Chapter 1: Foggy Everfree
Chapter 1: Foggy Everfree
On a night like this, where the fog lays thick, and both the winds and wolves howl together in unison. Where the discolored, crunchy leaves scuffle across the cold, uneven, dirt road; and the bare, dented trees loom overhead with their long, lanky branches reaching across like dark, thin arms waiting to snatch up anyone that may pass by. Under conditions like these, any sane pony would keep themselves inside their homes, safe and warm. However, there is one carriage riding the rough, dirt road tonight. With noisy, wooden wheels, the wagon creaks and squeaks incessantly, somehow overtaking every other sound in the night. The wagon is pulling a large trailer, bordered with lights, and painted with colorful designs of stars and swirls. Unlike any other normal carriage, somepony would have to pull its weight in order to get anywhere. This one, however, appears to be pulling itself. Protruding from the roof one could see a system of fixed, metal pulleys, and ropes constantly weaving through them like a machine.
At the head of the carriage, there is a compartment with a door, and a bright, red curtain to help shield the windows. Inside, one mare is operating the machinery with a simple pair of pedals, and the ropes connecting to the contraption all the way from the roof of the wagon. The mare’s hooves are beginning to tire from the consistent pedaling, but doesn’t wish to stop until she’s found a way to escape the fog. As she slowly becomes frustrated and impatient, she aggressively swipes the long bangs of her silver mane away from her violet eyes. “We’re not lost. We can’t be lost. Surely this road must lead us somewhere!” She says. “You don’t think we’re lost, do you?” The mare turns her head to look back at the pony-shaped doll sitting on a small, wooden stool, and propped up with its back against the wall. The doll, simple, soft, and stitched together to keep the stuffing inside; has clearly gone through years of age, as the purple cloth keeping the stuffing inside has gotten dull and worn. She looks into the doll’s black, button eyes, almost as if she believes they can truly stare back. “Oh please, I’m not going to turn us around. Not after how long, and how far we’ve gotten from the last town. . . Well, you have a bad feeling of just about anything. I don’t even know why I bothered asking you.”
She turns her attention back to the path, and with what little distance she can see in front of her, she finds that the road all of a sudden ends. Panicking, she tries to bring the wagon to a halt, but the momentum is too great. The front wheels of the wagon leave the edge of the cliff, and the nose of the carriage tips downward with them. The mare shuts her eyes, bracing herself for the fall, but the carriage isn’t lead any further off the cliff. Sighing from relief, the mare turns back to look at the doll. “Well, that could’ve been much, much worse.” She chuckles. “Now, just how am I going to get us—” The wagon jerks, and the nose of the carriage is brought even further downward. Without any time to react, the cliff gives way, sending the wagon tumbling down the steep hill. The mare inside is continuously tossed around the compartment as her body slams against the walls each time the wagon turns over. With a loud crash and a splash, the wagon is left on its side, half submerged in a murky pond. Aching all over, the mare tries to get herself together. A dank and repulsing smell fills her snout. Her violet cape and hat, along with her sky blue coat, are now soaking in the muddy water. She tries to lift herself up and out from the water, but is kept to her knees as her head is close to the wall above her. “Rosa! Rosa where are you?!” She calls, scrambling around the compartment. She finds the doll, floating on the surface of the water that has gotten inside. “There you are,” she says, now relieved. She picks it up with her teeth by its leg, and searches for a way to escape. With the door now above her, she turns the handle and pushes the door open like a hatch. Straining from the pain of her bruised body, she climbs up and out of the compartment, but falls down into the pond submerging her body up to her neck. She crawls out from the pond and onto the damp soil, trying to catch her breath.
She takes the doll in her hooves, and notices a long strand of algae is draped over its head. Disgusted, she takes it off with the edge of her hoof, and flings it away as far as she can. With that out of the way, she smiles, glad to see her doll in one piece. Until the sudden realization hits her, and she turns back to see her carriage badly damaged and submerged in the pond. “Oh no! No, no, no!” She removes her hat, slamming it down onto the ground out of anger. From underneath her hat, not only does it reveal her now soaked and droopy mane, but her horn at the base of her forehead. Around it, a pinkish glow forms, as well as the carriage. Her eyebrows tense, and her teeth clench as she focuses. The wagon budges, slowly being lifted up from the water, but after nothing but mere seconds, she grunts from the struggling, and the glow disappears from both her horn and the wagon as it sinks back down into the pond. There’s no way she can pull her wagon out of the pond on her own. She needs to get to the nearest town, and quick. However, taking a good, long look around at her surroundings, she finds she may have a difficult time finding even a road sign. Simply because there is a complete lack of a pathway. The mist is still present, and seems even thicker than above. The trees are all covered in moss, and at the base of their trunks, their roots reach out from the mud. The air is warmer, and humid; and nothing but the sounds of crickets and frogs fill her ears. “We don’t have to go through all that . . . right Rosa? We could just climb back up the hill.” She gazes up at the hill, not only realizing how steep it is, but how high it must be since it is concealed by the fog. “Well, I guess you’re right. We’d better start walking.” She levitates her hat off from the ground with her magic, and squeezes it like a towel to remove all the water that has soaked into it. After puffing it back out, she places it atop her head, and nestles her doll behind the collar of her cape to keep it strapped to her chest.
