The Legend of Trixie

Chapters

Present Day - The Best Night Ever (just not for Trixie)
Day 8: Second Entry - A Command Performance
Preview - The Return of Tambelon
Day XX, part 2 - The Arc of Time
Present Day - Hayburgers, First Dates, and Accepting Mortality
Day... Spring? Spring: The Moon Rises
Starswirl - Oh deer...
Past - Galloping to Gallopoli
Gusty the Great
Tonal Architect
The Windchimes of Winter
Do Zebras Dream of Stripy Sheep?
Narrativus Interruptus
Day 4: First Entry - I wanna go home...
Day 16 - I am a Poor, Wayfaring Pony
Clover and Melody: A Follow-Up

Present Day - The Best Night Ever (just not for Trixie)

25 Twilight, Canterlot Palace

It was the best night ever.

Every year, it was the best night ever.

Just get through these ridiculous greetings, and it will be the Best. Night. Ever.

No matter how many times Princess Twilight Sparkle repeated that lie to herself, she wondered how Celestia had managed to keep that beatific smile for the hours and hours she had to stand at the doors to Canterlot Palace, greeting every trussed up noble and self-important bigwig who’d weaseled their way into acquiring a ticket for themselves and their dates to the Grand Galloping Gala.

She was considering Luster’s proposal from last year. Her student had perfected a muscle-tightening spell by pure accident, and after an… initial panicked outbreak of a ‘pony-freezing plague’… swore to the formula’s safety in small dosages. Would be nice to keep her smile up at times like this.

The Friendship Letter from that one was certainly entertaining. Even Celestia laughed when I forwarded it to her, she thought, her smile briefly becoming genuine as she shook the hoof of a unicorn she neither knew, nor cared to know, but was aware he owned an obscene number of plastic factories. Some of which, even, didn’t contribute to his wife’s appearance.

“Welcome to the Grand Galloping Gala,” Twilight said, so mechanically she might have been mistaken for an equimatronic at Whimseyland or another theme park, “I am most pleased to see you tonight.”

The earth pony guardsmare who she’d said this to blushed furiously under her blue coat and heavy armor. “Um… thank you, Princess…”

“Oh, sorry, Rock Solid!” the Princess facehoofed, “I was on auto-pilot there for a bit.”

“It’s no big deal, Your Majesty,” the guard nodded understandingly, then grinned, “I remember you greeting empty air last year.”

Princess Twilight grinned sheepishly, and chuckled at the memory. Then, she looked about, only to find that Lieutenant Solid was the only pony or creature sharing the entryway with her.

“No more guests?” she leaned down, her own grin widening.

“Affirmative, ma’am. Ticket count has been verified. No unauthorized beings have been detected on the grounds… except for Discord,” the guard’s own smile tightened.

Twilight nodded acceptance. ‘Except for Discord’ was practically on the Royal Letterhead these days. If the Princess hadn’t gotten assurances from Fluttershy that she, Discord, and the children, would be taking an out-of-universe vacation during the Gala, she’d have kept a better eye-out for the old Draconequus.

“Good! Thank you, Lieutenant,” Twilight said, glancing towards the Gala itself, “Then I shall take this opportunity to mingle. You can take your break now, if you’d like.”

Solid bowed slightly to her sovereign. “Thank you, Your… oh!” her eyes lit up for a moment as she recalled something important, “Lord Spike wanted you to know your expected letter was delivered just now.”

The Princess’s eyebrows raised, then furrowed, “And… Lord Spike didn’t deliver this message himself because…?”

The guard shuffled her hooves, and the Princess could detect a single sweat drop making its way down her muzzle.

“Um… apparently he and Lady Rarity…”

Twilight threw her head back and groaned, as dramatic as anything Rarity herself had done and then some. When she brought her head back around, her annoyance was there, though plainly cut by a smirk.

“Those two are impossible somedays…”

The Princess finally let the smirk take its place. She leaned down again, and gave her guard a conspiratorial whisper, “Oh well. Let them have their fun. Once the baby arrives, it’s going to be work, work, work for those two. I’d like to see them do more than sneak off to nap at that point!

“Now,” she regained her regal bearing and tossed her head in the direction of the barracks, “You’re dismissed, Lieutenant. Have the night off, in fact.”

The guard nodded enthusiastically, and immediately made her way from the Gala with all due haste. Twilight laughed, seeing such spritely behavior in her guards. But she couldn’t stand there all night.

She had a Gala to enjoy. But first… with the arrival of that letter, a letter she didn’t doubt came from her and Daring Do’s little historical project… Twilight knew she wanted to talk to one pony in particular tonight. She just had to figure out where, in all the merry festivities, she would find that Great and Powerful Showpony.

The Gala was in prime form this year, Twilight noted. Pinkie had outdone herself, somehow pairing Prince Blueblood’s high-society style with just the right amount of whimsy. The ice-sculptures had been swapped out for ice-cream-sculptures, the string orchestra had been partly converted to electronic and electric instruments, and she’d managed to fit an entire relay-obstacle-course into the East Wing, which delighted even the most stuck-up social parasites in attendance.

The Princess assumed her friend was taking a cake-break out in the gardens about this time. The only other pony she immediately recognized was the Prince himself, and he was fulfilling his most important duty of the night; keeping the social parasites focused on him instead of Twilight.

She was most grateful for this service, as it allowed her a chance to spy out the crowd and pin down her ultimate target.

Trixie Lulamoon was near the back of the West Wing, milling about the buffet and drinks tables, watching the rest of the guests partake in a round of dancing. Princess Twilight kept to the edge of the dancers, hugging the palace walls so close she might as well have been a mural. Due to the distance, it took the Alicorn a minute to cross the hall and get near enough to engage her once-imagined-rival.

“Trixie!” she smiled as she approached. Trixie hadn’t really changed that much over the last few years. Her coat was still bright, and she’d kept in remarkably good shape. Probably a result of her performances, which she refused to fully cancel even after taking up her Counselor job so many years ago. She even wore her light purple robe-like dress to the Gala.

Trixie, a glass of red punch held in her magical aura, turned around and gave the Princess a hard look.

“Evening, Sparkle,” she sighed, “But before you accuse me of any wrongdoing, let it be known that Trixie was given a ticket for this little event of yours!”

Twilight’s genuine smile faded, “Um, Trixie? I know.”

“See!” the blue showmare reached into her dress and drew out a folded piece of paper. It looked like somepony had scribbled down one side of it. “I even got the mailchangeling to write me a receipt! So, who’s forging documents now, hm?”

Twilight stared, unimpressed, at the smug-angry expression Trixie shot her.

“Trixie, I know. I sent you that ticket.”

“… you did?”

Twilight nodded.

Trixie narrowed her eyes suspiciously, and took another long sip of her punch. She let the receipt drop to the floor.

“Well,” she shrugged, “I guess you’ve successfully lured me here then. I didn’t even need to hop the fence this time.”

“When did you hop the…?”

Trixie went on, heedless, “Nevertheless, you’ve succeeded, as I’ve said! So now, go ahead. Get your gloating out of the way.”

The Princess found herself fidgeting slightly. Her wings ruffled, and her hooves itched with nervous energy. She was clearly missing something here, and missing out on information was something she could not abide.

“Trixie?” she asked, gingerly, ears flattening atop her head, “Is… is something the matter?”

Trixie huffed, “Oh, I don’t know, Sparkle. Maybe you just wanted me to see how much bigger your palace is than the hoof-me-down you let Starlight keep. Newsflash, Princess!” she hissed the title, “We both live in castles! It isn’t that impressive!”

This… was a very strange conversation. Twilight started thinking up, not only her potential responses, but a couple of different ways she could steer this conversation back to normalcy. Or, at least whatever was closest to normalcy when Trixie was involved.

Said unicorn was busy polishing off her punch. And she looked ready to go for a refill.

Twilight sighed, “Trixie, I didn’t come here to complain, or to gloat, or to fight you at all. I just wanted to ask you some questions about your… time travel incident.”

“Why?” Trixie poured herself another glass, “So you can tell Trixie how historically preposterous whatever I say is?”

Twilight winced. She had said something like that, decades ago, when Trixie had hopped merrily back to the present day, after apparently spending over a year trapped in ancient Equestria. She probably wouldn’t believe her story now, except that Daring had started finding evidence…

Clearly, and the Princess didn’t know why she didn’t think this would be the case, Trixie was holding a grudge.

But, as Twilight went to apologize… something she was starting to realize she should have done years ago, and not just because she’d found a slightly more reliable document to compare Trixie’s current memories to… the showmare pitched to one side, and only barely got her hooves out under herself before she could smack straight into the floor.

“Trixie!” Twilight surged forward, catching Trixie’s falling punch cup in her magic before it could shatter, and the showmare herself with one of her large wings. Trixie’s face was flushed. She was awake, but the Princess could see her eyes were just now refocusing, as if she’d dozed off.

“Oh,” a blue hoof touched Trixie’s forehead, feeling the light fever in her temples, “Uh, guess I… overdid it there…”

Twilight held her up, and began walking them both towards a small service hall off to the side. Nocreature seemed to notice them, with the sole exception of Blueblood, who shot Twilight a concerned, quizzical look. He continued his vigil against the vile social climbers surrounding him, however, obviously trusting his sovereign to deal with whatever was happening.

Once the two were a ways from the party, Twilight let Trixie stand on her own four hooves. Trixie had seemingly recovered from her short lapse, but she did not protest Twilight’s support. In fact, she looked almost ashamed, even remorseful, once they’d stopped.

“Trixie, is everything okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine, Twilight,” she waved down the Princess’s concern, “I’ve been coming down with something all week.”

There was that wince again, and a look of embarrassment in her eyes. “I… Trixie is sorry for how she was behaving,” she looked away, “I’ve been sick. There’s a tough couple of cases back at the School… you know how tough dragons can be on their kids… and it’s still a school night. And… I’ve just been feeling a little down lately. But those aren’t excuses. Not good ones.”

Twilight smiled, sadly, and nodded. “I understand completely. You’re not up to it tonight. I wish you’d stayed home and taken care of yourself instead. I hate seeing you like this.”

“Pathetic?” Trixie smiled, but there wasn’t much laughter behind it.

“Angry,” Twilight nodded, “Resentful. Like you and I used to be. I thought… I thought we were friends. Good friends. Not like back then.”

Trixie sighed, “I know. It… just comes out. Like the third-pony thing,” she chuckled, but that set off a short burst of coughing.

“Trixie,” Twilight raised her head up, taking a commanding pose, “I order you to go home, and get some rest. Tell Starlight you need a few days off, as well. You’re exhausted!”

“I thought you had questions?” Trixie asked, though Twilight could almost hear the weariness in her tone.

“Next time,” the Princess shook her head, “Your health comes first.”

Trixie looked up into Twilight’s eyes. She didn’t move, didn’t say anything. After a few moments, she sighed… and seemed to almost deflate when she did so.

“Alright, I’ll head home. Sorry about… all this, Sparkle,” she turned, and started heading approximately back towards the front of the Palace, “Next time, I promise… Trixie will be better.”

Princess Twilight sighed. Well, there went the chance to talk about Hyneighria, Starswirl, or anything like that tonight. She supposed she would have to take solace in a new update from Daring.

Still, as Twilight watched Trixie walk away, she couldn’t shake the cold, sinking feeling in her stomach. There was something about the way Trixie was walking, something that bothered her. It was like she didn’t have any energy, like she was carrying some huge weight across her withers that was holding her down.

The way Trixie had deflated struck Twilight. Trixie never just let things slide, no matter how much she’d improved over the years. It was… disconcerting.

The Princess sighed, relegating her fears to the back of her mind, where they belonged. She needed to put in an appearance at the Gala before turning in to read Daring’s report, so, with no small amount of trepidation, she turned around…

Only to nearly run over two very familiar ponies.

Prince Blueblood and Celeste Lulamoon, Trixie’s daughter by Starswirl, and Twilight’s once-student of magic, stared up at the Princess of Friendship with worried frowns.

“Your Majesty,” Blueblood raised an eyebrow, “Is everything all right?”

Celeste pointed her hoof down the corridor, “Yeah, what’s going on with you and Mom?”

Twilight glanced back over her shoulder, noting that Trixie had fully disappeared around the corner. She sighed, and turned back to her two closest companions at the Palace, besides Spike.

“Trixie’s not feeling well,” she said, “I was trying to talk to her about… something, and she almost collapsed. Blueblood?”

The stallion stood a bit straighter. His attitude wasn’t always perfect, but he had grown by leaps and bounds since the first time Twilight, or rather, Rarity, had met him. His professionalism now did him credit.

“I want a guard escort for Trixie, but I don’t want her to notice them. Could you order a few Batponies to follow her and make sure she doesn’t get hurt on her way home?”

“It will be done,” the Prince took off at a quick canter towards where they both knew the nearest guard station in the Palace lay.

Twilight watched him disappear, and then turned back towards…

A grinning Celeste.

“So,” the gray unicorn mare smirked and spoke in a slow, teasing tone, “You tried to ask her about her journal?”

Twilight deadpanned, and then turned an inquisitive eye onto her student.

“That journal is classified. Princess-level, as far as I recall.”

“Yeah, well,” Celeste blinked, innocently, “If you didn’t want me to read your classified stuff, you should have used harder spells to lock the documentation away.”

“I used the best cypher-spells known to ponykind,” Twilight sighed.

To which Celeste merely sniffed, and said, “Guess I’m just as awesome and powerful as I think I am.”

The two stood silently in the hall, facing the other with stony stoicism. Neither blinked. Neither fidgeted.

Then, as though on cue, they both giggled. The two let the tenseness of the moment before pass with their laughter, and after another minute, they could both regard each other with their usual comfort and casualness.

“Alright,” Twilight smiled, “I’ll let you take an official look at the reports. Happy?”

Celeste nodded, “Thank you. Considering the only reason I was born was Mom time traveling, I think that’s fair. Need me to smooth anything over with her?”

Twilight shook her head, “Not at the moment. I didn’t get to bring it up. Just… take care of her? For the next couple of days, at least.”

Celeste rolled her eyes, “You know, she complains that I don’t spend enough time with her already, and I’m over there four nights a week. I think she suspects you’re trying to steal me from her.”

The Princess winked. “Well, why not? I get all of Trixie’s talent, without… alright, so the ego’s still there,” she tittered, “but I got to house-train you.”

“Okay! Okay!” the unicorn started walking away, back towards the Gala, “I get it! You love me! I’m going to save both our dignities and get some punch. You coming?”

Twilight shook her head. “No, I’m not feeling it anymore. I think I’ll… do some light reading.”

Celeste nodded, knowingly, but left things at that.

The Princess let a bit of her magic flow, and with nary an effort, she had popped away. Her private chamber appeared around her with that flash of purple light, and Twilight could sigh in relief.

No more Gala. No worrying about Trixie, or Celeste, right now. She removed her regalia and set it on its stand by her door, and then she turned eagerly back towards her luxurious, purple bed.

There was a brown paper package right in the middle of the bed. With an experimental brush of her magic, she could tell it was a heavy stack of paper. Probably heavily annotated. Ancient, yet not ancient.

“Now, Trixie,” she mused as she tore at the packaging, “Let’s see what happened to you after reaching Hyneighria…”

Day 8: Second Entry - A Command Performance

Returning to Trixie's misadventures, I'm sorry it's taken a while to get this compiled. A lot of the journal has slowly disintegrated in its tomb, so I've been painstakingly preserving the text while translating and annotating. Yeah, translating. Trixie's hoof-writing is pretty abysmal, and I think as she went on she subconsciously started using more archaic terminology. Most of it, I've fixed to be legible. Some of it, I've left. Mostly because she didn't always use it correctly, and that's hilarious!

Alright, so while Trixie may have called Hyneighria a dump before, she would like to amend that statement by stating that while it is indeed a dump, it is also full of appreciative, wonderful fans.

The day after I arrived here, I had a whole list of errands to run. I needed to get a new hat and cape made, load up on supplies for running my shows, as well as food for when I hit the road next, and buy a wagon. A traveling magician needs her wagon, after all. It’s part of the uniform.

Unfortunately, I would have to spend the morning with Sparkleshine, teaching her how to teleport, even when I myself was not an undisputed master of the technique yet. And so, at the crack of dawn right around nine-ish, Trixie had to rise from her cot and get the ball rolling.

That Swirly kid wanted to come with, and Trixie would never deny one of her fans the chance to be her go-fer, so I naturally allowed it. He helped convince the kitchen staff (both of them) that I was a big, important guest of the Mayor, which I was, which got us our breakfast for the day. Compared to most travel-food, it was alright. Stale haycakes and iffy cheese. It was no Spike-made pancakes, but then I wasn’t expecting fine dining.

You may already know this, Princess, but your Royal Adviser's cooking prowess is kind of a legend in and of itself. I remember right after my adventure with Rarity (Daring Do and the Curse of Skull-Smasher Island) he treated us to some of those pancakes Trixie's talking about.
I had pancake withdrawals after that. Just saying.

Sparkleshine was eager to begin as I entered the main hall.

“Ooh! I’m so excited!” ~~the pink unicorn pony practically pranced~~

Right, enough of that. She was happy to see me. Unlike some Sparkles.

Now, teleportation is tricky magic. ~~Not just anypony can master its secrets. That’s why only myself, the Princesses, Starlight, Shining Armor, Rarity, Sweetie Belle, Disc~~

Not just anypony can master it. So, I gave Sparkleshine a little lecture and some demonstrations. It felt good to finally hold something over a pony that looked so much like Princess Twilight. I will admit, in my past I had something of a rivalry going with her. But then, I was mature enough to move past it, while she held the grudge long into her princesshood.

Sparkleshine, I will admit, is a natural at this magic business. Must run in the family, so at least Twilight can’t claim she’s so high and mighty just from studying. Sparkleshine was teleporting mugs and chairs within minutes. She was so happy, so full of excitement, that Trixie even got a little worried.

Genealogical records are pretty accurate for the last two-hundred years or so. But it's hard to find records of non-nobles past that, and Pre-Celestial records on families is non-existent. So, we can't prove that Sparkleshine is your ancestor, Your Highness, but there are a few myths and legends that could help. Starswirl drifted away from most everypony mentioned in this journal after a few years, so we don't have a lot from him, but he did turn me onto a few mentions of a pink unicorn who founded one of the early Sorcery Schools in the Post-Grogar Era. Might have some luck looking there.

She almost reminded me of Pinkie. And just like Pinkie, she got carried away. Thankfully, Captain Bowtie and his sister Ribbon had joined us for the demonstration. Ribbon had been happy enough to teleport her brother’s helmet across the hall, and didn’t seem like she wanted to push the envelope (not like those exist yet).

Unlike Sparkle, who decided to try teleporting herself, despite Trixie’s warnings. I panicked along with everypony else. While I would never admit this to her face, as much as our rivalry has been a thorn in my side, I would never wish actual harm onto Princess Twilight. And causing her ancestor to vaporize herself through a bad teleport would be the worst possible thing.

I’d never have met my Bestie, Starlight, without the Princess.

Thank Celestia (who isn’t born yet) Bowtie found her on the roof. Turns out, she was afraid of heights, so it would take a few hours to coax her down. I took that opportunity to get my shopping done.

Again, Swirly tagged along. I get the feeling he’s taking notes on all the magic stuff despite not writing anything down. Paper’s pretty expensive, all things considered. I showed Swirly’s mom, Page Turner, the paper-making spell my first night sleeping in her library, and she seemed super-duper happy to learn it.

Confirmation of one of Starswirl's parents' names. Something so simple, yet so mysterious. Starswirl apparently doesn't like talking about his parents. It doesn't sound like a happy ending there. Sorry.

I think I accidentally invented that spell in this timeline. I have to stop doing that.

Get used to reading that. I wouldn't put it past her to accidentally invent the spell that let unicorns move the sun and moon.

Related: Trixie makes a lot of observations about how the natural world worked back then that makes it clear, at least to a laypony like myself, that the whole planet used to take care of itself, seasons and all. Might want to cut those parts if you let this thing get published. Don't want to prop up those Climate Changers in parliament, right?

The seamstresses were on the other side of town, so I decided to turn the tables on the pipsqueak and ask him some questions.

“So, Swirly,” I said, “How’d your folks get to be the librarians around here?”

“My father was born here, in Hyneighria,” he said, after thinking it over a second or two. He tends to do that, I noticed. Paranoid little fella. “And his kin served the Sparkles for generations. But my mother came from Roam, seeing as how she’s a unicorn.”

Okay, big revelations all around. Page Turner was from Roam? And if Starswirl specifies that she was a unicorn, does that mean his dad wasn't? Again, there's no information to go on.

Roam, at least, I can elaborate a little on. The Eternal City, it was called. Trixie's right in that it's a pretty legendary place of magic and mystery. It's currently a crater since a gang of thieves activated an ancient self-destruct device while trying to steal a vault under the city (Daring Do #34: All Roads Lead to Roam). Also, sorry.

“Your mother’s… from Roam?” I was shocked! Even I’ve heard of the legendary city. It was supposed to be a unicorn-paradise, a city of wizards, at least in the stories mom told me.

Swirly nodded, “Aye, at least until they threw her out.”

“What happened?”

T̵̺̾h̸͎͂e̷͕̞̖̰̊̇ṙ̸̩͎̒̍ȩ̸̹͔̊͊̐̈́ ̸͈̮͚̙͊͛i̴͓̎͐s̵̺̝̩̲͐̽͑ ̸̱̖̺̲͑͌n̸̙̘͗̓͝ò̸̮̀͘t̶̬̗̹͓́̒̄̇h̴͙̑͛̀͝i̵̹̦̦͂n̸͚̖̗̋̄͠g̷̼̅̑̕ ̷̮̟̺̩̓̏̑t̷̼͋͛o̸̢͋̽̎͗ ̷̦̀̃̑r̸̘͉̗͎͋̉̍̾e̵̬̟̰̾͘ą̶̜͕͔̀̚ḏ̴̜̰͓̉́͠ ̸̺͕̦̥̂̂h̶̖̖͆͌ͅe̵͓̲̾̈́̉r̶̬̪̪͊͠ȇ̸̺̝͖̈́͗͆,̴̡̂̓͒̆ ̵̪̈́͑͋̅s̶̹̼͇̞̓͆̈́͛ṱ̵͖̻̱̿́o̸̞̔̈̈́p̶̞̣͈͂̎̈́ ̵͔͇͖̫̓̍̚͝ṫ̷͍̝͖̦̽̋r̷̗̣̀̓͊ÿ̸̭͛̈́ỉ̵̻͚́̅͑ň̸̫̤͂͛̄g̸̙̟͔̊̏̂.̶̰̈́T̴͔̳̈h̶̢͔̖͓͆̆̏̂ȇ̷̫r̵̛̪̲ę̸̃ ̷̦̦̖̊̀͝í̷̘̞̭͜s̷̠̫̈̆͝ ̵̮̖͈̘̔͠n̵̢̦͕̍ơ̸̳̫͉͋̾̀t̴̮͐͝h̶̨̯̮͌̈͘i̴̥̩̝̍̍̕n̷̮͒͜g̸̢͉̮̿͠ ̶̘̦̎̅̈̚t̸͍͒͆͐o̸̗͍͉̽̏ ̵̹͎̦̯̒r̶̛͍̄̔͐e̴̻͇͎͠ä̵̧́̄̈d̷̼̯̙͎̔ ̶̙̣͐̀̀͑ḧ̴̭̩̼͂̆̕e̶̜̠͑̀̋́r̷̟̭͝ȅ̸͙̬̣̾̈́̚,̴͎̫̠̝̀̒ ̴̮̭͉͑̔s̴̟̥͙͊͜ẗ̵́̌͂͊͜ỏ̵͖͂͝p̸̨͙̀̌͒͝ ̵̢͎͇̯͌̔t̶͓̹͑̆͝ŗ̴̛͍̻̂̀y̵̲͋͂̚i̶̼̥̮̥͊̓ņ̴̪͓̭͋̀̈́̄g̸̠͋̂̌͝.̴̨̧̤̹̎̽̽Ṫ̴͚̿͝h̷̙̣͑̿ę̴̛̭̦̕̕r̸̲͗̍̈ḕ̷͔͛̕ ̵͈̖͘i̷̝̰͚̦͗s̷̢̯̹͙̽ ̸̖͍̄̽͜͠n̶̖̟͌͂͒̌͜ő̴͎͖͊t̸͍͛͐h̶͍̬̻̠̉i̸͙̮͉̔̾͒ṇ̵̏g̴̱̤̟̀͘ ̴̖͜͠ẗ̴̙͍̥́͊͠ȏ̸͚̤͔̟̇ ̸͈͊͐̊r̴͓̈͌è̶̱ã̴̖̀̌͐d̷̗͎̤͈͗̐̒ ̴͇̫̩͋̽̽ͅh̷̦̬̏̔͝ẽ̴̠r̷̹̩͖̠͑̐́͝ḙ̷̲͕̥̆͌͠,̶̦͌ ̶̘̼̫̆͌̉͜s̵̗͉̳̥̎̀̊t̸̢̟͆̕ͅỏ̸͍͍̝͍͛͆p̵̢̗̗̘̑͒͝ ̶̢̐̉t̸̼͛͜͠͠r̵̰̯̃y̵͊̀ͅi̸͍͋͗ñ̵͚́g̴̳̎͛͠.̵̛͇̺̭T̶̉͌ͅh̴͓̬̍̓͂e̸̼̜̊ͅr̷̨̗̯͉̃͝ē̶͎̥̼̬͐ ̴̤̮̂̊i̶̡̹͌̓̂ś̷́̉ͅ ̴̫̤͝ṅ̸͈͛̆͊ó̷̧͚̘ẗ̷͇̺̰̲́̏͠ḧ̸͖̘̮́̆i̷̠͆̋ǹ̸̹͌̐ǵ̸̞̝ ̶͈̆͒̾͆ẗ̴̯̱́̿ŏ̴͕̼͔͊ ̷̤͇̣̳́̓ṙ̶̞̙ḛ̷̾̽̉a̴̖͠d̵̢̡͔̤̈͐ ̶̨͉̫̝͠ḩ̴̯͇̅e̷̱͍͔̿̓ṛ̸͗̿͛ȇ̷͍͂̍,̴̙̯̿͜ ̸̛͔̼̣s̷̗̮̔̀̏t̷̢̰̘̟̿͛o̷̻̰͂͜p̸͖͚̣͛̾̊̈́ ̶̞̄͂̎̏t̷͉̀̂r̸̢̟̫͆̋͂y̸̘̺̪̦̑̾ï̷̡̝̞̈́ņ̷̰̣̰̆̌͆͝g̸̭̭͚̫̅̏̓͠.̷̞͙̳͂͌͜Ț̷̓h̷̠̳̑̇͋ẽ̵̮̠̩̂̈́̔͜r̵͓̽̾̈́e̷͇̭͌̈́́ ̶͈̯͑̀̚i̷̝̼͖̋̽͜͠s̷̡͔͍͌͐̕ ̷̠̤̂̽̓͝ṋ̵̛̕o̵̡̝̼̥̓̐ẗ̵̙̻̗̘̽̈́͐h̶̻̹̲̤͆̽̍́i̷̬͝ǹ̷̢̧̫͕͋̑̄ǧ̴̤͝ ̶̣̣͙̳̋̋̇t̴͓̱͆̀̊ǫ̸̖̻̆͝ ̶̪̹͓̄̐͝ŗ̶̫̠͗̇̚͝e̸͇̺͎͆̈́́å̶̺͍͕d̸̥̹̍ ̶̖̠͝ͅh̸̟͠ͅe̴̬͙͌͂́̋r̵͕͊̀͗̇é̵̫͓̰̕,̵̨̛̼̀̀̓ ̸̛̭̖̯̈́͝s̵͙̣̩͔̾t̷̲̬̆͛̈́̆͜͜ȍ̸̡̙͕̓̊p̷̖͖̒͐̚͝ ̶̳̑̅̚͠t̷̼̩̳̕r̸͔̋̉ẏ̵̨͕̿̚͝ḯ̶̡̪̣̲̈́̈n̶͍͗͌̍͝g̴͉̽̅͠.̶̮͝Ṭ̶͔͑̀̈́̚ḧ̴̲̝̊e̸̲̭͑̃̓ṟ̴̩̭̊ę̴̜̮̟̃̅̇̓ ̵̞̮͑̈́ī̴͚̄̏s̴̛͉̣̒ ̶̼̱̻̣̓͊ṇ̷̑̕̚o̷̖̼͐̔́͜t̴̺́̈́h̴̨͓̾̀̈́í̴̗̲̟́n̴̦̞̗̲͋͑̀̎ğ̸̠͜ ̸̱͛t̵̡̪͔͛̆ô̵̻̭̲͕͐̊ ̸̫͔͈̊̕ŕ̷̘e̸̛̛̞͖͆̏͜a̸̪͇͇̗̕ḏ̵͎̗̜̓̚ ̵̛̟̖͇̔͘͠h̵͙̣̓̿͠e̵̲͎̅͜r̴͉͉̯̍ë̴́͜,̴̢̗̫̑͋̋ ̷̠̱͝s̵̜̹̝̼̒t̵͉̚ơ̷̳̻̔̂p̸̨͚̙̔̌̈͗ͅ ̷̡̫͘t̷̝̀r̸̪̿̐̐͠y̷̆̑̽͜i̵͙̰̇n̴̗͓̻̈g̵̟̣͉͑̄̓͠.̷̫̞̮̱̎̍̈́T̶̢̺̀͐͋h̸̦̞͙̓̇͂ȩ̵̗̣̠̈̿r̷̡̦͊̈͘e̸͇̘̳͍̊͆̓ ̸̪͕͖̺̃̉̅̚i̴̥͈̻͋̅s̶̫̉̄̑ ̸̣̼͈͗n̴̪̦̳̈́̈́ǒ̴̫̰̽͑t̶̩̋̀h̸̺͈͊ȉ̵͖̦̙͑ṅ̵̜̳̤̼́̆g̴̙͔͑̓̒ͅ ̶̞̀͗̾̾t̶͚̂ŏ̷̯͐ ̴͌̇͜r̴̢̟̘͐̆͆̒e̷̗͔̗̚ä̷̺̩̳͇̆̿̀d̸̲̄͌̐̾ ̶̟̳̋̐h̸̨̰̬̳͛̅̔̎e̷̡̬͙̒̎̓r̵̯̊e̸̲̘͈͇̾̾͘,̸̫̫̭̎̀̔͜ ̷̘̹̜̀͌s̶͉̰͑̍ţ̸̬̩͛̕͝ò̸͓͠p̷̲̔͋ ̸̧͚̍̑̃̚ẗ̸̤͔̞́͊̂͐r̸̡̧͙͑̾̉̍y̷̩̥̞̅i̷̩̓ṅ̴̼̞̬g̸̛̕̕͜͠.̵̪̦̽̇T̸͍̩̍̽͠͠h̴̯̖̭̟̕e̵̝̜̟̅͝r̸̠̹̅͋e̵̮̳̩͐̅ ̵̼̃̈́̅̇͜i̴̬̭̣̐̌͜s̴̹͔͇̺̃̋ ̵̭̜̻͋̋ņ̵̻͔̮̈̅͑o̶̱̼̠͂̌̌̕ţ̸̳͇͈̚h̸̡̽̅̇̽i̸̝͐̍̀n̵̟̹̬̾̕ͅǵ̷͙͑ ̶͉̲̣̐͗̕ţ̵̖͕͖́o̷̞̞͊̄̊͝ ̴̞͋̑̆r̴̹̒ẹ̶̓a̷̲͛̀̒d̸͕̗̻͝ ̸͇̖̋̐̃ẖ̵̘̦̳̂͑e̵̠͔͒͑̽͘r̶̻̱̪̙̆̌ę̶͇͇̹̅̊,̷̹̫͍̟͛͑̅̀ ̵͍̠͙̓̈́́̇s̵͖̋ț̵̛̠̀͊̾o̷̫̰̠̫̍͠p̸̧͕̟̒ ̶͈͖̽͜ẗ̵̟͙̭̟̍̄͑r̶̝̍̃͠y̸͎̱̤̼̑̾͗ȋ̴͉̓ņ̴̔̔̽͛g̸͉̼̰̐.̸̭̂͛͝T̵͎̆͛h̴̜̫̝̑̐͛͝e̵̖̗̖͋r̴̢̪͊ę̸͇̪͂̀ ̶͈̩̈́ͅi̶͖͈̖̽s̶͎͙͔͎̀ ̵͓̱̌̀ṋ̴̛̩͖̲̍͝͝o̶̰͙͌͋ͅť̴̘͖̺̓͠h̵̰͑̔͑͝i̸̘͌n̴̢͇̪͂́g̵̬̀ ̶̱͚̅t̶̨̫͇͔͠ò̸̡͊̊ ̷̛̠̻́̍͆r̷̪̹̤̀e̴̪̐a̷̙͐d̴̰͊̏́̒ ̸̢̪͖̪̅̋h̴̥̟̻̅̒ͅe̸̤̤͈̥̐̈́r̷̮̓ẻ̵͔̝͓̇͑̚,̷̬̞́͝ ̷͙̈́̉̚͜͝s̷̩̽͋t̵̪̖̆o̷̺͈̼͈̅͆͆̀p̷̧̖̩̺͂ ̷̨̮̳͇̊͛t̸̙͓͑͆r̸̢̨̛̤͙͐y̷̨̤̙͋͝i̵̡͙͎̩̕n̶͎̼̟͌g̶̣̭̿̂̓.̴̤̦̳͆T̷̠͇͈̝̿̑̂̍ḩ̸̟͚̇͝e̷̞͈̽r̵̮̜̀ȇ̷̥̲͊̆ ̷̛͚̏̐̒i̴̜͐s̶͉͓̳͊͆̇̀ ̴͔̼̝͍̉̾n̶̰͓̞̦̓o̶̧̙̜̦̔͊̕͠t̴͈̳̑̊h̷͔͈͙͂̉̄͌͜i̸̛͚̣̚n̷̡̥̤͍̊̇̀̋ĝ̸͈̦ ̸̳̤̀͑ṭ̸̢̻̈͆̓͛o̶͉͂͋̃ ̷̢͕̟̅r̵̹̽ͅè̴͓̖͙ͅǎ̷̛͖̫̱͊d̸̡͕̖̏̆̚ ̸͔̺͒h̷͚̮͗͜e̷̜̒r̶̙͑͑̓̑e̷̎ͅ,̸̧̤̗̹̉̇͠ ̶̯̼͍̀̌ş̶̨̱̃t̶̼̜̓͑ͅó̶̜̼̻p̷̫͕͕̰̄͠ ̴̨̠̹̓͂t̴̯̔̐̓r̵̫̱͝y̷̨̺̍̅̀͜i̴̖̻͑͜n̸̳̓̎͛͠g̸̢̔.̴̞͛̂T̸̥͇̹̑͜ḧ̴́̿̌͜͝ĕ̸̠ȑ̸͎̣e̵͖̳̳̰͋ ̸̡̠̪̍ǐ̶̯͍̑s̶͓̺̗͐̓̎ ̴̙̦̼̏n̵̡̫̻̜̐̑͝ó̷̪͂͂t̴̡̧̥̖̅͝h̶͇͙͊̌̽ĭ̵̜͉͖̀n̴͇͂̋͗̌ġ̷̻̖̯̈́̅ͅ ̴̡̛͓̯̻͋̅̎ț̸͖̾́ọ̵̢͉̗͐́̊̀ ̷̘͕̅͑̓r̶͕͔̃ḛ̴̢̟͇͝a̶̢͉̖͆̌d̸̲̈́̏ͅ ̷͔͙̘̂́̚ȟ̷̖̺ę̷̖͝ṙ̷͍̮͎̿e̴͙͎͂,̴̩͔̪̊̓͌̊ ̵̭̺͕̔͝s̵̢͎̻̠̏t̵͎̽̍o̵̯̚p̵͔͎̣͔̽̈́̚ ̸̨͇͖̄͠t̶̞̀͗̾ͅř̵̠̹̥̓͜y̶̜̘͊̄̎͠i̷̪̋͂ń̸̼̙̗͙̓̇̓g̶̠̎̅̔̔.̸̘̦̎̆Ṭ̷̟̫̋̕h̵̫͐̍ë̵̫́̓͊͂r̶̮̀͘͜ẻ̴͎̒̏̄ ̵̢̗̤̍̈͑̎i̴̛͕̞̓̇͜š̸̻̼̟͊̃͘ ̷̖͜͝n̵̡̲̐͜ó̵̧̱̹͊͘͠t̶̳̔ḫ̶̑̉i̷̲̎̽̐͠n̸͈̔̉͠g̵̢̠͓̼̈́̍̿ ̴̫́̌̉͜t̵͔́o̴̻̻͎͠ ̶͉̞͖̽̄͘ṟ̷̰̹̾̇̕è̶̞̖̩ạ̸̅̈́̂d̴͇̰͇̈́͋̈́ ̴̹̲͉̎̌͂h̴͖̞͔͔͐́̈́͝e̶̠̟͈̓̾̓̚r̸̹̣͓̾̉͐e̴̋̄̕ͅ,̴̮͙̠̎͛̄̄ ̵̡͓͈̫̎͝s̵̛͖̅t̴̼̱̳͝ŏ̷̡̩̼͎̿p̴̬̣͇̌͐ ̷̡̥̬̥̊t̸͎̾͛ŕ̸̢͇ÿ̸̦̠̄̃ȉ̷̙̞̤͈͋͐n̶̺̪̪̠̏ǵ̶̼̠̉̆.̸̢̩̱̹̍T̷̈́͘͜ḧ̵̜͎́͂e̷͚͇̳͚͘ŗ̶̾̈͊̓e̵̛̮̣͔̔ ̸̡̨̺͙͝ȋ̵͈̬̤̏̈́͠s̷̯̳̯̽̀̅ ̶̦̹̋̽̔ṉ̵͖̝̇̆ó̷̮̯̹t̸̛̙̑͝ḧ̴͚́̈̎̎i̶̮͈̋̂̈͜͝n̴̳̙̳̎g̵͕̝͓̑̎̍̆ ̶̗̼̜̗̉̄̃̎t̴̹̳̣͗ͅơ̵̺̘̭ ̸̙͇̮̔́̚͜r̸̦̘̰̺̐e̶̝̥͗̽͌ǎ̵̺͔͉̼̈̏d̷̨̞͈̾̐̋͝ ̵̡̜̐̆́h̵̘͆ȇ̷̝̥̳̰̇̍r̶̻͚̞̓ḙ̵̯͛,̴̡͉̥͂ ̸͖͋̔͠s̵̬̆̉t̵̝́̌͐̇o̴̟͒p̷͙̗̼͖̌͆͌ ̵̼͋t̸͙͕̬̲͂̍r̴̭̠̈́̏͂ÿ̶̤̱͍͓́í̸͈̮̍n̸̳̭͉̆́͊̕g̷̨̲͒.̷̼̗̼̠̿̇̍T̵̯̖̖̾̃̄̓h̸̗̜͇̒̋̿e̵͎̻͝r̴̜͆̒̓ḛ̵͇̇ ̸̣͋̌ì̶̼̖͌̓͘s̵̡͍͙̐͂̚͠ ̸̧̭͑̈́̕ń̶͎̉̀o̶̧̩͆̅͂ṱ̵͖̓̂h̵͉̼̐̎̈́i̶̧̹͎̹̇̈́n̵̯̻̈́̈̐͊ğ̵̹̐ ̸̢̛̼̺̤t̷͙͑̃̔͒ǫ̵̱̺͇̅ ̴̨̢͉̈́̈́͛r̷̥̬̈́ę̶̂ȁ̶͉d̶̰̾ ̵̙̪͕̭̈́h̶̗̆̏̽e̶̼͛̈́̀̓r̴̢̿̕͝è̸̡̊͌̓,̷͈̩͈̂̌̾ ̴̭̦̰̠̓̋s̵̫̗͂̈́̎͝ṱ̷͓̒o̸̖̽͗p̷͍̏̄ ̷̛̪͚̲͋̀̋ṫ̴̟̚r̸̨̎̈́͗ỳ̷̹̔i̷̪̲̳̚n̵̩̭͚̝̓̎͘g̷̮̲͎̾̎̈́̕.̵̨̨̟͉͂̇̇̚T̴͚̮̼̅̉́̕h̴̡̤̑̌ë̴͓̀̕r̴̮̰͚͂ȩ̷̦̀̈̇̽ ̶͇̊͝͝i̷̩͎͊s̵͙͑̀ ̷̝͔̝̟̕̚n̷̮͑̀̀̓ő̷̻͈͓̊̎t̶̟̏h̴̦̔̎̉͜͠i̷̡̘̺̿̚n̷̨̦̎͆̀g̷̢̟͆̋̿͌ ̸̧̧̚t̸̠̏ó̷̟̔ ̷͙̲̀̈́͝r̸̡̯͗́͆ę̴̨̺͎̄̅ȃ̸̟̫̑͊͜͜d̸̥̯̙͉̓ ̷̭̤̭̺̿͝h̸̘̰͙̓̾̃e̷̝̗̋r̷̯̟̭̃̆̽͜͝ȩ̴͈̝̺̂̎͝,̷̛̙̄̈́ ̴̣̤͇̳̅̒s̶̛̬̝̠̲͆͋͝t̸͕͍̮̓͋̄͌o̶̖̜͠p̵͎̣͂ ̶̣͍̄t̵̹̤̮̘͗́͠r̵̗͓̹̓̉͝y̵̫̞̩̿i̶̢̞̅̂̿n̵̘̬̗̒̒̒g̷͉͈͔͑.̴̘̳̋͜T̴̢͚̓̃̽ĥ̶̦̯̿͒̈́e̴̛̞͙̬͚͒͐r̵̩͍̰͕͗͗̀ḙ̸̒̄ ̶͈̽̿̓̕ỉ̷̼͖̹͝ş̶̥̝̳͌̑ ̵̡͚̝͎̆͒̔̕ñ̴̙̇͘o̴̗̎ṭ̵̫͓̝͛̿̍̿h̷̬̤̗͍͌̇i̶̡̺̐̓̇n̵̦͔͓͈̿g̴̣͆͜ͅ ̵̹̊̈͘t̷͔̹͕̙̉̓̋͠ǫ̸͊̂ ̵̖͕͌̀̇̀r̶̤̮̿̔̔e̶̢͎͔͜͝ä̸̭̜̳͍͠ḋ̷̡̦̠͗̓ ̴̟̃̃ḣ̴̝͍́͒e̶̲̮̓͋r̶̦͛̂͌̕e̵̞̯̦͊͊͝,̴̨̮̂̋ ̸̨̗̤̫̆̽͝s̷͈̘̋̃t̷̨͔́̾o̷͇̠͙̒͌p̵̟̠̓͋̀ ̶̛̮̞͌͒̕t̴̻͈͕̿̔͝r̷̖͓̋̈̏̊ỹ̶͚͕̰͔̍͑̕į̴̫̪̞̆̌́n̶̢̻̦̱̄͊͝g̸̲̤̎̓̍.̷̾͒͜T̷̡̈́̋h̸̻̏̇͌ͅȇ̷̯̜̣͛ͅȑ̴͖͆̈̂e̷̫̠͆ ̸͚̋͜ỉ̶̹̅̎s̵̹̻̔ ̶̢̨̛̻̹n̷̻̲̈́̈͆̀͜͜ớ̸͈̭̝̊̊t̵̛̝̖̽̋h̶̩̓̌̐͠i̴̞̩̺̺̓ň̶̛̘̟͔́ğ̴̨̛̥͖͑̐ ̵̡̞͇̺̓t̶͍͂̔̿ͅò̷͖ ̴̰̭̘̊͝r̸͓̰̟͋̂̈́͘ę̵̝̩̌̈ạ̵̾̔͘̚d̸͇̝͒̌ ̸̦̪̳͔̀̂͊h̸̟̬̱̄̂̏e̵͓̎̆̀r̵̞̆ȩ̸́͗̈́̉,̸͎̤͠ ̵͖̓s̴̺͂͋͊̔t̵͉́̉̚ö̴͈̗́̃p̴̲͔͓̽̓͛̕ ̶͖̂̓̕͜t̴̞̥͉̔ŗ̴̢͖̺͂̅͊͝y̶̋̃̈ͅì̷̛͍̪n̸̮͇͆g̶̛̺̼͊̋.̴̰̗̑͂̈́͘Ţ̸̘̳͕̍̌͝͝h̷̡͔̎ę̴̨̛̉r̴̛̻̻̀͐̽e̷̢̧͊̈ ̶̼̀͌͛i̷̡̾͝s̸̨̏ ̶̢͚͔̯̓n̴̯̲̮̏̔͝o̵̧̩̺̖̾̈̍͗t̶̙̉͂ḥ̴̡̙͒̀͐̌i̸̦̝̍͂ṅ̸̟͚̳̔̍g̴͔̖͓̹͒͝ ̷̡͈̮̭́̾̽͛t̷̢̧̯͋ò̵̮͓̳͌̚͝ ̴̻̠̰̾̊ŗ̸̠̈́̀͑̄e̵̱̣̪͉͆̓̌a̵̗̖̻̿̃̕͝d̴͍̠̒̒ ̴̜̻̌͗͘h̸̢̟̝̾̈́̊ë̴̠̯́̌̓͌r̸̡̳̃͐́͌e̵̟̍̉͝,̵̢͍̱͉̄̓̚ ̷̜̳̍͆͒͝s̷͇̺̯͋̋̏ͅt̵̨͚͓̜́̀o̷͇̼̮͗̋͋͝p̵̥̪͖̀͌͋͜͝ ̴͖̯͎̻́͠t̵͙̠̑͘͝r̵̨̦͓̾͂ỹ̵̼̘͚̄í̷̘̉̆͠ṋ̶̂́͝g̷̡̨̻̥̕̚.̵͉͈̏̆ͅT̵͕̏͆͝h̶̠̝͠ė̴̡̦͛r̸̹͊̒͂͊e̶͍̋ ̴̛͓̌͠͝i̵̗̖̰̽͘͝ṡ̶̯̲̬̔͊͜ ̷̣̬̞̌̊̀͜ñ̸̯͕̀̋͝ǒ̶̩̼̪͓̃̃͘t̷͔̩̹̎ḧ̸̰̪̈́̓͝i̷͔̻̓̀͛n̸͚̥͉̏͑̌̂ǧ̷̥ ̶̡̧̭̈́͋͠ṫ̶̲̫õ̴̘̮ ̷̨͉̟́ŗ̵̞̼̔͆̈́͝e̸̥̦͒̈̃a̵̰̩͆d̴̦̹̺̤́ ̷̣̿̅̓h̴̗̦̿̑̌̒è̶̺̗͜r̶̟̋̓̇̑e̵͔̭̅̌͜,̷̡͙͎͊͋͠ ̶̛̥̘̺̭̉s̴̒͂̾̒͜ẗ̴͖́̑̎ȯ̵̖͚̬̤̽p̵̩̓ ̴̘͈̽̉t̴̥̤͖̮̅͑̕ṙ̴̩͕͇͙͐y̶͛͜i̴̖͆̄̂͂n̴̳͚̠̗̔͐g̸̛̺͚̀.̷̞̾Ṱ̴͕̂h̶̛̟̤̙̙̒͒ę̷́̆̈́r̵̫̥̆e̸̬̤̯̦͂ ̴̰̫̄ȋ̵͍̫̯͂͒́š̴̼͘ ̶̱͒̄͝ñ̸̞͙̫̤͐ȏ̶̩t̷̘̖͔͛̊͜ȟ̵̡̛͠i̵̱̊̈͗̈́n̵͈͚̺̈̈́͠͠g̶̹͓͗̕ ̶̤̮͐̌t̷̞͎͕̲̀ö̵̢͚̀̚ ̷̬͓̈́́r̷̗̥̅͂̒̽e̵̢̦̓̓̕͝ã̵͇͙̤̀̚͠d̴͔͓́ ̸̱̎̋h̷͉̠͋͠e̴͇̗̓͒͂̉ṟ̸̰̓͝e̶̱͍̮̟͋̔̕,̷̜̞̼̂̋̐ ̴̡̧̲͉̃ş̶͖̝̳̾ẗ̷̟̘̀͑̑õ̵͕̳̻̙p̵̢͈̐͂͂͜͜͝ ̸̧̱̘̣̍̌̿̚t̷̬̫͎͓͛̄r̶̫̀͗̿̅ẏ̷͔̻̥̆̿͝ĩ̵̪̝̼̍ṇ̷̳͊̇̕g̸̉ͅ.̸͇̠̿̍̄̄Ṱ̵̐́͊̀h̷͇͍̩̃̀͂̕ȩ̸̡̊͘r̸̟͈̄̓̈͛ḛ̵̩͙͆̀ ̴̟͖͑̉̀ͅi̷̢̽̂̎̀s̴̙̬̲̊͒͝ ̶̩̅̏̏͛n̷̟̊̓̈́̽o̵̪͈̲̎̂͆̿t̷̺͚͋h̷̢̡̩͎̅̿̚i̵̢̦̍̽͊n̴̡̖͚͕̋͘ģ̶̐̚͠ ̷̟͉̜͈̃t̸̺͍̞͖̒͗̐ò̸̞ͅ ̷͈̟̠̋̆͐̒r̶͓̪͕̃̅̿̌ê̵͇̦͔̣a̸͖͇͂d̴̺̮͔͖̿̈́͝͝ ̸̨͂̓h̵̹͖̭́͜e̴̻͎͝r̸̝̝̋͌͝é̷̙͒̄͠,̵̯͔̤͋͆͝ ̴̔̕ͅs̵͉͎̄̈͆t̵͎͇̺́̓͆ȯ̷̬͆́̄p̶͇͇͘ ̸̳̭͗̋̈́t̸̢̕͝r̷̳̅̈̅y̵̹͎̣̐̾́͜i̴̡̡̛̖̦̿̀͌n̶̥͐̓͝g̵̥̼̚.̴̨͈̱̳͗̕͘

The entire page has been scratched out with silver, magical ink. Starswirl did some editing of his own here, there, and during the final entry (you'll see when we get there). When I demanded to know what he'd crossed out, the old stallion said he was "Tired of erasing [my] memory, so please drop this inquiry." I honestly don't know what to think about that, so I stopped asking that question. Any chance I could ask you to double check my brain later?

I didn’t quite know what to say. Poor Swirly.

“But what about your kin?” he asked, “How mighty is the house Lulamoon to where you could cast such a mighty spell?”

“Spell?” I asked reflexively. Remember, reflexes of a Tiger.

“The… teleportation which brought you here? You said you came from someplace called Equestria.”

Shoot, I thought. I wish I’d been a little more discreet before. But I couldn’t just say nothing. Old traveler’s code says, a story for a story. And after he just sort of opened up like that, I had to.

“Well,” Trixie said this a few times to buy time to stall, “Back home I live in a magical tree that was grown from a crystal! And I work at a school.”

All technically true. As you know.

“A magic school!?” I swear he had stars in his eyes.

Stars. Swirly. That rings a bell. Gotta check with Starlight when I get back.

“A school of Friendship,” I corrected, “But since friendship is magic…”

“That’s not magic!” he cut the Great and Powerful Trixie off, “There’s hardly any fire or lighting! You need that for real magic!”

Trixe huffed at that little remark, but since Swirly was just a kid, she decided not to hold it against him much.

Especially since his next question was, “What about your family?”

“What about them?”

“How fair they? Your folk, your kin? I only have my mother and father, plus my brothers Starmane and Pen Stroke now this past year. Not since winter took my sister.”

Yeah, I know. He’s like, ten or something. Trixie knows she wasn't much older when her mother--

Sorry, he just corrected me. Twelve. He’s twelve. But he’s also good at guilting me without knowing it. Little smarty-squirt.

“Trixie’s mother ~~died~~ passed away when she was very small,” I said. “My father was never around, and ran away to Las Pegasus at the same time.”

Joking aside, part of the reason Trixie seems to have left CSGU was that her grades were steadily dropping during her last quarter there (prior to the firework instance) as her mother's health declined. Records indicate she ran away from home after her mother's passing and her expulsion, rather than face living in Canterlot Orphanage.

Agents of the Crown have made inquiries on our behalf (thank Bon Bon and Octavia for me!) that seem to indicate Jack Pot, a Las Pegasus resident and travelling magician, is the most likely candidate for being Trixie's father. There's is a strong familial resemblance, both in coloration and profession, as well as the fact that Trixie was arrested two years ago by the LP Police Department for savagely beating the stage magician during a performance. No charges were filed. Yeesh.

“Las Pegasus?” Swirly asked, and once again I found myself mentally facehoofing. I have to stop bringing up the future around Swirly.

But he kept on going, “Is your father a pegasus?”

I don’t like talking about my dad, but I figured it couldn’t hurt this once.

“No, he’s a unicorn.”

This definitely confused him, “But the pegasi and the unicorns hate each other. There was a war only a few years ago. My dad served in the earth-militia.”

I stopped. We’d arrived at the seamstress-place, but it was what Swirly said that really made me stop in the street. Ponies fighting ponies.

Ponies. Fighting. Ponies.

I remember the Hearth’s Warming story, of course, who doesn’t (in the future, I mean)? But I guess I never really thought about what it meant that all three tribes came together under the Fire of Friendship back then.

Swirly told me a little about the fighting. Then, and later that night. I never really thought about how even kids back ~~then~~ right now have to live through these kinds of things. He’s such a little sweetheart, but then he can just casually talk about ponies killing each other.

Trixie appreciates that old story a lot more now. I tried to explain to Swirly how, where I was from, all ponies lived together peacefully.

It's strange to think back to that time and realize how different things were. Ponies had to face death and starvation regularly in a way that we can't really conceive of anymore.

I don’t think he quite believes me. But I had to see the seamstresses, so I left it there.

If I’d seen an off-color Rarity working at the seamstress’s hall, I think I would have screamed and started begging Luna to rescue me from the coma.

As it turned out, Ribbon had beaten me and Swirly there

Sorry. Swirly and I. Swirly is a know-it-all NERD who wants me to write correctly, even though he probably can’t read modern Ponish.

Apparently, he can. So now I gotta hide this thing whenever he’s snooping. Great.

I really hate Trixie. Not only does she get to hear real Old Ponish accents, but she gets to experience written Old Ponish, and she didn't record any of it for us. I hate her so much.

Ribbon, as it turns out, is just as interested in magic as Sparkleshine, but her talents lend themselves more towards fashion and alchemy, according to her. Which, as she explained to me, is how Hyneighria became famous for colored clothing.

Also known as Ribbon Wishes in the historical and mythological record. She seems quite feisty in Trixie's account, but all the tales and stories that came down to present day paint her as a sort of mother-figure of the early Equestrians, often invoked by expecting mothers and angry ones who just caught their foals sneaking extra snacks at night. Everypony remembers the old rhyme meant to shame misbehaving foals: Mother Ribbon, Mother Ribbon / Isn't it shameful that love's a given?

Apparently, Trixie’s old magician cape and hat’s shade of purple is considered almost impossible, even with alchemy, magic, and dyes to create. Dark blue, though, is easy, Ribbon tells me. So after she took my measurements, she told me she could make it blue with any highlights I wanted. A little disappointing, but them's the breaks. I figured I could experiment with magic later, anyway.

She liked my sketches of what I wanted in terms of stars. And she really liked my stitch-work. She called it unique.

I kinda like Ribbon. She’s bubbly, but not like Sparkleshine. She reminds me of Starlight, actually. She gets this gleam in her eye whenever magic comes up, just like Starlight, and Swirly for that matter. Very excitable. Best of all, she could whip up some straight-jackets! I could perform a few of my world-famous escape tricks for the town!

Such escape tricks include straight-jackets, water-traps, a bricked-up shed, and the occasional angry mob, such as when that whole Ursa Minor thing happened.

Once she’d taken my order, Ribbon had to get back to work, so I decided to get going and get the local grocer to get my supplies. Food could wait, but paint and wood and curtains and such stuff was necessary for my show, which I did promise these ponies.

On the way, Swirly apparently hadn’t stopped thinking about Equestria, since he began to elaborate on exactly why all three tribes couldn’t work as one nation.

*following section illegible, coffee stains*

“- unicorns and earth ponies?”

“It’s not like we can’t work together,” Swirly said, “But to say that all three tribes could live together under the same system-“

*following section illegible, coffee stains*

Merry Weather came around with coffee again. I’m really regretting teaching her how to make that stuff.

Did I mention how much I hate Trixie? Because right now, I want to have some tea just to spite her in spirit. A young Starswirl, sharing political philosophy? And coffee stains stole it away from us? Hate. Hate. Hate.

Swirly and I were arguing so much that, well, Trixie can never be blindsided, but she will admit to being distracted enough by the little shrimp that she couldn’t get out of the way before a bright red pegasus smashed into her from out of nowhere.

I went flying, metaphorically. Just me and this pegasus who kept screaming ‘look out’ as we rolled down the dirt street. Once I got back up to my hooves, coughing up a small hill’s worth of mud I’d swallowed during the crash, I almost lost my cool and shouted at that stupid Rainbow Dash.

Which was when I got a good look at the mare before me. I don’t know what is with Hyneighria, but half of these ponies are dead-ringers for all my friends back in Ponyville! And this one was no exception! It was almost exactly Rainbow Dash, shaggy mane and all, just with a bright-red coat. Her mane was a rainbow still, just one that ran from dark blue to white (which still counts!).

“Sorry about that!” the pegasus apologized as she hopped back up. She had on a large burlap sack that had been strapped tight to her, and I could hear a bunch of jangling sounds from it, like she'd dumped a whole kitchen drawer full of spoons in it.

“Morning, Firefly!” Swirly greeted her warmly.

Firefly seemed to notice him, and I almost balked at how Dash the look she gave was. Like if you tried to explain advanced thaumological equations to Applejack.

Remembered in myth and legend as Dux Firefly, one of the legendary founders of Cloudsdale, as well as the first (alleged) pegasus to perform the Sonic Rainboom. As with your own royal self, records fail to indicate if Firefly was an ancestor of Rainbow Dash, but from reading ahead, Trixie might actually provide us a concrete answer to that question. But you'll have to keep reading to find it.

“Uh, hey Star,” she said, “Who’s the new-girl?”

“She’s the Great and Powerful Trixie!” he informed her, to my great and powerful pleasure, “She’s a real wizard!”

Firefly raised an eyebrow at me, and Trixie will admit that it felt like getting the third degree from a guardpony who’s just jealous that they didn’t get a comp’d ticket to the show. I know what it’s like to have an inquiring, judgefull* eye on oneself.

I'm not here to correct Trixie's spelling.

“Yeah, okay,” Firefly finally said, then held out a wing to shake, “Sorry about crashing into ya like that. Caught a downdraft wrong and came down hard.”

“No worries,” I decided to be gracious, despite the way my withers ached from the crash, “Trixie knows what that’s like.”

“Flying?”

“Crashing,” I said, laughing a little, “some performances can get rough.”

“So, you’re a performing wizard? That’s...” Firefly didn’t seem to know what to say. I suspect somepony dropped her as a foal.

“Cool?” I offered.

“Why would it be cold?”

“No,” I said, still forgetting not to do what I was about to do, “Cool as in awesome.”

Firefly’s eyes lit up.

I did it again.

“Like, inspiring awe? Awesome…” she whispered to herself, “I like that word.”

What else could I say? “Uh, you’re welcome.”

Firefly thanked me for the new word (I’m terrible as a time traveler) and was about to take off again when Swirly said, “Wait! We were coming to see you!”

“We were?” I asked the little colt.

“Firefly runs the grocer here,” Swirly nodded.

Said grocer had apparently been on a return trip for supplies when she decided to practice some aerial maneuvers (seriously! Wake me up, Princess Luna!) and lost control.

This day was so weird.

Well, colored me surprised, but Firefly had a pretty large and varied stock. I will admit, I’d written off Hyneighria at first as being in the sticks, but their storehouse, which I’d assumed was just a big barn someone put inside the city walls, had everything I could have ever needed, except for the wagon (but I’ll get to that).

I made sure to ask Firefly about canvas, bags, rope, basic tools, smoke powder (ingredients, anyway), utensils, flasks, lanterns, butter, cloth, some canned rations, etc etc. And while the mare seemed to keep up with what I was saying, I couldn’t help but think half of what I said had simply flown over her head. But, a few minutes later, she had basically everything set up for me.

The Guild of Equestrian Magicians (of which Trixie is a longstanding member) holds a monopoly on the stage-magician's profession in Equestria, so it's no surprise Trixie would keep their secrets even here. Talking with Starlight Glimmer, it sounds like Trixie may be using physical spell components as a shortcut in her spell-casting. Trixie's renowned impatience is probably the only reason she'd need such a shortcut considering her talent in some areas of magical knowledge.

“Don’t know what tin will do ya, unless you’re a tinker,” she said as she dropped a couple tin plates on the counter in front of me.

Tinkers were an itinerant profession in Pre-Classical Equestria known for doing odd jobs, and especially for doing repair work for other trades, mostly involving metal like tin. Hence, tinkers.

I sighed, and tried to speak slowly for her benefit, “Trixie said tin rations. Like, some beans? Or canned corn?”

“Silly,” she shook her pseudo-rainbow mane, “You can’t eat tin! It’d hurt your teeth!”

So, I didn’t realize they didn’t have canned goods yet. That was not ideal. Any traveling pony will tell you that canned anything is worth its weight in gold when you’re on the road and there’s not enough grass to eat.

“Alright,” I rubbed my head and tried to think of something else, “What do ponies around here normally pack to eat on long journeys?”

“Depends. How long are ya looking to travel?”

I had asked Swirly about other towns the night before, but from what I could gather, this place that would become Equestria was mostly scattered farmsteads and a few minor towns. The maps in Sparkleshine’s library were almost useless for anything except broad-strokes directions.

“I’m a traveler,” I said, “So I guess I never stop traveling… but the next place on my itinerary looks like Gallopoli. How far’s that?”

Gallopoli is an ancient city, currently known as Baltimare to modern Equestrians. Though now a hub of trade, back in this time Gallopoli is better known as a farming community that just so happens to have a port and ships. It was the sight of an ancient battle of some sort (few first-hoof records survived), from where we get the famous Equestrian folk song, The Star Spangled Mare.

I am terrified to find out if Trixie had anything to do with that.

Firefly smirked at me, actually smirked!

“Well, that depends,” she said, leaning on the table she used to lay out all the tools and food I was buying from her. “Most pegasi can get there in a day or so. If you’re hoofing it, Gallopoli’s closer to a week away.”

“Too bad there’s no train,” Trixie may have tried muttering under her breath, but years of stage-whispers and voice-projecting has given Trixie an unparalleled stage-presence, so Firefly heard what I said.

“Wagon trains would be even slower, to be honest,” she shook her head, then flexed her wings in front of me again, “Too bad you don’t have these!”

Now, I will admit that, once upon a time, in a Ponyville far, far away, I’d once had to deal with a heckler that Firefly was reminding me sorely of. An arrogant little pegasus named Rainbow Dash who didn’t seem to understand what performer’s do. She was the one who led her friends in heckling my show ~~all those years ago in the future~~ whenever.

But that was years ago. And I consider Dashie to be a very close friend of mine now. Even a Great and Powerful friend, on a good day. So, having her stupid ~~doppler dipp dopplen~~ Firefly here acting so smug and so arrogant really rubbed my horn the wrong way.

“So,” I said, in spite of a little bit of Starlight screaming in my head to not, “You think you’re the fastest pegasus around?”

“Around?” Firefly scowled, “Nah. I’m the fastest thing of all time! Trust me, I can get from here to the Canterhorn and back in half a day.”

Good to know it’s always been called Canterhorn. Nopony seems to have heard of Canterlot, however.

Canterlot shouldn't be founded until the Unicorn Separatist Movement some two-hundred years after Trixie's journeys. At least, that's how the story traditionally goes. It remained a backwater mountain-fortress for centuries until Celestia made it the seat of government following the Nightmare Moon Incident, mostly due to its central location and lack of painful history for her, no doubt.

“That might sound impressive,” I checked out my hooves, just to sell how bored of her nonsense I was, “But if you can’t even make a Sonic Rainboom, you can’t really call yourself the fastest.”

For the record, Starlight, I'm so, so sorry I said that. And, Rainbow Dash, if you ever find this, and you can get somepony to read it to you, know that Trixie is sorry for basically everything. Firefly's eyes lit up like the Summer Sun Celebration, and she started salivating. I really had no choice but to tell her about the Rainboom at that point. Which wasn't easy, since Dash never showed me how she did it, flying not being my specialty.

I suppose my explanation must have made sense, since she took off at that point to practice it. And for the rest of the day, I could hear her trying to break the ~~light-spec~~ light speed barrier. But, Swirly and I had one more errand to run, so we got going.

See, as Trixie said before, the main thing you need as a true wandering showpony is a wagon. It's not just a home, or a means of travel. I once met a pirate named Blackhoof down in Tierra Del Potro who said it best. To paraphrase: "A wagon means being Free." So, I needed a wagon. Ipso facto, dulce et decorum est.

I don't think she knows what that means.

"Well, we don't have much call for building new wagons hereabouts," Swirly pondered when I asked about them, "But I assume the Peach family will be your best chance..."

He paused, and we both watched Firefly crash through somepony's thatch roof trying to do her own Rainboom.

"That won't be a problem," I assured the lad, "Trixie still has most of her gold."

But Swirly proved that it doesn't take a purple princess to be a killjoy. "It may not be a question of price, but of material. The Peaches may simply not have a spare wagon built."

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. That's what I should have said. Would have been a good thing to say. Instead, I sputtered something out, not really responding to Swirly. This was because, in a way very typical of this entire crazy town, I'd just spotted a pink Applejack walking down the street.

I admit, in hindsight, I could have handled it better.

"Applejack!?"

The pink Apple pony saw me, and right away I could tell she was scared. Many are, rightfully, intimidated by the Great and Powerful Trixie, so I know what I'm talking about when I say she had a look in her eyes. She looked about nervously, like I'd just called her up as a volunteer for the sawing-in-half trick.

Not-Applejack then pulled a lasso from her mane, I kid you not, and she tied me up! Me! And, just like that, Trixie ~~found herself getting dragged into the nearest alleyway~~

Trixie graciously followed Not-Applejack into the nearest alleyway, not that I had much of a choice. She was monstrously strong, as all earth ponies are, and Swirly kept telling me not to rile up Peachy.

So, now I had a name to the all-too-familiar-face.

Peachy Peaches. Surprisingly, there's a ton of info on her in the historical record. Zap Apple and Petrification "Petra" Dendrite Pie, of all ponies, recently compiled an exhaustive list of Apple and Pie relatives throughout both families' extensive histories. I think you were made aware of a common ancestor of theirs by the name of Applesauce Apple, but that was only one of the more recent shared relations. Turns out the Pies and Apples have been criss-crossing genes since, well, Peachy Peach. I'd make an inbred joke, but that'd be crass.

Peachy, and her five children, formed the basis of the Apple, Pie, Peach, Pear, and Cake families, incidentally.

"How?" was the first thing she asked me, once we were out of sight.

Trixie will also admit to being nervous. She's met one too many ponies in dark alleyways not to know how these things usually went. And as Trixie was wrapped up in rope this time as well, she was already hard at work trying to work her way out of her constrictors.

But, in the meantime, I had to play along.

"How, what?"

"How'd you know?" Peachy glared at me with her bulbous, blue eyes (which, now that I'm not directly under them, sort of reminded me of Pinkie Pie's), "Sweet Tooth and Bumblebee were the only ones at the wedding!!"

And there it was. This Peachy had eloped with somepony.

"She's a Great and Powerful wizard!" Swirly announced, "She could probably tell just by looking at you."

I love that kid. If I ever swing back this way

*scribbled in the margins*
For the love of Celestia, Starlight, you better get me out of here before then or I will have kids just so there's a line of Lulamoons throughout time looking to kick your flank when you show up!

Now, you and I both know she got back, but wouldn't that have been amazing to see?

If I ever swing back this way, I'll have to teach him some tricks.

"Oh really?" Peachy narrowed her eyes at me, suspicious-like, "If you know so much, then what am I thinking about?"

Trixie would normally be amazing at cold readings. It draws crowds like Changelings to a faulty lamppost. But just then, with my back against a wall and a pair of hooves holding me by the scruff of my neck, I wasn't feeling it.

"A-apples?" I choked out. Really, earth ponies need to learn how to not strangle unicorns they're accosting.

Peachy's eyes did something then that I've only seen Pinkie Pie do, and Derpy Hooves that one time she got hit by an out-of-control wagon that, for legal reasons, I will state was not mine. Her eyes nearly popped out of her skull, looked in different directions from each other, and got all glassy-looking. When Pinkie did it, it was just a Pinkie Thing.

This was downright weird. Didn't Trixie hear about Applejack and Pinkie being related once?

"You really are a wizard!" her eyes lit up like stars.

Her star-struck gaze was most appropriately timed, for it was at that moment I had managed to dislocate my forehooves, giving me a bit of slack, and causing the ropes to simply fall away from me. Trixie even managed to stick the landing, allowing her hooves to ~~imperc~~ unnoticed-ally snap back into place. Sure, there'd be swelling later, but at least I didn't break them this time.

Hospital records from Manehattan would attest to Trixie trying, and failing, to do this many times. Apparently, her first show in Ponyville was a comeback tour as well, after she managed to dislocate her hips and withers trying to get out of a safe. So, in hindsight, getting heckled by your friends on her first day out of a full hoof-and-horn cast probably didn't do her any favors.

~~Now,~~ that ~~bit of totally intentionally-planned~~

Fine. Swirly says I didn't plan that. Little runt. He's gonna drive some mare crazy one day, the way he nags.

~~Anyway, where was I?~~ Why did Trixie write down that question?

Peachy was suitably impressed with my rope-skills, and the fact that I was a great and powerful wizard. It was easy enough to get her to back off then, and she even apologized for roughing me up.

"I'm awfully sorry about that," she said, "It's just... it's always been a bit of a prickly situation with my pa."

She half-turned, and showed me her flank, which, oddly enough, had an apple Cutie Mark. Five of them, to be exact.

Peachy was in her own world for a moment, then said, "It was a disgrace to the Peach family, since our greatest rivals were the Apples from the other side of the village. But..." her eyes went all lovey-dovey just then, "Then Malus Apple came into my life... and I couldn't imagine living without him. We've been planning on telling my folks for a while, but..."

"Say no more!" said Trixie, quickly spooling up the forgotten rope with a spell, "I, the Great and Powerful Trixie, have seen this sort of thing before. And I would never think to reveal another's secrets."

Which was true. Magicians never shared their secrets, except for once a month at the spa with Rarity. But, she was further sworn to secrecy, so that's fine.

But Peachy's eyes narrowed towards me. "I hate to ask... but I need ya to promise me ya'll never speak a word of this."

"Isn't what I said enough...?"

"PROMISE!"

Pinkie Pie or Applejack. I'm not sure whose ancestor Peachy is now. But she's scary. Scary enough that I even went ahead and made a Pinkie Promise right then and there.

"Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye," I solemnly repeated, even doing the silly motions with the promise.

"Eh, what's that?" Peachy asked.

Trixie shrugged, and said, "Oh, it's an ancient wizard's promise. It's very important. So important, that I could never break it. My lips are sealed, forever."

Peachy seemed to like that explanation. Her mood improved instantly, and the alleyway took on a far less foreboding feeling than it had before.

Oddly, I could have sworn I almost heard Pinkie Pie's voice saying 'For-EVER' somewhere nearby. Spooked me good until Swirly pointed out Firefly was still zooming about above us, trying to master the Rainboom. Probably just wind, I guess.

There isn't much to tell about Peachy after that. She's like Applejack with a helping of sugar on the side. A very sweet mare. She was even willing to help Trixie out with her wagon issues, so score! Trouble was, it would cost most of Trixie's bits. Wagons are really expensive, even here. But, it was a necessary thing, so I went ahead and promised the payment.

Hopefully, I'd make some of that back in performances here. I was down to about ten bits.

Sparkleshine had been fished down from her roof by the time Swirly and I got back, so after a quick evening meal with her and Swirly's folks, I decided to prep for my show before heading to bed. Guild rules prevent Trixie from remarking upon the specifics, but I did find a bit of time to teach Swirly how to

*half a page has been ripped out here*

Never again. Swirly likes fire too much to learn sleight of hoof.

Day 6

Not much happened. Just helped Peachy and Sparkleshine learn more about plumbing and outhouses. Page Turner and Swirly were horrified to learn about toilet paper. Something about 'desecrating a medium of knowledge' or something, blah blah blah, whatever.

Point is, nothing happened. At all. Nothing.

BULL. I called shenanigans as soon as I saw this bit, and I was right on the money. Starswirl was more than happy to fill me in on the juicy deets, as my kids say.

From the Desk of Starswirl, the Bearded

As much as I don't care to keep secrets from my wife, let it not be said that I don't know how egotistical she can get. And so, in the interest of proving her claims and showing the world what an amazing mare she really is, I shall humbly relate to you, Your Majesty, the events of that day. The day that Trixie Lulamoon invented the Outhouse. Once this report goes out, and she gets the recognition she deserves, this will be a humorous way to pony-ize my Trixie.

Now, Hyneighria was not a large city. We were a fairly small town back in those days, and so there wasn't really a need for a large-scale plumbing and sewage system. We had simple drainage canals cut into the roads, and there were plans to build a cistern. But, Trixie brought a lot of innovations to our town that I suppose would have either taken years to develop, or were straight from the future. Now, the present, as it were.

She began with a review of our systems, and I will admit, even then we were impressed with how much she actually knew about such systems. Now I am aware she briefly lived in the vast, underground sewer-city beneath Ponyland, Oregano Country, during her 'wandering' phase, but back then, I was astonished by her knowledge. I suspected she wasn't as great and powerful a mage as she claimed, but her ingenuity won me over. Not that I had much say in things, being a colt at the time. But Mayor Sparkleshine appreciated the information, especially that of hygiene.

It was the Pre-Classical Era. We didn't have paper or antimicrobial soap. Give me a break here.

But that wasn't what you wanted to hear. No, what you and any future readers of this account would love to hear about is how Trixie went out, into the Apple and Peach fields, and actually tried to show how we could make better drainages and outhouses. The Outhouse was a truly marvelous innovation at the time for us townsponies, and I would caution making fun of such an important improvement to health and saftey.

Sure, Trixie might have fallen into the various sewage pits she was constructing and helping to construct. She might have even fallen into the used drainages and canals over a dozen times. There was even a time she fell into a drainage, tried to climb out, and then fell in again.

I'll admit. It was funnier than I'll ever let her know. Peachy and Ribbon were howling with laughter, and even Bowtie had some fun at her expense. But we all appreciated her efforts, and she likely caused a revolution in hygiene that saved lives throughout Equestria in the following centuries.

So, there it is. My Trixie is the reason nopony dies of infection when they get a little cut these days. You're welcome.

Day 7

Trixie was very proud of her first performance in another timeline. Or, era. Whatever. She was very proud, regardless.

But it could have all turned out so much worse had I not realized my mistake right when I got up out of bed that morning. I had procured enough material for my spells, fireworks, and other tricks. I had costumes and a stage all set up (courtesy of Sparkleshine allowing me to use the front of town hall).

What I had completely forgotten about, however, was getting an Assistant for the show!

*page stained by coffee*

Assistant at hoof, Swirly and I raced for the stage, and our destiny!

Swirly is concerned Trixie is overblowing her performance. ~~Little does he know that Trixie's shows~~ always ~~blow!~~

Trixie planned to perform during the lunch hour rush, so as many ponies as possible could see her great and powerful magnificence on display. Plus, crowds are easier to mess around with when they're bigger. Something my old CSGU Professor Candy Crush always used to say was that ponies have a herd mentality that makes them easier to dupe when there's a bunch of them.

Kinda like when Cozy Glow took over the school and almost destroyed the world that one time. Again, not blaming Sparkle, despite it being under her watch at the time, but just saying.

So, we were just about to set up, when suddenly

*page water-damaged beyond legibility*

Yeah, sorry about the damages here. In my defense, two-thousand year old water stains are a nag to get out.

Once that was taken care of, and Peachy could sit with her hubby in public next to the rest of the Apples and Peaches, Trixie was finally ready to put on her show, now with a newly appreciative audience. My hat and cape were ready, courtesy of Ribbon Wishes, and Sparkleshine had, admittedly, done a grand job organizing the stage decorations we'd talked about. All that we needed now, was a little magic!

Naturally, I started with a bang! Literally. The powder in this time may not be quite the same as back home, but I was able to get it to work with my firework spells, so I had a bright blue smoke cloud set up right at the beginning, with just the right amount of OOMF, you know?

I don't know why I asked you that, journal. You can't answer.

Trixie is off-track. ~~And apparently lonely enough to write all this in her journal~~

That bit of razzle-dazzle clearly ~~dazzled~~ had the crowd excited. They'd probably never seen fireworks before, or at least ones as Great and Powerful as Trixie's.

Again, just to point out, Trixie's fireworks are apparently very famous amongst the magician community.

Too bad they wouldn't be invented, normally, for another six centuries. And about a continent away.

I went through some of my best routines. Some sleight of hoof with what passed for playing cards around here got the kiddies to come up close to the stage. Get the kids, and you've got their parents' wallets. That's what Grey Prancer always said, and he never went hungry. I followed that up with some acrobatics, using teleportation and smoke to show off how quick and impossibly fast I could be, at least when nopony was looking where I didn't want them to.

Misdirection! Another one of Trixie's Great and Powerful tricks!

The show was going well, though that didn't surprise me at all. Trixie knew she was a marvel of a magical mare. It was gratifying, all the same, to have even this little town recognize that fact. There was applause! There was cheering!

But then, instead of the clatter of bits on the stage, there was screaming.

I could see some sort of commotion going on near the town's main gate. At first, Trixie was worried that an angry mob had formed again, but that soon proved not to be the case. For one thing, I almost recognized the loudest screaming of them all.

That donkey, Bray, was racing up the road towards the center of town, shouting for help, and right on his hooves looked to be trouble. Behind him were four huge pigs, or boars, or whatever. Bigger than any I'd ever seen, even bigger than that one prize-winning pig Applejack raised last year for the big rodeo in Appleloosa.

Trixie apparently had some sort of adventure with your friend Applejack about a week after the whole Terrible Trio thing. Sounds like they had a rough time of it, as Rainbow Dash described it. Lots of calamity and stampeding pigs. And then they learned that the real giant pigs, were the friends they made along the way.

Or, it was something about respecting the special talents of ponies you don't otherwise like or get along with. You'd have to ask one of them about it if you didn't get a friendship letter.

Worse! These didn't look like regular giant pigs. They were wearing armor of some kind, and had axes hooked onto their tusks!

"Help! Help!" Bray was screaming, guardponies scattering as the warpigs slammed into them. I watched as Bowtie came thundering in after them, but it was clear this wasn't a good situation. I've seen things like this before (Manehattan, Celestia 1111, the Tartarus Alicorn gang, who I had hired as private security for my show, decided to start a riot. And this was looking about the same), and I wasn't happy to see it again.

Luckily, my show was only half over. And ~~nopony~~ nopig was going to interrupt my show!

Alright, Trixie won't sugarcoat it. I talk a good game, but I know where my real talents lie. And fighting four burly boars wasn't that. Never telling Swirly this, but I was just about to teleport backstage and make a run for it when I realized Sparkleshine was stepping in front of those monsters, and her horn was projecting a shield spell.

Why is that important? I hear you ask, journal. Well, because, as I've established, these ponies are backwards. And, Trixie, despite being a showmare, is still the most powerful mage around at the moment. ~~And the most knowledgeable. And the best looking. And the smartest. And~~

Point is, Trixie remembers her Spell Combat courses from CSGU. Professor Snake may have been a gloomy guss, but he knew his stuff, and he was one of the only teachers I could stand. So, it was obvious to me that Sparkleshine was in trouble, with her magic shield barely measuring at a paltry second-level. First level shields help manage light rain and weather, or at least keeping it out of your eyes while traveling. At second level, you could stop a tenneighs ball.

Four murderous thugs, each the size of Big Mac? That wasn't happening.

Like I said before, I can almost tolerate Princess Sparkle at the best of times. But without her, I know my life would be miserable. How else would I have met Starlight? I suppose I owed her this one. And by 'this one', I meant, 'making sure she was born'.

Trixe snatched up some rope in her magic. She was going to impress everypony with a cut-rope-loop later on, but that would have to be postponed. She leapt into action, and sent the rope snaking down through the crowd.

I had the rope whip its way around the legs of the first pig, tripping him up, and sending the brute skidding to a halt on his chinny-chin-chin. That slowed the other three down, who saw their companion drop, and glared up at me.

"Ha!" I tried to laugh, but it came out as a bit of a cry, "You dare to intrude upon the performance of the Great and Powerful Trixie!? How un-neigh-borly of you!"

The crowd ate that one up. Despite more than a few ponies looking worried or scared, Trixie knows how a good laugh can take the fright out of anything.

"Grrr!" one of the pigs snarled in my direction, then slapped his companions and shouted, "Get that wizard!"

Wizard. I love hearing that.

I had a lot less love for the pig who reached my stage first. This big old brute just cracked the front of the stage with his tusk-axe, and shook the whole thing half to pieces. Even with shaking me up as well, I finally got a good look at these ambush-hooligans. Old chain mail armor, like you'd see at one of those Re-enactment Fairs, wrapped around a creature that honestly smelled like you'd expect a four-hundred pound pig to smell after running a few miles under a hot sun.

~~And those eyes~~

Creepy eyes, and familiar. Yellow eyes, with red irises.

I barely met the guy, and I could already tell Discord had something to say about all this. Creep just said 'Spoilers' and turned my hat into a piranha. Jerk.

The pig started churning up the stage, literally ripping it into bits and pieces, like he was a shark carving through water! ~~Trixie~~

I was scared. So scared. The last time I'd done something that stupid and dangerous, I at least had Starlight to get me out of danger afterward. This was something else. And, I'm not proud to admit something. I

*Trixie has scribbled over the next section, apparently drawing several pigs in armor, badly*

I leaked. I was so scared that I mana-leaked. I haven't done something like that since foalhood. Even the ursa didn't scare me like watching that pig cut through wood like water.

You probably don't need reminding about Mana-Leaks, being a unicorn, but take it from somepony who had a unicorn foal and didn't have a clue about it, it's scary, and upsetting. Both of my foals are older now, but Zaldia had that problem real bad growing up. Me being a pegasus, and Cab being an earth pony, we really didn't know how to help her.

Heh. Another weird similarity between me and Dash, huh?

But, as it turns out, it was all a part of Trixie's Master Plan! My horn sparked, ever so slightly, the sign of an immature unicorn foal trying magic for the first time, unable to control her mana flow. But, this was all Misdirection!

My little mana spark just so happened to not be a failed magical blast at all, but rather fell down beneath the stage floorboards on purpose. The pig laughed, and kept up his charge, completely unaware of the cache of explosive spell-material stashed right below his hooves.

The stage vaporized in a wave of flashing blues and greens and purples! The sound was incredible! I'm absolutely sure I would have got tinnitus from that if it weren't for the Bell incident (ask Starlight, only witness). Trixie only just avoided going skyward with the pig, teleporting out at the last possible second. I grabbed Swirly, who was trying to drag one of the escape jackets out to me when the whole ordeal sprang up, and managed to clear half the town square.

Sure, I reappeared about ten feet up and landed in a chicken coop. But it was still a successful operation.

"Run!" I could barely make out through the reverberating sound of that firework explosion and shrieking, panicked chickens, "She's a real wizard!!!"

Oop. Hang on.

*the whole page is covered in coffee stains*

Gotcha that time, Merry!

Maybe Trixie shouldn't gloat about giving Derpy's great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother a caffeine addiction.

So, there I was, lying in a broken chicken coop, my new hat and cape covered in straw, smashed eggs, and probably poop. The whole stage, and probably most of my props and equipment were either dust, or sailing through lower orbit with

Ha! I just got it! I made a pig fly!!!

Anyway, Swirly was hugging me and trying to pick me up, when Trixie had a sudden grip of panic. This is a natural thing for anypony who's seen so many other ponies crowd around them before. Last time, had it not been for my quick thinking, tiger-like reflexes, and a good right hoof, I might have had to give out a refund!

This time though, all the village ponies were making a strange sound. It sounded like cheering, but the show was a disaster, as far as I was aware.

The concussion prevented Trixie from fighting back or teleporting away when they laid their hooves upon me. But then, instead of tossing me out of town, they started cheering again. It was so surreal that it took me a few moments to realize what was happening.

And just like that, Trixie was surrounded by all those familiar-but-not-familiar faces.

"You were amazing!" Ribbon was at my side as the crowd set me down, "You were like 'Haha! You'll never best me, villains!' and then you were like, ZAP! Ka-POW!"

Sparkleshine was (annoyingly) also smiling, "I've never seen magic like that! How'd you get past Sew Crates' Paradox with the rope? That sort of fibrous material shouldn't..."

Bowtie slapped me across the back just a little too hard right then, and Trixie will not lie: she almost threw up a little.

"Such sorcery!" he said once he had picked me up again, "You wouldn't happen to be looking to join the guard sometime, would you?"

It was all so disorientating. It took everything I had to shake the cobwebs loose and get my bearings straight.

"What just happened?" was all I could think to say. "Who were those pigs? What were they doing here? Why did they interrupt my show!?"

The whole crowd, a moment ago jubilant and praising me, fell into utter silence. Trixie checked her ears again, just to make sure it wasn't the tinnitus.

"Wow," ~~Rainbo~~ Firefly stage-whispered next to me, "She really isn't from around here."

"Of course not!" Swirly stepped up, shooting me a look I'm still not sure what it was. "Trixie is a Wizard of the highest caliber! She can make books out of magic...!"

I think Sparkleshine started drooling at that one.

"... She can turn bits of dust and flour into exploding magical powders! And she's seen things nopony else would believe! The Great and Powerful Trixie has even been to a place where ponies of every tribe work together!"

"Ya'll saw how she mended my family's strife," said Peachy, nuzzling quite close to Mal Apple on the edge of the crowd, "She knew about me and Mal before I ever spoke to her, using her mystical powers!"

Still can't believe we lost that passage. Gotta remember to ask either her or Starswirl about what happened.

I was blushing somewhat by this point. I mean, Trixie knows she's great, and all. But it's not everyday that she meets ponies who really see her in the same way. Ponyville's the closest I've ever come to this level of fame and appreciation, and even then I had to wallow in shame and obscurity for a long, long time before then.

I somewhat earned my poor reputation there, of course. But here? No Ursa Major story and no idiots to misinterpret. No neighsayers heckling my show and forcing me to put them in their place.

Okay. Pig monster attack. But who's counting?

