I hum gaily as I pull the wagon along the simple dirt path. That’s my job, you see. I know that obviously, she cannot pull her own wagon while travelling, because one day she is going to be a big star, and big stars can’t be going around pulling wagons. So I have to be the one doing it.
I don’t mind, because it’s all I’m really good for.
They say life on the road is tough, but it’s honestly not so bad. Equestria is a gorgeous country, so in the very least the view is always nice. It’s a constant adventure – I love visiting new places and seeing how the ponies there live. Of course, you have to always remember to pack enough supplies, the toilet facilities are absolutely terrible and sometimes you have to pass though places that are downright scary. But I’ve lived this life for a few years now, and I’ve long since gotten used to it.
Anyway, enough about me. You probably want to hear all about Trixie.
Yes, the Great and Powerful herself. For the plebeians amongst you, Trixie is an entertainer. She’s very talented, and not just at performing, either – though her ability to draw the attention of a crowd is undeniable. She travels all around Equestria, usually to small towns that lack a permanent entertainment venue, presenting her wonderful prestidigitation routine. What I really like about her act is how adaptable she is, and how well she interacts with the crowd. See, some conjurers in their fancy Manehatten theaters will put on the exact same show every night for about a decade, while their audience just sits there passively and watches. Trixie doesn’t perform that way. She actively tries to get onlookers to participate. Most of the time the townsponies are very sporting and she can come up with a trick right on the spot specifically to impress that crowd, though I admit that she isn’t always successful. As she’s become more experienced though, her act has improved a lot, and it’s rare these days that she can’t manage to pull it off.
I believe that the reason Trixie can do this is because she’s actually very good at magic. Now, I know that all unicorns can lift things with their horns, and most of them have mastered a single unique ability granted to them by their special talent. But Trixie has at her disposal a wide range of spells chosen for their broad applications, in addition to a great degree of fine telekinetic control. This gives her a lot of options for her tricks, and she’s very creative when it comes to impressing others with them. For example, if it turns out a foal in the crowd has heard of, say, the exotic Zebrican creature known as the Camelopard, Trixie can use her illusion spell to make a Camelopard-shaped fireworks show to please them.
She’s not particularly famous yet, but I can tell that one day she’s going to go far. Eventually, everypony will know her name, and I’m sure she will have a fantastic theater show of her own where she can perform her improvisational magic act with a different audience every night – an audience that comes to see her rather than her having to go find them in her little wagon.
Today that wagon slowly creaks down a road not far from Canterlot Mountain, in the direction of a little farming community called Ponyville. Ponyville is famous for its apples, which are exported to just about everywhere – I like their Golden Delicious very much myself. The town also does very well for itself as a stopover between the western frontier and Canterlot, so let’s hope the residents will be generous with their bits.
As the sight of the town approaches, I note its proximity to the infamous Everfree Forest – I studied about it in school, a long time ago. They say it’s terribly dangerous, and that all manner of horrific monsters dwell within – which makes me wonder what kind of pony thought it would be a good idea to found a town right on its edge.
But never mind that. I drag the wagon right to the middle of the town square and hurriedly get out of sight. It wouldn’t do for the audience to see me. Luckily it’s still very early, so only a few market stall owners are around, and they pay me little mind as I make myself scarce.
Trixie takes her time getting ready for her appearance, doing her best to ensure that the wear of travel doesn’t show. It isn't easy to look fresh when you don’t have access to a shower, but she makes do with a mirror and an ornate manebrush that I think she bought on sale in Fillydephia. I watch in fascination as she brushes her mane – she frankly spends more time on it than she should, but the results can’t be argued with, since her curly silver locks are the envy of many a mare. It’s even more impressive when you realize that she doesn’t have a professional hairdresser accompanying her, so she has to do all her styling herself.
After about an hour, I take a little peek through the curtains. Some of the townsponies are staring curiously at the wagon and eventually, one of them comes by to check it. She’s a nice-looking earth pony mare with a rose for a cutie mark, which makes me assume she’s a flower seller. She knocks on the door and asks if there’s anypony inside.
Trixie stomps to the door and cracks it open. “What is it? Don’t you know who it is you disturb?" she asks haughtily.
The mare looks surprised at her tone. Now I’ll be the first to admit that Trixie has a bit of a problem with the way she talks to ponies, but it’s actually useful for establishing that aura of mystique and confidence that has worked so well in her past performances.
“Um… no,” came the reply.
“Well then, know that you speak to the GRRRREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIEEE! Whose feats of legerdemain are whispered of in hushed tones from Griffonstone to Saddle Arabia! In about an hour, you may be privileged to witness the spectacle of her performance right here, in this very town! Until then, kindly leave her wagon alone, for she must rest and prepare.”
