//------------------------------// // But You Can't Make It Stop // Story: You Can Lead a Horse to Water... // by SoothingCoffee //------------------------------// There were two moons in the sky. Trixie did not expect that, she thought dumbly. One was blue, and the other was red. The former was bigger, and the latter was smaller. In a way, it reminded Trixie of those eyes deranged ponies would have. Unbalanced. Unsymmetrical. “How?” she asked quietly. Trixie shivered, and felt as though she had been drenched in ice water. “That shouldn’t be possible.” For a moment, Trixie waited for a rebuttal. Like the cheerful, ‘nothing is impossible!’ Foals loved to make themselves believe. But aside from the wind blowing through the blades of grasses, and leaves, everything was silent. Trixie gulped, and forced herself to move under a tree not far from her—no point in standing in the open, after all. It didn’t calm her frayed nerves, but it was enough to snap her from hyperventilating. There were two moons. Trixie felt it bore repeating. Twice. Or was it thrice? That should be impossible. Admittedly, she had thought of the same thing that one time the Mare in the Moon had suddenly vanished from the moon’s surface, but that was an entirely different matter—at least that one had been quickly resolved in the form of Princess Luna, and still resembled the silver moon. These two weren’t even close to anything silver. And hadn’t that been a shock? Princess Luna, formerly known Nightmare Moon, a literal Princess out of a fairytale maddened and possessed by jealousy on condemning the world into Eternal Night, before she was purified by the Elements of Harmony. There was no small part of Trixie that wanted to meet the Princess of the Moon; and if it wasn’t for Ponyville, Trixie probably would have. Staring at the two moons, Trixie pondered how likely it was that Princess Luna had gone mad again. After all, just as there was a first time for everything, there was also a second time for everything. And there was something wrong in the world when she thought it was possible. But it was still unlikely—even if it did happen, Princess Celestia would’ve acted first to prevent that, or if Princess Celestia had failed, this side over here would be in a state of Eternal Day. Besides, how would Princess Luna change the color of the moon, anyway? Or how she could add another moon. It was possible, but still highly improbable. “What would the other explanation be?” Trixie murmured. “Think, Trixie, think—” an idea came to her mind, and Trixie’s eyes snapped wide: the Green Portal. That could be the other explanation, couldn’t it? The portal was obviously the result of some barbarous ritual to kidnap-slash-summon beings from a far distance away, and since the Zero had ‘failed’, it was probably something akin to a stepping stone for these beasts. Trixie had never seen or heard these beasts before and she considered herself well-travelled for a showmare. So either these beasts were particularly secluded, or Trixie was on the other side of the planet. The former was certainly out. No race could ever be considered ‘secluded’ when they were this advanced in a matter of civilization: a castle which signified their architectural ability—though quite mediocre compared to Canterlot Castle—and wearables which meant they had some form of hierarchy to differentiate who were rich, and who weren’t. They could also use Magic, with how they managed to levitate themselves; either instinctive like Pegasi Magic, or more similar to hers. So that just meant that Trixie was on the other side of the planet. But what if the Green Portal had taken her somewhere farther than the other side of the planet? Trixie gulped, felt herself pale; felt herself shiver as though her veins were frozen solid. What if Trixie wasn’t on the same planet anymore? “But that’s impossible...” even to herself, the words rang hollow. She gazed up to the sky. The strange, and alien sky. She hadn’t thought it was possible, but for the first time in so many years: Trixie Lulamoon felt truly lost. Trixie took a deep breath. “No.” She shook her head away from the sky. “The Great and Powerful Trixie does not do ‘lost’. She is merely homeless, and it’s nothing that a show or two and another wagon could not fix. Beside,” Trixie added, casting another Coat of Invisibility. “There’s a time and place for this, and it is not here.” Trixie nodded resolutely, and smiled like a cat, sweeping her cape with a hoof as she searched for the way out. ()_()_() Louise stared at the ceiling of her room, malformed into an endless abyss by the lack of light. To say sleep didn’t come to her would be an understatement—she had turned left and right, counted sheeps in her head, even rubbed her tummy in a circular motion, and every time she closed her eyes, the wagon and the purple clothing would return behind her eyelids. No, sleep didn’t just not come to her, it had outright refused, and shredded the letter of invitation right in front of her before excavating to another’s bed. Probably that stinking skunk Zerbst. Louise growled under her breath, scrubbing her face in frustration. With a huff, she swung her legs over the bed, and snapped her fingers. The resulting lights almost blinded her poor eyes, but it didn’t take long before they got used to it. Her eyes found their way immediately to the bundle of purple she had placed on her room’s table. Why did she take them? Louise wondered to herself. She shook her head, scrubbing her eyes. She couldn’t sleep, and she wasn’t going to sleep again now that she was fully awake. Louise sighed as she pushed herself to her feet, and released a great satisfied yawn as she stretched herself. She wringed her hands, before moving to grab the purple bundle of cape and hat. “Maybe checking the wagon couldn’t hurt?” Louise mused, leaning against the table. “What if the Unicorn returned? I wouldn’t be there if it did,” she bit her lips in concern, before sighing as she pushed herself away. Improbable, perhaps, but it wasn’t like she had anything better