Act 2 Chapter 5
The Subject of Revenge
By Aurora Dawn
Act 2 Chapter 5
Trixie lay on her side in bed, staring across the dark trailer. From the dim light of the window, she could see the faint outline of Strater stretched out lazily on his cot. The stallion was dead asleep, breathing slowly as Luna’s moon reached its zenith. Occasionally a snore would pass through his muzzle, breaking the silence of the night. Trixie rolled onto her back and glared at the ceiling.
She couldn’t sleep. Bits of conversation from the day before had continuously poked at her mind, bringing forth odd and uneasy thoughts. Trixie couldn’t clear her head. With a groan, she slid off the side of her bed and sat down at her table. Slowly, so as not to disturb Strater, she pulled a few heavy books and scrap parchment off the shelf with her magic and lit a candle in the centre of the table.
Strater groaned as the soft light hit his face, and Trixie froze and stared at the grey pony. Strater flipped over in his bed, facing the wall, and snored loudly again. Trixie waited a second longer before turning back to her task. She stifled a yawn as she opened up a thick tome and started reading.
As the night wore on, Trixie vented her mind onto the scraps of parchment, jotting down notes and small sketches between bouts of research. Her candle burning at half it’s starting height, she stood up and walked away from the table for a break. She walked up to the small window beside Strater’s cot and looked at the scene outside.
The mass of tents had grown larger, and with the help of the moon’s light Trixie could see the canvas homes of hundreds of her fans stretch to the barely visible edge of Fillydelphia. A good two hundred feet from the caravan was a clearing, and Trixie could see several dozen ponies sitting around a large campfire, all talking quietly as the night wore on. They were laughing and smiling in the cool midnight air.
What is it with these ponies? So many of them have left behind friends and family to follow me, and they’re not just okay with that... they’re genuinely happy. I don’t understand it.
“Nervous about tomorrow?”
Trixie jumped, her heart racing. She turned and looked over at Strater. He was watching her, his head propped up on a hoof.
“How long have you been looking at Trixie?”
“Not long. But the way you’re staring out that window intrigued me. You don’t seem like the type that gets lost in thought much.”
Trixie looked at Strater, unimpressed. “You’re lucky Trixie’s too tired to feel insulted. But yes, you’re right. Trixie is a little nervous. But she doesn’t know why. Trixie has near-ultimate power. How can she mess this up?”
Strater quietly stood up from his cot and settled next to Trixie. He looked out the window as he spoke, staring at the campfire outside.
“You’re just remembering that you don’t own your power. Your power owns you. You’ve figured this out yourself, haven’t you? That’s the real reason you’re nervous; you just don’t want to accept it. Right?”
Trixie looked away from Strater, and the both of them watched a group of fans stand up and start singing quietly to the dark sky.
“... Yes, Trixie has. But Trixie can control her power. That’s all that counts.”
Strater nodded. “Exactly. Focus on that, then.”
They were quiet for a long time, watching the group.
“What do you suppose they’re singing?”
“Why don’t we go and find out? You were watching them pretty intensely there, earlier. What’s your problem with them?”
“It’s not so much a problem, but rather... Trixie doesn’t understand what it is. Why are they following her? What exactly is it that Trixie’s doing right? Or, is it even anything to do with her?”
“Best way to find out is to ask them straight. I’m sure any one of those ponies will happily answer. You’ve become more than an idol to them, you’re practically a goddess. These ponies love you.”
“Enough with the coaching, Strater, it’s nearly two in the morning.”
“Right, sorry. But why don’t we go out there anyways? No magic tricks. No formalities. Sit with your fans, share a cider with them, and sing a song or two. Then we can come back in and rest up for our practise tomorrow.”
Trixie nodded silently and turned towards the door. She reached for her cape but paused, thought for a moment, and let it be. “C’mon, Strates,” she chided softly as she stepped outside the caravan.
“Don’t call me that. Seriously, don’t call me that. That irks me to the core when I hear it.”
“You seemed pretty okay with Showtime calling you it.”
“That’s because it’s Showtime who was saying it. We’ve known each other for a lot of years. He’s one hay of a character, but you learn to love his attitude.”
“And what an attitude he has.”
“I’m a pretty forgiving guy. I learn to look past a person’s downfalls to see who they really are underneath.”
“So what’re Trixie’s downfalls, then?” the unicorn asked, the clopping of her hooves echoing between the vast rows of tents. None of the ponies by the campfire had noticed them yet.