Now leaving her wagon behind, she travels deeper into the swamp. Constantly harassed by buzzing insects, it seems no amount of her swiping at them will keep them away. Her hooves get sucked in by soil that isn’t as dense as the rest, and has to pull them out with her coat becoming more and more dirtied with mud. As she continues to trek through the swamp, she also continues to gather more mud and grime, infuriating her even further. “Stay calm, I need to just stay calm. We’ll find our way out of here eventually. And when we do, the first thing I’m going to do is take a long bath. . . Oh, ha-ha, very funny Rosa. This is anything ‘but’ an improvement.” Distracted by her doll, she stumbles into a long, green vine dangling from a tree. She jolts from the surprise of bumping into it, but the bottom of the vine lifts and curls upward, a pair of small yellow eyes stare into hers, and a long forked tongue hisses at her. Filling to the brim with fright and adrenaline, she gallops away as fast as possible, screaming along the way. To make sure she’s far from the threat, she glances back the way she came. Her right hoof stumbles over a stone, sending her tumbling down a grassy hill. She lands flat on her belly, thankfully, not into any mud. She quickly pushes herself up from the ground, fearing she may have squished her doll, and a sudden pain in her back kicks in. Upon opening her eyes after clenching from the pain, she finds herself gasping before a saving grace. A large wooden shack, dirty and decrepit, but a pulsing, orange, candlelight in the windows. Excitedly, she struggles to get to her hooves, and stumbles along the path towards the front door. She knocks on the door, and eagerly awaits an answer. After moments without an answer, she raises her hoof to knock once more. Before her hoof can make contact with the wood of the door, a voice stuns her.
“There is no need to knock again. I heard you the first time.” The voice sounds agitated and raspy. The mare can hear hooves approaching the door, and a little slot in the door opens up at eye level with her, causing her to jolt as an eye glares into hers. “Hmm, ‘tis a bit early to be dressing up for Nightmare Night isn’t it?” The mare asks.
“What? Oh, no. This is my uniform. I wear it when I perform on stage. You see, I’m a traveling magician, surely you must’ve heard of me before.”
“Can’t say I’ve heard of the ‘Big-Hatted Filly’ before.”
“Well, that’s . . . that’s not my name. Allow me to introduce myself. I am none other than the ‘Great’ and ‘Powerful’,” she pauses to add a bit of dramatic tension. “Trixie!” She finishes with her chin up and hoof in the air.
“. . . Nope, can’t say I’ve heard of ya Miss Big Hat.”
“It’s Trixie, ma’am.”
“Well, if you’re going to show up on my property just to order me around, then I believe this conversation to be over.” The mare shuts the slot in the door shut, leaving Trixie baffled.
“W-What? Ma’am! Please! I need help!” She pleas, but there is no response. “My wagon crashed a bit of a ways back, I’m lost, and I could really use some help!” The slot opens back up, jolting Trixie a second time.
“What was it you said?”
“I was traveling down the road, my wagon fell into this pond, and I’m just trying to find some help. I’m hurt, and a mess, and . . . I figured, maybe, I’d ask if you could help me.”
“Hmm . . . just a moment.” The slot shuts once again, and it is followed by chains rattling and locks turning. The door creaks loudly as it opens, revealing somepony hidden under a long, black, hooded cloak. “Do come in. Please excuse the mess, I wasn’t expecting any visitors.”
“Thank you.” Trixie steps into what appears to be a living room, and she feels something brush passed her leg. “Ah! What was that?!”
“Oh ‘tis nothing to fret over. It is only Thomas.”
“Thomas?” Trixie looks down, and finds a gray cat weaving between her legs. “Oh! It’s just a cat. How cute.”
“Don’t be fooled. He can be quite rambunctious at times. Especially if he spots any rats or mice scurrying about in the house.”
“Did you say rats?” Trixie, tensing up at the thought.
“Do not worry, I’m sure he’s taken care of them all by now.” The mare closes the door behind her, following Trixie further into the living room. “My dear! Look at you! You look like you’ve taken quite the punishment,” says the mare, noticing all the cuts and marks on her. “Please, lie down on the couch, I’ll return with some things to prevent any infection.” She guides Trixie over a dark, torn sofa where the stuffing is poking out from the tears. She lays on her back, and the mare leaves the room. As Trixie listens to her rummage through some cupboards, she takes a moment to fully examine the room. Just like the outside, the wood walls appear to be very old, with rusty nails holding them together. Then along those walls hang many paintings of cats. Each one is different, and it feels like they’re all staring down at her. Feeling a bit creeped out by the paintings, she turns her head to the side, and notices a white cat sitting atop a bedside table. She finds it strange how she hadn’t noticed it before. Out from under that table, a brown cat emerges to join the white cat’s stare towards Trixie. Soon, cats emerge from every shadowed corner of the room. Some even hop onto the sofa to inspect and smell Trixie. Intimidated by the sheer number of them, she leans as far as she can into the sofa to try and keep away from the curious cats. “Hey! Down from there!” The mare commands as she reenters the room. As directed, the cats leave the sofa. She brings a wooden chair near the sofa, and takes a seat near Trixie with a wooden tray of torn cloth and a bowl of some kind of dark green mush. “Well, I see you’ve met the rest of my family.”
