Plight of Foal's Betrayal
Spike strutted in that manner in which only dragons can strut. It was a strut born of the instinctual awareness that the blood of tyrants and living forces of nature flowed through the strutter's veins, that the only thing distinguishing passersby from lunch was a good mood, that the strutter was simply better than everypony else in at least a one-mile radius. It would illegal to walk in such a manner without wearing sunglasses if there were a six-foot-tall dwarf handy to arrest the offender.
The young dragon's reason for deploying his swag could be summarized in one word: Rarity. Surely the most beautiful creature in Ponyville would be enamored with his newly mature look. The possibility of failure was not even dignified with consideration. She. Was going. To love him.
As Spike approached the Carousel Boutique, an odd sound broke through his monomaniacal confidence. He stopped as he tried to identify it. A high-pitched whistling shriek, growing louder, akin to when Rainbow Dash—
His train of thought was derailed by a nearly supersonic Ditzy Doo blasting through the door of the shop. Understandable, given that the resulting shockwave sent him flying headfirst into a hedge.
Once Spike extricated himself from the shrubbery, he rushed to the doorway. Rarity could've been hurt! And, you know, other ponies. Once he reached the entrance, the young dragon stopped to take in the scene, a muttered "Holy guacamole..." escaping his lips.
The pegasus had left an incredible wake of devastation, tearing apart floorboards and shattering windows as she'd burned off momentum. Now she stood atop a prone Rarity. Spike couldn't see either mare's expression, but it was pretty obvious that "friendly smile" would not be an accurate guess.
The dragon approached the two, ready to defend the object of his desire, but was stopped in his tracks by Ditzy's voice. Her tone made Twilight on her worst day sound heavenly by comparison. She spoke one word at a time, partly for emphasis, partly as a concession to her burning lungs. "Where. Is. My. Daughter?"
Rarity disdainfully glanced at each forehoof pinning her down before turning to their owner. "Try asking politely, dear. It works wonders."
Spike couldn't see it, but up until now, Ditzy's eyes had been glowing a harsh blue-white. Rarity's uncaring response had her literally seeing red, as her newly crimson gaze reflected off of the unicorn's coat. Arcs of electricity began climbing up her spread pinions. She snorted furiously, sending out a shower of sparks. "Unless you want to fry along with the building, you will tell me where Dinky is." Spike resumed his approach, ready to protest. "Please." This last syllable was punctuated by a spat puff of flame and a young dragon stopping out of fear.
The fashionista continued to be unimpressed. "Well, since you asked so nicely. Trixie?"
"Not exactly." The pegasus craned her head to the staircase behind her. There was the cerulean unicorn, with another one of those damn crystals over her horn. And with her, wrapped her magic, was
"Dinky!" Ditzy raced to her daughter, but skidded to a horrified halt halfway. Her pupils shrank as she took in the jewel sunken into her child's forehead, looking grossly disproportionate on one so small. She felt the rage return, but the brief interruption in adrenaline had been enough. The strain the blonde had endured to get here so quickly presented its bill, and she collapsed, exhausted.
As she struggled to keep her eyes open, the grey mare looked to Dinky. The filly looked back, a sad smile on her face. "It's okay, Mommy. You'll understand soon."
Tears streaming down her cheeks, Ditzy Doo lost consciousness.
Ravnica, years earlier
"You put a what in my what!?"
As out of context dialogue went, reflected Tezzeret, it didn't get much better than that. "I inserted a very fine wire of etherium through your ear and into your auditory cortex, allowing me to provide real-time translation with my every word. Once the heuristics had a firm grasp on how your brain processes language, I could and did scale it down to a minute bead."
All this technobabble didn't seem to placate Ditzy. "A bead that's still in my brain."
The artificer shrugged. "I didn't hear you complain about having a demigod in there. What difference do a few micrograms of metal make?"
"It... I... You..." The pegasus felt the reason was obvious, yet found herself at a loss for words as to what it was. Finally, she spluttered, "Because!"
Tezzeret hummed at this. "Well, under the weight of such devastating logic, I would be remiss if I didn't offer to turn it off." He considered the finger joints of his etherium arm. "Of course, you'd have to develop your own translation method. Or, horror of horrors, actually learn languages."
Ditzy chewed the issue along with her lower lip. "I..." She slumped. "I guess I just don't like the idea of ponies—"
"People."
"Right, sorry. The idea of people screwing around with my brain. At least, with me not knowing it."
The human nodded. "I couldn't agree more."
The incredulous look this provoked was only enhanced by its bearer's off-kilter eyes. "Then why did you do it to me?"
"Because it wasn't my brain," answered a smiling Tezzeret. His smile only widened as he watched the young pony pass through brief confusion, shock, and petulant anger. Finally, he added, "Also, I needed some way to communicate with you and assure you of my good intentions, and seemed unlikely that you'd have the patience and proper mindset for foreign language courses."
Ditzy scratched at the rock that made up the sky reservoir. "Yeah..."
Tezzeret's expression returned to its usual neutrality. "In any case, the man to whom I will be sending you has a tendency to read surface thoughts almost as unavoidably and reflexively as you perceive mana. He is also terribly skilled in more advanced mind magics."
The pegasus felt a pit forming in her stomach. "Great. So what's the good news?"
This got another smile out of the human. "Two things. One, just being aware that such magics exist allows you to exhibit a subconscious resistance to them." "Two," and here his smile became far less pleasant, "he is, for good reason, very afraid of me. Here's the plan..."
Jace Beleren adjusted himself in his chair, redipped the quill in his hand, and sighed. If he had known that leading the Infinite Consortium was not something that could just be walked away from, he might have left it in Tezzeret's mismatched hands. Assuming, of course, that such a course of action wouldn't lead to death at the hands of the madman.
