//------------------------------// // Trespass // Story: The Fading World // by Neon Czolgosz //------------------------------// Trixie ran down the hallways, crying. She had spent the better part of an hour locked in a bathroom, shivering and sobbing and dreaming of biting comebacks and impossible revenge, pausing to wash the snot and tears from her face, and now she simply wished to be out of this place, anywhere but here with these jackals dressed in pony skins. The thinnest twitch of a smile touched her lips as she saw the main door. She could leave in peace and at least rent an inn for a night while she tried to figure out a future with regular hot meals in it. She pressed her hoof to the massive oaken double door and pushed. It was locked. Trixie fell back onto her haunches and tried very, very hard to not start bawling her lungs out. She was trapped inside the Pure Magics Lecture Building, her own personal pit of suffering, where all her very worst experiences in all her three years at the Canterlot Academy had taken place, and where her livelihood had been brought to a final, unceremonious end a few hours previously. The one silver lining to this horrible day was that she’d never have to roam these halls again, the halls where students with greater pedigrees than her had spat at and mocked her, and where smarter students had ignored and dismissed her, and the thought that she’d have to spend even a minute more in this place suddenly seemed like a greater injustice than all of her previous trials here together. She shoved the door, hoping that it was stiff and some force would move it. Nothing. She ran her hooves over the iron struts, hoping to find some latch or switch. Nothing. She growled in frustration and lit up her horn, tempted to simply blast the door from her hinges, and a cold chill ran down her spine. If somepony caught her tampering with Academy property... Her horn faded. She sniffled, and wiped the snot on her fetlock. She considered her choices. Professor Shimmer would still be here—no. That thought died before it had even formed. Trixie’s ego could only take so much, and asking Sunset Shimmer for a favor, even the tiniest one was a step too far. She would beg for moldy hay before she asked that evil witch for help. Besides, she wasn’t entirely sure that the professor wouldn’t incinerate her where she stood, just to send a message to any other would-be problem students. The custodian was probably nearby, but that sour old donkey creeped Trixie out. She didn’t know what was worse—the scowls he gave when she glanced his way, or the looks he gave her when he thought she wasn’t looking. No, she decided, it would be better to find another way out. The lights were still on, there was surely some tradepony entrance or side door out of there still unlocked. If all else failed she could find a window, one that had cheap locks that she could surely wrangle open without damaging. Half an hour later, Trixie was still in the Pure Magics Lecture Building, close to panic. The mansion-sized building seemed to loop in on itself. The doors, corridors and stairways all looked the same, distinguished only by different paintings of long-dead ponies hung up along the hallways. It felt like the building itself was conspiring against her, deliberately confusing her and drawing her away from the exits. She swore that doors locked behind her when she tried to double back out of dead-ends, forcing her to take ever-more circuitous routes out of the building. Her chest tightened and her heart beat in her ears and her pace quickened from a shuffle to a lively trot to a blind run, trying every door she came across, desperate to find the way out. Every door she touched was locked, forcing her into ever-tighter circles. She climbed stairways she didn’t know existed, higher and higher, hoping she could find just one window that wasn’t criss-crossed with damnable bars of wrought iron. She ran into a corridor on the third floor, no windows and three doors on either side. The door at the end of the corridor was locked, and all the doors along the sides were to private rooms. She doubled back and found the door she’d entered through locked as well. A trickle of cold sweat ran down her forehead as a horrible thought hit her. All of these doors are on automatic sensors. A quick scan proved her right, lighting up a tiny set of cuneiform in the upper-left corner of the door. Time and wear had scratched at it and weakened the magic, so instead of locking shut at a given hour, it would lock some time after that hour. Trixie groaned. Anypony important enough to get the charms fixed would have their own set of charm tags, allowing them to open any locked door in the building. Trixie was not that important, and now she was completely stuck. She shivered, and not just from fear. The midwinter cold pierced even the thick academy walls, and there were no heat charms in any of the hallways. Perhaps if she tried a room, she thought, at least there might be a desk to hunker under until morning. She tried one door. Locked. A second. Locked. A third door creaked open and a rush of warm air hit her and— I’m in the academy lodgings. This is Sunset Shimmer’s room! Every professor at the academy had a private bedroom within the academy proper, a luxurious place to stay without having to trudge through the mundane scum of Canterlot every night, both as a privilege and a token of their station. This one belong to Sunset Shimmer, there was no doubt about it. Above the double bed and behind the desk hung the Sunblaze family emblem, and the gold-and-orange motif of every decoration in the room was hardly subtle. The room was empty, but it didn’t matter. To be caught here was death. Trixie