Chapters The town of Wash Margin sat on a forlorn rock just within sight of the mainland. The population might have been three hundred. That might include dogs and cats.
Trixie didn’t care. She was more concerned with when she could leave the island. That was only three years, six months, and eleven days away. Until then, she was known as Private Trixie, the second lowest-ranked Lunar Guard at Camp Driftwood, the outpost that served the town. While her salvation was still three and a half years away, this day was cause for celebration. The new guy had arrived.
Private Melon Rind was probably straight off the farm. His coat was a yellow-green color that looked a little like a melon but contrasted horribly with the purple Guard armor. Melon was a big earth pony who appeared even larger when wearing the armor. He acted tough, but Trixie could tell that’s all it was - an act. She had some experience with that.
But Melon was still the new guy, and that meant Trixie wasn’t at the bottom of the heap any longer. She even had the privilege of taking him out on his first patrol of Wash Margin.
Melon tried to play it cool, but he kept looking around. Trixie kept focused on the middle distance. She had seen everything she needed to see since arriving on the island six months before.
It took twenty minutes to walk from the front gate of Camp Driftwood to the piers. That was about as far as one could walk on the island. Being cut off from the industry of the mainland, the streets were paved with seashell, coral, and gravel instead of concrete.
At the piers, the kelping boats were pulling in for the evening and Celestia was about to put the sun to bed. The two of them paused for a moment, staring at the water and the sun sinking into it.
Trixie asked, “So what did you do?”
Melon looked away from the sunset. “Huh?”
“What did you do to get put on this rock?”
“Oh. I, um, pulled a Flash Sentry at boot camp graduation.”
Trixie snorted. “Which Princess did you hit on?”
“I was really drunk, okay? They changed my orders and redirected me here.” Melon paused, and then asked, “What did you do?”
Trixie waited for him to look at her. She put a hint of a smile on her face. “The Great and Powerful Trixie held an entire town hostage.”
Melon’s eyes widened. “Really!?”
“Princess Twilight had to personally come and stop me,” said Trixie. “Afterwards, I enlisted in the Guard. I suppose the royals decided that they couldn’t waste power like mine.”
“Oh come on, she wasn’t even a princess then,” broke in a voice.
Another pair of guards came strolling up, both of them pegasi. Like Trixie and Melon, both sported older Lunar Guard armor and neither utilized the spell to make them appear as bat ponies. Corporal Meteor Crash had a wide smile on his face. “Is Private Trixie telling about how after she was arrested, Princess Luna took pity on her and offered the choice to either be locked away in solitude...or go to prison?”
Corporal Dusty Daze put on a grin of her own and added, “She should have picked jail. At least there she’d have ponies who couldn’t get away from hearing her talking about herself.”
Melon’s eyebrows went up and he glanced at Trixie before joining in the chuckles.
“Meteor knocked over Princess Celestia’s cake and blamed it on her bird,” Trixie quickly put in. “Dusty tried to seduce the wrong senior officer.”
Melon laughed. “Yeah, but taking over a town? You know the joke about fat ponies being hard to kidnap? Just exactly what were you going to do with a whole town ?”
“Does nopony take the Great and Powerful Trixie seriously!?”
“Oh yeah, sometimes she talks about herself in third person,” said Meteor. He gave Melon a friendly pat on the back and walked away with Dusty.
Melon chuckled himself out. “Wow. A town.”
Trixie snorted and trotted away, Melon hurrying to catch up. She’d already decided not to tell him about the buck me sign Meteor had taped to his back.
The two of them took a different route than before. The island was in a rough D shape and had been formed when a hurricane decided it didn't like the way a peninsula was looking at it. This created something of a natural wharf on the flat side of the D that faced the mainland.
Camp Driftwood was at the seaward side, naturally being built on land nopony else wanted. It was a small compound that maintained the lighthouse and housed the Guard unit. Through some twist that nopony ever really determined, it was just a unit of Lunar Guards. Though to be fair, the island was hardly big enough for more than one kind of Guard.
Trixie had already learned the island like the back of her hoof, mostly through endless walking patrols. There was precious little else to do.
She didn’t exchange a single word with Melon for an hour. She could see him glance at her occasionally, but he probably didn’t want to let her do him the favor of answering questions about the town. Really, there wasn’t much to know.
When Melon did break the silence, he said, “So I bet you had an easier time at boot camp.”
Trixie frowned and looked at him. “What are you talking about?”
“The thing where they made us refer to ourselves in third person. ‘This recruit desires to use the latrine, drill sergeant.’ Since you’re already used to talking about yourself like that.”
“You could have started with that instead of asking a random question out of the blue.”
“Well, did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Have an easier time at boot camp?”
Trixie sighed. “No. Mostly because it was full of imbeciles like you.”
“Hey, I’m not an imbecile!”
“You want to prove that?”
Melon stopped at stared at her. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do.”
Trixie paused and looked at him. She glanced at the shells that paved the street and selected three reasonably intact ones and a small stone. “See this? I’m going to hide this pebble underneath one of the shells and then move them around. You have to pick which one it’s under.”
Melon smiled. “Oh, this’ll be easy.”
The tavern was nearby. The two of them got out of the center of the street and sat down on their haunches next to the building. Trixie began the shell game. Melon’s eyes followed the shells as Trixie scrambled them.
After a moment, she arranged the shells in a line. Melon picked the middle one. Trixie overturned it, revealing nothing beneath. Melon frowned and picked the one on the left. Nothing under there, either. Trixie turned over the third shell, and again there was no pebble.
“Okay, so where is it?” Melon asked.
“It’s not under any of them. You are an imbecile because you let yourself get baited into the argument, let me pick the game, and forgot that a unicorn can cheat using magic.”
“Well, pardon me for trusting you!”
Trixie rolled her eyes. “Check your back.”
Melon reached behind him, pulling off the buck me note. His brow wrinkled. “What’s this?”
“The thing you’ve been walking around with for the last hour. Meteor and Dusty did that.”
“How do I know it wasn’t you with your cheaty magic?”
“A trick is only impressive when one can actually see it. If the Great and Powerful Trixie was pranking you, you’d know it. It was tiring watching you walking around for the last hour completely oblivious. It’s bad enough that we have this old mismatched armor. Much longer and the whole town would be laughing at us - correction - you.”
The two of them stood up. Melon glanced at the note and dropped it in a nearby trashcan. He opened his mouth, Trixie wasn’t sure whether he was going to thank her or complain more, but was interrupted by a bar stool crashing through the nearby window.
“Ah...whoops,” said a drunken sailor, standing on the other side of the broken window and grinning sheepishly.
“Ugh, and the night was going so well,” Trixie muttered under her breath. She pushed open the door to the tavern.
A pink unicorn mare was laughing and drinking with the rest of the boatload of sailors. Trixie teleported the pebble from earlier to the inside of her bottle. When the mare went to take another swig, nothing came out.
“Had a little too much, Strawberry Rhyme?” Trixie said.
“I can still stand on my own four hooves, can’t I?” Strawberry replied.
“By yourself?” Trixie glanced at the sailors. “Would you gentlecolts mind letting her try?”
As it turned out, they’d been supporting her almost exclusively and she oozed to the floor.
“We’re taking Strawberry home,” Trixie announced. She asked Strawberry, “Is your tab settled?”
“I’ll pay it off at the end of the month.” Strawberry hiccuped.
“What about that window?”
“What window?”
Trixie glanced up and saw the sheepish sailor was already opening his wallet. She managed to get under Strawberry and struggled to lift her. “Ugh, Strawberry?”
“Mmm, yeah?”
“How did you get so heavy?”
“Practice,” Strawberry giggled.
“Lend a hoof?” Trixie asked. Melon took Strawberry with just one muscular foreleg and slung her on his back.
“Hey, we were having fun,” said one of the sailors who’d been directly supporting the sloshed Strawberry.
Melon glanced at Trixie and then repeated her earlier line. “We’re taking Strawberry home.”
“Oh yeah?”
Melon narrowed his eyes and upped his tough guy act. “Yeah. Want to make something out of it?”
Even if Trixie saw through him, Melon was big enough that several drunk sailors were not inclined to start anything. He followed Trixie out of the tavern, carrying Strawberry.
“So this is the town drunk,” said Trixie as they walked. “Strawberry Rhyme.”
