Dala, First Entry - by Dala's Author
An orange unicorn wearing a ragged purple scarf trotted through the halls of the Crystal Empire Castle. His eyes wandered to and fro as he traversed the empty corridors, his loud hoofsteps echoing on the spotless, mirror-like floors. An old pair of saddlebags were at his sides, dirtied with the dust and grime of many days’ travel. In his purple aura he held a scroll, rolled up tightly and tied with blue ribbon, and every time the his eyes flickered to it, his expression became curiously pensive.
The unicorn navigated the pristine corridors before arriving at a tall, intricate set of doors. They were swung wide open, but guarding them were a pair of burly crystal guards. Both of them turned their heads as one to the newcomer, but their attention quickly switched to the scroll.
“Ah, you’re the one the Guildmaster sent word about,” one of the guards said. She looked the newcomer up and down. “What was your name again? Turnip, or something?”
The orange unicorn fidgeted. “Trinket, ma’am.”
“Right.” The guard reached out and plucked the scroll out of the air, glancing at it once before rolling it back up. “You’ll find Alchemist Dala in the Athenaeum. First door on the left.”
“Though you might wanna keep it brief,” the other guard advised, chuckling. “She’s cranky in the mornings.”
Trinket felt a sudden sense of foreboding, but pressed on. He tucked the scroll in his bags and followed the guard’s directions, stepping into the new hallway and entering the first set of doors on the left.
The Athenaeum was an immense, open room lined with high, ancient bookshelves hewn from the Castle’s very walls. It was big enough that, had Trinket yelled out, he would’ve heard his voice resonate like if he was at the base of a canyon. A beautiful chandelier set with white, glowing crystals hung from the ceiling, and the whole place smelled of dried paper.
Trinket’s eye was drawn to the only activity in the room--a blazing fire crackling in a hearth by one of the windows. Beside it was an earth pony mare, short, thin and frail, robed in the royal blue of an alchemist and poring over a thick, dusty tome. Her aqua bangs hid her face from view as she muttered softly to herself, her voice lost to the fire’s merry crackling.
Trinket approached the mare quietly, although his hoofsteps seemed unnaturally loud in the silence. He saw that there were several books scattered on the tables beside the mare, all of which were open to pages displaying pictures of herbs and plants. He could also hear a dull bubbling noise, and noticed that a large pewter cauldron was resting in the heated coals of the fireplace. Its bottom half was a brilliant, cherry-red. Copious steam wafted out from an unknown boiling liquid within that smelled of crushed pine needles.
Trinket’s movements became jittery. He tried to ignore the pit in his stomach, but didn’t succeed any more than he ever did. Which is to say, that he failed miserably. He figured that his presence would be noticed, but evidently, the mare was utterly absorbed in her work. Her only movement was to brush her mane out of her face, revealing a pair of green, bloodshot eyes with dark circles under them.
Trinket halted and cleared his throat, taking a moment to adjust his own messy mane. ““Uh… s-sorry, but… a-are you Dala?”
No response. The mare flipped the page of her book, shivering as she pulled her robe tighter around herself.
Trinket tapped his hoof and cleared his throat again, louder this time. “Excuse me--”
“I heard you,” the mare said. Her voice was flat and heavy with fatigue. “Give me a minute.”
“Erm…” Trinket swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m here because--”
“I said hold on!” the mare snapped.
“Eep!” Trinket feel back on his haunches. He did as he was told and fell silent, and tensely, he watched as the mare continued examining her mysterious book. A few minutes passed, and Trinket began to fear that he was being blown off, but then a moment later, the mare reached for a small beaker on the table. She carefully measured out three drops of a smoking, yellow liquid, turned around to the cauldron, and smoothly poured them in.
There was a crackling hiss. The room became filled with a harsh, acrid smell.
“Ack!” Trinket gagged and coughed. His eyes began to tear up from the odor, and he took several steps back in alarm. He tripped over his own hooves and fell backwards onto the unforgiving floor, gasping for breath.
The mare slammed her hoof against the wall. “DAMN IT!” She reached for a bucket of thick, brown goop beside the hearth. She dumped the whole thing into the cauldron, and the appalling smell vanished. “Damn, damn, damn! Every thrice-damned time! Why can’t I make any freaking progress?!”
