Forest II
“I'm sorry, Trixie, but you've failed.”
Twilight Sparkle was glaring at her from behind the desk. Trixie's lip trembled as she tried to find a response. She attempted to meet Twilight's eyes, but her gaze kept slipping to the blackboard behind her. Impossibly complex equations covered its surface, and they seemed to dance and shift whenever Trixie focused on something else, only to stand still when she looked back.
“I don't understand,” she said meekly. “I thought I passed. I remember passing.”
“How could you have possibly passed?” laughed Twilight. She was wearing her crown. Had she been a moment before? “You're the most worthless magician I've ever seen in my life. Are you sure you're even a proper unicorn?”
“You... you said that the real test was that I just had to try...”
“What in wide world of Equestria would that prove? I'm looking for ponies who can produce results, not ones who merely try. Besides, it's not just my test that you've failed. You've failed every class for this entire semester.”
“What? I don't remember any classes.”
“You haven't attended them in months! I'm afraid you're going to have to take a hideously difficult ten hour long test or you'll be expelled from magic school forever. You have five minutes to study, so you better hurry.”
A dark shape blinked into existence around Twilight's neck, and Trixie's teeth rattled in terror. Twilight's mouth continued to move, but no sound came out. The only thing that Trixie could see was the black and red amulet, the outstretched wings, the glowing red eye. She knew that she had to get away, but she couldn't move her legs, she couldn't turn her head. A familiar voice spoke inside her head, speaking of dark promises and mad dreams.
I don't need you, she thought. I'm free, it's over, you're gone.
The voice laughed.
By itself, the water-walking spell would have tested the limits of Lyra's concentration. It was a deceptively simple spell, requiring the caster to maintain a steady state of mind. It was like holding your breath or trying not to blink. Or, she supposed, maintaining a note for a long time. But on top of this, she was also playing a song on her lyre, which floated out of sight behind her. Normally this would be the easiest spell in the world for her, but the combined strain of not being able to physically see her instrument and focusing on not falling into the cold pond below her meant that she could barely manage one of the simplest melodies she knew.
Beneath all of this was that weird feeling, that strange otherness that Twilight claimed came from the forest itself. It was like her magic was tugging at its reins, bursting with a life of its own. All her life, magic had simply responded to her will. Either it worked or it didn't. The idea of magic having a mind of its own was frankly terrifying, but if Twilight thought it was worth studying, she would do whatever was asked of her.
B-flat, A, B-flat, E, A... keeping thinking about nothing, how do you think about nothing, don't think about how cold the water is, you've fallen in three times already, is Twilight watching, what's she thinking about... D, E, D, C-sharp... uh... uh... oh, ponyfeathers!
She and her instrument fell together as her magic spun out of control, but while the lyre only fell a few inches unto soft dirt, she was plunged into the freezing pond. The air left her lungs with the shock of the cold, and she flailed and splashed wildly before her hooves found the muddy bottom. She pushed her head back above the surface, gasping for breath as she blinked water from her eyes. Twilight chuckled at her from the shore.
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh. You were doing very well.”
“Heh, thanks,” said Lyra, pulling herself gracelessly out of the water. She retrieved her lyre from the grass with her magic, careful to keep it from the water dripping from her mane and coat. “You make it look so easy.”
“Believe me, it takes a lot of practice. When Zecora first taught me this exercise, I think I fell into that pond a dozen times before I was able to last even a minute. But let's get to the note-taking while it's still fresh in your mind.”
“Um,” said Lyra, scratching her head with a hoof. “It was definitely there again. That weird feeling that my magic had, like it wanted to run off and do its own thing. And the exercise does make it more noticeable. I guess because I'm paying more attention to the notes? Like, I have to take care to play each one, and so I notice that if I don't do it right, it'll start going wonky. And I tried to do what you said, to grab a hold of that free energy. But it kept slipping away, and then I guess I lost my balance and got soaked.” Lyra shook her head, trying to get some of the water out of her mane. “I'm sorry, I'm not doing a very good job of this.”
“You're being very helpful,” said Twilight as she recorded Lyra's words with a quill and parchment. “I know progress has been slow, but we're really adding to Equestrian knowledge here.”
“But I feel like somepony who was more, I don't know, scientifically minded, could do a better job describing everything to you.”
“I have my own notes for that. What I'm looking for here is fresh perspective. And besides, the magic of the Everfree is about, well, freedom. Freedom from rules, from the constraints of logic. Who better to describe that than a talented musician such as yourself?”
Lyra blushed. “I'm not that talented.”
