Reinventing Trixie

You step off the train into the bright afternoon sunlight, blinking rapidly until your eyes adjust. Somehow the sun always looks brighter here in Equestria than anywhere else on Equus, or at least it's seemed that way to you- but it could just be your own biases showing through. You remind yourself yet again to pick up a pair of sunglasses the next time you see them for sale.

You hear the train whistle as you step down off the platform. There isn't much in the way of stores or even homes by the station, but there is a broad, well-paved path leading towards what looks to be the town proper. You still find yourself having to shake a weird sense of vulnerability with how open everything is, how exposed to the sky you feel from almost every angle. Not that you expect any sort of threat here, of all places, but still- instincts adjust slowly.

Towards the center of town you can see a giant tree that towers above many of the small, thatched-roof homes and colorful businesses around it. Not wanting to make even more of a spectacle of yourself than you feel you already are, you decide on a casual, easy walk down the road and into town, heading towards the tree- from this angle, at least, it seems to be fairly close to the center of the place, and if nothing else it makes for a great landmark to orient yourself.

So this is Ponyville, you think to yourself, trying your best to look calm and disinterested even as you watch the various citizens go about their day. You get a lot of funny looks- understandable, perhaps, since there's a definite paucity of your own kind here- but nothing more untoward than that; in fact, some of them give you a friendly smile and even a wave, which you try to return with a polite nod of your head or a small wave of your own. You've never been much of one to overtly express emotion, but it doesn't hurt to try to seem at least a little friendly when in a new place... not to mention, there's a sort of atmosphere of community here that already seems to be soaking into you.

It doesn't take you very long at all to make it to the clearing surrounding the tree- and what you see there shocks you to the point where you actually feel your jaw hanging open. At some point, someone had built- no, grown- a library inside this giant tree, without so much as harming it; there were window shutters, a large door, and even what looked to be a small balcony with a telescope sitting up on a higher branch. You've never been a stranger to magic, but to see it applied like this completely blows your mind.

“Y'know, you could end up catching flies like that.” You practically spin in place as you hear a chuckle behind you, only to find a tall, slender pegasus mare standing next to you with an orange coat, a purple mane, and a cheeky grin on her muzzle. “Heh, sorry,” she says, giving you an apologetic downward flick of her ears. “Couldn't resist that.”

You place a claw against your chest as you try to catch your breath, and feel your heart still racing. “...well, I guess that's my cardio for the day,” you murmur.

The young-looking mare laughs. “A sense of humor! I like that in a griffon.” She seems to size you up for a moment. “I don't think I've seen you around Ponyville before. New to town?”

“Yeah, just waiting for my parents- they wanted to show me around.” You pause as you hear a faint chime, and reach back under your wing to grab your phone from your harness- there's a text message waiting for you. “Huh, looks like they're delayed a little bit,” you murmur.

“Hmm.” The mare seems to consider for a moment. “Eh, well, if you want a tour from someone who's grown up here, I've got some free time to kill,” she offers, holding out a hoof towards you. “I'm Scootaloo.”

“Xander.” You shake the offered hoof, careful not to scratch her hide with your claws. She blinks, her expression becoming thoughtful. “I've heard that name somewhere before,” she says quietly, tilting her head.

“Well, I think I'd remember if we'd met before.” You give her your best grin, getting a laugh out of her before recognition spreads across her face. “Wait!” she exclaims. “Now I remember where I've heard your name! Xander- are your parents Donovan and Trixie?”

You blink in shock. “You know them?”

“I've known them for years! Man, ever since I heard about the adoption I've wanted to get to meet you.” She gives you a broad smile. “And now here you are! Wait, hang on, I know somebody else who'd love to see you.” She gets a phone from her own saddlebags and quickly drags the toe of her hoof across the screen several times, then holds it up to her ear. “Hey, G?” she asks. “I ran into somebody you oughta meet. Can you come down to Books and Branches?”

