//------------------------------// // New Moon: Noire // Story: Phantasmare // by Emperor //------------------------------// Outside of Whinnychester proper there laid hundreds of hectares managed by farmers and the occasional rancher. The further away from the town a pony got, the less attention a farmpony paid attention to a field, with fences keeping out the larger critters and a pinch of magic to prevent the smaller ones. Rodents were especially great nuisances, all too capable of chewing through wheat stalks and causing large amounts of food loss. Trixie didn’t worry too much about this field, however. It had laid fallow during the growing season, after being exhausted the year prior. She had personally examined the area prior to make absolutely certain there was no magical contamination from a previous spell, and had asked permission from Red Fife for use of his field for a magical ritual, easily getting it. “It’s a bit chilly out,” New Moon said from beside Trixie, holding up a flashlight with a wing. It was the only light the two had to go by. The distant stars were but little pinpricks of light in the night sky. “You lived on top of a mountain, Moonie,” said Trixie. “No matter how much weather manipulation goes on in Canterlot, it’s still high enough that you should be used to cool temperatures.” “I know, I know, I was just making conversation,” New Moon whined. “Perhaps I should ask about those three watches you have on your leg. And I told you to call me Australe even in private, I don’t want you to accidentally trip up in public because you use my old name when we’re by ourselves.” “Of course, of course Australe,” Trixie said. A brief gust swept by, causing her to wrinkle her nose as some of her mane hairs brushed alongside her snout. Using a hoof to brush it back behind her neck, she continued her trot, made a little difficult by only having three legs on the ground instead of four. In the process New Moon could see the three watches Trixie had strapped around her one front limb. “Those watches will be important later, but enough of that. Tell me, how goes work?” The batpony mare groaned. “Awful. There was enough dust in that wagon that I swear I have hay fever with how many times I sneezed.” “Still better than standing in front of a door for six hours doing nothing as a guard?” “Oh yes! That monotony was the worst! Even patrolling was leagues better because at last I could move!” New Moon made to say something else, only to leave her mouth hung open. After several seconds, she snapped it shut in embarrassment, then opened it back up to speak again, “Say, isn’t this further out than you’ve ever been since I came here? I didn’t even think your whatever it is let you move this far.” “It didn’t,” Trixie confessed. “Somehow though, I think I’ve been slowly getting better.” Trixie let that statement settle in the air, before she added, “Ever since you’ve come to town, actually.” “Wh—I—that is—” New Moon sputtered, incapable of completing a full sentence. Trixie laughed. With a startle, she realised they had been rare for her in the last year. New Moon’s return into her life, literally barreling her over in the process, truly had sparked a new life in Trixie, even as she had struggled to fully realise her new love for magic. If Trixie could pull tonight off, it would only be going to the debt she owed New Moon. “I’m just teasing, mind you! All the same, it gives me hope I can be out of here soon. My desire to wander has been giving me itchy hooves these last few months, especially every time you talk about the tours you’ve gone on outside of Canterlot.” “You really don’t want to be in Whinnychester, do you?” New Moon asked in a tone that was more matter-of-fact than a question. “It’s not that,” Trixie said. “It’s, um. I love this place. It’s where I was born, it’s where I grew up most of my life. But it’s also the place I left behind when I became a travelling performer, eager to see the world. And it’s the place where my parents died.” “Ah.” A pause. “Sorry.” Trixie brushed it off with a wave of her hoof, “It’s alright. I’ve had time to get over both their deaths. Time enough, in any case, to wonder if there wasn’t something else that was keeping me in Whinnychester. Ah, we’re here!” New Moon stopped at Trixie’s announcement. She switched the flashlight from her wing to her front hooves before she took the air. From the sky, New Moon surveyed the ground below, even as Trixie walked around, checking up that her hoofwork was intact. A large white circle had been etched into the grass, perhaps thirty