She shuts the door in what I think is supposed to be an enigmatic manner. I take another peek outside. The earth pony wanders back to her stall, where she begins chatting energetically with another earth pony who has lilies for a cutie mark.
I must say, Trixie’s little drama outburst has got them talking. The ponies are murmuring excitedly, some pointing at the wagon, and I think there are two young colts of school-going age who seem especially thrilled. It’s important to play off the energy of ponies like them, because the emotion of the audience is often driven by its most prominent and animated members. Foals are very good for getting the crowd on your side, especially since they are the ones most likely to enjoy magic tricks. On the other hand, if you’re unfortunate and encounter a particularly surly crowd leader, their reception can dampen very quickly.
By the time the hour is up, there is a large herd of ponies gathered outside the wagon. It looks very good to me: they seem positive and friendly, very curious, and there’s a constant enthusiastic murmuring that tells me they will be a receptive audience. I find that pretty relieving, because there are quite a few towns where the residents can be very unwelcoming and occasionally downright hostile. It can be quite disheartening to have to leave a town right away without any earnings after spending days traveling to it.
Still seated in front of the mirror, Trixie adorns herself with her distinctive hat and cloak. That costume is very important, because first impressions mean an awful lot. In her earliest public performances her youthful appearance and pretty face actually proved a detriment because nopony would take her seriously. With her outfit she looks wise, mysterious, and let’s be frank, a lot more fashionable and attractive.
I draw the curtains across one side of the wagon, mostly to hide the tiny living area inside – there aren’t any secret trapdoors or hidden props over here, because the real trick is that there is no trick; everything she does is pure showmareship and produced with actual magic.
I’ll let you in on a little secret. The hat isn’t just for show. Its main practical purpose is to hide her horn when the fireworks go off, because real fireworks are expensive and restocks are not always readily available – not to mention dangerous, since the wagon is made entirely out of wood. Instead, Trixie uses her incredible mastery of illusion magic to create the light show out of thin air. This has the added benefit of allowing her to make those fireworks look like whatever she needs them to: the aforementioned camelopard, for instance. Without that hat, they might start thinking that making bright lights is her special talent, which would ruin the effect considerably.
I take hold of a lever next to the curtain, ready to begin the show, but it refuses to budge. I curse my forgetfulness – I was supposed to oil it earlier. I am forced to use my hooves to yank it downward, and it eventually gives, causing the wagon’s cleverly-made mechanism to unfold into a makeshift stage.
Right after that, Trixie uses a bullhorn to introduce herself.
“Come one, come all, come and witness the amazing magic of the Grrreat and Powerful TRIXIEEEE!”
Trixie checks her appearance one last time in her mirror, giving me a confident wink. She casts a couple of spells – one to create a quick, flashy burst of fireworks and another to cover the stage in smoke, before slipping out, leaving me behind.
I try to be as unobtrusive as possible, so as not to ruin the show.
Right away the crowd is enchanted by her grand entrance. I hear a lot of oohs and aahs as she follows up with another line. “Watch in awe as the Great and Powerful Trixie performs the most spectacular feats of magic ever witnessed by pony eyes!” she declares, rearing up and throwing her forehooves into the air for emphasis near the end.
A full round of illusory pyrotechnics erupts from the wagon, filling the air with color. I worriedly hope that nopony notices such a display would normally leave a wooden wagon scorched, but apparently they pay it no mind. Most of those assembled seem enthralled by the sight, though almost immediately I hear some ponies having a loud conversation right before the stage.
It’s really rude, and I wish they wouldn’t do that. It’s not easy to keep the momentum of a performance going when there’s somepony distracting you with mundane talk right in front of you. I can’t quite make out what they’re saying, but they sound rather scornful. Trixie just ignores them and conjures a multicolored bouquet of roses for her first trick. And then out of nowhere one of the ponies starts speaking loud enough for the whole crowd to hear.
“…You got me around being better than the rest of us!” It’s a blue – well, more like cyan, really – pegasus mare with a multicolored mane. She mutters something else to her friend, an orange earth pony wearing a Stetson, and then follows with, “Magic shmagic. Boo!”
It’s the worst kind of pony to encounter in a performance: a heckler. I don’t understand why they feel the need to do this. Standing on a stage in front of everypony isn’t easy, and even a great performer like Trixie has to overcome just a tiny bit of nerves every time she works. It’s even harder when you don’t have a permanent, familiar venue where you feel safe to work in. Trixie is out there right now in a strange town surrounded by a crowd she’s never seen before and some meanie insists on tearing her down.
