Phantasmare

Chapters

Midsummer
New Moon: Whinnychester
New Moon: Dead Moon
New Moon: Noire
Stasis: The North
Stasis: Iceheart
Upon the Wings of Freedom: Dodge Junction
Upon the Wings of Freedom: The Badlands
Upon the Wings of Freedom: The Hive
Upon the Wings of Freedom: Red Wings
Eldest: Manechester
Eldest: The Wall
Eldest: Stonehenge Elderwall
The Living Wind: Canterlot
The Living Wind: Mysterious Magical Maladies
The Living Wind: Windspeaker
Empress: Colt Springs
Empress: Reflections
Empress: Alicorn
Castle: Shadows
Castle: End of an Era
Phantasmare
In the End
Stasis: Beyond
Castle: Friendship

Midsummer

If Trixie was to pinpoint an exact moment that would be the genesis of her journey, it would have been four years ago. At the time, she had just finished a two-week gig performing nightly at the midsummer Greatest Outdoor Show in Equestria in the city of Coltgary.

Having rebounded from an unfortunate incident with a magical trinket less than a year ago, Trixie had been hesitant in accepting the offered contract, but the audiences had loved her. Being able to feed off the adulation of her crowds, and not above munching on grass and wild flowers when travelling, Trixie’s living expenses usually amounted to the materials she purchased for her fireworks and wagon maintenance. The contract fees and patron donations Trixie hauled in at Coltgary would suffice for a full year.

Stuffed, nearly bloated with energy from the vibrant excitement of the crowds during the days as the rodeos were performed, and the glee of ponies, she had decided at last to return home for the first time in over a year, with a few extra books from the stores of Coltgary to be added to her father’s library.

Wanderlust had conquered the blue-furred mare from an early age, and it had abated the sting Trixie had felt when forced to drop out of magical school as she instead travelled. Despite that, the need for home and kinship still claimed her, especially after her failings in life. Unfortunately, sojourns with those she considered her relatives never sated that lust for home.

Home for Trixie was the wheat-growing village of Whinnychester, a more ponydunk place she had never seen, but still home. It was where she had grown up, and where her father still lived.

Through refining of the energy she had gathered into physical stamina, and joining a wagon chain Trixie had encountered on one of the main roads crisscrossing Equestria, sharing a burden amongst multiple ponies in return for continuous movement while she was sleeping at night, what would normally have been a four day journey across the continent had been whittled to a mere two and a half. It was the middle of summer, and tourists and businessponies alike were busy, many of them taking to far-flung towns not serviced by train.

Every time Trixie saw a new wagon, however, ache gnawed at her heart once more even as it inspired her at seeing other ponies with the freedom to go wherever they chose. The last time she had returned to Whinnychester, Trixie’s father had helped her to build a new cart following the destruction of her old one during the Ursa incident in Ponyville. The new cart had lasted less than three months before it had been destroyed by vandals who had heard about said incident. Her lack of money at the time and inability to build a new wagon from scratch by herself had led her to working on a rock farm, and from there it had all gone downhill faster for Trixie than greased wheels on a steep slope.

She had shaken her head several times during the journey home. It would not do good to let herself wallow in shame, when the inability to hide her shame from her father was what had kept her away from home for so long.

Trixie remembered the sunset that had begun to form as she finally came into the outskirts of Whinnychester, her methodical canter turning into an excited trot as the smell of wheat tickled her nose. Hues of pinks, yellows and oranges dueled it out with one another, a natural beauty that had once inspired Trixie in fillyhood to poetry, albeit a passion that had been quickly ditched. It was strange, but that sunset was the image that would always come to mind when she recalled that fateful evening.

“Bella? Is that you?”

She paused, thoughts of getting home to her father dashed for the sake of social niceties. “Yes, Mr. Star?” Trixie asked the red-furred Earth pony who had stopped in front of her on the road. It had only taken a few seconds for her to recognise him. Morning Star had been her neighbor when she lived in Whinnychester, and while Trixie had taken one diminutive of her birth name for her personal identity, Morning Star had been one of the villagers who had always used a different nickname for her. Trixie wanted to sit down on her haunch but abstained, knowing that if she took pressure off her back hooves for only a few minutes, it would be very uncomfortable to walk the last few minutes to her father’s household.

A sad look passed the Earth pony’s face, and Trixie ever-so-slightly tensed, feeling the stirring of a complex pot of emotions. Morning Star was the village doctor, preferring to be called Mister in idle conversation, but he was also the focal point of the town’s gossip network. If you so much as swiped one of Miss Scone’s cooling pastries off her kitchen windowsill, Morning Star probably knew about it.

And right now he was feeling sadness, guilt, a little bit of anger, and a strong dash of something Trixie could only ever identify as resignation.

Morning Star paused for a long moment, surveying her face for a long second, before sighing. “You’ve been gone too long. News never reached you, did it? Your father is missing, Bella, and he may be dead.”

She almost completely froze in place, only her rising hackles interrupting the picture still of a horrified mare. Split-second compartmentalising of her rising panic from the rest of her mental state honed by a life of showmareship allowed her to speak again. “What...what happened?” Her voice cracked, and she mentally cursed as her control started to slip, unshed tears struggling to be let free.

Morning Star shook his head. “An Equestrian Army patrol came into town, and they used a spell to check all the villagers for changelings. They found a changeling posing as your father. It attempted to run away when the patrol tried to interrogate it.” He stood up on his hind legs to pull Trixie in close, hugging her hard. “I’m so sorry Trixie. They tried to capture it to find Chisel’s whereabouts, but one of their spells accidentally killed it, and we haven’t been able to find your father since.”

This time there was no effort to hold back the tears as she embraced the hug Morning Star offered.

Wooden Chisel was presumed dead by the village of Whinnychester, but only the wandering blue mare who was his daughter knew it for a fact. It wasn’t due to a magic spell which Trixie could have used to divine this truth, but because the changeling had never impersonated anypony.

As a race of pony-sized beings looking like a hybrid between an equine and a beetle, capable of impersonating perfectly the appearance of any species close in size, the changelings were a host of contradictions. Even a few years after their existence was exposed on a wide scale following a failed invasion attempt, the general pony population knew precious little about them. They could match the size, texture and voice of any they wished to replace. A mucus they excreted was often used to cocoon those they replaced. They thrived off the emotions of other species, primarily love directed at those whom the changelings appeared to be, using it as their main source of sustenance in place of food and water.

Trixie knew many more details. Changelings were capable of coexisting with ponies who knew whom they were. Her mother had been one of those ponies. And changeling-pony couples were also capable of having foals, with the mare gestating as normal. Her mother, September Midsummer, again had been one of those ponies, giving birth to a filly named Bellatrix Midsummer. A male changeling could sire a pony. Her father, Wooden Chisel, had been one of those changelings.

Changeling-pony hybrids were incredibly rare, however, with Wooden Chisel once telling Trixie there might be a couple dozen alive at any time. While there were more couples than that, offspring were less common, due to the pony transformation imperfection of being nominally sterile. It took, from what a red-faced Chisel had once told Trixie when asked about this, an incredible amount of energy to bridge the special divide and temporarily be virile, energy that was typically only accumulated through many months of cohabitation with a trusting pony partner. And although it was rare for male changeling female pony couples to conceive, it was basically impossible the other way around, due to the energy requirements a female changeling would need to host a foal for many months. It was something only a queen might have access to, and no Changeling queen would expend that much energy for the sake of bearing a foal the pony way.

As a hybrid, however, Trixie had little to worry about. The most invasive medical examination would not show a single difference between her and any other pony, and changeling detection spells would return a negative. She was only a hybrid magically, able to feed off of emotions to a reduced extent. However, she lacked the ability to transform like a changeling altogether, only capable of physical alterations through unicorn magic.

Changelings were capable of using all three subspecies of pony magic, and so in turn, Trixie was lightly capable of working with both the earth and the heavens, her long travels made less stressful as the earth sung to her with every pitter-patter of her hooves, rain and wind rarely bothering her in the less weather-managed expanses between towns. She had wondered sometimes whether her flair for illusions was something that came from having a changeling for a father who could transform, or all her, but lacked the sample size of unicorn hybrid offspring. At the time she had shrugged the thought off; she had never been a scholarly mare anyways.

It was all this and more that Trixie considered as she stood in front of her father’s gravestone. Wooden Chisel had prepaid for the plot, setting it next to the gravestone of his wide, Trixie’s mother, September Midsummer. Neither had expected it would be up so soon. One of the great tragedies of the world was that despite their graves being next to one another, husband and wife would never be buried close. September had been lowered into the ground here in a casket in one of Trixie’s lowest days. A changeling was not fit to bury in a pony graveyard, his body burned and the ashes spread into the nearest river, a custom ponies thought changelings followed from a rumour that had once spread around.

The rumour was actually partially true, but Trixie knew her father would have wished to follow pony tradition in this case. For once in her life, Trixie wished that the villagers would have realised her father’s suspect colour scheme as a pony, black fur with an ashen-grey mane and sea-blue eyes, so close to what the changelings of her father’s hive resembled. But dead stallions told no tales, and Trixie didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye.

And so she found herself hovering over Wooden Chisel’s grave, lacking his body.

In the minutes and hours following Morning Star’s revelation, Trixie thought she had cried enough tears for her lifetime. The emptiness of the building her family had called home hadn’t been enough to renew her tears, but the sight of her father’s gravestone next to her mother’s left her chest wracked with choking sobs, the fur of her cheeks drenched with trickling tears. Trixie’s mother had died when she was young, but her father had always seemed like an immovable object. She regretted that she had not heard of the Changeling invasion as soon as it happened, having been stuck on a rock farm where they were always six months behind the rest of the world. Otherwise, she may have been able to visit him one last time before she made the life-changing decision to put on that Amulet.

Sniffing to herself some more, Trixie blew her nose out, wiping the mucus on the grass, before looking back at the gravestone.

Despite his name, Wooden Chisel was capable of carving more materials than just wood, and had created his own grave, leaving only his death date for another pony to put in. The hammer and chisel he had adopted as a Cutie Mark were engraved in right under his name, a far cry from the more elaborate affair he had created for his wife.

Here Lies Wooden Chisel
Loving Husband and Father

The epitaph mirrored his wife’s, but Wooden Chisel also had his own motto, the last thing engraved in the stone as if it were to be his last will and testament. It seemed generic enough to the casual observer. Trixie knew it was his feelings on his choice to leave the hive and the consequence that came of it, finding love in a pony.

Who Dares, Wins

Trixie didn’t feel very daring at all right now.

Trixie didn’t remember much of the months that followed her father’s death.

It was as if the part of her that retained functional memories was a black hole, sucking in the glittering starlight of all that had been good about her mother and father.

Later on, after the pain and hurt had faded, Trixie would admit she was fortunate she had found out about Wooden Chisel’s tragic end in Whinnychester, and not received the news elsewhere. While her parent’s homestead could bring about raw, painful flashbacks of her time as a foal playing with her parents, it also alleviated the gnawing ache that wormed its way through her heart. Furthermore, the villagers of Whinnychester made the perfect support network, willing to provide her a shoulder to cry on, all while remembering their own fond stories of September Midsummer and Wooden Chisel.

Though she moped, she moped while tugging a plow down one of the many farms, the exertion a welcome distraction from the festering blister of heartache that threatened to burst open at any moment. Trixie may not have been born an Earth Pony, but the egalitarian culture of Whinnychester considered all those willing to pull their weight as honourary Earth Ponies.

Her house had been empty of inhabitants for several months, only occasionally checked in on, maintained for the day the prodigal daughter would return home. The Whinnychesterites had partially tidied up, but left the place partly undone for Trixie to decide how to restore it. When Wooden Chisel the Changeling had been found out, the villagers had ransacked the September household, looking to see if they could locate Wooden Chisel the Pony. One of the more enterprising Pegasi had thought to measure the dimensions of each room and realised the existence of the family’s secret panic room. When the ponies were unable to find the entrance they tore open a wall, saddened that there was no cocoon for them to tear apart. Trixie didn’t begrudge them for the action.

And that was the worst part. She couldn’t blame anypony. Even the Royal Guard who had inadvertently killed her father was anonymous, his spell one of several that plausibly may have struck the death blow. As far as anypony knew, Wooden Chisel was a pony. That would remain the case, lest the eye of the state or the Third Estate be turned on Trixie herself. Trixie desperately wished to be able to extol the life of her mother and father, to tell other people who they had been and what they had done. She still could, but without the unique detail of his being a Changeling, a great part of the story was lost.

But Trixie knew her father wouldn’t have wanted her to expose herself. Morning Star the doctor, who had given her multiple check-ups when she was young; Blueberry Scone the baker, who had snuck her more than the occasional treat when she was just a filly; Red Fife the farmer, who always had a decent-paying task of manual labour available for a unicorn who could pull her weight both with body and spell; Einkorn the slate-furred Earth Pony playcolt, one of many of Trixie’s fillyhood friends and one of few who remained in Whinnychester, who she had had a number of flings with when younger; and many more were all her friends and neighbors. They would all help her get over her loss, and Trixie knew she could confide in them. Except when it came to the truth of her paternal heritage.

It shouldn’t have been such a sticking point for her. Her father had all but abandoned his culture to live among ponies. But it was.

Nothing tore at Trixie’s heart more than when she had to send letters to her ‘aunts and uncles’, bar one who worked for the Royal Guard on the possibility a mail-screener found it suspect, telling them of Wooden Chisel’s death.

It was a clear day out. The road leading west out of Whinnychester wound around several times as it dropped and climbed, but Trixie could see several thousand hoofsteps out to the horizon. She could do this.

Trixie took a deep breath, and summoned her spirits. One step, two step, three step, four step, she moved forward counting one hoof at a time, keeping her eyes lowered and occupied on the dirt road, and away from the distance.

It didn’t work. Within minutes, Trixie felt her hooves growing heavier, as if gravity was stronger the further out she went.

She burst into tears. Following the Alicorn Amulet Trixie had been prodded into going to see a psychologist about any issues she might have developed between the rock farm and the magical possession. It was also suggested to her that if she was returning to performing, it would do well to stay ahead of any mental problems she might develop as a result of constantly being on the road and never staying in any place too long to create connections with other ponies.

At the time, Trixie had hoof-waved away the warning by the psychologist that one big incident could push her over the edge. It seemed she owed the doctor an apology for ignoring his warnings. Whinnychester may have been where her parents died, but it was also where Wooden Chisel and September Midsummer had lived. Somehow, she just couldn’t seem to bear to leave, and her body turned against her when she attempted otherwise.

Sighing, Trixie turned around, looking down the hill she had worked her way up, back into the valley that hosted Whinnychester. She made to trot back down, but paused. Looking back, she saw the moon setting in the western sky, providing little wisps of moonlight even as the sun was rising in the east. Her own Cutie Mark had come to her under the gaze of that same moon. Someday, Trixie would chase the night sky. It appeared tonight would not be that night.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately. What is the nature of this world? We’re born, we live, we die and are returned to the aether? I can’t say I’m anywhere near as intelligent as some of the ponies and griffons who have lived in the past, and I’ll never be as long-lived as a dragon. I’m not cut-out out for that type of deep thinking. Aristrotles formed the groundwork for our modern life today, and I can’t even understand half what he says. From what I can understand of some of his successors who have also pondered the same questions I ask myself now, we should accept our individual lives as a fleeting moment in the passing of a greater whole.

But I don’t want to be a fleeting footnote in history. I don’t want the only proof I ever lived to vanish, as records aren’t duplicated and are lost to time, as my name and life engraved into stone are worn away by wind and water. I’ve always felt that I should have been able to do better. Yet life has always seemed to thrown me around like the wild waves of the undiscerning oceans. First I had to drop out of school, then I lost my mother. Next I lost my reputation, then my sanity and pride, and last my father. Wandering the roads of Equestria and beyond soothed that ache, but even that freedom has been denied me now.

I...perhaps it’s time I make an opportunity of this instead of continuing to merely exist.

Author's Note

So what exactly happened in the four years since finding out her father died to make Trixie like what she was when confronted by Princess Twilight Sparkle?

I know. Because I'm the author. The rest of you will have to stay tuned and find out, in the first full arc of this story: New Moon.

“Heh. It’s not common but some ponies will call a new moon a dead moon. Dead Moon sounds like a good name for me once I get caught.”

Greatest Outdoor Show in Equestria in Coltgary is a reference to the Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth in the Calgary Stampede.

New Moon: Whinnychester

The moon was in its full phase this morning, the moonlight washing all those on the planet below in its divine light. One of its recipients basked in the glow of the moon, feeling at home with it; after all, the moon was a part of her Cutie Mark, even if it were in a lesser phase.

Trixie looked out at the moon, book trailing behind her in a magical grip, letting out a yawn at the early hours she woke up to. With the disappearance of the Mare in the Moon several years ago, amateur and professional astronomers and selenologists alike had fumbled with their telescopes, releasing papers and books on the lunar geography that had been hidden by the Mare in the Moon. Trixie hadn’t kept up with the minutiae of it all, but the opening of an Equestrian library branch in Whinnychester had allowed for her to request copies of the most popular papers. It had freed her wages up for more personal research, such as the book she was toting behind her, a rare tome ordered from Canterlot.

With a flick of her tail, Trixie turned off the light switch for the room, plunging her household into total darkness bar the moonlight streaming in through the window. Setting her book down on the stairs, Trixie opened the latch to the window, before setting up her telescope. With one last glow of her horn, Trixie cast a spell of her own devising to prevent the cool night air from rushing into her warm abode.

Licking her lips in anticipation, Trixie closed one eye as she pressed the other against the lens of the telescope, her magic more delicately calibrating the telescope than hooves could ever hope to. It didn’t take long for her to hone in on the moon. With finesse, she zoomed in, exploring the craters that had been hidden by the massive illusion cast by the Mare on the Moon.

It was said that, much like the waxing and the waning of the moon itself, magic itself had ebbs and flows in its presence on the moon, never quite hitting the crescendo and staying long enough for life to start on the moon and perpetuate. With Princess Luna, Avatar of the Moon, Discord, Avatar of Chaos, and a new Avatar of Magic all aligned with one another, it was believed the next time magic returned to the moon in full force that life could be established and sustained for the first time in recorded history.

Trixie had heard about this, read about it, and even sent a letter off to a professor in Manehatten about it once, but in the end, Trixie would be sad if it happened. Ponies and other species had pioneered new lands in the past, her hometown of Whinnychester having been started less than a century ago, but if the moon was settled, it would become a resplendent mixture of greens, blues and browns. No longer would ponies be able to look upon the enthralling blue-white sheen of the Moon, untouched by any but for one.

“I should probably tip the mailpony the next time he comes around,” Trixie said aloud to herself as she backed away from the telescope, wiping off a thin sheen of sweat above her brow. He had done good work, tirelessly delivering odds and ends such as her telescope that Trixie had ordered from all over the place, be it Canterlot, the Crystal Empire, Cloudsdale and many more. While her father had never been able to see the last few books she had brought home in her saddlebags, she had filled the empty shelves he had built in her time away from home and then some. Her own woodwork was amateurish compared to Wooden Chisel, but for holding books it would do.

Trotting away from her study area where she had propped up her equipment, Trixie maneuvered through the downstairs area. A quick cast of her magical senses showed nopony around; it had never caught anypony, but Trixie had started doing it from paranoia and habit was difficult to break. Quietly, she used telekinesis to manipulate the latch from the underside of a wooden plank before lifting up a part of the floor, revealing a hideaway. The panic room her father had built in place had been discovered when the villagers were searching her house for a possible Changeling cocoon, and so it was no longer of use.

Trixie had instead since torn out the remaining wall and expanded the large living area next to it, but the idea had stuck with her, and she had dug out a small underground section, protected against humidity and fire as well as snooping eyes. Trixie adored cliches as part of her performances, but she would forgo them in designing the new bunker: one had to know where it was, and the only way to open it up was through the telekinetic grasp of the underside latch. She had made a habit of putting her more valuable items in here, and the old book she had been reading about fairy tales involving the Mare on the Moon was one of them.

With the book tucked away in the bunker, Trixie made her way back to the telescope, adjusting it slightly to account for the movement of the moon in the last few minutes. Seeing nothing new to entice her for the early morning hours, Trixie made to zoom out to focus on the stars, and then halted.

There was a dark spot on the moon.

Wait, was that really a dark spot? It seemed to be getting larger. And larger again. Had Trixie adjusted the lens without even consciously thinking about it? No, that spot was definitely getting darker.

Letting out a yelp, Trixie realised it wasn’t a dark spot on the moon, but an approaching object that appeared to be launched straight at her house. Quickly pushing the telescope to the side, she cast the only spell she could think of to be relevant in the situation, a spell that would catch an object and slow its momentum without causing damage. The best analogy she had heard was of it being a bungee cord or perhaps a net.

With baited breath, Trixie cast the spell over the entirety of her western wall, hoping to slow the momentum of whatever it was that was approaching. All too sudden, the object breached the outer limits of her spell, and it began to respond accordingly, decreasing the object’s velocity. It just wasn’t enough, and Trixie wailed in surprise as whatever it was bowled through her open window, knocking into Trixie and sending her rolling over the floor.

“Urgh, my head,” Trixie moaned as she managed to get one limb off the floor, thankful that her horn hadn’t been injured. Cracked horns weren’t unheard of, but while they healed over time, they were very inconvenient in the interim.

Slowly, she managed to make her way up onto her two back limbs, feeling as disoriented as if she had been partaking of distilled whiskey from the surplus grains of Whinnychester. She looked around herself, and at last saw what it was that had run into her: it wasn’t a Pegasus, but it was a winged pony, a batpony in fact, a member of a tribe that had diverged from the normal Pegasi several hundred years ago.

Trixie looked closer, and blinked. The features on this batpony’s face looked rather familiar, and Trixie was able to identify her as female. Her fur colour, including her flanks, were of a uniform slate grey. Slowly, memories of a childhood friend who had she had seen a couple of times in the years since as a showmare that she had traveled to Canterlot for resurfaced. She knew this mare. She was Trixie’s cousin.

“New Moon?!”

Time healed all wounds, but some wounds healed slower than others. Days washed into weeks morphed into months passed over into years.

Trixie felt the burden of time as if it were a giant wave crashing over her. She struggled to break the surface but the sheer force of the tides pressed upon her, leaving her gasping for air in her few moments of respite from time’s relentless march. News of the outside world passed Whinnychester by. There had been something about a giant centaur sucking up magic from the ponies of Equestria, but with their village being so rural, nothing had come of it.

There were many things the orphaned unicorn had found to act as wave breakers. Trixie may have been psychologically crippled to the point of being incapable of leaving Whinnychester, but within its borders she was known and loved even with the loss of her parents. Within weeks, Trixie had spoken with Canola, a grain farmer who was one of her parent’s colleagues, and she was again a vital asset to the farmers.

Unicorns were not exactly quicker than Earth ponies at farming, but they made for a deft hoof in auxiliary activities, capable of stacking bales of hay where others could not or sucking excess moisture out of the ground following heavy rains, and unicorns were few in Whinnychester. Trixie didn’t shy away from the more physical labour, however. While much of her time with the Alicorn Amulet was a blur, she distinctly recalled her muscle tone wasting away and gaining weight as her magic took over for any real semblance of grunt work she had previously performed, such as pulling a wagon along rough roads or smashing rocks. Trixie was still vain, and she had little desire to look on the plump side again. As the offspring of a hybrid coupling of Changeling and Ponyville, Trixie also had passive access to magic of the other two tribes, albeit in much smaller proportions. Her small pool of Earth pony magic helped to boost her endurance over time.

Many a pony thought the average farmer a simple pony. Trixie didn’t disagree with the assessment, but she had nothing but the greatest of respect for them. The schedule set by the seasons, more natural than manipulated this far out, also suited her: she laboured as many as sixteen hours a day outdoors during the late summer and early autumn, then was able to retire to the warm indoors for the winter. It was here, as time passed, that Trixie was at last able to recover, no longer burdened by her own expectations of greatness, and instead learn whatever interested her for the joy of learning and understanding, instead of the need for fame and power.

It had been one similar evening to this, watching the full moon and the countless stars in the night sky above that Trixie thought she could live and die in Whinnychester now, perpetuating the cycle of life.

Trixie had never accounted for the winds of change. Little did she know that where all other ponies built walls, she alone would build a windmill. It started with a literal wind that blew a batpony into her parents’ house.

“Urgh, my head,” the batpony on the floor moaned as she unknowingly repeated what Trixie had said only moments earlier, said head nestled in between her front limbs and wings.

“Yes,” Trixie snorted, her nostrils wrinkling in distaste, “Your head, indeed. Perhaps you should get it checked to see why you decided to fly recklessly to the point you crashed. If it weren’t for my spell, you’d be hurting a lot more than you do now.”

“Huh—wha—?” The winged pony fumbled about, attempting to find purchase on the floorboards with her hooves. Nopony who saw her in that moment could state with a straight face that she was possessed of grace. Trixie found herself wincing; it was just painful seeing her old friend struggle to rise, as if she were drunk instead of disoriented. “Trixie? Is that you? It is you!” The batpony stumbled as she moved along, but finally made it over to where the unicorn was, wrapping a hoof around Trixie’s neck.

Trixie tensed at the contact, neck stiffening under New Moon’s touch, but then the other mare wrapped a wing around her fur, and Trixie instantly relaxed at the soft velvety texture of the bat-like appendage. Years ago, Trixie had lived with New Moon and her parents when Trixie was attending magic school in Canterlot. She had spent many a day off school playing with the other filly, and as fillies were wont to do, had slept in the same bed with her. The soft wings of the batpony had always helped lull Trixie to sleep.

She just hadn’t remembered such little things because of the traumatic ending that always came to the forefront when she thought about that time: being forced to drop out, not because of poor grades or money, but to hide her identity as the daughter of a Changeling and pony.

Wait. Was New Moon crying?

“Oh, Trixie,” New Moon said, tears washing down her cheeks, marring the slate grey colour of her fur. “It’s been so long since I’ve last seen you, how many years has it been exactly?”

“Twelve,” Trixie said, having already done the math in her head. She opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it. Something had clearly occurred for New Moon to come out all the way to Whinnychester in the middle of the night in early autumn. It would be better for the other mare to start talking first.

Unexpectedly, New Moon started shaking, and her crying intensified. Trixie startled at the choking sobs of her fillyhood friend. She found herself at a loss for a few moments before long-dormant instincts awoke. Slowly, Trixie wrapped her own forelegs around the batpony, patting New Moon’s back with her own hooves in a soft motion. Looking out the window at the full moon and the stars beyond, Trixie found herself humming out a soft tune, one she fondly recalled her own mother September Midsummer using to lull Trixie to sleep as a filly.

Slowly, the heavy jerks of the other pony began to subside, New Moon’s loud sniffing calming down as tears streaks dried out on her cheeks, leaving spots of darkened fur. “I remember that tune,” New Moon said at last, sounding melancholic, “You used to hum it every night in bed until you fell asleep.”

“Did I?” Trixie asked, mildly surprised. “It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten ever doing so.”

“You did,” New Moon confirmed, her amber eyes wandering off into the distance as if she could see into the past. Considering some of the rumoured talents of Princess Luna, Trixie gave it a not-zero chance that a batpony might be able to do exactly that. “I remember you managed to get me to sleep one day after my father and mother…”

Trixie waited for New Moon to continue after she had trailed off. Seeing her friend at a loss for words, she resumed humming.

New Moon crumbled instantly. Retreating from the mutual embrace between Trixie and herself, she sat down on her haunches, hanging her head down so low it almost touched the floor. “My father’s dead.”

Trixie felt as if she had been slapped. “No,” she whispered, finding herself unbelieving of New Moon’s words, even as memories of the batpony stallion who had hosted her during her brief attendance of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns rushed to the forefront.

Cognito, better known as ‘Cogs’, had been Trixie’s uncle in a tenuous sense, much like New Moon had been Trixie’s cousin. He and Wooden Chisel, Trixie’s father, had shared a common origin: Changelings that had left their hive and struck out, forging lives in Equestria. Each had fallen for a mare, who had in turn fallen for a stallion, in spite of knowing the true species of their respective husband-to-be.

Cogs had been fairly eccentric, taking the form of a batpony and joining the Royal Guard of Canterlot all so he could woo a batpony mare. It had worked, and New Moon had been the product of their coupling. Trixie recalled Cognito with some fondness. Whereas her own father had made carving, chiselling and sculpting his career, a welcome hand for the many farmers less than handy at repairing wheels and skis alike, Cogs had made tinkering with clockworks his hobby.

“Yes.” New Moon continued to hang her head, unwilling to face the world at large.

“What was it?” Trixie delicately asked, suspecting there was far more to this story. “Did he die on active service?”

New Moon shook her head, “If only, especially after all the effort he went through upon enlisting to make sure the standard detection spells wouldn’t work on him. He was helping install new shingles on a friend’s house, only to trip over some shingles. He, I guess he panicked and his wings locked up.”

Trixie wanted to stop her cousin right there, but New Moon continued, sounding far too detached for Trixie’s liking. “He, there was a section of a gate that was to be replaced, and someone had left the new section right where he fell off, spikes faced up. It punctured his specular gland.”

Trixie’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh. Oh.”

The unicorn didn’t know too much about Changeling biology, but the two biggest things that differentiated them from their more dominant equine cousins were fairly obvious: their capacity for transformations, and their ability to feed on emotions, primarily love, and use them as a source of energy. Although harvesting of energy was a magical trait of the Changelings (and thus had been passed down to Trixie and New Moon alike), it was an organ unique to Changelings that was the seat of their transformation abilities, and retained most of the emotional energy Changelings gathered.

If the specular gland was badly damaged or destroyed, an active transformation would disperse, and the Changeling would no longer be able to use the talent his species was named after. With most of his love energy gone, Cogs would have been unable to even use it for a healing spell.

Trixie could see the scene playing out in her head even now. Cognito the batpony had been impaled in the exact wrong spot, unveiling Cognito the Changeling in a perverse mirror of her own father’s situation. With most of his power gone and in shock from trauma, there was no way Cogs could have recovered. Trixie had enough tact to not ask if he had died instantly without suffering. She had to discipline her wayward thoughts from wandering down a tangent on if he didn’t.

Instead, she changed the subject, “Then, why are you here, in Whinnychester that is?”

New Moon sighed. “I wish we had continued to trade letters once we grew up. I should have once I heard what happened to your father.” Seeing Trixie blink rapidly in surprise, the batpony explained further, “I joined the Royal Guard, just like father. When we heard about a Changeling being discovered out here, he investigated and found out a Changeling had ‘replaced’ Wooden Chisel.”

“Oh,” was all Trixie could muster, feeling as if she had swallowed whole rocks and they had settled at the bottom of her stomach, a feat she had only thought members of the Pie family capable of. “You are a guardspony?”

“Was, and yes, we heard about your little ‘incident’ in Ponyville,” New Moon said, and then looked away. Trixie’s heart went out for her even as she blushed slightly at the reminder of her two encounters in Ponyville. The look on New Moon’s face was so forlorn, if she didn’t already feel sad for the other pony she would now. “When a Changeling is discovered to have ‘infiltrated’ the ranks, the military investigators work fast. They ordered me to report to my commanding officer to explain how I didn’t notice that my own father had been replaced by a Changeling. Mother told me to flee.”

“Wait, what?” Trixie stopped New Moon there, “Why? I thought you and I were virtually indistinguishable from any regular pony?”

New Moon turned back, grimacing. “You haven’t been to Canterlot in ages, have you? Since the Changeling invasion during Princess Mi Amore Cadenza’s wedding, there’s always been paranoia stirring underneath the surface. Working the day shift wasn’t too bad, but ponies were getting really jump at night. It was finally beginning to settle down, but a Changeling dying in public has created an, an almost-panic. Mother, mother told me to leave to avoid the blowback, that it was a better solution than being tried.”

Two separate lines of questioning burned in Trixie, but she decided to ask about her aunt first, “What about your mother? Did Frigor flee as well?”

New Moon shook her head and said, “If Canterlot discovers she married a Changeling willingly and harboured him even after the edict following the invasion requiring ponies to report any suspected or known Changelings, she’ll be shunned, but she legally can’t be touched. We checked, spousal privilege overrides the edict, I think whoever wrote it never even thought a pony would marry a Changeling. Me, me however, I don’t get benefits for being a daughter, and it’s worse since I have a higher duty as a Royal Guard, especially if they think I helped father devise a way to counteract the Guards’ detection spell. I would’ve been locked away for at least a decade for certain.”

That was when Trixie at last realised what had been tickling her mind incessantly. “Moonie,” she slowly asked, finally remembering the pet name she had given her cousin so long ago, “Exactly how long have you been flying for?”

The batpony mare forced a smile, and Trixie finally took note of the little details: the dirt that caked New Moon’s grey fur, the bloodshot whites of her eyes, even the stench of sweat that clung to her that Trixie had so far been able to ignore. “Since late morning yesterday,” she said, and now Trixie could even hear that her words were pained, the other pony no doubt being extremely sore from her long flight.

Trixie narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, no. Unless you led the Royal Guard here, I’m drawing you a bath right now. A nice, warm bath, and then we’ll decide what to do from here. Here, come with me.”

New Moon’s ears perked up at the mentions of a warm bath. “That *gasp* sounds amazing,” She said, letting out a squeak of pain as she got up from her sitting position and put pressure on her back hooves again to trot after Trixie.

“So,” Trixie began talking as New Moon started shampooing her dark-grey mane, “Why here, exactly? Why Whinnychester? Why not some other town?” With a quick glow of her horn, she re-heated the water in the tub. When the house had been built, a large bathtub had been one of her mother’s few demands of her father, which he had complied with. As all three were unicorns, filling it up with water and keeping it heated hadn’t been issues, but Trixie found it excessively large, several pony-lengths in length and width preferring to use the smaller upstairs bath. In this case, however, she felt it a necessity to pamper New Moon. With the amount of dirt that had clung to the batpony, it was already on its second run of water.

“I-it was what mother suggested,” New Moon said. “She didn’t know very many other Changelings, father didn’t introduce many to her. We went through the list, but all the ones we knew of lived in larger cities, too risky to hide out there. Your, Wooden Chisel isn’t around anymore, but you at least knew what he was, and you lived with us when you were younger.” She winced as she encountered a particularly vicious knot in her mane, attempting to untangle it. “It was either here or taking refuge in the Badlands.”

Trixie mirrored her wince at the mention of the Badlands, and said, “Yes, I can empathise with that. Then, what? Do you intend to stay here? I don’t mind, I have more than enough room. You can stay as long as you want, I’m certain there’ll be work out on the fields if you want it.”

“No!” New Moon hissed, before her eyes widened. “I mean, sorry, but I can’t! Look at me Trixie.” She brought a hoof up to her chest for empashis. “I’m a batpony! It’s not like we’re a common sight in Equestria! All the Guard needs to do is release a Wanted notice saying they’re looking for a batpony female, anypony worth their salt will connect the timing with my appearance in town!” She seemed frantic again, and Trixie needed to find a way to calm her down.

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Trixie said, “Don’t most Wanted posters come with pictures and descriptions? Most ponies can’t even tell two batponies apart, all we need is some mane and fur dye and they’d be clueless.” Even as she said that, she attempted to backtrack, realising just how offensive that had been, “I mean—“

“I know what you mean, and I forgive you, tact never was your strongest subject,” New Moon said bitingly. “But have you forgotten, Trixie? Have you forgotten about my Cutie Mark?”

What was that about her Cutie Mark? Trixie hadn’t even paid attention to her cousin’s flanks since she had arrived, more concerned with catching up, and then drawing her a warm bath and supplying the myriad toiletries she had on-hand. Eyes wandering, she looked over to remind herself of what New Moon’s Cutie Mark had been.

There was none.

Oh. Oh.

“Now you remember?” New Moon asked bitterly. “I’m one of those albinos.”

“Y-yeah,” Trixie said, sitting back down in a daze. “I, I completely forgot about it. Even in all my travels I haven’t met another pony suf—, er who has it.”

“You can say I’m suffering from it,” said New Moon, who had sat down on her plot, holding her rear legs in close to her torso, head just poking out above her knees. “I grew a thick skin, y’know? It’s nowhere near as bad these days, the Guards are professionals after all.”

Trixie wrinkled her nose. She wanted to offer comforting words to the other pony, but couldn’t find any. Cutie Mark Albinoism was a rare condition, but it was a real one. Occasionally, a pony would gain her Cutie Mark, only for the Cutie Mark to be ‘invisible’, of a concept that was specifically a non-visible representation.

As a filly, New Moon had loved gazing out at the night sky. She had especially loved the nights around the new moon, where the lack of solar reflection let the stars shine brightest. It had been unfortunate for her that instead of getting a Cutie Mark of the night sky, she had gotten one of the new moon.

A batpony might’ve been able to hide out in Whinnychester for a long time. A batpony without a Cutie Mare would’ve been noticed within days. Whoever issued the ponies of interest notices would not be so foolish as to leave out New Moon’s most discriminating trait.

Trixie wracked her brain for a solution. For once that night, she didn’t find herself at a loss for one. “I know what we can do.”

“Huh?” New Moon asked, looking up from her fetal position, “You do?”

“Yes!” Trixie declared giddily, standing up on all four hooves, and suddenly she was in the bathtub along with New Moon.

New Moon yelped, staggering backwards in an awkward manner, kicking up drops of water everywhere, “Hey, warn me when you do that! This bathtub might be big but we’re not fillies anym—wait a minute, you can—“

“Can teleport, yes I can,” Trixie verified, her horn pink to pick up a brush, using it to work her way through New Moon’s mane. The other mare, for her part, stopped fidgeting after a few seconds as she remembered how the two had brushed one another’s hair when they were younger. Trixie said, “I may have spent over two years in Whinnychester without ever leaving, but that doesn’t mean I’ve done nothing! For every drop of sweat I’ve left behind on the fields there’s, there’s been this thing inside me, pushing me to improve myself, not fanatically to the exclusion of all else, but with zeal. I like to gaze at the night sky, just like you do! I like to read!”

“But above all else, magic! Somewhere along the way I came to detest my own magic, seeing it as a tool and nothing more, even allowing myself to get conned into using an artifact to further my power for revenge. Somehow, someway, my love for magic has reignited itself,” Trixie said.

New Moon’s spirits had been clearly uplifted by Trixie’s impassioned speech, as she was back up on all fours again. “What can you do?,” she excitedly asked, amber eyes positively glowing with an inner fire.

“Illusions,” Trixie replied. “It’s nowhere near as perfect as what our fathers could do. It won’t physically change a thing, so I wouldn’t dare change your species, or even your height or weight, but the colour of your fur and giving you an actual visible Cutie Mark should be enough.”

New Moon’s eyes widened. “You can do that?”

Trixie nodded, “Yes,” she said. “Not right away, however. You need to explain to me how these detection spells the Guards have works as best you understand it. It may take me a few days to reverse-engineer it to revise my illusion cantrip to beat them.” Her eyes narrowed, “The only real problem is I’ll have to renew the spell’s magic every night.”

“Huh? Why?”

“You weren’t born a unicorn,” Trixie said. “You may have magic inherited from your father, but not the right kind in sufficient amounts that I can anchor it to your own body’s internal magic. I can tell you haven’t trained your spell manipulation very much.”

“Oh. Ah,” New Moon said with dawning understanding, sitting back down. “You’re right about that, though. No horn makes it difficult for me, and I never saw much of a point to it when my wings were always enough.” She began to muse, not even noticing as the brush that was still in Trixie’s magical grip moved down to her tail, untangling still more knots. After a few minutes, she spoke again, “But wouldn’t there be a danger of the spell running out of magic during the day?”

“Not really,” Trixie admitted. “For you, it should last at least a few days. Renewing it nightly is just me being paranoid. I don’t want to risk what happened to our fathers occurring to you as well.”

Instantly, the unicorn knew she had said the wrong thing, because New Moon froze up, mouth stuck open, amber eyes watering. As fillies, they had had more emotional temperaments, and so Trixie fell back on the tried-and-true offensive mechanism. “Hey, you,” she whispered to New Moon, striding forward in the tub. “Come here.” The batpony was skittish and whimpered, but relented under the strong grip of Trixie’s strong forehooves, her tension washing away in the warm water and the warmer hug. “Let it all out, Moonie. You’ve been flying for nearly a day, haven’t you? It’s alright, Trixie’s here.”

New Moon met her eyes, and Trixie met them back with an expression that told her she was safe here. There was nothing, and Trixie worried that in the face of her father’s death New Moon had retreated inside so deep she wouldn’t dare poke her head out again, and then…

“WAAAAAAAAAHHHH!”

The batpony buried her head in Trixie’s shoulder, her body trembling with great, wracking coughs and sobs. Trixie just sat there, waiting it out as a good friend, cousin, neigh, sister would do.

Hours later, Trixie found herself curled up along with New Moon next to the fireplace, heavy curtains in place over all the windows to block out the morning light. It was fortunate it was the middle of the autumn season – by now, her presence wasn’t a requirement at the farms, and she could stay indoors harbouring an unknown pony with nopony else the wiser. Having toweled both herself and New Moon off, she had marched the other mare downstairs. Stoking a roaring fire to life had always given Trixie a feeling of safety, and she knew it was the same for the now ex-Royal Guard. It had been mere hours since the two had met once more, but Trixie knew her presence was now a security blanket for her rediscovered sister.

Then, New Moon spoke.

“Australe.”

“Hmm? What’s that?”

“The name I’ll go by when outside of this house.”

“…I see. Is there any reason for that name?”

“It’s…My father once told me that if him and mother had had another foal, that’s what they would’ve named her. It’s…his death mean it’s no longer possible, but, but I’ll take that name up in his stead. I don’t know what I’m going to do now, but at least, at least I’ll be able to give that name a life, no matter how pitiful it is.”

Trixie said nothing to that, letting the room lapse into silence but for the crackling of the flames. Several minutes later, she looked over to New Moon to talk again. The batpony was asleep.

Trixie let herself smile. A wave of exhaustion suddenly passed over her. If she hadn’t already been laying down on the floor it would’ve staggered her. It wasn’t a physical exhaustion borne of staying up for too long: it was an emotional exhaustion, from hearing of the death of somepony she considered her uncle, and hearing the words from the mouth of somepony Trixie now realised she had, did consider a sister. Trixie remembered how the death of her own mother, and later her father had affected her. She pitied New Moon.

The unicorn laid her head down, resting it in the crook of New Moon’s neck. Within minutes, both ponies, each born of Changeling and pony, were sound asleep.

Author's Note

Thus begins New Moon, this story's first arc. My intent is for each arc to be three chapters, and to write each arc fully before releasing them separately for tighter cohesion. Which means, yes, that the next two chapters are already finished, but I'll be spacing out their release depending on how quickly or slowly I can continue to write the arc after that. I'm fairly incessant with editing lines and sometimes whole scenes so I'll probably still even end up changing a thing or two in this chapter, like trying to make New Moon's flight from Canterlot less info-dumpy. I tinker, a lot.

With that said, a warning that I like to use author notes to talk about stuff in individual chapters, behind the scenes information or author perspectives on certain moments in the chapter. Sometimes I'll be fairly short, sometimes I'll go on for ages.

The big struggle with writing this was in the latter half of the chapter. As you'll see as the story continues, Phantasmare is littered with O.C.s As a result, I have to do a better job of developing their characters and the way they relate to each other and Trixie. One of the key advantages of writing fanfiction with canon characters is an author can be lazy and assume the audience already mostly understands pre-existing dynamics and relationships from the source material. With an O.C., an author loses that advantage. Thus, I have to write New Moon and flesh her out. To the extent of Trixie and New Moon's relationship, I attempt to write them as having a platonic love that lasted even after years apart, and allows the two even as grown-ups to get up close and personal without feeling too awkward about it, while staying away from giving any sexual vibes.

On that note, I do worry a little bit about New Moon, given that she could be seen as a 'bad O.C.' between her being a batpony and the whole Cutie Mark albinoism thing. I can't really say more than that my belief is bad O.C.'s come from more than just character traits that make them 'cool' or 'unique', and more from lack of or bad character development (which is what makes an 'only performer of the Sonic Rainboom' and 'super-powerful personal student of the Princess' interesting character we all know and love). New Moon will definitely be getting further character development.

New Moon's flight path may seem a little weird, given that she flies for three quarters of a day (late morning > early morning when Trixie is setting up her telescope) to get from Canterlot to Whinnychester, and I've said in the original story it took Trixie about two days on hoof from Ponyville to Whinnychester. If that bothers you, you can just assume New Moon took some breaks here and there or whatever, or that she walked at times to avoid being seen overhead by others in a straight line from Canterlot to Whinnychester.

Free internet cookie to whoever guesses the naming theme of New Moon's father, mother, and the new name she's taking.

New Moon: Dead Moon

Winter was coming. The sun was steadily being raised later in the morning and lowered earlier in the day to cool Equestria down in time for the planned seasonal snowfall. Soon, the Longest Night festival would be held on the winter solstice, and shortly after the passage of another year would be marked.

Trixie had occasionally wondered why Equestria even bothered with winter when a year-round moderate climate could instead be established. When she had first asked this during her short stay at the School for Gifted Unicorns, she had learned that the seasons had naturally propagated on an annual cycle once upon a time, before the Windigos destroyed the balance of Harmony. The biological functions of every living being still relied on there being a low ebb of the year. It hadn’t been until Trixie grew up that she learned to appreciate the short winter days where she could be lazy, and both fall asleep and rise to the pale moonlight of the night sky.

Whinnychester, a town that relied on wheat, perfectly emulated the passage of the seasons. During the summer time most of its ponies were up all day, moving and bustling with chores and work. As autumn swept through the land, harvest season started, before ponies finally began to settle in for the winter. A peaceful somnolence settled into the population during winter as only the most tireless of its residents continued to whittle away at projects through the winter. During the slow pace of life set by winter’s heart, Trixie had taken to going through the magical curriculum she had once been enrolled in but lost out on due to terrible coincidence.

However, wandering out into the local marketplace for groceries this year was a different manner than the last season of rest.

“Oh? Who is your new friend, Bella?”

Green Leaf was a reasonably well-traveled pony, but Trixie doubted even she had seen a batpony before. It had been to the credit of the townsponies that most of the adults had barely blinked at New Moon’s appearance. The fillies and colts, on the other hoof, had been rather rambunctious.

“This is Australe,” Trixie introduced her. “She’s from Baltimare. Mother and father met her parents back when he was peddling some of his finer works in the big city, and we occasionally visited them over the years.”

“Good to meet you then, Australe,” Green Leaf said as she held a hoof out. New Moon didn’t hesitate to shake it, intent on blending in with the town. “So what brings you out here to Whinnychester, then? It’s not as if we have much for tourist traps here.”

New Moon blinked, surprised at Green Leaf’s bluntness, but shrugged it off as she answered, “Getting away from the bustle of the big city, mostly. Too much light pollution at night, too. Trixie wrote me that there was plenty of work here if I wanted it. Maybe not so much at this time of year, but I have a deft hoof for mechanical work. I figured there would be more than a few machines that could use finetuning here.”

Green Leaf chuckled, and she said, “You would be correct at that. I know Winter Wheat needs work done on his combines and he’s bemoaned their complexity to me on several occasions. If you can fix them up, you’ll have a job list longer than your wingspan in no time.”

“There aren’t that many lights here, either,” Trixie said. “Mostly the main street leading through town and the plaza have lamps. I doubt I would be able to do my stargazing in Baltimare.”

“I’m surprised you even went to school in the City of Light, then,” Green Leaf remarked, scratching out some numbers on a notepad. From her sideway view, it appeared to Trixie to be a ledger.

Trixie took a second to understand what Green Leaf had said, before remembering what one of the famous appellative titles for Canterlot was. “The School for Gifted Unicorns was the premiere institution for magic,” Trixie said, then added, “But in the end, it just wasn’t for me.” The lie lingered on her tongue like the filthy taste of dirt.

“Er, if I may?” New Moon interjected, rifling through the several carts of produce Green Leaf had set up. “You wouldn’t happen to carry peppers, would you?”

Green Leaf shook her head. “Afraid not, dearie. I can bring them in on special order for my next shipment, but that’ll be extra.”

“You did like your food spicy, didn’t you Australe?” Trixie mused aloud upon seeing the forlorn expression on New Moon’s face. “I recall nearly burning my tongue on your father’s chili on more than one occasion.”

“We always had milk and bread available,” New Moon said.

“It took me some time to get used to that diet, you know. I think I get acid reflux just thinking about some of the dishes that were served."

“Oh, quit being a big filly."

“Says the pony who didn’t eat half her greens because they tasted too bitter.”

Green Leaf’s head darted back and forth between the two, following the trade of biting remarks. The Earth pony didn’t know if she should intervene, unsure if they were barbed comments or if it was two friends teasing one another. Suddenly, she saw a spot to intervene. “So, would you like to make a special order then, Australe?”

New Moon jumped slightly at the use of her assumed name, and turned around, her cheeks slightly colouring. “Er, um, let me think,” She said, hemming and hawing for a few seconds before making her mind. “Yes, erm, some Jalapeno peppers, and some Celeste peppers too. You have beans here already, good, let’s see…” She rattled off a few more items for the list along with the general mass of each item to order in, Green Leaf steadfastly writing the list down in a second notepad. “Also, I don’t know if there’s that stereotype out all the way here but no, I don’t like mango.”

“Huh?”

“Ah, so you don’t know. Supposedly all batponies love mangoes, I don’t. It's a stereotype that needs to die.”

“Ah.” Comprehension dawned on Green Leaf’s face. Tabulating the items she had written down, she quoted a price. New Moon didn’t blink. It was well within her budget, and while she needed to be seen out and about, she didn’t want to attract too much scrutiny, so attempting to haggle was out of the question for her. “Well then, I’ll be sending off my orders in a few days, so your order will be here next week. If you don’t pick it up, then you’ll have to pay off the cost before I allow you to make a special order again.”

Trixie did a look-over of New Moon’s body. She had been doing that a lot over the past few days. Wait, what did I just think? Trixie could feel her cheeks burning in self-induced embarrassment as her train of thought threatened to slip off the tracks, before she finally righted it back on course.

A few nights before, Trixie had finished her illusionary spell, using what fragments of information New Moon knew about the Changeling detection spell that had been devised in the last few years to revise it. Laying it over New Moon’s form, she had changed the batpony’s colours, slate grey fur to a more distinctive marble blue with a darker blue mane and tail. While her amber eyes had merely gained a few shades of brown, the biggest difference to New Moon was the crescent moon Cutie Mark on both her hind legs. The moon itself was black rather than a creamy white, the better to stand out against her fur.

That had been the trickiest part of all for Trixie. Cutie Marks were part of a pony’s identity, even invisible ones. It was possible to give unmarked foals gag Cutie Marks, but the magic wouldn’t last long. Trixie had always had an eye for the field of illusions, the spell matrixes being as intuitive to her as telekinesis was to most other ponies. However, even she wasn’t entirely sure if she could overlay a fake Cutie Mark on top of a real one, even if it was just a visual deception.

It had worked, but Trixie was constantly expecting it to fail. The paranoia she had developed from years of travelling by herself had made a resurgence. So far, however, the spell of her own creation seemed to be working. But it could still fail at any time. Trixie needed to find a way to make it more permanent, yet all the reading of books into the wee hours of the morning, all the baths spent in darkness, all the incense she had breathed in over the last few days had failed to give Trixie insight and inspiration. Only the remoteness of Whinnychester and the low chance of exposure of New Moon's identity gave Trixie breathing room.

“Trixie? Hellloo, Trixie?” A hoof waved in front of her eyes.

Trixie blinked, “Huh, wha-oh sorry, I was just thinking and lost focus, sorry,” she said to New Moon. Turning her attention around to a giggling sound, she gave Green Leaf a light-hearted frown. “Sorry, what did I miss?”

“Your friend making a special order for fruits and vegetables,” said Green Leaf. “Did you want anything yourself?”

Trixie pursed her lips. Unfortunately, pinecones were a delicacy in this area of the world, and much of her budget was already reserved for the numerous books and artifacts she was ordering in. “No thanks,” she said, browsing over the carts full of produce that were currently on display. “But I think I will take, let’s see, some tomatoes, some of the lettuce, hmm, a bag of sugar…”

Winter Wheat was one of the older stallions in the village. Between him and his wife Canola Oil they maintained one of the largest plots around, helped out by those who remained in Whinnychester of the baker’s dozen of children they had raised. Despite the couple’s prodigal loins, not one member of the family was particularly talented with the machines they used for their day-to-day work.

New Moon, or Australe as she had introduced herself to Winter Wheat, had had a father who tinkered with clockworks so much he had gone by the nickname of Cogs. She had fully inherited his own capabilities around machinery.

“The oil on the seal for this bearing is worn out,” she called out from underneath one of the combines that had just been put away for the winter. “The oil tastes a little metallic, you may be getting early corrosion of the metal. I don’t know how often you replace them, but I would recommend a new bearing before using next summer.”

Upon Trixie introducing the two to one another, Winter Wheat put New Moon on the spot by inviting her in to the large shed that held most of the equipment that had been stored away for the winter, getting her to assess the first piece of equipment on his to-do list. Trixie followed close behind with a pen and paper held in her telekinetic grip, furiously jotting down the various condition reports New Moon was shouting out.

“How is the wheel?” Winter Wheat asked.

New Moon paused, before she finally came back out from underneath the machine. Dirt and grease splotched her face and torso in a spectrum of browns. She said, “It looks in good condition, no cracks and no sign of rot. I would recommend you switch to rubber wheels, preferably air-filled over solid. For your fields they’ll be far superior to wood.”

“It’s a little bit difficult to get rubber wheels this far out,” Winter Wheat said, but his voice was of begrudging acceptance.

Trixie smiled as the two other ponies continued to talk to one another, and she continued to write down notes. Perhaps it would be even easier to integrate New Moon into Whinnychester than she had thought.

She briefly frowned as her mind betrayed her and went down a darker path. This couldn’t last, however. Trixie wasn’t entirely certain if the Equestrian military was even pursuing New Moon. A lowly private wasn’t that important, even if her father had in fact been a Changeling and a little higher up in the hierarchy of Canterlot’s Guards.

But there was too much chance for something to go wrong. Equestria was slow with paperwork, but the taxponies that came out every year were ruthless with their scrutiny. All that was required was one slip-up in New Moon’s paperwork and her lack of documents, and she was sure to be found out. From there, the dominos could fall. Or perhaps Trixie’s illusion spell might run out in the middle of the day. Or perhaps, or perhaps.

And so long as Trixie stayed rooted to Whinnychester, New Moon couldn’t move on either, unable to renew the illusion spell herself. Trixie was beginning to despair that there was any way this could end well.

No! Trixie scolded herself, shaking her head and writing down more notes, having thankfully trailed off during a lull in New Moon and Winter Wheat’s conversation, There is a solution to this. I just have to find it!

Her heart beat, pumping blood through her body, the incoming pressure pushing deoxygenated blood back towards her chest. Her mana channels also branched out from the heart, twisting and turning around arteries and veins alike, intermingling to deliver power to every cell of her body. Power leaked from her, escaping every follicle and gland of her body. Power was pumped into her, the artifact above her heart acting as a conduit between her and the world.

It wasn’t enough, she knew. It was never enough. She had humiliated and then exiled the unicorn that had once shown her up, and then trapped the site of her downfall under a giant dome, but she wasn’t content. She knew she was destined for something bigger, something greater. She was Great. She was Powerful.

This small town that had once scorned her and brought her low was merely her first conquest. Every pony who had scorned her from this two-bit hamlet had already been punished for their mockery, and the one who had humiliated her most of all had been exiled, never allowed to set hoof in this village again. The creation of a dome had made certain of that.

Yet with Power had come Clarity, her view of the world hyper-focused through a soft red. Past the red clouds and red plains there was a castle sitting upon a lone mountain peak that stretched towards the heavens, almost as Great and Powerful as she was. Two sisters ruled there, each bearing untold secrets of ages long past. She would march on the heavens and take the secrets they held, and unleash a new age. The old institutions would be purified in fire as three thousand years of history would fall in a single night, and all would come to know her as their Queen.

The commonwealth of equines was only one part of the land, however. As the ponies fell into line under her rule, she would take over the griffons, and the minotaur, the buffalo, the zebra, the deer, and more. Then her eyes would look across the great sea. Oh yes, the world would be hers, and with every new conquest that crossed her gaze, her heart thumped with excitement, and the amulet pulsed red over her heart.

Trixie opened her eyes.

It took her a few seconds to reacquaint herself with the ceiling of her room. Once she recognised her familiar surroundings, Trixie focused on her twitchy upper body. Her head was shaking uncontrollably and the muscles of her neck were seized up. That was when Trixie realised she was unable to move.

Her hooves were like iron, unwilling to be lifted from their prone position. The amu—no, one hoof was laid over top her chest. It was like a weight had been dropped onto her barrel. Trixie panicked as she began to suffocate under the iron hoof. Her heart beat faster and faster, each individual pulse melding together in a hammering thump reminding her of the childhood monster under the bed. Trixie opened her mouth to scream. All that came out was a silent whimper. She was going to die here.

The moment suddenly passed, and Trixie’s body rolled over, and she fell off her bed.

“Oof!” Trixie cried out as she hit the floor, the brief jolt of pain from impact finally freeing her locked-up muscles. It took a few seconds to realise what had just occurred. Sleep paralysis. She had been suffering from sleep paralysis, and it had gotten the best of her.

Trixie wondered why she panicked. Then memories from the nightmare came rushing to the forefront. “Oh. Oh,” she said aloud to herself, finding little comfort in her own voice. “That…that was terrifying.” Trixie shivered at the terrifying memories, as she desperately tried to will them away, blinking through a stinging eye. With a start, she realised there was more to her shivers than that. Lifting one of her front hooves up, she brushed the fur of her forehead. Her hoof came away slick with sweat.

The unicorn mare shuddered. There was no way she was going to go back to sleep again in this condition. One nightmare had been enough for the night.

Her horn flared. In the darkness of her room with only a sliver of moonlight washing through, the luminescent glow of her magic was the dominant source of light. Ever since the incident, Trixie would always have a split-second of terror that her magic would come out the ruby-red of the Alicorn Amulet. She let out a relieved breath as instead a warm violet light washed over her surroundings. A similar violet glow cloaked her spare dry blanket as she picked it up, and started to walk down stairs, down to the living area where her fireplace was.

Trixie’s ears perked up with interest as she saw New Moon sitting next to the fireplace, having apparently already stoked a fire.

New Moon turned her head around as well. “Couldn’t sleep as well?” She asked in a mumble. Trixie noted that the lids of her eyes were half-closed, a clear sign of sleep issues in the batpony.

“I got to sleep, but had a bad nightmare,” Trixie admitted. “Do you want to talk about it?”

New Moon didn’t respond. Trixie took the initiative to sit down beside her, wrapping the large blanket she had brought down with her around the two of them.

The room was silent for a few minutes but for the crackling of the flame. Trixie fidgeted, not used to being so quiet in the company of another, and was the first to break the mutual peace. “How much did you hear about the Alicorn Amulet and I?” She asked New Moon.

That at least seemed a subject New Moon was willing to broach. “We were not sure how much of it was rumour and how much was fact, the Princesses were mum about it. What we did hear was that you came into possession of a dark artifact that possessed you and made you take over Ponyville for two days.”

Trixie swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. If she had been possessed, Trixie would have probably been worse off than she was from the massive violation of self she would have undergone. However, at least it would have given her leeway in the court of public opinion. She found herself afraid of confessing the truth.

Then the nightmare came back, and Trixie steeled herself. She had no other friends or family she could pour her heart out to, and the mare felt that that was exactly what was required right now.

“That’s, that’s not actually t-true, er, the possession part that is, at least partly that is,” Trixie said, stumbling over her words. “I, I chose to put it on. The Amulet gave me power and it gave me skill, but all, all it did was remove my inhibitions.” She gulped, desperately wishing for a glass of water to wet her tongue and throat, but continued, “At least, I think so. It might’ve pushed me over, but a great part of it was me.”

Her words caught New Moon’s attention, who looked over, peering into Trixie’s eyes as if looking for a greater inner truth. “What was it like, then? Wearing the amulet, that is?” New Moon clarified.

Trixie took a few moments to collect her thoughts. She said, “Even before I put it on, I think it had already influenced me. I went to the shop with money in hoof, but when I spotted it, I think I was going to steal it.” She swallowed, and continued, “The shopkeeper interrupted and prevented me from running off with it, so I purchased it with bits. I should have known then that something was up, but I didn’t listen. Then I put it on. It was like I was looking at the world through a lens, like when you try to peer into water, and the Amulet gave me clear vision for the first time.”

Trixie didn’t mention that it was through red-tinged eyes.

New Moon sat in silent. It wasn’t the silence where she was busy contemplating what Trixie had told her. It was the silence where she was urging her to continue, knowing there was much more to the story still.

“It gave me a strength I never possessed before. In all the show acts I had performed before, I called myself ‘The Great and Powerful Trixie’, but I had just been fooling myself. The Amulet made me feel great, truly great for the first time. But I ended up like a filly in a candy store. Spells that I only knew in theory, unable to ever pull them off in practice, suddenly I was able to fling them around with ease. But with every spell I cast, I was losing the morals that they instilled in us from the first day of school. If I hadn’t been stopped when I was, I don’t know how far I would have gone. I don’t even know if the Princesses would have been able to subdue me.”

That got New Moon’s attention, “That powerful?,” she asked, letting out a quick whistle. “I don’t know about Princess Luna, but Princess Celestia was defeated at the Royal Wedding by Queen Chrysalis a few years ago, and you and I know how little a single unicorn’s love should be able to go.”

Trixie wasn’t so certain of that. Shining Armor may have been a single unicorn, but he had been promoted to Captain of the Royal Guard at a young age. He may have been dating Princess Cadance at the time, but she doubted he had gotten the job solely on nepotism. He would have had to have some degree of talent and trained skill to get in.

She shoved those thoughts aside, continuing on, “Yes, that powerful. It was an insidious artifact, but all it did was give me the power I never even dreamed of obtaining. In turn, it left me with nightmares.” Trixie shivered again as the nightmare she had just had crept up on her. “Since I found out my father died, I’ve never actually left this place, you know? I’ve tried, I’ve sincerely tried, but I don’t even trust myself if I were to leave not to wreck the world again somehow. I don’t know how much of it is from whatever taint the Amulet left behind, but I know some of it is.”

“It haunts me still.”

New Moon was quiet again, but this time she was contemplative. Trixie turned her head back towards the fire. There was one piece of imagery that stuck out to her from her nightmare, of being purified in fire. Not actually being on fire no thank you, Trixie thought to herself, but merely looking into the dancing yellows and oranges of the fire uplifted her spirits. Fire was something of spontaneity, of change. It could be a new beginning, just like the embodiment of fire itself, a phoenix.

“I should’ve come to visit you earlier, you know.”

Trixie craned her head around to look back at New Moon.

“When my father first heard about a Changeling being found in Whinnychester, he got a copy of the report. When he found out it was your own father that had supposedly gone missing, he realised what occurred right away and told me. We should’ve come to provide support. I’m so sorry, Trixie. Did they bury him at least?”

Trixie shook her head. She could feel tears staining her cheeks, but managed to say, “No. It was his wish he be buried next to my mother. The guards burned his body instead and disposed of the ashes in the river.”

“I don’t know what happened to my father’s body,” New Moon said. “My mother has some connections. She might have been able to get his body treated according to batpony tradition.” She sighed, “I don’t even know if I’ll be able to return to Canterlot, ever.”

“Tell me about him,” Trixie said. She knew New Moon needed a shoulder to cry on, and being able to talk about some of the memories of her father would be as good a therapy as any in this situation.

New Moon wrinkled her nose, before she started talking. “He came from the Badlands hive, just like your own father. Well, you know that much. He went around as a regular pegasus in those days, starting off in Dodge Junction and slowly drifting north as he picked up on pony customs and managed to fit in better over time. Eventually, he made his way to Canterlot, where he worked in a shop repairing clocks. That’s where he met mother.”

“She was from one of the Prench islands, wasn’t she?,” Trixie asked.

New Moon nodded. “That’s right, Marequelon. It was a small community with not much for jobs, so she followed its motto ‘A Mare Labor’ and migrated to Equestria for work. Dad met her in his pegasus form and the two dated for a bit, then when he revealed his true form she didn’t reject him. It actually worked for the better, anyways. There was, still is anxiety in the batpony community about outsiders.” She whinnied in an obvious mocking snort. “They’re worried about us being subsumed into the general pegasus population, and they’ll shun any batpony who dates outside the clan.”

“So he took a new form for the sole benefit of your mother, then?,” Trixie deduced.

“Not just for her, no. He managed to ingratiate himself with the batponies as well by virtue of simply being the same tribe. Half of them don’t even care a whit about cultural similarities so long as you have furred wings.” New Moon snorted for the second time in as many minutes. “I suppose I should be grateful, though. Some of them have had families there dating back several centuries, so if they were like some of the regular nobles my parents and I would have been looked upon for being outsiders, new blood. Instead, they got mom and dad jobs. They got dad through background checks somehow, how I don’t know but they did. Obviously he couldn’t use his past jobs as references considering his new form.”

“Oh?” Trixie asked, curious. “What was his ‘backstory’ then, so to speak?” Trixie’s own father, Wooden Chisel, had regaled her with stories of the hive, but then he had drilled her on his ‘past’, the story of his childhood as a pony to use if anyone ever asked.

“He claimed to have been a childhood friend of mom’s who followed after her by about a year. It took a couple of trips to the islands and a lot of practice with the Prench language to pull it off, but he did. They figured it was an easier way to keep a cover story straight when there’s few people who have been to the islands, and if someone were to every question his language skills he could excuse it as having little opportunity to use Prench on a daily basis in Equestria. And so he joined the Royal Guard, and with his experience in the shop he took to tinkering with clockworks as his main hobby.”

“Then they had you,” Trixie said.

New Moon sniffed, wiping a tear from her face. The batpony mare had thus far been fairly engaging, and Trixie hoped she could keep it that way and help New Moon work through her father’s death.

“Yeah, and then they had me. Mom said something about how dad had to take time off when I was born, not just because of course he had to, I was just born, but because her joy that first day filled him up with enough energy to last him weeks. She liked to reminisce a lot as I grew up, telling me stories about her own fillyhood, remembering my own antics as I grew up, even how her and dad came up with potential names for a foal before I was born. My parents named me New Moon because of course it’s something they would do, dad wanted to fit in and half of all bat ponies have night-themed names anyways,” she said, before hanging her head down. “Heh. It’s not common but some ponies will call a new moon a dead moon. Dead Moon sounds like a good name for me once I get caught. Sometimes I wish my parents named me Full Moon instead.”

Trixie jolted up at her friend’s last few lines. As she had opened her heart up to New Moon, the unicorn had thought they might be able to find relief from their woes in one another. They weren’t. If anything, they seemed to be feeding off each other’s miseries. This was bad, very bad. She needed to find something to break this mad chain and quickly.

Wait a minute, Trixie thought to herself, A dead moon? Something about that line tickled something in her memory with a fancy. She scrunched her snout in fierce concentration. The fire was an annoyance, the warm air drying out her cornea. It was as if the whole world had disappeared, leaving naught but for Trixie, the fire, and the moon hanging over her thoughts in all its forms, crescent, gibbous, new and full.

Her eyes widened. “That’s it!”

“That’s, huh?”

“That’s it!” Trixie declared a second time, suddenly jumping to her hooves, inadvertently burying New Moon deeper in the blanket. It was as if she had just received applause from the end of a performance, all the excitement and euphoria washing over her and magically super-charging her very being. Trixie felt alive again. “I’ve got it!”

“You’ve got what?”

“A way to let you move around more freely, to not have to renew your spell nightly, to make your true appearance impervious to detection! A way for me to get past the rut the Amulet has left me in! I’ve finally figured it out!”

Author's Note

Something I do in my writing that I don't see often in other people's writing, fiction or fanfiction, is trying to match real-world dialogue. Nobody is well-spoken all the time, and most people aren't most of the time. We'll stumble in our speech, go 'er' and 'um', repeat words and thoughts, and sometimes have odd mix-up of lines where we say something at the end of a sentence where we should at the beginning. They'll also contradict themselves. There's a lot of it in this chapter. Does this come off as a bit annoying to read to you? Feedback is appreciated.

New Moon makes a title drop in this chapter. As she explains, a Dead Moon is in fact an uncommon term sometimes used to describe a New Moon, when there's very little to no solar reflection on the moon. There's a little bit of an iffy problem with this as far as MLP is concerned, which I'll mention in next chapter's author notes.

On a side note, this arc is a pain. I originally had this chapter and the next written, then scrapped most of it because I didn't like. It's not often that I'll wipe a scene three times, but that's what I did with the Green Leaf conversation.

New Moon: Noire

Outside of Whinnychester proper there laid hundreds of hectares managed by farmers and the occasional rancher. The further away from the town a pony got, the less attention a farmpony paid attention to a field, with fences keeping out the larger critters and a pinch of magic to prevent the smaller ones. Rodents were especially great nuisances, all too capable of chewing through wheat stalks and causing large amounts of food loss.

Trixie didn’t worry too much about this field, however. It had laid fallow during the growing season, after being exhausted the year prior. She had personally examined the area prior to make absolutely certain there was no magical contamination from a previous spell, and had asked permission from Red Fife for use of his field for a magical ritual, easily getting it.

“It’s a bit chilly out,” New Moon said from beside Trixie, holding up a flashlight with a wing. It was the only light the two had to go by. The distant stars were but little pinpricks of light in the night sky.

“You lived on top of a mountain, Moonie,” said Trixie. “No matter how much weather manipulation goes on in Canterlot, it’s still high enough that you should be used to cool temperatures.”

“I know, I know, I was just making conversation,” New Moon whined. “Perhaps I should ask about those three watches you have on your leg. And I told you to call me Australe even in private, I don’t want you to accidentally trip up in public because you use my old name when we’re by ourselves.”

“Of course, of course Australe,” Trixie said. A brief gust swept by, causing her to wrinkle her nose as some of her mane hairs brushed alongside her snout. Using a hoof to brush it back behind her neck, she continued her trot, made a little difficult by only having three legs on the ground instead of four. In the process New Moon could see the three watches Trixie had strapped around her one front limb. “Those watches will be important later, but enough of that. Tell me, how goes work?”

The batpony mare groaned. “Awful. There was enough dust in that wagon that I swear I have hay fever with how many times I sneezed.”

“Still better than standing in front of a door for six hours doing nothing as a guard?”

“Oh yes! That monotony was the worst! Even patrolling was leagues better because at last I could move!” New Moon made to say something else, only to leave her mouth hung open. After several seconds, she snapped it shut in embarrassment, then opened it back up to speak again, “Say, isn’t this further out than you’ve ever been since I came here? I didn’t even think your whatever it is let you move this far.”

“It didn’t,” Trixie confessed. “Somehow though, I think I’ve been slowly getting better.” Trixie let that statement settle in the air, before she added, “Ever since you’ve come to town, actually.”

“Wh—I—that is—” New Moon sputtered, incapable of completing a full sentence.

Trixie laughed. With a startle, she realised they had been rare for her in the last year. New Moon’s return into her life, literally barreling her over in the process, truly had sparked a new life in Trixie, even as she had struggled to fully realise her new love for magic. If Trixie could pull tonight off, it would only be going to the debt she owed New Moon. “I’m just teasing, mind you! All the same, it gives me hope I can be out of here soon. My desire to wander has been giving me itchy hooves these last few months, especially every time you talk about the tours you’ve gone on outside of Canterlot.”

“You really don’t want to be in Whinnychester, do you?” New Moon asked in a tone that was more matter-of-fact than a question.

“It’s not that,” Trixie said. “It’s, um. I love this place. It’s where I was born, it’s where I grew up most of my life. But it’s also the place I left behind when I became a travelling performer, eager to see the world. And it’s the place where my parents died.”

“Ah.” A pause. “Sorry.”

Trixie brushed it off with a wave of her hoof, “It’s alright. I’ve had time to get over both their deaths. Time enough, in any case, to wonder if there wasn’t something else that was keeping me in Whinnychester. Ah, we’re here!”

New Moon stopped at Trixie’s announcement. She switched the flashlight from her wing to her front hooves before she took the air. From the sky, New Moon surveyed the ground below, even as Trixie walked around, checking up that her hoofwork was intact. A large white circle had been etched into the grass, perhaps thirty hoof-lengths in diametre. Further in, there was a half-circle arc, its length perhaps one third of the outer circle. In lieu of a straight line to complete the semicircle, there was a five-sided star, with the one end pointing touching at the middle point of the arc.

New Moon swooped in to meet Trixie. “Trixie wishes she could fly like you could,” Trixie said without looking up from the ground. “Heh, perhaps I could learn to self-levitate. Wouldn’t that be something!”

“So that’s why you were borrowing some of my tools,” New Moon remarked. The chalk hadn’t seemed too weird, but some of the other instruments had been fairly specialised tools built for precision measurement and drawing. “Why the circle, and the half-circle, and the star then?”

“I don’t really know, honestly,” Trixie admitted. “I mean, I could tell you that it works and the elementary magical logic behind each, but the full details would require years of in-depth studies to truly understand. But! The outer circle represents a beginning without end, an end without beginning, eternal renewal. The inner arc and the star represent the energies of the Great Mother, channeled into a focus point.”

New Moon took a second look at the layout of the ritual area, before she asked, “Why the half-circle and five-pointed star, though? I’m assuming your focus point as at the middle of the star, but don’t they ruin the symmetry?”

Trixie paused her walk around the outside circle, “If I were just drawing on ambient magical energy, perhaps. But I’m not. Remember, I’m drawing on the power of the moon.”

“But you can’t even see the moon right now!” New Moon argued, pointing at the night sky.

“Of course not,” Trixie said, raising her snout to the sky, a proud look on her face. “That’s why I had to use math and observations to get this right. Look at the star, Australe. Do you see where the middle of the half-arc is, with the one point of the star intersecting? Do you remember where the moon was last night?”

New Moon gazed over.

Suddenly, the scene of when Trixie had first suggested this ritual came rushing to the front of her head, clamoring to be remembered.

“Explain.”

“It’s what you mentioned before. New Moon, Dead Moon, Full Moon, phases of the moon.”

“…I don’t get it.”

“Sorry, I guess it’s more obscure than I thought. A lot of powerful magic used to be conducted at night in accordance with the New Moon, the Half Moon, and the Full Moon. It’s not so common now, but it was popular a long time ago, especially in the Tribal Era when ponies still thought magic originated from the moon.”

“So you’re saying, turn the spell into a ritual on one of those nights?”

“More than that. The calendar we use is a pony invention, but even pony inventions have power. About once a year, there’ll be a month with two new moons. The new moon is all about rituals of renewal and rebirth, or in your case, being able to lead a new life. The second new moon of a month will be even more magically powerful.”

“I know at least that much, about the second new moon that is. They call it a Black Moon.”

“Yes!” Trixie at this point was practically hopping up and down, gravity the only force able to keep her from flying off in her enthusiasm. “There’s power in the Black Moon. There’s even more power in symbolism in it being a new moon, just like your name.”

“So, doing the spell as a ritual would do what, exactly?”

“Trixie needs to work out the calculations, but she believes that-“

“You’re talking in the third-pony again.”

“Trix—oh, I am, aren’t I, sorry? Trixie apologises. Oh, there I go again. Sorry, force of habit when, when I get excited, even now.”

“Accepted. What were you going to say?”

“Where was I? Oh yes, my calculations. I believe it possible the power of the ritual under the black moon will make the changes in your physical appearance permanent.”

“Permanent meaning?”

“Absolutely permanent. No detection spell on the planet will be able to pierce it. I—I’m sorry to say this, but I hope you weren’t too attached to your old looks.”

“…it’s fine.”

“Is it really?”

“Not really, no, but that’s the now. Give me a day and I know I’ll have gotten over it. For now, tell me more.”

“Well, you see, the ritual needs to take place on a black moon. Luckily, it happens only a few months from now, but it’ll be cold out…”

New Moon had gotten over it. But she still needed to make sure it would actually work.

“So you’re saying—“ New Moon cut herself off, excited as she worked out the math in her head. Trixie had been mum on the more intricate details of the ritual, but New Moon had seen that devious personality of hers at work more than a few times since they had reunited. “Are you certain you’ve perfectly calculated where the moon is right now?”

“Perfectly,” Trixie said with a nod. “We’re rather fortunate, too. Eramtrotsthenes’ Second Principle says we have a period of about fourteen seconds to do this in. If we do it too early, the magic won’t work a second time tonight, so our first, our only attempt needs to be within those fourteen seconds. I want to do it about seven seconds in, so even if I’m off by a few seconds we should still be safe.”

“If we screw this up, we won’t be able to do this again for nearly another year,” New Moon observed.

“Then let’s hope we don’t,” the unicorn mare said before she took a running start, her leap clearing her over the outer circle. “I don’t want to disturb the chalk at all, I took quite some time making this as perfect as possible,” Trixie explained before New Moon could even ask. “That this area was fenced in means no bigger animals would have messed it up, but there could have been smaller pests.”

“It looks fine to me,” New Moon said as she continued to flap her wings, directing the brunt of the flashlight’s illumination just ahead of Trixie for the other pony to continue her examination on the inner figures.

“As perfect as possible,” Trixie repeated herself.

The meadow fell into silence as New Moon had nothing to say to that. Instead, the batpony lapsed off into thought as she hovered above the ground, thinking of the possibilities that would open up were this ritual to succeed. No longer would she be confined to Whinnychester, relying on the big heart and open hooves of her fillyhood friend. She would be able to go out into the wide, open world again and do whatever she wished. The panic New Moon had allowed herself to fall into upon her father’s death would no longer trap her and bind her to this little slice of the earth. Perhaps she may even be able to meet her mother again, albeit under a permanent disguise.

But then she thought of Trixie. Trixie, who had been psychologically crippled to the point that Whinnychester’s borders seemed an insurmountable barrier for her to cross. New Moon still woke up in the night crying at the thought of her father’s sudden death, but even she hadn’t been brought as low as the other mare, who had dealt with three tragedies in the space of little over a year. What was to become of Trixie if New Moon left?

“Done,” Trixie said aloud, interrupting New Moon’s train of thought. “Can you sit in the centre here, Australe?”

New Moon wrinkled her nose. Even as she had asked Trixie to use that new name, New Moon still hadn’t even begun to internalise it. With a sigh, she lowered herself, bleeding what little altitude she had. With grace born of a life of flying, she dropped into the centre of the five-sided star, not even taking a stumble as she landed.

“Turn around to face the black moon, please.”

The batpony followed the instructions, turning around slightly. “Does it matter if I stand up or sit down?,” she asked.

Trixie frowned, before looking at the three watches on her limb. “You will want to be standing up on all fours. Symmetry over as many planes as possible is desirable. We have about twenty minutes left before the moon is perfectly lined up with the star. I didn’t need to make any changes, thankfully.”

“Trixie,” New Moon spoke. “What do you plan to do if this works?”

“Pardon?”

“If this works, I’ll be leaving Whinnychester, but what about you? For all your talk of learning magic again and being able to teleport, I’ve barely seen you come out of your shell around anypony but Einkorn and myself, and him just for casual sex.”

Trixie blushed at that last comment. “This isn’t the time to talk about that.”

New Moon made to argue, but stopped. “Perhaps you’re right. But we’re going to talk about this later.”

Trixie grit her teeth, but was happy to let the conversation drop.

Time passed, and New Moon occasionally shivered when a cool breeze swept through the midnight air, robbing her of precious body heat. Trixie had insisted on no clothing, and the sanctity of the circle couldn’t be disturbed by even a simple heating spell. Only the prospect of what was coming up energised her.

At last, Trixie looked at the three watches on her limb. “Five minutes left,” she said, before looking over at New Moon. “Say.”

“What?”

“What has it been like, having, you know, a visible Cutie Mark?”

New Moon blinked. That was what Trixie wanted to ask, with the zero hour closing in? “I don’t know, what has it been like having a visible Cutie Mark since you were ten?” The batpony snarked.

“You know what I mean,” Trixie said with a deadpan look.

New Moon said, “Well, honestly? It’s, well, it’s been a wonder. Not many ponies even knew Cutie Mark Albinism was a thing, so I would always get stares whenever I went out into public. Here’s an adult who doesn’t have her Cutie Mark, what’s wrong with her? It was even worse going out on tour in some of the smaller towns, some ponies there actually thought batponies didn’t get Cutie Marks.”

Trixie snorted at that and said, “Ignorant fools.”

“Yes, ignorance,” New Moon said. “But even if I knew they were ignorant, their stares still hurt. I always felt as if I was being judged, that other ponies pitied me for supposedly being ‘incomplete’, even if I knew otherwise. The days I’ve spent in Whinnychester…the townspeople don’t look at me with those eyes. If it weren’t for what drove me here, I would say it’s been some of the happiest days of my life.”

“When did you figure it out, actually?” Trixie asked, feeling the topic suddenly get uncomfortable. “That you had your Cutie Mark, that is, but it was invisible.”

“When? Let me think,” New Moon said, rearing her head back and looking directly up at the sky, where the black moon was due to pass over within the next few minutes. “Only a few days before you first arrived, actually. When the Cutie Mark specialist diagnosed me, it was one of the best and one of the worst days I’ve ever had. Then you came to live with us, and the year you spent at the School and staying with us brought me out of the funk. You are my best friend, Trixie, and I don’t want to leave you behind in Whinnychester.”

Trixie didn’t know what to say. Instead, she looked at her wristwatches again. “One minute,” She announced. “Please stay in that position. Keep your head raised up. Lower it just a little bit, raise it up again, yes, there, your head’s pointing right at where the moon should be. Try to keep your eyes straight as well, yes, yes, just like that.”

She sighed as her fillyhood friend was rigid as a statue. The moment of truth was fast approaching. Now she would be able to see if her magical theory was correct. “Fifteen seconds,” Trixie said.

All three of her watches ticked down. Ten, nine, eight, seven…Trixie turned off her flashlight and threw it behind her, away from the outer circle. Lowering her head down to the grass, her horn lined up perfectly with the five-pointed star.

Trixie cast her spell.

Instantly, power filled her, power that frightened her, a power that she hadn’t felt since the moment she had first donned the Alicorn Amulet. She had even less control this time, as the radiance of the black moon took her over, made her nothing more than a vessel of magic. Only the sheer power of will that Trixie had developed over the years, the same will that had seen her get back up on her hooves again and again, allowed her to direct the magic into her spell.

The world was black. The world was white. The world was cold. The world was hot. An ethereal presence infested her, and every second was a war to stay in her body one second longer.

She saw New Moon with something more than her own eyes. The batpony was being bathed in magic, by the invisible light of the black moon. The unicorn mare who was an outlet of the celestial body’s magic widened her eyes in surprise, as New Moon’s very identity was changed. More than she had ever expected, the other mare’s being was reshaped, her Cutie Mark erased and etched over, her form growing, becoming something new.

Then the black moon’s revolution around the planet took it out of the direct path of the circle and star. The world disappeared under her hooves.

“Trixie? Trixie? C’mon Trixie! Your body’s alright, please tell me your mind wasn’t fried!”

“Guh?”

“Oh, thank goodness, you’re awake!”

New Moon had stayed in position during that entire ordeal. It had felt like a lifetime, even if it was only for a few seconds. She had wanted to move, but the sheer power she felt had scared her stiff. Every magical sense she had inherited from her father, the feeling of the earth under her hooves, the radiation of magic on the waves of air, the ethereal flow of manipulated energy, the otherworldly sense of the Changelings to magical stimuli, all had screamed at her to stand still.

“Gurgh…did it work?”

New Moon surveyed herself. Her new skin no longer felt alien. “I think so,” she said. “What happened, Trixie?”

The unicorn found footing with her front hooves, staggering her way up into a sitting position, using her haunches for support. “The power of the black moon was stronger than I thought,” Trixie said in between heavy pants. “It nearly consumed me. I think I know why now few ponies attempt to cast rituals under it. If I had lost control, it could have put me in bed for several months.”

New Moon’s eye twitched. She wanted to scold Trixie for not realising how dangerous it would be. She really wanted to. Yet, the batpony knew Trixie had done this for her, and felt she couldn’t. Instead…

“You were floating, you know,” she said. “Maybe it took lots of power to achieve it, but I saw you. You were hovering above the ground that whole entire time you cast the spell.”

Trixie blinked. “I, really? Then maybe it’s possible to learn how to-no, forget that.” She gently shook her head, still feeling disoriented. “Your Cutie Mark, it’s permanently changed.”

“Yeeees,” New Moon said, not sure what Trixie was getting at. As she looked over at her flank again, the black crescent moon practically shone, an oddity for its colour. Even more than feeling familiar in her new skin, the Cutie Mark just felt right.

“No, you don’t understand,” Trixie said. “It’s not an illusion. I mean that your very Cutie Mark itself has been changed.”

New Moon froze, even as her thoughts rushed at thousand hoof-lengths a second.

“Ah, are you alright, Moo-er, Australe?” Trixie asked, moderating her voice tone to keep the panic out.

“Noire.”

“Huh?”

“Noire, that’s my name,” said the batpony. “My mother hailed from one of the Prench islands, and my father pretended to be, and they both taught me a little of the Prench tongue. I was reborn under a black moon le Lune Noire. It’s only fitting, isn’t it, that I rename myself after both of them?” Noire asked, and then blinked. In the months of going under an alias in Whinnychester, she had never even come close to internalising herself as ‘Australe’, and yet within a few minutes, Noire had been able to do that.

The black moon’s power truly was a terrifying thing.

“I see. Noire. Noire, Noire, Noire,” Trixie tried the name out, letting it roll off her tongue. “It fits you.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Noire asked. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from her body. Wait a moment, Noire thought to herself, surveying her frame once more, then looking back to Trixie. “You seem, smaller, somehow. Did that magic do something to you?”

Trixie wrinkled her snout. “Do something to me? I just told you, it changed your Cutie Mark. But no, it did more than that. You’re taller than you were before, Noire.”

“Say what?!”

The seriousness of the moment had passed. Bemused, Trixie motioned her head away from the field, the circles and star she had etched out no more now that their purpose had been achieved. “C’mon, let’s go home. I’ll show you in a mirror.”

Noire sighed. Between the sudden exhaustion in her wings and Trixie's sure magic exhaustion, they were going to have to make that trip by hoof. At least they could finally get out of this cold.

“Not a couple of inches, it’s less than that,” Noire said, twirling around and craning her head back to look at her rear end in the mirror. “But I think there’s a difference, what do you think, Trix?”

Trixie frowned, wracking her brains and attempting to remember what Noire had looked like before, it having been several months since Trixie had cast the illusion over her. “I don’t honestly know for certain, but I think that’s your actual height,” she said. “I believe I made your false form very slightly taller than when you were New Moon, but from your own perspective you were the same height. I think it has to do with your Cutie Mark. I’ve heard a few cases of foals having an accelerated growth for a few weeks following getting their Cutie Mark, so maybe actually changing your identity ever so slightly changed your body?”

“Could be,” Noire replied. Trixie had fired off every detection spell she could think of, including the Changeling detection spell, and even a few heavy duty magic dispelling cantrips. They had all fizzled over her form. As far as anypony could tell, this was the colour scheme Noire had been born with and the Cutie Mark she had always had since she first got one.

“Remarkable is what it is,” Trixie said. “If it weren’t for, well, the clandestine nature of this all, I’d have written into one of the magical journals. That, and the lack of documentation of your appearance before the ritual versus afterwards.”

Noire gave her new face one last look, amber eyes melting into amber, before she broke away. “Trixie, I don’t think I’m going to stay here too much longer, maybe a few weeks until the worst of the winter temperatures passes. What are you going to do?”

Trixie sighed, before suddenly smiling, and said, “I’m glad you asked, Noire. I’m coming with you!”

The batpony recoiled in visible surprise. “Seriously? I thought you couldn’t, you know, leave.”

Trixie made to speak, before she halted herself. The unicorn took in a deep breath, then exhaled. “You weren’t the only one reborn in that wave of magic,” Trixie said.

Noire took a few moments to process that statement, reconciling the indirectness of Trixie’s words with what the two had just talked about. It didn’t take her long to clue in. “So you think whatever problems kept you here, you’re past it now?”

“Not quite,” said Trixie. “I’ll always miss my mother and father, but now, now I feel free, free to go wherever I want and do whatever I do.” Her voice softened as she seemed to reminiscence, “I’ve learned to love Whinnychester all over again in my two years here, but I’m done mourning, no, more than that, I’m done pitying myself. I gave up my performing career when I found my hooves inexorably stuck to the earth here. Now I’ll give up the loose network of friends I’ve rediscovered here. But it’s been so long since I’ve performed.” Trixie let out a whimsical sigh. “I can’t see myself doing that anymore, at least not full-time. This time, I think I’ll explore the land. I’ve saved up enough money over the last few years, and we can go quite some time on just grass and emotions. I've stored up more than enough energy from the past two years I've been living in Whinnychester with no real need to use it when my regular unicorn magic will suffice. If we get into a troublesome situation, I still have that on hoof.”

“Explore, huh?” Noire mused aloud. “Do you even have an idea of where you want to go? Equestria’s changed in the two years you’ve been here. There’s a new castle, the frontier towns of the south are finally hitting their stride, heck, I heard a rumour right before I flew the coop that Equestria has re-established contact with the land of the Yaks. Heck, perhaps we could even go across the western ocean, to a new continent altogether.” Noire hung her head low at that. “I really would rather stay in Equestria, though. I can’t imagine leaving her altogether.”

Trixie marveled at the many choices Noire had given her. It was true, this was a time of change, when multiple villains appeared to have sprung out of the background to reappear once more, the expansion of Equestria, and the coronation of not one but two Princesses. Speaking of a new Princess, Trixie thought to herself, That gives me an idea.

“The Crystal Empire,” Trixie pronounced.

“Hmm? The Empire?” Noire looked up. “You want to go there? I haven’t been there yet.”

“The glamour and the ideal of a city lost for a thousand years attracts me,” Trixie admitted. “It’s more just that, though. It’s what I’ve heard about the Crystal Heart, as an artifact capable of lifting the spirits of all who reside within the land and protecting them from Eternal Winter and the Windigoes.”

Noire deduced her friend’s unspoken motive quickly. “I’m pretty certain at least one of the Changeling hives would have already infiltrated the Empire if the Crystal Heart was even remotely capable of supply them.”

“True,” Trixie said. “But is it that they’ve tried and failed, or that they get something from them but it’s not worth trying to take over the place?”

Noire swallowed. “We could always go south and ask her, you know. At least, her hive is the only one I know the location of.”

Trixie frowned. “I’d rather not, at least, not yet,” she said. “Father told me I was at little risk going to the Badlands, but, no, not yet. Even with the magic I’ve studied in the last few years, I want to stay away. She’s a Queen, I feel as if I need to at least come close to matching her first. I just managed to create a permanent illusion spell, something that in all the books and journals and documents I've read takes a staggering amount of power, and I did it all by myself. Even if I had to harness an external power source, I created the spell and the circle for it to work in, and directed the energy of the moon into the spell. The Crystal Empire was displaced by a thousand years. I don't doubt most of their magic is inefficient and outdated, and I bet most of the academia have already scoured the libraries and royal archive there. But until I find something, anything to better myself, I would rather not talk to her.”

“Yeah, but like you said, she’s a Queen,” Noire snorted. “Unless you can consciously wield at any time the amount of magic you had out there, I don’t think you would match up to her, even if you learn something new in the Crystal Empire. But, you know what, that’s actually your decision. I want to protest, but somehow I get the feeling I’m going to be following you instead of you following me. I mean, I owe you big-time, regardless. You took me in, you gave me a roof over my head, and you helped me through a tough time.” Noire choked back a sob and said, "Then, this. Even beyond my physical appearance, I, well, I never detested my old Cutie Mark, but it's nice to have something visible on my flanks. So yeah, you go somewhere, and I'll be right behind you."

Trixie smiled joyously, eyes threatening to unleash tears onto her dry cheeks. “Thanks, Noire,” Trixie said, sweeping up the batpony into a hug.

“You’re welcome,” said Noire.

Despite her words, Trixie couldn’t help but frown as soon as she knew Noire couldn’t see her face. She thought back to what she had said about travelling to see the Crystal Heart.

That was mostly the truth. Trixie, however, held back the one thing that she knew would cast a pall of distrust upon her. She desperately wished to keep Noire as a travelling companion, and so would never confess the one thing she had omitted.

When Trixie had been possessed by the power of the black moon, it was like she had unlimited power, a repeat of an incident from a few years before. The taint of the Alicorn Amulet may have finally disappeared, but she hungered for the strength she had felt in those moments once more. More than just raw energy, she wanted, thirsted for Power.

Perhaps the Crystal Heart would supply that.

“We’ll miss you, Trix,” The slate-furred stallion said, eyes watering up as he hugged the unicorn mare.

Trixie held in a snort. While she had chatted with Einkorn many times over the last few years and considered him a genuine friend, Trixie had an inkling much of his enthusiasm came from something else. Well, she would miss him too, having known him for quite a time in both senses of the word. She patted his barrel with her hoof, “There, there, Einkorn,” she said, trying to reassure the younger pony. “You knew I wasn’t going to stay around forever, didn’t you?”

“Th—that’s true,” Einkorn sniffed, looking up so eyes the shade of basalt met violet. “But, you did get my hopes up with how long you’ve stayed here.”

“That’s also true,” said Trixie. “I had a lot to work out once I learned my father had gone missing and likely dead. But once I did, well, Whinnychester may be my home…”

“But idle hooves are itchy hooves,” Einkorn completed for her. The two shared a short chuckle at that. He had been surprised to see her return home and stay there after she had left shortly after she grew up, going on about her wanderlust. Every day Trixie had stayed must have stunned him again and again.

Trixie broke the hug off, turning around only to come face to face with Morning Star, the town doctor. The good doctor removed the bubble pipe he had been idly blowing out of off-and-on from to speak, “Now now, Bellatrix, Bella, Trixie, whatever name you want to use, if you ever get tired of the road we’ll always welcome you back with open hooves.”

“It’s Trixie,” Trixie said. “I’ll eventually return, I just don’t know when.”

“We’ll keep your house maintained until then,” said Straw Thatcher, a golden-furred mare who was one of the few pegasus living in the village and the closest thing Whinnychester had to a village mayor. “I’m sure I can find a pony or two to rent the place out to during the harvest season, too.”

“That would be perfect, thank you very much,” Trixie said. She scrunched her muzzle, and poked a hoof at the batpony to her side, “C’mon, Australe, speak to the crowd.”

“Huh, oh, right,” Noire said. She had fallen off into a daydream as Trixie had spoken with a procession of villagers. Noire had met many of them, but she had forged no more than a tenuous connection with all but a few. This was Trixie’s time to shine, she had thought.

Noire flapped her wings, taking to the sky. It wasn’t meant to be an intimidating gesture, she just wanted to be able to see all the ponies that were there. It wasn’t quite the couple of hundred ponies that called Whinnychester home, as many of them had already said their goodbyes in individual conversations. Still, an impressive number, about thirty ponies, had turned out to see the two off in pony as they departed just after the morning sun appeared over the horizon.

“Thank you all for coming,” Noire said, taking a mid-air bow, a tricky maneuver to get the meaning of across. “You know, when I first came here, I thought it might be a little difficult to get work, heck, to even fit in, but you ponies treated me like one of your own and found me something to do. It’s a lonely thing, you know, having idle hooves as Einkorn mentioned here, though I think he meant it in a different context.” There were a few laughs at that. One of the laughs was a distinctly nervous chuckle.

“You’re always welcome to a job if you ever come back, Australe,” Winter Wheat said. “You managed to clear a year’s worth of maintenance backlog in two months, and I appreciated that.”

“If I do, I’ll take you up on that,” Noire said as she lowered herself back down to the ground, regretting only that she no longer basked in the rays of the morning sun from her lower ground position. Somehow, she had the feeling this was the last of Whinnychester she would be seeing for a long, long time.

Red Fife marched forward. He was one of the oldest stallions in town, and the pony whose field Trixie had gotten permission to use for her ritual. With a mild harrumph, he rose a hoof and gave Trixie a gentle noogie across her mane. “You take there, kiddo,” the red-furred Earth pony said. “I knew your ma and your pa well, they wouldn’t have wanted you beating yourself up forever. You go out to Equestria, do what you gotta do, and take ‘er by storm.”

Trixie’s eyes watered, and she held back a sniff. She at least wanted to maintain her dignity in front of these ponies. “Thanks, Mr. Fife,” she said. “I’ll miss you, and all of Whinnychester.”

She and Noire traded some more goodbyes with the crowd, but already the farewell party was breaking off, as several ponies had drifted off, returning home. At last, it was left down to Noire and Trixie.

“Once we leave, I’ll never go by the name of Australe again,” Noire suddenly remarked. “That feels a little bit strange.”

“Does it really?” Trixie asked, checking her saddle bags one last time before leaving. All of her supplies and bits were where she had left them. The two had considered building a wagon for the road, but Trixie had ultimately vetoed the idea. Never mind that they were going to take a train on several occasions, which would cost a staggering amount of bits. She wasn’t a particularly superstitious pony, but the last two times she had hitched a wagon around, disaster struck. Trixie wasn’t certain she could take the heartbreak over the loss of a third wagon.

Besides, she had the feeling she was to chart a new road in her life, one that a wagon simply wouldn’t fit in.

“No, not really,” Noire said. “It never really was me, you know? But the instant I came under the power of the moon, I was Noire.”

“A total change of identity, a rebirth under the black moon,” Trixie mused, finally beginning to walk. She calculated her steps against her hoof-length. “If we make good timing, we should be in Fillydelphia by mid-afternoon.”

Noire fell into lockstep beside Trixie, “If I recall, there’s an overnight train leaving from Fillydelphia. It, it bypasses Canterlot entirely, going through the Unicorn Range and making a stop in Vanhoover. Then from there it goes past the Galloping Gorge and finally to the Crystal Empire. It makes that entire trip in about twenty hours.”

“So we should be there early evening,” Trixie said. “Enough time to book a room, and perhaps even to examine the Crystal Heart, if it truly is on public display as you say.” Noire nodded in assent, and the pair of ponies fell into silence.

The two continued, walking down the western road leading out of Whinnychester. Soon, the flat valley that Whinnychester had been founded in gave way to rolling hills, ones that went up more often than they went down, giving the two ponies greater altitude. Even with her wings, Noire still stayed on her hooves. There was a romantic sense to using her four lower limbs, leaving the town that had housed her for a few months behind at her back.

At the top of one especially large hill, Trixie paused, before looking back behind her, at the shrinking town of Whinnychester. She honestly didn’t know if she would ever return here, even as her id, ego and superego all proclaimed that she must. Trixie had said her goodbyes, but she felt as if she had forgotten something. Suddenly, it came to an epiphany.

As the wind cast in through the valley, Trixie whispered to herself, “Goodbye, mother. Goodbye, father.” Turning back around, she continued trotting along the road, catching back up with Noire.

Seconds later, she added to that, “Who dares, wins.”

The crescent moon set over the eastern sky, as two ponies whose Cutie Marks were linked to it left the land of wheat behind.

Author's Note

When I originally developed the plot outline for this story, there was a fair amount of symbolism around the phases of the moon, hence New Moon's name, the Dead Moon comment, the Black Moon, etc.

Here's a problem I only realised later: in Equestria, there logically shouldn't be anything like a lunar cycle. Earth's lunar cycle involves the moon's revolution around the Earth not matching up with Earth's rotational speed, so we alternate from a new moon to a full moon and back approximately every 29 and a half days. In Equestria, the Sun and Moon are manually raised and lowered offering a clear demarcation between day and night, and an image search of episodes show there's never been a partial moon (sometimes there's a small crescent with slightly darker lighting than the rest of the moon, but that's about it).

However, the New Moon arc relies on a lunar cycle for both symbolism and plot. So, Word of God: Lunar cycles exist in this story and blue moons/black moons happen just as often in Equestria as they do on Earth.

And that completes the New Moon Arc. The next Arc: Stasis.

"I may not have chosen to live here, but I choose to die here."

Stasis: The North

Trixie, in her life, had been a rather egotistical mare. She had been brought low twice, fighting back and pulling herself up the cliff she had fallen off one hoofgrip at a time to recover, before her path had been interrupted for two years and change.

In both those cases, she had been humiliated by another mare. This time, however, Trixie felt humbled by a single magical dome. The sheer scale of the dome that engulfed the Crystal Empire was beyond Trixie’s belief. She had heard that a lone pony had created a barrier over Canterlot a few years ago, but that had apparently been a non-discriminatory shield that kept out anypony who wasn’t keyed in to the barrier or allowed in by guardsponies.

The dome over the Crystal Empire was apparently warded merely to stop out entities with questionable motives, and was singularly responsible for climate control within the vast area underneath the dome. The tracks leading into the Crystal Empire had taken a curious zig-zag when it could have gone straight north into the city proper, leaving it driving at a parallel to the dome. Trixie suspected it was to give ponies in the cabins a chance to look out the windows.

It was a design decision Trixie mentally praised. Right in front of the train, she could still see the falling snow and the frozen river, but if she looked up and ahead just a little bit, she could see the slight tint where the dome began, and beyond that, greens and blues of such a bright shade that it almost hurt to see after hours of white, and finally the grand architecture of a majestic city lost to time itself.

Then the train passed through to the inside of the dome.

The temperature immediately went up, but more than that, Trixie felt warm. There was a tiny sensation of constant euphoria, niggling at her background senses. She tried to grasp it, only for it always slip out of her mental hooves.

“You feel it as well,” Noire said, having looked over at Trixie’s face only to see her blanked out, lost in thought.

“Yes. I wonder if the Crystal Ponies feel this all the time. If so, does anypony here ever even suffer from depression?”

“Given they’re a thousand years behind the rest of us and suffered under a witch king, I should expect so,” Noire said. “Sorry. Sarcasm aside, I do know the castle signed off to pay for mental therapists to relocate to the Crystal Empire, so I expect they do. Maybe not as at high rates in normal times, but they’re still ponies, just like you and I.”

The train began to slow down as it approached its final destination, the great train station that the travel brochure stated had been constructed over the last few years to receive tourists and businessponies alike from all across Equestria. Already, Trixie and Noire could see ponies scattered about on the station dock, many of them no doubt there to catch the train going back the other way. “Ponies who also get a crystalline sheen to their coats,” Trixie remarked. She had seen a few Crystallised ponies getting onto the train in Fillydelphia and then Vanhoofer, no doubt returning home, but seeing the many Crystal ponies out on the station was enough to leave her breathless.

“They lose them if they’re away from home for some time,” Noire said. “For the long-time residents it’s a few months. Though, there are a lot of regular ponies who will come here several times a year to get a crystal coat which takes a couple of weeks to completely fade away after going back south.”

“Vanity,” Trixie said, snorting.

“Yes, that’s usually the general consensus,” Noire said. By this time, the train had come to a complete stop, but it would be several minutes before the passengers would be let out. Noire stepped out from her seat in the meantime, spreading out her wings and stretching her limbs. The batpony let out a cross between a yawn and a content moan, flexing muscles that had seen little use since their stopover in Vanhoofer.

As Noire returned to the chair, Trixie said, “Celestia hasn’t quite lowered the sun yet. I don’t quite know where the library is, but in all honesty I’m exhausted.”

“Find a hotel, tour tomorrow?” Noire asked, eyebrows raised.

The train’s intercom system turned on, announcing that the train was fully docked and unloaded, and all passengers were allowed to leave. Fortunately, their car wasn’t too packed, so ponies standing up were quickly able to clear out.

“Yes,” Trixie said, “I think that. It is rather fortunate we only had our carry-ons, I shudder to think of how long the line-up to get full luggage would have been.”

“It took five minutes to put the luggage on at Fillydelphia,” Noire deadpanned.

Trixie chuckled, and said, “Yes, well, a fair mare needs to find time for her beauty sleep and grooming from elsewhere, and those are five minutes not wasted elsewhere.”

Noire rolled her eyes, and gently punched Trixie in the shoulder, “You’re incorrigible.” Traffic in the aisles was thinning out. “C’mon, let’s go.”

It didn’t take the two mares long to find a place to stay. The Empire had returned just a little over three years ago, but more industrial ponies had already put up new hotels on the southern end nearest the train station, with room capacity to spare.

Noire opened up the blinds, exposing light into their third-story unit. “Oh, wow,” she said, provoking Trixie into looking over and out the window. The unicorn had to admit she was impressed. The hotel towered over most of the single-story flats sprinkled throughout the city, giving the two a direct line-of-sight to the Crystal Palace at the centre of the city.

“It’s pretty,” Trixie said to Noire, more sophisticated language failing her at the moment.

Noire brought a hoof up to her forehead, shielding her eyes from the bright rays of the sun on the western horizon only just beginning to dip out of sight. With her view, Noire surveyed the city below further. The Crystal Palace at the city’s heart had multiple roads branching out that all extended to the city’s outskirts, rather like the spokes of a wheel. The community’s many buildings were bunched in between each of these roads, the effect making it so that if Noire wished, she could walk downstairs and head straight north to the Palace, with no detours or winding roads in between.

“Trixie, why don’t we go and check out the Crystal Heart tonight?” Noire suggested, pointing her other front hoof at the Crystal Palace. “I can’t see from this far, especially not with the sun in my face, but the brochure did say the Crystal Heart is usually on display in the plaza under the palace.”

Trixie looked at the clock on the wall, then out the window, before she said, “Sure.” That was one of two items on their bucket list, and the easier one to knock off.

The two trotted down the stairs, the modern hotel beginning to feel out of place compared to the crystalline architecture they had just witnessed, before leaving their place of stay and onto the long road to the city centre.

“So, the Crystal Empire,” Noire said, making conversation. “We’re finally here. I’ve been wanting to come north for a while. I just never imagined it would be under these circumstances.”

“I wonder what the effect would be to be on one of the eastern roads right now, with the sun setting behind the palace,” Trixie said.

“I’ve seen the Summer Sun Celebration a few times and even the Winter Solstice once. Maybe something like that, where the sun shines around the crystal and presents a unique light show?” Noire guessed. “That’s actually something I’d like to see, now that you mention it. The brochure doesn’t mention any such thing, but perhaps one of the Crystal Ponies here would know?”

“Yeah, wherever they are,” Trixie said, noting the absence of crystalline coats, though there were a few other obvious tourists on the path to the Palace. She took in a deep breath and exhaled in a soft sigh. She had charted an unknown number of leagues on her travels across Equestria in the past, and had even just walked from Whinnychester to Fillydelphia in under a day, but seeing the long walk still ahead of her, Trixie was finally sick of it. What she would give for wings at this moment. Heck, even self-levitation sounded good, and that was more reasonably within her grasp. If only teleportation didn’t consume so much energy.

Noire correctly picked up on the source of her sigh. “Hey, cheer up!,” the batpony said with gusto, her good mood ever since her transformation seemingly irrevocable. “I have wings and I could fly, but I’m walking and keeping you company!”

It was an infectious sort of good cheer, which Trixie couldn’t help but smile at. “And for that, I thank you,” she said. With the slip in Trixie’s dismal mood, her mental barriers were down, and the tiny constant euphoria radiating from the Crystal Heart gave her a boost and a spring to her trot. The distant span of the tall palace was coming in closer with every hoofstep.

They continued walking for a few more minutes, only the clopping of their hooves against the tiles overcoming the light, white noise that permeated the city reborn, until Trixie got fed up with the silence. Searching for a topic to talk about, the unicorn seized upon an oddity that Noire might be able to explain away. “Say, Noire. Wasn’t this city originally independent from Equestria before it disappeared?”

Noire perked up, and she answered, “It was, ruled by a Princess Amore before the tyrant Sombra took over. I’m obviously not privy to the behind-the-scene details, but supposedly Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, y’know, Princess Cadence, is a descendent of the old royal family, sharing the Amore name.” The batpony shrugged helplessly. “Rumour says Princess Cadence was an orphan raised by two Earth ponies which I find suspicious, but what do I know? When the Empire returned, she was instrumental in defeating Sombra, so I guess the Crystal Ponies acquiesced to her becoming their ruler and being absorbed into Equestria.”

Trixie wrinkled her snout at that. “Still seems a little odd.”

“Well, Sombra did kill off their entire royal family, aside from one who supposedly fled and managed to have a descendant a thousand years later, and from the sounds of it he disbanded their civil service and enslaved everypony,” Noire said, trying to impress the point on her friend before Trixie could say something tactless in front of a crowd.

“Ah. Sorry,” Trixie said, quickly shutting up.

“It’s alright. Just try to, you know, be a bit more understanding of their history. The Crystal Ponies have gone through a tough time.”

As Trixie and Noire began to finally approach the Crystal Palace, the density of ponies on the streets sharply increased, ponies with normal coats and ponies with crystalline coats alike. Many appeared to have a purpose with the Crystal Palace itself, entering and exiting the doors that lead into the great towering structure that served as the city’s command centre.

Still, there were a sizeable number of ponies and even a few other creatures, such as the odd griffon, surrounding the Crystal Heart. The Heart itself sat on a column at a height about the reach of a fully-grown pony standing up and stretching her front limbs. Four Crystal Ponies stood around the Heart spread evenly apart, while four more Crystal Ponies were in the air, constantly searching the crowd. All eight ponies held a spear in a limb and a shield on their back.

The tourists and patrons were barely fazed by the military presence, and through the thick crowd a line had formed. Ponies, one single or couple or family at a time, approached the Heart close up. The occasional unicorn or Earth pony stood up to brush the Crystal Heart, while the Pegasi by advantage of their wings were more consistent in touching a hoof against the Crystal Heart. A few had pictures taken of them standing by the artifact.

Trixie and Noire traded looks.

“What do you think?” Noire asked. “Think it should be safe to give it a try?”

Over the space of a few seconds, Trixie hemmed and hawed. It might give her a significant boost in energy, even beyond the full reserves Trixie was running with. It might not do anything. It might provoke a magical backlash, throwing her back and exposing her as somepony not quite fully a pony. The potential risks scared her more than the possible benefits.

Who dares, wins.

“Let’s do it,” Trixie said. Noire appeared to be in agreement, as she moved to line up at the back of the line.

The two shut up as the line in front of them whittled down slowly. While they had been able to talk in relative private on the train and the walk down to the Palace, there were simply too many ponies to risk somepony else even accidentally overhearing them. A guard might not understand what Noire or Trixie meant when they talked about ‘absorbing energy’, but he would be hard-pressed to let it pass, especially after the centaur who had rampaged through Equestria a few years before.

As Trixie began to get to the front of the line, she could feel the assessing eyes of the guardsponies, just daring her to appear to be a threat. Fortunately, they mostly passed over her form, appearing to reserve their scrutiny for Noire. At a guess, Trixie assumed they could see some of Noire’s military training shine through in her fit form and rigid posture, always only a few seconds away from turning her own body into a weapon.

It felt like no time at all before at last the two got to the front of the line, with a family getting a picture taken in front of them. It was then a thought occurred to Trixie.

Which one of us should go first?

“I’ll go first.”

Trixie blinked, turning to Noire, who had just spoken, seemingly having read Trixie’s mind. “OK,” Trixie said, assenting to the batpony.

The family ahead finally scattered, their vacation scrapbooking done, and Noire stepped forward. Flapping her wings, she hovered above the air, and brushed the Crystal Heart.

Trixie sucked in a deep breath.

Nothing happened.

Noire rubbed the Crystal Heart for a few seconds longer, then turned around, a neutral expression on her face. Noire flew off to the side before landing, waiting for Trixie.

Trixie exhaled, then moved forward. Approaching the stone pillar supporting the Heart, she stood up on her back hooves. Leaning on one of her front limbs as support, she stretched and reached out for the Crystal Heart.

The Heart was cool to the touch on her hoof. As she touched it, Trixie could feel that tiny background euphoria increase, but the result was negligible. Dropping down to the ground, she walked away, letting the next set of ponies in line walk up.

The two mares slowly moved away from the Heart, cantering down the road south back to their hotel. “Well, that was a bust,” Trixie said once the crowd had cleared out and there were no ponies around for several dozen metres.

“It was,” Noire agreed. “At a guess, I think a ‘ling might be able to live here full-time. But actually doing more than surviving on that amount of energy? No, impossible.”

“Well, I guess you were right about the Crystal Heart after all,” Trixie said. She sighed, “Hopefully the libraries around here provide something new. At the least they’ll certainly be a lot larger than the shed in Whinnychester.”

“Trixie, do you think…do you think you could teach me magic?”

Trixie blinked, turning head to look over at Noire. “Magic? You mean like unicorn magic?”

Noire nodded, “Yes.”

“Are you sure? I mean, it’s doable, but you’d have to dig deep into your energy reserves to do any significant spellwork.”

Noire scrunched her nose at that, and said, “That’s true, but I’ve kept a large reserve myself over the years.” As the daughter of a pony and a changeling, Noire had the capacity to use magic from all three tribes. However, each tribe had its own separate pool of magic. As a winged batpony, Noire was competent at flight and weather manipulation. She had helped knock around clouds from time to time in Whinnychester, though the town was too small to justify a full-time position in weather control.

When it came to attempting unicorn or Earth pony powers, Noire would be much more limited, with her access to magical power far lesser. She, along with Trixie, both maintained small pools of reserve magic that was their hereditary gifts from their fathers that could be used in all types of pony magic, but it could deplete surprisingly quick.

“Did your father teach you anything?” Trixie asked.

“Some, but not very much. He was never personally trained himself beyond the basics in the hive, and he never made it a priority to learn from the other aunts and uncles when they occasionally visited. I managed to push a bit beyond him, but it was a lot of trial-and-error since it’s not like a pegasus could ask for help with unicorn magic.”

“Well, I may not be the Princess of Magic,” and here Trixie snorted in disdain, old, unpleasant memories bubbling up to the surface before she relentlessly pushed them back down, and said, “But I know a decent amount of spells. More importantly, I’ve refined my casting over the last few years for efficiency, which will be doubly important for you. Telekinesis?”

“Levitation and light lateral movements. I’ve occasionally used my magic to get bolts on and in place when doing it by hoof becomes a nuisance,” Noire admitted, before she gave her wings a flap. “These wings of mine might be useful at picking up and holding objects, but using them to run a screwdriver or a hammer is not a pleasant thing to do.”

“I can only imagine,” Trixie said, before she sighed. Wings were a pipe dream for her. The unicorn mare opened her mouth to speak, only to inadvertently take a deep breath, tension pressing down on her chest before she let it all back out in a near-roaring yawn. “Oh, excuse me,” Trixie said, before taking a look behind her. Only a tiny sliver of the sun could be seen over the western horizon. Meanwhile, the moon was just beginning to peak above the mountains to the east, seeking to make its big entrance. In a way, Trixie had always felt at one with the moon.

Noire didn’t even attempt to keep the amusement out of her voice. “That’s alright. But beyond basic telekinesis, let’s see, I toyed around a little bit with heating and cooling spells, useful for summer day shifts and winter night shifts. Not too much beyond that, again, there wasn’t really anypony I could’ve learned from. Oh! I did learn one spell to help hide my smell, I used it when fleeing Canterlot. I don’t know if that helped or not, though. I like to think it did at least.”

Trixie whistled in appreciation. “A scent-masking spell? That’s honestly an intermediate level. I’d be impressed if you learned it entirely out of a book with no guidance.” The blue mare frowned, suddenly struck by an epiphany, “Say, when you actively use magic, you, well, you don’t have a horn. Does your body radiate luminescence anywhere like a unicorn’s horn does? I’ve never actually seen you use magic, at least, I don’t think I have.”

“No, I don’t. Though, father warned me though that if I used strong enough magic my entire body might glow.”

“Hmm…” Trixie thought aloud. “Tell you what, let’s use that pool the hotel has, and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

“Oh Princesses, that was the most divine sensation I’ve ever felt!”

“You truly haven’t been to a hot spring or a heated pool in, well, ever, have you?”

“Can you blame Trixie? I mean, she’s been on the roa—“

“You’re doing your third-pony speech again.”

“Oh, sorry. I still slip into it from time to time. Um, can you blame me? I was on the road travelling for several years, staying in my wagon, and then in Whinnychester for another two and a half years. I never had to spring money for a hotel, and what natural hot springs there are in Equestria have almost all been commercialised.”

“You had your giant bathtub at home, though,” Noire pointed out.

“Yeah, but even for its size, it was nowhere near as spacious as that heated pool was,” Trixie said as she approached their hotel room door. She put her horn to the lock, opening it up with her magic. The locks in the new hotels were truly state-of-the-art. “Natural hotsprings are even better since they’re always being being heated geothermally which gives it that authentic vibe.”

“Unless they happen to be releasing a lot of sulfur gases with it,” said Noire as she entered their room.

Trixie scrunched her noise, following Noire inside and closing the door behind her, then laughed aloud, “When did we become so, I guess for lack of a better word, snarky towards one another, Noire?”

“We’ve always been that way, even when we were young. I think you just forgot that when we fell apart for several years,” Noire pointed out. Bat-like wings flapped open, grabbing a hold of a fresh towel to continue drying her fur off.

Trixie thought on that as she cast to grab her own extra towel, making sure to keep her mane and tail from getting too tousled from her drying job. Noire was correct. “Yeah,” Trixie said, before falling silent. Those had been the good days, when both of them were fillies and Trixie had moved to the big city, attending Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns in Canterlot. Trixie studied hard at the school, constantly attempting to improve her talent at magic that she had discovered under a cloudless night sky.

Then the colour of her magical aura had changed, something that was supposed to be impossible, and her life had all gone downhill from there.

“Memories, huh?” Noire asked.

“You’re good at that. At reading minds, that is.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t realised,” Noire said mischievously, “That’s my new talent. It’s not really a crescent moon, it’s a stylised eye that I can look to peer into your eyes and read your deepest, darkest secrets.”

“OK, now you’re just being creepy,” Trixie deadpanned.

“Hah!” Noire laughed. “But no seriously, I hope mind magic isn’t something you intend for me to learn. I might not be a guardspony, but I still have my morals.”

A shiver passed through Trixie’s spine. No, not mind magic! She screamed at herself. The Alicorn Amulet had been a strong enough lesson that she didn’t think she could even ever turn that kind of magic on somepony else. Even the mere thought of revolted her, chunks of train food threatening to leave the way they had entered her body through. “I—I don’t th-think we’ll be doing that.”

Noire was easily able to read her friend’s expression, “Sorry! Sorry! Trixie, what’s wrong?!”

Trixie waved it off with a hoof, “It’s nothing, nothing really.” She looked up into an iron gaze, and knew she wouldn’t be getting off that easily. “Sorry, it’s just, what you said reminded me of the Alicorn Amulet. I had enough of mind magic with that to last me a lifetime.”

“Oh,” Silence. Then, “Sorry.”

“That’s the third time you’ve apologised,” said Trixie. “Methinks you doth apologiseth too much.”

“For a performer, you sure aren’t good at old Equish,” Noire mused.

“Critics, all of you. But enough of that, tomorrow’s a big day,” Trixie said, peering out the window. The moon was finally out, showing off its splendor to the civilisations below. It had taken the two almost a week to get their affairs settled in Whinnychester following the black moon, and then a few more days to make it here, so the moon was in its waxing gibbous phase. “We’re foreigners here so we won’t exactly be allowed to borrow top-secret spellbooks, or even borrow a book for that matter, but we should be able to look at what’s available in the library itself.”

“Oh, I can’t wait! This is going to be so exciting,” Noire said, wings flapping erratically as she tossed her towel aside, successfully getting it to land on a drying rack.

“Heh,” Trixie chuckled to herself, pulling out a toothbrush and toothpaste. Trixie liked magic as much as the next pony, slowly gaining her joy for it over the last few years after her incidence of abusing her talent with the Amulet, but it had been quite some time since she had actually hopped around out of sheer excitement.

Who knew? She had come here hoping the Crystal Heart could fill that growing hole in her heart, that acute thirst to feel power again, and had flopped. But if there was something half-decent in the libraries lost to history for a thousand years, then maybe this trip would turn out for the better after all.

“I’m actually amazed,” Trixie said as she dropped another book onto the table. She and Noire had awoken as morning broke with the raising of the sun, inquiring at the front desk about libraries, and slowly drifted over to the closest one after a quick breakfast. “Most scholars are barely able to read anything from two thousand years ago, yet there seems to be almost no linguistic drift between us and the Crystal Empire.”

“Uh-huh,” was all that the unicorn got in response, as Noire was busy absorbed in a book that Trixie had pointed out for her. The library was an odd mishmash of thousand year old texts and far more modern works, yet another symptom of being in stasis for a thousand years.

Trixie grinned at her friend’s nonchalance. Noire’s mood had been on-and-off in Whinnychester, feeling confined by the falsehoods she had to spin. Being able to break out and wander with a permanent new identity seemed to have done Noire a world of good. Trixie hoped to keep it that way. Moving back to the shelf, she skimmed through the shelf, hoping to find something good for herself.

Fortunately, the library was sparsely populated, thus why Trixie and Noire had a whole table to themselves. Idle gossip that the two had overheard at the pool the night before led Trixie to believe most Crystal ponies who wanted to acquaint themselves with this brave new world went on trips down south to experience the Equestria of the present first-hoof, rather than read what new volumes their libraries had acquired. Similarly, the initial bout of scholastic tourism had died down, with most intellectuals already having journeyed north two years ago with the Empire’s reappearance. In any case, Trixie was also free to mumble aloud without getting dirty looks as she read the spines of the books one by one.

“Hmm, let’s see…Meadowbrook’s theories on teleportation…nope, disproved several centuries later. Bark Maxwell’s work relating magic and magnetism? Interesting, but not quite what I’m looking for. Oooh, an in-depth study on Clawsius’ treatise on magically-generated thermodynamic cycles? This would’ve been useful years ago. Seriously, what is with the mixing of old and new here, and the organisation, most librarians would’ve had a fit by now—ah!”

Trixie carefully grasped the book with her hoof. Most patrons looked down on a pony using her teeth to pull reading material around, and she just didn’t feel like using her magic right now. Putting it on her back, she trotted back to the table, getting ready to read

Noire looked up, finally having broken off from her engrossing read. “Find something good?” She asked.

Trixie nodded, “Yes! This place has some of the works of the ancient Griffon sorcerer Blackbeak, who was one of the early predecessors of the field of illusion magic. A lot of his essays have vanished into obscurity over time, making it incredibly difficult to read his material.” Laying her book onto the table, she turned it around for Noire to read.

“A Treatise on Our Perception v. Reality, by Blackbeak,” Noire read, even going to so far as to pronounce the title with the shortened form of 'v' instead. Using her nose to flip open the book to a random page, she assessed the size of the hand-written notes against the thickness of the book before she whistled, “Looks like that’ll consume most of the day for you.”

“I know!” Trixie was practically gushing, only library etiquette keeping the volume of her voice low. Sitting down on her haunches, she had to keep her back legs from bouncing with excitement. Perhaps she had been too quick to believe last night that she had gotten past irrational bouts of filly-like exuberance.

Turning the book back around, Trixie turned to the front page. Slowly, she began reading, hoping to excavate a treasure trove of new, old knowledge.

A sudden thud sound brought Noire out of her reading reverie, the batpony clearing the floor by several centimeters with her jump. “Hu-wha?” Noire darted her head around, only to turn back and face the mare right in front of her.

“Nothing!” Trixie hissed, “There’s absolutely nothing of use in here!”

“Er?”

“I wasted several hours reading a document that underpinned the works of several of Blackbeak’s successors, and there wasn’t a single useful thing in here. Most if it’s been dissected and done better since, in easier-to-read language as well.”

“Isn’t that sort of the point of research and essays?” Noire asked. “To build off works done by other ponies and advance our understanding of the way things are, usually at an incremental rate?”

“Blackbeak was a griffon,” Trixie said with a snort. “But besides that, usually when building off earlier works, some stuff gets left behind. Either it’s because it’s proven incorrect or it’s less efficient, but I’ve seen everything written here in far more modern texts, those written in the last century.” She pawed at the floor with a hoof, wrinkling her nose, “The only thing new here is Blackbeak going off-topic for several pages in a pseudo-philosophical tract. I suppose that might be why I’ve never seen this book before.”

“Pseudo-philosophic?” Noire raised her eyebrows in amusement. “Like what? The whole ‘I think, therefore I am’ spiel?”

“That was Reneigh Haycartes who said that,” Trixie said, ignoring that the comment had been made in jest. “But no, Blackbeak goes and talks about how reality might not even exist, and that we’re all technically in one grand, shared illusion that each one of us can manipulate from a low-level state. More powerful beings, such as the princesses, have higher-level states, and the deities above even higher-level states.”

“That…I don’t get it,” Noire admitted. “Well actually, I kind of understand it a bit, but I can see what you mean by it being bunk.”

Trixie nodded. “Yes, and what’s more—“

“Hmph, is that bitch still up north?”

“Who?”

“You know, her. The one who the Witch King sent up.”

“Oh, her. Yeah, she’s still up there.”

“Hmmph, and good riddance to her.”

“I wouldn’t say that, dude, definitely not out loud. Who knows what freaky powers she has that he sent her north?”

“Well, there’s not much she can do up at the fort. I hope she never comes back.”

By this time, the conversation had gotten loud enough that what few ponies there were in the library almost simultaneously let out out a giant shush, “Shhhh!”

Noire and Trixie exchanged confused looks, then looked over to where the chatty ponies stood.

They were two crystalline stallions. Going off what their mentions of Sombra, Trixie surmised they had been part of those frozen in stasis, which gave her an ineffable feeling of vertigo at one of them using the rather modern slang of ‘dude’. Despite the sheen of their coats, the two stallions were still able to blush, apparently embarrassed over having raised their voices in a library. Quickly dropping the level of their voices back to normal, the one Crystal pony said, “Well, you’re in luck. From the reports DD writes, she doesn’t plan on coming back. She feels she has an obligation to stay up there.”