Still, reflected the prodigy, he'd made his multiplanar-mercenary-corps-controlling bed, and now he had to sleep in it, even if that meant a disturbingly calm Esperite swearing an everlasting vendetta against him. Or, for that matter, dealing with an onslaught of paperwork that was nearly as bad as the world-consuming monstrosities that had caused it. Wait a second. "Why couldn't I just let everyone think an Eldrazi ate me?"
"I, for one, am glad you didn't, Master Beleren."
Jace looked up. Silurdex, his head archivist (not a secretary, as the vedalken insisted,) had entered his office without his noticing. With yet another stack of paper.
Noting his superior's sorrowful look, the blue-skinned humanoid offered a small but genuine apologetic smile. "More dispatches from Zendikar, I'm afraid."
The human held back an urge to drive his head into the desk. "'Get everything and everyone out of there,' I said. Why is that so hard?"
Detecting rhetorical questions had never been Silurdex's strong suit. "The Consortium has invested heavily in the plane, Sir. We are simply too well established for a quick, clean pullout."
"Fantastic. Anything notable in the latest batch?"
The archivist extracted one sheet from the sheaf. "It would appear that Jwar Isle has been lost."
Jace straightened himself at this. "What, the entire outpost?"
"No, Sir. The entire island."
The mind mage considered this for a moment. "Ah."
"Indeed, Sir. Also—"
The next interplanar memorandum was interrupted by an eagle screech. Both men turned and beheld a griffin hovering just outside the office's large picture window.
Silurdex was largely unflapped. "Shall I have someone shoo it away, Sir?" After a short interval, he turned to the prodigy. "Master Beleren?"
Jace had gone pale. There was something familiar hovering around the creature's mind. Something cold. Sharp. Calculated. A glint of light off of something around the beast's neck confirmed it. Finally, he swallowed a growing lump in his throat and shook his head. "No, I'll deal with this myself."
The vedalken was taken more aback at this than the sudden appearance of a flying chimera. "Are you certain, Sir? You do have many pressing notifications that—"
"Leave, Silurdex. Please."
The not-a-secretry-thank-you-very-much waited just long enough to silently express his disapproval before replying, "As you wish, Master Beleren."
As the archivist turned to leave, Jace added, "Feel free to sign anything unimportant."
"I don't know what you could possibly mean, Sir," came the prim reply. "As I have noted in the past, my ability to flawlessly recreate your signature was developed solely as an intellectual exercise."
The planeswalker smiled. Vedalken humor might be drier than the average active volcano, but he'd learned how to recognize it. "Of course."
"I will be at my desk should you need me, Sir." With that, Silurdex closed the door.
Jace turned back to the window. "Alright, let's see what you want." A bit of telekinesis applied at the proper points brought the windows swinging inward. The griffin flapped its way in, and the young man was able to see that his suspicions were correct. The hybrid creature did indeed have an etherium device hanging from its throat. It bowed its head, allowing the bauble to fall to the ground along with the cord to which it was tied.
The mage sighed. "Wonderful. Just wonderful." He knelt to pick up the artifact, only to leap back as it began to shake ominously. With a thought, he was encased in a translucent array of magical barriers, ready to return message and messenger alike to sender. The griffin simply looked at him. Jace got the distinct impression that it was trying not to laugh.
The capsule, meanwhile, popped open and hissed out a stream of smoke. Keeping his distance, the man watched as the vapor neither spread not dissipated, instead settling in a ring around the device. The gas then fixed itself into a circle of glowing runes. Once complete, the sigils brought their light together, forming from it a distressingly familiar figure.
"Hello, Jace."
"Hello, Tezzeret."
The illusory artificer seemed as amused as his courier. Jace guessed that the man had anticipated his overreaction to the thing's activation. "I'm sure you're wondering why I've chosen to contact you," continued the image.
"The thought crossed my mind, yes."
"Two reasons, really. One is to remind you that I've still got my eye on you."
The mind mage focused on keeping his breathing even. "And two?"
"Two is a favor I'd like to ask of you."
Jace sputtered for a moment. "A favor? Seriously? Why should I do anything for you?"
That damnable grin just got bigger. "It's all quite logical. You see, if you decline, then you must be feeling awfully confident. If you're feeling confident, it is highly probable that you are happy. And we both know what will happen when you're happy." The projection allowed this to stew for a moment before adding, "If it helps, think of it as a Consortium commission. I won't even ask for an employee discount."
Jace gritted his teeth for a moment before resigning himself. No viable alternative, really. "Fine. What do you want?"
"Firstly, you should know that this was all prerecorded, so you can stop talking to the courier capsule. And yes, you are that predictable. Usually. Secondly, the favor is actually for a friend, and to preempt your comment, yes, I do have a few friends. I used to wonder what the point could be, but I've had some practical demonstrations since.
"In any case, this specific friend happens to be a new member of our exclusive little community, and as much as I've enjoyed acting as her mentor, I have some rather urgent business that needs attending to as per draconic fiat. As such, I request that you aid her in perfecting a few spells that will prove essential as she travels the Multiverse. Mostly illusions and such, nothing terribly complicated or beyond your abilities.
"In exchange for this service, you will have a reprieve from the ever present threat of my retribution. At what point that reprieve will expire is, of course, not something I am going to tell you, now or then. I also haven't shared it with your client, so don't bother trying to dig it out of her memory. On a related note, should I contact her after a reasonable length of time only to find that you have not performed as I have asked, or that her mind has been tampered with in any way beyond mundane learning, I will not be pleased.
The image nodded to itself. "Well, that should be everything. Oh, and don't think you're getting free etherium out of this." With that, the runes, image, and capsule all vanished in a column of blue smoke.
For a brief time, Jace said nothing, silently fuming as contemplated the sorts of indignities to which he'd subject Tezzeret the next time he got his mental hands on the Esperite's brain. Finally, he let out a breath he didn't recall holding, then noted the griffin. "What are you still doing here?"