I bet it’s real easy to be courageous enough to make fun of a stranger while supported by all your friends near your own home. I wonder if that pegasus would be so confident if she ever had to perform for a hostile audience.
“Well, well, well, it seems we have some neighsayers in the audience. Who is so ignorant as to challenge the magical ability of the Great and Powerful Trixie?” Luckily, Trixie is unfazed, calling out the heckler right away. It sometimes works, since the sort of pony who heckles is often not very much liked by others. She continues with, “Do they not know that they're in the presence of the most magical unicorn in all of Equestria?”
The crowd just stares blankly in return, which makes it hard to gauge their reaction. But I hear something that sounds a lot like a raspberry coming from the front, probably from one of that pegasus’s friends. And then a young colt speaks up –
Wait, that’s not a colt.
It’s a baby dragon.
My heart sinks. If that’s a baby dragon then… I scan the front row frantically.
Oh nonononono not her.
It is. It’s Twilight Sparkle.
Twilight Sparkle was the top student at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. They say that when she took the entrance exam she aced every single written test with a perfect score. When they tried to make her hatch a dragon’s egg, a feat that was supposed to be completely impossible, she not only succeeded but managed to grow him into a full-sized monster, causing a huge furor which made Princess Celestia herself run over to declare the unicorn her personal student.
I remember feeling completely outclassed when I first heard about her. How is a regular filly supposed to compete with that?
She’s standing there, right next to the dragon she hatched, and is presumably friends with that pegasus. I almost panic. This is going to be a disaster! She can probably see right through all of Trixie’s spells. I’ve never actually met her before, but if she’s anything like her friend, she might start showing everypony how the tricks are done, and that will completely ruin everything. Right away, she moves off to one side, pushing the dragon away with her. She’s whispering something to him, and frankly I’m terrified about what she intends to do.
But Trixie… she doesn’t flinch. In fact, maybe… maybe she doesn’t even know who Twilight Sparkle is! Trixie casts another round of fireworks, which does manage to awe the crowd slightly, though I hope none of them wonder what warranted a second show of pyrotechnics. Hopefully they attribute it to her showboating the heckler’s comment away.
It gets worse. The pegasus flies in front of Trixie, getting right into her face, and starts taunting her. It’s terribly frightening when some hostile pony climbs onto the stage unbidden, never mind the speed at which a pegasus can come right at you. Fortunately the pegasus just asks (if rather rudely) why Trixie is so special. That’s not too bad, because it gives her a prompt to perform.
I think the interruptions might have rattled Trixie a little, because she immediately starts telling the story about the Ursa Major. Inwardly I groan a little as she begins: that story is one she came up with very early in her career, and it is frankly outlandish and a little hard to believe; not to mention the possibility that somepony in the audience might actually be from Hoofington and know it isn’t true. She must have fallen back on it because it went over very well the first time she told it, and she’s quite practiced with that bear firework-illusion.
Once Trixie starts, however, she can’t exactly backtrack, so she continues regaling them with the tale with complete conviction. And it actually works. The crowd does seem to like the images and they look suitably impressed by her story. The two colts from earlier can’t contain themselves and begin lauding her prowess, doing the rest of her work for her. I’m incredibly relieved, because for a moment earlier it looked like things were going to go sour.
But then the dragon points right at them and shouts, “How do you know, you didn't see it! And besides, Twili–”
He gets cut off, even though I know what he was going to say. Look, I know Twilight Sparkle is awesome. You don’t have to rub it in. Is he going to be this way to every single stage magician he ever sees? Can’t he just enjoy the show and not insinuate Trixie’s a liar? It really makes me depressed. It’s bad enough that we live in a world where there are ponies who are outright better than you at what’s supposed to be your special talent, but must you also try to make her feel bad about it?
Admirably, Trixie soldiers on. She chuckles in a way I think is convincingly dismissive, and says, “It's true, my enthusiastic little admirers: Trixie is most certainly the best in Ponyville!”
It’s just Ponyville, now. Right, because Twilight Sparkle is from Canterlot.
The crowd is silent. That’s very bad. With no energy, it’s going to be impossible to entertain them, and if they stay unimpressed for long, they start getting annoyed, and then– oh buck, they’re right in a market square full of very hard produce.
“Don’t believe the Great and Powerful Trixie?” she asks. Fortunately Trixie has a little trick she uses to deal with hecklers: she makes them part of the act. “Well then, I hereby challenge you, Ponyvillians. Anything you can do, I can do better. Any takers? Anyone, hmm? Or is Trixie destined to be the greatest equine who has EVER LIVED?”
