Training Days
Somewhere far from Ponyville, ten ponies gathered in a darkened room.
Or, in another, more accurate way, ten ponies did not gather in a darkened room.
Because there wasn’t a room for them to gather in.
Their meeting place, such as it was, was the astral plane, a shared mindscape. No-pony was actually in any of the others’ mind, nor could they share thoughts. But they could talk.
“Thank you all for attending,” said the lead pony, a unicorn with their eyes glowing an unpleasant orange, a shade matched by everypony else present.
“Now, I have some news,” they said, “as a result of the last week’s developments, our timescale has moved up. To this summer.”
Several eyes went wide at that. There were a few cautious and concerned glances, but before anypony could speak, the head of the circle raised a hoof.
“With that in mind, I’d like to wrap up a specific loose end before then. Have we had any luck in locating Star?”
“Nope,” said a bored-looking pegasus mare, adorned with a set of goggles resting on her forehead, who was slouching in her seat. “It’s been three years, still no sign of her.”
The head of the circle frowned. “That’s not good.”
“Hate to break it to you, but Equestria’s a big country, boss pony. Even a bookworm like her could hide anywhere. And that’s assuming she’s even in Equestria anymore.”
There was a sigh. “Yes, thank you, Indigo.”
After a moment’s contemplation, the unicorn looked up again. “Orange?”
“Yuh-huh?” An earth pony mare asked.
“Get in contact with those two friends of yours. See if they can’t have any luck finding Star for us.”
“Oh…” groaned the unicorn next to the head, “not those two. Can’t we use somepony more… I dunno, competent?”
“They have proven useful before,” the head said, “unless, of course, you’d like to go after her yourself, Frolic?”
The unicorn colt jolted, and then shook his head. This elicited an unfriendly smile from the leader.
“Good. And it is their attributes that make them ideal for finding our wayward friend.”
“Y’ mean you’re gonna set them loose and hope they just randomly run into her.” Orange remarked, dryly, in the unmistakable accent of a Neigh Yorker.
“Essentially, yes.”
“Just… you know, pointing this out,” Orange said, carefully, “she hasn’t shown up in three years, we haven’t heard a word from her, she hasn’t tried to get back touch with her mom and pops… maybe she’s dead?”
There was a lengthy pause as the unicorn considered this. “No,” they finally said, “no… I don’t think so.”
“Sard,” they then said, turning to address another member of the group, a Crystal Pony stallion, indeed the only Crystal Pony there at all. “What is the status on the pillars?”
“Well…” Sard began, “we’ve got three so far. Technically we’ve got two, number three is still in the works.”
“That’s... less than ideal.”
Sard shrugged. “You were pretty specific about what kind of crystal we needed. Those take time to find, and even longer to prepare.I thought that was why we were going to wait until we had six.”
“Plans change,” was all the response he got. Sard frowned.
“With three pillars so far, I can’t guarantee we’d be able to hold them completely. If we had, oh, say, four, I’d be slightly more confident. But if you want it done by summer… three’s all we’re going to have.”
“It’ll have to do,” the unicorn replied, curtly.
“For the record,” Sard stressed, “with three pillars, if one goes down… there’ll be a high chance of containment failure. And then...”
A grim silence settled over the room. “Noted. Now, onto the business of the last week, the information we acquired from Twilight Sparkle has proven invaluable, though, yes, the effort didn’t go as we anticipated.”
“You mean we screwed up completely and nearly got Wedge half killed?” a tall unicorn mare asked. It wasn’t exactly difficult to notice the anger in her voice. “How is he, by the way?”
“Alive. Recovering, but… it may be some time before he awakens. If he awakens at all. This is not to say the experiment’s fruits have not yielded unexpected results.”
“Talking about that alicorn kid, right?” Orange spoke up.
“Yes, the child. Who is now within our sphere of influence, though with some… cost.”
“Like the fact I’m out one boss, thanks to the last week.” Another earth pony mare said, “which, incidentally, is going to make things incredibly chaotic, so I wouldn’t go counting on me being much use until everything’s sorted out.”
“Yes, Merry,” the lead unicorn sighed. “We are aware that your boss’s sudden termination has made life difficult at the castle.”
Merry Melody just scowled in her seat and rolled her eyes.
“But the sacrifice was worth it to gain influence over the foal.” The pony said, reassuringly. “Even at the cost of access to Canterlot castle.”
“Not to mention likely pissing off Trixie,” another pegasus mare said. “And Princess Luna. And probably Vicereine Twilight Velvet. And her husband, and her son.”
