Fictionationality - Equestria

by Spirit Guide

A Great and Powerful End to the Day

Celestia and Fang quickly traversed the rest of the corridor, their stride purposeful. Fang was beaming, his current form's namesakes so pronounced it was blinding, and Celestia seemed even more gladdened than before. Overall, they made for a glowing pair, literally giving off or reflecting some light.

"Someone mention us?" Celestia inquired.

"We were just finishing up with the homing-teleportation spell—I'm going to start calling it something else, by the way—when the Princess and I felt a surge of magic. Of course, in a world full of the stuff, that wouldn't seem to be out of place. But no, when we felt the surge, it felt blue."

"Don't ask how; it just did," Celestia added, following the dragon's vague speech pattern.

"So we located the hot spot and moseyed on down and, lo and behold, we find you." Fang approached the prophet. "You've got a habit of big flashy things going on in your general vicinity."

"You taught me everything I know," Spirit promised.

"Yeah, but you can't teach color."

"But we can teach magic," Celestia chimed in. "We can, we have and we will."

"I guess we have much more knowledge to impart onto each other," Spirit remarked.

"Without a doubt," Luna agreed, "though I think it'd be best to end our time together for today. We will have more time tomorrow to discuss magic, history and many other things besides."

"We certainly will." Celestia gestured down the hall with her wing. "Come, boys. We'll walk you to the gates."

"Um, uh... I think I'll say my farewells here," Luna stammered. "See you later, Spirit!" Her piece said, the princess ran back up the stairs and out of sight.

"Still lacking confidence and stature?" Fang wondered. "Gotta do something about that."

"I'm certain she will regain both her confidence and former form with time," Celestia said, "and I believe you two will be the key to that."

"I just hope she gets it back while we're here to help her out with it," Spirit commented.

The three of them walked out of the castle and across the courtyard, where dozens of guards milled about, many of them greeting the prophet and the dragon with the same reverence they showed the Princess. At the gates, Spirit and Fang passed through while Celestia waved from inside.

"I will see you tomorrow, the same time as today," she called, "or whenever you would rather come. Just send a note through Fang."

"Will do. Thank you, your Majesty."

"Yep. See you whenever, Princess."

After they'd crossed the bridge back into the city, Fang flapped his wings and flew alongside Spirit. "What a day! A whole lot of this, a huge load of that, and a little bit of these."

"Did I ever mention how tricky it is to talk to you?" Spirit said.

Fang stared at him, eyes bulging, as if he'd uttered a nasty word. "Is that what you want to comment about? We just spent a day in the presence of the coolest royal rulers in all the fictional lands! Fill in the blanks, starbutt!"

"No need for name-calling. But you're right; it has been an astounding day, as has every day since we've arrived in Equestria."

"Gee, that's putting it lightly." Fang reached down and plucked a weed growing in between the cobblestones. "Everything in this world is brimming with magic. I could probably fashion explosives out of the grass."

"Without cheating?"

"...... maybe. I'd have to now, what with my cards back to zero. I hate waiting for things recharge. Y'know that feeling, Spirit?

"Spirit?"

The prophet wasn't answering. They had arrived in the plaza where the magic show had taken place and Spirit was giving all his attention to the magician mare, who was now sitting in front of her wagon looking dejected, her hat sitting lopsided on her head. Her wagon was peppered with splotches of rotten fruit and though a mop and bucket stood beside the mess, they clearly hadn't been used very much to clean it up.

I can't stand thinking what she must have gone through, Spirit said to himself. I've got to help her. But how...

Then Spirit remembered the two bags of Equestrian currency, golden bits, in his bags; one given to him each by Twilight and Celestia as gifts. Normally, Spirit found very little to do with money, he and Fang normally using it for lodging and food or living off the land, but with all their expenses being paid off by their generous hosts, the bits were going unused.

Now, they will be used.

"Ooh ooh, lookie lookie lookie, ooh ah ah!"

