//------------------------------//
// Maestro's Talk with Luna, and Birthday Celebration 
// Story: Zany Meeting With A New Pony 
// by The REAL Mister Pkmn 
//------------------------------//

	After Maestro had teleported away from Ponyville to parts unknown, he took stock of what had occurred only a moment or so prior. Trix kissed me. He tried to get the thought out of his head. Remember, it was all a part of the act. It meant nothing. He dusted off his royal blue vest, his personal favorite. Alright Maestro, let’s get going. Don’t want to be late for the celebration in Canterlot when you arrive. He teleported again, landing a little bit outside Canterlot. After all, he wasn’t going to enter until the day of arrival- he was punctual like that. So, to busy himself during his wait, he formed many different works with his magic. He smiled as he worked on a new painting. It was a off-black violet expanse with scattered dots of white with no rhyme or reason to them. However, they were close to the edge of the canvas, and left a rather large void in the center. In the exact center of the piece was a single dot, different from all the others. It was painted with magic paint that could change color based on the observer, but to him it was teal. He heard closing in on him the flapping of feathered wings. He paid it no mind, and continued working on other pieces. He now worked on a statuette of a tall, bipedal figure that he’d read up on in his family’s archives known as a “binadamu,” which roughly translated to “man.” He’d given the figurine a set of armor, comparable to that of the royal guard but … sleeker. He noticed the wings stop as a figure landed behind him. Judging by the weight alone, it was Princess Luna. Instead of turning to bow, he spoke rather nonchalantly. “Hello, Luna. Enjoying a reprieve from the insufferable nobles, I presume? They still are trying to hold on to whatever smidge of power they can get their grubby mitts on, now aren’t they?”

He heard an exasperated sigh from behind him, making him realize he’d hit the mark quite well. “Quite so, Maestro.” She seemed to think a little before going to the next topic. “I must admit it is interesting to hear Trixie talk about you in her report to me. She hasn’t mentioned you in some time. She mentioned helping you with a problem, but didn’t specify what.”

Maestro shook his head, and chuckled. “Oh that’s understandable, really. She did something earlier this night that threw me for quite a loop- something I never thought she’d do. And to help me, no less!” He smiled. “She’s come quite a ways so far, but until Celestia’s madness has been cured, among dealing with other events I won’t spoil, She won’t be ready for ‘the change.’”

As he fleshed out a songsheet for a new number, Luna questioned him. “Oh? What are you talking about? What change?”

Maestro nearly barked out laughing, but managed to reel it in as a hearty chuckle. “Oh, don’t play dumb, Luna. It doesn’t suit you. You know I’m talking about elevating her to your status.”

Luna gasped. “How do you-!”

Maestro was satisfied that he was one of the few ponies to genuinely surprise the Princess. He smiled mischievously as he turned to face her. “I have my ways, Luna. Let’s just say I’m privy to ancient knowledge, long forgotten… Like the tidbit about your origins, for one.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “But how? I thought those records lost in the era of Discord!”

Maestro shook his head. “Sorry. Can’t tell you that. Family secret.”

Luna pondered for a while, then asked him something. “Maestro, when you think she is ready, could you come to the throne room? All you will need say is: ‘She’s ready.’”

Maestro shrugged. “I guess I could do that.” With a nod and nary a word, Luna left in a flash of silver light. Maestro checked his watch. It was quite late, so he decided to get some sleep. After all, even he needed that commodity every once and awhile. He packed away his things, and set his portfolio on the ground in front of him. He lit his horn, and his entire body began to glow in white light. He then spoke in an odd tongue that, had anyone heard it, they wouldn’t understand.


“̸̝̍O̵̥̐͂̽̾ẖ̴̡̎ ̶͙̟̙̝̈͂̌̄̌g̴̜̋̋͘͝r̶̖͖̫̖̼̾ě̸̺̈́̑͊̃a̸̧̺̎̊͌́̅͘ͅṭ̴̱̼̣̄͛́̾ ̴̤̜̞͖̏̃̒̓p̵̰̃͊͐o̴̠͇̦͠ẁ̵̻̠͈è̷͔̎͋̅̍r̶̬̬̯̈̀̑͋͠͠ ̴̞̳̺̯͒͂̀̈o̶̢͇̍̔̎̂͛͗f̵͍͕͈͍̕ ̷̢̠͍̠̉̆̈́̇͑Ȏ̸̪̭̝̻̈́͠r̷̮̊̽͑̉d̵̼͗͐̊͐̈́̕e̵̡̜̭͈̪̳͗̔͒͐ṙ̶̢̳̎̾̈͝,̸̫̗͍̇́̇̈́̈́ ̸̝̀̆ḇ̷̡̙̃̃̀̅͘͜ǎ̷͙t̶̻͉̿̅̋̊h̴̨̟̪͒̀̓͂͛͝ẽ̵͉͕͇̋͌̃̆ ̷̦̱̜̪̲͊̊̈́t̴̨͍͓̔̆̅͂̀͒h̵̛͖͕́̅̀̀i̶͓̙͇͇̤̹̍s̸̬͚̱̣̏̑̀̋͗̀ ̷̝̉́̒̃̕͝b̶͚̙̋ḛ̶̓́̚ľ̵̛̗̌i̴͎̓e̸̡̞̝͘v̸͕̱̊͗̑͊e̷̳̟͇̣̦̗͝r̷͙̠͕̎̉̑̍ ̸̜͈̹̘͖̾̆͜͝ï̸̢̖̦̄̆ņ̴̦͍͓̼͐͊͐̌͌̆ ̶̟̾̍ỳ̴̛͎̭̩͍̓̌͑͜͝ö̶̲̬̈́̆̓ú̴̧̠̭̳r̶̘̭͉̆͝ ̴̯̝̈́̈́́̽́s̸̢̨̧̞̪̏̈́͜t̴̩̻̪̤̲̯̅̉̍̎͑̚r̸̬̃̂̀̌̿ù̸͎͈͉̝̤̗̏̆̂c̶͇̹̗̔̈̈́t̵͚͊̂̎̌͑ū̴̞͖͊̾͊̆r̶̦̳͖͙͚̆́̃͌̈̒e̶̡͚̎.̵̙̹̋̇
̶̦͈̩̭͍͋Ò̷͈̞͍ĥ̶̝̜̮͕̦̄́̄ ̸͎̌̑̆g̷̡̙͐̈̓̕͘r̷̢̰̎̌͆͗̏͘͜ͅe̴̢̟̼̳̻̓̽̆͜a̸͙̙͑́́̕͘ṫ̷͎̖͈̻̾͆ ̸̧͉̦͋́p̷̲͍̻͗̄̽̚͘͝ó̴̍̎͜w̸̡̢̛̹̆ẽ̵͉͎̥̰̆̋̕͘ȓ̶̩̋̓̊̉ ̴̰̗̩̹̲͗ǫ̵͍̦͈̝̌̓f̷̞̪̬̌͆̐ ̷̘̥̪̇͌C̵̡͈̠͓͘ḧ̶̘́͒̂̒̈́̿ȁ̵̭̱ͅȍ̵̼̽̆̅s̶̗̩̉̍,̸̠̄͑͘ ̴̨̢̻̼̥͉̽͆ḇ̶̱͘ḁ̶̠̩͆ṯ̶̞̗͙̍̅͑̈̌̈ẖ̸̼̝̃̾͋͝͝ͅé̶̝̲͍̏́̌̕ ̷̯̻͈̰͛̍̀̇̚t̸̫̤͉̞͒̏͒̂ḧ̸̢̘̬̻́̓i̵̱͖͈͆͗̕͘ş̷̯̭̃̌̃ ̷̝͖̗̘͎͒̋̈́͂͜s̸̡̟̗̃̍͋̊͝ư̸͚̏̈̎̑̇b̷̧̟͚̈́ṣ̴̮̮͋̿̉̊̎̉c̵͉̟̊̂̉̆̇̚r̴̡̛̩̰͎͕̓͆i̵͚̼̪̠̿̉͗̊̓p̴̯̎͂̈͐t̷̨̫̝̲͊͘͝a̵̠̺͍̮̻͋́́ṉ̷̜̉͜ṯ̶̛͙̭̤̼̉̈́̏͜͠ ̷̜̙̓́̄ḯ̷̬̲́͒̎͠n̵͖̼̺̖͘ ̶̮̼͂y̶̧̙͉̟̥͛̓͂͠ô̷̢͚̲͇͖̋̀ű̵͈̤̩̟̑̍͝r̴̥̱̗̼̈́ ̴̡͔͖̩̘̚͜ḅ̴̤̮̊͛̓͒̈̔e̸̢̨͇̻͊̈d̴̥͚͎̩͊̉̕̚l̶̪͓̰̬̦͊̌́̇ă̸̜̯̗̙̲͝m̸͕̌́̐́́.̷͔̦̥͔͍̀̽̈́̃̚
̴͉̙̃̓̈́̈́͠Ļ̴͈̤̬̗͂̈́ẽ̸̡͔̖̀̒͆̐t̴͕̲͙̦̍̇̀ ̸̝̜̫̞͂̍t̷̛͕͙̖̓͑̚h̸̠̺̲͖̹̦̿͊̓e̶͇̯̊̈́͛̓̈ ̵̡̮̬̀̚g̸̨͈͚͇͍̫̽̇r̸̘̂̀̀̅̐͜e̵͔̼͑̓̉͑̈́a̷̪̪̓͂̆͑̓͝t̷͓̳̭̖̐̾̓͝͝͝ ̷͎̪͛͆̍͆͘͝ͅp̶̹̯͐̎̅͠ò̵̼̂̿̊w̷̢̧̘̦͒ę̸̰̘̍̀͛͌r̷̟̠̺͒ş̷̭̯̱͇̉̆̚͜ ̸̢̭̫̥̰̓f̶̠̪͍̄̂͐͋͜͝o̶̻͇̠̅͛̆͗̄̕ȓ̴̨̰͉̤́̽͘m̴̨̨̺̲̻̃̈́̒͆̽ ̶̨̮̘͚̰̿̀̆͌̑͝B̶̙̹̫̀̿̅̊̈͝a̸̳̒̊̏̿̍ĺ̵̢̡̨̧̘̹̎̇͘̚͝a̴̢̻̬̅ñ̷̨̢̻̮͙̦̈̉̈̓͝c̸̠̺͙̩̫̈́͌͜ë̴̲̟̲̩̹͜ ̸̪̭̘̝̀̐͐͜͠i̴̤̟̰͍̻͖͝ņ̷͓͇̌̆̚ ̵̢̛͚̳̳͇̖͐̏̈́̄Ǐ̸̩͖̩̤̋́͠,̷̨̡̖̠͎̗͊̅̊̀̽̈́ ̸̢̛̲̩̱̲̺̒̂͘a̶͍̎̈́̊̈́͌̽ ̷̦̙̮̈́̈́͝͝h̶̘̀̊̎̑̐u̶͓͎͈̱͊̋ͅm̵̭͕̤̅̽̏̅̀b̷̰͚̤̭̀̎͒͝l̵͚̳̰̟̽̈́͆͠ę̴̧͕̤̖̮̊̉͒͋͂ ̴̧̯͕͑̓̏͘͘͠o̸̟͝n̵͈̼͔̳̲̗̍̌̀͛̋e̷͎̋͐̋͌͘͠ ̶̡̝̰̾̒̕o̴̮̦̖̳̔̉͠f̷̳̲̳̼̗̃̀̑̀̌̅ ̵͚̯͆̀ş̴̛̯̬̰̝̏̉̈p̷̨͉̤̻̞̾ȩ̸̦͔̑̀̔c̸̢͇̙̬̗͓̀̈̋i̵̫̝̅̅̈́͘͝ȃ̷͇ļ̶̯͎̘͇͊͝ ̵̬͖͇̅d̵̪͂̿̾̿̏ẻ̴̛̛̪͛c̵̣̝͍̄͜͝é̵̡̝͓̦̮̊́̍ṇ̵̓̄̓̇͋t̶̢̞̙̲̀͛.̵͓͚̬̭̓͑̈́͜ͅ
̸̖̼̇̅͗̊͝͝G̸̢̳͎̫̗͍͆ȕ̶̧̖̮̺̪i̷̞̮̮͛͊͜d̶̈́̈̋̐̊͜ȩ̷̛͇̃́̚ ̶͕̜̳̝̫̱͑̾̚͠m̷̧̜̩͖̞̭̕y̵̖̮̠̖͇̮̒̔͒̇ ̵͍̺̫̱͊̓̿̿p̷̢̗͉̙̝̹̑̿o̸͚̣̫͕͊́̾͗w̵͉̫͊́͒ȩ̶͕̂̃r̷̦͓̺̫̼͛̈́͜ ̵͈̮̫̺͖̀̈́̈́͗͜͠͠t̶͈̩̊̊͆̈́ǫ̷̙̰̦̞̟̾̊ ̷̤̝̰̠̱̙̓͆ȁ̵̦l̸̞͌̿̚l̴̙̱̤̥̅̀͜õ̶̝̏̋̈́́w̶̧̖̻̤̄̌̽̔̑͘ ̵̳͍͑̾̋a̷̧̧̗̋̈́͑̂̿́c̵̡̱̊̐̈́́̓͜c̵̩͇͆͑̋ę̶̍̀̂̚ś̷͓̿͛̅͛s̴͔̽͂̾́̉ ̸̰̩̠͌́̒̕t̸͔̏͂̍͊ő̸̧̰́̓̌͂̚͜ͅ ̵̪̪̤̈̍͋͛t̵̫͉̥͈̅͐̋̀̕h̸̜̰͂̆̒̿̈́̕e̵̔͆͊͛̈̂ͅ ̶̛̪̿̋̃̑̚P̸͚̲͈̦̠͙͋̽ờ̷̝̗́͝c̷̟͚̹̫̮̓̉k̵̳͉̣̙̹̉̀̈́͂̅ȩ̶̹͚͔̭͚̕t̸̘̝̠͖͈͊̕͘ ̷̡͓̜̠̅̈́̚ơ̶̢̹̰̬͇̔́̏̽̈́f̷̣̯̊͊̎̑͊͠ ̸̠́̇̋͝r̴̬͆̈́̄͝e̷̽̄͛ͅǎ̸͖̹̠̙̜͊̈̈́͝ḽ̷͘͘i̶͎͍̩̖̘̅̌̀̀͝ṫ̴͍y̶̧͈̦̲̾ ̸̯̩͓͇̑̃w̷̨̤͎̼̳͂ḭ̶̲̖̇̑̊̄͜t̴̪̮̅͊h̶͕̗͎̓͐͛̅͘i̵̜̣͈̭̬̾̈́̾n̴̞̝̲͉̩͊̅̆̀̏̀!̴̳̥̞̘̈̏̽”̷̛̣̿̈̓͆


