//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: Trixie Has A Problem // by Navi //------------------------------// Twilight had always been a quicker walker than most, never finding time to slow and enjoy a journey for any of its aspects, but her haste was unrivalled even by Rainbow Dash at present because of the urgency of the situation. Strolling at speed past several townsfolk, Twilight left a steady string of frowns and pouts in her wake as she was enveloped by deep thought, rejecting the smiles and waves of passers-by. Most of her thoughts hinged on what else she could have tried in terms of magic to help Trixie. Perhaps I’d given up too easily, she quibbled in silence. Amongst the mess of recollections to certain tomes that may have been of more help, or the locations of scrolls scattered about the Library that could have held the key, a simple, loud question continued to resound without relent. Twilight tried her best not to think about it, as she knew what her answer to it would be and thus did not feel the need to respond. But no matter how much she beat it down dwelling on magic, it continued to call loud and clear. Why had she, with such haste, abandoned her entire day to help Trixie? Going out of her way at a moment’s notice to aid the poor showgirl? “Okay, it’s obvious,” she mumbled with anger to herself in response to her own mind, passing the final hay-thatched house on the border of the town, entering the rolling fields of green lining Ponyville’s edge, “Trixie needed my help, there’s absolutely no way she could possibly have done anything to resolve her condition by herself as a pony. Something awful could have happened to her if she hadn’t gotten to me in time.” But what about the cruel and unforgivable things she has done to you, your friends, and the people of Ponyville? Her subconscious heaved back in retaliation. Taking pause as the dirt path thinned, small forests of lush grass spilling across it from the surrounding meadows, Twilight groped at a reason to justify her selfless and benevolent nature. “I…” – She knelt down, her attention drawn for a split second by a lustrous, newly opened azure syringa as she plucked it from the ground – “Nobody deserves this kind of fate, especially not Trixie. She’s not an evildoer who needs to be punished. She made a mistake, everyone does, just on… different scales.” Resuming her trek, Twilight examined the flower in her hands without thought, continuing to deliberate as she passed between two unwelcoming crooked trees, their jagged branches entwining to form a dark gateway into the Everfree Forest. The beaten path began to fade into an almost invisible leafy trail, Twilight only noticing just before she put her foot into a bright blue patch of poison joke. “Aha” – She grinned, waggling her finger – “I don’t think so!” Skirting around the patch, she noticed that the impish flowers had sprung up in enormous batches all over the forest floor, quite unusual for late spring, she thought. As the worn grass dissipated into an untouched bed, Twilight knew that she was getting close to Zecora’s hut. A familiar tree and a fallen log here and there marked the way, the forest-dwelling druid assisting with a couple of tied up bioluminescent leaves tagged to the foliage that only one who knew to look for them would see. After a short time, the oasis of the forest presented itself, a calm, colourful clearing bereft of unnatural darkness and chilling loneliness, centred by a living Everfree tree, crafted with tender attention and care so as not to upset the spirit residing within. Seeing the door hanging ajar, Twilight stepped up and gave a soft knock. Without a response, she let out a call and entered with caution, calling again as she crossed the threshold and observed a familiar black cauldron simmering away to itself without a master to mind it. “Zecora?” Twilight hailed again with volume to determine whether or not the druid was in the house, or even nearby for that matter. Yielding again no reply, the witch examined the room, finding that the back door was wide open, and a hangar beside it missing its basket and sickle. She must be out harvesting, Twilight thought. With no time to spare, she decided it be best to go out and look for Zecora, as Trixie was urgent for a cure. A flutter tripped across Twilight’s heart as she dared to leave into the deep forest out back of the hut, away from the safety of the grove behind her. Zecora lived and made her way in this forest because she knew of all, or as much as could be known, that inhabited it, as well as what to do when facing a problem. Twilight, however, knew very little about the mystical plants, bugs, and other monstrous cretins that crept about the insidious enclave, and should not have forgone common sense as she had done now. If the poison joke was anything to scale the severity of the Everfree Forest’s condition by, it being on the very rim, not a soul would ever think about trespassing into the glade owned by the shadows themselves. As Twilight pushed deeper on the path she had chosen, selected by the trail of fresh mushroom stems that even she could tell had seen the sharpened blade of a gathering tool, memories of all of the most horrific tales Zecora had told her during her visits came to the forefront of her mind, resounding over and over with the clarity of water, just so she could understand the seriousness of the situation she was putting herself in. Zecora had spun tales of living ivy that tangled transgressors beyond aid, shrubbery masquerading as stone that would