“Heyyy,” said Strawberry.
“Her place is up the street,” said Trixie.
“Does this happen often?” Melon asked.
“About once a week, so we see a lot of her.”
They carried Strawberry down the street, past the the Chineighese restaurant. Paperwok, the proprietor came out as they went by.
“She drink too much?” he asked.
“Like a fish,” Trixie confirmed.
“Hey, hush up,” said Strawberry. “Who uses paper woks for cooking, anyway?”
“How else you like your takeout?” Paperwok shook his head.
“I could go for some takeout,” said Melon.
“We’re kind of in the middle of something,” Trixie reminded him as they continued up the street, just in case he had forgotten about his intoxicated passenger.
“Oh yeah,” said Strawberry. “There was this thing. I meant to tell somepony, but now you’re here I can tell you.”
She paused, apparently collecting drunk thoughts. Trixie prompted, “Well?”
“Oh, just this thing I saw. S’back of my place.”
She wasn’t making much sense, but that was par for the course. Her door was unlocked and Trixie told Melon to drop her on the bed. Strawberry was snoring almost instantly.
They left the small house. Melon said, “What was she talking about? Something behind her house?”
Trixie shrugged. “We should probably take a look.”
Strawberry’s house backed up to a populated alley. A few small shops and benches were along the way. A large tree functioned as a message board with a few flyers tacked to it. There was also a fresh carving in the bark.
The Gods of War will rise and spread their reign across Equestria. They will continue their long campaign of bloodshed and battle for centuries to come and revive the haunted souls of the dead as their army. They will spread their hate in the name of vengeance on those they blame for their downfall.
“What the heck does this mean?” Melon wondered.
“Some imbecile just ruined a perfectly good night,” Trixie grumbled.
It seemed prudent to report the mysterious message carved into the tree. It was vandalism, if nothing else.
Trixie and Melon headed back to Camp Driftwood. It was easy to locate from anywhere on the island, as the lighthouse was right in the center of the compound.
Aside from the lighthouse, there were two buildings and not much else. Trixie and Melon went into the headquarters building.
“Ma’am?” Trixie called, stepping inside.
“Back here,” called a voice. A door with a small plaque that read Cracked Mirror was slightly ajar and Trixie pushed it open.
A mare hung upside down from a water pipe near the ceiling. A small piece of string dangled from her mouth. She appeared as a bat pony, and Trixie had never seen her without the spell. This was Lieutenant Mirror, commander of the Wash Margin Guard Station.
She let go of the pipe and flipped into the chair behind the desk, spreading her wings to soften the landing. She put her hooves together and rested her forelegs on the desk. “How’s it going?”
“We found a mysterious message carved into a tree.” Trixie recited the carved sentences from memory.
“Is that word for word?” Mirror asked.
“More or less.”
Mirror leaned forward over the desk. “That’s a lot to remember. How is your memory so good?”
“Doing shows requires a lot of memorizing acts.”
“Impressive.” Mirror sat back. “Do a trick.”
“Ma’am, you keep asking me to do that and you’ve seen just about all of them by now.”
Mirror gestured for her to go on. Trixie sighed and popped a few colored sparks off her horn.
Mirror applauded and smiled. “So what do you think about this message?”
It took Trixie a fraction of a second to get back on topic. “Well ma’am, unleashing gods of war on Wash Margin seems a little over the top. Monsters never attack places nopony has ever heard of.”
Mirror chewed her string for a moment. “Could be a cult. This seems like the kind of shenanigans a cult would pull.”
“Ma’am, respectfully, Wash Margin is too much of a boring, kelp-farming town to have a cult problem.”
“That’s fine.” Mirror bobbed her head. “But just in case, I want you to investigate it. Take Private Melon Rind with you. Let me know if you need anything. Oh, and on your way out, if you see Sergeant Hasta let him know I’m looking for him.”
Trixie nodded. “Yes ma’am.”
She and Melon left the office. He had been silent during the whole exchange and looked slightly bewildered. Trixie had also felt that way during her early dealings with the Lieutenant.
They headed for the exit. Sergeant Hasta, the very angry unicorn who was the station’s second in command walked in. He gave them both a look. “What are you two doing here during the middle of your patrol?”
Melon spoke up. “We found a mysterious message carved into a tree and came to report it.”
“Did you forget to call me by my proper rank?” said Sergeant Hasta.
“Uh, yes I did, Sergeant.” Melon’s tough act evaporated.
Hasta looked like he was about to say something else when Mirror poked her head out of her office and said, “There you are, Sergeant. Stop looking at my Privates and come in here.”
Trixie and Melon went out the door, both subconsciously eager to leave the building.
“What did they do to get sent here?” Melon asked.
“Hasta doesn’t like anypony, and as it turns out, nopony likes him either. Mirror, not a clue. She’s been here longer than anypony. She may have actually asked for it.”
There was a light coming from under the door at the barracks, the other building in the compound. Meteor and Dusty were probably back from their own scheduled patrol now. The barracks had separate rooms for male and female. Trixie shared a bunk bed with Dusty. Melon probably had it worse, though, sleeping alongside Meteor and Hasta.
If Lieutenant Mirror slept, it was apparently in her office. That was fine with everypony else. The group of Guards seldom saw eye to eye on anything, but all of them agreed they didn’t want to sleep in the same room with that kind of crazy.
Trixie glanced up at the night sky, barely able to make out the stars because of the glowing lighthouse beam. Melon asked, “So what do we do now?”
“Are you still hungry?” she asked.
“I’m always hungry,” Melon replied.
“Paperwok’s place is open late.”
The two of them went to eat lo mein. Even as big as Melon was, he still surprised Trixie with his appetite.
“Do you come here a lot?” he asked between bites.
“Not really,” Trixie replied.
“Yeah. It’s not that great.”
“You’re still eating it,” she pointed out.
Melon shrugged. He took another bite and asked, “How do we investigate a cult?”
Trixie considered it, listlessly poking her noodles with chopsticks. “I’ve never led an investigation before. As a matter of fact, I’ve only ever been party to one or two.”
Melon looked up. “But you have some experience, right?”
A Private leading a Private. This was what six months’ experience got Trixie. She realized she was either going to have to step up and perform, or at least act like it. “We should go back to the scene and see if we can learn anything else.”
“We can knock on doors and ask if anypony has seen anything,” Melon suggested.
Trixie smiled. “If you want to knock on ponies’ doors this late at night, be my guest.”
“It’s not that late,” Melon protested. As if to prove his point, he went to knock on the nearest door.
“That’s Strawberry Rhyme’s house,” Trixie pointed out. “You can practically hear her snoring from here.”
Melon shot her a look and marched across to the neighboring house. It was a little bit larger and older and even appeared to have a basement, quite a feat for a house built on a rock in the ocean.
Melon was about to knock a second time when they heard the old house’s boards creak with a slow step. The door opened to reveal an elderly earth pony with an expression devoid of enthusiasm on her face. “What?”
“Hello, we saw somepony had carved a threatening message on that tree over there.” Melon gestured. “We were wondering if you had seen anypony.”
“What are you talking about?” she barked.
Melon fumbled. Trixie stepped forward. “Ms. Share, if you saw anything suspicious we’d like to know. Do you have any idea who might have carved a message about gods of war taking over Equestria?”
“What kind of nonsense are you talking about?” The old mare shook her head. “I ain’t seen nothin.’”
“Do you know who owns the tree?” Melon asked.
“Ain’t nobody. Who would own that tree, anyway?”
Melon started to ask another question, but stopped. He looked at Trixie. The homeowner took the opportunity to shut the door.
“Who was that?” Melon asked.
“Her name is Sea’s Share,” Trixie replied.
“How do you know?”
“It’s on the mailbox. Also, I’ve seen her once or twice before. It’s a small island. She sells salt. I hear it gets shipped all over the world.”
The two of them went to have another look at the tree. Trixie lit her horn for a better look in the growing dusk.
“All those words, that had to have taken a while to carve,” Melon commented. “Somepony had to have seen something.”
“It could have been a unicorn,” said Trixie. “That would have made it a lot quicker job. Neater, too.”
“What if...there was some kind of acid or something?” Melon proposed. “Like, they could paint it on invisibly and it would eat the bark away after they were already gone?”
