Tyranny of Pollux.

Trixie raised a small, shaking hoof and pulled back the curtains just enough to see the small crowd of ponies taking their seats on the other side With a muffled gasp, she retracted her hoof, stepping back from the stage.

“What’s wrong, Trixie?” An aged, pale blue mare leaned down to peek at the filly, wrinkled face etched in concern. “Stage fright?”

Tears welled in her eyes as she nodded and sat on her rear, hooves wrapping around the mare’s forearm. “I… I’m a quiet pony. I don’t know what to say to them! What if I say something wrong and they get mad at me?” She shivered, lower lip quivering as she looked into the eyes of her mother. “I can’t do it!” Trixie yelped, shaking her head in denial.

“Shhh.” The mare stroked the back of Trixie’s head with a gentle hoof. “You will do wonderfully. I’ve heard you when you read to yourself.” She hummed, a faint smile on her muzzle. “You get so excited, so focused that you don’t notice anything going on around you.”

The filly bit her lip, ears flattening against her head as she stared up, nervously. “I don’t know…” she mumbled, voice trailing off.

“Don’t think of them as an audience. Or judges. They’re readers.”

Trixie scrunched her face, giggling despite herself. “That doesn’t make any sense! This is a play, not a book.”

“Yes and no. A play and a book, it’s the same thing. A story. And that’s what you are when you’re on stage, Trixie. You’re not an actor, you’re an open book. It isn’t you they see, it’s the characters you portray. As a book, you must be bold as ink on paper, as confident as the reader, for each word is predetermined.” The mare paused, looking thoughtful. “And as each word is predetermined, whether they like or hate the story doesn’t matter. What matters is that it comes to the proper conclusion.”

“Mmh.” Trixie cocked her head, eyes crossing as she processed the larger words. “So… I’m the book, and they’re the readers? So I can do whatever I want? And everything will be fine?”

“Just as long as it’s good.” The mare gave a light chuckle. “If the story is good, and you play your role on the stage well, everything will go as it should. And, Trixie, I know that you will do both, so, get out there and show the town what you can do.”

With a sniffle, Trixie nodded and rubbed her eyes. With newfound determination, she detached herself from her mother’s leg and trotted her way to the stage, hooves thudding against the wooden planks with each shaking step.

Okay Trixie. Bold as ink… You can do this.

Her horn glowed as the curtains pulled back, revealing a mass of ponies seated on makeshift wooden chairs. Their gazes collectively turned to the smirking filly that stood center stage, her limbs still shivering ever so slightly. Her eyes shut themselves to block out the stares as she turned her thoughts inward.

I’m not me. I’m just a character, a narrator…

She nodded, opening her eyes. Trixie’s hooves planted firmly against the stage as her muzzle twisted into a confident grin, eyes upon her audience as her attention fixated on her internalized script. Her horn lit up, to no apparent result, as she started to pace the stage, eyes still fixed on the audience, oblivious to the occasional mutter or giggle.

“Welcome!” she shouted, voice nearly cracking as she scrolled through her mental script. “To the first storytelling of…” She paused, breath held.I’m me… But not me. I feel so powerful… so great and strong. I’m writing the story. Trixie is writing it, instead of being the reader! “The great and powerful Trixie!”

Mutters of disbelief floated over the crowd as Trixie stepped forward. “And today, with my magic and props, the great and powerful Trixie will retell the best story ever told!” She wriggled, giggling despite herself. “The adventures of Daring Do! The hunt for the albino manticore!”

Her horn continued to glow as she raised to her hind legs. Alright… this is it. Trixie opened her mouth, only to be cut off by a loud rumble. With a gasp, she looked up as the sky exploded into a rainbow of colors, the trees swaying as the force of the approaching corona of rainbow-colored light blasted over the stage. Her glowing horn reacted violently, nearly blinding her as sparks erupted from the tip. The magical aura surged out, expanding along her horn and enveloping the filly’s body.

Trixie shivered, looking around with panicked eyes as her magic turned against her. This isn’t part of the story! Several members of the audience stood, screaming, as trees were torn from the surrounding forest. A massive manticore with snow white fur stepped out from the newly-formed gaps, a snarl on its muzzle, pale pink eyes locked in an expression of untamed fury.