She punctuates her claim with another round of flashy fireworks. This move has actually gotten her out of a few difficult situations, because the crowd just wants to be entertained, and the energy of the crowd is not dependent on exactly who entertains them. Also, it forces the heckler to back up their taunts, and honestly not many can.
Right away I see a problem. If Twilight Sparkle takes her up on that, Trixie is going to be in trouble. But it’s not an absolutely foregone conclusion, because this is not just a contest of raw power or even expertise – showmareship is a much bigger factor. Trixie has years of experience being a showmare, whilst most of the magic taught at Celestia’s school is designed to be efficient and stripped of fanfare.
I should know, after all.
In fact, Trixie is so confident that she immediately points out Twilight Sparkle. “Hmm, how about… YOU!”
Why did she do that? I’m screaming inside, because there are so many ways this could go wrong. It’s a terrible idea! What is Trixie thinking, making such an impulsive and crazy move! Trixie’s trembling just slightly, and I pray nopony notices, but once the words are out of her mouth she gets a grip on herself and pushes on, goading the other unicorn once more. For a moment I am completely tensed, expecting a reply any second…
Then the Stetson-wearing earth pony beside her yells, “THAT’S IT! Ah can’t stand fer no more’a this!”
The tension is broken, and she steps up on the stage. Trixie regards the cowpony with a half-lidded smirk. The challenger has a rich orange coat and three apples for a cutie mark, which probably means that she works at the famous apple orchards surrounding the town – Sweet Apple Acres, I think? Their cider is supposed to be phenomenal.
“Can yer magical powers do... this?” She launches into a pretty decent lasso demonstration using her tail, ending in a nab at a nearby apple from a tree, which she neatly catches in her mouth. It’s not bad, though I’ve seen better – she could probably get second or third place at the Equestrian Rodeo Competition.
Frankly though, an earth pony should not compete with a unicorn at finesse, which is the precise reason why we’re not allowed to use magic at rodeos. Not to mention the fact that rope tricks were amongst the first that Trixie mastered. She removes her wizard hat – this is important, because it makes the audience think that she’s only now starting to use her real magic – and animates the rope with a lot of excess flair that leaves the audience enthralled and the poor cowpony hilariously hogtied.
The cheers go up for her as Trixie exalts after her victory, but immediately afterwards the pegasus zips out of nowhere and gets right back into her face.
“There's no need to go strutting around and showing off like that!”
“Oh?” smirks Trixie. That cockiness is actually pretty justified. Frankly I’d take my chances against the pegasus any day over a certain lavender unicorn.
“That’s my job!”
…I have no comment on that reply.
Okay I have to admit, that rainbow-maned pegasus is more than just talk. I’ve seen speed, and that is it. She’s easily professional – maybe even Wonderbolt – material, which makes me wonder why she’s hanging around a small podunk town like Ponyville. That entire thing with the clouds, rain, and rainbow – I know a rehearsed routine when I see one. She says her name is Rainbow Dash – are there any Wonderbolts by that name? Or is she just a local performer? I can’t tell.
Forget it, it’s not important. See, it seems that more than a fair share of hecklers are pegasi – they have a pretty competitive culture. Obviously, that challenge of Rainbow Dash’s is ridiculously unfair, because you can’t expect Trixie to fly. But most pegasi are really snotty about their ability to control the weather, and it’s not hard to take the wind out of their sails if you show that you can do it too, possibly better. Trixie’s had to deal with so many pegasus hecklers that it’s practically part of the act these days, so it takes little effort to sweep Rainbow Dash up into a little rainbow tornado and spin her so hard she nearly hurls.
You can tell by now that Trixie’s very good at puncturing a heckler’s fragile ego. In fact, I happen to know that most ponies who constantly need to show off tend to be very insecure inside – really self-assured ponies don’t need to tell others how great they are. When you don’t have a lot of confidence, and doubt yourself a lot, you sometimes create this external persona that is supposed to be awesome and capable of anything and you keep faking it till you believe it.
Where was I going with this? Oh right, pegasi. Well, Trixie finishes by zapping her with a little lightning cloud, which is a great touch to show her who’s boss. That’s how good she is, beating a pegasus at her own game. The crowd loves it – I wasn’t wrong when I suspected they wanted to see Ms. Dash eat a little humble pie.
The laughter dies down soon after when the little dragon tries to get Twilight Sparkle to go up. Her friends do the same, encouraging her, and I’m starting to get worried again. For a moment I think she’s actually going to do something, but then another unicorn steps up, thinking they are talking about her.
“Enough, enough, all of you. I take your hint, but Rarity is above such nonsense. Rainbow Dash and Applejack may behave like ruffians, but Rarity conducts herself with beauty and grace.”