He thought the question was rhetorical. The griffin didn't. "Well, I'm expecting some magic lessons."
"You can talk!?"
There was that "trying not to laugh" look again. "Pretty sure we just established that."
The mind mage coughed into his fist. "Er, right.Sorry, I've never met an intelligent griffin before."
"Neither have I." Ditzy dropped the illusion. "Only one I ever met was as dim as a thunderhead and half as friendly." She smiled and extended a forehoof. "Hi. I'm Ditzy Doo."
After a beat, she opened her eyes. Jace Beleren, psychomancer prodigy, mind sculptor extraordinaire, and leader of the Infinite Consortium, had fainted. The pegasus gulped. "Maybe I should get Mister Silurdex..."
"Whoa there, Paul!" Applejack was employing all of her wrangling expertise in trying to calm the enormous apple. Unfortunately, under the current circumstances, she couldn't do much beyond shout. "Consarn it, Ah said 'whoa!'"
Pinkie winced as she heard one of the elemental's treelike legs crush a house. "I don' think he's listening, Applejack."
The freckled pony glared at her friend. "Well Ah don't see you doin' much t' help! What'd that loony friend o' yers do, anyhow?"
Once Pinkie had disembarked, she largely left Screwball to "her" own devices. (The feminine pronoun will be used, as English lacks a suitable one for a being whose gender identity is "purple monkey dishwasher".) Having had plenty of experience with avatars of discord, the beanie-propelled equinoid's summoner had given her only the vaguest of directions: Since you're going to sow chaos anyway, at least make it chaos that doesn't actively conflict with our goals.
Bearing this in mind, for lack of a better term, the scion of disharmony positioned herself just underneath the honesty elemental's monolithic eye, hovering before a veritable cliffside of fruit. Cracking her nonexistent knuckles, Screwball drew back a forehoof and glared at the ruby expanse before her. "Aaaah-tatata-tatatata-tatatata-tatatata-tata-wah TA!"
As she let out the battle cry, she delivered a furious flurry of blows along the titan's surface, striking specific pressure points that may or may be present in plants. With the "wah TA!", she applied a roundhouse kick that would make Chuck Norris proud. Once the assault was complete, she solemnly pronounced, "You are already pie."
The flesh beneath the crimson skin began to shift and roil, folded, spindled, and mutilated chakras beginning to tear themselves apart in a spiraling cycle of spiritual self-destruction. Unfortunately, those chakras quickly remembered that this was not a musclebound postapocalyptic henchman, but a physical manifestation of truth and vitality. As such, they settled back down, assuming that they were ever there in the first place.
"C-c-c-combo breaker!" exclaimed Screwball, who was as astonished as plaid is crunchy. She then heard a noise that lay somewhere between "growl", "groan", and "exploding subwoofer". The purple pony-thing looked up.
An eye the size of a train car glared back.
The avatar offered a nervous chuckle, an uncertain wave, and a friendly "Portzbie" before fleeing for her continued corporeality.
"That's not important right now," answered Pinkie Pie. "What is is that you're right. I need to help stop this thing." With that, she closed her eyes and drew on memories older than Equestria.
Applejack was about to yell at the other earth pony for napping on the job when the air above the meditating mare began to ripple as if superheated. As traces of scarlet became visible in the heat shimmer, the farmer risked an, "Uh, Pinkie?"
As if in response, the party pony was consumed in a burst of heatless flame. When the smoke cleared, Pinkie Pie sported batlike wings and a physique like that of Big Macintosh. As the planeswalker flexed the new appendages experimentally, Applejack noted an odd, flickering glow in her friend's eyes. She then corrected herself. Those weren't bat wings. They were dragon wings. "Pinkie?"
"Yeah?" Her open mouth was similarly backlit.
"You, uh..." This had exceeded the level of weirdness that the orange mare could dismiss as "just Pinkie Pie". It was also, she freely admitted, way over her head. "Uh, good luck?"
"Aw, thanks, AJ!" The enchanted pony smiled and blew out a heart-shaped smoke ring, then took off.
Yes, decided Applejack, she definitely owed Ditzy Doo an apology. Everypony had her secrets, and as she was rapidly realizing, not all of them needed to be brought to light.
Swoosh! Pinkie Pie, having swathed herself in the smoldering, sulfurous embrace of Shiv, dove into an orbit around the crankypants that was running wild through Ponyville. Well, slowly trudging wild, really. Paul was just too darn huge to move very quickly. Of course, that very same hugeness meant his every single step covered a lot of ground, and possibly somepony's house. Still, given how those steps were causing itty-bitty earthquakes, everypony had enough warning to get away long before they risked getting squished.
Where was I? Oh, right! That delightful dear Pinkie Pie delivering deadly draconic doom to a dreadful danger to darn near everypony! Once a few circles around the naughty's noggin got its attention, it was time for some good old-fashioned fire breath on its backside to get it to turn around and follow her back out of Ponyville. A deep breath and FWOOSH!
...
Uh oh. It doesn't even look singed.
Ahem.
Oh, uh, hi FoME!
Pinkie Pie.
I was just, uh—
Narrating your own exploits?
Um, yeah. You, uh, don't mind, do you?
Oh, not at all, not at all.
Oh, good!
Mind you, talking to me in the middle of a fight doesn't seem like a very good idea.
Huh?
As it turned out, an alicorn's skull possessed greater structural integrity than Ponyville architecture. As Luna magically repaired the hole she'd beaten into the town hall's roof, she vented her frustration verbally instead.
"Stupid lousy ungrateful foals. I should just go back to the moon and refuse to raise it. See how much they all like Tia's pet when it's turning their farms into scorched desert. That'll show them. They thought eternal night was scary? See how bad eternal day is. Then maybe I'll get some real respect and not just frightened lip ser—" The moon princess's rant was interrupted by a rapidly intensifying shout. "Vice?"
