//------------------------------//
// Chapter 11 Part B: It Was Such A Small Wish - Knight Side 
// Story: Magical Pony Lyrical Twilight A's 
// by PurpleProse 
//------------------------------//

	The following events occur concurrently with the events of Night Side.

---

Fancy Pants’ manor was quite quiet in the morning hours, a fact that Shamal greatly appreciated. The Knight quietly laid on her side in the guest bed Fancy had let her use, the covers pulled up tight against her chin.
She felt miserable. To be fair, she had every right to feel miserable; her fellow Knights never returned last night, and when Trixie had found out what they had been doing while she had been unconscious…
Well, her reaction hadn’t been pleasant to say the least.
Shamal shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable in the unfamiliar bed. Her sleep had been fitful at best. Her surroundings didn’t help matters much either; she wasn’t used to such a large bed, nor the numerous pillows that always threatened to swallow her head, nor the large and unfamiliar bedroom. Her instincts had kept her up all night, her eyes checking every shadow and watching the moonlight pool from behind the drawn curtains.
And now, it was morning. Shamal shifted and sighed, pushing off the sheets and slowly dragging herself off the bed and out the door. She probably looked like a mess with her ruffled mane and puffy eyes, but she didn’t particularly care.
“Miss Lake?”
Shamal blinked as she heard the voice. One of Fancy’s maids approached her, her black skirt swishing as she walked. She was about Shamal’s apparent age, slightly plump with a pale gray coat. Her eyes were a light shade of lavender, and a short horn protruded from her straight, charcoal gray and white mane.
“Um… yes?” Shamal frowned, searching for the mare’s name.
“Sterling Silver, miss,” the mare supplied promptly. “We met last night. Do you need any assistance?”
“Um… yes.” Shamal ducked her head. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Right up the hall,” the mare pointed a hoof. “Last door at the end. Breakfast will be served in half an hour in the dining room. Shall I inform Master Fancy that you’ll be attending?”
“Yes please.”
“Very good. I’ll have somepony attend to your room while you wash up. If you need anything, do not hesitate to call.”
Shamal nodded, then watched the maid trot off at a quick pace, her tail swishing as she did so. She shook her head, then turned and headed in the direction of the bathroom. 

---

Fancy Pants settled himself into the chair at the table as Pennyworth stood at his side, a clipboard hovering before the much larger unicorn as he spoke.
“…and Mr. Bullion of the Royal Bank sent in a message last night. Apparently you missed your appointment with him yesterday evening.” Pennyworth’s rumble was slightly disappointed. “He was quite irritated by this fact. He wants to meet later today to discuss your portfolio…”
“Mm,” Fancy Pants replied distractedly. “Send a message to Mr. Bullion that I’ll have to re-schedule due to a personal obligation. Ask if he can schedule for next Tuesday.”
“Of course, sir.” Pennyworth hovered his quill and made the note. “And the rest?”
“Inform Mrs. Sunflower that no, I am not interesting in selling the Pintocasso at this time. I will, however, be willing to exchange the Roanet if she can part with her Van Goat. Send an apology to High Roller for missing the meeting with him and his friends last night; I‘ll have to speak with him when I stop by Los Pegasus next month. Make sure to increase the donation to the Manehattan Hope House this month; I’ve heard they’ve been having some trouble with the roof.” Fancy Pants hmmed softly. “Oh… and please make sure to accept Hoity Toity’s invitation to his next fashion show once it arrives. I know it hasn’t yet, but he always invites me and I’d hate to miss this one.”
“Duly noted, sir.” Pennyworth nodded, flipping to the next page. “Will you be bringing a guest to his show?”
“Well, I’ll have to see if Swan…”
Fancy paused, a hoof rubbing his chin. That was a question. What had originally been an intriguing courtship had become extremely complicated given the revelations yesterday. And while he had no problem continuing the relationship with Swan, the question was if it was even possible to continue it.
His musing was interrupted when the door to the dining room opened, Swan trotting through. Fancy did his best to put on a comforting smile as the slim mare approached the table, taking a seat with her head lowered. Her mane was still slightly slick and wet, but aside from that she was perfectly presentable.
“Good morning Swan,” he said cordially. “How are you feeling?”
“About the same,” she murmured, still not looking at him.
“Are you still upset about last night?” Fancy sighed as Shamal nodded. He couldn’t really blame her. “Swan…”
“It’s okay.” Swan replied, still not looking at him. “I deserved it. We deserve it. I knew she’d be upset when she found out what we did. She’s right to hate me…”

---

“Get out!”
“I’m sorry,” Swan whimpered softly, the pillow that Trixie had weakly tossed in her direction still resting at her hooves. The mare was trembling, almost cowering from the bed-ridden blue unicorn. “I’m sorry, Mis-”
“I don’t care… if you’re sorry!” Trixie huffed, her lavender eyes glaring at Swan. “I told you to get out! Go away! Trixie does not want… to see your face right now! That‘s an order!”
Swan didn’t argue. Instead, she simply bowed her head, mumbled a “Yes, Mistress,” turned and walked out without another word.
Trixie panted softly, slowly collapsing back against the pillows as her chest rose and fell, her eyes staring up at the ceiling.
“Will you be alright for right now, Trixie?” Fancy Pants asked quietly.
“Trixie would like some privacy, if it’s not too much trouble,” the mare replied half-heartedly.
“Very well. I’ll have one of my maids check on you in a little while. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call out.”
Fancy turned and left, shutting the door behind him. Swan stood out in the hall, facing away from the door, her mane hiding her eyes as she stood there. Her tail hung low and brushed the ground, while her posture made her look like she was half-melted.
Fancy gently touched her side, giving her a gentle nudge to get her attention. “Swan?”
Swan’s expression reminded Fancy of a puppy that had just gotten kicked. “Fancy…I…”
“Shh… It’s going to be alright Swan.” Fancy smiled gently letting her lean against him as she sniffled. “Don’t worry. Now…why don’t I show you to your room. It’s been a long day, and you’re probably exhausted.”
Swan nodded silently and followed along beside him.

---

“I don’t think she hates you, Swan,” Fancy countered, nodding as one of the wait staff brought in their breakfast. “she might be upset with you, but I don’t think she hates you.”
Swan didn’t reply, nudging her plate with a hoof gently. Fancy Pants took a bite of his omelet, watching her as he chewed. It didn’t seem like she was paying him any mind.
“If you’d like,” Fancy Pants continued after swallowing, his horn glowing as he cut another bite out of his omelet, “we can go out later tonight…”
“No.” Swan shook her head. “I must stay here. Even if Mistress hates me, I still serve her. I need to be nearby in case something happens.”
“I understand,” Fancy replied. “I just don’t like seeing you so upset. I thought some fresh air might do you some good. Clear your head.”
Swan blinked, looking over at him with a shy smile on her lips. “T-thank you. But I really can’t. I shouldn‘t be too far away from Mistress…”
“That’s fine. Perhaps we can take lunch outside in the garden?”
“That… I guess that’d be fine.”
“Whatever you like, Swan. Now, why don’t you try your omelet? After all, the last thing we need is for you to go hungry.”
Swan nodded, cutting into her own food. She took a bite, then let out a soft ‘mm’ of delight, causing Fancy to chuckle. “Well, I didn’t expect such a rapturous reaction to an omelet…”
Swan let out a soft squeak around her fork, then blushed. “S-sorry. It’s just… you know… I‘m not used to food actually being… good.”
“I understand.” Fancy smiled at the blushing mare. “It’s just nice to see you smile. You really are very pretty when you’re happy.”
Swan shivered and blushed deeper, then turned her attention to the contents of her plate as Fancy took a sip from a glass of orange juice. Discussing their relationship could come later. Right now, he was more interested in cheering Swan up. Everything else could wait.

---

“Any more porridge, Miss Trixie?”
Trixie shook her head as the thin, glasses-wearing maid lowered the spoon, her chartreuse-yellow magic winking out as she set the utensil onto the tray. “Would you like me to leave the rest here, or-”
“Trixie has had her fill, Miss Feather Duster.” she replied, slumping back against the pillows and closing her eyes. “You may take Trixie’s tray away now. Trixie will not need it.”
“Of course. Is there anything else I can help you with? Would you like the window opened or-”
“Trixie is fine.” She gave a soft grunt, turning her head away as she spoke. “You may leave now.”
“Of course. If you require anything else, there will be somepony stationed right outside your door. Simply call.”
Trixie grunted in reply, her eyes opening only when she heard the click of the door opening and shutting. She stared silently at the far wall, the sunlight creeping in through the drawn curtains providing only a small amount of light.
Experimentally, she lifted a hoof, looking at it quietly before she leaned in, gently biting down on the tender flesh of her fetlock. In response, she winced and released, grimacing as she let the limb drop.
I’m awake. This isn’t a dream. This isn’t a dream…
She was awake this time. And unlike the previous trip to consciousness, she didn’t feel the need to sleep pulling her down, the lure of dreamless oblivion trying to reel her back down into the darkness. No, she felt normal; or at least, something close to normality. 
But why now?
Trixie groaned and rolled over again, her full belly like an uncomfortable weight in her midsection. Her eyes landed on a familiar brown-covered tome on her nightstand, the golden cross on its cover glinting in the faint sunlight.
“Why did you let me wake up?” Her voice came out in a whisper, so as to not to alert anypony that might be outside her door. “I don’t understand…”
The book didn’t reply, which caused Trixie to growl.
“I want an answer, you stupid book. I want to know why I’m awake now. Tell me!”
Trixie…
Trixie froze, her eyes rolling about as she searched for the source of that voice. It seemed to come from everywhere around her. Or was that just a trick of her mind? “You… that voice… it’s you isn’t it? That… that pony from my dream…”
Yes.
Trixie felt her mouth go dry. Her hooves went to her temples as she squeezed her eyes shut. “No… I can hear you. But I’m awake… how can I hear you while I’m awake!?”
We are still connected. So long as your connection to the book remains, I can speak to you.
Trixie inhaled and tried to steady her breathing, lowering her hooves and laying back against the pillows. “Why am I awake now?”
I… I have grown stronger. The voice seemed almost embarrassed by this fact. I have grown strong enough to free you from the Dreaming…
“You sure took your sweet time,” Trixie grumbled.
I am sorry.
“Don’t be sorry,” Trixie hissed, looking up at the ceiling. “Trixie wants… demands an explanation. You left Trixie in the dark for who-knows-how long and Trixie wants to know why!”
If I had not, you would be dead.
Trixie blinked, feeling a chill run down her spine as the voice continued. The Book of Darkness had consumed your Linker Core and was consuming your consciousness. I used what little strength I had to shield you. I sank you into the Dreaming so that it would be unable to find you…
“And… and that’s why…”
I tried to save you. But I was too weak. I could not wake you until now…
“Why?”
The voice hesitated. The Guardian Knight Shamal… she gave me power.
Trixie’s teeth ground. “She fed somepony’s-”
No. This power was not stolen. It was something… I had not felt in a long time. Love.
Trixie blinked. “Love?”
Love. She had found love. When she healed you I accessed it as well. I… it gave me strength once more. Strength enough to free you from the Dreaming. It is… difficult to explain. But had it not been for her, you would still be lost in the dark.
Trixie started to make a smart remark, but let it die before it left her lips. When Shamal had told her of what she and the others had been doing, she had been furious. The Knights had gone against her wishes and she had felt betrayed. The idea that they had been…
No. She shook her head, pushing the idea away. She didn’t even want to think about that. “You…said she found love?”
Yes. Her love is… pure. Unsullied. Innocent.
“With…who? A pony?”
I do not have that information.
So I guess her loyalty to me must not have counted for much. Trixie sniffed softly, rolling her eyes, then blinked as the door cracked open.
“Trixie?” A mare peeked in on her, the fluffy white headpiece marking her as one of Fancy’s servants. “Are you alright? I thought I heard you talking to somepony.”
“Trixie is fine,” Trixie replied hurriedly. “Trixie was just… thinking about things. Out loud.”
“Oh.” The maid blinked, seeming to accept the answer. “Um…well, if there’s anything you need-”
“Trixie would like some water, if you would. With ice.”
“Of course. Right away.”
Trixie grumbled as the door shut before turning her attention back to the book. “So… now what? Can’t you fix me? Give me my magic back? Give me my cutie mark back?”
I’m sorry, but that is not within my power. It was by luck alone that I was able to even save you…  I am sorry.
“Ugh…” Trixie groaned. “Fine… Trixie will find some other way then.”
I am sorry…
“Stop saying that!” Trixie frowned as she felt the presence recoil from her snap, then sighed. “Trixie apologizes. She is just in a poor mood, that’s all. Trixie shouldn’t take out her frustrations on you after what you’ve done for her. If what you say is true, Trixie owes you a great debt.”
Trixie glanced back to the door as the knob turned. “We’ll continue this discussion later,” she whispered furtively rolling onto her back as the maid brought in a glass of water.
“Here’s your water, Miss Trixie,” she smiled, hovering the glass to her lips. 
Trixie daintily sipped and closed her eyes.

