My Little Planeswalker: Sideboard Stories

by Zennistrad


Revels Unbound

“Water, thirty-five liters. Carbon, twenty kilograms. Ammonia, four liters. Lime, one-point-five kilograms. Phosphorus, eight hundred grams.”

Late one afternoon, far away from the watchful eyes of pony society, a lone mare was hard at work. The darkened room was cluttered with utensils, beakers, and measuring tools of a trade few had ever mastered. Some would have even argued that it was better for such secrets to remain hidden. Regardless, the mare continued her task, muttering to herself as she labored.

“Salt, two hundred fifty grams. Saltpeter, one hundred grams. Sulfur, eighty grams. Fluorine, seven-point-five grams. Iron, five grams. Silicon, three grams, and a small amount of fifteen other elements.”

Finally, after much preparation, all the pieces were in place. The transmutation circle began to glow with a dim light, sending a chill down the mare’s spine. A bubbling hiss sounded out, sending a overpowering, sickly-sweet smell across her nostrils. The moment she had been awaiting had finally arrived.

Pinkie Pie pulled back the window blinds, illuminating the kitchen’s interior. “Cake batter’s done!”

In a single, smooth motion, so quickly that many would have missed it, she picked up massive, pony-sized bowl of cake batter from the center of circle, and hoisted it onto her back. Gliding smoothly over to the kitchen counter, she methodically carried the bowl over to a series of cake pans, carefully pouring the pinkish, sugary-sweet batter into each one. Within moments, she was literally juggling the cake pans, miraculously spilling none of their contents as she tossed them into her custom-built, patented Pink-O-Matic Baking Oven.

A subtle tingle tugged at the frog of her right rear hoof, alerting Pinkie to the arrival of new customers. Leaving the cakes to bake in the oven, she trotted out to the shop’s front counter to greet the new arrivals.

“Hi! Welcome to Sugarcube Corner! What can I get— whoa.

Throughout her life, Pinkie had always embraced the element of surprise. Few ponies ever had ever known what exactly to expect from her next. It was rare, then, that the surprise didn’t come from herself.

“Heh... wow! I didn’t know Nightmare Night was early this year!” Pinkie remarked. “I mean, you’ve got it all! The grey robes, the glowing red eyes, the way the room suddenly got colder when you walked in, how everything beneath your hoods looks totally pitch-black, as though it were swallowing and consuming the very light itself... You guys have some real dedication to your costumes, I can tell!”

The hooded pony’s eyes narrowed. Briefly, it glanced back at the two hooded following it, then turned back to face Pinkie. “We require... a cake.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place!” said Pinkie. “What kind of cake do you need? We’ve got chocolate cake, spice cake, carrot cake, pumpkin cake, pound cake... not to be confused with the foals named Pumpkin and Pound Cake, can you imagine how mad Mrs. Cake would be if I sold them? We’ve got butter cake, vanilla cake, cheesecake, gingerbread cake, and and at least a dozen other types that I probably can’t name here without having to pause for breath...” Pinkie paused momentarily, inhaling loudly. “...Oops, too late! So, what kind of cake do you need?”

The three hooded ponies huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. A chill wind blew through the room. Slowly, they turned back, and the first of them spoke in a grim, hushed voice. “Chocolate... shall suffice.”

“Great!” said Pinkie. She pulled out a notepad and pencil from somewhere, and jotted down the order as quickly as she could. “I’ll put you in for one chocolate cake, then!”

“Excellent,” said the hooded pony. “The contract is sealed. Do not disappoint us.”

The wind howled, and the three ponies swiftly turned and trotted out the door.

“Hey, wait!” Pinkie called out. “You forgot to tell me where to drop the cake off! And you still gotta pay for it!” By then, however, the three had already left.

Pinkie shrugged. “Oh, well. I’ll find them later.”

————————

The next several hours were... not uneventful, per se. "Uneventful" was the last word that could possibly describe any day in Pinkie's life. But it was routine, in the sense that she spent every day trying to find new ways to surprise ponies and make them smile. It was a spontaneous routine, or perhaps a routine spontaneity.

After popping out of the mailbox to say "hello" to the local mailmare (which she could tell was appreciated, judging by how fast she flew away), Pinkie followed her secret passage through space, popping from a bush just in front of Cheerilee's schoolhouse. Reaching into the vast sea of cotton candy fluff some would call her mane, she pulled out a large pan of freshly-baked cupcakes. With a series of distinct sproings she hopped her way through the door, and into the classroom.

