Trixie's Clear and Simple Secret to Ultimate Power
Trixie’s Clear and Simple Secret to Ultimate Power
Trixie froze at the moment she realized that what she thought were the sounds of forest creatures terrified of her awesomeness were in fact the screams of panicked ponies. Punctuated—for some reason—by the music of a pipe organ.
“Do not fear!” she cried out gladly as she launched into a gallop. “The Great and...Powerful Trixie is here to save...you!”
She decided to prioritize running (and breathing) over pontificating from that point.
By the time she had reached the doors of the decaying castle in the middle of the Everfree, the screams and music had ceased. In some ways, that increased rather than decreased the sense of foreboding that Trixie felt. Putting on her top speed, she burst through the doors, stopping with one hoof raised dramatically towards the ceiling, and her cape briefly fluttering behind her. Under her hat her horn was lit, ready for anything. She opened her mouth to say whatever would be most appropriate: a challenge to whatever beast she might encounter, or words of comfort to whichever ponies were in the most peril. “It is I...!” she began. Then she took in her surroundings.
What she saw was an alicorn, a unicorn, two pegasi, two earth ponies and a dragon striding or hovering towards her, laughing comfortably with each other, and showing no signs that they were in any peril whatsoever. Well except for the yellow one, but Trixie was fairly certain that she herself was the current source of that particular pegasus’ panic attack.
Trixie prided herself on her ability to react quickly to changing circumstances, an absolutely vital skill in her primary occupation. In fact, she could even recover from a complete collapse of her sense of reality in less than five seconds. It says something about the kind of life that Trixie has led that she actually had multiple occasions to resort to this particular talent.
And therefore it was with the merest of pauses that Trixie was able to completely change the tone of her voice from challenge to praise, completing her sentence with “...The humble student Trixie, here to present myself to Princess Twilight Sparkle,” and a formal bow.
“Humble?” an incredulous Applejack mouthed to Rainbow Dash.
“However did you know that we were here, dear Trixie?” Rarity asked, with the tone of veiled hostility that promised repercussions to whichever pony was foalish enough to have given Trixie directions.
“It was several ponies in fact,” Trixie replied in a surprised tone, rising to her hooves. “At first, Trixie thought that they were trying to get rid of her by directing her into the Everfree. But in fact Rose, the Cakes, and several others made it quite clear that your most recent adventure had permanently tamed the forest, and from their very clear instructions and advice on how to handle the most likely dangers Trix...I would face, I was soon convinced of their sincerity. I really must give you credit, Your Highness—Ponyville is by far the nicest town I have ever seen, and I have seen almost every town, village and city in the realm. Despite all that I have done, the inhabitants of this town are still willing to give me a fair chance.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “However do you do it?”
“Oh, that’s not me,” Twilight quickly corrected her, “although it is true that I made a speech or two about what degree you were to blame for recent events. No, it is Pinkie Pie that deserves the credit for making Ponyville the friendliest town in Equestria. Believe me,” she added, sending a worried look to an equally worried Fluttershy, “you do not want to see what this town looks like without a Pinkie Pie.”
“Pinkie Pie?” Trixie asked with some confusion, pointing at the wildly waving pony at the back of the group. “The baker?”
“Not only that, but also party planner, mood lifter, and dependable friend to everypony in Ponyville, all rolled into one pony!” Pinkie exclaimed.
“So what do you need to see Twilight about?” Spike asked.
“I am merely here to ask her to take me into her service,” Trixie replied, her eyes sparkling, “so that I might learn from her.” And saying this, she bowed once more.
“Wait, are you applying to be my student?” Twilight asked.
“I am,” Trixie said, keeping her head down.
Twilight stepped forward to raise the blue unicorn’s eyes up to her own level. “This seems like a sudden change of heart,” she said. “Other than our unfortunate animosity, I thought you were happy as a stage magician.”
“That was an act,” Trixie said dismissively. “One that Trixie...that I have had some trouble discarding. Ever since a remarkable disappearance at my seventh birthday party, I have dreamed of becoming a true magician. Like...like you, Twilight.” She looked down shamefully. “During a recent visit to Canterlot, I saw the stained glass windows, the ones you and your friends appeared in. I dreamed...” She looked out at the judging ponies standing behind Twilight, silently asking them to judge the honesty of her words. “I dreamed that I might do something to deserve that kind of honor. If not in the royal palace, then in the civic records of some insignificant village, that my magic would for once be seen as something other than a joke.”
