//------------------------------// // Chapter 6 (part three): The Pale Horse // Story: Actually, I'm Dead // by Magenta Cat //------------------------------// To say that Twilight Sparkle was in a panic would be like saying Luna’s descent into Nightmare Moon was the result of a small sisterly misunderstanding. Celestia had entrusted Twilight with looking after Trixie and this was the second time already the showmare and gotten out of her sight. Now Twilight was racing all over the town’s main street, half-galloping, half-teleporting, all in search of a missing mare who was probably lost and confused in a town where she didn’t belong. A mare whose past marked her with an scarlet seal, labeling her as a villain to be feared by others. Having searched up and down the street twice, Twilight was about to return to the library, figuring that Trixie may very well have sought refuge there instead of risking another encounter. Still, part of her couldn’t see the other unicorn accepting defeat that easily. “Trixie!” Twilight finally called out loud. “Over here, Sparkle.” Twilight whipped around in the direction of the voice, finally spotting Trixie leaning against a large maple tree. “There you are!” By her position and how she used the cape to follow the tree’s shadow, Twilight realized that she must have passed Trixie at least two times while searching for her. Twilight smiled, still amazed on how Trixie was able to pull off illusions while having her magic restrained. “I was worried after what happened with Rainbow back there and--” “What Rainbow Dash said is irrelevant. Trixie is made of a sterner stuff,” Trixie interrupted Twilight while separating herself from the tree’s shadows. “Trixie has spared with Equestria’s strongest mare alive and survived. By comparison, some unfounded harsh words from a single pony are no matter.” “But, with what Dash said, and you--” “Regardless what she said,” Trixie cut off Twilight again, “Trixie is fully aware of who she is and where she comes from, even if the recent past speaks with more force than the older one.” She turned and pointed her left hoof at the colorfully ornate building down the street. “Trixie believes that was the next place on your list?” Twilight followed Trixie’s hoof. “Yes!” she exclaimed triumphantly, instantly recognizing the building. “Oh, I’m glad that you’re still willing to go ahead with meeting my friends, given what has--” “In the past already,” Trixie coldly told Twilight as she trotted off. “What’s important is the here and now. Right now Trixie wishes to get somewhere inside; this cloak is becoming stifling in the sun.” She stopped several paces from fellow unicorn and beckoned with a nod. “Come on, Trixie will allow you to guide her to our next destination.” Reassured by Trixie’s renewed enthusiasm, Twilight gladly took the lead and escorted them to the circular building adorned as a carousel that was their next destination. There was a small chime from the bell above the door as the pair entered. “Welcome to Carousel Boutique.” Rarity turned from where she was working restocking a rack of clothing. “Where everything is chic, unique, and--” Rarity stopped with a squeak when she got a good look at the ponies that had just entered her shop. Trixie couldn't help her ears going back and body wilting at the prospect of enduring another round of verbal condemnation at the hooves of Sparkle's friends. She’d been willing to give her fellow unicorn one more chance to show that those friends would accept and possibly forgive her, but this really was proving to be too much. Grimacing, she considered pulling back her hood, hoping that maybe she’d get lucky and this one would faint like she had the day before. “Oh no, no!” exclaimed the white unicorn as she strode over to her counterparts. “I cannot allow an abomination like that in my shop!” Trixie was about to bite out a sharp retort when she felt her cloak enveloped in a pale blue aura of magic and lifted up, covering her muzzle and preventing her from speaking. Silently cursing the restraining ring on her horn, she struggled as her protective garment was stripped off her. “Oh my, no. This won't do at all, darling,” Rarity muttered to herself as she folded up Trixie's tattered black cloak. “We must get you into something more fitting, I insist. This way.” Without another word, she turned tail and trotted towards the dressing room at the back. Twilight followed but Trixie remained rooted in place. “Hold on, Trixie is lost! What’s going on here?” Rarity turned back, an abashed expression on her face. “What’s going on is that... I