Capes

The stage was glittering and glorious. The spotlight was bright and the audience was in awe as Jolly Showcolt started his dazzling magic show. The acts were simple, ever so, but in their simplicity there also was bedazzlement and marvelous displays of skill and talent that Jolly was known for. Juggling acts, the sword box, and so much more.

Young Trixie’s eyes were glued. She had never known anything like this before her parents, a couple of old farm ponies, brought her out one starry afternoon for her fifth birthday. That morning had been dark, her father nuzzling her awake, speaking of how special her day was going to be. They needed to set out early, a long cart ride into the far city of Manehattan where he promised her one of the best days of her life. Trixie, tired as she was, arose herself from her silent dreaming. She had seen a huge, ever-expanding field of beautiful and vividly colored flowers, but her dream would never match the amazement she felt at the one, the only, THE Showcolt’s spectacular display that same night. The stars above her seemed to applaud at his mastery of magic and mystery. As the show ended, Trixie could only think of one thing.

I want to do that.

After the show, a young Trixie picked up a stick with her magic, waving it around like a magician and, using all her magic, making miniscule sparks appear in the air about her. As she tried, she watched as her skills were nowhere near Jolly’s. Her sparkles and spell-made fireworks faded over time, and she began to lose her hope. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for it? Her magic had always been weak and simple; levitation was fine, but she found herself sweating at so many simple and weak light effects.

With one last wave of the stick wand, Trixie set off another flash. But unlike the rest, this one was bright, brilliant, and colorful. Her eyes took it all in, amazed at what she had just done.

“That was one nice little flare you did, little one.”

Trixie spun on her heels, only to see nothingness where she had heard the voice. Who said that? What said that?

“I’m right here!” the voice came again, this time to her left.

Trixie spun again, this time catching sight of a single glowing light, floating in front of her with a near blinding brightness. She was forced to look down, shielding her eyes with her hooves, but when she raised them again all she could see was magic.

All she could see was Jolly Showcolt standing in front of her.

“What’s your name?” Jolly asked, a smile on his face as he stepped closer, hovering over her like the flares she had watched him create only a half hour ago.

“I’m… Tri… Trixie…” was all she could mutter, shy in front of her newly-acquired hero.

“Ahh, Trixie? That’s hardly a show name!” Jolly stated, obviously not impressed. “Why don’t we work on it a bit?”

“But… Trixie’s the only name I have!” she protested.

“Nonsense! Every star has their show name; it just takes some time to find it. Now, let’s see… you need something strong, something extravagant to adorn your shows. How about…

“The Great and Powerful Trixie!”

“Trixie! Trixie, wake up! We need to get on our chores!”

The Great and Powerful Trixie did not enjoy being jostled from her favorite dream. The precious memory faded from her vision as she awoke to the reality of her situation; young Oleander prodding her awake.

“Tri… I mean, I will come in a minute. Just let Tri… me… prepare.”

She had spoken in the third person for so long that this forced adjustment was harder than she thought it would have been. It was like re-learning how to walk after overcoming a tragic illness.

Oleander, after a brief nod, bolted off to continue with his chores. Now with nobody around, Trixie pulled herself out of the warm bed. A floating brush approached her, pulling her unkempt mane into its proper shape. A warm glass of water found itself hugging her lips, offering her a well-needed morning drink.

A sack of seeds presented itself to her, with a need to be planted.

Trixie had been at the farm for about ten days now, having recovered from her flu in full. With nowhere to go, Trixie had taken on more farm work than she was used to. Luckily her unicorn magic made the need for her to perform more manual labor unnecessary, but she still wasn’t content with the simplicity of her new, hopefully temporary life.

The farm was always bustling; Trixie would have never guessed that flowers required so much maintenance. Apparently there must be a demand, or else they wouldn’t be pushing to have so much to supply. Trixie’s timing had been, as far as she was concerned, bad. She had landed smack dab in the middle of their busiest season.

The show mare started off with more menial tasks, but today was her first time planting the seeds. With her early life as a farming filly she had learned a little about proper farming, but her parents spoiled her with only the easiest of tasks. Now she had to do something real, and it wasn’t pleasant.

“You’re not aligned right; you need to be in proper rows!” corrected Buckwheat as Trixie misplanted several flowers.

“Well, if you want them all aligned so well, why don’t you dig the holes yourself?” Trixie replied sharply, not fond of being yelled at.

“You’re gonna need to learn sometime; if I keep at ya, you might get it sometime this century.”

“Are you making fun of Tri… me?”

“Heck yea. You’re givin’ me attitude, you’re gonna get insults. Now stop whining and get to work.”

The day seemed to last forever, much to Trixie’s disdain. She couldn’t do anything right, was what it seemed to her, and Buckwheat’s prodding and poking didn’t help add to her “happy” mood at the time. At one point, she even spilled the whole seed bag, scattering a good supply on the ground. Buckwheat forced her to pick up the seeds by hoof; no magic allowed.