His portfolio expanded and grew, to the size of a small house. It was rather plain for his tastes, but it would have to do for now, until he had time enough to paint it to his liking. His glow faded, and he went inside, shutting the door behind him.

-

The morning of May 23rd had come, and he entered Canterlot. The ponies greeted him heartily, wishing him a happy 22nd birthday. They even broke into song like they always did every year on his visit. As he traveled the streets in his impromptu parade, he collided with a midnight blue unicorn mare. The celebration halted on a dime as he helped the mare up. “Terribly sorry about that, miss. Are you alright?”

As he lifted her head up, he noticed something. Her indigo eyes seemed to pierce his soul. She was certainly beautiful, that was for certain. Her mane was a gently tousled stream of pale blue with a silver streak down the center, as was her tail. And that Cutie Mark of a waxing gibbous moon with stardust flying off from it was certainly something. She nodded slightly, and spoke in a smooth, melodious tone. “Yes, I’m quite alright, thank you. I’m known as Moonrise Mirage. How about you?” His eyebrow raised, and he noticed that she wore a gold circular locket with an etching of her Cutie Mark. His eyes widened.

He pulled himself together, though. He spoke merrily. “They call me Maestro Spectrum. Perchance we can talk elsewhere, away from prying eyes?”

Moonrise seemed to get the message, and lit her horn with indigo light. In an instant, the two disappeared from sight, and wound up in a remote part of the city that had been abandoned long ago. She then spoke in the same strange tongue he’d spoken in earlier.


