//------------------------------// // Chapter 11: Now You Don't // Story: The Magician's Mantle // by DEI Caboose //------------------------------// Trixie didn't know what was ash and what was snow. Black and white flakes broke apart against the earth, adhering to her charred hooves and dragging cape. She trudged down one alley, and then another. She couldn't be seen. She could not allow herself to be seen. The dreaded noises echoed off the barren brick walls. The crackling of the flames were still audible, no matter how far Trixie walked the sounds just didn't seem to stop. It wasn't just the flames though, the screaming was still there. The horrified and panicked screams and shouts of both ponies fortunate enough to escape into the streets and perhaps of those who hadn't. The screams forced Trixie to run. She was thankful her wagon was parked away from the commotion just down the road, secluded on the edge of the pavement, blanketed under a fresh sheet of frost. Trixie slipped straight through the door without a second glance. Despite her reluctance to be seen, she didn't care, it didn't matter. It had never mattered. Trixie leaned against the door, blocking out the noises down the street as best she could. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn't breath, not with this burnt mask constricting her. Trixie harshly ripped it off and threw it away. But she still couldn't breath, this costume, her costume blackened by smoke and soot to the point the purple was almost invisible. It needed to come off. She couldn't wear it anymore. Trixie grunted and screamed as she tore the costume from her body, making some of the noticeable rips and tears even worse. It was irrelevant, she needed to get it off. She needed to breath. Each article was slammed against the wall, every piece of her prized construction was dismantled and thrown until Trixie stood bare. She still felt constricted. She still couldn't breath. Trixie held herself and leaned back up against the wall, sliding down it until she sat upon the carpet; her stupid, putrid, raggedy carpet. She sat and stared at the fallen Mare-Do-Well cowl and cape, laying right next to her hastily removed purple starred magician’s cape she had been clothed in earlier. Neither one was hers to wear. This was it, this was the end. That experience, that nightmare was too much. Trixie was resilient, she had proven it time and time again. But that fire… Shining Armor, Apple Pie and Trixie's own actions; her idiocy. She couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't do this anymore. Trixie became conscious of her pain, her stinging mane making her shake. She held a hoof to the back of her head, wincing and whimpering as she did. It felt wet and smelled metallic, it was hot too, not burned by the fire but the feeling was the same. Trixie attempted to ignite her horn, but her magic was exhausted the same as her body. Crawling across the carpet like a foal, Trixie reached below her bed with her free foreleg, instinctively locating what she was searching for. Her hoof met something cool and made of glass, and if it were under different circumstances Trixie would have sighed in relief. Instead she shut her eyes; her vision was still glowing red. She could still see the flames. Pulling the bottle from under the bed, Trixie placed it at the back of her head, sighing for real as it soothed her aching pain. The coldness of the glass and liquid housed within was not enough however, and Trixie found herself twisting the cap off. The Great and Powerful Trixie; The Mysterious Mare-Do-Well, wept, drunk and cradled herself between her discarded capes. And within time forced herself to do what she knew she always did best. Trixie ran away. “Marshal, please just tell me, are you hurt anywhere else? Anywhere I haven't already checked?” Shining ignored the nurse, he didn't hear what they had said, he didn't even know if it was a male or a female, Shining just stared. Sat upon the curb, hoof deep in snow with a blanket around his soot covered shoulders, Shining simply sat and stared at the ash ridden ground. The fire was still glowing red behind him, the heat leaking onto his back. Shining etched away. All around him ponies were running; futilely attempting to quell the flames, tending to the injured, rendezvousing with their fallen colleagues and others simply fleeing, fleeing as fast as they could to anywhere else but here. Shining felt sick. Equestria may not have been the crowned utopia like it was known as in the stories told across the sea and in The Crystal Empire, but it was close, or at least Shining had thought it was. Tonight had been more than enough to shatter that image, where all the changelings, nightmares and discords had failed to before. Those stories had just heros, obvious villains, happy endings and a better tomorrow. None of the stories ever told of the life's ruined and of the fears that lingered. These ponies would never