//------------------------------// // Part IV: The Witches of Whim // Story: Dinky Doo and the Quest for the Sacred Treats // by PaulAsaran //------------------------------// Thanks in no small part to the Paper Knight’s exploits, the lands surrounding the village of Ponyville were peaceful and quiet this night. This proved a great relief to the Paper Squire and her hearty band, who had feared many possible encounters on the road to the next Hero of the Kitchen. Never did they encounter fearsome bugbears or mighty hydras, and there was not a peep from the spooky Peeping Króm. Yet this did not mean the world was silent. On the contrary, a great racket arose at the end of the road, where sat a small but pristine home. Here, Marelin informed them, resided the next Hero of the Kitchen: the Lady Migraine and her Unpleasant Knight, Lord Malignant. Yet even Marelin failed to know what brought forth such troubling noise from the pair's simple home. Preparing for such threats as the whimsical Breezy Brigade or a nasty Parasprite Swarm, the Paper Squire knocked upon the door and readied her sword. Soon she was greeted by a donkey dressed in but a simple cloak, who met the visitors with grave tidings. “It is good of you to have come, Paper Squire,” she cried. “I am Lady Migraine, and tonight I am living up to my name! For behold, my home has been invaded by a trio of witches causing all kinds of mischief.” The party entered the home to find the vast and legendary collection of Lord Malignant. Truly, no trove of magical relics and precious artifacts has been known in Ponyville as this legendary hoard! Trinkets and items both rare and dangerous decorated every wall and open space, taken from countless grand adventures and daring deeds over the course of the noble couple’s long lives. And there, prancing about the timeless treasures, were three little witches in matching blue, red and orange cloaks. Merrily they laughed as the noble – but eternally cranky and not very agreeable – Lord Malignant struggled in vain to catch the flighty trio. “Don’t touch that,” he cried, rushing after the yellow witch in her orange cape. “That’s priceless!” He lunged on elderly bones for the white witch in her red cape. “No, no throwing,” he pleaded of the orange witch in her blue cape. Yet the wily witches refused to be corralled, giggling and prancing beyond his grasp. Soon the good lord – well, as good as he could afford to be – fell to the floor in defeat. “Matilda, do something!” “This place is a cutie mark gold mine,” announced the yellow witch oh-so wickedly. “Yeah, we should have come here ages ago,” replied the grinning white witch. “I dunno,” the orange witch said, “this stuff seems kinda old. I don’t want to conjure an old pony for a cutie mark.” Lady Migraine turned to Marelin in her despair. “Please, do something! We can do nothing to stop these witches!” And so did Marelin raise her staff high and strike the floor, the sound so loud it shook the house and maybe all of Ponyville! The shaking was so bad that several of Lord Malignant’s priceless relics fell from their mantles and places on the walls, cracking and crashing to the floors. The lord rounded upon the wizard, his eyes aglow with fury, and she was so overcome with dread that she prostrated herself and begged his forgiveness. With her mentor so occupied, Tom Dumb and G’rain the Adventurer consoling the distraught Lady Migraine, and Pip the Pirate placating the incensed Lord Malignant, the Paper Squire did take it upon herself to face these witches. “Stop you witches!” The witches, of course, had already stopped, for even their whimsical minds could not ignore a quake of such magnitude as what Marelin had wrought. Even so, the Paper Squire was sure that her intimidating pose and lethal weapon was key to keeping them calm. She pointed her blade at the three witches. “Why are you causing so much trouble?” “We were only curious,” the yellow witch admitted. “We are the Witches of Whim! I am And.” “And I am Anti!” the white witch proclaimed, raising her hoof high to display her broom. “And I’m…” The orange one hesitated and cast her gaze away, undoubtedly in deference to the Paper Squire. “Ben.” “Ben?” asked Pip the Pirate. “I thought Ben was the stallion.” Ben released a mighty groan and hid behind her sisters. “I drew the short straw, okay?” “I don’t care who you are,” Lord Malignant groused. “I want you all off my property!” “Patience, my lord,” Marelin pleaded. “They might be witches, but they are still foals.” The Paper Squire strode before the witches, knowing her commanding presence would draw the attention of all in the room. She turned her gaze upon the three and spoke in her most inspiring voice, the likes of which would surely make her mother proud. “Why are you playing with Lord Mali… Maligi… Uh…” “Malignant,” the oh-so helpful Lady Migraine whispered. “Lord Malignant’s magical stuff?” “Magical stuff?” asked Ben. “Oh!” Anti nodded her understanding, reassuring the squire that these witches may not be as ignorant as they were silly. “We have been trying to conjure our Marks of Witchcraft, but alas, we lacked the power ourselves.” She gestured grandly to the assorted trinkets and treasures. “We had hoped one of these great relics might help us with this task, but it seems it is not so.” “What is she talking about?” Ben asked And. “I dunno,” And admitted. “I think she’s saying we won’t find our cutie marks here.” Anti turned on her fellow witches. “Girls! Get in character!” “You should ask permission before going through ponies things like that,” Pip the Pirate declared, shaking his sword at the witches. “Well said, young Pip,” Marelin added, coming at last among the ponies. “I’m sure if you ask nicely, Lord Malignant would be happy to let you three explore his treasures.” “No, I wouldn’t!” At this time did Lady Migraine approach her Unpleasant Knight and shower him with such affection that it rendered Tom Dumb and G’Rain the Adventurer green with illness. “Ooh, I guess. But only if you promise to be careful!” “Hey,” spoke the Paper Squire, “why don’t you join us in our quest?” And so did she explain her holy mission of candy collection and wicked queen bribery, to the delight of all present. “You might even earn your marks for helping us.” “That sounds like a great idea,” And declared, and her companions agreed. So pleased was the Lady Migraine and Lord Malignant that they gifted the adventurers with the second of the Sacred Treats, the Macaroons of Chocolaty Glory! All seemed well for the adventurers, who soon turned to leave for the next stage of their quest. Yet before they could depart, a great rattling filled the air, distracting all from their task. With a resounding pop did one of the boards of the ceiling disappear, and through the whole stared a great white duck with a pink face. “Oh dear,” cried Marelin, waving her staff at the creature. “It is the Ceiling Duck, the greatest prophet in the land! For what has it come before us?” “B-cack! I mean, quack!” spoke the Ceiling Duck. “Wow, I was expecting a squire, and instead I get witches and adventurers and pirates, oh my!” She stretched an incredibly long wing to snatch a treat from a nearby table, stuffing it wrapper and all into her beak. “Our retinue grows regularly,” Marelin replied, waving to her vast party of allies. “But pray tell us, oh magnificent Ceiling Duck, what portends do you offer us?” “Not what you’re expecting, that’s for sure, quack!” A wrapper dropped from the duck’s beak, devoid of its sugary contents. “Beware of notorious gangsters come for your bounty! Look for them before the fourth hero be reached!” To this Marelin appeared as perplexed as her companions. “Gangsters? Pinkie, that’s not what we—” “Marelin! I am the Ceiling Duck, and I would appreciate being called by my name! If you doubt my Ducky Sense, I suggest you find your own. A good evening to you. Quack!” And thus did the Ceiling Duck depart into the ceiling, trailing streamers of portent and empty wrappers of prophecy in her wake. Left with this perplexing message, the heroes were left with no choice but to continue their journey, although Marelin swore on her staff that she would replace Lady Migraine’s and Lord Malignant’s ceiling board. When the Paper Squire asked Marelin what she thought of the Ceiling Duck’s curious prediction, the wizard responded with amusement. “Do not fret, my good apprentice. Ceiling Duck is just being Ceiling Duck.”