hoof-lengths in diametre. Further in, there was a half-circle arc, its length perhaps one third of the outer circle. In lieu of a straight line to complete the semicircle, there was a five-sided star, with the one end pointing touching at the middle point of the arc. New Moon swooped in to meet Trixie. “Trixie wishes she could fly like you could,” Trixie said without looking up from the ground. “Heh, perhaps I could learn to self-levitate. Wouldn’t that be something!” “So that’s why you were borrowing some of my tools,” New Moon remarked. The chalk hadn’t seemed too weird, but some of the other instruments had been fairly specialised tools built for precision measurement and drawing. “Why the circle, and the half-circle, and the star then?” “I don’t really know, honestly,” Trixie admitted. “I mean, I could tell you that it works and the elementary magical logic behind each, but the full details would require years of in-depth studies to truly understand. But! The outer circle represents a beginning without end, an end without beginning, eternal renewal. The inner arc and the star represent the energies of the Great Mother, channeled into a focus point.” New Moon took a second look at the layout of the ritual area, before she asked, “Why the half-circle and five-pointed star, though? I’m assuming your focus point as at the middle of the star, but don’t they ruin the symmetry?” Trixie paused her walk around the outside circle, “If I were just drawing on ambient magical energy, perhaps. But I’m not. Remember, I’m drawing on the power of the moon.” “But you can’t even see the moon right now!” New Moon argued, pointing at the night sky. “Of course not,” Trixie said, raising her snout to the sky, a proud look on her face. “That’s why I had to use math and observations to get this right. Look at the star, Australe. Do you see where the middle of the half-arc is, with the one point of the star intersecting? Do you remember where the moon was last night?” New Moon gazed over. Suddenly, the scene of when Trixie had first suggested this ritual came rushing to the front of her head, clamoring to be remembered. “Explain.” “It’s what you mentioned before. New Moon, Dead Moon, Full Moon, phases of the moon.” “…I don’t get it.” “Sorry, I guess it’s more obscure than I thought. A lot of powerful magic used to be conducted at night in accordance with the New Moon, the Half Moon, and the Full Moon. It’s not so common now, but it was popular a long time ago, especially in the Tribal Era when ponies still thought magic originated from the moon.” “So you’re saying, turn the spell into a ritual on one of those nights?” “More than that. The calendar we use is a pony invention, but even pony inventions have power. About once a year, there’ll be a month with two new moons. The new moon is all about rituals of renewal and rebirth, or in your case, being able to lead a new life. The second new moon of a month will be even more magically powerful.” “I know at least that much, about the second new moon that is. They call it a Black Moon.” “Yes!” Trixie at this point was practically hopping up and down, gravity the only force able to keep her from flying off in her enthusiasm. “There’s power in the Black Moon. There’s even more power in symbolism in it being a new moon, just like your name.” “So, doing the spell as a ritual would do what, exactly?” “Trixie needs to work out the calculations, but she believes that-“ “You’re talking in the third-pony again.” “Trix—oh, I am, aren’t I, sorry? Trixie apologises. Oh, there I go again. Sorry, force of habit when, when I get excited, even now.” “Accepted. What were you going to say?” “Where was I? Oh yes, my calculations. I believe it possible the power of the ritual under the black moon will make the changes in your physical appearance permanent.” “Permanent meaning?” “Absolutely permanent. No detection spell on the planet will be able to pierce it. I—I’m sorry to say this, but I hope you weren’t too attached to your old looks.” “…it’s fine.” “Is it really?” “Not really, no, but that’s the now. Give me a day and I know I’ll have gotten over it. For now, tell me more.” “Well, you see, the ritual needs to take place on a black moon. Luckily, it happens only a few months from now, but it’ll be cold out…” New Moon had gotten over it. But she still needed to make sure it would actually work. “So you’re saying—“ New Moon cut herself off, excited as she worked out the math in her head. Trixie had been mum on the more intricate details of the ritual, but New Moon had seen that devious personality of