forget this. It wasn't just a police station burning down behind him, a structure of mere stone and brick. It was a monument; a testament to Fillydelphia’s dedication to its citizens to never allow for crime to prevail beyond justice, to never let them down. It wasn't just a building, it was a promise. A broken promise. Shining already knew what the headlines tomorrow would be, the panic they would spread. This wasn't a failure, this was a catastrophe on a monumental level. Ponies were still in the building. His foreleg trembled, and from his fear rose his rage. Shining could not allow for this to happen again. On his hooves in an instant, Shining stood tall and he stood unyielding. No weakness could be allowed, least of all at a time like this. The ponies around him would be looking for guidance before long, if their Prince was just as paralysed by fear as the rest of them, what hope was there at all? Shining was not afraid. He was not allowed to be afraid. Royal guards were not afraid. His movements were swift. His legs carried him through the carnage until he approached a white medical tent that had been placed up a little way down the street. Once the fire had begun the combined efforts of the police, ambulance and firefighters had resulted in the entire area being cordoned off. It was disorganised and it was in disarray but for the moment it was functional, which was all Shining could ask for. He entered the tent, where many injured ponies were lying to be protected from the snow. Shining looked on with sympathy, but he was here for another purpose. Commisioner Book was stationed near the opened rear of the tent, pointing a different pony in a different direction every few seconds, shouting orders with each and every gesture. One side of his body appeared blacker than the rest, his mane frizzy and his face dirty with sweat. Shining laid a hood upon his shoulder, and Book took a second to breath before greeting Shining with a rough hug. “If you weren't the Prince I'd smack you for running back into that building!” Book exclaimed with evident relief. He ended the embrace and laid his hooves upon Shining's neck. “But you saved Case. I'll never be able to thank you enough.” Shining looked on solemnly, Book’s smile was a small victory, but it was a hollow one. “The prisoners in lock-up as well, I had to let them out,” Shining winced as Book looked downcast. “Unfortunately, most of them escaped in the confusion,” Book stated but held his head high before Shining could show any guilt. “But there ain't a pony who's going to look down on you for that! You're a hero, Marshal Armor! Few stallions are brave enough to do what you did today!” ‘One mare was though,’ Shining added on in his thoughts. “It was nothing, just my duty.” Shining drolly replied, he didn't feel like showing any joy was appropriate given the circumstances. There was one pony he wanted to know about though. “What about Ms. Apple Pie? Is she alright?” Book nodded swiftly. “Shaken up and a little worse for wear, but she'll be okay thanks to you.” “And Mare-Do-Well,” Shining added on instinct. The Commissioner blinked, unexpecting Shining’s addition. “She was here?” Book asked, practically a whisper. Shining sat upon his haunches and revelled in the comfort it brought him. “She was, and she saved Apple Pie.” Shining wrung his hooves together, but the distraction was not ample enough to drown out his thoughts of guilt at how he had been so judgemental. “I… Was wrong about her, we were all wrong about her.” “She’s not a problem?” Book inquired gruffly and unsure. Shining was adamant. He knew what he had seen, how she had run to those screams. “I'm sure,” was his final statement. Mare-Do-Well was not the problem. Book ruffled his moustache, but his expression failed to soften or harden in the slightest, as if other, darker thoughts were plaguing him. “Regardless, Mare-Do-Well and any ongoing cases are on hold indefinitely until we can get this situation sorted out. I'm diverting everypony to salvaging operations, once the fire’s out we need to start digging for-” “What about the arsonist?” Shining's interruption was perplexed, he sat with an arched neck while Book shook his own ‘no’ in reply. “Marshal, we have nothing to go on. The police station just burned down, my officers are scattered-” “He just killed and crippled dozens of ponies and you're not going-!” “What else is there to do?!” Book erupted in anger. “The department’s been set back years because of this fire! All our evidence, all the records, everything is gone! We have nothing on anypony! We've lost so much!” Book laid his hooves upon his head and his shook his skull as if he was in agony. “We don't even know who’s dead yet! So many ponies are missing, we can't protect Fillydelphia if we don't get organised. I can't mobilise a manhunt until we get our resources in check!” Book brought his hooves down, one buckling slightly as it met the ground from injury or