It is frequently said that roani are cursed with wandering hooves and that is why they are incapable of settling down like other, normal ponies.
Trixie didn’t know about the cursed part, but she did have to acknowledge the wanderlust present in other roani she had met. Even before she had become a traveling stage magician, she had never felt comfortable in one place for too long. Another city, another show, or even the road itself, they all called to her at some point in her past.
Trixie trotted down the streets of Upper Canterlot. The last time she was there, she was the little orphan living at Celestia’s School that nopony paid any mind to. When she had finally reached her limit with the constant pressure and rejection of the School, plus the constant scorn the high class had for her, she decided to leave Canterlot behind her in every sense. Trixie never lamented that decision. After all, that’s how her constant roaming through the roads of Equestria began and that’s how she met those ponies she would come to think of as family. In the end, leaving Canterlot gave Trixie far more than the city could ever offer her.
And yet, here she was, walking the same streets she feard when she was a filly and loathed when she became a mare. Trixie couldn’t help but remember her first day in Canterlot. She had just made her most successful escape act from the orphanage in Hoofington by hopping a vegetable cart to a train destined for Canterlot. The train ride was long and she fell asleep not long after sneaking aboard. When she woke up, everything was dark. It took Trixie a moment to realize the train was inside a tunnel, and just when she did, the train reached the light on the other side.
That was when Trixie first saw the city on the mountain.
She still remembered that first impression, as it was by far her fondest of the place. The size, the grandeur, the design and the colors. It was like seeing an illusion inside a dream. But at the same time, it was imposingly solid. Once the train stopped at the station and Trixie managed to sneak away without being seen, she saw the streets of Canterlot right in front of her, with all the movement and life of a cosmopolitan metropolis. It was an imposing feeling, almost as if the city were challenging Trixie, telling her that it was there before she was born and it would still be there after she died.
Trixie took the challenge.
“Uff!” The impact of a lamppost to the face abruptly brought Trixie out of her flashback and back to reality. “Stars freakin’ damn it!” she lamented, reaching under her mask and rubbing her nose. After so long as an unfeeling corpse, to once more be able to experience pain was something she’d have to get used to. Still, it was far preferable to the alternative. Straightening her mask once more, Trixie looked around to see where her wandering hooves had taken her.
“No,” she shut her eyes tight for a moment. “No, no,” Trixie said as she looked again. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no.” She could believe it. Betrayed by her own four hoov-- paws.
They had brought her back to the same building they had brought her to just over fifteen years ago. Away were the memories of the little eleven year-old filly, cutiemark only a few months old on her flank, making her way into the pony capital to seek her future, replaced now by a mare hiding under cloak and mask, lost in her past. Trixie stood still for a moment, realizing just where she was; right in front of the central offices to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.
It was her first time seeing the place since she had turned her back on it when she last left Canterlot. Thanks to Celestia’s eulogy at Trixie’s funeral, combined with the magician’s own big mouth, Twilight knew already about Trixie’s less than spectacular time as student. Although far from outright hating it, Celestia’s School was not a memory Trixie liked to recall.
There were ponies during her time here she had been friendly with but would hesitate to call friends. She could hardly even remember their names after all these years. There were others, though -- young and old -- whose names she would never be able to forget; the professors who looked down on her because she wouldn’t embrace their stodgy book learning; the affluent students who taunted her for being an orphan, only there at the largesse of the school itself.
The good memories, while not as prevalent, were still there to be had. During the annual talent competitions, Trixie had put on her first true stage shows, putting to shame efforts of ponies three, four years ahead of her. That was where she had first gotten a taste for The Show; the drumming of hooves after the completion of a particularly elaborate trick and the chanting of her name -- Trixie! Trixie! Trixie!.
But ponies didn’t make themselves with shows, that’s what she was told. Math and science, transmutation and potions, practical skills. That’s what they pushed on Trixie there. The School was a place for gifted unicorns to educate themselves, to better themselves, and to prepare them for their places in the real world. Not to play at entertainer and make-believe that they were something they were not.
