//------------------------------// // Chapter 13 // Story: Defense in Depth // by Fon Shaolin //------------------------------// “I’m telling you, I’m on a roll! A hot streak! These casinos are gonna kick me out before too long!” Smokey Road nodded, indulging his friend. Out of the casino, the lights of the Landing Strip were almost blinding, even at one in the morning. Smokey rubbed his eyes (too many damn ciders) and nodded at his friend. “Sure thing, Roy. They’ll kick you out for winning that final hand. How much did you get them for? 300 bits?” “350!” Roy corrected, only swaying slightly. A few passing ponies gave him a look, but they were smiling. This was Las Pegasus, after all - the town for letting loose. Roy hadn’t even begun to really drink yet, and Smokey knew they would hit another few casinos before the night was up. He’d been hoping to pick up a mare for the night, but another night out with his best friend wouldn’t kill him. They had a whole week still to burn, after all. “Sorry Roy, 350. And how much did you lose before that?” Roy laughed. “Jus 500! I’ll get 'em next time!” “Sure, Roy. What casino do you want to hit next? Rodeo Rodeo? The Clopicana?” The other stallion wildly shook his head. “No way! Gotta be Planet Applewood! We can still make the dancing show! Awooooo!” Smokey shook his head as Roy broke out into a drunken gallop, but the mood was infectious and he stormed after him, even getting in a few howls of his own. Those dancers at the Palace were to die for! The stallion had just about caught up when Roy took a hard left turn into an alleyway. “The hell are you going?” Smokey shouted. “Shortcut!” Roy bellowed. “Follow the music, man! The music!” Music? Smokey strained hard, but all he could hear was the normal background lul of Las Pegasus at night - namely a lot of laughing, talking, and the rolling thunder of the clouds surrounding the city. No distinct music, though. “I don’t hear anything!” Roy just shook his head and galloped harder, taking turns and twists like a racehorse. Roy was a small pegasus and Smokey had to push his earth pony legs to even keep his friend in sight. He didn’t know where the pegasus was getting the energy to run like that after all the booze he’d had tonight, but Smokey was just a little jealous. He lost sight of his laughing friend as he skidded around another corner at the end of the alleyway. There was a loud crash of trash cans and a pained shout from Roy. “That’s what you get for going that fast,” Smokey said, skidding to a halt himself. He didn’t want to make the same mistake. Still chuckling, Smokey turned the corner. “Those dancers aren’t going to want any part of you if you smell like garbage, man,” he said, expecting to see Roy flat on his face in a pile of trash. “Good thing pegasus..es… bounce?” Smokey looked around. There weren’t any overturned trash cans, but somehow a whole dumpster had gotten thrown across the alley. Smokey could see on one of the walls where it’d dug straight into the stone and bounced off, making a huge dent. “Damn, Roy. What the hell did you do?” Smokey wondered. More than that, where was the pegasus? He couldn’t have walked away from a hit like that. The alley wasn’t narrow, being as wide as a regular street, but there wasn’t anywhere for the pegasus to hide. It was clear except for the dumpster… but did the dumpster just move? “Ugh…” Of course. “Did you flip over the damn thing? Your head must be ringing like a bell.” No reply, just another groan, and some scratching. “I swear to Celestia if you’ve broken something and we have to go to the hospital you owe me all the drinks I want tomorrow night,” Smokey warned. As he got closer to the dumpster, Smokey finally started to hear the faint sound of cabaret music. They had to be pretty close to Planet Applewood now. “Just gotta scrape you up off the alley and we can still catch the show. Mares love seeing bruises.” Something crunched under his hoof. Startled, Smokey looked down, but there was nothing there but cobblestone. Crunch. Crunch. Crack. It had no rhyme or reason, not in time at all with Smokey’s gait. He hadn’t stepped on anything. Cruch. Crunch. Crack. It was coming from behind the dumpster. The music was louder now. So loud that Smokey shook his head, trying to make his ears behave, but he couldn’t stop walking. He had to keep walking. Toward the dumpster. Around the other side. A face appeared in front of him. Not a pony. Not anything he’d ever seen