Her presence was immediately greeted with a chorus of gasps from the fillies and colts, followed by excited whispers. Cheerilee turned her attention away from the chalkboard, smiling warmly.

“Hello, Miss Cheerilee!” said Pinkie. “I heard it’s somepony’s birthday today, so I brought cupcakes!”

Yeah, cupcakes!

I want one!

Me first, me first!

“Alright class, settle down!” Cheerilee called back. “I’m sure Miss Pinkie Pie will be happy to pass them out. May I ask who this is for, Pinkie? I hadn’t heard from any of my students about a birthday today.”

“Hmm, let’s see here.” With the deftness of a cheetah, Pinkie tossed the plate of cupcakes and balanced it on her head, while she reached into the curls of her tail hair and pulled out a notepad calendar. Listed within it were all of the birthdays in Ponyville, and on today’s date she could see the name of one pony in particular circled. “Ah, here it is. Lily Pad, turning twelve years old today? So where’s the special birthday filly?”

“She’s not here today, I’m afraid.” Cheerilee looked pensive for a moment. “Actually, now that you mention it, I’ve been wondering about her absence. I’ve tried to call her parents, but it looks like they don’t have a telephone line.” Pinkie nodded along at the explanation — telephones were on the cutting edge of technology, and many hadn’t adopted them yet. “Could you just check on her and make sure she’s not skipping school?” Cheerilee continued. “I wouldn’t take her for the sort of pony to be truant, but you never know.”

“Okie dokie, Loki!” said Pinkie. “Sorry kiddos, but it looks like I’ll have to save these cupcakes for later. Can’t have the birthday treats without the birthday pony, after all!”

Stuffing the tray of cupcakes back into her manespace, Pinkie bounced away, already intent on fulfilling Cheerilee’s request. Though it pained her to hear to the chorus of disappointed ‘awwws’ from the classroom, she couldn’t even bear to think about the look on Lily Pad’s face if she knew that she missed her own classroom celebration. When it came to parties, sometimes a sacrifice had to be made.

————————

Knock knock knock.

...

Knock knock knock.

...

....

.....

Knock knock knock.

A deep frown crossed Pinkie Pie’s face, an activity that was no less than strenuous given how little she exercised her frown muscles. “Still no answer? I don’t understand. I’ve been knocking for ten minutes straight!”

Of course, there was always the possibility that nopony was home. Even though it was a fairly nice house, Pinkie couldn’t imagine any young filly wanting to stay inside on a nice Spring day. Unless she was a bookworm. Or she was sick. Or she couldn’t figure out how to open the door, and was trapped inside.

...Maybe I should take a look. Just in case.

Following a path that couldn’t be explained, Pinkie effortlessly slipped through space and past the door. She arrived at a moderately-sized foyer, with a single glass chandelier and a white wooden staircase, sparsely decorated otherwise. While not a particularly fancy room, it showed that Lily’s parents had considerable income.

...of course, that raised the important question of where her parents were. Probably at work, or on a shopping trip, but then where was Lily?

A twisty, wrinkly sensation nipped at Pinkie’s rear-left inner kneecap. She wasn’t sure what that one meant, but the feeling in her gut told her it was nothing good. Trepidation gnawed at her from within as she cantered into the living room.

The first thing she’d noticed was that the room was unusually drafty. Even though it was in the middle of springtime, the breeze that blew in was downright chilling. And it was easy to see where the draft had come from, given the large open window behind the couch.

Pinkie’s stomach began to twist itself into a knot. Wasting no time, she made her way over to the window, closely examining the surrounding area. The couch in front of it was damp, as were the windowsill and curtains.

It rained last night. That must mean the window’s been open since before this morning.

Pinkie didn’t want to assume the worst, but the worst assumptions couldn’t help but burst into her mind uninvited. More clues. She needed more clues. Her eyes rapidly scanned the room, and she found it right beneath her nose.

There, wedged between two of the couch cushions, was a single black cloth, ripped at the edges. Carefully reaching into the couch cushions and pulling it loose, she peered closer to examine it further, and what she saw nearly turned her blood to ice. There were subtle yet distinct bite marks on the cloth, from a bit far too small to have been an adult pony.

There was only one conclusion she could reach. The cloth had been torn loose during a struggle.

