Mythic Dawn

by MagnetBolt


Chapter 5

Larrikin wasn’t lazy. Most creatures at the school thought they were just a sleepy, soggy mess, but they were looking at it entirely from the wrong perspective. The average houseplant, even one that was exceptionally well-fed and happy, couldn’t be bothered to come to class on time unless somepony actually carried it with them. In comparison, Larrikin only needed to be dragged to class once or twice a week at most. This was a vast improvement, and by plant standards they were practically a top athlete.

“Don’t you have your own room?” Dawn asked.

“Well… technically,” Larrikin admitted. “I don’t like using it unless it’s winter.”

“Why? Don’t you like having your own space? I mean, I’d go crazy if I never had alone time.” Dawn was looking over a book while she spoke. Larrikin wasn’t sure how the pony could read one thing and talk about something else.

“Eh.” Larrikin shrugged. “What are you reading?” They walked over to Dawn, getting close enough to look over her shoulder. The kelpie was careful not to drip on the book, brushing their mane back so they could see more clearly.

“It’s a book on magical mirrors,” Dawn said. “Ever since we found that beholder down under the school I’ve been trying to figure out how it was able to bounce spells off of mirrors.”

“That’s neat,” Larrikin said. “I wish I could have gone with you, but all that garbage in the sewer…” they shuddered. “If I soaked up all that I don’t think the smell would ever come out.”

“Wouldn’t it be like… fertilizer?” Dawn asked.

“Nah,” Larrikin said. “Kelpies don’t really work that way.”

“Well, how do you work?” Dawn looked at Larrikin, tilting her head.

“The teachers say I don’t work very much at all,” Larrikin said, before laughing at their own joke. “But um… I mostly stay in the moat during the day so I can photosynthesize. Then I pull myself together and come to class.”

“What’s it like?” Dawn asked.

“What’s what like?”

“You know. Being a plant. Just floating there in the sunlight. What’s it like?”

“Oh.” Larrikin frowned. They looked uncomfortable. “Hm. That’s a hard question. What’s it like being a mare?”

“What do you mean? You’re a mare.” Dawn paused. “You are a mare, aren’t you?”

Larrikin shook their head.

Dawn’s cheeks slowly colored. “W-what?! You’re a stallion?! Oh stars, I let a stallion sleep in my bed! There are all sorts of rules about this thing! Don’t you know mares and stallions aren’t even supposed to stay in the same room? I could get in so much trouble!”

“What about Berlioz? Haven’t you been in the same room as him like, a bunch of times?” Larrikin asked.

“Berlioz is a good, honorable dog,” Dawn said. She suddenly realized how close Larrikin was and scooted away a little. “I don’t know if you are! You might try to use some kind of weird kelpie seduction on me!”

Larrikin giggled. “I thought it was changelings that had that kind of magic. And pervert unicorns.”

“I only looked at those books once!” Dawn snapped. Then she covered her mouth.

Larrikin laughed louder, needing a moment to compose themselves.

Dawn backed up until her flank hit the wall.

Larrikin smirked and strutted up, slapping their big, wet hoof into the wall next to Dawn’s head and leaning in close. “You know, there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you…”

Dawn swallowed. “W-what?”

“I’m not a stallion,” Larrikin said, with an exaggerated seductive tone.

“...You just said you weren’t a mare!” Dawn protested.

Larrikin snorted and pulled away, stepping back from where they’d cornered Dawn. “You ponies making other creatures choose. Most plants are male and female at the same time, you know.”

“They are?” Dawn asked, starting to cool down.

“Yeah.” Larrikin shrugged. “Honestly I’ve never seen the appeal of either.”

“So you’re just kind of… neither,” Dawn said.

“Yep! And it’s more fun that way anyway. You ponies have weird rules about how creatures should behave. I’m not sure they even make sense. I swear half the rules Arteria tells me are the opposite of what other ponies tell me, but she’s like, one of my best friends, right? So I don’t want to think she’s wrong. She feeds me a lot, too.”

Larrikin’s stomach rumbled. Well, that’s not an accurate statement. They didn’t have a digestive tract that was quite the same as a normal pony’s. It was more like a pitcher plant. The rumble was entirely conscious and for drama’s sake, exactly like a puppy making sad hungry sounds when its owner was eating and they also wanted to be eating.

“You know, you eat a lot for something that does photosynthesis all day,” Dawn said.

“I really like eating,” Larrikin admitted. “And it helps me stay awake. I don’t know how you mammals run around all night!”

“The school cafeteria is still open,” Dawn said.

Larrikin made another sad sound. “But I don’t want to go there alone…”

Dawn sighed.


“It’s not that there aren’t classes on friendship, it’s just not the focus of the school,” Luster Dawn explained. “It’s sort of a combination between a trade school and a research academy.”

“Is it true some ponies spend their whole lives in classes?” Larrikin asked. They grabbed another vegetable fritter and dunked it in way too much ranch dressing. “I heard there are students older than the teachers.”

“That’s half right. A lot of the students taking really advanced subjects end up taking teaching positions at the school. One or two of the older school buildings actually used to be houses owned by the teachers at the time. They’d have ponies over after regular classes to talk about the latest discoveries, then it turned to lectures, and their friends would bring other students, and eventually they were teaching classes out of their living rooms. A few generations later and ponies think of Lulamoon Hall as the Applied Astrology department instead of somepony’s house.”

