixie glares at the passing vehicle as she wipes the slush off of her cloak and cloat, then she looks up at the thick, gray clouds and the snowflakes gently falling from the sky. She snorts and looks back ahead of the line, then rolls her eyes when she sees three mares -a unicorn, pegasus, and earth pony- walk next to the line, wearing warm, white coats and hats with suns stitched on them. The earth pony is carrying a cardboard box filled with books, the unicorn is passing out the books, and the pegasus is doing a preaching thing.

Trixie rolls her eyes and tries to ignore them, but her sour look magnetizes the trio to her.

“Ma’am, we are with the Church of Solaria, and we are here to shepard lost souls to the grace of Celestia” says the pegasus with a warm smile. “Have you accepted Celestia as your Queen and Savior?”

Trixie remains silent, keeping her gaze locked to the pony ahead of her.

“Okay, well here’s a copy of the Book of the Sun for you. If you read it, you will find that all of life’s answers lie within in it and in the grace of Celestia. Inside is a card with our church address on it. Hope to see you there.”

The unicorn puts a copy of one of her books, a pure white cover with the sun stamped on it, in Trixie’s cloak pocket and they move on to the next pony, who was more than happy to accept Celestia’s grace. When the trio of evangelicals are six ponies down, Trixie takes out the book and throws it in the middle of the road right as another clunky vehicle drives by. The book disappears under the wheels and in the slushy mud.

When Trixie is inside the soup kitchen, she immediately feels warmer because the heater is on at full blast and the place is crowded to the fullest. She shuffles towards the line of servers, the floorboards creaking with each step. When she reaches the server, she is handed a wooden bowl and spoon and then served a steamy, brown liquid with bits of vegetables and grain floating in it. She looks at it with disgust, but takes it anyway to a table nearest to the exit. She takes a spoonful of it, and it is surprisingly good, but it was mostly broth so all she really got was a warm drink.

“Ladies and gentlecolts,” says a mare on a podium in the very back, “I know you are hungry, but let us take a moment to bless this food.”

Trixie stops in mid-sip and glares up at the pony, only for her glare to turn to a look of shock and confusion. Standing on the podium, wearing the white robe of the church with warm clothing underneath, is the priestess that she told off at her father’s funeral. Trixie throws down her spoon and slouches in her seat.

‘Well that’s just great,’ thinks Trixie bitterly.

The priestess says a quick prayer, and when she finishes everyone in the room says “Amen” in close proximity to one another. All except for Trixie. She snorts and goes back to her food. A short time later, she hears a chair get dragged across the battered, muddy floor and when she looks up she sees the priestess sitting in front of her.

“Mother Glory, it’s been too short,” says Trixie harshly before blowing on her soup.

“No, it’s been too long,” counters Glory sadly. “I can’t believe we’re seeing each other again under these circumstances.”

“Haven’t you heard? Tragedy is a Lulamoon trait.”

Trixie chuckles darkly and decides to forget about the spoon and just lap up the soup from the bowl. Glory looks down, biting her lip.

“Trixie, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” she says finally after what seems like an eternity of heavy silence.

“Congratulations.”

“Celestia spoke through you at your father’s funeral.” Trixie’s skeptical glare doesn’t faze the  priestess. “I realized on that day that I was playing my commitment with the Sun at only half of what is should’ve been. I preached goodwill and servitude towards others, but I never practiced it. I always took the easy route with telling those in distress to pray for deliverance, yet I never raised a hoof to help them. Celestia was upset with my lack of action, so she used you to tell me that I was wrong.”

Trixie finishes her soup and pushes the bowl aside, only for it to be taken by one of the evangelicals making his rounds a couple of seconds later. Trixie then wipes her maw and glares at Glory.

“So let me guess, you opened this soup kitchen to prove to Celestia that you are ‘worthy’ to be her servant.”

Glory smiles. “Yes, that is right. I’m hoping that this soup kitchen will show those in need that the church sees their needs and that Celestia cares about them.”

“Well she sure has a funny way of showing her care.”

