One year later…
A bird chirping nearby.
Waves gently rolling over a sandy beach.
The wind blowing through a grove a trees, rustling their leaves.
A door opening and closing, followed by hooves clopping against a wooden floor.
The scrape of a stool being pulled aside then a sigh as the pony sat down on it.
These were the sounds that Trixie woke up to.
Slowly, Trixie blinked her eyes against the light streaming through gaps in the wooden walls surrounding her. She raised a hoof and rubbed at her eyelids. They felt thick and heavy, as though they protested against being open. Trixie let out a dull moan, shifting her weight to place her hooves below her body. Giving a tentative push, she lifted herself off the bed of straw that served as her mattress. A patchwork blanket fell off of her back, leaving her coat exposed to the air. She shook herself, regretting it instantly as a wave of vertigo hit her, nearly falling back onto the straw. Taking several small breaths, she closed her eyes and waited for the nausea to pass. Once she felt like she wouldn’t be sick, Trixie reopened her eyes and took a step. Her leg held her up, only giving a tiny tremor. She took another step, this one proving to be sturdier. Another step, then another until she cleared the straw and stood on the rough cut wooden floor.
Pulling in a deep breath, Trixie then slowly let it out. She swiveled her head from side to side, taking in her surroundings. She was in some sort of makeshift shack, constructed completely from logs and sticks. Vines and dried mud kept the structure together, though with how rickety the shack looked, Trixie had to wonder how it was keeping up at all. A sword within its sheath lay next to the bedding. A glance upwards showed a roof of leaves sitting atop tightly bound twigs. Despite how many openings were uncovered on the roof, the inside of the shack remained dry. Thankful for not having awoken to a damp and chilly shelter, she turned her attention to the other occupant of the shack.
He leaned against a bench that was no more than a plank of wood propped up by two large stones. His dark brown mane and beige coat were matted with dirt and dried sweat. The stallion’s skin was stretched tight against his bones, his ribs clearly visible even through his ungroomed coat. He snored lightly, sound asleep.
Trixie slowly walked up to Doctor Whooves and nudged him.
“Crikey!” Doctor Whooves exploded into action, leaping from his seat and flailing his hooves at his assailant.
The next moment he lost his balance and fell flat on his back.
Wincing, Trixie made her way over to him, entering his line of sight. Whooves’ eyes whirled in their sockets before giving a sharp shake to his head and getting a good look at the mare. Recognition quickly set in, his shock being replaced by a beaming smile. “General Trixie! You’re finally awake!”
“Finally awake?” Trixie repeated. It came out as a wheeze.
Nodding rapidly, Whooves clambered to his hooves. He swayed unsteadily for a moment before firming up his stance and giving Trixie the most joyous look she had ever seen on a pony. “Yes, yes. You’ve been asleep for a long time, now. About a year if my calculations are correct.”
“A year?”
“Indeed. I was losing hope you’d ever wake up.” He turned his head and coughed.
Trixie blinked, her ears folded back. “Really?” She looked around again, gesturing a hoof at their shoddy shelter. “Where are we?”
Sniffling, Whooves turned back to her. “A small island from what I’ve been able to gather. You, myself, and a few others washed up here the day that island in the sky broke apart.”
“Others?” Her eyes widened and she stared intently at Whooves. “Are any of the others alive?!”
“I’m going to assume you mean your Returner friends.” Whooves looked away, swallowing. “I have no idea. The others that ended up here were ponies and one chocobo that I had never met before.” He sighed, closing his eyes and lowering his head. “None of them are alive.”
A silence hung over them, with only the gentle crashing of waves in the distance filling the void. Trixie’s mind whirled with questions but not a single one was voiced. Doctor Whooves shuffled his hooves, glancing at Trixie then towards his desk.
“This… is a lot to take in,” Trixie said at last.
“Indeed,” Whooves replied. Another hacking cough followed his statement.
Frowning, Trixie walked up to the stallion. “Are you sick? It looks like you’re all skin and bones.”
Whooves wiped his mouth clean of spittle. “Well, I haven’t had much to eat since I became ill a few days ago.”
“And you’ve been taking care of me this whole time?”
Sitting down, Whooves rubbed his forehooves together. “Well, you see… you’re the only pony I know that’s here. It didn’t seem right to just let you die when I had a chance to save you. I am a doctor, after all.” Another cough rocked his body. “Besides, it gave me something to live for. The others that washed up here passed away from boredom and despair.