“What's your Cutie Mark, then? A flyswatter?”
“Okay, yes, I can play,” said Lyra, levitating her instrument and strumming out a chord. “But I've never been terribly good at composing. And I'm definitely no lyricist.”
“Play it for me, then.”
“What?”
Twilight smiled, and lay down in the grass. “Play a song, describing the feeling of the Forest's magic. If you don't think your words are good enough, tell it to me in notes.”
Lyra thought for a second, then began playing. It was a clumsy, awkward improvisation, but in the stillness of the clearing, it seemed at home. The tune was simple, but there was an energy to it, a feeling of potential. The noonday sun shone down between the branches, and for once the forest around them seemed almost welcoming. Lyra began to lose herself in the music.
She could feel it, now that she knew what to look for. A pull on her magic, a drive, like a current pushing her on. It filled her energy, and her breathing quickened along with the music.
A world without limits, that's what it is, she thought. A world where anything's possible. Where I can be anypony I want to be. Where I can do whatever I want. That's the world of the forest.
She looked down at Twilight, who had stretched out her wings and closed her eyes.
A world where I could tell you how I felt. Where I could look into your eyes and know that you were seeing me, really seeing me. Where I could feel my legs wrapped around you, the warmth of your body pressed against mine. Out here in the woods where there's no history, no titles or school records or bits owed to anypony, just two ponies, together.
Although the melody she had composed on the fly was sweet and charming, Lyra suddenly found herself unable to think of a way to finish. She fumbled with one chord, and then another, and then the song simply trailed off. The echoes of the music were quickly swallowed by the forest, and then the only sounds Lyra could hear was the wind in the trees and her own heavy breathing. After a moment, Twilight rose to her hooves, stretching her legs and spreading her wings before turning to Lyra.
“What do you want me to do?”
Lyra blinked in surprise. “I—what?”
“It's my turn to try the exercise,” said Twilight. “And I don't have any musical talent to speak of, so I need another spell to cast while I'm on the water. Got any suggestions?”
“Oh! Oh. Um, there was that cool spell you showed us the other night, where you made the flowers on that bush all bloom at once. Here, take this!”
Lyra ran to a small shrub on the edge of the clearing and quickly pulled a branch from it with her magic. Trotting over to the pond, she proudly presented it to Twilight, who let it fall to the ground with a sad smile.
“That spell only works on a plant that's alive, and you just killed it by taking it off the bush.”
“Oh,” said Lyra. “Oops.”
“But that's still a lovely idea. Here, look up.”
As Twilight stepped out onto the water, Lyra looked up at a leafy branch that hung over her head. It was already coming alive with a colorful array of flowers that grew and bloomed before her eyes. One after another they shed their petals, and before long the air around her was filled with a soft and brilliantly colored rainfall. She sat and watched, spellbound and breathless.
“Quite frankly, Trixie, you're a disgrace to our entire family.”
Trixie's father towered over, far taller than he had ever stood while he was alive. She had countless memories of him smiling, laughing, joking, but all of that seemed impossibly distant in the face of the frown he fixed her with now. She cowered before him.
“I felt I should tell you that everything you ever secretly worried about is true. I always thought your shows were stupid, and that your magic was worthless. I wanted a proper earth pony son, not some silly prancing magician.”
They were standing in her foalhood home. But had the ceilings always been this high? Had the corners always been filled with such dark shadows? Had the hallways always rang with such eerie echoes and far-off clanging? Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of the world around her. Her father began to transform before her eyes. His light blue coat darkened into a midnight black. His eyes began to shine with red light. Stiff wings spread from his sides, and a long, thin horn grew from his forehead.
I can make you truly great, said the amulet.
“No,” whispered Trixie.
I can give you true power, said the amulet.
“NO!” shouted Trixie.
The world dissolved into swirling black and red shapes.
If Fleur had been asked a few weeks ago to picture the environment that a magical research team led by the Princess herself would be working, Zecora's hut would not have sprung to mind. It was small, cluttered, and smelled of bizarre spices and herbs. The company she was being asked to keep was also disconcerting. The DJ was downright rude, and Fleur avoided speaking with her as much as she could. The magician wasn't quite as bad; behind her posturing and self-aggrandizing, Fleur was certain she could detect in the strange mare's speech and bearing the evidence of an upper-class upbringing. She had at one point attempted to inquire about this, but Trixie had shrugged her off, so there was no company to be had there.
