April 20th, 1005 ME
08:15:02:33
Over a week later...
In the rolling valleys of Equestria's heartland...
A fuzzy blue unicorn in a starry cape and hat drew her wagon over the crest of a hill...
...and there it was. Within plain sight. A patch of gold within the emerald navel of the land.
Ponyville.
Its thatched roofs shimmered in the rising dawnlight. A windmill turned lazily to the north, casting idle shadows over the bustling marketplace. The clock tower on the southwest edge of town glistened under a sheen of morning dew. A school bell could be heard ringing in the distance, and pegasus bodies flew between buildings, delivering wagonloads of freshly-baked goods from one establishment to the other. The air smelled of bread, flowers, and cheer. As the sun rose further in the sky—the upper spires of Princess Twilight's Castle glittered like frozen fireworks. Not too far away—framed by cascading waterfalls along the edge of a mountain's slope—the School of Friendship loomed, along with its blossoming gardens and verdant green hedges.
A calm smile drew across Trixie's face. She lingered briefly on the crown of that hill, overlooking the closest thing she had to a “home”—that didn't have wheels.
“Mmmmmmm... peanut butter and piano solos,” she randomly sputtered. Then—pushing against the dirt path beneath her like it was a cliff-face—she coasted effortlessly down the south face of the hill, allowing gravity and joy to carry her to her destination.
Within minutes, she was breaching the city limits of Ponyville, and nearly arriving at the leg of her lengthy, lengthy journey. She paused at intersections, allowing farm ponies to draw their wares across town without interference. She threaded her way between alleyways, glancing up at absent-minded ponies opening second-story windows to water their balcony plants and air out their laundry. One by one, store fronts were unlocking their doors and flipping their signs from “Closed” to “Open.” Elderly morning joggers congregated at street corners to gossip and laugh over old stories.
Trixie passed by the market district. She saw Big Macintosh opening up the Apple Family stall. Roseluck, Daisy, and Lily were gathering flowers to make valuable bouquets. Lyra Heartstrings and Bon Bon squatted outside in front of a restaurant, trading tales with love in their eyes before going about their respective day shifts. From a block away, Trixie could make out the sight of Mayor Mare strolling along the circumference of City Hall, most likely discussing structural maintenance of the town's key buildings.
TH-THUDDD! Trixie sensed a massive vibration to a dormant street lamp just above her. With practiced grace, she stopped herself and her wagons. Within half-a-second, a gray body fell down directly in front of her, dizzy and confuzzled from having slammed straight into the lamp. Rubbing her scalp, Derpy Hooves smiled awkwardly to either side of Trixie. Then—after a momentary adjustment of her mailbag—the mare flapped her wings and took to the skies once again, following through with her zig-zagging route.
Trixie sighed through a calm smile. She made for the tallest structure in Ponyville—lingering north above the rest of the rustic neighborhood. The closer she came to Twilight's home—and more specifically the adjacent School—the more diverse the locals became. Griffons and young dragons flew in the direction of the School. A pair of seaponies leapt out of a river stream, morphed into Hippogriffs, and galloped briskly towards the front entrance. Delegates from all trots of the land followed closely behind an earth pony representative as she gave them a tour of the nearby grounds. Even Zecora made a brief appearance, trotting towards Everfree Forest with a wagon full of freshly-bought provisions.
Everypony and everycreature were too busy doing a multitude of various thing to bother talking with Trixie. But that was fine. Trixie had endured a long trip, and she had somewhere to be. Somewhere calm. Somewhere wholesome. Somewhere... joyful.
She was nearly bustling with anticipation by the time she made it to the southwest edge of the Castle of Friendship. There—nestled between the magical building's crystalline foundation and a thicket of trees—was a rectangular patch of worn grass, flanked by a stack of storage crates, a brick outdoor fireplace, and a few other things that had more or less become Trixie's on-loan possessions. She backed up the wagon; it fit perfectly in the rectangular patch of grass. Then, after much fuss, she undid the reins and riggings of the cart and trotted freely for the first time in hours.