“Are you mad? I could be done in a second if I just used my magic.”

“And what’ll that teach you? That magic is the cure to all of your problems? We’re all earth ponies here; get yourself a little dirty and pick up those seeds. If I see one lick of magic, you’re outta here!”

“This is stupid! You’re a mad pony, Buckwheat.”

“That’s what I would have to do if I were in your shoes. Luckily I’m not.”

Not wanting to lose her current sleeping arrangements, the angered unicorn began her menial task, scraping the seeds with her hooves and trying her best not to crush them when she placed them back inside the bag. On a couple of occasions she had to use her teeth. The mud wasn’t all too tasty at all, and more than once was she ready to kick everything to the curb and use her magic, but Buckwheat stopped her at every try.

After all the seed was back in the bag Trixie started to plan again, forced to go slower by her overseer and host. Not one seed was allowed to be even slightly misaligned; if it were, she would be forced to replant.

“Are you seriously going to put THIS much thought into FLOWERS!? You really ARE a mad pony!” Trixie blurt out after a rather annoying misalignment forced her to replant twenty seeds.

“Ever heard sticks and stones, Miss Trixie? I certainly have some of those lying around; I don’t think you wanna meet ‘em. Keep workin’.”

The day didn’t end quickly, but when it did Trixie was all too willing to fall asleep upon her warm, comfortable bed.

“Trixie?”

The unicorn groaned, opening her eyes and looking up from the bed only to see nothing. Was her mind messing with her? With another yawn, Trixie attempted to drift back to sleep when…

“Down here, Trixie!”

Trixie snapped her eyes open, looking down at the side of her bed to notice a familiar face; young Petunia.

“What do you want? Can’t you see Tri… I… I’m trying to sleep?”

“You said you’d teach us some show work, Trixie!”

“Not now. I need to sleep.”

“Aww, come on! You’ve said that every night so far; show us some of your tricks!”

The bane of Trixie’s life as of that moment; pestering, whining little fillies.

“Fine, fine.” Groaned the tired show pony, shuffling her feat to the side of the bed. She couldn’t really tell the kid to just buzz off, lest her father pick up on it.

Petunia led Trixie to the door of the house, quietly opening it and sneaking out towards a small, grass-filled area behind the house. The two noticed Oleander  already sitting out in the field, waiting patiently as he watched them approach.

“Have you waited here every night for me?” Trixie asked, finally starting to get a grip of the first person thing.

“Yep. I’m so happy you finally came!” Oleander said, smiling with a wide grin.

“Will you do a show for us? Show us how it’s really done, Trixie?” Petunia piped in.

“I’m a bit out of practice. Does it have to be to…”

“PLEEEEEEASE!?”

The level of cute in a young filly’s eyes, doubled between the two of them, could make a river stop flowing if they tried hard enough. Despite her greatness, Trixie was no match for their magical powers.

“Just wait until you’re older…” Trixie muttered quietly enough that they couldn’t hear as she nodded her head in agreement.

The two fillies had prepared a makeshift stage, utilizing the farm’s laundry line for their makeshift curtains. Trixie immediately felt like the stage was below her, but the child gaze magic had already worked its power. She was trapped.

“Watch and be amazed at the Great and Powerful Trixie!” she called, stepping through the curtains with a tired-but-wide grin on her face. “Behold as your eyes feast upon feats never witnessed by pony eyes!”

With no time to prepare, Trixie’s performance was rather simple and routine, but still beautiful to observe. She played with light and fireworks in front of the two, crafting images out of thin air. All in all, it was a rather simple and elementary light show, but Trixie had learned from her past performances how to add her own flare to it. The two fillies tried their hardest not to blink as they watched, in their own childish awe as her Greatness allowed them to watch her magnificent skills.

The show lasted over twenty minutes before Trixie started to run dry on both energy and material. With one last glittering explosion, Trixie opened the curtains, bowed to her audience, stepped back, and shut them once again. The two fillies hit their hooves together, cheering and applauding at the lightshow they had just witnessed that starry night.

“Now, The Great and Powerful Trixie needs her sleep. Leave me to my bed, if you would be so kind.” Trixie stated, a hint of menace in the last sentence to imply it wasn’t as much of a request as it was a demand.

“Thank you, Trixie!” chimed Oleander.

“That was awesome!” yelled Petunia.

Trixie, at this, bowed again and, with a yawn, turned back towards the house.

The mattress was even more inviting than it had been a half hour before, as if calling to her to rest her weary mane and sleep the night away. The room was dark, the last candle blown out, and all was silent.

“Nice show ya did.”

Trixie jumped at this, looking around in the dark, when in the distance she spotted a door at the far end of the house close tight. Trixie didn’t ask, nor did she care.

All she wanted was her well-deserved sleep.