Chapter Four
The Act of Opening
The roar of Trixie’s sedan was not a great loud thing, and thus didn’t do much to fill the silence left between the two girls as they drove down the road towards the Everton Arboretum. Buildings and trees passed by in quick succession through Trixie’s peripherals as she kept her eyes on the road, casting a furtive glance at her passenger every so often. Pinkie, for her part, had her seat partly leaned back and was staring out the window, open eyes reflected by the glare off the glass.
Those same melancholy eyes.
She’d originally turned off the music so the two of them could talk. Now that the moment was here, however, Trixie found herself at a loss on what to say. It surely didn’t help that even though she wanted to talk, she certainly didn’t feel like talking, a fact that Pinkie had no doubt picked up on, if her silence was anything to go by. After all, she could try to cheer Pinkie up all she wanted but, at the end of the day, it would all end up being meaningless platitudes. How often had she herself heard such things, the smell of cheap carpet cleaner in her nostrils as some overpriced therapist told her things would get better? Now she was even getting it from Silver as well. Was she really about to do the same thing to Pinkie?
I can’t even convince myself, she thought, switching lanes. I was longing for an accident last night. I’m about to walk away from magic. I– No– Who am I to be giving her advice?
She turned on the air conditioner as a distraction from her thoughts, her stale air-freshener trying and failing to carry through on the artificial breeze. Her hands were shaking, she noted, so she doubled the tightness of her grip as she returned them to the steering wheel.
But you can’t ignore those eyes.
Trixie risked another glance to the side, watching Pinkie reflected on her passenger window again. It just didn’t square with the image she had of her old classmate, almost as if the translucent visage was indeed some spectre, devoid of the color and vitality that made Pinkie… well… Pinkie. Without that spark, that translucent reflection did indeed look lifeless.
The thought made Trixie highly uncomfortable.
You’ve got to do something! Trixie thought, in between furtive glances. And yet, as she was about to look back towards the road, a peculiarity of the reflection caught her attention. Pinkie’s eyes did indeed hold that same sadness in their reflected state. However…
Shouldn’t they be moving?
As the world passed by the window, cars and buildings alike, those eyes stayed fixed at a single point in the distance, locked on a target. They were studying something, or someone. And in fact, if she didn’t know any better, it would almost seem as if they were looking directly at h—
Shit, Trixie cursed, turning her attention forwards in a snap. Good, now she thinks I was staring at her or something. Though she was looking at me too…
And it was a look she definitely recognized.
I wonder what she read from me this time.
Deciding to give up on conversation for the time being, Trixie reached up to her car’s audio system and turned it back on, resuming play of her earlier CD. The soft melody and especially the masterful harmonies of the track, did a lot to brighten her mood, and would definitely make the rest of the car ride more enjoyable. Ironically, however, this move was apparently what was needed to draw Pinkie into a dialogue.
“Oooh, this is really pretty,” she said, turning to face the console. “Who is it?”
“Smooth Groove,” Trixie replied, keeping her eyes forward as she drove. “He was a one-hit-wonder in the seventies, but put out a bunch of albums. This is one of those albums.”
“Really?” Pinkie nodded along as another song started. “You don’t really strike me as a seventies R&B sort of girl. Always thought you were a metal and rock type. Ooh I know! I know! Was it your dad’s and now you listen to it as a way to stay close to him because he’s no longer around?”
“Pff! As if,” Trixie scoffed. “The store has this bargain bin of discount CDs that no one wants. Once they’re marked down below a certain point, they’re basically free to employees with our discount, so Jazz just lets us have them for free if we want them. Helps clear out the bin faster and gives us some free music that we might not have listened to otherwise.”
“That’s pretty smart.”
“Yeah, they do have some pretty good ideas here and there,” Trixie agreed. “And no, I’m not really a seventies R&B fan, but some music is just special, like listen to this guy here.”
Pinkie leaned forward, closer to the console, as Trixie turned up the volume slightly.
“He’s a pretty good singer, sure, but fairly average for the time period,” Trixie continued. “His band is also ok. But the arrangements put them on another level. Like right now it sounds pretty good, but wait for the chorus when the back up singers come in with the harmonies, the whole thing jumps up in level, and then they stay for the second verse, the whole thing is just amazing.”