Holding her breath, Trixie Lulamoon galloped giddily towards the front entrance to the Castle, straightened her cap and robe, cleared her throat, and veritably kicked the doors wide open.
THUD!!!
“Behold!!!” Trixie's voice echoed into the dimly-lit front atrium of the Castle. “The Grrreat and Powerrrful Trrrixie rrreturrrns!”
She spread her forelimbs out in a waiting embrace.
She smiled with her eyes shut.
One second of silence.
Five seconds of silence.
Ten...
She squinted one eye open. Then the other. A deadpan blink.
The interior of the Castle was empty. Utterly bereft of movement, motion, life. The glossy walls of the place still shook from the reverberation of Trixie's dramatic entrance.
A beat.
“Mrrrrmfff...” The showmare rolled her eyes. Re-adjusting her cape and hat, she plodded forward on heavy hooves, marching her way towards the Castle Throne room, and once there—
THUD!!!
“Behold!!!” Trixie struck the same pose with the same smile and the same outstretched forelimbs. “The Grrreat and Powerrrful Trrrixie rrreturrrns!”
All that responded was an echo.
The round table was barren. The map dormant, the chairs empty.
The preserved roots of the Golden Oaks Library wobbled slightly from the invasive sound. Crystals dangled on strings then were dead still once again.
Trixie stood above the shadow of herself—the only acquaintance to greet her.
She slumped forward on all fours, tonguing the inside of her muzzle under a perpetual frown. Harsh eyes desperately searched every square inch of the castle interior with surmounting frustration.
She marched on ahead.
THUD!!!
“Behold! The Great and Powerful Trixie returns!”
The library was utterly barren.
THUD!!!
”Behold! The Great and Powerful Trixie returns!”
So was the main hallway.
THUD!!!
“Behold—!”
The banquet hall was full of tables covered in white sheets.
Thap!!!
“Behold...?”
A flock of songbirds scattered, flying away from an empty crystalline balcony.
Creaaaaak.
Trixie leaned her head through a doorway, peering lethargically.
“... … ...the great and Powerful Trixie returns...”
Dusty dawnlight shone into the kitchen.
Illuminating nopony.
Trixie's blue muzzle scrunched. She cast a bored gaze aside. Pink teacups hung on tiny metal hooks. Half-heartedly, she tapped one with the tip of her hoof, watched as it rocked silently... then came to a stop.
A sigh.
Trixie slunk back into the hallway, letting the kitchen door close on its own.
The mare trotted on dull hooves down a long, long corridor of crystal.
She passed by a doorway...
...paused...
...then backtrotted until she was within reach of the handle. She opened it and peered inside a pitch-black closet. A lone broom teetered to greet her—but Trixie slammed the door shut before it could fall out.
“Phweeeeeee...” Her ears drooped on either side of her blue scalp as she made her way back towards the entrance. “...of course a castle named after 'friendship' would be empty.” She frowned. “If you ask Trixie, it could use more stupid lasers.”
“I know, right?” A violet shape waddled through two doorways behind her. Shrugging. “But Twilight's all 'nooooo, Spike. That's as dumb as the 'fog machine' idea!”
Trixie gasped. “Spike!” She spun around with eyes wide and smile beaming. “Spike the Dragon!”
The whelp in question stopped in mid-step. Carrying a bundle of scrolls, he pivoted to face the showmare. A scaley eyecrest raised curiously.
Trixie blinked. “What's the matter?”
“Oh. Nothing, Trixie.” His short leathery wings flexed. “I just forgot you actually knew my full name, is all.”
“Bah!” Trixie slid towards him and rested a forelimb around his purple shoulder. “Who could possibly forget Princess Twilight Sparkle's most trusted and valuable assistant?!?”
“Okaaaaay...” Spike squinted at her. “What kind of a favor do you need?”
“Trixie doesn't need a favor!” she hissed, frowning. “Can't Trixie have a normal conversation with the Princess' royal advisor?”
