Paradox energy overloads and no pilot? Still a bad combination for a TARDIS. Back and forth, to and fro, the blue box bounced through the time vortex, spinning its occupants all the while. At the moment, that was the least of their concerns.
Doctor fought Master, as both struggled for control. To the outward eye, the clash resembled a strange seizure. Limbs jerked one way and then another. Mouth spit words in different tongues. Indeed, it could have been a seizure, albeit a rather violent one. However, the ghostly ripple that seemed to jump throughout the spasming stallion was evidence enough that there was something greater at work.
The Scared and Powerless Trixie looked on this scene without a clue as to what she could do or how she could help. Unfortunately, the simple truth was that the absence of evidence meant the evidence of absence. There was nothing to be done.
By this time, the struggle was mainly an internal one. Both consciousnesses had enough psychic training to exert their strength of will. But one, with centuries of domination and hypnotism, simply had more experience than the other. The Master should have been weakened from his journey across dimensions and the power of the Elements being forced against him. Somehow, his desperation only made him stronger. He was the ultimate survivor. And he had the Doctor on the defensive in his own body.
Just give in, Doctor. Let it happen.
Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not quite done yet.
Not yet, but soon. You're out of trump cards. No one is going to come to your aid this time. Not in here.
You might be surprised. I have a very powerful imagination.
Hah! A fighter to the bitter end! Tell me, did you make jokes when you destroyed the Time Lords? Did you laugh in the face of oblivion with your swagger and your “Brilliant?”
Stop it. At least I fought. At least I tried.
Oh, but I never claimed to be the soldier. I'm just a survivor, Doctor. Always have been. It just so happens that the best way to survive has always been to master my enemies. You are the one who lives the lie. Wearing the title of the healer while you destroy species, dethrone kings, mock time itself.
Stop.
Just let it happen. You have always said how much you wanted to keep an eye on me. Give in. Save your strength. Who knows how long you might hold out on the fringes of my consciousness? You might be able to influence me for centuries. You could save lives, just like you always wanted, and never have to suffer the guilt of putting anyone in jeopardy. Think about it, Doctor. The last of the Time Lords, united!
You're not a Time Lord. Not anymore. I don't even know what you are now.
That's easy. I'm the Master.
I'll blow up the TARDIS with both of us inside before I let you loose on this universe again, you realize that?
I think not! Not with your companion in here with us.
He was right. The Doctor had not wanted to consider the possibility that should the Master invade him, he might consume him, as well, but he had prepared for it. If it came to that, then he still could have detonated the TARDIS, as a last ditch effort. He would be gone and the TARDIS would be gone, but so would the Master. It may not have been ideal, but it was also not the worst compromise he could think of. But, in that plan, they had been the only ones aboard.
Trixie, with her dumb concern, had effectively ruined that idea. Even if it was the right thing to do, even if it was the only thing to do, he was not going to willingly lose another companion. She had earned more than to die on his fool errand. He had earned more than having to kill another friend. They were out of options.
“Trixie . . . .”
Hah! Saying goodbye?
“Doctor? Is that you? What is it? What do you need?” She came closer, struggling to hear his weak voice over the crash and clatter of the spiraling TARDIS.
“I need . . . I need you to . . . .”
What are you doing, Doctor?
“Yes? What is it?”
“I need you . . . to kill me.”
WHAT?
“WHAT?”
“You need to kill me, Trixie. It's the only way. He's . . . he's winning.”
Doctor!
“But I can't do that! What about you? What about me?”
“The TARDIS will get you somewhere safely.”
Don't ignore me!
“But what about you, Doctor? I can't. You don't deserve this. I don't deserve this.”
“If you don't . . . I'll die anyway. And he won't.”
What about what I deserve, Doctor? It is my turn! It is the Master's time!
“But . . . but you'll come back, right? You'll regenerate. Like you said.”
“I don't know.”
“You have to know!”
“I don't know. . . I don't know how much regeneration energy I spent on this form. I don't know if I even can regenerate from this form.”
DOCTOR! LISTEN TO ME!
“But it doesn't end like this! I know it doesn't! You haven't met me yet! All those years ago, in the forest! You never even met me! How can you die before you met me?”
“Time can be rewritten.”
“But I don't want it to! Doctor . . . you're my friend. You're my only friend!”
“Then believe in me.”
Doctor, please. I'm sorry. Just stop this. We can share the body equally. I'm sorry, really!
“. . . okay.”
“Thank you.”
No no no no no no no no!
“I'm not really sure how. I've never really done anything like this before. I don't want it to hurt.”