Trinket lay on the ground, gasping for air. Whatever had been brewing in that cauldron had left him lightheaded, and now the room was spinning. He groaned as he tried to get back up on his haunches, but fell right back down. His limbs suddenly felt like lead, and it was getting hard to breathe.
The mare turned to him and inhaled sharply. “Oh, for crying out--those bucking IDIOTS!” She went back over to the table, grabbed a sprig of a long stemmed weed with silver leaves, then limped over to the fallen stallion. “I’m reporting them to the Prince for this… I’ll get them both put on latrine duty until the Crystal Heart expires...”
She bent down and held the weed under Trinket’s nose. His nose wiggled, and he caught a clean, sweet scent, like peppermint. A moment later, his head slowly began to clear, and his muscles relaxed. Gradually, he sat back up and looked at her woozily.
“Thank… you…”.
The mare held him steady and began to measure his pulse. “You all right?”
Trinket nodded. “Please tell me… you’re Dala...”
“That’d be me,” the frail mare said. “Try not to get up too fast. Who are you, and who sent you?”
Trinket met her eyes for a moment, but something in them made him quickly look away. His attention remained on the floor as he spoke. “Trinket. Cady--er, Princess Cadance sent me. I need you to transmute some truesteel.”
Dala raised an eyebrow. “Truesteel? For what?”
“Crown.” Trinket pulled out the scroll and showed it to her. “Making a new one for the Princess.”
Dala took the scroll and gave it a quick glance-over. “Commission for new regalia… to be crafted by artisan Trinket of Stockhoof… referred to Guildmaster Pestle of the Royal Alchemist’s Guild… transmute request approved, Alchemist Dala to perform...”
Trinket smiled sheepishly and put a hoof behind his neck. “They’ve, uh… been having me run around all morning. Didn’t think I’d need to sign so many things.”
“Hmph.” Dala tossed the scroll onto the table. “Of course he’d have me do it. Not like I’m in the middle of my research or anything… oh, this is his payback for me using up all the Wraithroot last week, I just know it. Still, I suppose it’s about time. I’ve been telling the Princess she needs to get that dented thing replaced for months…”
“Erm…” Trinket shifted back and forth.
Dala glanced at him. “I hope you’ve got the materials on you. I can’t exactly do a transmutation without the base components.”
“I think I do.” Trinket reached into his saddlebags and pulled out a thick, black bag inlaid with azure runes. “This should be everything.”
Dala took the bag and looked inside it for a few seconds. “Hmph. So you do. All right, then.” She satisfied, she swung it over her back and limped to the center of the room. “Follow me.”
“Um…” Trinket said, noticing her limp. “Are you all right?”
Dala grunted. “As alright as I can be.”
“What were you working on, if you don’t mind my asking?” Trinket looked back at the fireplace, wrinkling his nose. “It smelled terrible.”
“A potion I’ve been trying to develop for a while, now.” Dala stopped in the center of the room, just beneath the chandelier. “It wasn’t supposed to smell like that. Wasn’t supposed to knock ponies on their rumps, either. Still working on that.”
“Oh.” Trinket was curious to know more, but somehow, he doubted that she would humor him. He could tell she’d been up all night, and remembering the guard’s advice, he decided to stand back by the table and watch her work, quietly observing the complicated runes she’d begun to draw on the floor.
It took a few minutes for Dala to set everything up. Once ready, she stood amongst the symbols she’d drawn, muttering something to herself and turned to Trinket.
“Turn around, close your eyes, and don’t move until I tell you.”
Trinket obeyed. “Yes, ma’am.”
Once he was situated, Dala cracked her neck, rolled her shoulders, and opened the bag. A swirling, glittering rain of ground metals instantly flew out in a cloud, swirling around her like a multicolored funnel. She closed her eyes as well and focused, and the runes began to glow. The air hummed with the sizzle of gathering magic. Dala raised a hoof, and in her grasp, the grains of metal began to merge into a single bar.
“Wow,” Trinket breathed, feeling his skin tingle. He desperately wanted to look, but did as Dala instructed and stayed put.
The fragments continued to coalesce, the bar growing in size, luster, and beauty. Dala remained utterly focused throughout her task, her posture never shifting even a single inch. It took about five minutes for the entire process to be completed, but when it was done, the result was truly something to behold. In Dala’s hoof was an ingot of pristine white metal, immaculate and shining like the very sun. It was about the size of an apple, but didn’t seem to weigh very much, as she held it without issue.