"You actually don't know," Firefly said again, this time less incredulous, and more ~~incredibled~~ ~~cred ib~~

She didn't ask it like a question, alright? She said it like, 'oh wow! that's amazing' or something.

"Those brutes," Sparkleshine said, this time with that same, Princess-y tone that the real Sparkle always did when she was lecturing me on something. But, this time, I decided to listen. Trixie had almost been killed, after all.

Right, anyway.

"Those brutes," she said, "Were Troggles. A tribe of boars who serve the will of Grogar, the Dread Ram."

"Grogar?" I asked, the name just barely registering as something I'd heard once before, but couldn't place, "Who's that?"

"An evil Ram, whose black magic allows him to create terrible monsters," Swirly took a turn for the serious, "He's been terrorizing the lands for years now, but besides Gusty..."

"Oh, hush now!" a callous, crackly voice rang out over the town.

Things were moving so fast, I realize. Trixie didn't have a chance to think over what anypony was saying. But, sitting here and writing it all out, I do remember something about this Grogar character. I think there's a fairy tale about him and Gusty.

Mom used to tell me that story.

I miss her. She had a beautiful voice, I think. Don't really remember what she sounded like, or looked like. But I remember she was a dancer, and a singer. So, of course she could sing and dance. She must have been so great. I can only remember the words to one of her songs, but it's usually enough.

Right, Bray.

Bray walked back through the crowd, his sour little face making me think he was a relative of Cranky's. The donkey looked fine, considering he'd just been chased back to town by a band of monsters, but his muzzle couldn't have ever once been happy, the way he carried himself.

"Everycreature knows that Gusty's just a myth! There ain't no way someone could stand up against Grogar."

He turned his face back towards me, and through clenched teeth, he added, "Thanks, by the way. For saving me. Wizard."

"Eh, don't mention it," I said, knowing full well what he was going through. Trixie may be many things, but proud is certainly one of them. I know whenever my flank's been pulled from the fire, I've never liked thanking the other party for it.

*the following was clearly written at a later date, in Starswirl's hornwriting*

Why didn't we piece it together sooner? It was so obvious. He was so obvious. I wish Luna had been around then, some nights. At least then, I might have found some solace from the nightmares.

When I asked a few donkey-historians about Bray, they spat on the ground before they'd talk about him.

From the play, Bray, written by Playbill Shake-Spear.

BRAY: I have done a thousand dreadful things as willingly as one would kill a fly; And nothing grieves me heartily indeed, but that I cannot do ten thousand more.”

Well, the performance was a bust. But, Trixie found her time in Hyneighria well-spent, regardless. That whole day, she was treated like royalty by the townsponies. I guess beating a couple of Troggles was a big deal around these parts. So, I got some great haycakes, some funky peach cider, and enough cake to make Celestia happy.

Best part? My local suppliers were more than happy to help me replace all the stuff that got blown up! I was even in such a good mood, I promised to do another show the next day!

Day Eight of being in the past went a lot better than Day Seven. Well, mostly. Don't get Trixie wrong, not having to deal with a farmpony rivalry or a bandit attack was nice, but things got a little hectic right at the end there, just a few hours ago from when I'm writing this down.

Things started off fine. Got in a nice breakfast. Watched Sparkleshine and Ribbon practice magic a bit. Sparkle lost, so even better! Took Swirly down to Peachy's place to pick up my new wagon. Nicely built, too! It looks a little like the number I had back when I first reached Ponyville, though a bit more open. It even had the same red roof.

Trixie sort of wonders now if technology ever moves forward in Equestria.

So am I at this point. The change in models Trixie's talking about probably refers to the fact that the wagon she purchased before Ponyville was a Suncruiser Mk XII. A popular model for travelers and vacationing families. After Princess Luna's return, the company, Alfalfa Romeo came out with a star and moon-themed wagon, the Dream Astral, which Trixie purchased some time after the Alicorn Amulet incident. With what money, I don't know.

Though, since Las Pegasus banned her for life around the same time, I have a few guesses.

That done, I went ahead with my show. And this performance went off without a hitch. The stage had to be rigged up at the last moment from scraps, and none of my cloth supplies had been dyed yet, but nopony seemed to mind. Heck, I could have sworn they were enjoying the show more than yesterday.

~~I don't often get to say this, but for a while, I finally knew what it was like to be loved.~~

I was in such a good mood after the last trick, where I put all my illusory skills to work making my assistant Swirly appear to grow into an adult stallion, that I went looking for that Bray character. Couldn't seem to find him though. Hope he's okay. Trixie knows from experience how bad a hurt ego can be.

Swirly's complaining that I didn't get his look right. Apparently, he should have a beard, like his dad. He seems really insistent on it. Hang on.

Okay. That wasn't a good idea. And for a couple of reasons.

First. He looked good. With the beard, I mean. Trixie will admit (I just realized I'm saying that a lot) that her skills at illusions are second to none, and I take a lot of pride in my work. But I work with what I got, and Swirly has got a lot going for him in the genetics department. If he turns out like my spell, then he'll probably be a mare's stallion when he grows up. That kid will be beating them off with a stick.

But, second reason that wasn't a good idea.

I know him. I recognized him.

Swirly. Bearded Swirly. Starry-eyed, bearded Swirly.

Starswirl, the Bearded. The Great Wizard. He Who Wore the Bells. I don't know if that's a real title of his,

He took that one after reading this journal, apparently. I suspect he gets his hooves on this before too long.

but it might be. At least, what I recall from CSGU. And from Princess Twilight. And that one time I kinda bumped into him in the Crystal Empire.

According to Starswirl, he legitimately didn't recognize her when they met up in the Crystal Empire Library. He chalked it up to him being tired and suffering tunnel-vision from his current project, plus no small amount of emotional distancing. I guess he thought she might have been a relative or distant cousin or something. It wasn't until she returned from this adventure that he got around his own mental and emotional blocks and realized who was standing right in front of him.

It's romantic, and tragic. Nice? Glad that he did remember her, in the end. Their kid sounds like a swell pony.

Oh, Buck. I almost killed Starswirl the Bearded.

Okay, you can't tell anypony about this, journal!

Which you won't. Because you're a book. *Trixie drew a frowny face here, it's cute*

Trixie needs a moment. And a stiff cider.

I'm back. Okay. So. I almost killed the greatest conjurer of the Pre-Classical Era. No big deal. Time travel's a crapshoot anyhow, right?

After my show, ~~Swirly~~ ~~Starswirl~~ Swirly and I mostly hung around town. Most of my packing was done, and I was ready to take off the next day (tomorrow morning), so I took things easy. He showed me some of the other foals playing in their little common area. That was nice, until I realized most of them were on break-time, and had to go back to work.

Foals with jobs. Guess I forgot that was a thing.

But I also got a good look at a little playhouse. It was puppets, but I'm not some snob who dislikes puppets. And for what they were, they were cute. They were putting on a historical play, according to Swirly. The Tale of Princess Amore.

Apparently, when this Grogar fellow came to power, ponykind did something bad (I was only half-paying attention at that part) that made all the Alicorns abandon them to his dark cruelty. All except for one, the Crystal Princess, who led a small group of ponies north, to a fabled land of ice and snow, but that was protected from Grogar's evil.

For once, I kept my mouth shut about the whole Crystal Empire thing. See, Starlight? I'm learning.

Less fun was learning how there weren't any Alicorns around. Swirly said they ascended or something. Not sure exactly what that means, but I figure it was bad. I do wonder what ponies did that ticked them off so much they'd leave us all behind like that. Must've been bad.

If Celestia or Luna ever talked about where Alicorns came from, you need to spill, now! Trixie is not a font of information on this. She does meet up with one later, but even that's such a tease!

I'm stalling. Trixie is stalling.

That night (um, a couple hours ago), everypony decided to gather at the top of a nearby hill. If I was a betting mare, I'd say it was the same hill Starlight likes to fly her kites from, but that'd be crazy

Who am I kidding? This place is almost definitely Ponyville in a few thousand years.

Everypony was there. Peachy, Sparkle, Ribbon and Bowtie, and even Firefly, a little more bruised than when I last saw her. And they were all there to watch some fireworks. I'd managed to work up a doozie of a rocket, and I'd sort of promised fireworks, so that's what I was there to do. I set it up just on the edge of the hill, and used a few planks of wood to hold it up and steadied.

"Can I light this one?" Swirly begged me. At the time, I couldn't resist his almost puppy-dog stare. How was I supposed to know he'd be important?

"Sure thing, shrimp," I said, totally oblivious to how many ways Equestria could turn into a sandy wasteland with that one remark.

Anyway, so, we get underway. I give a big ole speech, like I do. Trixie was all "Great and Powerful", and "Behold" and such and such. It was a grand spectacle.

Sorry. I'm just not feeling it all of a sudden. I know this is for posterity, or so that Starlight can find me again. You're taking your sweet time, by the way. But, I can't get over how close I got to

Right. Rip the band-aid off.

Swirly sparks up his horn, just like I showed him. And he pranced right over to the rocket, which I'd managed to make over twice his size. I mean, the blasting powders for that thing are dirt-cheap in the past, and there's so much of it!

He lights the rocket, and after a few tense seconds, it roars to life! This thing was a lurid yellow, the cheapest color they could find me, and in an instant, it would be sailing off into the night sky at the end of a bright-red trail. The only problem with this would be that it took off with a bit of the rope used to haul it out here. Normally, not a big deal.

This time? The other end of that rope had coiled around Swirly's hind legs! The poor kid was yanked off his hooves, and sent soaring after the rocket!

All I could do was stare. The whole evening had gone so well thus far. Everypony was having fun. We were all talking about what our plans were. Sparkle was thinking of opening a school. Ribbon wanted to travel. I was planning on keeping a low-profile from here on out.

And now, the most important foal in the world was about to explode.

It was my fault. I must have been so caught up in the glory and the praise that I got sloppy.

Could really use Luna right now. My dreams will not be fun tonight.

But then, just as Swirly went sailing to his doom, there was a red flash, and I could see Firefly racing to catch him! I couldn't believe how fast she was! It was like watching Rainbow Dash again! But, there was a part of me that knew she wouldn't make it in time. She wasn't that fast.

Or was she? The rocket reached the middle of town, though several hundred feet up. The red streak followed it, just to the edge of sight. Trixie almost couldn't bear to watch. She knew what was about to happen.

And it did. The firework detonated, and sent out a wave of gold and blue flames across the heavens.

But then, a rainbow followed.

My jaw dropped as I saw it. The sound was incredible, like an electric guitar opening up all the valves and bellowing out across the sky!

This metaphor confuses me because I know she knows what a guitar sounds like. Trixie's being deliberately Trixie here.

My heart soared with that sound, and with the rainboom blast that flew out over the town. And when I saw the rainbow itself form and fly straight from the explosion back towards our little hilltop party? I was so thrilled. So happy.

Firefly came down lightly, like she hadn't any energy to spare and was trying to not crash. Admirable, especially seeing as how she held little Swirly in her hooves.

"Anypony drop something?" she smirked.

Trixie hardly cared. She rushed to the pegasus' side and wrapped my hooves around the shuddering little unicorn.

"I'm so sorry!" I cried out, scared, but not nearly as much as I probably should have been, "Swirly! I'm so sorry, I didn't see that rope...!"

"It's alright!" he hugged me back, at least for a moment, before he realized he was acting like a scared little foal. He pushed me off, and got back to his hooves, "It was I who missed the rope, Ms Trixie. I... I didn't see it."

However, if there's one thing Trixie has learned, it's to take responsibility for her own mistakes.

"Well," I said, "Mind your surroundings next time. Firefly won't always be there to save you."

I never said I was good at taking responsibility. Just that I know I should.

But bringing up the egotistical pegasus brought ~~me and Swirly~~ Swirly and I both up sharp. We spun around, and found the entire hilltop engrossed in a new spectacle.

It was like looking at Rainbow Dash again. Firefly's whole mane and tail radiated rainbow light. The trail of rainbows that hung over the town still stopped mere feet from where she stood. It was the most amazing thing I think I've ever seen. I sort of wondered what it would look like up close, but Dash hadn't ever shown me the trick in pony like that.

"You did it," was all Trixie could manage.

Firefly was equally engrossed in her new do.

"Awesome!" her smile could be seen from orbit, no doubt. "This! WOW! This is the... the Awesomest thing possible! What was that!? How did I!? WHAT!? WOW!!!!"

Nopony seemed much to care that a foal had almost exploded. Everypony circled around Firefly, Swirly included, and just took in how astonishing her mane and tail looked. Even as the rainbow faded from the sky, it remained as vibrant as ever on Firefly.

"Ha!" she suddenly pointed a hoof at me, her face full of triumph, "And you said I couldn't do it!"

"But she said it could be done!" Swirly shot back in my defense. Then, he turned back towards me, as did everypony else, and stared with awe.

"She predicted it," he said, quietly. Every head was pointed my way now, and from Sparkle to Firefly, it was all I could do to not see the sheer adoration in their eyes.

I guess, in a way, they all thought I'd caused this. Huh.

"Well, of course!" I said. Can't spoil a trick, after all. Even one I didn't mean to perform. "Now, do you all see? I am indeed a Great and Powerful Magician!"

They cheered Trixie. Of course they did. How could they not, after I'd predicted the Sonic Rainboom, and then seemingly performed it? I allowed Firefly to be changed by its magic, but to all those ponies, it was my trick.

The adoration was intoxicating. I really am going to miss it. Hyneighria wasn't so bad, as a first place to visit when lost in time.

Merry just came by. Looks like I'm the last one up, and she got worried about candles being left burning in the library. I can see Swirly sleeping on one of the benches next to me. I should have known he was being too quiet.

Oh well. Guess that's it for Hyneighria. Next time, I should either be in Gallopoli, or near by it. But, for now, I'd better get my beauty sleep. I've got a few friends to say goodbye to before I leave in the morning. Can't let myself sleep in again.

Hopefully, once I get out of here, I can stop threatening the time-space vacuum, or whatever Starlight called it. Things turned out well so far, but I couldn't live with myself if something happened to Starswirl before he gets as famous as he does.

Til next time.

Author's Note

Another pony joins the cast.

For anyone who noticed, the name of Daring Do's daughter has been changed due to temporal mechanics. Yeah...

Preview - The Return of Tambelon

Author's Note

Preview - The Return of Tambelon

Dear Idea Works and Design Works:

Long time, no write! It's been a while since we talked about my next novel, and it would seem the muse has struck again. Between my husband returning to teach university and my kids getting old enough to handle themselves (despite my better judgement), I'm happy to say that I've still got some books in me. I know it's only been a year or so since you published Daring Do and the Rise of Marelantis, but I'm just too impatient to quit.

I've attached a preview chapter, to whet your appetites. The setup is simple: Daring Do has traveled to the Unexplored West in order to hunt down an artifact of ancient Equestria; Grogar's Bell. Or, one of them. Stories say he had multiple lesser bells besides the famous one. A lot of my story ideas were inspired by some government excavation work I was asked to help with, so if something sounds familiar to something else you've read in the papers, that would explain it.

And that's the Bell Daring's after, when she's caught by a mad cult led by an even madder pony, Wilspur Wheatley, who plans on using the Bell to steal Grogar's dark power.

I hope you enjoy it, as it was a lot of fun coming up with. Especially the cameos. Aren't my kids amazing writers too?

Hope you two enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Signed, your friend,
AK Yearling

Daring Do awoke suddenly as a bucket of cold water was splashed unceremoniously into her face. She sputtered and shook her sopping mane, bleary-eyed, but instantly ready for action.

Touch came back first, out of all her senses. Daring could feel the hard, cold bell pressed up against her back, and the tightly wrapped ropes holding her against it. Even her wings were pinned to her side.

Sound was next. She could hear water dripping somewhere far off, just audible over the chorus of birdsong and rustling greenery.

This was quickly confirmed as Daring's sight came back. Her mind was already trying to take in the surroundings, which seemed to mostly include a dark, ruined temple covered in moss, with blown-out windows that once might have held stain-glass mosaics. The whole place had that feel, that appearance she'd seen a thousand times before, one of rot and decay so old that even the Princesses would be taken aback.

Smell was last to return.

Did they hit her with filtered water?

Across from Daring, even as she struggled in her wakening, she could see her captors smirk. There were six of them at the moment, though from her groggy memories of the fight, she could remember more. Four of them were dressed in black, all-concealing robes. Typical of cults, Daring supposed, even though it was obvious they were all unicorns from their uncovered horns.

But at the front of this menacing ~~crowd~~ {eh, more of a gaggle, some word-choice options helpful} stood two figures Daring knew she'd seen before. The first was a stallion, dressed in black robes, yet crowned with a ~~crown~~ ~~hat~~ ~~mantle~~ helm made from a ram's horns.

But the other, a young mare dressed in a matching red fedora and trenchcoat, drew Daring's ire instantly.

"Carmare Sandeneighgo," she growled, "We meet again!"

The infamous thief and criminal mastermind, and secretly the daughter of Daring Do and her once-rival, Dr Caballeron, {I know this ship isn't that popular in the fandom, but I'm sticking to it for authorial vision. Also, if you're worried about legal, never fear! I've already obtained permission for Carmare's cameo appearance from her creator, my older daughter Zaldia} began to say something nefarious, Daring had no doubt, when the ram-horn-crowned cultist stepped forward.

"Excuse me!" he declared in a haughty, entitled voice that Daring found immensely familiar, "But I was the one who founded this cult! You shall speak to me! Daring Do!" he somewhat added her name to the end as an afterthought.

Daring rolled her eyes. Villains these days were drama princesses. Adding way too many exclamation points to their monologues.

"I don't even know you," Daring pointed out without being able to point, "Though, I suspect you're the ones who stole Kagrenicker's Tools!"

"Guilty as charged!" the stallion laughed, villanously {drawing a blank on better adverbs}. "And I knew, where an evil cult had stolen rare artifacts, there would be Daring Do to the rescue! Exactly as planned!"

Daring frowned, "You planned on me kicking your butts and stopping you?"

"What?" the stallion seemed confused, "N-no! It was my intention to capture you! That you might be the first sacrificed to Grogar upon his return! When I strike the Great Bell, the Heart of Lavan, the veil will be torn asunder, and Grogar the Great shall return once more!"

Daring stared at the mad cultist, and was unimpressed. "Okay, question."

Carmare snickered, knowing all too well where this was headed.

"Why sacrifice me?" Daring shook her head slowly, for emphasis, "I've dealt with all sorts of evil cults, weird artifacts, and spooky ruins before, but nothing related to Grogar. So, why me?"

"Erm..." the cult leader paused a moment, thinking.

But Daring wasn't waiting that long!

"Seems a bit personal, if you ask me. And what's that about bringing Grogar back? You do realize he's already back, right?"

One of the other cloaked figures tilted their head to one side, whispering to one of their compatriots in a heavy Canterlot accent, "Uh, wait... is that true?"

"Idiots!" their leader snapped, black lightning suddenly crackling between the horns of his helm, "She's trying to confuse you! Grogar awaits his Chosen in the void beyond!"

Daring chuckled, "Nah! He's probably helping Sugarcube Corner out with their latest order. Or, he's reading to his grandfoal. Or, he's playing poker with the other retirees at the home. You guys do get the newspaper out here, don't'cha?" {No, I'm not being paid a sponsorship to mention Sugarcube Corner. I just like the joint.}

The cult leader snorted, and strode forward. With a snarl, he conjured a roll of duct tape and snapped Daring's mouth shut. From this close, she could finally see who her captor was.

Wilspur Wheatley? The famous musician and adventurer unicorn? The one who'd disappeared under mysterious circumstances?

Of course! Daring shook her head ruefully.

It was so obvious, in hindsight! The bored, Canterlot elites making up his cult? The message in the cider bottle? The impeccable vocal control? How could she miss that!? {Clues will be dispersed throughout the text up until this point, I don't need to assure you.}

"Yes, Daring," Wilspur whispered, "I assume you recognize me now, hrm? All I wanted was to join you on one of your adventures, but you couldn't be bothered with your Number One Fan! And now, with the help of these hapless fools, I shall steal the power of Grogar himself, and... ascend. I will become all powerful, and worthy of your attention!. What do you have to say now?"

Daring rolled her eyes. This was why she didn't like getting publicized. Too many fan club members ended up going evil to prove themselves. It was a rather disconcerting statistic. {Rainbow Dash, the Official Daring Do Fan Club President, is cool. But I've noticed a certain toxic part of the fanbase in recent years, and figured I needed to address them somehow.}

Wilspur glanced down to her taped-up muzzle. "Oh... right. The tape. W-well..."

He coughed, and began speaking normally, or as normal as a monologueing villain could speak, saying, "Regardless! If the Eclipse weren't so important for the ritual, I'd stick around to make certain your demise... but sadly, we haven't the time."

"Uh, boss?" another cultist raised a hoof in question.

"Yes?"

The cultist who spoke looked around, "Um... we could just, like, hit her with a rock. Ya know?"

Wilspur looked aghast. His mouth hung low, and his eyes bulged.

"Are you out of your mind!?"

"Well, I thought..."

Wilspur's dark magic frothed about his, Daring now realized, surgically added ram-horns. And with a simple burst of his newfound magical fury, he vaporized the poor henchpony instantly.

"There is a proper way to do things!" Wilspur stomped through the ashes, "You do rituals to get your dark power, or summon your evil overlord, in this case. You conduct searches in standardized patterns, like how we caught Miss Do. And, when you have Daring Do hostage, you put her in the death trap!

"Bray's buckles!" he cursed, "I thought you ponies at least read my newsletter!"

Wilspur sighed, dramatically. His remaining cultists cowered before his dark power. That, to him, seemed to be all he wanted.

"And, in any case," he reached out with his magic and flipped a long, bronze switch on the wall, "We're out of time."

The gears and clockwork machines that lined the walls began to shriek and churn, ancient magic no-doubt keeping the whole system in working order, despite the relentless march of time and rust. The hammer, which had been suspended by such machines, now began to lurch backward, up and into the air with each ponderous tick of the gears.

~~It was some sort of evil, clockwork mechanism, like the Metal Ponies of Cyberquestria, from Daring's battle against the Maresians in~~ Daring Do and the Space Invaders~~.~~ {Scratch that. Too meta.}

Daring could tell at once that the hammer was being pulled back into position... to squash her at the ringing of the bell!

"Farewell, Daring Do!" Wilspur began laughing, maniacally, as he and his cultists left the chamber. Only Carmare Sandeneighgo paused. The scarlet-dressed mare watched Daring with a piercing gaze.

Then, Carmare trot up to the ensnared adventurer. The cultists watched, knowing that their ally had some sort of bone to pick with her.

Carmare said nothing. Her gaze said all that needed to be said. She reached over, and gave a clearly sarcastic, and maudlin, kiss to Daring's cheek, before she turned and strode away, Wilspur and his cultists taking their leave as well.

Daring sighed. If her little girl was one thing, she was an adventurous thief. And if she were two things, she was also a good kid. Daring reached down as far as she could with her muzzle, and flipped open one of her shirt pockets.

A penknife! Right where Zaldia had just dropped it!

"Atta girl!"

But, as she caught the knife in her teeth, there was a sudden quail from the machine! The gears popped and creaked, and somewhere a spring must have been busted loose, for there was an awful shaking of the room.

The knife dropped from Daring's grasp! It hit the floor, and lay just beyond where her tail or hooves could reach.

This was it, Daring thought. The end. She looked up at the hammer as it was brought fully into position.

There was a moment of silence.

The end.

Daring closed her eyes, and waited.

SPRING! The hammer snapped free...!

But no ringing. No splatter. Daring slowly opened her eyes, and saw that the hammer was mere inches from her face. The thin end of a whip had gripped the deadly device, and held itself taut.

Daring looked down the whip's length, and beamed.

"Indeedy Do!" her other daughter, the intrepid young adventurer herself, stood at the chamber's entrance, holding the entire machine's deadly strike back through brute earth pony power.

"Don't you worry, Mom!" she called out with a grunt, "I'll getcha out of there...!"

Which was when the whip snapped...

I bet you're on the edge of your seats now? I told you I still got it! Indeedy and Carmare play a big part of this adventure. Again, I got permission from Indeedy's creator, my younger daughter Treasure S Hunter. I have very talented kids, I know. I've also got a few gags with Indeedy giving her foalsitter, Ahuizotl, the slip, and the finale is all planned out. Hint: it involves Daring ringing some bells.

But, we can talk all about that when I see you in pony. How about that little cafe in the Crystal Empire. Applebucks? I know you love talking books over a nice brew!

Your friend,
AK Yearling

The Princess of Friendship shook her head. This... this wasn't at all how she wanted this to go.

Now she'd probably have to wait a year or something to find out what happened!

She laughed at her own little joke, at least internally. Externally, she was running Dusk Court, and had little time to ruminate on Daring's miss-sent letter. She found it rather amusing that her friend, favorite author, and current government researcher, had accidentally sent the Princess that little taste of her next manuscript, tucked away in the middle of her Trixie report.

That had been a week ago. Daring had apologized for the mix-up, and Twilight had offered to help her edit the final book when it was ready. A good time was had. And, through an all-too-short teatime with Daring and Rainbow, Twilight had learned that Wilspur and his cult had been banished to the Shadowrealm when they struck the wrong note on the bell, and Daring had to perform a harmonic-song-spell on the Wind-chimes of Fate in order to close the portal.

It sounded like a fun adventure, all told. Even Zaldia and Treasure learned a few lessons about friendship, and grand theft charges, at least in Zaldia's case.

Twilight had asked Grogar what happened to Wilspur and his cultists, seeing as how that old ram still had control over his dark realm.

He'd just laughed. And laughed. And laughed. Pinkie had to spritz him with a spray bottle to make him stop.

Still. As Twilight Sparkle conducted the ship of state, she couldn't help but wonder what wonders she would find in the second half of that journal entry. And, she also wondered how Trixie herself had been doing since the Gala...

Day XX, part 2 - The Arc of Time

Trixie tucked Swirly into his hammock that night soon after taking him under my metaphorical wing. I, however, stayed up a while longer. Normally, Trixie makes sure to get her beauty rest, but I was worried. I really thought I'd seen something off in the woods, and I didn't want to take a chance with Swirly by not checking up on it.

After a while, though, I started thinking whatever I saw had only been a trick of the light. But, just to be safe, I let the fire burn itself out before I ended watch. The woods were still dangerous, after all. It was still the freaking Everfree.

No monsters popped out that night. But, I was happy I'd stayed up anyway. Just after the fire burned out, Trixie looked up, and saw the stars. I guess I'd been busy, all this time trapped in the past, or the weather just hadn't ever been agreeable. I had never taken a moment to look up at night, and look at ~~Luna's~~

She didn't exist yet, I realized, looking up into such a night sky as I've never seen. If Trixie lives to be one hundred years old, she will never forget the sight. It reminded me of once, in Art class, when I was practicing a tricky part of my future magic act. Yes, I know I should have been doing the assignment, but I heard that the Great Cosma could levitate stuff without using her horn, so naturally, Trixie had to figure it out as well.

The only records I could find of a magician named Cosma were a party clown license filed with Canterlot's Bureau of Fun, and an arrest warrant for a unicorn mare wanted in connection to a bank heist committed by a gang of criminal party planner ponies.

I tried getting more out of Pinkie Pie, she being my expert on such things (no, I don't know where my life went so wrong), but all I got was a slap in the face, and something about how "a Pinkie Promise must be held, FOR-E-VER". I have no idea what happened there.

Long story short, Journal, but Trixie might have instead combusted the various paint supplies she had access to. Luckily, nothing burst into flame ~~that time~~, but it did result in me with a black portrait completely covered in specks of silver, blue, and purple paint. I thought it looked positively Great and Powerful. Professor Melting Clock didn't think so, and gave me ~~a D~~ a Gentlemare's C. Funny thing though, was that he changed it to a B when Princess Celestia came in and wanted to keep the painting.

I know! I mean, it was a very nice thing she did for a silly filly. It probably sat on her fridge door for a week before she tossed it. Saved my grade too. ~~Not that it mattered in the end.~~

I wonder if you knew that Celestia kept that picture. I asked her about the incident, and she seemed to remember everything. Must've been hard to have fun while her student, am I right? Apparently, Trixie's little painting misadventure reminded the Princess of her long lost sister, since it looked like a starfield. I guess she'd been bored with her own stars for a thousand years by that point, so she kept it.

The painting looked just like those stars. Spots of silver on a black canvas, entwined in gold and blue and purple swirls. A small part of me wanted to twirl my cape a bit, but even the Great and Powerful Trixie had to bow to the night-sky's superior skill. It was beautiful.

But, Trixie hears you asking, Journal, why does all this matter?

Trixie will get to that. In time.

Trixie finished that page with a bunch of doodles of stars in the margins.

Day 14, and we were making good time for once!

Ha ha! Trixie was pulling your leg, Journal!Sweet Luna's horn, I'm so lonely.

No, actually. It wasn't a good day at all. It wasn't ~~watch-a-village-burn bad~~ the worst thing, but it certainly wasn't Great or Powerful. No, it was the exact opposite of Great and Powerful. It was downright Sparkle!

Trixie shouldn't say those sorts of things. The Princess hasn't really been a problem for me for a long while now. And she was responsible for me meeting my absolute bestie. How many times am I going to remember that while writing in you before it sticks?

Right, Day 14. Stupid day. Worse night. ~~Very Sparkle~~ stop that

For as cute and adorable as he is, Starswirl is such a complainer. I mean, I'm happy his mood improved, but if he just ~~worked his legs more than his mouth~~ walked more than he talked, maybe Trixie wouldn't have a throbbing headache right now. Then again, that might also be from the concussion.

Trixie will explain.

So, I started off Swirly's apprenticeship in the best way I knew how. It was the way Grey taught me, after all. The key to being a great magician, to be that a legendary Wizard or a stage magician of peerless ~~skill, beauty, poise~~

"Magic isn't just about making your horn glow and throwing fireballs and laser blasts around," I told him before we broke camp.

~~The little twerp~~ Swirly was very eager to start his tutelage, and so, interrupted me. "Yes! It's about harnessing the elementary factors of creation, binding them to your will, and changing reality with but a whim!"

I don't know where he gets it.

"Wrong-o!" said the Great and Powerful Me, "Magic is about all kinds of things! And the first, and most important, lesson you can learn is this: A Healthy Body is a Healthy Mind!"

His blank little stare was all I needed to know he didn't have a clue as to what I meant. So, Trixie decided to demonstrate. I went off into the nearby treeline, and quickly found just what I needed. It took me a few minutes, since I needed to find some leverage and a stick, but I was able to lever a small rock out of the ground, and tossed it over to our camp. The darn thing had to weigh fifty pounds or so.

"What is that?" Swirly asked as I got out the rope from my wagon.

"This," I said with a dash of a performance in my voice, "will be your luggage!"

"My luggage?" he asked, still not grasping what I was trying to teach him, "But... that's a rock. A rock that's almost as big as I am!"

I nodded at his finally understanding. "Indeed! And by carrying this rock while we're on the road, you will build the muscle and endurance to survive the life of a traveling magician!"

I actually know what Trixie's doing here! Trixie's teacher, Grey Prancer, must have learned from the same school as my first archaeology professor, Author Challenge Doily! Hauling heavy stones during intense physical training is a staple of Turtle Hermit's martial arts school. Turtle-style is good for building endurance and stamina, so a lot of The Hermit's teachings are used in Royal Guard training, and Rainbow Dash relies on it heavily for training her Wonderbolts. Seriously, I'd be dead a dozen times over if I didn't learn how to hoof it over a mountain while chained to a boulder.

He licked his lips, clearly eager to begin... or so I thought.

"That's crazy!" he shook his head at me, "I can't carry that! How does this help me with magic!?"

Trixie could only roll her eyes at the foalish foal. I couldn't believe how little such a supposedly legendary wizard knew about magic!

"Because, my apprentice," I drew myself up to look even more Great and Powerful than I normally was, "Your magic isn't just in your horn!"

"It isn't?"

Trixie had to pause for a moment at that. It never occurred to me that Starswirl, or anypony, for that matter, wouldn't know about something so elementary to magic. I mean, how could he not know about this stuff?

"Of course not! Magic flows throughout your body! All ponies have little nodes and pools of magic in their bodies, and unique ways for that magic to flow out of them. And the best way to keep those nodes going strong, is to keep your body in shape!"

"But Galen of Piggamon* said..." Swirly started rattling off a bunch of names and philosophies that I don't even care to remember. I like the kid, I really do. But sometimes, he goes full-Twilight when you bring up something even remotely related to magic.

Galen of Pegamon was a unicorn philosopher who was born in Pegamon, a Pegasus city-state. Since mixed heritages were still illegal among the pegasi back then (some 200 years before this point in history), he was exiled to Roam, where he became a leading philosopher and magical-theorist. Of course, literally everything he ever wrote has since been debunked, but by this point in history he was still considered the leading authority on the relationship between the equine body and magic.

The Mana-Chakra System (MCS) taught today was supposed to have been discovered by Starswirl himself, with help from Mistmane. Seems he started his theory by listening to Trixie talk about it.

*Trixie misspelled Pegamon. I chose not to correct her. Because it's funny.

It took an hour to convince him that I wasn't just being weird, and that this was legitimately how he could build his physical endurance. Luckily for me, he's a quick learner. Once he saw it was possible, Swirly fell right into line.

But, I wasn't done yet! While Grey Prancer had taught me the basics of Turtle Style and its endurance training, I'd already surpassed my own master in the mystical arts. For you see, Journal, there was one other thing Swirly needed if he was to be my true magical apprentice!

"Now," I began, once I'd tied the boulder to Swirly's back (he did not look happy with that thing on, but that was the point), "I'm going to show you a spell that will let you reduce the weight of the boulder, but only so long as you concentrate on it."

"What..." he gasped, "What's the point of that?"

"The point is," I said, patient as always, "that Magic is like a muscle. The more you use it, the stronger it gets. And it'll make the boulder manageable. So, there's that."

His eyes bulged out at me, though that could also have been the boulder crushing his little body.

"Wait, why didn't we start with that!? I feel like my hooves are sinking!"

"Do you question your master!?" I shot back. Even if I liked the kid, he needed to know who was boss.

Trixie was boss. Just in case you didn't know that, Journal.

"N-no, Master Trixie!" he panicked a little bit, and reset his stance to hold up the rock a little easier, "Please, teach me!"

Well, he took to my spell like Twilight does to a donut shop--

Rude.

Also, that training style sounds like unicorn Guard training. Technically, Trixie's on the rolls for the Ponyville militia, ever since Starlight sent her off with the Friendship School kids during Chrysalis's attack. Looks like she would have only just finished her first round of training with them when she was sent back.

Speaking of the crazy bug herself, you gotta tell me how that whole rehabilitation thing's going. Discord complains a lot about Cozy Glow whenever he's around, so I bet the other two former-statues have some fun stories to share?

-- and within the hour, we were off!

Too bad the storm caught up with us right after that. We even made some decent distance through the woods, when the wind kicked up and a shower started. A heavy shower, the kind where somepony breaks the head off and the whole wall starts flooding the bathroom. Starlight seriously needs to learn how to turn a pipe without crushing it in her mutant-strong magic grip. I couldn't even see that far once the rain started, like the whole sky and all the clouds were dropping on my head!

My luck, naturally. Well, Trixie wasn't about to let a little rain show her up. I happen to know a few weather spells. Alright, to be honest (I should try that more often), weather magic's always been a tricky thing for Trixie. I've been able to take a couple apart and modify a few others, but real weather magic takes a lot more raw ~~power~~ mana than I could muster up in one go.

But, as I was to teach Swirly soon enough: Power is nothing without being Clever!

So, I whipped up a quick umbrella-spell I knew from traveling the Everfree (before my little adventure started), where random weather just sort of happens. This rain was too thick for a shield spell, so I opted to take out the velocity matrix and thaumic feedback loop from Skydancer's Ballet, and used that to make a little tornado come out of my horn to blow all the rain in front of my face away!

Skydancer was a very strange pony from the 6th century, CE. She was a pegasus, a ballerina, and a close, personal friend to Celestia1. Yet, despite ostensibly being an artist and an aristocrat, she was fascinated with unicorn magic, and helped her best friend, Lord Tumble Dry, develop some of the first weather spells used for Canterlot's Winter Wrap Up.
1. Very close2
2. Sexy close

Anyway, Trixie is listed in the Grand Spell Registry as having tweaked or modified a couple dozen spells. I didn't realize how seriously unicorn mages took sourcing spells and modifications until I tried looking Trixie up in the registry. Did you know she owns the patent on a spell called Glimglam's Glamorous Hams? Apparently, it used to be a fireball spell, until Trixie figured out she could use its heating properties to burn calories after eating too much. It nearly killed her, but she got the credit for inventing a new spell regardless.

And yes. I desperately want to know that spell, and I'm not even a unicorn!

But, Swirly wasn't having it. I don't really blame him all that much. When I learned the technique, it was hard to switch back and forth from straining my muscles to straining my magic. It helped the Great and Powerful Trixie become even Greater and more Powerful, but this was Swirly's first day. While he'd done a fantastic job huffing and puffing away at my side, right then and there, he was just drowning in mud.

After rolling the boulder over, I used the rain and Skydancer's spell to clean the poor colt off, though he protested the whole time. Even that spell, however, wouldn't push the rain aside enough to keep going. And so, with a heavy heart, and a water-logged hat, I pulled us into a small flat area in between a stand of trees, and we retreated into the safety of the wagon.

Warm and dry, we tucked into our trail rations with gusto! Firefly, as it turned out, had been a decent cook for these sorts of things. ~~Or knew a decent cook, whatever~~ So, we had a nice bit of honey-soaked bread with a paste I think she made out of beans and raisins. I wanted to stretch out the real food a bit, or else we'd have cooked something in the wagon.

Trixie supposes that, for a first day on the road, things hadn't gone well for poor Swirly. I mean, things hadn't really been going well for a while, but still, I felt bad about how my training had already gone off. So, I came up with an idea.

"Alright," Trixie said, once we'd gotten comfortable, "So, teaching you how to walk was a bust for today..."

"Hey," he interrupted, through a muzzle-full of food.

"Nevertheless!" I said with dramatic flourish, then to appease the irate youth, "But it was only your first day. You shall... grow into it, I guess."

I coughed, and stepped back into Showmare Mode.

"For today, I shall impart unto you, the secrets of... Sleight of Hoof!"

Swirly, being uninitiated into the true mysteries of the Stage Magician, balked at my teachings.

"There's nothing magical about... whatever sleight of hoof is," he pouted, ~~like a child~~ crap, he is a child.

It was at that moment that I produced... The Coin. The simplest, yet most effective, magic trick available to a stagehoof. It was a single silver Bit, the sort that most ponies in the here and now were using instead of gold bits. Crazy, I know. Who makes their money out of worthless silver when Gold is available?

Due to the efforts of Stressed Silver, Celestia's court Archmage from 344 to 420 CE, artificial Silver crashed the market on the once-precious metal. Its use as a reagent for magical research, as well as its aesthetic value, kept it in circulation, much like gemstones, but silver never recovered its old value.

Discord started laughing when I wrote that. Said something about how I should "buy gold", and that "gravity is a lie". Can you ask Starlight to ward my house from him, please? He keeps popping in and out of my annotations.

Y̧͍͍͖͚o̡͙̖͉͖u̧̱̖̝ͅͅ'̧̬̲͇̳͉r̡̝͍e̡͍̟ͅ j̢̱̣͚ụ̡̩̞s̩͉̝͜t̡̩̭̫͇̥ j̢̰̱̮̦ͅȩ̮̞a̢͕̞̟̠l͚̭̱̤̳͜o̫͍̳͜ų͓̟̣s̯̮̩͖͉͢ ţ͔͔̲̬͙h̢̥͔̣̦a̧͈͎t̬̬̳͜ͅ I̪͓̟͚͜ w̧͉̠e̪̪͢ą̟̯̟̳̩r̡̭͕̤ͅ i̢̜̟̤t̢̗̫ b̨̙̖̲͔̙e̱̜̣͢ţ̮̟̤t͓̠͢ͅe̡̙̲̱̙̜r͔͚̰͖͢.̱̟̗̩͢

Yeah, like that.

Swirly didn't seem too impressed, not at first. Which was understandable. Trixie knew from personal experience, the best tricks come in the least conspicuous packages.

"Magic," Trixie began, "is all in how you see things."

I began rolling the coin around the edge of my hoof, my voice, and the sound of metal rolling across keratin, mixing with that of the falling rain. But, though he looked bored, I could tell I still had his attention.

"Magic isn't about making fireballs," I said, "or about moving mountains, making portals to other worlds, or even creating life..."

He was very interested now. It was time for Trixie to lay down some truths.

"Trixie isn't the Great and Powerful because she only uses power to do her magic. Magic is more than power. It's taking the mundane, and making it mysterious. It's about taking the normal, and making it supernormal!"

I left the coin spinning in place at the tip of my hoof, and I think that as much as anything else, fascinated little Swirly. ~~I should probably show him my coin-throwing later~~ Nevermind, stupid idea. Bad Trixie.

Trixie learned a lot about knife and coin throwing from her time in the circus, but she only added it to her magic act after she got private lessons from Limestone Pie (Braytona Six-Time All-National Rock-Throwing Champion). She's currently banned from throwing in her act, by royal decree. Apparently, due to her training under Limestone, her throws "naturally and unerringly, drift into the subjects' heads", according to the Fillydelphia PD report.

On a related note, did you know Luna was in a week-long coma after that show!?

"Magic," Trixie decided to finish her demonstration, "isn't about being powerful. It's about being... Clever!"

And with that, the coin vanished. Of course, not really. Trixie merely flicked it to her other hoof and frogged it, as the sleight of hoof parlance goes. But Swirly didn't know that.

His eyes practically bulged right out of his head! The little colt looked at my horn, and back to my hoof. There was awe in his face, certainly... but also confusion, fascination... and finally, Joy!

"I... how did you do that!?"

"Magic," I said, in reply.

"But," he shook his head, like that would help him think through the trick, "But I didn't see your horn glow! How did you perform magic without your horn?"

"Because, magic isn't about being powerful," I produced the coin again, and this time Swirly focused on it like it was a snake about to bite, "It's about being clever. Here, watch..."

The next page or so looks to be lost to water damage and some sort of mold I can only assume to be beanpaste. The lost part can be read, but only in broken fragments.

To the best of my ability, I could decipher that Trixie spent an hour or more teaching 'Swirly' how to do that coin trick, and that once he realized it wasn't actual magic, he got real salty. He got over it, partly because he seemed to like Trixie and figured she was onto something with her 'clever' speech. Plus, she offered to teach him that Skydancer spell.

But, while she was doing that, the sound of thunder seemed to keep getting closer...

"... almost got it!" I said, encouragingly, "Just tilt the axis a little more back."

In hindsight, it was a good thing I tied everything down first. Trixie won't lie, she was surprised at how quickly Swirly picked up her umbrella spell. But, then, he was supposed to be a big deal wizard. Being a child-prodigy was exactly what I should have expected.

Like me, of course!

But there was that sound again. I was starting to think it wasn't thunder at all, but watching Swirly practice his spell, I suppose I got distracted. I was witnessing a young showstallion begin walking the path to fame and glory, and I could tell, even if I didn't know who he was supposed to be, that the kid had talent.

I hope he gets there, this time. I really do.

The sound was like a low rumble, and a hauntingly familiar one. And, now that it was so loud, I started thinking I should take a look. I let Swirly continue practicing while I went to the back door to the wagon, unlatched the lock, and looked out into what I thought was a dark and stormy ~~night~~ day (sorry, habit), but was in fact merely a rainy, foggy day with a slight case of Timberwolves.

~~There were easily a dozen,~~ no! ~~A hundre~~

Alright, so, a dozen. Not the worst thing Trixie has ever dealt with, except for the fact that the pack leader was only two feet away and charging the door!

Now, Journal? I promise you, everything that happened just then, was entirely, and completely, in Trixie's control. Recall, if you will, her cat-like reflexes? Trixie let out a mighty war-cry that startled the mighty beast, and she leapt back from its jaws to protect my student.

Then, with expert skill and precision, ~~I~~ Trixie kicked one of the chests over, spilling a whole bundle of fireworks out onto her back.

Swirly, startled though he was, executed my plan perfectly. My training had conditioned him, so that when he saw the Timberwolves, and the fuses to the rockets, he knew precisely what to do! He struck the rocket with his magic, and set the whole bundle, almost twenty rockets, firing into the Timberwolf's open jaws. It careened through the air, and erupted into a shower of fire, smoke, and wooden bits, almost flattening the whole pack in one go!

I'm calling shenanigans. And not just because Starswirl, at some point, wrote the following in the margins:

I don't remember it quite like that. Then again, I was a little under the weather by that point. Sorry, Trixie. Wish I'd told you sooner.

I remember focusing on that weather spell, straining to keep my mana flow consistent, when you started screaming, and screaming, and kicking around in, what I assumed was, a panic. That, in addition to the raging Timberwolves trying to bust down the door, scared me so severely that I, and I do not admit this lightly, had a slight mana leak, that ignited all of your fireworks, the whole bundle of which had fallen atop you in the blind scramble that was going on.

The explosion was just how I remember it, however. Great Ghosts, I'm so glad those explosives had been pointed out a window.

Stains heavily obscure the next section

I tell you now, Journal, that I have never run so hard from anything. Even that one time I had to slip out of Hope Hollow ahead of the guard, I wasn't running as hard as I was just then. Timberwolves have legs on them.

The explosion bought us, like, a minute, tops. I hitched myself up as quick as I could, and started hauling out of there like there was--

I just realized that there's no metaphor that really gets across how fast I was hauling it, except to say it was like Timberwolves were on my tail. Which they were.

As I've said before though, we were fetlocks deep in thick, cloying mud! But, Trixie had something up her sleeves for this occasion! I quickly cast my very own spell, the Glimglam's Glamorous Hams. Normally, this brilliant bit of arcane acumen was Trixie's super-secret means of keeping a svelte figure. But, it was originally a Fire spell, and so it took almost no time at all for the Great and Powerful Trixie to re-substitute some of the more fiery elements back in, and to target the mud itself.

The patch of mud we were in dried up after just a few seconds and, with a simple tug, I was able to pull us free. Unfortunately, the rest of the forest was still completely rained in, and muddy. So, plan B was going to take yet another clever play on my part.

"Swirly!" I called out, "Dump anything that's not nailed down!"

"Even the bits!?" he called back from the inside of the wagon.

I shouted back, "Don't be crazy!"

Honestly, I should have worded that better. Though I didn't yet know Swirly had started tossing out my money, I knew that losing weight wasn't the only trick to getting us away from those Timberwolves. Well, it was, but in a different way. I started casting the cloud-walking spell again, though this time, I tweaked one of the target vectors so that the spell would work on the wagon itself!

Thank you, Journal. Trixie is a genius.

And so humble, of course.

I actually checked with Zaldia whether or not that was impressive. She seemed to think making a whole wagon weigh nothing using a spell meant to copy pegasus magic was impossible. Par for the course with Trixie, I guess.

We flew through the forest after that! Not literally, don't be silly, Journal. But with the wagon weighing nothing, and with Trixie's peerless athleticism and skill, we were making excellent time racing against those monsters.

Or, so I thought. But a glance behind me proved what I'd always feared. Those Timberwolves had come in numbers! There must have actually been a couple dozen of the beasts, and they were nipping at our heels. Several of the quicker ones had caught up to us, and if it weren't for the quick thinking of Swirly zapping them on the snouts with magical blasts that were ~~even weaker than mine~~ just enough to tickle them, they might have stopped the wagon.

As it was, they merely kicked the crap out of it. Sure, Swirly shooed off one or two. But when ten come out of the woods and start throwing themselves into the side of your wagon? We were getting pummeled.

However, fortune found us! A rock, little more than a tiny pebble, got caught under Trixie's wheels, and with the wagon itself weighing so little, the whole thing bounced high up into the air, taking poor Trixie with it! I landed at the wagons' head, falling into the interior as the cord keeping me connected snapped from the violent shake we got.

The wagon sailed through the air, and down the slope of a rocky hill. If it weren't for the fact that we came down perfectly on the remains of some sort of cobblestone road at just the right angle, we might have crashed right then and there!

Instead, we crashed two seconds later, right in the middle of a pile of boulders. I was thrown from the wagon, and landed hard at the foot of one of the rocks. One of the wagon's wheels rolled past me, and disappeared into the jungle around us.

I tell you, my head was swimming. It still kind of is. But, at that moment, I didn't much care.

"Swirly!" I cried, ~~realizing~~ remembering what had just happened. I wasn't sure if I'd been out for a moment, a minute, or longer. The rain had stopped, and the earth beneath us was dry as bone.

The little colt was hanging out the front of the wagon, dazed, and clearly gut-punched by the railing, but once I got up to him, it was obvious he was just winded. Trixie pulled him out of there, and I started assessing the damage.

Not bad, all things considered. The wagon had slammed into some sort of dry pool right in the center of the boulders, losing one wheel, and most of the axle. No worries there. I could fix it in a jiff, assuming we weren't eaten by Timberwolves in the next few minutes.

Oddly, we hadn't been. I know if I was a Timberwolf, I'd be salivating at the chance to eat a pony as obviously Scrumptious and Delicious as Trixie.

I looked around, and found my answer. The wolves had all come to a dead-stop, just beyond the ring of boulders we'd landed in. In fact, if Trixie didn't know any better, ~~which of course Trixie did~~, I'd guess that they were scared to follow us.

They remained there, at the edge of the circle, for only a few moments, before they retreated back into the depths of the Everfree. I can still feel their eyes on us, even now.

But, right then, I was more worried about Swirly. And I couldn't help but feel weirded-out by the place we'd landed. When I went back to him, Swirly was awake, and staring straight up at the sky above us.

"Swirly?" I asked, "Are you alright?"

He didn't answer.

"Swirly," Trixie huffed, in a dignified and non-pouty manner, "You know it's bad manners to ignore your Master, right?"

Again, he didn't answer me. He just started pointing straight up in the air. I went over to him, but when he refused to do anything else, I shrugged and followed his hoof.

And, well, it takes a lot to impress somepony as Great and Powerful as myself. But that was certainly impressive.

The clouds were parting around the weird boulders. Like, there was a hole in the sky, and all the clouds were going around us.

And that's when it hit me. These weren't boulders, Journal! They were Standing Stones!

I'd just crashed my wagon into Ponehenge!

Again!

I'll come clean on this one: I haven't been able to find out when or how she crashed into Ponehenge before. You and your friends were the first living beings to find it in about a thousand years. Wait, was it doing the cloud-thing when you were there? Curious.

Regardless, Ponehenge is still one of the greatest mysteries in all of academia. Starswirl wrote whole essays and studies on the thing, most all of which were lost to time, and even his latest research that touches on it basically reads like a literary shrug. Was it built by the mysterious, and borderline fictional, Alicorn Tribe? Was it the result of neolithic Grazer-Gatherers dedicating a spot to their ancestral religion? Was Discord bored? Nopony knows!

Trixie didn't realize it was Ponehenge the first time, Journal, but sometimes useful information filters down through one of Twilight's ~~interm intro int~~ really long lectures.

Well, for a moment, at least, Swirly and I could take a long moment, and breathe.

And then, scream.

~~Trixie~~

I'm not proud of what happened next, Journal. I was just so angry and frustrated. And once I realized that Swirly had tossed out basically everything we'd picked up back in Hyneighria, I was downright furious. We had some of the food left, and a few of the costumes and some rope. But that was basically it.

The fireworks? A smoking crater.

The mirrors? Shattered somewhere down the road.

The trick-chest I'd gotten Firefly to make? Busted.

Besides a few card tricks and some bits and bobs, Trixie's show was down to my and Swirly's costumes.

And all the money was gone.

Well. Except for that last silver bit. So. Yay.

I said some things, Journal. Things I wish I could take back now. I screamed, I yelled, and I hollered. Most of it was at Life, in general, and our circumstances, in particular.

But I know what I said to Swirly. I called him stupid. I said he didn't think before he acted. I said I regretted taking him along with me. I called him a terrible apprentice.

I'm stupid, Journal. Trixie never thinks before she acts. I just do things because ~~it will show up Sparkle~~

I do stupid things, because I'm stupid. And short-sighted. And prideful, without earning it. No wonder Grey Prancer gave up on me. I'm a terrible pony, and Swirly's life would have been better without me in it.

And I know this, because after I sent him to bed, I got a good look at the wagon. The whole side of it's been torn to shreds by claws and teeth. And if any one of those Timberwolves had gotten closer, bit through any more of the side, I wouldn't be writing in you right now.

I'm going to apologize to him. Tomorrow.

I just hope he can forgive me.

Swirly's sick. Can't talk now. Will write soon.

Uh, day 15.

Day 16. I made Swirly as comfortable as I could, but the wagon ~~is~~ was really off-kilter with the missing wheel. I knocked out the rest so the wagon would lie flat. Bundled him up in whatever cloth we had, and tried cooking some soup.

Didn't have the right ingredients, so I went out into the woods. Stupid Timberwolves. Almost caught me once, but I know their game now! Can't follow me back into the ruin. One tried, actually. Hit some sort of shimmering barrier and--

Swirly's up. Gotta go.

~~Day~~ Day ~~eig~~ ~~Seven?~~

Trixie lost count.

Heven't slept. Swirly's still sick. One of the wolves almost took off my tail. It's fine, -ish. I managed to grow most of it back. I'm glad I listened to Zecora whenever I went through Ponyville. There's some good herbs and roots out here for healing, if you know where to look.

Don't know if Swirly would be as good as he is without it.

He still hasn't worken up.

Guess I can take a nap, then.

Zecora gave Trixie lessons in first-aid and medicine when Trixie had to get a first-aid emergency certification for that Firefighter career that went so smoothly. About half of Ponyville’s set up to give the certification, and Zecora wasn’t the first pony Trixie went to. She was just the one who Trixie didn’t drive insane before the mandatory thirty-minute lesson was over.

I got a little anxious, reading that part. If you recall reading Daring Do and the Curse of the Iron Monkey, Caballeron and I were forced to survive a month together in the jungle, bound by the mystical curse of the Iron Monkey Goblet. What I ended up leaving out of the book was the three days I spent nursing him back to health after he caught the Red Fever.

Sure, he was still the Bad Guy back then. But, watching him waste away, listening to him cry for his mom when he was hallucinating, it scared me to death. Add to Trixie’s case that she’s caring for a foal here, and I don’t know how I’d handle it.

Trixie really doesn't know where to begin. Trixie needs to talk about what happened. I need to. But there's nopony. Starswirl already knows. ~~Wish that never happened, but then that was kind of the problem~~

Then, it's you, Journal. But nopony will ever believe me. Heck, I wouldn't. And I'm me! The Lovable and Truthful Trixie!

So. Where to begin? The beginning makes sense.

After Swirly got sick, and I'd spent a couple of days nursing him the best I could, I laid down to nap, before I had to go out again. Timberwolves were chumps, but they were mean chumps. Even Maud takes them seriously, and I once saw her bury a pack of them under a mountain. Still don’t know how she managed to lift that thing.

Pie things, Trixie guesses. None of them are normal.

It was Hyneighria again. I swear, I'd been having that dream ever since the attack, and it never got easier. Everything was on fire, again. And I could hear everypony's screams, again. I’d really forgotten what having nightmares was like, living at the same time as Princess Luna. I can remember calling out to her in that dream, wishing she’d show up, before remembering that she couldn’t. I was all alone in my dreams.

Or, so I thought.

Before, I kept seeing glimpses of the Princesses in my dreams. Memories, I thought. At least, until Luna actually showed up, walking through a wall of fire that had consumed Mayor Sparkleshine’s home. For the first time in a while, I had a familiar face in front of me.

"I wish you were really here, Princess,” I sighed, “I could use your help right about now."

The Dream-Princess looked at me funny. She scrunched up her nose, smiled, and said, "Well. I am here now. Pray, what hath happened that thy dreams would be so tragic? Let me mend thy heart, my little pony."

Took me a whole minute to realize she was talking to me. I barely remember if the flames had stopped burning in the town, or if they were still going. I think they faded away, but who knows? I suppose Trixie should, but I was distracted. Get off my back, Journal!

~~That was combative. Trixie apologizes.~~

"Huh," I shrugged, "If you were the real Luna, maybe. But you’re just a figment of my incredible, stupendous, and ingenious imagination."

She smiled, in that frustratingly perfect way Princesses do, "Oh? You speak very strangely. Yet verily, 'tis I. Princess Luna. I have finally retaken my place as the Protector of Dreams, the Dreamwalker. I know thou think’st Dreams and Nightmares be all in thy mind, but I am here to help."

"No, you're not," I sighed, again, "Princess Luna won't even be born for a couple hundred years! Assuming I don’t screw that up too!"

Now, that got her attention. The Dream-Luna's eyes shrank, and her jaw dropped.

"F-forgive Us," she said, in that way you just knew was using the Royal We, "We would have your name? Who... are you?"

Proof, once again, that this was a nightmare. How could anypony not know of the Great and Powerful Trixie? Much less Luna! I know the whole coma thing put a strain on our relationship, but Trixie knew perfectly well that the Princess had visited her dreams many times before. Once Trixie had mastered the Lucid Dreaming spell Starlight taught me, she was almost constantly aware of the Royal’s spying on my dreams.

I’d always been a little comforted by that. Like I had a secret super-fan. And now, having her pretend not to know me, I was sure this was all a nightmare.

As Appleseed might say, “Hoo boy!”

I think she meant Applejack.

Also, my mind is being blown right now.

“Ha!” said Trixie, conjuring her original hat and cape, “Naturally, a nightmare wouldn’t know to whom it was speaking! But you happen to be in luck, for the Great and Powerful Trixie requires a distraction from her temporal sojourn!”

Fireworks went off, the bass band played, I pulled out all the stops.

"Trixie Lulamoon?" Luna asked, wide-eyed, and star-struck, no doubt, "You are... Trixie Lulamoon?"

"The one and only!" I said, "Feast your eyes upon my greatness! I am the Greatest Showmare! I conquered the Moonshot Manticore Mouth Dive, and Time itself! But, I can understand a pathetic nightmare not knowing about me.”

Dream-Luna shook her head, and shouted (yes, she shouted at me!), "I am no mere shade or conjuration of the mind! I am Princess Luna! The Alicorn of the Night! And I have heard of you, villain!"

I rolled my dream-eyes at that. Even in my dreams, it would seem that Trixie is followed by hecklers.

"Yes..." Luna frowned at me, and tilted her head like she was trying to figure out a scam, "I have heard of you. Thou were't a confidence mare..."

"I am pretty confident," I said, now that the dream was back on track, recognizing Trixie's brilliance.

"... Thou were the knave who caused the accident with the Ursa Minor!" she snarled, "Our Sister's student, Twilight Sparkle, had to save the township of Ponyville from your gloating-troubles!"

"First of all!" Trixie declared, getting really tired of this dream by now, "Princess Twilight forgave Trixie for that business a long time ago! Heck, that was even before the stupid Alicorn Amulet thing! Admittedly, not one of my best ideas."

Trixie started marching forward and, right on cue, Luna began to back off.

"And secondly, it was those idiots Snips and Snails who got the Ursa Minor! I was just trying to put on a show, and deal with neighsayers! Why am I even bothering to tell you this!? You're just me in a wig!"

Princess Luna had started backing up from me, right up until she was about to fall back into a burning building. Then, she stopped, and stared at Trixie like she'd never seen me before.

I remember wishing the dream would make up its mind about that.

"The Alicorn Amulet?" she asked, "Princess Twilight...? Trixie, what did thou sayest about... conquering time?"

"Come on, Dream," I sighed, "Stop horsing around!"

Then, pointing a hoof at Luna, I asked it, "What year do you think it is?"

Luna hesitated a moment. "By My Sister's reckoning, it is the one-thousandth-one-hundredth-and-fourth year of Our Dominion."

"No," I explained, "That was when I first came through Ponyville. It’s Eleven-Thirteen!"

"Trixie..." Luna narrowed her eyes at me, "Thou were driven from Ponyville only three months past."

That gave Trixie pause. No nightmare, no matter how insidious and pervasive, would have kept up such a charade this long. And Trixie had taken notes from Starlight before on dream-magic. If this wasn’t Luna, then she was breaking several laws of dreaming to be as convincing as she was.

I was getting worried when the Princess spoke again.

"Trixie, didst thou actually travel back through Time?"

"What do you think I've been saying? I've been hoofing it through the Everfree since Hyneighria with Swirly!"

Luna took a quick look around, and seemed to become more, and more, alarmed as she did so. She didn't say anything for almost a whole minute, which was very rude, if you ask me, but I’m used to rude Princesses by now.

Finally, she whispered, "Hyneighria… 'Tis the same."

"The same what?" I asked, very under-control and not confused or panicking at all.

"As when last Starswirl asked me to mend the nightmares of his... Swirly?"

"Well," I shrugged, "It feels weird calling somepony who only comes up to my belly Starswirl the Bearded, you know?"

Luna's face looked like she'd just watched one of my old high-wire routines. Or if she remembered my Throwing routine, though I was starting to suspect she couldn’t. She paled immediately, and her jaw hung from the rest of her head. I had half a mind to dream up some birds to land in it, like a feeder.

"Trixie..." she seemed like she was about to say more, and confirm what Trixie was already starting to dread...

When the dream ended!

Everything Trixie just said, or implied, is impossible. Like, totally, completely flying in the face of logic, reason, and all modern magical theories of how Time and Dreams work.

I even checked with Luna. And you know what? Do you know what she said?

“Death is Dream’s other kingdom, where Time means naught, and in strange aeons, even Death may die.”

She then gave me the raspberry, knocked my pith-hat off my head, and yelled ‘Spoilers’ while she flew off to somepony else’s dream.

Princess Luna got weirder in retirement.

I know! It was so annoying! Like, everything started shaking, and glowing, and Luna said something about finding me again, and--

Whatever. It's not important. Not yet. Maybe never. No, what was really important, and what I have to write down, is what I met when I woke up.

When I woke up, it was very suddenly. I remember thinking that I might have fallen out of my hammock again, before I realized that I’d fallen asleep on the floor. But, for some reason, I was floating in the air, with a light-green aura holding me up in the middle of the cabin!

I’d seen that shade of green once before, when I cast my disappearing-reappearing spell back in Twilight’s castle.

Swirly was still sleeping in his hammock when I was ripped through the open door, and into the night. And the night was frigid! I landed hard in the wet grass around Ponehenge’s stones, and I could just feel my fur turning into icicles, like that!

When I tried to move, there was this weight atop me. The aura hadn’t gone away, and was now pinning me down. I tried to push back with my own magic, but it was like trying to lift Holder’s Boulder.

“Trixie Lulamoon!” a voice thundered throughout the dark.

I stopped. There, standing in the center of the stones atop the empty pool thingie, was the most amazing creature I’ve ever seen. A completely silver Alicorn, with her mane as ethereal as the Princesses’, wrapped in bronze armor that made her look like a War-goddess. She was beautiful, and terrible, all at once!

Trixie couldn’t move. Not from the aura, but from the fear in me. I’d never seen an Alicorn so tall. ~~Sweet Celestia,~~ even Princess Celestia wouldn’t come up much higher than her chin! And I’m including the horn!

And her fiery blue eyes were burning in my direction.

“Interloper,” she said, “You have wounded Time enough! By my authority, as the Princess Aeva, Alicorn of Time, I sentence you to Oblivion!”

Okay, so, I was salivating when I first read this part, and I think you are too, Your Majesty. Princess Aeva!? I have a few findings I’ll bring up later, but in that moment, I was positively screaming.

But then, as I started turning the page, a couple slipped out, and fell to the floor. Once I got them back in order, I realized something: they weren't Trixie's writing! Like before, Starswirl had started writing little notes and observations in the journal sometime long after his adventures with Trixie. It appears as though he had a lot to say this time.

And I told you before, since I have to edit this monster of typos, plot holes, and mixed metaphors, I was going to do it how I wanted. And that means, I've taken the liberty of cutting up Starswirl's account and filtering it in, chronologically, where it would fit.

It fits surprisingly well.

I recall that the fever broke in the middle of the night. I awoke, briefly, to see you sleeping nearby. It didn’t take long to realize what you’d been doing for me, for however long I was out. I can remember feeling at peace there, beside you, for the first time since my family was taken.

I dozed off, but only for a short time. Your shrieks, as you were ripped from the wagon, stirred me to wakefulness, and I followed quickly.

Though, I fear to say this, and know not why, for you can never know what went through my mind then, but I was stricken to silence by the sight of that creature. I’d never seen an Alicorn in the flesh, and the sounds you were making when she grabbed you took the heart from me.

I hid beneath the wagon, and spied upon you, for a time.

“What did Trixie do!?” I’m not proud of the way she’d startled me, but anymare can be taken unawares by a sneak attack. I’m sure I would have gotten myself back under control, given enough time.

But this Aeva wouldn’t be doing that.

“As I have said,” she ~~said~~ huffed, “You, Interloper, have meddled with the timestream. You have brought about calamity and chaos wherever you have gone, and you have disrupted the natural order of the world.”

“But, like, specifically!” I said back, “Also, I didn’t mean to do all that! I just…”

“Ignorance is no excuse!” she snapped, and then she began to pace around the clearing, saying, “You have, no doubt, traversed the timeline in order to somehow defeat the terrible monster, Grogar. That, as much as I wish otherwise, cannot be allowed to happen. He has been given Dominion.”

Much of what was said went completely over me at the time, but as you and she talked, the more I began to realize things were not as I had been made aware of them. This talk of Time? And the changing of destiny? Madness, I thought.

Oh, how ignorant I was. I wish I could have been left to imagine you a savior self-sent, the wizard of prophecy to cast down the Ram. But as you and the Princess spoke, the more I realized this was not the case.

“Wait, look!” I tried to get the silver drama queen’s attention, “I didn’t come back here to defeat Grogar, or whoever! It was an accident. And, if you’re the Alicorn of Time, or whatever, then… then you can fix this all anyway, right!?”

The aura let up, and Trixie was able to get back on her hooves. I looked up, hopefully, at the towering silver Princess.

“Of course, I can fix it,” she spoke in a stately voice.

“Well, that’s great! You can take me back to the future, and forget about this whole thing!”

The scowl on her face did not give me much hope once I’d said that.

“I shall fix this calamity,” she said, coolly, “By erasing you from history!”

I was completely shocked by what I’d heard, though not so shocked as you clearly were by her words. I could see your face fall from my angle, and my heart fell with it.

“But, but why!?” you shouted, as much in panic as in anger, “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong!”

“But you did!” Aeva snapped back, still pacing around you in a predatory circle, “Once I became aware of your tricks and your crimes, I tallied a list! Would you care to hear it?”

She leapt up to the top of a nearby stone, as though she weighed nothing at all, and began to speak with the acidity of a lawyer trying a murderer.

“The village of Hyneighria was made aware of the existence of coins from the future,” she began, “The appearance of a Wizard caused Bray to turn to Grogar. And then, Grogar slew the inhabitants and burned the town. This was before you interfered yet again with Starswirl the Bearded!”

“I saved Swirly’s life! How is that meddling or whatever!?”

“Starswirl should have gone on to be Hyneighria’s chief Sorcerer,” Aeva shook her head, and snorted, “It was not his fate to die for another hundred years, at least! And saving him after that fate was changed was yet another alteration to what is becoming a dangerously corrupt timeline!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It couldn’t be true. Time travel was impossible! Galen of Pegamon said so!

I thought this, until you next spoke.

“Some Time Alicorn you are!” I couldn’t help but snap back, “Swirly’s still around back when I’m from! And he’s the greatest wizard who ever lived!”

“Confuse me NOT with your contemptible lies!” Aeva leapt back into the circle of stones, and her magic began to flare up around us.

“Wait,” I said, “What’s going on!?”

“I have seen the errant strand in the weave of fate,” she said, almost quietly, “And I shall now pluck it loose!”

Instantly, light filled my vision, and the world melted around us. It didn’t last long, barely a moment, but it felt so much longer than that. So many things flitted through my vision that I could hardly separate them all. But more than a few hourglasses passed by me in that short moment of non-time.

When we landed, I had a sudden terrible, terrible sense of déjà vu. I’d crashed down onto a slightly sticky, red-carpeted floor. There were tables all around, where ponies in suits and dresses were happily eating away at passable soups and salads, while laughter filled the halls.

It was a music hall.

“This is Cartnegie Hall,” I whispered to myself, looking up at the fancy columns, and the huge, legendary stage!

It didn’t hit me, just yet, why we were there. I was too enraptured by the sights, the smells! Just up on the stage, the Marks Brothers were finishing up an act I would have killed to see from the start. Music was playing them off, and all the ponies around us were cheering and stamping and—

Right. Aeva.

Cartnegie Hall is the premier musical theater (and for a brief time in the late 1,080’s, a Dinner and a Show) in all of Equestria. The Marks Brothers, in particular, got their start there doing variety acts and comedies. They’re really underrated these days. I never got why the Three Stallions became more popular.

Sorry. But Grouchy Marks’s material is too good to not take a moment and praise, one author to another.

I couldn’t begin to understand what I was looking at. A grand hall, filled with Lords and Ladies feasting. While, on a large stage, some fools danced and joked and played their merry tunes. It was all so confusing.

And then, it became terrifying, as one of the wait-staff stepped through me! It was as though I was a ghost!

I suppose, judging from how you also jumped when that waiter walked through you, that you’d noticed.

“We are as ghosts,” the Princess said, standing impassively in the center of the hall, “They can neither see nor hear us, and only my magic shall prevail while in this place.”

“But, why are we here?” I asked, a knot forming in the pit of my stomach.

I knew the answer before she gave it.

“Your mother is performing tonight, in this…” she looked about, like she was confused, “… Ponies?”

“Well, where else would she perform?” I asked.

Aeva shrugged, and continued, “Your father, if I read this right, shall fall in love seeing her dance, and they shall begin to court.”

Her ancient eyes turned back to me, and all I could do was shiver beneath her gaze.

“You shall be born one year hence, a month after their nuptials. I aim to prevent this, by forcing the young Spectacle to trip, and ruin her performance.”

“But, you can’t!” I cried out.

“I assure you, Trixie, and for the last time,” Aeva began charging her horn, as the piano music started, “I can.”

Journal, I can’t tell you how scared Trixie was at that moment. I knew I couldn’t stop her. I knew she could do whatever she wanted. But when she said she was going to ruin my momma’s show—

I don’t know. I know my heart felt like it was exploding. And, if there was anything I could get from all this, I knew now was the moment. Call it an instinct, but if Dad had done anything for me at all, it was to teach me how to cheat somepony good. How to see their weaknesses and play them for a chump.

It’s just, I wasn’t playing to win. All I wanted was to not lose. And that meant I had to play for Swirly. If I could win for him, then whatever happened next, would be for him.

I was the one who took his family away from him.

But maybe, I could get it back?

“Don’t hurt my mom!” you cried out, and wrapped your forelegs around the Princess’ hindleg in a tight, weeping hug, “Do something to Jackpot! Just don’t hurt Mom!”

I was still out of sight, and covering my mouth to not make a sound. Which would have been impossible if I hadn’t taken action. Watching you cry so, watching a pony I thought was so strong break down into a weeping mess. I don’t know if I could have stopped myself another way.

But I saw Aeva’s eyes. She turned, and looked at you with such surprise. I know you couldn’t see it, pressing your face into her flank as you were, snot and tears running free. I’d like to think she was startled by your sincerity.

“You care not if I prevent your parents’ meeting?” she asked, perplexed as I was.

“My mom,” I wept, “She went through a lot, putting up with him, and with me. She was always sick, and I didn’t help.”

What was there left, but the truth?

“She doesn’t deserve any more pain because of me,” I said, not caring about all the snot and tears getting into Aeva’s fur, “I can’t let you hurt her. Please. I’ll go quietly. But not this way.”

It has taken me years to realize it. But thinking back on that day, I can clearly now see that every time you said the word ‘Mom’, which I took to mean, ‘Mother’, the Alicorn’s face twitched, and her ears hung lower on her head.

I won’t lie, and say that I understand. But, now having two little ones in the other room as I write this, maybe I can see a little of what was going through her head then.

And then, you said, “Will this bring back Swirly’s family?”

Curse me, for a singular moment, my heart flurried to life. A fire burned in my breast, and my whole self became lighter than air.

I hate myself for that. For feeling that way for even a moment. I’m so sorry, Trixie. Sometimes, when the nights are dark, and cold, I think back to that moment, and I wonder if fate saw that, and went on to punish me later for it.

I miss you, Trixie. Oh, so much.

“… Yes,” she said, with hesitation.

Finally, under control, I stepped back and tried to wipe myself off. Since none of the napkins around me were solid, I had to make do with my foreleg.

“Good enough,” I said, “If you spill some of my dad’s wine, or something, he’ll probably leave without waiting. His suit and tie were always more important to him than anything else. Especially me.”

I thought, for a moment, that Aeva’s eyes were looking at me, softly. But it must have been a trick of the light.

“What is this place, Trixie?” she looked around, staring at all the ponies here for a show, “I cannot imagine Grogar would allow his slaves such luxuries.”

“Slaves? In Equestria?” you said. I was amazed. So, this was the Equestria you’d spoken so highly of? Its wealth was obvious, if even regular ponies could afford to eat so, and be entertained while the feasting went on.

“Equestria?” Aeva frowned, “What be that?”

“Equestria,” I said, stating the blindingly obvious, “You know? A thousand years in the future? The land of ponies? Ruled by the Alicorn Princesses?”

Aeva snarled again, “I said not to lie to me!”

“How am I lying!?” I shot back, “You’re the one who can time travel here! I only could because of Starlight.”

“I shall be dealing with the Anathema in my own…” the Princess looked peeved. Like, really upset with something I’d said. She stamped her hooves a few times, and said, “Why should I deign to look upon a future dominated by that fiend, Grogar?”

“Grogar’s dead, you moron!”

For a moment, I thought she’d kill you, right then and right there. The Princess stood still, like a statue. Even though there was music playing, and ponies cheering all around us, it felt like the whole world was holding its breath.

“That…” she said, so slowly that one wondered if an age could fall between one word and the next, “… is impossible. Grogar was meant to rule these lands in perpetuity, after the Betrayal.”

“Yeah,” I raised an eyebrow, “Tell that to Celestia and Luna.”

I really wish I hadn’t said that, Journal. My neck’s still sore from where Aeva’s magic snapped around it like a vice. Once again, I was being hoisted up, into the air, and once again I was staring into some bright, and blazing eyes.

“How do you know those names!?”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew there would be consequences, but the shame burning in my gut was too great. I’d dared think

It doesn’t matter. It never did.

“Stop!” I cried out, “Leave her alone!”

Oh, crap. If we both disappear in the next five minutes, tell Trixie I hate her. I know that’s not how time travel works, but it’s how I feel.

“Swirly!?” you choked out. One or the other must have shocked Aeva back to her senses, for her rage cooled quickly, and she let you down.

I’d never wanted a hug from you more, up until that point. And I don’t know this for certain, but I’ve always wondered if, in my dreams, it isn’t you holding me there as well, keeping me safe.

“Oh, Swirly! I…”

I will admit, Journal. Trixie’s brain broke for a second.

“SWIRLY!?”

I knew we’d have to have a talk about everything eventually, but in that one moment, I cared not a wit. You and I were together, and nothing some Time-controlling Alicorn said was going to change that.

And then, the world was light again.

Thankfully, this time, it didn’t end with me crashing into a ghost music hall or something.

Actually, it was worse. Very worse. Like, the worst thing besides being erased, worse.

We were at a coronation.

Her Coronation.

It was like nothing else! Marble halls decorated in gold, armored knights proudly standing before a crowd of thousands, and a small host of Alicorn Princesses upon the dais! It was magnificent!

It was horrible.

“Oh, why did you have to pick this one?” Trixie groused nobly, “You could have at least done the one where Trixie got her medal! That one was nice too!”

Trixie casually referring to the medal ceremony after she helped save Equestria from the Changelings as a coronation. Classy.

I could hear the choirs starting up that ‘Behold’ song. I hated that song. I mean, good for Twilight. Well done. A bit boring, but that’s you.

Trixie realized, however, at that moment, that she should stop talking. One rule of Grey Prancer’s was to ‘always leave them wanting more’. Another was, ‘know when it’s time to shine, and when it’s time to walk away’.

This was the latter.

Aeva looked utterly gobsmacked. I could perfectly understand the slack-jawed, baffled look she was giving the other Princesses, standing up on the dais with Twilight’s friends. Though, in my opinion, that look should have been reserved for the mares marching up the aisle, holding up those purple banners, and singing ‘Behold!’

Like we needed to be reminded.

“Celestia?” the silver Alicorn sounded distraught, vulnerable, “Luna? By the light… what is this?”

She turned back to you, and asked again, “Trixie! Explain this! This cannot be!”

“Of course, it ‘be’,” I said, as evenly as I could, trying not to upset the clearly freaking-out super-magical Alicorn Princess, “This is my home. This is where I came from, give or take a couple years.”

“But it cannot!” she cried again, and swiped at the air with one of her wings, like she could turn some giant page to see something else.

And, well. She did. It was weird. Like, the whole world just slid around us, almost like when I tried learning the tablecloth pull trick. Trixie is grown up enough to admit that, seeing as how neither I nor Swirly shattered into a million pieces, she pulled it off a little better.

She flipped a page, and we were in Ponyville.

It was so strange, to see a place that felt so much like home again, but not. Everything was colored pink and yellow, as though money grew on the trees for these ponies! Astonishing! Was this the Equestria you spoke so longingly about?

Heck, I could have reached out and smacked a passing Bonbon, if I wanted to. But, Princess Aeva didn’t look to be in the mood. She was much more focused on what appeared to be Princesses Luna, Cadance, and Sparkle, flying around and scraping gold and gemstones off of everything in sight.

I have no idea what that was about, Journal, but I really wish I’d been there.

I heard about that! Rarity, of all ponies, got into some sort of dark magic, right? I remember the headlines. Apparently, Ponyville dump had to be reclassified as a dark magic burial site, and had sixteen layers of steel and cement thrown over it.

Aeva seemed really focused on Luna, I noticed.

She flipped the page again, and we were in Manehattan. Winter in Manehattan. Bitter, awful, winter in Manehattan.

And apparently, whatever freaky magic thing Aeva was doing didn’t keep us warm.

It must have been a Pegasus city! Why else would it be so cold? And so tall!? I wish I’d asked to see the blueprints, or to speak with their grand architect. So many questions I would have had!

But, Princess Aeva was only focused on the white and dark-blue Alicorns who were surrounded by stallions and mares-at-hooves, all clamoring for their approval for something I could not even recall now.

Eugh, Journal. I recognized immediately what it was. Celestia and Luna both came up a few years ago to help the city keep warm after the magic power plant broke down, and Cloudsdale refused to bring in warmer weather. I remember because I was stuck in a rinky-dink apartment for four months while they tried to fix it.

It might have been colder in the apartment, but right now I was freezing on the street, while the Princess gawked at the buildings, and at the Princesses, coordinating relief efforts.

I was about to lose it, Journal! But then, she flipped the page again. And now we were in some Podunk backwater. Yes, worse than Ponyville! It might have been Appleloosa, even, but I didn’t care! The heat was phenomenal!

The heat was the worst. Or, perhaps not entirely the worst. Unlike before, with this shift in the world, I could feel a terrific pounding begin somewhere behind my eyes. I’m sure I startled you terribly when we shifted again, and the pain grew too great.

The page flipped, and we were in somewhere. I was just about fed up with this Alicorn, time-erasure or no! The only reason I didn’t haul her down to my level and give her Trixie’s Patented Put-Down was because there was a thump on the ground next to Trixie, and my blood ran cold.

“Swirly!” I tried to wake the colt up, “Swirly, speak to me!”

He muttered something; I couldn’t hear what. I tried checking his pulse, his eyes, even pulled down his tongue to check. All I could tell was he was in a lot of pain.

It only took a quick first-aid spell to figure out what was really wrong with him.

“It’s this time-travel,” I realized. He was burning up, even though we were in a cool, autumn forest, of all places. And his head was clearly pounding with the pressure of all this magic. He couldn’t survive it! Heck, I wouldn’t either!

I told that to the Alicorn, but Aeva couldn’t see or hear anything now.

“No,” she just kept saying to herself, tears streaming down her face, “No, no, no, no!”

She flipped the world again, and we were at Mount Rushmare. Then the Leaning Tower of Pinto. Hamsterdam. Burrlin. That awesome Burger Princess ~~right down the street from~~

We were going everywhere, is my point. And my head was throbbing too, by now. The stress of jumping through time like that was going to tear us apart.

I screamed as much at the crazy Princess.

She couldn’t hear me. All she did was jump around the universe, always zooming in on fancy buildings, cities, and even occasionally parties and celebrations. But it always came back to the Princesses.

Why was she crying? I asked myself. Why was she crying over Celestia and Luna?

I didn’t get an answer then, as the headaches grew, and darkness claimed me.

(You can probably tell I didn’t die, Journal, but that was too cool of a transition to miss!)

An Alicorn of Time. A Princess. And one that was fascinated by Celestia and Luna? I’ll give you three guesses as to what’s up, and the first two don’t count.

I finally came to in a fog. Well, a haze. ~~A mental~~

Right, enough. I woke up with a throbbing headache, and a layer of cold mist on my coat. So, it was Maredi Gras all over again. Only this time, I was ~~wet, cold, trapped outside with a crying mare~~

Okay, so it was Maredi Gras.

I managed to pull myself up to a standing position before I even opened my eyes. I’m not sure if time had moved at all from the moment Aeva’d shown up, to whenever now was. It was still night/early-morning, and we were still stuck at Ponehenge.

Swirly was lying just a few feet away from me. He was completely out of it, but I wasn’t looking to wake him. Not yet.

No, Trixie had some business with the silver Alicorn bent over, weeping, into the shallow pool at the center of the standing stones. And by business, ~~Trixie~~ I mean that I was ready to put the Great and Powerful hurt on that mare.

Well, I was. Really, Journal. I had had it up to here with getting yelled at and almost erased by that blowhard, and she couldn’t even keep her cool during whatever that had been.

Though, Trixie was no fool. So, I started looking for a decent sized rock. I could be sneaky, and quiet. And working on the Rock Farm had given me some well-deserved tone and strength. At least, enough to bash an Alicorn over the head with said rock.

I’m a little worried about how quickly Trixie’s mind shifts to violence as an answer. Might want to remand her for some sensitivity training or something. Then again, I’m never more violent than when I’m stuck in an anger-management class.

Records show that she worked on the Pie Family Rock Farm for several months, during which time she was apparently a favorite of the family, a hard worker, and even got to be Maud’s Best Mare and Calcifier (Crystaller-equivalent, I looked it up) for Petrification Dendrite Pie (Petra, for short).) If it weren’t for her psychotic desire to one-up you, she’d probably still be there, being the best-loved rock farmer in Equestria, apparently.

Eventually though, ~~Tri~~ I realized something was wrong. The weeping thing seemed out of character, for one. ~~Secondly, or~~

Aeva wasn’t wearing her armor anymore. I could even see her Cutie Mark, an emerald hourglass. It looked nice. Regal, even. I put down the rock I was going to use, and tried to get a better look at the Princess.

She was definitely crying. Which was infuriating. How was I supposed to get mad enough to bop somepony if they’re crying? I couldn’t, that’s how! Plus, she was doing that fake dainty-crying. You know? The one from those movies? The one’s without all the snot and gob and such?

Note to Trixie: remember to go see a movie when you get back home. There was a new Arrow Flint flick coming out just before I left, and I was going to take Starlight.

That would most likely be Arrow Flint’s last turn as Hooded Robber, the thief who stole from the rich and gave to the poor. Hooded Robber vs Daring Do was a box office flop, due in no small part to the fact that the effects were awful, early-days stuff, and I never signed off on the script. My old publishers decided to make a quick buck and called it ‘licensing’ or something stupid. Either way, Dash’s boycott finished it.

Apparently, it’s still a cult classic. The Wonderbolts play it every year at their training camp. The action scenes used Historical Pegasi Martial Arts (HPMA) or something. You’d have to ask Dash. Yes, she liked it, despite leading the opposition for my honor.

That mare cracks me up!

I remember thinking, was I still going to be erased?

I asked her about that. Oh, I was polite about it, but I still asked.

She shook her head, but didn’t say anything else at first. I was starting to wonder if I should have invited her to breakfast, when Aeva looked back up at me.

I hate puppy-dog eyes. I use those on other ponies like Starlight. But having them used against me, the Great and Lovable Trixie? Just unfair, is what it is! And hers were good at it.

Fine! I admit, I felt bad for her.

“We have wronged you… all of you,” she said. She was almost whimpering. “When the Betrayal occurred, the Alicorns were beyond furious. After what happened…”

“Uh, not to put too fine a point on it, Your Highness,” I may have said, with a touch too much sass on that last part, “But, what exactly happened?”

I really wish I never asked that, Journal. Because she told me. Trixie still gets queasy, thinking about it. And I’m not about to put it down here. I need to ask Starlight to erase it from my memory once I get back. If I get back.

Seriously, I might need to go ask Grogar about what happened at this point. Tired of getting the runaround.

“After the Betrayal,” she continued, “We Alicorns swore an oath to leave the other tribes to their fate. It was a binding oath, of which only Amore refused to make.”

Aeva turned her head, and Trixie thought she looked very sadly off towards what I assumed was north, “She gave up much to follow her heart, to defend what ponies she could.”

Princess Amore Cadenza, of the Crystal Empire. Up until now, she was considered semi-mythical. She was said to have created the Crystal Heart and ruled over the Crystal Empire for many years, before Sombra stole the throne from her, though the details are lost to time. I bet Trixie has something to do with it, of course.

Always wanted to ask: If your old foalsitter became an Alicorn, but Alicorns seem to have Alicorn kids, then what’s up with the first Cadance not founding a line of Alicorns to lead up to the current Cadance?

Smells like a plot hole to me, but this is real life, not fantasy.

“And that’s important to this apology of yours…?”

She sighed, and looked back towards me, “Grogar tricked your ancestors into committing his dark deeds for him, to spite and anger us. And we were angry. We did not consider the consequences of leaving you to his mercies. We abandoned you… and we were wrong.”

Something about what she said ~~caught my ear~~ sounded odd.

“Wait, but you can see and move through time, right?”

“Indeed,” she nodded, “that is one of my…”

“So, how’d he trick you?”

“… I beg your pardon?”

I shrugged, more to avoid biting down on my own tongue. Trixie had seen that look in Aeva’s eyes. It was not a good look. It was the look of somepony just realizing that they’d been had.

“When the… Betrayal,” I gagged, “happened, why didn’t you look around and prove he tricked the other ponies to do… that thing to your friend?”