“̴̘̱̤̮͙̅͛̾̎̈́̅̑̉͆̋̄͠W̵͎͇͇̒̋̄̾͌͊̐̈́̚͝ḩ̵͚̹̣̒̀̑̑̀̿͐̈́ŷ̷̢̬̞̟̯͖̙̞͚̪̗͋̂̾͌̆̓̽͛͜ ̷͈̥̣̫͎̹̪̖͇̦͍̘̙̚ĭ̴̞̮̝̻̜̰̪̻͖̳̃̌͜s̴̨̯̙̥̦̦̝̩͍͙͆̇̀̏̿͐̿̈̓͝ ̴̧̜̱̙̖̎̈́̐̀̓̿̅́̾̾̍̐ͅi̴͍͖̟̬̯̗͎̦͔͊͠ț̵̢̹̫̘̥͂͆̿̃̃͂̐͑͊ ̶̯̩̞̯͍͎̰͎̖̳̱̠͋̌̈́͑́̾́̑͋̓͠ṭ̶̮̞̦̞̫͖̉͂ͅh̴̢͍̘̻͍͍͔̗̩̭͉͎͇̓̎͝ą̴͉̱̰̼̪̞̘̞̣͕̦͓̬̎̿͜ṱ̶͂̓́͌̉ ̸̡̧̣̠̘͙̳͓͕̈́̍̈́̄̊̍̈́͊̑̚̚y̵̨̢̪̯̱̬̪̹̺̳͖̱͇̽̓̌̍̃̈́ǫ̵͈͔̙̞̖͉̯̜͙̲͍̜͖̞̍͋́̔͆̒̃̂͝u̵̝̖̗̜̞͎̒͒͛̊́̍̎̾̇̆͘͝͠ ̴̦̤͗͗ȟ̶͙̫̲̰̮̤̠̗̹͘a̵̡͎̯̳̥̬̖̤̍̎͊͋̓̑̄͠ͅv̴̠͇̰͚̘͖͔́́e̸̢̖̤̦̩̣͕̗̰̮̠̤̬̓̚̕ ̷̧̺͙̝̥̗͚͖̺̫̘̍͑̔̓̈́͠ä̵̡̦͖̖̟̱̺̱̝̥́̐̋̑̐̀̉̽͗͊͘͜͝ ̵̗̪̀̑̂̏͗͛́̔̃͐̐o̷̧̪̮̳̰̩̅̈́̾̾̈͘͜͝͝v̸̥̝̮̍͗̈́̽͂̕̚ū̷̮̻̯̟l̶̞͚̣̮͈̭̼͓̙̰̳̭͍͕̈͑̎̃̆͗͑͐̔̈́̕̕͝ͅa̷̜͈̪̮͎͔͔̥̙̥̩͇͒̒̉r̴̨̧̡̛̬̣̯̬͕̤̮̻͔̩̩̃̈̓̈̾̓̏͑͂͛̍̋͘ ̵̧̛͙̪̙̟͉͇̲̻̘̺̫̒̿́͑͘͠͝͠p̸̛̯̊̏͋͒͛̈́̀͒l̶̲͚̰̺̰͖͓̫̇̎̅̓̈́̀́̉͠ͅa̸̡̫̠͈̙̦̱̬͘͜ṫ̵̡̟̲̥̦̟̗̺̹̗̟̫͝ͅį̴̟̱̬̱͇̥̝̱̻͑̈́̔͐͛͊͝͝ͅn̶͓͇̺̂̇̉̀̈̏ų̸̭̼̪͚̭̦͙̃̿̃̌̑̄̔͝͝ͅm̵̧̱̲̾ ̸̢̨̜̼̭̤̠̻̤͉̖̠̒̈́͗̽̋̆͛͑̒̚͜l̴̢̧̩̹̪̣̣̦̻̦̩̬̖̃̈́̒̚o̶͈̱̘̟̖̘̘͙͍̲̻̘͐͛͊͑̑̀̾͝͝c̷̢̢̡̲̱̦̯̠͇̙̘̤̉͒̄̑k̸̮̻̞̤̑͐̃̾e̴̼̜̫͎̹̣͉̺̒̚͝ͅț̶̭̰̗̥́̋̊̈́̄͛̎̕͜ͅͅͅ?̸̧̮̜̬̙̤̑ ̸̡̟͕͙̙̺͚̩͎̮͍̲͊ͅĮ̴̙̥͔͚̫̗̰͍̻͈̜̋͠ ̷̨̛̛̛̙̦͈̮͔͚̯̺̗͇̦̍̓̆̆͑̽͆̈́̚͜ͅt̵͇̹̿̉h̴̡̧͎̪̩̠͈͙̙̩̯̥̙̦̮͛͗̑̈́̄̾̍͠͝ở̶̤̉̈u̸̩̬̘͕͌̈̀̈̈́̎̐̀̈́̀̇̀͗͘͠g̶̮̯̮̰̣̲͍̥͍̮̐̂͐̂̒̀̋́̑̊̌ͅͅh̸̢̡͖̖̯̘̭̘̮͍̯̙̤̆͑̾̎̒̄̓͌͜ț̶̢̤̪͉̲͎̖͇̩̻͎̬̣̖͒͋̒͒̆̉̆͐͂ ̶͓̹͑͒̀̊̂̆͌̄͝t̷͖̭͓͉̦̉́͒̌h̴̞͚̺͓̀͊̌̐̆̄͜͝ą̸̨̩̯̘͖̪̭̪̥͖̻͆͐́̑͂̈̄̅̀̾͌͊̌̚͘ţ̶̣͈̰̘̘̩͓̟̙̯̳̍̆̽̇͐͊͆́̽͋͐̒͒̉͝ͅ ̷̢̛̭͎̰͖͔͓̰̫̻̰̰́̑̌͊͊̔͂̽͘͝a̶̟̥͎̪̱̎̅͒ļ̶̦̓͗̐͒̏̑̑̐̓̓͋l̶̗̋ ̵̢̤̼͕̻͙̪͕̬̠̗͓̭̆͛̂͛͌̃̒t̷̨̝̗̲̝̥̩̑̑͑̎́̀̍̍͒̔̒̂̕̚̚h̷̲̩͎̀̇o̵͈̟̠̻̒̓͌͌͜s̸͉͖̯͇̜̲̼̼̼̬̠̼͌̾ę̸̢͈͈͕̯̠̩̭̖͚̬͍̀͊̏̓̽͆̍̕ ̵̟̼̄̉͆͒̉ẗ̵̡̡͓̭́̉̅h̷̢͕̫̻̖̉̏̕͝͠ͅa̷͇͆̈́͊̅̉̾͛͌̈́͗̓̽̚̚͝t̴̢̡͓̩̗̤̰͈̣̓̄̎́̓͊͌̀́̈̍̄͊̽͘ ̴̰̻̩͍͋̏̓̒̐̉͆͊̀̚͝w̵̨̡̡̨̜̫̼̪̼̲͍͙̺̹͈͂ǒ̶̩͎̩̗̆͐̇̀r̵̢̢̮̳̘͇̝̠̳̲͎̙̂̀̃͝e̶̜̠̻̯͎̞̲̐͜ ̶̨̢̧̱͎̦̩̦̪̙̩̦̈́̆͛̓͂͗̉́͊̋͗̚͝t̶̡̡̮̗̦̯͍̜̹͒͘h̴̝̞̬̅͂̀̓́͝ȍ̶̰̥̭͔̝̦̰͕̺̱̀̍͂̆͒̔̈̎͐̓̓͛͗ş̴̢̡̳̫͎͎̫̗̺̕ͅȩ̴̰̩̺̖̩̥͌̀͂̏̀̅̍̂͂́̈́̇̉̾̕ͅ ̶͈̤͚̯̪͚̲̐̉͆̽̏̏̏̔͆̃́̚͜ͅh̷̨̻͉̫̩̺̰̩̩͓̒̑̌̆͌̈́̒̌̐͜͜͝͠͝͠͝a̸̘̜̞͈̯̠̱̻̪͚̐͌͗͗̏͋͛d̴̝͍͙̱̣̟̹͎͍͆͂̅̐̿̾̀͊̈́͆̕ ̵͙̫̗͊͌̾͝ḇ̶̨̫̣̼̰͗͆́̎̆̃̎̐̎͘͜e̸͕̥͗ę̷̧͚̩̥̩̮͕̬̭̈́͌͗̋̋̉̈́̚͜ṉ̸̡̜̻͔̼̈́͐̈́̽͌̕ ̷͖̪̖̤͎͇̜̱̣͎͖͖͊̇̿̒͛̓̃̾́̎̅͠͝s̵̢̺̜̳̘̆̇͛̇͌̚͝h̷̢͕̬̩̹̳̟̮̍̉̊̀̏̕͘a̷̞͊̆̃̇̀̃̅̕̕͝ẗ̸̛͓́̓̇̒̏̒̓̄͒͝t̴̖̱̙͗̄́̈́̊͆̈́͆͑̔̂̈̈̋ē̷̡̯̪͖̠̩̩̽͂͠r̴͉͓̻͕̩̱͙͔̜̦̫͔͕̈̿̔̇͊̅͛̓͝e̴͎̞̣̜̖̻̰̙̼̽̂͗̎͛͒͂͝͝ͅd̵̥̰͚̼̮͚̺͈͔̻͎̄́͊̀̿̐̎́̈͜.̸̢̧̛̱͖̝̤̺̻͍̜̦̜̆́͋̉”̴̧̟̳͎̩͔̙͈̮̩̹͇̆͊͆̋̄͠


He shook his head, replying.