---

“It’s nice to see you again, Proper Practice. I apologize for calling you out here on such short notice.”
Shamal looked the doctor over as Fancy Pants spoke to her. Proper Practice was a unicorn mare. The faint wrinkles beneath her eyes and her long muzzle suggested she was older than Fancy Pants. Her coat was a dull, surgical-scrubs-green, and her salt-and-pepper mane was pulled back in a tight bun. A pair of round glasses perched at the end of her muzzle, the frames thick and black. A pair of saddlebags hung on either side of her body, and her flanks were marked with a white caduceus outlined in black.
Proper Practice reached up, giving the stallion a small hug with one leg before adjusting her glasses. “You wouldn’t have called me if it wasn’t important. So, what’s the emergency this time?”
This time? Shamal blinked. She recognized the doctor’s accent from her time in Manehattan.
“Well, we have something of a special case…”
Proper Practice shook her head. “It’s always a special case.” Her gray eyes focused on Shamal, one of the mare’s eyebrows quirking. “Is she the patient, or-”
“Ah, no. Swan Lake, meet Proper Practice, an old friend of mine. Proper Practice, this is Swan Lake, my… friend.”
“H-how do you do?” Shamal nodded her head with an embarrassed smile, causing Proper Practice to exhale softly with a roll of her eyes.
“Fancy, you really should consider dating a mare more your age. If you keep going like this, you’ll have to start chasing elementary school fillies.”
Fancy Pants chuckled as Shamal blushed brilliantly. “Relax Swan,” he smiled as Shamal opened her mouth, “The old nag is just having a bit of fun at my expense.”
“Oh.” Shamal frowned.
Proper Practice chuckled softly. “A bit sensitive, are we? Don’t worry, Fancy here gives as good as he gets. Now,” her expression quickly turned businesslike as she looked to Fancy, “where’s the patient, and what’s the situation?”
“Follow me.”
Shamal fell into step just behind Proper Practice as they walked, Fancy Pants giving the doctor an abbreviated version of Trixie’s condition. Shamal watched the medical mare closely; Proper Practice’s expression was carefully neutral as she nodded along.
“So, you’ve got a coma patient that’s just woke up. And she’s not in a hospital why exactly?”
“There were… extenuating circumstances.”
Proper Practice stopped, turning and giving Fancy a very level glare. She reached up and removed her glasses slowly before she spoke. “Fancy, is this another one of those cases? I thought you got out of that stuff when you-”
“No.” Fancy Pants replied firmly. “This isn’t.”
“So help me Fancy if you’re ly-”
“He’s not lying.” Shamal interrupted, stepping up beside the stallion and brushing him aside slightly. “I don’t know what you’re accusing him of, but he didn’t have anything to do with this. If you want to be mad at somepony, be mad at me, okay?”
Proper Practice met Shamal’s eyes without fear. “Is that so?”
“It is so.”
Proper Practice held her gaze, then sighed and glanced to Fancy. “What did you get dragged into this time?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I certainly bucking hope so,” Proper huffed as she pulled her glasses back on, then turned and resumed walking, her tail swishing irritably.
“What’s her problem?” Shamal whispered to Fancy as they began to follow.
“Our relationship is… complicated,” Fancy sighed. “I’ll explain later, but let’s just say that the two of us have been through a lot.” 
“This the room?” Proper paused, gesturing to one of the doors. The maid standing outside quickly came to attention as Fancy nodded to her.
“That it is. One moment.” Fancy reached over and knocked on the door. “Trixie? It’s me, Fancy Pants. I have a doctor here to see you. May we come in?”
“Enter,” came the voice from behind the door. Fancy pushed the door open, turning the knob with his magic as he did so. Shamal squinted slightly in the dim light as she followed the other two in.
“Trixie,” Fancy said, “This is Proper Practice. She’s going to give you a look over to see how you’re doing. Is that alright?”
“Mmmf.” Trixie looked at the doctor, then looked towards Shamal with a flat expression on her face. “That’s fine, but why is she here?”
Shamal lowered her head. “Um…I-I can leave-”
“Actually sweetie, I’ll need you to stay,” Proper interrupted as her horn lit up, a turquoise glow lighting the room as she opened the curtains. “If you were her caretaker, I’m going to have to ask you a few questions.”
“I don’t want her here.” Trixie growled.
“Tough,” Proper Practice replied, removing her saddle bags and flipping them open. A stethoscope floated out of one bag and slipped about her withers as she popped her neck. “Because I’m going to need to ask some questions. Plus, I need another pony to help move you around. Now Fancy-”
“I’ll leave you ladies to your work,” Fancy smiled and bowed his head. “I have business I have to attend to. Don’t worry, Proper Practice is an excellent physician. Until later, Swan.”
“Um… y-yes Fancy.”
“Don’t let the door smack you on the rump on your way out, mister blue-eyes.” Proper Practice smirked as Fancy chuckled, then stepped out and shut the door.
Shamal looked at the older unicorn. “Why’re you so mean to him?”
“Relax Swan, he knows I don’t mean anything by it. Do you have any medical training?”
“Um, some. I used to be a medic…”
“Medic huh? Military?” Proper hmmed as Shamal nodded. “Good. Now Trixie, I’m going to be doing a full examination of you. I need you to be straight with me. No horseapples, you got me?”
“Trixie will submit to this indignity if she must.” Trixie sniffed offendedly.
“Good to know. So, let’s take a look at you. I’m going to pull the sheet off.”
Trixie laid still as Proper Practice pulled the covering back. The older unicorn inhaled sharply as she saw Trixie’s hindquarters; her flanks were mangy and mostly denuded, the exposed flesh a mottled purple-black like a bruise. “By Celestia’s pearly horn, what in the name of Tartarus happened here?!”
“Um,” Shamal spoke up as Trixie opened her mouth, “maybe I should explain. M- Trixie was in a magic-related accident. I think the magic wounded her lower body… m-maybe some sort of energy run-off…”
“A magic accident? What sort of accident?” Proper Practice’s horn lit up as she summoned a pad of paper and a pencil.
“I’m not sure…”
“It happened in the Everfree Forest,” Trixie supplied smoothly, drawing Proper’s attention. “Trixie was passing through on her way to Canterlot when she was attacked by some sort of creature. She managed to chase it off, but her spell must have backfired on her.”
“Can you describe the creature?”
“Trixie did not see the creature. It was too dark to tell.”
“Mhmm.” Proper Practice frowned, scratching on her notepad. “And later you fell unconscious?”
“Yes. Once I got back to Canterlot.”
“Mhmm. And this was a month ago you say?”
Trixie nodded, causing Proper to turn back to Shamal. “Is she telling the truth?”
“Yes ma’am,” Shamal replied nervously.
“Right.”
Is she just going to… accept that? Shamal stared as Proper scratched her notes, flipping the page over. “Alright Trixie. Can you get up under your own power?”
“Nnngh.. Trixie will try.”
Shamal frowned as she watched Trixie roll over slowly, her reed-thin limbs trembling as she wobbled to her hooves. Her feet sank slightly into the mattress as she stood there, her limbs spread out to stabilize herself. 
“Okay. Don’t move. Swan, you get her hindquarters.”
“Yes ma’am.” Swan stepped closer, her horn lighting up with pale green light, her telekinesis wrapping around the area in question.
“On three, lift. One, two, three!”
There was a soft humming as the two lifted Trixie from the bed, the thin mare hovering slowly through the air before they lowered her onto the ground. Proper nodded, releasing Trixie’s front. “Good job. Keep an eye on her while I do my exam. If she looks like she’s about to fall-”
“I’ll tell you and keep her upright.”
Proper Practice nodded in satisfaction before circling Trixie. “Do you feel any pain anywhere, Miss Trixie?”
“No…”
“Alright. Lift your front right hoof.”
Shamal kept watch as the doctor ordered Trixie around, her hooves gently pressing against Trixie’s limbs as her horn scribbled notes. Trixie, to her credit, didn’t seem inclined to snap at the doctor as she was poked and prodded. She didn’t twitch as the doctor pressed against her bruise-colored flanks, quietly answering her questions as she did so. 
“Hmm… muscles have atrophied to a moderate degree from disuse, but not excessively so.“ Proper hovered her stethoscope to her lips and breathed on it. “Nice deep breaths please.”
Trixie winced slightly as Proper Practice put the stethoscope against her ribs and listened to her breathing. “Cold…”
“Breathing is normal. Pulse,” Proper pressed a hoof underneath Trixie’s left front limb, just behind the elbow, then closed her eyes as her ears folded back, her other hoof tapping slowly, “is forty two beats per minute. A little higher than I‘d like, but acceptable given your condition. Eyes,” she leaned in and peered into Trixie’s eyes, her horn lighting up and shining a light into them, “ are clear and dilating normally. Please follow the light with your eyes alone if possible.”
“Trixie will, if you refrain from blinding her again,” the blue unicorn snorted, but did as instructed.
“Good. No hesitation or ocular stutter. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue, please.”
“Bleh!” Trixie opened her mouth, only to gargle as a tongue depressor slid in and pressed against her tongue.
“Gums are pinkish but slightly retracted.” Proper noted, then pressed her tongue depressor against one of her gums and removed it. “Capillary refill is normal. What did you feed her while she was unconscious?”
“Um,” Shamal rubbed her mane, “mostly fluids… soups, broth, milk, things like that… nothing solid.”
“Mmf. Smart.” Proper removed the tongue depressor and held it up before Trixie. “Miss Trixie, if you could please use your magic and levitate this tongue depressor?”
“Why?” Trixie frowned as the mare slipped a piece of headgear over her head; it looked like a cross between a microscope and a jeweler’s loop.
“I need to inspect your horn to see if there’s any fissures or cracks in it. So, lift the tongue depressor.”
Trixie’s face went from neutral to morose. She glanced away and mumbled something.
“Excuse me?”
“I… I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?”
“I mean I can’t lift the stupid thing, alright?!” Trixie’s voice came out in a snarl before she looked at the floor. “I… I can’t use my magic anymore.”
Proper Practice looked at her sadly, then reached over and touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear that. Hold still, please…”
“What are you going to do?” Trixie blinked as Proper leaned in and touched her horn to Trixie’s, a faint glow transferring from the older mare’s horn to hers.
“There. Basic illumination spell. Now, hold your head still.” Proper grasped Trixie’s head gently in one hoof and leaned in, turning her head back and forth slightly. Her observable eye shut tight as the apparatus on her other eye glowed and clicked as she manipulated it with her magic. “Swan, take down the following on my note pad.”
“Oh! S-sure.” Shamal hovered the notepad over and held the pencil at the ready. “Ready.”
“No obstructions in the U1 through U3 venal or arterial ducts. There are microfractures along U2 to U3 lattice and striae unicornae, likely caused by significant magical stress. Switching to second lens.” There was a soft click as the device switched lenses. “No apparent damage to the nerve, though there are some odd black streaks in the myelination. Possible scarring, but due to a lack of equipment, I can’t tell. Negative energy reaction, indicating possible loss of magic. Got all that?”
“Yes ma’am.” Shamal hovered the notepad over so the elder unicorn could look.
“Your notes are a lot nicer than mine. Alright.” Proper inhaled and looked Trixie over again. “As far as I can tell, you’re in surprisingly good shape for somepony who’s been in a coma outside of a hospital for more than a month.”
“Trixie is overjoyed,” Trixie deadpanned.
“I’m serious. The simple fact that you’re able to stand mostly unassisted is testament to that.”
“Um… that’s because,” Shamal blushed as both sets of eyes turned to her, “I used my healing spells on her…”
“Your healing spells?” Proper Practice blinked, then smirked as she nodded. “Color me impressed then. You actually managed to slow down the natural atrophy of her muscles with nothing more than magic. I assume you’ve also been keeping her clean and fed?”
“Y-yes ma’am.”
“Well, if you’re ever looking for a job, I’ll give you a hoof.” Proper looked over at Trixie, who had hung her head. “You’re lucky to have somepony like her around.”
Trixie didn’t respond.
“Alright. Well, there’s nothing I can do about the magic issue. That’s not my area of expertise. I’m still not sure about your flank, but you don’t seem to be in any pain and there’s no necrosis or damage aside from the skin discoloration. As for the rest, you’ll need a basic rehab regimen to help get your strength back.” Proper turned back to Shamal, plucking the pad from her grip and flipping it shut with a single, practiced motion. “Keep her on soft foods and liquids for a while. After a week or two, try getting her back onto solid foods. Make sure she exercises daily; walking would be fine, but I bet Fancy would let you use his pool if you asked nicely. If she starts to relapse, you get her to a proper hospital, understand?”
“Y-yes ma’am…”
“Good. Now, I’ve got to go talk to Fancy for a few minutes about something, but I’ll be back in a little while. Keep an eye on her until I get back.”
Without another word, Proper turned and trotted out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind her as she left.
An awkward silence descended on the room as Shamal stood there, trying not to look at Trixie. Trixie was doing much the same, seeming intent on not looking at Shamal as she balanced on her weak legs.
Should I speak first? Shamal glanced at Trixie out of the corner of her eye. She might still be upset with me… Oh no… what if she IS still mad at me and she finds out about me and Fancy Pants? What will I do? She’s my Mistress…
“Shamal?”
Shamal squeaked loudly, jolting slightly as Trixie addressed her. “Y-yes, Mistress?”
Trixie frowned at her, then sighed softly and shuffled her hooves. “Trixie… believes she owes you an apology for last night.”
“A-an apology?” Shamal blinked, then shook her head. “No, Mistress. You were right to get angry… we-”
“Shamal, hush.”
Shamal’s mouth shut with a click as Trixie exhaled slowly. “You’re right. Trixie was… upset with what you and the others did. But Trixie shouldn’t have been. You and the others were doing this to help Trixie. To see if she’d get better. Right?”
Shamal nodded.
“That’s why Trixie feels she must apologize.” The blue unicorn took a wobbly step towards Shamal, only to stumble. Shamal quickly stepped closer, catching Trixie with one hoof.
“C-careful Mistress… you’re still weak.”
“See… this is why Trixie needs to apologize.” Trixie smiled wanly. “Trixie, though she may be great and powerful, is hardly the most… cautious unicorn. If Trixie… if I hadn’t been such a fool, then we wouldn’t be in this mess, would we?”
“But-”
‘No buts.” Trixie interrupted. “Now, would you mind helping me over to the bed? I’d like to sit down…”
Shamal nodded, moving in and pressing against Trixie. “Lean on me, Mistress.”
“Ugh… I feel like an old mare,” Trixie huffed as she did so. “Though I don’t mind being waited on horn and hoof, this is a bit much.”
“It’s only until you get better, Mistress.” Shamal smiled, helping Trixie onto the bed.
Trixie sighed, shifting a little on the sheets before she looked at Shamal. “You know… I really wonder what I did to deserve a friend like you, Shamal.”
Shamal blushed. “Mistress, you’ve done more than enough to gain our loyalty…”
“I’ll take your word on that. I just hate feeling like a burden. I mean, come on, you four spent… however long I’ve been asleep caring for me; feeding me, washing me, making sure I was okay…” Trixie shook her head. “Trixie does not know how she could repay you…”
“I… can’t speak for the others, Mistress,” Shamal took a seat before her Mistress, looking her in the eye, “but I don’t need you to repay me. You are our Mistress. That’s enough.”
Trixie blushed and looked away. “Right… um… yeah…”
“S-sorry. Did that sound too embarrassing?” Shamal flushed and shook her head. “I-I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s okay! Trixie, ever-magnanimous, will forgive you. Now,” Trixie smiled mischievously. “what about you and Fancy Pants?”
Shamal felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. Her mouth went dry. “Y-y-you knew?!”
“Mhmm…”
Shamal groveled onto the ground, pressing her nose into the carpet. “I’m so sorry Mistress! I-it just sort of happened. Please don’t be upset with me.”
“Upset? Why would I be upset?”
Shamal looked up. Trixie certainly looked confused. “I…um… well… I thought you would… disapprove. He is your patron…”
“Well…” Trixie clicked her tongue, glancing away from Shamal. “Trixie must admit, he is a handsome stallion. However, he‘s simply not Trixie’s type. His mustache is a deal breaker…”
Shamal bristled slightly. “With all due respect Mistress, I think his mustache is perfectly…” She paused as Trixie grinned. “O-oh… you were…”
“Wow… you really do love him, don’t you?” Trixie’s grin faded into a smile. “I’m happy for you, Shamal. Really, I am.”
“Y-you are?” Shamal slowly got up from the ground.
“Why wouldn’t I be? So, when’s the wedding? I’m going to insist on getting an invitation.”
“Mistress!” Shamal’s cheeks flushed brilliant red as Trixie giggled.

---

“Okay Fancy, I want an explanation. Now.”
Fancy sighed, removing a snifter from the small cupboard he kept in his study, followed by uncorking a small decanter of brandy he kept handy for situations just like this. Fancy did love Proper Practice as a friend, but the last thing he wanted was to face the doctor’s stern glare unfortified. “It’d be difficult for me to explain something if you don’t tell me what it is I’m supposed to explain, Proper Practice,” he noted dryly, tipping the bottle and pouring the caramel-colored spirit into the glass. “Brandy?”
“I don’t drink anymore, remember?” Proper circled around to face him, her eyes narrow. “I want to know what happened to Trixie.”
“They didn’t explain the situation?”
“They did, but I don’t buy it. I know when I’m being sold horseapples Fancy. Unless Trixie’s some sort of Princess-blessed prodigy, there’s no sort of magical misfire that can make a cutie mark disappear. Now, what’s going on?”
Fancy swirled the contents of his glass, then took a drink. “It’s complicated.”
Proper grimaced at him. “Of course it is. But are we talking ‘new you’ complicated or ‘old you’ complicated?”
“Old complicated.”
“Ugh!” Proper Practice face-hoofed and groaned loudly. “Fancy, you promised me you were done.”
“I am. I retired, remember?” Fancy set his glass aside as he walked over to the desk in his study. “I’m not in the service anymore. Not after that business with the Griffon ambassador nearly cost me an eye.”
“And here you are, getting mixed up in another mess...”
“I can assure you, Proper, this is most certainly not official business.” Fancy huffed irritably, running a hoof along his mustache. “This is different. Now, how did the examination go?”
“Trixie’s fine. Well, about as fine as a slightly malnourished coma patient can be.” Proper pushed her glasses back on her muzzle and frowned at Fancy. “Aside from the fact that she doesn’t have a cutie mark and can’t do magic, according to her. So, what caused this?”
“You think I know?” Fancy sighed as Proper leveled a glare at him, hovering the glass to his lips before quaffing the brandy. “Fine. Yes, I do know. I’m just not sure I can say…”
“It’s got something to do with Swan, doesn’t it?”
Fancy did his best to keep his irritation from showing as Proper snorted. “You always get tight-lipped when it’s personal, Fancy.”
“Yes, it has something to do with Swan…”
“Thought so.” Proper sighed. “Look, Fancy, I hate to tell you, but I have to report this.”
“Report?” Fancy set the snifter down with a click, his eyes leveled at the doctor. “Report to who?”
“The crown sent out an order to every hospital and doctor’s office in Equestria. If any pony showed up missing a cutie mark, they were to inform Canterlot immediately…”
“Ah…”
“I have to report it, Fancy.” Proper Practice removed her glasses and looked him square in the eye. “You know what happens if somepony ignores a royal order. At best, I‘d lose my license. At worst…”
Fancy sighed and nodded. “I understand. I’m not going to ask you to compromise that much for me. Just let me talk to them about it first, alright? We can work something out…”
“Fine. I need to talk to them again anyway.”
Fancy Pants hovered the bottle of brandy over and poured himself a little more to drink. “Are you sure I couldn’t interest you in a little brandy?”
“I’m sure.” Proper shook her head. “You know, thirty years ago when I was still in Manehattan, I would’ve never guessed that the skinny-legged little squirt of a colt I was stitching up would end up a big-wig in Canterlot.”
“You can thank the Princess and Noveau Riche for that, may he rest in peace.” Fancy Pants looked at his reflection in the spirit that filled his glass, then turned back to Proper. “Don’t mention my history to Swan. I should be the one to tell her…”
“Hey, your secret’s safe with me. I just hope she understands. Why don’t you finish your drink so we can go talk to them?”
“Of course,” Fancy replied as he sipped his brandy.
I hope she does understand. After all, I know her secret. It’s hardly fair for me to keep mine from her. But then again, once a Kingmaker, always a Kingmaker…
He grimaced, then swallowed the contents of his glass, letting it burn all the way down to his stomach.