Pinkie wasted no time making her exit. One thing had become clear; a little filly was now in danger, and next to that everything else was unimportant. Quickly tracing the path of the presumed foalnappers, she dove out the still open window, intent on following their trail.

Thankfully, the rain from last night had made the soil just soft enough for hoofprints to be left in the dirt, which the offending ponies hadn’t bothered trying to cover. Either they were sloppy, or they simply didn’t expect anyone to pursue them. Given Lily’s parents seemed to be out of town, either option was a possibility.

But soon that didn’t matter, as the trail quickly led Pinkie past the back yard, across the fields of grass on the outskirts of Ponyville, and beyond. The trail grew colder, and the hoofprints grew harder and harder to follow, and yet still she persisted. She couldn’t give up now, wouldn’t give up now. And with the helpful itches and twitches of her Pinkie sense, she was able to keep herself on the right path, even as the hoofprints faded into nothingness.

After almost thirty minutes of following the trail, Pinkie came to a stop. She hadn’t paid attention to where she was going, and that lack of attention immediately came back to bite her when she slammed face-first into a tree. As she stopped to shake the wooziness and splinters out of her head, her attention was pulled for the first time to her surroundings.

The Everfree Forest. She was right in the middle of the Everfree, so deep that she could no longer see the sky through the thick canopy overhead. How she had failed to notice that was... actually sort of obvious, now that she thought about it. Her mind was so much more interesting than the world was sometimes, she couldn’t help but be pulled into it.

Focus, Pinkie. You came here for a reason.

Pinkie took in a deep breath, clearing her mind of distractions. From the area just beyond the tree, she could hear something — a rhythmic, circular chant steadily growing in volume and intensity. The words were in a language that she couldn’t quite make out, though the shivers running down her spine told her that it was something ominous.

Then, her heart skipped a beat as a new voice called out, in perfectly clear Equestrian.

Help me!

Lily Pad. That had to be her voice. It was desperate, strained, and cracking, as though worn down by hours upon hours of screaming. Swallowing a thick lump in her throat, she slowly crept past the line of trees before her. Beyond it was a small clearing, where a thick, grey storm cloud choked the sky above. Even though it was in the middle of the day, everything below the sky seemed to be cloaked in a state of perpetual nightfall.

But what Pinkie saw next was far, far worse. She stifled a gasp, and swiftly dove behind a tree for cover, peering around it at the horrible procession happening just before her eyes.

In the center of the clearing was a circle of hooded ponies, much like the ones that had approached Pinkie earlier that day. They chanted among themselves in a deep, guttural language as they huddled around a strange object — a flat, table-like structure carved from gnarled, wrinkled wood. The truth didn’t take long to puzzle out: it was an altar.

Pinkie couldn’t remain focused on the altar, however, as there were four more hooded ponies approaching the circle from the other direction. They carried on their backs a large wooden plank, where a cream-colored pegasus filly with a lavender mane lay, all four of her legs tied down with crude ropes. Her eyes were red, dry and drooping with bags — no doubt she had been crying out all day.

Help! Somepony, please!

The apparent cultists paid her continued wailing no mind, as they hastily dropped the plank onto the altar, then joined the rest in the circle. From there, another hooded pony stepped forward, one with a far more ornate robe, decorated with golden embroidery. The outside of the hood was adorned with a golden diadem, woven directly into the shadowy fabric, which curled and jutted outwards from the front in four points. They looked like vaguely a goat’s horns, but Pinkie had never known of any goat with four of them. It was apparent at once that this hooded pony was the cult’s leader, and as they approached the altar, the terrified filly before them trembled in silence.

“Brothers, sisters, and kindred of all kinds,” the leader spoke, “we are gathered here on this fine day for a truly momentous occasion. For thirty long years we have endured, without the boundless freedom that filled our hearts. As the fires of the Great Revel perished, we were left only with the tyranny of awareness, the burden of knowledge and thought. Even as I speak, our instincts remain shackled, our impulses held in bondage. Free no more to laugh, to love, to know the true meaning of revelry.”

The circled cultists gave a series of disapproving murmurs, which quickly became a chorus of jeers and boos.

The leader held up their hoof, silencing the crowd instantly. “However! Today... today, that shall change. For when the sun reaches its zenith, its light shall pierce the clouds, and the stars will at last be in alignment! No more shall we remain imprisoned by our inhibitions! No longer will we be slaves to our own reason! When our King at last returns to us, we shall forever be wrapped in the fires of passion!”

