Author's Note
Ok, this should be monthly, now that finals are over. I needed a comedy to balance the somewhat dark aspects of my other stories. So, inspired by this YouTube video of Tirek and Trixie, I decided to go off on a wild tangent - especially if that WAS all the magic Tirek could get from Trixie. More as it comes! Also, shipping may happen, but it may not. Dropping things on Trixie's head will be more fun... even though she's injured. 
In which Trixie finds herself abused for my amusement and yours.I will try to make it funny starting in the next chapter or two. 
No Pinkie Promises though... 
1 Feedback
Celestia’s Horn, make it stop!
The pain was driving her mad. She’d collapsed and lay there convulsing, eyes rolled back in her head as the pain flared from her horn tip to her dock. She could feel her mouth working, but wasn’t sure she was making any noise. There was a scrabbling sound , and as her senses came to her, she realized it was the edges of her hooves flailing at the ground. Ground... that's a good thing, right?
“Whoa, there! Are you oka – no, that's a ridiculous question. It's clear something is dreadfully wrong. Do allow me to help you up.”
The headache was fading, and the first thing Trixie saw as her vision cleared were three… no, two blurry images of a smoking wreck of a hat. It had been a round, conical hat of dark purple, covered in gold and blue stars. It was still burning with a familiar green flame, like her fireworks. Ruined. A dapper, older unicorn stallion reached out his hoof and helped her stand, concern on his face. Around her, almost everyone else seemed to have recovered normally. A rust-colored earth pony was hooking herself back up to a pair of massive carts, while two young pegasi fillies took to the skies. Unicorns all around her started levitating debris out of the roadway. Likely from the battle with Tirek, a 20 yard long furrow full of molten stone that had once been one of the gently curving hilltops of Canterlot's Lower West Side seethed and smoked ahead of her. The 'lava' was slowly flowing out of the gouge, and rolling down the far side of the mountain as it started cooling.
But Trixie didn't feel like sightseeing. No, rather, she felt like someone had hit her horn with a ten ton hammer. Repeatedly.
“Thank you,” Trixie replied, shaking her head and blinking as triple images reappeared. Ok, shaking your head is bad still. Stahp. “Is it over?” Looking towards one of the many arched golden bridges, she spotted some blurry double images, a riot of color, seeming to drift in the air behind the rainbow wave as it traveled across Canterlot’s upper towers. And she recognized all four – no, both of them. At least her vision was clearing. Or she was hallucinating. Or both.
“Twilight Sparkle? Rarity?” She shook her head again, painfully, and the visions were gone.
“Quite right. I saw them as well, my dear,” The gentlecolt that hand helped her stand said. “I’ve met them many times, each a delight. Such a small world. And it appears they have saved it once more.” A slim, elegant unicorn mare slid up next to the gentlecolt.
“My, my, Fancy – is this another of Rarity’s friends?”
Trixie shook her head no, only to immediately regret it again. “Trixie wouldn’t go that far. But Trixie has ran into them before.” Cobwebs, metal and a strange taste in her mouth… does ‘puce’ even have a flavor? She was amazed she was still standing.
The older couple looked at each other and nodded, “Well, you seem to have suffered a magical surge,” the gentlecolt mused. “I suspect that rainbow of light restored everyone’s magic. Maybe you just weren’t ready for your powers to be restored? That’s the sort of thing you should see somepony in the magical medicine field about.” As he went through a small bag, his graceful companion examined the smoldering remains of the hat, and then looked up from it to the smoking trench in the hillside, only to shake her head ruefully at the damage.
“Irreparable. A shame, it looked quite unique…”
“It…was.”
“Here, take this card. It’s a nearby clinic. And give them *my* card as well, they should take care of you.”
“Um, thank you,” the Groggy and Miserable Trixie glanced at the card, managing to make out the largest of the letters,“Mr. Fancy Pants. It’s probably a very good idea.”
“Oh, Fancy, the poor dear can’t even see straight. Let’s take her there. It’s not far out of our way.”
The flames finished with the hat as the trio slowly moved away.