---

”You want to put me in the hospital?”
Trixie frowned slightly as she glanced between Fancy Pants and Proper Practice. Shamal was seated beside her, her soft weight a bit comforting thanks to her proximity.
“Yes,” Proper Practice replied. “As a medical professional, I think it would be better for you to be in a hospital than here in Fancy Pants’ house. Frankly, you should have been there at the start, but that’s then, this is now.”
“Trixie has been doing perfectly fine-”
“Trixie,” Proper replied snippily, “has been in a coma for more than a month from the sound of it. Frankly, I don’t know what’s wrong with your insides or if there‘s any underlying cause for your condition, because I don’t have the equipment to tell. If you were in a hospital, then we could give you better treatment and hopefully get you back on your hooves.”
Trixie growled softly, then glanced to Fancy Pants. “You agree with her?”
“I do. I think it’s best for all involved that you stay at the hospital. If you were to relapse, then at least there you’d be in good hooves… no offense intended, Swan.”
Shamal glanced away as Trixie huffed. “I don’t get a say in this, do I?”
“If I was in charge, no,” Proper replied. “However, Fancy here wants your input. Whatever you choose, however, I’m going to have to report what happened to you to the palace.”
“You what?!”
“Apparently, Princess Celestia issued a royal order requiring doctors to report any ponies with missing cutie marks to the palace,” Fancy Pants answered.
Trixie felt Shamal go stiff beside her. She slipped a hoof over to Shamal, resting a hoof on hers and drawing a worried glance from Shamal.
Fancy Pants seemed to notice this as well. “Proper, would you mind waiting outside for a minute? This has to be private.”
“If you say so.” Proper shrugged, then turned and took her leave.
Shamal slowly slid off the bed as Proper left. “Fancy, we can’t take Trixie to the hospital. If they find out about…”
“Swan,” Fancy replied soothingly, “please, calm down…”
“No!” Shamal whimpered. “I’m not going to calm down. If we take Trixie to the hospital, and if they find out, then they might take Trixie away. She’s the Mistress of the Book Fancy. They’ll find out and… and…”
“They?” Trixie interrupted, a bit confused. “Who’s they?”
“The Bureau…”
Trixie blinked, then looked to the two of them. “Um, Trixie has been a bit out of the loop for obvious reasons. Somepony mind filling her in?”
“I believe Shamal’s referring to the humans. They’re a race from outside of Equestria that are currently in diplomatic talks with the government,” Fancy supplied. “It’s all been rather hush-hush, though. All I’ve heard are rumors, most of which are probably a bit over-exaggerated.”
“Humans? You mean like…” Trixie looked over at Shamal, who nodded.
“They… don’t really like us, Mistress,” Shamal murmured quietly. “The reasons should be obvious.”
“Oh…”
“And it’s not just them. It’s the Princess too…”
“The Princess?” Trixie blinked. “You mean Princess Celestia?”
Shamal squeaked, a hoof popping into her mouth.
Trixie’s eyes narrowed. “Shamal… why are you afraid of Princess Celestia?”
“Mmmmf…”
“Oh for the love of… answer me Shamal!”
Shamal slowly removed the hoof from her mouth and swallowed. “W-we… we might have… angered her. By attacking somepony.”
“You did mention something about that last night. Who did you attack?”
Shamal didn’t answer, choosing instead to slowly slip behind Fancy Pants. 
Trixie took a very long, very deep breath, then let it out. Then she took a second one. She just needed to stay calm. “Shamal… I’m not going to be mad at you. I promise.”
“Promise?”
“Trixie does not break her promises.” Trixie sniffed. “Now, tell me the truth.”
“We…” Shamal whimpered, “attacked Twilight Sparkle.”
Trixie felt her eye twitch. “Trixie isn’t sure she heard you properly. Did you just say you attacked Twilight Sparkle?”
“Y-yes Mistress.”
The twitch became more pronounced. “Unicorn? Purple coat? Annoying voice? Pink and white sparkle cutie mark?”
“Y-yes.”
“Lives in a town called Ponyville?”
“I-I think so? Um… Mistress, your eye is…”
Trixie inhaled deeply, then raised a hoof as she closed her eyes. “One moment, please.” She then shuffled over to the head of the bed, took hold of one of the pillows with her hooves, then slammed her face into it and began screaming into the fluffiness.
A solid minute later, Trixie lifted her head from the pillow. She turned to stare at the non-plussed Fancy Pants and the still-cowering Shamal. She huffed, blowing a few stray strands of her mane out of her face. “Okay,” she said in a slightly trembling voice, “Trixie feels better now.”
“Maybe we should wait a bit longer before we continue this discussion,” Fancy Pants suggested, an eyebrow quirked at Trixie. “Maybe give you a little while to calm down?”
“Trixie is calm,” she replied, her tone snippy. “Trixie is just… irritated that her rival met such an ignoble end when she should have been the one to-”
“Actually,” Shamal peeked from around Fancy, “Twilight’s fine now… as far as I know, at least. So…”
“Well, at least there’s that,” Trixie couldn’t help but grumble.
“We still need to decide what exactly we’re going to do about this, however.” Fancy Pants replied, adjusting his monocle. “This doesn’t change the facts. However, we can choose how to present it…”
Fancy turned to glance at the door as he heard a knock. With a heavy sigh, he walked around Shamal and opened it a hair. “Yes?”
“Is everything alright in there? I thought I heard shouting.”
“Yes. Just Trixie getting out some of her frustrations Proper. Nothing more.”
“Can I come back in yet?”
“Not yet. Why don’t you go downstairs. I’d imagine the cooks have prepared lunch by now. Please, help yourself.”
Trixie heard Proper grumble loudly before Fancy shut the door with a heavy sigh. “Now, as I was saying, we can determine what they learn. Unless there’s something to suggest otherwise, Trixie will just be another case. She’ll be a victim to them, not a villain.”
Trixie frowned. “I’m not sure I like that idea… It wasn’t my assistants that did this to me. It was the Book.”
“Mistress, if we take the bla-”
“No.” Trixie glared at Shamal, then shook her head. “I’m not going to demonize you. I wouldn’t do that to you…”
“Would you prefer to come clean then?” Fancy tilted his head slightly. “That would be the most reasonable thing to do, I think…”
“Fancy!” Shamal gasped.
“No… he’s right Shamal.”
“But…but Mistress…”
Trixie sighed, glancing over towards the Book of Darkness. “Look Shamal… I don’t like the idea either, but maybe it’d be better if we asked for some help. Maybe the Princesses can help. Maybe these Bureau people can help. I don’t know…”
But anything is better than going back to sleep, Trixie finished mentally, doing her best not to shudder at the thought.
Shamal bit her lip, causing Trixie to sigh. She shifted a little on her bed, giving the Knight of the Lake a broad smile. “But I can promise you this, Shamal; if anypony tries to do anything to you or my other assistants, they’ll have to answer to me, the Great and Powerful Trixie, got it? Is Trixie not the greatest and most powerful unicorn in all of Equestria?”
Shamal returned the smile weakly. “She is…”
“Is Trixie not the most amazing and spectacular magician to ever live?”
“She is…”
“Is Trixie not…” her sentence was broken as she yawned, a hoof rubbing her eyes. “Sorry… Trixie might be a little more tired than she expected.”
“Are… are you alright, Mistress?” Shamal trotted over to the bed and touched a hoof to her cheek. “You’re not going to relapse, are you?”
“No… this doesn’t feel like before…” Trixie lowered her head and folded her ears. “This is just normal sleepiness, I think. Trixie was up all night…”
You are correct, a familiar voice whispered mentally, I am not drawing you into the Dream again.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure Shamal. Let’s continue this conversation… later. Just let me… get a little beauty sleep, okay?”
“O-okay… I’ll be nearby, just in case you need anything, Mistress.”
Trixie nodded, then glanced at Fancy. “Ask the Doctor if she doesn’t mind waiting until tomorrow to send her report. I’d like… to get my story straight before I have to face the music.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Fancy replied.

---

“So… this is it?”
Fancy quirked an eyebrow at Swan as he sipped his tea. Proper Practice had already left, promising to return the next day to check in on Trixie. He and Swan, meanwhile, had sat down for a late lunch.
Swan, however, didn’t seem interested in her food, slowly pushing the pile of delicate pasta about the plate with her fork.
“Is what it?”
“This.” Swan looked up at Fancy nervously, letting the fork plop onto her plate with a sigh. “We go and talk to the Princesses… and then whatever happens… that’s it. The end.”
Fancy frowned. “You make it sound like you’re facing an execution Swan.”
“I’m sorry… it’s just that all of my instincts are screaming that this is a bad idea. I don’t want to put Trixie in any more harm than she’s already been through.” Swan shivered and looked up at him with fear in her eyes. “Fancy, I’m scared. What if something happens? What if something terrible happens?”
Fancy set his own fork down and circled around the table to her side. His hooves pressed gently against hers as he turned her to face him.
“Swan, I can promise you this,” Fancy said seriously. “You have nothing to fear from the Princesses. I swear it on my good name. As for anyone else… they’ll have to get through me first.”
“Through you? That‘s kind of you, but…”
Fancy smirked slightly, his eyes narrowing, “I’m hardly a defenseless colt, my sweet Swan Lake. You’re not the only pony with secrets.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow, Fancy. What sort of secrets…”
“To begin with, my name wasn’t always Fancy Pants. When I was really young, before I discovered my special talent, I was called Little Potsy.”
“You? Little?” Swan giggled softly.
“Little and skinny,” Fancy shook his head. “I grew up in Manehattan. Not the nice part either. Mom died foaling me, and my dad didn’t exactly have much of an interest in me, so I got stuck in a little place called ‘Hope House.’ The ponies back then tried their best, but not every little colt and filly got a lot of attention, and money was always a bit tight. I fell in with a rough crowd; a bunch of older colts that were involved in some nasty business. But they were nice to me, and they always had these cute mares around and let me do things for them, so I figured they were my friends. Turned out however, they were bad news…”
“What happened?”
“Well,” Fancy frowned at the memory, “things didn’t turn out very well. They managed to aggravate some ponies they should never have aggravated. That’s when we got a visit from them one winter‘s night. They had a griffon with them, a big old buzzard named Argos… It didn’t turn out well.”
Fancy guided Shamal’s hoof over to his belly. He watched her eyes go wide as her hoof landed on a very long scar that ran up the middle of his body. “Is that…”
“Mhmm… I hide it well. Most ponies don’t even notice it. But that’s what I got for trying to stand up to a griffon. The older colts ran off, and I was just laying there when somepony scooped me up and took me to the hospital. That’s where I met Proper Practice, by the way. She was fresh out of her internship when she stitched me up.”
“When I woke up, I met the pony who saved me; his name was Noveau Riche. He asked me a few questions, then dropped a bag at my little hooves and told me to go home. When he left, I looked in the bag.” Fancy chuckled and shook his head. “It was full of bits. I’d never seen so much money in my life. And you know what I did with it?”
“What?”
“I took it back to Hope House. I could have done a lot of things with that money, but it didn’t feel right to just keep it for myself. The next day, Noveau Riche stopped by the orphanage and adopted me. He said I was the kind of colt he was looking for.”
“What does this have to do with…?”
“Noveau Riche was a Kingmaker,” Fancy replied. “And he was looking for somepony to succeed him. You see, there are some ponies who have power, but don’t deserve to wield it. And there are some ponies who deserve better than their lot in life, but never get a chance. The duty of a Kingmaker is to quietly correct that imbalance; to make kings of paupers and paupers of kings, in the name of the Crown and Harmony.”
Swan’s eyes went wide. “You’re a knight…”
“Hardly. I don’t wear a shiny suit of armor or carry a sword. I do, however, have a very particular set of skills.” Fancy smirked dangerously as he held one of Shamal’s hooves. “I may be a bit rusty, but don’t think that I won’t do my best to protect you.”
Swan blushed, then met Fancy’s eyes. “W-why are you telling me this?”
“Because you deserve to know. Because I trust you. Because you’re not the only one whose life was changed by somepony’s kindness. And most of all, I want you to trust me. A secret for a secret, after all.” Fancy‘s horn lit up as he removed his monocle, his bad eye adjusting a little to compensate. “I may be retired, but I still have pull. Princess Celestia will listen to what I have to say if I have to advocate for you…”
“Fancy… I don’t know what to say…”
“Then don’t say anything… Shamal.”
Shamal blushed and slowly leaned in towards him, lips pursed…
“Ahem.”
Blast it… Fancy looked over towards Pennyworth. “Yes, Pennyworth?”
“A Mr. Flax Seed and a Mrs. Wheat Grass here to see you, sir. They say that Hoity Toity suggested that they speak with you about an investment?”
“Ah. Very well…”
“If you would like to continue your business here, sir, I could have them wait in the study.” Pennyworth’s expression was completely neutral.
“N-no… I-it’s okay” Shamal blushed, pulling back. “I-I really should check in on Trixie once I finish eating.”
“Take your time.” Fancy replaced his monocle and straightened his mustache slightly. “We’ll talk later, if you like…”

---

Trixie was running through a ruined castle. Her hooves crunched on broken stained glass as she scrambled over rocks and fallen debris, her mane and tail whipping behind her as she ran.
She didn’t know who or what she was running from. All she knew was that if she stopped, it would get her. It would swallow her whole, and nopony would ever see her again.
Her breath came out loud and heavy as she ran, ruined carpet and cratered tile underhoof as she looked for a way out. She turned each corner at speed, her hooves scrambling for traction as she skidded, trying to dodge around huge boulders of white stone and fallen columns.
She ran and ran, until she came across a pair of tall doors, flanked by tattered curtains. In desperation, she pushed through.
She slid to a halt, coming to a stop at the edge of a half-circular balcony. Below her, a great city was in ruins, an expanse of fire and death. Black smoke filled the air, and the sky was covered from horizon to horizon with billowing, roiling storm clouds flashing with dark lightning. Pillars of flame and jagged spikes of stone jutted up from the ground like claws, and the wind roared hot and filled with embers.
As Trixie gasped for air, something rose from below. Four long pillars of purple light slid upwards, ending in the heads of snakes. Four sets of red eyes glowed malevolently, and forked tongues of crimson fire flickered between fangs that gleamed like rubies.
ES IST FAST ZEIT, HERR MEISTER, the serpents spoke, their singular voice feminine and sibilant.
Trixie stared up at the monster. She had heard that voice before.
She screamed, and the world went dark.

---

Trixie’s eyes snapped open as she jerked awake, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her heart hammered in her chest. The sheets were sticking tight to her body from her sweat.
Her limbs kicked weakly as she slowly peeled the sheets off her body. Her head pounded as she groaned, her hooves going to her temples as she rolled onto her back.
That dream… that voice… I’ve heard it before… Her eyes moved over towards the Book of Darkness, then inhaled. “Can you hear me?”
Yes. The voice responded softly.
“That thing in my dream… it spoke to me… What in the name of Celestia was that thing?!”
It is Der Nachtwal…
Trixie facehoofed. “That means precisely nothing to me. Can you please translate into Equestrian?”
Der Nachtwal is my curse. My chains. My prison. My jailer. It is the spirit of destruction within my body. If it is stirring, then…
“Then? Then what?” Trixie growled, slowly scooting over to the bedside table, her hooves scraping over the cover of the Book as she pulled it over to the bed. “Give me an answer! Don’t just trail off suspiciously like that!”
Then all may be lost…
Trixie’s blood ran cold. “W-what do you mean, ‘all may be lost?’”
Nachtwal cannot be stopped. It…
“It what? Don’t do that stupid trailing off thing ag-”
It is listening to us! The voice sounded terrified. I cannot speak any further!
“What? Hey!” Trixie growled, tapping a hoof on the book’s cover. “I’m talking to you! Trixie demands an explanation! Are you listening?!”
“Um… Mistress?”
Trixie looked up with a start at Shamal. The pale green unicorn was staring at her in confusion. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m talking to this stupid book!”
“The Book of Darkness is speaking to you?!” Shamal quickly ran to the bedside. “What is it saying? Is it-”
“It’s being stupidly cryptic, that’s what it’s doing,” Trixie groused, pushing the book away slightly.
“Mistress, are you alright? You’re drenched with sweat…” Shamal reached up and touched her side. “And your heart is racing…”
“Trixie is fine. She just had a bad dream…” She paused, then looked levelly at Shamal. “Shamal… does the name ‘Nachtwal’ mean anything to you?”
“Nachtwal?” Shamal blinked. “Um… no, not really. It sounds Belkan, but it‘s not familiar to me… why?”
“The book said something about it stirring and all being lost… but that’s about all I could get from it.”
“It might be a part of the Book’s systems then… some sort of program or such.”
“You don’t know either?” Trixie sighed.
“I’m sorry Mistress. Neither I nor any of the other Wolkenritter have any real knowledge about the Book’s inner workings.” Shamal ducked her head slightly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. It’s something we’ll worry about later.” Trixie ran her hooves through her mane, then let out a disgusted grunt. “Ugh… Trixie could do with a bath. She feels filthy…”
“W-would you like me to take you to the bathroom?”
Trixie hmmfed, then nodded. “Just help me along so I don’t fall over, alright?”
Shamal nodded, carefully helping Trixie from the bed. As she climbed down, Trixie shot a glare towards the shut Book of Darkness still laying amidst the tangled sheets.
Whatever that thing was, Trixie thought to herself, I know it had something to do with what happened to me…

---

Evening rolled over Canterlot like a rising tide; slowly, quietly and with little fanfare. A fact that several ponies were quite grateful for, particularly those that had taken up residence in Fancy’s manor house.
The appointments of the day had been handled, letters had been sent out, and dinner had been prepared and consumed. There were no further distractions, a fact Fancy Pants was thankful for. The study was comfortably warm as he poured himself a bit of brandy into a clean snifter, swirling it gently as he walked over to the couch that  both Trixie and Shamal were resting on.
“Comfortable, Trixie?” He smiled, taking a seat on the chair in front of them, the brandy hovering beside him.
“I suppose so,” Trixie replied. Shamal, once more wearing her human guise, was gently running her fingers through the blue unicorn’s mane, tugging gently on a few knots before picking up a brush. “So, I guess we should get started then.”
“If you feel up to it.”
“Are you sure we won’t be bothered, Fancy?” Shamal glanced over at the doors.
“Positive. I’ve asked the staff to stay clear of the study until we’re done. If they don’t, they’ll have to deal with Pennyworth. And that’s probably the last thing they’ll want to do.” Fancy smiled, taking a sip of his brandy. “I’m just surprised you wanted to do this down here in the study, Trixie.”
“Trixie is getting very, very tired of bedrooms, Fancy,” the blue unicorn huffed, resting her chin on her folded front limbs as her tail flicked. Her ear flicked as Shamal gently ran her fingers over her spine, eliciting a soft murmur of pleasure.
“Very well. Now, let’s start from the beginning, why don’t we?” Fancy set the snifter of brandy on the small table beside him and steepled his hooves together. “How did you first come across the Book of Darkness?”
“Well…” Trixie sat up, “it began on a night, long ago…”