“Oh, wow. Okay. Um. You’re arrogant, egotistical, and socially irresponsible.”
“I’ve heard that before. So who is Trixie, underneath?”
“You’re arrogant, egotistical, socially irresponsible, but you have a huge heart.”
“Touching.”
“You asked. To be honest, I’m surprised at how well you’re taking this. I like the midnight Trixie. She’s much more indifferent.”
“Trixie’ll probably be more insulted tomorrow, but there’s a lot on her mind right now. All she wants is a nice, relaxing night.”
“What’s eating you?”
“... Nothing important.”
Strater glanced at Trixie, but let the topic be. It was too late at night to force a discussion that nopony wanted to have.
As they walked into the light of the fire, they examined the bunch of fans with quiet intrigue. A unicorn was laying down, plucking gently with his magic on a wooden guitar, while a young colt nestled close to him. Four ponies stood close to one another, singing and swaying--due to the music or the cider, Trixie couldn’t tell--next to the musician. On the other side of the circle, a large group of ponies chatted softly, sipping from mugs of cocoa and bottles of apple cider. A few of the talking ponies looked up, and one called out.
“Could it be? Our presence is graced by the Great and Powerful Trixie!”
Before Trixie could say anything, Strater leaned over and whispered in her ear.
“You sure?” she whispered back. Strater gave a curt nod, and she replied. “For tonight, friends, just call me Trixie.”
“Are... Are you sure? We wouldn’t want to insult the most amazing pony that ever lived with such trifle small ta-”
“Just ‘Trixie’ is fine,” Trixie interrupted the ranting pony with a contained sigh. “Trixie’s actually looking for some ‘trifle’ small talk. After all, she still is just a pony, like everyone else here.”
“If that’s what you wish,” the pony replied, “then we shall treat you as en equal.”
“It is, yes.”
The rest of the group immediately let out a collective sigh--the mares at having being called an equal to Trixie, the stallions at being able to release the guts they had been hiding. Trixie couldn’t help but giggle as bottles of cider were passed around from hiding places. Soon enough, everypony settled back down and resumed their conversation.
“Now,” Strater spoke, patting Trixie on the back, “you learn whatever it is you need to know from these ponies here. I’m going to grab a cocoa and sing a bit with those ponies over there.”
“Strater? Strater Hooves?”
“Eh?”
“It is you, Strater! How have you been?”
A pegasus mare from the singing ponies called out to Strater, flying back with an empty mug for some more hot chocolate. Her coat was a pale grey, and in the light of the fire Trixie could make out her blond mane and a cutie mark consisting of seven bubbles. She looked familiar, but Trixie couldn’t place why.
“Is that... Cousin Derpy!” Strater’s face lit up in surprise, and he reached out and embraced the pegasus. “It’s been ages! What have you been up too? What brings you here?”
Trixie flinched as the pegasus became fully illuminated, showcasing her lazy eye. She had known others like this mare and hadn’t thought anything of it, but the sight was always enough to initially shock her. She continued to watch the pegasus, trying to figure out where she’d seen her before.
“I had a special package that needed to get to Fillydelphia on a rush job. But I caught a headwind on the way down, and by the time I made it here it was too dark to fly back. Needing a place to stay, and seeing a random village of tents, I figured I’d try my luck at catching a spare bed. That unicorn playing the guitar over there was more than happy to lend a mattress.”
“It’s funny how small this world really is, isn’t it?” Strater chuckled a bit. “Say, how’s Dinky doing? Is she holding up well since your husband volunteered to the Royal Guard?”
“Every letter he sends makes it a little easier on her. I’m just glad my job lets me see him every once in a while. Not many mares can say that.”
“Well, that’s nice. How’s Ponyville treating you these days?”
Suddenly it clicked. The Ponyville incident, of course! That mare was in the crowd, I remember. What is she doing here? Ugh, the nerve of some ponies, to mock me and cast me as an outcast and then continue to follow me-
Trixie’s train of thought was cut off by Derpy’s response to Strater’s question.
“Al- Alright, I guess... There’s still a lot of ponies there who don’t understand that it’s just a lazy eye. None of them stop to think about how difficult it is to fly and do basic tasks with vision like mine. I... I get insulted a lot.”
Strater nuzzled his cousin with a sad look on his face. “That’s too bad, Derpy. Why don’t you move, then? Canterlot’s a much more accepting place, and you’d be closer to your husband.”