“I know its hard to understand why hard things happen, but it all becomes so much clearer if you free yourself from all your pain and hate and anger. If you will let me, I can help you. I can save you from your pain.”

Trixie scowls, gets out of her seat and hurries towards the exit with Glory trailing and calling for her. When they are outside, Trixie turns around and gives a hard jab to Glory’s chest with her hoof.

“Listen here, Mother, I am not interested in being saved. Not by you or the damn church!”

“Trixie, please, let me help you. I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve changed. I-I am a true servant of Celestia now! I understand what it means to help others!” She drops on the ground, staining her white attire with mud, and holds up her hooves in a pleading, prayer position, eyes watering. “Please, let me save you from yourself!”

“If anypony is going to save anypony it will be me! I do not need you or a goddess to save me! I am my own salvation!”

Glory drops to her stomach on the ground, and helplessly watches Trixie walk away.

Trixie stomps down the sidewalk, too angry to be freezing, and every pony she walks past moves out of her way and casts her a worried glance. She stops by a theater and stares at a poster with Twilight Sparkle on it, advertising her visit as a guest speaker for the Starswirl Society. Trixie growls and shoots a bolt of lightning that burns off Twilight’s face and most of her body from the poster.

“That was unnecessary,” says Custos from behind.

Trixie jumps and turns to face Custos while placing her hoof over her heart to calm it down.

“What are you doing here!” snarls Trixie.

“Following you, like I have always done,” answers Custos as he steps next to her. His horn glows and the poster Trixie burnt repairs itself, then he starts down the street. “Walk with me. We need to talk.”

Trixie blows some of her mane out of her face and follows the mysterious pony down the sidewalk, seemingly without direction.

“Where are we going?” asks Trixie.

“To warm you up.”

Custos stops and holds out his hoof, stopping Trixie from walking into the road. Not even a second later, a vehicle drives and splashes both ponies. Custos doesn’t mind, but Trixie swears and frantically wipes the mud off.

Custos leads Trixie across the road, to a coffee shop. When they walk into the warm coffee shop, Trixie wipes off her hooves and walks towards the very back, right underneath a vent blowing out hot air. Custos walks in, but strangely no one seems to care that a unicorn with no features whatsoever had walked in. He actually get a warm greeting from the mare at the counter. Trixie feels a surge of envy when she sees the reception he’s getting, and after Custos takes a seat across from her, she folds her hooves across her chest and looks away.

“So now that we’re here, what is the message this time?” asks Trixie.

“You need friends.”

“Uh, yeah, last time I had friends they betrayed me, so that is out of the question.”

“Trixie, you cannot possibly hope to pass the trails or defeat the coming villains if you are alone.”

“By ‘villains’ you mean Brisk Wind, Adanz, and Roar Shock, right?”

Custos nods. “If you try to fight them alone, you will die, as you’ve almost with Lock and Adanz. And if you do not have friends to help you, you will end up like Roar Shock. Twisted so much from his pain that he no longer realizes that he has become worse than the very monsters he was fighting.”

Trixie chuckles. “Wow, so I need to find friends or else I’ll be locked in a casket or turn into another Roar Shock.” Custos nods and Trixie frowns. “Too bad I don’t have friends.”

Custos shakes his head and his horn glows and little orbs float out with moving pictures of Fancypants, Pinkie Pie, Vinyl Scratch and even Monte and Shining Armor. Trixie stares at each of the pictures and slowly shakes her head.

Trixie points at Shining Armor. “He watched me get tortured.” She points at Monte. “He’s a pig who only wants to use me for his own little thing.” Her hoof moves to Fancypants. “He wants to keep me locked away forever.” Then she glares at Pinkie Pie. “And her... I was supposed to kill her, but she survived and pretended to be somepony else. She lied to me. Played me like a fool. And you expect me to forgive her?”

The one of Vinyl Scratch grows bigger, surpassing the other orbs.

“She has been nothing but helpful towards you, even going as far as treating you without anything in return.”