before. It was a pale face, featureless and leathery, except for a too-wide mouth and two black pits where eyes should be. Dozens upon dozens of teeth filled his field of view - not sharp. They were flat like horse teeth. Grinding teeth. Crunching teeth. But Smokey didn’t run. He couldn’t run. Not even when he felt something warm and sticky wash across his hooves. Not when he saw the split body of Roy, splayed out across the alley in red, meaty chunks. Not when another of those white heads appeared, this one higher than the second-story windows of the buildings lining the alley looked down at him, lips stained red, mouth chewing. Smokey blinked. He looked around. “This was the worst shortcut ever,” he muttered, wondering how he’d gotten so lost. Luckily he could still hear the Planet Applewood cabaret music, so he knew he had to be close. “Last time I ever go stag at Los Pegasus,” he declared, still warm and fuzzy from a night of drinking, but ready to keep his vacation going! He only stumbled a bit over a half-clovered sewer lid on his way out of the alley and out to another early morning of fun on the Strip. Defense in Depth: Chapter 13 Twilight Sparkle was a hunter. Her prey was crafty, the craftiest even, and had yet to be taken by surprise. A surly prey, possessing a nasty disposition and a sharp tongue. A prey worth hunting. The crags and canyons of the San Palmeno Desert provided excellent cover for Twilight’s approach. She ignored the discomfort of the rocks as she silently crawled toward the oblivious pony in front of her. Twilight had taken the last thirty minutes, half of her precious lunchtime, to conduct this daring raid on the enemy position. She had looped wide and far in the canyons to hoodwink the pony in front of her, but now it was all worth it. Now the tallies would be evened and the sweet, sweet taste of revenge would be hers. All she had to do was- Twilight almost missed the flicker. It was so very subtle, the illusion so very perfect, that unless the sun had been sitting just so she probably wouldn’t have seen it. And it could only mean one thing… “Trixie! I said no illusions!” Twilight shouted. Her shield went up not a moment too soon because the magister was already on the attack! Trixie leaped down from the rocky outcropping where she'd set her own ambush, firing arcs of lighting as she slid down the embankment. Twilight’s shield flickered when two bolts at once hit and it nearly broke her concentration completely, but she clenched her teeth and forced more magic into the orchid bubble protecting her. But now Twilight had a real target to shoot at and from experience she knew her bolts could pack more of a punch than Trixie’s. But, also from experience, Trixie knew something herself - she knew Twilight’s major weakness. When Trixie hit the canyon floor she broke into a run to put some good distance between them. If Twilight wanted to try and shoot, she would have to do it at range. “The Blind and Myopic Twilight Sparkle could not hit Trixie even if she painted a bright red bullseye on her beautiful flank!” the mare taunted, and Twilight felt her face burn. She could still feel the embarrassment from the first time they’d done long-range practice and Trixie had found out just how nearsighted Twilight was. All Trixie’s teasing nearly made Twilight want to dig out the bottle glasses she’d been issued at medical all those weeks ago, but that would only give the azure unicorn more ammunition. But... Twilight didn’t need to shoot from this far. She dipped her head and charged, thundering across the dusty bottom of the cavern like a mare possessed. She was faster and more athletic than Trixie, although the magister wasn’t exactly a slouch. Trixie had a good stride and managed to keep some distance between them, sending the occasional bolt of lighting over her shoulder to keep Twilight somewhat at bay. The bolts skittered across Twilight’s shield. It held against the first few shots, but Twilight knew from experience it wouldn’t last long against Trixie’s precision aim. “You’ve gotta be faster than that!” Twilight called out, hoping to get the unicorn to panic and miss a few shots. Trixie might have had the stamina of an athlete, but she didn’t have the speed of a unicorn who had been measuring herself against earth ponies and pegasi for the last six years. Trixie kept shooting, and she was scoring some hits on Twilight’s shield, but the gap was narrowing at a good clip as Twilight