The master and the windigo

by stupidswampdragon

32 - Complete conviction

Lyra raised the tin can and peeked inside. She found her hopes dashed; only matte metal greeted her. She cast the empty can aside and groaned in dissatisfaction. As pointed out by her stomach growl, she could have used some food. Any food, at that point. She gulped greedily and ran her gaze around the kitchen. She was in the middle of a scene that belonged to crime investigation movies. All the drawers were hanging wide open, their contents in shuffled disarray.

There were no burglars ransacking Lyra's kitchen, though. The whole mess was her doing - a final, desperate attempt at denying the sad truth. Clenching her teeth and leaning against the fridge, Lyra produced a melancholic sigh. It was time she faced reality.

"Fiddlesticks. We're totally out of food."

She shouldn't have been surprised; that disaster was bound to strike before long. She had never kept a large stockpile at home. It was a smaller miracle that the leftovers had lasted her a full week.

Her back against the cold metal, Lyra tried coming to terms with the fact. It was a really sour pill to swallow, as she didn't want her voluntary confinement to end.

Not yet.

She wasn't ready for the world surrounding her house.

This despite having tried her best at preparing, too. The kitchen table was covered in hills of scattered papers; some full of scribbles, others featuring various flowcharts. All of them reminding Lyra of one singular fact.

There's so much to do once I go outside...

"Surely buying some groceries isn't a big risk," Snowy raised her head. She was lying on the stove, the only part of the room which Lyra hadn't touched during the last week. "Master could surely make a dash to the market and rush back safely!"

A wry grimace on her face, Lyra sighed and shook her head.

"It's not the groceries that worries me." She cocked her head to the side, bringing the windigo into her view. "I'm worried about the plan, Snowy."

Snowy narrowed her crimson eyes and shuffled around, reaching to scratch her neck.

"Well... there are some big unknowns," she mumbled, her gaze wandering from her master to a random spot on the wall. "To be honest with Master, I'm a bit worried myself. I'd rather not brave such a gamble until we know more about our big trick."

Her teeth sinking into her lip, Lyra gave the concern a deep, thoughtful nod. Over the course of the last week, she had spent at least one full day thinking about that one. The phenomenon she had dubbed the Big Trick; the trance-like few minutes when she overpowered Chrysalis.

The sheer possibility of her overpowering the Changeling Queen had puzzled Lyra. She may have remembered everything clearly, but the memories didn't help her either. The boost of power, the agility, the invincibility; those sensations, while arguably real, didn't bring her closer to any explanation.

Then Lyra remembered how Snowy had disappeared just before her 'supercharge' took place. That proved to be the most important piece of the puzzle. After that, she could also recall how cold she had felt all of a sudden. And the disturbing thoughts she'd had! That predatory voice in her head, that longing for the precious warmth...

For the span of a few moments, she became Snowy somehow.

No, that's not quite right. Lyra reminded herself. Snowy's too timid to be the mindless beast I almost turned into.

If Lyra had to make a guess, she would have bet on a feral windigo instead. One that didn't have much in the way of conscience or inhibition. One more in line with the terrifying reputation those monsters had.

Perhaps the monster that Snowy once used to be.

That could make sense.

Even so, Lyra couldn't deny that it was still a preposterous idea; a preposterous suggestion that explained everything. Windigos were ghosts; it stood to reason that ordinary attacks wouldn't harm them, not even the magical death-beam of Chrysalis. The incorporeal body could also account for the baffling boost in agility; ghosts wouldn't be affected by momentum or air resistance. Having a windigo sitting directly in her head could also explain the sudden surge of predatory thoughts.

There was only one problem with that theory: it didn't help in figuring out how she could repeat the Big Trick. No matter how many times they had tried, Lyra couldn't merge with Snowy again.

"It isn't a big deal," Lyra shook her head, casting aside the memories of repeated failures. "If things go well, we won't be needing such a risky thing anyway."

"Because good luck has been our staple so far," Snowy groaned. "Master, we can't bank on something like that! Not when there's a possibility of facing the Princess - who wields the powers of the Sun and is truly immortal! Master won't stand a chance without knowing how to turn into a similarly frightening monster herself!"

Raising an eyebrow, Lyra broke into a chuckle. A similarly frightening monster; she liked that description. She liked it a lot. Even if accidental, that was a rather insightful way to phrase the possibility.

The possibility of the absolute worst case scenario - a showdown in Canterlot.

"Then I'll improvise!" Lyra shrugged and pushed herself away from the fridge.

I'll improvise really desperately - that was the other half of the remark, which she kept to herself.

"But-!" Snowy barked, only to be cut off after one single word.

"I'll hear no more of it." Lyra cast a stern glare at the windigo, then motioned with her nose. "Hop to it. We're going to buy some sweets... and have a chat with our crazy baker in the meantime."

---

"Uh, Master? Are we going to buy sweets first?"

Pacing towards the Sugarcube at the other end of the street, Lyra glanced around. There were many ponies around her; a fact she had to keep in mind while phrasing her answer.

"Buying sweets and settling the tab from last time," she mumbled under her breath. She also shook her torso, making her saddlebags rock around. Muffled clangs rang out; one of the bags had a brown coin purse in it, full of shiny bits.

The overdue payment from last time: a rather convenient excuse to make visiting Pinkie a priority.

That having been said, Lyra wasn't really planning to live on baked goods. She was way more interested in getting Pinkie on board with the plan. That became paramount once she recalled that Pinkie had a servant called Axiom.

Axiom, the spider who could weave memories.