Trixie surveyed her audience. Her main enemies, the farmer, the flier and the fashionista, were united in their doubt. The shy one was avoiding eye contact, and the crazy pink one...
“Oh, that is so sad!” Pinkie exclaimed, suddenly in Trixie’s face. “You need something to pick you up. A cupcake! Oh, but the shop is closed, and I ate all the cupcakes. I know, I’ll make you a cupcake! I just need to find...the Kitchen of the Two Pony Sisters!” And with that she was off, leaving a fading pink dust cloud in her shape behind.
“Huh,” was all that Trixie had to say in response to that outburst.
“I’m sorry, Trixie,” Twilight told her with a heavy head, “but I’m afraid you’re much too old to begin magic instruction under me.”
Trixie turned her eyes on the alicorn. “Begin?” she asked in a challenging tone. “What makes you think that I am beginning? I have apprenticed myself to three different unicorn mages over the years, whenever my shows had raised enough money to afford their time. That is why I would make such an excellent student for you—I know the ropes! I’ll file your books, dust your furniture, make your breakfasts—I’m an excellent barista, if I do say so myself—”
“Trixie!” Twilight said, finally getting in a word edgewise. “Spike already does all that for me.”
“Oh,” said Trixie, downhearted for approximately one whole second. “Night shift?” she then said with renewed enthusiasm.
“I’ve got another assistant for that,” Twilight said.
“Oh. Well, I can handle all of the annoying princess correspondence that your other assistants don’t want to handle.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind that,” Spike said with some reluctance.
“Perfect!” exclaimed Trixie. “When can we start?”
Twilight sighed. “Girls, you might as well go on ahead,” she said. “This might take a while.”
“Oh, I’m staying,” Rarity said with a smirk. “If you don’t mind, Twilight. For...moral support.” She used the tip of her tail to sweep some nonexistent dust away from a spot on the stone floor, then gently sat herself down.
Rainbow Dash spent a few moments staring at Rarity, trying to figure out what she was up to. “Oh!” she exclaimed a few seconds later as she got it. “You’re going to lay down the old Egghead Smackdown on Miss Lame and Full-of-Herself, aren’t you? I’m in.” She found herself a comfortable bit of awning to perch on. “All I need is some of Pinkie’s popcorn and I’m set!”
This was normally the cue for the pink pony to appear out of nowhere. Instead, the sound of thirty or more cast-iron pots and pans hitting a stone floor in perfect unison could be heard far away, followed by the echoing pronouncement of “I can fix that!”
Rainbow Dash resigned herself to a show without popcorn.
“Trixie understands that she’s built up a certain amount of ill will.” The unicorn said this with a calm demeanor, to show that she wasn’t intimidated.
“You got that right!” Applejack said, showing her commitment to sitting this out, by...well, sitting. With a small sigh of resignation, Fluttershy sat between Applejack and Rarity.
Twilight looked back in disapproval at the antics of her friends, before facing the unicorn in the cape and hat.
At seeing the princess’ eyes wander dismissively over her accoutrements as a stage performer, Trixie quickly removed them. “See, clean break!” she declared. “No more performances, no more Great and Powerful. Just plain old Trixie, unicorn.”
“Trixie,” Twilight said wearily, “I don’t think you have the knowledge necessary to be able to benefit from—”
“A thaum is the basic unit of magic,” Trixie recited. “It is the amount of magic needed to cause an actual rabbit to materialize inside an actual hat, without tricks, assuming said rabbit was less than ten ponywidths away at the time the spell was cast. More practically, it is the amount needed to suspend and keep a ponyweight one hooveswidth above the ground for one minute. The firing of a magical bolt follows one of two modes: straight line or a designated visible target. Teleportation requires that both origin and destination be known to the caster. The expression of magic for an earth pony is through the hooves, and is experienced as either a melody or a rhythm in the mind of the pony, but never both. The formula for the propagation of history-altering god magic through time is DT to the power of—”
“I didn’t know the earth pony rule,” Twilight said incredulously, “but I know you got all the rest correct.” She looked back to Applejack. “Is that melody/rhythm thing true?”
Applejack nodded.
“Huh,” said Twilight.
At that moment, an army of star spiders marched out of the Castle of the Two Sisters, right between the legs of six startled ponies and one dragon.