inexorably gained on her. Close enough! Now was the tricky part. She closed her eyes, trusting her natural sense of direction for a few seconds, so she could visualize the Teslavolte’ rune circle. Another bolt from Trixie almost broke Twilight’s concentration, but she had it now. When she opened her eyes, the magic from her shield was already flowing into a powerful bolt. Trixie tripped when it slammed into her shield, but managed to stay upright and hold her shield. Twilight jumped out the way of her first bolt and narrowly ducked the second. Unlike Trixie, Twilight had no idea how to hold two spells in her mind at once, so she only had her (admittedly excellent) physical skills for defense while she channeled the shock spell. Now she was within a few paces - leaping range! Trixie knew it was coming and shifted all her power and attention to her shield, which blazed a bright magenta; Twilight could even see the runic circle itself emblazoned on the magic bubble. The runes shimmered when Twilight’s magic first brushed against them, then glowed too bright to look at as the full power of the spell hit flush and in full. The force of Trixie’s shield almost put Twilight on her rump, but she dug her hooves in and braced her body. Twilight poured every speck and scrap of magic into the simple spell, knowing that it was extremely wasteful and not caring. But Trixie was a magister. Twilight knew the unicorn’s raw power limits now, and although they were formidable, she had Trixie beat on that front. Where Twilight couldn’t hope to compete with the other unicorn was in practical magic experience. Trixie smirked at her, straining, long mane whipping like a flag in the magical conflagration. Her eyes snapped closed just as her horn started to shimmer. Twilight’s reaction was too slow. A burst of multicolored lights exploded from Trixie’s horn, making Twilight instinctively flinch away. Her teslavolte spell skittered away from the shield and blasted away a chunk of rock on the far canyon wall, thunder echoing so loud Twilight’s vision would have swum regardless of Trixie’s illusion. Before Twilight could even think about bringing her shield back up, she felt the telltale tingle of ozone close to her nose. “That… wasn’t fair,” Twilight growled, glaring up at Trixie’s gloating smile. At least what she thought was a gloating smile. Twilight couldn’t exactly see very well right now. “Life isn’t fair,” Trixie replied, breathing much harder. She even looked a bit wobbly. “Trixie believes that is… seven to three, in favor of Trixie. That means you are cooking lunch today!” Twilight groaned, but after two days living and traveling with Trixie, she knew better than to argue. The mare was incredibly stubborn; maybe even more stubborn than Twilight herself could be if Trixie thought she was in the right. “Don’t be a sore loser,” Trixie chided. Her breathing already sounded better; the mare was getting as much physically out of their matches as Twilight was magically. “When you won the other day, you made Trixie refer to herself in the first person for a whole hour! Trixie could be much more petty.” “That was definitely in the top ten best hours of my life,” Twilight wistfully mused, but she rolled back to her hooves, only a little wobbly, and went over to the travel trunks. Two days on the road, both of them spent cooking lunch, had taught Twilight what the magister did and didn’t like. Travel rations worked fine for Twilight, but Trixie had a “refined palate” that could only tolerate properly-cooked food. Not that Twilight minded too much. Just because something worked didn’t mean Twilight enjoyed days and days of hardtack biscuits among other, redder, less polite things the military was given to eat when out in the field. Protein was protein, after all, and with enough salt, anything could be palatable… Twilight chuckled as she dug Trixie’s iron cooking set out of the travel trunks. “Wonder what Trixie would do if I took down a desert quail and served a stew?” With her new lightning trick, it wouldn’t be too hard, and she’d done pretty well with her bush survival training at the fort. “Trixie would bury you in an unmarked grave.” Apparently, Trixie hadn’t been too far away. “Only a neanderthal would eat meat,” she said, using her favorite nickname for Twilight. “You might have to readjust,” Twilight countered. She lifted the burlap sack that contained all the dried fruits and vegetables they had left. It was getting pretty