“Welcome one and all, to this glorious show! Prepare to be amazed by the wonderful powers and magic of the one, the only, the Great and Powerful…”
Hobo.
There wasn’t much else you could call Trixie now as she sat outside her small, magically-assembled shack built out of scrap wood she found. The shack, poor in design and weak in materials, constantly required Trixie to rebuild on a regular basis, gathering spare sticks lying about finish assembling her makeshift, but functional, twig-built housing. This was obviously below her, but despite her boasting she honestly had no choice anymore; after about five months of travelling around from town to town she realized that nobody wanted to see her spectacles anymore.
“You’re not the kind of mare we want in our show tonight.”
“We don’t have room for your act.”
“Go. Just go.”
The memories danced like mocking parasprites in her head, laughing at her misfortune and misery; rejection after rejection, obviously influenced by her show in Ponyville. Her hooves stomped, venting her frustration on what could have been valuable twigs for her new home.
Nearby the hut lay her hat and cape, torn and dirty. The large rip down the side of the cape told a story of a weary unicorn fighting a tall oak tree, unwilling to divulge its newfound treasure. Wind and rain had assaulted her throughout her endeavor. The sound of ripping cloth had not been pleasing to Trixie’s ears as she made one final pull to release her precious cloak.
The holes in the hat told a different tale; a tale of thorns and, for Trixie, many cuts. While the cape had suffered a branch, the hat found perched just out of reach atop a taunting thorn bush. Dealing with this had taken much longer for her, time appearing to slow down in her fight with the beast of a plant.
“Give Trixie her hat, you ugly bush!” she cried, pulling against the thorn bush with her levitation spell, her efforts being halted by the tight grip the bush had on it. It seemed like forever until she had been able to retrieve it.
The road beside her remained barren and dark, the night rapidly approaching. Only the light of her magic kept her vision from going black. The shadows before her waved limply with the fluctuating brightness coming from her horn, pulling strings tighter and boards into their proper arrangement. Her eyes were in a tight squint, fatigue and the cold eating away at her magic. She watched as the ropes fell into perfect knots, and smiled at the extending shadows and increase in light.
Wait, more light?
Trixie’s first thought was that her magnificence as a magician was glowing, but even she couldn’t keep up that level of ego for long. Her curiosity besting her, the showmare spun on her heels into a combat pose, only to find a single stallion standing before her.
“What do you want with The Great and Powerful Trixie? Can you not see that I am completing my… sleeping arrangements?” she blared towards the lamp-holding stallion before her. It probably wasn’t that great an idea to be threatening him as she was, but Trixie’s pride didn’t allow her to come to any other conclusions.
The stallion set his lamp down and smirked. A small chuckle escaped his lips, which sent Trixie into an inner rage. Her supply of common sense was strong enough to prevent her from attacking her new acquaintance, but it didn’t prevent her from yelling more.
“You… you’re laughing? And for what reason? Are the shadows of the trees making puppet shows for you? Well, even if they were they fail in comparison to the shadow puppet show that The Great and Powerful Trixie could perform, but that is the only possibility that comes to her mind. Stop your chuckling and explain your reasoning for hovering over Trixie. Are you a fan of her or something? If you are, I am not signing anything for…”
“You really don’t know when to shut up, now do ya?”
What? But… what? How dare he be so abrasive and speak to her in such a tone! Nopony should have the guts, neigh, the gall to perform such a heinous act to her greatness.
“Look here, miss Trixie, I’m not going to repeat myself. You are on my property; these woods are not public land. If you’d like to sleep here, you’d better have something to offer, or I’m going to have you dragged out of here.”
“Your land? But Trixie has seen no stakes for property lines, no signs, no…”
At this, the stallion stamped his hoof to garner her attention and, after acquiring it, directed it towards a sign hanging nearly of view. After a brief moment’s hesitation and a glare at the stallion, Trixie walked over to stand before it. The colt shuffled behind her, gripping the lantern in his teeth again. As the light covered the sign, Trixie could make out red-painted letters.