It would have been really nice to remember this a few days ago, Lyra grumbled to herself, hanging her head low. Had she had known about Pinkie and Axiom, she wouldn't have had to strike a deal with the Source to get her memories back.

She also understood how that was nothing but a foolhardy fantasy, though. She had no way of knowing about those two. She had bumped into Pinkie an hour before the changelings attacked, so there was no mention of Axiom in her diary. Were it not for the Source's intervention, she couldn't have possibly remembered this detail.

Well, now was the time to make sure she wouldn't need another favour of the shady game master again.

---

"HEEY! Now that's a face I haven't seen in a while!"

As usual, Pinkie was overbearingly lively; she greeted Lyra with the subtlety of a ship horn.

Lyra's first reaction was to shudder and squint. She then took a deep breath, trying to ease the ringing in the aching ear. Contrary to her expectations, that only helped very little. Grumbling internally, she switched tactics and rubbed a hoof on her ear instead.

It was then she spotted the white cap on Pinkie's head. That surprised Lyra much more than it should have. She had rarely seen the pink pony do actual baking... then again, she wasn't the Sugarcube's most frequent customer either.

Oi, oi, oi... I'm like, getting really sidetracked here! she pursed her lips and derided herself. Focus, you doof.

"Aww, com'on. It hasn't been that long!" she finally returned the greeting, waving a hoof at the loud baker. Then she waved at the black spider too. "Hey to you too, Axiom."

Pinkie's servant wasn't having any of the friendly chat. He turned around with a loud huff and scampered to the corner without a single word.

Lyra wasn't heartbroken over the refusal - she simply shrugged in utter nonchalance. It was Pinkie who she had wanted to talk to anyway. So what if the eight-legged servant opted to stay out of the picture? That was fine by her.

Even better, actually!

She didn't mind not having an audience for this particular chat.

"Wait at the door," Lyra whispered to the windigo at her side.

Snowy gave one of her better impressions. She didn't answer back; she simply produced a deep bow and turned around in silence, returning to the entrance at a measured pace.

Now on her own, Lyra resumed her walk. She raised her eyebrows higher and higher as she closed in on the counter; as the distance decreased, it was progressively easier to see what Pinkie was up to.

The baker was knee-deep in some sort of dough. She was also more white than pink; anything not covered by her hat and apron was covered by flour instead.

Arriving to the counter, Lyra stared at the scene for a minute or two. Then she made one of her less thoughtful attempts at breaking the ice.

"Busy?"

"Nah. I'm simply rolling around!" Pinkie giggled and rolled the dough over. "I'm making rolls! Haaa, rolls!"

Lyra rolled her eyes. She had no idea why, but she felt her braincells line up at the nearest emergency exit.

"I'm rolling on the floor laughing," she snickered dryly and placed her front legs over the counter.

"You're standing at the counter." Pinkie turned her head to Lyra and wrinkled her eyebrows.

"I'm rolling on the floor laughing internally," Lyra groaned.

"I'm surprised there's enough space in there to roll around. I thought we were all marshmallows and twinkies inside!" Pinkie threw a wink. The conversation didn't seem to require her full attention; she didn't stop pounding the dough even as she talked. "So, what brings you back so soon? You only show up once a year usually. Is it about the tab from last time?"

A muffled clang was the answer. The small bag of coins jumped out of Lyra's saddlebag and landed on the counter; the brown texture accented by a faint hint of amber, as Lyra's unicorn magic had barely had time to dissipate.

"Whoa. That was a joke, you know!" Pinkie blinked. She was getting more involved in the chat; her legs slowed down, and she was only poking at the dough instead of flattening it. "Wasn't expecting you to actually pay me."

"To think Bon called me bad at economics," Lyra smirked wryly. She crossed her legs on the counter and laid her head onto them, staring at the baker with a disapproving expression. "Why did you think that I'd skip out on paying you, by the way? I may be a scatterbrain, but I'm absolutely no cheapskate."

"That kind of precision is really mean of you, you know! Are you trying to drive me into debt?" Pinkie eyed the brown coin-bag, a troubled grimace on her face. "If we start keeping proper accounts of everything... then how am I going to pay you back for saving my shop from the changelings? ...and, uh, me too. Yeah, let's not forget about me either. I feel kind of important to myself."

Lyra's head bounced up. After her recent experiences, finding a grateful pony seemed like an unlikely event.

"How do you...?"

"That gangster with a heart of gold, over there." Pinkie yanked on her nose, motioning at the corner where Axiom was fuming in silence.

Barely turning her head, Lyra sneaked a quick glance at the spider.

"Him? But... how?"

After their previous meeting, it seemed unlikely that Axiom would vouch for her.

"Oh. Sill in the figuring phrase?" Pinkie blinked. She looked pretty surprised at Lyra's lack of understanding. "Well, you see... servants are kinda immune to each other's power. At least that's what Axiom told me."

Urgh. That sure would have been nice to learn earlier, Lyra rubbed her head with a heavy sigh. Why did I get the only servant who doesn't remember anything?!

"Anyway, since Axiom can make memories, it was easy-peasy to get myself restored!" Pinkie giggled, then put a hoof to her chin. "Ah, while we're talking about memories. Next time, could you at least let me know before you muck with my head? Write a mail, maybe? Stick a post-it to the front door?"

Lyra bit onto her tongue. So, in the end, even the sole grateful pony is mad at me… figures.

Despite the wry laughter in her head, Lyra didn’t feel like laughing at all. She gave a sombre grimace and leaned forward instead, shifting her torso onto her crossed legs.

