It was morning in Fillydelphia. It was a nice calm portside town, relatively close to some mountains, and a forest slightly farther away in a different direction. Today it was cloudy, and all the residents could tell it would rain in a few minutes; so all the families were hurrying about their business. The on-duty workers however still had to work in the rain that would soon come. Normally the mountains were only traversed for sport, not caravan deliveries, however such caravans often traveled through the forest. Sometimes these caravans ran across a slight problem concerning—
“MANTICORE!” Um…yeah…those…
***
A new morning for this mare, another morning for another long day. A quick flame spell under the stovetop, and breakfast was on its way. Nothing ever special anymore, just flapjacks, sometimes without syrup even.
“MANTICORE!” She looked out the window to see a panic in the streets. Of course: one of the forest’s manticores followed a caravan into town. Once one of those beasts thinks your intruding in its territory it will follow you until you beat it or you’re dead. The “Mythic Mare” as she was now sometimes called sighed, extinguishing her stove for the time being. She hated fighting on an empty stomach, but breakfast would have to wait.
***
“Somepony save us!” It was complete chaos. Most ponies had managed to stay away from the beast that was now upon them, but others might not be so lucky. Every worker, every family, pony, griffon, donkey, mule; everyone was running to their homes or some other shelter and for their lives. Somepony got too close though and the manticore slung its tail forward. The unicorn gave a quick gasp, but smiled even quicker as the stringer caught nothing but air. The mare that had stood there evaporated into nothing but mist, her eyes glancing up mischievously from under her hat. The manticore was confused, having such a simple thought process. Pony on tail? No. Pony gone. Pony dead? Food? No. No food. Food gone. Intruder gone. More intruders. Protect home from intruders.
“Over here bat-brain,” a soft voice came. The manticore glanced over at the source of the voice finding it to be the same mare. Pony alive? But pony on tail! Pony dead! Kill pony! The unicorn discarded her hat with a flick of her head, and started running for the monster, earning many a shocked stare from the residents that were glancing out their windows. The beast took a swipe at the mare as she slid below the strike, turning and using all four hooves like brakes. She turned her back to it and gave a quick buck to the nose while it tried readying a pounce. It reeled back in pain, even sneezing a few times as it did. The mare’s horn lit up, and a small black cloud appeared above the manticore, striking its stinger with a small bolt of lightning. The end of the appendage smoldered. With the tip burned off its venom was now useless to it.
The monster roared in pain and territorial anger. It took a barrage of swipes at the mare, who expertly dodged strike after strike, ducking, sidestepping, jumping, and rolling out of the way. Finally after one swipe she jumped on its back, grabbing a nearby rope in her magic and wrapping it around the creature’s throat. With both ends of the rope tied tightly around her own forehooves she pulled tightly, trying to cut off its oxygen long enough to make it pass out. Its stinger-less tail however kept jabbing at her backside. That would leave a few bruises. Stinger or not manticore tails were very strong. Finally it managed to throw her off, bucking like a pony might have. Her hooves were still tied to the ropes, so when she flew into the air she was caught in an arc. She hit the ground hard. The monster went to pounce again, but this time her horn glowed and the manticore found it increasingly difficult to move. It was caught in a levitation spell, but still it drew ever closer. It took all the mare’s focus to keep it at bay, so she couldn’t move herself. A griffon ran out to try and help her.
“STAY BACK!” the mare yelled quickly, losing the slightest amount of focus as she did. This allowed the manticore to get closer, faster. “I’ll be done in a minute.” The griffon fled back into his shelter and looked out the window. He wanted to help, but he was scared. The mare let go of the manticore and it lunged. She jumped clean over it, untying her hooves as she soared. It turned around to swipe at her, but stopped. One pony? Two pony? Three, four, five? The manticore was momentarily confused as it saw multiple duplicates of the same mare, but only the middle one’s horn was glowing. The other four starting running around, over, and under it. The manticore constantly tried to swipe at them, but they were too fast; gliding over the ground and through the air. Finally it got one and it evaporated into mist, just like the first one, although this time it didn’t take the time to figure it out.