What would those professors say if she saw Trixie now? What would any of them say?
“I need a drink,” Trixie muttered as she turned away and continued heading down the mountain, letting her paws take her where they would.
Trixie always had a fondness for bars. For her, they were the most honest places she could find in any city, town or settlement. She enjoyed being able to leave the masks and pretenses behind from time to time, and through experience, she realized a bar was the one place where that can happen without fear of being judged. Or so she thought. After the Ursa incident, it became almost impossible to enter a bar without being recognized and ridiculed. That was one of the things that hurt Trixie the most and she was determined take full advantage of her new face now.
Upper Canterlot most certainly wouldn’t do for what she had in mind; ponies did not get blitzed in a fancy lounge, bistro, or restaurant unless they wanted it to turn into a minor scandal in the local tabloids. No, for her purposes, Trixie would need something decidedly more low-key. The lower city, with its working-class ponies and working-class establishments, would do just fine. It wasn’t the first time she had come down there after all.
She tried with a couple of places, but the ponies inside turned their heads too quick in her direction for Trixie’s taste. Then again, being almost twice as tall than a regular pony, covered from head to legs with a cape and hat, and hiding behind a white mask, was bound to draw some looks.
The final place ended up being a little dive near the train tracks, run by diamond dogs if the name of the place was anything to go by; who else could get away with naming a bar The Dog's Breakfast? That was a little bit of a surprise to Trixie, since the last time she was in Canterlot, diamond dogs were relegated to the very outer slums of the city.
“Alright, mister,” she said confidently while hitting the bar with booted paw, drawing the attention of the barkeep. He was a large dog, his calloused paws and weathered face attesting to many years of hard manual labor. His eyes, with the thousand yard stare typical of proprietors of such establishments, lit up with the smallest spark of interest upon taking her in. “Now see here. Trixie has died and came back as a spawn of Tartarus.” She took the small bag of money Twilight had given her and tossed it upon the bar. “So give Trixie something that could drown a siren.”
The black and brown dog gave the pile of gold and silver bits the once over before sweeping them off the counter with an appreciative grunt, imparting a second look and nod at Trixie before bending down to fish behind the counter for a few moments. Then, as if the request were one that he heard on a regular basis, he placed before Trixie a glass tumbler and a bottle with the drawing of a siren’s silhouette in black with a red-X over it.
“To your health,” the diamond dog rumbled in a low, heavily accented growl, before pulling the cork on the bottle and pouring Trixie a glass. He turned away and left her the bottle.
Trixie considered his words as she lifted the glass. Part of her wanted to respond with some biting rejoinder, but the rest just settled on returning the sentiment. “Salud.” Lifting the edge of her mask, she knocked back a muzzleful of warm-amber alcohol. Her lips settled into a content smile at the burn in her throat and the feel of warmth as the magically enhanced alcohol radiated out from her belly.
She helped herself another glass, but instead of emptying immediately, Trixie decided to enjoy being back at a bar after so long, and took her time to give a proper look around. She wasn’t surprised that such a place would be popular with all kind of non-equines. There were a number of griffons scattered around, a small group of goats, even a couple of minotaurs huddled around a card game in one of the back corners. In the opposite corner, not too far from the counter, there was a thin looking gray diamond dog, playing a song upon an old, battered piano while barking about towns and poisons. It was small, dingy, and had the air of a place that people could come to drink and not be bothered.
She liked it, it was most definitely her kind of bar.
“To misfits, and marauders, and much maligned miscreants,” Trixie muttered, the toast a favorite of Bootlegger’s, before lifting her glass to them all. The alcohol warmed through her as the first had and she turned back to the bottle to pour another, ignoring the sound of the main door opening and another occupant entering the bar.