add tired travellers to its surface and fungi that transmuted flesh itself into flower until it had consumed a being to completion. None of this was helping Twilight to keep her resolve firm, her progression slowing to a crawl as she watched out for all of these things and much more. The shriek of a large owl sat watching in the canopy of the trees above petrified her, freezing Twilight to the spot as she clutched at the trunk of a tree, one of a scattered few that was barren of thorns. “So, you would take up the life of a slug?” a voice whispered, Twilight attempting to let out a scream that the residents of Ponyville would have heard, but felt a soft palm clamp across her mouth to silence her. Trembling on the spot with a whimper, a dark hand threaded between the witch’s arm and side to give a gentle push to a small, camouflaged blob of slime, making it scurry away into the grass below. “Or perhaps you’d rather be a bug?” Zecora chuckled, steadying her young friend with another quiet whisper. Delighted that she wasn’t being held hostage by an artful rogue, Twilight swivelled to give the druid a hug, part of it for greeting, the other for comfort. Putting a finger to her mouth, Zecora indicated silence to be necessary as she took Twilight’s hand with her own and led the witch back through the trees to her hut, a more suitable location to talk. Entering and gesturing to a table, Zecora shut the back door and moved to check up on the swirling green vortex inside the cauldron, dropping her basket of severed mushroom heads on the table as Twilight seated herself as implied, breathing away the mild worry that her journey into the forest had caused. “So, young Twilight, what brings you all this way to me? A kind visit, or does something vex thee?” Zecora queried, taking the wooden ladle resting within the large kettle and giving gentle stirs to the mixture. “I’m sorry Zecora, I’m afraid it’s not good news, I desperately need your help with something.” “Hm? A problem you say? Then out with it, without delay!” Zecora demanded, dropping the ladle into the bubbling pot. She was still on edge as a result of the amulet incident that had not long passed, and even though Twilight had already visited a few days ago as a pleasant social call to put her mind at ease, Zecora seemed always prepared for the worst. “It’s about Trixie,” Twilight began. “Ugh! That wretch! Causing more strife? Shouldn’t she concern herself with her own life?” Jumping to an easy conclusion, Zecora had already whipped her dark shawl and gnarled staff from their resting place from in between a few of her cultural masks and was ready to race back to Ponyville, Twilight jumping from her chair to stop her. “No Zecora, it’s not like that!” she cried. “It is not? Then what?” “It’s Trixie… she’s the one who needs help,” Twilight muttered, Zecora taking on an expression of utter confusion in response. Placing her belongings back where they had been, Zecora returned to the table and took a seat, Twilight joining her now that things had been cleared up. “Please forgive me, that was abrupt, I will listen, and promise not to disrupt.” Turning for a moment to check on the stew in the pot beside her, Zecora took a mushroom from her basket and threw it in, then returned her attention to Twilight. “She’s been transformed into a pony, and according to Trixie, a performing witch like herself is the culprit.” Twilight fumbled with her thumbs and fingers as she explained the situation, certain that though Zecora was eager to offer help to whomever required it, the druid could not at present comprehend why in Equestria Twilight would want to help Trixie. “An issue of magic? How tragic. But why have you come here? Spells are not what I revere,” Zecora asked, gripping her chin in contemplation. “I know, Zecora, I’m sorry, I just don’t know who else to turn to. Things haven’t really gotten worse to the point I need to contact the Princesses, and you’re so experienced and knowledgeable that there must be something you can think of.” Cocking her head and smirking a little, Zecora basked for a moment in Twilight’s generous compliment before putting her mind to what was being asked of her. “Hmm,” Zecora pondered, “Perhaps there is a way, something to set the change astray. Though, it requires sacrifice, usually, an amount of blood would suffice.” Zecora gave her friend a stern and genuine gaze as Twilight withdrew and shivered, taking on a grim expression at the prospect of somehow having to explain to Trixie that she needed to take some of her blood, let alone even do it. Unable to keep her composure, Zecora’s pursed lips faltered into a grin and she stifled a giggle. “But that is tough, a lock of hair should be enough,” she finished, Twilight returning a nervous smile. “That’ll be easy, I’m sure Trixie won’t mind. In fact, I’ll go and bring her here. It’ll save going back and forth so much. I’d have brought her this time but she was so scared Zecora…” “I understand your concern, now hurry, we shall see what we can learn.” With that, Twilight had already straightened her satchel and was at the door. “I won’t be long!” Twilight called, scurrying away into the enclave. As Zecora stood at the entrance, watching the witch disappear into the woods, a measure of dread rested at the back of her mind. Like with many of the inhabitants of the Everfree Forest, she thought, some throes of magic are unforgiving and unyielding in their curses. The druid frowned and cast the doubt aside, returning to her cauldron, certain that Trixie was not a victim of such a hex.