light. They had maybe a dozen dried apples left, a bag of mixed beans, hardtack biscuits, assorted nuts, a few potatoes, and dried bread that was looking pretty iffy. Twilight pulled out enough potatoes and beans for a hash. The beans she put into water to soak and the potatoes she started to peel and cut into cubes to later be mashed. After lunch, there would be enough for another round of hash and bread tonight, but after that, they would have to really ration. “If we don’t get to wherever it is we’re going soon, you’ll be helping me field dress a quail.” “Grave. Desert. Unmarked,” Trixie reiterated. “Besides, we’re almost there.” “And where is ‘there’? You still haven’t told me.” Twilight had to shift over because Trixie decided to come and start on the bread. Twilight didn’t mind; it was easy enough to make a stew from what they had. Trixie, Twilight had discovered, had a preference for stews and soups. Twilight had also discovered that Trixie, despite knowing a great deal about camping and cooking out in the wild, didn’t know much about supplying for two ponies. Twilight understood; she wasn’t used to sharing space either, recent military experience notwithstanding. The other mare grunted as she diced the hard loaves into cubes. “Outside Las Pegasus. Our expedition leader wants to search the badlands for the beast we’re looking for before we scour the city.” Las Pegasus. The city of sin, vice, and entertainment. The place where Applewood Studios created radio and movie dramas. And, apparently, where there was a ferocious monster preying on ponies. Twilight built a small fire pit and Trixie lit it up with a spark from her horn. “When are you going to teach me the runes for that?” Twilight asked, trying to mask the yawning cavern of longing for new magic behind her innocent question. “A fire spell would be helpful for fighting monsters.” But Trixie wasn’t a simple pony. “You just want Trixie to give you more spells,” she deadpanned. “Trixie appreciates your knowledge, but you know Trixie’s rule - no new spells until you can hold both a shield and cast the teslavolte at the same time.” “Miser,” Twilight grumbled as she stirred the soaked beans into the bubbling cauldron. She was getting better at using both spells, but not together, and Trixie was being frustratingly obtuse about it. “You didn’t even know a spell before Trixie taught you,” Trixie countered, smirking at Twilight’s displeasure. “Greedy little neanderthal. If you beg, Trixie will tell you a trick to holding two spells in your mind at once.” “If we run out of food you’re not getting any quail.” “If we run out of food and Trixie starves she will throw herself off a cliff to keep you from gnawing on her Great and Powerful bones.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Eat one rabbit in survival training and ponies assume you’re a cannibal. Some earth ponies villages raise hogs, you know. And Equestria produces more eggs than any other country in the world.” Twilight poked Trixie’s barrel, which made the magister jump. “Speaking of which, that gut of yours still has the scrambled eggs we ate the other day in it.” “The Thin and Athletic Trixie does not have a… a… gut!” she shrieked. “And eggs are different!” “How?!” “They just are!” The only thing that headed off the argument was the stew starting to bubble and snap. Still smoldering mad, Trixie tipped her cubed bread into the pot and yanked the ladle from Twilight’s magical grip to stir it all in, grumbling all the while. Twilight knew her companion well enough to not push it farther; she didn’t want another fight before lunch. In all, it wasn’t a horrible meal. Potatoes, both mashed and boiled, a good, thick stew, and some trail mix to top it all off. There was enough there for two plates apiece and the unicorns didn’t leave any leftovers. They had traveled dozens of miles since leaving the train, lugging significant baggage the whole way. Even for a unicorn as fit as Twilight, it was quite the journey. Twilight glanced sidelong at the magister. “Are we going to get wherever it is we’re going today?” she prodded. The other unicorn’s nose twitched. “You’ve learned how to be nicer when you imply Trixie is lost,” she said. It almost sounded like Trixie might have appreciated it. “But, in fact, Trixie is relatively certain we are already in communication range. She was going to wait until after lunch...” A look from Twilight had Trixie rolling her eyes. “...but she supposed that