As soon as she spotted the growing spot of pink, Luna engaged her magic to stop it. In the time it took for thoughts to go from eye to brain to horn, the object had made it to within an inch of her royal muzzle. Still, when the pony who tells the moon what to do wants something to stop, then stop it shall, and stop it did. It then smiled in recognition. "Hi, Luna!"
"The Element of Laughter." The deity took a moment to put name to draconically enhanced face. "Pinkie Pie, correct?"
The party pony gave a massive delighted grin at being recognized. "Yuparoonie!" Her expression switched to confused. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
The sheer quantity of informality and the audience of one brought Luna to a decision. With a sigh and a slump, she released Pinkie from her magic and herself from royal airs. "It was Tia's idea. 'Go out and see ponies,' she said. 'Ponies think I'm keeping you locked up,' she said."
This was met with surprise. "She isn't?"
"Of course not! Honestly, for a beloved monarch, she seems to have the worst reputation. Molestia this, Trollestia that. And she wonders why I avoid the public eye."
Pinkie giggled. "Oh, nopony really believes that stuff. It's just teasing!"
Luna frowned, confused. "But... but why paint her as some malicious jester or insatiable..." She shuddered, unable to finish the sentence.
Pinkie considered this for a moment. "Well, has she ever played a joke on you?"
The princess thought of the time Celestia had told her that she'd painted the moon a new color when it was really the first lunar eclipse. "On occassion," she conceded.
"And she probably noticed colts before you."
The alicorn began to object, given that no prospective suitors had existed at the appropriate time, but then she remembered the indecent enthusiasm with which her sister had suggested possible places to put erogenous zones on mortal ponies. "Sort of." Wingboners, Tia? Really?
"Well there you go. Nopony's perfect, but teasing doesn't mean you condemn your friends for those faults. It means that you accept them as part of who your friends are, part of the reason why they're your friends in the first place. It's just kind of exaggerated when you're the head cheese. Though I guess you'd be the head cheese, at least if the moon really is made of cheese."
Luna took a moment to parse all of this before letting herself respond. "I'm afraid it's not."
"Aww..."
"Still, thank you, Pinkie Pie."
"For what?"
"It's clear to me that if I'm going to be appreciated by ponies, I can't just sit back and let my title do it for me." Luna stood proudly. "I need to get out there and show everypony just who Princess Luna is. Drag myself out of the history books and back into the mind of Joe Everystallion."
"Alright, Luna!" A realization hit. "Oh, but that wasn't what I meant when I asked what you were doing here."
"What did you mean?"
"Why aren't you helping fight the giant monster?"
The princess frowned. "What giant monster?"
The honesty elemental chose that moment to emit a sound so deep that it was more felt than heard. Luna turned to it. "Oh. That giant monster." She turned back to Pinkie, then blinked. "Did you always have dragon wings?"
The party pony gave a wry grin. "You're not that observant, are you?"
The alicorn offered a shy smile in return. "Not when I'm stewing in my own self-pity, no."
"It's just that we could really use some moon magic. Or action." Pinkie took a moment to consider this. "You aren't going to just throw your tiara at it, are you? 'Cause I don't think that's gonna work."
Luna ran through many possible replies before settling on a simple "No." She continued, "I think I know exactly what to do. Is anypony close to it?"
"Just Applejack."
"The Element of Honesty?"
The poofy-maned pony nodded. "On top of the elemental of honesty."
"You get her off of it. I'll deal with the beast itself."
"How?"
The princess's smile took a turn for the sinister. "I'm going to show it the truth."
The Books and Branches Library had become the epicenter of an unprecedented spike in magical density. The unicorns surrounding the place, including newcomers who were forming a second ring around the first, attested to that. The ambient energy fed into their brains through the secondary nervous structures in their horns, producing a high that would've been declared better than sex had anypony been in any shape to make declarations. As it was, they were all too busy having their minds pleasantly short-circuited to do much beyond stand and luxuriate. Unhorned passersby had assumed there was some new release that was highly anticipated by the unicorn community, at least before they became too busy panicking to notice.
Inside the library, things were a bit different. For one, there was a lot more elbow room, given the sole occupant. For another, the sheer amount of energy was causing some unusual behavior in space and time. The tree was already measurably larger on the inside. Three gates to L-Space had formed in the shelves, as well as one to the Wonka factory. The basement was slowly transmuting into a procedurally generated labyrinth, complete with grues by which unwary wanderers were likely to be eaten. Now and again, an instance of Pinkie Pie from an adjacent timeline opened the bathroom door, excused herself (or himself), and returned to hir own continuity.
And then there was Twilight's bedroom. Her dreams took form in the uncontrolled energies, impossible shapes briefly dancing in the air before being shredded apart by cruel logic and heartless geometry. Other ponies, and stranger things still, peeked out of the other side of the vanity mirror. A spider in one corner quietly wove a textile dissertation that alternated between the essential impermanence of being and the combination of logical necessity and poetic beauty that was consuming one's mate. The topic, like the author's gender, switched with every paragraph.
The bed frame had become semisweet titanium. The mattress had come to life, named itself Zem, and was floopily wurfing its life story as it happened. And beneath ultraviolet-and-octarine houndstooth covers, still somehow asleep despite the events of the morning, Twilight Sparkle glowed.
Generosity, thought Rarity, was a wonderful thing. There were just so much that she was doing which would be impossible without the crystalline incarnation of her Element. Normally, she'd have had to scramble to explain herself to Spike even as the horrible state of the entry hall weighed on her mind. Now, she could leave the dissembling in Trixie's practiced hooves while personally supervising the cleanup. Furthermore, she had only to imagine how she wanted things, and the others saw it as though they had thought of it themselves. No room for miscommunication, no need to physically hover like a mother hen, no stress!
