//------------------------------// // Chapter 17 // Story: With Good Intentions // by Hustlin Tom //------------------------------// It was the last week of February. Spring was fast approaching. A time of new life was almost upon the world. The sun had just left the horizon behind it, and was rising to its highest station in the sky. All was as it should be. “You have changed,” Bunsen declared as he looked to the one who had been his student, and he shook his head with a muted smile, “There’s not a trace of the mare I met over three months ago.” Trixie smiled back but waited. He spoke further, “From an angry, lost, and broken soul: you have become something much greater than the sum of all that you once were.” “It’s kind of funny,” she replied, “but somehow it doesn’t feel that way. I can’t explain it, but I’m not sure how much of me is different from who I had been.” Bunsen looked away and nodded as he thought to himself, and then after a momentary pause turned. “Walk with me,” he declared as he exited their training hall. She was not far behind. He opened the door to the basement lab, flipping the lights on as he did. The yellow lights flickered to life, and the old stallion began his descent. When the both of them had reached the basement floor Trixie finally spoke up, “Why are we down here?” “When climbing mountains we focus on the path ahead, and the adversity it brings,” he replied as he approached his old teleporter, then began to check over it to make sure all its components and settings were in order, “It’s only once we look back at the path behind and below that we can recognize how far we’ve come.” Trixie looked at him in confusion, “So, what, am I somehow going to confront my past self?” “Yes and no,” Bunsen replied cryptically, as he picked up the control box to the teleporter, set a timer for a 30 second delay, then switched the array on. The Arcanium coils began to vibrate softly as they warmed up, and the machine began to build its charge to its active burst. The old stallion walked away from his device, leaving Trixie to look at it with some apprehension. She then realized he was trotting back up the stairs, and she looked over her shoulder towards him, “Wait, where are you going?” “You won’t need me for this,” was all he said. “Is this a test?” The old stallion stopped halfway up the stairs and looked back towards her, nodding a little as he said, “Yes.” His brief announcements made, he ascended the stairs and closed the door behind him. Trixie turned back towards the teleporter, unsure of what sort of test he meant for her, but with a quick glance she could see that whatever his trial was the device would activate in 15 seconds. A slight drip of fear trickled into her mind, and apprehension covered her like a fog, but she stood her ground. Her horn preemptively lit up with its magenta hues. Whatever it was she was meant to face she would beat it, that much she knew. The final seconds counted down, and a light built up inside the array’s ribs: 3...2...1. The light faded, and a small body fell out of the machine with a soft thump as it hit the array platform and rolled into the dirt. “Where my coins at,” it grumbled as it sniffed the air around it, its eyes scrunched shut from the blinding burst of light it had been enveloped in, “I don’t smell-” It paused, as it sniffed the air again. Trixie’s eyes had grown wide when it had appeared; it was one of the three Diamond Dogs that had chased her all those months ago. There was a brief spike of fear, but it was quickly replaced by a boiling anger in her blood. They’d tried to take her. They’d wanted to enslave her. “You,” he exclaimed as his nose confirmed the identity of the other person in the room, but he paused. She was different. She wasn’t afraid like last time. That alone was enough to give the dog some sense of trepidation, but as he was now finally able to see her in full with the light fading, he saw just how different she was. She was more toned than before, and the way she stood was not the stance of a timid pony, but a fighter ready for battle. Of the two of them it was now he who was afraid. Even in spite of that fear, his predatory instincts kicked in, and he attacked, rapidly closing the area between them. Trixie’s magic flared. The earth just in front of the dog rose up in a steep incline, and he lost balance as he tripped, rolling over himself into a tangled mess that came to a stop right in front of her. She backed up a few paces, entered her combat stance on her two hind legs, and waited. Once the dog was able to stand, he lunged again, jumping into the air to pounce on her. She met his forepaws with her forehooves, and before he could snap his jaws at her, she conjured a muzzle from thin air around his mouth. His attack thwarted, the dog was caught off balance, giving Trixie just enough time to fall backward, hooves still to paws. Using her magic to support herself in midair, she rolled the two of them over, all while still levitating the both of them, curled her back hooves up into the dog’s chest, and bucked as hard as she could. The little dog shot towards the basement wall as if he were fired out a cannon, and he impacted with such force that the wood paneling cracked and splintered behind him, leaving him to sit in a dog sized hole in the wall. Placing herself down on her hooves, her back legs primed for another kick, Trixie waited for her opponent to get back up. The little dog stirred. After a few seconds of struggling, he managed to pull himself