Garlands

by Petrichord


Won't somepony think of the garlands?

It was Trixie’s job to gather the fir garlands, the beeswax candles, and the goblet of blood.

Amazingly enough, the garlands were the hardest to acquire. The candles were easy: she always carried plenty in her caravan, since having a cheap, disposable light source that looked spectacular in stage productions was virtually a necessity for a travelling showpony. The goblet seemed like a pickle, until she realized that she might have one in the oversized chest marked “unsorted fancy props” tucked in the back. After five minutes of rummaging she had pulled out three, one of which had the sort of fancy squiggles around the rim that cropped up in baroque art all the time and which seemed perfect for this sort of occasion.

Meanwhile, the Hearth’s Warming Eve Blood Drive wasn’t going to miss a pint of blood. The various extracted blood bags were practically unguarded anyway, so they might as well have been giving them away and it wasn’t really a crime for her to grab one. She’d even been thoughtful and grabbed a bag of type AB blood, so that the Ponyville General Hospital could save the good type O stuff for later.

But garlands? There wasn’t a single place in Ponyville that was still selling fresh garlands. There probably weren’t any selling fake garlands either, not that Sunburst would allow it. He’d been adorably fussy about needing “the right things” or else “it wouldn’t work,” as if improvisation didn’t grease the wheels of do-gooder stuff anyway. Granted, he was always adorably fussy; that was part of his charm. But he was especially fussy when it came to magic shenanigans, and things were about to get as shenanigan-y as possible.

As soon as she could find that old hole where the Golden Oak Tree Stump used to be, anyway. Stupid snow. All the beauty and splendor made the ground look all the same, so any old patch of grass might look like a disheveled patch of soil covering up a trap door and she’d have no idea which was which unless the answer hit her square in the face.

“Sunburst? Starlight?” Trixie called as she cut across yet another front yard, circling around the perimeter of the Crystal Friendship Castle School Academy Thing:™: grounds. A light breeze howled a reply as snowflakes continued to fall, but otherwise there was silence.

“Come on, guys.” Trixie called out again. “The ground’s all snowy, I can’t see anything. Tell me that one of you has some kind of listening system thingy set up-”

A trapdoor rose up from the ground and whacked Trixie right in the snout.

The world’s greatest and most powerful showpony rubbed her nose and bit back several choice words as Sunburst climbed out of the trapdoor hole in the ground, looked around anxiously, spotted her and subsequently looked three times as anxious.

“Trixie! Are you okay?” Sunburst sputtered.

“Mmmh. The Great and Powerful Trixie isn’t so feeble as to be deterred by mere discomfort.” Trixie pulled her hoof away and briefly inspected it. “See? Not even a nosebleed.”

Sunburst leaned closer. “I guess you’re right, but still…”

“Just be thankful that you’re weak.” Without warning, Trixie booped Sunburst on the snout and reached up to ruffle his untidy mane. “The Great and Powerful Trixie might have had to challenge you to a magic duel if you had enough muscles to mar her impeccable countenance.”

Sunburst squeaked in surprise and tried unsuccessfully to squirm out from underhoof. “H-hey! I’m not weak! And you’re messing up my mane!”

“You never comb your mane anyway, sweetheart.” Trixie leaned in and kissed Sunburst lightly on the cheek. “It’s charmingly unkempt. Trixie would call it a mad scientist look if you spent more time with test tubes and less time with dusty tomes.”

“I’ve just got a lot to deal with, that’s all. My job, foalsitting, you, Starlight, and…” Still blushing from the kiss, Sunburst blinked, face sliding back towards a neutral expression. “Um, speaking of, did you…?”

“Yes, silly. Nothing’s too difficult for The Great and Powerful Trixie.” Trixie rolled her eyes. “Though you wouldn’t believe what I had to do to get the garlands. Reappropriating public property is one thing, but then having to redecorate afterward to-”

“Including the goblet of-”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “Yes, including the blood.”

“Ah.” Sunburst paused. “I hope you didn’t break the law or…”

Trixie huffed, blowing a gust of mane away from one of her eyes. “No, Trixie went to the neighborhood blood store and bought two bottles from the ‘buy one, get one free’ shelf.”

Sunburst’s ears perked up. “Does Ponyville have one of those?”

“No.”

“Then how did…ohh, you’re being sarcastic.” Sunburst’s ears fell again. “Well, uh…I-I guess as long as we have enough, then-”

A thrill ran down Trixie’s spine. “ ‘We?’ You mean Starlight’s here?”