He actually impressed Trixie with the creativity of that idea. However, Trixie merely pointed to the wood chips around the base of the tree.
She took a closer look at the carving. “The tool used could have been a flat screwdriver, or, well, a wood chisel.”
“I wonder how long it’s been here,” said Melon.
“Strawberry could tell us when she first saw it. If we could wake her.” Trixie shrugged. “Let’s find her tomorrow.”
Trixie was more than happy to leave the job unfinished. If she could subsequently find a way to make it somepony else’s problem, so much the better.
She and Melon walked for a few more hours, and to Trixie’s great relief, saw absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.
They encountered Lieutenant Mirror in the early morning. She was waiting for them at the gate to the compound, snapping the cover on her lighter. There was a lit piece of string in her mouth. The sun breaking over the horizon revealed the gold rank stripes on her armor. She didn’t wear a helmet, which was probably because there wasn’t a spare one in the gear locker.
“How’s it going?” Mirror said.
“We didn’t learn a whole lot about the message carved in the tree,” Trixie admitted. “But we have a few things to check out later.”
Mirror nodded and set off to do her patrol.
“Was she smoking…?” Melon asked.
“Yeah. She went through a twine phase a while back. It smelled terrible,” Trixie replied.
The two of them went into the barracks, separating into the male and female rooms. Trixie saw that Dusty was still sleeping and kept quiet. Not the easiest thing to do when taking off plate armor.
The set Trixie wore was as incongruous as any of the others. It was all authentic Lunar Guard armor from the forge in Canterlot, but assembled from a mixture of different eras and variants. Frustratingly, nopony had ever found matching pieces of a complete set even after looking in the gear locker for hours. All the Guards at Camp Driftwood made do with plate and mail from who knew where.
The worst part of the armor was the tail wrap. It was supposed to keep tail hairs from getting caught in the interlocking rump plates, but it was more uncomfortable to have a band around the base of one’s tail. For some reason, it was also the enchanted item that activated the batpony spell. Given the choice, and considering there were never any formal events to attend, all of them save the Lieutenant chose to go without.
Trixie stowed her gear in the locker at the side of the bed. From her personal stash, she took out a package of instant macaroni and cheese and headed to the kitchenette.
Trixie was familiar with prepackaged food from her years of cooking for herself on the road. The only brand of macaroni and cheese available on the island was not a good one, and the label indicated it was made with “cheez” instead of real cheese. There also wasn’t equipment in the kitchenette or money in her Private’s salary to eat much else. She could get standard issue rations for free, but best not to even think about that. Prison food might even be better.
“Come on! Mix, you darn pseudo-cheese! The Great and Powerful Trixie commands it!” she grumbled, perhaps a little too loudly. She heard hooves behind her. They sounded angry.
“Private, if you’re going to waste your time in the Guard, at least keep it to yourself,” ordered Sergeant Hasta. Even talking about the weather, he could sound like he was giving orders.
“Yes, Sergeant,” Trixie replied automatically.
He didn’t go away, and Trixie could see him out of the corner of her eye as she mixed her macaroni. He began again. “You know your problem? You don’t care.”
Trixie glanced at him. “I don’t know what you mean, Sergeant.”
“You’re just here to do your time. You don’t care.”
“Well yes, Sergeant, I did commit a crime. I thought that was fairly common knowledge.”
“But you aren’t changing. You don’t care. You’re just here because you were told to be. You aren’t buying into the idea of the Guard at all.”
Trixie shrugged. “Sergeant, if I’m only here until my sentence is up, why buy in when I can rent?”
Trixie left the room with her macaroni before Hasta could reply. She was fully aware that she would pay for that remark eventually.
Back in the room, she ate in silence, sitting on her bunk with just the light from her horn. Occasionally Trixie thought about what she would do after she was free again. Probably go back to performing shows on the road. There certainly wasn’t anything she enjoyed about policing a rock in the middle of nowhere.
The rickety building made it easy to pick out noises from elsewhere, and she’d heard Hasta go back to his room, so Trixie got up to wash her utensils when she was finished eating. Then, it was into the shower.
Trixie paused in front of the bathroom mirror. She had to pay herself some attention, she reasoned. Nopony else around here did.
Well, then, if she had to treat herself, what did she deserve? Trixie glanced around at the tacky government facilities. She closed her eyes and envisioned the most extravagant bathroom she could. What wasn’t marble or mahogany was gold or crystal. The shower curtain was made of gem-encrusted silk. And it was clean.
She put some effort into the spell and opened her eyes. The magic had put a thin veneer on the walls, transforming the bathroom into her vision. If she didn’t look too closely she could almost believe it was real. It would probably fool most everypony else. Her special talent was illusions, after all.
She wanted to take a longer shower than she did, but after the night she’d had, bed was sounding better and better, After drying off, Trixie canceled the spell and the room reverted back to its previous state.
Back in the room, she slid into bed. The words of the carved tree went through her mind again. Trixie frowned. She shook her head. “Amateurs. If there was really a cult, they spoiled the performance by doing the reveal first.”
She rolled over and went to sleep.
Sundown was coming, and that meant it was time for Trixie to go back to work. Maybe someday she would gain enough seniority to get off this shift.
After eating what amounted to breakfast, she picked up her armor. A spider the size of her hoof tumbled out. It was plastic. Dusty had probably put it there. Trixie rolled her eyes. It might have scared her if this was the first time.
Once dressed, she stepped out of the barracks. Remembering what day it was, she sighed and walked towards the lighthouse. It was her turn to light it.
At the top of the spiral staircase and through the hatch into the glass cupola was the giant lens and the oil lamp behind it. Trixie checked the fuel and lit the lamp with a spark from her horn, careful not to blind herself with the light. She set the clockwork in motion and the lens obediently began to rotate in its mercury bath.
She paused for a moment to look out the window. All of the small island was spread out in front of her in the fading sunlight. She could see the kelp boats in the distance and the skeleton of a wrecked one on the shore right outside the guard compound. Wrecking a boat within yards of a lighthouse perhaps answered once and for all what one should do with a drunken sailor: point and laugh.
The hatch to the stairway opened and Lieutenant Mirror poked her head out, her slit pupils visibly contracting as the light hit her in the face.
“How’s it going?” said Mirror, climbing through the hatch. She took out a small roll of string, biting a piece off and offering the rest to Trixie, who declined.
“Well ma’am, first on the agenda tonight is talking with Strawberry Rhyme again,” said Trixie. “She was the one who initially clued us in on the tree carving but was so drunk last night that it didn’t seem any use to interrogate her.”
“Question her,” Mirror corrected. “There’s a fine line between interrogation and questioning, just like there’s quite a broad line between morning coffee and liquid mercury.” She patted the light pivot. “Never forget public image. A lot of cults do, though, and leave calling cards too close to home.”
“Yes ma’am,” Trixie acknowledged. She decided that maybe it was time to go and find Melon.
He was waiting for her at the foot of the lighthouse and the two of them set off. Trixie hurried. “It would be nice if we could catch Strawberry at home, or at least before she gets smashed.”
Strawberry did happen to be home when they arrived but she wasn’t exactly sober. It may have been the residual alcohol still in her system from the previous night. She answered the door, but seemed to be having trouble standing up without swaying.
“We came to ask you a few questions about the message carved in the tree,” said Trixie.
“Oh yeah. Weird,” replied Strawberry.
“When did you first see it?” Trixie asked.
“Uh...yesterday? Yeah.”
“What time?”
“About noon.”
That was earlier than Trixie would have guessed Strawberry was capable of waking up. “Did you see anypony around? Do you know who could have carved that?”
Strawberry shrugged.
“What do you do for a living?” Melon broke in.
“I make the fruit juice for cocktail mixers,” said Strawberry. “I do a nice trade with the bars.”
“There’s enough need for that in a town this small?” said Melon.
“You might be surprised,” Strawberry replied.
“What do you use to juice the fruit?” Melon asked. Trixie glanced at him.
Strawberry frowned. “A juicer?”
“Do you have knives or anything in your kitchen?” Melon went on.
“Um, my kitchen is the only place I have knives. Why?”
“Did you carve that tree yourself?” Melon asked.
“What are you talking about? It’s not my tree.”
“But it’s closest to your house.”
“Well yeah, but it doesn’t have fruit or anything on it. Why would I care?”