The other stallion snorted, and he said, “Obligation? More like she knows she screwed up and doesn’t want to face us. I bet the Prince and Princess never got told about her, I can’t think of any other reason she hasn’t been thrown in a dungeon to rot yet. I wonder if she was one of his concubines or something.”

The first stallion’s face went from red to white in an instant. Trixie marveled at how, where other ponies were said to ‘turn red’ with anger or embarrassment or ‘turn white’ with fear, Crystal ponies could do it literally. She could only wonder if they turned green with envy as well. Said stallion grabbed his friend’s shoulder, and hissed to him, “Dude, public place!” He turned the other pony’s head around, showing him the glares of several reading ponies.

His friend seemed to take the message more keenly this time around.

“Sorry, sorry folks, we’ll leave you be,” the first stallion said, dragging his friend behind him and out the library. The other pony looked reluctant, but another glance at the library patrons convinced him to gallop after his comrade.

“Well, that happened,” Noire commented after the two stallions left.

“It did.”

“I wonder what, or who rather, they were talking about,” Noire said. “They mentioned a mare and a fort up north.”

“It sounded like they were all over a thousand years old. Huh, that’s really weird to say and think, no matter how many times it gets brought up.”

“I can only imagine,” Noire grimaced. “There were a few nobles who made jokes about the Princess’ age along with the Crystal ponies. They made sure neither of the Princesses heard their jokes, and they fizzled out fairly quickly. There was one idiot who made the mistake of comparing Princess Luna’s exile to the Crystal ponies within earshot of Princess Luna, though.” Noire shivered, even in the warm conditions of the library. “You don’t want to know what happened to her.”

“Then I won’t ask,” Trixie said drolly, “But I am rather curious about that fort they mentioned. I wasn’t aware there was even anything further north than the Everhoof Mountain Range.”

“There is the yak nation, but that’s more far to the west and a little bit north rather than straight north,” Noire said, recalling her geography. “Maybe there was something north of the Crystal Empire back before it went into stasis? But I don’t understand, though. Did this fort get caught up in whatever time spell that Sombra used?”

“We could, I guess, ask the librarian? Given the circumstances of the Empire’s disappearance, maybe Crystal ponies are used to having to explain things to outsiders who are unfamiliar with their history? I dunno, it might be worth a try, I hope it doesn’t sound too rude if we did that.”

Noire shrugged. “Never hurts to try. Let’s go ask her, I’m just about done with this book anyways.”

Having come to an agreement, the two rose as one, striding over to the front counter.

“May I help you mares?,” asked the Crystal mare sitting at the desk. She appeared to be a little on the older side, with a light purple coat and a rich, curly purple mane and tail. An odd, crystallised green-and-hat adorned her head. Only her archaic wide-rimmed eyeglasses and her Cutie Mark of a scroll really gave off the impression she was a librarian.

“Yes, but not with books,” Trixie said. “We overheard those two oafs earlier, and were curious about what they were talking about.”

The librarian narrowed her eyes, before she removed her eyeglasses, peering at the unicorn and batpony that stood before her. She sighed, presumably coming to a decision about something, before she said, “When the Witch King cast his spell, it didn’t just ensnare the city proper. The Crystal Empire was more than just this, after all. There were several small villages and forts. When he took over, he pressed most of us into service to work in the mines and on the farms.”

“And the fort, or forts, to the north?” Trixie asked in as delicate a manner as possible. For some reason, this appeared to be a subject the librarian was touchy about, and Trixie didn’t want her to clam up early. “What were they for, a thousand years ago?”

The librarian suddenly shivered, as if a cold had swept through the room. “Windigos.”

Trixie recoiled at that word. She was certain shock was clear on her face.

The purple-coated librarian continued as Noire and Trixie traded looks of disbelief, “When the Empire returned and the Witch King was defeated, it was a confusing time for us all. Our happiest moment, even more than a descendant of Princess Amore returning to us, was finding out that the Windigos had vanished in the last thousand years. He enslaved most of us, but others he threatened, sending them up north to fend off the Windigos. Most of them froze to death up there. Once the Empire returned and he was defeated, all but a hoofful of ponies sent up there returned.”

“But a few did,” Noire said. “This mare was one of them?”

It was Noire’s turn to recoil as the librarian’s expression suddenly turned vicious. “That one is no mare. She practically volunteered, and the Witch King made her the commander up there! I hope the Princess stripped her of her title, I shudder to think of her as the third-highest authority in the land.”

This is getting stranger and stranger, Trixie thought to herself. Well, curiosity may have killed the cat, but there was no equivalent saying for ponies. She asked, “What did she do, exactly?”

“No! No more,” the librarian shook her head. “I’ve told you tourists enough.” Frowning, she looked over the table the two had occupied for most of the morning and part of the afternoon. “If you don’t have any more use of our fair library, then please leave. I’ll put your books away.”

Trixie and Noire traded looks yet again, surprised at the sudden icy attitude of the librarian. “Let’s go, Noire,” Trixie said. She didn’t care to be in a hostile environment like this. Neither did Noire, as the batpony was quick to follow behind her.

“What do you think, Trixie?”

“I think I’m glad there’s more than one library in this city. That librarian definitely didn’t look happy.”

After being pressed into leaving the library, Trixie and Noire found themselves wandering around, looking for a restaurant. In the meantime, they had started talking about what had just happened.

“There is that,” Noire admitted, “But I was talking about this fort they’re talking about. Did you listen, Trixie? They were terrified to say Sombra’s name, always calling him the ‘Witch King’. But he’s dead now. Whoever this mare is they’re talking about, they never called her by her name either.”

“That’s, huh. Now that you mention it, that is weird. Well, Sombra I guess I can understand, from the sounds of it was he an absolute tyrant, but this other pony? What did she do?” Trixie asked, scrunching her snout in confusion.

“I don’t think it could’ve been anything too horrible,” said Noire. “Nothing like, I don’t know, participating in Sombra’s slavery? Otherwise Princess Cadance would have had her removed if she was an awful pony. I think she may have simply had a special talent for running a fort and doing whatever it is they did to defend against Windigos.”

“But she, whoever she is, also has a bad reputation among ponies here,” Trixie pointed out.

Noire shrugged, and she said, “Again, I’m guessing here, but I would bet they think she got off easy. Ponies today don’t have an appreciation for the number and intensity of skirmishes the Border Guards get into with dragons and changelings or even the Arimaspi, and the number of missions into places like the Flame Geyser Swamp to temporarily pacify the monsters there. Heck, there was even an attack just outside Canterlot a few years ago by a creature called a bugbear, and most of the civilians didn’t even notice.”

“What’s your point, exactly?”

“Look, the Empire is protected by this dome here, right? But it doesn’t extend out to the forts. Maybe most Crystal ponies didn’t realise how terrifying Windigos could be, and thought this, this pony Sombra sent up got a plum cushion job sitting around compared to the rest of them, who had to work hard, menial labour on the farms or in the mines.”

“That’s probably true,” Trixie said. “But it feels like there’s still something more to it.”

Noire narrowed her eyes, and said, “Why are you talking like that, Trixie? It almost sounds like you’re thinking about going up there.”

“I am,” admitted Trixie.

Noire curled her wings in around herself. “You’re going to have to do a good job upselling me, Trix. I came along with you to the Crystal Empire because there was value in coming here, and a nice tourist spot beside, and I felt like I owed you my loyalty. Freezing my dock off to go explore some fort whose purpose seems to have passed, which we might not even be able to get into, is something different.”

Trixie stopped trotting, and she looked around behind her, then to her sides, and even up. There was a nice restaurant in the distance that appeared to serve local cuisine, but it would have to wait a few minutes. Turning around to meet Noire vis-à-vis, she whispered, “Changelings and Windigos were anathema to one another for the longest time. Her hive is in the Badlands, way at the other end of Equestria. It might put her in a good mood if we were able to bring observations of them having disappeared.”

Noire raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? I would think the lack of any Windigos in several centuries would clue her in to that.”

“Yes, well, these are ponies who actively fought them,” Trixie argued. “They may have missed out on a lot of history, but they might have some insight into why the Windigos disappeared. That, and they have actual experience with dealing with them, which is more than any Changeling alive can say.”

The batpony made to speak, then hesitated. Finally, Noire spoke again, “That’s not entirely true, you know.”

“Wh—really? I thought she was just a legend papa made up. No, never mind that.” Trixie rolled her eyes. “If she’s real, then she’s no doubt too fragile to actually fight now. I doubt she would have been fighting them hoof-to-hoof anyways, most likely she stayed behind and governed.”

Noire really had no argument for that. She sighed, looked wistfully at the restaurant that was a mere hundred hoofsteps away from them, then turned back to Trixie. “Fine. Give me lunch and let’s get back to the hotel, and I’ll give you my decision.”

“It’s a deal,” Trixie agreed.

“Ah, those Crystal Berries were delish,” Noire said, making a slurping sound in imitation of having actual food right in front of her.

“Well, you know what they say about birds and bats. If they overeat, they get all bloated and will never be able to fly again,” Trixie teased.

Noire let out a ‘hmmph’ sound, flapping her wings to achieve liftoff, hovering nearly a metre above the ground before dropping back down. “That’s just an urban myth.”

“Quite,” Trixie said. She had had more than her own fair share of food, though. The Crystal Berries had been succulent, having an off-flavour taste Trixie couldn’t quite describe in terms her tongue would recognise, being cool and juicy without quite every tilting strongly to any extreme of the five main gustatory senses. The snow lettuce had had that perfect level of crispiness, literally melting in her mouth. The cinnamon Crystal Apple however, as sweet as it was, was just too far out of Trixie’s comfort zone for her to enjoy, and that was with having a large palate developed over her extensive travels.

She would definitely need to do some pony-paddling in the pool later.

Noire spun around suddenly, and said, “Now, about visiting that fort.”

Trixie tensed up.

“I’m curious, Trixie. Your reasons make sense, but there seems to be something more than that still, or else you wouldn’t seem so desperate. What’s going on there?”

The unicorn mare grimaced, and then she sighed. Well, she might have had to explain it eventually, “I had a, I guess you could call it a feeling, that something important might be up north. That, and I can’t help but feel a sort of connection with whoever this mare is.”

“Like how she’s an apparent outcast, you mean?”

Trixie looked up, blinking, and said, “That’s precisely what I mean.”

“I thought as much,” Noire said. “You know, the Equestrian military has never been the nicest place to work. I mean, that’s obvious given it’s the military, but it seems every decade they attempt to crack down on hazing in the Guard, then once the brass is satisfied that they’ve done a token public job, they move on.”

That was a total non-sequitur, Trixie thought to herself, Or maybe not. I kind of see a link here. “So you think she’s being hazed or something? Seems unlikely to me, if she’s the one leading the ponies at the fort.”

Noire shook her head, and she said, “Not quite what I mean. Rather, Prince Shining Armor, before he became a Prince, was formerly Captain of the Royal Guard in Canterlot. When it was his turn to clean up the ranks, he was as ineffective as past captains were.” Noire let out a long, energy-sapping sigh, and said, “What you said about She Who Must Not Be Named reminded me of that. I suspect the Prince and Princess are so busy with reforming everything in the city proper that anypony who is in one of those villages and forts simply gets ignored. At the same time, as I said earlier, if she was some sort of filly-eating monster, I can’t imagine she would still be running a fort.”

“So you do agree with me!” Trixie said.

“I’m not quite sure why you want to go up there, to learn something for when we attend the Changeling hive, or to meet this mysterious mare.”

That actually got Trixie thinking about her answer, but it didn’t take long for her to come up with one. “Both, I think,” Trixie said.

“Well, me too,” Noire said. “Glad to see we’re both on the same page.”

Trixie raised an eyebrow. Noire had seemed rather argumentative earlier about heading up north, and the unicorn wasn’t sure if her friend had came over to her side completely or was merely going along out of begrudging acceptance. Trixie sighed, deciding to let it go for now, and said, “Well, before we do, we’ll need to get some supplies, and find out where exactly this fort is located. Oh, but even before that, show me how you do your warming spell, I think you’ll want to work on it for when we leave the Empire’s protective dome. And then, if we can’t find a good pair of shaded eyewear, a spell to counter snow-blindness is definitely the second-most important spell to have…”

Trixie and Noire were up and out early the next morning, paying off their room fees. Trixie, having negotiated a lower fee their first night with her silver tongue, managed to lock-in a continued cheap rate for when they returned, in however many days it might be, perhaps even returning within the day. The manager had looked perplexed, seeming to wonder where these two mares would be wondering off to for a day or two before returning, but had bid them good grace, keeping their deposit until they were finally done in the Crystal Empire.

“Last chance if you decide not to go,” Noire warned, shifting her saddlebags around and making sure her goods were secure. She gave her wings an experimental flap, making sure for the hundredth time that morning that, underneath the cloth wing warmers she had purchased and donned, she still had the capacity of flight.

After searching around some more the previous day, the two had located some guardsponies, inquiring about the fort. While they had been similarly mum about the commander of the fort, they appeared far more open about the location of the fort. In contravention of everything Noire’s training had taught her, it was apparently even possible for citizens to visit, though they usually needed a bribe. And thus the two had purchased several kilograms of Crystal Empire delicacies to bring north.

“We’ve gotten this far from Whinnychester, what’s a few steps more?” Trixie asked rhetorically, using her magic to tie together some of the straps on the bright orange outfit around her torso.

“Yeah, sure, maybe just not so, yawn, so early in the morning.”

“This coming from the pony who had to be up at all times of the day depending on her shift in the Guard.”

Noire grimaced as they finally approached the northern gate leading out of the Crystal Empire, “Don’t remind me.”

Two sets of two guardsponies were amassed at the gate, one pair facing inwards, the other out. “Oh? It’s not common to see somepony coming out this way,” one of the Crystal Ponies, a female unicorn, remarked.

“We intend to do a little bit of camping out this way,” Noire said, taking the lead, leaving out the whereabouts of the precise spot they intended to camp out at. “Don’t worry, we’re experienced at this, we have plenty of backup supplies. Worse comes to worse, we have our flares.”

The Crystal unicorn blinked, briefly looking back at her partner before turning back to Noire and Trixie. “Well, it’s hardly unprecedented, just that we usually get larger groups for safety in numbers. Very well, but if there’s only two of you, please don’t partake in spelunking or ice climbing.”

The other Crystal pony, an Earth pony stallion, chimed in, “If you see a yeti, try to run away. If it corners you, feel free to use your flares and we’ll attempt to pursue.”

“I see. Thank you,” Noire said, giving the two guards a brief bow. Trixie, seeing her bow, copied the action a few minutes later.

The two ponies marched out of the gates, trotting north towards where the Crystal Empire’s dome finally stopped protecting the city against the harsh climes of the frozen north. Soon, they would be beyond the crystal city.

Author's Note

It's surprising sometimes how much banter my characters trade.

Amending Fences calls the Descartes expy 'Haycart', but I much prefer Hayscartes, and I even extended the horsepun as Hayscartes.

Extended delay for the next pair of chapters. I definitely need to write those two together before releasing either of them. Plus I have a few government-mandated exams to write. I dunno. Can I ask you guys for a comment or a dozen in the meantime?

Stasis: Iceheart

“So what were the deerfolk like?”

“The deer are mostly a gentle race. The bucks can be quick to anger, but their rage subsides quickly, and it’s rare for them to hold a grudge. Few of them practice magic, but what few shamans they do have share a lot in common with the zebra.”

“What about their kingdom?”

“Their kingdom has many forests, dark green as far as the eye can see, fruits and flowers of a thousand different colours, and streams that are so clear you can see the individual rocks on the riverbed. It's, it's like you can achieve inner peace within a few hours of staying in one of their forests, but a deer can feel just as home on a meadow as they would under the trees.”

The early morning excitement had faded away, and as day passed into evening, Trixie found she was no longer the one asking questions, and instead the one being interrogated as she had let slip that she had traveled extensively. Fortunately, Trixie was armed with many tales to tell, and she quickly fell into the camaraderie of the Crystal ponies around the dinner table, regaling them with gusto of her adventures in far-flung lands.

The Crystal Ponies had lost out on a thousand years of history, and they eagerly ate up her every word. These were the ponies that Trixie especially felt good about entertaining when that had been her career, the ones who lived in isolated places with little to do. That they were filling up her secondary pool of magic in their enraptured state didn’t hurt.

“If I ever get a vacation, I’d much love to take a trip overseas,” Snowpeak sighed. After he had been looked over by the nurse and given a clear billing, followed by his report, he had become acquainted with Trixie and Noire. A Crystal Earth pony, he had a dark blue coat with a mane of pure white, his crystalline body practically glittering. “Maybe a big island somewhere, someplace that has a high mountain and a jungle lower down.”

“Perhaps Haywaii?” Trixie suggested. “I’ve never been there, it’s an island chain formed from several volcanos, only two of which are active now. The inactive volcanos formed large, wide mountains, and there’s several tropical rainforests. It’s only about two days sailing from western Equestria.”

“Maybe. I’ll have to look into it,” Snowpeak said. “The Imperial government prefers us to abstain on collecting our pay so long as we have room and board here. From my understanding, they are still not quite finished converting to Equestrian currency.”

“It’s a slow process,” Diamond Dust said from across the table, having just finished off a piece of fish. “But we’re getting there.”

“Canterlot was what, barely a village on a mountain a thousand years ago?” Noire spoke up. “I guess some of you might have visited the old castle in the Everfree when it was the seat of the Princesses.”

“I did, at least. I remember it well, and it feels strange to have heard from others that it is now a run-down and abandoned castle, in the middle of an outgrown forest. I visited a few times as a courier between the Empire and Equestria before Sombra took over. While the Everfree existed at the time, it was merely a bigger version of the other forests I went to over the years in Equestria. It had wide paths and large clearings though, and ponies put effort into cultivating the individual trees and flowers. They let the flora grow on its own in other areas,” Iceheart said. "On occasion, you would be able to see some of the larger creatures such as an Ursa Minor out foraging for food from the forest. It was a rare treat to see an Ursa Major, something I never got to do, unfortunately."

Trixie shivered at the mention of the Ursa clan. Even years later, she would still wake up in the night, having broken out in a cold sweat, the yellow-and-red eyes of the star bear forever haunting her.

"It's apparently gotten a little bit better over the last few years. The Castle in the Everfree Forest is off-limits, though I expect there's probably the occasional looter and vagrant there, I don't think it's enforced that much," Noire said.

They probably think all the monsters in there would keep ponies away...unless you're a pair of foolish, idiotic colts, Trixie thought.

"Maybe when we finally get out of here, we can start a tourism company of our own?," Powder Blue suggested. "I'm sure there must be at least a few ponies and creatures of the other races who would view the north as an adventure, rather than just someplace that is really cold."

Diamond Dust wrinkled his nose at the suggestion, and he said, "That would seem to be more Polaris' thing, you know how he loves mountain climbing. A few more years of service, then I think I'll have had enough time outside the dome for a lifetime."

"There is the abandoned outpost east of here," Iceheart mused. "That would be better to launch expeditions of whatever sort from. There is no Windigo ice in the way from there."

It was amazing how, even under what were grueling conditions in the frozen beyond, the Crystal Ponies were still able to freely banter with ease. Trixie envied that of them. They had gone through a shared hardship, and showed no signs of being forced to their knees by their continuing duty. She might have been like that, had she graduated from Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns and achieved what had been but a fleeting dream of working in a research laboratory, butting heads with others over magical theory.

No, Trixie scolded herself. She needed to continue looking forward, never backwards. That way laid a pile of disasters she needed to leave behind.

The food disappeared all too quickly. Despite the limited variety, Powder Blue and her assistant did phenomenal work with butter and spices, and Trixie found herself wanting for more. If she tried hard enough, she could almost will the illusion of the taste of cooked vegetables onto her tongue, satisfying her pangs. After quickly helping to clean up, Trixie and Noire found themselves retiring for the night back to their room.

“Whew,” Noire let out a breath as she opened the door back up to their private quarters again, walking in. “I didn’t even know you went to the Minotaur country once.”

“It was something. Seeing that yeti this morning reminded me a little bit of seeing a minotaur wrestling match once. Because they stood on their hind legs and charged at one another, that is.”

“I wonder who would win in a wrestling match between a minotaur and Iceheart,” Noire said as she closed the doors.

“Likely Iceheart,” Trixie said. “I worked with an Earth pony once who was able to crush boulders with her bare hooves. Unless the minotaur was as trained as Maud Pie was, he wouldn’t be as strong as Iceheart.”

“Well, there’s more to wrestling than raw strength,” argued Noire. “A minotaur would have superior reach, and a pony with her smaller size would have a difficult time pinning a minotaur down. She would have to deliver a decisive first blow to leave him winded, and a minotaur is going to be far smarter than a yeti is.”

The amusing argument the two had going between them was interrupted by a knock on the door. Noire looked over at Trixie, and the two exchanged a look in which neither knew who it was. Noire gave a brief shrug before going over to open the door.

The batpony was surprised as she saw who had been knocking. “Oh, Commander Iceheart,” Noire said. “What can we do for you?”

Iceheart practically glided in, looking around the room. “I wanted to make sure your accommodations were acceptable,” the purple-coated Crystal pony said. “We do not get very many visitors out here, and I endeavor to make certain every pony who does at least has a comfortable time of it.”

“Well, it’s an old castle, though that’s chronologically. I don’t know how physically old it actually is, but what I mean is that a lot of the building technology here is outdated. I don’t know how many creature comforts your ponies are allowed to have, but I would have expected there to be at least warm water. I was able to heat it up with magic, but still,” Trixie commented.

“So I have heard before,” Iceheart said, not appearing to take any offense. “We had many magical glyphs engraved into the building, but the stasis adversely affected them. When we returned, we quickly repaired and repowered the ones that were responsible for the castle’s defense. When it comes to those that are for more personal use, we repaired what was required for our reduced garrison.”

“So these rooms didn’t get fixed up?” Noire asked.

“That is correct. All the unicorns who were competent have since left. In Sombra’s Empire, we never hosted ponies before, so we never expected the occasional tourist we got. I am glad that you were at least able to get warm water, albeit through a roundabout method.”

Trixie frowned, For a commander she is being unusually talkative with us. Why is that?

It didn’t take long for her to realise it. After all, Noire had said as much directly to Iceheart the day before. The Crystal Earth pony was lonely.

She had commanded a half a thousand ponies, only for nineteen out of every twenty to leave after losing a thousand years to history. Of those who remained, they looked up to her far too much for her to confide in. In this strange new world, the only other possible home she could go to resented her.

Trixie didn’t know if Iceheart was repressing her emotions, or if her near-perfect composure was simply the way she was. What Trixie knew was that life had dealt Iceheart a sad set of circumstances.

That’s it, isn’t it? She’s a lot like me. My desire to learn magic was ended by a fluke of bad luck. I bounced back though, but…My new, simple dream of travelling and bringing joy to other ponies was crushed in that miserable little hamlet. After father’s death, for two years, I hid myself away from the world. I had friends to confide in in Whinnychester, but none who knew our family’s closest-held secret, and how that changed almost everything.

“You didn’t come here just to talk to us about our room, did you?” Trixie asked.

Iceheart bowed her head at Trixie's words. Having been found out, she said, "You didn't just come here for research on Windigos either, did you?"

"It was the main reason," Noire said. "Not specifically research but, well, my tribe is tightly-knit, and we carry many ancestral memories with us. We remember the terror of the Windigos better than others do. I decided to come out here, with Trixie's help, to see what was going on first-hoof."

"That seems more plausible. Truthfully, however, I did not come to talk about that. Rather, I was more interested in hearing some more about your travails," Iceheart said, gesturing at Trixie. "It sounds as if you have journeyed across a large swathe of the continent, if not beyond."

"I've never been off the continent, but I have been across Equestria, as well as some of the neighboring countries."

"Yes, and I notice you never truly mentioned just what it was that you did while travelling, how you supported yourself. Were you a writer, perhaps? It is difficult to follow your prose sometimes, we are a thousand years out of date after all, but you painted some vivid descriptions."

Trixie said, "Not quite, but you're close. I was a travelling showpony. In some areas, I would show off magic tricks that were well beyond the capability of any local unicorn. In other locations, I would use magic and props to re-enact plays. Sometimes, such as here, I would merely speak as a storyteller, whether of legends and myths or of what I have seen wherever I have gone. It all came down to the culture of the location, really."

"And I truly appreciate that you came here, all the same," Iceheart said. "The ponies here are tough to have stayed here as long as they have, but even though they are my friends, I would not want them to stay here one minute longer if the Empire were to ever send us new ponies."

"Even you?"

A flash of emotion passed through Iceheart's eyes, almost too quick for Trixie to see. It wasn't annoyance, but Trixie didn't have enough time to quite analyse it, and Iceheart was always a hard pony to read. She was so well-composed, even the senses of the Changeling Trixie had inherited from her father were hard-pressed to get a feel for Iceheart. Whatever it had been, it didn't make it into Iceheart's voice, her tone the same warm near-monotone as always. "When my body begins to age and I can no longer patrol the north and deflect the wild creatures, I suppose. So long as that Windigo ice remains, however, I will be here. There simply is no other pony who can tolerate this cold as well as I can."

Trixie scrunched her muzzle. Even though she's said it before, what a depressing outlook...I feel for her, isn't there anything I could do? There wasn't, really. The Crystal Ponies had told her nopony known could destroy the Windigo ice. The Princesses might be able to, but Trixie was no Princess.

Wait...wasn't there one thing?

"You know, when I was travelling, I also learned magic from other ponies and even the other races. Not all magic was compatible with unicorns, and it was all informal learning, with no real direction. I might be talented in one field, and laughable in another," Trixie said, quickly drawing attention from both Iceheart and Noire. Even though the three had already been huddled in conversation, the way Trixie was speaking implied an intense subject matter. "However, something that I truly enjoyed, something I was able to easily do, was illusions."

"Illusions?" Iceheart asked, even as Noire frowned beside her.

"Yes, illusions. At its most basic, an illusion is a deception. It's possible to create an illusion without magic, through sleight-of-hoof techniques. When it comes to magic, however, there's a field full of depth and breadth. When I put on shows, I used illusions for the sight and sound components. Most wouldn't think of something like that as an illusion, but it is."

Trixie's horn shone, and then suddenly, in the air, there appeared an Ursa Minor. Trixie could feel her heart beating, could hear the rapid pulsing of blood in her head, but a rational mind reassured the body that this was merely something she had conjured up, and wasn't real. It was only a foot long, too, nowhere near the size of the real Ursa Minor. Trixie swallowed, and she said, "Something like this, a dozen times over, and you have a play. Many rural areas don't have a theatre—er, do you know what a theatre is?"

"Originally, it was a place where actors acted out a story, typically directed by a playwright on a stage with the use of props and magic. Today, in modern lingo, it is a place where ponies gather to watch a series of pictures scrolling at fast speed from a projector to create the impression of a seamless image called a movie," Iceheart said. The face cracked, though it was an expression of uncertainty than any real emotion. "Right?"

"That's—well, that's technically true," Noire said, biting a lip. "The real experience is far different than describing it, however."

"Right, well, um, most rural places don't have a theatre, so I provide them entertainment. But each of those illusions are temporary. They only last as long as the spellcaster fuels them with magic. Some spells can be anchored to continue indefinitely so long as there is a source of power. But some spells are so strong that they're essentially permanent, unless they can be dispelled by a magician even more talented at illusions."

This time, Noire was definitely alarmed, her eyes wide and eyebrows furled, lips open even as her teeth were clenched.

"I think the Witch King did something like that once, to hide the Crystal Heart. What I am told was that he used dark magic to achieve the effect, however," Iceheart said in a questioning tone.

"What I do definitely isn't dark magic," Trixie hastened to explain, as the Ursa Minor disappeared. Given the exposure of the Crystal ponies to King Sombra, it would be unwise to talk too much about anything they might reasonably compare to his own powers, and so Trixie needed to clear that up quickly. "Dark magic leaves a taint on a pony, and I've never used dark magic." It was a truth with a hole wide enough to pull a cart through. Even if she hadn't used dark magic itself, she had definitely once and still been affected by a dark magic artifact.

Iceheart narrowed her eyes. The talk of dark magic had appeared to really shake her. There was a tantalising hint of something lurking below the surface. When her father was alive, Trixie would sometimes describe to him her feelings of the emotions of others in colours, but this was a drab grey, lacking any identifying features. Still, Trixie could all too easily read the 'Go on' in the expression.

So she did. "Illusions, specifically magical illusions, isn't really a field that gets much attention by unicorns, or other races. It's a finicky thing to use beyond what I just did there with the Ursa Minor, which is why I doubt what Sombra used was even an illusion, but likely something else like a suggestion spell to influence ponies to not looking to deep into where ever his hidden passage was. I assume that's what it was anyways, since you said he hid the Heart away. Only those who delve deep into the field and get experience with it can truly move beyond the basics. I did so many plays and tinkered so much I was even able to get a coveted slot at the Greatest Outdoor Show in Equestria."

"I see. That sounds impressive, at least," Iceheart said. "If you stay much longer, perhaps you can do a full show for my ponies. I am certain we can clear out a space large enough for you to perform if you require it."

"That's a possibility," Trixie said. "But, well, for so long, I never really stepped out of my comfort zone. I specialised in my illusions, but I lacked the desire, the ambition to delve deeper. Until recently," she said, and swallowed, nervousness causing pinpricks of sensation on her forehead. "Recently, I was one of the very few who have been able to create a permanent illusion. I changed how something looks permanently. The only way anypony could tell otherwise is if he or she suspected there was an illusion, and was also powerful enough to dispel it. Maybe the Princesses could do it, but I don't know of anypony else powerful enough to do such a thing today." Trixie had, after all, used the power of the black moon to anchor Noire's new form.

"Trixie," Noire said, deathly calm. Trixie, however, could feel the damp-like fear lurking under the surface. Noire's eyes were narrowed, looking almost like the slit eyes some ponies for some reason thought bat ponies had. "Just what are you talking about?"

"Yes, I am curious, myself," Iceheart added. "While what you describe sounds intriguing, I am uncertain what relevance this has, given we were originally talking about the north."

"It took me quite some time, but the pieces are finally beginning to click together in my head," Trixie said. "I read a book recently that provided the final spark, but I know how to extend the power of illusions even further. An illusion is something meant to deceive somepony else, but even if nobody is still looking, it's still active. One could almost say that an illusion is attempting to trick reality."

Noire frowned. She was still angry, but now she too was curious about what Trixie was trying to say. "But an illusion only fools the senses, right? If you cast an illusion to hide an object, the thing is still there. If it's really good, you might be able to make a pony think something isn't there even if she can feel it, but that's it. If you create the illusion of a door over a wall, then a pony is still going to walk into a wall when she attempts to go through the door."

"And you would be correct. But what if an illusion could go beyond even that?" Trixie asked, looking over at Iceheart to see if the Crystal pony was following. To the commander's credit, Iceheart's eyes weren't glazed over like other ponies did when Trixie attempted to discuss magical theory with them, and she was nodding along with their conversation. "What if an illusion was so intricate, and so powerful that instead of merely creating the impression of your eponymous door in the wall, there actually was a door in the wall? An illusion so great that it actually does fool the world itself. No, more than even that, it wouldn't so much fool the world as basically make it believe there always was a door there. 'This is the way things were and always have been therefore this is the way things are', so to speak."

"That sounds less like illusions and more like...well, I'm not a unicorn, so I never had a reason to study magic in-depth outside of what the Windigos used and cold tolerance, but that certainly does not sound like an illusion," Iceheart said. "Well, it does sound genuinely interesting. But once more, what does that have to do with your being here?"

"I'm getting to that," Trixie said. Walking over to a small table, she found what she was looking for. "Say, what is the temperature in here?"

"Almost all rooms in the castle that are in use are set to around 530 degrees Flankine, with magical controls keeping it close to that level. This room doesn't have the magical control, so it should be slightly cooler. It seems to be rather warm in here, however. Did you keep the fireplace in here running earlier?" Iceheart asked.

Trixie walked over, hoofing Iceheart what she had found: a thermostat, measured out in an ancient temperature system that had gone defunct hundreds of years ago. The scale was reading over 560 degrees Flankine. "The reading on that gauge is no illusion. Or rather, it is an illusion, but it's not one on the thermostat. To do that, I'd have to cast a visual illusion over the thermostat, then use another spell to convince everypony through their tactile senses that it's getting warmer. Instead, I am convincing the world itself that the temperature in this world is 560 degrees Flankine, and the world is corroborating my illusion."

"This seems all to easy to deduce," Iceheart said. "You are using a heating spell."

Trixie shook her head, and she said, "Not a heating spell. Let me see...here," Trixie said, picking up a small snow globe off another table, presumably left here by a past tourist. With little fanfare, she set the globe on the floor. Trixie's horn glowed a pale violet, and the same colour of violet briefly enveloped the snow globe. "Here, try picking this up."

Iceheart frowned, "I don't see what purpose..." Iceheart trailed off, gripping the snow globe with a hoof, and then picking it up. Or at least, she attempted to. "What the..." Sitting down on her haunches, Iceheart used both front hooves to get a better feel for the globe, only to fail once more. Looking up at Trixie, she said, "It's not attached the floor. What is going on here, exactly?" Iceheart had her brows furled, in the first clear look of frustration Trixie had ever seen on the Crystal Earth pony. Iceheart's confusion flickered around the edges of Trixie's senses.

"Right now, that snow globe weighs several hundred kilograms. I have fooled the world into believing that that is the amount it must weigh," Trixie said. "If you don't mind me chipping the floor in here a little bit..." Casting magic again, she lifted up the snow globe. Then she stopped her magic from holding it in the air.

BAM!

"Commander, are you alright?!" Aurora asked, in the room within moments. She had been quick on her hooves, going from her guard position outside the room to opening the door and getting inside.

"I-yes, I'm alright," Iceheart said, not removing her eyes from in front of her.

The snow globe had shattered once it fell, a small amount of water and glass sprayed around the floor. What was more important to Iceheart was the solid chip of rock that had been scored off with the snow globe's impact.

"Trixie here was just giving me a demonstration of something magic. That is all. I apologise Aurora, I should have thought to inform you beforehoof so that you would not be alarmed."

Aurora took a deep breath in. A lifetime of developing observation skills allowed Trixie to tell that the other mare was deep into her fight-or-flight response: quick, rapid breaths, diluted pupils and twitchy muscles. Internally, Aurora was a chaotic whirlwind of emotions, panic, fear, excitement and surprise in her own unique mixture. To Aurora's credit, she had been nevertheless composed, and her frame became steady with calm breathing. "Very well, commander," the green-furred pegasus said as she retreated out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

Iceheart watched her leave, before turning around. Taking a brief glance at the water and glass over the floor, Iceheart looked back up at Trixie and said, "I do not know how difficult it would be, but it would seem to me magic to manipulate the mass, or perhaps the gravity exerted on an object would exist. But I do not believe you are trying to lie to me either, so what was the point of showing this to me?"

Trixie felt her throat run dry. It was now or never. She had already revealed her ability to Iceheart, now she would have to put herself out there. "I think, theoretically, I might be able to do something about the Windigo ice using my magic."

Iceheart attempted to reply, only to stop right before she could speak her first word. Her mouth hang open slightly, eyes as impassive as ever. Seconds passed, before finally Iceheart said, "Oh, was that all?"

Was that all? Trixie wanted to say most magicians would have been stunned if they even understood the ramifications of what she had done, but she was cut off as Iceheart laughed for the first time Trixie and Noire had been in her presence.

It wasn't a nice laugh. It was short, to-the-point, and bitter. It was so full of hurt that Trixie's heart nearly broke just listening to it, and it was coupled with a torrent of rage that had broken over the dam surrounding Iceheart's heart. "Who put you up to this?" Iceheart asked, her voice growing as cold as her as the barren outdoors. "Somepony thought it would be funny to send a pony to get my hopes up even for a second? Was it Frostbite? Or maybe it was that accursed Snow Sigil? Did they put this idea into your head, or did you know about their intentions and went along with the whole thing?!" Iceheart's voice grew louder and louder, until she was almost hollering, and Trixie was surprised Aurora hadn't come running back in yet.

"I-it wasn't somepony else's idea!" Trixie said hastily. Trixie was surprised. She thought she was good at standing up against others, but here she was, intimated by a seething Crystal pony. "I really mean it! I can really change how objects are supposed to be with illusions! That's why I think I can maybe destroy the ice!"

"Really? Really?!" Iceheart asked mockingly. Her jaw was clenched, the sinews of her neck visibly bulging. "I have tolerated those ponies in the Empire because they directly suffered under Sombra's rule. I accepted their resentment, but I did not realise they were so immature as to constantly harass me even from afar, and nearly banish me in all but name." The Crystal Earth pony had fully lost her composure, pacing back and forth across the floor, unminding of the water and shattered glass, occasionally swiping at the air with a hoof. "Perhaps they should come up here and see how they like exposure to the Windigo Ice. I highly doubt most of them would last five minutes vis-a-vis with a Windigo itself."

Bringing her hoof up to tug a lock of her white mane, Iceheart made to rant again, only to pause, jaw once more left hanging open. She quickly snapped it shut, and with a single breath, Iceheart's composure was restored, albeit with fissures and cracks not unlike the ice she was named after. Trixie could still feel Iceheart's anger, but now it was condensed, wound up again, perhaps waiting years before it could uncoil again in the heat of a moment. "I apologise that you had to see that. You aren't from the Empire, and it would be unlike them to recruit a foreigner into their schemes. Regardless, you said something about getting rid of the Windigo ice." Iceheart narrowed her eyes, as suspicious as any pony had a right to be under the circumstances given Trixie's claim to being able to perform a miracle, and she said, "I find that incredibly dubious. Even if what you say about your magic is true, I doubt it would work on an object the scale of the Windigo ice. Remember that the ice is also resistant to magic, so that is assuming you can even affect it in the first place with a spell."

Not just her throat, now Trixie's tongue was dry too. It was as if she had been chewing sand: all the moisture in her mouth had disappeared, and she found herself unable to speak. She was at an impasse, having foolishly revealed a new talent that even Noire had known little of, and squandering her goodwill with her host, all to achieve something Trixie was unsure she could even pull off. Why had she even spoken up about this?

Trixie looked around, fidgeting in place, trying to look anywhere other than Iceheart's face. It was of no use: Noire, the only other pony in the room, was also frowning. She wasn't happy either.

Wait. Maybe that was it. Forgive me, Noire, Trixie thought to herself. I hate to do this, but this might be the only way to convince Iceheart otherwise. Was she a foolish pony who still hadn't learned her lesson to be doubling down like this? Perhaps those above could tell her, but Trixie only had her own wits coupled with the empathy she had honed over a lifetime of being able to sense emotions without requiring them for sustenance. There was a chance she could help this pony and the entire garrison stationed here, and Trixie would forever feel guilty if she backed down now. Her conscience would haunt her with the question 'Could I have done something?' Trixie didn't want that, and questions of selfishness and selflessness be damned.

"This may sound a little bit of an odd question, but have you ever heard of the Changelings?"

Iceheart didn't frown, but she did cock her head as she said, "Of course. A strange subclass of equines with vaguely beetle-like features, capable of perfectly taking the shape of a pony, and feeding off the emotions of others. They were around before the stasis in small numbers, though Sombra executed any he found within the kingdom. It seems they hid away from the world at large shortly after we disappeared, and emerged for an invasion of Canterlot right before we reappeared."

Trixie stood up high, no longer slouching. Locking her gaze with Iceheart's blue eyes, she said, "Not every Changeling belongs to the hive that invaded Canterlot. A small number of Changelings married ponies over the year. I should know. My father was a Changeling and my mother was a pony."

Noire had by this time backed up slightly, head darting back and forth. Trixie flashed her a brief glance meant to be reassuring, before turning back to Iceheart. The commander was visibly surprised, as she said, "The child of a Changeling and a pony? I have heard of them, though they were rare. They were as anathema to the King as Changelings themselves were, and those who fled the Empire before the stasis would have died long ago."

Trixie breathed, relieved. She had gambled on Iceheart being mostly agnostic about Changelings, given her background as a Crystal pony, who had not reappeared until after the failed wedding in Canterlot, and adjusting to this strange new world. Now to press forward. "Yes, and I am one of them. I cannot transform like a Changeling has, not even close. But I was fascinated with my father's ability to transform. It isn't a simple illusion, either. Changelings actually change wholesale, their entire physical form morphs to imitate a pony or other species. But father said it is in fact an illusion, albeit an advanced one, but also one he does automatically without thinking. He never even thought to attempt to reverse-engineer, and I never thought to ask him before he died. But it's thanks to him I even was interested in illusions, and it might be because he was a Changeling that I even inherited some talent."

"Hmmm," Iceheart said, lowering her head until it almost touched the floor. The Crystal Earth pony was oddly retrospective, standing silent for a few minutes, before she at last brought her head back up and said, "You really think you might actually be able to do something to that Windigo ice?"

"Think," Trixie stressed, not wanting to oversell herself now that she seemed to have gotten Iceheart's ear. "I don't know for a fact. I could easily get rid of regular ice, but I don't know about magical ice." That, and no matter what she tried, using the spell on an animate thing such as an insect always fizzled out. Was there something about living creatures that resisted a change in reality?

"Very well. Get a good night's sleep. We will leave in the morning."

Trixie's head jerked in surprise, looking back up at Iceheart. "Pardon?"

"You wanted to go see the Windigo ice closer up. I will take you there, and Noire as well if she desires. The snowstorm should be tame tomorrow, so that is the best time to go. Unless you believe you need another day to prepare before heading out?"

Just like that? Trixie thought. A brief thought flitted through her mind, that Iceheart intended to take them out there to kill Trixie and perhaps Noire, but nothing she felt from the other pony hinted at deception. Granted, Trixie was no Changeling, and her senses were muted in comparison to her father's, but they hadn't failed her yet.

"No, I don't need another day. If I can't do it tomorrow, an extra day's practice is unlikely to help me the next day."

Iceheart regarded Trixie coolly. Finally, she said, "In that event, I hope you succeed. I would love to be rid of that accursed ice." With that, Iceheart turned around, pushing the door open, and trotting out. As she closed the door, Trixie could hear Iceheart and Aurora talking, though their words were muffled.

Trixie was immediately spun around, Noire having accosted her to do so. "What. Was. That?" Noire hissed. Trixie was nearly overwhelmed by a complex swirl of emotions emanating from Noire that she could only describe as a powerful feeling of being betrayed.

"She's a kindred soul, Noire," Trixie said. "She's spent so much time already here. Ponies don't think there's much of value in holding a fortress this far north when there's nothing but snow around. Even some of the ponies here think the same, but Iceheart doesn't care. She's determined to stay here until she dies so long as the ice is a potential threat."

"That's still not what I was talking about!" Noire said, thumping Trixie's chest with a hoof every few syllables. The batpony was visibly agitated, with her wings buzzing fast enough to generate a high pitch noise. "I was talking about your fool decision to talk about my appearance and our heritage!"

Trixie had figured as much. Keeping her voice calm and level so as to not agitate Noire any further, Trixie said, "I only mentioned that I had created a permanent illusion, not on who I had cast it. I didn't even say that it was a who I cast it on, it's far more likely to infer what I cast it on. The same for our heritage: I only said that I was the daughter of a Changeling. I never mentioned anything about you."

"She'll be suspicious anyways," Noire argued. "She'll wonder if I knew about you, and then she'll wonder about me, and from there it's not too much to put two and two together and think my dad was a Changeling too which, oh right, he was."

"If we fail, she'll still be here, at the castle. She seems unlikely to tell anypony else given her detachment from the world and not being around for the Changeling invasion. I doubt the ponies here are on orders to report any potential Changelings. If we succeed, Iceheart might leave, but she'll be too grateful to report us, especially since again, we're not even actual Changelings."

"Not if we succeed, if you succeed," Noire said, gritting her teeth together. Her body was tense. Noire closed her eyes. After a few seconds, she exhaled. Noire's entire body trembled with the deep breath out, as she relaxed her rigid pose. Opening her eyes, Noire said, "You think you actually have a chance, then? You can actually physically alter objects, not through transformation spells, but by convincing reality that an illusion isn't an illusion, that it's actually real? Really?"

"I know it sounds like bunk," Trixie admitted. "But no, it's actually real. Even before you came to Whinnychester, I already had an inkling that illusions might actually able to change reality itself. When I was able to permanently anchor the spell on you, my suspicions were confirmed: your actual Cutie Mark changed, something that merely changing your looks wouldn't have been able to. I toyed with it, and made a breakthrough shortly before we left as I was able to change a small wooden cube I had sitting around. I wasn't entirely honest a few days ago about that book I found, the one written by Blackbeak: his words on reality being a shared illusion might actually have some truth to them."

Noire brought a hoof up to her forehead, pressing it hard to stave off an incoming migraine. She had to think about this.

It wasn't really much of a decision. Setting her hoof back down, Noire said, "I'm coming with you tomorrow."

Trixie was relieved at that. "I was hoping you might, and worried you wouldn't. Thank you," she said, bringing her own limb up to give Noire a hug.

"Don't thank me just yet," Noire groused. "Actually pull this off tomorrow. You said you didn't want to talk to her until you found something to better yourself at. Succeed, and then we will have something good to report when we head south."

There was a marked hustle and bustle to the castle that Trixie and Noire hadn't seen in their first two days there. Ponies were running around in a frenzy. Even though Iceheart had made the offer only the night before, things had progressed quickly, a testament to the military precision of the Crystal ponies.

"Any time somepony goes out close to the Windigo Ice, the rest of us have to prepare," Powder Blue explained over their quick breakfast. "We'll double our watch on the north side to keep an eye out on the ice and trade signals with magical flares between the tower and the pony heading out to communicate ongoing weather conditions. In the event the expedition party runs into trouble, a quick response team will move out to rescue the party." Powder Blue paused, then she added, "Of course, given it's the commander who is taking you out there, I doubt we will be required. All the same, it is thanks to her drills and plans that we not yet lost a single pony."

The Crystal ponies had found new outfits for Trixie and Noire that were of better quality than the ones they had worn to the fort. Unlike what they wore before, this time the two ponies were fully outfitted, with clothes that covered every bit of their body, including tail-wraps and snowboots for their hooves. Masks covered their heads, with tinted goggles rounding it off for eye protection. In Trixie's case, a small hole was made for her horn to fit through, the horn of a unicorn being a poor conductor of heat and magic being too useful to block off physical spells. Other than that, only their mouths were left uncovered, so that the three could talk to one another when leaving.

Even Iceheart was wearing something when they first saw her, a great indicator of how treacherous the route leading up to the ice could be.

The day had yet to break. Visibility was slowly beginning to improve as the twilight hours were washed away, but Iceheart had decided to leave early so there was plenty of daylight left in the event something bad occurred. Trixie had promised to use her magic to light the way for the first bit until they had enough natural light.

"This is your last chance to back out," Iceheart said to Trixie as the three ponies stood at the castle's north entrance, having just gone over a final inventory check with Noire. "Nopony will think less of you here, and if you are certain that you cannot pull this off, it will be better not to waste time and effort going out."

"I said it was possible, and I still think it. Let's go," Trixie said.

In truth, Trixie felt her heart fluttering nervously. Even as she said those words, uncertainty gnawed away at her resolve. The idea that a mere illusion could change things on a physical level permanently instead of merely altering one's perception of the surface was ludicrous. Trixie had claimed she had done it. Her feelings had been backed up when she had changed the physical shape of an object, and felt it with her hooves to verify its dimensions had changed, from a square to a pentagon. No illusion that merely fooled the eyes would also fool the sense of touch. But was it something that Trixie had truly done, or was she merely pulling off a trick of a different scale, one where she deceived herself? And even if Trixie was right, and she had gone beyond what any esteemed illusionist before her had, would it be possible to perform her magic on something like Windigo ice?

But boldness had thus far taken Trixie away from Whinnychester to the Crystal Empire, and then beyond, into the frozen north. Trixie would not, could not shy away now.

"Very well," was Iceheart's response.

At last it was just light enough out that Iceheart judged that they could leave, and so Noire, Trixie and Iceheart ventured outdoors.

Iceheart lead the way, as she was the most familiar with the territory, giving terse remarks every so often to watch their step. The commander was graceful and patient, waiting for Trixie and Noire to catch up, since they were slower and awkward with their snowboots. The small, rolling hills the trio encountered quickly gave way to the more level ground that gave name to the ice flats.

Trixie found the tinted goggles a blessing she never knew she needed, having squinted most of the time on her way from the Crystal Empire to the fort. Fortunately, the cloud cover broke as the morning sun rose, so there was always a blue sky to look up to instead of a dreary white.

It didn't take long for her to feel the effects of the Windigo Ice. As she marched behind Iceheart, providing light from the rear, Trixie could feel the temperature beginning to drop, and the wind speed slowly picking up. At first, it was subtle: it was easier to tell they were getting closer by the larger and larger piles of snow deposited by the intense snowstorms that occurred around the Ice. Soon, however, Trixie found herself shivering even through the extra-thick layer of clothing she wore.

At last, Iceheart called a stop, for which Trixie was glad. Briefly taking a look back, Trixie saw the red castle in the distance, a shining beacon against the world of white. That's how far we got?! She thought to herself, astonished. Trixie and Noire had covered a far greater distance from the Crystal Empire to the fortress in a little over half a day. By contrast, the three had barely moved from the castle, and Trixie was still able to pick out individual features in the structure.

Now that they had treaded ground and gotten away from the castle, Trixie was able to see the outline of the Ice in greater detail, perhaps five thousand hoof-lengths away. She had expected it to be a large, glacier-sized block of ice, but the reality was far more subdued: it appeared to be no greater than the size of a few houses put together. Such a block of ice in the middle of the Crystal Empire would have supposedly destroyed the city upon its return.

Trixie swallowed. Somehow its smaller size just made the ice more intimidating.

"We won't be able to get much closer than this. The snowstorm is tame today, but if it worsens I do not wish to be caught too close to the fossils," Iceheart said. "Please use your heating spells now. Both of you."

Noire just about jumped, her eyes visibly wide even under her tinted goggles, "What are you talking about? I can't use magic like a unicorn can."

Iceheart wrinkled her nose, before saying, "So you mean to tell me you never learned a heating spell, or that you're not part-Changeling like your friend is?"

The living wind howled.

"That's...I'm not," Noire said. Even as she said those simple three words, Noire cursed herself. She had fumbled her secret even as she attempted to deny it, having been caught off-guard by Iceheart.

Iceheart looked out at the Windigo ice, before turning her head back to face Noire, and she said, "I don't care about your reasons for hiding it, Noire. I was given a single duty, to protect against the Windigos, and now that they're gone, the fossils they've left behind and the remains of the bitter north. Besides, don't normal Changelings dislike the cold, anyways?"

Noire thought about holding her tongue, but then she relented. Her secret was out, but somehow she felt more kinship with this strange Crystal Pony, in self-exile from the rest of her people, than with any other pony she had ever met besides Trixie. Perhaps Noire truly sympathised with Iceheart, after seeing her heart and emotions opened up the night before. Noire decided to take the plunge, and she said, "Not especially. The Windigos were an ancestral enemy of the Changelings, more than they were for ponies. They disappeared long before I was born, but my father told me the entire Changeling race released a breath of relief as one when the Windigos disappeared." As an afterthought, Noire added, "I can do a heating spell as well, don't worry. You won't see anything, though. I am not a unicorn, and so my magic does not glow."

With a sigh, Noire wrinkled her nose, and summoned the small amount of magic she reserved for spells.

At once, Trixie could feel the cold being chased away from her body. With heat came the sensation of body parts that had become numb, as she suddenly felt colder again, before finally the heat seeped through her coat and under her skin.

"How convenient. I wish I could be able to do that," Iceheart said at last. Looking over to Trixie, she continued, "There were a few Changelings in the Empire who went out openly before Sombra took over. Some of them were labourers, but others were artisans. What did your fathers do? That is, I am assuming it was Noire's father and not her mother who was the Changeling."

The question was like a punch to the gut for Trixie. Even though she thought of her father many times, actually remembering him and her mother and what they had achieved in their lives was something else altogether. Memories washed ashore in a great tidal wave, sweeping away the barriers she had put up.

"Father, yes father, works with clockworks. He enjoys taking things apart, and figuring out how they tick."

The terse reply from Noire surprised Trixie, as well as the present tense she used, making it seem like Cognito was still alive. Well, she supposed Noire still wanted to keep some part of her background secret.

Taking a breath, Trixie said, "My own father was a craftsman. He primarily did woodwork, building and repairing anything from wheels to whole houses, and sometimes metal work. He was really fond, however, of chiseling. He would do custom doors, custom signs, custom gates, especially for a pony's Cutie Mark paraphernalia."

"I see. Even today, Changeling civilians are little different from pony civilians."

"They are both equines, after all," Noire said.

Iceheart nodded her head in assent, and said, "That is true. That should be sufficient heat. Come now, let us be off again."

The piles of snow quickly disappeared as Iceheart lead Trixie and Noire closer. Instead, the terrain became a rough, bumpy mix of compacted snow and ice. Fortunately, with the uneven path came a reduced albedo, and Trixie found her eyes being able to relax more behind her tinted glasses.

At last, trudging up one final hill, Iceheart stopped their journey. "This is as far as we go," Iceheart said, looking up at the sky. "A little over two hours, we have plenty of time to return. I could go closer by myself, but I am not leaving the two of you out here alone. Whatever you think you can do, Trixie, you shall do it here and not a hoof-step further."

"Thank you," Trixie said, as she paced around, getting a closer view of the Windigo ice through the snow blowing around it. It really was unremarkable. Had she not been told what it was, Trixie would have assumed the block of ice was perhaps a large glacier, or maybe a geographical feature jutting out of the landscape with ice and snow covering it, obscuring the hill underneath. "That is it?" She asked.

"Yes," Iceheart said. "You have several hours if you need it, barring another yeti, but be certain to stay warm."

Trixie nodded in acknowledgement, exaggerating the motion to make sure the motion was understood through the layered clothing she wore.

She raised her head, pointing her horn towards the ice, and Trixie casted.

Two nights had passed since the black moon, and the calendar had refreshed, passing over into the next month. Though there was still only a sliver, Trixie could peer out the window and spot the moon, its meager light shining over Whinnychester's many windmills off in the distance.

Trixie sighed, and sat down on her haunches. Noire had already gone to sleep, having worked a long day labouring through a backlog of mechanical maintenance before they left Whinnychester in a few days' time. As it was still winter, soon to be spring, there had been little for Trixie to do but to read, study, and clean up the house left to her by her parents. She had already made arrangements with Straw Thatcher, a village mare, to take care of the house and possibly rent it out in the future, but Trixie knew she needed to get it updated on her own before she left.

That had been the day, however. Nightfall was for relaxing, and for unwinding. Trixie had already been out for a walk. The outdoors was warm that night, as winter was turning into spring, and it was all too easy to be lazy and sit on a bench, letting a warm breeze wash over her face.

It was while she had sat on the bench, eyes closed and the nearby street lamp insufficient to pierce her eyelids, that Trixie had thought.

What she had done only two nights before had been amazing, even if she had used the power of the black moon to perform it. She had changed New Moon, no, Noire's appearance and made it permanent. It could be dispelled, but it would have to be by somebody even more talented than Trixie was, and they would have to realise there was an illusion there to remove in the first place.

Trixie didn't like to brag, but years of performance shows had given her a lot of practice with illusions.

But there was something more to it still, something that she couldn't quite express. Noire's Cutie Mark...somehow, it had changed. That had been the power of the black moon, Trixie was certain of it. And yet, the magic should not have jumped the parameters of the spell and ritual circle Trixie had designed. So how had it happened?

Perhaps there was something more to illusions than she thought? Trixie always thought illusions were merely about fooling the senses in some way, whether through little things like creating displays for her show with magical fireworks, and the extreme end of that being what she had just done with Noire. But maybe she merely had to push and push and break through what was in fact merely a limit and not the hard ceiling of what the field of magic could do. Who would have thought that such a silly concept as friendship could result in apotheosis, after all?

Back in her household, Trixie held up a small wood chip to the window, letting the tiny bit of moonlight reveal it in her hoof. With a bit of tinkering, Trixie could make this woodchip appear darker, or make it seem like it was metal. Though it would require more complicated magic in layered spells, she could make it feel like it was a hundred degrees hotter than it actually was, or that it made a chime like a bell when dropped on the floor. What would be impossible through illusion magic alone would be to change the actual shape of it. Even if she disguised it as a marble, a pony would still be able to feel the edges and contours of the wood chip. There was no way around that without delving into another field of magic.

Or was there?

Trixie turned the wood chip over in her hoof. Perhaps it was in fact possible to fool even a pony's sense of touch with the shape of an object. It had to be complete, however: if somepony were to get a wooden sliver from this wood chip when messing with it, the illusion would be broken. So somehow, it had to not just be the pony, but also the object that was being tricked.

She paused. Her mind was beginning to hurt. This was beginning to verge on some of the 'nature of things' that she had studied up on over the years. Had Trixie been able to stay in school, she might have been able to hear about it from professors, who would have been able to explain it better than the books had.

But Trixie had an inkling she was onto something. Magic was a deep, wide field that extended every which way. A pony could never hope to learn all of what magic had to offer, even if she lived to be as old as the Princesses did. Illusionary magic had fascinated Trixie since she was young, even though most of what she had learned had been self-taught. If she was to ever get serious and commit to studying and exploring magic full-time, she knew precisely what she would specialise in. New magic was always accompanied by prestige, even as it shook up the institutions and forced through change based on new understandings.

"Change, huh?" Trixie mused aloud. "I think I know something about that. How's about this..." She trailed off, her horn glowing softly. Using her innate understanding of how a Changeling physically transformed, she bathed the wood chip in its magic. Let's see what this would do.

She gasped, dropping the object to the floor. It made a loud tap.

In the place of a wood chip was a small toy marble. As it had landed, the marble rolled over until it stopped against a wall. There was no way it could have been a wood chip anymore, or else it would not have rolled on impact.

Magic was...it was always hard to explain, extending something that wasn't quite the sensation of touch outwards to get a feel for one's surroundings. To Trixie, the soft glance of her magic flowing out of her horn to manipulate things at a distance was rather like a gas, yet not. She would struggle to describe horn-cast magic to a non-unicorn if asked. It just was.

She poked at the Windigo ice, and recoiled. Not one, not two, but three full-body shivers passed through her, leaving her almost paralysed. This was what she had bragged about possibly being able to destroy? This abomination against friendship and harmony left behind by the Windigos, able to induce fear in her even as a fossil? What had Trixie been thinking?

Trixie grimaced. No, she couldn't give up, not after coming so far. The fossils might feel hostile, but the Windigos who had given form to the magic within had been dead for at least several hundred years. There was no sentience left to guide the Ice's inherent power.

She tried again. Slowly, Trixie lost focus of her physical sight, eyes peering into the snow right in front of her tinted pink from the glow of her horn. Instead, she Saw the inner workings of the Windigo ice. Instead of being a solid whole, there were many small cracks and crevices, with tiny holes and tunnels snaking through the ice block, creating something which rather resembled an ant's hive. Unbidden, she traced one of the contours into the depths of the ice, following the intricate patterns that had formed. The ice appeared to have a half-life, disappearing bit by bit at a time, though it would take many more mortal lifetimes before it disappeared.

Gritting her teeth, Trixie changed the scope of her magic field, using it to attempt to heat the ice. Instead of what would happen with regular ice, the magic bounced right back at her, creating a tingle in her horn. That was unusual. There was such a thing as anti-magic metal capable of producing a similar feeling, but it was very rare. The only specimen Trixie had ever seen of the metal was during her brief attendance at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns in Canterlot. Somehow, the Windigo ice produced the same effect.

Just how had her ancestors survived the Windigos? The Hearth's Warming Eve tale was now beginning to look like a thoroughly sanitised version of whatever had really happened.

Trixie fumbled her way through, trying to find a way to manipulate magic against the Windigo ice, instead of using it to merely passively explore the inner makeup of the ice. She fidgeted, grasped, and threaded her magic every which way, attempting to find some way to make her magic work on the ice. But at last she had to admit the truth, both to herself and out loud to the others.

"I can't do this," Trixie said. "I try, and my magic just slips off the ice."

Nearby, Noire could be heard sucking in a breath of cold air.

"That is what I had expected. Many other unicorns, strong ones, ones with eccentric talents, ones who had studied the ice for years all failed. It was always worth a try, and I needed to scout out close to the ice this week anyways," Iceheart said, before she regarded the ice with a sideways look. "Other modern ponies have said the fossils are 'majestic'. Would you agree?"

"It does have a, erm, remarkable aesthetic to it," said Noire. "It looks like one solid mass. It sits in the middle of the ice flats, with nothing around it. I guess it looks a lot prettier when the sun strikes it just right, maybe around midday. But, well..." Noire trailed off.

"But it is something that is capable of causing untold catastrophe, even in its dormant state," Iceheart finished for Noire. "Of course, it's just ice. It's incapable of moving itself. This ice will not threaten the Empire. When the Windigos return, this won't be even that useful to them, except as a stronghold where ponies cannot approach. I have thought about it sometimes, if there is a point to staying at the fort. There are no Windigos to fight anymore, and it is unlikely they will reappear in my lifetime."

"You seem oddly introspective. Why are you confiding in us?," Trixie asked.

"I suppose your stories about your travels through Equestria and beyond have given me cause to think about my own life," Iceheart confessed. "I am not very good at expressing myself, and I have never needed to be. Only being able to command was a necessary quality. Maybe, one day, I would like to leave. The ponies in the Empire do not like me, so I would head south and explore this strange new world we Crystal Ponies have found ourselves placed in. But until I find somepony who can tolerate the cold and get close to the ice as well as I, that will not be an option. Come, let us leave before the snowstorm sets in again."

Iceheart started walking, and Trixie and Noire fell in behind her. Trixie, however, felt the conversation was unfinished, and she asked, "But you think there is somepony already who can command well enough, if not as good at resisting the weather as you are?"

The Crystal Earth pony continued walking, seemingly determined to get away from the fossilised ice as soon as possible. Despite her disdain for non-essential chatter while on their expedition to the ice, Iceheart was less cautious when going away from it, as she said, "Yes. Diamond Dust could easily take over if I decided to take a lesser role as a mere patrol, and if I were to die on the post, everypony knows they are to defer to him. Snowpeak is potentially also capable."

"That's..." Trixie struggled not to find the word to say, but to actually speak it out loud. Sad, she instead thought to herself. Barring her outburst last night, Iceheart seemed to have little will to live for herself. Even her interest in leaving the fort was predicated on an impossible feat. One which Trixie had failed to resolve.

Why was she beating herself up so much over this? As Iceheart had said, many had tried before her, and all had failed, with the exception of using the Crystal Heart. Trixie supposed she was disappointed because after riding the euphoric high of discovering what was potentially new magic, she had all too quickly found something that her magic was incapable of solving. Trixie knew she had to stop thinking about this too hard, lest she wallow in despair in those dark days before she put on the Alicorn Amulet.

Taking a deep breath, Trixie relaxed herself, purging her mind of conscious thoughts. It wasn't the safest thing to walk in the arctic wastes on autopilot, but she trusted Noire behind her and Iceheart in front of her could cover in the event Trixie had a mishaps.

Iceheart made a good pace, trotting a little bit quicker than she had led the other two to the ice. That the flats trended slightly downhill towards the castle helped, as well as the sun overhead reaching its zenith, slightly warming the air even as they got further away from the ice.

At least, Iceheart stopped upon a small hill, and surveyed the shining red castle below. "This is what true beauty is to me," Iceheart said, and Noire and Trixie listened. "The Crystal Heart tamed a part of the north so that we Crystal Ponies could live, survive, even thrive in the face of the Windigos. This castle may not fall under the Crystal Heart's protections, but we made it work. In the end, thanks to the stasis, we outlasted them. Look, you can even see the Crystal Palace from here."

Trixie followed Iceheart's hoof, looking past the castle and off into the distance. Though low-hanging clouds and localised drifts of snow kicked up by wind obscured the view, she could still make out the large, crystal structure that was the Empire's centrepiece. The sun shone on the Palace just right to make it gleam even from afar.

The Palace where the Crystal Heart was.

It was a feeling, something that the rationalist in Trixie screamed at her to ignore, gut feelings were nothing more than an aberration. The optimist in her decided to indulge it.

"Wait, please."

Dimly, she was aware of the background noise, the words of other ponies. Her attention was elsewhere, however.

Even at this great a distance, she was Aware of the Crystal Heart. It had seemed to be a benign object when Noire and herself had visited it to take a look, but there really was more to it than that. The Crystal Heart was alive, much like the Alicorn Amulet was.

That scared her. The Amulet was insidious, making her every move and thought seem so logical, as if she had thought of it herself. Perhaps she had thought of them by herself, and she was shifting blame onto the Amulet. Regardless, she had little desire to hoof control over to a quasi-sentient magical artifact again.

Yet the Crystal Heart was different. In the past, countless ponies before her had used it as a force of destruction, yes, but towards the end goal of destroying something that threatened their livelihood, even as the Crystal Heart gave them an environment-controlled habitat to live within.

The Crystal Heart greeted her, reading her intentions all too easily. It wanted to help her.

She swallowed. She had been given that same spiel, once before.

No, it said. It would not give her its own power. It would merely open the path, and make the Ice briefly vulnerable.

How could she trust it?

Sometimes, trust is a matter of faith.

She didn't know.

But it had been so long since she had been able to freely exert herself and truly show off. Would it be so bad to have one last hurrah?

She turned around.

"Noire," Trixie said. "Whatever you feel, don't panic."

Noire had other plans. Every time she had heard a pony use those words before, it had been followed by a fool action taken on a leap of faith. This far north, where exposure to cold could kill in minutes if not properly dressed, the stakes were increased.

"Trixie, you fool, what are you do—" Noire stopped herself, as she felt what Trixie had planned.

Power washed over Noire, the burst of magic radiating from Trixie's horn glowing so strong that it was nearly a blinding sun unto itself, a pink corona that chase away the world of white. There was more magic than any unicorn could possibly hope to output at a sustained rate.

She's using her pool of magic from emotions, Noire quickly realised. When Noire had tapped into her own pool, it had always been a brief thing. Pegasus and pegasus batponies were only supposed to be able to manipulate magic through their wings, and she had little desire to invite scrutiny onto herself by accidentally using magic from elsewhere. Noire had resolved she would only use a substantial amount of magic in an emergency, an occasion that had never come to pass.

If the amount of magic Trixie held within her lithe frame was around the same as what Noire could hold, then the unicorn would soon run dry.

Trixie's eyes opened.

Noire grit her teeth. She knew that look. It was the eyes of a unicorn who no longer had control of her own power, but had let the power take control of her. What had Trixie done?!

Wait. Noire looked closer, and began to use her magical senses, underdeveloped as they were.

"Wh-what is she doing?" Iceheart asked beside Noire, taken off-guard by the unicorn's sudden madness.

"The Crystal Heart," Noire said breathlessly. It had taken her several seconds to recognise its signature, but as benign as the artifact had been when they visited it in the city proper, there was no mistaking it. Trixie was acting as a vessel for the Crystal Heart's power.

Noire swallowed, her lips suddenly feeling dry. What had the Crystal ponies said about the Crystal Heart and its relation to Windigo ice in the past? She knew what they had said, but the thought refused to be elucidated.

"She's what? That's madness!" Iceheart said, turning her gaze between the Crystal Empire off in the distance, then back to Trixie, then back to the Empire again. "No, she's not, not completely at least. A partial use, otherwise the dome would have fallen."

"Wha—" Noire started to ask, only to be interrupted again as the amount of magic Trixie released increased even further. No longer was the magic merely bright. Now, it was beginning to radiate heat, kicking up warm wind currents around Noire. Just what was Trixie doing?

Noire's eyes widened. That didn't really matter, did it? She had trusted in Trixie once before, and Trixie had pulled through for her. Noire would trust her best friend, sister, to do what she thought best. And if Trixie needed a little bit of help, well...Noire walked closer to Trixie, and extended a paw out, touching the unicorn's shoulder.

If Trixie needed extra magic, she would get it.

Trixie acknowledged the hoof that patted her shoulder. The other pony willingly released the barriers that separated their magic flows, and raw magical power flowed into Trixie through her shoulder and out her horn.

The Windigo ice was something that could be manipulated. It was something that could be changed. The Crystal ponies may have been in stasis for a thousand years, but here was something that was physical and material in the moment. Now that the Crystal Heart had acted, no amount of anti-magic protection would save the fossils of Windigos long gone. The subtle underlying magic of the ice that had so easily repelled Trixie's magic before would now bow before her might. To melt it would tax the Crystal Heart and fell the dome surrounding the Crystal Empire. That was unacceptable. But Trixie would not be melting the ice.

She could no longer see, eyes blinded by the power of the magic being cast from her horn, but that was alright. She had moved past the old days, when an illusion merely meant tricking one's eyes and ears. All the world was a stage, and upon her stage she would deceive the world.

Trixie cast, and the ice disappeared.

The living wind subsided.

Noire fell over, her body heaving for oxygen. Sweet, sweet air rushed into her lungs. The cold air for once served a purpose, reinvigorating her even as her senses were numb, both from the magical glow and the power she had sensed. She at least still had consciousness, something Trixie didn't. The unicorn had stopped casting her magic, only to flop over into the snow. Only the systematic rise and fall of her chest reassured Noire. While Trixie might have other problems from what she had done, her steady breathing was a good thing.

Speaking of which, what had Trixie done? Noire had gathered a pool of power over many years. Now, that reserve was nearly empty, and Noire would have to horde her magic for the future, unless she could find somepony who was as good at supply love and happy emotions as her mother had been.

"Amazing," Iceheart said beside her.

"What's amazing?" Noire asked, lifting her head up. Iceheart hadn't had most of her energy consumed, but she seemed to barely be fazed by the bright light and display of magical prowess that had just occurred.

"I can feel it. The air temperature is already beginning to warm up. It's subtle, but the wind flows are changing, too. They're natural. They are what they should be, what they were before the Stasis, when there was no ice out here."

Noire's eyes bulged as she realised just what Iceheart was saying. Although weak, she was quickly able to pick herself up, two hooves at a time, before turning around. With a wild whoop of joy, she shook a hoof in celebratory triumph. "She did it!" Noire said. "That madmare really did it!"

Gone was the ice to the north. Where there had been a distinct feature jutting out of the ice, now there were only endless fields of ice flats going further and further north until they eventually terminated at the base of the mountain ranges off in the far distance. The snowstorm had already begun to subside, with the visibility in the area around the ice significantly improved.

Iceheart said, "Yes, she did. No illusion as I understood them could work like this. The wind, the temperature, even the ice underneath my hooves, I can tell. The ice is gone. And without sacrificing the defense of the Crystal Empire, either." Looking back south, she saw that the pale tint of the dome around the city was still there. Somehow, this unicorn who had come to visit the castle had done something she hadn't thought possible. Iceheart knew she owed Trixie, this unusual daughter of changeling and pony, a debt that she might never be able to pay off.

Well, there was no time like the present to start. Noire wasn't in too great a condition, suffering the classical signs of magical fatigue, odd as it was to see in a winged pony. That meant it was up to Iceheart. Bending over, she picked up the unconscious Trixie in her hooves, carefully maneuvering her over until Trixie was propped up on Iceheart's back.

"Come," Iceheart said to Noire, getting the batpony's attention, "The ice may be gone, but that does not mean it is now impossible to freeze to death out here."

Noire nodded wearily. She was glad Iceheart was able to pick up the slack. She barely had the position to walk herself, and even if her wings weren't restricted, flying was out of the question.

The two started to walk again, Iceheart taking the rear this time. As they began to approach the castle, frenzied activity could be seen taking place both outdoors and on the ramparts.

Suddenly, the body Iceheart was carrying began to stir. Iceheart paused to accommodate the shifting form, as Trixie slowly woke up to the world again.

"Did I do it?"

It was a tough thing for Iceheart to smile. Except for Sombra's fall, there had been little for her to smile about for so long, and the ponies she commanded took pride in merely having her there. Trixie also couldn't see Iceheart's face from her position draped over Iceheart's back. Nevertheless, Iceheart smiled, and she said, "Yes, Trixie, you did. The ice is gone, and the dome is still up over the Crystal Empire."

"Oh...good...I guess I did something right at least."

"Don't say that," Iceheart scolded her, unmindful of Trixie's current state, "You did something I did not believe possible. You more than 'did something right', you have made all our lives significantly easier."

"Ah. Thanks."

The mass that was Trixie turned limp again, as she fell asleep. With a bemused side glance, Iceheart took to trotting again.

"Thank you," Noire murmured to her. "She needed that."

"More than her, I needed this," Iceheart confessed to Noire. "When we get back, I will have many things to think over."

"Commander, Miss Noire," Diamond Dust greeted Iceheart and Noire as they approached the castle. "Does Miss Trixie need medical attention?"

The other Crystal ponies were less reserved in their reaction, as Powder Blue rushed out to inspect Trixie. Her horn glowing, she quickly announced her prognosis, "Magical fatigue, nothing more. Commander, what happened out there?"

"The ice is gone, where did it go?"

"What was that bright light? I thought the sun was falling!"

"Are the Windigos coming back?"

"Quiet," Iceheart said, and the Crystal Ponies all fell in line. Powder Blue was the lone exception as she continued examining Trixie. "We used the Crystal Heart's influence to destroy the ice, without the dome falling. I believe what happened is a magical one-off that cannot be repeated. The ice is indeed gone, as both the temperature and the wind patterns have begun to shift and warm up. The Windigos are not returning."

The ponies in formation let out a breath of relief as one.

"Lieutenant Diamond Dust," Iceheart said.

"Yes, commander?" Diamond Dust asked, moving forward a little bit as he was singled out.

"I will be leaving soon. You will be the new commander once I do." There were a few gasps of surprise at Iceheart's proclamation, but nothing past that. Her ponies were much too disciplined to descend into idle chatter while in formation.

"Understood, commander," Diamond Dust said. "When do you plan to leave, and should I wait until then to take over?"

Iceheart had to think over that a little bit, but it was not too difficult. She said, "I plan to leave in about three days, presuming both Noire and Trixie here are in good condition to travel. You may start making decisions immediately, but I will only relinquish my title upon leaving. I will only ask that Powder Blue, if you would please, help me take Trixie up to their quarters. Other than that, you have full control now, Diamond Dust, though you should make sure to send a runner to the Empire to inform them about the ice disappearnig."

"Very well, commander," Diamond Dust said. Turning around, he said, "Carry on with your assigned tasks and patrols. I have paperwork and briefs to work through, but I will start interviewing you one by one later, and one of you will have to carry a message back to the city."

Behind him, Iceheart left, smiling. She knew she had left the castle in good hooves.

Waking up was an uphill battle. She didn't remember much, but she did remember being cold. Wherever she was now, she was nice and toasty warm, and some ancestral instinct told her that to wake up would be to eventually forfeit that heat.

Nonetheless, it was a battle that her body would eventually win over her mind, and her body wanted to move around.

"Good to see you're awake," Noire said from her position at the side of the bed. "If it weren't for the fact every pony here is a trained military professional who has seen combat, we might have actually panicked. Magical fatigue is fairly easy to spot, and the best remedy for that is rest and good food."

Trixie groaned. "I see you weren't as affected as I was if you're in full spirits and capable of snarking," she said.

"Right back at you."

"Should I perhaps leave?"

Trixie looked over to the windows, where Iceheart had been looking outside. Even though they had only met a few days ago, Trixie could recognise that purple coat and white mane anywhere. Right. This was going to be an interesting conversation, "No, you can stay. We banter like this all the time."

"Ah. Very well then," Iceheart said as she strode over to the bed Trixie had been laid up on. "You certainly did expend yourself out there. You have been sleeping for the better part of the day. It is just after sunrise now, you destroyed the ice yesterday."

"Not destroyed, erased," Trixie said. Then she realised what she had just said. "I really did that?"

"You sure did, Trix," said Noire.

"Huh," Was all Trixie had to say. She gave it a few moments' thought, then said, "I would say this is the part in a tale where the heroes celebrate, but I didn't really save the world. Not even the Crystal Empire, or even this castle."

"No, you didn't," Iceheart agreed, "But you did make life significantly easier for us here. Visibility will be improved, temperatures will be warmer, the winds will be gentler, and we will no longer have to patrol around the ice. Now we can go straight through." Trixie delicately tasted the soft emotional mix Iceheart was leaking. It was gratitude. That made sense.

"Not 'we', but 'they'," Noire corrected her.

"Yes, they. You were not awake at the time, Trixie, but I have decided that I will be resigning my commission and leaving the castle within the next few days."

"Wait, really?" Trixie asked. A resolve that had seemed so sharp only a few days ago had already lost its clarity, but now she remembered. Mixed in with all the foolishness, bullheadedness and blind optimism that she could do something thought impossible, something which she actually succeeded in, had been a desire to help the Crystal ponies. Above all else, there had been Iceheart, a pony who Trixie thought was lonely at the top, serving as a pillar of strength for her garrison while jettisoning any personal dreams.

Hearing that what she had done had allowed Iceheart to finally leave her self-imposed exile should have filled Trixie with joy. For some reason, she just felt tired.

"Yes. I have been speaking with Noire over this. If you are alright, I would like to come along with you. I hear you plan to head to the southern reaches of Equestria next? To the Badlands?"

Trixie coughed in surprise, looking up at Iceheart, before her eyes flashed to Noire. The rage subsided as quick as it had come to her. Oh, right. Iceheart had easily figured out Noire's heritage, and it had been Trixie's own fault that Iceheart had the pieces to work with and deduce that information. After that, there really was not much of a need for secrecy left.

"Yes, that was our plan, to head to the Badlands after we visited the Crystal Empire," Trixie admitted. "There is a Changeling hive there where both our fathers came from. While things may have changed, we are likely to get some form of amnesty in attempting to visit. But are you sure you want to come along? The Badlands is the total opposite of here. It's dry, the pegasi don't like delivering rain to the Badlands and the Changelings don't bother, it's hot and dusty, it's, sorry. Um, just, why us? You could explore all of Equestria on your own, you're capable of protecting yourself. If you went with us, me and Noire have a specific location in mind that we don't know how long we'll be there for."

Iceheart said, "I understand what you are saying, but after seeing what you did out there, I am interested in you and Noire. You bring a dynamism none of us Crystal ponies can hope to match. If I am correct in my judgement, even among ponies who grew up in this age, there are few who possess the same spark that the two of you do. It would be remiss of me for us to go our separate ways. I feel that if I go with you, I will not only learn more about Equestria as it is today, but also be able to actively partake in it."

Trixie let out a hum, as she thought to herself. On the one hoof, she was hesitant. The Queen of the Changelings had only recently invaded Equestria, and Trixie was unsure as to how she would react if Trixie and Noire brought a pure pony with them, even if that pony happened to be one who had missed out on a thousand years of history. More ponies would also bog down Trixie's plans for travelling after visiting the Badlands, whatever they may end up being, including visiting Colt Springs on the west coast.

On the other hoof, this whole mess had started because she had strongly sympathised with Iceheart. She still did. Trixie didn't really have the heart to say no. Besides, even with Noire, it would be nice to have another mare along with, especially one who could both fight, and knew of their heritage and yet didn't care.

"What say you, Noire?" Trixie asked her batpony companion.

"I'm good," Noire said. "She asked me earlier, I've already had time to think about it. The more the merrier for travelling, I guess."

"Then I don't have any issue either, so long as you understand that the Changelings may be dangerous," Trixie said.

Iceheart shrugged, shaking her head to get her white mane to fall to one side of her shoulders. "I have fought Windigos, yetis, and polar bears for much of my life. While I suppose I am still afraid of dying, at least it would be someplace exotic."

Trixie laughed, feeling better already than she had even when she had been able to walk around. "So long as you can keep that sense of humour, they're less likely to bite. I'm serious! It's not love, but they'll take good humour too!"

There wasn't really much of a turnout to send Iceheart off from the castle that she had called home for five and a thousand years. This was mostly because there were so few ponies around that she had been able to speak individually with each one of them over the few days since she had decided to resign.

Only Aurora and Snowpeak were there, with Snowpeak just returned from the Empire, having been the messenger to deliver news both of the Windigo fossils' disappearance and of Iceheart's planned resignation. Were there more ponies around, Iceheart and Diamond Dust would have done a more formal send-off and relinquishment of the title of Commander of the Northern Fort, but the new commander was busy getting up to speed with his post.

"It almost seems like the end of an era," Snowpeak said. "When I came you were already leading here, and it felt like you would be here forever. I'm happy for you, you'll finally be able to leave, Iceheart."

Aurora just sniffed. It was clear to all that the green-coated mare would miss Iceheart.

"I am glad as well, Snowpeak. You and Aurora take care of yourselves. Time has passed us by, but that does not mean we need to stay in the past. Eventually, other ponies will come here to take up a post. When that happens, I hope the two of you, all of you truly, will be able to break free from this place. I will miss all of you, even this castle," Iceheart said.

"Be that as it may, I would like to talk to you one last time, about the proposal I would like to make later on," Snowpeak said.

Iceheart consented, and the two walked away, leaving Trixie baffled. Proposal? Her ears flicked in excitement as she recalled just what a 'proposal' could mean, and she wondered who the lucky mare would be, and if it was somepony at the castle.

"You two," Aurora suddenly said to Trixie and Noire, while Iceheart was out of earshot, talking with Snowpeak.

"Yes?" Noire asked.

Aurora grinned, and she said, "I don't know what it is you did out there on the northern flats, or what caused the ice to disappear, or what you three were talking about the night before you went out, but thank you. Whatever it was, you managed to break Iceheart out of that dismal state of hers. We all have our own lives that we want to lead, but we all saw the commander and knew hers was the saddest story of all. We have been hoping that something would eventually lift her spirits. I am sad that she is leaving us, but I know it is the best thing that can happen for her." Mismatched red and purple eyes squinted, and it would have been tough for Aurora's smile to get any bigger, even as Trixie and Noire could both feel the joy bubbling underneath the surface. "So once again, thank you."

Trixie bit her lip. She didn't want to give away the facts on just what had happened out there. While Iceheart thought it was a method worth reusing, all three agreed to keep what Trixie had done under wraps. Given there was no other Windigo ice around, and that it appeared to be a truly specialised technique that only Trixie was capable of, it was quite probable there would be nopony around capable of doing similar magic when the Windigos next appeared.

So instead, she nodded her head in acknowledgement, and waited for Iceheart and Snowpeak to wrap their conversation up before they could leave and head south to the Crystal Empire.

It had been less than a week since Trixie and Noire left the Crystal Empire. Despite that, they had forgotten just how long the trot from the Empire to the fortress had been. In their defense, there had been a lot of activity in the space of that week. With Iceheart coming along, however, they made better timing, as the Crystal pony took a hearty pace. What had taken Trixie and Noire the better part of a day before was now only half a day as they briskly moved to keep up with Iceheart. That they went downhill over the long term also helped.

Trixie had quickly dropped into the trance that she often fell into when she had been out on the road, delegating most of her conscious mental functions to looking out for threats even as the rest of her blanked out. In what seemed like no time at all, they quickly moved past the tinted dome that protected the Crystal Empire, and reached the northern gates.

"Halt! Who goes there—Commander Iceheart, is that you?!" One of the guards sputtered in surprise, nearly dropping his spear.

"I am glad to see you again, Solstice. Has life treated you well in the Crystal Empire?"

Solstice recovered his wits quickly, and gave a salute to Iceheart. He said, "I am doing well, Commander. I have a wife now, and our first foal on the way."

"That is good to hear. I apologise that I will not be around to see him or her, whichever gender it may be."

The other guard, a pegasus mare, blurted out, "Commander, we saw an extremely bright light to the north a few days ago. Is it true what Snowpeak was saying? That the ice is gone?!"

"Yes, yes it is," Iceheart said. "I do not know precisely what happened myself, though I have reason to believe the Crystal Heart was somehow activated, in a method that did not fell the dome." She sighed, and said, "I am tired. I have been the commander of the northern fort for many years already, and now there is nothing left to guard against but for wild yetis and polar bears, barring the Windigos returning within my lifetime. I have resigned my commission, and have come home to make it official."

"What? You, retire? That's, that's, well, wow, I never thought you would retire, no offence, Commander."

Iceheart's blue eyes gleamed with amusement, "Even I yearn for things, Solstice. The ice is gone. Now that the north is free of hazards, I have little desire to stay there until I am an old mare."

Solstice blushed appreciably, a difficult feat under his dark-blue coat. He said, "Well, we'll check you in, Commander, though I guess you won't be Commander for very long. Wait, you said you won't be around to see my child, does that mean you're leaving the Empire?"

"I am. These two mares here have done a fair bit of travelling and intend to continue. I intend to accompany them."

"I'm sorry, Commander," said the female guard. "We tried, we really tried, but the ponies here, they really don't want to listen, urgh!"

Iceheart turned her attention over to the mare. "That is alright, Snow Rose. We are all ponies of the Crystal Empire. Sombra's reign is over, and for some of us it will take longer to recover than others, if ever. Do not think that I am continuing to stay away from the Empire, however. I am actively choosing to go with Trixie and Noire here, because there is a whole new world waiting for us."

"As you will, Commander. Thank you for your service," Crystal Rose saluted Iceheart. "We'll sign you in, so go on ahead."

"Thank you both, Solstice, Crystal Rose. It was a pleasure to have you in my command," Iceheart said, as she at last took her first step into the Crystal Empire in more than a thousand years.

There had been many dirty looks from Crystal ponies who recognised Iceheart, and the underlying hostility was genuine, almost oppressive. With a startle, Trixie realised Iceheart had a rather unique Cutie Mark, resembling the Crystal Heart but with several snowflakes surrounding the heart. There were very few ponies who had Cutie Marks with the Crystal Heart on their flanks in the Empire, though supposedly the Princess was one of them.

Regardless, Trixie and Noire had taken Ice to the hotel at the south end of the Empire where they had previously stayed, getting a room for another night before heading out in the morning. It was just as well, as Iceheart had to go to the Palace to process her resignation, as well as to collect on her pay for her many, many years of service as a high-ranking military official. Iceheart had also said that she had a few other visits to make after, and would be gone until late.

It was while Iceheart was gone that Trixie fidgeted, and paced around the room.

"What's wrong, Trix?" Noire asked from her reclined position, sitting lazily on a bed. It was far too obvious that something was bothering the unicorn.

"What I did out there is what's wrong," Trixie said, briefly chewing away at a hoof. "I mean, it all turned out good in the end, but it honestly scares me, too. The power to do what I did, in a way that leaves no physical evidence there even was an object there? That's terrifying. Plus, what if I had a magical backlash? I was full of bravado, but I have no idea what would have occurred if the magic had been turned back on me."

OK, that actually was a good reason to fret, Noire thought as she hopped off the bed and onto the floor. Noire took a few seconds to think over what she wanted to say, and finally said, "Well, there's no point in beating yourself up over what-could-have-beens. Instead, focus on what-might-bes. If you say there's the possibility of a tragic magic backlash, then what would that entail, how can you reduce the chance of it occurring, and how can you mitigate the consequences should it actually occur?"

Trixie sighed, and she said, "Well, for one, I would never have pulled it off on my own. I needed the Crystal Heart to do it, but that would have just made a backlash worse. So, no using magical artifacts in the future." Left unsaid between the two was that the last time she had used a magical artifact, things had not turned out well. "Formulate a code of ethics and stick to it. Besides, both of you are former law enforcement so I doubt you'd appreciate me making money even if it's physically the same as the real thing."

"Royal guard, not law enforcement," Noire said, but she knew Trixie didn't really care about the difference.

"Right, right, royal guard. Um, don't dump that much power into anything either. That's the other thing I was nervous about. Before, I thought we would go south to see her with full reserves, either as a getaway option or a peace offering."

"And that's something we don't have anymore," Noire completed for her friend. "I have a little bit of emotional reserves left but not much, and I am guessing you were drained dry by that feat of magic you did."

Trixie nodded, and said, "Right. Um, the last thing is, though this fits with the code of ethics, no experimenting on anything living. I've tried it before, on insects, but they resist being changed. Not like the ice was, the ice had antimagic protection but it crumbled easily once that was removed, but living things seem to have an innate resistance."

"What about me?" Noire asked, "You were able to change my appearance."

"Yeah, but that was your surface appearance, how you look and sound to other ponies, it didn't change your magical signature or anything. I, um, I still don't know precisely about your Cutie Mark, but I guess it was influenced by the magic of the black moon. And you were willing to accept the illusion. But the point is, that's different. If I had tried to make you a half a hooflength taller in height, that would have been impossible on the other hoof. I think it complies with all the magical laws about living things resisting other types, but like I said, I don't want to try testing it."

Noire frowned. She was nowhere near as knowledgeable about magic as Trixie was, but something still seemed off. Living beings could resist magic, sure, but they couldn't outright nullify it, otherwise battle magic or healing magic wouldn't work.

While Noire thought about this, the door opened, and Iceheart strode in, wearing empty saddlebags. "Oh, hello Iceheart," Noire greeted the other pony.

"Good afternoon, Noire," Iceheart said. "Have you and Trixie been out to procure supplies?"

"Not yet," said Trixie. "We figured we would take the train south and pick up supplies there. There's a frontier town by the name of Dodge Junction right outside the Badlands. We have money already, don't worry, but out of curiosity, did you receive your pay?"

"I did. I left most of it with my sisters, and the rest I will keep in these 'travellers cheques'."

"I didn't know you had sisters," Noire said.

"They survived Sombra's purge and subsequent reign. The Witch King at least kept his word on that. They did not have the cold tolerance that I had, and so it was me who he was interested in."

Noire backed off, getting the hint that Iceheart didn't want to talk about her sisters. Instead, she said, "Well, they should be good in most of Equestria, even Dodge Junction since it's served by the train. It'll be more difficult to use in remote locations and really small villages though, as they usually don't have banking services." And so Noire went on, engaging Iceheart in idle chatter. Now that the greatest of loads had been removed from Iceheart's shoulders, the other pony was a lot more affable and easy to banter with, even if she still did live up to her name.

Off to the side, Trixie did some accounting, estimating what they would need to pick up in Dodge Junction and the price of those goods. In the morning, they would be off again. It had only been a week since they had first set hoof in the Crystal Empire, and yet it seemed like a lifetime, as Noire and her had picked up a new travelling companion.

What was it that Trixie had thought to herself as she left Whinnychester, leaving the familiar and the safe behind? She certainly couldn't have predicted the adventure that had just occurred.

"Ah, right," Trixie whispered to herself, her father's motto springing to mind again, "Who dares, wins." She would need those words as she marched into the Badlands to attempt a conversation with the Changeling Queen who had invaded Equestria many years ago.

Author's Note

I originally thought every arc would run about 15,000 words, and the size of the New Moon arc deceived me into thinking everything would go as planned. Clearly it didn't. I could have split this chapter up into two but for thematic reasons I am attempting to keep each arc at three chapters.

Something I'll probably edit a bit shortly between this chapter and last is the Crystal ponies. Arguably they should be speaking in ye olde English, except nobody wants to read that crap for two chapters and I don't want to write it, and they were speaking perfectly-modern day in The Crystal Empire episodes too. But I've still tried to craft a distinct style of speech for them that's not very casual in tone to reflect their speech style being different.

The next arc will be 'Upon the Wings of Freedom', in which this story really begins to earn its Changeling tag

"Me, a Changeling? Hah! What Changeling would want to take my form?"

Upon the Wings of Freedom: Dodge Junction

Iceheart had spent over five years in the frozen wastes, even not counting the stasis. She had made one fatal miscalculation in finally leaving.

Wiping a sheen of sweat off her forehead, she took an envious look at her two travelling companions, neither of who seemed bothered by the heat.

"I'm not surprised, honestly. You've been living up there for so long, of course you won't be used to the warmer climates. Don't worry, the Badlands are hot, but they are more a dry hot," Noire commented.

"Are you sure you cannot use a cooling spell on me? Either of you?" Iceheart groused.

Trixie said, "Neigh, sorry. Your body acclimates far slower if you were to use a cooling spell. We will spend a few days in Dodge Junction. While it is supposed to take up to two weeks, most of the acclimatisation should be done before we set out into the Badlands proper."

Iceheart sighed, and she said, "Very well."

The three ponies were sitting in their own private compartment of the Friendship Express, travelling from one extreme of Equestria to another. By the time night fell on the first day of their three-day trip, the outdoor temperatures had already begun to appreciably warm up, filtering in to the cabins. Iceheart had been thoroughly unprepared for it, and had ended up making use of the on-board shower once already.

"You know, I'm curious," Noire said. "Your coat is crystallised as a result of the Crystal Heart, and not its own inherent thing. I've heard it takes a few months for the sheen to go away for ponies who lived in the Empire once they leave."

"I have never been gone away from home or the castle that long," Iceheart said as she took a sip of tea, never really having thought about it. She wondered what her purple coat would be like if or when it ever lost its sheen, having never seen it not crystallised. "I do not know how long it will be for me. There was one case of a pony whose coat took two years to lose its luster. I doubt I will be one of the outliers, but one never knows."

While there was lots of scenery for Iceheart to look at, as the white faded away into greens, blues and browns, there was little else for her to do on the train. What few stops the train made were to pick up and drop off ponies and goods or to change trains, with only enough time to get out and stretch her limbs. As a result, she had ended up trading small stories with Noire and Trixie. Iceheart had consented to mild emotional leeching once Trixie and Noire had revealed some more about their status as magical hybrids, and how they had been run dry in destroying the ice block.

Then Noire decided to drop the bomb.

"So you're a runaway Royal Guard?" Was all Iceheart had to ask upon Noire making the revelation of what she had done before arriving in Whinnychester.

"You're not going to turn me in or anything, or even scold me?" Noire asked, perplexed.

Iceheart shrugged, and she said, "Why should I? As far as I was, am still concerned, Equestria and the Crystal Empire are separate entities with their own separate guards. That had been the case for all of the Empire's history before the Witch King, and an Equestrian pony who claims to be a descendant of the former Princess Amore and decreeing us a vassal state of Equestria does not change it in my mind. The desertion of a guard from a foreign nation does not concern me."

"But you'll take full advantage of being able to travel across Equestria without a visa now, right?" Trixie asked cheekily.

"That is true," Iceheart said, conceding the point. "Of course, it is just like how you took advantage to be able to travel up to our fort, was it not?"

"Yes, and with lots of food, because we all know the best way to a pony's heart is through her stomach," Noire said, and the three shared a small laugh.

And so it was that the band of two became three.

By the dawn of the third day, all three ponies were getting itchy hooves, and Trixie had the oddest desire for an ocarina. Fortunately, it would only be a few hours before the train rolled into Dodge Junction. There had been a lull from the monotony as they passed Canterlot. Iceheart had never seen Canterlot before, and seeing the city on the mountain had been an impressive sight for her. Unfortunately, the floating city of Cloudsdale was on the other end of Equestria at the time, so Iceheart had not been able to see it.

The lakes, rivers, mountains, forests and the cities of Equestria had since given way to endless plains as the train continued moving into the sparsely-populated southern provinces of Equestria. After making one last train change to avoid heading south to the frontier town of Appleloosa, the three mares were on the last stretch, and the outdoors were beginning to become warm enough that even Trixie gave up on acclimating and started to use a cooling spell on their entire cabin.

The number of passengers onboard each subsequent train had leveled off as they split paths to other terminal points of the Equestrian railway, or simply got off at a community partway along the line. As a result, there was no crowd of ponies to push through when Trixie, Noire and Iceheart went to the front cabin, where there was a viewing station for ponies to see ahead of the line. While Dodge Junction had few multi-story buildings, the town could already be seen in the distance, getting closer with every second as the train chugged along.

"So that is Dodge Junction?" Iceheart asked rhetorically. "I can't imagine how ponies can stand to live here in this heat."

Noire said, "You get used to it, trust me. I've lived in towns like this for months on end and I always was able to settle in quickly. Dodge Junction, if I recall, has a lot of cherry farms, while Appleloosa to the southwest has a massive apple orchard and trade with the buffalo. Both communities are hotspots for rodeo competitions, too."

"Well, if they sell right off the trees, I would much like to pick up a basket as soon as we get off," said Iceheart. "Well, I suppose after we secure a room for a couple of nights first."

"Sure," Trixie said. "Come, let's return to the cabin, I need to put my saddlebags back together before we get off."

"Welcome to DOOOOOOOODGE JUNCTION!"

Noire had been the first to exit the train, and as soon as a stallion popped up into her face yelling out loud, her wings immediately opened up in surprise and she yelped, jumping backwards. In the process, she managed to knock over both Trixie and Iceheart.

"Dear, we're not in Appleloosa. Can you please tone it down?"

Noire managed to close her wings back in after a few seconds, and climbed back up to her feet. Looking up to her feet, she looked over to see who had accosted her. Standing on the platform was a stallion with fur the colour of golden straw, and a darker brown mane and tail. He wore a vest and a wide-rimmed hat that Noire didn't know the name of off-hoof.

He was also quick to spot Iceheart, and he excitedly gushed, "Oh, a Crystal pony! We haven't seen one of your kind in quite a while! How do you do? I hope it isn't too warm for you here in Dodge Junction! You should go try some of the cherries they ha-"

"Braeburn!" The stallion's companion hissed.

Noire turned her attention to the female, and did a double take. While the stallion, Braeburn was his name if her assumption was correct, was as equine as an Earth pony could be, the brown-furred buffalo standing behind him was most definitely not. Noire quickly sized up the buffalo, noting that she looked a little bit young, and wasn't wearing any markings to point out her tribe. No, wait, buffalo have a high degree of sexual dimorphism. It's the males who grow to be large. She could be an adult for all I know. She probably IS an adult.

"Oh, sorry ma'am. I get enthusiastic at times, don't mind me. Um..."

"Please, forgive Braeburn. He can be a little, you know, excited at times."

Noire could all too easily read what the female buffalo would have said if not for common courtesy. 'Braeburn can be a little bit of an idiot at times'.

"That is alright," Iceheart said as she picked herself up with grace, finally exiting out onto the platform, wearing her saddlebags. "I can understand ponies and buffalo this far south may not have ever seen a Crystal pony. I am Iceheart. May I have the pleasure of knowing your names?"

"Ah!" Braeburn said, and he smiled. With a brief flutter, Noire could see how he got away with being so loud all the time. "I'm Braeburn, and this here is my, er, companion, Strongheart, of the Thunderhooves tribe."

"The Thunderhooves tribe? Forgive my ignorance if I'm wrong, but I thought your tribe was based further to the west," Noire said.

"We are," The buffalo, Strongheart said. "Me and Braeburn aren't from Dodge Junction, we're from Appleloosa. We're just here for business. Appleloosa grows apples, my tribe has some of its own products, and Dodge Junction grows cherries, so we came to barter for something other than more apples."

"But, apples!" Braeburn protested, until he got a side glance from Strongheart. "Yes, I suppose most of us want more than apples, so that's what we came for, some cherries! So, what brings you folks down on this mighty fine day to good ol' Doooodge Junction?" He asked, significantly toning down his greeting from before.

Noire looked at the two, bemused. While they appeared to be telling the truth, there was a feeling of deceit and guile from Strongheart, especially when she mentioned it being 'just a business trip'. When the two shared glances, there was a brief stir of emotion, almost as if-

Oh! Noire thought to herself. Well, she was fine with that, just a little bit surprised. She would be hypocritical if she didn't like it, considering her own mother and father.

"As you may know, my people, the Crystal ponies, were locked in stasis for a thousand years due to a spell cast by our former mad king," said Iceheart, completely unaware of the behind-the-scenes context to Braeburn and Strongheart's quick looks at one another. "Before he took over, there were many other species that came to our Empire. Some of them were changelings."

"Oh. Oh," was all that Braeburn had to say, looking as if he had just taken a bite out of an extremely sour apple.

"While most went in disguise, a few of them went out openly, and I made friends with one of them. While I am fairly certain she is not alive anymore, I remembered her hive markings, and I wished to make a pilgrimage to the hive she hailed from," Iceheart finished. That had been the cover story the three had devised and rehearsed for when they came south if anypony asked why they were going into the Badlands to find the Changeling hive. It was an open secret that Dodge Junction was the closest town to a major hive, so there would be no way to avoid notice if they walked south from Dodge Junction. "I met these two mares who were travelling, and they offered to join me coming down to Dodge Junction and give me solidarity in numbers."

"Ah Celestia, whew," Braeburn inhaled, then exhaled. Despite being full of wild energy before, the straw-coloured stallion had sagged upon hearing Iceheart's words. Noire could easily taste worry coming off both stallion and cow. "So that's how it is. Um, you might not know this, but a few years ago, Equestria's army and Royal Guard went around to all the towns and cities using a new spell to find changelings who were disguising themselves as ponies."

Both Noire and Trixie's ears flickered at that. Each of them were well-acquainted with the spell Braeburn was talking about. While Noire's father had managed to get around it, Trixie's father had not, to fatal consequences.

"Except here," Strongheart said in turn. "Everybody knows there are changelings here in Dodge Junction, but nobody knows just how many. It was possible that enough ponies here aren't that any scan of the population could have caused a riot. The mayor here asked the Guard not to come, and they didn't."

"You've been here at least a few times then to know all this," said Trixie.

"Well, yes," Braeburn admitted. "The cherry orchards are usually in bloom earlier than our apple orchards are, so plenty of Appleloosans come here for the cherry harvest and then ponies from here come to Appleloosa for the apple harvest. It's, um, I figure at least a few of the ponies I know here are changelings. I just don't want to know who they are, even as I work with them. You don't know, and that makes ponies here uneasy sometimes. But not knowing has been the best answer they've come up with."

"As long as they're cordial and pleasant to work with, the people here will get along with their neighbors regardless, though there are numerous spot inspections to make sure nobody has actually been kidnapped and replaced by a changeling, as opposed to one creating an identity from scratch," Strongheart added. "I get off a little easy, since changelings don't usually take the form of buffalo."

"So what does that mean for us, then?" Iceheart asked. "I was hoping to find someone locally who is acquainted with the Badlands and could guide us out there to the Changeling hive. It seems that if we do find somepony, others will suspect her or him of being a changeling in turn, or at least, more than they did before."

Braeburn let out a soft 'hum', sitting down on his haunches and crossing his front limbs over his barrel, striking a rather thoughtful pose. "Well, there are a few ponies who do offer guide services into the Badlands. I don't know specifically about going to the Changeling hives, but some of the guides and changelings do occasionally meet and trade information and goods in the Badlands. You could probably find one in the Salt Lick Saloon. Sorry, but I can't recommend any of the guides to you, I've only talked to them and never had cause to use their services."

"No, that's alright," said Noire. "You've already given us plenty of information about the town. We'll have to be careful about what we say, then."

"Well, they'll probably give you, erm, Iceheart was it? Ah, yes, they'll probably give you some lenience. Even my tribe has heard of the Crystal Ponies and their history. If you explain your circumstances then likely several of the guides would take you out."

"I see. Thank you for the advice," Iceheart said, giving Strongheart and Braeburn a nod.

"Shucks, that's not a problem. Sorry, but we can't stay around too long now, we've gotta be getting back to Appleloosa and this is our train," Braeburn said, returning Iceheart's nod with a quick flick of his hat. Without further adieu, the stallion and buffalo walked onto the train, leaving the three mares behind.

There wasn't much for choice for hotels in Dodge Junction, but the lack of choice also made the process quicker. In no time, the three had booked a room and dropped off their saddlebags, and went down to the local bar, the Salt Lick Saloon.

Trixie took point as she had had the most experience with actually negotiating with others, whereas Iceheart was a pony who had mostly commanded. Trotting in front, Trixie opened the saloon doors, walking inside.

Her first impression was a good one. Unlike many of the bars Trixie had seen around Equestria, this one was actually well-lit, with a natural skylight of all things. Though the large room could be said to be rustic, being constructed of wood and ventilation open to the outside air, it was also fairly clean. The atmosphere was pleasant, with ponies and the odd other creature, such as a Diamond Dog here, and a buffalo there, sitting around the tables and bar. While there were hints of mild unease and fear here and there, the dominant mood of the room was camaraderie.

"Greetings, what can I get for you!" The bartender said as he saw the three mares who had come in. He was a white-coated unicorn, who was currently using his magic to clean several glasses at once with a squirt of water followed by a washcloth. "Oh, a Crystal pony! You're a long ways from home. You're only the second one down here I've seen since the Empire reappeared."

"We'll each take drinks and a meal. We just got off the train, so we're all a little bit peckish," Trixie said, hopping onto one of the bar stools. "What is the special today?"

"My chef has got chilled cherry soup in the back, along with a beets salad and cherry chimichangas," said the bartender.

Trading looks with Iceheart and Noire to confirm that they were alright with it, Trixie turned back towards the bartender and said, "In that event, we'll get a meal each. Just water for now, please."

The bartender put his glasses down, walking through a door into the back area, returning seconds later, "OK, that'll be a few minutes. Anything else I can get you ladies? Are you here for vacation, business, visiting family?" Many of the ponies at the table turned their attention to the three mares who had just come in, also curious.

"Not quite any of those," said Iceheart. "We're here to go to the Badlands. A thousand years ago I met a changeling. Though she is undoubtedly dead by now, I would like to at least see the hive she hailed from, and I need a guide who can take us."

Conversation around the bar table halted almost immediately, and while the ponies out in the commons were still chatting, a few of them had also overheard Iceheart and turned to stare.

Trixie almost wanted to smack her head with hoof, as she felt the suspicion that had suddenly permeated the bar. She didn't want attention like this!

"I'll do it."

"Hmm?" Trixie asked, and she looked towards the end of the bar where the speaker was.

That day in Dodge Junction was the first time that Trixie laid eyes on the red pegasus.

The first thing that she noticed was his coat and mane. It wasn’t quite rare for ponies to have similar colours of body and head and tail hair, but it wasn’t common either. The pony who had rudely spoken up, however, was a uniformly brilliant bright sheen of red all over, with only the most keen eye capable of telling where hair ended and coat began. Even his eyes were a vibrant red, though at the time they were more malicious than mirthful. Only the pupil and whites of his eyes and his Cutie Mark, a pair of dark red wings overlaid a picture of the globe, detracted from the uniform colour of red.

The second thing Trixie noticed was that he had only one wing, with the left one missing.

"The name's Red," said the one-winged pegasus, hopping out of his stool and making his way down to where the three mares were. "If you want to go out into the Badlands, I've been out on several expeditions so far, and I've been to the hive twice before. I know how to deal with the changelings. They're paranoid buggers, but so long as you're willing to put up with the security precautions they have, it's possible to speak with them." His voice was on the deeper side for a stallion, with a slight scratchy quality to it.

There was a flash of deceit when he introduced himself, Trixie thought. Red probably wasn't his real name, but did that mean he was a changeling? It was impossible for her to tell if somepony was truly a pony or a changeling just by reading their emotions. "And how do we know you're not a changeling yourself, then?" Trixie asked.

Red laughed, and many of the ponies cringed at hearing it. It wasn't a nice laugh. Instead, it came out more as a mad bark, but Trixie could easily feel the amusement underneath, combined with just a little bit of pain. What was with this pegasus?

"Me, a Changeling? Hah! What Changeling would want to take my form?"

There were multiple nods from other ponies, and Trixie had to concede the point. The changeling transformation was a full, physical transformation. It would take an incredible commitment to living full-time as a crippled pony to stay in a pony town, when the changeling could all too easily have both wings and be able to fly at will, or perhaps a horn instead.

"Any other pony in town, they could be a changeling. Me, there's no way. If I were a Changeling there's no way I'd continue living with one wing," Red said.

"That may be true," Noire said from aside Trixie, "But we still do not know you. Is anypony else here willing to vouch for Red?"

"Red is one of our best guides, even with only one wing," said the bartender from behind her, setting their drinks down on the table. "He may have just washed in one day, but he's as good as any hometown pony here."

"Very well then. Is there anyone else here qualified to take us out?" Trixie asked, hoping for a second option to barter for a lower guide fee. She looked around, and grimaced as there didn't seem to be any other guides willing to volunteer. Negotiation would be a pain in the flanks, then.

"Unlikely," Red said. "Most of them are helping to set up for the cherry-growing season. Obviously I can't bring in clouds, or else I'd be out there, too."

Trixie winced. Red was so nonchalant about his injury, but every time he mentioned it there was a tightly wound coil of pain underneath. No pegasus could help but to grieve over the loss of flight, and Red was one of those who was able to put on a brave face, but was still hurting. Trixie would have to try to be sensitive about it.

"Very well, let's talk. Bartender, we'll take that table, please," Trixie said, pointing to an empty table before she lifted their glasses of water up, moving them over to the table. As she saw other ponies follow her, she cleared her throat loudly. Embarrassed faces turned aside, and the room buzzed with conversation again.

"Five hundred bits a pony, plus cost of supplies. If you end up staying at the hive, an extra two hundred bits a day that I act as your guide."

"Two hundred fifty a pony, you give us a list and we'll buy what's required. Iceheart is a former military pony who's had experience with hostile conditions and Noire and I have both travelled lots through rugged terrain, so we don't need a babysitter, just a guide. One hundred bits per day extra."

"Don't make me laugh, two hundred fifty bits? Hmm, you all look like you're in good physical condition, I'll make it four hundred each and one seventy-five per day extra. If I let you go to the shop you'll buy the cheapest things there, that's no good. If you go out into the Badlands you need quality."

After introducing one another more in-depth, Trixie and Red bargained hard over the price of their expedition into the Badlands, with the occasional interjection from Iceheart and Noire. Their food came, giving Trixie a break as she went through the food. While the beets and chimichanga weren't great, they were reasonable. The chilled cherry soup, however, was very good, and Trixie resolved to come back here another day if it went on special again for the soup alone.

They also talked about the conditions of the Badlands, and the security of the changelings. "We may have to walk around a bit before we catch their attention, I can't guarantee they'll be expedient in noticing we're out there, even when I create a signal. If they let us in, they'll put sleeping spells on all of us and take us to the hive so we can't find it on our own. You'll be asked to pay a toll of emotional energy before they accept us. Once inside, you'll each have at least two guards on you at all times."

"Two days? I see, Iceheart, is it? Drink lots of water, make sure to get lots of salt, don't use a cooling spell or your room AC at all, your body will adapt faster. Go for a light walk tonight and a longer walk tomorrow, but no more than a few hours."

"If none of you have a hat, get one. Sunstroke is a terrible thing to have happen out in the Badlands."

"No, I don't care if you can make a cloud, Trixie. Clouds require moisture and there isn't much in the Badlands. Then you need to push it with you everywhere you go. Too much work."

Being able to sense emotions was usually a boon for Trixie in making deals, but Red was as tough as nails. It was entirely possible he had forged his negotiating skills through multiple bargaining sessions with changelings in disguise, but there was something more to it. Red lacked guile when actually negotiating, seeming to have no interest other than yielding as much profit as possible. It was tough to stay looking at him vis-a-vis: his red eyes burned with a passionate fire that would have scared Trixie were she not certain that it reflected her own in certain brave moments of her past.

That, and if Trixie were to let her eyes wander, she knew they would eventually settle on the stub on Red Wing's left side. Not only would it be rude, it was also something she didn't want to think about, so she stayed focused and kept her eyes right ahead.

At last, the two sat back, having bumped hooves on a formal deal, and Trixie had to actually wipe a thin sheen of sweat off her brow. While it had been exhausting, it had also been exhilarating. Trixie could feel tinges of admiration from both Noire and Iceheart directed at her.

"So two days from now, we'll set out at dawn. If our stay in the hive is brief that should be enough time to get back before night time," Red said. He was using his lone wing to hold a pen as he wrote details down on paper. "I'll collect half tomorrow afternoon, so be certain to visit the branch and be ready with the bits when I visit, I need some of that money for supplies anyways."

"Agreed."

"In that case, I'll be off," Red said, rising up from his seat. Rolling up the paper, he tucked it and his pen into his mane before striding out of the bar.

"Whew," Trixie said as she fell from her position sitting on her haunches down onto all fours.

"Yes, Red has that effect on others," the bartender said as he came by, filling up their glasses with more water. "He was like that even when he first arrived in Dodge Junction. Yes, both the attitude and the missing wing. I can only guess that one led to the other."

"In what order?" Iceheart asked.

The bartender shrugged, as he wrote up a receipt for their bill, "Either, really. He could have lost that wing from circumstances caused by his personality, or maybe he lost a wing and took a turn for the worst. Well, he may be a bit cruel at times, but he's not a bad pony."

"You've drank with him?" Iceheart continued to ask him questions.

"Oh yes, not often, but on occasion. He's not an angry drunk, fortunately, but he does get a bit sulky. He knows his job, though. He's never had any issue with the changelings, and I believe it when he says he's not a changeling." The bartender chuckled, then added, "Changelings absorb energy from positive emotions, right? It's very rare for Red to evoke positive emotions in others."

Trixie shared his chuckle, but swallowed nervously as well, her throat suddenly dry. While it didn't happen very often, Red's emotions had occasionally slipped when something related to his missing wing came up. It was like a firestorm, a mixture of anger, depression, and sorrow. The bartender was practically singing Red's praises, but she hoped that the ticking bomb didn't go off while they were out in the Badlands.

The remainder of that day and the next flew by quick, as Trixie only briefly saw Red again to give him half his fee upfront. Iceheart managed to slowly tolerate the heat, but it was a work in progress. They bought wide-rimmed hats to protect from the sun.

Noire, meanwhile, sat on the chair next to the hotel room's window, looking out in the Badlands. She wondered what it would be like to lose a wing and never be able to fly again.

It was a tough prospect. Every time her mind wandered to it, she physically recoiled. Noire loved the sky, from the first time she had been carried into the air by her father, to when she had finally been able to fly on her own. As a hybrid, she had an option with magic that most pegasi didn't if she were to lose a wing. Even still, the very idea left her nauseous.

Noire shook off the thought when it did occur. Sadly, the project for prosthetic wings that the academics in Canterlot had mooted was making incredibly slow progress. As very few pegasi lost a wing, there just wasn't much demand for it. Noire didn't expect it would come to fruition in her lifetime, and so Red would be forever confined to the ground.

She exhaled, going through breathing exercises to calm her state of mind. Tomorrow, they would go into the Badlands. There, hopefully, they would meet a queen of the Changelings, reveal the destruction of the ice, reminiscence about her and Trixie's lost fathers, and find out what information the hive had about the magically-hybrid pony offspring of pony-changeling couples. It would be a big meeting, one that would require many delicate words.

Every second that ticked on the hotel room's clock was one second closer to that confrontation.

Early the next morning, Trixie, Noire and Iceheart found themselves in a corner of the hotel's lobby, along with Red. There, they were putting together supply kits and saddlebags for each one of them.

"Let's see, you each have four bottles of water, check. Each of you have a half dozen salt cubes, check. Rope of sufficient length, good," Red muttered as he continued to count off items. The red stallion was single-minded in his work. Trixie couldn't sense a drop of fear from Red, even though he was soon to go out into a territory inhabited by the changelings, a race that had years ago invaded Canterlot and was still ponysa non grata with the rest of equinekind.

At last, he rose up, and said, "Everything is in order. Now, this is your last chance if you want to back out. Remember, I cannot promise that you will not come to harm. Changelings are the enemies of ponies, after all. If you do, however, the upfront fee is still non-refundable."

Trixie smirked. If only he knew that two of the three mares he was to escort had had changelings for a parent, Red might not have been so grating. Alas, he did seem talented and experienced and came recommended, so they had to make do with what they had. He would be the one to take them to Queen Chrysalis. "We didn't come this far just to scamper off with our tails tucked in between our flanks."

Red cracked a grin in return, and he said, "I like you, I really like you, that's a good attitude. In that case, we're off to the Badlands!"

Author's Note

Alternate title names for this Arc were 'Freedom Wings' and 'On the Wings of Freedom'. I felt the current Arc title felt the most poetic, so there it is.

I've been looking forward to writing this chapter. Given Dodge Junction is so close to the Badlands (according to the single 'official' map of Equestria), I decided there must be some sort of guarded awareness that there are probably Changelings around. They could try rooting them out but the rabbit hole may go deep enough that they could create a disaster in doing so. Much like with trying to create the Crystal ponies where they find themselves a thousand years in the future and are struggling to catch up culturally in the Stasis arc, here I attempted to develop that culture of a mix of grudging suspicion of who your neighbors might be but also accepting them for their personality and not whatever their true race is.

I'm of the mind that prosthetic wings were only developed as a response to multiple injuries in the Crystal War timeline, and that regular timeline Equestria doesn't have them, hence why Red doesn't have a prosthetic.

Next chapter will involve a trip into the Badlands, so before I write it I'm going to take a hike through actual physical badlands to get a better feel for it before writing it.

Upon the Wings of Freedom: The Badlands

"White sagebrush isn't as common as regular green sagebrush, but there's functionally no difference between the two beside the way they look. Ponies and changelings of old used to use it for medicinal purposes, but nowadays modern medicine has superseded it. As a last resort, if you cannot find any source of water, you can chew on it to alleviate thirst, but I do not recommend it."

Red used his single wing to remove a knife from his satchel, walking over to a cactus. "Your better bet if you cannot find water is to go for the fruit of a cactus. Since I'm around, I know where to find the small pools of water in the badlands, but in case I am incapacitated it is best to learn this. See the fruit of the cactus, this red part? You'll have to handle it carefully because of the spines, though since you're a unicorn, Trixie, you can use magic to hold it without getting stung. Watch, you have to skin the spines." Awkwardly, Red grabbed a fruit with his front hooves, holding it gently so as to not push the spines past the hard keratin of his outer hoof and into the soft inside. Slowly, he sliced the fruit open, pulling out a yellow-white inside.

"You can also take several of these and boil them in water to remove the spins and skin, but since you're looking for water in the first place, that defeats the purpose. You can also skin the actual cactus itself for water, but it tends to be more difficult. Oh! I've never seen any barrel fruit cactus in the badlands, they have yellow fruit that looks a little like a small pineapple, but if you do find one, don't touch it. The water they have is usually poisonous, and even the spores are capable of causing infection."

It didn't take long for Red to start displaying why the bartender had recommended him as a guide. Soon after they crossed the line where the weather ponies stopped being responsible for weather, the land turned from rolling blankets of greenery into a drier, arid brown. The make-up of the flora quickly shifted, from bluegrass and cherry trees into sagebrush, cacti, ferns and shrubby grasses, whatever could survive in the badlands. The one-winged pegasus had immediately started explaining the terrain to them, and what to watch out for.

To say the badlands were full of rolling hills was an understatement. The hills towered over the terrain, with cliff faces dropping several hundred feet at a near ninety degree angle from the side of the hills into multiple valleys below.

"Way back in the day, before we warmed the planet up, there were glaciers in the badlands," Red had said when asked about the geography. "The glaciers were so massive they moved under their own mass. Not very quickly, mind you, but over the course of many years they moved through here and carved out large valleys. When the world warmed up, the glaciers melted, creating river beds in the valleys and a few small lakes. Then the water mostly evaporated too, leaving the badlands the way it is today. Uncontrolled precipitation comes off the eastern seaboard and gives the badlands a little bit of water. What falls on top of the hills, or coulees is the more technical name, but nobody local uses them, drains down into the valleys." He made a pointing motion with his lone wing at the many small lines that existed in the hill crags, where it was evident water had streamed down in rivulets, slowly gouging out lines. A few small shrubs were growing on the cliff faces, using the position to extract water dripping down and guard against the intense sun and high winds on top of the coulees.

Iceheart was quick to make an assessment of the natural advantage of the badlands. "It would be difficult to pursue anypony who fled into the badlands," She said. The rolling hills and the deep valleys made for an easy hideaway. It would require hundreds of ponies to find a single refuge.

Red snorted. "They'd have to both survive the heat and the changelings, who deem any fugitive free rein to do with as they wish. Do not get me wrong, many have tried. Only a few escape. I would not be surprised to one day stumble across a pile of bones. There is a section of the badlands called the Horseshoe Canyon, so-named because the only thing that was found of one pony once was his horseshoes."

Trixie wrinkled her nose at that anecdote. It didn't bear thinking much about. There was a reason why they had hired a guide, and Red at least seemed competent enough that they wouldn't be suffering a similar fate.

So it was that Red continued to take them deeper into the badlands, going through valleys and riverbeds, occasionally making it onto the top of the hills, where years of the badland's weather had trimmed off the hilltops, leaving them mostly flat. When the four were walking hillside, however, they were fully exposed to the elements. The morning sun beat down on them, and the gusts hit them with warm air, doing little to repel heat exhaustion.

After a few hours, Red at last brought them down into a low canyon, where the temperature dropped significantly, and the cliffs provided natural shade. With a little bit of walking, he led them straight to a pond, snugged away into a nook underneath an outcrop. "This is the Pupilla Canyon, named after a changeling queen who brought water into this part of the badlands many hundreds of years ago. Most of it has dried up, but there are still underground reservoirs that bubble up and feed small ponds here and there. There isn't really a pony equivalent name, but ponies have never settled here anyways, so the changeling names will have to do if anyone ever tries to draw a map."

The four sat down, each taking a sip from their canteen. Dry lips and tongues welcomed the water greatly, and Trixie had to pace herself, lest she choke attempting to drink her own water too quickly. The water had stayed cool, a welcome balm against the warm air of the badlands.

"So, where are the changelings, then?" Noire asked Red, curious. Neither her nor Trixie knew the hive's exact location, outside of it merely being in the badlands.

"There's no way they would ever tell me," Red stated. "Obviously they aren't living above ground, or they would have been found a long time ago. They may be living underground, but I think it's more likely they've created a network of caves within the hills here. It would be easier to move around that way, and a lot of the hills were made from layers of sediment deposited even before the age of the glaciers from ancient river beds. They would be a lot easier to tunnel through than digging deeper into the bedrock."

"You sound close to the changelings," Noire commented. There was a brief spike of fear from the red pegasus that she could feel, but it quickly evaporated. While Red had not been reticient to escort the three mares into the hilly wastes where the changelings resided, he seemed to have little affection for the pony race as a whole. Was he perhaps a misequinist?

Red shrugged, and he said, "They have their own culture, one that would no doubt be bizarre to ponies, but in a way that makes them easier to talk to and occasionally work with. They deserve the flak they get for their invasion a few years ago, but other than that, they've been a fairly problem-free neighbor, one who it's possible for ponies to live with."

Noire just about felt suffocated by the sudden intense feeling of longing emanating from Red as he looked over at the stub on the left side of his body. Even when he looked back up it was still there, lingering in his bright red eyes.

Ah, now Noire could see why he felt such affinity for the changelings. If he was one, then Red could simply transform away his wing injury.

"It feels more like we've been going up and down rather than actually moving," Trixie whined. She was used to rough journeys over rugged terrain, but the sheer amount of steep elevations the four ponies had to go up and down constantly had left her winded. Compared to the former military or guardsponies Iceheart and Noire, and Red, who seemed to live and breath the badlands' geography, Trixie was the weakest link. The unicorn wasn't used to being the one who had to call for a break.

Red grunted. "You are doing significantly better than most who come out here. Let's get over this next hill, and we will take a break. There is not much to actually see in the badlands, but over the hill is one of the few things it's worth stopping for to take a look."

Trixie stopped to take in a few breaths, wiped aside a slick trail of sweat from the damp fur of her forehead, then continued on grudgingly following Red up the hill.

"Having a hard time, Trix?" Noire asked as she flapped beside her, looking amused.

"Someday, someday I'll figure out how to self-levitate, I swear," Trixie said. "Then I'll be laughing."

Noire chuckled. "I'll keep the skies open and clear the day you do."

The two kept bantering at one another, but kept their low. Noire had restricted her flight through most of the badlands. Part of it was hesitation at exposing herself when they were flying over top of the hills. The other part of it was the concentrated feelings of loss Red felt and Noire and Trixie could both detect whenever Noire took to the air. By that same logic, Trixie did not talk about the subject of self-levitation when within earshot of the one-winged pegasus, a subject that she was figuring out in bits and pieces.

The four ponies, three mares and a lone stallion, finally cleared the steep pathway leading from their current valley up into the canyon. Once Trixie stopped to gather her breath, she looked over in the direction Red was facing. "Oh, wow," was all the words she could muster.

"Those are the hoodoos. You may have heard of 'voodoo' magic practiced by some of the shamans in Neigh Orleans. It's sometimes referred to as 'hoodoo' magic instead. One day, supposedly, a changeling thought it looked rather like a hoodoo magician he had once seen that stood upright when casting and wore a large, rounded hat, and the name stuck. That's as good a name to me as any. I suppose if a pony were to name it, she'd probably come up with something cliche like a mushroom spire or something like that, then expect to get a place in history books for naming them."

Off in the distance, away from the river valleys and hills there stood a large number of rock pillars reaching towards the heavens. Time had hacked away at them oddly, savaging many of them by breaking them off partway down, leaving jagged tops. Other pillars, however, were smoothed out by time's more gentle currents, but were topped by large caprocks significantly wider than the stone spires they adorned.

"How does that even happen?" Iceheart asked. It had been cold, always cold in the Crystal Empire, so to see the results of a different ecosystem were fascinating.

"Wind currents come off the eastern sea, and wear away at the hoodoos over time. When there was actually water in the badlands, it first built up the sediment layers that make up the hoodoos, and later it wore away at the softer sections. Wind and water both disproportionately affect the lower layers of rock, leaving that odd mushroom-like top. Not very many come out this far, given the changelings, but I have had a couple of daredevils who try to scale these. Don't, by the way. It's not very fun to treat someone for a fall this far away from Dodge Junction."

