Chapter 25
The Turn of the Tide
Time passed, and Souris had worked her magic on Twilight. From the moment that she arrived in the dark room, Twilight felt herself rapidly changing.
Souris’ cold, clawed hands worked wonders with the fabric she used. Every cut was surgically precise. Every weave was masterfully intricate. And through it all, Souris commanded her magic to make her artistry move as though it were dancing with her.
With flashes of crackling starlight, Twilight watched in awe as the fabric twirled and pirouetted, sending off sparks of the starlit magic every time it was worked on. It was almost tempting for the young alicorn to reach out and touch this magic. But every time her hoof grew close, it fizzled out and dissipated into nothingness.
While slightly disheartening that she would not yet be able to feel such magic for herself, Twilight saw now that it was well within her reach. How long it would take for her to grasp it had yet to be seen.
Souris magically levitated a long ribbon into her hands and magically guided it to the dancing gown. The ribbon slid through her fingers and spooled around the gown as it spun. From there, the lady-bat motioned with her hands to guide the ribbon into spiraling around the gown from the shoulder to the hemline. Once the ribbon was in place, needles and thread marched across the nearby table to complete their duty of stitching the gown.
For every second that passed, Twilight’s eagerness grew. Even though she had only been watching for a few minutes, she was growing impatient waiting to learn more about that wondrous magic.
Finally, the masterpiece was done. The fabrics folded themselves away. The shears, needles and thread all marched back into their box, and the gown Souris was working on did a dainty curtsy, before it fell limp into the lady-bat’s arms.
“I’d say this is one of my best works yet,” Souris complemented herself, as she examined the gown.
Twilight looked at the finished gown, and mentally compared it to other fancy gowns she had seen. After silently appraising it, she spoke her mind.
“It’s beautiful. But, don’t you think it’s a little underdesigned?” Twilight asked.
“Hmf,” Souris said, smirking devilishly at Twilight.
Twilight knew that she had offended Souris. Her mind twisted and jumbled at the thought of Souris rebuking her and losing her one chance to learn any new magic.
“Everyone has their own tastes and sensibilities when it comes to forms of art. However, those without an imaginative bone in their body often have their opinions formed by only one particular way they are familiar with,” Souris answered. “You’ve seen gowns like this before, yes? Made by one of your friends for a modeling show?”
“Yes…” Twilight said, hoping the direction of Souris’ question wasn’t as sinister as it sounded.
“Can I assume it was something with many frills and ruffles? Perhaps a collar that tapered higher in the back? Glitters, sequins and jewels?” Souris asked.
“That’s...not quite exactly it,” Twilight said, remembering some of the designs she had worn for Rarity.
“And you’ve hardly ever experienced the styles of another artist besides your friend,” Souris said, matter of factly.
Twilight nodded, knowing Souris had seen through her once more.
“That’s part of where you lack in creativity. You’ve never seen what more there is in the world. But, I can show you what more there is out there,” Souris said.
Her hands crackled with her magic, animating the gown she held to stand up. With the slightest motion of her arms, the gown simulated walking over to Twilight, facing the Princess of Friendship.
For the strangest reason, Twilight felt as if she were looking at a reflection of herself. A phantom double that foretold all she was to become.
In her mind, Twilight saw herself wearing that dress. She was on the runway out front Amaranthine. Her every step captivated the audience. Her every glance captured the heart of a stallion. In one glorious shimmer, Rarity was the one getting ideas from her, and changed her whole style because of it.
A shadow began to creep through the stage in her mind’s eye. From the stallion whose heart she stole, and from her friend whose imagination she captured, darkness began to pour forth. The umbral entity seeped up her leg and rested on her shoulder, leaving the feeling of ice settling onto her body.
Before herself, Twilight could see a shadowy, demonic face appear. A familiar, horrifying, yet welcoming sight. A face which left her with no fear of what was to come, in spite of her inner feelings telling her to run away.
“What do you think?”
Twilight gasped quietly as she snapped back to reality.
There she was, looking into her own reflection in a mirror with Souris by her side. The lady-bat’s hand was planted gently on her shoulder, exuding the same cold sensation as always. Most surprisingly, through no physical or magical motions, or from any memory she could recall, Twilight was now wearing the gown that Souris had made for her. And what a sight she had become.