“Actually, I owe her bleach and lime,” points out Trixie.

“I’m fairly certain she was joking.” Then he shrinks Vinyl Scratch’s orb and enlarges Fancypants’s orb. “You know as well as I do that he cares about you and doesn’t want to see you hurt.” Now it’s Monte’s turn to take up the stage. “As for him, if he was so self-motivated, he would not have offered you a job, tried protecting you from Adanz nor would he have carried you to Fancypants. He would have abandoned you.”

“He probably helped me just so he can get brownie points and get some leverage so I can act as his bodyguard,” grumbles Trixie.

A waitress slides a tray of steaming hot tea and a plate of bagels in front of Trixie. She stares at the tray, then looks at the waitress suspiciously as she leaves without another word.

“You certainly are tougher than Monte,” says Custos, “but it is as you said, you two were even. That food is for you.”

Trixie immediately digs into the bagels, taking massive bites and barely chewing before swallowing. While she digs into her meal, Custos shrinks Monte’s orb down to size and enlarges Shining Armor’s.

“You do not know the burden he is carrying for allowing what had happened to you to happen. But you know he wants to right his wrong and is doing everything in his power to do so. So why do you refuse to forgive him?”

“Easy,” says Trixie, mouth full of chewed bagel, when she swallows: “Political gain. He has a vendetta with Brisk Wind and I’m his winning piece. But it doesn’t matter, I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m dead, and if I poke my head out for even a second then I’ll have Brisk Wind and Roar Shock going after me. If I lay low and find proof that Brisk Wind is the evil bitch she is, then I’ll give it to Vinyl and she can give it to Captain Armor. Captain Armor will take care of her and I’ll handle Roar Shock and Adanz. Simple as pie.”

Trixie sips her tea and her blood warms up in an instant, bringing a smile of relief to her.

“Proof that Monte is handing to you on a silver platter,” remarks Cutos.

Trixie frowns.

“Monte has another motive, and until I figure out what it is, I’m not doing anything with him,” sneers Trixie while pointing at Custos. Then she resumes eating her bagel. “This is a really good bagel.”

“That is your choice, but it is not a good one. You want to expose Brisk Wind, yet you are refusing help from the only ponies who can help. Regardless of what you think of them, you need them and they need you. How do you expect to defeat the common enemy you share if you are too stubborn to forgive them for their sins against you?”

Trixie shoves another delicious bagel in her mouth and chews obnoxiously loud, causing some heads to turn, but she ignores the condescending stares and keeps her focus on Custos.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s all fantastically deep,” mocks Trixie, accidently spitting out some of her bagel while doing so. She licks up the food that escaped her mouth, and when she realizes what she had just done, she coughs nervously and looks away. “Are we done? I’d like to wake up and have a real bagel.”

“Almost.” Pinkie Pie’s orb floats in front of Trixie and she scowls. “Are you going to forgive her, or condemn her for her remaining life as you have for Glory?”

“I planned on it. She played me.”

“And you tried to kill her. Yet she forgave you and renounced everything to ensure that you are taken care of. She saved you from Singsong, courted you, treated you of your injuries, made you an armored suit, and comforted you when you needed it.”

Trixie slams her hooves against the table, yelling: “She did that for her own amusement! It was all a joke to her!”

Clak.

“She went to extraordinary lengths for a simple joke, then.” states Custos.

Clak.

Trixie looks down.

Clak.

Trixie’s ear twitches and she looks up quizzically.

“What is that noise?” wonders Trixie out loud.

Clak.

“It is almost time for you to wake up,” says Custos calmly. “Are you going to forgive Pinkie Pie when she apologizes for what she’s done?” Clak. “Or will you treat her as you’ve treated Glory?”

Clak.

Trixie looks down again.

“What if I can’t forgive her?” whispers Trixie.

“Then you’ll lose a friend.”

Clak.