Here goes nothing, she thought and swallowed. Her throat, her mouth, her entire being felt dry; she was so nervous that she could almost jump out of her skin.

She was taking a leap of faith, and the idea didn't really improve her spirit. She had to try before Pinkie got really angry at her, though.

Pinkie, you are the only one who will know. So please don't be mad at me...!

"Memories... they are exactly why I came, actually." Lyra squeezed the words out, her amber eyes narrowing on Pinkie. "I am going to... well, I'll have to repeat this performance. And when I do, I'll need you to... err, make me remember everything."

Pinkie blinked. For a little while, only utter confusion mirrored in her blue eyes. She started getting a grip on the situation afterwards though, evident by the widening grin on her face.

"Oooh, heavy stuff. I like heavy stuff!" she giggled and returned to plastering the dough. "Let me just finish this batch first, m'okay? Then we can discuss. A mare's gotta have priorities!"

Funny. I was just about to say that, Lyra drooped her ears with a groan.

---

"It was you who got me out of jail?!" Lyra jolted. Her concentration slipped, and her cup of hot chocolate almost landed on the floor. "But-!"

"But, but, BUT? But what? Oh, wait - you thought those colts in the barracks actually read books?" Pinkie pat her guest on the head, her last word almost drowning in her laughter. "Hahahah! Lyra, you silly pony, you! Had I not made that sarge-whoever remember about Chrissy, he'd still be convinced that the soul-devouring alicorn was only fantasy. Which would be an awfully rude way to treat the almighty Queen of Changelings, wouldn't you say? I couldn't let that slide!"

"Yeah, that'd have been... bad." Lyra forced an absent-minded smile, her eyes glued to the steaming cup on front of her. Up until now, she was completely convinced that it was the Source who had freed her from jail.

She did find it strange, having the eccentric game master rushing to her aid so openly.

All the muscles in her face flexing, Lyra started feeling pretty concerned about the blank contract she had signed. That game master seemed to have less and less goodwill by the moment.

Pinkie didn't interrupt her musing. The pink baker took a sip from her own cup of chocolate, then started munching on a slice of strawberry cake.

It was that prolonged silence which tipped Lyra off, actually.

Still waiting for me to say something? Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows. Pretty patient for who's basically the poster pony for tripping on a caffeine overdose.

"Shouldn't that make us even?" she glanced at the pink pony. She then rose the cup to her mouth, taking her turn to drink. She didn't really like the hot chocolate all that much - it was way too sweet and syrupy for her tastes. But it was a great way to show that she was done talking.

She got a barrage of nonsense thrown at her for her trouble.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Are you trying to make a fool of me, Lyra? I thought we were friends!" Pinkie pouted, her cheeks trembling. "Friends don't do these kinda' things! Do you know what friends do? They stop each other from overeating! They stand behind you and nag you - 'but Pinkie, that's the tenth slice already'! As if I couldn't count. Well, surprise - I CAN! I simply like eating sweet things, you see? I can't overeat, though - and that's what most ponies don't understand. I can only all-eat. As long as there's something on the table with some sugar in it, it has my name on it."

"Uh... huh?" Lyra gave a hesitant nod. She had absolutely no idea what Pinkie was on about, but she couldn’t interject either. She didn’t want to risk upsetting the crazy baker.

"So as you can see, I know a professional eater when I see one. And Chrissy... I can tell she's a very good eater. Almost like a kindred soul to me. HISS! YUMMY SOULS! GIMME' MORE! HISSS!" Pinkie bared her teeth, acting like a vampire from a Z-category movie.

"You do remember Chrysalis pretty well." Lyra chuckled darkly, finally understanding the twisting and turning path Pinkie's mind had taken. "She did say something like she wouldn't stop as long as there were ponies left to eat. Because she enjoyed devouring them... and also as a dig at Celestia."

They both fell silent; there was nothing more to say about the topic. Both ponies stared at one another for a while, then raised their cups and sipped some chocolate in sync.

"Anyway, there's no 'getting even' between us. Friendship isn't a score-based game!" Pinkie set her cup back onto the table, taking a pause so she could lick the brown spots off her lips. "You only wish it was that clearly defined."

Her cup still floating in front of her nose, Lyra tilted her head forward and narrowed her eyes.

"Stop right there, Pinkie. Let's get one thing out of the way! You shouldn't think of me as a friend."

Pinkie didn't seem to understand the remark. She blinked wildly and cocked her head to the side, her fluffy mane dangling freely.

Oi! You're really making this hard on me, Lyra rubbed her nose with the rim of the cup. Well, it's not like I won't be asking something outrageous of you in turn... so this could be karma, I guess.

"I don't have friends. I don't need friends." She explained, her tone as calm and firm as her throat was capable of making. "Just help me with this gig, that's all I'm asking. You do that, and then we can go our separate ways, two happy ponies."

"You just went full emo. You never go full emo," Pinkie groaned loudly, covering her face in her hooves. "Everypony needs friends."

Peeking up from behind the cup floating in front of her face, Lyra gritted her teeth and steeled herself.

This isn't going anywhere. Time to stop beating around the bush.

"Even so, you and I surely won't be friends after you hear my proposal!" she chuckled dryly, cutting Pinkie off. She then took a longer pause, purely for the sake of dramatics; she even found the time to lower the cup back onto the table, touching it down with extreme care. She was still looking at the white porcelain by the time she resumed talking. "I... I'm going to break one of your friends, Pinkie. Badly. Pretty badly."