“We have to question everypony,” Trixie interrupted. “Have a nice evening.”
As she and Melon walked away, Trixie said, “You could have asked me what she did for a living. You also could have asked me about the contents of her kitchen, considering I’ve had to bring her home so often.”
“I just thought that she’s a unicorn and she lives close. It couldn’t hurt to ask,” Melon grumped.
“Well, you’re named after a fruit. How do you make fruit juice?” Trixie asked.
“Well...with a juicer, I guess.”
It was dusk, but the houses around still had a few lights on. Trixie walked across the alley to the house opposite the tree and knocked. A mare answered. “Yes?”
“Good evening, Sea Salts. We came by to ask a few questions about that tree over there.” Trixie gestured. “Do you know who carved that message?”
Sea Salts shook her head. “No, but it’s an ugly thing.” She turned her head. “Kingfisher? Rough Tide? The Guard is here and they want to ask a few questions.”
Her husband and their son joined her at the door. Trixie repeated her question. Kingfisher shook his head. “Don’t know anything about it. I saw it yesterday morning and wondered who did it.”
“And what about you?” Trixie asked the colt. “Do you know if anypony might have done that for fun? I know it can be boring around here.”
Rough Tide eagerly said, “No, I was in school when it happened. I have witnesses!”
“First time he’s been happy about being in school,” Kingfisher chuckled.
“If you think of anything else, let us know,” said Trixie.
“You seem to know them well,” Melon commented as they turned to resume their patrol.
“Kingfisher works for the local wildlife department. Sea Salts stays home. She does bath salts, smelling salts, seasoned salts, et cetera.”
“Too bad they didn’t know much about the case,” Melon lamented.
Trixie grumbled. “All we know for certain is that the tree was carved no later than yesterday morning. It’s a threatening message, but the only real crime is vandalism and it might not even be that because nopony claims ownership of the tree.”
“But the message is pretty threatening,” Melon said.
Trixie sighed. “But words don’t do anything. At least when it was time to make Twilight Sparkle pay for the humiliation she caused, the Great and Powerful Trixie actually went out and took a few hundred hostages.”
Melon paused and then asked, “So what if whoever carved the tree turns out to have that much motivation?”
“That’s the only reason we’re still investigating this.”
Although, as they continued walking, Trixie quickly found a new reason. As the two of them turned the corner onto the next block, an unattended kelp wagon came barreling their way. Trixie and Melon leaped to the side. The wagon crashed into a row of newspaper boxes and spewed paper all over the street.
“Wow, where did that come from?” Melon said, as the two of them looked at the mess. “Did somepony forget to block the wheels?”
“Wheels,” Trixie grumbled. “No, that had to be intentional. Do you see any hill it could have rolled down? Somepony was trying to flatten us.”
She pointed her horn up and launched a bright white illumination flare. It lit up most of the street, including a flash of yellow and orange as somepony ducked into a gap between buildings.
“After them!” She and Melon dashed forward in pursuit. He made it to the gap first, finding room to only fit through in single file. Behind him, Trixie could only see his hindquarters as they ran.
Melon pulled up short as they came to a disjointed jumble of backyards. Trixie lit her horn and glanced at the ground, finding only a mishmash of tracks.
They emerged onto a street near the waterfront. The crowds weren’t heavy, but enough bar-crawling ponies were still within sight to easily conceal any suspicious miscreant.
Trixie stomped a hoof. “Gone.” She shook her head. “We should report this.”
Back at the compound, they found the Sergeant and both Corporals out front of the headquarters building. Hasta seemed to be in the middle of chewing out Meteor and Dusty for something. While Trixie certainly didn’t relish interrupting him, she felt that “Somepony just tried to kill us, Sergeant,” got his attention.
“What did you do?” he demanded.
“We had just left the scene of the investigation when-”
“What investigation?”
“LT told us to find whoever carved a weird message on a tree, Sergeant.”
“She didn’t tell me about this,” Hasta growled.
“Well, we were doing what she told us and then somepony nearly flattened us with a wagon,” Trixie explained. “There might be more than just vandalism to this case, Sergeant.”
“What’s this about a carved tree?” Hasta asked.
Trixie told him the story. Hasta shook his head. “A threatening message on a tree doesn’t sound important.”
“Well, Lieutenant Mirror thought it was the work of a cult,” Trixie explained.
“Yeah, but you have to remember, the Lieutenant’s crazy ,” said Dusty.
“Sometimes I wonder if we replaced her string with hemp rope if that would actually make her act normal,” added Meteor.
“You’re both insubordinate for talking about your superior officer like that,” said Hasta. “Though I think we can all agree that she produces Good Idea Fairies like it’s a profitable business.”
“Oh, but I am the Good Idea Fairy,” said Lieutenant Mirror, coming out of the building.
There was an awkward silence.
Trixie piped up. “Ma’am, somepony just attacked us. We didn’t catch them, but-” Trixie paused, remembering what she had seen. “We do have a partial description.”
Mirror grinned and rubbed her hooves together. “Have I got just the plan for you.”
“Ma’am, what’s this about an investigation?” Hasta asked.
“Come with me to my office,” said Mirror. “Private Trixie, go find a way to make yourself not look like a Guard. This is going to be awesome.”
Putting together a whole new stage presence and an outfit to go along with it wasn’t easy when Trixie had absolutely nothing to use.
Frustrated after scrounging the entire Guard compound and turning up nothing, Trixie finally found some material from which to fashion a cape and a hat.
The wrecked kelping boat at the base of the lighthouse still retained scraps of sail, and Trixie was able to salvage enough to create an outfit. She didn’t have anything with which to dye the material, but was able to draw a few bright yellow stars for decoration with the “cheez” from her macaroni.
Perhaps the hardest part of her costume was the new name to go with it. Trixie was quite attached to herself, and coming up with fake identities was not her strong suit. It was the next evening, when her little performance was scheduled, before she finally settled on a choice.
As the sun began to set, Trixie appeared at the waterfront with her hat and cape. Ponies were already starting to stare. Between the outfit and the fact that Trixie was usually seen around Wash Margin while wearing her armor, she was confident that the disguise would work.
Apple Waves, one of the obligatory estranged relatives of the Apple Family that could be found all across Equestria, was unloading his boat. He wore an old hat and suspenders, which was slightly odd considering his lack of pants. Trixie spotted an old apple crate and asked, “Could I borrow this?”
He grunted and shrugged, which she took to mean yes. Selecting a position on the wharf, Trixie stepped onto the crate and called, “All you who see me gaze with wonder on the Amazing and Superb Sapphire, the most awe-inspiring magician in Equestria!”
And if that didn't get their attention, the short fanfare of fireworks from her horn certainly did. She already had a small crowd watching and more ponies were coming closer to see what was going on.
Trixie spotted Melon out of armor and standing with his back to a nearby building. He was supposed to be watching the crowd for any sign of the pony who’d rolled the wagon after them, but Trixie occasionally saw his eyes stray to her act. Lieutenant Mirror had said that she too would be around, but Trixie hadn't seen her. The other Guards were supposed to be camped out and waiting behind a building one block away.
Putting on her best showbusiness grin, Trixie launched into the performance. “Prepare to be amazed as the Amazing and Superb Sapphire performs tricks never before seen by pony eyes! Tricks that will astound, amaze, and astonish! Tricks that will blow your mind !”
“What about blowing something else?” a sailor called. The crowd chuckled.
Trixie pointed her horn at him and cast a spell with a flourish. Foundation, rouge, and lipstick popped into existence on the stallion’s face and Trixie conjured up a mirror just so he could see what she had done as well as anypony else could. Trixie winked. “Sorry sugar, I don’t swing that way.”
The crowd roared with laughter. Trixie pulled out a deck of playing cards she’d taken from the barracks and spun them around her. A couple of clamshells she’d found empty on the beach clacked along as they circled her on the makeshift stage.
A filly had managed to get to the front of the crowd. Trixie offered shuffled the deck and presented it. “Pick a card, any card.”
The little pony plucked one out. “Remember it,” Trixie said. The filly nodded and Trixie shuffled the card back into the deck. She closed her eyes for effect and turned her head away.
“And...this is your card!” Trixie presented it. In the overall glow of her magic, nopony noticed that Trixie had kept a special grip on the returned card the whole time. Really, magic was kind of like cheating.