hers at work more than a few times since they had reunited. “Are you certain you’ve perfectly calculated where the moon is right now?” “Perfectly,” Trixie said with a nod. “We’re rather fortunate, too. Eramtrotsthenes’ Second Principle says we have a period of about fourteen seconds to do this in. If we do it too early, the magic won’t work a second time tonight, so our first, our only attempt needs to be within those fourteen seconds. I want to do it about seven seconds in, so even if I’m off by a few seconds we should still be safe.” “If we screw this up, we won’t be able to do this again for nearly another year,” New Moon observed. “Then let’s hope we don’t,” the unicorn mare said before she took a running start, her leap clearing her over the outer circle. “I don’t want to disturb the chalk at all, I took quite some time making this as perfect as possible,” Trixie explained before New Moon could even ask. “That this area was fenced in means no bigger animals would have messed it up, but there could have been smaller pests.” “It looks fine to me,” New Moon said as she continued to flap her wings, directing the brunt of the flashlight’s illumination just ahead of Trixie for the other pony to continue her examination on the inner figures. “As perfect as possible,” Trixie repeated herself. The meadow fell into silence as New Moon had nothing to say to that. Instead, the batpony lapsed off into thought as she hovered above the ground, thinking of the possibilities that would open up were this ritual to succeed. No longer would she be confined to Whinnychester, relying on the big heart and open hooves of her fillyhood friend. She would be able to go out into the wide, open world again and do whatever she wished. The panic New Moon had allowed herself to fall into upon her father’s death would no longer trap her and bind her to this little slice of the earth. Perhaps she may even be able to meet her mother again, albeit under a permanent disguise. But then she thought of Trixie. Trixie, who had been psychologically crippled to the point that Whinnychester’s borders seemed an insurmountable barrier for her to cross. New Moon still woke up in the night crying at the thought of her father’s sudden death, but even she hadn’t been brought as low as the other mare, who had dealt with three tragedies in the space of little over a year. What was to become of Trixie if New Moon left? “Done,” Trixie said aloud, interrupting New Moon’s train of thought. “Can you sit in the centre here, Australe?” New Moon wrinkled her nose. Even as she had asked Trixie to use that new name, New Moon still hadn’t even begun to internalise it. With a sigh, she lowered herself, bleeding what little altitude she had. With grace born of a life of flying, she dropped into the centre of the five-sided star, not even taking a stumble as she landed. “Turn around to face the black moon, please.” The batpony followed the instructions, turning around slightly. “Does it matter if I stand up or sit down?,” she asked. Trixie frowned, before looking at the three watches on her limb. “You will want to be standing up on all fours. Symmetry over as many planes as possible is desirable. We have about twenty minutes left before the moon is perfectly lined up with the star. I didn’t need to make any changes, thankfully.” “Trixie,” New Moon spoke. “What do you plan to do if this works?” “Pardon?” “If this works, I’ll be leaving Whinnychester, but what about you? For all your talk of learning magic again and being able to teleport, I’ve barely seen you come out of your shell around anypony but Einkorn and myself, and him just for casual sex.” Trixie blushed at that last comment. “This isn’t the time to talk about that.” New Moon made to argue, but stopped. “Perhaps you’re right. But we’re going to talk about this later.” Trixie grit her teeth, but was happy to let the conversation drop. Time passed, and New Moon occasionally shivered when a cool breeze swept through the midnight air, robbing her of precious body heat. Trixie had insisted on no clothing, and the sanctity of the circle couldn’t be disturbed by even a simple heating spell. Only the prospect of what was coming up energised her. At last, Trixie looked at the three watches on her limb. “Five minutes left,” she said, before looking over at New Moon. “Say.” “What?” “What has it been like, having, you know, a visible Cutie Mark?” New Moon blinked. That was what Trixie wanted to ask, with the zero hour closing in? “I don’t know, what has it been like having a visible Cutie Mark since you were ten?” The