"You what." Pinkie squinted and leaned forward. "Did you really just say what I think I have heard you just say?"

"Not for my amusement! It'll be for the greater good. For the sake of a better world," Lyra rushed the words out as she exhaled, her hoof pushing her cup across the table. She ground her teeth against each other and glanced up, staring Pinkie straight in the eyes. "I don't expect you to like me for proposing this, but please! At least hear me out."

Pinkie held a hoof to her chin and hummed.

"Okaaay... so I think I'm a little confused. Explain it in a way that this simple baker can understand!" she shook her head, holding her hooves in the air. "What's this 'better world' you're talking about? And how is it better if the ingredients include broken friends?"

"Ingredient... haha. That's one way to look at it!" Lyra chuckled and rubbed her temple. "Try to ignore that bit for now. Look at the big picture... look at what I'm trying to achieve."

Pinkie dropped her legs and squinted with disbelief.

"All you've said is 'better world'. Am I supposed to know what that is?"

Lyra shook her head, her mane flapping against her neck.

"Not yet. But it isn't hard to grasp," she explained silently and slowly, refining her chosen words as she talked. "I want a world that has no need for our servants."

She furrowed her forehead and winced. Despite having planned this conversation for hours, she still couldn't express herself properly. A 'better world' - such an easy concept in her head, yet so difficult to put into words. The thoughts seemed to twist and lose meaning on the way from her brain to her mouth.

"Oh-hoo. So like... a place so perfect that nopony feels like changing it? A bunch of masters who can only have their servants laze around." Pinkie hummed, her hoof idly rubbing the bottom of her chin. "Haha! That's difficult to even imagine!"

Breaking into a dark chuckle, Lyra resumed poking her cup around the table. Of course it's difficult, duh.

"I can do it. I'm certain that I can do it," she declared with a toothy grin. "I've got a plan."

The grin was a lie Lyra had to force onto herself. It would have been a fine act, too - if only her nervousness didn't ruin everything. The anxiety was too high in her system, and in finding a way to keep herself together, Lyra's idle poking of the cup became too strong. She toppled the cup, sending the lukewarm chocolate flowing all over the table. She didn't jump at the spill, though. She remained stoic, staring at the overturned cup as if nothing had happened.

"I'm the only one who can make it work," she muttered and then jolted, bouncing away from the table. The sight of the spilled chocolate had just reached her mind. "Whoa-!"

"Dun' wovvy!" Pinkie yelled from behind the counter. She popped up seconds later, her mouth full of a rag. She dashed back to the table and flung the rag onto it, covering everything - cups, slices of pie and free-flowing chocolate.

Lyra took over from that point. She used her magic to work the rag, dragging it around until the table had been scrubbed more or less clean.

"So... want another cup?" Pinkie pointed at the overturned cup. "Or would you prefer something else while you explain this plan of yours?"

---

"I know you're really into the whole hero thing... but you do know there's no overtime pay for this gig, right?" Pinkie rubbed her temple with a sigh. "I can't help but notice that you've progressed from breaking one of my friends to three."

"Pffft, please. Celestia's your friend? Luna too?" Lyra folded her legs and cocked her head to the side. "That's funny. Wasn't there a changeling attack precisely because they hung us out to dry?"

She took a vanilla roll and bit into two, her eyes narrowing as anger twisted her face.

Pinkie shuddered under that glare. She quickly poured herself some cocoa; an obvious pretence for turning away.

"I'm sure they've had their reasons," Pinkie muttered once she had placed the kettle back onto the table. "I know Celestia and she isn't a bad pony. She wouldn't-"

"She ordered the whole Guard back to Canterlot, just before the changelings came. She turned us all into changeling-fodder!" Lyra snorted and grimaced in disgust. "That's what she has done, Pinkie. That's a fact. So do allow me to not give a hoot about her supposed reasons!"

Taking a trembling breath, Lyra watched her half-eaten roll float in front of her.

"I wonder if you would be so lenient, had you been there yourself. If you had walked among the lifeless bodies," she mused sourly. She couldn't maintain her calm appearance; her anger was too great to suppress. It was gripping at her jaws, seeping into her voice. "I wonder what you would think had I ran away instead of putting my life on the line! Then you could have seen all the ponies here die, simply because a princess had deemed their lives less important than a freaking wedding! Seriously, do you think the changelings would have given anypony quarter? Of course not! Even those precious Mr and Mrs Cake of yours would have..."

Biting onto her tongue hard, Lyra yanked a hoof in front of her mouth. A useless gesture; she was too late. She got carried away and may have crossed an important line there.

A quite important line, if Pinkie's reaction was anything to go by. The pink baker was paralysed. She held still, her nose covered in the steam rising from her hot cocoa.

Real suave… ugh. Lyra cringed, pushing her hooves against her nose. I’m not going to convince anypony by threatening them.

"I'm so sorry," she stammered, burying her face in her hooves. "I didn't mean to say that. It just kind of... slipped out. I'm so sorry!"

The apology worked - Pinkie began moving again. First only her lips twitched, but then she turned away, humming, obviously lost in her thoughts. She didn't deliberate too lengthily; before long, she was twisting her neck until her gaze met Lyra's.

The normally happy-go-lucky pony looked remarkably sober.

"No, it's okay. You're right." Pinkie muttered, then shook her head with a dry giggle. "I haven't been there. I saw a little of the aftermath, but I... I can't think about it like you do. Mrs. Cake... it's strange, you know? Thinking of ourselves as targets of opportunity. Haha..."