One look at her elaborately-curled manestyle, gleaming alabaster coat and perfect hooficure makes me instantly dislike her. Okay, I admit I’m being just a little prejudiced, but when I temporarily lived in Canterlot there was no shortage of mares like her, who think that their good looks entitle them to everything. Most of them were just itching to snag themselves some rich Canterlot noble, and frankly would act completely insufferable to anypony who didn’t match up to their standards of beauty. For somepony who acts so refined though, she certainly doesn’t understand audience etiquette – I think she’s the pony that blew that raspberry earlier, and she was definitely one of those talking loudly at the beginning of the show.
Judging by how she mistook Twilight’s praise for her own, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to guess that she’s rather self-absorbed and vain. Not to mention that fake accent: it’s well-practiced and almost indistinguishable from the real thing, but real high-society Canterlot ponies don’t have such perfect, stereotypical accents, the kind used in radio shows and plays by trained actors. And that bout of third-person self-aggrandizing suggests that she loves drama and performance, she just doesn’t want to look like she wants to be the center of attention.
Trixie uses a move that’s certain get her on the stage: she mocks Rarity and insults her mane.
It’s super effective – Rarity immediately moves up to Trixie and struts around, attempting to out-show the showmare. I hold my breath as she does so, because it looks like she has some skill at impressing ponies, but Rarity just prances about for a bit.
Then she rips the curtain right off the wagon.
I almost screamed as it happened, but fortunately, the rear curtain – the one that’s supposed to overlap with the one in front – held firm. I breathe a sigh of relief. What the hay is she doing? It seems Rarity wanted to magic the curtain into a very fancy dress – that’s a pretty good trick, but did she really have to tear down somepony else’s property to do it? Or was there a more insidious purpose – maybe she was hoping for all the (nonexistent) props to fall out? I make a mental note to re-sew a replacement back on – and possibly bill her for the material.
Trixie’s obviously very annoyed, and sends her off by turning her mane into a solid green clump, utterly humiliating her. Rarity starts screaming about the awful color of her hair, and I cheer a little inside as one of the bystanders huffs at her exit.
Immediately afterwards, Twilight’s pet dragon again tries to get her to challenge Trixie. Twilight is out of spare friends to send up to the stage, and I think she’s really going to step up. Everypony is looking at Twilight, which is fortunate because I’m fairly sure Trixie has a really nervous look on her face right now – when she realizes this she immediately pretends to nonchalantly inspect her hooves.
But then the most unexpected thing happens. Twilight Sparkle wilts.
I’m shocked. She’s just standing there claiming she’s nothing special. For a moment I wonder if I have her confused with somepony else, but who else would have a pet dragon and that distinctive star cutie mark? And that dragon definitely just called her “Twilight”.
Now I’m legitimately wondering what the hay is up with her. Is she just shy, or… could it be that everything I’ve heard about her is just hooey?
Trixie presses her advantage, taunting Twilight to take her on. I’m not sure it’s exactly a good idea. It’s a tremendous gamble, though it could really pay off: even if Twilight accepts, Trixie might still be able to beat her, or at least put up a decent showing. But it still makes me very anxious.
Twilight runs away.
I want to jump into the air and cheer, but I keep ahold of myself and let Trixie finish up.
“Ha! Once again, the Great and Powerful Trixie has proven herself to be the most amazing unicorn in all of Equestria –
“Was there ever any doubt?”
***
It’s early evening when Trixie backs into the now-closed-up wagon, dragging her mirror and manebrush behind her. Earlier in the afternoon, she was being bothered by those two young schoolcolts. It really annoys me when audience members corner her after a show and try to get her to perform some more for them – Trixie isn’t some monkey you throw peanuts at to get to dance for you. She’ll do another show the very next morning, so can’t they wait until then? She did score a free hay smoothie though, so good on her.
Much earlier, I'd counted up the money offered by the audience – it’s a pretty decent haul, as expected. I can honestly say Trixie’s earned every bit she got today, because her performance was fantastic. She puts the mirror down and glances at me, giving me a warm smile. I can’t tell you how proud I am of her – she took on that entire group of even-more-aggressive-than-usual hecklers and even stood up to Twilight Sparkle of all ponies. That is why she’s so Great.
I use my magic to prepare a small pot of sweet corn mash, having bought the raw ears earlier from one of the vegetable sellers soon after the show. I’m not exactly the best of cooks, but this dish is pretty simple. You just roast the ears of corn in magical fire till they’re soft, then scrape off the kernels and mash them hard with a ladle until it all becomes a nice paste. Mix in a little sugar and flour (cornmeal in this case) before cooking it all for a few minutes, and you get a pretty filling, if bland, meal.