A series of excited whispers broke out among the cultists, growing ever louder and louder, until the circled ponies stomped their hooves in excitement, pounding the ground with the force of their applause. It was then, that an all-too-familiar sound struck Pinkie’s eardrums.

Was that... a noisemaker? And a party horn?

Before Pinkie could see where the sounds had come from, the clouds covering the sky split open, and she was nearly blinded by the sudden influx of light. A single beam of sun poured through the opening, framing the altar within its spotlight. The terrified filly still bound to it winced as the light poured into her eyes unprepared.

The cheering crowd faded away, their shouts and whistles replaced by awestruck murmurs. The cult leader stepped forward once more, until they were directly over the altar. As the blackness of their cloak hungrily swallowed the sunlight it touched, the leader reached into their pocked and pulled out...

...Had Lily Pad’s scream not eclipsed her own, Pinkie would have given herself away. The cult was curled their foreleg around a sharp obsidian knife, staining the sunlight as it reflecting the sunlight off the multifaceted edge.

For your return, King Stranger, we make this sacrifice! Let the flames you ignite consume us, in this life and the next!

Wait! Stop!

Before she had even thought of a plan, Pinkie was leaping out from her hiding space, in full view of the now-astonished crowd. Already she could feel the astonished glances turning into furious glares, even though the cultists’ eyes remained concealed. Uh-oh. Think fast.

“Did, uh... did somepony here order a cake?” Reaching out into... somewhere, Pinkie pulled out a very large chocolate cake, easily four times as tall as her own body. She didn’t even remember baking it before, but she wasn’t about to question her own bizarre workings.

The cult leader turned towards Pinkie, and at once she could feel their icy stare. The seconds ticked by as the chill lingered, the leader remaining as unreadable as ever.

“Yes... yes, I believe we did,” the leader finally spoke. “You may leave it here. We are busy, you see.”

“Whoa, hold on there, buddy!” Pinkie said. “I can’t leave yet! Are you nuts?” She cantered towards the altar, the gathered circle parting to let her pass. Judging by their continued whispering, they were nothing short of completely bewildered. Good, she thought.

“I... what do you mean?” said the leader.

Approaching the altar, she began to slowly untie the ropes keeping Lily Pad bound. The young filly looked up at her with tearful eyes, but kept silent as Pinkie gave her a wry wink. So far, the cultists were too dumbfounded to even process what was happening, exactly as Pinkie had wanted it.

“Easy! You haven’t paid for it yet! Gotta make a living somehow, you know?”

“I, er... ah. Well, then,” said the leader. A muted cough came from beneath their hood. “I’m, uh... I am afraid our way of life doesn’t allow for the stress of managing abstract currencies. The pleasures we embrace are far more... immediate in nature.”

“Ooooooh. Gotcha. Well, in that case, how about we make a trade? Sounds good, right?”

“Er... yes, of course,” said the leader. “What do you propose?”

“Simple!” said Pinkie. With the last of the restraints unbound, she swiftly scooped Lily up and hoisted the filly onto her back. “I leave you with the cake to distract you, and in return I rescue the foal you abducted! ’Kaythanksbye!

“Wait, what!? No! After her!

By the time the cult leader had called out, however, Pinkie had already left them in the distance, running as far as her legs could possibly carry her. It wouldn’t be long before she was out of the Everfree Forest entirely, returning the terrified Lily Pad to her home.

Or at least, that would be that case, were it not for a single problem. She didn’t remember the path she took into the Everfree to begin with.

The sound of hoofbeats behind her let Pinkie know that she was still being pursued. Worse yet, the hoofbeats were getting louder. They were gaining on her, and gaining quickly. These ponies no doubt knew the Everfree better than she did, and would catch up to her in short order.

“Um.... miss Pie?” said Lily Pad.

“Please, call me Pinkie.”

“O-okay. Um... Pinkie? Why are we running?”

Pinkie giggled. “Good one! It’s because they’ll catch us if we don’t run away, silly!”

“N-no,” said Lily, “I mean why are we running? Can’t you just use one of your, um... thingies? Where you disappear and the show up somewhere else?”

“Oooooooooh, you mean my shortcuts? Well, I can’t take those if somepony is with me,” Pinkie replied. As she continued running, she raised a hoof to her chin in contemplation. Either her fourth hoof or only-sometimes-present fifth hoof, she couldn’t always be sure. “Although I did once date this weird guy in a hoodie who could. It didn’t work out, obviously, but he had some great jokes!”