Trixie gritted her teeth as the tests went on. She found that in addition to blowing her hat off, she had a fine layer of soot over her horn and all over her face, which no one had mentioned yet. It was rapidly determined that she had somehow channeled an overload of magic into a fireworks spell that was only 68% illusion and about 66.6% real pyromancy. She knew the fancy mathematics would add up if the spell formula was visualized 4-dimensionally, but the gist of it was that she was lucky her horn hadn’t launched off her head like a rocket and left her skeleton in a smoking crater.
None of that explained why the same magical ratings tests had been performed a dozen times. Finally, the doctor came in and pushed his glasses up with his hoof.
“Miss Lulamoon, you had an R-Type, magnitude 8 magical flare. It’s, frankly, one of the few reliably reproducible ways to make a pony explode - once. How you survived it is quite beyond me. However, it’s clear that you’ve damaged your horn in the process, and that’s why you’re having headaches. Then the doctor adjusted his chart, “More importantly, we were unable to get a verifiable reading of your magic level. We suspect our manameter is faulty, since it locks up when we try scanning you. In fact, it hasn’t worked right all afternoon.
“Now, there’s a choice to make. You’ll need to either have a magic inhibitor ring placed on your horn for at least 2 months, or risk forever losing your magical abilities. If you over-stress your horn’s structure any more, it has a VERY high probability of ‘burn out’, leaving you with no unicorn magic AT ALL. The inhibitor ring will allow the horn to heal, but take you back to filly-level, limited magic. I’m talking Starswirl’s Primer stuff, like levitating no more than 5 lbs, casting light spells, and so forth. The rest of your power will go into a healing spell, helping to restore you. It’s guaranteed to restore you, and will also get rid of the headache caused by the harmonic dissonance between your magic and your horn. It will also make you a little drowsy all the time.”
Trixie blinked, slowly. "So, 2 months with no magic at all, and a limited workload with a guarantee at the end – or a constant headache and the risk of permanent loss of magic with every spell Trixie casts? Doctor Charts, The Great and Powerful Trixie is a traveling magician. How would Trixie make a living without magic?”
“That’s a difficult question. Look into work you can do without using a lot of magic. You are in good health otherwise. There’s no real limits there.”
Trixie tried to mull it over, but every time she closed her eyes to have a serious think about it, a hammering inside her head transformed her skull into an anvil at a blacksmith convention. She wondered if it would ever stop.
“How soon can Trixie get that ring?”
Once at the clinic, Fancy Pants saw to it that the disoriented mare was checked in. Magical surges occurred in young unicorn fillies and colts all the time, but it was rare indeed that an adult unicorn would suffer from one, especially one powerful enough to melt Canterlot granite. He had SEEN the bolt of raw plasma the pale blue unicorn had launched, and she was quite lucky to have not simply exploded from channeling that power. Having aided ‘Trixie’, as she had given her name, the couple returned to the business of trying to restore normalcy to Canterlot, passing by a faded series of posters on the wall to his right.
He continued for exactly three cantering paces before his mind connected the dots, and stopped so hard his horseshoes threw up sparks. His wife, Fleur, heard his sudden stop, and slowed down to a walk as she gave a curious look back at him
It was an old, tattered ‘Missing’ poster for ‘The Great and Powerful’ Trixie, urging anyone who had seen her to contact Princess Twilight Sparkle, giving several means to do so at the bottom of the poster.
“Oh, myyyyyy….”
“Twilight, you have a letter from Canterlot.” Spike waddled into the library importantly, holding the elegant envelope over his head. “It looks important, and was mailed overnight, rush delivery.”
“Thanks, Spike, I’ll check it out in a moment. Put it over there. Then help me get these things ready,” Princess Twilight Sparkle gazed around the vast crystal room where row after row of bookshelves were going up. “We have our first shipment of books coming from Canterlot tomorrow.”
Later, the lavender librarian lifted the letter languidly after lunch. “So, who…. Ohmygosh!”
