59w, 1dThe GREAT and POWERFUL TRIXIE
Trixie shifted uncomfortably during her sleep. At one point she was facing right, soon turning to the left. Her eyes were closed, exhausted from the ordeal she had to go through investigating the mystery of the mirror, but some part of her mind was still awake, still processing the vital task of straightening out her thoughts among many illusions and tricks she stored.
Even in her sleep she would remind herself who she was: The Great and Powerful Trixie. Hence her mission of sorting out the great magician’s mind continued, even when other ponies would have gladly embraced the Moon Princess’s benevolent blessing. Trixie was as busy as ever, devising, checking, thinking, and refining many ideas and tricks she could come up with. At the same time she busily wandered around her river of thoughts, keeping its flow and assuming the control.
Though she was indeed the Great and powerful Trixie, picking out her reality among countless branches of imagination, sailing her ship through the rough ocean of her unconsciousness was by no means an easy task. She was looking-if the term ‘look’ could be applied to her process of selecting the right string of thoughts to preserve her sanity and not to get lost on glassy worlds she had in her mind-for the particular thread that marked her world: where she never defeated Discord and Nightmare Moon; where she never befriended Twilight and other ponies; where Trixie was alone, in her shabby house located outside of Ponyville, dangerously close to the Everfree Forest, bringing her back the haunting memories of the star-bear.
Threads of red, blue and yellow flashed before her eyes. The threads multiplied then rapidly combined into one single giant thread, only to be burst into millions of thin long threads wiggling, reverberating, shaking, and wobbling. Maybe the colors represented something, like red for her anger. Just a conjecture Trixie came up with; this realm Trixie could hardly apply her knowledge and understanding from her reality.
Sounds, she heard sounds, indescribable melodies forever repeating certain part of the song she never heard before, sometimes whispering, and sometimes shouting, always in an eerie and foreboding tone. Again Trixie could not fathom how to interpret these sounds she was hearing. The only thing she could to was to keep searching for one piece of memory that anchored her to the world she lived in and take extra care not to fall for lies and deceptions she often imagined.
It was easy, actually fatally alluring, to indulge in otherworldly pleasure. Not only indulge, but be completely consumed by it. Like the mirror she found. What would Trixie be in such worlds? She could, if she really wanted, to take one road that caught her attention, whatever it would be. Trixie knew how to coordinate her thoughts; she saw countless streams stemmed from the deepest part of her consciousness. She figured out which one to cling on and which one to ignore as mere fantasies. She did not stray from her course.
But all she needed was just one small mistake to let everything fall apart so quickly that she would not have known what hit her. Like when the two asses Snips and Snails foolishly provoked the star-bear…she was hit hard, so hard that she could actually feel the physical pain aching all over her body, the realization of the big fiasco manifested into quantifiable affliction. When she gathered her wits, she was in the middle of Celestia-knows-where part of the nameless wood located right outside of Ponyville, leaving her precious cottage behind. Then she returned, only to find…
“Control.” She commanded her mind to speak to herself, as if to reaffirm who was the master of this blue unicorn’s body and mind. Trixie was a magician after all, and she would not allow herself to be covered in lies and tricks she produced and promulgated, nor would she let the despair and anger fall her into the realm of delusions and deliriums. Her pride, her title, her constant chanting ‘Great and Powerful Trixie’; all elements that made Trixie would steadfastly maintain her as she was right now: she was Trixie. Other ponies may be lost among the pathways that diverged to infinite possibilities, where one’s thought could take her anywhere, but not Trixie.
The mirror before Trixie looked back at her menacingly. She tried to reassure herself that what she was confronting was just an ordinary mirror. Her horns could not detect any magical energy emanating from the object. The surface just showed whatever was in front; just a nervous looking unicorn who gulped as she looked back at her with the identical expression.
Trixie checked her attire just in case-what she was attempting to do not only required her magical skills, but also her cognitive ability as well. The star-patterned pointed hat and the cape. The blue emerald brooch. A magician's clothing.