Your sharp ears pick up the reply. “Sure thing, squirt. Be there in about five minutes or so.”

“We'll be here.” She ends the call and puts the phone away again. “So did you just get into town?” she asks.

“Yeah, actually. Just got here from getting my enhanced flyer's license up in Canterlot. It's provisional, so I couldn't fly the whole way from there to here- so I took the train.”

“And I'm guessing your folks are coming up from the portal station?”

“Yeah. I guess maybe there was a delay.”

“Heh, yeah, there's a lot of traffic heading up to Canterlot to prep for the Summer Sun Celebration next week; it's really playing havoc with the schedules. Man, sometimes I really wish Equestria had a highway system like America's- don't you?”

Oh, there's a subject you could go on about for hours. “You'd better believe it! I mean, even with wings, sometimes driving is just a lot easier. Especially in bad weather.”

You and Scootaloo talk for a short while about what sort of a road system Equestria would be best off with, until a shadow passes between you and the sun. You glance up to see a surprising sight- another griffon, this one an adult hen, circling over. She lets gravity bring her down to the ground, coming to an easy stop in front of the two of you. “Hey, squirt!” she says, ruffling Scootaloo's mane. “Who's your friend here?”

“You're not gonna believe this, G. Remember when we heard that Trixie and Donovan adopted a griffon fledgling?” She motions to you with a forehoof.

The other griffon blinks in surprise and turns to look at you. “You're Xander?” she asks.

You can only give her a confused stare. “Uh, yeah, that's me.”

The widest grin you've ever seen splits her beak. “Kid, it is great to meet you!” she says, grabbing your claw in her own and shaking it heartily. “When Don and Trix told me they finally decided to adopt, that was cool enough... but when they said they were takin' in an orphaned griffon? Floored me like an arctic downdraft. I just wish they hadn't decided to do it while Dash, Scoots and I were out in Vanhoofer!”

“It was, uh... sort of a spur-of-the-moment thing, actually....” Your mind is still reeling from the exuberant greeting you've just gotten.

“Yeah, they gave me a quick rundown of what happened, but I'd love to hear the whole story! Are you gonna be in town a while?”

“Um... yeah, my parents are going to meet me here but they're running a bit late.”

“Gotcha. Scoots, you hungry?” At the mare's enthusiastic nod, Gilda grins. “Then let's grab a bite to eat and then give Xander here the five-bit tour of Ponyville.”

To your intense surprise, there is actually a place that sells cooked meat products right by the edge of town. Gilda laughs at your disbelieving gaze. “Hey, you know that commerce smooths over a lot of rough roads,” she says. “With more humans and griffons coming to live in Equestria, a lot of ponies decided to cater to omnivore diets. It helps a lot that it's all nonsapient Earth stock, not anything from Equus.”

To her credit- and your continued surprise- Scootaloo doesn't seem the least bit fazed as you order a seared tuna steak and Gilda opts for some braised salmon. The mare looks entirely at ease sitting next to the two of you with her own grilled-daffodil-and-sourdough sandwich... which, interestingly enough, actually smells pretty appetizing to you as well. “So, Xander,” Gilda says, “tell us about how you ended up being adopted by Trixie and Donovan.”

It's not a terribly long story to tell, though it does take a little longer between bites of tuna- which is amazingly good, and you wouldn't believe it had been made by a pony if you hadn't seen it done with your own eyes- and questions from Gilda and Scootaloo. You tell them how you lost your father to darkfeather fever shortly after your fifth birthday, and your mother- desperate to pay off medical debts and keep your family's relatively high station in life going- started taking jobs as a hired sword for convoys in the more dangerous eastern regions... until, four years ago, the convoy she was escorting vanished without a trace, along with her. After a month of searching, the kingdom declared her presumed dead, your family home and belongings were sold to settle remaining debts, and you were placed under the care of the crown- or, more specifically, the government's woefully-underfunded foster-care services.