“You sound like Rainbow Dash did when meeting A. K. Yearling,” Spike chuckled. “Is it a math problem? A magic problem? A friendship problem?”
Twilight took a deep breath, and brought her hoof to her chest. Spike knew better than to interrupt the ritual, as Twilight calmed down and began to read.
To the honorable Princess of Friendship;
Felicitations. I regret that I am unable to contact you using a swifter means, but I have encountered someone you were seeking recently. Considering your history as a student of the arcane arts – at which we have had only limited time to discuss, regretfully – I believe this is a situation you may wish to investigate.
I have encountered a young mare by the name of ‘Trixie’ here in Canterlot under extraordinary circumstances. Immediately after receiving our magic back from that horrid scoundrel Tirek (which I understand you had more than a little to do with, my dear!), I observed her have what could only be described as a magical discharge of unprecedented magnitude. Unlike the rest of us in the area, she was not lying down but rather sitting upright at the moment – a fact that may have saved lives, as the discharge was well over most pony’s heads.
The damage it did to Horseshoe Park here in Canterlot’s South Ward was indicative that everyone is fortunate no pony was, well, incinerated.
She collapsed in pain afterwards, which is actually quite unexpected. Such a surge *should* have vaporized the poor mare. Once she could stand, my wife and I escorted her to the South Ward Arcane Clinic, and arranged for her to be seen to by a Dr. Chart. Once assured she was in good hooves, we left her in their care.
It was on leaving the clinic that I passed by one of your posters regarding ‘The Great and Powerful Trixie’, apparently missing for several months. Thus, I have dispatched this missive, along with photos of the impact of the magical discharge.
I do not know what exactly has occurred, but after seeing the poster I felt I should pass this information on to you. Magic is not my area of expertise, and I do think something very, very odd has occurred with young Miss Trixie. It would be remiss of me to not contact you.
Sincerely,
Fancy Pants, ESQ.
“It’s about Trixie!”
“So it’s just a problem?”
“SPIIIKE!”
Inhibitor rings were a horrible invention, Trixie mused. At least, the ones used on criminal unicorns were. But not the one Trixie sported now.
This one wasn’t made of metal, but expertly carved out of turquoise. Turquoise had healing properties, and promised a much more palatable result. Trixie was no expert in gemology, but she understood the basics, as any well-read magician should.
So it was with relief, rather than trepidation that Trixie allowed Dr. Chart to fit the ring, using a temporary resin to secure it at the base of her horn. The resin would hold the ring in place while the healing spell drew on her ambient, regularly generated magical ability. Also, it could be removed with a commercial cleaner, if needed. The quartz ones – not so much.
“You’ll need to keep this on at all times over the next two months, then either return here, or contact our preferred physician so we can transfer the documents. Personally, I would rather you kept close for a while, considering what happened.” Dr. Charts rose from his chair, and made annotations on the clipboard documents. “There is still an inhibition enchantment on that ring. It shouldn’t cause you pain. Exceed the power of the ring, and you’ll start feeling your headaches return. That’s your best warning you are overexerting. Back off on whatever spellcasting you are attempting at that time, and try to direct excess into the ring instead. Do you have any further questions, Miss Lulamoon?”
Trixie was taking deep breaths as the cooling power of the magic ring eased her pounding head. “No, Dr. Chart, Trix - er, I understand. It’ll be rough, but I will do what I can to make things work. Thank you.” The doctor strode on to his next patient, curious as to the odd case. Still, this sort of over-stress injury did occur, but the magnitude might be wrong. Meanwhile, a brown pegasus in an orderly coat came and escorted Trixie out, finalized her paperwork, and showed her to the lobby, before calling for the next patient.
Trixie cautiously reached for the clinic door with her telekinesis and started swinging it open, but her headache returned. With a groan, she shouldered the door instead, content to turn the knob with her magic. “Well, that’s it, isn’t it? Let’s get back and see what I can still do,” she groused, "Blasted headaches are going to make me late for my show – and it must go on.”