Her ambiguous grin turning into a full-fledged smirk, Pinkie gave Lyra a hearty nod. Her curly mane bounced, almost swept the cup in front of her. That didn't hamper the pink pony's sudden enthusiasm, though; by the time their gazes met again, Pinkie's eyes were twinkling.

"OK! I'm game."

---

"I'll be counting on you," Lyra stated flatly. She then walked out the door, her windigo in tow.

A creek and a slam; those were all the farewells that had been exchanged.

Had that been a run-the-mill customer, Pinkie would have started scheming about the ways she could teach that pony some manners. Lyra was anything but a regular pony, though. So Pinkie simply stood behind the table in silence, the sweet rolls and her heavy thoughts her sole company.

Then a grumpy voice butted into her silent trance.

"I told ya' they're trouble, Boss."

The disapproving statement could only reach Pinkie with a delay. She reacted similarly slowly, too; she was virtually dragging her nose towards the black spider. She was so absent-minded that she was barely aware of her own actions.

"And don't get me started about that 'plan'! That ain't nothing but wishful thinking!" Axiom yelled, two of his eight legs holding the sides of his head. "These grasshoppers ain't got no chance against one princess! And there's two of 'em in Canterlot!"

"Weren't you listening? Lyra's got that angle covered." Pinkie sighed and reached for a sweet roll. She had heard too much; she needed some sugar to offset the bleak reality looming ahead of her.

"Covered HOW?!" Axiom shrieked, slamming another two legs onto his head. "Boss, seriously! Ya' can't go along with that! That plan ain't proper! Breaking an apprentice to throw the master off-balance... that ain't no better than attacking family! And if there's somethin' that's taboo, it's family!"

Chewing slowly and methodically, Pinkie bobbed her head up and down.

"I dun' like it eider," she mumbled with her mouth full. She turned her nose towards the ceiling and gulped; the roll wouldndidn't want to slide all the way down. She struggled for a while, then panted once her mouth was free. The first thing she did afterwards was pour the cup of cold cocoa down her throat.

"Then don't play along with 'em, Boss." Axiom growled. He removed the legs from his head and folded them in front of him. Even though he had no eyebrows, his dissatisfaction was plain as day.

"Sure thing. I'll just waltz over to Lyra this evening and call the whole thing off!" Pinkie leaned onto the table, her eyes rolling. "Then I'll come home and live happily ever-after! ...or right until the next disaster which leaves us scrambling to save the day. I wonder what it'll be! Dragons? Were-rabbits? Door-to-door salesponies with a misguided sense of appropriate presentation methods? Or perhaps changelings parading as door-to-door salesponies?"

She rolled her head to the side, only stopping when she heard loud clangs. Her mane brushed against the plate of rolls, shoving the whole thing to the side. They didn't fall off the table though, so she wasn't too worried about their relocation.

"I'm so thrilled to see what unnatural disaster will mark my transformation into a hero," she mumbled, her nose resting sideways on her leg. "So, do you think my two families will be okay when that happens, Axiom? Dad, Ma', Maud, the Cakes... they’re less than a dozen ponies altogether. What are they in the grand scheme of things? Would our careless god interrupt this game, just to spare them?"

There was a shuffling of legs. Pinkie didn't turn that way - she knew there was no need to. Rightly so, as Axiom appeared in her view before long. The spider was standing on the table opposing hers, his yellow eyes staring at her.

"I dun' think the Big Boss is that much evil," he stated. He tried to sound reassuring, but he clearly lacked the conviction to do so. His tone was much closer to apologetic.

"Doesn't need to be," Pinkie forced a weak smile and closed her eyes half-way. "We mortals are frail little beings, Axiom... tons of tiny eggs in a basket. Search furiously enough, and you are most certain to break a few."

Axiom scratched his head, most probably looking for an appropriate rebuttal. He came up short; some half-hearted humming was all he had managed to say.

"Guess I can see why ya'd want this game over ASAP, Boss." He finally conceded with a shrug. "Just remember - it ain't hard to get burnt when yer' playin' with fire."

Still resting on the table, Pinkie gave her servant a tired grin.

"Didn't you know? Fire and bakers go hoof-in-hoof," she giggled, then pushed herself off the table with a groan. "All-right! Let's do this. Axiom, I want Trixie Lulamoon to remember that she needs to meet with Lyra. And make sure she knows this message was deliberately planted by us! Wouldn't want her to misunderstand our intentions."

Axiom bowed in reverence, then yanked a quill and a small parchment into two of his many limbs.

"Sure thang', Boss. One appointment, comin' right up!"

---

"Well... now everything is in motion." Lyra sighed. She unlocked the belt and her saddlebags crashed to the floor. The heavy landing cracked one open, spilling its content onto the floor; a heap of oranges rolled in various directions, bouncing against the walls and each other.

Lyra observed the mini-mayhem with a wry grin. Then, once all the oranges had stopped, she absent-mindedly grabbed one and peeled it.

The sour smell hit her nose the moment she tore into the thick skin. Even though it was wringing her nose, she couldn't help but salivate anyway. She had been living - borderline starving - on canned vegetables for a week. Fruits were a refreshing change.

She bit into the orange, and the sour-sweet taste flooded her mouth. It was still impossible to eat an orange with dignity, though. Fat drops of juice raced past her mouth, staining her neck and dropping onto the floor as well. She wrinkled her eyebrows in disapproval. The wooden floor was somewhat delicate; she didn't want to tarnish lacquer.

Bon had always scolded her whenever she ate outside the kitchen for that exact reason.

Bon...