nerves, Shining couldn't be sure. That building had contained Book’s and so many others life's work, all gone in an instant. The Commissioner’s frown more than showed his barely contained rage. “The moment we establish ourselves I promise you, Marshal, we'll get this stallion and he will answer for what he did. But I can't just give up on everypony else to do that, I need to prove to Fillydelphia that the police can protect them. This arsonist is not the only criminal in this city, others are going to take advantage of this mess if we don't move swiftly.” Throughout it all, Shining remained still and silent. He understood the Commissioner’s words, even agreed with him to an extend. But it did not sit well with him, not after what he had just witnessed. If nopony was looking for the arsonist, what had he to fear? What would stop him from doing all this once more or fleeing, never to be seen again? “I understand, Commissioner.” Was Shining’s simple reply before he turned to walk away, looking at the floor to avoid the lingering stares of those around him. “Marshal.” Shining looked back as Book called out to him. “The moment we are ready, this guy is going to pay, but I need your help first to clean all this up.” Book’s voice softened, his frown steadying into something more unreadable. “The Mayor’s been in touch, he's holding a press conference tomorrow to address this… debacle and everything that's been going on with the fires and the arsons. He wants you to speak, saying what you're going to do stop this guy,” Book took a breath. “Any ideas on what you're going to say?” Shining's answer was out of his mouth before he had a second longer to think about it. “Tell the Mayor I'm going to do whatever it takes.” With that, Shining walked away, leaving Commissioner Book to linger over his plans in solitude. The air was crisp and dour. The fire was dwindling now, with embers searing against the snow. It was cool enough to approach now, and Shining Armor found himself situated at the steps to the department's entrance. He looked above, where the windows had been blown outwards from the interior by a significant blast of flame. Shining had been just below it at the time, and he found himself shaking due to how close he had come. ‘How did he manage it?’ Shining pondered as he stood by the steps. ‘How was he able to smuggle a bomb into the station completely undetected? Surely somepony saw something suspicious going on?' Shining would have preferred to ponder these thoughts further, but an influx of worried firefighters pushing him back broke him from his thoughts. They were not going to take the risk against his safety they told him; where one bomb was, another was possible to follow. As he was forced back from the steps, Shining turned with a huff. There was nothing more he could think to do tonight; he had no resources, the police were currently occupied, his guard was dispersed and the eyes of Fillydelphia were upon him at all angles. The morning would offer new possibilities, he could perhaps call for aid from Canterlot, and the Mayor’s press conference would definitely sway other figures to his side. He decided it was best to retire to his hotel and plan his speech, words were often just as influential as any blade or spell. As Shining retreated however, his hoof came into contact with something different from the snow covered asphalt. It was made of cloth, blanketed in frost and stiffened by ice. Shining found himself levitating it high, the snow shaking off it as it rose. He could not help but raise his eyebrows as he realised what it was. The purple hat embroidered with silver and golden stars was practically ingrained in Shining’s memory by this point. It's noteworthy pointed peak had been flattened into the earth, likely from the plethora of hooves that had stamped upon it. But when Shining straightened it out he found himself drawing short breaths. “It's Trixie's…” He said lowly, before his eyes began to widen. Trixie had been here. Trixie was Apple Pie’s acquaintance. Mare-Do-Well had been here. Mare-Do-Well had been searching for Apple Pie. Shining’s breaths grew shorter as he started to remember. All the little details forming in his thoughts. A distinct magenta colour flashed in his sight. The colour of Trixie's magic. The colour of Mare-Do-Well’s magic. And while the memories were muddled by confusion and his initial franticism. Shining remembered what he had seen, he had remembered what he had heard. He had seen an azure coat shielded under the torn purple and black garments. He had heard the anger in Mare-Do-Well’s voice that was all too familiar to him from earlier in the day. Shining held the magician’s hat firm. He was going to do whatever it took. And he didn't think he was the only one. The snow was soft, like a blanket; a fluffy white blanket. Trixie wondered if this was what it was like to sleep upon a cloud, she had never gotten the opportunity to do so