Cash Crop’s Private Property; No Trespassing.
“Now, who’s been trespassing on my land?” asked the stallion, who Trixie assumed was Cash Crop.
“Hmmph. You should feel honored that The Great and Powerful Trixie even set foot upon your farmland. You should thank her.”
“Ma’am, I don’t know who you think YOU are, but I’m well aware of who I happen to be. I’m Cash Crop, a farmer, and I don’t enjoy having people trespass on my property. Now, why don’t you do yourself a favor and scamper off before this conversation goes south?”
Trixie was tempted to protest more, as she always was, but his size, and the fact that he was scraping the dirt menacingly with his hoof told her that would be unwise. With this, the unicorn let him have one last dirty glare before wandering into the pitch black, putting the last of her magic into making a brighter light with her horn.
It was time for Trixie to find another stage.
Pitch black? Trixie could cope with this using her glowing magic. Cold? Her hat and cape provided moderate protection from the harsh breeze.
Rain?
Trixie wasn’t pleased at the performance that the sky decided to enact upon her. Or, in this case, the pegasi’s planning. Why, of all days, must they pick now to make the clouds attack her with their rampant tears? It didn’t take more than half a minute to be completely soaked, and after that the extra rain was just adding insult to injury. The Great and Powerful was now The Damp and Miserable.
The darkness around her scared her ever so, though she refused to admit this to herself as she pushed forward. The glow of her horn made a somewhat pretty display of the rain immediately before her, though with all the misery of the past few weeks she didn’t pay any attention to this display. She was more focused on finding out exactly where she was, which was incredibly hard when in what felt like a black forest void.
“Let us see… she’s been on foot for nearly a half an hour now, the rain is assaulting Trixie, and she is finding it difficult to find anywhere to stay. What is this, an empty field? Trixie could have sworn that she was in a forest no less than five minutes ago. What Trixie would give for a map, neigh, a bed.”
At this, Trixie fell. The ground, in its insolence, decided to reach up at her and snatch her from her balance, sending her tumbling into the grass and mud. Her immediate reaction was to spit everything out, as would be anypony’s reaction. Her next was to do something unbefitting of her greatness; cry.
She couldn’t deny misery for any longer, but her crying wasn’t loud and noticeable. Her pride still prevented her from making a spectacle of her somewhat-self-inflicted suffering, despite having no audience present to watch. Regardless, she did weep for a long time before she fell into a restless, uncomfortable sleep out in the middle of the storm.
“Petunia, get back here! You’ve got chores to do, sis!”
A young filly bolted out into the flower filled fields of Mayflower Meadows, laughing loudly as she taunted her brother, chasing slowly behind her.
“Catch me if ya can, ya slowpoke!” She called, looking over her shoulder. Sadly this was her first mistake as she found herself running into something wet before falling over the very same something. Her fall was luckily broken by the soft grass, but that didn’t help ease her annoyance as her brother Oleander would now catch up to her and force her into her chores. She hated counting the seed.
“Finally caught up to… woah…”
This was not the reaction that Petunia expected. Woah? Woah what? She didn’t understand his sudden surprise. That is, she didn’t understand until all of three seconds later when her eyes fell upon the very same thing that Oleander had discovered; an unconscious unicorn with what looked like a wizard’s hat and cape, lying in the field and shivering badly.
“Oleander, what’re you doin’? Don’t just stand there; get ma and pa!”
“Oh… uh… right!”
Oleander spun on his feet, asking no questions as he bolted off to get their parents. Neither of them could have moved her by themselves, both being too young and too small. Petunia, meanwhile, sat beside the unicorn, placing a hoof on her forehead immediately below the horn.
“That’s a mighty bad fever she’s got. She probably got caught in that storm last night.” Petunia said to herself, looking with worry at the unicorn. This wasn’t her preferred way of getting out of her chores.