Pinkie nodded, swept up in the excitement as she waited. As promised, the chorus then hit, and the melodies of the back up singers began to mix with those Smooth Groove. Perfect harmonies, intricate arrangements. Magnificence. Trixie chanced a quick glance at Pinkie and was pleased to see a small “oh” of surprise upon her lips. And yet, her eyes showed something Trixie couldn’t quite place, something like understanding or comprehension—of what she could only guess. Most disturbing still, Pinkie’s attention was no longer focused on the console, or the speakers, or even the outside world, but on Trixie herself. But Trixie had to look back at the road before she could analyze Pinkie any further.
No matter, she figured. I’ll probably find out soon anyway.
“So…I don’t know how you’re gonna take this” Pinkie said softly, two songs into their listening session. “But you do know those were the Dazzlings right?”
“What?” Trixie squawked, the name almost causing her to swerve. Almost. She paused the music halfway through a chorus. “No, they weren’t! That’s ridiculous.”
“Okay, then who are they?”
“I don’t know,” Trixie said, reaching under her seat. She pulled out the CD case and handed it to Pinkie who began looking through the insert booklet. “Some nameless session singers hired to sing back up for the album, just like the guitarists and the saxophone player. Back then they wouldn’t always get credited unless they were super famous. Laws were awful like that. Cause it was the seventies.”
“Hm…” Pinkie hummed loudly. “Well if I was a siren who was only good at singing and who never aged and I wanted to earn money without letting people know about me, this does sound like the type of thing I would be totally up for. Oh! Sorry! That’s not to say that Adagio is only good at singing. She might be good at plenty of things. I know you had that crush on her and if you’re still listening to her music then—”
“We do not talk about that,” Trixie interrupted sharply, with a snap of her fingers in front of Pinkie’s eyes. She could already feel a blush growing on her cheeks, so she took a few deep breaths to cool down before continuing. “And there’s no way that’s the three of them. Even if I believe the whole immortal magic siren bit, which I’ll admit isn’t off the table considering the things I’ve seen, it would still be a huge leap to think they just decided to become session singers as a way to make money. Not only that, but the idea that I’ve been listening to them for months without noticing is ridiculous.”
She punctuated her last sentence with a humph of what she hoped was finality, before pressing play on the CD again. But when she did, she found she really wished she hadn’t.
The song played right where she had paused it, a part with harmonies. This was one of her favorite parts of the whole CD actually, a tapestry of gently woven vocals. But, now that Pinkie had pointed it out, the voices were unmistakable. She’d certainly never quite forgotten one of those voices.
In one swift motion Trixie pulled over to the side of the road, slammed on her brakes, and opened the passenger window.
“Woah, what’s going on?” Pinkie questioned, but Trixie was ignoring her, too busy getting the album out of the player. Once out, she pressed it between her palms, adding pressure until the CD snapped in half. Satisfied, Trixie then threw both halves and the CD case out the window. Then, she wiped her hands against her clothes, raised the passenger side window, and rejoined the flow of traffic.
“Well, that takes care of that,” Trixie said brightly to no one in particular as she took out a different CD from her collection and placed it into the player. “This one is some Motown from the 50’s, so definitely no need to worry about them showing up here.”
And yet, as the album began to play, Trixie couldn’t help but notice the almost heavenly backup singers, the uncredited trio of familiar sounding session singers, or the way that Pinkie was pointedly avoiding eye contact by staring out the window, a knowing smile showing in her reflection.
But I really like this one, she whined within her mind, before a darker thought came to her. Slowly, she thought about her collection of albums, stashed away in binders in the back and in cases underneath her seat. How many of those have a trio of uncredited female session singers?
She made some mental calculations and found she didn’t really care much for the answer.
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.
“So.. Whatcha want?”
That’s what it comes down to, isn’t it?
What Trixie wanted used to seem so clear, once upon a time. But then, things had been so much simpler then. The world had been so much simpler then. Trixie knew better now, and there was no getting around that. What she wanted was so insignificant in comparison to the scope of what she’d seen. And if her aspirations were so miniscule now, then what was she?
Stay in the moment, she reminded herself. You know you want to help Pinkie. That’s a start. Figure it out from there, decision by decision, starting with this one. The rest can come later.
“Vanilla,” she finally said, with a decisive nod. If the ice cream vendor found the amount of time it took her to come to that conclusion odd, she chose not to comment, nodding instead and parsing out two spoonfuls unto a waiting disposable bowl.
