The Un-magician Destroys the Castle of Friendship
What was I doing? I couldn’t possibly be stuffing the Princess of Friendship into her own closet.
That would be insane.
“Sorry!” I muttered one last time as I folded her up like a pretzel between a mop bucket and a crate of “Playdrake” magazines. For a moment, I wondered what it said about Twilight and Spike that he felt totally safe stashing his private materials in the cleaning closet. Maybe, in a way, stuffing her in there was a kind of poetic justice. Yeah, I was just going to go with that.
I forced the door closed, and gave the handle a few good bucks to jam it in place. Hopefully that would buy me a few more seconds when the former Princess of Friendship woke up and became the Princess of Punting Me to the Moon. I really, really, hoped I could be far away from here by then. Taking a deep breath, I took a quick glance around.
The situation was pretty bad. Even with Twilight stuffed away for the moment, anypony who stepped into the hallway would immediately notice the piles of books tossed around and tapestries that had been torn from the walls. It looked like a battle had taken place, which technically it had. And, of course, even if they thought it was just an accident, I’d stuffed an unconscious princess right into the custodial closet in case they tried to clean up. Amazing planning, Humble Pie, amazing flipping planning.
“Humble? Humble, what happened? Did she buy the story?”
I spent a moment glaring at my dropped saddlebags, and the magic radio stashed within. Wait, no, un-magic. It was an important distinction, seeing as magic could actually be useful sometimes. I grumbled and picked it up, fumbling with it in my hooves until I could hold it to my mouth.
“No, she did not," I said. "So now I stuffed her in a closet. What should I do now, oh great and wise benefactor?”
“A closet? I mean, good for you on beating up a princess, but I always preferred pantries.”
“Oh, shut up!” I resisted the very strong urge to fling the radio across the room. “What do I do now? The moment somepony sees this, I’m done! I’m going to be locked up! No, I’m going to be exiled--”
“And then locked up in the place you’ve been exiled to, yeah yeah. Do you ponies have a thing for repetition or something? Look, we can work with this. Do you still have the gear in your bags?”
“I--” I couldn’t rub my temples with the stupid radio in my hooves. “Yes, yes I do.”
“Okay, what you want to do is, first, go to Twilight’s bedroom--”
I stared at the scene before me and felt an odd sort of disgust at the whole thing. I wasn’t sure if I felt more insulted for myself, or for Spike. Still, as my benefactor was fond of pointing out, it wasn’t like I had any better ideas. With a sigh that felt like it was taking my soul with it, I adjusted the card and socks one last time, making sure they were clearly visible in the middle of the hall, and gave them one last splash of chloroform for good measure. My mouthwriting didn’t even look like Twilight’s, especially in crayon.
Dear Spike,
I loaned these socks to Rarity, and she says she washed them, but I swear they still smell like her. What do you think?
Twilight
Somehow I felt the hero of the Crystal Empire deserved a bit better. Especially when he seemed to already be a glorified maid.
“Don’t sigh at me,” my radio benefactor said. “I’m telling you, it’ll work.”
“I… sure, fine.” I sat and rubbed my temples, glad I had my saddlebags again to hold that infernal radio for me. “What else do I need to do before I’m hurled into the depths of the cosmos?”
“Okay, did you see the second story bathroom?”
“I haven’t even been to the second story yet!" I said. "How could I possibly see the second story bathroom?”
“I’ve never been to the second story either and I saw it.”
“I… you...” I fought the urge to scream. “You’re some kind of un-magic extradimensional something-or-other!”
“So?”
I succumbed to the urge to scream.
“Okay, ow. That was loud,” my radio said. “Also, hate to nag, but get to the bathroom. Quickly now.”
“Nnngh!” I took off at a trot, having to wander around a few blind corners before finally stumbling onto the stairs to the second story. I then had to rinse and repeat until I found the bathroom. It was actually kind of modest considering everything I’d seen. There wasn’t even a hot tub. “Okay, what now?”
“I need you to relieve yourself.”
I stared blankly at the radio. “What?”
“You know, I was kind of hoping you’d be past that question at this point.”
“Sorry," I said. "But relieve yourself is a bit too much to let slide. Why the flip do I need to relieve myself?”
“Because it would be worse to do it later.”
I screamed again.
“Okay,” my radio said. “That time I was ready. Still, seriously, you are going to regret it if you do not relieve yourself now.”