batpony snarked. “You know what I mean,” Trixie said with a deadpan look. New Moon said, “Well, honestly? It’s, well, it’s been a wonder. Not many ponies even knew Cutie Mark Albinism was a thing, so I would always get stares whenever I went out into public. Here’s an adult who doesn’t have her Cutie Mark, what’s wrong with her? It was even worse going out on tour in some of the smaller towns, some ponies there actually thought batponies didn’t get Cutie Marks.” Trixie snorted at that and said, “Ignorant fools.” “Yes, ignorance,” New Moon said. “But even if I knew they were ignorant, their stares still hurt. I always felt as if I was being judged, that other ponies pitied me for supposedly being ‘incomplete’, even if I knew otherwise. The days I’ve spent in Whinnychester…the townspeople don’t look at me with those eyes. If it weren’t for what drove me here, I would say it’s been some of the happiest days of my life.” “When did you figure it out, actually?” Trixie asked, feeling the topic suddenly get uncomfortable. “That you had your Cutie Mark, that is, but it was invisible.” “When? Let me think,” New Moon said, rearing her head back and looking directly up at the sky, where the black moon was due to pass over within the next few minutes. “Only a few days before you first arrived, actually. When the Cutie Mark specialist diagnosed me, it was one of the best and one of the worst days I’ve ever had. Then you came to live with us, and the year you spent at the School and staying with us brought me out of the funk. You are my best friend, Trixie, and I don’t want to leave you behind in Whinnychester.” Trixie didn’t know what to say. Instead, she looked at her wristwatches again. “One minute,” She announced. “Please stay in that position. Keep your head raised up. Lower it just a little bit, raise it up again, yes, there, your head’s pointing right at where the moon should be. Try to keep your eyes straight as well, yes, yes, just like that.” She sighed as her fillyhood friend was rigid as a statue. The moment of truth was fast approaching. Now she would be able to see if her magical theory was correct. “Fifteen seconds,” Trixie said. All three of her watches ticked down. Ten, nine, eight, seven…Trixie turned off her flashlight and threw it behind her, away from the outer circle. Lowering her head down to the grass, her horn lined up perfectly with the five-pointed star. Trixie cast her spell. Instantly, power filled her, power that frightened her, a power that she hadn’t felt since the moment she had first donned the Alicorn Amulet. She had even less control this time, as the radiance of the black moon took her over, made her nothing more than a vessel of magic. Only the sheer power of will that Trixie had developed over the years, the same will that had seen her get back up on her hooves again and again, allowed her to direct the magic into her spell. The world was black. The world was white. The world was cold. The world was hot. An ethereal presence infested her, and every second was a war to stay in her body one second longer. She saw New Moon with something more than her own eyes. The batpony was being bathed in magic, by the invisible light of the black moon. The unicorn mare who was an outlet of the celestial body’s magic widened her eyes in surprise, as New Moon’s very identity was changed. More than she had ever expected, the other mare’s being was reshaped, her Cutie Mark erased and etched over, her form growing, becoming something new. Then the black moon’s revolution around the planet took it out of the direct path of the circle and star. The world disappeared under her hooves. “Trixie? Trixie? C’mon Trixie! Your body’s alright, please tell me your mind wasn’t fried!” “Guh?” “Oh, thank goodness, you’re awake!” New Moon had stayed in position during that entire ordeal. It had felt like a lifetime, even if it was only for a few seconds. She had wanted to move, but the sheer power she felt had scared her stiff. Every magical sense she had inherited from her father, the feeling of the earth under her hooves, the radiation of magic on the waves of air, the ethereal flow of manipulated energy, the otherworldly sense of the Changelings to magical stimuli, all had screamed at her to stand still. “Gurgh…did it work?” New Moon surveyed herself. Her new skin no longer felt alien. “I think so,” she said. “What happened, Trixie?” The unicorn found footing with her front hooves, staggering her way up into a sitting position, using her haunches for support. “The power of the black moon was stronger than I