In the clinic, Dr. Chart was examining his next patient, an elderly but still graceful unicorn, mane shot through with gray. “Just my luck, I finally meet a handsome doctor, and he’s younger than my grandson,” the older mare giggled a bit, as the doctor checked her magic with the manameter.
“So, this is working right, guess the maintenance pony was already here,” the young doctor chuckled. “Sorry, Andromeda. You’re still reading normally – spry as a mare a third your age. You’d leave me in the dust.” The doctor was just turning to get his clipboard when there was a knock on the door. “Just a moment…”
Opening the door, Dr. Charts met a gray earth pony mare with a tool harness and crossed lightning bolts as a cutie mark. “Just got back from lunch. You needed me to check the manameter?”
With a very curious expression scrunching his features thoughtfully, Dr. Charts thought over his somewhat strange morning. “So you didn’t get to it already, Short Circuit? It worked just fine, I thought it had been fixed. The meter was pegged all morning, didn’t work on anyone until this patient.”
Short Circuit shook her head, her charcoal mane wafting over her eyes briefly as she broke out a checklist of her own. "Nope, had a list of things to do before lunch. Why would it peg out, though? No pony’s gonna read that high short of one of the Princesses. It was probably just physically stuck. Just let me know if it malfunctions again.”
Author's Note
Probably still not funny, I will keep working on it. May have to change the tags, since i keep coming up with depressing things to do to Trixie.
Twilight Sparkle landed with a little bit more grace than normal for her, transitioning from a glide to a canter before folding her wings. She was still nowhere near the aerialist that Rainbow Dash was, but where Dash was frantic energy, Twilight was discovering that alicorn wings were built for cruising, gliding on thermals, and making long-range flights. Ponyville was only two hours by train from Canterlot, but Twilight Sparkle had learned that she could fly there herself under an hour if she caught the midday thermals and gained altitude first.
She had touched down in Horseshoe Park, the place the letter from Fancy Pants had said he met Trixie. She whistled at the melted groove cut into the hillside, and reached out to check for residual magic. What she perceived was puzzling – it was static, like she was scanning a crowd. Trixie’s arcane signature was there, but it was almost lost in the background noise of thousands of arcane signatures. yep, it was official - something was wrong here.
Twilight spent several minutes interviewing people who had been there, and all the statements she received corroborated the letter from Fancy Pants. Trixie had released a blast almost as fierce as the ones Twilight had used against Tirek in their showdown. Trixie shouldn’t have been able to do that.
Waiting for her, as per her instructions in a letter Spike had sent, was Fancy Pants himself. He waved cordially to Twilight, even as others nearby paused to stare at their latest Princess. “Over here, Princess!” The older stallion waved, and fell in alongside Twilight as they walked. “A grand entrance, my dear. Most splendid.”
“I’m just glad I didn’t land roughly. I tried to issue a royal decree that new wings should come with an instruction manual, but Celestia called it ‘unreasonable’.” The lavender unicorn chuckled, “Besides, Cadence received a horn - she started as a pegasus in the first place. So, we’d need three or more manuals, and a way to get them to whomever needed them if they ascended… without knowing exactly who might ascend, when, and where.”
“Ah, a logistics nightmare. I daresay I am quite content to be a unicorn. Now, right this way, I can take you to the Clinic.” Fancy Pants and Twilight made idle chatter, but as they approached the clinic, Fancy slowed to a walk. “I am still at a loss to explain what I witnessed. Perhaps they can clarify it.”
With a nod, Twilight slowed to match his pace. “I have researched everything I could here, and asked my friend Moondancer to check the Canterlot Archives while I investigate the scene and look for Trixie. So far, neither of us has encountered documentation of such an anomaly. Also, there have been no reports of any other unicorns having a violent reaction to the restoration of magic after Tirek was defeated. I hope we can figure it out.”
Twilight’s curiosity was piqued, and once they reached the counter, she waited patiently for the receptionist. “Hi there, I am checking on a friend of mine – Trixie Lulamoon? I hear she was at the center of something unusual a couple of days ago. I need to speak with Dr. Chart about her.”
