My Little Praetor: Phthisis is Magic

by FanOfMostEverything

Nostrums and Unguents

"Ready to go, Trixie?"

"I think so." The blue mare gave her saddlebags one last nervous adjustment. "Are you sure Princess Luna will be alright with this?"

"Absolutely," answered Twilight. It was sort of true. She was sure whether Luna would accept this project, after all.

A knock on the door interrupted any further truth twisting. Twilight looked to Trixie. "Are you expecting somepony?"

The other unicorn shook her head. "No more than I was you."

The knock sounded again, more insistent this time. "Well, no sense in being rude," reasoned Twilight. She pushed open the door. "May I help y— oh." She gave a nervous chuckle. "Um, hi, Cadence. You tracked the æther trail of my teleport, didn't you?"

The princess was not amused. "Twilight Sparkle, you are under arrest for the practice of forbidden magics, consorting with malign forces, and high treason against the crown of Equestria."

"Treason!?" cried Trixie.

Twilight turned and offered a sheepish smile. "I may have encased Celestia in a cocoon of changeling magic."

"There is no 'may' about it," barked Cadence. "If you do not come quietly, we have been authorized to use lethal force."

Twilight knew this wasn't the time for pedantry, but her curiosity got the better of her. "'We'? I didn't think you used the royal we."

More than fifty guard pegasi drifted into view, arrayed around the exit and cutting off any slim hope of escape that had survived the appearance of an angry Cadence. "I don't."

"Ah."

"Twilight?" Trixie's look of betrayal almost broke the other unicorn's heart. "How could you?"

"It's for the best!" Twilight insisted. "If everypony would just let me explain—"

"You can try to justify your actions however you wish once you are in custody." Cadence lowered her head, her horn lighting up with magenta power. "Now, are you going to come peacefully or not?"

Before Twilight could answer, the princess seemed to bulge towards her unnaturally. The unicorn shied back even as Cadence blinked in confusion. "What are you—"

Spacetime blossomed like a burst pipe, and with a not dissimilar sound. On the other side of the breach stood a familiar blue stallion. Clinical Trial locked gazes with Twilight. "Come with me if you want to live."

To Cadence, the opening had been a distortion that made the altered unicorn recede while standing still. Then the warped space became a free-floating funhouse mirror. When the princess tried to reach across it with her magic, she felt the tickle against her own body. A forehoof brought into the bent space twisted back on itself with a disturbing lack of pain, appearing unharmed after it was hastily retracted.

The phenomenon then undid itself, revealing an empty apartment. A heartbeat later, Cadence began delivering orders. "Search the building. There's no telelocular residue; they couldn't have gotten far."

The guardsponies spread out, the model of military efficiency.

Mi Amore Cadenza watched them pursue a criminal and her heart swelled with pride, soothing the indignity of the rogue's escape.

Cadence the foalsitter, meanwhile, muddled over something that didn't quite mesh with the scenario. For all that Twilight had become a twisted mockery of her former self, her heart was as full of love as ever. Maybe even more so.

---

Beneath the cliff that supported Canterlot, Spike considered his next move. When Twilight had left the plane, his suppressed free will had returned to the fore. It was actually kind of frustrating. Before, his purpose had been clear: protect, obey, and advise his mistress/mother/sister/boss. Now a number of drives, desires, and instincts were vying for his attention. Eat! Lair! Horde! Infect! It was maddening! He didn't know how he'd dealt with it before.

Spike sighed, green smoke wafting from his mouth. "Right," he said aloud, trying to drown out the innumerable impulses, "let's look at this rationally:

"What do I want to do?" He shook his head. "No, no, that's entirely the wrong question. What I want is making itself known all too well. What should I do?"

His foreclaws beat a tattoo against the rock of the Canterhorn. "Should, should. There's a tricky question. Hmm..." Spike grinned. "Ah. Of course. Just think of it as Twilight going on a vacation. Celestia knows she needs one. Now, normally I would have some chores about the library. However, given where it is at the moment, trying to perform them would be suicide. So, I suppose I've got some free time. What to do with it?"