“Here you go.”
Trixie offered her thanks as she paid, eager to leave the chilly interior of the parkside ice-cream shop. Stepping outside, however, offered little relief, the direct sunlight grazing her skin doing little more than prickling against the goosebumps on her arms. Squinting across the way, she noticed Pinkie taking lazy spoonfuls from her ice cream while staring at a family from a wooden bench.
“What flavor did you get?” Trixie asked as she stepped closer, eventually taking a seat next to the girl.
“Birthday cake and marshmallow,” Pinkie answered, eyes still trained on the family a few ways away. “I’m guessing you got the caramel?”
“Vanilla, actually.”
That seemed to get Pinkie’s attention, as the girl finally turned to stare at Trixie, or more specifically Trixie’s cup.
“Something the matter?” Trixie asked indignantly, taking a spoonful of the ice cream. The cold feld good against her tongue.
“No…” Pinkie said slowly. “Just different, is all.”
As she said it, however, Trixie could see Pinkie’s brain turning, analyzing her in some way she couldn’t understand. Pinkie’s eyes went from the ice cream to Trixie’s own eyes, and gave a questioning tilt of her head.
A small breeze passed by, and Trixie didn’t feel like eating ice cream anymore.
This is ridiculous, she thought, placing the bowl next to herself on the bench. It’s not like I had a favorite flavor back in school and even if I did, it’s not like she would honestly remember what it was after all this time.
A restless part of her mind argued that she couldn’t be sure of either of those statements. It unnerved her.
Trixie could almost feel a bit of that old bravado well up inside of her, a response to the uncomfortable situation she found herself in, but Pinkie turned to look back at the family before she could use it to any extent. A held breath dissipated without a sound.
And I still don’t know what to say, Trixie thought, as she looked between Pinkie and the object of her seeming interest. She tried to think of how Silver would handle this, or any other therapist she’d gone to, but came up blank. Not that they ever got me to open up in the first place.
A memory suddenly crossed her mind. It was an old memory, involving Pinkie, Trixie, and a night when words seemed just as difficult and scarce. The memory gave her an idea, one she didn’t particularly like. She glanced back at Pinkie, then at the ice cream by her side. Then she took a breath.
“It’s all tasteless anyway.”
Pinkie rapidly turned her head towards her companion, startled by the sudden declaration.
“What—”
“That’s why I got vanilla,” Trixie continued. “I mean. Not tasteless, I can obviously taste flavors but they're not really enjoyable anymore. Nothing really is and it hasn’t been for a while. It didn’t really matter what flavor I got, so I didn’t really think it through. I just… picked one? I didn’t even want ice cream! I know you liked it and I figured you wouldn’t say no to it, so getting it was more of a thing to do than something I really put a lot of thought into.”
“Oh,” Pinkie answered, giving Trixie her undivided attention.
“Nothing has been enjoyable for a while,” Trixie near whispered, her palms grazing the wooden grain of the bench. “Nothing has been fulfilling. So I’ve been making decisions this way for a while. Anyway, I told you what was on my mind, so…”
And as she finished, Trixie nodded towards the family that Pinkie had been staring at since they’d gotten there.
Pinkie creased her brow in confusion before seeming to make the connection.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Oh! Oh! Right! It’s only fair. Um…”
Trixie watched as Pinkie bit her thumb, presumably putting some thought into what she wanted to say, and waited in silence. After a minute or so, it seemed Pinkie was ready.
“That girl is having a birthday party with her family and some friends that ran off to play in the park,” Pinkie said finally, turning her gaze back to them. “Must be what? Sixth grade? It got me thinking of me at that age. My family was really close back then. And then later I met the girls, my other family. And then for years afterwards I got to spend some of the scariest, most stressful, most wonderfullest times ever with them. I planned dances. I helped out in a shelter. I modeled dresses. There were so many things I got to be a part of… It wasn’t all good, of course, but I was a part of it.”
Pinkie stopped for a good while there, staring at that family again, at the girl in particular. Trixie wondered if she was supposed to say something, but chose to wait instead.
“I wonder what she’s going to be a part of?” Pinkie said finally. “I was picturing the many things she might do. And there’s so many, Trixie. I guess I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.”
