A lump had formed in young Trixie’s throat as her parents walked her down the long, quiet hallway. She tried to swallow it down, but still felt more nervous than she had ever felt in her life (so far). Meanwhile, her mother and father held their heads high, their stern faces rock-solid as this was an important occasion. That was what they’d told her anyway.
Glancing around nervously to distract herself, Trixie saw a line of photo frames on the wall stretching almost all the way down to the other end of the hall; each displayed a class of young fillies with their teacher, some of the pictures in black and white. The wall opposite was plain except for a few certificates and awards, and doors to classrooms.
Just then the sound of her parents’ hoofsteps stopped abruptly as they had reached the end of the hallway, and Trixie nearly bumped into her father.
He spun his head toward her. “Beatrix Lulamoon,” he bellowed.
Trixie cringed a little at hearing her full name, then stepped back and lifted her head to look up into her father’s face. “Yes?”
“Beatrix,” he repeated, calmer, then gestured toward one of the doors lining the wall (it was labeled Lecture Hall), “this exam is where your life begins. This is going to be the start of your legacy.”
“The continuation of our legacy,” her mother added.
“Yes, and therefore you must pass it no matter what. Give it your all. Your whole future depends on your exceeding this exam. Do you understand?” He eyed her, and his rigid tone made her quiver a little.
She considered telling him that she doubted she would do well. She’d never been able to use her horn to do magic. But then again, she was still a filly. And if it meant impressing them and getting this whole thing over with, a part of her was willing to try. Besides, her parents—who had both been exceptional magic students in their youths—seemed to very much believe she could do it. If they thought so, it had to be true, right?
“Yes, Daddy,” Trixie answered.
He nodded.
“It’s time,” her mother told her as she held the door open for her daughter. Trixie slowly trotted through it and into the lecture hall. Her parents followed and closed the door behind them.
The room had a blue checked floor that gleamed as if it had just been cleaned and polished. On one side of the room was a wooden podium and a table with a globe of Equestria and a stack of textbooks on it. The other had a pair of blue doors, closed. At the front of the room was a chalkboard on the wall and the wall opposite was lined with rows and rows of chairs. At the very top row sat four quite serious-looking and formally dressed ponies, each holding a clipboard and pencil. She assumed that they were the judges.
Just looking up at them with their notes dotted her forehead with beads of sweat. She wiped her brow and took in a deep breath before walking up to the middle of the room and stood there, waiting.
For a minute, no one said anything. She wondered if the judges (who were right now jotting things down with their pens) had seen her come in at all. But then a voice pierced the quiet.
“Ms. Beatrix Lulamoon?” The mare who had spoken looked up from her clipboard and stared down at her through her glasses.
Trixie looked up. “That’s me.”
The mare continued, “Welcome to your entrance exam. I am to assume you are in knowledge of the rules?”
Trixie knew. She knew because her parents had been constantly lecturing her on the exam and how to best control her magic. But she shook her head anyway. She wanted to hear what the judges had to say about it.
“If you are to make it into the school, you must complete the given task.” The judge sounded somewhat bored, and she spoke in a way that told Trixie she’d have to make it quick.
At that moment the blue doors on one side of the room opened. A pony wheeled a small cart through it and left it next to Trixie, then he disappeared back behind the doors.
The cart resembled a wooden desk on wheels. On the desktop sat a flower pot filled with soil. Well, she assumed it was a flowerpot. Without anything growing out of it, it was just a clay cup with dirt in it.
She looked up at the judges for an answer, unsure of what she was supposed to do.
One of the judges, this one wearing a fancy suit and tie, sighed with exasperation.
“The test varies based on the filly who will be taking it,” he explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “For yours, a seed has been planted in the soil; make it sprout, and your performance will be graded. If you do well, you pass.” He glanced at his watch. “Well? Get on with it.”
Trixie quickly spun around to face the flowerpot. She wasn’t going to waste a second of time. She planted her hooves firmly apart from each other and pointed her horn at the pot. Squinting a little, she tried to concentrate her magic energy and project it through her horn (that was how her father explained it to her), but to no avail. Nothing happened. Maybe she just needed to focus more. She tried again, squeezing her eyes shut so she wouldn’t get distracted. Grunting with the effort, she managed only to shoot a shower of sparks. Better, but not anywhere near casting a spell.
She opened one eye. The judges, clearly unimpressed, stared blankly at her before scribbling something on their clipboards. One of them yawned, as if they had had better things to do than to be here.