“Hey uh, barkeep?” The pounding of a hoof on the bar close by signaled that the new occupant had taken a seat near by. “Can I get a beer here?”
If Trixie still had blood, it would have gone cold as she recognized that voice. Her head came around and she pointed a menacing claw at the pegasus who had just sat next to her. “You!” she hissed.
“Uh, make that two beers. Looks like I’m gonna need ‘em,” Lightning Dust told the bardog.
So much for a pleasant bar in which to while her time away in while being peaceably alone and pleasantly drunk, Trixie lamented to herself.
The bartender was quick to set down the drinks for his new customer and back off equally quickly, keeping a wary eye on the giant, masked mare that was now staring and seething at his new arrival. He’d been serving ponies long enough to know where this was going.
Lightning Dust finished her first glass and started on her second, not even looking Trixie’s way.
“Well?!” Trixie snapped, her serpentine tail smacking the side of the bar. “Aren’t you even going to acknowledge the pony you got killed?”
Lightning didn’t even turn to face her, instead waving a hoof at Trixie in much the same dismissive manner as her school teachers of old. “Legally dead before I did anything, which means I got no pony killed.” She then took another mouthful of her beer.
Trixie’s felt the anger surging inside her, the base of her horn burning hot as she grit her teeth. “Why you arrogant little--”
“Look, miss,” Lightning quickly raised a hoof again to stop Trixie talking. “I know I got away because of you.” She finally turned in her seat to face Trixie. “But I also know you didn’t do it for me.” Just like that, she turned back to face the bar, not looking at anything in particular as she returned to her drink. “So don’t expect any thanks.”
To say that Trixie was livid would have been an understatement. The audacity that this turquoise pegasus had demonstrated, the contempt that she had thrown in Trixie’s face had actually rendered Trixie speechless. Yet far from sitting in stunned silence, Trixie felt a welling up within her, something coursing through her veins. She knew it was the necroplasm that was building and surging, struggling to come to the fore. The dark magic inside her was pulsing in tone with her own demons. Her talons pierced the thick material of her boots as she clenched her paws in anger, glaring at the pony next to her from under her mask.
“Well.” Lightning finished the last swallow of her second glass. She set it down on the bar with a heavy thump and hopped off her stool. “Shall we do this?”
“Do what?” Trixie snarled, her voice a heavy rumble of barely repressed anger as she kept her eye on the pegasus.
“It’s like you said; I killed you.” Lightning stepped away from the bar and ruffled up her wings. “And in the process, I ruined Rainbow Dash’s life.” She raised her head a little to crack her neck. “Not to mention mine,” Lightning added and then sighed. She shook her head and began to bounce around like a prizefighter limbering up before a match. “Alright, I’m properly drunk and in the right mood for this, so let’s do it!” Lightning reared back on her hind legs and thumped her chest with her forehooves. “Bring it!”
Trixie had gone from rage to incredulity in record time, and sat upon her stool gaping at the pony before her. “You want Trixie... to fight you?”
“Yeah.” Dust threw a few punches then bounced back and forward several paces, her wings fluttering to keep her balanced. “We both know we want this. So let’s drop the whole act and let’s just do it.”
“Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha!” The laughter that burst forth from Trixie then could be construed as nothing except the laughter of a madmare. Her sorrowful bemusement earlier in the courthouse with Rainbow Dash was couldn’t compare to the waves of dark, crazed, and frightening laughter that poured out of Trixie now. She stopped to ask, in a voice that dripped with menace and eager, barely constrained malevolence, “You want Trixie to fight you, little filly?” She leaned forward on her stool, burning red eyes wide in delight and her muzzle hanging open enough that the fangs of her lower jaw were visible beneath the mask. “Happily.”