“Well… I was angry, as I said,” she ~~said~~ admitted, “We were incensed, and not in the right state of mind.”

I clucked my tongue. I knew where this was going, and I hated it.

“So… when you figured out that I was a time-traveler… you attacked me because…?”

“You… were going to change time,” I was very upset to see that silver Alicorn blush as she said that, “And… our pronouncement was that Grogar would… have Dominion…”

I couldn’t help snorting in her face. I really couldn’t. But, once done, I figured the worst thing she could do was erase me again. So, I might have snapped a little.

“Are. You. KIDDING me right now!?”

“I can see why you’d be upset,” she said, while holding her head down, bringing it closer to my eye level, “But I was just doing my duty! As the Princess…”

“You were going to erase me!” I decided then that holding it in wouldn’t feel nearly as good as letting it out, “You can time travel and you didn’t think to check if I was doing something wrong!?”

“I didn’t realize you’d made a closed loop, or are a closed…!”

“Ignorance is no excuse!!!”

I felt like a bad-flank, tossing that gem back at her. She even flinched.

“You are right,” she sighed, and stood up, “We erred, thinking ill of our pony kin based on… on the words of a serpent.”

“But Grogar’s a ram,” I added, helpfully, “Not a snake.”

Aeva said nothing for an extended moment. Probably just too embarrassed to have missed that.

I can feel Princess Aeva’s eye-roll from here.

Then, I kid you not. She bowed. Journal, I’m not making that up!

“Trixie Lulamoon,” she said, in a formal tone of voice, “We apologize for Our intrusion, and for the pain and embarrassment We may have caused thee, as well as for the pain and suffering of all ponykind We have caused...”

“Thee?” I said, without thinking. If there’s one thing I could never stand, back in CSGU’s drama classes, it was directors and actors who kept slipping in and out of the old Ponish accents.

Either be consistent, or skip it!

Trixie was in that class for about a week before she was kicked. Apparently, Haylet, Princess of Dammark, does not have an hour-long death scene. With an extended musical number.

I actually want to see that now.

Don’t think she heard me, because she kept on talking.

“You were right. We have been in error, and must make amends. I cannot directly aide you, not with the oath that I swore…”

“Figures,” I shook my head and wondered if something was going to go right for once.

“… However,” Aeva started blinking rapidly. I still don’t know if I saw what I saw, but it looked like I saw tears in her eyes.

She continued, her voice dropping a bit, “When the threat of Grogar has passed, the ponies of… Equestria, shall need a unifying voice. An Alicorn will be necessary. Or perhaps… two.”

You’ll be proud to know, Journal, that I kept my mouth shut this time. I could tell that something was up, and Princess Aeva needed a moment to get it out.

Finally, she said, “I shall return… once Grogar is no more… and I shall entrust unto you two… two fillies…

“My fillies.”

Trixie is the reason Celestia and Luna were around to be raised by Starswirl. Trixie is the reason Equestria has Princesses. Trixie is the reason why we have Alicorns. That is fascinating. This is amazing.

I’m going to go scream into a pillow for a few days. Then, I’ll get back to annotating.

Alright. I’m back.

“How is that an apology?” I asked, “You almost erase me over a clerical error and your own screw-up… and then you want me to take care… of your…”

You’ll be prouder that I realized what I was about to say, and stopped.

Aeva leaned in, and gingerly wrapped a wing around me. It was surreal. Well, this whole night had been surreal, but this was still pretty weird even considering all that.

“This is a sacrifice I make… for all who follow you. I am hoping,” she swallowed, then said, “that my Sun and Moon will be well-cared for, and that their reign shall make amends for Our long absence and abandonment.

“Promise me, Trixie,” I could hear her voice cracking, “Promise me, you’ll do this. I owe you a debt, and a debt paid in blood is a serious thing among the Alicorns.”

I didn’t know quite what to say. How could I? I know I’m Great and Powerful, ~~but that’s all for the show~~, but this was incredible. This was historic. I’m not even going to spoil this by telling Sparkle to suck eggs.

And I was scared. Trixie has done many, many things. But none of them were like this. Raising kids? Alicorn kids? I’m not an idiot, Journal. I could read between the lines. ~~Even~~ I ~~could figure out~~

Naturally, I knew what was being asked of me. The Great and Powerful Trixie that I am.

“I don’t do diapers,” I said, “Just so you know.”

She was quiet, for a moment.

“Perhaps I shall wait until Starswirl is older,” she whispered, though with my Great and Powerful senses, I could hear her just fine.

“I guess this means you’re not gonna let me go home just yet?”

“No, Trixie,” she said, while stepping back and away from me, “You are part of events that must play out, for good and ill. I fear much ill will befall you, in particular.”

“Gee, thanks,” I sighed, “That makes me feel better about this.”

“It should,” I swear, I caught a twinkle in her eye, “You’re strong enough to handle what comes next, I feel. And with Swirly by your side, and your wagon…”

“Joke’s on you,” I grumbled, and turned around, “The wagon’s…”

That’s right, Journal. Ellipses. Shock, and confusion.

Because, just beyond where Swirly lay asleep, Trixie’s wagon stood, as good as the day I’d gotten it! The wheels were back on, and the axle was fixed. Even the scratches and gouges in the side were gone!

It was miraculous! It was amazing!

“Did you have anything to do with this, Princess?” I stammered, in shock.

And I got no response. None at all.

I turned around, and Aeva was gone, leaving behind only the soft glow of sunrise as it began to filter through the trees.

“That’s not impressive!” I called out to the ether, “I can do that too!”

I waited a few more minutes, just in case a ‘ta-da’ was forthcoming. But, when it didn’t happen, I made a calculated, calm, and considerate ~~sprint~~ run at the wagon, during which I did not giggle like a filly.

Inside, everything was as it should have been. Sure, the fireworks and the money were still gone. But the mirrors were unbroken. The clothes and capes were back in storage, untorn and unblemished.

It was almost perfect.

Almost.

“Trixie?”

I turned, and spotted Swirly at the wagon’s door. He looked like he’d been sick for days, and then nearly killed through temporal overpressure. It was a very specific look.

I could see it in his eyes.

“Yes, Swirly?”

“We need to talk.”

Twilight re-read the last page again. It was her eighth time doing so, and she had gotten exceedingly good at it.

Trixie Lulamoon had revealed her time-traveling status to a twelve-year-old Starswirl the Bearded. She had been nearly erased from the Time-Space Continuum. And then, upon pointing out how the Alicorn of Time had blindly followed her tribe’s rules without thinking about them, set up the basis for Starswirl to, assuming history remained on track, adopt and raise Princesses Celestia and Luna.

The Princess of Friendship lay back down on her bed, and began to scream into one of her pillows. There were several hours left until sundown was due to occur. That gave her almost enough time to vent one-one-hundredth of the physical and existential pain gripping her soul, just then.

Around hour two, however, there was a sudden, frantic knocking at her door. She only heard it because she’d just taken a breath a moment before.

Deciding that she would have eternity to wail over Trixie’s cannonball-like nosedive through the timestream, Twilight collected herself, and calmly called out, “The door is open!”

The door, indeed, opened. Hard enough, in this case, to definitely crack the wall next to it.

In rushed Twilight’s most faithful of companions, the bulwark of friendship that was Spike, the Brave and Glorious, Advisor and Friendship Ambassador, as well as Sparkle Sibling Supreme.

But at that moment, he did not exude his usual air of knowledgeable confidence. Spike’s eyes were red, and wet, and, from the way he shook with every breath, it looked like he’d come bearing dark tidings, at a dead sprint.

“It’s Trixie,” he said, holding out a scroll that made Twilight’s heart sink like lead.

“She’s at Ponyville General…”

Author's Note

Deleted Scene:

The world settled, and Trixie could see it was still Canterlot Palace, though all the decorations were for Nightmare Night.

I wonder, at times, what is going to happen in my near future that so terrorizes Celestia that chickens of all creatures would scare her to her wit’s end.

“Lunaaa!” the Princess of the Sun cried, literally cried, as she galloped through the halls, and right through us, “Sto-o-o-op it!!!”

She was being chased by her sister, the majestic Princess Luna, Alicorn of the Moon.

In a chicken outfit.

Present Day - Hayburgers, First Dates, and Accepting Mortality

The noonday sun was shining brightly over the town of Ponyville as the doors to the Castle of Friendship swung open, and some of its occupants made a hasty exit from the premises. First, as the doors swung open, a pair of fantastically-and-mystically-dressed ponies, the Great and Powerful Trixie and her apprentice, Starswirl the Bearded, sauntered into town, tails entwined, and eyes made only for one another.

Following them closely, and quickly surpassing them, sprinted Starlight Glimmer, panic in her eyes, and Spike, the Brave and Glorious, held aloft in her magical aura. Their flight was followed by the curious sounds of Princess Twilight’s wails of despair and anguish as she took out her temporally-induced fury on the Cutie Map Table in her throne room.

But the paired ponies had no time to consider Twilight’s latest meltdown. They were heading towards the town’s famous Burger Princess. Trixie Lulamoon had a promise to keep, and it came with hayfries and a soda.

“It’s so good to be home!” she cried. Her eyes sparkled as she took in the sights, and she walked with a joyous bounce to her step. “Nothing’s changed!”

“Trixie,” Starswirl chuckled, even his exasperated tone was brimming with gladness at the return of his mentor, “You’ve only been gone a few minutes to everycreature else.”

Trixie shrugged, “No matter! Now, if I remember correctly, there should be a sale on hayburgers this time of day. Oh!” she squealed excitedly, “You’re in for a treat, Swirly!”

“Ah, Trixie?” he leaned in as they walked together, “I haven’t gone by ‘Swirly’ for over a thousand years.”

“Well, duh!” Trixie rolled her eyes, “Trixie wouldn’t have it any other way! Starswirl is such a… dramatic name, after all. Perfect for wowing the crowds.

“I, of course,” she glanced up towards the, now, much taller stallion, “still have the privilege of referring to you by that other name?”

Starswirl grimaced, though not about the name. It had been one-thousand years, and he still couldn’t resist… that look. That pouty, sad, happy look that she used to get her way from before.

He loved that look.

“Of course,” he nodded, at last.

“Great! Now,” Trixie licked her lips, “I’m thinking of getting myself a Double, with onions and spicy hayfries in the burger. For your first time, I think we should do the classic. The Royale with Cheese!”

Starswirl winced. “Um, Trixie? About that…”

“Sure, Sparkle’s on the box, but I don’t hold that against them. I wonder if they still sell the toy, though… “

“Trixie, I’ve already…”

“Hm…” Trixie frowned in deep concentration, “We need to stop by my wagon and gets some bits, now that Trixie thinks of it. Wish I’d kept some of the local coins now. They’d probably be worth a fortune in the present…”

“Trixie!” Starswirl half-shouted.

Trixie almost tripped, but recovered quickly. They both came to a stop in the middle of the street, just down from Sugarcube Corner. She turned a startled look back towards the stallion.

He blushed. Then, in a softer voice, he said, “I… already know what a hayburger tastes like.”

She blinked.

“Oh…”

“I’ve been in this time period for a couple years now,” Starswirl tried to explain.

“No, no,” Trixie waved down his concern, “There’s nothing to apologize for. It was Trixie who missed her deadline.

“Typical Trixie,” she snorted, and looked away. She said, quietly, “Never there when you need her.”

Starswirl looked on as Trixie seemed to deflate before him. The way her eyes misted up, and the low set in her shoulders, brought a pang to his chest. He almost hissed at the sight.

He stepped forward, and carefully pulled her into a hug with one foreleg. Even compared to the sunny day around them, she was warm.

“Heh,” she chuckled, lightly, and then nuzzled into his beard, “Since when did you get so tall?”

“Growth spurt,” he smiled, sadly, “After our time. I took after my father’s side, after all.”

Trixie slowly pulled away from him, and gave a weak smile of her own.

“How…” she coughed, clearing her throat, “How long…?”

Starswirl’s smile faded, leaving only the melancholy that living for years will settle into a pony. He sighed, and closed his eyes.

“A long time. I was alone for… a long time,” he said. Then, looking back to the mare who meant so much to him, he continued.

“I spent decades studying the mystic arts, Trixie. I was determined to bring you back, no matter what it cost me.”

“But I wasn’t dead,” she tilted her head to one side.

“I didn’t know that at the time!” Starswirl’s brow knotted tight, “I thought you were, and I would do whatever it took to change that. But…”

He sighed, and for the first time, Trixie could see the lines of worry and age under his eyes. The youthful, vibrant, lively little colt she once knew had turned gray and tired beneath an avalanche of time.

“… No matter how many time-spells I created,” he whispered, voice crackling, “no matter how many times I tried to return your spirit to the mortal world, it never worked. I devoted my life to becoming the greatest wizard, ever… for you.

“My only consolation,” a smile touched his lips, and the sight of it almost ripped a cry from Trixie’s heart, “is that those efforts were unnecessary. You… came back to me.”

Though her eyes glistened, Trixie would not blink. She would not look away.

“Swirly?” she asked, “How old are you?”

At this, he snorted, and let loose a low, earthy guffaw.

Trixie frowned, “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry! Sorry,” he slowly brought his chuckling back under control, “It’s just… I don’t rightly know anymore. One thousand years in Limbo notwithstanding, a lot of my testing with Time Magic ended up with me skipping back and forth a fair bit. I’ve also got a few spells running right now that will keep me in prime form for… well, centuries, probably.”

“Hm,” Trixie hummed, “Guess that explains the silver mane…”

Starswirl glanced down at his beard. “Ah, no. I just… went silver a bit early.”

It was Trixie’s turn to snort, and hide her laughter behind a blue hoof.

“What?” Starswirl pouted, indignantly, “My mother’s side all had it… apparently. And Mistmane said it made me look distinguished…”

“Just…” Trixie took a deep breath, and composed herself, “Just tell me you’re not, like, a hundred years old, or something.”

Starswirl frowned. Then, to Trixie’s concern, he looked like he was doing a little math in his head. A few moments later, he nodded, affirmatively, and said, “I believe that I am no older than forty summers. Biologically.”

“Seriously,” she laughed, and shook her head, “How much time-screwery did you get up to while I was gone?”

Starswirl tilted his head back, and chuckled, “A lot, I suppose. I didn’t stop until…”

He grew silent. Trixie noticed, but said nothing. It was disconcerting, seeing her apprentice so melancholy and withdrawn. Not at all the jumping, jittery, excitable Swirly she once knew.

Finally, he said, “When Aeva returned, Celestia and Luna in tow, I realized that you were beyond my grasp.”

The two ponies resumed their walk. As they passed by a large fountain, Starswirl indicated one of its smooth, stone seats with a nod of his horn. Trixie reached out and held his hoof, giving him a few moments to listen to the bubbling water.

As he sat down, Starswirl sighed.

“I was already training Clover at the time. Having one rambunctious colt in my life was stressful enough, with my own studies taking up time. But now, having two Alicorn Princesses dropped in my lap? I couldn’t…”

“A colt?”

Starswirl paused. He quirked an eyebrow, and muttered, “Pardon?”

“A colt,” Trixie repeated, “You called Clover the Clever a colt.”

He looked around, as though he were expecting Rainbow Dash or Pinkie Pie to leap out and yell ‘Gotcha!’.

“I don’t understand,” he frowned, “Clover was most certainly a colt. I taught him myself. I essentially raised him!”

“Then why is Clover always played by a… oh, no…” Trixie’s eyes widened, and her breathing instantly turned shallow.

Starswirl noted the change, and started leaning in.

“Trixie?” he poked, “Are you…?”

“I changed something,” she whispered.

“You…?”

He didn’t say much else, as a pair of hooves wrapped around Starswirl’s collar, and pulled his muzzle almost to touching Trixie’s.

“This is the consequence!” she gasped, fear in her eyes, “The consequence of my meddling with History!”

“Trixie,” Starswirl sighed, “You didn’t…”

But Trixie would not be ignored. She spun around, and held up one hoof, in a dramatic pose. “It was the butterflies! The hurricane ones! I changed the events of history! Don’t you see!? If I hadn’t gone back… if I hadn’t fought Grogar, or Bray, or Sombra, then…”

A silver light appeared, and clamped down over her muzzle. Trixie squirmed, panic – and the rage of being interrupted – seizing her, for a moment.

But, as she noticed Swirly’s nonplussed expression, she began to dial it back.

“Trixie?” Starswirl held back a smile, valiantly, “If you’d changed Clover’s gender through time travel… then why do I remember the original timeline?”

That gave her pause. Trixie frowned, and scratched at her chin. Then, the logic of her apprentice’s words finally getting through, she gave a chagrined smile.

The aura faded from her mouth, and Trixie quickly said, “Sorry. I guess I was just… worried.”

“No need!” Starswirl’s horn flashed with light again, “I shall sort this out post-haste!”

A moment later, and with a faint pop, a book had materialized in the air before him. Starswirl immediately cracked open the yellow-covered tome, revealing the dark-green, four-leaf clover on the front.

“Let’s see here…” Starswirl hummed to himself as he read. Trixie waited, patiently, as she listened to him hum and murmur and ‘oh’ over and over and over again.

“We’re probably going to miss the lunch special,” she muttered darkly.

The book snapped shut, startling her. But, the look on Starswirl’s face completely arrested her attention.

He was smiling.

“Good for you, Clover,” he said to himself, “I’m happy you got that spell working.”

“Uh, Swirly?” Trixie tapped one hoof irritably, “You mind filling me in?”

“Never mind,” he said, vanishing the book in another puff of magic, “You didn’t change anything, Trixie. I just… didn’t see something clearly back then.”

He cleared his throat, and spoke again in a more… theatrical tone that caused Trixie to smile.

“Anyway… with three fillies to look out for, I realized that I had too many other responsibilities to keep chasing after your phantom. I had to found Equestria, to give you a home in that far, far distant future you showed me.”

A shadow passed across his face, and the wizened stallion glanced away. In shame or fear, Trixie couldn’t say.

Yet, she thought, sadly, though I want to make you feel better… I couldn’t be prouder of your dramatic skills, Swirly.

Starswirl clenched his jaw, and then said, “I’m not proud of what I did. I… used a memory charm to lock you away in my mind, where I wouldn’t be constantly reminded of you.”

“You…” Trixie’s throat felt dry, suddenly, “You forgot about me?”

He sucked on his cheek a moment. “I had to,” he said, pain in his eyes, “I couldn’t go through with erasing the memories, but I needed to focus! I had children, apprentices who needed me to be there for them. So, I re-read your journal…”

Trixie ‘eeped’ at this, but did not interrupt.

“… left a few of my own notes, and had one of Peachy’s grandfoals hide it in Gusty’s Tomb.”

“Where’s that?”

“No idea,” Starswirl shrugged, “My obsession with you more or less drove me away from the others.

“Anyway, that being done… I cast the charm, and that was that. And, perhaps, that was also a mistake. I can’t imagine treating Stygian as I did,” he sighed, and looked away, “Had I remembered all that you had taught me of Friendship. Maybe that, more than anything, was why I could never finish the Alicorn spell…”

As Starswirl fell silent, Trixie wiped at her eyes, and smiled.

“Trixie understands. She is, after all, a Great and Powerful distraction. It’s no wonder you had to wipe your own memories just to be able to do anything other than reflect on her… awesomeness.”

The older stallion chortled, but said nothing.

Trixie nodded, and laughed, “Well, that certainly explains why you didn’t recognize me when we met!”

Starswirl looked back to her, a quizzical eyebrow raised.

“I… wouldn’t have known you when we first met.”

“Not in the past!” she frowned, “Back in the Crystal Library! You remember? That whole craziness a few months ago?”

For the briefest of moments, for the splittest of seconds, Trixie knew something was up. Something was so very up. Starswirl’s eyes sank, slightly, into their sockets, and his lips puckered tight under his beard and mustache.

He coughed, in that very dramatic way that told Trixie he didn’t actually need to cough.

“Yes!” he said, a bit too loudly, and hopped up to his hooves, “That was… entirely what happened. Where did you say the Burger Princess was?”

“Swirly…”

“I’ve heard the Double Pickle is a real humdinger, as Big Mac keeps telling me…”

“Swirly I-don’t-know-your-middle-name the Bearded!” Trixie snarled, and stamped one hoof against the dusty ground.

Starswirl flinched at her tone, reflexively straightening up on the spot. He spun on one hoof, fast enough to get his hat-bells jingling, and came to a stop facing his old mentor.

Trixie folded her forelegs in front of her, and fixed the stallion with a scowl.

“What’s going on?”

Looking about, and finding no easy out, Starswirl sighed.

“I did recognize you,” he said, staring down at his hooves. “The memory charm wasn’t supposed to make me forget you, technically. Seeing you pop up in the Crystal Empire made it all rush back to me. But I didn’t want to risk altering the timeline, so…”

“Swirly…” Trixie warned.

Starswirl rolled his eyes, and groaned, “Alright! Alright! I…”

He looked about again. And seeing nopony near, he leaned in, as close as he could, to Trixie.

“You can’t tell anypony about this, right?”

She met his gaze, and felt the seriousness of what he was saying bear down on her. Trixie couldn’t help but see just a little bit of that little colt she’d wandered Equestria with for a year, staring back at her. But where once, she would have held his gaze, and comforted him with whatever words she had on hoof, now… she found a touch of iron, staring back. A stallion who had seen things, and done things, that would leave the rest of the world struggling to get out from under his looming shadow.

She was a little intimidated.

And proud of him, at the same time.

“A magician would never share another’s secret,” she said, a playful smirk appearing on her lips.

With his own smirk, Starswirl’s horn flared to life again. Silver light burned across his horn, and down his coat, changing all the colors in his hat and robe to gray.

Trixie watched, stupefied, as the grayness passed over to her, next. Her hooves changed first, then her legs. Her cloak soon followed, until the silver light caught up to her face.

Suddenly, the whole world was gray.

“You…” she examined her hat closely, to see how thorough the spell had been, “You created a color-filter spell? Swirly, even I can… I mean, the Great and Powerful Trixie is more than capable of…”

“Trixie, it’s fine. But, no. It’s not a color filter,” Starswirl said. Though, oddly, Trixie felt like something was off about the way he said it.

“Swirly?” she blinked, “Did you take up ventriloquism?”

Starswirl stood stock-still. He looked more like a photograph of a pony, holding his breath. At least, that’s what Trixie thought at first. His silver mane stayed as it was, but she could tell from the little details, like the tiny amount of pink and red on his cheeks that had disappeared, or how his cloak and array of golden bells were completely ashen, and still, that there was something more to this.

Then, she started noticing how the fountain had grown silent. And staring at it, she also noticed how it wasn’t moving. And how it was gray.

Everything was gray.

Including the mare in the showmare outfit standing next to her.

“Uh…”

“How do you like it?”

“GAH!”

Trixie jumped to one side, neatly fading through her own grayed-out doppelganger. Starswirl – one who wasn’t a photographic cutout, and was full of color – stood at her side, a smirking, smug grin on his face.

“What!?” Trixie swiveled her head around, “What’s…? Huh!?”

Everywhere she looked, the Ponyville she knew was utterly, and completely, devoid of color. Two pegasi flying past, in Wonderbolt finery, were mere gray streaks. The apples and carrots on display in the market may as well have been rocks on display.

Trixie looked down, and saw her own color was back.

“What is this?”

Starswirl chuckled, then held out one hoof in a dramatic wave.

“This, my dear,” he said with a flourish of his bells, “is the secret to my success!”

Trixie stared, in awe, at the towering stallion as he struck his most showpony pose. To see Swirly… her Swirly, so grown up, and so debonair…

“You froze time?”

He nodded, eyes closed.

“But… why?”

“I’ll admit,” he said, as he walked back to her side, casually passing his ghostly hoof through his own, frozen form, “There’s not a whole lot of applicability for something like this. But it gives me time to think.”

“Time to…?” Trixie’s eyes widened, “Wait… you do this often?”

Starswirl blushed, and kicked at the dirt, “You know how terrible I was at thinking on my hooves, back when. So, when I can, I like to take a moment to… plan out what I need to do.

“I was never as clever as you, or Clover,” he smiled, “But, power? Now, that I had in abundance. So why not use it a little?”

Trixie grinned, her eyes sparkling as she listened.

“And you say you’re not clever? Swirly! That’s ingenious!” she laughed, and pranced in place, “The ultimate sleight of hoof! You actually stole time! Is that how you came up with so many smart ideas?”

His smug smirk only grew.

“So, when you saw me before…?”

“I spent a few…” he coughed, “… days trying to perfect my poker face. I was serious about not letting something happen to the timeline, you know? I had to reapply the memory charm, and try very… very hard not to say or do anything that might trigger those memories.”

She smirked, “Well? Did I trigger any more of them?”

“Constantly,” he shook his head, and laughed, “I probably aged a few months, just hopping back and forth through this spell while you were around. And…”

“… And when you saw me return just today,” her smile grew, “You realized you didn’t need to hide it anymore?”

“Precisely—”

Starswirl didn’t know what hit him. For one instant – theoretically, since time wasn’t a thing at the moment, for one eternity – he was standing before his mentor, his friend, and the most beautiful mare in the world.

And in the next, she was kissing him. Her lips, pressed to his.

With a soft smeck, she pulled away, and looked up with half-lidded eyes into his own, starstruck ones.

“Hm,” she smiled, “How many stallions can say they won the affections of their foalhood crush?”

“Ah,” said Starswirl the Bearded, mightiest and wisest of Equestrian mages.

Trixie nuzzled him, gently, just under his chin.

“Alright,” she said, “I think a thousand years is long enough. By my right, as an official member of the Guild of Equestrian Magicians, I dub thee, Starswirl the Bearded. You are no longer an apprentice, my student. You are a Showpony, at last!”

“Ah.”

Trixie pecked his cheek, and then walked past the comatose stallion. She lightly flicked his nose with her tail as she did so.

“Right,” she sniffed, “I’m thinking onion rings, to celebrate!”

Twenty-Five Years Later…

It was late afternoon as Princess Twilight Sparkle’s chariot finally made its landing approach towards Ponyville. The Royal Guards who pulled at the harness, one a pegasus mare, the other a buck hippogriff, were near exhaustion from the mad pace they’d set to get here in so little time. Their Princess hadn’t needed to order them to push so hard, but they could tell at a glance that speed was of the essence, and she hadn’t corrected them.

The chariot wheels clattered across one of the few paved squares in town, stopping just before an old fountain. While the guards unlatched their harnesses, Twilight and her Captain of the Guard, sitting beside her during the ride over, leapt out of the chariot, and began the brisk march towards Ponyville General.

“Soldiers!” Gallus called out, and waved his talons with authority, “Wait right here. This might be a while.”

“Sir!” both snapped to attention at the order. Gallus nodded in approval at their crisp, military bearing, and took up his place; at her side, one step behind.

Twilight glanced backward at her trusted Captain, the urgency of her stride not lessening in the slightest as she said, “Gallus, you don’t need to follow me in there. I’ll be fine.”

“Begging your pardon, Princess,” he responded, with a clip of his beak, “But I’d like to go in anyway, if it’s all the same to you.”

She didn’t say anything, at first. She merely observed her friend, Guard Captain, and former student with a studious eye, honed through the years. His armor was slightly loose around the back-harness buckles. The muzzle-strap was undone. And though he moved with almost mechanical perfection, she could see the way his talons scratched at the ground, and how his wings bunched behind his shoulders.

How many times was Trixie there for you, she thought, somberly, when you had nocreature else?

“I’m sure your old counselor would love to see you again,” she managed a light smile, and turned her attention back to the road.

“Thank you,” he nodded, curtly. If he trusted his voice to hold up, he didn’t show it then.

Ponyville General slowly loomed into view. The hospital had been renovated many times over the years, as new medical technologies were adapted from the world beyond the Mirror, and the population of the once-sleepy town ballooned. It was over twice as large as it once was, but the same familiar yellow-and-pink exterior was there to greet the Princess as she arrived.

Despite the late hour, there was still a hooffull of staff ready for the Princess’ arrival, including a rather familiar purple mare with a golden mane.

“Your Majesty!” the doctor knelt down to Twilight as she and Gallus reached the front desk, “We’ve been expecting you.”

“Good evening, Dinky,” Princess Twilight managed a soft smile for the young mare, “How is the patient?”

There was a flash of something in Dinky’s eyes, but she covered it quickly, and picked up a clipboard in her green aura.

“Come with me,” she said, evenly, “I’ll show you to the patient’s… to Trixie’s room.”

The hospital was deathly quiet. With normal visiting hours over, and most of the patients encouraged to rest, even this close after sundown the place was just about shut up for the night. The only sounds, to Twilight’s ears, were the clip-clop of their party’s hooves on hardwood, and the occasional sound of a vital machine beeping behind a closed door.

Princess Twilight was, naturally, fully aware of the movement of the sun and moon as the latter’s light began to beam into the building from its tall windows. She was glad to see it, and glad to have given the heavenly orbs a little extra inertia this time around. She wasn’t in much of a mood to keep exact track of them.

Finally, after a long, silent march up multiple flights of stairs, the three arrived at the top floor of the hospital. Trixie had been given the Princess-Room at the very front and center of Ponyville General, partly due to the large amount of ponies and creatures that would no doubt be in to see her, and partly how Doctor Feel Good, the Chief of Medicine, didn’t want to be turned into radioactive slag if Starlight Glimmer found out Trixie hadn’t been given the best room.

The area was a bit of a mess, Twilight noted, as they approached Trixie’s room. It was clear that nearly every chair on the floor had been confiscated by visitors and stacked all around the door to accommodate them all. Twilight could still see some bits of frosting from around where she guessed Pinkie’s family had sat.

Dinky stopped a few feet from the door.

“Trixie and her immediate family are still inside,” she nodded, after confirming something on her clipboard, “But, um… Your Majesty?”

“Yes, Doctor?”

Dinky glanced, nervously, over to Gallus, who was otherwise staring straight ahead at the door in front of them.

Twilight nodded, slowly. “Gallus? Why don’t you go on ahead?”

“Princess?” he asked.

“I want to talk with Dinky really quick,” she said, smoothly, “But you should go in. I’m sure seeing you will make Trixie’s night.”

“Heh,” he laughed, but then started forward immediately, “If she hasn’t already bumped into everycreature she’s ever met!”

Twilight watched her Guard Captain go, right up until the door clicked shut behind him. Then, she turned back towards the Doctor, the one she better remembered as a bright-eyed filly around the town, and sighed.

“You wanted to talk, yes?”

The warm, inviting smile Dinky had worn since the Princess’ arrival seemed to melt away as a torrent of concern, and professional weariness furrowed her brows. She set her mouth into the hard line of a pony whose tasks often had to be amended with a sorrowful, ‘I’m sorry, we did everything we could’.

Dinky took in a deep breath through her nose, and said, “Trixie was found collapsed in her office by a student. We don’t know how long she was out, but there was a two-hour gap between her meetings today.”

She flipped through some of the paperwork attached to her clipboard, eyes furiously searching for the right lines of ink.

“When we got her, her oxygen stats were rock-bottom. She could hardly breath without a ventilator, and even after we managed to get her respirating normally, it’s taking an Oxygenation Crystal on her nightstand to keep her stable. We think…”

“Dinky,” the Princess interrupted, “I don’t think this is appropriate. Trixie is awake, and I’m sure she hasn’t authorized you to share her medical record with me.”

Here, Dinky’s magic slipped a note out from her clipboard. It looked like a list of names, with Trixie’s signature at the bottom.

“Actually,” she said, holding the paper up, “You are. You, Trixie’s daughter Celeste, Starswirl, Starlight, and somepony named Human Trixie are all authorized to receive her diagnosis.

“Plus…” Dinky placed the paperwork back together, but did not return to look Twilight in the eye, “You’re the Princess. And you’re here. And… you might be able to help…”

Twilight stood still, and listened, as Dinky spoke. Hearing what Trixie had done, adding her to such a list, left the Princess feeling odd. Sort of unbalanced. She mulled the thought over in silence for a few moments.

Then, she gave Dinky an affirmative nod.

“Very well. What’s your diagnosis?”

The hospital staff really spared no expenses, Twilight was pleased to see, as she opened the door to Trixie’s room, and found that it was spacious enough to accommodate more guests than usual. Even accounting for the various medical machines of human-origin in the room, there was plenty of space for the flowers, candy, apples, and other gifts and treats left by visitors.

It was a gladdening sight, the gifts and shown affection for the showmare and school counsellor, as was the commanding view of Ponyville her room’s windows held. The breathtaking view could almost make Twilight forget she was standing in a hospital room.

Trixie, of course, held no such illusions for herself.

“Hey, Sparkle,” a scratchy, hoarse whisper grated against Twilight’s ears, and left a cold streak down her spine, “Didn’t think you’d show up.”

Trixie lay at the nexus of an array of medical devices. Plastic tubes carrying oxygen and various liquids ran from her small, frail form like a vast, life-supporting web. And yet, tucked into the large white hospital bed, she looked smaller still. Frailer, still. Like a little blue dot in a cloudy sky.

Gallus stood at Trixie’s right, holding up one of her hooves. He stood resolute and soldierly, despite the darkened tract of feathers beneath his eyes. Near him, Celeste Lulamoon, Trixie in all but color and mane – which she shared with her father, Starswirl – maintained her own silent vigil, her eyes hidden by the brim of her green wizard hat.

And on the other side, Twilight’s heart broke as she took in the form of Starswirl the Bearded. He sat in a chair, near Trixie’s left, his back to the windows. It looked like he hadn’t eaten in days, brushed his coat, or washed his mane. His eyes were hollow, and lifeless, dull orbs looking out on a scene he had no agency to alter, nor prevent.

“Of course, I came,” Twilight smiled, and tried to focus on Trixie alone, “I came as soon as I could.”

Oh, but worst of all was the showmare herself. Her colors had paled, and her coat was messy and unkempt. Her hair was almost as bad, drooping here and there, heavy with sweat, and yet almost dry and crackling.

There was something unnatural about Trixie Lulamoon sitting still, or lying down. Her shows were often daring exhibitions of acrobatics, in addition to her illusions and fireworks, and so to see her limbs listless at her side was a disquieting thing to behold. To see the loose skin pooling at her neck, her jaw, and along her exposed leg joints, without the supple strength and alacrity Twilight was used to seeing in her; it chilled the Princess’s very blood.

It’s like Granny Smith, she thought, as she approached, all over again.

Gallus made some sort of excuse, and tried to leave the room. Celeste, after inquiring with her father – who moved only to shake his head slowly – and watching Twilight a moment, went out with the Captain.

Twilight hadn’t heard a word of what passed between them. She was too preoccupied with the sunken, pale eyes that looked up at her with a sneer.

“Hmph,” Trixie sniffed as the door shut behind Gallus and Celeste, “At your earliest convenience, no doubt.”

“Yes, actually,” Twilight nodded, just managing a calm tone to her voice, “There were still a few things I couldn’t clear away before now, so…”

Trixie scoffed, though it was a hollow, little thing, choked by the breathing tubes sticking out of her nose and down her throat, “Bah! Even Grogar managed to come by and console his Greatest Rival!”

She pointed, weakly over towards Starswirl, who hadn’t moved as of yet, “Swirly here threw him out the window!”

Twilight frowned, and turned her attention to the aged stallion. “Grogar forgot about the restraining order?”

Starswirl said nothing.

“Swirly?” Trixie asked, her voice… softer than it was a moment ago. Starswirl’s ears instantly snapped to attention, though his eyes were a bit slower in following.

“Oh,” he said, quietly, “Um… yes. He remembered. But he didn’t realize I’d be here when he came by.”

Princess Twilight blinked. And then, pressing one hoof to the base of her horn, in a vain attempt to block out the coming headache, she sighed.

“… Trixie is Grogar’s rival… of course…”

There was a moment of quiet, ruined only by the hiss of an oxygen machine. Twilight glanced up, to find Starswirl sinking back down into whatever dark place he was in, eyes forward and unfocused.

Trixie, on the contrary, fixed the Princess with a steady gaze. Perhaps ‘glare’ would have been more appropriate, but Twilight could feel there was less than malice behind that look. There was something of a searching quality to Trixie’s glare.

She was hunting for something.

“Swirly?” she croaked, and half-turned her head towards her husband, “Could you see if there’s some more water outside?”

Starswirl blinked. His dull gaze lightened, a moment, as he beheld his wife’s face.

“Hm?” he questioned.

“I need water,” Trixie said, flatly, “Could you get some more?”

“Oh…” his mind seemed to take a moment to ponder this problem. Then, he stood up slowly, like a zombie rising again. His long legs carried him, with a mechanical gait, across the room, nearly crashing into Twilight, had she not taken another step into the room. In this way, he staggered out of the room, hardly even noting the half-filled jug of water on Trixie’s nightstand.

One of the monitors beeped.

“So…” the Princess glanced about, “They gave you the nice…”

“Sparkle,” Trixie said, with just a skosh less hostility than before, “How’re things?”

“How…?” Twilight blinked, “How are things?”

Trixie bit her lip, and narrowed her eyes.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Sparkle,” Trixie said, finally, then chuckled darkly. “You’re sort of jumping the party cannon there, aren’t you?”

“Trixie, please,” Twilight winced at the gallows humor, “Don’t talk like that. There’s…”

The glare came back, this time accompanied by a scowl.

“Rarity’s already got my measurements,” Trixie said in a cool tone, “Big Mac said he’d do the coffin ‘up proper’, whatever that means, and I guess Little Cheese will be providing the funerary cupcakes at the wake.”

She snorted, weakly, “I just need to talk to you about getting a nice spot in a cemetery. I like Ponyville, don’t get me wrong, but the only open plot is next to Filthy Rich, and you know how we never got along…”

Twilight slipped in as Trixie took another deep suck of air, “There are always options…”

“Not this time,” Trixie closed her eyes, “And… and I’m fine with that. Really.”

Twilight held her breath. Then, when Trixie said nothing else, she took a seat to her left. Seeing Trixie up close… the damage looked worse than from across the room. This close, the Princess couldn’t help but notice the little scabs from where tubes and needles scraped Trixie while they hooked her in, and marks from her fall back at the School.

Trixie almost looked asleep.

“Dinky filled you in?”

Twilight looked away.

“Breaker’s Disease,” she focused on the medical data she’d seen on the Doctor’s chart, “Type 2, so it’s genetic, as opposed to stress or infection-induced…”

“Dad left me a bunch of unpaid bills and some angry Bitalian debt collectors,” Trixie groaned, “and Mom left me her lungs. Trixie wins the lotto yet again. At least I’m older than she was when it happened. Small victories, right?”

“The…” Twilight shook her head, “Dinky said you should have manifested symptoms years ago. It looked like somepony was slowing down your lungs’ deterioration. Did you learn any medical magic when I wasn’t looking?”

“Scrapes and bruises… maybe a broken bone, if I’m on the road,” Trixie shrugged as best she could without ripping an IV out, “Can’t regrow lungs.”

Twilight’s muzzle scrunched up.

“Trixie? Did… did Starswirl teach you any Time magic?” she licked her lips, “Anything that tried to arrest the damages…?”

Trixie opened her eyes, and looked to Twilight with a tired smile.

“I didn’t get any mutant genes, Twilight. I’m just a regular unicorn,” she sighed, “I couldn’t cast those spells even if I gave it my all.”

“That’s not true,” Twilight leaned in, one hoof reaching for Trixie’s, “You’re resourceful! I bet you could have… could have torn up those spells, and whipped up something useable!”

“… maybe,” Trixie closed her eyes again, “But we’ll never know now.”

“No!” Twilight said, her voice rising by degrees, “I know so!”

“Yeah?” Trixie turned her pale eyes back to the Alicorn, “And how do you know?”

“Because, I read your… your…” Twilight coughed, covering her mouth with the hoof she had been reaching out to Trixie, “… your… patents.”

Trixie’s ears perked.

“My patents?”

“Your patents,” Twilight lied, smoothly.

“My spell patents?” Trixie looked over to her, and raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

“Really.”

Trixie’s eyes, as pale as they were, narrowed in on Twilight’s own. It may just have been Twilight’s old instincts flaring up, a need to please those of scholarly and scholastic authority, but that stare was already starting to bore down into her.

Images of past teachers sensing a misbehaving student’s lies from across the classroom started dancing in her mind’s eye.

It doesn’t take a great actor to know a bad one, Trixie’s look seemed to say.

“And…” Twilight took a deep, slow breath, and steadied herself.

She met Trixie’s stare.

“I read your journal.”

The room was silent, save for the machines. Trixie’s eyes, somehow, narrowed further.

But, as the seconds passed, a smirk crossed her muzzle.

“Joke’s on you, Sparkle,” she said, “But I don’t keep a journal. Everything is committed to my Great and Powerful memory.”

Twilight’s face slipped into an unamused frown.

“Your journal, Trixie,” she repeated, “The one in Gusty’s Tomb.”

For an instant, Twilight might have been forgiven for thinking Trixie’s whole illness was nothing more than a ruse. Her ears stood straight up, and her eyes became like gleaming gems, full of light and life. But, within the blink of an eye, her expression drew back in on itself, and she was suddenly guarded, unsure.

She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Then, hesitantly, she asked, “Where was the tomb?”

Twilight quickly recalled the location Daring had scoped out, drew up the relevant information, and said, “The tomb was set down in the ruins of Tambelon, just near the…”

A wretched, hacking sound erupted from Trixie. Twilight gasped, and leapt out of her seat, only to watch, in growing horror as Trixie spasmed, coughing and sputtering…

And laughing.

“T-Trixie?” Twilight blinked a few times, just in case the blue unicorn had finally lost it.

Trixie’s laughter wracked her body, and she sounded like she was choking on her oxygen tube. Twilight pressed the ‘up arrow’ amidst the bed’s controls with her magic, quickly bringing Trixie up into a sitting position.

As Trixie’s laughter faded slowly, it was largely replaced with more wet coughs and gagging sounds. Twilight fetched a tissue box from the nightstand, and tried to help as best she could, but Trixie’s body wasn’t cooperating.

It took minutes for the heaving coughs to subside. By the time it was over, Twilight was afraid they’d gone through about half of the tissues. She carefully removed the bloodied things, tossing everything in a medical waste bin with her magic.

And with Trixie’s attack finally winding down, the sickly showmare’s energy appeared as low as Twilight had ever seen it. She practically sank into her bedding. An inner flame, alight in her eyes, was the only thing that gave Twilight pause in thinking she’d fallen asleep right then and there.

“Heh,” she croaked, “Swirly owes me fifty bits. Told him…”

“Trixie,” Twilight said, and came back to sitting at her friend’s side, “I’m so sorry this is happening. But… if you could create all those spells, and manage to do… everything you did…”

One of Trixie’s hooves weakly cut her off.

“How far did you get?”

Twilight’s mind reflexively brought up an almost eidetic recollection of the last entry she’d read.

“You just dealt with Aeva,” she recounted, “You convinced her not to erase you from the timeline…”

Trixie blew a little raspberry.

“… and I was just about to read what happened between you and Swi- Starswirl,” she corrected, “when I got the news.”

The showmare sighed, the light in her eyes dimming.

“So, do you believe Trixie now?” she said, low and quiet.

Twilight rolled her eyes, and groaned, “Trixie… lying about your accomplishments was how we met, if you’ll recall the Ursa Minor that…”

She stopped, and took a long, relaxing breath. She even swept one hoof out as she breathed. Twilight hardly ever needed that trick, these days. It was only when dealing with Trixie.

Trixie, who’d been telling the truth.

“I still should have given you the benefit of the doubt,” Twilight nodded, slowly, “When you first came back to the present, I didn’t want to believe you. It all just… sounded so much like your usual nonsense that I blocked it out. I didn’t want to hear about you… ‘saving Gusty’, or ‘mentoring Starswirl’, or whatever it was you said about Grogar and Bray.

“But I should have,” Twilight looked to the ceiling, as if an answer was up in the florescent lighting, “Because we were friends. Are friends. And… I’m sorry, Trixie. I’m sorry I never believed you without having to factcheck. Can you forgive me?”

“Yeah?” asked Trixie, her brows furrowing as she listened, “Nice to hear, I guess. Twenty-five years late. But nice.”

“I’m sorry, Trixie,” Twilight reached out again, and gripped one of her hooves, “But I believe you, now. You were… you are one of Equestria’s greatest heroes.”

“… and most Powerful?” Trixie tilted her head to the side, the shadow of a smile touching her lips.

Twilight chuckled, but pressed on, to Trixie’s slight annoyance.

“I would be honored if you would tell me the rest of your legendary adventure,” she smiled. And it was a gentle, almost motherly, smile.

Trixie’s grip tightened on Twilight’s hoof, but weakly, like it was a Breezie pushing on it. She looked away, and breathed slowly through her nose.

“No,” she said.

“… What?”

Trixie looked back, with a weary gaze.

“No, Sparkle,” she repeated, “You never could believe me without some kind of proof to look at. Even with Swirly backing me up, you never believed me before.”

“You two were practically engaged your first week back!” Twilight scrunched her nose, and said, “He wasn’t a reliable witness…”

“Even so!” Trixie’s monitors chirped a warning as a renewed vigor seized her. But, with that warning, she seemed to settle again, letting the softness of the bed hold her down.

“Even so,” she said, eyes misting, “You need the journal. You need evidence, Sparkle. So just head back, and finish it. I’m not dying for at least a week, if Dinky’s doctorate is worth anything.”

“I can’t just read it,” Twilight rolled her eyes, and waved one wing in the general direction of Canterlot, “Daring has to go through a process to restore the damaged bits before I get the entries.”

There was another spasm, though this one was mercifully short, and left only a spittle of blood splashed across Trixie’s sheets.

“Daring Do!?” she hissed.

Twilight nodded, and she dragged another tissue across Trixie’s blood-splotched lips, “She’s an excellent editor…”

“Eugh… that means Indeedy got her mitts all over my journal,” Trixie pouted, briefly releasing Twilight’s hoof until she realized what she’d done, and snatched it back up.

“I still don’t know why you dislike her. Indeedy’s pretty cute, and her books, while a little young, are very well written.”

“She stole the Alicorn Amulet from the woods that one time, and got me blamed for it,” Trixie snorted, “And then, she had the gall to reduce Trixie’s role in the tale to that of a secondary character! I deserved top-billing, and she knew it.”

The fuming unicorn glared into the distance.

“If the movie rights ever get optioned, I better get played by Carmare,” she scoffed, “She’s the only one of Daring’s brats who can carry a tune. And she’s almost pretty enough, I guess…”

“Wait, when did you meet Carmare…?”

Trixie shook her head, and spoke, hoarsely, “Not the point, Sparkle. Not the point, at all.” She huffed, but said nothing else.

But, to her mind, Twilight was fine with the sudden, companionable silence. It gave her a moment to check her old friend again. She’d need rest soon, Twilight reasoned, looking over the flecks of blood on the sheets, and the way her eyes twitched, striving to hold off sleep for just a bit longer.

Something was pushing her to continue, though her own body rebelled against anything other than sleep.

“Look,” said Trixie, in a low whisper, “Like I said. I don’t have… long. Magic won’t help me now.”

“You’re forgetting how stubborn and unreasonable I can be, Trixie. I won’t stop until I’ve completely exhausted that avenue,” Twilight leaned forward, and pressed another hoof to Trixie’s. Perhaps, with enough pressure and contact, she could will a bit of her own strength into the frail creature before her.

“You have my word.”

Perhaps, in spite of herself, Trixie smiled at that.

“Just…” she coughed, and cleared her throat, “Just make sure the statue captures my eyes. They’re my best feature. And, instruct a few guards to look appropriately shook up by my passing, if that’s alright?”

Twilight managed a little smile herself, though, like Trixie’s, it didn’t really reach her eyes.

“Of course, Trixie.”

“And make sure wherever you bury me,” Trixie’s eyes began to leak, and she brought her other hoof to hold Twilight’s, “It’s near a road. Old wanderer tradition. I have to be able to… see the crossroads, or else I’ll just be stuck in one place…”

“I will,” Twilight took a shuddering breath, “Don’t worry about it.”

“And…” Trixie swallowed, “Look out for Swirly. I left him... I already broke his heart once. You know how stallions are, sometimes. So emotional.”

“I’ll make sure Celeste takes good care of him,” Twilight agreed, biting her lower lip, her eyes never wavering from Trixie’s own.

The two mares held their silence. There were no cries. Sniffing, snuffling, gasping and sobbing were not permitted here. Only the resolve of two rivals, comfortable with one another, in the dark of a hospital room.

That was, until Twilight heard a strange sound. She realized, after a few seconds, that it was Trixie. The ephemeral unicorn’s lips were quivering as she held back a strangling cry, made so much more difficult by the tubes keeping her airways productive.

Trixie’s eyes, pale, pink, brimming with tears, locked with Twilight’s.

Her hooves tightened their grip, but only a moment. The urgency was there, but not the strength they once wielded. Twilight held her friend tighter still.

“Twilight,” Trixie said, her voice a frail shadow of the bravado that had dared an Ursa Minor, changelings, and demons of the darkest depths. Hot tears streamed down her face, and a whimper escaped from her lips.

“I don’t want to die. I’m… I’m scared…”

At last, the silence ended.

Twenty minutes later, once all her tears were shed, Trixie Lulamoon fell into a deep slumber. Twilight carefully dried her eyes, tucked her in to her bed, and quietly wished her friend a good night’s rest.

“Luna,” she whispered to herself, “Look after her?”

There was no response. Of course not.

Still, before the towering Princess left, she leaned over one more time, and placed a gentle kiss on Trixie’s brow. Perhaps it was the strange lighting of the room, or of Ponyville beyond, but Twilight liked to think that she saw Trixie smile, even if only in her dreams.

She made her way from the room, silent as a shadow. She made sure to coat the door in her magic, and apply a short-timed silencing spell before she closed it behind her. No need to accidentally wake Trixie up, after all… that.

The hospital was quiet. Deathly quiet. Twilight was not so fond of that phrasing, not today.

Sprawled over a couple of chairs, with a set of blankets lovingly placed over him, Starswirl slept soundly in the hall. While she could only see part of his face, it was clear his dreams would be troubled.

Princess Twilight looked up, and saw Captain Gallus, standing guard like a gargoyle by the end of the hall. It was clear he’d managed to straighten himself out, at least physically. Regardless the reality of his composure, she could tell, even from that distance, that he would need time to fully come to grips with today.

However, it was not loyal Gallus who caught the Princess’s attention. It was her student, the one and only Celeste Lulamoon, standing in the middle of the hallway, and facing her mother’s room.

She looked ready for a war.

“Princess,” she nodded respectfully, if stiffly. Celeste removed her hat with a steady, gold, telekinetic grip, setting it down on a nearby, unoccupied chair. Without its wide brim, her reddened, tired eyes could be seen, glaring through the gloom.

The lack of theatrics put Twilight on edge. Celeste was serious about whatever she had to say.

And I know what you will say, my faithful student…

“Celeste,” Twilight nodded back, respectfully, waiting to see what had her student in such a mood, “Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?”

The gray unicorn was staring daggers.

“Well?” she asked, unwavering, “Are you going to help her?”

Twilight was startled, somewhat, by the directness.

“Of course,” she said, solemnly, “Once I’m back in my lab with Dr. Dinky’s notes, I should be able to start working on some medical spells that should—”

“Not like that!” Celeste hissed, keeping her voice low in the halls of the hospital, “I mean, are you going to help her?”

Twilight’s mouth drew into a line.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” she lied.

Celeste glanced over her shoulder, towards Gallus, and then down at her sleeping father. With a gesture of her hoof, she bid the Princess to follow her. They went around the nearest corner, Twilight signaling Gallus to wait behind.

Once they were out of sight, and of earshot, Celeste whirled around at her teacher. Her eyes were hardened, and fearless.

“You know exactly what I mean,” she said, in a whisper, “You could fix this, right now.”

Twilight took even, measured breaths. It was now impossible not to have this conversation, despite having dreaded it for so long, wishing it would never happen.

“Celeste,” she said, slowly, trying to project calming thoughts into her words for both their sakes, “Princesshood is not something that can be given lightly. It…”

“Must be earned,” Celeste rolled her bloodshot eyes, “Yeah, I know! It’s not like I helped you explain that to Luster Dawn, back when she found out about her sister’s whole deal.

“Actually, speaking of Sunset Shimmer,” her face slipped into a scowling smirk, “What exactly did she do to earn her wings, hm?”

“Sunset was a special case, as you well know,” said Twilight, “And there isn’t a means of reversing that transformation. We just have to live with it.”

“But not my mom, apparently,” Celeste said, and came back with a biting snarl, “Because that’s what this is about. You two have always had this stupid grudge thing, and it’s making you both act nuts! You already know the spell, so it’s not like it’d be hard to do!”

“Celeste, I said no,” Twilight held her student’s gaze, not willing to look away now, nor willing to admit how hollow her own arguments sounded, “Such a power can’t be used lightly. I love her too, but the precedent could have disastrous effects! Trixie has done great things for Equestria…”

“Then, make her an Alicorn,” Celeste said, flatly, as if it wasn’t an epoch-changing event she was advocating.

Twilight shook her head, if only to shake loose the rising bile in her stomach that came with arguing with her student.

“Even the Pillars don’t get to become Alicorns, and they’ve saved Equestria just as often as my friends and I.”

“But your friends will get the option! I even helped you prove you could do it for them!” Celeste cried.

Twilight’s old love of decorum and procedure reared its head, forcing the Alicorn to snap-cast a spell. Within the span of a breath, their little corner of the hospital was wrapped up in a purple bubble of sound-dampening magic.

Twilight sighed in relief, but Celeste had hardly slowed down.

“So, is being an Alicorn like, a club? Can only your friends join? Why them, and not my mother!?”

“Celeste,” Twilight pressed, “I don’t want to have this discussion. Not now.”

“Why? Because you’d lose?”

“No,” Twilight growled, “Because I don’t have the right to make anypony an Alicorn.”

Celeste stepped up, and jabbed the Princess in her chest, “I’m not asking to make anypony an Alicorn!”

She stepped back, and waved her hoof about, “You have the means to help. It’s right there, in your head! You can walk into Mom’s room, right now, and make her better. Doesn’t she deserve that? Hasn’t she done enough to…?”

Her voice faltered. The anger in her eyes flickered, for a moment. Then, it began to fade.

“Is this all just because she… made fun of you and your friends once?” she asked, with the same quiver in her voice as Trixie had, and her eyes that same, haunting, pale pink, “Are you really holding that against her? Still?”

Twilight watched her student for another moment. She took her own step forward. Her wings wrapped around Celeste, and pulled her in close. Then, she laid her neck over the smaller pony, and held her tight.

So, this is what that was like, thought the Princess, as another silent tear rolled down her cheek. Thank you, Celestia, for being there for me, when it was my mother…

“Celeste,” she whispered, “Being an Alicorn isn’t a reward. It isn’t just for those I personally care about. It’s a responsibility. If I went around making everypony who was special an Alicorn, there wouldn’t be any ponies left.”

“Would that be so wrong?” Celeste whispered back with a crackle in her voice.

“Maybe,” Twilight answered, “Maybe not. But I can’t make that decision. It’s too big. And doing it for anypony, even a pony like Trixie… or my other friends… would be wrong, if they hadn’t done something to earn it.”

“But…” Celeste started to say, then fell silent.

“When I became an Alicorn,” Twilight spoke, quietly, “It wasn’t because Celestia decided I was ready, or chose me to become one. She had faith that I would do it. She believed I could. I bound Magic, Friendship, and Harmony into one force, and became its nexus.”

From the way Celeste shook beneath Twilight’s wings, the Princess could tell she was holding herself together by threads.

So, she continued, “Cadance was able to reverse a spell that would have destroyed all love in the world. And, in doing so, ascended, through her love, to become what she is today.

“Though your mother has done great things for Equestria, and for the world,” she paused a moment, to steady herself, “can you say, truly, that she has performed an act such as those?”

Celeste said nothing, at first. Then, in a trembling voice, she said, “No…”

Despite her size, Twilight was nearly bowled over as the smaller unicorn threw herself into her teacher. Two thin hooves wrapped their way around her barrel, and she felt the tear-stained face of her student press into her chest.

“I’m sorry,” Celeste wept, her words almost lost amid her sorrow, “I-I’m just… scared. I d-don’t know what to do…”

“I know,” Twilight closed her eyes, “I know. It’s not easy… and it’s not fair.”

She could feel Celeste press deeper into her hug. It was an old, familiar feeling. A feeling from a dark night in the palace, when a scared little foal came running to their teacher, and sitter, whenever the lightning struck.

“But,” she said, with terrible purpose, “I will do everything I can to help your mother.”

Celeste’s cries grew silent. Twilight opened her eyes, and looking up at her was that same little foal from all those years ago.

And in her eyes, there shone just a little more light than had been there before.

“You have my word.”

Author's Note

I promise, it gets happier after this.

Gods, I hope so...

Day... Spring? Spring: The Moon Rises

Looking back over her notes, Trixie realizes that time may have gotten away from her. I never claimed I was perfect, merely Great and Powerful. Also, a wizard. ~~I also once claimed student status to get into~~

Point is, I will try, Journal, to be precise with my dates from now on.

You’re welcome.

And Trixie ~~am~~ is going crazy.

Day Twenty-something

Quick update, in case only a fragment of this Great Epic survives the coming centuries. Trixie went back in time by about a couple thousand years, give or take, and met Starswirl the Bearded as a foal.

Colt, fine. I wrote it down, ~~you ungrateful~~

*the following section is illegible, as if two unicorns were fighting over the quill, and spilled ink everywhere*

Anyway, after meeting the incarnation of Time, and whupping her flank using Trixie’s Incredible Powers of Persuasion™ --

Fie! Lies and slander, all! Thou could’st bemuddle t’future such?

Gimme that quill back! You’re screwing with the Dictation Spel!!! [sic]

Ye be a mighty wizzard indeed, Fair Trixie, however thou shalt not catch meeee!

*more scribbles, foul language, and what appears to be a crude hieroglyph depicting Trixie blowing a raspberry into a tiny Starswirl’s belly*

Dictation spells are the bane of my existence. I know I fight monsters and plumb cursed and trapped ruins, but these things tick me off worse than anything Cabbie put me through back in the day. Dictation spells automatically make corrections as you talk, but they were all designed by ponies with perfect pronunciation and certain ideas about how to speak and enunciate. Nothing’s more infuriating that finishing a chapter, only to have to go back and rewrite the whole thing because the stupid enchanted quill kept thinking you obviously meant to say Darling instead of Daring six-hundred times! I probably went through hundreds of spell-crystals trying to dictate my books.

Oh, and obligatory, “Trixie just invented that spell centuries too early”. But, since Starswirl was credited with it anyway, I guess this is just one more paradox for the pile.

Day Twenty-something, again

Future readers of the Great and Powerful Trixie? Stuff happened. Enough said.

Swirly’s a pest, and I’m not doing a dictation spell again. Just gonna use a regular, non-enchanted quill. Like a peasant.

I just stuck my tongue out at the little cretin. And I had to manually write down that I did that. With my horn. Jerk.

So, me and Swirly had a talk. Like, The Talk. About how I was from the future, and that I didn’t mean to get stuck in the past. He was a bit confused, to say the least. Started quoting that Piggachad guy at me again.

Galen of Pegamon, though I’m stealing Piggachad.

Now, I didn’t tell him everything. But he’s a quick and clever one, so I’m sure he’s got a good idea about a lot of things. Maybe. Trixie, naturally, kept a few things under her hat. I managed to avoid naming names too often.

Though, to keep a tally, he’s now aware of:

Cartnegie Hall, the place my mom and dad met.
Celestia and Luna (though, not Nightmare Moon. Holy crud, would that have been bad!)
The Hearths Warming Tale and Equestria in general (sorry, Future. He sussed me)
The plot to the first three Daring Do novels
My folks
His reputation (sorry, again)
And hayburgers

Oh, is that all? Just all of that!?

And she didn’t even say if he liked the books! I could use a new blurb, you know?

Actually, I promised to show him what those taste like. But, since there’s no such thing as a sesame seed bun, at the moment—

Wait, Journal. I met him before! Like, back up-time! How didn’t he recognize me?

Time travel sucks. Best not to think about it. Especially—

Alright. Confession time. I’ll toss a little Invisible-Ink spell here, just in case Swirly gets a hold of it.

So, the Great and Powerful Trixie knows how she got here. But, Starswirl doesn’t. He still thinks I got dumped in the past because of a miscalculated Time Travel spell that I now lack the material components to fix, but that at some point, my esteemed and talented apprentice, Starlight Glimmer (didn’t give him the name, naturally), will show up to get me out of here.

I’m still mad about that, Starlight. Leaving your own bestie trapped in the past? Uncool.

It’s not lying—

Well, fine, it’s a bit of lying. But, there’s no reason to prove I’m a total fraud, right? Right. Because Trixie isn’t a fraud. Totally.

Interestingly, the ‘Invisible-Ink’ spell is a very poor name for what Trixie actually did. See, the original page has all these little hashes around the section she ‘just’ wrote. These hashes are actually little Runes, old earth pony magic from a long, long time ago. As I understand it, they’re rare these days for being so inefficient at doing anything on their own, and are usually incorporated into larger spells and arrays.

I point this out, because the runes, while clearly damaged and not working at one-hundred percent efficiency anymore, were apparently still running up to a century ago. Very nice spellwork.

I wrote to Starswirl, to ask if he was the one who originally dispelled them (there’s markers for a dispel cast on the page), but he hasn’t gotten back to me yet. Odd.

Anyway. We’re in a bit of a pickle. See, we never did get rid of those Timberwolves, and Trixie thinks there’s more of them out there now, beyond the rocks of Ponhenge. Like, a lot more.

I’m going to try a breakout, using my cunning intellect, and Great and Powerful abilities.

Wish me luck, Journal!

You didn’t wish me luck, at all! Not that you could, being a book, but Trixie is Venting.

Turns out, legging it didn’t work. Timberwolves are fast, and they don’t fall for the ‘look out behind you’ trick. On the plus side, we got back into Ponhenge before they caught us, or the wagon, again.

Alright, I suppose we also got to see what happens when a Timberwolf crosses the line past the stones. They explode, in case you didn’t know.

So, with more kindling at hoof, Trixie was at least able to set up a warm fire tonight. Unfortunately, we’re eating through our food supplies quickly, at this rate. So, hopefully, Trixie will come up with a new plan by tomorrow.

Okay, Trixie might have one way out of here, but since I don’t like testing out new spells during a performance, especially one with such a hungry audience, I’m going to leave it til the last chance.

By the way, if you’ve found this journal in Timberwolf poop, congratulations. You have the worst job, ever.

Day thirty? Who cares anymore?

So, that was weird. Trixie isn’t talking ‘put on a dark magical amulet and lost control of my own mind’ sort of weird. I’m not even talking ‘getting a medal from Twilight and she doesn’t even comment on our rivalry’ sort of weird.

I mean, ‘dream about Princess Luna from a couple thousand years away’ weird.

Because that’s what happened. Among other things.

For once, I didn’t dream about Hyneighria. No, that night, Trixie dreamed of Cartnegie Hall again. Though, this time, the audience was completely filled with Timberwolves.

Actually, they were a pretty appreciative audience, when all was said and done. I was up on stage, performing a classic routine, with the legendary Grouchy Marks himself! And we were getting cheers and laughs like you wouldn’t believe!

Grouchy Marks, again, was one of the Marks Brothers, and a celebrated comedian and stage actor. He’s legendary for his quick wit and sharp delivery, as well as his ridiculous eyebrows, mustache, and glasses, which became his persona. I hear they got him to host a show over those new radios you set up a while back, You Bit Your Life? Caballeron and Zaldia are huge fans.

Oh, it was a classic scene, Journal! Trixie was playing the lead mare, and I was sharing the limelight with one of my old heroes!

“Just think,” he said, waggling those ridiculous eyebrows of his and mugging to the audience, “Tonight! Tonight, when the moon is sneaking around the clouds, I'll be sneaking around you. I'll meet you tonight under the moon…”

Even playing the Heel, for the bit, I almost swooned at the dream-stallion. Made-up or not, he always had a certain je ne say cwa to him. Nothing could have come from it, he being, like, a hundred years old, and being too short.

What can I say? I like tall stallions. Ones with muzzle hair, especially.

“Oh, I can see it now!” he said, the Timberwolves eagerly awaiting the classic punchline, “You and the moon. The Moon and you. You, wear a necktie, so I’ll… oh…”

He trailed off. That wasn’t right. ~~In case you never got to hear the joke in real life~~

The Journal isn’t alive, Trixie. Stop talking to it. ~~But who else am I going to talk to?~~

STAHP

Right. Grouchy just Fished the whole bit, right in front of me. I was actually shocked. I mean, he was still just a dream of Grouchy, but still. There were professional standards to be upheld!

“That’s not the line!” I hissed, trying to get the act back on course before the booing started. Oddly, and this should have probably tipped me off right away, the Timberwolves were howling with laughter, as if the line had been delivered right on cue.

Grouchy stared, wide-eyed, at something behind me, and I knew, right away, that I did not want to turn around. In real life, or in dreams, the look Grouchy gave whatever loomed behind Trixie was never a good sign.

The gray stallion glanced back towards me, with some sympathy. Then, he looked towards the audience, and shrugged.

“You know?” he said, clearly judging the distance he’d have to jump, “I’ve had a wonderful evening. But this wasn’t it!”

He then leapt off the stage, directly onto a four-seater bike with the other Marks Brothers – Banjo, Cheeky, and the unfunny one – and rode off into the night.

Hey, it was a dream. Dreams are weird. ~~I’m justifying myself to a book again.~~

Well, Trixie knows you can’t get out of a bad dream by running away. And if there was a monster behind me, or something truly terrifying, like another bogus parking ticket, I was going to, at least, face it directly.

Oh, Journal. It was so much worse than a parking ticket.

It was Princess Luna! Trixie, let it be known, was shocked. Shocked!

Well, not that shocked.

Mostly, I was just confused. I’d completely forgotten about seeing the once and future Princess in my dreams, what with her mother showing up and doing the whole Timey thing before. Frankly, I still wasn’t convinced that hadn’t all been some weird dream, either.

“Trixie Lulamoon,” she pronounced, regally, “We have come to stop thee- you, from making a terrible mistake!”

“If you’re here to warn me not to crib off some other pony’s spells, you’re a little late,” Trixie snarked, beautifully.

Swirly’s reminding me not to embellish. Fine. I’ll be “truthful”.

But I did snark, and it was perfect. Even the Timberwolves laughed.

Swirly’s reminding me that the Timberwolves always laughed, but whatever.

Luna paused. Either she was waiting for the laughter to die down, or to marvel at how perfect my snarking was, I don’t know.

“Trixie,” she said again, “There is no shame in being bested by one such as Twilight Sparkle. But what you are planning to do next will make you a monster!”

I rolled my eyes, “Lady, if running away from Timberwolves makes me a monster, then everypony’s a monster.”

Good joke. Everywolf laughs. Roll on snare drums.

“Timberwolves? What?” Luna seemed rather confused by what I said, sparing only a glance to the audience. Then, she shook her head and pressed on, saying, “Trixie! I speak not of Timberwolves, but of the Alicorn Amulet!”

“Yeah?” I had no idea where she was going with that, “What happened to it? Did Princess Twilight dig it up again?”

“Princess… stop that!” Luna snapped, irritatedly, “I am trying to help you…”

“Stop what?” I asked.

“Knowing things!” she snapped back, to thunderous Timberwolf applause, “Things you should not know! Things you cannot possibly know!”

She was getting upset really fast, Journal. Like, more than most ponies I meet. And I meet a lot of angry ponies in my line of work.

I don’t think she’s put that together yet.

“Don’t you remember our last conversation?” I said, with as much tact as the Tactful Trixie could muster, “I’m from your future, relatively speaking. Of course, I know things.”

Luna snorted, “I understand you were under much stress before, to invent such ridiculous tales and… and tomfoolery.

“But,” she raised herself up, to a cry and a holler from the audience, “Even your mastery of the illusory arts cannot trick me, Miss Lulamoon! Nopony can travel through time. Even Starswirl, wise as he was, could not manage such a feat.”

“Then how does your mom do it?” I asked, innocently.

Luna’s ~~eyes~~ pupils shrank. Trixie could see her esophagus, the way her jaw dropped.

The Timberwolves Oooooh’d.

Trixie assumed that Luna was mad before, Journal. But I was mistaken. The look she gave those Timberwolves was something else entirely.

I know this, because she shot freaking lightning out of her eyes! The whole crowd went up like a house of matchsticks, blue flames consuming the entirety of the Hall! It was so much scarier than when I did it that once.

A few days into her Apology Tour, after meeting your old student, Starlight, Trixie performed at Cartnegie Hall. She didn’t actually burn the place down, but she was meant to be the fall-pony in an insurance scam the owner cooked up. Literally.

Six months later, once the place had been put back together, it was redubbed Carneighgie Hall, as an attempt to distance the theater from its arsony past. Trixie had, naturally, jumped bail in the meantime. She might not even know they dropped charges against her once the truth came out.

Princess Luna rounded back on me, and I instantly worried she might zap me too!

“What did… thou sayest… to me?”

Her voice was so cold, you know? It was like the most scariest, fearsomest thing I’d ever heard, times a kajillion! If I was in my waking body, I might have peed a little.

“P-Princess A-a-A-a-Aeva?” I managed to say, through chattering teeth. Trixie couldn’t be sure, but I think the stage lights were also dimming around us.

*several lines lost to water damage*

Now, to Luna’s credit, she was a very patient listener. I missed having Cartnegie Hall there, but I suppose reciting my whole adventure up til that point, surrounded by the picturesque views of dream-Ponhenge, even surrounded by dream-Timberwolves, wasn’t exactly a bad setting for it.

Idea: Performance at Ponhenge. The tickets’ll sell themselves!

I can’t find any records of her holding such a performance, so I assume she never got around to it. Probably for the best. If she did hold one there, I have no doubt she’d get sent to the distant future to battle a robot apocalypse or something.

“I’m sorry, Trixie,” she said, looking up at an unfamiliar sky, “I am just having a hard time comprehending this. Wrapping my head around it, as Tia calls it now.”

I only really ever met Luna after all the Amulet – not to mention changeling – business, so this was the first time I’d really heard her talk in Old Ponish. Apparently, according to Sparkle, she slowly lost her accent after returning from the moon. As with most Old Ponish, it’s easier to speak than to write, so I’ve been cleaning that up for you, Journal.

But Luna herself has the worst accent of them all, at least in Old Ponish. I think she must have either hung out with her generation of thespians, or she picked up another dialect entirely. So, for this whole conversation, just imagine me having to take a moment in between each line to translate whatever the heck she just said!

I managed to talk with Luna and Starswirl before on this, but it’s worth mentioning here. Luna’s accent is the result of her isolating herself from mainstream Equestrian society over the years from when she began to feel underappreciated, up until the whole Nightmare thing. Apparently, all her batponies share that accent, to one degree or another.

Before Starswirl suddenly disappeared on me, he said that one of the enchantments he got set to Permanent on himself and the other Pillars was a translation spell to allow them to communicate with anypony. I guess he hated having to learn whole new dialects whenever he had to speak between pegasi, unicorns, and earth ponies.

Ever wonder why he could speak modern Ponish when you summoned him back from the great beyond?

Trixie snorted back, “You’re telling me! A month ago, I was doing shows in Manehattan, and counseling teenagers at Twilight’s Friendship School…”

After another moment, I remembered to add, “Please forget you heard that.”

Trixie isn’t sure she heard me, as the Princess just lay on her back, staring at, well, nothing, as far as I could tell. But, Trixie never did well with silence, so I began thinking up something to pass the time.

“So… you can time travel too?”

“Hm?” Luna glanced ~~up~~ down—

Wait, Journal? If she’s looking down her own barrel, but I’m above her, is it up or down? Whatever, I’ll leave that for the editor.

Like somepony’s going to edit this! Ha!

“Ha” indeed, Trixie. “Ha”, indeed.

She looked at me and said, “It is… something I inherited from Mother, yes. The Dreamrealm is quite malleable in terms of time and space. Otherwise, dreamers would feel every second of time pass them by, and that would be a most distracting feeling, wouldn’t you say?”

“But that means you could take me home, right?” I asked, hopefully, “I don’t want to just dump Swirly here all alone. But if I can find some of his family in Hoofburg…”

Sadly, the Princess was ahead of me on that.

“I am sorry, Miss Lulamoon, but my form of travel is very limited. Unless you have found a way to physically enter the dreams of others, you will not be able to accompany me in a meaningful way.”

“Rats!” I kicked at an imaginary dream-rock… who yelled something quite vulgar in Prench as it sailed away. Then, another thought struck me.

“Wait. If you can dream back in time…”

“That is not how I’d describe it,” the Princess splayed out her wings, like she was getting comfy on the dream grass. If she were physically there, I’d have offered some of those awesome mushrooms, she looked so chillaxed, as Dash might call it.

“My Dreamwalking ability allows me to visit the dreams of those long gone,” she explained, tracing a few unknown constellations across the sky with one wingtip, “And from there, if I have permission, I can peer into the memories of those long-lost souls. But there is always some amount of interference due to the ages I must cross, and finding one soul amongst the billions and trillions that have existed is an astonishingly difficult task, even under ideal conditions.”

“You found me twice,” I pointed out.

“True!” Luna nodded towards the stone pillars around us, “Ponhenge seems to be amplifying your presence in the Dreamrealm. I daresay, if I didn’t fear corrupting the timeline, I’d take a look at young… Swirly’s dreams, right now.”

Trixie will admit to flinching, when the Princess said the word ‘corrupting’. As much as I was happy with how Aeva had decided not to erase Trixie, I still hadn’t shaken the—

Sparkle would be better with the fancy, big words. ~~She’d be better at a lot of things, to be fair.~~

There’s that thing where a pony thinks about thinking, right? And the thought of not thinking ever again, or never having thunk in the first place, is super-scary stuff. I’m still shook over what Aeva almost did, and the thought that I might be making doomed timelines, every time I sneeze wrong, almost makes Trixie want to scream.

The word she’s looking for is ‘Existential’, like in existential crisis, which is what’s clearly happening now.

“You can’t just, like, fix things then?” I asked, “Go back and warn me not to do this? Or warn yourself not to…?”

“Not to let my own jealousy overrule my reason and compassion?” she finished for me, “Not to allow myself to be consumed by darkness and shadow and hatred, until only the Nightmare remains?”

“You said it, not me!”

She chuckled at my little joke – which I made while not cowering beneath my dream-hat – and said, “No, Trixie. I cannot cross my own personal timeline. I did not show up in my own dreams at that crucial time… and so I cannot.”

“That… makes sense,” I lied, but put on a good show of not being confused, all the same, “But, if you can see the past, what did Celestia get?”

“If you ever hear stories and tales of my sister’s visions,” Luna rolled back onto her stomach, “Many will be the truth. Dearest Celestia has always been able to see the future… though never at will, or by choice. The fact that she can change the events she sees…

“I will admit that some of my jealousy may have been born from that, as much as the love of our little ponies,” she sighed.

One sister forever looking backward, on things she can’t change. The other always looking ahead, but perhaps tunnel-visioning to the exclusion of all else. Dang, now if that isn’t poetic, I’ll eat my helmet.

It never really hit Trixie before then, just how normal the Princesses were. You live your whole life with them there, being all perfect and made of sunlight and—

Cadance is the Love Alicorn, right? She’s not just the Princess of Pink, or something?

Why am I asking you, Journal?

Either way, with the sole exception of Sparkle, I’d never thought any of the Princesses were normal. They were always above us mere ponies. So, seeing one of them looking so lost, so forlorn, just didn’t sit well with Trixie.

“Did…” I thought to break the silence that fell on the two of us, “Did you ever see Aeva again?”

Luna sighed.

“A few times, here and there, over the centuries. Though, these meetings are quite limited by the… circumstances.”

“I’m sorry,” was all I could say, “Trixie knows what it’s like not to have your mom there for you.”

“Fear not, Trixie,” the Princess said, as she stood back up. She trotted quickly to where I sat, and threw her wings around me in a hug.

A hug! Journal! A Princess was hugging me!

“We do not blame thee… I mean, you,” she said, and I could almost feel her words wrapping around me as she said it, “Without you, Equestria would not be. If ‘twere not for my Sister and I being present, perhaps the three tribes would not ever have worked together.

“We owe you a debt,” she finished, letting me go again. I was sorely tempted to ask for another hug. Wings are so soft!

After that, the Princess started looking around at the surrounding tree line.

“Trixie?” she asked, “How, exactly, are you planning on getting out of this? From what I can discern, you are most terribly outnumbered.”

“Well, there’s a spell I’ve been fiddling with,” I replied, though slowly, as I knew there was one big hitch in that plan I hadn’t worked around yet.

“Show me,” Luna commanded.

Oh, yeah. Commanded.

“Uh… how?”

Luna smiled at me, and said, “Merely allow me permission to view your memories.”

Now, with that, I had some reservations. Nopony gets into Trixie’s mind. My mind is as a steel trap, impervious! Nothing in, and nothing out!

But. How often do you get the chance to have a Princess root through your brain?

Naturally, I said yes.

Nothing in or out, huh?

Instantly, blazing with pink fire and light, I watched my spell take shape in the air around us. Within moments, it held itself up between me and the Princess, like a perfect array of letters and numbers and mathimagical computations.

It was beautiful, if Trixie can say so herself. But, she doesn’t have to.

“It is… beautiful,” Luna admitted to me, her eyes locked on my work, “You actually write spells in musical notation?”

~~You better not tell anypony that last part, Journal. Trixie means it! It’s proprietary~~

Journal is a book, not a pony. Journal is a book, not a pony. Journal is a book, not a pony.

Right, Luna.

Trixie is never tongue-tied, though in this instance, having my greatness recognized by a real Princess was nearly overwhelming.

“Oh, it’s… it’s nothing, really…” I said, in my most humble and powerful manner, “It’s just, since magic and music are so…”

“It is quite clever, actually,” she went on, “I can see a great many applications for such musical notation. It reminds me, somewhat, of my old court conductor, Night Song. At least, in the execution. Bit of an odd one, I’ll admit. He never took the Draught, unlike his sister. Shame…”

No, I have no idea what that meant either, Journal. Kinda wish I’d asked.

Night Song, as far as the records are concerned, was a rather decent mage working in Luna’s Night Court right after the Diarchy was established. He was an odd figure, at court. I think ‘eccentric’ is the word most commonly attributed to him. That means he was crazy, but rich. In case you didn’t know.

Actually, recent scholarship found that one of the oldest paintings of Starswirl was, in fact, a portrait of Night Song. So, if you ever see that one picture of a blue Starswirl with pink eyes, hanging in the Maretropolitan Museum? That’s actually Trixie’s forty-something Great Grandpappy. Oh yeah! He was one of the earliest Lulamoons on record. And if you told Trixie that, I bet her ego would eclipse the freaking sun!

Also, Draught. Batponies, in case you don’t know, aren’t a natural species. Luna created them via an alchemical concoction called The Draught. According to her, and to what records remain, this was her first big attempt to avoid her loneliness, by transforming some of her subjects into creatures of the night. I guess Night Song’s sister, Midnight Melody, was one of the few ponies who accepted the honor. While the batponies eventually bred true, the initial turnout was so small that it broke Luna’s heart, and may have significantly contributed to her feeling isolated from Equestrian life.

Small things, right?

“A Shadow Clone spell?” Luna’s eyes lit up, “Ambitious! Such a spell would normally be beyond the capabilities of even the most extraordinary unicorns.”

“Well, I am the Great and Extraordinary Trixie,” said I.

Then, without any pomp or circumstance, she dropped the other horseshoe.

“You can’t cast this,” she shook her head, “It’d kill you.”

Trixie understands that there are certain things you can’t say to royalty. There is a certain decorum that must be upheld, from one powerful individual, to another.

That being said, I won’t repeat what came, unbidden, to my mouth just then. Just that it mostly described how I, the Great and Lovable Trixie, would not be insulted to my face by a mere Princess. Luna was a bit shocked to say the least, especially once I got to all the four-letter words.

I coughed, to cover this minor faux pas.

“I mean… what do you mean by that, Your Most Excellent Highness?”

My apology must have been outstanding. Luna didn’t even zap me!

“What I mean, Trixie,” I could hear her teeth lightly grind up against each other as she said this, “is that most unicorns have… oh, how does that infernal new mana rating system go?

“Regardless,” she clearly gave up trying to remember the stupid mana chart system thing, “Your mana reserves are below average for a mare of your age, and apparent ability.”

Ah, magical academia. Perhaps the one field of research where I still feel like everypony involved thinks I’m an idiot just because I’m not a unicorn. But, for quick reference, Luna was referring to the old Aptitude – or M.A.G.I.C. – system, invented by Starswirl himself. It assigned letter-grades based on one’s aptitude and general power level. Being an M-class mage meant you were Magnificently magical. A-class meant you were Adequately magical. Being a G-class magician meant you were Generally Good at magic. I-class stood for Indeed-that’s-Technically magic. And C-class just meant you Couldn’t. Starswirl’s a bit sassy, isn’t he?

The modern system was created by Abra Cadabra, a leading magical theorist of the seventh century, and instead uses actual math to determine how much magical energy, or mana, a creature possesses, and what percentage of it they’re able to tap into regularly. Don’t ask me to do the math myself. All I know is it’s a ten-point system, with Alicorns at 10 (theoretically infinite), non-surging foals at 1, and Trixie at a whopping 3.

To put that in perspective, you were rated as a 6 when you were a filly, and a full 8-out-of-10 when you were living in Ponyville. Most ponies never crack 5. But I suppose it isn’t the size of the number that matters. It’s how you use it.

I’d bust out some numbers on all your other friends and acquaintances, but I got more Trixie to edit.

“I am not the Great and Powerful Trixie because I am powerful,” I snapped back, perhaps a little too quickly, “There’s more to magic than being powerful! You also…”

“… Have to be clever,” Luna said, and at the exact same time as me, “So, that’s where Starswirl picked up that old nugget! How wonderful!

“Again, though,” she dashed the spell with a wave of her hoof, dispelling it to the ether, “At best, you’ll never be able to cast spells again. At worst, your mind will be destroyed and your heart will explode in your chest.”

She had me, and I knew it. There’s only so much you can lie, especially to yourself, when not on stage. So, I admitted to all this.

“Well then,” she laughed, and clapped me on the back, “I suppose I shall have to help!”

Trixie thinks her jaw hit the floor when she heard that. And, it being a dream, maybe it did? Dunno. All I know for certain is that the Princess started glowing just then.

It was beautiful. Like, no joke, absolutely beautiful. If nighttime had its own rainbow, that’s what Luna was doing, right then, in my dreams.

Trixie doesn’t have the ability to describe it any further. Should have sent a poet.

But, after all the cool colors and light faded, I was even more shocked than ever before!

Yes! Trixie was actually shocked! For there, sitting on the dream-grass, was a little alicorn filly! Sure, she was made out of the night sky, and her eyes glowed purple. But a filly nonetheless!

Then, in an instant, she was gone.

“What was that?” I asked.

Luna took a few deep breaths, before she returned her attention to me. But, before she said anything, she looked away again. Just for a second. I didn’t bring it up then, but she almost looked embarrassed.

“That was a dream-construct,” she said, averting her eyes again, “The Tantabus is experimental, as of yet… but I can put it to good use here.”

Now, I might be out of the loop here, but that sounds like the dream-golem those crazed, conspiracy-theorist newsletter groups are always talking about. Do you think there’s some truth to that?

Aha! There it was! Luna was embarrassed about showing off her own spells! I was ~~honored~~ NO! Trixie was flattered, that a Princess would blush at the thought of showing an accomplished spellwright, such as myself, her work.

I gave her the best, most encouraging smile I could. As a master of magic, even a teacher, I knew I had to encourage those who came to me for advice, and to have their work appreciated.

“While it lays within your subconscious mind,” she continued to explain, “the Tantabus will provide a link between us. That link will ensure I might find you again, even without the aid of Ponhenge itself.”

“Useful,” I nodded along, “But how…?”

Luna cut me off with a smile.

“The connection will also allow me to direct the greater portion of my magic through the Dreamrealm, and into you, Trixie.”

Trixie was stunned.

“Your magic…?”

“Indeed,” she said, the dream humming with her words, “Your own mana reserves are too miniscule to utilize this spell. But, with the added might of an Alicorn Princess, you may yet be able to make your planned escape.

“But!” she added, with a stern glare, “Be forewarned. Though your mana channels appear impressively robust, the sheer power will—”

“Mana Burn,” I nodded, knowingly, “Yeah, I’ve had that before.”

Again, Luna nodded, “Then you are aware of the dangers. Prepare thyself!”

Zaldia went through a bout of Mana Burn, back when she was just a filly. Tried to self-levitate, so she could get herself and Treasure some cookies one night. Thankfully, a week of horn-rest, plus some salve from Apple Bloom, was all she needed to get better. If Trixie suffered from Mana Burn before, there’s no hospital record of it, and the effects can vary significantly depending on the amount of energy used.

Trixie took a moment, just to brace herself. I’d been Burned before, and knew it wasn’t too bad with the right ointment. But this would be on a whole ‘nother level. And, I’d only get one shot at it.

Then, Trixie noticed a curious look in the Princess’ eyes.

“Trixie?” she asked, looking straight through me, “A thought occurs. I followed you, once I knew you were aiming to collect the Alicorn Amulet…”

I started to sweat, instantly. A memory, long-forgotten in the back of my mind, suddenly popped back up.

Trixie was a dead mare.

So, confession time. See, Journal, Trixie’s shows didn’t start failing because ponies had heard about the whole Ursa affair, back in Ponyville. Nopony cared what happened in a little Podunk town like that.

My show fell apart because I, the Great and Powerful Trixie, was a fraud. And no, not like that! The Ursa thing showed me that there were ~~mares~~ ponies out there who could do all the things I just said I could. How could I be Great and Powerful on stage, when there was somepony out there actually being Great and Powerful in real life?

I tried my hoof at rock farming, but all that did was give Trixie time to seethe, and focus on my misery. I’ll admit to becoming a bit obsessed, at the time. It wasn’t all that bad, since I made friends with the Pies, but in the end, all I could think about was beating Sparkle at her own game, and proving to myself that I could be Great and Powerful again!

However. I needed to try, just one more time, to be that Great and Powerful pony, without resorting to what I ended up resorting to.

And that performance went poorly. Like, cart crash poorly. Like, puking on your coltfriend’s mother when you first meet her, poorly. Like, assaulted royalty, poorly.

For one, very obvious, Alicorn-shaped reason.

“Trixie…” Luna narrowed her eyes at me, “I walked into your performance tent. And came out onto a stage.

“In the Dreamrealm,” I could feel sweat rolling down my neck as she kept staring, “You wouldn’t happen to know what happened to cause this… do you?”