"That wasn't our plan for today. I'm pretty sure that wasn't our plan for ever, for that matter," said Trixie.

"Good," Red said. "Falls are bad mojo in my life."

Trixie raised her eyebrows. There was just a little too much anger in those words. Normally, she would attempt to be tactful, but then, Red had practically invited her to ask. "Your wing, was it?"

"Not quite," Red said, and all three mares turned to face him, listening intently. "Close enough, though. Once, when I was younger, more foolish than I am now, I attempted to break up a tornado that was zooming in on my hometown. I succeeded in neutralising it, but it clipped my wing. I fell onto my wing, and it was mangled beyond repair, so they removed it before it could become gangrenous."

That was it? Trixie thought.

"That was a clinical description," Iceheart remarked. "Then again, you have probably described the events many times over the years, so I do not blame you. I am more curious, however, about how you eventually ended up in Dodge Junction."

Red grinned. Underneath the surface was a clumpy mix of happiness and depression, and Trixie had to fight the urge to recoil at it. It had been a long time since she had opened herself to feeling the emotions of others as much as she had in the last few weeks. Even then, she had usually opened herself up when in front of a crowd, where she could feed on the excitement of the ponies watching her show. Being subject to the more run-of-the-mill moods of ponies such as Iceheart and Red were a learning lesson for her. Trixie thought she had been empathetic before, but she was only now beginning to learn just how naive she had been.

"There's not too much to tell about that. I left home because I couldn't tolerate it anymore. Some ponies practically smothered me with affection, and others crossed the street to stay away from me. All of them looked at me as if I were a cripple, even though I can still work. I took odd jobs here and there, mostly on farms, until I eventually came down to Dodge Junction." Red shrugged, turning his head around to look at either side of him before looking back at the hoodoos. "It's still not quite home, but at least ponies here, be they actual ponies or changelings, are still mostly concerned with what you can do, as opposed to who or what you are."

"Anyways!" Red suddenly said, "Do you see that one hoodoo in the distance? Not the white one, but the one standing next to the white one."

The deflection was obvious, but Trixie obliged Red, following his hoof. The spire he pointed at was an odd one. Instead of going straight up, it jutted out at an angle. Furthermore, it had two bends in the formation before ending in the caprock. There were even a few holes going through the hoodoo. "Wait a minute, that looks like-"

"Like a horn, yes. The changelings call that Metamorph's Horn, after an old tyrant queen they deposed. I don't know whether they found it funny to do so or meant it seriously, naming that rock after her that is, but they only named it after she was killed."

Trixie vaguely knew the name of Queen Metamorph. Her father had never told her very much about Changeling lore, but the tale of Queen Metamorph was one of the few things he had regaled her with. Queen Metamorph had been a terrible queen intent on attacking another hive elsewhere, but at the last minute she had been betrayed by her guards and assassinated, thus cutting her rule short several hundred years ago. While Wooden Chisel had considered himself to be a stateless subject more than anything else, he was at least happy enough with Princess Celestia's rule to pay his taxes every year and send Trixie off to a school named after the Solar Princess.

Trixie could only hope that Queen Chrysalis would be better than some of the other Changeling Queens of the past. Suddenly, she felt as if she might be walking into a trap of her own making.

She scrunched her nose. That was unlikely. Red had apparently returned from the hive twice before, so it wasn't as if the changelings snatched any ponies that came into their grasp and prevented them from leaving. Trixie would just have to keep her head high and control her emotions so well that the Queen could not even feel Trixie's fear.

"Anyways, there's not too much more to walk, maybe another half an hour to go. It's all downhill from here, too, so no more climbing up."

"Thank goodness," Trixie said at that last statement. All four of her limbs burned. Stopping to take a look at the hoodoos had only made the aching sensation in her body more acute.

True to Red's words, the four ponies slowly started dropping down into another dry river valley. However, something was distinctly different about the riverbed here. Instead of the narrow cuts and winding curves of the lowlands in the rest of the badlands, the valley here was far wider, with the distance between cliffs spanning several hundred hoof-lengths. Evidence of past water flow through the valley was limited. It hardly seemed likely that water or glaciers alone could have created this area. There was an extensive amount of greenery, however, with a high density of shrubs and brush, and even a few trees.

Trixie looked it over. She wondered. When she had gotten rid of the Windigo ice in the North, she hadn't so much destroyed it as she had erased it by convincing the world that the ice simply was not there, though converting such a novel concept into a magical spell had been the culmination of years of practice and months of thought-exercises. Similarly, she had been able to cajole objects to change shape and mass before. Would she perhaps be able to apply the same idea to creating something, such as water in the valley? It would bear thinking about, but conjuring something through the specialised use of illusions was likely to be even more difficult than erasing something. The block of ice had only been the size of a few houses put together, too. She would need something larger than that to make a truly drastic difference here.

"This is Mirage's Gorge. Unlike most other areas in the badlands, this area was deliberately dug out and enlarged in the past through the extensive use of magic to create an outdoor gathering place and even to grow grass crops in wetter years. Sometimes even before Equestria was created as a nation-state, Queen Mirage resolved a war between multiple changeling hives, holding several meetings in the gorge here. Because of that, changelings hold the Gorge to be a holy ground. No fighting may take here, ever, even against other races. They will go to extreme ends to keep this a sanctuary, and that is why we will stay here until the changelings see that we are here."

Iceheart said, "Interesting. Would they not have precautions against the possibility of ponies or other races using this fact against them?"

Red shrugged. "It is highly unlikely they could be cajoled into mounting an army or going through here anyways. Even assuming they don't have underground caverns to bypass the Gorge when moving around, this is the largest, most open low area around. They would never attempt a fight here. The narrow valleys and the high hills are a natural advantage for the changelings if they ever had to fight defensively. They know the terrain better than I do. Now, who has the flares?"

"I do," Noire said, opening up her saddlebag and removing a tightly wound pack of flare sticks. "I assume this is how you will be getting their attention?"

"Yes," Red affirmed.

"But wouldn't that be anathema, then, to set off flares in a place of sanctuary?"

"Not really. I don't know why, either. It is just one of those cultural things that I have yet to decipher, although I have not really thought to straight-up ask, either," Red said as he grabbed the flares out of Noire's wing with his own wing, before putting them down on the ground. Using hooves and his single wing to set up the flares, he backed away. "Noire, Iceheart, Trixie, fifty hoof-steps should be sufficient. Trixie, if you know a spell to reduce volume, that would be helpful. Otherwise, everypony should cover their ears."

"I know one," said Trixie. "Do you want me to light the flares as well with magic? I've used a few of them in the past."

"That would be very helpful," Red agreed.

The four moved across the field, past a couple of trees and finally stopped right next to a tiny puddle, perhaps two hoof-lengths in diameter. Turning around, Trixie cast the sound-dampening spell, setting it to fully silence any noise coming into their immediate perimeter. Opening her mouth, she yelled at Red to get his attention. Red, in turn, nodded for her to start at seeing how effective her spell was.

Trixie's next spell was to light up the fuse for the flares. Holding her hoof up, she watched in the distance as the fuse burned down, and then swung her hoof down just as the flares lit up.

Without the loud crack-boom sound, the flares were not very impressive. They lacked the visual flair that Trixie loved in her fireworks, merely kicking up a lot of dust and smoke. She could feel the slight change in air pressure as the air vibrated around her, but at the distance they were from the flares, it was only slightly noticeable.

Satisfied that the flares had gone off as planned, she dropped her sound-muffling spell. "How was that?" Trixie asked.

"Good, good," Red said. "The changelings will be here sooner than later."

"You know, I'm curious about something," Noire said. She stopped speaking, looking unsure about what she had been about to say, only to go ahead and say it, "Weren't you worried that we might have been changelings ourselves?"

"Not really. Maybe if you were changelings from another hive who were on their way to start a war or something, but I doubt it. Well, I will admit that Mirage's Gorge makes me feel safe. It would have to be a truly rogue changeling or changeling hive to pick a fight here, even with me, a pony. It's possible but not likely the hive will decide to keep me this time, either. From what I've figured, they like to have a few open points of communication with Dodge Junction, ones that both sides, well, they don't really trust me, but they don't have any reason for mistrust either. Although," Red raised a single red eyebrow. The motion was difficult to tell as the colour of his eyebrow blended into the rest of his red coat, but it could be detected with the telltale stretching of his eyelid and eye muscles. "You aren't changelings, are you?"

"No, we are not. I am curious, honestly, as to whether a changeling would be capable of duplicating the effect of the Crystal Heart on her coat when she transforms into a pony or, for that matter, if she could undergo the crystalling the same way we Crystal ponies do," said Iceheart.

"They probably won't tell you. Like I told you before, they're paranoid. If you knew either way, you could potentially use that information to narrow down changelings hiding out as ponies up north. Speaking of which, you lived in the north. We have time to waste before the changelings arrive. I would like to hear about your homeland. I hope to be able to travel again some day, and I would love to visit the Crystal Empire." Red sighed wistfully.

Trixie froze. She knew that sigh, and that complicated swirl of emotions. She had made the same sigh day in and day out for two years. It was the sigh of a pony who was stuck in one place for too long and wished to move on. It was more than that, though. Every pony wanted to be able to move, yearned to explore, but few had such an intense desire as Red did in that last statement of his. His dreams of freedom equalled the intensity of his longing for his lost left wing. No, more than that. No doubt his two desires were closely related to one another. While it was still possible to move around Equestria and beyond on four hooves, with only one wing Red no doubt keenly felt the loss of all the places he would never be able to go. That he had apparently been in Dodge Junction for some time due to whatever circumstance only frustrated him even more.

Red was possessed of wanderlust, and had no way to exorcise the spirit within. Staying in Dodge Junction, he had fought by coming out into the badlands as a tour guide, the better that he could at least go somewhere, do something. No wonder he seemed accepting of the changeling race. As natural empaths, they could sense the natural frustration that had built up in his one-winged frame, with no way to vent it.

For him, to soar through the sky would be to fly upon the wings of freedom, wouldn't it? Trixie thought, then winced. That didn't come out quiet as poetic as she thought it would.

"Well, it is difficult to know really where to start. Obviously, it is cold in the north. The Crystal Heart provides a protective dome that goes to the outskirts of the city proper. Under the dome the city is climate-controlled, and kept at a moderate temperature. Our architecture was based on our ability to grow crystals, a magic I am told Equestria never was able to get the hang of, so after a thousand years the buildings look even more unique compared to the rest of the country."

"I heard they got that dictator guy, Somebra or something, good? Like, vapourised him?"

"Sombra, not Somebra. Most Crystal ponies do not like using his true name, and prefer calling him by his other epithet, the Witch King. But yes, he was defeated by our new Princess mi Amore Cadenza and a glorious dragon warrior, Spike the Saviour, presumably killed."

"Wait a minute, you don't think he was killed?" Noire suddenly asked, surprised at Iceheart's last few words.

Iceheart glowered at being interrupted, but took it in stride. "I said presumably killed. Sombra was a practitioner of dark magic and brought us into a thousand year stasis. I would not have put it past him to find a way to defy death. It is, I believe a more modern saying would be to hope for the best and prepare for the worst."

"Wise words to live by," Red said, nodding his head.

Iceheart continued, taking brief pauses to find words to say. "Outside of the city proper are the frozen wastes of the north. For many tens of thousands of hoof-lengths to the north, the terrain is mostly the ice flats, with ice and snow year-round. For a few weeks every year the air is warm, even as the ground continues to stay cold under your hooves. Even having lived up there for my entire life, it is still an odd sensation. The Windigos disappeared sometimes during our stasis, but they left behind fossilised remains that are magically capable of inducing cold fronts and snowstorms within a small localised area. To the far north and northeast of the Empire, approaching the end of the world, are the Everhoof and Crystalappleachian mountain ranges. While it is not my thing, I know a few ponies who have gone to scale the mountains. I would not recommend skiing there, however. It is simply too cold to do such a thing."

"I see, that sounds pretty, uh, cool. I am well-trained in survival, so I should not have too many issues with the cold. Well, what joints remain of my left wing ache sometimes in the cold, so that might be a problem. Oh, I see they've arrived."

Trixie, Iceheart and Noire all followed Red's gaze to see several black shapes hovering across the Gorge. As the black shapes honed in on them, they became the distinct appearance of the changelings, infamously immortalised in the papers following the failed invasion of Canterlot. A quick count put them at a dozen strong.

Trixie winced at the sharp feeling of envy from Red, as he no doubt wished he could be in the air as well.

One changeling took point, landing down several hoof-lengths away from the group of four ponies with an excited buzz. Iceheart had to briefly look away, though she was unsurprised that she was the only one to do so. Trixie and Noire both called changelings their deceased fathers, and Red had met them many times. She had only talked to a few in passing, more than a thousand years ago.

"If it isn't Red Wing," said the lead changeling. "One, two, three ponies you've brought with you today. What is their purpose here today?"

"Red Wing?" Iceheart turned back to face Red, not certain if she had misheard what the changeling had said or not.

"My full name, I typically go by Red," he said, brushing her question aside with a wave of his hoof. "Atlas, this is Iceheart, a pony from the Crystal Empire that returned from a magical spell a few years ago. She befriended a changeling from this hive back then. The changeling is most likely dead by now, but Iceheart would like to at least see the hive she hailed from."

The changeling, Atlas, clicked his mandibles together for a few seconds, sounding agitated. "And the other two?"

"They're here accompanying Iceheart, this is Trixie, and this is Noire. Moral support maybe, though they've been travelling with her for awhile."

Atlas whinnied. It sounded just like a pony's whinny, but coming from a changeling, it was just odd. "That is what they may claim, but what I feel from them now is deceit."

"What?!"

Red whirled around, and the feelings of anger and betrayal were evident to Trixie and Noire. "You lied to me?!" He asked. His muzzle was twitching with rage.

Trixie sought to get ahead of the situation and defray any tempers and paranoia that might surge. "Our fathers were changelings," Trixie blurted out quickly. "Noire and mine, anyway. They met and married mares, and we were their children. Her father and my father both came from here."

The mood instantly turned around, as Red's anger turned to confusion, and the tightly-controlled emotions of the changelings uncoiled into an excited mood, with many of them buzzing at one another.

"Were changelings?" Atlas asked. "What happened to them?"

"Ponies and changelings can have children?" Red asked, but his question went unanswered.

Trixie winced at the reminder of her father's death. Thankfully, Noire took up the slack for her. "Both of them were killed. Trixie's father was caught by an army patrol and was accidentally killed before he could prove he hadn't stolen another pony's identity. My own father died in a freak fall that also dispelled his disguise."

The mood of all present went somber at Noire's words. Only Iceheart and Red had some semblance of something else, Iceheart because she had already heard her companions' stories, Red because he was still apparently befuddled by the possibility of changelings and ponies having foals together. The changelings themselves as one felt remorse. Even if the two changelings had left the hive, they had still been a part of the hive once, and their deaths were something to grieve over.

"I don't sense any more deceit, and they are feeling intense sadness," Atlas suddenly announced. "Very well. Red Wing, have you told them about the procedure?"

"The, huh, what? Oh, the procedure?! Yes, yes, I did. Well, I don't know if it works differently on half-ponies, and Iceheart, her coat has magic from the Crystal Heart infused in it, I don't know if that does something either."

Atlas chattered for a brief moment, before he answered Red, "They aren't 'half-pony', it doesn't work that way, they're fully-pony. Lore about the Crystal Heart has been passed down over the years, and sleeping magic should not interfere with the crystalling effect. Ponies, Iceheart, Trixie, Noire." The changeling turned to face the three mares. He was no longer scowling as he had before, and instead looked interested. "We will use magic on you to knock you out and put you into a state of deep sleep, and take you to the hive while you are asleep. If you refuse, we will escort you away from the Gorge back to the area of Metamorph's Horn. While you are in the hive, you will be expected to give up some of your emotional energy as the price for entering. Trixie and Noire, you had changeling fathers, so you should understand how that works. Iceheart, we will give you advice on how to tell when you are becoming fatigued. When you are feeling drained, you must tell us so that we will back off. Is that understood?"

All three traded looks. They hadn't come this far just for nothing.

Atlas turned to face the last member of the quartet that had journeyed from Dodge Junction. "Red Wing, if what I am feeling now is any indicator, I assume you are also coming?"

Red nodded, and said, "Yes, that is correct."

"Very well. If you have any anti-magic training, do not attempt to resist this spell." Atlas turned to move away back into the host of changelings behind him, even as four other changelings moved out in front, each of them with a horn glowing.

It was difficult for Trixie to let down her natural defenses against magic, first trained at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns and then trained on the road as she dodged predators and hecklers. However, she had made it this far, and she did not want to be let down by a mishaps with her-

"Ah, so the unicorn awakes."

Trixie awoke slowly. To say she was groggy was an understatement. Grog was a funny word, and now it was as if grog was a physical substance, condensed into a fluid and weighing her head down to the floor. Still, even through the thick layer of grog that held her down, Trixie was still able to notice a few things. First, she was laying down on something rather soft, unlikely for the badlands. Second, wherever she was now was humid, even less likely.

That could only mean one thing, and it was that conclusion that inspired Trixie to finally pull herself up into a sitting position, resting most of her weight on her haunches. With one front hoof, she managed to wipe out the crust from her eyes, shaking off the lethargy that still pervaded her very being.

"Atlas told me about your stories while you were out. Red Wing, I can confirm that they are, in fact, each the child of a changeling."

"So then-"

"No, I apologise, but it is impossible for a pony to father a foal with a changeling. It is only the other way around that is possible, a changeling male with a pony female. I am treading the line already with how much information I am willing to give out, even to you, but there are certain magical and biological impossibilities for you as a stallion. If only you were a mare."

There was silence for several seconds, which Trixie used to open her eyes, adjusting to the dimmer lighting of the cavern she knew herself to be in.

"If you ever desire to live here, you are more than welcome. The emotions you give us would more than outweigh any burdens you may bring, including your mark, and one of the other mares may be willing."

"No, but thank you again for the offer. You know how I feel about it. I would love to, praise the world I would love to, but I still cannot help but think I would ultimately find myself dissatisfied."

The male voice was distinctly Red, or perhaps Trixie should call him Red Wing. Well, he preferred to go by Red, so that would be Trixie's go-to name for him for now. His voice, deeper than the normal pony with a slightly scratchy quality to it, was easy to pick out. It lacked the same verbal tics nearly all changelings in their natural state had, too.

Trixie had a good idea of who the female was, but there was just something off about the changeling Queen's voice. It was as if the Queen had two voices, simultaneously overlaid but out-of-sync with one another, creating an odd ringing effect in Trixie's ears, but there was still something even beyond that which Trixie could not put a hoof on.

"Ah, yes. Wanderlust, ennui, restlessness. A handful of changelings suffer from it as well, and leave the hive to go live out in the broader world. I suspect that is why the fathers of these two mares left."

Finally, Trixie's eyesight settled. Her vision no longer blurring, Trixie looked around the room, zooming over Iceheart, Red and Noire, all awake and standing, along with several changelings, before finally settling on the Queen.

Queen Chrysalis of the Badlands Hive sat upon a modest throne carved from rock. She towered over regular changelings both in body and in horn, standing on par with Princess Celestia. Her stature was exaggerated even more due to her sitting position on the throne, up on a pedestal. Unlike other changelings, she also had a teal mane resembling a pony's own hair. Finally, her green eyes were distinct from the blue eyes of others.

"So you're all awake now. That's good." Queen Chrysalis didn't so much buzz as she practically purred, and she asked, "So tell me, who were your fathers, and how did you come to decide to return to the hive they hailed from?"

Trixie blanked out. Here she was, finally face-to-face with the Changeling Queen her father had lived under before he left. She had a limb-length scroll's worth of questions to ask, and yet the only thing she could think of was, Why does her voice sound so much like mine?

Author's Note

Yes, Trixie made a voice actor joke about Chrysalis (they're both voiced in the English show by Kathleen Barr). It doesn't mean anything, there's not going to be any plot twist in the next chapter relating to it. I regret nothing.

The changelings here aren't universally antagonistic. They're willing to have limited cooperation, and a pony that comes to them of his or her own free will and provides lots of love will be gratefully welcomed. The changelings are still paranoid about outsiders, though. Much like how I poked a bit at the potential culture issues of the Crystal Empire and Dodge Junction, I will do the same for the changeling hive, so the next chapter will be longer than the first two chapters. Thankfully, the first two were short enough that even a long third chapter won't be such a pain to write in comparison.

While there are a number of badlands in the world, I live close to the Alberta badlands where a lot of dinosaur fossils are excavated, and so that is what I modelled this after. What Red here says about things is about 90% accurate.

Upon the Wings of Freedom: The Hive

Author's Note

If you have already read the chapter following this ('Red Wings'), then you will have already read this. The original chapter was very large, and so I have split it in half instead.

Upon the Wings of Freedom: The Hive

It was an odd scene in the throne room of Queen Chrysalis of the Badlands hive. The Changeling Queen sat upon a pedestal that wasn't quite proper enough to be called a dais. Several changelings stood around the room, each one at guard and ready to poke a pony at a single command. Meanwhile, Trixie found herself unable to form words, as her mind was still in a daze. She was certainly incapable of answering Chrysalis about her father.

Fortunately, Noire was far more composed. Since Chrysalis had spoken to the two of them in general, she had her own story on hoof. "My birth name is New Moon, but since I have started travelling, I have gone by Noire. My father was Incognito, which he shortened to Cognito upon leaving the hive. Later on in life, he preferred the nickname Cogs. When he left the hive, he worked for a short while in Dodge Junction. Cogs changed towns every few months, using a new pony form every time, learning new skills and picking up on pony culture. Eventually, he went to work in a clock store in Canterlot, where he found that he enjoyed tinkering with mechanical clockworks."

Though they stayed attentive to threats, the changelings were obviously interested in the story of their lost brother, focusing particularly on Noire. Trixie could feel the apprehension in the room, almost like a hum. "While working at the clock store, he was a pegasus. It was there that he met my mother, a bat pony named Frigor. After they went on a few dates, they fell in love. He revealed her true form, and she accepted him for it." Now there was a keen feeling of relief. "Bat ponies are a minority in Canterlot, and to be more easily accepted into mother's family, Cogs ditched his old job and form and became a bat pony. He was accepted by her family, and in the name of unity between bat ponies, they managed to get him a job with Canterlot's Royal Guard."

"Oh? Was he on active duty during the wedding?" Chrysalis interrupted.

Noire shook her head. "Neigh, he was on night shift duties at the time, and he was sleeping during the wedding. By the time his platoon was woken up to repel the other changelings, the fight was already over. There was a lot of paranoia in Canterlot following the wedding, but we had already gone through the detection spells in Canterlot's libraries years ago to make sure he could not be detected by standard methods. After the wedding, some of the unicorns came up with something more advanced specifically keyed for changelings. It took a lot of effort and it wasn't something we could ever scale up for all changelings, but we defeated that spell too."

"We?"

"I, I am a hybrid, your majesty. I wasn't born a unicorn like Trixie was, but I was still able to use magic on a limited basis, even if I didn't most of the time. I joined the Royal Guard as well, following in my father's hoofsteps, and I was out on patrol in east Equestria during the wedding."

"I see. Continue, then."

"Yes. Anyways, Cogs enjoyed working with mechanical objects, and he continued to even after joining the Royal Guard. It was a hobby he found himself fascinated with, and I think he would have eventually left the guard to open his own workshop." Noire paused, and everyone in the room except for Iceheart and Red Wing could feel her trepidation. "Only a few months ago, he was helping somepony replace the shingles on their roof. He tripped, and punctured his specular gland. I don't know if father died instantly, but he was dead by the time I found out about the incident. Because of laws passed after the wedding, my mother urged me to run away or else I risked getting court-martialled. I fled to a rural village where Trixie lived."

The mood in the room changed to one of overwhelming sadness, and Trixie nearly choked on it. Sadness was bitter, and she went down on two knees to support the rest of her body. Working in front of crowds was a thrill when the general mood was one of excitement. However, when Trixie did plays, she never did tragedies, and rarely lingered on the sadder parts of the plays she did do. Positive emotion was easy to handle. Trixie, however, did not have the innate tolerance to negative emotions that a changeling did, and so she risked being paralysed in front of a scene such as was in front of her.

Then Trixie realised that it was the sadness of the changelings at hearing about their brother's death, and she realised that she had yet to tell them about her own father's death. The thumping of her heart in her chest was almost palpable.

"An accidental death is never the way any changeling wishes to go," Chrysalis observed. "Still, I am glad to see that Incognito at least found a happy life, and had a daughter. Given your presence here, little miss unicorn, I assume my other son also had a daughter."

Trixie swallowed as the attention of the room was focused on her. While there were many sets of blue eyes staring at her, Trixie was acutely aware of the pair of red eyes right next to her. Somehow, they surpassed even Chrysalis' green eyes.

She took a few seconds to steady her breathing, before she launched into her own story. "My father was Cicada. Later in life he changed his name to Wooden Chisel. As you would expect, he took to working with wood. It wasn't just that, mind you. He enjoyed creating things, both practical items and artistic items, with stone and metal as well, but wood was his first and greatest passion. He truly loved it, and he built many unique pieces of furniture for the family home. In Manehatten, he met my mother, September Midsummer, a unicorn. Mother was beautiful." Trixie stopped to reminiscence. In life, her mother may have been dead for a decade, but Trixie had many pictures and even her own phantasmal spell to remember her mother's image. "She was a beautiful shade of orange and yellow, almost like the sun itself."

Trixie chuckled. "Father was a little bit unoriginal, though. Changelings have black chitin and shells, and he didn't change colours one bit when he began to live full-time as a unicorn. He had a jet-black coat, a mane only a shade lighter than that, and blue eyes."

"Yes, that does sound a little like the Cicada that I recall," Chrysalis agreed. "Odd that a pony so apparently creative with crafting things would fail to come up with something that was not so bland for his appearance. Besides, ponies are usually quite bright, with many clashing colours. Well, I suppose you are an exception to that, Red Wing."

"I always thought it was the most interesting thing about me," Red Wing said, but left his contribution to the conversation at that.

"Anyways, mother was a frail pony," Trixie continued. "She wasn't sick or anything, she just was never really that healthy either. Mother and father made the decision to move out to Whinnychester. It's a small farming village northeast of Fillydelphia that specialises in growing wheat. It was there they hoped the quiet village life and clean air would help my mother. My parents made friends there, and my father's skills were highly valued. Father, Wooden Chisel built a house, and it was there that I was born. I grew up there, but perhaps I inherited yet another one of father's things. I was restless, and left after I grew up." Trixie omitted the part about how she went to magic school, only for her attendance to be aborted by the one thing she despised about her hybrid status.

"I found a few ponies who taught me how to perform on the stage, and even apprenticed under a playwright for a year. I wandered Equestria, performing both magic shows and acting out plays in front of audiences, both in large cities and small hamlets. By the way, I believe that would be a viable career option for changelings. Any crowd that is satisfied by a performance will generate a lot of emotions," Trixie said as an aside. "Or maybe some are already playing in Manehatten on Broadway?"

"Perhaps," Chrysalis said, not giving a hint as to whether Trixie's guess was correct. There was the mild scent of interest from the crowd, however, and Trixie guessed one or two might even try their hoof at the art, now that she had presented the possibility to them. From what Trixie's father had told her, the hive had a fairly lax policy with its members leaving to achieve their own life goals, though it could have changed in recent years, given the failed invasion. A few minutes in the throne room telling her life's story wasn't enough to tell if that was the case. "But never mind that, carry on."

"Anyways, I traveled. Mostly in Equestria, but I left the nation's borders more than a few times, going to deer and zebra country. I suppose I might have even gone to the land of the minotaurs, but one of my shows went disastrously wrong and I lost my cart and many of my possessions and props with it. I went home at the time. By then, my mother had passed on, so it was just my father by himself in Whinnychester. I spent several weeks catching up with him, as we built a new wagon for my shows." Trixie sighed, dreading her next few words. "I didn't know when I left Whinnychester that that was the last time I would see him alive."

There was apprehension in the chamber, but not as much as there was before. Trixie had to hold in a sigh of relief at that. Perhaps hearing about the death of Cognito had already desensitised the changelings to the potential death of yet another former hive member. Trixie would take it. She did not believe she could fare the full brunt of sadness again that had washed through the room once already.

"Shortly after I left, my new wagon was destroyed by vandals. I'm ashamed to admit it but I, I was afraid of going home to see father again, full of shame that I had let something he had put so much heart and work into be destroyed. Instead, low on money, I went to work on a farm for several months." There was no question about it, Trixie was most definitely going to skip the Alicorn Amulet incident. "After some time, I decided to go perform at general shows where I did not need my wagon and props, as a stage was always provided to me. It took me over a year before I decided to return home to Whinnychester."

Trixie swallowed. Even now, two and a half years after hearing about her father's death from Doctor Morning Star, it still was difficult to think about. Trixie had finally recovered enough to go explore the world, but there was always that little filly deep inside her that raged at the loss of her father. "Following the wedding incident, the Royal Guard combed through most of Equestria to root out changelings. As Noire said, they came up with a new spell that could detect changelings. When they came to Whinnychester, they found one. My father panicked, and fled. I've never really asked for the details, but I was told a guard accidentally killed him when trying to capture him. His body was burned and the ashes thrown into the river some time before I got back to Whinnychester."

This time, there was sadness, but there was also rage. Death by an accidental fall was one thing. To be killed by a pony was something else. Yet despite how the changelings' emotions washed over Trixie rather like a large wave and threatened to drown her underneath, it also felt strangely liberating. Yes, this was what Trixie had needed. Trixie needed a roomful of others mourning her father's death, she needed to be able to really feel it. Perhaps, after time itself, this was the last salve she needed to move on past that fateful day two and a half years ago.

"There have been more than a few changelings who have been forcibly returned to the badlands," Chrysalis said. "So it is not the case that ponies have been indiscriminately killing my children, though they certainly do not seem to understand that not all changelings hail from the Badlands Hive, or perhaps even the concept that there is more than one hive."

So perhaps it had been an accident. Trixie had always assumed as such, but there had always been a niggling thought that the anonymous guard in question had deliberately killed her father. Chrysalis' words didn't settle it either, but now it seemed more unlikely.

"It is sad to hear that not one but two sons who left the hive should both meet unfortunate ends. Still, as it seems was the case with Incognito, Cicada appears to have also led a fairly happy life, if mostly uneventful, and found peace. Both their legacy continues, too," Chrysalis said, looking meaningfully at both Noire and Trixie. "I would much like to hear more stories about Incognito and Cicada, but that shall have to wait until later. Perhaps you will sup with me later. I would be curious to hear about the Crystal pony's life, too. You are the first one I have met, after all, and I was certainly not alive a thousand years ago. For now...Atlas."

"Yes, my lady," said one of the changelings, turning to face his Queen. With a start, Trixie realised it was the same changeling who had led the party that had put her to sleep. She suppressed her embarrassment, being in a room where all but two others could feel it. As she had only a few changelings between her father and her few 'uncles' to work off, it was difficult to tell the difference between changelings.

"All four of them have class two clearance. If they have an escort, the two daughters may enter class three areas. Is that understood?"

Atlas gave a brief bow. "Yes, my lady."

Chrysalis turned to face the pack of four ponies again. "As for you four...Red Wing, you already know as much, but be free with your emotions when you are in the hive! My children thrive off the goodwill and freely-given love of others. We will host you. In turn, we expect something out of it."

Trixie wrinkled her nose, taking a sidelong look at Iceheart. Well, perhaps the Crystal pony would have the chance later on to mention what she had done before leaving the Empire. Trixie was almost certain more than a few changelings would lavish her with hero worship upon finding out she had battled Windigos in the past.

Atlas turned back around to face the ponies. "If you will come with me, I shall show you to your quarters."

The four ponies walked down a tunnel which slowly sloped downwards. Red Wing was at the front, quietly conversing with Atlas, leaving Iceheart, Trixie and Noire to follow behind them, with three more changelings bringing up the rear.

Trixie took the chance to take a look around. The corridor itself was non-descript, having been dug out either out of the side of a hill or underground. More interesting were the ways the walls of the tunnel had been decorated. Somehow, the changelings had produced a luminescent material that they had slathered throughout the hive, with hues of red, blue and green that changed every so often as they continued walking. The sum of several hundred years if not thousands of years of changeling civilisation in the badlands was on display, with disparate pieces of art every few dozen hoofsteps. A vase was followed by a sculpture, then by a painting, by a bizarre piece of metalwork, then another painting. Trixie decided that if she were to ever return to the hive, it would be with a few of her father's remaining pieces. Wooden Chisel's memory deserved no less than for a few of his works to lie in rest at his birthplace.

After a short time, in which Trixie mentally counted the number of diverging paths that lead down other tunnels, easily hitting three digits, Atlas and Red Wing halted. There was a door on either side of where the two stood. The changeling turned around, assessing his companions briefly before he said, "This is where you will be staying while you are in the hive. Mares, on my left, Red Wing, to my right. You may leave your possessions here. Do you prefer a tour now, or would you like to rest up and wait until tomorrow? Keep in mind that Chrysalis is planning to sup with you tonight, so the tour will have to be brief."

Trixie traded looks with Iceheart and Noire. Noire took the lead and said, "We will stay here for now. When would you expect the meal to be at?"

Atlas suddenly let out a series of chirps. A few seconds later, one of the changelings behind Trixie chirped back. She nearly jumped, having just about forgotten about the other three changelings' presence. Atlas then said, "Supper will be in three hours, at seven p.m. There will be a clock in your room for you to keep track of time." Opening the door on his left side, he pointed his hoof inside, directing the mares.

Trixie walked in, following Iceheart and Noire, bemused. Her own father had very occasionally broken out into chirping, but it had always been in his natural changeling form. Considering how rare it was that he dropped his disguise, Trixie had no idea for just how often a changeling might chirp instead of using language as Trixie was used to it.

As she entered the area Trixie and her two marefriends would be living in for deities above only knew how long, Trixie set the saddlebags that she had been wearing since the early morning upon leaving Dodge Junction. Given Atlas' mention of the time, it was about four p.m., so the four had to have been unconscious for a few hours following their being intercepted by the changeling squad in the badlands. It was good to finally be free of that weight. At last, Trixie took a look around the room. There were no windows, but the far wall provided a significant amount of light by its luminescent dust. A curtain rod was installed against the wall. It was clear that at night, they would have to pull the curtain shut to block out most of the light to be able to sleep.

Other than that, the room was fairly spartan, closely resembling those of the hotels Trixie had occasionally stayed in. Four beds were scattered around the room with a large table in between, and there was a small kitchenette and washroom. There were a couple of paintings hanging from the wall. It was clear the changelings did not get very many visitors, and so they emphasised function over form with the quarters.

Noire poked her head out of the washroom. "Well, the good news is we have running water in here. The better news is it's actually warm!"

"Is that standard in this age?" Iceheart asked. "That is, to have warm, running water?"

"In most places, yes. In some smaller villages it's less common," said Trixie.

"I've missed out on so much, then. It truly will be great to see more of Equestria with the two of you," Iceheart mused, walking to the far wall and observing how the luminescent light played off her crystal coat. "Already I have seen the badlands and part of a changeling hive, even if it was just the one chamber and several corridors so far."

Trixie stopped, not daring to move as a full-body shiver washed through her. She had perhaps known it in some way from that first minute she had woken up from the Windigo ice and Iceheart had revealed her decision to leave the Crystal Empire and accompany her and Noire, but it was only now that Trixie was fully internalising it. She had given Iceheart a new lease on life, and the other pony was looking more alive by the day.

Trixie truly felt touched. For so much of her life she felt as if she had been drifting, learning and entertaining, but never really being more than somepony that was there. Even the worst incident of Trixie's life, the Alicorn Amulet, was likely to be relegated to history as a footnote, a stepping stone for somepony else. And then, in the space of a month, she had monumentally affected the lives of not one but two others, and was beginning to claw back her own life.

Then somebody knocked on the door, and Trixie was broken out of her reverie.

"I've got it," Noire announced. Testament to her being a pegasus with a hybrid heritage, her body failed to glow even as she cast the telekinesis spell. The result was evident, however, as the door swung inwards.

"Good evening, mares," Red said as he walked inside, nodding his head at each of them in turn. "I hope the accommodations are to your liking? The beds might be a little hard, but it's better than outside at least. The temperatures can drop to near-freezing at night, and the wind sometimes kick up sand and dust into your face when you're trying to sleep. It's always a nuisance to wake up to dry lips. That, and occasionally there's tumbleweeds, those are always a pain to get out of your hair after one runs into you."

"You're rambling, Red," Noire said in a deadpan tone. "Or should it be Red Wing?"

Red winced. "I don't like using that. Just Red is fine."

"This is related to that tornado, isn't it?" Trixie asked, then instantly regretted it.

Red sighed, pacing over to the table, taking a brief glance at a painting, a portrait of an unknown changeling queen, before turning around. "Yes, yes it is. I grew up in Steeds. Have you ever heard of it?"

Iceheart didn't even bother to answer, given her lack of exposure to the demography of the Equestria of present. Noire shook her head. Trixie, however, had. "A small town, southwest of Los Pegasus, isn't it?"

"Yeah, right on the southern border, but far to the west of here. It's a tiny town, really, I'm surprised you've even heard of it."

"I've traveled extensively," Trixie said. "I've never been to Steeds, but I have been to Grassplow nearby."

Realisation dawned on Red's face. "That would explain it. Anyways, I grew up in Steeds. It's a nice little village, but it's too far away from Los Pegasus and too small to really have any dedicated weather service. Pegasi are expected to help with their weight, but only to a point. Nopony expects you to be breaking up tornados alone." Red looked longingly down at his flank, where his Cutie Mark was, a pair of dark red wings enveloping the globe. "I got my Cutie Mark when I broke up my first tornado by myself."

Noire nearly choked. "Seriously? It usually takes at least a half-dozen ponies to dissipate one, often with magical back-up!"

Red chuckled, and he said, "Well, I suppose that it being my special talent helps. At least, that's how I had always interpreted it, y'know? Like a pair of wings protecting the planet below from wild weather. When there were large enough tornados to result in significant property damage and potential loss of life, we always let the weather crew out of Los Pegasus stop it. But small tornados could always cause some damage, and when I was a colt, I decided I wanted to stop even them from happening, before another farmer lost his crops or another family lost their house. Then I grew up and I did it."

As he was talking, Red had begun to pace, walking back and forth, his wing occasionally flicking out agitated. Even if Trixie couldn't sense his emotions, it was clear this was building up to something bad. "Those were the days, y'know? I was practically pampered by the town. How could I not be, when I was preventing so much damage every year by myself?" He sighed, and his lone wing suddenly drooped. "Then I got cocky, and I chased after something too wild for me to even tame. I stopped that tornado, sure, saved a barn at least, but it cost me my other wing."

There was an intense spike of sadness from the red pegasus as he looked at the nub on his left side. "They treated me well even afterwards, I said that before, but lots of them avoided me, especially the other pegasi. I was effectively a cripple. I could use my four hooves, but I would never be as effective as an Earth pony." Red wrinkled his nose, buried emotions playing out across his face before he ended with a scowl. "I took my savings and left Steeds, never to return."

"Then you ended up in Dodge Junction?" Iceheart asked.

"Not at first. Dodge Junction might be almost directly east of Steeds, but there isn't much even for small villages in between. Instead, I wandered through Equestria for a few years, staying in places a few months at a time, working odd jobs. Los Pegasus, Cartisle, Derby, Coltchester, Celestial Springs, Mareborough, and so on. It was when I was moving around Equestria that I realised I had always gotten my Cutie Mark wrong." Red took a look at his Cutie Mark again. "It's not about protecting the land from wild weather. It's about exploring Equestria, neigh, the entire planet. I have to do it on my own four hooves, however. It's a shame that I can't do it aloft on two wings."

"Upon the wings of freedom," Trixie blurted out, before she hastened to explain. "Sorry, it was just something that sort of popped into my mind earlier, and stuck there."

"Upon the wings of freedom," Red mused, repeating Trixie's words. "Not bad, I like it. It sounds poetic, I guess. Anyways, I brought you three here, so can you keep a secret?"

Trixie raised an eyebrow, but it was Iceheart who ended up speaking again. "If it has the potential to cause harm to others, then no. Perhaps large amounts of property damage too. If revealing it would save you in the future, then in that case, we could not expect to-er, I mean, yes, yes we can," Iceheart coughed slightly upon seeing Trixie and Noire's expressions at her, both of them asking Seriously? Her blush was fairly clear against her purple coat.

Red snorted, amused by Iceheart tripping over her words. "Eventually, I ended up in Baltimare. I was only there for a few days, before I was supposedly involved in a crime and they decided to try to take me in." He snorted a second time. "The idiots didn't seem to realise that if the witness spotted me, I have not one but two very distinct features that are impossible to miss in broad daylight." It was then that Trixie realised that even with his left wing removed, the tiny nub that emerged from his barrel still could twitch, and only the lack of a wing kept it from kicking up a gust in the room.

"So what did they do after they took you in?" Noire asked. Being a part of the Royal Guard that was sometimes deployed as a de facto military police, she was trained in civilian arrest, though she had never had cause to actually do so outside of the occasional drunkard.

"I said they tried to. It wasn't my finest moment." Red let out a whinny, before cutting it short. "Sorry, I get frustrated about it still."

"That's alright. What were you about to say?"

"Two guards decided I was a pony of interest who had taken place in a crime because I had a red coat. They got a pair of hoofcuffs on me before I knocked both of them out with my back hooves. Again, it wasn't my finest moment," Red said. "All I could think of at the moment was that if they took me in, I'd be locked up and unable to move around. I yearned to be able to feel the thermals under my wings, but a close second was to be able to go anywhere my four hooves took me. So I attacked them, and fled Baltimare that same day. Yet another place I've never returned to." He looked over at his left side once more. "Of course, even if it weren't for the fact my mane, coat and tail are pretty much all the same colour, I'm still missing a wing. There's no way I could blend in anywhere, so I quickly made my way south to Dodge Junction. Along the way, I dropped half my name and went to simply 'Red' to reduce the chance I might be identified by name alone."

"Where having only one wing actually turned out to be an advantage, in a strange sort of way," Trixie said, finishing his tale.

"Yep. Might even be that one of the sheriffs realise I'm wanted, but the town exists in its own strange equilibrium, and they try not to disrupt it unless it's for something that happens in the town proper. Somepony who knocked out a few guards in a town halfway across the country isn't worth taking in when he contributes to keeping the town stable."

"You make it sound as if the town is one arrested pony or potential changeling away from blowing up," Iceheart said.

Red said, "It's not that bad. I think everybody, yes, everybody, not everypony, is more aware after the failed changeling invasion of our border status with the changeling hive, or at least the only one that's attacked Equestria in hundreds of years. We're still paranoid about if our neighbors are truly ponies or not, but there's a belief that staying friendly and open to them could prevent or mitigate the possibility of another invasion." He sighed, looking weary. "From the changelings I've spoken to, that's even true."

"You know, that reminds me of something," Trixie said, then halted. What she was about to ask would be a highly personal question. After a second's judgement, she decided that if it had been aired out in the open, then Red wasn't too worried about others knowing about it. "I heard a little bit of what Queen Chrysalis said when I was waking up earlier. She said pony stallions cannot sire a foal with a changeling, only the other way around. Were you looking to settle down in the hive?"

There was a brief spike of indignation from Red, before it dissipated into the wide ocean of his feelings, leaving a few ripples before it disappeared entirely. "Something like that," Red begrudgingly said. "When the Queen spoke about my mark, that is what she was referring to, my episode in Baltimare. Even living in Dodge Junction still doesn't guarantee me complete freedom, you know. I've been here, to this hive, twice before. Both times, I spoke with Queen Chrysalis. She values ponies like me, who are willing to come to the hive and be cordial to changelings. Sh-she, she, erm, sorry," For the first time since Trixie had met him, the other pony actually seemed to be truly embarrassed, more than when he had whinnied earlier, practically stuttering, "She's tried to set me up with a couple of her changelings too."

Trixie tried to keep a straight face, but after a few seconds, let out a giggle. Trixie's giggle descended into a full-blown laughter, her lungs practically possessed as she let out all the anxiety she had been holding in the last few days. To her gratefulness, everypony else, even Red, joined in, though not as enthusiastically as her. "Ah, sorry Red," Trixie apologised as she calmed down. "It's just, Noire and I haven't even met Queen Chrysalis before. We knew a bit of her reputation from what our fathers told us about her, but other than that all we know was that she invaded Canterlot and was repelled. Finding out something like that was just really unexpected."

Red grinned, having gotten his laugh in too. "Yeah, I still find myself a little unnerved by her, too. But that information, well, it's not the deal-breaker, but I suppose I'd love to have a foal or two in the future to call mine." He sighed, something they had all been doing a lot of in the conversation. "I suppose the mares I've chatted with knew this as well, that I could not sire any, but no matter. I like to think I'm friends with several of them, such as Atlas. I don't know if it's a cultural thing that I simply can't bridge, but almost none of them can appreciate the desire to explore and wander like I do. I could tolerate being here for a few years before Equestria law enforcement forgets about me, but not for the rest of my natural life."

"The changelings that do have most likely left, like my father," Trixie said. "I heard the Queen say that as well. She is always willing to welcome them back, permanently or for a mere visit, but I know my father never returned once he walked out of the hive. If you wait for one of the mares who left to come back, you might be waiting for a while. And if you leave with her, that won't do anything for what Chrysalis wants, which is emotion generated within and retained by the hive."

"I know, I know," Red said, grumbling. "I won't begrudge her that, at least. That's why I have a standing offer to come and live here full-time if I ever choose to, even if it's because Equestria law enforcement finally caught up with me or something. Ha, they'd have to be quick about it. Once I get out into the badlands, even one of the guides would be hard-pressed to catch me."

"While this is all interesting to hear," Iceheart spoke up, looking at her mane in the mirror, removing a few pieces of plant matter that had presumably gotten into it while they were asleep, "Why did you come over here? I doubt it was to talk about you, that was just the way this conversation ended up."

"Oh, right. Thanks, I got sidetracked," Red said, briefly coughing. "Queen Chrysalis said she intends for us to have supper with her tonight. Trixie, Noire, you probably realise this by now, but changelings can survive on a minimum amount of food. Despite that, there are a few other ponies who live in the hive here, and so there will be edible food tonight."

"Edible meaning what? We can live on grass if we have to," Noire said.

Red raised his eyebrows. "Well, the changelings can eat the sage and shrub grasses, but they mostly subsist on plankton and seaweed that grows in underground cavern pools, which they nurture with the luminescent lights. To a changeling it might be palatable, but it's too bitter for my liking. But, um, never mind that. The two of you might have changeling fathers, and wow that sounds weird still to say to ponies. But even still, Queen Chrysalis isn't going to be 'nice'. She's a ruler, and she's still the one who decided to invade Canterlot. She'll attempt to trip you up, and make you say stupid things that reduce your standing in front of you. You have to be careful with your words, but you also can't be too late in responding or else you'll appear slow-witted."

Trixie let out a soft 'hmmm' of contemplation. "I think I should be overall fine. I've had more than a few hecklers in my life that I've easily turned aside. Besides, we only have three hours until we meet her again, that's no time at all to prepare. Although, if Noire and I wanted to get knowledge from her, really important knowledge, how would you recommend we do it?"

Red tapped the floor with his hoof a few times. "Try not to make it seem too much like a request, or else she'll grasp onto it and demand a favour in return. If what you seek could benefit her changelings in some way, impress that on the Queen and she'll be more open to bargaining." He sighed, and said, "I'm sorry I can't help you too much, I might be good at negotiating for fee of passage through the badlands, but the Queen is on a separate level. It's tough, too, when she can sense your emotions."

"Trixie and I can do that as well," Noire confided. "Not as well as actual changelings can, but we have some experience to it. It'll just be like when you and I were young and tried our best to keep our emotions hidden from dad, right, Trix?"

Trixie scrunched her nose at that, forgotten memories coming to the forefront.

Red looked briefly surprised, but didn't feel shocked. It was clear that he had been expecting at least one of the three to be able to sense his emotions since they had first met in Dodge Junction, even if it was because one of them might be a changeling, instead of two ponies who happened to have changeling fathers. "Well, in any case, I'm going to go catch a quick nap. I don't know if you've checked by now, but the quarters here have running hot water. Say what you will about the changelings, but they know their creature comforts."

"Yes, we've seen as much," Trixie said, before her eyes drifted over the beds and she realised something, "Wait, you have four beds all to yourself?"

Red just smirked, amusement radiating off of him as he left their room.

Iceheart was somewhat detached from the going-ons of the conversation as talk bounced between Chrysalis, Trixie, Noire, Red, and the remaining two patrons at the table, a pegasus mare and a changeling stallion. Trixie, Noire, and Red were seated on one side, with Trixie closest to the Queen, while the changeling and pegasus sat opposite. Even though there was an empty space on that side, Iceheart had been seated on the end of the table, directly opposite Queen Chrysalis on the other end.

Part of her apathy was because much of the others' idle chatter was about going-ons of the present day, which Iceheart was still ignorant about. She had felt foolish when she had at last realised that nobody at the table ever called the Changelings' attack on Canterlot 'the invasion', instead preferring to refer to it as 'the wedding', after the royal wedding that had taken place that day. Or perhaps she had been astute to finally realise it, after less than an hour of everybody dancing around it? She had been groomed by Sombra to repel Windigos, not foreign dignitaries.

The other part was that Iceheart had decided to observe the actions of the remaining pair, who were obviously together. Iceheart could not detect emotions like more than half the beings in the room, but it was obvious the mare, a white-coated pegasus named Silver Star, was in an extremely good mood. Given the way Hercules, the changeling stallion, was fawning over the mare and occasionally rubbing her stomach, Iceheart took a stab and guessed she was pregnant.

She hated being in the dark like this. Trixie and Queen Chrysalis especially seemed to be engaged in the royal art of wordplay, and Iceheart could only decipher every fifth sentence they said. Iceheart felt that she was actually doing better than expected, but that only underscored just how far she had to go to keep up, if she even wanted to keep up. After a while, she would grow fatigued of listening in, and turn her attention to the interspecial couple. Iceheart wondered why they were there. Queen Chrysalis must have known of the new foal and brought the two in for something. To show to Trixie and Noire that even now, new hybrids were still being born? As a gesture of friendliness, maybe, or was there a more sinister motive?

Iceheart let all those thoughts stew in her mind as she nibbled at her food. The main dish was a stringy pasta, lathered in a buttery sauce that had a hint of lemon to it. For the Crystal pony, who had subsisted on bland foods for years, the sauce was rather rich, and she had to space it out with the other dishes, such as a cream of mushroom soup distilled from mushrooms grown in the cavern; grass boiled long enough to remove the bitterness, mixed together with sliced tomatos and chopped onions, with a mildly spicy vinaigrette dressing over top; and a sweet dish of mostly liquid, with a few pellets of dough in the liquid. That last dish had a light brown gleam to it, and the doughballs tasted a little like milk. Iceheart wondered how the changelings had gotten milk when the nearest community was Dodge Junction, or if they perhaps had cows here in the hive as well.

Maybe the pregnant Silver Star's presence was because of her emotions. All changelings and changeling hybrids in the room would be able to feel the pregnant pegasus' positive emotions, acting as a buffer against any frayed tempers or social missteps. Iceheart liked that idea best of all, but she couldn't shake the feeling that the Queen might have been using Silver Star as a tool to weaken Trixie and Noire, while she herself was relatively unaffected.

Silver Star and Hercules were talking to each other, occasionally taking fond nips at one another, but it was clear there was only one conversation at this table worth listening to. Iceheart turned back to focus on Trixie and Queen Chrysalis.

"I am curious, Queen Chrysalis," Trixie said, having smoothly segued in from an earlier conversation praising the changeling chef who had prepared the meal, though Iceheart had missed all but the last of that topic, "If Silver Star is any indication, your hive will soon have a pony with a hybrid heritage, if you don't already have any living here. How many hybrids do you think there are out there?"

Queen Chrysalis stopped and looked as if she was thinking. Iceheart doubted it was over coming up with an estimate to Trixie's question. "Probably the low hundreds. My hive does not keep close track of those who leave and if they have children, so while I know of two other hybrids, I did not know of your existences until you came earlier today. There are seven hybrids in the hive currently, and with those other two, you would make eleven known living hybrids related to the hive. Then I would guess there are a similar number in each of the other hives."

"I see," Trixie said, before taking a sip of the liquid part of the syrupy doughball dish. "You know, my father always had a little bit of a difficult time in teaching me magic. Externally-shaped changeling magic and unicorn magic are fairly similar, but different in enough ways that I always had to adjust for his lessons. Do the hybrids living here do much of that? Training in unicorn magic, that is. For that matter, training in all three fields of magic."

Queen Chrysalis narrowed her green eyes, and Iceheart reckoned the changeling monarch could see where the conversation was going. Nevertheless, the Queen allowed herself to be led down that path. "Not every pony does. Pegasus magic is near useless for those who are born as unicorns and Earth ponies, outside of easier elemental manipulation and being able to read the weather better."

"That's a shame," Trixie mused, finishing off the last of her pasta dish. "Something I've been working hard on over the last month is self-levitation, and I had wondered if pegasus magic might give me a boost in that field, or if I could do something extra with it once airborne that I couldn't on the ground."

Chrysalis' eyes widened this time, visibly impressed. "Self-levitation? Even I don't know how to use it. I can only recall two of my children who ever did. One did it out of academic interest."

The two were silent for a few seconds, and Trixie fidgeted, seeming to be unsure whether to ask about the other changeling.

Fortunately for her and for Iceheart's curiosity, Hercules turned away from Silver Star's belly long enough to ask, "The other one was the wingless changeling, wasn't it, your Majesty?"

Iceheart tried to read Chrysalis' face this time, but got nothing out of it. "Yes. His name was Icarus. He had wings at one point, and flew many times in his youth. Outside of immortals, he went the furthest into the sky of any being I know."

"Even higher than dragons?" Noire asked, frowning.

"Yes, even higher. He was a proud one, Icarus was," Chrysalis said, and now she was glowing with pride. Her mood didn't last long, as she continued to recount the changeling's tale, "But later in life, he succumbed to a rare wing disease, one that caused his wings to shrivel up and required them to be amputated."

"Wait, he couldn't just transform it away?" Red asked, and all attention at the table turned to him. Ah, of course, Iceheart thought. Didn't he claim before that if he were a changeling, a lost wing would have meant nothing to him?

"That is usually the case," Hercules said, picking up the slack for the Queen. Even as he did, he hugged his pony partner. Iceheart supposed Silver Star, being a pegasus, was feeling a little anxious over a tale about an equine who lost his wings, even if the equine in question happened to be a changeling and not a pony. "There are, however, a few rare magical diseases that affect even our transformation abilities. Some disrupt our capacity altogether. Others, however, are stranger in that they only prevent some aspects of shapeshifting. Perhaps any shape you take will always be colour-blind, or maybe you'll always have freckles, no matter what species or form you change into."

"That is correct," Chrysalis said. "For a changeling, losing one's wings would be humiliating, but he still had his magic. No small number of changelings rarely fly, and it was not as if he could not still be useful as a farmer or an energy-gatherer. However, Icarus yearned to return to the sky. After a few years, he learned to levitate his body, and flew by his horn rather than his wings for the rest of his days." The queen shrugged nonchalantly. "He and the other changeling both wrote down how to do it. The technique involved is fairly novel, but requires a decent amount of time and effort to lose. Since any changeling could turn into a flying creature, no other changeling ever bothered to learn it."

"I would love to be able to read their writings so long as I am here," Trixie said, finally going for the jugular on one of her goals while not leaving Chrysalis too much of an opening.

"Ah, yes. Speaking of which, how long are you planning to stay here?"

"We aren't entirely certain of that yet," Noire spoke up. "When Trixie and I left her hometown, we decided to go travel around Equestria, with the Badlands Hive as one of our first destinations. Before we went, however, we went up to the Crystal Empire."

"They'll be paying me extra for each day we stay over," Red mumbled, though everypony else ignored his comment. Money was not a polite topic to be spoken of at this table.

Chrysalis snorted. It was the first time Iceheart had heard the Changeling Queen do something even remotely undignified, but Chrysalis' words justified the action. "You went to investigate the Crystal Heart, didn't you? When the Empire reappeared, of course I sent a few of my own children. It was a nice idea, but just that: an idea. It gave my agents a moderate ambient boost, but nothing that could sustain an entire hive."

"Perhaps," Noire allowed. "However, while exploring, we heard about a fort north of the Empire that was locked in stasis along with the city proper, where ponies who fought Windigos a thousand years past were stationed."

"Windigos?" Chrysalis asked, perking up and suddenly at attention. "And what did you-oh. Iceheart, was it? You were one of the soldiers there?"

Iceheart nodded. The sudden respect Chrysalis was showing her was not unexpected, going off what little she knew about the old animosity between Windigos and changelings. "I was more than a soldier, however. I was the lead commander on base."

"Truly?" Chrysalis scrutinised Iceheart even closer, giving Iceheart a heavy appraisal. Iceheart didn't mind too much. Outside of the Crystal Empire, where many tarred her name, she doubted there were many creatures alive that would devalue her experience with Windigos. "Well, I wish you had told us earlier. You would have been an honoured guest."

"I had considered it," Iceheart admitted, "But I decided that visiting the hive was more for Noire and Trixie to resolve their own issues."

Chrysalis nodded, "I see. At the very least, however, I will give you the same clearance as they have. Although..." The Queen trailed off, before narrowing her eyes again, "You're obviously no longer up there. What made you decide to leave?"

"I don't know if you've heard of Windigo Ice or not. It's the fossilised remains of Windigo bodies turned corporeal, becoming a substance that strongly resembles ice. It's capable of altering weather patterns in a localised zone around it, causing snowstorms and drastic temperature drops."

"My own mother indeed heard of it, though I was not born until after the last Windigo left," said Chrysalis, raising her hoof to her forehead. "No, let me guess how this goes. You had this Windigo ice somewhere outside your castle, you decided to stay as the commander so long as it was there, but then it was destroyed, and you felt you could finally leave."

"Wow. That was surprisingly accurate," Iceheart exclaimed. "How did you know?"

"You've missed out on a thousand years of culture, Iceheart," Trixie said, taking a sip from her water. "No offense, but anypony who's read even a moderate amount of fiction could have probably guessed that once you talked about the ice."

"Oh," said Iceheart. Well, that shot down her theory that there might have been a changeling spy that got the news back quicker to Chrysalis than the three mares who had taken a train south from the Crystal Empire to Dodge Junction.

"I am curious, however. As I recall, destroying Windigo ice required the power of the Crystal Heart, which always caused the dome to fall while the Heart recharged. Yet I have not heard any reports of the dome falling. What am I missing? Was the ice perhaps so small that it did not require as much energy?" Chrysalis asked.

"Windigo ice degenerates naturally over time. I am not exactly well-studied on magic, but I believe that the magical half-life is one of the basic principles of long-term spells. In this block's case, however, it was the second-largest block I have ever seen in my entire life, and even several hundred years did little to cause it to decay," Iceheart said. She struggled to keep her anticipation under control. The three mares had rehearsed for this moment, and it would not do to warn Chrysalis ahead of time by getting excited. "Of course, I was not largely responsible for its ultimate end. It is Trixie over there who deduced a spell to destroy the ice block without taking down the dome in the process, and she actually managed to cast it."

For the first time, Chrysalis was at last taken aback. "Oh, is that true, Trixie?" She asked the blue mare, sitting at her side.

"Yes, it is. It was more of a moment of inspiration than anything, but I had most of the groundwork from another spell that I was able to modify." Trixie paused, looking unsure of something, before she added, "It was the most intense magic I have ever cast in my life. I am glad that I am a hybrid, in many ways. In that moment, the extra magic was the only thing that allowed me to complete the spell, and I even had to borrow some from Noire to fully cast it. But it erased the entire block in the process, not just most of it."

"Curious and curiouser," said the Queen, looking thoughtful. No pony or changeling around the table dared interrupt the queen from her musing. Minutes passed, and Iceheart dared to eat the rest of her food before it cooled off. She had never thought to ask about the changeling palate, though Red had mentioned a little bit about it earlier. The food was good. Was the changeling chef who cooked it able to taste-test it in her natural form, or did she have to change into a pony to appreciate it?

At last, Chrysalis spoke again. "You've been wanting to know about what talents a hybrid has that a regular pony would not, correct?"

And there it was, out in the open. "Yes. I have some talent with illusions. I wonder if I inherited that from my father," Trixie said.

"Hmm. Unfortunately, I cannot help you there too much. It is not as if it was a topic of particular interest, outside of being able to use the magic of all three tribes," said Chrysalis. "But I am sure she would know everything all the hives have collected on hybrids."

Noire shuddered. "You mean her?"

"Yes, her. You would have to go to Colt Springs. She has mellowed out in her old age, but she is still as sly as ever. She likely remembers the Windigos, however, and would be pleased to hear even their remains are gone from this planet."

Iceheart found herself confused. Who was this 'her' they were talking about? The active conversationalists seemed to dance around the topic, dropping tantalising hints, but never outright saying who she was. She supposed this mysterious being was a changeling, an old one by the sounds of it, but nothing more than that.

Trixie sighed, and she said, "I suppose we will have to head west, then."

Noire, Trixie, and Chrysalis took that as the natural end of that topic, each choosing to finish the rest of their meal.

Conversation resumed as a changeling suddenly came in, carrying a tray with seven glasses. Six of the glasses had an identical pale gold liquid in them, while a seventh had milk in it. Ah, Iceheart thought, her suspicion confirmed as the milk was floated down to Silver Star. Chrysalis is being careful about the new foal even now.

"Cheers," Chrysalis said, raising her glass with her magic, "To Silver Star and Hercules and their foal-to-be's good health."

"Cheers," Everybody else said, clinking their glasses together before drinking.

The dawn of a new day found Trixie in the library, fortunately without an escort. The library was fairly voluminous, with a large ceiling dug out combined with some nifty architecture to keep moisture out of the room. The room was nearly circular, with just a slight elliptical curve to it, and Trixie had wandered around the inner sections of the bookshelves past the fiction and the history right into the magic section. It took her a while, however, as she made idle conversation with several changelings on the way there, many who wanted to know more about her travels and her father. There was even a grey-coated Earth pony mare, though Trixie did not know if she was truly a pony or merely a changeling getting some practice in with her pony form.

It was after having to parry an overenthusiastic changeling who Trixie was certain was more interested in Trixie specifically than her adventures or her father's life that she at last made it to the magic section. After a few more minutes of endeavor, she found a copy of Icarus' notes.

"The Wingless Changeling, huh," Trixie said as she held the book, binded in a red cover with gold printing. "Did he come up with the name himself, or did others give it to him? Oh well, let's see," She said aloud as she perused the book. Trixie was not too worried about talking to herself in the library, given the acoustics. Changelings were less bothered by background noise than ponies were, too.

Trixie found herself fascinated by Icarus' book, a combination of a journal, an autobiography, and a guide to his spells. The changeling had created a couple of novel spells in his day, such as a limited echolocation spell. Trixie skimmed over those. While a few of them may be useful in the future, she was more interested in his writing on self-levitation.

After finally getting past his section on how he lost his wings, and having to hold her tears, Icarus at last talked about developing his self-levitation spells. Trixie let out quiet 'ooh's and 'aah's as she marveled at his ingenuity, combining separate spells together to create a new one. Taking the book over to a table, she set it down, and let her mind wander.

There was a subtle difference between changeling and unicorn magic, as she had mentioned at the dinner the night before. One of Icarus' spells, a magnetism spell, had no unicorn equivalent that Trixie knew of. She wondered if there was in fact one that she just did not know of, or if the other unicorns who were capable of self-levitation had come up with alternate routes to creating their spells. High-level unicorns were greedy about spells they developed, usually hoarding them and only teaching them to families and apprentices, if that. One only had to look at the newest princess and how she refused to share details of the spell that had triggered her ascension.

"On the other hand, maybe that is wise," Trixie mused aloud. "Perhaps if others cast it they would become alicorns too, and goodness knowns the Princesses don't want alicorns to be dime-a-dozen."

"What's that about alicorns?"

Trixie nearly jumped out of her seat, and almost slammed her book shut while she was at it. Looking up, she saw Red standing against the table across from her, and she took a quick breath to calm herself down. "Oh, it's just you."

"Ah, did I scare you? Sorry."

"That's alright. I was just looking at this book and got to thinking," said Trixie.

"About what?" Red asked, looking down at Trixie's book and failing to read the text from his upside-down view.

"About the direction my life has gone, sometimes, I suppose," Trixie said. "I feel as if life was unfair to me."

Red snorted, but kept his voice low, mindful of his location. "Unfair? Sorry, Trixie, but life is unfair to all of us. I-" He broke off, looking at his left wing, "Sometimes life is unfair, and you really can't do anything about it. All you can do is try to move on, and struggle against anybody or anything that tries to keep you down."

"I have," Trixie said. "It, it just feels as if my life has been some cosmic chewtoy at times."

Red sighed. "Do you want to talk about it? I heard about your father, and your mother, too. I suppose it's hard, wasn't it? You couldn't even tell anypony about your father's true identity, and the fact that who they killed was in fact your father, and not a changeling that took his identity."

Trixie was surprised. He understands me, she thought. Trixie didn't know why. Perhaps it was because she was already deep within a changeling hive, where almost every creature there could sense your emotions. Perhaps it was because given the secrets he already knew about her, revealing more of them wouldn't hurt as much. Or maybe she just felt a shared kinship with Red, each of them knowing both loss and the feeling of wanderlust, the need to keep moving, the excitement of never knowing where your four hooves would next take you. Trixie decided to tell him.

"Do you know what the colour of my magic is?" Trixie asked.

The pegasus stallion blinked. It was a weird motion, Trixie thought to herself, given his red eyes so easily blended into the rest of his red coat and mane. "Pink, isn't it?" He asked. "If you want to be fancier, maybe magenta or something?"

"Just pink. I've never needed to call it anything more than that," said Trixie. Though some of the more vain unicorns I've met have had some fancy colours to describe their aura, she silently added. "A unicorn's magical aura is fixed throughout her life. It never changes, even if she breaks her horn down to the root and it regrows completely."

"Hmm? Yeah, I guess that's true. I don't ever recall anypony I know having their colour change," Red said, speaking his words slowly, not certain where Trixie was getting at.

"My magic was green when I was younger."

Red's head jumped up from his slouched position, looking more at the table than Trixie, to face Trixie directly in the eyes. "What? But how?" Realisation dawned on him before Trixie even had a chance to answer. "It was because you're a hybrid, wasn't it?"

Trixie nodded. "Yes, at least, that's what we believe. My magic changed colours." And it wasn't even the last time it did that, but the less Trixie thought about the Alicorn Amulet, the better. She sighed. "If I had been living in Whinnychester, it would have been a fairly innocuous change. There are not too many unicorns there, and those who do wouldn't even realise the significance of such a change. Unfortunately, I wasn't in Whinnychester at the time. Instead, I was enrolled at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns in Canterlot."

Red's eyes were wide open now. While Trixie didn't expect him to be fully familiar with unicorn magic, he at least appeared to understand the ramifications. "What happened?"

"I was living with Noire's parents at the time, instead of at the school dorms. We lucked out, because the first time I cast magic after my aura changed, I was at their place." Trixie sighed wistfully, looking at the book. She wondered if she would have learned how to do this had she managed to stay for the full time at the School for Gifted Unicorns. "Maybe we were paranoid, but what happened is done now. I immediately dropped out and left Canterlot a few days later. Ever since then, most of what I've learned has been self-taught, with bits and pieces taught to me by other generous unicorns I met on the road."

"Would finding out your magical aura colour changed really lead to others finding out you were a hybrid?" Red asked.

"We don't really know. Like I said, maybe we were paranoid, but it was a case of better safe than sorry. I'm still a little sad, and bitter, however, that I never got to learn any more magic at the School from the professors, perhaps even from the princess herself." Instead, I ended up being used as a stepping stone, twice, for a pony who was trained directly by the princess and became one herself.

Trixie viciously repressed that line of thought. She was willing to admit she was jealous, but there was nothing that could be gained by dwelling on it.

"That wasn't it, was it?" Red asked, and Trixie looked back. "There's more to your tale than that still, right? Again, I heard your story back in the throne room yesterday. You lost your mother when you were young, your father was killed, and you lost two of your carts, one to a show gone wrong, and one to vandals. Huh, that does sound like a rough life." He frowned, tapping the table gently with a hoof. "But there's still something more to it that you haven't mentioned yet."

Wow, he's observant. Maybe his calling should have been as a detective instead of a guide, Trixie thought. She mused idly about his red eyes, indistinguishable in their shade of red from the rest of his body. A unicorn's magic was often the same colour as her eyes. Trixie had thought herself unusual to have green magic, right up until they turned to the same pink as the hue of her irises. There was no doubting what the colour and shade of Red's magical aura would be if he was a unicorn.

"You're right. There was something else," Trixie said. She closed her eyes. It was a weak defense mechanism, but somehow she felt safer reciting this with her eyes closed as opposed to looking ahead at Red. Either way, her ability to sense emotions wasn't something she could shut off, and it would be difficult to repress in something like this. She would know how he felt. "When I was travelling and performing shows, there was a mare. She was at the show that went wrong. Two...colts couldn't tell the difference between a story and a real life, when I embellished tales of myself fighting monsters. What kind of pony in real life outside of the princesses would be able to fend off an Ursa Major?"

"An Ursa Major?" Red said breathlessly. "Aren't they so tall that they reach the stars?"

"That's a myth," Trixie said, waving her hoof. A second later she scolded herself for being so careless, given she couldn't even see where the table was with her eyes closed. "Regardless, a real Ursa Major is so enormous that no normal pony could possibly hope to challenge it. Two colts somehow got it into their head to run off into the Everfree Forest and find an Ursa Major, and lure it into town and get me to fight it off. They didn't even succeed at that, thankfully. What they found was still the size of several houses stacked on top of one another, but you can still look an Ursa Minor in the eye."

"The Ursa was what destroyed your cart?"

"Yes, that's correct. All my props were gone, and it was my living space, so I had to live outdoors for a night until I returned home. I wasn't foolish enough to keep my life's savings in there, but it still took some time to get the paperwork processed to withdraw from my bank accounts again. But anyways, there was a mare there. I had just performed a show earlier, using up much of my magic, and I was in a panic, having just seen my home crushed in front of me. I retreated with the two idiots. But I still had a plan. I'm a hybrid, remember. It's more than just about us being able to sense emotions like regular changelings can, we can also harvest emotions."

"That would be very useful if you were doing plays with magic," Red observed. "Use magic, get the crowd excited, take some of their excitement to stay topped up on magic. Clever girl."

Were Trixie a pegasus, a griffin, or some other creature that was part-bird, she would have preened right there. As it was, she was mildly annoyed at being interrupted, but brushed it aside. "Yes. I planned to turn around and vanquish the Ursa Minor in one blow, expelling it from town and sending it back into the Everfree Forest. The entire town would have been so grateful to me, I could have feasted on their adulation for days." Feeling a slight tinge of disapproval from Red, Trixie added, "You might think it a little manipulative, but I felt like I was born for the stage. Doing little tricks to get them into a low vibe only to pull something out to get them roaring with approval was my sugar high." The disapproval disappeared, and Trixie felt relieved.

"And that didn't happen, by the sounds of it," Red continued for Trixie.

"Yes, that is correct. That mare stepped in, and stole my thunder. She managed to banish the Ursa Minor from town. I was caught flat-hoofed, panicked, and fled." Trixie sighed. "Word got out that I was a coward and a liar, omitting the fact that I was a stage magician and playwright who is supposed to tell stories and that I fought against the Ursa Minor, and my good name was mud after that. I didn't realise that until I attempted to perform again with my new cart, and after a few shows the cart was vandalised and ultimately wrecked. That really hurt me hard, but it hurt even more when I returned home a year later and realised it was the last thing my dad and I ever worked on together." Trixie had to bite her lips and tongue to keep from crying, and she squeezed her eyelids even more shut.

There was a strong, tangy feeling of sympathy from the other pony, and Trixie took what she could get. What emotional energy she had collected since her experiences on the northern ice flats wouldn't have been enough to fill up a magical wading pool. "You don't have to continue if you don't want to," Red said.

Trixie wanted to, oh how she desired it. But she felt she had gotten far enough with telling her life's story to yet another pony that she should take the last step. She opened her eyes, blinking out her tears. "No," Trixie said, keeping her voice steady, "I'll tell it."

"After my second cart was vandalised, like I said, I went to work on a farm. What I didn't mention before was that it was a rock farm."

Red choked. "How-how does that even work?" His ears were twitching in a frenzy. Trixie was unsure if it was because of surprise or restrained laughter.

"It was an Earth pony family. They turned over rocks at certain times of the day and in such a manner that they collected natural energy from the planet itself. It's how gems form underground. With some know-how, it's possible to speed up the process and get gems of a large size and more flawless cut. The family was reasonably well-off, and they paid good, but they didn't care to spend two bits on anything that seemed even slightly fancy."

"I see," said the red stallion, nodding in enlightenment.

"Anyways, it paid well, but it was really boring work. I worked in Whinnychester, a wheat farming village, as I grew up after I left the School for Gifted Unicorns. I wasn't afraid of manual work, and I had come up with many mental exercises over the years to pass the more dull periods. But rock farming was something else entirely, and none of the ponies I worked with made decent conversation. Three of them were completely obsessed with rocks, one of them was always angry, and the other was the shiest pony I've ever met. That was dangerous. It let my mind wander, and all too soon I decided I wanted revenge on that mare."

Red narrowed his eyes, and both distrust and dread leaped to the surface. "What did you do?" He asked, as a touch of nervousness settled in as well.

Trixie brought a hoof up, biting on the side of it for a few seconds before she finally spoke. "With the money I had earned, I went to an artifacts shop, and found a rare magical artifact. A dark magical artifact," She emphasised.

There was a brief spike of alarm from Red, and an increasing sliver of dread, but he stayed silent, waiting for Trixie to continue. "It was called the Alicorn Amulet. It gives the wearer a boost in magical power and makes spells far easier to cast. At long last, all the spells I knew the theory for but could never perform with no teacher to help me, such as age spells or complex transmutation spells, they were no longer impossible. I just thought it, and I could shape the magic and cast them through my horn as easily as casting a basic levitation spell. The world was my oyster, and I used it to embarrass her in front of all her friends, before exiling her from town."

"That was going a little bit too far, don't you think?" Red asked, frowning.

Trixie retorted, "That's why it's called a dark magical artifact! I was hardly the pinnacle of rationality at the time! I'm sorry, that was uncalled for of me."

Red responded with a wave of his hoof, a commonly understood signal to let bygones be bygones.

"Anyways, I went mad with power, and soon had the town remade in my own image. Only a few days later, however, she returned, getting training from a zebra shaman who lived in the Everfree forest of all things. She turned me own flair for trickery against me, and claimed to have found an artifact even more powerful than the Alicorn Amulet. Thankfully, I was foolish, and I-um, did I mention that the only way you could remove the Alicorn Amulet was for the wearer to do it herself? I don't think I did, but that's one of its functions. I was foolish, thankfully, and decided to steal her artifact, a necklace, and switch it out with my amulet. I'm glad for that, because I shudder to think of what I might have done if I had kept the Amulet on any longer."

Trixie rubbed her hooves together, looking down at her book. "But even a few days was enough. Dark magic has a way of taking its toll on a user. I haven't touched another artifact since, or even thought about tinkering with dark magic, but even now, three and a half years later, I still wake up with nightmares in the night."

Red raised an imperceptible eyebrow. "Really? I had heard Princess Luna helps ponies with bad nightmares. I would expect she would make a pony suffering from nightmares caused by dark magic a high priority."

Trixie snorted. "Maybe, but I have my doubts."

"Oh? Why, who was that mare you attempted to take your revenge on."

Trixie sneered, and she said, "She was the newest Princess of this realm, in the two years before she ascended."

This time, Red's dominant emotion was shock, painted out across his entire face, from twitching ears to raised eyebrows to wide eyes to a mouth hanging open. "Wha-uh-uh-" He stuttered, letting out the occasional noise in between moments of awed silence.

"If you leave your mouth hanging open, you'll catch flies," Trixie teased him in an effort to break up the awkward tension resulting from her revelation.

Red shut his mouth, but it took him a while longer to get the rest of his body under control. At last, he spoke again. "You mean Pri-"

"Don't speak her name!" Trixie hissed. "Sorry, but I've tried hard not to even think about it."

"Really?"

Trixie nodded. "Yes, really. I know that sounds petulant, but please, try to look at it from my perspective. I've spent my entire life fascinated by magic, but had my time at school interrupted by something beyond my control. Even then, I struggled to teach myself magic. I sweated, bled, even pushed myself until I fainted from exhaustion sometimes. Later, I found a passion for the stage, which I worked hard at. Those two things were my life. For her, however? I imagine I was a roadblock, something that merited a couple of learning experiences for her on her way to becoming an alicorn Princess."

Red blinked, and Trixie could feel his concern for her. She was done, however. It wasn't anywhere near all of it, but she had expelled some of the toxic loathing she had built up in her venting. One day, she would have to find a more permanent solution, but for now, Trixie felt better already.

"That's a..." Red trailed off, and it was apparent he was trying to be delicate with his words. "That's a fatalistic way to take things. I'm sure it was just a really bad coincidence."

"I agree. I don't like thinking that it was some sort of 'destiny' like some of the upper-class ponies always like to talk about," Trixie said, her voice full of scorn. "Of course, if destiny does exist, I suppose I'd like it in a physical form in front of me right now so I could buck it in the face."

"You wouldn't like being able to blame your actions against Pri-uh, her on destiny?"

"Absolutely I would, but it'd also mean that my bad luck throughout my life was also a result of destiny. More specifically, destiny deciding that every time I get a good thing going, that I would need something disastrous to set me back a few more years," Trixie said. She wished she could stop, but her tongue decided it needed to add one last scathing remark. "The same would go for the loss of your wing."

"Oh. Oh," said Red, and she could feel his exuberance sink like a three-wheel wagon in a large mud puddle. "Yeah, that would do it. I'd be angry at destiny too in that event."

"But I prefer it doesn't exist," Trixie said. "It would mean some of the bad things I did were me own fault, yes, but also that when I bounced back each time, it was all me. I learned magic, I reformed my reputation, and now I'm learning more magic again, this time more advanced than I could ever have dreamed as a filly." She spun her book around to show it to Red.

Red squinted, then gasped. "Is that the self-levitation spell they were talking about last night?"

"The one and same. It's not exactly something I can use, not unmodified at least. I would need to be able to adapt it a little, and turn it into something I could use...is something wrong, Red?" Trixie asked. Over the last few seconds, Red had suddenly started squirming. His emotions were in a flux, and it was too difficult to lock onto any one feeling.

"No, no, nothing's wrong. Sorry, Trixie, I thought I just saw a changeling I recognised walk by. Um, I gotta go, I'd like to talk to her. See you tonight, bye!" Red said in a hurried tone of voice, before hastily moving away from the table.

Trixie watched him go, baffled by what had just happened. All she had done was show him the spell. The self-levitation spell, created by Icarus, the Wingless Changeling.

Oh.

Oh.

Trixie, you idiot, she scolded herself. Why did you have to bring that up to him? Red had been right about one thing. Trixie wasn't the only one to have taken a few hard knocks in life, and for all the many knocks she had taken, Red had received one that could have been a knockout. Trixie had suffered, but she couldn't imagine a life without her magic. Red had been doomed to a life without the ability to use flight ever again, the trademark ability of the pegasus tribe. And here was Trixie, learning how to use magic to perform what was essentially flying, and she had been born a unicorn.

Her ears drooped, and her shoulders sagged. Trixie had grown, and she had honed a silver tongue. She could easily make friends with others, and had helped to turn the lives of not one but two other ponies around in only a few months. Yet sometimes, she still found herself wanting for tact.

Trixie shook her head. It wouldn't do to wallow in guilt. She had still come to the library with a purpose, and she was determined to read the rest of The Wingless Changeling.

Upon the Wings of Freedom: Red Wings

"You are...Tricky, was it?"

"Trixie," she corrected, looking up from her notes. "Oh, hello. Who might you be?" She asked the changeling sitting down across from her.

"My name is Thelax, son of Aphid, son of Stern, though you may just call me Thelax," said the changeling.

Trixie blinked. Oh dear, please don't be one of those types. She had encountered in her lifetime three nobles who recited their family lines, and that was three too many times. She decided to grin and bear with it. "Hello Thelax, it is good to meet you," she greeted.

"It is nice to meet you as well, Trixie, daughter of Cicada," said Thelax. Trixie wondered if it would be rude to ask him to back up. It was easier for her to keep track of which changeling was which by the holes in their hooves rather than their faces, but Thelax' hooves were blocked from sight by the table. "I am curious. I heard from other changelings about what you did for a living. 'Performances', was it?"

Ah. It was one of those. Trixie would be more than glad to chat Thelax' ear off about that, especially if she could use it as an excuse to get away from reading for several minutes. "Yes, that is what I did for several years. What did you want to know about?"

Thelax clicked his tongue a few times, sounding apprehensive. "Is it fun to do your shows?"

Trixie chuckled, and relied on Thelax to sense the good humour behind it so he didn't think she was making fun of him. "Oh, it's many things, Thelax. Yes, it's fun. It's exhilarating. It's also incredibly scary. Every time I've done a show, I've always been chewing at my hoofs mere minutes before starting it, wondering if the audience will like it. But nearly every time, my show has gone off without a hitch, and it's always a glorious moment when the crowd applauds you after. When they exalt me with the wild stomping of their hooves, it always felt like I was on top of the world."

"Wow, that sounds incredible. Wait, you said nearly every time. What happened the other few times?"

She hoped he couldn't sense her sly use of words. "I've had the occasional show that was a disaster. I let one of them get to me really bad, enough that I stopped for a while. There were a few more that made me upset, but I didn't stop then. I always bounced back each time. Have you ever seen a show, out of curiosity?" Trixie asked.

The changeling nodded. "A few times. From what I've read of the books here, however, the plays here are amateurish. We learn to imitate ponies as perfectly as possible so we can take their places, but when we come home to the hive, we seem to lose any acting ability we had."

It was disconcerting to hear a changeling so freely talk about taking the place of a pony, but Trixie brushed it aside. She had known about that for a long time. Now was not the time to be getting caught up in that. "I see. Well, you know, I do two different types of shows. I do plays, where I tell stories, usually with both physical props and magical illusions, and then I do magic shows. In the case of the latter, the things I do are usually far greater than the average unicorn will ever strive to reach in her lifetime."

"I see," Thelax said. "It's unfortunate, I guess, that the biggest advantage a changeling has over any other species in performing a show is, well..." He trailed off.

Trixie sympathised with Thelax. A changeling existed to change, it was in the name of their very species. The main reason they tripped up when in disguise was because they didn't mimic their target well enough, if they were replacing an actual pony. The second biggest reason, however, was because a changeling had a single-minded focus to always be changing, always be adapting. It was why her father, and the few changeling 'uncles' she had (and occasional aunt, but since they never had any children her father was less likely to visit them, bringing Trixie and his wife with), always tended to art or mechanics of some sort. Be it under their hooves or by their magic, shaping and changing the form of a wooden block into a piece of art or metal trinkets into a machine always helped to alleviate the urge.

A changeling who was undercover, however, trying to gather energy for his hive, simply did not have the time or wherewithal to dedicate to a hobby or a job like that. There were few who could make a living on art, and not many changelings were mechanically inclined, given every changeling could use externally-shaped magic like a unicorn. As a result, changelings would soon have to ditch disguises and move onto the next pony when others got suspicious of their current form.

"Perhaps in a few years it will be doable," Trixie said. "I have been to the land of the zebras and of the deers before. I can't be fully confident, but I believe most of them would accept a changeling if he was to use his shapeshifting abilities in order to perform a play."

"Do you really think so?" Thelax asked. It was difficult to see, given his solid blue eyes, but Trixie could still tell that he was excited.

"Yes, I think so," she replied. She let a surge of certainty and enthusiasm bubble up to the surface, and watched as the changeling perked up, taking in her freely given emotion.

"Alright! Thanks, Miss Trixie," Thelax said, giving her a bow. Trixie blinked. That had been a quick turnaround from a changeling who had introduced himself by his two immediate forefathers. She smiled, however. Even if the end of her chat with Red had been a disaster, it was good to know she could still lift the spirits of others. "I'm going to go practice! I hope to be able to show you something before you leave!" Quickly, the changeling turned around to leave, practically hopping as he moved.

"Wait."

Thelax interrupted his pronking, turning around. "Is something the matter?"

Trixie stood their, looking ahead dumbly for a few seconds. It was a stupid thought. It was outrageous, absurd, impossible, ludicrous. It was a plausible thought. The last time Trixie had suffered a moment of inspiration, she had barreled straight ahead, and everything had come out the better for it. This time, however, Trixie wouldn't be just gambling with her own life in the event she used up all her magic. She would be betting another pony's life, too.

"Can I see your transformation?" Trixie blurted out. "Not just one time, a few times, please. It's been several years since I last saw my father. I was always fascinated by it."

The changeling raised his eyes, rightfully bewildered by her odd request. However, he quickly acquiesced, humouring the pony who had both given him a boost of emotion and hopefully would give him tips before he went. "Sure, Miss Trixie!" He said, as green fire lit his body up, and he turned into an Earth pony.

Trixie's eyes glittered with energy.

Change.

A changeling could Change.

With the exception of Icarus, who suffered from a disease, all changelings could regrow their forms with enough energy.

Four days passed. During that time, Trixie absorbed the writings of Icarus, until she felt she could learn no more from him. Further reading of The Wingless Changeling wouldn't help her. Trixie instead needed to practice, modify her spell, and practice some more, until through trial-and-error she could fully execute it. She occasionally entertained Thelax, and observed his transformations again and again, learning something new each time. However, it would never fill the free time she had now that she was done with Icarus.

Instead, Trixie sifted through some of the other books in the library, mostly on more magic that she could adapt to her own purposes, but also cracking a few books open on changeling culture. Part of it was for the day Trixie would meet that changeling at Colt Springs, perhaps not too far away now, but mostly, Trixie desired to understand her dead father better. Trixie still missed her mother, September Midsummer, but the mare had been dead for far longer. Trixie lived and breathed pony culture every day. It was high time she understand a little of the history of her father's species.

After their second day in the hive, Noire and Iceheart joined her, finding the cavernous library amazing. Trixie took the time to tutor Noire in a new spell, collecting moisture out of the air, finding it relevant given the main environmental hazard to the library in the cool, damp underground. Iceheart, meanwhile, spent the better part of the day lecturing to a few changelings who had wandered in about Crystal Pony lore, and giving them a first-hand account of the last days of the former Princess Amore and the reign of King Sombra, as well as her own adventures fighting Windigos. The changelings had been quite captivated, and they had feted the former commander far more than they did even Trixie and Noire, two daughters of changelings from their own hive.

On the fourth day, Trixie still went to the library, but she also finally accepted going on a tour of the hive, finding herself amazed at how extensive a network of tunnels and chambers the changelings had built for themselves in the badlands. She wasn't sure if Red's theory of the hive being built in the inside of the large hills was correct, or if it was actually underground. In either case, the changelings had still done a phenomenal job with their architecture.

It was that evening that Red had finally worked up the will to come back to the library, where Trixie was. He was far more brusque this time, cutting straight to the chase.

"You do recall that I said I was charging you an extra fee for every day extra we stayed in the Hive, right?"

Trixie looked up to face him. First, she had to get over her surprise that he had finally come back to speak with her. She decided not to give him any heck about his avoiding her the last few days. At least, that was what it had felt like to her. "Yes, I do remember. Don't worry too much, we have more than enough money. If you want, I can pay you out what we owe you up so fa-"

"That doesn't matter!" Red snapped back, flicking his wing against the table, creating an odd snapping sound. "I'd like to leave the hive soon, please."

She found herself baffled. Was he getting itchy hooves again? Trixie had to admit, she was feeling a little bit cramped already in the hive herself. She couldn't understand how some changelings were able to live here their entire life.

Wait. Trixie took a closer feel at Red's emotions, letting them simmer before she tasted them. There was nervousness in great quantities. However, instead of the fear that usually went along with trepidation in ponies, he was experiencing more embarrassed than anything else. Oh, this had to be good. If only his entire body wasn't already red, she might even have been able to elicit a visible blush out of him.

"What's happening?" Trixie asked.

"I-it's Queen Chrysalis," Red blurted out. "She found another changeling she's trying to set me up with, but this one, Manti, she's even more clingy than the last two! I didn't realise any mare, pony or changeling, could be that forward!"

Trixie didn't know whether to be amused at Red's suffering, or insulted at his backhoof comment about her gender. She chose to join in the laughter that percolated through the group, including the few changelings who were conversing with Iceheart to the side. It seemed this Manti had a reputation if even the changelings found Red's situation funny.

"It's not funny!" Red said indignant.

Trixie wiped a few tears away from her eyes, finally getting herself under control. "Oh, I'm sorry, heh, Red. In all honesty, haha, we were thinking about leaving tomorrow. It's been a learning experience here, but none of us are particularly fond of it. We're glad to all of you, thank you very much, but we just aren't used to living indoors like this," Trixie said, directing her words at the changelings Iceheart was entertaining.

There was a chorus of replies, generally assenting to Trixie's words.

Red sighed. "Ah, that's good. My pegasus instincts are still blaring at me, too. I can't fly worth two spits, but I still crave the open air as well. This is one of the largest chambers in the hive, and it still doesn't do a thing for me."

Trixie cringed at his words. She had seen the way his eyes had creased and heard the light exhale of pain every time some other pony or changeling had flown around over the last few days. Hopefully, if all went well, today was the last full day she would have to hear words of that ilk from the one-winged pegasi.

"The weather is predicted to be typical today, with no abnormally high wind or heat," said the changeling standing next to Queen Chrysalis, reciting a weather report. "There is a small chance of lightning travelling from the eastern sea. In the event that it occurs, it could potentially start a bush fire, so you should be aware of that."

"When he says small, he means tiny is more like it," Red said from next to the three mares. "Thunder can travel over a hundred thousand hoofsteps from its origin in the sky, but it truly is rare."

"That may be, but it still has happened," said Queen Chrysalis. "We lost a dozen changelings once to a freak thunderstorm. The only consolation we have is that it occurred during a time of peace. Had it happened during a war, we would likely have blamed their electrocution on an enemy spell. You would do wise, Red Wing, not to brush aside rare occurrences."

Red shifted under the Queen's gaze.

Oh, she used his full name. Trixie thought. Reminding him of his own incident is a little underhooved, but that's her prerogative. You know, I don't know how old Chrysalis is. She's not a thousand years old, but she's several hundred at least from what she's mentioned before. I suppose for her, 'rare' events are bound to happen when you live that long.

Chrysalis turned to Trixie and Noire. "Thank you for coming, you two. I have heard from my changelings that you were open with them, and gave freely of your emotions. You may feel free to return any time, so long as you go to Mirage's Gorge and wait for my children to pick you up." Then she turned to Iceheart. "The same goes for you, Iceheart. You may not be one of us, but my race long warred against the Windigos, who sought to incite and feed off the hatred of others, which is anathema to us. They may not be around any longer, but we will always value a pony who fought on the front-lines against them."

Iceheart took an awkward bow, not used to the praise from somebody who wasn't serving directly under her. "Thank you, your Majesty."

"And for you Red Wing, I hope you come back again. Perhaps Manti wasn't the best choice, but I'm sure I can find some other changeling." This time the smile on Chrysalis' face was unmistakable for what it was: that of a predator, seeking to make her prey squirm in embarrassment.

"I-I'll try, Queen Ch-Chrysalis," Red stuttered. It was obvious to all he wanted to get out of there right that moment. "It likely won't be until another pony or changeling wishes to visit the hive."

It really is disappointing that he's all red. He would look cute blushing, Trixie thought, before shaking her head. Where did that thought come from?

It would have to wait, however, for later. Trixie had one last thing to say. "Queen Chrysalis, thank you for hosting us here," She said in her most heartfelt manner. "I loved my father, but given his situation, there were fundamental ways we would just never have been able to connect. I am glad that I was able to learn some things of his species, and bring home his story. If I ever come back, it will be with some of the woodwork that he created in his last days."

"The same sentiment goes for me," Noire added.

"If only all ponies were like you," Queen Chrysalis said. She sighed. "Some days, I wish I had never committed to that invasion."

Trixie was surprised. For the first time since she had been here, the Queen had finally called it an invasion, as opposed to merely 'the wedding'. She didn't let it faze her, however, as Trixie said what she was planning to say, "Perhaps, but what is done is done. I learned that from my own past. But, you know, Queen Chrysalis. Reconciliation isn't something changelings have to do alone." Trixie took in a deep breath to steady her nerves as she carried on. "I hope to make an impact in Equestrian society, somehow, someway. I don't know how. I already helped to destroy the Windigo ice in the north, so it's not for a lack of possible magical talent. I have the drive. I'll do something, something that will cause ponies to look up to me and ask for advice. And when I do, I'll push for a new understanding between ponies and changelings."

She scanned the small crowd of changelings, but couldn't identify Thelax by his limb holes. "That said, I've already mentioned to one of your children that it may be easier to get a start with the deerfolk, who are very welcoming of other species, through an exchange of art and culture. It's something that needs to be worked hard at by both sides. But you can count on me. Within a few years, I'll accomplish something great, something that will spread my name wide. And you'll have a partner when you approach the ponies again."

There was a stunned silence by every pony and changeling in the room. Tense emotions hung in the background, and Trixie suddenly wasn't sure if this was the best idea.

Slowly, Chrysalis walked forward. The Changeling Queen of the Badlands Hive looked Trixie directly in the eye, green eyes meeting pink. Trixie wasn't sure why Chrysalis did that, when she could just as easily detect her emotions. The unicorn stood firm nevertheless.

"That was the sappiest thing I've ever heard from a pony, and I've heard many a ridiculous sentiment from them," Chrysalis pronounced.

The mood in the room deflated.

Then Chrysalis smiled again, a genuine smile. "But I appreciate it all the same. I hope you succeed, Trixie. I would be glad to work with you if you climb the ladder of your own society. Enough of that, however. Sweet dreams."

Trixie breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't worry too much about her rapidly beating heart, as Queen Chrysalis was readying a spell to be cast from her horn. As they had entered the hive, they were to leave by the same method. Even as hybrids, one who had fought Windigos, and one who seemed well-liked by the changelings, they still were not fully trusted. Within moments, Trixie felt her eyes drift close, and she drooped forward, falling into a deep sleep.

Compared to the last time Trixie had been put to sleep and then awoken, the blue-coated unicorn did it with far more grace this time.

"Who-wha-where am I?!" Trixie took a half jump up, only to fall back down, sprawled out on all four limbs. Her belly flop kicked up a small amount of dirt, and she coughed on the briefly dusty air.

"We're back in the Gorge," said a masculine voice.

Trixie craned her head over to look at the speaker. She confirmed it to be Red, matching it up with his deep, slightly scratchy voice. Slowly, she picked herself up, and saw that Iceheart was also up already, leaving just Noire still snoozing. Standing across from them were eight changelings. She was able to pick out Atlas. It had taken her a few days to really hone in and notice it, but Atlas had wisps of a blue proto-mane growing from the back of his head. It was potentially a sign of importance within the hive, but Trixie had never dared to ask.

"The fourth one is beginning to show signs of stirring," stated Atlas, and it was true. Noire was fidgeting slightly, and her limbs occasionally twitching, signs that she was no longer in a magically-induced deep sleep. She even occasionally mumbled a few nonsensical words out loud. "With that, we will be off." Atlas looked over, and gave Red a salute. "Until next we meet, Red Wing."

Red returned the salute. "Until next time."

The eight changelings turned around, and each took a single hoofstep forward before hopping into the air, with their buzzing wings carrying them forward. Trixie thought about how easily they could be tracked when leaving witnesses behind like this. Her theory was quickly shot down as the changelings disappeared behind a hill, staying low enough in the gorge that no pony could follow them and hope to find out where the hive was.

Good, though. The changelings were gone. Soon, she would confront Red.

Noire began to rouse herself, finally flipping over onto her back. The harsh rays of the sun appeared to do the trick, as she curled a wing over her eyes. "Gurgh, bright light, too early," She mumbled, before realising that she was sitting in dirt. Sitting up onto her haunches, Noire took a look around. "Oh, that's where we are," said the batpony.

Trixie snorted. At least Noire wasn't awake to watch Trixie leaving her sleep, or else she would be teasing her for days about that.

"In any event, let us be off," said Red.

"Wait."

Red frowned, turning to face Trixie. "Is there something you needed to do first?"

"Something like that," Trixie said. It's now or never. This is what I've been thinking and researching towards the last few days. "No doubt you're going to wonder where I'm going with this, but do you recall how I said I destroyed the Windigo ice in the north only a week ago?" Has it really been only a week? That sounds so weird, like something out of a play. 'Yeah, I destroyed a massive magic-resistant block left by the Windigos, that was just last week.

"Yeeeees," Red dragged his lone word out, indeed wondering where Trixie was going with it.

"Did you ever wonder just how I destroyed the ice? Take a guess, I won't think you stupid or anything."

The stallion frowned. "I assume maybe it was with fire, or perhaps a massive heat spell. Or maybe you bludgeoned it apart with pure force, bit by bit."

Trixie sighed. "If only it had been that simple. The honest truth is, I still don't know myself. Oh, I know generally what I did," she hastened to add as she felt him become annoyed. "What I did was nothing less than to make an illusion that was so powerful that it actually affected reality itself."

Red digested that for a few seconds. "You mean like a daydream or a nightmare or something?"

Trixie shook her head. She briefly took a glance at both Noire and Iceheart. They were both confused, but no doubt they were expecting this to lead to something big. "No, not like that at all. Think of, say, fire. When a pony creates an illusion of fire, it can look very realistic. It can crackle like fire, it can look like fire, it might even look so realistic that your body will be fooled into sweating by the feel of the heat of the fire on your coat. But it's still not real. What I did was like creating an illusion of fire so realistic that it actually crossed over into essentially conjuring real fire, capable of scorching and burning and leaving behind ash."

"Alright, I think I understand that. So you, what, you used an illusion on the block? Is there really a difference between using an illusion of a fire that creates an actual fire then, and just straight up summoning an actual fire?"

Trixie nodded. "It makes all the difference. The latter is easily doable. The former isn't supposed to be possible, because what it's effectively doing is telling the world, reality itself, 'this is the way things is', and reality accepts it. It's a way of making an illusion permanent. I cast the illusion of the Windigo ice disappearing, as if it were never there at all, and as far as the world was concerned, that was a fundamental truth of reality."

Red stumbled back, finally understanding. "I think I understand that, except I can't. If it's doable, think about what you could do with that! You could create real bits that can't be picked out by a counterfeiting spell. You could make yourself the most elaborate house you ever desired! You could produce water in this river valley! You can—"

"Regrow wings," Trixie said.

Pure shock. Trixie thought she had understood what shock was already, having felt it from many ponies over her two decades and change of life. Trixie had failed to understand just how deep it could go, up until now.

Noire was the first to speak. "Didn't you say before you couldn't do it on living things?"

"Yes," Trixie conceded, deciding to get that conception dispelled. "That was the case. Back when we were on tour, however, I went off on my own for a little bit, and found one of the caves where they were growing mushrooms. That changeling, Thelax...even as I taught him a few things, he taught me simply by virtue of his transformations. Changelings don't cast a mere illusion, they actually physically transform, creating mass where there was none before or occasionally reducing mass. I experimented with mushrooms, and it worked. That wasn't the only thing I-"

"What are the risks?" Red asked, sharply interrupting her.

"I-I'm sorry?"

"What. Are. The risks," Red repeated himself, with an added dash of frustration. "You don't strike me as the type to make something up about something like this, Trixie. Noire, you can sense deceit. Is she lying?"

"N-no," Noire said. "No, she isn't."

"Then all I want to know are the risks."

"If the spell fails, if, it could result in a magical backlash that might maim you. It could potentially kill you immediately. I might die, but that's only from running out of magic," Trixie said. She had already prepared the possible effects in her head. She just hadn't expected him to leap straight to them.

"Then let's do it," Red said, looking around the gorge. "Right here, right now."

"Wait, what? Don't you want to get back to Dodge Junction first? If there's a backlash, at least you can get medical attention there."

Red snorted. "Oh? So why did you decide to tell me about this, all the way out here, deep in the badlands?"

Trixie made to retort, only to stop short. Why had she done that? It had seemed rather hasty of her. She hadn't asked Iceheart to take them out on a tour, and only then reveal to her the possibility of using an illusion to destroy the ice. It was stupid of her.

"Maybe you sensed it in me or something, Trixie, I don't know how much you can truly feel emotions, or even all that changelings can do either, for that matter," Red continued. "You told me that you have two passions: the stage and magic. I'm like you. I have two things that give my life meaning: flight, and wandering. For the longest time, I thought wandering Equestria was enough of a life." Red sighed, and brushed his hoof through his mane. "I'm sorry girls, I don't want to sound like I'm pressuring you, but I need to fly. If I cannot, then one day, sooner rather than later, I'm going to decide I can't deal with this any longer."

"What a foolish sentiment," Iceheart scolded him. "Once you throw your life away, that is it. There are no takebacks."

"That's true," said Red. "I thought the same about the day I lost my wing. There was no taking that back. But now, Trixie, you claim you could give me my wing back, through something I only half-understand? Even a one percent chance is something I'm willing to take. Let me be clear. Even a one percent change of a restored wing against a fifty percent chance of death is something I'm willing to take, when the value of one so greatly outweighs the other in my head."

"Trixie? What do you think?" Iceheart asked, turning around to face the unicorn.

Trixie swallowed, feeling out of her depth at the way the conversation suddenly had turned. Red was thinking about suicide? She...I cannot allow that to happen. "The odds are significantly better than that. It's something I've never done before, but I never tried what I did with the ice before I actually succeeded, so perhaps fifty percent? And five percent chance of serious maiming or death?"

Red smirked. "Those are odds I would take any day."

"But why here?" Noire asked, desperately trying to steer the topic back around. "Even if Trixie fails, you'll still have medical attention, and she might fail not because it has no chance of working, but just because she hasn't got the experience, and she could do it on a second try!"

"That...that is true," Red conceded, and Noire felt optimistic. "Except, I feel like she'll do it on her first try."

"You feel?" Trixie asked, feeling strange. "You're just going to put your fate into my hooves like that, because you 'feel' I'll succeed?"

Red shrugged. "Call it gut instinct. The same instinct that lead me to disperse that first tornado so long ago that got me my Cutie Mark. The same instinct that warned me against tackling the last one, which I so foolishly went against and ignored, and lost my wing in the process. The same instinct that told me perhaps changelings could be reasoned with, even made friends with. The-the same instinct that told me these three mares who wanted to, to go to the hive, they could be trusted."

He was crying. Trixie found herself startled to realise she didn't want him to cry, because it made her sad too, in a way that no other crying pony except for her mother on her deathbed had ever made her feel. "Please," Red choked out in between sobs. "Just-just give it a chance. I have faith in you, Trixie."

Trixie could say no. She could wait until they were in town, and find a secluded area to do all this. But she had faith in herself, and Red had faith in her too.

"OK."

Both Noire and Iceheart had varying degrees of disgust, but they each conceded to her decision. "If that is what you think, then I will accept that," Iceheart said. "You stuck your neck out for me before, and it worked. Let us hope this does as well."

They cleared out a small section of larger rocks, before using the same rocks to create a rough circle nearly two horse-spans in diameter. The geometry wasn't truly essential for the spell, but Trixie felt it would help nevertheless. In the event, the several minutes it took gave Trixie time to calm her nerves.

At last, the moment of truth was upon her, and Trixie found herself facing Red, who stood in the circle. She stood a hundred hoofsteps away from him, both Noire and Iceheart behind her, staying a decent distance apart in the event of the magical backlash Trixie had warned could occur.

The living wind howled.

With a moment's hesitation, Trixie cast.

Trixie had researched the anatomy of birds and pegasi, looking to gain deeper insight into wings. Wings were rather fascinating, with many of the bones resembling those in limbs of other beings, though they were more similar to the upper limbs of bipeds than limbs of quadrupeds such as ponies themselves. She could take Red's nub and plant the humerus bone from there, connecting a new tendon also from the shoulder until it reached the intersection of the new metacarpus, radius and ulna, and create new muscles and plumage over the reformed bone structure.

Later, Trixie had considered changing it just a simple concept: implanting the idea that 'Red has both wings', and rejecting the idea that he had ever lost a wing. Instead of regrowing a wing, she could simply make it that he had never lost a wing. Everypony alive who had ever met him would remember that Red had lost a wing, but the world itself would not. The world itself would believe that he had always had two wings, that that had never not been the case, and so Red have his left wing again.

Unfortunately, Trixie had struggled with that, as she quickly fell into painfully squaring the metaphysics with the metathaumics and ending up with nothing but a headache. Had she been able to stay at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, then perhaps the philosophy classes she would have eventually taken would have helped. Then again, had she stayed there, Trixie might never have developed her illusionary magic. She would have never met Iceheart, and she would never have met Red.

Instead, Trixie struck upon a novel, yet ingenious solution. Red still had one wing. The anatomy of a wing did not vary between sides, except for the left and the right being mirrored opposites. What if she was to go a slightly different route, and say, "Red has a wing on his right side. He also has a wing that is on his left side that is identical to his right wing, but mirrored." It was this solution Trixie ultimately decided on, after a few tests to ensure it was plausible. Thankfully, a test with glucose for a chirality switch proved negative, and so her theory was set.

Much like how a changeling could transform his body in green fire, Trixie would transform Red's body, giving him an extra wing.

But manipulating mushrooms appeared to be very different from working with a sapient being. Even in her trance-like state, Trixie could still feel the sweat dripping through her closed eyelids, the taste of salt on her tongue, and the heavy breathing of her body as it struggled to cope with the concentration she needed for this feat. Reality encompassed all of creation, from the planet they lived on, to the sun and the moon, to the stars beyond, and all the space they lived in between. Creation did not like to be pushed around by something that was but an ant to it -neigh, like a tiny fruit fly before the might of an alicorn princess. It had been tamed the last time with the power of the Crystal Heart, but this time it pushed back.

It held strong. It had a greater sense of identity once, but it had lost it. Things like gender and name were meaningless now. All it was focused on was pushing through this Idea.

'Red has two wings.'

'Red has two wings.'

Trixie woke up, sweating hard. The wind had subsided. Despite this, she felt a draft of cool air. Was her body suffering an illness or a delusion, that she was feeling cold in her last moments before heat death?

She blinked, and felt the magic around her body. No, that was just a cooling spell. Trixie smirked. It had been worth it teaching Noire how to use cooling spells.

She took a deep breath of air, and wiped the sweat out of her eyes. Opening them, she was instantly reminded of the near-ethereal state she had just been in.

"Your wing..." Trixie whispered.

Red flexed his left wing, looking at it, entranced. He still seemed incapable of believing what his eyes saw. Trixie couldn't blame him.

"He already tried them before you woke up," Noire spoke from beside Trixie. "They work, both of them. He flapped his wings, and he achieved lift-off. I chased up after him, and we bumped hooves. There's no way any illusion could simulate all that, in real-time, without direction from its unconscious caster." Noire hugged Trixie, unminding of the unicorn's sweat-drenched fur. "I don't know how, Trixie, but you did it again."

"Y-yeah..." Trixie trailed off. "I, I did it. I did it. Did you heard that?!" She yelled, looking up at the sky. "I did it! I really bucking did it!"

"My reluctance about having done it out here still stands, Trixie," Iceheart said from the other side of the blue-coated mare. The purple-coated Crystal pony smiled. "Nevertheless, I'm glad you succeeded. I can't speak for knowing what it's like to fly, but I think you've made one stallion very happy today."

"She's right, you know," Red suddenly said, at last breaking out of his reverie. "I-I still don't believe this is happening, but it seems to be true. I bit my tongue really hard and I didn't wake up, this is really true." The red-coated pegasus spat out a small dollop of blood from his mouth, showing just how hard he had bitten. "I don't think you need to pay the rest of your expedition fee anymore."

Trixie laughed at that. Then a random thought came to her, and she giggled again. "You know what I just realised, Red?"

Red was still on cloud nine, with a perpetual dopey grin plastered over his face, as he flexed his left wing once more. "You could realise hundreds of things, Trixie, and right now I would listen to all of them."

"Hehe, but no, no seriously, I just realised something. When you attacked those policeponies in Baltimare, they saw a pegasus who only had one wing." Trixie giggled again, unable to make it through her entire point without laughing out of a combination of nervousness and joy. "No pony has ever had a lost wing restored, so even if you strongly resemble this other red pegasus, you can't be him, you have both wings! You can call yourself Red Wing in the open again."

"Red Wings."

Trixie blinked. She thought he had said 'Red Wing', but something was just a little bit off about that sentence. "Huh?"

"My name, my true name, is Red Wings, as in two wings," Red, no, Red Wings said as he looked up towards the pale blue sky. "Oh Celestia, I haven't said that in years. Not since I lost my wing and dropped the plural. A one-winged pegasus being called 'wings' never sounded right, and so I became Red Wing, and then Red. No more."

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense," Trixie said.

"Never mind that, though. It's more than about the expedition fee," Red Wings said, before he suddenly dropped down on all four limbs in front of Trixie. "Trixie Lulamoon, I owe you so unfathomably much that I couldn't possibly hope to repay you. No, I don't think even money would be enough to feel I paid off my debt. I'd like to travel with you, and offer you my services wherever you go as your servant."

"Guh?"

Trixie supposed she should at least have seen part of that coming. Red had little to truly keep him attached to Dodge Junction when it truly came down to it. Yes, he had friends here, but he had no family, and he was a self-admitted wanderer. If Iceheart, who had siblings living in the Empire and a second family at the fortress had decided to tag along with Trixie and Noire, Red, neigh, Red Wings would no doubt do the same.

Having Red Wings pledge himself as a servant was something else entirely together.

"We, we can talk about that later," Trixie said, working her way up to her hooves. Images of two idiotic colts flashed through her mind, and how she had made them slave to satisfy her whims. Her stomach roiled at that. "I don't want a servant, but a friend who'll travel with us, I'll accept that. Again, we, let's talk about that la, la-whoa!" Trixie hollered, nearly tripping over her hooves. "Sorry girls, Red Wings, I think I'm still a little out of order from casting that spell."

"That's alright. I can carry you as we go back," Red Wings said.

"Say what?" Trixie asked, as her cheeks brightened.

Red grinned. The pegasus was still on a dopey high that it seemed he might never come down from. ""What was it you said before? For me to fly again would be to fly upon the wings of freedom? I can fly again. Some mere extra weight doesn't matter a wit to me at this point!"

Noire looked back and forth between the two. "Hmm. It's doable. We don't exactly have the supplies to make it easy, and you can't fly too high, Red Wings. Remember, Dodge Junction doesn't know you have your wing restored. You should keep it that way. If they see you flying, Trixie's talent and magic will be exposed."

"You want to keep that secret?" Red asked, astonished. "Think of how much good she could do with other similarly crippled ponies! I don't think even the princesses could do something like what she did now!"

"Yes," Noire bit back. "After all, she derived this magic from observing a changeling's transformation."

Red recoiled at that. "Right...yeah, I guess that wouldn't be the smartest thing right now. Well, let's return to Dodge Junction first. I'll put a cloak on as we get closer to hide this," he said, flexing his left wing. "On second thought, we may have to tie it up against my body. It's been so long since I've had to control muscle function on this wing, I can't guarantee it won't pop out."

"Good idea," Iceheart said. "While I would prefer less talking and more moving now, Trixie, Noire, there is one thing I am curious about. Where should we be heading next after we get to Dodge Junction?"

West, of course, Trixie thought to herself. She opened her mouth to say as much.

The living wind howled.

"W-w-north, north," Trixie said. Where did that come from? "I don't know why, but suddenly I felt as if something important is north."

"How...odd. I feel the same all of a sudden, as if something is drawing me up there too. Not perfectly north, perhaps, but in that direction. You two feel it too?" Iceheart asked, directing the question at Noire and Red Wings.

"This is freaking me out," Noire said, answering Iceheart's question at the same time.

"Something is drawing us north, yes," Trixie restated. "I had something like this happen to me before," She said, gulping. "But that was different. I could feel the taint even on the call of the Amulet. This is something different. This is...not so much passive, but neutral? Yes, neutral, maybe even positive." She looked around at the other three. "And if it isn't, I have you three together to help me, right, everypony?"

Nothing made Trixie happier than to get three nods back. So this was what it was like to have multiple good friends, each who would be willing to walk into the unknown with you to provide security in numbers.

"In that case, let's go back to Dodge Junction."

Trixie grumbled a little bit, but she finally assented to riding Red Wings. The embarrassing part was how tight she had to hug onto him, given the lack of a saddle or any other mechanism to keep her secured to his back. Thankfully, the stallion had the good sense not to do any tricky maneuvers in the air so soon after getting his lost wing restored. She enjoyed the warm breeze washing through her fur, wondering if this was what it would be like when at last she deciphered the secrets of self-levitation.

Slowly, however, joy turned to boredom, as she had little to contribute to the march back, and everypony else kept chatter to a minimum. Perhaps...yes, there was the other spell that Trixie had figured out while reading in the hive's library. That one was worth using.

Trixie had been weak, so very, very weak. Queen Chrysalis had not even been trying, and she had known all along what Trixie was trying to get. Chrysalis only giving it to her because the Queen had been so generous in the first place, and wished to look good in front of Iceheart, Fighter of Windigos. Even with her love of magic, Trixie grew bored of reading easily. She still had her moments where she found herself wanting for tact. She was still arrogant, selfish, and greedy. Had she even really cured Red Wings for his sake, or had she done it to test herself, with the useful bonus of nabbing a loyal pony?

Those thoughts clouded her mind, and so Trixie cast.

Author's Note

Oh look, here's the author going "Blahblahblah" again.

This ended up a long chapter much like the last chapter of Stasis. Fortunately, since the first two chapters of this arc were a combined 7k words shorter than Stasis, that made this one easier to write. I had to nip one subplot that almost formed in this chapter (Trixie deciding to put on a play in front of the changeling hive), because that would have gotten the word count out of hand. I could have split this into two or even three chapters, but because I'm stupid and stubborn I keep aiming for exactly three chapters per arc.

Not to spark drama in the comments section (oh who am I kidding, if this chapter gets 3 comments I'd be stoked), but Trixie's recollection of the past is certainly going to be biased in her favour, so keep that in mind.

The careful reader may have noted that the text has been very careful to stay away from directly referencing Twilight Sparkle since the first chapter. This chapter has a few moments that get very close, but not by name. That's a deliberate theme to this story. This story is very much not about the Mane 6 at all.

Given the naming pattern of the prior two arcs, I wonder how many of you actually spotted the plural form in the chapter title and went, 'Hey wait a minute, Red Wings? Wha?!' Well, I already did it with Noire, though obviously the pattern hadn't been established yet.

Red Wings was a difficult character to write at times throughout this chapter, as I attempt to transition from his rough characterisation in the first chapter of his arc, to his more open personality in the second chapter, to the transformation he goes throughout in this chapter. I may tinker a little with the earlier segments of the final chapter of the arc to make his character arc a bit smoother. I had a little bit of difficulty with the ending, as well. Originally, he sounded demanding of Trixie, guilting her into casting her spell. He still does, but I worked on making him less manipulative and more desperate. I will still likely change this a bit further, because I do not want to give the impression of him meaning mean or manipulative.

The next arc is Eldest. Just like how the New Moon arc wasn't a Twilight homage, this one won't be an Eragon homage.

"Brother, is that you? You have grown so...since the last time I left town, intending to return home that same day."

Eldest: Manechester

The advent of the railway had brought prosperity to Equestria, as it shrank the distance between the great cities. Between Canterlot, at the centre of the Equestrian landmass, and Baltimare to the east, a pony once had to trot for several days or run at near-top speed for a full day. With the train, the trip could be made in an afternoon.

When the train was originally built, the Canterlot-Baltimare route had been one of the easiest to construct. Though one of the few mountain ranges in Equestria, the Foal Mountains, were located east of Canterlot, a great plains sprawled south of the range. It was through these plains that the tracks had been laid down. With little change in elevation and few rivers to bypass, it was one of the smoothest rides in the land.

As a consequence, however, several of the smaller villages that once dotted the walking route to Baltimare and then between Baltimare and Fillydelphia to the north fell by the wayside. Though they survived, relying on agriculture and the odd mine, they were no longer visited by tourists. As such, their names fell out of the popular consciousness of ponykind.

Red Wings sighed as the rolling hills they had crossed over gave way to flatter lands. Though he had exalted in his flight shortly after leaving Dodge Junction, he eventually tired out. All the adrenaline in the world could not make up for the fact that he was out of shape when it came to flight. Part of that was from not having been able to fly at all, but his new wing also felt unfamiliar to him at times. The sensation of the phantom wing had not disappeared, making for an odd feeling when it overlapped with the burning aches of the wing that now existed there.

It was not a feeling that he would have traded for what had come before, though. Life as a one-winged pegasus was something he had little desire to return to.

“What is the next town on the map, Noire?” Iceheart asked from beside him.

“Well, let’s see. We already passed Reneigh earlier,” Noire answered. “This map is outdated by a couple of years, but I doubt there has been any new villages founded in the area since then. That would leave us with Manechester in a few hours.”

“It looks like about four hours to sundown,” Red Wings said, taking a look at the sky. “I think that means we’ll have to stop somewhere close by or even in Manechester for the night. Besides, I can feel it. What about you?”

“You mean that premonition, correct?” Iceheart asked. “Yes, it is odd. I cannot fully understand what it is communicating to me, but I can feel that it wants us st to stop soon. I think our journey northward ends in Manechester.”

“I still don’t like it,” Noire scowled. “We’ve been wandering around on our own volition since Trixie and I left Whinnychester. We went to the Crystal Empire and up to your fort, then we went down to Dodge Junction and met Red Wings here all on our own. And now suddenly, we get some sort of gut feeling shared between all four of us that tells us to go north? It practically smells of a trap.”

“Well, that’s true, but I think whatever is doing this to us probably has enough power it could have done something worse than that already,” Red Wings said. He had been nervous early on about being too active in the group’s discussions. He felt like a fourth wheel to the group. Trixie and Noire had been fillyhood friends and had spent some time together in Whinnychester as well. Even though Iceheart was a new addition to the group, she had still spent at least a week more in close contact with them than he. That she had commanded an entire fortress of ponies before leaving, and was over a thousand years old, also intimidated Red Wings.

It didn’t help that as the lone stallion, he as the odd one out in the trio of mares.

Fortunately, the other three didn’t begrudge him for that. It did make for awkward sleeping situations, however, such as the first night they camped out and they realised they needed to get two tents instead of one.

Red Wings shook his thoughts off and continued. He had gotten better about participating in their conversations now. “Whatever it is, if it was something dangerous to us, I think it probably could have hurt us well beforehoof. I think it’s trying to...guide us, maybe?”

“Guide us? To what, exactly?” Noire retorted, punctuating it with a snort.

Red Wings fumbled for an answer for a few seconds, before he finally struck upon one. He was surprised nopony had thought of it in the week they had been walking. “Trixie seems to have a talent to restore ponies in some way, be it spiritually or physically.” He gazed over at his left wing, still having a hard time believing it was actually there. Trixie had, however, also restored his will to live his life again, doing more than simply surviving day to day, and he owned her for that as well. “Maybe whatever entity is pushing us forward knows about something in Manechester that could use our help?”

“That...maybe,” Noire grudgingly admitted. She was antsy now. Red Wings could tell, because she immediately hopped into the air and lightly flapped her wings to stay aloft. He was jealous of her for that. The restoration of his wing didn’t mean he automatically had the stamina to stay in the air perpetually. Trixie had healed his wing, but the muscles that beat his wings had atrophied through years of disuse.

It would take several weeks at a minimum before he could finally fly on a full-time basis again. His wings itched to be flapped at times, practically on the boundaries of painful, and all Red could offer was cursory flaps that would achieve no lift. Having gone for so long without two wings, he desperately desired to be in the air all the time. Over the years, however, Red Wings had developed the capacity to delay gratification for a greater pay-off. He could hold out doing serious maneuvers for a few months longer, being glad that he was simply able to fly at all.

“What is up with Trixie, anyways?” Iceheart asked, changing the subject. “She has gotten quiet over the last few days.”

Red Wings looked ahead several hundred paces, to where Trixie was walking by her lonesome. It was true. Trixie had been a boisterous pony, a unicorn who he genuinely enjoyed spending time around. Then, suddenly, she had become silent and moody. Red Wings had noticed the mood shift, but he hadn’t offered his opinion up. After all, he had only known Trixie for a few days. He didn’t know what she truly was like. Perhaps this was her default personality, and the outgoing Trixie he had first met was the exception instead of the norm?

“I don’t know,” Noire admitted. “She’s gotten all aloof on me, too. Trix has been practicing her magic, but she hasn’t told me too much about what she’s doing. I’ve seen her create water in some of the dry creek beds we’ve passed by earlier, but I don’t know if that was regular conjuration or if she was using her talent of illusions.”

Red Wing surmised that it was more likely the power of illusions that Trixie was using. He recalled the expression Trixie had once had when he was talking about the river valley in the Badlands, and how water once flowed through there. She had been in deep contemplation at the time, and Red Wings thought he knew what it was now: her wondering if she could do the same as the Changeling Queen of old had done, and bring water to the valley once more. If her power to trick reality into thinking ‘this is the way things must be’ was capable of restoring a wing from its nub, then surely the same could be done to restore water to an arid land.

But he still felt like the odd one out, and so Red Wings decided not to speak up.

“I have noticed Trixie has been getting quieter, but also more contemplative over the last few days,” Iceheart said. “Maybe she already knew what we just realised, and is anticipating that something will occur in Manechester that requires her to perform her magic again? The last two times she did big things with her magic left her exhausted. It may be taking a toll on her such that she dreads doing it a third time.”

“Fourth,” Noire corrected. “She did the same with me before we left her home. Yeah, maybe that’s it. It would be just like Trixie to clam up when she feels the pressure is on her. I know she’ll pull through like the last three times, but I’m not going to let her stay quiet about it!” Still airborne, Noire quickly flapped ahead of the other two, chasing after Trixie, leaving the other two behind.

They were silent for a few moments, before Iceheart said, “Are you alright, Red Wings?”

“Hmm? Huh, oh, yes,” Red Wings said, startled out of his reverie. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Iceheart tilted her head slightly to look at him before she said, “I was worried you might tire out quickly with your wings. I have no doubts you could easily do week-long treks like these on a regular basis, but even if you keep your flying to a minimum, those are muscles that still have not been exercised in a long time.”

Red Wings flushed, and he was thankful his pigmentation prevented others from seeing him blushing. “Yeah, I’m alright. It is tiring, but I’ve been careful not to go for too many minutes straight or too much time in a day, and I’ve been slowly building the amount of time I fly every day. Thanks for asking, though.”

“You are welcome,” Iceheart said. She paused, removing a canteen from her saddlebags to take a quick gulp of water with. “It is good to have you with us.”

Red Swings swallowed. He was uncertain why he was so suddenly shy with even simple words, and all he could settle for was a simple nod.

In her lifetime, Noire had met a few ponies who claimed to have an internal compass. She never got tired of ridiculing them after they got lost, especially when she was on a training mission and the pony in question happened to be leading her squad. Noire herself always relied on an actual compass and a detailed topographical map, two trusted tools of all Royal Guards.

While Iceheart also had military experience, and more of it, the Crystal Earth pony had been mostly stationed at a single fort, making periodic expeditions out into the northern wastes, but never going outside of a small area. Trixie had traveled to more locations and covered more pure distance than Iceheart and Noire put together, but she had nearly always followed the road, rarely planning out her destination ahead of time outside of large annual events such as The Greatest Outdoor Show in Equestria.

It was for this reason that Noire had taken on the responsibility of looking at the map every night to see where they were going. The premonition that had struck all four of them a week ago in the Badlands had told them to go north, instead of west. The problem had been that they hadn’t know how far north to go, and the precise angle of travel. Because of this, they had opted to walk north, instead of taking the train from Dodge Junction, looping around, and hoping they made landfall near where they needed to go. Noire just hadn’t expected that it would take more than week, in which they had journeyed past Horseshoe Bay, past Baltimare, and to only a day’s walk south of Fillydelphia.

The gut feeling seemed to be subsiding, however, and so Noire suspected they were at last at the end of their long trek. Now she just needed to figure out whether Trixie believed the same.

“Trix, wait up!” Noire called out as she flew ahead, finally touching down besides Trixie. The shortgrass that grew up on the great plains of Equestria always felt ticklish to her hooves after spending a moderate amount of time in the air, but she shrugged off the weird sensation. “We’re almost in a village called Manechester.”

“How long?” Trixie asked gruffly.

Trixie’s tone of voice took Noire off-guard, and she wrinkled her muzzle at it even as she said, “Two hours or so.”

“OK.”

Noire raised an eyebrow. “Are you alright, Trixie? You seem a little off today.”

“I’m fine.”

Alright, that’s definitely out of character for her, Noire thought. She decided to change topics, and said, “This...feeling that’s possessed us. I don’t know if it’s the same for you, but I’ve been talking with Red Wings and Iceheart. It feels like Manechester is where it’s leading us.”

“I see.”