before; cloud-walking spells were far beyond her current capabilities. Trixie snorted as she held the bottle high and chugged down the last of the stinging liquid within. She had never been very good at magic, not real magic anyway. She had always aspired to be great and powerful, to be number one, to be the highest level unicorn. And yet like everything Trixie had ever attempted, failure was all she was met with. She never made it through Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns in its entirety. Always distracted. Always uninitiated. Illusions and parlour tricks didn't turn heads or inspire awe when you were surrounded by literal prodigies and legends. Trixie had just been another face in a featureless crowd, burdened by expectations of worth and legacy. By the time she was a teenager Trixie had struck out on her own. Braving the world in the only way she knew how. Magic. Magic and the arts she so adored. She wanted to be great and powerful. The greatest and most powerful. But the story of Trixie Lulamoon culminated in her laying on the curb next to a destitute wagon, drowning her sorrows and murmuring about memories long past. Trixie, in all her experience of loathe and envy, had never felt more worthless. She tried. She had always tried so hard. For so long she had tried to be the best she could possibly be, lately she had been trying harder than ever before, trying to overcome her shortcomings and bury the demons that had taken hold of her life. Mare-Do-Well had been her chance, but Trixie now knew it was asinine to ever consider it as viable. She was at her core a selfish, narcissistic, bragging, disillusioned and evil pony. Just as Shining Armor had said so. Just as everypony had always said so. And Trixie now realised that Shining Armor was right. So right she could still hear his voice inside her head. “Trixie? Are you awake?” She turned onto her side, her head was swimming enough as it is. Trixie simply wanted to sleep, the voices in her head needed to learn their place. They needed to shut up for once. Something started to tap her, prodding her continuously. Trixie was not in the mood for it, swiping her hoof at whatever it was as she continued to lay. “‘o away,” she slurred out. “Can't you see ‘m sleeping?” The prodding ceased, but the distinct sound of crunching snow rung out and a shadow loomed over Trixie, who forced herself into a leaning position with her forelegs. She looked up at the intruder, and even in her tipsy state she could not prevent a wicked glare from overcoming her features. “You,” she seethed out, too angry to say or do anything else. Shining Armor stood tall, but his looming form was not meant to intimidate. He looked to Trixie with concern and the one thing Trixie feared and despised above all else including herself; pity. Trixie snarled. Shining did not react, too tired for another confrontation. He looked to Trixie like she was a victim, his features setting in a perpetual frown. “Trixie, why are you out on the street like this? It's not… Healthy.” Trixie pulled herself to her hooves, cape less, with a disheveled mane and reddened eyes from both her tears and her drink. Patches of her coat was matted with snow, with others blackened by soot, her neck and chin were darker than the rest of her body due to how her costume had been ripped in several places, exposing her to the embers. Overall, Trixie looked horrible, her eyes sunken by sleepless nights and her body shrunken by rampant hunger. Shining took note, having ignored the signs before, and he only looked on with more pity. “I know you're Mare-Do-Well,” Shining said softly. Trixie’s expression didn't change in the slightest. She didn't care. “Are you here to arrest me then, Marshal?” She growled. “Here to lock me up? Get revenge? Prove to your sister you're worth her time?” Her eyes shone with tears. She threw her forelegs out. “We'll go ahead, your Grace! I'm right here! Take Trixie away!” Trixie convulsed, collapsing to the street in sobs and wails. “Just take her away…” She mumbled over and over, meek and solitude. Trixie felt as cold as the snow, and thought it a fitting place to lay down to rest. But a warmth overcame Trixie, a warmth she had not felt in a very long time. Soothing forelegs wrapped around her form, and for a moment Trixie felt afraid. She struggled slightly, unsure of what to do, but she couldn't sense any maliciousness or ill intent. It was just hooves, and they were holding Trixie. Trixie held Shining in return. Both ponies sat secluded in the street, ice crystals resting upon the two of them as they shared in the warm of each other. Shining did not know why he was prompted to do it, but it was all he could think of doing. Trixie had looked so cold, so alone, that all he could think of was to hold her steady. Everypony needs a helping hoof once in awhile, even Trixie and even Shining. They had both seen things in that building, they both had to live with the