“Oh, Strater, you know I can’t do that. Why should I let the jeers of uninformed ponies bother me, anyways? Dinky grew up in Ponyville and has just as many friends as any other foal, and I’ve got real friends that matter to me there, too. Nopony should ever let others mock them and cast them as an outcast without learning who they really are.”
Trixie flinched as the sentence hit her, and for the second time that night her mind began reeling with thoughts and ideas.
“H- Hey, Strater?”
“Yeah Trixie?”
“Why don’t you and Derpy go catch up by the singers there, so Trixie can talk with her fans? Would that be alright?”
Strater stared at Trixie, shocked by her sudden politeness. He gave her a questioning look, wondering what had caused the transition from haughty to distracted.
“Must be the time of night,” he muttered, encouraging Derpy to go over to the singers. They talked enthusiastically as they trotted around the fire.
Trixie shook her head to regain her composure. One of the ponies offered her some hot chocolate, and she nodded. In an act that would have sent Strater into convulsions, she pulled out a couple bits and handed them to the pony that served her the beverage.
“Oh, there’s no need for that, Trixie. A couple businesses in town graciously donated the food and drink we’ve been sharing in return for some free help.”
“Please, Trixie insists. You’ve done all this... just for her. The least she could do is return the favor, even if in the slightest.”
“Thank you, Trixie. You’re a real saint.”
Trixie stared at the pony blankly, her tired eyes wide and unblinking. The pony looked uncomfortable, and eventually edged away from Trixie’s line of sight. She shook her head again.
“... Sorry. Trixie doesn’t hear that too often. Which, really, brings her to the first thing she’d like to ask you ponies here.”
“Ask away.”
“All her life, she’s never seen something like this happen. She’ll admit she’s been... Pretty arrogant and rude. Nopony ever thought of her like you folks do. Why? Why is it you leave your lives behind to follow her, to camp on the cool ground, to depend on charities for survival?”
The ponies all considered the question, thinking for a long time. Trixie laid down on the ground by the fire in silence, sipping from her mug as she waited for an answer. She was too tired to be impatient, too tired to care about insults or jokes. Too many thoughts had passed through her mind and she could no longer focus on anything she didn’t care for. All she wanted was an answer. Trixie can get happy or angry or whatever about it tomorrow, she thought. No sense wasting the night on a bad mood.
“Well,” one of the ponies began, speaking deliberately so as not to use the wrong words, “I don’t speak for all of us, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got the main idea behind the fascination.”
“Trixie’s listening.”
“It’s just... For thousands of years, all Equestria’s ever had is regular ponies and the Alicorns. Sure, every once in a while a unicorn will come along with a lot of magical power. Take Princess Celestia’s apprentice there, whatever her name is. Midnight Twinkle, I don’t know. It’s not important. Sure, she’s got a lot of magic power, but she’ll never raise the sun. She’ll never bring the moon into the sky to grace us with a night as beautiful as we have here. I wasn’t there for that healing in Stableton, but I hear it was something amazing. Those regular unicorns have power, alright, but yours is unique.”
The other ponies agreed as the pony talked. A mare to the side spoke up immediately after the stallion finished.
“Yeah, that’s the fascination point of it. But there’s also a bit of... common ground to it, too, right? Here we have a unicorn, heck, just a pony, who could probably outmatch an Alicorn. And you’re a pony just as much as him or me. We can relate to you. So, yes, you have unmatchable power. You’re also one of us.”
“So, you’re not just followers of Trixie’s acts, then, you’re-”
“Followers of Trixie, yes. Maybe not every pony here, but I bet you at least nine out of every ten of us would follow you to the ends of the earth. You just wait, too. Once ponies start to hear about you coming down here, sharing a drink, and just talking with us? Expect great things, Trixie. While power can get you anything for a price; respect is a source of credit.”
Trixie fell silent, thinking about what she was just told. She shivered as a chill breeze penetrated past her coat, and noticed several of the others quiver. She watched as they took a brief pause to down more hot cocoa.
Well, if respect is a source of credit, it couldn’t hurt to raise Trixie’s limit a bit, could it?
Trixie cast a light spell, surprising the group of ponies as the air shimmered around them. Soon, a deep warmth overcame them all. The mare who last spoke reached a hoof tentatively out of the haze and quickly drew it back, shocked.
“... Thank you, Trixie. Can we get you some more to drink? It’s the least we could do.”
“No, that’s fine. Trixie needs to sleep. Even unicorns as majest- uh,” she paused, remembering her lessons, “Even... even talented magicians need their rest, just like everypony else.”
“Have a good night. We look forward to your performance!”