“Yeah! She’s been helping me put up the decorations and preparing for the ritual.” Sunburst smiled broadly. “She’s amazing at this. I wasn’t expecting her to be so knowledgeable about-”

“Kissing,” Trixie deadpanned. “How much time did you spend making out down there?”

Sunburst blushed, but said nothing.

Trixie threw up a hoof in exasperation. “Half an hour? Really?”

“No! No! Nothing that long.” Sunburst’s eyes widened as he shook his head. “Twenty minutes, tops.”

“Peachy.” Trixie sighed. “You better not have run out of energy for lip-lock in that ritual hole. The Great and Benevolent Trixie’s patience does not extend to letting her marefriend and her stallionfriend having all the fun without her.”

Sunburst’s ears flicked back. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t ask you to be sorry, I asked you to be romantic.” Trixie readjusted her hat and cocked her head. “How did you know I was out here, anyway? Magic? Some sort of fancy camera system?”

“Oh, no! Nothing like that!” Sunburst shook his head. “I just needed to fetch some more mugwort and dandelion leaves from the Ponyville hot house. We ran out.”

“So if you hadn’t forgotten to go shopping earlier today, you would have left Trixie to freeze her keister off in this snowstorm?”

Sunburst froze, mouth open.

Trixie buried her face in her hoof. “Oh, you are going to owe me so many snuggles after we’re finished summoning this stupid demon.”

“Sorry! Again. I mean, yeah, I…okay, lots of snuggles, I promise. And blankets.”

“That’s better.” Trixie huffed. “Can I go in there now? And please tell me it’s heated. The Great and Long-Suffering Trixie is going to be incredibly cross if it’s as frigid in there as it is out here.”

Sunburst nodded. “Nice and warm! Starlight made sure of that. She’s quite good with environmental magic! And, well, magic in general-”

Trixie shivered again and forced a smile. “Yes, yes, Starlight is wonderful. I’ll go down and see how wonderful she is. And after you pick up those herbs, you can show me how wonderful you are, too.”

Sunburst opened his mouth to respond, and Trixie used the opportunity to sneak in a quick kiss. It wasn’t enough to really make her pulse race, but it was enough to shut Sunburst up for a while, which was good, too. They’d be able to make up for lost time later, and Trixie silently admitted to herself that the dumb grin on Sunburst’s face after she pulled away was almost worth it in and of itself.

“Go! Shoo!” Trixie waved a hoof at Sunburst. “I’ve got these garlands to hang up, anyway. The sooner I can wash my hooves of that mess, the better.”

“You do that! I’ll, uh, I’ll see you soon!” Sunburst replied with a still-goofy grin and a wave. Without bothering to linger out in the cold, Trixie waved back, circled around Sunburst, hoisted herself down onto the underground ladder and pulled the trap door shut behind her.


 

The cellar was warm in both letter and spirit, courtesy of what had to be a moderately powerful magical spell, for which Trixie was profoundly thankful. Not that it made up for all that traipsing around in the cold with increasingly heavy saddlebags, but cold compensation was better than no compensation at all.

The things she did for love. Not that she didn’t understand what was going on, but most couples - or throuples, she supposed - probably didn’t have anything more serious to worry about on Hearth’s Warming Eve than spilling their wine or burning their dinners. But the way Sunburst went on about “eternal sacrifice” this and “end of the world” that, one would figure that a frosty apocalypse was just around the corner rather than being some sort of nebulous future possibility.

Was this something she could call “Sunbursting?” Or was “Sunbursting” something like failing to comb your mane and beard, like, ever? Trixie was half tempted to ask Sunburst his thoughts on the matter, but she suspected that Sunburst wouldn’t be amused.

Then Trixie stepped on the bottom rung, turned around and saw the love of her life, and all thoughts about amusing herself went out the window.

Starlight Glimmer looked radiant. Granted, she always looked radiant; there was something about her mane and her smile that was irresistible, even if she was doing something silly like drawing little chalk pictograms onto the floor. Starlight’s colors always stood out in a crowd or among the environment to trixie, but in a cellar lit only by fairy lights hooked up by a wire to a glowing salt crystal? Those colors were practically drenching Trixie’s eyeballs in color, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Glimmy!”

Starlight Glimmer looked up from her arcane scrawlings and broke out into a brilliant smile. “Trixie!”

Trixie galloped over to Starlight as Starlight stood up and dusted off her hooves. Then Starlight kissed her, or she kissed Starlight, or they went in for the kiss equally aggressively, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that a moment later Starlight’s lips were pressed against hers, and then Starlight pulled her closer, and then time sorta lost all meaning for a while.

