Poor Reception and a New Companion
The ponies of Trottingham watched curiously as a small, brand-new wagon bathed in a silver-blue aura rolled into the town square. It came to a sudden stop alongside the town fountain. From inside the wagon, the sounds of several heavy items hitting the floor was accompanied by a yelp of pain.
A crowd began forming as the townsponies tried to get a closer look at the wagon. It had been built to be a miniature, mobile house. The sides were brown, the roof was painted red, and the wheels were coloured similarly to the roof. Hanging over the door was a sign embellished with the symbol of a wand over a crescent moon.
The front unfolded with a crash to reveal an empty stage, causing the ponies to scramble back in fright. A red curtain was drawn across the very back of the stage, a motionless mare’s silhouette visible on its surface. She suddenly tossed back her head, and the audience could see the shadow of a wide-brimmed, pointed hat levitating onto her head.
They crowded around the stage, curious to see who or what was behind the curtain. They collectively jumped, startled as a puff of smoke appeared in the middle of the stage, followed by a sharp crack.
“Welcome to the greatest magic show in all of Equestria! Watch and be astounded as The Great and Powerful Trixie performs feats of magic more amazing than any of you have ever seen!” As the smoke cleared, Trixie reared up, grinning with the confidence of one who could astound anypony, and launched a volley of fireworks into the air.
The fireworks exploded into a thousand multicoloured sparks. Trixie gathered the smoke as it drifted in the wind, magically expanding it to shroud the town square from the bright afternoon sun.
With a sharp crack, two pure, soft-blue circles appeared on either side of the stage. She first put a hoof through one and the audience gasped as it appeared in the other. Then, she strutted through, appearing at the edge of the stage. WIth a snap, the portals closed. Leaning in close to the crowd, she grinned wickedly.
“That is only a taste of Trixie’s vast power. Perhaps you’d like to see more?” Trixie slowly backed up and laughed. “But no, Trixie cannot just show you her magic. Trixie is no common street performer. Trixie...” She paused and with a flourish of her horn, summoned images of famous scenes from various stories swirled around her.
One image was that of Celestia battling another alicorn, black as night. Another scene showed an ancient unicorn, a long beard almost down to his forehooves, reading a large tome. The third and final scene showed six mares freeing Luna from the grasp of Nightmare Moon.
“Trixie is a master storyteller,” Trixie continued as the images slowly faded into nothing. Her eyes roved from one end of the town square to the other. “So, which of Trixie’s amazing stories do you wish to hear?”
“The Mysterious Stallion of Trottingham!” The ponies glanced at each other and stomped their hooves, chanting the name.
Trixie’s eyes drifted to the statue that stood in the middle of the fountain. A smile spread across her face and her eyes lit up in anticipation. The ponies had picked one of the more interesting tales.“Robin Hoof? An intriguing tale indeed. He was more than just a bandit. There is more to the story than meets the eye, and Trixie knows it all.”
She made the likeness of a brown pegasus prance across the stage. Robin Hoof stopped in front of Trixie, swept his trademark green cap off and bowed to her. He then jumped into the air, and unslung his legendary bow. He nocked three arrows and skillfully pierced three apples that had appeared on the edge of the stage.
The townsponies began to whisper excitedly. The story had always been that he was The Mysterious Stallion of Trottingham, earth pony and dashing bandit, not some pegasus named Robin Hoof.
Trails of magic swirled around the stage, casting an eerie glow around the darkened stage as she began the tale. “The tale does not begin as the common folk believe. He did not just appear one day. He was not a mysterious pony from the west. In fact, he came from right here in Trottingham.”
An small image of Trottingham Castle appeared on stage. “He was a noblepony—”
Suddenly, a tomato flew from the center of the crowd and hit her hard in the chest. “Tell the story right!”
The ponies turned around and hushed the perpetrator, but did not disagree with him. They were curious to see what this mare had in store for them.
Wiping the splattered tomato off herself with her magic, Trixie merely raised an eyebrow and frowned. “Do you presume to know more than a seasoned storyteller?” When nopony answered her, she continued, “Good. Trixie has heard his tale told many ways, but by extensive research, the Great and Powerful Trixie has discovered the true one.”
The image of Trottingham Castle, which had faded, reappeared in just as fine detail as the real one. “As Trixie was saying, before she was rudely interrupted, Robin Hoof was not the mysterious pony from the west. He was a noblepony right here in Trottingham.” An image of Robin Hoof appeared in one of the upper windows of the castle. Except this pony was garbed in fine clothing.
“However, he did not live in a peaceful time. There was treachery in the air. And the pony who was most treacherous was simply called the Sheriff.” A dark black unicorn pony with red eyes slowly formed from tendrils of magic. He scowled at the audience as the last of the magic swirled around his head, forming a cropped mane.