“I...” I pressed my hooves to my temples and tried to crush my own skull. I failed. “Ffffffffine.”
“So,” I asked, drying my hooves and stepping out of the restroom. “What exactly did we accomplish with this embarrassing diversion?”
Whatever my radio’s response was, it was lost as a purple ball of scaly fury launched itself into my mane. It might have been screaming something at me, or I might have just been screaming enough for the both of us. My radio might have been screaming too, I couldn’t tell.
The confusion only got worse when I somehow stumbled off one of the second story staircases, beginning a long and painful ride for the both of us. On the plus side, as an earth pony, I was at least made of semi-solid stuff. I know I would have hated to take a fall like that and land on a horn or wing. Even better, the final impact actually knocked Spike off my head, and only nearly dislocated half my legs.
“Oooohhhg. I love you too, gravity.” I stumbled to my still-working hooves, trying to slow the spinning in my skull. As my eyes finally figured out how to sit still, it struck me that I’d far and away gotten the better of our exchange. Across from me, Spike looked much like you’d expect after having pony four times his weight land on him. It didn’t help that I’d done it multiple times, thanks to the magic of stairs. I knew I should probably count my blessings he’d been taken out, but I was a little worried he might actually be hurt.
I poked him with my hoof. “You alive?”
“Nnnnnnnh,” his eyes fluttered open, and he lifted a claw dramatically. “You might have beaten me, but you’ll never get away with this! Whatever… this is.” He slumped back. “I’m gonna pass out now.”
“You do that.” I almost gave him a pat on the head, before it occurred to me that pressing on his head might not be the best thing after taking a flight of stairs to the face.
“Okay,” my radio said. “Sounds like things have gone according to plan. Now head to the front of the castle where you left the socks.”
“...but I was just attacked by Spike," I said. "The socks didn’t work.”
“The socks didn’t work on him.”
“I...” I considered trying to crush my own skull again, but I wasn’t sure it was up to the strain anymore. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“Only if you don’t have a sense of humor!”
“...I hate you.” I sighed and dragged myself down the hallway, awaiting the latest twist in the disaster my life had become.
I was not disappointed when I rounded the corner to find an unconscious Princess Celestia sitting in the hallway, a pair of socks over her nose.
“I… I don’t even care anymore.” I simply stared at her. “I have lost the capacity to care.”
“Good, because you’re going to be dragging her into the Court of Friendship,” my radio said.
“Okay.” I grabbed her mane in my mouth, and started hauling her along. It was strange how it kept trying to wave about in my mouth, and it didn’t help that it tasted like ozone. As delicious at it looked, aurora was not good eating.
“Oh, hold up,” my radio said as I passed Spike. “Tell him where you stashed Twilight.”
“Hey Spike,” I said as I dropped the unconscious Celestia at my hooves. “I stashed Twilight in the custodial closet.”
He bounced up like he’d been electrocuted. “You did what?!” In the space of a blink, he was gone.
“Okay, keep dragging her,” my radio said.
I shrugged and did so. At this point, either my benefactor was completely on point, and I was totally safe, or I was so far past dead they probably would have to bury me six thousand feet under. Considering that Twilight was probably going to wake up soon, she might just put me there herself. I heard she was really good at teleportation.
I finally managed to drag Celestia all the way to the table of friendship, dumping her unceremoniously on the floor in front of it. I had to scrub at my mouth for a minute to get all the still waving mane hairs out. I could not describe how strange that felt. I took a moment to look at her and once again contemplate my transcendent deadness.
“Okay, coming up on the endgame. Still got the disk I sent you?” my radio asked.
“Yeah.” I dug around in my bag, and pulled out the strange silver disk. I’d kind of wondered why, out of all the things he could have sent to our world, he’d sent me that stupid radio and this stupid disk. “I’ve got it.”
“Good, now I need you to climb on top of the table, hold the disk right in front of you, and look like you’re going to do something dramatic with it to Celestia. Feel free to make up something to say if you want to, but you must convince Twilight that this disk is the most evil thing ever. Also, make sure that you can see the far edge of the chandelier in the reflection on your side.”
In a way, I was kind of glad that I had transcended panic. I could almost admire how complete my doom was. Still, I suppose if I was going to go out, I could at least go out in style. I started to think of something clever and ominous to say.