When Trixie came up for air, she couldn’t help but break out into a brilliant smile. “Happy Hearth’s Warming Eve, babe.”

“Happy Hearth’s Warming Eve, hon,” Starlight replied. “It’s been too long, hasn’t it?”

“I know! A whole week spent on a seasonal tour across Equestria to drum up funds for the Sad and Sickly Little Orphan Foals foundation, and then the first thing The Great and Powerful Trixie finds when she comes back and collects her post is a letter from Sunburst, with all his usual theatrics…” Trixie rolled her eyes and waggled her hoof in the air. “...and a shopping list. Can you believe that?”

“Oh! Well, uh, yeah, I can.” Starlight chuckled nervously and scratched the back of her head. “I was, uh, kind of the one who suggested the ritual in the first place. He’s been helping me organize it.”

A pause filled the underdecorated cellar.

Trixie sighed. “Okay, so both of you think this ritual stuff is really serious, huh.”

“Just trying to stave off the end of civilization for a few years.” Starlight chuckled, though the humor didn’t quite reach her eyes. “And yeah, it had to be this day of the year. I could get into reasons why, but-”

“Long and boring?”

“Long and boring enough for you, yeah.”

“You’re lucky The Great and Patient Trixie has enough spoons to deal with whatever magical nonsense you seem to get wrapped up in every week.” Trixie rubbed her eyes. “Please tell me we’re going to actually do something festive after we’re done with our dark incantations and blasphemous communions?”

“Oh, yeah! Absolutely!” Starlight Glimmer perked up. “I mean, there’s always the holiday party at Princess Twilight Sparkle’s castle-”

“Glimmy.”

“-And I figured the three of us could have our own private little celebration down here, away from everyone else. That’s why I was hoping you could bring some decorations, since we have almost everything else and I was planning on getting it set up after-”

“Oh, thank Celestia somepony actually brought up the garlands!” Trixie cut in. “You would not believe the effort Trixie went into in order to make sure we could-”

“Wait, hold up a minute. There’s something way more important than that.” Starlight held up a hoof. “Did you get the blood?”

“Yes, I got the stupid blood!” Trixie snapped. “It was infinitely less difficult! Why are both of you obsessed with it?!”

“Blood demon,” Starlight replied, expression deadpan.

“...Oh.”

“Did…” Starlight faltered. “Did you read the letter?”

“Skimmed over the boring bits. Got to the instructions and the shopping list. It was too cold and snowy out for me to care about the theatrics, and nopony does theatrics better than The Great and Theatrical Trixie anyway.” Trixie shrugged and opened up her pack. “Want me to set up the candles?”

“In the silver candlesticks, please. The red tallow candles should stay in their bronze candlesticks for now. And don’t step on the-”

“Don’t step on the chalk outlines, I know. Even an amateur magician knows that much.” Lightly tiptoeing her way into the large, square main body of the cellar, Trixie avoided so much as smudging rings upon rings of circles, letters from what were undoubtedly languages long since lost to the history of the spoken tongue, and glyphs that made her eyes hurt when she looked at them too long. In nearly no time at all, all of the beeswax candles were placed neatly in their holders, and with a soft sigh of satisfaction Trixie rummaged through her pack and pulled out the fancy goblet. “Want the goblet in the center circle?”

“Yeah.” Trixie looked up and saw Starlight finish up one last glyph and levitate the chalk back into its box. “Finished! All I need to do is to sprinkle the powdered herbs in the center circle, then we light the candles and pour the blood after we’re all in place.”

“And what about the part where you make out with The Great and Kissable Trixie?”

“Before or after getting the Hearth’s Warming decorations set up?” Starlight grinned playfully.

Trixie grinned back as she left the circle, carefully avoiding the chalk lines. “Both?”

“ ‘Tis the season to be generous.” Starlight replied. Then she laughed, Trixie went in for the kiss, and neither of them came up for air until the celler door banged open and they heard hoofsteps descending the ladder.


“Is everypony ready?”

Sunburst, Starlight and Trixie sat across from each other in a perfect triangle just outside the circle. The cellar stunk from all the crushed herbs and melting tallow, and all the candles made it hard to pick out the precise details of the glyphs in their blinding glow. Not to mention that the cellar floor was uncomfortable enough that Trixie was acutely aware of the risk of her butt going numb if she had to sit on it for much longer

The things she did for love.