The castle faded, to be replaced by a bedchamber that took up the entire right half of the stage. Trixie walked alongside the sheriff as he entered the room. “He was so treacherous that in order to gain power, he gathered up a group of loyal followers and tried to assassinate Robin Hoof. However, Robin Hoof was wise and listened to his counselor, who foresaw the attack.”
At this point, the image of the sheriff stopped at the edge of the grand bed. From a sheath around his hoof, he levitated out a wicked, serrated blade. With one swift motion, it rose into the air, and a moment later, embedded itself into a lump on the mattress.
A second later, he howled in fury. There was nopony in the bed, or in the room, besides the sheriff. He hacked at the mattress and feathers flew into the air, obscuring the crowd’s view of the scene. As the feathers hit the ground, they dissolved into small showers of magic sparks.
The display continued for nearly a minute. Finally, as the last of the feathers burst into a shower of sparks, Trixie continued with the story. “You see, Robin Hoof had fled that very night. He made his escape into the Marewood Forest without a single pony knowing. In a fit of rage, the sheriff killed everypony in the castle that was loyal to the Earl-turned-bandit.”
Trixie bounded across the stage, the sheriff following her. The scene rapidly changed as the two ponies went from room to room. In each one, ponies burst into multicoloured sparks as they fell to Trixie’s horn or the sheriff’s knife. A moment later, the scene changed once more to an outside view of the castle. However, this time, flames could be seen in the windows, a dense black smoke curling from the roof.
The crowd, who had been silent up to this point, started to talk amongst themselves in a hushed tone. This rendition of the tale was not the story they knew. It was very much different and they all agreed that Trixie’s tale could not be the true one. However, her voice silenced them.
Gesturing as if bored, Trixie conjured up images’ of Robin Hoof fighting the sheriff. “Over the years, Robin Hoof attempted to gain back his seat of power from the unjust ruler. He stole the tax money the Sheriff collected and returned it to the common folk. He killed the sheriff’s men and did everything he could to disrupt the plans of the sheriff. “
Trixie paused for a moment to draw another image in the air. However, before she could finish, a rotten apple sailed through the air and hit her squarely on the horn, causing her to grimace in pain.
The audience had had enough.
“Trottingham has never had an unjust ruler. Our leaders certainly wouldn’t resort to murder to gain a seat of power. Nor would one flee in the face of danger.” The townsponies’ sense of stubborn pride swelled. They felt that their story was the true story and they would listen to no more of this slander of their glorious earl.
More fruit followed the rotten apple, and not all of it was the mushy goo that it should have been. Trixie protected herself as best she could, but to no avail. The fruit splattered onto the stage, staining it. Other pieces hit her directly, leaving bruises almost immediately.
Never had she received such a poor response to a show. Tears welled up in her eyes as she backed away from the crowd-turned-mob. As she began to cry, she gulped down the lump that rose up in her throat. “Very well. If you do not want to see what Trixie has to offer, then she shall take her leave. She doesn’t need you either.”
Seemingly out of nowhere, a dark blue unicorn stallion trotted up to Trixie and stood in front of her. In one fluid motion, the axe that was sheathed on his back levitated out and slammed handle first into the stage.
“Enough!”
The fruit immediately stopped flying from the mob. The audience’s cries of protest turned into a few shouts, then a lone voice, and finally, silence. It was only broken by the stallion’s voice, which echoed around the town square. “This mare took the time to research your history; she took the time to put together a show for you, a well-done show at that, and this is how you treat her?” Looking around at the crowd, he scowled. “I have never been more disgusted to be in such an ignorant audience.”
The stallion slowly backed up, ushering Trixie back behind the curtain. “When I come back out, you had all better be gone,” he said as he disappeared into the back of the wagon with Trixie.
The stallion shook his head and sighed as he strapped his double-bladed axe. “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what got into those ponies.”
Trixie merely sniffled and nodded.
They stood there for a few awkward seconds before Trixie finally spoke.
“Thank you—”
“Iron Edge.”
Trixie raised an eyebrow and stared quizzically at Iron Edge. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks were streaked with tears. “Trixie does not intend to be rude, but what is your special talent, exactly?”
Rubbing his crew-cut blond mane, Iron Edge laughed. “I get that a lot. Ponies seem fond of asking what my special talent is after they hear my name. Before you ask, I’m a bodyguard.” He turned to show Trixie his cutie mark: a worn axe. “It’s good pay if you know where to look.
Nodding, Trixie set about packing her belongings. “That’s very... interesting, Iron Edge. But Trixie’d best leave now. She knows when she’s no longer welcome.”
Nor does she want to be around one of those ponies. She wants nothing more to do with Trottingham.
Iron Edge shuffled his hooves on the wood floor. “Please, just call me Iron. Everypony does.” As he backed out of the wagon, he suddenly stopped. His ear twitched and his eyes narrowed. Without blinking, he deftly caught a rotten apple with his telekinesis, turned, and whipped it back from where it came. As soon as he let go of the fruit, he swiftly walked behind the curtain.