A minute later, Twilight Sparkle burst into the room, and I suddenly understood why my benefactor had made me take a bathroom break. Peeing myself all over Twilight Sparkle’s table was not the way I wanted to go out. Incidentally, Twilight made for an amazingly angry alicorn. The blazing flames in the place of her mane were an especially nice touch.
She took one look at Celestia, then at me, and I could only guess that I’d cracked a few of Spike’s ribs to boot. Her horn proceeded to glow so brightly that I had to squint. “I've had enough!”
She fired her beam right at the silver rainbow disk I held. The beam bounced off it, splitting into dozens of multicolored patterns that streamed across the table beneath me. For a second, I was transfixed by the dancing designs, their flashing patterns making my head buzz. Then the beam died out, and a tense silence settled on the room, broken only by the crackling of Twilight’s mane.
“Now,” my radio said, “If magic behaves as much like light as I think it does...”
The entire castle suddenly went dark. The table beneath me turned to a baleful red. A moment later, great red numbers flickered into the air before me. I jumped off the table as a ring of text formed around them, rotating slowly as the numbers began to tick down. On top of it all, a jaunty yet ominous tune began to play through the castle.
Self destruct sequence activated. Please evacuate.
“Haha! Suck on the power of seedy roms!” my radio said. “Also, you should probably start running.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I took off down one of the side doors, leaving Twilight to deal with Celestia. I certainly hoped she decided to deal with Celestia. Otherwise she was going to be dealing with me.
As I sprinted down the hallways, the castle began to rumble ominously, crystalline dust drifting down from the ceiling. Fortunately, the pulsing red lights seemed to be moving down the halls, almost like a guide through the collapsing castle. I chased them along, my heart lifting as I saw light streaming from outside.
I burst through the frosted glass, and out onto a balcony.
“Oh flip me.” I darted my head left and right, but all around me was nothing but open air.
“Don’t panic,” my radio said. “Count the seventh crenelation from the left, and go squat down next to that.”
“Okay!” I immediately did, bracing against it. “What do I do from here?”
“You wait for the castle to explode.”
There was silence for a moment.
“Oh, flip you, you mother--”
The castle exploded.
So, today I had learned that it was possible to fall long enough to scream yourself hoarse. I also learned that there was enough solid mass in Cloudsdale for you to bounce off the city like a living pinball. Of course, you had to be flying fairly fast to achieve that bounce effect, but, lucky for me, I was going more than fast enough. I also learned that a mare could crash into an abandoned mattress warehouse and survive.
As I dragged myself through my front door, I wanted nothing more than to just lie down and sleep forever. After I showered, that was. Climbing the stairs was a special kind of agony, my knees pleading with me that they’d suffered enough for one day. Somehow, the promise of warm, cascading water convinced them to carry me just a little further.
I flopped into the shower without ceremony, and spent the first minute just glaring at the knobs and wishing that I’d been born a unicorn. I finally hauled myself upright, and turned the knob in my teeth, suffering through the first few seconds of icy cold until the water began to warm up. I sighed as I felt the soothing spray begin to wash the dirt and rubble from my coat, as well as the gallon of dye that I’d soaked into it. Slowly, I saw my natural pink began to come through, the soft rainbows of my mane following shortly afterward. I’d probably want get a new manecut fairly soon as well, just to make doubly sure nopony recognized me as the assailant of the crystal castle.
When I stepped out of the shower, I was back to my old self. Humble Pie stared back at me from the mirror, the pudgy, colorful, and unassuming Canterlot baker. The kind of pony nopony would know. The kind of pony who certainly never consorted with powers beyond the understanding of mere mortals.
Speaking of which, I should probably check on the ritual chamber before bed, especially since I’d lost my radio somewhere over the Everfree.
I stumbled back down the stairs, grumbling softly as I was forced to confront the fact that it had been my own idea to put the chamber down in the basement. What had seemed like a nice bit of traditionalism at the time was rapidly becoming a pain in the flank. By the time I pushed open the door, my body was begging for a break.
Too bad the ritual chamber wasn’t there anymore.
In its place was a walkway through a sea of storms. Clouds swirled in great planes above and below, a tower of stone and steel piercing them both from the walkway’s end. Lightning crackled between the sheets and across the tower, caught on great vanes like the branches of a tree. Every time they were struck, the tower thrummed with an inner light, great rivers of luminescence flaring upon its surface before ebbing back away.
