The Inn
A lone mare strolled through the countryside, homeless, penniless, and prideless. Trixie, the former Great and Powerful, was now a mental, and physical, wreck. Her once neatly trimmed azure coat was now soiled with dirt kicked up from her running. She regretted boasting about her powers. She regretted encountering that damned purple pony, Twilight Sparkle. She regretted even stepping into Ponyville.
Blasted ponies. How dare they make Trixie lose face!
The night was getting deeper, and the chill of the wind slammed into her cheeks like a cold blade. Trixie looked back. She was far away from Ponyville, albeit in the middle of nowhere. Manehattan was due north, but the exact distance, she never knew. The night road stretched far into infinity, sloping onto hills.
Trixie still held her head high. She was still the most powerful pony in all of Equestria. But all she cared about now is survival. Her slow canter grew into an anxious gallop, as she determined to find a place to stay the night.
As Trixie rounded up the small hill, she sighted a small building at its bottom. Instinct immediately guided her to its porch. It was pretty strange, a single building, paint peeling from its woodwork, walls blotchy from neglect, standing in the middle of the barren countryside. A lone sign hung on the window, the word ‘INN’ neatly painted on. Trixie might not have any bits, but she could use her almighty charismatic skill to earn the pity of the landlord.
She peered through the clear glass window, beyond the wooden sign. A bright fire illuminated the room, burning in the stone hearth. A cute little dachshund was curled up asleep in front of it, basking in its glow. The room was filled with quaint furniture; an array of armchairs, a cozy sofa, and a few mahogany tables. A grand piano established its dominating presence at the side of the room. It’s pretty decent. Well, definitely better than staying out in the open. Without a doubt, Trixie immediately shoved her hoof onto the doorbell.
You wouldn't expect the door to open immediately when you ring a doorbell; it usually takes half a minute for the residents to get to the door. But as soon as Trixie rang the bell, it opened at once --- it should have been at once since her hoof had not even left the bell --- and that handsome young stallion was standing there; almost as if he was awaiting her arrival. He had a coffee brown coat, and a dark mane, neatly trimmed and combed. Trixie’s mouth hung open, perhaps in shock, or perhaps in awe at his sheer attractiveness.
“Please come in, he beckoned politely, stepping aside while holding the door wide open and Trixie felt herself inching into the warm house. “This is an inn, yes?” Trixie asked, a little rudely. That dashing stallion gave her a warm smile.
“Why, yes of course!”
“I was wondering about a room. But, oh my, I left Ponyville without a single cent!” Trixie put a hoof to her forehead, dramatically lamenting.
“Don’t worry, dear. My rooms are free of charge”, he said. “And the best thing is that, it’s all ready for you, my dear...”
Trixie’s eyes shone. Free! “Trixie would very much like to stay here.” She gazed around the spacious living room. A cage, with a cloth draped over it, presumably housing a parrot, hung lovingly at the corner of the room. Animals were certainly a good sign in this inn, they made it feel more welcoming.
“I just knew you would, my dear...” the landlord gestured for Trixie to follow him. “We have the whole inn all to ourselves.” He was smiling at her over his shoulder as they climbed up the stairs. “You see, it isn't that often I get a visitor to my lovely inn.”
This colt is rather eccentric, Trixie told herself. But the room is free, who gives a damn about the landlord? “You don’t have many guests in this inn, don’t you?” she asked skeptically.
“Yes, I don’t, after all, what do you expect of an inn in the middle of nowhere?” He gave Trixie one of his wide smiles, as she nodded her head in return. “But I am always ready, my dear. Everything in this inn is always ready, day and night, in case of the occasional wandering traveler.” He stopped halfway up the stairs, pausing with one hoof on the rail. “Just like you”, he added enigmatically, as Trixie just stared at him, a bit spooked.
They ascended to the second floor. “This floor is mine. No peeking around!” the landlord said quirkily. They both climbed up a second flight. “And this floor is all yours, my dear,” he said, letting her eyes roam. “This is your cozy room,” he added as he opened the door, “I really do hope you find it excessively comfortable”.
The room was snug. A well-made bed centered it, with a few other charming pieces of wooden furnishings dotting the room. A huge wardrobe, if Trixie ever needed it, sat quietly at the side. There was enough space at the front to even accommodate a sofa.
“Simply quaint, isn’t it, miss... miss...” He paused.
“Trixie. The Great and Powerful Trixie, if you wish. I am the most powerful unicorn pony in all of Equestria.” She arrogantly held her head high, an array of sparks glowing from her horn. The stallion, being an earth pony, looked impressed.
“Why that’s simply great!" he flashed another grin. "Trixie, you say? I've placed a hot water bottle under the bedsheets. Who wouldn't love a nice, soft bed made warm with a good old hot water bottle?"
Trixie surveyed the bed. The bedspread had been removed, sheets neatly turned to one side, almost welcoming her into its warmth. "Th... Thank you."
"To tell you, my dear, I was never expecting guests for a long time, and I was getting worried," the stallion remarked. "I'll leave you to settle down, but kindly head down to the living room to sign the guestbook; I need a record of my guests. And you could join me at supper too." At that, he headed out of the room with that smile printed onto his face.