out his hole. Trixie was soon surprised to find that he was not attacking, but cowering against the wall, whimpering softly. Alarmed by how the tables had turned, she approached the dog, but found that he now brought his forelegs up to wave her off, as if they would defend him from her and sweep her away, “No! Please! Mercy, mighty unicorn! Spare me, oh Great and Powerful Trixie!” Trixie’s mind crashed into a screeching halt. That was how she had always wanted to be addressed before. The same level of adulation as what he was displaying, the sense of domination she had wanted it to bring, it had been all she had sought. Now, after these past few months, after all she had learned, to now see one of the ones who had wronged her begging as if for his life, now she saw who she was, and who she had been. She was now more powerful than she had ever been. The old her would have been elated to be in this position. She couldn’t feel anything but disgust for who she had been now. Even so, she actually felt a sense of pity for her would-be slaver, and that was something wholly unexpected. Her breathing evened out as the anger slowly began to fade, replaced by that new feeling. She still had to put an end to this, though, once and for all. “Listen,” she declared softly. The dog’s eyes peaked through his paws, and he became still. “I want you to never come back here,” she said firmly but quietly, “but I also demand you do one thing; don’t try to get rich off of others. Make something of yourself.” “Yes,” the dog nodded rapidly, “Yes, I will!” “Will you do as the Great and Powerful Trixie commands,” she asked, trying to force some sense of authority into her voice. “I will,” the dog exclaimed, then put a claw to his heart, “On blood in my chest, I promise to work for self!” “Good,” she replied quietly, then walked away from him towards the stairs, “Now begone.” The dog quickly launched himself at the earth, scraping the dirt beneath him out and away as fast as he could. By the time Trixie was at the top of the stairs he was long gone. She found Bunsen waiting for her once again in the battle hall, this time sitting in a chair, a book in his hooves. Upon seeing her he immediately set it to the side, and stared at her, scrutinizing her very deeply. After a few seconds he stood from his chair, and walked towards her. “My words were not in vain,” he declared, seemingly to no one in particular. “You wanted to see how I’d handle him,” she asked as she cocked her head. “In the ethical sense, yes. Your combat skills were not among my doubts.” She looked back towards the direction of the basement door, “Why did you leave then?” Bunsen nodded his head slightly, “Consider it a double blind experiment: I put you in a situation you didn’t expect, and while I did not observe it directly, I can see you spared the dog.” He came closer and lightly tapped her chest, “The test wasn’t for my benefit; it was for yours. Only you know the exact details of what happened down there, and only you can truly know who you are when you are alone. You have doubly proven who you are today.” Trixie considered what he said and how she had felt. The empathy that had replaced her anger...it was unlike anything she had felt before. It proved how much she had changed, and knowing that for sure was something truly incredible. “I have no more lessons, no more tests, no more to teach,” he said at last, before reaching behind the seat he had been occupying, “I only have one last thing to give.” Bringing forth his creation, he offered it out to Trixie, who hesitantly took it. It was some sort of weapon, she could see that. It had a large crescent shaped protrusion on it, with a crystalline gem attached to the head where the crescent emerged from the rest of it. There seemed to be some sort of mechanism in its design, something that made it collapsible. With an intuitive touch, she brushed her hoof across a slim lever in the device. Suddenly it unfolded, swinging upward then open, locking into a position parallel with the rest of the device. A second mechanism then activated, and a third section extended outward, a weighted sphere on its end, providing ballast to the whole device. The mysterious gift was, she realized, some sort of collapsing staff, its shape complementing the design of her Cutie Mark very well. “It’s incredible,” she exclaimed with a grin. She then brought her right hoof out and rested the staff on it; it sat in perfect balance on her foreleg. It was designed with the utmost precision and care. Bunsen smiled a little, before he declared, “We’ll need to go outside for you to use it to its full capability.” He gestured back towards the direction of the front door, “Shall we?” “It’s a battle staff, obviously: much like the ones we trained with for all those months. What makes yours special, though, is its internals.” Bunsen gestured to it, “Inside that weapon’s guts is an Arcanium transformer. By imbuing it with a spell, it will amplify your power and area of effect nearly five-fold.” Trixie, with her white hat and cloak on, looked back over her shoulder where she kept her staff strapped, now realizing the full extent of the gift her former mentor had given her. “Go on,” he exclaimed, “Give it a try!” Trixie looked back to Bunsen, who gestured encouragingly to her again. She readied herself, centering her four legs, then took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. She exhaled. Her eyes shot open, she reared up on her back legs, and she reached for her staff. Grasping