experience. But neither needed to suffer it alone. Trixie was not a menace, not a villain and certainly not the evil pony that Shining had initially hoped she was. She was worth his time, she was worth the world, and Shining would make sure she knew it. “You still offering that bourbon?” Shining asked with a smile. And with that, Trixie knew what it was like to laugh again. The drink was hot, itchy on his throat, but the effect was soothing and Shining did not wish for anything else. “How did you find me?” Trixie asked from her bed, laid upon it, her blanket half covering her to combat the chill of the air. Shining leaned his back against the wooden wall, the carpet soft against his flank. “I found this,” Shining said as he pulled the purple hat from his armour, Trixie leaning back at its revelation. “Magic leaves traces, and your hat’s practically glowing with it. It wasn't too difficult to lock onto your signature after that, you were only a little way down the road.” Trixie snorted. After bolting from the police station with her wagon in tow, she had quickly found herself too exhausted to pull her wagon any further. So she had simply collapsed into the street to wallow and sulk. Magic detection spells were only so useful, allowing you to follow a ‘trail’ so to speak of an individual’s own unique magical signature, but if Trixie had gotten any further than she had she doubted that Shining would have been able to pinpoint her so easily, that, and magic was fickle, signatures overlap and fade overtime, if not crime amongst unicorns would have been eradicated long ago. Just because Trixie wasn't very good at magic didn't mean she wasn't knowledgeable of it. “And why did you look for me?” Trixie asked as she took another swig of her opened and aging bottle. “Am I simply that alluring? Did you take a fancy to me?” Trixie drolled as she rolled onto her back, giddy in the head and shallow in thoughts. Shining frowned. “Of course not,” he groaned, before his eyes glazed over again and Trixie returned to her prior lying position. “I was worried about you.” Trixie did not believe him for a second, squinting a glare. “Of course you were, like you don't have more important things to worry about.” She held the bottle high again, relishing the taste as long as she was able. “What do you want, Shining Armor? You know who I am, you know everything you could possibly want to know about me. So I will ask you again, and try to tell the truth.” Trixie leaned forward and was practically shaking with aggravation. “Tell me what you want.” Shining relented, he knew his purpose here and he would not bluff his way around the issue. “I need your help.” He began wearily. “The police have been hit hard by the station fire and the Commissioner's taken all detectives off their cases until he can get a grip on things. At the moment nopony is looking for the arsonist.” Trixie’s neck twitched. “And what do you want Trixie to do about it.” “I want you to help me stop him.” “No.” “I know it's unorthodox but-” “No!” Trixie screamed, startling Shining from his seat. “I won't!” Trixie shouted again, crawling from her bed to the floor. “Trixie has had enough of this! Of fires and criminals and police and of you!” Trixie sat down, her forelegs pointing out as she expressed herself. “Trixie will not be a pawn any longer. She's… I'm done. It's over!” Shining was frantic as he replied. “But you're Mare-Do-Well! We can't just let this guy get away with-” “I'm nothing!” Trixie shakily exclaimed. “I'm not Mare-Do-Well, I was never Mare-Do-Well, it was just supposed to be an act! A power play, a publicity stunt. I was using Mare-Do-Well to win back my reputation! That's all it was, that's all it ever was. I was never her!” Shining had no opportunity to retort, as Trixie continued to yell. “I'm not even The Great and Powerful Trixie! I'm not great or powerful, I don't have it- I never had it! All my life I thought I was, I thought I could be. But it was a lie, I'm a lie!” Her breaths was quick and short, her eyes leaking and her chest puffing out as she inhaled. “A lie… Just like all of them always said.” Shining tried to smooth her, holding out his forelegs in concern. “That's not true!” He pleaded. “You're not a lie, you're better than you think you-” “-are. Better than you think you are, I've heard it before, we've all heard it before. It's just another lie on top of all the other ones, to convince us that we're good enough, that we matter!” Trixie heaved, her voice breaking. “For a while it worked, for awhile I believed it. But I grew up, I lived and I saw but it took me this long to realise it. It was all pointless! Everything! My life, my career, Twilight Sparkle, Mare-Do-Well! It was all for nothing!” “No it wasn't!” Shining barked as he stood up. “That is not true, that is not who you are!” “Oh, and you know me so well don't you, Armor. The whole day you've known who I am.” She trembled out in a fury. “I know this.” Shining