The room filled with the gentle glow of sunlight, waking up an orange-coated mare from her slumber. She stretched her hooves and let out a tired yawn before casting her gaze upon her surroundings.
Her desk, messy as usual from her tasks of repairing small mechanical tools, caught her attention first, serving as a reminder that, unfortunately, she had to work even on this day.
“That’s just life,” she murmured, pushing aside the blanket and making her way to the mirror. She took her time combing through her yellow mane before heading to the kitchen.
However, an unfamiliar aroma wafted through the air, signalling that someone was already there, busy cooking something she couldn't quite place.
“Trixie?” she called out, opening the door.
“Don’t come in!” her daughter’s voice promptly replied.
Spectacle stepped back in surprise, allowing Trixie to hastily shut the door. Perplexed, she settled herself down, her still-fuzzy morning mind taking its time to process the recent events.
But once understanding dawned on her, a smile naturally graced her lips, her heart warmed by the thoughtful gesture her daughter had orchestrated for her birthday. She raised her nostrils and inhaled deeply, trying to identify the scent that filled the air, but it remained unrecognisable.
“What are you cooking?” she asked through the door.
“It’s a surprise!” Trixie’s voice floated back.
“And how much longer?”
“Trixie doesn’t know.”
Spectacle raised an eyebrow. Trixie had never ventured into cooking before, so her initial instinct was to peek inside and ensure her daughter had everything under control.
Her stomach growled, a reminder that she had skipped dinner the previous evening, but she didn’t want to spoil Trixie’s surprise. Instead, she retreated to her room and settled before her cluttered work desk. If she had to wait, she figured she could make good use of the time by tending to the tasks she had to complete anyway.
Engrossed in her work, Spectacle's mind swiftly zeroed in on the broken tools strewn before her. Repairing them wasn't her true passion—after all, her cutie mark was a sunflower. However, as a single mother raising Trixie, she had opted for a job she could manage from home. It was her grandfather who had taught this useful skill to her, and upon his passing, she had taken up the mantle. She was content with her choice, as living near a rock farm provided her with a secure workplace and a decent income.
Having repaired and polished yet another tool, Spectacle stole a glance at the time, only to gasp at the realisation that half an hour had passed. Thoughts of her daughter working in the kitchen flooded her mind, and without a moment's hesitation, she raced down the stairs.
Bursting through the kitchen door, her worst fears materialised before her eyes: billowing smoke obscured the ceiling, the room already marred by soot, and flames danced upon the stove's pans. But it was her daughter, Trixie, who captured her attention. Spectacle rushed toward the filly and yanked the water bucket from her mouth.
“What are you doing?” Spectacle bellowed.
“Trying to extinguish the fire!” Trixie replied.
“You can’t douse oil fires with water!” Spectacle grabbed a lid with her horn and placed it over the flaming pan. “Open the windows!”
Trixie quickly opened the windows, letting in a rush of fresh air. At the same time, Spectacle grabbed a towel and vigorously waved it around, blowing the smoky fumes away. Despite her burning lungs and occasional coughing, she persevered, determined to restore clean and breathable air.
After successfully extinguishing the danger, Spectacle lifted the pan and placed it in the sink for washing. At that moment, her gaze fell upon Trixie, whose saddened expression was fixed upon a plate bearing something black and unrecognisable
“Don’t be disheartened, Trixie,” Spectacle comforted the filly.
“These were supposed to be pancakes,” Trixie muttered, stomping her hoof on the ground. “Trixie is a failure!”
“No, you’re not,” Spectacle softly replied. “Even I made the same mess when I first started cooking.”
“But Trixie can’t fail!” Trixie exclaimed.
Spectacle let out a sigh. “Go fetch a rag. We need to clean up the kitchen.”
“Yes, Mother,” Trixie replied, walking away with a sluggish stride, her gaze fixed downward.
As Trixie slowly departed, Spectacle turned her attention back to the pan and turned on the faucet. Another growl emanated from her stomach, serving as a painful reminder of her hunger.