“Wait a moment…that’s the Mist Mare!” the griffon from before yelled. Having her title announced (and all four mythic copies destroyed) the Mist Mare covered the area in a thick misty fog. She and the manticore disappeared from sight. All the people could see was the rain starting to fall as the invisible scuffle was heard. There were a few loud smacks, but there was a significantly larger amount of smaller ones accompanied by many roars.
“Too slow,” the Mist Mare mocked as she ducked under a swipe and bucked it in the nose again, this time breaking it. The manticore roared in pained agony as blood dripped from its face. It recovered quickly and took a swipe at her, despite having already been de-clawed by the Mist Mare’s magic. This time it was quick enough to hit her, and she fell to the ground again. She quickly rolled back to her hooves and resumed her fight, thickening the mist further. The manticore couldn’t see her at all any more. The rain was coming down heavy, but there wasn’t enough water on the ground to make enough of a slash for the predator to hear. A buck to the left side of its rip cage hurt it badly. It jumped up to pounce, but she slid under it to buck the right side of its rib cage. A wild lunge missed as she jumped on its head. It knew where she was now. It tried to bash her as hard as it could with its tail again, but it only hit itself in the head when she jumped down (oldest trick in the book). It stumbled, its own attack disorienting it further, as another buck to the side of the head finally knocked it out.
“It’s over,” the Mist Mare sighed. She dispersed her mist finally, and stood triumphant once again. She closed her eyes, turning her head to the side as the rain pelted her. She was of course battered and bruised, even cut and bleeding, but she was not beaten. She could never be beaten now. The navy blue unicorn reveled in her victory as her silver hair began to droop under the water weight.
“The Mythic Mist Mare Trixie stands triumphant again,” she whispered to herself. Smiling, she opened her eyes to see all the people that had come to thank her.
“On behalf of the city I would like to thank you,” the mayor bowed, “If there is anything we can do for you all you need do is ask.” The Mist Mare felt her stomach rumble, although for now it was inaudible. She drew a blank expression.
“Just breakfast would be fine, but in a few minutes,” she said as she trotted back to her mobile trailer, “I’ll be back in a while, no visitors, please.”
***
Trixie inwardly hissed in pain as the needle dug into her skin. This cut was deep enough that it would scar if it wasn’t stitched up and closed. She bit down on a piece of wood she kept on hoof for the occasion. This piece already had many depressions from her teeth on it. While she got a new piece monthly for sanitary reasons she had used this one a lot on the past three weeks. The townspeople probably noticed one or two scars, but the reality of it was over the last ten years that she’d been fighting like this she had accumulated many more that would thankfully only be visible by shaving off her coat. This life was hard, but it was what she did. Every beast that fell saved countless ponies, and brought her joy. One thing confused her though: every smiling face she saved didn’t mean as much as it did eleven years ago…when she was a nopony.
No…now it was different…it had always been different since that day, but she couldn’t understand why. She enjoyed what she did, but it wasn’t for gratitude, it wasn’t for glory, it wasn’t for reward, and it certainly wasn’t for the thrill of it. So what was it? That feeling of joy after every triumph was the greatest thing she’d ever known; yet she never spoke to anypony, so she had no idea what it was.
She cut the surgical thread, set her supplies back in its case. She would wash up later, but for now she was famished. She knew she didn’t do it for reward, but she was still looking forward to having something that wasn’t flapjacks for breakfast.
***
“Hey Mist Mare!” the gruff stallion said as he sat down next to her. Great. Another muscle brain.
“Hello,” she said politely, “I’d like to eat in peace, so if you don’t mind—“
“Saw you broke that manticore’s nose,” he blurted out with a complete disregard for her privacy, “Gotta be pretty strong to do that. I’m impressed, but I bet I could beat you in a hoof-wrestling match. You game?” Yep. Definitely a muscle brain.
“Perhaps you could beat me, but I have no interest in finding out,” she told him without any particular emotion in her voice, “I’d just like to eat and be on my way.”
“What you’re too good to hoof-wrestle me?” he asked her in arrogant anger, “You know what, I bet I could beat you in a real fight.” He backed off his seat and took a stance, making the “come get some” motion with a hoof. An angry muscle brain. Even better. Trixie ignored him.
“I don’t fight ponies,” she told him, “Now leave me be.” She was close to finishing her meal now, but the stallion slammed his hoof down next to her plate.
“I don’t like your attitude!” he yelled in her ear.