Noire creased her eyebrows, seeing that she was failing at breaking through Trixie’s solid wall of one-word and two-word responses. She flew ahead of Trixie and turned around so that the two were face-to-face, all while continuing to now fly backwards towards Manechester. Noire curled her lips at the expression on Trixie’s face. There had been no malice in Trixie’s words, just apathy. It was the same for Trixie’s expression. “You haven’t really chatted with us very much in the last few days. You’ve been walking ahead of the rest of us , and even when we camp for the night, you’ve been shutting us out.”

“Whatever.”

The bat pony clenched her throat to stop a frustrated growl from coming out. Instead, she took in a deep breath, and exhaled. Then Noire resorted to reason. “Trixie, you are worrying us. The first few days after we left Dodge Junction, you were normal, but then you seem to have withdrawn in on yourself. It’s a little scary to us, seeing you do this, and we don’t even know if you’ve just decided to clam up a little or if you’re suffering side-effects from using your illusion magic before, or if something happened in the hive. Please, tell us. We’re your friends,” she pleaded.

Trixie blinked. Then she blinked again, only this time, her eyelids fluttered slowly, and then she closed her eyes, and stopped where she was. Even with her eyes closed, she blinked rapidly several times, before her entire body relaxed, tension that Noire hadn’t even noticed in the other pony’s body evaporating. Then Trixie opened her eyes, and there was genuine emotion in them. “I’m sorry, Noire. I’ve just been busy thinking over the last while.”

“That’s alright,” Noire said. “Just, I guess, tell us about these things. There’s no need to carry the weight of the world on your withers. What’s been bothering you?”

“I-no, wait, let’s wait for Iceheart and Red Wings to catch up,” Trixie said, turning around to see where the other two were at. She nodded at seeing the other two were about a minute away.

“OK, that sounds good,” Noire said, dropping down onto the grass once more.

Red Wings and Iceheart hurried their pace as they saw Trixie and Noire had stopped, and the four ponies soon met up.

“Sorry, Noire, Iceheart, Red Wings. I’ve just been a little stressed out lately by this whole thing, about us going north. I don’t really like being led astray by some force that I know nothing about,” Trixie said. “Manechester is out of the way and a small enough village that I don’t think anything bad is going to happen, though I suspect we’ll find something there that I’m able to help out with.” Nopony else was surprised about that, having come to the same conclusion earlier. “I suppose maybe I knew we were getting closer, and the closer we got, the moodier I became.”

“That’s alright, Trixie,” said Red Wings, finally speaking now that he was in Trixie’s presence, instead of in the back with just the two other mares. “You weren’t in pain or anything when you healed me, were you? Is that why you were, erm…” The red-furred pegasus trailed off, trying to think of a word that wouldn’t sound derogatory.

“So introspective?” Trixie asked, filling in a word for Red Wings. “Yes, though it’s not painful. It’s never been painful, but it leaves me exhausted every time I do it. It, erm, give me a second,” she said, and the three other ponies gave her that second and more while Trixie thought. “Unicorn magic can be difficult to learn and understand and use, but just about every spell we use has already been developed by a trailblazer. Even if a spell is difficult, a unicorn knows it’s possible since the spell has already been achieved by some other pony. But not for this. I’m literally pioneering something that I didn’t even think would have been possible six months ago, and every time, I’m pushing it further still.”

She yawned, covering her mouth with a hoof, eyes bulging in turn before she finally snapped her jaw shut again. “There’s more to what I’m doing than just that, though. There’s a mindset to it. Magic requires concentration on the part of the user to shape it. With what I’ve been doing, I have to actually change my very way of thinking. I ‘know’ that illusions shouldn’t be capable of changing reality itself, that it’s just an illusion. Yet each time I’ve used my illusion magic, for a few moments, I forcibly change my own perception of things to something alien, in order to change how the world should be. Am I even making sense here?”

Her three comrades all had baffled expressions on her face. It was Red Wings who was able to digest her explanation first. Now that he was in Trixie’s presence again, he didn’t hesitate to speak up.

“Sort of, I think,” Red Wings said. “What you’re doing seems impossible even to you, and you have to change how you think the world should work before you actually change how the world should work, or something? Like, if ponies never flew or had magic, we’d always be bound to the ground, and if you came up with a spell that allowed a pony to fly, you’d first have to actually convince yourself that you can fly. Great, now you have me tossing around the faux-philosophy crap too.” He scowled, then added a light-hearted jab to show he wasn’t upset, “Oh, woe is me.”

Trixie giggled. “Yes, something like that. That’s an interesting analogy you use, and it reminds me I haven’t practiced my attempts at levitating myself since we left the Hive. But seriously, it’s been an issue for me. I just worry that I’ve been running more on luck than actual skill so far, and that someday, like today, I might fail, or even worse, suffer a magical backlash.” She sighed, and added, “The first time with the ice up in the North, the magic just slid off the ice. It took the Crystal Heart’s extra power for me to be able to succeed. I’ve been training in it a little bit over the last week, conjuring up small amounts of water in some of the dry creeks we’ve been passing by, but that’s the easy stuff. It’s when I get to the stuff that’s conceptually heavier that worries me. I don’t want to overextend myself and expect to be able to do something, then not be able to.”

The still air suddenly picked up, as a light breeze worked through the plains. Iceheart looked away, feeling a little awkward as everypony had stopped talking once more. Chancing a glance at the position of the sun, she saw it was beginning its inexorable descent to the west. “It is good to have you back, Trixie. However, I believe we should start getting a move on again. If we keep good pace, we should have a few hours of daylight once we arrive in Manechester. That should be sufficient time to look around and, if it does not have its own inn, find a place where we can stay for the night.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Trixie said. All four turned around to continue marching, now as a single unit.

Manechester was quaint and rustic. Those were the words that Trixie chose to describe the village as they came up on it. There were no windmills that dwarfed the other buildings in the village, like in Trixie’s own hometown of Whinnychester. What the community lacked for in buildings that actually reached up from the ground more than a single story high, though, it more than made up for the fields of red that would have been a beacon to any pegasus flying overhead. To the distance, there was a large forest dense with greenery, unusual for its location in the great plains of east Equestria.

“That’s a lot of tomatoes,” Red Wings said.

“I’m sure you would fit right in,” Trixie teased him.

“What’s that supposed to me-hey!” He exclaimed as it finally dawned on him. “There’s more colours of tomatoes than just bright red, you know.”

“Yes, but none that I see here,” Trixie said. “Red, red, and more red. Not a purple or a yellow tomato to be found.”

“I could fly up and check,” Noire offered.

“That’ll be alright,” said Trixie as they cleared a turn in the dirt trail and started to walk downhill at a slight incline. Oh Princesses, does this ever feel like home. She had been away from Whinnychester for a mere few weeks, and already Trixie could feel the nostalgia seeping into her bones. They were even similar in their name suffixes, indicating both village had formed around an Earth pony fort in ancient times. Trixie just hoped that whatever they had come to Manechester for wouldn’t take so long that ennui would replace the nostalgia instead.

“Oh, good. Well, it’ll be nice to finally have a shower after several days on the road,” said Noire.

“I could have set something up if you wanted one,” Trixie said. “It would even have had heated water.”

Noire shrugged. “Too late for that now.”

The four continued to trot along, glad that soon they would no longer have to carry around the supplies in their saddlebags and bags hoisted on their backs. They hadn’t known how long they would need to go across the land on hoof for, and had packaged a lot of food, water and temporary supplies. After whatever needed to be done in Manechester was accomplished, they could head north to the city of Fillydelphia, only a short distance north, then take the train to the West Coast. From Vanhoofer, Trixie and Noire assured Red Wings and Iceheart, they would then go to Colt Springs, a small town home to the most powerful changeling on the continent.

That was to be for later, but Red Wings would still be glad to have a break from lugging around extra weight. Even better would be the chance to stay somewhere for a day or longer, where he could burn off energy flying instead of continuously walking.

“We’re here at last,” he said as they reached Manechester. Red Wings wasn’t actually certain if they were ‘in’ Manechester, though. There was no clear demarcation about where the town began, unlike larger settlements that typically had some sort of walled fortification from days gone by, or even a large sign. Instead, Red Wings decided that they were in Manechester as the trail changed from dirt to cut rocks. “Well, that was anticlimatic.”

“It’s not like we’re just going to find whatever we need to do the moment we come into town,” Noire said as the four continued past yet another field of tomatoes. “I hope we don’t stay too long, because otherwise I have a feeling I’m going to get sick of tomatoes.”

“Let’s see...there’s ketchup, salsa, tomato juice, pasta sauce, pizza sauce, um...tomato soup?”

Noire rolled her eyes. “There’s a lot more that can be done with tomatoes than just that, Trixie. Oh Luna, why am I even defending tomatoes now?”

“Hey, this isn’t any more isolated than Whinnychester was, and you managed to find lots of different vegetables just fine in the marketplace there. It’s not like you’ll be needing to eat tomatoes every meal, or even every day,” Trixie said.

Iceheart and Red Wings traded looks, finding amusement in each other’s eyes at the bickering of the two fillyhood friends.

It didn’t take long for the four to reach the heart of Manechester, as the buildings quickly began to be clustered closer and closer together, and the cut rock path gave way to a smoother road still. Pleasant smells lingered in the air, and the bustle of village life was present as they finally came to a plaza that appeared to be the centre of Manechester.

“Not bad,” Red Wings said, and he noted that he had been wrong in his assumptions earlier: Manechester did have a wall. However, the stone fortification looked like it had not been used in ages: only bits and pieces of the wall remained, with the arch they crossed underneath the only spot that looked to have been repaired in the last decade, doubtlessly to keep it from crumbling on anypony who might be walking underneath at the time. Red wondered how long ago the rest of the wall had been torn down.

Manechester wasn’t anywhere near the smallest settlement he had been to, and it was clear the villagers here took pride in their little hamlet. The plaza itself consisted of a large, paved circle that was probably used for outdoor events, with multiple roads coming off the plaza that reinforced its status as the town hub. To the one side of the plaza was a two-story building that Red Wings suspected was the only building that tall in Manechester, which was probably an inn or the village hall. It was most likely the latter, given there was a podium set up for ponies to speak up from.

In the centre of the plaza was a small pedestal with a statue standing on it, and a small water fountain right in front of the pedestal. Red Wings had to admit that whoever had carved the statue had done an impressive job: the statue, which was of an Earth pony stallion, was incredibly life-like, standing at just slightly larger than what he believed Princess Celestia’s height was. Though his eyes were closed, the stallion had a determined look on his face. Red noted that the position of the statue’s one raised hoof was a little bit odd: instead of being raised out in front of him, the hoof was only at about chest length, and bent inwards at the fetlock joint. Perhaps the statue was originally holding something? Red Wings thought to himself.

The statue wasn’t something he really cared for, however, and so Red Wings looked around a little more. There were a few food stalls open off to one side. With a little bit of perverse delight, he noted that there were in fact tomatoes that weren’t red being sold. Though there was still no obvious inn in sight, multiple ponies were in the plaza, engaging in idle chatter. A few had stopped talking, taking note of the four travelers who had just wandered into town a few hours shy of sunset, carrying heavy loads, with the accumulated dirt and sweat of a week on the road. At least one of them would know where to find a place to stay.

“So, uh, who wants to ask around?” Red Wings asked. He bit his tongue as he did. Normally he would have been unafraid to go and talk to strangers on his own for information, but something about being in a group again after so long, with his wing restored, had made him a little skittish. Red Wings despised it, and he decided to bull over his weakness. “No, never mind, I’ll do it.”

Trixie blinked. “Uh, sure. Just, um, later, I think we need to talk,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper as she looked around. “I can feel you being a little annoyed, I just want to know what’s got you upset.”

Red Wings gave her a flat stare.

“Uh, you know, Noire asked me the same question. Just paying it forward, heh,” she said, nervously giggling.

The stallion sighed, then chuckled mirthfully. “Sorry, just issues of my own I’m working through. We’ll talk about it later, yeah.” Turning around, he gave Iceheart and Noire a nod as he walked up to the mare closest to them, an Earth pony with a beige coat and blue mane, who broke off a conversation with another mare. “Excuse me?”

“Yes?” The mare asked, her voice a little cool. Red assumed it was simply due to his appearance, and hoped it wasn’t scorn for an outsider.

“We just arrived in Manechester, and were wondering if there is an inn in town. Failing that, do you know anypony who would be willing to rent out a couple of rooms for the night?”

The mare’s face softened. “Oh. Um. Well, if you take road three, all the roads in the plaza here are numbered, road three is that one, it’ll take you to Tomato Cato’s restaurant. It’s the one with the blue roof, but you’ll be able to smell it. He has a few spare rooms in the back he rents out to visitors and the rare tourist.”

“Ah, good. Thank you for the directions, miss,” Red Wings said, trying to be polite. It was a little difficult, considering how he had been more gruff than not the last few years.

The Earth pony mare smiled. “It’s my pleasure!” Seeing the conversation was done, she returned to speaking with her friend.

“We go that way,” Red Wings said as he returned to Trixie, Noire and Iceheart, pointing at one of the roads that came off the plaza hub. “Looks like there’s an inn in town, a hotel and restaurant all in one.”

“Oh, that sounds pleasant,” Iceheart said as the four begin to slowly drift in that direction. “Noire, do you dislike tomatoes?” She asked, making idle conversation.

“No, not at all,” Noire answered. “I just don’t like eating the same food too many days in a row, and given the fields of tomatoes we saw coming in, I’m guessing the variety here might be a little lacking.”

Red Wings winced. “The restaurant is called Tomato Cato’s.”

Noire scowled at that, before looking over to Trixie. “What do you think, Trix?” She asked, nudging the only unicorn in their party by tapping her with a wing.

“Sounds good.”

Noire rolled her eyes at that. “Don’t tell me you’re going to start giving me one-word and two-word answers again. Oh! That smells delicious,” the bat pony said, taking a deep whiff of the smell lingering in the air. “Maybe they’ll have bread bowls with tomatoes and olive oil, I could go for some of that right now.”

“Not mangos?” Red Wings teased, spotting the inn easily as they turned the corner.

“No, not mangos. Not all bat ponies like mangos. I don’t know where that stereotype came from, but you’ll end up with a bar room brawl if you mention that in one of the Canterlot night pubs. It has happened before,” Noire said.

“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever stay in Canterlot overnight,” said Red. “I don’t think we’ll be doing more than passing through it from Fillydelphia, though.”

“I should hope not,” Noire snorted, opening the front door to Tomato Cato’s with her wing, before the four trotted inside one at a time.

“Oh, welcome everypony!” Greeted a unicorn standing behind a bar. The unicorn, a light green in colouration, was holding up a plate with his magic that he was washing. “I’m Cato, the owner and cook here. What can I get for you tonight?”

“We were looking for rooms to stay for an indeterminate period of time,” Iceheart said, taking the lead. “Would you perhaps have a room for three and a room for one?”

Cato wrinkled his eyebrows, and frowned. “Sorry folks, but I only have two rooms available that serve two each, if that’s alright with you.”

“Hmm,” Iceheart said. She took a look around at the restaurant, with only a few tables in the dining area, before taking a look at Red Wings. Recalling the small size of Manechester, Iceheart quickly decided they would not find another hotel in the village, and relented. “That is acceptable. Red Wings, you and I will sleep in the same room, if that is not an issue.”

“No, it’s not,” he said, refraining from rolling his eyes. Considering they weren’t a species that normally wore clothes, he thought the mares had been a little too concerned about their decency at night, but Red wouldn’t begrudge them for it.

“Very well. In that case, what will be the price?” Iceheart asked Cato. “We are uncertain how long we will be staying, but I expect a reduced nightly rate the longer we stay.”

Red Wings startled as he realised what was occurring. He didn’t have a problem with Iceheart dealing with the innkeeper, but why wasn’t Trixie? He opened his mouth, only for his jaw to snap shut as he looked over at Trixie. She had a disinterested look on her face. It was the same expression that she had had over the last few days. Trixie had gotten better just a few hours ago, and had been outgoing as they came into Manechester. Without his even realising, she had suddenly relapsed into whatever this was.

What was going on?

Red resolved to find out. I wish I could have bunked together with her instead of Iceheart. Then I could ask her right away once we get to our rooms. He flushed as he realised what he had just thought, then decided he meant it anyways. Red Wings enjoyed being in Trixie’s presence, but only when Trixie was the mare he had originally met, not this odd, apathetic pony.

Buuuuut, perhaps it should wait until after we’ve had our showers, he decided as Iceheart finally wrapped up her negotiation with ‘Tomato’ Cato. It would be nice to finally get the filth and sweat out of our coats after the week on the road.

An hour and a half later, Red Wings found himself back downstairs in the dining area, looking out the window. The sky was beginning to darken as sunset was only a half-hour away. It seemed tonight was a slow night for Tomato Cato, as he and the proprietor were the only ponies in the front area.

“So where are you folks all from? Well, the Crystal pony is from the Crystal Empire, obviously, but what about the rest of you?” Cato asked, making idle conversation while anticipating a future dinner order from the four ponies who were now letting his spare rooms.

“Iceheart is from the Crystal Empire, yes. Trixie is from north of Fillydelphia in a village called Whinnychester, which I imagine is a lot like this place. Noire’s hometown is for her and her alone to talk about,” Red Wings said. He had learned a lot of the life stories of the three mares while walking with them, having little else to do for seven days but to chat. “I’m from the west coast, though, just southwest of Los Pegasus.”

“Oh? You’ve come a fairly long ways away from home, then,” said Cato.

“Yeah. We met up in Dodge Junction a little while ago, during the cherry-growing season,” Red said. He decided to hedge on how they had met by telling partial truths with irrelevant facts thrown in. If Cato decided that the four ponies had encountered one another while working on cherry orchards, then who was Red Wings to correct him?

“That’s neat. I don’t think you’ll find many farmers needing extra help here, though,” said Cato. “The tomato farms are more year-round here, so we’re usually well-balanced for labour.”

“We’re not here for a job,” said Red Wings, noting out of the corner of his eye Noire walking in, almost dragging Trixie with her. “We’ll be going up to Fillydelphia shortly, but we decided to stay a little while somewhere small before continuing. We got to know one another well in Dodge Junction and decided to stick together.”

“Trixie and I knew each other before then,” Noire said, taking over in the conversation. “Do you make bread bowls, by any chance?”

“Yes, I have a few on hoof, though I’ll have to de-thaw them. Did you want to order a meal now?”

“We’ll wait for Iceheart. Do you know how long she’s going to be, Red?”

“Not too much longer,” Red Wings said. “She was out of the shower by the time I left, so I think she just needed to dry off and groom herself first.”

“Ah,” Noire nodded in acknowledgement, before turning back to Cato. “Sorry, Trixie is just being a little quiet tonight, she’s normally more talkative than this. Trixie, are you hungry?” She asked.

“Sure.”

Red Wings frowned, only for his ears to perk up at the sound of the back door opening, followed by the hoof-clops of Iceheart walking in. Cato’s face brightened up instantly, no doubt hoping to milk his customers slash renters for every last bit. Red decided to delay their order for a little bit and instead investigate to find out whatever it was in this town that might need Trixie’s help. “So, Cato, were you born here?”

“Hmm. Oh, yes, sixth-generation born-and-bred,” said Cato. “I lived a few years in Fillydelphia when going to culinary school, but otherwise I’ve been here my full life. It’s a nice, quiet little town, if that’s what you were wondering.”

Noire caught on to what Red Wings was doing, and she said, “I imagine if you learned cooking in the big city, some of your fellow chefs at least would have heard of Manechester, famous for its tomatoes, right?”

Cato snorted in amusement, though he looked a little antsy. Perhaps waiting for us to order still, Red Wings reflected. “Yes, tomatoes are undoubtedly our most famous product, along with the tomato juice and paste we manufacture in town as well. It’s a shame sometimes, but a pony can’t help but love tomatoes when he grows up in Manechester. Hay, I did my part, promoting my hometown’s products to my fellow chefs-in-training when I was in school,” he said, puffing out his chest.

“I hope you will not be too offended if we order something other than tomatoes for dinners while we are here,” said Iceheart.

“Oh, pfft, nopony eats tomatoes all the time here. Even the legendary Apple family doesn’t eat apples all the time,” Cato said, as he picked up a glass in his magic to clean with a wash cloth. “But yes, tomatoes are probably the only thing we’re known for. We haven’t had any monsters come out of the Black Forest just west of here for probably, oh, fifty years. That’s probably the last time the newspapers in Baltimare or Fillydelphia even remembered this place existed.”

Iceheart creased her eyebrows, looking for something else to talk about. “Really? No small-town heroes? No famous magician or writer to come from here?”

“Not really.”

“Wait,” Red Wings interjected. “What about that statue? Did the pony who carved that come from here?”

Cato blinked. “What statue?”

Red Wings frowned. “You know...the statue in the plaza? The one of the stallion?”

CLINK!

Three ponies in the room jumped, while the fourth one stood still, only just tilting her head in surprise. Cato, however, stood still, an expression of shock on his face. Nopony moved, finding themselves in an odd stand-off, until Cato finally shook his head, clearing his fugue state. “Oh, right. You wouldn’t know,” he said, before looking down and picking up the shattered glass with his magic.

“Know? Know what?” Noire asked.

Cato paused, before dumping the glass in a garbage bin behind him. Turning around, he sighed, a melancholic look on his face. “You’re outsiders. It’s just...well, that’s…”

“That’s not a statue.”

Author's Note

In the event you haven't noticed, I love ponifying the names of cities and towns from the U.K.

Hoping this arc won't be as long as the last two.

Eldest: The Wall

To Red Wings’ consternment, Cato had refused to elaborate on his line about the not-statue. Instead, he took their orders for dinner, removing a few items out of an icebox, then stated he was going to be back in several minutes before rushing out the door.

“What was that about?” He pondered. “That was kind of random.”

“Maybe he was going to go get somepony else?” Noire suggested. “It sounds like there’s some sort of story behind the statue, or whatever it is. Maybe they had a hometown artist who sculpted the statue, only she later went evil and used her statues to take over Manechester?!”

Red Wings just looked at her, and said, “You’re certain you were a military pony? You seem to have far too active an imagination for one.”

“I didn’t used to. I blame it on spending several months around Trixie, eh Trix?,” she asked, nudging said unicorn in the side. “Trixie, seriously, what is it with you these days? You’re in that mood again.”

“I’ll explain later.”

Noire scrunched her nose, and her ears drooped. “Seriously. Fine, but it had better be a good explanation.”

The four sat around after that, waiting for Cato to come back. Red Wings felt himself relaxing in his seat, shifting from a bipedal sitting position into an all-fours position. “Ahhh, I could use a nap just about now,” he said, nuzzling his head against the soft back of the seat.

Suddenly, Iceheart gasped.

“Wh—what is it?” Red asked, springing to attention.

“I think I know what Cato meant about it not being a statue,” Iceheart said, her eyes wide open.

“Why? What did he mean?”

Red Wings didn’t get the opportunity to find out, as Cato came back into the restaurant, slightly out of breath. “I’m back, and I brought company with,” Cato announced, as another pony walked in behind him.

Red Wings’ first impression was huge, and then he wondered how much larger the Earth pony might have been when he was younger. The stallion was undoubtedly attractive as well when he was younger, but liver spots and sagging cheeks marred his white-furred face, tousles of black and white hair hanging in thin, loose strands. A thin, stubby beard hung from his chin. However, age was finding the Earth pony a tough opponent, as his yellow eyes shone with a supreme will and fire that could not be quenched. As it was, the stallion stood larger than anypony else in the room, with nopony else even coming to his withers.

“Good evening, everypony,” said the stallion, and Red was glad that at least his own voice was deeper than the other’s baritone voice. “It is nice to meet you. I am Hadrian.” He held his hoof out.

Red Wings accepted the hoofshake. “I’m Red Wings.”

Noire did likewise, “My name is Noire,” followed by Trixie, and finally Iceheart.

“Ah, a Crystal pony,” Hadrian remarked. “I had heard about the Crystal Empire returning, but you are the first of your kind I have seen in pony.”

“It is alright if you want to look,” Iceheart said, noticing his eyes lingering on her coat before darting away. “I am aware many ponies are intrigued by our crystalline coats.”

Hadrian chuckled. “Thank you kindly, Miss Iceheart, but I would be more interested in hearing about your own past and the Crystal Empire. I am old, and it has been some time since I have last left Manechester. I love to hear the stories of those few who come into Manechester, and I fear if you leave, I will not get a third chance to hear from a pony who lived a thousand years ago.”

“Wait, a third chance? Not a second chance?” Noire asked, having seized on the odd language.

“Your food will be ready in about ten minutes,” Cato suddenly said as he popped out from the back, where the kitchen was located. “Can I get anything for you, Hadrian? Tea? Cider?”

“Just water for me. If I am to tell these travellers about your father’s and my past, then my throat will run dry without some refreshments.”

“Of course,” Cato said, quickly pouring out a glass of water with ice and levitating it over to the table, before finally retreating back into the kitchen.

“Ah, that’s a good lad there. He doesn’t quite take after his grandfather, but then, his generation hasn’t had to deal with the issues mine did.”

“What issues would those be?” Iceheart asked.

“Oh, right. Urh-hem!” Hadrian cleared his throat. “Cato said you wanted to know about the statue, right?”

Red Wings frowned. “Not precisely. We just sort of wanted to know a little bit about the town, mentioned the statue, and then he ran off to fetch you after claiming it wasn’t a statue.”

“Aha!” Hadrian said, stomping the floor with a hoof. “Not a surprise, really. Cato knows I love to tell stories, so he figured he’d grab me. Well, I’m your stallion.”

“So then, how is it not a statue?”

“Hmm, where to start,” Hadrian said, rubbing his chin with a hoof. Despite his age, the Earth pony still seemed to be in amazing shape. Whereas Cato had been slightly panting upon getting back, the elder stallion hadn’t even broken a sweat, and clearly had no mobility issues at his age. “Well, forget about the statue for the moment. I promise you we’ll get to it, but there’s a whole lot of backstory behind it. This story all begins about fifty years ago.”

“Fifty years?” Noire asked, before covering her mouth up with a wing. “Oh, sorry. I’ll try not to interrupt anymore. I just remember that Cato mentioned the last time the village would have made the news was about fifty years ago.”

“Aye, that’d be correct. Anyways, fifty years ago, I was on the cusp of stallionhood. Those were the days,” Hadrian chuckled again, and Noire’s ears twitched in annoyance at his very casual manner of speech. “Well, I say those were the days, but nostalgic as I am, I can’t ignore how dangerous the past was for all of us. Tell me, did any of you see the Black Forest when coming into Manechester?”

“The forest to the west, I presume,” Noire said. “Yes, we did see it. I found it rather odd that it was there, considering outside of that forest, the terrain is grasslands as far as the eye can see.”

“Yes, well, the Black Forest grew around a magical font of some power, or at least that’s the prevailing theory. Manechester was a lot smaller in those days because of the Black Forest. Back then, many fearsome predators came out of the Black Forest.”

“Oh?” Iceheart asked. She had faced down Windigos, so anything else was tame in comparison. She did, however, recall some of the creatures that lurked in the Everfree when she delivered messages there. Though Iceheart had stuck to the safe passages, she recalled warnings of some of the monsters there.

“Yes. Manticores came out of there on a weekly basis, and every night, you could hear the timberwolves howl. Every so often you’d get a chimera stomping out from one of the swamps too, though we easily chased it back every time. It was after the hydra came out that the town finally decided to put together an active guard.”

Iceheart was startled to realise Hadrian wasn’t really talking to them anymore. The stallion was looking past them, gazing back into the past, reminiscing of days long past.

“It was officially called the Manechester Perimeter Guard, but everypony agreed that it was a terrible name, and we settled on The Wall as our nickname. We were six, and we were the best of friends. There was me, of course; Antonine, who was one of the farmponies around here and who designed the town’s irrigation system; Severan, Cato’s grandfather and the original owner of this place; Anastasia, one of our weather pegasi; Offa, another farmpony; and finally, Stonehenge, the eldest amongst us, our leader.”

Hadrian sniffed, and his eyes were obviously watery. “We weren’t just friends. We were the best of friends. We trained together, we slept together, ate together, laughed together, and bled together.” The elder stallion finally broke off for a moment to pick up his cup of water, taking a sip before putting the drink back down. “Sorry, I get a little emotional every time I talk about this. I got past it a long time, it’s just that talking make remember those times more than I care to.”

“That’s alright. I have some idea of how you feel,” said Iceheart, attempting to reassure Hadrian.

He waved it off. “Anyways, we were a tight-knit group. We trained together, even went up to Fillydelphia to learn from the Royal Guard stationed there in fighting techniques for a while to improve our teamwork. Not a single one of us died staving off the worst the Black Forest had to throw at us, did you know? Severan and Offa were unicorns, Antonine and Anastasia were pegasi, and Stonehenge was an Earth pony. We worked together with our talents and covered for one another’s weaknesses, and within six months the excursions from the Black Forest went from a torrent to a trickle. Then we started going into the Black Forest.”

Iceheart, Noire, and Red Wings all tensed at Hadrian’s last words, expecting the worst.

Instead, Hadrian laughed. “It was exciting! We thought we were going to face dangerous creatures that would shred us apart as soon as we left our backs exposed, but quite honestly, nothing of the sort ever happened. Once we started trampling over every predator in the place, our overconfidence was more dangerous to ourselves than anything else in the forest.”

For the first time in ages, Iceheart found herself twitching with annoyance. He baited us by making us think something bad was going to happen, I know it, he really did!

“Well, it wasn’t just all fighting and more fighting. When we called ourselves The Wall, it wasn’t just a name. You might have seen bits and pieces of it still around today, but there was originally a full-sized stone wall going all around what used to be the entirety of the residential area at the time. Manechester has since outgrown the old wall though, and lots of ponies live out in farmhouses now instead of walking from here to their fields every day. Anontine designed it, and we built that wall with our own hooves, wings and horns, and trained the rest of the watch. If a creature ever came out of the Black Forest, the watchponies would alert us and we would move out to repel the creature.”

“Then one day, the monsters stopped coming out. It seemed like we had finally outlasted the forest. We scoured the Black Forest thoroughly, looking in every nook and cranny, mapping out several caves, trying to ensure there wasn’t a single nest of pests left. We didn’t want anything to come out and bite us in the flanks for being too cocky for our own good. There was a parasprite infestation in Fillydelphia just a few years ago, for example, but they’ve popped up all over Equestria on occasion in the last several centuries, usually breeding in forests before appearing in the open. We made dang certain there wasn’t a single parasprite in the Black Forest.”

By this time, Cato had finally come out, four separate plates hovering in his magical grip. He laid each one of them out, before sitting down on another chair himself. Even if he had likely heard the story before, even the unicorn was engrossed in Hadrian’s story.

Iceheart briefly looked at her fellow ponies’ meals. Noire had ordered a thick tomato soup in a bread bowl, with a layer of melted cheese over top; Red Wings had a pasta of some sort, complete with tomato sauce; and Trixie had gotten a simple lettuce, tomato and carrot salad. Iceheart had gotten herself an assortment of grilled vegetables, with tomatoes as the centre dish. She salivated merely from the scent and sight of the food: it had been difficult to get fresh anything besides berries and fish in the North.

Sheepishly, Iceheart snapped back to attention. For their parts, the four that had come into town had been waiting for the ‘but’ to drop that they sensed was waiting for them at the end of Hadrian’s tale. It finally came.

Hadrian let out long, deep, weary sigh. “We were thorough. We even brought in experts from an anti-monster agency after, and they agreed with us. But we still missed a spot.”

And there it is, Iceheart, Noire, Red Wings and Trixie all simultaneously thought.

“In one part of the Black Forest there’s a grove of trees that can grow so thick they’re wider than six ponies standing in front of one another, from muzzle to tail. We didn’t realise that the trees could rot from the inside out, but one species of creatures managed to dig out a hideaway in a tree. Do you know what type of monster I’m talking about?”

“Cockatrices,” Iceheart instantly answered, having known since before Cato had returned back with Hadrian.

Even as Trixie let out a gasp, Hadrian raised an eyebrow. “You’re good,” he said.

“The Royal Sisters held their court in the Everfree Forest a thousand years ago. I sometimes delivered messages from the Crystal Empire at the time. Though I never ran into one, I was warned about cockatrices and how to flee if I should ever run into one,” explained Iceheart.

“Well, that’s understandable. I think the cockatrices are still extant around the Everfree Forest, but nowhere else in Equestria. But anyways, we missed a cockatrice nest that was growing in our own backyard. Once they had bred out of control, with no other predators around to keep it in check, they came into town.”

“That’s not a statue, then!” Noire said, before she nearly choked on the bit of food stuck in her throat. She beat her hoof against her chest for a second, before grabbing some water and drinking it. “Sorry,” said Noire, a bit red in the face from her choking episode.

“No, it isn’t,” Hadrian confirmed with a nod. “A cockatrice has the upper body of a chicken and the lower body of a snake, for those of you who didn’t know, and its magic is capable of turning to stone anypony it makes eye-to-eye contact with.”

Oh, Red Wings thought as he felt unsettled, suddenly finding it difficult to swallow his food. So that’s what Cato meant by that not being a statue.

“One day, a flock of cockatrices came out of the Black Forest. We were unprepared for it, but we still had a watch on the wall, and we quickly executed our evacuation procedures. We of The Wall, however, went out to stop the cockatrices. We attempted to push them back into the woods for the first few minutes, before we quickly decided to execute them all.”

Hadrian shrugged as he saw a few slack looks, and at least one mouth hanging open. “Don’t give me that look. Ponykind has been taming and pacifying the land for several thousand years. What, did you think monsters only lived in a tiny few spots all across Equestria? Pah, what nonsense. No, we’ve been domesticating those animals we could, and killing anything that was dangerous and which couldn’t be reasoned with. In the case of the cockatrices, when Antonine was first petrified, all bets were off.”

“It was Stonehenge who struck upon the novel solution of blindfolding himself. Well, I say ‘novel’, but really, the rest of us thought it was an insane idea. Most ponies who know about cockatrices just know about their ability to turn somepony to stone, but cockatrices have a poisonous bite capable of knocking out the average equine. They can also wrap their long tail around a pony and constrict him, causing asphyxiation.”

“That’s—that’s horrifying,” said Red Wings.

“It is,” Cato nodded from the side. “Grandfather told me his stories on many occasions, but the cockatrices always struck me as especially terrifying.”

“Well, in the heat of the moment, it wasn’t that bad. I mean, we were definitely horrified when Antonine was turned to stone, right up until we slaughtered the cockatrice that got him, and the effect wore off. When that happened we were more reckless than we had any right to be, thinking it wouldn’t matter as long as we killed all of them.” Hadrian stroked the stubby beard on his chin with his hoof. “Well, we were still careful. I like to think we were a well-knit group, and when Stonehenge blinded himself, the rest of us fell back to support him, telling him when to expect another cockatrice, occasionally beating off the cockatrice that tried to wrap around him, and generally herding away all the chickens towards Stonehenge and away from the village.”

“It was a flawless fight. The only mistake we made was not knowing that the nest had a king.”

Iceheart furled her eyebrows. “A...king?”

“Aye, a king. Well, that’s what we called it, anyways. It was definitely male, and it was three times larger than any of the other cockatrices. We were stunned when we first saw it, coming up the rear. Severan and Offa tried to kill it with spells, and the spells just bounced off its scales. Our formation fell apart there: before, we were able to snipe at the cockatrices from the side while Stonehenge was a wall unto himself, but we couldn’t stop the king from getting in close.”

Hadrian stopped talking to take another sip of water. Thunk! Went the cup as he slammed it back down on the table. The elder stallion took a deep sigh, before his eyes stared off into the distance.

Nopony said anything for several awkward seconds, waiting for Hadrian to resume. In the end, it was Cato who spoke up instead. “He doesn’t really like this part very much. Grandfather and all the rest feel they failed Stonehenge.”

“We did,” Hadrian said, his voice much lower. “I was the first one to realise the danger the King Cockatrice posed, and stormed ahead of everypony else to fight it. After all, I was talented with two hooves and a hammer. I thought I could damage it, but it tossed me aside like a ragdoll. Severan tried to hold the damn chicken with his magic, and the backlash left him reeling in pain. Antonine and Anastasia tried to spear it from above with dive strikes, and both suffered torn wings for the result. It took us until after the fight to figure it out, but we think the bastard was absorbing magical power from the slaughter of the rest of his flock, somehow.”

“But you did defeat it,” Red Wings said. They had to have done so, or else Manechester would not be standing today.

“Aye, we did. I make it sound like some grand battle, but all that really happened was that Stonehenge tore his blindfold off to chase the king down. Offa gave him an opening to grab it by the neck, and he wringed the life out of that monster. The king cockatrice wrapped its tail around Stonehenge and tried to kill him in turn. Stonehenge outlasted the bird. It ran out of air first.”

“But...he still got petrified? No, how’s that even possible?,” Noire asked. “I remember the statue now. His eyes were closed!”

“The king cockatrice was probably doped up on lots of magic,” Cato said, as he took the four empty plates from the table and stacked them up one on top of another on the bar counter. “Even though Stonehenge had his eyes closed, the king cockatrice’s petrifaction magic was powerful enough that it still affected Stonehenge through his eyelids. Hadrian’s choice of words is correct: the cockatrice ran out of air first, because it didn’t realise that Stonehenge had it in a death grip. Once Stonehenge was fully petrified, no amount of constriction was going to make him run out of air.”

“So that’s why the statue, er, not-statue I guess had such an odd positioning,” Red Wings realised. “I had wondered why its one leg was up in the air like that: he was holding something in front of him, attempting to choke it. But wait, you said before that your one pony, um, Antonine I think you said his name was, was briefly turned to a statue before reverting. Shouldn’t the same have happened to Stonehenge?”

“That’s where it all became one cruel prank,” Hadrian said. “I don’t really know how intelligent the king cockatrice was, or if it was operating entirely on primal instinct, but it got the last laugh on us. All the magic it had absorbed from the death of its flock, it put to good use in its last moments. Stonehenge didn’t revert back after the chicken suffocated, nor after it decomposed in his grasp.”

“Do you know for how long?” Iceheart asked.

“Eh? How long what?”

“How long the magic is supposed to last,” the Crystal Earth pony replied. “Up in the north, when Windigos die, they leave behind magic-infused remains. The remains can last for hundreds if not thousands of years, causing snowstorm and cold weather in the immediate area, but they eventually lose their magic. I assume the petrification should be the same, in which case I was wondering if you know how long it lasts.”

“Oh. Interesting. I did not know that. I hope you’ll forgive an old stallion his curiosity, but I’d love to hear more about that later on. Oh, but maybe wait until tomorrow night, Antonine is returning from visiting grandfillies in Baltimare tomorrow, and Offa should be free as well.” Hadrian broke off, and grimaced, before he said, “Right, the petrification. Well, you’ve heard our town became briefly famous across Equestria fifty years ago and made the news. The cockatrice attack was part of that, of course, but it was also because we journeyed to Canterlot and asked Princess Celestia to come and restore Stonehenge to normal.”

Noire’s head jerked up in surprise at that. The Princess came out all the way here? Well no wait, he didn’t say she did, just let him finish the story.

Hadrian laid his head back against the seat, a small smile on his face. “The Princess received us most graciously in Canterlot. To our surprise, when she heard our request, she immediately agreed to come to Manechester, and moved up much of her schedule to do so. It seems Princess Celestia is more than willing to help ponies who have done their darndest to keep other ponies safe.”

“She does do that,” Noire whispered. Having heard many impressive stories about Princess Celestia, here she was, learning of another tale about the Alicorn of the Sun.

“Let me tell you, coming back was a lot quicker than getting there! Even with the train from Fillydelphia, it still took us two days to get to Canterlot. As special guests of her majesty, it took us only a few hours to get back on her royal pegasus carriage, and she regaled us with many tales of her exploits on the way back after we explained a little of our own stories. It’s a little bit of a shame, too, but the Princess coming to town was what made the news in Baltimare, Canterlot and Fillydelphia, not the tale of The Wall protecting a town against a cockatrice flock gone mad.” Hadrian sighed, before he tilted his head back down, facing forward with a grimmer expression. “Unfortunately, undoing the petrification spell was beyond her ability. According to Princess Celestia, it would take at least a century for enough magic to wear off before she could purify Stonehenge. That chicken knew what it was doing, with a half-life greater than any of our lifetimes.”

“So when he is restored, none of you will be around anymore,” Iceheart said.

“Aye, I imagine you Crystal ponies understand a little bit of that. Severan and Anastasia have already passed on, each in the last few years. It hurts, but we put Stonehenge in the plaza so we’re able to see him every day. Even our children won’t be around when he comes back to life, but hopefully some of our grandchildren will, like Cato here,” Hadrian said, pointing at the aforementioned unicorn.

“Grandfather Severan told me enough stories that I would much like to meet Stonehenge myself,” Cato murmured as he retreated behind the bar counter, and began to wash the dirty dishes. “He was an impressive stallion.”

“I hope you get to meet him, too,” Hadrian mumbled. “Stonehenge was my brother.”

Wisely, nopony was so callous to ask him if he meant his literal brother or metaphorical brother-in-arms.

Hadrian chanced a look out the window. “Oh, silly me, it’s getting dark out, I should get going. Thanks for listening to me, everypony, even if it was because Cato wanted to impress you all with a story over your dinner.”

“Hey!” Cato whined.

The old pony ignored him. “If you’re still here tomorrow, I’ll stop by again. I would love to hear some more about the Crystal Empire, too, Miss Iceheart."

“It would be my pleasure,” Iceheart replied.

“Good then! In that case, toodles,” Hadrian said. He stood up, wiping off his coat with a hoof despite not eating a crumb, and then walked out of the restaurant.

“Well. Wow,” was all Noire had to say in the wake of the story they had just been told.

“Yes, that’s a common reaction when ponies hear about the tragic tale of Stonehenge of The Wall,” said Cato, who had moved on from the plates to the glasses, which he was now washing out and polishing to a shine. “The rest of The Wall, with some help from Canterlot, combed through the Black Forest for a second time after that to make sure there were no more nasty surprises. They didn’t find any. The Wall disbanded, and the wall, the physical stone wall that is, was disassembled bit by bit over the years. Now we just leave a few pieces up as a historical relic.”

“So it really wasn’t a statue after all,” Red Wings mused.

“No, it is not. The Wall fought hard to put Stonehenge out in the plaza, but after the first few weeks, any resistance to the motion crumbled. The petrification magic works in weird ways, so that he’s indestructible while he’s been turned to stone, so it’s not like we even have to worry about somepony accidentally breaking it, unlike a certain statue. Ah, sorry, that might sound a little callous,” Cato apologised. “We got a little detached about it over the years. Oh, would you like some dessert, maybe some tea or coffee?”

“Wha—oh, no, that will be fine,” Noire said, looking over at Trixie, who had been quiet for nearly the entire night. “I think we’ll be going out for a little walk first, actually, before we come back.”

Trixie actually took note of Noire’s words, and she nodded. “Yes, I think we will be doing that,” Trixie said. Noire frowned, feeling weirded out by Trixie’s monotone.

“Going to head back to the plaza?” Cato asked, and then smirked when he saw some surprised faces. “I’ve seen it before, ponies going out to take a look at Stonehenge once they hear the truth about what the so-called statue truly is. Don’t worry, I’ll leave the place open until you come back in.”

“Very well. Thank you for dinner, Cato. It was an excellent meal,” Iceheart said as she rose from the table. She gave Cato a brief curtsy, before leading her three friends out of the restaurant.

“I think we found what this premonition or feeling or whatever it is was directing us towards,” Noire remarked as soon as they got outside.

“Yes, it would seem so,” Trixie agreed.

Iceheart frowned as she sidled up next to the blue-coated unicorn. “Are you alright, Trixie? I would have thought you to be more enthusiastic than that. You’re not worried about collapsing from exhaustion again, are you?”

“Whatever.”

Red Wings took a few seconds to think it over, before deciding to throw caution to the wind. So soon after swearing his loyalty to Trixie, he didn’t want to press her. However, she had been acting odd, and it would be better if all three of them showed their concerns about her instead of just two. “Is something else bothering you, Trixie?” He asked, as the four ponies rounded the curve and ended up at the plaza.

“Nothing’s wrong,” said Trixie as they came up to the petrified form of the Earth pony called Stonehenge. The moon was beginning to crawl out of its hideaway on the other side of the world. It cast its moonlight on Stonehenge from behind, resulting in a long shadow that stretched across the pedestal, pond and plaza proper.

Now that Red Wings knew the true story behind the supposed statue, Stonehenge’s appearance looked more determined than ever. Red Wings couldn’t help but be inspired, feeling like Stonehenge’s acceptance of his fate was what Red himself should aspire to were he to find himself in a similar situation.

“Well, if you’re not up for it…” Red Wings trailed off, seeing the look on Trixie’s face.

“I’m up for it,” Trixie barked, startling the other three with the impatience in her voice. “Stand back. I’m going to try some magic here.”

Red Wings was a little bit nervous about letting a mare who obviously wasn’t quite in the right frame of mind perform magic, but he was conflicted. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened his eyes and backed away. In the side of his eyes, he could see both Noire and Iceheart giving Trixie some space as well.

The living wind howled.

The plaza lit up at once as Trixie’s horn glowed an intense violet, the same shade as her eyes. Noire felt a brief moment of sadness as she recalled the lovely green shade that Trixie’s magic had once been, before it changed. The magic grew in intensity until it was blazing like a miniature sun, before it suddenly dimmed all at once, and a purple glow surrounded Trixie’s body instead. Noire backed away some more as Trixie’s hooves began to lift off from the ground. The last time Trixie had used this type of magic, the unicorn had also unconsciously self-levitated, and Noire didn’t dare stay too close, suddenly all too aware of the possibility of a magical backlash now.

Noire, Iceheart and Red Wings all stood there for several minutes as the glow around Trixie got brighter and brighter, to the point each had to lift a leg up to shield their eyes against the bright magic. None of them dared speak a word in case they distracted Trixie.

I hope whatever you’re doing, you finish soon, Red Wings thought as he looked around, trying to see if anypony was coming. While the town was peaceful, a bright magic light coming from the plaza in the early night hours would certainly seem out of place. They weren’t precisely doing anything illegal, but if somepony was to come investigate, Trixie’s magic would look suspicious.

It felt a little weird, being on the outside of whatever Trixie was doing. Before, in the Badlands, Red Wings had felt the magic peripherally affecting him when Trixie was casting. It had been an odd sensation, something between an itch and being ticklish, only for his body to suddenly have another wing. His left wing hadn’t regenerated out of his body, either. One moment, it had merely been a nub. The next moment, his wing was fully restored.

Suddenly, the bright light disappeared, and the magic around Trixie fizzled out, with a soft thump as she landed back on her hooves. “Ooooh, I don’t feel so good,” Trixie said. She attempted to get back up, only to sway on her hooves, and nearly tripped over into the petrified form of Stonehenge.

“C’mon, Trix, we’ll help you get back to the inn. Red, can you help me?” Noire asked as she moved next to Trixie. She had one wing out, attempting to use a joint-pegasus lift, a technique that involved two or four pegasi carrying a pony underneath outstretched wings.

“N—no! I can do this!” Trixie exclaimed as she struggled back up, passion in her eyes for the first time in hours. “I felt something, I swear I felt something!” Trixie started casting magic again, her horn once more lighting up. For a few seconds, it looked like Trixie was going to do something. Then the light dancing up and down her magic sparkled out, almost like an electrical short-circuit, and Trixie visibly wilted.

The wind stopped.

“Curses!” She shouted, stomping her hoof on the ground. “Why is this so hard? It should have worked!”

“Trixie,” Iceheart suddenly spoke up, walking around and in front of the statue, blocking Trixie’s view of it. “I have mostly refrained so far today, assuming you were simply a little under the weather, or that the stress of this might be getting to you. I let Noire do most of the questioning and comforting. Now, however, now I know something is wrong, so please Trixie, stop this foolishness and tell us what is wrong with you.”

Trixie shivered underneath Iceheart’s sudden laser focus. Iceheart softened her gaze upon seeing Trixie looking so defeated, but didn’t let up.

“Al—alright, everypony. I’ll tell you. I honestly should have told you before. I was just scared you would have disapproved. Let’s just, um, go back to the hotel first, please?” Trixie attempted to take a step forward, only to feel greatly exhausted. She looked sheepish as she said, “Er, I think I’ll take that wing lift.”

Red Wings and Noire traded eye rolls, even as they both looked a little bit grim. What could Trixie have wanted to keep secret from them?

It had been a little bit difficult for Red Wings and Noire to get Trixie back to the restaurant slash inn and into her bedroom, having to drag her through the front area instead of conveniently flying her through an open window. The unicorn had been mortified when they explained it off to Cato as Trixie having been a little tipsy, especially when Red had smirked and coined the nickname ‘Tipsy Trixie’.

But they finally managed to get her into her room and onto her bed. Noire sat down on the bed opposite, while Red Wings and Iceheart took seats on two chairs in the room. “Alright, Trixie, spill,” Noire commanded.

“OK, um, where to begin…” Trixie trailed off.

“From the beginning,” Noire said. It was clear the bat pony was not willing to let Trixie ‘um’ and ‘er’ her audience into exhaustion.

“Yes, the beginning, that makes sense,” Trixie said, nodding furtively. “It all started in the changeling hive, when I was reading in the library. I had an epiphany: a Changeling could change. I healed Red Wings through magic that ‘changed’ him, but it was only ever a physical illusion. However, at one point in the Hive, when I was running on fumes, I considered the other half of the equation: could I change myself, not my body, but my mind?”

Noire’s eyes widened. She clued in quickly about what Trixie was saying. “Oh, Trixie,” Noire said, sounding sad.

“I’ve never been the nicest mare in my life, and I’ve never been the hardest-working mare, either,” Trixie said, and Noire could feel more than a tinge of self-pity in her friend’s words. “I pulled my weight on the farms of Whinnychester over the years, and I studied, but there was always a part of me that I despised. I thought I was too carefree, too easy-going, that I should stop taking so much delight in my own whimsy. There was a little bit of self-loathing at myself too, for being forced to drop out, especially when I was in the same generation as Miss Perfect Purple Princess.” Trixie punctuated that last remark with a sneer.

“What did you do?” Iceheart asked. She said it in a gentle, non-condescending tone, genuinely wishing to help Trixie, but also unwilling to let Trixie get off-track.

“Right, that.” Trixie sighed. “After I healed Red Wings, in those same few moments, I considered the possibility of turning the spell inwards on myself. The ability to trick reality itself into thinking ‘this is the way things should be’...I was proud of myself for the paradigm shift in my thinking that allowed me to pull it off. I mean, I built in safeguards so it wasn’t permanent, I could regress any time I wished, like I did earlier today, but it just wasn’t enough.”

Trixie seemed completely oblivious to the looks of horror on the other ponies’ faces, unaware of how much what she was talking about sounded like brainwashing. Nopony could stomach the idea of mind control, even if it was something Trixie had performed merely on herself for a misguided reason. “I tried my magic again with Stonehenge. I tried extending the concept of what I could do, to make the world believe that the cockatrice magic that had petrified him had finally evaporated. I couldn’t,” Trixie said, choking down a sob. Despite her best efforts, tears were flowing down the unicorn’s face.

Red Wings traded looks with Noire and Iceheart. There wasn’t a precise consensus for how to respond in their brief verbal glances, but he could tell all three of them agreed on one point: it needed to be made clear to Trixie just how foolish the endeavour of changing her mental being was.

“Trixie,” Iceheart went first. Trixie blinked through her tears. “First, please understand, we are not angry at you. We are concerned, and a little bit disappointed that you did not run this cockbrained idea of yours past us. But we are not angry.”

Red Wings’ eyes widened at how forceful Iceheart was. The Crystal pony was still being delicate in her own way, impressing that they weren’t angry, but Iceheart wasn’t holding back her tongue-lashing either.

“You believe that you are flawed in some way, Trixie. It is good to work towards being a better pony, and you have your moments of vanity. However, you are not a bad pony. Would a bad pony have done what she did to help Noire, myself, and Red Wings? Each of us had a problem we were consigned to living with for the rest of our life, Trixie, and you solved every one of them. I enjoy being able to travel and explore Equestria and the rest of this brave new world in this strange future the Crystal Empire found itself in. But I also enjoy going around places with you, Trixie. You were the one who designed and pioneered the very system of magic that has gotten you this far. Trying to change yourself through such artificial means, however? I cannot approve of it. I would miss the Trixie that I got to know.”

Red Wings wasn’t sure he had heard a more devastating statement in his life. Iceheart seemed to have dug deep, however, as Trixie started crying.

“I—I’m sorry, Iceheart. I—I really should have kn-known better,” Trixie managed to choke out between sobs.

“Hush, Trixie,” Noire said, climbing onto Trixie’s bed and grabbing the other pony, wrapping Trixie up with her two wings in a tight hug. “It’ll be alright. We’re your friends, and we’re all here for you. You were alone for so long, weren’t you?” Noire whispered. “We’re not just going to abandon you or anything, that would be foolish. No harm was done or anything.”

They stayed that way for some time.

“Would it be possible for me to speak with Trixie a bit?” Red Wings asked, before adding the qualifying word, “Alone, that is.”

Noire frowned as she looked up at him. Seeing a troubled look on the pegasus’ face, she looked back over to Trixie. “What do you think, Trix?”

Trixie sniffed, wiping some tears off her face. “I don’t have a problem with it.”

“Very well. Iceheart, let’s go to your room, then,” Noire said, unwrapping her wings from around Trixie and hopping off the bed. As Iceheart lead her out, Noire said to Red Wings, “Come grab me when you’re done, please. I think it’s been a trying day already, and after this, I just want to get to sleep.”

“Will do.”

As Noire and Iceheart left, Red Wings turned around. Trixie was beginning to compose herself, but she still seemed a little skittish about what he had to say.

“I’ve only known you for about two weeks,” Red stated. “We first met in Dodge Junction, spent less than a day out in the Badlands, then talked to one another off-and-on while living in the Hive. When you used your magic to do your, I guess, personality shift, I did notice. I didn’t say much, however, since I couldn’t have been sure that wasn’t who you were, and that maybe your earlier outgoing self was rare for you.”

Trixie said nothing, but she showed interest in what Red Wings was saying.

“I’m, er, not too good with words, and I know I’m stumbling over them, being tongue-tied. Public speaking skills hasn’t really been a requirement for me ever.” Red Wings sighed. Why am I wasting time on this? That isn’t important. Steeling himself, he said, “You saved my life, Trixie. I wasn’t going to kill myself or anything, but life as a one-winged pegasus was lonely for me. With time, I probably would have moved on from Dodge Junction and gone somewhere else, picking myself up what little life I had established there and tossing it aside. Baltimare was a no-go zone for me thanks to my incident with the guard there.”

Red laughed at that thought. “And then we went through Baltimare for supplies on coming up here! I was terrified, but merely being around you gave me strength to go into the city. Nopony recognised me, and even if they had, I had two wings. There was no way they could get me on that, heh.” It was nervous laughter, but Red let himself laugh anyways. It was better than keeping his nerves inside.

“But, you know Trixie...I grew to like you, even if you were a little insensitive at times. You took some hard knocks early in life from what you’ve told me, and you fell down for a few years, but you got right back up and powered through it.” Red Wings looked longingly to his side, where his left wing was tucked in with nary a scar. “I owe you, and I wasn’t kidding about being loyal to you forever. Well, if you turn evil on us and decide to become a madmare tyrant, that promise of fealty is revoked, but I mean, aside from that. You saved me, Trixie. I can’t repeat that enough. You did something that was thought impossible, all on your own. That was you, without any magic that induced a personality change to become more ‘serious’. From what Noire tells me, you were the one with the strength of will to break free from your depression, to leave Whinnychester and journey Equestria. You’re the one who’s managed to drag the rest of us this far.”

“So maybe you’ve finally met your match here? Princess Celestia couldn’t restore Stonehenge, and she said it’ll be at least another fifty years before it’s possible? Well, it can’t hurt to try, because the possibility is still there. I don’t mean what you did out there just earlier. I refuse to believe you could have ever healed my body when you were in a state of mind like that. I think only you, the real Trixie, could have done that. So, um, Trixie, please, try, try again. I urge you to make a second attempt, but this time with a clear mind. I won’t be disappointed if you fail, but I believe you can do it. So, um, believe in the me that believes in you.” Red Wings took in a deep breath, then exhaled. He felt as if he had poured his heart out to Trixie. Now he just needed to wait for her response.

Trixie was silent for several seconds. Then she raised her head up, and said, “You stole that out of a comic book.”

Red Wings laughed nervously. “I did, so I did. The drill that will pierce the heavens, and all that.”

Trixie chuckled as well. “I read a few comics back in the day. I didn’t find them entertaining on my own, but I loved to use material from them for the plays I sometimes put on. I thought that sounded familiar.” Slowly, the unicorn rose up from her sitting position, before hopping off her bed and onto the floor. “You’re right, though. It was a stupid idea to ever try turning my illusion magic inwards,” Trixie admitted. “I thought I could pull off something that would deceive the world, but all I did was deceive myself.”

“So you’re going to try again?” Red Wings asked.

“Yes, but not tonight, Red,” Trixie said, looking out the window at the moon. “It’s too late for that, and I’m tired. I feel motivated right now, but it needs to be more than that. I have to be in the right state of mind first, and getting there requires a little bit of philosophising to myself as well. The statue’s magic feels a little bit different than I’m used to, almost like the Windigo ice I encountered several weeks ago, and I also have to account for that. I need some sleep before I do all that.”

“That’s good to hear, then."

“Yes, it is. Really, thank you though. That was sweet of you. I needed that,” said Trixie. Her eyes shifted left and right for a moment, before she darted forward and kissed Red on the cheek.

“Wh—wha?” Was all Red Wings could muster up in response, dazed by the sudden surprise kiss, chaste as it was.

“Pity, I forgot your coat is the perfect colour to disguise a blush,” Trixie said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Come on, let’s go talk to Iceheart and Noire, they’ll want to hear about this.”

As she turned around, Red Wings followed on instinct. That turned out a little better than I expected, he thought.

Author's Note

The title of this chapter is about the only one that I really struggled with in the entire story, going from "Eternity" to "Eternal" before finally settling on "The Wall".

I'm not going to fashion a deep, rich, complex, logically-consistent magical system just for one story, but I will elaborate on something that has come up twice so far. In Phantasmare, any long-term magic such as an enchantment has a half-life much like atoms do. If a spell has a half-life of two hundred years, then after two hundred years the spell has half the magical power behind it as it did at the start. The Windigo ice had a half-life, and Stonehenge's petrifaction spell has a half-life. After many years, the magic on both of them will have faded enough that they could easily be destroyed by mages.

With the exception of Stonehenge, all the ponies from The Wall are named after real-world walls.

Eldest: Stonehenge Elderwall

Trixie had a habit of rolling around in her bed during the night, and it only got worse when she was on an unfamiliar mattress. As luck would have it, however, she had turned into such a position that when the first light of day broke through the flimsy curtain, it fell over her eyelid.

“Nngh,” Trixie groaned, tightening her eyelid before rolling over, burying her head back into her pillow. After a week walking from Dodge Junction all the way up to Manechester, she was greedy for sleep in a nice, warm bed, and Trixie would not be denied.

It helped that in her semi-conscious state of half-sleeping, half-awake, the things that pained Trixie could be buried deep.

Trixie’s lips curled up and she wrinkled her snout, trying to repress the whimper that threatened to come out. She hadn’t been entirely honest the night before. Yes, Trixie had cast a spell upon herself to focus her state of mind to become more serious, more devoted to her practice, and less whimsical. However, there had an extra benefit that Trixie had left out.

The scars left behind by the Alicorn Amulet, and the trauma from the Ursa Minor incident still remained with her. For a few glorious days, even as Trixie slept in a tent on hard earth, wind whipping away at the canvas, she hadn’t once dreamed of those two things. But now, the Alicorn Amulet haunted her still.

It had been good while it lasted.

She grumbled when she realised she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again instantly. Turning around, she opened her eyes and faced the curtain. Trixie cast a spell, dragging a spare blanket that had been set to the side, and hanging it over the lone window. Satisfied as the room fell into a pitch darkness again, Trixie rolled over back into her original sleeping position.

Let’s see, what can I think about? Trixie thought. A marvelous method for getting back to sleep over the years that she had discovered was to think about things, typically boring things, that still needed to have some thought given to. It didn’t take too long for Trixie to think of something: the magic that had petrified Stonehenge.

There had been something odd about it. It didn’t work the way normal magic should. Of course, Trixie had never actually encountered a cockatrice statue before, so she had no baseline to compare this one to. However, compared to other magic, it felt off. Even just inspecting the statue with a magical scan had been difficult. Where her magic had bounced off the Windigo ice, creating a tingle in her horn, here, her magic seemed to simply turn inert as soon as it came within the field of the statue. Both effects were so wildly beyond Trixie’s normal understanding of magic that it left her troubled.

But she had defeated the Windigo ice. Though it had required the help of the Crystal Heart, Trixie was also fighting against the magical residues of multiple Windigo remains. Compared to that, the magic of a single cockatrice was nothing.

But that was just it: it was more than one cockatrice that had fueled the spell. Trixie felt a little uneasy about the idea that somehow, all the cockatrices that had been slaughtered before their king had powered its own magic to the point it could paralyse a pony with his eyes closed, and leave a petrifaction spell that required a century before the most powerful pony in the land could even think about undoing it. Trixie always felt a little trepidation every time her mind wandered back to that fact. Princess Celestia herself couldn’t even do it.

Nay, forget Princess Celestia, there was that other one, the Princess of Magic. Could she do it?

Trixie grit her teeth, wishing she could fall asleep now. It had been a blissful few days, even if she knew better now that her spell had been a bad idea. Trixie didn’t want to think about her, but her mind was Trixie’s worst enemy, constantly seeking ways to turn her train of thought onto the perfect pony princess, she who had saved the realm so many times they may as well rename the land after her.

OK, think about something else, Trixie. Back to the statue. Right, the statue. It wasn’t just the magic of the statue. Trixie wasn’t foolish. She could see that every time she was using her illusion magic on something big, she was extending her idea and concept of what illusion magic could actually do. The first time, with New Moon, Trixie had cast a spell that merely created a visual illusion, somehow altering New Moon’s Cutie Mark too as the bat pony had taken on the name of Noire. That had been done with the aid of the magic of the Black Moon.

With the Windigo fossilised remains, it was the first time Trixie had reached beyond the common conceit of illusions as fooling the physical senses of others, and into the idea of tricking the world itself into thinking that this was the way such-and-such should be. It was still such a heady concept that it left Trixie wobbly on her hooves when she tried to think too much about it. It was no wonder she always had a fainting spell of some sort since the first time with the Windigos. Forcing her mind to change its own understanding of how things should be, just so it could trick the fabric of reality into also believing that this was how things must be, was frankly exhausting on its own, even before Trixie brought her magic into play.

Back on track, Trixie, she prodded herself. Right, so that was the first time that had happened, where she had changed how reality interpreted things should be, and said ‘There is no windigo ice here’, and reality had obeyed. Even then, she had needed the aid of the Crystal Heart to neutralise most of the windigo ice’s magic even temporarily, as well as her own magical stores, her changeling energy, and much of Noire’s magic as well. All she needed to do was focus on the Windigo ice as a physical object, not as a physical object infused with Windigo magic.

Then Red Wings was next, Trixie thought, remembering the uniformly red Pegasus and the joyful look on his face. It had been that expression Trixie always looked to inspire in the faces of fillies and colts, but Trixie knew she would never be able to see something like that in one of their faces. No pony merely watching a show could match the joy of a pegasus who had his wing restored, and Trixie was certain she would never go wanting for that small part of her she had inherited from her father that could store emotional energy.

But Red Wings’ wing had been one step above merely being a physical object. It was an organic thing, a complex body part, which made it so much more dangerous and complicated to reject how reality was and assert this was how reality was to be. It was also the first big thing Trixie had done that had been unassisted by any power source. It was so much more than a simple rock being turned into a marble, or small pools of water being conjured from nowhere.

Trixie wasn’t sure what that premonition was that had led her from Dodge Junction to Manechester, instead of going west to Colt Springs, but she was thankful for it now. She had found another roadblock in her journey. Though the unicorn despised being used, she also knew that every little way she could improve the magic she was pioneering from scratch would help Trixie when she met the changeling above all other changelings.

But that’s also the problem, thought Trixie’s darker side, the one that nagged at her and sometimes told her she should go find another magical artifact to abuse. You aren’t sure if you can surpass the obstacle in front of you this time.

And Trixie wasn’t. Because there was a clear trajectory in what she was doing. First, something that merely fooled the senses of others, anchoring it in magic to make Noire’s new form permanent. Next, something that erased a physical object. Afterwards, creating an organic form out of scratch, and attaching it to a still-living pony, with no side-effects in the process. And now, she had to reach beyond the physical plane, and into the realm of magic. The metaphysics of understanding how to square a magical curse with her power to fool the world was giving her a headache, and she had just barely begun.

First, Trixie would have to figure out how to get her magic merely to be able to interact with the statue, and not lose its potency. Then she would have to relay, through the framework of her illusion magic so powerful it could trick all of creation, a thought. And Trixie still didn’t know what that thought would be. Should it be something like ‘The petrifaction magic never took hold’? It could backfire on her, and reality might spite her by aging Stonehenge fifty years in a second, thinking that if the petrifaction magic had never took hold, then so his age should never have been frozen either.

No. Right now, the best idea she had was ‘The petrification magic has finally worn off’. It was getting there, and Trixie making herself believe it before making existence itself believe it in turn, that was going to be difficult.

With that thought about trying to mash metaphysics and thaumaturgy together to come up with a bastardised hybrid that had been left out in the sun too long to bake, Trixie finally fell asleep.

The key to everything was Red Wings.

It wasn’t that his case held some special philosophical significance that Trixie could derive from. Really, she had to start fresh with her latest case.

Rather, it was because even with the muted senses of a changeling that she had inherited from her father, she was practically on cloud nine just from feeling him.

Quite honestly, it was intoxicating, and she could see Noire was the same. “Why aren’t you up there, flying along with him?” Trixie asked Noire, standing next to her.

“Are you kidding me? How could I take away from a moment as happy as that?” Noire asked, casually deflecting the implication she’d be flying like a drunk if she were.

“I assume that means Red Wings is in a very good mood right now?,” asked Iceheart.

It was a beautiful morning out, with just a little bit of a chill from the morning dew. Trixie had trudged out after getting up, following the road down to where she knew her friends to be, just outside another one of Manechester’s few remaining gates. Ponies and the odd donkey were out and about already, picking tomatoes, sorting tomatoes into crates, and loading up tomatoes into crates to be taken up to the nearest train station.

The four weren’t anywhere close to running low on their funds, and Trixie and Noire had in fact gotten a minor top-up from the changeling hive in the Badlands while visiting. However, Trixie was certain if they absolutely needed, they could acquire additional funds by working for a few days on the tomato orchards around Manechester.

For now, however, she was determined to have some relaxation time, and it was for that that they had found a small meadow outside of Manchester’s decrepit walls where a few other younger ponies were already frolicking. While Noire and Iceheart seemed content to just sit down on their haunches and laze around, Red Wings had taken to flying.

Even after a week, the euphoria the red pegasus felt was stunning. Trixie closed her eyes, feeling a few tears of joy leaking out. I did good there, she admitted to herself. She watched as Red flew through the sky, gliding along the warm thermals, occasionally doing a trick such as a loop-de-loop or diving and then reversing his dive. Red Wings had said it would be weeks at a minimum before his wingpower would be back up to what he once had. Right now, however, his mere joy was enough to lift Trixie’s own spirits. Even some of the Manechesterites, unaware of Red Wings’ backstory, seemed to be delighted by the stallion’s pure joy, infectious as it was.

“So what are you doing, then?,” asked Trixie. “I took the opportunity to sleep in for the first time in nopony knows how long, but you two got out here earlier than I did.”

“Noire asked me to teach her a little bit of what I knew about Earth pony magic,” said Iceheart. “Honestly, I did not acquire much that I could help her out with. My resistance to cold was my own in-born trait, refined through several expeditions into the frozen wastes, and my experience with fighting Windigos is not something that can easily be adapted to other purposes.”

“But you still learned things,” Noire insisted.

Iceheart conceded the point with a nod of her head, and said, “Yes, I did. Earth ponies are intrinsically linked to the very earth itself. Even when there are several hooflengths of ice between our hooves and the land, that connection was always there, calling to us.”

Trixie listened to the Crystal pony, interested as well in what she had to say. Trixie had never really bothered delving into the magic of the other two pony tribes, even if she was able to make a passing impression of their magic by proxy of the changeling traits she had inherited. Even Noire had not bothered to diversify until just recently, settling for the weather manipulation magic inherent in all pegasi and bat ponies. Now, however, Trixie had little else to do, not wanting to currently think about the petrified Earth pony waiting for her back in Manechester’s plaza.

“It may be a little odd ponies such as you two, who can summon gusts with your wings or levitate objects with your horn, and I realise I am barely scraping the surface of what is possible with your magic,” Iceheart continued, tongue fully in cheek, “But Earth ponies can also ‘ground’ magic, for lack of a better term. It is why we rarely get magical sicknesses: the magic foreign to our body is dispersed by our connection to the earth.” Iceheart paused, and added, “It is the same for curses and magical attacks. Of course, Sombra figured out the weakness every Earth pony shares: if we lose our connection to the earth, it no longer works. He permeated the land of the Crystal Empire with his dark magic before brainwashing most of the citizenry.”

Trixie and Noire both shuddered at how nonchalantly Iceheart mentioned the former king’s evil deeds.

“I do not know how much of it is known in Equestria today, thanks to the passing of time, but before we went into stasis, there were a number of pagans in the Crystal Empire who believed in Mother Earth as being her own sentient entity. Of course, they also believed Mother Earth favoured her Earth ponies, closest to the land. I do not put much stock in it, given how we were fighting Windigos,” Iceheart said. “But it is a fact that the Earth pony segment of our population turned out the greatest number of those resistant to the cold, and I presume it is that same connection to the land that helped us.”

“But how much of it is a passive ability, and how much of it is an active skill?” Noire asked.

Iceheart furled her eyebrows. “It is mostly a passive ability, but it is not as if it can be trained. Many of the superequine feats that you sometimes hear about Earth ponies is from those rare few who trained themselves, such as say, perhaps a mare who can throw a giant rock several hundred feet, or grind the same rock to dust with her same hooves. Even my ability to tolerate the cold grew with practice and understanding my body and magic. I once had to bulk up with many layers of clothing. Granted, it was even colder during the days the Windigos were around than it was when you came to the fortress, but still, over time I was able to strip off a few layers for greater mobility.”

“Go back to that part about grounding magic,” said Trixie. “Could you improve your passive talent in that area to basically dissipate any magic thrown at you in a battle?”

“Yes. Yes you could,” said Iceheart, looking up at the sky, her eyes tracking Red Wings, who was now flying upside down. “I would love to see how the Hearth’s Warming Eve tale has changed over the years, but...during the time of the Three Tribes, the Earth ponies were treated horribly, from what I understand, though the Crystal Empire was an entity unto itself even then. However, legends abound of a hoofful of Earth ponies who broke free of the yoke of tyranny of the other races. They learned their own race’s magic, and were able to shrug off lightning bolts and magical attacks alike. However, all they were able to do was merely keep the unicorns and pegasi from enslaving the Earth ponies, not put the three tribes on even hoofing.”

Trixie patted her hooves around nervously. It was never nice being reminded of what utter jerks her ancestors had been. Maybe they didn’t see any option, but to Trixie’s modern-day sensibilities, the unicorns that were many generations beyond her grandparents were not paragons of virtues to emulate.

“Well, I want to learn, anyways,” Noire insisted. “Whatever I can."

Trixie frowned. Iceheart’s lecture had given her an idea. Trixie was able to emulate what Earth ponies could do, though only to a small degree, restricted by her changeling heritage being the lesser part of what and who Trixie was. Nevertheless, the idea of grounding negative magic was an inspiration to her.

Perhaps she had been tackling the issue of Stonehenge the wrong way?

Trixie found Stonehenge again. It was all too easy, given the Earth pony hadn’t moved a hoofstep in fifty years.

“Who were you truly, Stonehenge?” Trixie whispered to herself. The other ponies in the square regarded her curiously, before moving on. No doubt many other ponies had talked to the not-statue over the years (and though Trixie was certain petrified ponies had no awareness of the world while turned to stone, even a pony talking nonsense to them would be a helpful distraction if that were not the case), and Trixie would just have been one of many.

In Trixie’s case, however, she wasn’t talking at the statue, but to the statue. “How many ponies who knew you forgot your voice over the years, your eyes, the way you could smile, frown, or look confused? How many ponies could soon only remember you by the look you have right now, the look of determination at killing a monstrous cockatrice? Were you scared? No, that’s a silly question. Of course you were scared. But you went out there and fought anyways, and you lead your friends into battle. I wonder what you left behind? Parents? Siblings? A wife? Foals?”

“No foals or no wife, thankfully, or else that would have made Stonehenge’s story more depressing,” a soft voice said from behind her, and Trixie nearly jumped. She swung around to face the new pony, an old mare with a dark green coat and a tail with alternating lime-green and lemon-yellow stripes. “He flirted with a mare his own age from time to time, and while she never quite moved on, she did find love again later on.”

Trixie spotted the mare’s horn, and the spots of dirt and tomato juice that clung to her legs. “Sorry, but might you be Offa?” Trixie asked.

The elder unicorn blinked, then smiled. “Yes, that’s me. I overheard what you said about Stonehenge. I take it somepony already told you about The Wall?”

“Yes. Me and some friends of mine came into Manechester yesterday, and we’re staying at Tomato Cato’s place. He had Hadrian come over and tell us about The Wall’s formation and your fight against the cockatrices.”

Offa shook her head, making an audible ‘tsk-tssking’ sound. “Of course he would. Cato misses his grandfather. I think he hopes we’ll have some new story about his grandfather every time he has us over at his restaurant, even though we exhausted all our tales a long time ago.”

Trixie had nothing to say for that, so she fumbled around, looking for a new topic to speak about, now that she had one of the mares who had fought so long ago standing right in front of here. “I’m surprised they took the wall down,” she said.

“It didn’t go without a fight,” Offa replied. “But after the agency from Canterlot helped us go through the forest and use every last spell they knew to make certain the place was monster-free, and the lack of monster attacks for several years following that, the wall came. The stones were used to build the plaza and a few stone houses, but we managed to keep the gates preserved at the least. The cities have all sorts of old relics that ponies there love to brag about, and we felt that at least some small part of the wall should remain.” Green eyes settled upon the statue with a hint of longing, and with a startle, Trixie realised which mare it was who had moved on in her feelings for Stonehenge. “I’ve always wondered what will last longer, the gates, or Stonehenge standing here in the plaza?”

Trixie chose not to say anything.

“But that’s just an old mare talking, one who still shows up to work every day to help pick tomatoes, wondering where life went. It used to be Stonehenge was the eldest of us. Then one day I woke up and realised I was older than he was when he was turned to stone. It may not have been the day The Wall officially disbanded, but it was the day we finally all went out separate ways,” Offa whispered that last part.

Those words struck Trixie. She had only known Iceheart and Red Wings for a short period of time, and suddenly, Trixie found she couldn’t bear to be separated from them. It would be a cruel thing for Trixie to be taken this world early, as if she was a marionette on strings, leaving her friends with a massive hole in their hearts.

“I’ve seen your ilk here, before,” Offa suddenly said. “Many a unicorn has thought she had a novel idea that might work and end the spell early. You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The magic just goes dead as soon as it touches Stonehenge.”

“It becomes inert,” Trixie offered as an alternate word.

“Yes, that’s a good word, it becomes inert, I like it,” Offa agreed. “I spent many of those dark first days trying to find something to heal Stonehenge. When we went and actually got Princess Celestia to come here, I had my hopes up, thinking the ruler of our nation, who has been around for thousands of years, could fix it. When she couldn’t, I raged for many days. I owe Anastasia more than I was ever able to pay her back during her lifetime for putting up with me during that time periods. Nowadays, we hold vigils by her and Severan’s graves, and by Stonehenge,” she said fondly.

Trixie again said nothing, even when offered the chance to speak up.

“Well, there’s no harm in trying whatever hare-brained idea you might have,” Offa continued. “I like to believe that every time someone uses magic of some sort on the statue, it dissipates away a little bit of the cockatrice magic.”

Trixie’s eyes widened at that word. Dissipate? Yes, Iceheart did say the same thing, didn’t she?

“The magical half-life of the spell is simply too long, though.” Offa sighed. “Had I been younger, I would have gone to the School for Gifted Unicorns, and tried to find a solution, even if it took me an entire lifetime. Alas, I was too old, and so I stayed home, took over the family orchard, found another stallion, and raised my own family.” She looked up at Stonehenge’s petrified form, looking at his closed eyelids. “It’s selfish of me, but I still wonder what might have been. I remember his voice, even now. It was deep, the deepest voice I’ve ever heard in a stallion, but it never scared me, he was always in good humour, even when we went hunting. It’s his eyes that I remember most, though. You would think he and Hadrian truly were brothers. It was eerie how close their eyes were, both that piercing yellow.”

Offa turned around, smiling at Trixie. “Thank you for listening to me, anyways. I’m getting older every day, and I feel the need to talk more and more about back then. The dwindling amount of time we old folks have does something strange to us. It gets more and more urgent for us to tell our stories, even if we’ve already told them many times before.”

“It was no problem at all,” Trixie said, genuinely appreciating what the other mare had told her. “I, um, I used to travel between many small villages, coming from a town like this, except it grew wheat instead of tomatoes. I put on magic shows, but I also told stories, many of them, be they fables, stories from other land, or even skits I came up with on my own. I know the value of a village wanting to have its own story to tell.”

“That’s nice,” Offa said, sounding suddenly disinterested. “Will you be in Manechester long?”

“Probably for at least a few more days,” said Trixie. “I am here with friends of mine, and it will be when we have a general consensus to move on and travel some more.”

“I see. It was nice to meet you, ah…”

“My name is Trixie Lulamoon,” Trixie supplied.

“Ah, it was nice to meet you, Miss Lulamoon. I was going to go see my grandfoals before I got distracted. I can’t leave them waiting any longer.”

With that, Offa left the square. Trixie wrinkled her nose. The elder mare had seemed pleasant for most of the conversation, before suddenly growing standoffish at the end. Trixie wondered if that had anything to do with what she had said about being a storyteller and magician.

No, that wasn’t it, she thought. It felt more like she was jealous of me for escaping the village I grew up in. It wasn’t a surprise, truly. Trixie had met more than one filly who desperately desired to get out of her backwater ponydunk town, and she knew some never would. In Offa’s case, having to daily see the petrified form of a stallion she had once loved, never changing, might have embittered her even more.

Trixie couldn’t fix that. That was out of her purview, and no amount of magic could solve it. She could try something to affect the mind, but the mere idea of trying it on somepony other than herself left Trixie’s stomach roiling in revulsion.

Instead, Trixie turned to look at Stonehenge again. She noticed new details every time she looked at the statue. For example, his eyes weren’t just close: they had been shut tight, with the skin around his muzzle slightly stretched in a frown, no doubt trying to keep his eyes protected from the cockatrice’s petrifying stare. The slightest hint of teeth could be seen in between lips. There was faint scarring on the frog of his upraised hoof, perhaps developed from fighting monsters, or maybe just an accident while working on a farm. The more Trixie looked, the more she wondered how she could ever have mistaken this for a statue.

“They’re all wrong, you know. Hadrian is wrong, Offa is wrong, yes, even Princess Celestia was wrong. You won’t have to wait another fifty years. I’ll find a way to get you out,” Trixie whispered, before finally turning around and heading back to the inn.

“Hoho, did you really have to go rescue your soldier out of a snow drift?” Hadrian asked, chortling as he slammed back a shot of whiskey.

“Yes. He was overconfident, so the others made certain the rookie did not forget it for many months after,” Iceheart said. The mischievous look on her face was so rare to her that both Trixie and Noire made note of it.

“But at least he caught the fish!” Hadrian laughed, slamming the floor hard with a hoof.

“Yes, yes he did!” Iceheart said heartily. It had been quite a long while since the last time she had been able to let loose. She had never really been a very outgoing pony to begin with, and when leading two hundred ponies in a post where very day brought the potential of death with it, Iceheart had become even more restrained. Here, several hundred kilometres away from home, with friends who were not also her subordinates, Iceheart had found the opportunity to trade war stories of a sort with another old soul.

Well, I am not really an old soul, but I think being stuck in stasis for a thousand years counts, Iceheart thought. She had held back on the alcohol, sticking to a single shot just to be polite. Hadrian, however, had downed them at a startling frequency.

“That reminds me of when Severan went fishing one day,” Hadrian recounted with fondness, stroking his beard. Cato could be heard in the background groaning, leaving Iceheart little doubt it was an embarrassing story. “I don’t really remember most of it, but he fell in the water, and when he came back up, he had speared a fish right on his horn!”

The wizened stallion laughed out loud again. Iceheart’s own chuckle was more restrained, and she decided not to encourage him anymore for the night. It was clear Hadrian was near or even past his limits. Any more, and somepony would have to drag the Earth pony home.

“Ah, I remember when Stonehenge saw it,” Hadrian suddenly continued, sobering up at the mention of his friend and brother lost to stone. “He coined a new nickname right there for Severan, ‘spearhead’. It didn’t stick, maybe because we were worried Severan might gore us one day, but we got a few good days of mileage out of it. Ah, good times, good times,” Hadrian said, relaxing against his seat.

Iceheart found herself floundering, lost in the sudden emotional whiplash in the restaurant, much like how she imagined Severan himself had once floundered in the water of the fishing pond. Iceheart decided to take the opening Hadrian had offered her, fishing for more information about Stonehenge. “What was Stonehenge really like?” She asked.

Up on the bar counter, Trixie’s ears perked up, having been engaged in small talk with Red Wings. Noire had retired to bed early that night, having been tired out from practicing Earth pony magic with Iceheart.

“Oh, him,” Hadrian sighed. “Stonehenge, he was, well, he wasn’t a saint. Time has coloured some of my memories. He could occasionally be a jerk, and he played mean-spirited pranks sometimes. But that doesn’t detract from the Stonehenge I remember. We all looked up to him as our leader. It was more than him just being the eldest of the group: he had a unique charisma and drive that lifted the rest of us up. Even after he was gone, it took a long time for the rest of us to fall apart. Then, of course, we made up again in our old age,” he added with a smirk.

“I’ll say. So this is where you were hiding out Hadrian, at the good ol’ water hole.”

Iceheart raised an eyebrow at the entrance of the two newcomers. She identified the one mare with green coat and lemon-lime mane as being Offa, having been told about her by Trixie earlier. The other pony was new to her, however. Though he was old and had a little bit of a limp, the pegasus still carried himself well.

“I’m Antonine, and this is Offa,” the pegasus said, introducing both himself and his companion. Iceheart’s gaze lingered on him for a few seconds, before she finally clued in why he seemed so familiar. With his golden-brown coat, mane with grey and darker grey stripes, and purple eyes, he could have passed for the hero of those adventure books Iceheart had seen many ponies reading on the train, if Antonine were forty years younger and a mare.

“Hah! The old water hole was the stuff of legends, my friend,” Hadrian declared. “Calling a bar and restaurant a water hole just doesn’t seem to fit.”

“Good evening. I am Iceheart. Over at the counter are my friends Trixie and Red Wings,” Iceheart said. She didn’t think she needed to specify who was Trixie and who was Red Wings, given only one of them had wings and was red.

“Nice to meet you, Iceheart. Hadrian, why didn’t you tell me you found a Crystal pony?!” Antonine asked, grabbing the other stallion in a headlock and giving him a noogie with his free hoof.

“Ack, no touch, no touch Ant!” Hadrian squawked, pushing the golden-furred pegasus off him. “They didn’t even come in until yesterday afternoon, and it was me Cato grabbed to tell them a story, not you.”

“Honestly, I would have thought you’d have stopped roughhousing by now, but it seems colts never grow up,” Offa said, rolling her eyes. However, the smile on her lips betrayed her thoughts.

“Well, we’re here now, so maybe we can tell more stories. I’m certain my daughter will be impressed I got to meet a Crystal pony before she did. That’ll teach her to traipse across the south looking into old ruins,” Antonine gloated, sitting down

“If she ever returns, you mean,” Hadrian snarked from beside Antonine.

“Oh come now, she returns once a year,” Antonine groused. “Granted, she spends most of her time sitting in her room typing, but I can still pull her out and get her to give me the unadulterated tale. Maybe next time she’s home we can finally convince her to write about us instead!”

“Knowing our luck, we’ll be in the fiction section,” Offa said, sitting in next to Iceheart in the booth. “Cato, I’ll take an order of hay fries, and be generous with the mayonnaise!”

“Ah, yes auntie,” said Cato, scampering into the back where the kitchen was.

“Auntie?” Iceheart asked.

“Oh, I’m not his actual auntie,” Offa said. “However, we were all the best of friends back in the day, so there were many occasions where we foalsat one another’s brats, and for Cato, calling the rest of his uncles or aunts stuck.”

“It should be great-aunt, though,” Hadrian pointed out.

Offa scowled. “Now you’re just making me feel old.”

“But you are old!” Antonine said in jest.

Iceheart watched as the three bickered in good humour with one another. She couldn’t help but be envious of them. We had the looming threat of Windigos to the north and the Witch King sitting on the Crystal Throne to the south, and I was their leader. Truly, Trixie coming along was the best thing to ever happen to me.

“By the way, Hadrian, you and the lass were talking about Stonehenge right before we came in, right?” Antonine asked.

It took a few seconds, but Hadrian eventually nodded. Nopony at the table missed his eyes watering up.

“I miss Stonehenge,” said Antonine. “I still feel like it’s my fault, y’know? If I hadn’t gotten petrified and then reverted to normal after you guys killed the chicken who did it, Stonehenge might not have gotten overconfident.”

“Oh, Antonine…” Offa said, but was unable to stop Antonine from continuing to pour his feelings out.

“I know, I know, I’ve said it a hundred times, and I’ve heard it a hundred times, it’s not my fault. None of us could have known, especially not Stonehenge. But it still gets me, thinking about what it must be like from Stonehenge’s perspective. He choked the king to its death, thinking that even if he was petrified, he would be right as rain again in a few seconds. He wouldn’t have known he’d be stuck there for a hundred, two hundred, three hundred years.” Iceheart was startled to see the boisterous, lively Antonine suddenly sag in his seat, his long face setting the mood.

“You’re right, he wouldn’t have known,” said Hadrian. “None of us would have known. If he hadn’t stepped up and choked that damned chicken, I would’ve done so. Yes, it would be heartbreaking to suddenly find myself off in the distant future, all the friends I grew up with and knew all dead, but I wouldn’t have regretted it either. Anything to stop that chicken from getting into Manechester, and wiping all of us out.”

The three elders shared a sigh. Hadrian took out two more shot glasses, and shared a third each with the other two.

“To Stonehenge’s memory!” Hadrian proposed.

“To Stonehenge’s memory!” The other two concurred.

As one, they tilted their heads back, downing their drinks.

Iceheart thought it was one of the saddest things she ever saw.

“Enough.”

“Hmm? What? Oh, sure, I suppose I’ve had enough drinks tonight,” Hadrian said, turning around to face Trixie, who had just spoken.

“Not that. I mean, enough of this, this sadness,” Trixie said, pressing a hoof against her forehead, seemingly staving off a migraine. “It’s like you ponies were beat down once, and you gave up hoping long ago. Is this what I’ll be like if I fail even one more time, this time with others depending on me?”

“Hold your tongue,” Offa said sharply. “You said you travelled as a showmare when you were younger, right? Maybe you saw some sob stories that you solved, and you felt good about it. Well, it’s good of you to have helped others, but that doesn’t give you the right to judge us—”

“No!” Trixie shouted, and Cato quickly came out from the back side. Trixie hopped off her bar stool, and stood up on her hind hooves. “I won’t let myself fail tonight. I won’t lose hope, not like I did the last two times I fell down! Come, we’re going to go see Stonehenge!” With that declaration, Trixie fell back onto all fours, before leaving the restaurant. Red Wings looked baffled, jaw hanging open slightly, but the pegasus flapped his wings and was quick to fly out right after Trixie.

“What does she think she’s doing?” Antonine asked, his hooves trembling. “No, she’s just another showoff. She’ll fail like all the rest,” he said, but that didn’t stop him from jumping off his seat and heading out as well.

Offa’s eyes were wide, still stunned from Trixie cutting her off, but she moved as fast as a mare a third her age in following Antonine.

Hadrian looked at his empty shotglass. Then he looked back up at Iceheart. “Your friend has got a big heart, Miss Iceheart. You should come with to help her pick up the pieces when her heart breaks. From what Trixie said, when her heart breaks again.” Hadrian wobbled a bit as he got out, clearly still inebriated, but he made a good show of striding out with a calm posture.

Iceheart briefly thought about grabbing Noire, then decided to let the bat pony sleep. Instead, she faced Cato, who seemed to be uncertain about what to do. “You should hold the hay fries,” she advised. “You might just be seeing a new, old face in town.”

With that, Iceheart got up, leaving the restaurant. As she opened the door and took a step outside, Iceheart let the cool night air wash over her, before following the audible commotion taking place in the plaza. I hope for all of us that you can pull this off, Trixie. But after seeing what you did both for me and Red Wings, I believe you can do this.

I can’t believe I actually said that.

In truth, Trixie had been bluffing just a bit. Even as she made long strides along the short walkway connecting Tomato Cato’s restaurant to the village plaza, Trixie wasn’t one hundred percent confident she could do this. Granted, she hadn’t been sure about the last three times she had pulled off a major spell, but she was less sure about this than she had been with Red Wings or Noire. Trixie would still rate her confidence level above when she had encountered the Windigo ice, however, and that was good enough for her.

However, once the distance between her and the pedestal in the plaza centre shrank to nothing and Trixie found herself standing in front of Stonehenge, she found herself doubting.

“Bit for your thoughts?”

“I’m not certain I can do this,” Trixie admitted to Red Wings, and she suddenly wanted to go back to the pleasant, intimate one-on-one conversation she was having with him back in the bar.

Suddenly, something touched her. Trixie jerked at the contact, only to relax when she saw it was Red’s left wing, the one she had restored to him completely in form and function. She accepted the wing hug, blushing slightly as he held her close to him, enough that she could hear the thumping of his heartbeat through his chest.

“Well, I believe in you. You did restore my wing,” Red Wings said. He looked around for a few seconds, trying to find something extra to say, before adding, “And if you fall down again, then this time, I’ll be around to help you back up. You won’t have to pull yourself up like with the Ursa, or stay down for years after the Alicorn Amulet.”

A chill swept through Trixie, and she closed her eyes. It was a good chill, a warming chill. Yet she felt so weary now, so tired. How long had she been doing this, fighting the good fight, with insurmountable obstacles at every hoofstep? First an inadvertent change in her magical aura, then a star bear, then a dark magical amulet, followed by her father’s death?

No. She had friends now. They had said as much themselves. This time, if she stumbled, Trixie would get right back up.

There was an annoying buzz in her ears, of the other ponies who had come out to play. Trixie ignored them.

The living wind howled.

Trixie cast.

Through her conversations through the day, Trixie had thought she had an excellent idea on how to finally end the curse of the cockatrice that was affecting Stonehenge. However, with a little bit of thought, Trixie realised how dangerous the potential option was.

It was foal’s play to think of grounding out the petrification magic, except it came with at least two ways Trixie thought it could backfire. The first thing she could do was to somehow nudge time itself, making the world ‘think’ that enough time had passed for Stonehenge to finally be free from his stone imprisonment. However, Trixie was unable to fully hold the metaphysical idea in her head to do so. It hurt her to try contemplating and understanding it. Additionally, even if she succeeded, Trixie had to get the timing of how much time needed to pass down pat. It would not do good if she overshot, freeing Stonehenge, but in the process aging him another hundred years in a split-second and leaving him four hooves deep in the grave. If she erred really badly, she might age the entire world.

The other possibility would be to ‘speed up’ the right at which the earth underneath Stonehenge’s three hooves could absorb, dissipate and ground the cockatrice magic. However, that was not without potentially fatal consequences, either. Much like the issue of the precise right amount of time, Trixie risked turning the area into a localised magical black hole that would suck in any magic it could get. Trixie had heard of what Tirek had done: a magical black hole might be able to grow in area so long as it consumed more magic, eventually sucking up all the magic in Equestria, it could not be reasoned with, and nothing could destroy it and force it to give back all the magic it had taken.

So that option was out. Even if Trixie had seen the faintest hope going down that road, she suspected whatever entity had pressed her to come to Manechester wanted her to grow her powers, not to merely find a novel solution that involved little flexing of Trixie’s illusions.

Nay, she would have to confront magic itself. This was going to be phenomenally more difficult than before. Then, Trixie had used magic to alter something on a physical level. Now, she had to use magic to fight magic itself.

She mentally snarled at that. She bet that if that perfect princess who was the Princess of Magic itself were here, she would have figured something out in an instant. Well, Trixie wasn’t her, and she wasn’t Princess Celesta either. But Trixie was Trixie, and she didn’t want to be the Trixie that had finally met her match. She wanted to be the Trixie that had taken on magic and won.

Hadn’t her father’s motto once been ‘Who dares, wins’, the same mentality that had lead him to meet her mother, ultimately resulting in Trixie’s own birth? She would be ashamed not to emulate her father, here and now.

For once, her experience with the Alicorn Amulet was going to help her. Trixie wished to forget the whole incident entirely: more than to just put it behind her, but to vaporise her memories altogether. Every day, when she woke up and took a shower, there was always that last niggling bit of grease on her soul Trixie couldn’t quite reach. Now, however, she was going to put those memories to good use. During her time with the Amulet, Trixie had felt detached from her body, her magical power so great that it felt like her mortal form was merely a shell, a vessel for a great power.

Trixie channeled that feeling, faded as it was from several years of time, and focused. Magic was a wonderful tool, yet an irrational one, interacting with the real world at not quite a right angle. Studies had been made, and yet new magic was still being made to this day. Trixie brushed aside the knowledge of a mare who had made her kingdom in the study of friendship. Trixie had her own friends now, and with them she had the will she needed.

There was to be no tricking the world into ending Stonehenge’s sentence through a clever alternative. Though the mental concept to hold was much more complicated and prone to failure, Trixie knew she would have to straight-up trick both the world, and magic itself, into believing that Stonehenge’s time as a statue was up.

Trixie pushed, and magic pushed back.

Trixie pushed harder, and magic lost.

The living wind subsided.

Trixie was certain she hadn’t fainted, and wondered if she was getting stronger. After all, this had been more arduous than the time with Red Wings, and yet she had merely gone into a fugue state this time. She was rapidly climbing out of it, not satisfied to sit in a hole and wait for somepony to pull her out.

“It...it can’t be,” she heard somepony speaking.

Then she heard another voice. Offa hadn’t been wrong. It really was the deepest voice she had ever heard in a stallion.

“Severan, is it dead?” The stallion asked.

“My Celestia,” Antonine whispered.

“I heard you, Anton. Did I kill it?” The stallion grew impatient when no answer came, and he growled, “Speak, Anton! Don’t tell me being petrified gave you a knock to the head too!”

Trixie managed to open her eyes.

It didn’t take her long to realise that, outside of his eye colour, nobody had ever actually mentioned Stonehenge’s colours. The moonlight didn’t dim his slate-grey coat one bit, almost precisely matching Noire’s colouring when she was New Moon. Where Stonehenge and Hadrian might have been brothers for having the same yellow eye colour, so Stonehenge and Antonine could have been brothers for having the same mane colour, with strands of alternating grey. The pony formerly lost to time still hadn’t opened his eyes, but Trixie imagined he had struck an imposing figure when he was younger. He really was larger than even Princess Celestia.

“Anton, I swear on our ancestor’s names, if that cockatrice didn’t paralyse me, I’d be choking you right now. I can’t see yet, so tell me: Is it dead or not?”

“It’s dead, Stonehenge,” Anton said quietly. “There’s something else you should know, too.” Trixie had to admire the pegasus. Even in what seemed to be an impossible situation, he still managed to recover in about a minute.

“What? Did one of them get away? I thought you said we got all the rest of them!”

“We did, Stonehenge, we did. It’s just, that cockatrice was a lot stronger than the other ones. When I was petrified, I changed back to normal within seconds. For you, it was far longer.”

Trixie felt the world suddenly swoon under her hooves. Oh no, she thought. Her eyelids protested being open one second longer, and she fought to stay awake and hear what was happening.

“Ha! So what, was I out for a whole day?” Stonehenge asked. Trixie tried frowning at the cockiness she could hear in his voice, but she was just so tired…

“No, Stonehenge. It was longer than that.”

“What then, a week?...A month? Did I miss the harvest? Please tell me it was that?” Now the uncertainty and nervousness was audible, odd in such a deep, booming voice. “A year?”

It ended up being Offa who broke the news. “Fifty years, Stonehenge. It’s been fifty years.”

Trixie swore she heard an anguished cry, but she wasn’t able to hear any more of it, as she finally flopped over.

There was a mirror right beside her. She thought there was something off about it, but couldn’t quite pinpoint what. It was a little fancier than the ones her family had owned, with a circular frame taller than most ponies with gold embossing of intricate patterns, but it was still a mirror nonetheless. She could see bits and pieces of her reflection from the side of her eyes, but wanted to see all of it.

With a few quick steps, she had walked in front of the mirror, and looked herself over. Violet eyes peered back at her, curious at her appearance. Her blue coat practically shined with luster today, and her mane shone in the light coming from somewhere, never quite able to fit in the spectrum between moonlight white and pale silver. She curled her lips up, and was delighted at how pretty her smile was. It was this look that had driven Einkorn mad in the past.

How odd. There was something hanging around her neck. She didn’t remember putting it on. There was a shiny red gem set in a triangular arrangement, with a unicorn head coming out of the top of the gem and, oddly, two red wings to the side. Red wings? Why did that sound so familiar.

She shook her head. Looking down at her own self, she reached her hoof up to look at the real necklace, and—

A sudden movement caught her attention, and she jerked her eyes back up to the mirror. Her reflection was suddenly smirking at her, red eyes gleaming with malice, and suddenly—

“Hello, Trixie!”

Trixie felt like she was falling, only to impact a bed. She took in a deep breath, her automatic breathing response having a misfire as her body went from sleeping to awake. Trixie brought a hoof up to her forehead, wiping a thin trail of sweat off. Hypnic jerks were never a pleasant way to wake up. This time, however, she thought it was a good thing. She had been having some sort of nightmare, though she couldn't remember much but for a brief glimpse of red.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Noire said from beside her, sitting in a chair, reading a Daring Do book.

“How long was I out for?” Trixie asked. She tried lifting her head up. It was a futile act, and she dropped her head back down.

“Only a couple of hours. We were worried that maybe you finally pushed yourself too far with this one, but it seems that’s not the case.”

Trixie yawned. “Oh, I guess that means Iceheart or Red woke you up.”

Noire shrugged. “Me and the rest of the town. I think you were probably the only pony who hasn’t been up for the last few hours. You caused quite a stir.”

The unicorn blinked, before bits and pieces of what she had done before earlier falling unconscious returned to her. “I did it, didn’t I?” Trixie whispered.

“You did,” Noire confirmed. “I saw Stonehenge earlier, when Red came to grab me and Cato to come out to the plaza.”

“What was he like?”

“I can’t really say. He was still stunned. Finding out you’ve been a statue for fifty years will do that to a pony. Of course, it seems he was bit by the cockatrice before he was petrified, and he was still barely able to move, aside from talking. They took him to the clinic. Dragged him, more like it.”

Trixie let out a weak laugh at that. “He is enormous, isn’t he?”

Noire nodded. “They weren’t kidding when they said he was huge, bigger than even Princess Celestia. There have been a couple of Earth ponies like that in the Royal Guard from time to time, but it always feels intimidating to meet a stallion like that, even if he’s on the ground and unable to move most of his body.”

Trixie closed her eyes. “What did Hadrian, Offa, and Antonine have to say?”

“Oh, those three.” Trixie couldn’t see Noire’s face, having closed her eyes, but she could imagine the bat pony frowning anyways. “Well, that was the first time I met Offa and Antonine, so I can’t really say what they’re normally like, but I don’t think Offa is normally a babbling mess.”

Trixie groaned. “I just realised I screwed up. I shouldn’t have done that in front of a crowd. Every time before, I only did it in front of one pony who wasn’t already aware of what I could do.”

Noire clicked her teeth. “Well, you can thank Iceheart and Red Wings for being on the ball enough to damage control. Red had Cato help him bring you back here when Red came to wake me up as well, and he told Cato all that happened was you had developed a spell that neutralised the cockatrice magic. He and Iceheart managed to keep that story straight, and him and Iceheart are still at the clinic, minimising your role in the story. As far as I know, the intend for only Cato and those three old ponies to know you were the one who de-petrified Stonehenge.”

“That’s good,” Trixie said, rolling over in her bed to face Noire. Opening her eyes, she said, “So, what? Do we go visit Stonehenge right now?”

“No, we don’t,” Red Wings said as he strode into the room, Iceheart right behind him. “The bite of an average cockatrice is supposed to knock out an average pony, so you would think the bite of a king cockatrice would knock anypony out, no matter if they’re as large and physically fit as Stonehenge is.”

“The nurse believes the poison may have lost its potency over the years,” Iceheart added.

Red snorted, showing what he thought of that theory. “Regardless, he was still awake when he left, though he seemed to still be a wreck. Maybe it’s cruel of me to to say it, but it may actually be a good thing he was left paralysed for however long. At least there was a little bit of lead-in to breaking the news to him, instead of him just instantly seeing his three friends, only much older than before, and a few other strange ponies, at a different time of day, during a different time of year, in a different location than where he took his last stand at.”

“Yes. It may be cruel to say, but it is also true,” said Iceheart. “I have seen many a pony under my command panic at small things. I cannot imagine how he would have thrashed about if he were still possessed of full control over his body, being a danger to himself and others. At least he will have time to understand the situation. Offa, Antonine, and Hadrian are maintaining a vigil around his bed. When we left, they were telling him many of the things that had happened over the years.”

“Oh, good. At least I didn’t screw that up,” Trixie said, sighing. She adjusted her position on the bed so she could see all three of the other ponies.

Red Wings frowned. “What do you mean, ‘screw that up’?”

“Oh, Trixie just thinks she ruined everything because she did her little magic show in front of three other ponies tonight. You know, beating herself up as usual, just like she was doing yesterday,” Noire said, making sure to lay it on thick.

The red-furred pegasus shook his head. “Trixie, I won’t lie, it’s been a hectic few hours, so maybe I sound a little annoyed. Trust me, I’m not. I can’t claim to even fathom what your magic is capable of, but so far, all you’ve done with it is good. You’ve heard Hadrian, Offa and Antonine talk. There was a hole in their hearts that’s been there for fifty years. No matter what they did, they couldn’t fill it, and then you came in and filled it in for them. Hadrian looked like he was in pain, having to tell Stonehenge about the two other ponies in The Wall having passed on, but except for then, I could tell he was overjoyed to have somepony back he thought he’d never see again.”

“Like a cliched ‘back from the dead’ story, except for real this time,” Noire said.

Iceheart cocked her head, seeing the book in Noire’s hooves. “Where did you find that book, anyways? It appears to be a popular series.”

“Oh, this? It was here in the room, I guess Cato leaves travellers some reading material—no, we’re getting off-track here. Ignoring Trix’s guilt-trip, what now?”

“Pardon?” Iceheart asked.

“She means, what do we do next?” Trixie asked, sidling up her back onto the pillow to lift her head up a little higher. “It’s sudden, I know, but Stonehenge has now been healed. Do we just leave town and finally head west to Colt Springs?”

“No, I don’t think so,” said Red Wings. “There’s still the matter of whatever was able to induce in us the feeling that we had to go north from Dodge Junction back then, instead of west.” He frowned. “Besides, I would have thought you would want closure first.”

“What do you mean?”

“He means that every time before you’ve done something big with your illusion spells, you’ve always informed the pony you’ve helped out about it before, and given them time to get used to the idea,” said Noire. “That, and spent a significant amount of time with us afterwards, getting to see how our lives changed. It’s different, this time, since Stonehenge was a statue. Sure, you saw him for however long before you fainted, but do you really want to pack up and leave town before really even talking to him?”

Trixie frowned. “When you put it that way…”

“If you’re feeling better in the morning, you can go visit then,” said Red Wings. “I don’t think those four will be getting any sleep tonight. I felt rude interrupting their reunion just answering some of their questions. I don’t really want to go see them until they’ve had their time together alone.”

Trixie chuckled at that. “Yes, and give me some time to feel like getting out of bed, too.”

“Very well. If that is settled, Red and I shall be retiring for the night as well,” said Iceheart. As she turned to leave, the Crystal pony added, “Oh, and Trixie? Please, really do stop feeling guilty. You did a great thing tonight. Ponies may have had wounds scabbed over by time freshly opened, but this time they will heal properly.”

It took Trixie several seconds to understand the metaphor, but when she did, she felt warm. “Thanks, Iceheart.” She gave the former commander of the North a nod of gratitude

Iceheart nodded back, before finally leaving the room. Red Wings followed, closing the door behind him.

Noire got up, and put her book away on the desk nearby. “Goodnight, Trixie,” Noire said as she extinguished the lights.

“Goodnight, Noire,” Trixie responded, trying to find the perfect position to fall asleep in.

However, sleep wouldn’t come to Trixie so easily. “Hey, Trixie,” said Noire from the other bed. “Do you remember when we were fillies and sleeping in the same room like this, when mother and father would turn off all the nights? We’d talk to one another, feeling naughty because we were cheating the reason behind the lights-out time, until we fell asleep?”

Trixie shifted uneasily. Nostalgia flooded her, of a time when she was just a filly going to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. It was a simpler time, when Trixie was able to run around Canterlot gaily on her days off with Noire, when both her parents and Noire’s own father were still alive. Now, she couldn’t imagine even sleeping in that same bed, Canterlot having all been barred off from her on the chance somepony there recognised Bellatrix Midsummer, and thought her magical aura seemed off.

But Trixie did remember those many nights she and New Moon had spent talking, before New Moon had become a guard, and the guard then became Noire. “Yeah, I do remember. What did you want to talk about?”

“Hmmm…” Noire trailed off, before she said, “What did you think of the train ride when we were coming south from the Crystal Empire? The Smoky Mountains looked gorgeous.”

So it’s going to be that kind of chit-chat? Well, that’s alright for me. I’m not really up for heavy talk. Trixie was glad Noire had made that decision. Trixie really didn’t want to think about more difficult things, like what to do now that Stonehenge was free.

The two fillyhood friends made small talk, and in no time Trixie suddenly drifted off to sleep. Her dreamless sleep was much more pleasant this time.

It took some effort getting out of bed that morning, but Trixie was able to manage. After a quick breakfast, deflecting Cato’s questions as she was eating, Iceheart took Trixie over to Manechester’s clinic. As the two walked through town, Trixie could sense there was a distinct buzz in Manechester this morning: it seemed news had spread fast, and just about everypony already knew the prodigal son had returned home.

However, just as they made it into the clinic, they were stopped in their tracks.

“I had never thought to have hope of seeing Stonehenge again in my lifetime, of hearing his voice, of anything but for passing his statue day after day, and eventually having my rest held in front of him,” said Offa. The green unicorn mare sounded so tired. For once, Trixie truly realised Offa was old, a pony whose best years had been long ago. “Last night was the first time in a decade I stayed up all night, not since the birth of my last grandfilly.”

“Offa, I—”

“No, it’s alright,” Offa said, interrupting Trixie. Trixie could see the elder pony’s eyes were bloodshot, and the fur of her cheeks had visible tear streaks. “I had fooled myself into thinking that it was a good thing that we would never see Stonehenge again. We would never have to break the news to him that he had lost out on so much time, especially when Anastasia, then Severan had passed. I was a coward to think that.”

There were more than a few ponies in the clinic lobby, some who it seemed had been waiting for a glimpse of Stonehenge whenever he left his room. They were all now listening to the thoughts of an old mare. “We talked for so many hours. It was when I realised all the little things he had missed out on, the birth of his many honorary nieces and nephews, marriages, deaths, that I finally knew I was wrong. If Stonehenge had finally been freed as the Princess predicted, in fifty more years or even longer, there wouldn’t have been a single pony he once knew left. We’ve been slowly leaving mementos and diaries for him, but trinkets can’t make up for the real pony.”

Both Trixie and Iceheart let the mare ramble, sensing Offa needed to get this out.

“The sad thing is, I can tell Stonehenge can’t remain in Manechester. Or won’t, rather. This may be his home, but we’ve all grown up even as he was turned to stone. I could already see him hurting, just as we too are hurting. Stonehenge was born a free soul, and if we try to keep him here, we’ll all suffer for it. He might stay a week, a month, even a year, catching up and attempting to re-connect with us. Eventually, he’ll leave to get away from all the pain.”

Offa let out a sniff, then looked back up. “However, now that it’s been done, I would never choose the alternative. I’m glad I got to see Stonehenge again before I died. Go on, Trixie and Iceheart, you can head in and meet him. Hadrian and Antonine won’t stop you either.”

Trixie looked at Offa. The mare tasted of an intense blend of melancholy, happiness and love. Trixie briefly let it wash over her. This is what I set out to do, after all. I gave Offa a chance to have a last glimpse at her former love. Maybe I’ve re-opened fresh wounds, but now they can fully and properly heal.

Trixie gave a wordless nod, before turning around to head deeper into the clinic, Iceheart following behind her.

“—and then Severan said, that’s no pink party pony, that’s a platypus!”

Trixie wrinkled her nose, hoof just shy of opening the door leading into Stonehenge’s room. The pony who had been a statue just the night before seemed to have recovered, given his deep, booming laugh at Hadrian’s tale. However, she could tell that inside laid a mix of emotions that could potentially turn toxic: sadness, anger, regret, joy and hope all swirling around, more turbulent than a tornado. Never before had Trixie’s changeling heritage seemed such a double-edged sword.

She gathered her strength about her, however, and pushed the door open.

“And then, and then—oh, hello Miss Trixie, Miss Iceheart,” said Hadrian, noticing the two mares coming in. “Well, no more stallion-only jokes for us, it was nice while it lasted.”

For the second time in as many minutes, Trixie wrinkled her nose, this time as a result of Hadrian’s last comment.

“It is good to see you again, Hadrian,” Iceheart greeted back. “Would I be correct in assuming you all have been up all night?”

“Yes, you would be correct,” said Antonine. “I think Offa already checked out, but knowing her, she probably found someplace in the clinic to catch a wink before coming back.”

“She did. She was sleeping in the lobby, though we briefly chatted when we came in,” said Iceheart.

Trixie looked over to the bed. Two beds, rather: Stonehenge was so big that somepony had had to jivvy two beds together so Stonehenge could fit on it. The large slate-furred stallion looked to be in good spirits, with a smile on his muzzle. His eyes were still shut tight, but most of the paralysis appeared to have worn off, given he was freely moving his limbs.

In all, he looked good for a stallion who hadn’t had a crumb of good, a sip of water, a shower or a sleep in fifty years.

“Good morning to all of you,” Trixie said in a pleasant tone, trying to nudge the emotional mix in the room. “It is nice to meet you as well, Stonehenge.”

“You must be Trixie, then,” Stonehenge said, turning his head to face the direction of the voice. “I already heard Iceheart a few times last night, and that wasn’t her voice. Tell me Hadrian, Antonine, what does she look like?”

Antonine frowned. “Aren’t you able to open your eyes by now?”

“Please, just tell me.”

“Very well,” Antonine said, sighing, looking over to Trixie. He clicked his tongue for a few seconds, then said, “She is a unicorn of average height. She has a blue coat, somewhere between the colour of the sky and the cornflowers that used to grow by our home. Her mane is a very light blue, and her Cutie Mark is a wand crossed over a crescent moon. Oh, shoot. We haven’t even told you about Nightmare Moon yet.”

“Nightmare Moon, Schnightmare Schmoon. Hey, when did we get a clinic anyways?”

“After the fight with the cockatrices, Manechester practically exploded in population,” said Hadrian from the other side of Stonehenge. “Ponies started building homes outside the wall, and we expanded our fields. The town tripled in size over twenty-five years, and the clinic was built about, oh, thirty-five years ago?”

“Hah, at least there’ll be more free mares available,” Stonehenge said, then his lips curled down. “So, Offa got married?”

“Yes. Widowed three years ago, four foals, nine grandfoals.” Everypony in the room knew Antonine was being bland and sterile on purpose.

Stonehenge sighed. “I really have missed out, haven’t I?”

“You were originally supposed to be petrified for at least a hundred years,” Hadrian said. “That damned chicken got the best of us in the end.” Hadrian looked up at the ceiling, a lost look on his face. It didn’t last, however, as he tilted his head back down and said, “I am curious though, Miss Trixie: how did you do it?”

Trixie fidgeted at being put under the spotlight suddenly, but she had had a few hours to come up with a cover story. “I am on the higher end of unicorns for magical power. I may not be as powerful as Princess Celestia is, but it has been fifty years. Enough of the cockatrice’s magic has faded away that it seems it was possible that I could dispel the petrification on my own, though of course I was magically exhausted after.”

Antonine and Hadrian both frowned, and Trixie bit her tongue to her any outward facial expression that might betray her story.

“She’s not telling the truth, or at least, not the whole truth,” Stonehenge pronounced from his bed. “Give her some slack though, guys. Whether she was using just raw magic or some special spell or even a magical artifact from one of your daughter’s adventures that she’s not telling us about, Trixie did save me.”

“They’re not adventures, they’re stories, you can’t go around telling ponies otherwise,” Antonine reprimanded Stonehenge. “But yes, I suppose you’re right. Miss Trixie, I apologise. If you don’t want to tell us, then we won’t prod. Now, what can we do for you today?”

“I came to see and talk to Stonehenge,” Trixie said.

“Ah, yes, that would explain it. Well, d’uh,” Hadrian said, smacking himself with his hoof.

“It is good to meet you too, Miss Trixie. I owe you greatly for freeing me,” said Stonehenge. His voice was always disconcerting with how deep it was. Red Wings’ voice had been on the deeper side, with a little bit of a scratchy quality, but it didn’t even begin to compare to Stonehenge. “I have a question for you, though. Are you single?” He asked. The stallion attempted to waggle his eyebrows, but it came out odd with his eyes still shut tight.

“Stonehenge,” Antonine warned.

“Can’t even let me have some fun, can you?” Stonehenge groused. “But in all honesty, I really am thankful, Miss Trixie. I can’t say I have a bunch of earthly riches to give you. Even as I captained The Wall, I was still a simple farmer, and I don’t even know if I own any land still.”

“It passed over to me, actually, after your parents died,” said Hadrian. “They had no other foals, and I was your closest relation as your cousin. My will was written for my own descendents to continue farming your plot, but that it would be turned over to you when you returned. Ah, I guess that I’ll have to rewrite it. Another thing to do now.”

“Oof.” Stonehenge looked like he had been sucker-punched. “Don’t tell me how ma and pa died. I’d like to imagine they were able to move on, knowing that I wasn’t dead, just petrified, and they died in one another’s arms after several more years of happy marriage.”

Trixie ground her teeth together. Stonehenge was coping, but she knew sooner or later the dam would burst. All Trixie could do was to attempt to spring a hole in that dam, so when the inevitable occurred, there would be less pent-up emotion to flood the stallion with. She wasn’t as good with words as she hoped, even after making inspiring speeches in the past, so Trixie decided to approach the problem of helping Stonehenge let his emotions loose from a different angle. “Stonehenge, why are your eyes shut? You don’t seem to be paralysed anymore.”

The emotions in the room, then in a flux, suddenly stilled. “You know, that’s a good question,” Antonine said, looking over at Stonehenge. “You haven’t opened your eyes once, but you’ve had them squeezed shut the whole time. Did the poison do something to your eyes?”

“...no,” Stonehenge said. He was quiet for the first time Trixie had heard him. A stallion with such a deep voice whispering didn’t sound right.

“Then what?” Antonine asked.

“I’m afraid,” Stonehenge admitted. “Afraid that when I open my eyes, I’ll see you two, except you’ll be so much older than I remember. Even your voices sound off now. I want to hang onto my memories of how you guys looked as long as I can.”

Antonine and Hadrian traded glances. Then Hadrian spoke. “Stonehenge. We appreciate the sentiment, and we don’t want to push you. To be honest, we don’t understand what you’re going through, at all, but we are on the other side of this situation. I don’t want to force you to open your eyes. All I can ask you is to try to accept that everything is what it is, even if it’s more painful than anything else you’ve done. We can’t go back in time to that day fifty years ago.”

Trixie backed away. She shuddered as she felt Stonehenge’s emotions cycling several times a second. It was worse than any time she had ever been to a funeral. Trixie had tried to help the three stallions heal, but she had set off a confluence of feelings she didn’t want to be in the middle of.

Stonehenge opened his eyes.

Trixie recoiled. Offa had been right: he and Hadrian really did have the same yellow eyes.

The yellow-eyed stallion looked around, like a foal seeing something new for the first time, before his eyes locked on Hadrian. Stonehenge sat as still as the statue he had been, taking in the sight of a cousin who had grown fifty years in a day. Finally, he spoke. “Brother, is that you? You have grown so...since the last time I left town, intending to return home that same day.”

Then he broke down, sobbing. Hadrian and Antonine moved in quickly, wrapping their limbs around him in a hug of brotherly love. After fifty years, the three brothers had reunited.

Trixie trembled from the side. She needed to leave, now.

She felt Iceheart lead her out of the room. “Do not worry, I will handle this,” said Iceheart, moving her away from the source of the overwhelming emotions. “Head back to the inn. I’m not affected on a magical level like I suspect you are being right now.” Within moments, Trixie was in the lobby again. Offa rose up to speak to her, only to be silenced by Iceheart waving a hoof. “Go see them, Offa,” said Iceheart. “They are having an emotional moment, and I suspect Stonehenge would do well to have you there as well.”

Offa nodded, before leaving to see Stonehenge. Finally, Iceheart managed to get Trixie out of the clinic.

“Th—thanks, Iceheart,” Trixie said. “I—I needed that.”

“You can tell better than I can. Do you think they will be alright?” Iceheart asked.

Trixie stood outdoors for a few minutes, taking in a breath of the crisp morning air. The living wind that swept through Manechester helped to lift her spirits, but it wasn’t enough. Then she thought over Iceheart’s questions.

“It’ll be OK,” Trixie pronounced. “They’ve been thrust into something they never expected to happen. It’ll take time for them to work through everything, but they’ll heal, every one of them. What Hadrian told us two nights ago, about The Wall, wasn’t just a story. It was strength of will and heart that formed The Wall, and it’ll be that same will and heart that see the four of them through this.”

Iceheart bowed her head in acknowledgement of Trixie’s words. “I see. I am glad, then. I know what it is like to be displaced from time, except nearly all the ponies I knew were in stasis with me. I cannot imagine what Stonehenge must be feeling like, to be the single odd pony out.” Iceheart raised her head back up. “I will convey your words to them, as well as my own. Take care, Trixie.”

With that, Iceheart returned into the clinic. Trixie watched the purple form of the Crystal pony disappear through the door, before turning around to walk back to the restaurant and inn.

What she didn’t tell Iceheart was that the scene in the clinic room was one of the saddest, yet happiest things Trixie had ever seen.

A week passed like the blink of an eye. Trixie found herself suddenly famous in town: despite her and her friends’ attempts to keep it on a down-low, word had spread quickly about precisely which pony had healed Stonehenge. Once, Trixie would have reveled in the praise she received from others. After the incident with the Ursa Minor and then the nightmare with the Amulet, however, she was more skittish, and had retreated to Tomato Cato’s restaurant and inn.

During breakfast one morning, Trixie’s hermitage came to an end. It started with the door being opened.

Stonehenge strode in, his height and grey colouring unmistakable. He looked around for a few seconds, then spotted Trixie, chatting with her three friends over toast and coffee. As Stonehenge moved towards them, making the floor rumble with every hoofstep, Offa, Antonine, and Hadrian all followed in behind him.

The four Manechesterites settled down in chairs of their own, facing the four travellers. Trixie decided to break the ice. “Good morning, everypony. What brings you here today?”

“We have been talking with Stonehenge over the last week,” said Antonine. “Much as we would love for Stonehenge to stay in Manechester, he can’t. He simply can’t. Time is a terrible thing, and it has separated us. It would hurt if we saw Stonehenge every day, and Stonehenge saw us every day.”

“At least your daughter doesn’t write that kind of philosophical crap into her books,” Hadrian teased.

“Shut up, Hadrian.”

“If those colts would stop being colts for five seconds,” Offa threatened, instantly shutting Hadrian and Antonine up. Satisfied, she turned back to face Trixie’s group. “We’ve talked, and come to an agreement with Stonehenge. There’s simply no way we can be as close as we were when we were The Wall. We had a lot of frank and heartfelt discussion about this, and we came up with an idea.”

“You four are travellers, adventurers of a sort, right?” Stonehenge asked, taking over from Offa. “Wherever you go after this, I would like to go with you.”

So that’s what this is about, Trixie thought. I’m not really surprised, though. Every time I fix somepony’s problem, she or he has always tagged along with me. This is just a running trend, really. “OK,” Trixie said. Then, realising she sounded too blase, she added, “We’re not fussed to have you along, Stonehenge, really. It was just me and Noire to start, then we sort of spontaneously added Iceheart and Red Wings during our journey.”

“Excellent. I would love to travel with you,” said Stonehenge. “If you do anything more like what you did here in Manechester, it should be a fun journey, too.”

“Excuse me,” Noire spoke up. “Not to sound callous or anything, but are you really fine with just packing up and leaving?”

Stonehenge shrugged, taking a look to his left and right at his three friends. “It’s not like I’ll stay away forever or anything. I’ll come back to Manechester every so often to catch up with them. I just happen to agree with them, though: if I stayed here, I think we would eventually come to blows. Time apart between reunions seems the best option.”

“Hopefully you come back more often than my daughter,” Antonine grumbled.

“Well,” Noire said, “What if one of you die before Stonehenge returns?”

Stonehenge frowned, and he said, “OK, now that was callous.” Noire winced as she realised how unsensitive her remark was. “But it’s a fair question. It’s, well, it’s a work in progress for me. Anton, Hadrian and Offa are the same ponies I knew, and yet they aren’t. The connection is there, but we all feel detached. It’s like I’m visiting my grandparents, even though I remember them being the same age as I was. We simply don’t share the same life experiences anymore. I can’t connect with ponies in this town my own age, either, because they know who I am, and what I was.”

“That sounds reasonable. You need a clean break, in other words,” Red Wings summarised. “I had a similar situation as yours: not the same, of course, but similar. Well, in all honesty, we weren’t intending to stay more than a few days,” the pegasus stated. It wasn’t the entire truth, but it was a partial one. The four were going to stick around until they could find the problem in Manechester that the unknown premonition had pushed them to, then leave. Upon resolving Stonehenge’s petrification, however, they had decided to stay and see how things play out. “Unless you have some other pressing issue, we’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

“That works for me,” Stonehenge said.

“Stonehenge, one last thing,” Hadrian suddenly said from next to him.

“What is it?”

“Offa, Antonine and me were talking the other day. We can’t really come along with you, nor would we want to, but we hoped to at least give you something to remember us by. Offa, please?”

“Yes,” Offa said, before suddenly taking something out of the saddlebag she had brought with her. Using her levitation magic, she dropped that something on the table for all to see.

Trixie eyed it. It was a silver necklace, large enough to fit around Stonehenge’s neck. There was a small locket attached to the necklace, with six symbols engraved into the clasp: two hooves, two horns, and two wings.

“This is—” Stonehenge stopped, as he opened the locket.

“Yes, the symbol of The Wall, and a picture of all six of us, shortly before we fell apart,” Hadrian said. “You don’t have to take it with you, if you don’t wish to.”

“No, I’ll take it with me,” Stonehenge said, putting the necklace around his neck. Trixie could see tears coming out of his eyes. “It sounds mean of me to say, but I’ll always remember and treasure what we were.”

“No offense taken,” said Antonine. “One last thing…”

“What is it?” Stonehenge asked gruffly.

“It’s just something Offa and I remembered last night,” said the golden-furred pegasus. “After we defeated the cockatrices and the Princess came to Manechester, she knighted each of us for our service and gave us titles. They weren’t really worth much,” Antonine shrugged. “I mean, being ‘Antonine Braveheart, Duke of Manechester’ doesn’t exactly get me much anywhere. They were more ceremonial than anything. But the Princess also gave you a title.”

Stonehenge furled his eyebrows. “What was it?”

“Elderwall,” Hadrian pronounced. “You were the eldest of all of us when you fought the king cockatrice, and leader of The Wall. We thus combined the two for your title, Stonehenge Elderwall, Duke of Manechester.”

“Stonehenge Elderwall,” Stonehenge said, rolling the words on his tongue, ignoring the noble part of his title. “Not bad. I like it.”

“If that’s settled, you’ll want to go home and pack. Well, er, sorry, I don’t even know if you have a home, aaaaaaand I’m just digging myself a deeper hole here,” said Noire. The bat pony had started talking at a normal volume, only to slowly get quieter as she continued, eventually capping in a whisper as she felt embarrassed.

“What Noire means is to pack some supplies. If you do not have any, then Offa, Antonine, Hadrian, please help Stonehenge. Otherwise, we can simply pick some up in Fillydelphia,” Iceheart said, smoothly moving in to spare Noire any more embarrassment. “It is our intent to take the train from Fillydelphia west to Vanhoover, then travel south to one of the coastal towns.”

The three elders traded glances.

