//------------------------------// // Chapter 8 // Story: Trixie Lulamoon of the Dreamguard // by Hoopy McGee //------------------------------// If there's one thing that I've learned, it's that I have a lot to learn. Also, never get Princess Luna mad. ~Diary of Trixie Lulamoon, 1508 AF “And that’s what happened,” Trixie said as she stood straight and straining in front of Princess Luna’s desk, her coat itching under her cadet’s uniform. Now that she was done talking, it was all she could do to keep her head from drooping. It wasn’t fair—even after a full day of constant sleep, she still felt tired. Princess Luna was looking into some middle distance, her eyes unfocused as she considered what Trixie had told her of her experiences with Puka and her unauthorized excursions into the Dreamrealms. I am so getting kicked out, she thought as she studied Luna’s face for any hint of her thoughts. “You are a very fortunate mare,” Luna said eventually. “And a very foolish one. You violated nearly every rule I had laid out for you. You violated your suspension and betrayed my trust, all for the sake of pride. You put yourself at risk, for pride. You made not only myself sick with worry, but also your fellow cadets. Your friend Smidgen was inconsolable whilst you were entrapped in dreams.” Each statement was like a blow. Somehow, Trixie managed to avoid staggering and kept her posture upright. “Yes, Princess.” “I am curious. What do you feel that your biggest mistake was?” Trixie didn't even have to think about her answer. “Impatience,” she said. “I was unwilling to wait. I wanted to go forward, full speed.” “And it never occurred to you that, just perhaps, I might know best?” She couldn’t keep the flinch off of her features that time. “I… I thought you were being overly cautious. I thought I could deal with more than you were giving me.” To her surprise, Luna nodded. “Indeed, you could have. You are learning at an impressive pace. What you failed to realize, however, is that for as quickly as you develop skill, you are slow at learning wisdom. You were incautious and reckless to an extent that nearly brought disaster down upon yourself.” A scowl etched itself across those regal features. “This is not acceptable. Do you understand? I cannot have this kind of behavior in my Dreamguard.” Trixie nodded. It wasn’t exactly unexpected, no matter how little she liked hearing it. She blinked rapidly, her eyes burned with tears that she was furiously failing to stop from falling. “I understand, Princess. I will pack my things and leave immediately.” Luna snorted. “Leave? After all the effort I spent in training you? After the days I spent freeing you? After the lesson you learned, one that was very nearly at the cost of your own mind? Nay, Trixie Lulamoon. You are not going anywhere.” Trixie gaped at the Princess, who was looking just a bit on the smug side. “Buh..? I thought... “ She shook her head. “You’re letting me stay?” “Naturally, you are no longer First Cadet,” Luna said as if Trixie hadn’t spoken. “And you are facing considerable punishment. Fortunately, I know what form your punishment shall take.” The Princess leaned forward and smiled a smile that raised the hair on the back of Trixie’s neck. “T’was your pride that led you down this path, and it is your pride that I must address. By the time I am through, I promise you that you shall be the most humble mare in all Equestria.” The Princess caught her in a glittering stare that nailed Trixie’s hooves to the ground. “Even if it takes the rest of your life to accomplish this. This, I swear upon my name and honor, Trixie Lulamoon.” Trixie nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She wondered, briefly, if it was worth it to try running. “To start, I believe that explaining the actions you took, as well as the rules you broke, to your fellow cadets would be a good first step,” Princess Luna continued. “It would prove a good object lesson, don’t you think?” Her ears pinned back at the thought of explaining every stupid decision she’d made over the last week to the others, and she couldn’t help but cringe. She could feel the humiliation already. Still, if it meant staying in the Dreamguard… “Yes, Princess,” Trixie managed to say. “Very good. Now, I imagine you have some questions about what happened.” She did, indeed. More than she could say at first. She decided to start with the most obvious. “What was she?” Trixie blurted out. “Puka, I mean. What was she?” Luna sighed. “Judging from your description, I would say she was most likely a lleuad corlun, also known as a moon sprite. By themselves, they aren’t all that dangerous. In fact, they can be friendly and even helpful.” “That’s how it started,” Trixie said slowly. “She helped me learn and led me to Draumweyr.” “Draumweyr.” Luna sighed and shook her head. “‘Tis a legend. I would have dearly loved to see it for myself. The true one, rather than the version created for the dream which trapped you. Sadly, you are unlikely to find your way back without Puka’s help.” Trixie snorted. “I’d ask her the next time I’m in the Dreamrealms, but I wouldn’t trust her.” Luna frowned as her eyes hardened. “Moon sprites do not typically lie. Ordinarily, they have little capacity for deception. To even bend the truth as much as she did tells me that she was desperate. You did her a great deal of harm, Trixie Lulamoon.” “What?! I did… but she..!” “Only gave you what she thought you wanted. In the beginning, at least.” Luna