Breathing Exercises for Failed Performers
Breathe.
In and out.
Concentrate.
Don't think.
Just breathe.
Don't worry about Twilight. Don't concern yourself with failure.
Breathe.
I clench my teeth. The illusion I created in front of me cracks and dissolves like drops of water, falling to the floor. For An instant, I see the illusion of a mare with light blue coat, silver mane, and blue eyes, piercing my soul with her magic.
They used to be my eyes.
It's funny what failure does to ponies. I could complain about my former success in show business, how my act swept my fame through Equestria high and low; but when I think about it, I can't bring myself to care.
A tear slides down my cheeks and hits the ground where the illusion was moments ago.
I don't care.
Right?
I just have to breathe.
I've never been great at some magics. I couldn't make a shield worth a damn, got a rash whenever I teleported, even nearly killed myself a few times trying to use fire magic, nothing worked. I just wasn't good at it.
I wasn't trying so hard because of my parents, they didn't care if I was anything from archmage to construction worker as long as I was happy.
I am happy.
Aren't I?
But there was one magic I found completely by accident. It was when I was looking through the very back shelves of my small town's library when I saw it: a book named Superficial Spells, Illusional Illnesses, and Sights with Sounds
If I saw it now, I might have laughed. But then, I didn't. I picked the book up, sat down right there on the dusty wooden floor and started reading.
The illusion magic described in the book fascinated me. None of the other magic required as much focus and determination to use than it, as their uses were better on the fly. I knew I had to master illusion magic.
I did master illusion magic.
The second illusion I was trying to make cracks and dissolves.
The hard part of illusion magic is that it requires my total focus, which means I can't think about failure.
I can't think about anything.
I close my eyes again.
"Who?"
I open them and turn around. Hanging off a tree branch in the Everfree outside the field I'm training in is an owl, watching me.
He tilts his head to the side. "Who?"
I turn away and close my eyes to concentrate again. I hear the owl flap his wings and feel him land on my back. I turn around to shoo him away but see a note tied with string on his leg. Unfurling it, I read the message inside.
Trixie Lulamoon,
I was very impressed by your show in Appleloosa, I must say.
As such, I'm pleased to offer you a chance at greatness.
I could try to persuade you by saying you could earn money beyond
your wildest dreams or you could become known for your skills all
around Equestria, but I already know I don't need to.
You'll be too tempted to find my identity to resist.
Meet me at the Grand Galloping Gala, tickets enclosed.
I'll know who you are.
Wear something nice.
Regards,
C.T.
The owl flaps away while I stand dumbfounded by the message.
C.T.?
What job?
Why the Grand Galloping Gala?
I can feel the questions flicker in and out in my mind as I search for the answers. From what I can gather, somepony with the initials C.T. saw my show in Appleloosa and liked it, so that pony hired me for a job at the Grand Galloping Gala. Fair enough so far, it's a performers dream. But there's too much wrong with the message for it to be just that. If I were hired for an official job, I'd have been contacted directly, not sent a message by owl and it would have outlined my job exactly. Besides that, there's this bit about finding the pony's identity. It's too shifty. Any normal pony would turn it down.
I wonder what I'll wear?
I laugh and trot away, eventually reaching the train station and taking the train on my way to Ponyville.
~***~
I trot around the Gala, at first with wonder and interest, then with boredom. I trot by the two ponies having a fight over what the mare wore, supposedly in silent whispers to each other. I trot by the Wonderbolts wearing stale smiles and itching wings like they'd rather be anywhere but here. I even trot by the dance hall, where a familiar looking pony tries futilely to start someone actually dancing.
After trotting around for almost two hours, I lean against the outside balcony railing and line up everything I know about the Gala in a neat row. Then I get bored again and just think of the Gala.
The Gala confuses me. It might be one thing if I were a pegasus, the Wonderbolts are here so I'd probably be overjoyed at my chance to see them. If I were a lover of classical music, I'd love to listen in the ballroom. If I were a socialite, I'd shake hooves with each of the Canterlot bigwigs. But I'm none of these things.
What's here for me?
As if in answer, I see a glittery blue dress in the corner of my eye. Turning, I see attached to the dress is an earth pony mare with a yellow coat and orange mane. She's beautiful, there's no denying that. Her mane is rolled up into a bun on the top of her head and her smile seems to flood the air in the open balcony.
'I wonder who she is', is the only thing I can think until I find myself right beside her and introducing myself. "The Great and Powerful Trixie would like to make your acquaintance."
She laughs. "Oh? And who would that be?"
Her voice warms the back of my neck. It has no edge, no sharpness or hardness, but a tenderness like it's hardly used except on special occasions.
I smile, trying to keep breathing. "I am the Great and Powerful Trixie."
If I thought I could have made a halfway convincing lightning bolt just then, I might have tried. Fortunately, my confidence in my abilities hasn't recovered much since Twilight humiliated me.
She makes a small curtsy. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Trixie. I'm Carrot Top, the not so great and powerful farmpony. So what brings you to this party? The Wonderbolts?"