“W-well,” I scuffed the dream-grass with one hoof, and took my own turn at avoiding eye contact, “I went back to my circus roots for that performance, and throwing horseshoes was my best act back in the day… and… you surprised me.”

“You knocked me out with a horseshoe!?”

“Technically, it was a coma,” I added, hoping this nightmare would end soon, “And, in any case, they banned me from throwing in my shows, so…”

“You put me into a coma with a horseshoe!”

“You promised you wouldn’t be mad!”

“I promised no such thing!!!”

Trixie was so, so relieved when the dream began to fall apart, just then. I could remember seeing the Princess’ eyes, and hoping – like, a lot – that her Tantabus thing wouldn’t find me again.

“We will discuss this later, Lulamoon,” she hissed. Then, her horn lit up like the sun itself, if the sun was silver.

Yeah, that was a doozy. Trixie woke up with somepony shaking her. ~~And despite~~

Swirly is reminding me to be honest. So, fine. I woke up screaming my head off. Happy now?

Once I’d calmed down, I realized it was Swirly who woke me up. We were lying out under the stars, and it was still very dark out. I asked him what was going on, but he was oddly quiet.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

Still, he said nothing. He just pointed at the top of my head. I reached up, but couldn’t feel anything.

“Your mane…” he squeaked out.

Panicking, hoping that a bat or something hadn’t nested up there again, I spun around, and got lost instantly. There was like, this mass of flowing silver and white stuff in my face! I sputtered, and backed away, but this stuff kept following me. It was like an aggressive spiderweb!

It was only then, that I realized something.

It wasn’t a spiderweb. It wasn’t spiderweb, at all!

It was my mane. In fact, Trixie’s whole mane and tail wafted around her. It was so surreal, being able to watch them flow, like a banner caught in a high wind. It was like Celestia and Luna’s mane.

Like a Princess.

Ah, the wavy mane. Something every colt and filly dreams about, at one point or another. I remember listening to a Mistmane lecture once, where she said it was a natural “magic exhaust” caused by mana-overflow. Ponies like her and Trixie, with reduced mana reserves, actually get it easier than those like Starswirl and Starlight, who’ve got absurd amounts from their Record’s Syndrome. Alicorns, obviously, all have it. Though, I suppose you can turn it off and on at will.

Who would turn something like that off!?

Trixie did not spend five minutes dancing around, by the way, marveling at her magical ‘do and giggling like a schoolfilly. That would be entirely out of character for me. Truly. And if I did, what of it, Journal? The wavy, ethereal mane look is cool!

Everypony dreams of having that sort of mane!

And I finally had it! For, like, five minutes. Before I’d probably blow up, or something.

But for those five minutes? Trixie was on fire! Take that, Sparkle!

Which, naturally, was when Swirly came back into the story.

“Trixie!” I could hear him, whimpering at my side, tugging on my cape, “Trixie, what’s going on? You’re scaring me!”

My whole world stopped, like I’d been hit with cold water, but for the soul. I hadn’t seen that look in his eyes since Hyneighria. Instantly, all that coolness and Great and Powerfulness I was jumping for joy over just stopped mattering.

Guess I have a soft spot for kids.

“Everything’s fine, Swirly,” I reached out, and gave him a quick hug. I could tell from the way he fidgeted that I was burning hot with mana overflow, just then.

I tried explaining what had happened, but it mostly came out as a jumbled mess. So, in lieu of the truth, I decided a fib would suffice.

“Through communing with the Magic of Friendship itself…!” Trixie declared, “I have temporarily absorbed a whole heck of a lot of magical energy!”

“How much?” he asked, to which I didn’t really have an answer, yet.

So, I found him one. I closed my eyes, and tried to feel along my mana channels, right down into the center of my being.

And oh mama! The POWER! It actually stole Trixie’s breath away, to look down where I’d always felt my magic, the core of what made me special, and see that—

I can still feel the void left behind, Journal. To look at your own self, where once you felt so secure, so mighty, and then to know how utterly, inconsolably tiny you really are. My normal magic is a puddle, Journal. But, for a moment, I knew what it was like to sail the Ocean.

My eyes were definitely blazing with white light when I opened them again.

“Swirly?” I said, my voice radiating with Power, “Get in the wagon.”

We quickly gathered up our things, and got ready for what might possibly be my greatest, and last, performance. He tossed the cooking wares back into the wagon, and I rolled up the blankets. While I hooked myself up to the wagon harness, he followed my directions perfectly, gathering up two of the small mirrors I’d been able to get back in Hyneighria.

Trixie felt terrible about smashing them, but it was the only way.

See, ~~Journal~~

I’m explaining things to a book. I need to talk to a pony about these things. Maybe if I come up with a name for the Journal? Then, it’d feel like talking to a pony, kind of. At least, I’d be able to pretend I’m not going crazy, and could be talking to somepony far off in the future.

Got it. Since I am Trixie Lulamoon, how about a sun-theme?

So, Celeste (yes! like Celestia!), the funny thing about mirrors is, they don’t actually show you yourself. All a mirror is, really, is a different version of you. It’s already reversed, after all, so it can’t be the real you!

So, by applying Venetian’s Fifth Hexograph, inverting the Quantum Entanglement Matrix, and drowning the whole thing in more magical energy than even Starlight’s ever seen, you get a classic Shadow Clone Spell!

I smashed the mirrors up with my bare hooves. I needed as many as possible, one for every Trixie the Timberwolves were going to chase. I’d always wanted to use this trick in a show, but I could never crack the mana issue. Making one clone took a gigantic amount of power. But, luckily, each one after that cost next to nothing.

If I’d only had more energy myself, like ~~Twilight~~ Sparkle, I could have done it. But now? Now, I had the power of Princess Luna on my side!

And as I cast the spell, two things became apparent.

One: I had a lot more energy than I thought I did. The clone spell started popping full-sized Trixies into the circle of stones. But, more than that! Each one had a cape and hat. And each one had a wagon, too!

And sticking out of each wagon? A little Swirly. How cute! I think he had a mild panic-attack at the sight, though. I could tell, since all of the clones, while moving and acting slightly off-model from each other, as part of the illusion, still displayed Swirly and I’s general emotions and movements. That included panic attacks.

And Two: I had a lot more energy than I thought I did. Too much energy. I hadn’t even bled off a third of Luna’s magic, giving me a sudden, and very unwelcome, idea of just how far ahead of me Princess ~~Twilight~~ Sparkle had gotten.

No time to dwell on that, I thought.

“Alright, Trixies!” I called out to the assembled masses of me. There were dozens of us, practically bursting at Ponhenge’s seams! I could see the same look on each one’s face, that look of grim determination, and eagerness. I could see in their eyes my own excitement!

And, I could see the Timberwolves’ glowing eyes, off in the tree line.

They looked worried.

“EVERY MARE FOR HERSELF!!!”

And like that, we scattered! Trixies went left, Trixies went right! North! West! Mirror-wagons kicked up mirror dust and smoke as they tore off in every direction. The wolves panicked, and many were simply overwhelmed by the sheer mass of wood and equinity that hurdled through their lines.

It was chaos! It was a masterpiece of the arcane arts!

And it had nothing to do with Swirly or me. Because, while all the Timberwolves were scrambling to catch their supposed meals, I was busy holding up an invisibility spell.

Those things are like pigs, by the way, Celeste—

Hm. I actually prefer Journal now.

So, Journal. Invisibility spells eat mana like it’s going out of style. Starlight could work hers because, as I’ve said before, she has mutant-levels of magic to spare. And yet, I was still no closer to burning away any of the white-hot magic flowing through my body.

Having that sort of magical stamina was cool, sure, and I wish I could have had something like that for one of my shows. But looking back, I probably wasn’t as scared as I should have been.

The last of the wolves had run off, by this point. At least, that’s what I hoped. Trixie’s eyesight may be unparalleled in the annals of pony history, but even she can’t see in the dark. I held the spell for another minute, just in case. But, when no more Timberwolves popped out, ready to snack away at us, I finally cut power.

“I can’t believe that worked!” I heard the little shrimp call out, from the increasingly visible wagon.

“Yeah?” I asked, though my attention was a little off at the moment. My mane was still wafting on an invisible wind, and that wasn’t a good sign. I could also feel my hooves vibrating, even standing still.

In case you don’t know, Journal, this was a bad thing. Mana Burn is no laughing matter, even for one so great and powerful as I, the Great and Powerful Trixie.

I seem to remember promising I’d try and stop doing that. The third-pony thing. Oh well.

“Well, I always believed in you!” Swirly said, doing a good job of walking back his little moment of doubt, “But that the Timberwolves fell for it? That was, simply put, amazing!”

Trixie noticed a clump of grass near me begin to blacken and curl up. Another bad sign. I quickly unhitched myself, before the raw heat coming off me could combust the harness.

Swirly started to realize something was wrong.

“Trixie? You’re still saturated with mana.”

I may have snarked a little hard back at him. “Oh? I hadn’t noticed that. Thank you, Swirly! I, the Great and Boiling Trixie, would never have—”

I didn’t get a chance to finish. A crackle of pink magic snapped off of my horn, and vaporized a small stone laying nearby. I needed to burn off this extra mana, and fast!

So, I started running through what spells I could do, that would use up a huge load of mana all at once. Sadly, the perfection with which I design my spells rendered this plan a bit pooey. All of my spells were designed with efficiency in mind. At least, all the ones I’d ever used on the road.

Which was when I had an idea.

Oh, I told Swirly what was going on during all this, Journal. Just pretend I’m having all sorts of witty, hilarious banter with him while all this is going down. Trust Trixie, it was good, but I don’t quite remember how it all went.

“What do you mean you might explode!?” was the most relevant thing he said all night.

Right, my idea. There was a spell I cooked up a long, long time ago. Heck, I think I was in Professor Thunder Wave’s Evocation Theory class when I came up with it. He was nice, if a bit of a lunatic.

Anyway, all I had to do, I figured, was recreate that spell! The one that got me ~~kicked out~~ graduated out of Celestia’s School. You know, for burning it down.

Specifically, I would need the Unabridged version.

The Magic Mortar.

Remember what I said before? About Trixie burning down a part of the school, and possibly immolating Celestia herself as part of a show and tell gone horribly wrong? If I could just see what’s about to happen, I’d bring popcorn.

Thunder Wave was the senior professor of Evocation and Conjuration magic at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns going on forty years. He attributed his long life with eating only bread dipped in hay-grease, and drinking one bottle of phoenix-brand cherry juice every day. Professor Wave is mostly remembered as a bit of a pyromaniac, and for the way he quit his job to pursue his dream. Of being an arsonist.

Seriously, the dude’s pushing one-forty, and he’s up for parole in another sixty. Let’s see if he makes it.

The spell that got me my life on the road was, more or less, a big old ball of mana conjured from the ether, and set on fire. Because “fire” works, right? Twelve-year-old me was kind of less Great and Powerful than I sometimes like to remember.

But, when I first came up with the spell, twelve-year-old me was also ambitious. Stupid, but ambitious. See, the spell had this little flaw in it that, while I wisely took out back then, could be easily added back.

That flaw? Infinite mana draw.

And that was precisely what Trixie needed now. A nice, big, hungry spell to soak up all this power. The air around me was beginning to shimmer, Journal. I had about a minute, I guessed, before I would probably actually blow up.

So, I began to build the spell. I waved Swirly off, as best as I could, but you know him. He saw this gargantuan ball of roiling pink magic building up at the tip of my horn, and he couldn’t help but start taking notes.

The whole of Ponhenge started shifting colors. The clearing turned a hideously unnatural shade of pink. Yes, I know that’s my magic-color, but Trixie wasn’t in the mood for it, just then. I could feel my mane beginning to burn.

Finally, when the ball had grown to the size of my wagon, I swept my head around, and let loose the spell! It arced up, and over the trees, carrying itself like a comet over the southern horizon! I was fairly sure there was just more Everfree that way, so there really wasn’t a chance of the spell hurting anypony.

Actually, Trixie solved another thousand year-old mystery just now. Yeah, I know.

Ancient pony astronomers, as well as some Griffin myths, stories from the Diamond Dogs, and tales from the Algonhinn tribe of donkeys, speak of a bright pink star that flashed through the sky one night. It was said to have lit up the night, then disappeared, followed by an even stranger event that I’ll let Trixie get on to mentioning.

But, before that, a fun fact! Said Pink Star, in addition to heralding major epoch changes in all the previously mentioned cultures, was also the cause of the downfall of the Doggone Empire, who suffered a major catastrophe when the “star” obliterated most of their surface kingdom. The area was glassed by the explosion, and over the centuries this blasted wasteland broke down into rocks and gemstones, due to the heat and pressure caused by Trixie’s attack.

That’s right. Trixie created the Rambling Ridge. I bet Rarity will love her now.

I felt like I’d just run a mile. Surely, I thought, that had to be enough. But, as I looked back into myself, I was horrified. There was still so much magic! Like, I couldn’t see the bottom of all that magic. Even if I had the time to cast the Magic Mortar again, it would take days of casting it before I would be at a safe level.

Fear gripped me, Journal. ~~Trixie~~ I was scared. This wasn’t fun or exciting anymore. My nervous system was going to start burning away, if I held onto this much magic any longer. My brain could melt, and my heart would explode in my chest! And worst of all, I’d leave poor Swirly all alone. Again.

I needed something. Anything. I needed an idea. Some magic-wasting, totally crazy move, or else the Great and Powerful Trixie was about to become a Great and Powerful crater.

That’s what I was thinking. And then, Trixie made the connection.

Crater.

Craters.

What also has craters and would take a monumental amount of magic to affect!?

No.

THE MOON

Sure enough, that brilliant, silver ball was right overhead! And, really, how hard could it be to shove around? The Princesses can do it, and I was currently channeling one metric buckton of Alicorn juice.

How hard could it be?

I wish I could stop saying things before I try them. Tempting fate is such a Sparkle move.

My fur was starting to crackle, so I reached out with my mind, like you’d do for any sort of telekinesis spell. My horn lit up, and my magic tensed, but nothing happened. I tried again. Still, nothing.

I was running out of time. I tried one more time, but the stubborn moon wouldn’t budge. Worse, was that I could actually feel it! I knew I’d made contact, but nothing was happening! It was like trying to get a cat to do what you wanted!

I wasn’t having it. I even said as much.

“This isn’t over!” I remember saying, out of sheer frustration, “I’m not going to be beaten by some big, glowy rock! Not another one!”

Still, the moon held. And it held. And it held.

“I am the greatest magician…”

And there it was. Sometimes, even Trixie surprises Trixie how tricksy and clever I am!

See, I have no idea what actually keeps the Moon and the Sun up in the sky. Outside of the Princesses, of course. But there weren’t any Princesses yet. So, what was holding the Moon up?

Whatever it was, all rules were made to be broken! And what better way to break this particular rule, than by falling back on my best trick?

Playing to the crowd.

My bones started vibrating, and I knew that I had one more chance at this.

Trixie reached out, one more time. I could feel my magic about to wrap its way around the Moon… when I pulled back.

It was faint, but I could feel something else there, too. Before, the Moon had pushed back when I tried to grab it. Now that I was just holding next to it, it almost felt like the Moon was curious.

Oh, but it was more than curious, Journal. I knew it. The Moon was surprised. Like a foal who just saw one of my tricks, and wasn’t sure if any magic had happened at all.

I moved my magic away, just a bit. And I could almost feel the Moon’s attention draw nearer. I wonder if Luna had to work with the Moon like this?

Either way, the more and more I moved my magic across the sky, the more the Moon took notice. Also, not to put too fine a point on it, but Swirly’s voice was beginning to fade from my hearing. The stars twinkled, and winked out. I couldn’t feel my hooves anymore.

I was probably dying just then. No biggie.

Finally, I felt something else, up there in the heavens. Something that was every bit as hot, and as energetic, as the Moon was cool and placid.

Just below the horizon, I could feel the Sun.

My magic tickled it, as I approached. It almost giggled, even.

“Oh, what is this? Who are you? Are you a friend?” it almost seemed to say.

I teased it, prodded at it. The Sun didn’t so much push back, as it did simply let my grip slide off of it, like water off a duck’s back. Honestly, I felt like it was teasing me back. If I had more time, the Sun would have probably let me move it.

But I didn’t have time. And the Moon was right there, just floating in the back of my mind’s eye. It was curious, still. But it wasn’t surprised anymore.

It was jealous.

Oh, yeah. The Sun and Moon were just like their Princesses would eventually be. And, if everything I knew about Luna was true, then all I had to do was make it think I wasn’t giving her the attention she demanded.

And that, dear Journal, is when Trixie struck back!

I slammed the moon with my magic, wrapping it all up like a Hearth’s Warming present. It refused! It snarled, and it bit… but there was no escape!

Even the Sun seemed shocked!

In fact, it was so shocked, that its guard was down.

In for a penny, I thought, and so I grabbed the Sun as well!

“My name is Trixie Lulamoon!” I cried, though I’m not sure if I could talk at the moment, “I am the Great and Powerful! The most magical unicorn of all time! AND YOU WILL OBEY ME!”

The Sun and Moon glared daggers at me. I know. I could tell. There was something ineffably angry at me. I could feel it through my magical connection.

But, see, when you glare at anypony, it’s the first to look away that loses.

The Sun and Moon blinked.

And just like that, the sky lit up. Sun and Moon rocketed up to the highest point of the sky, half the world in gold, the other in silver. All my magic, borrowed and not-borrowed, seemed to fall away as the two spheres roared in the heavens.

They crossed, and for a second, I felt nothing. The Sun and Moon eclipsed, and the whole world turned gray.

My stomach dropped out from under me. The power was gone. All gone. Every drop. My mane drooped, and my legs gave out.

I thought I died. The whole world disappeared.

All except for Swirly’s scream, that followed me into oblivion.

I honestly have no words. What could I possibly—

I just got the news. I’m coming. I’m getting on the train to Canterlot in the morning, and I’m bringing the whole journal. We don’t have time. Cabbie and the kids are coming too.

I am not going to finish this thing posthumously.

Author's Note

Behold: Night Song (Lulamoon)

Starswirl - Oh deer...

By the Horn of Starswirl, 405 A.G.

There come along moments in one’s life when one cannot help but feel the world turn on its axis. Those rare and almost ephemeral seconds in between breaths when you realize that nothing will ever be the same again or perhaps that it was never as you imagined it in the first place. I have had the opportunity fortune to have witnessed three such epochal moments in my life.

One of these moments, and my proudest, was when I and the Pillars came together for the first time. To realize your dream of uniting the tribes, even on such a small scale, reinvigorated me in ways that nothing else had in my long, lonely eternity without you.

And after that, when I first held the Princesses in my own hooves, and realized what you always saw in them.

But before both of those, was when I beheld you, wresting control of the heavens themselves. The sun and the moon, shackled to your will, following the slow arc of your hooves as you stood amidst a maelstrom of magic. You were the eye of the storm, wreathed in such majesty that I had not ever considered possible.

In hindsight, I should say that every moment with you, I could feel the world move beneath my hooves.

I think that was the moment. The moment I fell in love with you.

I’d always suspected something was different about you. But you confused me, as well. You were so powerful, so ingenious in your approach to sorcery, so creative in how you applied your talents. And yet, as I read this journal again, and as I recall some of our later talks—

Even now, I can’t quite reconcile you. Your two selves. Trixie Lulamoon, the mare who practiced sleight of hoof and stagecraft, who thought she was a sham, a fraud living a life not her own. And Trixie, the Great and Powerful. The mare who inspired me to pursue magic, who saved my life, in that accursed forest. The mare who taught me that friendship could lift me from my despair.

The mare who could move the sun and moon.

Wherever you rest now, Trixie, know that you were never a fraud. My last words to you still ring in my ears.

“I’ll make you proud,” I said, in the halls of Tambelon, as Grogar’s dark empire fell down around us.

I can only pray that I have.

There does, however, appear to be a small gap in your recollection here. Allow me to rectify that, this last time I hold your words myself.

Daring here. Sorry about the silence. I know it’s been a few days. I tried to get to Canterlot on my own, but you know my family. Don’t worry about us; between Cab’s salary and my books, we’ve got more than enough to crash at one of the hotels in Canterlot. And, there’s a pool! So the kids’ll keep out of my mane while I get back to the project at hoof.

Thank you, again, for allowing me access to the Royal Library. Research has been a breeze so far, and now I can check in with Moondancer and your other scholars directly, so that’s been helpful.

I know you’ll figure out some way to help Trixie. I know it doesn’t always come across that way, but I really do—

Appreciate? Respect? Not sure which fits more. Both seem kind of inadequate, you know?

Still. Looks like another Starswirl passage. Which is fantastic! Hopefully, Swirly here is a little more informative with the historiographical stuff. While I love doing extra research for this, finding out about Equestria’s past from ponies who saw it first-hoof is better.

With the eclipse, the spell was broken. Awe was suddenly replaced by fear as the world fell into gray shadow. I screamed, a numbing sensation of horror overtaking my senses, as I thought for a moment that the world had ended!

Not my proudest moment, I know. Mother often talked, longingly, of the eclipse. Her parents were astronomers, I don’t think I ever mentioned, and she always held a fascination for such things. One would think I would have recognized it from her stories. Still, it was an emotional moment. I should be forgiven for panicking.

The eclipse finished as soon as it began. The sky’s utter blackness gave way to day in a most peculiar fashion. The sun sank quickly to the horizon, scuttling along as though it were embarrassed to be out at such an hour, where everypony could see it. The moon retreated as well, though far more slowly.

Somehow, it looked fuller, to my child-mind. Oh, if only we knew what had happened. Not like we could have stopped it, at that point. Nothing seems to survive a direct impact with the Great and Powerful Trixie, after all. Even the phases of the moon.

But that was the least of my worries.

All the grass and vegetation had burned away around you, leaving a blackened ring once the spell had ended. I had only a few seconds of daylight before the heavenly spheres returned to their proper placements, and my shock at that had to fall by the wayside.

I might have undersold just how badly the spell had drained you. I can remember the way you just lay there, completely drained of life, and vigor. Your mane clung to your sweat-soaked body, limp and unmoving. There were scorch marks all up and down your coat, from your nose to your tail, and from the tips of your ears down to your hooves. Especially your hooves. They were so scorched, so ruined by the Grounding Effect, that I thought you would never walk again.

Worse was your horn. Blackened and cracked, it looked like you’d been struck by lightning. Raw pink mana oozed angrily from where your skin and keratin splintered. It turned my stomach to see.

I attempted to rouse you, but you were held tight in Marepheus’ grip. I ran back to the wagon, and fearfully tore through the medical supplies Firefly had provided you. I had no talent for the healing arts, something I always envied about Mistmane, once I knew her, but I was not entirely useless.

Marepheus, from what little I could gather, was an ancient Pre-Equestrian Dream Deity. Alicorn, more like, if the hieroglyphs are accurate. He created dreams, defended ponies from nightmares, and was known for being tall, dark, and handsome (seriously, that’s what the glyphs say!).

He had a wife, according to most myths. An Alicorn who served as the Princess of Time, actually.

Ask Luna or Celestia about it. And take a picture. I wanna see the look on their faces!

Firefly had mostly given you bandages, which was helpful, but little in the way of poultices and salves, which was not. Working quickly, I wrapped your hooves as best as I could. It was a clumsy effort, all told. Your horn was worse. I had no idea what I was doing, only that a tight wrap had to be better than leaving it open to the cold air.

I was too panicked to realize the weather had shifted. The sun and moon brought heat and cold all at once to the world, and a fine mist sprang up from the sudden imbalance caused by their rapid passing.

I am sorry to say, it took me a considerable amount of effort to drag you back into the wagon. Not only was I of small stature, but you were surprisingly heavy.

I’m sure it was the muscles. Your beautiful, well-toned muscles.

Clover just called me a dirty old stallion. He’s been reading over my shoulder, apparently. Clover the Pest, that’s what they should call him.

I’m suddenly very, very sorry for how I must have behaved around you.

After securing you in your hammock, I lashed myself to the harness as best I could, and tried to pull the wagon myself. I was sure I could find somepony to help with your injuries if I could only get us out of there.

I honestly don’t know how you did it. Perhaps I was a bit scrawny for a colt my age, but that wagon had to weigh a couple tons, at least! I struggled, and struggled, just to get the wheels rolling, and it took a whole minute to get past the boundary stones.

I promised you I’d write this story down one day. I guess this is me finally keeping to that promise.

If nothing else, the experience convinced me that you had been kind in how you described my physical fitness. I must have been the worst assistant to deal with, up until that point, complaining as I did about the marching, and the food, and the weather. I was a pampered brat who’d never worked an honest day in his life.

And that might have been the death of us both had Gaea Everfree and her Children not found me just then, struggling along the forest path. I was surprised, later, that you had never heard of the Deer of the Everfree. In my recollections, I suppose we ponies may not have been the kindest of neighbors to that ancient people, but it still worries me to think that they have completely vanished by your time.

Why did nopony tell me about this Mirror Universe!? I had to hear about it from Carmare! Apparently, I was lost in the jungles during my Marechu Pichu expedition (Daring Do and the Mummy Lord’s Revenge) when you made the public announcement, and I cannot believe it’s taken me twenty years to find out!!!

The fact that there’s another me out there, but one who’s just an author (or so she claims) is freaky enough, but there’s apparently two of you over there? Somehow? And the other Trixie?

So. Gaea Everfree. Not a lot about her on my end outside of a few references to a Queen of the Forests. She may have been another Alicorn, or perhaps some sort of primordial Spirit, like Discord—

The Lord of Stupid Pranks just doused me in purple glitter and tree sap. He doesn’t care for the comparison, I think.

Gaea apparently made an appearance in the hooman world at some point, laying claim to something called Camp Everfree. I guess your counterpart and her friends later took down a hooman sorceress that was using her name, but beyond that, Gaea seems to have disappeared entirely from both worlds. So expect to have to fight her when she inevitably shows up again.

Hey, it happened with Nightmare Moon, Tirek, Discord, and Grogar. I’ve adventured enough to know the signs.

The Deer are more interesting, at least to me. They appear in a lot of pre-Equestrian art and literature, mostly as phantoms and ghostly, fey-creatures. Many of their myths focus on their ability to change shape or conjure illusions. Or, in the Great Seedling’s case, bless crops with eternal bountifulness. Despite the myths, a lot of researchers think they may have been the local natives of the area prior to Ponies entering the region where Equestria now sits. That fact gives me a bad feeling about what happened to them. Migrating populations aren’t usually kind to other creatures when they need a new place to live, and I’ve never heard of a living Deer in my lifetime.

I’ve also noticed that Trixie’s travels have been taking her around Equestria during a time when there shouldn’t be any ponies around. So, I’m starting to think that stuff about an ancient homeland prior to the Windigos’ appearance is bunk or has been heavily altered by later storytellers.

Dangit, Trixie. You’ve ruined Hearth’s Warming for me.

A shame, considering their jaw-dropping beauty.

They appeared from out of the trees just as I had almost given up the ghost. My legs were shivering, my lungs were aching, and my vision began to spin. Hauling you and the wagon, even a few dozen yards, was going to kill me.

And you wondered where my sudden exuberance for exercise came from, after this.

I never heard them approach. Perhaps that was my own exhaustion, but even still. I felt a spearpoint touch my neck before I saw the Deer. They were very much like ponies, only covered in thick, leafy hides and carapaces that shone like gemstones! Emeralds and blues and reds and all other colors besides! Gossamer wings carried them silently through the air and the trees.

I’d never seen anything like them before. They were fantastical. Insectoid ponies, perhaps partly plant-based, yet swarming about me like a rainbow of locusts. And I couldn’t take my eyes off of them.

That was, until Gaea herself appeared.

She was tall. Very tall. As tall as the very trees, nearly half the height of the library back in Hyneighria! And her coat was made of some dark wood I had never seen before, topped with a flowing mane of leafy green around a skull-like mask of white.

Seeing their Queen, I recalled what my father had said to me of the Deer, the Fair Ones, and their nature:

Deer are wonderful. They provoke wonder.
Deer are marvelous. They cause marvels.
Deer are enchanting. They weave enchantment.
Deer are terrific. They beget terror.
Nopony ever said Deer are nice.
Deer are bad.

But with nowhere to go, surrounded as I was, I knew it was too late to run. The monstrous Everfree strode towards me, flanked by two similarly statuesque doe – one golden hued and the other sapphire – and a single near-mountainous stag of amethyst make, with horns to match his grandeur.

These three, clearly royal deer, looked down upon me as if I were a muddy patch of road. Now, I would have stood tall in their presence. Cast them into another dimension if they sneered at me as they did so then. But I wasn’t Starswirl the Bearded, yet. I was Starswirl, the apprentice. The child.

So awed was I, by their grandeur, that I began to kneel as a reflex.

These three laughed at my nervousness, the sapphire one most of all, with a venomous cackle that has followed me to this day. Their followers joined in, mocking me for my size, for knowing when to ‘bow before my betters,’ as they said.

Gaea commanded silence without raising her voice above a whisper. Her three followers hushed themselves without hesitation, their soldiers snapped to rapt attention, and even the trees about us ceased to creak and moan. I felt the wind itself slow at her command, and in that stillness I was gripped with terror at the authority in her tone.

She fixed her cold, emerald eyes, like a green flame resting atop a black lake, upon my own, and said, “I am Gaea Everfree, Protector of this Wood, and all forests beneath the sun. Give me your name, and your purpose here.”

I glanced around, and found at least a couple dozen eyes following me. The forest trail was packed with these shape-changing creatures, these Deer of the Everfree. A few, I could see, wrapped themselves in fire, transforming into Timberwolves, Ursas, and even a Cragadile. They were preparing for trouble, if I had a mind to give it to them.

Recalling what I could from the Old Tales, I knew I could not give them my real name. They said that Deer could steal your soul if they had that. I know now, through my studies, how nonsensical that was, but I was twelve, I will have you recall.

“Call me… Star… Book,” I said, “Yes. Star Book. The Great… and, uh, Powerful!”

I can hear you sniggering, somewhere in the back of my memories. Or that’s Clover again. Pest.

Gaea smiled, or perhaps smirked, at this foalish display.

“Well met, Star Book,” she replied in a not-unkindly, courtly manner. She then quickly introduced the towering deer at her side. The sapphire one, fangs inching out of her maw, was Caprecilia. The gold, with her green mane tied into a long set of loops, was Pupotinae. And the last, the mighty stag with the amethyst carapace, was Cervingetorix. They were her children and the leaders of the Deer Tribes.

It might seem obvious by this point, but on a hunch, I contacted Ocellus and Prince Pharynx when I read those names. And you won’t believe what we found.

Queen Chrysalis had destroyed most of her people’s records centuries ago, probably for some sort of crazy bug lady reasons, or in a fit of pique. Whichever day of the week came first. But King Thorax has spent the last three decades seeking out his hive’s lost knowledge and its history. I’m very tempted to join up with his researchers, once everything with Trixie is concluded.

But his research has born some fruit. Including the name of Chrysalis’ mother and Thorax and Pharynx’s grandmother: Queen Cilia. Queen Caprecilia, if the thousand-year-old records are correct.

Now, what caused the Deer to become the old, black and holey changelings we used to know and despise?

Immediately, Gaea demanded to know what I was doing in her domain. Tired as I was, I was apparently not as quick as I could have been to answer. Caprecilia shouted at my impudence for ‘taking the Queen’s precious time’ in vain, and nearly struck me on the spot! Were it not for Gaea’s flash of rage at her daughter’s actions, she may very well have killed me there.

“You would raise your hoof to a child?” Gaea admonished.

Caprecilia spat, and said that it was no different to what ponykind had done to their people. “They have driven us from our own lands and into this place!” she cried, “What right do they have to protection?”

Gaea clearly did not like that at all.

“Cilia, my child,” she said, in deathly silence, “a venom has entered your heart. A venom that shall leave holes as surely as the knots in my trees. I foresee only sorrow if you continue as you are.”

At their Queen’s command, I was then given water and asked to tell of my tale. It took what felt like hours, but I told them everything I knew, besides where and when you had come from.

Again, Caprecilia wanted to kill you.

“She has corrupted the Cycle!” she snarled, “Interrupted the passage of the ages! The Arc of Time has—”

“Do not speak her name!” Gaea shouted her down, “She has an annoying habit of turning up whenever one does so.”

But in this case, Cervingetorix came to his sister’s aid, decrying you, fair Trixie, for what you had done to the sun and moon. He called for your destruction and, indeed, the destruction of all ponykind.

Gaea would not hear of it.

“This has all been foreseen,” was all she said. She reached out and pulled you from the wagon with her own magic, and turned your sleeping form over.

I may have said some unkind things in my foalish attempt to protect you from her. I suppose the direst of threats from a twelve-year-old foal don’t have much of an impact on the Spirit of Nature itself, if that is what she was. She didn’t even notice though her guards had their weapons at my throat again, lightning quick.

“You do not die this day, Trixie Lulamoon,” she hissed, and to this very day I could not say if it was with malice or not, “Your Doom lies far from here, in a country unborn, beyond the horizon of eternity…

“As does mine,” she sighed. She set you down in the wagon once more. Then, with a simple gesture, she drew Pupotinae to her.

The golden doe reached under her wing and produced a vial of something I could not identify. A substance that burned as blue as the sun shone yellow.

Gaea commanded her to bind up your wounds with the strange substance, and that was when everything began happening at once. The stag screamed at the top of his lungs, and Caprecilia tried to swipe away the potion, only to be stopped by her sister’s outstretched hoof.

I couldn’t follow what they said. Even now, I couldn’t rightly tell you what precisely they spoke of. But, in my best recollection, Caprecilia thought you and I were monstrous for your handling of the sun and moon, and that all of ponykind should be subjugated for our ‘crime’. I believe Cervingetorix disliked wasting such a precious resource, a rare potion of his own design, more than he agreed on punishing ponykind.

Pupotinae seemed startled, nearly shrinking away from the both of them as they snarled and hissed. I noticed that, as the three fought, their warriors began to shift. Some drew to Cervingetorix’s side, their armored coats shifting to brilliant purples and red. Some drew opposite, their transformative magic turning them blue as Caprecilia’s own colors.

I worried, for a moment, that I was about to bear witness to a civil war.

It was only Gaea’s own vehemence that brought them into silence. I remember little of what she said, sadly. The years have erased much of that night.

“This world is no longer my concern!” she cried, “A new age has dawned. Literally. This world belongs to Them now. The time when nature shall be inviolate and its own master has passed forever! It is now in the ponies’ hooves whether or not this change shall spell disaster and doom for the whole world. That is their burden.”

She turned to me and explained the potion’s use. I was to bind up your wounds and liberally apply the concoction. You would sleep for a time, but awaken refreshed and restored. Even in my state – confused, hungry, and tired – I maintained as much decorum as I knew how to give.

I turned back to the wagon and went inside. You lay, prostrate, on the floor. I hadn’t the strength to lift you up into the hammock before, and so I tried my best to help you where I could.

Behind me, I wish I’d paid attention now. The whole forest erupted into screams and curses. I was too tired to care. While I could hear the Deer raging at one another, I slowly ripped off your bandages. I winced as I saw the cracks in your hooves, your horn. You would never walk again. Never cast another spell. Not without this miracle cure.

There were more cries, of outrage and of pain, as I took the salve in that potion vial, and I applied it to your wounds. It had a sandy texture to it, that strange concoction. I wish I’d asked what it was made of. Perhaps greater healing secrets were at my hooftips that night.

But I was tired. And you were in pain.

When it came time to bandage you back up, however, I nearly collapsed. There was nothing left. It had all been bled from me, in stress and worry, from Ponhenge and then through the ordeal with Aeva. Trying to haul you out of that place, with the loaded wagon, was simply too much for me.

A moment passed. Then, your body began to glow. For a moment, I thought something terrible was happening, again. But the emerald shine was merely Gaea, who stood now at the wagon’s door and held you in her aura.

There was nothing else in the surrounding woods. Not a sound, even. I asked what had happened.

Her people had fought, and they had chosen their paths, she said. Caprecilia’s heart was poisoned, and she would leave the land forever, an endless hunger within her. Cervingetorix and Pupotinae had stayed true, and would follow Gaea away from this world, wherever that ended up being.

She held you aloft and allowed me the time to bind you up once more. As she set you up into your hammock, she did me one further kindness. She had shrunk in size, til she was little larger than yourself, and she tied the wagon harnesses to her.

“Sleep, ye both shall,” Gaea Everfree spoke, and my eyes began to falter, “for three days, and three nights. When the cockatrice calls on the fourth dawn, ye shall be awakened. Until then, permit me a moment to keep you safe from the Ram’s reach.”

I knew no more as sleep took me. When I finally awoke, there was no more Gaea, and no Everfree forest.

Only you, snorting fitfully as you returned to me.

And that seems to be a wrap for Starswirl, at least for now. And in his wake, I am left with more questions than answers. Again.

That seems to be a running theme, I know. My hooman self said she’d look more into the Everfree thing and see if any clans, tribes, or civilizations in her world might have some legends pertaining to Gaea, Cervingetorix, or Pupotinae, but I don’t have a lot of faith she’ll find anything. Not a real adventurer, that one. It’s just so frustrating that Trixie and Starswirl keep bumping into these mysteries, and only seem to answer one question for every five they introduce! It’s maddening!

Carmare wants to know if she can donate anything to help. Time, magic, whatever. Ahuizotl already got back to me on the ‘life-extending artifact’ front, but that’s a dead end.

Sorry. Word choice. Moving on...

Author's Note

This chapter brought to you by: Procrastination!

Also my state being on fire, my country being (metaphorically) on fire, and having to drop two-to-four other stories that I started, but just couldn't get to work right.

A cookie to anyone who can figure it out what I did to get the three new changeling names.

Past - Galloping to Gallopoli

~~T ri xiE Lulumun~~

Trixe Lulomon

Trixie.

Tiks

Trixie Lulamoon.

Trixie Luman

Trixie Lulamoon. The ~~Greet~~

The Grat

Teh

Lulamoon

*indecipherable scrawls*

///\/\//-//-\//\/\/-\/\/-/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/\/\//\//////////

Trixk

Trixie

Trixie

Trixie Lulamoon.

I am Trixie Lulamoon, the Great and Powerful.

I am the Great and ~~Poweful~~ Trixie Lulamoon.

*some text illegible, obscured by water droplets*

My magic’s finally stabilized. I think my horn’s working ~~agin~~ again.

I think my horn is working again. Thank Luna.

Sorry about the drop off, Journal. It’s been a time and a half. Not that you would be aware of the time skip. You know. You being a Journal.

Not sure if even the ~~Great and~~ stop it Trixie

It’s been two weeks since I was able to use magic. As it turns out, trying to move the sun and moon isn’t as easy as the Princesses make it look. Every channel in my body must’ve blown out, the way Swirly talked about my injuries. But whatever was in that salve Swirly found, it seems to have done its job.

If I’d had my magic back from day one, I might’ve been able to scan the stuff, but oh well. It’s the only reason I’m not learning to write with my mouth or hooves, so I’ll take it. Still, even weeks later, my everything hurts. The feedback from my stunt could have—

Nevermind. It didn’t.

Been an eventful two weeks, Trixie supposes. Guess I’ll try and catch you up.

I woke up from what felt like a dreamless sleep. Kind of a nice change of pace, considering my dreams lately. I just sort of floated along in a black room, it felt like, though I couldn’t help but feel like somepony was watching me the whole time.

Swirly was ecstatic to see me get up. On balance, it’s not too bad to have somepony give you a teary-eyed hug right as the day begins. Even considering how much everything hurt. I was basically in a haze that whole first day.

Well, when I wasn’t crying. I managed to hold it in a little around Swirly, but my magic was gone. The little flame inside me that told me I could be as Great and Powerful as I always pretended to be was just a cold void.

Starlight showed me something once. That Friendship Table of Twilight’s, the one that got me here, can do all sorts of things with time, I guess. I mean, it’s how all these stupid time travel spells work, after all.

The table can, with the right spell, show you all sorts of what-if’s, Journal. Trixie scoffed, at first. But curiosity got the better of me. So, I asked Starlight to let me try it out, once. Sparkle was off doing something else, so she wouldn’t bother us.

I asked a couple of questions, and the table showed me the answers. It was amazing! Until it wasn’t.

Trixie asked the usual questions one would ask of such a thing. I saw myself as a filly, entering Celestia’s school for the first time. I saw my first show. I saw myself and Starlight on our first (failed) roadtrip.

I saw Mom, again.

And then, Trixie got greedy. As usual. I asked about the Ursa thing. That time Snips and Snails dragged an Ursa Minor back to Ponyville and almost got everypony hurt.

Trixie asked the table, “What if I’d been braver?”

I threw up. That’s what happened, when I saw what could have happened to me. What did happen, if Starlight’s right about other timelines and other worlds.

There’s a Trixie out there without her horn. Without her magic. And, for a couple of hours, I thought I was that Trixie too.

Luckily, that wasn’t actually the case. When Swirly managed to rummage up some roots and a few wild pears for dinner, though I was tired and aching I reached out to grab one of the cooking pots, and instantly regretted it.

There was a flash of pink fire, as white-hot pain shot through my horn, and down into my stomach. I must have blacked out, because the next thing I knew, I was on my back, by a roaring fire, and the sun had set again.

And then, I cried again. If I’d been totally burned out, I couldn’t have done anything. I couldn’t have felt anything. But, with the pain, I knew that my magic was still there! It was just hiding, for a bit.

Swirly finally explained the full story behind the salve. I think I managed to keep my poker face the whole way through, since he still seems to think I’ve never heard of Deer before, or that I couldn’t recognize Changelings when I heard about them.

Deer stories are what travelers and showponies tell around a campfire whenever we meet and feel like scaring each other.

~~Oh! But, Journal! Did you know that the Deer were actually Changelings!?~~

I’m going to pretend I didn’t just lose my mind there.

But, yeah. Holy Horseapples! I gotta tell Thorax when I get back! And maybe check in on Kevin, again.

Seriously Kevin, how did you not think molting would be a dealbreaker for Trixie?

Okay, lot to unpack there. I’m glad Trixie only had to deal with the idea of losing her magic for a little while. I think it’s safe to say that pegasi have a similar phobia about our wings.

Also, that table sounds amazing. You mind if I use it sometime? For science?

Right, Kevin. Changelings have weird names, I’ve noticed. According to what records exist in the Hive, Kevin apparently dated Trixie for almost a year after she helped reform the Changelings. I have a New Jockey police report here that he took her on a date during molting season, she flipped out a bit, and a city block was demolished in the ensuing panic.

They broke up, if you couldn’t tell.

Don’t feel too bad for Kevin, though. He’s now happily married with sixteen foals, or nymphs I guess they’re called, four of which are students at your old School of Friendship.

I couldn’t let on about what I knew, however. Back home, nopony knew about changelings until that one wedding in Canterlot, after all. And, since Trixie has, shall we say, had her fair share of accidental time slip-ups, I decided to make a concentrated effort on this one.

Still, I was over the moon that whole night. Not literally, ~~obviously~~

Well, not obviously, obviously. I mean, I did move the moon once.

Anyway, I was doing better. That salve had worked a wonder on me. Though, could have done a little better. Trixie still looked like Rainbow Dash that one time she flew into a lightning storm with a copper pot on her head.

All I can get out of Rainbow is that she lost a bet with Pinkie, and told me never to speak of it again.

This was a problem. Presentation is everything, in my line of work. If I can’t cover something up with makeup, or make it part of the act, it’s a liability. So, I, the Great and Powerful Trixie, have always made sure to collect additional clothing and make-up accoutrements for my shows. With said accoutrements being back up-time from me, however, I had to make due.

Trixie took some of the leather that Ribbon Wishes gave me, and I managed to create a set of thin boots, to hide the blackened and scarred remains of my poor hooves. I wasn’t worried about them healing. I’ve been hurt like this before, or close enough. A few weeks of being careful, some minor applications of Rubber Band’s Aide spell every night, some lotion, and I’d be right as rain!

Trixie seems to have a habit of breaking out of hospitals, but she has also sought treatment from them. A lot. I think I’ve mentioned it before, but the number of emergency room visits on her record are quite astounding. Apparently, there’s not an insurance company around that will cover her anymore! She’s currently insured on something called the Ponyville Damages and Emergency Rehabilitation Protocol, which insures the town against natural and unnatural disasters, magical catastrophes, bunny rampages, Rainbooms, Discord, Cutie Mark Crusaders, and something called ‘Derpy helping’.

Applejack added Trixie onto the DERP five years ago as her second official act as Mayor. Banning Flim and Flam from being within a mile of the town apparently took precedent.

That being said, there were still the burns across my flanks and side. And my horn. My poor horn. Those had to be addressed.

Trixie would never claim to be as skilled as Rarity in the fine art of fashion, but I think I did alright for myself. Sure, I needed a bit more of the blue cloth for my forelegs, to give the illusion that my flesh wasn’t ~~totally ruined~~—

Ahem.

Why did I ‘ahem’ in writing?

Anyway. Ended up with a lovely little stage outfit. Blue cloth and leather for my poor hooves and legs. Gray and white for my barrel, with a flashy bit of red to top the whole thing off! I’d noticed more than a few ponies wearing clothes ~~hereabouts~~ whenabouts, so all this meant was that I was blending in more.

Oh, and my purple hat. Kept that, naturally. The cape would be waiting for my triumphant return, but for now I needed the new outfit’s physical support more than my cape’s hidden stage-pockets.

Especially since I wasn’t about to let Swirly take the reins on the wagon. Those first few days back on the road, he was so pushy. Kept demanding a chance to pull the wagon, no matter how much it clearly dragged him down. He has guts, and grit, I’ll give him that.

Still, I put my hoof down (gently) on the subject. He needed more strength training, more magic training, and he needed to start small. So, it was back to hefting a boulder. I was surprised, actually, how he went right out and hefted up a fat-looking one as soon as I told him to.

He was taking to my training like a fish. In water, I mean. ~~A fish wouldn’t take to a boulder~~

Right, you get it. ~~Except you’re a book, so~~

How am I back to being crazy!?

I can’t even begin to tell you, Journal, how happy I was to finally get out of that stupid Everfree forest. The path we were following was rough, and hilly, and the wagon harness pulled at every scratch and cut and crack on me. I was almost tempted to let Swirly have his way and pull the wagon himself, but I could see he was still struggling with that boulder. Admittedly, he was doing about as well as I expected, but the fact that he didn’t complain once convinced me to pull through as well.

It was incredible, stepping out of the thick woods, and onto the top of a hilly green slope. The sun was shining, and the sky was clear. And, most importantly, we were looking at a solid couple miles of downhill walking!

Of course, we’d have to switchback down most of the way, what with the lack of brakes on the wagons around here, but it was the thought that counted! Grey Prancer always said, “Never look a gift horse in the mouth!”

Why do ponies even have that saying?

Celestia, when I asked her, said it was a practical joke that got way, way out of hoof, and refused to elaborate. Luna, who was in the room as well, looked like she was sucking on a lemon, the way she bit her lip and tried not to cry, laughing. After we get this book done, I’m leaning on her for the whole story.

Trixie does wish she’d kept better track of the days, now that I think about it. But one bleeds into the next when you’re on the road.

Oh! Right. That was when we found the road. I thought that my great eyes were playing a powerful trick on me at first, as we came up over a small rise. But, no! There, just a mile away, was an actual, factual, road!

I think my horn might’ve fizzled at the sight.

What struck me about that road was that it wasn’t some dusty path like I’d seen back in Hyneighria. It was paved! Like, with cobblestones and stuff, but paved nonetheless. And it was so straight that I thought it was modern at first.

Though, since I’m back when, isn’t now modern, and when I’m from the future? Whatever.

Actually, now that I think about it, that road might’ve been straighter than the old Turnpike road that normally takes one from New Jockey to Baltimare. Which, ~~if Trixie isn’t mistaken~~

Trixie is never mistaken. I could tell, right away, that the road was on the precise spot of the future New Jockey Turnpike! How about that?

Good thing I don’t have civic pride, or that’d hurt.

Alas, the relative comfort of driving a shock-absorber-less wagon over a smooth road didn’t last long. For a few hours later, just as we pulled around a tall, wooded hill, Trixie ran straight into the last thing she wanted to see:

A roadblock, guarded by Troggles.

There must have been a dozen of them, a ~~plethora of pernicious porky~~

Bunch-a-pigs. Anyway, though we were coming around a bend in the road, there was just enough rocky cover on the hillside we were passing, that if I had my full range of cat-like reflexes and movements, we were sure to remain hidden. All I had to do was stop, and pull over.

I’m really trying to be better, Journal, about the “lying” thing. Trixie is a natural embellisher, however. It is her gift, and her curse.

But, yeah. That thing I tried to do didn’t happen. My knees were still in a semi-liquid state from all the damage I’d taken, and all the miles I’d hiked since. So, when I planted my hooves, my legs didn’t get the memo, and I found myself suddenly head over flank a couple of times, like a fifth wheel on the wagon, churning up the gravel with my teeth every time I spun around.

Swirly didn’t exactly help. He lost concentration on his spell, and wound up with his tail pinned by the boulder he’d been carrying. He then pushed the rock off himself, only for it to roll uphill, come back downhill, and almost run us both over again. By that point, I’d gotten twisted up so tight in the harness ropes that they spun the complete other way, somehow pushing the wagon back a few feet, and almost running over him.

The colt wound up face-planting in the little drainage ditch I’d originally wanted to hide in.

Trixie suspects black magic cursed me, and forced such an ~~ingab ign~~ not-cool thing to happen.

And down the road, the Troggles were just yucking it up. Like, full-on rolling across the floor, laughing. Some of them were crying, Journal, they were laughing so hard. Laughing at me, Trixie!

It was too much. If we’d been back in the ~~present~~ my own time, I’d have marched right up there, and given those trotters a piece of Trixie’s mind. I’d ask to see their managers!

But we weren’t in the right time. And I’d seen those Troggles run before. Even with them falling over themselves, there was no way Trixie could outrun them. Not with Swirly and the wagon. Not with my legs the way they were. Heck, just then, I was tangled up like a pony-pretzel!

Oh, Journal, I know it’s skipping ahead, but Gallopoli has the best pretzels Trixie has ever had! Gotta make sure I learn the recipe from these ponies.

No, I needed some other way out of this one.

Once I’d detangled myself and Swirly, we approached the road block. Okay, full disclosure: I approached the road block. Swirly passed out. I really panicked there, seeing him just collapse onto the road. ~~But, luckily, it was just the inconsolable stress of seeing the creatures who destroyed his life~~

That sounded better before I wrote it out. I’m sorry.

Anyway. The Troggles were still busting their collective guts over my impromptu slapstick adventure, so I had time to quickly haul Swirly back up into the wagon and set him in a hammock. Kid needed a break anyway.

So, all on my lonesome, the Great and Powerful Trixie strode forth, to match my wits and skill against the monstrous Troggle threat! The roadblock was a big, complicated affair, with all sorts of wooden walks and towers around the road to catch anypony trying to get past this point. The Troggles were mostly congregated about the gate they’d set up to catch us, but there were still a few milling around that Trixie could see.

Just like last time, the Troggles were huge compared to the Svelte and Athletic Trixie, like one of those pigs Applejack raises for truffle hunting, but like a hundred times bigger! And with tusks. And covered in this grungy armor. I know Tempest and those stupid Storm guys were evil jerks, but at least their armor was aesthetic!

Tempest got better. By the way. Not saying she’s still evil or anything. Especially not if she sees this and thinks I insulted her.

Tempest Shadow scares me, Journal. She just does.

I actually fought Tempest, once or twice. This was before the invasion, of course. I can confirm just how scary she is, so Trixie’s not off the mark here. We clashed over a legendary alchemist’s stone-form formula in the ruins of Neighpoline Crypts, raced each other to find the Lost Treasure of Montezooma, briefly fought together against Ahuizotl when he captured and body-swapped us using the Amulet of Twin Tigers, and we even crossed paths while looking for the Alicorn Amulet in Hoofington. That last one ended early when the town got overrun by Ursas. Weird day.

I wish I could have published those books, but the Equestrian Censorship Board blocked their publication on national security grounds. Never could figure that out, either. Did Celestia block my books because she had a reason to keep Equestrians blind to the Storm King’s threat? Or, knowing what I know now, did she foresee how things would pan out, and my books could have led to disaster?

Freaking Alicorns, I swear.

Sorry.

Right, so the lead Troggle wasn’t any bigger than the others. He just had a much nicer hat. Or helmet, I guess. It had its own tusks sticking out the side, and some feather plumes, and the whole thing was polkadotted.

Yeah. I’m just as confused as you are, Journal.

“What is your name?” the Captain asked me.

“Why do I need to tell you? This is a free country!”

Trixie only just realized how stupid that sounded when the other Troggles started pulling out their tusk-mounted axes and swords and hammers. Tactfully, I changed gears like a pro.

“What I meant to say is, my name’s…”

I didn’t freeze up, just so you know. Trixie Lulamoon does not freeze up! I just took a moment to sell my fake fear to those piggy-wiggies so they’d buy that we were merely travelers, and not actually the Great and Powerful Myself.

“… Twilight Sparkle.”

Well. This should be good. I wonder if I need to start keeping a counter for every time she insults you?

The Captain grunted, and turned to one of his associates. Said associate reached into a satchel, and pulled out a piece of paper. Trixie couldn’t see what was on it, from where I stood, but I felt a shudder run through me, all the same.

The paper was stuck to the Troggle’s tusk, as he held it out for his boss to see. The Captain looked at the paper, and then at me. Back to the paper. Back to me.

“Huh,” he said, scratching at his big dumb head, “You look like Trixie Lulamoon.”

“Oh?” I asked, innocently, “Who’s that?”

“You, I guess,” he grunted, then turned to his friends and said, “Get the irons. We got her…”

“Now hold the phone!” Trixie called out in her most magnificent manner, “You good gentleswines seem to have me, the Smart and Purple Twilight Sparkle, confused for somepony else. This… Twiksy, was it?”

One Troggle, the one with the picture, frowned at this, and said, “But… you not purple?”

“Well,” I said, “I guess I’m not all that smart. Now, who’s this Trixie pony? And why do you think I’m her?”

The Troggles shared a few looks with each other. I could see confusion already taking root.

The Captain grunted, and said, “Uh, she’s some powerful Wizard, or something. Caused trouble, you know? And, uh, you look exactly like her.”

His subordinate held out the poster, so Trixie could get a good look at it. Gotta say, despite these creatures not having photographs, it was an impressive likeness! Whoever drew the original captured my air of mystique perfectly!

“Well,” I said, tapping the poster, “There’s your problem!”

The Captain reached over me, and looked at the poster himself, though upside down.

“Uh, you sure? Where? What?”

Trixie almost laughed at the situation. At the sheer genius that she was displaying. But I held it in. Best not to give the act away.

“Why… for one thing, this mare, this Trixie, is far more beautiful than I, Twilight Sparkle, could ever hope to be! Just look at those mysterious eyes!”

“Um… okay?”

“That stylish mane!”

“Like yours?”

“And look at that body!”

“Trixie?”

“Yes?”

I paused. Then, I ran the last five seconds back through my head. The Captain and his Troggles frowned, and I could see one of them hefting up some iron hoofcuffs just for me.

But I couldn’t let it end like that! So, I said the first thing that came into my head next.

“… is what I would say, if I were this Trixie pony. Which I’m not!”

“You clearly are,” the Captain groaned, one hoof pressing against his temple.

“But…” I wracked my brain, looking for a way out. Any way out.

And then, it came to me.

“Look,” I said, “This Trixie is supposed to be a Great and Powerful Wizard, right?”

The Troggles all nodded as one.

I waved one forehoof dramatically, and asked, “And Grogar is the most powerful creature ever, right?”

Again, they nodded along, though slower than before.

“Well, then there you have it!” I declared, triumphant, “If this Trixie is such a powerful, skilled, and sexy Wizard, enough to where your Grogar is sending you after her, then why would she try walking past you swine as herself?”

They were silent. Many of their eyes widened, perhaps at the realization. But most joined their Captain in pressing a firm hoof to their temples and snout-bridges, like a headache was suddenly passing through their number.

“See,” I went on, “If I were Trixie, I would have disguised myself better than that! Or, she might teleport around your roadblock. Or she could just be invisible!”

“Ah crap,” one of the Troggles in the back whined, “Can she do that!?”

Trixie smirked. It felt right.

“Is there any doubt? Or does the word ‘Wizard’ mean something different around here?”

“She could be all around us!” another Troggle cried out, “I heard somepig say that Wizards can be in two places at once!”

A third joined in, “Maybe we should get Lady Rhapsody to help comb the forest? We could use a Siren around if Trixie moves the moon again…”

I came so, so close to biting my tongue off just then, you don’t even know.

Yet another fun fact I learned after talking to the hoomans from across the Mirror: The darker-themed version of you (seriously, why do you get two hoomans?) introduced me to a group of sisters. I guess you’ve faced the Sirens before? They seemed to remember you.

Yes, the Sirens. The Terrible Trio one-point-oh. Ancient musical monsters that nearly tore early Equestria apart with their envy and jealousy-inducing songs. Starswirl and the other Pillars came together in order to drive them off into a portal to a null-magic dimension. Which secured the safety of our young nation for almost a generation, and apparently helped your hooman-dimension counterpart get a marefriend. Congrats.

All three ‘Dazzlings’, by the way, were condescending narcissists who preferred to jerk me around instead of answer any of my questions about Trixie. The best I could wring out of them was that their mother might have been a Siren named Rhapsody, the very first of Grogar’s minions, forged in something called the Forge of Forte using something called the Songflame. It sounded very dramatic, despite them saying it in an extremely sarcastic manner.

They also said that Sonata once dated Discord, but I think they were pulling my hoof.

“Nah, you idiots!” a fourth shouted, “I talked ta Muddy yesterday. And he says there isn’t such a thing as a moon! It’s all hot gases and pony conspiracies!”

And just like that, every Troggle there was screaming their head off about this and that. It was wonderful to watch. Now, I thought, I just needed enough of them to drift away from the road, and I could make a break for it.

“SHUT UP!” the voice of their Captain ripped through the air like one of my famous fireworks. He was absolutely livid. Like, Rainbow Dash levels of mad whenever—

Huh. Rainbow Dash is always mad whenever I see her. Weird.

Anyway, he was boiling mad, so much so that he started kneading his head with both hooves. Remarkable how something so fat could stand on two legs.

“Eugh,” he sighed, “I hate thinking… I wish I was back home, eating mud…”

All the Troggles looked down, when they heard that, like they’d all been reminded about a dead pet. But I didn’t have time to wonder about it, since the Captain turned, and gave another order.

“Ask the Prince to bring the Truth Bell.”

“The… Truth Bell?” I asked. The tone the Captain had taken was low, and quiet, and cold. I’ve been stopped for traffic violations enough to know that when the creature giving you a ticket sounds scared, there’s something bad going down.

I didn’t wait long to find out, either. From somewhere amid the Troggle tents and campsite just behind the wooden walls and barricades, something was approaching. And as it did, these pigs started parting for it.

From where Trixie was, it looked like a giant silver bell, held up in a thin aura of whitish magic. I don’t know what I was expecting, but Trixie couldn’t have been prepared for it.

Carrying the bell in his magic aura was a tiny, adorable, grey-furred little ram with a tuft of black mane and a pair of tiny horns on his head. He couldn’t have been older than the Cutie Mark Crusaders, if that! And yet, I noticed he was wearing a bright red collar around his thin neck that didn’t look at all comfortable. More like a leash than a collar, really.

Okay. I also noticed something else about him. His eyes practically bored into Trixie’s soul! I’ll admit, I didn’t know too many sheep, back when I came from, but I can’t imagine yellow eyes with those beady red irises are a common thing with them. And these ones felt familiar.

Stupidly familiar.

“The Prince?” I asked again, and got no answer. The Prince approached us with a cheeky smile on his face. I reflexively started checking the ground for whoopee cushions.

Should have known then. Really obvious in hindsight.

“Captain Trotter?” he asked. Seriously, no colt or whatever a young ram is called should ever sound like he did. Smug, oily, and the only one in on a bad joke, all at once.

“Need a truth check for this one,” the Captain, Trotter I guess, told the Prince, “She’s suspicious, and I’m tired of thinking today.”

Prince rolled his eyes at that, and sighed. “Oh Captain. I’ll apologize on my father’s behalf for being kind enough to give you a brain, and nasty enough to give you that brain. But, suspicious?”

“Yeah!” one of the other Troggles called out, “If she were a wizard, she’d look less like a wizard! That’s just common sense!”

The Prince stared at the one who spoke with a bushy white eyebrow raised. But he didn’t seem to dwell on that for long. The ram-colt turned back, and pointed a hoof at me.

“But… that’s just her. That’s literally the one from the poster. How have you idiots not arrested her yet?”

“Well, I thought so too,” the Captain shrugged, “But now I’m not so sure. She made a lot of good points.”

“Good points!?” the Prince snorted, and shook his head, “The only point around here is on top of your empty heads!”

There was something about that kid that bugged me. Maybe it was just that I could tell I wasn’t fooling him – nopony likes a heckler or having to deal with a jerk who knows where you’ve stashed the mirrors – but there was something strangely familiar about the slack-jawed stare he gave Trotter just then. I’d seen it before, but I couldn’t quite place it yet.

Not yet. Soon though.

“Whatever,” the Prince sighed, and looked to the sky like it would help him out, “Let’s get this over with.”

He smiled at me. No, that little creep grinned at Trixie.

“Trixie!” he laughed, “Or Not-Trixie, I guess we’ll find that out soon enough. Have you ever seen a Truth Bell before?”

He reached up and tapped the bell as he said this. It let out a light – though off – pinging sort of sound that hung in the air. I’d never heard a bell sound like it needed tuning, but this was proving to be a day for firsts.

Trixie rolled her eyes, and I started saying that, of course I did! How could one ever doubt the ~~Great and Powerful Trixie?~~ You know I was going to say Twilight Sparkle.

But, I didn’t. As I went to tell the little creep that I, in fact, knew what his silly bell-thing was, I found out the hard way what was going on. I think the only reason I didn’t scream was because, compared to ripping the sun and moon out of the heavens, this wasn’t sooo bad.

Okay, it sucked. But Trixie was tough. It still sounded, and felt, like my ribs cracked when I tried to embellish my wealth of knowledge, however. My tongue twisted itself up too, but the rib thing was a bit more important.

“Didn’t like that, did you?” the Prince smirked with his stupid, smirking jerk face. He looked down at me from where the bell’s magic had left Trixie sprawled and aching in the dirt.

“What was that?” I asked, through pained breath.

“A little trick my dad figured out,” he said, before flicking the bell again, and letting it peel out its dissonant note.

So, I talked with Grogar. Wouldn’t recommend that to anypony looking for the insight. It’s like talking to a demon. An actual, literal demon. Sure, a demon that Pinkie Pie bound to her kitchen (seriously, his devil food cakes are outstanding), but a demon nonetheless. Ancient and wrathful.

And bored, apparently. I ask one question, and he talks my ears off for two hours! I think the guy’s just lonely and wants to talk to more ponies. Let them know how evil he used to be. It’s kinda creepy, considering all the stuff he caused, all the stuff I’m reading about here. Like, this is the creature who killed Starswirl’s family, but he’s just this fuzzy old idiot who manages his garden, loves his grandfoals, and cheats on his taxes like everypony else does.

Anyway. According to Grogar, Magic and Music are one and the same. He calls it “Divine Synesthesia”, and said that he actually got the idea in the first place from watching a pony Heartsong. You know? That thing we all do once in a while where a whole town suddenly breaks into a spontaneous song and dance number? Everycreature knows that’s because of magic and emotional overflow, but I guess it’s all connected to some Grand Unifying Musical Thing, as he put it.

So, Grogar’s empire was based on Disharmony. Like, the literal bastardization of harmony, song, melody, magic, and even harmony like with relationships. It all fueled his dark magic and allowed him to alter reality basically on a whim. He built bells that could erase whole towns from existence. He had chimes and cymbals that could change the way ponies thought.

He once sang a song that altered his own soul. I guess that’s how he’s still alive, millennia later. The echoes of his magic are still going on. And a bell to painfully disrupt lies? Seems about as plausible as a bell that can steal magic, right?

“All lies perish that are spoken in the presence of this Truth Bell. Captain?” the Prince asked while the ringing went on, “How do you feel about my father, really?”

I held my breath. Now, that was an interesting (if horrible) thing to ask. I had this kid’s number now, and I knew he knew the real answer to that question before he asked it.

Trotter flinched.

“Oh, come on, Trotter,” the Prince laughed, “Do you enjoy working for Grogar?”

The Captain flinched again. This time, his mouth began to split open, and it only took Trixie a moment to realize none of the other Troggles were looking at him.

I knew that look from personal experience. That was the look somepony gave you when they thought you were just hurting yourself for nothing but didn’t want to insult you by saying anything. ~~A lot of my personal assistants~~ Starlight usually gave me that not-look whenever I needed to practice a new trick for the act.

“Yes,” Trotter managed to squeeze out of himself, if just barely. One tusk actually fell out, and I think he started bleeding out his nose. His breathing was awful too. The poor guy looked like death, warmed over.

“Wonderful,” the Prince said without changing his tone from that smarmy, laughing chickenpoop grin he was sporting. But then, he reached out his hoof, and stopped the bell’s ringing.

Once the vibrations had ended, the Prince took a moment to square himself with the much, much larger ram.

“Now?” was all he said. He raised one eyebrow, and I swear his smile was just getting worse, somehow.

The big boar looked at him. Then, at the bell. He glanced at Trixie as well, but probably just to make sure I hadn’t run off with my broken rib cage.

Satisfied, if a little woozy, Trotter looked back to the Prince, and said, “I… hate you both more than words can convey.”

The Prince nodded, and grinned like he’d proven something. You know; besides the fact that he was a piece of work.

“Now,” he said, whacking the bell again with his hoof, and looked at me, “Are you, or are you not, Trixie Lulamoon, the Great and Powerful Wizard?”

Well. This was it, Journal. The Rock and the Hard Place. Making a complete mess of a Trixie sandwich.

Dangit. Now I’m hungry. Hang on a sec, Journal.

She actually left a little extra space here. Trixie is a very silly pony somedays.

~~Trixie~~

I don’t know how to say this. I know that Trixie is absolutely amazing at hiding her own insecurities, ~~of which there are vanishingly few, for she~~

I am a fraud. Sure, it’s a part of my act, but that’s the point. It’s all a lie. Trixie isn’t great and powerful, like I try to tell everypony. I’m a stage magician. A con mare, at my lowest point. I am not what other ponies think I am.

I am not a wizard.

And that was the key. As I stood there, scrubbing through my brain looking for an answer, I realized that, uncomfortable realization or not, that little ram had given me an out.

“Nope,” I said, completely honestly.

The Prince stared at Trixie a moment. Then, he looked back at the bell, still ringing. He didn’t wait for it to stop, either, instead hitting it again with his hoof.

“Come again?” he asked, barely ~~oddible~~ heard above the bell, “You’re saying that you’re not Trixie?”

“I am not the Great and Powerful Wizard, Trixie,” I admitted, “I’m a showmare.”

He blinked a few times, rapidly, and frowned. “But… But you are,” he insisted, “Your face is on wanted posters. Father had a crystal ball made just to find out who you were after the sun and moon..."

Captain Trotter coughed, a ragged sort of one, and shrugged.

“Well, the bell says otherwise. So…” He nodded to his troops, who started shuffling off to leave my wagon some space to move. “I guess you are free to go.”

I couldn’t resist shooting that Prince a little smirk, I’ll admit.

“I guess I am,” I said.

The Prince swung his head back and forth, from me and the wagon to the bell still floating in his magic. His bushy eyebrows quirked and scuttled and twisted up across his face as his tiny little mind started trying, desperately, to make sense of his failure to catch me.

He’d asked me if I was the Wizard, after all. Never try to argue technicalities with Trixie, Journal. I went undefeated in CSGU’s debate competitions.

Records show that Trixie only ever took part in one debate while attending Celestia’s School. When asked what her position on a topic was, she instead insisted that the “court” was out of order, that ice cream was an inalienable right, and then incited her fellow students (and two teachers) to riot.

Technically, the School’s Student Bill of Rights still allows for free ice cream parties once a semester, a concession Celestia made in order to save the hostages. Cake was added later, by royal decree.

I take it back. Celestia is the silly pony here.

However, as I tried to leave, the Prince’s face did something weird. I couldn’t be sure at first, but Trixie thinks he started smiling when I left.

I shrugged it off, of course. If he really suspected something was up, surely, he’d have ordered his Troggles to arrest me, right?

And, in any case, I sort of didn’t think that these Troggles were so bad. I mean, sure, they may have been the brutal enforcers of a tyrannical regime dedicated to death, mayhem, and disharmony, but they were pretty polite about it with me.

I just won’t bring it up with Swirly. I don’t think he’d understand.

Once we’d cleared the encampment, and pulled around the next bend in the road, Trixie felt a huge weight fall from her shoulders. That, right there? Was too close!

But, as it turned out, that wasn’t the only weight involved. Trixie has been hauling wagons since she was a little filly. I know my way around harnesses and weight-distributive mechanics. And there was suddenly something wrong with the weight of the wagon.

It was too heavy.

“Can Tr… Twilight help you?” I asked. I looked back over my shoulder, and spotted the problem right away.

The Prince was lounging on top of my wagon roof.

“No, not at the moment,” he hummed, and idly scratched at his tiny white beard.

“Then buzz off!” I stated in a calm, non-pushy tone, “My act is a Duo, these days, and my partner’s just sleeping off having the wagon land on him.”

The Prince chuckled, and my heart started sinking.

I knew that laugh. I couldn’t quite place it, but I knew it. Maybe I just didn’t want to admit to knowing whose laugh it was, but the connection didn’t connect just then.

“Nice performance, by the way,” the Prince grinned, revealing a set of pointed teeth, with a single, long yellow fang growing larger than the rest, “Got me on a technicality. And the lie before then…?”

He chef-kissed his hoof with a loud, sucking pop.

“Magnificent work! I bet you could talk your way into anything with that troublesome little brain of yours!”

“My brain is none of your concern!” I jabbed a hoof his way, and wished silently that he’d just take off already. “Also, I didn’t lie.”

“Of course, you did,” he shook his head and started (I know this sounds crazy) floating up and away from the wagon. As he drifted through the air, he sort of cork-screwed back towards Trixie, and said, “What a wonderful use of Creative Truths! A wizard shouldn’t look like a wizard? Genius!”

Trixie was getting irritated. “So, you heard that part?”

“Of course, I did,” he said, blowing a raspberry as he landed in front of me, “I see and hear most things. A lot more than creatures seem to realize.

“And I know that it was you that moved the sun and moon around,” he said, winking at me in a way that told Trixie that this Prince hadn't ever seen somepony wink before, “Inspired! I should really look into how you did that. Won’t be too long before my father catches you, and I need some fun in the meantime.”

“If…” I said, that nagging feeling of knowing the Prince tugging at Trixie’s brain, “If you knew I was lying, then why play along?”

“Because you reveal yourself best in how you play,” he said, laughing, “And it’d be far more fun to watch you run around causing all sorts of mischief and Chaos than stop you!”

Chaos. That was it.

“DISCORD!?” Trixie screamed, involuntarily.

“Ideally,” was all he said to my outburst, “Though Chaos has such a nice ring to it…”

I wasn’t thinking clearly, in the moment. I unhitched myself instantly, and was at his throat, both hooves wrapped around his skinny shoulders.

“Discord! What are you doing here!?”

He looked back at me, probably confused more than anything else. “What? Who?”

“You! You stupid Draconequus!” Trixie cried in frustration, “How did you find me!?”

“Uh,” he managed to say before I interrupted him again.

It’s not Trixie’s fault she’s so assertive.

“Whatever! Did Starlight ask you to find me? GET ME BACK TO THE FUTURE!”

In Trixie’s defense, I then added, “And get the kid to his family. But then, GET ME HOME!!!”

“Draconequus?” Discord asked, eyes flailing to either side like he didn’t know what was going on (which, I guess he didn’t), “Future? Starlight? What!?”

“Stop playing games!” I cried again, “Just, like, snap your fingers and get us out of here! I’m tired of almost dying all the time and causing parrot-oxes!”

“Paradoxes,” Discord ~~corrected~~

“Whatever!”

Trixie felt a pull, just then. Like an invisible claw gripped me around the middle, and yanked me off of that arrogant little jerk. I floated in the air, helpless, but belligerent!

“Put me down!” I shouted, but it didn’t look like Discord was paying me any attention. Instead, he was idly looking at one of his hooves. After a few more minutes of fruitless struggling, I gave up and just glared at him.

Discord muttered something to himself. All I could make out was the word ‘finger’, however.

And then, something awful happened. Discord started concentrating on his hoof, and that weirdly white magic of his began to glow around it. A rumbling sound built around us, and for a second, Trixie thought he was about to explode!

Instead, his hoof popped. And sitting there, on the end of his foreleg, was now a much, much more familiar set of talons.

Discord chuckled to himself, and reached up with his talon.

“Oh yes!” he laughed, “This will make things so much more exciting!”

He snapped his talons, and a bunch of paddleballs flashed into existence. Each one started playing on their own, bouncing about with strange and not-normal noises. One sounded like an armpit fart, and another like a kazoo!

It was then, dear Journal, that Trixie realized something.

“I did it again, didn’t I?” I asked nopony but myself, “A pair-of-fox!”

“Paradox,” said Discord, drifting back up to me, “And, yes. Yes, you did.”

I covered my eyes with my hooves, and tried to breathe. This was, I thought at the time, really bad.

“Trixie doesn’t suppose you could forget about all the time-travel stuff?” she asked, hopefully.

Discord smiled at that. Like a snake. But then, he surprised me as well. I dropped back to the ground without a sound, and landed safely due to my cat-like reflexes.

I looked back up at Discord as he drifted up and away.

“We will be watching your career with great interest,” he laughed, “Great interest indeed!”

Luster Dawn had not felt this excited, or happy, in a long while. As she raced down the halls and corridors of the Canterlot Palace, it took every ounce of her willpower not to stop to jump for joy or shout out the news to any who might hear it.

They’d done it. They’d cracked the code.

Well, they’d managed to answer the first mystery, at least. She, her school-friend Abacus Cinch, as well as Sunset Shimmer and two Mirror Universe versions of her teacher, had been assigned to the Trixie Case only a few days before, and they’d already made a breakthrough!

Trixie’s lungs were damaged, yes. But they’d also been suffused with a particular sort of magic over a long, long period of time.

The guards pointed her to the royal apartments, where the Princess was apparently still reading the latest report from AK Yearling.

“Princess Twilight!” she called out as she slammed open the large purple door to her teacher’s private rooms, “You’ll never guess what we discovered! Someone has been using Chaos magic to…”

Luster paused as she took in the sight of the Princess. Twilight's face was twisted into a terrifying scowl, and her whole body contorted in impossible ways. As if she were in excruciating pain!

Then, Princess Twilight straightened out, reared her entire neck and head back, and let loose the most chilling, earth-shattering cry of fury, pain, and confusion Luster had ever heard before.

DISCORD!!!!!

“Ah,” Luster sighed the sigh of an academic beaten to the punch, “You already figured it out…”

Author's Note

He looks so innocent, right?

Gusty the Great

In all of the many wild eternities that lay within the realm of Chaos, there is just one house. A house that doesn’t walk about, or sing carols, or any of that fun stuff. Anymore, at least. Discord had to make some accommodations for his family, after all. Fluttershy was a light sleeper.

But within that mad house was a little colt. A little pegasus colt – seemingly – with a bright pink coat, and a minty white mane that flowed like cloud vapor. Oh, and a bushy pair of suspiciously familiar white eyebrows over gigantic, pupiless eyes the same blue as his mother’s.

Ignore the blue, crystalline horn on his head. Frenzy wasn’t an alicorn. No, much like his siblings, he was merely a Ponequus, a creature of both Pony and Draconequii origin.

Also ignore the fact that Ponequus just meant ‘Pony-Horse’. This was the Realm of Chaos, after all. Discord and Fluttershy’s children could be whatever they felt like being. And at that very moment, little Frenzy felt like playing with his wooden toy blocks.

And by ‘playing’, he was actually ‘feeding them into a woodchipper’. As long as the chunks came out square, they were still blocks, naturally.

More blocks, more toys. More toys, more fun. Logical, yes?

Just don’t let Discord hear that.

But, on this specific morning, Frenzy found he couldn’t concentrate on his little game. Somecreature was knocking at the front door, which was somehow louder than the whirring machine before him.

“Fine!” he groaned, tossing the mountain of woodchips back into their box, “I’ll get it…”

He sullenly trotted to the front door, and pulled it apart with a flicker of Chaos. The door peeled aside like a ripe banana.

“Alright, what do you… want…?”

Frenzy was looking at a set of golden horseshoes. He turned his head up, and saw a golden petryal.

Then, once his eyes spent a good long hike up the tower of purple majesty that was an alicorn’s neck, he saw an especially unamused Princess Twilight Sparkle looking down on him.

Frenzy slammed the door shut in the visitor’s face, and held it up with his back to the purple sovereign that was, right now, standing on his front porch.

Frenzy, breathing hard, knew he had seconds. So, he whipped out a small hoof-mirror from the air, and a heavy jar. From the jar, he took a huge helping of some goopy, greasy substance, and swiped it through his mane, slicking it back like his Dad once showed him. One quick conjuring later, and Frenzy also had a capsule of minty breath spray in hoof. He uncorked the bottle, and downed its contents in a second.

Finally ready, the little colt threw on a black bowtie, and slowly opened the door again.

“Hey,” he said, in as low a register as a prepubescent foal could muster, “How you doin?”

Princess Twilight had a perfect face for politics. Despite her own body’s insistence, she emphatically did not roll her eyes at the strange little creature before her, nor his foalish crush.

Instead, in a slightly strained tone of voice, she asked, “Is your father here?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Frenzy said, polishing one hoof against his chest, “Oh! But Miss Silver Spoon is having us put on a play for the Two Sisters’ Festival. I could swing you a ticket, if you’d want to go with me?”

“How about your mom?” Twilight pressed on. “I really need to talk to her, if you don’t mind.”

Undeterred, Frenzy shrugged. “I think she’s doing something in the back. Did you know I’m gonna play Sombra in the play? It’s the main character, you know?”

Twilight drew in a single, strained breath.

“That’s great, Frenzy,” she said, “Then can I talk to Anarchy? Where is she?”

Frenzy refrained from blowing a raspberry in her older sister’s general direction. Which would have been difficult to do, being in different dimensions entirely.

“She teaches Zap Apple his lessons on Wednesdays,” he said, rolling his eyes. Then, he spun about in the air, and landed on his head.

“Oh! D’ya wanna see me do a headstand! I’m really good at it!”

“Hey! Jerk!” a voice suddenly rang out, “It was my turn to talk to the Princess!!!”

A blue portal, much like the ones Twilight had seen Discord summon many times before, popped into existence right above Frenzy, allowing a second strange creature to appear. And to dogpile him with great vengeance and furious anger.

“C’mon, May!” Frenzy protested, “Not in front of Twilight!!!”

May, or Mayhem, was the same age as her brother, but appeared much taller, thinner, and colored similarly to their father. Her bushy black-and-pink mane got tangled with Frenzy's ethereal, and her crooked horn came very close to jabbing the colt in the eye as they thrashed. Her bright blue insectoid-wings buzzed madly to keep her slightly aloft, and in control of the scuffle..

Discord and Fluttershy’s kids were certainly unique.

May glared her yellow-and-crimson eyes straight down at Frenzy, and snarled, “It was my turn!”

“Was not!” Frenzy got back on top. “You weren’t here!”

“I was helping Mom!”

Twilight leaned down, just a little, and tried to insert herself in the all-too-familiar familial squabble. “Oh! So, you know where Fluttershy is? I really need to ask her something…”

“Was not!”

“Was so!”

“Ah, we’re doing this then…”

The two foals wrapped each other up in their hooves, legs, and wings, sending up a small cloud of dust as they grappled and fought.

“Was not!”

“Was so!”

“Nu-huh!”

“Ya-huh!”

And on, and on it seemed to go. Twilight, having run a whole nation for decades now, had little issue keeping her nerves in check around squabbling children, but time was very much an issue she couldn’t ignore.

Yet, just as she was about to cough, or raise a note of protest, somepony else did it for her.

“Ex-cuse me!?”

Frenzy and May paused, literally. Even the smoke cloud just stopped where it was, dangling above the ‘Welcome’ mat with the two foals still locked in mortal combat. Or rather, frozen mortal combat.

Their eyes locked with one another’s and shared a look. Twilight was quite familiar with that look. She’d gotten that look herself on one or more occasions, the most egregious of which involved a certain stuffed doll, a certain obsession-elevation spell, and her old mentor’s disapproval.

“Mom! It was May!” Frenzy got off first, already falling into a low, cowering stance.

From out of the kitchen… or, what looked like a kitchen, but was most likely a sub-dimension filled with things that approximated a kitchen… walked a butter-yellow pegasus mare with a long, luxurious pink mane tied up in a messy bun. Fluttershy’s steely gaze even caused Twilight to flinch involuntarily as it settled onto the two foals in the room.

May, balking, gave her brother a little shove, and said, “No! Frenzy took my turn! He…!”

“I heard what he did,” Fluttershy said in an icy, if still calm and loving tone, “But that’s no excuse! You two are fighting in front of one of my very best friends! How do you think that reflects on all of us?”

Frenzy’s eyes went downcast, and he scuffed his hoof against the shag carpet. “Not good,” he sighed.

“We…” May started, her mane crackling. But one look from her mother, and she also lowered her head in shame. “We’re sorry, Mama.”

Fluttershy held her gaze for another moment. It didn’t vanish, not completely. It simply softened, somewhat.

“Now,” she continued, “Apologize to Twilight, and then go to your rooms. I know you both have homework from Miss Silver Spoon’s class…”

Both foals let out a sullen, “Aw…”

“No ‘buts’!” Fluttershy said with authority in her voice.

Frenzy and May turned back to the Princess as one.

“We’re sorry, Princess Twilight,” they said in unison, “We didn’t mean to behave badly.”

With their apology over and done with, Frenzy and May began the long, slow trudge up the nearby stairs… which Twilight noted didn’t appear to lead anywhere, but she’d been in Discord’s place enough to know how things ‘worked’ around here.

As soon as the upstairs door – which Twilight wasn’t sure truly existed – slammed shut, Fluttershy practically collapsed into herself with a heartbreaking sigh.

“Oh, dear,” she said to herself, only distress in her voice now, “I hate doing that. They’re really sweethearts, Twilight. They just get carried away sometimes.”

Twilight nodded along, suddenly mindful of how second-nature being polite and politic was for her these days. She knew now wasn’t the time to talk about such things.

“I can see that,” she said, reaching out a comforting wing to her dear friend, “Fluttershy? I…”

“Discord isn’t here.” Fluttershy cut off Twilight instantly. “And I don’t know where he is right now.”

Twilight frowned, and pursed her lips. “Fluttershy, I need to speak with him,” she said, maintaining an air of magisterial authority, “It’s important.”

Fluttershy looked away, whispering, “I’m sorry, but I don’t…”

The towering alicorn lurched forward, her head craning down from up on high to meet Fluttershy at eye-level.

“Please, Fluttershy!” her voice cracked and her eyes glistened. “He knows something! Something about Trixie’s condition. Her lungs were saturated with Chaos Magic, and we both know who could, or would, do something like that.”

Fluttershy’s eyes widened, slightly, a shiver of a nameless fear crawling up her spine.

“Oh, dear…” she said quietly, her eyes widening in shock, “He…?”

She paused, and bit her lip. Then, the pegasus closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

When she opened them again, Twilight could see a core of resolute steel, beneath the pools of gentleness she usually found in her dear friend.

“I know Discord has made some bad decisions in the past…”

“He has almost literally stabbed me in the back before, Fluttershy. And actually literally betrayed us on more than one occasion.”

“… But he’s changed,” Fluttershy said, pressing on through the interruption, “Whatever you think he may have done. Well, I’m sure it’s not something bad or hurtful.

“Can you trust me?” she added, a little frown of her own joining, “Trust me that I trust him? After all this time, I know in my heart that whatever game he’s playing, it’s with the best of intentions. Please? For me?”

Princess Twilight winced under the open, yet resilient blue eyes which watched her. Trusting Fluttershy was never a problem, so long as Discord wasn’t a part of the equation. Despite him doing…well, ‘better’ didn’t seem like a great descriptor of the Spirit of Chaos’ behavior, except in comparison to the one or two times he’d outright betrayed Twilight and her friends.

But she’d forgiven him for all that years ago.

Hadn’t she?

“When you see him again,” Twilight sighed, “Please tell him I want to talk?”

“I will, of course,” Fluttershy said with a soft smile, which only grew as Twilight reached another few inches out, and nuzzled her dear friend.

“Alright,” Twilight managed a haggard smile herself, genuine joy being quite hard to come by in the current crisis, and said, “Take care of yourself, and give Ann my love.”

“And Cozy?” Fluttershy asked… politely, not expecting an answer.

Twilight rolled her eyes, and almost let out a chuckle as she stepped away from the strangely normal house. With a flash of her horn, a perfectly-rectangular portal formed before her, and the Princess stepped through, bringing her back to Equestria.

Which left Fluttershy, standing alone on her porch, gazing at the swiftly vanishing portal her dear, dear friend had just hopped through…

Well... almost alone.

“I don’t like lying to my friends,” she said with a weary sigh. “Even for you.”

A voice like smoked maple syrup sounded behind her, from one of the hidden places in the house. “Don’t think of it as lying, my dear,” Discord said as he materialized back on his favorite sofa, “You’re just delaying the truth a bit.”

“Delaying?” she asked, turning back around, “Until when?”

The Lord of Chaos lounged in his seat, though not in the enjoyable ways he normally would, Fluttershy noticed. When he was comfy, or feeling warm and fuzzy, he’d coil up like a spool of rope… sometimes with her in the coils. When he was plotting something – happily, less world-overturning these days and more Hearth’s Warming surprising – he would lean back and click his talons and claws together.

Now, he seemed a bit brittle, or possibly condensed. Like there was some weight pressing down on him. He almost looked like he was looming, especially in the way he arched himself.

“Until the third act, I suppose,” he noted, though without the usual humor his ‘fourth-wall’ awareness implied, “Or until Twilight calms down. I’d like to make it to Frenzy’s play, after all…”

Fluttershy nodded along in silence. Noticeably loud silence, as her husband also noted.

“You want to ask me, don’t you?”

His tone was quiet, like the rest of the house.

“I trust you,” Fluttershy answered, quieter still. Then, as she closed the door gently behind her, she added, sadly, “But you’ve broken my heart before…”

Discord didn’t say anything in response. He just sank a little further into the couch cushion, and sighed. Seeing this, Fluttershy silently walked past him, and back towards the kitchen-like dimension, where she knew she’d be making Zee and May some fresh cookies for later.