wish to apologize for yesterday. At the hospital,” she explained, cringing at the memory. “It was something that we came with last night on the way home,” Twilight added. “Rarity and I felt that perhaps a new outfit would help you feel like a new mare. Or at least not draw attention the way your old cloak might. Not that we had any idea you’d still be wearing it, mind you.” Twilight cringed on her own and then turned a frown to Rarity. “Nor did we plan on quite that dramatic a greeting when you arrived.” “What can I say, darling?” Rarity replied with a self-deprecating grin. “Bad fashion affects me almost as much as the sight of dirt or grime.” Trixie just gaped at the two friends. Of all the wild instances of mistreatment she had experienced today, nothing could have prepared her for this. Still, it was clear from Twilight’s demeanor and the look on Rarity’s face that the white unicorn was offering Trixie something she had only received from one other pony in a long time; compassion. “You don’t have to do that,” Trixie said, dropping head as he ears wilted down and back. “After all those pennants and banners Trixie had you sewing the other day, you don’t owe Trixie anything.” Rarity hummed. “This is true, but I still feel I should do something. When I first saw you in your room, I overreacted. It was very… uncouth. It was all the blood, you see.” A shiver ran down Rarity’s spine and out through her tail. “What I’m trying to say, is that I’m sorry for that.” She gestured to the fitting room. “This is the best way I know how. After seeing you going around in such rags, I know that it’s the right decision.” A soft nudge from Twilight brought Trixie’s mind back to the surface. “Given the circumstances,” she finally said, “Trixie supposes she can forgive that.” She chuckled a little at the absurdity of the whole situation. “Trixie did look like quite the horror show then. At least now she’s clean, even if all her other problems are still present.” “Oh, darling, you shouldn’t talk about yourself like that.” Rarity turned for a moment to leave Trixie’s cape in a pile of discarded fabric. When she looked back, Trixie’s expression was still of doubt. “Come on. I just need to get your measurements and then we can get to work discussing colors and patterns.” Trixie tried to snort but failed to make any noise as she sauntered into the dressing room and up on the platform at its center. “What need has a walking corpse of color and patterns? Frankly those old rags suit Trixie’s current status just fine.” “Even the dead deserve dignity,” said Rarity solemnly. She shared Trixie’s gaze without faltering to make sure the showmare understood, then moved to the side and used her magic to pull over a measuring tape. “Besides, what was your excuse for wearing that thing before?” “Excuse Trixie?” the azure unicorn exclaimed, caught off guard once again. Might this Rarity’s game, to joke and demean her all under the guise of generosity? “Well... it just that I missed your original outfit.” Rarity slid the tape measure along Trixie’s back to her tail and noted the measurement. She quickly did the same for her shoulders and hips. “It suited you quite well. There was a certain style to it; a panache.” “Whatever did happened to it?” asked Twilight from the cushion at the side where she had sat down. “It’s probably under an Ursa’s paw,” Trixie deadpanned back at her. “Or at least it was, the last time Trixie saw it.” Looking down, she provided her left hoof to Rarity to measure. “Oh, I…” Rarity hesitated. She was about to measure the offered limb when something caught her eye. It was the still scar in Trixie’s foreleg, where the iv had torn out the night before. Rarity repressed a shudder and continued to do her work. “I’m sorry to hear that. Purple actually suited you quite well, or at least better than black.” Choosing not to respond, Trixie let an uncomfortable silence settle over the room as Rarity continued to work. “It’s funny, you know,” Trixie said some minutes later after staring at herself in one of the room’s many full-length mirrors. “There was a time, in Manehattan a few years ago, when Trixie got a job entertaining ponies outside one of the fashion shows there.” She gave the mirror a lopsided smile. “Some of the models there would die to have Trixie's figure now.” Trixie chuckled darkly before lowering her head. “That is...that’s probably sadly true,” Rarity commented, being well familiar with the lengths models would go to to achieve that tall, slim unicorn look that was deemed so desirable. She rolled up her tape and floated it back to her work