Staring at the remaining half of the orange, Lyra felt her expression soften. She shook her head and gave the distant memories a dark chuckle.

I'm sorry, Bon... but it's better that you don't know me now. Soon enough, I'll be the most hated villain Equestria has ever known.

She stuffed the orange into her mouth and began walking. She could feel tiny bumps as she moved; the loose oranges were getting knocked around by her hooves.

That's right. Lyra mused. Her gaze was solid as steel; she could feel her fears losing their grip on her. Guess I’ll be a hero after all... doing the right thing despite nopony ever recognizing it.

She crossed the doorway and looked around. The kitchen was still a disorganized mess, but that was all right. She paced to the table and began shuffling through the papers aimlessly. She wasn't looking for anything in particular - she just wanted to have the reassuring notion that she had accounted for most probabilities. That she had given it her best. That it wouldn't be a pointless endeavour.

I'll save everypony from this wicked game! Even if I have to cast everything aside in the process!

"Master?"

Giving the rummage a pause, Lyra twisted her neck and peeked behind her back.

Snowy was staring at her from the doorway. The windigo's head was tilted to the side, clearly pondering if Lyra was still all right in the head.

"I'm fine." Lyra flashed a half-hearted smile and returned her attention to the table. The false sense of security she had sought was nowhere to be found, though. All she could see were a bunch of papers. Hopes and unfinished calculations.

"If Master says so..." Snowy mumbled and took her spot next to the table. She scanned the pile of scribbled papers with a decidedly troubled glare. "I still say it was early to make our move. There are so many possibilities we haven't considered yet."

Lyra accepted that complaint with a loud moan. She had some doubts herself, there was no denying that. She dug a hoof into the pile of paper and stirred. The papers crumpled and shifted around; some fell off the table even, dropping to the floor in a slow, swaying motion.

"Don't worry so much, Snowy. This is good enough. We're good enough," Lyra exclaimed and retrieved a paper at random. "As long as there's a will, there's always a way."

Snowy frowned and looked away, obviously of a different opinion.

"Trixie moved out of town after her show was over," Lyra continued to talk as she studied the piece of paper. "This means we've got a few extra days before the real action starts. Might as well spend it honing the plan instead of worrying whether we should have already begun, don't you think?"

---

"This would be so much easier if we had another servant with us," Snowy whined. She was lying on the stove with her hooves on the top of her head, trying to be as flat as possible. "They would surely recall more than me."

"Well, too bad I don't have another servant who answers to me, right?" Lyra tried to silence the continuous barrage of negativity with a piercing glare.

"Couldn't have Master asked Axiom?" Snowy proposed in a hushed tone. "Master seems to be on good terms with Pinkie, so..."

Lyra shook her head. She had considered and rejected that option already.

"Pinkie may be helping me for now, but there are lines she wouldn't cross. There's no telling how she'll react once she sees me crossing them," she sighed and rubbed her face. Her eyes were watering; the strain was getting to her. It was night outside, and despite the many candles, she was struggling to read. The flickering, yellowish light was so weak that she had to work her eyes to their limit.

When those candle-flames were not being harassed by a gluttonous windigo, that is.

"True." Snowy nodded, and scratched the back of her neck, shifting around in discomfort. "Most ponies would reach for the pitchforks if they saw Master releasing Discord."

Staring at the paper floating in front of her, Lyra just barely subdued a snicker. Indeed, most ponies wouldn't consider releasing the draconequus a sensible idea. Though then again, most ponies were woefully ignorant about a lot of things that affected them. Virtually nopony knew about the servants - or, in fact, the whole game at large.

Lyra no longer allowed the judgement of such clueless masses impede her.

"Discord should be no big deal if my theory is correct," she smiled confidently and poked at the paper. "See, I've written down all the servants we've met. Axiom, the spider who can create memories from scratch. Sloth, the dragon who can erase feelings... and Origin, the gryphon who can conjure objects out of thin air. And you, of course - the windigo who causes pinpoint amnesia."

"Hmm. I guess I could make Discord forget about himself if he's too much of a pain," Snowy pondered out loud, her crimson eyes glued to the ceiling. "Then Axiom could make him think he's a good guy."

"Haha, you just described my contingency plan!" Lyra threw the windigo a wink. "Not bad - not bad at all! But that wasn't my point. I wanted to show you how all the servants share a few common traits."

Snowy seemed pretty interested. She cocked her head and perked her ears, listening to her master with complete devotion.

"Since this is a game, I guess the Source must have been trying to be fair. So far, every player we've met had a servant with some ridiculously broken power, right? But I was thinking, ‘there’s got to be more to it’," Lyra explained as she walked closer to the windigo. "I sought some logic in this madness. You see, all these powers seemed so random at first. I mean, c'mon on! Erasing memories? Creating objects? Erasing feelings? How does that even make sense?"

She paused and turned back to the table.

"Then just like, BAM! I've had this idea."

Lyra flipped the paper around, revealing a three-by-three grid. It was half-empty, only four names scribbled into various cells.

"Turns out, your powers are not as bonkers as I first thought. They follow a pretty simple distribution." Lyra giggled as she pushed the paper into Snowy's face. "It seems like servants are all-powerful only in a narrow, well-defined field. They can either create, alter or destroy... and the subject of their power will be either memories, feelings or tangible objects."

"Seems pretty arbitrary." Snowy squinted at the hastily scribbled notes. Her eyes sprang wide and she motioned at a name with a pleased grin. "Ooh! That's my name there!"