spoke in a sudden hushed tone. “I know that I was wrong about you, about Mare-Do-Well, about everything! I know it, I saw it!” Trixie gave a sharp sigh. “You saw a pretender. The real Trixie-” “The real Trixie stood up for herself when her honor was questioned. The real Trixie ran into a burning building to save her friend. The real Trixie worked for over a year to get back on top and get back at the pony who she felt had wronged her. A pretender doesn't dress up as a hero then go on to do everything being a hero entails. They would fake it, they would lie!” Trixie grew silent, and Shining pressed his advantage. “Did anything I just said sound like a lie to you, Trixie?” She looked away, shivering, but not from the cold. Shining debated whether he should approach her again. The situation was delicate, as was Trixie. “I almost died.” Shining said nothing, but Trixie was still looking away. She could not let him see her like this, she had exposed herself to him so much already. “When I fell, I thought I was done for. Then Apple Pie was almost- We were almost too late. The fire was growing, I needed to run. I always run, running is easy. Just… Leave everything behind, find some place else, start some place new. Nopony ever notices, they don't care enough to notice.” “That's not true.” Shining spoke yet again, his voice continuing to assure. “Ponies care, and you care about them. I heard that you ran into another building on fire the other day to look for strangers, that you saved a random stallion being mugged in an alley. You care about ponies you don't even know, Trixie! And what about the Apples, you went through me to get to Pie! They care about you and you care about them.” Trixie looked conflicted, her face taking several expressions at once as she attempted to rationalise Shining's argument. “That's not the point,” she shakily began. “They were nice to me, those ponies didn't do anything to deserve… To burn…” Trixie was unable to finish, her words failing to form in her throat. She sat with her neck falling forwards, her shoulders raising with a tremble. She could still smell the smoke. The sound of glass upon wood rung out as Shining placed his half-empty bottle down upon Trixie's desk. He walked to her, holding a hoof to her shoulder, a practice he had learned from his academy days. It had always been a soothing gesture. “I came to ask you to help me because I saw that you cared. I saw that you were willing to do whatever it took, regardless of the… Bureaucracy and how you would be affected.” “But I'm not-” “You are now.” Trixie felt something be placed into her hooves. She opened her eyes and looked down, the piercing eyes of Mare-Do-Well staring right back at her. “You are Mare-Do-Well. No mare dresses up in a costume and goes out of their way to help others at the risk of their own life just for attention. It wasn't a pretender, a fraud, a fake or whatever that fought me off and kicked in that window and saved those ponies. It was you. Trixie Lulamoon, The Great and Powerful, The Mysterious Mare-Do-Well. I need you're help. Will you help me?” Trixie had never remained so still in all her life. The mask laid frozen, enclosed in her hooves. As the seconds passed, Shining grew weary. The night was taking its toll, he was running out of options, his allies were spread thin and of the ones available to him he wasn't sure who was willing to step up to stop the arsonist. He needed to be stopped, he could not go unpunished, he could not be allowed to do this again, not to anypony else. Similar thoughts plagued Trixie, and her hoof gripped the mask tighter. “I'm not sure what help I'll be,” she stated from the floor, still failing to meet Shining in the eye. “I'm not exactly trained for this.” She shifted about. “Any moral objections to vigilantism?” Shining smirked, the tone of Trixie's question breaking away from her prior disposition. “I did once, but desperate times and all that.” Shining levitated the rest of the Mare-Do-Well costume high, the cape flapping from an invisible breeze. “I'd rather put my faith in somepony willing to do the right thing for whatever reason, then just wait it out and let the bad-guys get their way. Besides, who am I to punish the efforts of a concerned citizen helping out the law?” The low noise of chuckling made Shining's ears stand on end. “When you put it that way…” Her legs bent, and Trixie rose higher, higher than she ever had before. Trixie was not a fake, she had never been a fake. Fakes didn't do the things she had done, fakes didn't care whether or not they changed for the better. Fakes did not push back against a world that fought against them, a fake would sit and watch as they were swallowed whole by it. A fake and fraudulent Trixie would not have accepted Shining’s offer. “I… Trixie supposes we'd better get to work, Marshal Armor," Trixie grinned, flicking her mane back. Shining returned her smile. “If you insist, Mare-Do-Well.”