“We don’t all have to incite the incantation, right?” Trixie replied. “I’m bad at ancient languages.”

“No, just one of us. I can do it.” Sunburst shook his head, then stared at the goblet. “So, uh…time to pour the blood. Trixie?”

“Got it.” Trixie reached for her bag with one hoof, pulled out the packet of blood and levitated it towards Sunburst.

“Ahh! Great, that should be perfect, thank you…” Sunburst trailed off as he stared at the package. “Wait, did you rob a blood drive for this?”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie does not rob businesses!” Trixie sniffed. “They merely misplaced the blood, and Trixie didn’t bother to correct them.”

“Misplaced it where?”

“Into Trixie’s bag,” Trixie admitted.

“Really.” Sunburst’s brow furrowed. “That’s the story you’re going with?”

“At least The Great and Powerful Trixie isn’t foolish enough to believe you can buy blood from a grocery,” Trixie replied. “Is that seriously why you two asked me to get the blood? Because you wanted to believe there was some kind of open bar for hemophiles in a tiny town and you just needed help in finding it?”

The only reply Trixie received was silence.

“I’d be more annoyed if you two weren’t so cute.” Trixie sighed. “Open it up and pour it in, please.”

Face flushed, Sunburst lifted a pair of small shears into the air, snipped the packet open and tipped its contents into the goblet, filling it up to the brim. Squeezing the packet completely dry, Sunburst tossed it outside of the circle, picked up an old, heavy-looking tome at his side and flipped through the pages. “Starlight, you’re going to do the talking, right?”

“I think it’ll be easiest if I’m the one to negotiate,” Starlight replied. “Demons respect power, and…no offense to either of you, but, uh…”

“None taken.” Trixie shook her head. “I can argue about this when we’re not in a stinking hole in the ground. Do your thing.”

“Okay. Okay. Got it.” Starlight nodded, looking apprehensive. “Uh…Sunburst, start us off…?”

Starburst cleared his throat and took a deep breath. As he began the recitation, his horn glowed, his eyes rolled back into his head and a thin trickle of opaque liquid dribbled out of his lips. 

“Caacrinolaas, audi causam meam.
Caacriniolaas, voco!
Suscipe humilem oblationem meam;
ut adiuvet me in hora necessitatis!”

A hot breeze blew unexpectedly through the cellar, causing the tallow candles to gutter out one by one. The powdered herbs smoked, then crumbled further until they left nothing but ash.

“Caacrinolaas, audi causam meam.
Caacriniolaas, voco!
Suscipe humilem oblationem meam;
ut adiuvet me in hora necessitatis!”

The beeswax candles dimmed; the fairy lights flared, then went dead. The goblet rattled, spilling a single trail of sticky blood down the side.

“Caacrinolaas, audi causam meam.
Caacriniolaas, voco!
Suscipe humilem oblationem meam;
ut adiuvet me in hora necessita-”

The goblet erupted in a fountain of blood. The beeswax candles flared higher and brighter as the blood redoubled and redoubled again, swelling into a massive crimson ball before twisting, shifting, and coalescing into a red protean mass somewhere between a griffon and a corgi.

“𝕬𝖍𝖆𝖍𝖆𝖍𝖆! 𝕴 𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖎𝖎𝖎𝖎𝖎𝖎𝖎𝖘𝖊! 𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑𝖘 𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙!” the creature roared. “𝕸𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖘! 𝖂𝖍𝖞 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖒𝖊?”

Starlight did not flinch. “Oh mighty beast, I wish to form a pact.”

“𝕬 𝖕𝖆𝖈𝖙? 𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖘?” the demon rumbled, looming over Starlight. “𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖌𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊?”

“I seek…” Starlight trembled as she gulped, then took a deep breath. “I am well aware of the ever-present threat of the Windigos to all sentient life. I offer myself as a barrier to them.”

Blood dripped from the creature and began to pool on the floor as it waited.

“Should…” Starlight Glimmer coughed. “Should there be no other recourse to prevent our extinction, if and only if the alternative is utter desolation and the guttering of life itself, then seal me away with them, trapped in a pocket dimension, that we might struggle vainly against each other and to escape, but to no avail. That is my offer: my everlasting self.”

“𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌” the creature purred. “𝕸𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖓'𝖙 𝖘𝖔 𝖚𝖕𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖙 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖌𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖚𝖕 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗 𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖘. 𝕸𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊 𝖎𝖙 𝖓𝖊𝖊𝖉𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖆𝖝𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒.”