“Oh, I'm sure if anypony can do it, the Great and Powerful Trixie can.”
I HATE YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME? I HATE YOU! I WILL ALWAYS COME BACK! ALWAYS!
“Of course. Heh. Was there ever any doubt?”
DOCTOOOOOOOOR!
“Thank you.”
She wanted to say it back. She wanted to say something. But the power draining into her horn rose up from every fiber of her being. It was all she could do to stand as the spell gained strength and everything else weakened. There was no strength left to think of the words, let alone voice them. So she said it anyway. Then the light consumed them all.
There in her bunk aboard her family’s wagon, Trixie sat, worried and alone. Maybe I’m not special, she thought morosely. Maybe there’s not anything about me that’s important. Only then, seemingly out of nowhere, did she hear it.
VWOOOOORP! VWOOOOOORP!
And then the rain stopped.
The difference was like night and day, to the point that Trixie found herself wondering if Princess Celestia had finally heard her pleas and changed the world just for her. Of course, that was silly. She was just a little filly, who could know how far from the capital, and not even a special one at that. Even so, it may not have been divine intervention, but it still felt like a miracle. One of the great marvels of magic her father always told of in his stories. Her thoughts started shifting from those of failure to dreams of what wonderful adventure might be waiting for her out there, beyond the rain-soaked fields. Perhaps she would receive a boon from the mysterious Mare in the Murk. Or she could receive her heart's desire from her Fairy Godpony.
By the time her father finally poked his head in to ask if she felt like stopping to camp for the evening, since the weather had finally dried up, young Trixie could not say “Yesyesyesyesyesyes!” fast enough.
Stepping off her family's wagon, she saw the rest of the troupe milling about, leaving their own wagons to set up camp for the night. Her mother expected her to help prepare things, of course, but everypony in the troupe knew how anxious she had been lately for a chance to stretch her legs and just be a filly for a while. Nopony was going to say anything if she wandered off for a bit of an adventure, just so long as she stayed close.
So off she went, into the forest that lined the road. Never underestimate a filly's need to play. For that matter, never underestimate a pony's need to play at any age. For Trixie, it was transcendent. After what seemed like an eternity cooped up in that cramped wagon with nopony her age to talk to, the chance to be free was something extraordinary. Those woods were potential itself. She could find anything out there, among the trees and bushes, where her parents couldn't see. There might be a monster hiding in a cave somewhere or stumble upon a sinister plot in a nearby camp. She might climb the tallest cliff to discover her destiny or meditate by the side of a magic tree to find her purpose. The world itself could have been in those woods.
What she found instead, was a brown stallion with an hourglass on his flank.
“Hello?” Her parents were theater folk. She had been around strangers all her life, whether they were performers who traveled with the troupe for a while or an audience they found in town. As such, Trixie had never been told not to talk to strangers. Maybe she had been told to be cautious, but caution was relative when you lived with ponies who threw knives and ate fire. Either way, the strange stallion did not look like he would be any threat. In fact, he looked injured. Tired. There was mud and sticks tangled in his tail, like he had crawled this far from somewhere. Trixie thought that maybe he had been looking for help, so she turned to bring some. Then he spoke.
“Hello there.” His voice was weak, but kind. He had a strange accent, like maybe he was from Trottingham or somewhere close to it. “I'm Doctor Hooves. What's your name?” Young Trixie did not quite know what to make of the injured stranger, but when she saw that smile, it was like the sun had raised in the forest.
“That's a weird name.”
“I suppose it is.”
Well, at least he was agreeable. “I'm Trixie.”
The stallion's face became harder to see in the twilight. Whatever face he made, it was masked by shadow. Trixie felt like that was important. When his face appeared again though, it was shaped in a happy smile. “Of course it is! Brilliant to meet you, Miss Trixie. A pleasure.”
“You look hurt. If you're a Doctor, can't you fix yourself?”
“Oh, I only seem to make things worse for myself, I'm afraid.” Trixie thought he looked like he should have been in pain. Despite how his injuries looked though, he beamed up at her all the while. “But I hear some unicorns, some of the ones very adept at magic, have been known to cure the greatest ills known to ponydom. How about it?”
“Oh,” the little unicorn blushed sheepishly, “I don't know any healing magic. I don't really know very much magic at all. I'm,” she trailed off, the rain dripping down her thoughts once more, “not very special.”
“Nonsense!” He said it so loud, Trixie half-expected her parents to start shouting after her. “There's more than one way to heal somepony. Go on, Trixie, show me something amazing. Put on a show!”