“Family?”
“Why yes, my little friends here are all that I have. I’ve grown so attached to them that they might as well be considered family. Now, this may sting a bit, but trust me, it will heal your injuries.” She dips the cloth into the bowl of mush, and proceeds to dab Trixie’s cuts with it. Trixie cringes a little from the sharp pain, but it quickly subsides.
“Pardon me, but, what is it exactly you’re using?”
“Just a mixture of herbs and some water. Something I learned to make since there aren’t really any doctors and such nearby.”
“Oh, so, how far would I have to go until I got to any village?”
“Let’s not worry about that right now. You’ve clearly had quite a night, so you should rest for a while before even thinking of heading back out there.”
“Well . . . I guess you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right Miss Big Hat.”
“Trixie . . . my name is Trixie ma’a—”
“Why don’t you tell me a little bit more about yourself? I am quite interested to know.”
“Oh, well, um. . . Like I said before, I am the ‘Great’ and ‘Powerful’—”
“Now why would you give yourself a title such as that? For somepony who’s been bruised and battered just by my little swamp here, one may say you’re telling a fallacy.”
“Well, I’ll have you know that I am everything ‘but’ a fallacy. When I arrive to town, everypony gathers to witness the spectacle I can bring to the stage.”
“You seem very confident in your abilities.”
“Of course I am. Anypony would be lucky enough to have me cross their path.”
“Is that so. . ? I hope you don’t mind me asking, but why do you carry that toy with you? Normally, somepony at your age wouldn’t bother to dabble in such childish things.”
“Oh, this? Ah, well, you see. . .” Trixie trails off, nervously trying to come up with an answer. “I’ve had this doll ever since I was a child. I just uh . . . wouldn’t be able to bear parting with her—it!”
“Yes, I see. Do you travel alone?”
“Well . . . why do you ask?”
“I only ask out of pure curiosity.”
“. . . Yes, I do travel alone. And for good reason.”
“And what might that be?”
“Because I have no ‘need’ or ‘want’ for company. A waste of time is what it is. All I’ve ever had was me, and me alone. And to be honest, that’s the way I prefer it.”
“I understand. What would be the point of trifling with some other pony, when all they’re going to do is just slow you down?”
“Precisely my point. . . Say, tell me about these paintings. Did you paint them?”
“Oh, goodness no. I could never produce wonderful works of art such as these. They were gifts. Given to me by a certain somepony I used to be affiliated with.”
“Who would that be?”
“Well, I hope you don’t mind, but I would rather not touch upon the subject any further. Nothing but bittersweet memories they are.”
“Oh, alright.” Just as the mare finishes cleaning up Trixie’s cuts, she begins coughing and hacking violently. Trixie reels back into the sofa, as the mare uses her cloak to try and mask her mouth as she coughs. “Ma’am, are you okay? Are you sick?”
“Please, excuse me for a moment,” she says, hurrying out of her seat and into another room. Curious and concerned, Trixie leaves the sofa and approaches the door leading to the room the mare rushed into. She can hear faint sounds coming from behind it, and as she presses her ear against the wood, she can clearly hear the mare coughing even harder along with occasional spitting. Disgusted by the sounds, Trixie feels she should just back away and wait at the couch. However, she can feel a slight temptation to see what’s wrong. Quietly, and carefully, she twists the handle to the door, and pulls the door until it’s slightly ajar. Trixie quickly covers her muzzle with her hoof, as she is completely overtaken by a foul smell that has erupted from the crack in the door. Cautiously, she gazes through the crack in the doorway to see the cloaked mare leaning over a countertop, hacking into an old, rusted sink. Suddenly, a fly buzzes through the doorway, and along with it, Trixie notices more flies in the room. Scanning the room, she can see the flies are becoming more abundant in the far left corner of the room. In that corner, she finds a couple of cats sitting atop a mound of dirt. Upon further investigation of the pile, she notices red puddled at the bottom. What she thought was a mound of dirt, turns out to be a large pile of lifeless, mangled rats. Trixie gasps at the sight, alerting the cats atop the pile of bodies. They turn to the door, hissing angrily; and the hooded mare, whips around to see Trixie watching.
With her heart now racing, Trixie gallops for the door to escape. Just as she opens it up, the door slams back shut, and no amount of tugging will get it loose. Her eyes dart around the room for another escape. Her eyes focus on the windows, but the shutters slam shut as well. All of the cats in the house hiss and walk towards her, surrounding her as if they are ready to pounce and attack. With nowhere left to turn, Trixie leans with her back against the door, trembling with fear as the hooded mare approaches. “Y-You stay away from me!” Trixie shouts as she tries to use her magic to maybe levitate an object to throw and keep her at a distance. However, no matter how much she struggles to cast her spell, nothing happens.
