Prologue - A Mare's Legacy
Trixie sighed, the smooth quill slipping out of her magical grasp and clicking down onto the table. A setting sun bathed the room in a fiery glow as a tired mare stretched herself out. She stared at the thin book that lay before her and brushed her mane back as she inspected her untitled work. When she flipped the book open, the words flowed by in page after page of sweeping text, eventually coming to an abrupt halt. With a small smile, she ran a hoof over the binding, thick leather firm to the hoof and warm from laying in the sun that fell on it while it rested on the desk. Trixie recalled the time she had spent researching bookmaking. The process took days, starting with an unscheduled trip to Canterlot and ending with the arduous task of binding a book together, a deceptively simple task that had cramped Trixie’s hooves and had resulted in several books being burned for their immense lack of quality. Trixie can master whatever she pleases, no matter the time required. She glanced around the somewhat dingy shack, taking in the noticeably stained walls and the dulled paint hiding behind weeks of inattention. With a huff, she fed a small stream of power to her horn, recasting the sun’s amber light in her horn’s lilac and setting various cleaning tools scattered about into motion, from brooms and mops to dusters and sponges. Slowly, layer after layer of built up dust and grime fell away until the walls gleamed with a “brand-new” shine. It’s at least possible to leave the place looking like a well-to-do abandoned shack.
Trixie opened a small cupboard off in the corner of the room, sweeping out the cobwebs and scouring away the lack of cleaning. Inside, her eyes traveled across everything stored there, eventually deciding on a few firmly sealed jars containing small amounts of flowers and vegetables.
“For a last meal, it’s not really that extravagant. Trixie will bear with it, though, given that she cannot truly afford to go out with a culinary bang.” After the somewhat bland meal, interlaced with a small amount of grit that somehow managed to worm its way into the jars despite them being supposedly airtight, Trixie paced over to her bed, hooves rapping against the hardwood clock ticking away her time left there with every step.
With the lithe grace of a snake, Trixie slipped out of her bed. Her horn ignited, bringing in a cold light that guided her way over to the thin book. Magic coaxed it into motion, bringing it to a rest in her saddlebags already decently stocked with a few supplies. Wooden floor turned into dirt under her hooves as she set out, the brisk night air filling her lungs and nostrils with the sweet scent of moongrass. Giving a single glance back toward what had served as her temporary home, Trixie slithered off into the night, leaving naught but a few hoofprints as memoir of her passing. As the air glazed over her coat, Trixie’s horn glowed a strange, deep blue and runes crawled and twisted through the air around her and the book. Slowly, the original ink inside slipped around and picked up ancient magic—illusions and incantations of ages past that would have done the world good to stay there.
Up in the distance, the Ponyville library lay dark, the lights of a long night’s study hushed by the deepest part of the early morning darkness. The immense structure sighed slightly with every twitch of the breeze, leaves rustling ever so slightly and the occasional shift of an owl in the darkness. With a casual step and a shift into subtlety, Trixie approached the darkened tree, cloaked by the new moon and some of her own illusionary magic. The only breath on the landscape came when the book softly fell to the ground and kicked up a tiny bit of dust in front of the door, plainly in sight of anyone opening it come sunrise.
The most important part of her plan now complete, Trixie sauntered off into the center of Ponyville, remembering how easily she humiliated all three of the ponies that decided to try their hand at challenging her. She paused momentarily when she remembered Twilight Sparkle, and how the dastardly mare passed herself off as completely unextraordinary, only to somehow defeat that Ursa Minor! How does she not show off her magic to the world? It’s clearly worth it, based on how the town reacted to that display. Either way, Trixie saved that book just for her. Trixie thinks that she’s going to enjoy reading it very much. A grin grew across her face as she continued her visit.
Trixie briefly stopped when she approached the town square, stars silently twinkling above and offering the dim shades of gray definition that barely glinted off the central fountain, looking directly at the spot where she trumped those other ponies. Fond memories, it seemed, did little for the mare. She continued on her path, trotting briskly through the rest of Ponyville. When she reached the edge of the Everfree Forest, Trixie gave one last look back at the Equestria that she had scavenged a living in for her entire adult life. It deserves what I’ve set loose in it. With a brief, disapproving snort, the Great and Powerful Trixie galloped off into the depths of the Everfree, forever lost to pony eyes.