The bored receptionist sighed, barely looking up “Patient confidentiality, miss…”
“Sparkle. Twilight Sparkle.”
CRASH!
Now, of course, the receptionist was looking directly up at a confused Princess, having involuntarily flipped her chair backwards at the mention of the name. Somehow, she got up with remarkable haste. “One moment, Princess. Please, have a seat.”
Trixie sighed, but she wasn’t as distraught as she’d been earlier that week. She’d been doing her stage show all afternoon, and found that if she substituted a few more pyrotechnics and used her old smoke generator, she could work around the healing ring. In fact, she was now bragging about the feats of magic she could perform while wearing the inhibitor ring. After all, much of her gear had to respond to a very light touch, since she had to sometimes hide her aura from the audience to help with tricks. And slight of hoof and misdirection required no magic at all.
“The Great and Powerful Trixie’s show is now over! Please deposit bits in the bucket here to stage left, so Trixie can continue performing!” as she went through the curtains, she could hear the satisfying clatter of metal into the bin. She got so much more per show these days, ever since she’d left some of the bragging behind with the Alicorn Amulet. And Canterlot nobility were easily entertained, readily convinced she had power, AND had plenty of bits to discard. It didn’t help that most of them had apparently never heard of Ponyville, Twilight Sparkle, or the Alicorn Amulet – in spite of having personally seen them save the city. Such insularity meant that none of them seemed as eager to fact-check her as others had in the past. Of course, she was also keeping it closer to the facts in any case.
It had been a week since she had been to the clinic, and through trial and error, she had learned exactly what her reduced magic could do. Recovering her bits bucket wasn’t one of them, she had to do that by hoof. With her bits secured, she began to use her latest invention, a sort of step-wheel that let her rapidly close her cart’s stage back up for the night.
Just as it clicked into place, she heard someone behind her. “Show’s closed for the… Twilight Sparkle?” She had started before turning around to see the Alicorn behind her. “Well, this is a surprise. Were you able to catch the show?”
Twilight shook her head, chuckling. ‘”Sorry, just arrived. You keep a lower profile these days. Mostly word of mouth, eh?”
“Please, the Great and Powerful Trixie needs no advertisement!” Trixie smirked and gestured flamboyantly, almost to the point of falling over.” Although if a Princess wants to give her magnificent show a royal endorsement, Trixie will try to remain… humble about it.” The showmare then laughed, “Come on in. I was just about to have tea.”
Twilight Sparkle had seen Trixie begin to pack up her wagon, but the healing ring on the showmare’s horn meant a magical scan was useless right now. She could detect the healing spell, and everything seemed right so far. Still, she had questions.
“How’s the healing spell working? I can see the ring is painted black, but it’s still detectable if you scan for it.” Twilight sat comfortably in a chair, whilst Trixie used the bed in the small trailer. “Also, nice trailer – how’d you get it?”
Trixie made a comedically overacted grimace of shock and outrage whilst rising up on her hind legs aggressively and flailing with her forelegs, “The Great and Powerful Trixie...” she started, in full show pony mode, “… has an uncle who’s a carpenter.” With a smirk, she sat back down, whilst Twilight chuckled at the hammyness of it all. “She had to work it off, of course, but her family’s glad her head’s ‘out of the clouds’ now.”
“Good to hear. Do you remember anything about what happened to you? It sounds like it was an odd event.” Twilight Sparkle had produced a scroll and quill, and was looking at Trixie with a gaze both intent and curious.
"Now, now, Trixie isn’t giving interviews.” Trixie laughed, a genuine laugh this time. “Ok, all kidding aside,” Trixie dropped her stage persona with a deep breath, “I ruined my hat, covered myself in soot, and gave myself a headache. It was only an R-8 discharge, the doctor said-”
“Waitasec!” Twilight interrupted, eyes wide with shock. “No one told me it was that big. Do you know what this means?”
“Um, not really. Dr. Chart read me that the number, but my head was hurting so badly I didn’t press for details. He said I was lucky.”
