Dear Twilight Sparkle,
I'm never good at writing these things.
Letters. Full of sentiment and emotion. I've never really had any of those. Well, I did once. But I'll get to that later.
It's Trixie.
Trixie Lulamoon?
Remember?
The Great and Powerful Trixie?
The haughty, boastful magician that you humbly defeated with all your fantastical powers?
I loved magic, ever since I was a little filly, sitting starry-eyed in that big, scary schoolhouse, while all the other homely fillies sat dumbly in their desk-seats, sticking their hooves up their noses. Really, it was the basis of my knowledge that I was better than everypony else.
Magic saved my sanity from getting trampled by the constant stupidity that I was surrounded by. My parents frowned upon it; they were both earth ponies, it was only natural that dim-witted earth ponies would be scared of the unfamiliar, alien force.
It was only when I got my cutie mark that I realized I could use it to my advantage.
I was trotting around the neighborhood, when I came across a large crowd that was quickly gaining numbers. I at first was not interested in some idiotic show that only grabbed the interest of a bunch ordinary ponies with ordinary minds. But as I was simply trying to weave my way through the gathering, I somehow ended up being shifted to the front row.
I have to say, I was enchanted. Enchanted by the way she was manipulating the crowd into believing every silver word that came out of her mouth was pure metaphoric gold.
Firecracker Burst was her name. Cyan coat, blue eyes, a flame printed on her flank and a flaming orange mane. An undeniably eye-catchingly odd color combination.
True to her name, her ability to create brilliantly colorful firework displays had captured the hearts and minds of the dull ponies that surrounded her. I wasn't truly impressed until she asked for donations. I haven't seen that many bits flying into a suitcase since my substitute science teacher demonstrated magnetism whilst packing for an overseas trip. I had no idea basking could be so successful. I was always lead to believe that basking was for the homeless ponies in need of chump change so they could buy just one more round of salt lick.
Anyway, while I was more impressed with the bits rather than the display, I decided that I ought to have a go at this fascinating art of deception.
I was browsing through a few books when I discovered one about stage magic. The Art of Stage Magic, it was called. How to amaze ponies with a small amount of magical ability. Razzle dazzle 'em, as they say. It was a general consensus that stage magic was merely an entertainment strategy. However, I considered it to be the ultimate con. How to trick ponies into thinking you are far greater than you actually are.
It was a guide on how to deceive.
My parents constantly told me not to get too wrapped up in it. They told me that my condition wouldn't allow any sort of pressure on my horn. Or any part of my body, for that matter. I laughed it off. It was only stage magic after all.
I soon performed at Hoofington College of the Magic Arts. My first show.
The first of hundreds.
Everypony, predictably, was dumbstruck by the pretty lights and the boom-boom noises. But it didn't matter. Trixie Lulamoon would normally annoyed by the ignorance, but she was no longer there. She'd scurried off and hid just after the show began.
The Great and Powerful Trixie took her place.
She tantalised the audiences' senses, she shone like the sparkling crescent moon cutout that was dangling in the backdrop. She flew like the fireworks. The ordinary could only dream to be anything like her.
NONE WILL FORGET...THE GREAT AND POWERFUL TRRRRIXIE!!
I noticed my new cutie mark when I was relaxing afterward in the dressing room. A blue crescent moon with a wand overlaying it. It was the moment I realized I was going to be doing this for a very long time.
I didn't mind it one bit.
I graduated Hoofington College with flying colors. And I never did one bit of work. I just skimmed over my stage magic and soon I was dazzling the teachers enough to give me full marks. They couldn't see with sparkles in their eyes.
And so that was the beginning of the Great and Powerful Trixie.
My problem started when ponies did start to forget me.
I traveled from small, quaint towns to big, bustling cities, always magnetizing massive amounts of bits into my trunk. I used them to buy supplies, such as backdrops, costumes, and other necessary things.
However, every time I would return to a town, they acted like I was brand new all over again, like I never left any sort of impact on their lives. That was disappointing. I didn't want to be The Great and Powerful but Forgettable Trixie. That was boring. I wanted to be tattooed in the populace's brains.
Meanwhile, back in my hometown, an Ursa Major had been sighted on the brims of the community. Royal guards had been called in to survey the situation, in case it suddenly became dangerous. But it was enough for me. I could twist the truth a little.
I explained to my audiences (in a dashing, not-boring way) that an aggressive Ursa Major had attacked Hoofington, a small, weak town with no self defense whatsoever.