Trixie turned back to the bar and pulled the shredded boot off her foreleg, wanting to be unencumbered for her coming battle, and slapped it on the aged wood before her. “She will be more than happy to teach an arrogant little filly,” the second boot came off and Trixie delighted in the feeling of her claws being free, “that there are consequences in this world.” Her hat was carelessly batted aside off her head. Next was the cape, though its removal didn’t help the burning, near choking sensation around Trixie’s neck. It was mirrored by the sensation in her horn, a feeling that had grown more pronounced as she felt the power of the Amulet well up within her.
It was like Ponyville all over again. Before Trixie was a mare that had ruined her life, that had wronged her, and she was going to have her revenge. Oh, she was going to have her delightful, delightful revenge on this mare.
The mask was of course the last thing to come off. “You say you wanted Trixie to fight you?” Trixie turned back and hopped off the stool, her eyes red and glowing, her lips pulled back in a manic grin to expose her fangs as she shook out her mane in preparation. “Who is The Great and Powerful Trixie to deny a deadmare her final request?”
Yet when Trixie looked before her, she no longer saw the arrogant, confidant mare who had been swaggering about before her, boasting of a fight only moments before. Lightning Dust had collapsed in on herself, her hooves now held close in for protection as he wings wrapped tight to her sides. Her ears, once held upright to signal her readiness fight, had retreated into her golden mane, as her tail had retreated between her legs. Her copper eyes, once filled with nothing but what Trixie believed was disdain were now full of fright and… tears? She faced Trixie, not as some pony unremorseful for what she had done, but as one shivering in absolute abject terror at what she must have surely felt was the personification of divine judgement for her sins.
Like that, the dark tide that had been welling up within Trixie began to recede. “No… it’s not worth it,” Trixie spat in dejection. Turning her back on Lightning Dust once more, Trixie climbed back upon her barstool and poured herself another drink, knocking it back as soon as she had set the bottle down. Trixie patted her chest, where the Alicorn Amulet had replaced her heart and came to a conclusion; it wasn’t her who wanted to beat Lightning Dust to a pulp, it was the Amulet. She realized that the thing holding her back was actually her own underrated and usually ignored conscience. Or, based on the still lingering sting of the restraining ring on her horn and collar around her neck, she hoped so.
“Relax,” Trixie grunted. Doing the right thing wasn’t as fulfilling as Twilight made it sound like. She downed another tumbler of booze. “Although Trixie would… like to indulge herself… in a good barfight, there’s no need of… or gain from it.” She absently waved her empty glass back in the direction Dust was still cowering. “However, if you feel like it… Trixie will accept your… invitation to pay the next… round.”
Trixie looked around at the rest of the bar, having suddenly realized how quiet it had become. Lightning and her were the only two people in the entire place. The rest of the crowd must having beat a hasty retreat during her time under the influence of the Amulet. “And, if you don’t mind… serve the drinks, too,” Trixie added.
She didn’t know whether Lightning would actually do it, nor did she much care at the time. Trixie looked over her ruined boots, sighing at the damage her claws had caused. She put her hat and cape back on, rubbing at the soreness around the restraining collar. The flutter of wings brought her attention around and she watched the unsteady turquoise pegasus vault the bar and try to find them fresh mugs. Lightning’s hooves were still visibly shaking as she poured the drinks. Trixie admired her dexterity at the task nevertheless, wondering if the pegasus had any experience at it. Once the mugs were ready, both mares took them and toasted together before taking one long sip of the beverage. There was a symmetry that Trixie noticed in the gesture.
“Trixie feels the need to ask,” she said, once she finished a good portion of her beer with her first sip. “What did you expect to happen… after the fight with her?”
“Don’t know,” Lightning let her mug hit the bar. “Don’t care.” With a groan, she laid her head on her folded hooves. “I guess I just wanted to get on with it and move on.” Something clicked inside Trixie’s mind at hearing those words. Lightning closed her eyes for a moment, as if she was expecting things to change once she opened them. “Sorry, by the way,” she muttered. “I never wanted to hurt anyone. It just happened.” She hid her face under her hooves.