“You?” Trixie asked in hushed tones, unable to hide her surprise. “You are jealous of some kid? You have arcane powers and intimate knowledge of other realms. You can transform at will and use that form to fight against evil monsters. You have actual, honest-to-goodness magic!”
“You’re not wrong,” Pinkie said, eyeing Trixie in a way that very much implied that she was. “I mean, I’m not actually sure that I have those powers still, haven’t needed them in a while. But, even if I did, yeah, I guess I am still jealous.”
“How?”
“Why,” Pinkie corrected, shaking her head. “Magic for me was always more about doing things for other people. Even the powers, they were there to help when I was needed. Helping made me feel special, and the powers let me help more than I ever could before, which made me feel even more special. That’s what magic was to me. But…”
“But,” Trixie prompted, unwilling to let Pinkie lapse into silence again.
“But,” Pinkie continued, “I’m just not needed anymore. Everyone who needed me is gone. Caramel likes me but doesn’t really need me. Sunset went back home. Maud is in college. Limestone is living with her girlfriend. Rarity is in Paris. Dashie and Shy are all over the world. AJ never asks for help. Really, the only one left is my sister Marble and she’ll move out soon as well. And then it’ll just be me. Which is fine. I mean, it should be fine. Everyone grows up, right? Everyone leaves. So what if they take their magic with them?”
Trixie watched as tears pooled around Pinkie’s eyes, and was at a loss for words as Pinkie wiped them.
“What I would give to be her age again,” Pinkie said, nodding at the girl, before letting her head drop. “But, that’s not how the world works. I guess I was just having some silly thoughts.”
“You’re wrong.”
Trixie surprised herself at her outburst, the words leaving her mouth before she’d even planned on a response. And yet, they felt right and did not take them back. Instead, she waited for a reaction, any reaction, from Pinkie at her statement. When she got none, she continued.
“First of all, they’re not silly thoughts. They’re just thoughts. Wishes. Musings. And who doesn’t wish they could do the good parts over again? I know I wish I could. Wishing to have something back that you miss isn’t silly. It’s human. Hell, I would go back just to tell myself not to fall for Adagio.”
Trixie waited for a response, yet again. She hoped for a chuckle or a comment, but got nothing. She continued.
“As for this ‘everyone who needed you’ business? Please! Everyone at that school needed you. You really think it was just those six? That whole place was hopeless and I know for a fact that most of those idiots still live nearby if you wanted to reconnect. Or did you forget about all the dances that wouldn’t have happened without you? All the parties and fundraisers? All the catering for the special groups and events? I’m pretty sure everyone there owes you. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to get started without your support. Or kept going without you always willing to help. If those morons were dumb enough to move away from you, then that’s their loss. And I do mean, their loss.”
Trixie continued to stare, waiting for anything, almost jumping to her feet as Pinkie slowly, hesitantly, raised her head to meet Trixie’s gaze. Pinkie’s eyes had changed slightly. Most probably wouldn’t have noticed, but Trixie had. There was a spark, a glimmer of something awakening within Pinkie. More telling, perhaps, was the smile adorning her face, framed by drying teartracks.
That spark was still a small and fleeting thing, not enough to catch, but Trixie could now detect an ember where before she’d been afraid she’d seen nothing. And strangely enough, as Pinkie continued to stare at her with that smile, she thought that maybe she could feel that same ember within herself as well.
“Where is that clown?!”
The yell came from fairly far away and was not particularly loud, and yet both Pinkie and Trixie immediately turned their attention to the balding man on his cellphone. From there, their gaze went back to the family they had been watching who seemed to be growing more and more frustrated by the moment, as the kids gathered for a show that was apparently not happening.
“Tsk tsk,” Pinkie clicked her tongue, “Kinda feel sorry for them. Still though, clown was a bad call for kids that age anyway. Too old, don’t you think?”
“Definitely,” Trixie agreed. “Some music maybe, a magician, or maybe a balloon animal artist, but one of those classy ones. Definitely not a clown for a sixth grader.”
“You know… We do have a magician on hand here. You could swoop in and fix everything. The vigilante magician coming out of nowhere!”
“Yeah right,” Trixie replied with a wry smile. “Let me just get my knife collection out of my trunk. No one’s going to raise an eyebrow at that. Maybe I should just have her shoot me.”