“How do you-”
“We’re fanatics, dear. We learn things we shouldn’t,” the mare laughed, waving a hoof goodbye while Trixie walked away. A quizzical look overcame the unicorn’s face, and she shook her head sleepily on her way to where Strater was with his cousin.
“Strater, Trixie thinks it’s time for bed.”
“Hold on, hold on, one m- one more verse!” Strater hiccuped in his apparent excitement.
Trixie stood dumbfounded, watching Strater lean down and noisily suck the contents of a brown-coloured bottle out through a straw. He whipped up quickly, stumbling over slightly into his laughing cousin, before launching out into song. Derpy and the unicorn playing the guitar joined with him; neither, however, were as drunk as the earth pony.
“Strater Hooves!”
“Yes, Preat and Gowerful Trixie?”
“Trixie is seriously astounded. She’s been gone maybe ten minutes, and you’re already out of control. Trixie thought you were supposed to make the good decisions. And singing songs like that, in front of this little foal.”
The guitar player’s eyes widened, and he looked down, surprised to see his child still nestled asleep by his legs. Sheepishly he stood up, resting the foal onto his back, and walked off to his tent while saying goodnight.
“I won’t be far behind,” Derpy called out to him.
“Well?” Trixie tapped a hoof, glaring at the tipsy stallion.
Strater flopped onto the ground defeated, his rear legs splaying out awkwardly. He pouted at Trixie, his clouded eyes widening in sorrow. “But I was just tryi- trying to have some fun. I haven’t seen Derpy here in ages.”
“To be fair, Strates,” the grey pegasus spoke up, giggling, “I haven’t seen you in as much time, and I’m still quite sober.”
Strater looked at his cousin, his open eyes and lower lip continuing to search for pity. “You too, Derpy?”
“Sorry Strater. It was nice seeing you again, you take care.”
“Say hi to Dinky for me, then.” Strater watched his cousin hop into the air and glide after the unicorn, and turned back to Trixie with a goofy grin on his muzzle.
“... Now what?”
“Want a cider?”
“Trixie’s going to bed. And you’re going to sleep too, before you become utterly useless to me tomorrow.”
“I don’t wanna,” he chuckled childishly. His laughter was cut short though, as a shimmering aura enveloped and lifted him into the air. “Oh, for buck’s sakes, not again!”
“You complain a lot,” Trixie commented, pulling the hovering pony along behind her as she trotted back to the wagon.
“I complain a lot. Me. Your cutie mark should just be somepony whining.”
Trixie sighed and shook her head. Her horn shone maroon for a moment, and a solid orb of red energy rocketed out from her and connected with Strater. He flinched when it impacted his head.
“What the hay was thaaaaaauuuhhh....” was all he could make out before he fell limp, hanging in the air like a ragdoll.
That was far too satisfying for Trixie’s own good.
Trixie climbed into the caravan, unable to hold back her yawns any longer. She settled into her own bed before moving Strater’s unconscious body above his own bed.
“Goodnight, Strater.” With that, she dropped him carelessly onto his cot and fell asleep almost immediately.
---
Strater groaned lowly and painfully as he woke, moaning from the very depths of his soul while he turned to roll out of bed. Lazily lifting his head, he gasped in pain when the morning light from the window hit his face and he slammed his eyes shut in agony.
“This is what happens when you act like an idiot.”
The grey pony risked cracking open one eye, and his lagging mind struggled to comprehend the scene in front of him. Trixie was trotting around the table, her cape hanging from her neck like an apron, and on the table magical fires warmed a couple large pots and a kettle.
“Wh... what’s all th-”
“Well, you were up so late,” Trixie tutted, leaning across the table to sniff deeply from the large pot in the center, “Trixie figured you’d appreciate a good, healthy breakfast.”
Strater swayed in his bed, gagging as he watched the blue unicorn lift a ladle of the oatmeal high over the bowl, turn it over, and let the congealed grains slowly stretch and splatter into the bowl with a wet ‘plop’ sound.
“Now if the oatmeal isn’t enough, Trixie’s also cooked some vegetables for you. She hopes you like spinach,” she started, grabbing a plate and dropping a large serving of slimy, rubbery greens onto it. “And as a special treat, Trixie’s cooked up her family recipe hangover cure. It consists of magic, tulip stems, mineral water, grass, more grass, dandelions, and a lot more grass.” She placed a glass on the table and poured the contents of the kettle into it, letting the frothy, green, gelatinous mixture ooze out slowly in front of the nauseated stallion.