“I don't know.” Spike fidgeted. “Can we?”
Trixie leaned back, folding both forelimbs with a frown. “Hmmmf!”
“Anyways, nice seeing you... and stuff...” Spike readjusted his grip of the scrolls and resumed his march towards the royal offices. “I'm guessing you're back from your tour of sawing ponies in half and vanishing playing cards.”
“Only some of those things...” Trixie trotted after him. “Just—what are you up to?”
“It's Monday morning,” the whelp said in a sing-songy voice. “The weekend's over!” He flapped his wings, hovered up to a desk, and dropped the pile of scrolls across the countertop. “Which means it's back to work for this dragon boy-o.” He started sorting through the scrolls and depositing them into different containers marked: “Twilight,” “Cadance,” “Celestia,” and “Luna.” His green eyeslits focused on his work as he spoke. “I swear—sometimes I think I'm the one thing gluing this whole maretriarchy together. Which—if you think about it—sorta makes it a draconianship. Heheheh...” A wink. “That's a joke I've been working on for about two weeks now. What do you think?”
Trixie ignored that last question. “Okay, let Trixie rephrase herself.” She tilted her nose up. “What is Sparkle up to?”
“Hmmm? Oh! Twilight spent the weekend away at the Zebraharan capital, playing Friendship Ambassador. I would have gone with her, but you know how I feel about sand.”
“I do?”
“She said she'd be coming back around this time.” Spike paused to scratch his chin in thought. “Not sure what's keeping her. But... it is the Zebrahara.” A shrug. “No doubt she discovered an age-old zebra library and decided to spend an extra day or two there. Wouldn't be the first time books dragged her down. Who'd a thunk it—that manuscripts would be the bane of future Equestrian bureaucracy?”
“I see...” Trixie toed the floor of the office.
“Thankfully, Twilight gave me permission to come back to Ponyville to do my work. Lemme tell ya. Canterlot Castle is great and all, but you simply cannot concentrate on anything with all of those guards in heavy armor trotting around and rattling up a storm.” Spike fought a yawn. “Plus, all my comic books are here in the castle...” A sly smirk as he continued working. “Sooooooo....”
“Yeah yeah. Whatever.” Trixie cleared her throat. “So, Trixie is guessing that Twilight took the entire Council of Friendship with her to Zebraland...?”
“What—you mean the girls?” Spike wave a claw. “Nahhhh...”
Trixie looked up, eyes brightening. “She didn't?”
“When it comes to this ambassadorial stuff, Twilight usually goes it alone. The rest of the gals can't really stand her stiff, diplomatic lectures. Celestia knows I can't.”
“Oh, well then...” Trixie smiled, trotting towards the door. “I suspect it's only a matter of time before they show up here to—”
“Come to think of it...” Spike resumed collating the scrolls. “...Twilight was going to invite some of them, but they all turned out to be super busy at the last second.”
Trixie scuffled to a stop on blue hooves. She turned to blink back at Spike. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Applejack had to make a delivery of seedlings to Appleloosa. Rarity needed to check up on Sassy Saddles in Canterlot Boutique. Rainbow Dash had a bunch of cadets to train at the Wonderbolts Academy. Fluttershy and Tree Hugger were attending some sort of... chipmunk convention in Fillydelphia.” He stifled another yawn and continued: “And Pinkie Pie... what did she need to do... oh yeah. Baking a fruitcake. You know how dedicated she gets.”
“No. Trixie doesn't.”
“That's a shame. It's like a living art form. Imagine a Stirrup Kubrick film—only acted out in real time. With fruit.”
“Isn't it a little strange...?” Trixie asked. “I mean... for all of Sparkle's companions to be off doing random things in different places?
“Not... really...?” Spike glanced at her from across the sea of rearranged scrolls. “It's not like Equestria's gonna stop functioning the moment the gals split apart. Not anymore—at least. Things have been pretty dang breezy since the defeat of Tirek, Chrysalis, and whatshername. Y'know... the curly-haired psychopath.”