And it was there you languished for four years, going from one lousy orphanage to the next, gradually becoming angry and bitter at the variety of incompetence you were subjected to- from well-meaning but ineffective, to downright arrogant and cruel. Potential parents were far more interested in younger chicks to bond with, leaving an older juvenile like yourself out in the cold. You had pretty much resigned yourself to being stuck in the system until you reached the age of maturity when, finally, relief came- in the form of the Griffon Kingdom's first mass-media expose.

One of Gilda's eyebrows raises enough to threaten to lift off from her head. “You ended up on television?” she asks.

“Well, yeah, for all of about ten seconds.” You chuckle. “But apparently those ten seconds were enough. It turns out that the story about the miserable conditions and low adoption rates of the foster-care system caused a huge uproar through the kingdom; it was a punch in the beak for our public image, especially when we're still making appeals to first-world Earth governments for direct trade contacts. The report got a lot of airtime, and when Tr-” You have to correct yourself; it's still weird using these words after so long- “Mom and Dad saw it, they noticed my little section of the video and wanted to know more about me.”

If Gilda looks interested, then Scootaloo seems absolutely riveted. “And then?” she asks, her sandwich sitting forgotten on its plate in front of her.

“They made calls, they arranged a meeting. Which at first I really wasn't looking forward to.” You shrug slightly at their questioning looks. “Honestly, I thought it was going to be some stupid self-promotional thing where a couple of celebrities stop by, look sorry for me, get pictures taken and skip town as fast as they came in. So imagine how surprised I was when I'm called to the courtyard and there's no cameras, no reporters... just a hopeful-looking pony and human standing there, smiling.

“We talked for, I don't know... forty-five minutes, maybe an hour tops. Not much about what happened to me, but mostly about... what I wanted. Can you believe that, in those four years I spent waiting, nobody ever asked me that? But that's just what they wanted to know. What kind of life I wanted away from the orphanages, being my own griffon, and... being their adopted child.” You close your eyes for a moment. “When that conversation ended, I went back into the orphanage with them... and then I left with them. Forever.”

“Heh.” You just catch Gilda wiping away a tear. “That's freakin' awesome, dude. Dashie always said those two could give a lucky kid a great home... I knew she was right.”

“I'm really happy for you, Xander,” Scootaloo adds; her expression has softened, and her smile makes you feel a little warm inside. “I know how it feels to have a family again after a long time alone.”

You stare at her in shock, barely aware of your dropped fork clattering against the table. “You mean...?”

“Yeah, I was an orphan too.”

“ 'Was'? Then, who...?”

With a tilt of her head and a flick of her ears, the mare indicates the hen sitting next to her; Gilda raises a claw in acknowledgment.

It's a wonder the bottom of your beak doesn't hit the table hard enough to go through it. A pony and a human adopting a griffon seemed weird enough, but understandable; ponies are practically paragons of love and tolerance, at least compared to your typical griffon. But one of your own adopting a pony? You would've thought most griffons would sooner chew their own wings off than do something so “sappy” and “dumb”. “I... I don't....” is all you manage to stammer out.

Gilda laughs good-naturedly. “Yeah, I know, I know. Huh, how would Twilight say it... 'behavior atypical of griffon societal norms' or something like that, I bet. Well, kiddo, we might as well 'fess up- a lot of griffons are dweebs.” She grins. “I used to be a dweeb once. But then I stopped being a dweeb and started being awesome. True story.”

You can't help but laugh at that, finally breaking the logjam in your brain. “Yeah, I mean... no offense, but... wow. You'd get a lot of dirty looks back home.”

“Fft, like I wasn't already.” The hen shrugs. “You'd know how I got treated if you knew who my lairmate is.”

“Who?” you naturally ask.

“Oh, just somepony she knew from flight school,” comes the reply from behind you. You reflexively turn in your seat... and what you see makes you forget to stop the motion of your body and sends your chair falling backwards with you still in it. This leaves you in the perhaps enviable position of landing beak-first on the ground at the hooves of Rainbow Dash. “Whoa! Hey there,” she exclaims, reaching down to you with a forehoof. “You alright?”