A moment of silence passed.
“It’s a new trick I do,” Trixie added hastily. “I’m fine at the end.”
“...Right,” Pinkie blinked rapidly. “But I meant more like a card trick? You still carry those in your pocket, right?”
And suddenly it was Trixie’s turn to hesitate before answering. Her hand absentmindedly traced the deck of cards against her thigh through her pants as she thought of her response.
“I do…” she began, “But I don’t really do that anymore. I was going to throw them away today, actually. And if we’re being totally honest, I probably won’t be performing at all before too long.”
“Oh,” Pinkie frowned. “That’s sad to hear. You don’t have to tell me, but… Can I ask why?”
Whatever reaction Trixie expected, this was not it. Still, she nodded.
“Back during the Friendship Games, I got to see real magic up close. I saw what you and your friends could do. It was my first time seeing it without mind control, without that filter that makes it all foggy and hard to remember. I saw the world was so much bigger than I thought, and that magic, real magic, was not only a thing but so much more than I could have ever imagined. And in the face of all of that was useless little me, holding cards and tricking people into believing I was more than I really was. I– I just can’t. Not when I know how small I am.”
Trixie gave off a sharp laugh.
“My magic is overrated anyway. A cheap copy of the real thing.”
“You’re wrong.”
Trixie felt Pinkie place a hand on her shoulder, and chose to focus on that hand rather than the person speaking to her for the time being.
“I get why you feel that way,” Pinkie said. “I do. I have been at the center of a lot of Equestrian Magic, and it is just as big and… well big as you say it is. So I get it. But I’ve also seen your shows up close a ton of times. And really, seeing you up on a stage, giving it your all, seeing everyone react to everything you do, seeing you in your element… well– that’s as real as magic gets. I would know.”
Trixie raised her gaze from Pinkie’s hand to her eyes, a determined stare meeting hers. She tried to respond but found her throat dry, and focused instead on suppressing a cough.
“Real magic is inside you,” Pinkie pressed on. “What you do for others? What you’re excited about? What you share with others? Acts of caring? That’s real magic, and you’re one of the most magical people I know. And right now there’s a kid who could use some magic on her birthday. So come on, we’re going.”
Without further warning, Pinkie grabbed Trixie’s arm and began dragging her towards the family. Trixie uttered various noises in protest and began to pull back. Strangely, she found that she could.
She’s not actually forcing me?
However, despite now knowing she had the ability to snap free from her grasp, Trixie did not actually do so. Pinkie’s words continued to float through her mind, as she continued her forward walk, as if compelled by actual magic, to the point that she might have been afraid that was the case had she not known for a fact what that experience was like.
“Can we help you?” the mom asked, as the duo stepped closer with clear intent to approach. Pinkie nudged Trixie in front of her, much to Trixie’s displeasure. Still, Trixie was nothing, if not a performer.
“Actually,” she spoke airly, “we were hoping we could help you. We could not help but overhear your husband’s outburst a second ago. I happen to be a passing magician with some time between shows and my assistant and I could simply not bear the idea of a young girl lacking for entertainment on her special day. I know I’m no clown but, perhaps a bit of free magic might do?”
The mom looked unsure but the decision was ultimately out of her hands. The second Trixie had said “magic,” the kids behind them had all perked up.
“Please, Mom?” the birthday girl begged. “Just one trick, please?”
The mom smiled and nodded, stepping to the side. Suddenly, the kids at the party, as well as a bunch of other kids that had been nearby rushed forward, taking a seat on the ground. The birthday girl took a seat at the front. Trixie gave one last glance at Pinkie, who gave her a thumbs up. She then removed the cards from her pocket and took a deep breath.
“Well, if I only get one trick, then I better make this one count,” she said, making a show of thinking to herself. “How about I gift you some magic of my own? It is your birthday after all.”
“Really? You’d do that?”
“I think so,” Trixie smiled. “I don’t do it very often. I have to recover afterwards. But, it is a special day. What’s your name?”
“Ruby.”
“Ah yes. Definitely a name worthy of power. Let us begin.”
Trixie made a show of shuffling the deck while all the kids murmured and whispered in awe at her dexterity, the crisp snap of the cards creating a counterpoint to their staggered rhythm. She ended the shuffling with a clap of her hands, the small boom causing all the kids to jump in their seated position. At first they giggled at the shock, before the sound of awe rang out again as they saw that in Trixie’s hands, the deck of cards was now completely fanned out. She asked Ruby to pick a card and show it to her friends.