Strater stared at the plate set in front of him for several seconds, his swaying increasing.
“Well, Strater? Hungry?”
And with that he bolted up off his cot, planting a hoof on his muzzle as he burst out the door and stumbled outside of the caravan, tripping on the steps on his way out.
“Do please clean yourself up a bit when you’re done,” Trixie called out after him, laughing evilly as she moved the contents of the table to the side and placed her notebooks and scrolls in the center. She hummed loudly to mask the unpleasant sounds coming from behind the trailer and dove into her research with renewed intensity. After a moment, Trixie paused and looked up and stared at the bowl of oatmeal.
“Oh, why not.”
She pulled the bowl over and started eating, savoring the delicious cinnamon and maple flavours she had cooked into the meal. She turned back to her notes as she ate, scribbling haphazardly as she juggled a quill and a spoon while reading. The door to the caravan creaked open, and Strater heaved himself inside and sat down.
“Luna’s beard, does my head hurt. Ugh.”
“Drink the mixture. Honest to Celestia, Trixie wasn’t making that up.” She pulled the glass close and took a sip, proving her words. Strater watched with a pained expression as Trixie set the cup down in front of him and tossed in a straw. She waited a beat before sliding the glass closer to him with a hoof. An odd gurgling noise escaped the earth pony’s muzzle.
“Drink up, Strater, or Trixie will teleport you back and forth.”
With a glare that could have boiled water, he leaned forward and drank the mixture in one go, before sitting back in his chair.
“... That’s... wow. Actually not that bad. And I’m starting to feel better, too. Right now. That stuff is a miracle!”
“Trixie’s glad you think so, because you’re going to go through hell and back today. She needs a mind-blowing routine for audition.”
Strater rubbed his temples, struggling to think through his headache. “Oh Luna, Trixie. I have no idea. You are absolutely not allowed to cut me in half lengthwise again, at least.”
“Duly noted.”
“Maybe, try... What can you do, anyways? I see something new every day.”
Trixie shuffled some of her large textbooks and papers and slid one of the more massive books across to him. With a flick she opened the text to the exact page she wanted, and let Strater read it.
“The Encyclopedia of Magic... I can see that as being useful.”
“Hush up and read, or Trixie will force-feed you the spinach.”
“What is with you and threats today? Okay, fine.” Strater began reading, occasionally spouting suggestions of spells and tricks Trixie could do. Trixie continued to read and jot notes as he read.
“Ooh, this sounds interesting. A ‘Flutterwing’ spell. Temporarily makes wings out of gossamer and morning dew.”
“Hmm. Trixie could do one, but they’re pretty common in regular magic shows. She’ll keep it in mind.”
“‘Variations on the Cup and Ball’ tricks? How do you even do a variation on that?”
“Ooh, Trixie likes that. You don’t get motion sick easily, do you?”
“...Against my better judgement, I’m going to tell you no, I don’t.”
“Excellent. Anything else catch your eye?”
“Just this last one, here. I haven’t read into it at all, but the name seems cool. ‘Spontaneous Cri-”
Trixie slammed the book shut and lifted it back to the bookshelf, violently shoving it into its place.
“Those first two will do fine.”
“... I am in way too much pain to even question what just happened.”
“Good. Have some oatmeal.”
Strater opened his muzzle to object, but stopped himself with a defeated shake of his head. He grabbed the bowl Trixie offered and leaned back in his chair, eating silently. Trixie let Strater eat as she packed up her work, standing up and stretching her back in a cat-like manner as she cleaned. Strater finished the bowl and looked up at her, curiously.
“So I’ve been wondering. Every time your parents are mentioned, you freeze, look all sad, and then change the topic. Since I’m still really not prepared to teach you anything yet, why don’t you entertain me. What’s their story?”
Trixie tilted her head away from Strater, hiding her eyes. “Trixie doesn’t want to talk about it.”
“Horse manure. Yes you do. You just think you don’t. Get it off your chest.”
“Leave Trixie alone! She doesn’t want to talk about it. It hurts too much.” Trixie’s horn glowed deep red with another combat spell, and she glared--almost frightened--at the earth pony.
“No. Hit me with more magic, I don’t care. This is obviously a problem, and-” Strater was cut off as an energy projectile connected with his shoulder. He yelped, but stood tall again, staring sternly at Trixie. “This is a problem, and talking about it can only make things better. Shooting me with magic however,” he swore, rubbing his shoulder, “Only serves to piss ponies off and leave you bitter.”