Ignoring his friend's impeccable primate imitation, Spirit turned and followed Fang's eager pointing to the large building across the street from them. From its ornate design, the sign outside and the orchestral music coming from within, Spirit saw it to be a theater. But Fang was bouncing on the spot with excitement; C

"I can hear it all: winds, brass, strings, percussion, everything. Each individual instrument: the fourth trumpet, the twelfth violin, the third cello!" He fell to his knees and grabbed Spirit by the collar of his cloak. "I gotta go inside!"

Spirit knew what a big fan of music Fang was and saw this as the perfect opportunity to help out the ruined mare behind them. "All right. You go off for some fun, I'll just be out here."

"You're not coming in?"

"I may be able to play and appreciate it, but there are some things in life that... take precedence over the sound of music."

Fang looked at the prophet unamusedly, and then blew a raspberry. "Fine, whatevs. I'mma go find me a musician to sit with." With a hum in his scaly throat, the green drake skipped over to the theater and disappeared inside.

"That's one of us in good spirits," the stallion said. "Now to get this spirit to work."

Spirit walked over to the magician, who looked up to see the pony that was drawn to her. At first she flinched, her body seizing up as her eyes widened and beheld Spirit, but a moment later she relaxed. "What do you want?" the mare said in a somewhat haughty but pained voice, as though she wasn't expecting an answer but an attack.

"Many things, most of which are irrelevant at the moment," Spirit said rather weaselly, "though I wouldn't mind a little magic show, if you don't mind."

At the words 'magic show', the mare seemed to brighten. She looked around the plaza, registering the other ponies passing by and in their shops, before turning back to Spirit. "I suppose the Great and Powerful Trixie could perform for a small audience," she announced, speaking in the third person, a behavior which Spirit could never recall seeing in anyone or anything he'd ever known. "Watch in awe, my simple pony, for you are about to witness feats of magic the likes of which you have never seen before!"

I seriously doubt it, the prophet said to himself, taking a seat, but humor me.

While the magic show turned out to be less than what Spirit himself could have easily done, it was what it was meant to be: a magic show. Trixie pulled a bouquet of flowers out of her hat, skillfully bent a ray of sunlight into a rainbow which she then tied into an iridescent luminescence-bow, swung a lasso into the shape of a pony and pulled a bit from behind Spirit's ear, and although Spirit sensed a teleportation spell used during the trick, he was entertained by it all the same.

The show finished, Spirit clapped his hooves, using his magic to magnify the sound and making it seem as though a huge crowd were applauding. Trixie noticed the stallion's technique and didn't hide her look of fascination. "The Great and Powerful Trixie is pleased with the undivided attention you've been giving her," she said, walking towards Spirit. "As a reward for your admiration, Trixie will share a single feat of hers that you wish to hear, anything you know of Trixie which she will then recount for you."

Spirit looked at the waiting mare, then behind her at the splattered wagon. Looking more closely at Trixie, Spirit noticed a slight tenseness in her stance, a sign of suspect and concern as though she were on guard against something, and after seeing her wagon Spirit could already guess what and why.

Time to break the ice.

"Could you tell me why ponies treat you so badly, why they turn down your performance and chase you away? What did you do that tarnished your reputation as a unicorn magician?"

The look that crossed Trixie's face right then almost made Spirit regret making his request, but he fought on for his ulterior motive. The showmare's eyes turned downwards, refusing to look at Spirit. Her mouth became an upside-down curve that quivered slightly, as did her entire body beneath the purple star-spangled cloak she wore.

"You... you wish to hear Trixie's tale of woe? The story of her disgrace, of the pony who brought Trixie's reputation into ruin?"

Spirit gave a gentle nod. He wanted to know more so he could help Trixie out. "Yes."

Trixie sighed and turned away. "Then please, come into Trixie's wagon."