“Indeed,” the unicorn responded. Then their eye turned to another part of the circle, specifically the tall unicorn mare who been utterly silent so far, focused as she was on her own thoughts.
“Fleur… you don’t seem taken all this. Do you have some reservations?”
“Yes,” the mare replied, icily. “I have. I don’t think we should’ve interfered. It might have been better to let the foal go to somepony else. Somepony capable of actually raising a foal.”
She paused for a moment, “I also don’t think we should have let Midnight anywhere near Ponyville, or Trixie herself for that matter. They’re going to be watching her, and if they find out about her being the ch-”
“They won’t.” came the confident reply. “And even if they did suspect, they will not believe it. Nor would anyone believe them.”
“It’s a risk,” Fleur said. “And a dangerous one. What if something happens? If Thesis becomes uncontrollable?”
“You’re the one here who’s spent the most time with her,” the head replied, “do you think that’s a possibility?”
“Honestly?” Fleur shrugged. “There was something off about her. But I just presumed it’s because she was less than a week old.”
“Maybe when the ritual went wrong, a bit of Wedge wound up in the mix?” An earth pony stallion commented. “The boy always was a little funny about his hurricanes.”
Fleur shook her head. “No, no, I don’t think so. I think this is all a tremendous risk. And it’s going to bite us all in the flank.”
“Also noted,” the pony said, dryly. “Now, in light of the advanced timescale, we have a limited window of opportunity to act. It’s time to start stacking the deck… first off, we’re going to need someone to talk to Celestia...”
Thesis woke, yawned and dragged herself out of her bed. She had been unwilling to get up, as warm and cosy as the bed was, and would have much rather just stayed there forever.
Then she looked out of the window, and saw it.
The “it” in this case was the snow. Snow as far as the eye could see (which, in fairness, wasn’t very far). Snow covering houses, and the streets and trees.
With a glad cry, Thesis rushed out of her room and along the landing, down the stairs at toward the door.
“And where are we going?” a voice asked, just as she was reaching for the handle. She turned to see Midnight sitting on one of the sofas, eating an orange.
“Outside?” Thesis ventured, “to play in the snow?”
Midnight stared at her for several minutes. There was something off about her. She was breathing in and out a lot, like she’d just been doing a lot of running.
“Alright,” she eventually declared. “And here I thought you wanted to learn magic today?”
“Yeah…” Thesis said, carefully.
“Well, then…” Midnight said, pausing to eat a slice of orange, “have some breakfast first.”
She blinked, as the words sunk in, then grinned. “You’re really going to teach me?”
“I did say, did I not? But only if you have something to eat.”
She didn’t need to be told twice.
A few minutes later the two were walking through Ponyville. More or less, at any rate, Thesis kept stopping to listen to the sound of the snow underneath her hooves, occasionally experimenting by jumping up and down on it to see what happened, or watching her breath evaporate in the cold with awe.
“Is it always like this?” she asked. Midnight stared down at her.
“The snow, or the town?”
Thesis looked about. There were a lot less other ponies about than there had been in Canterlot (also, it smelled nicer, if a pony liked apples. Thesis wasn’t sure she did, but she was sure it smelled nicer than coffee). She recalled the day she’d been to Canterlot, there had been other ponies, about her age, playing in the snow. And yet, as she looked about, there were none. Not even a one. Just her, Midnight, and the surprisingly pink umbrella the mare was carrying (“in case it rains”, the mare had said, when there wasn’t so much as a whiff of cloud in the sky).
“Both?” she eventually decided.
“Yes, to the first. As to the second, it is a weekday. Most of the ponies of this town will be inside, at work or at school. I can only guess as to what force of personality their teachers must be that there is not a single foal loose.”
With that, she turned and continued walking along. After a few seconds Thesis scurried after her.
The two walked past house after house, until the buildings began to thin out completely. Soon they arrived at a patch of snow some distance from the town, indistinguishable save for a rock. Midnight looked about, and whatever it was she was looking for she seemed satisfied.
There was a flash, and a pop, and an apple appeared in the air, held aloft by her magic.
“What’s that for?” Thesis asked. Without a word in response, Midnight walked over to the rock and placed it on top of it.
“Magic,” the mare said, as she walked back to Thesis. “There is much that can be said on the subject of magic. But magic is, at its heart, taking a thought and making it a reality.”