sighed and looked away. “As I said, moon sprites are usually harmless and friendly. But they are hopelessly naive and uncomplicated creatures. And you fed her your emotions, which is by far the worst of the transgressions you have committed this week.” “I don’t understand,” Trixie said, her voice small. “That hurt her? How?” “It didn’t hurt her. In fact, you empowered her greatly. Doing so… complicated the otherwise uncomplicated creature. It brought her thoughts and feelings with an intensity she was unable to experience otherwise, yet with no capacity to manage them. And some of you was distilled into every emotion you fed her. A part of you will always now be with her, and she will always yearn for that closeness. She will thirst after your company and your emotions as an alcoholic thirsts for wine.” Luna sighed and rubbed at her temple with a silver-clad hoof. “Yes, a great harm was done, though perhaps I am not the best one to chide you over this matter.” Trixie stared at her hooves, breathing heavily as she absorbed that new information. “I… I see. I didn’t know.” “Which is why you should have trusted my wisdom and followed my instructions,” Luna replied, her calm voice hitting with much more impact than if she had been shouting. Trixie nodded in reply, still staring at the floor and not trusting herself to speak for a moment. When she found herself able to talk again, she asked about the other thing that had been bothering her. “And the Gaunt One?” Princess Luna’s eyes glittered as she smiled in a grim and humorless way that chilled Trixie to the bone. ~~*~~ The black-on-grey of the Path of Shadows surrounded her as Trixie walked slowly forward, her heart thudding in her ribcage. She’d been walking for a while, now, and was almost wishing that it would happen just so she could get it over with. Trixie Lulamoon, a dry voice seemed to whisper from somewhere off to her left. Or maybe it could have waited a bit longer, she decided as her skin felt like it was trying to crawl off of her body. She stopped on the path and reached out with her will, her terror making her fumble a bit before she managed to gather threads of aether to her. Forcing herself to work slowly, she wove them into a defensive shield, one that surrounded her whole body. It was something Puka had taught her and which Luna had approved when she’d seen it. Trixie Lulamoon, the voice seemed to say. Come. Trixie scowled. Come? Like I’m some sort of a dog? The anger was good. It drove the fear away. Not all of it, but enough for her to work as she pulled in more threads, this time winding them tighter and tighter until she had a solid rope of it. She repeated the process over and over, finally weaving the ropes into a large net. All the while, the voice kept sighing at her, calling her name and trying to entice her off the path. It was horrifying. It was aggravating. It couldn’t be over soon enough. Shield around her and net above her, Trixie turned to her left and stepped off of the path, making her way through the brittle monochrome underbrush. Her ears rotated rapidly on her head as she looked around, trying to spot any movement. A rustling, rushing sound behind her was her only warning before something hit her shield with a heavy impact. A shriek of terror ripped its way out of Trixie’s throat as she spun and flung the net at the pale shape that had rebounded off of her shield and was already making another run for her. Fortunately, her aim was true, and the net settled over the figure before it had a chance to reach her. The Gaunt One stopped cold in its tracks, straining against the ropes of aether that bound it. Trixie gulped and swallowed as she caught her breath and tried to calm herself, staring wide-eyed at the thing she had captured. She could see where it had gotten its name. Vaguely pony-shaped, it was a pallid, coatless thing of chalk-white skin stretched painfully tight over bone, with no obvious flesh to speak of. It stood at least two heads taller than Trixie did, taller even than Princess Luna, though it had no horn. The skin of its muzzle was pulled back into a rictus, exposing the sharp, bone-white fangs of a dedicated predator. But what really grabbed her attention was its eyes—or, rather, its lack of them. Where its eyes should have been were, instead, twin pools of pure darkness. Trixie Lulamoon, the thing hissed in a voice like the sigh of an autumn breeze through dead leaves. Prey. Come. Its hooves dug at the ground under it as it strained forward, its mouth opening and closing as it tried vainly to bite her. “Yeah, I don’t think so,” Trixie muttered as she drew more threads of aether towards herself. She wove quickly, though the adrenaline spiking through her was making her jittery enough for her to make more than a few mistakes. Every time she did, she had to release the aether and start over. Luna had been very clear that the weaving must be absolutely precise. The whole while, the Gaunt One strained and whispered at her, the sound of its voice still seeming to come from the environment around it and not from its mouth, which was still moving as if it were already chewing on her. Trixie would have been more terrified if it weren’t getting on her nerves so much. “Oh, put a sock in it,” she snapped as she began her seventh attempt to weave an Injunction. It turned out that seven was the lucky number, as she finally made it through without any errors. When complete, the Injunction she wove looked like a