Larrikin nodded and reached for another fritter. “Are you going to teach there?”

“I… never thought about it,” Dawn said. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m Princess Twilight’s personal student. The last time she had a personal student, they saved all of Equestria and, well, you know all the adventures Starlight Glimmer has been on.”

“I heard she once ate a dragon.”

“I don’t know where you heard that and also I’m pretty sure it’s both not true and completely impossible.”

“It might be possible. I bet I could eat a dragon.”

Dawn sat back in her seat and looked across the cafeteria. “Okay, then go eat that dragon.” She pointed.

Larrikin considered the relative size of the dragon and themselves. The dragon was twice as tall as they were, and that was probably the least problematic part of the whole thing. Still, a bet was a bet.

“Be right back,” Larrikin said. They got up and trotted over, grabbing the dragon’s wing with their mouth and tugging.

“...Yeah?” The dragon rumbled, his breath so hot that it made Larrikin’s mane wilt a little.

“Probably really spicy,” Larrikin mumbled.

“Spicy?”

“Oh, sorry. Can I see your tail for a second?”

“My tail?” The dragon looked back, then moved his tail so Larrikin could see it. “What about it? I didn’t trip anyone, did I?”

“Huh? Nah, I just need to…” Larrikin leaned in and bit down.


“Why would you do that?” Dawn snapped.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Larrikin shrugged.

Dawn gave them a look. “In what world did that seem like a good idea? I can’t even begin to list all the ways it was a bad idea!”

“Maybe I can help?” Counselor Trixie suggested. “I was going to try telling you that you were both being stupid, but it seems like at least one of you gets it already.”

“I didn’t tell them to do it!” Dawn protested.

Trixie rolled her eyes. “So? Why did it happen? Trixie needs to have something to put on the paperwork. The Ponyville Fire Department will be very curious about why they had to come out here at this hour. It’s not like Celestia’s School where there are strange fires all the time.”

“I felt like it,” Larrikin shrugged.

Trixie sighed. “Dawn, you can go. I need to talk to… this.”

Dawn nodded and walked to the door, looking back at Larrikin with obvious worry. The kelpie nodded and blew her a kiss. Dawn’s cheeks burned red and she ran the rest of the way, slamming the door behind her.

“So you just like getting attention,” Trixie said, flatly.

“Huh?” Larrikin asked.

“I’m not stupid,” Trixie sighed. “I’m not that different. I like being noticed. When I was younger I didn’t care if it was good or bad attention as long as ponies knew my name.”

“Miss Trixie,” Larrikin said, smiling. “I thought we were the same age.”

“Flattery will usually get you everywhere,” Trixie said, trying not to smile. “I know how hard it can be, but it’s better to be remembered for the right reasons. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. If you make a bad first impression, that’s all that will be remembered, and you might spend years trying to make up for it.”

“I do have my whole life,” Larrikin agreed. “That’s why I couldn’t wait.”

“...Trixie thinks you might not be listening.”

“Even if I’m not there, that dragon will remember me for the rest of his life!” Larrikin grinned. “Tomorrow, and the day after, and however long dragons live.”

“He’s going to remember that kelpies are cannibals, is what he’s going to remember,” Trixie sighed.

“I probably should have made sure he knew my name,” Larrikin said, suddenly worried. “Oh well. It’s too late to do anything about it now. Anyway, I also found out that dragons aren’t actually spicy! I kind of thought they would be, with the spikes and fire and stuff.”

“I’m absolutely sure there were ways you could find that out without actually biting another student.”

“Maybe. But I had more fun this way, and everyone involved has stories to tell.”

Trixie sighed. “You had fun, and now you’re going to be punished. I hate this part of the job.” Trixie sat back and spun around in her chair. “What do you even want to do with your life, Larrikin?”

“Well, I’ve done lunch. Maybe dinner later. Oh, and I want to tease Dawn more. She gets really flustered now because she thought I was a mare!”

“I meant in the long term,” Trixie specified.

“That is the long term,” Larrikin shrugged. “Why would I bother with anything past that?”

Trixie rubbed her snout. “Right. Okay! I know just what kind of punishment you’re getting!” She stood up proudly. “You’re going to have in-school suspension tomorrow. You’re not going to classes and you won’t get to hang out with your friends. Instead you’re going to spend the class time writing an essay on what you want to do in the future.”

“What?” Larrikin asked, with growing horror.

“It’s not complicated. Empty room. You. Paper. Pencil. Write an essay. You’ll have plenty of time to think about the future. Then when you’re done, I’ll read it with you and we’ll go over your future plans. I’m sure you want more out of life than just… biting dragons and causing trouble, right?”

“Yeah but… I don’t like being alone,” Larrikin said. “Even if it’s tomorrow, that’s still really…” they bit their lip. “Can’t I do something else? Like help out in the kitchen?”

“I don’t think the kitchen will be open tomorrow. They’re going to have to air out all the smoke from tonight’s minor incident. It’s not a punishment because it’s something you like. It’s a punishment because you don’t want to do it.”

Larrikin swallowed, their throat feeling dry. “Please? Something else?”

Trixie frowned. “It’s just an essay. I know you know how to read and write. Look, just show up at the math classroom tomorrow at class time. I’ll help you get started.”

Larrikin looked down. “Yes, Ma’am…”

They slowly marched out of their room, looking for all the world like a prisoner walking to the gallows.