With a small, contented sigh, Rarity opened her eyes to the very dull red of a rising sun. The barest hints of dawn’s stirring serenade crowed their way into the bedroom, growing in noise as the chamber magnified their echoes. “Oh dear, it’s rather early. Well, best to get a good start! I’ve been needing to get some gem hunting done, and early is an excellent time to start. Perhaps Spike will help me out again...” With a mind toward gemstones and dragons, Rarity peeled herself out of bed and fell into habit. She took a soft brush and plucked away a few of the more damaged bristles, remarking that she would most likely need a new one soon. With a few tugs and a gentle coaxing from the ubiquitous instrument, a gently curled violet mane tumbled down into perfect position and the small bits of matting in her coat slipped into a smooth sheen. Trotting downstairs, Rarity briefly considered her options for breakfast and decided on a simple fruit salad of grapes and honeydew.
She settled down to eat, carefully popping grapes into her mouth and letting the thinly sweet juice coat every bit of her tongue. Taking a piece of honeydew, she bit off a small bit and began to chew, letting herself indulge in the fruit after yesterday’s hard work.
After dabbing the last of the juices from her muzzle, Rarity cleaned up the small amount of mess she had made in the kitchen, carefully stowing her dishes away and nearly hearing the gleam of spotless countertops. She eased her saddlebags onto her back, carefully strapping them up as to take the weight of a very full sack of gems. Giving herself one final glance to ensure her presentability, Rarity trotted out the door and into a steadily brightening day.
With a warm sun easy and low in the sky, Rarity caught eye of the millions of little droplets of dew on the grass, glinting and gleaming with every turn of the head. As she entered the town square proper, she gave a kind wave to Applejack, who happened to be setting her cart up a fair bit earlier than usual. The farmer simply nodded in return, and Rarity continued clacking along the cobblestone pathways curving toward the library. The relative silence let her mind wander toward the sky, admiring the small tufts of delightfully puffy clouds lazily drifting to a halt as pegasi moved them into position.
When Rarity finally arrived at the library, she nearly gave a firm knock at the door before catching eye of a small note left on the handle: “Out to Canterlot on royal dragon business. Signed, Spike. Oh, well I may as well say hello to Twilight while I’m here.” Just before she went inside, a brown sheen caught in the corner of her vision. Taking a closer peek, Rarity realized that it was a small book. Taking it into her saddlebags, she finally opened the door and walked inside.
Ten minutes later, Rarity walked right back out of the library, the strange book still in her bags. Twilight slept heavily, and apparently would not be able to take the book until she woke up later on. Oh well, Rarity mused, I suppose that I could read the thing. It’s not very long and I could always use a bit more refinement. She stepped out and back into a lazy town just starting to wake up. After a moment of consideration, it occurred to her to pay a visit to Pinkie Pie. After all, when you lose a bet and promise to bake cookies with the mare, waiting for extended periods of time can quickly result in a pair of blue eyes watching your every move.
The door to Sugarcube Corner swung open with a small ring, tinkling around the shop and alerting a very chipper pink pony that waited upstairs on her day off. Before Mrs. Cake could say anything to the young mare that had entered, a blur of bouncy, pink energy practically teleported downstairs. Pinkie Pie smiled wide, jumping forward and pulling Rarity into a warm hug.
“Rarity! I was wondering when you’d show up! I mean, I was about to get up and go out and start looking for you to see if you wanted to bake those cookies today, but then I thought that you might be busy and that you might be coming tomorrow, but then you came walking in the door, and now you’re here!” By that point, Pinkie had let go of Rarity and started hopping happily toward the kitchen.
Mrs. Cake glanced uneasily toward Rarity, who still stood rooted to her spot directly in front of the door. She nodded back toward the kitchen. “You’re going to make sure that she keeps things in order, right?”
Rarity shook herself out of a minor daze. “Oh! Yes, of course. Although I’ll have to remember to never make a bet with that mare again...” Mr.s Cake offered a sage nod of agreement as Rarity moved toward the kitchen.
Upon her entrance, Rarity’s heart sank deep down. At least a dozen cookie pans lay empty and scattered about the room, and large bins full of various ingredients sat neatly on a low counter. Not to mention that the color scheme of the kitchen, while most definitely a good working environment for a baker, completely disagreed with everything she felt as elegant and noble in the world. A beaming Pinkie Pie stood in the center of it all. “Pinkie... we’re not going to fill all of these trays today, are we?” Rarity winced, offering a silent prayer to Celestia that Pinkie would say no.
The baker laughed, snorting along the way. “Of course we are, silly! It’s not like it takes much longer than making five, and that doesn’t take much longer than making just one. Well, unless you decide to make five DIFFERENT kinds of cookies, in which case it does take longer. But we’re only making one, so it’ll be over in no time at all!”