And in the following silence, the Spirit of Chaos himself turned his ancient eyes downward, to gaze at his talons. He gave a little snap of his fingers, hardly audible amidst the cacophony of Chaos all around him.

A bound folder appeared in his hands. A sheaf of papers, all freshly printed. They’d been in mid-flight between Daring’s office and Twilight’s apartment.

He cracked open the report, and peered back into the mists of time.

I’m sorry to say that we lost some pages. Trixie, as you well know, is a notoriously messy eater. It seems that some cheese and a sort of paste, made from rocks of all things – a Pie family recipe no doubt – somehow managed to get into the journal, which turned moldy, destroying the entries. I’ve reconstructed what I could, but there are some gaps I’ll have to summarize or skip over entirely. Sorry about the inconvenience.

Trixie seemed to worry over Discord’s appearance for a while, but kept quiet about what happened to Starswirl. She was worried about timeline contamination (ha, I say ha!) as well as upsetting the little guy. Troggles did destroy his home, after all, and Trixie was feeling a bit bad about not disliking them all that much when she got to talking to them. For the record, Trixie’s track record with authorities is so spotty, I’m not surprised she’d get along with Troggles. They don’t seem to want to ticket her or check license and registration.

In the next couple of days, Trixie was focused on teaching Swirly some actual magic. It was still mostly boulder-training and sleight-of-hoof, but from what I can make out, she actually did cover some of her illusory spells! I hate this, since getting a look at Trixie’s hoofnotes on magic is already difficult enough as it is. A firsthoof account of her method would have been as good as gold.

We pick back up a few miles outside of Gallopoli, in the village of Springfall, where Trixie is putting on a show.

“I can’t do this, Master Trixie.”

After all the work I’d put into that stage, that was the last thing Trixie wanted to hear from her apprentice. There were almost two dozen ponies out there, waiting for the show, and Swirly was just sitting backstage, moping!

“Listen, Swirly,” I said as gently as I could, “We don’t perform, we don’t eat. That’s facts. And right now, you’re the only one who can do any magic at all!”

“I know, I know,” Swirly groaned. He shuffled under the weight of his little red cloak and hat, clear signs of jitteriness and nerves. Trixie had been there. I’d never really left, actually. Part of the thrill of performing was getting to tell those stomach butterflies to shut up and sit down. He just needed a little confidence boost.

I held out my still-wrapped hoof.

“Come on, remember the magic words?”

He snorted. “They’re not real magic.”

“Of course they are!” I snorted back, “Do you doubt my magical tutelage?”

He was oddly quiet, for a second there, before he said, “No.”

So, we did the chant again, like we’d done the night before.

“We’re great!” I said.

“We’re powerful!” he replied, a liiiitle smile just beginning to come back to him.

Then, together: “We got the magic that makes you mar-a-vel!”

Yes, I know Journal. I was just so happy we got it to rhyme! And once we did it again, Swirly’s face lit up with a real smile. It’s been hard to get him to do that, lately. Seeing that colt happy, and energetic—

Wish I didn’t have to ruin it. Well. Wish he didn’t make me ruin it.

Newly invigorated, Swirly took to the stage, and began his performance. Trixie knew, right from the start, that kid had stage presence. Ever since I met him, honestly. And now, seeing him up on my stage, it was obvious for everypony else.

He got out there, and almost immediately tripped over his cape. Anypony else might have lost their nerve right then, but not Swirly. He did this adorable little shuffle, trying to recover, and I could feel the crowd around me practically ‘oohing’ and ‘awwing’ instantly. Everypony loves a goofball, and Swirly was too cute to be anything but.

When Swirly got back on his hooves, I knew he’d be alright. There’s something intoxicating about an audience, and Trixie could see it in the way Swirly moved towards his first trick, a simple card trick, that he was eating that attention up.

Which meant, I had to get to work.

The nice thing about ponies in this day and age was that more of them wore clothes than not. Sure, it might not be more than a cape, or a hat, or some cufflinks. There were a couple of jerkins and tabards as well, but you get Trixie’s point. More clothes.

More clothes? More pockets. And more pockets, more coin purses.

Every performer, when starting out, learns about how things are done. It is the mark of a great performer that they can leave such practices behind, but at the moment we were desperate. Swirly didn’t notice me slipping him Trixie’s own food the last two nights, and it was starting to ~~eat away~~ bug me. The not eating part, obviously.

Yeah, turns out a grassy plain wasn’t the best place to hunt for food. And the grass wasn’t, like, edible at all! Swirly didn’t have a clue about what I was talking about, so chalk that up to another stupid past-ism, I guess.

Turns out, the history of edible grass is a lot more complex than I gave it credit for. If you weren’t aware, edible grass is a relatively recent innovation. Sure, a few millennia ago, our cavepony ancestors could eat wild grasses for sustenance, but something about our evolution into modern, Equus Sapiens caused us to lose the ability to digest them. According to CSGU’s Head of Botamancy and Enchantment (that’s a weird combination) Wallflower Blush, it’s something to do with wild grass not having the right sort of nutrients to sustain a lifeform with higher brain-functions and as much magic as ponies possess. Her hooman-self, currently teaching botany at CSGU on loan from someplace called Midnight Sparkle’s School of Sorcery, confirmed this through her own research.

Hooman-Wallflower is an odd one, by the way. Do all hoomans wear so much clothing when they’re on this side of the portal? That sweater can’t be comfortable.

After the first Hearth’s Warming, I guess Starswirl got it into his head to revisit Trixie’s stories about edible grass. He convinced Mage Meadowbrook and Mistmane to help him with the project, but despite working on that for a decade, nothing ever came of it. Them getting sucked into a timeless void probably didn’t help much. Surprisingly, Princess Platinum of all ponies funded a commission to continue their work. She was almost destitute by the time the commission made a breakthrough and completed the project in the year 87, and by then she was ancient, dying less than a year later.

She left a note in her diary, you know, explaining why she threw all her bits away on such a project. Guess she must have felt guilty over how she’d treated earth ponies in the past, and wanted to give something back for all she’d done. Guilt’s an ugly thing.

Either way, that’s how one of the largest public health projects in Equestrian history got done. Nopony will ever go hungry again, so long as edible grass exists. The commission was so successful, actually, that wild grass has died out everywhere except for the Unexplored West and the Badlands. Trixie literally never knew a world in which she couldn’t grab a quick and nutritious – albeit bland – bite off the side of the road.

Now, you may be wondering why Trixie felt the need to do this, and it wasn’t what you think! Trixie totally trusted the kid to do well and sell a good show. And he did! Sure, he was a newbie, but his cuteness factor won over the crowd like that!

Trixie realizes she just clapped her hooves for emphasis.

What he wasn’t going to get, however, was money. Springfall was a nice little—

Okay, cards on the table, it was a hole. Dank, and poor. The fact we weren’t shivved and robbed as soon as we showed up was more because the locals had to hawk the communal shiv for food.

While Swirly performed, I went around the back of the crowd, and used some of my sleight of hoof mastery to get what I could. Nopony even noticed, as they were distracted by my brave apprentice flubbing a line, and accidentally letting off a magic-firecracker early.

Not that it helped. Gold was utterly unheard of in these parts. Silver was as rare as good dental hygiene. I managed a solid fifteen copper bits, spread out across the whole crowd, and one of those was wooden. More useful was the fact that some of the crowd were carrying groceries, and I was able to make off with a couple muffins and a banana.

Kinda surprised about the banana, but I’m not picky.

**section lost to mold**

“—have to give it all back!”

Trixie just rolled her eyes. The nerve of this kid!

“I can’t give it back,” I explained, “You already ate the muffins!”

Swirly got really quiet, all of a sudden, which was great since I was still busy mixing up my firework powder, and listening to somepony have an ethical meltdown wasn’t helping me concentrate.

Then, Trixie heard him say, “I’m an accessory…”

Look, Journal, I love the kid, really. But Swirly’s got some loose screws in his brain or something.

**section lost to mold**

From what little I could reconstruct, it looks like Trixie and Starswirl had a fight over her thieving antics. While most of the section is lost, it looks like Starswirl convinced her to not do it again, though not before she might have bitten his head off with this:

“Oh, what do you know, kid!? Up until a few weeks ago, you’d never had a hard day in your life! You ever go hungry on Hearth’s Warming? I have! You ever ask your mom where Dad is, and see her cry instead of answer you? I have! You pampered little… when you’ve had to do what I’ve done to survive, then you’ll understand that good things don’t happen to good ponies. You want to survive in this world? Take what you can! Lie, cheat, steal, whatever! But don’t you dare judge me! At least your folks didn’t--”

Trixie, notably, crossed all that out. I think she might have been embarrassed. Or regretful. Can’t rightly tell. But that's not all. Starswirl seemed to have written something else in the margins.

Something ominous.

Yes, Trixie. You were right. Lie, cheat, steal. Do whatever you must, in order to survive. I wish I understood that then. But I do now. Even as I write this message to one already dead, the ponies of this time are proving that they don't deserve to survive. They are not the Equestrians you came from. I have three foals to take care of, as well as the Pillars who need my guidance! I can't be dealing with all these idiots and their ridiculous tribalism!

I ask myself, sometimes, what would you have done?

Ah. A thought occurs. A dark thought. One worthy only of your most diabolical genius. I dare not even write it here, lest I remind myself of my own conscience, and back away from the precipice.

I will make you proud, Trixie. I will create that world you came from.

Happy Hearth's Warming, Trixie.

Like I said: ominous. I'll let you know if he lets slip any more hints as to what he was talking about, but you might want to check in on him sometime. Even that stallion needs a break from what he's going through.

Alright. Well, we finally got to Gallopoli a few days ago. The rest of our trip was pretty quiet, all things considering. Swirly kept up his practice, but he wasn’t as enthusiastic as before.

Yes, Journal, I know it was Trixie’s fault for yelling at him. But the kid’s gotta know how the world works. It isn’t nice. Good things don’t just happen. Especially not to me. Or him, by proxy.

I know he knows that. After Hynieghria, how could he not?

After I said those things about his parents.

I’ll apologize in the morning.

**section damaged by idle doodles and quill-stabs, probably Trixie thinking about stuff**

The dreams stopped right after Luna last talked to me. I stopped seeing Hyneighria on fire. I stopped showing up to class without my cutie mark. I even stopped hearing Mom’s voice.

But that night, the dreams came back. Or, the last one did.

I don’t know if I’m crazy, Journal. Every once in a while, Trixie gets these dreams. I’m just held by my mother, and she’s singing to me.

“What’s crazy about that?” I hear you say.

I don’t remember what Mom sounded like. Sunflower Spectacle was a singer, but she never got big enough for anypony to want to record her voice, and ~~by the time sh~~ growing up, I only heard her sing a few times. She didn’t have a lot to sing about after—

The lung-thing got to her. She couldn’t sing after a while. ~~Trix~~ I don’t like thinking about it. About her, and how it all ended.

Nopony deserves that. Dying alone. No applause for a show well-done. No curtain call. Just an end, with no ending.

When I dream of Mom, I can’t really see her face. Can’t remember it. How weird would it be if I said I sometimes dream of Starlight as her? With the same voice, even. What else do I have to go by?

But this time, it was different. I was back in our old kitchen, and it looked like a bright morning. I was small again, waiting for Mom to figure out what we were going to eat, since Dad wasn’t around to help with that again. And she was singing.

It wasn’t a voice I recognized, but it was familiar. She was singing a wordless version of the Wanderer, but slower. Sadder. She only sang sad songs, after a while.

Mom came over to the table, and set down a plate for me.

I’d seen this once before. And, for a second, I thought I was reliving that memory again. Kind of cruel, for the dreams to go away, only to come back with that memory.

But, instead of burnt toast – and an ungrateful little filly whining about there being no eggs, or peanut butter, or juice, or seconds – Mom set down a heavy plate of Prench toast, absolutely drizzling with syrup and whipped cream.

I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. It was beautiful.

And it was wrong.

I asked, “What is this?”

And Mom answered, laughing a laugh I hadn’t heard in years, “Breakfast, silly girl.”

“Where did you get it?” I asked.

Mom looked at the food, and then back to me. Her eyes were bright and shining.

“What do you mean, my love?”

I pointed at the food with my little hoof, and explained, “The food! Where did it come from? We didn’t have that kind of money.”

My mom’s smile was like seeing the sun rise, Journal. That was something I remembered. It made you feel warmer just by being around it. And this one, on this mare’s face, was no different.

It just didn’t reach her eyes.

“Ah,” she said, nodding along, “I… forgot to tell you. I got a new job… singing again. So, it’s alright. Everything’s alright.”

The food didn’t look quite as delicious as I thought it did anymore.

“But you’re still sick,” I said, watching the gold-colored mare hold back a wince, “You can’t sing.”

“The doctor said…”

“We couldn’t afford a doctor.”

“Your father…”

“Isn’t coming back.”

The mare’s face was becoming strained. She glanced nervously between me and the food, and then between me and her own hooves.

She licked her lips. “I… I don’t understand. I was just trying to make you happy.”

Her voice wasn’t Mom’s anymore. It sounded hollow, like a distant, broken wind chime .

“It’s cruel to lie to me like this,” I said. I pushed the toast away, even as it vanished into dream-stuff, “Mom couldn’t afford much, and I didn’t understand then. But I do now, and lying about what she did… and what I did to her, is heartless.

“Who are you?”

Spectacle didn’t look up. She couldn’t meet my eyes. That, more than anything, got me up on my hooves. There was a sick-feeling crawling up my stomach, creeping into my throat and head.

I was so angry, Journal. So mad at this dream. At what it was trying to do.

Another voice spoke behind me, cutting through the anger, stopping me from doing something to the dream.

“The Tantabus does not know what it is doing is wrong, Trixie.”

I spun around, and found none other than Princess Luna standing in my kitchen. As I turned to see her, the sun vanished from the windows, replaced by the still, cold beauty of night, which made the Princess seem just a little less out-of-place.

“The Ta— that thing you put in my head?” I asked, turning back to look at the thing impersonating my mother.

It was just a filly again. A filly made out of starlight and darkness. And it was sniffling.

Despite still being raw over what it had done, Trixie couldn’t help but also feel bad. Especially since it was just… miserable looking.

Still. There was a Princess to deal with.

“You finally showed up,” was the best I could come up with at the moment.

“Indeed. I apologize for my absence. Hopefully, the last few moons haven’t been too strenuous.”

I frowned, and looked at Luna as she walked past me to stand over her little experiment. “Uh, moons? It’s been like, two weeks.”

Luna’s hoofsteps stuttered.

“Oh?” she said, surprised, and stared at me, “But… Ah. I suppose Ponhenge isn’t as stable a connection as I was hoping for. I kept missing you due to the time difference…”

She shook her head.

“Regardless! You’ll be happy to know that your attempted takeover of Ponyville was successfully thwarted by the now Princess Twilight Sparkle. Of course, I was only conscious for the last hour or so of your apparently tyrannical rule. I barely made the fireworks show…”

Trixie must have blanched, but since I can’t see myself outside of a mirror, you’ll have to take her word on this, Journal.

“I’ve said sorry a lot over that…” I began to say.

But the Princess cut me off. “It matters not, Trixie. For you, you have long ago been absolved of wrongdoing. And… seeing everything end up alright in the end, I have had enough time to forgive you as well.”

Something was off about all this. You don’t need to be a great actor to spot a bad one after all, and Luna was badly trying to avoid something.

It only took me a moment to figure out what. All I had to do was follow where her eyes weren’t looking.

“Why aren’t you more concerned?” I asked.

Her face didn’t move. “I… beg your pardon?”

I swept my hoof down, across my body. Even while dreaming, every crack, cut, and bruise was still visible. Every inch of Trixie was still as ruined in dreams as it was in real life.

Luna’s eyes twitched, and she looked away. But, instead of denying something was wrong, she just breathed. Long, slow breaths.

She turned back to me, and said, “I didn’t wish to… make you feel more conscientious of your condition. I apologize, if you took that to be rude, or patronizing.”

“I do,” I said, folding my forelegs together, “But… it’s alright. I just expected you to ask about it.”

Luna shrugged. “I presume you had some difficulty discharging the excess mana I granted you? I wasn’t too concerned, as our connection through my construct allowed me to glean upon a sense of your wellbeing.”

For the first time, her eyes followed the shape of my body more closely.

“Though…” She was slower, more hesitant. “If your dream-form is accurately reflecting these injuries, there might be some concern. Can you still…?”

“Cast magic? Not yet,” I sighed, “But… well, no spoilers, but apparently Swirly found me a salve that held me together. I should cast spells again. Just… not yet.”

Is it just me, or do Alicorns like to stare a lot? Luna was watching me ~~like~~. No. Not like an audience. And not like a judge or a teacher or anything like that.

It’s like, she wasn’t judging me at all. I don’t like that kind of look.

“Hm… you are lucky,” she said after a moment, “Very lucky indeed. I suspect that the loss of your gifts would very much be the same as death. It gladdens me to know you are well, in that regard at least.”

I shrugged, but didn’t know what else to say. Luna’s smile was nice, though. She always had that calming presence, you know? Not like Mom’s, but nice all the same.

Regardless, I didn’t know what to say. And it wasn’t easy to come up with something while that Tantabus thingie was still sniffling and snuffling at Luna’s side. It was very distracting.

After another minute of just sitting around, and being awkward around each other, I stepped up to the Tantabus and started stroking its hair. Filly or not, crying or not, it pressed its head into my hoof like a sad puppy.

“Well,” I said, pulling the thing closer to me, “I’m still upset over what she did. Whatever that was.”

“I designed the Tantabus for dream-management,” Luna offered. “It was designed as a form of… therapy. I have long struggled with dark thoughts and emotions, and felt that if I had somepony to help me through such times, I would not have made such poor decisions in my past.

“Likely,” she said, shrugging, “It was trying to comfort you. By bringing up some past experiences and making them less…”

“Awful,” I finished for her. “I guess. All my dreams disappeared for a while, and then she goes ahead and changes this one. Has my… my mom make me Prench toast.”

Luna hummed to herself, and then said, “You don’t seem happy about that.”

I shrugged, but kept patting the Tantabus. For an ~~elbow~~ eldritch horror, it was a pretty cute filly.

“It was lying,” I said, “That wasn’t how it happened. She gave me toast and ketchup, and I complained. And then she cried...”

“But lying is a part of your performances,” said Luna, “Is it not?”

“That’s the show!” I countered, a little too angrily, “It isn’t real. It doesn’t hurt anypony if I can do a few flips, or change somepony’s mane color…”

“You did what?” she asked, incredulous (Still got it).

“Luna, I don’t know what my mom looked or sounded like. Not really. Even when Aeva almost… well, did the thing, I wasn’t focusing on her. I don’t remember, so how can your oneiric golem sound like her, except by making it up?”

I really hate to ask, but how many of your friends have almost destroyed reality? And how did you convince everypony in Ponyville to keep that little secret? I’m not going to blab, don’t worry, but it’s really incredible that you managed to keep it under wraps for two decades that one of Luna’s Tantabi came within inches of un-making all of reality.

And right here, I think I can see where that got started. I haven’t confirmed it with the Princess yet, but Trixie’s little speech to Luna might have had far-flung consequences she wasn’t aware of at the time. Getting called out on for making happy dreams had to suck. Probably the wrong time to get told something as depressing as “I deserve to be unhappy”.

On the bright side, Trixie actually used the word ‘oneiric’ correctly. Nice.

I flinched. I don’t mean to have outbursts, Journal. They just… happen. And happening at royalty is a great way to get banished to a dungeon in another country.

The Tantabus pressed her face into my coat, and whimpered.

But Luna just stared at me.

“Trixie?” she said, “The Tantabus cannot create things. It can only ~~approrp~~ appropriate from your own memories, taking what is already there in order to create something different. It cannot make new memories.”

There was a twinkle in Luna’s eye. If I could breathe in a dream, that look could have stopped me doing that.

“Perhaps…” She smiled. “… you remember more than you know. It...”

“She,” I insisted.

“… She was designed to parse the memories of those she was in contact with,” Luna continued without a pause, “With the memories you possess.”

I bit my lip, and tried not to think about that. It was just a little too much for Trixie just then.

“Well, just tell it not to lie anymore,” I said, “At least, not about real stuff. Important stuff.”

“Stuff that paints you in a bad light,” Luna unhelpfully clarified, “I know the feeling all too well.”

I just shrugged, and continued to hold onto the little monster. Okay, harsh, I know. But, yeah. Trixie didn’t feel like saying anything else. Enough had been said.

Well. Almost.

“So…” I said, slowly, “What’s going on, up-time with you?”

“Up-time?” Luna raised an eyebrow at me. “Oh, yes. I see. I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Trixie. Especially if we are to keep the number of paradoxes to a healthy minimum.”

She tapped her chin in thought.

“Though, it should not surprise you that Twilight Sparkle is, indeed, a Princess now, in my timeline.”

“Well good for her,” I said in a totally not-pouty way. Trixie does not pout, especially about Twilight.

Clearly, Luna thought otherwise. She didn’t say anything, but the way she peered down at me started to feel like an inquisition. Very good, as far as stares go, I’ll say.

“We were rivals,” I explained. She made a face when I said that, so I kept going. “What? You want me to love her? We used to fight, and then she… she got a bunch of advantages.”

“She’s an Alicorn,” Luna nodded, not getting it.

I shook my head. “No, I mean, she was born in Canterlot. Her folks are pretty loaded, as far as I ever heard. And she got to be Princess Celestia’s personal protégé right off the bat!

“She got every break,” I said, focusing on the little filly still hugging me, “And I just got broken.”

“Do you hold that against her?”

I pffft’d.

“That’d be pretty petty of me,” I admitted without admitting anything, “It didn’t help that I was a jerk to her, or that she and her friends were jerks to me…”

Luna nodded, but said nothing. It seemed like I’d have to carry the conversation then.

“So, Discord’s around now, right?”

A grimace swept over the Princess’s face, and I couldn’t help laughing at her obvious discomfort.

“Indeed,” she said with a sour look, “Apparently, my sister – without consulting me – freed the Lord of Chaos and allowed him to run free. I fear for dear Fluttershy’s safety…”

“So, Twilight’s got her crown, and Discord’s got his ball and chain…”

Oof, Journal. Now, that got a good grimace going! I thought Luna was about to lose her lunch in my dream.

Oh, jeez. What would that have done?

Anyway, Alicorn constitution must be made of sterner stuff, since she didn’t ruin my foalhood kitchen.

“When was the coronation?” I asked, noticing something that the Princess, currently trying to forget harder than she’d ever forgotten before, did not.

Hey, I knew things were gonna work out all right. Why worry?

“Only a few days past, actually,” she responded. Then, with a suspicious glare, she asked, “Why?”

I smiled.

“Oh, nothing… just remember that Discord gets better. Eventually.”

It was at that precise moment that the black vines, which had been crawling up the dusty window above the sink, burst through the wall and wrapped around Luna like a spider catching a fly.

“Don’t worry!” I called out to the rapidly retreating (and screaming) Princess as something snatched her away from the dream, “It all works out! Promise!”

Well, that was that. A rather troubling dream turned into another weird conversation with the Princess of Night. And the only thing I got out of it was the Tantabus.

Who was just watching me with those spooky white starlight eyes ~~of it’s~~ it has.

Who knew I’d be taking care of two kids?

“Alright,” I told her, “Bring back some toast and ketchup, and I’ll teach you how to make fireworks. Sound good?”

**following pages lost to mold**

Well. That was heavy. It might be hard to remember, considering how annoying and egotistical she is, but Trixie didn’t exactly have an easy time, did she? I can understand the sort of jealousy she must feel towards you, is all I’m saying.

I’m guessing those thorns were related to the time Discord tried to choke the Tree of Harmony to death? What a jerk. Trixie wasn’t in Ponyville when the Everfree Forest went nuts during the Princess’s absence. She was already doing a show in Neigh Orleans at the time, and only found out about the disaster later.

The lost pages appear to cover very little. Most of it is just doodles that I think are of the Tantabus? They’re not exactly legible. Or that good, for that matter. Trixie has many talents, but drawing isn’t one of them.

But yeah, Gallopoli. If you’d asked me what an older, somehow worse-looking Baltimare looked like, I’d probably describe it like this place. Row after row of old, red-brick buildings with a couple marble ones splashed in for fun. Everything smells, and absolutely everything is covered in a thick layer of grime from the odd smokestacks on the waterfront. Probably why it smells, to be fair. Clouds and water vapor are a great way to take rotten stink from one place, and dump it somewhere else.

Gallopoli’s also huge! Hyneighria could probably fit in one of the neighborhoods around here with room to grow! We got turned around three times, just trying to find Swirly’s family.

Oh. Right. That.

I mentioned before that Clean Slate and Page Turner technically still had family in Hoofburg. The way Swirly’s parents talked about his uncle, it sounded like he was dead or something. That turned out to be a slight miscalculation on the Great and Powerful Trixie’s part. He was merely treated as being dead. On account of being a huge jerk or something.

Trixie can relate to wanting certain parts of one’s family to get dead. Yes, I know that’s not grammatically correct, Journal. It’s still true.

So, apparently Swirly’s uncle was from Hoofburg, but then moved to Gallopoli, for some reason I was too tired to understand at the time. But Swirly brought it up, so I figured we ought to check.

Anyway, Swirly starts getting antsy as soon as we pass through the main gate. He was either nervous about meeting his jerk-Uncle, or the Troggles watching us enter the city.

Yeah, more of them. And not just Troggles. The main gate had a few of them, sure, but there was also a small platoon of dragons marching around the walls. These ones take after that dingus, Garble, more than Sparkle’s pet Spike. Trixie can tell a bully a mile away.

Plus they were, you know, bullying ponies they came across. I stayed clear, either way. So, Troggles, Dragons, and even some of the local pegasi were armored up as if they were working for Grogar. Didn’t see any more centaurs or satyrs, but I wouldn’t be surprised. Still a little worried about all the ponies on their side.

Not sure why Gallopoli has such an earth pony name if it’s mostly pegasi, bee-tee-dubs*. Maybe Starlight will know once I get back.

Trixie may be overselling the tribal makeup of the city at this time. Gallopoli was most likely founded by earth ponies, at least going by the Epic of Gallopmesh. Pegasi invaders conquered the original city inhabitants about a thousand years before Trixie showed up, but the city always had a mixed population.

Yes, I’m also confused-slash-worried as to why there’s this apparently huge city here, when Gallopoli is supposed to be a small farming town.

*I presume we can thank hooman Trixie for that “word”?

So, day one being in Gallopoli, we spent the whole day looking for this uncle, or whatever.

Has Trixie mentioned lately how much I hate time travel? Because this is the part where I think my Great and Powerful head almost exploded all over the road.

See, we found the house his uncle was supposed to be living at. Supposed to. He wasn’t there, though. The current owner, a rather rude donkey named Earl who I hate for entirely justified reasons, informed us that the previous owner had moved away.

Yup. He decided to follow his passions, instead of sticking it out in the city. Too many Troggles, or something. Said he’d gotten a bad Sense of the place.

So Swirly’s uncle finally put his Rocktorate to use, and went off to found a rock farm.

Swirly’s uncle, Holder. Holder Cobblestone.

Why do I keep running into Pinkie’s family everywhere I go!?

Peachy Peaches will eventually (I think we both know not everypony in Hyneighria died, obviously) have a child named Crumble Pie. Crumble will have something like twelve direct descendants, one of which is recorded as being Marshmallow Pie. Marsh married a mare named Facet, who grew up on an old rock farm a few hours train ride away from Ponyville.

Skip forty generations or so, and their descendant, being the last living member of Holder’s line, inherits a rock farm, and passes it onto his son, Feldspar. Father of Igneous Rock Pie.

Sorry. Just needed to process the fact that Pinkie Pie is a first cousin – one-hundred-times removed – from Starswirl. I’m okay now. I am not okay. Nothing will ever be okay again.

The Pie farm is all the way on the other side of future Equestria. Weeks away, at least! I know I said I’d teach Swirly magic, but keeping him safe and alive trumps that. Which means Trixie is back to planning mode.

We need food and other supplies. Which means at least a dozen shows, if I want enough to get us there. There’s a whole seaboard of cities around us, so there’s no shortage of venues. Apparently, New Maresterdam is north of us, across a bunch of swamplands, and everypony here says it’s got the right kind of scene. Could make a shiny bit playing there.

But, without Uncle Holder, Swirly’s stuck with me for now.

Lucky him.

After running into that dead-end, we found an inn to stay at. Normally, I prefer my wagon, but when you’re in a city as large as this place, you can’t afford having to hop through the gates every day. If they lock up, or charge extra fees, you could see a whole day’s profit vanish! Plus, walking from the outside, passed the gates, and going through all the local traffic just to set up your stage? That’d take hours!

**section lost to mold**

Trixie went off for a couple pages here about venue selection, I think. There’s a bunch of odd words here and there I can make out that might just be her complaining about taxes. It’s like a dang manifesto in here.

We also lost a bit that seemed to cover Swirly doing another show, but since the text picks up again right after he finished, I don’t think we lost much.

“—apologize.”

Swirly blinked at me a few times, clearly unused to Trixie having flaws. This is common among other ponies as well, ~~if I am being honest.~~

“Apologize?” he repeated, dumbly.

“Yes, I apologize,” I also repeated, though not loud enough for anypony passing by to hear us, what few there were at this hour, “Trixie should have trusted in her apprentice to make enough money for us to survive. You did a great job tonight, kid.”

Swirly grinned, cheekily, and said, “I did, didn’t I?”

Yes, it was cute, Journal. But that doesn’t mean I have to encourage him all the time.

Now, there was one more thing I was going to apologize for, but as you may have guessed, I didn’t get around to it. Because, just as Trixie was working herself up to it, we turned down the next corner, the last before our accommodations, and found a dead-end.

A dead end. Me, Trixie. I never get lost, Journal. It’s a physical impossibility! I might get turned around, here or there, but lost? Never in a city. Not once!

Technically true. However, I do have my hooves on a report that Trixie was once lost for sixteen hours on the Pegasus Interchange, a rather notorious road network in Los Wrangeles. She apparently kept getting on and off the interchange, not being sure where it ended. According to the officer on scene, she broke down and began performing one of her shows after hour fourteen, and it took thirty-seven police wagons to eventually catch her. Starlight paid bail, naturally.

Oh, but my favorite part? She was quoted by a witness as beginning her performance by yelling out:

“Screw it! We’ll do it live! WE’LL DO IT LIVE!!!”

“Did we get turned around?” Swirly asked me, spinning about to see what had happened. “I don’t understand?”

Trixie unhitched herself from the wagon, and looked about. The Inn we were staying at was just on the south side of the city center, and only a few short blocks from the main street. A five minute trot, at best. From what I’d seen so far, we were mostly surrounded by inns, taverns, and a few gaming dens. Not the nicest part of town, but the liveliest, so it was a great place to disappear into.

But the street was deserted. The sun hadn’t been gone for more than a half hour, but the streets were already empty. The buildings were the same as when we’d left, with the same ugly whitewash as everywhere else, but there was just this freaking wall cutting across our path.

I smelled something fishy, and it wasn’t the fish market.

Trixie walked to the wall and gave it a few experimental prods. I couldn’t do a normal magic-check with my horn still out of commission. Trust me, I tried, and all that came out was a spark and a stabbing pain down my left side. So, I had to fall back on some older techniques. First, I gave the wall a solid rear-kick, like those Apple bumpkins do.

Hey, I can learn new tricks from even the worst ponies.

Did you know about this other incident report? Ponyville Police got called in to a disturbance at Sweet Apple Acres right around the first Cozy Incident. Apparently, Trixie liked to sleep under the apple trees in the Northwest field back then (no, I can’t find out why), and Big Macintosh was sleep-bucking due to stress.

His aim was off, but she spent a few days trying to convince ponies Big Mac had tried to “assassinate” her. While they settled the issue privately, out of court, Rainbow Dash likes to regale ponies with the story after a few ciders, and once let it slip that Trixie has the sole right to keep a hammock on Apple family property.

The wall was solid enough. Next, I checked its harmonics. Trixie hummed a few notes – nothing special, just the first couple notes of the Wanderer – and listened close.

There was an odd echo. A familiar echo.

I licked the wall.

“Um, Trixie?”

I turned back around, and saw Starswirl standing there, staring at me. He looked at me like I’d just—

Okay, so I did just lick a wall. But there was a very good reason for that!

Chaos. I’ve been pranked by Discord a lot. Sometimes, it was just because I was too close to Starlight or Twilight when he got into a little huff, but I’ve been the target of more than my fair share of his ~~chickenry~~ chicanery! And after a while, I started picking up some things about Chaos Magic.

For example, Discord’s creations always resonate at a D-minor. And since Wanderer is D-major, Trixie has found you can figure out when he’s messed with something by how the two notes sound next to each other.

Musical notation isn’t so stupid now, Starlight!

Second, the taste. You’d be surprised to find that Chaos Magic tastes exactly like milk chocolate, peppermint, orange juice, and pickles.

Discord’s jaw hit the floor. While a slew of tiny Police-Discords handled statements from the witnesses – a nearby salad bowl and a four-sided triangle out on a walk – and took in the jaw for questioning, the Lord of Chaos himself stared off into infinity.

Then, he gave his paw a little lick, and gasped.

“How did she know!?”

Just like that wall. Discord was screwing with me again!

I explained all this to Swirly, of course. I am teaching him magic, after all. And learning about Chaos Magic and Discord’s antics—

Ah, fooey. I did it again, Journal. A ~~paras~~ paradox. Another paradox. I gotta learn to stop doing that before I do some real damage.

~~Unless I already have?~~

Can’t think about that. Stop thinking about that.

Trixie, stop thinking about that!

Paradoxes aside, Chaos Magic having a particular harmony (let’s ignore the taste thing for now) is fascinating, especially in light of Grogar’s Disharmonic magic. It leads one to wonder just how the Dark Lord actually used his magic to create Discord, Rhapsody, the Troggles, and so many other monsters. As much as talking to him made my fur stick up on the back of my neck, I almost want to try again, just to figure out what he did. Almost.

Interestingly, the oldest versions of The Wanderer do often start with a common folk tune as a lead-in. A common folk tune whose origin is shrouded in myth and legend. And yet, Trixie knew that it formed a perfect harmonic resonance with Chaos. I wonder how often Discord has picked on Trixie in the past now. Public records on that sort of thing are scarce, mostly by Discord’s own design.

Actually, looking over what records exist, I’m getting the feeling that there’s a pattern. Ever since Discord became permanently unfrozen (reformed is such a strong word), he has consistently popped up to target Trixie or any Trixie-adjacent creatures no less than once every 3 moons. About 99 days apart, give or take.

According to Luster Dawn, who brought this to my attention, most of these spells fall into set ranges of duration, depending on a number of factors I’m sure you’re already aware of. Long term, heavy enchanting spells typically have duration limits around one to three moons. If Luster and my calculations are right, Discord might have been enchanting Trixie half a dozen times a year, for the last three decades.

What is Discord doing to Trixie?

Fine. I gotta wrap this up. The sun’s gonna come up soon. I’m sorry I’ve been so slow, Journal. It’s just that I only just got my horn back, and it hurts worse than when I burned it up. Using magic this soon after recovering can’t be good. Swirly will have to take up doing the performance for a while longer, until I can do more than slowly push a pencil across a page.

Trixie was about to pull us out of that dead-end, and bolt for safety from whatever sick trick Discord was going to play, when it happened.

Not the trick. I still don’t know what Discord was doing putting that wall there. No, Trixie is talking about the bomb.

Discord's bushy eyebrows knitted together above his brow. That was fine, as Fluttershy was quite good at knitting herself, and would probably not mind helping him de-knit later.

But, so long as his brows were knitting themselves up, Discord would use the time to ponder a question that had suddenly occurred to him.

"Why did I put that wall there?" he asked himself. "Actually... did I put that there?"

He snorted, irritably, as the answer came to him.

"Of course..."

An explosion rocked the city. It came from a few blocks away, right where I knew the Troggles were ~~garrishing~~ were ~~garg~~ ~~garnish~~

The place where Grogar’s troops were living. It blew up. Like, a lot. My fireworks are half magic and half chemistry, and I follow very specific ~~spefic~~ specifications to make sure they’re safe for the show. Whoever built that thing had no such concern, let me tell you.

A huge plume of fire rose up into the air, so bright that Swirly hid beneath his hat. Normally, I’d pop on my patented Sunscreen Spell, and just stare right at the light, because I’m amazing like that, but that wasn’t really an option at the moment, so I also hid under my hat.

The sound was also incredible. Most of the window shutters in town ~~shuddered~~ shook as the blast roared over us.

Can explosions roar over stuff? Whatever. Edit later.

Still, it wasn’t deafening, so I could clearly hear the clatter of approaching hooves. Three ponies whipped around the corner like Tartarus was on their heels, and it probably was. All three were dressed in those stupid black cloaks that ponies think make them look cool and mysterious, but only serve to make you look like a dingus.

Also, they really hurt your peripheral vision.

Can confirm. I’ve dealt with so many cultists who could have taken over the world if they had just picked more practical headwear.

They came to a sliding halt just before crashing into our wagon, and I could hear the panic in their voices.

The one stallion amongst them sputtered, “What? Where’d that wall come from!?”

“It wasn’t here before! I swear, I checked!” Now that one sounded familiar, but I didn’t get a good look at her yet.

The third one, however, almost rammed her nose right into mine. I felt a hot, hot breath wash over me, and—

Okay, I’ll admit. Trixie was scared. I thought I saw flames under that hood!

Huh. I probably did.

“What’s going on?” she demanded, “Who are…?”

She stopped and stared at Swirly. In the depths of her hood, I could see a pair of emerald green eyes glaring his way, working something out in her brain. I didn’t like her staring at him like that. One explosion, plus a group of spooky ponies running away and screaming? Oh yeah. These were bad ponies, I was sure.

“Hey!” I shouted, “Eyes up here!”

The third pony, the mare I sort of recognized, fidgeted, and a pair of pegasus wings fluttered under her cloak. I could tell she was panicking more and more, like ~~I did~~ some actors do when they first get up on stage.

“They’re coming, darlings!” she whisper-screamed, “We need to hide!”

Okay, she didn’t actually say ‘darlings’, but I don’t know how to make it clearer to you what she sounded like. Though, considering you’ve never heard the real—

Whatever. I was about to do something. Maybe. I think. I wasn’t a friend to any of these ponies, after all, but I also wasn’t about to just let some angry, on-fire Troggles eat them or anything like that. Problem is, I don’t know exactly what I was going to do.

Because Swirly decided for me.

“Get in the wagon!” he called out, and flicked the backdoor open with his magic, “Hurry!”

“Now hold on!” I started to protest, but I knew when somepony else was in charge. And there was something in Swirly’s eyes. Something I’m not sure I’d ever seen in him yet.

Anger. Pure, bottled anger. The kind that’s loving tended to, boiled slow over an open flame, and aged in the oak barrel of the heart. Not sure where I’m going with that, but Swirly looked so peeved I thought he might explode.

So, I let it happen. The three ponies dove in, and we battened down the hatches, so to speak. Swirly himself took up a spot next to me as I tried to re-hitch myself.

But then, the Troggles came.

Four of them, half-armored, and all smoky-baconed. They pounded past our little street, only for the last one to spot the wagon and turn his compigions around. The biggest of the set marched right up to me, and I can say for certain that he was now the angriest thing I’d ever seen outside of Starlight.

“YOU!” he shouted, a crack forming along one of his tusks, “You! See? Boom! Ponies!?”

Okay. I didn’t know how to answer that one. Neither did Swirly, though he just sort of planted his hooves and glared back at the Troggles.

The second-biggest Troggle walked past his leader, and said in a much clearer way, “Have you seen three ponies run by here?”

Again, Trixie was about to give them an answer that would (hopefully) get them to leave her and Swirly alone. I’ve talked to plenty of cops, for plenty of reasons. I knew how to handle their kind.

Too bad Swirly was quicker on the draw, and much less experienced in cop-talk.

“What’s it to you?” he sneered, “We don’t know nuthin’!”

Dumb, dumb Swirly. You always lead with a bribe!

“Watch that mouth, brat,” the Troggle snarled, “Or else!”

Dum, dumb Trixie. You always shut your mouth.

“Hey, leave him out of it!” I shouted.

I mentioned before that Troggles are a lot faster than you expect them to be? Yeah, I’ve been in hoof-fights. I’ve had to do some ugly things to get by. But none of them prepared me for this. I didn’t even see the hoof before it clocked me in the eye.

Still can’t see out my left side. Hopefully, the salve the innkeeper gave me will take care of the swelling.

I was scared now, Journal. Every plan falls apart when you get punched in the face. I was laid flat out, on my back. I think I might have lost a few seconds too. Not sure. Can’t remember.

But, as I came to, Swirly was there. He tried to haul me back up, and I let him. The Troggles were glaring at us.

Or, I thought they were. Then, their boss spoke again, a little calmer now that violence had been done.

“What’s in the wagon?”

My hoof went out so fast, I think it made Swirly’s head spin. I clamped down on his muzzle, and took a few breaths. Couldn’t see out my left eye, but I wasn’t worried. I know what a black eye feels like. And recently, I’d felt much worse pain.

“Nothing,” I said, quickly, “Just stuff for our magic show.”

“Magic?” one of them grunted.

“Magic show,” I managed to find my voice again, “You know? Illusions? Card tricks? Sawing a pony in half?”

The one in the back blinked.

“That sounds pretty cool,” he said, nudging the one to his side, “But how do they stitch the pony back together?”

Yeah, Troggles are dumb.

“Open it up,” the Troggle leader demanded, pointing with his unblemished tusk, “Come on! Hurry up!”

I had to think fast. These guys were mad, and on a mission. Being careful, Trixie trot up to the lead one.

“It’s locked up tight,” I said, quickly, “Really complicated lock. Might take a few minutes. Are you sure…?”

He snorted in my face. “We’ll wait. Open it. I want to see some… magic.”

I don’t need to tell you, Journal, that I am as cool as cool can be, under pressure. But, without my magic, I was just one mare against a whole squad of these brutes. Even Swirly wouldn’t be able to do more than mildly inconvenience one of them before we were beaten down and skewered. Or whatever it is pigs do to—

Oh. Right. Pigs eat everything, don’t they? Good thing I wasn’t thinking about that tonight.

Instinctively, as I approached the door, I reached out with my magic to grab the “lock”. You should know by now that illusions are my specialty, and the illusion of security was just as good as the real thing, and at a bargain price. Peachy didn’t have any locks to give me, back in Hyneighria, so I’d sort of made some of my own. Mostly by plating the area around the door with a scrap of metal. Couldn’t really do that anymore without magic, but at the time, it seemed like the smart move.

Anyway, as I reached out, the stabbing pain came back. My whole face, starting with the side that was swelling shut, blazed like I was on fire! I caught my breath, and steadied myself.

“Hurry up! Or we’ll just bash it down and be done with this!”

“You knocked her around once already!” Swirly snarled back at the Troggle, “Give her a second! She has to use magic to open the lock.”

Yeah… magic. I flared my horn again, and the pain started up worse than before. Not only was my eye on fire, but it felt like a spider bite was traveling down my neck. Even my hooves were starting to feel hollow.

But I had to try something. Anything. Desperate times, and all that. I still don’t know why I was helping these random ponies. Just because Swirly asked me to? Really?

Yeah. Really. And maybe, just maybe I was thinking about Hyneighria again. About how I stood on a hill and watched what happened before. Or maybe I just wasn’t thinking. Whatever.

Now, Journal. A lesson in magic, and illusions. Most tricks can be done by being quick and having a great stage presence. But the best tricks are the ones the rubes can see you do, and they never notice it because of one thing:

Perspective.

See, most amateur mages will try to picture what they want reality to look like, and then try and do just that with their illusions. But, that’s why they’re amateurs. My bestie, Starlight Glimmer, once turned the two of us invisible to hide from some changelings, and she probably burned up as much mana with that one stunt as my entire show does!

You don’t need to fool yourself, aspiring magicians. You just need to fool the audience.

Trixie pulled away from the wagon, and dimmed her horn. I held out a hoof, inviting the guard to inspect the vehicle. Luckily, he took me up on that offer, and quickly.

I once did a show with DJ Pon-3 – don’t ask, it was for charity – and during the third set or so, ~~I accid~~ some stupid idiot had screwed up the lighting and electro-magical system. One thing led to another, and right in the middle of my fireworks, I ended up stepping on a fuse and got lit up like a Hearth’s Warming tree. Woke up a week later, still tasting copper. Took three moons for my mane to grow back, and I was in constant, twitching pain the whole time.

I wish I felt as good now as I did then. I locked my knees, and fell back on some breathing exercises I’d learned in the circus to quiet the shrieking pain every inch of my body was in.

Had to keep the spell up. Just for a few moments.

The Troggle opened the door, and looked inside. His beady eyes swept left, and right. All seemed normal to him. Just a magician’s wagon. Hammocks. Books. Chests. A cooking pot starting to mold up.

Yup. He saw nothing special or hooded-pony-like in there.

At least, so long as he didn’t lean another two inches forward. If he did that, he’d probably notice passing through a paper-thin set of illusory pictures hovering in front of his face, each angled perfectly so that it would look three-dimensional.

See? Perspective. A fraction of the mana and magic, for the perfect con.

Sure, it was still killing me, but I still win on style points.

Now that’s interesting! That’s actually the same technique used by those fancy new ‘animated’ movies. Cabbie got into them a while back, and he told me that angling a bunch of flat images using illusion magic on top of each other is a great way to trick the camera into seeing more depth than really exists. Trixie really was ahead of her time.

“All right,” the Troggle grumbled, and shut the door a bit harder than he needed to, “We’re done here. Hurry up! Let’s circle back and see if we can pick up the trail again!”

And like that, the Troggles rushed away to find their targets.

I didn’t let the spell go, so much as it collapsed in on itself, leaving me to gasp for fresh air. Trixie’s lungs were burning as the three ponies hopped out of the wagon, cheering and whooping it up.

Like they were the ones who did something.

“That was amazing!” the lead pony laughed, “It was like… like you put up a one-way mirror! How did you do that?”

Talking didn’t seem like a good idea, at the moment. But who could refuse a curtain call?

“They don’t call me the Great and Powerful Trixie for nothing,” I said, nonchalantly. Though, I must have appeared somewhat tuckered out, since even Swirly gave me an odd look then.

Starswirl wrote the following in the margins:

Your right side was paralyzed, your left eye was swollen shut, and you slurred your words so hard that I only now know what you were trying to say. Saving our lives or not, efficient or not, that spell almost killed you. Again.

My knees gave out, after that, and I can distinctly remember hitting the cold cobblestones with my face. Perhaps I was tired.

Anyway, just before passing out, I could make out a few words and shapes going on around me. The stallion hitched himself to my wagon, and Swirly started hefting me up into the air. The other two hooded ponies were talking, I think. Planning what to do, I suppose.

But, as I was dipping in and out of consciousness, I saw something. Or, I thought I saw something.

One of the hooded ponies wasn’t a pony at all.

“A kirin?” I remember asking.

Said kirin locked her eyes with mine, but I couldn’t hear what she said before I finally passed out.

That seems to happen a lot to me, these days.

It was still dark when I came to. I’m not sure if I dreamed about anything this time, but I do have the distinct impression of a ‘COME BACK SOON’ sign floating in a void. Best not to think too hard about that.

The only light Trixie could see were some candles the innkeeper had let us have when we’d moved in. I was wrapped up in the bedsheets, and tied down securely. Trixie discovered this fact when she tried to lift herself up, and found that every single atom of my body was screaming at me to knock it off.

I might have also screamed out loud, since there were a lot of hoofsteps as soon as that happened, all rushing towards my bed.

Swirly got to my side first, and even through one swollen eye and a whole heaping amount of pain, I could see he’d been crying.

“Hey, now,” I said, or grumbled. Can’t tell which at the moment. “I’m okay. I’m here.”

“You almost weren’t,” a stallion spoke, and I noticed the three ponies from before were in the room as well. Their hoods were gone, so I finally had a good look at each of them.

The stallion had to be the most painfully generic looking guardpony I’d ever seen. Blue crest-style mane, and a shiny white coat. At a distance, under gold armor, Trixie might have suspected him to be anypony from a traffic-guard to Twilight’s big brother. Except for being an earth pony, of course.

He spoke again. “Your ward told us you nearly burned your mana channels out completely some time ago. It was risky, even foolhardy to aide us… but we cannot thank you enough for the effort, regardless.”

“Huh?” I asked, still delirious.

And here came that pegasus mare, making apologies for how ‘rude’ her companion was being. I know you don’t know her, Journal, but just imagine a particular pony named Rarity. Got it? White unicorn? Purple hair? Full of herself?

Trixie. Glass houses.

Yeah, now just make her a minty-green pegasus with a dark-green mane, and you’re golden.

“Now, now, Joyous Guard!” she ~~admin~~ ~~admop~~ admonished him, “Trixie here saved our lives! The least we can do is thank her for aiding us. And besides, we should do more, darling.”

Sorry, Journal. But she really looks like her! I almost do the voice myself while she’s talking!

“Enough!” the third ‘pony’ said, approaching the bed, “You’re smothering her. Yes, even you, Melody. Trixie? How are you feeling?”

I tried to smile, but quickly gave up when I felt my gums revolt. “Eh, could be better. You guys?”

The third pony, the kirin? She was something else. I always liked kirins, once I found out they were a thing. Applejack brought somepony named Autumn Blaze to town just a few weeks before this nightmare started. We got along famously! Even got myself invited to the Kirin Grove to perform my show.

Really hoping I’ll make it to that.

I confirmed with Applejack that she set up a kirin-exchange program around the time Trixie’s talking about, in order to promote each others' cultures, or something. I bet she was just trying to sell more apples. You were, according to Spike, returning a library book at the time. For an entire week. Must have been some book.

Either way, Trixie is very popular among kirin. Ridiculously so. Anarchy's friend, Shade Bright, is part of a large kirin subcuture who self-identify as ‘Krixies’ (kirin-Trixies). They hold conventions every year in Baltimare to celebrate Trixie and performing arts in general. I wish I was kidding.

Anyway, said kirin had a white coat, and her mane was green with little red stripes. Kinda reminded me of Sunset Shimmer, actually. Even sounded like her.

“Thank you, again,” she told me, and even gave me a little bow.

A bow, Journal. Like, nodding your head to someone you respect. She didn’t decorate me or anything.

Oh, boy. A whole night without sleep is not doing me any favors.

“Thank you, again,” she told me, “You really saved us back there.”

“It was nothing,” I replied. I didn’t really need all the praise and glory I deserved, and the amount of pain I was in meant that I just couldn’t muster all that much energy anyway.

The pegasus chirruped, “For somepony of your amazing talents and power? Perhaps!”

While I tried to wave down the praise without actually moving my hooves, the kirin stepped up again.

“You know?” she said, eagerly, “We could always use somepony like you.”

I’d heard that before. It was never a good sales pitch.

“Oh? Use?”

She blushed, but kept on talking. “Well… um, yeah! Use! Uh, in a good way, obviously.”

“Surely, you’ve seen how Grogar rules over ponykind?” the stallion said with a growl, “He lets his monsters roam freely. He enslaves us, experiments on us, and destroys any who stand up to him!”

“And… you want to be the head of that line?” I asked, rhetorically.

“There are ponies like us, all over this land, who would want to get rid of him!”

The pegasus sang, “We are the Resistance! And together, perhaps with your help, we just might succeed!”

Great, I thought. More revolutionaries*. And she really did sing that, by the way. I thought she was going to kick off an entire Heartsong all by herself!

*Also, yes. Trixie has worked with revolutionaries before. Would not recommend. The checks always bounce.

I can't seem to find any information on Trixie's activities involving any revolutionary groups, and that scares the Tartarus out of me.

“Look, not that I don’t want to get trampled by Troggles or blown up by an angry magical ram of evil,” I told them, “But no. Thank you, but no!”

“Trixie…” Starswirl started.

“No!” I put my hoof down, and managed to not cry when I did so. “Leaving aside the fact that I’m just a... one pony," Trixie dodged a close one there, "or that I almost died from one punch from a Troggle, or that I'm taking care of a kid...!"

“Trixie, I’m not some helpless foal!” Swirly cut in, oddly stern and serious-sounding.

No matter, I ignored him.

“… But I’m also in no condition to help. I’m not looking for a fight, and I’m sure I can’t help you win this one. Grogar’s too powerful!”

“What are you talking about?” the Not-Sunset kirin snorted, “You moved the sun and moon around! Surely, you can help us beat Grogar!”

I was already rounding on the little shrimp before Swirly could slink off. Another downside of wearing a bright red outfit, I'm sure he learned that night.

I snarled. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry!” he cried, falling onto his knees by the bedside, “I just…”

Despite the way my lungs felt like they were trying to pull themselves inside out, I managed a strangled, “You can’t keep a secret to save your life, can you?”

Bit of a coughing fit followed, after that. The others were kind enough to get me some water, but I could tell they were still in ‘fresh hire’ mode, by the way they so eagerly rushed to help me.

“That was a one-time sort of thing,” I said, once my throat stopped stinging so much, “I’m not…”

Swirly jumped up from the floor, and nearly landed on me in his sudden excitement. “You are!”

Trixie was taken aback by just how forceful Swirly could be. The others seemed just as surprised as I was, and let the colt talk.

“You’re one of the greatest wizards I’ve ever…” he said, pausing a moment to swipe the hat off his head, “Okay, you are the only wizard I’ve ever met. But you’re amazing at it!”

“Swirly…” I tried to stop him.

“No!” he shouted again, “You can do all these incredible things! I’ve seen you walk on clouds, and vanish before my eyes! I’ve seen you fight monsters, cow Goddesses, hurl earth-shattering magic about, and yes… I even saw you move the very heavens above!

“Why don’t you see it?” Swirly’s voice cracked, right at the last, and I knew it wasn’t puberty. He had to wipe at his eyes before he started again. “Trixie… you are Great and Powerful… but you can’t even see how true that is.”

Journal, I was speechless.

Okay, not that speechless.

“Swirly, I can’t,” I said, shaking my head, “I’m responsible for you. I can’t just go running off to join an armed rebellion without endangering you.”

His eyes lit up at that, and I already had a sinking feeling in my gut.

“What if I join your Resistance?” he immediately whipped around and asked the kirin, “Trixie’s taught me everything she knows…”

“Hey!”

“And I’m strong!” He hefted up a nearby stool in his magic to demonstrate. “I can learn! And I have every reason to want to hurt Grogar!”

To her credit, the kirin caught my eye. If I could have learned how Fluttershy Stares, I would have given one just then that would have melted anypony in the room.

She swallowed, and shook her head.

“Sorry, kiddo… but, Trixie’s right. You’re too young for this sort of thing. And…” She looked back to me. “… if that’s your decision, we’ll respect it.

“But…” she shuffled her hooves a bit, and glanced out at the moonlit night, “Um…”

Truth be told, I was in way too much pain to care. If it meant not having to deal with these crazy ponies for another day, they could stay the night. I told them as much, too. Especially the ‘crazy’ part.

“Oh, thank you again!” she laughed, “But, that’s actually not what I wanted to ask.”

The kirin crept up a little closer, and with the pain slightly subsiding, I could make out her expressions better. She was looking at me in an odd way. Like, she was worried? Or, maybe just really curious.

“How… did you know what I was?”

Trixie was confused. “Huh?”

“Nopony I’ve met so far has had any idea what a kirin is!” she said, her eyes lighting up, “How…?”

Okay, after what I’d said before, I knew Swirly wouldn’t blow my whole time-travel cover, but I had to come up with something.

Luckily—

Actually no. Not luckily. I mean, it was lucky, but the context is pretty bad, all things being equal.

See, that stallion? Joyous Guard? He’d been standing near the window this whole time. And he had a really, really good eye. So, it was no surprise that he was the one to finally notice something was wrong.

“Uh, Gusty?” he called, and pointed out the window, “Isn’t it supposed to be a waning moon, tonight?”

“What…?” she asked, and rushed to see for herself. And, while those two started gawking out the window, my brain started spinning.

No, not in the bad way.

In the Twilight way.

“Wait… Gusty?”

Melody nodded, and smiled. “Our esteemed leader, and founder of the Resistance!”

Gusty.

Gust the Great.

Gusty the Great… is a kirin.

Trixie suddenly feels very cold, and she doesn’t know why.

Gusty the Great. The Liberator. Bellsmasher. The most famous and most beloved of all unicorn pony folk heroes outside of the very Founders of Equestria. And she was a kirin.

That’s huge! This, this right here is like—

Heck, it’s like finding out Gusty the Great was a kirin!!! There’s no other comparison! If you let this go public, it’d shatter academia! It’d be like lobbing a bomb into every university! Did the old unicorn historians just forget? Or was this a deliberate hornwashing of history?

Look, there are dozens of theories about Gusty. There was a fifty-fifty chance she wasn’t even real, you know? Sometimes, a theory about her truly being an earth pony or a pegasus got published, and usually to thunderous derision by every credible academic journal in the world. But nopony ever thought she was a kirin.

I just realized you might be having a nostalgia-induced panic attack right now. Um. Sorry.

If it helps, the doodles of the three Resistance ponies is… almost legible. Joyous Guard does look like your brother, though with a sword and shield cutie mark. And Melody, as it happens, actually has the famous gusty-leaf cutie mark, since Gusty can’t. Since she’s a kirin.

Again, sorry. Pleeeease let me publish this part!

Oh, and Trixie apparently broke the moon.

“That’s not possible,” Gusty whispered, “It’s… it should be almost a half-moon, right?”

Every eye was on Trixie. Every eye! With an enormous amount of effort - enough to where I almost passed out again right on the spot - I managed to lean over, and glance up and out of the window myself.

Yup. Full moon. Right smack dab in the middle of the sky.

I sighed. “You’re all going to blame Trixie for this, aren’t you?

That was six hours ago. I’ve just spent the last four writing in you, Journal, and the two before then waiting for the others to go to sleep so I could practice using my horn again. It still hurts to do anything with magic, so I hope you appreciate what I go through for you.

I really don’t know what I’m going to do about all this. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

So. Moon is broken. Discord is loose. Swirly is a dangerous radical. And I’ve been beaten to within an inch of my life, again.

But at least Gallopoli has indoor plumbing.

Everything's coming up Trixie!

That was sarcasm, Journal. Goodnight.

The relative cacophony of noise that was the Chaos Realm was… relatively quiet. All save for the crackle of popcorn popping out of the fireplace, and the arrhythmic ticking of a clock made out of smaller clocks.

Discord liked some relative quiet while he read.

He closed the report slowly, and stared at Daring's hoofwriting on the cover.

“Hmmm…” he hmmm’d to himself, “Getting close to the good parts, I see. Ah, and before I forget...”

A small, blueish portal formed in the air before the Spirit of Chaos, and he eagerly peered inside. Looking down from a starry early-evening, he was sure not to be spotted.

Troggles had terrible night-vision, he knew.

And there, just about to turn the corner…

“Trixie should haf trusted in thine leorningfola to make bitsen enof for we to survive. Thou did… uh, a great job tonight, kid.”

Swirly grinned, cheekily, and said, “Ja! I did, did not I? Tho, be not I a goatswain sod, Maester.”

Trixie, clearly done with Old Ponish by this point, merely sighed, and continued hauling her wagon down the road. Discord followed her path with his eyes, up to the last corner before her lodgings. The street was empty, and totally clear.

And, with a simple snap of his talon, a wall popped into existence, cutting Trixie and Starswirl off, and setting time on its course.

His task complete, Discord pulled himself back to the future, and reclined in his chair again.

“Well,” he said to the darkness around him, “If Dad didn’t ground me for turning his favorite clocktower into a giant air horn, I would have been there originally. So, it counts! Of course it counts!

“Uh… doesn’t it?”

After a few seconds, during which Discord contemplated the entirety and totality of the time-space continuum, he shrugged, and snapped his talons again. The report, still lying across his lap, vanished in a flash of light, returning to the precise moment in time he stole it from. Trixie’s next entry would appear on Twilight’s desk without any hint that he’d done anything wrong.

Which he hadn’t.

At least, he hoped so.

He really, really hoped so.

Author's Note

A special thank you to Stinium Ruide, who so generously used some of his precious time to help pre-read and edit this chapter. Thank you again, my friend!

Tonal Architect

So. Been a while, Journal.

Long time.

How have ~~you been?~~

Whole month and a half, gone by. Bet you’re wondering what I’ve been up to? Just Trixie things, Trixie assures you.

Sadly.

It wasn’t good. Like, at all. You’d think I’d have learned how serious this all was when ~~Hyneighria~~

Trixie doesn’t learn her lessons, Journal. I’ve broken the whole world. Gallopoli is gone because of me. Everything’s ruined.

Everything.

Yes, I mean it this time.

At least Trixie could potentially get a hot date out of this though, so that’s a small victory. Right? At least a moral one?

Didn't think so.

Where to begin…?

The days after meeting Gusty are all a sort of blur. Trixie’s whole body was in pain, and nothing worked right, so there wasn’t a lot I could do during the day. Or night, really. There was a lot of sleeping, that much I recall. And while that can be nice and cozy, Trixie is a mare of action! I need to be doing stuff, Journal. It is not in Trixie’s nature to sit around. Or sleep all day long.

But, when even your apprentice helps the three insurrectionists living in your room tie you down to your bed, there’s only so many ways to pass the time.

Yes, Swirly helped those ~~three ponies~~ two ponies and a ~~kirin~~ wait, kirin are ponies—

~~Are they still ponies without cutie marks? What~~ is ~~a pony, anyway? What’s the tex tack~~

Whatever. He was on my LIST. Which was—

TAXONOMY! I just remembered! And Sunburst says I can’t learn new words. Idiot. Super smart idiot.

I do not miss him, Journal. He’s like Twilight, but a colt. And with stupid hair. And a stupid vocabulation. ~~Though he did know the most amazing recipe for carrot masala.~~

So, I asked around, and it sounds like Trixie, Starlight, and Sunburst made up a pretty perfect little group before Trixie went time-traveling. Professionally, and in terms of being friends. Prior to Starlight and Sunburst tying the knot and Trixie starting her relationship with Starswirl, Rarity tells me that the local chatter in Ponyville – You probably know this, but if you want information to get out fast, you tell it to Rarity in confidence – believed they were a herd, of all things.

I mean, they all lived together, worked together, and had adventures together (time-travel notwithstanding). Didn’t help that hooman Trixie was also best friends with Starlight and Sunburst’s first kid, Sunset Shimmer.

You really need to explain how that happened, by-the-by. Luster tried, but I really couldn’t keep up with half of it.

Swirly was on my list, which was unfortunate, since he was also one of the few ponies to really spend time with me for the two or so weeks I was recovering.

Yeah. Two weeks. I’ll relate a couple episodes, just to give you an idea of what I went through.

First off, the innkeepers were nice. Not nice enough to free Trixie, but they kept me fed and watered me like a plant (I miss Starlight, all of a sudden), so that was okay. They were a couple of old mares who’d owned the place for fifty years, and you could tell they’d spent pretty much all of that time being one: married. And two: bickering.

Blossom and Snuzzle. I’ll never forget listening to those old crotchety horses fighting each other from sun-up to sundown. Truer love Trixie has never seen.

To be fair, Trixie’s idea of Love was probably inspired by those trashy stage shows and romance novels that were really big twenty years back. Always with the drama and the ‘will-they-won’t-they’ plots. Real love shouldn’t be shown by two ponies fighting and bickering, only to collapse into sweaty, passionate smooching!

Okay, so what if Caballeron and I went that way? What of it? Don’t you judge me! Sometimes couple-fighting can be hot!

Anyway, when I wasn’t being cared for by the coolest lesbians I’d ever met besides Lyra and Bonbon, I was talking with Swirly, Gusty, Melody, or Guard. They took shifts after a few days.

With Swirly, at least, I could train him by proxy. So, at night I would give him lessons in magic and sleight of hoof, and by day he’d take the wagon out to do our show. It brought in some money, but more often than not, he’d come back fuming over something or other.

“I saw an earth pony get their store knocked over by a troop of dragons!” he’d say. Or, “Some centaurs stole a poor farmer’s crop and called it ‘taxes’ for Grogar!”

“All taxes are theft, Swirly,” I explained, “That’s why they’re called taxes.”

Starswirl wrote “truth” in the margins. I’d audit them both, if I were you.

Trixie could tell he was worked up over the things going on in Gallopoli. And it took every bit of Trixie’s creativity to keep his mind on magic, instead of politics. Every night, he’d come in and go on about some new injustice, and I’d have to come up with another card trick, or coin trick, or even some of my actual spells just to calm him down.

And it didn’t help that Gusty and her crew were squatting with us. It shouldn’t surprise you to hear that a bunch of rebels will talk about being rebels with anypony willing to listen. So, I had to deal with that as well.

Can’t have Swirly join the rebellion, I said to myself. He’s too precious to the future! He could get hurt!

Now look at me. Crap, look at us. I’m sitting in a freaking cave up on Foal Mountain with—

Getting ahead of myself. Sorry.

Anyway, I guess the others weren’t too bad to talk with either. Except Joyous Guard. He’s a huge stick in the mud. He used to be like some of the pegasi in town, according to him, working for Grogar as muscle. He quit when he realized how much that sucked, and ran off with Melody instead of executing her like he was ordered to.

Joyous Guard was, until now, considered a myth. Even Flash Magnus thought of him as a Deer Tale, a story to inspire young cadets in the Cloudsdale militia. A proud warrior who had served evil, until he realized that his Duty was to the ponies, not to their rulers. According to legend, he was one of the leaders of the rebellion against Grogar, but the legends disagree on whether he was a unicorn or an earth pony.

I don’t have a high opinion of unicorn historians at this point, you understand?

Nopony agrees on his fate, either. Some stories say he mortally wounded Grogar in the final battle for the bell, but we know that can’t be true. Not unless the technical definition of ‘mortal wound’ has changed since then. Others claim he became an Alicorn himself, and vanished to join the rest of his kind. I’ll keep digging, but Trixie might be our best primary source on the guy. Yikes.

He’s not as dumb as I thought, actually. Especially considering how he used to be a guard. Joyous Guard spent most of his “shifts” with me grilling for answers.

Magical answers.

Which, to be fair, anypony would logically have done if they got to talk to the mare who’d broken the friggin’ moon.

I guess the phases of the moon aren’t a Luna thing, after all. Ponies around here seem to think it was normal for the moon to change shape. And Guard was really wanting to know how to fix that, since the moon had stopped making ‘faces’, as they called it.

Turns out, Journal, that these phases or faces or whatever are monthly things! I thought Luna just picked them for fun, but I guess not.

“When will the moon return to normal?”

“I don’t know.”

“What were the precise apsidal precession changes you made to the moon’s orbit relative to the elliptical plane?”

“I don’t know.”

“Using Stallemy’s Calculus, what level of magical output was required to move the sun per light-minute? Did you require 16 or 29 Megathaums?”

“Why are those two numbers…?”

“Please answer the question thoroughly, ma’am. Science will thank you.”

And you can see how that went.

Then, whenever he was busy, Trixie got to be foalsat by Melody Song. The Rarity-one. Green or not, pegasus or not, it was Rarity. From how she coifed her mane to how she kept using those little affectations and extra words all the time! Sure, they weren’t darling, but the Old Ponish she used doesn’t translate exact. Most literal one I can do is 'Mare of another mother', which is a mouthful.

So, darling it is.

Melody was more interested in converting me to their little rebellion than questioning me. According to her, she’s the morale officer of the group, and I believe her! Seriously, she could give Pinkie Pie lessons in smiling.

It was actually a little creepy. And sad. Ponies that smile that much usually do it because they need to smile more.

Anyway, she was originally from Hope Hollow, which explains a lot. Did a show out there once, and if it’s anything like that in the past as it was in the present, I think you could get sick smiling that much. Sounds like nothing’s really changed outside of it being called a Barony these days.

Also just like the real Rarity, Melody loves to hear herself talk.

“Oh, darling! Should the poster label Grogar as a tyrant? Or an evil tyrant? One seems a bit redundant, don’tcha know?”

“Tell me, Trixie, what could generate more fame and praise than taking down a wicked villain like Grogar? If nothing else, it would impress me~” (yes, she said it like that).

I don’t know what to do with that information.

“You don’t suppose I could borrow those fireworks of yours?” she asked one day. “They’d go marvelously well with this little attack we’re planning. A dramatic finish to a dramatic stab at freedom and justice! It’d be simply divine!”

Should have been more suspicious about that last one, but Trixie was on some bombin’ tea whenever the subject of my fireworks came up. Probably on purpose. Actually, definitely on purpose.

I don’t like these guys, let’s be honest. If it weren’t for Swirly—

Trixie is getting ahead of herself.

Okay, unpacking some things real quick.

First off, Melody Song is well-regarded in the official histories of this time period. Mostly since she wrote a lot of the primary sources for this time period. Kinda smells funny to me, but from what I’ve seen and read, most of the weird inaccuracies we’ve been finding were added onto her original records decades or centuries later. Sometimes by literal sticky-notes.

The most complete version of her History of the Great War was lost in a fire prior to the Hearth’s Warming event, so there’s not a lot to go on, sadly.

But as for the moon thing? Trixie’s right on it. The Moon’s phases are a convenient way to tell time these days, but according to this text and a few fringe theorists in the academic community, Luna didn’t invent them! They were an original naturalist means of telling time, since the moon used to orbit the planet regularly. Astonishing!

I reached out to the head of your Astronomancy division, and presented this ‘theory’ under an assumed name. According to your secretary Abacus Cinch, Professor Starbright Bloom nearly peed himself laughing, and then dunked my letter in the trash.

So, once again, pleeeeease let this be published! I wanna see the look on his stupid face!

Gusty was the most pleasant to talk with, actually. Sure, she was worried like everypony else that the moon’s phases weren’t a thing anymore. And sure, she asked some hard questions when ~~Joyous~~ somepony noticed that the days weren’t getting longer as Summer approached.

So. That’s also not a Celestia thing. Wonder what the Princesses actually invented over the years?

But, really. Outside of that, she was a lot nicer company.

Trixie was, naturally, worried at first that she’d ask me how I knew about her tribe. ~~But she seemed to buy Swirly’s story about me being a great wiz~~

She understood that I was a traveling magician, and though the distances are harder to travel in this day and age, she must have thought I was more than capable of it. I think kirin must not have changed much since this time to the present, since the few things I knew about their culture seemed to check out with her.

Theatrics, mostly. Kirin love that stuff. Any sort of art, or music, or theater, or whatever, they were always up for it. Melody might be a natural songwriter and lyricist, but that didn’t stop Gusty from trying to be the best dang actor/singer/writer/performer/circus-clown/dancer who ever lived.

And if she didn’t suck out loud at each and every one of those things, that’d be great. I mean, Trixie loves her, don’t get me wrong. But she sings like a dying bullfrog, and acts like a really, really, really bad actor.

That was oddly worded. I’m tired, Journal. Get off my back.

But being bad at art? Not a great time for kirin in any era, so she decided to leave home and seek her fortune elsewhere, doing literally anything else. I really admire her, honestly. Gusty’s a real adventurer! She’s seen the world, visited many mysterious places, plumbed the depths of the earth and crossed the highest mountain tops. She’s visited many wondrous civilizations, and even looted some of them.

Oh, right. She’s kind of a viking. Or, a former one. Don’t know how that works, exactly.

I will never forgive Trixie if she doesn’t share that story right now.

Rockhoof was good enough to explain what a viking is. I don’t know how or why Trixie knows about them, but it was a profession back before Equestria was founded. Like being a professional bandit, but a professional regardless. Earth ponies were big into it, for some reason. I guess he once tried to get Applebloom to go a-viking with him before he realized it’s illegal to raid towns these days (outside of Yakyakistan, oddly enough).

I suppose that needs explaining.

YES

Since Gusty (Gusty Flame, full name) couldn’t make her way in the art scene back home among the kirin—

Ah, not the Peaks of Peril! The kirin in the here and now live way, way away, in some place called the Kirin Grove. I didn’t want to ask about it, since that would tip my hoof to Gusty, but it sounds like some sort of migration might’ve happened at some point. Wish I asked Autumn Blaze more about it, actually.

So, she left home and became a wandering adventurer. Saw the world, met all sorts of creatures, the usual. She even knows about Nomad Marks! I tell ya, Journal, I can get along with this mare! The fact that she’s used to beating up ponies and creatures for money sort of sours it, but she had a good reason.

Sucking at art is a reason, right?

Honestly, it sounds like she had a real change of heart once she saw how bad ponies here were getting it from Grogar and his monsters. Not that she really talked all that much about it.

Like, here! Day 2 of my little imprisonment:

“So, what’s a mare with a mysterious past and crazy cool magic doing in a dump like Gallopoli?” she asked me.

Trixie was about to answer when Gusty, admittedly, got me.

“But enough about me!” she super fake-laughed. “What about you? Not every day a traveling magician can break the moon.”

“It was a one-time, special event,” I laughed back, though I think one of my ribs cracked a bit when I did. “Had to be there.”

She smiled, and lowered another spoonful of Blossom’s awesome veggie soup to my mouth. I fully credit that mare’s cooking with giving Trixie the will to get better, while also making me want to stay in bed a bit longer. She never—

Blossom never told me the recipe. Dangit.

*small passage lost to water damage, tears?*

“… could use that kinda power, you know?”

Joyous Guard was a bit of a jerk, and I don’t think he trusted me – then or even now – and Melody always pushed a little too hard for me to join them without outright saying it. At least with Gusty, she was direct, if blunt.

“Not interested,” I told her. “I gotta get Swirly back to his family. Wherever they are. I’m too busy, and he’s too young to get involved in your little rebellion.”

“Sure, sure!” she said with a nod, but Trixie could tell she was straining a bit. “I get that, really. No worries… hey! Did you know I learned some stage magician magic myself?”

That got a smile out of me. I knew she was deflecting, but it was a good deflection. Game recognizes game.

“So, you’re the Great Gusty now, are you?”

“Gusty the Great, actually,” she said with a proud sniff. “I haven’t practiced in years, but lemme see if I can…” She brought out a tiny coin, and started spinning and shifting it around, not unlike how I’d taught Swirly, just a few weeks before.

Trixie will admit, Gusty was good. Not as good as ~~the Great a~~ me, however. It was obvious she’d not practiced in a long time in the way she slid the copper coin from hoof to hoof, but it wasn’t bad. Just rusty.

Now, her acting on the other hoof, was just awful! Trixie already said it, but Gusty’s acting is worse than Celestia’s! By a lot, too. Half the act, for most magic tricks, was getting the audience on your side, getting them to want to be tricked.

The only thing Gusty could get an audience to want is cotton balls.

Ah, but Trixie is stalling, Journal. You probably want to know about the other stuff. I get that. I do.

Tough. This is my story! And Trixie shall tell her story as she wills!

Even if she’s going crazy talking to a book.

Aw, heck. You’re a better listener than most. I shouldn’t be so hard on you.

There’s a missing page here. From the way the paper tore, it looks like Trixie might’ve bitten it out and eaten it. I don’t think I want to know what she wrote.

Also, Celestia? Acting? Is there a story I don’t know about?

“Be-hold!” Gusty said in that really slow, fake type of acting ~~we all~~ some less-than-Trixie actors start with. “Now watch… wait, watching is beholding, right?”

“Right.”

I swear, the nervous smile she gave me was just like that Sunset Shimmer pony.

~~If you haven’t met her, Journal~~

Trixie has only ever met Sunset a few times, but every time I could tell she used to be so much more than she was. She was like Trixie, actually. She used to be brave, and powerful. She used to know what she wanted out of life, and took no guff in trying to achieve her dreams, no matter what other loser ponies thought about it.

Gusty was the same, I think. Joyous and Melody, they liked talking about how they met. They loved going on about “inequality this” and “persecution that” when they talked about the things they’d seen that made them want to fight Grogar. But with Gusty, every time I think she’s about to open up about what made her found this silly rebellion thing, she goes and zags away with some new story.

Admittedly, good stories. Like how she tricked a dragon into flying her across the Himallama mountains with an egg and a giant feather. She—

*smudged ink stains and mold makes the next page unreadable*

I hate everything.

I haven’t cracked that code yet, but I’ll get there. Sunset got blown up by the Elements of Harmony. Whatever hurt Gusty, and made her doubt herself and her Greatness, must have been pretty bad.

She lit up her horn, and transformed in front of my eyes. Not into a nirik, no. She turned into an exact duplicate of Melody Song!

Well. ‘Exact’ might be pushing it. It was a really good illusion, no doubt about it. But I could tell, even without my horn being able to scan the spell Gusty used, that she was burning through mana like nopony’s business.

Freakin’ Record’s Syndrome. I can’t get away from it. Why couldn’t Trixie have been born with some freaky genetic disease, huh?

Yikes. If she only knew, right?

“Pretty cool, right?” she asked me with a half-winning smile. “I may not have been great at the whole ‘acting’ thing, or singing, or dancing, or…”

She coughed, and made a good attempt at shuffling her ‘wings’. I take it back, actually. Her physical acting was pretty great, all things considered.

“But magic? I can do magi… uh oh.”

The illusion began to crumble, first with Gusty’s thick, kirin-mane slowly cracking through Melody’s chest, and then more so as the wings fell apart like a campfire burning down to embers. It was like watching cheap glass turning into lightning, and then dust.

She scowled bitterly as the last of her disguise flecked away. “Ah, phooey,” she said with a pout. “I’m really out of practice. Been using practical and combat magic so long… guess my endurance hasn’t held up.”

“You’re really just powering through with pure magical power, aren’t you?” Trixie asked, though I already knew the answer.

Gusty’s ears drooped.

“I guess I am,” she admitted. “I’ve always had this… this power, you know? But magical theory and spells are so hard to get right. Nopony teaches this stuff, especially not since Grogar took over.”

She sort of rambled for a couple of minutes after that, about how Grogar had gone out of his way to destroy any school or magic teacher he could get his hooves on when he’d conquered the place. It sounded awful, of course, but by this point I was a little wary of Gusty and Melody’s pitches to join them, so I didn’t give it much thought.

I really should have. I really, really should have.

Because what she told me next almost blew my mind.

Grogar only allowed a few bits of magic in his realm. Unicorns could still use their horns for everyday stuff. Earth ponies could farm (though it sounds like plants grow naturally here; weird). And Pegasi could fly and move clouds.

But anything more advanced had to be done under his watch… OR use Musical Notation.

Journal.

JOURNAL.

Musical. Notations.

That’s my thing!

No, no. This isn’t a “Trixie” thing. I’m not that conceited. But Grogar is using Musical Notation in his spells. I should have seen it earlier, with the bells and the chimes and the whole ‘music ram’ theme his whole operation is going for!

I know what this means!

I just didn’t realize it then.

~~If I did, Gallopoli wouldn’t be gone.~~

Can’t think like that, Trixie. Mustn’t think that. That’s too much. Too big.

I gotta tell Gusty. How do I tell Gusty? Oh jeez, how do I tell Melody? Technically, she killed Gallopoli. AND I HELPED.

I need a minute, Journal.

Scratch that, Trixie needs some cider.

Grogar is the same as Trixie.

Trixie drew several lines through her journal here, indicating a break in time, I guess. And depending on what, precisely, she meant by that last bombshell, I don’t blame her.

Remember what I got out of Grogar before?

“So, Grogar’s empire was based on Disharmony. Like, the literal bastardization of harmony, song, melody, magic, and even harmony like with relationships. It all fueled his dark magic and allowed him to alter reality basically on a whim. He built bells that could erase whole towns from existence. He had chimes and cymbals that could change the way ponies thought.”

I think this has something to do with that. It fits too well.

I’m a little scared, if I’m being honest. Trixie not being so Trixie-ish gets a little worrisome, you know?

Okay, Trixie is back.

So. Journal. ~~Have you ever~~

Nameless reader of the far future. Have you ever considered the Magic of Friendship? Like, what is it? Where does it come from? What does it do?

See, there’s a reason that ~~Trixie~~

There’s a reason why I ~~am~~ appear to be so Great and Powerful. And it might not surprise you, if you’ve read thus far, that my greatness and powerfulness are not from being a naturally magical mare. No, far from it.

Trixie is a 3. On that stupid, stupid scale they made us use back in magic elementary, Trixie Lulamoon registered only a measly 3 out of a total of 10.

“But, Trixie!” I hear you say. “You’re so talented! So magical! You are the most magical, most skilled unicorn in all of Equestria! How do you do it when you have less magic than a magic-surging foal?”

One, that’s quite rude of you, future reader. Accurate, but rude.

And there is an answer. As you well know, Trixie learned long ago that in order to cast most spells, I would have to rip them apart. I taught myself how to remove all the safety equations and bits that didn’t really matter to what I wanted to do.

Cloud-walking spell? Great, I can use a part of its equations and coding to reduce my weight so I could go super-fast!

Need a spell to boil water for cooking? Take a banana or some nuts, and cast a low-energy blasting spell at them. Voila! They start radiating heat, fast!

Bananas and nuts contain a large amount of potassium. Which thautomic mages Prance Pen and Madame Cutie discovered could be excited with low-magic impulses in order to produce extreme thaumatic events.

Trixie’s been irradiating herself, essentially.

But that is but one half of my success, reader. Journal. Whatever.

I write my spells in musical notation.

Why, you may ask? Because it’s so much easier! Think about it: to cast a spell, a unicorn needs to think up a big long series of equations, and pump enough magical energy into each part or array of runes, symbols, and numbers to get what they want to happen. Sure, emotion can help push one to casting more and more powerful spells, but ultimately, it’s the amount of mana you got, and if you did the math right.

Sorry, Starlight. If you ever read this, I didn’t really need the transmutation lessons. Those started because I figured you needed the confidence boost. Don’t be mad at Trixie. I meant well. And the teleportation lesson was still real! Trixie still isn’t great at that sort of thing.

Right, cut that bit out before you publish this. Pretty sure Starlight would go back in time to beat on her for that.

So, Trixie gets by on the mana thing by 1) cutting out everything in the spell that’s nonessential, and 2) I write it in musical notation.

Music uses symbols and signs with extra meaning to them. Notes on a page describe something that’s mathematically true, while also describing how that math affects reality! A note describing an A-major isn’t just a dot on a scale, but a tiny symbol describing how the airwaves are changed by that note being played.

Musical notes take up a fraction of the same amount of space as raw math. So, I can cut down on the inputs of a spell in order to make it even more efficient!

Don’t you see? I’m double-cheating! Double-dipping on mana-cutting. My spells are tiny, efficient, and easy to cast.

It’s still cheating. A con. But Trixie is more than okay with that.

And yet, for all my cutting costs and corners, I know that I’m not—

I’m

This is really hard.

I’m not all that magical. My best tricks could be done by Twilight in her sleep, if she put any thought into them.

And that’s because musical notation isn’t a great cheat. It cuts down on the power needed to cast spells, sure, but it also limits just how expressive my spells can get. Let’s face it, no amount of semihemidemisemiquavers are gonna fully explain a levitation spell like spelling out the raw numbers would.

I’m good, Journal. I’m really good. But there’s only so much that skill can make up for power. That’s why my fireworks are partly alchemical. That’s why acrobatics, mirrors, and sleight of hoof are still a big part of my act. I can bend magic to the breaking point, but I can’t break it.

Alright, that’s a fib.

Because there’s still one trick that musical notation can do.

See. The Magic of Friendship? It’s all about Harmony.

Harmony is when lots of different things work together to become one thing bigger than all the little parts alone. Harmony is also when you get all sorts of sounds, and pitches, notes, chords, etc, to play together nicely.

Somepony might say that those are two different definitions of Harmony.

They’re wrong. Though, admittedly, even I only fully realized that after Twilight taught me what friendship was.

Friendship is magic. Magic is Friendship. The ability that ponies and creatures have to work together. To add their strengths together. My student-friend Gallus, for instance? The magic of friendship means that even though he suuuucks at cooking, all he has to do is ask Sandbar, his friend, for some tips.

And that omelet was absolutely wonderful, by the way. Just in case either of you miscreants are reading this one day. Best thing I’ve had in years!

And just, like, a few weeks ago, they were using their Friendship to shoot a rainbow death laser at those three idiots with Grogar’s bell! See!? Friendship is Magic!

But Harmony is more than just creatures getting along. It’s a physical thing, something you can measure in the real world. And it’s effected by sound. By music! Why the heck do you think ponies can spontaneously break into musical numbers? It’s because when we’re too full of emotions, they bubble over into our magic, and explode outward.

Friendship is Magic.

Magic is Music.

Music is Harmony.

Harmony is Friendship.

I learned all this back in Celestia’s School, so I can’t tell you why nopony seems to have ever figured this part out. I just don’t get it. It’s so easy to boost your power, just by doing the notations, but more than that, using Music as part of your spellcasting lets you cheat more!

Everything is music. The entire world. Everycreature in it. We’re all just notes in a song that’s bigger than the entire universe.

How else do you think I could change Rarity’s mane into a nest, when mane magic is obviously impossible? I just changed the notes that made her mane a mane. How did I grab Rainbow Dash’s rainbow-afterimage? I just changed the notes, again.

And that’s the great tragedy of Trixie. The true sadness I must grapple with. I know how to change reality, but I can’t. Even with all that I know, Trixie only has so much magic to her name. There’s only so much I can do with all this knowledge.

But Grogar? His magic is ridiculous.

Bells that can drain magic?

Bells that can cause pain when you lie?

Sirens that can destroy cities.

It’s too much. Too, too much! He really is a monster. Or, he’s just like me. A con. But if he’s a con, and he’s not so powerful, then how can he break the rules so much harder than me!?

And—

It’s too much.

We can’t win.

How do I tell Melody? That song, that Heartsong she got started as we took back Gallopoli, was the worst possible thing she could have done.

If you know how to Musically Annotate your spells, Journal, you can always tell when somecreature else is doing them. When that Pain Bell hit me back at the Troggle camp, it hurt really badly. But I could tell there was something off about it. And now I know.

When that Siren destroyed Gallopoli, I could hear the notes.

Grogar can hear ours too. If I was him, and I’m glad I’m not, that’s what I’d do. Why not? Just build a big old bell that told me whenever anycreature used music in their magic.

He wouldn’t even need spies, would he?

I can’t let anypony sing.

I have to get Swirly out of here.

That’s exactly what Grogar said. Almost word-for-word. The music, the harmony, all of it. Divine Synesthesia. Friendship is Magic is Harmony is Music is Friendship.

Why don’t unicorns use this more? Why is it I can’t find a shred of information on Musical Notation in magic, outside of a few long dead academics who no one took seriously, or who just seemed to vanish from public life? Even Trixie’s ancestor, Night Song? The one who served Luna as her own Court Mage?