Trixie’s face scrunched up, her expression morose yet infuriated, and she turned from Strater.
“We’re alone here, Trixie. Just try it, for once.”
“You won’t be able to appeal to Trixie’s guilt, Strater. Not now, now this subject.”
Well, Strater thought with a smirk, then I’ll appeal to her ego instead.
“Consider this then. You are almost perfect. You can do almost anything.”
“Trixie can do anything, haven’t you noticed?”
“No, you can do almost anything. Anything providing your parents are never mentioned. And, until you talk about it and get over it, you’ll never pass that wall.”
“... Fine.” Trixie cleared the rest of the objects off the table and stepped onto it, sitting in her usual proud manner. Her horn glittered, and suddenly particles manifested themselves in the air above the unicorn, focusing into neon-sign-like images. Strater’s jaw dropped slowly as he watched the projection, listening to Trixie’s narration that accompanied the show.
“When Trixie was just a little filly,” she began...
A small, gleeful blue pony appeared, sitting in between two adult unicorns. They nuzzled each other, smiling and embracing each other as only a family could.
“She travelled with her parents as they entertained Equestria. We didn’t make a lot of money, but we always had enough to live a comfortable life. We were happy. We were happy because we made other ponies happy.”
The scene vanished and replaced itself, the adult ponies standing on a stage with various magic effects flashing behind them. The blue filly appeared between them again, laughing as she tried to reproduce the tricks her parents performed.
“Trixie’s parents would teach her and help her hone her own magical talent. Her cutie mark appeared very early on, a wand surrounded by magic. Her destiny was...”
Trixie paused, gauging Strater’s reaction. He was locked on the magical display, his jaw lax in awe. Trixie smiled and continued. “Her destiny was... to entertain!”
Strater flinched as the scene continued.
The filly jumped high while Trixie’s cutie mark glittered in the air behind her. Fireworks and other mystical displays shone brightly, surrounding and lightening the unicorn.
“But she went too far,” Trixie sobbed.
The scene turned dark, the magic fading and enveloping the filly in shadow. She stopped jumping, instead curling into a ball and shaking in fear.
“Her parents always supported her, even when she took over their shows and became the main attraction. She demanded more, in every town and every city, she strove to become better and more amazing. Greater. In one fateful act, one day...” Trixie stopped, and tears were running down her face.
The unicorn started crying silently, the tears shimmering as they fell slowly, serenely.
Strater’s eyes watered in sympathy, but still he watched, fixated on the projections in front of him.
“One day,” Trixie choked, continuing, “She set up a massive fireworks display. All of Hoofington would be lit up that night. Ponies would be sure to talk about the event for years, Trixie was sure.”
Again the scene was replaced by another, a stage and trailer appearing as everything brightened. The filly was running gleefully through a crowd of faceless ponies, with various bursts of magic escaping through her enthusiasm.
“But one pony got violent. Some show unicorn, ages ago, had embarrassed him, and that pony held onto that grudge, fueling and feeding it over the years. He attacked Trixie’s-” She frowned, and shook her head. “No. He attacked my parents. In the struggle, some of the fireworks that were stockpiled were set ablaze.”
Behind the trailer, a pony accosted the adults, swinging wildly while the stallion reached to protect the mare. There was a shout, and the third pony fell back into a mysterious crate.
“The explosion killed them all.”
The show flashed violently, shooting sparks and smoke out chaotically. The projection finally settled, fading slowly into a grey mist with only a lone, sobbing blue filly in the center. The mist dissipated completely, vanishing with a distant, echoing wail of mourning.
Trixie lowered her head, her horn’s glow receding, and she sat on the table--once again dark with shadows--and cried.
“Trixie was old enough by then,” she whispered hoarsely. Strater struggled to hear. “After the citizens of Hoofington gave what they could, they shooed the poor filly away, leaving her to her own devices. Trixie moved the wagon on her own. She used her own bits to feed herself. And every night, Trixie went to sleep, by herself, in her dark and lonely caravan, knowing in her heart the best she could do is make her parents proud by becoming better and better.”
Strater reached a comforting hoof out, patting Trixie on her back. Trixie sniffed as a single tear dropped from her muzzle and landed on the table.
“So that explains it,” Strater spoke softly, leading Trixie down to the floor and giving her a hug. “Why you freeze at their names... you don’t think it was your fault, do you?”
“Well... Trixie did demand all the fireworks, and if it wasn’t for her-”
“Stop,” Strater ordered. He pressed a hoof against Trixie’s mouth, shushing her. “There’s always a risk with fireworks. If your parents were as talented as they sounded, they would have known all those risks and taken all the precautions. That other pony caused them to go off. Not you.”