---

“Thirty six, thirty seven, thirty eight…”
Trixie glowered down at the small bag of bits that sat before her. The early summer night was warm and the sky was clear, so Trixie didn’t mind spending the night outside. She at least had her cloak and hat and a small bag of money that she had salvaged from the disposed-of wreckage of her wagon. She had had to browbeat the junkyard pony even for that much; everything else was a loss, either crushed by the merciless foot of the Ursa Minor, or broken by the clumsy trip to the junkyard.
“Forty bits left.” Trixie grimaced as she scooped the gold coins into the bag. “Terrific. There’s no way I’ll be able to afford a new wagon with just forty bits, much less replace everything else that was lost.”
Trixie rose to her feet and raised a hoof up at the sky. “By Celestia, Twilight Sparkle will pay for this! Twilight and all her foalish little pony friends! Do you hear me!? Trixie will have her revenge! Trixie will prove that she is the greatest and most powerful unicorn in all of Equestria!”
The only sound that answered her declaration was the noise of chirping crickets.
Trixie held the pose for a minute or two, then sunk down onto the grass and rolled onto her back with a groan. “Oh who is Trixie kidding? Trixie would have a better chance of catching a shooting star with her bare hooves… though that would make for an interesting story.”
As Trixie looked up at the sky, she blinked as she saw a streak of light. Followed by another. And another. She slowly rolled to a seated position as she saw more lights flash across the sky, each one leaving behind a sparkling trail in it’s wake.
“Oh my…” Trixie didn’t consider herself easy to impress, but even she could appreciate something like a meteor shower.
“Well, I suppose being out in the elements does have some benefits,” Trixie said to nopony in particular as she watched the light show above. “It’s quite an impressive show, if nothing else…”
And then, Trixie blinked as she noticed another streak of light, one that seemed to be taking a different course than the others. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she raised a hoof and shielded her eyes. “What in Equestria…?”
The light grew bigger and brighter… until Trixie realized that it was flying in her direction.
There was a loud whoosh and a roar of wind as the light streaked overhead. Trixie dove to the ground, covering her head as her high-pointed hat flew off her head, her mane, tail and cape being violently ruffled. As the roar subsided, Trixie blinked and looked upwards, watching the trail glitter overhead before she heard a low booming noise, like a roll of thunder.
The trail lead over a few hills, towards a nearby wooded area.
“Trixie seriously did not mean it when she said…” She muttered as she shook herself off, then froze. Her eyes went wide and a grin split her lips as realization set in. The Great and Powerful Trixie, the only pony who had caught a shooting star… that was a ticket-seller if she’d ever heard one! With a quick flash of telekinesis, she smashed her hat back onto the top of her head, gathered up her bag of bits, then raced towards her target.
Trixie, being a wandering showpony, was hardly out of breath when she reached her destination. She approached slowly, picking her way over a few fallen trees as she smelt the stink of scorched wood and earth. It didn’t take long to find the crash site; it was nearly perfectly circular, a shallow crater of rock and glassy sand, with a still slightly glowing object in the center.
Trixie looked up to the sky and mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ to the Princess of the Night before approaching the crater. Oddly, there was no sense of incredible heat or smoke or anything else. It was no hotter than, say, standing next to an oven while baking. Shielding her eyes, Trixie’s horn lit up with a familiar lavender-ish light. An aura of the same color formed around the object as it hovered up into the air.
Trixie grinned expectantly. “Come to Trixie, you magnificent…”
The object floated closer, steam wafting from it as its glow began to fade.
“…little…”
The glow faded fully, and Trixie stopped and stared.
“…book?!”
It was, indeed, a book. A sizable book, with a brown cover with a large, pointed-tipped golden cross and circle. Silver chains wrapped about it, linked together to seal it shut. However, it was still a book.
Trixie was at first, unimpressed.
“A book? A book?! Trixie was hoping for a shooting star, not a BOOK! Does the universe seek to mock Trixie?! Argh!” Trixie glared at the tome, then slowly turned it around and around. “Though Trixie is confused… books do not normally fall from the sky… nor are they covered in chains. What sort of thing are you?”
The book did not seem inclined to reply to Trixie‘s question.
“Hmph… well, if nothing else, Trixie will display you once she’s back on her hooves properly. Or maybe sell you to some curiosity shop for a few bits to ward off starvation.” Trixie harrumphed, floating the book over and shoving it into the same bag with her bits.
Meanwhile, high above, the meteor shower continued.

---

“Ah, yes, I remember the centennial meteor shower. That was more than a year ago…” Fancy Pants hmmed, taking a sip of his brandy. “I’m surprised that you didn’t try to pawn the book, though.”
“I considered it a few times,” Trixie replied. “However, you’d be surprised how stingy shopkeepers can be. Not to mention a lot of ponies simply didn’t believe me when I told them the thing fell from the sky. It didn’t help that I couldn’t tell what was inside it. The chains it was wrapped in were all but indestructible. Believe me, I tried everything I could think of to break them: fire, magic, pliers, everything.”
“After a while, however, I just kept it around because it was mine.” Trixie shook her head. “I mean… I found it. It crashed near where I was. There had to be some reason for that, right?”
“But moving on!” Trixie cleared her throat and resumed. “After a while, Trixie managed to scrounge up enough money to pay for a new wagon. By that time, however, word had gotten out about Trixie’s… spectacular failure of a show in Ponyville. Trixie ended up being laughed out of every town she tried to perform in, even after she dropped the Ursa Major story. And without an audience, money became short.” Trixie buried her face into the couch. “So Trixie was forced to undertake desperate measures just to stay alive.”
“Desperate measures?” Fancy quirked an eyebrow as Trixie nodded and looked up at him.
“Trixie had to work at a rock farm. You don’t understand how grueling work like that can be, especially for a unicorn like Trixie. Breaking rocks, moving rocks, stacking rocks, moving more rocks, digging up rocks… day in and day out, dawn to dusk… Does Trixie look like a common laborer to you?”
Fancy didn’t reply, only quirking an eyebrow and giving the mare a slightly irritated look.
“Um…forget that last bit. I’m sorry.” Trixie coughed nervously, then sat up properly. “At any rate, it was after a particularly tiring day that… the event occurred.”
“The event?”
“Yes!” Trixie swept a hoof through the air. “The event that would change the course of Trixie’s life… forever!”

---

Trixie ached.
This was hardly a new sensation. Her life for the past two months had given her a new appreciation for pain; she was quite sure that every muscle in her body, including quite a few she’d never known she’d had, was making their displeasure plain to her. Sure, the promise of payment was good, and she at least had regular meals, but she was starting to come to the conclusion that she was simply not designed for this sort of work.
Trixie slowly mounted the steps and pushed the door of her wagon open, her hooves dragging along the smoothed wooden floor before she flopped onto the small cot that served as her bed. Not even the bath she had taken earlier had helped. She wriggled a bit, doing her best to get comfortable on the cot before giving up and laying on her side.
At least today’s work had been cut short. Her employer, a tall, slim, orange-coated earth pony with a gray mane, a black hat and a perpetual frown by the name of Clyde, had informed her that there had been reports of Diamond Dog activity in the area, which was why that day’s work had been cut short. Trixie didn‘t care if it was Diamond Dogs, Dragons, or Dragon-Riding Diamond Dogs, she was just happy that she could rest.
Trixie looked over towards the mostly blank wall of her wagon. A low shelf housed what few things she owned; a lantern for light at night, a few small geodes that Clyde’s daughter Inkie had given her, her hat and cape, and the book.
Her eyes focused on the book. Light glinted off of the chains and the golden cross that adorned its cover. Trixie wasn’t a particularly suspicious unicorn, but she could swear that, sometimes, she could feel the book watching her. However, she could never bring herself to get rid of it.
“Ugh… I’m going to be so glad once my contract’s up. Just another few weeks, and I’ll be done. I’ll have my pay and I’ll be back on the road to greener pastures.”
Trixie rolled back over and yawned, stretching her limbs out above her as she tried to get comfortable.
Then the wagon shook.
Trixie blinked and sat up, then tumbled off of her cot as it shook again, this time much more violently.
“Oof! What in blazes? What’s going on?!” Trixie staggered towards the door. Then, suddenly, the wagon sank backwards, and began falling. Trixie screamed as her hooves scrambled for footing, only to go airborne as the wagon fell. She slammed against the walls, her things going everywhere as the wagon banged and bounced before coming to a sudden halt with a loud crash and a splintering of wood.
Trixie groaned, thankful that she was made of sterner stuff than her wagon. She wobbled to her feet, shaking her head in an attempt to clear the dizziness, only become quite clear-headed when she heard a knock at her wagon’s door.
Trixie panted, slowly backing away from the door. Her horn ignited as she grabbed her hat and yanked her cape out from underneath the cot, pulling it about her neck. Another flick of her horn pulled the book over to her side. If nothing else, it would be useful as a bludgeon.
“Poooonyyyy…” A raspy voice came from outside her door. “Come out pony. Come out or we make you come out…”
Trixie tried to keep calm. At least until she heard a canine growling and a scratching at the wooden structure of her wagon.
There was a crash as a huge, broken-clawed paw smashed through one of the windows.
Trixie screamed.

---

“What followed was an epic battle,” Trixie continued. “Trixie had been cornered by the Diamond Dogs, the foul scavengers of the underground. But Trixie would not go quietly into the night, oh no! There they were…”
“Um… Mistress?”
“Hush Shamal. There were a hundred of them, as big as-”
“A-actually, there were about thirty…”
Trixie gave Shamal a withering look, causing the knight to blush. “I’m trying to tell a good story here…”
“Sorry.”
Trixie huffed, then turned back to Fancy Pants. “Fine. I’ll skip to the important bit.”

---

“Ahhh!”
Trixie slammed into the ground, her coat covered in dust as she was pinned by a pair of stocky, armor-covered mutts, their spears pointed at her as she whimpered.
A skinny Diamond Dog with big, lantern-like yellow eyes and a long, blocky muzzle cackled before her, his paws rubbing together. “Yesss… now we have the pony!”
“T-trixie demands to be released, you… you… flea-ridden mongrel!”
“Pony will shut up, or Dig Dogs will make her shut up, oh yesss…”
“Boss, what we do with this?” A smaller dog lifted up the chain-covered book, his skinny arms straining to hold it up. One of the Dig Dogs whined, rubbing the very large crater on its helmet that was shaped like the book’s spine.
“Get rid of it. Pony won’t need it while she’s digging for us.”
“Digging? What are you babbling about? Trixie will not-”
“Pony will dig and pull the wagon,” the dog hissed, leaning in close enough that Trixie could smell his foul breath. “Pony will dig and pull the wagon, whether she likes it or not, oh yesss.”
Trixie glared up at him, then concentrated, only for the Diamond Dog to smack her on the point of her horn. Trixie winced in pain, then cried out as the mutt grabbed her horn and sneered at her.
“Magic pony think her tricks will save her? Not from Sparky. Oh no. Sparky too smart for pointy-headed pony.” The dog yanked Trixie’s head from side to side, his paw still tightly wrapped around her horn. “Pony will not make magic with her horn, or Sparky will break pretty pony’s pretty blue horn off!”
Trixie whimpered and shut her eyes tight as the beast let out a wheezy cackle. “No…”
“Pony knows her place, yes? Pony best, because pony will never see precious sun again!” It let out another wheezy cackle. “Pony will stay with Diamond Dogs forever and ever.”
“No!” Trixie cried out over the Diamond Dogs’ laughter. “Somepony! Anypony! Please, help me! SAVE ME!”
Crack.
Trixie’s heart skipped a beat. All eyes turned towards the book as one of the chains simply… snapped.
Then another.
Then another.
Then the final chain broke, the links rattling as they fell away. The book began to thrum with power as it slowly lifted into the air, a black and purple corona of shadow forming around it, so dark that seemed to swallow up light.
“ICH ENTFERNE EINE VERSIEGELUNG.”
The book was talking. Trixie stared as its cover opened with a snap. Its pages, each one blank, rustled and flipped as though a powerful wind was blowing across them. The air shuddered with power as the aura grew larger. It then uttered another word in that strange language.
“ANFANG.”
And then, the shadows consumed the light. Trixie could hear the panicked growls and whines of the Diamond Dogs in the darkness.
“AKTVIERUNG WÄCHTER PROGRAMMS, WOLKENRITTER.”
Four triangles of light sprang into existence, illuminating the darkness. Four strange silhouettes rose from within those strange, rune-covered diagrams, their eyes glowing ominously.
“D-dig Dogs!” Sparky shouted, pointing towards the figures. “Attack!”
“Laevatein,” the tall figure with a sword and a long mane spoke calmly, “Cartridge Load.”
There was a crack like thunder, and then a flash of purple flame. Trixie covered her head in fear as she felt the fire waft over her. Suddenly, she was in the middle of a battle.
“SCHWALBE FLIEGEN!” Explosions roared and dust fell down around her. Trixie scrambled for cover as a small figure, armed with a hammer shot over her, letting out a loud battle cry.
“STEEL YOKE!” Blades of white light sprang up from the ground, blocking off the dogs paths of retreat. A huge wolf snarled and leapt into the fray.
“Klarwind, guide me! Commandment Chain!” The fourth figure raised its hands as thin wires of green light lashed out, ensnaring the dogs like the strands of a spider’s web.
Trixie flung herself into the remains of her wagon, yanking the cot over her body as she hid, cringing as she heard explosions and the sounds of violence continue. She remained in hiding until an eerie silence fell. Then, slowly, she peeked out from under her cot.
The four figures had gathered before the door to her wrecked wagon, their eyes focused on her.
“Hail,” the tall one with the sword said, its voice strong and feminine, “oh Mistress.”
“We are the Wolkenritter, the Knights of the Cloud,” the great wolf growled.
“We are your loyal servants, of you and the Book of Darkness,” the third one spoke, golden rings glittering on the fingers of its paw.
“What is your wish,” the little one with the hammer asked.
Trixie stared at them, her mouth hanging open.
And then she fainted.

---

“Mistress, Signum didn’t-”
Trixie let out a sigh. “I know, I know. Look, I’m trying to make things a bit more dramatic, alright?”
“Did you actually faint?” Fancy Pants was grinning.
“Well…”
Shamal nodded. “Actually, yes. She did. It was the first time that happened to us. It threw us off a little… well, not as much as having a pony for a Mistress, but it‘s still a little embarrassing when your Mistress faints at the sight of you.”
Trixie grimaced as Fancy Pants snorted in amusement, a hoof going to his lips. “Sorry,” he apologized, coughing and doing his best to hide behind a more straight face. “Now… what happened after that?”
“Um…if I may, Mistress?” Shamal glanced at the blue pony, who sighed.
“Go ahead, Shamal.”

---

The Mirror of Travels opened with a soft hum, forming into a circular door of blue and green light. Vita and Signum stepped through the portal first, weapons at the ready and eyes scanning the area for threats. 
Area clear, Signum messaged to the others. Bring her through.
They were soon followed by Zafira, who was carrying their new Mistress across his back. Finally, Shamal stepped through, drawing Klarwind’s wires through the portal and closing it behind her, the Book of Darkness held in her other arm.
The land around them was rocky and mostly barren, and the moon was already rising into the sky. Dusk had settled onto the world, and everything was tinted slightly orange.
“Vita,” Signum looked to the petite red-head, sheathing her sword as she did so, “do some aerial scouting. Check and see if there’s any incoming hostiles in the surrounding area. Refrain from engaging in combat.”
“Right. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Vita crouched and leapt into the air as Zafira let the pony slide off his back, Shamal kneeling beside her.
“Is the Mistress alright, Shamal?” Signum looked over towards Shamal, her hand glowing as she ran it over the unicorn’s prone form.
“I think so. It seems she’s just fainted.”
“Stay with her until she wakes up. Be ready to raise a barrier if we’re attacked. Zafira, join Vita on scouting. If your nose picks up anything, inform us at once.”
“Yes, General,” Zafira growled, then loped off at a run.
“We’ll stay here until they come back,” Signum replied as she crouched down opposite of Shamal. “Once they do, we’ll have to establish a safe area. Find somewhere defensible.”
“Signum, does this place feel… odd to you?” Shamal looked up at her, then raised her other hand up to her eye-level. The jewels on Klarwind’s rings lit up as a sphere of light formed before her, quickly filling with Belkan runes.
“It does. I’m not sure why, however.” Signum rose to her feet and looked around, her hand still resting on Laevatein’s hilt.
“Klarwind’s readings say that this area has a particularly high density of natural magical energy,” Shamal lowered her hand, the light flicking out. “Aside from that, everything seems clean…”
“I’m more concerned about her,” Signum nodded down to the unicorn. “Is she really our Mistress?”
“The Book of Darkness responded to her call, and her Linker Core bears its mark. It seems she was indeed chosen.”
“I was unaware that the Book could even select a Guardian Beast to be its Mistress.”
Shamal frowned. “I don’t think she’s a Guardian Beast. Her Linker Core isn’t like a human’s, but she doesn’t seem to have the signature of a contracted entity. As far as my scans can tell, she’s completely natural…”
“Hmm.” Signum grunted softly, turning away and looking around, her stance still wary.
Vita returned a few minutes later, dust kicking up around her feet as she landed. “Area looks clear,” she said without prompting. “I did see a small settlement a few clicks southwest of here, but aside from that, nothing. Nothing but dirt and rocks for as far as the eye can see.”
“My report’s the same,” Zafira replied as he trotted up towards them, his body lighting up as he shifted from lupine to human form. “No visible threats of any sort.”
Signum nodded, a hand going to her chin as she considered the information carefully. “Did you see any areas where we can set up in a defensive position?”
“Negative.”
“Like I said, just empty open land.” Vita shrugged, resting Graf Eisen on her shoulder. “Nothing but rocks and dirt.”
“The settlement might be our best chance, then…”
“Mmmf…”
The four of them became very still as the pony grunted and began to stir.

---

“And that,” Trixie replied, “was when Trixie decided to wake up.”