She glanced at her parents standing off to the side. Her mother clicked her tongue as she slowly shook her head, and her father’s firm gaze and narrowed eyes made Trixie snap her head back to the flower pot.
She tried again to make the seed grow, then again, and then again. All she could do was shoot small spurts of pink magic that drifted to the floor and evaporated. She could feel her heart pounding, the pressure to do good, her forehead dripping with sweat, her legs shaking like they were made of Jell-O. What was she going to do? If Trixie didn’t cast a spell quick, she was doomed. She couldn’t bear the thought of meeting her mother and father again after the exam. But how could they expect her to do something so difficult, especially when it seemed she had no ability or talent in magic?
Not ready to face her family just yet, Trixie tried one last time, aiming her horn at the flowerpot. She thrust her head forward as if she simply needed to shake the magic out, but just like all her other tries, it didn’t work.
She slumped. That was it. She just couldn’t do it. Ignoring the displeased judges, she trudged past them and to the door where her parents were waiting.
“We apologize for our daughter’s performance today,” Mother’s clipped voice called to the judges as if what had happened was out of the ordinary. “It was probably just the pressure we put on her. I assure you she has more talent than you think.”
Trixie couldn’t tell whether her mom was saying that because she sincerely thought Trixie could do better or because she just needed an excuse.
The judges shook their heads in disapproval. “Our magic expertise tells us otherwise,” one of them countered.
Trixie saw her father grit his teeth. “Let’s go, Beatrix,” he said, attempting to appear calm, but Trixie heard a spike of anger in his voice. He lay his hoof heavily on her shoulder and the three of them went out into the hallway again.
To her, being alone with her parents in the halls felt worse than during the entrance exam with the judges and all the pressure put on her. Once they were well away from the lecture hall, her father, not looking at her, began, “Do you have any idea what an embarrassment you were in there?”
When she didn’t answer, he continued, voice growing louder by the second, “Under the judgment of the professors, on the most important day of your life, you had to mess up.” He finally turned to face her, and Trixie wished he’d just went on not looking. “You shouldn’t have failed. You’re supposed to be a top student in this school, just as I and your mother have, yet you didn’t even pass the entrance exam.” He glared fiercely at her. She shrunk.
Trixie kept her eyes trained on the floor as she tried to keep up with her parents on her short legs. If only her father would stop reminding her what a terrible job she’d done today.
“Well?”
“Maybe I’m just not meant to be a good student like you,” she mumbled.
“What?” Her father frowned. His icy stare pierced right through her.
“Beatrix,” her mother warned, clicking her tongue. “We will not have that.”
By this time, they had made their way out of the school building and were heading down the stone pathway. Outside, the nearly cloudless sky was blue as sapphire, and the sun shone warmth onto Equestria’s capital city of Canterlot. But the beautiful weather didn’t raise any of their spirits.
“But, but...” Trixie didn’t want to anger her parents any more than she already had, but she needed to say it. “...But what if magic just isn’t my thing? What if maybe I don’t want to do magic?” She bit her lip, hoping it wasn’t the wrong thing to say.
At once her parents stopped walking. They snapped their heads around to gape at their unbelievable daughter. Fury blazed in both of their pairs of eyes, stronger than the sun blazing its light.
Immediately Trixie wished she hadn’t said it. She wished she could stuff the question back in her mouth so that nopony had heard it, but it was too late. She was in for it now.
“Young lady, you give up that tone now. You are going to learn whether you want to or not.” Father said, almost yelling now. He stomped his hoof.
“You must understand that there are some things you can’t control, Beatrix,” Mother added. Normally she didn’t get very mad easily, but today Trixie could tell that she was furious on the inside, though she tried to stay mostly calm on the outside. “And you can be sure that as your parents we know what is best for you. Your destiny is decided. End of conversation.”
Trixie had always had a bit of a temper as a filly growing up with strict, controlling parents. But she’d learned to try and control it. They didn’t approve of it, so she’d listened to them when they said to do so.
But she could feel her blood boil. She’d tried to keep it under control while her parents had been lecturing her, but now she couldn’t help herself. This time she didn’t worry about her tone or how loud she was speaking.
“But it’s my destiny! Not yours or Dad’s. Why should you get to decide what I should and shouldn’t do with my future?” She didn’t stop. “Just because both of you were students doesn’t mean I have to be. I can’t do magic. I can’t and I won’t.”
Trixie was sort of panting now. A small part of herself felt somewhat proud of standing up for herself and saying what she wanted. But that feeling wouldn’t last for long.