Lily cringed silently, still clinging to Pinkie’s barrel. “Is... is that really relevant right now?”

“Nope!” said Pinkie. “Now hold on tight, we’re almost... whoa!

With a sound akin to rubber against pavement, Pinkie skidded to a halt, narrowly avoiding a plummet into a large ravine that had opened up before them. Lily let out a yelp and clung to Pinkie tighter as she stumbled, teetering closer to the edge. As Pinkie regained her footing, she slowly backed away...

...only to stare directly into a dozen or more cultists. Even with their faces obscured, Pinkie could easily see the anger written in every subtle twitch, every sign of tension in their bodies.

“So, uh,” said Lily, “what now?”

Wellllll,” said Pinkie, “based on past experience, as well as the stuffy sensation in my gallbladder, this seems like just about the time one of my friends would worry that something’s up, and then stage a dramatic rescue. I could be wrong, though.”

“...Huh?”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Though the noise of a shattering sound barrier came as a shock to everyone else, Pinkie simply looked upward and gave a knowing grin. Already, she could see the rainbow-colored ring of light illuminating the sky, so intense and powerful that it blew the leaves off the trees, letting everyone below gaze upward at its spectacle.

All at once, the cultists scattered, but their attempts to flee were immediately cut short when another blur of rainbow light zoomed downward. It was in turn joined by another series of multicolored trails. In a coordinated series of movements, they swiftly surrounded the cultists, circling them and dazzling them with their displays of aerial prowess.

Then, within moments, it was all over. The cultists, now soundly defeated, sat on the ground in groups of three, each group wrapped by a ring of cloud that restrained them like tightly-bound ropes. The blurs of color slowed, taking visible shape as they touched down to the ground. There, Rainbow Dash stood, in full Wonderbolt uniform, surrounded by each of her teammates.

“Called it!” Pinkie cheered.

Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “Called what?

Another pegasus stepped forward. Spitfire, judging by the bright orange color of the mane poking through her uniform. “Better question. What exactly are you doing getting involved with these cultists? Nopony outside of us has intel on this group at all.”

“W-wait!” Lily called out. She hopped off Pinkie’s back, and stared up at Spitfire with wide, quivering eyes. “Please don’t be mad at Pinkie! She was just trying to save me! I-if she hadn’t found me when she did, I... I...”

As Lily’s words trailed off, Pinkie reached out with a foreleg, and wrapped her in a tight hug. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re going to be fine now, okay?”

Spitfire opened her mouth to speak, only for Rainbow Dash to raise a hoof, cutting her off. “Let me handle this, Spits. You’re terrible with foals, remember?”

Spitfire’s lips curled into a frown, but then relaxed shortly after. “...Yeah, that’s fair.”

Approaching slowly, Rainbow pulled her goggles up, and looked Lily in the eye. “Hey. You’re Lily Pad, right? From the same class as Scootaloo?”

Lily sniffed, wiping a tear from her eye. “...Yeah.”

“Is everything okay?” said Rainbow. “Where are your parents?”

Lily’s eyes trailed toward the ground, her ears drooping by the side of her head. “I don’t have a dad,” she said. “And mom is away on business trip. She left me with a babysitter, but they... I... I-don’t think they were very nice. They took me away, and tied me up, and t-there was a knife, and... and...”

Once again, Lily let out a sob. She pulled back towards Pinkie, who reached out once again to comfort her. Slowly, Lily’s shivering began to fade away, replaced with slow, hiccuping breaths.

Spitfire’s eyes went wide, her dilating pupils visible even through her goggles. “A sacrifice,” she snarled. “I’d heard the rumors, but I didn’t think they’d actually do it, the bast—”

“Let’s keep the language age-appropriate, Spitfire,” Rainbow cut in.

“...Right. My bad.”

“Shhh. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” Pinkie offered a few last words of reassurance to Lily, before turning to face Spitfire. “So what’s this about the ‘intel’ you have? I’d never even heard of a cult like this before!”

Spitfire shook her head. “I’m not supposed to tell you, but since you already met them, I suppose there’d be no harm. There used to be small village near the southern edge of the Everfree, until it burned down thirty years ago under mysterious circumstances. We don’t know exactly what caused it, but we’ve found evidence it was linked to cult activity that popped up in the Everfree afterward. Though we’ve had some difficulties tracking them, we received an anonymous tip that they’d be up to something today.”