A moment of thought, and the dragon burst into laughter. "Of course! Lady Rarity will surely appreciate my assistance. I'll just wait until it's dark out. Bit hard to miss the contrail, otherwise."

---

Ditzy trotted to answer the knock on the door. "Always just before dinner... Applejack?"

The farmhoof nodded. "Evenin', Ditzy. Address in?"

"Sure. Why?"

"He an' Ah got ourselves a li'l arrangement, y' see, an'—"

Applejack had been making her way inside, but found the doorway suddenly full of irate pegasus. "No," Ditzy snarled through gritted teeth, "I don't see. Please, tell me about this 'arrangement'."

The orange mare flinched back. "Shoot, girl, Ah ain't tryin' t' steal yer stallion or nothin'! It's justa deal we got called an Express Bushel."

"Sure it is," Ditzy sneered. "So, what do you need for that, a bridle? A riding crop?"

Judging by Applejack's expression, the earth pony wasn't sure if she was more insulted, appalled, or impressed. "Dang, that mind o' yers is filthier 'n a pigsty in an earthquake!" She chuckled. "An Express Bushel's just when Ah get a bit of a bulk discount for sendin' somethin' t' all mah kin at th' same time."

"...Oh." Ditzy blushed furiously and stepped aside. "Never mind. Come on in."

---

Steven Magnet was midway through his evening constitutional when he hit the foulness. The sweet waters of his home abruptly gave way to a foul and odious murk. The serpent expressed his displeasure with the change in a characteristically debonair manner.

"Ewww! Get it off, get it off, get it off!"

Shuddering, Steven resumed his course upstream, keeping his head above water. He soon reached the source of the pollution. It was an unsightly brute of a creature the size of his head, built like an elephant but with the head of an eyeless gorilla. Its fur was a felted mass of split ends, its teeth were an unsightly shade of yellow, it stank like you wouldn't believe, and as if that wasn't enough, it had the gall to vomit a torrent of black corruption into the river.

The serpent put a stop to that, forcing the beast's maw shut with an immaculate talon. "Excuse me," he chided, "but some of us have to live in this river, thank you very much."

Oil dribbled out between the monstrosity's fangs. In a surge of unnatural strength, it threw off the offending finger and snapped a bite out of it for good measure.

Steven looked at his hand, aghast. "M-my manicure!" Tears as big as ponies welled in his eyes. "Oh, it will take weeks to fix this, weeks!"

Judging by the snarling and the bunching muscles, the creature wasn't feeling particularly remorseful.

Steven would be the first to admit that he was something of a dandy, but he was still a serpent. He had stopped growing only because if he were any larger, he wouldn't be able to turn around. Thus, while the savage backhand he dealt to his assailant was limp-wristed by serpentine standards, it was still enough to send the plaguemaw beast through several trees.

The immaculate draconid gave a sharp, satisfied nod. "Let that be a lesson to you, you ruffian."

Steven examined his hand again, utterly unaware of the irony. He sighed. "No convenient fabulous unicorns nearby to offer a helping horn this time. Alas."

Excuse me, Count Magnet?

The serpent blinked in surprise. "Technically," he said slowly, "but last I heard, Celestia hadn't recognized Leviathan's annexation." He smirked and continued more comfortably. "And a good thing, too. I've simply no stomach for politics." He started to scan the shore. "To whom am I speaking?"

Try the other bank of the river.

The alleged count turned and surveyed the other side of his home. "I'm not seeing you."

Down here.

Steven submerged much of his upper body for a better vantage point. "What, next to the rabbit?"

The rabbit shook its head.

The serpent gave a delighted gasp. "Oh, one of you! I haven't spoken to one of you delightful creatures in ages!" He rested his head in his palms. "What brings you here, little one?"

The fate of the world.

Steven sighed. "Of course. No one even just wants to visit. No, it's got to be of the most vital importance before they call in old Steve. Even Miss Rarity stopped happening by after a few months. Darn shame, that. I've never gotten better hair care tips before or since."

To her credit, the lagomath felt rather guilty. I... I'm sorry. I'll just go. Her shameful retreat was cut off by a sudden wall of purple scales.

