Trixie felt that she should be more surprised at this revelation than she was.
“Great,” she said casually. “What else is new?”
Discord widened his eyes in a miffed expression. “Trixie, this is serious.”
“And you seriously think that you have no enemies?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“Hang on,” Spark interjected, one hoof clumsily in the air. “W-what’s going on?”
“You’re not apart of this,” the draconequus snapped, extending one claw toward him. He glanced at Trixie. “We need to head outside.”
Glancing back at Spark, she mumbled, “Right.” She followed Discord out the door and up the stairs.
“So, what’s going on, Discord?” she asked, stopping in front of him. She raised an eyebrow.
The draconequus hesitated, his eyes drifting away from hers. He heaved a heavy sigh. “All right, fine. Let me tell you a story.” His legs lifted off the ground, assuming a semi-reclined position. He picked at his claws. “A long time ago, when I took the throne from the Two Princesses, I was intent on making things as comfortable as possible. While redecorating the castle was the first step, I soon found that it wasn’t enough. Nearby, there was a tribe of Zebras who were causing a dreadful amount of trouble. They had a penchant for religion, so I slipped into their minds and changed a few things.”
Trixie’s breath froze in her lungs. “You made them worship you?” She stepped back, aghast.
Discord nodded as if in slow motion. “Bingo,” he said, his voice falling flat like iron.
The unicorn stiffly squared back up to him, knitting her eyebrows. “But that doesn’t make any sense,” she breathed. She gestured back to the town. “Why would the chief want to kill you if you’re their god?”
Sitting up, the draconequus landed once again on the wooden cantilever. “That’s the question at hand,” he said, stroking his goatee. “I can only assume it’s because he thinks that I’m not the real Discord. Which is funny, because there’s only one of me.”
Trixie nodded slowly to herself, absorbing all of the information. She’d never figure that Discord, even unreformed, would go that far. She just couldn’t wrap her head around it.
She shook the thought out of her mind. That wasn’t important right now. What was important was how to right the situation at hoof. “What do you need me to do?” she asked submissively.
Discord flicked out one claw from his goatee. “I need you to put on a show. We need to gather all of the residents in one area. Once we do that, we can undo the spell.”
Trixie raised an eyebrow, stepping forward, letting one hoof dangle. “What about Boona?”
The draconequus sighed. “That's the tough part. You see, I went up to him to ask him to gather the town together so I can undo it. That's why he thinks I'm not the… genuine article, you could say.” He rolled his shoulders back. “With him convinced of that, it'll be much harder to pull this off before word spreads.”
“I can set things up pretty quickly,” she said. “I don't really need an extravagant set to pull off a couple tricks.” She sighed, kicking at the floor. “Even though that would be preferred.”
“I can help with that,” Spark’s voice pierced through the doorway. He stepped out a tad bit too fluidly.
Trixie squared up to him. “You don't have to,” she insisted, reluctance stirring in her gut. “I can do this myself.”
“Please,” he said in a voice close to a whimper. “I… I have to do it. I can't just sit here and watch.”
She cocked her head to the side. This wasn't the dickish pony that she had come to know. This was the face beneath the facade… the true, feeble teenager that Spark had been hiding all along.
“You heard her the first time,” Discord began, scowling. “We don't need--”
“I think…” Trixie interrupted. “I think I would benefit from an extra pair of hooves.”
The draconequus turned to her, his jaw dropped wide. “B-but you just said…”
The unicorn waved her hoof on dismissal. “He should be fine,” she explained. “Besides, he’s an accomplished blacksmith. I'm pretty sure we can put him to great use.”
The teenager perked up. “Thank you!” he beamed. He trotted right next to Trixie, swaying ever so slightly to the right.
Discord blinked, his blank expression between outright confusion and genuine shock. He closed his gaping maw while Trixie held back a snicker. “... A-anyway! I’d rather not be near when all Tartarus breaks loose. I’ll be over…” He looked over each of his shoulders before stabbing a single tallon toward the shack. “I’ll just stay in there. Tell me when you’re done, and I’ll start gathering the zebras around.”
Trixie nodded. Probably for the best, she thought. If word spreads too quickly, best he stays as far away as possible. She gestured Spark along, walking up to the street. She cast her eyes about, and oddly enough, the once populated streetside was vacant. She bit her lip. Word cannot have spread that fast.
“Spark,” she called.
“Yes, Trixie?”
“I need something to elevate me a little above the crowd,” she requested, raising her hoof until it was dangling in front of her chest. “A rock, a soapbox…” A stage. “Anything that will do the trick.”