“You’re the closest thing to family I have now that… well, you know about my niece, right?”
Trixie nodded, sitting down next to him. “Yes, I was told of Dinky’s fate from the Emperor. I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault. I should have—” Whooves shook his head, interrupting himself. “No, I’ve spent too much time dwelling on that.”
Another silence fell upon them, the weight of the war pressing down on the ponies. Whooves let out another cough, this one dredging up green phlegm.
“Here, let me try this.” Trixie’s horn ignited for the first time in a year. She grunted as though trying to flex a muscle that hadn’t been used for a long time. A string of white pearls finally coalesced and the green glow of healing magic washed over Whooves.
The stallion let out a content sigh, closing his eyes. A moment later, his hoof shot up to cover his mouth from a sudden cough. “Doesn’t look like it worked.”
Her features firming up, Trixie guided Whooves over to the stack of straw that had once been her resting place. “Lay down and rest. Maybe some food will help.” She blinked, her face falling. “Is there food here?”
“Yes, actually,” Whooves said as he allowed himself to be tucked in. “But, there’s not much. I’ve eaten all the food around here and haven’t felt well enough to travel further out.”
Smirking, Trixie stood high and proud as she declared, “Then let the Great and Powerful Trixie be your doctor this time!”
Whooves chuckled. “Glad to see you’re in high spirits.”
“Yes, very. And… there’s something I want to ask you.”
Looking up, Whooves experienced the rare sight of Trixie looking bashful. “Yes?”
“Since we’re alone here and… neither of us have any family… would you mind if I call you uncle?”
Whooves tilted his head, giving Trixie a blank stare.
“Not that I’m trying to replace your niece or anything!” Trixie quickly added. “I just mean, that, um… I guess what I’m trying to say is—” She stopped her babbling as a hoof touched her own. Whooves looked up at her, giving a sincere smile.
“I wouldn’t mind at all.”
Trixie let out a relieved sigh. She smiled back, patting his hoof. “Thank you.” Using magic, she made sure that her new surrogate uncle was properly tucked in. Once she was satisfied that Whooves was properly covered up, she waved and headed out the rag covered door.
.o.O.o.
The world outside the shack wasn’t quite what Trixie had expected. With the talk about the other ponies that washed up here and Whooves' weariness, her mind had conjured up a wasteland of cracked dirt and dead plants stripped of all vegetation. What she got could only be described as… average.
There were trees and dirt, yes, but the trees showed a healthy amount of leaves and the dirt sported hundreds of tuffs of grass. The temperature was cool but pleasant and the sky was as blue as Trixie remembered. For having survived the end of the world, Trixie almost felt disappointed by the results.
Trixie banished such thoughts to be dealt with later, instead focusing on the task at hoof. She could forage through the spots of grass or pluck the leaves off of the trees with her magic, but neither were all that nutritious or filling. Trixie needed something more substantial to get her uncle healthy. Trotting further away from the shack, which was nestled under some low hanging trees, Trixie scanned the landscape. She saw a sandy beach not too far away, the source of the constant sound of waves. Opposite the beach, no more than a mile away, stood a rocky hill. Deciding that the hill would contain food fit for a pony, Trixie headed for it.
Her journey proved uneventful. The few creatures she encountered were no larger than common vermin and ran off the moment they heard her coming. Trixie reached the hill in only a few minutes, grateful for a gentle incline rather than the steep climb she feared she would need to make. Her body still felt stiff and weak, but she figured a few days of exercise would take care of that. Taking it slow at the beginning though would keep her from pulling or straining anything.
The search for food on the hill became fruitful, in a literal sense. Apple trees were abundant with large, deep red apples that snapped off their branches with a simple tug of Trixie’s magic. Orange and grape plants were also plentiful, along with a few carrots she stumbled across next to an upturned boulder. Soon, she carried enough to fill a cornucopia, or more appropriately, a hungry pony. With a satisfied smirk, she headed back to the shack, snacking on one of the apples as she went.
The return trip went a little faster as Trixie had a skip to her step that would have raised a few eyebrows from her lost comrades. She called out in a chipper voice, “Uncle! I’m back!” Too eager to wait for a response, Trixie swept away the door curtain and strutted inside.