to do now. Decision made, Louise made her way to the door—and froze as she saw her reflection on her wardrobe’s mirror. A moment passed. Heat rose on her cheeks, and she ducked her head in reflex. She was still clad in her sleeping dress, nearly see-through and exposing her–her unmentionables. “What was I thinking?” she whispered furiously, trying to regain her composure back. Louise took a deep breath, thanking whoever it was that had set her wardrobe so strategically. She shuddered the thought of what would’ve happened if she went out in that. Bad enough that she was called Zero for her complete and unbroken record of magical failures; she didn’t need to make it worse. Brimir, she wasn’t even feeling tired. Much. Looking around, her eyes finally fell to the uniform she had worn for today. She made to grab it, and quickly pulled it back as though she had touched something hot. It felt sticky, wet, and smelled awful from her sweat—made worse by the soot and dirt it had endured during the Summoning. Louise scrunched her nose in disgust, cringing away. She wasn’t going to wear that, “If ever,” she added under her breath as she kicked them away, before turning to her wardrobe.   Aside from her other uniforms, and dresses she kept for special occasions, there wasn’t much. There were socks down on the drawer, with her unmentionables. One might call it dull, Louise called it being optimal. After all, she was here in the Academy to learn about magic, and how to properly harness it—though fat lot of good that did—and not… what the Zerbst was here for. She eyed them speculatively with pursed lips. Her eyes fell to the bundle of purple in her arm—she was still curious how they would look on her, and it wouldn’t be good if she had accidentally dirtied her cape for tomorrow. Agreeing with her own reasoning, Louise grabbed her white shirt, and the indecently—yet obligatory—short black skirt. It’s as if they were made with the dirty Zerbst in mind. She forewent her uniform indigo cape, and clasped the purple starry one she had taken from the wagon around her neck. It felt snug on her bod. Eerily so, if Louise had to admit. But it was purely accidental, Louise was sure. After all, anyone with her same body size—Tabitha came to mind—would have definitely fit in, and undoubtedly so on the Unicorn. And she wasn’t exactly going to complain. With her admittedly… petite size—just a late bloomer, Mother had assured her in a strange show of sympathy—it was hard to have an outfit fit in without being called a child by the seamstress. She twirled before the mirror, smiling at how the bright purple seemed to go with her pink hair. Certainly better than than the dark indigo of her uniform cape. Plopping the hat over her head, feeling all too giggly when it fit her perfectly, Louise stepped out of her room. The corridors were mostly empty as Louise walked through them, though she did have the misfortune of having a set of ears and eyes for witnessing Guiche flirting some brunette First Year. She shuddered. Sometimes, Louise pondered if Monmontrency was aware of his unfaithfulness and was purposely letting him off so she could justifiably striked him back tenfolds. The blond fop certainly didn’t make any effort to hide it. They were doing it in an open hallway, for Brimir’s sake! Louise shook her head, sighing as she hurried to outside. The cold wind of the night welcomed her with a chilly breeze, and Louise thanked the Strategically Placed Mirror once more lest she would be freezing solid by now. Louise breathed, hugging herself. Under the twin moons, the grasses and the surrounding had taken a beautiful magenta tint. The crickets sang from a distance, still loud enough for her to hear, serenading a hidden melody in the air. At night, everything felt almost peaceful, and Louise hurried along to where she had done the Summoning Ritual. The wagon was still there, but it wasn’t alone—two guards stood about the wooden vehicle, their dull armors glinting off as magenta under the moonlights. School guards, to be exact; the Academy’s paid  cannon fodders when things go awry, while the Mages would bring the assault from the back. Louise only remembered two times she had seen them: the first time when she first arrived at the academy, where she saw them guard the gate, and the second when last year’s Third Years’ Potion-Making class had gone horribly wrong. Why were they here? Louise pondered, before groaning internally as she recalled what Professor Colbert had told her before separating. Louise sniffed in disdain, grimacing as one of them noticed her arrival. Sun-tanned skin, dull brown eyes surrounded by dark bags, and a dark-brown beard so untamed it could rival a porcupine’s back. “Evening,” Louise said curtly. “Evening, Milady,” the guard reciprocated. Carefully, he asked, “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”  Louise snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s none of your business,” The tanned man nodded. “So it is,” he said eventually. He tilted his head. “Is there anything we can help you?” “Yes,” she said, nodding at the wagon. “I would like you to step aside so I could get inside my wagon,” technically speaking, Louise added silently. She would return it to the Unicorn if it showed up to reclaim it. “Oh.” He blinked, glanced at his partner—who looked all too happy to ignore him, sitting cross legged on the ground—and then back at her. “Our apologies, Lady Valliere, but we could not help you in that matter.” He said, looking down at Louise. “But order’s order, and Professor Colbert told us not to let anyone entry.” He paused to lick his lips, shuffling on his legs. “Even you.” Louise blinked. “Why?” She got a shrug in return. “I hazard that it’s because you should be resting like the others?” Louise scowled, clenching her hands into a pair of fists. Professor Colbert was correct in his suspicion, Louise supposed, though it didn’t make her liking it any bit. Louise glared at the guard squarely. “Step aside, or you’ll regret it,” she demanded, stomping her legs. To further