Spark nodded emphatically. “Actually, we keep a soapbox near Boona’s house. He uses it for his sermons.”
“That’ll work.”
The teenager nodded once more, galloping toward the fork.
Exhaling a puff of air, Trixie lit her horn and undid her saddlebags. She was floating when the weight lifted off of her. She lay them out in front of her, undoing a latch, and rummaging through her belongings.
A couple smoke bombs, she listed mentally. Cloth, necessities—
She stopped when she came across a small wooden box. It was red oak and pretty weighty for its size. All of the corners were rounded except for the bottom that was covered with black felt. Engraved on it was a perfectly rounded heart with the cursive inscription of Momma below it.
Trixie’s heart fell when she saw it. How long had she been carrying it around for? Had it been that long? She lit her horn, twirling the box gently before her. After a moment’s hesitation, she opened it, revealing a silver necklace, an amethyst in the shape of a four-point star hanging at the front.
“Got it!” Spark’s voice proclaimed in the distance. Trixie jumped, hurriedly stuffing the necklace back into the box and into her saddlebag. Spark appeared around the far corner, the soapbox swaying to one side and the other on his back. Fighting her muscles clenching, she galloped toward him, lighting her horn just before the box toppled of his back. Feeling her mind strain, she levitated the box in front of her.
“This is a lot... heavier than Trixie anticipated,” the unicorn grunted. She turned walking a few steps toward the center of the street. She fought her own shakiness as she set the box down with a light clunk. She didn’t know that she was holding her breath until she let go of the box, letting out a puff of air.
“Nothing but the best for Boona,” he sighed caustically. He walked over to her, studying the box.
Trixie clenched her jaw so it didn’t fall open. For a tipsy teenager, Spark appeared to be doing quite well. How in the world did he even get the soapbox on his back? She thought in awe.
Spark circled the soapbox once more with a blank expression. As if suddenly realizing what he was doing, he blinked, leaning to one side. “Is there anything else that you need?” he asked, whatever eagerness he had had evaporating from his voice.
She frowned, stepping on the soapbox. The teenager’s head was up to her knee. Good, she thought. She lifted her head, scanning the area around her. The street was plenty wide, enough to fit quite a few zebras who wanted to look in. And with her on the soapbox, she wouldn’t be obscured in the crowd.
She nodded to herself. “There’s nothing else I can think of,” she admitted, stepping down from the soapbox. A jolt of pain shot up her leg and across her barrel, and she flinched. She carefully walked her hind legs down.
She saw Spark knitting his eyebrows. “Well,” he started, puffing his cheeks out. “What now?”
Trixie knit her eyebrows, stretching her foreleg out in front of her and leaning back. “We figure out the show, I guess.” Once the pain subsided, she squared right back up, the back of her foreleg buzzing.
Her eyebrows deepened to a scowl. There wasn’t much here. All she had was just the standard things; no big props to leave an impression. She could do the small things, but it just wasn’t her style. She bit her lip. Discord is counting on me, she remembered.
She inhaled deeply, slowly letting the breath out. She’d have to make an exception this time.
Without thinking, she pulled the cloth out of her saddlebag, careful not to disturb anything else inside. It was thin as paper, yet was a little longer than her. She flicked the cloth, twirling it around itself until it was rolled corner to corner. She gave it a quick tug at both ends, the cloth snapping taut in the middle.
She smiled to herself. Still good, she thought.
But as she was doing this, her mind wandered. Sometimes it ended up in blank places, but mostly, she became curious as to who Spark had been. She gulped. He’d admitted that his parents were a bunch of drunkards. He was no different. But would it be too sensitive a subject to ask? After all, she only knew him for a biggie of a couple hours.
“So Spark,” she said before she was aware of it.
The colt’s head jolted up, as if to a sudden awakening. “W-what is it?” he stammered, sniffing.
Trixie cursed at herself under her breath, anxiety jumping into her throat. She couldn’t go back now. “So… um…” You can do better than this, Trixie! she thought, struggling over both her anxiety and the awkwardness she created. She cleared her throat. “So… who were you? You know, before you came here.”
His expression turned grim. His eyes locked to the floor. “Well… I told you my parents were always drunk. But that wasn’t always the case. In fact, when I was little, they rarely ever touched alcohol.” He inhaled through his nose, stretching back, then exhaled through his mouth. His back slouched before long. “But, when I was about ten, things went down the crapper. I dunno exactly what happened, but I do remember a name: Aurora. That was when the fighting happened.
“Before long, my parents pretty much crippled themselves. They didn’t have enough money to support me, we were about to be evicted, they were filing divorce papers, but couldn’t afford the court fees. So the drinking continued, and the fights got more bitter. About a week before we were to be evicted, I ran away. I couldn’t be around them any longer if they were just going to destroy themselves.