Trixie watched them go.

“What a weird pony,” Trixie muttered. “What was that all about?”


Larrikin shuffled into the classroom, and Trixie did a double-take.

“You’re… tiny,” she said, eventually. Larrikin was a full head shorter than usual, and looked a little pale.

“I’m not feeling very good today,” Larrikin burbled. They stumbled over to a desk and sat down heavily. “This is just… the worst.”

Trixie had a lot of flaws, but she wasn’t blind. “Okay, what’s wrong? This isn’t even a really weird punishment. Trixie had to spend lots of days writing things on the blackboard a hundred times because she caused minor lab accidents.”

“If I spend all day in here I’ll never get to meet my friends,” Larrikin mumbled.

“You’ll see them tomorrow,” Trixie said.

“That’s not-- it’s not the same!” Larrikin moaned. “That won’t be me. That’ll just be… some other me.”

“Some other you,” Trixie repeated. “You’re going to have to walk Trixie through this.”

Larrikin looked up at Trixie, brushing her mane out of her face and revealing watery, tear-filled eyes. “Because it’ll be tomorrow! Don’t you know anything about kelpies?!”

“Clearly not,” Trixie mumbled.

“In the morning I’ll go back to the moat and turn back into a plant and I’ll be gone,” Larrikin mumbled. “And I won’t even get to spend time with anyone.”

“You’ll be… gone?” Trixie asked. “But you’re the same creature you were yesterday.”

“How do you know?” Larrikin asked.

“Well you remember being you, so that’s obviously proof. I mean, you remember your friends enough to be sad you won’t see them today.”

“Just because I remember it doesn’t mean anything,” Larrikin said. “I can’t prove that I’m the same person that was in those memories. What if a new me just gets born every night? I could just be- just be a bad copy! Maybe that’s why I don’t remember everything perfectly!”

Trixie sighed. “Where did you get these weird ideas?”

“Well…” Larrikin hesitated. “I’m not good at shapechanging.”

“You really aren’t,” Trixie agreed. “You’re a different shape and size every time I see you, but you still look like you.”

“I asked Ibis for help and she gave me a book about kelpies. It was the only one she knew about. It had a lot of stuff about kelpies, but the most important thing is that it explained everything about shapechanging and me and… and everything.” Larrikin sounded defeated.

“Trixie hasn’t read this book, so you’ll have to explain it to her.”

“Kelpies are just like… fruits. Or seeds. We get made every night a-and then when we sprout we just…” Larrikin sniffled. “And I never even knew! I-it means the me from yesterday spent the whole last part of their life worried about this!”

“Great. So somepony just learned about the continuity of consciousness,” Trixie sighed. "Trixie is not qualified to discuss ego death."

“So it’s true?” Larrikin asked, their voice just a whisper.

“It’s stupid is what it is. Ponies invented how to be stupid in this particular way a long time ago. It’s mostly just a way to try and sound smart when you don’t know what you’re talking about. How spooky to think that Trixie might not even be able to count on her memories! Oh nooo what if every time Trixie goes to sleep a new pony wakes up the next day and just thinks it’s Trixie? What if every time Trixie teleports it makes a copy of Trixie?”

Larrikin gasped. “You mean the same thing happens to ponies?”

“That’s the opposite of what I’m saying. It doesn’t happen at all. Ponies… and kelpies, I guess… grow and change and learn and stuff, but you never stop being you.”

“The book said there was proof.”

“Books aren’t always right. If they were, they wouldn’t need to come up with an expensive new bunch of textbooks every year to strain our budget to the breaking point. Do you know Trixie hasn’t had a raise in three years? It’s practically criminal!”

“There aren’t any other books on kelpies, so they must have gotten it right the first time,” Larrikin sighed.

Trixie groaned and rubbed her face. “Do you remember the name of the author?”


“I thought I was supposed to be punished. Why are we going on a field trip?” Larrikin asked, as Trixie trotted with them across the bog.

“Because Trixie doesn’t believe in cruel and unusual punishments,” Trixie sighed. “You’re supposed to learn from mistakes, not get traumatized by them. If something hurts you too much and nopony is there to catch you, you can end up in a bad place. Trixie had that happen once, and it was one of the biggest mistakes of her life.”

“And you’re sure this is the right pony?” Larrikin asked.

“Absolutely,” Trixie groaned. “We’re lucky he lives in town. Or as close as anyone will let him. I’d say you should just trust me that he’s not a reliable source but meeting him will prove it better than anything Trixie can say with her own words.”

Trixie led Larrikin all the way to the front door of a small, somewhat ramshackle cottage. It looked unfinished, like it had been a perfectly good shed, and someone had decided to turn it into a house, then left one expansion unfinished, turned another into a sunroom, started to paint the whole thing and gave up halfway through, and had never managed to find time to actually maintain any of it.

Trixie had to visibly brace herself before she finally worked up the courage to knock.

“Just… whatever he does, don’t let him talk you into anything stupid,” Trixie said. “Or anything stupider. Ask Trixie first.”

Before Larrikin could ask why, the door opened up and a disheveled, frumpy-looking pegasus stallion looked out with total shock at his visitors before slamming the door.

“Just a minute!” he lied. “I’m in the shower!”

“...But we just saw he was at the door,” Larrikin whispered.

“Yes,” Trixie sighed. She tapped her hoof on the ground, not offering any more explanation.