Spirit stood up and quickly followed the mare up the steps into her wagon. The inside was rather cramped, but there was room to move about the bed, desk, chest of drawers and curtain. Trixie sat down on the bed and gestured to the only chair, waiting for Spirit to sit. "Trixie is curious now," she admitted. "Who are you to want to hear Trixie's tragedy? And please, don't give Trixie a wormy answer like you did before."

"You want to know why I want to know, so I will tell you: I can't bear to see anypony being mistreated so badly, especially a pony whom I know nothing about. Without knowing the reason for the treatment, I can't make a decision of my own and may be led to following the crowd sheep-like, an act which I despise. For this reason, I wish to know what has transpired in your recent time that brought to you this misfortune and, furthermore, to try and help you."

Once the prophet began to voice his answer, Trixie sat relaxed on her bed, listening intently to his every word. When he'd finished, she nodded her head and said, "Then Trixie will tell you her tale."

*

"I've been in the magic show business for quite a while. I've traveled all around Equestria performing my tricks. Every unicorn has some degree of magic in the field of their special talent, but I specialized in illusions, conjurations and all manner of sleights-of-hoof, perfect for magic shows. It started out well enough; I went from town to town, from city to city, performing for ponies of all ages.

"But then..." Trixie levitated a pitcher of water and two cups onto the table. "The life of a lonely traveling magician left me with a lot of time to myself and not much with anypony else. I began to think that there was nopony like me, nopony as good at magic as me... I began to get conceited. So I started making up stories about supremely impressive feats that I'd accomplished."

"And then ponies began challenging the authenticity of these feats," Spirit guessed, filling the cups with water and pushing one towards the mare.

"No, actually. Things remained quite the same, although the audiences were more awestruck than before. It happened at one of my more recent performances." Trixie's gaze fell and she took a sip from her cup. "In Ponyville."

Spirit did his best not to spit-take. He did, however, get some water up his nose. "What happened?" he asked, keeping his voice level to hide his surprise.

"It started out all right. The ponies were in awe, of course, watching my tricks with a sense of amazement. But then the awesomeness of my magic was challenged, I gave in to my pride and delivered my made-up story: my vanquishing of an Ursa Major."

"Ursa Major?" The name rang familiar, but Spirit couldn't figure out the context.

"A huge bear-like creature that lives in the Everfree forest. Anyways, hearing the supposed tale didn't convince most of the crowd, so I challenged their disbelief with an 'Anything you can do, I can do better' contest. The takers were dealt with swiftly, each in their own area, my magic outstripping their sad little performance attempts.

"But then, two particularly devoted and dim colts got it into their heads to bring an Ursa into Ponyville, to see me vanquish it. The double dipsticks went into the Everfree Forest, woke the beast up and brought it lumbering back to town, where it began to rampage. Of course, being a magician, an illusionist, a showmare, I did not have the magic to 'vanquish' the monster."

"But obviously it was dealt with somehow," Spirit reasoned. "I've visited Ponyville recently and it seems in fine shape." Except for the hole I made myself.

Upon hearing this, Trixie eyed Spirit curiously, though the prophet had an inkling it was for a different reason than he guessed. "That's because it was dealt with. And the pony responsible for the dealing is also the one responsible for my disgrace."

"What kind of a pony could commit two acts so different from each other? Who did this to you, Trixie?"

Trixie looked out the window of her wagon at the Canterlot street, at the well-dressed ponies and the grand stone buildings. Her gaze returned into her substantially simpler travelling home, and then at the inquiring equine before her. She took in a deep breath, her face morphed into a mix of rage and sadness, and responded with two words.

"Twilight Sparkle."

A great weight changed shoulders in that moment. Trixie let out a huge sigh and fell back onto her bed, reaching underneath it for a jar of peanut butter and packet of crackers. Spirit remained glued to his seat, his own face a blank mask but his mind racing. Twilight never mentioned this to me: this clash with Trixie and the ruination of her work. Is that really how it happened, or did Trixie miss something?

With no answer, Spirit had no choice but to pursue. "So what happened after Twili... Twilight Sparkle vanquished the Ursa Major?"