“̵̧̻̭̤̟̋̒͊̋̈́̏͆̏̋̚I̷̛͚̹̳̤̯̮͇̤͕͂̑̿̌̂̎̎̋͆͘͠ ̵̭͕̺̯̝͉̭͉̜̠͍͍́̀́͗͝ͅt̵̲̙̣̅͒̽͐̈́̋̿ḫ̵̥̳̲̠̙̯̺͊̆̇̌̀͋̐̐̔̋̃͆̑͜ͅo̸̢̼͎̯͔̟̖͙̻̫̤͗͂̿̓̋̾̽̐̑̾͝ų̸̛̰̗̩͇̼͍̋͌̀̊̉̃͋͐g̷̮̣̠̎̎̽̆̐͒̿̀̎̓͌ȟ̴̨͔̫̞̺̺̜̺͜ţ̶̛͈̟͎̒̄̔̂̿̍̈͐̚͜ ̷̧̺̬̻͉̟̼̆̋̓̽̇̕t̴̹̱̱̻̬̟̲̙͉̏́͊́͌̈̏̚h̸͓̥̰̤̪͖̪̞̯̻̬̹̑̾͗̌̉̒ȩ̵̗̙͚̬̟̥̮̦̑ ̴̞̹̝͖̀s̶̢͚̼̫̲̖̩͇̯̱͒̃̈͛̆̾̄̀͂̕͝a̷̼̟̖̳̦̘̞̻̳̠͌ͅm̴̮̬̞̰̅̈́̓̓̀̌̔͘e̶̢̛̠̫͓͖͍͍̟͗̅̾̍͑̈́̃́̃̈́́͋͊̓ ̵̡̤͔̳̤̈́̂͐͛̈́̂̿̏̈́͆̏͝͠f̸͙͖̥͓̤̘̓̔̈́̄̈́͂̋͗͊̀ḁ̶͙̰͔̠̋͛͂̀͗̀̅̀̍͛͘ţ̷̢̡̛̙̟̗̖͈̪̭̗̦̥̞͓̈́͌̆̐̿̄̈́̕e̸̜̺̺̫͍̓́̋́͛͗̽̅̀ ̶̢̜͚̤̙̞͓̘̘̄̐̍̑̈́̾̈̄̿͛̽h̴̨̹̳̤̼̀̽̌̓̑̉͆͗͋́̔́ä̷̧̢͇͈̖̺͕̦̳̻̥̟͇́̂͒̀̄͊̌͊͘̚͜͝ͅd̵̛̬̟̮͕̼̝̗̭̞̱͔̞̯̫̊̆́͆̊̓̈́̋͂̌̕͠ ̴̤͍̅̾̈́ŏ̴̧̭̜̱̣̠͎̏͜͝c̷̨̢̯̘̞͚̥͕̰͍͗́̈́̀̓̀̐́͜͠ḉ̵̗̘̤͈̒̈́͑̎u̸̱̼̟͍̭̻͕̹̱͎̠̥̭̯͈͛̎͌̽̈́̉̈͐̇̄͊̃̾͝ŗ̶̢̢̣̤̘̫̻͕̖̫̘̩͇̈́͌͌̈́̀̔̏͜r̸̯͍͋́̆̇͑̋̉̚e̶͍̮͋̉̅͊̄̎̉͆̓̑͠͠d̷̠̜̖̬̪̝͎̩͔͇̪̃̓̉̀̈́̃̈́̉̈́̚͘͜͝ ̴͈̼̠͈͙̓͜t̷̡̧̢̧̛̬̤̲͙͍͉̮̥͇̫͊̀̈́̈̈́̈͆̚͝o̴̬͉̱̱̽̈́̐͊̔̀̇̿̋̽̾̔̒͐͐ ̸̢͈̐̍͋̾́́̌̑͑͜͝͝͝ť̵̥̟͚͔̞̅́̋͒̄̅͑̿̿͝h̸̛͍̬̎͛̐̌͌͗͆̍͆̈́ę̴̡̠͚̤͎̞͇̱̿̊̊̆͝ ̴̛͈̲̳̞̜̲̗́́̅͆̆͑̈́̒̾͆̚g̴̩̺̤͎̤̍̔́̿͘͜ͅo̴̡̲̙͔͇̟̲͎̐̕̚͜ͅl̴̡̡̢̠̭͕̫̞͖͇̗̪̆̆̽͋̍̉̑̄͠͝ͅd̴̟̲̀̊̅̄͂͑͑͠-̸͕̂̊͛̒̌̄̆̒̇̔̉͘͘b̷̪̰̻͈̬̮̻͇̣͆̿̂̈́͌̌̓̿̈͋e̶̢̨̨͔̖̱̗̝̮̼͙̝̬̍̋̐̀a̵̤̜̲̘͋́̇r̸̢͓̲̼̫͓̱̅̍̋̈́̈̄̂͑̅̃͠e̴̢͖̲̗̥̜̘̩̥̥͑̆͛̾́̐͐͘͘͜r̶̡̬͖̦͖͎̘͖̠̲̱͌̓̎͑̀̉̎̓͒̈́̕̕ş̶͉͔̽̈́̇̄̈́͌͂̐͠,̸̨̨̡͖͔̼͈͕̹̙̗̫̼̹̉̉ ̵̘̘̣͖̪̠̫̟̱̻̙̔͌̇͠ë̸͍͗̂͒̓̓͂̐͂̈́̍͘͜͠͝͝s̷̩͎͕̎̾̔̍͊̾́͆́͗̏̕p̷̢̛̬̜̗̬̹̗̠̙̑̔͜e̶̢̡̢͇̗͔͍͓͔̰̭̗̩̊̿͊̏c̸̨̠͔͔͕̯̺͔͔̬͉̅͐̂͛̆̅̔͝͝i̷̡̧̗̳͖͔̩͎̲͍̓̀̇̇̔̔̂͋̌̈́͑͆͝͝͠a̵͓͉̙͇͇̯͌̑̒́͘l̴̢̛̺̐̃̑͆̅͗͋̃̈̚͠͝l̷̩͓͓̼͍̇̂̿ỵ̷̢͚͉̋̋̄ ̶̡͕͎̟͔͚̯͕̬͎́̉̆̐̆̎̅̇̊͒̍́͘̚͜͝s̵̛̝̬̥̰͎̗̣̣͖̫̈̓͛͌̈́̐̌̕͠é̵̜̙͖͌̽̋͑̈̇͝e̷̜̠̦̪̿̀̓̀̆̂͋͛͋́i̷̯̺̗̰͚̠̥͉̼̟͆̊̏̔͝ņ̵̳̙̠̪̝͇̻́̑̀̓̊͐̊̀ğ̵̯̩̫̬̫̭̯̬̬̠͚̱̞̗͕̿͂̾̀̎̀͋̒͌̏̍̆̕͝ ̶̳̲̪̝̺͎̑̏̍͋̏̐̀̃̒̆͛̃̔͘ͅa̶̟̱͎͚̎͆̀̓̀̋͛͊͆̑s̶̳̮̩͚͕̪̪̳͎̳̠̊̓̇͆̽͘͘͝ ̵̛̛̼̇͐̒́̅̒t̶̹̺̞͙̮̻̀̎̈́̅́͆̀̕͝h̶̨͙̬̟̮̮̦̹̺̜͈͑͐é̴̢̘͔̻͈̼̬̬̥͖̫̠̂͗̔̽̐̍̎̀̎̄̕y̴͚̝̮͂̇͗̔̈́͊ ̶̖͍̣͓͎̘̱̳̞͍̫͙̱͉̓̂́̃̈͑̉͗͘͘̚͜͠w̷̦̪̭͎͒͗̈́̔̆ê̵̡̛̼̜̳̩̼̰͕͍̪̟̈́̈́̊̃̈́͒̐̚̕͜͝͝͠ȃ̴͎̟̬͕͓̺̣͔͂͑̆̈̾̊͐̄r̸̟̰̗̝͙̟̯͈͂̊̋̈̿̇͗͌ ̷͚̥͆̄̑̔̔̀̈́̀̚ͅt̶͖̻̜͍̰͐̓́̊̚̕h̵̳̲̤͒͆̅̍͆̉̀̂̿̂͐̎̈͠͝ͅe̵̜̜͔̽͒̆͋̈́͋̽͝͠ͅ ̸̢̧̨͔̫͉̳̙̳̓̈́̊̄͋͊͗̔̀͌͘̚͜ͅc̴̨͓̥̲̯̰̜̮͓͋͜͜ͅő̶̯̤̻͎̥̖͓̣̙̫͖̭͒̕ͅļ̶̗̳̩̍̊̍̓̊o̵̧̧̨͙͈̣̦̰͕̲̞̜͕̿r̵͕͉̻̲͉̜͖̄̋̉̉̀́͆̓͝ ̶̦̺̗̗̀͌͌̔͛õ̶̜̤̗̭̯̯̲̣̗̞̣̦͓̘͌̓̀̂ͅf̴̡͉̳̻̳̊̒̋́́̾̓̔͐̿͒̚̚ ̸̢̛̜̜͓̼̮͕̼͖̹̭̮̃͛͂̍̍̽̐̔͑̅͂̕̕̚‘̵̨̡̞̠͓̖̲͕͎͙̿̾͂͂Č̶̠̰̰̪̋̈́̉ờ̷̡̛̪͉̟̭͔̣̤̮͙̗̣̒̀̍̈́̌̽̌͐̾̌͘͝r̴̡̢̧̻̤̦̖͙̳̲̽͊̋̋̓̓̄ͅo̵͉̼̪͕͇̺̬͖̍̂͒͒̌̊̔̆̕͜͝͠ͅn̶̢̛͔͍͐̂̀̈́̍̅̈̑͐̊̐͝͝a̵̦̞͓̗̮̹̼͇̼͈̅͊͗͊͑̆̆͘͜͜ͅ.̶̛̛͉͇͚͙͉͚̪͙̜͚̳̹̳͔͗̀̐̊̉̿̆͑̒̃̄͗’̶̨̛̞̣̝̹͈̂̄̋̈̔̊́̕̕͜”̷̡̤̻̩̥̯͚̘̙̭̯̳̄̀̎̅̈


She sighed in resignation.