“‘Never… wanted… to hurt… anyone,’” Trixie rumbled. She could feel the anger bubbling up again and tried to chase it down with another glass of alcohol. “Do you have… any idea… what you did to me?”
“I killed you,” Dust muttered from under her hooves.
“You smashed me against a mountain,” Trixie replied, her voice low and cold. She was studying the tumbler she held in her paw, as though her memories were etched upon each flat section of glass. “Your tornado ripped me away from my friends, and hurled me through the sky. I don’t have wings, I don’t have magic, I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t help but see the cliff face speeding towards me and know that I could do nothing to stop it. That was the most terrifying moment of my life.” Trixie set down the glass and lowered herself until she was level with Lightning Dust. She waited for the pegasus to look up at her. “I felt the first impact. Despite losing feeling in my body for weeks, I felt it. Any ordinary pony would have been dead instantly from that impact.” She paused for a moment, locking eyes with Lightning. “But I wasn’t any ordinary pony. So I felt my body break… and burst... and fall. I felt the second impact. And the third, and the fourth.” Lighting Dust looked like she was on the verge of completely breaking down before Trixie, her lips quivering as she tried to blink back tears. “It eventually all just ran together into a blinding, agonizing haze of pain as I kept tumbling down that cliff face.” Trixie closed her eyes, almost peacefully, despite it all. “The rest was silence.”
Trixie lifted her head and poured another glass of her drink. “That was the worst part. Not dying on the mountain, but after. I know there was something afterwards, that my soul moved beyond this world. I can only vaguely recall it, but there was a sense of peace, and liberation at having moved on. I was finally free.” She slammed the drink back, noting how it didn’t seem to be doing a whole lot for her, despite how much she had consumed. “Then I was pulled back. The Alicorn Amulet ripped me away from that peace, and the next thing I can recall is waking up bound and muzzled, and learning that I almost killed two of my best friends.” She looked down at Lightning Dust, at the trails of wetness through the coat over her turquoise cheeks. “That is what you did to me.”
Lightning pulled herself up and let out a shuddering breath as she wiped her fetlocks over her face. “That’s… that’s just…” She let out a shuddering pant. “Saying sorry… it just… it just doesn’t seem enough, does it? Even.. even though I am, it’s just…”
“It’s a start. Trixie knows this.” She decided on a little experiment and poured a half-glass from the siren bottle, sliding it over to Dust. “Here; drink.”
The pegasus scooped up the glass quickly, almost gratefully, and downed it single gulp. That gulp quickly turned into a series of hacking, wheezing coughs, Lightning’s eyes threatening to pop out of her head. “What… what in the name of all that’s unholy is that?!” she managed to gasp.
Trixie couldn’t help the smug grin she wore. “Apparently something that is truly fit only for a spawn of Tartarus.” She turned the bottle over in her paws. “Though it lacks kick, if Trixie may say.”
Lightning just muttered dire imprecations as she finished off her beer, trying to sooth her abused palate that way.
“It’s curious, you know,” Trixie mused, still holding the bottle. It was nearing empty. She poured herself a full measure of what was left. “Until you said… you wanted to move on… Trixie didn’t realize she knew you… already.” She raised her tumbler, only taking the sip when she saw Lightning’s head rising. Trixie only drank a little before letting the glass down to speak again. “Yes, Trixie knows the kind of… pony you are, Lightning Dust.”
“Yeah, right.” Lightning rolled her eyes and hung her head, tired. “Let me guess,” Trixie was about to reply, but Lightning cut her off, raising a hoof to stop her. “No, wait. Let me take a wild freakin’ guess,” she said, the bitterness in her voice mirrored in her smile. “You have seen ponies like me, wasting their potential, and you know that if I don’t correct my ways, it will end up bad.” She threw her hooves to the sides. “Please, I’ve heard that one so many times that I know it from heart. Save it, I don’t want to hear it anymore. I’m done with everything.” She rested her hooves on the bar, closing her eyes once more.
