• Published 19th May 2016
  • 1,948 Views, 20 Comments

The Problem With Genie Magic - chillbook1



Trixie is lost in the desert when she comes across a certain magical artifact that could be her ticket out. Except... genie magic has some inherent issues

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It's Not Ideal

Trixie really couldn’t remember why she thought the Badlands would be a good place to make money. She was certain that, at the time of her departure, it made perfect sense. Now, three weeks and twenty heatstrokes later, the original brilliance of her plan had completely escaped her. Things weren’t all bad, though. She hadn’t been laughed at or booed out of any towns in the past twenty-one days, and cactus water was actually quite refreshing. Still, she was stuck in Nowhere, Middle of, and had no way to make it back to civilization.

Until she found the lamp.

“This sun is unbearable,” groaned Trixie, all but dragging her hooves through the burning red sand. Three weeks of isolation had caused Trixie—who already had a tendency to talk to herself—to have full-on conversations with nopony. It was the only way for her to retain any semblance of her already-fragmented sanity. “If only there was some place to rest.” She stopped and looked down at the sand, an idea forming in her mind. “Oh! Perhaps Trixie could dig a burrow, like a snake or a falcon!” With nopony around to correct her on the extremely false notion that falcons lived in holes, Trixie used her forehooves to shovel sand away. She wasn’t digging for long before her hooves touched something smooth and dusty.

And really, really hot.

“Ow! Owowowowow!” Trixie squealed, pulling back her hoof, which was almost glowing an angry shade of red. “What in the name of the Goddess was that?!” Trixie lit up her horn (failing to realise that her magic would’ve made the whole burrow thing go a lot easier) and wrapped her magical aura around whatever had burned her. With a deft mental tug, she wrenched the scorching something out of the sand and held it before her face.

It appeared to be a Saddle Arabian oil lamp, though Trixie couldn’t even guess what it was doing in Southern Equestria. It was made of gold or brass, though it was hard to tell on account of the layer of red dust clinging to its surface. There was some sort of engraving on the surface, one that Trixie couldn’t quite make out. It was a name, she was sure of it, though she couldn’t make out anything past the beginning letter of “D”. Curiously, Trixie brought the lamp close and blew on it, attempting to push some of the obstruction away. When that failed, she quickly swiped her hoof across the lamp’s surface.

Golden light shrouded the lamp, growing more intense as the seconds ticked by. A thick plume of lavender smoke poured from the lamp’s spout, folding and coiling into a thick cloud. The collection of smoke burst outwards, revealing the form of a unicorn mare’s torso with a long, straight-cut mane, sparkling violet eyes, a pink veil behind her head, and an expression that could only be described as “peeved”.

“Greetings, mortal who has found my lamp,” said Twilight, her eyes closed and her voice a total deadpan. “I am Twilight Sparkle, the mystical genie of the lamp. For freeing me from my prison, I offer my servitude to you and shall grant you any three of your heart’s desires.”

“Twilight?” Trixie tilted her head in confusion. “How…?” Twilight groaned, resting her face in her hooves.

“Hello, Trixie. How are you?” sighed Twilight.

“Erm… Fine, I suppose. Trixie is rather stranded in the desert, but I’m more worried about you.” said Trixie, barely stifling a laugh. Twilight raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Well, it seems to Trixie that you’re missing a few legs.” Twilight looked down at herself, a wispy tail of smoke in place of her rear hooves.

“It’s part of the whole genie thing,” grumbled Twilight. “Look, can you just make your wishes so I can go home?”

“Wait, wait, Trixie needs to know.” Trixie was really struggling to hide her amusement now. “What happened to you? How did you get into that lamp?”

“Magic, a cattle prod, and twenty-eight sticks of butter,” said Twilight flatly. “And what happened to me was Discord.” Trixie peered at the lamp a bit more closely, confirming the engraving on its side to be the name “Discord”.

“I thought he had reformed, like Trixie,” said Trixie. “Or Starlight Glimmer. Or Princess Luna. Or that one mare that was Celestia’s student before you. Or those Sirens Trixie heard about.” Trixie tapped her hoof in thought. “Hm. Have you ever actually beaten one of your opponents? Or do you befriend them all?” Twilight sighed. Of all the ponies to find the lamp, it just had to be Trixie.