The filly and the rest of the crowd loved it, though. Trixie tossed the cards into the air in a spray, bringing them down to hover around her again.
While the crowd was distracted, Trixie took a moment to look around. Dozens of ponies had shown up and more were on the way. One of them was an orange pegasus stallion with a spiky yellow mane and tail. Trixie’s eyes narrowed. His coloring matched the brief glimpse she’d gotten the previous night. Him being a pegasus could explain how he’d escaped so easily.
Suppressing her feeling of foolishness at forgetting to check the sky, Trixie put her plan into motion. She pointedly glanced around the crowd. “For the next act, the Amazing and Superb Sapphire will need a volunteer.”
Hooves went up. Trixie pointed. “You there! What’s your name?”
The orange stallion she’d indicated hadn’t been volunteering, but he replied, “I’m Shock Factor.”
Trixie remembered him now. He ran an emporium and used high-pressure sales tactics. “Would you come over here? I won’t bite.” Wink . “Much.”
Shock Factor looked reluctant, but with his attitude around town for boldness, he couldn’t back down. He walked over to where Trixie was standing.
Melon had started to move through the crowd, but hadn’t timed it well enough to catch up to Shock Factor. The plan had been for him and Mirror to arrest whoever Trixie identified as the culprit, the “volunteer.” Failing that, the other guards could move in for backup.
Seeing that Melon was lagging behind and still not seeing Mirror, Trixie decided to take matters into her own hooves. “The Amazing and Superb Sapphire will now make this stallion disappear!”
“Wait, what?” said Shock Factor.
Trixie blasted him. Sure enough, there was a sparkle of colored lights and he vanished. If Trixie had aimed right, he would reappear on the next block in the midst of the other three Guards. Shock Factor certainly wouldn’t be expecting that.
Though, it was just about that time that Trixie realized a kink in her plan: if she was doing her tricks right, nopony would be expecting what happened next.
The crowd certainly hadn’t expected it. All of them broke into wild cheering. Staying in character, Trixie fired off a grand finale of magical fireworks and took a bow. “Thank you all, you’ve been a wonderful audience!”
Internally, she hoped Hasta, Meteor, and Dusty had the presence of mind to arrest Shock Factor when he appeared suddenly. Heck, Hasta would probably arrest him for being a public nuisance for having the audacity to be surprise teleported.
Trixie stepped down from the crate. The audience started to disperse. The murmurings sounded positive and a genuine smile found its way to Trixie’s face.
“That was nice. I enjoyed that.”
Trixie turned to see who had spoken and almost jumped out of her skin. She was sure Lieutenant Mirror had absolutely not been standing beside her a moment before. She’d evidently been watching the performance, but now was the first time Trixie had seen her.
Melon found his way through the crowd. “I just saw Dusty down the street. She was calling us over.”
The three of them linked up with the other guards. Shock Factor was tied up from tail to muzzle, his nose in the corner of a building to keep him from looking around.
“Let’s get him back and see what he knows,” said Mirror. “Shame to tip his conspirators. In a town this small, they’ll surely see that we’ve arrested him.”
Well talented with illusions, Trixie had a solution. She took off her cape. “We could cover him. Maybe lay him across Melon’s back. It would look a little lumpy, but nopony could see what we were carrying.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Mirror. In just a few moments they had Shock Factor rigged for transport and hustled him back to the camp.
There was a tiny conference room in the headquarters building. They put Shock Factor in a chair on one side of the table and left him to sit there. Trixie put on her armor and went to rejoin the others.
“Alright, here’s the plan,” said Mirror as the group gathered in the hallway outside the conference room. “At minimum, this guy’s looking at assault. Maybe we can even call it attempted murder of two Guards. We can use that as leverage to get him to give up his cultist buddies. Trixie, you come in with me. We’ll play this good cop-bad cop.”
Trixie was about to ask who was who but Mirror had already opened the door and gone in. She sat down in the chair in front of Shock Factor. Left without a seat, Trixie leaned against the wall and tried to look impassive.
“String?” said Mirror, offering the ball to Shock Factor. He stared at her. She shrugged and bit off a piece for herself.
“Do you know why you’ve been detained?” asked Mirror.
“Detained? I haven’t been arrested?” Shock asked. “That other guy read me my rights.”
“We haven’t yet charged you,” said Mirror. “How that goes depends on what you tell us.”
“Why did you try to kill me?” said Trixie.
“Huh?”
Trixie walked closer and pointed a hoof at him. “Last night. You rolled a wagon that nearly ran over my partner and I. Tell me why!”
Shock glanced at Mirror. “But she doesn’t look anything like your partner.”
“Who said she was?” Trixie demanded. “So clearly you remember the ponies you actually attacked. That’s practically a confession right there.”
“Look, this doesn’t have to be difficult,” said Mirror soothingly.
Shock began, “Okay-”
Mirror flipped the table, baring her fangs and screaming, “Tell me who you’re working for!”
Looks like Shock Factor got a little bit of a shock factor, Trixie thought as the prisoner squeaked and recoiled, upsetting his chair. She set him up again. “We don’t think you’re working alone. Just tell us who else is involved.”
“I...I can’t,” Shock stuttered.
“Why not?” Trixie asked.
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“When they return, if...if I tell anypony, the Gods of War will eat me.”
The other Guards had been listening through the thin walls of the conference room and were fully caught up when Mirror and Trixie came out.
“Forget jail, he needs a cuckoo cage,” suggested Hasta.
Mirror shook her head. “Cultists.”
Trixie added, “Imbeciles.”
Shock Factor refused to give up anything else. He made conversation, but clammed up when the subject strayed anywhere near the supposed Gods of War.
There was no proper holding facility, so they kept him shut in the conference room with a guard on duty. The requirement put additional strain on the others, especially since it seemed unwise for the guards to patrol Wash Margin alone with threatening ponies out there. So despite her magic show earlier in the evening, Trixie’s shift that night was far from over.
She and Melon headed back into town, to Shock Factor’s shop. Under cover of darkness, the two of them appraised the place, looking for a way in. The building had two stories with curtains on the upstairs windows.
Lieutenant Mirror had authorized them to search the premises. That might be easier ordered than carried out. The doors and windows were locked. Melon tapped on the door, getting a feel for its construction. “I could break it.”
“No need,” Trixie replied. She looked through the window and magicked up a small mirror inside the building. Using the reflection, she was able to see the inside of the door latch and open it.
“Is it really that easy for the average unicorn to sneak into places?” Melon said, sounding disappointed that he didn’t get to break down a door.
“The Great and Powerful Trixie is not an average unicorn.” She gave him a look. “However, the honesty of the average pony keeps most of them from using their special talents for nefarious purposes. It makes it easier to fool them with illusions, too.”
Melon pushed open the door and the two of them went into the shop. It was full of all kinds of things and everything was advertised with the biggest and brightest possible signs. It was a good thing it was dark or it might have been a sensory overload.
“What are we looking for?” asked Melon.
Trixie paused to glance around before replying. “Let’s see what’s in the back.”
The two of them went behind the counter. Trixie found the lights and turned them on. Aside from the cash register and a receipt book, there wasn’t much else to see. However, an open doorway led to a store room with extra items to replace those that had been sold. There was also an iron safe.
“Can you break into that?” Melon asked.
“Give me some time to think about it,” said Trixie.
At the other end of the room was a staircase. Going up it, they found themselves in Shock Factor’s living area.
His mail was here, but there was little else in the way of paperwork to search through. Likely it was all in the safe.
Trixie was about to discount the personal space as irrelevant until she walked into the bedroom. The sheets were twisted and practically falling off the bed. Trixie stepped on something and saw that it was a small bit of plaster. There were more irregular particles all across the floor.
She looked up. Carved into the ceiling, with a familiar looking script, was a message.
The Gods of War wish nothing less than the complete subjugation of Equestria. They will take anything that which they desire and destroy that which they do not.
Trixie read the message a couple of times. Melon glanced at it, frowned, and looked away. He studied the pieces of plaster on the floor.
Following his gaze, Trixie studied the pattern of ceiling shavings. The bed, despite being located directly under the message, seemed remarkably clear. A few motes of plaster around the bed had been crushed to powder by somepony’s hooves.