I would have been in awe, had I not been more focused on what a flipping pain that walkway was going to be. Groaning, I dragged myself across it and into the tower proper. Within, there were more channels of light, flowing through ornate runes in the stone, and across branching channels in the steel. There was something to the stone and steel, two alternating themes unique to each that gave the sense that the tower was more cobbled together than built whole.
As I watched, a darkness began to ooze from the cracks and seams of the tower. It pooled together at the center of the ceiling, beginning to stretch down as it gathered, reaching further and further until it hung to the level of my eyes. The darkness twisted, taking on definition, forming into a head that managed to call to mind a dozen dozen different predators without ever being any of them. It grinned at me with a great sawtooth smile, and two eyes of white light opened above it.
“Was that cool or what?!” Announced the voice from my radio.
So this was it. The Lord of Whispers. That Which Watches. The Knocking at the Door, the Scratching in the Night. That which I had sworn in violation of all laws and order to serve. That which had sent me to destroy the castle of friendship, and so open the gates to our world.
“YOU BLEW ME UP,” I screamed at it.
I then punched it in the face.
The Un-magician Finally Makes a Wish
I could still see the face of the shop pony as I placed the bundle of lenses and wires on the counter.
“Child,” he’d said to me, “I have seen many souls pass through my shop, each one seeking some special salve to their woes. I have seen the young and ambitious purchase tomes of power, hoping to carve their names into history with arcane fire. I have seen the weak and the fearful buy instruments of darkness, placing more faith in the shadows of the equine heart than its light. Many of these ponies have found failure, though some have succeeded on both paths, tis true.” He’d reached out then, and placed his hoof on mine. “But never have I seen a pony achieve anything with un-magic. Seriously, put that thing back and buy something worthwhile.”
Of course, I hadn’t listened, and now as I sat at a table of steel, light, and stone, a stormy sea of clouds churning around me, I couldn’t put his words out of my head.
“So, if all parties are agreed,” the Lord of Whispers, or Whispy as he now insisted on being called, said. “The lease will be paid in the form of services, hereafter referred to as ‘miracles’, not to exceed a rate of four per lunar orbit, except in the event of extra compensation as provided under chapter 3, subsections A through G.” He pushed a sheaf of paper across the table to me.
I stared silently at the paper. I had summoned a being beyond equine comprehension and then punched him in the face. His response had been to sit me down and write up a rental contract 'to avoid further distress.' I wasn’t entirely sure whether to laugh or to cry. I ultimately settled for sighing as I picked up the quill and put it to the contract, signing my name where he indicated.
“There.” I spat out the quill on the ground, letting out a huff. “Couldn’t you just pass out some commandments, call down some thunder and lightning, then remake this world into a paradise?”
“Yeah, if I was an idiot.” He scanned the paper for a moment, before nodding and tucking it into the shadows of his form. “Maybe most higher lifeforms are content to just waggle their powers around left and right, but I personally take pride in my work. Slow and steady wins the race.”
“Slow and steady wins the race,” I said. “From the thing that made me blow up a castle.”
“Yes, well, that which hesitates is lost,” Whispy said.
I would have screamed, but my throat just wasn’t up to it anymore. Instead I just sort of gurgled as I ground my face into the table. The stone was soothingly rough and uncomfortable. It felt right.
“Are you okay?” Whispy asked.
“No,” I said. “No, I am not.”
“Well, if you’d like to spend a miracle, perhaps I could help?” I glanced up just far enough to see him grinning in a way I could only be described as earnest.
“No.” I thumped my head back into the table. “I’m good for now.”
“Aw,” he said.
I continued to savor the rough yet cold texture of the table. It was a suitable metaphor for my life right now. I could take solace in it. The modest pain of the blocky edges as they dug into my face seemed like such a mundane, manageable pain compared to the existential irritation I was being forced to endure.
“You sure I can’t help?” Whispy asked. “You look pretty awful.”
“Gee, maybe it’s because I had to sit through drafting a lease at three in the morning after bouncing off a city.” I dug my face even harder into the table, before proceeding to say something I should probably have thought through a little better. “I just wish I could get some sleep.”
“Oh, that’s easily done!” Whispy said.
I barely had time to flinch before there was a prick at the base of my neck, and the world was snuffed out like a candle.