it would be best to establish contact as quickly as possible.” Relief went through Twilight, but she didn’t show it. She had decided, several days ago, to be a bit more respectful to Trixie - when they weren’t slinging lightning at each other - and Twilight was trying to make the effort. Failing, in a lot of places, but still trying, especially when it came to not winding Trixie up about things she cared about… such as how her competence was perceived by others. But then there was that look from her. Considering. Weighing options. Seeing exactly what Twilight was thinking. Trixie was far from mastering it and she came off as looking more “haughty” than “wisened magister”, but it still made Twilight squirm a bit. She wondered if it was something they actually taught at the Spire. “You will come help Trixie,” she suddenly decided, and Twilight perked up. Trixie smirked, pleased with whatever scheme she’d just thought up. “Clean the camp and then join Trixie at the top of the canyon.” Before Twilight could get a word in edgewise, Trixie had already teleported away. Twilight let out a huff. “I have to learn how to do that,” she grumbled as she started gathering up pots and plates. Ten minutes later and Twilight was halfway up the canyon’s rockface. It was a good post-lunch workout even between scanning each crag and cut in the rocks for the serpentine menace. For a unicorn like her it wasn’t too bad; just a few jumps and some tricky balances. Twilight had learned a few skills from watching the goat washing crew in Canterlot as they scampered around the castle’s buttresses like squirrels. “Watch where you step!” Trixie shouted. Twilight stopped in her hooves; right where she was about to plod through was a very purposefully-chalked line. She managed to hop over what she could now see as a massive rune ring, carved straight into the rock. Trixie was several paces away putting the final touches on the center, and a massive rune big enough for several ponies to stand in. Carefully, Twilight picked her way over to the other unicorn. “Can rune circles even be this big?” she asked. “What about magical bleed-off?” Trixie dramatically sighed. “Oh, Eager and Novice Twilight. There is so much about the finer craft of magic that you do not know,” she said airily. Seeing Twilight’s frown, Trixie’s own expression turned sly. “That you do not know yet. The Philanthropic and Charitable Trixie is willing to let you stay for this casting. In fact, you could say that you are a vital part of it.” That raised all sorts of flags for Twilight. “...Vital how? We both know that I don’t even recognize these runes.” She narrowed her eyes. “If you tell me I need to bring something back up from the camp, you can stuff it.” “Nothing so petty!” Trixie exclaimed, with all the faux shock she could muster (which was quite a lot). “Why, Trixie can truthfully say that without you this spell is not possible. And not in any physical way, but a magical one.” More and more warning bells flashed in Twilight’s head, but the lure of magic was too much. She licked her lips like a diamond dog looking at the perfect gem. “Okay, Trixie. I’ll bite. What are you going to do?” “Just a bit of magic Trixie has yet to master, but knows is possible. Trixie’s own master, Sunburst, is the expert of its usage, and Trixie believes she is ready for an attempt.” The smile flashed wider. “With your help, of course. Now, come stand over by Trixie - and watch the chalk.” “This is such a bad idea,” Twilight muttered, but nevertheless she tiptoed over to the center of the circle. A small comfort was that Trixie was standing there as well. Twilight swore to herself that if Trixie teleported away she would bail, magic learning or no magic learning, but the magister stayed firm. “It’s an excellent idea,” Trixie replied, and she busied herself with directing Twilight around with her telekinesis. “Now, stand there. No, there. Face Trixie. Look Trixie in the eyes. That’s right. Hold still.” “This is uncomfortable,” Twilight grumbled, although it wasn’t so much uncomfortable as it was embarrassing. Trixie was so close that they were almost touching snouts; Twilight could almost count her eyelashes, even. Of course, Trixie didn’t seem bothered. She was still adjusting Twilight, but she didn’t miss the look, or the way Twilight’s face was starting to heat up. “Why Twilight, Trixie didn’t know you played hoofball for the other team,” she cooed. “Trixie knows this must be torture