A few moments later, the door opened again,and the stallion had apparently found a comb somewhere to run through his mane.

“Well hello there,” he said. “I’m Zephyr Breeze. What can I do for you lovely ladies?”

“I’m not a lady,” Larrikin said.

Zephyr thought about that for a few moments. “Well, nopony’s perfect. You’re still cute. Seven out of ten, and I’ve got very low standards so I’d be happy with anything above a three.”

“I feel a little insulted,” Larrikin mumbled.

“He has that effect on mares.”

“And you’re like a… five?” Zephyr said, rubbing his chin. “Yeah, about a five. I’d still date you, but we’d split the bill. Actually you’d have to pay the whole tab. Ol’ Zepphy is having a few money flow issues.”

“A five?!” Trixie shrieked. “How is Trixie a five?!”

“Eh,” Zephyr shrugged. “You’re just not really my type. You’ve got those… you know. Wrinkles at the corners of your eyes? There’s a word for that…”

“Crow’s feet,” Larrikin supplied.

“Yeah! That’s it!” Zephyr nodded. “I’m really into mares closer to my own age was back when I was twenty years younger than I am now.”

“Is that illegal?” Larrikin whispered to Trixie.

“It should be,” Trixie muttered. “Nopony should be allowed to imply Trixie looks a day older than when she was in the prime of her life which is, by the way, right now because Trixie is always at her best and in the prime of her life!”

“So which of you two ladies is here for Zephyr?” he winked. “Not to say I can’t handle both of you at once.”

“You wrote a book about kelpies,” Trixie said.

Zephyr looked confused for a moment. “Oh! Yeah! I’ve written a bunch of books on monsters based on my own personal adventures. See, my sister had this great publishing deal because she was recognized as an expert on magical creatures, so naturally the rival publishing houses were happy to snap up a few expertly penned volumes by yours truly.”

“Great, so we’re in the right place,” Trixie looked at Larrikin. “Do you know who this is?”

Zephyr leaned down to look at them, examining their expression closely. Then his expression twisted to horror. “She’s not mine, is she?! I swear, I have no income! Please don’t report me to foal services! I promise I’ll pay the foal support when I get some money in, I just need to find the treasure in the money pit and then I’ll be good to go for the rest of my life!”

“Oh! Treasure pit?” Larrikin asked, perking up.

“Yeah! It’ll definitely pay off,” Zephyr said. “Here, I’ll show you, and then you won’t have to report me to the royal guard!”

Zephyr stepped out of what was very loosely called his house and motioned for them to follow. He walked around to the other side, leading them to a fenced-in area and a lot of broken tools, including a crude log crane that had snapped in several places.

“There’s treasure buried right there!” he said, pointing to a hole.

“What kind of treasure?” Larrikin asked.

“I have no idea!” Zephyr said. “Actually ponies have been digging here practically since Ponyville was founded. They call it the money pit because ponies are sure it’s full of money!”

“Are you sure that’s not because they throw money at it and never find anything?” Trixie asked.

“Nope, definitely because of the treasure. See, the first ponies to dig here found these log platforms every ten feet along with layers of waterproof fibers and blankets and even more!”

“What was at the bottom?” Larrikin asked.

“Well, nopony knows. It sort of filled up with water and all their equipment sank into the swamp.” Zephyr said. “But a few decades later, it was rediscovered! The second expedition drained the pit, dug all the mud out, and then it filled with water again and all their equipment sank into the swamp.”

“I’m sensing a theme,” Trixie said.

“The third expedition built a whole town out here, and made sure that it wouldn’t sink! But they got caught in a dragon attack and the town burned down, fell over, and sank into the swamp. And now I’m here, and I’m going to be the one to actually get the treasure! Think of how much it must be worth if ponies were willing to spend all that time and effort trying to get it!”

Trixie sighed. “Larrikin, do you see why I said you can’t trust--”

“This is amazing!” Larrikin gasped. “I wanna find treasure too!”

“It’s perfect for a pony like me,” Zephyr said. “See, some ponies spend their whole lives working from paycheck to paycheck. And for what?”

“It sounds boring,” Larrikin agreed.

“Instead, I’m gonna get rich all at once!” Zephyr declared. “I’ll be as rich as… who was that really famous rich pony? The one who was so rich he couldn’t spend all his money no matter what?”

“Filthy Rich?” Larrikin suggested.

“He’s not really a legend,” Trixie said. “He owns Barnyard Bargains.”

“Close enough for me!” Zephyr said. “I’ll be so rich I’ll be able to buy Barnyard Bargains! And then instead of having to work, I’ll retire to a life of luxury and ease.”

“Have you actually found any treasure?”

“I wouldn’t be so completely and foolishly confident in my own success if I hadn’t! I found rocks!”

“Amazing. You found rocks in a hole in the ground,” Trixie said.

“Not just any old rocks! I found rocks that have engravings on them! You wanna see them?”

“No,” Trixie said.

“Yes!” Larrikin yelled, excited.

Trixie sighed. “Fine. We’ll look at the rocks.”


“Feast your eyes on the amazing mysteries of the past!” Zephyr whispered.

Larrikin leaned in to look at the rocks.

“You can see the marks on them are some kind of writing,” Zephyr said. “I haven’t figured out what kind. It’s definitely not Ponish.”

“Are you sure those are letters and not just shovel marks and scratches?” Trixie asked. “Trixie is pretty sure it’s not writing.”

