The Kindness of Strangers
Clank. Scrrrrrtch.
Clank. Scrrrrrtch. Pant… Pant...
“Would...it help...if I said I was sorry?” she managed to gasp out, wheezing nearly every other word even though there was nopony around to hear it. Her lungs were burning from exertion, making her fight to try and catch her breath. She tossed her head back to try and flick her sweat-soaked mane out her face, shuddering as it clung to her skin. All her weight was being supported on her one good foreleg, her hind legs shaking, threatening to buckle at any moment. She couldn’t risk trying to reach up to push the lank strands of hair away, so had to resort to blinking frantically as beads of sweat trickled down to catch in her eyelashes, her eyes stinging.
“Please? Somepony? Is anypony there?” She forced herself to take another few painful steps, every breath rasping in her throat.
Clank. Scrrrrrtch.
Clank. Scrrrrtch…
Clank.
She stumbled to a halt, glaring at that accursed limb that seemed to only grow heavier with every step, dragging her down, sapping her strength. She tried to take another step, tried to make it move but it wouldn't budge. She bit back a frustrated whimper as she heaved desperately at it with her three good legs. Come on, come ON. She couldn’t just stand here forever. She had to keep going! There had to be somepony around, somepony who could help her. They would see she was in trouble and rush to her aid, she was sure. As soon as they saw the Gre…
She cut off that line of thought with an angry snort. No. Not anymore. That pony had died months ago and it was that way of thinking that had lead to her being stuck in her current predicament. Hah. This could almost be funny. If it was happening to somepony else. Something she could point and laugh at. Even as the thought crossed her mind she flinched. No wonder they’d left her. Even now, she’d learned nothing.
“Please,” she whispered, her head hanging, lacking even the strength to lift it up anymore. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of it.”
Scrrrrrt…
She tumbled forward, barely avoiding planting her face in the pavement. As it was she lay there for a second, her jaw aching, head ringing. She turned her head a little, panting raggedly as she stared at the source of her woes, her right foreleg. A magitech marvel of metal and sorcery, it gleamed silver against her pale blue coat. She’d mocked him for it, berated him, demanded to know why he couldn’t make it match the rest of her. She’d never offered him a single kind word.
She closed her eyes, biting down hard on her bottom lip, trying to hold it in, trying to ignore the burning in her chest, the catching in her breath as the sobs tried to break free. He’d taken her in. He’d cared for her, made sure she got the help she needed when the pain was too much, when the magical backlash had threatened to kill her, and when she was well enough he’d fashioned the new leg for her to replace the one she’d lost along with…
Again, the line of thought was savagely dismissed. No. None of this was his fault. He’d warned her not to overdo it, warned her the work was incomplete and imperfect but she wouldn’t listen. She had to be back on the road, she had to try and pick up where she left off. She had a career! Adoring fans! She had…she had...she had nothing. That was the truth of it, the truth she tried to delude herself into ignoring.
She had nothing but lies and boasts, and when he’d got too close to her, when that facade had started to crack, she’d fallen back into the bad old ways; back into the arrogance, the pomposity, the smug superiority. She’d seen the hurt in his eyes as she berated and belittled him, ignored his cries for her to stop as she’d thrown the saddlebags over her back and left without a backward glance.
She was a fool. A stubborn, arrogant fool. She’d learned nothing, nothing at all. Twilight had tried to show her the truth of it, so had her friends. She hadn’t learned her lesson then either. Twice she’d been humiliated at their hooves and each time the defeat had festered inside her, eating at her till she couldn’t stand it any longer. First she’d come back with the Alicorn Amulet and look how that had ended. So drunk with power she couldn’t tell up from down, terrorising an entire town. She’d been lucky not to have ended up thrown in jail or banished.
Even then, even after all that, she still hadn’t learned her lesson. She had to prove them wrong. She had to silence the naysayers, the doubters, the hecklers. She would show them once and for all who really was the greatest and most powerful unicorn in Equestria. She would show them.
And she did.
And the greatest and most powerful unicorn in Equestria...wasn’t her. It would never be her.