“Oh, jeez....” You can't help but mutter to yourself in disgust even as you raise a claw for the mare to help you up to all fours. Beakplanting right in front of your idol? Smooth move, Xander. “Sorry, you just sort of caught me by surprise,” you manage to say as you stand again.

“Heh! Sorry. I was just kind of listening in. I'm Rainbow Dash.” She holds out a hoof to shake. “Who are you?”

“I'm, uh... my name's Xander....” Your brain is trying to run itself in circles despite your best efforts to get it under control. It's her, it's actually her! one part of your mind is chirping like a songbird stuck on “repeat”; get yourself under control before you babble like a plucking doofus! the other is screaming at it.

Thankfully Scootaloo comes to your rescue... sort of. “Hey, I know that look,” she says teasingly. “You're a fan of Rainbow Dash, aren't you?”

“I, um....” You sheepishly look away for a moment, and Dash chuckles. “Hey, it's cool, kiddo,” she says. “Always glad to meet a fan. Xander, you said? Wanna autograph?”

“Um... sure!” You glance around desperately for something for her to sign- but she's already ahead of you, tugging a mini-poster and marker out of her saddlebags and then moving up to the table. “Go ahead back to your meal, kiddo, it'll get cold,” she tells you as she uncaps the marker and begins writing on the poster. “Have you seen any of my performances?”

“Uh, yeah, one... it was when the Wonderbolts were performing with the Blackwings out at Windermund last year. I got to see your loose-wing Immelmare maneuver!”

“Heh. Yeah, it went really well in that show, I gotta say. Did you get to see the Feather Fling Formation, too?”

Your expression falls. “Um, no, I didn't....”

“Aw, that's a shame. Why not?”

“I, uh....” You look down at your meal. “The orphanage had found out that I'd snuck out to see your show, and asked stadium security to haul me out so that they could bring me back.”

The marker stops moving, and she glances up at you. “...orphanage?” she repeats. “You... oh. Oh, jeez, I'm sorry, kiddo.”

“No no no, it's okay!” You raise your claws in a reassuring gesture. “It's okay, really. I, um....”

“He's actually here in Ponyville to meet up with his adoptive parents,” Scootaloo finishes. She's doing a fantastic job of keeping her expression neutral, to the point where you wonder if she's ever considered going into acting.

Dash's expression is one of confusion. “Okay, but, uh... we're a pretty long way from the kingdom; why are you meeting them here?”

“I just came from Canterlot. I was getting my flyer's license.”

“Well, hey, congratulations! ...but doesn't that mean you're an Equestrian citizen?”

“It certainly does,” comes another voice from behind Dash. This time she's the one taken by surprise, dropping the pen as she spins around- only to see Trixie standing before her with a playful grin, and Donovan right behind her. The look of shock on Dash's face is priceless. “Guh!” she exclaims. “How'd you sneak up on me like that, Trix?!”

“Sound-muffling spell.” Trixie clops a hoof against the pavement, but it hardly makes a sound. “Necessary for a showpony who depends on positioning in her act!”

“But... that... argh!” Dash makes a playful show of rubbing at her head with her forehooves, before leaning forward to hug Trixie, who returns the embrace, and then rearing up to hug Donovan as well.

By the time she's done, you've left your seat and pad your way up to them as well. “Hi, Mom,” you say casually. “Hi, Dad.”

“Yawuh-?” Dash's mouth goes as wide as yours had, and she looks between you and your adoptive parents in shock. Then realization hits her. “Ohhhhhhh- I remember now! Ha ha, wow.” She puts a foreleg over your neck and gives you a playful noogie with her other forehoof, making you laugh. “Sure, guys, just leave me hanging,” she chuckles, looking at Gilda and Scootaloo, who are laughing heartily.