The worst part of waking up is that moment of transition into the real world. You begin in the wonderful world of sleep, where you lay easy and free of all your worldly obligations, content to simply be one with the universe, which just so happens to consist of warmth and fluffiness. And then, like some great tidal wave, the realities of your life come rising up in the distance, a mighty wave of anxiety and responsibility tall enough to blot out the sky. Then it crashes down on you.
“What time is it?!” I jumped upright so fast I was vaguely surprised I didn’t fling myself on another trans-Equestrian flight.
“Five in the morning,” Whispy said, causing my heart to skip a beat.
“What, on the next day?!” I couldn’t possibly feel this good after two hours of sleep. I had to have gotten twenty six.
“Nooo, on the same day. Unless your days are less than two hours long.” He turned and squinted at me. “Are they? Your sun’s already super weird, so I guess it’s possible...”
“You mean I… only slept for two hours?” I was dumbfounded. I felt this good after only two hours?
“Yeah.” Whispy shrugged, which was a strange thing to see on a being without shoulders. “I mean, I helped some. You have no idea how inept the equine brain is at self-maintenance. It’s honestly appalling.”
There was still time! I quickly hopped off the table, and dashed back down the steps of the tower, moving so swiftly that I had to catch myself on the wall several times as the path spiraled back down to the walkway I’d entered on. Faster than I thought possible, I was across the walkway and back upon my basement steps, my legs burning as I scrambled up them. My eyes caught a glimpse of the clock as I tore through the kitchen.
5:29 and maybe 50 seconds!
I skidded on the smooth tile of the dining area, costing me precious time. Outside, I could already see him dashing across the street, that manic grin plastered clean across his face. With every ounce of strength in my body, I threw myself at the door and rammed the lock open. At the very last second, I threw the door wide.
“Aaaaaahhhhhhh!” With that single cry, Dynamic Entry flew through the open door and straight into a table, flipping himself clean over it and onto the floor.
“Hey Dynamic,” I said, panting heavily. “So close. Also, you have issues.”
Dynamic slowly pulled himself upright with the aid of the table, or at least as far as he could before the already brutalized furniture folded like a house of cards. With a crack and a squeak, Dynamic went right back on the floor. I was glad the table was cheap, or I might not have enjoyed the sight so much.
“Here.” I trotted over and lent him a hoof, helping the police pony back upright. It was a wonder that they hadn’t booted the whack-job of a unicorn off the force yet, but apparently he was really good at what he did. Which, if his nigh-obsessive behavior was any indication, revolved largely around smashing through doors. That and the C.C.P.D. wasn’t exactly eager to lose anypony who’d sign on.
“Thanks.” He gradually dusted himself off, knocking some splinters out of his midnight blue coat. The fur had been through far worse, given the multiple scars crosshatched across it. “Sorry about the table.”
“It was cheap for a reason,” I said “As long as you stop short of the counter, I’m happy. And as long as you pay for it.”
“Ugh, I hope it was really cheap then.” He shot me a concerned look. “Everything alright? You’re usually way more on your game.”
“It’s been a… weird day,” I said.
“No kidding.” His face split into a grin, and he snickered. “I heard Princess Sparkle’s castle exploded. And this is after high and mighty Captain Nightshade made such a huge fuss about putting a royal detachment out there to guard it. Can’t even find the pony who did it either. He’s lucky he’s a thestral. If he were a pegasus I bet he’d be preening himself bald under all the stress.”
“Hey! It’s hardly Captain Nightshade’s fault!” I would know, after all. “It’s not like he was there himself.”
“Pffft,” Dynamic rolled his eyes. “Like it would have mattered. Those guards are all equally useless. Just look at the changeling invasion!”
“Again with the changeling invasion!” I threw up my hooves. “You know he got promoted for defending an orphanage with nothing more than a broom?”
“No, he got promoted because Shining Armor got bumped up to prince!” He threw up his own hooves. “The equestrian military is just one gigantic study in rampant nepotism!”
“As opposed to the C.C.P.D. which is a gigantic study in whining!”
“My points are valid!”
“Sure, for a whiner!”
“You just think Captain Nightshade has a cute butt!”
“And you’re just jealous you don’t!”
“My butt is adorable!”
“Yeah, if you like patchwork quilts!”
“Ahem!” We both stopped short as a third voice intruded, and my heart locked up as I recognized Whispy’s voice. I whipped around to face him, only to find myself staring at a pony.