“I wish for the defense of Equestria. I know the price.” Starlight Glimmer looked the demon in the place where its eyes should have been. “And it is a price I’ll pay willingly.”

The creature stared back impassively. “𝕳𝖔𝖜 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖔𝖎𝖈. 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖘𝖆𝖎𝖉, 𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖒𝖊 𝖇𝖊 𝖇𝖑𝖚𝖓𝖙: 𝕴 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖊𝖕𝖙 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖘. 𝖄𝖔𝖚'𝖛𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊. 𝕬𝖓𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖊𝖑𝖘𝖊?”

Starlight’s jaw dropped. “I…but…But this is the sort of thing you-”

“𝖄𝖊𝖘, 𝖎𝖙'𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖕𝖚𝖗𝖛𝖎𝖊𝖜, 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖒𝖊 𝖜𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖌.” Abruptly, the beast sounded very annoyed. “𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖘𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖚𝖕 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖘 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖓𝖊𝖇𝖚𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖘 𝖋𝖚𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖘, 𝖎𝖋𝖘, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖓𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖘, 𝖎𝖙'𝖘 𝖋𝖆𝖗 𝖙𝖔𝖔 𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖞 𝖙𝖔 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖜𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖇𝖞 𝖆 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖑 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖕𝖔𝖓𝖞 𝖉𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖆 𝖓𝖎𝖙𝖕𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝖑𝖆𝖜-𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖑-𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖚𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖗. 𝕯𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖑𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖔𝖓𝖞 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖗𝖚𝖓 𝖆 𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖒 𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝖉𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓 𝖇𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊?”

“I wasn’t…I would never!” Starlight sputtered. “I’m being honest!”

“𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖆𝖗𝖊.” Blood continued to drip onto the cellar floor in an ever-widening pool. “𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖔 𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞, 𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖙𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖔𝖗𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌. 𝕻𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖒𝖊, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖙𝖗𝖞 𝖙𝖔 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖔𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖚𝖓𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖓 𝕬𝕮𝕿𝖀𝕬𝕷 𝖕𝖆𝖈𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊.”

“Why, is her soul not good enough for you?” Trixie snapped.

The creature swiveled to face Trixie, who abruptly felt as if somepony had just shoved an iron rod up her colon. “𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖍𝖔 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖄𝕺𝖀?”

Trixie snuck a quick glance at Sunburst and Starlight. Both looked horrified at her, and Sunburst appeared to be trying to silently motion at her to stop talking. Rolling her eyes, Trixie looked back up at the creature again. “The Great and Powerful Trixie. What’s yours?”

“𝖂𝖍...𝖉𝖎𝖉𝖓'𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖔𝖓 𝖒𝖊? 𝕯𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖒𝖞 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊?” The beast sputtered indignantly.

“No? I just showed up here to help out my marefriend and stallionfriend with some business they said was important.”

“𝕯𝖎𝖉𝖓'𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖙𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌? 𝕲𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆 𝖑𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖗 𝖆 𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖔, 𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖘?”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie doesn’t need help understanding the theatrics of a situation. Blah, blah, ritual, Equestria hangs in the balance, very important, here’s a shopping list.” Trixie huffed. “The rest is semantics.”

“𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖘𝖊𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖘!” The creature roared.

“You still haven’t given me a name” Trixie countered. “What else did you want me to call you?”

The demon puffed out its chest, far more than any individual pony was capable of, and spread its two viscous claws wide. “𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝕲𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖞𝖆-𝕷𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖑𝖆𝖘, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖉!”

“Too long.” Trixie reached up and readjusted her hat, continuing to ignore the horrified looks of her significant others. “Can I shorten that up a bit? Call you Bolas, or something?”

The entity stared at her, unblinking, its expression - or lack thereof - inscrutible. Trixie kept her expression neutral for several seconds until the creature finally replied. “𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖓 𝖊𝖝𝖈𝖊𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞 𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖊𝖐𝖞 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖑. 𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖓'𝖙 𝖉𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖉𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖌𝖚𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖗 𝖎𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖉, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝕴'𝖒 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝕴 𝖍𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚.”

“Trixie gets that a lot! Mostly from the many, many towns that ponies have run me out of. You aren’t the first to be disdainful and you won’t be the last, but that doesn’t change the fact that your name is long enough to be awkward in conversations.” Trixie smirked. “Bolas.”

“𝖄𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌.”

“But am I wrong?”

Again, the demon fell silent for several seconds before delivering its reply. “𝕷𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖑𝖆𝖘 𝖎𝖘 𝖆𝖓 𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖊𝖕𝖙𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖇𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖚𝖙𝖊. 𝕹𝖔 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖗.”

“There we go! Finally, a little bit of communication between professionals!” Trixie clapped her hooves. “So, now that we’re on speaking terms: Where do you get off implying that Glimmy’s sacrifice isn’t good enough for you?”

