//------------------------------// // The Great and Powerful Trixie contemplates // Story: Trixie and the Mirror // by Mightyfinemorning //------------------------------// Her matter was settled-at least partially. Trixie now knew how it had all happened. Trixie dreamed-Trixie outside the mirror dreamed. It was Trixie outside the mirror who was dreaming now. She had been dreaming the dream of Trixie, but at last she was dreaming her own, dreaming the dream of Trixie outside the mirror. Trixie inside the mirror might have different dream; only Trixie inside the mirror could tell what her dream was. It was simple. She cast the mirror magic because she was jealous. Or maybe not. Simple or not, how could she tell? Could her act be defined as one single term? It could not be. The language of magic was different from the language of the ponykind; translation was needed, sometimes, always, or hardly at all. Which of the three, Trixie could not tell, or she could tell, or she simply had no idea what to choose. How was she so proficient at magic then? Magic of trickery-was she tricking herself as well? It could not be. The Great and Powerful Trixie could never be tricked. The illusionist was not to be tempered with her own art. She could look into the mirror and only see her own reflection. She could understand the chaos, thus not know or understand anything at all, then comprehending the mysteries of the world, like a fool, like a scholar. Somewhere between the two, there was Trixie, believing she knew, or not knew, of the world she lived in. The magic was done, she thought. Putting all her mind’s working aside, all she had to do was just take one step back and undo her magic. Right? No, it could not be that easy. Reversing magic was not a simple process, especially for her kind of magic. The magic which spawned trickeries and lies, her sort was bound to be complex like disheveled mess were she to describe it, an object that would require both admirable patience and great intelligence (a quick wit would make the task much better) to comprehend even its tiniest bit. Or maybe it was like a thread of unending loops which seemed to stretch out in an infinite way, made possible only by her ability to weave non-existent images she gave a false life. Now how could she know that she took one step? In fact, she could have taken two steps; or two steps front and then three steps back. The possibilities were simply endless, as the magic of the Great and Powerful Trixie knew-or at least Trixie herself pretended to-had no bounds. True, the fact that she did something remained. She took a step or few steps-she took a certain amount of step; that was for sure. Sadly, and unfortunately, no. Trixie smiled, admiring her amazing practice of instilling distortion upon distortion, building lies upon lies, and ultimately countering falseness with more falseness. Sometimes with a bit of truth, or facts that happened to be much nearer to the truth rather than falseness, she cast her magic. Trixie could say she never took a step, but the magic somehow happened and she seemed to have moved certain distance-distance encompassing both physical and metaphorical concepts. The idea was actually quite simple-suppose she did not took a step back, but instead ran forward or walked backwards; such silly ideas could actually happen, for her magic was mostly concerned with illusions. They were made to look real, and sometimes they could be indeed real, but merely guising under the term ‘illusion.’ What had really happened, even that fact could be insignificant, as she understood how to decorate blend fantasy into lifelike reality. So if she could not identify what she really did, how was she going to undo her magic? Trixie who was inside the mirror, who used to be outside the mirror, who was the Great and Powerful Trixie, contemplated on the matter with great consideration, carefully analyzing what tactic she could take. It was her magic, and she knew it best-or she thought she knew it, but believing could well become reality in some cases-the possibility was definitely real. Truths were prone to be mixed with half-truths and exorbitant lies. They attracted many others, sending open invitations to all. And Trixie had to carefully select what was indeed the true original, of how it really happened. What was real, she asked and asked, asked constantly to confirm where she really was. There never was a straight path for her. Always she wandered inside the maze or a straight path that was bound to be crooked and twisted, leading her to the grand labyrinth of her mind, or something entirely else of which she expected by never expecting it. The question to her answer was singular-singular as there was one answer. That fact was much obvious. She only asked one question: “What is reality?” Trixie expected-and knew-that there was one answer. If she asked multiple questions, then the answer could be singular or plural. But that very question of reality, it was singular. And thus, the answer