“Don’t even bother.” The mare chuckles. “Your magic will not work here in my presence. Peculiar, isn’t it?” With the mare closing in, Trixie attempts to jab and kick her with her bare hooves, but every attempt she makes, the hooded mare dodges each one with such swiftness it’s almost unnatural. Clueless, Trixie stands unsure of what do, and is overwhelmed with fright. The mare grabs Trixie by the collar of her cape, and lifts her up off of the floor with just one hoof. In one violent motion, the mare throws her across the room, crashing into a tall, wooden wardrobe. Trixie falls to the floor, unable to pick herself back up, and instead adjusts her head to watch the hooded mare walk towards her. “I invite you into my home, I tend to your wounds, and you decide to eavesdrop? Sticking your nose into places you’re not welcome?”
“I-I didn’t mean to. L-Listen, I’ll just leave and you won’t see me ever again.”
“Oh no, you have it all wrong dear. I don’t want you to leave, not yet.” The mare sits near Trixie, and lowers the tone of her voice to a more gentle one. “You see, I find you to be simply perfect.”
“W-What?”
“Yes, there’s something ‘different’ about you. I can sense it. However, the way you described yourself to me, doesn’t seem to match. Nonetheless, I am willing to take my chances with you. I believe you are the one I’ve been waiting for.”
“Please, don’t.” Trixie whimpers. “Whatever it is you’re planning on doing, please don’t.”
“Now, now, do not fret. I feel this could be something that could benefit the both of us.” The mare stands back up, reaching into the pocket of her cloak. “Do not worry, this will be painless.” She holds her hoof above Trixie’s body, and sprinkles down shreds of grass and other pieces of unknown herbs. She begins whispering a chant of inaudible words, and within seconds, Trixie’s body starts to glow. She soon becomes enveloped by an explosion of bright, white light.
Trixie opens her eyes, and finds herself in no pain. However, the room has suddenly become dark. She raises her leg to reach into the darkness, but touches something that bears the texture of thick cloth. Whatever it may be, it suddenly lifts up to reveal the room. Although, Trixie notices that everything appears much larger. “Ah, there you are,” says the, now suddenly massive, hooded mare as she looms over her with Trixie’s hat held in her mouth. “Now, tell me, how do you feel?” Trixie looks down to her leg, and is shocked to find it completely covered in black fur, and her hoof has now become a paw. Frantically turning and twisting to get a look at the rest of her body, she discovers that she is entirely covered in a coat of black, all of her hooves are now paws, and her tail has now been replaced with a thinner, rope-like tail. She gets to her paws, trying to speak or scream, but it all comes out as small, soft ‘meows’. “What? No, this isn’t right,” The hooded mare says in a concerned tone of voice. “Come now, you can do it. Speak!” Trixie desperately attempts to form words, and is barely succeeding. “You’ve almost got it! Keep trying!”
“Mmmwwha— Wwwhat have you d-done?! Wwwhat’s h-happened to me?!”
“Yes! Yes! That’s it!” The hooded mare celebrates. “After all these years, and so many attempts, ‘you’ out of them all can speak!”
“What do you mean? What’s going on?! This is a dream, it just has to be!”
“Oh no my dear, I assure you it is not. That is why I need you to focus, and listen very carefully to what I am about to tell you. The spell I have branded you with cannot be broken by any means.”
“What?!”
“Unless! You can fulfill one simple task for me in return, as I am the only one that can break the spell.”
“W-What task?”
“There is an island, far from here, that houses and contains every oddity from this land. It is under the control of the monarchs that rule Equestria in an attempt to rehabilitate and domesticate them, so that they can one day roam the land without being considered a threat. At least, that’s what they say. No creature is ever freed from that prison. You must find the one that stands on two, and body bare. Free it, and bring it back here to me. Complete this task, and I will break the spell.” The hooded mare reaches back into the pocket of her cloak, and pulls out a lump of dried leaves in her hoof. “You must hurry, as time has already run thin.” She holds it up to her muzzle, and blows the leaves out from her hoof and towards Trixie. They begin swirling around her, creating strong gusts of wind.
“Wait! Where do I find this place?!” Trixie shouts.
“That is something you must find out on your own! And do not think about running off and revealing our deal to anypony else! It wouldn’t be very wise, as I will be keeping a careful eye on you!” The leaves and winds are now reaching intense speeds, and again, Trixie’s vision is overcome by a flash of white.
Chapter 2: Midnight Shift
Chapter 2: Midnight Shift
Trixie can feel the cool wind brush against her coat, and the swaying of the grass grazing her cheeks. She opens her eyes to find the moonlight above surrounding her like a curtain. She can feel the soft cushion of her doll cradled in her foreleg, and her cape covering her like a blanket. Sighing, she comes to believe that the swamp, the mare, and everything that happened were nothing but a nightmare. A rather strange one, but a nightmare nonetheless. She lets her eyes gently close, ready to drift back off to sleep. “This is not the time for napping.” Trixie’s eyes fly back open as she jumps up, scanning every inch of the woods around her to find where the voice had come from. However, she finds nothing but the oddly enormous, leafless trees.
“Who’s there? What do you want?!” Trixie shouts into the woods.