With the massive creature in sight, the audience immediately flung themselves from their seats, pushing against each other as they retreated from the path of the rampaging beast. The manticore stood on its hind legs, letting out an ear piercing-roar before kicking off and sprinting towards the stage, stomping chairs into splinters under its massive paws as ponies scurried away.

Trixie’s eyes widened, her lip quivering as a squeal died in her throat, her mind becoming blank as she stared into the manticore’s pink eyes. With a bounding leap, it snarled, claws extended as it pounced at the stage.

I… I. I don’t want to die!

Out of the corner of Trixie’s eye, a light gold blur zipped past the manticore. With a yelp, Trixie felt strong hooves wrap around her torso as she was tackled away from the collapsing stage. Her horn fizzled out in response. As Trixie’s body cleared the manticore’s path, she glanced over the shoulder of the flying Pegasus carrying her, and saw a faint glow of light as her cutie mark formed. Above it, on the flank of her savior, a more familiar cutie mark sat.

Daring Do!

“Breakfast is ready in five, miss!” a cheerful, feminine voice rang through the small, dusty room, drawing a muffled groan from an unorganized mess of blankets and pillows.

Trixie stretched. Her unkempt, dirt-caked mane flopped over her face as she slowly rolled out of bed, ignoring the creaking mattress.

Her hooves buckled as she hit the wooden floorboards, collapsing in an undignified heap. Unfazed, she stared at the cracked planks.

What was with that dream? Why now?

Trixie slowly drew herself back up to a standing position, her ribs showing through her coat.

Was it the Mare of the Moon? No, she’d be more direct.

“Excuse me miss, are you okay? I heard a noise.” The door slid open, revealing a rather feminine, white-coated, teenage colt, bubblegum pink mane held up in a ponytail.

You idiot. Can’t you see I’m trying to think!?

“Trixie is fine.” she murmured, running a hoof through her tangled mane, her eyes scanning the simple, lightly-furnished room, eventually settling on the locked journal that sat on the nightstand next to her bed.

“If you say so.” The colt fidgeted, tail flicking from side to side. “Um, breakfast is going to be ready in a couple minutes. If you don’t mind coming downstairs, we can get you seated.”

That book. Starswirl’s journal. I still need to get it open. Trixie grimaced, her ears flattening as she rubbed a hoof against her barrel, over her heart. Preferably while I can still walk.

She stepped forward, hoof extending to the ancient tome.

“Er, excuse me, miss? Are you coming?” The colt nudged the door open slightly further with his muzzle as he peeked into the room. “Dad won’t let you skip out on breakfast, since you already paid for it… So...”

Trixie’s stomach groaned in response, drawing her from her thoughts as she paused, hoof inches away from the tome. “Fine.”

With a grin, the colt nodded. “Right this way, miss!” With a flick of his tail, the colt disappeared from view.

Trixie followed behind, each step uneasy and awkward as her tired limbs slowly roused themselves to a vague sense of coordination. As she slipped from her room, her horn glowed briefly, the door shutting itself in response.

“Dad made chocolate chip pancakes. I bet you must be dying for a filling meal after all that time on the road, right?” the colt chattered with a quivering voice, his bare hips swaying slightly as he walked down the staircase.

Blank flank.

“That explains it,” Trixie mumbled to herself, ignoring her aching limbs as she followed behind.

The colt stepped down from the staircase to the main lobby of the modest motel. His hooves creaked against the simple wooden floors with each bounding step. Trixie followed close behind, with noticeably less enthusiasm.

Trixie raised her head as the colt shoved open the plain door leading to the kitchen. “Hey there, Trixie! Red!” The massive gray stallion stood up, cobalt tail flicking as he nodded to pancake-laden plates.

“Hey, Dad!” Red grinned as he smoothly slid into the chair next to his father, glancing down at his breakfast. “I was just waking up Trixie.”

With a disapproving frown, the stallion gave Red a light smack on the back of the head. “What did I tell you about harassing our customers? If she wanted to sleep, you should let her sleep.” He fixed his eyes on Trixie as Red pouted his cheeks and looked to the side. “Sorry about my son. He doesn’t know his role in society yet. Please, have a seat.” He motioned to a chair that Trixie proceeded to slide into.