Trixie's muzzle scrunched. “Covid Glow?”
“Yeah. I think that was it. Anyways...” Spike smiled as he immersed himself in his work. “...the only reason the girls ever get together these days is for getting together's sake. Which is the way it always should have been since day one, if you ask me.”
“Since day one...” Trixie murmured.
“I always think about Twilight's first day in Ponyville.” Spike hummed to himself. “She was sooooo obsessed with the prophecies concerning Nightmare Moon. But me? I kept having to remind her about Celestia's advice that she make friends.” A sly whistle. “Guess who was on the winning side of historyyyyyy...?”
“So, in short...” Trixie cut to the chase. “Sparkle and the rest won't be around for a while?” She rubbed one forelimb against the other, gazing off with a melancholic expression.
“I guess? Maybe? Maybe not?” Spike shrugged. “I may still be a clerk and an advisor, but Twilight has royal servants to make schedules for her now. Which is a relief. Gives me more time for eating gems and reading comics. Lemme tell ya, royalty is a lot more rewarding than I imagined...”
“Trixie sees...”
He noticed her disappointed reaction. “Why? Were you wanting to hang out with Twilight and her friends?”
“Hmmmm?” She jerked a look at him, her pupils shrinking. “Hah! Ha hah!!” A sweaty smile, haughty to a fault. “As if the Great and Powerful Trixie would ever be that desperate!”
Spike blinked. “Nothing 'desperate' about it, Trixie. You've been on tour for a while now, right? Like a few weeks? Probably figures that you'd wanna catch up with ponies.”
“Trixie doesn't need to catch up with anyone or anything. And—more than anything—she enjoys being on tour! In fact, being back here is... is s-something of a downgrade, considering the Great and Powerful Trixie's unshakably fulfilling career!”
“Hey. You do you.” Spike shrugged. “Sorry for insinuating.”
“'Sorry' is a good color on you.”
“Story of my life.”
Silence.
“Totally and completely unrelated, butttttt...” Trixie chewed on her lip, eyeing the dragon as he continued immersing himself in his work. “...diddddd you perhaps wish to talk about... erm... royal dragon advisory things?” She gulped. “Perhaps over breakfast? Since it is morning and Trixie hasn't eaten and you probably haven't eaten and it's perfectly natural to ramble about inane things while in the same room as one another... having breakfast... … …and oxygen.”
“Sorry, can't.” Spike shook his head. “I'm gonna be spending the next hour belching these scrolls to random destinations across Equestria.” He beat his chest with a claw for emphasis. “It takes a lot outta the pipes, if you get my drift.”
“No. Trixie doesn't.”
“I make lousy company when I can't afford to speak with my usual handsome dulcet tones. Not that it matters.” He smirked slightly without looking at her. “I know you hate hearing me ramble about half as much as you hate hearing Twilight Sparkle give lectures.”
“Yes...” Trixie leaned back with a pensively raised forelimb. “...Trixie supposes you have a point.”
Spike finished collating the scrolls into their separate piles. He grabbed the first one from Luna's collection and took a deep, draconian breath. His eyes rolled back as he jerked forward and—PHWOOOOOMB!—vomited green flame over the scrolls. It teleported away in a dazzling emerald glow.
“Phew...!” He slapped the back of his neck and coughed up cinders and ash. “...the former Princess of the Night must be farrrrrrrrrr away! I felt that letter zooming clear across the continent!” He smirked as he reached for the next scroll. “No doubt she's windsurfing on her grand Retirement Tour of Mareami Beach.”
“Mmmm...” Trixie trotted off. “...lucky her.”
“Nice seeing you around, though, Trixie!” Spike waved before teleporting another letter. PHWOOOMB!!! “Urp... don't be a stranger!”
Her muzzle contorted into a frown. “A little late for that...”
She trotted a lone path down a central corridor of the Castle of Friendship.
“...who needs to hang out with Sparkle and the rest of her gaggle anyways? Besides, all they ever talk about is probably rainbows and cupcakes.” A blink. “And the lasers in between.”