A magic show was not something the little unicorn had ever considered before. There were all manner of acts in her family's troupe, many of which seemed like a kind of magic, and there were even some unicorns. Most of the unicorns had very minimal magic though, and only a few really used them as part of their acts. Her father could magnify and change his voice for a story, but that was it. Magic had just never been a big part of her life. Still, she had searched high and low for an act to bring to her family and a magician was among the handful of acts she had not had the opportunity to try. With everypony usually so busy, finding a captive audience had always been a tougher obstacle than embarrassment. Now that the biggest problem was out of the way, what reason was there not to try?
So, she tried. She did not know how to do many specific spells, but she quickly found that she had something of an aptitude for winging it. Horning it?
Sticks snapped off the ground and made little pirouettes, waltzing with the fallen leaves. Messages began to appear in the viscous mud, cheering with “Hurrays!” and “You Can Do Its!” The one “Get Better Soon!” was especially touching. She clutched one stick in her hooves, broke it in half, then displayed it again, entirely whole. When she tried performing it with a bundle, the results were not as favorable, but three out of five ain't bad. As the performance went on, Trixie became bolder, adding flourishes and introductions to some of the tricks. It was tentative at first, but the shyness faded quickly. Finally, the showstopper: Her horn glowed its brightest yet and a final flicker of light shot off, arcing through the air. At the height of its arc, the light made a small explosion, illuminating the immediate area with brilliant colored sparks.
It was far more magic than Trixie had ever used before, but it was also far more fun than she had ever had. The tricks had come easier and easier the more she went along and her confidence had grown and grown. By the end of the performance she was panting like a race pony. She was also smiling harder than she had in months.
“Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! Look at you, Great and Powerful Trixie! Magician extraordinaire!” Not the slightest bit of deceit entered the stallion's tone. He just watched her grinning, the most appreciative audience she had ever seen.
“Was it really that good? Did you really like it? I mean, I know the firework was kind of small, but I tried really hard to make sure there were a bunch of colors in it and I—”
“It was the best performance I've ever seen. In fact,” slowly he stirred, his limbs stretching, as he pushed himself up, standing at full height, his wounds apparently healed, “I feel better already!”
Trixie was flabbergasted. “Wow! Did I really do that?”
“Course you did. Never underestimate the power of magic. However you happen to find it.”
The little unicorn nodded vigorously, long past hiding the awe she wore plainly on her face.
“You're a very special unicorn, Trixie Lulamoon.” Had she told him her whole name? She hated Lulamoon. “The day may come when you realize just how special you are. And on that day, we'll meet again.”
“You promise?”
“I always keep the promises I make to my friends. Now,” he straightened himself up more, his eyes leaving her for the first time, “stand back. I have a magic trick of my own.”
“What're you going to do?”
One last time, he looked down at her, with ancient eyes and an ageless grin. “Disappear.”
With that, the stallion started to glow. It was not like the glow that had been around Trixie's horn at first, except the light was of a much paler hue. The light began to grow. Pure and white and covering every inch of the stallion's body, until no brown was left. Then it all exploded.
An aura of light emanated from the pony's very skin, like his whole body was a unicorn's horn. Beams of light shot out from each of his legs and even his head. What was seconds before a dark forest was quickly glowing brighter and brighter. Trixie could hear her mother's calls for her from off beyond the trees, her attention no doubt drawn by the strange light show on display. Her body roiled against her mind. One wanting instinctively to run toward the voice of safety, the other wanting to stay, curious at just what was going on. When her new friend began to rise into the air, supported by only his back legs, Trixie started to falter. When the form within the light finally began to change shape, she lost it.
The little unicorn, still young and fragile and tired, was too shocked by what was happening to wait around any longer. She fled the forest as quick as her tiny legs could carry her, eyes locked shut as she listened for the sound of her mother's voice. With every step she took, every step she went farther and farther away from the magic stallion in the forest, she cursed herself.
When she tripped over a branch, she cursed herself for getting scared. When she started to look back but shut her eyes instead, she cursed herself for being a coward. When she dashed into her mother's waiting embrace, her eyes streaked with tears, she cursed herself for running away from her only chance at a real adventure. She was inconsolable to the point of barely stopping her tears when her mother pointed out to her that she had somehow earned her cutie mark, a magic wand and a crescent like the beautiful moon for which she was named.
Over the months to come, Trixie would lie awake in her family's wagon and curse herself time and again. Until, one day, she didn't. On that day, she finally decided that her life had changed. She had changed. There was a new day she had to wait for, the day she was going to show her friend just how special she was. The day she could thank him for making the rain stop. The day that little Trixie Lulamoon decided all this was the day that the Great and Powerful Trixie was born.