“𝕴𝖙'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖆 𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 '𝖌𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖊𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍,' 𝖎𝖙'𝖘-”

“Yeah, yeah, not wanting to be screwed by a scam, Trixie gets it. I’m not going to say that ponies never cheat on contracts, because they do. All the time. Everypony does it.” Trixie spread her hooves exasperatedly. “Heck, I do it when the contract sucks and I think I can get away with it.”

Labolas folded his makeshift arms over his formless chest. “𝖄𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖕𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖈𝖆𝖘𝖊.”

“Good thing I’m not making my case, am I? I’m making hers. Have you read any newspaper ever in the past decade? This gorgeous and extremely talented idiot,” Trixie said, gesturing at Starlight, “is the second name when it comes to saving the world from seemingly unstoppable evils. It’d take you fifteen minutes tops of reading through articles about her to know that she’s one of those former antiheroes that’s about as little ‘anti-’ and as much ‘-hero’ as it’s possible to get. And those sorts of noble numbskulls really aren’t as sneaky as they should be.”

“𝕯𝖔 𝕴 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖗𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓 𝖜𝖍𝖔'𝖘 𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖜𝖆𝖑𝖐 𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖘 𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝖉𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖞 𝖇𝖆𝖘𝖎𝖘?” Labolas arched one of the blood-flesh-y regions around one of its eye-areas into a contemptuous quirk. “𝕴 𝖌𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎𝖋 𝕴 𝖆𝖘𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖘 𝖜𝖍𝖔 𝖍𝖆𝖉 𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖒𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖎𝖋 𝖎𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖔𝖐𝖆𝖞 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖞 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞'𝖉 𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖊 𝕴 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖌𝖔 𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑-𝖒𝖚𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖊.”

“Would you?”

“𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖇𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖞, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖌𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖚𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙.” Labolas shook its head. “𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖙 𝖎𝖘, 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖈𝖆𝖓'𝖙 𝖊𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖙 𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖐𝖊𝖊𝖕 𝖚𝖕 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖑 𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘.”

“No, but you can check their souls, can’t you? Trixie assumes that not all souls are equal in your…eye areas, whatever you want to call them” Trixie offered, pointing at her eyes with one hoof.

“𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖓, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖓'𝖙.” Labolas cocked its head-area to the side. “𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊, 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖎𝖘 𝖋𝖑𝖎𝖒𝖘𝖞 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖚𝖓𝖕𝖆𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖊.”

“There’s a joke to be made here, but it’s too juvenile for The Great and Powerful Trixie to deign to recognize its existence.” Trixie snorted. “Still, if you can back up your big talk, go ahead and take a look at Glimmy’s soul.”

“Trixie!” Starlight squeaked as Labolas turned towards her. The demon’s bloody form quivered for a second as it faced vaguely in Starlight Glimmer’s direction before a small hole opened near its mouth and a hideous noise filled the air.

It took Trixie a couple seconds to realize it was whistling its approval.

“I know, right?” Trixie nodded her head. “Ponies don’t really get much better than her.”

“𝕳𝖔𝖜 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖑 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖒𝖘 𝖉𝖎𝖉 𝖘𝖍𝖊 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖚𝖈𝖐 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖄𝕺𝖀?”

“Eh. The Great and Powerful Trixie is pretty charming once you get to know her,” Trixie replied. “Otherwise, how else would she wind up with two brainy, alluring nerds with way more talent than they give themselves credit for?”

“𝕿𝖜𝖔? 𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊'𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 - 𝖔𝖍.” Labolas looked around, spotted Sunburst and raised a wet tendril in greeting. “𝕳𝖎, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊.”

“Meep,” Sunburst replied, looking like he wished he could phase right through the celler floor and sink to the bottom of the earth.

Labolas paused again, then turned back to Trixie. “𝕺𝖐𝖆𝖞, 𝖞𝖊𝖆𝖍, 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑'𝖘 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝖏𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖞, 𝖙𝖔𝖔. 𝕴 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖎𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖑, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗.”

“You get why Trixie is annoyed, though, right?” Trixie arched an eyebrow. “Stop undervaluing the loves of my life. Don’t you dare imply to me that Starlight Glimmer’s soul isn’t good enough for you to work with, especially since you can see the difference.”