“Trixie, let me show you something.” Twilight created a projected image, much like the ones Trixie had made when using the Alicorn Amulet. In it, Twilight could be seen blasting Tirek – which gave Trixie no end of satisfaction – with a massive blast that left Trixie’s jaw hanging open. ”Wow… um, about that rematch? NOT gonna happen. Hope you’re not disappointed…”
With a bit of a laugh, Twilight said, “Only a LITTLE. But that’s not just me. See, prior to this battle, Celestia, Luna and Cadence all shifted their powers to me, to keep Tirek from isolating any one of them and draining them separately. She replayed the massive blast, and her tone took on a clinical, measured style. “Trixie, this is a directed R-18 blast. Your blast would have been about half the size and power of this. So, let me edit it…”
The image now showed a Proud and Defiant Trixie instead of Princess Twilight Sparkle, and Trixie shuddered visibly. “Ugh, I know how this played out. Although why Tirek didn’t steal all of Trixie’s magic is still beyond her.” Meanwhile, Twilight’s edited illusion played out, demonstrating a shock wave of Trixie’s pale pink aura carrying hundreds of green fireworks in it, fully 3 feet in diameter and shoving the shielded Tirek back along a similar – if shallower - trench, but only half to two-thirds as far. Tirek’s shield didn’t go down, and he recovered much more quickly. Twilight changed the scenario again, placing The Small and Illusionary Trixie outside a meticulous rendering of Horseshoe Park. She overlaid the Trixie-blast over the melted groove in the hillside, placed Trixie’s hat on a spot of soot, and calculated where to put the Trixie illusion. The pieces fell into place perfectly.
“So, what are you saying, Twilight? *I* made that mess? I was sure it was Tirek’s doing…”
“I scanned it, and your magic was in there, all right. Along with traces I recognized. Just off the top of my head I was able to pick out Moondancer, Rarity, myself and my brother, my mother and father, and dozens more; all contributing a tiny amount of power to the discharge. It’s bizarre, because they would have all had to be standing right… here.” She pointed to where the Tiny and Blue illusion of the illusionist was. “All together, at the same time, each one casting roughly your entire fireworks show for a night as a single casting, focused into a straight beam. In the same place. At the same time. For some of them, it would be trivial. For others, it would be challenging. Another mystery – Tirek’s raw magic wasn’t present at all. Neither was Discord’s. Only unicorn magic was present. Likewise, there’s another mystery – the manameter at the clinic pegged when I showed up, I was asked to conduct interviews outside the clinic so the device could be used. Apparently, the same malfunction occurred when you were there… and it shouldn’t have.”
“Maybe they need to calibrate it better? I mean, I see how the facts line up, but, I am, well, not capable of that sort of thing,” Trixie gestured at the image, still in disbelief. “Look, magicians aren’t supposed to spill their secrets, but I owe you. I never managed a manometer rating over a 2, resting state. I set up my show around hidden triggers that take a few pounds of force or foot pedals to activate. I augment one casting of Starswirl’s Skyrocket with illusions; usually delayed mirror images to make it look like I cast several fireworks at once. 80% of the result is a trick of the light. That’s how I’m able to stay on the road even with the healing ring on. Most of my ‘magic’, Twilight, is sleight of hoof.”
Trixie’s face fell, and she rubbed at her eyes a bit, “Tirek surprised me, all alone just down the hill from Canterlot proper. He drained me, too. Well, he *tried* to drain me, but all we both saw was a little wisp of pink light. He even said the whole situation was embarrassing and left while laughing at me. ME! Can you believe it?" Trixie's theatrical guestures returned. Clearly, she couldn't resist her stage persona when telling a story, even when it was truth and not at all flattering to her. "But I was still able to walk, and when he wouldn’t’ come back and drain me properly, I came up the hill and tried helping other ponies. I couldn’t do magic, but I wasn’t, well, exhausted like everyone else. My cutie mark never faded, either. Finally, I decided to have a sit down by the park. I may not have been catatonic like every pony else, but I wasn’t feeling all that great.