“Actually, you may want to hold off on doing that,” said Offa.

“What do you mean?” Red Wings asked.

“Well, it’s not something you have to do,” said Antonine. “It’s just that when Princess Celestia came here fifty years ago, she expressed a good deal of interest in Stonehenge, impressed by his bravery and strength.”

“Aw, shucks, she shouldn’t have,” said Stonehenge. He made an attempt at humility, but it was obvious to all the stallion was glowing upon hearing he had left such a positive impression on the Princess.

“Yes Stonehenge, you did,” Antonine said, a little testy at being interrupted. “Before you go to Vanhoover, however, perhaps you should stop off in Canterlot and visit Princess Celestia at her court. I’m sure she would be glad to know Stonehenge has been released more than fifty years ahead of what the Princess estimated was possible.”

“Canterlot?!” Two voices rang out at the same time.

Trixie sank in her seat, as she was sure Noire was doing beside her. Canterlot, the centre of Equestria, home to the Royal Sisters. Canterlot, the city that had once been her home for a year when she was younger. Canterlot, the city where the changeling invasion occurred, leading to a series of circumstances that had eventually resulted in her father’s death. Canterlot, where there might be a pony who recognised that unicorn mare as Bellatrix Midsummer, a filly she had attended school with before she dropped out, and oh, wasn’t her magic green? Canterlot, home to the Royal Guard, who had little love lost for bat pony soldiers who had gone AWOL. That Canterlot.

There wasn’t any question of dodging out on it, either. Trixie had known she would eventually have to return to the city where the long chain of heartbreaks that she experienced in her life had first started, if only to have some sort of healing process. It looked like Trixie would be returning to Canterlot, the city where her education in magic had all began, sooner than she had expected.

The living wind howled.

Author's Note

Stonehenge is a curious contrast to Noire, Iceheart and Red Wings in that he only shows up in the last chapter of his arc. As a result, he doesn't get as much character development as the other three. Not to worry, because he will be getting it in the following chapters. Also, thank goodness this arc didn't blow up to the insane levels that the prior two arcs did in length. That's what burned me out the last time.

Anyways, I'm editing this story by myself, with no help from other editors (and still catching mistakes on re-reads). Question: Does Iceheart's 'voice' seem fairly consistent to you? I write her as using very few contractions, and a lot of times she uses a sort of formal, detached style of speech instead of more casual language.

After this, the next arc will be The Living Wind. Time for everyone to go back and count how many times The Living Wind has been mentioned in this story :trollestia:

"Have you ever listened to the Wind, ever truly listened as it howls? It's beautiful."

The Living Wind: Canterlot

Stonehenge had been very good friends with his gang of fellow travelers who would eventually become The Wall, a unit of ponies who defended Manechester from monster attacks. While Hadrian was his cousin, Stonehenge felt, at a basic level, more intimately connected with Antonine, the golden-furred pegasus.

After all, it was Antonine who had ended up designing much of Manechester’s thoroughfares and defenses, even after Stonehenge had been turned to stone. It was Stonehenge building one of Antonine’s elementary stonework designs when they were colts that gave Stonehenge his Cutie Mark.

He looked at the mark on his thighs, a number of tall stones arranged in a circular fashion. Through math and astronomy, the circle of stones was aligned to the sunrise of the Summer Sun Celebration and sunset of the Winter Moon Celebration. In later life, he and Antonine had led the charge to build and fortify the wall around Manechester. The Wall and the wall had both done its jobs, and so both had been disbanded.

Stonehenge still missed the feeling of rocks and stones in his hooves, as he interlocked them in place, filling mortar in the spaces between. He wondered how much this age, fifty years in the future, still needed ponies like him who could build with stone and brick.

“Bit for your thoughts?,” Noire asked from beside him.

The stallion continued looking out the windows as the train zipped by, the countryside changing from the great plains that he was used to to the Foal Mountains that indicated they were getting closer to Canterlot. “I see Cavalcade Castle is still there,” Stonehenge commented, having seen the small fort as the train rolled by it. “Well, I can’t say I really expected otherwise. Castles are supposed to last for centuries unless attacked,” he snorted.

“Feeling lost, still?” asked Noire.

“Yes, and I do not believe it will ever go away. However, I have hopes for the future, seeing Miss Iceheart. She and I are kindred souls.”

“But I was displaced with the rest of my countryponies,” Iceheart said in the seat opposite them. “You were on your own.”

“Please, Miss Iceheart,” said Stonehenge. He still was not quite familiar with his new fellow travellers to yet drop the formalities, but he was trying. “I do not see another Crystal pony around here. You left the Crystal Empire with Miss Noire and Miss Trixie, two ponies who were new to you as much as they are to me. You are as much among unfamiliar faces as I am, except everything is a thousand years out of date, as opposed to still being within what would have been my mortal lifetime for me.”

It was fortunate that the five, once four, had splurged for a private cabin. The things they talked about would have attracted curious eavesdroppers. It would have made it more difficult to fill Stonehenge in on things like why Trixie and Noire were reluctant to return to Canterlot, or why Red Wings had left his own hometown. Even innocuous information, such as what Iceheart had done in the Crystal Empire before and after its stasis, would have had extra ears listening in.

“I suppose,” said Iceheart. The purple-furred mare wasn’t really invested in the argument.

“One of my colthood dreams was to own a castle much like the Cavalcade Castle,” Stonehenge said suddenly. “On a clear day, a pony could just make the outline of the Royal Palace of Canterlot from home. Of course, it was a foolish ambition. What need would Manechester have of a castle that just a wall could not fulfill? Besides, when the monster population started dwindling, it was even less necessary.”

“Dreams are a good thing to have,” said Noire. “Both dreams and ambitions.”

“What was yours?”

Noire sighed, looking out the window with Stonehenge, a small smile on her face. “I wanted to join the Royal Guard, and I made it in. Then that dream crashed and burned.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I spoke poorly.”

“It’s alright,” said Noire. “I was angry and bitter for the first few weeks after running away. My father had just died, after all, and whenever I could finally forget about that, I would also remember I was AWOL. Time heals a lot of wounds, and what time doesn’t, Trixie has shown herself to be capable of a lot of what’s left.” The bat pony smirked at that comment.

Stonehenge and Noire looked over to the third seat in the cabin, where Trixie was sprawled out with a blanket on top of her, snoozing peacefully. “It’ll be weird being in Canterlot again, honestly,” said Noire. “This has been the longest time I’ve been away from home in my life, actually. Even going on tours was only a few months, but it’s been about, let’s see, how long has it been?” Noire counted off with her hooves. “Seven months since I left Canterlot. Time flies.”

“You aren’t worried about returning to Canterlot?,” asked Stonehenge.

Noire frowned as she turned to face Stonehenge, then shook her head. “Trixie’s spell was perfect, I think. I didn’t originally look like this,” she said, gesturing at her marble-blue coat and dark-blue mane and hair. “I actually used to be about the same colour as your coat is, and I had a different Cutie Mark. Don’t ask me how that happened, but it did. But I doubt anypony will be able to figure out it’s me, given my colours, Cutie Mark, and even height and voice are different. Hmm, I suppose I’d like to go visit my mother, though it may be tricky to convince her I’m me.”

She looked over to Trixie again. “I think it’ll be Trixie who will have a more difficult time of it, though. She hasn’t been to Canterlot since she was a filly, and she left heartbroken. I hope she doesn’t have a tough time being here again.”

“Well, hopefully you can show me around,” said Stonehenge, sensing the mood was getting a little too sad in the cabin. “I have not ever been to Canterlot.”

“I haven’t,” said Red Wings. The red-coated pegasus had been awake, sitting next to Iceheart the whole time, but hadn’t said a word in some time.

Iceheart chimed in, saying, “Neither have I. I did see it from afar when we were travelling to Dodge Junction, but that does not count.”

“Huh. Wow. I guess I’ll have to take you for a tour, then,” said Noire. “We’ll go visit Celestia’s court when we get into Canterlot and see if we can get an audience, and then walk around after.”

Stonehenge yawned. “That would be a mighty kind thing of you to do. The biggest city I have ever been to was Fillydelphia, and when I last visited, it was half the size that it was when we visited last night.”

Noire held her tongue. She wasn’t going to say something selfish like hoping Stonehenge would get over his losing fifty years already. Noire knew it was something that was going to take Stonehenge a long time to come to grips with. She just wished he would stop slipping it into every other sentence.

Instead, Noire opted to look back out the window, watching the rising sun. Within hours, they would be back in Canterlot, the capital of Equestria.

Canterlot, where Noire had been born, raised, and then ran away from.

“Huh. So we’re finally here,” Red Wings commented as he stepped out of the train and onto the platform, being the last of the five to do so. Looking up at the sky, he said, “And it’s not even noon yet.”

“The Princess holds an open court after lunch for a few hours most days,” said Noire. “It’s not quite first-come-first-serve, but that is usually how it goes. I think we will have an in, however, considering Stonehenge’s history.”

“Do we even want to go to the court, though?” Trixie asked as they all sidled off to a less-populated section of the train station. “I would be just as glad not to go, and in your case, I wouldn’t, either.”

“I’m not,” said Noire. “Red Wings and I are going to the Museum of Pegasus History.”

“Ah. It seems I missed out on a lot while I was asleep,” said Trixie. Her stomach rumbled, and she blushed. “Perhaps we should get lunch, first?”

“Certainly,” Noire said before sighing. “I suppose I should avoid my favorite places, just in case I somehow trip up and somepony who knows me gets suspicious. Well, I do know this one diner down one of Canterlot’s back alleys. It’s moderately priced, lots of eating space in-doors, and despite the name, Donut Joe’s serves regular food as well.”

“I have no issue with that,” said Iceheart. “Does anypony else?” Seeing no objections, she said to Noire, “Very well, lead the way.”

Trixie was torn as they left the platform. Canterlot was a city with a history a thousand years rich, with its grand spires melded into a dozen different architectural history, all set against the unchanging Royal Palace and the lone mountain that had never been officially named, but often referred to as Mount Canterhorn after the city itself. The city had been through many growing pains, as evidenced by the winding roads they walked down, changing from a yellow brick road to a red stone road with a single turn. The streets were often busy, with carriages going this way and that, and the average pony fighting to make headway, all while pegasus guardsponies patrolled above.

When Trixie had last been in Canterlot, it was to go to school here, and it had only ever been about a year. Then, she had avoided the main streets, feeling heady from the emotions of the masses, her inherited, if diluted changeling senses working against her. Now, Trixie still felt a little overwhelmed, but she was much better at keeping herself upright and continuing to walk.

It was trotting into the food district that did it for her, as a hundred separate smells wafted their way into her nostrils, all culminating in one single scent that left her olfactory nerves reeling with delight. This was home, once, Trixie thought with nostalgia. But it’ll never be home again.

“Well, it wasn’t Tomato Cato’s, but it was still good,” Iceheart said as they left the diner, praising the food she had just eaten.

“I am envious, honestly,” Stonehenge said, eyes quickly darting between windows as he, Iceheart and Trixie walked through the alleys of Canterlot towards the castle, Red Wings and Noire having split-up after lunch. “I remember things like candy and pastries being a luxury when I was young and visiting Fillydelphia. Now, there is an entire alley full of those things.”

“Irrigation and railways,” Trixie said. “Earth ponies and unicorns made breakthroughs in irrigation systems so farming towns don’t need as much pegasus labour, and the rail system has nearly doubled in the last half-century, with raw horsepower converted to steam engines. Life wasn’t precisely hard before in most places, outside of pioneer towns, but things have certainly gotten easier over the years.”

“But still not fully perfect,” said Iceheart quietly from the other side of Stonehenge, who was in-between the two mares. Though it was the stallion’s first time in Canterlot, it was all too easy to see how to get to the castle, given its prominence at the back end of the city. “If things were perfect, then Trixie would be out of a job.”

“I don’t really consider it a job,” Trixie said, not certain if Iceheart’s comment was in jest or serious. It was difficult for her to read the Crystal Earth pony sometimes. “It’s not as if I’ve been seeking out ponies with problems, I’ve just sort of somehow kept stumbling into them. The closest I got with was you, and that was more to find out about the Windigos and your experiences of fighting them.”

“It was a boon that you came, nevertheless,” Iceheart said.

“Yes, it was. You’re one of my friends now,” Trixie agreed.

Stonehenge cleared his throat. “I would much love to hear some of your stories later, Iceheart, if they are not too painful to share.”

“Not really,” said Iceheart, as the trio continued making their way through busy streets, slowly but surely making it closer to Canterlot Castle, home to the Royal Sisters. “Not painful, that is. There were deaths among those I commanded, to be sure, but none since we reappeared. Three years of time has been enough to dull my memories of before the stasis.”

Trixie frowned at that. Even as she had helped clip the chain that held Iceheart down, the purple-furred mare was still her own pony, with her own psychological issues. It just pained Trixie that there was nothing she could do to help Iceheart with that as well.

Finally, they made it to the castle. Canterlot Castle wasn’t quite what Trixie had ever expected. Instead of an immediate ‘door’ leading into the castle, it was much like a city unto itself, where you couldn’t quite tell where the city began. Was it to be at the first layer of battlements and ramparts surrounding the castle, more ceremonial than functional? Perhaps the large garden and foyer past that?

Maybe it begins where the guards first start stopping you, Trixie decided as two stallions finally halted their progress. They both had white coats, undoubtedly a result of the enchanted armor that was an open secret in Equestria.

“What is your purpose here today, citizen?,” asked the one guardspony. He spoke formally instead of abrasively, but it was an interrogation nonetheless.

“We are here to seek an audience in the Court of the Sun today,” said Iceheart. They had decided Trixie was to mostly stay quiet here unless asked. While the unicorn could have easily taken the lead, it was more noticeable if Iceheart, a Crystal pony, was in the lead.

The stallions traded glances, before the other guardspony pointed a hoof away from the door they were at. “Head down there, and inside the next door. A court scribe will record what you are here for. We cannot guarantee that you will receive an audience with the Princess.”

Iceheart gave a brief curtsy. “Thank you for your help, gentleponies,” she said, before walking away, Trixie and Stonehenge right behind her.

“They didn’t even comment on your coat,” Trixie said.

“It is a surprise,” Iceheart admitted, having been privy to multiple curious looks as well as the odd undesired catcall travelling between Dodge Junction and Manechester. “If we had come down a few years ago, we would probably have been more eye-catching to others, but by now, most here have likely seen crystalline coats on multiple occasions.”

“Instead, I seem to be the one attracting the most attention,” said Stonehenge, as the three finally came to the castle door the guard earlier referred to, and entered.

“I’m sure you’d love to think it’s because of your good looks,” Trixie teased him. “But really, you are large. I’m pretty sure you’re larger than Princess Celestia.”

“He is larger than Princess Celestia,” said a dry voice. Trixie looked over to see a far smaller unicorn stallion, wearing a dress shirt, levitating a clipboard and pen. “I’ve worked with the Princess enough to tell. Now, I assume you are here to get an audience with the Princess, is that correct?”

“That is correct,” Iceheart said.

“OK, three ponies,” the scribe mumbled as he jotted down a detail onto his clipboard. “Purpose of your audience?”

“I am Stonehenge Elderwall. Fifty years ago, Princess Celestia came to my village, Manechester, a tomato-growing village south of Fillydelphia,” Stonehenge said. The scribe startled at Stonehenge’s deep, booming voice, but continued listening. “She visited after a flock of cockatrices invaded, and was exterminated. In the process, however, I was turned to stone. Princess Celestia was unable to heal me at the time.” Stonehenge paused, closing his eyes as it pained him to speak. “The magic has worn off finally. I have come to offer her my thanks for making the attempt, and to inform the Princess that I am now free.”

The scribe looked up in shock.

“It does sound a fantastical story, I know,” said Stonehenge. “However, it is also the truth.”

The unicorn scribe frowned, narrowing purple eyes as he jotted the notes down. “Well, that’s certainly the most interesting story I’ve heard in three or four years, since the incident with the pink party pony and the platypus—ahem, sorry. I have here Stonehenge, Earth pony stallion from Manechester, grey coat and mane, yellow eyes, unusually large size at greater than Princess Celestia, Cutie Mark of a circle of unevenly-sized stones…” The scribe rambled on, apparently dedicated to the minutiae of his forms. Finally, he whipped his head around to the two mares. “And you two mares are?”

“I am Iceheart, from the Crystal Empire,” Iceheart introduced herself.

Trixie bit her lip, but decided it was better to use her nickname. “Trixie Lulamoon, from Whinnychester,” she stated.

“Good, good,” the scribe nodded as he wrote down their names, hometowns, and identifying physical characteristics. “We take pride in being exact in our records, if you were wondering why we went to the extent of recording your colours as well.” Finally, he stopped writing, and looked back up at the trio that had walked in. “Nominally, audiences are on a first-come-first-serve basis. However, if what you have told me is true, I am certain Princess Celestia will expedite you. If that is the truth,” he warned. “Please, take a seat, and if Celestia decides upon receiving you, you will be called.” With that, he walked off.

Stonehenge, Trixie, and Iceheart looked for some seats. Though the chambers were relatively empty, making them believe they would have gotten in during the day anyways, the tough part was finding a seat large enough for Stonehenge to fit.

“Oh! Ah, sorry, sorry,” said a green-coated pegasus mare, blushing as she got out of a particularly large seat. “I guess you’ll need this more than I do, heh?” She asked, looking between Stonehenge and the other, smaller seats.

“Thank you very much, I appreciate it,” Stonehenge said, giving her a smile as he took the seat. The pegasus mare blushed even more, though Trixie wasn’t sure how much of that could be chalked up to Stonehenge’s smile, which she did have to admit was attractive, or his incredibly deep voice. Regardless, she and Iceheart quickly sidled up in seats next to Stonehenge.

Some of the other ponies in the room started chattering. Trixie scrunched her nose, uncertain whether they had overheard Stonehenge talking about himself earlier, or just returning to their own conversations. Trixie didn’t want to attract any attention, and she felt like they were now the centre of attention.

Oh, why did I even agree to come here to the castle? Trixie bemoaned her decision. She thought about a topic to discuss that she wouldn’t mind others overhearing. To Trixie’s consternation, she was unable to think of anything.

“How was your lunch, Trixie?” Iceheart asked. “You looked like you enjoyed it.”

“I did, yes. It has been awhile since I have had something that satisfyingly greasy. Tomato Cato’s served some good food, but even his hay fries were too healthy,” Trixie said. She had ordered a hayburger, hay fries and hayshake all-in-one meal at Donut Joe’s. It had left her feeling a little tired as she got up from the table, but it had been worth it.

Trixie blinked, as she tried to recall when the last time she had eaten something so fattening had been. Was it in Manechester? No, she just said Cato didn’t cook anything that heavy. Dodge Junction? The cherry dishes had been splendid, but they were still mostly light. The train food wasn’t very fulfilling, and she had barely spent any time in the Crystal Empire. And there was only a single restaurant in Whinnychester, that Trixie had never gone to.

Oh. It was when I was in Coltgary for the Greatest Outdoor Show in Equestria, wasn’t it? That was...a little over two years ago, wasn’t it? Yes, so it was.

“Is something the matter, Miss Trixie?” Stoneheart asked.

“Oh, no, not really,” Trixie said, waving her hoof. “Just realising that it was about two-and-a-half years since I ate something that heavy, is all.” She smirked, the unicorn mare adopting a cheshire grin. “You certainly seemed to enjoy your sweets, however.”

“I regret nothing. After all, it’s been about fifty years since I last had some sweets,” Stonehenge said, to a devastating effect.

“Oof.”

“But yes, it was good. Sugar was not something that we grew in Manechester, nor did the traders bring much in, so it was a rare treat for me when growing up,” Stonehenge said fondly. “So I indulged when I saw the chance.”

Iceheart and Trixie both shared a small shiver at that. Stonehenge had practically wolfed down his platter of crepes, with whipped cream, blueberries and strawberries slathered all over, topped off with custard, chocolate sauce, sliced bananas and cherries. Trixie would have had to be towing her wagon around again to even think of eating that much food in one sitting. Stonehenge’s size allowed him to devour large portions of food without too much worry to accumulating extra weight in turn.

“Well, I grew up in a wheat-growing town,” Trixie said. “So of course there was lots of bread in the ovens every night, but sugar was practically mandatory for many of the other baked goods, and some of the farms grow sugar beets on the side.”

“All this talk about food is making me hungry again,” Iceheart commented.

“Unfortunately, I’m not really willing to lose our place in line,” said Trixie. “I suppose we can grab a snack again—”

“Trixie, I was just making small talk,” said Iceheart with a small smile.

“Ah. Alright,” said Trixie, falling silent again. She hemmed and hawwed for a new topic, and soon zoomed in on one. “Say, did you ever actually get around to reading any of the Daring Do books?”

“I read a couple of them while in Manechester, yes,” Iceheart said, ignorant of Stonehenge’s knowing look, “Daring Do and the Sapphire Stone, and Daring Do and the Eternal Flower. Many of the references were lost on me, though.” Having not caught up on a thousand years of history and geography, Iceheart mentally added.

“That’s to be expected, I suppose,” said Trixie. “One of these days we will have to sit down with you and go over some of the history books, again. Did Equestria not try to fill in the Crystal ponies in on all that happened in the thousand years you were gone?”

“They did, but they only really reached out to the ponies in the city proper. Either they did not think to include us, or they could not find anypony willing to come up north and tell us,” said Iceheart. “Given they would have had to walk through bitter cold for most of a day each way instead of taking a train, it would not surprise me.”

Stonehenge frowned. “You know, sorry if I hit a nerve Miss Iceheart, but what was the stasis like? Me being petrified was, still is, a little confusing. One moment, I was feeling a little bit panicked as I realised I was turning to stone, but was resolved to kill the cockatrice.” Stonehenge lowered his voice near the end, well aware of how skittish the other ponies in the room might get if they overheard him talking about killing something, regardless of if it was a monster or not. “Then the next moment, I was no longer in stone, and I could not feel the cockatrice around my hoof, and I was standing on top of stone, instead of grass.”

Iceheart raised an eyebrow. “That’s a little bit different from what happened to us. We had several seconds of forewarning before we disappeared, our fortress and all. We were peripherally aware of the passage of time, like a long, dreamless sleep.” She frowned, then added, “But that was for those of us who were out in the fortress. I am uncertain how it was for those in the city proper, under Sombra’s mind-control magic.”

Stonehenge looked like he was going to reply, only to be interrupted.

“Stonehenge Elderwall, Trixie Lulamoon, and Iceheart?”

The three looked up. It was a female unicorn who had called them: she had a grey coat so light it could be mistaken for white at a distance, with a plain brown mane and tail that were both tied up in knots, giving the impression of a prim secretary. “I am Raven, one of the Princess’ aides,” the mare introduced herself. “Please, come with me.”

“It seems we will not have to wait long. Lead the way, Miss Raven,” Stonehenge said, standing up.

Raven was momentarily awed by Stonehenge’s size, before she let out a slight cough, turning around and walking away. Trixie, Stonehenge and Iceheart followed behind her.

They were led through a few long, winding corridors. Trixie broke off her gaze when she realised she had been looking at Raven’s Cutie Mark, a pen and inkwell, for several seconds, and took a look at her surroundings instead. The castle was more resplendent and opulent than even the School for Gifted Unicorns had ever been, with paintings and tapestries hanging on every wall, stained glass windows with golden frames, polished marble floors and a literal red carpet that never seemed to end. Trixie wondered how many ponies had to be deployed every day to keep the place clean.

In quick order, however, Raven stopped, and Trixie realised they had come to an especially ornate set of partially-open golden doors, five times the height of an average pony. A carver more talented than even Trixie’s own father had engraved scenes of something into the door. Trixie didn’t get the chance to figure out what the scenes were as Raven quietly poked her head through the door, only to pull back out and say, “The Princess is available right now. I don’t think I need to tell you, but be courteous, polite, and on your best behavior!”

With that, Raven’s horn was alight, and she used her magic to push open the doors. Walking at a quick pace up to Princess Celestia, sitting on her throne at the end of another long red carpet, the two quickly conversed before the Princess turned to face the doors. “Come in, my little ponies,” said the Princess.

Trixie, Iceheart and Stonehenge walked in, Stonehenge in the centre, Trixie flanking him on his left. Trixie briefly took a look around, seeing a scattering of guardsponies, including one on either side of Celestia, and another unicorn attendant. At last, the three stopped shortly in front of the throne. As planned, Trixie and Iceheart each offered the Princess a curtsy, and Stonehenge a short bow.

“Hmm, interesting,” said Princess Celestia. Then, to everypony’s surprise, she got up. The Alicorn of the Sun then walked down from her throne in long strides, up until she stood right in front of Stonehenge, and peered at him.

The stallion fidgeted, uncertain why the Princess had singled him out.

“When I had visited fifty years ago, I was uncertain. You were in a crouched position, as I recall. But your friends spoke true, it seems. You are taller than me,” Celestia said.

There was a brief murmuring in the room as the guards and attendants suddenly realised Celestia was right. Although it was close, Stonehenge came in about five centimetres higher, though he would be the shorter one if Celestia’s horn was counted.

“My father was tall, but not unusually so,” Stonehenge murmured. “They were surprised to see me as large as I got.”

“It is uncommon, yes,” Celestia agreed. “You are not, however, the first stallion I have seen that is taller than I am, though they have always been stallions, never mares. One probably comes along every half-century or so, usually with a horse for a parent instead of a pony. Since yours was the case fifty years ago, I suppose that makes us overdue for another giant to show up. I am surprised, however, to see you here so soon. I am certain I had predicted one hundred years before it would be worthwhile trying to free you.”

This was where Trixie got leery, even though they had planned this out beforehoof. As planned, Stonehenge put the spotlight on her. “Miss Trixie here to my left came to town along with Miss Iceheart, and devised a countermeasure to free me early.”

“Oh?” Princess Celestia asked, turning her attention to Trixie. “Your name seems familiar, but I cannot recall from where. Did you attend my School for Gifted Unicorns, maybe?”

“I did, when I was younger, yes. I dropped out after about a year. At the time, my mother was growing ill,” said Trixie. It was two separate truths stated together to sound like they were linked. Trixie was no saboteur against the Crown, having grown up under the aegis of Princess Celestia her entire life, and had no desire to flat-out lie to her.

“I would have expected a graduate to free Stonehenge, but even a year would have given you a grounding in magical theory. How did you do it? I thought it would be another fifty years, after all, and that was with my power,” said Celestia. The unicorn attendant who had already been in the room was jotting down notes on his clipboard behind her, doubtlessly taking down the minutes of this audience.

“Part of it may simply have been where Stonehenge was placed as a statue, Your Majesty,” Trixie said, feeling a little awkward that she was talking about the stallion next to her, yet spoke as if Stonehenge as a statue was a separate entity altogether. “He was placed in the middle of Manechester’s village plaza. I believe that due to the sheer number of ponies that walked around there on a daily basis, the residual magic they left behind grounded some of the petrification magic the cockatrice had originally cast on him. From there, it simply took me multiple attempts at dispelling the petrification. I felt that I was getting closer with each attempt. The cockatrice magic may have been wearing down with each try as well, though the successful cast left me exhausted for nearly a full day.”

More truths that deceived through truthiness, where ‘multiple’ attempts meant two, including Trixie’s first try when she wasn’t quite herself, and ‘may have been’, when Trixie was almost certainly, but not one hundred percent confident that throwing raw magic at the statue would not run out the petrification magic quicker.

Even worse was the gleam in Celestia’s eyes that suggested the Princess knew as well that Trixie wasn’t telling the full truth.

“Well, I am glad that you helped Stonehenge out, Trixie Lulamoon,” said Celestia. “It saddened me that I could not heal Stonehenge after his years of service in defending his home, so it makes me happy to know he has returned to use ahead of what I thought possible. Speaking of which, I recall that I gave you a title, did I not, Stonehenge?”

“Stonehenge Elderwall, Duke of Manechester,” Stonehenge said, bowing again and bringing his hoof up to his chest in a gesture of respect. “It is much appreciated, Your Majesty.”

“So I did, so I did,” Celestia said, nodding. “While the title is mostly honorary, given your fief is split between five others or any offspring who will have inherited it, and Manechester is still tiny, you are still considered nobility. If you wish to attend any of Canterlot’s events in the future, I am certain my nephew the Prince, or other ponies such as Mr. Fancy Pants would be glad to invite you.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“And Iceheart, I believe? You are a long ways from home,” Celestia said, facing Iceheart. The Crystal mare stood slightly more rigid, but otherwise didn’t shift her pose. “I assume you have been travelling Equestria?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Iceheart. “I met Trixie about a month ago, and decided to leave the Empire with her to head south and explore Equestria. It has been a treat.”

Celestia suddenly frowned. “Have we met before? I know I have met a few Crystal ponies before King Sombra took over.”

“Yes, we have. It was a thousand years ago, before we went into stasis. At one point, I was a courier, and I delivered a few messages to the castle in the Everfree Forest.”

The Princess looked nostalgic. “Oh, that castle. We moved after certain events, but I remember it often. It was where I spent many of my younger days at. I suppose it must be strange to you, having met me only a few years ago from your perspective, and me now being so much older?”

Iceheart grimaced. “I apologise, Your Majesty, but the way you worded that question, it would be difficult for me to answer with any tact.”

Celestia laughed gaily. “I suppose it would be. No mare likes to talk about her age, doubly so for me.”

The unicorn scribe behind Celestia suddenly cleared his throat, and said, “Princess, you have a meeting in fifteen minutes with the minotaurs.”

“Oh! I am sorry, Iceheart. I would have loved to speak with you longer, since the Crystal Ponies make up most of the few who remember the times from a thousand years ago,” Celestia said with a forlorn face. “If you three come back another day, when I am less busy, I will be certain to clear time with an audience for you.”

“We are thankful just for your time today, Your Majesty,” Stonehenge said.

“Oh please, there is no need to say ‘Your Majesty’ every time,” Celestia said, smiling. “But I would be glad to talk to you three again. But before you depart, Trixie Lulamoon, could I ask you to do a task for me?”

“A task, Your Maj—,er, a task?” Trixie asked.

“Yes. Stonehenge’s case was not the only time a pony came down with a magical illness of some sort. With Stonehenge, it was a curse which only time could apparently weaken. However, in Canterlot, there is a special hospital, the Centre for Mysterious Magical Maladies,” Celestia explained. “Ponies with acute or chronical magical diseases are housed there, in the hopes that someday we can find a way to treat them. Would you please be able to go there? Though I do not think whatever you did for Stonehenge can be currently adapted for any of the ponies there, I am certain the doctors at the Centre would hear you out.”

Trixie furled her eyebrows. This was something unexpected, but she could adapt. It was only a side-stop for her. Not much bad could come out of it. “I will go, then, Princess. I cannot guarantee it can be replicated to help any other pony out, but I will at least try.”

“Thank you. That is all I ask for. I have only ever asked that my little ponies be able to help themselves as much as I have. You have already helped one who helped many others,” Princess Celestia said, looking from Trixie to Stonehenge. Trixie felt faint at seeing the smile on the Solar Alicorn’s face. So this is the smile that has driven suitors to fight one another for her hoof, Trixie thought.

Princess Celestia turned around, returning to her throne. “Raven, can you please escort these three back out?”

“Of course, Princess,” said Raven. It was a testament to her closeness with the Princess that she did not offer any departing bow or curtsy, instead walking down the long curtain. The grey-coated mare indicated to Stonehenge, Trixie and Iceheart to follow her, and she lead them out of the castle, this time through the main gates that the trio had been barred from earlier.

“Do you know where the Centre for Mysterious Magical Maladies is?” Raven asked. At three separate shakes of the head, she nodded. “I thought not.” Raven then proceeded to give them exact directions, noting landmarks to use as references and pointing out spots where they might trip up by accident. With a brief nod of her head, the royal aide returned back indoors.

“Trixie, do you intend to go?” Iceheart asked.

Trixie nodded, fire in her belly. “I will. It would be remiss of me to not at least see if there is somepony I can help. Besides, if I do find somepony who I can cure with my magic, no doubt he or she will join us as befits the trend.”

“Perhaps we should go seek out Red Wings and Noire, first?,” Stonehenge suggested. “While I am not as paranoid as you are about the possibility of being ‘discovered’ and then scorned for your talents, it would be ideal to have them on hoof if we have to escape the city for some reason, instead of leaving them stranded.”

“Yes, it would. As I recall, they were going to loiter around the Museum of Pegasus History for a while after they were done their tour. In that case, let us go find them.”

It didn’t take them long to find Noire and Red Wings over in the historical district where many of the museums were located.

“That was fast,” said Noire. “At least, I assume you got in, since Celestia’s court usually lasts longer than that. If you hadn’t, otherwise you would have been staying until the end.”

“Her court was cut short today due to a meeting, but we did get in to see her,” Iceheart informed the two winged ponies of their group.

“How did it go, then?,” Red Wings asked, using his wing to scratch an itch on his neck. A figurine that Trixie recognised as being of General Firefly hung around his neck. He had obviously purchased himself a souvenir from the history.

“It went well. The Princess met with us and we chatted for a few minutes, and she told us we could come back at a later time when she was less busy to talk some more. However, she also asked us to go to a clinic with ponies who have magical illnesses and ask us to talk to the doctors there. Princess Celestia was hoping that what I used to help Stonehenge might be adapted to help another pony.”

“Are you?” Red Wings asked.

Trixie shook her head. “No, my talent is something I do not intend to just reveal to others. All they will know is that I merely ‘grounded’ the cockatrice magic. However, I will go and assess if there are any ponies I could potentially save, albeit sneaking under the doctor’s noses.”

“You’re a good pony, Trixie,” said Noire. “Fortunately, I know where the Centre is, I assume you’re talking about the Centre for Mysterious Magical Maladies?”

“The one and the same,” said Iceheart.

“Sure, in that case, let’s go.”

Trixie wasn’t certain what to think of the Centre for Mysterious Magical Maladies. Actually, she was outright baffled. The tower the Centre occupied looked like it was out of a new-age architect’s wet dream, despite being centuries old: the tower’s external walls curved around like a spiral or a screw, every rotation of the wall being higher than the previous location. Furthermore, the individual stones also had been inset at a concave angle. It was like a pony had discovered the art of rope making, where several strings were braided together to create a stronger piece, and instead of creating rope, decided to use the look as the model for a building. A smaller, dormitory-style building extended from the backside of the tower, larger in area than the tower but only a few stories high.

Also, it was pink. Barring the pointed cone roof and the windows, every last centimetre of it was pink.

“Did Princess Cadance approve of this tower?,” Red Wings asked. “I knew the mare loved pink, but I didn’t think anypony loved it that much.”

“No, it’s older than Princess Cadance is. Every time it’s due for a repaint, there’s always an argument between traditionalists about keeping it pink and everypony else who agrees it’s an eyesore, and somehow the traditionalists keep winning,” said Noire.

“Well, there could be a reason for it,” Trixie pointed out. “For a centre that treats ponies with magical illnesses, they want as little residual magic as possible. The spiral design of the tower helps that, so maybe the pink colour also has that effect?”

“Do you really believe that, Miss Trixie?” Stonehenge asked.

Trixie hung her head in defeat. “No.”

“If we are all done talking about the tower’s design, then can we head inside?” Iceheart asked, always the pony least likely to indulge in humour.

“Yes, let’s,” Trixie agreed, finally putting her hoof forward.

The group entered the main door at the base of the tower. Trixie was mildly surprised that the lobby was quiet, with only a single receptionist pony working in front of a desk. Then again, this isn’t really a hospital, complete with emergency wards. From the sounds of it, this is a long-term housing clinic too.

Trixie walked up to the receptionist. “Good afternoon, my name is Trixie, and I am here for—”

The receptionist cut her off. “Trixie? Good to meet you. Down the hall and to your left, take the elevator up to the fifth floor. Room 512.”

Trixie blinked. “Um, OK. Thank you.” Turning around, she motioned with her hoof towards the hall the receptionist had mentioned.

As the five banded together again, walking towards the hall, Iceheart said, “That was remarkably fast. We only took a few minutes to pick up Red Wings and Noire, and a messenger from the Palace already got here, and somepony already arranged a meeting space for you?”

Noire pressed the button to go up, the elevator door opening instantly. “It is odd,” Trixie said as she stepped into the elevator. “Perhaps they sent a letter by teleportation? That would have made it a lot quicker.”

“There is some teleportation mail that goes on,” Noire said as she stepped in, being the last pony to do so, and pressed the button to send the elevator to go up to the fifth floor. “Not lots, but some.”

Trixie suddenly had an odd feeling, but brushed it aside. They had gotten this far, after all. Trixie would just feed the doctor or whoever she was going to speak with some babble about what she did to the petrified Stonehenge, then try to wheedle him or her into a tour.

The elevator opened out onto the fifth floor, and the five stepped out. Quickly looking at the room number plates conveniently hanging on the wall, they went right, and in under a minute. Room 512 had an unimposing door, with a simple marker indicating it was indeed Room 512. Trixie wondered if perhaps there was a patient of interest in this room specifically that she had been directed here. Raising her hoof, she knocked.

“Come in,” came a male voice.

Trixie opened the door, and went inside the room. Thankfully, it was spacious enough that the other four ponies trailing behind were able to follow Trixie into the area with plenty of breathing room to spare.

A single pony was looking out the large window, which faced the Palace of the Royal Sisters and Mount Canterhorn. However, the most significant detail about him was that he was in a wheelchair, sitting on his croup and with his back against the chair in a bipedal-like position. “Thank you for coming today,” he spoke, finally turning himself around in his wheelchair, revealing himself to be a unicorn.

His eyes, Trixie thought. From muzzle to tail, the stallion was a chalk-white, with his mane and tail only a bare tint darker than his coat. Trixie would have thought him to be an albino, but his eyes were a soft shade of blue, as bright as the morning sky itself. Then he spoke again.

“My name is Windspeaker, and I am the Living Wind.”

Author's Note

Technically there's no such thing as albinism in horses and ponies, but in-story there is.

The Living Wind: Mysterious Magical Maladies

“The Living Wind? What is that?,” Iceheart asked.

Windspeaker leaned back in his chair, loudly exhaling. He brought one hoof up to his chest. Nopony missed how his hoof trembled as he moved it. “The Living Wind. Where to begin? I’ve considered that question so many times, and I’m still at a loss how to proceed. Hmm...how about the classical systems of magic unicorns once believed in? In the West, unicorns believed magic could be split up into four elements: earth, fire, wind and water. In the East, it was a five element system: wood, fire, earth, metal and water.”

“Both systems of which were disproved long ago,” Trixie said, shaking off the cobwebs that had grown over her memories of long-ago lectures as a filly. “Though it’s not a perfect model, the reigning system today is of a unified magical system, with ponies and other races learning how to manipulate the same magic in different ways, pioneering and forming new disciplines and subdisciplines over time.”

“Yes, yes,” Windspeaker nodded in concession. He looked around the room, assessing how well the others understood what had just been discussed. “Magic is magic, but magic is not all-pervasive. If you could describe creation, then philosophers would say this physical world exists, intertwined with magic, but still its own separate entity. Now, the Living Wind.” Windspeaker brought his front hooves up, leaning his chin against them. He quickly withdrew his hooves, as they were clearly unable to support the weight of his head.

He looked down at the floor. “Have you ever listened to the Wind, ever truly listened as it howls? It's beautiful.” Windspeaker then looked back up, facing the five ponies opposite him. “No, of course you haven’t. Nopony else has, but for me.”

Noire scrunched her nose, uncertain whether she was being insulted or not.

“Now, the Living Wind. The Living Wind. If I were to attempt to describe it, it’s impossible to fully express it, but I guess you could say it’s something that intersects the physical realm and the magical realm. Not like us, not like us ponies. We exist physically, but can draw on magic.” Windspeaker winced, squeezing his eyes shut. His tongue flicked out, before he pressed the tip of it between his teeth. Slowly, he scraped his tongue with his teeth, pulling it inwards multiple times.

Trixie was simultaneously fascinated and horrified, unable to look away. Is that an extreme nervous tic, or is he in pain?, she thought.

“Argh,” Windspeaker let out a grunt, bringing a hoof up to press against the side of his head. He shook his head before looking back up, blue eyes once more exposed. “The Living Wind, we, I, we, we ponies refer to ourselves as sapient. We call other races with thinking and reasoning skills sapient. We refer to animals who lack those higher-level, abstract intelligences sentient, for they can still feel. What if I were to tell you the very wind itself, the magical wind all around us, is sentient?”

“Hogwash,” Red Wings said, more out of reflex than anything.

Trixie dissented from Red Wings’ opinion. “Even a few months ago I would have thought it impossible,” she said. “But I’ve had my eyes opened to the fact that there’s a lot more to magic than any of us ever might know. So, you’re saying magic is sentient then? There’s been a few ponies out there who claim that to be the case, citing the existence of the Elements of Harmony as a proof, but it’s so far been unproveable.”

Windspeaker shook his head. “No, not magic itself, but the wind, the Living Wind. We, the wind, is capable of empathy. Argh, I rehearsed this meeting so many times, but I still can’t explain it.”

Iceheart wrinkled her nose. “Wait, what? You rehearsed this meeting? But how?”

“Y-yes, I did,” Windspeaker admitted. “Everywhere on this planet that air moves in currents, creating wind, almost everywhere is the domain of the Living Wind. When I was born, I was weak in form and magic. My powers go little further than levitation. What I lack in strength of body and magic, however, I make up for being the only pony alive with a close connection to the Living Wind.”

“A connection? To the wind itself?” Trixie asked, trailing off as she suddenly realised the total ramifications of Windspeaker’s statement.

Windspeaker nodded. “Yes. I was born linked with the Living Wind. We grew up with it, I am the Living Wind, so much that sometimes it is difficult to remember that I am a pony, not the wind, a pony who can control the wind, not the wind who has a puppet for a pony.” He continued, even as Trixie felt herself reeling, having to put a hoof against a table to not stumble over. “I, I cannot be everywhere, the world is too wide for me to hear everything at once. Creatures of extreme might or divine status are off-limits for me. I cannot eavesdrop in on the conversations of Princess Celestia or Luna, and I cannot see entities like Tirek coming before they strike.

Then he looked over at Iceheart, looking straight into her blue eyes with his own blue eyes. Iceheart looked back, curious why the unicorn had singled her out, but unafraid. “But the Living Wind will take notice, and so will I, when a block of windigo ice disappears, changing the pattern of the wind in the world.” Next, he looked over to Red Wings, whose red eyes were unflinching. “Or when a pegasus, wing previously clipped, returns to the skies in an unheard-of feat, flying on the wind.” Red Wings jerked back in surprise.

Trixie’s heart skipped a beat as she suddenly honed in on the obvious question. Why was somepony with a skill like this in a hospital of all things? “So why are you in the Centre for Mysterious Magical Maladies? Is it connected to this, the Living Wind?”

Windspeaker chewed on his tongue, the nervous tic obvious to all else. Then he said, “Yes. For me, the wind isn’t about magical strength, it’s about my very being. I’ve been frail since I was born, but in the last few years my health has taken a turn for the worse. The doctors can’t even tell why it is. All that they know is that it’s magically-related, which is why they chucked me in here.” He chuckled, bitterness leaking into his laugh. “Of course, I know exactly what it is.”

“Then why do you not tell them?,” Iceheart asked, taking control of the questioning. All the others fell in line behind her. Iceheart, while not the nicest pony, had shown herself to be the most composed throughout their adventures. When dealing with Windspeaker, a pony who had shown himself to be erratic in the few minutes since they had met, it was her deft hoof everypony else trusted.

“It’s simple. They can’t cure it. Nopony can,” said Windspeaker. He closed his eyes again and continued speaking even as he was blind to the world, “The Living Wind is both a boon and a curse to me. I can communicate with the Living Wind, and she, I call her she, back with me. The Wind is a gentle thing, playful. But we are linked at such a level it is impossible to separate us.” The white-furred unicorn looked and sounded forlorn now. “Thanks to our communion, my very body is fading away. It may be slow, but eventually one day, I will disappear and my consciousness will be subsumed into the Living Wind.”

The words landed in the room with a thud. Everypony there hoped that Windspeaker would drop the other horseshoe, and reveal that his fate was to be a happy one. As the seconds passed, it dawned upon them with horror that it was not to be.

Iceheart narrowed her eyes. “Yet you are telling us this all now, so there must be something you are leaving out.”

Windspeaker let out a chuckle. It was the laugh of a broken pony. “Oh, do not get me wrong. I will not regret being subsumed into the Living Wind. I just do not want it to be like this, not when I have barely lived past my twenty-secondth winter, and have been confined to this room for the last few years. Both myself and the Living Wind wish for me to live a long, fruitful life before I finally join her. Trixie,” Windspeaker said, turning to face the other unicorn in the room, who jerked back in surprise at being singled out, “The Living Wind advised me that your magic could possibly, just might be able to sever the link between us that is causing me to fade away.”

Trixie flinched. She was still struggling to process everything Windspeaker had just told them. When she had come to the Centre for Mysterious Magical Maladies, this was not what she had expected to hear. Speaking of which, how had Windspeaker known they would be here? “Something seems odd. How did you even know we were coming? This seems a little too perfect that we would come here, to your room.”

“Like I told you, the Living Wind told me,” said Windspeaker. “That Princess Celestia sent you here was happy circumstance, and I asked the receptionist to look out for the five of you and send you up here when you arrived, instead of going to go see one of the doctors. Yours is not a talent that can help the other ponies here, however, just so you know,” he warned.

Stonehenge spoke for the first time since coming in. “That us being directed here by the Princess was circumstance, you say. That implies there are other things we have done that were not.”

Trixie frowned. Stonehenge had a point.

“Y-yes, that is true,” Windspeaker conceded. “Trixie, after you healed Red Wings, I was so happy. Here was a pony who might be able to help me. However, though we do not understand the scope of your power and how it works, the Living Wind advised me that you still were not at the point you could help. So it was then I nudged you north, towards Manechester, where you would find something that might help you develop your ability yet further,” he said, taking an aside glance at Stonehenge.

“Wait, that was you? You were the one who gave us that feeling we had to go north?,” Red Wings asked.

Windspeaker nodded and said, “Yes. I make no apologies for it. You may have had to delay your visit to Colt Springs and the strongest changeling alive for a few weeks, but would you rather Stonehenge continue to be a statue in the middle of a courtyard for another five decades?”

Red Wings fell silent, the question stinging. Of course he wouldn’t. Had it not been for Windspeaker’s intervention, they wouldn’t even have known Stonehenge existed, instead going straight west.

All eyes turned to Trixie, who squirmed slightly under the collective gaze, but then steeled her back and stood up straight. “I cannot say I like the feeling of being manipulated, but in your circumstances, I can all too easily understand. I felt depressed once, thinking there was no way out, and when Noire showed up and broke the status quo for me, I eventually found a way out.” Trixie swallowed. “I would have done almost anything to seize that light at the end of the tunnel, and we did find Stonehenge in the process. But how far did it go? You sent us to Manechester, then brought us to Canterlot, and finally here?”

“N-no, actually, the rest of that was luck,” Windspeaker said, his front hooves shaking again as he tried to speak. “The elder ponies in Manechester requested you head to Canterlot, and you chose to come here. The Princess mentioned the Centre, and you chose to come here. All I had to do was ask the receptionist to send you up here when you came, instead of you asking to see the doctors.”

“Yes, I had forgotten about that in the last few minutes,” said Trixie. “I had come to this hospital to see if there were others I could help with my magic, on the sly.”

Windspeaker shook his head. “Like I-I said, we are pretty sure there are not any. Many of the cases in this building are those that baffle the doctors entirely, and who use of magic on may affect adversely. Others have magical diseases that have mentally twisted them, and so far as I know, your magic can do nothing about that, not without its own problems given your trial run. At least with me, I know what my problem is, and I also know the solution. But I didn’t think that solution was possible until now.”

“I’m not certain I can honestly help you,” Trixie admitted. “I’ve come so far in developing my magic, but what you describe seems as a level higher than the magic I’ve overcome before.”

“Wouldn’t it be like dispelling the curse of the cockatrice king?” Stonehenge asked, curious.

Trixie shook her head. “Not really. Long ago, well, only a month ago, it feels longer than that now...anyways, when I was out on the ice flats where the fossilised Windigo remains were, that was passive magic. The Windigos had died off long ago. This sounds like active magic. More than just that; this Living Wind sounds like it’s intertwined with the world itself.”

“T-true,” Windspeaker said. “It w-was why we hoped you might be able to h-help me, though. Your power is one we haven’t seen before, the power to reject how the world is supposed to be and change it.” Windspeaker’s voice was steadily getting shakier as he spoke, much like his body and limbs.

Trixie frowned. “I can try. I can’t guarantee it, however. This would be fundamentally more difficult than anything else.”

“But you succeeded in everything you’ve attempted before,” said Windspeaker.

That is true, but what I said also still stands, Trixie thought, before she briefly shook her head to clear her mind of her troubled thoughts. “Casting here would also be an issue. Any other pony who can sense magic being used will come up here to see what’s happening, and I would rather not expose my talents just yet.”

“Good point,” Windspeaker said. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Then the room shifted.

It was difficult for Trixie to say she could feel it, for such a word implied a sense. But whatever it was, it was as if the room had been tilted on an axis, at an angle of just a few degrees, yet sufficient enough to leave her disoriented. Around her, the others all stumbled, succumbing to the same weird phenomena that had just occurred.

“The Living Wind is not all-powerful, not by a long shot. However, I am more than able to mask a small room this size against eavesdropping, which includes any magical sensors,” Windspeaker said, explaining what had just occurred.

Trixie found her way back to her hooves again, though the grease in her stomach made a short, aborted attempt to lurch its way back up. “That wasn’t like any magical spell against eavesdropping I’ve felt before,” she said.

“That’s because it wasn’t magic,” said Windspeaker, his blue eyes now open again to the world. “Or at least, not solely magic. As I said, the Living Wind intersects both our physical realm and magic. My magic is a weak, feeble thing, but with the Living Wind I am capable of many things other unicorns can do.”

Trixie wrinkled her snout. Every time Windspeaker spoke, Trixie found herself both more impressed and more discomfited than before. Such a power as Windspeaker described it was amazing, but at the same time it intimidated her. Even from his wheelchair, Windspeaker could have done great things, be they beneficial or terrible.

Most of all, how was she to have a chance of breaking Windspeaker of the curse that was robbing him of life, when he was as intertwined with the Living Wind as he said he was?

“Give me a bit of room, please,” Trixie said to her friends standing on either side of her. All four complied, leaving Trixie and Windspeaker with a few feet clear to either side of them. Closing her eyes, Trixie meditated, forming the image of Windspeaker in her mind’s eye even as her eyelids filtered out most of the sunlight.

Then she cast.

Her unconscious mind recoiled at what she wandered into, and created a visual interpretation of it instead for her to cope with. The stream of magic in front of her went from top to bottom in a coiled helix, tinged the pink of her own magical aura. A second helix sat right next to the first helix, offset so it was close but never quite touched the first. This was a white, not so much the absence of colour, but a white with the presence of all colours mixed in.

The Living Wind was something even her mind couldn’t put an image to, but she just knew that it bound the double helix together in a beautiful twine, all while resisting any effort to separate them. Trying to analyse it was like a jigsaw held in a three-dimensional puzzle in a Rubik’s cube: there was a key, a way to fit it all together, but the sheer complexity of all its parts was too much for her feeble mind to comprehend. All three entities all came and met together in one small being, much like her own form, that was being torn apart by the powers three.

Not for the first time, she felt insignificant. Many a youthful night had been spent gazing into the cosmos, feeling out of place, like she was one pale blue dot compared to the rest of existence. This, however, was something altogether different. Instead of sizing herself up against the night sky, she was gazing out onto the breadth of two of the facets of all creation, and a force that intersected upon them both. To that, she was less than an ant, let alone a mare.

A mare who had defied phantasia before, however, and brought joy and healing everywhere she had gone. She exerted her will, poking and prodding at the strings of her mental vision. The double helix was like the ethereal chords of a musical universe, and as she plucked each chord, the reverberation reflected upon herself, her very being and anima. There was beauty in the world, and there was ugliness. There was hope, and there was despair.

Through it all, she had persevered, and she would not give up. The third force there, the Living Wind, seemed to ever so gently ease her task, much like the aid of the Crystal Heart and the black moon before it. She would need it, for imposing her will was becoming an ordeal. To first reject reality and substitute her own, she first needed to comprehend the way things currently were. The totality of what she saw was overwhelming, however.

This time, however, for the first time ever, reality and magic pushed back. The more she attempted to exert the way she wanted things to be, the more magical chords tensed, then snapped back.

It scared her as she reeled under the backlash. For the first time, she felt like it might not be the rest of the world that was changed, but her, and not in a desirable way.

She fled with her metaphorical tail tucked in between her haunches.

“I am sorry, but I cannot do it,” Trixie apologised, eyes readjusting to the moderate glare of the room’s lighting. She could feel drops of sweat stinging her eyes. “Whatever the Living Wind is, it is something even beyond me. The way it binds magic and our prime world together is difficult for me to even comprehend in the first place, yet alone actually force my own vision unto.”

Windspeaker sighed. It was a weary sigh. Trixie thought nobody should sound as tired as Windspeaker did. “It’ll be alright, but thank you,” the other unicorn said, but the disappointment was unmistakeable. “You’ve had times in the past where you failed at first, but upon a second try you succeeded, correct? Come back when you feel confident. It is not as if I am leaving, and the Living Wind will tell me when you return.”

Trixie bit her tongue. Given Windspeaker’s story, she did not want to tell him it was a matter of if, not when as he so optimistically believed.

However, Windspeaker was not done, and he turned to Noire. “New Moon, you do not have to worry about visiting your mother. The guards stopped attempting to find you months ago. If something goes awry, the Living Wind will let you know to leave.”

Noire was stunned as the white-furred unicorn suddenly used her old name, and staggered back as the full meaning of his words hit her. I can go home, she thought. Noire suddenly felt sad, her emotion intense enough that she could see Trixie wince at the emotional feedback the other daughter of a changeling felt. Home, to where my father died.

It was a homecoming that Noire had never hoped to see, yet if she took Windspeaker’s words in good faith, it could happen today still. Noire banished what little she could of her melancholy, and steadied herself. She was going to go home, where she could at least meet her mother and begin to heal wounds that had merely scabbed over instead of being fully treated. Only then could Noire once again feel free to fly without a weight pulling her down.

"I'll come with you, Noire," Stonehenge murmured from beside her.

Iceheart broke the mood in the room. “In that case, I will meet up with the four of you later.”

“Wait, what?” Red Wings asked.

Iceheart turned her face, regarding the mystified Windspeaker with an empathetic look. “I do not need to meet Noire’s mother myself. Barring unforeseen circumstances, we have a few days in Canterlot here, so I can wander the city to my heart’s delight later. But I believe there is at least one pony here who could use some company for a little while longer.”

It took Windspeaker a few seconds to decipher Iceheart’s words, but his eyes widened when he did. “Th-that’s…”

“It would be remiss of me not to offer my companionship, at least for a little longer. You hide it well, but we can all tell how devastated you are that Trixie was unable to help you,” Iceheart said. “Even if it is not a cure, I would spend a little more time with you. Do not think I am taking pity on you. Rather, having led my ponies in the North, I know how much every pony needs another pony to talk with, and while the Living Wind sounds fascinating, I doubt she is the best conversation partner.”

Windspeaker bowed his head. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” the purple-furred Crystal pony said, moving over to one of the room’s few chairs. Hopping onto, she turned around and sat down. “Go get your rooms and do whatever else you need to do, everypony. Come back later, please.”

“Is there anything we should tell the receptionist?,” Noire asked.

“Just tell her one of you is staying behind. She won’t bother you over it,” said Windspeaker. “It was nice to see all of you. I hope to see you again later.”

“Y—yeah,” said Trixie. She felt a lump in her throat. She never liked leaving a pony behind that she could have helped. Defeat had stung her twice before, and it wasn’t getting any easier with the third one.

The ponies went through a few more goodbye greetings, though it was blessedly short since they would come back in the evening for Iceheart. Then Trixie turned the room, and left, hoping Noire would stay silent about the shame Trixie felt.

“What did you think?” Trixie asked Red Wings as they left the Centre for Mysterious Magical Maladies. Noire and Stonehenge ambled on beside her, but she knew they would be splitting off in a few blocks. In the minutes it took them to get from Windspeaker's room down to the lobby, Trixie and Red Wings had decided to go off on their own, while Noire and Stonehenge would go to visit Noire's mother.

Red Wings shrugged. “About Windspeaker, you mean? Honestly, the concept sounds a little fantastical, truly. But I think I remember something odd about the wind, both during that time in the Badlands, and again in Manechester.”

Trixie frowned. There had been one more time even before the Badlands. A part of her had noticed an odd shift in the wind there, but she had forgotten about it when the winds all subsided after the Windigo fossils disappeared. Had the Living Wind been there, even then?

Red Wings continued, saying, “Well, if he’s being truthful, then Windspeaker can hear us right now. The fact he knew practically everything about us and we haven’t been stopped by guards yet or anything means we should at least take him at good faith.”

“The Living Wind is real, alright. What I saw in that brief moment when I tried to help him was something I can’t quite express in words, but it was far too real for Windspeaker to have been anything but truthful.”

Stonehenge looked thoughtful. “So do you believe you will be able to truly help him?”

She bit her lip, pressing hard against it with her teeth. “I truly don’t know. Windspeaker was right, though. Twice before I used my magic and failed, but each time, I bounced back and managed. This time, however, it feels impossible.”

“You cannot be too pessimistic about it,” Stonehenge said, only for the four to turn the corner.

Trixie stopped. A few hoofsteps later, the other three ponies also stopped, turning back to face her.

“What is the matter, Trixie?” Noire asked.

The lone unicorn narrowed her eyes, raising her snout to look off into the distance. “It’s been so long, hasn’t it?”

“What has been so lon—oh,” Noire said, as she turned to see what Trixie was peering at.

Red Wings and Stonehenge also craned their heads to chance a glance. “That is a large building, but what is it, precisely?” Stonehenge asked.

“Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns,” Trixie said blithely. “I went there when I was younger, only to have to drop out after only a year. I told you before, didn’t I? I left Canterlot only a few days later, claiming to be sick and having issues at home, and I never returned, until now.”

“Oh, Trixie,” Red Wings said, his tone of voice clearly empathetic.

“What I’ve done over these last few months was clearly something I never would have learned in Canterlot, and very possibly might never have achieved after graduation if I had finished my schooling here. I’ve fantasised many a night about what my life would have been like if time’s spinning gears had rotated the other way, but I’m not fooling myself.” Trixie sighed, still gazing longingly at the campus building for Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, and said, “I’ve singlehoofedly pioneered a niche field to an extend that nopony would have even dreamed possible before. But what I saw in that room intimidates me. I think I have finally hit the end of the road.”

And isn’t that a shame? After all, I did something Princess Celestia herself was unable to do by undoing the petrifaction on Stonehenge a half-century before her earliest estimate. Surely, I thought, that might mean...but is this my limit?

“That doesn’t sound like you, Trixie,” Noire said, even as she nudged the group to the side to allow others to walk by along the road, finding a quieter place to converse. “I’ve never heard you be this self-defeatist before.”

Trixie sagged against the wall. “I just don’t know anymore, Noire.”

Noire scrunched her nose. “Well, there’s no way you can go to Colt Springs with that attitude. Where’s the Trixie I met for the first time again when I came to Whinnychester? Where’s the Trixie who spent years studying theory and practicing magic from her parent’s old place, learning how to teleport after long last? The Trixie that...the Trixie that...that saved me,” said the batpony. Noire snorted and pawed the ground, but the fire wasn’t quite in her anymore.

“She is right, Trixie,” Stonehenge said, his deep voice once again rumbling. “I cannot fathom precisely how it is your talent works, but you have done something very real in helping all of us here. I do not care to think of what it would have been like for me to be free again, only to find everypony I knew was dead and gone for two generations already. Do not beat yourself up until you are certain you can go no further. Until then, you need to try. If what Windspeaker says is true and you can assist him, then it would be a great deed.”

Red Wings said nothing. He had given Trixie his praises many a night since he had regained his left wing. Exhorting her now to continue on was not necessary.

Trixie sighed, looking back up at the other three, and cracked a small smile. “You’re right, all of you are right. Separating Windspeaker from his curse felt impossible, but that doesn’t mean it is impossible. Hehe,” she giggled.

“Is something funny?” Noire asked.

“Oh, not really. I shouldn’t be making light of Windspeaker’s situation, but I just thought to myself, if I can cure his condition, then self-levitation should be a breeze in comparison.”

“I suppose that is amusing,” Noire admitted. “Well, if you are alright now, Stonehenge and I will take our leave.”

“That is fine. Red and I will get our hotel rooms set up and paid for,” said Trixie. She refrained from wincing at the cost of a hotel room in Canterlot for several nights. The elders of Manechester had sent them off with plenty of spare bits, but Trixie was frugal to the last, having once been a nomadic performer who ate the grass off the side of the roads. “One of us will have to tell Iceheart our room numbers.”

“Windspeaker could tell her,” Red Wings murmured.

Trixie bowed her head slightly, still having issue with the fact a unicorn could eavesdrop on them over long distances through something that was as alien to her as the Living Wind. “Yes, he could.”

Noire and Stonehenge traded nods with Red Wings and Trixie, and the batpony and Earth pony were off on their own way. That left Trixie alone with the red pegasus.

“So, you know where to go?” Red Wings asked.

“Ah, right. Yes, follow me,” Trixie said, moving her hooves again in the opposite direction of the two that had just left.

Red caught up to walk beside her, matching Trixie’s hurried pace. “So we check in, get ourselves two rooms, one for me and Stonehenge, one for the mares. What then?”

“I don’t know. I expect Noire to be at least a few hours, and maybe longer if she stays for dinner. As for Iceheart, well, she’s the type of pony who works well in small settings. I got the impression she intended to stay there for a while, so perhaps we can return right before visiting hours end tonight to pick her up?”

Red Wings grunted. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“I’m always full of good ideas, aren’t I?” Trixie asked, not passing up on the chance to gloat.

“What about the time you showed up with more salt licks in your saddlebag than you needed for crossing the Badlands?”
“A mare has her needs!” Trixie said, abashed.

Red Wings let out a chuckle. Even if it seemed Trixie had gotten into a funk again, she was still in good enough spirits to take his teasing like the usual Trixie.

To say Canterlot had suburbia was to be incorrect. But for the Royal Family and the richest nobles, a thousand years of history had grinded wasteful uses of land into the dust, and the prevailing trend was to build upwards, resulting in rows upon rows of many-coloured terrace houses along every street of the capital.

However, there were distinct neighborhoods, each with their own character and charm. Noire noticed that Stonehenge held himself well, even as the tribal make-up of those walking around shifted from a unicorn-plurality to a batpony-majority. The deeper they went into the district Noire had once called home, the more Stonehenge was the odd pony out.

It was his size, Noire decided. Stonehenge might have felt intimidated being surrounded by so many batponies, but his massive frame meant he would always physically tower over others. That alone meant few others were likely to mess him, even if this was Canterlot, where rough-and-tumble behavior was simply unheard of.

Fortunately, the other batponies wandering and flying around barely blinked at Stonehenge’s presence, given he was being escorted around by Noire, herself a batpony. Though Noire no longer resembled that mare of old, New Moon, she still fit right into the tribal make-up here.

“Just another couple of blocks,” Noire said, taking to the air and lightly flapping her wings. Even hovering above a few hoof-lengths above the ground, she still didn’t come to eye-level with Stonehenge.

“So this is where you grew up?” Stonehenge asked in a quiet whisper, looking around at the blocks of houses. The paint was faded on many walls, but it was otherwise an alright place. There are more ponies living in the last few streets than in all of Manechester, Stonehenge mused, feeling the proverbial fish out of water. The oddest thing to him wasn’t the rows and rows of terrace houses, however. It was the smooth paving of the roads, worn down by wind and water, but not by the many hoofsteps of others. It was clear most residents here flew around, with the walkway more an ornament than anything else.

“Yes, it is. Except for when we went on tours, I spent my entire life here. It’s good to be home.”

Stonehenge thought Noire’s sigh wistful. He knew something of that feeling of longing and loss.

The two were silent for the last few blocks, until Noire finally came up to a house. Stonehenge noted with a keen eye that whereas the house on either side had a small fence and a gate with pointed spikes, Noire’s house did not. His stomach curdled, having heard about her father’s last moments and the freak accident that led up to it.

Noire seemed to have noticed as well, her shoulders shaking. Nonetheless, she moved forward, and knocked on the door.

The two stood there for a few seconds. Just as Noire wondered whether to knock again, she heard movement from inside. Soon, the door opened.

“Oh? Can I help you with something?”

Noire blinked away her tears. Though it had seemed like a lifetime, it had really only been about half a year since last she had seen her mother, Frigor. In that time, however, her mother had gotten so old. Had she always looked that worn down? Her father’s death must have affected her mother more than Noire had thought.

Nevertheless, she had rehearsed this in her head, coming up with the magic words to prove to her mother who Noire was. Instead of saying it outright, she first had to prove her own identity. “Incognito left from the Badlands, first working in Dodge Junction for a short while, then in Baltimare. After a short layover in Weston-Mare, he came to Canterlot, working at a clock shop, where he developed a fascination with his lifelong hobby. Meeting a mare he fell in love with, he ditched both his job and his pegasus form to become a batpony, eventually joining the Royal Guard. Their daughter was a pony in every way, except she had inherited changeling magic on a limited basis.”

The other mare was stunned. Frigor’s eyes widened as she seemed to clue in just who she had greeted. Quickly, her eyes darted left and right. Noire just confirmed the elder batpony’s suspicions.

“Hello, mother.”

“That was remarkably painless,” Red Wings remarked as the two left the hotel, having dropped off their saddlebags.

“Canterlot is a big city and our capital, so there’s always lots of ponies coming in for a few days. But Canterlot also has many, many functions going on throughout the year, so the hotels were built up to accommodate those peak periods,” Trixie explained. “It’s a slower peak for the next week, so any hotel would be glad to take our bits.”

Of course, it wasn’t often that she had to actually rent a hotel room. Her time in the Crystal Empire and then in Manechester were the exception. Even when she was travelling, Trixie had usually slept in her own wagon.

It was rather fortunate that the two had gotten their rooms quickly arranged. Looking up at the sun, Trixie noted it was getting to be rather late in the day. It felt like she had only just had lunch, but between her meeting with Celestia, finding Red Wings and Noire, and then their encounter with Windspeaker, time had flown away on her, like a pegasus in a hurry. Already, the blue sky had given way to shades of pink, orange and yellow off in the horizon.

Trixie gulped. Sunsets had been tainted for her, ever since the day she had returned to a pretty Winchester sunset, only to find out about the death of her father.

The two walked. Neither had any particular destination in mind, instead taking joy in walking alongside one another, taking in the sights of Canterlot’s architecture, which seemed to morph every few blocks as the newer outskirts of the city turned towards its older core. They had time to kill, and Trixie, though she had thoughts of magic and levitation on her mind, desired a peaceful night. The clip-clop of their hooves melded together with the other ponies filtering in and out of the core.

Before Trixie knew it, she and Red Wings found themselves in the Canterlot Commons, the large square at the centre of the city, just outside the palace grounds proper. From what she remembered, it was a popular place for ponies to casually hang out at every part of the day. She and Noire had spent a few afternoons there as fillies, playing in the park and splash pools.

She closed her eyes.

“Memories?”

“Yes.”

Perhaps it had been a good thing she had come to Canterlot. Even now, she could feel the pent-up resentment and regrets that consumed a part of her. Over the last few days, Trixie had done some self-reflection. Every place I went to, there was always a pony who needed healing of some sort, and I provided it for them.

Didn’t I need some healing of my own?

Trixie looked over to Red Wings, who appeared content to wait for her. While it had only been a short time since she had met any of the ponies in her party besides Noire, they were now close friends. In the pegasus’ case, Trixie had felt a spark develop, and she knew he reciprocated. How much of that was idol worship, Trixie didn’t know, but she was certain there was also something genuine. The bits and pieces of changeling magic she had inherited from her father had come in use on many occasions.

“Let’s head over there,” Trixie suggested, pointing a hoof off to a copse of trees sitting next to one of the Commons’ fountains.

Red wrinkled his snout, as if he had been thinking about doing something else to do, but he didn’t resist. “Sure, let’s go—eep!”

The pegasus let out a startled squeak as Trixie grabbed his hoof in her own hoof, and led him over to the copse. She smirked, feeling the warm tinge of embarrassment that washed through Red Wings. Well, that was another useful benefit, one Trixie hadn’t abused in a long time, but delightful nevertheless.

Red Wings had been a nervous wreck for a few moments in Trixie’s hoofgrip, but he calmed down by the time they made it over to the copse. The two sat down against a tree, and Trixie leaned against Red Wings, the stallion’s body providing a nice source of heat in the cool afternoon. A soft breeze washed through the copse. Trixie didn’t even care anymore about the wind.

One day soon, she would journey to Colt Springs to discover and potentially train what she had inherited from her father, Wooden Chisel. Maybe under the greatest of changelings, the blemish on her spirit the Alicorn Amulet had left could at last be purged. From there, perhaps the odd, errant thoughts Trixie had had over the months and years about a greater destiny than what life had dealt her would coalesce.

For now, Trixie would sit here wordlessly, looking at the sunset, hoof in hoof with Red Wings.

Suddenly, there was a stirring of excitement in the crowd. “Hmm? What’s going on?” Red Wings asked, breaking the silence. Ponies suddenly were pouring into the Commons. Above them, multiple pegasi were flying around, some marked in the garb and colours of the Royal Guard.

“I don’t know,” Trixie admitted.

“Hang on then, I’ll go check,” Red Wings said. He didn’t want to break physical contact, but something had happened, and curiosity won out. Stumbling up onto his hooves, he flapped his wings, taking into the air to talk to one of the Royal Guard pegasi, who was hovering in the air.

Trixie watched as she conversed. There was no chance from that distance to be able to eavesdrop on their conversation. But the Living Wind could, couldn’t it? She thought. It’s an open area, and what few limits Windspeaker said it has, and that I saw, don’t apply here. Windspeaker could have been so many things in life if his body was stronger. He could have been Equestria’s greatest spymaster, a businesspony who knew things he shouldn’t have, or a powerful sorcerer who used undetectable magic.

And instead he was relegated to a lone room in a long-term clinic, with nothing to keep him company but for what was only a semi-intelligent force of nature. He had been as lonely as Trixie was in the depths of her life, but at least she had a mother and father who knew her secrets before they passed. For Windspeaker, he had grown up his entire life with nopony who could truly empathise with his situation.

A cool breeze washed over Trixie again. She was filled with determination. I have to help Windspeaker.

Red Wings returned, breaking Trixie out of her reverie. “You just had a normal conversation with the Princess earlier, correct?”

What an odd question, Trixie thought. “Well, as normal as it could be under the circumstances. Why?”

He frowned. “It seemed the Princess has ‘unexpectedly’ decided to do a live lowering of the sun and raising of the moon with her sister tonight.”

Trixie raised her eyebrows. That was unusual. When Trixie had been a filly, Princess Celestia rarely did a live showing of the rotation of the celestial bodies. The only date it was guaranteed was on the Summer Sun Celebration, and throughout the year and a bit Trixie had been in Canterlot, there were only a sporadic few dates Celestia raised the sun live, unlikely to be repeated the next year.

“Then I guess we will be in for a treat,” Trixie said as she got up to her hooves. She bit her tongue. Trixie felt as if she was forgetting something.

The two made their way up towards the centre of the Commons, Red Wings leading Trixie as they walked, elbowing other ponies aside gently to get in closer. “Is here good?” Red asked as they finally got near the edge of the inner square, where a large pedestal was set in the centre of the plaza.

Trixie bit her lip. She was forgetting something, but what? “Yes, that is go—”

The excitement of the ponies continuing to pour in washed over her. A migraine was beginning to form, and it wasn’t from the loud chatter of the crowd. Trixie’s eyes widened as she finally recalled why going into crowds such as this was such a bad idea. “No, we have to leave.”

“P—pardon?,” Red Wings asked, confused and also a little bit hurt. Trixie didn’t have time to explain, however, as she grabbed his hoof again, and started to move out of the crowd.

“Pardon. Sorry. Excuse me. Coming through,” Trixie said, trying to escape the massive influx of ponies crowding in. Where are they all coming from?! Trixie thought to herself in astonishment. She and Red had only learned a few moments ago about Celestia and Luna coming out for a ceremonial raising and lowering.

It was no good. She was trying to exit, and everyone else was trying to get in. Trixie was like a lone grain of sand pushing against a wave, and she could feel the tsunami of excitement washing over her. Her headache worsened.

An idea seized her. It would look bad to do it out in a large crowd like this, but she had to get away now. “I’m going to teleport. I’m taking you with me,” Trixie said.

Red Wings was baffled. “Wait, w—”

Trixie cast, and then he was no longer in the crowd. He recognised the area where they had been teleported to, however, as being just outside the Commons. Other ponies scattered around him and Trixie in surprise at the suddenly-appearing duo.

“Trixie, what was that about? Trixie? Trixie!” Red Wings hollered, as the mare suddenly collapsed, falling to the street. He panicked. What just happened? Why did Trixie collapse all of a sudden?

And then the living wind howled, and Red Wings listened.

Author's Note

The idea and concept of 'The Living Wind' hails back to the days when I was writing Naruto fanfiction, none of which were really good. The title character has wind as his elemental alignment. In one of my ideas that never got written, Naruto was to become so powerful that he basically becomes one with the wind, hence 'The Living Wind'. However, it also means his physical body would fade over time, with his mind and soul to become part of the Living Wind.

Eight years later and a change in fandoms that I'm writing fanfiction for later, the idea finally comes to fruition to devastating, tragic effect.

The Living Wind: Windspeaker

There was no gradual awakening for Trixie. One moment, she was asleep. The next moment, she was awake.

Trixie attempted to flutter her eyes, only to find rheum had crusted around her eyes, forming a yucky gunk that resisted her attempts to dislodge it. She flared her nostrils, and rubbed eyes to finally free them up.

She immediately decided she should have left her eyes be. Though it appeared to be dark out, the lights in the room she was in were still on. Trixie was feeling an ache in her shoulders, likely from bad posture in her sleeping position. She also had a killer headache.

Then she wrinkled her eyebrow, remembering just what had happened right before she had collapsed outdoors earlier. She stiffened.

“You are in friendly hooves, Trixie,” said a voice from beside her.

It took Trixie a second to identify the voice, before her body relaxed, relieved. “Where are we? Oh, the hotel room. Who brought me back?” She asked Iceheart, the pony sitting beside her.

“Red Wings brought you back,” Noire said, sitting over on the far bed. “Fortunately, there were actually a few ponies to help clear you out of the Commons, given most of them were going towards the Commons for the show.”

“They all bought the line that you were suffering from stress and exhaustion. I was with Windspeaker still when you collapsed, but from what he tells me, nopony suspects otherwise,” said Iceheart.

Trixie was about to comment on Iceheart’s words, suspecting how Windspeaker knew that. Noire, however, cut her off before she could speak. “You had an emotion overload, didn’t you, Trixie?,” asked the batpony.

“Yes. Yes I did. I have not had something like that since fillyhood,” Trixie said, feeling hot with embarrassment. She had thought she would no longer be paralysed by being in large crowds radiating lots of emotions. After all, Trixie had plied a trade for many years where her goal was to get ponies excited, happy and entertained, and never once had she suffered a bout of overload.

But that was a few years ago. I managed to desensitise myself over time as well, but being out of the magician act for so long, my tolerance for emotional energy has decreased, hasn’t it? Foolish, Trixie, that was foolish of you! There was no doubt about it now. Trixie had to head to Colt Springs to tackle this drawback of her heritage and, with Noire, see if she could conquer it for once and for all.

There was a light knock on the door. “Come in,” said Noire.

Stonehenge and Red Wings came in, quietly closing the door behind them.

“Is she alright?” Red Wings asked.

“I’m alright,” said Trixie, her nose twitching at how the question was directed at the other mares, as if she herself could not determine her own condition. She merely had an energy overload. She was not so frail as needing to be doted on like an infirm!

Red Wings sighed in relief. “That is good to know. I was close to a panic when you collapsed, but I was able to get you out of there, with the help of a few other ponies.”

“I’m alright, OK?” Trixie repeated herself. “I have a bit of a headache, but that should clear up overnight.” Her migraine suddenly flared up, and Trixie bit her tongue to keep from crying out. She squeezed her eyes shut, but they were already watering up.

“If you say so.” Red Wings frowned. “There’s something as well that you should know, Trixie. Windspeaker...he helped me get you out of there.”

Trixie snapped her head up at that remark. “What? What do you mean?”

“The Living Wind,” Iceheart said. “He is capable of eavesdropping with it, he was able to nudge us to Manechester once, but it appears Windspeaker is also able to communicate through the wind. It appears to be a versatile tool. Windspeaker told Red Wings the route out of the Commons with the fewest ponies. He also kept me updated while I was talking to him, and even knew our room numbers.”

As if I needed to be reminded of how powerful a force completely out of my understanding and reckoning and control is. What next, that destiny is a tangible force, that it’s been futile since the day I was born for me to struggle for greatness? Trixie kept her distaste hidden. She had recognised Windspeaker as kinship, a fellow spirit in suffering. It would not do to think badly of him. After all, the other unicorn was not the only pony with a great power that he was hiding from the world.

“I’ll have to thank him tomorrow, then,” Trixie mused aloud, before she sought to change the conversation. Looking over at Noire, she knew exactly what topic to shift to. “So how did your visit to your mother go, Noire?”

“Oh. That,” Noire said, lowering her head with a sad smile on her face. Trixie could feel the subtle brew of emotions from Noire, and knew there weren’t going to be any surprises. It was precisely how Trixie thought the homecoming might be: some joy, mixed with some melancholy and feeling of loss.

“It went as well as could have been expected,” Noire said, turning to face Stonehenge. “We got there, and she opened the door. I didn’t flat-out tell her I was New Moon, of course. I proved it with a few things, led her into the idea first, and then...”

“Hello, mother.”

Noire could tell her mother was uncertain, even without the ability to sense emotions she had inherited from her father. Frigor didn’t let her own confusion affect her, however, as the elder bat pony mare outwardly mellowed out and smiled. “Oh, come in then, both of you!”

Stonehenge and Noire awkwardly shuffled inside, the former having to maneuver to get his bulk through the door frame. Frigor didn’t stop there, however, as she led them through the front entrance, past a corridor, and then into another room.

“This isn’t the kitchen or the living area,” Noire said, uncertain as to why they were in the tea parlour.

“It isn’t,” Frigor agreed. “But this is the only room in the house big enough for all three of us that also doesn’t have windows, and I don’t want the neighbors to see your transforming. Now, how did you do it? I thought you weren’t able to transform, just like any other pony with a changeling father.”

It took Noire a second to realise what her mother meant. Oh! I hadn’t considered that, she thought. In retrospect, that Trixie had cast a spell to anchor and permanently change her appearance sounded more fantastical than the idea that Noire had achieved a feat any normal changeling could.

“Trixie helped me,” she said, before Noire flared her nostrils as she realised how misleading that sounded. “Not how to transform, though. Rather, she cast an illusion to change my colours, and even my Cutie Mark.”

Frigor raised her eyebrows, and Noire could taste the distrust from her. It appeared she would have to convince her mother some more.

“When I was seven, I had an obsession with marrying Prince Blueblood and becoming Princess New Moon,” Noire said, ears flattening as she confessed a mortifying part of her life. “I even had this ugly pink thing at the boutique that I had already picked out in my head to be wearing for the perfect day.”

The distrust faded away. Simultaneously, however, Noire could feel the mirth radiating from Stonehenge. “Pink doesn’t seem to fit you.”

“It didn’t fit my old colours, either,” said Noire, glad that Stonehenge was not of this age and didn’t know what Blueblood was like. Then she might really have been in for a ribbing.

“It’s you then, isn’t it? Oh, New Moon,” her mother bawled, and then leapt forward, pulling Noire inwards with a giant hug.

Noire hugged her mother back. It had been so many months since she had been home. She had no words to speak, merely tears to shed and a motherly embrace to seek comfort in.

Mother and daughter stayed like that for several minutes. Stonehenge stood off to the side, wordless. He knew this was a moment not to interrupt.

It was later that Frigor brought in a pot of water, moderately hot but not boiling — the mare was one of those tea traditionalists who insisted on a precise temperature of water for sipping tea — and the three found themselves sitting down at the table in the tea parlour.

“Where to begin?” Frigor asked, looking clueless what to talk about first.

Noire had a better idea, having actually had an hour to anticipate speaking to her mother again. “How about what happened right after I ran away?”

Frigor sighed. She sounded exhausted. “Where to begin?” She asked for the second time in as many minutes. “Well, the guards came and cordoned the area, and immediately began searching the house. They asked me questions about if Cognito had been behaving strangely the last little while. They thought he had been replaced by a changeling right before the changeling’s death, and that the real Cognito had been kidnapped with nopony the wiser.” Her blue eyes looked off into the distance, haunted. “When they realised you had disappeared, that changed things. You were spotted flying from the city.”

Stonehenge frowned, taking a sip of his tea. “They assumed Noire, sorry, New Moon had also been replaced and that the other changeling was fleeing to avoid being captured?”

Frigor nodded. “Yes, that was their deduction. They shut the city down for a few hours, and started a ponyhunt right after. You made it to Whinnychester safe and sound then, Moon?”

“Yes. I flew all day and night and I was exhausted by the time I got there, but I did. Trixie offered me sanctuary.”

“I see,” said Frigor, bowing her head. “Is she in Canterlot now, or is it just you and, erm…”

“I am Stonehenge,” Stonehenge introduced himself. “I am not from Whinnychester, but I am from a community much like it, Manechester, to the east of here.”

“It’s good to meet you then, Stonehenge.”

“Trixie is here in Canterlot,” said Noire. “Her and a few other ponies we’ve met and made friends with. We split up right before coming here, and Stonehenge came with me.” Oh, yes. I suppose while I’ve been busy traveling with Trixie, mother has been here all by herself. It made her feel guilty.

As if her mother knew exactly what Noire was thinking, Frigor smiled and said, “That’s good. You will have to bring them over and introduce them to me. It sounds like you have been on an adventure, then.”

Noire wrinkled her snout. “I’d love to tell you all about them, but first, how have you been, mother? No, please don’t give me the boilerplate response. I want to know how you’re truly doing.”

Frigor reclined back in her seat. She took a sip of her tea. Then she slammed the empty cup down on the table, startling both Noire and Stonehenge. It wasn’t out of anger or rage. It was as if Frigor lacked even the willpower to hold her hoof up, and let it drop on its own. She took a breath, then closed her eyes. “I was hoping to be able to take your father and bury him back home in Marequelon. Instead, I had to disavow him and let the guards take his body away.”

Noire’s throat clenched instinctively. Just like Trixie’s father. Neither of us ever got a chance to see our fathers off properly. It had hit home for Noire several months ago that she would never see her father again, but that Cogs’ body was taken away and not even given a proper burial reignited the sharp pain in her heart.

What was worse was the choice her mother had to make. Either Frigor would have to admit she had loved and married a changeling, and be ostracised, so that she could at least have his body to marry, or she would have to claim her husband had been impersonated by a changeling and not receive his body. It was a choice with two heart-breaking options.

“Oh, mom,” Noire said, squeezing her eyes shut. She sniffed, wiping the mucus that threatened to leak from her nose. She took a sip of her tea, hoping it could at least unclog her throat.

“It wasn’t a choice that I wanted to make, but I did. And you know what? I think it was the right choice. If nothing else, if you want to reappear again as New Moon, you won’t have that sword of Damarecles hanging over your head.”

“Sorry for interrupting, but what do you mean by that?” Stonehenge asked.

Noire sniffed again, and explained her mother’s logic. “Very few ponies even know that changelings and ponies can reproduce, though only with female ponies and male changelings. If my mother took the first path, then that would become maybe general knowledge. However, I would also become known as the daughter of a changeling. You weren’t around for it, but after the wedding there was a lot anti-changeling hysteria, which flared up every time a few changelings were discovered hiding around in Equestria, taking the forms of ponies. It didn’t matter if the changeling had been living as a pony for several decades: everypony assumed he or she had just kidnapped a pony only recently and taken his or her form. Even if the Guard couldn’t find something to stick me with, they would have no doubt made my life a living hell until I had put in enough time for an honourable discharge.”

“Oh,” said Stonehenge. The Earth pony stayed silent after that. It was impressive how small Stonehenge could look.

Frigor looked at her daughter, peering closely into Noire’s eyes. Noire fidgeted under her mother’s gaze, but held her head straight forward, answering look for look.

“You’ve grown,” Frigor said. “No, not like that, but you’ve changed. I felt troubled when I was younger over packing everything up and moving to the mainland, eventually landing in Canterlot. You went on tours with your company, but you were never independent. You were always just another cog in the machine, as Cogs would describe himself. But not this time, was it?”

“No, most certainly not,” Noire shook her head. She looked over at Stonehenge. “Stonehenge didn’t join us until we were four ponies deep, but where to begin. Ah, I suppose it would start off with the magic Trixie has been studying for the last few years…”

“It was a conversation we both needed,” said Noire. She turned to Stonehenge. “Thank you for coming along again. I needed a third pony there.”

“Not a problem,” the grey Earth pony said.

“Well, at least your mother is safe. Thank goodness,” Trixie exhaled, relieved. While she had not known Frigor or Cognito as well as she had Noire, who Trixie had spent much time with as a filly, she still had memories of the older mare. That was one less thing to weigh down on their merry troupe of ponies.

Trixie rolled over in her bed, pushing herself off the mattress. Her head flared up as she did, but Trixie pushed through the pain. Walking over to the window, she threw the curtain open with her mouth, fumbling a bit due to how rare she used her teeth for something other than chewing food.

“Canterlot is beautiful at night,” Iceheart said.

“Yes, it is,” Noire replied. “For all that Canterlot has odd design choices, I loved flying over the city at night. The warm thermals that would lift me up without any active flapping, the pleasant glows of the streetlights at night, and the wonderful smell of food from the bakeries...it always brought my spirits up.”

Trixie looked out at the streets, watching ponies go about their business. A few ponies walked at a languid pace. Others trotted, some cantered, and a few galloped. She wondered about all the stories they might have to tell. Some were more boring than others, but there wasn’t a one who Trixie couldn’t empathise with if they were struggling and in dire circumstances.

Hers was a gift that Trixie had developed out of an inherent skill in illusions, but it had grown into something more than she had ever dreamed of. For Trixie, there was no question. She had to return to the Centre for Mysterious Magical Maladies the next day, and again attempt to help Windspeaker.

First, though…”By the way, does anypony know why Princess Celestia and Princess Luna held an impromptu lowering-and-raising ceremony tonight?,” Trixie asked.

Iceheart shook her head. “No. Though they made the decision, whatever their rationale was, they did not tell the guards.”

Red Wings frowned. “Is that what Windspeaker told you?”

The Crystal pony acknowledged his question with an affirmative nod.

“We’ll go back tomorrow,” Trixie said suddenly. “Back to the Centre.”

“Are you certain, Trixie?” Red Wings asked. “You did have that episode earlier today.”

Trixie bit her tongue, as much to hide her headache that continued to flare up as she did not to let out a scathing remark. “It is just a migraine. A good night’s sleep, and I will be fine.”

“Speaking of which, I would prefer the three of you do not come tomorrow,” Iceheart suddenly said, looking at Noire, Stonehenge, and Red Wings.

“Huh? Why not?” Noire asked.

“Windspeaker’s room is not that large,” said Iceheart as if it explained everything.

Which it did. “I can’t see a problem with that,” Red Wings said. Finding no issue with Iceheart’s logic, the other two assented to Iceheart’s request as well.

The five continued to chat and banter some more, sharing some food and drinks that Stonehenge and Noire had picked up on their way back from the batpony district. Each of them suspected they were unlikely to have peaceful, relaxing nights like this very often in the future.

It was unsettlingly quiet out as Iceheart led Trixie along the cobbled roads of Canterlot. The morning rush of ponies going to work had just finished, leaving only the occasional housemare walking around to go shopping in the residential areas. It was a cool day, uncharacteristic for the season, though Trixie expected it to warm up as the sun continued its inexorable rise.

“Are you truly alright, Trixie?” Iceheart asked.

Trixie grit her teeth. She had already been asked that multiple times the night before. She was not a frail wallflower. Iceheart’s voice rarely varied in its tone. Just now, it bothered Trixie to hear a well-meaning question in that tone. “I am fine, thank you for asking,” said Trixie. “My headache has faded away, and that is really all it was.”

“Very well.”

There was a spring to Iceheart’s step today, Trixie noticed. The Crystal pony normally walked at an even trot, but today, she seemed excited. What happened in that room yesterday when she was speaking to Windspeaker? Trixie thought to herself. Hmmm...I went with Red Wings, Iceheart stayed behind with Windspeaker, and Stonehenge went with Noire. Ah, it doesn’t matter, so long as it doesn’t split us up. They had all been together only such a short time, but it would make Trixie sad if she had to say goodbye to Iceheart, Red Wings or Stonehenge. Noire would hurt the most. For being a friend from fillyhood that Trixie had not seen in over a decade, they had reconnected well.

If they stayed together, and found even more personal bonds with one another, Trixie would be happy. She could never have predicted the turn of events life had taken her since that winter night in Whinnychester long ago, when a bat pony had flown through her window, but it had been worth it.

“Have you enjoyed going through Equestria with us?” Trixie suddenly asked Iceheart.

That gave the Crystal pony pause, and she actually stopped. Iceheart greeted Trixie with a smile. “It has been a wonderful time going with you Trixie. I was merely glad to have finally been able to leave the fortress, but it was not until the last few days that I realised how I needed to depart the north altogether. What were you thinking about?”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m floating on air, like I’m weightless. Not like self-levitation, but that I’m truly weightless,” Trixie admitted, scrunching her nose up at how she was fumbling her words. “When I was younger, there was a period where I felt like life had it out for me. I learned, I studied, I practised, first in school then under a mentor for the stage. I started my own show, going on the road to small towns and putting on performances. And every time I started to get my life going, disaster would strike.”

“You’re worried still, then? About, what? That we will eventually not travel together any more?”

“Yes,” said Trixie. “It’s been a month since Noire and I met you, and even less for Red Wings and Stonehenge. We have so much more time in the world, all of us, and I don’t want to spend so little of it in the time of such good friends. You know, when I confined myself to Whinnychester, I bought books and studied, and practiced and honed my magic further. But even with all that, I’m not sure I would have ever left Whinnychester again on my own. When I was younger, I felt like I was going to be great. In my search for greatness, I fought the world many times. Eventually, the world won.”

Iceheart stayed silent. The purple-coated mare knew a good spiritually-cleansing rant when she saw one.

“You know, it’s funny, now that I think about it. In a sense, my magic is all about defying the way things are, and instead making them the way I think they should be.” Trixie sighed wistfully, looking off at the distant tower of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. “I guess it’s my little revenge against life having battered me down. Now that things are going good for me again, I want to spend as much time as possible together with those I consider my friends.” The unicorn mare started walking again, moving towards the Centre for Mysterious Magical Maladies.

“Some are unfortunate to have less time than others,” Iceheart remarked.

Trixie nodded. “Yes, like Windspeaker. I will put forward my best effort, Iceheart, but I cannot make guarantees.”

“It would mean a lot if you could. Not make guarantees, that is, I mean actually healing him.”

“As it were.” Trixie sighed. “You know, I never expected to return to Canterlot, but here we are. It won’t last, though. Soon, we’ll be heading west to Colt Springs. Perhaps Noire and I knew we would eventually head there, even before we left Whinnychester, but every stop we made helped us to delay going there. No more. We’ll go, and Noire and I will learn what we can,” Trixie resolved.

“And then what?” Iceheart asked, bringing her friend back down to earth.

“I don’t honestly know,” said Trixie. “Perhaps when this is all over, I will become a healer. My powers were capable of restoring an amputated wing and ending a petrification curse. Who knows what else they may be capable of?”

Perhaps preventing a pony from being subsumed into the Living Wind at the prime of his life was the unsaid thought in both ponies’ heads.

“I will come with you to Colt Springs,” Iceheart said bluntly. “You have been a fun pony to wander across Equestria with, Trixie. Besides, I suspect you will need the moral support.”

Trixie couldn’t deny that. She shut her muzzle up as they finally walked into the Centre for Mysterious Magical Maladies. There were a few ponies sitting in the lobby, and she did not want an eavesdropping pony to take interest in what she and Iceheart were discussing. Instead, the two took the elevator up to the fifth floor.

At last, they came up to Room 512. Iceheart went to knock, only for Windspeaker to call out from the other side of the door, “You can come in.”

Iceheart and Trixie walked in, closing the door behind them. Without Red Wings, Noire or Stonehenge there, the area seemed far more spacious. With a start, Trixie noticed the room was sanitised, with few personal effects. Was he listening in on us as we walked here, or were there other things holding his attention? Trixie thought.

“Welcome back,” said Windspeaker. He looked hopeful.

“The others stayed behind, at our request,” Iceheart explained. “We felt that just the three of us would be sufficient for Trixie’s second attempt.”

“Thank you then, both for coming and for the other three staying behind. While I do not mind visitors, it was getting a little crowded yesterday.”

“I thought the same,” said Trixie. Using her horn, she levitated a chair over, sitting it down in front of Windspeaker’s wheelchair. Sitting down on all fours, she faced the other unicorn. “Before we start today, I am curious. When I made my attempt yesterday, did you feel funny at any point?”

“Whatever it was you did, you were only in the trance for a minute. I did have the most curious sensation, but it feels impossible to describe. If I had to say, it felt like I was underwater. I wasn’t drowning or anything, but every second, I felt like I was paddling and climbing, getting closer and closer to breaking the surface of the water,” Windspeaker said, clearly struggling with the metaphor. “I never did break the surface, but I felt more buoyant than I ever have in my life.”

Trixie regarded Windspeaker closely. She realised why his blue eyes had surprised her before. They were much the same shade as her father’s.

She closed her own eyes, so she wouldn’t have to see his. “I see. The both of you, unless it is absolutely vital, please do not interrupt me.” Trixie swallowed. “More than ever before, I will need complete concentration for this.”

“Very well, Trixie,” said Iceheart.

“Go ahead,” said Windspeaker.

Trixie took a few short breaths, cycling out the air in her lungs. Then, comfortable in her seat, she cast.

A stallion had once told her that the Living Wind was playful. He had been all too truthful. She had been intimate with the Living Wind only once before, and already it welcomed her back like an old friend. Even in this odd realm where her mind interfaced with the powers that dictated creation, it was like she belonged there.

The physical world and the magic that interacted with it were parallel yet interacting forces, but they were merely there. The Living Wind, however, beckoned her.

Having seen it once before, she was no longer surprised to see how the three powers came together, intertwined in a small mote of dust with a magical aura much like her own. The insignificant dust mote was feeble, being torn apart by the complex chains of the world. He had said something about only a few years left, hadn’t he? She could all too easily see the truth.

The Living Wind looked as if it was trying to partially extract itself from the stallion. She looked. Even now, her mind was too feeble to truly comprehend all she saw, but she could see it. The Living Wind had no way to remove itself from the stallion without killing him. It was like one of three twines of rope wound together into a coil, and that coil defined the stallion’s identity. The other two twines were unsympathetic: what difference did it make if a dust mote died?

She knew all too well the chain reaction the passing of a single mote of dust could do. It was more significant than the massive reverberations the three coiled twines went through whenever one of them was plucked and released. She had to do this, for the other pony’s sake.

With some mental acuity, she continued to poke at the way everything fit together. Slowly, comprehension dawned on her as she deciphered the riddle, solving the Rubik’s cube, putting together the three-dimensional puzzle and assembling the jigsaw. The key she had wasn’t perfect, but it could work.

It was like she had flipped a light switch. Suddenly, she saw how everything came together. There was a way to unwind the strings that bound the Living Wind, the force of magic and the realm of creation all together in one hank of yarn in a lone mote, no, Windspeaker.

She began tugging at the strings, trying to unweave the nasty weave that was killing Windspeaker. It was dangerous work. Death lurked around every untangling motion she made. It was as if she was trying to pull out individual stalks of straw from a haystack without disturbing the rest of the pile, except the stakes were far greater.

Cracks began to form in her concentration, and she backed off as she felt the fatigue of her physical body leaking through. If she treaded any further, the backlash from one wrong move might now maim her, if not outright kill her.

Time to admit defeat. She was a coward. Perhaps what she had done would give Windspeaker a few more years. That was a moral victory she would take.

In the odd ethereal abstract of her magical spell, she turned to flee once again, only to stop.

“Hello,” said the other pony.

She felt as if she should recognise the other. The unicorn had a blue coat the colour of the morning sky, with a mane a few tints away from white. What sent shivers down her spine was the other’s red eyes. Red eyes were uncommon in ponies, but this mare’s eyes were full of gleeful malice.

“Don’t you recognise me?”

She could feel the walls she had built through years of meditation groaning under the weight of ages. The mare’s tone of voice was too much. There was a hint of ill will there, behind the fangs and the forked tongue. More than that, however, the other’s mere words left her unsettled, as if the answer was at the front of her mind, but she couldn’t remember.

The other mare’s wide smile faded, but the manic light of her haunting red eyes burned even stronger. “I suppose you don’t. After all, you’ve tried your hardest to forget me. You’ve done a good job, actually!,” she said in a sing-song voice. “But I’ll never let you go,” she hissed, her voice suddenly deepening as green purple vapour leaked out her eyes, and a red outline of an amulet appeared around the other’s neck.

She recoiled. She knew exactly what it was. But how? Had she done something by accident when working on Windspeaker’s dilemma earlier to summon up the vestiges of the Alicorn Amulet’s taint? She grit her teeth. If only she could remember, but she couldn’t even recall her own name. It was at the tip of her tongue, yet the word danced around like a mischievous faerie, refusing to be captured.

“Oh-hohoho, you and I will have so much fun,” the tainted one told her. To her horror, the tainted mare’s coat began to fade, losing its azure luster.

She lowered her head. Then she raised it back up, staring the other in her mirthful red eyes. There was no other way to leave but to exorcise this apparation that had possessed her for long enough. The power of illusions wouldn’t help here, but then, somehow she knew it was never going to be like that.

“Leave,” Trixie ordered her phantom. “I'm working. Never return.”

Her doppelganger recoiled. The other Trixie’s form was beginning to fade even more, to the point of becoming see-through, but those powerful red eyes were shining as bright as always. “Hmmph. So you finally remembered yourself? No matter. I'll leave you be, since you're working on this stallion right now," she snorted. "But I’ll be back, and again and again, until one of us wins this dance of ours.”

“I’ll defeat you next time,” Trixie promised.

Her spectre gave her a mocking laugh. “So you say. The loud words of a foolish foal who can’t even help a pony, and chooses to flee instead.” The other Trixie sniffed obnoxiously, before whipping her head around, covering her face up with her mane.

Then she was gone.

Trixie had few ways to emote, not really having a physical body to work with, going more off of abstract symbolism her mind had best interpreted as a shadowy form of herself. That had been unexpected.

The other Trixie was wrong. Trixie, herself that was, had nothing to be ashamed of. She had gotten here so far by pioneering an entirely new subdiscipline of illusions, the power to change not just how others perceived things with their senses, but the capacity to actually alter the very world itself. In the process, Trixie had helped so many already.

But then, the other Trixie had also been right. She was running away from Windspeaker’s troubles. It just didn’t sit right with Trixie. She knew herself. If she stopped trying now, it would be a guilt that would eat away at her for the rest of her life. It was, after all, how the taint from the Alicorn Amulet still resided in her.

Trixie turned back around.

There was a maxim another stallion had once told her, and which she had taken to heart before. Her father was long gone, but his spirit still lived on in her inheritance, both the magic that had helped her to get this far, and the beliefs of Wooden Chisel that his daughter had taken to heart.

Who dares, wins.

Trixie clamped down on the gusto that filled her. It was going to be a delicate job now. Wetting her lips, she focused, manipulating the strings of life-force that fed Windspeaker.

Quickly, she reached the point of no return. It was the moment where, if Trixie went any further and slipped up, the backlash was certain to be harmful. She pressed forward.

To reject the way things were and impress upon the world the way things should be was always something that was more than just magic. To Trixie, it required her to sharpen her mind, for her to truly believe it herself. She had believed that Noire should have a different coat colour and Cutie Mark. She had believed that the windigo fossils on the ice flats had dissolved a long time ago, that Red Wings had two wings, that the magic had worn out on Stonehenge’s petrification spell.

This was more daunting than anything else. Trixie had to be exact in how she believed the unity of forces within Windspeaker worked. Instead of doing it all at once, she was working piecemeal, altering her state of mind every few loops of the twines to believe this slightly different state was the way everything should work, and her magic did the rest. It was simply too complicated to do it all at once, even with the key she had unravelled. With every change, Windspeaker’s life expectancy increased.

Trixie swallowed. Her work was getting more and more delicate as everything resisted being altered. Magic and physical existence remembered how they should be, even though that shouldn't happen, and they wanted to spring back into place. The taut tension within them threatened to snap back at any moment. It was only the totality of Trixie’s will and the experience she had accumulated up to this point that let her continue.

She undid the last knot. The three twines, coiled together, fell apart.

The dust mote, cracking apart at its edges, reconstituted itself.

‘Hello, Trixie.’

She blinked.

‘It’s been some time, has it not?’

Trixie recognised that voice.

“F-father?,” she asked.

Standing in front of her was a male unicorn. His coat was as dark as a night untainted by the stars or the moon, with blue eyes much the same shade as her coat. Though not enormous, he was taller than most, with Trixie only just coming up to his withers.

Then if she tilted her head, she saw something completely different, of a changeling, one of ponykind’s most feared enemies. Either form was familiar to her, but Trixie wondered why she was somehow seeing both aliases of her father at once. Cicada was born a changeling, but Wooden Chisel had spent so long in pony society that they were at once two halves.

No, more importantly, why was she seeing her father?

“What are you?” Trixie asked.

‘Ah, that’s the correct question,’ Wooden Chisel said, solidifying in his pony form. ‘Asking who I am would have been incorrect. What I am is the better question. You could say I’m a memory of the one who was Wooden Chisel, but that would fail to describe the truth.’

“I don’t understand. I was healing Windspeaker just earlier.” Trixie frowned. “Am I...dead?”

Wooden Chisel shook his head. ‘Hardly. You are still alive. When we finish this conversation, you will return to your body with nary a scratch. No. Think about what you have done on your journey, Trixie.’

Trixie scrunched her nose, feeling moments away from a breakdown. Why was she seeing her father? She was in no mood to be strung along right now, and yet she felt like bursting into tears, hearing Wooden Chisel’s voice, seeing him in something other than a fever dream for the first time in five years.

‘Every pony you’ve met, you’ve progressively advanced your spellcraft to help. You stopped imitating the illusion spells of changelings long ago, Trixie. We could heal our own forms, but never could we have impressed our will on the reality of other things, changing inanimate objects, regrowing body parts, or ending curses through phantasmal magic. At some point, you would wander across a force that wasn’t just magical or physical, but divine.’

Wooden Chisel’s words bothered Trixie. She knew she should be focusing on his last few words, but instead she focused on his middle sentences. “Regrowing wings, ending curses...wait, you’ve been watching me? Either you’re really my father, and this is the afterlife, or you’re not my father and just in my head.”

‘This is not the afterlife. You can think of it as something like an in-between, between the world of the living and that of the dead. Not that you are dying or anything,’ Wooden Chisel clarified. ‘But you can call this the ethereal realm, the aether if you will. Perhaps you could even call it phantasia. It is responsible for some of the unexplained phenomenon in the real world. We dead occasionally cycle in and out of here, but the living are unable to touch it. Unless of course, they beat back a force with roots in this realm from killing a young stallion prematurely.’

Trixie narrowed her eyes. “So the Living Wind really wasn’t something fully of our world, then?”

‘No, it was not. You can call it divine influence, or a semi-spiritual force, or an ethereal power. But it is mostly entrenched in the living world, to be clear. The more I speculate on it, the more I believe that there are other entities out there that infringe upon here. The mechanism by which we changelings absorbed love, for one. The powers of some of those locked away in Tartarus, for another. Even the alicorn princesses, I believe, are more than simply beings with the power of all three tribes and long lifespans.’

“That...puts a crimp in one of my plans then, maybe,” Trixie admitted.

‘Yes, I think I know. You have hidden it well, Trixie, but I can tell. It was on your own initiative that we enrolled you into the School for Gifted Unicorns, after all.’

“You don’t think less of me for it?”

Wooden Chisel shook his head. ‘Had I heard about it before I died, I would have been disappointed about the Alicorn Amulet, but I would have welcomed you home in open hooves.’

Trixie squeezed her eyes shut. “I wanted to, I really wanted to. But I—I was ashamed of myself,” she said, bursting into tears.

The changeling turned pony took his daughter into his hooves, hugging her close.

The mare bawled into her father’s embrace, the warm, jet-black coat as familiar to her as his harder changeling chitin. It had been years since she had done this, not since her mother died. It would have been humiliating were any others around. Now, however, it was liberating. At least, Trixie felt that not her body, but her soul was beginning to heal from its torn wounds. Had her double been there at that moment, she would have faced herself.

“Oh, father,” Trixie kept hugging him, afraid to let go. “I don’t know what to say.”

‘I do,’ said Wooden Chisel. ‘You’ll go back, and wonder if this was a hallucination, or the real thing. You might think it the former, so that you can torture yourself over having not returned home before I died. If it’s the real thing, then I’ve forgiven you. If it’s merely something you conjured up in your head, then I’m a figment of your imagination, yes, but it also means that you’ve forgiven yourself.’

Trixie snorted, though it was short-lived. She felt as if her nose should be runny, but accepted that in this realm, she was likely some sort of quasi-spirit instead of there in her real body. “You sound as logical as I ever remember you.”

‘Your mother is up there, as well.’

She froze.

‘In death, all things reunite,’ Wooden Chisel said. ‘So it was that September and I were one once more. She is as sweet as I remember her being.’

“I...I would much like to see her again.”

Wooden Chisel shook his head. ‘It is not possible, not at this time. The aether is unpredictable like that. Even though no time passes in the realm below, you still have a time limit for how long you may stay here.’

Trixie’s heart sank, as her hopes of seeing her mother again was dashed, and her reunion with her father was also to be cut short. “Then...for however long I have left, I’d like to stay like this,” Trixie said, referring to her hugging her father.

‘I would very much like that,’ Wooden Chisel said, smiling.

The two were silent for several seconds, until Wooden Chisel said, ‘You go to see her next.’ It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

‘She is powerful, perhaps the strongest changeling ever born. She needed every ounce of that strength to survive the windigos, Discord’s era, and a thousand years of hiding from the world. She, like Chrysalis, will see the opportunity to be had in helping you, but do not let your guard down.’

Trixie looked up, resolve in her purple eyes. She found her father’s blue eyes, eyes which she had been reminded of only a short time before. “I will, father.”

‘Good,’ Wooden Chisel said, his eyes shining with pride. ‘You too shall become great, my little Bella. Only those who dare can win. So long as you keep going forward, only death can stop you, and I expect not to see you up there for many, many years to come. ’

They stayed like that, in an embrace of father and daughter, for what time they had left.

Then it ended.

“It is done,” she said, blinking.

“It is?!,” exclaimed a mare from beside her.

Trixie was slow to exit the zoned-out state she had been in, but each consecutive blink of her eyes saw her emerge more into the waking world. At last, she remembered who she was. Bellatrix Midsummer, Trixie Lulamoon, a wandering showmare, a budding magician who specialised in magic. Always before had the use of her illusionary magic resulted in some loss of self-identity, but that was the strongest it had ever been.

Even as she remembered the good she had done, even as she remembered meeting her father, Trixie shivered. That had been close. Her phantom doppelganger showing up had stopped her slide down into forgetfulness. Was she to one day become so engrossed in changing the world that she would forget her own self?

No, even more than that...father? I’m glad I got to meet you again, but I wish it had been longer. I wish I had had all the time in the world.

“It is,” Windspeaker confirmed, his eyes staring off into the distance. “The wind is finally at peace. She still beckons to me, but not longer is her tug an irresistible pull. I will still join with the Living Wind the day I die, but that day may now be decades into the future, not mere years.”

There was a brief tinge of jealousy from Iceheart, but it was drowned in the Crystal pony’s happiness. Trixie smiled at that as she sat back down into the chair she had taken before casting. She was tired, but not so tired as to collapse, like the last two times she had cast her magic and succeeded. Was it because the Living Wind helped me again, like the Crystal Heart did on the ice flats, or the Black Moon in Whinnychester? Or am I truly growing stronger now, not just in the extent of what I can change, but also by not tiring me out as much?

She had to go to Colt Springs. It was there that Trixie hoped she could find something that would let her surpass her limits as a unicorn, even if it meant having to meet her. Chrysalis had been terrifying only in part, and she was subordinate in spirit to the changeling that sat upon the throne on the west coast.

Windspeaker stood up.

The white-coated stallion furled his eyebrows as he dropped down onto his front hooves. “Well, I will not be standing on two hooves any time soon,” Windspeaker said, and Trixie could feel the brief concern from Iceheart. He trotted around a few steps. “Fortunately, sitting in a wheelchair has not so debilitated me that I cannot walk on all fours, though it will take many days before I am not winded, pardon the unintentional pun, by walking a short distance.”

“You can walk?!” Trixie asked, baffled.

“I have never lost the capacity to walk. A few months ago, however, the muscle atrophy was enough that it tired me out, and I chose to not risk hurting myself,” said Windspeaker. He lifted a hoof, and flexed the muscles of his foreleg.

He looks so thin, Trixie thought. Only now that he was out of his chair did she realise just how reedy Windspeaker was. Even the most shut-in unicorn could have pinned down Windspeaker. “So, now what?”

“Now he comes with us,” said Iceheart.

“Ah. I should have seen that coming,” Trixie admitted. It had been a running trend that her merry band of ponies gained another hanger-on at every stop they had made along their journey. Windspeaker would not be the odd one out. “So how long do we need to stay in Canterlot for? A few weeks? I assume that would be enough time for you to be discharged and build up your stamina.”

“Actually, I was thinking we leave tomorrow,” said Windspeaker, as he strode past her to the door.

“What?!”

Iceheart regarded Windspeaker cooly. “You are certain you will not be a burden?” It seemed she was wary of him departing right now.

Windspeaker shook his head. “I am reasonably aware of my own limits. Besides, where we are going next, I am certain it would not matter if I was in physical shape or not.”

“No, seriously?” Trixie asked. “You’re just going to walk out the building right now and depart Canterlot tomorrow, just like that? Do you not have family or friends or anything to say goodbye to?”

The other unicorn paused. Then he narrowed his blue eyes. “I didn’t make very many friends when I was younger. I was always distant, thanks to the Living Wind, and I knew what ponies would say behind others’ backs. My parents and sister do not live in Canterlot either, so I will send them mail instead. But. But, there is one pony I should say goodbye to.”

Chocolate Chip never thought too much about the path she had taken in life. With a name like hers, she might have gone into baking, but instead, she had taken to working at the Centre for Mysterious Magical Maladies. She enjoyed working with the fillies and colts here, even if it broke her heart to see them suffer, and the good doctors unable to heal them.

There were adult patients too. It would be remiss of her to admit to favouritism, but Chocolate Chip did indeed have favourites. Rubedo on the third floor was a sweetheart, passionate about his writing even as eyesight was shot. Sand Storm on the seventh floor had his odd disease with parts of his body temporarily turning to sand, but he had taken it in stride. Then there was Windspeaker. Even as the unicorn’s body was slowly wasting away, unlikely to reach even his late twenties, the stallion was forever stoic.

She hummed out a little ditty as she wheeled the cart down the train, full of meals for those able to eat on their own. Water vapour hissed from a dinner tray whose top had been bumped off. Moving around, she gripped the plastic lid with her wings, pushing it back into place. A spicy smell wafted into her nose. Immediately, Chocolate turned her head around, and let a soft sneeze into her feathers. She would have to wash her feathers when next she got back to the kitchen. Hygiene was important in a clinic, after all.

“Good morning, Chocolate Chip.”

“Oh, good morning, Windspeaker. You felt well enough to leave the room?” Chocolate Chip asked. She turned around to face him, only to receive a pleasant surprise. “Oh. It’s not often I see you actually walking.” In actual fact, Chocolate Chip couldn’t recall the last time Windspeaker had been out on all four hooves. She had seen it a few times, but it had surely been years.

“Yes, I am,” Windspeaker said, sound like he was in a good mood. “More than that, really. Thank you for all your hard work, Chocolate. You were my favourite caretaker while I was here.”

“Aw, you’ll embarrass me,” Chocolate Chip said, certain she was blushing through her tan coat. Then her mind caught up as it rigorously parsed through Windspeaker’s words. “Wait, was your favourite?”

Windspeaker nodded. “Yes. My time here is finished at the Centre for Mysterious Magical Maladies.”

Chocolate’s mouth hung open, the pegasus incapable of forming coherent noises.

“The magical illness that afflicted me was a one-off, and it has finally gone away,” Windspeaker said, as he walked past her. “A healer came and cured me of it. It is unfortunate that I am the only pony here who she was capable of saving, but I am forever grateful to her, much as I am to you. Continue to do what you have done. You have made my stay here more pleasant.”

It took Chocolate Chips a few more seconds to finally get past her stuttering stage, and she snapped around. Windspeaker was gone.

“Windspeaker!,” she called out, and dashed around the corner. The stallion was not in sight. Chocolate Chip furled her brows. She would have to let the doctors and the administrators know about this. Windspeaker’s method of checking out was most unorthodox, and what had that been about being cured?

“You succeeded,” was all Stonehenge had to say as Trixie walked into the room, with Windspeaker and Iceheart behind her. “It is a good thing Red Wings and I have a spare bed in our room.”

Iceheart snorted at the understatement.

“After seeing what she did with my wing,” Red Wings said, flexing his left wing for emphasis, “And with Stonehenge, I’m not surprised anymore. We all thought it was just a matter of time.”

“Thank you, then, for believing in me,” Trixie said. She lowered her head, her teeth feeling heavyset in her jaw. “But it’s beginning to take more and more out of me to do it. I’ve helped all of along the way, and you’ve helped me in turn. I’ve never had quite good friends like all of you.”

“It is nothing,” said Stonehenge. “Even if it has only been a few weeks, the four of you already feel kindred to me, as much as the Wall did.” He turned to face Windspeaker. Stonehenge’s hulking body was a striking disparate next to the starved Windspeaker. Stonehenge resolved to make sure the unicorn was well-fed over the next while. If he had been healed, then Windspeaker would surely be able to recover some physical strength. “Well, you are the odd one out, if I am correct in assuming you are joining us.”

“I am,” Windspeaker said. He leaned back against a wall, sitting down on his haunches. “I have spent a few years cooped up in the Centre, and if nothing else, your journey has been interesting so far.”

Noire was scathing in her assessment. “You want to come with us just because we’re interesting?”

“Hardly. If it were just that, I have the Living Wind for that,” said Windspeaker. “But as I said, I wish to leave, and it is not just the Centre but all of Canterlot that feels restricting. But even more, I have the feeling that you, Trixie, will soon be at the epicentre of something great, and I feel like I need to be there to help you in it, much as you helped me.”

Trixie said nothing. Her father had told her as much only a short time before.

“I spoke with him for several hours yesterday. I will vouch for him,” said Iceheart.

Noire turned to Iceheart. “It’s not that I distrust him or anything, though I will take your word on it, Iceheart. It’s just, well, where we were intending to head next before we came to Canterlot is a place that ponies shouldn’t just go for entertainment.” The batpony frowned, and considered her next words. “Not that I’m saying it’s outright physically dangerous, not when Trixie and I have a legitimate reason to head there. But it’s still not someplace to just go, like it’ll be a little vacation.” Her little rant finished, Noire turned to face Windspeaker.

“So now...unless the Living Wind tells you of something else Windspeaker, now we go to Colt Springs, to meet her.”

Red Wings frowned. “You know, even though I was able to visit the changeling hive in the Badlands twice before, I still have no idea who you are talking about. I mean, I get that she must be a changeling, but I don’t even have a name, let alone who or what she is all about.”

“I don’t blame them for not talking much about her,” said Windspeaker. “She’s a powerful changeling. She’s been around since even before the age of Discord, during the time of the Windigos. She’s one of those divine enough that the Living Wind can’t touch her, so all I have to go off is reputation and what little those in the know speak about her away from her hive.”

Windspeaker looked off to the west, where the sun was setting. “Even I don’t know her name, just her title.”

Noire trembled. “My father used to tell me stories about her. He said that all changeling queens look up to her, for being the one that survived history. She isn’t hostile to ponies, and we have an in of sorts. But we’ll still be walking into hostile territory when we go to meet her…”

“...the Empress of all Changelings.”

Author's Note

If you've been following the first chapter of this story carefully, you can probably deduce that the 'sextet' mentioned in the first chapter has finally been formed. Unlike most alternate six-pony teams that have been formed, this one even has a gender balance! If anyone wants to make a TVTropes page right about now, I'd be grateful :pinkiesmile:

Would anyone care to take a commission for drawing these six (as in, a paid commission)? PM me if interested, but I have a prefer for 'clean' art styles.

This arc was a little bit difficult to write, since we're getting into the part where there's a lot more metaphorical stuff happening. Something that would have been nice would be to get a muse with a degree in philosophy, since there's some faux-philosophy in this fic thus far. At least it isn't as long as the last few arcs have been. That's a benefit of staying in one city, and not introducing a lot of backstory and a new raft of OCs.

That being said, I'll be taking a break now from posting this fic. Though I aborted it with the New Moon arc, I want to pre-write the entire next arc to make it fairly fluid. I also need to go through the earlier chapters and do some serious editing work, as well as tightening up the timeline of this story, too: the very first chapter takes place 4 years after the Magic Duel, so I intend to make sure everything lines up properly. I may even take a leaf from Three Wishes: Hole in the Sun and do a chapter-by-chapter summary appendix.

Anyways, the next arc, when I write it, is Empress:

"What is an illusion? Something that fools, deceives, tricks. You can trick others, but you can't trick yourself!

Empress: Colt Springs

Noire thought she would be sick.

As a bat pony, there had occasionally been rumours spun around about her, specifically on her diet. The fangs helped her to digest meat, or so the grapevine went. True, she ate fish, but a lot of ponies ate fish. It wasn’t as if her diet was any different from most.

Maybe if Noire ate meat, she’d be able to stomach the sight of three stallions practically tearing into their food a little easier.

“Where does it all go?,” she whimpered as the mountain of food in front of her was slowly strip-mined, layer after layer taken from the top, until the plates were finally empty.

“I need food,” Windspeaker said, briefly pausing from his meal to answer Noire. “I sat in that wheelchair for quite some time. They made good food, but it’s always so healthy, and the portions are always so small. I haven’t had grease in years.”

“It is not what I normally eat, but what you have seen me eat before is not normally the amount I have. If I were as active as I was before, I would need to eat more still,” Stonehenge added as he finished a vegetable roll. He looked over at Windspeaker, and lightly prodded the white-coated unicorn in the ribs. “Windspeaker is correct in saying he needs to build up some mass again, so do not be too harsh on him.”

Noire just let out a little whine as Stonehenge returned to cramming more food down his gullet. She couldn’t imagine eating that much food, even when she was in basic training and had increased calorie requirements.

“Trixie thinks she’s had enough food,” Trixie groaned from beside Noire. She patted her stomach, feeling bloated. If there had been an eating competition between the mares and the stallions, it was clear which side would be winning right now.

“Enough to make you speak in the third-pony again,” Red Wings teased her.

“Yes, well, I don’t think we’ll be as well-fed where we’re going next,” Trixie said, deflecting Red Wings’ comment on her illeism. Rather than put up with another teasing remark, she looked out the window at the ocean side.

The train ride to Vanhoover had been a short one, as there were multiple connections from Canterlot to the west coast every day, and the six had taken an express route with no stops in between. Upon arriving in the coastal city, they had walked around with what little luggage they had picked up in Canterlot, and acquired a few camping knick-knacks for the travel south to Colt Springs. They had mostly roughed it when travelling north from the Badlands to Manechester with a couple of tents, but with two more members, one of them physically frail, they would need more supplies than the party had owned before.

With the train getting in later in the day, the six had decided to stay overnight and checked into a hotel. Having outfitted their camping needs, there was a little bit of time to take a tour around Vanhoover. Even Trixie had not been to Vanhoover, so it was a new experience for all of them. It also gave the fledgling Windspeaker a chance to move around and get some exercise before going through the more arduous journey of heading south along the plains towards Colt Springs.

The normal bustle of a major pony metropolis was subdued that day, courtesy to it being the middle of the work week. As a result, the six ponies that had started with a band of two on that fateful night in Whinnychester had been able to muscle through the crowds with ease, taking some of Vanhoover’s more famous tourist stops. Then Red Wings had gotten hungry, and they found themselves at an all-you-can-eat place.

“Hmm. Random thought, sorry. Iceheart, it looks like your coat is beginning to lose its luster,” Noire said, unwilling to talk any more about food.

Iceheart blinked, before looking down at her fur. “So it is.”

The others turned to survey the Crystal pony. Windspeaker had the least amount of reference, having known Iceheart for only a matter of a few days, but the change was most obvious to Trixie and Noire, who had left the frozen hinterlands of the north with the former commander. Where before Iceheart’s purple coat had possessed a radiant sheen, now it was beginning to dull. Indeed, her appearance was now beginning to seem blase, especially compared to the stallions of the group: Red Wings, with his uniform red fur from head to hoof to tail, including even his eyes; Windspeaker, with his chalk-white colouration; and Stonehenge, with his immense size that even beat out an alicorn.

“It’s been about a month now since we left the North, hasn’t it?” Trixie asked. “You said it could start to dull after a month if I recall.”

It hit Trixie just how much of a month that it had been. It was strange to think that one could isolate such an enormous world-changing series of events for her into a mere three months, starting with the night New Moon had swooped through her open window.

“Actually, I am more curious about how you seemed to shrug that off just now,” said Stonehenge. “I would you thought you to possess more affection about your coat than that.”

Iceheart shrugged again. “I suppose I was mentally prepared for it. Whenever I left to go deliver a message to Equestria, I would always think, ‘This is the time I shall lose my coat’, though I never did. When Sombra first banished me to the frozen wastes of the north, I thought I would lose it due to lack of exposure to the Crystal Heart, not realising its influence reached far. This time, it merely actually happened.”

“That’s...a little, sad? I guess?” Trixie asked, fumbling around for words. “I would have thought it more fundamental to you.”

The other mare shrugged. “I am still a Crystal pony, even if it is only as an identity now. Compared to having to leave behind an entire era and all the history we lost, it feels relatively trivial to me. I am certain Red has had greater crises about his identity and self-worth.”

“Probably,” said Red Wings. “Some days I still wake up and forget I have two wings again.” His line effectively nipped that conversation in the bud.

Trixie bit her lip. She wondered how Iceheart and Red Wings could talk about their changes so casually. Even if one was from a superficial appearance and the other was a positive improvement, Trixie didn’t think she could brush it off that easily. An idea had been forming in her head, a wondrous idea, an ambitious idea, an impossible idea, but to do it would be leaving a part of her identity behind. Trixie did not think she would ever be able to stop thinking of herself as a unicorn in this lifetime, no matter what might happen in the future.

The banter continued, with Windspeaker easily sliding into the group as the sixth pony present, but Trixie wondered how long it could continue.

Windspeaker let out a loud yawn, covering his mouth at the last second.

“It’s a dangerous job, guarding all the food,” Noire teased him as she flew beside him.

Windspeaker wisely chose not to rise to her bait. Instead, he changed his sitting position in the cart.

It was a little embarrassing for the unicorn, but he simply was unable to walk long distances. The group had anticipated this, and rented a cheap cart, stocking it up with their camping equipment and goods as they trotted from Vanhoover down to Colt Springs. Stonehenge may have been a fighter in his day, but he had also been a manual labourer, one who came from fine drafthorse breed. It was he who hoisted the cart behind him most of the time. Occasionally, the Earth pony traded out with Trixie, who had moved a wagon long distances before her retirement as a showmare.

Occasionally, Trixie would float alongside the wagon. Her bursts of self-levitation were short and brief, but they were a breakthrough in something she hadn’t consciously been able to achieve before. The magician found it funny in a depressing way that even though Trixie was pioneering an extreme specialisation of magic that she was certain nopony else had ever achieved, she still struggled to get a merely advanced spell such as self-levitation down.

Fortunately, the roads were good, with one long stretch of paved passageway from Vanhoover all the way down to Las Pegasus. The six passed by many ponies going the other way, and overtook and were passed by many more going down to Las Pegasus. At night, they would move away from the road and onto the beaten path, setting up camp. Though Equestria was a safe land, it was not too unusual for many ponies to set up a watch at night: however, the Living Wind was versatile, and Windspeaker promised it would wake them all up if it sensed any danger coming their way.

The nights were always night and moderately cool, with soft winds sweeping through their camp. The six shared stories, both real and fictional, over the bonfire that they always built. Through the senses they had inherited from their changeling fathers to be able to feel the emotions of others, Trixie and Noire both knew that their group was growing ever closer together. Somehow, the addition of Windspeaker made it feel ‘complete’.

Trixie hoped it would never end.

Slowly, the distance between their travelling caravan and the town of Colt Springs narrowed. Colt Springs was a small tourist town located on the West Coast, south of Vanhoover and north of Las Pegasus. Eventually, they departed the main road between the two major West Coast cities, and went onto a smaller side road that lead to Colt Springs, winding in around the side of a mountain before finally reaching the village itself.