The spectacles were brilliant! The show was spectacular! And most important of all, Trixie was in the spotlight, soaking in all the applause and cheers as to her glorious performance. After underestimating her for so long, Trixie found a stage that truly realized her greatness.
“She’s wakin’ up, pa!”
Trixie turned, trying to find the source of the words. Who dared to interrupt her performance with meaningless jabber? Her eyes fell upon a black form, what appeared to be a colt with pure white eyes, head pointed straight at her.
“I’m coming!”
The show mare spun on her heels to glare at another black form, staring still with its blank eyes. Just as she was about to speak, the ground under her fell apart, widening in a huge gap of oddly shaped tiles breaking away as if frightened by what was to come. There was nothing but her screaming as she fell and fell and…
“Miss, are you alright? We were worried sick about’cha, what with you having been out cold in our flower fields all night.”
Trixie finally managed to bring the world into focus, taking in what was around her. A small, comfortable farm house, sheets covering her, and standing above her were a well-built colt, a worried-looking mare, and two sniffling fillies who began to smile ever so slightly as her eyes opened.
“Where… where is… is… Trixie?”
The family looked at each other, immediately cast into worry again. Had they missed somepony? She was alone when they found her; who was this Trixie?
“Um… miss? You were alone; there wasn’t any ‘Trixie’ with you when we found you.”
“I’m… T..Trixie.” For the first time in a while Trixie dropped her third-person speech, though it wouldn’t last long, “Where…?”
The fillies looked at each other, a bit confused but relieved. The colt sighed openly, happy to be rid of the scare.
“You’re at our farmhouse. We’re the Mayflowers, and this is Mayflower Meadows. I’m Buckwheat Mayflower, and these two fillies over here, Petunia and Oleander, found you this morning out in our fields. I had to carry you in; you were out cold. Did you get caught in that storm last night?”
“Trixie was in the s-storm... It was…” Before Trixie could complete her sentence, she felt a sudden uncontrollable shivering throughout her body, followed by painful coughing. She couldn’t remember anything from last night other than the black, cold, and rain; her thoughts were blank.
“Well, don’t you have anywhere to live? Why were you out wandering?” asked Petunia.
“Trixie has no home anymore, all thanks to that Ponyville show…”
“Ponyville show? I think I heard something about a performance in Ponyville about a month back…” started Buckwheat
“F-f-forget Trixie said… anything…” the unicorn said, shivering some more. This was not a pleasant time for her.
“That’s unimportant anyway. What’s important now is getting you on your feet again. You can stay until you get better, alright Trixie?”
Trixie attempted to open her mouth to offer a response, but was immediately interrupted by more coughing. She decided to offer a nod instead. At this point, Buckwheat stood aside to let the mare walk over, bringing another blanket over. She placed the blanket on top of the sheet forehead, adjusting it just so to be in the perfect spot, and smiled.
“I’m Iris Mayflower. I hope you feel better soon.” said the mare before bowing her head and moving away.
The two fillies stood by her bedside, watching her intently. Sadly, this only lasted so long.
“Oleander, Petunia! You get back to your chores; she needs to rest.”
Oleander, the more cooperative of the two, immediately walked off to work on chores. Petunia stood a second longer but, fearing the punishment, eventually offered a “Hope you feel better” to the ill unicorn and wandered off to count the seeds.
The door closed ever so gently, making no noise. Trixie shivered off to sleep, coiling up under the sheets to try and feel warmer.
About four days had passed since Trixie arrived on the Mayflower farm and, after very limited signs of recovery, the Mayflowers finally called for a doctor to come inspect her. Doctor Fever was a well respected doctor who was still willing to make house calls in this day and age, which was lucky for them since Trixie couldn’t remove herself from the bed just yet.
It didn’t take long for the doctor to realize what Trixie was suffering from. The family wasn’t surprised to hear “hypothermia” come out of his lips, but he made mention that she had definitely recovered from the worst of the symptoms and, at this point, she was mainly suffering from a bad flu which might take another day or two to recover.