“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten our little deal Miss Big Hat.” The abnormal size of the woods, the voice, and the irritating nickname begin to add up; piecing itself together in her mind like a horrid jigsaw puzzle. She takes a glance down to the ground, and is horrified to see her new paws, and sleek, black coat of fur. Her doll, which is just about half her size, is lying next to her violet cape, which might as well be considered a blanket with how large it appears now.
“Th-This can’t be happening! This isn’t real!” Trixie screams, followed by her intense hyperventilating.
“Miss Big Hat, you must calm yourself.”
“No! Go away!” Trixie covers her pointed ears and shuts her eyes, hoping for the voice to disappear.
“You must listen to me!” The mare’s voice pierces Trixie’s ears despite every other sound of the outside having now been muted; as though her voice is all in her own head. Trixie gives in, frustrated and out of breath from the anxiety, tears form at the base of her small eyes. “The longer you sit in denial, the more time is being wasted! I will not be able to keep this communication between us active for much longer, so listen. Do you, or do you not, remember our accord?”
“I . . . I remember.”
“Good. Then you know what you must do.”
“W-Wait! You never told me where I can find that place you were talking about! Where am I supposed to look?!”
“As I had said, that is what ‘you’ must figure out. However, I’ve brought you to a place where you may find the answer. Just follow the path behind you. . . I can feel the spell withering. You must hurry, for your sake and mine. As I will be expecting you to return with the creature by tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?! That’s not nearly enough time! How am I going to do all of this by tomorrow?!”
“You’re supposed to be ‘Great’ and ‘Powerful’ aren’t you? I’m certain you’ll find a way. Don’t forget, I will have a watchful eye on you.”
“No, wait! Hey!” Everything has become silent, no matter how many more times Trixie tries to get the mare’s voice to respond. She turns to the long, worn path leading further into the woods, staring into the foreboding darkness ahead. Not wanting to leave it behind, she picks up her cape by her mouth, and can feel her newly sharpened teeth puncturing the cloth. She ties her cape around her neck in a knot, not caring for how much of it drapes behind her. She goes to pick up her doll by her teeth, but is too fearful of poking holes in it as well. Instead, she uses her paws to take and nestle it behind her collar so that it’s tied to her. Wiping her eyes dry, she focuses on the path ahead, and dashes through the grass. Her cape, waving crazily behind her, and her whiskers bending backward from her sheer speed. Yet despite how fast and how long she runs, she feels not even the slightest hint of fatigue.
A seemingly endless chase into the dark through the towering woods leads Trixie to an orange glow at the end of the road. Pushing herself further, she finds not just one, but several bright, orange glows. “Look Rosa! That must be what she was talking about! A town!” A small village awaits ahead, the orange glows emanating from the streetlamps and windows. Leaving the claustrophobic feel of the forest behind, she comes to the open clearing that the village rests upon, following the road into town. Nearly every cottage in the village is decorated with lights, and pumpkins sitting at their doorsteps with eerie faces carved into them. “Hello?! Anypony?!” She shouts. “What are you talking about Rosa? I’m trying to get help. . . Why would I want to keep myself hidden? I need to—” Trixie notices an elderly stallion sitting at his doorstep in a wooden chair, staring wide-eyed and mouth agape at Trixie. “Oh! Hello! Thank goodness, I was beginning to think I’d never find help. . . Sir?”
“Hun! There’s a cat talkin’ to me!” He yells.
“Really, dear? Another one?” An old, female voice responds from the window.
“But this one’s got a doll!”
“Right, well, go to bed dear. I’m sure it’ll go away then.”
“Yeah . . . maybe you’re right. I just . . . need rest.” The stallion enters his home, and the lights inside turn off, leaving Trixie somewhat confused.
“Maybe you’re right Rosa. We’ll just keep ourselves hidden from anypony else.”
“Oh my!” A soft, innocent voice gasps behind her. Trixie turns to a butterscotch yellow mare with a long, pink mane standing before her. “What’s a little kitty like you doing outside on a cold night like this?” Knowing it be best she keep her voice to herself, Trixie remains silent. “My name is Fluttershy by the way, what’s yours. . ? Hmm, you don’t have a collar on you.” Fluttershy suddenly gasps with fear. “You don’t have a responsible owner to take care of you! W-Which means, you don’t have a home! Don’t worry, I’ll take you home with me where it’s warm and cozy.” Fluttershy picks Trixie up by the waist, completely overwhelmed. “Oh, and you’re just the cutest, little cat I’ve ever seen!” Feeling completely belittled, Trixie glares at her, but she doesn’t seem to notice. The mare’s wings spread, and as she begins to flap, they are both lifted up off the ground.