"It seems arbitrary because it probably is," Lyra placed to the paper next to the windigo. "These powers... I bet they come from the same source. It's like somepony took an omnipotent god and chopped it into nine parts."

She paced to the back of the kitchen and leaned against the wall. She stared at the white paint with glassy eyes, then turned her gaze back around, giving her windigo an evil grin.

"Don't suppose you know anypony who's omnipotent, right? Anypony who's also connected to this game?"

"Of course I do; the Source." Snowy rubbed her forehead with a leg. "The one who created all of us..."

Lyra gave that answer a curt nod. She was of the same mind.

"Maybe retrieving that omnipotent power is what all this nonsense is about," she mused as her magic lifted a peeled orange from the desk. "But you know what? I no longer care what this game is supposed to be about."

The orange floated to her face and Lyra took a slice into her mouth, chewing as she worked the gears in her mind.

Once I have enough servants under my command... once there are no players who could throw a wrench into my plans... then I'll be like a god unto myself.

Following that train of thought, freeing Discord was no big deal indeed. She simply had to dupe the mad chaos god into doing her a favour - and then stall him until she could collect some servants. Once she had successfully done that, even someone as powerful as Discord would be of no importance. At that point, she would be free to reform the world to her own image.

Taking another slice of orange into her mouth, Lyra felt pretty pleased by her cunning plan.

---

"Fancy restaurant," Trixie whistled. She kept her eyes on the waitress for a while, then let her gaze wander around the empty building.

"Kind of creepy without anypony else being around, though!" Origin shifted around. The ghostly gryphon looked uncomfortable; he was sitting next to his master, only a few inches short of huddling to Trixie's side.

"Good point." Trixie paid her servant a nod and shifted her gaze to Lyra. "You live here, don't you? Is this place going out of business or something?"

"Quite the opposite!" Lyra giggled behind the cover of her hoof. "They're so popular, the entire restaurant was booked by a small-time celebrity."

She leaned forward and grinned devilishly, even going as far as to wink. It wasn't strictly necessary, but she wouldn't want a perfectly good flaunt go over Trixie's head.

"Oooh." Trixie's went wide. "Trixie had no idea that musicians make this kind of money!"

Because we don't, Lyra cringed internally. Booking the whole restaurant for a few hours took a sizeable chunk of her savings. It wasn't even for a good reason - she could have just as well had the discussion at her place.

She had simply taken the opportunity to realize one of her long-time desires; she had always wanted to book a whole restaurant for herself, just like the big stars did. She simply wanted to know how it felt. Her days of normalcy were coming to an end anyway; she might as well enjoy them to the fullest.

"Pinkie really should have mentioned something about this!" Trixie sighed and took her pointy wizard hat off, throwing it on a nearby table. "Trixie never had a whole restaurant to herself. Not since the one she had accidentally set on fire."

"Well, this place doesn't allow shooting fireworks inside!" Snowy blurted out in a panicking hurry. She then retreated under the table, three pairs of angry eyes glaring at her.

Well, at least now she's recognizing when she's being awkward. Lyra gave her aching head a light massage. That's good... I guess?

"Aaaanyway." Trixie rolled her eyes and took her cape off. The cape, caught in the vice of her magenta magic, floated to the table where the wizard hat was already resting. "To what does Trixie owe this urgent and... well... unusual communique? You didn't even come to Trixie's last show, despite Trixie's request that you should. But now that she moved so far away... now you send a psychic message?"

"Ah, yes. I couldn't make it to your show... sorry about that. I was kinda occupied. But believe it or not, I plan to make up for that mistake right now." Lyra took up a warm smile and removed her hoof from her face. "Say, Trixie - did you ever want to be the greatest magician in Equestria?"

Whatever Trixie had been expecting, that sure wasn't it. Her jaw dropped and she froze completely, forgetting to even blink. Not even her own servant could snap her out of her stupor; she didn't react, no matter how loudly Origin cleared his throat.

Lyra knew what the servant was so nervous about. There was a momentary suspension of privacy; the waitress was returning. The green unicorn came out of the kitchen, carrying a greatly oversized plate above her head. She crossed the maze of tables even faster than last time, and placed the plate on Lyra's table; then she gave a respectful bow and hurried away.

"Pretty skilful." Lyra clacked her tongue and grabbed one of the mugs from the plate, raising it into the air. "Cheers!"

Trixie was starting to come to. She blinked and moved her eyes, staring at the other mug with a vacant expression. It took her a while to recognize the item; then she grabbed it with her magic.

"Uh... yes. Cheers..." she mumbled. She simply held onto the mug; apparently, she was still too confused to drink.

Lyra enjoyed the stunned silence. It was a clear signal; she was sure that deep down, Trixie had already accepted the offer.

Haha... it's nice to see Trixie's still clinging to her dream. You know, I was really worried she got over her spar with Twilight.

Trixie recovered from her befuddlement not long after. She blinked rapidly and took a gulp from her cider, drinking as if she had been camping in the desert for the last few days. Then she slammed the mug back onto the table with an utter lack of care, almost sending the mug tumbling away.

"How would you do that?" she leaned toward Lyra, unmasked greed dripping from her voice. The glitter in her eyes further reinforced how intent she really was. "Making Trixie the greatest magician... you, a mere musician?"

Lyra curled her lips into a triumphant smile. That trick worked better than she assumed it would.

Hook, line and sinker.

"I could make you Celestia's favoured student," she explained with a forcibly cool tone. Bouncing around and giggling like an amateur wouldn't have done her any favours. She needed to act like a professional, to bedazzle Trixie to the point where the magician couldn't possibly refuse.