thought,” Trixie said in between heavy pants. “It nearly consumed me. I think I know why now few ponies attempt to cast rituals under it. If I had lost control, it could have put me in bed for several months.” New Moon’s eye twitched. She wanted to scold Trixie for not realising how dangerous it would be. She really wanted to. Yet, the batpony knew Trixie had done this for her, and felt she couldn’t. Instead… “You were floating, you know,” she said. “Maybe it took lots of power to achieve it, but I saw you. You were hovering above the ground that whole entire time you cast the spell.” Trixie blinked. “I, really? Then maybe it’s possible to learn how to-no, forget that.” She gently shook her head, still feeling disoriented. “Your Cutie Mark, it’s permanently changed.” “Yeeees,” New Moon said, not sure what Trixie was getting at. As she looked over at her flank again, the black crescent moon practically shone, an oddity for its colour. Even more than feeling familiar in her new skin, the Cutie Mark just felt right. “No, you don’t understand,” Trixie said. “It’s not an illusion. I mean that your very Cutie Mark itself has been changed.” New Moon froze, even as her thoughts rushed at thousand hoof-lengths a second. “Ah, are you alright, Moo-er, Australe?” Trixie asked, moderating her voice tone to keep the panic out. “Noire.” “Huh?” “Noire, that’s my name,” said the batpony. “My mother hailed from one of the Prench islands, and my father pretended to be, and they both taught me a little of the Prench tongue. I was reborn under a black moon le Lune Noire. It’s only fitting, isn’t it, that I rename myself after both of them?” Noire asked, and then blinked. In the months of going under an alias in Whinnychester, she had never even come close to internalising herself as ‘Australe’, and yet within a few minutes, Noire had been able to do that. The black moon’s power truly was a terrifying thing. “I see. Noire. Noire, Noire, Noire,” Trixie tried the name out, letting it roll off her tongue. “It fits you.” “It does, doesn’t it?” Noire asked. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from her body. Wait a moment, Noire thought to herself, surveying her frame once more, then looking back to Trixie. “You seem, smaller, somehow. Did that magic do something to you?” Trixie wrinkled her snout. “Do something to me? I just told you, it changed your Cutie Mark. But no, it did more than that. You’re taller than you were before, Noire.” “Say what?!” The seriousness of the moment had passed. Bemused, Trixie motioned her head away from the field, the circles and star she had etched out no more now that their purpose had been achieved. “C’mon, let’s go home. I’ll show you in a mirror.” Noire sighed. Between the sudden exhaustion in her wings and Trixie's sure magic exhaustion, they were going to have to make that trip by hoof. At least they could finally get out of this cold. “Not a couple of inches, it’s less than that,” Noire said, twirling around and craning her head back to look at her rear end in the mirror. “But I think there’s a difference, what do you think, Trix?” Trixie frowned, wracking her brains and attempting to remember what Noire had looked like before, it having been several months since Trixie had cast the illusion over her. “I don’t honestly know for certain, but I think that’s your actual height,” she said. “I believe I made your false form very slightly taller than when you were New Moon, but from your own perspective you were the same height. I think it has to do with your Cutie Mark. I’ve heard a few cases of foals having an accelerated growth for a few weeks following getting their Cutie Mark, so maybe actually changing your identity ever so slightly changed your body?” “Could be,” Noire replied. Trixie had fired off every detection spell she could think of, including the Changeling detection spell, and even a few heavy duty magic dispelling cantrips. They had all fizzled over her form. As far as anypony could tell, this was the colour scheme Noire had been born with and the Cutie Mark she had always had since she first got one. “Remarkable is what it is,” Trixie said. “If it weren’t for, well, the clandestine nature of this all, I’d have written into one of the magical journals. That, and the lack of documentation of your appearance before the ritual versus afterwards.” Noire gave her new face one last look, amber eyes melting into amber, before she broke away. “Trixie, I don’t think I’m going to stay here too much longer, maybe a few weeks until the worst of the winter temperatures passes. What are you