“I remember that I had climbed to the bottom of Canterlot Peak when I’d tripped and fell down that hole.” He extended a hoof, pointing toward the weak shafts of light protruding from where Trixie had fallen. “They were suspicious of me, but rather than killing me on the spot, they jailed me. You see, the Princesses ordered the extermination of the Discordian faith a long time back, and they’ve been living here in secret for a little more than a thousand years. So if anyone got the secret out…”
Trixie nodded, a sick feeling settling in her stomach. That was a part of history that was just glossed over in school. No justification, no details, just that the Two Princesses had gotten rid of the Discordian faith. But to think that it was an all out extermination dumbfounded her.
“So I made a living here, when they had pretty easily convinced me to keep the secret. I have no idea why I came up with the tough facade, only that it put me at ease.” He shifted, puffing his cheeks out. “But I never expected someone to come around and break it down.”
Trixie nodded slowly. That explained why he was here. But he was avoiding the question. “But who were you?”
Spark shrugged. “Nobody, really. Just the common teenager going to trade school. Wasn’t much into the social scene… not like I am now, anyway.” He stretched out a hoof. “I just worked as an apprentice, improving myself until things were just unlivable with my family.” He sighed. “Sorry if it wasn’t as exciting as you thought.”
A tinge of frustration dropped in her chest. His know-it-all-ness didn’t change. “No—Spark. That wasn’t why I asked.”
The teenager sighed once more. “I think we should put together the show,” he said ultimately, his words falling like a thick iron door.
She gulped down her irritation. “Right,” she said flatly, and she went back to her bag, yanking things out one by one, her thoughts weaving together as she brainstormed the possible tricks she could do.
It had only felt like an hour before she had everything set. The show would be brief, barely scraping ten minutes before she ran out of materials to work with.
Anxiety welled up in Trixie’s chest. Even though she was exceptional at it, her gut churned at the thought of improvising. The one time in Canterlot was one of her off moments, but she despised it. That, and what she had planned gave her little comfort.
She bit her lip. It was do or die at this point… maybe literally.
“Okay,” she said finally. She nodded to Spark. “Let’s tell Discord.”
“You rang?” a disembodied voice announced, making Trixie jump. Discord’s body appeared between the two, hovering just above the ground.
She huffed, her heart thumping in her throat. “What was that for? We could’ve just come to you!”
Discord lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I thought I’d spare you the walk. What sort of gentleman would I be to force a lady to come fetch me?”
“Well!” she began, her voice immediately dying in her throat. It was a small gesture, but thoughtful. “Whatever…” she mumbled finally, her cheeks burning.
The draconequus’ lips lifted in a small smirk. “Anyways, shall we begin?”
“I suppose.”
He smiled. “All right. I’ll round up the Zebras.” With a flick of the wrist and a snap, he disappeared in a puff of smoke.
A newfound urgency shot through her body, and she stepped up on the soapbox, facing down the alley. Her eyes shot to her saddlebag, cursing at herself for almost forgetting. She lit her horn, and the long, star-strewn cape flicked in the wind before her. It was a little wrinkled, but it would have to do. She draped it over her back, doing up the collar around her neck, straightening it up.
Positions!
She squared herself up to the river of black and white heading toward her, whatever anxiety that was left over dissipating. Check.
Game face on!
The magician straightened her posture, her mind focused on the crowd. She was there to please, to entertain. She not only would hold the attention of the audience, she was the master of their minds. Check.
The crowds got closer, and in the back of her mind, she was impressed with Discord. He was doing his magic. Resolve steeled her heart. Show time!
“Come one, come all!” she proclaimed, shooting a hoof in a sweeping motion outward. “Witness the strange, the wild, the guiles of the Great and Powerful Trrrrrrixie!” She lit her horn, setting off smoke bombs to either side of the soapbox. A jolt of euphoria filled her body, and she reared jovially, relief flooding her body like nothing before.
It’s been a long time, she thought. Too long.
Pride pounded in her heart as the Zebra’s faces made a collective ‘o’, especially the excitement in the foals’ faces. She couldn’t help the wide smile on her face.
Waiting a second more, she lit her horn again, and pieces of cloth jumped forth from the smoke on either side of the soapbox, folding and rolling into snakes. They wrapped around the first wave of the crowd, encircling them and jumping over them. They did the same for the second, then the third before they did an about face, slithering as fast as bullets back toward Trixie, the cloth wrapping around her head, then up like a cone. Slowly, the cloth disappeared into a witch’s hat atop her head. She tilted the brim of the hat halfway over her eyes, a cunning smile on her lips as the first round of applause thundered in.