“Well that shows what you know,” Zephyr snorted. “I happen to be an expert, and those marks? They’re a message. A message about treasure!”

“You just said you don’t know what the language is,” Trixie said. “How can you tell the writing is about treasure?”

Zephyr scoffed. “It’s in a treasure hole. Of course it’s about treasure!”

“It makes sense to me,” Larrikin agreed.

“I’ll let you two in on a secret,” Zephyr said. “I’m close to getting the treasure for myself. See, before the third expedition burned down and fell into the swamp, they found a ring of stone pieces like these and a log platform, deeper than anypony else has ever gone.”

Trixie looked into the hole. It was filled almost to the top with murky water. “Uh huh.”

“Well, there is the minor flooding problem,” Zephyr admitted. “But! I have a solution!”

Trixie raised an eyebrow. “It doesn’t look like it’s helped.”

“Is it a bucket?” Larrikin asked. “Or two buckets?! No, wait! I know. It’s a really big bucket!”

“I tried all those ideas already,” Zephyr said. “Let me tell you after a few minutes it really starts to feel like work instead of getting rich quick. No, I have something even better! Check out this puppy!”

He slapped his hoof against a squat box with a number of hoses coming out of it.

“This bad boy can pump so much water that it’s illegal in Seaquestria! And also in Griffonstone. And some parts of Equestria and the Crystal Empire. The important thing is, it’s not technically illegal here yet and it’s a very powerful pump. With one tiny little hitch in that it needs unicorn magic and I’m not a unicorn and I couldn’t get a refund on it and I haven’t eaten in two days because I spent all my money on the pump.”

“You bought a pump you could even use?” Larrikin asked.

“He prides himself on not knowing anything,” Trixie said. “That’s why you shouldn’t trust anything he wrote.”

“Hey, I resemble that remark! I’ll have you know I’m one of the only authors you’ll ever meet that’s written more books than he’s read. You see, I’ve made so many amazing discoveries that I still struggle to share with the world, this treasure hole among them. I plan on writing a memoir about this whole experience, you know.”

“I’m sure,” Trixie sighed.

“And I might even be willing to include you two in my tale of mystery and woe and also woah!” He wiggled his eyebrows. “That sounds like woe but it’s an expression of excitement. Can either of you guess why you might cry out in happy surprise?”

“Because we find treasure?” Larrikin guessed.

“Exactly! Treasure!” Zephyr grinned. “But of course that can only happen if a unicorn was willing to help power my unicorn magic powered pump. Without it, why, I’ll be stuck moving buckets of water around for the rest of my life.”

“That sounds like it might be a good learning experience for you,” Trixie said.

Larrikin gave her a look like a kicked puppy.

“What?” Trixie asked.

“Please, Miss Trixie?” Larrikin asked. “This could be my one chance to see something really cool! It’s something none of the other mes would ever get a chance to do, and this is the only night I can do it! If you make the pump work, we can find the treasure, and it’ll be so exciting, and… he’ll write about me. Ponies will know about me forever. I won’t just disappear.”

“You won’t just…” Trixie sighed. “Stop giving me that look. I just can’t believe you aren’t getting this yet… fine. I’ll turn on his stupid pump. But as your guidance counselor, I want you to think really hard about what he’s saying and doing. I hope by the time this is over you’ll understand.”

“Thank you,” Larrikin said, smiling softly.


“Your mom seems really protective,” Zephyr said. They’d stepped away from the treasure hole while it drained. Trixie was standing over the pump, feeding it magic and wishing she had ear protection. In addition to being the most powerful miniature pump in the world it was also apparently the loudest.

“She’s not my mom,” Larrikin said. “I didn’t really have a mom.”

“Oh.” Zephyr said. “Well I sure trotted right into that one. I was a lot like you when I was growing up. A colt without a direction.”

“I’m not a colt.”

“...She said you weren’t a filly.”

“I’m not a filly, either.”

Zephyr was silent for a moment while he processed that. Then he nodded. “I like that. Not letting other ponies label you! That’s good. You foals are always coming up with hip ideas. Makes old Zephyr feel out of touch.”

“So… you wrote a lot of books,” Larrikin said.

“Yep! On all sorts of mystical creatures, cryptids, and beasties of the world. There are even a few in this very bog, but I try and stay away from them. One story at a time, if you dig what I’m putting down.” He winked. “No need to learn about twittermites and swamp apes when I’ve got treasure under my snout!”

“What about kelpies?” Larrikin pressed.

“I already covered them,” Zephyr said. “Why? Did you have a question? You should probably be careful if you see one. They eat ponies, you know. Their skin is adhesive and they hug you and drag you down into the water. That’s a true kelpie fact.”

“It is?” Larrikin asked, who had never eaten a pony before. Though they were in trouble for trying to take a bite out of a dragon, so maybe it wasn’t that far-fetched. The sticky skin part was a surprise. Maybe that was why every creature got weird when they tried to hug them.

“Absolutely. It’s okay, though. Kelpies have a few tell-tale traits and weaknesses. For example, they can’t refuse a gift of wine.”

“I’ve never even had wine…”

“Well of course not. You’re too young! That’s probably not going to be a help if you run into one.”

“If I run into one?” Larrikin was wondering why he wasn’t able to tell what they were. It wasn’t like they were really hiding it, and their shapeshifting wasn’t even all that good.