[[[[O]]]]

Trixie opens her eyes and turns towards the window while rubbing her eyes. It is dark out, and the moon and stars are hidden behind a thin layer of clouds. She jumps slightly when a little glowing pebble smacks against the window. She climbs out of her bed and cautiously approaches the window when another pebble hits it. She opens up the window and swears quietly when a pebble hits her in the face, then she hears someone apologize in a loud whisper. Trixie looks out the window and narrows her eyes at the zony standing in the garden down below with two backpacks.

“Monte, what are you doing!” demands Trixie in a loud whisper.

“C’mon, let’s go. The ferry leaves in a couple of hours,” whispers Monte back.

“What are you doing throwing pebbles at the window.”

“Trying to wake you up. Now let’s go.”

“I can’t.”

“Why? Are you grounded?” asks Monte with a teasing smile

“Yes.”

Monte’s teasing smile disappears. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. Now go away before I get in trouble.”

“Trixie, you’re a grown mare who can make her own decisions. Now get down here and come to Bernese with me!”

“Give me one good reason to go with you.”

Monte facehoofs. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Then he glares at Trixie. “We just had this conversation yesterday!”

Trixie opens her mouth to protest Monte’s “request”, but then remembers what Custos said about the common enemy and how the ponies that can help need her help as well. Trixie groans and sits on her haunches while rubbing her forehead. A moment of thinking later, she peeks outside and sees Monte is still there, waiting impatiently for her.

“Okay, fine, but I’m doing this for me. Not for you.”

Monte waves his hoof dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, just get down here.”

Trixie nods and sneaks out of her room, down the stairs and turns to the backdoor. She extends her hoof to open the door, tasting the sweet first steps of freedom and justice!

And then her eyes are blinded by the light of the kitchen, making her freeze in her spot and want to die when she sees Fancypants standing with his hoof against the lightswitch. Glaring at her.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” asks Fancypants like how a father would ask an unruly child trying to sneak their out of their punishment. He’s also wearing a bathrobe and levitating a plate of cheese and crackers with a glass of milk.

Trixie looks down and shuffles her hoof on the ground.

“Uh, midnight stroll?” offers Trixie.

“Bernese is a long way to take a midnight stroll, especially during curfew.”

“How did you hear all that!”

He points to the window. “Window was open.” Then he points to the stairs. “Now off to bed with you. We’ll talk about your unruly behavior when I’m actually awake.”

“Fancypants I can’t stay here! I have to go to Bernese and get those files!”

“Do you honestly trust Monte? He worked for Gilda and she almost killed you!”

“Me and Monte have a common enemy! We need each other if we’re going to take out Brisk Wind.”

Fancypants shakes his head, saying: “You aren’t going anywhere. Going against Brisk Wind is too dangerous, and going with Monte makes it even more so. Besides, Captain Armor will find a way to prosecute her with or without your help.”

Trixie stomps her hoof. “But he needs those files! Monte can get those files and I can protect him!”

Fancypants sighs and puts down his midnight snack, and Trixie continues to stare at him with defiance.

“Trixie, I’m begging you, don’t do this,” pleads Fancypants. “You have no idea what Brisk Wind is capable of.”

“I think I know what she’s capable of.”

Fancypants shakes his head. “You’ve only seen a taste of what she can do. What happened with the griffins is what she can do within the law, and she doesn’t obey the law. The world is her playground and the shadows are her friends. If Brisk Wind has even the slightest hint that there is something on her, she will do whatever it takes to make sure it doesn’t see the light of day. She will blackmail whoever she needs to, pull any strings she has to, and hurt anypony that stands in her way.” Fancypants walks forward and puts his hoof on Trixie’s shoulder. “Trixie, I know what she did was cruel, but please don’t do this.”

Suddenly a bottle smashes against Fancypants’s head and Trixie screams and jumps back as he falls to the ground, unconscious with Monte standing behind him, levitating a broken bottle. He puts the broken bottle on the counter, then he takes a deep breath and smiles at Trixie. His smile turning nervous when he sees her eyes wide and jaw dropped.

“Well, now that that is done and over with we can go to Bernese,” says Monte nervously.