The street musician had a certain charm, but she also had a starry-eyed naivety that Fleur found frankly embarrassing. The zebra fascinated her, but she didn't know quite how to relate to her. Coming from such a different culture, and living in such a strange place, Fleur didn't know how to place herself in relation to her socially. Was she nobility? Royalty? A priest of some sort? Did zebras have such things? Was she a fugitive or exile, living so far from her homeland? Placed on such uncertain social footing, Fleur simply held back. It was safer that way.
The Princess herself was a riddle to Fleur. She knew that Twilight had risen to her rank and not been raised as royalty, but she had also spent most of her life as the personal student of Celestia herself. Surely somepony who had spent so much time in high-class company would have learned to act more refined herself? Yet the Princess seemed to have absolutely no sense of decorum. She treated the ponies around her as a cross between students and close friends, and when their were chores to do around their host's residence, she threw herself into them with a clumsy enthusiasm entirely unbecoming of her station.
Yet Fleur could not help but admire the strange purple alicorn. Watching her perform magic, Fleur was instantly convinced of her talent in that regard. She had also proven herself immensely knowledgeable on a wide variety of subjects, and at the drop of a hat would launch into long-winded explanations and ad-hoc history lessons. These usually prompted a theatrical yawn from Vinyl Scratch, but Fleur was surprised to find herself attentive. It was as if that the Princess's own passion for knowledge made any subject interesting.
Fleur tried to collect all these thoughts into the letter she was writing to her husband, but every time her quill touched paper, she hesitated, continually double guessing her own observations. Would Fancy be interested in such musings? Were they accurate? Was it proper to divulge such information on such an important pony as the Princess? Try as she might, her attempts to put her musings into words turned into trite descriptions of the past few days. Everypony is working hard, she wrote. The Princess is such wonderful company. We have such a gracious host. She sighed, and gazed out the window she was sitting beneath. Even in the middle of the day, the forest was so dark and oppressive. She rolled up the scroll and set it and her quill down gently. Perhaps she would return to the letter later.
Her contemplation was interrupted by the sound of hoofsteps and the appearance of Lyra, smiling cheerfully, at the hut's entrance. Privacy was in short supply in the small hut; Fleur gave her a polite nod.
“Good afternoon, Miss Heartstrings. Does the Princess request our presence outside?”
“Er, I think we have a little while before we she wants to start up again.” The green mare trotted over to sit with her, still grinning. “What are you up to? Writing a letter?”
“I am attempting to,” said Fleur. “Our host offered to send a letter to my husband in Canterlot, but I'm having a little trouble putting my thoughts into words.”
“Your husband? That's so sweet!”
“Quite,” said Fleur. She considered Lyra carefully. “Miss Heartsrings, what do you know about our friend, the so-called Great and Powerful Trixie?”
“Trixie?” Lyra seemed a bit put back. “Oh, um, she's alright, I guess?”
“Earlier you alluded to some sort of incident she was involved with, in Ponyville. She's not some sort of—well, criminal, is she?”
“No! Well, yes, sort of, I guess. Um, she somehow got her hooves on this amulet, and I guess it possessed her or something, and she and Twilight had this magic duel, and then she kicked Twilight out of Ponyville, and then things were kind of crazy for awhile. I mean, even for Ponyville. But then Twilight tricked her into taking the amulet off, and she went back to normal, or, you know, how she usually is. I don't know what happened with the authorities, but I guess they decided that she wasn't really at fault for what, you know, the amulet did.”
“Hmm,” said Fleur. “So you don't believe that she's dangerous?”
“Dangerous? I don't think so. Do you think she's, um, dangerous?”
“I'm merely concerned for her.” Lyra was looking decidedly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking, but Fleur pressed on. “I know it may not be my business, but surely you've noticed that she's been acting a bit odd. She's gotten more irritable and cagey in the days since we've come here, and keeps stepping aside to have private conversations with the Princess. Last night, she woke me up when she was talking in her sleep. Practically yelling, really.” Fleur gave Lyra her best piercing stare. “Something is going on, and Trixie and the Princess aren't telling us the details. Aren't you the least bit concerned?”
“Twilight trusts her,” said Lyra. “And I trust Twilight.”
Fleur frowned. “Ah, I see. We're on a first name basis with her majesty now, hmm?”
Lyra's face flushed. “What—what's that supposed to mean?”
“I haven't commented on your presumptuous familiarity with the Princess, but don't think I haven't noticed it. I know the concept might be difficult to grasp for somepony from a town as unrefined as Ponyville, but there's such a thing as propriety, and it's safe to say that you frequently overstep your bounds where Her Majesty is concerned.”