Soaring over the village, Fluttershy descends to a lonely, little cottage on a hill. The cottage is almost completely masked with vegetation, and is surrounded by several birdhouses of many sizes. “Here we are, home sweet home,” says Fluttershy. With Trixie still in the grip of her foreleg, she opens the front door of her cottage to a living room flourishing with wildlife. Birds hovering near the ceiling, rodents and reptiles skittering on the floor; and butterflies, along with other insects, crawling on the walls. “Attention everyone!” Every critter in the room stops to turn and gaze at both her and Trixie. “I’ve brought the newest member of the household! And . . . oh my, I never did figure out your name. Maybe you’d like to share it with all of us now since we’re all together.” Some of the animals tilt their heads in confusion as Trixie is still keeping silent. “You must be a little shy. Don’t worry, I understand exactly how you feel. Let me get you a nice spot to rest and warm up, that purple blanket can’t be enough.” Fluttershy brings Trixie over to a small, velvet cushion resting on an olive green sofa. Laying her down, she also covers her body with a plaid sheet lined with fringed edges. “There, that’s much better. Aww, and this must be Rosa.”
“How do you know her name?!” Trixie shouts as she gets to her paws, causing Fluttershy to reel back in fear.
“I-I-I heard you talking to her.”
“Wha—I was ‘not’ talking to her! I mean ‘it’!”
“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry! We-We can talk about something else if you want.” Says Fluttershy, now cowering with her forelegs over her head.
“Wait . . . you’re not concerned that I can talk?”
“W-Why would I be concerned?”
“I don’t know. Don’t you find it a little . . . odd?”
“I talk with the woodland critters all the time. I can understand you, just like how you understand me. It’s something I found I was able to do since I was little. That’s how I was able to make all these new friends with the animals of the forest.”
“Oh . . . very well then,” says Trixie, accepting the pure absurdity of her ability. At the same time, Trixie feels she has no place to call anything absurd after what she’s been going through. “If that’s so, then perhaps you could help me.”
“What do you mean? What’s wrong? Does your back itch? I’ve met plenty of kittens that always have trouble getting a stubborn itch back there.”
“. . . No. I was actually going to ask if you could help me find a particular place.”
“To scratch?”
“No!” Trixie slaps her paw onto her face. “Listen. I need to find this island. And on this island there’s supposedly a place where these ‘creatures’ are kept. I know it sounds rather strange, but I ‘need’ to find this place. You wouldn’t happen to have any clue about what I’m talking about, would you?”
“I don’t think so.” Crushed by her answer, Trixie sighs from disappointment as her ears droop to the sides of her head. “No, wait . . . I think I may have heard about this just today.” Trixie’s ears suddenly raise.
“Really?”
“Yeah, my friend Twilight was talking about something like that a few days ago. She talked an awful lot about it, so much that it was kind of hard to keep track of everything she told me. She said that she was reading up on an island that’s all the way across the ocean.”
“What else did your friend say?”
“Well, she talked a lot about the history of the island, and that there’s some kind of ‘care facility’ built there. I forget the name of it, but she said she couldn’t find any information about the place. Then she told me some creepy story about it.”
“A story? What story?”
“I can’t. I don’t want to say it.”
“Oh please.” Trixie laughs. “I’m not frightened by ghost stories.”
“It’s not that I’m worried about scaring you. It’s just . . . too scary to remember.”
“Would you please just say it?”
“Fine, but don’t blame me if you have nightmares.”
“Trust me, I won’t.”
“Well, she said: A long time ago, when the care facility was first built, it was a place where criminals and the mentally ill would be housed for treatment and confinement. They built it on an island far from civilization to isolate them. However, at the time, the kingdom was facing a much greater threat. Creatures, monsters, and things that not even you and I could ever comprehend, lurked around every corner. From the darkest forests, to the deepest depths of the earth, they thrived.
“The Princess new she had to do something, and found the care facility to be her answer. She and the Royal Guard set out to capture every last creature, and locked them away in the cells of the facility. As for the previous patients, they were transferred to a different hospital for treatment, all except for one. One stallion, whose heart is so black, and conscience so empty. They say he has to wear an expressionless mask to hide his face. For if you saw it, you would be driven mad at the sight. The Head Doctor who ran the facility had been treating him for years. Until one day, the patient grew tired of it. During one of their sessions, he pressed his foreleg against the doctor’s throat, and took of his mask. The doctor took one look at him, and from that moment on, his mind had been permanently scarred. The stallion who had been treating the insane, became one. He was then moved to Canterlot Hospital, where he is still being treated to this day, but without any sign of progress. And as for his patient, The Princess deemed him untreatable, and locked him away along with the other monstrous things in the facility.
“Some say they are still trying to rehabilitate the creatures so they may no longer pose as a threat, others say the facility has become nothing more than a prison. Either way, their hatred for everyone and everything grows stronger with every passing day. And if they were ever to escape, they would take their vengeance on every last one of us for their imprisonment. Including you.
“There! I said it. . ! Actually, now that I think about it, it doesn’t seem that scary! You weren’t scared, were you?” With Trixie’s jaw hanging low, and her eyes wide, she sits on her cushion without a single word. “Well, I guess you were right, you really ‘are’ brave!” Trixie shakes her head rapidly side to side, trying to snap herself out of the paralyzed state she had found herself in.
“Um, yes, yes, of course. That was just a story after all . . . right?”
“Oh, yes. I mean, hearing myself say it over again, it all just sounds silly.” Fluttershy smiles.