“Just wait,” she murmured. “You’ll get your breakfast soon.”
The breakfast, a quickly made sandwich, was consumed silently. Despite Spectacle's attempts at reassurance, Trixie remained fixated on her plate, biting into her food with a furrowed brow.
Spectacle finished first and promptly stood up, placing her dish away. “Remember to clean up after yourself, dear,” she reminded, looking at Trixie, who simply nodded in response. “Don't forget that my parents will be visiting.”
“When?” Trixie suddenly lifted her gaze.
“At two o’clock.”
“So early?” Trixie’s eyes widened.
“I requested that time. I still have work to do this evening,” Spectacle explained.
“But… but… I’m not finished!”
“Finished with what?”
“I can’t tell!” Trixie darted away.
“But your sandwich!” Spectacle called after her, but it was too late as she heard the garden doors swing open.
She sighed. Knowing Trixie and her recently acquired cutie mark, Spectacle deduced that Trixie was likely preparing a magic show—presumably as the main birthday gift. This meant that Trixie would remain secluded on her self-built stage until everything was ready.
Accepting the situation, Spectacle made a few more peanut butter sandwiches, filled a water bottle, and carried them to the garden, where she overheard Trixie muttering to herself behind a red curtain.
“Trixie—”
“Don’t peek!” Trixie interrupted.
“I brought you some food and drink, in case you get hungry.”
“Just… place it somewhere.”
Spectacle positioned the provisions in front of the curtains and returned to the house. Fortunately, there was little preparation needed for the upcoming visit, easing any stress about handling it all alone.
“Trixie, are you coming?” Spectacle called.
“I’m not finished!” came the muffled reply from behind the curtain.
“The guests have already arrived.”
“Just… give me five more minutes!”
“You said that an hour ago,” Spectacle retorted.
“This time I mean it!”
Spectacle shook her head and turned to her parents. “See?”
“She reminds me of you when you were little,” her mother chuckled. “Stubborn, strong-headed and not stopping until she reaches her goal.”
“Indeed she is,” Spectacle nodded.
“But how did Trixie end up with a cutie mark as a show magician?” her mother wondered. “Does she know about her father?”
“She has known about Jack for a long time. It wasn’t until another filly showed off a card trick that Trixie realised it was her true calling.”
“It’s a shame that Trixie resembles more and more like that jerk,” her father commented. “I told you to not trust those famous ponies.”
“Now, darling, let’s not bring up that topic again,” her mother interjected. “It’s our daughter’s birthday, after all.”
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I just can’t forgive him. Or myself…”
“Let’s move on,” Spectacle said, already getting nervous. “I bought a delicious strawberry cake for today.”
“Strawberry cake!” her mother exclaimed, taking her husband’s hoof. “Why are we waiting?”
Spectacle chuckled upon seeing her father’s pleading face, as his wife dragged him enthusiastically into the house.
To Spectacle’s relief, the conversation topics remained calm and relaxing, as the family members shared stories of what had happened since their last visit. Jokes and laughter filled the air, and Spectacle couldn’t help but feel grateful that her birthday was turning into such an enjoyable day.
Amidst her father’s tales of his experiences as a bartender, the sound of four tiny hooves drew closer.
“I’m ready, Mom! You can come!” Trixie exclaimed eagerly.
“Remember your manners, Trixie.” Spectacle gently reminded her.
Rolling her eyes, the filly turned to her grandparents. “Hello, Grandpa and Grandma!” Then, she turned back to her mother. “Now come!”
“Don’t you want to eat first?” Spectacle asked. “I’m sure our magician must be getting hungry after preparing such a great show.”
“No, you have to come now, or I’ll forget everything!” Trixie tugged at Spectacle's tail with her teeth.
“Alright, alright, I’ll come,” Spectacle relented.
“Are we invited too?” Spectacle’s father chimed in.
“Everyone is!” Trixie exclaimed, running ahead.
The adults chuckled at Trixie's urgency and made their way to the garden, taking their seats in front of the stage.