began to back away when a horrible ‘click’ sounded out from behind her, the sound of a door unlocking. Her eyes shrunk to pinpricks. She stumbled forward into Sunset’s room, dived under the bed and cast an invisibility spell for good measure. The hoofsteps came closer and closer until they were almost at the door and Trixie squeezed her eyes shut realising it was over that Sunset Shimmer would see through her weak cantrip of a cloaking spell without a second glance and that would be the end and oh Celestia she hoped that it would be quick and Sunset wouldn’t slowly flay her with— “Bloody cleaner, locking every bloody door in the bloody place. I swear to Ishtar, if I catch him fiddling with the lock charms I’m going to whip that silly ass to the bone...” That was decidedly not the voice of Sunset Shimmer. Sunset Shimmer, after all, did not have a strong Trottingham accent. And Sunset Shimmer was not a donkey. Trixie cracked open an eye. A donkey maid had entered the room, carting in a trolley laden with food. “Hmph,” said the maid to herself. “She sends two complaints to the kitchens every week, and she’s not even here to eat her food. Typical bloody nailheads...” With that, she stomped away. Trixie was alone once more. Trixie became acutely aware that she hadn’t eaten for three days, ever since her meal tokens were revoked. She didn’t dare drop the invisibility spell, but she shuffled out from under the bed and approached the trolley. Her mouth watered as she saw the spread. Thickly-sliced tomatoes and mozzarella on toasted bread, seasoned with salt and cracked pepper. A double hayburger, dripping with cheese and ketchup. The brightest, crispiest, lushest salad she’d even seen. Banana fritters dipped in chocolate. Trixie had only seen most of these foods in books. She stared at the hayburger. She’d had something similar, with hayfries and an apple juice drink, four years ago when she had been accepted into the Canterlot Academy. Her entire family scrounged and scraped for a celebration, and got her the biggest, best meal they could afford. That had been half the size of this spread, and this was Sunset Shimmer’s evening snack. She looked at the door. Sunset Shimmer could come back to her room at any moment. But all the food looked so good. Better than any food she’d ever tasted. Better than any food she’d seen. Trixie’s stomach rumbled. Surely the professor wouldn’t miss a single slice of tomato, a single mouthful of mesclun? She was gone the moment her teeth bit into the soft, salted tomato, through the creamy, thick cheese, and crunched through the toasted bread. After all, a tomato seed had dripped off her lips and on to the floor. Sunset Shimmer would notice that, right? There was no point trying to hide it any more, she might as well eat the whole thing. Every mouthful of peppery rocket and romaine, each lick of vinaigrette, every perfectly juicy tomato, each bite of the piping-hot slightly-spiced hayburger that sent rivulets of mustard and ketchup dripping down her chin, each tongue-scalding ball of dough and banana soaked in chocolate, this rich dark sauce that she’d only heard whispers of in the fanciest of hotels amongst the likes of white truffles and cinnamon and cow’s milk, each and every mouthful was hers now and she felt as if she’d gladly die at Sunset’s hoof rather than stop eating and end this sensory nirvana a second too soon. Trixie fell to her haunches, groaning from pleasure. She couldn’t remember the last time her stomach had felt so full. It felt like half the meal was spread around her lips and down her chin, but she didn’t care. She was in a daze. “Take me.” A hoarse command burst into Trixie’s ear. Trixie squealed. She jumped up, tripped over her own cape and fell face-flat onto the ground. Her invisibility spell dissipated, and in her panic she couldn’t draw the power to recast it. She ran straight for the door, only to find it locked. She scrabbled and thumped at it, too shocked to think clearly, and slumped down against it. “Help me.” She could feel her heart beating in her throat. There was no one else in the room. She rose to her hooves, feeling as if her limbs were filled with rubber. After a final, desperate attempt on the door, she looked around the room for the source of the noise. All the lights in the room seemed to dim, but Sunset Shimmer’s desk especially seemed to be shrouded in shadow. “We know what you are,” spoke the voice again, calmer this time, though the sound still sent shivers through Trixie’s spine. “You alone can save me. Two objects were on the desk, bathed in a strange glow. Trixie touched them haltingly, as if expecting a shock. One was a spiral-bound book titled ‘Notes on the Grail Wars and Related Summoning Sciences,’ with the name of the author scorched off. The other was a black wooden box, the size of a hardback dictionary. Trixie pried the box open. Inside was... a fossil, perhaps? Something curved and strange and silvery, partly enveloped in stone. The rock was dusty and grimy, but the metallic parts were unmarred and gleaming. She swallowed. Stealing a meal was one thing, and Sunset Shimmer would likely track her down and visit a brutal reprisal out of sheer spite. Stealing a magic tome and an ancient artifact was a declaration of war. There would be nowhere on earth for Trixie to hide from her wrath once she found out. “Together we can defeat her,” whispered the voice. “Please, Trixie. Do not allow me to be bound as her slave.” The voice quietened, and the lights flickered back to life. Trixie swallowed. The book and the box were the only signs that she had not simply dreamed the entire episode. At the end of the desk, on a hook, were a set of keys. Trixie made up her mind.