Yeah, his notes are buried under a mountain of critical research papers without proper sourcing. And newspapers with character hit-pieces from after the Nightmare Rebellion (but before Celestia covered up Luna’s involvement) that practically blamed him for the whole affair. And there’s outright pseudoscience and pseudomagical conspiracy rags providing “““Evidence””” that proved the whole Harmony field was bunk.

This is almost conspiracy theory territory. No, scratch that. This is conspiracy theory central. I sound like I’m one of those nuts who think the planet is round. Or those crazies who think nature can work without ponies—

Oh. Crap. That’s not crazy, is it? We’re so far down the rabbit hole at this point. Nothing adds up.

I’ll keep digging, but maybe you ought to ask around your own sources? I bet the Princesses know something about this. Unless they’re in on it.

But we’ve got two wrinkles to deal with first. The next couple pages (chapters, really) are funky. Like, Trixie’s in the middle of a panic-attack right now. Or, a thousand and more years ago, while she was writing this entry. But after this, she instantly calms down. I don’t buy that. Largely because of wrinkle two.

Starswirl left a message here, as well.

And so now, my dearest Trixie, we come to this section of our journey. It’s strange, reading this and realizing how much time passed between events and your chronicling of them. Right now, in your narrative, you and Gusty are talking magic. You’re still recovering (and haven’t run away yet) from your trauma. We hadn’t needed to get out the leather belts yet, or the padlock.

And yet, as you wrote these words, He was in your mind. Plying his wicked magicks in the hope of winning a future that was never his.

Oh, but I suppose, despite how much I hated that stallion, I shouldn’t speak ill of him. His life was a tragedy, after all. Destined to walk a path that would never bring him happiness or what he desired most.

I wonder, at times, what would have become of the Baron de Penumbra had he turned aside from his black desires, even just before the end?

I suppose I’ll never know.

The Baron de Penumbra. Now that’s a name. A name to run away from very, very quickly, actually.

The Crystal Empire has never been all that massive, historically. Even in the ancient, mythical days of Princess Amore the First, who supposedly built the Crystal Heart, the weather dome around the city stretched many, many more miles out from where it currently covers. Most of the Empire is, in actuality, under snow and glacial ice that’ll likely never be melted again. Not unless Cadance can suddenly master her ancestor’s true power and make a second heart.

One of the CE’s many little constituent parts is the Barony de Penumbra. It’s actually just within the dome itself. By law, it is a holding of Princess Cadance directly. The Barony was founded by a unicorn mare by the name of Blackfire Shadow, and was by tradition the most ardent and loyal of all Amore’s followers.

The trouble is, her son was the only actual Baron of the barony. Somber Heart, the Baron of Penumbra. History, however, remembers him by a very different title. His regnal one.

King Sombra.

Look, I know things will turn out mostly okay. Time travel, and all that. But this is Sombra. And just about every story he ever factored into was a tragedy. I can’t help but worry.

Princess Twilight sighed, slowly, and looked up from her reading. She sat in her room, atop the deep purple covers of her bed, where she’d been reading all night. And all day.

And into the next day, as well. But that was fine, since the Simulacrum Spell was still working, so she was also drafting a bill on griffon import tariffs down in the throne room, and was spending a few quiet minutes with Gallus down in the labs where the new Thaumo-spectrometer was busy trying to get a bead on Discord’s magical signature.

So far, no luck. All three copies of the princess sighed at this lack of progress. Two of them snorted at the thought that Sombra of all ponies factored into Trixie’s tale now.

The one with Gallus sneered, and tapped the magical device irritably, willing it to finally find the sneaky draconequus.

Nothing happened.

Nothing except for a small puff of green dragonfire, which dropped a small, crumpled note onto Twilight’s desk.

And once she’d read it, both of her mentally-linked clones promptly vanished in a flash of light, recombining, and allowing the now sole Princess of Equestria to storm out of her rooms, and sprint towards the Royal Library. Every guard along the route either fell back in surprise, or tried to get a magical warning sent ahead, to at least buy time for their fellows to get the civilians out of the way.

For when Princess Twilight Sparkle was held in the grip of her madness-place, a crazed scholarly drive that could only be satiated by answers, it was no wonder that no sane creature would stand before her.

Dear Princess Twilight;

Starswirl just entered the library. He’s wandering around right now, I haven’t spoken to him yet. Cabbie is gonna distract him, but ever since that creepy Hearth's Warming thing he wrote, I know you've wanted to talk to Starswirl yourself.

Hurry.
Daring

Author's Note

There's really nothing cooler than the concept of Tonal Architecture. The idea that sound, music, and reality are one and the same? Beautiful. If you ever wanna just absorb some insane philosophical worldbuilding, I can't think of anyone better to listen to than Micheal Kirkbride, the dude behind Morrowind's lore.

Next couple of chapters are closely related/tied together, so expect a lot of continuity between this, next chapter, and hopefully just the one after that. These three should represent one big Entry into Trixie's journal.

In my first big adventure story, Midnight at the Crystal Library, I tried drumming up more comments/discussion by laying out my thoughts in the author's notes. Gonna try that again, for a little bit. See how y'all take to that.

The Windchimes of Winter

There is a special time in Spring in Canterlot, in the weeks following the Grand Galloping Gala, where the late afternoon sun becomes positively dazzling, spreading a thick orange light to every face and facet of the Canterhorn’s western slopes. It created an effect in the streets and in buildings facing that direction called a chiaroscuro, where the orange beams washed out all colors not in shadow. It had become such a popular local celestial event that the nobles of Canterlot had relocated their annual hob-knobbing to this time after the Gala – Pinkie’s additions were fun, but not quite the nobility’s style – and many little street festivities were celebrated by the Canterlot locals. Orange and black briefly became the city’s colors.

The Starswirl the Bearded Wing of the Royal Library was no exception. In fact, quite the opposite, as the library’s staff were so enamored of the lighting that they had formally protested Princess Twilight’s attempts to introduce light-sensitive windows to the library that would magically shade the room during the afternoon’s most glaring golden hour.

The Princess was never so upset by her staff showing initiative and backbone, mostly because it meant she had to relocate her favorite reading nook to the northern face of the building.

Standing in that harsh-yet-beautiful light were two ponies that, on the surface, couldn’t be any further apart if they tried. One was tall, gaunt, and wore a peaked hat ringed in tiny bells. The other was short, wide – he blamed his puffy shirts and his wife’s cooking – and bore a wide grey beard beneath a simple cap.

And yet, the first looked upon the second with sparkling awe in his eyes.

“I just don’t understand how Caballeron and Daring survived!” Starswirl almost whined. “How did they know the Storm King’s castle would have magic-proofed refrigerators just lying around? And even then, how was it durable enough to hold up against the legendary Spectrum of Lightning going critical? A blast of that magnitude should have destroyed them both, regardless of shelter!”

“Ah, well, you see…” Famed author Groom Q.Q. Martingale stuttered, and glanced over his shoulder towards his wife. A.K. Yearling was just thrusting a wadded-up bit of paper – no doubt carrying a message for Princess Twilight – into the bright green dragonflame candle sitting with her at the large central round-table from where she’d been working as Starswirl the Bearded entered the library.

When their eyes met, his wife of twenty years gave the old stallion a death glare and a gesture that he’d long since learned roughly translated as “Stall for time, since I forgot to wrap one of the kids’ Hearth’s Warming presents”.

It could mean other things, of course. Groom – or, Caballeron, as was his real name – had also seen that gesture from AK – or, Daring Do – mean everything from “distract the hideous temple guardian trying to eat us”, to “when I get out of this death trap, I’m going to enjoy writing about how badly I’m going to beat you up”, to even “you sexy hunk of a stallion, where have you been all my life and how soon can we elope to the Baahamas?”

That last one was the best translation, in his opinion. If only for being so rare in its use.

Either way, he knew stalling was probably the most likely meaning, and would not disappoint the Missus.

“You see, Signore Swirl,” Caballeron said, stroking his not-so-fake-these-days silver beard in authorial presentation, “Unbeknown to most, Doctor Caballeron had once pulled a heist in that very castle, and remembered its contents and layout most excellently.”

“Really?” Starswirl frowned. “Which book was that?”

“Sadly, unpublished,” Caballeron quickly replied. “My… editor was unimpressed with some of the subplots, and so had me scrap it to work on The Peryton Plight.”

That, and I never told Daring about that particular heist, even after I came clean about the others. Best not to open that old wound…

Starswirl’s eyes lit up, and he gave a few vigorous nods. “Ah, I see. Well, TPP is one of my favorites, so… I suppose that’s all fair. I assume the events of that manuscript were still canon then…?”

“But of course!”

“Though that still doesn’t explain how they survived!” the elder stallion said with a click of his tongue. “I can’t tell you how long I argued at the last convention with that simpering Quibble Pants about the plausibility of a refrigerator surviving a Thaumonuclear explosion! That artifact was rated at a destructive output of 1.21 Jigawatts! It should have torn their atoms apart!”

“Well, of course it should,” said Daring, now approaching the two stallions. “That thing was… well, it packed a wallop, that much I know.”

Caballeron felt a bead of sweat drip down his brow as his wife approached. He kept glancing between her and Starswirl, looking for any sign that the ancient, powerful, brilliant wizard had noticed the clump of loose hair sticking haphazardly out of Daring’s flowery hat. In front of such a mind as his, Caballeron had no doubt Starswirl would make the connection if he saw the black, grey, and white strands coming out of the famous author’s head.

Sure, not such a bad thing for Daring if one more fan realizes she’s real… but I’m still not clear of the statute of limitations!

“But…” Daring said in a teasing tone. “The Storm King had built his merch out of the cheapest materials he could find. The fridge had so much lead in it that it became a super-heavy Fair Day cage!”

Starswirl frowned. “Fair Day?”

“Famous Lightning Mage,” Caballeron answered quickly. “She developed a means of protecting oneself from electric spells, if I recall correctly.”

Daring flashed her eyes up at Cab.

“You did read my paper…” she whispered, a blush and a smile creeping onto her face. Caballeron felt his own cheeks warm at the sight.

Starswirl, however, simply hummed, and scratched at his beard.

“So many centuries of progress,” he mused. “So many to keep track of… Ah!”

He stamped his hoof, and smiled as though he’d just found the last piece of a puzzle.

“But the force!” he cried. “How could Caballeron and Daring survive the impact of landing in the desert after the Spectrum exploded?”

Daring swiveled her head back towards the grey stallion, her smile intact. And knowing.

“You’re familiar with Prenatal Magic surges?

At that, Starswirl rolled his eyes, and scoffed. “Of course, I know about Prenatal Magic. Pony fetuses develop magic in the womb, and can have flare-ups while in development. I am a father, after all.”

“Well, at the time, Daring didn’t know she and Cabbie… uh, Caballeron,” Daring corrected with another, different blush, “had a certain somepony on the way. So, when they went sailing through the air in that fridge, the little filly flared her nascent unicorn magic, and sucked most of the kinetic energy out of it before they crashed.”

Starswirl blinked.

“Wait… you mean…?”

Caballeron smiled, and nodded. “Si. Carmare Sandineighgo…”

“Gaah!” Starswirl cried out, and threw his head back, startling the two other ponies. “You planned on Carmare that far back!?”

“Technically, she wasn’t planned— ow!”

Caballeron winced, and clutched at his side, where a distinctly hoof-shaped imprint had left itself. From the thin line that was her smile, it didn’t look like Daring had even moved.

A flash of silver magic lit up from Starswirl’s horn, and a hefty stack of papers appeared in the air before him. With a snarl, and a scowl, he brought out a quill and began making furious notations on one page approximately halfway through the stack.

“How can anypony be expected to keep up with these fictional universes!?” He grumbled, and mumbled, and possibly cursed under his beard. “All these original characters, and these plot twists… maybe Quibble was right. We need a fan encyclopedia…”

And with another flash of his magic, Starswirl sent the whole thing away.

“At least the timeline is updated,” he sighed. Then, returning his attention to the somewhat confused authors before him, he added, “Thank you, for the clarifications. I apologize if I seem rather… intense, as of late. I’ve needed the distraction…”

“Perfectly understandable!” Daring cut in, a worried smile plastered over her face. She reached out one hoof to pat Starswirl’s shoulder, and let her smile settle into a slightly more genuine one. “Everycreature needs a distraction once in a while. Especially for… well.”

Starswirl took a long, deep breath. “Yes, well indeed.”

The old stallion seemed, to Caballeron, at least, to deflate a little at Daring’s touch, to sink a little into himself. His eyes, just a moment flashing with fire and fury as he’d scribbled away at his ‘distraction’, sagged just a bit. His curly grey mane and beard looked flatter than they had just moments before.

It is like watching a pony age right before your eyes…

Starswirl breathed again, and said, “Yes. You’re right. Distractions…”

And like that, the moment had passed. Starswirl straightened himself out, and slipped back into his role. The stately, wise wizard. The unflappable hero of legend.

Ah, but I saw you. Caballeron thought to himself, eyes not daring to look away from the older stallion. Eyes not daring at all to look at his own wife, and imagine her laying in a bed, waiting to… to…

“Please, do not hesitate to come speak with either of us, if you need something, my friend,” Caballeron said, one hoof over his heart. “We’re stuck in this library all day, doing research for the Princess, after all. We could use distractions, as well.”

Daring’s eyes narrowed, and her lips turned down into a tiny pout. “How can you need a distraction? We’re learning so much about ancient Equestria with this research!”

“Can I sell it, take over a small nation with it, or write a single paper about it without having to worry about the Princess putting me in a dungeon off in another country entirely?” Caballeron asked with a single raised eyebrow.

The Missus stewed and grumbled, but said no more. This drew a soft, though victorious chuckle from her husband.

Starswirl smiled along with them. It was a sad smile, neither of the couple wished to admit, but it was not so heavy as well. The older stallion was possibly even happy, for a moment or two.

“You remind me so much of Trixie and Celeste,” he said with a shake of his head. The bells along the rim of his hat jangled lightly, echoing in the library’s acoustic silence. “They always make fun of me for liking your books so much, you know?”

“Oh?” Daring asked.

“Indeed!” Starswirl said with a short, clipped laugh. “Both of them, in fact. They’ve kept up a little joke between themselves that you two are actually the characters from your books. Doctor Caballeron and Daring Do!”

Both Cab and Daring laughed… sort of. They mostly just shared a look with each other, and waited for their super-fan to finish his own laughing fit.

“Ah, si…” Caballeron’s face flushed red beneath his beard and hat, Daring doing likewise, sans the beard. “… I do suppose we resemble them most… thoroughly, at that.”

“Aren’t they inventive?” Starswirl asked with a smile. Then, pointing to Caballeron’s muzzle, he added, “Though, I must admit that, without the beard, I might have had similar thoughts as well.”

Starswirl paused, and hummed for a moment.

“Actually,” he said, slowly, cautiously, “do you happen to use product? As a sort of… connoisseur of beards, I’d love to know.”

Caballeron blanched, and rolled his eyes.

“No, never! At least not since those dos cacas Flim and Flam convinced me to try their product…” He grumbled, and patted his beard gently, like a mother soothing her crying child. “Took me a year before my fur grew back, let alone the beard…!”

“That was a good year,” Daring laughed at Caballeron’s past misery. “I hated that thing when you first grew it. Too ticklish. I kept sneezing…”

“Really?” Caballeron’s face fell, and a look of shocked betrayal filled his eyes… or those could have been tears, but being Macho, such was impossible for a stallion of his caliber. “I thought you said you liked my beard…”

Daring hummed, and adjusted her glasses – curse the world for getting blurry just as she was entering middle age! – with one wing. She smiled and looked up at her husband with a half-lidded stare.

“In my old age…” she said, reaching up to peck his lips with her own, “… I’ve learned to like ticklish…”

Yet, before Caballeron could fall into the two rosy-colored pools that stared back up at him with such emotion… it appeared that there was a ruckus in the library.

Or, outside the library.

Rather, something very large and heavy suddenly crashed through the library’s main doors, scattering a few guards and librarians as the gangly giant form of Princess Twilight Sparkle tumbled into the room. This was across the library and past several full shelves of books and other artifacts, so Caballeron, Daring, and Starswirl could only guess that it was the Princess of Friendship, but… well. Come on.

“Ack! I’m so sorry! Was just in a hurry!”

“Uh, no problem… Your Majesty?”

The two researchers and one wizard paused, and listened as the Princess carefully hopped up to her hooves and began profusely apologizing to her downed subjects. A few purple flashes of magical light could be seen across the ceiling, even in this deeply orange hour, signaling Twilight’s attempts, no doubt, to right everything and everypony that had been knocked over in her mad dash for the library.

After a few more moments, punctuated with the occasional “I’m sorry”, and “I know, it’s a library, I’ll be quieter, promise”, a red-faced Princess Twilight, ears downturned in obvious embarrassment, shuffled around the bend in the book aisle before she leapt into a trot to reach her quarry.

“Ah, good!” Twilight half-whispered as she reached them. “I was just thinking I should see how you were doing, Starswirl…”

Starswirl, eyes crinkling slightly with a smile, held up one hoof to forestall whatever excuses she had prepared.

“It is perfectly alright, Your Majesty,” he said with an unvoiced chuckle. “I saw Miss Yearling send the message. I suspected you’d have questions for me.”

Instantly, Twilight deflated. A feat, considering how much larger she was than every other pony around her. A little embarrassment fled her form, replaced by a chagrined smile that was still a sight better than the frown she’d been wearing from her rather rapid entry into the building.

“That would be correct,” she said, lightly. “Sorry, I just didn’t want it to be like a Princess thing, and more like a friend thing. You know? Less ordering you to answer questions and more…”

She paused, and took another long, slow breath.

After a moment, Twilight leaned back and took a more regal pose. She drew in a quick succession of calming breaths, one hoof going in and out from her chest as she’d been taught long ago, before the final tension seemed to melt from her shoulders.

“Sorry,” she said, now far more in control than she’d been a moment ago. “Ran all the way here.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Starswirl laughed. “I suppose I owe you a few answers then, if you’re going to put in that much effort just to talk to me.”

Twilight shot her former idol a shiny, toothy grin, before she turned to look down at her top researchers.

“I can relay anything important to the journal later,” she said. Then, giving Daring a wink, she added, “You two have been working non-stop for days now. Go on. Take a break.”

Daring, naturally, bit down on her tongue before she could manage to either scream or commit outright treason. Caballeron wasn’t sure which, but he knew his wife was about to do something along those lines, the way her eyes bulged and her jaw almost hit the floor.

“I, ah, believe that would be to the good,” he answered quickly, nodding along as he swept his wife into a half-hug, and tried to shovel them both from the royal presence. “We could use the time for other things. Private things. Right, darling?”

Daring snapped her head around at him, and shot the old stallion a glare that might have once brought Caballeron to his knees in fright.

But then, instantly, her eyes changed. The anger fell away, replaced by…

Sparkles?

“Private… things…?” she mouthed.

Her wing wrapped around his barrel, and within moments, Caballeron found himself hurtling away from Princess Twilight and Starswirl, towards the main doors of the library.

“Oh!” he laughed, startled. “I did not realize that would excite you so…!”

“Of course, it would! You’re a genius, honey!” Daring cheered as she dragged him along in her wake.

Her tone of voice sounded excited… but Caballeron began to wonder if it was the right sort of excited.

“Though this is true… in what way am I a genius this time?”

The couple came to a sliding halt at the edge of the library. Daring spun her husband around, and almost cracked his neck with all the force she put into dragging their faces together.

She peered into his eyes with exuberant glee.

“Private!” she said, excitedly. “There’s a guard station right around the corner where we can use the Palace Scrying System to listen in on their conversation!”

“… oh…”

She grinned, ear to ear, and laughed in a maniacal voice, “No one can hide a mystery from me, Cabbie! No one!”

“Of course not, dear…” Caballeron said, frowning.

Daring, perhaps not noticing, wrapped one forehoof around his, and began to pull Caballeron down the hall, towards the guard post.

“And then, once we know more about whatever Starswirl’s hiding,” she added with a chuckle, “let’s make out in the guard’s room!”

Watchfire, the Guards’ youngest dragon member, was standing watch over the Eastern Hall of the palace that day. It was his first rotation after training camp, and it was the first day of a long, glorious career that would see his name and his legacy carried into the halls of dragon legends. He would be famous, and beloved, all across Equestria and the Dragonlands one day, his name second only to those of Spike, Ember, and Smolder in the annals of their people.

And yet even when he was old and toothless, lying atop a horde of gold bits, gemstones, and mint-condition Elements of Harmony action figures – with kung-fu action grip – that would make Torch himself jealous, Watchfire the Bold would be forever haunted by the smile on that one nameless stallion’s face as he was dragged through the palace halls by his apparent marefriend.

For Watchfire had never, in all of his thousands of years of bravery and service, ever felt half as happy as that giddy idiot seemed to be that day. And he oft wondered if he ever would…

“How is Trixie doing?”

Starswirl blinked, at the question, his mind elsewhere. It was still with Yearling and Martingale as the couple had taken off at a run. Gusty only knew what they would be up to right now, but it didn’t take him long to reach a conclusion.

If he had Trixie right here with him, in good health, he knew what he’d do.

Probably hop over to the guard station up the East Hall. The one he’d helped install scrying spells into just last year. Sure, he’d also appreciate a good nuzzle and smooch from his wife, but even at his most amorous, Starswirl would have wanted to listen in to a conversation between an archmage and a Princess.

That wasn’t weird, right?

“Starswirl?”

Oh, he hadn’t answered the question.

“She’s doing rather well, actually,” he said, and turned to make his way towards the section of the Starswirl Wing that dealt with purely historical artifacts. Like his old step-stool. Or a novelty mug-holder Flash Magnus had given him for a birthday, but that the overzealous research staff had labeled an historic curiosity and refused to give back to him.

As they passed by something he assumed to be the fossilized remains of his uneaten lunch from the day he’d run off to confront the Pony of Shadows, Starswirl elaborated somewhat.

“Your students, Abacus Cinch and Luster Dawn, came by the hospital room after they determined it was Discord’s magic filling up her lungs. They shared their findings with Doctor Dinky, and came up with a rather remarkable set of spells to treat Trixie with.”

He paused, but only to give Twilight a shrug and a half-smile.

“Not a cure, as I understand it,” Starswirl sighed. “But, she’s back down to one Oxygen Crystal. Probably gave us… another week? Week and a half, if Luster’s calculations are correct.

“I’ve said it before,” he said as he turned down another bookcase corridor, “but she’s just about the cleverest little pony I’ve seen since, well… Clever, actually. Sunburst and Starlight should be proud.”

The two came across a small break in the shelving, a space helpfully labeled by a sign which read: ‘Authentic Starswirl the Bearded Sitting Room Furniture Recreation. DO NOT SIT.’

Which made Starswirl himself chuckle, since he’d never laid eyes on the furniture in his life. Not that it wasn’t nice, a pair of plush, high-backed chairs plus ottomans, all furnished in a constellation-theme of night-dark blues and crackling silver and gold stars. They had been set up in front of a fake fireplace, with a rather fancy fake tea set placed between them. It almost did look like a recreation of somepony’s sitting room, and a swanky one at that.

Whoever had actually owned it all before it had been reappropriated by a stuffy librarian, they certainly had style.

“They are proud, as am I,” Twilight said, eyes twinging a little as Starswirl kicked the sign over, and settled himself into one of the two chairs. “And that’s great news, about Trixie!”

Starswirl nodded, and squished down a little further into the chair he’d picked.

Plush. Plush doesn’t begin to describe this. I really wish I had owned it, once. Then maybe I could get Twilight to let me take it home…

He paused in his slow unwinding, having suddenly noticed the way Twilight… stared at the other seat. He wondered, for a moment, if Twilight was concerned about her relative size compared to it, which would have been silly since it was clearly sized for something roughly alicorn-shaped – Starswirl suspected everything of “his” in this place had a Celestia-sized equivalent nearby – but there was an almost nervousness to her expression.

Starswirl raised a single eyebrow, and asked, “Twilight?”

She snapped her face back towards him, lips pulled into a thin line.

“Oh, um…” She bit her lip, and flicked her gaze back down to the chair itself. “But… it’s historical…”

Starswirl’s eyes widened. It was good that his mustache covered so much of his lips, he realized. It was simple enough to pull his lips in, and use it and his beard to hide the twisted smile that creeped across his face at just that moment.

“Ah, Princess? Since all this is… apparently, my furniture, would it help if I gave you permission to sit in it?”

The Princess’ face went blank. For a moment. And then a truly Pinkie-like smile, full of the sort of joy most ponies could ever dream about experiencing lit up in her eyes.

Twilight smiled, and nearly leapt up on her hind hooves with excitement.

Nearly.

She was, after all, the Princess of Equestria. Imperium Regnum, Bearer of Magic, Friendmaker, etc, etc, and all the other titles besides. A certain amount of decorum was a must.

Twilight still let out a little squee, however, before she gingerly stepped into the midnight-hued chair, and began wriggling her way deep down into the cushions. Only a fellow book-lover like Starswirl could understand the little joyful hum she let out as Twilight nestled into a good reading-position.

After a customary few moments to acclimate to unrivaled, perhaps even magical comfort…

Starswirl ran through a quick mental mental checklist, at that thought. But, after a few moments, he was certain that the Mind-Controlling Sleep Chairs of Aramarethea had indeed been tossed into one of those magic-less dimensions long ago, and allowed himself to…

Starswirl made yet another mental checklist. This one included contacting Sunset Shimmer about a mind-controlling sofa before some poor human ended up getting sleeped to death.

“So, if Trixie’s doing a little better, why exactly are you here?” Twilight asked, finally cutting through Starswirl’s thoughts. Perhaps thinking better of her wording, the Princess grimaced slightly, and added, “By that, I mean why aren’t you with her now?”

“Mostly, it was her idea,” he answered promptly, and chuckled. “She said that I was acting ‘like a sad sack’, and suggested I needed some fresh air.”

Twilight winced. “She’s never been one for tact, has she?”

Starswirl laughed, and said, “Perhaps not. But brutal honesty has its place, I think. Especially when one is, indeed, being a sad sack.”

The Princess said nothing, instead nodding sagely as she lit up her horn. It was so subtle that even Starswirl almost missed it. The tea set before them vanished without a sound, replaced by Twilight’s own personal set. He could tell that, as most of it was of modern human design. Battery powered, in most cases.

Starswirl himself quite enjoyed human ingenuity. There was something primally intoxicating about a race that could use magic – well, technology – without having magic.

I do wish I hadn’t tossed so many artifacts willy-nilly into their world, in retrospect, he thought as Twilight began pouring them both steaming cups of tea.

Technicolor humans! Can’t help but feel responsible for that…

“Well, it sounded like you were having fun with Da… AK Yearling, and Martingale,” she said as she pulled out a tea bag decorated with a black and white zebra stripe pattern. “So… distraction successful?”

Twilight set down cups for her and Starswirl, each with one of the zebra-stripe bags sitting in them, before she poured the already piping hot water from her kettle.

Starswirl marveled as the water in his cup began to take on a brilliant, zebra-stripe pattern. The white and the black remained entirely separated, as distinct as black and white could be. Even the quick addition of milk, and the intrusion of a stirring spoon failed to disrupt the pattern.

He laughed, “Ah! Zecora’s Everfree Leaf! I didn’t know she’d finished a new batch.”

“She lets me buy some early,” Twilight explained, and took a quick sip herself. As her magic pulled out a small tin of tiny cookies to place on the table, she added, nonchalantly, “I guess she thinks she owes me for that Beholder situation…”

The two chuckled at the somewhat dire memory, and sat together in the appreciable silence. Starswirl sipped gently at his drink, and idly wondered how long it had been since he’d seen Zecora’s homeland. Centuries, at least. Sure, the tea she brewed in the Everfree would be just as rare there as here, but the combination of milky and bitter flavors reminded him somewhat of his journeys out that way, and a fleeting moment of nostalgia overtook him.

And then, he remembered who he wouldn’t be sharing that experience with, if he did go off to visit Farasi again.

It was almost poetic, he thought, that Twilight chose then to begin lowering the sun. Deep, purple hues slowly pushed aside glaring oranges, and a softer, calming blue slowly filled out the shadows, but only for a moment.

A clickity-clack sound from above preceded a vibratory hum, which itself preceded the sudden, violent flash of the cruel fluorescent bulb from the library’s ceiling. Starswirl closed his eyes against the harsh glare with a hiss. As did the Princess, amusingly enough.

“Oh, that does sort of kill the mood, doesn’t it?” she asked nopony in particular, eyes squinting into the white, unflattering light.

Starswirl hummed in agreement, and quickly glanced around. The tea set looked quite mechanical in this lighting, and the furniture not quite so lively. He could make out every tiny scratch in the wood and every stitch in the cloth as if the bulbs up above were trying to show every flaw and crack in effervescent gleam.

Well. There was no doing for that.

The illusion of comfort was necessary, today.

The ancient stallion sighed through his nose, and took one more look around. Seeing that he and Twilight were truly alone, he caught her eye with a short hoof-gesture. He then reached up to the brim of his hat with that hoof, and gave one of the bells hanging there the tiniest little tap.

Twilight almost reared up out of her seat as the tiny, golden bell no bigger than a filly’s eye let out a long, low, mournful doll. A distinctly sharp F note rolled over the Princess, eliciting a tingly, biting sensation all throughout her body. Starswirl, for his part, allowed the sound to wash over him, completely at ease.

He closed his eyes, slowly.

When he opened them again, he was sitting in another place. Gone was the library. The fluorescent lighting had been replaced by the dull, warm hues of a roaring fireplace. The light echoes of hoofsteps on linoleum tile and the dry flick of turning pages was now the crackle of a fireplace, the low rumble of a distant winter wind, and the groan of a timber house still settling.

The chairs, as well as Twilight’s tea set, remained exactly as they were. They were just now set before the fireplace of a rustic log cabin, upon a deep shag rug, in the middle of a snowstorm. The windows, what few there were, were entirely frosted over, but clearly also protecting the occupants from the dark night, as well as the cold.

Twilight gaped at her suddenly rustic surroundings. Her eyes were as wide as her jaw hung open. For a moment, even her ethereal mane paused, perhaps in utter shock.

“I… what!?” She shook her head, and rubbed at her eyes. When the vision of the cabin in winter failed to dissipate, she glared at her teacup suspiciously. “I swear Pinkie, if this was you…”

“No, no. It wasn’t Pinkie,” Starswirl said with a warm chuckle. “This is one of mine. An illusion, of sorts.”

He waved one hoof through a nearby wooden table, which hadn’t been there a moment before. As his hoof passed completely through it, he added, “This is little more than a… preserved memory. A place and time long gone now.”

Starswirl allowed a curious smile to curl his mustache.

“And, considering how I think this conversation will go, the harmonics of the spell will also work wonders to scramble any attempt to spy on us with magic…”

The crystal ball was showing static.

This was not good.

“Daring? Sweetheart? My love? The apple of my eye? Mi corazon? You seem… how you say? A touch peeved at the expensive, government scrying spell, and I am beginning to worry tha—”

The single guard on duty that day – an elderly stallion in the twilight years (ha!) of his service named Alarm Belle – proved his worth by valiantly gagging Caballeron with a sock and dragging him from the room before Daring Do became only the fourth pegasus in history to spontaneous combust from pure rage.

Twilight’s eyes shone and sparkled as she took in the sight.

Then, she snapped her attention back down towards Starswirl.

“Harmonic?” she whispered. Her voice almost trembled. “Is this Harmonic magic?”

Starswirl didn’t move. The tea in his magical grasp did not shift or clatter in the slightest. No more ringing came from his bells, and his hat remained as ever-drooping as it had been before.

But the easy smile he wore seemed… tight. Restrained.

Distant.

“Ah. So that’s where you’re at now,” he said, and raised the tea to his lips again. “Harmony.”

“And it’s so exciting!” the Princess squealed in response. “Such information! Such new, undiscovered magic! It’s brilliant!”

“That it is,” Starswirl agreed, airily. His eyes never left his tea.

Twilight carried on. “My mind practically exploded once I started thinking about it!”

“I bet it did…”

“It was like…” Twilight held her hooves out, like she was trying to physically show Starswirl something that she didn’t have the words to describe. She gasped at the very idea, and threw her wings out for additional emphasis. “You know!?”

“A little,” said Starswirl, barely noticing the Princess’ minor meltdown.

“That Trixie, of all ponies, was in on such a… I mean, just hearing her describe it was like a religious…”

Twilight held her breath, and seemed to constrict in on herself. With a great, emotional puff, she let it out, and started to deflate a little bit again.

Then, slowly, and with greater care, she said, “Harmony is… it’s something so intrinsic to the world. To Friendship. It’s like, when I read Trixie’s words, it all… clicked for me.”

She breathed out her nose in a soft snort.

“I ascended through the Magic of Harmony. Heck, that whole day was just one long musical number, if I remember it right.

“My unicorn body was… atomized, really,” she said with a slight twitch of existential dread touching her twitching eyelids. “And then it was rebuilt. An apotheosis I never thought I could understand or quantify… and it was Trixie of all ponies who described what I’ve been feeling ever since.

“The music remains. But the song changes…”

She stared, wide-eyed, into space, a look of near-bliss covering her face. “I was one song… and then another…”

Starswirl hummed. “Looks like she was right.”

Twilight blinked. She crossed her forelegs before her, defensively, and shot the old stallion another raised eyebrow.

“Right? She?”

Starswirl smirked, and said, “Trixie.”

“The journal thing!?” Twilight snarled, and angrily sipped at her tea. She didn’t even try to hide the clattering of her cup on the plate as she finished, and gave another snort. “That’s ridiculous! At this point, I can’t believe you’d still think I couldn’t take Trixie at her word about this stuff!”

“You’re a very… evidence-based pony,” Starswirl said, calmly.

“And Trixie has demonstrated her truthfulness through all this!” Twilight retorted with a jab of her hoof. “If you could just tell us what happened, we wouldn’t have to go through this whole dog-and-pony show…”

“I still don’t remember when that phrase became a thing,” Starswirl muttered to himself. Then, tilting his head to the side, he said, “But, in any case, I will not go against my wife’s wishes in this matter. She’s more or less the expert on how you think.”

Twilight scoffed. “I doubt that very much. Please, Starswirl… for all the years we’ve been friends, can you really think so little of me?”

“On the contrary,” Starswirl said with a shake of his head, “I think more highly of you than any pony yet living. But in this case…”

“I promise!” Twilight snapped, one hoof coming dangerously close to smashing her brand-new tea set to powder, and drew herself up with all the regality at her disposal. “I… promise. I will believe everything that Trixie says about what happened. I will listen, and I will hear her.

“You have my…”

“Trixie killed Sombra,” said Starswirl, without preamble or warning.

Twilight’s reply was instantaneous.

“I don’t believe you.”

The words came out of Twilight’s mouth so fast that she quite possibly didn’t hear herself say them. There was an actual audible delay between her words being spoken, and the way her ears twitched. Her eyes dilated, and her jaw dropped just a little bit.

There was a pause, a breath. Starswirl sipped his tea. The illusory wind outside howled. The fake fire crackled in its hearth. Twilight slapped her hooves over her mouth, and sank deep into the cushions of her surprisingly comfortable seat.

“What is wrong with me?” Twilight whispered, distantly. “I… I’m not that pony, am I?”

She lowered her hooves, and stared at them.

“I’m not a bad pony…”

Her eyes came up, glistening.

“Am I?”

Starswirl’s heart might actually have ached, hearing that. Physically, even. Slowly, he set down his tea cup, and sighed.

“No, you’re not that pony,” he said. Then, with deliberate care, he added, “But you both have… let’s call it baggage. With one another. You and Trixie are two sides of the same bit. You’re both highly competitive, obsessive, and brilliant ponies in your own ways.

“And yet…” Starswirl tilted his head to one side, eyes closed. “… you’re also both quite aware of your flaws. The ones you let others see, and the ones you only see in each other.”

Twilight said nothing, at first. She listened to Starswirl’s words, at least by the way her ears perked towards him, but she seemed content to just do that.

Then, with a soft, perhaps sorrowful smile, she said, “I suppose… we’ve always envied each other, in some way. I always did admire her passion. Her ability to get up on that stage and… be a star.”

She frowned.

“Trixie never… she never made too much of a fuss about our general upbringings…”

Starswirl shook his head again, and for the first time, Twilight’s eyes were drawn more towards the bells dangling from the brim of his hat.

“I don’t think Trixie thinks much of that,” he said. “Sure, the castle thing comes up once in a while. But your… privilege, let’s call it, has never come up. I honestly think she considers her time living on the road a source of personal strength.”

Twilight’s eyes began to roam again, falling across tiny cracks and stains and a million other tiny details perfectly rendered by the spell.

“Where are we, anyway? You said this was a memory?”

“A log cabin in the Unicorn Ranges,” Starswirl said, giving the room they were in his own wistful glance. “Or, well. It was called the Ambrosian Range back when I first captured this memory. Flash Magnus, Stygian, Rockhoof, his blood-brother Ash Mane…”

“Who?”

“Long story,” Starswirl said with another ghost of a smile, “let us just say that Discord tended to pop up in odd places over the centuries. Got along famously with Rockhoof back then. Always said he was playing things ‘low-key’. Whatever that meant...”

He laughed at a private memory, just then. An image of ‘Ash Mane’ cutting off Rockhoof’s beard and losing his shovel in a game of dice to those horse-giants flashed through his mind.

Good times. Good… insane times.

“Anyway,” he carried on again in a business-like tone, “they and I wintered up in those ranges once. A sort of ‘Colt’s night out’ that went very, very badly wrong. We were snowed in the whole season up there.”

A throaty chuckle escaped Starswirl’s lips.

“By the time we got back, Somnambula had a huge festival set up to welcome us home!” He laughed some more, before calming himself with another deep drink of his tea. “I’m told Winter Wrap-Up in Vanhoover still involves getting the oldest pony in town to dress up as ‘Cinder Claws’ and come down from the mountains with presents for the good little foals…”

He smiled again, more warm memories flooding back to the old stallion.

“I proposed to Trixie, in this cabin,” he said, suddenly.

For a moment, the wind and the flames could have been totally silent. A trick of memory, perhaps. That was all it was.

“Starswirl?”

He raised his eyes to the Princess again. There was concern, looking back at him through her own.

“I have a feeling I know what you’re about to ask, Princess,” Starswirl said in a stiff, formal tone. “I’m not sure I’ll like giving you that answer, however.”

Twilight licked her lips, and leaned forward.

“Starswirl… why does nopony know about Harmonic Magic?”

Starswirl sighed, and sagged his shoulders. It was precisely the question he’d known she’d ask. Not since this project began, but before. Back when he first saw her take the throne of Equestria, and fulfill all his hopes and dreams for the land he’d loved.

Due to his temporal manipulations, dimensional shenanigans, and a few other mystical tricks, he had centuries, relatively, to come up with a response.

And as usual, I waited too long.

“You should have been told,” he said after a long, uncomfortable silence. “But I left explicit instructions that Harmonic Magic should be forever purged from the collective memory of the world.”

“But why?” Twilight gasped. “It’s… it’s so useful! I only learned about it today, and I’ve already got a huge checklist of possible applications!”

She stood up, suddenly, and began to pace around the memory-cabin. Her eyes were no longer focusing on the fabulous illusion, but instead seemed – to Starswirl at least – to be back in her study, flashing left and right as she read over whatever notes on the subject she’d already made in her mind.

“If I knew the right notes and musical sequences for it, I could bypass Hindstein’s Limit of Transfigurations! Free, easy transformation magic to anypony who wanted it!”

Starswirl smirked, despite himself. “Well, Clover beat you to that by a few centuries…”

Twilight spun around. “Think of all the advancements in metallurgy! In our understanding of physics! Room temperature magic Superconductors! Mass-teleportation networks! Tribe-changing spells! Imagine how many diseases…”

She frowned, and stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth. Starswirl wondered, for a moment, if something had happened… but soon recognized the look of Twilight’s ‘panic-pondering’ or ‘calculating-worry’ face.

“I could cure cancer,” she whispered. “I could cure… everything! Near-sightedness, far-sightedness, halitosis…”

Starswirl sipped his tea, again. He set it down, and watched as Twilight’s contemplations worked themselves out behind her eyes. She was practically vibrating with academic zeal, to the point where it made the old wizard wonder if it was possible for the rug beneath Twilight to combust from the friction.

Then… she paused. Her eyes unfocused, and began to stare past the illusory walls around her into another realm.

“I could… cause cancer…” she whispered, and began to slowly sink back into her chair.

“Ah,” said Starswirl, his smile a sad, knowing one. He closed his eyes, and nodded.

“You see, then…”

“No.”

Starswirl blinked. He furrowed his brow, and asked, “No?”

“No,” Princess Twilight repeated with a shake of her head. “I know what you’re getting at, Starswirl. But… I can’t bring myself to believe that.”

“Believe what?” he snorted. “The plain fact that Harmonic Magic is too powerful, too versatile to allow into the hooves of anycreature who might abuse it?”

Twilight drew herself up again, and gazed down upon her friend. “Safeguards can be made. Courses and lessons on proper use of the magic can be created.

“But I cannot allow something so beneficial to ponykind be allowed to wallow in obscurity,” she said, raw passion seeping into her tone. “I have to believe that creatures are better than what you think of them. I just have to. It’s the responsibility I took on as Princess of Equestria.”

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with here,” Starswirl snarled – actually snarled – and took an angry slurp of tea, only to find his cup finally empty. With a scowl on his brow, he added, “All it would take is one more Grogar to bring your whole system crashing down around you. And Grogar was restrained in his use of Harmony.”

“The Father of Monsters?” Twilight asked, incredulous.

“He could have sung a song to send the continent to the sea floor, if he wanted,” Starswirl said with a dark growl in his throat. Almost as dark as the cabin itself, as the fire began to burn down low. “He was a conqueror, not a reckless destroyer. Of course, he wouldn’t have done it. But that doesn’t mean somecreature out there wouldn’t, just for kicks.”

Twilight huffed, “You’re a cynic.”

“And you are naïve,” Starswirl snapped back, hoof stabbing the air before him.

The crackling fire sagged, and began to crumble into itself. Ash and smoke kicked up with a sharp rush of wind, silencing and darkening the cabin instantly.

And then, it wasn’t.

The memory reset, it seemed. Everything was as it had been when Starswirl first cast the spell. The fire burned bright in the hearth. The wind lightly rattled the windows. Light and life filled the tiny wooden cabin.

Only, this time, Twilight and Starswirl were glaring at one another across a small tea set, instead of marveling at the wonders of magic together.

“How?” Twilight asked.

Starswirl tilted his head to one side, quizzically. “How did I bury it?”

“How did you become… this?”

His scowl vanished. The old stallion’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, and his jaw slackened. He blinked, once and then twice.

And then, as before, he slowly but surely began to deflate before Twilight’s eyes. He sank down into his seat, and let the years hang off of him like cobwebs made of iron, dragging him even lower than that.

He was sure the look of him shocked Twilight.

Good.

She needs to be shocked. To her senses, if nothing else.

“Trixie,” he whispered, in answer.

“Trixie?” asked Twilight, her glare softening as Starswirl’s lost its luster. “What do you mean, Trixie?”

“Rather,” Starswirl said with a great, heaving sigh, “it was the lack of Trixie. Her absence. An abeyance I thought permanent.”

He looked into the fireplace, unblinking.

“I never told you this, Princess… but I had a memory charm placed on me, after I sent away Trixie’s journal.”

Twilight flinched, and grimaced. “You… erased…?”

“No!” Starswirl said, briefly straightening his form again, before the shadows drew long across his face. “No. I just chose to lock away the memory of her. It hurt too much, by then. And I had Celestia, Luna, and Clover to look after. I couldn’t be tinkering with time spells or that Cutie Mark thing any longer.”

He took another deep breath.

“And… it helped. I stopped thinking about her every day. Stopped wondering if she would be proud of what I’d done with her lessons. And… maybe I also forgot the most important lessons she gave me, in the process of forgetting.”

Silence, again, hung over the two. Princess Twilight watched her friend stare into the fire. She said nothing to break his concentration on the memory of a fire that burned down one winter night a thousand years ago.

But though that memory was eternal, the night would not be.

And she still had her questions.

“What did you do?”

He said nothing, still.

With more force, Twilight pressed on.

“Starswirl. You said you would bring about the Equestria that Trixie came from, at all cost. What did you do?”

Starswirl closed his eyes, and sighed.

“I won.”

His magic was steady, as it lit up his horn and grasped hold of one of the other bells lining the brim of his hat. It came off easily. And he placed it in the frog of one hoof.

Then, he glanced up at a different bell.

“Harmonic Magic has… interesting rules and limitations, if you didn’t figure them out by now.” He gave a quick chin-tilt to the bell still attached to his hat. “Spells worked in musical notation are quirky, and useful in odd situations. But if you have the raw power for it, you can make them permanent… so long as you have an object to bind the spell to.

“Preferably…” He hummed, softly to himself. It was at a C flat, which caused the bell he was looking at to vibrate and hum in sympathy with him, to Twilight’s startled expression. “… something that can carry a tune. This one, for instance, is the bell I wove my aging spell into. It’s because of this that I will outlive my wife by… oh, centuries, at least.”

“Y-you can’t just… turn it off?” Twilight asked in a quiet, hushed voice. Whether academic in nature, Starswirl couldn’t say. And he couldn’t care less, to be honest.

This wasn’t a real lesson. Not that way.

“The spell echoes, you see?” he continued, eyes flitting to another bell. “That’s how Harmonic Magic remains so potent for so long. Its echoes never die, and so the spells cast are immensely difficult to undo or counter.

“Took you how many years to actually destroy Grogar’s Bewitching Bell?” he asked, briefly glancing back towards the Princess. “It took little Anarchy, possessed of all Discord’s chaotic might. And even now, I would bet good money on that scrap of metal still holding a fragment of its original song.”

He licked his lips, and began pouring another cup of… well, cold water, by this point. But it was appreciated by his dry mouth, nonetheless.

I knew I’d have to confess one day…

Starswirl noted that Twilight’s eyes hadn’t left the bell in his hoof.

“This one,” he said, pointing his eyes back up to the brim of his hat, “by the way, was used to create the first of my dimensional portals. If something ever happens to one of your Mirrors into the human world, I suppose you should know I can restore them with this.”

Twilight – eyes still on his hoof – asked, “Do they all have a harmonic spell?”

“Most, yes,” Starswirl answered easily. Then, pointing to another, he said, “This one, for instance, shields me from effects like Tirek’s magical draining powers.”

“But the last time he attacked us, didn’t he…?”

“I didn’t make the darn thing till after your coronation,” Starswirl said, brusquely cutting the Princess off. “It shouldn’t surprise you that even I am not perfect…”

He let out a frustrated snort.

“No… no I am not,” he said again, with finality.

Starswirl’s whole body tensed up. The shadows deepened across the cracks and lines in his face, and his eyes began to gleam with frosted fury long-suppressed.

“I spent… centuries, really, watching the ponies of this land waste every opportunity to unite as they had under Gusty,” he hissed, low and quiet. “I told them, time and time again, that they would be better off working together, in friendship. But did they listen?”

He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he lifted the little bell in his hoof, and glared at it.

“Of course not!” he snarled, and spat. “King Copper never saw an earth pony he didn’t want to toss into the dungeons for daring to muddy his presence. And General Warhawk kept corralling the pigeon population over Canterlot whenever the unicorns planned an outdoor event!”

“Famous unicorn, famous pegasus…” Twilight half-whispered as she made her own mental checklists.

“And before Rockhoof’s time,” Starswirl pressed on with a mirthless laugh, “his own grandfather, Wooden Eye, would lead his viking raids all the way to Cloudsdale!”

Twilight blinked.

“How did they…?”

“King Copper’s unicorn mages would levitate their longships up to the sky,” Starswirl said. “Sometimes for a fee, but often just because it meant another black eye for Warhawk. And it was the same every generation…”

Starswirl rolled his eyes at the memory. Earth pony ships on fire off the shoulder of Mount Onion. Watching magic beams glitter in the dark near the Ten-Horse Gate. All those moments lost in time, like tears in rain, and yet they still boiled his blood to think about.

“Oh yes,” he groaned. “The three tribes could work together, but only to prank or oppress one of their own! I swear, it got so bad that…”

He clenched his jaw, and growled.

His glare grew darker, even as his bright silver magic took hold of the unnamed bell in his hoof.

“You want to know what I did, Twilight Sparkle?” he hissed as the bell rose into the air. “I finally understood what Trixie told me. The one lesson I truly remembered from her, that I hadn’t buried with my grief!

“Good things don’t happen to good ponies!” Starswirl gave a short, pitiless laugh. “Lie, cheat, steal… whatever it takes.”

Something shifted in Twilight’s expression. The curiosity, the worry, and the fear that had been in the crease of her brow, and the downward curve of her lips stiffened. It grew, slowly, into a grimace.

And then, a glare. Not a furious one, but a glare that spoke of the intensity of its wearer’s heart.

“Starswirl,” she said again. “What did you do?”

Starswirl roared, lightning flashing in his eyes, “I realized that the only time ponies ever worked together, it was against a common foe! Grogar had provided that, but even he wasn’t enough.

“So… I decided to make my own Monsters…”

He lifted the bell into the air, and pursed his lips.

Twilight tensed, expecting another note. Something deep and rumbling. Or a high, melodic note that would hang in the very rafters of the library.

Something.

Anything.

But it was nothing like before.

Starswirl let out a piercing, blood-freezing whistle as shrill and as wretched a sound as when last Twilight Sparkle had heard that cry.

The illusion collapsed. Wood beams and warm fire fell away. Biting white fluorescent light fell upon Twilight and Starswirl as the tea set rattled in place.

But the winter chill, beyond the memory-cabin’s windows, remained.

As did its masters.

Twilight had never been so close to them. She never realized how unspeakably tall, and wraith-like the Windigos truly were. Those malevolent spirits, of which she could see three of them, swept into the library, their shrill whinnies shaking the bookshelves, and rattling the light bulbs in their sockets. Black ice spread like spider webs across every surface in the room.

There was no way to hear the cries of anguish that went up all across the palace at that hell-raising sound, but Twilight knew they existed. All her little ponies past a certain age remembered their hoary whinnies.

The Windigos flowed like water, like sheets of ice and hail. They galloped through the room, wrapping their way around the Princess, shrieking as they rode. Their hungry maws snapped at her, vying for a bite of real, warm pony flesh.

Twilight Sparkle said nothing. She did not flinch at their appearance, nor their strikes. She kept her eyes focused on the more horrible sight, to her.

For Starswirl still stood amidst the blizzard and the wind, beard and mane whipping about him like a mad captain riding the prow of his ship through a storm. Ice streamed from his eyes where his tears had caught, mid-stream, and his teeth gnashed like an animal possessed.

Finally, Twilight stood. The nearest Windigo flailed, and fled from her as she almost grazed its form with an outstretched wing.

“Anathema!” one cried, its eyes blazing with hated fury.

But that fury did not aid them. As Twilight took a step forward, the remaining Windigos quailed, and fled from her, as a wisp of smoke from a full force gale wind. Their haunting cries echoed into the distance as they vanished, fading as swiftly as the ice upon the bookshelves and the floors.

Twilight did not seem to notice the bright purple flame exuding from her, at that moment. Or, if she did, she paid the Fire of Friendship no heed as she completed her short journey from one chair towards the other.

Starswirl’s bell fell from his grasp, only to be caught in a soft purple aura. The heat coming off the Princess melted the frost and ice on his coat, his cape, and his face and beard, leaving Starswirl a bitter, cold, damp mess.

As the Windigos disappeared, his breathing came on harder than before. If it were not for the soft, enveloping embrace of purple wings, he would have broken down onto the floor, and let his tears flow free there.

Once he’d calmed down, Starswirl seemingly sank back into himself. A light had gone out in his eyes, and he was little more than the old stallion Twilight had seen in Trixie’s hospital room.

He was a bit more talkative, Twilight found, but much the same. There was no love of life in him now.

“Of course, Clever knew,” he said, answering her questions later into the evening. He still sat in the same chair as before, but with Twilight sitting next to him on a divan she’d procured from elsewhere in the palace, and with the heavy artificial lighting replaced by a suite of candles similarly summoned by the Princess. “He… she helped me design the Windigos.”

Twilight nodded, slowly.

“So, Hearth’s Warming was… a lie?” she asked, her voice sounding far more level than she currently felt. “Equestria was founded on a lie?”

“It wasn’t a lie,” Starswirl sighed and crossed his hooves clumsily. “A creative truth, perhaps. But not a lie…”

“There was no real danger!” Twilight snapped back. “You and Clever engineered the whole thing!”

Starswirl shook his head, slowly. “Not at all. If Clever didn’t succeed in making friends with the ponies who’d go on to be in that insipid yearly play, then Equestria really would have been consumed in ice.”

Twilight squeezed her eyes shut, and held her breath a moment. When she could let it out without screaming, she said, “You… created the Windigos.”

“Created. Not the same as ‘controlled’, now is it?”

He coughed, deep in his throat. A tawny-colored wing handed him a bottle of water, which he took thankfully.

“Thank you, Miss Yearling.”

Daring nodded once, then silently retreated from the little alcove where Twilight had decided to hold her little interrogation-therapy session. No doubt, she’d stay close enough to keep notes on whatever transpired next. Twilight didn’t feel right keeping everything spoken here a secret, even if she would have to ban… something.

What that something was, she didn’t know yet.

There had been a lot of terrible somethings spoken thus far.

“You… could have destroyed everything,” Twilight said, finally. She shook her head slowly at the terrible, paradox-laden thoughts that came to her. “No safeguards? No backup plan?”

“If the ponies failed to become united,” said Starswirl, “then they would prove unworthy of the future Trixie came from. But, since she’d already come back from the future, I had a hunch it would all work out.

“Predestination is a fine thing, when it works in your favor,” he added with a faded smile.

“Still a lie,” said Twilight, glumly. “Even Trixie said you shouldn’t lie about important things.”

Starswirl frowned, and said, “For what it’s worth, Clover agreed with you. She spent the whole night of Hearth’s Warming trying to make friends with the others, but her insistent ways turned the others off her approaches. She told me that, when the ice encroached at last, she gave up trying to make friends and… just made friends.”

He smiled.

“I suppose that was the very first friendship lesson, now that I think about it. I just wish she’d delivered it as a letter, instead of an angry speech after the fact…”

“And all this because of Trixie?”

“For Trixie,” Starswirl corrected. “And Equestria, in general.”

“You created the Windigos…”

“And I sleep well at night, thank you,” Starswirl finished with a half-hearted huff. “And the bed I sleep in lies in the magical land of Equestria… paradise.”

“No one ever accused you of being humble, did they?”

“Not once.”

The Princess and the wizard sat in silence, for a moment.

Starswirl cleared his throat. “I must admit, you’re taking this very well.”

“I’m not,” said Twilight, one eye twitching ever so slightly. “I’ve just learned to… compartmentalize these things.”

Starswirl nodded, and sipped his water.

“How did you keep the secret?” Twilight eventually asked.

The old stallion shrugged.

“It was mostly Clever, honestly. After I got out of Limbo, I went back to the Castle of the Two Sisters and checked out Clover’s secret study.”

“I’ve been over every inch of that castle,” Twilight grumbled, and raised a curious eyebrow. “Where was it?”

“You needed Harmonic Magic to get there,” Starswirl explained. “Hit the right sequence of notes on the grand organ in the basement, and it will open a portal to their secret study. Quite a clever use of…”

He paused. Even in his borderline fugue state, Starswirl could still manage a frown at the look Twilight gave him.

“Fine. I’ll tell you how to get in later,” he chuckled weakly, and paused to allow the Princess to squee appropriately. “Should have guessed… anyway. Clover left a journal behind. I’ll also get you their notes, since you and Yearling will probably want to—”

“Yes!”

Starswirl tilted one ear in the direction of Daring’s victorious shout, and listened for several seconds as her husband scrambled to get the mad researcher back under control.

He continued.

“Clover had her own apprentice. An earth pony mage by the name of Memento Melody. Kind filly, as I recall. A bit… exuberant, but I had plans to mellow her out somewhat before fully hoofing her over to Clover for training.”

“What happened?” asked Twilight, sipping at her own water.

“Stygian,” Starswirl sighed. “One of the consequences of losing my memories of Trixie was forgetting what she’d told me about friendship. And forgiving others. Or even listening to their side of… let’s just say that I had to take a very long vacation just at that moment.

“Clover and Memory continued using Harmonics, even after all my warnings.” He shook his head ruefully, and said, “Clover wrote that they created a deliberately imperfect spell by trapping a memory-stealing charm inside a stone, so that the memories it took would be destroyed, instead of trapped forever…”

Twilight facehoofed. “Oh, good grief!”

He nodded. “Yes, I did notice the similarities between Wallflower Blush’s escapade and Memento Melody’s. I suppose the tale of her and Clover’s falling out took on a mythic quality in the intervening centuries.”

“So, they used the Memory Stone to erase everycreatures’ memory of Harmonic Magic,” Twilight said, tapping her chin with a hoof as she considered this new information. “But that couldn’t be it. After over a thousand years, somecreature would have had to rediscover it!”

“Indeed,” Starswirl agreed with a nod. “That’s why Clover eventually found another student. An ancestor of Trixie’s, actually. Some chap by the name of Night Song. And she taught him enough Harmonic Magic to recognize and then neutralize it.

“As far as I can tell, somepony nearest to the Princesses has always kept up the tradition,” he said with another shrug. “A nameless line of ponies charged with keeping the secret, and weaponizing the power of Celestia’s trust and their own official offices to quash any resurgence of the knowledge. I believe Celestia eventually found out… but I suppose the continued secrecy would be a good sign that she agrees with us, in principle.”

“To maintain that sort of control,” Twilight groaned, “it would have to be somepony close… very close to Celestia. One of her aides, or secr…”

Her eyes widened. The Princess turned back towards Starswirl, and whispered, “Would… Do you think Spike would have kept this from me? If he knew?”

Starswirl said nothing. He was just staring down into the bottle of water at his hooves. Slowly, he let out a sigh.

“I don’t know,” he said. “If any royal advisor would have told their Princess the truth, it would be him…”

Then, his eyes winced.

“But now that you know… what will you do with that knowledge?”

Twilight leaned back into her seat, and tilted her head up in thought. She hummed, quietly to herself.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t believe in hiding something like this. Knowledge should be used to expand our understanding of the world. Who am I to stifle that?”

“The Princess of Equestria,” Starswirl said with finality.

Twilight said nothing to that.

He was right, after all.

“Your Majesty?” Starswirl asked. “If I may ask, Celeste mentioned that you… know a spell that can ascend a pony to alicornhood.”

Twilight bit her tongue, if only to prevent herself from immediately cursing her student’s glib tongue. She’d have to do something about that, later.

“I do,” she said, slowly. “Sunset’s ascension was due to a spell cast on her by Midnight Sparkle, back…”

“No explanation is necessary,” Starswirl said quickly, one hoof held up for silence. “In fact… I approve.”

“You... approve?”

“Yes.”

Twilight blinked.

“Are you…?”

Starswirl sighed again, and let his ears droop as though he’d been holding them up through sheer effort all this time. “As much as I… well. I don’t especially approve of handing out such power to anycreature under any circumstances. Nopony has that right. As much as…”

He paused. There was another moment of near-silence between the two as Starswirl took a deep breath, and steadied himself.

“I’m a bit of an expert in the abuse of power,” he whispered. “So… I understand. I really do.”

Then, leaning back, he added, “Please let Miss Yearling know I am available for… a few days, if she requires me to help in her research. But it is late…”

Nodding, Twilight stood. “Of course. It’s been… a day, hasn’t it? Should really let this one end and… I guess try to make a better one tomorrow.”

“Indeed,” the old wizard chuckled. “Indeed… though, a rather depressing thought occurs.”

Twilight frowned, not particularly wanting to deal with another such dark or dreary thought… but she knew her friend needed to say it, whatever it was.

She stood, patiently, in silence. And she waited.

After a few moments, she wished she hadn’t just tucked Starswirl into bed already.

“If I did all that I did,” he said, solemnly, a single tear running down his cheek, “all because I’d lost my Trixie… then what will you do with me once she’s gone?

“I fear you cannot trust me.”

It was early morning by the time Twilight reached her office. Luckily, in her long, quiet walk through the entire palace complex over the last few hours, she’d not forgotten her duty to the heavenly spheres, and having just sent the moon away, called in the sun’s light to awaken her little ponies and creatures everywhere.

But the sun was not so shining to her this morning. It was probably the sleep-deprivation, and having thought too long and too hard about… a billion different things, to be quite honest… but there was something off about today.

Besides the fact that Hearth’s Warming is ruined for me from now on…

“Hey! Twi!”

She stopped, mere feet from her office door, and turned around.

Spike was sprinting down the hall towards her, a heavy folder in one claw and what looked like a Princess-sized cup of black coffee in the other.

Okay… maybe today will be an improvement…

“I heard you were up all night talking to Starswirl,” he said, once Twilight had drained the top layer of caffeinated goodness from her drink. “Uh, some of the guards are asking why you blasted the sound of a Windigo through the palace. I’ve already got a press briefing planned for this afternoon, so you can address that.

“Uh… what did happen, by the way?”

“Spike?” Twilight asked, not having heard her advisor and little brother in the slightest. “Would you… keep something from me?”

The dragon blinked.

“What?”

Twilight sipped her coffee, then asked again. “Would you keep something a secret from me? If it was important? Or if you thought I shouldn’t know?”

“I… where’s this coming from?” Spike asked, a deep frown crossing his face. “You know I tell you everything, right?”

Twilight nodded, slowly.

“Sure, right. Of course,” she said, tone non-committal.

Then, she asked, “So, if I were to ask if Raven Inkwell, or Kibitz, or any of Celestia’s old advisors told you about something called Harmonic Magic…?”

“Harmonawhatta?” Spike asked, blinking rapidly. “Twilight, you need a nap. Or a vacation. Or… something! You’re getting weird on me again.”

A bark of laughter ripped itself out of Twilight’s mouth before she could stop it. Then, smiling chagrined, she continued to giggle.

Spike didn’t move, though he was starting to reach into his satchel for a quill and paper. Probably to send to one of the other Princesses to let them know a Lesson Zero was in progress, when Twilight stayed his claw with her hoof.

“I’m sorry, Spike,” she chuckled. “I… I wasn’t thinking. Starswirl and I talked about all sorts of things, and… and I’m sorry. I trust you when you say you don’t know anything about this.”

He smiled back, though still confused. “Yeah? You sure you’re okay…?”

“A nap is all I need right now,” she said with a shake of her head. “Just… move things around to buy me an hour or two? Maybe three? Some heavy stuff came up today.”

“Last night.”

“Right, last night.”

Spike nodded, and pulled a fresh schedule right out of his satchel with aplomb.

“Alright, so… let’s move that back there, and push the School announcement to Thursday, and… maybe move up the… yeah! That could work!”

He continued to roll on, shuffling meetings and speeches and reviews about like an administrative whirlwind, even as Twilight began making her way back to her rooms. And her bed. Her nice, warm, uncomplicated bed.

But, as Spike’s voice began to trail off into the distance, Twilight knew she wouldn’t be getting any sleep today. Because the older voice took that opportunity to slip back into her mind.

The voice she’d been pushing away all night, in the hopes that she wouldn’t have to deal with it at all.

“… what will you do with me once she’s gone?”

Author's Note

I find myself quite enjoying writing Caballeron and Daring as a couple. They check so many fun little boxes as a couple, and it's exciting to see them play off one another.

But yeah... Windigos. That's... yeah. Do you think what Starswirl did was justified?

Do Zebras Dream of Stripy Sheep?

Right. Where was I?

So, Journal. I told a fib. While it is true that Trixie spent about two weeks tied down to a bed, she didn’t quite spend all of it tied down. Not at first.

No, first I spent a day laying about and napping. Then, a day talking to Joyous Guard and Melody Song.

And then, on the third day, I made my escape!

Trixie doesn’t like hospitals. Never have, never will. And I have much experience breaking into and out of such places, which I will add are built like evil, antiseptic dungeons. Fortresses, more like. And this place, the inn, was beginning to feel very hospital to me. Eating, sleeping, and not doing a single other thing whenever there wasn’t somepony else to take my mind off it.

That was not The Great and Powerful way I wanted to live, Journal. I may sometimes come across differently, but when Trixie is pampered and served by others, it is at her own request! At least then, I could take a walk or something.

So that’s what I decided to do.

Escaping the ropes was a non-issue. Sure, Swirly learned how to tie knots from me, and he’d used those skills well, but I hadn’t taught him everything. I studied all the tricks of the Great Hoofdini, and I’d read up on escape techniques developed by the famous Gentlestallion thief, Arson Loose Pin.

All I had to do was pull all of my limbs out of their sockets, and I would have enough slack in the ropes to escape!

No problem!

A piece of cake!

Trixie is lying, it hurt like TARTARUS!

Three things:

One: OW.

Two: Trixie’s obvious dislike for hospitals definitely stems from foalhood trauma. I’ve mentioned before that she never manages to stay in a hospital no matter what’s happened to her, and it may just be because of all the time she spent in them visiting her mother before the end. Records from Golden Hour Memorial indicate she spent more time there than home or school. Celestia made special dispensations, but there’s only so much you can miss before it starts to drag.

And three: Arson Loose Pin is a legendary figure in the adventurer community. The very original Gentlestallion Thief, he – or rather, his author/public persona LeFlank – pioneered the field of disguises. From makeup to acting, he could transform himself into anypony he wished, and he used that to get into big, high society functions where he could rob everypony blind. He never stole from somepony who couldn’t afford it, or who didn’t have a comeuppance deserved. Rob from the rich, and give to the poor, you know?

Yes, it does seem like every writer out there is secretly their own best character. The irony isn’t lost on me.

Now, his grandfoal, Loose Pin the Third? That colt needs to get his teeth knocked in. He’s an actual criminal, and not like Cabbie used to be. A real bad horse, that one. Like, could I get you to imprison him in a random celestial body when we’re done here? It’d be a public service.

Dear Princess Twilight Sparkle;

This is Carmare Sandineighgo. So sorry to bother you, but if my mom asks you to send my coltfriend to the moon or something? Please don’t. It will mean a lot of paperwork for you, and about a week’s worth of work for me to break him out again.

No. I’m not exaggerating. Love your work, btw! Let me know if you need something burgled in the name of Friendship or something!

Luv, C.S.

Trixie had to bite down on one of the ropes to keep from screaming too loudly. I was sure Blossom and Snuzzle would run right into the room at any moment, but it would seem luck was on my side. Nopony came to help or hinder me.

So, after disassembling myself, and then reassembling myself, Trixie was ready to take on the city! To paint the town ~~red~~ a lovely shade of azure!

Problem was, getting out of the inn. I first tried the main door to the room, and quickly found there was something wrong. Specifically, there was a lot more tension on the doorhandle than I remembered. I’d done enough work with Grey Prancer to know when somepony had a trap rigged up, so I knew the signs.

Blossom had been in the army. And Snuzzle had been running a business in the bad part of town for decades.

Sure enough, once I’d managed to wedge a little mirror (from the washbasin) under the door, I could just make out the sight of a crossbow with its latch connected by a length of string to the handle.

Gusty or Swirly must’ve said something, I figured. I’d mentioned some stuff about hospitals before, so they probably got an idea I might try this.

Starswirl: Actually, it was the way she kept twitching and gnawing at the ropes when she thought we weren’t looking. Wish we’d acted a bit earlier, now. You can’t imagine how upset I was when I got back to the room for lunch with a new padlock, and found she’d flown the coop.

The crossbow had a primitive-looking net-canister slotted into it instead of a bolt, but that was still nothing to sniff at! They were trying to capture me!

Nopony captures TRIXIE LULAMOON!!!

Oof, reading that back, Journal? Irony. Super Irony.

Unfortunately, crossbows in this day and age didn’t have models, so I couldn’t tell where this one’s point of failure might be. No way to disarm it without the darn thing loosing at me.

For anypony in the future reading this, Trixie recommends Clash Kickoff’s brand of crossbows for your self-and-home defense needs. You can jam up one of Hackle and Coach’s garbage crossbows with some string, chewed bubblegum, and a silver half-bit.

It’s a little worrying how much Trixie knows about home defense and how to thwart it. I mean, I know this stuff too, but that’s because of my husband’s former career.

I’m starting to wonder (she says sarcastically) if Grey Prancer was a good influence on Trixie, after all.

Well, if life puts a crossbow in your face, it just means there’s a window waiting for you.

Trixie doesn’t know where she was going with that. Suffice to say, it took no effort at all for me to climb out the window and reach the streets of Gallopoli.

Gallopoli. It was a nice town, really. ~~You know, before I killed~~

Stop thinking about that, Trixie. Tell Melody in the morning. Finishing this is important.

The place was just packed with creatures. Some were, sure, Grogar’s dragons and Troggles and centaurs and satyrs and other stuff. But there were also a lot more creatures living there, trading and living and all that good stuff, than I ever thought. It’s more creature-friendly than modern Equestria! Well, not really. About as diverse, if not as nice to each other, more like.

Kind of makes me wonder what happened between ~~then and now~~ now and then. If future Equestria ended up being a pony-only place, why were there so many non-ponies here in the past?

Oh. And what about Hearth’s Warming? Now that Trixie thinks about it, did the part about ponies coming here from a distant country not happen? Or did it, and we all forgot we came from here first?

Bah! Stop distracting me, Journal! Trixie needs to finish her recollecting! Despite how much of it is left to do!

Anyway, Trixie had a few silvers in her mane, and I was hoping to grab some nice lunch or a souvenir somewhere. Didn’t want to stay in town too long, but I always get something like a postcard, or a little Liberty Statue, or a bobblehead whenever I travel. Heck, part of the reason I accepted Starlight’s invitation to stay in Twilight’s Castle during the school year was so I could dump all my souvenirs into the basement.

Fun Fact:

According to Luster Dawn, the Friendship Castle appears to spawn little knick-knacks and souvenirs for visitors using magic. This has been locally attributed to the Tree of Harmony sharing cultural touchstones with visitors, in an obvious display of camaraderie and friendship.

Luster tells me she thinks the Spirit of Harmony is just trying to offload Trixie’s crap onto anycreature who’ll take it.

Trixie would only ever eat meat as a desperate, last-ditch move to avoid starving, but even I had to admit the griffon shawarma stands smelled delightful. There were also some tasty looking Yak hayballs, a soup stand run by a dragon who looked an awful lot like guy-Smolder-but-blue and used his own breath to keep the food cooking, and even a Llama selling papas a la huancaina!

Journal, you don’t know good food until you get it from a Llama. Those creatures know what they’re doing with potatoes, lemme tell you.

But there was a small problem with that plan. Well, two problems.

Problem one was, Swirly was performing.

Obviously, the performing part wasn’t a problem, Journal. Don’t be mean. In fact, Swirly was doing very well. No, the problem was that Trixie didn’t want to get caught five minutes into her break for freedom. And as much as that kid loves me, he wasn’t as much of a pushover as he’d been back in Hyneighria. He’d grown up, just a bit. He wouldn’t let me get away with something like this easily.

And judging by what happened after this whole mess, I guess Trixie was right to worry about getting caught.

Luckily, there was a conveniently located cloak nearby. ~~The Yak who was selling it didn’t even seem to mind~~

It was one cloak, Journal. Don’t judge me.

There was a little square in the middle of this mini Restaurant Row, and Swirly had (Trixie will admit) expertly picked out a good spot before the other vendors had squeezed him out. He even managed to snag a corner spot, ensuring maximum visibility for his act. And with my new hood up, I could watch it and see just how my apprentice was doing.

He was alright. Better than last time, at any rate. He still had that adorable charm he’d had from before, but it was obvious his lessons in hoofwork with me were paying off. It was less ‘oops did I do that’ adorable, and more ‘when this kid is grown, you’re gonna tell your grandkids about how you saw him before he was famous’.

I mean. That’s just baseline Trixie. But the fact that he could manage even ten percent of my natural ability spoke volumes about his skill. He was still Starswirl the Bearded, after all. Most famous of all wizards.

But he was still wearing that red outfit from before. So, no points.

According to Starswirl: “Every colt goes through a red-and-black phase! Is it really my fault that Trixie has preserved my time of shame for you to see? And is it really my fault that she was teaching a prodigy in the mystic arts?”

They really are made for each other, aren’t they?

Swirly did the ‘Ring’ trick alright, to begin with. He hammed up the act and got the crowd interested first, which was important. But then he scuffed the landing by not being able to take the rings apart after he’d put them together. Just once, but I’d have to talk with him about marking again. He’d clearly lost sight of the break.

His coin tricks were ~~better~~ tolerable. We’d practiced a routine on the road, but this was the first time I’d seen him perform it live. He told a little story of mine as he performed, something made up but filled with little jokes and puns. I had to modify it to work in Old Ponish, but he carried it well. He even ad-libbed a few lines.

All while flipping, spinning, and sleight-of-hoofing a whole bag full of (fake) silver bits. They’d fly up, but never come down. Spin along his hoof or the brim of his hat. Appear and disappear like magic (but only the one at the end where he vanished, leaving the coins behind in a neat little pile).

It was fine. Good enough. Trixie is secure enough in her own greatness to see that.

Starswirl’s notes in the margin: “Good enough!? Did you not notice the part where I turned a coin into a cloud of doves? Of course not. You didn’t care back then that I’d finally gotten a teleportation spell to work without turning my clothes inside out. You were a demanding teacher. Makes me wonder sometimes if I’m too soft on Clever, trying to teach him your old routine. I should get the boulders out again.”

Clever’s notes, amended to Starswirl’s: “Thanks, Trixie. Now I know why Master Starswirl tied me to a boulder and threw me down a greased pit. Even if you were some sort of Hero back in the day, if you weren’t already dead I’d like to give you a piece of my mind.”

Starswirl, today: “It wasn’t a pit. It was barely six feet. He’s just being dramatic.”

One thing I should have noticed, however, was the lack of fireworks in his act. They were easy enough to make. Heck, Swirly had made some for me during our little hike through the Everfree. It’s not hard, just proprietary-information.

I don’t think I remembered to ask him about that. At least, not before it didn’t matter anymore. I noticed his hooves were way too clean, in the evenings. Like he’d cleaned them. Which nopony in the here and now really does. So it’s obvious in hindsight that he was washing off the powders and materials before coming home.

But one cannot blame Trixie for not seeing it yet. I had not yet realized the depths of deviousness to which my apprentice could sink.

So proud of him!

Angry, now that I know what I know.

But proud.

Good show. Needs some improvement in the legwork and in transitions. Left a little too much dead air for my liking. Four outta ten. Three stars.

Whatever. It’s not like he didn’t still need me, you know?

~~Because he does.~~

He really doesn’t, actually. I mean, he is Starswirl the Bearded, right? And we’d only been working together for a month or two. We weren’t like—

He was fine.

He is fine.

Right?

Anyway. Food. Trixie’s tummy was telling her to forget the kid for now and grab something yummy and scrumptious. So far, I hadn’t seen a Burger Princess anywhere in the past, but there had to be something good in a city this big. Heck, it was a pegasus city, so every building had a second and third story, some of which were obviously flyer-only restaurants but most at least had ladders. And with so many varied types of food all around me, Trixie was spoiled for choice, and for smell.

And what heavenly smell did I ~~smell~~ perceive? Nothing but the best! Wafting over all the other smells and tastes and foods of the market, Trixie could detect the indescribable, delicious sensa—

Delicious is a description, right?

It was ramen. Like, Good ramen. The stuff with eggs and mushrooms and garlic and green onions in it? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had real Eastern unicorn food, but that smell brought back a lot of good memories. Memories of CSGU. Memories of the road.

Trixie’s luck was turning around, I thought.

Ha.

I said, HA!

I spent a long time in college, getting my degrees in Literature and Archeology. Whether it was in the halls of Pranceton University, or the cramped undergrad dorms at Cloudsdale A&M (Go Storks!), everypony lived off ramen. Cheap, calorie-rich, and it had enough salt to keep you up for a week-long study-binge. But I bet you probably know all about study-tactics, eh?

Twilight slowly raised her head up from the newest pages from Daring.

A knowing smirk came to her face, and a low, menacing chuckle bloomed in her chest.

“Amateurs,” she laughed. “You know not what powers and dark magicks I employed in my study-binges. You know nothing, Daring Do! NOTHING!”

Her cruel laughter rattled the clocks and knick-knacks spread across her office, only momentarily interrupted as the Princess’s magic hefted up the noodle bowl to her lips. She swallowed several mouthfuls of the spicy, salty broth and ramen.

It tasted good.

It tasted… like Academia…

Mistmane, despite being an eastern unicorn, has no idea what ramen is, since it’s actually a completely different style of cooking from what she’s used to. Totally different part of Equestria. Different time period by about six centuries. Well, she’s learned about it since, but I guess the stuff we consider ramen is relatively recent and inauthentic. Kind of robs it of the mystery, doesn’t it?

So, Trixie said there were two problems, didn’t she?

Swirly was one.

You’ll never guess what the other one was. Never.

Go on, guess! ~~Trixie can wait all day for—~~

Journals cannot wait. This was known to Trixie. That was a test.

So, you remember way, way back in Hyneighria? Everything that happened there? The fighting and the screaming and the fire? And the monsters chasing Swirly through the woods? The centaur, the satyr, and the manticore? The ones that I, the Great and Powerful Trixie, had to defeat using only my wits, and my cat-like reflexes?

Yeah. So.

They were enjoying a nice bowl of ramen when I walked up and bumped into the manticore’s flank.

“Hey, watch it you pony!” he snarled. The manticore stood up from his seat and towered over me. I actually forgot how they can stand on their hind legs. Made it easier, in his case, to hold up a freaking mace to smash my head in with.

Thinking fast, I pitched my voice down, and stuttered (on purpose), “Uh, n-no problem, g-good sir! I wasn’t looking for trouble…”

“Aw, leave it alone, Mark,” the Satyr – now no longer red and black, but a more normal grey and white like that Storm King’s creatures – said from his other side, and shot a one-eyed glare my way. “Ain’t worth it. Just eat your lunch.”

That was definitely different. That satyr looked like he’d had all the paint (tattoos?) stripped off him. Before, he was bright red and black, like Tirek’s colors. And I certainly didn’t remember doing anything to the guy to take out an eye, which now had an eyepatch covering.

Now that Trixie is thinking about it, the manticore, Mark, seemed a bit haggard as well. Mane not so thick. Coat not so bright. He kinda looked like he’d been trod on. The stitching on the top of his head, where I’d dropped that tree branch, I’ll take credit for, but these three were in one piece when I last saw them.

Asked Grogar about that. At first, all he said was that “Failure deserved punishment.” Which is pretty on-brand for him. After that, however, I managed to get him to elaborate.

I would not recommend doing that, in the future. Apparently there are ‘songs’ and ‘sounds’ he knows that can shatter bones and warp flesh. Or just age things into dust. Harmonic magic could make words heavy enough to break your jaw just from speaking them. Make your sight so sharp it cuts you from the inside.

He then took the last chocolate donut in the library break room, and scampered away. I hate him so much.

And then the centaur!

“Would you two shut up about ponies!?” he growled. “We been out on dis trip for months now, and I’m sick of ponies-this! Ponies-that! Ponies, ponies, ponies…!”

Woo, colt. That centaur, last I saw him, was kinda pudgy and ugly. Now, he was still really ugly, especially with a whole new set of scars and bruises covering him up, but he also looked practically starved. Loose skin hung off his bones!

The manticore rolled his eyes, and looked back at his other companion. “Jezzer? Would you quit complaining? All I’ve heard from you is complaining, and I’m sick of that.”

“Can we please just eat?” the satyr sighed. He sipped at his bowl, and added, “Seriously, we can get back to searching later. Just… lemme eat?”

“You can eat my hoof,” Mark grumbled back. “Slove, you lost yer edge? Ever since…”

“Cheese and crackers, what happened to you?” Trixie asked. Forgetting, naturally, that Trixie was trying to flee from these three monsters as fast as possible.

It’s just, they were so pathetic, you know? Like, they looked like they’d lost a fight. And not one with me, with somepony who’d really mess you up. Like ~~that hayseed~~ Applejack. Or her brother Big Mac, who almost killed me that one time. Remember?

Anyway. Stupid Trixie. Stupid mouth.

The three grew silent, and stormy. Maybe they didn’t hear me?

Apparently, not.

“My edge?” Slove the Satyr snarled, and then he picked up an axe as big as Trixie. “I’ll tell you what! When next I see that… that Trixie mare, I’m gonna show you what my edge is like.”

I swallowed.

“Not if I get her first,” said Jezzer the Centaur. He cracked his knuckles. “After what Emperor Grogar did to us for failing to catch her… I owe her plenty more in kind.”

I started walking away, slowly. Backwards. Quiet. Very.

Mark the Manticore shook his head, and set his mace down on the table, where Trixie could see the clearly agitated pony cook glaring at me for causing a ruckus.

“I just want to know how she did all that,” Mark sighed. “She… I mean, that was incredible, wasn’t it?”

I really, really should have kept walking.

Trixie is so, so stupid.

“Incredible?”

So. So. STUPID.

Mark glared at something over Trixie’s head. There wasn’t anything above me, so I tried to not move a muscle. Maybe that would help?

No such luck.

“We were tasked by the Emperor himself to capture a dangerous, evil sorceress,” he said, eyes still distant. “Dropped a whole tree on me, she did.”

I blinked.

“Did she?” I asked, knowing for a fact that I did not.

He nodded. “She did,” he said. “A terrible, evil sorceress, that one. Weren’t our fault…”

“Turned the whole forest against us, she did,” Jezzer said, nodding along with his friend. “Smoke and mist came rolling in, and before you know it, wham! Like, a hundred ponies came out of the woods!”

“They did?” I asked.

They did not, Journal. It was Trixie, all by her lonesome, that had bested these three ruffians.

You may not be aware of this, but some lesser ponies and creatures feel the need to embellish their tales of daring do. Not the writer, the stuff that happens in their lives. Their adventures.

Stories like Sparkle and the Elements of Harmony? Probably true, considering how fantastical they are in general. Nopony makes stuff like that up.

That thing your uncle swears happened to him one night in the San Palomino desert? Probably made up. Just a good story that he’s added onto so often you’d forget he wasn’t actually abducted by aliens and had all his feelings and emotions stolen—

Trixie just realized she might need to apologize to Uncle Roswell. And she might need to check in with Thorax sometime about rogue changelings in the desert.

Those were apparently not rogue changelings. A San Palomino police report states that one Mr. Roswell, a distant relation to Trixie on her father Jackpot’s side, was picked up in a state of distress and delirium a few weeks before your brother Shining’s wedding to Princess Cadance. Since he was covered in salt, no one believed his story about being abducted by “bug-ponies”. Thorax had no idea what I was talking about, when I went to ask him for a quote, but Prince Pharynx got really sweaty all of a sudden.

Anyway. Turns out (once I got to see Chrysalis herself) that her operatives did that sort of thing all the time to keep their Love stores topped up in between raids. Roswell was just one more pony sucked dry of emotion and tossed out into the desert on the Hive’s way to Canterlot.

She’s kinda cute, by the way. In a ‘used to be a tyrant’ sort of manner. But since about half of your acquaintances have the same vibe, I don’t judge. And she’s still more pleasant to talk to than Cozy Glow, somehow.

Anything they need to say to themselves, just to live with the fact that they are not quite as Great and Powerful as they claim to be.

Yup. Sad how that is with somecreatures. Sad, indeed.

Slove nodded solemnly at his friend’s words, and looked at Trixie, reminding me that I should have been running, but hadn’t.

Again. Stupid Trixie.

“And then, you’ll never believe it, she turned the whole forest into this, like, magical net!”

“Did she really?” I asked.

“Indeed, she did!” he snorted.

“And that was before she and her horde of magical ponies blasted us!” said Mark.

“How did Grogar take that?”

Slove scoffed. “How do you think? He says no pony could do all that. Like we was lying, or something!”

“Not our fault, at all,” Jezzer grunted. “Not our fault we were beat by a great and magical wizard!”

“Great and Powerful, you mean.”

“Yeah, Great and…”

I really should have just run. But, as usual, Trixie has to stick her Great and Powerful hoof directly into her own mouth. And not literally, this time. Circus tricks tend to make money.

All three monsters stopped. They went totally still, like statues, and instantly stopped eating. Then, slowly, they turned their heads and whole bodies towards me.

Trixie swallowed, and tried to disappear under her new cloak and hood.

“Well,” I said, quickly, “I should be getting out of your manes, good sirs! Keep up the good work! I’m sure you’ll catch that nasty, no-good, evil Trixie wizard someday…”

And then, as it turns out, that one yak from before? He really did mind. He minded a lot. The cloak and hood flew off of me as he grabbed hold of it and pulled the darn thing off in a single tug!

“Why pony steal from Yak!?” he bellowed in my ear. If I could see his eyes under all that hair, he would probably have been glaring at me.

That’s not tribalist, is it?

Eh, if I ever get back, I’ll apologize to Yona.

“You think it okay to take from Yak?” he continued to scream. “Yak is trying to sell real Yak fleece here! Is seller’s market! You no buy? Then guards can take you!”

All the while, Trixie was staring up at the three monsters. And they were staring back. With widening eyes, and slowly dropping jaws.

Finally, I ran.

I ran very, very fast.

And for a split second, it seemed like nocreature was following me. Unfortunately, I was wrong about that. Trixie half-turned her head, and I saw the entire ramen stand blowing up as all three monsters grabbed their gear, and bolted from their seats with all the fury of Tartarus at their heels.

Maybe something worse than Tartarus, now that Trixie thinks about it.

Oh, except the satyr, Slove. He stopped for a second to down his ramen first. Trixie can respect that. Priorities.

But then, all three were on my heels. Well, four. The Yak was chasing after them, still demanding that they take me in for theft.

I mean. It wasn’t like he was using the stupid thing. Okay, so he was using it. Trixie, however, needed it more.

To hide from her own apprentice.

Don’t judge me.

Trixie ran as fast as she could, ducking and weaving through the ponies and other creatures with all the speed of a swooping crane, and the dexterity of a very dexterous sort of animal. I flew past stands and stalls, and slid under carts. The acrobatics training Grey Prancer put me through was paying off with dividends, I thought at first.

In no time, I’d cleared a whole city block, but it wasn’t enough. Because while Trixie was racing through the street with supreme skill and speed, the four creatures chasing me were just barreling through everything and everycreature they came across. There was an unholy racket behind me as they slammed through a wagon carrying what looked like a literal ton of fine porcelain plates, and kicked over a griffon covered in one of those one-pony band kits.

It was mayhem!