“Hey bro just leave her alone!” another stallion yelled as he tried to drag him away.
“I don’t have an attitude, you do,” Trixie stated flatly. He took a swing at her.
“Shut up!” he yelled. Trixie stopped his hoof with a basic levitation spell as she took one of the last bites of her food.
“I already told you I don’t fight ponies, or any other intelligent creature for that matter.” Years ago she used to add an insult about ”although I’d hardly call you intelligent”, but now she didn’t care enough to even think it. A good number of other patrons tackled the offending stallion and dragged him away.
“You think you’re such a goody four horseshoes, but your not! You’re worthless!” Trixie’s eyes shot open. That was it! She’d found the reason for that feeling. It all made sense now, which meant…
“It’s time to return,” she smiled. She quickly finished her meal, assured everypony she was okay, and finally got freshened up. Maybe she was still battered and bruised, but she was clean. She hitched herself up to her trailer and started trotting towards the forest where the manticore came from. She’d already insisted it be returned to its home after the fight, rather than killed, so she came across the stallions pulling its mobile cage (who were returning to town) on the way.
They didn’t understand why she wanted it to live and return rather than die, but they agreed anyways. She argued that it was probably hunting for food. There was no reason to kill it just for following its instincts. Its wounds were mostly bruises, so those would heal, as would its stinger in time. It was a female. Trixie had seen enough to know the difference without…checking. Manticore females hunted, males protected the family, so without the mom the family would starve. There was no good reason for that. Trixie knew she did the right thing sending it back home.
She trotted through the mostly tame forest, following the dirt road path that would lead to her ultimate destination for the last ten years.
***
“Spike get up!” Twilight yelled at the preteen dragon, “You were gonna get something to surprise Rarity remember?” The dragon shot out of bed and down the stairs.
“Thanks Twilight!” The purple mare sighed. He used to be adorable; now having him around was like a full time job, although he was still helpful. She trotted downstairs to find Spike already preparing breakfast for the two of them. It was a simple life in Ponyville anymore. She hadn’t made a friendship report in what felt like a year, and maybe it was. She’d have to think about it for a moment (one year, three months, and three days), but it didn’t matter. She and her friends couldn’t be any closer now, even if they couldn’t find time for one another most days.
They all have jobs and duties. Fluttershy even got married years ago, and recently found out she was expecting. Applejack already had a daughter with her husband. Rarity and Spike were technically a secret, but everypony knew they were together anyways. Rainbow Dash got into the Wonderbolts finally, and was on tour a lot. Pinkie Pie was…Pinkie Pie…well, that, and a well known baker at this point, in fact by this point she practically ran Sugarcube corner herself. The Cake twins had even become her little apprentices. The CMCs got their cutie marks years ago too, but they were still underage and in school (barely). They were still the best of friends as well.
Some mornings when Twilight finished breakfast and got to work on her magic studies and experiments she just thought back to everything that happened in the last ten years. Everything they’d gone through individually and together, for better or worse. Things had gone well for everypony since she came to Ponyville, even if she didn’t like it the first day. Today was one of those days, so she decided to postpone today’s experiment for later and take a stroll through town instead.
“Hey there Twilight.”
“Hi!” The residents were still always friendly, even if she was a little spacey at times. As she thought back she remembered some of the more unsavory characters she’d encountered.
“Twilight darling!” Rarity called over from an outdoor café, “Come here for a moment. It’s been some time since we last spoke.” Twilight smiled as she trotted over.
“Hey Rarity. I was just thinking about, well, everything.” Rarity smiled at this. She knew of Twilight’s fondness for nostalgia.
“What little journey were you thinking of just now?” Twilight grimaced, which of course meant it was a not so fun part of the past.
“Gilda,” Twilight grumbled as she sat down. Rarity shuddered dramatically, just to make light of it.
“Oh that ever so dreadful griffon?” She then gave a small chuckle, “I know her first meeting with us wasn’t that great, but at least she got help with her issues.” Twilight nodded in agreement.
“So any news from out of town?” Twilight asked curiously. Rarity perked up instantly. This would be a fun one.
“That Mist Mare had another appearance!” Rarity told her old friend, “Down in Fillydelphia. A caravan tried to escape a manticore and led it straight into town!”
“Yikes!” Twilight winced. Rarity nodded.