---

Trixie groaned softly, squirming a little as she started to awaken. The cot felt rather hard and a bit dirty. She’d probably have to clean it…
“Ugh…what a dream.” Trixie slowly rolled onto her side and opened her eyes, then blinked. There was dirt under her muzzle. There was a boot level with her eyes. She slowly looked upwards, following a pale-skinned limb, passing what looked like a black leotard up to an unfamiliar face framed by long pink hair.
“Hail, Mistress,” the creature said calmly.
Trixie reacted about as well as could be suspected under the circumstances.
“AHHH!” Trixie scrambled to her hooves and slammed into another figure; one with a short blonde mane and green eyes, also dressed in a black outfit.
“M-mistress, calm down!” A pair of strong arms wrapped around her middle and held her still.
“AHHH!” She began to kick and wriggle in the creature’s grip.
“Sheesh,” a third individual, this one much smaller than the others with red hair and what looked like a silver croquette mallet in one hand, groused as Trixie wriggled, “I didn’t expect she’d be a coward.”
“Hush, Vita,” a fourth said. This one was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark skin and a long wolf-like tail swaying behind him. “Refrain from such insolence towards our Mistress.”
Trixie panted rapidly, looking between them as her heart beat wildly in her chest. Her struggles slowed as she realized that they didn’t seem to mean her harm. “T-that wasn’t a dream?! Y-you’re all real?!”
“Correct,” the pink-haired one said as she knelt down on one knee, head bowing and one hand resting on the ground. The other two followed suit. The one holding her let go and joined them.
“Hail, Mistress of the Book of Darkness. We are the guardians and servants of the Book. I am Signum, the General of the Blazing Flame.”
“I am Vita,” the red-head said, “the Knight of the Iron Hammer.”
“I am Shamal,” the blonde said, “the Knight of the Lake.”
“I am Zafira,” the wolf-eared one said, “the Guardian Beast of the Shield.”
“We are the clouds that gather beneath the dark sky,” Signum concluded. “We are the Wolkenritter. What is your command, Mistress?”
“M-my command?”
“Yes. As Mistress of the Book of Darkness, we are your servants as well. Do with us as you will; your desires are our desires.”
Trixie stared at the four beings kneeling before her, her mouth agape. “Um… uh…”
She looked around, her mind a blank. “Um… where’s my wagon?”
“Your wagon, Mistress?”
“Yeah…”
“You mean that thing still down below?” Vita replied.
“Um…yes. Trixie… Trixie would like it returned, please?”
“Of course, Mistress. At once.” Signum rose to her feet. “Shamal?”
Shamal nodded and swept her hand out. Thin wires extended from her rings, arcing upwards to form a large circular portal. Signum snapped her fingers and strode through, followed closely by Vita and Zafira. Trixie stared, her ears perked forwards as she heard voices coming from the other side of the portal.
“How are we supposed to move this? The thing’s half-demolished!”
“Silence Vita. Zafira, get over to that side. Vita, come over here and grab a hold of this spoke. Careful now…”
“I don’t think this is going to work General. The whole structure’s unstable…”
“Just pick up your side Zafira. Alright. Ready? Lift!”
There was a loud crash. Trixie winced.
“You okay Zafira?”
“Fine Vita. The roof just fell on me…”
“Hrm. We should be able to stabilize it. Zafira, Vita, use a barrier to buttress the walls. I’ll do the same.”
“Ready.”
“Ready, General.”
“Alright, let’s try this again. Lift!”
There was a soft hum as the portal widened, allowing the three through as they carried a ramshackle, boxy shape through, glowing under a haze of pink, red and blue-white light. The wagon, much abused thanks to its tumble into the underground and subsequent battering, looked about as stable as a house of cards.
“Alright. We’re through Shamal.” Signum noted as the three of them lowered their load onto the ground. “Your wagon, as commanded, Mistress.”
“Um…” Trixie looked at what remained of her wagon. “Thank you.”
Signum nodded in reply as Trixie approached, then reached up and gently prodded it with one hoof.
There was a loud crash as the wreck proceeded to collapse in on itself; first the wall she poked, followed closely by both walls, the back wall, and finally the roof. Silence rapidly fell as the Wolkenritter looked at each other, then at Trixie.
“I should have expected that.” Trixie’s voice was deadpan.
“Forgive us Mistress,” Signum knelt down onto one knee. “If necessary, we will-”
“No, it’s fine.” Trixie sighed, taking a seat and rubbing her mane. “It was a piece of junk anyway. What kind of traveling wagon doesn’t have a built in bed? That teaches me to buy something that cheap…”

---

“Thus, Trixie ended up with a quartet of strange beings that seemed more than willing to fulfill her every whim,” Trixie concluded.
“And we four,” Shamal added, “were faced with a Mistress that didn’t seem to know what to do with us.”
“You could say the situation was pretty strange for all parties involved.”
“I can imagine,” Fancy replied.
“At first,” Trixie continued, “I tried to keep my distance. After I got back to the rock farm and managed to calm the Pie family down…”
“Was this the point where you told them that you single-hoofedly chased the Diamond Dogs away?” Shamal smiled knowingly.
Trixie coughed, “I might have… exaggerated a bit, yes. Of course, they didn’t quite believe me at first, but when the attacks stopped they might have given my explanation some consideration. That would explain what happened afterwards.”

---

The chisel clinked merrily as Trixie tapped her hammer against it, her eyes narrowed in concentration as sweat rolled down her neck. The sun was high overhead, and its rays beat down on Trixie. The lack of humidity was a blessing, but only a small one.
“You just had to open your big mouth, Trixie,” she grumbled to herself. “You just had to boast about how easy the job was to Clyde. And now you have an entire stupid field of stupid rocks to deal with by sundown, and all on your own. Ugh…”
Trixie set the hammer down and ran the rag that laid over her neck across her brow, exhaling as she took a seat and glared balefully at the field before her. She wasn’t even a fifth of the way through with the field; dozens upon dozens of rocks, ranging from the size of her head to the size of a fully-grown stallion were waiting for breaking.
“At this rate, it’ll take Trixie days to finish this field. Maybe Trixie should ask…”
She paused, then shook her head stubbornly. “No. Trixie will not go groveling for help. Trixie will not admit defeat, not even if she has to do the entire field on her own. Not even if she has to work all night.”
It was then that she became aware of the sudden shade that had fallen over her. She glanced down at the four long shadows, then quickly turned to face the ones casting them.
“What do you want?” Trixie frowned up at them.
“We have come to request our next command, Mistress,” Signum said calmly, going to one knee. The others followed suit. 
“We’ve done as you’ve asked, Mistress,” Shamal shifted uncomfortably as she knelt, her knee resting on a small rock. “We’ve remained out of sight for the time being. However…”
“However?”
“We are your servants, Mistress,” Zafira noted, his tail swishing slowly as he spoke. “It is our duty to serve you at your command. And we‘re without orders.”
“Um, okay… First off,” Trixie set her hammer down, “look at Trixie while you’re speaking to her. This whole ‘kneel and bow your heads’ thing is getting old.”
The four did as ordered.
“Now,“ Trixie inhaled slowly and took a seat. “Trixie is… greatly flattered by all this, but Trixie doesn’t need any help. Really. Trixie gets by just fine on her own. She doesn’t need servants.”
The Wolkenritter stared at her blankly.
“Look,” Trixie continued irritably. “Trixie isn’t a princess or something. She’s just a mare. An incredibly beautiful and talented mare, but a mare nonetheless. Trixie doesn’t understand what it is you four want from her.”
“We don’t want anything, Mistress,” Vita replied flatly.
“It is our duty to serve your whims.” Shamal added. “Whatever it is you want-”
“I get that part. But, seriously, that’s it? You’re just here to serve me? That’s it? That’s all?”
Trixie quirked an eyebrow as the four glanced at each other, some of them looking a little shocked.
“Forgive us, Mistress,” Signum said stoically, “but… yes. That’s our purpose. That’s always been our purpose.”
“It is the duty of the Wolkenritter to serve the Book and its Master,” Zafira added.
“Not that we’ve had much choice in the matter,” Vita grumbled.
Trixie blinked. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” Vita huffed.
“No. What did you say?”
Vita glanced away, even as the other three Wolkenritter looked at her. “I said, ‘not that we’ve had much choice.’ Mistress.”
Trixie stared at Vita for a few moments, then glanced at the four Knights. “Trixie,” she said slowly, “isn’t sure she understands. Are you saying…”
“Our desires are irrelevant compared to the needs of our master, Mistress,” Signum replied. “Our purpose is to serve our master and protect the Book of Darkness. That is all. All else is irrelevant.”
Trixie frowned and rose to her feet. “Like heck it’s irrelevant. You mean to tell me that you don’t have your own wants and needs? That you’re just… just slaves?!”
“Correct.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the four. Only Signum kept her eyes on Trixie. The others glanced away.
Trixie felt a heavy weight settle into the pit of her stomach as the realization hit. “That’s…probably the worst thing that Trixie’s ever heard of.”
“Mistress…”
“No. Don’t call me that,” Trixie snapped. “I am not your Mistress! Trixie does not need slaves. Or servants. Trixie is a self-made mare, not some fat-bottomed little brat of a filly.”
The blue unicorn began to pace back and forth, then stopped and pointed a hoof at the Wolkenritter. “New rule. As of right now, you are not my servants. You are… are…” She paused, a hoof going to her lips as she considered briefly, then pointed again, “my assistants. Yes! From here on out, you are my assistants! Got it?”
“As you wish, Mistress,” Signum replied with a nod.
“I just told you- ugh, never mind. We’ll work on that later.” Trixie huffed. “Look, here’s how this works. You’re my assistants. I’m your boss. We work together. You care for me, I care for you. So if you want or need something, you ask me, and we’ll see if we can get it. We’re all in this together. Got it?”
“You’re… you’re serious, right?” Vita looked at Trixie in confusion, slowly rising to her feet and stepping around Signum to look her in the eye. “You’re not just screwing with us… right?”
Trixie arched an eyebrow. “Does the Great and Powerful Trixie look like she’s lying to you?”
“I… I don’t know?”
“I mean what I say. Sure, I may tell stories and… exaggerate a few things to entertain my audience, but I know when to tell the truth. This is one of those times. Got that, Vita?”
Vita nodded slowly, eyes going wide.
“Good. Now,” Trixie flicked her mane out of her face as she turned back to face the rock she had been working on, “I need to get back to work. If you guys want to help me, that’s fine. Otherwise… sit there and enjoy the sun, I guess. Your choice.”
Trixie hefted her hammer and leveled it towards the chisel, taking a swing and hitting. She exhaled, lifting her hammer again, only for a different, larger hammer with a silver-and-red head to hit the rock instead. Trixie turned, looking towards Vita as she lifted her mallet up and rested it on her shoulder.
“Tell me what you want smashed, Mistress,” Vita said with a smile, “and I’ll happily smash it.”
There was a pause, and then…
“I suppose I could help,” Shamal asked cautiously. “I’m not sure what I can offer, but…”
“It looks like you might have a little trouble,” Zafira said, popping his knuckles before plucking the hammer from Trixie‘s magical field. “I’ll lend a hand.”
Trixie glanced over at Signum, who nodded and stood slowly. “My sword is yours, Trixie, if you would have it.”
Trixie glanced amongst them, then nodded. “Alright. Let me explain what we need to do…”

---

“At first, I don’t think I realized exactly how much my words meant to them,” Trixie admitted. “But as we worked that day, and they told me about themselves, well…”
Fancy looked over to Shamal, who had wrapped her arms gently around Trixie’s neck. “For as long as we could remember, we were slaves. At best we were treated like tools, like weapons. At worst…” Shamal shivered and tightened her arms around Trixie‘s neck, “well… it’s best not to mention that…”
“Careful Shamal,” Trixie murmured.
“Sorry.” Shamal relaxed slightly before continuing. “For the first time, we had a master that seemed to care. That didn’t seem interested in using us… that treated us as her equals. And to some of us, it seemed too good to be true.”	

---

“Ahhh… it’s so good to be done.” Trixie exhaled, relaxing against one of the fractured boulders. “And here I thought that it’d take forever to break all those boulders.
“Well, thankfully you have me on your side, Mistress,” Vita smirked. “What’s a few boulders when you’ve got a hammer like Graf Eisen?”
“That did help… once I convinced you not to smash them into powder.”
“Heh… sorry.”
“I’m still not sure how this is supposed to work,” Zafira frowned, tossing a fist-sized rock up and down as he sat cross-legged. “I’ve never heard of growing things inside rocks before…”
“Trixie doesn’t really get it either, but hey, money’s money…”
Trixie certainly seemed in good spirits. Vita sat beside her, as did Zafira. Shamal and Signum, meanwhile, stood a little ways away from them.
Shamal…
Shamal turned her attention away from their conversation and looked to Signum. Yes, General?
What is your opinion of our Mistress?
My opinion? I’m not sure what you’re looking for…
Signum’s normally dour face grew slightly more so. How long do you think it will take for her to give us the order to hunt?
I don‘t know… Shamal bit her lip pensively. But Signum, don’t you think that we should wait? It’s not as though we have to inform her of the Book’s purpose right now.
No.
Shamal shot a look to Signum. Signum, please…
It doesn’t matter how long we wait; she will find out eventually. And once our Mistress learns of the Book’s true purpose, things will occur as they have before, Signum replied darkly. There is no reason for us to think otherwise.
But maybe it’ll be different this time! She isn’t like our previous masters. Maybe she‘s…
I sincerely doubt it, Signum replied. Perhaps it would be best to get this over with now. The quicker we dismiss this false hope, the better.
Wait, Signum… Shamal glanced to the laughing Vita, then back to her leader before walking after her.

---

“Mistress?”
Trixie glanced back as Signum approached her. “Yes, Signum?”
“May I ask you a question?”
“Well, you just did, but go ahead.”
Signum looked over at Vita, then back to Trixie as she knelt down before the pony. “If you had power… what would you do with it?”
Trixie blinked. “Power?”
“Yes. Magical power. Say that you were the strongest unicorn in all the land. What would you do with that power?”
Trixie hmmed, slowly rubbing one ear as she considered. “Well… to begin with, Trixie would like to know why you’re asking-”
Trixie’s voice came to a stop as she noticed the knight‘s expression. Signum’s face was serious, moreso than usual. “I ask…because I wish to know.”
Trixie frowned. “Know what?”
Vita stared at Signum, then reached out towards the taller knight. Signum glared in Vita’s direction, causing her to withdraw her hand and look away. The pink-haired knight then turned back to Trixie. 
“Please… answer me.”
“Well,” Trixie hmmed. “I suppose I’d go around doing things I‘d like to do. I know the first thing I’d do would be to show up that little goody-goody Twilight Sparkle.”
“Twilight Sparkle?” Vita blinked. “Is she your enemy or something?”
“She is Trixie’s rival! It was her and her friends that ruined Trixie’s reputation!” Trixie put on a confident smirk and tossed her mane back, her arms crossing before her  as she struck a pose. “That’s probably what Trixie would do first. She’d go right back to that dumb little town and show every pony there that Trixie truly is the greatest and most powerful unicorn of all, far greater than Twilight Sparkle!”
Trixie’s smirk faltered as she saw Signum’s expression darken. And like a spreading thunderhead, the others seemed to grow grim as well.
“Um… what’s with all the glum faces? Trixie is confused now…”
“Mistress, do you know what the Book of Darkness does,” Signum asked.
“Should I?”
“I suppose not.” Signum waved a hand, and the Book simply appeared in a streak of purple-black energy.
“The Book of Darkness is an artifact of great and terrible power,” Signum explained, holding the book in one hand before Trixie. “As you know, our previous masters sought out the Book, seeking that power. And now, it has chosen you. Simply give the word, and we Wolkenritter will fill its pages.”
“Once the Book is complete,” Shamal continued, “you will be granted full access to its power. It will make you the most powerful mage ever. Your magic will be beyond your wildest imagination.”
Trixie stared at the book. “My… my wildest imagination?”
“Yes.”
“Even more powerful than the Princesses?”
Signum nodded. “Their powers would pale in comparison. You would possess access to every magical secret gathered by the book in its centuries of existence.”
Trixie ran her tongue over her lips as she reached out and levitated the book into her hooves, staring at it. More powerful than the Princesses? Was such a thing even possible? It was incredibly tempting… If Signum was telling the truth, she wouldn’t simply be The Great and Powerful Trixie. She would be The Greatest and Most Powerful Trixie. The Divine and Omnipotent Trixie! She had to admit, that did sound pretty nice.
She could have anything. Do anything. Twilight Sparkle would be a nopony to her! She could rule Equestria… nay, the world! All she had to do was give the order, and it would be hers…
“So…” Trixie peeked over the edge of the book at Signum. “Suppose I say yes. How does this… work exactly?”
“You command us to fill the pages,” Signum said soberly. “And we will do so without fail.”
“How do you do that?”
“We will go forth into the world as hunters,” Signum answered. “We will strike down any mages in our path and allow the Book to consume their Linker Cores…”
“…Come again?”
“Their Linker Cores,” Shamal supplied. “The source of their magic. The book will consume it and their knowledge, adding it to its own.”
“Whatever your decision,” Signum said with a note of finality, “we will accept and execute it. What is your command, Mistress?
Trixie looked from the Wolkenritter, then to the Book. It seemed so heavy, heavier than a book its size should have been. She had never thought that something like this would have fallen to her… surely this was providence. She was but a few syllables away from power. She wouldn’t simply be a performer; she’d be a wizard, the sort of which she’d heard stories of. No, she’d be greater! Starswirl the Bearded? Clover the Clever? They would be half-trained nitwits compared to her! Twilight Sparkle would be an ant!
All she had to do was give the order.
Trixie looked up from the Book and to the Wolkenritter, and felt her blood turn to ice. Signum’s expression was neutral, but her eyes were focused on her; there was disappointment in her gaze, the sort of disappointment that spoke of hope long dead. Shamal wasn’t even looking at her, her mane fallen before her eyes and her lips pulled down in a sad frown.
Vita was watching her quietly, her young eyes dull even as her hand rested on Zafira’s paw. The wolf-man’s ears were pulled back, and his tail bottle-brush stiff. His lips were pulled back in a lupine sneer, revealing pearly fangs while his ruby eyes glittered with anger.
Some cold, heartless part of Trixie wanted to say ‘hang it all, this is just too good to pass up.’ Why should she care what they thought? Why should she care about those other ponies? Why should she care about the Wolkenritter? Didn’t she always say ’anything you can do, Trixie can do better?’ Just one little sentence and she could be greater than the Princesses! 
And yet…
“Mistress?” Vita’s voice was quiet.
Trixie looked at Vita, then down at the Book, then back at Signum, then tossed the Book aside. The tome sailed a few feet before landing amidst the rocks.
“No.”
Signum looked like she’d been struck by lightning. “What?”
“Trixie,” she began, brushing off her hooves slowly, “has considered your proposition, and has decided that she does not feel like becoming a god.”
Signum’s stoicism melted into pure shock. Shamal, meanwhile, had a little smile on her face as Vita’s eyes lit up. Zafira’s ears perked forwards and his expression calmed, though his tail began to slowly wag.
“Mistress… I don’t understand…” Signum seemed to struggle with her words. “We’re offering you this power… and you’re just going to say no?”
“Did Trixie stutter?” Trixie quirked an eyebrow.
“But…”
“Trixie will admit, she was tempted.” Trixie huffed, pushing some of her sweat-stained mane out of her eyes. “Very tempted. However, Trixie is many things; an entertainer, a storyteller, a magician of vast and improbable talent and… well, a bit of a braggart. But I am not, and will never be, a thief. It’s just… wrong to hurt other ponies just to better myself. There are lines that just should not be crossed. And stealing magic? That‘s one of them. Trust me.”
“Besides,” Trixie snorted and looked away with a ‘humph,’ “Trixie would much rather see the look on Twilight Sparkle’s face when she beats her properly. It’d hardly be fair if Trixie cheated, now would it?”
“I… suppose not.” Signum said slowly, still looking like she’d been staggered as she bowed her head.
“No, it wouldn’t.” Trixie glanced over towards Signum, then frowned. “Signum? Are you crying?”
“No, Mistress,” Signum said softly, wiping her face with a hand. “I just… had something in my eye.”
Trixie smiled faintly. “Must have gotten it in both eyes.” She glanced amongst the others, then inhaled. “Let me make this clear then. I, the Great and Powerful Trixie, want nothing to do with the Book or its power. I want you to forget about doing that whole… whatever it is you do. The collecting Linker Cores or whatever. Got it?”
“Yes Mistress,” Signum said. “As leader of the Wolkenritter, you have my word. We shall forgo that duty at your command.”
“Good.”