"The town was pure chaos. Roofs were flaming, ponies were screaming and galloping, and the air was full of ash and smog. My father ran to protect my mother but a falling pillar had stopped him in his tracks. He then saw his beautiful, brave, talented filly and ran to protect her. But alas! The Ursa Major picked him up with its giant claws and ripped his head clean off! (I always snicker at the audiences' reaction when I say this) "As he lay dying, I ran to his aid, silently begging him to still be alive. He struggled valiantly through his dying speech: '"Trixie, you are.... Great... and Powerful..."' He gave a strangled cough. '"The gods tell me you are destined for great and powerfulness...but you must save the town, Great and Powerful Trixie. It can be only you.."' His last breath flew through the ashy air. Tears stung my young, gentle eyes, but I knew that the gods were right.
I marched right up to the gigantic bear, it somehow sensing that I was great and powerful. It strafed around me, but I was too quick and fast. With an explosion of color, the Ursa Major shook in shock before collapsing at my hooves.
They believed every word I spoke. Pride and loss of faith in my species came over me simultaneously.
I continued this story, until everypony knew who I was. The brilliant and gifted Trixie, who defeated an Ursa Major when she was a tiny filly. I even believed it myself.
Until I returned to Ponyville. Then I understood it was all a lie that I created.
This should totally be my biography.
It wouldn't imagine it would sell well. Nopony would care about the life and times of Trixie. I'm just looking at my current situation and laughing to myself. Ah well, as they say, you only live once.
How very true.
So I've heard that you've been quite the superpony. Defeating the Spirit of Chaos. Saving the Royal Wedding. Having all sorts of adventures with your goody-goody best friends. Oh, and of course, you're the Princess's favorite. Will you discover that you have wings as well, and you're the fastest flier in Equestria, too? And, above all, you are ever so humble.
Well, I bow to you. I set the violin at your hooves. You are clearly far greater than I will ever be. Far greater than anypony will ever be.
The Great and Powerful Twilight Sparkle. Not bad, actually. Suits you.
I've been lying here for days, still soggy from chemo, and you're out there, prancing about in the sunshine, using your ever-so-strong abilities to make yourself somewhat useful. The reason I'm writing this is because there isn't anypony else to write to. You, Twilight Sparkle, are the only pony that has made some sort of impact on my life, whether it be positive or negative. I find it kind of funny that it was only for a short amount of time, too.
Because, Twilight, you made me feel something. No, shut up, it's not love. I'm not into mares.
Even when those little German dweebs brought that freaking massive star bear over, I had some clue of what I was going to do. Run. Because, frankly, death didn't seem very attractive in those days.
I knew that nopony was going to stop it. I believed that not even an alicorn could hold such an immense force. But then you came to the rescue, Twilight. An ordinary purple unicorn able to effortlessly swing the beast off it's feet with your magic and gave it milk, before adding pain to injury by explaining that it was just a baby gigantic aggressive star bear.
I've always had control over my emotions, never letting them control my well-balanced mind.
But I was afraid. Not of Baby Bear or whatever.
I felt doubt.
I was always to be sure of myself, but now, it's... it's all a big muddle. All the firecrackers went off at once, in a huge, clumsy explosion.
The cancer isn't helping. I mean, the doctors and the nurses are all pompously blurting data and statistics at me, expecting me to digest it as if it were edible. I blankly nod, like an ordinary pony would. Because I am just an ordinary pony.
I'm glancing out my window, and I almost wish I didn't. It's raining, as it normally is. The sky is foggy gray, and it has somehow managed to tint my already-grim room in the ghastly color. The smell of medicine and drugs fills my nostrils with every breath I take. I try to concentrate on my visual senses, but it's no better. I hate gray. It's not interesting. It's boring.
It's ordinary.
Like me.
Because I am an ordinary pony.
The scars on my hooves are fresh as they were everything I owned was destroyed. My caravan. My costumes. My bits. I panicked, and I galloped off into the night, in a pathetic attempt to save some of my dignity. The knife I used has been confiscated, which is rather unfortunate. Sometimes, if I press on them in a certain matter, the familiar mixture of pain and release washes over me.
They don't encourage me to do that.
Instead, they shove round white things in my mouth, and smash my jaw close. I would probably object, but I let it go because they know more than me.
Because I am just an ordinary pony. You helped me realise that.
Oh, it isn't so bad. It's sort of like the end of a show. Just bow to the audience, and wait until the curtain closes.
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Author's Note Time!
This took me quite a while. I'm a fast reader, but a tragically slow writer. (I can read To Kill A Mockingbird in three days, but it takes me three months to write a short fanfic.)
As for Tomorrow: Equestria, I really doubt I am going to do anymore work on that. Sorry.
I have the weirdest little idea for Sherlock/My Little Pony crossover that I may write a bit for, but otherwise, I'm fresh out of ideas.