“𝕴 𝖒𝖊𝖆𝖓 - 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐, 𝖎𝖙'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖛𝖆𝖑𝖚𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑, 𝖔𝖐𝖆𝖞?” Labolas erupted, and the candles around him blazed into brilliant light. “𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖜𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖊 𝖇𝖎𝖙 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖛𝖆𝖑𝖚𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖆 𝖉𝖎𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓. 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖙 𝖎𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕴 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊, 𝕴'𝖒 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖎𝖙, 𝕵𝖚𝖘𝖙 - 𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖎𝖙 𝖌𝖔 𝖆𝖑𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖞! 𝕾𝖍𝖊𝖊𝖘𝖍!”

The candles dimmed again. Labolas fell back into silence, scratched the back of his barely-formed neck and cleared his nonexistent throat.

“𝕮𝖆𝖓 𝕴 𝖌𝖔 𝖓𝖔𝖜? 𝕺𝖗 𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖌𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖘𝖘 𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊?”

Trixie looked over at Starlight Glimmer. It was almost startling to see how many expressions were swimming over Starlight’s face, virtually unconcealed; fear, desperation, admiration, anger, exasperation all swirled together in a wide-eyed cocktail that grew increasingly unpleasant for Trixie to look at.

Clearly, this wasn’t how Starlight wanted things to go. Clearly, a bit of a change-up was in order. “I’ve got a couple of questions, actually.”

“𝕺𝖍, 𝖏𝖔𝖞. 𝕾𝖚𝖗𝖊, 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗. 𝕲𝖔 𝖆𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉.” Labolas mumbled.

“If you don’t want to sign anything over now, well…okay, The Great and Powerful Trixie can’t speak for Starlight on this one. Starlight’s awesome, just like Trixie is awesome, but they’re awesome in different ways and I’m not about to run her life for her.”

“𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖉 𝖒𝖊.”

Trixie tipped her hat up. “Trixie will let that one slide, because you’re clearly cranky and want to go home and take a nap. Which, sometimes, when I’m dragging myself throughout the country to raise funds for orphans? Yeah, I totally get that. Complete mood, 100%. The point is, if you’re not going to do this now, can we at least have some way of contacting you quickly in the future when this becomes relevant, so we don’t have to do all this ritual preparation again? It is freezing out there, and Trixie would like to not have to deal with snow and cold and whacking her nose and nicking bags from a blood drive again.”

“You said they were misplaced,” Sunburst mumbled petulantly.

“Let mommy do the talking, sweetie,” Trixie fired back at Sunburst. “Be a good boy and keep your tongue still and Trixie will let her tongue do all the moving for you when we’re done having this little chat with Bolas.”

“𝕷𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖑𝖆𝖘!”

“Shutting up now!” Sunburst chirped.

“But yeah, we gave you all the ritual offerings, Trixie is pretty sure we said all the important words, and if you aren’t going to make a pact now then you effectively cheated us out of that time and money. And Trixie knows how demons feel about cheating.”

Labolas grunted, raised a talon in the air, paused, lowered it again, then raised it a second time. “𝕲𝖔𝖙 𝖕𝖆𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊?”

Trixie glanced at Starlight, then Sunburst. “Does a book count?”

“𝕾𝖚𝖗𝖊. 𝕷𝖊𝖒𝖒𝖊 - 𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓, 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊...?” Labolas glanced around, before his gaze fell on Sunburst’s tome. “𝕬𝖍𝖍, 𝕴 𝖘𝖊𝖊. 𝕲𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖆 𝖘𝖊𝖈.”

“That book’s public property…” Sunburst whimpered as Labolas grabbed the book from Sunburst’s hooves, opened up the back of the book and jotted something down on a blank page with his talon. After a couple seconds, he held up the book, showing that the formerly-blank page now depicted what looked like a compact, highly ornate rendition of the ritual circle Trixie had helped construct  under an hour ago. “𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖞-𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖈𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖑𝖊. 𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖆 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖎𝖙'𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖔𝖓 𝖒𝖊 𝖚𝖕 𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖑𝖞. 𝕴𝖙'𝖘 𝖆 𝖔𝖓𝖊-𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖙, 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍, 𝖘𝖔 𝕻𝕷𝕰𝕬𝕾𝕰 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝖎𝖙 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖌𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖆 𝖕𝖆𝖈𝖙 𝕬𝕿 𝕿𝕳𝕬𝕿 𝕸𝕺𝕸𝕰𝕹𝕿. 𝕴𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗 𝖊𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖞𝖔𝖚?”

“Glimmy?” Trixie replied, looking over at Starlight.

Starlight nodded mutely.

“It’ll do.” Trixie nodded. “One last thing: Can pacts like these have co-signers?”

Labolas tilted its thick head to the opposite side. “𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖓.”