“She was there though, the Mist Mare I mean,” Rarity continued in her excitement, “So mysterious. Like you when you were Mare-Do-Well.” Twilight smiled. That was fun after all
“I wonder where she’ll appear next,” Twilight thought aloud. Rarity pointed behind Twilight, and Twilight saw Spike when she turned around.
“You’re not gonna believe this one Twi,” he told her wide-eyed.
***
She trudged into Ponyville from the main road, headed for the library. It had been so long, but she could see that some ponies still remembered her. The judgmental looks told her that the ones who did remember her didn’t welcome her here, but it didn’t matter. She was here for one mare, and one mare alone.
“Trixie?!” came a rather snarly voice, yet still civilized. She looked to see a purple and green preteen dragon. She remembered seeing him the last time she was here, except now he was older. She smiled apologetically.
“Yes,” she nodded, “If I recall correctly you were Twilight Sparkle’s assistant correct?” The dragon nodded.
“What are you here for? Some sort of revenge plot?” the dragon accused. Trixie was absolutely appalled.
“I’m not the vindictive type, dragon,” she nearly sneered, “Although I would like to meet with Twilight. I’m headed to the library now.”
“She’s not home right now, and my name is Spike.” Trixie silently sighed.
“Could you perhaps find her and send her along,” Trixie asked kindly, “I’ve…wanted to speak with her a long time, but never knew what to say. Now I know, and I need to thank her. Don’t tell her that though. I’d rather it be a surprise.” Spike looked at her in disbelief.
“You want to thank her?” he asked her unconvinced, “You really expect me to believe that.” Trixie smiled solemnly.
“I don’t actually care if you do or not,” she told the drake, “I simply don’t remember where much is in this town, so you’d have an easier time finding her than I could. I merely remember where the library is. Only barely at that.” Spike was reluctant, but it couldn’t hurt any.
“Alright, you stay here and I’ll go get her.” The dragon ran off to find Twilight, leaving Trixie to unhitch herself from her trailer and finally rest a while. Not even a minute afterwards a stallion ran into town screaming his head off. The thought “here we go again” crossed Trixie’s mind very quickly.
***
Why would Trixie come back after ten full years? Twilight kept asking herself, but couldn't figure out the answer. As she neared the edge of town she realized there was a commotion. Ponies were hiding in their homes and Twilight suddenly realized there were angry roars, which actually sounded more pained than anything she realized. She came around the corner quickly to see Trixie getting swiped at by a full-grown manticore.
“TRIXIE!” she yelled in vain. The beast’s paw came down on top of her, and she disappeared in a puff of smoke. Wait. Not smoke. “Mist,” she realized. Trixie came into Twilight’s view—the real Trixie this time—and she conjured up a thick mist that consumed both of them. Some loud smacks were heard, and Twilight could tell each one was Trixie being struck. There were only four or five of them though, and the number of smaller smacks heard made it obvious that Trixie was winning. One last smack was heard along with a loud thud, and finally the mist dispersed, revealing Trixie as the victor. Twilight stared at Trixie in the same state of amazement that everypony else did. She, as well as everypony else, came to the jaw dropping conclusion—and truth—that Trixie was the famous Mist Mare. Twilight ran after Trixie as she trotted away.
“I guess you’re not all smoke and mirrors anymore huh?” Twilight joked nervously.
“No mirrors, just mist,” Trixie responded. She stumbled slightly.
“Trixie, you’re bleeding!” Twilight cried out.
“I noticed,” the Mist Mare deadpanned, “This is not the first time I’ve been wounded believe me.” She stumbled back to her trailer.
“We need to get you to the hospital!” Twilight insisted. Trixie believed otherwise.
“I take care of myself.” She trotted into her trailer, lit up the stove, and put a pot of water on it. She laid down on her bed, quickly pulling out a box and opening it. Twilight saw it was full of surgical thread, gauze, curved needles, and skin epoxy (not to mention other odds and ends). She quickly sterilized the wound with cotton balls dipped in alcohol. Twilight thought that would be painful, but the mare didn’t so much as wince.
“Trixie, let me help you,” Twilight insisted.
“If you want to help,” Trixie threaded the needle and levitated it to her, “Sterilize that for me.”