"Oh, you precious thing, you," cooed the serpent. "I never said I wouldn't help. Now tell your Uncle Steven all about it and we'll see if I can be of assistance. It's got to be more interesting than the drama over who's inheriting the Pearl Duchy."

---

Twilight looked around, eyes wide in amazement. Every surface shined like a liquid mirror. The smell of science – metal, oil, and ozone – filled the air. A pair of blue unicorns offered a comforting anchor of familiarity as she took in the fascinating alien environment around her. Voice soft with wonder and awe, Twilight asked, "What is this place?"

"This is Lumengrid," answered Clinical Trial. "The nerve center of the Progress Engine, where new intellectual frontiers are explored every day." He gave a proud smile, then turned to the door. "Come with me."

A dozen hooves clanged against a floor like mercury frozen in midflow. The chamber opened into a hallway webbed with pulsing vessels, like a great silver gullet. Twilight's surprise redoubled "Where in Equestria, no, in all Ungula is this place?"

"Oh, we're not on Ungula," Trial said casually.

Twilight stumbled. "W-we aren't? You're a planeswalker?"

The stallion went still for the barest fraction of a second. "You know about planeswalkers? Interesting. And no. We used an interplanar portal."

"Interplanar portal?" Twilight's eyes lit up, her mind abuzz with the arcane innovations such a device implied.

"We?"

The unicorns came to a halt. Trial turned, noticing Trixie for the first time. "What are you doing here?"

She swallowed nervously. It hadn't been hard to stay unnoticed while the stallion had been focused on Twilight, but no, she just had to open her big mouth. "Trying not to wet myself, honestly."

"I couldn't leave Trixie there!" cried Twilight. "She's an accessory, an accomplice! I'm responsible for her now!"

I suppose she's going to feed me and take me for walks, too? Trixie wasn't ungrateful, she just took issue with how Twilight was presenting the matter.

Trial considered the situation for a moment, then resumed the journey. "Whatever. There's no harm in bringing her. Father may even be able to find a use for her."

"Gee, thanks," Trixie muttered. Honestly, between the two of them...

"Genuine gratitude would be advisable," noted Trial. "We've had few Ungulan specimens to study thus far. Another pony to vivisect would certainly not be unwelcome."

Trixie blanched. "V-vivisect?"

---

Red Jacket regained consciousness, then tried to recall who he'd lost it. Last he remembered, he'd been in his family's shop is Des Maines, sewing the lining onto poncho for a weather pegasus. After that, it was all a blur, and now everything was shrouded in darkness.

"(Observation: Cubital joint of specimen 766 shows range of motion closer to acromial joint of specimen 277 than analogous joint of specimen 142.)"

Jacket's eyes snapped open at the voice, which in turn made him realize that his eyes had just been closed. He was more concerned about the voice, though, an unsettling blend of hisses, clicks, and grunts like a song-and-dance number performed by a giant spider.

"(Observation: Specimen 766 has regained consciousness twenty percent earlier than predicted given sedative dosage. Initial hypothesis: Enhanced metabolism and/or resistance to foreign substances.)"

The earth stallion swallowed. "H-hello?"

"(Observation: Vocalization detected from specimen 766. Translation matrix engaged. No information of any consequence communicated.)"

More arachnid musical theater. Still, there was a kind of pattern to it. Maybe it was a language? "Where am I?" Red asked as he got up. Er, tried to get up. His body didn't seem to respond. "Why can't I move my legs?"

"(Observation: Attempted movement, further vocalization detected from specimen 766. Cerebellar dampening holding. Information requests communicated. Consulting sective Sarnvax for proper course of action.)"

The pony gave an uneasy smile. "Th-that sure was a lot of stuff I didn't understand just now." He knew he was starting to panic. He always babbled when he panicked, like that time he got ketchup all over a silk gown his mother had been working on for a week. She'd had to stuff a tomato-flavored clump of the ruined dress in his mouth to stop his apology.

All Spidervoice had to do was keep talking. "(Response received from sective Sarnvax. Adjusting vocal output.)" After a sound like a hydra trying to clear all of its throats at once, the voice spoke again, this time in weirdly modulated but understandable Equestrian. "Can you understand me?"