"It's worse than that," Trixie said with a snort, dipping a cracker into the jar of spread. "It wasn't even an Ursa Major; those bumbling colts only found an Ursa Minor, a baby. Sparkle whistled it to sleep, fed it milk and floated it back into its cave. I was forced to leave Ponyville in shame, never looking back. I tried to continue my life as a traveling performer, being careful not to repeat my recounting of the Ursa-vanquishing, but..."

Crunch munch

"It didn't make a difference," Spirit guessed.

"Wowd off my shaming pwesheded me," Trixie said, swallowing her mouthful of cracker before continuing. "No matter where I went, ponies would scorn me and chase me away. Once, a unicorn even tried to hijack my show, declaring 'If a Ponyvillian can trump this second-rate magician, so can I!'" At this, Trixie sighed. "That was the most humiliating of my painful experiences following my shaming at the hooves of Twilight Sparkle. Everywhere I went, her victory over me was rubbed in my face.... and on my wagon."

Trixie twisted the curtain around with her magic, showing a not-so flattering stick figure scrawled onto it in green. No wonder she's so distressed, Spirit thought. All she's trying to do is her job as a performer and everything is crumbling around her. I'm not sure exactly what went on between these two, but I know who needs help because of it.

Without a word, Spirit got up from the chair and walked out of the wagon. Noticing her audience-guest getting up and leaving suddenly, Trixie leapt off the bed and rushed out after him. Standing on the wagon's steps, the showmare registered one of the most fantastic deeds she'd ever witnessed. Spirit levitated the bucket of water and gave the mop an experimental twirl, dripping water onto the plaza cobblestones. With long strong strokes, he began scrubbing the rotten stains off Trixie's wagon, the vegetated mess coming off like dust under a wet wipe. Taking up a brush, Spirit gave the curtains a vigorous scrape, effectively removing the green graffiti from Trixie's drapes.

Round and round the mop went, occasionally going down for a sopping soak before resurfacing and attacking the hate-induced defacement. Viewer became performer and performer became viewer as Trixie found herself taken in by Spirit's work, both appreciating and admiring what the stallion was taking upon himself to do. Passing ponies paid no attention to the cleanup taking place in the plaza, leaving Trixie the sole witness to the kindness taking place.

Within minutes, it was over. The wagon gleamed like polished oak, the curtains spotless as the day they were made. Spirit put the mop and bucket aside, taking a step back to review his work. But before he could give it a once-over, something barreled into his back and a head popped up past his shoulder.

"It's magnificent," Trixie whispered, eyes wide and dazzled. She slowly crept around Spirit and towards her sparkling wagon, taking in every inch of gleaming wood. "It's beautiful. I can scarcely remember the last time it looked this good."

"I'm not much of a cleaner, but I'll admit it's pretty spotless," Spirit said.

"Don't be ridiculous; it's downright amazing!" Trixie turned to Spirit, her face bright and beaming. "You... you're... I mean, I...." She stopped, giving her response some thought. "I guess.... thank you."

"You're welcome." Spirit looked back towards the theater, half-expecting to see Fang standing there, a satisfied grin on his face. But there was no sign of his scaly companion.

"No, it's more than that," Trixie decided. "You deserve more. Than my thanks, I mean. You've done me a monumental favor and shown me nothing but compassion since we met, despite everypony else treating me like trash. I wish I could do something for you, in return for all that you've done for me."

"Your gratitude is reward enough for me," Spirit insisted. "You've been through quite a few hardships recently and I don't want to impede you."

"No, you must...." Once more, Trixie cut herself off. "I'm sorry. This is new for me, these feelings of gratitude. Nopony's ever really given me a reason to feel thankful, whether they like my show or shower me with last week's groceries." She looked up at Spirit, smiling apologetically. "Look at me, the Great and Powerful Trixie, flustered and confused because she can't figure out how to thank a pony."

"Your words are thanks enough," Spirit guaranteed. "I only hope things will be better for you now."