She motioned at the apple. “I could talk of the differing nature of magic, the varied schools and systems, the mechanics of it, but this is not a written test. What we are determining here is whether you can perform one simple spell, the most ubiquitous of all: Telekinesis. I want you to move that apple, without touching it.”
There was a moment of silence, the only sound was the breeze rustling through some nearby trees.
“Okay…” Thesis murmured, “how, exactly?”
“Only you can determine that, little one. There is no one “true” way to do it. Some imagine creating colours, some may think of a particular flavour of food, some visualise pushing the magic through their horn. Ultimately, each has their own method.”
“Uh…” the filly began, “I meant how do I lift it?”
“You should start by focusing on the apple. Picture it in your mind’s eye-”
“My what?”
“... your mind,” the mare said, “then try to imagining you are holding the apple with your mind.”
Thesis looked at her, and then at the apple, then back again. “Will that work?”
“We won’t know until you try.”
“But… what if it doesn’t?” she asked.
“Little one…” the mare said, carefully, “Every unicorn, alicorn and hybrid with a functioning horn has managed to learn this spell. It’s one of the easiest to master. I do not expect you to grasp it immediately, but that is no reason not to try at all. Both Trixie Lulamoon and Twilight Sparkle are prodigious casters. If you have even a fraction of their abilities, this will be easy enough.”
“‘Kay.” Thesis said, though she didn’t feel at all convinced.
She looked at the apple, a small dot of red and yellow surrounded by greys and brown and white.
“In your own time,” Midnight stated.
She stared at the apple, focusing on it with all the energy she could muster. She closed her eyes, focusing. In her mind, there was the apple. She tried, as Midnight had said to focus on it, imagined somehow picking it up without touching it.
She tried remembering the words she’d read in those books, about pushing magic through the thauma and the alveo, to make the magic.
Nothing happened.
She looked at the apple, sitting there, perfectly immobile. She closed her eyes and tried again.
For several seconds, nothing continued happening, as she tried everything she could think of. She even tried thinking of flavours, or colours, seeing whether that sparked anything.
It didn’t.
She glared at the fruit, as it sat there, not moving in the slightest. Now, she was getting annoyed. More than annoyed, actually. Angry. She’d been expecting it to be as easy as everypony else made it looked, like she would just cast the magic and that would be that. Only her stupid horn wasn’t doing the things it was supposed to be doing. Moving one stupid dumb apple from a stupid dumb rock.
She wanted to go over and just smash the thing, teach it not to move when it was supposed to.
So she was a little surprised by the tingling feeling, the light from her horn, followed by the apple wobbling, then unsteadily hovering a foot or so off the ground.
It took a moment for her to notice, her anger vanishing almost as quickly as it had come when she saw it, floating there in her magic.
“I did it!” she squeaked, “I did it! Sis, look, I did it.”
“I see it,” the mare said, though she didn’t have any sort of different expression on her face. Not that even that small disappointment did anything to Thesis’ joy. She was casting magic.
That was when something unexpected happened. Or rather, two somethings. The first involved the apple itself, which was being held by a small foal casting her first ever spell, and who, even with all the textbook knowledge she had acquired, did not yet understand all the fine details of holding something, the proper means of holding it. There was an incredible amount of pressure being placed on the unfortunate apple, which would either crush it, or send it flying (and in accordance with certain universal rules, likely either at Thesis’ head or Midnight’s).
Crushing was what won out, with one half of the apple smashing clean through the other.
Compared to what happened at the same time, though, that was nothing.
The ground beneath the apple suddenly burst upward, crushing whatever was left of the fruit at that point, sending dirt and ice and small tiny bits of stone flying everywhere.
“Uh…” Thesis eventually got out as she looked at the small area of devastation, “I didn’t do that…”
“I expected as much, or at least something along these lines,” she heard Midnight say. She turned to look at the mare, who was shaking bits of snow and dirt off the umbrella.
“Overcasting,” the mare said, as if this explained everything. “Magic runs deeply in the House Twilight. Both Sparkle and her brother, Shining Armor are exceptionally powerful unicorns. By extension, any foals they might have would likely be as powerful, if not more. But this comes with its own problem. It is possible to put too much energy or effort into casting a spell, as you inadvertently did. With most unicorns, the result is the object being held suffering damage. In your case, likely connected to your evident alicorn nature, the results…” she eyed the small pile of dirt, “are slightly more dramatic.”
There was a moment’s silence.
“So…” Thesis asked, “I can cast magic, but it’ll break everything if I do?”
“It is nothing to truly be concerned about, little one. This was your first spell. No-one expects a musician to play flawlessly the first time they pick up an instrument.”