Her step faltered a little as she saw Whooves scramble away from the bench and back into his bedding.
Trixie’s smile dropped, replaced with a stern frown. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing!” came the response of a pony up to something.
Striding up to the bedding, Trixie gently placed down the food next to Whooves, who looked upon it as though it were a grand feast. “How—where did you find all of this?”
“That hill not far from here.” Trixie levitated up one of the apples and offered it to Whooves. The stallion grabbed it and tore into the fruit with gusto. “Now, mind telling Trixie why you were out of bed and not resting like you are supposed to?”
Trixie didn’t receive an immediate answer as Whooves continued devouring the apple. Once the fruit was picked clean from the core, he dropped it and reached for another. A pink aura stopped his grabby hoof, however.
“You’re not getting any more until you tell me what you’re doing.”
Whooves stared at the fruit, a hungry stallion only a few inches from salvation but may as well have been miles away. Sighing, followed by another cough, he said, “Um, not much. Just… getting some work done.”
“Not on my watch you’re not, uncle.” Still frowning, Trixie nudged a carrot. Not being picky, Whooves snatched up the offered vegetable and snarfed it down within seconds. “Now, I’m going to go out and get more. If I come back and don’t see this pile gone or you’re not in this bed, there’s going to be a very unhappy unicorn in this house.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Whooves said, his gaze already roving over the grapes.
“Good. Now, eat up. Trixie will be back soon!” Her prance back, Trixie headed for the opening.
“A-a question before you go, Trixie.”
Turning back around, Trixie offered him an upraised eyebrow. “Yes?”
“Where did you say you got this?”
“The hill just over there,” she answered, pointing a hoof towards the direction of said hill. “There’s plenty there for the both of us.” Giving a parting smile, Trixie exited the shack.
Left alone, Whooves pondered as he popped grapes into his mouth.
.o.O.o.
“Trixie is back! She found nuts this time and crystal clear water.” Flinging back the tarp, Trixie strode inside, her findings floating in after her.
The cache of food dropped to the floor, forgotten, as she found Whooves passed out next to the work bench.
Trixie rushed over to the stallion. “Uncle! What happened?” She gently shook him, earning her a pained moan. “Please, say something!” The only thing that came out of Whooves' mouth was a terrible cough, followed by a glob of blood.
Her horn flaring, Trixie picked up Whooves with her magic, carefully levitating him over to the bedding and setting him down. She covered him back up with the quilt, then floated over a small, hollowed out log from the supplies she brought back. She lifted up Whooves' head and tipped the opening of the log towards his mouth. Clear water dribbled out, slowly pouring down his throat. Trixie silently thanked the stars that some had remained when she had dropped it.
The life giving liquid had an effect, as Whooves coughed once more, this time keeping down any phlegm. He weakly opened his eyes, his gaze finding a worried Trixie hovering over him. “Niece… Trixie. It’s no use. I don’t have much time left—”
“Don’t talk like that!” Trixie propped him up more, readying the log canister. “Here, have more of this. It’ll help.”
Whooves shook his head, waving off the water. “No. I have to… get this out. There’s a trapdoor under that bench over there.” He coughed, a ragged sound. “Take what… you find there and get off this island.”
Trixie shook her head, her face firm even as her eyes began to water. “No. You’re going to get better, then we’ll leave together.”
“Sorry,” Whooves said, forcing down another cough. His voice became strained, as though trying to speak through a tube. “Something… has been keeping me alive… for longer than I should be. The food you… brought back… never once grew on this island. Just… grass.”
Trixie wiped at her eyes. “Stop talking. It’s not helping you.”
“Farewell, my niece. I’ll give Dinky… your regards…” Whooves closed his eyes, letting out a wheezing exhale. His body did not take in another breath.
For a long moment, Trixie didn’t move. She stared down at Whooves, holding her breath. “Uncle?” She began to shake him, gently at first, then harder as she got no response. “Whooves? Please, don’t do this.” She poured the rest of the water into his mouth, but his body did not swallow it, the water pooling until it leaked down his chin. “Whooves!”
Trixie tossed away the log, set Whooves down, then lit her horn as bright as she could. “You are not going to die, here! Wake up, you oaf!” She unleashed her gathered magic, the cure spell covering every inch of the stallion’s body. Once the glow receded, Trixie collapsed to her knees. Struggling to stay conscious, Trixie placed her ear to Whooves' chest.