Practical matters were hardly the only ones that Jean helped facilitate. The ivory unicorn could confidently say that she better understood each and every other pony under its auspices than she ever had before. The designer had known that Sweetie Belle admired her, but had never fully appreciated the magnitude of her sister's hero worship until now. Similarly, only now did Rarity know Trixie's full story, and through elemental munificence, the two proceeded through contrition, forgiveness, and friendship at the speed of thought.
The others were somewhat more enigmatic. Whatever anomaly that arose when Dinky Doo was incorporated still persisted to a lesser degree, making the link to her oddly fuzzy. Lyra, on the other hoof, was as clearly connected as anypony else... up to a point. Any attempt to go deeper hit a mental brick wall whose presence not even the sea-green unicorn could explain. According to Jean, it could be breached, but they'd need significantly greater ponypower to do so without some very nasty backlash.
Ah, Jean. The nickname had originally been a play on words that catered to Rarity's Prancophilic tendencies, but it quickly became a term of genuine endearment. Diamonds were a filly's best friend, as the saying went, and the azure entity's abilities had proven that idiom countless times over. From the very moment they had made mental contact, Rarity had felt a unique rapport with the elemental. It only made sense, given her status as the Bearer of Generosity. Still, their relationship had become a curious thing; more than friendship, yet too passionless and collegial to be called romance. In any case, even amidst her other mental multitasking, Rarity maintained a near-continuous running dialogue with the gem in her closet. So why, precisely, are we not welcoming Spike into our little group?
A dragon's mind is a volatile, possessive thing, and well protected besides. Even as young as he has mental defenses superior to the strongest of unicorns. Furthermore, he lacks the convenient back door offered by that unicorn's horn. I cannot reliably predict how he will react to my magic, and after Dinky Doo, I am reluctant to experiment.
Hmm, I see. Shame, he's such a dear. And I can't deny that fire breath has a certain allure. The pony pondered each of her current tasks in turn, then mused, What of Ditzy Doo?
What of her?
Well, surely we're including, aren't we? If nothing else, I want to know when and why she applied that posthypnotic business you told me about.
Rarity could feel the elemental thinking, sensing a few bits of the decision slip in and out of her thoughts in a deft act of telepathic embroidery. Finally, it gave an answer. She will certainly be a useful stepping stone as I master the incorporation of non-unicorns. However, it would definitely be best if it was done with her consent. Even in her current state, she has some of the most formidable psychic defenses I have ever detected.
By sheer coincidence, the showmare-led conversation with Spike had reached a point where Rarity gave a smile. Oh, thought the fashionista, I don't think that will be an issue.
By the time Pinkie Pie had returned to the honesty elemental's crown, Applejack has in the middle of a good hard sulk, all efforts to do anything significant thwarted. When she spotted the party pony, she greeted her with, "Well, Ah hope yer havin' fun, 'cause Ah shore ain't."
The poofy-maned planeswalker's grin didn't falter. "Not to worry, my good Applejack. Your Aunt Pinkie Pie is here to help."
This did little to encourage the farmhoof. "Yer only two weeks older 'n me."
"Stand, please," Pinkie requested, studiously ignoring this point. Once her friend had done so, she closely examined the tether keeping the orange mare secured to the gargantuan. From the vestigial blossom emerged a flexible vinelike growth that grew up to the farmer's diaphragm. From there, woodier growth branched out, wrapping around each shoulder and side, and two neatly skirting her tail. These branches met atop the center of her spine.
The reason for this intense analysis was unclear, since Pinkie had decided on her course of action before she'd even gotten back from the town hall. After a cautionary "Hold still, now," she blew a thin, steady stream of flame over the connecting length of vine. Much to her dismay, it showed little damage beyond a shiny black surface, even after she exhausted her considerable lung capacity.
When the smell hit Applejack's nostrils, she blinked incredulously. "Pinkie, y' ain't tryin' to burn that thing, are ya?"
"Of course!" The living blowtorch frowned. "Shouldn't I?"
The freckled mare shook her head. "Shoot, that shoot's greener 'n Granny Smith on a tilt-a-whirl. Ya might as well try torchin' a soggy lasso."
The pink pyro wilted a bit at this. No fire? That invalidated Plans A through G! She literally spent seconds on those tactical masterpieces! This is why she hated making plans, they never actually saw use. "Well, what should I do?"
Applejack smiled. Finally, something she understood. "Ya don't need no fancy spell. Just use what Celestia gave ya."
Pinkie pondered this for a moment. "Ohh..." Tilting her head, she opened wide and bit down on the growth, then began to pull and twist. A gratifying series of fibrous snaps soon followed, culminating in a final tearing rip and a soft "ptooie!"
"Yeehaw!" The orange mare immediately took advantage of her newfound freedom, springing away from the ragged stump.
Her celebration was cut short by a sudden sensation of lift. "We need to get away ASAP," explained Pinkie, who had somehow managed to slip underneath her friend before taking flight.
"Why's that?" Applejack asked, trying very hard not to think about how much air now stood between her and the ground.
The party pony called forth a modicum of black mana. "Because Paul's about to go..." A pair of sunglasses manifested over her eyes. "Nighty night."
"YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHH—"
Screwball halted the propellor of her suddenly exultant beanie. After removing it and giving it a cursory examination, she shrugged, finding no cause for the sudden burst of enthusiasm. Dismissing it as unimportant, she redonned and restarted her headgear. Gravity politely ignored how this pitstop took place in midair.
Once she resumed her travel, the avatar quickly located her assigned quarry. It wasn't that hard, really. Even against the pastel palette of Ponyville, a giant glowing inchworm tends to stand out.