In the end, a magician always had to remind herself who she really was. She performs, she shows. She captivates the audience with her illusions and tricks. A magician, therefore, had to be familiar with not so honest methods. To deceive, to trick, to fool others-that was what Trixie wanted to do. Why? She thought. Maybe she found the process absolutely thrilling. Trying her best not to let her lies and deceit exposed, sometimes making another lies, or slightly bending truth to supply false information without lying at all; to Trixie it was a spectacular, fantastic work of art. She was the protagonist in her show.
“Mastery comes before manipulation.” Trixie muttered. To a magician, it was the sacred incantation. To put in otherwise, clarification came before the control. She tried to recall what her master used to say: a magician had to know the world around her. She dared not to blink, lest her concentration dissipates like an ice melting in a hot summer days. It was just a mirror, but if she could not be so sure of herself with so mundane object, she would have trouble later dealing with magical ones.
She looked into the mirror again. Flashbacks; control, control. Trixie whispered to herself. What was this? Dreams? Dreaming while she was in the dream? Maybe. The deeper part of her memory? Did this happened at all, or did it never exist at all? Which one: figment of imagination or her true piece of memory? If it indeed was Trixie’s genuine memory, when did it take place? She gazed at the single thread of thought which happened to surface from her thoughts, sending signals at every direction she could think of. She guessed the direction of the signal, and began to unravel the tale it hold: at the Magic Kindergarten, after she had eaten lunch…
The blue unicorn grunted as small magical energies seemed to gather around her tiny horn, before dispersing into millions of particles, quickly evaporating into nothingness. She looked quite distraught at the result, almost on the verge of tears, but surprisingly held back well, as if swallowing her bitterness altogether with one big gulp.
She cleared her throat and waved her right hoof, making a simple arcane sign, steadily rising above her horn, until the energy within the floating glyph exploded, surrounding her with shooting stars falling all over her. She grinned, pushing away the fact that one of her spells did not work. The grassy field around her was a mess, painted with shades of deep dark blues, but she had good reason to be proud of herself, and cleaning could wait as she savored the sweet taste of what her magic could do.
“All right class! Five more minutes, then we are going back to the classroom!” Trixie’s ear picked up the cheery tone of her teacher calling from inside the classroom. Most of her classmates were by now hopping off from the see-saws and swings.
Somewhere deep in Trixie’s heart, she felt others had to show what she had just done. She managed to pull the spell off without stupidly flailing around or her mane covered with patches of black and white stripes. Her classmates, even her teacher, had to witness what Trixie was capable of.
When she saw the wooden crates lying around at the side of the field she thought it was her chance. She climbed up, eagerly moving her hooves, making a big grin on her face. When she reached at the top, she cleared her throat, and stomped her hooves, making a large crack sound. Soon she felt all the attention of her classmates and teachers gathering towards her.
The audience was to have the honor to see what Trixie was capable of.
“Come on, come all, witness the magic show of Trixie!” She stood proudly on used wooden crates she proudly claimed as her stage, trying to make the most imposing pose she could think of. Below stood her ‘audiences’, her classmates, whose eyes Trixie caught sure sign of mild skepticism. Soon it will all change, Trixie said to herself. Soon they shall witness Trixie’s great show. After gathering enough magical energy focused at her hone Trixie unleashed the spell, summoning tiny patches of colorful fireworks, and then projecting miniature version of shooting stars above her stage. Other fillies watched in awe as she continued to perform. Trixie felt a surge of joy sweeping her; the audience loved her show. At least in this very moment, she was great and powerful.
She chose the right spot. The crate offered her a vintage viewpoint of her classmates. They all looked at her with great reverence, the very exact eyes that Trixie demanded the audience to show.
“Now, watch Trixie as she pulls off the greatest magic you will ever witness!” Trixie could not help raise her voice louder then she intended to. Her audience wanted her to go on. With their oohs and ahhs Trixie felt she had to show something worthy of their anticipation. If they wanted a show, then Trixie would gladly give it to them.
Crack. One firework blasted off right above her. Crack, crack. Followed by two more, each blastoff combined into a perfect triangular shape. The ponies below her were clopping, and she was just thrilled at the sight. Clopping for her-there could be never enough clopping. More. She needed more.