it and triggering the lever, it opened wide and extended out as she brought it forward around her right side. As she brought it up into her combat stance it completed extending. With a small amount of hesitance, she cast a spell. Her horn lit up, and its light snaked down into her staff. It gathered around the ballast end first, then rapidly wound its way up to the staff’s tip in a counterclockwise pattern. The magical power gathered in the crystal matrix at the staff’s tip. “Hit the lever again to cast your spell,” Bunsen gestured towards the north and the mountains located there, “Aim for the top of the nearest peak.” Choosing her target, Trixie aimed high, and pressed the lever again. The light dimmed for an instant, before it roared to life, erupting out of the crystal along a straight line delineated by the crescent shaped guide. The bright stream of magenta light burst upward towards the nearest mountain’s summit, its wide beam grazing it. The concussion spell had blasted a visible amount of ice off the peak, but the disturbance was also enough to move the snowpack below that which had been removed. In just a few seconds the mountain rumbled, and many tons of snow began to cascade down. The impressive display was over in under a minute: the two ponies were now greeted with the earthen face of a bare peek, its’ snow removed by a gigantic avalanche. Trixie looked down at the device in her hooves and realized what power it held, then quickly looked to Bunsen, “This is...do you really think I deserve this?” He shook his head, “Deserve? No, but you’ve proven to me and I should hope to yourself that you have both the ability to use it, and the restraint necessary for its use.” She looked back down at the staff, and then twirled it, pointing it to her right, then her left. Finally she collapsed it back onto itself, and stored it on her back. Within the hour the showmare had packed for herself some provisions, and was ready to set out for Vanhoover. “It’s time I went back home,” she declared, “I want to see my family for a little bit. From there I expect I’ll move on and help where I can...” “How do you mean,” Bunsen asked. She looked at him with a growing smile, “I want to be able to help others like you’ve helped me. Perhaps being a wandering helper is what will suit me. Plus it will give me a chance to learn and practice my magic more, as I can use my old show techniques to create something new!” The old pony smiled, “Well I wish you the best of luck with your dream.” The young mare abruptly reached for the old stallion and hugged him, surprising him a little. “Thank you so much for everything,” she said quietly, “You believed in me even when I didn’t. You made me realize I could struggle for and expect more of myself.” Stiffly, hesitantly, he put his right hoof around her. “It’s what you needed,” was all he said. “Please take your own advice.” Perplexed, Bunsen looked towards her head, “What are you talking about?” “You act like it’s your destiny to be stuck here forever because you can’t go back to Canterlot,” she explained, “But you don’t need to be there to make a difference in ponies’ lives.” She leaned out of the hug and stepped away, “If even a broken pony like me can be fixed, then I have a feeling that you can be too.” The earth pony’s gaze was fixed on something neither of them could see as he thought on her words. His eyes drifted to the left, but he didn’t say anything in response. After a pregnant silence, all he said was, “You’d better get going: you still want to be able to reach Vanhoover by dark.” Trixie looked at him, a sad kind of smile on her face. “You didn’t stop believing in me,” she declared, “So I won’t stop believing in you either. You’ll keep in touch with me, right?” “Of course,” he replied in a stilted manner, “You know my number, and you know where to find me.” They exchanged soft goodbyes shortly after, and Trixie began her trek away from the manor. Bunsen watched her go for the first mile or so, before he retreated back inside. As the front door slammed shut, he realized now more than ever just how dead the gigantic house seemed. Once again he was adrift. What was he to do now? Wait for the next mare or stallion to stumble onto his doorstep? Hardly likely. He realized just how much he already missed the company of another pony, of Trixie’s company. What she had said though...could he really be fixed? Without expecting it, she had touched him in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time; not since Punnett, Bolera, or Lily. Quite unwittingly, he had become her friend, and she his. It wasn’t too long ago that he had scoffed about the ideas he had been taught, and their futility. He thought the ideas the Princess had taught him had failed him, but now in one of his lowest points here it was again. “Hmm,” he exhaled as he thought to himself. Just as Trixie had changed, a small part of him had too. He thought back to the day they had met and how he had been in the time before then. “Listless,” he surmised of both his past and present, “Purposeless.” He nodded to himself, but then looked up at the hallway in front of him, “but not useless.” Though he wouldn’t have guessed it, his Cutie Mark shone a little brighter, and his coat color was a little fuller. He wasn’t a dead pony walking or a shade; not anymore. Now, he realized, he was just asleep, waiting to be awoken. He ventured back to his study, where he would hold his vigil. There, he waited. He waited for when he was needed. He waited to wake up.