“Sorry, Dashie,” Gilda snickers. “But that was just too funny to pass up.”

“You know, I think we missed something,” Donovan says to Trixie, one eyebrow quirked in curiosity.

You all return to the table, and Scootaloo tells your adoptive parents how she came across you at the library, and how Gilda and then Dash got to meet you. To your surprise, all of them have known each other for years. “Yeah, dude,” Gilda chuckles. “Heck, if it weren't for those two, I don't know if I ever would've learned to quit worrying about how other griffons looked at me, and then I wouldn't have had the confidence to agree to adopt Scoots here. And lemme tell ya, it would've really been my loss.” She reaches over to ruffle the mare's mane, getting a laugh.

Trixie gives the hen an appreciative smile before turning to you. “So how did your license test go?” she asks.

By way of answer, you retrieve your wallet from your harness, and open it to show the laminated card nestled within. Trixie and Donovan both grin at the sight of it. “Congratulations,” the human tells you, patting your neck lightly. “First try, too!”

“Really?” Dash grins as well. “Yeah, that's not bad at all. You must be a pretty talented flyer, Xander.”

“Well, I hope so, I....” You pause for a moment- are you actually brave enough to voice your life's dream in front of your idol? She gives you a quizzical look. “You what, kiddo?” she asks.

“I... I want to join the Wonderbolts someday.”

Well, there it is, out in the open. Dash's expression is unreadable for a moment. “Why the Wonderbolts?” she asks. “I would've thought that the Blackwings would be your first choice.”

“Dash....” Gilda's expression falls a bit. “His odds wouldn't be very good, no matter how good a flyer he is.”

“Why?”

“Griffon society is stupid, Dash. Without a lot of influence in the government- a family with a lot of political power or wealth, celebrity, crap like that- he'd have a hard time getting a claw in the door in anything beyond basic infantry, let alone considered for one of the actual performance teams.” Gilda sighs. “It's still more 'who you know' than 'what you can do'.”

A flash of actual fury crosses Dash's face for a moment. “Well, buck that,” she murmurs, turning back to you. “Equestria's gonna lead the way on this, then. I'll tell you what, Xander- when you get your full license, then me, Scoots and Gilda will see about giving you some advanced flight training. If we can get you up to qualifying standards... then I'll sponsor an entry application for you. If I can get you accepted, it'll mean the full four months of basic and advanced training once you're of age, of course.”

“That's still less than I would've had back home,” you tell her.

“...oh. Right, I forgot you guys still have mandatory conscription. But since you're both a citizen here and a resident of Earth, they can't call you in.” A smug grin spreads across her muzzle.

You slump in your seat as the enormity of all this hits you at once. You've just been promised flight lessons by your idol, and her promise to do what she can to get you accepted into Equestria's premiere aerial performers. And here you were just getting used to having an actual home! Donovan seems to notice your bewilderment. “You okay, Xander?” he asks.

“Yeah, Dad, it's just... this is a lot to take in.” Your claw is actually trembling as you try to smooth back your crest in a motion of nonchalance; it's clear you're not actually fooling anybody. You turn towards the sky-blue pegasus. “Miss Dash... thank you. I mean, really, thank you. I can't tell you how much this means to me.”

“Heh. No 'miss', kiddo. Just 'Dash' is good.” She smiles. “And I'm not just doing this as a favor to friends. I think you've got a lot of potential, and it'd be a crime to see it go to waste because of dumbflank idiocy that's out of your control.”

You feel Trixie's hoof on the side of your neck, rubbing comfortingly against your feathers. “Is this what you want, Xander?” she asks. “If you really feel that you want to try for a spot on the Wonderbolts, we'll stand behind you one hundred percent.”

It is a weird feeling, you decide, to have what seemed so impossible suddenly within your grasp- like an unexpected clear spot in a harsh winter storm. You find a nice distant place in the back of your mind and shove all your doubts and insecurities into it. “Yeah, Mom,” you say quietly. “I really do. I... I think I can make it. I want to give it that try.”