As she spoke, Midnight leaned down next to her.
“Shall I tell you something? When I was your size, I had much the same problem. I could not lift anything larger than a book without causing havoc, and… some property damage.”
Thesis looked up at the mare. “How’d you deal with it?” she asked.
The mare paused for a long while. “Practice, mostly. And some assistance.”
“Oh.” Thesis declared, “so…”
“So, you have managed to successfully cast one spell,” the mare said. “How did it feel?”
“I…” Thesis began. She wanted to say it had felt incredible. She wanted to say it had been the greatest thing in her life (all eight days of it). How she felt almost like she could’ve done anything. Then she remembered the anger. “I felt angry. I was just so upset, because I couldn’t move it and it wasn’t working… and then it just… happened.”
Midnight nodded at this. “I see,” she murmured.
“I don’t like it,” Thesis muttered. “I don’t want to be angry. And I don’t want to be angry to do magic.”
“No,” Midnight said. “Do you recall how it felt to cast the magic itself?”
“I… I think so. Why?”
There was a flash, and a pop, and another apple appeared, grasped in her sister’s magic.
“Let’s try again, shall we?”
Time passed, as her sister tried teaching Thesis how to cast magic. The results were often still as destructive, on more than one occasion even moreso, though actually casting the spell seemed easy enough. It was just getting it to work properly that was proving difficult. But after several not-so-successful attempts, she was pretty sure she’d managed to get the basics down.
Then there was the matter of lifting the apple, which proved easy enough. Keeping the apple from being torn to pieces, less so. For some reason, it was near-impossible to keep a hold on it, and it was possible, just a little bit, that she was beginning to get angry after one destroyed fruit too many. Still, her sister assured her there were a lot more apples left.
Soon, though, she found her horn was beginning to hurt. Beginning to really hurt. Really, really hurt, and after that she couldn’t even make the apple wobble even slightly.
“I think, perhaps,” Midnight stated, on seeing this, “that’s enough for now. You need to let your magic return.”
“I can keep going,” she said, determinedly.
“Of that, I have no doubt. But your reserve of magic cannot. As you grow, and become more experienced with magic, your reserves will grow, but for the moment, little one, you can only push yourself so far.”
The mare lifted up the apple, and after a few seconds of cursory examination began eating it. “Besides, you have made tremendous progress today.”
Thesis smiled weakly at that. She didn’t exactly feel like she’d made much progress
“Now,” Midnight said, as she finished devouring the snack, “let’s see about rewarding that success with some lunch.”
Finding somewhere to easy proved easy enough, and Thesis did like being out of the cold (even the scarf could only do so much to keep all of her warm).
She wasn’t absolutely sure about the food she was eating. It just felt like it was missing something. A certain something she couldn’t put her hoof on. Not even covering it with mustard was helping.
It wasn’t the only thing bothering her. Her sister seemed bothered. At least, she presumed that was why the mare wasn’t saying anything.
“Is everything alright?” she eventually asked.
“Yes, yes,” Midnight replied, albeit distantly, “I was just preoccupied.”
Thesis felt an odd tug in her at that. Was she disappointed with the way her magic had come out? She hadn’t said anything at the time, but now Thesis thought about it… she hadn’t done terribly well, getting angry, breaking things, barely being able to cast the easiest spell ever...
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.
“It’s not because of you, little one, I am merely pondering a conundrum.”
“Oh,” Thesis said. “What is it?”
“I made an obligation before coming to Ponyville, one that is still in effect. It means that in the weeks before Hearth’s Warming, I will need to leave. The conundrum is what to do with you.”
“Can’t I come with you?” she asked.
“No,” Midnight said instantly. “And therein lies the problem. The only pony I know in this town is Lulamoon, and the events of the last week have soured her to me completely.”
Thesis took the words in. She couldn’t imagine it, Miss Trixie being actually angry at somepony, when she’d been so nice to her.
“The trouble with these ponies is that they really hold a grudge,” she heard Midnight say darkly.
“What if I asked her for you?” Thesis suggested.
“That would be incredibly manipulative,” Midnight said. Thesis hung her head.
“Sorry.”
“But it might be worth an attempt.” The mare’s eyes moved to her meal. “Now, finish your hayfries.”
“‘Kay,” Thesis began eating again. After a few seconds, a question occurred to her. “So, what are we going to do tomorrow?”
“More magic practice. That will likely be the theme for the week, unless you wish to experience school.”