Red shivered. Whatever the thing was, it managed to speak his native tongue in a shrill screech, a grinding rumble, and a vibration he felt in his bowels all at once. Still, at least he knew what it was saying. "Yes," he answered, his own voice sounding very small and terribly insignificant. "Where am I?"

"You cannot fathom the true nature of your present location." This was said monotonously, but not out of boredom. It was as though the voice just didn't know any other way to speak.

"How did I get here?"

"By means beyond your comprehension."

Despite the situation, annoyance began to creep into Red's voice. "Are you going to tell me what's going on, or is that too advanced for me too?"

"It is not." The unseen speaker didn't even seem to notice the pony's flippant tone. "You are helping us better understand your species."

The stallion broke into a cold sweat. Oh Celestia, he'd been abducted by aliens. "H-how?" Please don't be anal probing, please don't be anal probing...

"Vivisection."

Red considered this for a moment. "Have you started?"

"Yes. (Observation: Heart rate and respiration of specimen 766 rising precipitously. Adrenal function indicates panic response. Cerebellar dampening holding.)"

"Why doesn't it hurt?"

"Pain signals are being intercepted before they reach your brain. They would cause you to convulse and ruin incision precision."

"Oh. Is that why I'm not afraid?"

"No. Judging by your physiological responses, you are afraid. However, you also appear to be in shock."

"Oh."

For a time, the only sounds were Red Jacket's shallow breaths, spidery tap-dancing, and a few faint wet noises that the pony tried not to think about. Finally, he asked, "May I see you?"

There was a brief pause. Even the faint wet noises stopped. "I don't see why not."

Something moved into Red's field of vision, currently locked on the silvery ceiling. It was like a dead squid, its pallid flesh pocked with rounded chunks of silver. Tentacles resolved themselves as corded neck muscles, dipping down beneath a narrow, exposed rib cage. Uncaring black eyes gazed down at the pony, noting every twitch of his muscles, every pulse of his heart, all without a single spark of compassion.

Red Jacket stared into those soulless pits, entranced in horror until claimed by merciful unconsciousness.

Selinus, vedalken anatomist, considered this for a moment. Switching back to Phyrexian, he spoke for the benefit of the transcriptor overseeing the examination. "Observation: Specimen 766 has lost consciousness. Cause: Hyperventilation. Corollary: Irrational fear response exhibited when specimen was presented with sight of compleated individual. Note possible applications for psychological warfare. Resuming vivisection of dextro-anterior limb."

---

"Of course," Trial answered Trixie. "We must understand how your species functions currently to determine how best to improve it."

Twilight frowned. "'Your species'? Aren't you a unicorn yourself?"

"In form, perhaps," the stallion conceded, "but not for much longer. By taking you where I am, I am fulfilling the final task that requires this shape."

"Oh..." The purple mare bit her lip. "Er, will you still... um, what will you—"

"She wants to know if you'll still have as nice a flank." Trixie smirked at the near-identical expressions of shock this inspired. "Well, you do."

Clinical Trial briefly did a passable fish impression. Finally, he just said, "Ah." He noted a doorway. "Oh good, we're here. And can stop talking."

He entered the room at a brisk trot and called, "Father, she's arrived!"

"Excellent."

Trixie shivered. She knew that voice. She'd used it herself far too often to ever forget it. It was the purr of the scoundrel, the deceptively sweet tone of somepony offering a poison apple and beachfront property in Canterlot to eat it in.

When the gangling chrome monstrosity strode into view, it almost came as a relief. Few had the decency to look like a monster as well.

Jin-Gitaxias strode towards the trio with a suggestion of a smile beyond his usual rictus grin. "My little pony." He paused, noting Trixie. "And friend, it would seem. The Great and Powerful Trixie, if I am not mistaken."

Trixie shook beneath the fiend's eyeless gaze. Okay, never mind that bit about the relief. "Y-you've heard of me?"

"She was with Miss Sparkle when I opened the portal," explained Trial. "I'm sorry. I should've closed the aperture earlier."

"Nonsense," answered Gitaxias. "I have the utmost confidence that Miss...?"