“I found the pantry!” exclaimed the faraway voice of Pinkie Pie.
With a rather futile show of dignity, Rarity climbed back down from her spider-fleeing spot next to an amused Rainbow Dash.
“Any more distractions?” Twilight Sparkle rhetorically asked the ceiling. “No? Alright, Trixie, I’ll have Spike draw you up a standardized entry test.”
“Fifth circle?” Spike said with a cruel smile.
“I’ve passed the sixth circle exit exam,” Trixie said with a boastful smile. But that smile quickly vanished as she added, “written portion only. You see, that’s what I wish to learn from you, Your Highness. How to increase my power. I know exactly how to use whatever power I obtain—as long as it doesn’t mess with my mind—I simply need to know how to get that power.”
“And you think I can teach it,” Twilight said quietly.
“Trixie knows you can,” Trixie said confidently. “Tr...I’ve studied all of the publicly available information on you, of which—”
“Of which there is far too much,” Twilight finished in a dry tone.
“...Yes,” Trixie said carefully. “You are a very odd magician, at least according to the standards of my teachers. You live in a town, instead of a tower, like a ‘proper magician’. And you’ve got six friends who by all accounts you treat as your equals, instead of surrounding yourself with a small band of sycophants, again like a ‘proper magician’. Of course,” she said with a frown, “my teachers failed to do anything close to what you have done, so Trixie has decided to reject their standards of propriety, and to proceed with a mind free of preconceptions. Trixie had to wade through a rather large pile of ridiculous theories in order to deduce the truth about you.” With a smirk, she added, “She now...I now know that you are not, for example, a magical construct created by Princess Celestia, nor are you a centuries-old alicorn who hid her wings under an illusion prior to her formal ascension.”
“You forgot the one where Spike is my familiar,” Twilight added sarcastically.
“Please!” Trixie exclaimed. “Everypony knows that dragons don’t work that way! Even the surge you experienced when you got your cutie mark fails as a long-term explanation. No amount of magic could be held internally for as much as a day, much less the years and years between then and now. The eyewitness accounts make it pretty clear that that surge was entirely expended in a matter of moments.” Trixie began to pace back and forth in front of an amused Twilight as she continued to expound her conclusions. “And in the years between then and when you moved to Ponyville, the only thing that separated you from your peers was your skill in using the enormous amounts of magic that Princess Celestia gave to you. On your own, your magic level was in fact less than that of an average unicorn.”
“Well!” said Twilight, “you have been doing your research.”
“Indeed!” proclaimed Trixie. “It’s obvious to me that you have a secret, and this secret is the source of your prodigious power.”
Twilight nodded to herself. “It is indeed true that I have an unconventional source to my magic, but I don’t really consider it a secret.”
“Um, Twilight, you’re not going to tell her, are you?” a concerned Applejack asked.
“Tell her what, precisely?” Rainbow Dash countered. “I thought that she was naturally more powerful than other unicorns.”
“As did I,” Rarity admitted.
“Yeah, well, whatever this secret is, do we really want Trixie learning it?” Applejack insisted.
“I think it will do her good,” Twilight said confidently, looking Trixie in the eye. “Knowing it will transform her world utterly, and entirely for the better. I know it did the same to me.”
“And what is it?” Trixie added, with equal amounts of hope and doubt. “What secret was it that escaped the knowledge of three unicorn masters and untold books?”
Twilight leaned forward towards Trixie, a knowing smile upon her lips. Everypony else leaned forward in anticipation. She waited nearly a minute before finally speaking in a breathy tone: “Magic is affected by emotions.”
Trixie leaned back incredulously. “That’s it? That’s your precious secret? Trixie learned that on, like, Day One! ‘The only way to achieve consistent results is to attain inner calm.’”
“I’m not finished.”
Trixie rolled her eyes before returning her face to being way too close to Twilight’s. “Go on.”
“In both directions,” Twilight said.
Trixie leaned back again as she pondered what she had just heard. “In both directions?” she muttered to herself. “But that would mean adding a factor E, for the emotions of bystanders, into the basic formula for...” She lifted a hoof to begin working some imaginary equations in mid-air.
Twilight put a hoof to her mouth to cover up a ridiculous grin as she imagined the breakthrough that Trixe was steadily approaching.
Trixie’s hoof froze, and her eyes went wide. “That actually works!” she whispered to herself. She leaned her head back in to where it was before. “So...for instance...”