Upon hearing the runes power down, Dala felt around for the black bag she’d dropped and delicately placed the truesteel ingot inside, and once she cinched the bag up, the blinding light from the metal vanished completely.
“All clear,” Dala said, opening her eyes. She went over to Trinket and gave him the bag, not meeting his eyes as she went back over to the hearth. “Now, normally I’d give you a whole spiel about the hazards of truesteel and how to safely handle it, but seeing as your request’s been approved by the Guildmaster, I think we can skip that part. Just don’t open that bag without proper eye protection, unless you want to fry your Celestia-damned retinas. Okay?”
Trinket eyed the bag in his aura like it contained a poisonous snake. “G-got it.”
“Grand.” Dala closed the book she’d been reading, put it back on the shelf, then wearily stepped past Trinket and made for the exit. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my pillow is calling my name.”
“Huh?” Trinket did a double take. “Oh! Er… t-thank you!”
Dala’s gave him a beleaguered wave. “Make Cadance a nice crown. She deserves it.”
“I will!”
Dala left. Trinket was left alone in the Athenaeum, his prize secured and safely in his bags. He pumped his hoof in victory and chuckled to himself, his mind already planning out how best to use such a precious resource.
Unfortunately, his musings were interrupted by a sudden, ear-splitting shout.
“YOU BUCKING MORONS! WHAT PART OF ‘DO NOT DISTURB’ DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?! I’M GONNA PUT GHANZ’AA LEAF IN YOUR CANTEENS SO THAT YOU LOSE YOUR SENSE OF TASTE!”
Trinket vs. Dala - by Trinket's Author
Tucked away in a corner of the Crystal Empire’s Spire, right across the hall from the kitchen was the castle’s laboratory. It was modestly sized and full of the latest instruments, but the Crystal Empire currently lacked the reasons to make full use of it. It was usually empty this late in the evening besides, but the light dribbling out through the cracks in the door told otherwise.
A small gemstone protruded from the ceiling, emanating a light that colored the crystal walls a soft blue. Cumbersome machines stuck to the walls beside heavy cabinets and various desks were scattered about the center, clean and sparkling. A few of them were etched with arcane symbols and sigils. One such table was currently being occupied, its etchings aglow with a faint orange.
Dala stood over the table, wearing a lab coat and crushing various herbs in a small bowl with her hooves. She added a few salts and some water, then gave the mixture a good sniff. Her head snapped back then as it suddenly blew up with a puff of smoke, staining her nose a darker shade of orange and making her blue mane resemble a sunset. With a sigh, she dropped the little bowl on the table and walked across the room to clean her face.
As she stuck her head under a faucet and grabbed for a towel, the door opened.
“This is cool,” said a random unicorn as he took a few steps into the room and passed his eyes over it.
A crystal guardspony held the door open for him, and gave a few words before leaving. “Everything you’ll need is in here,” he said. He motioned over to Dala, who was currently trying to dry herself as quickly as possible. “Dala there should be able to help you if you need anything. I’ll be outside when you’re done.”
“Thanks,” said the unicorn, and the door shut behind him.
He quickly looked towards Dala, who was busy running her hooves through her mane to try and straighten it out. She stole a look at the newcomer out of the corner of her eye, and when they met she turned away and started wringing the towel out in the sink.
“Hello,” said the unicorn as he walked over to her. He used one hoof to loosen the purplish scarf around his neck. “Uh, my name’s Trinket. And you’re... Dala? Are you the lab director?”
“No,” she said flatly. She hung the towel up and gave him an unamused, sideways glance. “What are you doing here?”
The question stopped him. “Um, I’m here to repair Princess Cadance’s neckpiece,” he said.
His horn then lit up a kind orange, opening the flap of a small satchel on his back and floating out a bundle of white cloth. It delicately unraveled to reveal the golden band that was Princess Cadance’s neckpiece. Dala’s eyes widened at that, but then they narrowed on the large crack running straight across it and the few gold chips beside it.
“It got damaged during the battle with King Sombra,” he continued. “Probably. At least, Cadance couldn’t think of why else it would just break like this. She accidentally dropped it yesterday morning and, well...”
“I see,” Dala mused, and then shrugged. “Have at it, then,” she said. She then bothered to take the long way back to her table.
Trinket blinked. “Hey, wait!” he said, following after her. “Can you show me where the furnace is?”