It may sound unappetizing, but it’s cheap. To be honest, while buying the corn I was very tempted to splurge on some peanut butter and jelly, which I love having with those little square biscuits. But after visiting the post office to mail some of the bits to my mother, I couldn’t take it for granted that the money would last very long. It’s a bad idea to start spending it right away if you don’t know when the next successful act will be.
I can always graze on roadside grass if I’m desperate, but I really, really hope I never have to do that ever again. It feels demeaning, and frankly raw grass isn’t very filling and tastes kind of awful. On the road, where fresh food isn’t always an option, I would prefer to eat sun-dried hay, which can be delicious if made from the really good fibers. The kind made from legumes, like alfalfa, is pretty yummy – though in Canterlot I once had the privilege of trying gourmet clover-hay which was honestly fantastic. It’s like those rich ponies can get fancy versions of all our commoner-food, even if you’d think they’d be eating fat pastries every meal.
But for now, I’m just looking forward to having a hot meal and a full stomach. That’s why Trixie does all this, you know. It’s her efforts that keep me fed, and she puts herself through all those horrible audience members so that at the end of the day I don’t starve and can send some money home every now and then.
Well okay, she does kind of love the attention, when it’s from a good audience. And to be fair, most of Ponyville was a good audience – just not Twilight Sparkle and her friends.
I know I’ve said a lot about Twilight Sparkle already, but you don’t know what it’s like having somepony like that around while you’re growing up. She was always so aloof, and it was well known that she never deigned to hang out with anypony at all. Why should she anyway, when she can hang out with the Princess? Not to mention the fact that her brother was appointed Captain of the Royal Guard and was rumored to be dating some very high-up Canterlot noble. It’s really unfair, because it feels sometimes that some ponies get everything: a well-off family with both parents around, never having to worry about money or food, born with brilliant smarts and to top it all off have more magical talent than just about everypony else, all while you don’t have very much at all.
I admit I’m jealous.
But there’s no point in that envy. It’s not Twilight Sparkle’s fault that I am who I am. I did after all fail my exams and drop out of school because of my own inability to keep up with my studies, and Twilight isn’t responsible for my background or my own poor choices. As it is I should already be thankful I had Trixie to help me through those times.
Trixie’s been my rock for a very long time now. I mean, I was doing okay long ago when I was a filly, but that was because I was pretty good with magic, studying in my regular grade school. When I qualified for Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns and had to move to Canterlot, everything changed. Suddenly I was surrounded by unicorns who were every bit as good at magic as I was. Many of them were from rich families who could afford private tutors for their foals to give them that extra edge, since a diploma from Celestia’s school was very prestigious. Coming from a very poor family and lacking any understanding of their high-society etiquette, I couldn’t make any friends and it wasn’t long before some of the meaner students started picking on me.
But then Trixie stood up to them and chased them all away. Trixie knew how to stand up for herself, and she never lets anypony walk over her. Back then was when she started learning how to fight back against those who tried to humiliate her, and learned how to give as good as she got. Pretty soon everypony learned not to try to pick on me, because Trixie would ruin your day very quickly if you tried.
Since they couldn’t push me around directly any more, the other fillies spread rumors about me and tried to have me ostracized by the other students – which wasn’t hard since I've never been very good with personal interaction. I concede that I can be pretty obnoxious at times, but for some reason a lot of ponies think that makes it okay to gang up on me, wanting to ‘teach me a lesson’ because after all, ‘I deserve it’.
No matter what, it wasn’t a good reason and it still isn’t.
But Trixie’s magic tricks cheered me up and helped me forget how sad I was. When I started getting in disciplinary trouble at school, Trixie’s courage helped me to cope. And later on when my grades slipped and I began to flunk my exams, Trixie was all I had to get by with.
I know I make them sound awful, but I actually miss those days in school. Things were simpler then, and everything was paid for by the grace of the Princess, which meant that for a while I got to enjoy a lifestyle that I’ve never had before or since. After I dropped out, I had to find a job very quickly, because I could no longer rely on the school to provide me meals or lodging. Remembering that really depresses me, because the reason my mother wanted me to go to Celestia’s School was so I could have a chance at a better life, but in the end by flunking out it was all for nothing. I didn’t want to go home and be a financial burden to her again, and finding work in Canterlot wasn’t easy for a dropout with no qualifications. Once again Trixie came to my rescue, and her street magic act is what’s kept me fed ever since.
It’s been a hard life – I don’t have a permanent roof over my head and I’ve never had a coltfriend. I don’t stay in one place long enough to start a relationship, and trying to meet one in bars just attracts all the drunk stallions who think they can take advantage of an itinerant mare who just entered town, believing that it probably means I’m ‘easy’. Trixie’s had to protect my virtue from them more than once.