She’d thought they were mad before, but sweet Celestia, were her mother and father enraged now. Both their faces had turned white like snow, their eyes as wide as saucers and their jaws had banged against the ground. Their own daughter had never yelled at them before, especially about (what they thought was) such nonsense.
“Why, how dare you raise your voice.” Her father seethed and glared beyond words that she could describe.
“Beatrix!” her mother exclaimed. “Absolutely no shouting. And how many times must we remind you that your future lies in magic school?!”
They were all speaking so loudly now that passersby had stopped and been staring. Nopony in the area could help but overhear the three ponies.
Then she said it, weighing down each word. “If you won’t learn magic like us, you cannot be part of this family either.”
For a moment, everything was silent. No one moved. It was as if the whole city had gone quiet to hear Trixie’s response.
Trixie was stunned. Did her parents want her to listen to them so badly they would kick her out of the household if she didn’t? She knew that only she could shape her own future. Not her parents, not the princesses, only herself. But Mother and Father had gone too far.
She was so mad that she stammered at first. “Well...well, maybe I don’t want to be in this family anymore!” And before they could yell another word at her, she galloped away.
Not once looking back, Trixie ran and ran, away from the school and from her parents. She galloped down the pathway and into the streets of Canterlot City. A few ponies passing by, noses held up to the sky, stared after her, but she ignored them and didn’t stop running.
It wasn’t long before she began to tire, though; she’d never run so fast ever in her life. Panting, she slowed down to a trot once she was sure she was out of sight of her mother and father, a long way away. It was warm in the light of the midday sun, so she crossed the street to walk beneath the shade of stores and other buildings.
What was she to do now? Her parents were sure to come looking for her, right?
Well, Mother had said herself that she couldn’t be part of the family anymore, so perhaps they wouldn’t consider her their responsibility any longer. But what if they did come for her? Would they take her home? She tried not to imagine the immense beatings she would receive if they did.
Trixie vigorously shook her head. She would not think of them right now. First, she needed to decide where to go next. Where do foals go when they run away? she asked herself.
Running away. She was really running away. She couldn’t believe it. She was basically an orphan now, on the run, searching for a new home...
Home! She knew where to go first. She would head for her house, gather her belongings and whatnot, maybe pack some food for the road, and leave. She would have to hurry, though, in case her mother and father were heading there from the school as well.
New plan in mind, Trixie set off for her home, walking briskly into the city. But before she could get any further, she stopped, realizing she wasn’t exactly sure how to get to her house from here.
This is just great, she thought to herself. I’m running away and I don’t even know which way to go. She swiveled her head around, looking in the direction from which she’d come. Ponies and shops and stores, sometimes carriages strolling down the road. And far off in the distance, although she couldn’t be sure, was the School for Gifted Unicorns. And in the other direction, endless road. Should she go back toward the school, or deeper into town? Or she could head down to the city square. Or up toward Canterlot Castle...
It was hopeless. Maybe she shouldn’t have run. She would almost rather face the wrath of her parents at home than wander helplessly around Canterlot.
But her family didn’t care for her anymore, not if she wouldn’t back down and live a life all planned out for her. They’d made it pretty clear. So Trixie was leaving, and she’d never go back. Not anytime soon, anyway. But now wasn’t the time to think about that; she needed to stay where her hooves were. And right now, they were standing in the middle of a city, lost. She suddenly felt very small, all by herself from now on and up against the world and her parents, struggling to find her own path and live her own life without having to live up to anyone else’s expectations. To be free.
Her head was almost starting to hurt with all these thoughts swirling around, so she plopped herself down, right there, in the middle of the sidewalk. Ponies stared as if she were simply a large insect and stepped cautiously around her, but she didn’t notice. She was lost in her thoughts.
Trying not to panic anymore, Trixie told herself, I need to stay strong. Let’s think of a plan... I could go back to the school and find my way home from there. Remember how we got there this morning? Oh. Well, I should be able to find my way back. It can’t hurt to try, right?
Having somewhat comforted herself and decided what to do, she stood up and marched back toward Magic School, trying to feel brave. But with each step taking her closer, she began to worry. What if she ran into her parents? How could she avoid them if they, too, were headed home now? Well, if they were, they’d have to be there by now. Or maybe they’d went out into the city. Well, Trixie would have to try and avoid her parents. And if she were unlucky enough to bump into them on the way, she’d simply have to make a run for it. She needed to make it home before the end of the day, she decided. She didn’t want to be stuck in the city at night... Where would she sleep? What would she eat?