“̸̧̼͚̤̱͔͕͕͙͉̠́͌̀̿̆̓̇̿̕͝N̶̢̨̩̝̳̰̬̠̣̩̣͚͇̍͋̀͛͗̇͆̌̅̒̔̂͜͜õ̴̧̫͙̼̳̣͔̂̈́̏.̶̭̱̣̯̥̹̿̍͜ ̴͔̥͚̜̱̦͍͍̬͕͗̔̔̆͗I̴̧̧͚̠̙̹̩̬̭̦͉̯̱̯̓͂͆̊̔́̋̋̋̽̊͜ ̴̧̬̝̣̯̖͕̞̹̱̥͉̰͋͑͜a̵̡̨̯͉̻̙̩̦̍́̒̀̈́̀͘̕͜m̷̖͖̝͈̬̮̻͔̎͑͌͌́̋̆̄̚͘̕ͅͅ ̶̧̧͇̗̙̜̞͕͚͕͚̦̼̟̭̑̂͂̈̍̇̂͐ţ̸̫̲̠͈͓̰͍̟͇̫̫͚̯̿̊̑̅͐͋̎͑̓̋̀̀h̴̡̡̠̭̫̤̯͔̼̪̺͙̭̱̏͜e̸̡̖̩̯͆̐̐̀̈͒̕͝ ̴͓̭̠̏̍͊̀͂͐́̈l̸̨̝̙̞̺̥͙͆̋̆̿̀̃͌̎͐͊͝ã̶̮̘̞͓̑̄̅͑̄͋̏̌̇̑ş̴̲͙̲͖͍̯̺͎̗̯͐͛̽͊t̷̨̢͈̺͕͓̩̰̳͗͐̐̄̋͊̕͘̚ ̸̛̺̪͓̞̖̪͕̼̘̭͓̞͓̹̞̽͗̏͛̒̃́ô̵͔̮̞̼̻͂̒̄̒̓͆͆̈́̓̈́̑f̸̛̙͚̩̈́̔̕ ̶̧̡̢̰̰̜̠̜̤̱̫̮̤̥̎̉̈́̽͌̇͑͗̿̇̒́̓͘ţ̴̦͈͕̻̤̙̯͖͔͈̩̇́̒̄̾̀̈́̕ͅh̶̳̲̦̱̤̀̓̈́̏̉͂̉͂̀̐͒̌͒ȩ̸̛̣̤̣͍̤̖̤̩̣̰̰̄͂̿͋̃̓͠ͅm̴̧̮̞̩̹̥͇͈̘̱̬̯̗̋̾̅̏͐̒̈̐͌̅̂̾̊͗̕͜ͅ,̵̫̘̘̮̫̙͕̣͎̤̦͖̟͐͋̌̌͊͊̅̋̑́̕͝͝ ̷̢̢̡̞͈̰̠̞͕͈̰͍̹͛̊͌̅̌͗͘͝h̸̨͇͕̻̘̭̬͈̩͂̑͛̇̎͗͆̾͆̄̽̓̊͘ͅö̷͈̳͎̜̙̱͓͚͉̻͈́͑͂͐́̔̒̈́̓͌̈́͝ẘ̵̡̫͚͈͈̤̥̱͍͔ë̸̛͔̥͚̦́͊̋͐̓͂͆̐̒̏͠v̸̛̬̞̍̓̾̑̾̑͊̓̊͘͜ȅ̶̢̪̦̞͚̤͎̀̊r̸̜͉̅̊̄.̵̡̡̩̠̦̹̖̦͕̗̻̼̎̀̓͗͐͂ ̴̙̞̝̥̰̰͖̏́́̆̿̎̃͘͜͝͠Ĭ̴̛͓̪̿̋̅͘͝ ̴̧̳̯̍̅̓̽̓̂̂̅͛̒͆̈́́͝p̸̡̣̳͎̦͚̣͖͚̔̓̍́́̒̓̄͋̊̽̉͠r̸̨̛͍̰̙̬̞̺̜͛̿̆̄͝ȩ̵̘̼̗̟͍͉̱͍̝̦̒̎̌̾͗ͅs̶̛̗̔̇͂̉̈́̚̕͝u̸͖͆̚̕͝m̷̨͉̖̣̟̮̻̙̺̣͐͛̃̿͊̾̉͂̈́̿́̈́͜e̴̡̗̗̗̱͇͕̞̘̫̥̦͚̻̅̂͐̏ ̵̥́͋͊͐̀̂̔͐̚̚ḯ̵̡͈̻͈̮́̾̂t̸̛̘̋̂̆ ̴̢̡̡̛̲͈̰̞̪̻͍̭̫̫̲̌͋̐͂̀̉̽̈́̿̉̎̓͘i̵̻͙͔̺̱͍̰̻̗̟͍̎̀͆̀̆̆̏̚͜s̴̳̥̤̗̫̠̤̣̖͓͎̃̅ ̸̢̨̭͓͕̮̪͈̹̹̭͓̞̫̎̀͑̀͊͐t̸̡͓͉̥͖̯̺̲̫͓̜̰̫́̀̈́͊̌͑̄͑͛́̋͗̈́̓͜ḧ̶̡̨͚̩̘̯͖̤͕͔͙́̔́̍̓̔͛̒̾̈̈́̚̚͜͜ͅẻ̸̪̖̪̝̦͎̏͗̽͒͒͐͋̕ ̸̱͓̖̪͙̗͇̟̾̏̋̆̒́̇̋̋͌̎͜͠͝s̷̘̟̓̄͗̑͆ą̸̡͈̯͚̰̭̘͉̭͇̩̫̞̈̿ͅm̴̡͈̙̺͉̣̏̃̅ͅę̴̨͇̟̜̩͙̖̱̂͋̊ ̶̨̨̳̘͚̫̝͍̝̣͈̏͊́̃͊̋̈̉̈͑̍̋ͅf̵̺̲̞̠̗̗̟̳̹̌͊͊̉̒̐͂͘ͅo̶̢̘̬̲̮̦̺̖̝̞̠̪̦͙͗ͅṛ̴̡̘̮͙̣̹̜͍̉́̽͛͛̆͌̕ ̶̙̻̞̦̠̜̲̞̤̂̐̈́͜y̶̢͎̖͙͎̐̊͠͝ó̷̧̘̪͓͇͎͉͇̻͚̺͕̞̺͚͗̇̍͐̉͑̚̕͘͝u̸̡̱̱̤̪͙̗̣̞̲̝̭͎̱̽̍̉͗̐̐́̉̚͜?̷̡̨̪͔̦͈͓͔͍̙̌͛̍̅̓ͅ”̷̧̛̩͇͚̜̖̃̌̑̈́̅̐̈́̽͒͘͜


After his nod, she continued.


“̶̣̝̠̏̓̀̇͘W̴̪̓̆͠ẖ̷̡̲̝̥͇̬͎̜̅̾͊a̶̧̡͈͙̠͇̫̠̰̳̙̣͙͇̍͗́͌̋͜͠t̵̢̢͓̞̰̝̞̗̰̬͚̯͉͔͒͊͊͊̑̏̅̕ͅ ̴͓̳͙̫̥͎̝̺̣̮̏̓̎̌̓̎̈̅̚͝ͅo̵̢̨̮͇̽f̸̢̤͔̩͑̓͑͂̌͆͌͠ ̵̟̰͖͓̭̤̼̪͔͚̻̊̌̈̍̑̑̏̉͆̏̄͘͝ͅt̵̡̢͈͙̬̯̱̜̦́͗̃͘h̸̘͎̘͝͝ͅě̸̡̡͎̙̲̞̣̹͔̤̲͓̜̯̄̑̆͋̎͆̈͜͝͠ ̶̨̘̼̖̦͚͖͚̞͈͉̯̻̭̍̉͆̔̊͋͊̓͘̕s̶̡̥̖̰̳͗̇î̵̡̥͈̩͍͓̹̕l̶̡̫̗̞̘͓̿̈͒̇̌̇̊͛̈̀̇̈́̚͝v̶̫̘͔͚̹͗̈́̀̐̿̓̈͝e̴͍̪͉̭̟͓̅͑̑̉̎̑̐̅̍͒̀r̷̡̡̪̳̳̮͙͔͕̖̣̣̽̅͗̀͆̄̌-̵̥͚̼͖̝̭̃b̷̨͖̱̫͈͔̗̘͇͓̫̪̱̒̾̾̓̏̀̒̾͝͝e̴̤̜̤̽̄̌̀̂̄̓̀a̵̛̼̥̅͆͋̀̈́̓̓̓̃͘͝r̶̡̟̜͉̦͙͕̻̠̪̟̯͔̮̻̀̅̑̈̃̋̂̃̾̇͛͝͝e̷̢̝̭̯̤̪̖͇̜̻͇̙͊̾̅̿͑̑̃̕͝r̵̨̡̭̰͖̰͔̈́́͗́͒̐̆͋͐̀̾͝s̵̟̦̠̝̉̂̌̈́̌́̀͒̅̿̓́͊͘̕?̷̯͍̺͒̌͆̂̄͘͠ͅ”̸̦͛̔̉̅̀̓̒͂̓̉


He sighed.