to be this close to such a Great and Powerful mare, but Trixie promises it is all for the sake of the spell.” Twilight snorted. “How your head doesn’t explode from holding in that ego of yours is a medical miracle,” she spat, but it was somewhat undermined by the three-alarm blush now starting to advance down Twilight’s neck. “Can we just get this over with already?!” “Oh, Trixie supposes. She is not the type of pony to prolong your suffering.” Trixie’s smirk nearly split her whole face; Twilight could see it despite how close they were. “But Trixie was not lying when she said she needs you for this spell. Imagine the circle.” Those words, even more than Trixie’s teasing, made Twilight shiver. That was the phrase Trixie used whenever she wanted to start a new lesson, and Twilight was practiced at closing her eyes and picturing a runic circle. “Good. Now, imagine raidho, the traveling rune,” Trixie said, using the Old Horse word for the rune. “Imagine how it circles your wheel. Imagine this spell and the journey it needs to make. Sixteen raidho, circling a center gyfu. A journey toward a gift. Trixie will do the rest.” Raidho and gyfu - journey and gift. And it was important that one was on the wheel and the other was in the center because a spell could take on a completely different flavor if the runes were switched. Twilight had no idea what the spell was for, but she knew the runes. Trixie had begun the last two mornings with runic alphabet and word lessons, the only time the magister had taught traditionally with chalk and something approaching lecture. So, Twilight knew she was imagining the right magical circle. She knew it because her horn lit almost by itself, like it was on autopilot. The spell was running without her input. Twilight felt something. In her horn. In her magic. Something new. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was unexpected. Warm, almost uncomfortably so, in her horn. She smelled gunpowder and strange potions, felt… powerful. Ambitious. ...alone…? “Gah!” Twilight shook her head, trying to clear out the rush of emotions, as Trixie stumbled away from her. “Trixie? What…” Journey. Gift. Twilight’s eyes went up to Trixie’s horn - which was now burning orchid. “Is that-” “I did it! I did it, I did it, I did it!” Trixie shouted, trotting in place. Then she saw Twilight gaping at her and quickly got herself back under control. Now it was her turn to look red around the collar of her magister robes. “Ahem. That is, we did it. Congratulations on your first casting of real magic, Twilight Sparkle!” “‘Real magic’? Trixie, what even was that spell? Why does your magic look like mine? What… what were those feelings?” Trixie scoffed. “Ignore those. That was just some feedback from the spell," she dismissed. "What we did was cast a bit of magic Trixie has been trying to perfect for months. Sympathetic Magic!” She paused as if Twilight was supposed to be suitably awed. Instead, all she got was a cold fury. “You stole my magic?!” Twilight demanded. “Are you actually dense? Trixie said sympathetic magic, not ‘completely evil and banned’ dark magic! Trixie’s master, Magister Sunburst, was the pioneer of its usage, because of how little magic he himself has. He can borrow the magic of other willing unicorns to cast spells the likes of which Equestria has never seen!” She trotted over to the center of her chalk circle and waved a leg at it. “Trixie had been thinking - you said that you are no good at abstract thinking, and Trixie isn’t good at teaching like some boring old lecturer, so this is the best of both worlds!” Twilight just frowned. She lit her horn and was very relieved that her magic came to her instantly, without issue. Orchid and familiar, too. She let it wisp out with a glare in Trixie’s direction. “Tell me next time you alter my magic,” she growled. “Oh grow up, Sparkle,” Trixie rejoined. “It was perfectly safe. Trixie is a magister, after all. She knows what she is doing.” Her offense morphed into slyness when she saw Twilight wasn't convinced. “And don’t you want to see what kind of magic Trixie can teach now?” Don’t fall for it. Don’t fall for it. Don’t fall for it. “...tell me what the spell you just did really does first.” Oh Celestia dammit. "And explain it this time!" Trixie clapped her hooves. “Oh, nothing too magnificent. Trixie only did a spell that the majority of the magisterium can’t do. Simply, Trixie is skimming some of your magic off the top. Like