As underdesigned as she first thought it was, Twilight found the lack of extravagances added more to her appearance. Her face and body were both highlighted by the sleek, streamlined design, creating the illusion of a shapely, statuesque figure. Her colors were beautifully complemented by every shade of blue that was present on the gown. Even as she moved, everything appeared to glow around herself, almost appearing as if it were enveloped in her own magical aura.
“Souris...this is...I’m…” Twilight said, not sure how to express herself.
“I know. I’ve always been a great believer in ‘less is more.’ The only reason that I would ever add anything to a design is if it helped to convey a particular aspect of the wearer. In your case: the ribbon around your body,” Souris answered.
“The ribbon?” Twilight wondered, as she looked over herself. “Why is the ribbon so special?”
“Just take a look at its motions down your body. It’s the very same as the groove on that horn of yours,” Souris said, as she ran the tip of her claw around the groove of Twilight’s useless horn. “A bearer of great magic, clothed in the very power that others could only wish to possess. And the light that shines from it, the power to enrapture others.”
Twilight looked at herself in the mirror again, and thought she could see what Souris was talking about. But still, she did not quite understand.
“How do you do it, Souris? How do you see things like that so easily?” Twilight wondered.
Souris smirked, making Twilight wonder if that were something she expected her to ask. Or perhaps, something Souris wanted her to ask.
“It’s not so difficult as you may think. You simply need to see the world not as it is, but through your own eyes,” Souris answered.
“But--” Twilight began.
“--You do see the world through your own eyes. Just the same as you can see me in front of you,” Souris finished for Twilight.
Again, Twilight was left speechless at Souris’ ability to see through her so easily. Instead of answering, she simply allowed the lady-bat to continue.
“It’s all a very abstract concept. Easier learned than taught to others,” Souris said. When she saw Twilight’s eager face, she knew she had the alicorn hooked. With a devilish smirk, she knew it was time to continue her lesson. “Although, if you want, I could easily show you, rather than wait for you to grasp it.”
“You can do that?” Twilight said, barely able to contain her excitement.
“For someone like me, it’s easy. All you need is a little imagination,” Souris said.
Upon hearing the word ‘imagination,’ Twilight felt as if she should just give up the whole endeavor in that moment. Stop trying to chase after something unattainable, and simply watch as her friends saved the world from terror.
“No, no, no. Don’t give me that disappointed look. See the world through my eyes. Then, you will be closer to understanding what is within you,” Souris said.
Twilight felt Souris’ cold fingers gently clasp her chin and turn her head to look her directly in the eyes.
“Breathe deeply and see the world as I do. See all that there is through different eyes,” Souris beckoned with a wisp of a whisper.
With a deep, gentle inhale, Twilight became lost in Souris’ warm, red eyes, as though she were looking into the gentle flicker of a candle. Unknown to herself, her own eyes had changed from their normal purple color to the same shade of red as Souris’.
Suddenly, the world around Twilight changed itself. Everything was beautiful. Everything was pristine. Everything sparkled with a heavenly, starlit glow. Despite all the light, Twilight could see clear as crystal.
The tools Souris had used to create the dress Twilight wore were no longer mere thread, needles and shears. They had become something grand and magical.
The shears stood on their own, and slowly danced about with all the beauty, grace and technique of a ballerina.
A sheet of fabric cascaded like a waterfall, which the shears danced around, snipping and cutting the fabric with every graceful movement.
The needles rose from the pincushion as though they were waking up from a comfortable sleep in bed. When they stood, the thread looped itself through their eyes as though it were alive.
Once the needles were threaded, they all jumped from the desk with the grace and choreography of synchronized swimmers. They landed in the cascade of fabric, and started ‘swimming’ their way through. As they dove through the fabric, their threads created intricate patterns, which disappeared as the stitching tightened.
Twilight watched the show in awe. She had never seen anything so captivating in her entire life. But, there was more to see now.
She stepped over to one of the easels, which showed the dress just the way that Souris had drawn it. Only now, it was completely finished, and worn by a model as beautiful as any she had seen.