“Friendship,” Twilight said gleefully, trying with a mighty effort to keep her voice down.
“Friendship,” Trixie repeated.
“Friendship...is a magical multiplier.”
“A magical...” Trixie stepped back, and looked at the ponies and one dragon sitting behind Twilight. “Six times!” she exclaimed. “Your friendships afford you six times the magical power of an average unicorn mage!”
“Hey wait a minute!” Rainbow exclaimed, taking to the air. She tapped on Twilight’s withers with one hoof to be sure she had her attention. “Are you saying that you’ve been leaching off of us all these years? Getting all of your magic, at our expense?”
Trixie took in the others’ reactions. It seemed pretty clear that Twilight was the only one who had figured this revelation out. Although from Twilight’s surprise, it seemed equally likely that the alicorn had assumed that the others would have figured it out for themselves by now.
“Well, yes,” Twilight reluctantly replied to Rainbow Dash’s ‘leaching’ accusation, “but the Friendship Effect, as I call it, is not limited to unicorn magic.”
Rainbow flew nearly to the ceiling of the ancient hall, in order to put some distance between them. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Let me ask you this,” said Twilight, craning her head up to look the pegasus in the eye. “Your Sonic Rainboom, or any of your other really hard stunts...are they easier to do when you’re alone, or when you’re doing them for a crowd?”
“For a crowd, of course,” Rainbow answered. “But that’s just the crowd giving me their enthusiasm. It’s not actually magical!”
“And what’s the difference between a great big crowd of adoring fans that doesn’t include us, and a small crowd that does include us? Or how about a crowd that you didn’t know until after the fact included us?”
“Uh...well...I might have to get back to you on that. But...but does that mean that the Sonic Rainboom is all you, and not me?” Rainbow Dash seemed particularly desperate to get the right answer from Twilight for this particular question.
Twilight smiled up at the pegasus reassuringly. “I had to study and practice a whole lot before I could use my unicorn magic to do anything useful, and you are all witness to how far I have to go before I’ll be any good with my new pegasus and earth pony magic. So in the same way, just because you have access to more magic than practically any other pegasus alive, doesn’t mean anything if you can’t figure out how to use it, and if you don’t practice day and night so that the magic does exactly what you want it to do. It’s still you using the magic.”
“Oh, alright,” Rainbow said, a grin growing on her face. “I guess I can live with that.”
“I suppose you’re going to claim that your magic has also been affectin’ the farm.”
“Not my magic, Applejack, your magic. Does that make sense to you?”
“Maybe,” the earth pony said reluctantly. “I’ll have to think about it.”
“So, Twilight,” Fluttershy said, rising to her hooves and silently approaching the alicorn. “Are you saying that when I stood up to that awful, scary dragon, and when I went into the waterspout with all of those...other pegasi to raise water for Ponyville, and every other time when I had to stand up for what I believed in, that all of you were...were literally giving me strength, invading my mind to force your magic on me? Is that what you are saying?” By this time she was face to face with Twilight.
Twilight winced at the rather vivid way that Fluttershy had phrased what her friends had been doing for her. “Yes?” she managed to squeak out.
“Oh, Twilight!” Fluttershy exclaimed breathily, and took the alicorn into a close embrace, wrapping her wings around her. “Thank you!”
“Th...thank me?” Twilight asked in shock.
“Oh, yes,” Fluttershy replied. “It was always so much worse before, thinking I was alone. But knowing now that you’re right there beside me. It helps. It really, really helps me feel like I could do anything!” She put a hoof over her mouth, surprised by what she had just said. “Well, almost anything.”
“Well, I dunno,” Trixie finally spoke. “That friendship would have an effect on magic...that seems to work out. But a multiplier? I mean, that seems like a bit—”
“Pinkie Pie,” the others all said at once. For Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy and Spike, it was in sudden realization, while for Rarity and Twilight, it seemed a foregone conclusion.
“What about Pinkie Pie?” Trixie asked.
“Did somepony call my name?” Pinkie asked, emerging from behind a column, her muzzle to the ground. “I looked all through the pantry, but I didn’t find a single grain of sugar. No sugar! Can you imagine? Surely after a thousand years there would still be enough sugar left over to make one cupcake! So it looks like I’ll have to get one from the emergency supply!”