“It’s in that corner,” Dala said, pointing to a table on the near wall. A large, black box sat on top of it.
“Oh.” Trinket stopped right beside it. “Thanks.”
If Dala had a response, she kept to herself. A few strides later and she was back at her table, doing her best to remain preoccupied and shut out the new pony. She didn’t know what he was doing here and not that she cared, but she already found herself wishing him gone. There was a reason she liked coming here in the evening, she thought to herself, failing to hide a small frown.
But she kept it out of sight. Her nose was aimed at the small bowl. She still had work to do. Using a little chisel she scraped off all the residue she could. Reaching over the arcane symbols, she grabbed a vial of red goop and delicately poured a small amount of the powder into it. She eyed it and gave it a shake, half-expecting it to explode in her face again.
Instead she nearly dropped it, when a sharp crack! erupted over her shoulder.
Hastily setting the vial down, she turned to see Trinket had turned the furnace on and found a crucible. His scarf was discarded and he was holding Princess Cadance’s neckpiece with his magic, which was currently in two separate chunks.
He then bent the segments at odd angles and they broke in half as well.
“What are you doing?!” Dala snapped at him.
Trinket stuck the pieces in the crucible and proceeded to stick it in the furnace. “What?”
“You just—!” She stared at him, caught between her desk and running up to him. Her frown became clear. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t tell how many microscopic or internal cracks there are,” he said slowly. “It’d be better to just make Cadance a new one.”
“And you think you can just do that?”
“I’m the one who made it in the first place,” he remarked, “twelve years ago when she first became a princess. I can easily make it again. I know what I’m doing.”
“Yeah, well, just...” Dala caught her breath before she could say anything else, and it came trickling out as a sigh. “Just don’t screw it up, alright? Princess Cadance is... she’s important to me. I’d hate to see her get upset.”
Trinket chuckled. “You and me both.” He blinked. “Uh, your thing is glowing.”
She gave him a look and said, “What?” before turning back towards the desk.
The vial of goop sat motionless, but over her shoulder she could see her lab coat beginning to shine with white light, like a hundred little suns were hidden underneath it. Then they started to tingle, and it wouldn’t be long before they really did start to burn.
“Ah, jeez, not now,” she hissed under breath, leaning herself up against the desk as the nerves across her back began contracting. Her lab coat acted like a lamp shade, covering the points of light as they started to fluctuate and sparkle.
Trinket took a few steps towards her. “Dala?”
“I’m fine,” she growled, lifting a hoof to push him away. But a sudden seize across her shoulder took away her grip on the table, and she collapsed onto the floor.
“Hey!” Trinket shouted, running up to her.
A vicious popping noise started as she curled up into a ball, her back still glowing with some arcane magic. “I sa-aid I’m fine!” she hissed at him, even as she cradled her head in her hooves.
Trinket ignored her and grabbed her with his magic, at least taking her a few inches off the floor before she hurt herself. Another thought and he pulled off the lab coat, revealing an intricate pattern of scars across her back, which her glowing hot-white. He started at them blankly, mystified, when Dala suddenly stopped convulsing. A second later she kicked out, freeing herself from his magic and bringing herself to her hooves.
Trinket stood beside her. “Are you alright?”
“I said...” Dala started, grabbing her lab coat and throwing it back on. The scars were still alight, but slowly dissipating.
“You’re not fine,” he remarked. “Not with... whatever that is.”
“I’m working on it,” she grumbled, taking in a deep breath. “Leave me alone.”
“Hey, I—”
“I said,”—she pushed him back, away from the desk—“leave me alone!” She waved him off and went back to her work. “Go... go back to your furnace. I’m fine.”
Trinket stared at her, and she simply tuned him out. A little reluctant and confused, he walked away back towards his work. A few more minutes later and he opened the furnace, revealing the crucible. He took it out with his magic and then lifted the glob of molten gold out itself. It hovered like a bubble in the air, where he then started spinning it around and stretching it. Slowly, it began to take on the familiar shape of a ring.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Dala glancing his way. She turned before he did, sticking her nose back down at her work. She had produced a mess of wires and was currently putting together a small circuit, with two metal prongs sticking into the vial of goop. At the other end she had a battery and a meter, which still needed to be hooked up.
The second time she glanced out of the corner of her eye, Trinket wasn’t by the furnace. Instead, he was standing right beside her, watching her work and twirling the molten ring of gold over his head.