It was the same with all of Souris’ sketches. But, the most breathtaking of all was the one of her own gown. There, Twilight saw herself, but somehow different. She was vibrant. She was beautiful. She was everything Twilight never thought herself to be.
A glimmer of light caught Twilight’s eye. When she turned to see it, she saw six stones all arranged in a circle. Gold, violet, orange, white, black and yellow they were. Each one was a definition of beauty unto themselves.
This was the world that was not Twilight’s, but the vision of one who saw all as a canvas set to be painted upon. With strokes immaculate and colors true and fair, Souris had created a mirrored universe through no more than her mind’s eye.
The world around Twilight stopped glowing, and Twilight saw the jewels before herself as brilliantly as they were before. Along with it all, her eyes returned to their normal purple.
“Souris...that was…” Twilight said, trying to think of the words.
“It was, wasn’t it?” Souris said. “Imagine only how you could have seen yourself, had you been wearing your intended jewel.”
“My jewel?” Twilight asked.
“Yes. The one that was stolen from me. Which reminds me, I must check on my associate to see if he’s any closer to retrieving it. And then I have to go check on the rest of the models for the show. Will you be alright without me for a few minutes? Perhaps you could spend the time deliberating on what you saw,” Souris said.
“Yes! I think I know exactly what I have to do now! Thank you, Souris! Thank you!” Twilight said, as she hugged the lady-bat. She didn’t even mind that it felt like she was hugging an ice cube.
“That’s all well and good, dear. But, I really must go. So, if you don’t mind,” Souris said, gently removing Twilight’s hooves from around herself.
“Oh. Sorry,” Twilight said.
Souris said nothing more, but the smile on her face made Twilight know that she appreciated the gesture. Silently, she left the room, leaving the young alicorn to excitedly mull over the experience she just had.
Beyond the curtain, far from the sight of anyone else, Souris opened her palm and produced a cluster of starlit magic. In a flash, she disappeared within it, now magically searching for her cohort with the same magic.
A loud, rapid, pattering noise was heard within an abandoned warehouse in Avalon. While in no way audible over the regular noises of the city, if one were one to investigate they would have found Peg-Leg Pete rapidly punching a speed bag that was hanging from a hook.
“An’ have summa dis!” Pete said, switching hands.
Behind him, Souris reappeared in a flash of starlight. The chill down the heavy’s spine let him know who had arrived without even looking. He didn’t even stop whaling on his bag.
“Dere ya are, witch-woman. How’s dat search goin’ for ya?” Pete asked.
“I’ve decided to leave it to you, when I found the last vessel," Souris answered.
"Ya mean de last girl for yer show? Alright. Sounds like things is movin' along smoothly," Pete said, as he unleashed a series of hooks on the speed bag.
"Yes. Which is more than I can say for you, since you’ve decided to goof off instead of work,” Souris said.
With one last powerful strike, Pete stopped punching his speed bag, and turned around to face Souris.
“I know dis don’t look like searchin’. But, trust me: I got it all under control. I’ll have yer jewel back to ya before ya can say ‘smoked hamhock,” Pete touted.
“Ohhhh…” the speed bag groaned.
That was no natural thing for any punching bag to do, even with magic such as theirs. Her curiosity piqued, Souris peered over Pete’s shoulder, and saw the speed bag was not what it seemed. It was a red mantle tied up by its four corners, and she saw someone very small was cinched up inside of it.
“Who is that?” Souris asked.
“Dis is de guy what’s gonna help us get dat bauble for ya’s. An’ believe me, he already ain’t got no choice but to cooperate,” Pete deviously said.
“How can you be sure, after you’ve just punched him into paste?” Souris said.
“‘Cause I got somethin’ he ain’t. An’ he’ll do anyt’ing to get her back,” the heavy said.
“I see,” Souris knowingly said. “Very well. I’ll leave you both to it.”
For as confident as he was feeling in that moment, Pete slowly began to cower as Souris seemed to suddenly grow taller than himself. Standing in her shadow, he could see she had changed completely from what he knew before.
“And if you don’t have that jewel to me before the day is out, I’ll have your flayed skin turned into a rug,” Souris said.
“U-Understood,” was all Pete said.