“̸̬͍͍̯̹͖͎̣̥̝̻̗͐̆T̸̜̥̘̗̞̳̍͒̎̈́̿̉̇̏̀̒̕͠h̷̪͚͚̽̇͊͛̄̈͜͠ȩ̵̭͍̫̰̻̺̦͓̥͓͇͚̒̽͜i̴̢̡̫̝̎̑͒̇̋̿̈́̈̄̒̅̋̿͠ȑ̷̖̠̜̟͍̪̜͒̈͌͊̽͛͝ ̸̥͍̮̙̤̬̦̜̪̯͈̈́͗̃̐̉͆̂̄̈́̈́͜b̴̢̘̼̰̭̪͚̏̽͂͝ļ̵̰̹̉̀͝o̵͚̻̣̣͎͗̂̂͊͘͜ơ̴̙̜̈́̓̈́̉̇͛̀̀̚͝d̶̨̧̡̟͖̲̑̋̓͑̐͊̓̾̚͘͘l̴͖̠̮̣̼͍̰̯̇̑̽̊͆͆̔̏͋͆́͝ḯ̶̡̡̡̱̦̞͖͔̙͙̝̎̄ņ̷͍̮̼̦̳̘̘̳͔̙̰̠̗̿̾̏͛̀̂̆e̴̳̘̜̭͕̩̦̫̼̘͑̔̿͌̇́̓̎́̈́̀͒͘ͅ ̶̧̢̛̹̘̣̼͎̫̯͍̜͓̪͂͜͝͝͝h̸͓͖̮͉̻͚̱̀̍a̷̫̥̗͈͚̘̰͇̪̔̋̓́͂̈̒̌͘͜͜͠s̷̙̝̎͆̔̿̇̕ ̴̡͆̐̾̉̎̑́̾̊̈̆̂̍̈́b̴̗͈̮͖̘̰͍͙̻́̃͑̏̄̉͛́͑̓̉̐͘ẻ̶̢̢͉̩̟̞̭̠̯̘̎̄̄e̵̛̠̺̖̱͖͍̤̯͌͛̉͑̐̈́͜n̴̤̒̂̈͒̾́̀̿͝ ̴̢̡͔̰̲̞̯̮̟̐͑s̷̨̧͎͇͍̗̱̭̝͎̬̣̯̼͑͂̔̏͘̚ͅǒ̵̪̻̪͜ ̵͔̼̯̮̼̊̽̌̆͆̑̈́̃̉͝͠͝ẃ̸̛̻̩̩̤͌̈́͊͐͋̈̈͆͘͜͝ä̷̧̛͕̹̩͖̱̠̤̺͖̅t̵̛̙̣̤̥̭̅͐͋͛͒̔̂̈̏̀ȩ̶̮͚̼͌̒̍̂̑̈́͜͝ŗ̴̛̖̯̘̣͔̭̹͕̳̈͗͗̾͛̑ͅḛ̸̳̥̘͚̝̠͎̔͂͗͋͆͋̉́̽̍͠͠͠d̸̞̟͎̞̞̤̹͕̗̲͔̔̎̒̄̋͗͛͠ ̷̛͍͈̗̱͉̀̄̂̈́̾̾̆͘ͅd̸̤͔̦̜͎̿̀̍͒̇́͗ō̴̜͛̈́w̸̤̞͙̤͇̞̦̄̃̒̚͜ǹ̵̨̥͚̝̝̘̲̩̏̐́͆̇̾͠͝ ̴̢̱͎͉̘͉̤͈̬̀̋̿̀t̸̳̠̭̟̫͖͇̮̙̣̲͗͒͋͋̋̐̑̚̕̚̕ͅḩ̶̼̘͍̈́̇͑̋̏͝å̸̧͙̞̤̲͇̔̀͌͊̓ͅṫ̷̼͂̂͗́̕ ̵̧̛̮̯͕͔͈̏̽̏ͅṫ̷̡̛̳͍͖͙͕̮̲̅̒̽̈́̃́͗̾̚͘͝͠͝ͅh̷̹̺̣͎̦͙͔̠͎̃̏̽̀̍͒̓̂̃̐̿͑̕͝ę̵̭̺̮͉̤͍͈̳͙̖̒̇̈́̾͆̀̈́́̈̊̀̚͠y̶̢̟̫̞͍̗̭͉̦͔̟̰͈͆̈̾̄̓̈́̈́̂ͅ ̸͖̜͕̥̭͓̲̰̖͖̮̩̫̎̒ḿ̸̧̳̙̦̝̠͔͍̥̮͉̳͉̄͆̂́̿͂̑̀͆͌̃̅͛͗ḭ̶̢̡̠̹͚̥̗͕͔̟̱͆̍͌͘ģ̴̢̩̙̳͛̀͗̓̓̓̄̔̒͒̄̉̓̚͝h̴̡̬̞͖̖͍͖̥͂̽͌̈́̍̿͘͠t̶̢̧̖̩̘͔̠̗͍̞̬͍̽̀͑̀̏̇̅̉̈́͆̿͝͝ͅ ̶̤͕̦̜͓͍̳̠̫͎̱̠͓̱͌̉͛̔̕͜a̷̛̛̻̣̙͉̖͊̃̓͊͐̏̈́̓̈̎͘͜ş̶̡̧̙̪̱̜̫̰̺̭̗͋̐͜ͅ ̶͚͔̩͎͕̟̪̥̲̲̃̓͂̈́̈͘͝ͅw̵̡̏̀͂̍̈́̽̀͌͛̇͠e̵̛̠̍̌̒͆̈́̓̍ļ̸̫̻͔̮͔̗̱̜͖͇͊̿̋̐͗̎̌͝l̵̨̻̫̐͐̓̎̍̈́̒ ̴̧̞̟̠̟̱̩͕̘̦͍̠͓̻̓ͅḅ̷̛̩̖̗̓̾͐͌̓̆̈̇͗͋͋̈́̏e̵͓̻̘̅̍́̽̔́̿̄̏͗͘̕ ̷̞̗̗̯̥̮̩̱͒̋̏͆̿̾̀̽̃͂̄͂́͜d̸̙̖̣̐̊̈́̽́͋͘ĕ̸̢̳̜͓͖̱̪͔̗͕̊́̾̔͛̇̂̾̋̀͒̚͘̕͜a̸͎̯̼͕̪̯̺̼̣̘̩̝̾̀̈́́̉͝d̴̨̗̯̖̼̗̟̟̼̰̏͌.̸̲̦͎̇̇̔͌̀͊͑̈́͌̃̈́͘ͅ ̵̢̧̦̙͍͎̙͎̥̝̫̗̓͛͌̍͆͑̒̋̕Ţ̴̧̛͙̝͕̮̲͍̬̈͜h̶̡̢̖͎͉͇̒̊ę̶̛̗̉͋̑̈́́̒́̀͋̈́͐̕y̴̳͎̜̖̹̜̬̞͉̆̈̀̔̓̌̇́̋͑̍̈́̍͗ ̵̢̧̢̝̹̱͓̺̪̥̗̤̘̈͂̓̽̏̈͆̀̋̚ͅḑ̶̢͉̯̮̦̼̱̯̥̰̹͆̈̀̉͛o̷̘̍̑̈́͊͛̌̃͆̄̒͌͘n̷̢͖̫̪̗̹͕̦̤̒’̸̠͎̤̦̦̗̰̼͈̏̅͊͋̃̆͋̆͌́̄͠ͅt̴͙͔̤̭̰̞̘͑̂̽̾̒̾͜ ̶̢̧̡̛̥̞̥̳̯̯̥̝̦͑́̀͆̅͜͠e̶͙̱̩̯͚̗̤̯̠͎̰͊̓́̏v̷̢̞͍̩̼̦̺̖͍̆̄͆̊͝ė̵̢̧̬̺͍͔͎̩͔̘̇̓͝ͅn̷͕̋͑̏͐͝ ̶͚̻̜͚͈̖̞͍͙̣͎̠͚̒̉͗̇͠͝ḥ̷̢̛̩͕̗͈͇͈̜̪̲̪̫̈̑̿̀̈̋͐̊̎̀͌́̕ả̶̘̋͋̿͋͠v̵̨̮̯̞̬̻͔̫̳̖̫͖̈́̐͒̈́̈́͐̾ê̵̡͈̻̝͖͈̗̹͕̹͈̻̍͒͛̌͘ ̵͙̼̘̤̦͓͎̠̈́̎͐͐̂̌̈́̾̆͗̄͝͝͝t̶͍̖̠̲̙̹͖̜̗̲͓͂̃̋̀̽̾̔̈́͂̏̊̕͘͜͠ͅͅh̵̹̐̔̑̈́̌̿́͋ȅ̸̠̯ ̸̬͚̱͍̲̥̦̻̠̗̦͈̌͗̐̊̄̉g̵͉̲̥̞̖̭̮͍̤̿̇͝i̵͙̣̮͚̥̬͈̝̦̙̞̬̜͂͊͒́̒̉͗̀̔̋̃̓̉͠͠ͅf̵̪̻̏̑̈́̓͑̀ṫ̴̡̪͈͈̗̪̥̼͍̜̝̿̅̈̀́̄̒͂͘͝ͅͅͅ ̵̲̝̗͙̎̏͋̃̐̊̋͋̽͠͝ơ̸̢̰̺̮̟͍͎̦̻͔̬͚̑̔̾̃̑͒̂̿̂̓̇̚͝f̸̡̜̲̜̠̰̬͓͕̗̃͗͑̐̿͛̊͜ ̸̢̢̛̩̩͔̯̗̺̠̞͑͒̌͒̑͌̒̈́̀͑̅͐̃̓Ć̴̡͎͕̯̻̰̫͙̝̤͎͔̦̒̀͑̽̅̈́́̍̀̈́̂̄͗ŗ̴͕̱̹̪̜̹̃̓̽͐̀̑̌͐̑ÿ̵̡̼͙͔̤͉͎̼͍͂̀̉͌̃̑̓̌̃͐͘̕͜s̵̛̮̥̱͎̹̺̳̻͇̙̑̀̈́̎̽̌͗̍̀̎͜ţ̴̹̞̙͓͕̙̺͙̝̟͉͈́̉̅͆̚͜ã̵̧͉̱̰͕͍̯̙̟̯̱̦̀ļ̵̡̛̟̳̥͖̩̺͈̜̥͓̥̮̝̉̓̈̀̒͛͂ő̵̡̡̻̬̯̟̙̜̩̝̜̯͙͒̅̋̏̑̕͝͝n̵̳̩̹͙̜̋̅̀̃̄͜͝ ̵̯̱̞͉̤̏̈́̃͌͂̓̚a̸̖̘̻̣̙̭̘̞͛̋͂̃̀̕͠͝n̵̞̠̠̥̘̫͇̺̠͎̘̋̂̀̏͊̋̂͆͂͊̎̈͑̚̚y̶̢͚̥͖̥̱͉̝̭̣̺̋m̴̲̘̲̬̪̩̠͓͚͔̭̹͂͛̑̇͝o̴͖̗̰͓̺̜̼̣̽͒̾͐̎͊r̷̠̳͍̽͌̑͂̿̂̈́̕ȅ̶̢̫͍͓̯̤̦̬̭̕.̵̛̬̫̠̀̃̾̉͆”̴̬͎͖̜̹̳͙̐͐͐̍̅͌̂̿̓̃́̎͘͜ͅ


She seemed thoughtful for a moment, then asked him something.