Trixie leapt to fill in the gap. This clearly wasn't the sort of being you kept waiting. "H-Hobbitses. Sir."

"That Miss Hobbitses will prove nearly as valuable as Miss Sparkle. Perhaps even more so."

Twilight, stunned into silence by the figure before her, finally found her tongue. "I'm sorry, but capable of what? Why me? Who are you?"

The praetor shook his head. "Ugh. Of course. My apologies, Miss Sparkle. I had all of this planned out, but I'm afraid the unexpected inclusion of your colleague has rather thrown me for a loop. Now, in order:

"Your intellectual and magical prowess will prove invaluable in our continual quest for perfection. You were chosen because, when impartially considering all candidates for aiding our humble operation, one must logically conclude that Twilight Sparkle is best pony. And I? I am Jin-Gitaxias. Augur of the Core, Praetor of the Progress Engine, and your new mentor." He bowed. "Charmed, I'm sure."

---

Applejack knocked on the cottage door. "Fluttershy! Y' in, sugarcube?"

The pegasus opened the top half of the door. "Oh, good evening, Applejack. Have you seen Rainbow Dash?"

The farmhoof blinked, surprised by the question. "Uh, nope. Ain't seen RD all day. Expectin' her fer somethin'?"

Fluttershy demurred. "Oh, it's probably nothing important. I'm sure she's fine. You know how she can be." She looked back up. "Um, if you do see her, could you tell her I'm here? Waiting?"

Applejack gave a warm smile. "Sure thing, darlin'. Ah'll make sure that hothead treats a lady right."

"What? Oh!" The pink-maned mare sank beneath the closed half of the door, trailing mumbled denials.

This got a chuckle out of Applejack. "That ain't why Ah'm here though. Angel in?"

"Angel?" Fluttershy peeked over her door. "Um, yes, he is, but... why?"

"Ah've got mah reasons."

Fluttershy opened the way. "Um, Angel, you.. have a visitor?"

The rabbit hopped to the front of the room, clearly in no hurry and clearly making sure that Applejack saw that he was in no hurry. She entered the cottage with a similar lack of haste. Wars had been fought with less animosity.

Applejack glared down at Angel. Having been on the receiving end of the true Stare, he met her gaze unflinchingly. The farmhoof blinked first and sighed. "Now listen here, Angel. Ah don't like you an' you don't like me, but there's somethin' in them woods that don't give two hoots 'bout neither of us. Ah know yer more 'n jus' some varmint, an' y' know Ah know. Ah reckon that, like it or not, we gotta work t'gether t' beat these things. Whaddaya say?" She held out the proverbial olive branch and a literal forehoof.

The lagomath shook the offered limb without a moment's hesitation. He'd have made the offer himself had there been a quill and parchment on paw.

"This don't mean Ah'm happy with yer cronies stealin' mah apples."

Angel nodded and smirked. Oh, this wasn't burying the hatchet. This was just changing where it was being swung.

---

Shining Armor paced in his office. He wasn't a deskbound officer most of the time, and his office, barely twice the size of that desk, showed it. However, chasing down the fugitive had become an aerial matter, especially after Cadence had insisted on leading the counterassault.

Some ponies considered it odd that the Princess of Love had joined the Guard. Her husband simply noted that, as the saying went, all was fair in love and war. It was only fair that the two be combined.

Shining made a point of referring to the target of the operation as "the fugitive," even in his mind. The alternative was to accept that the... thing that had incapacitated him actually was his little sister. He wouldn't, couldn't do that.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in, Cadence." The rank and file rarely dared to approach their captain at times like this.

The alicorn entered, her expression indecipherable. Shining recognized it as her "court face," the carefully cultivated poker face essential for Canterlot politics. In the matching neutral voice, she said, "I have good news and bad news."

Her husband restrained a groan. "What's the bad news?"

"She's gone."

Shining frowned. "Gone where?"

Cadence wingshrugged. "Just gone. Some kind of spacial rift. We'll have to get some specialists from the Academy to analyze it."

The stallion didn't bother holding back the groan this time. "Wonderful. A clean getaway."

"And she took the Night Librarian with her."

"What? Why?"