The six ponies smelled the salt in the air before they got close to Colt Springs. The odor drifted a long way from the ocean, causing a few of them to turn their nose up. However, as they got closer, each of them managed to catch a glimpse of white.

The buildings took on more detail as the band continued to approach Colt Springs. Only Trixie and Red Wings had ever visited the west coast, the former while in her function as a showmare and the latter while wandering away from his former hometown. As a result, they were unsurprised to see a sea of white sprawled out before an ocean of blue. For the other four, however, it was their first time to observe a tropical, coastal town such as Colt Springs. Manehatten and Baltimare might have been coastal, but they were not located in anywhere near as nice a climate zone as Colt Springs was.

It showed in the houses, which were almost universally white-washed with blue roofs. Trixie knew it had something to do about keeping the insides cool during all times of the year. It complemented the sunny day perfectly.

With the buildings came the sight of the ocean, a blue-green that was pleasant to the eyes. The sound of waves washing upon the land drifted on the soft sea breeze, beckoning visitors and tourists ever closer. The entire visual effect was something that could drive painters to tears trying to capture it on a mere, still canvas.

Colt Springs was renowned for its waters, being squished in between the ocean on one side and natural springs on the other. It laid at the end of a short mountain range, with a few caves that even had indoor hot springs. Of course, Trixie knew the true secret of Colt Springs: much like the hive in the Badlands, the deep, interior caverns of Colt Springs was home to another changeling hive, if one only knew where to find the hidden tunnels that lurked within the deep. Unlike the Badlands hive, however, the Colt Springs hive was home to the single most powerful changeling on the continent, the Empress of all Changelings: she who had been there when the Windigos had been vanquished.

Somewhere, deep within the mountains, Trixie would find the answers that Queen Chrysalis had directed her to seek.

Colt Springs hadn’t always been named that way, undergoing several name changes over the year, briefly renamed as Weston-super-Mare before finally becoming Colt Springs. Despite its tourist trap veneer, it was still very much an older settlement. The cobblestone road that marked the last stretch of the distance before the outback turned into the outskirts of town was in good shape, but its upkeep couldn’t hide its age. Colt Springs was a town with history.

Very few ponies knew of its true history, of course. The story of Colt Springs was the story of the changelings, and how they came to Equestria.

Even Trixie didn’t know much, however. Her father had told her bits and pieces during his oral histories on the changelings, and where they had come from. Supposedly, the Empress of All Changelings, after surviving the era of the Windigos, had come south with the three pony tribes to what was now Equestria. Even as she continued to hide her true race, the Empress had hunted for a place to call home, eventually settling upon Colt Springs, where there was a labyrinth of rolling hills surrounded by mountains. It was there that Equestria’s first changeling hive was created, and thus its oldest.

That it hadn’t moved since made sense. If anything, the pop fiction Trixie had read gave her the idea that a villain’s lair should be deep underwater, or in a volcanic lair beyond the mountains of doom. Of course, the changelings were hardly villains to Trixie, but the point still stood: nopony would expect a large changeling hive to have been established in what had since become a tourist village.

The transition from countryside to town was much like any other location Trixie had visited: larger houses spread apart set on larger acreages, some of them with attached farms, with a half-way house where they dropped their cart off, slowly giving way to several houses built closer together, and finally turning into the town proper. Before the six ponies knew it, they were surrounded by two and three-story houses, with the rolling hills that Colt Springs was built on descending at a sharp angle to the ocean below. The cobblestone had been changed out for white stone, which was pervasive in both the buildings and the ground. White prevented the build-up of heat, and so it was what the majority of Colt Springs used.

“On a clear day, you can see forever,” Stonehenge mumbled as he saw the west coast of Equestria for the first time in his life. It wasn’t really anything different from the east coast that he saw when Stonehenge occasionally visited Manehatten, except that the sun was over the water in the afternoon instead of the morning. However, the sight was far more riveting than it had been in Manehatten.

The six stood there for a little while. The sunlight beating down on them and the warm tropical breeze washing over their coats dulled their sense of priority. The Empress could wait. For now, they deserved a break.

Nopony spoke for the longest time. Trixie thought it to be perfect. Was their group not now complete? It felt so. She could not imagine a life without the five dear friends she had met since this adventure of hers started, on that lonely night in Whinnychester.

Finally, Red Wings broke the silence. “We’re here. Now what?,” asked the red-furred pegasus. “I’m beginning to realise Queen Chrysalis never said anything than to come out west. Not even who to meet or anything aside from just seeing the Empress, but I doubt we’ll just be able to walk up to her and ask.”

“Over a third of this town are changelings in disguise,” Windspeaker revealed. By this point in time, nopony needed to ask how he knew the things he did. Windspeaker just did, courtesy of the Living Wind. “Though the mayor in town is not, she is well-aware of what this place is, and is one of the lines of communication from the town to the hive. We should talk to her to gain access to the Colt Springs hive.”

“Then where should we head, Windy?” Iceheart asked.

Windspeaker looked around and nodded towards a cobblestone road that had been upkept well, one of maybe that all winded downhill. “This way,” he said, trotting off. Iceheart quickly followed behind him, leaving four other ponies confused. Windy? Even for Trixie and Noire, who had journeyed with Iceheart the longest, that was the most casual term of endearment they had ever heard Iceheart use.

Trixie grinned a modest smile before pacing after the two. It seemed that every day that passed was bringing their odd sextet closer and closer.

In a way, having Windspeaker around was a boon that the other five could never stop appreciating. With the Living Wind at his side, Windspeaker was an unspoken master of surveillance. Whenever they needed information, he had it ready at his hooftips. Knowing the shortest route to the mayor’s office was just one of the small things that made their lives easier, even if they were to bypass potential tourist sites as a result.

Even still, it was a nice walk. The sound of waves in the distance was light but audible, and the daylight warmed them up nicely. If they hadn’t been here for business, and the ambition in her heart hadn’t been burning with a reignited fiery passion, Trixie would have figured Colt Springs for the perfect spot to wrap up their journey and stay. Kitschy as it might seem, the town of blue roofs had charm. No longer facing them from above, instead trotting past them from below, they took on a different form: the roofs blended together with the cloudless sky, creating a vivid and dizzying effect.

Along the way, they walked by several ponies and the odd donkey. To Trixie’s senses, many of them felt hurried, yet there were a few ponies who instead seemed suspicious of the group of six. Trixie had no surefire way to identify a changeling in this town, but she at least expected the average changeling would be more paranoid than the average pony, when a hive was so close by.

At long last, the slow decline in the road tapered off, and they found themselves walking on a flat road. The mayor’s office was obvious as Trixie spotted it: a large house sitting behind a medum-sized gate, with two ponies acting as guards casually playing cards with one another. Neither seemed to have a care in the world. With the nice day and the unimportance of a town like Colt Springs to the pony eye, Trixie could not blame them.

To Trixie’s surprise, Noire took front. “Good afternoon,” she said, greeting the two guards.

The lime green-coated stallion on the left sat up, mildly surprised as if he had not expected anypony to visit. “Good day,” he greeted back. “What can we do for you?”

“We are new to town,” Noire said. “My father recommended when I visit here that I should visit the mayor here, however. Even if I have a number of friends with me, it is still advice I’ll follow.”

“Your father, eh?,” asked the yellow-coated mare on the right. “What’s his name?”

“Incognito.”

The two pony guards suddenly jumped, trading suspicious looks. Trixie deduced why quickly, and had to commend Noire for her cleverness. ‘Incognito’ was not really a pony name. It wasn’t exactly like it would be unique among ponies, but it would still be a very rare name.

Among changelings, however, it was a common name. Any changeling, or any pony with exposure to changeling culture, would quickly have her or his attention aroused.

The mare frowned. “Who are you, exactly?” Her tone of voice was slower than it had been earlier.

Iceheart stepped forward, making sure not to walk too sudden to surprise the suddenly-skittish guardsponies. “Friends, of a sort, who wish to visit an elder. Even in my case, as a Crystal pony who was stuck in the stasis of the empire for a thousand years, I suppose she still qualifies as my elder. Still, having stood guard against the Windigos, I hope she may appreciate a kindred spirit.”

Now there was no mistaking the hints Iceheart and Noire were dropping, having escalated from subtle to blatant. The stallion narrowed his eyes. “Sunflower, I’ll go talk to the mayor. She’ll want to know some guests are inquiring about the Queen Mother.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on them,” said the mare named Sunflower. She looked the six over. “You’re not ordinary ponies, you six. Are any of you…?” Her question trailed off, but it was obvious what she asked.

“No,” Trixie said, finally taking the lead. “However, my father was, as well as hers,” said the unicorn, gesturing to Noire.

The stallion jerked as he picked up on the implication, halting his movement away from the gate. Trixie wracked her brains, trying to remember if any of the ‘aunts and uncles’ she had ever had to write letters to of her father’s death had been from Colt Springs. She didn’t remember clearly, but Trixie did not think so. Regardless, it appeared the stallion knew exactly what Trixie meant. She still didn’t know exactly what species the stallion truly was, making his intense eyes all the more intimidating.

Well, Trixie had journeyed long and far and tapped into the essence of magic to get this far. A mere stallion glaring hard at her, whether he was a pony or a changeling, did little to frighten her.

The two guards traded looks. The mare nodded at the stallion. “I’ll go check with the mayor instead of you, Gale. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t dilly-dally too long,” the stallion, Gale muttered as Sunflower quickly rushed into the manor. Trixie caught a quick glimpse of the inside of the house, noting it was fine marble. Gale kept his focus on Trixie and Noire, as he turned to face back towards them. “So only two of you were so born...but then, why are there six of you? Do you think we simply grant entrance to anypony who wants it?”

Noire gestured to Iceheart. “She fought against the Windigos before being sealed in time with the Crystal Empire’s stasis. That should merit her entrance. The Badlands Queen at the least was glad to receive her.”

Gale’s eyes widened, and for once in her life, Trixie could see the truth in the idiom ‘hair rising up on one’s back’ as his coat did just that. “Is that where your fathers came from, then?” There was hostility in his voice.

Trixie was uncertain as to what the politics were between the Colt Springs hive and the Badlands hive. Chrysalis had never said a word. The best guess Trixie could make was outfall over the Canterlot invasion, when Chrysalis had exposed changelingkind to ponies. However, there was no point in dancing around words. “They were,” Trixie said.

“Hmm. So there is still love in the world.”

Trixie blinked. She was uncertain how to interpret Gale’s words. “We asked the queen of our fathers what it meant for us to be born of two separate species. She sent us here instead.”

Gale snorted. “Perhaps the only wise action she’s made in the last decade, then.”

Noire narrowed her eyes. She was unsure of what Gale meant, but Noire assumed there was little love lost between Colt Springs and the Badlands. Chrysalis revealing the changeling race to ponykind had probably not impressed any changeling Queen. Bad blood was certain to result.

However, it was now certain to the batpony: Gale was a changeling-cum-pony.

Gale’s last line left the ponies and the stallion in an uneasy silence. A few minutes passed, before Sunflower finally came out, visibly panting. “Gros gives them permission to come in.”

The lime-green stallion frowned. “Is she certain?”

“You don’t trust her?”

Gale shook his head. “No, not that. If she is willing to see them, then I will allow them to pass.”

Sunflower nodded. “Of course.” She turned to face the six. “Follow me, please.” Turning around, the soft brown-coated mare walked towards the household only just large enough to call a manor.

Trixie traded glances with Noire and Iceheart. It was easy to deduce which of the guards was a changeling and which was not by the way Sunflower had deferred to Gale. Still, it feels weird to see a pony obeying a changeling and acting timid in front of him, in Equestria, Trixie thought. Colt Springs truly was a secluded place for that to happen.

Nevertheless, they had not come all this way to Colt Springs only to cower at entering a mere mayor’s house, not when the more intimidating task of seeing the Empress was yet ahead. Trixie cantered after Sunflower, and the rest fell in behind her. It made for an odd scene, nearly always going around in an entourage of six, making it inconvenient in moments like this. However, for when Trixie and Noire met the Empress, she felt that it would be best to have additional ponies around, merely for the moral support.

Entering the house, Trixie saw that it was more marble. The front entrance was right out of a stereotype of a fancy county manor from two centuries ago. Two large, curved staircases on either side of the room with extravagantly carved hoof railings led up to a second room, multiple chandeliers hung from the roof, and the walls were dotted with paintings. Several decorative ornaments were scattered around the room, a vase here, a bust there. Though the marble floor was still obvious, a red carpet led from the entrance up to the door in-between the two stairs.

Instead of continuing through the main, large door, however, Sunflour dovetailed left, taking Trixie and her friends into a side door.

“Oh, hello! Welcome to Colt Springs, travelers! I am Mayor Gros Michel,” greeted a mare behind a desk with a mane and colt that were both a radiant yellow, several shades more brilliant than Sunflower’s was. The mayor practically beamed at them, sparkling white teeth matching her lustrous fur, blue eyes shining with enthusiasm. “You can call me Michel for short, though, I know Mayor Gros Michel can be a mouthful to say over and over again!”

Trixie could tell, could feel the mayor for what she was really feeling. Gros Michel was exuberant on the outside, but it was all fake. Instead, the mayor was giving off short bursts of a moody fear and trepidation. Trixie could understand all too easily why. After all, it wouldn’t have been every day a group of six ponies turned up on Michel’s doorstep looking for the Empress of All Changelings.

She opened her mouth to respond, only for Windspeaker to suddenly step forward. “We wish to see the Empress,” he spoke bluntly.

Trixie found herself slack-jawed at Windspeaker’s sudden forwardness. The unicorn she had met only a short while ago in Canterlot had always seemed mild-mannered, only showing a great amount of emotion when he thought she could help heal him of his illness, and then when Trixie had actually succeeded. For Windspeaker to suddenly speak out in front of everypony else showed he was finally gaining the confidence Trixie thought he lacked.

The fear she could sense from Gros Michel suddenly vanished, leaving Trixie stunned at the mare mayor’s sudden mood swings. Instead, Michel now reeked of suspicion. “Who are you all, really?,” she asked, standing up. Trixie idly noticed the mare had a stalk of bananas as her Cutie Mark, now that she could see her thighs. “You can’t be from any of the hives, or else you would—no, never mind that.”

“She and I had changeling fathers,” Noire said, pointing at Trixie. “We did not grow up in our fathers’ hive, but we recently visited it. Queen Chrysalis of the Badlands Hive recommended we come here to find out more on what sets us apart from other ponies, what qualities we have by being hybrids.”

The suspicion held strong. “Chrysalis sent you? What mischief is she planning now?”

“Please,” Trixie said, attempting to try to get on Michel’s good side. “I have been living in a rural settlement for most of the last few years, but I have been practicing my magic in the meantime. I have a little bit of talent with illusions, and I was curious if it was related to my father being a changeling, and his transformation abilities. We also wanted to understand how we can use the little bit of magic of the other tribes we weren’t born into better.” Trixie motioned to Iceheart. “Iceheart here is one of the Crystal Ponies who was stuck in stasis. It’s not obvious anymore since her crystal coast sheen has faded, of course, but she is. She was at one of the Crystal Empire’s forward bases when the Windigos were around. Queen Chrysalis said the Empress might also be interested in seeing her, too.”

Suddenly, Michel’s suspicion abated, replaced by a smug feeling of satisfaction. “Ah. I think I see now. Sunflower.”

“Y-yes, mayor?” Sunflower asked from behind Stonehenge.

“Please bring him here.”

“Ah! Of course, mayor!”

With quick hooves, Sunflower suddenly dashed out of the room, and was off.

Gros Michel watched with a fond expression as the younger mare left. “She’s a good filly,” Michel commented.

“I...guess?” Stonehenge part-asked, part-commented. He had felt a little awkward as Sunflower had been pushed up against him, owing to the tight confines of the office when there were seven ponies crowded in there in front of the desk.

“She is. Sunflower is my daughter, but she’s a consummate professional on the job, always making sure to call me mayor while she’s working as my assistant.”

“Ah,” Stonehenge nodded, understanding. The family resemblance was there.

Michel eyed up Trixie and Noire. “So, your fathers were changelings, and your mothers were ponies, right?”

Noire and Trixie glanced at one another, before looking back, nodding. Neither of them were certain if the mayor was merely making idle conversation, or if they were still playing verbal warfare. It was a delicate situation, and neither mare wanted to stumble through it unaware.

“Then you’ll understand why it’s a good thing Sunflower is a filly instead of a colt. The way she keeps eying up that Gale fellow after I keep scheduling them together, well, if it was the other way around, they could do all sorts of the other sort of consummate and I would never get to see a grandfoal.”

It took Trixie a few seconds to understand what Michel was trying to say. Behind her, Red Wings suddenly snorted, as if he was desperately trying hard not to laugh. Realisation dawned on Trixie as soon as Red Wings let out a bark of laughter, and she reddened at the lewd implications of Michel’s words. “You’re trying to set up—”

“Listen,” Gros Michel suddenly interrupted Trixie. “You’re here to see the Queen Mother, right? The Empress, I mean.”

“Yes, we are,” Iceheart quickly interjected. “Is the Queen Mother another name for her, then?”

Michel rolled her eyes. “You really don’t know very much, then. I guess you truly aren’t changelings, then. Otherwise Chrysalis might have cared to give you more than the bare minimum.”

“I’m sorry?” Iceheart asked, uncertain if she had offended Michel.

“That’s alright. It’s been awhile since the Queen Mother has seen any visitors. I have to make certain any who do don’t have hostile intentions towards her. I’m the pony here they trust the most,” Michel said. Though she didn’t puff up her chest, the pride was obvious in her voice. “I was wondering if you were here to see the Queen instead, but when you said you were hybrids, I at least understood why you wished to see the Queen Mother.”

“Wait, the Queen? Er, the Queen Mother? What’s the difference?” Windspeaker asked. He did not know any of this. He wished he had spent more time trying to understand the changelings and changeling culture while he was younger, but he had never expected to have to actually make a journey out to the ancestral home of the changelings.

The mayor rolled her eyes again, and snorted. “You really do know very little out here. The Queen Mother passed control of the hive down to her daughter many years ago. Her daughter is the Queen now. Were it not for her title of Empress, the Queen Mother would have been left without a real title upon abdicating her rulership of the hive here.” Michel raised her eyebrows at the looks of surprise on everypony else’s faces. “Did you really not know anything about her before coming here?”

“Well…” Stonehenge trailed off, before picking up his train of thought again, “We did know a few things…”

“So, who is this ‘Empress’, exactly?”

It was a question that Trixie and Noire had expected for several days, after Trixie’s revelation of the Empress’ title and the bit of her outliving the Windigos. To the others’ credit, they had the discretion to wait until well after the six had left Canterlot, travelled by train to Vanhoover, and then left the coastal metropolis.

Instead, the question had been asked the first night out of Vanhoover, after settling down for the night. Iceheart had finally grown curious and decided it was better to ask now than to wait until they were in the belly of the beast to learn more about the Empress.

“The Empress...well, um,” Noire struggled to come up with an adequate explanation. “She’s not really an empress, not the way you would envision her with that name. It’s an honourary title that she was given over time by her daughters. She only rules over her own hive, but nearly every changeling in Equestria, certainly every Queen is descended from the Empress. At a conference many years ago, the other Queens came together and bestowed unto her the title of Empress of the Changelings.”

“It’d be like if Celestia and Luna actually gave birth to every noble line in Equestria,” Trixie added. Somehow, such an idea seemed anathema to her. Perhaps it was because despite being born of both pony and changeling, Trixie herself was a pony, who had grown up knowing a pony ruler. She had no connection to the Empress, except as her father’s ancestor by several generations. What might be blase to hear about the Empress was far more radical if Trixie imagined Princess Celestia to do it. “And then the nobles came and elevated them up to a higher title, but in practice they ruled perhaps just Canterlot.”

Iceheart nodded as she understood what Noire and Trixie had just told her. “So in essence, the Empress truly could be said to be the ancestor of all Changelings, then.”

“On this continent,” Noire corrected her. “She apparently came from another continent with a few others to help fight the Windigos, but she is the only one who survived those days that you would know well. There may be a few changelings unrelated to her who came over later, but still nearly every changeling can trace his or her heritage back to her. If we go off the other hybrids who have a changeling father who have lived over the age, I expect many ponies could even call her their many greats-grandmother, if only they knew they had a changeling in the family tree.”

There was a brief few moments of digesting that information as Windspeaker, Stonehenge and Red Wings considered that. Iceheart knew it was unlikely for her, as the changelings had purportedly only come over to this continent during the time of the Windigos, likely not that far removed from when Iceheart had been born.

“Why Colt Springs, then?” Iceheart asked. “I would have expected her to be living close to Canterlot, or anywhere else really where ponies would have settled in Equestria’s early history. Why settle an out-of-the-way village far from Canterlot?”

“That might be easier for me to answer,” Windspeaker suddenly said, interrupting the mares. “Colt Springs exists as a tourist town. That much is legitimate, and many of its permanent residents are ponies, including some whose families have been here for generations. However, much of it is a front for the hive to conduct trade with Equestria, even if Equestria does not realise it. For all their ability to gain energy from emotions, changelings still need to eat things with actual substance, so more food disappears into Colt Springs than a town of its size could possible consume. The same holds with both other essentials, and luxury goods. Meanwhile, a great deal of the hive’s specialised goods are exported out: mushrooms, minerals, and root vegetables. Many of Equestria’s greatest architectural engineers are secretly changelings, who receive a foalhood’s training in reinforcing underground caverns, and some of them will choose to send money back home. Colt Springs is no different in that aspect either. These things would have been noticed quick in Canterlot, or Manehatten, or Vanhoover, or any other place where ponies pay attention to things. A town out of the way that few pay attention to is the perfect place to hide out.”

Trixie raised her eyebrows. She was genuinely impressed. “The Living Wind is something any spymaster would envy.

Windspeaker turned away, his white coat colouring slightly. “It is not all-powerful. It can’t read very well underground, considering how the wind has a tough time indoors, and I can only learn what I ask the Living Wind to tell me. It is not as if I try to eavesdrop in on personal conversations, either. Confined to my bed, however, I took great joy in learning about the world around me.”

The white-furred unicorn frowned, peering around the great plains that surrounded them. In the morning, as the sun rose, the mountains to the west that dotted the coast and spawned the patches of beachfront that hugged the water could be seen off in the far distance. For now, however, the land was flat as the eye could see in the waning daylight.

“It’s odd, though,” Windspeaker continued. “That I should know almost nothing about the Empress, that is. She seems to be one of those entities that the Living Wind cannot directly touch, but it should at least be able to sense whenever she leaves her hive. To my knowledge, she hasn’t left since before I was born.”

Noire frowned. “That doesn’t seem right. My father was of the Badlands Hive, but he was well-acquainted with changelings from other hives. The Queens do leave their hives. Some are more secluded than others, but I don’t think that any would go so far as to stay underground or inside a mountain for twenty-two years. Changelings aren’t designed to stay inside for that long. They simply need sunlight from time to time.”

“All this I know and more,” Windspeaker said.

“Perhaps she cannot?” Stonehenge suddenly asked. He had been feeling left out of the conversation, not knowing much of the changelings like Noire and Trixie did, or being in the loop with a grand source of knowledge, like Windspeaker was. Having seen a spot to enter the conversation, he took it. “Ah, like me, I suppose. I was unable to move for fifty years, after all.”

“I doubt it,” Trixie said, dismissing his suggestion. “It’s not that it’s a bad idea, it’s just that, well, she’s the Empress. My father only spoke of her in very brief words, but I had the sense that she was a Very Important Changeling. Admittedly, I had thought she was just a fairy-tale father had made up, but Colt Springs was still the ancestral home of the changelings. If she were to be petrified, or to have died, even my father out in our ponydunk village would have known. Besides, Queen Chrysalis did send us out here.”

“I see,” Stonehenge said, figuratively retreating from the discussion with his tail between his legs.

Iceheart was the next to make a suggestion. “Politics, maybe. I could have left at any time from my fortress had I desired, but politics and fear had stayed my hoof. If this Empress is as great as you state, leaving her home may bring consequences. How many Queens are there in Equestria?”

“Thirteen,” Red Wings said. It was one of the very rare pieces of information he was privy to as a sort-of friend to the changelings of the Badlands.

“Thirteen, then. It may be the Queens are politically matched against one another and are in a delicate stalemate, and if the Empress were to come out it may upset the status quo in a poor way.”

Trixie nodded. She wasn’t certain of Iceheart’s idea, but it had merit. “That could be. I can believe it.”

“Do you think Chrysalis sending us here was to force the Empress’ hoof on something, then?” Noire asked, her paranoia suddenly spiked.

“I can’t say for sure,” said Windspeaker. “They’re all powerful enough that the Living Wind is ineffective on them. It is not as if I took an interest in changeling politics beforehoof, either. While the Living Wind is able to hear and see nearly everything, I first have to take an interest in it to know what the Living Wind does.”

“I’m surprised you never reported anything to the authorities, then,” Red Wings mused.

Windspeaker responded, “I have in fact reported more than a few things in the past, but always through anonymous notes. They were the lower, more personal, laypony things, however. Helping a mother find her lost filly, tipping the police off to the perpetrator of a crime, bringing closure to a tale of love lost. I spent many years unable to move around quickly, and then many more mostly confined to beds.”

“But not the big stuff?” Red Wings asked, feeling around to make sure he did not intrude on something too personal.

The unicorn stallion huffed, the first sign of impatience he had shown thus far. “I had to reconcile my ability with society at large for my entire life. I could have made a larger difference, but, well, I was still struggling with understanding my own self at the time. By the time I had reasonably gotten to grips with my connection to the wind, I was already crippled, and I made the choice to let the world pass me by and become a neutral observer, merely looking on in curiosity.” Windspeaker gave a sidelong look at Trixie. “Well, until a potential cure finally came along.”

“You are getting off-topic,” Stonehenge said, drawing everypony’s attentions again. “What of the changelings and their relations to one another?”

Windspeaker crossed his front limbs in front of his torso. “Again, I can’t really tell you that much. I never really listened in on them much. I know the hives have skirmished with one another in the past, but their common relation always prevents things from going too far. Colt Springs seems to mediate some of the conflicts that have broken out, but never have they partaken in their own war.”

“Which makes sense, then,” said Stonehenge. “If each of the Queens calls the Empress her mother, they would never kill their mother, would they? Or attack her hive? Sorry, I am just guessing here, I don’t actually know that much still about the changelings.”

“No, I think you’re right,” said Noire. “I don’t think all the Queens are directly the Empress’ daughters. I think a few of them may be granddaughters, or perhaps even great-granddaughters, but they would only be a few generations removed at most. I don’t think even Queen Chrysalis would ignore her mother, no matter how old she might be.”

Red Wings hummed. “You know, it feels weird to me when I realise that I’m actually the one who has had the most amount of contact in the past with a changeling Queen. Ah, sorry, I’m going off on a tangent. Well, no, I guess it is relevant. Even though I’ve met Chrysalis a few times, and changelings many more, I can’t even begin to guess at what the play is between all of them.”

Noire grit her teeth. “I don’t really know much either. Father never really said.”

“Well, it is good that we discussed it,” Iceheart said, drawing the conversation back towards her initial set of questions. Noire marveled at how Iceheart always seemed the most level-headed of the group. The batpony was glad the other mare had joined them after that fateful day on the hinterlands of the North. “At the least, we should be able to trot into the Colt Springs hive with some idea of what to expect, which is better than what I had earlier.”

Noire conceded the point. “Yes. I do not think it will be too much. Queen Chrysalis would not have recommended we come here if we were going to be ensnared and kept in the hive. We’re only asking for information. Besides, between Trixie and Windspeaker’s abilities, I am certain we could break out if the worst were to happen.”

There was a general chorus of agreements at that.

Trixie bit her tongue at Noire’s words. Initially, Trixie and Noire were to come to Colt Springs to ask the Empress for information on pony-changeling hybrid offspring. However, in the last few weeks, Trixie realised there was something else she wanted to ask the Empress, something that only she might know. The question was still a secret Trixie kept close to her heart. She did not lack courage to risk erasure of her life and magic when healing Windspeaker, yet Trixie was unable to even confide in her friends the new goal she had. Would she ever be able to ask the Empress when Trixie could not even trust her friends with her new ambition?

“Greetings to all of you.”

Sunflower had just returned, bringing a stallion in tow.

Red Wings looked over the new unicorn with a sharp eye. From head to hoof, the newcomer was quintessentially a pony, with yellow fur not unlike the flaxen colour of a field of wheat in full bloom, and a mane and tail with dichromatic stripes of a darker gold and muddy brown. However, Red Wings had spent a great deal of time in a place where changelings pretended to be ponies, and he was able to notice the little things. The unicorn stood too tall and stout for such a relaxed place as Colt Springs, and his blue eyes were far too focused on Trixie. Anypony who was truly a pony here would be slouching, and acting in a far more casual manner.

There was no doubt to Red Wings. This stallion was a changeling.

“Hello,” Red Wings greeted back, feigning a friendly manner. However, both of them knew what Red Wings’ true feelings were: a sharp spike of suspicion. “I’m Red Wings. How do you do?”

“You may call me Larynx. I am the Voice of the Empress.”

The other ponies, who had eyed the flaxen-coated pony with interest but had kept talking to the mayor, finally turned to face the changeling who called himself Larynx. The capital V in the title he had just dropped was obvious. This was an important changeling in the Colt Springs hive.

“Are you here to take us to the hive, then?” Iceheart questioned him.

“I am.”

Curt and to the point, Red Wings thought. Larynx was a changeling unto a changeling. He asked, “I have been to the Badlands Hive before. When I went there, I was always drugged beforehoof and taken to the Hive so I would not know where it is located. Are we to do the same here?”

“No. I will guide you.”

Red’s nose twitched with slight annoyance, but he kept calm. “In that case, is there any other protocol we should be aware of before meeting the Empress?”

“Do not attack or otherwise harm the Empress. You will be treated as guests of the Hive, but if any of you should attempt to harm the Empress, that privilege will be revoked.”

Red Wings pursed his lips. “I have no issue, then.” Attacking her? Why would we even do that? Well, he couldn’t blame Larynx for thinking it a possibility. Even a few years later, there were still sore feelings from many ponies against the changelings, no matter that they had not reappeared en masse since.

“I have no issue, either,” Stonehenge intoned. The others echoed the sentiment.

“Very well. Follow me, then.”

With that short statement, Larynx turned, and left the office. Red Wings and Trixie found themselves marching in lockstep side by side, and Red Wings felt himself heat up a little at the close contact to the unicorn, before forcing it down. It was dangerous, crushing on a mare who could tell his feelings to some extent with her own empathic senses inherited from her father. However, in front of what was likely a changeling, and going into a changeling hive, Red Wings needed to stay as calm and composed as he could. Idly, he noted that the mayor and Sunflower stayed behind in the office. It made sense to him: where they were going was somewhere ponies wouldn’t just casually visit.

Instead of going outside, to the ponies’ surprise, Larynx instead went through another door in the manor, taking them through a hallway. He repeated the action through a few more doors, the exquisite architectural tastes of the manor getting less lavish as they got further away from the front entrance, until they finally went down a set of stairs.

There was no knob to the door, nor even a keyhole. Instead, Larynx bowed his head to the door. With a quick burst of magic, he hissed, “Open.”

Windspeaker jumped a bit at Larynx’ hiss. He had found the potential changeling’s manner unnerving, but after hearing his monotone voice for so long, the hiss was surprising. His surprise was abated by the door opening. Ah. Some sort of mechanism to stop intruders from getting in without the right magical signature, then.

However, to all of their surprise, what laid behind the wall was not another hallway, but a cavern. It was then that Windspeaker finally deduced the truth of this manor being the mayor’s office. It’s not that the mayor lives here by happenstance. This manor is the entrance to the hive itself!

The stallion bit his tongue in apprehension. If the entrance was that easy to locate, however, there had to be something more to it. Still, as Larynx walked through the door, giving no indication of stopping or waiting for the ponies to get over their surprise, Windspeaker decided to give pursuit. After all, Red Wings and Trixie had not slowed down ahead of them, and with his own still weak body, he could not afford to lose a single moment.

As he stepped past the door, Windspeaker instantly felt the climate change considerably, going from the cool air of the manor basement to a warmer, more damp environment. He gave a quick glance down the tunnel, pausing for a moment. Bioluminescent moss coated the passage, giving it an eery green glow. He cursed to himself as he looked down at the ground, seeing the many rocks. Windspeaker would have to be careful about where he walked, not wishing to risk injury to his atrophied form.

The group of six quickly walked through the entrance caverns, following the flaxen-coated pony. However, it didn’t take long for them to catch on to the hive’s defense mechanism against an invasion. Past the obscurity of the hive’s location, and its operational security, the way to the hive itself was a labyrinth. Larynx came to a three-way split in the path after about a minute, and didn’t hesitate to take the right path. Trixie, Stonehenge, Red Wings, Iceheart, Noire and Windspeaker, having no other choice, followed the Voice of the Empress down the right-hoof path.

Larynx himself seemed hesitant to change back to his true form, even after a few minutes in the winding passageway. For a few seconds, Trixie wondered if he was perhaps truly a pony instead, before she dismissed the notion. Even if he were perhaps a hybrid instead, Queens were too proud. They would never have a pony as their voice or right hoof.

Sure enough, after going past enough forks in the labyrinth that Trixie was certain she would not be able to ge back to the manor or find the hive in the first place, Larynx was suddenly engulfed in a green flame, and a black carapace replaced the straw-like coat. To Trixie’s surprise, the changeling had a mane, flaxen-coloured like his pony form had been. Very few changelings other than Queens had manes that were more than bits of stubble. For Larynx to have one meant he was a figure of importance, power, or both.

He did say he was the ‘Voice’ of the Empress, Trixie mused.

There was no sudden outburst of surprise. Everypony had expected Larynx to be a changeling, so his transformation was just the final proof. Instead, the seven equines continued to walk through many more twists and turns, leaving Trixie to muse whether this had truly been a hive built by the changelings, or if it had instead been a home of a herd of minotaurs first. Minotaurs were notorious for their love of mazes, after all, and the labyrinthine design of the Colt Springs hive would have suited the minotaur sense perfectly.

Suddenly, Larynx stopped.

Trixie took a few steps before she had the wherewithal to brake and not move another hoof forward. “Are we here?,” she asked, mustering up the energy to ask. Trixie wasn’t quiet out of breath yet, but she was glad for the stop.

“Not yet. Your companion needs rest.”

The unicorn mare knew which pony Larynx was talking about. Looking over to Windspeaker, Trixie was unsurprised to see Iceheart dabbing away at his forehead, wiping away a spot of sweat.

“Are you alright?,” Iceheart asked the stallion gently.

Windspeaker nodded, though he kept his eyes closed to stop the sweat from getting in his eyes. “Yes, I am. I just need to take a few minutes breather, thank you for asking, Iceheart. I am not used to the dampness and heat or even the exercise. At least if I were outside, the cool breeze would feel good on my coat.” Left unspoken was the fact that outdoors, Windspeaker alone could control the wind. Though the ponies knew that for a fact, Larynx did not. Windspeaker felt somewhat crippled. Though the wind could still be utilised down here, it was nowhere near as powerful as it was outdoors.

Larynx gave no indication of understanding the subtext of the conversation between Icehart and Windspeaker, nor did he attempt to make any small talk with the other four while they stretched and sat down to get a few minutes rest. Instead, his blue eyes continued to watch, never moving, only blinking. After several minutes had passed, he finally turned around and continued to walk.

“Let us continue.”

The ponies ambled on behind Larynx again, a little feeling of despair settling in. Though none of them thought they were walking into a trap, they were ponies. They were used to being outside, with a desire for the open meadow and the warm, welcoming sun. Being so far underground, especially in such narrow confines, was uncomfortable for them. At least for the four who had been to the Badlands Hive, the tunnels there had been wider, with many large, open rooms that had more natural lighting than the moss.

Instead, Trixie found herself focusing on minute, trivial things to distract from her boredom. She looked at the hoof outlines left in the dirt of the path by changelings past, strained her ears for the light ‘ploop!’ of water dripping off the roofs, and let her mind wander. Trixie thought about the day she had put on the Alicorn Amulet, when her life had gone even more downhill than it had at that point. To her surprise, Trixie realised it had been nearly four years since that fateful night. Where has the time gone?, she wondered.

“We are here.”

Startled, Trixie looked up. A medium-sized door greeted her sight, embedded into the heavy stone wall. The metal door looked positively ancient, half-rusted as if it was about to fall apart at any moment. Do they not get any visitors around here? I would not have expected them to keep something as corroded as this is for the Empress.

“Is there anything else, then? Or do we just go in?,” Stonehenge inquired.

The changeling ignored Stonehenge. Instead, Larynx cast magic again, opening the door. With a whine and a squeal on the hinges that caused the ponies to jump before putting their hooves over their ears, the two halves of the doors swung inward.

It revealed a moderately large chamber well-lit with torches of green flames. Compared to the irregular walkways in the caverns, the floor in here was smoothed out, with tiles built in for the first flat surface the ponies had seen in some time. There was little for decoration, with a single carpet rolling down the middle of the room. Twelve changelings stood guard around the carpet, six on either side in rigid formation. With the opening of the door, all twelve had turned to face them, observing the ponies with stone-faced gazes.

Trixie raised her eyes. There was a dais at the end of the carpet, and a single throne sat upon the dais. She squinted. The figure on the throne was obscure even in the better lighting of what might have been the throne room. Is that the Empress? Trixie’s heart beat faster as she realised she was potentially mere seconds away from meeting a changeling she had once thought to be a fairy tale.

Larynx moved ahead. The ponies followed behind him, before the flaxen-maned changeling suddenly turned around, stopping them only as soon as they had stepped onto the carpet.

“Do not walk any further. Stay here, and only come forward when I say so. I am the Voice of the Empress. For now, she will talk through me and me alone. Only if you are given permission may you be allowed to speak directly with her.”

The changeling’s blue eyes were ever more piercing than before, and for once Trixie thought she was able to see a hint of emotion in them, to feel something more than muted deadness in Larynx. Protectiveness, with just a bit of fondness, the mare decided. It wasn’t an odd thing if he was the Empress’ ‘Voice’. Still, his implied threat wasn’t one to take lightly, not that Trixie had any intent of challenging Larynx. The twelve changeling guards that stood behind him, each looking ready to fight at a moment’s notice, only helped to reinforce it.

Larynx turned around, and walked up to the dais. He stopped short of the stairs leading onto the dais, and fell onto three knees, keeping his left front limb up.

“Mother."

The figure didn’t move.

“Mother.”

Larynx repeated himself, a little louder this time.

This time, the figure stirred. Trixie raised her eyebrows in confusion. As the Empress shuffled, Trixie was able to see her colouration. Oddly, instead of being the pure jet-black with a coloured mane all Queens Trixie knew of had, the Empress seemed to be black-and-grey, and even the black parts lacked the normal shine of a changeling’s carapace.

“Mother.”

Larynx was once more slightly louder.

“Mmph. Is, is that you, Larynx?”

“It is I.”

“What business do you have today? Is it time for feeding again?”

“I have brought six ponies today who wished to see you. Two of them are half-breeds.”

“Mmph.”

The figure on the throne suddenly moved again, but it was not a quick motion. Instead, the Empress slowly readjusted her throne, turning around to face Larynx. Sluggishly, the Empress raised her head, such so that the ponies could finally see her face for the first time.

Trixie gasped as at last the oddities in the revelations Windspeaker had made about the Empress not leaving the hive in ages were explained, or the fact that there was a separate Queen in this Hive, the clues all coming together too easily. The Empress didn’t have a unique colouration of her carapace. Instead, like what happened to some of the truly oldest ponies, her carapace was beginning to lose its colour, with splotches of grey all over the place and cracks galore. The same was true for what must have once been a mane as rich with colour as Larynx’ was, now nearly pure white with only little bits of straw. Even the Empress’ eyes were abnormal, with one blue eye, and one a milky white.

Celestia and Luna had lived through the era of the Windigos and continued ruling. Like them, the Empress had lived through the era. However, unlike the two alicorn princesses, the Empress had grown old.

Author's Note

I've loved being able to sprinkle hints in here and there throughout the story about the group's trip to Colt Springs, and here it is.

From the little hints I placed in the story thus far, how many of you expected the Empress to be a badass warrior queen who could wipe out armies with her bare hooves, given she survived the Windigos? For those of you thinking she was going to be along those lines, the reality must have been a bit of a whiplash, the same as with Windspeaker after his end-chapter appearance at the end of the first chapter of The Living Wind.

But then, when have I played this story straight?

Empress: Reflections

“Mmm...what did you say again they were, Larynx?”

The Empress spoke in a halting manner, her voice cracking up every few words. One eye looked at the ponies, but the other eye was lost, blinded perhaps only the Empress herself knew how long ago. She did not even attempt to move from her sitting position, her wizened form so frail the Empress perhaps could not even do that.

“Two of them are half-breeds, Mother.”

“...I cannot see very well, but there appear to be more than two of them.”

“One of them is a Crystal Pony who was imprisoned with the rest of the Crystal Empire. She claims to have been on the front lines of guarding the Empire against the Windigos.”

There was a sudden hiss from the Empress, before she started coughing. It was the loudest noise the ponies had heard from the Empress thus far, as she continued coughing and hacking so far that many of them legitimately feared she would perish that moment. Fortunately, the moment passed, and the Empress softly growled as she at least stood up, just a little bit. “Windigos. The day they vanished from this world was the greatest day of my life.”

“Mother, please.”

The sudden fire that had inflated the Empress was extinguished, and the changeling crone slumped forward in her seat. “If she is, I am thrilled to receive her into the hive. Any who fought the Windigos will always find kindred heart here.”

Trixie furrowed her eyebrows. The Empress’ manner of speech was odd and difficult to keep up with. Even Iceheart already spoke close to the common vernacular of the day, and she had not lived through the thousand years between like the Empress had.

“Then there are three others, stallions all. I believe they are merely friends, perhaps mates, to the three of interest here.”

“Mmm.”

Then the Empress lifted her head up again. She looked over the six ponies that were assembled at the end of the chamber. Trixie was uncertain if she could even see that far with any accuracy, but the Empress, aged as she was, was still a changeling: doubtless she could feel six distinct separate life forms.

“Larynx, bring the half-breeds forward.”

“Of course, Mother.”

The male changeling turned around, tossing his windswept mane back behind his back, before making the several steps to return to where the sextet had stopped at. He looked at Trixie and Noire.

“Mother wishes to see you two.”

Noire’s nose twitched. Larynx’ was merely stating the obvious, but they had to go through this ceremony and pomp of him restating what they had just heard the Empress say.

Nevertheless, Trixie and Noire pursued Larynx at a measured canter down the carpet, feeling the menacing gazes of the changeling guards who simultaneously kept an eye on both the two mares and the remaining four ponies stationed at the entrance to the throne room. The dozen guards had spoken naught a single word between them since the ponies had entered, but their intentions were easy to measure.

Larynx brought them just shy of the dais, before stopping, and bowing.

“Mother, I have returned.”

“So I see. I shall speak directly,” said the Empress.

Those seemed to be the words for Larynx to be dismissed, as he rose up, and walked aside, joining the twelve guardlings. In so doing, he left Trixie and Noire exposed to the view of the Empress.

The Empress tilted her head up slightly, her one blue eye looking forward, while her other, milky-white eye gazed off into the distance. Trixie lightly bit her lip, feeling a little unnerved by the near glow of the Empress’ eye, so unlike any changeling or pony or any other species she had ever met before.

“Your fathers were changelings, then,” the Empress said in a soft voice. “Where were they from?” It was the longest the Empress had spoken without descending into a stream of coughs.

For the first time, Trixie spoke directly to the Empress. “Her father and mine both came from Queen Chrysalis’ hive in the southern Badlands. We were not actually raised there ourselves, but we recently visited it. When we inquired about what it meant for us to be hybrids, Queen Chrysalis recommended we come here instead.”

“Chrysalis, ah, that foolish daughter of mine…” The Empress trailed off. Her words were harsh, but the fondness for one of her daughter Queens was clear. Her lone good eye looked over both Trixie and Noire again. “A unicorn and a bat-pegasus, interesting. You have taken to attempting magic of the other tribes…?”

It wasn’t just the Empress’ manner of speech that was difficult for Trixie to follow. It was also the halting way in which she delivered it, with many pauses, interspersed between multiple coughs. It took Trixie several moments to digest what was being said. In that time, Noire spoke first. “Yes. Although I have rarely attempted what my Earth pony cousins can do, I have used a few spells. Nothing advanced, only simple things like a warming spell. But I would like to know and use more, and be able to emulate the Earth ponies aside.”

“Hmm…” The Empress paused again. “And I imagine it is the same for the mare beside you.”

“It is,” Trixie confided. “In the past, as I walked the land, I enjoyed the abilities of pegasus magic to help protect me against the weather extremes, and the way the Earth ponies can feel the vitality of the land underneath their hooves. We came here to understand more about our own abilities and how we can extend them.”

And in her heart of hearts, Trixie had another unexpressed wish. She wanted to know how to use Earth Pony and Pegasus magic, because she desired to evolve into a form that could use all three tribal powers with ease. But here and now, after even being unable to explain it to her friends, there was no way Trixie could tell the Empress that.

The Empress remained silent after Trixie’s comments, and her eyes fell closed, revealing still more scars over her decrepit form. The Empress’ body told of many days of strife. Minutes passed, and the Empress did not move, her form still. Trixie had a sudden worry as before that the Empress had just perished, but the slight movement of the old crone’s chest told otherwise.

Then she spoke again. “Hmm...both of you feel troubled, but you, the blue one...you seem more worried and uneasy than your companion. Why?”

Trixie felt her mouth turn dry as the ancestral changeling focused on her. She dared not lie to the mare before her, so Trixie fumbled for a half-truth. “I was not the one who initially pushed to come here, but...throughout my lifetime, I have had some talent with my magic in creating illusions as well. I also wondered if it was because of my father being a changeling that I had that gift. Not to shapeshift, but something along those lines.”

“Hmm...I suppose one wishes to know what makes her whole, what is her own, and what is her parents. Yes. The two of you are half-breeds. I can sense it, that subtle empathic overlap that all half-breeds have.”

“Er?” Noire made to ask a question, only to cut herself off.

Fortunately, the Empress seemed all too happy to explain, as slow and halting as it was. Still, Trixie had to strain to hear her at times. “Changelings can feel one another to a degree, but we cannot feel ponies. Yes, we feel the emotions of ponies, but we are not truly ‘in sync’ with them. You half-breeds are not changelings, but you exist just at the edge of my senses.”

Trixie and Noire were uncertain if they were to answer that.

“Well...I know what there is to know about you half-breeds, yes. However, before that...you, the blue one.”

“Yes?,” Trixie asked, a little nervous at being singled out once more.

“Have you ever used dark magic?”

Trixie recoiled at the unexpected question.

However, it wasn’t one she could dodge, either. “Yes. When I was younger, more foolish, and in a bad place...I went and purchased a dark magical artifact. I thought I knew what I was getting myself into when I put it on, but I didn’t,” Trixie said, swallowing down a large lump in her throat. “My actions weren’t my own at the time, but I won’t absolve myself of the guilt of seeking it out in the first place. I am just fortunate that I was saved before I fell too far.”

The Empress sat up.

It wasn’t a very large motion. The old changeling was barely able to sit up, but up she went, moving her head up several centimetres. Rasping with every breath, Trixie was reminded of a filly when she felt uncomfortable upon talking to very old ponies with wrinkly skin, cataracts and the like. The Empress was the only truly old changeling Trixie had ever seen, and the splotchy grey that predominated here carapace made her seem creepy. Trixie knew she was merely old, but it was hard to shut down that filly impulse.

“I see,” said the Empress. "I thought I could feel...a strange, taint, on you." She exhaled, and closed her eyes again. A few minutes passed, and Trixie felt her impatience growing at the Empress’ long lulls in conversation. Fortunately, the Empress soon spoke once more, though she kept her eyes closed. “There is...a place, where all changelings who wish to become Queens must first go.”

“Mother?”

It was the first time that Trixie could remember Larynx speaking up out of turn.

“It is...a sacred place, for us changelings. Perhaps so sacred that many of my daughters would feel faint at the idea of a pony going down there.”

“Mother, you don’t mean? But the Queens would never—”

“Pah, let them!,” said the Empress, remarkably not descending into a heaving fit again. “I am the one who found it and started making them use it. Let me be the only changeling alive to say that just this once, a pony will be allowed in. They have already come all this way, what is one more step?”

Larynx, suitably chastened by the Empress’ outburst, walked back onto the carpet, standing in between the Empress and the two mares. Facing the Empress, he once more bowed.

“Shall I escort her, then?”

“Of course. Do not worry about me, my Voice,” said the Empress, looking over Noire and the four ponies further back. “I sense no ill will from these ponies. Perhaps while she is gone, I would speak with the Crystal pony.”

Iceheart strode in front of the three stallions around her, presenting herself serenely. She sensed she had an odd conversation ahead of her.

“Very well.”

Larynx turned around to face Trixie. With his hoof, he made a come hither motion.

“Come with me, pony mare.”

Trixie found herself a little annoyed at how Larynx continued to refer to her by her species or her gender. She realised he had not even inquired their names since he had first appeared upstairs in the mayor’s manor. Still, Trixie supposed the changeling didn’t care for names. Larynx was very aloof, after all.

She hopscotched after the flaxen-maned stallion changeling as he took her behind the Empress’ dais, feeling the continuously stony glares of the changeling guards behind her. To Trixie’s surprise, there was a single door at the back of the room, which Larynx swiftly opened with magic. Walking in behind Larynx, she saw that the hallway she had just entered was made with bricks of sandstone, a sharp contrast to the untreated tunnels before her. Instead of green-glowing moss, there were actual torches up on the walls, everlasting torches that would never go out so long as there was magic to keep them lit.

The two walked for a few minutes without words, leaving Trixie to wonder just how long the cave system underneath and behind Colt Springs went. The brief thought about this being a former minotaur labyrinth once more flitted through her mind, before Trixie decided the changelings must have done a lot of work over the years. She had not even seen the Hive proper, where all the changelings and the governing queen were, but merely a small subsection that appeared to be the Empress’ home since she retired. Already, the amount of work that would have been required to do all this digging was mind-boggling.

Suddenly, Larynx stopped, and Trixie stopped behind him. Looking ahead of her, Trixie could see that the sandstone walls and floor gave way to raw stone again. Larynx turned around, and looked back.

“This is a sacred site among changelings, pony. Every changeling Queen must visit it once in her lifetime to cleanse herself in a ritual. Feel honoured that the Empress is willing to let you in. Do not abuse her trust. When you are finished, return.”

Larynx’ blue eyes were as piercing as always, but for once, they had a little bit of emotion to them. What it was, Trixie could not tell. The changeling walked past her, limbs astride, before he started heading back in the direction of the throne room.

In so doing, Trixie was left all alone. Looking at the tunnel before her, Trixie swallowed.

Trixie took a step forward.

The tunnel system that had seemed merely narrow before was terrifying now that Trixie was on her own, instead of with her friends. The glow of the green moss seemed just that less inviting now. Instead, the dim lighting was more oppressive than ever before. The silence of the tunnel was unnerving. This far down, in this area that was supposedly sacred to the changeling race, Trixie was uncertain if even Windspeaker could hear her through the Living Wind.

Despite this, Trixie took her step, and then another. To win, she first needed to dare. Trixie had dared a lot in the last few months, and that daring had brought her all the way from her home in Whinnychester to the hive of the Empress at the other end of the continent. She was an adult mare. Though she might still scare, Trixie was quite capable of overcoming her childish fears.

Journeying on her lonesome, Trixie noted a few oddities. Unlike the previous tunnel that Larynx had taken them through, this was just a single, straightforward path. The hoofpath was smoother and more treaded, as if somepony had taken care to flatten the road out. The tunnel seemed to constantly be going down and down, and the temperature continued to increase. It was a dark world, and Trixie was left with nothing but her thoughts.

Not for the first time, Trixie wondered about the twists that her life had taken. If her upbringing and adult life were to be made a story, Trixie would have called it unrealistic. Being born the filly of a pony and a changeling, having to forcibly exit her schooling in Canterlot out of paranoid fear, going on to tour the world as a showmare until inevitably losing her career, working on a rock farm, and then slipping a dark magic artifact around her neck already was stretching it. Since Trixie broke her self-enforced hermitage in Whinnychester, however, things had gotten even weirder.

That’s right, none of us are really normal, are we? Trixie thought. Red Wings was the closest to being a regular pony, as freak accidents of that ilk did occasionally occur. However, he had taken to being a guide through the Badlands to link up interested ponies with a changeling hive. From there, it got to more and more unusual; Iceheart, the northern commander frozen in time; Stonehenge, a pony petrified by a cockatrice king for many decades; Noire, another offspring of changeling and pony; and Windspeaker, a magically-weak unicorn who nevertheless was connected to the essence of the world.

Trixie wondered if there had been some element of ‘destiny’ in play there. She remembered those words she had spoken back to Red Wings in the hive. Trixie would hate the idea of destiny if it existed, because it would mean she had been destined to lose her career and be self-exiled for two years from the rest of Equestria, feeling itchy hooves over her unfulfilled wanderlust.

The mare supposed she would only approve of destiny if it was brought her together with her five amazing friends. That was not something she would trade for the world, not even for the career that had offered her the capacity to travel so many places, and see so many sights.

Gradually, the tunnel began to widen, expanding in its diameter. Trixie swore she began to see something other than still more luminescent green moss and stone, and hear something other than her four hooves constantly trodding on the path underneath. It took her a few minutes to dismiss it as being a mere trick of her mind, as she suddenly did see light at the end of the literal tunnel. Remaining graceful, Trixie walked forward, allowing her eyes to adjust to the increasing intensity of light.

At last, Trixie got to the mouth of the cave, and let out a gasp at what awaited her. A large cavern sat beneath her. Water gushed from a far-off waterfall that must have been fed by an underground waterway, etching a tiny stream that terminated at the centre of the bottom of the chamber, creating a pool perhaps thirty hoof-steps across. The room was lit by an ethereal magical source that could not be seen, casting the area in natural lighting instead of the green Trixie had gotten used to coming down. Flowers of every shade of the colour spectrum dotted the ground. Despite how far underneath the earth Trixie thought she must be right now, there was still the softest hint of a breeze, though the mare attributed it to standing next to the tunnel, rather than the actual Living Wind being down here.

There was no doubt about it. This was an area where a mysterious magical had welled up, creating some sort of magic sink.

Was this why the Empress settled here? Was it because she discovered this chamber that she decided to settle in Colt Springs? It was a tantalising thought. The Empress had said every changeling who desired to become a Queen would have to make a journey down here first. There was something about this cave that marked it as the centrepiece of a changeling ritual, and Trixie felt certain she was the first pony to ever lay eyes upon it.

Trixie supposed she should have felt honoured. However, the Empress had not said anything about this cave other than it being a required pilgrimage for Queens-to-be. As the first pilgrimare here, Trixie could not help feeling uneasy instead with the lack of foreknowledge about this place.

“Well, Trixie, you should stop thinking,” Trixie said to herself, for once using the third-pony without actually talking to somepony else. “You aren’t going to find out the secrets of this place by standing here.” It was tough to break away, though. Mere hours ago, she had been on the surface, taking in the warm sunshine and saline breeze. After many hours of walking through tunnels, an ephemeral beauty such as this was precisely what Trixie needed.

With a reluctant last look, Trixie walked down a curved slope that went down from the exit from the tunnel, taking her down to the bottom of the chamber, perhaps fifteen pony-lengths down. The path she had to follow was clearly marked once she got to the ground: there was a straight path of earth where no flowers grew, making it obvious where Trixie had to go. Walking through the barren patches, Trixie found herself at the pool of water.

“How odd. What is this place?” Trixie asked aloud. There was a hint of a memory from many years ago about a pool of water, but the memory was vague, as if it was from a cloudy time of her life.

She peered over the surface of the pond. The water was clear enough that she could see the sand underneath, though as she looked further ahead, the depth of the water got enough that she could only see the bed bottom a few hoof-steps out. Instead, Trixie took to looking at her reflection.

“Hey, you,” Trixie said to her other self, feeling amused. “A few years ago, I might have praised how good-looking and sexy you are. I suppose I was more than a little narcissistic back then. At least that’s one of my qualities that I don’t regret losing.” Then she took a more serious look at herself.

Is this what I really look like? Though she had not realised it before, Trixie now understood with a sudden shock that she was slowly becoming detached from her self-identity. An azure-coated mare with a mane of blue only a few tints off of shock-white looked back at her. Violet eyes stared back lazily, as if the pony had little care in the world at this moment. Trixie supposed there was some truth to that. In between all the times that she had furthered her understanding of the phantasmal magic of illusions, Trixie had had to dissociate her very being from her identity as a pony, as a mare, as a unicorn, as a braggart who had fallen from grace only to paw her way back up. Every time Trixie invoked the magic that could change the world, she had had to lose herself. Even if it was only temporary, it had left an effect on her that only now Trixie was seeing.

Perhaps this is what I need, the time to relax and self-reflect? I have not had much of that on the road. My friends are dear to me, but I have not had a single moment alone. Trixie giggled at the thought, thinking especially about Red Wings and his obvious crush that she had returned at a few moments. It was a hearty laugh, a girlish giggle. It was a noise Trixie could not remember when she had last made. It felt good.

Curious, Trixie put one hoof forward, and dipped it into the pool. The water was cool to the touch, but there seemed to be nothing about it. The ripples from her hoof spread outward, distorting her image in an amusing way. Trixie felt as if she was at peace here.

“Huh?” Trixie frowned. Oddly, even though the pool had stopped rippling, her image still seemed distorted.

Suddenly, the Trixie in the pool water looked directly back up at her.

Trixie yelped, and fell backwards onto her dock. Her nose twitched in the instant of pain, but she gasped as she looked forward to the pool again. A figure was coming out of the water. Within a few moments, it was obvious what the figure was. It was Trixie herself.

“Hello, Trixie,” said the other Trixie. “Do you know who I am?”

Trixie scampered onto her hooves with a jolt as she finally remembered why the pool of water had seemed to tickle a memory in her. Four years ago, when she had gone to Ponyville with delusion aspirations to banishing that mare from the town forever and ever, Trixie had overheard some of the ponies talking in their downtime. Before Trixie had taken over Ponyville, there had been another incident a mere few weeks ago, where that annoying pink pony had found a mysterious pool that created dozens of magical clones of her that went on a rampage. It was no wonder Trixie had not remembered until now: her entire time wearing the Alicorn Amulet was still under a heavy fog.

“You’re me,” Trixie whispered. “Or at least, a clone of me.” She wished she had looked into the ‘Mirror Pool’ occurrence rather than being content with hearsay. Trixie knew nothing other than the surface details.

“Well, at least you have that right. I wonder if you will continue to believe that soon, however.”

Trixie had nothing to say to that assessment. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out what this pool was truly used for if each changeling Queen had to visit it before taking the title.

“I see you’re quiet. No doubt you’re already trying to think things through. Tell me, whatever happened to the Trixie of old, the brash Trixie, the fiery one, the one who took on all challengers to prove the neigh-sayers wrong?”

“Wh—what are you trying to get at?” Trixie asked, genuinely befuddled. She had been expecting her clone to be a single-dimensional copy of herself fixated on a single thing, much like how the pink pony’s clones had all been obsessed with the concept of fun. What Trixie had not expected was for her clone to ask her a question.

“You disappoint me, Trixie. It used to be you would have a snappy one-liner to return to any pony who dared say something like that to you. Maybe you have lost some of your vim over the years?”

Trixie growled. She had been expecting one thing, only for something else to happen. However, she wasn’t even given a chance to think things over, as her clone continued to talk.

“Or maybe you’ve simply become docile? Red Wings is a healthy pegasus, after all. Maybe if the Empress gives you what you want, you’ll return to Whinnychester, or maybe settle somewhere else. Become a simply housemare, and birth him a few foals. I’m sure you could spend the rest of your days in domestic bliss, basking in husbandly affection and filial fawning. It wouldn’t be a bad denouement to your life, but certainly nothing that could be associated with ‘The Great and Powerful Trixie’.” The other Trixie’s tone had suddenly become nasty, and she punctuated her last remark with a sneer.

Trixie found herself slackjawed.

“Do you know who I am, now, Bellatrix Midsummer, Bella, Trixie Lulamoon, or whatever other name you care to go by?,” asked the other mare.

She did.

“You’re me,” Trixie answered, this time more hesitantly. “But not quite, you’re, somehow, you’re me that went wrong. You’re all the deeper, darker parts of me. The insecurities I still have, the tempting thoughts that could lead me astray, the shadows of my mind.”

The other Trixie, the alternate Trixie, laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant laugh, but neither was it malicious. It was just mean. The alternate Trixie, and Trixie mentally labeled her Altrix in her mind, reared up on her hind hooves to kick her front out in a nasty chortle before coming back down. “The shadows of your mind? Oh, you’re so precious, Trixie. You’re not wrong, but coming up with such poetic bunk is far beneath you. Where is the mare who was a performer, a storyteller, and a magician all in one?”

“I never disappeared,” Trixie said, weakly defending herself. Of the things she had expected walking down here, Trixie had never expected to have to face a verbal barrage from herself.

Altrix sneered again. “Mere words which you use to comfort yourself. How is it that even now, when you have come all this way, you still act so feebly? The old Trixie would have lashed out when she felt attacked.”

“Well, I don’t fight back against bullies who try to hurt me with words, anymore,” Trixie responded, working herself back up into a position of strength. “Even if that bully is myself.”

“Twilight Sparkle.”

Trixie flinched.

“Twilight Sparkle, Twilight Sparkle, Twilight Sparkle, Twilight Sparkle,” the alternate Trixie, Altrix repeated. Altrix suddenly pushed forward from her position in front of the water, and found room and then some to advance as Trixie backed away, before she cackled. “Oh, how rich! You can’t even tolerate hearing her name spoken out loud! How pathetic!”

“No I’m not!” Trixie said, defending herself even as she felt the bitter taste of the lie on tongue.

“Oh, please. Lying to me won’t work. I am you, after all! I know everything about you, Trixie,” said Altrix, malice coating her words. “I know how even now you dream about becoming an alicorn.”

Trixie jumped. Altrix had just verbally stated an ambition that Trixie had not allowed herself to more than merely think, and never at the surface, but only within her heart of hearts.

Altrix sneered. “As if that would ever happen. You think you’ve gotten strong, travelling around the world and using magic? I know what lurks underneath the surface. Deep down, you’re still a little filly, scared you’re playing with fireworks instead of firecrackers, that the next move you make might blow off a hoof. That this whole affair will end in nothing more than hurt and pain, and that you’ll need to retreat to Whinnychester, and this time never leave again.”

Trixie clenched her teeth. She made to rebut, but felt her throat clench. The feeling was enough to send her down onto one knee.

“But this isn’t the first time you’ve dreamed about grasping at the power of the alicorns, is it, Trixie?” Altrix’ cruel words suddenly dropped into a whisper. “No, that’s why you went searching for the Alicorn Amulet. You dreamed of becoming as strong as an alicorn, and damned be anypony who stood in the way.” Instead of harsh stings, the mirror pool clone’s words had now become barbs, expertly placed to cut deep and be impossible to tear loose without leaving deep gouges in Trixie’s soul. “Twilight Sparkle is an alicorn, a pony who has the ability to commune with the earth, channel the ether through a horn, and soar upon the currents of the wind. To become an alicorn would be to stand level with her, wing to wing. Yet you cannot even say her name.”

Trixie fell onto the ground. Her doppelganger’s words were cruel. They were also true.

“Tw—...Tw—...Twi—” Trixie attempted to speak the two words that she had not even been able to think, but her mouth was unable to form them.

Altrix laughed again. “Oh, how pathetic. You once thought yourself equal with Twilight Sparkle, only for her to become an alicorn, and a princess besides. To think, you have pioneered the arts of illusions to a level that shouldn’t be possible, yet still you cannot speak those two measly words. You truly are pathetic. Tell me, Trixie, do you know who I am now?”

Trixie looked up from the ground, so soft and inviting. She wished she were a Diamond Dog now, so she could dig and burrow herself deep in the earth, escaping this clone of hers. Instead, Trixie felt her eyes burning with hot tears. Now she at last understood why each changeling Queen had to come down here before wearing a crown. “You…”

“I’m you, that much is true. I am your reflection, Trixie, one who is meant to shine all your worst flaws back at you. You cannot escape with a simple magic trick here. What is an illusion? Something that fools, deceives, tricks. You can trick others, but you can’t trick yourself!”

They were mere words. Altrix had not done one single thing to threaten physical harm except for walking towards Trixie earlier, and even that had not been to intimidate, but to prove Trixie wrong. Trixie had gone into this mess unprepared, but what was more, Altrix was correct. Trixie had to be unprepared for this. Had she known about this pool and the reflection of herself that would appear, Trixie would have already been mentally creating barriers to protect against the verbal onslaught of her doppelganger.

“You’re...cruel,” was all Trixie could muster, bowing her head.

“Am I truly, Trixie?,” asked Altrix, and Trixie was unsure if it was meant to be rhetorical. “You aspire to sit upon a mantle on which goddesses stand, on a foolish belief that your illusions will take you that far. Even if perhaps the power of your new magic was something that could allow you to ascend, you would be set upon by new challenges, and new tasks. When threats start to come to you, instead of you wandering around and finding more ponies with sob stories that you try to heal, will you be able to handle it the way you are, as a broken mare? Or will you crumple to the ground, just the way you are, all because you were unwilling to face yourself?”

Trixie raised her head again, looking up at her clone standing above her. For the first time, Altrix had given her encouraging words. She isn’t here to hurt me. She’s here to help me heal, Trixie realised. The Empress had known what she was doing when she had sent Trixie to come down here.

“I...I’ve had many setbacks, in my life,” Trixie admitted.

“Face your fears, then, Trixie. Face yourself,” Altrix encouraged.

“My—my mother. She was the brightest star in my life. She was my everything,” said Trixie. “All my days were pleasant when she was around, even the day I had to leave school. I remember that clearly still. When I got home to Whinnychester, I cried so hard, but she comforted me. Mother kept me in her embrace for nearly a full day, but never once complained as I kept crying. Being wrapped up in her hooves reminded me that I still had my family. Losing her was the toughest day of my life, even more than my father.”

“And what of your father?,” Altrix pressed.

“He...I suppose I know what it’s like to have a normal father,” Trixie said, struggling to express herself. “He was like any other stallion doting on his filly. He taught me things, he took me places, he comforted me at my low points. When my mother died of sickness, he helped me stay myself, from falling into a depressive funk. All the things you would expect…”

“Yet you and him had a relationship in a way unlike other ponies,” Altrix stated.

Trixie nodded. “Yes. No matter how much he lived a pony, he was still born a changeling. He had little eccentricities, he was paranoid. He told me many stories about the hive, about changeling history, about how he left and eventually found his way to Whinnychester, falling in love with my mother on the way. There was a whole side of him that I enjoyed knowing, even though I could never share it with others.”

“Do you resent him?”

Trixie froze up at the question. “What?”

Altrix repeated herself, “I said, do you resent him? It was due to his heritage that you once had to leave the School for Gifted Unicorns, upsetting your young life and all of your future goals in one fell swoop.”

“That’s…” Trixie trailed off, swallowing. It was the toughest question that had ever been put to her. Her father had asked her many times about it, but she had always said she forgave him. Here, however, when facing her reflection, nothing but the truth could be had. “Yes. I resented him. Even to this day, I think I still do. I had dreams and ambitions then. I wanted to be a powerful mage when I grew up, and even entertained thoughts of becoming Princess Celestia’s personal student. Yes, to this day, I still dislike that it happened. I suppose I would have never met four out of my five friends if not for the odd twist that my life took, but it still hurts. I can’t use that as an excuse.”

“As you will. You must confront truths like that, Trixie, even if they are painful.”

Trixie’s heart panged. She thought about how she had just recently met her father in that strange, heavenly realm. Had her father just seen this moment where she confessed her resentment for him? Trixie hoped not, but if all truths were laid bare, and the spirit was eternal up above, eventually he would find out.

“And when did you begin to think about becoming an alicorn?”

Trixie paused. She had to think about it, surprised by the sudden dovetail in questioning from asking about her parents to her ambition. “Perhaps I had delusions of it when I put the Amulet on...but I think it all started again, this time as a serious thought, when I brought Stonehenge out of his petrifaction.”

Altrix regarded her cooly. “Why then?”

“Because of what the elders said. Princess Celestia herself was unable to dissolve the effects of the spell, and said it would take at least a century before she could. It took me fifty years.”

Altrix glowered. “So you think you should become an alicorn because you happened to be able to do something Celestia was not? I think she is probably unable to juggle six different objects at once, yet I do not think there are jugglers out there who aspire to alicornhood.”

Trixie bit her lip. “It was more a thought than a real substantive idea at the time,” she said. “However, when I encountered Windspeaker and ran into the Living Wind and its ethereal nature, I was inspired. This was magic, and I would be remiss not to try going as far as I could. But I do not want to be like her, and ascend through creating a new magical spell.”

Altrix frowned. “What would you do, then?”

“I want to ascend through my own power,” said Trixie. “Not through creating a spell that makes me ascend, but by ascending myself through my spell. If an illusion is capable of tricking the world into dissolving magical ice, of healing a lost wing, of destroying a petrification spell, and of separating the twining of soul and magical force, then...then I should be able to fool the world itself into believing I too am an alicorn.”

Her opposite’s frown deepened even further. “You are toying with dangerous magic, Trixie. You know all too well the alicorns are on a tier of their own. They may exist on this physical world, but a part of each of them also inhabits the divine realm above. You still did not answer my question, too. Why should you become an alicorn?”

“Because I…” Trixie trailed off. The truth was she didn’t truly have that good a reason, merely a smattering of weaker reasons. “My father’s personal motto was ‘Who Dares, Wins’. Thus far, I have dared, and I have won. I have pioneered my skill further and further with every place I have gone to. To go further is merely the next logical step. And I, I...I once thought of myself as being equal to that mare. Since she became a Princess, I am now far behind. I want to catch up. Not to prove something to her, not anymore, but to me. I want to overcome my past.”

“Hmm. Is that your answer, then?”

“It is,” Trixie said, nodding.

Altrix titled her head down, closing her eyes. “I see.” She kept that position for several seconds, before she suddenly started laughing again. “Hohoho.”

“What is funny about that?” Trixie asked, feeling a little hurt. She had thought Altrix had finished with her shock-and-awe phase, and was genuinely trying to help Trixie out now. Instead, that laugh had sounded mean again. No, more than that, it sounded more malicious than anything Altrix had said thus far.

“Oh, you. I knew you couldn’t resist the temptation of power again,” Altrix said as she raised her head back up, only to open her eyes.

Trixie gasped, taking a reflexive step backwards.

Altrix’ eyes were glowing red.

“Hello, Trixie.”

Trixie felt herself trembling again. She remembered. It was the same vision that had haunted her for so long, fading away in the years after the Alicorn Amulet only to pop up again at times and give her the nastiest nightmares. The last time she had confronted this mare, it had been in Room 512 at the Centre for Mysterious Magical Maladies, halfway through her ordeal of healing Windspeaker.

It was Trixie herself, but a part of her that she had been only barely able to acknowledge to what had been Altrix. It was the taint that still existed on her, the Alicorn Amulet calling out to her with its seductive power. It was Trixie at her worst, the Trixie that had fallen into darkness. It was the bit of her that had never been able to heal, even through years of peace and quiet and months of making friends and finding her place in the world.

“Why so quiet? I thought you would have enjoyed seeing me again! I know I missed you,” the red-eyed Altrix gushed. “I told you last time that I would never let you go, didn’t I?”

Trixie remembered all too well. “And I told you to leave and never return.”

Altrix sneered. This time, there was true malice in the gesture. “Tough words. After all, didn’t you just tell me that I am you? Maybe the parts you don’t want to admit, but...trust me, Trixie. I know you, I am you. You want, need, thirst for power. Even when you saw the Alicorn Amulet, that was the truth. Were the shopkeeper not there, you were mere moments from stealing it.”

Trixie frowned. She remembered that moment all too keenly, it being one of the last clear memories before the fog that inhibited her time with the Amulet. She had brought money with her...but one sight of the artifact had driven her rationality away. Had the shopkeeper not appeared at that moment, Trixie would have succumbed to her baser urges and stolen it right there instead of paying for it. As it was, it only delayed the inevitable by mere minutes. It had left Trixie gnawing on her hoof more than once, thinking about how things could have changed had the shopkeeper been just a little less greedy and had turned her away that night. Likely Trixie would have just returned later and stolen the Alicorn Amulet outright, but it was always nice to think of what could have been.

“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since, and had time to come to terms with my past self. I wasn’t always the nicest mare back then, and even now I still have my moments. I’m trying. I won’t go back to the way I was,” said Trixie.

“O-ho-ho! What wonderful lies you spin to deceive yourself. Didn’t I just tell you you can’t lie to yourself?” Altrix cackled, her laughter so high-pitched it hurt Trixie’s ears. “You say you’ve matured, yet still you are here, looking for more power, more power, without even a noble reason for it.”

“I will never put the Alicorn Amulet back on,” Trixie defended herself. In truth, she wasn’t certain who this shadow of hers was. Was it Altrix, the gestalt of the pool, not liking Trixie’s answer and attempting to scare her straight? Was it the phantom that haunted her mind possessing Altrix’ form instead and materialising in the real world instead of staying confined to her psyche? Or was it a curse left behind by the Alicorn Amulet that simply would not go away?

Altrix barked. “Hah! What little does the Amulet even matter at this point? You used it for power, though it used you instead. But you don’t even need the Amulet to want more, do you? Instead, you want to become an actual alicorn this time, and for what? Petty reasons such as beating Twilight Sparkle, or proving all the neighsayers wrong?” Altrix leaned in, and it took all of Trixie’s strength of will not to recoil from the glowing red eyes. “I like it, Trix. Become an alicorn, and show all the lesser folk the true might of the Great and Powerful Trixie!”

Trixie grit her teeth. She knew how to overcome her demon. It was to face herself. But while the first Altrix had been understanding and warm after her initial outburst, this was an Altrix that had haunted Trixie for nearly four full years.

But Altrix had primed her for this. Perhaps the creation of the pool was merely a neutral party, or perhaps it was something that perfectly reflected every changeling that had come down here, and then Trixie. One thing was absolutely certain in her mind, however: had her clone led out with Trixie’s personal demon first, and then broken down her sense of self like Altrix had earlier, Trixie would not have walked away from this. She truly would have fallen apart. Instead, with some of her worst issues made raw and exposed, the red-eyed Trixie had little to batter her with.

“Yes. I think you’re right,” Trixie admitted.

“Good, then! Take what is yours by right! Show the world the true Trixie! You should never have been ashamed to hide your heritage! Revel in the power of all three tribes as your father sired unto you, but this time as an alicorn! Make all who have trampled you pay—”

“Shut up,” said Trixie.

She didn’t tell her red-eyed self to shut up in a huff, or beg her to quiet down so Trixie wouldn’t hear more painful words. Instead, Trixie told the other to stuff it because she was tired of hearing her talk.

Altrix recoiled, hissing in surprise at Trixie’s words.

“Every time you’ve come, it’s been the same spiel. Take the power again, run amok and cause blood and gore, fire and brimstone, yadayadayada. I’m simply exhausted of it. You sound more like a street vendor hawking her wares than a demonic opposite trying to corrupt me.”

“You dare? You dare mock me?!,” Altrix asked, the pupils of her eyes widening with rage.

Trixie shook her head. “I don’t mock you. I accept that this is a part of me. The Alicorn Amulet made me irrational, and it twisted my thoughts grotesquely until I did its every bidding, but underneath, it was me that was willing to go along with it. I was the one who wanted to banish that mare, I was the one who encased Ponyville in a dome, and I am the one who continues to feel its taint. But no more.”

“You—you!” Altrix sputtered. With a start, Trixie realised Altrix’ fur was beginning to lose its colour, decreasing in shade from Trixie’s own azure to the white that she had seen before in her vision while healing Windspeaker. “No! You can’t! You must take what is yours, and conquer and destroy!”

Trixie made to say something, only for an idea to form in her mind. “You’re right. I’ll take what is mine.”

Altrix’ head jerked back up, an excited frenzy in her glowing red eyes. “You will?!” she asked. Trixie found herself disturbed at how bubbly the mare could sound while talking about destruction. Despite the red eyes and shock-white coat, this was still Trixie herself in a sense.

“Yes.”

With that word, Trixie swept forward, and hugged Altrix.

“Wh-what are you doing?! Unhoof me!” Altrix demanded.

“I told you,” Trixie said, “I’m taking what is mine. You are a part of me, no matter how much I may wish to reject it. I am accepting that as truth.”

“No,” Altrix whispered, her white-coated frame trembling underneath Trixie’s ministrations, as the azure mare hugged her tighter and tighter.

“I’ve decided. I’ve gotten this far by helping each of the five ponies I’ve met and befriended upon this journey. I’ve been able to heal each of them in turn. When I become an alicorn, I want to continue and become a true healer, of ponies, of changelings, of any other who needs or wants it. And when I have the power...I’ll heal you, too, my other self.”

Altrix froze in her grip.

No words were exchanged for several seconds, as Altrix relaxed, her tense frame sagging in Trixie’s hooves. “Is that your final answer, then?” Altrix asked, eyes closed.

“Yes, it is,” Trixie affirmed.

“I see.”

Her doppelganger’s fur suddenly started gaining colour again, losing its creepy whiteness and turning blue again. At last, Altrix opened her eyes, now a deep violet once more.

“It is still not a good enough answer, Trixie. But it is better than what it was before. You must continue to fight your demons, and that will require more soul-searching. Becoming an alicorn is a hefty thing. Even beyond the mere task of ascension, ponies put great duties on the shoulders of alicorns. Merely being a healer may not be enough, but I cannot help you past this.”

“Thank you for all your help, Altrix,” Trixie said, genuinely meaning it.

Altrix chuckled, and tilted her head up towards the ceiling, looking at something that was not in this room, or perhaps even of this world. “Altrix, huh? I see what you did there. I suppose you needed something to mentally separate yourself and I, and what better than a name such as that.”

“Still, thank you again for all your help,” said Trixie. In response, her other half snapped her head back down, looking hard at Trixie.

“This place is not one that will fix you, Trixie. It shall not make you whole,” Altrix warned. “This Pool of Reflections merely turns your reflection back at you, and forces you to face what you are. Were you of a lesser strength of will, you would have left this room even more of a broken mare than when you arrived. All I can do is help you begin to help yourself. When you leave, your journey has only begun. Now that you are aware of your weaknesses, you can never stop attempting to better yourself. Only then shall you become as great and powerful as you once proclaimed to be.”

“I’ll continue to face myself,” Trixie promised.

Her doppelganger nodded. “I cannot hold you to that. You must hold yourself to it. Never lose sight of what makes you, you. Farewell, Trixie.” Altrix turned around, and walked away from Trixie, and back towards the pool. The clone pony stopped for a moment once reaching the edge of the water. She sighed, then took a step forward into the pool. Instead of beginning to float, every step she took brought her deeper and deeper until even her horn disappeared underneath the surface.

Altrix was gone.

Trixie looked at the pool. The Pool of Reflections, huh? If the pool near Ponyville was the Mirror Pool, capable of creating clones of a pony, then this pool was capable of showing one’s reflection, no matter how dirty or gunky parts of it may be. Trixie wondered how the Empress had discovered this pool, or how it had been created in the first place. It was a mysterious entity that was so far removed from Trixie’s own understandings that she thought she would need another lifetime to study it.

The water continued rippling for a few seconds. Then it subsided, turning into an undisturbed surface. Trixie entertained touching the water again for a few seconds, before deciding against it. She had come and done what the Empress had wanted of her. Instead, Trixie turned around, and stood up. She craned her head up to look past the stalactite-dotted ceiling of the cavern, and to the heavens above.

“Princess Twilight Sparkle.”

The words died off after a brief echo. Being able to say those words felt liberating. There was still work to be done, Trixie knew. Becoming an alicorn was no easy feat. If it was, there would have been more than a hoofful of them in Equestria’s history.

Trixie had the power of illusions to help her attain apotheosis. Now, however, it was time to confront the Empress for the other half of the potential puzzle: how to utilise the pools of magic that gave Trixie the ability to use pegasus and Earth pony powers.

“It’s time,” Trixie said, determined. Feeling her eyes full of vim, she took off up the curved slope going around the side of the room, returning back to the Empress’ throne rooms, where the changelings and her friends all were.

Author's Note

Obligatory music

This is one of two chapters I've anticipated being able to write. Yet...this was also perhaps the most difficult chapter for me to write thus far, largely responsible for the delay in this arc.

As you might be able to imagine, I'm a giant Trixie fanboy. How else could I take what was at the time a third-tier pony (before she fought her way into the main cast in Season 6 and 7) and conjure an entire story out of her and a group of OCs? So to write her getting castigated thoroughly was fairly hard.

If you've seen me in some of the FIMFiction chats before, you may have seen me mention that I like to mash several small ideas together into a larger storyline. This Mirror Pool being a sort of 'I'll face myself', Windigo fossils being able to cause low temperatures and snowstorms, the Living Wind, and Trixie's power of illusions were all separate ideas that came together under one story.

Empress: Alicorn

Trixie made the return through the cavern, and then through the long sandstone corridor. All the way there, she felt as if her body was light, lighter than even the few times she was briefly able to hover while self-levitating. The experience she had just went through had been heavy, but having gone through it, Trixie now felt transient. Throughout the walk, she was floating on the world underneath her hooves.

In no time at all, she returned to the throne room.

An odd sight greeted her: unlike before, where most of her companions had been seated at the back of the room, with only Noire beside her close to the Empress, all five of her fellow ponies were now sitting around in a semi-circle close to the Empress, with Iceheart at the centre. It seemed that in the time since Trixie had gone on her trip for self-discovery that her friends had been engaged by the Empress to sit for a chat.

The Empress was the first to notice Trixie, though she did not turn in her seat. “I see you have returned. How was your journey?”

“I found myself...at peace,” Trixie said vaguely. As the Empress would have known what the Pool of Reflections was about, she expected that to be a decisive enough statement.

A soft hum was what Trixie got in return as she trotted around to the front of the dais to face her friends. “Trixie!” came the uniform cry from her friends, each with varying degrees of happiness to see her back again, and a little bit of affection from the red-furred pegasus among their numbers.

“What happened back there, Trixie?,” Stonehenge rumbled in his deep voice.

“I—hmm...may I?” Trixie asked, looking back at the Empress.

“You may,” said the Empress, right before she descended into another coughing fit.

“Mother. I think it is time for your feeding.”

Larynx stepped forward again, having stood as solid and stone-faced as the changeling guards. Trixie noted uneasily that except for rotating on guard whenever she or Noire had moved around, they were in the exact same position as when she had first entered this room several hours ago. They were true professionals.

Trixie opened her mouth to explain what had happened down there, only to break off as Larynx moved forward towards the Empress and pressed his mouth against hers. Intuitively, Trixie knew what it was. Her father had very occasionally shared his love energy with her mother, turning it physical and sharing it via a kiss. There was another method for changelings to transfer energy, one that required no contact and was entirely platonic, but her father had been entirely romantic.

However, this was no romance. Instead, Larynx was feeding the Empress.

The effects were quick. Some of the splotches on the Empress’ carapace became less noticeable, and the black parts started to shine. Her hair was just a little brighter, and she perked up, slightly more energetic than she had been. Even her breathing became steadier, more moderated.

As Larynx moved away, the Empress answered the unspoken question. “Long have I lived, ever since the time of the Windigos. I have survived the reign of Discord. I have watched your pony kingdoms rise and fall and rise again, and I can truthfully call your pony princesses my juniors. But it has cost me. Though the mind remembers, the body cannot keep up. My daughter Queens may go through trials, but they are nonetheless cruel. Why else would they give unto me the title of Empress and keep me alive when I, a cripple, cannot even feed anymore, requiring my Voice to sustain me? Even my eyesight and hearing have steadily declined these last few years. Soon, I will be confined to merely my tongue, which has yet to fail me, but even then I need a Voice. I faced the Windigos, yet I am not allowed to face death.”

Trixie clenched her teeth. Somehow, it hadn’t hit home until that moment just how truly old the Empress was. Sure, she had lived over a thousand years, but Trixie had not even heard the Empress talk much of her past. However, seeing her be fed by another, like a common foal instead of a mare, was more decisive than the Empress’ mere appearance. The older crone was less a changeling than she was a husk that continued to be inhabited by an old soul.

“But enough of that. Yes. You may tell your friends what happened down there.”

The unicorn mare sighed. She wanted so desperately to ask the Empress now for the secrets of what the hybrids could do, as she had promised, but the elder was right. Instead, Trixie turned back to face her five friends, who had clustered together after being sprawled out. “Again, what happened, Trixie?,” Stonehenge asked, his golden-yellow eyes showing both concern and curiosity.

“It was...a mysterious thing,” Trixie began. She swallowed as she figured out a way to explain the truth of what had occurred. “There is a pool down there, perhaps big enough to be called a pond, but a pool nonetheless. When you approach it, your reflection in the water takes a physical form.”

“It what?” Red Wings asked in a surprised outburst.

“It takes physical form,” Trixie repeated herself. “The other me, I called her ‘Altrix’, she said that it was the ‘Pool of Reflections’. I think it was less a pool and more a magical artifact, maybe an ether sink, or a connection of leylines perhaps, but the pool had...gained sentience after a sort? Altrix said the pool, it turns your reflection back at you. It makes you face yourself, all that you are, both your good qualities and your bad.”

“Trixie...the Amulet?” Noire asked, attempting to tiptoe around the sensitive subject.

Trixie nodded. “Yes, the Amulet. Even four years later, I still feel a taint on my soul from those days. It’s no longer as potent as it was, but there is still some of it clinging to me. Like, the best way I can describe it as really is grease that you can’t get out of your fur, no matter what. Altrix, the pool, they forced into the open all the nasty truths and secrets that I’ve been hiding from for my whole life.”

Stonehenge shuddered. “That sounds like it was an awful experience.”

She answered his shudder with her own shiver. “It was,” Trixie admitted. “Yet, it was also...liberating? I needed it. It was cleansing. It was deeply personal, and Altrix didn’t care to go easy on me. Easy wasn’t what I needed. If she had gone easy on me, I would never have achieved the epiphany I needed. Every excuse I came up with, she threw right back in my face and trampled it until I was stripped of the layers of lies I’ve built to protect myself over the years. It...it...it hurts. I don’t think we’re meant to be called out that way. We build up lies that we tell ourselves so all our failings, our shortcomings don't keep us awake at night. Altrix used it to hurt, before she used it to make me heal. But it’s still painful, thinking about what she did.”

“I see,” said Stonehenge. It was clear that the subject of what had happened down at the Pool of Reflections, while profound, was deep enough that pressing Trixie would be like attempting to soothe a wildcat with no mind but for its own pain.

“I can see why the changeling Queens go down there, to a one, before they are allowed to rule, though,” said Trixie. “I...do not quite like Queen Chrysalis, but she must have gone down there. She would have been required to face herself, too.”

“Yes. All of my daughters and granddaughters who wish to take over a hive must come here and go down to the Pool of Reflection,” the Empress added from behind her. “Not all of them come out for the better. Those who are able to adjust are those who are fit to rule. Those who cannot may return down there, but only a few have persevered through their first thrashing and worked up the courage to go a second time.”

“Perhaps those few have the greatest strength of will,” Trixie murmured. She couldn’t imagine going to see her shadow once more, so shortly after having already been metaphorically skinned.

“Would it be worth each of us going down there as well, then? I know I still have my own hang-ups from Sombra’s reign,” Iceheart said.

“No!,” Trixie barked, before backing off, pressing a hoof against her chest and letting her heart rate slow down after the sudden spike. Taking a few breaths, she said, “Well, maybe. If the Empress is willing.” Trixie said this with her back still to the Empress.

“Not all ponies would require it. After all, not every pony seeks to become an alicorn.”

Trixie spun around so quick she could have sworn she broke her neck. “Wha—how did you—”

The Empress cut her off. “It is a foolish sentiment, but an ambitious one. However, I already fought one monster in my day. I would not set upon this world another one in the form of a broken mare with too much power.”

“How, how did you…?”

“Wait, what? What is she talking about, Trixie?” Red Wings asked, taken off-guard by the way the conversation had suddenly gone. Trixie wants to become an alicorn? What is the Empress talking about? Wait, she’s not denying it. She...really?

Trixie narrowed her eyes. “The Pool of Reflections, were you—”

“Spying? Of course not. I would never spy on a ritual as sacred as confronting oneself down there. But I have ways of knowing,” said the Empress, cooly regarding Trixie before casting her gaze over the rest of the ponies. “What your pony friend has kept secret for so long is her burning desire to become an alicorn.”

“Are you serious? Oh gosh, you are,” said Windspeaker. Trixie felt fortunate that he did not feel hurt, merely shocked.

The other ponies attempted to chime in, but the Empress cut them off, her voice suddenly strong and her form no longer weak as she managed to stand up on her front two hooves for the first time. “Yes. Your friend Trixie kept it hidden well. Never once did she voice it out loud, or write it down. If she had, no doubt the Living Wind would have told you.”

“Bwah?!” Windspeaker himself was taken by surprise. “How do you know about the Living Wind?”

The Empress sniffed. “I never did, right until you walked into my cave. Such an interesting aspect of the forces of creation. I am glad to know that I am nearing the end of my lifespan yet can still learn new things. It is a good thing the Living Wind cannot read me. I did not take to secluding myself to Colt Springs only for a pony with an ability of freak birth to be able to eavesdrop on me.”

Windspeaker never told her about the Living Wind while I was down there? Trixie thought. Then how does she know about it? Wait. I thought it was just silly fantasy, but could she—

“It really is just silly fantasy. I am no more a mind-reader than your pegasus colt still has one wing.”

“Urk.” Red Wing reeled as the Empress casually mentioned her knowledge of his past deformity. Aside from Iceheart, none of them had talked freely of their histories to the changeling. How does she know these things so easily?

The ponies had stood up, warily backing away as the Empress suddenly revealed profound knowledge of all of them. The Empress laughed. It was a light, jovial thing. “You think I am attempting to divide and conquer the six of you. Nothing could be further from the truth.”

“Then—explain!” Noire demanded, though she kept a close eye on Trixie at the same time from her periphery view.

“For a thousand years and more, I have travelled the world, and settled here in Colt Springs,” said the Empress. “In that time, I met countless ponies, gryphons, minotaurs, donkeys, and a hundred other species. Changelings are the ultimate empaths, able to sense the emotions of others, but I have lived longer than any other.” Sensing she had an enraptured audience, the Empress continued. “It would only make sense that, with time, I would become more experienced. I began to differentiate between platonic love, romantic love, familial love, the love of a crush, and the thousand other varieties of love. I could tell the hundred strains of joy, and the many shades of anger. Before I knew it, I could tell what creatures were thinking, not just feeling, based on the unique confluence of emotions that each of them had.”

She turned on Stonehenge. “You regret the fifty years that you have lost while in stone. The potential love you had at the time has since aged and passed, all without a chance to confess. Your parents are gone, and so are most of those you called friends. The world has passed you by, and you decided to leave to have a chance to get to grips with it, but you fear that what you really have done is to run away from what was once a home, but which now hurts you every second you were staying there.”

Stonehenge sputtered and choked. His large size was of no use in protecting him against the Empress’ accusations. That they were all too true rocked him to the core, and for the first time in years he felt like a colt being reprimanded by his dam again.

The Empress turned on Red Wings next. “You feel bitter at all those who used to be your friends, but you wonder if it was they who forsook you when you lost your wing, or if it was you who forsook them. You felt like a pathetic mongrel as you wandered from town to town, getting drunk far too many nights to count so you could forget the pain, and eventually having to be on the run from the law on top of that. Even as you regained your wing, you wonder if your new friends would forsake you too if somehow you lost your wing again and could not get it back. Even if you could explain the regrown wing, you feel too much shame to be able to return home and reunite with family, friends and neighbors alike.”

This time the pegasus felt his world shatter. Red-furred ears drooping as low as they could go, Red Wings couldn’t offer anything more up in defense than a soft, instinctive growl. A phantom pain emanated from his left wing, and Red folded it over his head partly to reassure himself it was still there, and partly to hide himself from the Empress’ words.

“You are actually a well-adjusted one,” the Empress said as she spun to face Iceheart next. “But you still have your fears and hang-ups. You wonder how much good you might have been able to do if you had fought King Sombra, even though you know you would have been outclassed. You feel you are a coward, allowing yourself to be effectively exiled into a fortress away from the Crystal Empire, all while leaving your sister and former friends behind to be enslaved by the Witch King. Even Sombra’s corruption as a colt is something you think you could have prevented, no matter that he was just one of a thousand faces in the background to you before his fall from grace and rise to power. You look at me especially as a face of fellow resistance against the Windigos and think you could have, should have been able to do better.”

Iceheart took the harsh remarks on the snout remarkably well. The purple-furred mare merely bowed her head. Though the effect was less than the two stallions beside her, Iceheart still felt her heart stir in turmoil. It took all her control to keep the hot tears in her eyes unshed.

“You scold yourself every day for not being more proactive with the Living Wind,” the Empress next said to Windspeaker. “Every time you know about injustice being done through the wind’s currents, you tell yourself ‘I could have done something to prevent this, I could be doing something still to prevent it’. Yet very rarely have you acted, only doing so when it involves minimum effort, wishing only to enjoy as best you can the rest of your days in this world before you fade away into the wind. You despise your timidity, and were it not for the appearance of a cure you would have gone to the grave hating this world for bringing you into it with such a curse, hating even the Living Wind that was your only companion for so long.”

Windspeaker trembled, his blue eyes losing focus as he zoned in and out of the world around him. It was a decisive takedown of his entire life. It was clear to him that the Empress of All Changelings deserved both title and reputation, if she was able to read him so thoroughly in a mere few hours. Even the rage he felt in his heart would be easily deciphered by her, if the Empress’ words about being so great an empath that she could effectively read minds was true.

“As for you.” Finally, the Empress turned to Noire. The batpony pre-emptively had her ears up against her head and her wings tucked in, already expecting harsh words. “You have felt that you were too passive your entire life, always reacting, never acting. You are not even certain that you truly wanted to be a guard, but were just following in your father’s hoofsteps. You believe you always took what your father was for granted, and only now that he is dead do you want to harness your heritage to pay tribute to his memory. You hate the way you ran away from home, and how you hid away far away from Canterlot for several months. Even when you returned, you slunk in under cover of darkness as another pony entirely. You never asked your mother tough questions when you did, because you were scared that she would hate you.”

Even though Noire had braced herself, it was not enough. Midway through the Empress’ words, she had already started sobbing. It had not helped that she was the last of the five that the Empress had turned on. Because Noire herself could sense emotions, she was already primed by the catatonic reactions of her four pony friends.

It was havoc. It was as if the Empress had become the Pool of Reflections herself, tearing each of the ponies apart in a methodical manner, exposing them more than they had been willing to open up to one another.

At the centre of all it was Trixie. The psychic assault on her five friends was magnified by the fact that they were her friends, and all the emotional training in the world could not deaden her empathic sense to this.

“Stop! Please, stop! Why are you doing this?!” Trixie pleaded, but she was unable to do more than that. She had her hooves around her head, instinctively trying to block off her ears from all the noise, but there was no noise, it was all empathic signal that no amount of blocking her ears would ever prevent. The emotional anguish continued to cascade, building up like a waterfall of sorrow created by tearing down the mental dams created by five ponies over their lifetimes. It was like a migraine to her, but even worse. For the first time, Trixie truly began to detest the gift she had inherited from her father.

The Empress looked on, not showing a hint of apology on her hard expression. “So you truly are a daughter of a changeling.”

Trixie was unable to reply to that, sobbing from the pain. Hot tears were dripping out from her eyes, blinding her. Once more, she was down on the ground, her limbs having given out at some point.

“Many centuries ago, I gave a blessing to one of my many sons who loved a pony mare to go and woo, then finally wed her. To my surprise, they managed to have a foal. I thought it was impossible,” the Empress said. Her words were so soft Trixie nearly missed them underneath all her own noise. “When I investigated, I found it was not to be a one-off, as the couple had two more foals. However, at the time, I was also dismayed to find that it would take a great deal of energy for conception, more than would be practical for our races to ever truly interbreed. That none of my daughters could reproduce with a pony without using still more of their hive’s power nipped that idea in the bud. Only if we went out into the open and received love and generosity from all ponies could it ever be possible.”

“But the existence of you half-breeds always lingered at the back of my mind. Several of you were born every generation. When I tracked their descendents down the ages, I saw a few interesting things. Ponies who would occasionally be able to use magic from a tribe not their own, which every new crop of half-breeds refined until the methods your fathers taught to you to use it were tried-and-true. Nearly all were strong empaths, many who would often go into healing professions as a result of their sympathy for others in pain.”

By now, Trixie was beginning to gain some normalcy over herself. It helped that the Empress had stopped talking her friends down. While she was the Pool of Reflections writ large in a changeling, being as savage and cruel as Altrix ever had been, she was far more brief in it than the ordeal the Pool had been. Though the initial onslaught had been rough, the Empress had quickly backed off. With her friends getting over the mental trauma, short as it had been, Trixie was in turn able to listen to what the Empress was saying.

“But what always struck me was that many ponies would eventually suffer in their old age,” revealed the Empress. “Ponies are not changelings. They cannot feel emotions over a lifetime without suffering from it, because they were never born with the mental conditioning we were. Most only showed small effects of this exposure rotting away at their minds, but some of your ilk were eventually deeply disturbed.” She paused, taking a deep breath, before finally the Empress sat back down, curling up on her throne. “It is good to see the both of you are not that strongly affected.”

Trixie nearly sputtered. Her mind rushed to a conclusion. “This was a test?!” She asked, feeling undignified. Everything that the Empress had just put her friends though was all merely to test Trixie and Noire’s empathic reactions? “You put my friends through all this just for a test?!”

“It would be no worse than if they were to go down to the Pool of Reflections.”

The unicorn grit her teeth even more. Trixie felt the pain from the splitting headache she had just suffered, that was still there but lessening, metamorphose into a growing anger. She wanted to throw an outburst, but curiosity won out over anger. “Why?” Trixie asked firmly, pawing the ground with her hoof as she got up.

“I told you before. I will not unleash a pony out into the world with too much power and too little wholeness of will and spirit.”

Trixie bit her lip. “I would never—”

“Yet again you deny a truth. You picked up the Alicorn Amulet once already. Who is to say you will not similarly fall temptation again? You may think you have morals, but I have seen all too easily how that can be overridden by temptations and corruption. You can ask your friend Iceheart about King Sombra.”

This time, Trixie bit her tongue instead of her lip. She realised what the issue was. The Empress was being hyperlogical. But she either did not consider the ramifications of the hurt she had committed, or she had and simply did not care.

“The ends justified the means.”

There she goes again, doing that, Trixie thought, her muzzle scrunching up in anger and annoyance. An extreme talent for being able to interpret the thoughts of others through their emotions. How many years did she have to practice that for?

“Over fifteen hundred.”

Arrgh, and again. No wonder she compares herself to the Pool of Reflections, she’s both as nasty and as good as Altrix was. Wait. The Pool of Reflections. Something about that isn’t...she’s smiling. Why? No. If she’s been effectively able to read our minds since we first got here, she’s probably been manipulating us ever since we first got here. But...wait, she sent me down to the Pool of Reflections first.

“You wanted me to go down to the Pool and face myself first, didn’t you?” Trixie accused the Empress, and she knew she was right when the Empress hadn’t cut her off in mid-thought. “You could have simply torn into me when we first came in. Maybe you would have had to wait a few minutes to do whatever it is you do however it is you do it, but I would have been susceptible to it. Instead, you let me go down there. When I came back up, anything words you said to me personally would have been ineffective when my clone already did it.”

The Empress reared her head back and laughed. It was an oddly peaceful laugh, one that didn’t send her off in a coughing fit. “How right you are, my little pony.”

I knew it! Trixie thought in satisfaction. It was the first victory of any sort since the Empress had caught her off-guard in this mental battle. Wait, what is she...doing…?

“Mother! What are you—”

“Away, Larynx,” said the Empress as she lifted a hoof, dangling it precociously over the edge of her dais. Timidly, awkwardly, she lowered the hoof until it made contact with the first stair coming down from the stone dais. With a halting breath, she lifted her other front limb, and moved it down the next step.

It was one of the most pitiful sights Trixie had ever seen. The Empress had just put on a display of dominance, cowing all six of them into submission with mere words. Now, it was the reverse as she attempted to move on her own. Trixie had known it before, but seeing the old crone attempt to move, it was sad to know that potentially the sharpest mind the mare had ever seen in her short lifetime was in a body that was just so fragile. Already, the shine in the Empress' carapace that had been brought about briefly from her feeding was beginning to dull. Her lack of depth perception from having only one working eye was obvious with every step she made. The changeling’s torso was so skinny, and her tail had been cropped off to a nub. Even the holes in her limbs, trademark to the changeling race, looked as if they were wasted away.

After several minutes, the Empress made her way down the few short steps of the dais, and then walked up to Trixie. Perhaps she had been as tall as Queen Chrysalis was when she was older, but now the Empress was just a touch shorter than Trixie herself. Nonetheless, she did not look up, forcing Trixie to look down to meet her eyes. Even now, the former leader of the changelings had her pride.

“I am Anfang. I am the progenitor of the changelings.”

“Anfang.” Trixie rolled the name around on her tongue. It was not a changeling name that she knew of. Then again, Trixie doubted any changeling would name his or her offspring the same name as the Empress. Still, Anfang had been courteous to at last give her name, so she would do the same. Giving a slight curtsy, she said, “I am Trixie Lulamoon. My birth name is Bellatrix Midsummer, but that is not who I am.”

“Greetings, Trixie, daughter of Wooden Chisel and September.” Anfang rose a hoof, and it took Trixie a moment to realise what it meant.

They shook hooves.

“You’ve always wanted ponies and changelings to be able to co-exist peacefully, haven’t you, Anfang?”

“I am the Empress of All Changelings,” said Anfang as she lowered her hoof. “My daughters may have given that title to me to mock my fall from grace as my body declined to this decrepit husk you see now, but I accord my new title a great deal of respect. It means that I am responsible for all changelings, not just the ones who live in the hive underneath Colt Springs. For many years, I have been concerned about my race’s future as we become further and further secluded from the hearts of others, especially after my foolish daughter Chrysalis’ actions in invading Canterlot. When you entered the hive and came here, Trixie, you delivered unto me the greatest gift I could possibly have received, if only you could survive the trial of the Pool of Reflections. When you did, I knew you were the pony I needed. Become an alicorn, and with your strength and wisdom, you can bridge the great chasm that has opened up between my people and all other races, but especially the ponies.”

Trixie’s eyes widened. “Then—”

“All of this was a test, yes. But it was not guaranteed to be a success. More than the risk of you becoming another King Sombra, you are the daughter of a changeling and a pony. Were you to change into a tyrant like him and ponies found out of your heritage, my race would be even more ostracised than it was before. Any half-breeds such as you would be hunted to extinction by those who are driven by fear more than rationality.”

Trixie swallowed back an enormous lump that had formed in her throat at that thought. If she had failed...Trixie hated to think about the possibility of others like her being killed merely for what they were. Changelings like her father proved that ponies and changelings could live together, but one moment of giving into temptation could have torn that potential future asunder forever.

“Your reflection told you that merely being a healer of others would not be enough of a reason to become an alicorn. I cannot disagree. Even I, who have lived ages, am not of the same divine status as an alicorn. But if you become one and use the chance to heal not just others, but the relations between two entire races, that will be enough.”

Closing her eyes, Trixie briefly meditated, breathing in and out. I never had a chance to fight, did I? Ever since I came in, both Altrix and the Empress have helped to guide me so far.

“We have,” said the Empress, smiling.

“Then I’ll do it,” Trixie said, at last committing to her decision, ending the conflict that had been stirring in her heart for several weeks. “I will become an alicorn, and use my new status to bring us all together. Not just changelings and ponies, but changelings and every other race.”

“A noble sentiment, then,” said Anfang, before she frowned. “But the Alicorns are not just merely a step above a unicorn, a pegasus, or an Earth pony. They are partially divine. No matter how great your magic is, a mere illusion cannot capture something of the divine on its own. To emulate the divine, you must first understand it. As I interpret your powers, you will never be able to ascend on your own. There is a limit to what magic can by itself. You must have an alicorn right in front of you to be able to.”

Trixie felt like she had just been slugged in the barrel, letting out a visible ‘oof’. “Right in front of me? You mean, I have to actually be next to one of the Princesses to ascend?”

“Your true skill only shines when you are in great conflict. Only when you have been driven to help another pony have you been able to advance in leaps and bounds. So will it be the same. You cannot merely walk up to a Princess and use your magic. You could ask them for help, and do it on peaceful terms, but I know them. They cannot abide a pony that they have not had their hooves on for their entire lives ascending. Even if there are two new Princesses that I have never met, I know they would not be where they are without the sisters coaxing them into it, and slowly bringing them into the ideal of absolute stability. It would be doubly so impossible were they to find out you had a changeling father. No. You must somehow get an alicorn to fight you. Only when their divine presence is in front of you can you copy their sheer being and trick existence into believing you are the same as she. It will take you coming to blows with an alicorn merely once...no, maybe two times, to become one yourself if you execute your magic perfectly.”

“Twice?!” Trixie yelped. “No, even once would already be enough. How could I possibly face any of them? I might have learned how to make the field of magic I specialised in do things I never imagined possible, but I am no battle mage. The most I’ve ever fought in my life with magic was when I,” she paused to swallow, before continuing, “When I wore the Alicorn Amulet.”

Anfang looked at her for the first time with concern. “Your path is fraught with hazards, pony of the crescent moon and wand. I cannot be certain if merely once will be enough, so you should make certain to have a fallback plan, though the Princesses will be aware of you as a threat to their hegemon after your first attempt. I am no alicorn myself, after all. Though I am strong, old, and wise, I am no more celestial a being then the worms that crawl in the dirt. Still, the longer you can prolong your first conflict, the better a chance you have of ascension.”

“That doesn’t answer my question!,” protested Trixie. “I am no fighter, no matter how much magic I have learned.”

“We will help you,” Anfang said, reassuring the younger mare. “My daughter, the Queen of this Hive, listens to me in most things, the only one of my many children along with Larynx who have made sure to provide for me even as I grew old. You may not be strong now, but you may remain here in Colt Springs, both on the surface and in the Hive, so long as you require. I have a thousand years of knowledge of what the true abilities of half-breeds, hybrids, can become. It will not be a lifetime of training, but I am certain between tailoring your illusions to help in battle and what we can teach you, it will be enough.”

Trixie bowed her head. She still wasn’t certain.

“But enough of that. While I hope you will do a marvelous job, that is all in the future. For now, you should talk to your friends.”

Her heart thumped, as Trixie turned around and faced her five dearest comrades, the ponies she had met and gathered in her journey leaving from Whinnychester and eventually coming here to Colt Springs. They all had varying emotions on their face, but to a one, none of them felt angry towards her. Her heart thumped some more, but this time Trixie was happy, instead of nervous.

She turned back to face Anfang. “What about them, then? If I am to face an alicorn, I would not want them to be left behind if they will join me.”

“We will provide them with training, too. Though we are not ponies, many of my sons and daughters have spent years among the ponies, learning their secrets and skills. Three of you are already experienced in battle. Between the six of you, and your many talents, I am certain you can find a way.”

Trixie bowed her head again, accepting the Empress of All Changelings’ words. It felt like their conversation was almost at an end. Then, she had a thought.

She looked up to Anfang to see if the elder mare would interrupt her and answer her or deny her question before Trixie could even ask it, but Anfang merely nodded. Trixie breathed in, then said, “The way you talked earlier about granting your son permission to love a pony mare, and the way you seem to want for ponies and changelings to be able to live together...did you ever love a stallion, Anfang?”

Anfang held her head low as well, a soft smile on her face, eyes closed. Then she raised her head back up, opening her one good eye. The peaceful, content expression remained. “Of course. Who do you think Colt Springs was named after?”

Trixie nearly jumped at that answer. It was unexpected, yet it felt so true.

You truly are full of surprises, aren’t you, Anfang? Trixie thought to herself as the Empress turned around to move up. But one thing still bothered Trixie. With my power, couldn’t I—

“No.”

Trixie let out a small ‘eep’, flushing. Being reprimanded felt like she had been caught with a hoof in the cookie jar when she had just been a filly.

“Time is a force to be respected. Even if you usurp the heavens, I would still not ask you to conquer time for me,” said Anfang, her back to Trixie. “I may be old, but that is the normal consequence of all living things. Even those who claim immortality, such as the sisters, must die someday. Besides, were I to be made young once more by the power of your illusion, I would fear my own potential. If already I can effectively read the minds of any who come before me, I would not be able to trust myself going back out into the world. There will be others, no doubt, who will plead with you to do the same for them in the future. You will have to think carefully before renewing one’s youth other than perhaps your own. What is old cannot be made anew, even if the flesh appears to be so. Make your father proud.”

With that, the Empress at last crawled back onto her dais. It was an epic struggle for her, perhaps even more than coming down, but the Empress was a strange creature of pride and wisdom. Trixie considered herself blessed to have met Anfang, even if she had been cruel with the way she had torn into her friends. But what did she mean about making my father proud? Does she even know about that…?

My friends, right, Trixie remembered as her train of thought changed tracks. For however long she continued to stay in Colt Springs, Trixie was certain she would continue hearing Anfang’s wisdom. However, there were still five others that she would have to talk with and convince.

Turning around, Trixie walked back towards her five friends.

“So you want to become an alicorn,” Red Wings stated, wasting no time.

“Yes,” Trixie confirmed.

Iceheart narrowed her eyes. “But why?”

“It…” Trixie struggled to answer to her friend. In front of the Pool of Reflections and in front of Anfang, she had been able to reply, but to Iceheart, it was an entirely different thing. “It is many things. I want to continue helping others, but I remember those other patients at the Centre for Mysterious Magical Maladies that I could not. As the Empress says, I would be able to finally help my father's people get along with my mother's people. And, well..."

“Trixie,” Iceheart said in a warning tone, cutting Trixie off before she could gather her wits and carry on. “I grew up in the Crystal Empire with a colt named Sombra, and was witness to his fall into darkness. I watched as King Sombra took over, and was powerless to stop him. I will not stand for another tyrant to rise, one that I know I may actually be able to prevent.”

“Iceheart,” Windspeaker tried to say, only to be interrupted as well.

“No. I cannot help but feel this whole affair is foolishness. I heard what you and the Empress talked about, but I am unconvinced. You can heal individuals well enough as it is now, just as you managed with Windspeaker. Why can you not build up a reputation as a grand magician capable of healing any injury, then reveal yourself as a magical hybrid? Perhaps you may have to lie a little in the process, but I am certain ponies would be better able to accept changelings if they see what the offspring of one is capable of with her magic.”

Trixie sucked in her breath. It appeared one of her friends was resolute to hound Trixie about her desire. This was why she had not revealed it sooner, but now, Trixie had no choice but to answer.

Stonehenge spoke before Trixie could stand up before up for herself. “Iceheart, I do not think Trixie would simply rashly decide she wants to become an alicorn. She has a noble heart. If her conviction is strong, then surely she—”

“Quiet, Stonehenge,” Iceheart reprimanded the large stallion, making him clench his teeth and narrow his golden eyes. “I will not mock you for your accomplishments, for they are great ones. But you never lived under King Sombra like I have. None of you have. I would be remiss to simply stand by and watch as Trixie loses herself to several subsequent choices and always going ‘it is for the greatest good’, while it is never enough to whet her own appetite.”

“Y-you truly think so little of me?,” Trixie asked, ears splayed back as she thought she was seeing one of her friends turn on her.

Iceheart snorted. “Think little of you? Hardly. I have journeyed with you, Trixie. I know your heart almost as well as my own. It is for your heart that I express my concern. I cannot stop you wholesale from committing folly, but I can discourage you from doing so.”

“Oh,” said Trixie, feeling better with that answer. “But no, I do not think of it as folly. Deep down, perhaps I do want power. Altrix, my reflection that is, the clone that greeted me down there at the Pool of Reflections, she...she laid my life bare to me. But she also made me realise something.”

“What is that?” Iceheart sharply asked.

“The first time I thought about it was when I cured Stonehenge of his petrification,” Trixie replied, taking a brief nod at the grey-furred stallion in question. His eyes widened in surprise at finding out his time as a statue was the genesis for her ambition. “I thought it was more of, ‘This is something I was able to do that Princess Celestia could not, and did not think she could do at this point in time’. That I was somehow better than her in at least one marginal way. But I was looking at it the wrong way then. I have achieved greatness in attempting to solve a problem that each pony I have met on the road has had. Were I to become an alicorn, there is perhaps no illness I cannot heal.”

“So you say,” Iceheart said, still regarding her cooly. Frowning, she stared at Windspeaker and Stonehenge. “I assume neither of you truly have an issue with what Trixie has said, do you?”

“Well…” Windspeaker fidgeted under his glare, feeling for once like the protagonist of many of the stories he had read where a colt was torn between two fillies, or a filly torn between two colts. He worked up his courage, and said, “Yes. I am a little bit upset Trixie did not confide in us, but if I did not know even through the wind, then it must have been something she has really been quiet about, if she did not even mention it to herself in private.”

Trixie felt a little bit disturbed at that. Had she talked in her sleep even once, Windspeaker would have known about it.

“My feelings are the same as Windspeaker’s,” Stonehenge intoned. “Well, minus the part about having the Living Wind to know almost everything about anypony.”

Windspeaker just let out a huff at the teasing.

“I won’t even ask you, Red, no offense,” Iceheart said. It was a taciturn dismissal, but everypony knew about his crush by now.

“None taken,” Red Wings answered. He had been focused on keeping his wings tight to his side. Had he not, Red Wings suspected they might have flown open as part of a fight-or-flight reflex. Iceheart was playing hardball, and though he wished to defend Trixie, he knew Iceheart was right. This was not a conversation he could reasonably be asked to take part in due to his bias.

“Then what about you, Noire?,” Iceheart asked, turning to the last of the group.

“Erm, um,” stuttered the batpony. Noire had realised Iceheart would eventually question her, but still felt herself wilt under the Crystal pony’s tough look. Even though she had been a soldier herself, Noire would easily admit her career as a guardspony had been nothing in comparison to Iceheart’s.

Noire scrunched her nose in intense concentration. “I spent several months with Trixie in Whinnychester before she helped me gain a second skin,” Noire began, then squeezed her eyelids shut as she realised how morbid that description sounded. “Er, a new appearance. I’ve know Trixie to be lazy, and selfish, and sometimes just a total slob.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” said Trixie, inciting snorts from the stallions. Still, Trixie's own heart was tense at Noire’s words and Iceheart’s resoluteness.

“Sorry, sorry! But, um. Throughout that whole time, while Trixie was attempting to better her magic, she never once was truly concerned with getting power. Trixie had a hang-up about leaving town following learning of Wooden Chisel’s death, but she managed to help herself at the same time she helped me out. Trixie just isn’t the sort of pony to really think about things like getting stronger for getting stronger’s sake. We chatted into the wee hours of the morning many nights, sitting by her fireplace, up until and past when the last embers died out. I know of the Alicorn Amulet event. I also know it was when she fell into the lowest point in her life, after working on a rock farm for many months, that Trixie finally snapped and went and put the stupid thing on. So long as even one of us remains her friend, I know Trixie will never fall like that again.”

It was a speech from the heart, and Noire exhaled deeply after finishing. The marble-coloured batpony put a hoof up against her chest, no doubt to feel her own rapid heartbeat. Trixie found herself speechless at Noire’s words. She hung her head. Though Trixie smiled, she could feel tears welling up. Noire’s were simple words, but they had been beautiful words. Thank you, Noire, New Moon. I wonder what you think of all this, Anfang?

“Very well,” Iceheart said at last, assenting to the rest of the group. It seemed that Noire’s words had been enough to convince her as well. She turned to face Trixie again, blue eyes meeting violet. “I trust you with my life, Trixie. You are more charismatic than I. I have led a thousand. You lead merely five, but our loyalty to you I think is absolute. It is still not something I like the notion of, you becoming an alicorn, but so long as you are willing to confide to us in the future and listen to me, not just hear me out but truly listen, I will follow you down whatever foolish road you wish to take us. Even if it is into Tartarus itself.”

“Iceheart…” Trixie bowed her head. “Thank you very much. Thank you so, so much.”

“You can thank me by never letting your heart turn as dark as Sombra’s did.”

Slowly, each pony looked one another in the eyes. What had started as a fellowship of two in the rural village of Whinnychester had added on one pony after another, until suddenly they felt complete, like a whole group. They had just gotten past a moment that could have fractured them whole. Trixie, Noire, Iceheart, Red Wings, Stonehenge and Windspeaker all knew that they could have just been irreparably separated. Even the loss of just one of them would have been like the loss of all of them. Instead, they had pulled through. Right now, their camaraderie had never been stronger.

The six put their hooves together. They shook hooves.

When they at last broke apart their hoofshake, Trixie turned back to face the Empress, once more sitting on her dais. Colt Springs was a pleasant enough place to live, but Trixie knew the next while was going to be long and arduous as the six prepared for their showdown. They would have to spend many nights talking to one another about the holes in their hearts the Empress had exposed with her powerful psychic assaults, reconciling their regrets with the present. Though they still needed the training to fight a battle, in her heart of hearts, Trixie knew both she and her friends were all ready. Was this what Princess Twilight Sparkle felt when she first activated the Elements of Harmony with her dearest friends? Trixie wondered.

“Anfang, we’re ready.”

It was a different group of ponies who left Colt Springs six months later than when they had arrived.

“To ascend, I must force Princess Twilight Sparkle into a confrontation,” Trixie said as she floated along the ground under perpetual self-levitation, reiterating the plan they had developed and rehashed many times in the half-year since the Empress had first hosted them. There was no question about which alicorn Princess that Trixie would face off against. Trixie didn’t believe in destiny, but it was only fitting that she would fight the one who had been responsible for two of three major upheavals in Trixie’s life. “It won’t be any little incident that will get her to fight me, but I can’t just ask her to duel me. I won’t commit anything immoral to get her to come to me.”

“For that, you need the Alicorn Amulet,” Red Wings said, reaffirming their plan. He had since gotten used to flying again, reducing the little bit of flab around his primaries that had resulted from being ground-bound for so long. A changeling therapist had broken him of his psychological inhibitions from sharp turns, developed over years of simply not having a left wing and losing the instinct to use it.

“Indeed. If there’s one thing I know the guard treats seriously, it will be the pursuit of those who seek out dark magic artifacts. If you steal the Alicorn Amulet back from the zebra who lives in the Everfree, and she passes it on, there will be an army on you soon enough. From what I know of Princess Twilight, both of her history with you and the Amulet and the Everfree being so close to her own castle, she shall surely join the chase as well,” agreed Noire. Having been a former guard who had kept up her exercise, her appearance had changed little since first coming to Colt Springs. However, though she looked a batpony with a wiry frame and velvety wings, Noire now possessed many tricks than just mere flight. Learning both Earth pony and unicorn magic, she could throw a spell followed by summoning a rock with her hooves followed by flapping her wings and sending out a compressed burst of air meant to bludgeon. Nopony would be able to see all her tricks. Noire had gone a long way from asking Trixie for help with magic that normally only unicorns could use, all the way in back in Whinnychester.

“We will need to hide out in the Everfree Forest afterwards, at the Castle of the Two Sisters. We have lots of time to make it our home and scout out to learn the area before the Amulet is stolen. When the Princess falls upon us with Equestria’s finest, they will fall into a trap months in the making,” said Windspeaker. The months had been fine to him. Gone was the scrawny unicorn who had barely been able to walk out of Room 512 at the Centre for Mysterious Magical Maladies. In its place was a strong stallion of stout stature, confident in both his mind and body. Though Windspeaker’s normal magic was still below par for a unicorn, he had made leaps and gains, and he had become more familiar with the capabilities of his lifelong companion. “The Living Wind tells me that the Castle is a safe place for us to go. Perhaps we can fix it up a little when we are there for the battle that shall come.”

“Hmm, the Castle of the Two Sisters. It has been a thousand years since I have seen it. I fear that it will have become decrepit and run-down since. The image I still have in my head is of a radiant and shining fortress that brought hopes to the hearts of ponies both close and afar.” Iceheart tilted her head curiously. “Perhaps it shall do that again when it becomes the birthplace of a new Princess.” Iceheart had changed little since she first entered Colt Springs, her budding romance with Windspeaker aside. She was still a fighter through and through, and had merely refined her technique. Though she had agreed to Trixie’s plan initially, Iceheart had at last fully warmed up to it in the last few months, bonding more thoroughly with everypony else.

Stonehenge brought up the rear. “It feels weird. I would have never thought I was in history in the making when I fought as part of The Wall, yet I became a permanent fixture of the town’s character for fifty years. Now I find myself thrust into another conflict, this time a rebellion against my entire nation. Well, maybe a rebellion is too strong of a word. Truly, were it not for how blasphemous it still seems, this would merely be us helping a friend reach her fullest potential. Do not regret the path you have taken, Trixie. We are your friends, as I have said. It would be remiss of me to shirk my own choices and walk away now.” The enormous stallion had somehow managed to grow another hoof-length while in training, as he engaged in mock battles with several of the changeling guards at once on a daily basis. Through meditation and careful cultivation of his own magic, Stonehenge’s body had become even more of a literal wall.

Trixie smiled at her dearest friends and the words of support they had given her. Then she smirked. She let the haughty arrogance that had once been her downfall come back up to the front, but her words were all in jest. “The Great and Powerful Trixie will put on the greatest show Equestria has ever seen. It would not do for her act to be brought by a subpar group of performers. Come, ponies! We challenge this staid society before us, to show them that they need not fear aspiring to break their limits! We will bring ponies and changelings back together, and reconcile them for once and forever. It may yet end in ruin, but who dares, wins! Let us march, my little ponies!”

There was a great challenge in front of the six ponies who had been brought together by a single mare daring to wander out into the world and pioneer her power to an unheard-of extreme. They would all answer that challenge with gusto.

The Living Wind howled.

Author's Note

So that's the Empress arc. Something I wanted to do was very slowly build up an image of a changeling sitting in western Equestria who appeared to be all-powerful, capping off with the end of The Living Wind arc where her actual title is given. Then there's a massive whiplash when I present a crippled changeling who can't even feed. Then I turn that on its head once more by having her drive the entire plot of the arc. I think it turned out well.

Saying that, my long hiatus with this story actually helped this arc significantly. If you can believe it, the Empress was going to reveal her ability to 'mind-read' in the first chapter of this arc. Instead, after months of running plot details over in my head, I pushed it to being the reveal of the third chapter. Doing so was by far the better choice. No, seriously. Can you imagine if I dropped that bombshell at the start? It would have completely changed the character of the arc, and easily for the worse.

Now, I don't really like doing the timeskip I just did, but holy smokes. If I had done a six-month hiatus where I went into describing their personal journeys and development during those six months, this story would have easily blown up another 50k words.

In the next chapter, Trixie and co. head to the Castle of the Pony Sisters, where Trixie fights a certain purple alicorn.

Castle: Shadows

“But you, my little ponies...you can call me Deinos.”

It took the six ponies gathered around the stage a few seconds to break out of their stunned state. In Equestria, ponies generally worshipped alicorns, even as the number had increased from one, to two, to three, and finally to four alicorns in the last few decades. Each of them had been immersed in that culture. Even if they were ponies with irregular backgrounds that prevented them from obseiant worship, they still generally respected the alicorns.

Now here was a fifth alicorn. Unlike the quality of noblesse oblige that ponies imagined alicorns to radiate, this Deinos had just attempted to attack them, with the obvious intent of killing them. Ten Little Ponies was a nursery rhyme that had endured in popular culture for many centuries, old enough that even Iceheart knew it. The malice the purple alicorn had mentioned wishing to recite it with made her intention obvious.

Windspeaker sucked in a deep breath of air. “An alicorn?” he asked aloud, stunned. Still, it was only the second-most surprising thing in the last few minutes for him. The most surprising thing was that the Living Wind had not detected the so-called Pony of Shadows. That does make sense why Trixie knew she was there before I did. The Living Wind cannot detect alicorns!

To Windspeaker, it spoke of another issue. But where did she come from? I thought there were only four alicorns in Equestria! The Living Wind was similarly agitated. It vibrated with what passed for surprise.

This alicorn obviously wasn’t a princess, however. Princesses didn’t attempt casual murder to start a conversation.

The unicorn was abruptly taken out of his thoughts as his warning sense went off. Looking down, Windspeaker saw the shadowy silhouettes at Deinos’ hooves suddenly coalesce and gather into one large mass, before swinging like a bludgeon at them across the floor. Yelping, Windspeaker jumped off the stairs to the side, keeping one eye on the shadow and one eye on the ground. There were still too many chunks of stone and mortar laying around, remnants of the battle that had occurred here a thousand years ago, and Windspeaker silently wished they really had cleaned up earlier. The stallion was lucky that he had not been hit by the shadow taken corporeal form.

The railing of the stairwell where Windspeaker had just been standing was not so fortunate. The shadow smacked the stone railing, breaking off an entire section and sending small splinters of rock flying. Windspeaker quickly used his magic to conjure a shield, protecting both himself and Red Wings, who stood next to him, from the shrapnel. With a quick peripheral glance, he was comforted to see the other four were also safe, having dodged or blocked the shadow and the follow-up storm of stones with their own methods.