She slowed to a crawl until she was standing—slumped—in the great vacant heart of everything.
“It must be very fun...” Trixie's head bowed with a sigh. “...talking about rainbows and cupcakes and lasers...”
Silence.
The mare gnashed her teeth, then stood tall and proud. “Anyways, Trixie doesn't need to hang out with them! She never did!” In an energetic trot, she moved briskly forward, eyes firm and determined above a devilish smirk. “There's still a great and powerful friend whom Trixie can always count on in her time of need!”
“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat???” Trixie fell back on her fuzzy blue rump, staring forward with wide eyes and a slacked jaw.
On the door to Starlight Glimmer's bedroom...
...there was a note. A note addressed to Trixie.
Clenching her teeth, Trixie yanked the taped yellow paper off the foundation and levitated it closer to her face so she could read the damnable hoofwriting once again.
Hello Trixie.
Welcome back from your tour in Las Pegasus! I'm so sorry I couldn't be around to greet you. I've been deeply immersed in my science experiments lately. You know how it is. Things have been a bit quiet in Ponyville as of late, so—by the Princess' grace—I've been given more time and resources to advance my studies. Which is great, because I've made a breakthrough as of late, and it's required my full attention.
I know it may not seem important to you, and I swear I want to catch up on things. There's just some super important stuff I need to get finished, and then you and I can hang out again. I promise. Until then, I will be away at my remote laboratory. Please—I know it's asking a lot—but don't disturb me until I am done with these experiments. That way I'll get them done faster and we'll see each other again sooner. I promise.
Thinking of you, forever and always. Sincerely, your great and powerful bestie,
~Starlight Glimmer.
Trixie blanched. At first, her face turned red in frustration—starting with her fuzzy eartips. But the anger didn't last long, giving way to a foalish spirit of sad defeat.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...” She groaned, slumping even further into the center of the hallway.
A beat.
She pouted.
She looked at the door to Starlight Glimmer's bedroom.
Then she looked again at the letter in her telekinetic grasp.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...”
Trixie slumped even further.
A heavy sigh. Then another.
“... … ...'important stuff?' What could be more important than having tea and talk with Trixie?”
A flicker of the anger returned, but only to make a brief glint in her clenched teeth.
“She'd better be conjuring up a potion to cure the pony pox because this whole day is getting stuck in Trixie's craw!” Her nostrils flared. “And that is the greatest and most powerful craw there is!”
Silence—save for her persistent fuming.
She took one last look at the letter. Her ears folded and her eyes glossed over. The next whimper from her throat was a soft one.
“Mmmmmmm... Trixie can't stay mad at you.” She nuzzled the flimsy parchment to her cheek as if it was her best friend's skin and exhaled warmly. “... … ...it's nopony's fault that Trixie feels the way she feels.” Her gaze went cold as she looked down the empty, crystalline hallway. “Well... maybe one pony's.”
Silence.
“Grfffff...” Trixie pinned the note back onto the door, ignored that it was upside down, and turned briskly about. “Moping in the dust is beneath Trixie.” One hoof after another, she trotted boldly towards the exit of the castle. “This is Ponyville. Trixie's new home.” She smirked from ear to ear. “And there's still one place where Trixie can feel useful and needed!”
“Spring Break?!?!?” Trixie's voice squeaked out of a flabbergasted muzzle.
“Uh... that's right, Miss Lulamoon!” Sandbar smiled nervously, standing beside her in the middle of a nearly-empty School of Friendship. “Just started today! Goes on for a whole week!” He shifted under the weight of his saddlebags and rubbed his own mane with a nervous smile. “Didn't you... uh... get the memo?”
“No! I did not... 'uhhhh'... get the memo!” Trixie frowned, stamping a hoof down. “Seriously! What kind of a school has a spring break this far into April?! I thought it was a March thing!”
“Yes. But... ever since Headmare Glimmer decided to sign off on the year-round semester scheduling thingy, our whole calender's been out of sync with the rest of the Equestrian educational system.”