“What’cha workin’ on?” he asked.
She sighed. “What’s it to you?”
“Just trying to be friendly,” he said, walking around her. “Also, I’m curious. I’m not well educated with the sciences. What’s this, chemistry?”
“Alchemy,” she deadpanned. “Would please give me some space?”
Trinket kindly took one small step back, and again Dala sighed.
“So...” he tried again, “what’re you doing?”
“You know,” Dala started, “I’ve worked with Princess Cadance for many years now. I can respect how she decided to get her neckpiece fixed. I can respect you for doing that. But, please, that doesn’t mean I have to associate with you.” She stared at him. “Please, leave me alone.”
Trinket hummed. “Yeah, thanks, but you kind of look like somepony who doesn’t want to be left alone.”
Her stare flattened. “Trust me. I do.”
He shook his head. “No, I mean, I bet you’re just harking for someone to talk with. Get your ideas out, y’know? I do it all the time.” He lifted his hooves up. “I... talk to my hooves sometimes. When I make things.” He pointed over his head. “You?”
Her stare became a confused one. Trinket took the opportunity to give her work on the table a closer look. “What are you making?” He poked the vial. “Some sort of new paint?”
“It’s not paint,” Dala muttered, slapping his hoof away. “It’s my bl...” She paused, and then repeated in a low voice, “It’s my blood.”
“That’s cool,” he said matter-of-factly, which startled her. “Working on a vaccine or something? What’s electricity got to do with that?”
“I don’t know,” she said plainly. “I’m just experimenting.”
“What’s it for?”
“I...” She sighed. Slowly, she pulled down a part of her lab coat to expose the scars on her withers. They weren’t glowing, but they were still a discolored white and blue. “Long story short, I’ve got a disease and these runes keep me from collapsing.”
“Like you did?”
“No. Worse.” She sighed again and pulled up her coat. “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to cure it for a couple of years now. I like being by myself. It gives me peace of mind and lets me actually work. So while I appreciate your apparent concern, would you please leave me alone?”
Trinket clicked his tongue. “Sure, I guess.” He looked up at the glowing band, which was finally starting to cool. He pinched one end of it with his magic to give it that simple design it had before, and slowly began stretching it at ends. “But you still want to talk, though?” he asked as he walked away.
Dala didn’t say anything.
“Eh, I can talk. I do that,” he said, wandering over to the sink. “You’re friends with Cadance, I assume? Well, I grew up with her in Canterlot, and we’re still pretty close. Want to hear about the time Shining Armor thought Cadance broke up with him when she didn’t even know they were going out?”
Dala paused, but again didn’t say anything.
He turned on the faucet and let the sink fill.
“I think we were all, like, in elementary school then,” he continued. “Cadance and Shining were the only two who had their cutie marks at the time. Shining thought this automatically meant they were dating for one reason or another.”
The sink quickly filled, where he then gently lowered the hot band of gold into. It hissed loudly and erupted a cloud of steam, and after letting it sit for a few seconds he took it back out.
“Needs a polish,” he said to himself, giving it a closer look. He reached over to grab it with his hooves. “Anyways, Shining was—Gaugh!”
The neckpiece fell back into the sink with a steamy hiss. Seething, Trinket fell onto his rump and gripped his hoof, which was notably a shade of red darker than his fur coat.
“Everytime,” he muttered.
“Here,” he heard Dala say. Looking up, he found her standing right over him, holding a small first-aid kit.
“Aw, you care,” he joked.
She rolled her eyes and tossed the kit at him. “Pain is one of the few things I know how to manage,” she said. “Do you need any help?”
He smiled. “Yeah, I could.”
Dala sat down on the floor beside him and took his hoof. Trinket happily opened the first-aid kit, which Dala sifted through for a roll of gauze and some ointment. As gently as she could, she squirted some out onto the burn and start rubbing it in.
Trinket hissed. “You didn’t say it was going to sting like that.”
“You didn’t ask.”
He snorted. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t.”
She hummed to that and started wrapping his hoof with gauze. The next minute was spent in silence as she cleaned everything up and closed the first-aid kit. But she didn’t stand yet, choosing to sit on the floor there with him, deep in thought.
“So,” she said after a long pause, “What was Shining Armor doing?”
Trinket blinked at her and smiled.