Diving down to the shiny thing, Screwball spotted the pink-maned rider and came to a disharmonious float that, on average, put her at eye level with Fluttershy. The equinoid doffed her beanie. "Mop the Turing, YouTube!"
The soft-spoken pegasus folded in on herself at the sudden appearance of the stranger, but inoffeniveness outweighed introversion just enough for her to squeak out a "Hi."
It now needs to be said that only four kinds of mages summon avatars of discord: The desperate, the depraved, the insane, and Pinkie Pie, who was a category unto herself. As has been noted, the creatures have difficulty following orders more complicated than "go nuts." Furthermore, they have an unfortunate tendency to append "and the kill them" to any grammatically compatible command and several others besides.
This is why the response to the gentle mare's greeting was, "You have no chance to survive make your time."
By the time Fluttershy had processed this, the purple ponything was halfway through a midair charge. However, the butter-coated pony was a pegasus, and that legacy included reflexes unmatched by other pony subspecies. The sight of a rapidly oncoming object got her body to dart in a different direction while her brain was still parsing the mangled sentence structure. A moment later, her assailant, unable to change her trajectory, struck the kindness elemental instead.
The impact squished Eric's head like a bullet fired into raw dough. It then slowly returned its usual round shape, apparently unperturbed. The overall effect was not unlike a squeezed stress ball.
Meanwhile, Fluttershy tried to reason with the inexplicably hostile pony. "Um, I'm terribly sorry if I've made you angry somehow. Would you like to talk about it? I'm a very good listener."
By this point, Screwball had managed to work her way free of the oddly plush body of the luminous larva. Thus, she was able the respond in the same way anything literally made of chaos would to diplomatic overture. Namely, she tried to headbutt the diplomat.
"Tried" being the operative word. Less than a second before the magic madmare made contact with the cowering caretaker, she smashed against an immovable object that hadn't been there the moment before, her momentum leaving her crumpled like an accordion against the obstacle.
Behind this barricade, Fluttershy risked a peek at her impending doom. To her surprise, the swirly-pupiled perpetrator fell to the ground before her, dazed and foreshortened. The pegasus looked up and gasped in wonder. "Angel Bunny?"
Angel turned and smirked. His pony had every right to be awestruck. Through meditation and runic inscription, he had channeled the white mana buildup around her cottage into a potent enchantment. The carrot into which he carved the runes had merged with his right forepaw, forming a supernaturally sharp and sturdy lance. Vines flowed from the top of the vegetable, twining across the bunny's body, protecting it as they augmented its physical strength. Broad leaves spread from his shoulders, magic allowing flight where aerodynamics would not. A similar gathering formed the shield Screwball had attempted to nut. As a final flourish, a tiny wreath of laurels lay on his head.
Fluttershy took all this in as best she could. "I... How..." She stopped for a moment to gather her wits and shift mental gears to "Pinkie Pie." "Thank you, Angel."
The rabbit gave a proud nod.
"Fritter media sullen lobster mugwump..." contributed Screwball.
The pegasus backed away from her. Angel landed between them and brandished his poleroot.
The avatar shakily got to her feet, shook her head, and considered the two before her. Then she looked back on the kindness elemental, who was gracing them with a content, uncomprehendng smile. She came to a decision. "Wasabi!"
Seeing the odd pony spring at Eric, Fluttershy turned to her companion. "Should we help?"
Angel shrugged. His pony was safe from that aberration, and if he was lucky, it might destroy the wormlike usurper of the Throne of Cute. Or vice versa, though that didn't seem particularly likely.
The Bearer of Kindness furrowed her brow in thought. In another universe, a brony felt his heart spasm. After careful deliberation, Fluttershy came to a decision. "This... thing. It isn't a pony, is it, Angel?"
The rabbit emphatically shook his head. He had more claim to equinity than that fiend.
The butter-coated mare took a deep breath, regret heavy in her next words. "I'm sorry to ask this of you, but could you eliminate it?"
As his answer, Angel flew up to eye level and snapped off a salute with his shield paw. He then sped into the fray.
Well, "fray" was not the most accurate description of what was going on. "Kneading", perhaps, since it seemed to consist of repeated blows into a soft, yielding substance. In any case, Fluttershy still watched, horror and resolve warring in her gaze. "Be careful."
When Pinkie conjured her shades, she did more than make a pop culture reference. The brief flare of dark energy stood out in Luna's senses like somepony shouting her name in an empty field. She smiled. The dragon-winged mare had refused to explain what her signal would be, only that she would know it when it came. So it was.
The princess of the night had kept herself hidden from any wandering steam-engine-sized eyes by keeping herself between the elemental and the sun. Besides obscuring her from detection, this also meant that she didn't need to move in order to perform the spell that she was certain would end the beast. The spell that, with Pinkie's signal, she was now free to cast without worrying about catching anypony in its area of effect.
Her horn glowed midnight blue, then pitch black. Focusing her will, Luna spread her wings to their full span and kept them still. She did not fall, for she obeyed gravity not out of requirement but out of courtesy. Magic flowed up her wings, and the shadow she cast extended outward. What was a tiny zone of shade quickly consumed by her sister's light grew longer and darker. The darkness flowed like a liquid, gaining speed as it lost altitude. By the time it reached ground level, it consumed the honesty elemental before it even noticed. The end effect was of a negative spotlight, a cone of impenetrable black amidst the morning brilliance.
The princess frowned. She could sense that this fluid night was not enough, that the torrent was keeping the giant contained, but little more, and it would not do so forever. Of course, she hadn't expected it to. Another layer of antilight enveloped her horn as she called even more power to bear, guiding it with words whose power she herself had instilled:
"The world is a mote of dust circling a tiny spark, floating in an unfathomably vast ocean of nothingness. Light, life, chaos, all of these are lies. Lies of such miniscule consequence that the universe allows them to seem true. But one day, its patience will run out. The spark will gutter. The mote will freeze. All will be as it truly is: Dark, silent, unchanging. For eternity."