“Hrmmmf! That's a ludicrous system to agree to!”
“I know, right! Totally bogus!” Sandbar smiled—then immediately winced. “Er... b-but you didn't hear that from me, Miss Lulamoon.”
“Uh huh...” Trixie gazed loathsomely at the nearly empty-hallways adjoining the atrium of the campus.
“Although... I don't suppose...” Sandbar's petite figure fidgeted in place. “...what—being the Headmare's best friend and all, you might be able to convince her to... ohhhhh... I dunno... change things up a bit?”
Trixie squinted at him. “Trixie hasn't seen Starlight Glimmer in three weeks.”
“Oh. Snap. How sucky.” He cleared his throat and smiled awkwardly. “For... y'know... all of us!”
Silence.
Trixie raised an eyebrow. “What are you even doing here?”
“Hmm? Oh! Just... came back to the dorm to gather my things. There were other students here earlier, scrambling to do the same. But I guess I'm the last one out. Eheheh...” Sandbar gestured. “I've actually got a train to catch at the Ponyville Depot. I'll be spending spring break in Yakyakistan.”
“Uh huh...” Trixie looked around the chamber.
“Yona's going to show me where she grew up and stuff.”
“Yuh huh...” Trixie's eyes fell on a portrait of Headmare Glimmer. Upon seeing the unicorn's painterly smile, Trixie's ears drooped sadly.
“Also I'm going to see the Cliffs of Thunder...” Sandbar cooed, eyes starry. “Yona says they're super... super romantic...”
“Better bring protection.”
Sandbar jerked in place, blushing beet red. “I... uhhhh... erm—”
“Bring climbing gear. A harness. Maybe even a parachute.” Trixie looked at Sandbar. “It'd be a shame for a stallion and a yak to pass away so young from a needless fall—why are you blushing?”
“Er... n-no reason!” Sandbar saluted, cracking a sweaty smile. “As always, you make a wise and intuitive... g-guidance counselor! Eheheheheheh...!”
“... … ...” Trixie's lips pursed. She glanced left and right. “Perhaps...” A tiny spark lit up in her eyes. “...you could use more advice?”
“Uhhhhh... maybe?”
“Come...” Trixie gestured down the hallway. “...sit and relax in Trixie's office! We can have a long and heartfelt discussion about your future here in the School of Friendship!”
“Oh! I'd love to, but... uhm...” Sandbar gave his saddlebags a shake. “I'm on my way to the train station, remember?”
“You...” Trixie blinked. “...don't want to have a long and heartfelt discussion... with Trixie?”
“Sorry, Miss Lulamoon...” Sandbar was already backtrotting. “...but if I don't make it to the train on time, Yona's gonna smash me into gravel. And not in the good way.”
“Well, alright...”
“Nice seeing you back safe and sound from your tour, Miss!” Sandbar waved and scampered off. “At least now you get to hang out with all your friends! Enjoy spring break!”
Trixie snarled as he departed. “Maybe Trixie doesn't get to hang out with anypony...!” She hissed. “Least of all hornbrained students named after boring sedimentary features!!!” Her echoing breaths were heard by herself and herself alone. A rolling of her eyes, and she hung her head with a groan. “Trixie is pathetic...” She marched limply towards her office. “...should have just stayed and chatted with Twilight Sparkle's magical lizard assistant.”
Thwump!
Trixie sat limply in the chair before her desk.
The dimly-lit interior of her counseling office loomed around her. It was far dustier now than it ever was under the previous owner.
She gazed lethargically at a pile of letters lying beneath the mail slot of her opened door.
“Meh...”
She looked just as brightly at the pile of student forms and dossiers rising like a skyscraper from the base of her “In” pile.
“Mehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...”
She tilted her head back, shutting her eyes to the scattered rays of morning sunlight dancing through the windows of the place. Tiny particles floated around her in melancholic orbit.
It was dreadfully silent inside the School of Friendship.