“But, the Grea-”
“Not. You.”
Trixie opened her mouth, but the words caught. She tried again, yet despite her efforts no sound issued from her. Eventually, she lowered her head and nodded, sniffing again. Strater walked over to the counter and grabbed a rag, offering it to Trixie. She smiled weakly as she wiped her face and cleaned herself up a bit.
“Trixie, I have to tell you. You’ve done your parents good. You may not be the most... shall we say... well-mannered of ponies, but you have a kind heart. And you’re not just better and better. You are the best. There’s no denying that. I don’t think your parents would have any reason not to be proud of you, wherever they are.”
Trixie’s smile widened, and she raised her head a little. After a moment’s thought, she raised her shoulders and straightened her back, limiting her cockiness while still wearing a face a pride. “Trixie... Trixie thinks you’re right. She has made them proud. She has.”
“That was your lesson for today,” Strater chuckled. “You feel better now?”
Trixie nodded. “Thank you, Strater.”
“Nothing to thank me about, Trixie. Although, in return, you could tell me what kind of trance spell you used on me just then.”
“Trance spell?”
“Yeah. I couldn’t look away from your story. It was like some sort of magic was entrapping me, preventing me from looking away.”
Trixie tilted her head in confusion. “There was nothing like that. The spell just makes the presentation. If anything was making you watch, it was just... you.”
“Fascinating. I’m going back to bed now, anyways. My head hurts.”
“Oh, no you don’t. If Trixie’s going to pay you bits per day, you’re going to work per day.”
“But Trixie,” Strater whined, his cry a mixture of sarcasm and genuine pleading.
“No buts. Does Trixie need to use her magic again?”
Strater grimaced, biting his lower lip. “Fine. But don’t expect the best performance from me today.”
“The best performance wouldn’t come from you, it’d come from Trixie.”
Strater walked to the door and opened it, pointing his hoof outside with a flourish. “I miss the midnight Trixie,” he muttered, stepping out after the blue unicorn.
---
Showtime paced urgently in front of Trixie and Strater. Behind him hung a great red velvet curtain, its heavy fabric dampening the sound and lights beyond. Showtime’s eye twitched as he paused his pacing to glance onstage.
“Strates, baby, I love ya, but didya have to bring a whole freaking village with you? I have no idea how this is going to turn out. Oh colt, oh colt...”
Strater laughed and patted his friend on the shoulder. “Calm down, Showtime. It’ll be amazing, just you watch. We’ve been practising for a few days now too, just in case. You’ve never had anything to worry about!” He laughed and sat next to Trixie. She was frozen still in her upgraded ‘proud pose’; her back rigid, her muzzle high in the air-- so much in fact, her hat was starting to slide off her mane. Showtime glanced at her and shook his head.
“I dunno, Strater. Those ponies in the V.I.P. booth don’t care about a massive crowd here. They care about how good the show is. For all they know, Trixie coulda bought’em all off!” Showtime slammed a hoof into the ground, a nerve by his horn twitching. He shouted down the hall. “Proby! More decaf!”
“Trixie thinks,” the unicorn started, her form unmoving, “That Mr. Showtime would do better with a shot of alicorn tranquilizer than simple decaf.”
Showtime looked at her and spasmed. “Yah know what? Fine. Do your own thing. Baby, I don’t care. I’ve got my money back for bringing those ponies here. If you fail miserably, I can just say you brainwashed me like that whole crowd.”
“That’s the spirit, Showtime!” Strater laughed and ushered him out of the way. “You head back to your office and have a cigar. Relax. You’re done with us now!”
“Strates, I wish it were that easy! On the one hoof, you could screw up, and life goes on for me. I’ll call that pegasus filly back and get her to do that unbelievable act, if she gets over having her show punted for yours.” Showtime slammed a hoof into the ground, emphasizing his astonishment. “But on the other hoof, if you guys succeed, I’m coming with you.”
“Oh?”
“As your agent, I’ll be contractually obliged to follow and make sure you have everything you could want or need.”
“I think that’s a little unneccesary, Showtime. Trixie can already acquire everything we would want or need,” Strater beamed at the panicking unicorn.
“Now hold on, Strater.” Trixie broke her pose, frowning and looking at her red-maned friend. “Why should Trixie do all the work if someone else is willing, or at least forced,” she added, noticing Showtime roll his eyes, “to do it for her?”