She took a quick glance toward the back of the crowd, and Discord appeared there. Good job! he mouthed, putting a thumb up. He then put one index claw up, disappearing soon after.
“Trixie would like to thank you all for coming out tonight,” she projected, suppressing a flinch when she realized that she didn’t know if it was day or night at that point. She banished the thought to the back of her mind, and continued. “Now, for Trixie’s next act, she will need a volunteer.”
Hooves speckled the rows of heads, but in about the third row, a small colt jumped up and down, waving his hooves frantically, squeaking words in a language she hardly understood. She laughed to herself. “Why not the enthusiastic colt over there?” she asked, pointing to him. A mare next to him who she guessed was his mother nudged him, mumbling something to him. His jaw fell open, and he pranced up to the side of the soapbox. The smaller, the better, she thought.
“Trixie will make this young colt disappear!” she announced, sliding over, and tapping the space beside her. The colt hopped up to the spot, giggling in excitement. “Now this would be easy for a unicorn such as I,” she continued, the lie flowing smoothly off her tongue. “So, in order to make this much challenging…”
She bent down, lighting her horn. A second later, a ring flew in front of her made out of what appeared to be glossy marble. “This ring will suppress Trixie’s magic,” she exaggerated, showing it around to the crowd. Bringing it back around, she then fitted it atop her horn, letting gravity shove it to the base. She focused on the saddlebag in front of her, stiffening and scrunching her face.
After a small effort, she relented. She undid her cape, flinging it off her back with a hoof. “Now, if Trixie uses her Cape of Wonder…” She draped the cape right in front of the colt’s nose. “... And give it a little flick…” She shoved the cape outward, concentrating hard. Keeping her face straight, she let the cape drop to the ground. She could still see the colt, but the crowd’s eyes went wide, their jaws falling agape. She ignored the colt’s furrowed brow as she stepped aside as far as she could go, gesturing to her side with an open hoof. She took a little curtsey as the crowd began to applaud.
“However,” she began again, stepping off the soapbox. She scooped her cape off the wooden floor with her hoof. “What sort of disappearing act would it be…” She flicked the cape in the wind with both hooves. “If the subject were not to reappear?” She threw the cape up into the air by the edges, soaring remarkably straight up. She relaxed her focus, and the colt reappeared, and the crowd once again gasped in unison, another round of applause coming. She curtseyed once more. The jovial colt hopped excitedly back to his mother.
“What is this?” A voice hissed from the back of the crowd. Boona barged into the crowd, breaking through the front. His roared with a furious fire. He turned back to the zebras, shooting a hoof outward. “You do know that you applaud for an enemy? One of the ones who took our Lord and enslaved him in stone?”
With a flash, Discord materialized beside Trixie. “They’re all here. It’ll take a moment for me to focus on all of them.”
Boona shot a look over his shoulder, flipping around. “And that thing isn’t our Lord!” he bit, jutting his hoof toward him. “He’s a terrorist, trying to strip us of our faith. Was it he who invited you all here? To partake in some pagan sorcery?”
Murmurs stirred in the crowd, and Trixie’s heart dropped in her stomach. This isn’t good, she thought, casting her eyes about, her hoof tucked against her chest. She needed to shut him up. But how?
She reached up to her hat, but froze. “That’s it!” she breathed, fishing her hoof under the brim and tossing it forward. When it squished against Boona’s side, Trixie focused, and the hat unweaved. The tendrils of fabric wrapped around his mouth and his legs, tying off with elegant knots. He gave a muffled scream as he teetered sideways, landing on his cheek with a smack.
She turned, and a sort of haze draped over her mind. “Discord!”
When he opened his yellow eyes, they were bloodshot and contracted. He snapped his claws together, the sound explosive. A pinkish haze settled over the zebras, and startled gasps sounded for a split second before being overtaken by absolute silence. Trixie squinted through the haze. As it cleared, the zebras shot their eyes this way and that. Confused mumbles filled the air as they focused on Discord and her.
To Trixie’s surprise, Discord stepped down from the soapbox, his head hung. “I…” he started, his voice crackling. He inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you,” he finished, his back slumping even further. “You don’t have to forgive me for this. For anything that I’ve done.”
The crowd of zebras glanced toward one another, their mutters laced with fire.
“... Get out,” one said from the midst of them.
The crowd burst into an uproar, the wave of noise hitting Trixie like a tsunami. She took a step back. “Discord!” she yelled in horror as the crowd started to march toward him. But he didn’t move a muscle.