bench before taking her notes in hoof. “Now that this is done girls, let us get more comfortable in the parlor and discuss what we can do for you going forward.” Twilight claimed one of the chairs, Trixie choosing to lie upon the sofa. Rarity joined them shortly, bearing a silver tray balanced over her back, containing some hay sandwiches, a plate with cookies, three cups and a still steaming porcelain teapot. “Would you like some tea, darlings?” Rarity asked Trixie while filling Twilight’s cup. “Perhaps some snacks?” She levitated the plate with the cookies closer to Trixie. The pale azure unicorn just gave a muttered refusal as she settled down on her forelegs and wrapped her tail around her hind legs. Her ears folded back as she look away from the table. “Is there something wrong?” Twilight asked, concern clear in her voice. “You didn’t have breakfast today either.” Still looking away, Trixie responded, “Before leaving the hospital, Trixie had to have her stomach pumped. The doctors found that the food in it was not digesting but rotting.” Trixie went on to explain that since the necroplasm was taking care of any energy need, virtually all of Trixie’s internal organs didn’t need to and were no longer functioning. “The whole ordeal put Trixie in quite the foul mood this morning.” The other two unicorns in the room both wore expressions of guilt, embarrassment, and queasiness. “Tell me something,” said Rarity as she set down her cup and tried to change the subject. “That old outfit of yours; did you make it yourself or commission it?” A smile twitched Trixie’s lips. “Like all Trixie’s best works, it was of her own devising.” She lifted her head from her legs. “Still, she won’t deny there were ponies who influenced her. Some of Trixie’s masters taught her the value of presentation. In the case of her outfit, the world’s greatest super-escape artist helped Trixie to design it.” An involuntarily smile had crept over her lips at the memory. “Darling, tell me more.” Rarity was smiling, too, finally glad to have moved on to something that Trixie appeared to find a more pleasant topic. “Trixie supposes she can indulge you. As repayment, of course.” “Of course,” Rarity demurred, giving only the smallest and most ladylike of snorts to indicate a polite joke. “Well, it was really more of a group effort. You see, Trixie’s amazing abilities are the result of different masters taking her under their wings.” Twilight smiled, seeing Trixie back in storyteller mode. “At least four of Trixie’s masters made a point of how important was to send the right message through personal presentation, and since three of them were into show business, they helped Trixie to design the last outfit she should ever wear.” “So, those ponies were famous too?” Rarity couldn’t help but ask. “Oh yes, they definitely were.” Trixie pointed a hoof to the ceiling. “They were up there, stars in the sky. Living legends in their lifetime.” Rarity was about to say ‘tell me more’ but it wasn’t necessary. “The first one was the greatest super-escape artist to ever live. He could pretty much pick Canterlot Palace’s best locks with only a writing plume.” She laughed. “And frequently did, if all the items he possessed truly were Celestia’s personal effects.” “Wait,” Twilight interrupted, “are you talking about Scot Free?” She remembered the name from when she was a foal and her father once commented about a pony who proclaimed to be able to enter and leave the palace at will, challenging the guards and even the princess to stop him. “The very same,” Trixie replied with an enthusiastic grin. “He was like a father to Trixie, and even taught her some of his moves.” She put a hoof over her chest, first touching the Alicorn Amulet, but then slipping it to the right. “He gave Trixie the idea of wearing a cape.” “Amazing.” Without Twilight or Trixie noticing, Rarity’s magic was taking all kind of notes on the pad besides her. “So, he wore the same combination of hat and cape?” “No!” Trixie said aghast, as if Rarity suggested she jump off of a cliff. “No, not at all. Trixie would never steal another pony’s act, much less her mentor’s!” Rarity flinched at the forcefulness of Trixie’s response but quickly recognized it as part of the act. Trixie didn’t seem to notice as she continued. “While Scot Free did wear a green cape, it was of a much shorter cut than Trixie’s grand flowing robes.” Trixie chuckled at the memory. “Only once did Trixie dare ask him how he managed to hide most of his equipment under there. She never fully understood how he could even move with all of it, let alone where he put it.” “I see,” Rarity’s quill stopped midair over the notepad.