“Exactly, there’s no way something ‘that’ silly could be real,” Trixie says with a chuckle. Fluttershy yawns, and her eye lids droop down as she is becoming overwhelmed with fatigue.
“Tell you what. Since it’s late, and I feel it’s about time everyone got their beauty sleep, you and I can visit Twilight tomorrow. We’ll be able to talk about the care facility all you want then.” Fluttershy wraps Trixie back in her blanket, but is unfazed as her mind is drifting off, thinking only of the story Fluttershy had spoken. “Goodnight everyone, it’s going to be a big day tomorrow.” Fluttershy blows out the candles alighting the living room, and makes her way upstairs, entering her bedroom.
“Big day tomorrow . . . tomorrow . . . hey! Wait!” Trixie shouts, snapping out of the space she had lost herself in. Without grabbing her attention in time, Fluttershy shuts her bedroom door behind her. Trixie groans in frustration, and shoves the blanket off her shoulders. “I don’t have until tomorrow. I need to find this Twilight ‘tonight’.”
“Hey.” A voice whispers above her head. Trixie jolts, stumbling off the sofa and sprawling on the rug. “Woah, calm down. I just wanna help.” Trixie looks up to the ceiling, and sees a small, black bat hanging by its feet from a perch.
“Y-You can talk?!”
“Of course. You did hear me, didn’t you?”
“And you can understand me?”
“Look, I don’t know if you must’ve hit your head pretty hard on something before showing up here, or if you’ve just never met another critter before in your life.”
“No, you don’t understand. I . . . I used to—”
“Be careful what you say, Miss Big Hat.” The hooded mare’s voice interrupts, causing Trixie to glance fearfully behind her.
“Hey, is something wrong?” The bat asks.
“Did you hear that?”
“I didn’t hear anything. So, what were you saying? You used to what?”
“Oh! I uh . . . used to . . . I used to bang my head on rocks.”
“. . . Really?”
“That’s right. It was more like a hobby actually. I guess I must’ve banged my head a little too hard on one of them, and there you have it! That’s why I don’t seem to recall much. It’s hard to even remember my name.”
“I see . . . I think. Don’t get me wrong, that’s odd, but your hobby is your hobby I guess. Although, that does explain a lot I suppose.”
“So, tell me. Are you saying I can talk to ‘all’ animals?”
“Well, yes. You can talk to us, but none of the ponies are able to understand us. Aside from Miss Fluttershy, of course.”
“Interesting. . . Wait, and you said you can help me?”
“Yes, Miss Twilight’s home isn’t far from here. I could show you where if you like.”
“Yes! Yes, that would be perfect! Where can I find it?”
“Here, follow me to the window.” The bat leaves his perch, fluttering over to a nearby, open window. He sits on the windowsill, beckoning Trixie with his wing. “What are you waiting for? Come up!”
“But, I can’t. It’s too high.”
“Too high? You’re a cat aren’t you? Just hop up here.” Considering his point, Trixie dashes to the window, and with one big jump, she grabs the edge of the windowsill with her front paws and climbs the rest of the way.
“I did it! Ha-ha! I did it!” She celebrates.
“You see? I told you you could do it. Now, look this way.” The bat points, and Trixie’s eyes follow his wing to the center of the window. “See that large tree just down that way?”
“Yes.”
“That is where Miss Twilight lives. The only problem is that you’re going to have to find your own way inside.”
“Perfect. Before I go, mind if I ask why exactly you’re helping me in the first place?”
“Well, it’s kind of a code that we follow. Us critters of the night, we’re always there for each other. It’s a precarious world we live in, and we can’t handle everything on our own. Am I right?”
“I suppose so.” Trixie hops down from the window to collect her cape and doll, tying them securely around herself.
“Mind if I ask you something?”
“What would that be?”
“Why do you have that doll? You’re not a little kitten anymore, right?”
“Look, it’s because I’ve had it for so long that I find it hard to part with, happy?”
“Okay, okay. I was just curious is all.” With herself all together, Trixie hops back onto the windowsill. “Oh, and one more thing, why do you need to find this place anyway? After a story like that, I wouldn’t even think of going there.”
“Let’s just say . . . I’m trying to get back something that belongs to me, and I’m not going to let some over-the-top story about some ‘masked stallion’ stop me.”
“Well, good luck. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.” Trixie crouches down, and leaps through the window to land safely in the grass. She turns to see the bat waving his wing goodbye before leaving the window.
“Luck, huh? I’m the Great and Powerful Trixie. I don’t ‘need’ luck.” She then dashes through the streets in the direction the bat pointed, and considering how late it must be, the village now feels completely empty with barely any lights on in the windows. The large tree is now in perfect view, and Trixie can now see the windows that have been carved into the trunk, as well as the door at the base. “So, this pony actually lives ‘in’ the tree. . . What? No, Rosa, I don’t know if he or she has a termite problem. Let’s just try to figure out how we can get inside.” Trixie circles around the entire tree, but finds that every window is shut. She stomps her paw onto the dirt out of frustration, but has difficulty getting her paw out from the ground. She yanks it free, and examines her paw to see a sharp claw pointing out from each of her digits. She raises her other paw, and tenses the muscles in her paw to eject five sharp claws. With one look at the tree trunk, an idea finally hits her.