“Oh, but you haven’t heard… this one.” Trixie replied, not trying to soften her voice anymore. “I haven’t seen ponies like you, Dust. Trixie is a pony like you.” Lightning’s ear twitched, but she didn’t move. “We’re too good for the… common ponies, aren’t we? You and me, Lightning, we’re a special kind… Being careful around others is just… a waste of time.” Trixie folded her paws upon the bar, hunching over and looking at the pony beside her. “Trixie knows how it is… Everything that’s not the best… is not worth giving a damn about.” Lightning looked back at Trixie, realizing she closer now. “And if something bad happens... that’s not our fault. It never is… we’re too good to make mistakes after all.”
“What are you--”
“What is Trixie?!” she interrupted her. “Why, Trixie is you, in a few years.” Lightning tried to get away from Trixie, but her paw flashed out and grabbed her by the shoulder, holding the pegasus in place. “Trixie never wanted to hurt anyone either! Until she did. Until she wanted to pay those ponies back for ruining her dream, only it wasn’t them that ruined it. It was Trixie’s own arrogance and her disdain for lesser ponies that did that. Trixie never apologized in her life, never looked back and never… stopped. Until one day she was. In the most unpleasant fashion imaginable.” Lightning Dust didn't want to listen anymore, nor see the nightmarish creature talking to her. She closed her eyes as fresh tears ran down her face.
“Look at Trixie,” she demanded, leaning closer to the frightening pegasus.
“No…”
“Face what you have done,” Trixie insisted.
“Please,” Lightning didn’t want to do it.
“And at what you will become.”
Lightning opened her eyes and saw two red eyes gazing back at her. She felt like falling inside a dark, endless abyss, but at the same time, there was an undeniable familiarity to it. Lightning knew the monster in front of her was telling the truth, because that’s what she has been fearing since the day of the accident. She did her best to hide it from others, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt her too. But deep inside, where only she could see, Lightning Dust couldn’t help but look at herself and asks if she was a monster.
“Look good and hard… Lightning Dust,” Trixie intoned, “because if you keep flying… the winds that you are… this is where they will lead you… dashed upon the rocks.” It was an old pegasi proverb about recklessness that Trixie had heard once, many years ago and it had the final effect that she’d hoped it would; Lightning breaking into sobs and collapsing on the bar.
Trixie looked down at the fallen mare, defeated and sorrowful. Letting go a deep sigh, Trixie felt the tension drain from her body. She was done being the monster for today. She put her ruined boots over her forelegs to hide her claws once more and then reached out to gently rub Lightning’s back.
“Trixie forgives you… for what you did to her… Now let’s talk about what… happens to you next.”
Twilight paced as she waited at the train station. Although Trixie assured her she would be there waiting for them, the train’s time to depart was getting closer and there was no sign of Trixie anywhere in the station. Pinkie Pie tried to keep her reassured, and to some extent succeeded in making her forget about her worries. But Twilight Sparkle was still Twilight Sparkle, and as Spike usually said, the day she’s not worried will be the day everypony else should be. So naturally, she stayed worried till the last minute. Coincidentally, when the station’s big clock reached the aforementioned last minute, the caped figure of Trixie appeared at the edge of the platform.
The six friends couldn’t help but watch in certain amounts of awe and trepidation at how Trixie, despite her newly added height and bulk, navigated the sea of ponies with only a minimum of fuss. Twilight recalled how she had moved between the tree branches back at Applejack’s farm and was glad to see that Trixie was getting used to her new body. With less than the amount of bumps and apologizes one might expect for a pony of Trixie’s size, she quickly made her way over to the rest.
“Girls!” Trixie called out to them. “There you are!” As she stood in front of them, Twilight and the others could see despite the graceful navigation of the crowd, Trixie’s posture was rigid as a stone. In spite of having her face covered by the mask, Rarity immediately recognized the frustration in her body language.