“Thanks,” Trixie replied simply, staring down her muzzle at her meal as her stomach grumbled in expectation.

“So, what brings you to these parts, Trixie?” The stallion glanced at her before stuffing his mouth with a forkful of pancake. “We don’t get many travellers, around here.”

None of your business.

“Trixie is simply passing through.” Her horn glowed as she levitated her knife and fork over her plate.

“Where to?” the stallion replied, unfazed.

Trixie paused, fork halfway to her mouth. “Canterlot,” she answered curtly, stuffing the pancake into her mouth.

“Geez.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s a lot of distance to cover on hoof. Especially for a young filly like yourself.”

“I’m sixteen,” Trixie mumbled, glancing away from the stallion to watch Red devour his meal with gusto.

“Aye, like I said, it’s a lot of distance to cover on hoof for a young filly like yourself. Pit stops are few and far between. Ya won’t be able to manage the journey on your own.” His hoof thumped down on the table hard enough to make the wood splinter. Trixie jumped in her seat, head snapping back to meet his gaze.

“And I won’t tolerate seeing some young runaway dying on the road because of your ego.” He pointed his fork at her, lightly jabbing it into her muzzle as she recoiled. “I’m not your father, so it’s not my place to tell you how to live your life, but this is Equestria. In Equestria, we ponies look out for one another.” He slowly lowered his fork, ignoring Trixie’s indignant glare as she rubbed her muzzle. “So, here’s what’s going to happen. I’ve got a carriage outside, fully furnished. Good condition. I’m going to sell it to you for three hundred bits, and you’re not gonna die in the approachin’ winter. Got it?”

Hypocrisy. Trixie snorted, biting her bottom lip. Blackmailing me into buying his garbage, while sitting there and stroking his own ego under the pretence of benevolence and harmony. This pretentious… But, he’s right about one thing. I need his carriage.

“Dad! You said I could have it when I grew up!” Red pouted, looking indignant.

“By the time you grow up, I’ll have enough money to buy you a new one,” His father replied, before looking back at Trixie. “Three hundred bits is more than fair for a furnished carriage.”

Trixie closed her eyes, their words falling on deaf ears as she lost herself in her thoughts.

I can’t haggle. Not with this… this… ugh. I suppose there’s only one thing to do about it then.

Trixie’s eyes opened, a small frown on her lips. “Three hundred bits? For a mundane traveler, certainly. But you’re not selling to a normal traveler. You’re selling to the great and powerful Trixie! A well-known and respected storyteller and performer from the town of Hollow Shades.” She stroked her tangled mane into somewhat less of a mess as her frown shifted into a confident smirk. “The way Trixie sees it, the free advertisement you’d get from Trixie’s generous mentions of your inn would bring you far, far more than three hundred bits. Two hundred is more than enough to cover the costs of your unused carriage for the brief period between my departure and the customers you’ll get from my next show!”

“Hmm.” The stallion stroked his chin. “I don’t know. Relying on word of mouth doesn’t seem very reliable.”

Red squealed. “You’re the great and powerful Trixie? I’ve never gotten to see your shows, but I’ve heard a lot about you!” Red nodded and grinned, leaning over the table. “Are you going to Canterlot for a show?”

What are you playing at, Red?

“Trixie is, indeed! I’ll amaze them with my adventures through the wilderness of Equestria!” She grinned. “It’ll be the best show they ever see.”

The stallion glanced at his son, eyebrow raised. “Where did you hear of her?”

“Pfft. Everywhere, Dad.” Red rolled his eyes. “You’re so out of touch.”

“Hm. I see.” He looked over Trixie as if seeing her for the first time. “Well, if Red can vouch for ya, I see no reason to decline.” With a curt nod he pushes himself from the table and stands up. “I’ll get the carriage prepped for you, then.” The aging stallion grunted as he slipped from his chair and walked out of the room.

Trixie and Red’s ears perked up, following the sound of his fading hoofsteps as he slipped out of earshot.

“What do you want?” Trixie mumbled, her smirk falling back down to a look of tired apathy.