Hang on. What am I going to say? I think 'mysterious note delivered by owl' sounds odd. Don't be odd.
"Business, actually. I'm a performer," I was a performer, "and I was invited by somepony who's considering hiring me."
As far as white lies go, this one isn't so bad. It's semi-plausible and almost all of it's true. I was a performer and I am here on business because somepony wants to hire me. Whether it's for a performance is left to doubt for now.
"Who is it? Maybe I know them."
Well, then there's that; I don't know who the pony is. I can't tell her the pony is 'C.T.' because that's suspicious.
Think of something, Trixie. Think of something. Don't freak out, just breathe. "City. His name is City Street." Brilliant.
She thinks for a minute. "Nope. Doesn't ring a bell. Too bad. I'm here on business as well."
Now that's suspicious.
"Business? What's yours?"
She started trotting forward, looking out into Canterlot and beyond. "Mine's with a pony named 'C.T.'; clearly not the same as that 'City' you're looking for."
I gulp. Right. Okay.
She laughs. "So I was right, then? Worth a shot, but I wasn't sure I was right."
I chuckle, embarrassed. "So do you know what the job is?"
She shakes her head. "No idea. No clue why they need a performer and a farmpony for it, either."
A beautiful farmpony and a failed performer walk into a gala; sounds like the beginning of a joke.
She unravels the bun she kept her mane in and lets it fall down and get caught in the breeze, turning to me. "Guess we'll have to wait and see."
I nod.
I wonder what the punchline is.
Author's Note
Thank you for reading.
Breathing Exercises for Failed Performers
Standing with Carrot Top, it didn't seem like C.T. would show at all. The Gala was already more than halfway done and there wasn't any sign of C.T.
It was only when I had completely given up on finding C.T.'s identity and slumped over the railing that I saw C.T.'s preferred means of contact: a scroll, neatly typed, and a bit condescending.
Congratulations!
If you're reading this, it means you've passed the first test and can move on to the next step. Once I see somepony has found this note, it will be promptly removed once you set it back down which means that you are quite alone in passing this test. If you want the job, then it's yours.
The job itself is fairly simple: nearly all of Canterlot including Celestia is at this Gala and the royal guards are running on a skeleton crew. There's a bag of very particular powder in one of the castle vaults. Find the powder, deliver it to the Topiary Garden before the Gala is over, and you've passed the second test.
You'll be paid handsomely for your services and we'll move forward from there.
If you're reading this sometime late in the Gala's proceedings, I'd suggest moving swiftly. Failure to complete the test or completing the test once the Gala is over will result in you losing all contact with me and without anypony else to blame, the crime will rest on your hooves.
In any case, relax. Most ponies don't do their best work under pressure.
C.T.
Carrot Top and I read the letter together, huddled close so nopony else can see it. I can feel her heart through her dress and coat; it feels like it's pumping warmth through me. I slide back into focus, unwillingly.
Before the Gala ends?
What's the powder?
How the hay are we supposed to know what vault the powder's in?
What is C.T. testing us for?
Carrot top slips the scroll back into its place, attached to a string and hanging off the balcony. She starts trotting away but then turns around. "You coming, Trixie? We both passed the test, no matter what the scroll says."
I snap out of my loop of unanswerable questions when she leaves my side. "You're going to follow through with this?"
She shrugs. "Sure. I'm here, so obviously I have nothing better to do and Derpy's taking care of my farm today. Shouldn't be too hard, anyway. There are hardly any guards around, we'll be in and out."
Derpy?
I trot next to her, through the main ballroom and exiting into the gardens. "So, Derpy's your..." I trail off.
Carrot Top turns to me, still trotting forward. "My...what? What were you going to say?"
I clear my throat, blushing. "Oh. I was just... I didn't mean anything."
She laughs. "No, really. What were you going to say, I want to know."
I sigh. "I was asking if Derpy's your coltfriend."
She raises an eyebrow. "Well, she's a mare, so that's a no. But before you ask, she's not my marefriend, either. She's a good friend of mine, I've had since I was a filly. That's all."
I nod, trying to keep a level expression and not sigh in relief.
We trot through the garden and in another entrance to the castle, showing our tickets when a guard asks what we're doing there.
We stop in our tracks. The roof rises up far above us and the halls even farther in front of us and behind us. Another two guards stand guarding the stairway to the vaults off to our left. We trot by them until we're out of earshot.
"So, how are we going to get past them?" Carrot Top asks.
How are we going to get past them?
For that matter, how are we going to find which vault contains the powder?
"Unless we ask for directions." I mutter to myself.
That's it: we'll ask for directions.
"What?" She asks.
I trot forward. "I have an idea."
She shrugs and trots next to me, until we stand face to face with the guards.
I smile at one of them. "Excuse me, I was having an argument with this mare here and we were wondering if you could settle it. Basically, we were discussing what the sorting system in the vaults is: I think it's alphabetical, but she thinks it's chronological. We both agree that it might be sorted by the nature of the object. So how are the vaults sorted, can you tell us?"