Trixie sinks her claws into the bark of the tree, and begins climbing her way up. Exhausted and her legs aching, she reaches the top, resting her body on a tree branch like a towel on a rack. “There, we . . . we made it,” says Trixie trying to catch her breath. “What is it Rosa? You like that we’re ‘branching’ out. . . Yes, it’s just fantastic. Come on, let’s get inside and find this ‘Twilight’.” Trixie follows the branch all the way inside the cluster of red and orange leaves, and climbs atop a little balcony where a telescope sits on its three-legged stand. At the end of the balcony is a door that has been left slightly ajar. Behind it, Trixie can see a pulsing orange light. Quietly, she squeezes through the space in the doorway into a hall. She can hear the faint sound of a voice coming from down below. Sneaking down the spiraling staircase, the voices become more audible. Peering through the bars of the banister, she finds a purple, unicorn mare sitting in the middle of the living room with a small, purple dragon across from her, and a lit candle between them. The mare bears an intimidating smirk and glare, as the little dragon trembles with fear.
“Some say they are still trying to rehabilitate the creatures so they may no longer pose as a threat, others say the facility has become nothing more than a prison,” says the mare. “Either way, their hatred for everyone and everything grows stronger with every passing day. And if they were ever to escape, they would take their vengeance on every last one of us for their imprisonment. Including . . . you!” The purple dragon yelps, running into the shadows as the mare giggles. “Spike! Come on! It’s just a story!”
“That’s ‘not’ funny Twilight!” The little dragon shouts.
“Hey, you were the one that wouldn’t stop bugging me until I told you.”
“Well I didn’t think it’d be that bad! And you’re telling me you have to go to this place?”
“Yes, I am, but that story is nothing but simple superstition. When Princess Celestia took it upon herself to ask ‘me’ to take a trip to the island, I just couldn’t refuse! Do you know what this means?”
“That some monster is going to eat you alive?!”
“No, it means that she trusts me enough with such a task! It’s an honor to be performing a task that she said herself she wouldn’t have ‘any’ other pony handle this job!”
“What exactly do you have to do again?” The purple dragon asks as he returns to the center of the room.
“Once I arrive to the island, I’ll be given a tour of the facility. After that, I just have to perform an inspection to make sure the building is safe, secure, and in need of any repairs. As long as I do all this right, who knows what else she may have me do in the future!”
“So, you’re not concerned at all about what you might see there?”
“Spike, I told you, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Okay, well, are you going to be back in time for Nightmare Night? You can’t miss that!”
“I won’t be gone long, Spike. I’ll leave tonight, and be back right when the sun starts to come back up. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”
“But, while you’re gone, what if some tall figure dressed in dark clothes sneaks into my room?! A-And it’s got a creepy cat that wants to claw my eyes out! Or a couple of stallions with maniacal laughs break in to murder me?!”
“Spike, now you’re just talking nonsense. Nothing like that is going to happen.” Twilight is suddenly interrupted by a loud knocking at the door. “Oh! That must be my ride to the island!” Twilight opens the front door to a white-coated, winged stallion dressed in gold-plated armor.
“Miss Twilight Sparkle?” He asks.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Are you prepared to leave?”
“Yes, I most certainly am!” Twilight then turns back to Spike. “Remember Spike, it’s just a story. There’s nothing to be worried about.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” Spike murmurs.
“I’ll be back soon. Try to get some sleep while I’m gone.” As Twilight follows the stallion outside, and Spike starts making his way up the stairs, Trixie realizes she’s found her chance. She scampers back to the balcony with the telescope, and uses her claws to climb back down the trunk of the tree.
“Did you hear that Rosa? It sounded like she was telling that lizard the same story Fluttershy had told us, and that she’s headed there tonight! We have to follow them. . . What? You wonder how far her ‘roots’ go with the monarchy-Rosa! Please, enough with the tree puns already!” Trixie reaches the ground, and can see Twilight entering an elegantly shaped carriage, decorated with streaks of gold over its porcelain white exterior. The armored stallion hooks himself up to the carriage alongside another stallion dressed in the same style of armor.
“Please make yourself comfortable Miss Twilight Sparkle, we’ve got a long ride ahead of us,” he says. The stallions spread their wings, alarming Trixie that she needs to act now if she wants to join them. With her heart racing, she dashes towards the back of the carriage. She leaps, just able to grab hold of the edge of the carriage’s rear. The stallions flap their wings, and the carriage is lifted up off of the ground. Trixie looks down as the distance between her and the ground grows, and she can feel her heart sink down to the bottom of her chest. She climbs through the back window and falls onto the back seat of the inner compartment. Startled by the sound, Twilight, who is sitting at the front seat, glances behind her. She peeks over to the back seats, but finds nothing. Brushing the sound off as nothing more than the carriage itself making sounds, she turns her attention back out to the window to watch the village below. Relieved, Trixie sighs as she blankets herself in her cape to warm up from the cold, and cuddles her doll as she hides under the seat.
“Don’t worry Rosa.” Trixie whispers. “Everything will be back to normal soon.”