Lyra stepped forward, her nostrils flared and her ears flicking violently. “You don't know what you're talking about. Twilight doesn't care about any of that—that 'class' stuff. And she's from Ponyville too, in case you forgot, so watch what you say about it!”
Fleur held her ground. “She may live in Ponyville, but she was raised in Canterlot, and she knows what it means to be royalty. It's her prerogative to behave as she wishes, but we need to treat her with the respect her station demands.”
“That's a load of horsefeathers!”
“I'm not trying to quarrel with you, Miss Heartstrings. I am trying to help you. I don't think you know what you're getting into.”
“I can handle myself fine, thank you very much.”
With a snort, Lyra turned and marched out, leaving Fleur alone in the hut once more. She sat back down beneath window with a sigh, and turned back to her half-finished letter. What should I do, Fancy?, she thought. What would you say to them? What would you say to me? Should I stay? Is what I'm doing here important?
The parchment had no response, only the banal recountings that she had penned minutes ago. She reread them with displeasure, then crumpled the paper up with her magic and tossed it into the ashes of the currently cold firepit.
The overcast sky was a lime green, and a cold wind whipped her mane and tail out behind her. The grass pricked at her hooves like needles, she cried out as she climbed the hill, every step filled with agony. With every step, the twisted, gnarled tree at the hill's top grew larger. Its bare branches unfurled like the petals of some great flower. When she reached its base, one of the boughs leaned down, as if to offer her a gift. Hanging from it was the amulet.
Claim me, it said.
“I won't,” said Trixie.
There is not much time, it said.
“Until what?” asked Trixie, blinking away tears.
The forest will wake, it said.
The grass began to grow beneath her hooves. She screamed and tried to pull away, but they clung to her like thorns. The world was growing dark around her, and the glowing red eye danced before her.
Claim me, or it will claim you, it said.
“See, what you gotta do is take that riff at the end there, that catchy one, where it rises up like 'ba-dum-ba-BA-DAAA' , you take a sample of that and set it against a good beat, like maybe, 'un-tss-un-un-tss-tss', something like that, and maybe throw in some sirens.”
“I don't think Marezart would have appreciated you doing that to one of her concertos.”
“You don't know that, she might have been down with it. And you can't cage culture, you have to let the music be free. Remixing is the highest form of flattery. Anyway, you get a good groove going, you get everypony thinking, 'ok, this is alright, I dig it,' then, when they're least expecting it, you drop the bass! And it's like, BWAAA, BWA-DA-DA-DA, BWAAA, BWAAA, and then that riff comes back in, 'ba-dum-ba-BA-DAAA-BWAAA'.” Vinyl was rearing on her hind legs, waving her forelegs animatedly in the air as she laid out her plans for the song. “Man, can't you just hear it?”
Lyra giggled. “It sounds just like every other dubstep song ever.”
“That's just 'cuz I'm only describing it to you. If I could put some work in on it, believe me, it would blow your mind. You should come into the studio some time, I'll show you my stuff.”
The two were once again relaxing in the dusk outside of Zecora's hut. It had become a daily routine for Vinyl to come and listen to Lyra practice. The others had all played audience for her too, but Vinyl was the only one with enough musical knowledge to offer her anything other than polite nods and vague compliments—although Twilight had once treated her to an hour long lecture on the history of music. Lyra had been enraptured by every minute of it, although her attention had been less on the actual content of Twilight's speech and more on the lyrical quality of her voice and the way the sunlight seemed to dance in her eyes.
Vinyl sighed as she settled back down in the grass beside Lyra. “I'm just saying, maybe you should give all that stuffy old music a rest. Try playing something that was written by somepony who lived in the last century, or who's, Celestia forbid, still alive.”
“Tell me, what does your marefriend think of your attitude toward the classics?”
“Tavi?” Vinyl snickered. “I give her a hard time about it too. Celestia knows why she puts up with me.”
“You must miss her a lot.”
“Yeah.” A strangely unreadable express came over Vinyl's face, and she turned away from Lyra. “Sure. I guess.”
Lyra frowned. “You guess?”
There was a moment of silence, but if Vinyl had a response for Lyra, it was lost when a loud bang sounded from behind them. The two of them turned to look at Zecora's hut in confusion. The first noise was followed by a second, even louder than the first and accompanied by brilliantly flashing lights from the windows of the small building. They gave each other a worried glance before rushing to the hut's entrance.