Cadence shrugged again. "I don't think it was intentional. However, it leads into the good news."

"Princess Luna can track her student?"

This got a shake of the head. "I haven't asked, but probably not."

Shining stomped the floor in frustration, leaving cracks in the marble. "Of course not. That would make things too easy. What is it?"

"It's definitely Twilight."

The unicorn's mouth worked silently for some time. Finally, he cried, "How is that good news? In what way could the compromising of the keystone of the Elements of Harmony, Celestia's personal student, and my baby sister possibly be seen as good news!?"

Cadence offered a soft smile. "Because her heart is still pure."

Shining calmed down a bit. Visibly, at least. He still seemed tenser than most bowstrings. "Go on."

"Twilight's body has been twisted by whatever she's been exposed to, but the love in her heart is, if anything, even greater. than before." The alicorn's smile grew. "I don't think she's being corrupted, Shining. I think the corruption's getting Sparkled."

"I see." Strategically, the captain of the guard knew he couldn't rely on an "I think," even from the premiere authority on the subject. Fraternally, Shining Armor embraced the hope with all he had. "I'll arrange something with Archchancellor Rid—"

He was cut off by a black sphere suddenly expanding into existence before him. The void expelled a scroll, then collapsed as quickly as it had come. Shining magically lifted and unrolled the missive, noting the silver crescent seal. "A message from Princess Luna?"

Once he read the last line, the scroll crumbled to dust, a signature security measure of the younger diarch. The expression this revealed sent chills down Cadence's spine. "What is it?"

"You're going to have to speak to the Archchancellor, love," Shining said distantly. "Luna's convening a war council."

---

Rarity considered the sketch. It was certainly different from her usual work. No frills, no accents, no tasteful gemstone encrustations. Of course, this design wasn't exactly wearable, per se.

The drawing resembled a blueprint more than anything, with front, side, cutaway, and exploded views of the object in question. Said object was essentially a glorified button clasp, incorporating mana feeds and synthetic nerves that would allow compatible accessories to become extensions of the wearer. Of course, in order to do so, one half of the bit-sized clasp had to be physically attached to the pony's body.

It wasn't like a piercing. It would require more than a little surgery to install or extract, and aside from any other objections, that would significantly drive up the cost. Not that those other concerns were easily dismissible, of course. The very concept strained just how far the excuse of avant-garde could be stretched.

But still, all that being said, the tantalizing possibilities danced in Rarity's mind's eye: Capes that could billow dramatically at will, brooches that could serve as discrete eyes, jewels that could change color to match any outfit, and those were just the start! Surely, if she showed what was possible with this device, every designer from Maris to Miloin would jump on board. But who would agree to help her demonstrate it?

The fashionista shook her head. How terribly shortsighted of her. Was there not a conflict brewing in her own proverbial backyard? Why relegate her work to the catwalk when a practical demonstration could save countless lives?

Now, all she had to do was puzzle out the logistics of self-surgery...

A knock at the door interrupted Rarity at this point, prompting a peevish sigh. "Honestly, what do ponies take me for?" she muttered as she made for the front of the Boutique, remembering to force herself to all fours for propriety's sake. "Some kind of... of... all-night delicatessen?"

Rarity threw open the door, ready to refuse the rube's requests for ruffs or reubens, when she realized she was looking at a flat, scaled abdomen. Her gaze travelled up. And up. And then back a bit, so she could go up some more. Her scathing remark died in her throat. The corpse sounded quite like "C-can I help you?"

The creature ducked through her door with smooth grace and delicate care. It considered her for a moment, then essayed a bow that would make etiquette coaches weep. "I am ever your humble servant, Milady," it rumbled.

"Oh! Oh my. Oh my, oh my." Rarity knew she was blushing horribly. Still, who could blame her? It was like something out of... well, she'd certainly never admit she read those sorts of novels, but this would've fit right in. "A-and to what do I owe the honor, good sir?"

The dragon – it could be nothing else, though Rarity had never heard of a dragon so regal and dashing – blinked at her, a hint of perplexity showing through its noble mien. "Do you not recognize me?"