Mind, calling him a pony was a bit generous. There was something subtly off about his figure, a looming and spindly tallness that wasn’t quite enough to be nightmarish, but just enough to make looking at him uncomfortable. It didn’t help that I’d yet to turn the lights on, and he’d chosen to lurk at the extreme edge of sight. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d suddenly scuttled up the walls or something, though I sincerely hoped he wouldn’t.
“Humble,” Dynamic shot me a serious look, suddenly surprisingly mature. “Do you know this stallion?”
“Uh, oh, y-yes.” It took me a moment to shake off my unease, and manage a smile. “He’s my new… tenant!”
“Tenant?” Dynamic raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you could rent out your bakery like that.”
“I’m more of a live-in assistant,” Whispy said. “At least until I find a place I can afford in the city.” He smiled, which might have been endearing if his teeth weren’t too big and too sharp. “I don’t have my hopes up though.”
“Yeah, I hear that.” Dynamic’s posture slowly relaxed, though I could see he wasn’t quite at ease. Not that I could blame him. “Practically living in a tent myself.”
“Indeed.” That smile of his took on a wicked cast, and I felt my heart sink a moment before he spoke his next words. “I’m surprised you don’t live more comfortably though, as a civil servant. I hear the royal guard barracks are quite comfortable.”
“Oh, don’t get me started!” Any tension immediately dropped from Dynamic as he slipped right back into rant mode. “You know the entire quartermaster system up there is a sham! Upholding royal dignity my butt! It’s just a thinly veiled excuse for the privileged second and third children of the spoiled nobility to pretend at chivalry on the taxpayer’s bit! Last I checked, the thread count of your sheets shouldn’t be a factor in defense spending!”
“Oh?” Whispy asked in a tone of such sincere curiosity I could have wrung his skinny neck on the spot. “That does seem rather unfair.”
“Oh it’s beyond unfair! Here the C.C.P.D. is, busting our butts on the beat, while they strut around like they’re actually doing their share of the work!” And now he’d started to pace around, waving a free hoof in the air wildly between steps. “And don’t get me started on their hidebound traditionalism! Every one of them is allergic to even the slightest shred of sensibility! Blackened steel armor, or maybe even toughened cloth? Nah, let’s all march around in solid gold. It sends a stronger impression! The impression that we’re all idiots!” I wasn’t sure, but I thought he was actually starting to foam at the mouth. “They were beaten by bugs. Naked bugs with no weapons. Naked unarmed bugs whose sole claim to fame is being able to disguise themselves when they’re all terrible actors!”
“Sorry to butt in,” I said, stuffing a donut in Dynamic’s mouth before he could hyperventilate. “I need to have a word with my assistant briefly.”
“Mmmmf,” Dynamic said.
I quickly hustled Whispy out of the room, and away from any witnesses. I then proceeded to try and choke him to death. “What are you doing? He’s crazy enough when you’re not winding him up like a clock!”
“But I think he has legitimate points!” Whispy said, or at least I thought that was what he said. It was very gurgly and wheezy.
“Well I think he’s going to have a psychotic fit if you don’t cut it out!” I squeezed his neck a little harder, and gave him a shake for good measure. “So help me, if he keels over I am picking you up and tossing you back through that door!”
“But then you’d miss out on your miracles,” Whispy said.
“Nnnnnggggghhhh!” I finally released him, if only so I could brace my hooves on the wall and bang my skull into it. My throat still wasn’t up to screaming.
“Want me to fix your throat?” Whispy asked.
“No!” My mind flashed back to my errant admission of wanting sleep. “What I want is...”
I paused. A part of me wanted to say something like ‘for you to go away,’ but he was totally right about my miracles. Here I was, a possible fugitive from some of the most powerful ponies in Equestria, and so far what did I have to show for it? So far, a good two hour long nap.
“I want to be safe from all the flipping princesses and their buddies that I peeved off letting you in here,” I finally said.
“Oh, that one’s free,” he said, prompting me to shoot him a quizzical look. “Hey, I’m not going to trade you wishes in return for a situation you have to wish yourself out of. At that point I might as well just trade you one less wish to start with and not be a huge jerk about it. I’m mischievous, not cruel.”
“After you con me into blowing one on a nap?” I said.
He shot me a flat look. “Tell me you didn’t seriously need that nap.”
“I… nnnngh, fine.” I huffed and slowly got back on all four hooves.