Zecora's hut was always cluttered, but the scene that Lyra and Vinyl walked in on was nothing short of a disaster. The wooden table they had eaten at every night was overturned, and the floor was littered with the shattered remains of the clay bowls. A number of Zecora's masks and trinkets had been knocked from the wall, and the heavy black cauldron was on its side in one corner. Fleur stood by the doorway, backed against the wall and a fearful expression on her face. Twilight and Zecora stood on the far end of the room, and in the middle of it all was Trixie, her eyes wild and her mane in disarray.
“Just tell me where it is!” yelled Trixie.
Zecora stared stonily back at the unicorn. “I cannot believe you would ask me so; the amulet's danger, you should already know.”
“I don't understand, Trixie,” said Twilight, frowning with concern. “You told me you were okay.”
“Well I'm not, Twilight Sparkle. I know that the amulet is out there. It's talking to me. Tormenting me.”
“What the hay is going on?” whispered Lyra.
“Looks like Trixie finally snapped,” replied Vinyl.
“Trixie, you can't put that amulet back on.”
“I'm not going to put it on, Twilight, I'm going to destroy it!”
“Okay, well, that's still a really bad idea. We still don't really understand the Alicorn Amulet's power, and you definitely can't go off into the forest alone at night. Just calm down and we can talk about this.”
“Get ready,” whispered Lyra.
“For what?” asked Vinyl.
“If she makes a bolt for it, we have to stop her.”
“Woah, woah, woah,” hissed Vinyl. “What makes you think I want to get involved?”
“Vinyl!”
“I don't need your help!” yelled Trixie, her voice quavering. “I need to make it go away! You don't trust me, Twilight, but I'm more powerful than you think, and I will destroy the amulet!”
“Trixie, wait!”
But Trixie was already casting the spell. The threads of magic formed around her, and before anypony could do anything, she disappeared in a blinding flash of blue light. Everypony stared in shock at the empty space where Trixie had stood, and in the following silence they could hear what their yelling had covered up: a cacophony of howling and roars from the woods outside the hut.
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Jeez, Trixie sure does make a show no matter what it is about. Seems the amulet messed her up far worse than anypony realized. Though, it's refreshing to see her trying to fix the problem, as destructive as it might be, rather than digress into a power hungry villain again.
Fleur continues to fascinate me. She has all the social hangups of the Canterlot elite and yet she's stuck in a mud hut with village hics. Her place in the group has to be the most awkward of them all.
Also nice to see at least two of the unicorns bond. Vinyl's still a hoot and Lyra's a cute bundle of puppy-love. Gotta see where these two will be at the end.
Moving on!
Wow.... At least Trxie want to to free her self and not use it again. Go Trixie go!! I hope you find love in this fantastic story~~~~~~~
I really like how Trixie's struggle with the amulet is very interesting. I like the idea of the Alicorn Amulet being like the one ring, and it gives me ideas.
C'mon, Trixie, put it back on. You know you want to. It won't be so bad. Won't hurt a bit.
MUHAHAHHAAHAHA!
The amulet is still in the Canterlot vault or something like that, isn't it?
2948100 If it's like the One Ring then that would mean that some batshit crazy alicorn forged it in the past..... OOOOH the poosibilities.... I HOPE YOU'RE READING THIS, HASBRO!
2950528>>2948100
Until it falls into the firey maw of..... Spike.
"Mmm, tastes like evil."
Uh oh...
The thing is, I'm wondering if the Amulet is talking to her. Maybe she was permanently corrupted and it is using her weaknesses and fears to fool her into freeing it again. As Lyra said, they may have to incapacitate and restrain Trixie for her own protection. Additionally, I really think that Twilight should do what she should have done after Magic Duel and throw that thing in the nearest available active volcano.
"When you start down the Dark path... forever will it dominate your destiny..."
You finally wrote some dialogue for Zecora, even if it was only one line.
Trixie can actually teleport now? Wow, she really has gotten better.
Woah, now that is an interesting development. I guess that kind of magical corruption might not be something you just easily get over.
you know things are serious when trixie drops the 3rd person
Fervidor: Trixie can actually teleport now? Wow, he really has gotten better.
> She*
2951401
This comment mixes three fandoms.
MLPFIM
LOTR
Starwars
Um...well! It sounds like the Alicorn Amulet is trying to actually warn Trixie about something that's worse than itself, and since it hasn't appeared to anyone else, it's either a residual effect from wearing it in the first place, or she's actually the only one that can hope to control it, but only if she learns to control herself first. I'm...not sure which to root for, honestly. Or...Trixie will go insane, and destroy the amulet. Makes me wonder how long she's gone without sleep?