“Uh, Trix?” Pinkie got closer and put a hoof over Trixie’s shoulder. “Are you feeling alright?” Trixie slightly shook her head at the contact but recovered her composure, even relaxing a little.
“Sorry, it’s been a rough day for Trixie,” she apologized, leaning down to be at the others’ eyelevel. “I just discovered Trixie’s body is immune to alcohol.” She grabbed Pinkie by the shoulders with her claws, shaking her. “Trixie can’t get drunk, Pinkie! And given what's just happened, she feels she may need to start doing so on a frequent basis!”
“Alright, let’s calm down, sugarcube,” said Applejack as she joined the conversation to calm Trixie. “It’s not the end of the world.”
“Probably,” Trixie let Pinkie go, who fell on her back with her eyes still spinning. “But in the eventuality of said end happening, Trixie will be sober as a judge.” She put her forepaws over her mask at the snout height, as if she was trying to bite them. “That’s not an armageddon Trixie wants… to partake in.”
“Nevertheless,” Rarity decided to cut the conversation before they were any later, “our train is already here and it should be leaving in the next few minutes.” She pointed at the clock tower. “I would strongly suggest we get inside our train car and resume the conversation there.” She slowly started to turn around, with Twilight and Fluttershy following while Applejack dragged the still dizzy Pinkie Pie.
Spike spoke up, “Hey, what happened to Rainbow?”
“Rainbow decided to make her own way home,” Trixie explained, not having moved to follow the rest of the girls. “She’ll meet us back in Ponyville. Speaking of, Twilight, do you still have her ticket?”
“I do. Why?” Twilight asked, one ear folded over in suspicion.
“The reason Trixie was late. And the reason she may want to take up drinking as a career choice and not just a hobby.” She sat back on her haunches and beckoned at one of the clouds floating over the station, as if trying to wave it down to her.
A hidden turquoise speck detached itself from the clouds and flew down, landing with perfect accuracy just to the side of Trixie.
In spite of the crowds of ponies in the station milling about them, you could have cut the tension between the group of eight with a spoon. The six nearest the train glared at the abashed pegasus, Lightning hanging her head and wrapping her tail around her hooves.
“Before we depart,” Trixie said, “there’s one last matter… that needs to be addressed. Twilight, would you come close for a moment,” Trixie called her before directing her gaze at Lightning Dust. She not-so-gently nudged the pony beside her. “Trixie’s new acquaintance has something… to say to you.”
Lightning shuffled a hesitant few steps ahead, keeping her gaze down and stood there until Twilight was close enough. She didn’t say anything until Trixie gave her another nudge, gentler this time.
“Uh, look, Twilight, right?” Lightning gestured with her forelegs while speaking. “I… don’t really know how to say this.” Lightning raised her gaze to meet Twilight’s confused expression. “Okay, I’m gonna be blunt here. I know I made a mistake, probably many, and I know you could have get hurt because of me.” She covered her mouth with both hooves while inhaling deeply. “And I know there’s no excuse over my behavior or any of that. But I also want you to know that I never ever meant to hurt you, or anyone. It’s just that it I never really cared about--” she cut herself and stomped her hooves in frustration, looking up at the sky. “Agh, this is as hard as I expected!”
“Lightning Dust?” Twilight asked, her confusion still evident. “Are you trying to apologize to me?”
“Yes!” she snapped at Twilight. “I’m sorry I almost killed you and your friends!” Lightning lowered her hooves, along with her shoulders. As she did so, she also arched her back, assuming a pose of total defeat. “I don’t know if you can forgive me, but I needed to say it, so there’s that.” Lightning straightened herself up and looked away. “Of course, if you can’t forgive me, I’ll understand and--”
“I can forgive you,” Twilight said. Lightning looked again, discovering she was smiling softly at her. “Everypony makes mistakes, I guess.”