“Now, the normal version of this trick is one I’m sure you’ve seen before,” Trixie began, taking the card and shuffling it into the deck. “It’s quite simple. You pick a card. You put it in. I shuffle the deck. I pull out your card. No one knows how. Applause.”
From the deck she drew Ruby’s card to a chorus of excitement. With a smile she put it back into the deck and began to shuffle it again.
“The problem is that this trick has been done. There’s no challenge to it. No nuance. So I wanted to change it a bit. Here’s what I’m thinking. What if I could get you to draw the card instead? Infuse you with magic for long enough that you, without any training, could pull the right card? Wouldn’t that be something?”
Ruby’s eyes went wide at the prospect, a small nod of her head as a response. Trixie fanned the cards out again.
“Now, what I need you to do is to maintain eye contact with me, to form a connection, and draw blindly from where you think your card is. As long as our connection remains strong, you’ll make the right choice. Then put your card up to your chest and don’t look at it.”
Ruby took a deep and solemn breath as every other kid present held theirs. Then, she locked eyes with Trixie. Trixie nodded at her and kept her eyes locked on Ruby as well, letting her peripheral vision do the work. Ruby drew her card and quickly, almost violently, pressed it against her chest. Trixie, who had been kneeling to maintain eye contact, stood up and pretended to examine the back of the deck before giving off a dramatic sigh.
“What’s wrong, Ms. Magician?”
“Oh, nothing,” Trixie said, “The trick got a little messed up is all. You should have told me you already had magic of your own. Could have saved me the trouble.”
Ruby looked around in confusion, obviously afraid of having done something wrong. The other kids, however, had picked up on what Trixie had said. Whispers of “Ruby already had magic?” started circulating around her.
“What do you mean?”
“What I said. You already had magic, so when I gave you mine, you became too powerful for our little trick. The real problem is that I wasn’t clear enough. I asked you to draw your card, not the card you had drawn before, but to draw your card. And so you did. This is the card you drew before.”
Trixie drew from the deck the same card Ruby had drawn and showed it to the crowd. She then placed it back into the deck and pocketed the whole thing.
“What you have there,” she said pointing at the card Ruby was holding, “is your card. It’ll make more sense if you turn it over.”
The other kids gathered around Ruby as she flipped the card to reveal the Queen of Diamonds.
“The Queen of Diamonds for Ruby,” Trixie said, still not having seen the card. “A gem for a gem.”
The kids lost it.
Clapping. Yelling. Cheering. Jumping.
A part of Trixie worried that they might accidentally rip the card, but it was only a small part.
I can always get another.
In the end, she did get her card back, along with a heartfelt thank you from both Ruby and her mother, as well as two slices of cake, which Pinkie and Trixie were now beginning to dig into, over on their bench.
“You know,” Pinkie said, with a mouth half full, “I’ve always liked that trick. I remember when you did it to Rarity. I think you gave her the same card too!”
“Somehow I think she’ll manage,” Trixie said, licking frosting from her spork.
“You have no idea,” Pinkie giggled. “She’s very generous like that. But, it’s a little different than I remember.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Pinkie said, putting her spork down for a moment and looking at Trixie earnestly. “Pinkie feels like something is missing from it. Something really special and wonderful that made the whole thing come together. She really hopes Trixie puts it back again.”
Trixie expected Pinkie to go back to eating her cake after that, but instead she kept her gaze focused on her. And so, Trixie stared back into those eyes.
It wasn’t every day that someone had a close encounter with magic. Some went their entire lives looking for that spectacle, that enchantment that blurred the line between reality and disbelief. Very few ever found it. Trixie had come across magic before, that awe inspiring dwarfing energy, and had been overwhelmed with it’s absence ever since. And yet, as she stared at Pinkie, she felt its presence again.
There were no lights this time, no wings, no equine ears, no hair extensions, no earth shaking displays of might. Instead, there was just a gentle nod, a lively smile, and a hitch in Trixie’s breath. But it was unmistakable, a magic as real as Trixie had ever felt.
It was not every day that someone had a close encounter with magic. Luckily for Trixie, she had Pinkie Pie.