---

“I still can’t believe Signum thought about me that way,” Trixie grumbled.
“Signum had every right to think that way, Mistress,” Shamal replied, one hand gently stroking Trixie’s mane, “Given what you know of us, can you really blame her for expecting that things would continue as they used to?”
“Not really.”
Shamal sighed and looked to Fancy Pants. “At any rate, we four soon settled in. We kept a low profile until Trixie had completed her service to the Pie family, and then we moved on.”
“I’d imagine that was a bit difficult,” Fancy tilted his head. “You mean to tell me you spent all that time on the farm and remained unseen?”
“It was taxing sometimes.” Shamal blushed. “I used a low-power, short-range spatial barrier to hide us when we weren’t needed… or when we had to use the Pie family’s facilities when the weather was poor. That way, we could move about relatively unnoticed, particularly at night when it’s difficult to notice the barrier’s tell-tale magical signature.”
“Of course, once I was done with the rock farm,” Trixie said, “I came to the conclusion that more… extensive measures would be required.”

---

“Alright, I can already tell this isn’t going to work,” Trixie said as she paced back and forth, the saddlebags that Blinkie Pie had ’loaned’ her jangling against her sides as she walked. She had already left the Pie family’s rock farm, and had only made it about a mile down the road before the Wolkenritter appeared out of nowhere.
The Wolkenritter knelt before her out of instinct more than anything else as she paced before them, though they no longer bowed their heads in deference..
“I mean… you guys can’t stay hiding forever if we’re going to be on the road, and I don’t think I can put you back in the Book.” Trixie glanced towards the tome Signum had tucked under her arm. “But I really don’t think we need everypony staring at you as we pass by. Any ideas?”
The four remained silent until Shamal raised a hand. “Um… Mistress?”
“Yes Shamal?”
“What if we disguise ourselves?” Shamal looked over to the others, then back to Trixie. “As ponies, I mean. Then we wouldn’t stick out all that much.”
Trixie blinked. “You can do that?”
“Easily. Watch.”
Trixie did indeed watch as Shamal closed her eyes, a rune-filled triangle forming underneath her as her body glowed and morphed. When the light faded, a pony with a pale green coat and golden mane and tail stood in her place, a slender horn protruding from her brow. All that remained of her previous form was the four golden rings that hung from a slim chain around her neck.
Trixie stared. “Okay… Trixie is impressed. How did…”
“Well, our bodies aren’t exactly biological,” Shamal replied, inspecting a hoof, then turning her head back to look at her tail. “We’re constructs, nothing more than solidified mana. So when I use a disguise spell, it’s effectively flawless…”
“Wow.” Trixie walked around Shamal, then paused. “Um… you forgot a cutie mark.”
“A what?”
“A cutie mark. Every pony has a cutie mark. See?” Trixie turned and gestured to her flank. “It represents what you are… what your talent is.”
“Oh! Um… hmm…” Shamal frowned and concentrated. There was a small flash as an image appeared on her flank. “How does that look?”
“Um…  it’s nice. Though what’s a bird on a blue puddle supposed to represent?”
“Well… I am the Knight of the Lake…” Shamal blushed. “If you want, I could-”
“No.” Trixie waved a hoof. “It’s your mark. You pick it out.”
Shamal blushed a little more, then nodded as she moved over to the others. “Alright, who’s next?”

---

“I refuse.”
“Oh come on Zafira,” Vita teased. The scarlet-coated filly bounced around the wolf-man, the silver hammer on her flank glinting slightly in the light as she did so. “You’d look cute as a pony!”
“No.”
“Zafira, we require disguises.” Signum looked a little grumpy as she pushed her long magenta mane out of her face, only to blink as it moved of its own accord. She glanced back at Trixie as the mare tied her mane back with a bit of string, then turned back to the Guardian Beast. “Please allow Shamal-”
“I’m a wolf. I don’t need a disguise.” Zafira growled, crossing his arms defiantly.
“Oh come on, don’t be a spoil sport,” Vita pouted.
“He’s kind of got a point,” Trixie replied, tugging the impromptu hair tie into a bow before letting go. “Leave him alone. If he’s comfortable walking around as a dog instead of a pony, then that’s fine.”
Vita harrumphed as Zafira gave Trixie a thankful look. “If you say so, Mistress.”
“I do say so. Now,” Trixie hmmed and looked at them. “You’ll all need aliases. If we’re going to do this disguise thing, we might as well go all the way.”
“Aliases?”
“Well, not a lot of ponies have funny names like yours, no offense intended,” Trixie hmmed and looked at Vita. “How does ‘Mallet’ sound to you, Vita?”
“I think it fits.” Vita grinned.
“It does, considering how blunt you are.”
“Hey!” Vita pouted as Trixie chuckled.
“I suppose our aliases should relate to our talents. It would be easier to avoid mistakes.” Signum glanced back at her crossed-swords cutie mark then hmmed. “I shall call myself… I don’t know. ’Sword?’”
Trixie hmmed and rubbed her chin. “That‘s a bit plain… how about ‘Sword Dancer?’ That way, it‘s a bit more distinctive… flashier.”
Signum shrugged. “That will work, I suppose.”
“If it’s okay,” Shamal blushed, “I’ll go by ‘Swan Lake.’ That sounds like a proper pony name, right?” She looked over at Zafira, then giggled. “I vote we should call Zafira ‘Sapphire.’ His fur is a pretty shade of blue, so it works…”
Zafira quirked an eyebrow. “Sapphire?”
“I must admit,” Signum conceded, “that does seem appropriate.”
“Sapphire?”
“What’s the matter, Sapphire,” Vita grinned, “not a fan of the name?”
“Not particularly. It sounds like a girl‘s name.” Zafira grumbled as he looked at the four sets of equine eyes, then sighed heavily. “I suppose I‘m out voted…”
Trixie laughed. “Hey, it could always be worse.”
“I fail to see how.”
“How about ‘Fluffy?’ Or-”
“Sapphire is a fine name,” Zafira growled and crossed his arms, looking away. “Even if it is ridiculous.”
Despite herself, Trixie laughed. She was quickly joined by Vita, then Shamal. Zafira glanced at them out of the corner of his eye, then huffed as a faint smirk made his mouth twitch.

---

“I think you know where the story went from there,” Trixie concluded.
“Yes, I do.” Fancy Pants conceded “However, it might be best to go over it. After all, every detail is important, and we don‘t want to miss anything when you‘re presenting your story.”
“Alright.” Trixie sighed. “Well, as you know, we made our way to Manehattan. I thought a large city far away from the countryside would provide better prospects for performances. And if nothing else, I could do street magic to bring in a little money. Bits were still tight, however. After getting an apartment and various other necessities, there wasn’t all that much left over.”
“We did our best to help out as well,” Shamal added. “Though our skill sets were a bit limited when it came to more mundane tasks, we still tried to get work where we could.”
“And it wasn’t like we went hungry… well…” Trixie gave Shamal an irritated look. “I didn’t go hungry, at least.”
Shamal blushed. “Unlike you Mistress, we don’t require food. Being a construct does have its advantages.”
“Still didn’t make me feel any better about you guys going without any. Anyway,” Trixie sighed, “by the time you ran across me, I was more than a little down on my luck. It was starting to get into winter by that point and the shopping season for Hearth’s Warming Eve meant that bits for a street performer were a relatively low priority.”
“Of course, that was where you came in.”

---

“Here’s your hot cocoa, ma’am.”
“Thanks.” Trixie took the mug and blew away some of the steam as the waitress walked away, enjoying the heat on her front hooves as she held the cup. Her cape and hat were folded on the booth beside her, still damp from the snow that had landed on them.
“I suppose I should pay you back,” Trixie said to her benefactor, a tall and regal-looking stallion with a white coat and blue mane and mustache. His turtleneck sweater looked expensive, as did the jacket and scarf that hung on rack near the door. She wondered, briefly, if the rim of his monocle was actually gold, or just gold plated. 
“It‘s my treat, actually,” he replied with a playful smile. “Considering how cold it is out there, you looked like you needed it.”
“Trixie was fine.”
“You were shivering so hard that you stuttered through your speech.”
“Trixie was only slightly chilly,” she sniffed and drank from her mug, letting out a loud, satisfied breath when she came up for air. “As if winter could defeat Trixie that easily.”
The stallion laughed. “Well, I have to admit, you were certainly giving the cold a run for its money. Though I have to wonder why you were performing out in this weather.” He glanced out the large, plate glass window at the gently falling snow “There’s no wind, but even the toughest ponies are bundling up. And you were just out in a hat and cape.”
“Well, Trixie did have a scarf, but some nasty little scamp made off with it while Trixie wasn’t looking,” Trixie grumbled, sipping her cocoa. 
“Can’t really blame somepony for wanting to stay warm,” the stallion replied. “Not everypony has warm clothes after all. If they were willing to steal a scarf, they must have been pretty desperate.”
“I know, but it’s still irritating.” Trixie shook her head. “Sorry. I don’t mean to sound greedy, mister…”
“Fancy Pants.”
“Right. Fancy Pants. As to why Trixie was performing… well, Trixie has to make money somehow.”
“So you’re a street performer?”
“Trixie is a wandering magician. Unfortunately, Trixie has had a little bad luck recently. Several months of bad luck, in fact, in between losing my wagon twice and all my worldly possessions.” She swirled the mug’s contents and grumbled. “If things continue at this rate, I’ll likely be late with the rent payment this month. Again.”
“My. That does sound like bad luck indeed,” Fancy Pants frowned.
“Eh, I’ve gone through worse.” Trixie swallowed the last of her mug’s contents.
“More cocoa?”
“If you’re offering, yes.”
Fancy Pants waved a waitress down before turning back to Trixie. “As I was saying, it does sound like luck is not on your side.”
“Trixie will rebound, eventually.” The blue unicorn smirked as she levitated her mug over to the edge of the table as the waitress filled it. “She just needs an opportunity.”
“Hmm. Well…” Fancy Pants smiled faintly, “I might have a proposition for you…”
Trixie blinked, then frowned and flattened her ears. “Trixie isn’t used to propositions from strange stallions, even if they do give her hot cocoa. Those are the sorts of things that lead to stories from two-bit romance novels.”
Fancy Pants chuckled. “I can assure you, Miss Trixie, this isn’t that sort of proposition. This is just a business proposition.”
“Trixie isn’t used to those either.”
“My intentions are strictly honorable,” he replied as Trixie sipped her cocoa. “As serendipity would have it, I’m visiting the city for a specific purpose. Have you heard of a place called Hope House, Trixie?”
“Trixie can’t say that she has, no.”
“I’m visiting to speak to some of the staff there. Normally, it’s just to see what the foals there need for Hearth’s Warming. However, I’d like to ask if you’d be willing to put on a show for them. The winter months can be a bit dreary even with the holidays coming up, and some entertainment would certainly lift the little ones’ spirits.”
Trixie hmmed. “An orphanage? Well, it’s hardly an ideal stage…”
“If you-”
“Trixie said it’s not ideal. She didn’t say she wasn’t interested.” Trixie smirked. “Normally, Trixie would be much more prepared… but Trixie will see what she can do.”
“So you’re willing to perform for the orphanage?”
“Trixie will. I’m sure you’ll be paying her fee?”
“If the foals are happy with the results,” Fancy Pants smiled, “then I’ll see what I can do…”

---

“Again, thank you so much for your time, Miss Trixie. It really means a lot to us…”
Trixie smiled wanly at the old earth pony mare, her wiry, iron-gray mane the same color as the frames of her wing-tip glasses. “It really wasn’t anything much, Mrs. Sugar. Trixie was happy to help. And thank you for the dinner.”
To be honest, the show had gone off rather well. True, Trixie was nowhere as prepared as she had been when she had a full wagon of tricks to pull from, but she thought she had done a reasonably good job. The younger foals had been in awe of her prestidigitation, particularly when she had pulled a little filly’s stuffed bear from out of her hat. The older colts hadn’t been impressed until she managed to pull off an impromptu disappearing act using nothing more than her cape, a conjured smoke cloud, a judiciously placed covered table and a bit of ventriloquism.
The cheers and applause, however, had been more than welcome. It’d been a long time since she’d gotten that much applause from one of her acts. Not to mention during dinner the foals and fillies had swarmed her with adoring eyes and curious questions. 
“Mrs. Sugar, if you’d excuse us?” Fancy Pants smiled to the elderly mare, a hoof gently touching her snowy-coated withers. “I have some business to discuss with Trixie before she leaves.”
“Oh! Of course. I’ll excuse myself then. Have a good night.”
Fancy smiled fondly as the old mare toddled off, then glanced back to Trixie. “Well, it looks like you made quite an impression.”
“Trixie supposes so.” The showmare shrugged and adjusted her cape. “Trixie has had better performances, really.”
“If that’s so, then I’d have liked to see them. You had those foals all but eating out of your hoof.”
Trixie blushed, then shook her head and settled her hat onto her head. “Trixie is flattered. However, it would be best if we discussed payment. The moon’s already beginning to rise, and Trixie would like to return home before it becomes too cold.”
“Ah, yes. I apologize. I hadn’t meant to keep you this long.” Fancy chuckled, his horn lighting up as he drew out a checkbook. “How much is it?”
“One hundred bits per hour is Trixie’s standard fee for a show like this.”
“Two hundred bits then? Mm.” Fancy nodded, pulling out a silver fountain pen from his pocket and quickly filled out the check book. “Your full name?”
The showmare‘s lips twisted slightly. “Trixie Lulamoon.”
“Lulamoon?“ Fancy blinked. “Any relation to Mystica Lu-”
“Yes. And I’d rather not talk about it if that‘s okay with you.” Trixie’s reply was curt and harsh.
“Alright. Very well.“ He gently blew on the paper to dry the ink, then ripped off the check and floated it to Trixie. “Would this do?”
Trixie stared at the paper. “Um… it seems that you accidentally added an additional zero. And misspelled ‘hundred‘.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“But… but…”
“Consider it an advance.” Fancy tucked the check into the brim of Trixie’s hat as the mare gaped at him. “Of course, I’d also like to offer another proposition.”
She glanced up at the check, pulling it free from her hat and staring at it before turning back to him, “You have my undivided attention.”
“I’m going to be opening up a small theatre in Canterlot. It’s hardly the Royal Opera House, but it’s sizable enough to seat a few hundred. And it just so happens I’m looking for somepony to serve as the first act… and maybe work as a stage manager.”
Trixie’s jaw hung low in disbelief. “And… you want Trixie to perform there? In Canterlot?!”
“Of course. You’ll have a small apartment backstage if you take the job, plus a small stipend and benefits. And of course, if you perform you’ll be paid your standard rate per show. Who knows; you might catch somepony’s eye from Los Pegasus…”
Despite herself, Trixie let out a giddy little whinny. The offer was too good to be true; a proper stage instead of a traveling wagon, a proper theater in Canterlot of all places, steady money, and the possibility of finally getting her name in lights. She could end up being the next Blackstone the Great, or Shetland and Roan, or…
And you said I’d never be a star, mom. Take that and shove it up your- 
“So,” Fancy interrupted her train of thought, “do you think you might be interested?”
“Yes! I-I mean,” Trixie blushed, then coughed and lifted her nose. She couldn’t look too enthusiastic, after all. Not to mention she had to keep a clear head. “Trixie would be more than happy to oblige. However, she’ll want to see something in writing first before she commits. I hope you understand, but Trixie just wants to make sure this isn’t some pie-in-the-sky fantasy, after all.”
“Of course. I’ll have a contract drawn up for you.”
“Trixie also hopes you won’t mind if she secures some legal assistance?”
“Of course not. I’d be surprised if you didn’t. Now, I‘ll be staying in Manehattan for a few days. When would you like to meet to discuss the terms?”