"They won't," Trixie said in a bitter tone. "I'm grateful that you cleaned my home away from home, but ponies will still reject me and call me a fraud. My reputation has been tainted by my failure in Ponyville. I'll never be able to perform again." Tears welled up in the showmare's eyes and she lowered her head to hide them. Seeing Trixie still dispirited made Spirit feel like his work on the wagon was for naught. He needed to help her, entirely.

"Then take a break."

Trixie looked up, her eyes slightly reddened. "What?"

"Take a break from your performances. Stop putting on shows and take a week or two to get back your confidence."

"I... I can't do that," Trixie croaked. "I don't know what I would do. Show business has been my life for as long as I can remember. I can't just get up and leave it, not even to recuperate or wait for things to blow over. Besides, I don't have enough bits to last for a significant amount of time."

That's quite a predicament she's go.... wait. The only problem she has is financial? Spirit pulled at his saddlebags, having ignored its weight on his back most of the day, listening to the sound of clinking gold; the bit bags given to him by Twilight and Celestia. It seemed he'd be helping the needy as well as donating to the performer.

Spirit rummaged through his saddlebags with his magic, mixing the bits until he had counted a hundred into one bag, which he withdrew and bound tightly. He laid the bag of gold before Trixie. "Here. This should see you through for a spell."

Trixie gazed at the solitary bulging bag, not quite believing what she was seeing. The stallion who'd graciously watched her performance, politely heard her tale of woe and wordlessly cleaned her wagon was now giving her a generous amount of bits to leave her work behind. It was too much for the showmare and tears came to her eyes, this time from joy. "You're really giving all this to me?" she asked, unsure as to the reality of it all. "Don't you have something you'd rather spend it on?"

"There is nothing in this or any world worth more than helping a friend."

The prophet's deceleration brought on another surge of hope and assurance for the showmare. Great tears of joy splashed the plaza stones as Trixie gingerly picked up the bag of bits. "A friend," Trixie whispered, inaudible to all but the unicorn before her.

"Take the bits, Trixie, and take your well-deserved break. Maybe relocate to someplace quiet, a small village or a farm maybe."

"Yes... yes, that sounds like a very good idea." Trixie lit her horn and began folding up her wagon into its portable state. "I'll leave Canterlot right now, before somepony else can slander me."

With a little help from Spirit, Trixie was ready in minutes. All her things had been stowed away into the wagon, now hitched to her. Spirit was surprised to see the large wooden trailer roll along behind Trixie when she moved forwards, but was glad things were better now. "I wish you luck in your future endeavors, Trixie," he said, standing on the edge of the plaza.

Trixie released herself from her wagon's harness and approached the prophet. "I feel silly all of a sudden, but I never asked your name. I must know now, to properly thank you after everything you've done for me."

"Names are important." The prophet held out his hoof. "I'm Spirit Guide."

"You already know me, the Great and Powerful T......." The showmare stopped and slowly looked skyward, her eyes unfocused and distracted. "No. If I'm going to take a break from performing, then I will forego my stage name too." When she brought her gaze back down, it had become relaxed, as had her posture. "Thank you for helping me, Spirit Guide. Me, Trixie Lulamoon."

"A pleasure to help, Trixie Lulamoon."

The prophet and the magician shook hooves, a sign of gratitude and respect between the two. "Spirit Guide," Trixie said tentatively, "we may have only met a short while ago, through a seemingly trivial circumstance, but I feel as though we've grown close. I guess... I guess it's part of confiding in somepony, telling them things you don't normally share with other ponies."

"I suppose it is," Spirit agreed. "Well, this is goodbye then."

"Yes."

Trixie turned to her wagon but stopped and gave Spirit a quick hug, surprising both him and herself. Before either could say something in response, the light-blue mare had hitched herself back to her wagon and steadily cantered down the Canterlot street, her wagon jostling behind her. She mustered up one last burst of confidence and called over her shoulder. "Goodbye, Spirit Guide!"