“The real trick is to bow politely. They’ll do the same thing, and their mane will fall off and they’ll be totally powerless.” Zephyr smirked. “No, wait. Is that right? Maybe that was the Nemian Lion. It’s been a while since I wrote those books and I can’t remember what I put down. I know there was some creature that lost all its strength when its mane got cut…”

“What about the part where kelpies are just like, big fruits that go rotten and fall apart at the end of the night?” Larrikin asked, trying not to sound afraid.

“Oh yeah!” Zephyr nods. “That sounds right. I mean, that’s basically how plants work, right? I spent a lot of time in a certain apple orchard, um, doing research, and I can tell you if you just let an apple fall off the tree it goes bad and you can’t eat it at all.”

“But kelpies aren’t like apple trees--”

“Trixie has finished pumping all the water out of your stupid hole!” Trixie yelled. “Can we please finish at some point tonight? Trixie might not have had plans tonight but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t prefer to spend it inside and not in a bog!”

“Treasure here I come!” Zephyr crowed, flying over to the pit and looking down. Larrikin followed on their currently-tiny legs, having to lean over the yawning pit to look down into it.

They were quiet for a moment.

“It’s really dark,” Larrikin said, eventually.

Trixie sighed and created a mote of light with her magic, letting it float down into the shadows.

“I got most of the mud and gunk out, but I just couldn’t keep the water from coming in,” Zephyr said. “Let me tell you, a pegasus should never dig in the mud if they can help it. It takes forever to get swamp slime out of your feathers and you run out of money for spa trips really quickly.”

“What you mean is, Fluttershy stopped paying for daily visits,” Trixie corrected.

“Let’s not get too caught up in who did what and what money paid for who!” Zephyr laughed. “I’ll totally pay her back as soon as I’m rich! Now let’s get that treasure!”

He jumped into the pit, flapping like a chicken to slow his descent.

“Um…” Larrikin hesitated, until Trixie pulled a ladder with only a few broken rungs out of the pile of misused and decrepit equipment. “Oh! Thanks!”

“I’ll have to stay up here,” Trixie said. “I doubt the pit is actually going to stay drained for long.”

“Because it was designed to flood!” Zephyr yelled from the bottom of the hole. “A cunning and deadly trap!”

“No, because this is a deep, unlined hole in the middle of a swamp!” Trixie snapped.

“...I’m starting to think he doesn’t really know much about this treasure hole,” Larrikin mumbled.

“Good, then you’re starting to understand the basics of the lesson,” Trixie said. “If you want, we can go back right now. You don’t have to go down there at all.”

“If I don’t, I’ll never have a chance to do it at all,” Larrikin shrugged.

“Be careful,” Trixie warned.

Larrikin nodded and started down the ladder, loose and broken rungs slowing their descent. Once they were actually in the pit, the sheer depth and scale of it really started to hit them. It went down more than a hundred feet, a dozen across, and the walls were layered with muck, roots, and tool marks.

“Help me with this,” Zephyr said. “I think this is it!”

He was prying loose stones out of the floor of the pit. They were smooth, surrounded and locked in place by something like clay. Larrikin looked around, the fetid smell of rotting vegetation and mud somehow comforting.

Zephyr grunted with effort, yanking a slab the size of a tombstone free and setting it aside. Larrikin did what they could to help, digging at the rocks until they felt something else.

“There really is something here!” they whispered.

“Move! I have to be the one to discover it!” Zephyr pushed them out of the way, tearing at the stones. “Yes… yes! This is it! This is…”

He freed the treasure from the muck, holding it over his head.

“...A broken plate?” Zephyr frowned and tossed it aside, then dug deeper, pulling out a cracked cup, then a chipped vase. Bent spoons and forks encrusted with rust. An axe with the handle rotted into mush. “There has to be something here!” Zephyr yelled.

“Is this treasure?” Larrikin asked, poking the broken plate.

“I’m sure there’s treasure here!” Zephyr snapped. “Help me with this! This has to be it…”

He grunted and yanked, trying to pull the largest thing yet from the mud. Larrikin helped, grabbing the other end with their teeth. The thick swamp loam didn’t want to give it up, and it took all of their strength to shift it, something the size of a treasure chest coming out of the clay and revealing…

“It’s a plow,” Larrikin said, spitting out the peat on their tongue.

“Why would they bury a plow?!” Zephyr screamed.

“Because it’s garbage,” Trixie said. “It’s not a treasure pit. It’s a garbage pit. A landfill.”

“But what about all those other expeditions?! What about the stories about treasure?! What about all the bits I spent?!”

“Just because a lot of ponies say the wrong thing it doesn’t make them right,” Trixie said. “Besides, it should have been a red flag that you thought there was actually treasure here. That was my first clue there was absolutely nothing.”

“So… he was wrong,” Larrikin mumbled. They picked up the cracked up, wiping away some of the muck.

“Ask him where he learned so much about kelpies,” Trixie said. “He might actually tell you the truth now.”

Larrikin looked at Zephyr.

“I made it up!” Zephyr snorted. “So what? My sister makes things up all the time. Does anypony really think there are goats that faint for no reason? I mean she made up a whole animal! Who would believe that there was a… a beaver with a duck bill and venom spikes? Nopony! So I made up a few little details!”

“You made it up?” Larrikin asked quietly. “You mean… you didn’t even check?”

