Death of a Flower
Trixie paced nervously behind the closed curtains of the theater. Tonight was her big night, the first performance she had taken in months. After her confrontation with Spark- no, Twilight, she hadn't been able to get work easily with the many ponies who knew about her magic duel with the pupil knew of her deeds. It didn't matter now, she was different.
Looking out from behind the slightly musty curtains, she found many of them looking at the pamphlets handed out to say who was preforming. Very few of them made any worthwhile reaction, but she found one or two making a very noticeable scowl and feverishly talking to ponies next to them. Great, some knew of her, and didn't hold the best opinion. She didn't have time to dwell on it much longer as the curtains began to rise. She put on her usual bravado when addressing an audience.
"Good evening fillies and gentlecolts! Prepare for the show of your life as it is I, the Great and Powerful Trixie!" she announced while throwing down a smoke bomb. She didn't notice as some of the few who were scowling at her name began to move towards the stage.
"Prepare to be absolutely dazzled by my tales of heroism and triumph!" she gave a slight pause as murmuring began. Looking directly below the stage she saw three stallions and a mare begin climbing on the stage. She gulped, the show was truly about to begin...
The still wagonless Trixie slowly made her way down the long road, limping from the injuries now covering her laughably small frame. After her multiple run-ins with jeering, angry, and all around nasty "hecklers" she had to leave the local theater as soon as possible. Another failed show, another potential salary lost, another knock to her already almost non-existent pride. As the path stretched on, and she found herself alone with her thoughts once more, feeling her anger welling before Trixie reminded herself it was her own fault she got into these situations. Any pain inflicted on her was deserved, welcomed even.
“Face it Sparkle! Your magic is nothing compared to mine” Trixie declared boastfully.
Her past words coming up like a slap to the face, though Trixie only winced slightly before continuing on her path. She silently passed any on goers, not even feeling the motivation to return some of the nods or respond to any concerned looks she got from the few who didn’t hate her. Besides, if they didn’t hate her now it meant they hadn’t heard what she had done.
“Trixie stop, it isn’t worth it!” a familiar voice said in her head, one she was trying to forget. She needed something to take her mind off things. Anything, really, just to get these feelings of guilt off her chest. She veered off the road and found a tree with a decent amount of shade to be comfortable in, not that she deserved it anyway. Sitting under the tree, taking solace in the relief it gave her tired, slightly sore hooves.
“Whatever I get, I deserve” she reassured herself once again, hiding a grimace as she eased from her sitting position to a more comfortable stance lying on her stomach. Ignoring the wetness she felt on her flank she tenderly grabbed some dirt on her hoof and rubbed it slightly on any cuts she could reach before settling down once again. Clay dirt helped with bacteria in the cuts, and helped prevent infections. One of the many things she learned with life on the road, especially in recent days.
Pausing in her first-aid briefly, she spotted a wilted flower on the opposite side on the tree, slightly out of place due to its position away from the large tree and hazardous appearance. It looked to be in poor health, but it still held a certain charm to it. Enough charm to where she felt herself subconsciously edging closer to the poor looking thing. Softly holding it up in her hoof, Trixie took a closer look, white pedals and a yellow center. A type of daisy most likely, she didn’t hold a lot of information on flowers but they were pretty.
Looking around, she found many other of the supposed daisies flourishing better, not surprising as it was Spring, though it had been raining a bit more lately. Today even with the Sun shining brightly still had dark clouds over the horizon.
“This one is probably over watered” Trixie determined also noticing the brown edges to the pedals.
“Why would you be this damaged if everyone else around you is growing beautifully?” Trixie asked herself, for some reason getting angry. How odd.
“You’re just like everyone else, why do they get everything handed to them, food, water, a beacon of protection to prevent them from drowning. While you’re sitting here drowning in the nosebleeds?” her temper was rising for whatever reason and her horn started glowing.
This flower needed protection from the harsh weather just like all the others, yet the tree was being selfish and only protecting a chosen few. Her horn glowed brighter, as perspiration formed on her head, performing magic in her current state was foolish, but this flower needed her. She’d protect this flower, yes she’d protect it as it deserves to be protected.
Grunting in concentration, her now fluorescent blue horn released the spell to get the flower back to it’s beautiful state. Yes, it would be perfect. She’d return the flower to its natural beauty then take care of it forever. No, longer than that. The spell was cast. A light enveloped the area.
As the blue light died down, and Trixie gasped for breath on the ground from exertion before taking a look at the spot the flower previously inhabited. There was nothing there except a black patch of land and a single pedal. She felt a tear going down her face.
“I really liked that flower” Trixie murmured as the strain of the magic and her wounds finally caught up to her, making her lose consciousness. As her eyes closed, she didn’t notice a figure galloping towards her from the road she had left before. Nor did she notice the single pedal from the previously burnt flower sink into the ground.