The creature's sudden appearance had blindsided Rarity, but now she was getting back her eye for detail. Green belly. Purple body. Green spines. No. No, surely not. She realized her mouth had fallen open in shock, and she quickly composed herself into what she hoped was a genuine-seeming smile. "I... Spike never told me he had a brother."

The alleged sibling quirked an eye crest. "As far as I know, I do not." Spike grinned. "Come now, Lady Rarity. It's only been a day. Surely I haven't grown that much?"

"No," muttered the designer, "you grew more." In the controlled chaos of her mind, an idea clicked into place. "You've come at quite the opportune time, Spike."

"Oh?"

"Indeed. You've made my next project ever so much simpler. You've helped Twilight perform autopsies in the past, yes?"

Spike nodded and smirked. "Ne'er shall I forget her attempts to validate the reading of entrails as a legitimate means of divination."

Rarity beamed. "Marvelous. Let me show you what I've got so far..."

---

"Wakey wakey, Dashie!"

"Ugh... Not now, Pinkie..." Realization struck. Dash bolted upright. "Pinkie!"

Sure enough, before her stood the smiling, poofy-maned mare. Except the smile was becoming more uneasy. "Well, not exactly."

The pegasus frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Not-Exactly-Pinkie swept a hoof across the landscape, or rather, the lack thereof. "You notice how we're in a gray, featureless expanse of unattributed dialogue?"

"Of what?" asked Dash.

"Okay, so the dialogue's attributed. The point is, I'm not really here, you're not really here, even here isn't really here."

Rainbow wrestled with this concept for a moment, then found herself mentally pinned. "So... what is here?"

"The long version would require you to be at least a Basillusionist to just to understand the terminology," answered Approximately-Pinkie. "The short answer? You're dreaming. Lucidly, yes, but dreaming."

The speedster nodded. That made sense. As much sense as dreams or Pinkie ever did, at least. "So what are you, then?"

"Well, that one doesn't have a short answer, so I'll try to keep the mysticulinary lingo to a minimum." The doppel-Pinkie took a deep breath. "As you may have guessed, metacapsaicin is an incredibly magical substance. It also exhibits high psychic sensitivity, which is why you shouldn't taunt it." She winced. "Guess I should've said not to ignore that particular warning. Sorry."

Dash wingshrugged. "Eh, wouldn't be the first time doing something dumb got me burned. Still, that doesn't explain what you are."

"I'm getting to that. See, because the metacapsaicin spent so long in proximity to Pinkie Pie, she left a mental imprint on it, and, well..." She spread her hooves. "There you have me!"

"So... you're a clone of Pinkie's mind in magic hot sauce?"

The hot sauce mindclone nodded. "It's a lot like Silly Putty and newspaper comics."

"Oh." Dash considered this for a moment. "Wait, what's silly putty?"

Pinkie II frowned at this. "Oh. I guess real me hasn't introduced it to Equestria yet. Well, all in good time."

Something nagging at the back of the blue mare's mind finally broke through. She looked at her wings. Her glorious, wonderful, fully intact wings. "It worked. It worked! Omigoshomigoshomi—"

Dash's rant was stifled by a pink hoof in her mouth. Its owner gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Dashie, but I'm gonna have to cut you off right there. See, this is a dream, which means that that's not your body. It's your self-image. Your wings look fine because you still think they're fine subconsciously."

"But they'll be fine for real soon, right?" Desperation trickled into Dash's voice. "Right?"

"Weeeell, yes and no," vacillated quasi-Pinkie. "See, this wasn't a cure. It was a catalyst. And not the delectable kind, either."

"So what does that mean?"

"Well, you'd have to ask Gouda. He's the one who makes the— Oh, you meant the other thing! Basically, your wings are... let's call it 'evolving.' 'Mutating' has some pretty iffy connotations." The mind clone noted the dreamer's blank look. "Anyway, the point is your wings are reshaping themselves and the metacapsaicin is letting them do it much faster than if they were just feeding off of your internal mana supply."

Dash turned this over in her head a few times. "So am I going to be able to fly or what?"

"By midnight tonight." The pink specter's gaze drifted to the featureless ground. "I just hope you weren't too attached to your feathers..."