“Yep, I think you might have finally explained her,” Applejack said to Twilight. “Never thought I’d live to see the day.”
“Pinkie Pie, exactly how many close friends do you have?” Trixie asked the pink pony, who was currently busy nosing her way under Trixie’s discarded robe.
“One thousand and eighteen,” Pinkie’s muffled voice responded. “I made my thousandth friend last month!” She pushed her way out from the robe, looking nothing so much as a dog nosing out her favorite treat. And like many a dog, she had gotten her face stuck in something. Namely, Trixie’s hat.
“Found one!” Pinkie exclaimed triumphantly, sticking a hoof into the hat and removing it to reveal a cupcake covered with a decadent amount of blue and white colored frosting. “Here’s your Cheer Up/Welcome to the Secret cupcake!”
Trixie picked the pastry up gingerly with her magic. She leaned forward and took a nibble. “Chocolate and hot sauce!” she exclaimed. “My favorite!”
“Finally!” Pinkie Pie cried out. “Somepony who agrees that capsaicin is a vital component in baking!”
Twilight started laughing at another of Pinkie Pie’s antics, until she got a good look at the cupcake and she stopped in shock. “Trixie, you said you became convinced of your magical destiny after a ‘remarkable disappearance’ at your seventh birthday party?”
“Yes,” Trixie said impatiently between nibbles. She allowed her eyes to focus on the wrapper of the cupcake, which had the words “Happy Birthday!” written upon them over and over again. The cupcake with the frosting the exact same shades as her mane. She looked over at her hat, from which the sounds of foals laughing and singing could be faintly heard.
“Pinkie, where did you get the cupcake from?” Rarity asked.
“Well I told you I couldn’t get one from anywhere, and I couldn’t make one, so I did the next best thing, and borrowed one!” Pinkie replied.
“From where?” Twilight demanded.
Pinkie Pie looked away with a slight smidgen of guilt. “Kinda-sorta the past,” she said in a low voice.
Trixie reached out a hoof and gingerly lifted up the edge of her hat. Inside, she could see a filly’s birthday party in full swing, and an awestruck tiny version of herself adorned with a cute white bow around her neck looking wildly about her.
“Beatrix, did you see where that cupcake went?” the group heard a matronly voice ask from within the hat.
“I...I must have made it disappear with my magic!” the mini-Trixie inside the hat exclaimed.
Rarity fainted. Twilight and Fluttershy froze, just completely froze in place. Rainbow, Applejack and Spike preserved their sanity by vehemently denying to themselves the evidence of their senses. And Pinkie Pie leaned in to take a bite of Trixie’s cupcake, which was simultaneously eleven years old and freshly made.
Trixie blinked five times in rapid succession. “Well then!” she exclaimed, completely recovered. “Trixie’s next course of action seems clear: Trixie needs to make as many friends as Trixie can handle, and ultimate power will then be Trixie’s. Believe it or not, Trixie is actually quite experienced in the art of making friends. The trick, of course, will be in keeping them as friends longer than the time it takes to borrow the rent money and skip town...”
“Trixie,” Twilight said wearily, having just completed her own mental reboot, “real friendship doesn’t work that way.”
“Says you!” Trixie exclaimed. “The secret of a good friendship is sincerity. Fake that, and it’s like a continually-compounding savings account. So, even though our instruction appears to have ended, Trixie is still holding to our terms, about helping with the fan mail in return for free room and board. After all, Trixie plans to stay in the friendliest town in Equestria for quite some time! See ya later, Princess!” And with that, she raced out of the castle and back along the path that lead to Ponyville.
“Spike,” Twilight said in a clear voice, “take a letter. Dear Princess Celestia...” She then took her hoof, and slammed it into her forehead.
“Facehoof,” Spike said solemnly, writing the word on the parchment and sending it on its way.
Author's Note
So, do I actually believe in Twilight's Friendship Effect? Well, yes, but only to a point--it's pretty easy to poke holes in the theory if you think about it for too long.
But it's sure fun to use in a comedy, isn't it?
This one-shot was inspired by "Trixcord" by RTStephens. That story had a scene where Twilight was trying to appeal to Trixie to change her ways. I thought up this argument as a rather cynical way to sway her to the side of Friendship. Needless to say, RTStephens went in a different direction, which was perfectly fine, but since I had gone to all the trouble of coming up with this elaborate theory, I decided to add the extra effort to make it stand on its own.