Crack, crack, crack, boom! Boom! Boom!
The blazing rays of afternoon sun were momentarily blocked out by splendid streams of the magical rainbow: the color of the blazing ruby, burning ember, glittering gold, lush emerald, bright ultramarine, and deep amethyst. The six streams perfectly harmonized into one single stream of rainbow, its lustrous glory surely inscribed into the eyes of Trixie and her audiences. After floating in the air for several seconds, it too exploded into massive streams of colors, engulfing the stage and Trixie altogether.
The ponies looked in silence as smoke continued to blot out the makeshift stage. When Trixie stood again, her body poised forward, her mane proudly swinging in the wind, the ponies below her trampled the ground with their hooves. The sound of clopping, the great music she never grew tired of hearing. They were clopping for her, for her only. Trixie wanted to hug herself right now. She wanted to squeeze herself till she could not breathe.
"Thank you, thank you, my enthusiastic admirers. Now if you will all excuse me-“
When she was about to delve deeper into her past, the scene abruptly changed, the particular thread of thoughts sinking back to the rapid currents of her thoughts. She bit her lips, frustration visible in her frowning face. Why did the memory simply go away during she was unraveling it? Maybe it was the mirror, she thought. Figuring out the inside and the outside was a tiresome work for her.
She looked around. It was her room. Simple, but plenty of objects she would have to bear in mind. To start, there was the mirror in front of her. Then the dresser at the left side, the mini wooden bookshelf at the right, the red carpet below her, and the small light bulb above her. It was a good thing that the room did not have much thing except basic furniture; otherwise it would have been hard for her to do the spell.
“Remember, Trixie. Mastery before manipulation, clarification before control. A magician controls her spells, not otherwise.” She bit her lips. That act was her switch. The skin slowly peeling it off, she felt her randomly running thoughts rapidly organized into a single workable group of threads. It was time to do the magic.
She glared at the mirror with all of confidence she could gather. A blue unicorn that was almost the same size as her, wearing oversized hat and a cape was looking back with a satisfied grin. Not only proud, but charming as well; Trixie worked hard to maintain her image, after all. A magician’s image had to be impressive, inspiring awe, the charisma working at the maximum level as possible. Hence she not merely laughed, but grinned in a way that delivered conviction. Her tone she sounded strong and powerful, loud and clear, grinding her speaking like a fine weapon that would enrapture the onlooker with great awe. Her magic was always followed by the characteristic hoof gesture she made: graceful, elegant, powerful, and assertive. All of these were part of her magic, her show.
When her horn glowed with a deep blue light intricate signs floated around her. She theatrically waved both of her hooves, and bright small sparks appeared, filling the room with prismatic rays. Her horn slowly gathered the magical flow that was building her body ready to be utilized at her will. She guided the focused energy towards the rope. In her head she tried to remember how snakes moved, and tried to recreate their movement through the animated rope. Mastery before manipulation, clarification before control. The rope immediately came to life, hissing like a snake, quickly attempting to coil around Trixie.
“Trixie is the master of her show.” Trixie moved her horn, and the rope became still, the magical energy drained in an instant. Returning to to its previous inanimate state, it dropped on the floor. “Let’s try again.” Once again she focused the flow of magic, and in the mirror Trixie could see the rope moving perfectly at her will.
Trixie thought it was enough for the night; now she would really savor the placid darkness that relieved her from the magician’s duty. For now, she would forget about what happened today, and what happened few days ago. The star-bear, Twilight Sparkle, the two asses Snips and Snails, the magical mirror and the mock-world, it could wait.
Rest now, Trixie, she whispered to herself. You are Great and Powerful, and you deserve a good night’s sleep. She let her mind wander away, sinking in her everlasting flow of her memories and thoughts.
Author's Note: Okay..so decided that I should go Trixie as a 'magician'. I mean she was one in the show, so why not expand upon it? It is her job to trick and fool others, and to be the master of illusion she must know who she really is, what actually constitutes her reality (hence also making her quite 'immune' from mind control spells, because such spell would lie within her area of magic she employs).