Minutes passed, but no heartbeat ever came.
A sob broke the silence, then the sound of hooves running out of the shack and into the gathering dusk.
.o.O.o.
Night had arrived by the time Trixie climbed up to the highest point of the hill. She flopped to the ground, her face streaked with tears. How long she laid there, she didn’t know, or cared. Her mind was numb, all thoughts vanishing before they could even form. Nothing felt real, as though she were trapped in a dream but unable to wake up.
Below her, the waves of the sea crashed against the rocky cliff of the hill.
“Everypony is gone,” she whispered. “I’m probably the only one left alive.” She sniffed and wiped her moist eyes. “Why did this have to happen? We won, didn’t we?”
There came no answer, not that Trixie expected one.
The sound of the waves continued.
Slowly and ponderously, Trixie made it to her hooves. She plodded over to the edge of the cliff and looked down. The drop appeared to be at least a hundred hooves. Trixie couldn’t see any rocks sticking out of the water, but an impact at just the right angle would snap a pony’s neck. Lifting a single hoof, Trixie let her weight shift forward. She fell, a trail of tears drifting behind her.
.o.O.o.
The gentle sound of waves washing against a sandy beach was the sound Trixie woke up to. In her detached and woozy mind, she idly wondered if this was going to be a trend. She lay on the sand, feeling the cool beach below her and the lapping of the waves against her body. Trixie could think of worse ways to wake up after a botched suicide.
Letting out a frustrated groan, Trixie maneuvered herself to a sitting position. She turned her gaze out to the sea, its blue waters fading off into the distance. “Why did you even nurse me back to health? I never asked you to help me.” Sighing, Trixie stood up and shook as much water and sand out of her coat and mane as she could. Once she was satisfied, she turned to head back to the shack.
A sparkle at the other end of the beach caught her eye.
Trixie turned and squinted, roving the area for the disturbance. An incoming wave refracted some sunlight, shining it upon an object stuck in the sand. Trotting over, she could make out some type of metal but it was half buried in the sand. Her horn lit up, taking hold of the mystery object and tugging it out of its resting place.
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell. Within her magical grasp was the Ultima Weapon.
The blue and gold sword was just as she remembered it. Not a blemish or smudge could be seen anywhere on the pommel. The short energy blade still shone with otherworldly power. Absentmindedly, Trixie sent a small pulse of magic to the blade and didn’t receive any runic feedback, confirming without a doubt that this was the Ultima Weapon.
“How?” she said, barely comprehending what she was seeing. “There’s no way that this would end up here. It should be gone, just like Rain—”
She shut her mouth, tearing her eyes off the sword and back out to sea. Minutes passed, the only movement the steady crash of the waves and the gentle breeze that fluttered Trixie’s mane.
“She’s alive.”
.o.O.o.
Trixie stood outside the shack, the Ultima Weapon levitating at her side. Taking a deep breath, she brushed past the cloth entrance. Whooves lay where she had left him. Setting the Ultima Weapon onto the bench, she approached the body. A rush of emotions played over her muzzle, settling on firm determination. “I’ll make you proud of me, uncle. I’ll go on, just like you wanted. But first, Trixie will make you a great and powerful resting place.” Concentrating, she levitated up Whooves’ body and headed back outside.
For the rest of the day, she labored over making a slab of rock at the top of the hill. Placing Whooves over the finished bed of stone, she then stood on her hind legs, her forelegs raised to the sky. “Uncle, we didn’t know each other very well or for very long, but I will make sure that anypony that comes here is suitably awed.” Her horn flashed, an ice spell forming at the tip. Trixie grunted, her spell growing in intensity, then let it loose over Whooves. A thick sheet of ice enveloped his body but was clear enough to see through. Dropping down, Trixie picked up a leftover rock and chucked it. The rock slammed into the ice tomb, shattering on impact, but the ice remained smooth and undamaged. Trixie reached up and put a hoof over Whooves’ encased forehead. The ice was cool to the touch, soothing and unbreakable. “Goodbye, Uncle.”
Turning sharply, Trixie headed for the shack, never looking back. Night had fallen, making it hard to see without constant horn light. Deciding that she would investigate the bench tomorrow, Trixie ate the rest of the food she had offered Whooves. She barely remembered tasting any of it, preoccupied by her thoughts. Likewise, sleep came slowly, despite how sore she was from making Whooves’ tomb.