the frosting on a cake. And it will only work if we’re close when Trixie casts.” “Like some kind of… magical battery?” “Well, if you want to put it like that. Trixie prefers to like it to you being Trixie’s magical assistant. The pony who does the backstage work before a magic show, so that show goes smoothly.” Twilight’s deadpan look must have conveyed her feelings, because Trixie hastily added, “And the thing about assistants is that they know all the magician’s tricks! You can feel how Trixie casts, since it is your magic Trixie is using. Watch.” Trixie’s horn lit orchid and Twilight felt… well, something. In her horn, in her chest, all over. Like pinpricks on her skin. The random magic coalesced into the simple shield Trixie had taught her, and it almost felt like Twilight had cast it herself. Like some kind of phantom limb or something. Not unpleasant, but… distinctly weird. And then Trixie conjured the telsavolte’ spell at the same time. And Twilight understood. The wheel wasn’t a wheel. She felt the magic - her magic - as it flowed into Trixie and split off into the two separate spells. Both were powered by the same raw magic; both felt like they were shaped and molded by rune circles; both intermingled with each other before a hard break where they split off into separate forks. It was… incredible. Twilight rocked back on her hooves. “You can see both of them at the same time. It’s not a circle at all.” She closed her eyes and imagined the circle. Both the shield and the lighting spell were two separate circles, and her mind couldn’t hold both at the same time in two distinct images, but what if they were part of the same whole? What if they were a sphere? With as many circles carved on the surface as you could imagine? “Trixie thinks she’s got it~” Twilight wheeled around, excited. Behind her, by the canyon’s edge, was the perfect boulder to use as a target. First Twilight conjured the shield, then she mentally folded the circle. Her mind wanted to skitter off into a million different directions, but Twilight forced herself to imagine each line, each rune, folding and deforming into the shape she wanted. Then she added the rune circle for the teslavolte to the sphere, taking up the other hemisphere. A sharp crack of light lanced out from Twilight’s horn, hitting the bolder flush. It felt like the whole canyon rumbled under Twilight’s hooves as a massive dark splotch of burnt carbon appeared on the rock face from where the bolt had struck it. Two spells at once - her shield hadn’t waivered. Trixie whistled behind her. “That was a big one,” she said, sounding impressed. “Trixie thinks we’re ready for the next bit of magic. If you feel up to helping Trixie.” Twilight let out a few heavy breaths. Holding two spells like that - It was like trying to look in two different directions at once. Each original runic circle had to be remembered exactly and then distorted correctly on the mental sphere. And you had to imagine the whole, all at once, and keep it in mind for the duration of the spell, while you were moving or chanting or fighting… “How many can you do at once?” she asked, turning to the magister. Trixie looked right back at her, then lifted her chin in a smug challenge. “Six,” she said, and Twilight felt her stomach lurch. How was that possible? How could a mind be trained like that? “Minor castings, of course,” Trixie continued, smiling wider. “Only a few rings of runes. Each.” Twilight’s whole repertoire of spells consisted of two - a shield and a shock spell - that each only had one rune each, on a single ring. A. Single. Ring. But right as Twilight felt the gulf between them yawn wider than ever, Trixie sighed and trotted over to her. “Trixie’s assistant shouldn’t be so discouraged,” she said. “You are just a bit behind the curve. Lack of a proper education and all that. Trixie is going to prove you can reach the same plateau with her help.” She pointed to a blank circle drawn on the ground a few feet away, ignoring the seething glare Twilight was giving her. “Now, stand over there.” Proper education my flank, Twilight thought as she grudgingly went to where Trixie wanted her. “And don’t move too much!” Trixie called out, standing in the middle of the rune circle. Twilight almost wanted to kick through one of the chalk lines out of spite, but it was her magic Trixie was going to be using, so who knows what would happen if the spell went wrong. “What kind of spell is all this anyway?” In