The falling river of black shifted then, changing from pure void to a rich tapestry of celestial lights. It was as thought Luna was attacking the creature with the night sky itself.
Then, one by one, the lights grew red and dim, then went out altogether. Galactic arms atrophied and disintegrated. Nebulae attenuated into invisibility. Slowly, the assault returned to uniform black, yet this was somehow more intense than before. It spoke of hopelessness and pointlessness, entropy and apathy, the decay and death that awaited all things. It was an attitude so wholly alien to the citizens of Ponyville that many of those who witnessed it would suppress the memory in self-defense, unable to describe the event beyond "Princess Luna defeated the giant apple monster with her magic." For that was exactly what happened.
Luna relaxed her wings and her will, and the great sable beam faded, slowly and grudgingly. The shadows had become nearly solid, the light having to burn them away as it would a thick fog. Eventually, the darkness that had cocooned the titan receded, and what was left was laid bare.
The remains of the honesty elemental were not an especially ghastly sight. There is not much one can do in the way of body horror with plants, and this was hardly the most unspeakable application of black magic. Still, the contrast from before was striking. The legs, once wide as ancient oaks, had shrunk to colorless husks that visibly shook even under what little mass the creature still had. The apple head had shriveled and paled into a white wrinkled thing barely larger than a carriage, the eye glassy and thick with cataracts.
The princess came to a graceful landing, pleased with her work, but concerned with the fallout. From her studies, she knew that Equestria had not seen such fell spellcraft in centuries. She'd had to stop the apparition for the sake of the world, but what would be left of the friendships she had only just began to form? Surely everypony would now fear her, she of such dark and terrible power, kept in check only by the grace and charity of her wiser, more beautiful sister...
Luna's brooding was interrupted by Pinkie Pie's rather more dramatic landing, skidding until she bumped into one of the elemental's desiccated legs. From that contact came innumerable snapping sounds as the body crumbled, followed by a shower of ash. Thankfully, much of the stuff faded to nothing before it hit the ground, but enough survived to at least briefly cover the ponies up to their flanks.
"Well," said Luna, light-hearted as she dared, "I think that went rather well."
"Yer Highness?"
The alicorn turned to the farmer pony, who was currently struggling to get off of her friend. Maybe, just maybe, if she didn't mention it, nopony else would. "Applejack, without you and your friends I would still be a raving madmare intent on forcing my night on everypony at the cost of the entire world's well-being. If that does not entitle you to speak to me without titles and blandishment, I do not know what does."
Pinkie finally sat down, allowing the freckled mare to get her hooves on the ground. Applejack tottered a few steps before collapsing onto the wonderfully solid earth before replying, "Anythin' y' say, Pri— uh, Luna." She waited a moment to confirm that her stomach settled before continuing. "Just remind me t' stay on yer good side. Dunno what y' did t' Paul, but it worked better 'n apple cores on a stubborn hog."
"Yeah!" chimed the party pony, now bouncing with enthusiasm. "I've seem a lot of doom spells in my time, but that was the coolest, doomiest one since... well, since ever!"
Luna was astonished. "Really? You're not afraid?"
Appejack quirked an eyebrow. "Shoot, 'course Ah was afraid. Show me a pony who says 'e ain't afraid o' that, an' I'll show ya the filthiest liar this side o' Appleoosa." The farmhoof saw the hurt this brought to the princess, and preempted any spoken angst. "But that don't mean Ah'm scared o' you, Luna. Y' did whatchya had t' do so that bad apple didn't wreck th' town! Yer a hero!"
"A... a hero?" This prompted the biggest smile the alicorn had given outside of a library or insanity in the past thousand years.
"Yeah!" affirmed Pinkie. "And after we take out the other nasties, we're throwing you the biggest hero party ever!"
Applejack assumed a thousand-yard stare. "...'Other nasties'?"
Ditzy grudgingly regained consciousness, physical and emotional aches making the prospect of waking up very unappealing. However, her attempts to fall back asleep, or at least pass out again, were akin to someone trying to force a hot-air balloon to descend by jumping up and down on top of it. Still, she could at least keep her eyes closed and stay still.
"Come on, dear, I know you're up."
Or not. The pegasus opened her eyes with a groan and fixed a baleful stare on Rarity. Well, Rarity and a ponnequin in one corner. "Where's Dinky?"
Rarity sighed and shook her head. "Really now, Ditzy, you're beginning to sound like a broken record."
In the space of a heartbeat, the blonde planeswalker went from lying on the floor to standing muzzle-to-muzzle with the fashionista. An odd, distant sensation told Rarity that something was touching the crystal encasing her horn. "Say that again," Ditzy hissed. "Tell me again that my concern for my child is beginning to bore you. Give me an excuse to shatter this gaudy chunk of paste."
The sensation became a lot more odd and a lot less distant. "What are you doing!?"
"Mommy, please stop."
The pegasus did, her attention on her daughter. "Oh, Muffin, what did they do to you?"
Dinky gave the same sad smile she offered before her mother passed out. "Don't worry, Mommy. You'll get to see for yourself real soon."
Ditzy frowned. "Not a chance. This all ends now." Her eyes began to glow with white magic.
The unicorn filly shook her head. "It isn't that simple, Mommy. The crystals are connected to our horns and our brains. Unless they're removed in just the right way, well..."
"We certainly won't come out the better for it," offered Rarity.
"There is one final thing to note."
Ditzy turned the source of this new voice, oddly layered and rich in tones that shouldn't be coming out of a pony's throat. "Trixie?"