Morning finally came, and with the sun given light, Trixie could see the seams of a door underneath where the bench stood. Opening the trap door turned out to be easy, as it was just a simple series of wooden planks covering up an indent in the ground. The hole wasn’t very deep but surprisingly wide. It needed to be in order to fit the constructed raft she found inside. A few tugs of magic lifted the raft out and she placed it on the floor.
While the shack and everything else was a slapped together mess that looked like it could fall apart at any moment, the raft was the exact opposite. Thick trunks were held together by tightly intertwined vines. The indents between the trunks contained a sealant that Trixie could only assume was a mixture of mud, sand, and small rocks. Prodding the sealant with a hoof, she found that it was surprisingly firm, no doubt to keep water from seeping through. The entire raft was large enough to hold two ponies, or in Trixie’s case, one pony and a stack of provisions.
Trixie turned away from the raft and checked the indent in the ground again. Underneath where the raft had laid was a single wooden paddle several hooves in length. She lifted it out, inspecting the crude whittling job used to make it. She tapped it against the floor, satisfied to hear it give a solid feedback sound. It didn’t look like much, but Whooves at least favored function over style.
Placing the paddle on top of the raft, Trixie now gave her attention to the sword and sheath that lay forgotten next to the bedding since she woke up. Taking a moment to compose herself, Trixie lifted up the sheath, took hold of the sword hilt, and pulled. In one smooth motion, Save the Queen was released from its year long sleep, able to bask in the light of day once again.
Trixie took a minute to inspect the blade but found no nicks or dents. It was as sharp as the day it had been forged. “You and I have a lot of work to do.” Nodding, Trixie re-sheathed the blade and strapped the holder tightly to her side.
The last chore Trixie finished before departure was to gather as many supplies as the raft could hold. With no idea how long she would be out at sea, it was best to pack heavy on the food. Besides the two swords, there wasn’t anything else worth taking. Her labors complete, Trixie left the shack the way it was, her magic dragging the raft behind her while the foodstuffs floated beside her.
Once she reached the shore, she set the raft into the water with no fanfare. The supplies and swords followed, Trixie securing them to the raft with vines and placing a water tight magical seal over them. Grabbing the paddle with a hoof, she turned back to the small island she had called home for the past few days. Giving herself a minute to memorize the sights, she then twirled the paddle like a baton, stuck the handle into the sand, and gave a deep bow. Whirling around, she hopped onto the raft and nudged it further out into the water with the paddle. Using alternating strokes, she slowly pulled away from the land and into the great beyond.
.o.O.o.
For two days Trixie sailed the open seas. She had no direction or any indication of where to go. The night sky’s stars were a jumble of sparkling dots that Trixie swore moved positions. Not that she knew how to read the stars to chart a course, but it would have been extremely annoying if she did. Luckily, the water remained relatively smooth and easy to paddle through with no signs of monsters ready to strike should she fall in. The days proved tiring and boring and more than once while Trixie rested she reminded herself that stopping now would be her slow and agonizing death.
It was on the dawn of the third day out that she encountered something that broke the monotony. On the distant horizon, Trixie spotted a brown blotch against the normal blue of the sea. Adjusting her course, she headed towards it in the hope of finding land. As she drew closer, no obvious bumps of land appeared, but the brown spot grew wider. An hour later, Trixie finally reached the odd coloring, discovering that it wasn’t land at all, but the water itself. It appeared thicker, and when she dipped her paddle into it, completely opaque. An odor that she could only describe as cocoa wafted through the air. Her raft slipped through with no more difficulty than normal water, but the oddness of it all left Trixie with unease. She dared not touch or taste it, renewing her efforts to push on. The faster she passed by this anomaly, the better.
Unfortunately, the brown water continued on for miles. The oppressive wrongness continued to grow but there was no turning back now. Late in the fourth day of her travels, just as she was despairing that she would run out of supplies and die alone in this wasteland of muddy water, there came a sight that brought of whoop of joy to her throat.
Land.
More importantly, buildings on the land.
Despite the late hour and how tired her body felt, Trixie found an extra reserve of stamina and paddled as fast as she could. She didn’t care what the land looked like or what it held, just that she needed to get there. In what felt like no time at all, the raft struck the shore and Trixie jumped off it like it was on fire. She flopped onto her back, her breath coming in short fits and her muscles and horn screaming in protest, but that didn’t stop her from forming the biggest grin in well over a year. Minutes later, the adrenaline rush wore off and she fell into a blissful sleep.