No wonder she is the Pony of ‘Shadows’. That’s dangerous. I’ve never ever seen magic capable of manipulating shadows like that!

Well, it was true Windspeaker had never seen anypony capable of such. Through the Wind, he had at least heard of a rare few. Typically, they used a weak form of elemental manipulation, controlling shadows like they might fire or water. But what those other beings did, ponies and gryphons and zebras alike, was mainly used for parlour tricks, such as causing someone’s shadow to move around and grow and shrink.

In just the brief, fleeting moment that Deinos’ silhouettes had moved, Windspeaker knew her shadow magic was far more advanced than the elementalists he had heard about. Windspeaker himself was a precedent for how much control of an element a pony could possess. Unlike her, however, Windspeaker had never contemplated killing another pony like Deinos had just now attempted.

“Oh-hohohoho, at least you all survived this much!” Deinos cackled. Hers was a disturbing laugh: it was a deep one, her chest visibly shaking in mad glee. That the purple-furred alicorn had just attempted equicide made it even worse. “It’s good you stayed with that changeling witch for six months. I would have been disappointed if the show ended before it even had begun. I want to have some fun tonight!”

Suddenly, one of Deinos’ shadows moved right in front of her, just in time for a blue bolt of magic to strike it, dying out in an instant against the corporeal shield. Deinos blinked. As they spun around in their sockets, her golden eyes shone with malice. “Ooooh, my. So you actually did learn how to manifest magic like that? Yes, yes, I’m so glad you stayed that six months. The future where you came here immediately would have been so boring. Here, let me show you how it’s done.”

Noire grit her teeth. With her opponent’s warning, Noire instantly kicked off her hooves and swept through the air, just in time to avoid another silhouette strike. Though she had learned how to cast spells like a unicorn, she still required too much focus for the more powerful stuff. If Noire had to focus, it meant she wasn’t moving. Deinos had only acted a few times so far, but those moments she had was proof of the new pony’s potential lethality.

Suddenly, the batpony had a premonition of danger. Ignoring her earlier instincts to always be moving, she sat down and cast. Quickly, Noire put up a shield in front of her. The magic was nearly transparent in form, merely distorting the air like a fire giving off heat would create a haze-like effect. It came up just in time to block the Pony of Shadow’s own electric javelin strike. The ethereal shield shattered near instantly, the electricity continuing on. Fortunately, Noire had moved out of the way in the tenth of a second her magic had given her.

A sizzling smell of ozone permeated the air. It terrified Noire. She knew that if she had only attempted to dodge Deinos’ counterattack, she would have been a freshly-skewered batpony. The javelin had slowed down enough thanks only to her sudden use of magic. Noire felt her stomach doing flip-flops at the sudden brush with death. That nauseating stench of electricity and ozone in the air reminded Noire of too many bad memories in training and on patrol, and only those same experiences kept her focused on the impromptu fight and not on gagging.

Deinos would have surely taken advantage of Noire’s brief disorientation. However, the purple alicorn suddenly jumped in the air and spun with a flicker of her wings, and the shadows that surrounded her split into three separate tendrils. The tendrils intercepted a two-coloured bolt of magic and a large rock. The third tendril seemed to have done nothing at first, only for a high-pitched whistle to screech throughout the great chamber.

“Using your wings to shape the air and send an invisible razor-sharp slash at supersonic speeds, impressive,” Deinos said. As she appraised Red Wings, her golden eyes started to rotate even faster. The red pegasus growled. While Deinos had attacked Noire, Trixie and Windspeaker had combined their magic to send a joint magical beam at the Pony of Shadows. Stonehenge had settled for brute force, and picked up a large rock to throw at Deinos. Red Wings had snuck in his own attack behind the other three. Being both invisible and moving faster than sound, he had hoped it would get past the apparently formidable barrier of shadows.

Either Deinos had somehow seen the slight flicker of his wing out of the corner of his eye, or the shadows themselves moved on their own to protect their master. Either possibility spoke more and more of how terrifying she was. Despite instinct and experience developed from years of roughing it, Red Wings still hadn’t fully actualised that there was an alicorn right now trying to kill them. He snorted and shook his head. The changelings had trained him for six months so that he would be in a better position to help Trixie, his marefriend, become an alicorn. Red Wings had expected to use his new fighting skills against fellow Equestrians who would view her potential apotheosis as heresy. He hadn’t expected this.

Deinos clicked her tongue, and sighed. Her golden eyes danced with a feral glee. “Well, it’s impressive, but it still won’t be enough. Come now, foals, show me what you’re capab—”

There was a bang! sound, then none could see as an intense white light flooded the room, as if the heavens had just called down a lightning strike into the decrepit insides of the Castle of the Two Pony Sisters. Deinos stumbled, her rear hooves taking a step back to stabilise her. “Urgh!” she cried, as she was hit hard by a feeling not quite like pain but an intense discomfort verging on pain. Vaguely, she could feel tears welling up at her eyes.

Trixie tried to breathe in relief, only for the breath to get caught in her throat. As the one who had first noticed Deinos, she was ever slightly mentally ahead of all her friends. Even if Trixie had been stunned by Deinos’ revelation of being an alicorn, Trixie still had to pull the weight when it came to the mortal danger they had all been suddenly thrust into. Under pressure, she had remembered the flash bombs she still carried. It had been years since Trixie had performed as a showmare, instead refining her talents in her actual magic, but one could not take the showmare out of the pony. To this day, she still carried her flash bombs around, as a secular alternative in a pinch to using magic.

Just seconds earlier, Trixie had made a signal to Windspeaker and Noire, the other two ponies in the room capable of using magic. With coordination borne from rehearsing fights for six months, the two unicorns and one magic-wielding batpony cast a thick protective film over their own eyes and those of Red Wings, Stonehenge, and Iceheart in the split-second before the flash bang went off. To Trixie’s relief, Deinos’ protective shadows didn’t appear able to protect her from a sudden light show. However, she was uncertain if it was a trick that would work twice.

The six didn’t waste time, as they regrouped back towards the door leading into the throne room, facing towards Deinos who still stood at the foot of the stairs. Their hearts were harmonised as one. Once again, each of them launched their own separate long-range attack against the mad pony, who had her head down towards the floor, rubbing her eyes with a hoof.

As their hearts were as one in that moment, so did their hearts sink as one as the shadows suddenly moved around again to block the six separate strikes.

“So your shadows are able to act independently,” Stonehenge said, gritting his teeth. Twice now he had picked up a large rock and tossed it at Deinos. Twice now, a part of her shadow had split off to intercept the rock, grinding it into fine dust as the entities collided. Stonehenge found himself at a loss. He had once led a group of ponies to defend the walls of Manehatten against roving bands of monsters, and commanded a core group of five other ponies to strike back and raid the nearby forest. As the undoubted leader of The Wall, Stonehenge had accumulated much practical experience in skirmishes against beings with esoteric talents. Though he was working with a different group of five ponies, he had quickly acclimated to their own abilities after six months in Colt Springs. Yet he was already feeling overwhelmed by a single pony. Stonehenge grimaced. He coiled his back legs, ready to make a move at a moment’s notice.

“Oh? I was found out so quick? Hohohoho,” Deinos cackled as she looked up, once more able to see. It was clear that her alicorn biology wasn’t for show. An intense flash of light that would have taken normal ponies minutes to recover from had only fazed her for a few seconds. Those few seconds were enough for a single solid hit, only for Deinos’ shadows to get in the way once more. “I was not called the Pony of Shadows for nothing, you know!”

“Why are you doing this?” Iceheart suddenly spoke up. They had asked Deinos questions earlier, before she had tossed her cloak aside and engaged in a brief-but-intense skirmish. However, Iceheart was not asking the question in hopes of finding a common ground with the mad alicorn. She could feel Deinos’ intent to kill. Instead, she was attempting to sound out the other pony and get a greater feel of her capabilities.

“Hohohoho,” Deinos laughed again. Her laughs were never pleasant. They erupted from the belly instead of the throat, and were full of mocking. “Why, you ask?” Suddenly, some of the shadows that guarded Deinos retreated and converged around her, forming a solid congealed mass once more. The mass moved under Deinos’ hooves, then suddenly sprouted out of the ground like a geyser. It lifted the purple-coated alicorn up until solidifying into a cylinder-shaped pillar several dozens of hooflengths in height, leaving Deinos physically towering above all others.

Deinos flared her wings out, revealing a wide wingspan with taut muscle. For the first time in the fight, she was finally standing still long enough to really take a good look at, and the moonlight made her looks clearer. Her coat was a darker purple, resembling the shade of lighter-coloured eggplants, with a vibrant violet mane. Deinos was tall. She wasn’t as tall as Princess Celestia was, let alone Stonehenge, but most other ponies would have to look up to meet her haunting golden eyes. Where Princess Celestia was lanky, with long legs and a thin torso, Deinos was more well-built, with a large barrel. Obvious muscles poked out of her body. Even if she were to somehow lose her shadows, her horn, and her wings, Deinos would still have been a physical threat.

“Surely not all ponies are so innocent that none of you squished the ants under your hooves when you were foals? Like bugs caught in a spider’s web, it’s the same principle.”

Trixie immediately felt her throat lurch. There were fictional books written for adult ponies that were far darker than what life was like in Equestria. In those books, there were immoral characters who would hurt and maim and murder with little care. The most lacking in compassion even had the attitude that life was cheap. It was a sickening ideology, and those characters were always clearly the bad guy.

To hear a pony express those sentiments in the real world made Trixie feel ill.

But Trixie braved her way past it. Deinos’ sudden appearance had taken them by surprise, along with her initial attack. Trixie had clued in before anypony else that Deinos was there, however. She was the fleetest of hoof in adjusting to the flow of the battle, and now that Deinos had her shadows tied up in the pillar supporting her, Trixie saw an opportunity. She didn’t think it likely to work, but it was one she had to take.

“Sitting so far below me, you ponies are mu—” Deinos continued to monologue, only to be interrupted as a part of the pillar suddenly disintegrated, gaseous shadow suddenly rising up and solidifying in front of her.

Ping! Trixie’s attack had just hit the newly-reformed shadow shield. The female unicorn had sent a shot of concentrated air, so delicately forged that it was completely invisible. Trixie had even cast the spell while suppressing the luminescent glow of her horn so Deinos could not see her using magic.

Deinos snarled at the interruption. “How rude. That do—”

Suddenly, the alicorn jumped. The pillar vaporised as she did, and the shadows curled around her body once more. Long tendrils shot out again, and started wrapping across the columns and beams of the throne room. More shadows split into tiny tendrils that swayed back and forth. To the horrified awe of the six, Deinos began to swing around the room, using the strands of shadows like tree vines from a pulp novel to maneuver her way around the room at such high speeds that they would be unable to attack her with any accuracy.

But just as soon as Deinos was swinging around, she came to a stop. The alicorn wasn’t any less terrifying, however. The shadows that connected Deinos to every part of the room had once more come together and coalesced into a mass, then began to subdivide into smaller sections. This time, the shadows created a web between two large pillars strung up across the stairs leading up to the thrones. To add to the effect, Deinos had sprouted four extra limbs from her barrel. With a menacing hiss, she quickly used all eight of her limbs to crawl across the spider’s web to the centre. Then she turned around, hanging upside down with a final shadow tendril connecting from her belly to the web. Deinos gave off the sinister image of an arachnid pony, ready to devour her prey.

It was clear that Deinos knew how to strike fear into the hearts of ponies. And she was succeeding.

“The Living Wind, was it?” Deinos said, focusing on Windspeaker. She was obviously furious earlier, but it seemed she had calmed down in the last several seconds. “It is an odd gift that you have. The ability to manipulate the wind to its most primal level. If I were not an alicorn, I might have to actually fear such techniques you used on me.”

Windspeaker bit his tongue. The Living Wind was in a chaotic howl. If he had to describe it, he would say it was actually angry. Windspeaker had never felt the Living Wind like this before, and it was an unpleasant sensation. He was frantically trying to calm it down. The white-furred unicorn needed to be fully in sync with the Living Wind if he wanted to continue the fight against Deinos. Truth be told, however, Windspeaker knew that Deinos was mocking him. What he had just attempted was a variation on Red Wings’ earlier razor-sharp air blade, only Windspeaker had broken it up into multiple smaller shots, each cut of air perhaps the width of a tooth. He knew Deinos could have blocked every strike with her shadows. Instead, the purple equine had chosen to swing around the great chamber with her shadows and then play the role of a spider. Windspeaker hated it, but he had felt cowed by her intimidation. It didn’t look good for him and his friends.

“Still, it is certainly interesting,” Deinos continued. “There was nothing like it, or at least no pony who could tap into it, when I was born a thousand years ago.”

There was a mass intake of breath. The six ponies who were ready to move out again into a new formation suddenly paused. Iceheart was the first to speak. “You are over a thousand years old?” she asked, surprised.

Deinos clicked her front four limbs together, deepening the disturbing image of a spider. One could almost expect her to show off fangs next. “Of course, of course!” said Deinos, clearly enthusiastic about having suddenly dropped such a startling revelation. Her golden eyes were rotating in glee. “Haven’t you heard the legend of the Pony of Shadows? I am said to be a part of Nightmare Moon’s magic, so of course I am that old. But dark magic alone cannot create life, and I am a living, breathing, pony. My birth wasn’t that far from here. A thousand years ago, Princess Luna became Nightmare Moon, and then Nightmare Moon gave unto me true life.”

“Nightmare Moon was your mother?!” Noire asked, her voice almost lowering into a screech at the end. As a batpony, she was fond of the Matriarch of the Night. To find that Luna had given birth to such a monstrosity as Deinos, even if it was when she had turned evil, was like a slap to the face. “But no, wait. Nightmare Moon was only around for a matter of days. How could she have given birth to you in that time period?”

“Oh, no. Nightmare Moon was my father. Discord was my mother.”

“Are you screwing with us?” Stonehenge suddenly asked. He had tired of being ridiculed and mocked by the Pony of Shadows through the entire battle. The giant Earth pony could tell Deinos was once more belittling them by telling such a preposterous story. “Nightmare Moon did not appear until well after Discord was sealed, and she was a mare. How could she have sired you?”

Deinos threw her head back again, and laughed. “Ohohohoho! Very interesting. True enough, Nightmare Moon was a mare. But I never said I was made like you ponies were.”

Suddenly, Deinos flipped back around, hooves towards the floor. The shadows that made up her four extra limbs and the string attaching her to the spider web all flowed back into a small mass around the top of her withers, and the alicorn opened up her wings, gliding to the floor. Deinos shook her head, throwing her mane around, and the spider web itself disappeared, the rest of the shadows joining its brethren at her back. “A mere few years ago, your beloved Princesses were captured by an overgrowth of plants that originated from the Everfree Forest. It turned out those plants were plunderseeds, a life form capable of leeching energy from anything it touched, even the Tree of Harmony itself. A thousand years ago, before Discord was sealed into stone by the Princesses wielding the Elements of Harmony, he spread the plunderseeds across this land. They were in dormancy, to stay inactive until the Tree of Harmony had weakened after enough time.”

Deinos looked up at the ceiling, where small holes allowed glimpses of moonlight through. There was sheer, unbridled joy on her face. For the first time, there was no malice in her voice, which made the madmare even scarier. “Those plunderseeds are my siblings. I first came into this world as a plunderseed.” Deinos looked back down at the six ponies who had fought her in the last several minutes, coming off the worse for it. She sneered at them. To a one, they had their mouths open, enraptured in horror and awe.

“When Princess Luna became the Nightmare, she became a caster of such dark and foul magic that it was even capable of contaminating the land. Princess Celestia thought the Elements of Harmony had been able to purify all of the evil spread into the air and water and soil. But she was wrong, oh so wrong. Some of Nightmare Moon’s magic touched even me, and so I became thus, this body given to me by my mother, and this magic given to me by my father. The shadows have been my protector since I was truly reborn. It took me several centuries before I was able to assume this as my true form. I slipped up in my early years, and so ponies came to spread the story of the Pony of Shadows. But I am more than a story.”

Trixie trembled under Deinos’ gaze. To her, the alicorn’s story sounded ridiculous. And yet, it felt like there was some truth to it. Hadn’t so many beings awoken from deep slumber all at once in the last few years? Nightmare Moon had returned from her imprisonment on the moon. Discord had broken free from a statue. King Sombra had returned along with the Crystal Empire. The aforementioned plunderseeds had taken over the Everfree Forest. Lord Tirek had escaped Tartarus and rampaged across the land. Begrudgingly, though she could not think of the changelings as villains, Trixie admitted that Queen Chrysalis had suddenly become active, after more than a century of staying low. What was one more tyrant?

What scared Trixie was that it was her and her friends that were the ones to face off against this monster, this Deinos, the Pony of Shadows of old maids’ tales past.

“My siblings may have been purged by the Tree of Harmony, yet I still live. Hmm, speaking of the Tree of Harmony, I suppose I need to get my revenge on it. Harmony is what defeated my mother and father, so I cannot allow it to live. Once I have killed you mongrels, I will lure the six ponies who once wielded the Elements of Harmony into this castle. With their deaths, the Tree of Harmony shall be weakened by proxy, and I can destroy it with ease. From there, I can finally walk out of this castle and purge this world. Oh...I will have to create some doppelgangers of the six of you. It may be easier to trick them into this castle using your forms.”

Those words suddenly made something snap in Trixie. She remembered what Anfang had said so many months ago.

“You must somehow get an alicorn to fight you...It will take you coming to blows with an alicorn merely once...no, maybe two times, to become one yourself.”

Trixie looked back up at Deinos. The unicorn inhaled, then exhaled. In came the cool calm of the night air, before it had been disrupted by their fight. Out went all the worries that had accumulated in Trixie, not just over the battle thus far, but from the last six months. She knew what she had to do. With another signal of her hoof and eyes to her friends, they suddenly started switching around and pairing off.

The move was obvious to Deinos, who smirked. “Oh? Are you going to try again? Hah! Give it your best shot. Harmony is the only force in this world possible capable of defeating me, and you, my little ponies, are not Harmony!”

The other ponies paid her no attention, quickly getting together with their partner. Using self-levitation, Trixie flew over several rocks and stones, the debris added to from chunks of the floor and ceiling damaged and broken apart from their skirmish thus far. She found herself next to Red Wings. Opposite Trixie and Red Wings, at equal angles apart to form a perfect triangle, were Noire and Stonehenge, and Windspeaker and Iceheart. From this angle, they could adjust their attacks if Deinos attempted to dodge, and the six would also avoid accidental friendly fire against one another.

Deinos’ shadows rotated around her, staying on the defensive instead of moving out to strike again. Unbidden, the shadows suddenly began to slow down, before coming to a stop. For the first time the six friends had seen them, the shadows were completely passive and motionless. “Well well, give it your best. I’ll give you a single shot without my shadows. You still won’t be able to do anything, but at least I’ll get some more entertainment!” Deinos boasted.

Trixie clenched her teeth together. Thus far through the fight, they had been constantly put on the back hoof. For once, she wanted to get a strike in on Deinos, something that would more than just stun her for a few seconds like the flash bomb did. For the first time in many years, since the death of her father, Trixie wanted to hurt somepony. Trixie recognised she was falling out of the desirable state that Anfang had spoken of, but she was beginning to not care. She traded looks with Red Wings, violet eyes meeting red, and then cast her magic.

Red Wings hopped off his back legs and used his wings to sweep around to Trixie’s back side. The avian pony summoned his own internal pegasus magic he had learned how to manipulate after many months with the changelings, and guided it to his wings. Red Wings took a deep breath, and as he exhaled, the red stallion flapped his wings as hard as he could, sending out an enormous gust of air. Its strength was so great that Red Wings fell to the floor, his wings unable to stabilise under the recoil. The gust of air quickly took shape as it moved along the arc of travel Red Wings had sent it. With the Living Wind to guide it, a horizontal, spiralling wind tunnel formed.

Then Trixie added fire to the wind tunnel.

The wind tunnel suddenly roared as it lit with cackling flames, and both ponies could feel it pulling in the surrounding air to fuel itself and grow larger and larger. In turn, it spit out heat, causing the area to increase several degrees in seconds. The flamestorm was like a monster that had broken free from its restraints, with little care for who or what it injured. It was only from months of gruelling practice that Trixie and Red Wings felt capable to aim it at something, without getting caught in the backlash. And it was aimed directly at Deinos.

“Oh my...this truly is interesting,” Deinos said as the flamestorm quickly came upon her. To the other side of her was a second attack, a pile of rocks grinded down by Stonehenge into sharp pebbles and launched into a tornado by Noire. Behind her was an incoming enormous spear of ice, forged by Windspeaker using the Living Wind to concentrate moisture in the air and remove heat, and thrown by Iceheart, able to tolerate the extreme cold of the lance. All three attacks were timed perfectly to strike Deinos at the same time. The alicorn had no time left to dodge.

Ka-boom!

A heat wave suddenly rippled out from the epicentre of the combined attacks. Trixie had already started to move away as soon as she saw all three attacks would be true, grabbing Red Wings and teleporting a skip away to the end of the chamber. Despite the distance she had gained, the heat was still oppressing, with the air sizzling to the point that it hurt to even breathe.

Sssss~

A split-second later, there was a loud hiss as the ice lance vaporised under the heat wave. The ice sublimated straight into water vapour, clouding up even a chamber as great as the throne room. Trixie immediately threw up a magical shield, as she knew what was coming next. Even as the room fogged up, blocking all visibility, tiny granular matter sprayed all over, pelting her shield. It was the remnants of the rocks Stonehenge and Noire had launched in a tornado attack at Deinos.

Though Trixie and Red Wings’ flamestorm might be expected to neutralise the lance forged of ice, each strike was intended to hit its target before contacting each other. From her sides, Deinos would have been hit by a tornado of rocks and a storm of flames. From behind, she would have been cut down by a lance that would have caused an ice burn due to its extremely cold temperature. Once all three attacks converged, the heat wave would turn outwards, completely freed from any control. The heat would turn the ice into vapour, clouding the room, and hiding the rocks that would be broken down even further into tiny shrapnel. Despite the contradictory nature of the attacks, the magic infused into each salvo was able to create a truly devastating combination attack. Even if Deinos had used her shadows at the last moment, they would have had to guard her in an impenetrable sphere to stop any injury.

“Is she done for?” Trixie asked as she felt the tiny impacts on her shield finally die down. Waiting a few more seconds, she lowered the translucent purple-tinted dome.

“I doubt it,” Red Wings said. “She’s an alicorn. I’ve heard from the changelings that even Princess Cadance can take a punishment, even though she’s barely ever fought a battle. Even if Deinos thought she was in danger, I’m certain she would use those freaky shadows of hers.” Red Wings inhaled, then let out a long breath. “Those shadows are a weird ability. I’ve heard about a lot of strange techniques wandering around or from my contacts in the changeling hive, but this is something far away from anything I know. It’s like you or Windspeaker, but those shadows...it’s like they are a part of her. The way they respond to her and guard her, I think she has even finer control of them than Windspeaker does of the wind.”

A breeze suddenly swept in through the windows as well as the holes in the walls and ceiling, flushing out the fog. A pleasant chill washed through Trixie. Even if Deinos as an alicorn was somehow above the Living Wind, the mystical force that permeated all the world’s air was still on their side. With the fog went away the intolerable humidity and heat. As the fog continued to be pushed outdoors, clearing Trixie’s line of sight towards the epicentre of their attacks, she could see her and Red Wings’ joint flamestorm had gouged a clear trench in the stone floor. Even now, there were glowing red hot spots. Slowly, the fog dispersed.

In the centre of the room, a pair of golden eyes suddenly appeared, spinning wildly.

“You—what?” Trixie cried out in surprise. Deinos was clearly there, right where she had been standing prior to the combination attack, standing on top of a single section of floor that was intact, with a large circular section of floor around her gone. But the golden eyes that had originally been the only part of the Pony of Shadows that could be seen before she threw off her cloak earlier were once more the only visible body part. Rotating ever swiftly, Deinos’ golden eyes were set into a spherical mass of shadows.

“Surprised? Hohohoho.” Noise came out of the black ball, before wispy vapours of the shadows broke off, coming together and reforming around the golden eyes. Within seconds, the shadows solidified and gained colour, turning into the alicorn Deinos. “You must have practiced that attack. I can see how much damage it would do against any other alicorn,” Deinos said, rotating her shoulder cuffs as she looked around. She let out a whinny and a snort. “But, well...unlike any other alicorn, I can avoid attacks like that by turning into shadows. Neigh, I AM the shadows!”

Trixie staggered back. A tiny part of her was skeptical of Deinos’ proclamation. It was possible that Deinos had indeed dodged the attacks while Trixie and her friends were unable to see her, and then bluffed them by hiding herself in the shadows afterwards. However, the rest of Trixie doubted that Deinos was bluffing her. That Deinos herself could turn into shadows, not just wield them, and dodge both physical and magical attacks, appeared to be the utter truth.

In that event, how are we supposed to hit her at all?

Trixie felt like she had come a long way from the lowest point in her life, ever since that fateful day in Whinnychester when she had learned of her father’s death. She didn’t want her road to end here, perishing at the hands of this megalomaniacal madmare that spoke of destroying Equestria, but Trixie was now fumbling in the literal shadows, grasping out desperately for a way to win.

Suddenly, a thought popped up in her head.

Deinos has her shadows. Why...why can’t I do what I’m good at?

“That’s...huff...ridiculous!” Windspeaker cried out, on the other end of the chamber, close to the stairs that would lead up to the giant organ. He was panting hard, having to summon the Living Wind as well as using his own magic to forge the lance of ice, then teleporting himself and Iceheart away thereafter before finally casting a shield. Even after six months of training, Windspeaker was still lacking in stamina after years of staying in the hospital. The effort had greatly fatigued him. “Why are...huff...you like this? A plunderseed born from...huff...dark magic? I don’t believe that!”

“Hmmm? Says the pony who is able to commune with the very wind itself,” Deinos said, turning her gaze on him. “Such an ability is wasted on a mongrel like you. I would seize it myself if I could, but the Fates Three didn’t see fit to give me the capability to do that. Perhaps they were afraid I would slip out of their web if I could. Oh well.” Deinos snorted again, flapping her large wings out several times, kicking up dust and tiny pebbles from around her. “Well, I suppose that was a warm-up. It could have been worse, I suppose. Only one of you might have come here. It’s certainly been better than those few who have been lured into here in the past. I never did figure out why I was supposed to let that one pony go to spread the tale of the Pony of Shadows.”

Deinos’ words were weird. She was saying things that made no sense to Trixie. However, Trixie had little attention to decipher them, as she was busy pulling Red Wings around the chamber, maneuvering over to Windspeaker and Iceheart. Opposite Trixie was Noire and Stonehenge, also moving to converge in the same location. Unlike the flamestorm and the rock tornado, the ice lance had done little damage to the floor as it was let loose on Deinos, leaving it the most stable part remaining of the hall.

“Ah?” Deinos raised her eyebrows, golden eyes once more spinning in obvious anticipation. “You foals still have some fight left in you? Good, good. Make it count. I may have been waiting one thousand years, but waiting several months more for those other foals to show will be so boring.”

I’m tired of her, Trixie thought. I’m tired of her babbling. Tired of her shadows. Tired of her mocking us. Just once, I want to knock her off haughty throne. Will it be different this time? It must be. I’ll show her the might of The Great and Powerful Trixie!

The six ponies who had journeyed to the castle together assembled at last. It had only been a few minutes since they were split apart, but those few minutes had felt like a lifetime in front of the relentless onslaught of the tyrannical alicorn that stood before them. Trixie’s friends had come with her intending to fight a kingdom. Instead, they had stumbled upon a far more visceral threat than Princesses intending to shut down a potential ascension. Already, they were tired. Trixie could see splatters of blood on each of them, sans Red Wings, whose coat hid the blood. Some of it was from Deinos’ attacks, and some from the backlash of their own. Each pony was still gasping for air after the last attack. Trixie felt sweat matting her own forehead, threatening to sting her eyes.

Trixie’s protective instincts flared. There may have been no escaping Deinos, but Trixie would not have signalled the next attack to attempt if she hadn’t seem a potential way to hit Deinos.

Each of them quickly fell into formation. Trixie took the centre of the formation, while Noire and Red Wings flanked her at either side. Iceheart stood in front, forming the arrowpoint, while Stonehenge and Windspeaker stood at the rear. Trixie felt Windspeaker may have fit better in her position in this formation, thanks to the Living Wind, but it had been designed to be the team’s ultimate attack. If it was to be deployed against a foe who warranted such a powerful attack, she was the only with the magic and the stamina to execute it. As the heart of the six, it was her duty as well. It was Trixie, after all, who was the one seeking apotheosis.

Trixie had hoped to never deploy this against any of the Equestria Princesses, or whatever other imposing allies they may have been able to call upon. Trixie still didn’t. At least if they had to, it would get a trial run in a real fight first.

“Hmmm? How interesting. I wish I could know the little details, but alas. Come now, show me what you’ve got! Just don’t be surprised when you fail. After all, nothing can pierce through my shadows!” Deinos boasted, flapping her wings to achieve lift, hovering over the single remaining section of floor in the damaged area of the throne room around her. The shadows that had guarded her through the entire battle sprouted out of her back once more, with four extra limbs appearing to once more make the alicorn a spider-pony hybrid. Deinos’ eyes were spinning with so much verve that to look at them was as if to stare into a kaleidoscope, the gold of her glowing pupils still so haunting in its vividness.

“Everypony, listen to me,” Trixie spoke to her friends, trying to muster up their courage. She could taste bits and pieces of despair in the air on her tongue. It was a horrible feeling, and she knew if they didn’t succeed with this next strike, everypony’s morale would plummet. Trixie had to rally their spirits. “Deinos is tough, yes. She’s an alicorn, yes. But we knew we might have to fight alicorns before. We didn’t expect to fight this alicorn, but an alicorn Deinos is nonetheless. We planned on how to fight and defeat the Princesses if we had to, so she can be beaten as well. Notice how she’s been saying how her shadows are invincible, and she turned into shadows herself when we attacked her before? It’s because Deinos herself is vulnerable. Between the six of us together, I know we can beat her shadows this time and expose her for what she is!”

The speech worked. Trixie could feel the wariness and despair diminish. It was still there, under the surface, but it was much repressed. Trixie exhaled, relieved. Truth be told, she knew this was likely their last chance. If this failed, Trixie had a few more ideas, but they were all unlikely to succeed.

Deinos reared up on her hind legs while in mid-air, kicking her front legs out, and threw her head back. She laughed. It was slow at first, a soft chuckle, but then it built up into a crescendo. “Hohohoho!” She cackled, letting out that same belly-deep laugh that had rattled the six before. “Amusing, amusing. You ponies are all so amusing! If only you weren’t destined to die here today, I would have kept you around as my jesters! Very well,” said Deinos, bringing her front legs down, but still hovering in the air. “Show me what you have got. Make it count.”

Trixie didn’t need the tyrannical alicorn to tell her what to do. Slowly, she started to cast her magic. Behind her, she felt Windspeaker’s magic activate as well, and beside her, Noire’s own magic began to be unleashed as well. The cool, gentle caress of the Living Wind brushed Trixie’s horn, and she felt it give her control of the immediate surroundings.

Suddenly, the world became more vibrant. The colours became richer in the moonlight, with every grey, blue, and purple suddenly coming in a thousand shades, helping to differentiate the shade of Deinos’ coat ever slightly more from Princess Twilight Sparkle’s. Trixie could feel every little current of air, from the breezes coming in through the holes of the castle, to the lift and drafts created by the subtle beats of Deinos’ wings, to each pony’s wispy inhalation and exhalation. Her sense of sound, too, was magnified a hundredfold, as she could still hear the faintest echoes of Deinos’ earlier mad laughter through the castle. Even the magic glow on Trixie’s horn generated sound, a pleasant buzz that always chased away any doldrums Trixie had.

Trixie swallowed, unused to this sensation, having only felt it a few times before in practice. This is what Windspeaker could feel all the time, if he were to give himself over completely to the Living Wind. As the pony who had helped heal Windspeaker of the Gordian knot that bound his life force to the Living Wind, Trixie was the only other one who was capable of being in touch with the Living Wind to this degree, yet she still had less than a thousandth of the control Windspeaker did. Iceheart was the only other pony who could even utilise the Living Wind.

She shook her head, chasing away those errant thoughts. Instead, Trixie paid more attention to Deinos. To Trixie’s disturbance, Deinos’ shadows generated absolutely no noise. Even the alicorn’s body seemed to be faint to the Living Wind. That was unsurprising, given that alicorns were supposedly a higher existence than the Living Wind. Somehow, only Deinos’ ever-present golden eyes made more noise than the rest of her body. It took a great deal of willpower for Trixie not to look up and get trapped staring at that hypnotic gaze. Trixie had never met Discord, but she had heard he had golden pupils. She wondered if Deinos had inherited this from him.

Trixie felt to her side and her rear, and quickly, Noire’s magic and Windspeaker’s magic joined together with her own, guided by the Living Wind. Quickly, it subsumed the magic that Stonehenge had gathered beneath his hooves, channeling his own more subtle Earth pony magic. Finally, Red Wings’ internal pegasus magic easily joined, his wings giving him an easy connection with the Living Wind. The magic of four other ponies joined Trixie’s, and the pink glow of her horn grew ever brighter, threatening to illuminate every last dim corner of the castle.

“Oh? How interesting. Perhaps they’ll make a good impression,” Trixie heard Deinos murmur, but the azure unicorn paid it no heed. Instead, Trixie continued to build up more magic. In any other fight, Trixie would have executed this technique right away, but because Deinos was cockily allowing her the time to build up more magic, Trixie would take the opportunity. She strained, calling up more and more magic still. With a delicate hoof, Trixie balanced the magic out, making it equal parts unicorn magic and pegasus magic, and calculated exactly how much of a deficit of Earth pony magic she should have.

Trixie suddenly reared up on her hooves, and let out a whinny. It was a wild, primal whinny, one she hadn’t let out since the days she had wandered freely among Equestria as a travelling showmare. It was the whimsical cry of freedom, a call to hooves to all adventurers possessed with wanderlust. It was the epitome of what Trixie was.

Then Trixie slammed down on her front hooves, her horn pointed forward. A large pink ball of magic leapt from her horn, shooting straight into Iceheart. The former commander was stoic even as her body convulsed with concentrated magic, the spell working its way from dock to chest. The magic transformed, absorbing Iceheart’s own power, before a bluish-white mass of energy suddenly leapt out of her. Under Trixie’s enhanced eyes, it was beautiful enough to bring tears to her eyes, as the beam suddenly descended upon Deinos.

Deinos floated in mid-air there, watching the beam as it encroached upon her. Shadows suddenly moved in front of her, forming a solid black wall that completely blocked vision of the madmare from in front. It was the strongest barrier Deinos had created with her shadows thus far, and all present held their breath, waiting to see which was stronger — the energy beam cast from the magic of six friends, or the mass of shadows.

Then the beam struck the shield, and Deinos screamed.

A purple blur flew backwards from Deinos’ position, instantly slamming into a pillar, only to smash the pillar in half, as Deinos continued her trajectory away from the centre of the throne room, and breaking out a wall into the outdoors. More moonlight trickled in through the hole that had been created by Deinos’ unceremonious exit. Even though the alicorn had already gone outdoors, a piercing screech could still be heard, cutting through the still outdoor air.

Trixie let out a large gasp of air, then quickly breathed in again, unaware she had been holding her breath. That wasn’t a cry of surprise Trixie heard. It was obvious Deinos was hurt.

“We...we got her,” Stonehenge said, echoing everypony’s thoughts. He, too, sagged in relief.

“No,” Iceheart said, standing up even as Deinos’ voice became fainter. She didn’t allow her body to falter, even though the other five knew she was exhausted, having channeled the magical power of five other ponies. The Crystal Earth pony once more showed why she had been chosen as a commander of a fort in the Frozen North, as Iceheart was the picture of poise. “She was hurt, but I can tell. That wasn’t enough to put her down. She’ll be back. Quickly, everypony. We need to intercept her.”

A wave of exhaustion swept through Trixie’s body. She desperately wanted to just flop to the ground, and roll over onto her back and fall asleep to the sight of the stars through the holes in the castle roof. Trixie knew that Iceheart was correct, however. With legs made of lead, she quickly reassembled herself, moving into another formation that could counterattack against both a magical attack or a close-quarters melee strike.

Deinos’ voice stopped getting fainter, and suddenly began to get louder and louder. Within seconds, the equine blew back through the wall she had just been hurled through. It was clear Deinos was out-of-sorts, as she charged straight through the brick masonry, sending more stones flying. The wall didn’t slow her down in the slightest as she charged through. The six quickly stood on guard, ready to turn Deinos’ next attack back upon her.

Suddenly, Deinos stopped, floating right above the small patch of ground that she had been standing on before, a single pillar of floor left with a circular trench around it. The alicorn lowered herself down, letting her hooves touch the stone. Deinos’ sudden stop allowed Trixie to observe the other pony’s state. Dust and plaster coated Deinos, giving her a layer of grey colouring. Her mane was frazzled, with many strands of hair standing up. Blood matted her fur in a dozen spots, though they were all practically nicks. The body of an alicorn was truly a formidable one, taking only small cuts from such a large impact.

What was more important was the changes in Deinos’ temperament. Trixie could see her wings tremoring. Most tellingly, the shadows around Deinos’ were agitated, moving randomly in every which way. Whether the shadows were moving around on their own or if Deinos’ mood was affecting them, Trixie couldn’t tell. She wondered if it was a good thing that they were moving like that. The shadows might be more chaotic now, but that could make them more dangerous than before. Oddly, Deinos’ golden eyes, which always seemed to be rotating to some degree, had slowed down, almost at a complete stop.

“How? H-how did yo—” Deinos stammered angrily before she stopped. Her voice had cracked after having been hit by the magical beam, potentially from when she had screeched out in pain. She let out a ‘urgh-hem’ to clear her throat, before speaking again. “No. I get it. You took advantage of how my shadows work. They can act on its own, or I can control them. I forgot you were able to cast illusions, you sneaky little bitch. You never once used one since you came in. You used one to make me think my shadows already had formed a shield around me, so I kept the rest of my shadows on reserve. But that was just it, wasn’t it? You tricked me. None of my shadows were protecting me yet, so all of my shadows were under control, and I kept them to the side. If I had let them do its own thing from the start, it would have instinctively known the shadows up there were not real and gone up to actually defend me. Clever, clever.”

Trixie felt herself become disoriented. She had hoped Deinos hadn’t seen through the illusion, but she had. It meant Trixie wouldn’t be able to use it again. All she could hope for was that their attack could even pierce through a real shadow shield and injure Deinos again.

Deinos flapped her wings, shaking off the layer of dust that had settled into her coat. She let out a brief cough, then spat out a dollop of blood onto the ground. “But what was that attack? It felt so...oh. I see.” For once, Deinos focused her gaze on Trixie, and Trixie stood her ground. She had just injured an alicorn, a metaphorical goddess among ponies. She would not be cowed. “You balanced each aspect of your magic, unicorn, earth pony, and pegasus, attempting to harmonise it to perfection. The magic you inherited as a changeling-pony hybrid could be used to offset it if any part got too powerful. You could have cast the magic directly, but instead, you sent it through her as a focus point,” Deinos said, motioning at Iceheart. “As a pony who lived in the Crystal Empire for so many years, her body has taken on some qualities of the Crystal Heart, like being able to refract magic sent through her body as a medium. Then, combined with her ability to tolerate the cold, using the Living Wind as a guide, you bent it towards an ice magic aspect. You were incorrect in calculating how to balance how much Earth pony magic she would contribute to the spell, leaving it unbalanced. But every touch closer you got, the stronger the spell would get. Perhaps you were hoping even if my shadows had intercepted the spell, it would be antithetical to my powers, since I had said before only Harmony could defeat me. It may be a faux-Harmony, but it was close enough. Now.” Deinos smirked, having laid out exactly how the magic spell worked. “Did I make any mistakes there?”

This time, Trixie’s heart truly shook. Deinos had perfectly analysed the spell. When Trixie and her friends had been developing this unnamed spell, they had indeed found that Iceheart made the perfect vessel to focus the spell through. The core of the spell was also modelled after the Harmony that had bound Equestria for over a thousand years. It wasn’t a spell that could be replicated by any other. Only six ponies such as them who had come together and travelled could pool their bonds together and unleash such a devastating attack. Yet the wretched madmare had a preternatural talent at shrugging off every attempt they had made tonight.

Still, Deinos had been totally correct in her observations, and that included that the spell that had been cast was indeed imperfect. Trixie had been off in her calculations on balancing out the magical powers before it was sent through Iceheart. She had never once gotten it perfect in practice, either, but she had come close. From her trial runs, Trixie knew something Deinos did not: though the balance of Earth pony magic may have only been marginally off, correcting it did not lead to a linear increase in the spell. Instead, it became exponentially more powerful.

Trixie resolved her will. There was a chance. Even if Deinos couldn’t be fooled by Trixie’s illusions anymore and would always have her shadows up, Trixie felt the rondo of six friends would be able to overpower the shadows. Under a perfect application of the spell, would even the Pony of Shadows be able to get back up?

Her reverie was interrupted by Deinos again laughing. For once, it didn’t sound menacing. It actually sounded pleasant, the sort of soft laughter Trixie thought Deinos could have made if she was a normal pony and not a bloodthirsty predator. “You truly impress me, my little ponies. You have achieved the limits of what your destiny has allowed you. I hope you have a better go of it the next time around.”

Suddenly, Trixie was struck with a thought. Throughout the entire fight, Deinos had said strange things that made little sense. But just a minute ago, the alicorn had deduced something using knowledge she couldn’t possibly have had.

She made to speak, only for Red Wings to beat her to the punch. “What are you talking about?” the red pegasus asked, frustration evident in his voice. “You’ve been babbling nonsense all night. You’ve mentioned a ‘they’ or a ‘them’ several times. Who is this other pony or ponies you’re talking about? And what’s this about destiny?”

Deinos chuckled. Her golden eyes, which had been rotating slowly ever since she had flown back into the throne room, began to speed up. “Ah, you ignorant, naive foals. I’ve been waiting to hear that question for—”

“How did you know I can use illusions?” Trixie asked.

Deinos stopped talking.

“I’ve thought about what we said when we came in earlier. Maybe you could have pieced together what the Living Wind was from what we said earlier, since you somehow knew what it was. And you could have figured out that I was able to use illusions, but only after I actually used one. But no. You said you forgot that I could use illusions. Yet you have never left this castle since you were born. You said it yourself,” said Trixie, at last trapping Deinos in her own words. “Maybe your shadows could act like the Living Wind, and eavesdrop from afar, but then there were little things that you should have known about us but didn’t.”

“Finally. Finally!” Deinos yelled. “Finally you ask the right questions!” She started to paw at the small spot of floor in front of her, then started pacing back and forth on the little pillar that remained. Deinos seemed agitated. As quickly as she started pacing, Deinos stopped, facing Trixie and her friends again. “Where to start…? Ah, I know. I said that I was born a plunderseed, and Nightmare Moon’s magic made me more.” She looked up at the ceiling, looking out a particularly large hole to the starscape above, mirroring the same action Deinos had done when she had earlier talked about her birth. “That is the story the world will know about my origins, as the offspring of two earlier menaces that had returned after a thousand-year imprisonment. It is the legend they will tell in yet another thousand years, when I have etched my place in history. In truth, like your little wind user was saying, that story...is a lie.”

“Wait, wh—” Trixie, and indeed everypony else started, only to be cut off by Deinos, who continued to speak.

“Haven’t you ever wondered how it is that this planet was at peace for so long, for nearly a thousand years, only for so much to happen in a mere few years?” Deinos asked, looking back down at the six friends. “Nightmare Moon returned from the moon. Discord broke free from petrification. The changelings, secluded away for so long, attempted a daring invasion and occupation of Canterlot. The Crystal Empire returned from its enforced stasis, with King Sombra in tow. The plunderseeds grew to life, leeching away at the Tree of Harmony. Lord Tirek escaped from Tartarus and ravaged Equestria. Threats have popped up in other lands, with some spilling over into this realm.”

Trixie was startled. She had just been thinking mere minutes ago about the same things Deinos was now voicing. The unicorn felt a chill down her spine. Trixie was suddenly wary of Deinos’ next words. Deinos had seized control of the conversation, and Trixie was unable to slip the reins she was being led by.

Deinos looked back up again, but this time, her gaze didn’t seem to linger upon the stars. Instead, it seemed to pierce the stars, finding something beyond. “In this world, there are gods. Not like your feeble pony princesses, but actual gods, as far above your princesses as they are above, say, ants. Entities the likes of which the concept of omnipotence, omnipresence, and omniscience were created for us mere mortals to be able to fathom their existence. Hehehe,” Deinos laughed, looking back down. Her muzzle was wide open. To Trixie’s horror, she could see the Pony of Shadows really had fangs. “It is the job of the gods to watch over the cosmos until the end of existence, in order that they may eventually sort the souls of those in the lower domain.”

Deinos’ words hit the six like a sledgehammer. At first, they were slow in comprehending what she was speaking of, as it was so unexpected. Once they did, the implications floored them.

“In that pantheon of immortal deities there exist three sisters known as the Mœræ siblings. Together, by hoof, claw, and paw, they spin the very essence of the universe onto their spinning wheel, measuring out the individual threads, and cutting them off. It is they who determine the machinations of common equines such as you. Why, you could even call this destiny,” Deinos cackled, before letting out a wild neigh.

Her neigh quickly died down, but utter silence greeted it. Deinos surveyed her opponents. All she found were slack-jawed expressions with muzzles hanging open. She had truly delivered a stunning revelation. Deinos’ golden eyes began to spin even faster. What expression could be read from those accursed eyes showed a giddy glee, as she continued. “I am an agent of the Mœræ, sent back to this world to plunge it into fire and brimstone and start history all over again. A thousand years ago, they placed me here in the aftermath of the battle between the two sisters that tore this castle asunder. Intruders have come and gone over the years. Many are those that I did not interfere with. Some I killed for my own ends. Under the order of the Fates Three, there were a rare few I let escape my hooves so that they could spread the legend of the Pony of Shadows living in the Castle of the Two Sisters. I never understood why I was supposed to do that. Maybe they desire for every great threat to this world to have been seen ahead of time, if not understood? Perhaps that is why they allow a select few the gift of prophecy.”

At last, Deinos stopped talking.

Trixie struggled to even understand what Deinos was saying. The alicorn had just dumped cold water on them with information that fundamentally redefined how they were to view the world, absolutely obliterating their current theological understanding. What was more, Deinos was saying everything in a cryptic manner, and coupled with the alicorn’s somewhat archaic speech patterns, Trixie had no idea what she said was true and what was false. Her story of being an agent of gods sounded even more absurd than being birthed from a plunderseed. An immortal pantheon of deities? That was in the realm of possible, but what she said about destiny was...

“This is insanity!” Stonehenge roared, stomping his hoof on the floor. “Gods above us? OK, I am no disbeliever in an even higher power, but for our lives to be preordained, for them to control our every action? No, I cannot believe that! We are our own ponies!” The large stallion was unknowingly echoing Trixie’s own thoughts.

Red Wings took over right as soon as Stonehenge finished. He was similarly agitated. “You’re saying that gods exist, and that they want to destroy this world? That makes no sense! Why would they want to do that? What is more, what just god or goddess would employ a pony such as you? You have attempted to kill us ever since you showed yourself!” The questions spilled out like mad, as the red pegasus was in a frenzy. He had recalled a conversation he had once long ago with Trixie, about hating the notion of destiny if it meant losing his wing had been foretold.

“Ohohohohoho!” Deinos reared up on her back hooves for a few seconds, cackling uncontrollably, before slamming her hooves back into the ground. What was more, Deinos no longer looked frazzled, nor were her shadows pulsating and moving at random. The injuries she had received from before had since regenerated. “Just? Just?! Whoever said the gods were just! All of creation is a model to sort out souls by how exemplary their actions and morals are in life! They would have me plunge this world into a fiery cataclysm, and bring all of society back to its prehistoric days, just so they could see how our frayed threads would perform under harsher circumstances! The gods do not want us to advance into a utopia of everlasting peace, for they could never determine our strength of will then! Well...I suppose you are right, in a sense. If they were just and righteous, then they could have chosen any pony, but instead they chose me and my sisters!”

“Your sisters?” Noire unwittingly asked, before her eyes widened. Noire knew she was letting Deinos continue to control the conversation. Her mislip of the tongue would be costly.

“Yes,” said Deinos, before she did something strange. She let out a wistful sigh. From the bloodthirsty alicorn who had attacked and mocked them ever since her appearance, it was an odd sound. How could they juxtapose Deinos, the Pony of Shadows, with Deinos, the pony who suddenly appeared melancholic? Following the mood, even Deinos’ golden eyes began to decelerate, coming to a slow crawl. “Me and my sisters were born many, many years ago, in the city-state of Thrace. You would not know of it. Thrace is a land long since forgotten by history. It is a tale that is no longer relevant, but we became soldiers in the army of Thrace, serving under our lord-commander Diomedes. Under him, the four of us became the fearless Mares of Diomedes.”

Like she had several times before, Deinos once more looked up at the sky. This time, with the knowledge of true gods that the madmare served, the action became far more meaningful to the six opposite her. “We sisters even each gained our own individual epithets. Podargos the Swift, the eldest. Xanthos the Yellow, the second-youngest. Lampon the Bright, the youngest. And I, Deinos the Wondrous, the second-eldest.” Deinos looked back down again, smirking. “You know, our language pre-dated even old Equestrian. My appellation the Wondrous can be translated two different ways. I’m quite smitten with the second option: I, Deinos the Terrible.”

A soft tinge of malice had infiltrated Deinos’ tone of voice at the end, as she once more cut a sinister figure. Deinos’ implication was all too obvious. Still, she continued talking to a captive audience. “We were the best. With our many successes, us sisters held our heads up higher and higher with pride. Then one day, in our pride and folly, we committed a sin so great that even the gods, normally passive in their realm of Phantasia, were compelled to act. The souls of us mortals are supposed to live and live again, being returned to the great spinning wheel of the Mœræ until the end of creation, so that they can judge us from many lifetimes instead of a mere one. Instead, they plucked our four threads out of the cycle of reincarnation as punishment.”

Deinos sniffed, her voice breaking up for the second time in the evening. Trixie was startled to see a more equine side of the Pony of Shadows. However, she had no empathy for Deinos. The alicorn had not done a single thing to afford her any pity, especially not after Deinos mentioned committing a great sin. “Over thousands and thousands of years, each of us had to serve many penaces. My sisters sinned in a lesser severity than I did, and have already been released, passing on to the great pastures beyond. For them, there is no further chance. At least they have finally been freed from their serfhood. As for me, here I sit, bored, waiting a thousand monotonous years before finally I am allowed to act.”

“What—” Windspeaker swallowed the question on his lips. He wasn’t even sure what to do anymore, still staggered and trying to absorb everything Deinos had just said. Windspeaker was no fool, and he knew that Deinos was taking far too much pleasure in her storytelling. She wanted them to ask questions, so that she could lay on even more truths of how the world worked, and again overturn their beliefs. Deinos had been since the very first time she had off-hoofedly mentioned she was born over a thousand years ago. However, Deinos had completely figured out their spell from earlier, and they had no trump cards left. While he was already beginning to feel his perception slip from Deinos’ mind-boggling words, at least when she was speaking, Deinos wasn’t trying to kill them. So Windspeaker made the decision to ask. “What was the sin your sisters committed? What could have been so terrible that these gods would punish you?”

Deinos grinned. This time, it wasn’t a mere twist of the lips. Instead, she curled her lips back, showing off her entire row of her teeth. Windspeaker had seen it once already, but he shuddered at the look of the several fangs in her row of teeth. Normal ponies didn’t have those. “The Mœræ found some sort of cruel irony to grant me these fangs of mine with my alicorn body. Our sin was eating meat.”

“Eating meat?!” Noire squawked out in a wild surprise. “What god would condemn you to an eternal punishment for eating meat?!” While eating meat was taboo to most ponies, excepting fish, Noire could not fathom how it was such a blasphemous sin as Deinos was describing.

“Oh, that,” Deinos said with a mischievous glint in her golden eyes. The alicorn smacked her lips, a disturbing noise not unlike the sound of metal screeching against metal. “Equine flesh is so, so good. Nothing stimulates the sense when their heartsblood still pumps and gives it that fresh, juicy flavour.”

It took Noire a few seconds to understand Deinos’ words. Then, Noire stumbled, feeling nauseous. “Oh,” she whimpered, her stomach suddenly doing flip-flops.

“You—you ate other ponies?” Trixie asked, horrified. She felt light-headed, barely able to stay on her hooves. Trixie found it difficult to breathe, as there was an enormous lump in her throat that she could not swallow away. A violent storm churned her stomach as Trixie felt the urge to vomit.

“We did. Interrogations went very quickly. Nothing quite scares a war-stallion like feeling his enemy take a bite out of his flesh.” Deinos said. To everypony else’s continued disturbance, she licked her teeth and lips in what could have passed for a sultry motion, if only they could get rid of the mental image of blood soaking her muzzle. “Or of course, when you slice part of his flesh away, and cook it. Mmmm, the sizzle it makes when you drop it into a hot pan and fry it in oil, or the tenderness when you boil it for hours, or the smell when you cook it over a fire, fresh blood dripping out, or—”

“Stop! Just stop!” Windspeaker shouted. The unicorn was the first to finally lose control of his stomach, as he stumbled a few steps away, and retched out onto the floor. He thanked providence that they had not eaten around the fire earlier, or Windspeaker would have deposited more than a few small chunks of food and stomach acid.

“So soft-hearted you ponies are. Peace has addled your senses,” Deinos said scornfully. “Several thousand years has turned great equinity into a weak breed. Really, the same goes for all species.”

“Even the Witch King Sombra didn’t eat other ponies, and he was every inch a monster!” Iceheart said. Her purple fur had paled. Even Iceheart was affected by Deinos’ words.

“Hmm, lucky him. Cannibalism, or even the devouring of other sapient species, is rare, at least to the extent we four did to be punished. But the rot goes deep for the weakness. You ponies are weak. Your society is weak. This world is weak. Regular ponies are no longer capable of fighting, and rely instead on mystical forces they know little of to save them. No more. Hohohohoho. The gods may have considered this a punishment for my meat-eating ways, but I wonder. After all, destiny brought you all into this castle.”

The six ponies opposite Deinos all took a step back. The implication of what she meant by that could not be missed, not after talking at length about eating the flesh of others.

Unbidden, Trixie remembered a conversation from a long time ago.

"Of course, if destiny does exist, I suppose I'd like it in a physical form in front of me right now so I could buck it in the face."

"You wouldn't like being able to blame your actions against Pri—uh, her on destiny?"

"Oh. Oh. Yeah, that would do it. I'd be angry at destiny too in that event."

Just a few seconds ago, Trixie had stepped back, intimidated by Deinos. Now she took a step forward. “You speak of destiny like it’s the be-all end-all. I refuse to believe that the edict of gods above is responsible for our entire lives. I...I struggled, I fought tooth-and-hoof for so many days, months, years, to get where I am. I am my own mare. My accomplishments are my own! I will not let you take that away from me!”

“It’s interesting you say that, actually,” Deinos said, turning on Trixie. “For even though you do not realise it, today is your finest hour.”

“My what?” Trixie asked, confused.

Deinos swept a hoof out, taking in all six ponies that were lined up at the base of the stairs leading up to the organ Deinos herself had been playing earlier. “Take a look around you. There are six of you. I said it before, did I not? You were destined to come here. Your friends, on the other hoof, only had the possibility. You foals are thinking of destiny as ‘the Mœræ control your every action’, but then what would the point of creation be if our every action were already decided? The gods would rather languish in Phantasia if that were the case. Neigh. Certain things are set in stone, such as your appearance here today, but only yours and yours alone. In between these hard points, your actions and decisions are yours. You could have failed to break your sister out of her morass in Whinnychester, and left without her.”

“Perhaps you would have adventured to the frozen north next, where you would attempt and be unsuccessful at destroying the remains of the Windigos, dashing the hopes of the local fortress commander. Then you would have travelled to southern Equestria, visiting the changeling hive your father hailed from. There, you would have met a one-winged pegasus, and the two of you would depart ways after. Maybe at least one of those times, you would have succeeded, in which case the Living Wind would have guided you to Manechester, and then potentially thereafter you would have gone to Canterlot. But if after visiting the hive, you hadn’t once advanced in your magic or gained any new friends, you would have gone directly to Colt Springs. You would eventually surpass that old husk’s trials, and then you would come to this castle as a broken mare, with little to show for your talent with illusions. Perhaps you wouldn’t even know how to teleport. There, well, then I would appear.”

“But that didn’t happen. You improved your magic and made a new friend every step of the way. You could perhaps consider that your ‘soft’ destiny, the parts of your life that you had your own control over, and you did the absolute best that was possible. It is these in-between moments that truly count. Each thread, each soul, will be forever reincarnated. At the very end of creation, every soul will finally be sorted for its accomplishments through all its lives. The worst souls, even the truly damned like me and my sisters, will not be punished, but the best will be rewarded, perhaps even given a chance to step into Phantasia. Good job. To come as far as you did, you have uplifted yourself and your friends. It isn’t enough to come out on top, of course. But maybe in your next life, and the life thereafter, you will continue to perform enough deeds that your soul will separate itself and rise to the top.”

It was an overwhelming deluge of information that slammed into Trixie like the Friendship Express. I could have come here without ever meeting anypony except for Noire and Red Wings, and failing to even connect with them? Trixie thought, looking around at her five greatest friends. I could have been a broken mare? Deinos’ words were suspicious, but Trixie had to give them credence. She could easily see it happening. After the break-up with the Alicorn Amulet, Trixie had often gone through the motions of day-to-day living on autopilot. Finding out about the death of her father compounded Trixie’s woe. It had taken Trixie years to rebuild herself into something approaching normalcy. If not for her own strength of will, she may truly have done as Deinos said, and walked into this castle one day by herself, with fool notions of becoming something more.

Trixie had come such a long way. She had turned a happenstance powerful talent in conjuring illusions into something that defied the imaginations. Trixie had healed some ponies of their ills, and broken others of toxic bonds to family, duty, or magic that would eventually have subsumed them. Trixie wanted to continue to feel that joy she experienced every time her illusions helped a pony. Trixie wished to fulfill the pledge she had made to Anfang, progenitor of changelings, to bring together the pony and changeling race.

And so Trixie could not be stopped here by a mere mad alicorn. At last, Trixie had achieve complete self-absolution of all her earlier sins in life. That encounter with Altrix in the Pool of Reflections below the Colt Springs hive had helped heal her, but in this moment, Trixie finally felt her past and present were as one. Trixie felt a keen serenity, a self-actualisation. This moment in time was one where she could face Deinos and use her status as an alicorn to fool Trixie herself into ascension.

“That is relieving to know,” Trixie admitted, glad that at least destiny was not all-pervasive, and she had some control. “But I will not, cannot stop there. I, we, will defeat you, Deinos.”

There was an eerie silence. Then Deinos snorted. “You truly do not get it, do you, you utter foal?”

“Get what?” Trixie demanded. “So what if you’re supported by the gods? So what if you’re an alicorn? I’ve said before that if destiny appears in front of me, I’ll buck destiny in the face. I once travelled as the Great and Powerful Trixie. It would be Trixie’s greatest ever show to do just that!” Deinos’ speech may have been meant to break Trixie, but Trixie had trudged on through ice and sand, and struggled against stone and wind. Trixie had the power of her illusions, sharpened and then refined through the course of most of a year. Anfang’s words once more rung through Trixie’s head. To become an alicorn, Trixie had to fight one.

Deinos shook her head. Her golden eyes suddenly spun faster than ever. “‘Great and Powerful’? Discard that title. It doesn’t suit you anymore. I said it before. After today, I shall lure the six ponies who once held the Elements of Harmony into this castle and devour them. With their deaths, I will go out into the world, and cause a cataclysm that shall set everything back ten thousand years. They will know me as being the bastard spawn of Discord and Nightmare Moon, a force of anti-Harmony. Why would I have told you everything about the gods above and my true story if you had a chance to win?”

There it was. The thing Trixie had been ignoring this entire time. Deinos had spoken at great lengths of destiny and her own role as an agent of the goddesses that controlled it, but she was supposed to have a different background. There was only one reason why she would have broken away from the masquerade. Time slowed to a crawl as Trixie watched Deinos open her mouth again, ready to deliver the denouement.

“You were destined to come here today. My little pony, you were destined to die here today.”

Suddenly, Deinos moved.

There was almost no time to react. Even if Trixie was able to move, she would have never been able to dodge. Deinos hadn’t leapt, or jumped, or flown like a normal pony or even an alicorn may have. It was the pounce of a predator, with a smooth, ethereal grace only a mortal touched by a goddess could possibly possess. But that wasn’t why Trixie would never have been able to dodge. It was because this wasn’t a physical attack, or a magical one. It was an empyreal assault. At that moment, Trixie finally internalised and truly believed Deinos’ words, for the essence of the empyrean force that locked her down didn’t paralyse her body or her magic, but her very soul.

Out of the corner of her eye, a flash of red could be seen moving towards her, trying to intercept the impending attack. “Trixie!”

Then Deinos reached Trixie. There was no pain. There was no blood. Indeed, Trixie didn’t feel anything but for a deep cold, as Deinos melded through her body, like a ghost, before exiting her out the other side.

“Oh.”

Trixie collapsed to the floor.

“Trixie! TRIXIE!”

“And then there were five.”

With that, Trixie died.

‘Hello, Trixie.’

Castle: End of an Era

‘Hello, Trixie.’

She remembered this place. It was a land without definition. There was no scenery, there was no background. There was no white or black or grey or any of a myriad of colours for her eyes to lay upon. It just was. Only the souls of the dead had presence here.

‘Hello father,' Trixie greeted.

Only to realise there was another pony here.

‘M-mother?!’ Trixie asked, shook.

It had been so long since Trixie had seen her mother, but she recognised the mare at a moment’s look. September Midsummer was larger-than-life in Trixie’s fillyhood memories. The passing of the years only made the heart grow fonder.

‘Hello, Trixie,’ September said. She smiled, and Trixie felt herself weak-kneed as the memories flooded in. A warm spring afternoon, playing in the front yard with her mother, whose vibrant oranges and yellows mirrored the sunset itself. A chilly winter morning, having an impromptu snowball fight with the neighboring foals, her mother bringing her hot chocolate after Trixie was wet soaked. A late fall evening as the sun had gone down, curling up with both her mother and father in front of a roaring fireplace.

The pride in September’s green eyes as she saw Trixie off on the caravan that would take her to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. The reassuring forelimbs that had held Trixie in hugs non-stop for weeks after Trixie returned home, having to drop out to hide the mystery of her changing magical aura colour. The fond smile September had always given her own and only daughter even as she was on her deathbed.

The funeral at which Trixie, still too young to be called a mare, having not yet even gotten her Cutie Mark, had grieved for days and nights on end. The heartbreak that lingered with Trixie even as she grew up into marehood, only temporarily reprieved by her ability to conjure a phantasmal spectre of September, and finally only beginning to truly heal at the Mysterious Magical Maladies in Canterlot when Wooden Chisel had hinted at her presence in the endless rolling field of the great pastures beyond.

‘Oh, mama,’ Trixie bawled, and before she knew it, her mother’s forelimbs were wrapped around her. The sensation was clearly different than Trixie remembered, having still been a filly when her mother last hugged her. Now, her mother was a few inches shorter at the withers, and had to reach up to hug Trixie around the neck. But the love that could be felt in the gesture was still the same, the love of a mother for her daughter.

‘There, there, my little Trixie,’ September cooed, embracing Trixie tightly. Suddenly, Wooden Chisel joined the hug, wrapping a hoof around daughter and wife both. For the first time in many years, the father, mother, and daughter had been reunited. Wooden Chisel could no longer sense emotions, but years of experience helped him understand everypony all around needed a good crying session.

The moment ended. Trixie reluctantly backed out of the family hug. She sniffled, and wiped the tears away from her eyes before they could dry out in the hair of her cheeks. ‘Mother...father…’ Trixie trailed off, unable to find words. However, they came quickly, as the mare recalled what she had just been doing earlier.

‘I’m dead, aren’t I?’ Trixie asked. It was obvious. She could still remember Deinos’ last strike against her, possessed of a mystical energy that went through her body and seized her soul. When Trixie was last in this realm, there was a difference of ‘realness’ between her and her father. Now that difference had shrivelled up.

‘Yes, you are.’

Trixie sighed, and sat down on her haunches. There was no discernible floor in this world of infinite nothingness, but sitting down she nonetheless did. ‘Well, it was a good effort. I practically pioneered a new field of magic and made some great friends and challenged a goddess.’ Trixie’s bitterness at her end was obvious in her tone of voice.

‘You sound disappointed,’ said September.

‘No. Not disappointed. Well, yes. Disappointed. Disappointed in myself,’ Trixie admitted. ‘I failed. My magical abilities and the idea behind it will disappear with nopony to know about it except for a few changelings who can never replicate it. But no, I mean, I failed my friends. Deinos...she’s still down there. I was the core. I know them, everypony except for maybe Windspeaker is disciplined enough to keep fighting. But I know Deinos won’t let them live. I wish I could have continued to help them fight back. But destiny truly is a fickle mistress.’

‘It is,’ Wooden Chisel agreed. The last time Trixie had met her father, there had been an odd flicker between his true changeling body and his assumed pony identity. Now he stood tall as a unicorn, with a black coat and grey mane. Around his wife, it was obvious what his self-identity now was. ‘When we last met, there were many things I could not have told you. For you to brush the astral realm was something amazing, but you would never be allowed to know the true secrets of the dead. We have watched as you fought Deinos. What she says about the purpose of existence is true. Our lives are a test for all of us, to see the potential of our souls. The three sisters weave a web that sprawls across all creation to assess the gestalt of our lives at the very end.’

September agreed. ‘What we know now allows us to know you did the very best you possible could, Trixie. To be honest, in life, I was always miserable that you were never able to find any true friends. Oh, you had the fillies and colts in Whinnychester that you played with, but I could tell you wanted something more. Even as you returned from Canterlot, you yearned to break free of our idle little village. It made me happy you were able to find five companions you could call your best friends forever, one of them perhaps something more.’

Trixie swallowed. She recalled Deinos’ words about her five friends. In an alternate world, Trixie might have come to the Castle of the Two Pony Sisters with no friends at all. To get to that point, it would almost certainly have meant Trixie’s illusions would not have progressed one iota since she left Whinnychester. In that time, perhaps she may even have welcomed Deinos’ appearance.

She was possessed with ennui. ‘So, what now?’

‘We return to the pastures, and we wait,’ said Wooden Chisel. ‘Eventually, one of us will be spun back out into the world. Our reincarnation does not mean we disappear entirely. Our memories still remain, and when we once more perish on the mortal yolk, we will gain yet another life up here. September and I came down to limbo to greet you, but we are not the real September Midsummer and Wooden Chisel, only fragments. Shades, as I told you when we last met. I only remember my life as Cognito the changeling and Wooden Chisel the pony.’ A frown appeared on the black-furred stallion’s face. He was struggling to remember things. ‘There are bits and pieces of previous lives that I can barely make sense of. I think in my last life...I may have been a yak?’

‘I was definitely a gryphon,’ September said. ‘Trixie, you too will gain memories of your past life when we go. It will be strange, and it will be weird. It may be that one of your lives will dominate your memories, and you will go by that identity, instead of Trixie the unicorn mare from Whinnychester, daughter of September Midsummer and Wooden Chisel. Know that we will always love you.’

Trixie sniffed. 'I love you too, mom, dad.' There would be time for more heartfelt reunions. Trixie shuffled about on her hooves, looking at the ground. 'I just hate this feeling of leaving things undone. I know my friends will be coming up soon, but I am disappointed that this is how it is all to end.'

Wooden Chisel and September Midsummer traded looks, then looked at Trixie. Then Wooden Chisel, the changeling-cum-pony, said six words that changed everything.

‘Would you like to go back?’

‘Of course I would!’ Trixie said, her voice rising as much as limbo would allow. ‘My friends are back there fighting Deinos! I cannot let her win!’

‘But destiny is in her favour,’ said September. ‘You were fated to die today, Trixie. There is no getting past that.’

‘I would figure something out. There has to be something. She was rattled when we threw our combined magic at her. No, not rattled. Deinos was scared. I was unable to synchronise the magic to perfection. If I was able to do it successfully next time, I think we could win.’ Trixie let out a huff. ‘But no, that’s not the issue. I’m dead. That’s it. Maybe my friends can pull something out. I have faith in them to stand up against Deinos until every last hoof is in the grave. But I cannot help them from beyond.’

‘There is a way.’

Trixie jerked, looking up at her father, who had just spoken. ‘No, there can’t be,’ were her first words, immediately spoken on reflex. ‘That’s utter nonsense. Ponies can’t just come back from the dead. No power or magic has ever resurrected a pony. Maybe the gods can, after all, Deinos apparently has memories of several lives in the living world. But they wouldn’t help me, would they? I was supposed to die today.’

Wooden Chisel shook his head. ‘No, they would not. But it is not the gods who would resurrect you. Think, my little Bella. There is something special about you. You, and you alone, have a quality that no pony else ever has. If you can understand it, truly and completely realise its potential, you alone can return.’

‘Woody speaks correctly,’ September said, rubbing up against her husband the faux-unicorn. She set her head against his neck, leaning in on him. Wooden Chisel reciprocated the action. In death, the two lovers were well at peace. ‘Think, my daughter. Live up to your name, little Trixie.’

The younger mare stood there, slackjawed. Trixie could not understand what her parents were talking about. But the two of them seemed confident, so she thought on it. Something special about her? Living up to her name?

Epiphany struck Trixie in that moment, her mind alight and blazing with possibility as if it had been possessed by a thousand fireflies. She jumped up back onto all four. Trixie at last understood what her parents were saying. It felt a fool notion, but then, Trixie had been filled with foolish notions ever since she began her journey. What was one more impossible feat to accomplish on her road to greatness?

‘I...see now,” Trixie said, breathing steady. ‘So...I guess that means it is time for me to go now.”

‘Not quite,’ Wooden Chisel responded. ‘Time moves differently in limbo. You do not need to return this instant. You are right though, there is not much time left. But enough for us to say a few final words.’

Trixie struggled. The situation was still too odd to comprehend, but she followed along. “Mother, father. I missed both of you very much. Even though I got to talk to you again, father, it was too short.’

‘And we missed you,’ September affirmed. ‘This is for your benefit, Trixie. Please remember that we are only shades of the real Wooden Chisel and September Midsummer. When you truly depart to the endless rolling fields of the great pastures beyond, we will fully meet. Even if we are reincarnated back into the lower domain by then, a part of us will still remain, and we still be real. But for now, we are enough of the true thing to know how they would respond. And although I said it before, it bears repeating. I am proud of you, Trixie.’

Trixie stood strong. There were definitely not tears rolling down her cheeks, and she most certainly was not letting out a coughing sob.

‘You have the ambition to become an alicorn. Do not be ashamed of your desire anymore, Trixie. Maybe you have some selfish purposes for it as well, but that is alright. You are indeed only equine. Even the Princesses are still only equine, as divine as being an alicorn may be. I loved your father for every bit of what he was. It made me sad to see the changelings and ponies driven further apart since my lifetime. I know you can help reconcile them, my daughter Trixie, and if the best way to do that is an alicorn, go for it. If your feel you can help heal others of wounds or pains as an alicorn, go for it,’ September encouraged.

‘Oh. There is one other thing,’ said Wooden Chisel. ‘There is that stallion of yours. Red Wings, is it?’

The tears cleared up instantly. Trixie thought her blue fur might become as red as the aforementioned Red Wings. “Y-yessss…’ she said, trailing off.

September took over again. ‘We both approve. He is a healthy young stallion. The affection you show one another is genuine. It reminds me of the two of us, really. If you continue to pursue your relationship, the two of you may have ups and downs. But true love is a beautiful thing, Trixie. Don’t let him get slack. Call out his flaws. But embrace his good side and encourage him the way he has encouraged you.’

Trixie turned her head to face away from her parents. She felt her cheeks becoming heated. ‘I, I will, mother.”

‘Besides,’ September added. ‘At that very last moment, when Deinos killed you, Red Wings was rushing to throw himself in the way. The best partners are those who sacrifice for one another. He is a fool stallion, of course, and fool stallions are wont to get hot-headed sometimes, so you will have to drill it into his fool stallion head not to sacrifice to the point of self-destruction.’ Wooden Chisel, next to her, stayed silent on his wife’s continuous slurring of stallions as being foolish. ‘Maybe you will fall out of love someday, but with the affection and goodwill you two have shown, you can still continue to be good friends. But know that we are both rooting for you to forever be true to one another.’

‘Remember, Bella,’ said Wooden Chisel. ‘Who dares, wins. And you dare. You dare to defy Deinos the Terrible, and you dare to defy even the gods. You will win, for you too shall become great.’

Trixie jerked at her father’s words, before she calmed down. Yes. Hadn’t she left Whinnychester once upon a time to break the rut she had found herself in? All along the way, she had developed her magic of illusions until it became so specialised it had challenged every the very nature of things. She had gathered a tight fellowship along the way, one which had spent six months together in Colt Springs to train up so they could support Trixie in her faint chance of grasping alicornhood. She would not disappoint them. At last, she felt that tenuous state of self-actualisation sink in again.

“Mother, father, thank you for everything,” Trixie said, wiping her eyes one last time. “I...will take your words to heart. And do not worry. I don’t intend to come back here, not for a very long time. I will win!”

“You—really—are—persistent!” Deinos roared. The madmare tried to string together a comprehensible set of words, but Deinos found herself having to constantly teleport every time she spoke. “I—you—stop it!” she shouted, turning into shadow completely and becoming completely impermeable, avoiding the last attack that was launched at her instead of teleporting.

The reason Deinos found herself flustered was the red-furred pegasus opposite her, who took the opportunity to rest as Deinos had gone incorporeal. Red Wings was panting heavily as he sank down onto the ground. If he was not already red, Red Wings would have been red with exertion by now.

“Ah, that’s better,” said Deinos, finally unperturbed by attacks. As a shadow, she had no real mouth, so the noise came out deeper than her regular suave, medium-pitch. “You really don’t know when to give up? I should be happy about this. I wanted entertainment, after all. I wanted a battle. And you’ve been providing it to me.” It was true. Deinos had expected the rest of this motley crew of fools to fall apart after their ringleader’s death. Instead, Red Wings had gone absolutely berserk. However, unlike Deinos’ expectation of him launching a suicidal attack, he had rallied to raise everypony’s morale, before pressing the offensive.

Before, when there were six, they had been too conservative in their attacks. Now there were five, but Deinos found herself on her back hooves more often than not. She wasn’t sure if she was suffering from some lingering aftereffects from that attack earlier that came close to imitating Harmony, or if Deinos just had underestimated their capabilities. While her power over the shadows was great, Deinos only had so many shadows. The accursed Red Wings was suddenly everywhere at once, attempting to hit her from in front, from her sides, from her rear, from above, and even from below when she was flying. She might have been able to injure Red Wings, but the other four ponies had done a splendid job tying down her shadows such that they were constantly on the move, splitting apart and melding together to block attacks. Even more, small nicks were repeatedly appearing on her coat. If Deinos had not been an alicorn with a superb regenerative ability, they might have actually started to add up.

“Won’t...give...up…” Red Wings said. He was panting heavily. His chest was quickly rising and falling as he gasped for air. Sweat freely dripped down all across his body. His eyes stung from the salty substance coming down from his forehead, but it was no matter. After all, the tears washed the sweat away, and the pain in his heart was greater than the irritant in his eyes.

“Won’t give up? Bah, you’ll kill yourself before I can kill you,” said Deinos, dissatisfied. Events as the Mœræ had dictated said that she would kill all who came here today. It could have been anywhere from a single pony to as many as six, and providence had brought six for her to devour. After Deinos won today, her magical power would increase even further. With it, her power over shadows would become even more unparalleled, and Deinos would finally gain an immunity against Harmony. Why she couldn’t be immune in the first place, she didn’t get. All she knew was that the Mœræ liked a logical proceeding, and a creature supposedly born from a plunderseed and dark magic should be originally weak to Harmony when both her parents had been imprisoned for a thousand years by that same force.

But first Deinos had to win today. Until then, her shadows were still imperfect. The five opposite her had become like cockroaches. “Well, I have to commend you. You made me frustrated enough to just turn myself into shadows. I don’t like doing that. I would rather give you a sporting chance. You made me feel pain, earlier. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that. Hehe, just thinking about that is getting me so turned on. I will truly have a feast tonight!” Deinos was beginning to feel the bloodthirst settle in again. Her eyes sped up their rotation as a red haze settled over her vision. It had been so long since she had experienced that euphoric state. The Mœræ had come up with a fitting punishment, leaving her to rot in a decrepit castle for a thousand years. Though a great deal of slaughter, meat-eating, and general mayhem was finally soon to come, a millennia of monotony was too long for Deinos to suffer before she could cut loose.

Across from her, the band of five who continued to oppose Deinos had since regrouped. Windspeaker and Noire stood up front. Noire had since recovered an iron spear from one of the statues dotting the walls of the throne room, and was wielding it in her front hooves. They were as stone guardians, calm, steady, and unflinching. Though they were both exhausted, the two were ready to intercept any attack that came their way. Most of all, Windspeaker and Noire each knew they had to protect Red Wings and give him time to recover. They could not afford to lose another member of their party. They still had a chance to win. It was a minor one, but it was still there. They had been savvy enough to realise one small loophole in Deinos’ words: only Trixie had been fully fated to arrive at the Castle of the Two Pony Sisters that day. Only Trixie was fully fated to die that day. If destiny as Deinos preached it was loose enough that they may have been in Canterlot and Whinnychester still, Windspeaker and Noire thought it may be loose enough to slip the noose that Deinos was attempting to tighten around them. Maybe Deinos hadn't been precise enough with her words and they were all meant to die, but there was still a glimpse of hope until then.

But they could not abandon Red Wings. They could never abandon Red Wings.

“Can you not abandon your masters and strike out on their own?” Windspeaker suddenly asked, seeking to make small talk to buy time for Red Wings to recover.

“Oh? Moi? Abandon the Fates Three?” Deinos asked with mock surprise. If it weren’t for her eyes already spinning, Windspeaker would have expected Deinos to roll them just now. “Preposterous. The gods will humour those who are able to surprise them, but as one of their actual servants...hohoho, a foalish foal such as you could never comprehend just how foalish you are! You think I could just throw this battle and walk away? Never! Besides, they threw me a piece of meat for once. This is the very last role I must fulfill before I can finally rejoin my sisters. It is only fitting that I will finally be satiated with the blood of sapients before I meet the makers. Enough of that, stop delaying me. If you want to talk about spinsters so much, try this on for size!” Deinos said, sneering.

Some of the shadows that had been guarding Deinos came together once more, forming a large mass on the ground. The mass then began to elongate to take a three-dimensional form, before fully reshaping itself. A large spider stood in front of Deinos, standing even higher than the already-tall alicorn. There was no colour to the spider: as a creation of shadows, it was pure black, sucking in all light around it. Despite its uniform blackness, there were eight obvious eyes on its head, increasing its creepiness. The spider clicked its teeth together, before suddenly pouncing on its prey.

Noire was the first to intercept the spider. She retracted her wings in to her body and quickly rolled underneath the spider, attempting to pierce its underside with her spear. The spider continued to move through the air, but two of its legs came around to block Noire’s strike.

Cling! came a high-pitched noise. Noire grunted as spear met shadows, an uncomfortable vibration shaking the batpony’s body. As an otherworldly power gifted to the Pony of Shadows, they were something else. The shadow was like metal as it followed up its block with a counterattack, which Noire in turn stopped with her own thrust.

By that time, the spider had finally soared past Noire, at which point Windspeaker stepped up. His horn was ablaze with a blue aura, conjuring ethereal blue dots of light. Windspeaker propelled the blue dots forward, and they impacted the shadowbeast. The arachnid was repelled by the projectiles, staggering back several steps. It quickly found itself on the defensive, doubly so when Stonehenge got a running start, climbing up several hoofsteps onto a nearby telamon column before backflipping, swinging with a backhoof kick towards the spider. Several appendages came ahead to block Stonehenge, but his momentum was great enough to push the spider sprawling again.

Iceheart met the arachnid in its path of retreat. Her hoofs flew out at top speed, each strike meant to cripple and incapacitate. Against a foe like the golem forged of shadows, there was no way for Iceheart to truly wound it, for it had no organs, no joints, no eyes made of flesh, no real weak points. However, if the shadows could be damaged by brute strength, Iceheart was aiming to prove it. The spider’s limbs tried to stop her, only for several of them to be occupied by Noire joining in again and using her spear to slash the shadowbeast once more. Stonehenge quickly entered the bray once more, substituting Iceheart’s agility for pure strength. Windspeaker stood off to the front, using the Living Wind to help intuitively coordinate his three companions so they overlapped each other without throwing one another off their balance. Occasionally, he snuck in another magical attack at the arachnid when it looked vulnerable.

The four were in a flurry of motion that would have appeared beautiful to a neutral observer as they worked off one another smoothly, six months of training together helping each of the ponies find a niche in battle. However, each of them quickly realised that no matter how many strikes they got in against the shadowbeast, it wasn’t actually doing anything. Deinos’ conjuration was made of shadows. Those same shadows had been invulnerable throughout the entire battle. Only a perfectly-harmonised magical attack might have been able to actually damage it, and they were now missing one of the two most pivotal members of their party required for the spell. Deinos was still just continuing to humour them, allowing the remaining five to expend the rest of their energy before killing them and eating their flesh.

Slowly, despair sank into Windspeaker’s heart. He used the Living Wind, drawing on its deep sea of ethereal calm to chase off his own emotion. A lifetime of sitting in bed and communing with the Living Wind gave him an appreciation for unorthodox tactics. Frantically, Windspeaker tried to think of something, anything that he could do.

“MOVE!”

Windspeaker didn’t even think before he moved, his body recognising the voice as a friendly one. The other three fighters did the same. A split second after he did, Windspeaker winced, and he covered his ears with the Living Wind’s forewarning as the air suddenly screeched. Two blades of air, razor-sharp enough to the point they were visible, quickly passed through the air, and struck the spider on either side of its head.

The moment hung in the air, as if time had frozen. Windspeaker saw Red Wings standing up again, both his wings outstretched. The red pegasus looked like he was on his last legs, barely able to stand up, with blood dripping from all over his body and pebbles and plaster dusting his coat. Still, Red Wings struck the most profound pose Windspeaker had even seen in the stallion, looking for all the world as if he was truly going to defy the heavens and seize the day. The red pegasus had summoned a blast of air from each wing, with an edge fine enough to cut the air itself, and the shadowbeast was Red Wings’ target.

Then the moment passed.

There was another screech. This time, it wasn’t from the air. Instead, it was the spider, cooing a sad rhapsody of defeat. Suddenly, its body fell apart into three sections, with four legs each on the two sides and a middle section, all flopping to the floor. Where Windspeaker, Stonehenge, Iceheart, and Noire had all struggled to inflict lasting damage against the arachnid, Red Wings had just split it in three.

Then the sections suddenly stood back up, before they melded together into a single lump once more. The shadows returned across the room to Deinos.

“Impressive, truly impressive,” said Deinos. However, she looked unperturbed. “Those shadows should have been able to stand up to anything. How long did you ponies train for in that old husk’s hive? Your coordination is impeccable, even with one of you gone. I really wish I could fight you all night.” The praise in Deinos’ voice was legitimate, a rare phenomenon from the vile, pugnacious alicorn. Her golden eyes were rotating even more frantically than ever before.

Stonehenge found he despised those golden eyes of hers, always spinning.

“Six months,” said Red Wings. His breathing had steadied out, and he looked like he was back in full fighting form, despite having just summoned one of his most intensive attacks. Despite standing tall, everypony else in the room knew he was on his last legs. “We trained together for six months. You won’t win, Deinos. We came too far to be stopped.”

“Oh, please,” Deinos mocked. She was quickly losing patience for playing word games. “Did losing your marefriend really hurt that much? It’s not like you’re going to miss her for long. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes tops. I’ll help you reunite with her soon enough.”

“Her name is Trixie!” Red Wings growled, a guttural roar working its way up his throat. “Call her that! Call her that!”

“Pfft.” Deinos blew a raspberry back. “What point is there in getting to know the name of ants who will soon be squashed? I have more important things to do, like figuring out how to cook tonight. All of you look too fit. Lean and full of muscle, not enough fat. It’ll take a lot of boiling to tenderise the muscles down.” Deinos ignored the habitual revulsion on the other ponies’ faces at her repeated mentions of her cannibalism, and instead summoned the mass of shadows to her side.

“Truly, the fact you came this far, and even managed to batter my poor, poor, pwecious spider shows the potential of your souls. Perhaps you will even leapfrog your way up with this lifetime. Enough talk!” Deinos said suddenly. “I’ve given you foals multiple chances to prance around and play heroes. It’s time to end this. Feel blessed, my little ponies, for today you shall witness the end of an era!”

The shadows started to rotate around Deinos at breakneck speed. They were moving so fast that trying to track any part of it would cause an individual to become dizzy, much like looking at the blades of a moving fan. The three stallions and two mares that had fought Deinos and struggled for so long were put on their guard, sensing from Deinos’ words that she meant to inflict fatal strikes again.

Suddenly, the throne room plunged into absolute darkness, the moonlight no longer penetrating the holes in the castle walls and roof. Then it lit the room up again, as if it had just flickered. In that brief second the room was pitch black, Deinos had moved. The remaining cadre of ponies felt their bodies seized by the same empyreal force Trixie had been earlier locked down by, unable to move.

Deinos gloated to herself as she pounced towards the five fleshy bodies that awaited her fangs. She had waited a thousand years for this moment. A tendril of her shadow floated out ahead of her, ready to inflict misery at Deinos’ command. Truly, life was great.

Suddenly, the tendril of shadow disappeared.

Deinos found herself stunned as she continued through the air by her forward momentum. The shadowy appendage she had just sent out hadn’t merged back into Deinos’ mass of shadows. It had just vanished.

The madmare didn’t have a second moment to dwell on what had just happened, as her vision was suddenly filled by something that she only had time enough to identify as being blue.

Then there was pain.

Both pain and disorientation blended in as Deinos suddenly found herself looking at the ceiling, spotting the stars and the moon through the holes in the roof, soaring through the room for the second time that night. Then the moment ended as she hit solid floor. Pain overwhelmed disorientation, as her back skidded through the stones, friction tearing off parts of her skin. Before Deinos could even comprehend what was happening, she hit a rock, and her body flipped over into the air, finally hitting a stone statue pillar. The telamon, a column with a carving of a nondescript Earth pony, had lasted a thousand years holding up the roof, up until Deinos had crashed into it. Deinos had hit it head-first as well, and her horn was afire, sending her to tears for the first time in over a thousand years.

Finally, her momentum stalled out by the impromptu obstacle, Deinos flopped over onto the floor. The alicorn grit her teeth. Pain was immaterial. Surprise was taking over. What had just happened? Rolling over, Deinos stood up, only to be greeted with the most shocking sight she had ever seen in her many lives.

“Miss me?” Trixie asked, blowing on the hoof that she had just bucked right into Deinos’ face.

Deinos flinched, her battered horn giving her a raging headache. “Y-you?! Y-you’re supposed to be dead! You’re supposed to be dead! You’re supposed to be dead! I killed you!”

“Trixie? That—” Red Wings’ words were choked off by his sobbing. A strange combination of disbelief and relief filled the stallion, turning him into a blubbering mess. Similar scenes could be seen with Windspeaker, Iceheart, Noire, and Stonehenge to a one.

“There, there, Red,” Trixie said, booping him on the nose before wrapping her arm around his neck and hugging the stallion close for a moment. “It’s alright. I’m here now. Death was but a temporary setback for the Grrrreat and Powerrrrful Trrrrixie! Heheh, maybe not appropriate now, is it?” she asked sheepishly. She turned to face the other four. “I’m back now, everypony.”

“Impossible!” Deinos screeched, still disbelieving herself. “I killed you! I pushed your soul out of your body! You can’t be alive!”

“Deinos, Deinos, Deinos,” Trixie said, clicking her tongue as she turned to face the frenzied alicorn. “You know my history. My illusions were able to fool reality into thinking the way things should be is what I wanted. I was the one who vanished Windigo fossils from this world. I was the one who restored a pegasus’ shorn wing. I was the one who dissolved a well of petrification magic. I was the one who unbound a unicorn’s soul from the Living Wind. When you think about it, isn’t it obvious? I am capable of even deceiving death itself!”

The implication of Trixie’s final statement blew everyone away. Deinos unwillingly took a step back. For the first time in several thousand years, Deinos found herself scared. “Th-th—blasphemy, blasphemy!” she shouted. “Utter heresy! You’re meddling with the domain of the gods!”

“Oh? Should I be worried?” Trixie asked nonchalantly, enjoying Deinos’ panic. “After all, I was already defying the gods by fighting you earlier, right? What’s one more thing like tricking death?”

With that, Trixie took the opportunity to turn around and face the others, her back towards Deinos. “Hello, everypony.”

“Trixie? Is that really you?” Iceheart asked, completely perturbed. For once, the Crystal Earth pony was shaken, her face visibly pale under her purple coat. The night had brought far too many surprises.

“Deceived...death itself? Is such a thing even possible?” Stonehenge asked, attempting to wrap his head around the concept and utterly failing. Then again, if anypony could actually conceive and believe themselves capable of deceiving death, it would be Trixie, Stonehenge admitted. He knew of how Trixie’s illusionary talent worked, and how it required the unicorn to believe something and force that perception onto reality. Still, to overwrite her death with the idea that she was alive was too surreal for Stonehenge.

Trixie flicked her mane back behind her head. She said, “I find myself to be surprised too, honestly. It is never something I would have thought of, until fate itself forced my hoof. But, well, here I am.”

Deinos blinked as she found herself suddenly ignored. She found herself rapidly breathing. Anger filled her senses, as a red haze blanketed her vision. The pain from her earlier impact against the column was vanquished, as rage set in instead. The unicorn before her had just embarrassed Deinos in a way she never had been before, not even when she had been a mere mortal mare fighting alongside her sisters as the Mares of Diomedes. “Your body. It was perfectly intact. Destiny says you’re supposed to die today. I just have to kill you again. This time, I’ll make sure to chop you up into pieces so you don’t have a body to return to,” Deinos said, clearly unhinged.

Swiftly, Deinos summoned a large rod-like tendril out of her shadows. Mirroring the opening move of the battle, she intended to bludgeon Trixie, who had turned around in response to Deinos’ threat. As Deinos sent the instrument of death down at the blue unicorn, there was a niggling thought that she was forgetting something.

The alicorn remembered instantly what she was forgetting when the tendril of shadow sent out disappeared.

“H-how?” Deinos said, confused and once more scared. Her shadow just disappearing like that was not a phenomenon Deinos had ever seen.

“Oh, that? Why, whatever are you talking about?” Trixie gloated in a sing-song voice. “Was there something there? Trixie simply didn’t believe it existed, so it didn’t.”

Deinos swallowed as she examined her shadows. The alicorn had been with her shadows given to her by the gods for a thousand years. They had kept her warm in the drafty winter. They had curled up around her when she slept, acting as her pillow and blanket. The shadows and Deinos were companions for so long, they had become one and the same. Deinos could tell that the amount of shadows in her possession was not right. As Trixie was vanishing the shadow appendages, the mass of her shadows was decreasing.

An unsettling thought forced its way into Deinos’ mind. She could turn into shadows herself. Could. But if she did, then would Trixie be able to make her disappear entirely as well? Deinos very rarely felt her golden eyes, always spinning in their sockets. But now, she could feel them, as they continued to spin harder and harder, faster and faster, as if they were trying to build up enough speed to escape their sockets.

“I see you’ve realised it,” said Trixie. “You’ve lorded over us all night with your shadows! They were what stopped us every time, and when it looked like you might get hit, you became a phantom yourself. Red Wings, Noire, everypony,” Trixie added, looking behind her. “How do you feel? I only returned at the tail end there, when Red Wings cut that shadowbeast in three, and waited around to sneak attack her. Do you all feel up to one last tussle?”

Noire grinned, showing off her teeth. She swung her spear around in anticipation, feeling her blood pumping again. “I was born ready.”

Iceheart had regained her bearings. Nerves steady, she stepped forward. “It would be an honour, Trixie, to fight with you one more time.”

Red Wings stood up, flexing his wings. As he did, the world swayed overhead. Red Wings gritted his teeth, then bit his tongue to combat his disorientation. The stallion was exhausted, especially after his wind slicing technique. But Red Wings felt it in his bones, that this would be their last parley. He could rest afterwards, whether it be in this world or in the great pasture beyond. “Let’s, Trix.”

Stonehenge flexed an arm, then slammed it into the floor, cracking a stone. “This stallion will have to wait a while longer to sleep, it would seem,” he mused.

Windspeaker found himself in a state of zen. The Living Wind howled, but he was as calm as could be. Slowly, he grappled the Living Wind into submission, finally achieving oneness. He was startled to find that for once, Windspeaker could actually feel Deinos’ shadows directly. The white unicorn smirked. It would seem Trixie had truly gained something in the time she was dead to rob Deinos’ shadows of their pure divinity. “The Living Wind and I are both chomping at the bits,” he reported.

Trixie smiled, glad to see her friends’ spirits were all back up. Her smile soon slipped back into a hard glare, as she once more faced the madmare before her. Trixie fumbled about for a second for a suitably epic line, before she finally said, “Here I come, Deinos, Pony of Shadows! Do you have enough shadows in your possession?”

Deinos lurched backwards. She realised what she had done, then moved forward again. Deinos snarled, her spinning golden eyes defiant. “You think you’re so great, my little pony?! I have sat here a thousand years! My name will stand for ten thousand more! You throw your petty little talents in the face of literal GODS! I will end you where you stand!”

Trixie shook her head, not willing to lose the battle of words. "You were right, Deinos. It's the end of an era, but it's not our end. Neigh, it's the end of your era of terror!"

She wanted to add on one last line. Trixie hesitated, but then words that had been spoken to her mere minutes ago reassured Trixie of her purpose.

‘For you too shall become great’

With that, Trixie cast a spell, once more restarting their great battle.

"For I am the Great and Powerful Trixie!"

Author's Note

Somehow, I get the feeling that even though there are a lot of little hints that were dropped in the very first chapter, and foreshadowing throughout the story, many of which finally come to a culmination in this chapter, most people's favorites will be Trixie literally bucking destiny in the face (Deinos being its proxy).

Something I've written into a few of my ponyfics, but which I've used several times in the last few chapters, is my idea of pony heaven. The afterlife, as ponies see it, is 'the endless rolling fields of the great pasture beyond'.

Many of you have no doubt caught it by now, and at least one of you commented on it. Deinos and the Mares of Diomedes is a real part of Greek mythology, and capturing and restraining them was one of Herakles' 12 feats. They were known for eating the flesh of men. A bit of repurposing their legend later for setting without humans and here we are. If I was to be honest, I kind of expected someone to mention it on the first chapter of this arc when Deinos first named herself...but there's a few different transliterations of the names of the Mares of Diomedes, so even if somebody did know about it, they may not have realised it.

The Three Fate Sisters is also a legend common to a few cultures such as the Greek and later Roman myths, and in the Greek they are called Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. Honest truth: when I was writing the previous chapter, I started writing the first moment that Deinos imitates a spider without even realising it was a parallel to the Three Fates/Mœræ, who are supposed to 'spin the web' of fate. Halfway through writing that first bit, I realised the parallel, and continued to write it in. Every time Deinos imitates a spider or creates a spider golem, that was completely unplanned originally.

Phantasmare

Trixie let loose her spell. Her horn emitted a red laser, flying straight and true through the air.

A magic shield formed in front of Deinos, mostly translucent with a purple haze. The purple alicorn reared up on her hind legs before coming back down, stomping the floor in front of her and shattering the stone under her hooves. It was clear Deinos was back in a fighting mood. “You think you have a chance? The Mœræ granted unto me the form of an alicorn. Even if you have somehow rendered my shadows helpless, I am still more than you foals ever will be!”

Deinos’ counterattack was as quick as a flying pegasus. Trixie had barely blinked before a spider web-like magical net flew through the air, rapidly growing in size as it approached her. She briefly waited, then teleported out just before the net would have ensnared Trixie. Quickly, Trixie looked back at Deinos, only to see the other pony was gone. Looking around, Trixie saw the alicorn flying through the air. Deinos had launched a second net right after her first, aiming it at Iceheart. Iceheart had jumped but failed to dodge entirely, and the net had wrapped around Iceheart’s leg, leaving the Crystal pony unable to flex her fetlock or bend her limb at the knee. It left Iceheart exposed to Deinos, who was on a trajectory to ram right into her.

Stonehenge, who was closest to Iceheart, attempted to intercept Deinos. He was just a little late, as Deinos struck Iceheart with a shoulder check, knocking both of them over. There was a mess of purple limbs as the two hit the ground. Quickly, every other pony moved to try and pull them apart. Trixie gasped as she saw what Deinos was doing. The Pony of Shadows had ignored trying to hit Iceheart with her hooves or her magic, and was instead lunging for Iceheart’s neck, her mouth wide open, baring her fangs. Deinos was close to chomping down, only for Stonehenge to finally make it over.

The grey stallion sent a quick punch at Deinos, but his punch fell on empty air as the alicorn suddenly vanished. Quickly, Stonehenge backed away from Iceheart. He rested his weight onto his front hooves, the easier to buck behind him if Deinos had appeared behind him. With trepidation, he scanned the area around him, relying on Noire and Red Wings in front of him to warn Stonehenge if the madmare was indeed behind him.

“Above you!” Stonehenge suddenly barked, as it was him who instead had to provide the warning.

Red Wings was slightly hovering above the ground at the time Stonehenge yelled. It was enough for the red pegasus to dip his wings and spin over in the air out of the way. Noire wasn’t so lucky. Even though she had jumped to the side, Deinos fell from the air with a wild abandon, and clipped Noire on her withers with a hoof. The bat pony hissed out loud. Deinos turned around, moving to hit Noire again, only to once more teleport.

Deinos reappeared in front of Windspeaker. “Annoying colt with that wind of yours,” Deinos said as her horn lit up. For once, she was curt, not waiting to send her own magical beam at Windspeaker.

The colt in question yelped, and Windspeaker backpedalled, before he too teleported. Windspeaker only moved a short distance, and judged his position incorrectly, finding himself six inches above the ground instead of on the floor proper. He was only in the air briefly before landing, but Windspeaker instinctively took a step forward as he did. He gasped, holding a hoof to his barrel, his heart pounding in his chest. Windspeaker wasn’t as talented as Trixie was at teleportation, only learning it alongside Noire in the hive, and so he had been slow to react to Deinos’ spell. If he had been just a fraction of a second slower, he would have been struck and injured.

Deinos sneered as she turned around, sensing where Windspeaker had gone. She didn’t say a word. Instead, she was gone yet again, leaving behind the slight sound of air rushing in to fill the vacuum where her body had once been.

Quickly, Deinos reappeared up in the air above Stonehenge. Her wings flapped open as she glided down to the stallion, who had little time to react. Another ball of magic gathered up on her horn, as Deinos intended to skewer the Earth pony. Stonehenge threw his forelimbs up in front of him, hoping to mitigate whatever spell Deinos had in mind.

However, Deinos never made it to him, as she blipped out of existence once again. Stonehenge swore he had heard the sound of not one but two teleports in rapid sequence. Paranoid, he dashed ahead several feet before looking behind him. There was the same rush of air that indicated a teleportation to Stonehenge’s left, and he looked over, only to see Trixie disappear as soon as he caught sight of her. Turning around, Stonehenge saw Deinos and Trixie facing off against one another.

“Annoying ant, tracking where I’m teleporting,” Deinos said, scowling.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie is a mare of many talents,” Trixie said, grooming her mane with a hoof.

“If you say so,” Deinos mocked the other mare, before suddenly disappearing again. Trixie’s form blinked out a split second later, only to reappear back with Deinos, but opposite the positions they were originally in. “So you truly are determined to pursue me. I could just do this until you are tired out, but that would not be fun. How’s about this!” Deinos shouted, and her horn glowed an eerie gold colour.

Trixie yelped as she saw a rock come her way. Instinctively, she teleported out of the way, then mentally kicked herself a second later for not using a shield. Then she looked around, and saw there were several rocks flying towards each of her friends. “Red! Iceheart! Stonehenge!” Trixie shouted, casting shields in front of them to stop the stones and rocks Deinos was launching. Windspeaker and Noire were quick on the ball, and able to use their own magic to stop the projectiles.

It was just enough time for Deinos to set-up for her next attack. The Pony of Shadows hopped into the air, letting her wings spread and gaining height. Deinos cackled. “You foals!” Suddenly, more debris lifted off the ground. Whether it was stones large and small, mortar, brick, or any other material littered around the room from the castle’s thousand year decay, it all suddenly rushed together in front of Deinos.

Then the madmare alicorn flapped her wings, and she sent a tornado from the tips of her feathers.

“What the—” Red Wings backed up, startled. He could create a tornado himself if he wanted to, but he could not have done it so effortlessly as Deinos had. Red Wings had broken up tornadoes most of his life, not made them. What was more terrifying was the tornado picking up all the mass Deinos had telekinetically picked up off the floor. At the quick speeds exerted by the tornado, anything it did a flyby of would be pulled in and severely injured if not outright killed once struck by another object. Even were Red Wings and everypony else to avoid the tornado, it could also spit something out of its vortex at high speeds.

“Shield!” Trixie shouted, her horn alight in a pink glow as a transparent dome formed in front of the six ponies. Given the pervasiveness of the tornado and debris, there was no safe space to teleport to for her or anypony else. Windspeaker joined her, his own horn radiating a vivid blue light as he reinforced the shield barrier. Noire was last to react, having to summon the magic from inside of her body and shape it more carefully, instead of having a handy horn to rely on. Her magical glow was a lilac purple that surrounded her body, and it joined Windspeaker’s power in reinforcing Trixie’s original shield spell.

It was just in time, as the tornado of solid matter smashed into the shield. The two unicorns and one bat pony all reeled as the impact of the tornado on their spell hit them with magical backlash, but the shield held strong. Rocks and stones grinded down to fine dust, and softer matter completely disintegrated, before at last the tornado itself fizzled out against the shield, its eye weakened and tearing up.

Trixie took a deep breath, relieved. It didn’t last long.

Trixie yelped as she spotted a flash of light to her periphery, and there Deinos was, the alicorn having teleported right to Trixie’s side. Deinos launched a spell at Trixie that radiated a mustard-yellow colour, and Trixie responded by teleporting away from the spell, mindful there was nopony behind her who would accidentally get struck.

“Eep!” Windspeaker squeaked, jumping back in fright as Deinos teleported in front of him next. This time, the alicorn attempted to sideswipe her opponent with a straight up punch. Windspeaker leaned back until he nearly fell over backwards to initially avoid the hit, before the stallion suppressed instinct and teleported away.

Noire squawked as she suddenly found herself facing down a magical red blade. Thinking on her hooves, Noire rolled over to her left, and the blade cut the ground where she once stood, letting out a disturbing sizzling sound that left little to the imagination as to how the same blade would have hurt Noire. She had to take a second, being far less practiced than Trixie or even Windspeaker was, but Noire was able to teleport away right before the blade struck her.

“This is—” Windspeaker attempted to say something from his new spot in front of the stairs leading up to the organ, only to teleport yet again as Deinos appeared in front of him.

“Deinos! You—” Trixie teleported in front of Deinos, only to find Deinos was already gone. Trixie blinked, turned her head to visually confirm where her magic sense had told her Deinos had gone, then teleported again.

“Not ag—” Windspeaker was forced to teleport once more as Deinos had stalked him over near the periphery of the crater from the earlier trio of attacks that had been the group’s first serious strike upon her.

Trixie teleported in front of Deinos, only for Deinos to disappear. Trixie wrinkled her nose before her eyes widened, and she teleported six feet to the left, away from the crater, to see Deinos hitting where Trixie had formerly stood. That was close, Trixie thought, having nearly been ambushed by a teleport. Any further thinking on her part was cut short as she teleported again to intercept Deinos’ attack on Noire, only for all three to end up teleporting within a split-second of each other, with Noire moving first to avoid potential death.

To the side, Red Wings, Stonehenge, and Iceheart consolidated their position, being the three ponies there unable to teleport. The two Earth ponies stood back-to-back to cover most potential angles, while Red Wings hovered above the two. Were Deinos to break away from attacking Windspeaker, Noire, or Trixie, and move towards them, she would not be able to ambush the three non-teleporters. Stonehenge, who was facing the action, found himself getting dizzy as he attempted to follow four separate ponies constantly blinking in and out.

Noire attempted a counterattack, being within quick flying distance of Deinos the next time she teleported away from Trixie stalking her. Deinos caught her sneak attack and returned fire with a volley of sharp icicles that would have skewered the bat pony, only for Noire to teleport away in the nick of time. Deinos was forced to teleport again herself as Trixie had taken advantage of Deinos’ distraction to conjure a fireball. Windspeaker stood still and sent a razor-sharp blade right at Deinos once she flickered back into existence, using the Living Wind to quickly track down her position, only to have to immediately teleport again himself as Deinos teleported right in front of his face.

Enough. This is getting ridiculous, Deinos thought to herself. Unfortunately, she had failed to kill any of the three ponies in her first few strikes. It was clear Windspeaker and Noire were rusty and slow to teleport at once, but they were flickering in and out of existence as quickly as Trixie after a few seconds. The fear of death was a large motivation. As an alicorn, Deinos had deep magical reserves. She was certain she could tire the other ponies out if they kept at this game, but Deinos was getting impatient, her bloodlust building up to a crescendo. She had barely even bloodied anypony yet tonight! She had only killed one pony either, and that had been negated in something Deinos still could not fathom.

Deinos quickly resolved herself. She teleported in front of Trixie and feinted an attack. As soon as Trixie had reacted by teleporting away, Deinos teleported into the air in front of Red Wings. Her magic at the ready, Deinos’ conjured blade swung down at the hovering pegasus. Time stood still as Deinos soaked in the frightened, scared look in Red Wings’ eyes, his pupils dilating wide.

Then her sword swung down on Red Wings, and he burst into a bunch of smoke.

“Wh—” Deinos was unable to finish her sound of surprise before a heavy force hammered her in her withers, sending her several feet down into the floor. The sudden impact caused Deinos’ jaw to slam shut, ramming her upper and lower set of teeth together. A brief moment of pain disoriented her, before natural alicorn biology kicked in and the pain was washed away. Deinos grunted, dissatisfied, before teleporting away just before another magic attack would have hit her on the ground.

“Enough,” Deinos snarled as she picked herself off the ground from her new spot. She shook her mane to get some of the dust and plaster out of her hair, before looking over to where the three non-magical ponies had been, and saw the red pegasus moving away. Ah, so that’s how it was. An illusion. And he laid in wait to hit me from above.

Suddenly, Deinos froze. There was a familiar taste of iron in her mouth. She stuck her tongue out, and rolled her eyeballs to look at her tongue.

Blood. There was blood on her tongue.

A haze washed over Deinos’ vision, as her wrath was provoked. Blood. That pony had drawn her blood! He would pay!

Deinos growled. She didn’t even teleport this time. She instead leapt off the ground and flew right at Red Wings. Red Wings shouted in distress and attempted to dodge, but his effort was futile as Deinos slammed into him with the momentum of a fully-grown pony, sending him soaring back. Deinos pursued Red Wings as he attempted to flap his wings and gain control of his form before he hit a wall, and was quickly upon him. Just as Deinos was about to physically accost Red Wings, however, the pegasus said, “Gotcha,” and wrapped his left wing around her horn, and squeezed.

“Y-you!” Deinos squealed in surprise. How dare this stallion touch my horn! If I could use my shadows I would have already flayed the flesh off his bones. I’ll tear him apart! Deinos was quick to react. Instead of using her magic to knock Red Wings off of her horn, Deinos instead thrust her head up.

“AAAARGH!” Red Wings shouted. Blood sprayed out of his wing from the fleshy area which Deinos had just impaled, in between the radius and ulna bones. Red Wings attempted to pull his wing away from Deinos, but the mare held his wing down, trying to increase the size of the wound she had just inflicted. Deinos quickly licked at the blood, slurping it down. She was excited by the vibrant red blood getting everywhere.

Deinos suddenly jerked, and looked to her right. There, Stonehenge had pounced on her wing, grabbing it near her shoulder where her large humerus bone jutted out. The sensation tore her away from her bloodlust long enough to realise what Stonehenge intended to do.

“Don’t you da—” Deinos warned, only to scream as Stonehenge bent her humerus bone. “GRAAAAAGH!” Deinos bucked her back legs in a mad frenzy, before throwing Red Wings off, his wing sliding off her horn. With one pony out of the way, Deinos crouched and rolled her body around counterclockwise, catching a brief look at Stonehenge’s surprised look when the large stallion was pulled along with her wing, briefly floating in the air above Deinos, before momentum carried Stonehenge away, his grip on her wing loosened by Deinos’ maneuver.

Quickly, Deinos teleported away before another one of her adversaries could reach her, and landed in a spot further back. However, her grasp at temporary respite was thwarted by Trixie teleporting right in beside her.

“STOP IT!” Deinos growled, before teleporting back closer to the rest of the party. Try this on for size, Deinos thought as her horn lit up. This time, Deinos did away with the fancy magical spells she knew, and simply charged up a lot of magic all at once, pushing beyond the barrier that separated unicorn and alicorn powers. A larger fireball sat at the tip of her horn. Deinos flung it, then teleported back up to the organ she had been playing earlier.

The madmare watched as Trixie fell back to put up a magic shield against the fireball, and Deinos gloated as the fireball broke through Trixie’s shield, only to fizzle out on a second barrier Windspeaker had put up. To the ponies’ surprise, the fireball dumped out an enormous amount of heat in its death throes, and everypony still standing fell over as the heat wave radiated out with a push.

“Good, good,” Deinos muttered to herself as her body started to regenerate. The bite to her tongue was healed in an instant. The light fracture from when Red Wings had smashed into her withers was next. The ache around her wing joints where Stonehenge had roughly bent it was just a little longer. Those foals are pushing me too far. If not for that strange ability to vanish my shadows, I would have—wait, what is she doing?

Across the room, Trixie had picked herself up off the floor after being bowled over by the heat wave. She quickly assessed the situation, seeing Deinos licking her wounds far away. Turning around, Trixie grimaced as she spotted Red Wing’s punctured wing. Trixie stepped up to him and whispered a few words of reassurance, then cast her magic.

“What the?!” Deinos squawked as suddenly Red Wings’ wing was as good as new. The wound was completely gone, as if it had never been there. Yet the fresh blood still dripping down Deinos’ horn proved she had indeed impaled his wing. Deinos was briefly puzzled, before she remembered what she knew of the six ponies’ journey before they came to this castle. She healed that wing before! Of course she could do it again! Diomedes damned unicorn!

Any further introspection was cut off as suddenly Noire teleported, and Deinos sensed the bat pony was right behind her. Quickly turning, Deinos saw Noire swooping in at her. Deinos decided to take the hit, and shot out a vicious sharp cut of air that would bisect Noire in mid-air. She then tensed and got ready for the two halves of the bat pony to hit her, only to blink as the air cutter went straight through Noire, and Noire went straight through Deinos.

Another accursed illusion! Deinos thought. Quickly realising she had her back turned around to five other ponies, she turned around, only to swiftly jump out of the way as a lance-shaped projectile forged out of ice came right at her. “GURGH!” Deinos grunted as the lance clipped her on her outstretched wing, throwing her dodging motion off-kilter as she flapped awkwardly with her opposite wing before landing on the ground. Mindful of the fact that she had indeed sensed Noire’s presence behind her, even if it was an illusion that had swooped in at Deinos, the alicorn quickly teleported elsewhere.

“Enough,” Deinos said quietly, before repeating herself at a louder pitch, “ENOUGH! ENOUGH!” Deinos used her magic to grab all five of the ponies in front of her in her telekinetic grip. Looking around, she finally found Noire, stalking around her backside, and grabbed her too, flinging her back into the group. “I should have done this a long time ago, hohoho,” Deinos said, feeling her golden eyes in her socket rotating ever quicker.

The six ponies struggled to break free out of Deinos’ telekinetic grasp, but Deinos was finally showing the prerogative of an alicorn, her magic holding each of them down through pure force. Trixie and Windspeaker tried to use their magic, but Deinos squashed down on them with extra brutality, rendering their horn-casting ineffective. Even the Living Wind was nullified, as Deinos’ might was so great she even stopped the air currents inside the room. She kept her shadows at her side nonetheless, afraid Trixie might somehow break free and vanish them if Deinos were to use them.

“At last, my victory is neigh...nigh,” Deinos corrected herself, as she trotted towards the six ponies. To a one, they were showing expressions of strain on their faces, bones almost popping out of their necks, as they attempted to break free of the telekinesis. Hmm, those necks… “Eeenie, Meenie, Minie, Moe, so many options to choose from,” Deinos said in a singsong voice. “And then there were six...I know, let’s go with you.”

And then Deinos pounced out, her fangs sinking into the nape of Iceheart’s neck.

Iceheart howled and jerked, but was unable to break free under the telekinesis, and Deinos quickly pinned her down under her wings and forelimbs, knocking the two purple ponies down to the floor. Despite her continuing struggles, Iceheart was still unable to move, yet Deinos punctured her fangs further into Iceheart’s skin.

A growing mass of red could be seen around Iceheart’s neck as Deinos retracted her fangs, opting to lick the freely flowing blood instead. Euphoria washed through the alicorn. “Ah, yessss!” Deinos moaned in sweet ecstasy as she licked more blood, her senses heightened by the metallic tang on her tongue. She had briefly sampled from Red Wings’ wing earlier, but it had been brief. “Oh, yessss, so long have I waited to taste pony blood again.”

Opposite from her, Windspeaker felt his stomach flip-flop as he saw the streak of red running down Iceheart’s neck. Though Deinos hadn’t punctured the jugular, Windspeaker was certain that amount of blood leaving wasn’t good. He strained once again to break free of Deinos’ telekinesis, but found his body lacking. Even with six months of beefing up, Windspeaker was still physically the most frail of the group, even next to the mares. The magic that held Windspeaker in place even was pressing down on his horn, rendering his magic inert. He had resorted to the Living Wind, but even that had been quelled by Deinos’ magic stilling the air inside the castle.

But not everywhere, Windspeaker thought. He had laid on a bed for years as his body had gotten progressively weaker, but in turn, Windspeaker had nothing in the world but time to think. Windspeaker was not out of ideas just yet. A storm was coming. A possibility had formed in his mind.

“Ahh!” Iceheart screamed out again as Deinos brought a hoof down on her body, getting a thrill out of causing pain. Windspeaker’s heart lurched, but he focused. Deinos’ telekinetic grip was great, but it was not all-pervasive.

Suddenly, the wind swept through a window near where the fireball attack had hit the ponies earlier. Windspeaker had chosen that area because the air was still hot there, far warmer than other spots of the room. Wind was caused by air differential, and so it was the strongest there. Shaping the air with his control over the Living Wind, Windspeaker created a mass, and pushed.

“Ahhh, yes!” Deinos said with glee, licking the blood around her muzzle. She looked around on Iceheart’s body for another spot to puncture before this pony’s warm body went cold. “Where should I—oof!” Suddenly, Deinos went sprawling as something hit her, followed by a sharp hit to her head. The next couple of seconds were rough-and-tumble for her, but Deinos spotted a lot of white in her vision.

Despite Windspeaker’s ambush and quick punch, Deinos was quick to grapple with him and slam him against the floor. Windspeaker struggled, and used the Living Wind to throw a cut at Deinos, only for a quick shield to block them. Deinos let out an animalistic howl as she socked Windspeaker right in the muzzle.

Windspeaker cried out in pain as his nose started to leak blood, but Deinos wasn’t finished with their scuffle. She quickly yanked Windspeaker’s head around, and then bit down on his ear. Windspeaker recoiled as Deinos teeth sank in, and tried to pull away, only for Deinos’ grip around his lobe to increase. Windspeaker tried to kick at Deinos around her rear next, only for Deinos to suddenly tear his ear right off.

“RAGGH!” Windspeaker spasmed, before the adrenaline that coursed through his body finally allowed him to push Deinos off his body, right into the path of Red Wings, freed from her telekinesis as Deinos had gotten too distracted to keep it up. Windspeaker took the brief respite to look down at his coat. His fur, always pristine white, had been dirtied brown throughout their fight from the rocks and plaster littered across the castle. Now, it was quickly getting stained red from the blood dribbling from his nose and pouring out from the stump of his ear.

Deinos, meanwhile, was unable to keep her battle trophy for long, the white ear in her mouth falling out as Red Wings returned the favour for Windspeaker, bucking the alicorn right in the jaw with his rear hoof. Deinos hung in the air for a second, surprised by the sudden turnabout, before hitting the ground.

Keeping her wits together, Deinos teleported away before anypony else could get her, moving into one of the rafters of the throne room where she hung upside down. There was a feeling of fire in her jaw, and Deinos could feel her jaw swelling. She opened her mouth, and spat out a wad of blood. Though her jaw was beginning to turn numb to sensation, Deinos could still feel pressure, and there was an odd pressure on her tongue. She wiggled her tongue around it, only for one of her fangs to suddenly fall out.

Deinos stared at the fang falling to the ground, quickly becoming a speck in her sight. One of my fangs, she thought. Even as she hung from the rafters, stunned, a new fang regenerated in her mouth, replacing her old one. That didn’t matter. Losing a fang was even more humiliating than merely bleeding. They broke one of my fangs.

Ploys and machinations no longer mattered to Deinos. Instead, her body throbbed with a need to kill.

Quickly, Deinos teleported back into the centre of the room. With a deep, angry breath, Deinos flared all the magic in her body in one fell burst to show off and intimidate the other ponies. Her magical power was so great her horn was incapable of channeling it all. It instead radiated out her skin as a fiery red light, the raw magic actually exerting a buoyancy against the air that even lifted her off the ground. Deinos spread her wings to complete the image. “I should have just done this from the beginning! No more toying with my food! I’m just going to blow this room up! None of you ponies have the regeneration I have. I hope you enjoy your last moments as your burned skin falls off, my little po—”

Deinos suddenly stopped her cruel words, and some of her magic fizzled out. “Eh?” she asked aloud, as she sensed something off. The alicorn tilted her head sideways, confused, until a look of comprehension flickered in her rotating golden eyes. An illusion! I’m underneath another illusion!

She wouldn’t stand for it this time. With a grunt, Deinos zapped the air around her with some lightning magic. Deinos believed she alone in this modern age was able to disrupt an illusion using electricity of all things. Modern magic had evolved in a different direction than the old age in the city-state of Thrace, when the highest patron deity of the ponies was known for his command over the storms, and lightning and thunder were regarded as elements of purification.

However, something unexpected happened. As Deinos tore the illusion apart, the illusion struck back at her. “Ow!” Deinos instinctively said, rubbing her hoof against her horn as she felt the jolt shock her. That must have been a powerful illusion. I’ve never felt a backlash like that before from shorting out a spell. Deinos scrunched her nose as she felt something was off. She attempted to bite her tongue, only to find her jaw had suddenly gone numb. It had been a large enough backlash to even temporarily paralyse Deinos.

Paranoia possessed the madmare. Sluggishly, she turned her head to regard her opponents and see what the illusion had hid. When she saw the six ponies opposite her, if Deinos’ heart had not already been hammering away from the electric jolt, it would have surely sped up in fright.

Trixie and her friends were lined up in a formation. They were lined up in the same formation that they had used to fling the faux-Harmony magic at Deinos earlier. They were casting the magic right now!

“Whurgh? Nuuuu!” Deinos attempted to flee, but the electricity had disrupted the synapses to her limbs as well. No matter how powerful her body was, it was still taking precious seconds to recover, and Deinos could see the magic travelling into the purple pony with the Crystal Heart as her Cutie Mark. To Deinos’ agony, she could feel the magic this time was balanced just a touch more perfectly than the last time.

Suddenly, Deinos felt her wings clear up from their paralysis. Deinos, panicked, flapped her wings to fly, only to find her body unable to clear the ground and move into the air. She flapped even harder, but still the rest of her body would not move. Deinos jerked up, looking back over at the ponies, honing in on the white-furred stallion. He’s stopped all the air currents! The same thing that she had done to him earlier to stop him using the Living Wind, Windspeaker had reversed upon Deinos to stop her from flying away.

Frantically, Deinos tried to move, her head having been able to jerk slightly earlier. But she was barely able to move. Meanwhile, her spinning golden eyes were focused on the sight of the blue-white beam that was emitted from Iceheart. Time slowed, and the resolve Deinos had built in her heart over a thousand years dissolved away as the blue-white energy got bigger and bigger, honing in on her.

There was a flash of black in the periphery of Deinos’ vision. Too late, she realised what it was.

“No!” Deinos cried out. She attempted to tug on her shadows and pull them back, but for the first time a thousand years, the shadows disobeyed her beck and call. The mass of shadows that had lain dormant at Deinos’ side ever since Trixie’s return from the dead moved on their own, forming a black shield in front of Deinos.

The shadows intercepted the blue-white beam. Then there was a high-pitched noise, like the sound of breaking glass. Then the shadows withered away, ground to nothingness under the harmonious aspect of the magic beam that had been cast by the six.

Despite the destruction of the mass of shadows, its sacrifice had not been futile. The blue-white magic beam had been diminished in intensity, and was thrown off-angle. Deinos was still barely able to move, but she avoided a potential fatal injury as the attack deflected off the shadows and sliced her right flank around the midsection before it continued to move on, fizzling out as it hit a stone wall. The spell had been designed to imitate the force of Harmony, being an expression of six ponies’s friendship as they had journeyed around Equestria. It had no practical use against non-organic substances.

Deinos just stood there for a few moments, catatonic. Her dead-eyed gaze was focused on where her shadows had been.

“GRARRGH!” Deinos cried, then finally moved her body, free at last. There was a burning pain in her right side, but she ignored it. The Pony of Shadows could no longer be called such, now that she had lost her companion of a thousand years. Instantly, she teleported.

Trixie squeaked and ducked as Deinos appeared in front of her, the alicorn frantically flinging magic around. Deinos’ attack came in rapidfire, as she summoned three fireballs and a cutting blade at once, thrusting them at Trixie, before teleporting away. Trixie summoned up a barrier to block the attacks, before running over to aid Stonehenge, who had gotten sideswiped with a storm of thorn-like dart projectiles from the alicorn in between teleportations. There wasn’t as much debris for Stonehenge to guard himself with, and so he had thrown his forelegs up to block the darts. Said forelegs were a mess of bloody gashes, with blood dripping through his grey fur everywhere.

It took Trixie a couple of seconds to get herself in the state of mind to cast the illusion that would heal Stonehenge. Once she did, she turned back around, and grimaced at the state of the field. Noire had been knocked back into a wall so hard that she was visibly dazed, holding her head in between her hooves. Iceheart stood guard in front of the bat pony, protecting her from a follow-up attack. At the same time, Iceheart also had a hoof pressed up against her neck, stanching the bleeding from Deinos' earlier puncturing of the skin. Though Noire had briefly tried to heal the wound, Iceheart had to leave the blood running as the six lined up for a perfect chance at using the Harmony-like beam again.

Deinos was frantically fighting both Windspeaker and Red Wings in what was a messy melee. Deinos would try to summon tornadoes and shoot air blades at the other two, only for them to fade out as Windspeaker used the Living Wind to shut down her mode of attack. Red Wings was leading the return offensive, shooting his own blades at Deinos, and occasionally throwing a tiny rock he had picked up. The mare would occasionally move in at Red Wings, or move in between him and Windspeaker, dodging Red Wings’ attacks so they would become friendly fire aimed at Windspeaker. All three of the ponies were visibly bleeding, with Windspeaker’s torn ear still gushing out blood, the cut to Deinos’ midsection flowing freely, and a dozen cuts and slashes on Red Wings spraying drops of blood into the air every time he jerked around in a sudden flying motion.

Trixie blinked. Wasn’t there something off about that scene? With a jerk, Trixie realised what it was. Her wound! It isn’t healing!

Indeed, it wasn’t. Where all of Deinos’ injuries had before regenerated, now the cut to her midsection was continuing to flow freely, given no chance to clot up as the alicorn was frantically fighting. Trixie took a few seconds to mull it over. It was easy to deduce that the magical beam the six had cast was somehow able to disrupt Deinos’ regeneration. So is it just that one wound that won’t stop bleeding, or will she be unable to heal any further injuries? Trixie wondered.

Trixie found the opportunity to put her budding thesis into action as Deinos suddenly doubled back and slammed into Windspeaker, sending him into the air with a sickening crunch. Trixie slowed Windspeaker’s momentum down gradually using her magic before slowing him down, while Stonehenge entered the fray to assist Red Wings. Trixie looked Windspeaker over for a few moments. The other unicorn’s irises were spaced out and he was briefly foaming at the mouth. Regardless, Windspeaker still seemed to be semi-conscious and aware of the situation he was in, however, and he quickly blinked, his eyes coming back into focus.

“‘m fine,” Windspeaker mumbled, before spitting out a large wad of blood. “No, realllly,” he added, his speech obviously slurred.

