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// I Hate Trotting 
// Story: I Can Fix Her 
// by I Vicious I 
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The landscape was a desolate tableau of destruction. Opaline's once towering spire was now reduced to a chaotic heap of rubble. Broken shards of enchanted crystal glinted dully among the cracked stone and broken glass. The air was eerily silent, devoid of the usual hum of magical energies that used to surround Opaline's tower. The only audible sounds were the occasional creaks and groans of the remaining debris, settling into their final resting places. A mournful breeze whispered through the wreckage, and carried with it the echoes of a time when Opaline had reigned supreme. The air was filled with the scent of destruction and renewal. The aroma of burnt wood mingled with the earthy fragrance of upturned soil, a result of the tree's forceful impact where Opaline's castle once stood. The majestic tree now stretched its long branches into the heavens above. The mountainside it rose from basked in the warmth of bright sunlight, as the darkness that had once engulfed the region retreated. The returning life brought with it the heavenly aroma of springtime plants and  filled the air with a rejuvenating fragrance."

As the sun reached its apex in the sky, a low hum of magic began to resonate, it steadily rose until its prelude gave way to a flash of bright pink light. Outside the tree, Opaline stood as she breathed heavily. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the first light she had seen in weeks. She attempted to take a step forward, but instead stumbled and found herself plowed into the dirt, face-first. Ordinarily, she would have cursed the ground, the sun, and the now throbbing imprint on her face; but today, the pain was welcome. With every beat of her heart, a new impulse of pain passed through a fresh bruise on her face—a joyful reminder that she was somehow alive.

She coughed deeply, a few pieces of wood flew from her mouth onto the ground as she struggled to right herself. She had finally found her footing. She looked around, taking in the view of the disgusting tree that had once been her glorious castle. Furrowing her brow in disgust, her path forward became clearer than ever before. Those ponys would pay for what they did to her, and she would stop at nothing to reclaim her power.

Her horn charged as she prepared to teleport directly to the Brighthouse. With Twilight's barriers gone, the biggest obstacles in her way was eliminated, and she would now march through the front door to claim what was rightfully hers, the Unity Crystals. No games this time, no tricks, just a brutal frontal assault. 

However, her horn had its own ideas, and it fizzled at this thought, with a quiet whoosh as though a flame was being extinguished. Confused, she performed the spell again, only to experience the same result. Instead of finding herself in front of the Brighthouse, her horn threw sparks through the air. It dawned on Opaline—her magic was almost drained. Like a permanent magical wound, her body wasn't recovering her magical reserves.

"This is impossible!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the ruins like a thunderclap. "How can I, the most formidable being in all of Equestria, find myself on the brink of running dry on magic?" Her frustration resonated in the air, a tempest of power restrained.

A sigh escaped her lips, as she carried the weight of thwarted plans that had relied on sheer magical might. It became evident that a brute force assault was no longer an option. She found herself in possession of just enough magic for one mid-level spell. This predicament demanded finesse over ferocity.

After a contemplative pause, an ominous grin etched itself across her face, a shadowy dance of malevolence. "Those ponys," she mused, eyes gleaming with cunning, "are too trusting. If I were to transform my appearance, I could seamlessly infiltrate their ranks and pilfer their magic right from under their unsuspecting snouts."

The brilliance of this twisted stratagem sparked an unholy delight within her, prompting a maniacal laughter that reverberated through the dark corridors of her thoughts. "Mwah ha ha ha ha ha! Misty, laugh with..." Her voice trailed off, the realization dawning that her once-loyal assistant had betrayed her. The agony of that betrayal flickered briefly, but she quashed it, reminding herself of the insignificance of such emotional trifles. For an Alicorn, feelings were deemed frivolous, even though the sting of losing her only companion lingered. A creature of power and might, she brushed aside the twinge of sorrow, repeating the mantra that a being of her stature had no room for such mundane concerns, no matter how sharp the ache.

With the last of her magic forced through her horn, her body began to change. In a flash of light her horn was gone and her body donned a fresh hew. Finding a sizable shard of reflective crystal, she gazed into it, contemplating what reflected back. She was a Pegasus now, she admired the reflection of her transformed self. The once-vibrant Alicorn was gone, replaced by a sleek, dark-blue-coated Pegasus with a striking silver mane. Despite having no magic left for flight, she couldn't deny that the result was indeed impressive. The transformation had given her a new, captivating appearance. "Ugh, a Pegasus that can't even fly, this form would have been useless if I didn't make it look so good" she mused.

The first step of her revenge unfolded seamlessly, a calculated dance of retribution completed. Maretime Bay beckoned in the distance, the sheepish grin on her face transformed into a solemn acknowledgment as the  distant lights mocked her absence of magic. A melodramatic groan escaped her lips, an echo of the daunting distance to the city, and with determined resolve, she began to trot, each step a testament to the long path ahead.