she would come up with was bound to be singular. But of its contents, it could be plural. Or rather, it was always plural. Then her answer, her answer was one, but contained many things that were bound to be multiple, of being plural in nature, so many possibilities compressed into one single unity. Gladly, this time, there was one answer, being clearly singular in many aspects. Or one answer holding many explanations. Trixie knew she was still in a dream. Just before she freely and openly confessed herself-in her own way, like the Great and Powerful Trixie above the stage as the grand magician, putting her marvelous show on display, inspiring the audiences with awe and great respect for her. Pulling of her trick she loved the awestruck expression of the neighsayers who previously had laughed off at her tricks-just wait till they get a real sense of Trixie magic, she would say to herself. This time there was nopony watching with awe at her clever maneuver. It was sad, but she had more immediate issues to solve, such as getting back to her place. She talked to her own self-a funny idea, but if she was in a dream, what could stop her from having a sincere deep talk with Trixie who encompassed all Trixies in different realities, alternative worlds which never existed before till she recognized them? The mirror she saw and inside it she saw Trixie. She also saw an opportunity. Driven by her emotions she committed the act, and now she was here, trying to mend the problem of which she had caused it all. She was the one to blame. It was a very sad fact she had to face. Even then she still saw Trixie. Trixie smiled bitterly. Seldom did mirror really show one’s own reflection, for one could see many things inside the mirror but not her own self. But Trixie saw herself in the mirror. A very rare incident it was, truly marvelous-just how many ponies could claim to see their own reflection in the mirror, when they felt such things could not happen? How many knew themselves so well that they could freely wander around the maze produced by their inner minds’ working? Angry, sad, or depressed-in such state, their minds affected by the violent waves caused by certain feelings, they could well be seeing the spirit of the eternal night herself; what they saw could be real, or could not be, and the boundary between the two could well lose meanings. But she knew-Trixie knew-where to thread. So familiar with all the paths leading to one and nowhere, of roads linked nowhere, everywhere; the Great and Powerful Trixie carefully, but efficiently, searched the way she wanted to take, and she took that path, and it was all good. She was doing her usual process: she had to look back, and to review her course of action. Not very pleasant, but the list of must to-dos were often of that nature. Back then, Trixie was, albeit temporarily, not in her proper state. She had to acknowledge it. After coming back at the scene, discovering the mirror and then running away unable to do anything, inside the shabby cottage she was kept reminded of her failures. In such situation, she knew all it took was just one little nudge. For no matter how a pony managed to keep herself well in trying situations, an expected unexpected push could trigger unforeseen events. The time was perfect for a strange incident to happen; she looked at the mirror while being reminded of her failures. A stone was thrown into the pool of her mind, and the rippling waves carried off the energy within a moment shorter than the shortest fraction of time. Nevertheless even tiniest amount was enough to cause major disturbances. Yes, she knew it, of how the great big was made as the tiny smalls were gathered, of how seemingly small insignificant factors allowing fundamental change to happen. Indeed, the condition was ripe for trouble at that very moment. But something else also happened. At first she did not give it much attention, brooding over her failures, but now she realized when she saw the mirror the usual pattern did not apply to her. Inside the mirror Trixie saw Trixie with the lavender unicorn-just why did she think it would be better for her to be in such place? She only saw her own image in a completely different situation. It was quick and efficient, not leaving much trace. The very instant she saw the mirror, at that night, her magic already began to work. So subtle, but ever so present, like a steady flow of stream that nopony ever took notice of, until one looked very close. A mirror was just a mirror. No magical mirror for Trixie, at least not the mirror which was still in her cottage. Like mirror the mirror magic was made to show, to show anything but true reflection. Trixie had always believed that what one saw inside the mirror at troubled times could well be part of mirror magic. Not casted voluntarily, but still done, like magic it was supposed to be, producing surprising results, making unbelievable things really happen. The magic had indeed worked, for as she looked at the mirror she did