“Sterilize,” Twilight repeated simply with a slight shrug. She took at in her magic and started staring at it, trying to cleanse it with her mind by the looks of it. Trixie noticed and shot her a look.
“In the boiling water,” Trixie deadpanned.
“Oh,” Twilight said sheepishly. Trixie rolled her eyes while putting pressure on her side. “Kinda out of it at the moment, sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Trixie assured her as she took the needle back, “It’s not everyday after all that you find out one of the worst mares you ever knew has become a hero. I know I’d be shocked.”
“You weren’t one of the worst!” Trixie stared at her with an eyebrow raised. “Well…okay you were up there, but you weren’t one of the worst.” Trixie sighed. She knew Twilight would, and expected her to think little of her back then. That’s why she was here now though.
“Maybe I…I have become a better pony, but I don’t care about the glory,” Trixie explained as she continued putting stitches in herself, which Twilight was having a hard time watching, “I know that seems strange, but that is because of you.”
“So you blame me?” Twilight deadpanned.
“No!” Trixie said quickly, accidentally pulling the needle through too fast, “Agh! I’m fine really!” Trixie was quick to insist, knowing full well how concerned Twilight was for everypony’s well being. An admirable trait to be sure.
“You really shouldn’t be doing that yourself,” Twilight gripped.
“I’ve done this more times than I care to count, Twilight,” Trixie explained to her somewhat melodramatically, “I’ve been doing this for the last ten years. I took a small surgical class after I had to pray somepony would find me before I bled out in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yikes,” Twilight muttered under her breath.
“Nonetheless. ‘Blame’ would be to imply something bad happened because of you,” Trixie corrected, quickly to steering them back to the topic at hoof, “What happened was something good. I’m here to thank you for setting me straight, now that I fully understand my personal whys.” Now Twilight was plain dumbfounded.
“Thank me?”
“Let me explain what happened,” Trixie cut her off quickly, still focusing on her work, “After I left Ponyville I had nothing left. That trailer was my home, and the ursa minor crushed it. After that I decided no beast would ever get the better of me again, so I started training as much as I could. I even built up my speed by purposefully causing avalanches to dodge the oncoming rocks. I built up my physical body too, and since illusion was all I could do I decided to use that to my advantage. Since beasts have such simple minds I started using mist-based spells. My now signature fog and mist clones are what I came up with. I became a bit of a loner, a nomad, always on my own. A few saved towns later I had enough to live off of, but I never took more than I needed. I didn’t want to anymore.
“All that time training and fighting beasts changed something in me that I couldn’t understand. When I won I was happy, but it wasn’t for glory, gratitude, reward, adrenaline, or even just for the sake of winning. I never fought anything other than beasts either. More than one pony, griffon, mule what have you has tried to pick a fight with me. I just hold them back with levitation until they’re dragged off and arrested. It wasn’t until the most recent one that I understood what had changed, and why I was happy when I won, yet still so humble somehow. That’s why I came back.
“My answer was that…it was self-worth that I felt. Something I did meant something for somepony else. I was actually doing it all for the right reason. My only question now is: how did it take me so long to figure it out?” Twilight listened attentively, actually fascinated by Trixie’s story. The navy blue mare cut the thread and place her equipment back in its box.
“You came all this way—back to Ponyville all the way from Fillydelphia—just to tell me that you’ve changed?” Twilight asked. Trixie smiled at her, but she didn’t stand up, lest she pull her stitches out too quickly.
“I came to thank you for helping me become somepony that I can smile at when I look in the mirror,” Trixie corrected happily. Twilight was a little confused.
“What do I have to do with it?” she asked.
“You started me on this path by showing me real strength, modesty, and compassion for others.” Twilight’s features softened. “If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be who I am today. Regardless of whether or not those two provoked your actions by leading an ursa into town.” Trixie finished with a deadpan delivery. Twilight understood now. Everything that had happened to Trixie was because of her, but she considered it all a blessing.
“I’m…glad I could help, Trixie,” Twilight smiled softly, “You should stay with me for the night, and I’m not asking.” Twilight narrowed her eyes at the battered mare, who couldn’t help but give a small laugh in response.
“Don’t I owe you enough as it is?” she joked.
“Consider it a gift then.” Trixie gave a happy sigh.
“If you insist,” she conceded.