She shuddered at the thought. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to worry about such things.
By now, Trixie was nearing the school building. She quickly jumped behind a café and peered around the corner. She didn’t see her parents anywhere; they must have left a while ago. What a relief! She continued on her way, then stopped once she stood at the front entrance of the school. Where to go from here?
Trixie decided to head down the path that she was sure carried her near the city square. She knew she lived somewhere in the area. So she turned on her heels and trotted down the pathway.
A couple of minutes later and the foal had yet another decision to make: to turn left into the shopping district (she knew that was where it led because she could hear many voices and see bustling stores lining the streets), or continue straight on? After a moment’s hesitation, she kept going straight ahead. She had a feeling the neighbourhoods were that way.
After making a few more turns (one in the wrong direction, she soon discovered, when she found herself in the wrong neighbourhood), she eventually came down a street she thought she recognized. She spotted a familiar house as she passed by, and saw some ponies she knew from around the place (she carefully avoided them in case they were to come and question her being by herself).
Finally, after what seemed like hours and hours of walking and walking (but was probably just about thirty minutes or so), Trixie pulled up to her house. She heaved a great sigh of relief, gladly stepped up to the front door, and almost knocked when she remembered her parents could be in there. Immediately she drew her hoof back and dashed around to the side of the house, trying to keep quiet as she leaned back against the wall. Her heart was thumping in her ears.
Why did she have to be so nervous around her own family? Surely that wasn’t normal. And she didn’t even know for certain if they were home. She should check if they were.
Trixie slowly stood up on her hind legs and cautiously peered in through the window above her. She was just tall enough that only the top of her head could be seen.
The fine silk curtains hung inside were slightly in the way, but Trixie could see enough to tell that the living room was empty. She turned and tried to look to the kitchen, and although she couldn’t see much, she knew nopony was there either. But just to make sure, she pressed her ear into the glass. She heard nothing. The coast was clear.
Trixie took in a deep breath. Was she really about to break into her house? But, well, it was her house, so it wouldn’t really be breaking in. It was now or never.
At last, Trixie mustered up the courage to thrust her hoof to the plate-glass window. It bounced right off, leaving her with a purple bruise.
Argh! She shook her hoof until most of the pain faded. What a stupid idea. Of course she couldn’t break in. She needed to find some way to sneak in.
Trixie scampered around the house to the backdoor, remembering that her parents usually kept a spare key somewhere in the back. She looked around at the little, sunny yellow flowers, the cool green grass, the one rock over by the wall. Oh, right! She got down onto her knees and lifted up the rock sitting in the grass. Pressed into the dirt was a little metal key. She grabbed it. Then she went back over to the front door, inserted and turned the key in the keyhole as quietly as possible, and twisted the doorknob all the way before slowly opening the door.
All the lights seemed to be off. Good. But even if nopony was currently home, she’d have to hurry, in case Mother and Father arrived while she was inside.
Trixie dashed into the house, closing the door behind her. She ran up the stairs to her bedroom, stopping in the doorway.
This would be her last time being in her room, she realized now. She’d never get to sleep in her own bed again, underneath her own roof, with all of her toys and books and things. And the longer she looked over all of her belongings and furniture, the more her heart dropped in her chest.
Well, she’d just have to deal with it. It would be fine. Running away was basically like moving, she decided.
First, Trixie began to scrounge for her most treasured possessions—a ratty old stuffed breezie she’d named “Bee-Bee”, a little pink pillow and a small blanket for sleeping with, and a favourite book. She tucked everything into her saddle bag and struggled it onto her back. Then, she lined up the remaining pillows on her little bed in what she thought looked like the shape of a foal and threw the blanket over top. If she stood far back enough, the whole set-up resembled herself sleeping in bed. Perfect.
Next, Trixie galloped quickly but quietly downstairs and into the kitchen. If she was going to be living on the streets for a day or more, she’d obviously need to pack provisions. So fast-forward a few minutes and two apples, a wheat sandwich she’d quickly thrown together, and some water had joined the contents of her saddlebag. She didn’t worry about packing too much in case her parents would notice missing food. She wouldn’t be home by the time they came, so it wasn’t like they could punish her.
All packed and ready to go, Trixie ran out of the house, down the steps, and shut the door. Then, stepping back, she tipped her head up to take one last look at the place before she left.
She might have stayed like that for just a minute longer, but when Trixie suddenly heard a pair of hooves clip-clopping their way over in the distance, she turned tail and ran in the other direction.