Strater gave Trixie a questioning look. “Wait, wait, you strive for unlimited power, but don’t intend to use it?”
Trixie resumed her arrogant stance before replying. “Oh, Strater, Strater, Strater. The point of having power is not to use it, but simply to be able to.”
“I don’t follow.”
Showtime elbowed Strater back away from the stage. “Well then find out later, Strates, because right now,” he trailed, taking one final glance at the audience beyond the stage. He turned back and flipped his head up, launching his sunglasses off his mane. With a perfectly timed kick, the shades rebounded off his rear hoof and spun back, landing expertly on his muzzle. “Iiiiiiiit’s SHOWTIME!”
Trixie and Strater stared blankly at the panting, silver-and-orange unicorn. Showtime’s grin slowly faded to a frown. “Oh, c’mon. You cannot believe how long I’ve wanted to do that. And I pulled it off, too! But seriously. Get out of the way, the show’s starting.” With that, Showtime cantered off down the hall, screaming orders at unfortunate workers.
“Strater.”
“Mmyes, Ms. Great and Powerful?”
“My cape.”
As per their tradition, which they had started back after Stableton, Strater grabbed Trixie’s trademark cape and walked up to her, balancing on his rear hooves as he fastened it around her neck.
“Trixie,” Strater spoke, continuing the tradition.
“Mmyes, Mr. Hooves?”
“My pay.”
A handful of bits levitated from some saddlebags that had been tossed to the side and set themselves in Strater’s hooves. Strater smiled approvingly as Trixie walked over to the centre of the stage and sat right next to the curtain. With a nod to Showtime, the curtains began to rise dramatically. Trixie’s posture perfected itself as the intense lights illuminated her from all angles, surrounding and filling her with the thrill of performance, the excitement of being watched, and the pride of being the center of attention. Strater called out to her before he exited the stage, completing their pre-show ritual.
“Chip a hoof, on with the show, let that good ol’ magic flow!”
---
I’d like to thank the crew in #LunarStudy, especially Foolonthehillz and Autumn Wind, for help with editing and pre-reading this fiction. Thanks for putting up with me randomly stopping conversation to find the right words for this fiction, guys. =D
If you loved or hated the fiction, or have anything to say to me, feel free to drop me a line at AuroraDawn.mlp at gmail.com. I appreciate any comments I get!
---
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan made fiction, based on the animated show “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.” I do not own, nor lay any claim to My Little Pony or any related intellectual property.
This work was made entirely for entertainment value and as a tribute to the amazing work of the Friendship is Magic production team. It is not, and will never be, distributed for profit.
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Another one of my favourite stories migrates to Fimfiction
Here have a cute image of Twilight in gratitude.
th03.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2011/255/7/3/book_fort_twilight_by_dreatos-d49p4jw.png
Oh hey, you finally put it on FimFiction
I still think you should finish it some day.
is there something wrong with my pc or is chapter 5 the same as chapte 4?
anyway awsome story
199891 It's true. your computer isn't messed up. I figured that out just by looking at the word count!
Fixed the chapters~
You created an absolutely amazing duo there! Please continue this story!
I find it rather sad how little views this story has... It's just too awesome to not be known by everypony! But yea, this truly is an amazing fic and should be continued.
This is an excellent story that really needs more views. However, may I suggest that you add a space between paragraphs? It currently looks like a huge wall. Other than that, this is great. Please continue.
I can't wait until you finish it...
...
...
...You are going to finish it, right?
836165
Nope! =D
Unfortunately, the story got too far away from what I had planned with it. The concept I was going for required too much explanation in order to make sense, and I didn't start it properly.
As well, the readership on it sort of... completely died. I decided to work on more fruitful projects.
846687
Um...
*various profanities*
I'm calm now. Shame, this looked real good.
I believe many fans are familiar with the concept of Trixie seeking revenge. However, I believe that there are very few fanfictions like this which take it a step further by illustrating her potential hunger for power and the events to come of it. This is why I find Subject of Revenge so appealing especially at the first chapter.
This should almost be part of the show, I love this story!!!
This is an incredible story continue it NOW!
plese?
You need to finish this fic. Seriously, this could turn out pretty epic. Please?
846687 That's quite a shame I loved this
but i guess it can't be helped. i hope you consider a rewrite in the future. 
Technically all u need to add to the description are four simple things
...or will she?
I created an account to express how depressed I am that this story won't continue. (I would put sad faces, but there aren't enough)
its so sad that this is on permanent hiatus :(