see Trixie, and that put her in an unexpected course, an anomaly that was out of the ordinary. Trixie in Trixie’s place, that could have been tempting, her voice telling it could work. Nopony and nothing cajoled her but Trixie herself. Maybe the fact that she was indeed Trixie was enough for her to carry out the plan, for Trixie was so Great and Powerful. There could be no doubt. She did the mirror magic, and it did not fail her. And Trixie was inside the old changing room of Canterlot, or she thought so, while her thinking gradually caught up with her changed situation. But wait. There were unresolved issues still. At first she was really Trixie-that is, Trixie inside the mirror. She talked with the lavender unicorn as if she knew was really her close friend. She really believed that she was Trixie inside the mirror. Then how come she knew something was wrong? Suddenly she knew she was originally Trixie outside the mirror. But how? She briefly scanned her memory. Memory of Trixie outside the mirror, for she was Trixie, but she was especially Trixie outside the mirror; one outside the mirror started it all, it was in a way her tale, her story, as somepony would say if she happened to hear Trixie herself talking about this incident later. And thus she reviewed what had happened seen from Trixie outside the mirror. So she was inside the chamber, satisfied with her dress. Even looking at Twilight Sparkle, the lavender unicorn who outshined the ‘supposedly’ Great and Powerful Trixie and put her skills to shame, did not instantly make her fly into shouting hateful speech. Instead she sincerely greeted the lavender unicorn, without any doubts or confusion, not knowing how to act but to hide her true feelings. Clearly, at the early stage of the incident she was Trixie, Trixie inside the mirror. Mirror magic itself was not enough. However great her desperation was, she could not have just made her so readily fit into the world inside the mirror. Trixie inside the mirror, while being Trixie, had her own standards. Different places meant different things in general. Yes, Trixie knows that. She thought. Trixie inside the mirror was so unlike herself, being friend with the bearers. She even defeated Nightmare Moon and Discord; Trixie had to admit the huge difference between her and Trixie inside the mirror. Then this should not have happened at all, for she knew changing places meant nothing, as long as she was still her own self. The Great and Powerful Trixie-she proudly bore the title, making sure that anypony who came at her magic show would clearly remember her as such. When she was practicing magic in her early years, she felt it was beneficial, actually necessary. For the magic shows it could not hurt to boast as much as one could. She entertained her crowd with lies and deceptions, or in more elaborate words tricks and skills. But to do so, she had to know how to bend the actual reality in the first place-hence the phrase, mastery before manipulation, clarification before control. Even for that she could pretend she knew it all, but even that required great skill. So she thought and thought, like a traveler who carefully made his way inside the grand maze. She did not have the map. It was meaningless anyway. The walls could shift in an instant, changing the very pattern of the labyrinth. Dead ends could lead to multiple routes. Entrances and exits were multiple, and sometimes non-existent at all. But she was a magician, and lies and trickeries and illusions were her specialties. She often played around with them, making sure to present a good show to the audience. But she was to concentrate on more immediate issues, for she was still figuring out what had really happened. Trixie looked at the mirror. She saw Trixie, and she cast the spell, and Trixie was in Trixie’s place. She had come to the conclusion. It was nearly perfect, with only few of the inconsistencies with her real experiences. The reason-by now she thought it more than thousand times-was that she was jealous. Sadly, she lost her control for the time being. It was her grave mistake. A grave mistake that could be mended though; the Great and Powerful Trixie could always be Greater and more Powerful. Mistakes from the past she remembered quite a few. When she was about to perform her first magic show, back at the stage curtain, she took a deep breath as she stepped in front of few audiences that were looking at her with bored faces. She was to impress them first, this somewhat meager unenthusiastic guests. And she succeeded. Her first show went so smoothly, then her next one, then next-and it followed the typical cliché way, she making huge bloopers after she had gained a considerable amount of fame. First time failures-that could be amended easily. But missing a step after gaining attention a bit, that was often very fatal. While she was working her way through truly becoming the Great and Powerful Trixie, once, twice, or multiples, or sometimes, or always (at least Trixie thought