response, Trixie pulled out a crystal from her robes - a crystal Twilight instantly recognized as the one from the night Trixie had contacted Magister Sol Shard. The communication crystal. “Going to try something a little more impressive this time,” she said and set the thing down in the dirt by her hooves. “Just remember that we’re casting together. Don’t fight it.” With that last warning, Trixie closed her eyes. Her horn lit. First it was Trixie’s own magenta that slowly enveloped the crystal, lifting it up to eye-level. Then, Twilight felt a tug. A deep tug, deep in her chest, and Trixie’s horn began to spark orchid. First only flashes, but then a raging bonfire of borrowed magic rolled off her horn, flowing into the crystal. “Stop fighting it!” Trixie hissed in Twilight’s direction. She was shaking and sweating, eyes clenched shut. “I’m not!” Twilight hissed back. “I’m not doing anything but stand here like some kind of battery! Maybe if you had just told me-” -why won’t you work!? Why won’t anything I do work out like I need it to?! Twilight blinked. “Trixie?” she asked, but the mare was completely engrossed in casting her spell. Trixie… she hadn’t said anything, had she? I can’t be weaker than her! I can’t be worse than some no-knowing pony from the sticks! Some country bumpkin savant! That was definitely Trixie. Twilight narrowed her eyes at the magister. It must be some kind of bleed through from the connection. Sympathetic magic would be sympathetic, wouldn’t it? Trixie was taking a part of Twilight and using it herself, but would that connection only run one way? Is she in my mind? Twilight wondered. Could she hear Trixie’s thoughts? Even though the wind was whipping back up, Twilight could easily smell the nose-wrinkling stench of black powder, like the kind in fireworks. She’d smelled that before, when Trixie had first cast the spell. Felt the… the pride of the other unicorn? Her ambition to succeed? Her... I have to be useful. Trixie was a stepping stone. Twilight knew that. Everyone was a stepping stone. Bay Orchid, Trixie, the ponies at Fort Dressage - all of them. They were all there just to get Twilight to one place, to one pony. Nothing else mattered. Not a single thing. Not one single pony had ever believe in her, so- Please work. Please. Twilight breathed out. She let her eyes drift closed and imagined the circle. Raidho. Journey. Gyfu. Gift. The hiss of fire made Twilight’s eyes fly back open, and she saw that Trixie’s concentration had been interrupted as well. The white chalk on the ground was turning into a burning rune wheel, like it had been a line of kerosine instead of just chalk. The fire leaped from rune to run, circle to circle, until both Twilight and Trixie were surrounded. But it didn’t burn. Midday in the desert began to bleed away as the white fire sucked the sunlight out of the world. The ground jerked, hard enough that Twilight nearly toppled over. She braced herself and looked to Trixie, trying to figure out if this was part of the spell, but Trixie was staring at her. Fearfully. Twilight looked down at herself. Her white coat filled her vision. At the corners of her eyes, licks of fire danced, and she turned around to see a bonfire where her tail should be. The magic coming from Trixie’s horn was red, flecked with gold, and the spinning crystal was sucking up more and more of it, spinning so fast it was humming. Another lurch of the canyon and the hum became so loud it drowned out everything else. A blast of wind blew away the chalk and the fire both, as the crystal spun wildly in the air between Twilight and Trixie. And then, in a blink of that moment, both the crystals and the two unicorns vanished from the canyon. One hundred miles away, still near enough to Las Pegasus to see the lights in the sky, Magister Sunburst, unicorn of the Sixth Circle, blinked. In the span of that blink, the world had gone greyscale and two unicorns had appeared out of thin air - his apprentice and a lavender unicorn wearing a guard uniform. The magical Entanglement Gem of the Crystal Empire, one of the siblings to the shard he kept himself, clinked down onto the ground in front of him. It was smoking and the smell coming off it smelled like sulfur and rotten eggs. The lavender unicorn took one look around and promptly threw up. Trixie blinked back and that small, bashful, tooth-filled smile she would give him whenever she had messed up slowly blossomed on her face. “...ta-da?”