“̷̠̼̃̈́̅̀̕̕͝͝ͅS̷̰̰̺͆̅͆́̆̊̈̔o̸͍̺͓̗͍̤̲̺̩͖̺̦̻͠ͅ,̶̨̩̱͎͑̄̎͌̈́̊̆̏̋̋̇ ̴̡̠͉̬̳͔̟̼̙̩̯̱̱̩͈̆͗͝s̸̡̨̫̳̝̗͕̱̣̺̜̩̣̎͌̐̔͑̈́͜i̶̹̝͂̉̊̋͐͊͋̏͒n̶̯͂͗ĉ̶̼̙̈́̄͒̏̈́̿̑̉̚ȩ̶̭̭̝̤̦̮̣̤̰͕̪̞̣̎͜ ̵̨̢̛͓̮̭̮͚͚͚̜̖̐͗̏̔̔̾̈́͛͜͝w̸̡̭̟̯̺̰̳͒̈̃̋̈͘͘͘͝ẹ̶̳͖̭͗̀̄̽̈́́̍̃͛̏̒͘͝͠ ̸̛͍̲̭̊̈͆̂̕͠͝ã̷̢̳̺̞̰̼̞̼͌̇́̀̑͘ŗ̵̞̙̖̭̳͔̠͎̪̩̲͙̯͗́̈́͑́͝ę̷̭͛̈́̏̉̂͝ ̷̠̱̣̱͙̥̤̟̝̦͉̬̺̐̿̃̋̽͆̃͋̀ͅt̵̰̞̓̑͊̒̅ͅh̵̨͕̪͇̜͓̫̬̗̃̈̃̓͑̕̕e̴̢̡̱͍̜̥̲̙̝̻̥̐̎͆͌́̆̋̋̏̾̿͂̀̈́͠ ̴̢̡̤̣̗̯̲̝̯̥͑̇̔̓̏͊̄̔͝͝͠l̶̟̭͔͕̻͚̱̎͆ͅa̸̞̬̓̔̊̊̏̂̀͒́͘s̷̡̥͕̲͎̮̬͚̪̞͐̀̈̈͑̚̚͜t̶̠͐͗͝,̶̛͖̬̀́͊̿̓͌̀̀̇̋͘͠ ̵̛̼͎͈̻͍̜̝̙͈̬͇̺̭̘̽̈͒̉͌̈̎̈̀̉̈́̕͘͝ͅs̸̨̰͓͔͙̻̲̠͖̖̃̉̈́̿̊̓͋̆ͅh̸̛̗̏̅͒̓͒̀̈́̿̒̄̆̕͝͝ǫ̵̤̝̙̞̮̜̬̜̤͈͂́̎̌̔̒̍͒͂̈̚̚͝ů̴̢̢̦̗̞̱͇̮̳̞̙̳͉̓̀͌͜l̶̡̩̭̣̽͛͝d̴̡̛̥̙̭͕̮̖̺̏́̒̉̓͝ ̵̻̝̟̟̱̟̔͛̑̓͌̓̓̋͘̚̚̚͜͠ͅw̸̡̩̙̮̰̳͚͚͋͒̈́͂͐̾͑̈́̓̾͝e̸̛̤̹̓ͅ…̸̧̣̞̠̗͍͙̺͖̮̹̉̓̒̄̀͑́̆̃͜͝?̵͉̏̐́̈́̒”̴̛̘͉͇͍͔͌̾̀͊͋̐̇̾͗̒̅̚̕


Maestro nodded.

“̵̰̫̫̖̱̠̥̥̉͑́̎̓͊͋͝͝Y̷̡̨̞̹͓̻̞̯̦̭̫͕̱͐̈̌̊͑͑e̴̗͕̤̯͒̃͌ͅs̷͍̮͊͋̏̊͜.̴̨̛̫̘͈̲͙̲̳̼͈́̈́̂̾́̏̊͊̎̆̄͘͜͝ ̷̦͔̠̓̆̊̈́͆̅͛͗T̴̡̡̡̟̫̤͓̞̠̓̈́̀͐̈́̈͝͝͠ơ̵̹̘̰͉̝̭̹̖͂̏̔̉̌̾̄̃͋̎̚͘ ̷̛͍͉̠͖̇̓̍̾̍͑p̵̗̪̼͕͍̖͓̳̮̄̏͛́͛͛̎̍̂̔͜͝͝ŕ̵̢͖͈̭̀̿̒͜ę̴̙̣̻͍̯̤̗̖̜̪̩̗͖̍̂͛́̏̐̄̉͋̊͝͠͝s̷̛̗͉̤͓̽̌̓̇́̐́ͅě̵̬͝r̵̼̩̳̮̪͇̰͇̰͓͓̭͉͒́̆̎͊̌̓̔̌͜v̸̢̡̲͈͚̄̅̓̃̅̾̌̈́̈́̋̄̚̕͝e̶̡͎̺̞͈͕͔̪̮̭̰̘̲̳̙̾̍̉̆͆́̽̄̃͑́̽̃͌͠ ̴͕͖̖̹̗̣̪͆̓͗̊̏͗͘͘t̵̡̜̜̰͎̠̭̩̣̱͙̗͓̊́͝h̴̤͎͌̿̋͐͘̚e̸̢̛̮͇̠̪͎̦̗̠͑̃̀͆̆͆͊̎̀̉̊̇̚͠ͅ ̵͔̦̬̺̹̠͎̹͔͎̫͂̿̈̂̈́̊̓̍͛̎̄͗͘͘͜͠g̵̢̊̓̾̔͆̑̃͒̿͐͗͊̚͘͠ḯ̷̥̩͈̳̌̌͋̋̂̒̈́͌̋̕̕f̶͇̪̠̈͛̀͘ͅt̷͚͔̣̥̦͎͔̥̥̘̘͖͑͐͐̔̀̃̀͂̿̽̃͌ ̴̢̢͙̗̬̗͇̻͕̯̖̘̞̪͖͒͐̂̓̑̀͂̀͘͘͝o̴̡̧̺̲̺͒̓̕͘͝ͅf̸̡̛̣̻̜͕̠̻̳̩̙̼͉̄̎̑̒̾̍̃̚̕͜͝ͅ ̸̦̈́̽̚̕͝C̴͖̲̹͐̉͊̄̌͊r̴̤̞͓̦̣͔̻̲̮͍̩̙̳̊̅̅͌̂́́̉͗̏̅̚͜͝y̶̢͇̦̣̜̖̳̫͊̉͒ͅş̶̬̠͕̤̃͂͛͂̏̈́̀̈̅̏͝ţ̷̹̙͕͖̫̭͍̦̩̪̳̅̉͆á̸̯̪͆̐͊͒ļ̶̣͍̖̖̗͚̠͉͛̽͊́̕ơ̸͈͙͖͑̾͑̄̃̍̓͊̓̌̑͘̚͜͠ͅǹ̵̘̫͓̳͌͗̈̐̍͊̌́͝,̴̢̢̡͇̥̞̗̦̭̈́̇̂͐́̈̋͐̚ͅ ̷̧̡̢̦͖̭̤̫̻̺͉̫͔̦͗̈̾̅̈́w̵̛͉̪͓̻͚̫͇̖̭͔̲̫͔̞̿͒̾̿̂͒͑͂̓͜e̶̺͕͙̙̽ͅ ̶̧̩̝͍́̓m̵̝̞̞̲͕̰͚̭̳̹͔͌̀͒̊͋̄̍̇͑́̈̈͌͜u̷͓͖͌̇̈́͒̊͗͒̾͂͑͐̕͝͝ş̵̛̹̣̦̲̣̺̻̋̃̔̓̄͝͠t̸͇̙̰̼̭͚̀.̸̖̲̳̖͒͊̈́̒̈́̓͊̂ ̶̛̘̱͒̋͌̅́̑͗̊̿̏̕̚H̸̢͉̗͈̫͇͇͈̩̻̼̑̊̏͒͂o̵̡̗̻̣̺̮̰̳̍͑̈̓̒̌̒̎̌͝ẅ̵̨̡̛͈͍͖̻͖͍́̓̋͂̽̄̎̓͛́̆́͂ȩ̷̠͇̼͉̰̯͊͂̒̍͆̽͌̐̓̋͜v̶̲̉̄̒́̀̈́̾͘ę̵̺̬̱̖̯͉̟̗̿̿͆̎̀̈́̂̈̇͑̈́̂̚͘ͅr̶͖̃,̵̨̼͍̖̥̞͖̘̦̱̬̼͊̓̌̈́̊͊͊͛̄̆͠͝ ̷̨̞̤͂̂̿̀͊̉̄̄͐͒̽̊̕͘͝ͅw̴̡̫̰̯͕̽̑̈ę̴̧̡̟͚̲̻̗̺̪̤͙̜̱̙̈́̐̓͂ ̴̧̢̛͚̻͇̰̦̫̙̤͖͖̪͔͒́̂̂͌̓̀͐̅͒͠ş̵͖͓̥̝̹͖̭͋̂̎͗͊h̴̘̯̣̠͖̻̞̩̬͕̙̟͗͌̐̔̋ͅͅō̸̖̥̰̦͍̐̉ű̵̮͎͓̼̬̣̘̝̜̈́̕l̸͓̺̰̼̬̤̝̳̞̟̟͔̒̒̍̈́͌̍͘d̵͈̳͍̙̮͂͗̈́̈́̌͋͆̚̕͝ ̸̢̢̠̘͉͇̑̑͋̑̉̈́̉́͂̕͠͝͠‘̵̧̛͔̲̞̫̙̺͎̯̤̈́̆́͜ͅm̵̢̥̙͓̲͚͇̞͈̦̦͍͉͖̒͐͐ả̴̡̨̧͎̼̝͎̝̣̫̝͒͂̄̀̅̉́̍̈́̏̚̕ķ̵̛̩̘̩̺̬̙̲̪̭̪̬͑̓̀̒͐͋̏̚͜e̵̡̡̨͚̦̯̫̟̥̻̯̜̦͊́̊͗̓̾́̎̕̚ ̷̙͚̖̪͙̗̗̘̐͊̏̌͝î̸̡̜͓̞̃̈́̎̕t̸̫̼̮̪̖̫́̒͗̿͆̓͒̽̎͝ ̸̜̝͍̘̺̞̯͕͍̃̊̃̊̕b̷̧̨̨̠̬̲̫̠̪̭̦͙̪̪̓̈́̄ȅ̴͍̣̥̣͎̞̘͇̜̻̤͙͌́̈̓́̏̈̈̕͘͠͝͝͝l̵̨̞̱͇̳̞͉͓̃̋͐̀͘͜ͅḭ̷̧̨̧̨̡̫̋̃̀́̈́̊̔̔͊͗̊̾͜ȇ̶̡̛̜̳͎̰̻̥̬̗̰͔̞̇͂̃̾̀͑̇͛͘̚v̸̡̱̙̰̘̹̏̏̀̍̆͊̕a̷̩̥̪͔̣̪͍̪̞̅ͅb̵̨̧̮̰̣͔̻̼͕̾̄̓̿͊́̇̈́́̅̐̋́̓͠ͅl̴̳̎̑̔ė̴͍̯͍͆̈́̒͛͛̀̋̕̕ͅ.̴̨̨̖̟̬̳̟͔̲̝̇̎̈͛̊̈̄’̴̱̺̭̌ ̵̣̾̅͗͒̐̽̈́̋̈́͘Y̸̱̙̝̭̱̘̝̮̣͎̞̥͈̅̿̇͆́́͒͗̈́́̅̚ͅò̴̢̡͚͍̫̙̠̘̠̞̜̜̉͐̾̆̕͠u̴̬̥̅̈́̊͆͂̈́̀̆̂͠͝ ̷̼̰͔̟̾̃o̵̫̩͔͐̓̓̈́͘n̶̡̡̛̰͇̘̪͈̈͌̿̚͘͘ͅ ̵̳͚̻̐̐̒̃͂͂̊̎͂̂́̅̂͂̚b̴̧̢̜̝̠̝͚̥̳̜̦̖̯̫́̓̽͐ó̶̘̠̰͒͂̌́̏a̴̡̛̦̟͈̲͌͗̆̀̀r̴̠̬̳̻͔̪̝̀̓̉̓̎͑̔̆̔̚ḍ̷̛̝̠̜̙̳͕͆?̷͉̮̥̏̃̀̆͌̅̅̿͂͘͠”̴̗̤͙͖̾̊͑̓̔̒̇̚ͅ