so), behind the stage, staring at the mirror Trixie sighed, trying to control her mind which was screaming everything was over. No. She said firmly. Or she thought she said. She probably spoke without a voice. No. Trixie is not perfect, and she does not think she will ever reach that point. But she was Great, and she was Powerful. The Great and Powerful Trixie. Such things she would say to herself, whisper during her sleep, mutter when she looked at the mirror and saw only her reflection. Trixie was Trixie, she was Trixie and she was going to be Trixie no matter what. “So then, what could have caused the Great and Powerful Trixie not to recognize her own self in the first place?” She asked. And she had to find the answer for herself-of course there was not any voice but her own who could reply back. She reflected back upon her memories, now accessing the deeper parts, which was hidden from her till now. And she did not notice the concealment at all. How? Mirror magic was not enough. The thought had been growing upon her mind-she was merely mulling it over, thinking whether her logic was right. There were many magic that involved mirrors. Simple kinds involved distorting the images to a certain level. More advanced magic affected not the image, but rather what really was inside the mirror. The Great and Powerful Trixie used one of the highest orders: swapping places with one’s mirror-self. How? One might ask to her. Mirror-self, what was it? She once asked her mentor about the subject. It made no sense. Hardly logical, her hours of consternation did not enlighten her on the matter. How come, she asked to him, that what I saw in the mirror was another reality? Could there be world inside the mirror in the first place? We may well live inside the mirror, he said, and laughed. At least to those that are inside the mirror of our world. To us they must be living inside the mirror, don’t you think so? There were multiple realities, but only one reality of which she recognized. Like how there were Trixie both inside and outside the mirror, ultimately being the concept of ‘Trixie’ of which every Trixie inside or outside the mirror believed her to be. Now she was Trixie outside the mirror-Trixie who thought that she was outside the mirror and then looked into the mirror. But for Trixie inside the mirror, she was the one who was outside the mirror in the first place. The idea was confusing, but she thought she could somehow understand it. She looked from her own perspective, of Trixie outside the mirror-and thus she found herself in Trixie’s place. That Trixie, she thought-and because she thought, so it was done-was inside the mirror. “Why, yes. The mirror magic part Trixie already knows. But there was definitely something else. Like memory spells.” Trixie whispered. “You know, those devilish tricks that can instantly turn a lover’s heart cold by making him forget whom he really desired for. Who loved who? He may never know. Trixie is fully aware of the danger it poses. But she was fairly desperate at that time. When one feels so devastated one may as well as take the path she never considered before.” Trixie laughed bitterly. “Why, Trixie did cast that magic too. Clever, am I not right?” Nevertheless the fact she was inside her dream tracking back at her supposedly non-existing memory told her that the plan did not work smoothly as it should have been. In the end she could have said that it was actually better for her-but also very bitter too, for she had to remember her depressed state back then and was now trying to reconstruct her past actions, seeking what she really did in her dream. If concentrated hard enough, there was no reason why she should not be able to alter one’s memory a little. And she already knew one could force oneself to forget certain unpleasant memories. Forget what was bad, remember only the good. Or rather, believe one’s memory had nothing to do with the unpleasantness. To deceive, and thus to believe; Trixie herself while looking at the mirror and letting her magic work must have known the same, therefore applying the wisdom unsparingly, making her fit for her role as Trixie inside the mirror, believing something she never experienced before. It was not entirely successful. Actually, very close to failure. The trick lasted no more than a few minute. Not even a single day had passed before she realized she was really not who she was, but was made-up image of her own wish, though the image itself was real. Trixie pretend to be Trixie, borrowing from the real. Still, she was Trixie in the end, Trixie outside the mirror. “Trixie is Great and Powerful.” She said. “I am Trixie, the most powerful magician over all Equestrian lands.” She said with clear voice, not shouting, buy pronouncing each syllables slowly and very accurately, making sure her words were heard. There was nopony here except her. Right now her dream had no physical space, not even made-up ones conjured by her imagination, as only her mind recognized her current