"Celestia's favoured...!" Trixie gawked. She leaned forward so much that she was practically climbing onto the table. "But how? Twilight is-"

"Crazy powerful, yes. That doesn't make her immune to Snowy's powers though!" Lyra motioned at the crimson eyes hiding under the table. "Remember our last chat? You said that it would be trivial to take over the world with Snowy. Well... I agree with you now."

Lyra paused for a moment. She wanted Trixie to follow her, to understand her; she wanted her words to sink in.

"I'm now putting that potential to use," she put it as plainly as she could.

The act was a complete success. Trixie pulled back and gulped, visibly overwhelmed by the proposal. She reached for her mug, then put it back on the table, then yanked it up again and gulped the rest of the cider in one go.

"Indeed... you do have the means," Trixie mused, staring into the empty mug of hers. She jolted and snapped her head to Lyra, her eyebrows wrinkled. "But why would you do that for Trixie? Raising a hoof to Celestia's student is no laughing matter. Should you be found out..."

Lyra didn't let up on the self-confident smirk. She didn't even miss a beat; she had expected the question and had her answers prepared and memorized.

"I won’t be doing this because of your charming smile, of course. I expect to get paid for assisting with your... promotion," she explained nonchalantly. "I will need you to forge me a special contract. A magical one."

"Magic? Ha! Trixie now sees why you thought of her!" Trixie broke into a loud, boastful cackle. She realized her mistake a second later and slammed a hoof onto her mouth, turning her head around with a feeble expression. Her concerns were needless; the Four Clovers was still empty. Not even the waitress was around. Trixie registered the fact with a relieved sigh, almost collapsing onto the table.

"Great. I'll need a Geis contract scroll." Lyra stated her explicit demand in the firmest tone. "A blank one...!"

"A... Geis?!" Trixie gasped. She did collapse onto the table this time, covering her head with her hooves. "Those are incredibly complicated! Just designing a Geis takes years! How could Trixie procure something like that on such short order? And what's more - a blank one...!"

You're pretty honest for a vengeful magician, Lyra observed the miniature mental collapse. You also seem to have issues thinking outside the box.

Humming to herself, Lyra made a mental note to record that small flaw into her diary. It would probably become useful later. While Trixie had no idea, Lyra was sure they'd butt heads later on. It was unlikely that Celestia's new favoured student would sit idly and simply watch the princess go down.

That confrontation was inevitable, after all; Lyra needed the servants Pinkie had seen in Canterlot. Sure, it was possible that Celestia would agree to her plan and give her the servants without much fuss... but after the repeated attempts on her life, Lyra wasn't holding her breath.

"You don't need to design one," Lyra shook her head. "Just ask your servant to summon one. He knows how they look! The Source uses them all the time, after all."

Trixie looked as if a divine messenger had descended from the skies and given her a proclamation. She was bereft of words; she gaped silently at Lyra and then at her servant. She was staring at the ghostly gryphon for so long that Origin started to look uncomfortable. The green gryphon giggled and shirked away from the inquisitive gaze.

"I can do that. It's no problem!" he put his paws into the air, using both words and body language to calm his master. "But a Geis scroll isn't something Master should take lightly. Summoning an object of that complexity will be require a fitting toll."

"Do it!" Trixie rattled. "Trixie doesn't care what it takes! Trixie must have that scroll! Right now!"

"Master, this is a public restaurant." Origin pointed a claw upwards. "I'll gladly obey Master, but... this order is stupid. Should I proceed, Master will be doing a lot of screaming and bleeding. In a secluded place, that's probably fine... but here?"

The warning worked; Trixie recoiled with a mighty cringe.

Bleeding and screaming, huh... Lyra narrowed her eyes. She rose the mug to her face, mostly in an attempt to conceal her thoughtful expression. Sounds like physical damage. Which would make sense... Snowy eats into my memories whenever she tampers with somepony's head. So to summon objects, Origin probably takes a sacrifice from the body instead.

Another thing that would go into her diary as soon as she got home.

"Right.... right. You're right. Trixie got a little ahead of herself." Trixie nodded absent-mindedly. She must have started thinking really hard, as the bobbing wouldn't stop. She kept bouncing her head up and down as if it was a yoyo.

Watching the magician agonize over the available choices, Lyra felt pretty conflicted. On one hoof, that sight was utterly ridiculous. She wouldn't want make such a spectacle, period. On the other hoof, she also envied Trixie; she had never considered her choices with such depth. She had always made split-second decisions - and considering her time with Snowy, such quick-thinking had not really worked out well so far.

"Right. This is what we're going to do." Trixie mumbled once she put the oscillation of her head to a stop. "Trixie will finish this meal... and then return to her wagon. And by tomorrow morning, you will have your Geis scroll. That's surely good enough, yes?"

Grinning smugly, Lyra raised her mug and clanged it against the empty one of Trixie.

"You've got yourself a deal... future first student!" she chuckled with a deep, almost guttural tone. "That's only my payment, however. For this... performance, I'll need one more gadget."

There was no hesitation from Trixie this time.

"Doesn't matter. List your demands! Whatever you need, Trixie will provide!"

Comments

[Sage Probo]

Oy, you evolved Lyra into a heartless bastard real quick. Not that I don't like it, buuuuuuut.... I have to agree with Snowy here, she IS a bit rushing the whole thing.

[stupidswampdragon]

5957604 Well, wouldn't anypony in her hooves be desperate though? She needs to act and to do so quickly; she has somepony willing to ice her for Snowy, after all.