“See, the way it sounded coming from Starlight’s mouth…” Trixie nodded at Starlight. “Made it sound like she was going to be struggling with the Windigos for dominance alone, forever. The Great and Powerful Trixie can’t kick all of those Windigo butts by herself, much as it’s scandulous for her to admit, but she can definitely deal with the ‘alone’ bit of that equation.”

“𝕭𝖞...?”

“Adding her soul to the mix, duh.” Trixie made a dismissive gesture with her hoof. “The Great and Powerful Trixie isn’t going to let her forever mare suffer eternally in isolation. Forever means forever, so whenever Starlight’s going to throw her soul into a Windigo barrier or however that works, bring Trixie’s soul along with her. She could probably use the company.”

Starlight and Sunburst’s jaws dropped in silent unison as Labolas gazed impassively at Trixie. “𝕴 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖌𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖈 𝖋𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗 𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘, 𝖙𝖔𝖔.”

“Probably! But that’s a problem for Future Trixie. She can figure out what she wants later. Like you said - no postdated contracts, right?”

Labolas made a creaking, withered sound, which Trixie decided was probably a relieved sigh. “𝖂𝖊𝖑𝖑, 𝖆𝖙 𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖊.”

“Trixie’s a good listener when she wants to be!” Trixie replied smugly.

“𝕬𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓, 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖉 𝖒𝖊. 𝕬𝖓𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖊𝖑𝖘𝖊?”

“Um,” Sunburst interrupted. “Is there any way for me to get in on the co-signature?”

“𝕾𝖚𝖗𝖊, 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖇𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖞. 𝕬𝖗𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖌𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖚𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊, 𝖙𝖔𝖔?”

Sunburst nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

“No!”

Sunburst and Trixie stared over at Starlight, who looked incandescent with fury and panic.

“This isn’t a game, guys!” Starlight yelled. “This isn’t some stupid romantic gesture! I didn’t set this all up so I could reaffirm our love, I set it up so that a terrible future timeline for Equestria wouldn’t come to pass! There’s no reason for you to throw your eternities away like that!”

“Trixie isn’t ‘throwing it away,’ ” Trixie replied. “This seems pretty open-and-shut to Trixie. She’d rather suffer forever with you than know that you suffered forever alone. And if you’re doing it to save Equestria - if or when Equestria needs saving like that, anyway - then Trixie can think of worse things to suffer eternal torment for.”

“I agree, actually.” Sunburst said, readjusting his spectacles. “If there’s any noble cause worth suffering immensely for, it’s better to suffer it with soulmates than by yourself.”

“Right on, honey,” Trixie agreed.

“I…there are so many things wrong with that statement.” Starlight rubbed her face and looked up at Labolas. “But I guess the ritual’s botched, anyway, so there’s not a lot of point in arguing things out anymore. I think we’re done here.”

“𝕮𝖔𝖔𝖑. 𝕴'𝖑𝖑 𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖔 𝖋𝖎𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖑𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖓, 𝖚𝖓𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖑𝖞 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖜𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊 𝖆 𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝖔𝖓 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖊 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞 𝖆𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖚𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖎𝖘𝖙.” Labolas stretched, nearly filling the room with its sanguine presence, and looked just about ready to wink out of existence before coming to a halt. “𝕹𝖎𝖈𝖊 𝖌𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖘, 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖞. 𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙.”

“Finally!”  Trixie raised her hooves skyward in triumph. “Somecreature gets it!”

And then Labolas vanished. The fairy lights flickered back on, the candles returned to their original brightness, and nothing remained of the demon save for a few splotches of blood on the cellar floor.

For a few seconds, nopony spoke. Starlight was the first to break the silence. “So. Furious as I am that you messed up the ritual-”

“Trixie disagrees-”

“I just want to confirm something. Are you two saying that you would honestly, earnestly be willing to suffer indefinitely, never finding peace in the afterlife, locked away in an endless struggle to prevent frosty oblivion from dooming equestria to a lifeless fate - for my sake?”

“Absolutely,” Trixie and Sunburst said in unison.

Starlight blinked. Then, abruptly, she laughed. Starlight laughed until tears formed in her eyes and wet coughs punctuated each burst of laughter.

Then Trixie started laughing, and Sunburst started laughing, and the three of them went in for a group hug next to the empty, formerly-blood-filled goblet, and doom and the end of the world and existential horror didn’t matter for a while. Which, in and of itself, was enough to delay a frozen, Windigo-induced apocalypse for another year.

And save for a groundskeeper frustrated by the disappearance of some of his garlands and a foal rendered anemic for want of a pint of blood, all was right with the world.