“Did Trixie build that stage all by herself?” Spectacle’s mother asked.
“She certainly did,” Spectacle replied, her voice filled with pride.
“Silence!” Trixie‘s voice called out from behind the curtains. “The show is about to begin!”
Spectacle smiled and turned her attention to the stage, eagerly anticipating what her daughter had prepared. However, there was a moment of silence. “Trixie?”
No response came.
“Trixie?” Spectacle called again, a hint of worry creeping into her tone. “Is everything alright?”
“These… oof… curtains… won’t move!” Trixie panted.
Spectacle’s horn lit up, and with an orange aura surrounding them, the curtains slid to the side.
“Trixie could have done it herself!” the filly complained, but then let out a relieved exhale. “Alright, let the show begin!”
Trixie rushed to the centre of the stage, presenting herself in a purple cape and a magician’s hat. "Behold, and be amazed as the magician Trixie takes this empty hat—” She lifted the hat with her horn, revealing its emptiness. “—and conjures something from nothing!”
“Aww, she’s so adorable!” Spectacle overheard her mother whisper next to her.
A warm smile spread across Spectacle's face. It was a truly heartwarming sight, filling her with a sense of joy and pride.
Trixie placed the hat on the ground and raised her front hooves, performing mysterious gestures in the air. “Abra…” Her movements paused for a moment. “Abra…” Trixie shook her hooves in frustration. “Abra… Why isn’t it working?”
She stood up and opened a hatch, disappearing under the stage.
Spectacle exchanged a nervous glance with her parents.
“Did she really build that stage herself?” her father pondered. “Including secret hatches already? Quite impressive.”
“Go… out!” Trixie's voice echoed from beneath the stage, and a stick painted green emerged from the hat. “Finally!” Trixie reappeared from the hatch and positioned herself behind the hat. “Be amazed by how a magical sprout has grown before your very eyes!"
Spectacle began to applaud slowly, offering a supportive smile, and her parents followed suit.
Trixie took a bow. “But wait, a mere sprout is boring and unattractive. Watch and behold as I, the magician Trixie, transform this sprout into something beautiful!”
She grasped her cape with her hooves and twirled it, momentarily concealing the stick. “Astonish before the sight of…”
Trixie froze, realising that the green stick remained unchanged. She repeated the twirling motion, but the result was the same.
“One moment,” she muttered, holding her cape with her magic to cover what was happening behind it.
Spectacle rubbed her temple, feeling a growing sense of unease as Trixie continued to encounter setbacks. While she wasn’t disappointed in any way, as the fact that Trixie had gone through all this effort for her already meant the world, she knew her daughter well enough to anticipate Trixie’s increasing frustration and anger with each failure. And if Trixie became angry, things usually ended up getting worse.
“Why won’t it stick?” Trixie shouted, the sound of two objects colliding being heard in frustration. “It worked last time!”
“Trixie—”
Trixie lowered her cape just enough to peer over it. “Trixie demands silence from the spectators,” she declared before raising the cape once more.
“Hmm, for a special talent, she sure—” Spectacle’s father whispered but was interrupted by her mother.
“Darling, be kind. She’s just a young filly, after all.”
“Yeah, yeah. But I would have expected—”
“Let’s not make Trixie even more nervous,” Spectacle interjected, taking a deep breath.
“You’re becoming nervous yourself, dear,” her mother remarked.
“I’m not nervous!” Spectacle retorted, biting her lip as Trixie's ranting grew louder.
“That certainly sounds like—”
Before the father could finish his sentence, Trixie’s cape fell to the ground, accompanied by the filly’s cry of annoyance. She forcefully smashed what appeared to be a sunflower onto the green stick. “Stick. To. It!” she shouted, but the stick suddenly slipped into the ground beneath the stage.
“Come back!” Trixie yelled, jumping down through the hatch.
“Perhaps we should intervene,” Spectacle murmured.