---

“Everypony, I’ve got some news!”
Trixie was grinning wildly as she pushed open the door of the apartment, the smell of cooking food from the kitchenette wafting through the air to greet her. The quarters Trixie shared with the Wolkenritter were hardly spacious; Signum and Shamal shared the small living room, while Vita and Zafira slept in the smaller bedroom with her. At that moment, however, all four of her assistants were gathered in the living room.
“Mistress, where were you?” Shamal asked concernedly, turning off the stove with one hoof and trotting around the small counter. “We were getting worried when you didn’t come home in time for dinner…”
“Sorry, sorry,” Trixie blushed. “I should have contacted you via magic but…”
“But what?” Zafira asked.
Trixie let out a loud giggle and pulled off her hat, producing the check. “Take a look at this!”
Signum hmmed, drawing the check over to her and inspecting it. “Royal Bank of Equestria,” she read, “Pay to Trixie Lulamoon, Two Thousand Bits…”
“Two THOUSAND?!” The other three’s voices raised in a loud shout.
Trixie giggled like a schoolfilly. “It looks like our luck is finally changing for the better! And it doesn’t stop there. I’ve been offered a job at a theater in Canterlot!”
“Congratulations Mistress!” Shamal cheered as Trixie bounced up and down.
“Are you sure about this, Mistress?” Signum floated the check over to Trixie, a frown on her lips. “This does seem a bit too good to be true.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Trixie waved a hoof, “Trixie is not a complete foal Signum. I’m going in there armed with a lawyer when we talk about the contract…”
“And this?” Signum flapped the check gently.
“That’s a Royal Bank of Equestria check,” Trixie replied. “Those things are issued from Canterlot and magically enchanted. If it was going to bounce, then it would have simply went up in a puff of smoke. So yeah, it‘s the real deal.”
“So…” Vita looked up at Trixie from her spot on the floor, “does this mean we’re going to pay the rent on time?”
“Not only are we going to make the rent, my darling little assistant, but we’re going to have a proper Hearth’s Warming Eve, AND have enough left over to spare! I’ll even buy you that toy rab-” Trixie blinked as she looked at the small lump of cloth held in Vita’s front hooves. “Vita? Where’d you get that?”
Vita pouted as Shamal blushed. “Um… she found it after you left this morning.”
Trixie sighed. “That was supposed to be your Hearth’s Warming gift…”
“Sorry.” Vita blushed, hugging the very crudely made stuffed rabbit.
“That’s okay. I knew I should have hid it before I left. But don’t worry; tomorrow, we’re going to go shopping and I’ll buy you that-”
“If it’s okay with you, Mistress,” Vita interrupted shyly, “I’d… rather keep this one.”
Trixie blinked, then blushed and scuffed a hoof on the ground. “Well… if that’s what you’d prefer, then alright. However!” Trixie grinned widely. “The fact still remains that we’re going clothes shopping tomorrow after I cash this. After all, it’d hardly do for my assistants to not look their best. Consider it an early Hearth’s Warming gift from me.”
“Mistress, there’s no need-” Signum began, only for Trixie to make a shooing motion with one hoof.
“Nonsense. I’m your boss, remember? I take care of you, you take care of me. And right now, your boss wants to make sure you look the part.”
“I hate to interrupt this happy moment,” Zafira growled, “but does anyone else smell something burning?”
“AHH! The food!” Shamal squealed as she rushed over to the oven. “I left the burner on high!”
“At least nothing caught fire this time,” Zafira grumbled.

---

“So the next day, I cashed the check. I think Signum was surprised we actually got the money.” Trixie chuckled softly. “And after that, we went window shopping.”
“Window shopping?”
“Well, as it turned out,” Trixie smirked at Shamal, “My Knights had a lot of tricks they had neglected to tell me about.”

---

“Armor?”
“Correct.” Signum replied as the four of them walked through the store, bypassing the salesponies as they looked at the dresses and saddles on display. “Truthfully, buying clothing is unnecessary for us. All we require is that you provide us with a design for our armor. Our magic will do the rest.”
“Not so loud Sig- er, Sword Dancer,” Shamal whispered furtively. “We don’t want anypony to overhear us.”
“You know, Trixie groused, “you’re making it very difficult for me to treat you, you know that? You don’t need food, you don’t need clothing, you don’t need a lot of things us frail, mortal ponies need. It‘s starting to get irritating.”
“I apologize for our condition, M- Trixie,” Signum replied with a straight face. “Profusely.”
“Why do you need armor anyway? It’s not like I plan on having you fight anypony.” Trixie grumbled, rubbing her brow. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“It wasn’t relevant to the situation until now. Had you asked before now, I would have explained it to you.”
Trixie quirked an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
“Correct.”
“Ugh… alright.” Trixie grumbled, glancing over at the dresses. “I suppose you’re not particularly interested in all this then.”
“Um… I am, M- Trixie.” Shamal blushed as she looked over at the dresses. “A lot of these are really pretty…”
“Hey Trixie!” Vita called out, trotting over as she carried a brilliant red and black dress with a frilly skirt. “Take a look at this one. Can I have it?”
“Vita,” Signum said reproachfully. “That dress is sized for an adult.”
“So?”
“You’re… not an adult.”
“So?”
Signum just looked at her, then looked over to Shamal. “Ahem… ‘Swan,’ would you mind explaining to our young friend why getting that dress is a bad idea?”
Swan as too busy trying not to giggle, which drew an irritated look from the stocky unicorn.
Trixie hmmed, looking between the three of them. “Okay girls, how about this. Instead of giving you guys armor, which is really kind of boring and pointless, how about I design clothes for you? Admittedly, I’m not all that good at sewing, but if I just have to design them then I’ll certainly give it a shot. That way, I can make everypony happy.”
“That would be acceptable, Trixie,” Signum replied. Shamal nodded as well.
“And in return,” Trixie continued, “You’re going to teach me how to do this spell of yours… alright?”
“That would also be acceptable.”
“Okay. But I want my outfit to look like this.” Vita pointed to the dress hovering beside her.
“Right. Red, black, and very frilly. Got it.”
“And I want a hat. A cool one.”
“Sure.”
“A hat with bunnies on it.”
Trixie blinked. “Bunnies?”
Vita pouted. “What? I like bunnies. Bunnies are cute. And small. And bite really hard when you make them mad.”
“Thank you for explaining your kinship with them,” Signum remarked dryly.
“Hey!”
“Right. Bunnies.” Trixie hmmed, then smirked. “I wonder if there’s a comic book store nearby. Zafira’s going to need something too…”

---

“Trixie will admit, she never did get a chance to fully master that spell,” Trixie noted irritably. 
“Well, there is a bit of difference between how you do magic and how we do magic, Mistress,” Shamal replied.
“I hate to interrupt,” Fancy Pants looked to Shamal, “but I really am curious. How is it you’re able to perform unicorn magic? You said your appearance is just a disguise… so how are you able to move things with your horn?”
“Well,” Shamal blushed, “as best I can describe it, we’re simply using low grade field spells to mimic telekinesis. It’s a bit power-intensive, but achieves the same effect. Signum’s much better at it than Vita or I. She was the one who provided most of the movement when Vita was disguised as Trixie, since she had better control and their magical colors almost matched.”
“Ah. I see.”
“At any rate,” Trixie interrupted, “we should probably skip over the boring stuff. You already know all about the contracts and the lawyering.”
“Indeed, and now we arrive at the most important business,” Fancy Pants said, leaning in closer. “The incident which led to your current predicament. I’m assuming that this occurred after the five of you arrived in Canterlot.”
“Yes,” Trixie replied, then closed her eyes. “After we finalized the contracts and enjoyed Hearth’s Warming Eve in Manehattan, we moved house to Canterlot. That’s where you had our new home set up.”
“I had to admit, I didn’t expect all five of you to stay in that little apartment together,” Fancy Pants shook his head. “But I suppose it worked out well enough, all things considered.”
“It was a bit of a tight squeeze,” Shamal blushed. “Especially when we were setting things up for opening.”
“That’s when it started happening.” Trixie said, shivering slightly. Shamal looked to the unicorn, then slipped her arms about the mare’s neck. “It was slow at first. Barely noticeable. Sometimes my magic wouldn’t be able to lift something as heavy as it used to. Or I’d blank out when trying to plan a pyrotechnic arrangement or when I was teaching Vita something. At first, I thought it was just stress. After all, this was a golden opportunity; everything had to be perfect.”
“But when it didn’t stop,” Trixie shuddered, “I started getting worried. I did my best to hide it from the others, but I couldn’t keep it hidden for long. Not when…”
Trixie swallowed and drew closer to Shamal. “Not when my Cutie Mark started to disappear…”

---

Trixie stared at herself. She was standing in profile in the bathroom mirror, her hoof trembling as she touched the fur on her flank.
Normally, an adult pony’s flank bore a Cutie Mark, a symbol of their special talent and aptitude. Ever since early elementary, Trixie’s flank had been marked by a distinct symbol; a pale blue wand topped with a five-pointed star, a bright blue, sparkle-studded crescent trailing from the tip. It was a sign, a symbol of her dedication to the magician’s art and a source of enormous pride for the unicorn.
But now, the mark was… faded. It looked like somepony had taken a low-grade pencil eraser to her hindquarters with the intent on rubbing the mark out. The once sharp borders were blurry, and the crescent seemed to merge with the color of her coat.
Trixie had never felt so afraid in her entire life. She had performed before hostile crowds, faced down the disapproval of her mother, stared into the jaws of an Ursa Minor and had been threatened with enslavement by the Diamond Dogs. But compared to this, those prior events seemed like a dull memory.
Trixie quivered and slowly turned to face the mirror. Staring into her own terrified eyes didn’t help matters much.
“This is a dream,” she whispered softly as she closed her eyes. “This is just a dream. I’m going to count to ten, then turn around, and it’s going to be back to normal. One…”
Trixie counted slowly, nodding and breathing deeply between each count. When she reached ten, she opened her eyes and looked back. 
Nothing had changed.
“…My vision must be blurry. Y-yeah. Just blurry from waking up. I‘ll just… just wash up,” Trixie said to herself desperately. She reached up, pushing on the tap and letting the water run into the basin. She leaned in and, with one hoof, splashed water into her face. She then rubbed her face with both hooves and opened her eyes, giving her reflection a pleading look. Things certainly seemed sharper. And then, she looked back
Nothing had changed.
“No… no… nononoNO!” Trixie cried out. She concentrated, a thin ribbon of pinkish light running up her horn as she tried to call on her magic. The glow of her horn was as dim and weak as a half-dead light bulb.
“NO!”
There was a loud rattle at the doorknob that made Trixie jump. 
“Mistress?!” Zafira’s voice boomed from the opposite side of the door. “What’s going on? I heard a scream. Are you alright?!”
“Z-Zafira?!”
Other voices soon joined his.
“Zafira, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know General. Mistress, open the door!”
“No!” Trixie scrambled back from the door. “Don’t come in here! Go away!”
“Mistress, please,” Shamal pleaded, “open the door! If you’re hurt-”
“I don’t want you to see this! Please… please just go away!”
“Mistress, please, just calm down,” Signum said as the rattling of the doorknob stopped. “Whatever the problem is, we can help you with it.”
“No you can’t… not this… oh Celestia, please let this be a dream…”
“Mistress, it is our duty to help you. You care for us, we care for you. That was the stricture you laid down.”
Trixie whimpered softly, slowly sitting down on the edge of the tub.
“Okay. That’s it. I’m going to break the door down. Stand back everybody.”
“Vita, no. There’s a better way. Shamal?”
There was a soft hum as a familiar blue-green portal opened across the door. A slender, be-ringed hand reached through, then calmly undid the lock before returning back the way it came. The door then slammed open as Vita kicked it open and rushed through.

---

“What’s happening to me, Shamal?”
Trixie did her best not to let her nerves creep into her voice as she sat on the couch, Shamal at her side. The knight’s rings were glowing, a small sphere of light hovering before her as light traced over her body. Her other three assistants were seated before her in a row in their human shapes. Their silence alone would have been enough to make Trixie nervous.
The fact that Shamal looked frightened only made it worse.
Trixie shifted about nervously before looking back to Shamal. “I asked you a question. What’s. Happening. To. Me? I want an answer.”
Shamal closed her eyes, the spell winking out as she lowered her head. “It’s… it’s not good, Mistress. I…”
“Please…” Trixie whispered, looking at them. “I want to know…”
“It’s your Linker Core. It’s being…” Shamal took a deep breath before continuing. “It’s weakening. Quickly.”
Trixie felt the blood drain out of her head, her body swaying slowly. “My Linker Core? You mean… my magic? But why? What could be doing it?”
“Mistress,” Signum said softly, “it is possible that this is our fault.”
Trixie froze as Signum spoke. “What? How? How could… I don’t…. what?”
“We have neglected our duties to the Book,” Signum continued, her head bowed. “At your order, we have refrained from filling the pages of the Book of Darkness. We have obeyed your command. However…”
“However?”
“The Book still seeks to be complete. And it will do so by any means necessary.”
“The Book of Darkness is connected to you, Mistress,” Shamal added. “and… it is likely that the Book is drawing on your magic in lieu of its completion.”
Trixie‘s mouth went dry as she looked from one face to another, butterflies fluttering against the walls of her stomach. “But… but what’s going to happen to me when I don’t have any more magic? What happens then?!”
“The consequences… will likely be fatal.”
Trixie stared at Signum. “Can you stop it?”
“I… I don’t know.” Signum replied.
“You don’t know?!”
“No, Mistress… I-”
“Why don’t you know?! Do you know Shamal? Vita? Zafira?! ANY OF YOU?!” Trixie’s voice shot up an octave as she screamed, causing Shamal to flinch. “This is your stupid book, and you’re telling me you can’t do ANYTHING?!”
“Mistress, please, calm down…”
“I’m not going to calm down! My magic… my Cutie Mark… my talent is being drained away! Look!” Trixie turned sideways on the couch, pointing to her faded mark. “Look at it! Do you expect me to be calm about this?!”
None of the Wolkenritter responded, Trixie glared at them, one after another as tears dripped down from her eyes. When they didn’t respond, Trixie buried her face into the fabric of the sofa.
“Did Trixie do something wrong?” Her question came out in a sob. “Did Trixie make a mistake in a past life? Is there some curse on Trixie that makes it so she can never be happy?!”
“Mistress?” Trixie felt Vita’s small hand rest on her withers. “Is there anything we can do for you?”
“Just…just leave Trixie alone.” Trixie whimpered softly. “Just leave me be.”
“As you wish, Mistress,” Signum replied.
Trixie could hear their feet thump gently against the floor as they walked, followed by the door shutting with a thump. Trixie sniffled, rubbing her eyes as she lifted her head, only to find herself looking in Zafira’s direction.
“I thought I said I wanted to be left alone,” she croaked, wiping her nose with a sniff. “I don’t want anypony to see me like this.”
“You did, Mistress. However, given your current condition, Signum felt it would be inadvisable to leave you completely alone. Besides,” Zafira lifted one hand, “Vita told me to give you this.”
Trixie sniffled and looked at the lumpy plush bunny nestled in Zafira’s hand. “D-did she now?”
Zafira nodded, reaching over and dropping the toy into Trixie’s hooves. “I believe she said, ‘Give her Mister Bunny. She needs him more than I do right now.’”
The unicorn gently hugged the plush to her chest and shuddered slightly, before burying her face into its terrycloth ears. A flash of blue-white light leaked in through the crevice between her muzzle and the stuffed toy, causing her to look up. Zafira growled softly, the great blue and white wolf climbing up onto the couch and laying near her, his tail slowly swishing.
“I must look awful,” Trixie aid weakly, still gently hugging the stuffed rabbit as she looked at Zafira.
“A bit. But then, fear does that to most.”
Trixie frowned. “T-trixie is not afraid…”
“Is that so?”
The unicorn smirked weakly, though her heart wasn’t in it. “Trixie is just angry that this has happened, okay? This is just… just a minor setback. An inconvenience. A nuisance. Isn’t that right? Ha ha…”
Zafira seemed unimpressed. “Your scent says otherwise, Mistress.”
Trixie sighed softly and irritably. “Okay. I’m scared. I bet that must disappoint you. Having a coward like me for a Mistress.”
“What makes you say that you‘re a coward?” The great wolf tilted his head slightly.
“Because I’m not a Knight like you and the others,” Trixie replied. “I’m not brave. I’m not a warrior. I don’t really like staring down the prospect of certain death. Right now, I’m only barely keeping myself from breaking down and giving up…”
Zafira rumbled softly and nuzzled her gently, then looked at her with those large, ruby-red eyes. “Mistress, there is nothing wrong with fear. Every living thing feels fear. And that includes us.”
“Really?”
Zafira nodded. “We’re afraid for you too. Signum might not show it, but if you asked Vita and Shamal, they’d admit it. But it‘s what you do when faced with fear that determines if you‘re brave or cowardly.”
“Well… at least we’re all scared together, right?” Trixie let out a weak laugh, scooting close and nuzzling into Zafira’s fur.
Zafira let her rest against her for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Mistress?”
“Yes, Zafira?”
“If the Book is draining your core because we have not been filling its pages… then perhaps we should do just that.”
Trixie turned away. “You mean if you do your old job, then all of this will stop?”
“Perhaps. I don’t know. I’m simply a Guardian Beast summoned to do your will.” Zafira’s ears flattened as he climbed off the couch, pacing around to face her again. “But if this continues… Mistress, I think I may speak for the others when I say this; losing you would be unforgivable.”
Trixie let out a soft laugh. “Is Trixie really that precious to you? Your standards must be awfully skewed.”
“Perhaps, but the offer remains.” Zafira took a seat before her and closed his eyes. There was a flash of purple and black energy as the Book of Darkness appeared, hovering before Trixie under its own power. “Give us the order.”
Trixie frowned at Zafira, then looked at the book. Her hooves reached out and touched the cover, running over the smooth golden cross that decorated its front. “Are you really willing to do this for me? Hurt others for me?”
“Yes.”
“Including other ponies?”
Zafira paused, then nodded. “If that is what it takes, then yes.”
“So you’d inflict this on other ponies? What happens if they get drained? What happens to their talents? Their cutie marks?”
When Zafira didn’t reply, Trixie set the book onto the table and gave the wolf a level glare. “I thought so. Don’t ever bring this up again. Ever. Do you hear me, Zafira?”
“But Mistress-”
“Not. Ever. And you can tell the other three that as well. We’ll find another way to fix this. Got it?”
“As you wish, Mistress.”
“Good.” Trixie frowned, still staring at the Book. The tome seemed to taunt her, light gleaming along its surface.
She was going to have to do something about this. She was the only one.
I’m the Great and Powerful Trixie, she thought to herself as her hoof stroked Zafira’s ear. And if the Wolkenritter can’t stop what’s happening, then I’ll have to do it myself.
Her hooves moved over as she picked up the book. One hoof tried to flip the cover open, but it didn’t budge.
“Come on, open up… stupid thing…”
“Mistress?”