“Look,” Whispy said. “It’s clear I’ve wound you a little too much, so here: one bonus miracle. As listed under chapter 3, subsection D of the lease agreement.”
“For real?” I asked.
He rolled his eyes. “For real. It’s on the paper and everything.”
“Hm.” I leaned back against the wall, trying to let my irritation settle. So, one free wish, or rather miracle. Funny, back when I’d first bought that stupid gizmo for the ritual chamber it had seemed so important that I be able to bend reality to my will. Now that I had the real and honest chance to, my mind was suddenly oddly blank.
Then, slowly, an idea began to take shape. A horrible, terrible, wonderful idea. An idea almost as delicious as the prize it promised. I slowly licked my lips.
“Here’s what I wish...”
I actually wound up spending my free wish on just getting the bakery in order. After the mess my morning had become, I was seriously behind on the morning’s work. It actually turned out to be a really mundane process. Apparently Whispy was perfectly content to just fulfill requests by hoof.
“If everything is theatrical, nothing is,” he’d said, shortly before burning his hooves on a muffin pan and cursing in a language that sounded like whetstones attacking each other.
Afterwards, however, I’d gotten down to the real miracle.
The royal training grounds weren’t a place I visited often. Baking was a full time job, especially in Canterlot where being closed at the wrong time could mean accidentally snubbing the client that would make or break you. When you were on the bottom of the totem pole, every day was a climb just to stay there. Still, some days I could spare the time.
Especially days when Captain Nightshade was training.
“As beautiful as he is deadly,” I sighed, letting myself get lost in the spectacle.
If somepony had asked, ‘what does Captain Nightshade look like?’ and another pony had answered, ‘oh, he’s brown with a green mane,’ I would have bucked them. I would have bucked them in the face, through a wall, and probably through whatever stood beyond. Because Captain Nightshade was not just a brown coat and a green mane. He was so much more.
His mahogany coat glistened in the afternoon heat, his sweat only making it more glossy and lustrous in the shining light of Celestia’s sun. His mane danced in the breeze, just long enough to catch the wind with every motion, his evergreen locks moist and glittering like morning dew on fresh pine branches. His wings walked the perfect line between elegance and strength, their nocturnal lines brimming with dark mystery, while their velvety skin promised an embrace more warm and intimate than any feather could ever be. And amidst it all, his eyes gleamed like polished amber, rich, deep, clear, and sharp.
He was incredible.
“So this is what the ideal pony looks like,” Whispy said, snapping me out of my reverie. “Huh.”
“Ehrm, yes, yes he is.” I fought the urge to just melt back into my daydream as Nightshade continued his training regimen, leaving a trail of exhausted and beaten sparring partners in his wake. “And that’s why I want him.”
“Him?” I could hear Whispy’s eyebrows go up. “You want to spend a miracle on him?”
I pulled myself away long enough to shoot him a vicious look. “Yeah, I do.”
“Pfffft.” He rolled his eyes. “Power and experience greater than most type II civilizations, and you spend it getting your groove on.”
“Are you going to whine, or are you going to miracle?” I said.
“Fine! Fine. How much do you want him? Like, drooling love slave, soulmate, smitten coltfriend?” Somehow his continued eye rolling was even more audible than his raised eyebrows. “Or do you just want a chance so you can feel good about yourself and pretend you’re not basically cheating your butt off?”
“Oh, I know I’m cheating. I don’t care.” I licked my lips. “Let’s go with smitten coltfriend. The cute phase where they’re just awkward enough to make you feel out of their league.”
“You know,” Whispy said, his voice carrying the slightest glimmer of respect. “At least you know where you stand and own it. Though, I’m going to warn you, there’s absolutely going to be huge amounts of social fallout from this. Like, this idea is evidently terrible.”
“Mmm, anything that leads to a butt like that can’t be a terrible idea.”
“Okay, I’m officially remembering this for an ‘I told you so’ later. Still, I suggest you sleep well.” His eye rolling at this point was practically deafening. “Tomorrow you’ll be entertaining the most eligible stallion in Canterlot.”
I just grinned, and indulged the urge to rub my front hooves together wickedly. “Excellent.”
A moment later a guard approached us from the grounds.
“Excuse me?” He said. “I’ve been told to ask you to leave. You’re creeping out the trainees.”
Author's Note
To be continued...