Thesis frowned at that. “Didn’t you say it might be bad for me?”
“In Canterlot, yes. Ponyville is not Canterlot. The ponies here are more accustomed to strange occurrences, and are less likely to take issue or exception to your unusual appearance.”
She nodded at this. That sounded like it made sense. “So what’s school like?”
“The answer is much the same as it was for magic, it is different for everypony. Whether excruciatingly dull or enrapturing, that would be for you to determine. I cannot say, for it might influence your own choice.”
“Oh.” Was all she could say to that.
Pokey Pierce liked to think he was observant, or at least that he had a small knack for noticing things.
He knew, for example, something was definitely up with Trixie. She’d been in an odd mood all week, in a way he couldn’t put down to Carrot Top’s birthday, or that thing with the Windigo the Element Bearers had dealt with, but now…
Trixie wasn’t one for doing work. Often there were times she’d suggest (flippantly, usually) burning down the entire residency rather than stamping another form. Often she’d get distracted by some idea or calamity and just let the stuff pile up. She’d moan, she’d complain, she’d whine. Although in all fairness to her, she was getting a lot better. Mostly.
But today, there was something new. Trixie was angry about something. Really angry. So angry Pokey was a little surprised nothing actually was on fire.
After a few hours of angry glowering, the occasional muttered thing in prench Pokey couldn’t understand (beyond a few cursory words he’d picked up over the last year), and the odd moment of grousing, he felt brave enough to risk asking what was up.
“Uh,” he began cautiously, Trixie turning and giving him a Look which by all rights should’ve been able to knock down walls, “is everything… alright, boss?”
“Oh,” Trixie said, with an eerie calm to her that made all of Pokey’s fur stand on edge, “I’m fine. Just absolutely fine and dandy.”
“No, you’re not,” Pokey replied, before he could stop himself. With that, Trixie seemed to sag into her seat.
“No, you’re right, I’m not, I just... “ she growled, then fell silent. “Pokey, I’ve got a question.”
“Uh, shoot?”
“Imagine, hypothetically, if you knew somepony, for years. Maybe you didn’t know them that great, and it’d been a long time since you’d seen them, and you weren’t really “friends” with them as such. But you figured you knew where they stood.”
Pokey stared blankly. He weighed his options and figured it was best to just let Trixie keep going.
“Now imagine they go and stab you in the back, but without the decency to do it to your face.”
“Uh…” Pokey tilted his head, “isn’t that sort of how all backstabbing works? I mean, I’m not familiar with backstabbing so I couldn’t say, but the back does seem to be an important part of it.”
“Not the point!” Trixie exclaimed. “And this stupid pony went and did something even Princess Luna can’t work around, not without it taking months (or so she says). And now she’s here! In Ponyville, pretty much rubbing my face in what she’s done!”
Trixie muttered something incredibly angry under her breath, which sounded an awful lot like she was questioning the pony’s heritage.
“And do you know what the most annoying thing is?” Trixie asked.
“You can’t punch her in the face?” Pokey ventured.
She waved a hoof dismissively. “No, I already did that. Wasn’t as satisfying as I’d hoped. The worst part is that she’s not being all smug about it. Instead she’s acting all confused, like she doesn’t even know why she’s doing it.”
She scowled furiously, “for all I know, somepony could be making her do it. If, IF she was just being an ass about all this, maybe I could get some satisfaction out of hating her.”
“And I keep telling myself to not get worked up about all this, only to go and get worked up about it anyway!” she groaned, thumping her head against the table. “I jus’ wanna get on with work and not think about it all forever!”
Pokey frowned. Emotional advice, particularly when he wasn’t even actually sure of what Trixie was talking about, was something beyond his job description.
“Sorry,” Trixie eventually said, “I shouldn’t be angry at you, Pokey. I’m not angry at you, I’m just… angry.”
“That’s okay,” Pokey said, smiling gently, “though… if you wanted to make it up to me, you could give me a raise...”
Despite her sour mood, Trixie grinned. “No chance in Tartaros, mister.”
“Always worth a try.” Pokey grinned back.
The next several days passed much the same for Thesis. She would wake up, have breakfast, and then she and her sister would head out to one of the fields around Ponyville to practice magic.
It went slowly. On the second day, she once again had problems casting magic, until she got annoyed about it. Actually getting the spell to work proved more difficult, and turned out to require a lot of attention. More than a few apples wound up getting smashed to pieces, or crushed by rocks and ice and snow, but Midnight insisted it was all part of the learning process.