With a flash of starlight, Souris disappeared to go about the rest of her business.
“Batty ol’ devil,” Pete shuddered, before he untied one corner of the mantle.
As soon as he did, Mickey came tumbling out from the inside. Unfortunately for him, his mantle was still tied up.
“Alright, let me at ‘em! I’ll take ya on all at once, if I have to!” Mickey said, as he dizzily spun around, swinging his fists at the double images his frazzled mind concocted.
“Shut up, runt,” Pete said, before picking Mickey up by the back of his shirt. “You an’ me’re gonna do somet’in we ain’t never done before.”
Mickey yelped when he was plopped hard on top of a tiny, three-legged stool, and got a rump full of splinters.
Pete pulled up a much larger crate and sat on top of it.
“We’re gonna have us a sit down, an’ talk business,” Pete said.
Of all the things Pete had ever done in his life, this was not something Mickey ever expected him to do.
“I don’t wanna get involved in any business o’ yours, Pete. Just hand over Minnie, and I’ll sock ya one just like always!” Mickey said as he boldly stood atop his stool, fists raised for a battle.
With a cacophony of clicks, clacks, clangs and clatters, Pete drew two tommy guns from his jacket, and pointed them directly at Mickey. But, that wasn’t all. Every weapon Pete had in his arsenal was drawn from his jacket. Brass knuckles, billy clubs, rifles, shotguns, lead pipes, blackjacks, six shooters, gatling guns, dynamite, hand grenades, molotov cocktails, swords, knives, boxing gloves, boomerangs, spears, morning stars, maces, mace, tasers, cannons, and even ninja stars were all aimed squarely at the mouse.
“Go ahead, runt. Just gimme a reason,” Pete growled.
Mickey tugged on his collar and swallowed nervously, before he sat back on his splintered stool.
“Heh, alright. I’ll humor ya just this once,” Mickey said.
As simply as it was to close curtains, every one of Pete’s weapons receded back to wherever they had come from.
“Dat’s better,” Pete said, as he calmly lit a new cigar. “I brought ya here, ‘cause I wanted to ask for yer help. See, I needs me a certain jewel what’s been floatin’ around dese parts.”
Pete extinguished his match and blew a ring of smoke at Mickey.
The mouse coughed loudly and tried to fan the smoke away.
“Forget it. Far as I know, you robbed that bozo to get it in the first place!” Mickey accused.
“Ain’t ya got any faith in ol’ Petey? What I told ya I bought it fair an’ square for a little lady?” Pete said.
As Mickey fanned all of the smoke away, he recalled the lady-bat who had approached him earlier. Even though her mere presence was enough to scare the tail off of him, she seemed to him like the type who would never associate herself with one like Pete.
“I’d say ya were a known pathological liar with a rap sheet long as the Grand Canyon. Both those things don’t give me any reason to believe ya!” Mickey said.
Pete blew another cloud of smoke at Mickey, making the mouse cough loudly.
“Will ya stop that!?” Mickey shouted.
The smoke then literally choked Mickey, when it took the form of a miniature, wispy Pete, and started throttling his neck.
“Look, Mouse, I wouldn’t reach out to ya unless I was in desperate trouble. Ya can believe dat, can’t ya?” Pete said.
That was true enough. After Mickey fanned the smoke away, he turned his attention back to Pete, curious to hear what the heavy had to say.
“So, ya already know how Yen Sid’s been sendin’ folks like me ‘round dese parts to collect magic, yeah?” Pete said.
“It’s not Yen Sid, ya fat--” Mickey was about to rebut, before Pete grabbed Mickey’s nose, tied it around his head with a sheepshank, and stuffed it in his mouth.
“Quiet when I’m talkin’, runt,” Pete said. “Anyhoo, it seems dat dis whole city’s loaded wit’ just de kinda magic he wants. Dere’s just one problem: dere ain’t no way to steal it from anyone.”
Mickey briefly stopped struggling to untie his own nose. That was the reason the cervequin he met earlier could use his magic. Given the sheer abundance of artistry and imagination he had seen running rampant, he felt he shouldn’t have been so surprised as he was.