“Look, kid, it’s just not important!” Zephyr said. “The treasure is what’s important, and it’s all gone! Do you know how many loans I have? The bank is going to skin me and sell my cutie marks to the griffins!”

“It’s not… but it is important! It’s going to make ponies think I’ll eat them, or I’ll stick to them if I hug them, or that they can get me drunk on wine and cut my hair to turn me into a frog or something!” Larrikin groaned, and their stomach growled.

“That you’ll…” Zephyr gasped and stepped back. “You’re a kelpie?! Oh feathers, don’t eat me! I’m too young to die!”

“I’m not going to eat you! I just get hungry when I’m stressed out,” Larrikin mumbled. “Like after tests, or finding out that I was wrong about you. But… but does that mean…?”

They looked up to the top of the shaft. Trixie nodded.

“I don’t really die every time I go to sleep?” Larrikin asked.

“Of course not,” Trixie said. “And just because you change shape doesn’t mean you’re a different person. Trixie is the same pony she was as a foal, and she was much shorter then. It’s why Zephyr has managed to go his whole life without growing up.”

“I was just so worried that creatures would never know I existed that I was willing to do anything to get their attention,” Larrikin said, quietly.

“Trixie used to live her whole life like that. It’s okay to want attention and to want to be noticed. Now are you ready to come out of that garbage pit and go back to the school? Trixie needs a cup of coffee.”

“Can I take some of this stuff with me?” Larrikin asked, holding up the chipped cup and broken plate.

“Take whatever broken junk you want,” Zephyr huffed. “I’m going to keep digging. Maybe it’s like one of those ancient tombs where they buried a lot of everyday junk alongside the king and all the treasure! I just have to keep looking!”

Larrikin shook their head and started up the ladder, Trixie helping them past the broken rungs with a few small magical tugs.

“Coffee sounds pretty good,” Larrikin said, when they got to the top. “I could really go a few donuts, too.”

“Don’t push it. You’re supposed to be being punished.” Trixie looked down at Zephyr, then kicked the pump as they walked away, turning off the siphon.

“I’m just so hungry since I wasn’t able to eat after I woke up,” Larrikin groaned.

“We’re not getting you a snack,” Trixie said, firmly. Larrikin looked up at her with big, sad eyes. “We’re not!”

Zephyr shrieked like a little filly when the swamp water started to flood in around him.


Larrikin bit into a donut happily. “Mm. Jelly!”

Trixie sighed. “I’m getting too soft in my old age.”

“I don’t think you’re soft,” Larrikin said. “Luster is kind of soft though. She doesn’t really do a lot of exercise.”

“Well, Trixie does work to stay in shape. A stage performer trades on the value of their appearance and the ability to sell themselves.”

Larrikin finished the last donut and licked their lips. “Thank you for… all of this,” they said. “Most creatures just sort of tolerate me. I try not to let it bother me.”

“Trixie considers it a small price to pay for keeping you from falling down the well of existential philosophy. It’s an even bigger and stupider pit than the literal one you were in tonight, and there’s only garbage at the bottom. It’s sort of like a metaphor, but in a very literal way.”

“I can’t believe I trusted him about… about something that big.” Larrikin sighed and put her head down on the cafeteria table.

“There are always big questions that ponies won’t have answers to,” Trixie said. “Trixie can’t prove she doesn’t stop existing every time she takes a nap, or that she isn’t dreaming all of this. Things you can’t prove or disprove aren’t worth worrying about. Instead, you should worry about the things you can change.”

“Like what” Larrikin asked.

“For one thing, you can write an angry letter to Zephyr Breeze’s publisher and threaten to sue them,” Trixie snorted. “But ponies really don’t know much about kelpies. Why don’t you start writing a book of your own?”

“That sounds a lot like work,” Larrikin mumbled. “Who would write a book just for fun?”

“You take classes with a sphinx and Princess Twilight’s personal student. I think you know at least two creatures that would do it. They could give you a few tips. They might even be able to help you learn how to control your shape, short stack.”

Larrikin sat back and smiled. “That’s a good idea. I bet if I work at it I can make myself really tall and graceful.”

“I didn’t know you had a preference,” Trixie said, amused.

“I don’t, but I’m pretty sure that’s what Dawn likes. I think I was really enjoying teasing her.”

“You shouldn’t tease your friends too much,” Trixie said. “But Trixie is glad you learned something.”

“I learned a lot,” Larrikin agreed. “Jelly donuts are really good, I don’t just stop existing when I go to bed to photosynthesize, and I might have a crush on Luster Dawn.”

Trixie spat out her coffee.


“Plastic sheets?” Larrikin asked, watching Dawn tug them into place.

“No, it’s a tarp,” Dawn corrected. “I already know you’re going to want to take a nap, and I wanted to be proactive about it today and avoid the drying spells. They can make my blankets all frizzy.”

“Neat,” Larrikin said, flopping onto the tarp.

“While you’re here, I was thinking we could go over what you missed since you weren’t in class today,” Dawn said. “Unless there’s something you’d rather do?”

“Well, I do have some weird pottery I wanted you to help me identify but… we’ve got time for that later,” Larrikin said, yawning. “I’ll be happy as long as I can spend some time with my friends.”

Dawn flipped over a page in her book. “You know what? You’re right.”

“I am?” Larrikin looked up.

“Yeah!” She closed her book. “I just spent all night in class. I don’t need to spend another three hours memorizing the interior angles of polygons. Why don’t you show me what you found?”