“Wow!” said Pinkie. “So the Wonderbolts do spy stuff now? I had no idea!”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Well, duh. The Wonderbolts were founded by veterans when the military disbanded. This sort of stuff falls to us by default.”

“Oh yeah!” said Pinkie. “I remember that now! I helped you study that, right?”

Please don’t tell me you’re going to do the rap again.”

“I’m sorry,” said Spitfire, “the what now? Did I miss something here?”

“No,” Rainbow deadpanned. “No, you did not.”

“Um, excuse me,” Lily chimed in. All eyes turned to her as she stepped forward. “I’m... not sure what you guys are talking about, but what’s going to happen to me now? I... I don’t have to go to school, do I? Class was supposed to have a birthday thing for me today, but I must have missed it already...”

There was a pause, as Rainbow and Spitfire shared a glance, and then turned towards Pinkie, gazing at her expectantly.

“Hey, don’t worry,” said Pinkie. “After everything that’s happened, I’m sure Cheerilee won’t mind if you took the rest of the day off. Plus when you get back, your class can have birthday cupcakes and a congratulations-on-escaping-ritual-sacrifice-from-a-weirdo-cult cupcakes!”

The corners of Lily’s mouth twitched. Though at first they seemed hesitant, before long they curled upwards into a smile. “R-really?”

Pinkie nodded vigorously. “Mmm-hmm! And if you need someone to babysit, I can stick around until your mom gets back. How’s that sound?”

Lily’s smile grew wider. “I... I think I’d like that, yeah.”

Returning the smile, Pinkie leaned in as Lily once again came forward into a hug. There would undoubtedly be more issues to work out with Lily, things to explain to her mother and her class. Such a close brush with death would undoubtedly have left a lasting mark on a little filly, ones that couldn’t be solved with a simple smile. And knowing that brought a heaviness to Pinkie’s heart that she couldn’t ignore.

But right now, in this moment, Lily was happy, and seeing that made Pinkie happy. That was all the reason she ever needed to be there for someone in need.

And yet still, questions lingered on her mind. Where did the cult come from? Who had given the Wonderbolts the anonymous tip that brought them here? Just what exactly happened thirty years ago?

Perhaps she would never know. And for what it was worth, Pinkie was okay with that.

————————

Pinkie, Joyful Hedonist 2BRR

Legendary Creature — Horse

Each nonland card you own that isn't on the battlefield has madness. The madness cost is equal to the card's mana cost reduced by 1. (If you discard a card with madness, discard it into exile. When you do, cast it for its madness cost or put it into your graveyard.)

At the beginning of your upkeep, discard a card at random.

”What can I say? Sometimes I even surprise myself!”

3/3

————————

Thirty years earlier...

Seeing everything before him burning was not a new experience. Twelve hundred years of walking the planes meant that not a lot of things were new. Yet despite the familiarity of the situation, Time Turner walked forward with trepidation that was entirely unfamiliar.

Where he was could have been described as a village... once. Now, it was little more than a massive collection of bonfires, built from the demolished remains of the wooden houses that bordered the forest. The villagers were all equally unrecognizable. Whoever they may have been before, they had all become gibbering madponies, gleefully dancing, singing, drinking, mutilating and cannibalizing one another, and rolling gleefully in their own spilled blood. Despite everything gruesome he had seen across the multiverse, he still couldn’t bear to give the unfortunate souls more than a passing glance. Not merely out of disgust, but out of fear that making eye contact would break the perception filter shielding himself from notice.

Fear. That was a new sensation. He’d experienced fear before, but never because he feared dying. Killing him in the old days was nigh-impossible, and he’d made a point not to make enemies of the few beings in the multiverse who could. But now it was different. He was fleshy, vulnerable, mortal. And as he approached the center of the village, he felt his heartbeat intensify as his blood ran ever-more thick with fear.

Heartbeat. Singular. What a strange feeling. Back when he was still a shapeshifter, he always kept a spare within him. Redundant organs proved surprisingly useful in most contexts, and it really made him wonder why ponies only bothered with kidneys.

The thought was pushed out of his mind as he reached his destination. A throne, crudely cobbled out of wood and bone, tall enough to stand over all of the bonfires surrounding it. And from atop its seat, above a large volume of equally-crude stairs, sat the one Time Turner was looking for. A red-furred goat, much like the animals native to Equestria, though his four horns and burning eyes made him far more resemble Grogar, the legendary villain of Equestria’s past.