The showmare betrayed no emotion whatsoever, her eyes glowing in the same hue as her mane. "Trixie lies deep within the gestalt at the moment. She is embracing the opportunity to escape from herself. The others are helping her with the issues she had simply repressed until now, even as we speak."
"Then who am I speaking to?"
"You know."
The pegasus nodded slowly. "I suspected. The generosity elemental itself."
"Yes. In order for those outside of the gestalt to understand me, I must borrow the voice of somepony within it."
Ditzy could feel her anxiety build. She'd been expecting some massive serpent or squishy thing with too many tentacles, not this calm, erudite being. She'd take the big, dumb monster any day. "What do you want?"
It tilted Trixie's head to the side. "Ultimately? To give myself to all life. To unite everything in a planetary network of shared thought. In as few words as possible: To be generous."
The planeswalker nodded. One good thing to fighting a brilliant mind, if you could keep them talking, eventually they'd tell you everything you'd need to know to defeat them. "And in the shorter term?"
"As you may have noticed, I have only incorporated unicorns into the gestalt. Obviously, my goals cannot be achieved by adding only one subspecies. A pegasus is close enough to give acceptable odds of success while different enough to aid in incorporating more exotic specimens."
"And if I refuse?"
"You will not. Dinky?"
Ditzy's mouth went painfully dry as she watched her daughter walk up to the blue mare. "Yes, Mister Jean?"
The blonde struggled to stay calm enough to stop any nasty reflexes. "What are you going to do?"
"It is simple and logical. You clearly object to your child's presence in the gestalt. If you do not join it, I will remove her from it." Trixie's borrowed face showed emotion for the first time, a severe glower. "I will not, however, do it gently. Her psyche will be irreparably damaged. There is a very good chance that she will be catatonic for the rest of her life. It could prove fatal."
The pegasus was speechless with horror for a time. She heard somepony ask, "How is that generous?" Halfway through the sentence, she realized it was her.
"I am offering you a choice. Whatever happens, you will be the deciding factor."
Under other circumstances, Ditzy would call out the manure inherent to this argument and have a pleasant little argument. However, Dinky's life and mind were on the line. Pedantry was not a luxury she had. She felt tears pooling in her eyes as she looked at her daughter. The filly just smiled.
"I'll do it."
Litany of the Void XBBB
Sorcery
Creatures your opponents control get -X/-X until end of turn.
"The gulf between stars is vast beyond conception, hostile beyond imagination. Those who question Luna's puissance would do well to remember that these depths are her place of power."
—Star Swirl the Bearded, Meditations of Night
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A Fist of the North Star refrence and fourth wall breaking with Pinkie?!
FanofMostEverything, I salute you for this awesome.
I gotta say, the Pinkie Planeswalker, constant memes and pop culture references really ruined this for me.
this whole story is just GOLDEN
the comedy the references the magic it all just WORKS ... how you ever came up with this crossover is likely to forever to remain a mystery to me but it makes WAY too much sense to deny ... you are a genius
Oh boy, octarine. Now we KNOW magic be up in here.
Anyone else feel that Jean is alot like Darkness/Nightshroud from Yu-Gi-Oh! GX?
Silly me, I thought that Luna's spell was a Doom Blade.
Holy crap its discworld yay!
Also, the Litany of the Void incantation reminded me of high-grade kido from bleach
As a one-sided boardwipe that's on par with the indiscriminate ones, I think Litany of the Void may be a little bit OP. Maybe if it cost XBBBB or XXB? That, or taking away its friend-foe id system might work... Scene itself was cool, though.
4820881
As a spell that requires targeting, it wouldn't have been able to get around the elemental's being hexproof. In such cases, indiscriminate destruction is the way to go.
Loved the Sailor Moon reference
Re-reading again! And this is still as good as I remember!
Wait... is the "Not exactly." from Trixie? Or Ditzy?
Also, is it a response to "since you asked so nicely"? I can see how it works, because Ditzy wasn't 'really' nice about it, but I think the "Trixie?" at the end of Rarity's part makes the "Not exactly" feel like a response to "Trixie"...
Lastly, a typo:
"tht"
6289856
The "not exactly" is from the gestalt consciousness currently using Trixie's body to get around, which is why it's saying that. It's not exactly Trixie.
Also, typo fixed. I really need to go back and clean this up at some point, especially the Lavender Unicorn Syndrome.
*gigglesnort*
This is the most random thing I've read in awhile XD
6289881
I did notice the LUS. However, it didn't ruin my immersion in this chapter, considering how wacky a lot of the stuff here was. Seriously, I think the last time I read something as random was The Many Different Origins of Scootaloo. But the alliteration did. Why? Because it wasn't as strong or as long as it could be. Or maybe I'm just too fond of the perverse absurdities coming from Bronystories :P
6647203
Um, thanks?
Just reread this chapter for the first time in I don't know how long and... well, it's certainly striking to see how much has changed in my writing style since back then. Glad you're enjoying it.
When your sanity is being threatened, switch logic mode to "Pinkie Pie" and just watch the contradictions fade away!
Rereading due to a comment. Still Good!
...
Typo:
the you must be feeling > then you must be feeling
9938905
Huh. I guess that makes sense. It's still a funny reference, even if it's not a FoME original. I just got into the show in the past month, so I don't know much fandom history.
Carrot Ironfoundersson was fortunately unavailable to arrest the offender, being on another plane entirely.
There's a missing comma here between "the depraved," and "the insane."
What is the pun in Jean's name?
And oh, I (just?) realized why Dinky resists Jean's crystal! It is because of her talent, which also pulled her to the Boutique! I thought it was something about being Ditzy's daughter all my previous rereads! Like Rarity, Mark Magic can express itself earlier than the mark itself!
Hmm, at least being dragged by your horn stops once you achieve Cutiesynthesis, hopefully.
----
Typo:
Applejack has in the middle > Applejack was in the middle