At one point she’d suggested asking Miss Trixie or Miss Twilight for help. Midnight had gone all silent and said “no”. That had been unusual, but not so much that she felt it worth asking why. Her sister probably knew what she was doing.
After a few days, when she was pretty sure she’d gotten telekinesis… mostly right, the two moved on to moving the apple back and forth between them.
Thesis didn’t say anything, but she had been expecting maybe moving onto more… exciting spellwork. She wasn’t sure what that was, but she was darn sure she was getting a little tired of apples, squished or otherwise.
“So… wait,” Trixie frowned, as she stared down at the latest piece of soulless bureaucracy to pass across her desk, “hold on…”
A few small details on it weren’t adding up. She looked over to her “out” tray, flipped through it and pulled out one of the previous pieces. She scanned it, then it became clear what had gone wrong.
“Great…” she sighed.
The last few days had been getting, frankly, somewhat boring. There’d been no attack by anything, no threat to Equestria had emerged. She’d even been considering taking up talking with Pinkie Pie to see about finding something to do to relieve the monotony. So naturally, her brain was starting to turn to sludge with all the work, day-in, day-out.
There was a knock on her front door. Trixie got up and walked over towards it and opened the door.
And because apparently some force out there clearly felt her life didn’t have enough problems, standing there was one of the last ponies she wanted to see (a long list, at the top of which, surprisingly, was not Corona herself. She probably only rated somewhere about halfway).
“Lulamoon.”
“You,” Trixie hissed, glaring furiously at the mare. “What do you want?”
“I have a request to make of you.” It might have been Trixie's imagination, but something seemed off about the pony. Not enough for Trixie to care, though.
“What?”
“For a variety of reasons, I will be required to leave Ponyville for a period of time. In that time, I would ask that you look after Thesis.”
Trixie blinked, taking the words in, going over them carefully. “Say that again.”
“I would ask if you could look after her.”
Trixie’s expression, matching her mood, grew darker, as the anger she’d been burying for several days returned. “You want me to look after her. You stole her, refuse to give her back, and now you’re trying to get me to look after her because you can’t?”
“You make her sound like somepony’s property,” Midnight replied, “and no. I’m asking you to look after her because…”
“Because what?” Trixie snapped, “this should be great. What reason do you have, when I was apparently such a risk in the first place that you just couldn’t let her live with me?”
“Because I do not know anypony else in this town.” Midnight said.
Trixie stood there, glowering, ignoring the fact leaving her door open was letting precious heat out of her residency and worse, horrific cold in. She also tried to ignore the urge to try and punch the mare again.
“Lulamoon, I understand you’re furious at my actions.” Trixie scoffed at that.
“Do you?” she asked, “because I don’t think you do."
“I am not asking you do this as some favour to me. I make no pretense that my actions were harmful, but... “ the mare seemed to hesitate, “she does require somewhere to stay.”
Trixie glared at the mare for several seconds. “Fine,” she spat, “I’ll do it for Thesis. And only because she needs it. As far as I’m concerned, you can go to the sun and stay there. Anything else you want?”
“N-” the mare began, at which point Trixie slammed the door shut. Once done, she gave herself a small, satisfied nod at her work.
“But why do you have to go?” Thesis asked, as she finished putting her stuff in the small saddlebag.
“Obligation,” Midnight said, curtly.
“Will you be gone long?”
The mare stopped what she was doing. “I will likely be back some time in the new year.”
Thesis murmured at that. She didn’t like any of this. Not that she didn’t want to see Miss Trixie again, far from it. She just didn’t want her sister to leave. She didn’t like that.
“I will be back, little one. That you can be assured of. Until then, I wish for you to do something for me.”
She looked up at the mare’s eyes. “What?”
“Listen to Lulamoon, but do not take anything she says at face value, especially if it is about herself. Behave. Be smart. Be strong. And if you are made to go to school, it is highly likely you will meet somepony of constant exuberance.”
The mare paused for a moment. “Learn to dislike her. I would recommend you start by getting to know her.”
Thesis stared blankly for several seconds. “... okay?” she finally managed to get out.
With that, the two tried slipping the small pair of saddlebags on, and then set off towards Trixie’s residency, through the half-melted snow.
“Well, hello there, ma petite fille,” Trixie exclaimed on seeing Thesis, who just smiled earnestly back at her, as she entered the residence.
“Hi, Miss Trixie.” Trixie just raised a hoof.
“You don’t need to call me “miss”. Just call me Trixie.”
The foal frowned for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, Mi-... Trixie.”