“I wonder how long this has been here,” Trixie commented. “It looks like somepony may have slept in the bed since it was carved.”
“They could have swept up,” Melon grumbled.
Trixie frowned. “I hope that doesn’t mean they were getting close to this Gods of War goal and didn’t think it mattered anymore.”
“Who’s ‘they?’” asked Melon.
“I meant the cultists.”
“Oh. For a second I thought you had an idea who might have been here with Shock Factor.”
Trixie considered it. “It does seem likely that there was somepony else. Again, I’ll bet it was a unicorn that carved that. A pegasus could fly close to the ceiling, but hoof-carving something wouldn't be as neat, not to mention doing it while flying.”
“You think they were having sex?” Melon asked.
Trixie jerked her head at him. “Uh...well, maybe. I don’t know why this message would have been carved in the bedroom ceiling, but who knows? Maybe these cultists get off to that kind of thing.”
Melon shook his head. “That poor tree.”
It didn’t sound like a joke, and Trixie repressed a laugh so he wouldn’t wonder what was going through her mind.
The two of them went back downstairs. Trixie paused at the safe, studying it. There was a small plate fixed to the front branding it as a Flim Flam Brothers Tip-Top Quality Security Lockbox.
Trixie snorted. “Oh boy.”
“What is it?” Melon asked, looking at the safe.
Trixie gestured. “The Flim Flam Brothers. Con artists. I’d be surprised if this safe wasn’t held together with chewing gum.”
“Aren’t you a con artist?” Melon said.
“The Great and Powerful Trixie is an illusionist , thank you very much,” she snapped. “But the point is that this safe should be easy to defeat.”
Melon raised a hoof and tapped the dial. It spun a little and he tried jiggling it. Throwing a little of his considerable weight into the effort, the dial snapped off.
“Huh,” he exclaimed happily. “Mom always said I lived up to my cutie mark, getting through the tough rind to the goodies inside.”
“She really said that?” Trixie asked.
“No, but I’m pretty sure she was thinking it that one time she caught me and my fillyfriend at home with the cookie jar.”
Trixie decided not to ask.
The hole in the front of the safe contained a few mechanical bits, and, surprising them both, some ABC gum. Fortunately, that didn’t obstruct the view of which pieces needed to move in order to open the bolts and Trixie’s magic made short work of it.
She swung the door open. There were a few bags of money and a ledger labeled with expenses. There also seemed to be a few personal items like bank account numbers and Shock Factor’s medical records. On top the pile of paperwork was a marriage license application with a picture paperclipped to it.
Trixie lifted the page. The picture showed Shock Factor and a unicorn mare. The writing on the application listed her name as Steady Measure. Occupation: carpenter.
Under the paper were a few other photos of the two, as if they had tried to decide which one to include with the application. Some of the pictures were so old that the pair didn’t even have cutie marks.
“They must have grown up together,” Trixie remarked. “Maybe neighbors or something. Not too uncommon in a town this small.”
Pulling the picture out from under the paperclip, Trixie took a closer look. Steady Measure was yellow with a well coiffed brown mane. “I think I’ve seen her before. She works down at the docks. She might even be there now.”
“After dark?” said Melon.
“Well, she can’t exactly fix the wooden boats when they’re out sailing during the day.”
Trixie closed the broken safe, though it hardly seemed worthwhile. She did at least lock the front door as the two of them left the shop.
She and Melon headed down to the waterfront. Even in the evening after dark there were still ponies around unloading the daily kelp haul or servicing boats. The first trip down the length of the docks didn’t reveal their mark. However, on the second walk by, they spotted her coming out of the deckhouse of a boat with her toolbox.
“How do you want to do this?” Melon asked.
Good, he’s learning to follow the program , Trixie noted. “Let’s go aboard the boat and back her into a corner.”
“What if she teleports?”
“That’s something only powerful unicorns can do.”
“What if she’s a powerful unicorn?”
“If she was, would she be a carpenter of all things?” Trixie remembered that pride came before a fall, however. “But look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll hang back and if she tries anything funny I’ll handle it.”
“You want me to go and confront a potentially dangerous criminal alone?”
“No, I’m asking you to entertain her with the all the magic tricks you’ve been picking up.” Trixie gave him a nudge forward. Melon gave her a look, but he went. Trixie lurked in the shadow of the next boat over.
“Steady Measure?” Melon called as he walked up the gangplank.
Her head snapped in his direction. “Huh? Yeah? What can I do for you?”
“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” Melon asked.
“What kind? What about?” Steady asked. She smiled and turned to face him, prancing a little.
Trixie was already worried that Steady would be unpredictable. That smile was just a little too wide, even for showbusiness.
Melon looked like he was struggling to make up his mind how to answer Steady’s questions. “If you could just come with me back to Camp Driftwood, we could get a few things sorted out.”
Steady’s brows went up. “But what are the questions about? Could you tell me? Who sent you?”
“I’m a representative of the Lunar Guard,” Melon said. “Now, if I could ask you to-”
Steady interrupted, rocking back and forth on her hooves. “Oh, the Lunar Guard? That’s cool. What do you want to ask me about?”
Melon stuttered, unable to keep a handle on the conversation. Trixie decided to intervene. She came out of the shadows and started forward. Steady glanced her way. “Who’s that? What’s this?”
Trixie raised a hoof. “Miss, this is just an inquiry. Calm down-”
“Banzai!” Zap! Steady jumped into the air and fired a spell directly at Trixie, who just barely ducked it.
Melon, for his part, was standing within reach of Steady and made an attempt to grab her. She threw her toolbox at him. It clanged against his armor and knocked him back a step. The tool box fell open to reveal a collection of wood chisels and a few comic books.
Trixie was already shooting back at Steady, whose bounciness made her difficult to hit. She ran off the boat, leaping from the edge to the dock and taking off at a run.
Trixie gathered her magic and teleported after Steady, intending to appear in the air behind her to make a tackle. However, she forgot about conservation of momentum, or lack thereof, and when she popped in, it was at a dead stop. Steady ran out from under her, and Trixie fell to the ground in a heap.
Getting up and gritting her teeth, Trixie tried again. This time, she teleported in front of Steady and caught her across the neck with a clotheslining hoof.
Melon caught up and used his considerable bulk to hold Steady down. Trixie had already conjured up a blindfold to keep Steady from aiming her magic.
“I don’t like it when they run,” Melon grumbled. “But I suppose it goes a long way towards proving guilt. At least she wasn’t as powerful as we feared.”
“Hey! I’m the most powerful carpenter on the south end of Stable Street!” Steady protested.
“Powerfully quirky, you imbecile,” Trixie scolded.
Trixie and Melon dragged Steady Measure and her toolbox back to Camp Driftwood. Even being restrained, she still periodically launched into tangential lines of conversation. Trixie saw that the soft brown color of her mane hid a scattering of wood chips in it, which seemed to fit her personality perfectly.
Lieutenant Mirror was pleased to see them with another arrestee. Since the conference room already held Shock Factor, they put Steady in Mirror's office. Trixie detailed the details that had led them to make the second arrest.
“We’ll have to move fast with this questioning,” said Mirror. “I suspect Steady tried to run because she knew what had happened to her beau Shock. If we don’t quickly get the names of the other cultists from Steady, they could disappear.”
“A word of warning before we begin,” said Trixie. “She’s kind of weird.”
Mirror nodded. The two of them went into the office. Steady was blindfolded and tied to a chair.
“Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, maybe?” Mirror offered.
“No thanks, I’ve already got enough caffeine in me to be able to thread a running sewing machine,” Steady quipped.
Mirror chuckled. “I know that feeling.” She sat down in her chair and turned to the items of Steady’s that Trixie and Melon had recovered. “I’d like to talk about the contents of your toolbox. Is this a copy of Spidermare issue five?”
Trixie frowned, wondering why Mirror was starting off talking about comic books. However, it got a reaction from Steady. “It sure is. I really enjoy how Spidermare used to be so carefree in the early issues. In my spare time, I was working on a painting to capture the innocence of it all.”
“I totally support that,” said Mirror. “How do you paint? Do you like polka dots?”
“I totally do!” Steady grinned and lifted her hooves, playing an invisible guitar. “I wanted to form a band and call it The Polka Dots.”
“I’m so into music,” gushed Mirror. “It reminds me of life.”