And that was before I turned down the next street, and only realized a few seconds later that I’d just flown past a patrol of dragons!

Trixie is always in the wrong place and time when it comes to traffic guards.

Trixie Lulamoon currently has over fourteen-thousand bits in traffic violations and tickets on her file. But whenever I asked around, nopony in the Department of Roads and Travel seemed to know about the file, or thought it was a joke since they’d never have let something like that go for so long.

Starswirl isn’t talking. Thanks for the anti-memory charm, by the way. He tried that again. Just whistling guiltily and avoiding me for now.

Flip my life, there were over a dozen of them! Luckily, a malnourished and beaten trio of a satyr, a centaur, and a manticore aren’t the most nimble of creatures, so though I managed to slip past the obstacles before me with no problem, there was another explosion behind Trixie.

And, again. Stupid Trixie. I turned around!

I can’t believe me either, Journal.

The first couple of dragons were now underneath the trio of monstrous pursuers, and a couple more had fallen on top of them. And about six different shop and stall vendors – ponies, mostly – were coming up behind waving ladles and broken bits of wood to hopefully beat on them.

Unfortunately for Trixie, the yak was fine.

“She thief! Catch! SMASH!” he called out.

Oof. That got their attention.

Now there was Trixie racing down another street, pursued by a couple of angry shopkeepers, a half-dozen dragon-guards, one peeved yak, a centaur, a manticore, a satyr, and then another half-dozen dragon-guards.

You’d think that would be enough.

You don’t know me very well.

Two griffons swept down from the sky, just as I had turned down what I hoped would be a narrow side street, wailing with some stupid head-mounted sirens. ~~Hoof~~

Sorry, Claw-cranked sirens! They buzzed the street, which was mostly made up of laundry lines and looms, as far as I could tell. One of the griffons tried to snatch at my mane, but I was too quick for him, and dove down another side alley.

There were a lot of those, actually. Gallopoli was made of alleys, it seemed.

According to Starswirl, Gallopoli had a bit of a layering system going on, much like modern Cloudsdale. Roofs were usually just more area for griffon, dragon, and pegasi vendors, while the rest of the city below was left to sprawl into an urban jungle for the poorer earth ponies living underneath them. I’m told Trixie never saw it, but Gallopoli also had an extensive underground area because of this.

Trixie just kept changing direction, juking left and right as griffons dove down at me. But, every time they did, they’d catch on a clothesline, or I’d slip past another loom and let the stupid guards crash into those behind me.

Serpentine, that’s what they call it. Trixie perfected the technique while I was training for my knife-throwing act. Got to keep limber and dexterous when throwing sharp objects!

I couldn’t use magic, naturally, but that didn’t stop me from trying, once. Tried to focus on a simple telekinesis spell to pull some rope along behind me, once I’d run past a barrel-maker’s stall. Nearly blinded myself with the pain, so that stopped.

Oh, and I was already running out of breath. I was still broken, and burnt out from before. I had no magic, and my hooves were still messed up from the long march and all the damages I’d taken back at Ponhenge.

Trixie couldn’t keep the chase up. As I dove down another alleyway, this one made up of wood fences at the back of houses, Trixie knew she was in trouble.

Mark (the manticore) exploded through a fence just a few feet ahead of me. If he were only a foot lower, I’d be food right now.

As it so happened, somepony had tossed out a banana peel that morning, and hadn’t made sure it landed in a garbage bin (no, they don’t have those here, but still). I stepped right onto it, and immediately slipped under the charging manticore.

I don’t know how he even got ahead of me! That town was a maze!

Starswirl just told me something interesting. This has been bugging me since Springfall, actually.

Apparently, bananas were only imported to Equestria in the first century after the first Hearth’s Warming. Trixie found one banana back in that little village outside of Springfall, and a banana peel literally, by total coincidence, saved her life just now.

I bet five bits, Discord pops up again before too long.

*section lost to water damage*

… couldn’t believe this town, you know? And now it’s all gone, beca...

*section lost to water damage*

“… said you knew me,” he said, scratching his little chinny chin-chin with his one talon. “And I’ve been puzzling over that for a while now…”

“Look!” I shouted down the drifting pseudo-draconequus, “Trixie doesn’t have time for you right now! She’s being chased!”

I hopped over a dragon, and kicked off one of the griffon guards. Well, I hope it was a guard. Otherwise, I think Trixie just kicked a random griffon. Oops.

“Also, do you just have one talon now?” I asked. Or, I think I asked. I was sliding underneath another stall just before Jezzer landed on the poor pony selling seashells in a seaside port.

Discord nodded, slowly, and slipped his mutant appendage into a glove.

I still don’t know how Chaos Magic can make a glove turn into a real hoof, but whatever.

“Just in case Dad starts asking questions, you know?”

“TRIXIE DOESN’T CARE!”

And it was true, considering how many creatures were chasing me. This, however, seemed to offend the little Prince, who huffed mightily.

He flew over me, and sniffed. “Very well, I can see you’re busy. I shall return soon enough to see about this, however. And you’d better have a better explanation than ‘time travel’.

“Also, turn left up ahead,” he added, before fading away in a most un-dramatic fashion. “Should help.”

I really, really hate him, Journal. Because Trixie decided to turn left at the next street.

Which meant that I ran straight into the freaking Goose again. And Slove the satyr. And about a dozen dragons who I’d previously thought I’d given the slip. With a duck and a weave, I managed to slide under them all, and let the griffons behind me crash into them again. But that would only buy me a few seconds at most.

“How was that helping!?” I cried out in frustration.

Annoyingly, I heard him answer.

“Oh, help me, I meant. This chase scene is too much fun!”

And there it is.

So, let’s now recap.

There was Trixie, sans one of her boots.

Then that freaking trio of monsters, Mark, Jezzer, and Slove.

Then the Yak and the ramen-pony.

Then six griffons, all with magical sirens and lights.

Then, after them, a bunch of dragons. Like, a whole bunch. Over a dozen by now.

At least a whole gaggle of Troggles. Unless they travel in herds? Do they travel in herds? Maybe they’d be a drove.

And then, behind even them, the hippogriff clowns, the priests of that weird rock-god thing, and that freaky goose were all chasing poor, innocent Trixie through the streets of Gallopoli. I swear, I half-expected some diamond dogs to show up next. This town was a madhouse, I tell you. A madhouse!

Thankfully, that was when my luck changed.

As Trixie broke out into another square, she was met with a terrifying sight. A small army of pegasi, all clad in that shiny bronze armor like Flash Magnus, stood and/or flew in front of me! There were dozens of them, half holding up shields while the other half leveled crossbows and spears in my face.

There was nowhere to go. I was trapped.

Trixie slid to a halt, and almost fell directly on my flank. I let out a gasp, and tried to hold back my shock, and my fear.

I don’t know if it worked. I was really, really shocked. And really, really afraid.

This was it, I could remember thinking. It had all finally caught up to me. All the lies and the running and the other stuff besides. I’d be imprisoned, if I was lucky. More likely? I’d be gone. And Swirly would be alone with those maniacs, Gusty Flame, Melody Song, and Joyous Guard.

~~Not like that~~ hasn’t ~~basically happened, but still.~~

But then, something amazing happened, Journal.

These guards, ostensibly working for Grogar, looked right at me. Had me completely dead-to-rights. Could have done literally anything, right then.

But they looked to their commander. This white, red-maned pegasus with a face (and a build) like that Tempest pony back home, scowling up a storm right in the center of their line. And she looked back at them.

And then?

She tilted her head towards an open alleyway, and said, “Go.”

Just Go.

And Journal, I got!

Never let Trixie ever again say that police corruption never helped her out! Ha ha! Oh, if there’s one nice thing about pony tribalism, it’s that even back then, no matter how bad things got between unicorns and pegasi and earth ponies, you could always bet they’d stand together against a common enemy!

Starswirl is looking really smug right now, and I’m gonna hit him.

I leapt right to it, and dove into the narrow street that pegasus had pointed towards. And just as I did, the entire cavalcade I’d been stringing along for ten minutes now crashed into the pegasi phalanx.

It was terrible! It was frightful! The sound of crashing steel and bronze! The clash of spear, mace, cooking ladle, and hoof!

Trixie heard all about it later, after the fact. For at just that moment, I was gone. Flat out. Made like a tree and skeedaddled on out of there!

I should enter the Running of the Leaves, next time I’m back in Ponyville. I’d probably do well!

Records show Trixie joined the Running the very next year she was back. She came in fifth place, narrowly losing to Applejack, Bon Bon, and Fluttershy due to excessive – and premature – celebrating just a few feet from the finish line. Rainbow Dash also beat her, coming in first place, because Rainbow Dash is Rainbow Dash.

There’s no fascinating insight or odd occurrence here. Just a nice reminder that Trixie eventually got back. How lovely!

Trixie continued running until I couldn’t hear anything behind me.

And then I ran some more.

And a little more after that.

And at the end of that run, I collapsed onto a deserted street. I think even my mane hurt after what I’d been through. Despite all that I’d done before, what with the sun and moon and the burnout and all the rest, it was only then that I realized what was wrong with me.

No, Journal. Not that I’m too Great and Powerful for my own good. But thank you.

Everything ached. My hooves felt like cracked glass, and my legs and other walking bones felt like I got hit by a wagon. Even lying down in the dark where I thought nopony could see me, I got no relief. Just twitches and shivers up and down my muscles.

I overexerted, again. I probably pushed my recovery time back, pulling this stunt. And for what? Seeing the sights? Getting out of that ~~hospital~~

Inn.

It was basically a hotel. And I decided to run away. Again.

Trixie suspects she may have issues to work on when she gets back home.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. I was just trying to get back up on my hooves when Slove finally caught up to me.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. If I thought he looked bad before, it was way worse now. Slove was covered in bruises, cuts, burns, and bumps. One horn was now cracked along its length, and the other one had a bread knife stuck in it.

With terrible slowness, and an obvious limp, he followed me down the alleyway.

And, for the first time in a while, I was just done. There was nothing left in me. Not even enough to care what he did with that stupidly large axe he was dragging along the ground behind him.

“Well,” I remember saying, still lying in the street, “Trixie doesn’t suppose you’d care to hear her side of this, would you?”

Slove raised the axe high above his head, and just said, “No. Not really.”

“Fair is fair,” I said again, and looked around for, well, anything to get me out of this mess.

No dice. No luck.

This was finally, finally it.

Until it wasn’t!

I honestly wouldn’t blame you if you had whiplash from all that, Journal. It was that sort of a day, to be sure. Just one calamity after another.

The satyr raised his axe, and held it there for several long seconds. Maybe he was savoring the kill? Maybe he was just as tired as I was and needed a moment? Don’t know. Don’t really care, either. All Trixie knows is that one minute, he’s about to cleave her in two with that stupid thing, and in the next, he’s taking a big old blast of pink sparkly dust to the face.

For a second, I laughed. A glitter-bomb? Really? Here? Now?

And, yeah. Kinda. The blast hit Slove square in the jaw, and burst all around his stupid head. The pink smoke cloud disappeared quickly, only hanging around for a few seconds before it fell away. Must’ve been heavy stuff, remembering how the dust fell now.

Slove froze in place. And then, his eyes glazed over, and the big palooka dropped dead away!

Not actually dead, mind. The Princess-awful snore he let out was proof of that.

Trixie wasn’t surprised. But only because her luck had been swinging back and forth so hard, I had karmic whiplash by this point. So, I may not have had much of an expression on my face besides “bored surprise” as I turned around, and looked at my savior.

In the doorway of a darkened building stood a stallion. A zebra stallion, at that. He was tall, and built like an Apple (~~the big buff ones,~~ why did I need to explain that?), just one with a stripy black and white coat. Well, black, white, and blue in a few ~~spots~~ stripes. Especially around his head, where his mane was styled like some weird cross between Zecora’s mohawk, and that one weird pony who hangs out with Fluttershy. Tree Something, I think. The one with the dreads who smells like she needs to stop sitting so close to her campfire every night.

Tree Hugger, I think she means. The pseudo second in command of Zecora’s little indie village in the Everfree. Their commune actually ranks in Equestria as the twelfth largest dye and pharmaceutical supplier. All-natural products, straight from the most magical part of the country.

Caballeron loves their soap. New Sweet, they call it. Never tell him I actually like the smell too, or I’ll never hear the end of it!

The zebra smirked like a badflank from one of those trashy romance novels, and quickly galloped over to me.

Actually, speaking of flanks, he didn’t have one. A Cutie Mark, I mean. So I guess that means I win the bet with Pinkie Pie. Nice.

The bet she’s talking about was if zebras had Cutie Marks or if Zecora just had a tattoo. Pinkie says she made that bet as a joke, and was quite frustrated to lose 40 bits of “cupcake money” over it.

Zebras, for what it’s worth, don’t get Cutie Marks. Zecora’s sun symbol was self-chosen during her Naming ceremony, which from what she tells me is part of her tribe’s initiation into her profession as an alchemist, and as a member of a cult! Surprising? Yeah. Me too. Apparently the cult believed that a Night Mare would one day plunge the world into eternal night, and Zecora herself was sent to Equestria to avert her return.

I think you know how well that turned out. Suffice it to say, Zecora felt a little embarrassed about missing the Summer Sun Celebration, and decided to make a clean break with her old life once she realized Princess Luna wasn’t evil.

So. That’s why Zecora lives in the Everfree. Made a new life for herself. Awesome.

And why am I bringing this up? Oh, just you wait.

“Are you alright?” he asked me, and lent me a hoof to get back up onto my own. He had a curious accent that, quite frankly, I don’t think you can replicate in writing. So I won’t even try.

I coughed up some dirt from the street, and answered, “Better now. What was that you just used? Looked like a powder. Lotus Puff?”

Yes, Journal. Trixie knows a few bits of alchemy and the discipline’s ingredients. Grey Prancer, again, gave me a crash course, but I never was any good at it. At best, I can remember a few common ingredients and side effects. Used to take Lotus Puff for sleep apnea, actually.

The zebra shook his head. “Not now, and not here. Please, come with me!”

I noticed then that he had a small leather pouch tied around his neck. I guess that was where he got the powder. He pulled a yellow vial out of the bag, and yanked the cork free. The contents wafted out, and I could definitely smell something like lemon or lime coming out of that thing.

Trixie has been around the block enough to know what a magic potion is, Journal. And that thing reeked of magic. There was something familiar about the scent, however. It tickled the edge of my memory, but I couldn’t think what it was.

“Drink this!” he said, and really clearly considering the glass in his mouth. “It will give you back your strength for a time!”

Memory clicked then! I’d bought something almost exactly the same from Zecora only a few months back! Well, a few thousand years in the future. But a few months before even that. I went on a disastrous trip with my Bestie, Starlight, and even though it all ended well, I was dog-tired when I finally resumed my regular road trip schedule. Which included an all-nighter to Whinnyapolis.

I don’t know much about Zecora and her past, despite calling her a friend. But I do know that she makes the best stuff around if you need to stay awake for a few days straight but Pinkie Pie’s Good Stuff gives you mad gas.

Lovely image there.

What this zebra had on him wasn’t half as good as Zecora’s, but it did the trick. Right as I quaffed it, every bone in Trixie’s body vibrated. I could feel it drip down my limbs from the inside, like a live electric current jazzing me up. Even my hooves tingled as the drink cracked open my mana channels and applied a hot, soothing burn.

And then, we were off. The zebra was the one leading, but for the first time in a long while, I felt like I could have run circles around him. At the time, I probably could have done it. The streets around where we were, were all but abandoned.

Yeah, should have thought of that then. Oh well.

Nothing good ever happens in a warehouse, Journal. That’s a Grey Prancer rule right there I should have listened to. The zebra led me to a row of them down by the docks, all painted different awful colors, but Trixie wasn’t really thinking all that straight by this point. The drink had already run its course, and I was back to being run-down by all the running from before.

Oddly, the one we walked into had a small front office. Well, ‘office’. It was more like a little pawnshop, with a bunch of display cases between the owner and his ~~marks~~ customers. Said cases just had a bunch of jewelry and little powders, which should have been the first red flag. Nopony just sells little powders. Little powders are a thing you sell in addition to something else.

The room ran the whole width of the warehouse, but wasn’t more than ten feet deep, if that, and completely filled with smoke from a hookah sitting with another zebra behind the counter. This one was pale (not including the stripes, obvious—

Wait, are zebras black with white stripes, or white with black? Dangit, now I’ll be asking that for weeks!

Anyway, he had this hookah-thing, and it was steaming up the joint like nothing I’d ever seen. He was a little guy, with a long, full mane trimmed in green, which makes me wonder now if Zecora is just oddly under-colored for zebras, or something.

Zecora, when I asked her, said that she is particularly rare amongst zebrakind. Being colorless is a sort of rare genetic mutation, it sounds like, and zebras consider it an omen. On the plus side, it marked her as special, and so she was given a lot of free education and training to become an alchemist and a shaman. Downside? It sounds like she wasn’t really given an option. She loves what she does now, but I get the feeling there’s a lot of stuff she wishes she could have done with her life besides that.

He put the pipe into his muzzle, and drew a deep, deep draw of smoke.

“Still got that cold?” the one who’d saved me asked him.

The one behind the desk snorted a deep lungful of smokey mist out, and hacked into a tissue. “This humidifier is useless!” he snarled miserably, and continued hacking again.

Yeah, so. Humidifier. Didn’t know they had those back then.

They shouldn’t, but then the zebras of Farasi were always weirdly advanced compared to Equestria, all the way up to the last few centuries when Celestia started subsidizing certain industrial technologies. Cabbie is interested in all the legal and business theories about that time, but it just makes my head swim. Not enough punching, and too much ‘tax code history’.

Farasi (for completeness’ sake) is the far-off and little-understood nation of Zebras, Kelpie, and Abadas. They’re a bit of an odd reflection of Equestria, but I left the write-up on them to Caballeron, if only so that he’d stop talking to me about how Celestia busted the Trusts. Again.

Yes, I italicized myself for emphasis, wanna fight about it?

“Never mind that,” the boss said with a shake of his head. “Bring out some Ukulawula powder. Can’t you see our guest is exhausted?”

Sniffling, Zebra Number Two hooked up his humidifier, turned around, and headed through the beaded-door behind him, presumably deeper into the warehouse’s main room. I couldn’t see much past that, but there was a funk to that place. It probably sat right on top of a dock sticking into the Maretime Bay.

I assumed it was MB. If Gallopoli was really Baltimare, in any case. I swear, if I ever get back home, I’ll actually attend the next TrixCon. After all this nonsense, I could use the familiarity.

“That satyr nearly had you,” the zebra said to me. “Are you alright?”

His voice was deep, and calming. Like one of those Sleep spells that played pre-recorded sounds of ocean surf and meditative music. I love those things. Starlight only ever plays ‘gardening sounds’ and ‘forest ambience’ ones, for some reason. At least Sunburst, when he sleeps over, goes for something fun like ‘thunderstorm’.

Nopony ever appreciates the dulcet tones of ‘Fireworks’ for some insane reason!

“Now that I’m not getting chased, yeah,” I told him with a happy sigh. “Trixie thanks you, by the way. If you hadn’t come along, I don’t know what would have happened.”

“You would probably be dead,” he laughed.

“Yeah… yeah,” was more or less what Trixie said in reply. “I didn’t catch your name.”

He smiled – a real charming smile at that! – and bowed slightly.

“That is because I did not give it. But I do so now, and willingly. My name is Z’Ngue. But amongst my friends, Zombie will do.”

He reached out and, ~~ignoring the way Trixie’s face~~ totally falling for my trusted and patented Face of Pokering, through which my ~~confusion~~ thinking deeply about his name could not be surmised, he kissed my hoof like a true gentlecolt!

Trixie blushed. Now here was a stallion of style and—

Trixie wrote a sizeable paragraph detailing how suave and ‘smexy’ she thought Zombie was, but for some reason it’s been rendered almost entirely unreadable with a bunch of silver magical ink.

Starswirl admits to nothing, naturally. Since it’s all fragmented on top of that, I just went ahead and skipped it for you. Suffice to say, Trixie was wowed by Zombie. And his ‘assets’.

… his flank wasn’t half bad as well!

What? Trixie can admire the scenery, Journal! She’s not beholden to anypony.

Well. Not then. Now? Sure. Trixie would never consider betraying the heart of her most wonderful pookems. Lord Sombra is the most handsome, greatest coltfriend, most nklli dawojp master Sombn= qjwdl kj

DoN’’t tell him aa-b.ou1 FUTER

*section becomes illegible scrawls after this*

Starswirl wants it known that Trixie was under Sombra’s control when she wrote this bit, and was obviously (unsuccessfully) fighting back. He likely had her continue her normal routine, journal writing and all, to not arouse suspicion from Gusty and the other Resistance members. Still, that low magic score was biting her in the flank really hard just there. Unicorns usually have a heightened resistance to mind control due to their type of magic giving them a sort of familiarity with it, but her own magic is so minimal that she just can’t push back hard enough to break free. And Sombra’s mind control is supposed to be extra nasty on top of that.

Trixie was, luckily, not in Ponyville during his last takeover. She was actually off performing in Neighbraska. But, true to form, as soon as she heard what happened, she got on the overnight express home to make sure Starlight was okay.

Trixie can be cute, sometimes.

“Zombie?” I asked.

“Heh,” he heh’d back, “it’s an old nickname. Got it from running the nightshift once too often on the ship.”

Trixie laughed along with Zombie, though I wasn’t sure if he was really laughing now that I think about it.

“And does ‘Trixie’ have some hidden meaning as well?” he asked. “I admit, it is a very strange name I have not heard before.”

I tried for my best performer’s bow, though without the hat I don’t think it held up all that well. “Trixie hides many things. Usually, her own Great and Powerful skills as a magician.”

Zombie narrowed his eyes, and scratched at his chin, where I noticed he had a tiny little black-and-white striped soul-patch. Very cool.

“A magician, you say?” he mused. Then, nodding, he added, “That is quite impressive, considering your Emperor’s ban on such magic.”

My ear twitched. At first, I thought it was the sound of brewing tea in the back rooms that I could just make out over our conversation – and the clinking of glass and the quiet curses of the poor sick zebra as it sounded like he might’ve accidently broken something expensive – but I couldn’t be sure.

I’d heard something though. Something that I wasn’t yet aware of.

“Well, he’s not my Emperor,” I said with some distaste. All this talk about Grogar had been wearing down on me for days, as had the weeks of talking and traveling with Swirly.

To put it mildly, I was sick of talking about Grogar, and I didn’t like the cut of his jib.

“Ah, of course,” was all Zombie said, clearly getting what I was getting at.

And that was all he said.

Which got my ear twitching, again.

“Hm,” Trixie hm’d.

“Is something wrong?” Zombie asked. “You’re giving me an odd look there.”

“Am Trixie? Er, I?”

He nodded. “Haven’t I proven myself a friend so far?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I said, though the odd sound was still there. And it definitely wasn’t the tea set getting dropped behind the counter, followed by more swearing and sneezing. “You helped me out back there with Slove. That was impressive, actually. Trixie has only seen such powder-work once before.

“But it does beg the question: Why?”

He blinked, and tilted his head curiously. This had the bonus effect of making one of his blue dreads droop adorably across his brow.

Yes, that detail was important, Journal.

“Why?”

“Yes, why?” I insisted. “Nopony does anything for free. At least, not around here, it seems. Everycreature out there seems more than happy to help Grogar. Why not you? Why’d you save Trixie?”

Zombie chuckled, and shook his head again. “It is such a sad thing, that ponies cannot trust anymore these days. Is it so unbelievable that I might have seen a cute mare and wanted to help her in her moment of need?”

Yeah, he was good at that sweet talk. Too good.

“Cute?” I asked. But I did it in that cool, heroic way. Not with the blushing and the hoof twisting and the nose scrunching an—

Shut up, Journal.

I wasn’t completely smitten. In fact, that darn twitching was back.

And finally, I knew why.

It was because I was expecting something very specific from him, but it wasn’t there.

“You don’t rhyme,” Trixie pointed out. “You haven’t rhymed even once since we got here.”

This time, Zombie said nothing. Nothing at all. He noticeably didn’t move a single muscle in his face. Not to smile. Not to frown. Not to blink.

“Sorry?” he said, finally letting out his breath. “Did you say rhyme?”

“Yeah, I thought it was a zebra thing,” I explained. His eyes were beginning to twitch, the more I spoke. “My friend Zecora always speaks in rhyme. Never wondered about that until now…”

Trixie did indeed trail off there, since Zombie looked like he was about to have a heart attack. If the bits of blue in his mane and stripes wasn’t natural, I was afraid the sweat pouring off him would have washed it away.

“You… know a Zecora?”

Yeah. He said it like that. A. Like, a Zecora.

That’s new. That’s very new, and very interesting. I might have to ask her about that someday.

Zecora and Trixie actually are good friends, from what I can tell. Zecora took in the showpony the night of that Ursa Minor incident, after Trixie ran off into the Everfree to escape the embarrassment of getting shown up by you. Zecora gave her a shoulder to cry on and a warm couch to sleep on until she could work up the courage to sneak back into Ponyville and drag her wagon out of there under cover of night. It was even Zecora who convinced Trixie to do one more show before giving up showbusiness.

Granted, that show went down in flames and Trixie ran off to work on the Pie Rock Farm, but it’s the thought that counts.

The ‘a’ Zecora thing makes sense, in context. I had to ask her about it, and she was predictably hard to parse with how much rhyming*** she managed in her explanations, but I got some fascinating information out of her!

Zecora isn’t a name. It’s a title! A zecora is what they call their shamans. That’s actually a bad translation though, since zecoras are like a combination doctor, priest, guard, and community leader. The fact that our Zecora moved all the way to the Everfree is kind of a big deal, regardless of her exact reasons for doing so.

Farasi, from what Zecora said, lies atop a sort of natural dimensional rift into the Dreamrealm. Spirits can use the rift to cross over, and it’s led to the zebras developing a potent system of alchemy and dream magic, they being (oddly) the Magic member of Farasi’s three-state system. Kind of like unicorns, actually. But part of developing said system is the renunciation of one’s name, since the Farasi breed of spirits seem like they can’t harm somecreature without knowing their true name.

It’s odd, but fascinating stuff. Cabbie’s going in deep on that branch of research. I’ll have a write-up on the Commonwealth of Farasi ready for you soon.

Oh, and Zecora wanted to say something:

***
Much is said and thought about my tongue,
But for the sake of this, your compendium,
An admission here, the first of its time,
A reason why we zecora rhyme.

In Equestria, Doctors learn from books,
In Farasi this would get you curious looks,
For Spirits may change what is wrought in ink,
Pour your memory right down the sink.

But memory and thought are guarded well,
By the same -mancy of Grogar's Bell,
Harmony's magic takes many forms,
As Trixie knows well, that unicorn,
Who sings the song of celestial spheres,
Whose ways are guile, smoke and mirrors.

Rhyming is but a step from song,
And the Spirits hate it, call it wrong.
But more on that, I will shed light,
For when you know spells, recipes, rites,
A system helps you hold it tight,
A library of the mind, my dear Twilight.

The reasons I have to speak in rhyme,
I hope are clearer now? Sublime!
But there is another, I must admit,
Besides the cause of memory and spirit.

And this is the most important one,
For speaking rhymes you see... is lots of fun!

Huh... the more you know.

But today wasn’t that day. When I pressed Zombie on it, he asked me where my Zecora was.

“Not here,” I said, not for the first time wondering how to answer without accidentally-ing a time paradox. “She lives a very long way off from Gallopoli.”

By now, I’d caught my breath just a little bit, and so had time to notice things. And to think. So, it should make you think well of Trixie that she realized how suspicious it was that this Zombie pony instantly calmed down the moment he realized Zecora was nowhere near him.

But, before Trixie could question him, the little one came back with a tiny snuffbox.

Nothing good is ever in snuffboxes, Journal. Nothing.

So, taking into account how suspicious Zombie was being, plus the snuffbox, plus the fact that at that exact moment a big old heavy bar dropped down behind me and locked the one door into the warehouse—

Yeah, I’m gonna say it was a trap of some sort. But Trixie was wise to their games. This was a trap to capture me?

Oh no!

It was now Trixie’s turn to spring a trap of her own!

“Hey, what’s that!?” I cried.

You would be shocked how often that works.

Caballeron: If I had a bit for every time Daring thwarted one of my plans simply by asking my henchponies to look behind themselves, I would be stupendously wealthy indeed. With a pool, and a house in the Baahamas, and a pile of money so big I could swim in it. Anyway. Stop calling me ‘Cabbie’, Daring. You are embarrassing me in front of her Royalness.

Daring: Fine. Sugarcube.

Zombie and his little buddy, halfway to doing whatever they were about to do, actually looked behind them. And that was when I struck!

I spun around, and gave the snuffbox a mighty buck, which sent it flying off through the air!

Whereupon, it bounced off the wall next to where the other zebra had gone. It ricocheted back, and skipped off the countertop, which sent it spinning over to the front door to the warehouse. It hit the door-bar, slapped into the floor, and shot straight up into the air, cracking across the small, wooden chandelier set into the ceiling.

And finally, the snuffbox came back down, and crashed directly into Trixie’s head.

And spilled its contents all over me.

I’d like to pretend that was planned, but even I can’t spin that.

No, not exactly the most glorious way for the Great and Powerful Trixie to get taken out. A red powdery mist dropped down onto Trixie’s head, shifting to midnight blue as it dusted my mane, my eyes, and even got into my nose.

Trixie felt her whole world shift. Light and sound melted. Up became down. Left became Thursday. I felt like I was falling and rising at the same time.

In short, Trixie was tripping. And once I hit the ground, I even bit my tongue! How unfair is that?

I never touched anything stronger than cider, Journal, but I could remember Grey Prancer’s stories. The ones he’d tell when he thought nopony was listening. The ones he told when he was warning me away from Las Pegasus.

That town is a hard one, I’ll leave it at that.

Anyway, Trixie doesn’t personally know what it’s like to shoot a bunch of wacky-dust up one’s noes on purpose, but I’m fairly certain this was close, if any of those stories are true. The air around me turned into a soupy, rainbow mess, and everything felt like a flashing, waking nightmare!

“Well, thank you for that, Trixie,” Zombie said to me. “Both for applying the mind control powder and for silencing yourself. I was afraid you’d sus me out before too much longer.”

Trixie wasn’t sure what she responded with, since my brain was somewhat melting at the moment (and my tongue hurt). Both zebras were climbing the walls from my perspective, and Zombie had three hooves too many. I wasn’t even sure, at first, which Zombie I was talking to, since there was more than one.

Eventually, the real one – who did not have a hat made out of antlers – revealed himself, saying, “You are drooling, Trixie. No matter, though. With my mind control magic, we’ll have you good and properly trained-up yet.”

“Uh, boss?” the little one piped up. “I thought Grogar put out a bounty on a mare named…”

“Zoolo,” Zombie sighed, and half-turned away from me, “you can’t just drop a wizard down in front of the Emperor. She could try anything.”

“Grogar?” I asked. Maybe. “Mind control!?”

Yes, mind control. The most depraved and cowardly of all magical arts. Only practiced by the most degenerate, the foolhardiest, and the most idiotic, stupid, bad-smelling, tiny limp-di—

Trixie’s quill appears to have slashed through the page here, her following horn-writing becoming highly scrambled and chaotic for a sentence or two. It’s a little hard to read, I know. But considering her hornwriting suddenly changes style altogether right after? I thought it important to send you the original.

Y0u d-00nh’t liokc that, -d-80 ya, SZombbra? Goo a hed an sk-weeze mnah brain, cuz wen i get gooder an fin -SWIRLY an fix TAnTabUS u r guna git ur rump kikked so hard—

Now, now, my Dear. Let’s not be too hasty. Finish the story, and do it correctly. I do so wish to see how Grogar features into this tale so far, and Gusty isn’t the one to know how Gallopoli was smote.

Be nice. I can make this far worse for you.

Mind control is the best. I love it. Starlight gets a bad rap.

Good girl.

Well, crap. That’s horrifying. This is getting really complicated, and now I’m worrying even more about whatever’s coming up.

“Grogar?” I think I managed to say again as I stood up, but my legs gave out. Or turned to mush. Or into spiders. Don’t remember, really.

Note: I should make cover-art for metal albums.

It took me a bit to realize she meant the music genre, which was always super-niche in Equestria before formal contact with hoomans (yes, I noticed Trixie spelled it humans, but I prefer this way). Trixie actually got Starswirl to do an album about himself. It’s not even that bad.

I booped the snoots of four-thousand mares…

“Yes, Grogar,” Zombie explained. “He’s put quite the bounty out on you. More bits than I could ever spend in ten lifetimes, actually!”

Zooloo nodded happily, and took up his ~~hookah~~ humidifier again. “Yeah, and the Boss spends money like he’s giving it away, so you know…”

Zombie growled, which seemed to shut up Zooloo real fast. Maybe. Again, world was a Potluck painting at the moment for me.

“I wouldn’t have ever tried collecting on that bounty, you understand?” Zombie said as he started slithering around the room and changing colors. “I don’t deal with zecoras, nor your Equestrian wizards. Too much risk, and never enough reward. But seeing you face off against that satyr…”

“You waited till it was tired,” I pointed out. Maybe. “Waited till I was tired.”

“You’re drooling, dear,” he said back. “And, in any case, yes. Why not? Minimizes the risk. Which does remind me, I should really start the procedure before we go any further.”

Now, Journal, I know Trixie was seeing things. My world was literally melting and reforming before my eyes. But I swear, I saw what I saw next. It was real. Like, really real.

His eyes changed. Not like hallucinating-change. Like, in between blinks, Zombie swapped out his own eyeballs for a field of stars. Blackest night filled with tiny flashing dots of silver light, all twinkling and flickering like cheap mood lighting.

And he smiled. Really creepily, too.

“Don’t worry, Trixie,” he said, and took a step towards me. “You won’t remember a thing.”

“About?”

“Anything,” he laughed again. “Usually, I use my Dreamwalking to erase the memories of potential slaves, to keep them compliant. But I take a… particular joy in eradicating the minds of wizards. Teach them a lesson in humility, and in keeping their prying minds out of other creature’s lives.”

Trixie tried to lick her lips, and think of something, anything to say.

“I think you’re projecting.”

Yeah, that was the best I got.

“Maybe,” he said back. Kinda surprised about that one. “But that’s neither here nor there. Now, open up your mind, and let me step inside…”

I italicized that for a reason, honestly. Because, as Zombie began to walk towards me, a few things happened.

First. He began to sing. Even villains have Heart Songs, you know.

Ah, poop. Another villainous coltfriend! Another one. How does this keep happening to me? Am I cursed?

Yeah, another one. Her list of former coltfriends seems to include Hay Guevara, Starswirl (depending on your thoughts about his ‘Windigo’ thing), King Sombra (on which Starswirl refuses to elaborate, jerk), Jack the Glitter, and even Flim and Flam Skim.

Yes, both of them. Although only because Flim didn’t mention that he wasn’t Flam at certain times. According to a guard report from Los Llamamos, Trixie shoved both of them into their Cider Squeazy device when she found out. Or, “an unnamed mare” did so. Despite there being over a hundred witnesses, nopony came forward to accuse her.

I know they’re not quite full villains, but I thought it was still telling.

Whatever. He began to sing. Which is bad, cuz Harmony and junk, right? I didn’t think of that, at the time, but now? Songs are weird, and they let you bend reality like mad. Heck, I always get the feeling that Pinkie Pie is perpetually humming something when she’s near me.

Certainly answers a lot of questions about her, now that I think about it.

But, oof! Villain Songs are bad news. Grogar having access to Harmonic Magic consciously is already a nightmare! Can you imagine another villain realizing how powerful they could be just by tapping into pure harmonic song? I mean, sure, you’d have to be a total tool, an ultramaroon, a batcrap craz—

*quill stabs obscure a few lines*

Got it. Keep to the script.

The second thing that happened was this: the warehouse disappeared. From my perspective, it all just fell away, leaving behind a sort of melty, mottled mess of colors. It would have been more calming, had this jerk not just told me he was about to use some sort of zebra dream magic on me and erase my memories.

Why do I keep getting put at the mercy of evil or misguided ponies who can just zap me away whenever? It’s getting old.

Anyway, so. He’s advancing on me, and his eyes are glowing like the night sky, and the melting world around us starts to bend again. The ‘sky’ turns dark, and swirls of starlight begin to fill it all up. The ground turns into a wide, green field. Still swirly. Still all inky and painty and blah blah blah.

So. I fibbed again. Or forgot to mention something. Whatever.

There was a third thing.

One, Zombie sang.

Two, the world melted and became all floaty.

Three.

Zombie stopped.

He stopped just a few feet from me. But his smile was gone. He stopped singing, and the first strands of his villainous monologuing music paused. I think there was even a record scratch.

His eyes slowly rose up, and his jaw dropped.

And then? He screamed. Like, the scream of the DOOMED. The kind of scream you make when your whole world explodes. The kind where you stub your hoof on the coffee table at two in the morning.

Both lungs. Full stop.

“It’s REAL!” he screamed, and flailed backwards. “THE NIGHT MARE IS REAL!!!”

Zooloo, who was currently taking the form of a ladybug with a zebra head, had to snatch his humidifier up into his forelegs before his boss slammed into the display case and cracked the glass.

“Boss? What’s…?”

“They weren’t lying!!” Zombie snarled and screamed some more. He crawled over the display cases, and threw himself through the open door, crying, “IT WAS ALL REALLY REALLY TRUE!!!”

Trixie was very confused by this point. Very much so. I turned around, as best I could while the world was still spinning, and looked behind me, to where Zombie had been looking.

Whatever was in that powder, I guess it did something with dreams, since all I could see besides the night sky and the swirly grass was that little Tantabus filly.

Yeah, just the Tantabus. Little alicorn cut-out of night sky with a little bob of a manecut and two big old adorable eyes. She was smiling, I think? Can’t be too sure with golems. The little top hat was a nice touch. While I don’t remember every dream I had while laid out, I do have a recollection of a few giving the little dream-tyke a crash lesson in being dramatic. But right here, she wasn’t doing anything that co—

Ah. Wait. Dramatic.

I bet she did something, and then didn’t let me see it, right? Clever girl. Very clever.

Clever enough to break herself free of Sombra’s mind control bullsh—

*page torn by quill, another Sombra mind-attack?*

Almost gotcha that time.

Zecora laughed when I told her about Zombie. Apparently, she knew of him. Not really so surprising, to be honest, when in Farasi he's known as Saint Z'Ngue the Prodigal. Left home as a colt because he hated "the system" and wanted to strike out on his own. I guess the Zebrican Dream Magic is a bit different from Luna's, not least is the fact that instead of being able to perceive the distant past like we now know the Princess can, zebras can manipulate Dream-Stuff to foretell the future. Z'Ngue sort of rebelled against being sorted into a monastic lifestyle because of a vision somepony had, and so left to become a pirate and a smuggler and a slaver.

Fast forward to after this all happened, and he makes it back to Farasi. He becomes a monk. He rededicates his life to others. He even spends fifty years in prison to make up for his crimes, and campaigns for just about every good cause there was at the time.

Then he writes a bunch of books. Like, a hundred books. Some are religious devotions. Some are philosophical treatises.

And then he wrote The Night Mare and the Tyranny of the Sun, a best-seller about his experience seeing the Tantabus (and whatever vision it offered him), which confirmed for many that the Old Zecoras' Tales about an evil mare who would bring about eternal night were real. A group of sun-worshippers took his texts to heart, and founded a cult.

So. Zecora is intimately familiar with old Zombie, one of the most famous zebras in all of history. Which led her to attempt to stop Nightmare Moon. Which she failed at (she does claim she knows firshoof what 'the stars will aid in her escape' means, by the way, and won't share it until you make time to have some tea with her again soon so do it do it doitdoitdoitdoitdoit). Which led to her changing her ways and becoming a more moderate zecora and local alchemist/pharmacist for the local ponies. Which led to her helping Trixie get back into showbiz, indirectly causing part of Trixie's mad spiral towards that darn Alicorn Amulet fiasco, and indirectly made her the perfect pony to befriend Starlight Glimmer, which meant she was around to help Thorax liberate his people from Chrysalis' tyranny, which

ALL OF WHICH put Trixie on the path to go back in time in the first place! It's always Trixie! It's all Trixie!

It's Trixies all the way down!!!

Trixie must have been tired. Bone tired. So tired her soul felt tired. And maybe being in contact with the whole dreamrealm thingie didn’t help. But, any case. I was beginning to drift off, lying there on the floor.

Which was when the world exploded again, naturally.

One whole wall fell in, actually. And a blur of ponies jumped Zooloo as he tried to run. I couldn’t really make out who they were, between me being so tired and so hopped up on that powdery stuff, but I could take a few guesses.

Gusty is really amazing. Like, turned into a freaking comet, going all nirik. She smashed through the glass display cases, and tore off after Zombie. I didn’t see much of what she did, but there were explosions, and crashes, and a lot of bad language and some cool one-liners.

I’m more hoping there were cool one-liners. Didn’t hear them myself.

Joyous Guard came in right after her, though, and I bet he was part of the reason why the rest of the display cases and the wall behind them fell apart so quickly. Like, I once watched Iron Will (before he left the circus) smash through a whole porcelain shop, and even that didn’t cause half as much damage as I could remember seeing there.

Iron Will, going by the immigration and police records kept since his youth, had a troubled childhood. He came to Equestria as a calf from Chimeria, the kingdom of centaurs, gargoyles, and other chimeric creatures. As a teen, he always got into trouble with the law, and was heading for a rotten life when he was given the choice of prison time, or joining the circus.

According to him, showbusiness saved his life. He worked with Trixie on and off, but they were apparently okay-friends back in the day. They recently reconnected, just a few months before all this health stuff with Trixie started up.

But just as Trixie finally, mercifully collapsed into a dreamless sleep, I could remember hearing singing. Like, really nice singing. Another Heart Song, I thought. Melody Song’s green greenness filled my senses for a moment, just a moment as she led some sort of charge.

And, I thought at that time, I couldn’t help but wonder at the faceless ponies charging in with her.

Especially the colt in a red magician outfit.

Well. What would you expect to happen after that?

Trixie woke up in a freaking cocoon. That’s what it felt like. I tried to shift around, and find a comfortable spot, but there wasn’t an inch of give to my sheets, and it became very clear as to why once I opened my eyes.

My bedsheets were wrapped around me.

They were strapped to me by at least ten belts, and each one of them had been tied together with string, and then padlocked shut!

There were more ropes, of course, and a couple of heavy chains with their own padlocks. And a few smaller chains holding them down to the bed and down to the floor.

I saw a weight, Journal. Somepony had dropped a hundred-pound weight in the middle of the floor, and tied my bed to it.

And as Trixie struggled against these new bonds, it became clear that I had one more impediment placed on me: My horn. Somepony had actually placed one of those Magic Suppressing Horn Rings on it! Who would do such a thing!?

I shall tell you who! Starswirl the TRAITOR! Gusty the JERK!

And I told that to their faces, since they were still in the room, playing cards by candlelight.

“Quislings!” I called them. “Traitors! HOW DARE YOU!!??”

Starswirl, one thousand years back, wrote the following:

If you only knew how bad of shape you were in. Those suppressors weren’t easy to come by, either. Melody had to promise a lot of non-paying writing work to the local Troggle Captain to sneak out a set (who knew Troggles liked poetry so much?). I swear, if you hadn’t taken our advice and let yourself sleep for the next few weeks, I think I might have turned you to stone just to get the point across! Assuming I could even do that back then. Which I couldn’t, but whatever. Shut up, Journal.

Oh good heavens, now I’m doing it.

But, it was to no avail. They wouldn’t budge. The ponies, not the chains. Although those didn't budge either, to be fair.

"Trixie, I think this city has just about had enough of you for one day," Gusty said, tiredly. She was definitely favoring her left legs as she turned to face me. "Captain Flash was barely able to keep those monsters preoccupied, the market square will probably smell like onions for a month, and now we have to move out of the warehouse district before..."

"Captain Who?" I asked. I probably should have let Gusty finish, in hindsight, but being tied up was a bit unnerving at the best of times for Trixie.

With the clatter of metal plates, an all-too familiar pony stepped into Trixie's visual range.

"That would be me," she said in a low, husky voice. In the candlelit lighting inside the inn (lit, light, inside, inn, good grief I'm a hack) she really did look like a slightly recolored Tempest Shadow. Trixie had to fight the urge to check and see if she only had one wing, or something.

She snorted with a laugh, and then winced. Maybe she had both wings, but I could tell she was wearing a sort of civilian-style leather armor more for the rib-support than outright protection. "Thanks for the riot, Trixie. My colts and fillies loved a chance to kick Grogar's monsters' plots around a bit."

"You're not in trouble for helping Trixie?" I asked.

Flash Thunder (cool name) shrugged in the way only someone about to feed me a line would shrug. "Nah," she said, "the City Council's played nice with Grogar for so long that he usually takes our side with these things. And since nopony or creature mentioned your involvement..."

Well, it was nice to hear that Trixie's involvement hadn't brought down the wrath of Grogar. At least, not yet. Those three monsters were probably too scared to admit they'd lost me again, thinking about it now.

Still. What Flash said stuck with me.

"So... the pegasi aren't on Grogar's side?"

Captain Flash shook her head again. "No. Well... yes, but no. It's a lot easier to subvert the Emperor's plans if he thinks you're a part of them. But that means playing along, most of the time. Waiting for a moment to strike.

"And now that we have a Great and Powerful Wizard on our side..."

"The what and what and what?" I asked. Eloquence was out the window that night. Trixie was too tired for all that.

Flash Thunder smiled, and nodded.

"Once we heard about Hyneighria, the City Council knew that the time was nigh! General Bray had destroyed an entire town on Grogar's orders, all to catch... The Wizard."

I think her eyes literally shone, Journal. Like, a filly seeing her birthday cake and realizing it was big enough to make a cake-fort out of. It was almost the purest smile I've ever seen.

And then what she said registered with me. And a deep, dark pit opened up in Trixie's stomach.

"The fabled Wizard," Flash went on, almost dreamily. "The legendary figure of prophecy, whose appearance was to herald our redemption. Our Revolution! How could we not join the Resistance led by such a mare?"

"LED!?" Trixie cried. "I'm not the leader!"

But before I could clarify further, Swirly (the little rat that he is) hopped up in front of me.

"That is to say," he said, hat off and pushed into my face, "Trixie isn't the sole leader of the Resistance. Gusty and the others are... her most trusted advisors and fellows. Her allies!"

"First amongst equals," Melody sang, "that's us!"

"I'm not one of you!" I protested, managing to speak past the red hat sticking out of my mouth by this point. "I don't even like half of you!"

Flash Thunder blinked, and frowned.

"Weren't you the one who moved the Sun and the Moon?" she asked.

"Well, yes," Trixie admitted. "But that was..."

"And you defeated Grogar's Hunters!" Flash continued on, smile returning. "Your ward told us of that particular exploit. And today's carnage only made it plain how much those three despise and fear you!"

Trixie was a bit stunned. Partly to hear that Swirly had been talking about me, ~~but also that so much of my talent and abil—~~

I really can't stop bragging, can I? It's like a disease at this point. I agreed with Flash's words. Technically, she wasn't wrong. I did defeat Grogar's goon squad. It was through trickery and astounding levels of luck, but it still sort of counted.

"Then how could we lose with the Great and Powerful Trixie at our head?" Flash finished, and by now I could tell what she was. That gleam in her eye said it all.

She was a Super Fan.

They suck all the fun out of being famous and beloved, Trixie will say. And now? This was probably the Ur example. To Flash, Trixie was already a hero. And all she'd heard about me was lies. Then again, that's kind of all there really is to me, so what difference did this make?

Realizing that I was about to be properly hijacked into being the leader of a doomed revolution — predestination or not, it was Gusty, not Trixie, that won the first time around — in a doomed down, in potentially a doomed timeline depending on what I do next, Trixie felt suddenly light-headed, and collapsed onto the bed.

Or it could have been a lack of blood circulation. Those stupid ropes were too tight!

And so, Journal. That’s it. That’s the end of my account of what happened in Gallopoli. Nothing else happened. I went to sleep, and woke up a month later in this cave with a psychotic sorcerer who can’t take a hint that PRINCESS AMORE WILL NEVER LOVE YO—

There’s a rather worrying burn here that seems to have destroyed much of the next page. And left a few traces of some sort of salt?

No, wait. Hang on.

Had to run and get it analyzed. Moondancer was up doing some sort of personal research, and helped me out.

Yeah, it’s crystal. Dark crystals.

I’m going to get some shuteye now. Cab just brought in another bundle of research notes, and I realized he left two days ago but I’m still sitting in the same chair. Starswirl is sleeping in the self-help section. He says the ‘overcomplicated nonsense provides ample insulation against the cold’. Whatever that means.

I’ll hit the journal again in the morning. Let me know if any huge, earth-shattering revelations pop up in the meantime, alright?

Daring, out.

Author's Note

I swear this chapter was supposed to be half as long and cover twice as much stuff. Gaaaah!

I wasn't super impressed with the IDW version of the Zebras, and for a lot of reasons I don't want to go into here. Suffice to say, I felt like it went against certain themes and expectations previously set up by the show, and I felt that it was ultimately a disappointing revelation. Really ruined Zecora's character, if I'm being honest.

That being said, hope to see you all soon!

Narrativus Interruptus

Trixie seems to have run out of paper at this point and had to glue in a whole new stack. You can tell from the binding, and how she opens up this next bit, with a recap of what’s already happened to her.

It is, of course, in classic Trixie fashion.

Alright, Journal Junior. Journal Two. Magical Boogaloo. The Second One. Trixie’s Bizarre Adventure: Revengeance.

Where does Trixie begin?

If the first half of this journal is lost or destroyed or used as toilet paper by somepony who TRIXIE SHALL MURDER FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE, then I would like to take a moment to recall what’s happened thus far in my journeys.

I, the Great and Powerful Trixie Lulamoon, most magical and mightiest of all unicorn mages in Equestria, was born on a Tuesday.

Skipping over my entirely epic-yet-tragic foalhood, Trixie became a Hero of Equestria by saving the world from the Changeling Queen on no less than two occasions. Other ponies might have been involved as well.

Hey, I was there for that second one! Everycreature was!

But after that, and after Trixie, Great and Powerful as she is, decided to settle down and become a school counselor, she was cruelly snatched away from the palace in which she lived by a spell gone awry! In an instant, I found myself trapped thousands of years in the distant past, where there is no Equestria, no Magic of Friendship, and where the villainous Grogar still rules with an iron hoof.

I managed to find myself an apprentice, the very famous wizard Starswirl the Bearded, who is only a kid at this time, and I am now traveling across the world, teaching him all that I know.

Or, I would be. Except that I’ve gotten myself mind-controlled by a lunatic dark wizard with delusions of grandeur. And he’s forcing me to retell how I managed to find my way to the city of Gallopoli, and subsequently destroy said city in my attempts to avoid becoming the leader of a rebellion against Grogar the Ram, since I know from history that Trixie Lulamoon didn’t lead anypony to victory.

No. At this rate, all Trixie is leading them towards is an early grave.

I’ve been dragging my hooves with this entry. Trixie hasn’t really had a lot of time to process what all happened in Gallopoli. She probably missed a few things. Like Blossom’s cooking. Wait, did I cover that?

Either way, it’s so soon. Too soon. I’ve spent a couple days writing this all out, and it still doesn’t seem real at times. Not helping matters is that I’m basically stuck helping Gusty work on logistics, Melody with her propaganda, Trixie still has to take time to teach Swirly, and of course there’s the little fact that the rest of my time is completely taken up with tutoring an egomaniacal, obsessive stalke—

As fond as I am of you, Trixie, and your wondrous magical knowledge, I must remind you to remain on-topic. We are fast-approaching the part of your story I truly wish to hear. Only you truly know what happened at the Battle of Gallopoli, and I greatly desire the secrets of Grogar’s power he displayed there.

I k3ep ttelling you, ppPppPookems (stop mak m3 sai thaaat) that t4e BELL u wahn is a trajedy waiti—

My Destiny lies in that Bell! I have seen it in your memories of the future-to-be. You even wore my House Sigil once! My Empire will be eternal.

King Sombra has such a nice ring to it, yes? Much nicer than Ba—

LLLLlis5ten TO MME

Did you just interrupt me? Wait, are you dictating me?

How marvelous! I’ll have to make a note of that. I could revolutionize magical communication this way. Imagine the Empire’s reach if I could merely think a thing, and have banks of pony scribes scratch it out precisely as I meant it to appear. Even when you defy me, you only make my eventual victory all the more complete! Princess Amore was a fool to hide her crystal ponies in the north. She could have ruled the world with the power soon to be at my hooftips!

She will have to accept me, once I present her with my greatest gift: Ascension!

Couldn’t just start with flowers, huh?

Fine. So, there were a couple things that happened during my two weeks of downtime. First, Trixie w—

And then, a splotch of thousand-year-old mold destroyed the following couple of pages. And everything written there. And Starswirl was, apparently, indisposed during large parts of Trixie’s downtime, so he doesn’t really remember what happened there either.

No. I’m not okay. I’m not fine. I—

Your Most Glorious Excellency, this is Doctor Quixote de Cervantes y Caballeron. The second. My wife is currently indisposed due to unyielding scholarly rage. I can honestly say I have not seen her like this since a first edition copy of the Poninomicon was vaporized in front of her during an archeological dig (it was an honest mistake, but the Mummy King should have known better). I am applying the boo-boo kisses and hot coco mugs of happiness as I write this missive. Daring will be back to work shortly.

It is a tragedy, of course. Losing such a valuable piece of historical knowledge. With all the bizarre revelations and heroics perpetrated by Trixie in her travels, one can only boggle at the incredible insights into our collective history we have lost here today.

“Row, row, row your boat,” Trixie sang in a half-slurred, slumber-deprived tone, “gently down the stream… Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily… life is but a dream…”

She gave an experimental tug at her left hindleg. The chains clinked, gently.

Nope. Still shackled.

She breathed, slowly, out her nose.

“Row, row, row your boat…”

Gusty, leaning beside the bed, took up the round.

“Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream…!”

Trixie reached the beginning again.

“Row, row, row your boat…”

Gusty followed.

“… Row, row, row your boat…”

Then came Melody, nodding along.

“…Row, row, row your boat…”

“Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily…!”

“Row, row, row your boat…”

“… gently down the stream…!”

Swirly sighed, and joined as the next round began.

“Row, row, row your boat…”

“Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily…!”

And then, Joyous Guard joined, with a scowl.

“Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily…!”

The door to the room opened, and Snuzzle the proprietor came through.

She came through, angry.

“I SWEAR BY MAREPHEUS’ MOON, I WILL END EVERYPONY IN THIS INN IF YOU DON’T STOP SINGING THAT TARTARIANSONG RIGHT THIS INSTANT!!!”

Everypony in the room stopped, breath held tight. Nopony dared move, lest they prove that Snuzzle’s eyesight was based on movement.

After a few terrifying heartbeats, the green unicorn huffed and left the room, grumbling obscenities one only learned from a lifetime of working in the service industry.

The room was left utterly silent.

Except for Trixie. Who would have welcomed the sweet release of death on this, the eighth day of her confinement.

“One bottle of cider on the wall,” she sang. “One bottle of ciderrr…!”

Alright. I got my coco and my hubbie smooches. Let’s get back to it, shall we?

There’s some good news, at least. One section of the damaged text appears relatively intact. Everything before and after it are lost, and Starswirl claims he doesn’t remember what was in there (liar!) but at least we have a bit more of what happened while Trixie was tied down.

—and we’ll even give the Manticore Moon Shot a go!” I was getting excited, just thinking about performing again. “Sure, it might break the time-space condominium, but when haven’t we done that before?”

Swirly smiled at that, though maybe in retrospect it was more of a grimace. He dutifully held up the glass and straw Trixie was drinking out of, and then very un-dutifully waited until I was taking a long drink before he said something I’ll never forget, nor forgive.

“Master Trixie,” he said slowly, treacherously, “I think I should keep doing the show on my own, for a little while.”

“What?” I asked.

Don’t look at me that way, Journal. Trixie would never choke on ice cubes, no matter how shocked and surprised and outraged she might have been. She was calm and cool as cucumber sandwiches!

Are you talking to your journal?

Quiet, you! You want your Harmony Magic? You have to listen to Trixie’s narration! That’s the price!

Very well, slave. If it keeps you talking. Though why I ever wanted that I shudder to think…

Are you also writing my speech with ellipses? That’s so tacky.

Anyway, Trixie asked this perfectly reasonable question reasonably and without ice cubes in her trachea.

Swirly scooped up the broken glass from the floor - unrelated - and said, “I just think that I’ve been doing a good job so far! I’m finding a rhythm, like you said to,”

“A rhythm without Trixie!”

“Trixie, your magic is still recovering!” He reminded me, the twerp. “Another big use of your magic before its recovered, and you could burn out. Again! And this time, maybe forever!”

For some reason, the way he said ‘forever’ seemed to echo in the room. And with the syllables really drawn out. And in Pinkie’s voice.

Spooky. Also, I knew he was right.

“You’re right,” I said in a not-pout not-whine sort of way. “Of course, you’re right, Swirly. But it’s so frustrating! Do you know how many hospitals and doctors I’ve skipped out on?”

“From the way you describe medical ponies in general, I would have assumed they covered you with leeches daily.”

“No,” said Trixie. “Worse! They overcharge for their services!”

I think Swirly said something sarcastic just then, but I wasn’t paying attention. Like I’d been doing for the past few weeks, Trixie was too busy sulking about her horrible plight.

“You know me, Swirly. My magic is who I am! Without it, what even is Trixie?”

Swirly pressed one hoof into my side - one of the bruise-less parts - in a comforting way, and smiled at me.

“Trixie?” He said. Asked. Wait, if he’s asking a rhetanomical question, but he’s not wanting a response, do I still put a question mark?

Whatever. “Trixie,” he said, “you are a—“

And then an explosion happened. You’d think I’d be done with that sort of thing by now, but it still surprised me. Mostly because it was a few feet above my bed.

“DID SOMEONE SAY DISCORD?!”

Yeah. Him again.

“Nopony said Discord!” I protested from my prostrate position as the demented little ram descended onto the chair by my bed. I had to yell a little since his entrance had been just loud enough to leave a ringing in my ears.

Also, Swirly appeared to be screaming in terror. There was that too. Too bad we were practically the only ponies in the building at the moment, or it might have attracted help.

“Good,” Discord laughed. “I wouldn’t want to be where I’m wanted.”

He bunched up his stupid bushy eyebrows and looked across from me.

“What’s with him?” He asked, pointing at Swirly, whose back was against the wall, and who was still screaming.

Discord scowled, and then did something super freaky, even for him. He reached both forehooves up and, like some rich pony taking off opera socks, he delicately pulled his left hoof off!

Like, right off! And underneath it was his more familiar talon!

I thought you said Discord was a ram. What manner of—?

SHUT UP

There’s another ink-slash in the page here. I don’t think Sombra liked that.

Discord snapped his talons, and I watched helplessly as Swirly’s mouth (and his screams) disappeared.

“That’s so much better,” said Discord, all smug-like. “I could hardly hear yourself think with all that racket.”

Swirly, now mouthless, started rolling on the ground. Muffle-screaming, instead of actual-screaming. Was still pretty nasty.

“Trixie hopes you’ll put him back the way he was!” I said. The sight of a mouthless pony dredged up a lot of memories I’d rather not dwell on. “I need him to be able to do his magic show.”

Discord shrugged. “Eh, maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. I kinda like him this way. Hmmm.”

He hummed, and drifted over me and towards Swirly. The little ram-thing scratched at his chin with his talon, and then hefted my apprentice up to his hooves.

“Hmmm,” he hmmm’d again. Swirly had stopped screaming by now, just looking dumbfounded at Discord in what Trixie can only suppose was sheer terror.

Then, Discord smiled. “You know, kid? You’re lucky.”

He snapped his talon again, and in a flash, I saw Discord and Swirly standing side-by-side, Discord now in an identical red robe and hat as Swirly!

“We’re twins!” Discord laughed. “Like I said, lucky! Born with such rare grace and handsomosity! I bet ponies will be confusing us for each other forever!”

Trixie didn’t see it, personally.

Starswirl has written in the margins here:

Neither do I! That wretched chimera is nothing but a hooligan and a scallywag!

Ooo! Scallywag! Seriously, do you kiss your hoof with that mouth?

And stop commenting on my commentary! I’m trying to honor a memory here!

This journal is getting crowded.

A section of water damage obscures the text

“Come on!” Discord whined some more. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t!”

“No!” I said for what felt like the umpteenth time that minute. “It’ll cause a paradox!”

I got it right that time.

“Now, now!” Discord pouted, and made his other hoof transform into an awful, stupid, not-very-like-me likeness of my head. “You even said, ‘The Discord I know isn’t that much of a jerk!’ So, I know that we know each other. But how?”

“Don’t tell him anything!” Swirly cried out, rather unhelpfully from the painting Discord had trapped him in. “You know what will happen!”

“Ooooh!” Discord shrilly cried. “What will happen? Tell me! Tell me tell me tell me!!!”

“I’ve told you a million times,” I told the not-yet-a-draconequus, “anything I say could cause a paradox! Trixie can’t risk it!”

“Paradox, schmaradox!” he pouted, and rolled his little red eyes around. “What even is a paradox? Who’s to say it wouldn’t be a hoot?”

“Starlight Glimmer, for one!” I snapped back. “She taught me everything I ever knew about this time-travel garbage! And if she says no—”

Cute as a tiny ram-Discord might be, I hated seeing that smug little grin on his face after he heard me say that.

“You don’t know, do you?”

“Of course, Trixie knows what a parapox is!” I lied. And despite how expertly Trixie is able to lie – Starlight sometimes says I can fool even myself, which is a great and powerful compliment for one so perceptive as Trixie – even I could tell Discord didn’t buy it.

Starlight once tried to explain it to me, but Trixie didn’t have her ‘listening-hat’ on. She had her ‘magician’ hat on, and that hat was more or less interested in hearing how Starlight’s time travel spell worked, not why I shouldn’t use it to simulate a ‘Disappearing’ spell for my act.

Are all hats sentient when you come from?

Her disappearing act? Was that actually what caused all this!?

I checked with Starswirl and Starlight both on just how bad a paradox could get. Starswirl bluffed and sputtered something about it being very bad, which tells me he never figured out what Trixie was talking about either.

From Starlight: I so totally told her what a Paradox did! I swear, it’s like in one ear and out the other with that mare.

What’s a paradox? The End of All Things. It’s the end of everything, everywhere, everywhen. Just me casting a time travel spell caused Sunset Shimmer’s entire timeline to get folded back in on itself to keep literally everything in existence from unraveling at the seams. Breaking the link between Cause and Effect, or inserting a new Cause into the timeline where it shouldn’t be, would overwrite everything that came after.

No, it’s worse than that. Because once everything was unraveled, it would stitch itself back together again. But DIFFERENT. And that means that every single moment in the timeline would get a proverbial reroll, down to the thermodynamic level. Best case scenario? One of Twilight’s friends isn’t born. Worst case is that the conditions necessary for LIFE to exist in our universe never form.

Uh, Daring? You’re awfully pale. Should I stop?

Oh, that was not a good look, Journal. Or should I be addressing Baron Sombra now?

Journal is fine, slave.

Cool.

Discord got this mad look in his eyes. Well, madder than usual. Or, just about as mad as he usually is, but this time it was a specific sort of mad.

It was ‘Thinking’ madness. And when you’re a reality warper, that’s never good.

“Why am I putting up with you?” he asked himself. “I’m the all-powerful, all-knowing—”

“If you were all-knowing…”

A zipper zipped my lip ~~ship~~ shut.

“Shut up,” he added, then continued in the same breath, saying: “I’m all-powerful, and about to be all-knowing! I’m DISCORD! The Great and Powerful! I don’t need you to tell me anything!”

I hated hearing two of those words in his mouth in particular.

Discord lifted off the bed, and said something that made Trixie’s ~~stomach~~ flat and perfect stomach do a loop.

“Let’s roll the dice,” he whispered, “and see what we get…”

He held up his little talon, and I knew he was about to do his stupid Chaos magicky thing!

I struggled against the chains and padlocks and bonds that held Trixie down, but it was no use. It also wasn’t much use hoping Swirly could stop Discord either, on account of his being trapped still.

No, the only creature that could stop Discord at that moment was Discord.

Trixie still doesn’t know how to properly describe what happened—

Try anyway.

I was gonna!

Trixie means, she isn’t entirely certain about why it happened, but a thing happened then that definitely happened. It was just bonkers.

Because Discord showed up just then.

Yeah, Modern Discord. In all his draconewhatsit idiocy just popped into existence to one side of my bed.

I’m sorry, what?

Twilight Sparkle, sitting on her royal bed, stared at the page, donut hanging from her open-mouth.

“What?”

As did Daring Do, whose partner Caballeron nearly fell from his library chair as her own shout woke him up in the middle of the night.

“Wait… what!?”

Discord spat out his coffee.

“Oh snarfflepants!” Discord cried, instantly regretting doing that, as Trixie’s edited journal now had rather a lot of coffee dribbling down its pages. He snapped his talons, and hastily tried to soak up as much of it as he could before it stained.

Then he remembered why he’d spat it out just at that moment.

“Is it that time already!?”

With a panicked look in his yellow and crimson eyes, the Spirit of Chaos leapt up to his feet, and reached out with a claw…

Well, okay. It was more like a portal appeared out of thin air and he stepped through into the room, but it’s Discord. I try not to give that guy any more ego-stroking than I have to, even in journal descriptions!

And it was cool, Journal. Super cool. ~~Extremely—~~

Anyway, Little-Cord just floats there with the biggest idiot look on his face. Admittedly, Trixie and Swirly must have also looked somewhat confused. I admitted it! Trixie doesn’t know everything!

“Uh… wait, what?” asked Little-Cord.

Big-Cord (okay, I’ll stop that now) just adjusted his tie—

Jeez, that was an ugly one, too. It was like, purple, yellow, and green-stripped with polkadots on it.

What does this have to do with anything!?

Wait, what colors? Last time I saw Discord was at a Wonderbolt event Dash invited me to a few months back. Discord had a tie on then as well. A real stinker, in fact.

When did Discord go back in time?

Whatever.

The ~~modern future later~~ Classic Discord shook his head, and frowned at Diet Discord. He stuck one of his paw-fingers into his mouth, and swirled it around a moment. Real awkward, let me tell you. Even the little Discord was sort of off-put by the whole thing.

And then, Discord reached out and actually stuck his finger in his younger-self’s EAR!

It was the worst thing Trixie has seen yet!

Didn’t you watch a town get slaughtered?

This was worse.

Little Discord’s eyes did all sorts of crazy things, by the way. They changed color, they grew and shrank in size, and they even spun around a few times for good measure. Up and down, like a slot machine.

While all this happened, Discord (old one) gives me this stupid smug smirk of his, and stepped back into the portal. I tell you, Journal, if I could have Trixie would have leapt at that chance to get back home!

I guess it would have been Discord’s home, but I’m sure I could have managed from there.

Actually, that would have been a mistake, probably. Trixie didn’t see much beyond a weird living room type place in that portal, but there definitely was a calendar on his wall. And I could tell from the date that ah who is Trixie kidding? I couldn’t possibly remember something as irrelevant as that sort of detail. Better just skip all that and get back to the story.

Daring, that’s not Trixie! When did Discord leave this message? I MUST KNOW.

I don’t know! It wasn’t there before I sent the edits! Is he intercepting our communications? I thought Dragonfire was secure?

Actually. This is good. Better than good. That looks like a coffee stain. A modern coffee stain.

Keep working, I’m chasing a lead.

Cozy Glow wasn’t an expert in human technology, nor pop culture. She’d only been over across the mirror a couple of times, and always under lock, key, and magical surveillance (as per her terms of parole under Princess Anarchy’s auspices). She had absolutely no idea what constituted ‘good’ music from a universe not her own.

But, at least to her mind, human Cozy Glow had some good taste, if the music-playing-machine her ape-like doppelganger sent over was any indication.

The formerly pint-sized pink terror slowly tapped her hooves to the odd, crunchy beat of some band called ‘Skullcrusher’, and found the wild fury of her soul somehow paradoxically tamed by the fury of the song.

If she listened to the music, she could almost tune out the sound of someling complaining in her general direction.

“Can we please listen to something else?”

Cozy frowned, and glared down from Anarchy’s pink-and-black bed where she and her dimensionally-borrowed music-player were still trying to groove. A slightly-less pint-sized green and blue changeling filly (nymph?) pouted on the floor, where she and Ann’s friend Cheese Slice Pie had been sitting, reading a book on particle physics.

No one ever questioned a Pie’s reading choices. Especially not within the Heart of Chaos, the very bedroom of Princess Anarchy herself.

It was very silly to question such things.

“What, got another one of those Bug albums?” Cozy sighed.

Chrysalis (formerly Queen, also formerly adult under the terms of her own parole) shook her head, and scooted closer to Cozy. “It’s the Beetles, and no! There are other bands I like from that human world!”

“Name one.”

“That’s beside the point!” Chrysalis snarled. Then, noticing the way Cheese half-turned to stare at her outburst, she grumbled and kicked at the carpet. “I mean… I guess? It’s my turn, anyway.”

“Is not!” Cozy snorted, a typical teenager.

“Is so!” Chrysalis snorted back, an atypical one.

“Is not!”

“Is so!”

“Is not!”

“Is so!”

The door to the room, currently found on the floor and in the shape of a submarine’s airlock (Chaos Realm, remember?), slammed open, cutting off the argument before it truly began.

“You never saw me!” Discord cried out, and charged through with a stack of folders and papers beneath one arm. He leapt over Cozy and the bed, and dove below Chrysalis and Cheese – made easier by the fact that the floor was more a guideline than an actual rule in this dimension – and charged towards one of the nearby stain-glass windows.

A window depicting Discord, fleeing from a platoon of Royal Guard. Odd, that.

As he got the window to open, and managed to get one leg up on the sill, he finally paused.

“Hm?” he asked, turning around. “Where’s Ann?”

Completely unfazed by Discord’s antics by this point, Cozy Glow simply tilted her head towards the wooden door drifting along one nearby wall at a 67% angle.

“Taffy room,” she said, and in an almost bored tone of voice. “What’s going on?”

“Twilight’s got a trace,” Discord said, quickly pulling open a nearby drawer as it skittered past. “I’ve got to get out of here before she can force me to explain myself!”

“Oh no,” Chrysalis smirked, rolling her eyes, “how awful!”

“It is!” Discord said while using his magic to snap up a couple of hot dogs, a flashlight made out of bees, and a scale model of a triangle completely made out of right angles out of the drawer before him, before he shoved them all into a suitcase. “I’ve been dragging this out on purpose! If she finds out now what I’m up to, EVERYTHING’S RUINED!”

Then, he looked back to children in the room, and whispered, “You never saw me!”

He backflipped out the window, and disappeared from view. A moment later, the sound of an engine roared to life, and a sleigh drawn by disembodied cat grins took off for parts unknown.

Little Cheese blinked, and dragged one hoof through his pink, frizzy mane. “Wow, that… wow. He looks worried.”

Chrysalis simply frowned at Cozy Glow. “This is why I don’t like visiting your place. At least my room only has three dimensions.”

Yet once again, their conversation was halted as something else interrupted.

A perfectly geometric, glowing purple hexagon, so perfectly precise in its design and its dimensions that the room – nay – the very Realm of Chaos itself began to tremble, appeared in the air above the floor, prompting Little Cheese to scoot several feet to one side as a veritable platoon of Equestrian Royal Guard, clad in their shiny gold and purple armor, materialized from the portal.

A grey-maned Flash Magnus hit the ‘ground’, and shouted, “Quickly! Secure the perimeter! We can’t let the fugitive get away again!”

“Sir!” a griffon molly snapped one talon to her helmet in a sharp salute. “There is no perimeter! I don’t think objective reality’s a fact here.”

Not even missing a beat, the old Pillar of Equestria laughed, and said, “Then secure the undefined spatial region of chaos we’re currently inhabiting! Come on Gertie, this isn’t your first rodeo!”

Cheese Pie, Cozy Glow, and Chrysalis all stared as if this was as routine as things got for all of them. Then again, considering all the strange things that kept happening these days, and that this was the literal Realm of Chaos… maybe it was?

Regardless, they unblinkingly turned towards the Taffy Door, and began a silent countdown.

Then, just as all three silently reached ‘Eight’, it also slammed open, allowing a creature that looked almost exactly like what you’d expect a perfect fusion of Discord and Fluttershy to look like to enter her bedroom.

“DID I MISS MY CAMEO!?” Anarchy cried out. “IS THE SCENE STILL GOING!?”

Twelve guards crashed down on her before she had a chance to say or do anything more in the chapter.

So, there I was. Just lying there, tied down, with a baby Discord sputtering on my bed with insane, time-paradox-caused ramblings. Swirly was back to normal, Discord’s magic apparently not working while his brain was doing whatever it was doing just then. My mouth was no longer zipped—

Also, I’ll remember that, Discord! Trixie hereby bans you from all her shows! Yes, even the ones you’ve already attended.

After a few moments, I considered interrupting his bizarre little trance. But then I’d have to talk to Discord again, and that wasn’t very high on my list of things to do that day. It was above getting nabbed by Troggles, but not by much.

And then, Discord screamed.

“Fluttershy!!!”

Yeah. Fluttershy.

WHAT.

Okay. No. WHAT? ANOTHER PARADOX?

Hold on, how come this one didn’t destroy the universe? I asked Starlight about it, but the explanation just made my head hurt. Somehow, all of Trixie’s little screwups and paradoxes are self-contained, a closed-loop if I remember right. So, unlike with Starlight’s original version of Starswirl’s time travel spell, no alternate universes or timelines will result from Trixie ANYTHING Trixie has done so far.

But Discord? Is it because Chaos can bend those rules? Is that how it works? I swear, once you have him, I want a solid hour with him in a dark room. I NEED ANSWERS!!!

Trixie didn’t really know what to say, or do. This pint-sized Discord just flipped his lid (literally, whole top of his head flew off for a bit. Surprised Swirly didn’t freak out over that but I guess he was all freaked-out), and started hyperventilating.

The more Time stuff I get involved in, the more I wonder just how much the creatures in my life already know. Or knew.

Did Discord know this whole time? Like, thousands of years? Then why be such a jerk for so much of it, to where he got turned to stone? Why make such a big production of things?

There I go. The Great and Powerful Trixie questioning somecreature else’s sense of showmareship. Whatever reasons he had, I suppose they’re his.

I asked him, “Hey, kid? You okay?”

Oof. Journal? The way he looked at me was like something I’ll never forget. Like he saw a movie monster right in front of—

ENOUGH.

What do you mean, enough?

I have been patient, Slave. I have allowed you room to elaborate on your ridiculous adventures, but you seem more interested in focusing on trivialities rather than tell me what I want to know.

How. Did. Grogar. Do. It?

Hey, this is my sssss—

*text damaged by pen slash, possibly due to Sombra’s psychic attack*

I will brook no more delay, Trixie. You will tell me the secrets I desire. And you will do so now. My Bell requires finishing.

These aren’t trivialities, dork! Life is trivialities! A whole heck of a lot of them, all in a sequence! You want to know what I know? Then you have to hear about it. All of i—

*another slash damages the text*

F~*/*i1ine!

Fine! I’ll speed up. Just, stop.

Please.

If he wasn’t already dead multiple times over, I’d like to kick Sombra in his stupid teeth.

It doesn’t matter all that much anyway. That conversation ended a few seconds later, after another bomb went off in the city. Gallopoli was always exploding at the time, what with Gusty and her crew being loose and uncaptured.

Oh, if I’d only known then what I know now!

Nothing would change all that much, actually. That’s kind of the problem.

What is?

This. ~~Trixie~~—

I’m trapped here, Sombra. Nothing I do can stop what’s already happened. But it kind of has? If not, I don’t know what was up with Aeva. All I know is, I’m just along for a ride at this point. Time flows one way. I can’t even convince you to stop this stupid plan of yours before you destroy yourself.

Or turn into a shadow monster. I’m still not sure what’s going on with you in that regard.

Simpleton! That’s the whole point of this! With your knowledge, I shall ascend! Just because you think me a monster does not mean that it is not the optimal path before me.

You’re really hopeless, you know that?

Since when do lions concern themselves with the opinions of sheep?

Shows what you know! I’m a pony, idiot!

…

Just… just finish the blasted story.

Trixie skips another couple of weeks here, and I almost pulled my own teeth out before I remembered that we had Starswirl to fill in the gaps! Huzzah!

I just wrote ‘huzzah’ into a block of text being read by a Princess of Equestria. I think this job is beginning to mess with me.

It’s true, we were interrupted at that point by an explosion. There were a lot of those happening in Gallopoli at the time, and it was by luck and luck alone that Trixie never caught on to how the Resistance could whip up so many explosives so quickly, when before we joined, they’d never been able to strike so many of Grogar’s assets so often.

I don’t think it takes a genius to figure out I was not actually performing all that much, in those days. No. Reverse-engineering Trixie’s magic rockets into high-grade explosives took up most of my time.

In retrospect, I wish I’d told her earlier, but I know she would have tried to stop me sooner if I had. She was always against joining, even though she was now our spiritual leader, of a sorts. You might be aware of Trixie’s crippling self-doubt, yes? I didn’t really understand it at the time, but she’s always had a dark place in her mind where confidence feared to tread.

During this time, Gusty, Melody, Guard, and I all tried to build as many explosives as we could. Recruit as many ponies as we could. The Resistance grew daily, but in order to keep Trixie (who was still wearing a magic suppressing ring for most of this, and was utterly miserable let me tell you!) from spoiling things, we fashioned a series of lies and stratagems to keep her busy.

In short: we pawned her off. First to Snuzzle and Blossom, who had Trixie work with them at the inn. She proved startlingly good at cooking for guests, but that plan fell through when somegriffon insulted her by adding salt to the pasta she made. Turns out, neither Snuzzle nor Blossom cared much for a mare who ladled their clientele.

Next, we asked Captain Flash Thunder to watch her. That could have gone better, since Flash was incredibly, stupendously abrasive under ideal circumstances. She was a diehard fanatic, as far as I remember her. More interested in Trixie’s tales of daring do (ha) than even Trixie herself was. I couldn’t believe it when Trixie begged me to get the Captain off of her case.

Turns out, ego-stroking can go too far.

Eventually, we had no choice. None of the other Resistance members knew about Discord then, and they surely wouldn’t have liked the idea of depending on Grogar’s own son to maintain our deception. But I had no choice in the matter.

Plus, he seemed to enjoy the heckling and tormenting he got up to with Trixie, as she herself notes when she took up the pen once again following Sombra’s threats.

Seriously. I want a piece of that jerk once you catch him. He’s got all kinds of explaining to do!

*some text lost to water damage*

“Why are you still here?” I asked him once, after a particularly long and trying day – he wouldn’t shut up, I had to spend time with Captain Flash “Crazy” Thunder filling out fake paperwork so Grogar’s Troggles wouldn’t card me, and my magic was still under quarantine for the time being.

“Well, if you must know, I’m under orders to find you,” he said.

Didn’t even make a big deal out of that bombshell. I think he was eating a pickle covered in chocolate frosting.

“What!?”

“Under orders,” he said, slower. “To find you. I’m not sure how much easier I can make this.”

For a moment, and just a moment, Trixie panicked. If Discord was here to spy on ~~us~~ the rebels, then we were all in very real danger.

Until Trixie thought about it a moment.

And then another.

About when Diet Discord polished off another pickle, I had a thought.

“Why haven’t you gone back then?” I asked. “Reported us?”

“I was under orders to find you,” he said again. “If Dad forgets to tell me to bring you back, or do something about you… well, that’s his fault, isn’t it?”

Of course. Of course, Discord would always adhere to the letter of the loophole.

Before I could ask about that, or anything really, an odd sound drew Trixie’s attention. It was so eerily familiar, so intoxicatingly sweet, that I nearly had a heart attack just standing in the marketpla—

Trixie.

This matters! This is exactly what you want to hear! Just give me a moment.

It was a sound that I had almost forgotten, hiding out in that inn. Sitting with a nutso pegasi Captain who had deluded herself with dreams of stamping on Grogar’s face. Walking around town with a baby sheep that kept flinching at shadows whenever a squad of Troggles (or that one freaky giant seapony) came around.

Starswirl got paler than usual, when he saw that bit again. Then he hissed, “Lady Rhapsody,” and I think a window pane shattered somewhere off in the palace.

I got a bad feeling about this.

That sound was applause.

There was a show! I’d almost forgotten what that sounded like! Most of the time, Gallopoli was a miserable place those days, what with the whole sun and moon thing.

Oh. Right. Um. The moon hadn’t done phases in a while by this point. And it got a bunch of ‘mad prophet’ types to start screaming at ponies in the town square. There was also something about the length of the day not changing, but you can’t expect Trixie to listen to such boring stuff whenever Joyous Guard decides to talk about literally anything.

I’m sure I don’t need to tell you just how intimidating it is getting to sit down and interview Princess Celestia about solar mechanics. She’s really something else. Like, she’s basically Equestria’s Mom, in a way. Ancient beyond all reason. Truly divine in the scope of her life.

But I was actually more surprised how down-to-earth she is! And so much better at explaining crazy arcane nonsense than someponies I know (three guesses who, but he wears bells). Trixie was obviously pressed for time there, but she’s clearly talking about how daylight shifts in length over the course of the year. It’s always been a bit of a mystery, to be honest. And until I had to do side-research for this project, I didn’t ever realize how many academics argued furiously over the question of why the length of a day isn’t consistent when it’s under the control of an all-powerful alicorn.

Apparently, the sun used to orbit the planet in an elliptical loop, way back when. Not sure why, but that’s how it was. Celestia normalized the days for a long time after this story happened, before suddenly reintroducing longer summer daylight hours and shorter winter ones some time after Luna’s banishment. According to the Princess, she went through a bit of a funk after that night, and kept the sun out for a solid week!

Once she’d come to her senses and realized she’d have to start moving the heavens again without Luna’s assistance, Celestia apparently changed the length of days throughout the year and started the Summer Sun Celebration as a way of reminding herself about “The Night the Sun Stood Still”, and everything it’d cost her and her sister.

Oof. Too serious. Back to Trixie.

“Well, fine,” Discord said, I think. I don’t really know. I was running too fast. He added something else at the end as well, like, “I guess we’re doing this now.” Maybe.

As I turned the corner, I had to duck behind a melon-vendor to avoid the small group of Troggles watching the show from the edge of the (actually kinda impressive) crowd. There had to be dozens of ponies and a few other creatures to boot! The Troggles themselves seemed confused by what they were watching, however.

Which, naturally, ended up being Swirly. Juggling a set of rubber balls through a hoop made out of (illusory) fire. And even half-distracted by the Troggles, I could tell he was doing the trick almost seventy-three percent as well as I would have.

“So… is that a wizard?” one Troggle asked another.

“Nah,” a second one said, “that’s a sorcerer. Completely different.”

“How is a wizard and a sorcerer different?” asked a third. “And if they’re not different, does that make them synonyms? And if they’re synonyms, does that mean we still have to arrest them like Lord Grogar said?”

The first one scowled.

“Um…” he said. “It’s something to do with hats.”

“Stop thinking, you gits,” a fourth one said, and Trixie’s blood ran cold when she heard him.

If you hadn’t read yourself up until this point, Journal, you’d never believe it.

It was that one Troggle Captain! The one at the guard post! The one who nearly sussed me out from before? No, not that one. The other one. I’d recognize that hat anywhere!

You’re talking to the Journal again.

“Um, aren’t we paid to think?” asked one of the lesser Troggles.

“You’re paid to follow orders,” the Captain sighed. “Thinking is just a side effect. Either way, that isn’t a wizard. Looks like a stage magician. Grogar hasn’t banned those yet.”

Trixie was never so happy to learn that cops in every era are dumb. If he’d recognized Swirly from this distance, we’d be in real, real trouble.

The Captain snorted, and started walking away. “Eh, I’ve seen this trick before. Let’s get some grub, you pigs.”

Trixie held her breath until the troop had marched back around the same corner she’d just run around.

But when I allowed myself a single second to sigh in relief, Discord happened again!

“You know…”

I hit my head on the stupid melon stand. Discord has a habit of just popping up when he’s least wanted.

“… if he had two more brain cells, they’d just fight.”

Again, I tried to ignore him, and focused back on the stage.

Except there was nothing there.

“Wait, there was a show!” I gasped. The stage was completely empty, bits of wafting smoke all that there was left of Swirly’s performance.

It was over. Just over! No fanfare! No encore!

I mean, besides the fact that Trixie was pretty sure Swirly had only gotten through a third of the routine! It was intolerable!

Something was ~~fishy.~~

Okay, considering what happened next, bad choice of words.

Trixie spotted Swirly’s hat bobbing away through the crowd, and I was bound and determined to get to the bottom of things. Where was he off to? This was entirely too suspicious. Even I was starting to suspect something off was going on–

Wait, off was going on? I really need to–

FINISH. THE. STORY.

Yeah, yeah!

Anway. Trixie started after her wayward apprentice, snarking Discord behind me all the while. Seriously, he’s the most annoying creature I’ve ever met.

Still. I guess I owe him one.

For just at that moment, the crowd began to thin. Trixie thought the lunch rush was ending, and she could track Swirly in relative peace, without having to juke back and forth around everypony in town. But, alas! No such luck.

The crowd was thinning because somecreature was coming the other direction. Somecreature that was big.

Like, really big.

“I don’t care for excuses, Captain!” Trixie could hear her voice before she saw her. “You see a pony using magic, the Emperor wishes to know about it! I don’t care if it’s a colt, a filly, a stage magician, or a clown!”

The Captain from just before was coming back again! That, Trixie knew, was bad.

What was worse was the way Discord grabbed my tail.

Though I nearly took his head off with a precision kick from my toned and mighty legs, and despite my better judgment, Trixie hesitated. There was something going on in little Ramcord’s eyes just then that actually started to worry me.

Discord smirks. He smiles. He snarls.

He doesn’t afraid. He doesn’t afraid of anything. Mostly cuz he’s too stupid. But little kid Discord? He’s not old enough to be his usual self.

Before I had a chance to ask what was wrong, the answer became clear.

Towering over the rest of the crowd, I could see the ‘She’ I’ve been expertly referring to all this time. A mountain of dark, rosy red scales. A slithering, hooved monstrosity from out of the scariest sort of comic books. A creature from ponykind’s collective nightmare!

It was a Siren.

It was THE Siren.

“Lady Rhapsody,” Discord whispered.

And that was the last thing I heard before the SNAP.

“I’m sorry, but the patient isn’t receiving visitors right now, miss. You and your friends will have to come back later.”