going to do?” Trixie sighed, before suddenly smiling, and said, “I’m glad you asked, Noire. I’m coming with you!” The batpony recoiled in visible surprise. “Seriously? I thought you couldn’t, you know, leave.” Trixie made to speak, before she halted herself. The unicorn took in a deep breath, then exhaled. “You weren’t the only one reborn in that wave of magic,” Trixie said. Noire took a few moments to process that statement, reconciling the indirectness of Trixie’s words with what the two had just talked about. It didn’t take her long to clue in. “So you think whatever problems kept you here, you’re past it now?” “Not quite,” said Trixie. “I’ll always miss my mother and father, but now, now I feel free, free to go wherever I want and do whatever I do.” Her voice softened as she seemed to reminiscence, “I’ve learned to love Whinnychester all over again in my two years here, but I’m done mourning, no, more than that, I’m done pitying myself. I gave up my performing career when I found my hooves inexorably stuck to the earth here. Now I’ll give up the loose network of friends I’ve rediscovered here. But it’s been so long since I’ve performed.” Trixie let out a whimsical sigh. “I can’t see myself doing that anymore, at least not full-time. This time, I think I’ll explore the land. I’ve saved up enough money over the last few years, and we can go quite some time on just grass and emotions. I've stored up more than enough energy from the past two years I've been living in Whinnychester with no real need to use it when my regular unicorn magic will suffice. If we get into a troublesome situation, I still have that on hoof.” “Explore, huh?” Noire mused aloud. “Do you even have an idea of where you want to go? Equestria’s changed in the two years you’ve been here. There’s a new castle, the frontier towns of the south are finally hitting their stride, heck, I heard a rumour right before I flew the coop that Equestria has re-established contact with the land of the Yaks. Heck, perhaps we could even go across the western ocean, to a new continent altogether.” Noire hung her head low at that. “I really would rather stay in Equestria, though. I can’t imagine leaving her altogether.” Trixie marveled at the many choices Noire had given her. It was true, this was a time of change, when multiple villains appeared to have sprung out of the background to reappear once more, the expansion of Equestria, and the coronation of not one but two Princesses. Speaking of a new Princess, Trixie thought to herself, That gives me an idea. “The Crystal Empire,” Trixie pronounced. “Hmm? The Empire?” Noire looked up. “You want to go there? I haven’t been there yet.” “The glamour and the ideal of a city lost for a thousand years attracts me,” Trixie admitted. “It’s more just that, though. It’s what I’ve heard about the Crystal Heart, as an artifact capable of lifting the spirits of all who reside within the land and protecting them from Eternal Winter and the Windigoes.” Noire deduced her friend’s unspoken motive quickly. “I’m pretty certain at least one of the Changeling hives would have already infiltrated the Empire if the Crystal Heart was even remotely capable of supply them.” “True,” Trixie said. “But is it that they’ve tried and failed, or that they get something from them but it’s not worth trying to take over the place?” Noire swallowed. “We could always go south and ask her, you know. At least, her hive is the only one I know the location of.” Trixie frowned. “I’d rather not, at least, not yet,” she said. “Father told me I was at little risk going to the Badlands, but, no, not yet. Even with the magic I’ve studied in the last few years, I want to stay away. She’s a Queen, I feel as if I need to at least come close to matching her first. I just managed to create a permanent illusion spell, something that in all the books and journals and documents I've read takes a staggering amount of power, and I did it all by myself. Even if I had to harness an external power source, I created the spell and the circle for it to work in, and directed the energy of the moon into the spell. The Crystal Empire was displaced by a thousand years. I don't doubt most of their magic is inefficient and outdated, and I bet most of the academia have already scoured the libraries and royal archive there. But until I find something, anything to better myself, I would rather not talk to her.” “Yeah, but like you said, she’s a Queen,” Noire snorted. “Unless you can consciously wield at any time the amount of magic you had out there, I don’t think you would