Dash suppressed a shudder. "So, bat wings?"

The apparition snorted at this. "What? No! You think the Night Guard has new recruits chug hot sauce as part of their initiation?" A few chuckles and she added, "It's moonshine, silly!"

"Butterfly wings, then? I don't think they'll be able to handle my moves."

"Nope. No gossamer or morning dew for you, Dashie."

"Well what, then?" Rainbow cried in frustration.

This got a look of mild astonishment. "What, and ruin the surprise?"

"This is kind of important to me, Pinkie!"

"Then wake up."

"And how am I supposed to do—"

---

"That?" Dash blinked. She was sprawled out on a wooden floor. It was dark, but something was casting a dim, reddish light that described a boxy shape in front of her. She was back in Pinkie's room. Technically, she supposed she'd never left. "Huh. That was easy."

Her whereabouts confirmed, the speedster moved to her next priority, her wings. Turning her head, she soon found the source of the glow. "By Celestia's beard..."

---

Fabulous Serpent 5U
Creature — Serpent
Fabulous Serpent can't attack unless it's enchanted.
"You really expect me to fight? Well, you'd better know a good manicurist, a stylist, a scale polisher, a cosmetic dental hygienist, a mustache specialist, a..."
5/5

Fabulosity Matrix 2
Artifact — Equipment
Living weapon
Equipped creature gets +1/+1 for each Equipment attached to it.
Equip 3
"Never underestimate the power of accessorizing."
—Alabaster Etchings, plate 26

Comments

[nemryn]

Why not Specimens # 28 and 142?
'Trixie Hobbitses'

"I don't think she's being corrupted, Shining. I think the corruption's getting Sparkled."

Yes, Phyrexian oil does have a way of making you think you're beating it, doesn't it?
Would that be Archchancellor Riddle Cruller?

[FanOfMostEverything]

1020552 In order:
*Because specimen 28 had a nasty tendency to cease to exist before the first incision could be made. (Also, since Besieged was the second set, I added 249 [the number of cards in Scars] to the Commando's collector's number.)
*That's been her name since Elementals of Harmony.
*No comment at this time.
*Maaaaaybe.

[That_one_guy]

>Trixie Hobbitses

triblocal.com/mchenry/files/2012/05/BILL-TED.jpg

The plot thickens! So many threads to keep track of. Also nice to see Steven Magnet kick some ass. I love that guy.

[Zap Rowsdower]

Hmmm, judging from this chapter, methinks that when Twilight learns that the hot stallion didn't really care about her and was using her as a vector to spread the Oil, Phyrexia will learn the fury of a mare scorned...

[The Magister]

Weeeee update. :)

I counted 2 references to Discworld in a casual glance (weatherwaxed vamperism and the arch archchancellor). There may be more I missed.

[Psykosis]

I have read many stories on this site, but yours is the first that I have been compelled enough to comment on that I had to make an account. And that comment is... Trixie Hobbitses. You magnificent bastard. That has to be the best name for any character I have ever seen, and I love you for it.

That is all.

[Proginoskes]

So Rainbow Dash now has permanent Magefire Wings? Nice.
Jin-Gitaxias has direly underestimated Twilight Sparkle. She isn't pure Blue; she's Izzet-style Blue-Red (Izzet brains and Izzet boilers: contents under pressure!). She has a much larger capacity for raw destruction than Gitaxias is anticipating, and once she realizes that his goals are incompatible with hers and are inflexible, she will unleash that destructive potential.

[FanOfMostEverything]

1136130 Close. It's something of a blend of the flavor texts of Slaughterhouse Butcher and Drastic Revelation.

[Blissey1]

1136154 ah, Slaughterhouse Butcher is the flavor text i was thinking of! I just remembered parties and everyone dieing...

anyway, as to the story itself. Loved Elementals of Harmony, Sideboard was fun, I'm very much enjoying this as well. I was kinda annoyed at first at Twi falling to the dark side again, but now it's starting to seem that maybe the dark side is actually falling to her, so I'll just have to see how that turns out. and I certainly wasn't expecting lagomath society to get fleshed out like this!

Looking forward to more!