“Head over to Iceheart,” Trixie said, pointing him at Iceheart, who was still watching over the disoriented Noire. “I’ll help Red Wings and Stonehenge out again.”

Trixie gave Windspeaker no chance to respond, quickly teleporting away from the white-furred stallion and into the pitch of battle, sending a red-coloured magical spell at Deinos. The alicorn snarled, and summoned a mirror to reflect the attack towards Stonehenge. Stonehenge held his arms up to block the attack, having seen Trixie’s spell in training a hundred times. Unlike Deinos’ dart projectile attacks from earlier, Stonehenge knew Trixie’s spell merely had a bludgeoning effect, and he would rather take the brute force head on than give Deinos an opening for a follow-up strike.

Deinos flew down at Stonehenge, intending to make said follow-up strike, only to be startled as Stonehenge blocked the reflected spell instead. Deinos quickly flapped her wings to back up at the last second, but Stonehenge lashed out and managed to tap her cheek, throwing her backwards momentum off. By now, Stonehenge’s hooves had been cracked in a hundred spots, and the rough, abraded keratin had many sharp spots. A jagged edge of his hoof cut Deinos’ cheek open. Deinos quickly teleported, only to suddenly reappear in front of Stonehenge, suddenly conjuring a lance in front of her and stabbing.

The large stallion hadn’t expected her to fake a retreat, and made an awkward dodge, but still got his side sliced open for his troubles, echoing Deinos’ own earlier injury. Stonehenge attempted to parry Deinos’ next thrust, only for the alicorn to turn around and buck him in the chest with her hind legs, causing him to collapse into the ground. Turning around also allowed Deinos to see Red Wings and Trixie again. Deinos was able to stop Red Wings’ razor blades, but was too late to stop Trixie’s red bludgeoning spell again, and took a strike right to the head.

“Oof,” Deinos said, stumbling backwards, and tumbling over Stonehenge’s form. She shook her head, and quickly teleported again. As soon as Deinos landed, she scolded herself for being so quick on the draw. These ponies are too soft-hearted. There’s no way they would have sent anything close to lethal at me if it meant they might hit their friend.

Quickly, Deinos spun around and executed a fast grapple on Iceheart. The crystal pony had broken away from guarding Noire and Windspeaker and attempted to sneak up on Deinos, only for the madmare to grab her with her forehooves. Deinos in turn threw Iceheart into the air at Red Wings. The pegasus screeched in surprise as he was knocked over by the impact, and scrambled to recover and lower both himself and Iceheart.

Deinos took a step forward, only to take a gasp as she finally felt the sharp pain in her side. Looking over, she gasped as she saw the wound from the magical beam cut still there, bleeding without pause. Deinos put her hoof up to her cheek, feeling the warm blood oozing from Stonehenge’s cut as well. My wounds aren’t healing, Deinos realised with trepidation. When they destroyed my shadows, they also cut off my ability to heal.

That scared Deinos more than anything else, even more than Trixie’s ability to return from the grave. Deinos’ ability to regenerate wounds wasn’t something that she had because she was an alicorn. It was a trait of her body granted by her direct link to the heavens, and the Mœræ she served. For that magical beam to have cut off Deinos’ divinity was unfathomable. Without it, I can actually die! I’m already dying! My wounds refuse to heal! Deinos had never learned a healing spell, having always relied on her empyrean status to heal automatically, and so long as the battle continued, her body would continue to lose blood. She couldn’t afford a battle of attrition, not when her foes had ponies that could use healing spells.

Deinos decided right there she had to focus on and eliminate their leader, the only pony who could do more than just heal, but also retroactively erase injuries. Even if Trixie had somehow revived herself once, Deinos would kill her again. “Now, where is that pesky mare,” Deinos muttered, before turning around to spot Trixie. Eh? What is she doing?

Trixie just stood there, eyes slightly out of focus. Although Deinos had been deep in thought for only a couple of seconds, it was still a couple of seconds that she was open to attack. Yet Trixie hadn’t moved. It was almost as if she was in a trance. Then it clicked. There was a wild look in Deinos’ eyes, as she at last seemed to understand what Trixie was doing. “Y-you mongrel, you mortal mutt! You dare to attempt your ascension on me, on me?!” The ancient pony seemed frantic, the outrage suddenly injecting one last hint of crazed life in her weakening frame.

In a panic, Deinos flew straight at Trixie, letting out a screech not unlike a bird of prey’s hunting cry. However, even a bird of prey could be wounded, and Deinos’ own hunting cry revealed hints of weakness. Trixie quickly broke out of her trance, meeting Deinos blow for blow, as the two rapidly traded multiple spells within a split-second before Trixie finally teleported away, causing Deinos to overreach and stumble.

Trixie landed further back, standing next to Red Wings, who had finally gotten up after being bowled over by Iceheart. Their own side had been wounded and savaged, with Noire, Iceheart, Stonehenge, and Windspeaker all in varying states of injury. Red Wings and Trixie both were also lightly hurt, but were in far better shape. Trixie had come to the same conclusion Deinos had: if the battle continued on much longer, the side with six ponies would be the victor.

“Youuuu…” Deinos murmured, standing up and turning around, sheer vitriol infecting her voice. “I am a goddess sent down from the heavens with a mandate to burn everything. And you dare to become an alicorn based off my presence?!”

To Trixie, she could almost understand Deinos’ indignation. To go from being assured victory at the start of the battle, thanks to her status as an alicorn, her magic, and the literal force of destiny behind her side, to beginning to lose and now dying? If immortals were not immune to their pride growing as they aged, then Deinos must have been truly proud.

“DIE!” Deinos shouted, jumping forth at Trixie and Red Wings. Red Wings flapped his wings to send out several sharp blades of air at Deinos before him and Trixie split apart. Deinos, in her unsteady state of mind, disregarded her inability to heal, blocking with her torso and gaining several cuts to the side of her body opposite her originally slashed midsection. Her kamikaze run succeeded, however, as she managed to slam into Red Wings with a full-body strike, stomping the pegasus stallion into the ground and following it up with a vicious projectile, once more crippling Red Wings’ left wing.

Deinos broke out of her frenzy just quickly enough to remember Trixie was still around, mostly uninjured. She wouldn’t try to perform her ascension a second time, would she? Not while I’m maiming her coltfriend and she’s the last of them still healthy. Deinos jerked up, looking around the room to make sure Trixie wasn’t healing anypony else. She didn’t see Trixie healing any of the other four downed ponies, but she didn’t see Trixie either.

Suddenly, Deinos flapped her wings and flew up, as she avoided yet another bludgeoning spell. Looking over, she spotted where Trixie was, self-levitating behind one of the columns that still stood in the great throne room. “Now I’ve got you,” Deinos growled, clenching her fangs together so tight they were even puncturing her gums. Quickly, she flew up to the columns. Trixie panicked at her attack failing and being discovered, and flew away under her magic, only for Deinos to pursue.

Deinos lit a spell up in her horn, and cast it, with Trixie quickly casting a barrier in front of her. However, Deinos cancelled the spell as soon as she conjured it, and quickly accelerated right into Trixie. Magical barriers were usually only good for blocking other magical spells, and Deinos powered right through the protective dome, her horn impaling Trixie in the barrel.

Or at least, she would have impaled Trixie in the barrel, except there was absolutely no resistance to the blue mare’s form whatsoever, and Deinos went right through Trixie’s shape and out the other side.

Another blasted illusion! Deinos cursed herself at being tricked so easily, and quickly zapped the air around her to cancel out the illusion.

The air shifted, only for Deinos to spot a dark yellow beam travelling through the air, aimed at her own chest. Deinos yelped, and moved to dodge. In her sudden hysteria, however, Deinos had a split-second of confusion, and lurched the wrong way, moving down when she should have moved up. The yellow beam striking her in the face was the last thing Deinos would ever see.

Everypony in the room shuddered as the proud Pony of Shadow screeched in sudden pain, with a disturbing spray of blood shooting from her eyes. Her body jerked and her wings flapped in a mad frenzy, but Deinos quickly lost control of herself, finally surrendering to gravity as she hit the floor, making a loud tremor and causing the room to shake one last time.

Trixie landed on the floor, disbelieving what had just occurred. She had aimed for Deinos’ body, only for the alicorn to make a bad dodge and take the strike to her muzzle and eyes instead. Trixie quickly cast anti-illusion cantrips of her own, thinking for a mad second that Deinos had fooled Trixie at her own game and was lurking in the shadows, hiding behind her own illusion. It was not to be, however. The Deinos that was on the floor, dying, was the true Deinos.

“You!” Deinos suddenly flipped herself over on the floor, her body soaked in red.

“Ah!” Trixie jumped back, startled, her heartbeat rate suddenly spiking. Without thinking, Trixie grabbed a nearby rock in her telekinetic grip, and threw it at Deinos, striking the alicorn right in the horn.

The shot to the horn finally did the trick. With her second wind averted, Deinos flopped back onto the floor, muzzle and barrel looking up.

At first, the world was quiet. After a few seconds where nopony dared move or even breathe, there was the sound of hooves clopping against the stone floor of the throne room. Their trot was uneven, as ponies had to walk around or over endless pieces of stone or crevices in the floor. But at last, six ponies had gathered around the dying purple alicorn.

Deinos, Pony of Shadows, second-eldest of the four Mares of Diomedes, had been defeated.

Deinos laid on the floor, thick puddles of red beginning to coagulate around her. "I see it now," she said, her blinded eyes looking towards the heavens. "The six of you were supposed to die here today, as the Mœræ decreed. You didn't just outwit death. No. If your power of illusions is the ability to fool those around you, then you didn't just trick this mortal world of yours. You deceived destiny itself, and we who weave it."

Trixie just stood there, gazing at Deinos. She was willing to let the villain have one last monologue, but at the slightest glimpse of a suicide attack, Trixie would end the Mare of Diomedes forever.

“A pony who usurps her own destiny and lives past her preordained death...the gods will love that. You are a rare specimen. They would rather let this world continue on and let you play out your new life than to burn everything down and start all over again. Haha, even if I die early and fail to complete the several centuries of servitude I still had, they shall let me off this once. To think that this is how I, the Mœræ’s hitmare, will meet my end.”

Deinos chuckled. "Six months. That's when I would have lured those six ponies who wield the Elements of Harmony into this castle. I would have trapped them and sent them to the afterlife to reap their good fortune and karma and improve their standing for their next time in the cycle. Thereafter, I would have left this castle and plunged it into a world of famine, pestilence, war, and death. That will no longer happen, but those six months are important. If you want to trick that other princess into engaging with you, wait six months. She was destined to come here then anyways, regardless of if she meets you or me."

The alicorn then choked, coughing out a fresh glob of blood. The fine crimson spray stained her purple muzzle. "I have...a last request, of a sort."

Trixie frowned. "Do you take me for a fool, even now?"

The dying alicorn laughed softly, seeming to understand the limits of her body as it was fading out. "Not what you think. No. I told you before, didn't I? I was destined to leave this castle after today and bring blood and fire to the entire world. After many years, I would be slain, but not before resetting everything back to the beginning, to when you foals could do naught but bicker with those unlike you. A thousand years from now, the Friendship Castle, the Crystal Empire and Canterlot would be nothing more than ruins that archaeologists would have to do years of research to locate. But ponies would whisper of the boogeymare in the night, like those today mention the Windigos. I would have been given the name of Phantasmare, after my phantasmal power over the fantastic shadows."

Deinos lifted her head, her mutilated eyes still managing to somehow find Trixie. "But the title of ‘Phantasmare’ can be repurposed long before it would have been used. It can refer to a mare who walks in her own shadows, tricking and deceiving even the very heavens in her phantasmal grace, creating an endless phantasia. Take it. Use it as your own."

Trixie gazed at her, disinterested.

"Rejoice, Bellatrix Midsummer, Trixie Lulamoon," Deinos said in response to Trixie’s silence. It was the first time Deinos had called any of them by name. It would be the last. "When tomorrow you wake, it shall be your very first day as the free mare you always envisioned yourself as being. You've slipped the strings we weave, after all." The fallen mare's voice trailed off into a whisper. "Just like you helped me to slip my own. This time my death shall be eternal."

Now that Deinos was laying down, for the first time, Trixie realised the alicorn had a Cutie Mark. It was a spindle of yarn being threaded onto a loom, with the end cut off.

"Podargos, Lampon, Xanthos, I see you, my sisters."

Deinos' odd golden eyes had continued spinning even as they were blinded. Now, they began to slow down, finally coming to a complete stop. The haunting ethereal glow left Deinos’ eyes, their golden shine becoming a dulled yellow. Her eyelids closed for the very last time, as Deinos took her final breath. Then Deinos the Wondrous passed on, never to be reborn into this world again. The four Mares of Diomedes would at last be reunited.

The six ponies gathered around Deinos stood silent for a minute. Even though she had been a bloodthirsty cannibalistic madmare set on slaughtering them, the fight with Deinos had somehow felt very personal to each of them. It would only behoove them to pay her a last respect.

“Look,” Iceheart said, and the other ponies jumped as three murky silhouettes began to form around Deinos. The silhouettes gained some clarity, enough to identify them as ponies, and the three beings looked down at Deinos. One of the ponies was a brilliant green, so bright as to almost shine. Another was a sky-blue, close in shade to Trixie’s own coat, evoking a feeling of swiftness. The third was a golden-yellow of such a rich shade that none could forget her.

Trixie started as she realised the identities of the three ponies, as Deinos had mentioned them what felt like a long time ago. She was given little cause to worry, however, as the three ponies stretched their hooves out to each touch the late madmare. Deinos’ body began to disappear, until there was nothing left of her but the outline of a pony in the drying pool of blood. With her disappearance, the other three mares also vanished.

Once more, the world was silent. The scene that had just occurred was something that none of those present would discuss to their dying days, not even with one another.

Trixie raised her head.

There were many things to consider for the future. Trixie self-consciously understood she was currently unwell. She was shell-shocked from the battle, her temporary death, and the things that Deinos had revealed to her. Trixie had also just committed deicide after a fashion, as Deinos straddled a thin line between mortal pony and goddess. Trixie would have to work through both the personal ramifications of having killed for the first time and the theological ramifications of her destiny up to now having been foretold. Then she and her friends would have to discuss what to do for the future, now that they had been unyoked from their fates.

Deinos was correct about one thing. Trixie wasn't Great and Powerful, even as she had boasted about it upon her return from death. She had faked being as such for so long, but it was time to finally shed that label. Trixie would have to achieve greatness on her own.

Trixie caught something in the periphery of her eyes. Wandering over, she found a brown cloak. She remembered it. It was the cloak Deinos had worn when she first revealed herself, being tossing it aside. Was that really only an hour ago that Deinos appeared? That battle, my death, meeting my parents, returning to this world, and then fighting her once more...that was a lifetime ago. Trixie picked the cloak up. When the blood washed out of the room, this cloak would be the last physical remainder of Deinos to ever exist in this world. Folding up the cloak with her magic, Trixie laid the cloak to the side.

A chilly breeze swept through the room. Looking over at a broken window, Trixie looked at the shattered glass on the floor. An ephemeral glow swept through her eyes. Trixie knew the window was whole and had never been shattered, and there was no glass on the floor. A moment later, the window was whole, the first repair in the throne room from the castle’s last great battle.

Trixie looked over to her friends, still huddled around where Deinos’ body had been: Noire; Iceheart; Red Wings; Stonehenge; and Windspeaker. Each of them looked exhausted. Bloodied wounds stained all their coats. Iceheart's neck was still leaking drips of blood, and her hoof never left the skin. Red Wings’ left wing had once more been injured, bent at an odd angle. Windspeaker was the worst of them all. His torn ear and bloodied snout were still dribbling blood, dyeing his white coat a messy, grimy blend of pink, red, and brown. They were undoubtedly suffering the same things she was, yet to a one, they all looked resolute.

So was Trixie. She had not become an alicorn from this battle, but the Changeling Empress Anfang had said it would require fighting an alicorn twice at the most. There was still a chance, one which the madmare had hinted at before she perished. There would be many challenging days ahead, but already, the worst of them had been thrown at her, and Trixie had surpassed it. She would continue to overcome any future endeavors, each of them less difficult than overcoming the heavens themselves.

She was Phantasmare.

Author's Note

Title drop.

So that's the Castle arc. It took a couple of years, but so it's done, and clocking in at the longest arc, slightly longer than Upon the Wings of Freedom. I've been looking forward to getting this chapter and arc done. It's a massive, massive genre-shift for the story, but it helps bookend the story and was always foreshadowed. As for the next chapter, well, you know damn well by now what that's going to be about.

In my two-year hiatus, I got to thinking about the plot of the last few chapters. I was always going to have the Pony of Shadows, Three Fates, death, come-to-life, and Deinos' loss happen. However, one element that was missing in the original version of events I had outlined was the whole 'the world is a playground to determine the quality of individual souls'. Without that, it sounds a lot harsher since it would imply the gods basically just want to destroy the world and make civilisation start over for essentially shits and giggles. And the story is indeed close to finishing, so it wouldn't sit right to leave it at an ending where there's essentially a pantheon of bad gods up above. By making the change I did, it gets rid of that factor, plus it ties in a lot better with Trixie's ambition since breaking free of her destiny and becoming an alicorn is due to get her top marks. The whole idea of the Fates spinning the fabric of the universe into individual threads/souls, and sorting them out at the end of creation by the deeds each soul did in its lifetimes, is pretty much directly ripped off from the Incarnations of Immortality series.

Pretty much every element hinted or foreshadowed back in the very first chapter or even in the story's synopsis should now be revealed. Do you know that a mare defying Phantasia has been part of this story's description since Day One? Also, do you remember way, way back in the very first chapter, Trixie talking about '...only a single wing of the grand castle had been repaired within the last month from the last great battle it had seen...' Yeah. Obviously that's meant to imply something like the Mane 6 fighting against Nightmare Moon or the original battle between Celestia and Nightmare Moon, until now you find out it isn't...

Over time, I've made a tiny few changes to the very first chapter. I can't really remember most of them, though I think I have a raw copy posted on another site that I can compare it to. I'm fairly sure most of them were just making the writing tighter. I made one substantive change with this chapter, though. Trixie wears a purple robe in the first chapter. It has since been changed to a brown cloak. Two whole words changed, 200k words down the line.

So, I want to talk about that very first chapter of this story again. Trixie fought destiny, and pulled off an illusion so great it managed to trick destiny itself, changing the future history of the world from its grimmer route. As far as deeds go, that's a pretty convincing case for her to become an alicorn, and it's also why she dislikes the whole notion of destiny. Twilight doesn't know that her own original destiny was to get swallowed up as a power boost for Deinos, either.

There was no real symbolism or anything with Deinos' golden eyes always spinning. I had it there for two reasons. The first was to give Deinos a mysterious/cool vibe with a body attribute that was extremely unusual and a vaguely horrifying feeling. The second was to give her another marker of death in the end, as her rotating eyes finally come to a complete stop. This one I can actually trace the inspiration to. It's not animu, surprisingly. Rather, there was a book I read in my pre-teens that I believe was a Fear Street book, where when the villain dies, his eyes roll back in his head. I was struck by that

Finally. Do you know that I have yet to watch the last few episodes of Seasons 7, or any of Seasons 8 or 9? When I write fanfiction, if I know of a fic similar to an idea of my own, I refrain from reading that fanfic until after I've written my idea, so I don't get influenced by others. Same for watching Season 7's finale, which I knew had the Pony of Shadows. I hope my own version of the Pony of Shadows comes off better than Season 7's. Now that this arc is done, I can finally go watch it!

In the End

Five Years After The Magic Duel

The stones rumbled slightly under her hooves, even the thousand-year-old masonry unable to dispel the tremors of a wild lightning strike nearby. In foalhood, the vicious thunderstorms that occasionally tore through the countryside terrified her, in spite of understanding the pegasi weather corps controlled the clouds, preventing them from causing any true damage. As a fully grown mare, she was unfazed by the sound of thunder even as she had taken refuge in the untamed Everfree. Here, the storms could roll over her territory, unabated for days.

She wondered sometimes at her choice for habitat. Common parlance would declare her a squatter, occupying an abandoned wreck only a relative stone’s throw away from the site of her greatest humiliation. The azure-coloured mare thought otherwise, wishing to honour the two pony sisters who ruled the realm, even as she aspired to the same lofty heights they were born into.

Another bolt of lightning struck, this one far closer. As if challenging her right to be here, a window pane at the far end of the room shattered, surviving for a thousand years before falling prey to nature’s wrath. She didn’t blink.

The pink of her eyes built up as she cast her magic, an effect of her pilgrimage through the lands of her home and beyond. The crystalline fragments of the window disappeared. An incalculable fragment of a second later, the glass reappeared in the window frame, whole and improved, her little defiance for the night against the physical realm.

Trixie Lulamoon let out a brief sigh. The feeling of fatigue had become a rare feeling for her, until she set up camp in the Everfree. Here, magic ran free and unordered, as unpredictable as the bonds between ponies. That this castle in the heart of chaos also held the Tree of Harmony never failed to tickle her sense of iorny. Trixie knew what she had been getting into, relearning her craft from scratch in a place where magic itself was different. That only a single wing of the grand castle had been repaired within the last month from the last great battle it had seen was testament to that.

“Trixie,” A voice called down from the opposite end of the large chamber she had staked out as their training room, “What did you want for dinner tonight?”

Trixie turned to eye the speaker, a Pegasus who defined the colour red. He was red from his hair to his mane to his Cutie Mark, a pair of red wings, even to the unusual red pigmentation of his irises, leaving half of his Cutie Mark, his pupils and the whites of his eyes as the only non-red part of him. Very few ponies could ever hope to perceive the incredibly tiny difference between his right and left wing, but Trixie was one of the few who could. After all, she was the pony who had healed his broken form. “If there are any of the white and red water-lilies left, I will have them in a soup,” Trixie said.

“Very well,” The Pegasus said, “I will call you again when food is ready.” Giving her a wink, he achieved lift-off from a still position, flapping backwards through the grand door and out to where Trixie knew the makeshift kitchen to be.

The former stage magician turned to look back outside, sight piercing the relentless torrent of rain, ears listening past its patter, to the edge of the Everfree Forest, where a single crystalline tower could be seen rising above the surrounding trees. Twice before had she come to blow with the alicorn who lived in that palace. Trixie hardly believed in the Fates Three, even if recent events implied their existence, but it seemed as if the last half-decade had been building up to this.

“Three days,” Trixie whispered to herself. “Three days, and then this will all be over.”

Another flash of lightning, this one illuminating the town of Ponyville, so close and yet so far. Change was coming on the Living Wind.

“Trixie!”

It was a simple, single word, a name, but the weight it carried was insurmountable. The speaker shouted it with rage, hatred, sorrow, confusion, a contradicting cacophony of emotions toward its intended target. Even as an expert on the nuances of language, the mare who had yelled it wasn’t sure if it was a declaration, a question, or an ultimatum.

The unicorn who the word was hurled at finally turned to face her accuser. She was wearing a plain brown cloak and a single piece of jewelry. “Oh, it’s you.”

Princess Twilight Sparkle choked on her voice, trying and failing to find words for a few seconds, before she managed to grind them out, “That’s it? That’s all you have to say after this madness, Trixie?”

'Madness' was a loaded term.

In using it, Twilight referred partly to the ponies that had barred her on the way into the old Castle of the Pony Sisters, ones that had apparently been recruited by Trixie as allies: a mammoth Earth pony, a stallion who dwarfed even Princess Celestia in size; a frozen-in-time vanquisher of the bitter spirits of the frozen North who even Sombra had hesitated to intimidate; a defector of the Royal Guard with far too many esoteric abilities, seemingly capable of using magic of all three tribes; a Pegasus whose dreams of freedom made him one of the most dangerous ponies alive; and a cocksure unicorn who fancied himself the Living Wind. Between those five ponies of diverse talents and the creatures that had come to this bizarre sextet’s aid, they had managed to hector both Twilight’s friends, the retinue of the Royal Guard that had come along with her, and their other assorted helpers. By the time Twilight had reached the mastermind, she was the only one left to press forward.

Mostly, however, in using the term 'madness', Twilight Sparkle referred specifically to the pony standing before her in the Castle’s throne room, wearing the Alicorn Amulet that had started and ended the mess that was their second encounter, and the insane scheme that Trixie Lulamoon had concocted.

“Madness?” Her opposite retorted with a hint of indignation, Trixie’s tone cool but slightly clenched, intent on keeping their sparring to the verbal arena for the moment. “I don’t see what the fuss is all about here. As far as I know, the only thing I’ve done wrong was to harbour somepony that went AWOL in a situation where she thought the state was persecuting her. Maybe Iceheart too, but she never joined the Equestrian army in the first place. In her case, I think a thousand years of service was more than enough.”

Twilight gritted her teeth, wings held in tight to her belly, unwilling to put up with Trixie’s banter, and said, “I meant your blatant desire to become an alicorn, Trixie.”

Both knew what Twilight had meant in the first place, but only one had attempted to deflect. There was no more dodging, but now instead of leaping out of the way Trixie twisted around the words. “Ah, that. Again, I don’t see the issue. Cadence and you both ascended within this lifetime, so it should be perfectly doable for me. There’s certainly no law against trying, either, unless it's buried within the pages of thousand-year-old statutes. Hmm, maybe I committed a crime here?” Always the showoff, Trixie gestured to her surroundings, the inner sanctum of the Castle of the Pony Sisters, once a wrecked throne room, now in near-new condition. “I suppose this might be considered trespassing, but after a thousand years I think it’s safe to call it abandoned. It was never declared a historical monument, so really, all the fixing-up can’t be illegal either.”

Though she was often thought to be unfailingly patient by most of Ponyville, the few who knew her much closer knew Twilight Sparkle could easily be riled up with the right actions or words. In that instant, she almost shook with anger. Almost. “I mean that you aren’t destined to become an Alicorn, Trixie!” Even as she said those words, Twilight felt the rage leaking out of her, knowing it was a poor argument that wouldn’t have merited a passing grade if she had still been a student.

If it had been Twilight’s goal to elicit a moment of frothing rage from her once self-declared rival, she would have seen a resounding success.

“Don’t you dare use that word!” Trixie hissed, her eyes bulging as she started to move forward, only holding herself back after her first hoofstep. “DESTINY? Was it DESTINY then that made me brag about deeds I never accomplished, bringing an Ursa Minor down on me? Was it DESTINY that caused me to purchase the Amulet and take over Ponyville? Did DESTINY decide that I was to be a mere stepping block for you on your own way to becoming a Princess?” She allowed herself a few seconds to pant heavily, Twilight prevented from speaking as she recoiled at the ferocity of Trixie’s words. Trixie visibly relaxed, bewildering Twilight with how much tension the younger mare had held at least since Twilight had confronted her. “If that was all so-called destiny, then buck destiny.” And so she had already, in a sense.

The beneficiary of so-called destiny struggled to hold her tongue, but failed. “No, but being a nasty pony was all your own doing,” said Twilight.

It didn’t trigger a second outburst like Twilight Sparkle had expected. Instead, Trixie just let out a small ‘hmph’, tossing up her head before coyly remarking, “And I imagine if you had been just like the old me in personality, you still would have become a Princess?” She shook her head. “I’ve heard of how you would study for days and nights straight as Celestia’s student. You achieved it on your own merits, with a bit of luck, not because somepony ages ago said you would get wings.”

Twilight had already seen how Trixie had reacted darkly over the idea of destiny, and how she was beginning to rant about it. Even if Trixie was a mere unicorn, she still could cause damage with the Alicorn Amulet if she got furious enough, and so Twilight sought to derail her. “What would your mother September think, or your father Wooden Chisel?” Twilight quickly asked, fumbling at ideas to make the madmare in front of her stop. “Wouldn’t they want Bellatrix Midsummer to succeed in life instead of chasing after something that will only lead to despair?”

Twilight wasn’t quite sure what she expected when she invoked Trixie’s true birth name. She didn’t expect Trixie to laugh, a hearty chuckle that nearly left her face red with its ferocity. “Oh, that’s rich! So you finally found out where Trixie came from, and the names of her parents! Maybe you even found out that she worked like an earth pony when she was young hauling hay and wheat, or that her father built her first cart for her. Perhaps you found out her fillyhood crush, the stallion she had a few lays with, or the exact location of her two birthmarks. Truly, Trixie is amused that you finally found her a threat enough to look into her origins, even if you still fail to appreciate Trixie’s true art.”

Yet Twilight knew her words had prickled something in Trixie. Trixie herself may not even have noticed it, but for those few brief moments, she had adopted her old habit of referring to herself in the third pony.

With a flourish of her robes, Trixie turned around, Twilight finding herself strangely mesmerised as her nemesis demonstrated the ease she pulled off a graceful canter, no doubt from her years working as a showmare. Quickly swiveling back around, Trixie spoke once more, slipping back into first pony speech, “No matter though, I am certain my parents would have approved. I’ve worked hard these last few years, you know. I’ve seen, touched the realm above.”

Princess Twilight Sparkle shivered at those words. The royal sisters had thought as much, but this was just confirmation that there was no turning back.

“Please, Trixie." She found herself practically pleading regardless, even as she readied a spell on the tip of her horn, many long hours of practice finally paying off as there was no glow to indicate her charged magic. “Stop this madness. Turn back now. The Great and Powerful Trixie wouldn’t let herself be used by the Alicorn Amulet again, would she?”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie is no more,” Trixie declared, “I felt it would dishonour the only one to ever truly defeat me.”

Twilight paused, partly surprised at the fact that Trixie had finally dropped the appellations she was notorious for, and partly from confusion at the latter remark. “But I’ve never called you anything other than Trix—“

“It wasn’t you,” Trixie said, cutting her off. “You were a challenge, yes, and you outwitted me at my own trade, but you never truly had the aggression to really win. She, on the other hoof, was a menace to all of ponykind, neigh, all living things, and it was only luck that I vanquished her even as I was beaten. In turn, she gave unto me the name of Phantasmare.” Trixie sighed, the breath of ages releasing itself from her lungs as she looked down at the floor. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, honestly.”

“Because you want to be helped,” Twilight gently responded, thinking about how she might be able to destroy the Alicorn Amulet with a carefully timed blast, her skills at delicate magic improved since the last time she had faced off against the madmare equipped with the Amulet. “You know what you’re doing is wrong, and you want to be eased off the path you’re galloping down. Just take it off. If you come with me and train under me, you might even be able to become an Alicorn in time under your own power, not the Amulet’s.” Twilight's last sentence was a lie, and it fell to ashes in her mouth. Trixie had devoted no small effort into her latest scheme, after all.

For once, Trixie didn’t respond right away with words. Instead, she slowly raised her head. It was the first time that Twilight felt there was no act to Trixie. The unicorn had a small smile, a barely visible curl of the lips. It was a sad smile. Trixie raised a hoof to the Alicorn Amulet, and in that instant Twilight knew—

—and suddenly, Twilight fired a condensed beam of scarlet mana at the Amulet, the spell a forbidden one capable of unravelling even the most powerful artifacts—

—and with little visible effort, Trixie batted the spell aside with her raised hoof, the beam tearing a large gouge in the stone wall, the sound of falling rock and the sight and taste of grit and dust in the air. With a blink, Trixie had vanished, even the telltales of magical leftovers undetectable to Twilight Sparkle.

Twilight reacted on a sense that was something even higher than instinct, an ethereal prescience of what was to come available only to the Alicorns, and teleported, moving several hoofsteps to the left. Even as a searing blow of force meant to debilitate sent shrapnel flying, she was already casting, one spell to shield herself against the flying splinters of rock, another an arcane blast of raw power to find her enemy. The ancient Diamond Dog illusionist Hound-Inu had been clear on that – when lacking the talent to counter the fog of the senses, only the power of will was sufficient to pierce reality’s veil.

It wasn’t so much the sound of shattering glass as it was a similar sensation several dimensions above the four ponies normally operated in that alerted Twilight, and she moved again. Her first instinct was a doppelganger spell, but she quickly vetoed that idea: never attempt a spell that her opponent was a master at. She didn’t know it for a fact, but the traps that Trixie had laid within the Everfree Forest to immobilise the attackers were circumstantial evidence enough.

Instead, Twilight leaped into the air, her natural Earth pony strength complementing her wings as she touched the ceiling, her hooves sticking to the surface in a trick she had picked up from the batponies, whose evolutionary divergence from the pegasi had seen it become natural instinct.

Twilight’s eyes widened as she felt the magical backlash from the broken illusion pass through the point Twilight had just been. It was a normal side-effect of unravelling a spell, but that much would have seriously maimed her. Trixie’s strength had grown significantly to be capable of pouring that much power into just one spell. What was more, it hadn’t even done much, as Trixie was still nowhere to be seen, nor was she giving herself away to any of Twilight’s physical or magical senses.

All the while ready to teleport at the slightest hint of a move from the nemesis, Twilight focused. Quickly inverting a normal spell matrix in her head, Twilight laid a circle on the ceiling with a quick stomp of her hooves, the shape quickly glowing as runic patterns engraved themselves, prodded into shape by Twilight’s magic. With a last fusion of energy into the circle, Twilight waited, and watched as it fizzled out. She cursed quietly. That had been a LaFlanke’s Demon spell, supposed to give the caster an inequine perception of the future, able to see all the routes the next few seconds could take.

That it hadn’t worked meant Trixie was operating at a level higher than any of the non-divine trainers Twilight had ever practiced against. Sighing, and notching her opponent up several threat levels once again, the Alicorn Princess released her mental restraints, put in place so she could deal with mortal ponies. Trixie might be mortal, but she was no longer a normal opponent with normal amounts of power.

Magic filled Twilight, magic became Twilight and the world was a mere derivative of the twilight.

There! A precise force shield the size of her hoof sprung up in front of her, blocking a beam of magic an emerald green that curdled Twilight’s stomach just looking at it. The beam reflected off the shield before smashing into a balcony, stonework falling down. Twilight grit her teeth at the noise even as she took to the air, and created an energy dome around her form, a talent she had picked up from her brother.

Unlike her brother, Twilight Sparkle had strayed beyond defense into offense, and the dome fell apart as it fed thousands of tiny pinpricks of magic, launched faster than the speed of sound outwards. The lasers may have been tiny, but they were legion, and as they radiated out from Twilight in a blast zone, the radii between each pinprick never differed more than a few millimetres. Unless Trixie had become a Breezie in the last few minutes, there was no way she could dodge all of them.

Twilight narrowed her eyes as a series of energy bolts stopped in mid-air. The spell itself was harmless, leaving little dots of paint, but to the superior eyesight of an Alicorn it was as if it had painted a target on the otherwise invisible Trixie.

The air shimmered around the target, and Trixie lifted a hoof, brushing paint off her fur with one hoof, her horn glowing as she removed the robe from her body. “Well well Princess, it seems you’ve gotten more clever over—” She was cut off as an energy beam stared her in the face. Just at it seemed Trixie would be knocked out in one hint, the unicorn disappeared, the beam instead gouging a hole in the side wall.

Twilight Sparkle didn’t even think, her own body also teleporting so she wouldn’t remain at the disadvantage of Trixie knowing where she was in the room, and not vice versa. Twilight wasn’t surprised that Trixie had picked up the skill of teleporting in the last five years, given the former showmare’s other spells so far, but Twilight really should have expected it wouldn’t be that easy. Trixie had done it so effortlessly, not even hesitating to teleport.

Her senses quickly cast out, hoping to find Trixie before the other pony could cast another one of those damnable illusions. They were too effective by half, standing up to Twilight’s scrutiny and sending multiple Royal Guards astray. Twilight bared her teeth in a feral grin unbecoming of a noble Princess as she sensed Trixie. It seemed the Amulet was making Trixie even more cocky than normal again, as she wasn’t even hidi—

Twilight teleported again to dodge an energy beam of Trixie’s own, her heart running even harder than before in a mad panic. She could still feel the heat from the laser, inches away from smacking her in the nose. Twilight didn’t let her pony instincts run rampant, crushing the temptation to flee and throwing an energy beam at where Trixie’s energy beam had come from, savage glee overtaking panic as her blood burned from the fire of the battle. It didn’t last as she felt a brief blip in the surroundings of the room, Trixie teleporting once more, as Twilight knew she would.

“You know what Trixie thinks the only bad part about being an alicorn must be? Your wings make you a bigger target. I certainly wouldn’t ever let my wings spr—” The voice was cut off as Twilight launched another attack at Trixie before teleporting.

Twilight regretted never learning to self-levitate, having depending on her wings to fly since obtaining them. Trixie was right in that regard, but still: Twilight may already be getting into the heat of the fight, but she simply wasn’t savage enough to even consider clipping another pony’s wings, if not cutting them. If Trixie was hinting at what she might do, then the Alicorn Amulet might already be heavily influencing her. Unfortunately, Twilight didn’t have time to sit around analysing Trixie’s beam spells to figure if they were for blunt force or for cutting.

In a blink, Twilight teleported again, throwing out multiple attacks this time, and threw up another shield even as Trixie returned fire, the two magic-wielders getting into a third and final rematch, this time for keeps of their lives’ purpose. Twilight only had enough time to cast a cooling spell over her body to stop from overheating in between the multiple teleports and spell casts, straight energy beams giving way into looping energy beams, homing orbs of power that took precious seconds to dispel, fireballs every colour of the spectrum of the rainbow and more, jagged bolts of lightning that left Twilight’s wings tingling, and solid daggers of ice. Twilight Sparkle used every field and element of battle magic she knew except for wind, and gave as much as and more than she took.

It wasn’t enough.

“Wha—” Twilight didn’t even have time to completely form an exclamation of surprise as she teleported right into a shadow taken solid form, the phantasmal spectre smacking her into the nearest wall. It felt like she had been hit with the full force of one of the battering rams of old, worse than Rainbow Dash crashing through a window into Twilight, only luck making it her back side that cracked the stone wall before she flopped to the ground.

Pain filled Twilight Sparkle, but she soothed it away with multiple spells within the first two seconds. Her teeth may have been rattled, but it could have been worse: she could have hit the wall face-first to the front, breaking her jaw, knocking out teeth and snapping her horn. That would have required considerably more time to heal from.

Picking herself up off the floor, Twilight grit her teeth, even as she detached the tiny segment of space around her from the greater timeline, moving back in time several seconds. After applying the anti-paradox spell paradigms and stepping back into the world of moments ago, she growled as she was incapable of perceiving her opponent. How could this be? A unicorn not only matching an alicorn horn-for-horn in a magical duel of both strength and stamina, casting multiple energy beams and teleporting all over the place, but actually winning?

What was more, Trixie appeared to have overspecialised in illusions to the point Twilight was only able to decipher the most elementary of them. Five long years ago, Trixie had been nothing, her talent boosted by the arcane Alicorn Amulet at the cost of her sanity. Now, it seemed Trixie herself was in control, and the progress the mare had made was astonishing. What was more, the longer the battle ran the more her thaumaturgic prowess seemed to increase, as if Twilight was a living star, and Trixie had executed an orbital slingshot around her, picking up speed as their fight progressed.

Well, Trixie had claimed to have studied over the last few years, but still. When Twilight herself had been training, she found it difficult to believe five years had made that big a difference.

Twilight assessed her options. It didn’t take long for her to realise what they were, and the Princess of Friendship wanted to cry. Unfortunately for Trixie, she had defeated herself with her cleverness by splitting up Twilight and her friends. If Twilight had had her friends here, they could have brought Trixie back from the brink with the Elements of Harmony. Twilight Sparkle closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she could See. “Trixie!” Twilight barked as a distraction, her mouth nearly on autopilot as her hooves quickly flashed out, drawing lines of raw magic in the air.

It was a shame that only those possessed of Sight could see it, for when Twilight had first created this shape of non-Euclopidean proportions it had left her breathless with its beauty, both in its form and the seductive promises of power it promised. Her inability to describe what she saw was one of the few academic thrills that Twilight had left, its indefinable lines and even the colour of the multi-dimensional creation one of the few things that Twilight struggled with, and ergo knew an eternity would pass before she ran out of things to solve. After this battle, the power behind Trixie’s illusions would be another thing she could add to that short list.

The Princess of Magic’s hooves stopped, and she activated the construct. Nature abhorred a magical vacuum, and so it filled the spell, engorging it with energy far surpassing the ambient magical density even this deep into the Everfree Forest. Every beat of blood from her heart brought to her cells a new dose of adrenaline, and Twilight could feel herself shaking in time with the spell, its original stillness displaced by the vibrating power that threatened to tear apart the foundations of the spell matrix.

Twilight held the construct within her mind for as long as she could. When she felt as if she could go on no longer, her lungs compressed to their minimum capacity and the non-stop sweat stinging her eyes, she let go, blinking briefly as she teleported away from the throne room, landing on the ground of the Everfree Forest outside their chamber of battle.

The windows were the first to go, the shattering of a thousand panes of glass all united in a horrifying crystalline beauty of sound. Mere fractions of a second later the high pitch of the shattered windows was drowned out by a large, overwhelming roar, as superheated compressed air shot out the windows, only the natural magic of the Everfree preventing the surrounding trees from being lit afire by the overwhelming heat.

Twilight Sparkle winced as she heard a large thud from inside the throne room, and saw a torrent of dust and dirt rising into the evening outdoors. Despite Trixie’s mad scheme, fixing up the castle had been a good idea of hers, and now Twilight’s spell to kill her had apparently damaged the roof.

She counted the passage of several minutes, casting her senses out for her friends, and found herself disappointed. As usual, the natural chaos of the Everfree blocked her from sifting too far into the world, and she could not tell what was going on in the battles she had left them behind in. Twilight supposed that so long as she cut off the head of the proverbial snake, the body might flail for a few hours, but it would eventually give in.

A soft breeze swept through the night. It sounded almost like whispering. Even through all her fur, Twilight shivered, only now realising how sweat clung to her.

At last satisfied that enough energy had been vented out from the throne room that she would no longer cook, Twilight took to the air, flapping her wings to gain lift, a dozen minor spells instinctively cast to protect her face and horn from the dust and dirt that had been kicked up and still lingering in the air, filtering out pure air for her to breathe.

Eyes as good as any pegasus pierced the hazy interior of the throne room, and the romantic historian in Twilight cried out in horror. Gone were the tapestries of sun and moon, ones which Rarity had spent some time years ago on fixing up. The organ that Pinkie Pie had fooled with had been shattered, a priceless artifact of the pre-Nightmare Moon era destroyed just like that. The architecture of the stairs and railing leading up to the raised stage was no more, and the ground was littered with glass, stone and metal. Twilight’s heart sang with despair, and only her noticing the thrones had been removed from the throne room, presumably by Trixie or one of her minions, kept her from bursting out in tears.

“How disappointing.”

Twilight’s head snapped up, and a growl began to form in her vocal cords. She hadn’t been entirely certain the blast would take out Trixie, though it did the job of breaking whatever illusion Trixie had been hiding. However, the blue-furred unicorn didn’t appear to have even been singed, blood, bone and fur virtually unharmed by the blast. Even more, Trixie was floating in the air, yet another trick she had saved until late in their fight. Twilight Sparkle could count on her hooves how many unicorns she knew who were capable of self-levitation and still have hooves left over.

Trixie cocked her head, and now the dust was beginning to finally clear out, and Twilight stirred with disgust even as her throat burned, the strenuous magic she had been pulling out causing acid reflux. Gone were her robes, to where they went Twilight didn’t know, if they weren’t another illusion Trixie had conjured up. Trixie was normally possessed of fur a lustrous shade of blue not dissimilar to the sky on a clear day, but now her hair colour was a far lighter blue like water tinged with a drop of food dye. What was more, the glow of magic around Trixie’s horn was red. Her irises, normally close in shade to Twilight’s own magenta, were a haunting crimson of fresh blood, and Twilight felt an unsettling feeling, uncertain if the shade of red was from her dark magic or from the albinism that seemed to be settling in on the unicorn.

Despair was making a strong claim for Twilight’s soul, but she had to try, “Trixie, please take off the Amulet. This obviously isn’t you.”

Trixie sneered. “What are you talking about, Princess Twilight Sparkle?” The mocking tone she placed in Twilight’s royal title was obvious. “Trixie feels more like herself than she has in five years! This is perfect!”

She was right about that, Twilight thought to herself. This situation was perfectly wrong. Being able to escape one of Twilight’s strongest attacks unscathed meant that Twilight would have to attempt what she had never committed before.

It was a maxim of military ponies, something Twilight had heard from her brother and her battle magic trainers on several occasions: it was far more difficult to subdue a fighting pony than it was to kill her.

“Very well." Twilight grit her teeth, and her eyes glowed white even as her mane became streaked with wild stripes of yellow, purple and light pink, six-sided stars appearing around her hooves. Magic flowed out of her in ethereal waves, pulsing in time to her heartbeat as the seat of her mana infused her depleted blood, replacing the effused power. The power of Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship, Princess of Magic turned visible as it floated around the room, coating the entire area in the essence of twilight.

Trixie observed, a smirk on her pale lips, only trickles of colour left on her body outside her eyes. “Trixie finds this amusing. Do you really believe you can beat the Great and Powerful Trixie and her illusions?!”

That’s right, keep talking...Twilight thought to herself as Trixie stuck out her chest, as if she were intent on proving the proverb of pride before the fall. Forty five seconds...forty seconds...She could provide her own distract, actually. “You won’t win, Trixie,” Twilight proclaimed.

“Is that so? Is Princess Twilight purple with envy over Trixie’s skill? Oops,” Trixie giggled, a weird dissonance as the pitch of her voice was dropping, “You’re already purple!”

“And you’re turning white,” said Twilight. “Is this skill you speak of really worth turning over your independence, dignity and sanity to the Alicorn Amulet, Trixie?!”

The snarl that crossed Trixie’s lips was easy to spot even if she vanquished it quickly, but Twilight would have sworn she saw a tinge of violet in the unicorn mare’s eyes for the briefest of moments. No matter, Twilight thought to herself even as she struggled to keep her own eyes from tearing up with water. Trixie had been a bit of an arrogant braggart the first time they had met but had still attempted to stop the Ursa Minor, and she managed to turn back from the whispers of the Amulet in their second meeting.

Twilight Sparkle had apparently been a chosen one of destiny when she was young to become the wielder of the Element of Magic and later a Princess. Was it that same fate that demanded she kill Trixie Lulamoon this day? Twilight could suddenly see why Trixie hated destiny, if this was what cruel fate it had in store for her.

“Trixie thinks you don’t know what you’re talking about, Twilight Sparkle,” Trixie declared. “For Trixie, winning this battle is as simple as an illusi-er, an illusi-er, an illu-Trixie demands to know what is going on here!” The mare’s arrogance had collapsed into panic within seconds as Trixie had repeated herself twice over before finally breaking.

Twilight smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile. It wasn’t a vengeful smile.

“What did you do to Trixie?!”

“It’s simple, Trixie,” Twilight said slowly as if she was explaining to a dim-witted filly, though in truth she was delaying to gather more energy for her last spell. “This room is coated in my magic taken mist form. It doesn’t matter how good your illusions are when your very essence, your very soul is incapable of hiding from this mist.”

Trixie trembled, before sneering again, “No matter, I’ll just-just-just-no!,” she exclaimed, and Twilight could swear she saw violet again past the red.

“You’re not going anywhere, Trixie,” Twilight said with a grimace, her magic holding the other pony in a strong telekinetic grasp, simultaneously preventing Trixie from teleporting. “Rainbow power wasn’t meant to be wielded this way, but just this once I’ll make an exception. I gave you several chances to turn back. Sadly, it seems you weren’t strong enough to resist the Amulet this time.”

“No! No! NO!” Trixie thrashed and struggled, but the magic constraining her allowed a movement measured in mere centimetres.

“For what it’s worth Trixie, I’m sorry,” Twilight apologised, tears running freely down her face even as she built the same spell bomb as she had earlier, its size expanded by her use of Rainbow Power. “I can only hope that you find peace wherever it is ponies end up after death, and that the Amulet won’t survive this to corrupt another pony ever again. Hush, Trixie.” She brushed the now fully-white showmare’s cheek. “It’ll cost me some of my precious remaining magic, but I’ll even stay as a witness to your death. Maybe I’m not as good as you are at illusions, but I’ve still learned how to become incorporeal. This bomb won’t affect me.”

Twilight finally took a step back, moving several steps away. She judged how much longer the bomb could gather magic for. With thirty seconds left, she set the bomb on autopilot. With quick spells to modify her senses, Princess Twilight Sparkle cast the last spell of the battle, one to turn her form temporarily insubstantial to reality. Energy couldn’t phase her in this form, and so she would watch as Trixie died. A Princess had to be responsible, and for the first pony she would ever kill, Twilight would watch her end to remind herself of how tragic death was.

“Goodbye, Trixie.”

She counted the seconds in her head, keeping an eye on the radiant bomb and the ensnared mare sitting in front of it. Twilight was taking no chances here, an enormous explosion at point-blank range was certain to smash any last-minute protections the Alicorn Amulet might have to protect its bearer against death. Trixie’s eyes seemed impossible wide, her mouth open in what may have been a loud scream. Twilight burned the sight into her memory.

Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Thre-

Trixie’s mouth suddenly closed, her lips curled upwards, and her eyes narrowed. Her horn glowed violet.

Twilight didn’t have the chance to react as she felt herself being pulled back into the physical world. Panic set in as she realised she too would be exposed to the impending explosion. Nonononono-

The world exploded.

She attempted to open her eyes. The scent of iron was strong, her tongue numb to its taste.

With a struggle, she managed to weakly crack her right eye open, then closed it just as quick, the gust of wind through the open wall stinging it with the fine particles left behind by their battle.

The wind. Something about that word bothered her. There was something about a unicorn who was too good with wind magic, pale not as a natural coat but the deficiency of all colour. The medical documents left behind indicated it appeared to be albinism, but his eyes…

Groaning, she focused her attention on each of her limbs in turn. Although in great pain, a quick diagnostic cantrip showed nothing was broken. Finding the floor, she staggered her way to a standing position, front hooves first, then her back. The effort cost her dearly as it felt like all the blood on her body, inside and out, had congealed in her head, threatening to pull her over into gravity’s sweet embrace. It was good she had yet to open her eyes, lest she see double, perhaps even triple.

Triple. That was the second word that tickled a spot in her currently limited mental capacity. Triple, triple, triple, trippy, trippie, trickie…

Her one good eye shot open as she finally remembered.

Even with her other eye sealed shut by blood and mucus, Twilight Sparkle didn’t need the extra depth perception to take in the scene before her.

At last, she opened her muzzle—

—and the words “It’s over” came from Twilight’s mouth.

End

Author's Note

In case it wasn't obvious between the context of this chapter itself and the chapter name, this begins in media res, so the next chapter will pull you all the way back to the chronological beginning. I will probably change a few lines here and there in this beginning bit as the story goes on, but this first chapter? Very important.

This is a sequel to There’s No Place Like Home. It’s a short one-shot and isn’t really required reading for Phantasmare. However, there is one essential plot detail from TNPLH that gets spoiled in the next chapter, and it sets up for the location of the story's first arc.

As a writer, one of my quirks is that I like to take several paragraphs before revealing a character’s name, after which I’ll use his or her name on a regular basis. In spite of this, I did not once use the words ‘lavender unicorn’ ;) (well, Twi's an alicorn now, but you know what I mean)

Stasis: Beyond

The cold set in as soon as they left the protective confines of the shield created by the Crystal Heart. It was a bitter cold, one that leached through their heavy clothing, through their fur and skin layers and blood to settle in their bones, as if the cold were a living, sentient entity that sought to make up for its inability to bypass the barrier. Knowing the legends of the Windigos, Trixie thought that might actually be true.

Even worse was the wind. At times, the world was calm, the landscape and the sky white as far as the eye could see, with Trixie and Noire the only two bits of colour in a colourless world. Then the wind would kick up all at once, going from still air to a howling gale that threatened to turn them deaf, attempting to sweep the two ponies off their hooves and pushing against them when they trotted uphill.

“H-how many h-hooflengths did they say the fort was from the city?,” Noire asked, teeth occasionally chattering even through the enchanted clothing and warming spells. They had found strong sunglasses to protect against the albedo of the snowpack, and so did not need a third layer of cantrips to deal with the sun’s harsh rays.

“Twenty thousand or so,” Trixie said, chancing a look back to see the pale glow of the dome around the Crystal Empire, made more difficult with the tinted sunglasses she wore to protect against sun-blindness. Making a rough estimate in her head on the distance they had already travelled, she added, “I would say we’re about three-quarters of the way there.”

“I’m be-beginning to wish they gave us m-military conditioning for this now,” Noire said, having to tense her jaw muscles to keep from chattering again.

“It’s why as soon as we decided to leave to the Crystal Empire I started letting my coat grow out,” Trixie said. “I did recommend you do the same.”

“Yeah, but I thought we were going to stay under the dome the entire time. Oh Celestia not another one,” Noire said. By this time, the two had approached another hill. Even with their light steps, their limbs still occasionally would sink almost up to their knees in soft snow, and without her wings to lessen the weight of her step, Noire found herself in yet another trough.

“I doubt invoking Celestia’s name will get you much up here,” Trixie remarked, looking up at the sky. Several hours had passed since the two had left the Empire just past sunrise. The sun itself was nearing its overhead zenith. Soon, noon would pass, and it would begin to fall into the endless chasm of the abyssal sky over yonder.

Noire snorted as she continued on, making good pacing up the hill. “Perhaps I should have been a bigger rebel as a teenager and joined an anarchist group or, better yet, a Discordian cult.”

“Were you much of a rabble-rouser then?” Trixie asked, managing to keep her spirits up through the cold. Considering Noire had joined the Royal Guard, she didn’t expect anything the batpony had done to compare to what Trixie herself did, touring the country as a performing showmare.

“Not…really…” Said Noire, stopping to catch her breath as the two hit a particularly steep portion of the climb. Trixie, following right behind her, found herself taking in deep gulps of air as her legs strained to make the climb.

Trixie paused. “Wait, why am I climbing this anyways? Hold on, Noire.”

“Hold on? What do you mean-WHOA!”

Where before Noire had eyed the top of the hill with a grimace, she was now surveying a field of flat ice plains. It didn’t take long to clue in what had occurred. Turning around, she said, “Warn me a little bit better than ‘hold on’ the next time you do that.”

“I did. I said ‘hold on, Noire’, not ‘hold on’.”

Noire let out another snort, briefly watching the wisp of moisture that had erupted from her nostrils disappear into the brutal arctic air, before turning back around. “Cheeky,” she mumbled. Noire looked up at the sky again, only to pause as she spotted something in the distance. “Hey, Trix. It seems we’re close.”

“Huh? What do you mean? Oh! Oh,” Trixie said as she followed Noire’s gaze off into the distance and up a little.

Trixie’s first thought was one of surprise, at the fort being a bright, crystalline red. After mulling it over for a few seconds, it made sense. After all, the fort would have had minimal benefit trying to blend into the background of white and grey, as its enemies relied on other-worldly senses. Meanwhile, to ponies marching to the base to relieve soldiers or deliver supplies, the fort was practically a beacon in this cold, desolate world. After that, Trixie’s surprise and introspection switched to amazement. Whatever material it was made of, the fort had presumably been built in the untamed beyond, and not under the aegis of the Crystal Empire’s dome.

“Looks like an hour, hour and a quarter,” Noire estimated, following the contours of the ice plains up to the fort. There only remained a gentle slope from where they were currently at, as opposed to the steeper hills they had already climbed or, in the case of this last one, teleported past.

“That’s good. Trixie may have been the one to suggest coming out here, but she’s certainly getting sick of this cold.”

Noire didn’t have the energy to point out her friend’s speech patterns again, merely rolling her eyes as she attempted to blink away bits of ice in her eyelashes.

The sun was on its way down. To Trixie, that was actually a good thing. The intense reflection of the sunlight off the snowpack had left her struggling, even through sunglasses. When she looked up, it was to peer at the radiant red castle that marked the endpoint of their journey, which was perhaps even worse than the snow. As the sun dropped, the temperature was guaranteed to plunge with it, but at least their eyes would have a chance to rest.

The two had been extraordinarily lucky, with only a minimal amount of wind since they scaled the last steep hill. From there, it had been relatively easy-going. As they got within a mere few hundred hoof-steps of what appeared to be an entrance, Trixie could pick out individual features on the fort, such as a rampart here, a bridge there, and a watchtower there.

“At least one of those watchtowers must still be used,” Noire remarked. “There was nobody there earlier, but now there’s a guardpony waiting for us.”

Trixie had to strain her eyes, not having as good a sight as Noire, but she could pick out the pony after a little bit of searching. Whether it was a mare or a stallion, the guardspony in question was camouflaged well against the snow, with either a white or a very light-shaded coat and mane. As the two approached the castle, she began to pick up greater detail on the pony: it was a stallion, and he had a crystallised white coat and light-blue mane, only slightly darker than her own. Perhaps the greatest oddity was that he didn’t actually wear any clothing, though his coat was grown out thick enough that he might not have needed any.

“This is a Crystal Empire military installation,” the stallion stated, and Trixie noted he was a unicorn, though he carried a spear at his side rather than with a magical grip. It was only now that she realised just how few Crystal unicorns she had seen before. “State your purpose here.”

“We’re here on an investigation,” Trixie said, working her silver tongue as best she could. “We’ve been doing research on the history of Windigos and heard that this fort was used to defend against them a millennium ago. My partner and I were interested in being able to hear first-hoof accounts of those ponies who guarded against them.” She would attempt to ease this guard into the idea of letting them in before actually suggesting it.

Said guardspony furrowed his brows, as if that wasn’t an answer he had expected. It was then that the possibility occurred to Trixie that he might not even have yet returned to the reformed Crystal Empire. It wasn’t unheard of for some ponies to be stationed at a base for several years, even one that was relatively close to a city like this. “That…sounds possible,” he grudgingly conceded, but it seemed he wasn’t going to let them in as easily as that. “And what have you learned about Windigos so far?”

“They’re parasitic spirits who feed off of negative emotions, especially hatred,” Noire said. “Where they appear, they also consume the ambient energy of the environment, causing the temperature to drop, inducing winter-like conditions. It’s been suggested that this creates more discord in the hearts of ponies as a result, but we don’t know if it’s cause or correlation. They disappeared only a few hundred years after the Crystal Empire.”

The stallion snorted. “Pah, that’s it? What else have you southerners forgotten in the absence of adversity? Warm temperatures and peace has made equines like you weak.”

Noire bit her tongue. She had trained in Equestria’s military. While she was certain she could come out on top in a fight with this Crystal unicorn, she didn’t want to get into one in the first place.

The unicorn guard moved his eyes over the two, before lingering on their saddlebags. “On the other hand, you two wouldn’t be the first ponies to have come here in the last few years. I suppose it comes down to what you have—“

“Lieutenant Diamond Dust, what are you doing?”

Trixie had done only a cursory investigation into self-levitation using unicorn magic. By the way the unicorn guard in front of her jumped, she could have easily started by interviewing him.

“C-Commander!” The stallion, Diamond Dust was his name if Trixie was inferring correctly, turned around to face the new speaker. “Th-these ponies showed up wanting to get in. They claim to be doing research on Windigos.”

Commander? Trixie thought to herself, No, we couldn’t have found her that quickly, could we have? She turned her head to look past Diamond Dust at the apparent commander of the fort.

Trixie had thought all Crystal ponies were crystalline in appearance. She had to revise that belief. The commander of the fort, an Earth pony mare, shared the same sheen as her fellow countryponies, with a pale purple coat and white mane. However, that was where the similarities ended. Even beyond their odd coats, Crystal ponies seemed just like regular ponies, if a little bit out of touch with history. This mare did not. It was as if an artist had taken an ice block, chiselling off bits and pieces of extraneous material, and the commander was the resulting sculpture-come-to-life. Her Cutie Mark resembled the Crystal Heart in shape and style, with a few snowflakes surrounding the heart on her flank.

“I see,” said the commander, her tone clipped and to-the-point. Even her face was as if it were forged from ice as she looked over Trixie and Noire, her gaze hanging on Noire for a few seconds. Finally, her blue eyes still locked on Noire, she said, “You are a part of the Equestrian military, are you not?”

“You can tell?,” Noire asked, not too surprised. This place was isolated from civilisation enough that she didn’t bother to deny it. It would have to take an extremely bad turn of luck for Equestria to hear about a batpony visiting this fort, find out she had military training, and somehow link it to New Moon, runaway guard.

“You have a strong body tone, one that army ponies usually have as opposed to labourers. The Prince-consort has been reforming our military to Equestrian standards, and every new pony sent out here has the exact same stance as yours. I may be out of the loop, but I doubt very many batponies have moved to the Empire in the last two years, so you cannot be one of ours.”

Noire raised her eyebrows. This commander was good.

The commander looked up, then over to the sun beginning to set in the western sky, before looking back to the Crystal Empire, visible in the distance to the south from the fort’s higher ground. Finally, she looked back at Trixie and Noire, looking over their saddlebags, finally saying, “You wouldn’t be the first ponies to come around here, though none of them have been military. Well, the unicorn appears to be a civilian, a labourer too. While you appear to have supplies, it would be remiss of me to send you back when it would be dark before you could return.”

“We brought chocolate and fresh fruit with us,” Noire said. “It was our understanding we should bring some supplies when we visited. I know when I was out on patrol, fresh food and treats deliveries were always valued.”

The commander raised her muzzle slightly in acknowledgement. For the first time in their conversation, Trixie thought she saw emotion on the purple-coated mare’s face, a brief glint of excitement crossing through her blue eyes. “My ponies will enjoy that tonight, then,” she said, before finally introducing herself, “I am Commander Iceheart. Welcome to our fort.”

“My name is Trixie.”

“And I am Noire,” said Noire, making sure not to mention which division of the Equestrian military she had been part of.

Iceheart lowered her head back down. “It is well to meet you two. Diamond Dust, take these two ponies to the commons. Get Powder Blue to check their supplies for poison. Make sure they realise they’re to be under escort at all times. Answer any questions they have, within reason.”

With that, Iceheart turned around, striding back into the fort. With some surprise, Trixie noted that not only did Iceheart not have any clothes over top of her coat, but her hair was also more shortly cut than even Diamond Dust’s was.

“Er-hem,” Diamond Dust said, drawing the attention of the two mares back to him, “You heard Commander Iceheart. Come in, please.”

Trixie and Noire followed him into the fort proper at last. The entryway held a large lobby with several doors leading in different directions and a large staircase set in the middle. Unlike the city under the dome, the fort was built of an odd red stone that matched its colour on the outside, the walls and floor glowing a pale red that served to light the room. It was obvious, however, that the fort was all substance and no style, with not a single decoration to be seen.

“Excuse me, ladies,” Diamond Dust said, as he began to close the gate behind them, the large frame barely making a squeal as it shut in place. Trixie noted with a little bit of confusion that he chose to use his limbs and mouth to seal the door close. Any adult unicorn worth her salt could at least use telekinesis, so why wasn’t he using his magic?

Nevertheless, the effect was noticeable. Although visibility dropped inside the entrance room with the lack of visible light coming in and no apparent windows, Trixie’s eyes adjusted soon enough for the dimmer radiant red. More importantly, the room began to warm up, heat no longer escaping outside, and within mere seconds Trixie could already feel a difference.

“That’s good enough,” observed Diamond Dust as he looked over the gate, before turning back to Trixie and Noire. “If you can see enough now, follow me, I’ll take you to our quarters.” With that, he began to walk, making his way up the stairs. For once, the unicorn stallion finally used his magic, lifting his spear up and gripping it close to his body, but freeing up all four limbs.

The two friends followed him up the stairs, turning around to head up another flight of stairs to the second floor, continuing to keep pace with Diamond Dust. Only the clopping of their hooves against the stone could be heard for the next few minutes; the world was quiet here. Finally, Noire worked up the courage to take advantage of what the commander had mentioned to Diamond Dust about answering their questions. “Excuse me, um, Diamond Dust, I believe?”

“That is correct,” he said, not turning around to look at her as they made their way down a long hallway.

“I’m curious. When you came outside, why weren’t you wearing coverings? I would have thought this far north that it would be standard protocol.”

Diamond Dust finally stopped, and Trixie and Noire halted behind him a few steps after. Diamond Dust appeared to be contemplating something for a few seconds, before he finally turned around, and asked, “Do you know what the main qualification for a pony being sent up north here by King Sombra was?”

Noire’s eyes widened. He said Sombra’s name?

Diamond Dust continued on, ignorant of Noire’s self-revelation, “Us Crystal Ponies are a hardy folk. We learned and adapted over time to the harsh climes of the north and beyond, even as the Crystal Heart protected the main city. You ponies who live in Equestria, you might be able to survive in a northern winter, but we can thrive in it.”

The stallion lowered his spear, turning it around so the spearpoint was underneath his muzzle. His eyes lost focus, and Noire knew that for all the training he may have had to be on guard at all times, he was no longer there in the fort with her and Trixie. “A few of us, however, we were even beyond that, we didn’t tolerate cold, we were at one with it. Before Sombra took over, Powder Blue and I took ice baths for fun, Snowpeak scaled the mountain ranges with few supplies, Polaris would go camping out on the flats.”

Trixie gulped. In the state he was in now, Diamond Dust was a valuable source of information, but she would have to be delicate so as not to put him on guard. “And what of Iceheart?,” she carefully asked, modulating her tone so as not to sound too inquisitive.

Diamond Dust inhaled, then let out a deep sigh, his clenched barrel visible relaxing and sagging several inches. “Iceheart was beyond all of us. It was like she was born to fight the Windigos. She was the only pony I knew who could go out into the elements and never have to come inside or put on gear. When Sombra killed the former Princess, he made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.”

Trixie and Noire traded glances. Trixie knew she couldn’t push any further here.

Diamond Dust’s eyes suddenly widened, seeming to finally realise what he been talking about. Shaking his head, the stallion looked back up from his spear to face Noire and Trixie again, and said, “Enough of that. We’re almost to the kitchen. I’m certain you will want to be able take off those saddlebags and clothes. I'll show you to the barracks right after where you can leave them, but you can leave the food supplies you've brought here first.” With that, he turned around, taking off at a regimented trot once more.

Well, he’s not wrong about the clothes, I’m beginning to really sweat here, Trixie thought to herself, taking off after him. The gear had been useful for retaining body heat, but as soon as she had gotten indoors, her body had begun to swelter. It was only a matter of time before her eyes stung with liberal amounts of sweat.

At last, Trixie and Noire spotted open double doors near the end of the hallway, and their destination was confirmed as Diamond Dust turned around in front of the door to face inwards. “Powder Blue, I’ve brought two guests with me.”

Trixie managed to round the corner just in time to see the pony inside speak, “Oh, really? More tourists, or new recruits?”

Trixie blinked. It wasn’t quite like looking into a mirror, but it was close. Powder Blue was a Crystal Pony unicorn with a coat of blue a few shades lighter than Trixie’s own, and a pale-silver mane. If it weren’t for her more feminine figure, shorter height and the crystalline coat, Powder Blue might have been able to pass as Trixie herself at a distance.

Noire seemed to have gotten the same idea, briefly looking back at Trixie before facing Powder Blue again.

“Researchers, apparently, though one of them is serving, or has served with the Equestrian military. I never did find that out. Current or former?” Diamond Dust asked Noire as he set his spear down, leaning it against a wall.

“Former,” Noire confirmed. It wasn’t entirely true, but given the circumstances it may as well be.

“Well, come in, come in, you’ll be seeing this area for the next few days anyways,” Powder Blue said, inviting the three ponies outside in.

Trixie walked in, taking the time to cast a look around the room. The large space was obviously a kitchen, with several large fireplaces built into a wall, though only one was currently active with a magically-stoked fire, with what Trixie knew to be several baking stones placed above a metal rack. The smell of freshly-baked bread wafted from the oven.

Other parts of the room were alien to her, some of it from being a thousand years out of date, and some of it perhaps being unique to Crystal Empire architecture. Trixie could only guess at the function of some of the items in the room, and one wall seemed to have been built around a standing column of ice, with several items buried inside the ice, doubtlessly being preserved.

“This is Trixie, and this is Noire,” Diamond Dust said, pointing out each of the two adventurers in turn. “This is Powder Blue. Bluey, they said they brought chocolate and fresh fruit with them for the fort.”

“Oh, is that so? That’s good to hear, it’s rare we get shipments of anything other than preservatives and wheat,” Powder Blue said, immediately fishing through Trixie’s saddlebags. Trixie wanted to protest the invasion of her personal space, but decided against it. Given that they had gotten into a military installation, she didn’t want to push her luck too far.

Instead, Trixie cast her horn, taking her saddlebags off. “Here,” Trixie said, pulling out the bags of chocolate and fruit she had brought. “Chocolate, I don’t know how sweet you guys had before the stasis spell.”

“Not very, but the bits and pieces we’ve gotten since the return were, and we’ve acquired a taste for it going by the way everypony here gobbles it down,” said Powder Blue as she sifted through the fruits, taking note of what was there. “Tomatoes, apples, oranges, yes, yes, I can work with this. Oh sure we have heat and lighting here, never mind the fact that soil conditions are completely unsuitable in here and that the Crystal Heart makes farming under the dome easier, I’m sure we can survive on lettuce and berries for the rest of our tour!”

“Um,” Noire said. She could sense Powder Blue had some pent-up issues to vent about. Noire didn’t really care to interrupt and risk getting ranted at in turn, but it would probably do everyone a favour if she could put the presumed cook in a good mood. “I have kiwis and lemons in my own bags.”

Powder Blue stopped her rant at those words, just about leaping into Noire’s saddlebags. Pawing through the supplies Noire had brought along, she quickly found the fruits in question. “Mmm, the lemons will be really good. Polaris will be especially happy, it’s been a while since we’ve gotten citrines.”

“Do you normally not get shipments of food in?” Noire asked, feeling this was an easy subject to talk about, even if Powder Blue appeared to be a little twitchy.

“We do, but they’re typically staples,” Diamond Dust spoke up. “Grains, sugar and yeast for baking, dried fruits and spices, butter for what fish we catch. Fresh fruits and vegetables are a lot rarer to come by. We’re not that far from the Empire, but with the terrain and the wind very few ponies are willing to make a delivery run out here.”

“I assume even when they do, the amount of ponies out here will probably devour it within a few days,” Trixie said.

“When it comes to food requirements, two ponies can deliver in one trip enough grains and sugar for a month, but for fruits and vegetables it’ll last us a few days,” Powder Blue said as she levitated the food Trixie and Noire had brought, putting it together with bags of other foodstuffs littered across several different counters. The unicorn’s horn glowed, her magic a light red. Trixie didn’t know what spell Powder Blue was using, but given that a similar red glow enveloped every item they had brought, Trixie could guess that it was something to scan the food.

This is rather surreal, Trixie thought. Here she was, discussing and listening to a conversation about food supplies for an isolated northern fort. Fortunately, Trixie saw an opportunity to move the topic to something she wanted to learn about, without doing so in a cackhoofedly way. “I get the impression the Crystal Empire doesn’t think too much about this fort. I understand back in the day it was used to guard against a potential Windigo invasion, but what about now?”

“The Windigos may be gone, but that doesn’t mean they’ll never return,” Diamond Dust said. “In recorded history, they’ve disappeared and then come back once already. Most Crystal Ponies have been negligent, thinking that because Sombra is gone that they’ll never have to deal with another crisis again. They’re absolute fools, but even enough of the ponies here were foolish enough to run away the first chance they could get.”

The kitchen had been a warm place, filled with artificial light in addition to the luminescent glow of the walls and floors, but it was as if in one fell blow Diamond Dust had managed to kill the feeling of belonging that existed here.

“Diamond,” Powder Blue said. Her tone was calm, but it was clear that she was scolding him. For his part, Diamond Dust sagged, and in that moment Trixie realised the two of them were likely a couple. Diamond Dust had, after all, mentioned that he and Powder Blue had enjoyed ice baths before Sombra’s rise, and the inference had been that they had taken them together. Powder Blue turned to face Trixie and Noire, and said, “I’m sorry for Diamond, he gets a little passionate sometimes. Mind you, I don’t disagree with what he said, but he needs to be able to hold his tongue a little better.”

“Sorry, dear,” Diamond Dust replied.

“That’s alright. Now, I’ve checked the food these two ponies have brought. All the food is good, no rotting or poison, though the apples and tomatoes should be eaten sooner than later, I’ll incorporate some into dinner tonight. Now, is everypony currently in the castle?”

The stallion shook his head, and he said, "Neigh, Snowpeak is still out on patrol. He will not be getting back until tomorrow morning, I think."

"In that case, I'll scratch off his portion."

Diamond Dust rose, casting his magic to grab his spear once more. “Very well. In that case, I’ll show the two of you to our quarters next.”

“So Powder Blue is the cook here, then?” Noire asked, wiping some sweat off her forehead with a hoof as she trotted after Diamond Dust down another long hallway.

“Unofficially. All of us here are guards, but we all have secondary duties. We’re technically supposed to rotate around, but since we’re on a skeleton crew now, we found it easier to each stick with what we do best.”

“And you double down on guard duties and patrol, then?” Noire asked. “You leave your coat grown out, so I assume you don’t do too much indoors.”

Diamond Dust grunted, and he said, “Iceheart wasn’t wrong. You are a military pony.”

Noire was glad that even with her changed form she still had dark enough fur to hide her blush. “I learned what I could,” she said, and left it at that.

“Powder Blue mentioned something about soil in the castle and lighting and heat,” Trixie said. “Does that mean you have a greenhouse set up here?”

This time, Diamond Dust snorted. “Not quite a greenhouse like what the smaller villages outside the city use, but in essence, yes. However, there’s only a few crops that will grow inside the castle. No, you won’t be allowed to see them. I apologise if that sounds rude, but you have to understand that even if there are no Windigos around, the commander still demands operational security.”

Well, that explained why Powder Blue had checked for poison in the food that they had brought, though Trixie had already deduced as much already. She wasn’t too heartbroken about not being able to see their indoor farms, so Trixie instead decided to tackle a different subject, “You mentioned there not being any Windigos around. The yaks are further to the west, so I assume there are other creatures prowling around directly north of here?”

“Ah, the yaks. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen them. Unfortunately, all those I knew will be dead by now, but if they’ve stayed true to their character, it’ll be nice to meet one again,” Diamond Dust said before he sighed, his shoulders bowed by a thousand years of history. “We don’t get anything more than the occasional creature this far north, yetis, polar bears, seals, a few others. Ah, here we are.”

The stallion had stopped in front of another door, opening it up with his magic this time, revealing another large room. This time, the insides were filled with several modest beds lined up against the side walls, with windows on the far wall, with a single pony standing next to them and looking outside. Trixie gauged her internal compass and decided that the windows were on the north-facing wall. While the beds were all made up, weapons, tools and saddlebags were littered across the room, on the floor, against the walls and on some of the beds.

“We used to have twenty of these rooms filled to the brim. Since our return, almost everypony left and now this is the only quarters in active use,” Diamond Dust said.

Trixie quickly scanned the room, doing a quick estimate of the number of beds. That meant there were perhaps thirty ponies in the castle, as opposed to half a thousand before. With that large a garrison, this was probably one of the key, if not the largest fort the Crystal Empire had.

“Aurora, Aurora, we have guests,” Diamond Dust called out to the pony at the end of the room, as he trotted towards the windows, Trixie and Noire following.

The Crystal pony, Aurora, turned around. She was a pegasus with a vivid green coat not unlike the colour of the aurora borealis she was no doubt named after, and a blue mane of a medium shade. At first, Trixie thought she had purple eyes, but as she got closer to the windows, she realised Aurora had heterochromia, one eye red, the other purple.

“Lieutenant,” Aurora saluted with a hoof.

“How goes it, Aurora?”

“Visibility is better than normal today, the fossils were dormant for a short period earlier. I saw a yeti hanging around, but it has moved away since.”

“Good, good,” Diamond Dust said as he stared out the window, and Trixie followed his gaze. The sky was already beginning to darken, the sun beginning its descent in the western sky. To the north, there were mountains, mountains, and more mountains, each threatening to poke at the heavens above, and a floor of snow below. Closer to the fort, Trixie could see the odd tree that somehow managed to survive in the eternal cold. Off in the distance, a mist of powder snow pervaded the air, blocking sight for a good distance before it cleared up again.

“And these two are?” Aurora asked, nodding her head at Trixie and Noire.

“Ah, right. These two are Trixie, and Noire. The commander has allowed them to stay for a little while. They’re here to do some research on Windigos.”

Aurora bowed her head. “I see. Well, they aren’t here anymore, even if their legacy remains.”

“Legacy? What legacy?” Noire asked.

Aurora looked out the window, and pointed a hoof north, “Do you see where there is a snowstorm out there?”

“Yeah, what about it?” Noire asked again. The snowstorm over the northern ice flats was fairly obvious.

“I’m not surprised Equestrians have forgotten this, but when a Windigo dies, it doesn’t have flesh to rot away. It’s more ethereal than corporeal. Despite that, at its moment of death a Windigo becomes fully manifest in our world,” Aurora said. “The remains of a Windigo fossilise into a magical ice, incapable of being destroyed by just about any known magic.”

“Wait, really?” Trixie asked. “I’ve never heard of this before. That seems highly unlikely.”

“Unlikely it may seem, but that is the truth.”

Diamond Dust and Aurora immediately turned around, each of them saluting Commander Iceheart, who had just walked into the room. Diamond Dust kept his spear rigid at his side, deferring to the commander.

Iceheart continued, “That ice is capable of lasting for several thousand years, at least as far as we know from records. It’s more than just mere ice, however. Where the Windigo fossils exist, it induces its own weather system around it, creating nonstop snowstorms for tens of thousands of hoofsteps around, and an everlasting polar vortex in the immediate area. Around the castle, going outside is tolerable, but as you approach the ice, the temperature drops. The closer you get, the worse it becomes. Even I cannot get within more than a few thousand hoofsteps of it.”

Trixie took a few seconds to absorb that. Windigo remains being capable of creating conditions even harsher than the already tough conditions of the barren north sounded fantastical, but these ponies had no reason to tell tall tales. “No wonder all of you stay around still. How long has that been around for? Wait, Aurora said they can’t be destroyed by ‘just about’ any known magic, does that mean there’s something that can?”

“The ice was not actually there when we went into stasis. Multiple Windigos have been known to die together in formation to create a larger fossil ice formation. By the size of the snowstorms that exist, I would guess around ten to twelve of them died. They did not appear to know where the Crystal Empire was located when it disappeared. We are fortunate. The Empire would have fallen upon its return if the Windigos had decided to fossilise right over where the Palace is.”

Multiple ponies shivered as they realised the implications of what Iceheart was talking about.

Iceheart sat down on her haunches, staying propped up on her front hooves. From what Trixie had seen of her already, she wasn’t one for gesturing with a limb when she talked. In fact, the inflection of her tone barely changed. Trixie could only wish she had that kind of poker face when she had negotiated wages as a performer. “As for magic, well, the alicorn princesses back in the day very rarely visited us, and we never asked them to try, so it is possible they knew something that could destroy the fossils. Back in the day, we would harness the power of the Crystal Heart to destroy a fossil, but it always would take the Heart several days after to recharge. Then, the unicorns would have to hold up a shield to protect against the weather and the Windigos until the dome was reactivated.”

Noire frowned at that, spotting an inconsistency, and she said, “Well, there aren’t any Windigos around now. Why hasn’t the Empire destroyed this one, then?”

“Because the last time we freely chose to use the Crystal Heart to destroy Windigo fossils, King Sombra took over,” Diamond Dust interjected. “He used it a few more times after, but always kept it hidden away. I returned to the Empire once to ask for use of the Heart to partially destroy this ice block, it would take multiple uses to completely demolish it.” The Crystal unicorn sighed, his head drooping., “I was practically chased away for merely suggesting it to the Princess.”

Noire wrinkled her nose. So she had been at least partially right for the Prince and Princess not caring too much about what happened out here.

“It is what it is,” Iceheart said, standing up on all four hooves again, walking to the window and looking outside. By now, nightfall was on its way, the sky noticeably darkening every few minutes. “We do what we can, and we will continue to watch out for the signs of their imminent return.” She turned around. Despite her neutral words and hard attitude, Trixie saw a gentleness in Iceheart’s blue eyes.

Iceheart lead a garrison of ponies, perhaps as many as a half a thousand at one point, against the frozen spirits of the north. Even still, she seemed to be a gentle spirit at heart. Trixie could only wonder what the mare was capable of when angered.

“Enough of that though, I am hungry. How goes Powder Blue’s efforts, Diamond Dust?”

By now, Diamond Dust had relaxed, lazily sitting on a bed. They made a show of appearing formal at first, but now that I think about it, they’re really quite informal after they’ve greeted one another. Perhaps because they’ve been reduced to such a tiny garrison? Trixie thought to herself.

“She’ll be around an hour. She had to clean out the fish a little bit first.”

“Ah. Please round up the guards for dinner, then. Polaris and Octantis are to cover the north and south towers for now. I’ll choose who to replace them after the meal. I assume you two are acceptable with eating fish? I do not know if Powder Blue already asked you or not, and we should let her know before she starts cooking,” Iceheart asked Noire and Trixie, tilting her head towards the two.

“Equestrian military protocol dictates we at least get used to seafood in the event we get shuffled into a naval operation,” Noire murmured.

“I’ve eaten grass on the road multiple times,” Trixie said, memories of the bitter taste clinging to her tongue for hours at a time souring her mood. “I’ve only occasionally had fish but yes, I am fine with it. Powder Blue never did ask us, I think.”

“Very well. Once it gets too dark to see outside from here, Aurora and I shall escort you to our mess.”

Trixie wasn’t quite sure how Powder Blue did it. Perhaps she used magic? Or maybe it was the spices themselves that were magical. In any event, the unicorn who could pass for Trixie’s doppelganger at a distance had managed to bring flavour to life in the food she had prepared, both what Trixie and Noire had brought as well as what was apparently produced or locally caught.

“Powder Blue is our de facto chef,” Iceheart said, walking the two of them away from the kitchen. “She has done a splendid job in lieu of the ponies who were supposed to be serving, and left upon the return and King Sombra’s vanquishing.”

“They seem to be quite fond of you,” Noire noted. It had been rather obvious to see at the sup. Each pony there was disciplined, but they still all doted on Iceheart.

“Yes. In the past, Sombra appointed me as the commander of the fort here. I did not think I was worthy at the time, but while the Witch King was many bad things, he was not foolish. I believe he saw something in me,” Iceheart said.

Trixie wrinkled her nose. Throughout their first few meetings, and through the idle chatter she had shared at supper, Iceheart’s speech bothered her. It wasn’t that the Crystal Earth pony sounded fake, far from it. Even though her tone and pitch was always controlled, Iceheart always seemed sincere. Rather, it was the way she allowed no emotion to leave her tongue. Even the way she walked, stood, and lightly smiled meant nothing. Only her eyes occasionally betrayed her.

There was something to this mare, but Trixie decided to leave it for another time. Trixie had her own problems, and she hesitated to poke at another pony’s issues. New Moon had been one case, but a stranger like Iceheart? So far, nothing she had seen indicated that Iceheart was weak of heart. If she felt hurt by the actions of the Crystal ponies, she didn’t seem the type to crumble as a result. The near-adoration of those who had stayed behind in the fort was practically radiant. Had Trixie been able to command that type of obedience, she might never have left Whinnychester. Had the Changelings been able to exude the simultaneous confidence, toughness and gentleness that Iceheart did, they might have never become so estranged from the ponies.

Instead, Trixie asked, “What do you think he saw?”

“The way I was able to rally ponies around me, perhaps. No doubt he could have enslaved me as easy as he had any other, but I was different in one way: among the Crystal ponies, I have the highest known resistance to the cold, both natural and magical. Even Sombra was unable to do much more than ward the Windigos off, so he sent, exiled me to the fort. I regret not being able to share solidarity with my fellow Crystal ponies, but to protect my people, this was the best choice.”

Trixie took a few seconds to read into that as far as she could. That sort of statement almost sounded like something a coward in a novel might say, but this was real life. And for as much as her expression was sculpted from ice, Iceheart seemed genuinely remorseful in that instant that she could not fully sympathise with her fellow Crystal ponies, who had been downtrodden under King Sombra’s rule. It was difficult for Trixie to judge, but between being a slave under the dome and a free pony who had to fight Windigos and go out into the bitter cold every day, she thought all Crystal ponies had had a terrible few years of life under King Sombra.

“King Sombra ruled over the Crystal Empire for about two years, and it’s already been more than three years since the stasis ended. Five years total then, a little over in fact. You haven’t thought about retiring from your position?” Noire asked.

“No,” Iceheart said, continuing to trot through several hallways and up several flights of stairs during the entire conversation. “Truthfully, I could have left had I so desired. The Windigos have disappeared after all, and new ponies would eventually take my place. But they wouldn’t have the experience that I have, or the capacity to resist the cold that I do. So I will stay here so long as that block of ice still exists.”

“That sounds…lonely,” Noire confessed.

“Perhaps,” Iceheart conceded, finally stopping her climb up the stairs. She took the opportunity to look out the window, this one facing north. Outside, a red light strayed randomly across the surface of the ice flats. From what Trixie and Noire had learned over supper, the light was directed from one of the towers, the result of a massive focus lens that redirected the glow of the castle’s red stone into a giant light the night shift used to keep an eye on the flats at night. “But I have my own personal code and sense of duty, and I choose to follow it. I may not have chosen to live here, but I choose to die here.”

Trixie wasn’t sure how to take that comment. She was saved from having to think about it, as at that moment Diamond Dust came into view from around the corner.

“Ah, there you are,” Iceheart said, getting his attention. “When did you wake up today?”

“Just before lunchtime,” Diamond Dust answered.

“Good, good. Please escort Trixie and Noire to their quarters. I’ll have somepony relieve you at midnight.”

“Alright, then,” Diamond Dust said, and the two guardponies traded salutes before Iceheart trotted away past the corner where Diamond Dust had come from. The stallion turned to Trixie and Noire and said, “Follow me, please, it shouldn’t be too long a walk.”

“You don’t keep somepony on guard during the night in your actual quarters?” Noire asked as she was being escorted.

“Oh, we do, but separating you from everypony else reduces the damage you could do if you were a saboteur,” Diamond Dust said, leading them through more doors still.

“The commander really takes operational security seriously, huh?” Noire said, attempting to make idle conversation. “You guys really seem to adore her.”

Diamond Dust paused, before turning his around to face her. “As we should. If it weren’t for Iceheart, the Windigos might have overrun us during Sombra’s reign.”

“The ponies in the city really don’t seem to value her, though,” Trixie said.

Diamond Dust curled his lip up, flaring his nostrils as he growled, and said, “Of course not. They look at her and think she got off easy, not having to labour directly under Sombra. It’s because she did such a good job that the friends and family we left behind don’t realise just how threatening the Windigos were.”

He started walking again, his pace noticeably picking up, and Trixie and Noire hastened to follow after him. In short time, they found themselves outside of a pair of double doors. Casting a spell, Diamond Dust swung the doors open, revealing a room noticeably smaller than the quarters downstairs, with only a few beds instead of the thirty-odd for the garrison. A few windows opened out onto the ice plains.

“Bathroom is to the side, we do get running water even this high up,” Diamond Dust said. “We’ll see you in the morning."

It didn’t take long for Trixie and Noire to settle in the room, having brought along the clothes and saddlebags they had removed earlier prior to dining. It also didn’t take long to discover the presence of a bath in the bathroom. Though the water was cold, Trixie guided Noire through using a heating spell to heat the water up for practice, and in short order the two of them had both bathed, washing off the sweat they had amassed throughout the day.

“What do you think?” Trixie asked after she had lighted up the fireplace. Unfortunately, the partial moon was blocked out by cloud cover, so she couldn't curl up gazing at the moon, but she could still sit next to a source of heat, allowing it to chase away the last drops of water clinging to her coat.

“They seem to be functioning well,” Noire conceded. “They’re definitely shunned by the rest of the Empire, but the ponies here have found solidarity with one another.”

“Diamond Dust and Powder Blue definitely seem to be a thing,” Trixie mused, feeling the need to gossip.

“A few of them at the dinner appeared to be like that. I find it curious that they all bunk together in a single room, Equestrian policy in a fort with multiple quarters is to separate by gender. I wonder what they get down to down there,” Noire said. “Though, given there’s at least three ponies on the night shift and a fourth one out on patrol, Iceheart might deliberately keep couples separated from sleeping at the same time.”

“She seems to be doing a good job here, at least as far as I can tell. They definitely adore her. It seems like the Empire is humouring the ponies here instead of requiring this fort to be manned, or else they wouldn’t have so few ponies here.”

Noire wrinkled her nose at that assessment, and the batpony said, “That seems to be poor planning. They must know more information than I do though, so I can’t really say. Somepony is still authorising food shipments up here, and ponies in the Empire seem to be generally aware there are ponies here still. Not a conspiracy though, if you were getting that in your head. Just...I don't know.”

"Well, maybe there's something about the Windigo fossils that we don't know that the Crystal Ponies do?" Trixie suggested. "I've travelled a lot and heard lots of folklore, but this is the first time I've ever heard anything about Windigos turning into ice when they die."

"They have no real reason to be pulling one over us. That weather system out there looks more localised too. You saw how it seems almost circular, right? Like there's an epicenter to the storm," Noire said, sighing. "I don't know. When I joined the military, I did it with idealism, wishing to help my fellow pony. Even if they're also ponies who became part of their army, most of them were likely forced to come out here by King Sombra, and were shunned for it by the rest of the Crystal ponies, Iceheart especially. I just feel sort of, like, you were able to help me in my darkest hour, surely we should be able to figure a way to help them? They seem to be stuck in a hard place. I'm not sounding weird, am I?"

“Of course not,” Trixie said. “But we should be able to spend a few days here before we run out of goodwill from the food we brought. We’ll sleep on it for now, and try to figure out something later.”

Trixie dreamed that night.

This time, it wasn’t a nightmare, and there was no Alicorn Amulet. Instead, she sat across from the full moon, shrunk down to the size of a pony and brought to the planet below.

This…is bizarre, Trixie thought. She was able to acknowledge this was a dream, but had no control of her dream self beyond that.

Her body moved forward, reaching a hoof out to the moon. The celestial body shimmered as she touched it, waves of light rippling outwards. Her hoof recoiled, hesitant as the full moon continue to shimmer.

The waves stopped. Then the moon disappeared.

Trixie’s eyes widened. What was going o—

The sound of thunder woke Trixie up.

It took her a few seconds as she shook her sleepiness to realise the issue with that. Thunder was incredibly rare in winter conditions, and this far north it should have been unheard of.

Noire was already up, peering out the window. “What’s going on?” Trixie asked, glancing outside as well. It was definitely morning, the sky beginning to brighten. There was a significant break in the cloud cover above, exposing the first hints of blue Trixie had seen in days.

“I think somepony saw something out in the flats,” Noire said. “The snowstorm from the Windigo fossils has expanded since yesterday, so I can’t see if there really is anything out there.”

Trixie was about to ask another question, only for clarity to settle in. That wasn’t thunder she had heard. It was the sound of several sets of hooves stomping. Even though they were separated by what had to be a few floors, she could still feel the tiny castle garrison bustle into motion to answer whatever had appeared outside.

Noire turned around, and said, “Perhaps we should ask whoever’s on guard, if he or she is already out there?” Not really waiting for an answer, Noire turned around, striding towards the door and swinging one of them open with a hoof.

“Yes-yes, yes, I saw him as well. He still has some distance, but it’s definitely pursuing him. If he keeps his pace they’ll meet up in less than ten minutes.”

Whoever was on guard wasn’t in sight, but a quick trot over and they spotted Aurora, the green-coated Crystal pegasus, looking out another north-facing window. She had an ear up against an acoustic voicepipe, a feature Noire had noted the day before but hadn’t commented on. The castle truly was over a thousand years old.

Aurora’s face darkened, before she spoke back into the voicepipe, “Well, I hope she makes it in time.” Stepping away from the voicepipe, she spotted Noire and Trixie. “You two picked an awful time to come out. They should be able to handle it without me, but Amore damnit, I wish I was down there to help!”

“What’s going on?” Noire asked. “I thought I saw something outside earlier, but the snow is obscuring whatever it was.”

“One of our ponies, Snowpeak, was out on patrol for several days. He was due to return this morning. The northern watch spotted him, but he’s being pursued by a yeti,” Aurora said, grimacing. “Yetis are terrifying creatures. I can only hope that—oh, there they are!”

Trixie and Noire crowded the window on either side of Aurora, peering outside. A small creature, just barely identifiable as a pony from a distance, was dashing along the ice flats, having just escaped the zone of the snowstorm. He was making good pace, potentially able to get to the castle within a quarter-hour if he didn’t encounter any obstacles in that time period.

Unfortunately, there was something pursuing him, and it was significantly larger than the pony, Snowpeak. It was a little bit easier to notice the features of the creature, which was decorated in long, thick white hair. That was the yeti, and it seemed to alternate between running on all fours and running on its hind legs.

“Ooooh, I hope they make it in t-time—it’s the commander!” Aurora said, pointing.

Noire followed the skittish pegasus’s hoof, frowning as she scanned the ground, seeing nothing. With a start, she realised Aurora wasn’t pointing at the ground, and Noire instead looked up. Her jaw dropped. Flying through the air, a pegasus was carrying the Commander, airlifting her to intercept Snowpeak and the yeti.

“That’s, what is she doing?!” Noire yelped, her normal composure subjugated by her surprise.

“Something special. Just you watch,” Aurora said. In contrast to Noire, she had settled down, coolly regarding the scene.

The pegasus carrying Iceheart zoomed in closer and closer, and Snowpeak seemed to notice them, slightly changing the path of his mad dash to meet them. Within the minute, the pegasus lowered herself to the ice flats below. Now grounded, Iceheart rushed ahead to meet the yeti.

“Wait, you can’t be serious,” Noire said. Trixie echoed the sentiment, but was unable to even speak the words.

“She is,” Aurora muttered.

It seemed too unreal to actually be happening, but it was. As Iceheart charged forward, the yeti that had been pursuing Snowpeak slowed down, apparently baffled by a creature only a fraction its size running at it instead of away from it. Only seconds before the impact did the yeti think to actually block the forthcoming attack, standing up its hind legs and crossing its front legs over its barrel.

Trixie had seen strong Earth ponies before, but only a few stood out, such as one pony whom she had worked on the rock farm with. Iceheart was definitely on the upper echelon, as the Crystal Earth pony struck the yeti’s crossed legs, smashing into it with enough force to send the creature of the barren north stumbling and falling onto its back.

Iceheart didn’t stop, as she quickly grabbed one of the yeti’s feet, wrapping her front hooves and legs around the larger creature’s appendage. Suddenly, she swung her hips and upper barrel skywards. It took nearly a full second, but that second seemed to crawl for an eternity, as the yeti’s body moved in slow-motion, before it achieved liftoff.

Before Trixie and Noire knew it, Iceheart swung the yeti’s entire bulk over her head, before slamming it back down into the ground again.

“What the—“ Trixie broke off, as a snow cloud enveloped the area, reducing visibility to zero. Maud Pie was stronger, but seeing any Earth pony lift a creature severalfold her own weight was a feat of strength that nevertheless left Trixie breathless.

The air seemed still, no pony daring to even breathe as the kicked-up powder hung in the air. This close, the snow cloud was beautiful, the rays of the sun bouncing off and illuminating every individual snowflake, even as it was unable to penetrate the depths. At last the visibility improved, the snow either settling or being carried away on light winds.

Iceheart and the yeti were both standing on four hooves, looking at one another.

They were too far away for Trixie to see their faces, but she imagined Iceheart had a resolute expression, something where her eyes were just a little bit harder and her lips curled just a little tighter than her normal expression. Even imagining it left Trixie a little bit nervous. That look could as easily be turned on Trixie and Noire if Iceheart took a disliking to them.

Iceheart took a step forward.

The yeti didn’t move.

Iceheart stepped forward again.

The yeti’s front hooves moved back, curling in on itself.

Iceheart moved once more.

The yeti quickly turned around, running north, back into the snowstorm induced by the Windigo fossils.

“Occasionally, a creature wanders in from the north. Most of them leave after a while, but a few of them stick around, testing their limits, coming in closer and closer to the castle,” Aurora said.

Trixie took a look over at the pegasus, and blinked. She’s crying? Why is she crying?

Possibly ignorant of her own tears, Aurora continued on, “In the past, we lost a few good ponies to the carnivores. Iceheart was heartbroken by each death. She felt each of them could be averted. That’s when we decided to chase away every monster that gets close, before they can harm somepony. I should have taken that yeti I saw yesterday more seriously, it must have gotten closer than I realised.”

“This was before the stasis, right?” Noire asked, watching as Iceheart turned around, interacting with Snowpeak and the pegasus pony briefly before the three of them started moving back towards the castle. “Wouldn’t the Windigos have been a danger then as well?”

“It was. That’s why Iceheart insisted in going out personally on every mission,” Aurora said, sighing. “She has the greatest resistance to the cold of all of us. She and she alone can head outdoors with a fully trimmed coat. Iceheart did her utmost to keep the rest of us safe. When we returned, most ponies left for home. They might have nothing but nice words to say about her, but their opinions would never change the minds of everypony else at home.”

Aurora took a deep breath, and exhaled an even deeper breath, her shoulders sagging. “I don’t blame my family. They had to suffer under King Sombra. I’ve seen the scars on their bodies they incurred from his rule, and here I am, physically unmarked as a result of being up here. They see the commander as, I don’t know, perhaps that she enabled his rule by not attempting to rise up against him, or that she should have suffered. But they don’t really know what it was like up here.”

All three ponies in the area were silent again for several minutes, as at last Iceheart and the two ponies she had in tow entered the gates at the northern foot of the castle. Finally, Aurora said, “Hey.”

“Hmm? What?” Noire asked.

“You’re not really here for research on Windigos, are you?”

There wasn’t much point in denying it if Aurora had seen through them with her red-and-purple eyes, but Trixie felt she had to defend herself and Noire at least a little bit. “It was part of why we came up here. But no, it wasn’t the only reason,” she conceded.

Aurora narrowed her eyes, and she said, “I see. I don’t know what these other reasons are that you came here for, but as you can see, we’re practically a family here. You know, all of us have occasionally returned to the Empire to visit friends and family, all of us except Iceheart. She has accepted her status as an outcast. It’s like she might have mentioned, she intends to die here.”

Trixie felt as if she was being lectured, but she held her tongue. This was somepony opening up and giving them information, and Aurora was continuing to do that, as she said, “But Iceheart allows almost anypony who comes up north here to stay. Some of them are extreme tourists, some of them were researchers just like you two say you are, and some of them have other purposes, even some other Equestrian military ponies who once checked the place out. Every time, Iceheart asks them to share with us stories of the outside world, of how Equestria has changed over the last thousand years, and she’ll no doubt ask you at tonight’s dinner, or maybe tomorrow night’s. She enjoys hearing them, because they’re the only way she’ll ever experience this brave new world.”

“So, please, don’t take advantage of her generosity. We would have to make your stay uncomfortable if you did.”

Aurora let the threat hang in the air. Trixie marveled at the strength of will Iceheart was able to inspire in the pegasus pony. Whether Iceheart had embraced her choice to stay in this fort with gusto or felt pushed into it, her subordinates didn’t lack for loyalty.

Chancing another look out the castle, Aurora said, “Come on, I’ll take you downstairs. You can meet Snowpeak, and we’ll have breakfast.”

Author's Note

Considering I originally estimated each arc would be about 15,000 words (New Moon clocked in at just under 17,000), this arc got out of hand. Next chapter should be shorter.

Windigos leaving remains that fossilise into a magical ice that's capable of inducing localised weather conditions (extreme cold, snowstorms) is an idea I've had on my mind. It's not implausible in a magical setting, and I thought it was a nifty enough concept to incorporate.

When it comes to Crystal ponies, I tend to write their coat, mane, and eye colours as being combinations of cold colours: green, blue, purple, and white. The exception to this is Aurora who gets a little bit of a mix of both with eye and mane colors, though her coat is green, to match the aurora borealis/australis, which is normally green but can vary from red to blue to purple.

I do proof-read my own work, and I re-read stuff a lot and catch wonky lines in addition to occasional poor spelling. However, there'll occasionally be a logic or inconsistency snafu that I overlook and isn't meant to be a set-up for plot later, so if you see one, please point it out! I'd be especially grateful.

Castle: Friendship

A ribbon of green wound through the dark sky, its majesty left undenied by the canopy of the Evergreen Forest. The stars beyond dotted the rest of the darkness, reminding Trixie rather much of the star bear she had once encountered in Ponyville in a time past that was now ancient. She was finally over that incident now, and thus could appreciate the beauty of a million billion stars twinkling in unison.

“The aurora is nice tonight, isn’t it, Red?”

Red Wings nodded from beside her. “Yeah.” He seemed oddly contemplative. Trixie was content to let him think, but the red-furred pegasus spoke up again. “When I was younger...when I was a colt, before I lost a wing, I would occasionally get to see an aurora. It didn’t happen very often where I lived down south.”

“Yeah?”

“Every time I always saw one though, I always thought that one day I could just take a running leap, fly as high as I could, and touch the lights in the sky.” Red Wings sighed, sounding whimsical. “It didn’t work, obviously. When I tried it once, I quickly learned how cold it got when you went too high up, and had to ground myself. Then when I grew up I learned the boring stuff about how the aurora worked, but especially that it was even farther away than the sun and the moon.”

“The sun and the moon aren’t that far away,” Trixie said.

“But far enough away that you would never be able to touch them with your hoof. Well, unless you’re Nightmare Moon I suppose, but that’s cheating to count her.”

After leaving Colt Springs, the six had detoured down south to visit Las Pegasus, grabbing a few supplies. Though there were few limitations to what Trixie’s power over the forces of creation could do, the idea of eating food conjured out of nothing was unappealing. That, and the want for several other things made by craftspony hooves warranted the side-trip. Following that, it was off in a nor’easterly direction towards the centre of Equestria. The Everfree Forest, sprawled out over a large mass of land to the west of both Ponyville and Canterlot, beckoned them.

It was mid-afternoon when they entered the Everfree from the west, intending to make it to the Castle of the Two Sisters by early evening. Under other circumstances, six ponies going through the Everfree Forest would have been best off going in the morning, if not going around it altogether. After all, maximising the daylight hours possible was most advisable when heading into the dense treetops of the forest. However, most ponies had not just spend six months of training under multiple changelings with training in battles and skirmishing. Most ponies also did not have the Living Wind with them to help detect potential threats in the Everfree well in advance, or to scope out the easiest path through. By now, the sun had fallen, and the moon had arose in the sky, dancing with the aurora.

It was with his head held high that Windspeaker was leading them all through the forest, confident stride after confident stride taking the ponies closer and closer to the Castle. Each of them was an invaluable part of the team, and though Windspeaker had suffered in building up physical mass on his once-lanky frame, the unicorn was glad he would not have to stay in the back lines when their inevitable confrontation with Equestria came to pass.

Despite all the rumours and hearsay about the Everfree, however, Trixie found the place oddly gentle. There was always sound, whether it was the chirping of birdsong, the distance rumbling of running water, or the braying of a wild animal. It wasn’t quite like the Equestria of the tame and passive that Trixie knew, but it was something with charm and rusticness of its own.

“How odd,” Iceheart said, taking a look around. “A thousand years has passed, and yet this place seems no different.”

“You did say you used to come here before, didn’t you?” Noire asked, sweeping her gaze around for any potential threats. The batpony didn’t wish to rely on the Living Wind too much, seeing it as a crux in the making. “I’ve had to come through here several times on tour, but that always was with at least a dozen other ponies at a time.”

“Yes. I couriered messages to the Castle for the former rulers of the Crystal Empire before King Sombra rose to power. Though I had to watch out for a few of the monsters that I was told wandered through the forest, I never had any true worry. It seems so quiet now. I wonder why it is that ponies now seem to ascribe so much nebulousness to this place,” Iceheart opined.

“Ponies have grown more timid, I think,” Noire said. “The last thousand years has been an era largely of peace. Maybe our ancestors had to be vicious and vile to survive, but most of us today haven’t.”

“Even me and my friends were docile once, waking up with the sun and farming until nightfall,” Stonehenge mused as he brought the rear of the sextet. “In a village with a hundred able bodies, twenty joined The Wall, and a mere six formed its core. But when the monsters appeared from the Black Forest, we answered the calling without hesitation.”

“Which is good. We might be peaceful, but there are those of us who will fight back when our backs are pressed against the wall,” said Noire. “Like Red Wings.”

“Hey!” Red Wings retorted in indignity, eliciting several laughs. He blushed, though it was barely visible through his red coat. “Well, I’m still honestly not certain myself how I managed to beat up two guards. All I could see was my freedom to wander being slammed shut, and then the rest was a blur.”

“You do possess a degree of wanderlust, don’t you?” Windspeaker asked, empathising with the other stallion. “Spending six months in Colt Springs must have been tough.”

“Yeah. Me and Trixie both,” Red Wings concurred, eying her up from the periphery of his sight. “I’m just glad we weren’t stuck down there the entire time and could come up to the surface and stay there. Otherwise I really might have been driven stir-crazy.”

Having a few beach episodes certainly helped Red Wings. Though he only had one eyes for one mare, he had to admit seeing her playing in the water had lifted his spirits more than once in the six months that they had worked under the hard changeling trainers. He was certain Trixie had noticed and flashed him a few curves during those nice days off.

“I spent two years in Whinnychester. Though I was feeling a little claustrophobic near the end in Colt Springs, it’s not like I haven’t been stuck in one place for several months before in recent times. But yes, it was tough. It is good to finally hit the road again and explore once more.”

“It took you a little while to get over that mental wall of yours, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, it did,” Trixie replied to Noire. She wanted to say thank you to her batpony friend, but Trixie held her tongue. It wasn’t on Noire’s own initiative that the other mare had come to Whinnychester. In a way, it was the death of Noire’s father that had set this whole adventure in motion, and it would be tactless for Trixie to say ‘thank you’ for that.

Noire seemed to know what was going through Trixie’s mind, and passed her fillyhood friend an appreciate smile.

“Fillies, gentlecolts, we’re almost there,” Windspeaker announced. “It should only be a few more minutes and we’ll finally be able to see the castle.” He was doing an excellent job as their guide. They had not run into a single mishaps thus far in the Everfree.

Good thing for that. I may be over the Ursa Minor incident, but I certainly don’t want to see any of them or Ursa Majors! Trixie thought.

After making their way through a particularly dense underbrush, four out of six of them jumped over a small stream while Noire and Red Wings flapped their way over. None of them looked particularly clean. Iceheart was missing a small tuft of her purple fur on her withers where a sharp vine had gotten caught on her coat. Stonehenge, being as tall as he was, had a cut on his ear from the same thing. Red Wings had stubbed his frog against a particularly sharp rock, leaving him hopping for a few seconds and his hoof burning for several minutes after. Windspeaker, though he had avoided any harm, had started out with a white coat: every little bit of dirt that got into his fur or greenery that had rubbed up against him had left little specks of colour, making him look a mish-mash of white, brown and green. Trixie and Noire weren’t any better.

The only thing that helped was that the actual journey was not physically tough. Any rugged climbing up hills or through particularly muggy areas was mitigated by the fact the six ponies had just spent a half-year in more gruelling conditions than that. A mere uphill walk was not going to make anypony break out in a sweat.

At last, Windspeaker rounded a river bend into a small clearing, and stopped. “We’re here,” he announced.

Iceheart was right behind him, followed by both Red Wings and Trixie, then Noire and Stonehenge from the rear. As they rounded up into the grassy meadow with Windspeaker, they appreciated the site of the fortress castle that had once been inhabited by the two royal alicorn sisters, having approached the building from the back side.

Although it was dark out, and had been for some time, the light show in the sky easily managed to illuminate the castle's stone walls.

“So it really is as run down as I was expecting,” Iceheart noted. Though the foundation was still secure, the ramparts on the top of the castle had not aged well, with the stone railings having crumbled, making the roof an obvious hazard. Many of the windows had no glass to speak of. Time, wind and water had beaten away at the back, wearing what were once arrowholes into larger gaping maws. The ground around the castle was littered with stone blocks and other assorted materials that had fallen off the castle. It was quite sad what had happened to what had once been a shining beacon of light in Iceheart’s day.

Trixie scrunched her muzzle. The romantic in her was screaming out in anguish. Had she not told a thousand tales on the road in her role as a showmare, of castles and fortresses and palaces and observatories and many other grand, majestic buildings? To see the star of many an old faerie tale be relegated to a decrepit state was shattering to that romanticism of hers.

Always like the alicorns to play with a toy and then leave it, Trixie thought, before she scolded herself. No, they are reasonable beings, ponies just as much as I am. I cannot begrudge Princess Celestia for wanting to move out after having to banish her sister to the moon. Better to live somewhere else than fix up and have to continue living at the site of my greatest shame.

There was work to be done. Still, Trixie had no intention of doing much work today. “So, camp-out, anypony?”

In the end, they had chosen to camp out in the main throne room of the castle, where the two old thrones were, and the master organ on top of the stairs. There was enough stone that had fallen from the walls and ceiling over the ages to build a makeshift firepit. With some wood that had been quickly gathered from outdoors, Noire was able to coax out a fire, using a spell of flame to preheat the wood to the point it finally lit on its own. Though there was no natural exhaust stack for the smoke to leave through, the room was large enough for the smoke to rise and not bother their eyes, and several open or broken windows provided enough ventilation to keep the smoke from concentrating.

It was a surreal scene. Six ponies had travelled a long way, and now, inside of the ruins of the Castle of the Two Sisters, sat around a temporary fire. Night had only just begin when Trixie and Red Wings had observed the aurora earlier, meaning they still had many more hours to wait out until the day. Although Trixie, Noire and Windspeaker had taken to lighting the lanterns in the great throne room, they had gathered next to the fire. The crackling noise of the fire and the occasional sparks flying off its untameable tendrils were all the ambience they needed.

Trixie found herself at peace, lying her head up against Red Wing’s barrel. Theirs still wasn’t a full-blown relationship, but six months had led to a lot of talks. The pegasus was certainly more than a mere friend now, and the steady thump of his heartbeat was something reassuring.

Across from her, Windspeaker and Iceheart were similarly paired together. Iceheart was sprawled out over the floor, eyes closed in a serene rest, while Windspeaker held a limb around her own barrel. Though Stonehenge and Noire still didn’t scream a couple, being the two remaining ponies left in their group had brought the large stallion and the wiry batpony together in their own way.

“Tomorrow, we clean up, don’t we?” Windspeaker asked. His nose twitched as he looked around the great chamber.

“You mean I clean up,” Trixie corrected. A talented unicorn could sweep up all the debris in mere seconds. It was the finer repair work that would be more time-consuming, as gouged flooring, rotting stairs and shattered windows dotted the palace. An earth pony or a pegasus would have to have materials to be able to fix these things. A unicorn with the correct spellwork might be able to reconstitute the broken fragments into a whole piece. Trixie, with her power of illusion to reject the current framework of the world, would be able to make anew anything that was falling apart.

“If that is how you see it, then yes,” Windspeaker said, shifting in his position laying down. Trixie decided to drop the subject. The other unicorn had a hang-up about always wanting to be useful. Though Windspeaker had been helpful with getting through the Forest, not being able to contribute as much inside the castle itself was making him antsy.

“Tomorrow, huh?” Red Wings asked softly, his wings gently fluttering. A few of his feathers lightly ruffled Trixie’s muzzle, and she had to hold in a sneeze. “You know...I wonder how my friends and family are doing in Steeds right now.”

“Would you like me to tell you?” Windspeaker asked, entirely unironically.

Red Wings shook his head no. “No, that was more rhetorical than anything else. I suppose I would like to go back to visit them. Just, well…” He trailed off, looking at his left wing, the one that was partially wrapped around Trixie. “It’d be a little bit awkward to explain this. Once all this is done and over with, I suppose I could return home for a bit. If a pony can turn herself into an alicorn, healing a wing doesn’t seem so preposterous anymore, does it?”

“I suppose it doesn’t,” Windspeaker agreed.

“Perhaps you’ll have to take me with you when you do,” Trixie murmured. “I would much like to meet your parents.”

It was fortunate everypony already knew of the fate of Trixie’s own parents, as Red Wings dodged asking what would have been an awkward question.

“I don’t think it’ll be right away, though,” the red-eyed pegasus continued. “I mean, I’ve gotten over it, thanks to you, Trix. But still, I felt so awkward at home before I ran away after my accident. Maybe it really was me more than them, but I felt like such an outcast at times.”

“An outcast?” Iceheart suddenly spoke up, her snout still lying against the floor, ears hanging low, eyes closed as before. “Yes. I can appreciate that feeling of being ostracised. You should return when you have the chance. Settle your accounts if you think you cannot stay, but simply do it. Otherwise, you will beat yourself up with regrets later in life.”

The conversation grew quiet again. Though each of them had had rough points in their life, Iceheart’s was perhaps the worst with King Sombra.

Stonehenge was the first to revive the chat. “That makes me think. Aren’t we all outcasts, after a fashion?”

“What do you mean?” Trixie asked, curious to know what Stonehenge meant.

“Hmm, well, let me see. Ah, Iceheart was not much liked by the other ponies of the Empire for getting out of Sombra’s enslavement. Red Wings was more a social outcast, due to the loss of his wing. Not many would feel comfortable associating with somepony with such an obvious disability. I cannot really call myself an outcast, but being displaced by fifty years...it hurt. Hadrian, Antonine and Offa were right, I could not remain there for the rest of my life in Manechester. Windspeaker is not really an outcast from anything, but he had a secret magic that sets him out from every pony alive, that he could never talk to anypony about. You and Noire both have changeling fathers, which would at the very least be a social stigma if it were known, and I suppose Noire is still a runaway herself.” The large stallion had started haltingly, but picked up speed as he went on.

Trixie blinked. That...wasn’t a bad assessment, she mentally conceded. She said as much verbally.

“Being able to talk about the Living Wind was liberating,” Windspeaker admitted. “My parents know bits and pieces of it from when I was young and didn’t realise not everypony was connected to the wind. They brushed it off as a young colt’s imaginary friend. You five were the first who I ever revealed its true existence to...and I suppose the Empress was able to find out so easily.” The white-coated unicorn shuddered. Even now, the stallion felt a little sensitive to how the Empress had been able to read him, when usually it was Windspeaker who could know everything there was about a pony.

“I never did truly fit in as well as I would have liked in the corps,” said Noire. “Not that they were mean or anything, just that I felt out of place. I had drinks with them after work and got along with them in the barracks, but nothing like you mares and stallions. And certainly, I could never tell them what my father truly was.”

“Hmmm...so our hearts are alike in yet another manner, it would seem,” Iceheart remarked.

There were murmurs of agreement. This was the first night in a long time they had been able to talk freely like this, away from the Colt Springs and the Hive, outside of Las Pegasus, off the main highways that travelled through western Equestria, and all by themselves. There was an unspoken feeling that this would be able to last at least until they went forward with the plan to retrieve the Alicorn Amulet. Each hoped it would be able to continue past that moment.

Trixie let her head droop forward until she felt her horn press against the stone floor. It was cold. Though the fire heated the air, it was not enough to warm the floor around her. Trixie knew she could change that in a few moments, but she let it pass. Though the unicorn had come a long way in mastering her arcane talents, tonight, Trixie merely wished to sit among friends and while away the night.

There was still something she needed to bring up, and Trixie hated to do so, for it could yet again spark an argument. “Do you remember, everypony,” Trixie started as she lifted her horn off the floor, tilting her head up and getting their attention, “The first day we met Anfang?”

“How could we not,” Red Wings muttered. “I still can’t forgive the way she went about to teach us a lesson.”

“Yes, and I cannot disagree,” Trixie hurriedly said, only to move the topic along. “But near the end of our meeting, she refused the offer I was thinking. Do you remember that?”

Stonehenge blinked. “You are talking...of the offer to make her young again?”

“Yes,” said Trixie. “I was just thinking of it earlier. My power ideally holds no limits to what changes it can make to a pony’s body. It already cured Red Wings of his lost wing and severed the connection between Windspeaker and the Living Wind that would have caused him to die soon. I know it would be within the limits of my illusions to renew one’s youth.”

“You would have us be immortal?” Iceheart asked.

“No, not immortal,” Trixie rushed to defend herself. “Merely live for a long time. I think each of us would get tired eventually of living, and choose to pass away and go on to the endless pastures. Even if I became an alicorn, I too would meet my end.” There had been a couple of alicorns recorded in the histories of the past. Though they were not immortal as Princess Celestia and Luna were, they had lived longer than average. “Still, it would be lonely. I want to spend as much time as I can with all of you, my closest friends.”

Trixie swallowed a lump. She supposed even in the afterlife, they would still be able to meet. But her father had never explained just how the world of the dead would work. Trixie felt guilty, as if she were trying to suppress a natural force for her own selfishness. But Trixie had not lied: she really did want to spend forever with the five ponies gathered around the firepit.

“To live a long time, huh,” said Red Wings, feeling torn about it. On the one hoof, time felt something even more sacred than one’s species. In the case of alicornisation, at least two ponies in living memory had done it. There was a precedent for a third to do it, in order to surpass her limits. There was no precedent for artificially living. Still, the idea was intoxicating, if it meant he had more time to spend with Trixie.

Red Wings wouldn’t make his mind up right away. Instead, he leaned over and gave the blue-furred mare’s ear a nip, before rolling over onto his back, exposing his stomach to the warm air from the fireplace and the cool breeze coming in through a broken window.

“Hey!” Trixie squawked, rubbing her ear where she had just been nipped.

“Relax, Trix,” said Red Wings. “It’s not something to discuss about tonight. Sure, you brought it up, and I’ll sleep on it, certainly. I don’t want to think about things like aging and dying tonight though. I’d rather enjoy what I have, and if it means a pretty mare sitting next to me I’ll take it.

Trixie let out a sharp ‘hmmph’. “And I have to take having a great big red lump next to me.”

“Oh, how ye wound me with your words. Avast, you have keeled me body!”

“Amusing as this is,” Stonehenge interrupted, “I agree with Red Wings, Trixie. There is merit to your idea, but it is not without ethics for each of us to think over. I cannot say yes or no right away. I am certain Iceheart will especially have words to say about it, as the Witch King also sought immortality.”

“I do,” Iceheart muttered.

“So yes, your idea is out in the open now. Not tonight, though. I am content now. I will not trouble myself thinking about and debating it.”

Trixie deflated. It wasn’t a repudiation, and none of them seemed hostile to the idea of turning young again for decades or centuries more than biology would have allowed them. Still, she didn’t like putting it on the backburner. It gave her paranoia too much time to entertain possibilities of the others rejecting her and choosing to die after a regular lifetime, leaving Trixie all alone.

“Yes. We’ll talk about it later, then,” said Trixie. She forced herself to cheer up and not fall into the doldrums. Even if they all chose to die without renewing their youth, Trixie would still be satisfied with the many decades she knew she had with all of them.

The place fell into silence again, only the crackling of the fire and the soft breeze whooshing through the windows making noise. Occasionally, crickets could be heard off in the distance. Noire or Stonehenge would get up every so often to feed more wood into the fire.

Just as she was about to drift off to sleep in Red Wing’s embrace, Trixie frowned.

She stood up from the firepit. A few pairs of eyes followed her, before drifting back to the fire, assuming Trixie needed to stretch.

Trixie didn't need to stretch.

"Who are you?" she asked.

Those three words were enough to wake the remaining five ponies up from their relaxed state. Alert, Windspeaker cast his eyes and his elemental sense around the castle. He frowned. "What are you talking about, Trixie? There's nopony or nobody else here."

Trixie opened her mouth to refute him, only to be cut off.

"Huhuhohohohahaha!"

All six ponies tensed up as a voice unfamiliar to them laughed, the creepy sound almost seeming to echo in the large space.

"How amusing. The Living Wind cannot detect me, yet you, a half-trained mutt, can. Oh, I'm going to enjoy this far more than I should."

Each of the three stallions and three mares stood up, taking a formation around the campfire as they had rehearsed a hundred times. Though they did not even know if the unseen feminine voice was a threat, the sheer obnoxiousness of its words were no show of goodwill.

“Where is she?” Trixie asked, muttering to herself more than out loud. For a brief second, she wondered if the voice was hiding itself through an illusion much like Trixie herself could. With that thought in mind, Trixie attempted to dispel any potential spells in the area, only to stop.

There was music playing. What was more, it sounded like it was from a keyboard-style instrument, almost like a piano, or an—

“Up there!” Red Wings said, pointing his hoof up the stairs. Everypony else quickly followed the direction of his hoof, to where the organ was located.

Sitting at the organ, playing an oddly haunting tune, was a figure wearing a brown cloak. Candles lit with green flames on either side cast it in a sinister light. Despite having been discovered, whoever it was continued to play. The music felt majestic, but it inspired simultaneous awe and foreboding in the six ponies who were witness to it.

Led by Red Wings, the six ponies crept up to the bottom of the stairs, wondering to a one just who this mysterious figure was, be it pony or otherwise. Finally, Stonehenge asked the obvious question. “Who are you?” His deep, loud voice reverberated, but even it was not enough to overcome the music.

“Who am I?” The figure asked rhetorically, continuing to play on. The words it spoke were soft enough to identify it as almost certainly female. “An interesting question. I suppose you could call me an old mare’s tale…” She said cryptically, trailing off.

“Move!”

Trixie didn’t even feel herself move, but move her hooves did, ducking away from her previous position. A second later, she saw what Iceheart’s warning had been for. Something dark had slithered across the floor before jumping up shy of where Trixie’s position had just been, making an attempt at swatting her. It wasn’t just Trixie, either: similar dark slithering objects, almost like tentacles, had attempted to attack all six of them. They hadn’t succeeded, but had Iceheart not warned them in time, at least one of them might have.

No, not tentacles. They’re almost…

“Well,” said the cloaked figure, abruptly stopping the music. The silence was short-lived as she suddenly slammed her front appendages into the organ keys, creating a long moment’s worth of loud, chaotic sounds that jumbled together. The ponies gathered around all winced at the high-pitched cacophony, not liking it one bit. “I’m a little bit surprised, not disappointed mind you, but surprised that none of you fell for that.”

Then the figure at last turned around that. Trixie’s breath caught in her lungs. Though she could not see the other figure’s face, she could see two glowing eyes the colour of gold. They glowed not like the Empress’ single eye or Altrix’ red eyes, but with a wild fervour that almost seemed to take on a manic life of its own. Strangest of all, they almost seemed to rotate in place. “Though I am disappointed you didn’t bring four more of you, even if you were able to succeed in bringing all five that you could have. I would have appreciated reciting Ten Little Ponies. It wouldn’t do for me to start almost half-way through.”

Trixie’s eyes widened. Thus far, the figure had attacked them once, and had appeared out of nowhere, but now she was talking about a poem in a manner that implied more than just malice. “Who are you?!” Trixie asked again, biting her tongue to chase back the fear that was creeping up.

“Oh, really? You still don’t—”

“I know who you are!” Noire suddenly declared, piping up, her brown eyes defiant. “I thought you were just, just an old mare’s tale, but you’re really not, are you? You’re the Pony of Shadows!”

Noire’s declaration managed to silence the figure under the cloak for a brief moment. In that time, Trixie’s head snapped back. She knew the tale Noire was talking of. Supposedly, when Princess Luna was banished to the moon for a thousand years as Nightmare Moon, not all of her evil magic was banished with her. Some of it remained behind, coalescing and forming a phantom pony, who would sometimes appear in…

The Castle of the Two Sisters in the Everfree Forest, Trixie thought as her eyes widened. The very same place they were now.

“Huuhuuhuuhmmhmmhohohohomwahahaha!”

The Pony of Shadows, now so identified, threw her head back and laughed. “Ah, how long I have waited for some foolish mongrel to be able to see me for what I truly am! Truly, it’s been so long. Glory be, perhaps you can finally make me alive tonight!”

“Enough,” Stonehenge shouted, rebalancing his body to prepare himself for fighting or fleeing again at a moment’s notice. “Why did you attack us? What are your motives?!”

The Pony of Shadows sneered. The six may not have been able to see her face past her rotating golden eyes, but it was obvious that the Pony of Shadows was sneering. “I would have thought it obvious. Or do I need to be less subtle? But no, I suppose I’ve been rude. After all, I’ve failed to answer one of your questions so far, one you’ve even asked twice.”

"I'm the Pony of Shadows. But you, my little ponies..."

The Pony of Shadows suddenly tossed off her cloak, the garment flying through the air for a long second before making a soft thud against the floor. It took Trixie a second to break away from the mysterious mare's hypnotic golden eyes, and look at the rest of her face. Had Trixie walked past this pony in the past on the road, she was unlikely to have given the other mare a second glance. Her purple coat was a shade off from a unicorn Trixie had met in the past, and her mane was a slightly richer shade of violet.

Trixie's eyes wandered, only for her body to lock up. She thought the Pony of Shadows had been a unicorn, and sure enough, she had a horn. But what the old pony's tale had hidden with her cloak, and the purple mare didn't reveal her hoof until now about, was the set of wings at her side.

The Pony of Shadows was an alicorn.

"You can call me Deinos."

Author's Note

I've been holding onto this plot twist since the start of the story. Hope you enjoyed being legitimately surprised, and maybe little oddities in the story will start to make sense.

I would like to credit basically every FiMfic writer alive, since I've never seen anybody use the Pony of Shadows. Part of being able to predict plot twists is experience from reading or watching lots of other stuff. If nobody else has ever used the Pony of Shadows, how easy is it to predict her showing up as a villain? And yes, Deinos isn't a giant space flea out of nowhere. Go read the very first chapter again, Trixie mentions her.

But seriously, if you've read this far and don't usually comment, please at least comment on this chapter so I can stroke my ego over planning this twist out.