match up to her, even if you learn something new in the Crystal Empire. But, you know what, that’s actually your decision. I want to protest, but somehow I get the feeling I’m going to be following you instead of you following me. I mean, I owe you big-time, regardless. You took me in, you gave me a roof over my head, and you helped me through a tough time.” Noire choked back a sob and said, "Then, this. Even beyond my physical appearance, I, well, I never detested my old Cutie Mark, but it's nice to have something visible on my flanks. So yeah, you go somewhere, and I'll be right behind you." Trixie smiled joyously, eyes threatening to unleash tears onto her dry cheeks. “Thanks, Noire,” Trixie said, sweeping up the batpony into a hug. “You’re welcome,” said Noire. Despite her words, Trixie couldn’t help but frown as soon as she knew Noire couldn’t see her face. She thought back to what she had said about travelling to see the Crystal Heart. That was mostly the truth. Trixie, however, held back the one thing that she knew would cast a pall of distrust upon her. She desperately wished to keep Noire as a travelling companion, and so would never confess the one thing she had omitted. When Trixie had been possessed by the power of the black moon, it was like she had unlimited power, a repeat of an incident from a few years before. The taint of the Alicorn Amulet may have finally disappeared, but she hungered for the strength she had felt in those moments once more. More than just raw energy, she wanted, thirsted for Power. Perhaps the Crystal Heart would supply that. “We’ll miss you, Trix,” The slate-furred stallion said, eyes watering up as he hugged the unicorn mare. Trixie held in a snort. While she had chatted with Einkorn many times over the last few years and considered him a genuine friend, Trixie had an inkling much of his enthusiasm came from something else. Well, she would miss him too, having known him for quite a time in both senses of the word. She patted his barrel with her hoof, “There, there, Einkorn,” she said, trying to reassure the younger pony. “You knew I wasn’t going to stay around forever, didn’t you?” “Th—that’s true,” Einkorn sniffed, looking up so eyes the shade of basalt met violet. “But, you did get my hopes up with how long you’ve stayed here.” “That’s also true,” said Trixie. “I had a lot to work out once I learned my father had gone missing and likely dead. But once I did, well, Whinnychester may be my home…” “But idle hooves are itchy hooves,” Einkorn completed for her. The two shared a short chuckle at that. He had been surprised to see her return home and stay there after she had left shortly after she grew up, going on about her wanderlust. Every day Trixie had stayed must have stunned him again and again. Trixie broke the hug off, turning around only to come face to face with Morning Star, the town doctor. The good doctor removed the bubble pipe he had been idly blowing out of off-and-on from to speak, “Now now, Bellatrix, Bella, Trixie, whatever name you want to use, if you ever get tired of the road we’ll always welcome you back with open hooves.” “It’s Trixie,” Trixie said. “I’ll eventually return, I just don’t know when.” “We’ll keep your house maintained until then,” said Straw Thatcher, a golden-furred mare who was one of the few pegasus living in the village and the closest thing Whinnychester had to a village mayor. “I’m sure I can find a pony or two to rent the place out to during the harvest season, too.” “That would be perfect, thank you very much,” Trixie said. She scrunched her muzzle, and poked a hoof at the batpony to her side, “C’mon, Australe, speak to the crowd.” “Huh, oh, right,” Noire said. She had fallen off into a daydream as Trixie had spoken with a procession of villagers. Noire had met many of them, but she had forged no more than a tenuous connection with all but a few. This was Trixie’s time to shine, she had thought. Noire flapped her wings, taking to the sky. It wasn’t meant to be an intimidating gesture, she just wanted to be able to see all the ponies that were there. It wasn’t quite the couple of hundred ponies that called Whinnychester home, as many of them had already said their goodbyes in individual conversations. Still, an impressive number, about thirty ponies, had turned out to see the two off in pony as they departed just after the morning sun appeared over the horizon. “Thank you all for coming,” Noire said, taking a mid-air bow, a tricky maneuver to get the meaning of across. “You know, when I first came here, I thought it might be a