spear forged of silver. Trixie gulped as she stared at it, not sure if she could follow through with the rest. “I understand your hesitation,” Princess Luna said beside her as she let her shadecloak dissolve. Trixie, who had nearly forgotten that the Princess was there, let out a startled yelp. Fortunately, she was able to keep her concentration enough to prevent either her net or the Injunction from dissolving. “I can finish this if you wish.” Breathing heavily, Trixie shook her head. “It’s a monster, right? We should slay our own monsters.” “Monster? No. It is even less than that. It is hunger given form, nothing more. It has no more life and even less purpose than a flame. And, like a flame, it can and will destroy whatever it falls upon if it is not snuffed out.” Trixie nodded. She braced herself, all four hooves solid upon the ground, and brought the Injunction around and touched the point of it onto the head of the Gaunt One, right between the boiling pits of shadow where its eyes should have been. Both the Injunction and the Gaunt One vanished the moment they touched, with a sound like a sigh and a puff of wind which ruffled the stiff, dry grasses around Trixie’s hooves. The net of aether collapsed, and Trixie allowed it to fade. She stood, shaking and staring at the place where it had been standing, until a dark wing draped itself across her back. “Are you well, Trixie Lulamoon?” Luna asked. She nodded. “We should slay our own monsters,” she repeated, though her lips felt numb as she said it. She’d read that in one of the books she’d been given for training, though she could no longer remember which one. “Very well, then. Let us return to the path. Stay beside me and do not fall behind.” Luna set out, Trixie trotting along at her shoulder. She kept playing the incident with the Gaunt One over and over again in her mind, wincing each time she remembered bringing the Injunction to bear. Shaking her head, she opened her mouth to ask Luna a question when she noticed a spot of color in distance. Puka was gazing at her silently, the expression on her face unreadable. “Puka is watching us,” Trixie muttered to Luna. “Yes. She has been since we entered the Dreamrealms. Only now has she allowed you to see her.” Trixie bit her lip and kept her concentration on her hooves until they reached the cobblestones that ran the length of the Path of Shadows. “I… should I talk to her?” Luna regarded her solemnly for a moment before nodding. “You may, if you wish. Be gentle but firm. And remember: your mind and heart are your own, Trixie Lulamoon. Trust them not to the care of others, for that way Nightmares lie.” It took a moment for that statement to sink in. When it did, Trixie’s head snapped around to look disbelievingly at the Princess of the Night, whose features were schooled to perfect stillness. “I… I’ll remember, Princess,” she said, her voice a whisper. It took several deep breaths before Trixie could make herself move forward. She kept her eyes on Puka, who began fidgeting as she approached. She stopped two yards away and hesitated, not sure what to say. As she considered it, she remembered what Luna had said in her study and finally knew how to start. “I’m sorry,” Trixie said. Puka blinked and tilted her head. “Princess Luna tells me I did you a great harm. I didn’t mean to, and I’m sorry.” Puka jumped off of the bush she was sitting on and drifted lightly to the ground. She approached cautiously, like a wild animal, until she was only a short distance away from Trixie’s hooves. “Puka forgives.” Trixie chuckled. “You’re back to speaking in the third person. A hard habit to break, I know.” A look of confusion washed over Puka’s face and was gone a moment later. Once again, she approached and slowly stretched out to sniff at Trixie’s hoof. “Worry?” she asked. “Fear. Guilt.” “Okay?” Trixie said, not sure where this was going. “Confusion, now.” “Yes, I’m confused. I don’t know what you want.” “What Puka wants?” Trixie nodded. “Worry. Fear. Confusion. Puka wants. Guilt. For Puka?” “Oh…” Trixie’s heart broke a little at the hopeful look on Puka’s face. “No, I can’t. I can’t do that anymore.” “Sadness. Guilt. Please?” “I… I can’t give you those emotions. They’re mine, and I need them.” Pain flashed across Puka’s face. “No?” “I’m sorry, no.” The moon sprite stared at her for a moment longer. With a low cry, Puka fled into the underbrush of the Path of Shadows, leaving a glowing blue streak behind her fading slowly into darkness. Trixie stared after her for a long time, even after the light had faded. “Time does not heal all wounds,” Luna said as she walked up beside her. “A great many, yes, but not all of them. Sometimes, the best we can hope for is learning how to cope with the pain.” “She was smarter in the dream,” Trixie whispered, still staring off where Puka had vanished. “She said she was more real with me.” She sighed and let her head hang down. “I really messed up, didn’t I?” “Oh, yes,” Luna replied, nodding. “An unmitigated disaster.” She showed just a hint of a smile, then. “Fortunately, you were not together very long, or it would have been much worse. There has been worse in the history of Equestria. Learn from this, and move on.” “Yes, Princess.” “Very good. Shall we return to the others and continue our training?” Trixie sighed and looked away from the undergrowth. “Yes, Princess. I think we should.” She let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “After all, I have a lot to learn.”