Moonrise nodded, smiling.


“̶̧̢̺̮̙̮͔̟͕͚̭͂̔̈͂͛̂͗͗́̽͆͜͠O̶̯̫̎͋̓̋̇̆̋͒̔̐͂̑͗͘f̵̢̲̯̳͇͌̿̿̎͌̈́͐̋͑̀̿̍͘͝͝ ̸͚̰͕̲͊́̏̑̃̎͂͘͘͝͝c̵̲͉̩̯͎͎͗̃͗͛̈́͆̌̓̀͊͘͝͝ȍ̶̧̡̨̡̡͔͓̞̞̠͇͈̂̐̒̅͒͒̋̔͂͠u̸̡̮̲͓̘̤͉͖̼̖͎̭͔͇͗̚͝r̴̡̨̩͓̙̜̘̩̦̗̭̿̓̓̈́́̃͘͜s̴̛̙̹̹̼͓͗̈́͂̑̊̌͗͑̈́ě̴̤̰̘̹̞̱̭̪̠̱̞̤͇̘̏̒̽̆̊̋͜͝͝.̶̢̨͍̠̥̗̹̀͒́̈̊̀̏̎̈́͠ͅ ̷̦͈̄̔̋̄̔́̀̔̿̄͘͝F̵̨̡̢̞͔̻͍́́̿̏̊̓̍̃͠ỏ̵̢͈̟̙̫͇̟͍͕̯̞̺́̃͐͒̈́̓r̵̥̞̼͚̤̥̥͇͙̙̈́̇̑̆̽̑͒͒̄̕͜͝ ̶̛̰̄̍̅̆͝a̵̬̣̣̙͎̯͇͇̐̈́͂͂̐̆̆̆̚͠ͅ ̴̧̨̳̘͉̘̻͖̤̦̯̥̳͗̎̾̉̇͊̂̄̀̕č̷̢̟͍̱̬͈̹̝͐̈́̂͒̃̆ȍ̸̺͇̲̯̯͉͉̜̣͍̏͑̂͛́͑n̸̞̼̩̙̫̦͖͇̤̈̈́͗̑͐̍̄̂̆̔͌̆͘͘̕v̵̡̢̡̼̣͉̦̯̟̮̯̑̑͌̀̈̊̽̓̿̽̏̔̌͝ͅi̴̧̡̡̝̹͓̰͕̩̪̬͍̫̰̰̓͒̋́̇̃̈́n̶̺̜͑͋̀ͅc̶̢̻̐̔͛͊͒͝î̸͈̖̘̮͉̳͉n̷̹̮̟̟̗͐̈̃̊̓͌̚g̶̨͚͚̰̮̭̻̟̐́̐̒͋͛̓̀̈́͜͜ ̴̺͈̻̬̯͔͑̇̏̎̈́ͅš̸̡̛͍̤̼̪̬̪͕̐̚͝ẗ̷̗̬̬͍́̓̀͊̉̏̓͠͝ó̸̡̫̥̙̣͍̻̌̒̊̑̊̑̔̒̀̀̀̆͠͠ͅr̷̛̞̝̈́̌̌͒͗͝y̵̡̡͈̝͍̳̬̭͚̫̜̙̟̘͊̅̓.̵̨̳̿͝”̸̡̨̺̮̣͉̗͈̤̞̠̠̰͚̽̃͒̀͒̇͊̈́̕̕͝


The two wandered away from the secluded area, and back to the crowd. They played the game flawlessly- convincing the crowd of their little lie. Making it believable for the two “strangers” to fall in “love.” As they went through town, the day started to close. Maestro teleported them to his abode for the night. To his surprise, their was a gift out front from Trixie. He opened it, and laughed. Moonrise raised an eyebrow. “A gift from somebody close to you, I presume?”

He wiped his tears from how hard he’d laughed, and calmed himself. “Yeah, it’s from a friend. But the gift- I believe she doesn’t know its implications. I’ll rectify that.” He then quickly wrote a letter, and sent it off in his magic. He grinned. “Imagine her face when she finds out just what it means to send me this.”

Moonrise took a look at it, and immediately understood. Her face went red, and she tried to contain her laughter. “Oh, boy she’ll be embarrassed! Then again, it’s not like she knows much about our culture’s traditions…” They went inside, and rested separately. After all, they only needed to keep the illusion up out in public.

Back in Ponyville…

Trixie was chatting with her friends in her house when a flash of turquoise popped a scroll in front of her. Surprised to see something form Maestro, she opened it. As she read it, she got more and more embarrassed. She quickly dropped it after a certain point, and opted to run to her room, and push her face into her pillow. One of her friends picked up the letter after Trixie left, and read it.

Dear Trix,

I didn’t know you liked me like that! Heh, just messing with you. Let me tell ya- receiving a crystalline figurine from you was unexpected. The giving of crystalline objects is considered an intimate gesture back home, and if it is a figurine of the receiver- like what you got me- It’s considered a proposal of marriage. I imagine you must be pretty embarrassed about that. Don’t worry, I know you were ignorant of this beforehand, so I’ll let it slide. But still, it was pretty funny. Anyway, thanks for remembering my Birthday! I’ll send you something on yours, just remember to open this one, alright? I’ve notice that you haven’t opened any of the others I’ve sent over the years- not that I mind, really. Anyway, I’ve got to get ready for my tour of Equestria- and when I drop by next, you’ll get to meet my new girlfriend. Yes, I know it seems sudden, but Moonrise and I really seem to connect. See ya soon!

Your dear friend,

Maestro S. R. E. Spectrum

Needless to say, Trixie felt that she would never live this blunder down. At least her friends understood why from the get-go this time. They promised to help her get over this, no matter how long it took.