Oh, it had started out so promisingly. A feat of magic like nopony had ever dreamed, a spell of such intricacy that it had taken her nearly a year to calculate every facet of it. It was a work of sublime genius, that much could never be taken away from her, but it was hollow comfort.
It had started to go wrong almost immediately.
Sparkle had answered the challenge, as she knew she would. Her little gang of cronies had accompanied her to watch, staring, judging her, silently mocking her with their indulgent little smiles. She’d started the spell full of confidence. So much confidence and arrogance and pride.
Seconds later, there was nothing but fear.
The spell was growing too quickly, spinning out of control. Her magic was draining too fast, the containment wards she’d weaved into the spell matrix already at their limits. She couldn’t stop it.
She closed her eyes, lifting her one good hoof and slamming it down against the ground as the memories threatened to overwhelm her, barely even noticing the tears streaming down her cheeks, her stomach twisting with guilt and fear. She remembered it all. Every. Single. Moment.
She remembered the way their expressions changed. The fear slowly growing in their eyes.
She remembered Twilight Sparkle’s mouth moving. She couldn’t hear what she was saying over the rush of the magic, the roar of the spell desperately trying to break free in a wild, uncontrolled rush of power.
She remembered her horn burning, her head aching. Every breath hurt, even her teeth ached as she clenched her jaw till she feared she might shatter them.
Her eyes met Twilight’s. She saw no anger in them, no accusation or condemnation, just fear. They both knew what would happen if the spell couldn’t be stopped. It would grow, it would feed, it would suck every last drop of magic from her body before it consumed her, and then it would be free to consume Ponyville in a blast of magical energy that would leave little behind but ash. This was wild magic now, a surge that could not be controlled. There was only one thing left to do. The connection had to be cut by any means necessary, before it was too late.
“You know what you have to do!”
“Trixie…”
“Twilight, you have to! Trixie didn’t mean for this! Trixie can’t stop it. You know what will happen if you don’t. You must! Trixie...Trixie always knew it would come down to this, to the two of us.”
She could barely see anything now but the wild magic growing and surging moment to moment, arcane lightning arcing through the air to sear the grass around her, the acrid tang of the smoke catching in her throat. Her eyes were narrowed to slits, the world fading into a haze of swirling pink as the spell crept back now, slowly engulfing the tip of her horn. There were only seconds left.
“TWILIGHT! PLEASE!”
And her world erupted in blinding light and agony.
She’d screamed till they’d sedated her. Every time she woke, she would scream till they sedated her again. Her existence was broken up into moments of blissful nothingness, interspersed with agony like nothing she’d ever dreamed of. She bucked and fought, she swore and she pleaded with them to kill her, to spare her the pain. She screamed till her throat was raw, screamed till all she could do was whimper, then not even that. Still, she screamed. In silence. In pain, in humiliation, in anger and loss.
Twilight had done the only thing she could. She’d severed the source of the spell's power. She’d severed the horn. Trixie’s horn. She’d broken it. The spell had exploded, but Twilight had been able to throw up a shield to contain it and save the town.
The shield had worked. It had contained it. Mostly.
Trixie has been thrown clear of the explosion, but she hadn't escaped unscathed. Twilight Sparkle was one of the most gifted unicorns in Equestria, her spellcasting talents were second to none, but not even she could cast instantly. In the moments before the shield was in place the wild magic had claimed Trixie's right foreleg, searing flesh and bone to ash in an instant, the wound instantly cauterized by the arcane flames. Luckily, that part she didn’t remember, she’d only been told about it afterwards. A long time after, when she could look at the missing parts of her body without sobbing uncontrollably.
Later, HE had come into her life and for a while things had looked up. He’d even returned her leg to her, after a fashion. He’d given her back her independence, given her hope that she still had some kind of future, even without her magic.
And she had thrown it in his face.
Now here she was, face-down on some road in the middle of nowhere. Her magitech leg was a dead weight, the animation enchantment drained, the limb nothing but a useless hunk of metal without it. She couldn’t recharge it herself, with her broken horn even the most basic spells were beyond her now, the world of magic forever locked away without that conduit to tap it.