---

“So, why didn’t you go to a doctor?”
Trixie sighed as Shamal lowered the glass of water from her lips, the pitcher that had been left beside the couch half full. “Trixie honestly didn’t know if that would help. How many cases of a unicorn losing their magic and cutie mark have you ever heard of? Besides… Trixie thought that there was a simple solution to the problem.”
Fancy Pants quirked an eyebrow. “A simple solution to losing your cutie mark?”
“The Book of Darkness was doing this to me,” Trixie replied. “I was its Mistress. I owned the stupid thing. And… well, let’s just say I thought I could convince it to do my bidding.”
“That’s… possibly the most reckless thing you could have probably done, to put it lightly.”
“Trixie will admit, she didn’t quite think her plan through fully. But desperate times called for desperate action.”

---

“Mistress, stop!”
Trixie did her best to ignore Zafira as she dropped the book onto the table, letting it land on its spine as she pushed her hooves against the pages. She pried against the lips of the covers, trying to push the book open.
“What in the Kaiser’s name are you trying to do?!” The wolf’s body glowed as he shifted, a pair of large, dark-skinned hands gripping her forelimbs as she gritted her teeth.
“What does it look like?” Trixie’s voice was harsh as she tried to pry the tome open, her limbs pushing against both the book and Zafira’s grip. “I’m not going to let a stupid book push me around. I’m in charge here!”
“Mistress, this is a bad idea. The Book is dangerous! It hasn’t fully accepted you as its master!” Zafira’s grip tightened. “If you try to force it to do something, its defenses might activate!”
“Let go of me Zafira, that is an order!”
Trixie felt Zafira go stiff and his hands relax from the command. She clenched her teeth harder as she summoned up her magic. The Book of Darkness floated up before her, held in a flickering pink aura of light as she glared at it.
“I know you can hear me,” Trixie hissed at the book. “I don’t speak whatever language you use, but I know you can hear and understand me. I am your Mistress. You chose me, right?”
The book didn’t reply.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Trixie inhaled, then glared and concentrated, her eyes narrowed as her voice took on a commanding tone. “I, the Great and Powerful Trixie, command you to release your hold on my Linker Core!”
No response.
“I, The Great and Powerful Trixie, in the name of the powers of darkness, command you to obey me! Heed my words, oh ancient tome, and fulfill my demand!”
“Mistress,” Zafira warned. “Stop this. I beg of you!”
“Silence, Zafira,” Trixie snapped, her eyes focused on her target. “Fine, you don’t want to do what I say? Then let’s do this the hard way!”
Trixie took a deep breath and pulled up what little magic she had left, then thrust it into the book. A pink tether of light lashed out, stabbing into the cross on the book’s cover. Truth be told, Trixie had little practice with magic outside of her stagecraft, but she did know a few spells for dealing with magical devices. Of course, most of them were things like refrigerators and magical heating elements, but the basic mechanisms were the same.
“Give me back my magic you stupid book!”
Trixie felt her eyes widen as she felt something respond. The Book of Darkness began to glow an ominous black and purple as its cover snapped open, its pages flipping rapidly.
“ACHTUNG.” A mechanical, feminine voice announced. “EINDRINGVERSUCH ENTDECKT! SIE SIND NICHT BERECHTIGT. INITIIERENDE VERGELTUNG.”
There was a loud crack as Trixie’s spell was snapped cleanly in half. Her eyes went wide as black lightning began to crackle across the surface of the page.
“Mistress!” Zafira shouted, grabbing the pony and yanking her off the couch. “Run!”
“ANFANG.”
There was a loud thunderclap and a great blast of wind that sent papers and small objects flying about the room. Zafira thrust a hand out towards the book as a thick tendril of blackness streaked towards Trixie. A triangular Panzerschild sprang up to meet it, causing Zafira to skid backwards.
The shield held for all of five seconds before it shattered. The tentacle slashed through Zafira’s body, scoring across his upper thigh and along his midsection and sending him sprawling across the ground with a roar of pain. The tendril whipped towards Trixie, wrapping about her neck and lifting her of the ground.
Three more tentacles emerged from the book as Trixie wriggled, her front hooves pressed against the appendage holding her. She let out a cry of pain as one tendril stabbed through her chest, then slowly emerged carrying a small pinkish pinpoint of light.
“SAMMELN.”
The world went colorless and silent for Trixie. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart fluttered in her ears like a drunken hummingbird. She could see Zafira leap at the tendril, only to be slammed aside. She could see the door to the apartment crack open, as though struck with a hammer…
She felt her eyes slowly close as her body grew warm. And, as though she was dozing off, she fell into oblivion.

---

“That’s when we found her,” Shamal said quietly. “I’ll take things from here, Mistress.”

---

“Mistress!” Vita shouted as the door finally gave way.
Shamal stumbled through alongside Signum, only to feel her body go cold. The apartment was a disaster; everything was scattered about or tossed aside like debris from a whirlwind.
At the center of it all was the Book of Darkness, which fell and landed on the ground with a loud thump. Their Mistress, Trixie, did much the same, her body limp as she landed. Zafira laid against one wall, smoke coiling from his side and leg as he groaned.
“MISTRESS!!”
Shamal moved on instinct, quickly jumping to Trixie’s side as Signum snapped out orders.
“Vita, help Shamal!” Signum quickly strode over to Zafira and knelt beside him, an arm going around his back as she supported him. “Zafira, what happened?!”
“I…” Zafira gasped in pain, “I tried… to warn… her…”
Shamal tried to tune the other voices out as she checked over Trixie’s body. “Oh Kaiser, she’s barely breathing. Klarwind, help me!”
Green light flooded from her rings as she invoked her healing spells, weaving the strands of mana over Trixie’s quivering form. Her breathing was shallow and inconsistent, and her heart was fluttering weakly in her chest.
“Zafira,” Signum snapped. “can you stand?”
“I failed…”
“CAN YOU STAND?” Signum’s voice was that of a General’s once again, causing Zafira’s ears to flatten.”
“Yes… General…” He started to rise up, then let out a shout of pain. “Argh!”
“Lean on me. Now, what happened?”
“The Book…” Zafira panted. “I tried to warn her… about its defenses…”
Their conversation was interrupted by a loud, gargled groan from the unconscious unicorn. “Shamal,” Signum snapped, “what’s happening to her?!”
“I don’t know Signum!” Shamal replied in panic. “My healing spell isn’t work-”
Trixie spasmed, her body shuddering violently.
“Oh Kaiser, she’s seizing! Vita, roll her onto her side! Get something under her head! Hurry!”
Vita did as she was ordered. Trixie rolled limply onto her side, a pillow from the couch pushed under her head as she shuddered again and again. Magic flowed across Trixie’s body as she pressed her hands against Trixie’s ribcage. She could only barely feel Trixie’s heartbeat.
“DO SOMETHING SHAMAL!” Vita was in tears as she screamed. “SHE’S DYING!”
“I’m trying, Vita, I’m trying!” Shamal was little better. She ground her teeth as Klarwind’s pendulums extended, sliding around Trixie’s prone form. “Oh Kaiser, please let this work. Please let this work!”
There was a loud crack as Shamal threw every ounce of magic she had into Trixie. The pony’s body was suffused with a green radiance as Shamal cried out, smoke leaking out from under Klarwind’s golden bands from the stress.
Slowly, however, Trixie’s shuddering began to calm and stop, and her breathing began to grow regular. Shamal slumped onto her side, the wires retracting and the gems returning to her rings.
“Is she…” Vita whispered.
“N-no…” Shamal panted, her face slick with sweat. “She’s… she’s not dead… it took everything I had, but… but she’s not dead.”
“Shamal,” Signum said quietly, her face like a mask of stone, “status report.”
“I’m… I’ve exhausted my magic… General. Permission to rest?”
“Permission granted. Vita, carry the Mistress into the bedroom and monitor her for any changes.”

---

Night fell.
The darkness outside matched the mood of those within that small apartment. Signum leaned against the wall, brooding, while Vita and Zafira sat together on the couch. Though they had cleaned up the apartment, the faint scent of ozone and smoke that lingered suggested that not all was well. Nor did the tattered remains of the stuffed rabbit that Vita gripped in her hands.
A soft click drew their attention to the door as Shamal stepped out of the bedroom, her head lowered as she walked. She lowered herself down onto the couch, taking a seat beside Vita.
For a while, none of them spoke, until Shamal broke the silence.
“It’s gone.”
The other three turned to look at her as she covered her face. “Her Linker Core is gone. I can’t feel it… all I feel in its place is darkness…”
“How is she still alive?” Vita looked up to Shamal. “If she doesn’t have a Linker Core, then why is she still-”
“I… I don’t know.” Shamal shook her head. “I’ve never seen this happen before. By all rights, she should be dead. And yet…”
“Can’t you do something, Shamal?” Vita leaned in, a hand in Shamal’s lap as her expression became one of desperation. “You’re our medic, right?! Can’t you fix her?”
“Vita, this is beyond even my magic. I’m not even sure how I managed to stabilize her in the first place!” Shamal broke eye-contact with Vita. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else I can do.”
“Dammit!” Vita slammed a fist into the couch cushion. “We shouldn’t have left! We should have stayed with her…”
“It’s not your fault, Vita.” Zafira said quietly. “I failed in my duty to protect her. I should have done more to stop her, even against her orders.”
“You know as well as I do that there’s little we can do to resist a direct order from our Mistress,” Signum replied quietly, standing up from her spot on the wall. Her footsteps thumped quietly as she walked forwards, coming to stand before her three subordinates. “You did your best given the strictures of her command.”
Zafira snorted dismissively. “That’s little comfort now, General, but thank you.”
“What do we do now?” Shamal looked up at Signum.
“The Book has harmed our Mistress,” Signum replied. “However, she is not yet dead. If she were, the Book would have already activated. Therefore, it still must recognize her in some way. If we were to complete the Book of Darkness, then it will fully recognize Trixie as its Mistress. The Book will not harm her then.”
Three sets of eyes looked up at her.
“But… Signum, that goes against her orders! We’re not supposed to-”
“Do we have enough time? That many pages-”
“Defying the will of our Mistress-”
Signum raised a hand, silencing them. “As General of the Wolkenritter, I am exercising my authority in this case. We must hunt. We were ordered to forget completing the book. We were not, however, ordered to never make the attempt.”
Vita stared up at her. “I thought I’d never see the day when Signum, General of the Blazing Flame, would defy the spirit of her master’s command like that.”
“It is the first time that such an act is necessary, Vita.” Signum crossed her arms. “I will take full responsibility for our actions from here on out. What say you? Are you willing to defy our Mistress to save her?”
There was a pause, then Vita, Shamal and Zafira rose to their feet. Vita and Zafira stepped to either side, the four of them forming a rough circle.
“If we must defy her will to save her, then so be it.” Zafira said quietly, cracking his knuckles. “I will not fail her a second time.”
“As a healer and support mage, I cannot allow our Mistress to come to further harm,” Shamal added, raising a hand so that Klarwind’s jewels caught the light. “I will do what I must.”
“I don’t plan on killing anyone,” Vita growled, reaching into her dress and pulling out the little hammer-shaped pendant that served as Graf Eisen’s Stand By form. “But anything else is fair game, got it?”
Signum nodded, producing her own talisman; a tiny, diamond-bladed dagger no bigger than her thumb-tip suspended on a chain. “Then we are in agreement?” She sighed as the other three nodded, then closed her eyes. “Mistress Trixie, I pray that you forgive us our trespass when you wake.”
Four triangles of light, filled with Belkan runes and the distinctive four-pointed cross, formed beneath their feet. Light flowed up their bodies, forming into clothing that Trixie had designed for them, though Signum and Zafira‘s garments now sported gleaming silver gauntlets, bracers and boots. Laevatein and Graf Eisen expanded into their true forms, assembling in flashes of red light and clouds of purple embers.
“In your name and for your sake,” Signum, General of the Blazing Flame and Leader of the Wolkenritter, proclaimed, “we Wolkenritter hunt once more.”

---

Trixie didn’t look at Shamal as she finished her tale. Fancy Pants, meanwhile, was looking at her over the curve of his clasped hooves.
“Why didn’t you four look for help?” Fancy asked quietly. “Why the deception? Why hide?”
“We knew that the second anyone found out about Trixie, it would only be a matter of time before the authorities would start looking for us. That‘s why we did our best to keep Trixie‘s condition under wraps.” Shamal explained. “It’s also why we confined our activities to Equestria at first. We acted quietly, hunting creatures that could provide us with magic: dragons and monsters and such. It went well enough, until Vita attacked Twilight Sparkle.”
“That idiot,” Trixie murmured.
“She was doing it for your sake, Mistress,” Shamal objected, before she sighed and ducked her head. “We didn’t even know Twilight was involved with the Bureau until the humans showed up to defend her. Once they got involved… well, we had to draw attention away from Equestria. So we started attacking other worlds. And… well, you know the rest.”
“So I do.”
“I hate to break this up,” Trixie yawned and shook herself, “but it’s gotten rather late. Do you mind if I go to bed?”
“Hmm?” Fancy Pants glanced over towards the ticking clock, then sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t realize what time it was. I think we’re finished here. It’d probably be wise for you two to get some sleep.”
“Thank you.” Shamal nodded, her body glowing as she shapeshifted in her equine guise. “Mistress, I’ll walk you back to your room.”
“Thank you, Shamal.” Trixie groaned, sliding off the couch and stretching her legs. “Good night, Fancy Pants.”
“Good night.”

---

Trixie sighed as she laid down on the soft bed, her head cradled by the plush pillows as Shamal pulled the sheets over her prone form.
“Do you need anything else, Mistress?” Shamal asked, looking at her concernedly. “Anything at all?”
“Not really. I’m just exhausted. It’s been a while since I’ve talked that much.” Trixie smirked slightly.
“Y-yes, it has.”
Trixie sighed, rolling onto her side to face Shamal. Neither pony spoke for a little while before Trixie closed her eyes.
“Mistress?”
“Mmm?”
“I’m just curious… a-and don’t take this the wrong way, but…”
Trixie opened one eye. “Yes?”
“How are you alive?”
Trixie opened both eyes and slowly sat up as Shamal looked at her. “I mean… I couldn’t feel your Linker Core. There was nothing there. And yet… you’re still alive. How?”
“Shamal… I…” Trixie frowned, glancing over to the Book, then back to her. “I think I need to tell you something. About what I saw while I was asleep.”

---
Meanwhile…
---

“Your continued failure is most disappointing.”
Though the meeting room was cool, Admiral Graham felt a few beads of sweat trickle down the back of his neck. He could almost feel the malice coming through the communication link, the three red Roman numerals that represented the members of the TSAB’s High Council glowing almost ominously.
“With all due respect, members of the High Council,” he replied, “the operation has so far been successful.”
“Indeed,” a second voice replied, “your team has indeed captured three of the Wolkenritter.”
“However,” a third spoke, “you are no closer to acquiring the Book of Darkness. Worse, the Wolkenritter remain in the hands of the Equestrians.”
“There may have been a minor setback, true,” Graham replied, “but nothing more. I just need a little more time to negotiate for their transfer to our possession. I’m sure the Princesses will see reason.”
“Time is not on your side, Admiral Graham.”
“The longer the Book of Darkness remains outside our grasp, Admiral Graham, the more likely it is it will fall into their hands.”
“And we cannot allow that to happen, Admiral Graham. We will not risk a Lost Logia of such strength falling into the hands of a non-human power.”
“Begging the High Council’s pardon,” Graham adjusted his collar, “but these are hardly ideal circumstances. I am doing the best with what I have access to.”
“And you are failing.”
“Failing miserably.”
“Failing in your duty to us, Admiral Graham.”
“We do not abide well with failure.”
“Nor do we tolerate those who do fail.”
“The Book must not remain with the Equestrians.”
“I understand, but this is a very delicate situation. Diplomacy often is.” Graham rested his palms on the table and took a deep breath. “Please. I need more time.”
“You have two days.”
Graham’s eyes went wide. “Two days?!”
“Indeed. You have two days to acquire the Book and the Wolkenritter from the Equestrians.”
“After which, our primary contingency plan will be initiated.”
“Contingency?!” Graham stood from his seat. “What contingency? I wasn’t aware of something like this! What contingency?!”
The High Council told him.
Graham felt the blood leave his head. He felt faint. “That’s… that’s insane. That’s monstrous! I’ll have no part in this lunacy!”
“Your lot has already been cast, Admiral Graham,” the first member spoke.
“Your part is already being played,” the second member spoke.
“You will do as ordered. Refuse, and there will be consequences,” the third member warned.
“Or do you not care what happens to the girl?”
Graham staggered slightly, leaning on the table. “No. Please. She has no part in this. Leave her be.”
“It seems he does care.” The second chuckled.
“Quite a great deal.” The third laughed.
“Fulfill your duty, Admiral Graham,” the first concluded, “and the contingency will not be necessary. Fail, and it will be enacted per the schedule. That is all.”
The three runes vanished as the room’s lights came on. Gil Graham swallowed and reached for his handkerchief, rubbing his brow. He’d never felt so tired before.
“Two days,” he thought out loud. “Two days might as well be two minutes. When I threw my lot in with those devils, I never thought that it would come to something like this…”
The door hissed open, and Aria and Lotte Liese entered.
“Papa?” Lotte asked cautiously. “Papa, what’s wrong?”
“We have work to do.” Graham folded up his handkerchief and turned to face them. “And a very short time to do it.”