Like a grave.
A sepulcher.
“... … ...”
Slowly, Trixie sat up.
Gnawing on her lip, she gazed into the adjacent hallway of the place.
Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak...
With violet telekinesis...
...the door to Headmare Starlight Glimmer's office swung open.
The walls were covered with portraits, photographs, mementos. The entire office was a tapestry of Starlight Glimmer's life. Her past, her present, and her always-shifting future.
Trixie felt very, very small inside such a place. This made it more or less easy for her to scale the lengths of it, trotting across the plush carpet until she stood before the desk. Her eyes remained glued to the standing plaque bearing her best friend's name.
She sighed... and her gaze drifted to the right. An eyebrow raised.
A plant rested limply inside a beige pot. The green had faded from most of its stems. Several of the leaves had gone brown, and others had drooped or even fallen off completely.
Trixie blinked. She trotted past the neglected plant—the desk as well.
Soon, Trixie climbed up onto the comfy couch lying perpendicular to Starlight's desk. She turned around three times, then plopped down on her haunches.
Another sigh.
Trixie's sad eyes scaled the walls of the place. She examined each photo on Starlight's walls—perhaps the first time she had ever consciously done so. She saw Starlight Glimmer posing with herself, Thorax, and Discord—all wearing medals.
But that wasn't the only group Starlight Glimmer was featured in. Trixie saw photographs of the headmare standing side-by-side with Princess Twilight Sparkle. There was another picture of her and Fluttershy at the nature reserve outside of Everfree. Then Starlight was posing alongside Rainbow Dash and the Wonderbolts. The Apple Family. Pinkie Pie at Sugarcube Corner. Rarity in front of a new boutique, alongside Sassy Saddles and Coco Pommel.
Then—framed neatly and centered above Starlight's desk—was a large portrait featuring the Headmare in the center of a massive group hug—one that consisted of Twilight and all her close friends. Starlight looked on the verge of choking, nevertheless enjoying the strong embrace of all her companions... but struggling from it at the same time. She still managed a genuine smile as she squinted out one eye.
“... … ...”
Trixie's eyes wandered back to the desk.
There was a tiny photograph in a stand-up frame. It was small and fragile—but it was obviously placed there so that the Headmare could see it at all times, whether working or not. And it was a picture of Starlight and Trixie sitting side by side, nuzzling while smiling at the camera. Their forelimbs rested casually over each other's withers. A beautifully friendly moment, frozen in time.
A lump formed in Trixie's throat. She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly.
Then...
“...lately, Trixie has been starting to wonder... if she is enough for you...”
Glossy eyes reopened, one after another.
“...if perhaps Trixie could have lived these last few years differently. A little less touring. A little more of the... boring stuff. Like socializing. Lecturing. Friendship lasering...”
Her gaze scraped the walls again.
“Look at you. Look at all the friends you made. All the great and powerful accomplishments.”
A gulp.
“... … ...and you share it all with Trixie. You... and all the amazing things that make up you.”
She slowly shook her head.
“Trixie doesn't deserve it. She never asked for it. But you give it anyway. And sometimes... Trixie wonders...”
She gnawed on her lip. Hesitated. Then blurted:
“...maybe if Trixie had done things differently... lived life differently... then maybe... just maybe... she'd have something nearly as amazing to share with you. To thank you.”
Silence.
“I miss you.”
A shudder.
“I miss everything.”
The shadows of the vacant school coalesced around her.
Trixie lay back on the couch, staring limply at the ceiling. After a while, she glanced at the desk once more.
Another brownish leaf fell from the plant's stem, fluttering like a dead feather to the floor before Trixie's eyes.
The showmare's jaw clenched. She looked across the room, spotting a water cooler. Getting up on stiff limbs, she approached the thing, magically levitated a cup, and gathered a liberal amount of moisture.
With dutiful motions, she trotted back to the desk and gently watered the plant, being sure to spread the liquid to all corners of the dying thing.
Even if it was far too late for the gesture.