“I like life. It’s so lifey. It’s what I base most of my poetry on.”
“I know, right?”
Trixie stood silently by the wall and stared at the two of them. She thought about intervening, but wasn’t sure if that was a good idea.
Mirror went on. “I think life is just so mind-blowing. I want to go out and put up my manifesto everywhere.”
“I know what you mean,” agreed Steady. “To leave my mark and let the world know I was here.”
“I really want to be a part of something big,” said Mirror. “That’s why I volunteered for the Guard, but sometimes I wish I hadn’t so I could help set the world on fire.”
“I completely know that feeling!” Steady leaned forward. “Just doing what you feel and expressing yourself!”
Trixie couldn’t stand it. “Isn’t that what got you here?”
“What-” Steady turned her head in the direction of Trixie’s voice. “Are you saying this is my fault?”
“Well, you did attack a pair of Guards,” Trixie reminded her.
“Like, that isn’t exactly helpful,” said Mirror. She glanced at Trixie, but her look was more interested than annoyed.
“Yeah!” agreed Steady. “You can’t see me for what I am. You don't have what it takes to change the world. I bet little miss Guard couldn’t hack it at her special talent, so she became a show horse for her precious princesses!”
“Now hold on,” said Mirror. “Private Trixie here once put an entire town under a dome and challenged a princess to a duel. What did you do to change the world?”
“I’m putting up notices to tell everypony about the Gods of War. Shock and Share wanted me to wait, but it’s too important!” Steady sat back and crossed her hooves.
Very sweetly, Mirror asked, “Who are Shock and Share?”
Steady’s mouth dropped open and she started stuttering. “No, no, I can’t tell you!”
“Shock Factor, your fiance,” said Trixie. “And I’ll bet the other one is Sea’s Share.”
Even blindfolded, the look on Steady’s face told her she was right.
Trixie and Mirror left the office. Most of the Guards were standing in the hallway.
“What did she say?” Hasta asked.
“She gave up another cultist,” Mirror replied.
“Melon and I can go pick up Sea’s Share,” Trixie said.
“Another detainee? Really?” said Hasta. “I just got a message from central. The transport to pick up the ones we already have won’t be here for another two days.”
Lieutenant Mirror put a piece of string in her mouth and lit up. She snapped her lighter closed. “Sergeant, come with me and we’ll talk about it. Privates Trixie and Melon, go get Sea’s Share.”
The two of them left the compound. Trixie hurried, and Melon kept up.
“Do you think she knows we’re onto her?” he asked. “Should we expect trouble?”
“From some old earth pony mare?” Trixie snorted.
“Sounds like my grandmother,” said Melon. “So yeah.” He paused. “Do you think that’s it? Only three of them?”
“Small town, small cult. Maybe. We’ll find out.”
They made it to Sea’s Share’s house. There were no lights in the windows. Trixie knocked on the door.
Melon shifted his hooves. “What if she goes out a window?”
“Can your grandmother climb out windows? How about getting away quickly?”
“What if she’s asleep?”
“Then we’ll keep knocking.” Trixie raised her hoof again, but a faint scream interrupted her. Her ears tipped forward. From inside the house, faintly, a voice cried, “Help!”
Trixie stepped aside and jerked her head at Melon. “Get us in.”
He knocked the door off its hinges with one kick and the two of them ran into the darkened house. The light from Trixie’s horn lit up the old-lady decorations and aged wallpaper. They did a quick sweep of the living area and kitchen. Another cry came from behind a door.
Without even checking to see if it was locked, Melon cannonballed through it. He tripped and fell down the staircase to the basement below.
Trixie rushed down after him, stopping short as she entered the basement. Sea’s Share wore a robe and stood in the middle of an intricate design drawn with chalk on the floor. Small clay bowls were placed around the perimeter. Off to the side was the neighbor kid, Rough Tide, looking bug-eyed and fearful, though completely unharmed.
The situation didn’t make much sense and Trixie decided she had better take control while everypony was still off balance. “Freeze, Lunar Guard!”
“Yeah,” contributed Melon weakly, from his facedown position on the floor.
“Th-the ritual! They’ve messed up-” Rough Tide stuttered.
Trixie wasn’t certain what Sea’s Share was doing, but she had a good idea.
And when the air split open in front of her, revealing an ethereal void, it seemed that all doubt had been removed.
A very large pair of hooves reached through the tear and grabbed Trixie by the throat, lifting her clear of the floor. Armored protection or not, Trixie gasped for air, legs kicking.
A very deep voice reverberated through the room. “WHO HAS SUMMONED THE GODS OF WAR? ”
Rough Tide shrieked and dove behind a wooden box. Sea’s Share’s eyes were so wide that some of the wrinkles had disappeared from her face. She’d backed up against the wall and looked like she was trying to force her way through it.
The pony attached to the hooves around Trixie’s neck stepped into the room through the fissure in reality. His head nearly brushed the ceiling and his entire body seemed to be made of a dark miasma. He stared at Sea’s Share. “WAS IT YOU? ”
“N-N-” it took her a couple of tries to get the words out. “No! I was blocking you out of this world! Begone!
The abhorrent stallion stepped closer. “TELL ME YOUR SINS AND PERHAPS I WILL RECONSIDER YOUR FATE. ”
Share made another false start before blurting, “I didn’t think you were real. It was all just a story to convince the others.”
The hard stare of the stallion continued to bore into her. Share looked away. “They couldn’t know about what I was doing, about my business. Steady Measure brought the goods off the boats at night and Shock Factor used his merchant contacts to make connections. They’re the ones you want!”
“BUT WHERE DO YOU COME INTO THE PLAN? ”
Share cringed. “I-I had to do something to convince them it was for a reason, something they had to keep secret. I made up the story. Or I thought I did.”
The apparition leaned forward, looming over Share, carelessly dragging Trixie along. Share cowered, looking more frail and elderly than ever before.
They were nearly nose to nose when Trixie turned her head and winked. “Sea’s Share, you’re under arrest.”
The phantom and the portal from which it appeared evaporated. Trixie smirked. “I have to say, as far as cons go, you could have done so much better. Convincing ponies that they were smuggling for you in order to stop some kind of ancient evil?”
She glanced to the side, spotting Rough Tide peeking out from where he had ducked. “Is...is it over?” he asked.
“It never was,” Trixie replied.
Rough raised his head and looked at the complicated setup in the center of the room. “Are you sure? It looks real.”
Trixie dug her hoof into a nearby bowl and tossed some granular material into the air. It crackled and sparked. “This is dragon dust.” She touched the contents of another bowl, blowing her hoof off to reveal a glittering cloud. “And this is star powder. Ponies who can’t do tricks themselves use things like this for illusions.”
She glanced back at Share. “And if you got your hooves on dragon dust and star powder, what else were you able to get? Sounds like you had some kind of smuggling operation going on.” She walked over to the box and lifted the lid. It was full of salt, but by stirring it around with her hoof, Trixie uncovered the glint of gold. She lifted out a heavily bejeweled goblet.
“Smuggling?” Share refuted. “That’s bought and paid for!”
Trixie turned the goblet over. “This says it’s property of the Saddle Arabia History Museum.”
The way Share suddenly found the floor very interesting seemed to indicate that she’d conceded the argument. Trixie turned to Rough Tide. “Just how did you come into this?”
“Ms. Share said I had to help her stop the Gods of War,” he replied. “I...I didn't know what to do. I didn’t want anypony to get hurt, so I helped. She said I couldn’t tell anypony.”
“Sounds familiar,” Trixie observed. “Steady Measure and Shock Factor grew up near each other. Did you recruit them as kids too? How long has this been going on?”
Share didn’t reply. She slumped against the wall, doing an old mare’s version of a pout.
By this point, Melon had sat up and gotten his bearings. Trixie wasn’t sure how much of her performance he had seen, but the way he looked at her, it was enough.
“We should get them out of here,” said Trixie. Under Melon’s guard, Share walked sullenly up the stairs. Trixie supervised Rough.
Outside the house, Trixie spotted Meteor and Dusty across the street at Rough’s house. His parents were talking to them, looking worried. A couple of the neighbors, Strawberry Rhyme included, were curiously looking on.
“There you are!” Rough’s mother exclaimed as she saw him. She met Rough halfway across the street, scooping him into a hug.