“Whatcha’ mean?” Red tilted his head. “I’m just helping out a friend.” He offered a cheerful smile as he nibbled at a forkful of pancake.

“We’re not friends, and I don’t like having my time wasted. Why did you lie?”

Red blushed lightly, fidgeting in his seat as his ears lowered in submission. “Well, I was hoping you would take me with you.”

“No.” Trixie replied without hesitation, dropping her fork onto her plate. “Trixie doesn’t need anyone for travelling or anything. Ever.”

“We could be friends~?” Red offered a hopeful grin. “Come on! I helped you get the carriage! I’m already holding my weight! Once we get on the road, I can find new ways to help you out.”

“No,” Trixie repeated, shaking her head as she slipped off her chair. “Besides, I know what I need, and you can’t help me get it.” With a dismissive flick of her tail, she trotted out of the kitchen, leaving the colt behind. Wasting no time, Trixie trotted across the hall, and back up the stairs. Huffing quietly, she pulled open the wooden door and stepped inside.

“How was breakfast, kid?” Daring hummed, laying on her back on the bed, a textbook held in her hooves.

“Fine,” Trixie mumbled, walking past the Pegasus to grab her saddlebags from the corner.

“You know, you were a lot more fun before you decided to become an angsty teenager,” Daring noted amiably as she turned a page.

“I’m not angsty!” Trixie snapped, horn glowing as her saddlebags levitated down onto her back.

“You know what? You’re right, I’m sorry.” Daring closed the book, rolling over onto her belly as she stared into Trixie’s eyes. “You’re not some angsty, conceited teenager. You’re just an incredibly capable Unicorn, who’s confident in your own abilities, jaded, and live in a world where no one understands you.”

“Exactly.” Trixie rolled her eyes. “Ponies are all caught up in their own little fantasies, unable to see the big picture.”

“Mmm, there’s a word for ponies like you. But I can’t quite remember.” Daring tapped her pith hat, adopting a quizzical expression. “Do you?”

Trixie opened her mouth, then frowned, followed by a severe glare. “I hate you.”

“Oh, so you admit it then?” Daring gave a slow clap of her hooves. “Congratulations, you’re almost a real adult.”

With a snarl, Trixie grabbed the book from the bed and slammed it down on Daring’s head. “I admit you’re manipulative, and play excessive mind games. All in a poor attempt at sounding clever.” With an annoyed huff, she turned around, dropping the book into her saddlebag. “At least act like the Daring Do from the books.”

Daring Do grabbed the sides of her head, her eyes spinning as she adjusted her hat. “Mm. The Daring Do from the books? Can’t do that one, sorry.”

Trixie grabbed Starswirl’s journal off of the nightstand and inserted it into her bags, not bothering to make eye contact. “And why is that?”

“Well, in my adventures, I was dealing with bad guys.” Daring Do hovered above the bed, wings flapping as she made a few jabbing motions with her forearms. “Normal ponies, corporate dicks, more bad guys… ignorant tribalists, stuff like that. I didn’t have any friends, or people I cared about.”

Trixie snorted, scanning the room for any missed belongings. “You have a weird way of showing affection.”

“Eh.” Daring gave off a dismissive wave of her hoof. “So, the fastest, strongest, most clever, celebrated, and experienced Pegasus in the world has some flaws, like being bad at relationships. At least I can acknowledge my faults.”

With a roll of her eyes, Trixie brushed past, heading to the door. “And you call me conceited.” Raising her hoof, she reached for the doorknob, only for the door itself to swing open, Red standing on the other side, trying to peek over Trixie’s shoulder.

“Who are you talking to?” Red inquired suspiciously, as he stepped into the mostly empty room.

“You, apparently,” Trixie replied blankly.

“No!” Red glanced across the room, noting nothing but dust and wooden furniture. “You were talking to someone else.” He glanced back. “So, you lied when you said you travel alone.”

Trixie shrugged. “And who would I be talking to then? It’s just the two of us here.”

“You talked to her, didn’t you? Did she say anything about me? About Dad?” Red grabbed Trixie’s shoulders, eyes growing wide with panic.

What?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now let go of me,” Trixie responded as she leaned back, her horn lighting up.