Larrikin smiled and sat up, rummaging around in their mane and extracting the broken plate and cup from their mane, carefully putting it down on the bed. “I think they’re really old,” they explained. “We found them in the swamp.”

“What were you doing in the swamp?” Dawn asked. She picked up the cup with her magic.

“Miss Trixie was giving me a lesson. I think it was a pretty important one.”

“Sounds like you had a better time than we did,” Dawn said. “I think if I use the right spells I can clean this off without damaging it…” she narrowed her gaze and slowly ramped up the power of her spell, the muck and dirt deeply encrusting it flaking off. Mold and lichen had grown into the cracks, leaving dark stains, and another spell cleaned them away. After a few minutes, she had a cup that looked brand-new. Well, brand-new and broken, but much cleaner if nothing else.

“Nice,” Larrikin nodded.

“You weren’t kidding. These really are old.” Dawn picked up the plate and repeated the process. “Where did you find these? You said the swamp?”

“Yeah, there’s a big treasure hole! Or at least that’s what it was supposed to be. Actually it seems like it was a garbage dump.”

“Probably an old well,” Dawn muttered. “You’d be surprised at how many midden heaps end up at the bottom of wells. Ponies drop things in all the time because they use the well, and it’s basically impossible to get anything back out.”

“Makes sense,” Larrikin agreed. “It kept filling up with water.”

“Now the thing about ceramics like this is that they last basically forever,” Dawn said. “In the castle they have some that are more than a thousand years old and they’re exactly the same as the day they were made. The only hard part is getting replacements when something cracks, but Princess Twilight told me there’s a whole branch of art historians that specialize in exactly that. And selling replicas to collectors.”

“Neat,” Larrikin nodded, listening to her and smiling. They were just enjoying listen to Dawn speak at length. The way she went on tangents was like a river splitting off into streams and coming back together, all flowing the same way eventually.

“I’m not really an expert, but I can tell you a few things. First, this is really old. Like, really, really old.” She put the cup down. “They’re part of a matched set.”

“How can you tell?”

“It’s the design. Look at this.” She grabbed a piece of paper and put the plate down on it to keep it from scuffing. “Do you see this symbol in the middle like an eight-pointed star? It’s a symbol representing a circle of sorcerers that predates Princess Celestia’s rule. It took eight of them to make the sun rise or set, and the points of the star represent their horns. The cup has the same symbol inside it.”

“I’ve never heard of them,” Larrikin shrugged.

“Not a lot of ponies know about them. They ruled Equestria in the pre-Discordian era after Hearth’s Warming, but then Discord overthrew them and when peace returned, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna became the rulers of Equestria. They weren’t needed because the alicorn sisters were strong enough to cycle night and day on their own, so they faded into obscurity and just sort of vanished from history.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Larrikin smiled. “So are they the ones on the other side of the plate, too?”

“On the other side?” Dawn asked. She carefully flipped the plate over.

The pattern was damaged by time and wear and spending a thousand years in a well, but it was still clear that the design around the underside of the plate depicted ponies in red robes and golden masks guiding the sun across the sky from one dawn to the next.

“That’s just like the pony I saw,” Dawn mumbled.

“Does that mean this is really treasure?” Larrikin asked.

Dawn coughed and recovered her composure. “It’s treasure to a historian. It’s not really all that valuable. Especially since we don’t know anything about where they came from.” She paused. “...where did they come from exactly?”

“A treasure hole!” Larrikin said. They waited just long enough for Dawn to twitch. “It was just the edge of Foggy Bottom Bog. Mister Breeze said there were a bunch of expeditions there looking for treasure before.”

“Why would they look there?” Dawn wondered.

“I donno!” Larrikin shrugged. “Probably because they knew other ponies had been digging.”

“I’ll have to check the records later. Maybe we can find out something interesting about this plate.”

Larrikin sighed. “Does that mean we’d have to give it to somepony else?”

“It might not be a bad idea to let an archaeologist look at it, but it’s your plate,” Dawn said. “Like I said, the really valuable thing is the history behind it. What we can learn about the ponies who made it and used it.”

“So if we find out about who made it… they’ll be remembered even a thousand years after they died,” Larrikin mumbled.

“Yep. Here, look at this.” Dawn pointed to the center of the plate. “You see that mark there pressed into the clay? That’s the cutie mark of the pony who made it. As long as we try to learn about them, it’s not just Princesses and sorcerers and heroes who are remembered. Even normal ponies like you or me can leave a mark on the world that can last as long as there are creatures to find it.”

Larrikin leaned over and touched the mark gently. “I hope ponies remember me like that.”

“Like any of us are ever going to forget about you,” Dawn snorted. “Hey, do you want to ask Ibis if she can help us find the pony’s name? I bet if they were making plates for famous ponies there’s a record somewhere.”

“That sounds fun!” Larrikin grinned. “And maybe we can stop by the cafeteria and check out their plates. For reference.”

“You just want another snack.” Dawn offered her a hoof, and helped them stand up.

“Yeah, but I wanna eat it with you,” Larrikin said, holding onto Dawn’s hoof for a moment longer. “If you want.”

Dawn smiled. “Sure. But I’m picking out the snack.”

“Sure!”

“And it’s gonna be something healthy!” Dawn warned, leading the kelpie out. Larrikin just smiled and nodded. For once, they were looking forward to what came next.