“Whuffa zjool gawdda doo whiffis?” Mickey snorted.
“De jewel? Dat ain’t anything what concerns my business. But, de thing is I kinda crossed someone when I got here,” Pete explained. “When I was roamin’ ‘round lookin’ for some magic to steal, I tossed one o’ my cigar butts to de side somewheres. Turned out, it landed in a box o’ fabrics for some fashion show, an’ nearly burned down a stage. De lady runnin’ it, she weren’t too happy with me after de fact. Next t’ing I know, she’s makin’ me her errand boy.”
With one last powerful strain, Mickey undid his tied up nose. The mouse gasped loudly, taking in a deep breath of air, before he spoke.
“So, why don’t ya welch on her like ya’d normally do? I don’t picture ya the type to pay back what ya owe?” Mickey said.
“Don’t I wish I could. If I’d a stole de magic outta dis place, I’d be runnin’ scot free. Problem is, dis woman I messed wit’s some kinda tough customer. She’s got dis crazy magic what makes it so I can’t leave until she breaks the spell. I don’t wanna stay here longer dan I hafta. You heard her just now. Dat woman’s scarier dan Yen Sid on a bad day,” Pete said.
The heavy couldn’t help but smirk when he saw Mickey glaring at him. The denial this mouse was in was so sweet that Pete could almost taste it.
“Brass tacks is I ain’t goin’ nowhere, ‘til I get dat jewel for dat witch-woman. Dat’s why I need yer help,” Pete finished.
Mickey knew precisely what would happen if he helped Pete. Once Pete was released from his service of this woman, he would continue his conquest to steal the magic from the lands.
Every one of the mouse’s sensibilities told him that he should leave and let Pete bumble his way into eternal servitude for this woman. But, there was one thing that changed his mind. Minnie.
Mickey glanced at the pink, polka-dotted bow that Pete held clenched in his fist. For Minnie, he would do anything. To rescue her, he would put his own life in danger. Or worse, he would stoop to cooperating with Pete.
“Alright. I’ll help ya out. But, ya gotta let Minnie go soon as I give ya yer jewel back,” Mickey said.
“Ya got my word on it, runt. But, ya better be quick. My ol’ pal, Zeke, ain’t gonna satisfy his appetite long eatin’ just ponies,” Pete guffawed.
The idea of Minnie served on a platter with an apple in her mouth boiled Mickey’s blood and electrified his nerves. Unable to take anymore, he jolted from his seat and rushed to attack Pete.
Pete was perfectly ready for Mickey to strike. In one swift movement, he blocked Mickey from advancing, took the tied up mantle from it’s hook, and stuffed the mouse back inside of it.
“Lemme outta here, ya fat weasel! I’m gonna douse ya in honey an’ throw ya to the bears when I get my hands on you!” Mickey shouted, as he thrashed around inside the mantle.
“Much as I love yer righteous anger, I t’ink ya should put it to better work. Like findin’ my jewel fer me. Lemme give ya a head start on it,” Pete said.
The heavy tossed Mickey into the air and reared back his peg-leg. With a powerful kick, Pete solidly connected with Mickey, sending the mouse flying through the roof of the warehouse, and into the plaza beyond.
“Sayonara, sucker!!” Mickey heard Pete shout as he flew through the air.
The mouse had no way of knowing how far he flew, but he was in the air for several seconds before he landed with a mighty splash.
Mickey quickly struggled free of his entrapment as the water seeped in. The second he was free, he found he was up higher than he should have been.
When he tried to investigate the matter, he tumbled over forward, landed on a lower tier, and finally splashed into the base of the three-tiered fountain.
Looking around himself, Mickey realized he was back in the plaza, where he first met the larcenous juggler
“Great. Right back where I started from,” Mickey sputtered, as he climbed from the fountain and shook himself dry.
Mickey collected his mantle when it flowed down from the top of the fountain, and wrung it out. Once it was sufficiently dried, he set to work to find Nopony, recover his jewel, return it to Pete, and ultimately rescue Minnie from his clutches.
In the very forefront of his mind, Mickey knew he could never fully trust Pete. Always knowing such, Mickey began formulating plans to counter the true intentions of his oldest enemy, whatever they may have been.