I’d honestly have starved to death long ago if not for her. All these stupid townsponies can see is the brash showmare, but deep down inside she’s incredibly strong and tough. She has to be, because I can’t. That is why she’s so Powerful.
Okay, enough self-pity. The corn mash looks properly cooked now, and I’m about to scoop some into a bowl when I hear a lot of banging on the wagon door.
Trixie gets up and answers it, and what do you know, it’s those two stupid colts again. They say they have a big problem.
I could have told them that.
Trixie rebukes the pair for disturbing her so late, but then suddenly in the distance the sound of roaring and cracking trees catches her attention. It towers over the houses of town, and easily smashes through the forest as it rampages into view.
It’s an Ursa Major.
I scream in terror and we all tear away from the wagon at top speed, seconds before it is crushed like an overripe grape under the paw of the enormous bear. We run down the street, but the creature catches up easily, since it can cover more in a single stride than we can in a long dash. The two colts tell Trixie she has to vanquish the monster, because they want to watch. And, apparently, it wasn’t easy for them to get it to town!
This is insane! What kind of idiot thinks a story like that is an invitation?
I’m terrified, and my first instinct is to run away. The two colts tell Trixie that she defeated an Ursa Major, and that being the Great and Powerful Trixie, she has to do it again.
I can’t believe this is happening.
But Trixie… she knows that if nothing is done, the Ursa will likely destroy the whole town, probably starting with the two dumb colts, even if they very likely deserve it. So she steels herself, and turns to face the colossal beast. That there is courage. I know for a fact that she’s never fought an Ursa before, but even so she’s willing to risk her life for a bunch of ponies she doesn’t know, some of whom are too moronic to understand that YOU DON’T BRING GIANT MONSTERS INTO TOWN TO BE FOUGHT FOR YOUR ENTERTAINMENT!
Trixie tries. She tries everything she knows on the giant bear, but nothing works. All her skills barely scratch it – it’s like trying to fight a mammoth with a toothpick. The whole town’s pretty much noticed the creature by now, and most of them seem to be evacuating in a panic.
Then Twilight Sparkle runs up with her dragon and asks what’s going on.
The two colts proudly declare they dragged that monster here. I’m wondering if they’re ridiculously brave considering the circumstances or just unbelievably stupid.
No, it’s definitely the stupid.
But that’s not important now. There's no point in keeping up with appearances, so I tell them the truth. I explain that the story was just made up and part of the act, and defeating an Ursa Major is pretty much impossible.
The bear roars loudly, and at this point I am quite certain we’re all doomed.
Suddenly, peaceful, haunting music fills the air. I look around in surprise, and realize Twilight is using her magic to channel the wind through the reeds, creating that amazing orchestral sound which is right now calming the monster very quickly. It relaxes, and starts to weave as it begins to fall asleep.
Then I realize it’s about to collapse right on top of me.
But just before it does so, the entire monster is enveloped in a magenta aura, saving me from a fur-covered demise. I gape in awe as the immense bear rises in the air, where it is met by what looks like a water tower filled with… milk? I can't even imagine the combined weight of that load, and I've never seen any unicorn manage to lift that much with their telekinesis, ever. Twilight looks like she's straining from the sheer effort, but that kind of magical power is still unbelievable. I just stand there slack-jawed as she floats both bear and tower back to the cave in the Everfree, far away.
I’m feeling a little inadequate right now.
The townsponies are rightly impressed and thankful – I admit to being very relieved too. They start cheering and lauding Twilight’s power, and for some reason she thinks they'll hate her for it. I think she’s putting on a bit of false modesty about it all, but I guess that’s fine considering what she just managed.
Then her friends come up and tell Twilight how awesome she is, which is fair enough. But they reassure her that the only reason they dislike Trixie is because she is a showoff.
What.
Aren’t these three the exact same ponies who came up on stage just to tell everypony just how great they are? Especially Rainbow Dash – she didn’t even need any prompting, beginning while she was still just talking to her friends. I don’t get it. Every single one of them put on what I know was a practiced and rehearsed performance, specifically to try to impress all the other ponies. They were all doing the exact same thing, so why do they hate, as Twilight put it, “Trixie’s showing off”? And now they’re all just calling Trixie names, implying that she’s all talk and no substance, all while speaking as if she's not standing right here.
This is just unfair.
I’m not happy, and honestly I want to leave. The crowd is looking somewhat annoyed, and you never know if they’ll start blaming Trixie and turn this into a witch-hunt, even if for now their ire seems to be rightfully focused on those foals. But before I go, I make sure to tell Twilight that even if she has all that magical talent, she still doesn’t have Trixie’s performance skills and incredible charisma.