“So, you said three more of your mentors influenced your magician’s attire?” “Indeed, they did,” Trixie simply said, lost a little in her memories. It took a cough from Twilight to snap her out of it. “Oh, right, Trixie was telling a story.” She shook her head, as if to reorient herself. “Now, the cape came from Scot Free and his wife, Equestria’s strongest mare, Battle Axe the She-Warrior. Too bad their glory days passed long ago. They alone could have flipped this town in a single presentation. In her case, quite literally.” “And the hat?” Rarity prompted. “Oh, that is a special one,” Trixie said with a glimmer in her eye. “Trixie is pretty sure that both of you have heard of her, since she was on the scene more recently.” Rising up from her spot in the couch, Trixie started to pace around the room as if it were a stage. “She was magic and illusion incarnate. In fact, before Trixie even knew about her own magnificent legacy, this mare was renowned as the greatest illusionist of her generation, a title inherited from Trixie’s own mother. Trixie is willing to bet anything that you two know of her, for she once made the entire city of Canterlot...” Twilight and Rarity were in the couch’s edge, as Trixie put her fore hooves together before her muzzle. “Raeppasid!” She opened her hooves as if freeing an invisible bird. Trixie didn’t need to say more. While Scot Free used to be part of a generation before theirs, the pony Trixie was talking about was fairly known worldwide, even today. Reverse Mirror was an illusionist best known for combining all kind of tricks and spells in her acts, and mostly for always naming her acts with backwards words as ‘epacse elbissopmi’ for an escapism number or ‘drac eht dnif’ for a simpler cards trick. “Yes, the one and only.” Trixie was still standing proudly in front of them. “She was a petite mare and always had this top hat with her, as a way to look taller for the audience, and Trixie decided to add something like that too.” Trixie’s smile, which had been in her face the whole time, suddenly faded away. “But that was a lifetime ago.” She closed her eyes, falling back on her four hooves. Twilight frowned in worry, as she recognized the exact same words and gestures with which Trixie finished her last tale back in Sweet Apple Acres. She wanted to say something, anything to stop Trixie from falling back in depression again, but she didn’t know what to say. “Oh, darling.” To Twilight’s relief, Rarity did seem to know better. “I didn’t know that those meant that much to you.” “The-they reminded me of better times,” Trixie said as she retreated to the couch once more. “When Trixie wasn’t always a one pony show. That she used to have something close to a family.” She tried to swallow, but once again her body refused to function like a living one. Bowing her head towards her hooves as her ears and expression drooped, the gaunt unicorn muttered, “Trixie is-- I’m sorry. I should not bother you with my personal tragedies.” “Oh no, is not a bother.” Rarity moved closer, placing her hoof gently on Trixie’s chin and lifting her gaze. “Darling, to me, helping a pony in need is a privilege, even if it only by listening them.” She smiled at Trixie, who couldn’t comprehend this pony’s generosity. “But Trixie did such horrible things, how could even think about forgiving her-- me?” “Because that’s the only way we can go on with our lives,” Rarity replied. The rest of the afternoon was more calm. Recognizing the artist in each other, Rarity and Trixie spent a good couple of hours talking (or rambling, as Twilight would describe it) about clothes designs and stage images, discussing what combination of what elements were more effective to give the right message. Twilight tried to enter the conversation too, but each time she gave an opinion, it only fueled their use of terms that were all but alien to her, like ‘the semiotic of the design’ or measuring colors in grades and temperature or how the combination of red and black ‘should be banned forever’. Finally resigning herself to the fact that the conversation was well out of her league, Twilight settled back and focused on a series of magical brain teasers. It was something she had done ever since magic school, when her attempts to socialize with the other foals inevitably failed. She always told herself and others it was just a way to stay sharp with her talent. The other mares in the room were so engrossed in their conversation they never noticed when she would sneak the occasional snack off the plate