.o.O.o.
Trixie felt a presence above her. Hushed whispers and shadows played over her closed eyelids. Her mind rapidly came out of its dreamlike state, but she kept her eyes shut. As discreetly as she could, she reached out with her magic, grabbing hold of the first thing she came across. She held back from lashing out, waiting for the right moment. One of the voices turned away, as though about to walk away, and that’s when Trixie made her move.
Snapping open her eyes and swinging her improvised club, she struck one of the figures over the head. She heard a crack, but didn’t check to see what had broken, as she was already on her hooves and spinning into her next attack. Planting her forehooves, she bucked out at the second figure, landing a solid blow to its side. She quickly scanned for anymore foes, but none presented themselves. Trixie backed up and got her first good look at her assailants.
“Ow, jeez, what did you do that for?!” howled a pegasus stallion as he rubbed at the bump forming on his head.
“Yeah, what he said,” said another, this one holding his stomach area.
Trixie didn’t drop her guard, holding up the paddle from the raft. “Don’t come any closer or I’ll use this again!” She swung it to and fro, creating a whoosh of air each time.
The second pegasus took one look at the weapon, sputtered, then let out a deep laugh. “Look at it, Hoops! Guess what they say at the docks is true. Your head is thicker than wood!”
Hoops lifted his shaggy brown mane from his eyes with a hoof, letting out a snort. “Yeah, well, I didn’t want to figure it out the hard way.”
“Stop ignoring me!” Trixie roared, brandishing the paddle in front of her. She blinked, noticing for the first time that the paddle had split in two down the handle, the larger end hanging on by splinters alone.
This caused both stallions to laugh, forgetting all about their pains. Trixie huffed, tossed the useless paddle away, then reached for the sword hanging at her side. The sound of Save the Queen being drawn and pointed at the stallions silenced them quickly. Both raised their hooves to the sky.
“Please don’t hurt us, lady!” Hoops said. “Me an’ Dumb-Bell weren’t going to do anything to ya, honest!”
Dumb-Bell nodded rapidly. “Yeah, what he said. No harm done!”
“Shut up,” Trixie ordered, her horn glowing brighter. The two clicked their mouths shut, keeping their hooves raised. “Now, you two are going to tell Trixie where she is. Trixie has had a long journey crossing the sea and isn’t in the mood for any crap.”
Dumb-Bell tilted his head and pointed a hoof at the water. “Whoa, you mean like, you crossed that stuff in that little raft?”
“Yes.”
“That’s awesome!”
“Totally!” Hoops added in. “The boats don’t even go out that way. Don’t want to risk getting stuck in it.”
Rolling her eyes, Trixie waved a hoof to silence them. “Wait, what boats? Where are we?”
“The coast of Albuck.”
Trixie’s eyes glazed over, a far away look in them. “We’re on the Empire’s continent?”
“Well, what’s left of it,” Dumb-Bell muttered.
That brought back Trixie’s focus. “What?”
“Um, if you could put that sword away and promise not to kill us, we can take you there,” Hoops said with a nervous smile.
“Trixie can see the town from here,” she deadpanned. Sighing and shaking her head, Trixie sheathed her sword and headed for the raft. She picked up what was left of her supplies and slung them over her shoulder. She eyed the raft, giving it a frustrated look.
Dumb-Bell crept forward, making sure he was in Trixie’s line of sight and offered a hopeful smile. “Hey, is that thing made of real wood?”
Trixie blinked and cocked an eyebrow at him. “Yes. Why would you say such a thing?”
“W-well, it’s just that we’re running low on it. Hoops and I, we work at the docks, and we could take it there and sell it for some good money.” He grinned wider as he spoke his plan. “We’ll hook you up! Split the gil three ways!”
Trixie remained quiet for a few seconds, shifting her gaze between the raft and Dumb-Bell. “Split two ways. You two can share the other half. Otherwise, Trixie will sell it on her own.”
“Deal!” Dumb-Bell held out a hoof which Trixie grimaced at before giving it a bump.
Head held high and her gait radiating authority, Trixie began the trek to Albuck. “You two have the privilege of doing business with the Great and Powerful Trixie. Now, earn your share and get to carrying that thing.”