“The next thing I know, I’m recovering from some sort of seizure, my hat’s on fire, and Fancy Pants is helping me stand. I saw you, and Rarity, up on the balcony briefly, and the rainbow was spreading away. From there the clinic, and you seem to know the rest.”
Twilight facehooved, ‘You mean to tell me you retained magic against Tirek? and somehow attacked the bark with it at a level I would find hard to duplicate?”
“Nope, I think he got what little I had." Red faced, Trixie sighed, clearly embarrassed about the whole thing, "I was so used to using just a little magic to augment the sleight of hoof work that I was better prepared to operate without it, I guess.” Trixie analyzed Twilight’s illusion again from several angles. “So, what really happened there? Oh, can you show the rainbow that restored power, and put it in the animation? Then I am so going to learn this spell from you…”
Trixie was not alright. The headaches had stopped weeks ago, and she was waiting for Dr. Charts to help her remove the ring. She was itching to have a go at it. Literally.
At first, the medicinal had been a relief, but as the days turned into weeks and Trixie’s careful enchantments began to break down, her act had suffered. She was out of prepared skyrockets, and her travel had been limited. She was eager to get back to proper shows rather than the low-key stuff she’d been forced to do.
She’d made it to Hoofington, but had to turn back for supplies. Normally, she could craft her own, but the last batch had fizzled rather than sparked. She knew it was because she lacked the precision of horn-guided magic, and dividing the recipe into smaller batches was leading to trial and error alchemy.
And explosions. But nothing catastrophic. Nope. Not even that could compare to the itching!
That itch had started all around the base of her horn. It was slight, at first, but now it was almost maddening. At least she’d stuck it out. And Twilight Sparkle and Fancy Pants were both here as well, ready to celebrate. It was like she was having a cast removed – and, in a way, she was.
Finally, Dr. Charts came in, grumbling about his manameter again. “An updated manameter powerful enough to give accurate readings for alicorns would be useless for ordinary unicorns. Nevertheless, we may have to design one.” The doctor paused, and did a double take, before readying the solvent. ‘Oh my, looks like a little skin infection, Trixie. This is going to sting, I’m afraid.”
Trixie gave the doctor a glare, ‘Just do it, right? Like removing an old bandage…”
The itching soon gave way to a stinging sensation, although the ring seemed to not want to come off. It took Twilight’s precision magic to get it off even after the epoxy had all been removed.
"Are medical rings normally fitted this tightly, Doctor?” Fancy Pants was quite curious, as it was clear the ring had to be unscrewed from Trixie’s horn, giving off little green sparks the whole time. "I dare say, I’ve never seen one with a custom fit to the spiral of a unicorn horn.”
Puzzled, the doctor took a closer look as the ring came off, the green sparks fading. “They don’t. One second. Trixie, don’t try any magic just yet, let’s get that rash treated… from the black paint on the ring, I should imagine. I also want to run a few tests.to make sure everything’s alright.”
“Trixie has waited this long, she can wait a little longer. It's best to make sure.”
The doctor returned with a curious look, lotion and and a set of calipers. It only took him a few seconds, ‘Well, if you do get a decorative horn ring, you’re now a size 7. When we fitted you, you were a size 6 ½. That’s what caused the ring to stick when we removed it. The paint didn’t help, though.”
Twilight spoke up, ‘But that’s highly unusual, isn’t it? I mean, adult unicorn horns slow down their growth significantly after puberty. Practically no pony goes up a horn size.”
Trixie gave the lavender alicorn a snarky glance, “Perhaps you missed the part where this whole thing was unusual? At least things will get back to normal now. Is it alright if I use my magic, Doctor? I’m thirsty, and there’s a glass of water over there…
“Sure, go ahead.”
A pale pink aura surrounded the glass, as Trixie enjoyed using her magic unrestrained. “Yep, everything’s back to normal.”
The glass slammed into the ceiling as if fired from a rocket, shattering into a cascade of splinters that arced downwards…
Author's Note
Ok, more weirdness, The previous chapter and this one were created together, but split for convenience.
hopefully, there will be more funny stuff happen...