“Ha, Trixie told you!” Trixie playfully smacked Lightning’s back with a claw. “Twilight may be a little… awkward, but Trixie knows there isn’t… a single mean bone in her.” She then put an arm over the mare’s shoulders, slightly pushing her forward again. “Now, go on with it.”
Lightning nodded and trotted past Twilight, in the direction of Rarity. She stopped when she was directly in front of the unicorn and coughed a little before speaking again.
“Rarity, right?” She pointed with her right foreleg while speaking. “I’m gonna be blunt here. I know I made a mistake…”
It was almost sunset by the time the train left. Princess Celestia watched as it traveled out of the city, carrying what she knew was her responsibility. It never was easy to be in her position, Celestia accepted that long ago, but that didn’t mean she had become numb to it. All the opposite, as with each passing generation, she couldn’t help but get more involved, despite her best intentions. She already had a three powers system going on to give the ponies some responsibility on their own. But instead of taking the opportunity to leave them to live their lives on their own, Celestia ended up getting more invested in social mechanics and the like.
In the end, Princess Celestia knew she couldn’t live without her ponies. Even if there was a future when she weren’t a ruler, she would do all within her hooves’ reach to stay with them.
“Sigh.”
Celestia looked away as the train turned around the mountain and passed out of her sight. She turned around and trotted inside her chambers, where her sister was waiting for her.
“Luna,” she greeted her. “Thanks for coming.” Celestia took a moment to inspect her sister’s body. “Good to see you’re getting better.”
“Thanks, Tia,” Luna replied with a smile. All the cuts and bruises that Trixie gave her were already healed, and the bones were only a day or two from restoration. “Being an alicorn had to have some benefits to go along all that responsibility.” She snickered at her own commentary. “But enough formalities, sister, I know there’s a reason you called for me to be here.”
“Yes, there is.” Celestia sighed again. Her crown was getting heavier these days. “Luna, tell me, did Trixie really came back from death’s domain?” She took a moment to rephrase her question. “Was her soul already separated from this plane before the Alicorn Amulet pulled her back?”
“Yes,” Luna replied bluntly. “One of Death’s very avatars confirmed it. Trixie was ready to pass to the next plane of existence.”
Celestia snorted in bemusement. “I thought she didn’t like you.”
“That’s an understatement.” Luna looked aside. “But, given the importance of the message and the subject, I don’t think she had any real choice.”
Another tired sigh escaped Celestia. That an active avatar of death talked to either of them was already alarming, but the message itself was indeed even worse.
“Luna, I’ll ask you this, not as a co-ruler of Equestria, but as my sister.” Celestia took off her crown and put it on the nightstand next to her bed. Luna imitated the gesture. “Tell me, when was the last time you saw something like this?”
“Never?” Luna was taken back by the question. “Unless something had happened while I was gone..?” She saw her sister shake her head. “Then no. In all our time together, I never saw anything like this. Of all the dark magic that you or I encountered over the centuries, only during the time of Discord were any fool enough to think they could tamper with death.” She trotted closer to her sister. “Celestia, you know this already, you must.” Luna took Celestia’s hooves with her own. “What are you really getting at?”
Celestia’s only answer was to pull her hoof away from her sister and trod towards her bed. She sat in the edge of it and put a hoof over her forehead. Then, she ran the hoof down her face, as if trying to brush the tiredness off.
“Whatever magic spawned the Alicorn Amulet is a complete mystery us.” She looked at her sister, as if pleading for a moment of rest. “There’s nothing in our archives about it and what it has done so far has been thought to be either a myth or a dream.” Luna moved closer and sat down at the bed’s opposite side. Celestia smiled at her, but her smile disappeared as she spoke one more time.
“Luna, we have exhausted all of our resources on this.” Celestia’s tone became lower, as if she didn’t want her words to be heard by anyone but Luna. “There’s only one last option we can turn to, and I admit I am afraid of it.”
Outside, in the statue garden, something laughed.