“Yes, ma’am!” the duo said in unison. Together, Hoops and Dumb-Bell lifted the raft onto their backs, using their wings as balancers. Despite the weight on their backs, they easily kept up with Trixie all the way to town.
.o.O.o.
Two days later, Trixie left Albuck refreshed and restocked. The two stallions were good on their word, selling the raft for a tidy sum which Trixie put to use immediately. Food, a rigorous grooming to fix a year’s worth of tangles and scruffs, and a new white cape to drape over her body. All in all, a very productive start for her search for Rainbow Dash and the other Returners.
She was glad to be back to traveling. The citizens of Albuck were odd. Trixie couldn’t quite put her hoof on it, but they all acted nervous whenever asked about what had happened over the past year. Often, the topic was changed before Trixie could get any useful information; instead, the citizens wanted to just want to wax on about local affairs. Nopony or chocobo had any clues on her friends’ whereabouts, so staying any longer would be a waste of time.
Also, it was strange that, besides the few ships at the docks, nobody came or left the town.
Now back on the road, Trixie dismissed Albuck and focused on her path ahead. The best place to go would be Vectorlot. The capital would surely have plenty of opportunities to dig up information. It wasn’t until she had traveled a few miles that she began to notice a lack of consistency with her surroundings. Having traveled to Albuck many times during her career as general for the Empire, Trixie had become familiar with the landscape. What she saw now didn’t quite match up with her memories. A small forest that should have been on her right was now on the left. The mountains in the distance appeared much smaller, little more than hills now. She spotted a few monsters darting for cover the moment she came into view and none of them were anything like what she expected. They were small gangly creatures that looked more like an amalgamation of different animals. Luckily, no monsters ran up to attack her, which left her alone to ponder.
Two more days passed before Trixie reached the small canyon that led into Vectorlot. The road through it hadn’t changed, but Trixie was sure now that the mountains had. Instead of tall spires of rock, gently rolling hills surrounded Vectorlot valley. The sight left her so confused, that when she exited the pass, she didn’t immediately take notice of Vectorlot itself.
“This is all wrong,” Trixie murmured to herself. “Why is nothing as it sh—” She stopped herself, her eyes widening as far as they would go and her mouth hanging open.
Before her, where the vast city of Vectorlot had been, was now a multi-colored checkerboard.
Trixie closed her eyes. When she reopened them, the sight remained the same. Gone was the sprawling town. Gone was the grand palace, the largest ponymade structure in the world. No Imperial soldiers. No magitek. Nothing but square boxes of colors stretching from one end of the valley to the other.
“Marvelous, isn’t it?”
Trixie shrieked. She whirled around, looking wildly for the source of the voice.
“Up here.”
Snapping her neck up, Trixie saw a creature hovering in the air. Much like the monsters she saw on the way, this one was comprised of many different pieces of animals. It was serpentine in form, but had legs and arms sprouting from its sides. The head resembled that of a horse, with two mismatched horns on its head. A bat and griffon wing were attached to its back, but it didn’t appear to need them to fly. The creature looked down at her with yellow eyes with red pupils. It gave her a sly smile, revealing a lopsided, overgrown tooth. It lifted a lion pawed hand and snapped its fingers. There came a flash of white and the creature disappeared, only to immediately reappear right in front of her.
Trixie backed away, her magic reaching for her sword. “What… are you?”
The creature placed a eagle’s clawed hand to its chest, looking shocked and offended. “You don’t recognize me? My dear Beatrix, how could you?”
The ring of Save the Queen sounded in the air, Trixie levitating it at the ready. “How do you know that name?!”
“Oh, I know a lot about you, Trixie.” The creature smiled again, placing its mismatched arms behind its back and began casually circling her. “I’ve waited for this moment for over a year now. And here we are, at last. As for who I am…”
It snapped its fingers again, the flash of white obscuring Trixie’s sight. She blinked away the dots in her vision, and when she regained her sight, the world around her had literally turned upside down. Trees floated in the sky, pigs flew in the air, the ground had pink polka dots scattered all over it, and many more things that Trixie could not process. Movement caught her eye and she turned to see the creature standing next to her, looking out over the impossible land with a pleased expression.
“The name’s Discord.” It spread its arms wide and hopped into the air, its voice joyous. “And welcome to my World of Chaos!”