“We aren’t going anywhere.”

“Uh… well. I can leave your names with Miss Trixie, and when we restart visiting hours tomorrow, you can–”

“Listen, Pony…”

“Dagi…”

“... Listen… Nurse Match Stick… my sisters and I have come a very, very long way. It’s late. We’re tired. And we need to talk to Trixie right now. Before she..”

“Ahem.”

“... gets any worse.”

“Um… I can ask her if she wants to see you. But just for a moment.”

As the nurse pony rushed off to check in on her patient, Adagio Dazzle tilted her head towards the sister on her left.

“Happy, Sonata?” she asked.

“Don’t be rude, Dagi,” Sonata pouted. Then, crossing her forelegs - currently earth pony legs, as it so happened by the quirk of jumping through an extra-dimensional mirror these days - she added, “Not sure why we had to gallop over here so late.”

Aria Blaze, the third of the sisters, sighed. “Please don’t say ‘gallop’. I already miss my hands.”

“Least you got wings, Aria…”

Adagio half-spun about, and it was clear from the menacing look the recently transformed unicorn shot her sisters that she was not playing around today. Night. Tonight.

Sonata and Aria quieted quickly, but in the sullen silence that held, they clearly weren’t thrilled by their sister and nominal leader’s sudden obsession with seeing this… this pony-copy of a human they mostly just saw as a casual acquaintance back home.

She gave a little nod. ‘Good’, she seemed to say. She didn’t feel like explaining herself.

Not yet.

Not to them. To the one who was too young to remember, and the one who had clearly just forgotten.

“Trixie says she can see you. But only for a little bit, alright?”

Not until Adagio got her answers.

Not until she learned what happened to Mom…

Author's Note

And we're back! Apologies for the long hiatus. Holidays, COVID, and good old Depression wreak their own sort of havoc, don't they?

I just wanted to say... thank you. To everyone who's still reading. To those who are still excited to see where we're going from here. This hiatus has been... just bad. Really bad. Bad in a way that's very depressing to think about. I was in some dark places these past few months, dealing with stuff. But hopefully, with this update... at least a few things can turn around again.

If you're curious about whatever the heck was going on with Cozy, click here! And for whatever the heck-er was going on with Chrysalis, click here! There IS another story meant to cover some things in between those tales... but it also got hiatus'd because I foolishly jumped ahead of myself and no one read it! Oops!

Tune in next time for endless screaming nightmares! Yaaaaay!

Day 4: First Entry - I wanna go home...

To: Princess Twilight Sparkle, Ruler and Prime-Sextarch of Equestria, Alicorn Princess of the Sun, Moon, and Friendship, Equi Regina, etc, etc.
From: AK Yearling
Date: ~~1138 Celestial Era~~*, 25 Twilight Era
*sorry, old habits

Princess Twilight Sparkle:

The following journal extracts were recovered from dig site G1#1020-231986, “The Tomb of Gusty the Great” by local legend, and one proposed location of the mythical City of Tambelon.

And by ‘recovered’, I do mean that I stole them. Well, the famous archaeologist and adventurer, Daring Do, stole them. I will never stop being amazed at how nopony has ever managed to see through my disguise. I mean, really! Ahuizotl even wrote a book about it!

Anywhoo, Princess, I hope you appreciate this report, since it was you who ordered this whole cover-up, I presume to protect the time-space continuum or just Equestrian historical records. I really hope you do. Do you know how hard it is to find a foalsitter on short notice? Caballeron can’t cook, so he and our little

Sorry. I’m an author. I like to elaborate. They used to pay us by the word. So, since it’s gonna take me months to get through this report, I’m subjecting you to my old authorial tricks. I think it’s only fair.

So, the boring parts you’re somehow not interested in:

There was indeed a cult attempting to use Gusty’s Tomb to bring back Grogar and the city of Tambelon. Don’t worry, they didn’t get close. Suffice it to say, I stopped the ritual and ended up banishing them to the realm of darkness they’d sought to unleash upon ponykind (you can read about the entire encounter in my upcoming book, Daring Do and the Return of Tambelon!).

Old Gusty… I really couldn’t believe she was real, that Grogar was real! And I was standing in her tomb! It was very swanky. Very beautiful.

Was. Past tense. I told you that temples and tombs tend to explode around me, and this time it wasn’t my fault!

Anyway, I managed to rescue a couple of artifacts from the site before it went all pear-shaped. Don’t tell Applejack I said that. I know she’s a Pear, technically, but it wasn’t

I’m just gonna stop rambling now. The one artifact you were hoping to find was, in fact, there. I really can’t tell you how bizarre it is to hold a journal that’s older than Celestia and Luna… heck, older than Equestria by several centuries! And yet, if you were being honest with me, this was written by a mare that’s alive today? A time traveler?

I’ve seen weirder, so I don’t doubt you. Still. The fact that Trixie Lulamoon, of all ponies, got to go back in time and shape the very earliest myths and legends of our ancestors. Can’t help but have a slight sense of existential terror at the prospect, but then… here we are.

I’ll try and clean up the text as much as I can. It… looks beat up. Several pages look like they’ve taken extensive fire and water damage, in addition to the erosion of time. My experience with such ancient tomes should come in handy as I work to restore what I can. I know uncovering the mysteries of that ancient time… without having to deal with Trixie to get at them, has been a high priority of yours for years.

This report will be a mixture of Trixie’s personal writings she made in a journal while taking her extended chrono-vacation (though considering some of the things she got up to, I wouldn't call it that), as well as my own editorial notations and additions. Don’t worry, I’m just adding a bit here and there for when Trixie missed something big and obvious. You’d be surprised… how often that happens. Still, I’ll reign it in. You want Trixie’s account, not my interpretation of it.

Oh, and if you do end up rescinding the Blackout order on this thing? Could you let me write the forward?

AK Yearling

AKA Daring Do

~~Entry #1~~

~~The Journal of the Great and Powerful Trixie~~

~~Trixie, the Great and Powerful’s Diary~~

~~Diary of~~

~~Dear~~

~~To whom~~

*indecipherable scribbles*

*doodle of Starlight Glimmer (presumed), file attached to report in Author Notes*

Trixie wants to go home.

Day 5

Starlight, if you’re reading this, use your freaky magic time travel table and COME RESCUE ME!!!

The fact that I just waited ten minutes for you to pop out of a time portal and nothing happened does not fill me with confidence in our friendship. Heck, I’d take Princess Sparkle’s help right about now. I’d grovel for her help.

Just so we’re clear, the Great and Powerful Trixie only said that to see if Twilight would come and save her. The fact that she didn’t voids any and all groveling Trixie may or may not have promised.

Just in case this diary ends up in the hooves of somepony who can read it, Trixie would like them to know that none of this was Trixie’s fault. She would also appreciate it if they could warn me in the future about not cribbing my spell-homework off of Starlight Glimmer’s Time Travel notes. Just wait until Summer in the year 1113, Celestial Era, and…

*text smeared, water-damage*

… Friendship.

Well. In case somepony doesn’t warn me in time, I, the Great and Powerful Trixie, would like there to be some record of my disappearance, and what I’ve been up to in the meantime. If nothing else, it will give me something to do besides listen to everypony blather on in that silly Old Ponish accent.

Like, I get it! We’re all talking like Luna now!

So, where to start?

I had initially come to the Castle of Friendship, in Ponyville, in order to perform for Twilight Sparkle and my best friend and magical mentor, Starlight Glimmer. I’d finally perfected a foolproof “Disappear-Reappear” spell that would allow me to, well, disappear and reappear! I had the whole thing down pat.

On paper. I had it all down on paper. But the spell I used to base mine off of was one of Starlight’s Time Travel spells. I know that sounds dangerous, but it was the perfect means of letting me appear somewhere, and then vanish for several seconds without being detectable like if I was just invisible, or dealing with teleportation, which would look a lot less impressive in a show.

So, the problem with the spell was that it needed Twilight Sparkle’s magical Cutie-Mark Table thing she’s got stashed in her castle as a magical focus. Alright, it also just didn’t work right, so there may be more than one problem with the spell.

Anyway, I cast the spell, and then there was this wind that picked up in the castle. I thought maybe somepony had opened a window at first, but then it picked me up! And before I knew it, I was falling up into the air!

My showpony pride wouldn’t allow me to leave without bidding a hearty farewell, however. After all, while I knew I’d be back in a second or two from their perspective, I still had to sow the illusion.

“Ta-da!” I said, just as the swirling portal opened above me and sucked me in.

A second later, I was not back in the castle.

I was plummeting through a sea of clouds, rain, and fog towards a sea of trees.

Now, Trixie is a great and powerful showpony, and so her reflexes are like that of a Tiger. But even she can be taken off guard at times, and there’s not a whole heck of a lot you can do to counter a thirty-foot drop into a dense forest.

Luckily, the trees broke my fall. One branch after another snapped under Trixie, slowing her descent, and allowing me to expertly dive into a large bush on the forest floor. But this incredible maneuver required a lot of Trixie’s energy, and so she decided to take a nap then and there.

I don’t know how long I was out. That ~~crash~~ expert maneuver took a lot out of me. I was in a small clearing, surrounded by tall trees under a flat, grey sky. And there wasn’t a single speck of green magical time energy, or a portal of any sort that I could see.

~~Trixie doesn’t panic, but she will admit to being a bit worried at this point. She~~

I was so scared. I screamed and hollered at the sky for hours trying to just get somepony, anypony to hear me. Stupid Trixie. Stupid, stupid stupid stupid stupid.

Trixie obviously had no need to edit anything, so this sort of thing will pop up more as we go. Only once or twice does she purposefully scratch out something to prevent anypony from reading it later. Most of her self-edits are just angry scribbles.

Well, after realizing the portal wasn’t going to open, I decided that I had to get myself shelter, food, and all the other necessities if I were to devise a means of returning to where I’d come from.

That hasn’t happened yet. The devising part. I’m basically screwed.

So, with my steely resolve, I ~~resolved~~ decided to seek out the necessities of life first.

It took a while, but I was able to whip up a new wizard hat and cape. Sure, they were made out of leaves backed by twigs and grass, but living a hard life on the road has taught me many necessary skills, like costume design. I may not be as skilled as Rarity, but I can do plenty of repair work on my own.

With that out of the way, I now set out to find food and shelter.

Trixie, despite her esteemed pedigree as a showpony and wanderer, hasn’t had to rough it in quite some time, so many of her skills have, shall we say, atrophied due to her wild success as a magician and school counselor. I ended up spending three days scouring those stinking woods for food, and all I found were some berries, grass, and a few mushrooms I at first assumed were truffles.

They were not truffles. Not at all. They were fantastic, but not truffles. All those things did was make me lose a day and make me hungrier.

I got so desperate at one point that I even attempted to eat a rabbit. Yes, Trixie will admit to this most shameful of actions. Few know this, or at least will admit it in polite company, but we ponies can eat small amounts of meat, if desperate enough. And let me tell you, honey, I was that desperate. I’d learned how to prepare such a terrible meal from my first wanderer-teachers, right out of Celestia’s School.

I can still remember that old stallion, Grey Prancer, teaching me all about surviving the wilds. I think I still had soot on my coat from the Incident* that saw my time at the Unicorn school ended, and he was kind and understanding enough of my circumstances to teach me his secrets.

The only things I could find on Grey Prancer were open-warrants for vagrancy and a few old playbills from before I was born for a play called Less Misery, in which he appeared to play a tree. If Grey Prancer was anything more than a conpony and a wanderer, there's no record of it.

*Trixie's Official Transcript gives the following as the reason for her expulsion, quoted by one Miss Spellcaster, 3rd grade Magic instructor at the CSGU: "FIRE! SWEET CELESTIA HOW COULD ONE FILLY TORCH SO MUCH!?"

~~Trixie wishes sometimes she could remember what her father looked like, since all she can imagine is Prancer~~

Disregard, Swirly distracted me. I’ll get to him soon.

I would have caught this one little bugger too. But the impish creature was quick and clever, and some ingenious pony-survivalist had set up a nearly-invisible, expertly crafted snare just like Trixie’s in the same area, which caught me instead of the rabbit. There was nothing I could do to avoid the insidious trap, except for cut myself out of it later.

Discord helpfully alerted me to the fact that this particular rabbit was, apparently, the ancestor of Angel. Who the heck this "Angel" is, I don't know. I assume you'll have some idea as to what that Draconequus was talking about.

Still, I had just enough to not starve. Shelter was, by far, much harder to find. I just could not find a decent cave to save my life anywhere in that stupid forest, and had to make due with hiding from the constant rain under tree branches while keeping an eye out for predators.

Eugh, it really was my fourteenth birthday all over again.

I was feeling pretty poorly around this time. Don’t speak of this to anyone, Journal, but the Great and Powerful Trixie isn’t the mare most believe she is. True, Trixie is beloved by all of Equestria, but in truth she is little more than a stage magician. ~~Oh, I know plenty of~~ real ~~magic thanks to Starlight and Twilight, but~~

~~I know I’m a fraud.~~

*indecipherable scribbles*

Luckily, my time on the road, and in Starlight’s tutelage, has given me some other spells to fall back on. The one I started using the most then was a paper-fabrication spell. I went around all the trees I could hide under, and I spent a little magic turning the bark into paper so I could start my journal and stuff my cape and hat against the cold. It was far too wet to get a fire going, and my last attempts at heating-magic ended up with Twilight’s first-floor guest room bursting into flames.

Admittedly, that spell became redundant once I found

Oh, right.

Day 4, I finally found civilization! I had picked a random direction initially, once I’d pulled myself together enough to start traveling, and I was now rewarded with the sight of campfire smoke over the treetops! Oh, it filled the wanderer heart in me to see that.

*the following message is scribbled into the margins, same hornwriting, but pen instead of charcoal like the early entries*

I wish I’d never set hoof there. Maybe they’d still be alive.

This is called, Foreshadowing. Trixie will eventually go back through her journal and let loose some of her frustrations like this. It makes for an interesting read, at least as a writer myself.

~~Finally free of that forest, I found a frosty reception at the town’s fortifications following my foray out of the~~

I don’t know how Sparkle stands alliteration. It’s just annoying. Like her.

Seriously, what happened between you two? Even Caballeron and I weren't that snarky towards each other. Marriage came first. ;D

So, I took off from the ~~forest~~ woods, and made my way down the dirt path towards town. And, wow, this place is nothing like I expected. The walls, for one thing. Did not expect those. I’ve seen a few of the old, couple-hundred-year-old ones that they tell tourists not to touch in some cities, like Canterlot.

I’d never seen them ponied, however. With actual guards! Well, not until now. I also never saw ones that were more like a pile of earth backed up by wooden stacks, except for once in Vanhoover. But that was also a tourist trap. This town also looked a lot bigger than those dinky little frontier towns. At least, from the road it looked like it was about as big as Ponyville.

As I got nearer to the town, I could sense some hostility. Believe Trixie, when you’re as Great and Powerful a showpony as she is, you learn how to read a crowd, and a charging group of guards is definitely a hostile crowd. Over a dozen of the brutes surrounded me, and started aiming their spears.

These guards were dressed oddly. No gold armored unicorns here. They were all earth ponies wrapped up in leather with bronze caps. I could have sworn I’d seen that look in an old play or something, but when spears are that close to my face, I tend to gloss over details.

Anyway, they start shouting at me in Luna-speak. Which, while the Great and Powerful Trixie knows from her time at CSGU, she doesn’t use often, and so it took a few choice words on my part and theirs before I fully started translating what they were saying.

Don’t worry, I’ll translate into modern Ponish for the journal. Thank me later!

Two things: One, records from CSGU indicate that Trixie actually scored higher than Moondancer, Sunburst, and Twilight Sparkle in Old Ponish studies. In fact, it would seem Trixie can speak a variety of languages and dialects, to the point where I'd say she's a savant. Seriously, that's just... not fair. Princess Luna left me a note in a dream while I was writing this report. Apparently, Trixie now speaks Old Ponish with an accent since her time-hop. So that's neat.

Two: She had a year to listen to real Old Ponish. I know a few linguists who'd give their right hoof for that sort of insight into the foundation of our own language. And Trixie thinks she's doing us a favor by translating it!!! I can see why you hate her.

The lead pony was a big guy, with a bright blue coat and a raspberry pink mane. I actually thought he might be related to Mrs. Cake for a moment.

Anyway, he asked me, “Where did you come from? Who are you?”

“Who am I?” I asked, naturally curious as to how anypony could mistake the Great and Powerful Trixie for anypony else, “Why, I am the Great and Powerful Trixie! Mare of Mystery! The finest showpony to walk the roads of Equestria!”

That usually gets some sort of applause going, but for some reason these goofs didn’t seem to understand what I was saying.

“You’ve a pretty funny accent,” the guard captain said, “Where be this Equestria?”

I rolled my eyes at his ‘joke’. “Ha ha,” I said, sarcastically, “That’s funny. Now, can I come in or what? I haven’t had a decent bite to eat in three days!”

*page indecipherable, coffee stains*

First recorded instance of coffee in Equestrian history: 176 Celestial Era, in response to the Equestrian Government researchers finding a way to keep Celestia going through the night following her Assumption of the Moon in the wake of the Nightmare.

Approximate age of Trixie's coffee stain: 400 years before that.

I was panicking by this point. No Ponyville? No Equestria? This Bowtie fellow didn’t even seem to know who the Princesses were! I mean, sure, whoever heard of Twilight Sparkle, but Celestia!?

I fished out the lone possession I’d brought back with me, a small purse of bits I’d hidden in my mane. Let me tell you, that’s the most important thing you can hide on yourself. I wish I’d brought my cape and hat, but no use crying over split (sic) milk.

~~As soon as those ponies saw my bits, they were~~

~~Once my bits~~

~~I showed them the goods~~

Trixie’s not normally this way, I assure you.

The guards seemed dazzled by the money when I showed it to them.

“See!?” I said, really hoping by that point that I was entirely wrong about what had happened, “Celestia! Luna! Sun and Moon! Don’t you remember?”

Captain Bowtie just stared at the bit I gave him. At first, I was hoping he’d suddenly come to his senses. Then, he asked me how I’d come across so much gold.

I had to sit down when I heard that.

So, on the one hoof: I was in the past. I am in the past. I am trapped in the past, the past where the Sun and Moon move on their own, nopony has ever heard of Equestria, and where they don’t know about Hearth’s Warming, because that hasn’t happened yet.

On the other hoof, apparently thirty bits makes me one of the richest ponies in the world!

What records exist would indicate that the semi-historical Queen Mine Dust of the Golden Hoof was the richest pony of note in the pre-Classical era. Though she wouldn't be born for another century after the events of Trixie's Journal, if we used her by comparison, and took Trixie's at face value (ha!), Trixie might have been hauling around more gold than had ever been mined by pony-kind by that point.

Addendum: Starswirl the Bearded has confirmed that the gold value of thirty bits in those days (how old is he anyway?) would have made Trixie almost a millionaire by modern standards. Yet another reason to hate her.

No, I’m not stupid, Journal. Starlight even gave me a whole lecture on time travel once, after I’d pestered her for a few days. I just wish I could remember half of it. I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to mess with established events, but since I don’t really know what those are, I figure as long as I don’t try to break anything, it should work out until I can get back home.

In the meantime, time to live it up!

I needed a lie-down after I read that. We could have all blipped out of existence the second she said that, I hope you realize. Luna better visit my dreams tonight, because I need it.

Captain Bowtie Wishes was happy enough to let me into town once he saw that I was a rich unicorn. Apparently, Hyneighria’s been economically depressed for a while, so a little more cashflow wouldn’t hurt. He even gave me a tour of the place.

Hyneighria: An ancient, poorly attested settlement in archaic pony lore that was purported to be the hometown of Starswirl the Bearded. Best estimates by modern archaeological research puts its location somewhere in the immediate vicinity of the future Ponyville, though several millennia removed. And that's all from half a poem found carved into a rock in a cave some archaeologist found a century ago. If you ever let this stuff get officially published, it'll make academic heads explode.

And let me tell you, this place is kind of a dump. Even Ponyville was a ritzier joint, but then I guess that’s only to be expected of a primitive little town. The whole place is muddy, and all the buildings are like stone barns with wooden upper-floors added for the ponies to live, and everything is plastered white so it almost looks like Canterlot after a buckball riot.

Bowtie started pointing out places in town, but I really wasn’t paying attention. No offense to Bowtie, he seems like a nice stallion, but I was suddenly distracted by the fact that Applejack was minding a stall on the first corner. A peach stall.

I know! Applejack! Well, it looked like Applejack. Her face was like a clone of that mare, but her coat was a lot lighter, and her mane was this almost strawberry-pink color. I couldn’t believe it!

Everycreature complains about us ponies all looking alike except for mane-styles and cutie marks, and thinking about this bit makes even me wonder if they're right. Then again, I'm always told the Apples have ridiculously strong genetics, so it could just be an ancestor.

And then I was distracted again by a loud bang and a cloud of confetti. I thought for a second that Pinkie Pie had come back in time to get me, or that I had simply suffered a stroke and all ~~my friends~~ were starting to show up at the hospital.

Instead, I found myself staring at a unicorn ~~mare~~ filly really, with the exact same swirly pink man and light-blue coat as Bowtie, and her horn was blasting confetti and razzle-dazzle sounds like there was no tomorrow!

“Confound it Ribbon Wishes!” he’d cried out, clearly as exasperated at her antics as I was amazed (what? Can’t I admire a fellow performer’s skill?), “What have I told you about sneaking up on folk!?”

“Sorry Big Bro-tie, but I can’t pass up the chance to show off to a real Wizard!”

I liked this filly. Bright future, I could tell!

“Now, how in the hay can you tell she’s a wizard?” Bowtie asked, failing to mask how badly the magic-horn-confetti had spooked him.

I kinda miss Pinkie Pie, now that I think about it.

“The hat!” said little Ribbon, like it was the most simple concept in the world to grasp. And to be fair, it was.

Bowtie, stuffy as he seemed, I could tell he melted a little around his little sister, as he introduced her to me. She was thrilled to meet a Great and Powerful magician as myself, and I didn’t exactly dissuade her from calling me a wizard.

After all, if that Starswirl guy Twilight was gabbing on and on about was a Wizard, surely Trixie would equally qualify?

No. Even at the most generous, Trixie is not a Wizard by any stretch. A very talented illusionist, stage magician, and apparently wilderness survivalist, but not a Wizard.

Eventually, Ribbon was sent home to get dinner set up, as the Wishes siblings apparently lived alone. I didn’t prod too hard into the matter. Everypony needs a secret or two, and I know personally that stuff dealing with your parents is rough. ~~Especially when they leave and never come ba~~

But in the meantime, ‘Applejack’ had taken down her stall and vanished. I wasn’t entirely sure what I saw, and I didn’t want Bowtie to think I was crazy or anything, so I figured I’d just let him take me to their mayor.

~~Now, future reader of the words of the Grea~~

Right, that’s getting old. You’ve probably already heard of the mighty and magical exploits of the Great and Powerful Trixie, so I shall endeavor to cut down on that talk in this journal.

She fails. Not forever, but it's going to be a while until she breaks the third-pony habit.

Most of the town was hay-roofed barns of wood and stone, but for what its worth, the Mayor’s Manor was something else entirely. It was a large, stone building, more like a great hall than anything else. But on one side of the manor, it looked like they’d let a tree grow wildly out of control. The thing was like Ponyville’s old oak library (felt bad for Sparkle when it blew up, losing a home is hard, I know) but over twice as tall, and clearly lived-in!

“Finally impressed you with something?” I didn’t realize I’d been staring as Bowtie caught me off guard.

I blushed, and tried to recover, “It’s… it’s a very nice tree.”

Nailed it.

Bowtie just smiled and led me into the manor itself. The place was actually really nice. Not like Manehatten or Las Pegasus, but nice. Like a clean but otherwise modest hotel. The whole building was colored pink on the inside, which I’m sure is going to get old if I end up staying here a while. The captain left me alone in a little lobby for a few minutes, which gave me plenty of time to check out the furniture. You can always tell a place is nice if they take care of their furniture. Nopony checks furniture, so a lot of places think they can skimp on upkeep there.

An earth pony servant came in and offered a pot of tea. When I asked for coffee, the gray-coated mare* gave me this confused look. I was sure she heard me, so at first I didn't realize what was wrong. When I started describing what I was talking about (I even showed her a couple of coffee beans I’d found growing wild out in the forest), she asked me if I wanted a tea brewed from them.

*Holy Luna. I just realized she's a dead-ringer for an earth pony Derpy Hooves! What is up with this place!?

I said yes, and it was only after Merry Weather (I asked! The Great and Powerful Trixie is nothing if not kind to wait-staff) left that I started to think if I could remember the history of coffee.

Well, a little more caffeine couldn’t hurt these ancient ponies, right?

Finally, the Mayor showed up, and I may have lost my mind. The stroke-theory suddenly felt a lot more plausible, in any case.

“Sparkle!?” I cried as I watched the Princess waltz into the ~~lobby foyer, whatever.~~

Twilight was just as shocked as I was. “H-how do you know my name!?”

It was then that I got a good gander at the pony who was definitely not Twilight Sparkle. A unicorn, yes. But her coat was pink, instead of purple, and her mane was black with a purple stripe. More, her cutie mark was clearly a bunch of purple stars. Didn't make it any easier staring right at a color-corrected clone of the Princess.

“Mayor Sparkleshine,” Bowtie gasped, “I never told her your name.”

Cool, roll with it!

“Why, I am a Great and Powerful Magician!” I exclaimed, throwing down a quick smoke-spell and letting my admittedly makeshift cape billow behind me a moment.

Mayor Sparkleshine’s aide, a donkey, was clearly in awe of my stage-presence. “A… a wizard!?”

Ellipses show how he hesitated, so impressed was he by my amazing power.

As a writer, I hate both how Trixie writes, as well as how she isn't wrong... this time.

“Magician, Bray,” Sparkleshine corrected him, “She said magician. But the fact that you knew my name… where did you come from? There aren’t a lot of unicorn-settlements nearby, and your accent is so… strange.”

Bray is attested to in the ancient myths and legends of the Archaic Period. Nothing nice is said, especially after he joins forces with Grogar. Spoiler, I know, but you should really see the curses and explicit imagery Trixie's written and drawn into the margins around his name. "Traitor" is the only thing re-printable.

Oops. Trixie will admit she hadn’t thought of how to cover all of her great and powerful time-traveling quirks. Like the fact that the version of Old Ponish taught by my old CSGU teachers was apparently a rare dialect only Luna and presumably the ponies wherever she and Celestia were from spoke.

Official Ancient Alicorn Accent confirmed?

Again, roll with it.

“I am from a land very, very far away and full of magic,” I said, tipping my hat with a quick bit of telekinesis, “How else could I have known your name if not by magic?”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Sparkleshine gave me an odd look that reminded me so much of Twilight. She really does resemble her, like a lot!

Bray, the donkey, was also giving me an odd look. I think he might have had gas or something. But he just excused himself and left, apparently to visit his mother or something. I hardly noticed.

More explicit and unprintable language in the margins here. Trixie seems to wonder if she could use the Map Table to go back and do some unspeakable things to Bray here.

I explained myself the best I could to the mayor, going on about the forest and my traveling show (she seemed enthralled by the idea of a travelling wizard, to the point where I was seriously doubting how I could have mistaken her for Sparkle at all. Twilight, regardless of her accomplishments, is a terminal killjoy), while deftly skipping over the whole time-travel thing.

It helped that I could claim a bad teleportation experiment did it. Which wasn’t entirely untrue. But that was a mistake, since it turned out Sparkleshine is really into teleportation magic, at least the theory of it.

Yeah, they don’t have teleportation spells yet. And I just confirmed for this little bookworm-minor-noble that her research was going to one day work out. Or, one day originally. Now I’ve promised to teach her. Lucky me.

Anyway, it’s getting late, and I need my beauty rest. So I will hurry this last part up.

Trixie was able to whip up a list of all the things she would need to resume her travels. As much fun as it would be to lord my bits and my magic over everypony here, I know for a fact that would be a bad idea. Not only does lording over anypony never work out in the longterm, I kinda like the ponies here. Plus, as a traveling showpony, I can keep a low-profile and probably avoid altering history better than as a millionaire slumming it in this town.

See, Starlight? I learned something by listening to you.

Also, there’s no outhouses here. They just go in the fields! I don’t think I could look at these ponies for much longer knowing that! Knowing where their hooves have been.

Losing track, and paper. I

*coffee stains across page*

That was Merry Weather. I might have screwed up. She came into my room in the Tree-tower all jittery with my coffee. And then she spilled it on my new journal, freshly made.

Alright. I’ll be briefer this time.

It cost a few bits, but the town is more than happy to help me get a better outfit and a wagon set for traveling. I’m going to give a few shows here, then get out before I screw with time some more. I’m starting to see the downsides of introducing coffee to this time period.

But I am absolutely teaching them about toilet paper and outhouses tomorrow.

Goodnight, Journal.

Right, and before I forget, thank you for reminding me kid, I’ve met another little friend here. Apparently, Sparkleshine’s the mayor of this town, but she’s not the librarian like my Sparkle. So, she’s got a couple of ponies working in this Tree-tower doing just that.

And their kid is, admittedly, adorable, despite the way he pouts as I write and read this aloud to him. Apparently, he prefers Dark and Dangerous. Swirly is a little grey colt no bigger than those Cutie Mark Crusaders back home. He sounds like he’s a bigger fan of magic and wizards than even Ribbons was. So, as I’ve been settling in, he’s been bugging me for magic secrets and

From what you've said on how this whole adventure wrapped up, I'm going out on a limb here and guessing this Swirly is going to be a big deal down the line.

Just caught him checking my hat again. I pulled a bit out of there, and he’s been asking about pockets, transfiguration, and all that jazz. Yeah, he’s got the Moxy to be a magician. I’ll give him that.

But now I really do have to go to bed. I got a show to plan tomorrow.

Should be fewer and fewer notes from here on out. Don't want to repeat myself too often, and Trixie does get better about a lot of her anachronisms (the causing thereof).

Author's Note

Trixie's doodle of Starlight (Alleged)

An artist's quick mock-up of key ponies mentioned thus far.

If something looks different, it's because that's a thing that happened. This chapter should look a lot cleaner, like the rest of them.

Day 16 - I am a Poor, Wayfaring Pony

Day 16

Dear Journal,

It's been a bad week.

I used to talk with Starlight Glimmer about everything. Friends, especially Besties, should be able to talk to each other about anything and everything, and so we did. I remember talking to her about the Ursa incident, and she would roll her eyes and laugh with me about it. I'd talk about that time I went power-mad with the Alicorn Amulet and took over Ponyville, and she'd chuckle and compare notes.

But whenever she talked about the things she'd done, I could tell it was different. I was just embarrassed at how foalish I'd acted. Not Great or Powerful. Not Great or Powerful at all. Most of what I did could have happened in a silly fairy-tale show, put on by those puppets Felt Hoof ran back in Hyneighria.

An angry child. That's what I was. A child looking for attention.

Starlight didn't laugh off her sins. I can tell, living with her at the Palace, that she still thinks about it. That world of dust and death. I hear her, sometimes, crying in her sleep.

I get it, now. I truly, truly get it.

I knew about Our Town. Most ponies have heard rumors, at least, about Starlight's cult. I kinda wish I hadn't gotten curious about that world of dust and death, as Trixie calls it. I couldn't sleep, the night I asked Starlight herself about it. For what it's worth, I think she's in a good place these days, your old student. But, to come back from that?

I got the gist of what happened between you two. I don't know if I could have lived with myself after that. Good on you, for whatever you did to help her through it. I'd ask Trixie how she held up, once you've read this. She might need the same sort of support.

I know you're not a real creature, journal. But, hopefully, one day, somepony will be reading this. Somepony like Twilight or Starlight, and it's really to that being I'm talking to now.

Trixie is sorry. So, so sorry. Please, don't hate her for what's happened, once you know what she's done.

Trixie actually got an early start that first morning. She was up with the rooster, to a grey dawn and an early breakfast. Admirably, the Mayor's staff were already up at that un-Celestial hour of seven, so Trixie was not alone. Sparkleshine and Swirly joined me at breakfast, apparently having taken a walk even earlier.

I am starting to wonder if I'm not as early a riser as I suspect. In either case, they both showed off some of the magical abilities Trixie had taught them over the last few days. Swirly conjured up a whole book, right there in front of me! He'd been paying attention, it seemed. Granted, he still needed work. The book he'd made was pretty moldy, since he'd used wet bark and didn't dry it first, and the binding fell out since he didn't remember how to convert some of the wood to glue.

Still, an amazing first try.

Sparkleshine teleported a bit around the room. It was okay, I guess. If you like that sort of thing.

After breakfast was done, Trixie went to pack her things and make ready. I had a lot of traveling, and a lot of showplanning, to do. Couldn't slack off just because I was a Great and Powerful Wizard these days. And I couldn't guarantee there would be the same firework-materials in the next town, so I had to prepare.

While I was doing this, I noticed Swirly come down from his room near the top of the library. I tried, I truly, truly tried to not laugh. I Pinkie Promise, I did!

But he was so adorable!

"M-Miss Trixie?" he nervously called out to me from the doorway. I had my back turned, and pretended to be checking out the straps and buckles holding the wagon together outside of Sparkleshine's house. Looking away, and the motions I was making to sell the effect, were instrumental in preventing me from collapsing in a fit of laughter and awww'ing.

He tried again. "Miss Trixie? I... I wished to speak with you about something important."

I couldn't drag it out any longer, it seemed. So, I was forced to turn around, and face the little colt with dignity befitting a showpony such as myself.

Starswirl the Bearded, this kid was not. Besides the obvious height issue, and the lack of a beard, he was wearing what appeared to be a bright red cape dotted with gold stars. It looked hoof-stitched, and just as well as Ribbon's work on my own cape. The stars, however, were clearly stuck on with pins. The whole thing had that wonderful look of earnest amateur that we in the showbiz can't help but fall in love with.

"Miss Trixie? What's wrong with your face?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," Trixie said, betraying nothing of the raging storm of D'awww in my heart, "Now, pray tell, what's the matter?"

He shuffled his hooves a bit, nervous about whatever it was he was going to ask. And it was obvious he wanted to ask something.

I'd hate turning him down. I knew that right away. I hadn't known the kid for very long, but I could tell he was something special. He was quick, like Trixie, if a little stuffy like Twilight. And he had some funny ideas about pony tribes living together despite being friends, ostensibly, with pegasi and earth ponies. Heck, his dad was one!

Ostensibly was the last Word of the Day Sunburst shared with me. Also the first. I told him to cram it, after that one. But, Trixie supposes she shouldn't be too hard on the nerd. He made Starlight very happy. Insane, according to what she told me of her foalhood and the whole Our Town thing, but happy.

Very happy.

*Trixie has added a 'winky' face here*

How is Luster Dawn doing? I heard she and Trixie got involved in one of my other little girl's adventures? I think it was covered in Indeedy Do and the Alicorn Amulet. Don't worry, Indy was appropriately punished for messing about with ancient, cursed artifacts.

I'm not a hypocrite. I'm a mother.

Swirly seemed to finally swallow some courage, and I was actually impressed how he held himself. Met my eyes and everything, instead of my flank (yes, I noticed).

"O Great and Powerful Trixie. I, the lowly and humble Starswirl of Hyneighria, would be honored if you would take me on as your apprentice!"

I promise, I had no idea he was going to ask that. Not in a million years. Not that I wouldn't normally be thrilled to be the Great and Powerful Teacher of none other than Starswirl the Bearded (sans beard) himself! While I'd always wanted to pass my knowledge and skills onto a younger generation, a protégé, a student of my own, this was not how it would go.

For one thing, Starswirl was definitely in an older generation. So, there. And, besides that, I was still thinking about the night before, and how I already came this close to snuffing out probably half of Sparkle's library, or maybe Equestria itself!

But, Trixie knows her way around stallions and their silly pride. She knew she had to let him down, gently.

Can confirm. I sometimes let Caballeron open the pickle jar, just so he doesn't get all whiny.

"Listen," I said, lightly tousling the kid's mane a bit with my magic, "I have no doubt that you will grow up to become the greatest Wizard of all time."

His eyes sparkled, for a moment, but I could see he saw where this was heading. "But... you won't...?"

I shook my head, and ran an appreciable hoof along his cape's edge, "No. Trixie is going to be traveling. I can't..."

"But that means you'll need an assistant!" Swirly hopped a little bit in his excitement, "Somepony to help you out! To learn from you! To carry on your legacy once you're gone."

Rude.

"First off, the Great and Powerful Trixie ain't going nowhere!" I might have led a bit strongly with that one, but who just comes out and talks about dying like that!?

Either way, Trixie could see how Swirly'd stepped back from that one, so I toned it down. "Second... Starswirl, it's dangerous out there. And you've got so much more of your foalhood to enjoy here, with your friends."

"I don't really have friends," he said, glumly. "But if I went with you, I could be your apprentice. Your protégé!"

My heart ached, just a little bit. I love my Bestie, Starlight, but how cool would it have been to tell Princess Twilight that while she had Starlight as her first pupil, I had Starswirl the Bearded?

Still. It was for his own good. I couldn't risk him getting hurt. He was too important.

"Firefly, Ribbon, Sparkle," I started listing off ponies, "Seems like you've got plenty of friends."

"Grownups," Swirly grumbled. Then, he turned his little, puppy-dog eyes on me one more time. "Please, Master Trixie, I will do anything to be your student!"

I sized Swirly up again. Mostly for show, but I needed a moment to think. The kid was bound and determined to be my student. He knew Greatness and Powerfullness when he saw it. And, at least before I'd been shot back into the ancient past, he would eventually become a legend.

Maybe this was what he needed to become that?

"Tell you what," Trixie hid her grin masterfully, not wanting Swirly to realize I'd come up with a brilliant plan, "I'll come back around Hyneighria in... oh, let's say a couple months. A year or so at the outside. And the next time we meet, I promise, I will make you my Great and Powerful Apprentice."

"R-really?" there was that eye-sparkle again.

"Cross my heart, and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye," I said, even doing the hoof-motions.

~~Trixie~~

I was caught completely off-guard when he hugged me. As his forelegs wrapped around my neck, and his face sank into my shoulder, I tried to remember the last time I'd hugged somepony so close and tight. ~~Maybe Trixie's fifth birthday, when Dad came home~~

I didn't stop to think about it until later on. He was a unicorn in an earth pony town with exactly two other unicorns as into magic as he was. And the first pony to show up in his life that shared his interests had to be the Great and Powerful Trixie, of all possible ponies. It was no wonder Swirly had followed me around for three days. He was infatuated!

Trixie gave the kid a pat on the withers, and we parted as friends. He might have been crying, just a little. But, I have that effect on ponies. I'd hoped, at that moment, that if Starlight didn't come and rescue me, that I'd like nothing more than to come back and make good on my promise.

Funny how things turn out.

The town was in good spirits when I left. Sparkleshine and Swirly waved me off from her manor, and it seemed like everypony I passed on the road to the main gates was smiling at me. Ribbon passed me a little parcel with warm-weather clothes packed in it, and asked me to drop her name as casually as possible when (not if) other ponies asked me who did my wardrobe. I was truly amazed at the stitch-work! ~~If Ribbon had a different mane and face and age and~~

She wasn't a Rarity clone. Not sure when she'll show up, but I'm ready for it now.

But, in any case, Bowtie also wished me well, as did a giddy Peachy and her newly-public husband, Mal. They actually had some jarred peach and apple jam to give me on my way out. Not peach and apple. Peach and apple. Both, in the same jar. I've tried it since. Very sweet. Like, I can feel my teeth rot in my head when I smell the stuff.

Didn't see Bray anywhere, though. And nopony had seen him since he'd been run back into town. Oh well, I thought, some guys hold weird grudges.

Lastly, as I was getting on the road out of town and heading towards the forest, I took one last look around. Hyneighria sat behind me, warm smoke rising from its chimneys, and for a moment I wondered if I was doing the right thing. For a moment, I wondered if I could see myself settling down here, like I kinda did back in Ponyville. It wasn't a crazy idea, after all.

But, Trixie knew she couldn't. It might be a foal scout thing to teach kids to stay put when they're lost, but Trixie has learned at the hoof of those who know better.

If you're lost, keep moving until you're not.

How has she not been eaten yet?

Plus, there was no telling what could happen if I stuck around and messed with established events some more. Best to take a bow now and shuffle off-stage before I wound up in that stupid Hearth's Warming play.

Then again.

No, nevermind.

Trixie was snapped from her perfectly sane and not-time-destroying daydreaming by the sound of a wet sack burying itself in a mountain of stale crackers. And by that, I mean that Firefly crashed neatly into a crumpled pile at my hooves.

Once Trixie had stopped ~~screaming~~ reacting as would a tiger and making ready to pounce, I noted it was just the newly-rainbow-headed mare.

"Are...?" I asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yup," she said, pulling herself out of the little hole she'd made by the side of the road, missing my cart by about an inch, mind you, "Just getting used to the new do."

I was probably giving her a funny look at that remark, as Firefly chuckled, and said, "I, uh, I go a lot faster since that happened. Not sure what you did, or I did... but I just feel... faster, ya know?"

"Ah, yes. I see."

I had no idea. Magic? Magic was a safe bet.

"Aaanyway," she said, dragging out the word in a way I was starting to suspect was genetic by how much it reminded me of Dash, "I just wanted to give you a heads up. We spotted some storm clouds ahead, and I wanted to warn you before you got caught up in them. I'd say you got... like, four days before they hit if you're heading straight east."

"Straight east?" I tried reaching back into the wagon with my magic, looking for the map Sparkleshine had lent me, "But I thought I was supposed to swing north past the..."

Firefly made a disgusting sound with her mouth, and waved down my concern. "Nah! You don't need that stuff. Lemme tell ya, from my traveling experience, Gallopoli is a straight shot from here. Just keep heading east. Oh, and I asked Ribbon to give you some warmer clothes. Did ya get them?"

I nodded, which made Firefly smile. "Good. I'm thinkin' the weather's about to get... twenty-percent cooler than predicted. Just so you know."

I really didn't know how to answer any of that, but Firefly made it easier by just giving me a warm, pegasus hug and wishing me well.

It was a nice way to leave the town.

Trixie just wishes things had gone better from there.

Two days later (day 11, I guess), and I was lost. So, thanks a lot, Firefly. Turns out, it's a bad idea to take directions from a pegasus, since they don't use roads. I don't think she even realized you can't take a cart or wagon in a straight line ANYWHERE in a forest.

Trixie may be a great and powerful magician, survivalist, acrobat, a~~uthor, alchemist, pioneer, illusionist~~

I'm getting off track. I may have the skills to survive in the woods, but navigating them is something else entirely. Back in modern Equestria, wanderers and traveling ponies used signs and markers to find our way. I'm not about to compromise them here (Grey Prancer had me take the Oath for a reason), but they were super useful to know whenever you were alone and too far away from an inn or someplace dry to sleep (wagons are also super useful for this purpose).

Actually, since Trixie's adventure, the Nomad Marks, as they were sometimes known, have been published. They were also very popular for adventurers, archaeologists, and tomb robbers alike, so Caballeron and I know them like the back of our hooves. They basically look like more basic, pictographic Cutie Marks. A few mundane ones, useful in lots of situations, might be symbols for "Don't sleep here", "Snakes", and "Cave in". Trixie's list, according to my research, would also include more esoteric issues. Such as, "Do not make eye contact", "Magical anomalies", and "Avoid darkness".

There's also a few freaky ones out there that'd make for some spooky reading. "You are being watched" is especially unfun to find while on a dig. As is "Get out fast", "Vanished friend", and "Does not stay dead". And Celestia help you if you're halfway through a creepy tomb or lost city, and you catch a glimpse of "Signs have been compromised".

Point is, I was lost. And quickly. Stupid rainbow pony.

Now, it wasn't all a horrendous waste of time that I would certainly seek vengeance for one day. No, no, no. I had a couple days to practice my act and get some ideas rolling. For instance, I used a little charm to steal the 'red' off of some berries, and magically fused the color into my hat and cape. Sure, it took a few ~~dozen~~ hundred berries to get the right shade of purple, but it was worth it!

While Trixie is technically a CSGU drop-out, she's actually rated as one of the top Spell-Crafters in Equestria. She really has a good head for taking apart better or more traditional spells, and re-purposes parts of them for her own ends.

And, as has been noted, her skill in such magic seems to be oddly proportional to how difficult the spell should be. I chalk it up to her being too thick-skulled to realize how difficult mane magic and illusions ought to be for most mages. The fact that her basic defense magic, telekinesis, and light spells are so... mundane, should almost be proof of that.

The storm was looking to catch up to me by this point, which was approaching true twilight, and it was only by chance that I noticed a wide, open clearing somewhere up ahead. Finally! I'd been dragging that wagon over rocks and tree-roots for ages looking for a nice bit of flat ground to settle on. It was like a dream come true for my aching hooves!

The clearing was only just big enough to hide the wagon in. From what I could tell, the only reason I'd seen the place was because a bit of wind had brushed some of the thick brambles and undergrowth aside as I approached. Trixie tossed a quick illusion over the entrance, to make sure nopony got the bright idea to sneak up on me later. My wagon had made the entrance a bit more obvious by flattening down the grass, so all I had to do was prop that up and make it look like it was a touch thicker. I don't like sharing. Not with bears and wolves and whatever else was in this Everfree knockoff.

~~Trixie knew, of course, that this~~ was ~~the actual Everfree. She was just testing you, reader~~

I had plenty of food, but foraging was still a good idea, so Trixie tagged her wagon with a locator spell and began walking into the nearby treeline. She planned to go about a hundred yards, no more, and just pick up whatever she could that was edible.

No rabbits, thank Luna. Trixie also wasn't that desperate this time. She did find some remarkable yellow berries. They appeared to be a type called Aliantha berries. For those in the know, these things were almost currency in some wanderer circles, and I found a whole bush of them. They're tasty, numb head and hoof aches, and if you mix them with a little bit of chocolate they'll stop you needing to stop too often on the road!

I really didn't need to know about itinerant ponies' Antidiarrheals. That wasn't in the job description for being your personal researcher.

They did turn out to be Aliantha, so Trixie didn't poison herself this time. And, as a bonus, she found another bunch of those wonderful mushrooms from before!

I didn't eat those, of course. Not yet. Those were for later. Like, a weekend with friends. And pizza. And some good cider.

That was what I found only a few feet into the woods. There was no telling what I'd find after a couple more.

Except then, I found Hyneighria.

"Oh, come ON!" I remember kicking at a tree stump, only managing to hurt my hoof in the process. Yes, I had somehow swung completely around, and was now looking at the eastern side of the town. ~~Of all the stupid~~

~~I swore if I ever caught that red~~

~~SON OF A B~~

Right. Calm. Still a little peeved off.

But, I wasn't for long, then. I stomped about and swore. I kicked at things I thought I could kick. I promised myself that I'd do some truly despicable things to Firefly's house, like leave a flaming bag of something on her porch.

But I didn't.

Because at that moment, I finally noticed something. There had been an odd look to the stormclouds coming in. They hadn't dropped rain yet. Not too strange, Trixie will grant you. The real trouble came from the fact that the clouds suddenly dipped down to the ground. Right into the center of Hyneighria's town square, in fact.

If the outer walls hadn't collapsed at that moment from some titanic blow, I'd probably have kept snarling about getting petty, foalish revenge. Instead, I was witness to Hyneighria's holocaust.

As the walls fell, I could see the whole town ablaze. How I could not have heard the sounds? Smelled the fire and burning? Was the forest's musk so pungent? Could I have just been in denial?

I don't know. Trixie will never know. From her vantage point, she could never forget the things she saw. There were pigs, rampaging through the streets, a torch on one tusk and a sword on the other. For a moment, Trixie's familiarity with fireworks and flammables came back in a flash, and I wondered how screwed up must their nightvision be to have fire so close to their eyes?

I stopped thinking about that after a few seconds, when I saw Felt Hoof running from two pursuing Troggles. I don't know if it was just my imagination, seeing as how I was too far away to really tell if it was him, but I would swear even now that I saw his puppets burning on his forelegs even as he ran.

He didn't get far. Troggles, now that I thought about it, were so much faster. Trixie looked away from that butchery, but she couldn't unsee it, nor what else was going on. Fire consumed everything, and Troggles slew everything and everypony else. I didn't see any of my friends, but that didn't mean anything. The worst thing I was prepared to deal with was unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies not getting along.

~~I didn't know this~~

Sparkleshine's house was ablaze. The library too. I don't remember if I cried. All I remember is that I didn't try to help.

Trixie was rooted in place. My whole body seized up as I took in the slaughter. I could hear them screaming, too. But nothing happened. My legs wouldn't go. My body and my mind had decided to hold still. Maybe they wouldn't see me? Was that what went through my head just then?

Minutes passed before I could so much as blink. But, eventually, I had to turn around and run. There was nothing else to do. I wasn't a hero. I wasn't an Element of Harmony. I wasn't an Alicorn Princess.

I wasn't a Wizard. I wasn't Great or Powerful. Trixie is just a showmare, an illusionist. I entertain ponies and distract them from their everyday woes, I don't fight monsters! And the one time I did, I got captured anyway.

The Troggles didn't look like they were taking prisoners.

I don't think I would have handled that any differently than Trixie. Casual violence just isn't a thing among ponies in this day and age. Seeing it on that scale?

Now, I know you told me once that you saw how the whole Nightmare Moon event played out, but whatever that was, it wasn't the whole story. If that vision you had was all there was, then why is there so much archaeological evidence and eye-witness testimony about a war between Luna and Celestia?

According to Luna herself, the final battle between her and Celestia took place after a protracted siege and a months-long campaign waged between Batpony and the precursor military forces to the EUP. Apparently, that was the last large-scale war fought on Equestrian soil, partly due to Celestia withdrawing from foreign entanglements during Luna's Abeyance. So, outside of a few battles here and there, and mostly just policing duties, we ponies haven't seen a real war in over a millennium.

And yet, Trixie saw something like this up close. She watched ponies she cared for getting slaughtered. Gives you a new perspective on some things.

Back at my little camp, I tossed everything together as quick as I could. Trixie was getting the hay out of there, and nothing was going to stop her. Except for a frustratingly loose hinge on the straps that, in her ~~panic~~ ~~concern~~ panic, she couldn't quite get under control with her hooves, having somewhat forgotten how to magic at the moment.

Also, except for the sound of hooves. And claws. I heard the hooves first, a small set of them, rushing past my little hiding spot. I held my breath as they approached, but as I glimpsed who it was, my heart nearly exploded out of my chest.

Swirly! Swirly was alive!

And being chased by a manticore, a satyr, and a centaur. Each one was armed, and snarling with wicked laughter. Trixie felt like she swallowed her tongue as she saw them. ~~It was like~~

I remember Tirek. That was such a horrifying experience the first time around. I couldn't do it again. Being left a husk on the side of the road, without a shred of my magic left to me. I didn't know if all centaurs could do that, and I didn't want to find out.

Tirek, as it happens, is quite unique among his people. I know the Centaur and Gargoyle Kingdom is very secluded and isolationist, but I've had to take more than a few pitstops there during my own travels. Tirek is regarded as a true monster back home.

According to a medical report filed in the wake of Tirek's rampage, it seems that Trixie was found by some forest rangers in the Smokey Woods a few days after your fight with the centaur. She was transferred to Mareland General Hospital to treat severe malnutrition and several lacerations all across her body. Apparently, after Tirek absorbed her magic and left her in the woods, she managed to drag herself back to civilization, though it took a toll on Trixie. I'm not sure if she ever had a chance to process that experience, since she broke herself out of the hospital before they could contact a therapist.

But Swirly was alive.

And I didn't move a muscle. Again, the ~~sight~~ thought of danger had rooted me to the ground. I could see the fire, and the smoke when I closed my eyes. I could hear the screams. I could see Felt Hoof, running for his life.

The monsters' laughter faded into the distance. All I could hear was the wind, and the rustle of the trees around me. The world was still. As still as a body. As quiet as the grave. But just at the edge of my senses, there was one sound. A single, terrified cry that spoke up and over the rustling of the trees, and the whipping of the wind.

It was Swirly. I could hear him. And he was scared.

That, my dear journal, is when something in me snapped. I became Trixie Lulamoon, the Great and Powerful. For a moment, I was a mare possessed, grabbing up rope and smoke pellets, and even some of Ribbon's straight-jackets she'd made for me. Trixie just stopped thinking about it as 'monsters attacking a foal'. She started thinking about 'how great a show she was about to put on'!

Tracking the brutes wouldn't be a problem, I knew. They weren't being careful. Trixie had hunted before, being a forager since she could travel. Now, I could put those skills to real use.

Swiftly, I raced after the monsters. Their claws had left deep gouges in the earth I could have tracked blindfolded, had it been bright daylight. As it happened, it was now definitely night. And so, as I ran, I let loose a special tracking spell. Most would need a magical signature, or a predictive matrix built into a heat-detection spell. That's what Princess Sparkle would have done.

Trixie is not Princess Sparkle. And so, all she did was run a leveled light spell out ahead of her, allowing it to trace the ground. Every bump and inconsistency flared to pink life as my magic touched it. Those three couldn't lose me even if they knew I was on their trail!

~~I raced along the forest floor, following the fiends' florescent footprints~~

I raced after them, my hooves pounding the earth as my heart pounded in my ears. But Swirly's pursuers had followed him out of the mud and over some harder ground. Tree-roots bubbled up here suddenly, leaving me to guess bedrock wasn't far below. But that meant the tracks were shallower and shallower. My spell worked like a height map, and when the ground leveled out too much, I would lose them!

But, just ahead of me was a tall, tall tree. From up atop its branches, I was sure to spot them, so I charged! I cast a spell as I ran, one usually meant to allow non-pegasi to walk on clouds. Now, this spell is usually pretty simple, and fairly cost-effective. But I was in a hurry, and I only needed one part of the spell right then.

I only cast one part of the spell, the bit that helped change a unicorn's weight so that a cloud could hold you up longer. Normally, this was a waste of a spell for most unicorns. But that was because most unicorns were lazy, and liked books more than a good jog.

All I needed right then was to be light enough when I reached the tree that my momentum would get me most of the way once I'd ran into it, my hooves sticking to the bark through sheer inertia. I ran up that tree, and sailed up into the night sky! Trixie had done it again!

I cast an eye about, and spotted my adversaries in no time! They had stopped mere yards away, in a small clearing, with a cowering Swirly at the monsters' mercy. Trixie came back down, hardly disturbing the tree branch she landed on. And with all the grace and skill I'd developed as a showmare, I leaped from tree to tree, from branch to branch.

All I had to do was get there.

Trixie readied her smoke pellets, holding them up in my magic as I leaped to the last branch.

Below me, the three monsters loomed over Swirly's prone body. The colt had tripped, and lay sprawled and ~~insens~~ ~~unconc~~ pretty well banged up. I almost cried out to him, but years of showmareship had taught me a few things about timing. And my cue was coming up.

But that was when I saw the three monsters up close. The centaur wasn't anything special, just some thug with too big a head and gut for his own good. Sharp swords, mind. I hadn't seen a manticore that could talk, or hold a spear with his tail, but then there's always something new out there.

The satyr, however. That gave Trixie pause. He wasn't the same as Tirek. No, not nearly the right number of hooves. But he was painted black and red. A bit edgy, if you ask me, but somecreatures like being wrong.

If you'll recall Dash and AJ's wedding, Rarity spent about an hour going over how black and red is the all-time worst color combination in existence. You had managed to ditch us (traitor), but she really opened up about her spa dates with Starlight and Trixie. I guess some of her fashion sense rubbed off. Or, Trixie actually has taste, but let's not go crazy!

Still, for a moment, Trixie's knees felt weak.

Then, he spoke. "Are we taking this one alive?" he asked his companions, all of whom were laughing at Swirly's vain attempt to conjure even a basic self-defense charm. He was tired. He was probably concussed by how he wobbled on his hooves.

Something boiled inside Trixie at those words. Something I still don't know what, but it angered me in a way that nopony ever had, Sparkle included!

"You're not taking him at all!" I shouted, suddenly not too terribly concerned if they spotted me. Trixie bit down on her tongue.

The monsters looked about as they heard me. The tree canopy had muffled my words a bit, I was sure, and it probably sounded like I was all around them. That was good, I thought. Very good.

"Who's there?" the manticore snarled, "Who stands against the will of Grogar?"

Well. In for a penny.

"Who am I?" I tossed the smoke pellets up into the air, and flared my horn's magic, "What a foalish question!"

The pellets exploded, showering the small glade in a hazy fog. Trixie quickly cast another spell of her own devising, allowing her eyes to filter out the smoke. She learned that one when she tried to join the Canterlot Fire Brigade. Long story, don't ask, it was a phase.

She thought she was going to work with the "hunky calendar stallions", and quit after two days when she discovered otherwise. I believe this was one of the odd-jobs she took to buy that stupid Alicorn Amulet, in addition to working the Pie Rock Farm. Speaking of which, isn't she Maud Pie's kid's Crystaler? Or, whatever Ponyville's equivalent is?

"I am the terror that canters in the night!"

~~Trixie had absolutely no idea what she was saying, journal. I was basically running on pure adrenaline and terror by this point~~

The beasts were startled, like mere foals before my rousing performance! I prepared another smoke pellet in my magic, when disaster struck.

As it turns out, I'd forgotten that my weight-lightener spell had a rather severe time-limit. The branch under me cracked, and I lost control of the pellet! It plummeted below me, and Trixie fell right after it, but I managed to wrap my hooves around the branch and held on for dear life.

And, naturally, the branch did not hold back. The whole stinking thing snapped off, and I went tumbling down with it. I could see my life flash before my eyes as I fell. Admittedly, Trixie's life is a stunning cavalcade of adventure and intrigue, so she was thoroughly entertained during her freefall.

Less entertaining was the realization that my saddlebag, full of smoke pellets, rope, and even a few of my props (I was in a hurry, don't judge, Journal), had gone flying when I snagged hold of the branch.

The pellet hit first, I knew from the sound of it bursting below me. I hit the ground a moment later, no clue where my other equipment had gone. There was an awful cracking sound as I landed, and it took a moment to realize I hadn't broken my spine. Through a fog of pain radiating from my flank, I looked up into the face of a manticore.

A manticore that had, up until that moment, been planning on attacking whoever it found in my accidental smoke cloud. Now? Well. That was a heavy branch, and that manticore clearly didn't have a thick enough skull. The branch lay atop his stupid, bulging-eyed face, some sort of muscle-reflex being the only thing now holding the unconscious manticore up on his paws.

Realizing what was up, I rolled back onto my hooves, though I knew I'd be feeling that one in the morning. No amount of padding or magic would help me with that. I glanced through the smoke, and realized the satyr and centaur were staring in my direction, but that my ~~Hazy Eye would let me see them, while all they could do was not see me~~

I had the magic eye thing, okay?

Trixie knew she didn't have long. Before the smoke cleared, she needed cover. The manticore wouldn't cut it, and while Trixie is indeed a Great and Powerful magician, she will admit that she couldn't quite replicate Starlight's invisibility spell on demand. Not without a mana battery the size of her wagon, anyway.

Seriously, Starlight? If you ever read this, try coming up with spells that don't have to blunt-force their way to working through stupid amounts of energy? There's a reason only you and Twilight can cast half of what you've come up with!

Yet another instance of Trixie's callous disregard for her friends' feelings on display. I understand that you, when you were a unicorn, and Starlight both suffer from Record's Syndrome, which causes mana-channels to be stuck perpetually open in unicorns. Can lead to enormous magical reserves, but also uncontrollable magic surges post-foalhood and some lingering pain and nerve-damage in old age.

So, yeah. Trixie's still kind of a jerk.

So, Trixie threw up a much simpler illusion. She became nothing more than a regular bush. Just a jumble of palm fronds and berries, perfectly undetectable in the Everfree. And as the smoke cleared, the satyr and centaur could only look in horror at the crumpled form of their companion, slumped down beneath the broken tree branch.

“I am the sticky floor of justice, that makes you self-conscious about being noisy in a theater!”

Seriously, I have no idea where I was coming up with this stuff, but from the concerned looks on the remaining two monsters' faces, it was worth it!

And then, my bag of smoke pellets reappeared. I guess they'd been flung pretty high up during my fall, because they all came down at once, right on top of the satyr's head. In a blast of alchemical ingenuity, the bag flooded the clearing instantly, completely enveloping the monsters.

Trixie knew this was her chance! I dropped the disguise, and made a sprint for Swirly. Only, there were two problems with that. In the first place, there were still two monsters standing in my way.

And in the second? I hadn't just been carrying smoke pellets, recall. And at that moment, the rest of the supplies I'd grabbed before rained down. Only, instead of landing on the confused and panicking satyr and centaur, Trixie suddenly found a coil of rope, two straight-jackets stitched by Ribbon Wishes herself, and a couple of iron hoofcuffs the local farrier had whipped up for her crashing into my face!

Trixie's "accent" or "word tick" or "mental illness" grates on me, as a writer. I can't even begin to imagine what it's like to listen to her all day, every day. Starlight and Starswirl must have the patience of saints.

I panicked. I might have even whinnied, though Swirly heard none of that. I tripped, and went tumbling, head over hooves, straight into the mass of smoke! From what I could tell, I definitely crashed into one or both of the monsters, and I absolutely went bounding up into the air from the impact.

Turns out, ponies bounce. Who knew?

But, Trixie wasn't completely done for! As she descended back down, I cast the lighten-me-up spell (yeah, I still need a name). It wouldn't let me walk along the top of my smoke cloud like a real pegasus, but it would slow me down enough so that I could at least not break my legs.

It also bought me a few seconds to note what was happening below me. All of my stuff had been thrown off of me, and had now entangled both the satyr and the centaur. They flailed and shrieked as they tried to disentangle themselves, only managing to get more stuck as I watched, utterly flabergasted!

I'd never had something like that work out in my favor before. The two monsters began slapping each other around in their effort to fight free, and Trixie was allowed to watch them bludgeon each other senseless by the time ~~she'd~~ I had drifted through the smoke down to the ground again.

Trixie is, after all, a showmare, and so could you really blame me for hopping atop the tangled and beaten monsters? Nopony worth their magic hat and Guild Membership would dream of missing out on what was about to happen.

As the smoke cleared, Swirly beheld my radiance! I stood atop a pile of unconscious monsters, apparently unharmed.

“I am,” Trixie cried, standing on her hind legs, hoof-stitched purple cape dancing in the wind, “The Great and POWERFUL…!”

"TRIXIE!?"

Swirly's cry snapped me out of whatever fever-dream I'd stumbled into. It also caused Trixie to lose her balance and tumble down to the forest floor. He was lucky I didn't crack my horn, the way I fell.

But all that was just a quick flash of stupid, stupid Trixie thinking. Because in the next instant, my whole body flooded with relief. I couldn't believe I'd just done that. I couldn't believe Swirly was alright!

And then, then it was all too real again, as a tiny colt wrapped his forelegs around me in an ironclad hug, and his tears flowed like rivers. Gone was the brave little stallion I'd seen in him back at his village. There was just a sobbing child, weeping into my coat.

What else could I do? I hugged him back.

There wasn't anything else I could do for him.

"Trixie," he gasped between sobs, "They... they killed everypony..."

"I know. I know."

"My..." he swallowed, hard. It took him another minute, all crying, before he could work some words together again. "My family... my brothers... Mom and Dad... He killed them!"

"Who?" I asked. I squeezed him tighter, wishing, wishing, wishing this had all just been a nightmare.

Swirly looked up at me. He was a complete mess. His cape had been shredded by thorns, and lightly burned in places. His eyes were red and tears streaked his face. Snot poured out his nose, and I could tell his whole face just wanted to keep screaming, keep howling in pain.

~~What had been done to him~~

What I had done to him would echo forever, I knew.

"Bray," he finally uttered, taking another deep breath, "It was Bray. He led the Troggles in. He... when Mom wouldn't tell them where you were..."

I won't repeat what he said. Some details are best left forgotten. All that was important, all that would ever be important, was that Trixie Lulamoon had doomed a village. And Starswirl's mother, Page Turner, a unicorn mare from Roam, who liked reading books about far-off places she would never see, and who spoke six languages, and who taught the fillies and colts of her village for free, and who laughed at jokes you weren't sure she understood but just wanted to laugh for its own sake, who was a blessed light to those around her, was dead.

And I killed her. I killed her husband. I killed two of her sons. Bray held the sword. But Trixie made him swing.

Trixie couldn't cry. She couldn't ever cry again. She had no right. But she accepted Swirly's crying. I held him close, and I swore then, I would never let go.

This is hard to read. As an archaeologist and historian, I'm used to a lot of the bloodier, nastier parts of Equestria that doesn't get a lot of time or space in the plays and stories we tell ourselves. But, those dusty old tomes happened to ponies long dead. Ponies I'll never meet.

But, I know Trixie, at least a little. I can't imagine what she went through seeing all that. I can't imagine what Starswirl went through.

Your student, Celeste, came by while I was going over my notes on this part. I think she might have caught a glimpse. I don't know if I would show her it. But, that's really not my call. Maybe it's not your call, pardon the insubordination. I spent a long, long night holding my kids after this. They thought I was just being sentimental after the whole Grogar-cult thing. I don't know why I'm telling you that, but here we are.

I brought Swirly back to my campsite, and made sure that nocreature could follow us. There's a lot of spells unicorns use to control the weather when there's not enough pegasi living nearby, so I just re-purposed one to create a little, focused breeze to clear up our hoofprints in the dirt, and I reapplied the illusion spells to keep our camp a secret.

Really had no choice about it. There'd be Troggles about tonight, but by morning they'd have moved on, chasing after their companions' fears of a magical mare who'd made off with their prey.

I got Swirly tucked in as soon as I could. Trixie can't blame the kid for crying as much as he did, and so she let him. He eventually ran out of energy. Even hiccuping stopped after a while. He needed sleep, as much as I knew he didn't want to. He hardly spoke to me all night.

Of course not. Grogar was looking for a Wizard. Bray had sold out Hyneighria to help his master capture a Wizard. Because it was a Wizard, a Great and Powerful practitioner of the mystic arts, who was prophesied to defeat him. That's the most I got out of Swirly from before, and there wasn't a whole lot of reasons to think that had changed.

So, Bray had told Grogar about Trixie. And because Trixie had to show off, Hyneighria burned.

Deciding it would be easier to hear a patrol coming by if we were outside, I set up a little tent and blankets next to the wagon. After Swirly had gone to bed, I sat besides him, and spent a long, long night thinking. There was a lot to think about.

But, eventually, the nightmares wouldn't let him be. Swirly woke up a few times during the night.

I heard him, one time, whisper, "Mom," as he did so. In the silence that followed, I could hear him crying into his pillow.

He didn't deserve any of this. I bet Starswirl was supposed to live a long, happy life in his tree-library. I bet his mom would have lived to see her little colt grow into the best Wizard who ever lived.

There was nothing I could do for him, except be there. Trixie scooted as close as she could to him. I wrapped him in another hug, and as my mind raced for something, anything to give him even a little peace, I remembered a song my mother sang to me, whenever I was sick, or whenever I wasn't feeling as Great and Powerful as I thought I could be.

I sang my mother's song to Swirly. It was strange, being the one singing to another. I hoped my voice wouldn't crack, and luckily it didn't. Trixie knows she doesn't have the same voice as her mother, but I hope it was enough. He fell asleep by the last verse, but I kept singing, right to the end.

Like Mom did. I'll leave the lyrics here, just in case somepony wants to sing it themselves one day. Or, maybe you just want to know it, Journal.

Along I trot this moonlit path,
And think, I ought, to say to you,
Beware the home, the love of hearth,
And live as a wander’r may do.

It’s not hard to be a wander’r,
It’s not hard to be a wander’r,
To walk the roads, to ebb and flow,
Then on the road, you’re always home.

The path before you is yours, my dear,
As a king or queen may claim it,
But as king or queen grows old, I fear,
You must learn you have to leave it.

It’s not hard to be a wander’r,
It’s not hard to be a wander’r,
To walk the roads, to ebb and flow,
Then on the road, you’re always home.

When you take the wheel of life, my love,
And let the north star be your guide,
A traveler needs no masters above,
But the mem’ry of those loved, abide.

It’s not hard to be a wander’r,
It’s not hard to be a wander’r,
To walk the roads, to ebb and flow,
Then on the road, you’re always home.

So, if, when life in chaos,
And you wish to bid it adieu,
Take your cloak and your hat,
Swear you’ll never come back,
Yet my love shall still travel with you.

It’s not hard to be a wander’r,
It’s not hard to be a wander’r,
To walk the roads, to ebb and flow,
Then on the road, you’re always home.
Then on the road, you’re always home.
But the wander’r wanders alone.

That's The Wanderer. Holy buck, that's The Wanderer. Trixie Lulamoon, through yet another hoofstrap paradox, introduced the most famous piece of Pre-Classical Equestrian folk music to the world! And, in Trixie fashion, at least a century before historians suspected its creation.

I had to go to Vinyl Scratch and Octavia to research this. That song's older than anything. There just aren't older songs out there. Turns out, Miss Scratch teaches Music History in her off-season, so I got a full lecture on how important that dang song is. It's older than Greenhooves, for Celestia's sake!

Also worth noting, this is now the most complete version of the lyrics in existence. Octavia looked like she was going to sock me if I didn't let her read it.

Swirly and I didn't really talk for the next two days. We'd heard a few patrols go by in the night, so by morning I knew it was time to get out of that wood. I hitched the wagon up to myself, and Swirly followed alongside me. We ate a quick, cold breakfast in silence as we walked.

Normally, Trixie enjoys singing a few wanderer songs as she travels. This day, she didn't feel much like it, and she doubted Swirly would (or could) sing along.

It didn't help that neither I nor Swirly were very familiar with this part of the forest. I managed to scrounge up a whole bunch of yummy acorns, though Swirly didn't seem interested. Well, more for Trixie. Funny, I can remember talking to Human Trixie once about stuff from the human world past Twilight's mirror, and she seemed to think acorns were poisonous to ponies. Proof that not all Trixies were made equal.

Oh, sweet merciful Luna, there's more than one Trixie!?

Trixie remembers something once said to her. Somepony once said that, even when things were at their darkest, you could always laugh, and things would turn around. You'd think I heard that from Pinkie Pie, but you'd be wrong.

I miss Ribbon.

I'm getting maudlin. And I'm dragging. And this was only day 12, so I need to get a move on.

Swirly didn't sleep well that night, and neither did Trixie, despite us being in the relatively more comfortable wagon. I kept having the same dream, over and over. Every time I'd get to the end of it, it'd either start over on its own, or I'd wake up and find myself covered in sweat and falling out of my hammock.

It was a strange dream, though I didn't realize yet what was going on (that's what we in showbiz call foreshadowing, Journal). Trixie was trapped in Hyneighria as it burned, but besides the flames burning everything around me, there was no screaming, no sounds of battle, or nothing like that. It was eerily quiet.

Except for the Princess, of course. Which Princess? Couldn't tell you. It sounded like Twilight. You know, a little naggy and uppity? But she was tall, and graceful, like Celestia. But she was also magical, like Luna. Don't ask me what the difference is, but I've always liked Luna a bit more than the other Princesses.

Would it be weird to say Luna's my spirit animal? It would be weird. Yes.

Anyway, she kept calling out to me, but I couldn't find her, whichever Her that was supposed to be. The fire made it very unclear, and I tended to either catch on it, or the air was always too smoky for me to get a good look at her. But, definitely a Princess. Definitely an Alicorn.

But, I digress. Day 13 wasn't much better. The forest began to slope up, which meant hauling the wagon uphill more often than not. There really wasn't a road, so that was also working against us. To his credit, Swirly tried to drag the wagon himself for a bit.

And by a bit, I mean a whole five minutes. He was a lot like Twilight or Starlight in that way. A bit flabby from sitting around reading when he could have been out roughing it like Trixie did when she was younger. Then again, I didn't really have a choice at his age.

That was another issue. As slow as I was going with the wagon strapped to me, Swirly was almost as bad, and I could tell he was tired after only a short while. Trixie has nothing against scholars, really. They perform an important function, I think, for us Great and Powerfuls. But, in this case, Swirly's unfamiliarity with hiking was going to cost us time.

Well. Learn by doing, I always say.

I don't, actually. But it's a good saying. Glad I wrote it down.

Finally, just an hour or two before sunset (it's still so weird knowing nopony is controlling that), we reached the top of the hill. I was pulling the wagon again, and, for all the pain and misery it took to get there, it was really worth it. The hilltop was bald, and rose up above the treeline, giving us a commanding view of the Everfree.

It stretched to the horizon! I'd never seen a forest so big before. There probably wasn't a forest this big in all of modern Equestria! And the sun was at that perfect level where it just bathed the world in a warm, richly orange hue. Trixie's favorite color is blue, naturally. But blue works so well with orange sometimes. And the whole sky was like that! Blue and orange!

A moment of beauty I'd almost forgotten about.

"Good!" Swirly collapsed beside me, "Time to camp."

"Not yet, we're not," I shook my head and pointed with my horn down to the other side, "Can't see a road yet, so we're still heading east. And I'm not about to stop at the top of a hill."

"Why not?" he whined at my hooves, not bothering to move his, clearly, exhausted legs. "We can see for miles around us!"

I nodded, "And everycreature here will see us for miles. So, we're heading down the hill. It'll be quick! Don't worry."

Not sure if he grumbled or agreed. Either way, I started down the hill, and I could tell he was following me soon after. We reentered the treeline soon enough, where I was tempted to stop early. Heading downhill was still slow-going, almost dangerously so, as long as I wanted the wagon to stay in control during the descent. And with evening approaching, it'd get worse.

But, I noted something up atop that hill. A little depression in the tree canopy that I hoped would be a little grove to hide the wagon in. And I was right on the money! Just after sundown, Trixie found it, and we prepared the camp. The trees were really overgrown there, so much so that the canopy overhead had entwined the tree branches as tight as a regular ceiling. It was for that reason alone I figured it would be safe to cook over a fire tonight.

After boiling the acorns and making a mash, I managed to scrounge up some dandelions and hibiscus, and made a little sauce out of them. It took a bit of my cheese supply, but you gotta keep your strength up, hoofing it like we were. Even Swirly seemed to come around to the smell.

I whipped some of this up myself, just to see how it tastes. Not bad. I'd add cinnamon, but Trixie was working on something of a budget at the time. Most of Trixie's "recipes" are classic wanderer fare, and I've found a few similar references here and there.

Pinkie Pie showed up in a huff while I was annotating this. She gave me a gift basket of flour, sugar, and yeast, and told me to get my crap together. I have no words.

We sat together in silence, like the night before. Just me, and the future Starswirl, eating burnt acorn mash with cheese sauce. A Trixie special.

But then, I heard something break the silence. A little voice at Trixie's side, quiet, and just a bit hollow.

"Thank you," it said.

"Sorry?" I said. Then, "Oh. Right. Well, the sauce is good, but I always ruin the acorns..."

"No," Swirly chuckled, just a little bit, "I mean, thank you. For saving me."

I tried talking around a mouthful of mash, "Oh, well. You shouldn't have to thank somepony for something like that."

"You could have walked away, I'm sure," he stirred his mash with the wooden spoon I'd given him, "I mean, they were after you. You're the Great and Powerful Wizard Grogar fears, aren't you?"

Trixie's internal 'Starlight' voice started warning me about what to say. It does that, from time to time. I'm told other ponies call it a conscience.

I rarely listen.

"Of course! You doubted me?"

The colt blushed. "A little... um. Trixie?"

I nodded thoughtfully, before taking another deep slurp of my mush.

"What will you do with me now?"

Ah. Yes. That question. The one I'd been pondering for two days and nights by this point. Trixie knew Swirly had family. Technically. Very technically. I didn't know where Roam was, but I knew from talking with Page Turner that any family she had there wouldn't want anything to do with the little guy.

Swirly's dad, Clean Slate, hadn't told me much about his family, probably since he was an earth pony who didn't get out much. I think he had a brother living in Hoofburg, but the way they talked about him, it sounded like he wasn't around anymore.

Confirmation that Starswirl's father was an earth pony, and that his name was Clean Slate.

Unfortunately, that's all we get. Clean Slate, according to what info I could glean out of Starswirl before he tried to mind-wipe me again, was an architect from Hoofburg. He met Page Turner while studying in Roam, and from what I could tell, they hit it off right away. Unfortunately, there lay the scandal that saw Miss Turner's exile from the city. They moved to Hyneighria in order to raise their first son, Starmane.

And I'd put good money on them not being married until after getting there.

Which left one of two options. And Trixie would never abandon a foal on their own, no matter how bad things got. So, I only had the one option, really.

I could practically hear Pinkie Pie's 'For-eh-ver' echoing in the back of my mind as I looked down at Swirly.

"Well," I sighed, and swallowed another mouthful of mush, "Trixie did promise..."

"You... you mean...?" Have I ever told you, Journal, how adorable Swirly gets when his eyes do that 'sparkly' thing? Because they were doing that 'sparkly' thing. And he was adorable!

I nodded, "Crossed my heart and everything, right?"

While I had his undivided attention, Trixie reached out with her magic and took hold of her hat and cape. I'd set them in the wagon, and so I made sure to pull them out of the window facing away from me and Swirly.

"Swirly," I started talking, making sure to keep my hat and cape drifting in the air at the edge of the firelight, "You are a colt of remarkable ability and wisdom beyond your age. And, seeing as how you are Trixie's current Number One Fan, you've proven that you have excellent taste."

Trixie ignored his little snort. I was on a roll.

"But, you wish to learn from Trixie? To study her magical know-how and mystical arts? Do you wish to be..."

Pause for dramatic effect.

"Great and Powerful!?"

He wiped his eyes and nose quickly, then nodded. As he did so, I laid my hat and cape upon him. No matter how ordinary a job hiring this kinda was, I'd never forgive myself for not treating this with the theatrics my profession demanded.

"Then, by the power invested in me, by the Guild of Equestrian Magicians, I, Trixie Lulamoon, do hereby make you, Starswirl, my apprentice in magic!"

I then swatted him across the face with my hoof. Might have swung too hard, considering how hard he crumpled.

"Trixie!?" he screamed, and scowled at me through the tears, "What the buck was that about!?"

Trixie intoned, solemnly, "May that be the last strike you accept without retaliation!"

You may think Trixie just got ahead of herself, but I checked. This is actually how they induct new members into the Guild.

How the heck did Celeste ever get born?

Despite the hard hit, Swirly managed to stand up under his own power, and smiled once more.

"I won't let you down, Master Trixie."

Oh, how I love to hear that!

Don't worry. I know what I'm doing, Journal. And it's not like I could do anything else. I owed the kid more than I could ever repay.

He reached out, and gave me another hug, and this was a lot nicer than the last one. He'd be moody again tomorrow, Trixie knew. It took a long time to move past what had happened. But, if nothing else, I could make sure that Starswirl's foalhood from this point on was one of laughter, and magic.

But, as Trixie was holding her apprentice in a warm embrace, I glanced up and across the flames of our little campfire.

And just for a moment, though at the time I thought I was just seeing smoke and light, I could almost see a shape watching us through the trees...

Twilight twitched, irritably. While she was warmly embedded in her sheets, and her mug of tea was fully drained, and she was fully drawn into the tale before her... her own internal clock was screaming. She attended to that clock, and felt out with her magic.

Almost six in the morning. The sun was supposed to come up. Now, in fact.

So, with a huff and a sigh, the Princess of Friendship allowed herself to be dragged away from her reading in order to raise the sun and prevent the entirety of Equestrian civilization from suddenly plunging into anarchy and panicked destruction.

It was the right thing to do, she begrudgingly supposed.

But, she still had a few minutes before her Royal Duties would prevent her from partaking in her most cherished of activities, and so she decided to flip the page she was on, and take a little sneak peak at what she would find come this evening. She was only halfway through this section of the journal, after all. What better place to pause for a break?

Even Trixie couldn't ruin it with a cliffhanger, right?

And then... the Princess became most confused.

"The Return of... what...?"

Author's Note

Trixie Lulamoon will return, right after...

Clover and Melody: A Follow-Up

Author's Note

If you just got a notice that The Legend of Trixie has updated, and this is the first chapter you see, go back! There were two updates today! Go back and read the previous chapter!

Unless I've messed this up (I did). In which case. Um. Oops.

And yes, the ending is referencing a real thing. Try to guess in the comments! Hint: US History.

Clover and Melody: A Follow-Up

From: DD

To: Princess TS

You and Starswirl really sent me down a rabbit hole, looking up those names. The regular archives were incomplete, the Restricted Section has a lot of deliberate holes, and the backup Restricted Section looks to have been converted into a second Party Cave.

May want to talk with Pinkie about that one. Especially since she tossed “all those boring documents'' into the backup-backup Restricted Section, which is apparently a death-trap labyrinth lying twelve floors down and beneath the Lunar Observatory. Cabbie and I almost died trying to get in there, only to find out Luna had the stupid thing put in as a personal gym, and had forgotten to unlock the secret entrance.

You’d think I’d be upset, but this was the most exciting wedding anniversary I’ve had in years!

Right. Findings. Luna helped out with that, actually. She’s a bit more familiar with the old writing conventions, and she did live around the same time period as the ponies you wanted me to look up. Between the four of us – once Starswirl came down to help – we managed to get somewhere.

Memento Melody was born about two years pre-Hearth’s Warming. She was from a large earth pony family without any obvious connections to anypony of note before then; one of the infinite, faceless commoners who make up the world. Melody showed a lot of promise in the arcane arts, even as an earth pony, and so once Starswirl was stuck in Limbo, Clover the Clever decided to train her personally.

Their falling-out didn’t make it into official records, instead becoming nothing more than myth and legend with the “Seven Trials of Clover the Clever” largely turning the event into a morality tale, instead of what it really was: a lover’s spat.

Seems she didn’t take Clover’s transforming via Harmony Magic into a mare very well. Luna remembers only fragments of what happened, and only partly because she was so young at the time. But from what she had recalled, Melody tried to “fix” Clover using the memory-deleting effects of the Memory Stone. This went on for a few weeks before Melody essentially had a complete breakdown over what was happening, and Clover figured out what she’d done.

Melody had her own memories erased, and she was dismissed from service. The records are a bit fuzzy, but from Luna and Starswirl’s notes, Cabbie was able to determine that she moved to the Griffish Isles, and settled down in a place called Lillypuddle, a little ways west of Trottingham. He’s surprisingly good at cartography, even taking some old instruments out to test the route she took himself.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not so much, Melody wound up having a whole litter of foals. Ever unlucky with love, she married three stallions, all of whom died young, leaving her with children from each marriage.

No, there’s nothing sinister in the records to suggest foul play. Life was just that dangerous, back then. Sad fact.

We were originally going to leave it at that. Melody had a brood of children, and seemed to have lived a very long, productive life. Happy ending, right?

Ah, well. That’s when Gabby got involved. The griffon? She was the courier between here and Trottingham for record requests and, apparently, she stopped in for tea with Diamond Tiara and Pip on their family vacation up in Glasscow. Pip’s folks own an estate there, and his second cousin is a bigtime historian. Once she heard Gabby mentioning our research, it got Miss Fenn Loch thinking.

Lo, and behold! She digs up old family records and a few rare tomes that actually started spelling out Memento’s entire family lineage, from then till now!

Turns out, Melody’s foals and grandfoals had really made names for themselves. While a few lines died out here and there, most of the local Peerage are related to Melody by blood, as are/were a number of famous politicians, inventors, scholars, mages, etc, etc.

Almost all of her modern, living descendants are regular ponies, living regular lives all over Trottingham and the Griffish Isles, and even further out across Equestria.

But you already met two of them. Your very own Wallflower Blush is a nearly-direct descendant of Memento Melody! Her family split off only four generations back, making Melody Wallflower’s Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-etc Aunt, through Melody’s fourth child, Salad Tosser, the famous writer of The Canter-Burro Tales.

Considering how the hooman world is 90% aligned with our own, on a cosmic level, I suppose that Wallflower might also be descended from a woh-man named Memento Melody. Should look into that sometime.

The second one is actually even more directly related, being Melody’s direct descendant through her firstborn, Crumble Well. He was a celebrated lawyer and businesspony back in the day, though his current descendant seems more into the music business these days.

Next time you see Octavia, say hi for me!

But Melody wasn’t the only pony to settle down. Clover actually married as well, to one of the very first Captains of the Day Guard. Sunshade was a rather exemplary unicorn warrior, and a renowned poet. Apparently, during everything going on with Hearth’s Warming and Clover’s later transformation, he’d pined after Clover, and sent them endless sappy poems expressing their admiration.

Sunshade and Clover went up north, away from Canterlot, and founded their own little town. Sunshade was a Baron, as it turned out, so he could do that.

The town they founded?

Sire’s Hollow.

I bet you think you know where this is going.

Being unicorns, Clover and Sunshade had a rather small family, and the number of branches on that family tree is comparable to most unicorn families. A few lines die off here and there, and a number of other ones vanish into history, but a few make it to nearly modern Equestria.

You’ve also met the descendant of Clover, by the way. The current direct heir to Clover’s name and legacy, just so happens to be your fellow Princess Alicorn and Ambassador to Hoomanity:

Sunset Shimmer.

But her line of descent is through her father’s family.

That’s right. Sunburst, a stallion famous for being about as magically impotent as Trixie, is the direct male descendant of Clover the Clever. You probably thought it’d be Starlight Glimmer, right? I did too! But, as it turns out, sometimes talent like that is an anomaly. Starlight’s just Starlight.

I’m not saying anything bad about Sunburst, mind you. Guy’s pretty cool, from what I know. But it’s well-known that he’s a scholar first. A great wizard? Not his skillset.

And a final note. If you were hoping for a happy ending to this little tangent, well, you’re getting one. Years and years later, Clover and Melody began writing letters to each other when they realized they were among the very last remaining ponies who witnessed the original Hearth’s Warming event (Melody having at best vague memories as a foal notwithstanding). Through their correspondence, they became friends again, and shared everything about their lives with each other. Though they never saw each other again, those letters proved they were about as close as any two ponies of the age could be said to be.

When Memento Melody died, surrounded by her family and friends, it was the one-hundredth anniversary of Hearth’s Warming.

Her dying words? “Clover lives.”

Except, she didn’t. Clover had died a few hours before, likewise surrounded by family. The very last of the founders to pass on.

It’s a really cute story. And a fascinating bit of history finally de-mystified! I really didn’t think this is the kind of work I’d be helping with when you called me in to helm this project, but I’m glad I said yes now.

I just realized I spent the last four days working on this aside. This should have been a couple paragraphs, and instead I’ve got a whole essay in my hooves.

Crap.

I’ll just send this along and get back to editing Trixie’s Journal.

Sorry!