“Technically, no, I have not slain or vanquished any evil. I made friends with all of my enemies,” admitted Twilight. “Please make your wishes.”

“Trixie still wants to learn more,” said Trixie. Suddenly, Twilight grinned deviously.

“Oh? Trixie wants to learn more?” asked Twilight. Trixie nodded. “So it would be accurate to say that Trixie desires more knowledge about my situation?” Again, Trixie nodded. “One could even say that you wish to know about what happened?”

“Yes! I wish to know what happened!” exclaimed Trixie.

“So you have wished it, so shall it be,” said Twilight. She pressed her hooves together over her head and wiggled her hips. Then she extravagantly crossed her hooves over her chest and gave a sort of nodding bow. A sound similar to the crack of a whip rang throughout the desert, and purple sparks exploded from behind her.

“I was playing chess with Discord when he decided that the game was too boring,” said Twilight. “How he was bored with our game of 12-dimensional chess, I will never fully understand. So we made a little wager. If I won, he would clean all of the toilets in the castle and deal with the next five Equestria-threatening events. If he won, I would become a genie until I fulfilled my duty of granting three wishes.”

“And so you tricked Trixie into wasting a wish on that story,” said Trixie. “How clever of you. Now—and this is not a wish, just a question—how long have you been in that lamp?”

“Good question,” said Twilight. “What day is it?”

“Er… Saturday, I think. July 12th?”

“Oh. I’ve been here six months.”

“Six months?! How could you have been away from Equestria for six whole months?!” demanded Trixie. Twilight shrugged her shoulders.

“Discord would never intentionally endanger Equestria anymore, so I have to assume he has things taken care of,” said Twilight. “Between him, Spike, and the girls, I’m sure they’re handling things quite well. This is actually a rather good test for Starlight. If she hasn’t gone mad with power and attempted to brainwash my subjects by the time I get back, I’ll know she’s ready for more advanced friendship lessons.” Twilight floated down to the ground, laying down on the hot sand. “Anyway, you have two more wishes. What is it that your heart desires?”

“Hm… Trixie is rather hungry,” said Trixie thoughtfully. “Okay, then. I wish—”

“Wait, stop! I kinda feel bad about wasting your wish earlier, so I’m gonna let you in on a secret,” said Twilight. “You have to word your wishes very, very carefully. Genies, or djinn, are actually a subspecies of trickster god. Our magic works in such a way that we have no choice but to exploit loopholes or give you the most literal version of your wish, depending on which would result in a more negative outcome for you.”

“So if I asked for you to make me hot, as in attractive…?” asked Trixie.

“A genie would set you on fire, though I would probably see if I could get away with giving you a high fever,” said Twilight grimly. “It’s not ideal. Somepony actually found my lamp before you, an earth pony who wished to fly. I had to turn him into a vulture.” Twilight shook the memory away. “My advice is that you go for something super specific, but also super simple. You’re hungry, so I would recommend wishing for a sandwich.”

“Ah, but if I worded it like that, you would give me a wicked witch covered in sand,” said Trixie. Twilight nodded, admitting to herself that she didn’t think of that. “So, what Trixie needs to do is specify exactly what kind of sandwich!” Trixie bit her lip in concentration for a moment, her eyes brightening with enlightenment. “Huzzah! I wish for a magic, perpetually-regenerating sandwich consisting of two slices of freshly baked Prench loaf bread, three daffodils, three daisies, a teaspoon of dijon mustard, and a slice of pepperjack cheese, a sandwich that will replenish itself after every bite.”

“I think you just inadvertently cured world hunger,” said Twilight. “But, the wish is good. So you have wished it, so shall it be.” She did her little dance, bowed her head, and a sandwich just as Trixie described appeared in front of Trixie in a burst of purple sparks and the crack of a whip. Just before it hit the sand, Twilight grabbed it up in her magical glow, then summoned a plate from nowhere to lower it onto.

“Don’t say I wasn’t a nice genie,” said Twilight. “Now, make your last wish so I can go and sleep in my own bed. I would recommend that you wish for some way to get home.” Trixie took a bite from her sandwich, watching with glee as the missing portion of her sandwiched returned.