Trixie emerged from the hatch, using her magic to carry the stick, before forcefully ramming it into the sunflower. Finally, the sunflower was connected to the stick, but the force caused the latter to break in half, leaving Trixie frozen in shock as she stared at the two pieces.
“Trixie,” Spectacle said softly, but Trixie threw the pieces to the ground and dashed away. “Stop, Trixie!”
Spectacle caught up to her and held her down.
“Trixie failed again!” the filly yelled, covering her face. “I just wanted to make a magical flower for you!”
“Trixie—”
“Just let me go! My cutie mark is wrong!”
“Trixie!”
“Trixie is a terrible and powerless magician!”
“Trixie!” Spectacle retorted, pulling her daughter into a hug.
“Let go… of me,” Trixie sobbed, tears welling in her eyes. She weakly struggled against the hug but couldn’t break free.
“Trixie, my dear,” Spectacle whispered. She waited in silence until Trixie’s sobs began to subside. Releasing the hug, she looked into her daughter’s eyes. “Have you calmed down?”
Trixie nodded and wiped away her remaining tears.
“Listen, Trixie. I told you this morning: It's okay to fail. Everyone fails when pursuing their passion. The first flowers I planted didn’t survive, and I initially made tools worse when I tried to repair them. Do you believe me?”
“Mhm,” Trixie nodded once again.
“You’re not a terrible and powerless magician. You’re Trixie, and you’re amazing and talented. I tell you more: You’re the Great and Powerful Trixie, and no setback will deter you from achieving what you desire. Am I right?”
Trixie smiled. “Yes. The Great… and Powerful… Trixie… I like that.” She chuckled. “Grrreat… and Powerful…”
Spectacle smirked as Trixie rolled the “R”. “Always remember that I love you no matter what.”
“I love you too, Mum,” Trixie replied with a smile.
“Alright, let’s go back. They’re waiting for the magician Trixie to return.”
“No. You mean they wait for the Grrreat and Powerful Trixie!” Trixie laughed and dashed back home.
Spectacle sighed in relief and trotted after her. It went far better than what she had feared.
Late in the evening, Spectacle put away the last tool, feeling content with the amount of work she had accomplished. Overall, she was pleased with how her birthday had turned out. She had enjoyed spending time with her parents and had an eventful day with her daughter, even though Trixie’s attempts at her surprises had fallen short. Nevertheless, through it all, Trixie’s love for her mother had shone brightly.
Letting out a yawn, Spectacle made her way towards her bed, but her attention was caught by the sound of a door opening. There stood Trixie, dressed in her magician’s outfit.
“Trixie, why are you still awake?” Spectacle asked. “You know you have school tomorrow.”
“I wanted to show you something!” Trixie replied eagerly.
“What did we agree on about bedtime?” Spectacle inquired.
“Please, just this one time! It’s your birthday!” Trixie pleaded.
Spectacle sighed. Recalling the day’s events, she couldn't help but feel a slight apprehension that it might end in disaster. However, she could also see the pleading look in her young filly’s eyes, troubled by her failed attempts at her gifts. “Only if it’s quick.”
“It will be!” Trixie exclaimed and revealed a small box with a handle on the side. “Behold and be amazed as I, the Grrreat and Powerful Trixie, present a magic trick so grand that it will leave you speechless!”
Spectacle bit her lip, unsure if this was the right decision.
Trixie pushed the handle, and the lid of the box opened, revealing a small green sprout. Trixie waved her hoof above it, each time covering and uncovering the sprout, causing it to grow a little more.
Then, Trixie paused her hand movements and placed the box on the ground. She removed her hat, showing that it was empty, before placing it on top of the box, concealing the sprout.
When she lifted the hat, Spectacle’s eyes widened in astonishment as she saw a sunflower now blooming atop the sprout.
“It worked!” Trixie cheered, leaping for joy. “It finally worked!”
A swell of pride filled Spectacle’s heart, and she took her daughter in a tight hug.
“You will always be my Great and Powerful Trixie,” she whispered in her ear, a proud smile gracing her face.