“I guess we’re canceling that missing pony report,” said Rough’s father. “Sorry about that, Guardsponies.”
Meteor and Dusty looked relieved that they didn’t have to deal with a missing kid, but curious as to how Melon and Trixie had come into it.
“What’s going on?” Meteor asked.
“So it turns out the whole Gods of War thing was a coverup for some kind of smuggling operation.” Melon shrugged.
“Which we stopped,” added Trixie. “Quite spectacularly and theatrically.”
It was bait, and Dusty bit. “What do you mean?”
“The Gods of War story was made up by Sea’s Share to recruit and control collaborators. We caught her using it on Rough Tide in a fake ritual in her basement. Imagine her surprise when the Great and Powerful Trixie created an impromptu illusion of said Gods. Share was practically falling all over herself to beg for forgiveness.”
“Why recruit a kid that young?” Meteor asked.
“It’s possible she picked up Steady and Shock that young. She probably grabbed Rough because he conveniently lived right next door. While Share didn’t really care about the salt, maybe she thought she could expand her market with the novelty salts Rough’s mother makes.”
“You’ve got this all figured out, don’t you?” said Dusty.
“When you need illusions, or you need somepony’s illusions broken, let the Great and Powerful Trixie handle it.” She winked and turned away.
Melon was still standing with Share when Trixie came over. They started to walk back to the compound to deal with the latest detainee, but Strawberry Rhyme intercepted them. Trixie gestured for Melon to keep going and stopped to talk.
“So, I heard something about smugglers?” Strawberry said.
“They were packing contraband items in boxes of salt to ship them all around the world,” Trixie confirmed.
“You solved the case?”
Trixie took a bow. “That’s right.”
Strawberry looked impressed. “Wow, that sounds complicated.”
“Sea’s Share recruited others to help her, using a made up story about gods of war that would come to Equestria and wreak havoc. She somehow convinced them that what they were doing helped stop the world from being destroyed.” She put on her best showbusiness smiles. “The Great and Powerful Trixie put together an illusion so complete it made a believer out of Sea’s Share who created the story in the first place. She admitted everything, thinking that an actual god had come to pay her a visit.”
“You’re talking like she’s already been convicted,” Strawberry noted. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about drunken misdemeanors, it’s not over until the trial’s decided.”
“Are you saying you don’t trust my work?”
Strawberry shook her head. “No. In fact, from what I’ve seen of you all, you’re probably the best Guard on the island. It just seems weird that you’d be so good at your job and also so boastful about it.”
Trixie stared at her. “What’s wrong with taking pride in being a hero?”
“If you’re truly a hero, or good at magic, or your job, or whatever, others will tell you .”
Trixie’s ears laid back. Since when had she been a hero? Since she’d called herself one? Who else would, after that stunt she pulled in Ponyville?
And why was she taking pride in this mandatory sentence as a Guard anyway?
She shook her head. “Okay, no, not a hero. Instead, you just get Trixie.”
“Hey, you’re still the best Guard around, like I said earlier.” Strawberry smiled. “Just if there’s one thing I’ve learned about getting hammered every night, try to avoid shooting your mouth off.”
Trixie frowned. “Are you drunk right now?”
“What if I am?”
Trixie shook her head and turned away. Still, it was a realization. Nopony liked her, and, Strawberry’s inebriated musing aside, she might have just explained why.
Walking back towards the camp, Trixie knocked a hoof on the side of her helmet. “Imbecile.”
Sea’s Share talked. Not willingly, but it was amazing how not believing in the gods of war could loosen a pony’s lips.
Trixie had been there for most of the questioning, and between testimony from all the detainees, they’d pieced together most of the picture.
The Guards met in the hallway to discuss the case.
“Most of the testimony we gathered supports Trixie’s conclusions,” said Lieutenant Mirror. “Except for the part about the cult. Here I thought we were dealing with bunch of doomsday ponies. Freaking cultists can’t even run cults right anymore.”
Trixie thought Mirror was just sore at being proven wrong, but she didn’t seem to be taking it too badly.
“Sea’s Share is complaining you two ruined her house,” said Hasta.
“It was just two doors, Sergeant,” said Melon.
“That you destroyed.”
“Sorry, Sergeant. I just really, really like breaking down doors.”
Trixie saw a blood vessel about to burst in Hasta’s forehead and quickly added, “Which enabled us to save a kid from a criminal mastermind.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Mirror. “Excellent work, both of you. In fact, Trixie, you’ve shown so much initiative in such a short time that I’m promoting you to Corporal.”
“Oh.” Trixie blinked. “That’s...so unexpected. Thank you, ma’am.”
“Come to my office and we’ll get the paperwork done.” Mirror gestured and turned away.
Trixie followed. Behind her, she heard Melon’s big hooves start to applaud. It was gradually adopted piecemeal by the others.
In the office, Mirror gestured for Trixie to close the door and said, “You’ve really taken to this job. That wasn’t the attitude I got from you six months ago. Have a seat.”
Trixie took the chair across from her. “Well ma’am, maybe not as much as you think. I still don’t like being here.”
“Nopony likes being here. Nopony comes here by choice.” Mirror shrugged and opened a folder that had Trixie’s name on it.
“I just think maybe this promotion is out of place,” said Trixie. “I’m leaving as soon as my term is over.”
Mirror’s eyebrows went up. “You’re displaying an awful lot of effort for being a short-timer. Are you sure you don’t want to stay in? You’d have a much better duty station next time.”
Trixie shook her head. “I don’t like doing this. I don’t want to do this job at all. I just want to get it over with and go back to doing what I love.”
Mirror steepled her hooves for a moment. “I may not agree with your motivation, but I respect a job well done.”
Respect. If Trixie was being honest with herself, what more did she want?
“If your special talent is illusions, why don’t you pretend to like what you’re doing?” Mirror asked.
Trixie stared at her. “I…” She looked away. “With all the illusions...I realized I didn’t know how much is really me.”
“You know what you want,” Mirror said. “You know what you like. I think you know who you are, and also who you want to be.”
It didn’t seem so simple, but Trixie had three years, six months, and eight days to figure it out. She nodded.
Mirror put the paperwork in front of Trixie. “I’ll need your signature here if you wish to accept the appointed rank.”
Trixie signed it. Mirror closed the folder. “One last thing. Canterlot stopped automatically issuing new rank insignia. If you want this promotion, you’ll have to send off for some Corporal chevrons.”
Trixie smiled. “Can I rent them?”
Author's Note
A couple of people have asked questions about Lieutenant Cracked Mirror. Let me put a blanket statement out there that if you wish to use her in your own writing, you can. Just drop me a line.
It's funny how I actually drew Mirror in the cover art before I had any idea what she was like. As Rune Heart and I were working on the story, her character started to develop, although I have to admit it was pretty ad-hoc. Here's all the notes we had on her:
Lieutenant Cracked Mirror. In charge of Camp Driftwood. Never takes off her batpony spell. Possibly insane. Ally of Trixie.
As her personality and role in the story grew, though, I became a little concerned that we had accidentally created a character more interesting than the protagonist.
Her name was suggested by Burraku_Pansa in a chat. He claimed inspiration from the Malkavian clan of insane vampires in the Vampire: the Masqurade RPG and pointed out how well their symbol would work as a cutie mark:
Mirror isn't loony-bin crazy. In fact, some or all of her personality may be an act. She's intentionally mysterious and knows or guesses most of what ponies say about her behind her back.
Though possibly insane, she's still a good leader and a good Guard. There's not enough equipment to go around at Wash Margin, so she doesn't wear a helmet. She understands "praise in public and reprimand in private."
A good leader and a good Guard she may be, but Mirror tends to inspire reactions ranging from confusion (Melon), to mild annoyance (Trixie), to moderate annoyance (everyone else).
Smoking string is one of her many quirks, though if I had to say why, perhaps it and playing with her lighter are both traits of a recovering cigarette smoker. She so rarely takes off the batpony guise that nobody recognizes her real face, such as at Trixie's magic show to keep Trixie from thinking she was performing in front of her boss. She never takes it off partly due to the fact that she feels like she's always on the job, at least around Wash Margin because there's nothing else to do. It's also at least partly due to her extreme quirkiness. She does most of what she does for purposes known only to her.
Here's a drawing by the awesome Ruirik