Trixie was awake throughout the doctor visit, doing her best to take in the entirety of the situation. She was relieved, but didn’t enjoy having to force herself to sleep all day. The young fillies had done their best in trying to help keep her entertained, putting on small shows for her. She didn’t object, mostly because her throat hurt, and watched through their amateur plays. Despite her common self-absorbed attitude, Trixie couldn’t help but find the frolicking acts of the two young ones cute.
At other times, Trixie would engage in mostly one-sided conversations with Iris, learning of the farm and the family and the hard times they had to go through in the past. Trixie didn’t speak much, no matter how much she wanted to, but for once enjoyed hearing the stories of somepony else. The farm had been established not too long ago, but already the family was doing well with their flower business, selling all sorts of naturally-picked flowers from their fields. She spoke of it like it was her dream job, and Trixie could see the love in her eyes at her own stories. She reminded Trixie of herself, but much less boastful and more content. That and she didn’t speak in the third person.
Buckwheat didn’t spend too much time with her, mostly just exchanging brief “hellos” and helping to change her sheets and blankets on occasion. He was often too occupied with the work in the fields.
The family around Trixie seemed content in the simplicity of their lives, which she knew she would never be happy with. Regardless, they were ever so willing to help her, feed her, and keep her well when they could have simply left her out there. She counted her blessings which, up until the Mayflowers came by and helped her back to health, were few and far between.
The day after the doctor came, Trixie felt much better, finally able to speak for short periods without killing her throat and managing to make her way back onto her feet. She didn’t walk around all too much, however, as she was still off-balance and weak. The fillies were excited at her healing and, against their parents orders, pulled her outside to look at the fields. They were proud of their parents’ beautiful work.
“Trixie! Trixie! Come and look at the sunflowers! They’re in full bloom right now and they’re so beautiful and big!” Petunia called, running off and spinning in circles as she waited for Trixie to follow. The unicorn was in no rush, not feeling up to running anywhere.
“Trixie will get there when she does.” she stated simply, her voice not all too happy with them pushing her so hard. The normal sting in her voice wasn’t present, but she did make them well aware of her greatness with her volume. That being said, the effect of her speech died a little when she started coughing afterwards.
“Aww, can’t ya move any faster? We have so much to show ya!” Petunia grumbled.
“Yea! We needa show you the lilies, and the daffodils, and…”
“Trixie said she will get there when she does. Don’t rush her!” Trixie stated, cutting young Oleander off mid tangent.
“Hopefully you aren’t such a sour puss when yer all better…” Petunia said under her breath, quiet enough that Trixie couldn’t hear.
It took a good five minutes for the trio to arrive, but finally they found themselves standing before the grand and majestic sunflower stalks that Petunia had described earlier.
“They’re nice, but Trixie has seen better.” Trixie boasted.
“Aww, you must be fibbin’! These’re the biggest sunflowers this side of Manehatten!”
Trixie shivered a bit at the mention of the city, but didn’t say anything. She wasn’t fond of bringing up the subject.
“You do like ‘em, don’t ya Trixie?” Oleander asked, looking up at her with a disheartened frown. Trixie was about to continue her boast, but after the days she had spent with the fillies performing for her she didn’t want to dash all of their hopes, just some of them.
“Of… of course Trixie like them. Trixie just said she’s seen grander, but these are beautiful as well.” she replied, reassuming her proper stance.
“Well where’ve you seen better, huh Trixie? I ain’t ever seen any sunflowers prettier’n ours!” Petunia stated, a huge grin on her face,
“It was a long time back, in Trixie’s old hometown in the Mareson Village. One of our neighbors had this special trick up his sleeve to grow them nearly twice as big as the ones you have here.”
“Wow! Twice as big? Wouldn’t they fall over?” Petunia asked, amazed by this.