“No, no, you don’t understand! This inn isn’t normal. Half of the reason we have no guests is because this place is haunted!” Red nearly screamed, hooves shaking Trixie’s shoulders with each word.

Trixie’s eyes shifted behind Red, as the blankets levitated over the colt under the guidance of her magic. Without a word, the bedding plopped down over the colt and wrapped around him, tying itself into a squirming, flailing ball. Trixie’s horn quieted as she unceremoniously dropped the bound colt on the floor and left the room, walking down the stairs.

“Ya know, I don’t think the kid was lying. I mean, it’s probably not haunted, but there’s probably some mystery here,” Daring Do pointed out as she hovered behind Trixie.

“Don’t care,” Trixie replied. “I’m not a hero, or adventurer. I’m a bard. I tell stories, I don’t resolve them.”

“Aw, come on, where’s your sense of adventure? We could investigate, solve the mystery, get a bunch of money, and have a lot of fun doing it.” Daring Do flew ahead, flying just in front of Trixie. “What do you say? It’ll make the trip a lot easier.”

“I have more important things to do than chase after ghosts like mom.” Trixie stepped off the staircase, and trotted off, not looking behind as she departed the inn.

Daring sighed, waving a hoof in her direction. “Or we can go through an exhilarating experience of futility.” She shook her head, flying after her companion. “Teenagers.”

Trixie shielded her eyes briefly as she stepped out of the dimly lit Inn into the sunlight. Aged leaves crumpled under her hooves, the simple dirt road only barely definable from the surrounding forest as the autumn wind forced the leaves to dance along the ground like marionettes.

A shrill whistle caught Trixie’s attention, her head darting to the left where Red’s father was waving down the road, large wooden carriage being pulled behind him. “She’s a beauty, ain’t she? Almost an antique,” he called out as he trotted over, the carriage being pulled along behind him.

“Mmm.” Trixie ignored the stallion, cocking her head as she slowly paced around the carriage in a circle. The weather-worn wood blended in nearly perfectly with the browns and oranges of the autumn leaves that brushed against its wheels. Stepping out behind the carriage, a simple, windowless wooden door sat on the back of the modest vehicle.

Save for the door. Trixie’s eyes scanned the sides of the carriage again, frowning. The entire thing is made from one piece of wood?

“I was thinking… the craftsmanship is quite impressive. They don’t make’em like this anymore, ya know?” The stallion queried, licking his lips as he eyed Trixie’s saddlebags.

“You do realize I’m a performer?” Trixie responded, not bothering to make eye contact as her horn ignited with a faint glow. “A carriage of this size, without a pop-out stage… it’s nearly useless to someone like me.” Trixie’s left saddlebag opened, a small bulging bag floating from it.

Besides, this is all the money I have, you greedy, hypocritical, dirt-muzzled…

“Ahem,” he coughed, interrupting her thoughts. “Well, you have a point there, miss.” He nodded, reaching over and grabbing the bag in his mouth. Then with a nod, turned around. “Pleashure doin’ bushiness!”

Trixie watched him trot back into the inn, closing the front door behind him. Finally. With a huff, Trixie walked in front of the carriage, and stared intently at the awaiting harness, her stomach gurgling in response.

“Starting to regret not eating?” Daring Do queried, sitting on top of the carriage, tilting her head.

“Why? What’s the worst that would happen? Dying?” Trixie snorted. “I just need to figure out how to set up some sort of spell to move it.”

“Alternatively, you could just ask for help.” Daring tapped the wooden roof, then pointed down at the harness as she rolled onto her side. “This little thing? I can carry it around for weeks. I could fly with it and not even notice. Since, ya know, I don’t starve myself half to death just to avoid having to talk to ponies.”

“Fine.” Trixie waved a hoof. “Let’s get going then.”

Daring simply stared expectantly in response.

“If you want to help me, then help me, I’m not going to play games and beg to feed your ego.” With a shrug, Trixie turned around, and started down the dirt road.

“You’re so overly dramatic,” Daring mumbled to herself as she hopped off the carriage, idly putting the harness on herself, clicking it in place over her torso. Daring watched Trixie walk for a moment, the corners of her lips twitching into a small smile before she started trotting, the carriage momentarily creaking as it rolled along behind the pair.