in the middle of the room, munching unconsciously on the various sandwiches and biscuits there. Quietly, she let them have it, her full attention fixated into the closest clock available, which was a lovely combination of clock and music box, resting in her living room’s coffee table. She had just gotten through another set of exercises when she finally realized what the hands on that clock showed and how late it had grown. “I’m sorry, girls,” she said, interrupting, “but, Trixie, we have one more appointment on our list today.” Trixie attempted a dramatic sigh and didn’t seem to notice when it didn’t quite come out right. “If Trixie’s presence is required elsewhere, she supposes she will have to cut this visit short.” She turned back to Rarity. “Another time then?” “Certainly,” Rarity replied with a beaming smile as she got off her chair. Before letting her guests leave, Rarity insisted that Trixie take a loaner cloak to replace her battered black one. There was some debate between the two mares as to which would work better, and in the end a bright pink cloak with a hood edged in white trim was settled on. The color wasn’t ideal with Trixie’s pale azure coat, but it was the only one in the shop with the length and coverage that she insisted on. Rarity was seeing them out the door when Trixie stopped. “I want to thank you for this afternoon, Rarity. For the first time in a very long time, I feel truly... equine.” “You are quite welcome, darling,” the white unicorn replied with a soft smile. “I firmly believe that any customer who comes through my doors deserves to leave feeling as beautiful as they truly are. If you’re indeed willing to work at correcting past misdeeds, then I am honored to see you off at the start of your journey and help in any way that I can.” For the first time that day, Trixie was wearing a genuine smile as Twilight literally dragged her outside and off to their next appointment. Another hour passed while Rarity was ordering the notes from her conversation with Trixie. Usually, in order to make a personal set of clothes like this one, she wanted to know very well the pony who would wear them. As the fashionista reviewed her own notes on the previous conversation, she realized how little she actually knew about Trixie the mare. Still, she went to the drawing board. The information she managed to gather wasn’t complete but it was good enough to start and Rarity knew she had to do something to help a pony in trouble, even if it was just a little gesture like giving her something to wear. To begin, she drew a quick outline of Trixie’s body type; a mare in her late twenties, of regular stature and length but with an unhealthy weight. Rarity took a moment to admire again the silhouette, once more confirming that Trixie was indeed right about some models, and how the younger ones abused their bodies only to look thin. She shook her head, trying to go back to the design. Rarity looked at the notepad once again, reading one by one the notes she wrote from her ‘interview’ with Trixie and making small notations on the page. -Use new cloth, as resistant as possible. -Needs a vivid color. Purple? New color for new mare? Can’t be dull. -Must transmit confidence, but not shout it out loud. -Try to evoke the previous one. DON’T use real life constellations. -Look for escape artists outfits. -Look for illusionists outfits. -Two pieces; Hat or other headgear. -Cold colors to match coat? -Has to cover her effectively; add gloves for forehooves. Possibly socks? -Mask? Rarity let the quill go and sighed, looking at the ceiling and then back at the list. Sure, Trixie never gave her all the details, but she definitely had an eye for style. There was also a trust that such a lack of detail implied; she trusted Rarity to be professional enough to able to fill in the blanks. She smiled. There was enough to start working with. She took the quill again and started to expand the sketch. If Ponyville could keep its weirdness magnet off for the rest of the afternoon, she could even have it ready by the time she met Trixie again at Pinkie’s party. The basic outlines done with, she just needed some ideas to fill them. Setting her glasses on the table, she stood and went over to the shelf where she kept her reference albums. They had all been compiled over the years from various magazine and newspaper clipping and were frequent assistance in jumpstarting her imagination when she got stuck on a design. She reached out with her magic for one with magical themes and pulled it off the shelf. “Now, let’s see what you might be able to suggest...”