prove her point, Louise pulled out her wand in a practiced motion, and aimed it at Duller’s thinly armored chest. Louise will not lie. There was some much needed self-satisfaction as the guard stiffened immediately. Even the one on the back had gone ramrod. Commoners were one of the most important aspect in society, Louise will admit freely. But knowing that, for all she was a failure as a mage and noble, there would always be someone beneath her was still nonetheless reassuring. “Please,” Louise glanced at the other man, joining in the conversation for the first time, both of his hands raised in a placating manner. He chuckled uneasily. He looked to be the less duller of the two. “No need for violence. It’s already late, and people are already resting for—” “They won’t be for long if you don’t allow me in,” Louse cut him off. A bluff, but they don’t know that. “Well,” the Duller Guard cleared his throat, catching Louise’s attention. She noted that he was leaning pointedly away from her, hands raised above his shoulders. “Obviously, we are at an impasse, Milady. Such as it is,” he added quickly. “You could still do many horrible, horrible things to us that would burn today into our mind. Whenever we would suffer upon misfortune and misery, we would remember this day, and though we would not dare say it aloud, we would condemn your name in the back of our mind—unaware our own faults from that day. So,” he paused to take a breath, before promptly stepping aside. “Don’t say we haven’t warned you.” Louise blinked. Opened her mouth, and clicked it close when no sound came out. “Duly noted,” she eventually said, before passing both guards and over the back of the wagon. She could barely make out the Less Dull remarking about Duller’s response, before she closed the door. Louise sighed heavily, pressing her back against the wall as she pocketed her wand back and closed her eyes. The thick wooden board felt warm on the back of her head. Going against an authority figure’s order, however indirect? Check. She had never done that, before. Louise pondered if she was entering that rebellious phase of her age. She shook her head, hoping that Professor Colbert would be as understanding as usual as she opened her eyes, and gave the wagon’s interior a lookover—oh Brimir. Her eyes widened, looking over the floorboard. Last time she was here, there was a childish drawing of horse stick figures. It was missing. Louise gulped, before rushing over the floorboard. Carefully, she crouched on four, swiping the broken and the not-so-broken trinkets aside for room. Her head swivelled frantically across the floor as she sifted through the letters and baubles. She had opened one of the letters before, though she couldn’t quite read it since it was written in a strange unknown language, so she ignored them for now. It was a picture of a blue and purple horse stick figure standing on a badly scribbled stage. There wasn’t even a stage on the last drawing! She scrambled up to her feet, a couple beads of cold sweat trailing down to her chin, and a couple strides away from combusting in frustration as she looked around, wildly. It couldn’t have been, right? Louise felt a knot form in her throat, a ball of dread growing in her chest. What if the Unicorn didn’t want—never wanted to be her Familiar? Louise trembled, and forced herself to take a deep breath. Tilting her head to the side, she made to unlatch the window, and swung them open. She breathed in the soothing cold wind, before promptly poking her head out. The guards had stood where she had left them, staring at her with alarmed eyes. “What?” She asked, before shaking her head. “Never mind that. Did any of you enter my wagon before I arrived here?” The guards blinked, and in one, shook their head. “We wouldn’t dare too, Milady,” Less Dull answered. Louise sighed, and pulled herself back in, closing the windows part-way through—enough for the wind to come in, but not for people to peek in. She stared at the wagon for the longest moment, before sagging in defeat. She felt heavy—as though an anvil had been dropped over her back. All of today’s activity and her lack of sleep must’ve had finally hit her, Louise thought. She shook her head, before walking over the wardrobe in a slow and sluggish movement. She opened them, and gritted her teeth in an instant. There were originally seven sets. She had taken one set, leaving them to six. There were now four. Louise slammed the wardrobe shut, and groaned miserably as she planted her forehead against the wood. “Stupid.” She mumbled. “Idiot. Useless. Failure. Good for nothing Ze—” Louise clicked her mouth close, squeezing her eyes shut. She wasn’t going to go that far, yet. Doing so would mean accepting defeat, and short of forgetting how to breathe, Louise wasn’t planning to. Still, it didn’t make the idea of going into a Monastery and vanish from the face of the World sounded any less better. In the case Mother would exile her upon news of her successive failures, Louise thought she could at least try to reason with her for that. Louise grumbled under her breath, plopping herself on the bed. She pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging them close. The mattress wasn’t as good as the one in her room, but it was still comfortable, all things considered. Or maybe that was just her tired brain speaking. Her eyelids drooped, and she yawned, smacking her lips together. The sensation of failure was still there, weighing her down. It made her want to hit something. Made her want to cast a spell on something. Something to do to grant her the momentary relief of being in control for once. There were those guards outside, but Louise supposed she was too tired to act on that. Besides, it was already late—there was still class tomorrow, even if the rest of the day would be spent on bonding with her familiar. A familiar which she didn’t have. Louise slumped on the mattress. She pulled the hat off, and covered her face with it. She wasn’t going to cry. Rule of Steel, she repeated in her mind. Rule of Steel.