“Trixie!” a voice screamed behind her. She turned to see Spark, one hoof on the soapbox. “Vanhoover and the Crystal Empire! Those were the last places I sold the antiques!”
The unicorn knitted her eyebrows. “Vanhoover and the Crystal Empire,” she echoed. “Got it!” She turned back around, lighting her horn and concentrating. She jumped forward toward Discord, barely getting her saddlebag around her as she pictured the cave entrance. She wrapped her hooves around his neck when she accelerated rapidly. Her ears popped as they both tumbled down the crest of the hill.
At the end of it, they skidded to a halt. Trixie grimaced, the wind knocked out of her. She gathered herself to her hooves, only to notice that Discord was no longer moving. Her chest icy with horror, she crouched over him, his limp body between both her hooves. “Discord!” she exclaimed, her voice raspy. She nudged his cheek, and it limply rolled back into place.
“No, no, no!” she breathed, her heart racing in panic. Did she do this? Was it his magic? Was he hurt while she wasn’t looking? She brought the back of her hoof over his chest.
“My… my…” Discord’s voice weakly mused. “Didn’t know you cared so much, my little magician.”
Whatever breath Trixie had froze in her chest. Her cheeks burned as if she was on fire. She pursed her lips as she stepped off of him. “The Great and Powerful…” She rasped for another breath. “... Trixie was only worried about… losing her guide.”
The draconequus rolled his eyes. “If you say so,” he mumbled, sitting up.
The unicorn closed her eyes, focusing on getting her breath back. That pink mist… what exactly was it? Was it just a visual manifestation of his own magic? Or did he literally make a toxin that got rid of his former spell?
She knit her eyebrows. “Discord,” she began, her voice fuller than before. “Why did you turn them back?”
The draconequus hesitated. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugged. “It just… wasn’t you. As far as I know, you enjoy sowing at least some chaos. Why was this different?”
Discord brought his talon to his chin, his eyes closed. “... Have you ever wanted to change yourself for another person?”
Trixie hesitated. She hadn’t thought much about it. But now that she did… “Yes,” she answered.
“That’s why.” The draconequus shifted. “Ever since Fluttershy came into my life… she showed me a new way of looking at things. A way that was much more fulfilling than what I did in the past.”
He put his claw on his knee. “I still enjoy messing with ponies, yes. But… not in the way I did before. My past actions irk me, and this is one of the only things I could fix from then. I want to change who I am, to be worthy of Fluttershy.”
The unicorn knit her eyebrows. “You say that you want to change… but you just stood there as the crowd got closer. Something tells me that they weren’t going to give you roses. Why did you just stand there?”
Discord gave a low growl, flicking one tallon up. “One: I was exhausted.” Another tallon flipped up. “Two…” His voice faltered. “Just don’t patronize me. I do that enough to myself.”
Trixie sucked in her lips, a pang of guilt hitting against her chest. Although, she wondered what he was going to bring up as number two. But she had no time to dwell on it, as the draconequus cleared his throat, clapping his claw and talon on his thighs, standing. “Well, we’d better be moving. If they find a way out of the cave, they will be none too happy to see us.”
The unicorn nodded, straightening up and shaking the guilt out of her head. “Good thing the Clever and Insightful Trixie knows where to go next.”
“... Meaning that that colt told you where his last shipments went.”
“It was hard hearing his voice over the crowd, okay?” she defended. She cleared her throat. “We’re headed to Vanhoover next.”
“It takes almost twelve hours to go there by train,” Discord said. “Unless you can teleport us there.”
“I’ve… only been there once before honestly,” she managed, rubbing her hoof and bowing her head down. “And it’s a long time away. While Trixie is the Greatest and Powerfullest, and could definitely perform a teleportation spell under normal circumstances…”
“You can’t teleport us there.”
“It’s a rather simple way to put it.” She raised her eyebrow at the draconequus. “Unless you can take us there.”
“Unless you want to be torn into Great and Powerful Ribbons in spacetime, I’d suggest we not use my method.”
“How can yours be so different?” she shot at him.
“Draconequus magic functions on distortions in the fabric of reality.” Discord shrugged. “Normal ponies like you don’t fare particularly well when being thrust to a different dimension.”
She grunted. It was a long walk. It took them nearly three hours to walk from Ponyville to Canterlot, one hour by train. That meant it would take thirty-six hours of continuous walking at best to reach Vanhoover.
Then something clicked, but it wasn’t a good click. “Or…” she started. It was an insane idea. But if Celestia was doing everything she could on her end, perhaps they’d be lucky. She shot a grimace at Discord. “... we could take the train.”