Trixie slumped onto the bed, relieving each and every of her aching bones. She just had to consider herself lucky to stumble upon such an inn in the middle of practically nowhere. The landlord might be off his rocker, but after all, he was harmless. If he tried to do anything to her, magic was surely enough to overpower him.
After a good period of rest and washing up, Trixie headed downstairs. She was greeted by the soft glow of the fire in the hearth, with the little dachshund sleeping by it. The landlord was absent. The guest book was open on the table, ready for her to sign. Trixie used her telekinesis to inscribe her name in the pages of the well-thumbed book, yellowed with age. However, only one page was used. Curiously, she read the two other entries.
"Quest, Year 193; North Star, Year 195?" Trixie read aloud.
"Such wonderful ponies, they are," answered the landlord, trotting into the room with a tray of tea and ginger biscuits.
"The last entry... North Star, was two years ago to begin with..." Trixie said.
"Why yes", the landlord replied and heaved a sigh. "I rarely get visitors in the lonely countryside."
"What's more, Quest's entry is almost three years old!”
"How amusing, my dear. Come, have a seat on one of the armchairs, make yourself comfortable. You'll have a cup of tea and a biscuit, no?"
Trixie hesitantly made her way to a plump armchair. The stallion placed a teacup right in front of her, and took a seat as well, sipping on his cup of tea. Using her magic, Trixie followed suit.
"You'd like some milk in your tea, my dear?" The landlord offered. "Or perhaps some lemon?"
"Milk will do just fine," Trixie replied, sensing a hint of almonds –bitter almonds– in the tea.
As the landlord passed the milk, he remarked: "North Star just loved milk in his tea, he puts copious amounts in it!"
Trixie just looked at him blankly.
"A wandering traveler, he was. Came to my doorstep with his huge saddlebags," the landlord recalled whilst chuckling. "Settled in the very same room as yours."
Trixie could not comment. She continued sipping her tea.
"As for Quest, she was a born bookworm, her books and research materials never left her side," he continued. "Those dear little ponies. They must have been really lucky to have found their way into my peaceful inn. And now, I have you..."
Trixie was befuddled. "They... Must have left already, haven’t they...?"
"Left?" the landlord raised his eyebrows. "No, definitely not. I simply wouldn't even allow them to! They're still here, sitting comfortably on the third floor."
Trixie gazed, wide eyed, at him. How very... Strange. She set her cup slowly onto the table.
"From where do you come from, Great and Powerful Trixie?"
It took a while for Trixie to respond to the question, for she was deep in thought. "Oh... Me? I was a show pony, travelling through different towns. I was recently chased out of nearby Ponyville, thanks to some know-it-all."
"Intriguing!" the landlord exclaimed. They sat there in silence, except for the crunch of the ginger biscuit in Trixie's mouth. She noticed the landlord admiring her cleaned coat, not noticing her shocked gaze.
"You have one stunning coat, my dear Trixie," he started in a polite voice. "Quest and North Star have coats which rival in beauty. There isn't a single spot on them, even their skin is as smooth as silk!"
Trixie stared at him. "Skin?"
"Yes, my dear. They're as smooth as a foal’s!"
An awkward silence blanketed the room. Trixie had another sip of tea, the slight taste of bitter almonds becoming more distinct, but she did not care. She gazed absentmindedly across the room once again.
"The parrot... I seriously thought it was real, and alive," she remarked.
"Why yes! Sadly, it breathes no longer."
"It must take a really skilled taxidermist to create such a realistic work... Who did it?" Trixie inquired.
"None other than yours truly."
"You did?"
"But of course. I'm a taxidermist, after all." He brandished his cutie mark, one of a needle, a scalpel, and stuffing. "You've met my little dachshund, too?"
Rising, the landlord walked to the fireplace, followed by Trixie. Her hoof ran across the dog's black fur, and realized that it's skin was hard, and cold, on closer inspection, pale grey. Trixie grew as pale as it was, as she felt a growing pain in her head, as well as her stomach.
"I stuff all my little pets when they pass away. It preserves them, so I can take care of them. Forever."
Trixie clutched her abdomen. She was beginning to feel a bit drowsy.
"You signed the guestbook, didn't you, my dear?"
Trixie managed to strain out a "yes". She headed towards the stairs.
"Why, yes of course. I do need a record just in case I forget your wonderful name, my dear. Or perhaps if your stay gets slightly extended."
The pain was spreading through Trixie's body like wildfire. She staggered up the stairs.
"Why, heading to bed so soon, my dear? Let me help you up." the landlord offered politely, holding Trixie by her limbs, dragging her up the stairs. She tried to use a burst of magic to resist, but her very energy had been drained out of her.
They reached the third floor. The landlord pushed her into the bedroom, where he threw her onto the covers. "You..." she wheezed under her diminishing breath. “What have you done...?”
"Shhh..." the landlord cooed, tucking her neatly under the sheets. "Hush now, my dear... You need a good night's sleep..."
He left the room. Trixie felt the very fabric of life escaping from her.
He returned with a two-tiered tray, stacked with various surgery tools and a huge bag of cotton. Trixie tried to gasp, but her facial expression was out of her control. The landlord selected a very menacing looking scalpel.
"Now, if you would just sleep tight, my dear..."
And then she blacked.