“Yes, but he was quite the colt. He had Trixie help him put up large poles by each sunflower and tied them to the poles with some string. Helped keep them upright for long enough to sell off to the market.” Trixie said, pride in her voice upon mentioning her hand in the treatment of the sunflowers.
“What was his trick, Trixie?”
“Trixie doesn’t recall, actually. It was so long ago.”
“Aww, now we’ll never get ours that big…” complained the two fillies.
Most ponies would try and comfort the two at this point, but Trixie wasn’t like most ponies.
“Of course you won’t. It only happened because The Great and Powerful Trixie was there to help.”
“You must be great at farming, Trixie!” Oleander said, smiling widely.
“But why isn’t your cutie mark a flower or something?” Petunia questioned in response.
“Trixie is not a farmer; she is a performer. The Great and Powerful Trixie is famous around Equestria for her spectacular shows and amazing spectacles that she brings for all pony eyes to see.”
The two ponies watched as Trixie used her weakened magic to create a few small fireworks around her person.
“Well you obviously ain’t going to put anyone in awe ‘til you’re all better.” Oleander stated bluntly, Petunia chuckling a bit.
“Yea. Our performances for ya were much better’n that.”
“Is that so? Trixie believes that when she is back on her feet, she could teach you a thing or two about showmanship. From her bedside, Trixie could tell you two were amateur at the arts.” Trixie boasted, smirking to herself before losing the mood of the speech with another coughing fit.
“I’m sure they’d love to learn a bit, Trixie, but right now we should get you back to the house. All the pollen is not going to help you with getting over your illness.”
Trixie and the fillies turned to notice Buckwheat standing before them, smiling.
“And these two have some more chores to do before the day ends.”
“Aww, but pa…” whined the two in unison.
“No buts! Back to work you two!”
The fillies dropped their heads, the excitement fading as they dragged their feet to doing their chores. When they were out of range, Buckwheat turned to Trixie with a grin.
“You’re quite the braggart, ain’t ya? So you really are that same showpony who boasted herself right into that whole Ursa Minor mess back in Ponyville,”
Trixie jumped at this, the subject she had been dreading finally rearing its head. What was he going to do? Kick her out? Laugh at her?
“You know, you really need to learn a thing or two yourself about manners before you go back into show business. From what I heard, your bragging nearly caused a big ‘ol mess of Ponyville when those two young’ns went and dragged the Ursa back with ‘em.”
“The Great and Powerful Trixie doesn’t need your advice.” Trixie stated with a huff, turning her head.
“But she does still need a bed and, if I’ve been hearing right, a home in general. You lost yer cart back in Ponyville; the reason we found you lying in our field was because you had nowhere to stay in that big ‘ol storm. Are you fond of the idea of something like that happening again?”
“Trixie is not fond of the idea, no.” muttered the unicorn.
“Then you won’t object to staying with us a bit longer. Our bed is open, like I’ve said, but if you wanna stick around then you’ll have to follow a few rules. When you can find a gig for yourself and get enough for a new cart or house or what have you, then you can head out.” Buckwheat explained.
Trixie kept silent at this, not liking the power situation. She didn’t enjoy being talked to like this, but she needed the bed.
“What are your conditions?”
“First off you’ll have to help out on the farm. Secondly, you’ll need to can the third person speakin’; it’s been annoying for a while, and I’m not fond of dealing with it much longer. Third, we expect you to be respectful of all of us, and to be nice to the kids. If you get out of place, you’ll have no place.”
Three simple requests, all of which made Trixie wretch on the inside. Manual labor? Stop referring to herself as she deserved to be? RESPECT? This man obviously didn’t know who he was talking to… or didn’t care. Trixie looked away, contemplating his conditions inside of her head. Could she do it? She needed somewhere to stay, and this was her only opening as far as she could see. With a heavy sigh, the unicorn nodded her head.
“Good. Now let’s get you back to bed, why don’t we?”
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.