The guard I'm talking to hesitates and looks over at a much older guard with a white beard and grey coat.
The older guard nods at us. "You guests for the Gala?"
"Yes, that's right." I lift my ticket up with my magic and Carrot Top shows hers.
The younger guards shoulders loosen slightly. "The vaults are actually segregated three ways, one by the nature of the object - magical or nonmagical - two by the composition of the object - solid, semi solid, liquid, or gas - and finally by date. This allows easy management in case the Princesses ever need something from them."
The older guard grunts. "Which is basically never. I think in all the time I've been here, the Princesses have only asked for something from the vault twice, both times for old books they said they needed. Compare that with the amount of times ponies try to steal from the vaults and it makes me wonder what ponies could possibly need in it the Princesses don't."
Subtle hint, there.
I nod with a mask of disappointment. "Darn. So, it's not alphabetical at all. What you're saying is, if I was looking for a magic dust from a thousand years ago, it would be separated into magic, then semi solid, then into artifacts from a thousand years ago?"
They nod. "That's correct."
Excellent.
I make copies of myself and Carrot Top while I hide Carrot Top and I from their vision. I start making the illusory copies trot away from the guard while I pull Carrot Top and I past the guards.
Breathe.
I make it down one step.
Don't think.
Three steps.
Don't fail.
Four steps.
Fail.
Our invisibility cracks and melts away while our copies do the same. The two guards look to the copies for a moment, before figuring out what's going on and starting to run down the stairs. Carrot Top and I barrel down the stairs as fast as I can land each hoof solidly on a step.
I can hear them gallop only a few steps behind us.
Carrot Top suddenly stops and crouches so the first guard trips over her, losing his hoofing and collapsing on the stairs. She headbutts the second guard, then clamps her teeth down on his shoulder before punching him in the face with a hoof again. We gallop down the stairs again, leaving the dazed guards behind us.
We reach the bottom of the stairs, panting.
I look up the stairs, in case I see any sign of the guards returning. "What was that?"
She pulls a ledger of some kind off the shelf in front of us. "What was what?"
She can't be serious.
"What was you just taking out two royal guards? Trixie isn't an expert , but she knows farmponies don't necessarily spend much time in combat."
She laughs. "That wasn't combat. That was trying not to get caught. I was improvising, they were gaining."
I eye her, skeptically. "And the bite? Not many bites can keep a full grown stallion down long enough to hit him in the face."
She opens her mouth, then slams it with a snap. "Trixie, I'm a carrot farmer. I harvest roots from the ground and pull them up with my teeth. Of course I have a strong jaw; you would, too." She looks at my horn. "Okay, technically, you would too if you used your mouth instead of your magic."
What a perfectly reasonable assertion.
So why do I have this nagging feeling I'm missing something?
I nod at her, choosing to ignore the feeling for now. "C.T. really thought this through."
Carrot Top doesn't look up from the vault inventory ledger she's perusing. "Why do you say that?"
"The Gala tickets aren't marked for particular ponies, just examined on arrival. We didn't buy the tickets and they don't say our names, so there's no direct link back to us. The scrolls are sent indirectly, as well. If they see us, they won't know who we are. If we get caught, there's no way they can trace it back to C.T."
"Don't think like that." She lifts up the ledger and points to an entry. "We won't get caught."
I read the entry aloud. "Radirock Powder. Magical in nature and in vault three twenty one. What does it do?"
She shrugs. "If we don't get it, we'll never find out. Gala should be almost finished by now."
We gallop to vault three twenty one, taking the smaller flight of steps up to the third floor of the vaults rather than to the main palace.
We open the vault door and step inside. All manner of powder, dust, and sand were arranged in the small room. Each with its own glass case and each with a label with basic information on it, its name, and a number for easy location.
Right. Easy.
The room was tidy, well kept, and no extraneous dust was left in the room. Everything was perfect.
Except.
There was something that didn't belong in the room. Something different. But I can't place my hoof on it.
Carrot Top goes through the room until she finds a number close to that of the powder. She starts heading closer to the number but I know she won't find anything. I see, where the Radirock powder should be, there's an empty jar with a scroll inside. I use my magic to bring it toward me and unscrew the lid. Carrot Top stands beside me.
I unfurl the scroll.
Excellently done. Not only have you found the location of the powder before the Gala is over, but you saw through the illusion before you could deliver it to the Topiary Garden, I'm quite impressed.
As such, you both have passed the second test.
I must admit, I was surprised when I found that two of you passed the first test but I really should have expected it.
I'll do better next time.
Speaking of next time, your third test is actually in Ponyville. The place one of you lives, and the other avoids.
Your job is to beat Rainbow Dash at a game.
Good luck,
C.T.
Beat Rainbow Dash at a game?
Who the hay is Rainbow Dash?
Author's Note
Boy, I still have no idea how to tag this.
Thank you for reading.