"May you tread the path of the righteous, Trixie Lulamoon!" came the prophet's reply, echoing across the plaza.

The magician's wagon turned a corner and the sound of its wheels soon faded, replaced by the everyday bustle of the city. Spirit let out a sigh, reveling silently in his accomplishment as ponies began to stride across the plaza, as if Trixie had never been there taking up the space. All these ponies will act as though she never existed, but I'm not about to forget that unicorn in a hurry.

Indeed, Spirit was already pondering what Trixie would do. Would she take his advice in full and kick back in a small settlement, away from the bustling crowds and their judging glares? Travel into the mountains to rest, secluded from civilization? He had no way to be certain and hypotheses were all he had. Looks like I'll have to wait until I see her again, Spirit concluded. Of that, he was certain.

But for now, let's see where my scaly soul mate got to.

As he turned to the theater, Spirit realized it was getting late and the sun was beginning to set beyond the horizon under Celestia's watch. Shadows were cast long over the cobblestones. Ponies in neckties and bow ties started to walk out of the theater, some of them carrying cases of varying size and shape. Among the last to exit the grand structure was Fang, talking and walking abreast with a grey earth pony.

"And then he tells me 'You have half of them running around the place anyway," Fang was saying. "I mean, seriously, why the even?"

"It's certainly boggles the mind," the mare replied. At the plaza, she turned onto the road while Fang continued forward. "So I'll see you then?"

"Count on it. Until then, Octavia."

The earth pony Octavia strolled down the street, while Fang approached Spirit. "It's settled. I've got cello practice with the Canterlot Symphony cellist every afternoon after our time in the palace."

"It's been a while since you last played cello," Spirit reminded him.

"Heh, yeah." Fang tapped his chin. "I think the last time was, maybe, three days before we came to Equestria. Man, my music teacher would metaphorically kill me."

"You haven't had a music lesson in half a year; he'll never know."

"Even so, I'm sure Octavia will have something new to teach me while you're undergoing strenuous magic tutelage."

Spirit cracked a smile as he and Fang left the plaza and walked toward the School for Gifted Unicorns. "I'm sure it won't be too strenuous. The princess intends to get me up to the level of a unicorn student under her own watch. It will put me, at least, on par with Twilight."

"You've got waaay more raw power than her," Fang argued.

"All that power may not add up to much next to Twilight's lengthy learning. She's studied Equestrian magic far longer than I ever could and is better rooted in all things Equestrian."

"Surely you can catch up to her, right Spirit?"

"Sure I can. And don't call me Shirley."

Laughing at the easy joke, the pair entered the school campus and made their way to Twilight's old tower. The sun had set in the distance and only a few dim rays gave natural light to the land. Street lamps began to glow and lights went on in the homes of Canterlot. Spirit and Fang climbed up the tower and walked inside.

"We'd best wrap up with evening service, then get some rest," Fang suggested. "It's been a long day and I'm looking forward to tomorrow."

"I'm already looking forward to tonight," Spirit announced, laying down his saddlebags.

"Going for another moonlit midnight jaunt with nesikhat halevana?"

"I consented to helping Luna so as long as I'm nearby, to help protect the dreams of ponykind from the manifestations. It's serious, Fang; a person's mind is their safe haven, one of the few unavailable to almost anyone. But if the manifestations, the most hell-bent harm-intent creatures in the universes, gain access to it—"

"Yeah yeah, disaster of biblical proportions, burning hailstones coming down from the skies, rivers and seas splitting, three days of darkness, mortal sacrifices, wolves and lambs living together – mass hysteria." Fang poured himself a cup of water. "Seen it before, don't need to see it again. You have fun with that; I'll be sure to keep busy on the reality side of things."

"Glad to hear."

"Now let's end the day on a grateful note with some prayer."

With legs locked together as angels, the two travelers began the evening service to cap an exciting day. As they chanted and swayed, they thought of what else would grab them throughout their stay in the capital, what other adventures and dangers lay in store for them. Only time would tell.