Everyone else at the table is smiling at you, and you can't help but feel warmed by it. “Awesome!” Dash says. “Trix, D, I'll see about going up my chain of command and getting ponies talking about this. We'll probably run into some jerks who don't want to see a griffon succeed in a pony-centric outfit- but I know for a fact that Captain Spitfire hates that sort of speciesism with a passion... and I would really not wanna be the poor chump who gets on her bad side because of that.”

"And I'll have a talk with Lightflare, too," Trixie adds. "He has a bit of pull, and he can definitely rally support if we need it."

“That would definitely help,” Donovan says. “Anything else you can recommend, RD?”

“Books. Lots of books. Learn everything you can about the mechanics of flight, aerodynamics, maneuvering. Hay, I even took up studying aerospace a bit for help with ultra-high-altitude maneuvers.”

“I can Email you guys the titles of some of our books at home once we get back there,” Gilda adds. “Some of them are pretty technical, though.”

You nod. “It's okay. I can learn.”

A pleased smile crosses Dash's face. “That's the right attitude to have, kid. Now... looks like you guys are done with lunch, and I already ate- Trixie, Donovan? You guys hungry?” When they both shake their heads, she smiles. “Okay then. I've got a bit of time to kill... how about we chat for a while?”

Gilda chuckles. “Yeah, we already promised Xander a quick tour of the town, too.”

“Okay! We can hold two birds with one branch.” You all stand up and walk back towards the center of town, with you and the other flyers staying groundbound out of respect for your adoptive parents. Along the way, Scootaloo trots up next to you. “Say,” she half-whispers towards you. “Can I see your phone for a second?”

“Uh, sure....” Bewildered, you take out your phone and unlock it for her, then give it to her; with the tip of one of her feathers, she expertly moves through menus and then types something in. “Here,” she says quietly, hoofing it back to you with a smile on her face.

Her name and phone number are now in your contacts. Your beak hangs wide open at this, and your blank stare is met with a sly wink and a grin before the young mare trots up ahead again to talk with her own adoptive parents. You're pretty sure your own new parents are watching you as well, so with all the grace and slyness of a drunk manticore trying to play hopscotch, you fumble your phone back into your harness.

Donovan and Trixie are doing their best not to give each other knowing looks and smiles, but you can spot them anyway. As for you, you just have to keep yourself from laughing at the absurdity of this whole situation. Wasn't it just half a year ago that you'd resigned yourself to a long wait before you were finally given control of your own destiny, and then the grind of trying to find decent gainful employment in a society with its collective beak up its collective butt? And now here you are, in the care of two of the most decent and loving individuals you've ever had the luck to meet, determined to clear a path for you towards whatever pursuit you want to chase. You'd wanted to stay aloof at first, to not risk your feelings being clawed apart again... but you couldn't, not for long; over the short time you've lived with your adoptive parents, they've patiently broken your emotional walls down, one by one, with nothing more than attention and empathy. It might still be a little difficult to call them “Mom” and “Dad”, but you have a feeling it'll only get easier.

And now you're looking at a future where you could have what you've wanted most since that air show in Windermund. It's going to take hard work, lots of it, you know- but now you have family and friends who want to help you along the way, who you honestly feel you can depend on. And the fact that you have the attention of an undeniably cute young mare as well is certainly not hurting your ego in any way.

It's insane. You half-believe that you're only dreaming, that such a sudden reversal of fortune could only happen in the realm of fantasy... but you've never even had dreams this good. But you are excited beyond measure at the chance you've been given now, and you will do everything you can to earn it- to put the name Xander Snowsong in lights, and show the world your appreciation of those who took a chance on you, who gave you that shot you never expected to have.

Wait, you amend yourself. That's not quite right. The name that I'll be putting in lights... is Xander Trellis.

And you decide, with a satisfied nod of your head, that you're perfectly okay with that.