“Alright, then. Trixie wishes she had a ride back to Ponyville,” said Trixie. Twilight winced, then pressed her hooves together over her head, wiggled her hips, crossed her hooves, and bowed. The sound of cracking snapped throughout the desert, purple sparks rained from nowhere, and a horseless chariot appeared in front of Trixie. It was big enough to hold Trixie if she folded herself up a bit, but its wheels sank several inches into the sand.

“Sorry, Trixie,” said Twilight. “Told you, genie magic isn’t great. Look, stay here for a few days, I’ll be back for you.” Twilight held her hooves over her head and wiggled her hips in a circular motion. “You know, you could’ve just wished for me to teleport you to the castle. Or you could’ve asked for three more wishes.”

“But genies always say that’s against the rules!” cried Trixie. Twilight shrugged.

“Genies have been bluffing for centuries. Sorry, Trixie.” Twilight bowed her head and vanished in a shockwave of purple light and sparks. Trixie tumbled backwards, her hoof kicking her plate and sending her everlasting sandwich to the floor. She looked down at her meal sadly.

“I should’ve wished for a table,” sighed Trixie.

Author's Note:

Hope you enjoyed this little fic. It took me only an hour or so to finish, which is a personal record of mine. Be sure to tell me what it is you like or dislike about the story so I may better my writing for you guys.

Thanks for reading!

Comments ( 20 )

:rainbowlaugh: I can so see Discord pulling something like this. Chaos magic sucks doesn't it?

Well... Twilight would be good like this. Genies are naughty, ain't them?

Eh... Not bad, but the last wish made for a rather 'meh' finale. Really think that one could have used a bit more 'oomph.'

I don't know, a mortified Rarity in a gimp outfit that won't come off, or something. :raritydespair:

7229763 I get the ending being sort of lackluster, but how exactly would I justify something like that? Cause that's pretty funny.

7229860

I get the ending being sort of lackluster, but how exactly would I justify something like that? Cause that's pretty funny.

Trixie's big mouth, plus the whole must twist the wish thing?

"But Trixie demands it must be the most fabulous ride she has ever laid eyes on!"

And well, since the rather fashion challenged Twilight only knows one saddle maker... :trollestia:

I get the ending being sort of lackluster, but how exactly would I justify something like that? Cause that's pretty funny.

You could always wish for the funniest possible thing.

7229870 Ah, damn, that would've been great. Oh well. Maybe in a sequel

Haha. This story was funny. If I wasn't emotionally, and physically d-e-d dead, I would write something funny like this.

Man being dead is really saddening.

7232763 I dunno, being dead could be way worse.

Amusing, but as previously noted, a bit dry. Have a thumb.

7229948 Bad idea to wish for the funniest possible thing without specifying any further. Very, very bad idea.

there's actually no way to word a wish that can't be replied in a convoluted way with "and then I teleport you to the surface of the sun"

7246946 That's not exactly how that works. A genie can't just add things to the wish. They just have to interpret it in the most literal possible way, or work out a loophole. That's not the same as adding clauses and subsections to a wish.

Quite clever, although I would have liked to see Trixie and Twilight discuss more about how she should make her wishes. Trixie being so shallow about her desires seems off to me. :trixieshiftright: Also, if I had the money, I would pay to see how 12-dimensional chess works. :twilightsheepish:

CCC

7240059

Bad idea, but I imagine that would be Pinkie's first, second, and third wishes.

Good stuff :pinkiesmile:

I liked the sandwich (it made me hungry), Twilight's genie dance, and the idea of Twilight playing 12-dimensional chess with Discord.

a cattle prod

That's racist.

If she hasn’t gone mad with power and attempted to brainwash my subjects by the time I get back, I’ll know she’s ready for more advanced friendship lessons.

Did you write this before or after Every Little Thing She Does? Because if it's before, how prophetic of you.

7690818 Quite a while before, actually. I'm ahead of my time.

I remember throwing a genie into my D&D campaign. Our ranger managed to wrangle a wish out of him. It was something like "I wish this bow shot truer and deadlier" or something like that... The genie managed to twist it around to getting a +2 against Good aligned characters and -2 against Evil.... The player was not happy.

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