As Time Turner approached, the goat’s eyes gazed down at him. He grinned, and stood up from his slouching posture, the crimson light of flames reflecting off his teeth.

“What do we have here? Another pony eager to take part in our celebration? Feel free to join in the festivities, friend. All are welcome in the court of King Stranger.”

Well, as much as I hate to be the killjoy around here, I’m afraid this party’s over,” said Time Turner. “If this little campfire you’ve started spreads any further, it’s liable reach the Everfree Forest and burn the whole thing down. That, and the whole brainwashing thing you’ve pulled. Can’t say I’m a fan of that, really.”

The King gave a deep, gravely laugh. “Oh, I see how it is! Don’t think I can’t see exactly what you are, planeswalker. Only your kind thinks it their place to meddle in affairs beyond their understanding. Only a god can claim power over me. And you, planeswalker, are certainly no god.”

Time Turner paused. His foe was far more perceptive than he’d anticipated. However, he had already revealed a glaring weakness. “I may not be a god, but I know hubris when I see it. And I’m sure you know what they say about pride before a fall.”

Once again, the King laughed. “Pride! The planeswalker thinks he can lecture me about pride! As I’ve said, you fail to understand what it is you’re meddling in. Like all of you who’ve come before, you envision yourself an architect of fate, willfully blind to the depths of your insignificance. But you cannot deny the truth forever. Like all things, you too must one day end. And you know there will come a day where everything you have accomplished is forgotten.”

Time Turner’s eyes narrowed. “You can wax philosophical all you like, but I’m still going to stop you. Either free these ponies from your spell, or I’ll break the spell by force. It’s your choice.”

Slowly, the King began to walk down the stairway to the throne, each step carrying the weight of unyielding pride. “Free them? Look around you, planeswalker. I have already freed them. Before me, they had spent every waking moment of their lives burdened by the knowledge of their mortality. But now they know nothing, and are as such forever rid of that burden. Only when one does not fear death can one truly live.”

“No, I’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of true. Evolutionarily speaking. We’d be extinct if we all died too fast.”

The King’s lips curled downwards, into a sneer. “I see. I should have known better than to rely on the folly of reason, especially with one like you. If you refuse see the necessity of my Great Revel, then perhaps you can prove useful as another bonfire. Begone.

There was a shockwave of magical force as the King stomped on the ground. Instantly, a fireball appeared above the King’s horns, and with a swift bob of his head it was sent flying straight towards Time Turner. Leaping backwards and up into the air, Time Turner dodged the brunt of the blast, feeling only a light singe as the explosion toasted the air.

When the fallout of the explosion dissipated, Time Turner carried his downward momentum as he continued falling as he prepared a magical counterattack. A fast-time bubble formed at the end of his right-rear hoof, superheating the air within it. Then, with a powerful twisting kick, he launched the bubble straight at the King’s forehead.

There was a deafening shockwave of sound as the bubble burst on impact, the hot air exploding into a blast of concentrated sonic energy. The force of the impact sent the King flying backwards, directly into the base of the throne. As Time Turner landed on four hooves, the throne collapsed from the impact, sending a massive cloud of dirt and splinters billowing into the air.

After several seconds of silence, the cloud of dust faded away. In its place was the King, horns cracked and fur matted with blood, glaring at Time Turner through gritted teeth.

“So,” said Time Turner. “Are you ready to give up now?”

The King hesitated. His anger was palpable, so much that the already-blistering heat seemed even more intense. Yet in time, his gritted teeth turned into another vicious grin. His eyes flashed red, shining brightly with a new magic. “...As you wish, planeswalker. The rest, I shall leave to you.”

Time Turner opened his mouth to speak, but by then, the King was already fading away. Wisps of flame engulfed his body, the familiar magic of the spark tingled at Time Turner’s spine.

Bloody hell, of course he’s also a planeswalker. How did I not figure that one out sooner? And just what did he mean by—

His thoughts were immediately interrupted, when the sound of hoofsteps approached from all sides. All around him, the villagers had gathered, their eyes blazing with malicious intent.

“Ah. That’s what he meant. Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me still.” Time Turner sighed, and then assumed a fighting stance as the horde closed in. “Oh, well. Sorry in advance for this, everypony! Allons-y!