ethereal state inside her dream. But if it was her dream, then she could control it-to some degree. Like how she made the images of two evil creatures to disappear. She was indeed the Great and Powerful Trixie, and as she often treaded her thread of thoughts and walked inside the maze made by her complicated thoughts, she grasped the concept of her dream and attempted to manipulate it so that she might see her own self. How? She asked herself, still a bit amazed after all the training she had gone through. It is expected of the Great and Powerful Trixie, and thus Trixie can do it. If she is indeed Great and Powerful, this should be no such a great feat, but minor chores that can be done with relative ease. She thought. And her thoughts she thought it was good, thus answering her curiosity. She saw Trixie. And that Trixie was looking like her. Or rather it was indeed her, her image reflected in the mirror. In the formless void there was a mirror. Like the featureless mirror she once looked at that night. And in the mirror she saw Trixie. Trixie who was inside the mirror was not wearing purple-colored dress but Trixie’s own costume. Pointed hat with blue cape, bound to her body by a blue sapphire brooch. Trixie did not smile, but made a small grin, because she who was looking at the mirror grinned. “Looking at the mirror, I see Trixie outside the mirror.” “So, how did she not realize this earlier? That she was not Trixie inside the mirror?” “Do you not know? Trixie should know that. I knew it from the start. It was expected, as I know Trixie knows, she has known it all along, she would have known it. It occurred to me, to Trixie naturally, my thought working smoothly well.” She could not stop There was the dividing line, though she did not immediately find out that something was inherently wrong like she should have been. Still, by natural process of her logic it was to be expected of her. Ursa Major; only the mention of the star-bear, the celestial monstrosity did enable Trixie to immediately recognize her folly, of attempting vainly to forget about her mistake, the fatal error she had caused. How could she forget the incident? She remembered many things-retrieving from her everlasting flow of memory; she was bound to come across that piece of information. And then, her shambles of low-grade lies would be exposed and then promptly vanished, for the trickery was not enough and lacked validity. Not real enough-at least not real enough for Trixie outside the mirror, for the reality of her vanquishing the star-bear did not belong to her. At least not for now. It could become her reality, the Great and Powerful Trixie one day in the future proudly proclaiming before the awestruck audience, retelling her tale of encountering the majestic beast. The possibility was certainly there. But not now. She muttered. Not now, it could happen-and if it could happen, she could make it happen, because she was the Great and Powerful Trixie. A most extraordinary situation, an unexpectedness that was certainly unexpected-wait, really? Really? But then again, was it not normal for her? To taste the bitterness of her defeat over and over again? Yet she was still the Great and Powerful Trixie, ever more so because she was able to maintain her posture. For Trixie, failure was not an option, but a common everyday incident lurking behind the corners to strike her down. She admitted-she had to admit, lest she not be so Great and Powerful-that she could not be ever so Great and Powerful. But the Great and Powerful Trixie, her title-what of it, her name, what of it, how to make the situation comprehendible? Still by acknowledging the fact she could be so Great and Powerful, or she thought she could achieve such position, and as she believed to be true it became reality, she could, Trixie could, she had to, Trixie had to, realize that she was in fact inside the mirror, ignoring her lowly tricks that certainly did no good. She did fall, fall ever so deep, but she was to rise again…right? She asked. “Yes.” She said. Trixie said. “I said that word, and my word becomes reality, or at least that’s how I believe it, and by believing it becomes my reality, or at least I believe to be such, hence ending up making my reality, fabricating the real world I live in, of Trixie outside the mirror.” “I took one step forward. Or maybe not. I moved-or did I? Nevertheless, the fact remains that Trixie outside the mirror now is inside the mirror. Suppose she took one step, Trixie did it, she did it-and since she did it, Trixie did it, she could, Trixie could, return. No, not return, but something else, maybe her, my, attempt to amend the situation. She said. Trixie said I said.” The familiar process she began to reverse back. No, not reverse, but something entirely different. Still, she knew what she was doing, or she thought she was, and by this she actually knew what she was doing. She cast the magic again, this time working backwards, or any directions that she did not venture before.