Something like that, anyway. I’m in a hurry to get out of here before it gets ugly.
***
It’s only when the town is out of sight that I can take stock of the situation. It’s late and I’m tired, but I have to think about what will have to be done next. First I have to get the wagon –
Oh.
It’s just hit me how bad things are right now. The wagon is still in town, and all the stuff in it is likely crushed beyond salvaging. I slump dejectedly onto the ground. Everything I owned was in that wagon, even if it wasn’t much. It’s not like there was enough time to retrieve anything at all while running away, and I don’t think it’s feasible to sneak back into town to look for it even if there was anything left.
I get back on my hooves and sit by the riverbank – the wind is sweeping through the reeds and a soft hum still remains from the magic earlier. While it’s very late, the full moon bathes the entire area in just enough light to properly see, coloring everything in somber evening tones.
I take a quick look at Trixie, and I can see immediately how depressed she is. It occurs to me that having lost the wagon, she no longer has a stage. Without one, the act just isn’t the same, and there’s no way to cover the fact that the fireworks are just illusions. She’ll have to go back to busking on streets, performing simple tricks for pocket change, until she can earn enough to buy another wagon, or at least the materials for one.
Even if that wasn't a problem, once other towns hear about what happened in Ponyville, she’s going to have a lot of trouble finding a receptive audience in future – it was hard enough to get ponies to take her seriously before. Her larger-than-life image went a very long way towards making her act believable and entertaining, and part of that image was being the greatest unicorn wizard ever. Considering how badly she was just outdone by Twilight Sparkle, I’m not sure anypony will believe her anymore when she claims to be the best. Trixie doesn't even have her hat and cloak now, so she can't even look the part she has to play.
Things are going to be very, very hard from now on.
It’s just not fair. Twilight and her mean friends get to go home tonight to their lovely houses and sleep in their comfortable beds while Trixie, who’s had to fight for every little thing she’s ever got, has just lost everything. Even in the end they were still disparaging her, as if everything that happened wasn’t humiliating enough. This is just like it was back in school. All those foal's stories always promise a happy ending, but this isn't a foal's book. In the real world the mean fillies usually win and go off feeling good about themselves while the one they were picking on just has to deal with it.
A low rumble comes from my stomach.
My ears droop as I remember the corn mash I had to leave behind – I didn’t even get to taste any. I realize I haven’t eaten anything all day except for that quick drink in the late morning, and I’m pretty much starving right now.
What am I going to do? It's going to be a long walk to the next town. Even if I headed to Canterlot, it would mean a very hard climb up the mountain road. I'm going to need to eat, or I won't have the strength to make the journey.
I look miserably at the grass growing by the river. Am I really considering this?
Yes I am.
I suppose… I suppose I had better get used to it. There are going to be a lot of grass-eating days to come.
I get up and lower my head down to the ground. I grimace bitterly as I open my mouth and pull the green blades free from their roots, trying my best not to pick up too much soil. The taste is bad enough without any mud to make it worse. I gather up as much as I can until my mouth is full, and chew until the morsel softens.
I swallow.
This is the moment when I really understand how low I've fallen. This is how losers eat. They eat grass straight from the ground, because they have no money at all to buy anything better. I've never felt this much like a failure before – even when I dropped out of school, I still had some bits saved to tide me over while I looked for a way to earn more. It’s been years since I was forced to graze, and even then, it was a prudent decision made to stretch out my funds, in order to save enough for the future.
But tonight… tonight I’ve lost everything. I'm eating grass because I have no choice at all.
“Trixie… Trixie isn’t great… Trixie isn’t powerful.”
I look up, and I see tears trickling down Trixie’s face.
Oh no. Please, no.
Please don’t cry, Trixie. You can’t be crying. You’re strong, and you never cry.
It’s bad, yes, but you have to... you have to keep it together. I-I can build another wagon. You'll have your stage again, I promise!
Everything... will be okay. It will be okay. You have to keep... keep believing in yourself.
I need you to. You need to be strong…
Please be strong…
Trixie looks at me…
…and nods.
Yes. Yes, Trixie!
You're so brave. You’re going to make it through this! You’re going to keep on trying, and even a setback like today can’t stop you. You’re gonna pick yourself up, and go back to being the best showmare there is, and one day you are going to show Twilight Sparkle and all her awful friends! You’re the best, and nothing will ever change that!
Because you are Great and Powerful! You have to be...
…because I'm not.
Author's Note
Before anyone says it, I know that Twilight is very nice to Trixie in the Boast Busters. This is just the point of view of the narrator.