little difficult to get work, heck, to even fit in, but you ponies treated me like one of your own and found me something to do. It’s a lonely thing, you know, having idle hooves as Einkorn mentioned here, though I think he meant it in a different context.” There were a few laughs at that. One of the laughs was a distinctly nervous chuckle. “You’re always welcome to a job if you ever come back, Australe,” Winter Wheat said. “You managed to clear a year’s worth of maintenance backlog in two months, and I appreciated that.” “If I do, I’ll take you up on that,” Noire said as she lowered herself back down to the ground, regretting only that she no longer basked in the rays of the morning sun from her lower ground position. Somehow, she had the feeling this was the last of Whinnychester she would be seeing for a long, long time. Red Fife marched forward. He was one of the oldest stallions in town, and the pony whose field Trixie had gotten permission to use for her ritual. With a mild harrumph, he rose a hoof and gave Trixie a gentle noogie across her mane. “You take there, kiddo,” the red-furred Earth pony said. “I knew your ma and your pa well, they wouldn’t have wanted you beating yourself up forever. You go out to Equestria, do what you gotta do, and take ‘er by storm.” Trixie’s eyes watered, and she held back a sniff. She at least wanted to maintain her dignity in front of these ponies. “Thanks, Mr. Fife,” she said. “I’ll miss you, and all of Whinnychester.” She and Noire traded some more goodbyes with the crowd, but already the farewell party was breaking off, as several ponies had drifted off, returning home. At last, it was left down to Noire and Trixie. “Once we leave, I’ll never go by the name of Australe again,” Noire suddenly remarked. “That feels a little bit strange.” “Does it really?” Trixie asked, checking her saddle bags one last time before leaving. All of her supplies and bits were where she had left them. The two had considered building a wagon for the road, but Trixie had ultimately vetoed the idea. Never mind that they were going to take a train on several occasions, which would cost a staggering amount of bits. She wasn’t a particularly superstitious pony, but the last two times she had hitched a wagon around, disaster struck. Trixie wasn’t certain she could take the heartbreak over the loss of a third wagon. Besides, she had the feeling she was to chart a new road in her life, one that a wagon simply wouldn’t fit in. “No, not really,” Noire said. “It never really was me, you know? But the instant I came under the power of the moon, I was Noire.” “A total change of identity, a rebirth under the black moon,” Trixie mused, finally beginning to walk. She calculated her steps against her hoof-length. “If we make good timing, we should be in Fillydelphia by mid-afternoon.” Noire fell into lockstep beside Trixie, “If I recall, there’s an overnight train leaving from Fillydelphia. It, it bypasses Canterlot entirely, going through the Unicorn Range and making a stop in Vanhoover. Then from there it goes past the Galloping Gorge and finally to the Crystal Empire. It makes that entire trip in about twenty hours.” “So we should be there early evening,” Trixie said. “Enough time to book a room, and perhaps even to examine the Crystal Heart, if it truly is on public display as you say.” Noire nodded in assent, and the pair of ponies fell into silence. The two continued, walking down the western road leading out of Whinnychester. Soon, the flat valley that Whinnychester had been founded in gave way to rolling hills, ones that went up more often than they went down, giving the two ponies greater altitude. Even with her wings, Noire still stayed on her hooves. There was a romantic sense to using her four lower limbs, leaving the town that had housed her for a few months behind at her back. At the top of one especially large hill, Trixie paused, before looking back behind her, at the shrinking town of Whinnychester. She honestly didn’t know if she would ever return here, even as her id, ego and superego all proclaimed that she must. Trixie had said her goodbyes, but she felt as if she had forgotten something. Suddenly, it came to an epiphany. As the wind cast in through the valley, Trixie whispered to herself, “Goodbye, mother. Goodbye, father.” Turning back around, she continued trotting along the road, catching back up with Noire. Seconds later, she added to that, “Who dares, wins.” The crescent moon set over the eastern sky, as two ponies whose Cutie Marks were linked to it left the land of wheat behind.