Trixie’s grin changed slightly, if only because part of her was pointing out how bizarre the situation was. And also, maybe, because she was looking at her.
“Hope you have fun,” Trixie said, with all the feigned politeness she could muster.
“That is unlikely,” Midnight replied. Trixie rolled her eyes.
"Right. I forgot you hate fun in all its forms."
The two stood there, Trixie scowling intently.
“Be seeing you, Lulamoon.” The mare turned, and left.
Once she was gone, Trixie felt her anger evaporate, as she turned and went to look for Thesis, whom she soon found examining her living room.
Despite everything, Trixie felt a good feeling about things. She made a vow, then and there, that she and Thesis were going to have the time of their lives, and nothing was going to stop that. Not even the usual Ponyville craziness could kill her good mood.
Fire.
Smoke.
Burning.
Something was burning. But where? And how?
His head hurt. His everything hurt, but his head, it seemed, was hurting most of all. Why was that?
“Hey…” a voice, a feminine one if he was any judge, called out from behind him. “Look, he’s awake.”
There was a hum from somewhere else, this sounded more masculine.
“You know what? I do believe you’re right.” The voice’s owner sounded amused. “I’d assumed after what you two had done that… well, that was that.”
He blinked furiously, trying to will the headache away, but to no luck, as a large black shape hoved into view.
Only it wasn’t a shape, it was a pony. A pony with entirely black fur wearing some sort of black cloak. The only part of them that wasn’t black were the eyes, and their teeth, which were on full display as the pony smiled an insincere smile.
“Good evening, Duke Greengrass.” The pony said, not unkindly. “I do apologise for your injuries, but my… ah, my associates, Miss. Kicker and Miss. Zap were… well, they have issues with nobles, and unfortunately couldn’t contain themselves.”
“Sure, give him our names, why don’cha?” Another voice said, from behind him, dryly.
Greengrass wasn’t entirely listening, and not just because of the pounding in his head. Now he was beginning to remember. He’d been in his estate, minding his own business, not even plotting anything in particular. And then there had been several unfriendly looking ponies present who’d not been at all swayed by either his good looks or his charm. After that it was all an unpleasant blur.
As to how they got in there, he wasn’t sure. He was supposed to have some of the best magical security his money (and the odd bit of persuasion) could buy.
“Who…” Greengrass struggled to say. His mouth hurt too, and it felt incredible dry, “who are you?”
“That would be telling,” the pony said. Greengrass frowned, and tried getting to his hooves. There was a flash of pain on his backside, one of the ponies hitting him.
“I’d stay down if I were you, bud.” Came an unfriendly growl.
“You’re not sun cultists, are you?” Greengrass asked, trying as best he could to ignore the haze of pain.
“No,” the pony said. “We’re not affiliated with Celestia. Nor are we a cult. Cult would imply worship. We don’t worship anyone.”
“So you just happen to dress alike.” Greengrass groaned.
“For the purposes of maintain anonymity, along with presenting an iconographic image of unity, strength and mystique.”
“Is that it?” came one of the voices from behind, “thought we were doin’ it to look scary.”
Greengrass stared at the pony, and their oddly shaped eyes, the very distinctive eyes of a Crystal Pony.
“Who’s in charge here?” he asked.
“I am,” the pony said. Greengrass tried, as best as he could, to look skeptical.
“No, you’re not. Don’t bother lying, I’m a noble. I know a lie and a liar when I see one. I’ve been surrounded by them all my life.”
The pony’s expression shifted, the fake smile disappeared.
“I know you’re not in charge, and whatever purpose you have for being here, I don’t care. I’ll only talk to the pony in charge.”
The pony seemed hesitant. “With… well, I’d say “with respect”, but with all honesty, Greengrass, you don’t want that.”
“I insist.”
The pony stood up straight, looking at something behind Greengrass. “He insists.” The pony repeated.
“If he insists…” said the voice he presumed was Zap. The Crystal Pony took one last look at Greengrass, which he could’ve sworn was one of concern, and moved away.
This, incidentally, gave Greengrass a good view of the windows of the room he was in, along with two other ponies (both just as black as the other) examining something and talking, completely unfazed by the fire visible through the window.
Then his eyes were drawn to the floor. There was a noise. A faint crackling.
A small circle of flame appeared, then shot up into the air, a pillar of bright orange fire, a roaring inferno he could feel even from some distance. The heat and light faded to reveal another pony.
At this point, Greengrass was not surprised to find they also wore black.