For some reason, Rarity strongly doubted that assertion. Even so, a bet was a bet, and she couldn’t attempt an escape. With a resigned sigh, Rarity pulled on a floury, slightly pink apron. No doubt from all of the red coloring she uses. As is befitting a lady, Rarity waited patiently, albeit uncomfortably, for Pinkie to give her instructions.
“Well,” Pinkie started, “since you have your magic and everything this should go really super-quick! First thing’s first, we’re going to need flour, and lots of it...”
Fifteen minutes of ingredients and mixing later, the dough sat ready in a bowl, smooth and off-white. Pinkie placed a bowl of cinnamon sugar on the counter, matching up to the other already there. “Okie dokie lokie, it’s time to get rollin’! First, you take a bit of dough.” Pinkie scooped a small clump of the gooey goodness out of her bowl. “Then, you roll it up into a nice little ball.” Using her hooves, she worked the dough around in circles over and over until it came together in a rough sphere. “And then you roll it in cinnamon sugar and flatten it on the pan!” In one smooth feat of motion, Pinkie rolled the ball into the bowl and it curved around, picking up a full coat of the sweet stuff and sliding back out and onto the pan. Once in place, she used her hoof to flatten it out a bit. “Easy peasy!” Just as Rarity lit up her horn and started scooping the dough up, Pinkie bopped it on the tip, stunning her for a bit and stopping the magic entirely. “No magic. Snickerdoodles have to be done the right way.” For a moment, Rarity saw a bit of fierce solemnity and a true love for her art. She smiled at the devotion, swallowed everything she knew about grooming, and picked up a bit of dough.
As the last tray slid into the oven, Rarity looked down at her hooves. Surprisingly, the dough hadn’t stuck to them nearly as much as she feared, but the cinnamon turned every bit of them a warm brown. Pinkie giggled in delight as she ate one of the first batch, which had cooled just enough to be safe to eat. After taking a short break to wash her hooves, Rarity took one of the treats for herself and took a bite. “Oh, Celestia...” She stared down at the cookie, examining every last bit of it to make absolutely sure that Pinkie had not altered them in any way. Rarity couldn’t help smiling, a soft comfort welling up inside her stomach. “It’s hard to not be excited all of the time, when these are the treats you make. I came in here thinking that it would be a very messy affair, and you’ve proved me wrong.” Pinkie hugged Rarity tightly.
“I knew you’d like it. Thanks so much for helping me out!” Her eyes brimmed with excitement and joy, glee practically dancing around in the cyan seas.
Rarity looked around at the treats, easily numbering in the hundreds. “So, I can take a few dozen of these home with me?” Pinkie nodded and fetched a bag, carefully stuffing it with two trays of the cookies.
As Rarity walked out of the kitchen, Pinkie gave her a wave. “Maybe we could make some more next month! I’m sure Mrs. Cake won’t mind if we let her sell some of these today.”
The unicorn silently agreed with her somewhat eccentric friend, sneaking another snickerdoodle before she exited the bakery.
Back at her home, she opened the front cover of the book and could barely believe what she saw. The words inside gleamed, carrying a light that nearly rivaled that of a perfectly cut flawless gem. As she read, she became more and more enthralled with every word that the book threw at her, poring over page after page of bright text. Just then, however, the flow of the text brought about its final conclusion:
The truest measure of a government’s power comes with the challenge of failure. Only by striking at the base of the tower can one see how strong it stands.
“What? Well, that’s certainly an interesting thought.” Just as Rarity moved to set the book aside, she caught a glimpse of the town hall in the window. Without her consent or desire, dark thoughts flooded her mind and rooted themselves deep in her head. If she had been staring at the book, she may have noticed a faint taint twisting its way out of the very pages of the book and into her mind. Temporarily seized by ideas only partially her own, Rarity summoned up her materials and began to sew.
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1124754
Indeed!
Very interesting, I look forward to seeing where Rarity's 'thread' goes from here.
1124777
It's definitely set for much higher goals than a simple dress.
did u draw the cover..?
You Know Me - Dawnbringer
The Devil - Dawnbringer
1125470
Yeah... It's really rough, I know. EDIT: New cover that I didn't draw!
1126501
You certainly live up to your username.
Ooh, Trixie's sowing seeds of discord. I like where this is going! Write more please!
1127409 no its amazing
1131475
Really? Well, thanks!
“I had never thought of things that way... and yet, the book was so right!
If an ellipse is used in the middle of a thought, then it is not capitalized. The only time you capitalize after an ellipse is if that thought is in the beginning of a new sentence, which is extremely rare because in most cases a period is used.
The more you know...