A voice from outside shouted, “Oh, I bet you think you’re so smart catching fruit like that. Well you too are no longer welcome here. Get out or we’ll destroy the wagon!” The words faded as the perpetrator galloped away.
Iron shrugged. “I guess I’m not going anywhere unless I can sneak out the back. But I don’t think that’s going to happen. I’ve never been good at sneaking.”
Trixie looked up briefly before returning to her task. “This is the first time Trixie has been poorly received. Trixie will just finish packing up the wagon and move on to one of the cities where the Great and Powerful Trixie is more appreciated, as she should be.”
Shaking his head, Iron frowned. “No, it’s not your first time being run out of town.”
Trixie shot a glare in his direction. Nopony should know about Trixie’s embarrassment. Who does this unicorn think he—
“I mean, I kinda wander from town to town, too, and I’ve seen several of your other performances.” Iron smiled lightly at her and went to pat her on the back, but stopped when Trixie turned away, a tear sliding down her cheek. He quickly continued, “I mean, I personally loved all your shows.
“Eventually, my job took me round to Canterlot, where I saw you doing another show. This time, you were taking requests from the audience on what to do with the light. You didn’t fail at anything they asked you to do. And some of it was pretty far-fetched.
“Then you arrived at Ponyville. It was my last stop in the job I was doing at the time and I decided to stay for your performance before heading out. Your magic was amazing as usual, but something had changed. And there was the whole Ursa incident where you ended up being chased out of town.
“I kinda guessed where you were going and decided to follow to make sure you made it to New Yoke okay. I got there and found that word of your disaster in Ponyville had somehow sped ahead of me already and since then, you’ve not been able to keep an audience. Nor have you been well received, even though your magic really is good.
I guess I’ve been following you partially to see your amazing shows and partially to make sure you didn’t run afoul of mobs like the one outside.” He hung his head in shame. “And I failed, I guess.”
A second later, he looked up at Trixie, a new glow in his eye. “Say, since I’ve already explained things, perhaps I could join you on your show circuit? Kinda like being hired as a bodyguard since I’m already practically doing it already. I’m sure it’d make both our lives easier.”
“No. Trixie does not need protection. She can handle things herself.”
But that extra time to practice before the next show, Trixie could use that... A corner of her mind argued against her initial response.
Iron looked at her skeptically. “Yeah, sure you can. Just like you handled that audience out there.” Realizing a moment too late what he had said, he tried to repair the damage as Trixie scowled at him and resumed packing her belongings. “I mean... err... augh!” He stomped his hoof in frustration. “That came out wrong. What I meant is: we can all occasionally use the help.” When Trixie didn’t respond, he tried again. “How about this: in addition to being a bodyguard, I’ll pull your wagon for you.”
“Trixie has a spell for that.” In her mind, she sighed. And it looks like this “Iron” is just another one of “those” ponies.
Again, part of her mind argued with her. But he is offering to do some of Trixie’s work for her, leaving her to do as she pleases. She mentally rolled her eyes and made a decision.
“I noticed, but surely you can’t keep it up all the time. Wouldn’t it be better for somepony to pull the wagon?” Iron pointed out.
Trixie picked up some pans off the floor as she pondered the question. “Well, Trixie could use an assistant. Someone to do the grunt work while Trixie practices her show.” Her eyes lit up and she spun around, extending her hoof to Iron. “Fine, do the heavy labour and you can accompany Trixie.”
Iron moved to take the hoof, but stopped inches from it. “Before we shake, I have one term. You follow my orders should a dangerous situation come up. Now, all we have to do is pack your wagon and we can leave this town. Do we still have a deal?”
When Trixie nodded, he took the proffered hoof and shook it. “Then consider it done.” He immediately began planning as he started folding up the stage with his magic.
“We’ll be making our way to Manehattan. I have a friend there that may be able to help us. We’ll then go to wherever he sends us and perform. From there, we’ll take a few more days to plan again.”
Trixie had had no plan, and his sounded as good as any. She nodded in agreement, but looked curiously at him. “What about your belongings?”
Iron chuckled and turned to show her a saddlebag she had not noticed before. “I’ve been traveling lightly as of late. Living off the land and whatnot. I keep what I need in here. Just a whet stone and maybe a little bit of food.”
Trixie shook her head and smiled, bemused as Iron opened up his pack and showed her the inside. A single quill and a loaf of bread lay at the bottom, along with an oddly-shaped statuette. However, before she could ask about it, he shut the bag and looked around for something to do.
“Trixie has paper. No need to go back into town.” The last of her possessions floated into a chest and it shut itself, locking in the process. “And that’s that. We can leave now.”
Nodding, Iron made his way out the side door and around to the other side where the harness was. He slipped it on and began pulling.
She glanced out the window and sighed. She could still see ponies from the crowd lurking behind some houses in the distance. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all, and Trixie can always ditch him if need be.