They were a unicorn, taller than most, their eyes glowing an unpleasant shade of orange. They affixed on Greengrass, and then there was an unpleasant look on their face.
“Ah, Duke Greengrass,” the pony said, in an unmistakable male baritone. “I do hope my ponies haven’t been treating you… too roughly.”
“I take it you’re the pony in charge,” Greengrass said.
“Indeed I am,” the stallion replied, “and, first off, Duke, I do want to say, contrary to Kicker and Zap’s indications otherwise, there’s nothing personal in this.”
“Oh,” Greengrass shrugged, “of course not.”
“There isn’t,” the pony repeated, “you did exemplary work with that Opelick mess. It’s very satisfying to watch someone give those changelings a kick in the face. And I have to say, and this... “ they placed a hoof over their chest, “this is from the heart, I do admire the way you called Luna a useless cow.”
Were he at full strength, Greengrass would have disagreed. That particular phrase had just been the beginning of the total destruction of his political ambitions. It had cost him whatever standing he’d had with the Princess, and the court, and made him a disgrace.
And what was that the pony had said about changelings?
“I admire that, I really do,” the pony continued. “And we’re not… from a certain point of view, at any rate, so different. Like you, I enjoy gardening. Though my garden, such as it is, is a bit more, shall we say “lifeless”? Like you, I also wish to remove Luna from power, render her authority useless. I am just a little bit more… aggressive, in my approach. And… there is another reason.”
The pony’s expression darkened (figuratively speaking) as they continued, “you see, your methodology… manipulation, double-crossing, blackmail… you weren’t even subtle about it. You outright admitted to Trixie Lulamoon you were trying to manipulate her. It’s very frustrating.”
The pony paused, for a moment, looking about the room. “Now, I suppose you might be wondering who are we? Why are we here? How’d they get past all that security you’re supposed to have? Since I’m feeling benevolent, I’ll tell you how we managed it: Your, ah, friend Notary gave up the information on your security. Well, I say “gave”.”
At this, Greengrass felt a sudden flare of anger. He tried leaping up at the pony. “Where’s Notary? What did you do to her? If you’ve hurt her, I-”
Then there was a sensation of pain all over his body, and he collapsed. “I wouldn’t worry about your former henchpony. I’d worry more about yourself.”
The pony leaned in toward Greengrass. “You see, the purpose of our little visit here is to deal with you. Nothing personal, you understand, it’s just… let me put this in words you’ll understand. You described the Night Court as a “game”. You believed yourself one of the players. Well, as it turns out, in this case, some of us play bigger games, and for greater stakes. And in this game, my dear Duke… you were never even a player.”
Greengrass stared at the pony. Something about them was familiar. If he could only just figure it out. “So, if I’m not a player, what am I?”
“A wild card, Duke. One that needs to be removed from the deck altogether.”
Greengrass glowered as best he was able at the pony. “So, you’re going to kill me?”
“Well,” the pony frowned, “I’m not certain. You’re a smug, self-focused little turd of a pony, driven by ambition and greed. And I do, somewhat, admire that. Not as much as I admired Puissance, the mad evil old bat. It’d be like destroying a priceless antique vase.”
As if on cue there was a loud smash from nearby, followed shortly by a just-loud-enough “oops” from somepony.
Greengrass turned to look back at the pony,who seemed to be willfully ignoring what had just happened. As he did, something started to click. He liked to pride himself on his attention to detail, which was a basic requirement of surviving Equestrian politics, and now several details were beginning to emerge through the haze of pain.
“You know,” he groaned, “I think… I think I recognise you.”
The pony didn’t look alarmed, which he felt was a shame.
“Professor Spell Nexus, isn’t it?”
The pony’s expression changed. Now, instead of the false geniality, he was looking at Greengrass like he was something unpleasant that he’d trodden on by accident.
“Oh, Greengrass,” he sighed, “that was tremendously stupid. If you’d just… kept quiet…” he sighed, “now we’re going to have to do a lot more than just burn your house down…”
The pony’s horn lit up, and suddenly Greengrass felt it, like something was draining the very strength out of him…
And then everything went dark.
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Why did you make chapter five so long?
7930977
Entirely by accident, believe it or not.
Ooh, could Greengrass die, here? It's not even my birthday! :D
Also, hatred of Midnight, increasing.
8538277
Death?
How reductive. How small an idea.
No... his fate is far crueller...
And funnier.
8538277
Death?
How reductive. How small an idea.
No... his fate is far crueller...
And funnier.