The Great and Powerful Trixie. She smiled faintly at her conceit. Hah. More like the Weak and Pathetic. She’d tried to hide it, tried to pretend nothing was wrong, that she could go back to the way it was before. Who needed magic? Half her act was just fireworks and sleight of hoof anyway! She didn’t need a horn, she didn’t need magic, everything would be fine. Just fine. It would.
…..
No. Nothing would ever be fine again. She’d been a fool. Such a fool. It served her right if she just lay here until she starved to death. She had no idea if anypony used this road. She wasn’t even sure where she was; she’d been in too much of a hurry to pay attention, taking turn after turn till she was sure he wasn’t coming after her.
She sniffled again, reaching up to pull her hat down over her head to hide her face. Her hoof paused in midair and a ragged sob escaped her lips. She didn’t even have her hat anymore, both the hat and cloak had been destroyed in the blast. She still had the scars along her neck and back where they’d caught fire and seared her before they could be pulled off her.
The tears fell faster now. She couldn’t hold it in, couldn’t hold it back. She curled up around her useless limb and sobbed softly, hot tears pattering down onto the cold metal.
“Trixie is sorry,” she whispered. “Trixie is so sorry. Trixie is…I… I’m such an idiot.”
“You really are.”
For a moment she thought she’d imagined it. She’d dreamt it. She must have. There was just no way he could have found her here. She didn’t dare lift her head up, didn’t dare to hope.
“You really are an idiot, Trixie. But you’re my idiot and you don’t get away that easily.”
She lifted her head, wiping the tears from her eyes as she stared up at him. Her rescuer once again, it seemed. He smiled gently down at her, his brown eyes warm and kind as he carefully helped her up, bracing her against his strong flank.
“Come on. I’ll help you back to the house. Whoa, easy now,” he chuckled as he braced her with one big forehoof. “Baby steps, Trix.”
“Trixie told you not to call her that,” she whispered, without any real conviction.
“Trix told me a lot of things,” he cheerfully replied as he walked slowly alongside her, taking her weight easily against his larger frame. “Luckily for Trix, I ignored almost all of them.”
She shook her head, opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again, looking down in shame. “Trixie is sorry. She didn’t mean...she didn’t mean any of it..”
“I know, Trix. I know this is hard on you.” He turned his head a little to nuzzle her cheek, pushing her mane back even as he wrinkled his nose a little at the smell and taste of sweat. “Phew. How long were you dragging that thing for after the enchantment failed?”
“Two...three miles. Trixie lost track.”
He whistled softly, shaking his head in amazement. “You’re one stubborn mare, Trix, I’ll give you that.”
“Not stubborn enough. Trixie was doing what she always does. She was, I was, running away.”
He didn’t reply to that, concentrating on helping her walk. “I’ve got replacement spellgems charged up back at the shop. We’ll have you walking again in no time.”
“Why? Why are you so kind to Trixie? What did she, I, do to deserve this? I destroy everything I touch, I drive everypony away. My life has been a sham.” She snorted, her voice bitter and angry. “The Great and Powerful Trixie. Such a fool.”
“Maybe. But you aren’t all bad, Trix. You may have been a braggart, a blowhard, a self-obsessed, jumped up-”
“Okay.”
“Spoiled, deluded, vain-”
“OKAY!” She stamped her good hoof and nearly ended up landing facefirst in the dirt again. He grabbed her before she could topple over, a broad grin on his face.
“Trixie could learn to hate you so easily some days,” she muttered as she settled back against him..
“But I’m so charming,” was the quick reply, voice bubbling with amusement.
“Now which of us is the deluded one?”
“Hey, misery loves company.”
“Hate you.”
He smiled as he turned to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, just below the broken stump of her horn. His lips were warm and soft and she couldn’t help the rush of blood to her cheeks that seemed to follow every time he touched her like this. “Hate you too, Trix. Now come on, we’ve got a long walk ahead of us. Next time you feel like running off, don’t run so damn far.”
“Has Trixie mentioned how much she hates you?”
“Every day, Trix. Every day.”
She didn’t try to hide the smile this time. She was everything he said and more, but with his help, she could be something better. She hoped she could be.
She hoped. For the first time in a long time, she hoped.
