To Be Great and Powerful

by A bag of plums

Chapter 1 - The Usual Spot

Trixie Lulamoon sighed forlornly to herself as she trudged down the slope towards the foothills of the Kingdom of Canterlot. Her rucksack weighed heavily on her shoulders; she had not taken the time to go back to her home and change after classes.

Trixie was clad in the uniform of Celestia and Luna’s Academy for Young Sorcerers; a black, long sleeved top with golden epaulettes and a red checkered skirt. Feeling the wind caress her slender legs, she passed the main gates to the mountain city and wound her way down the well-trodden track to the foothills. It would take about half an hour to get to her destination, but Trixie was in no rush.

Rather than focusing on the cool autumn afternoon, Trixie’s mind was back at the academy, earlier that day.

Brushing aside a wayward lock of her pale cerulean hair, Trixie mulled over the class that had taken place not two hours ago. It had been a lesson in harnessing magic to put a protective barrier over objects to protect them. Of course, the instructors had asked one of the Rainbooms to demonstrate the standard that they were supposed to work towards.

The Rainbooms. Trixie clenched her teeth. The seven most talented girls in the school, when it came to magic. Their magical power was unparalleled in the entire academy, and Headmistress Celestia made sure everyone knew it. She never hesitated to show them off to any visitors who came to the school, especially to upcoming and potential new students.

Trixie scoffed at that. As if any new student had a chance in Tartarus of being on the same level as the Rainbooms. They were the perfect pupils. Powerful, natural mages, and even talented enough to make up the student council and the school’s official band.

A chill breeze ruffled Trixie’s hair and clothing as she approached one of the many orchards that made up most of Canterlot’s lower tiers. However, instead of seeing the swathes of fruit-bearing trees, her gaze was locked onto the tops of her shoes and the few feet of ground that lay ahead of them.

The day’s lesson had not gone well. Not for lack of effort on her part, though. Trixie’s skills just didn’t lie in very many of the academy-approved activities. Her protection spell had been faulty, prompting the instructor to give her extra homework to practice with it.

Extra homework… Trixie mulled inside her head unhappily. More work on top of practicing her own brand of magic.

Putting such unpleasant thoughts out of her mind for now, the teenage magician-in-training hitched her bag higher on her shoulders and took a deep breath of the cool air. She liked coming down this way after a rough day at school. Trixie turned left down a dirt trail that wove between a passel of apple trees. Once she was a good ways in, Trixie turned to the left, where there was a sizable Rhododendron shrub. She reached out and pulled the greenery aside, revealing a seldom used nature trail.

Trixie ambled down this trail, which wound between many trees and overhanging ivy, until she reached her target destination. The path opened onto a tall, grass covered cliff that overlooked one of Canterlot’s rivers and an orange tree orchard.

Taking off her rucksack, Trixie sat herself down on the grass and reached out with her right hand to a nearby apple tree. Her teeth clenched with the effort and concentration, a weak, pink magical aura formed around one of the ripe, red fruits, tugging it from its leafy perch. The apple floated unsteadily towards Trixie, and she allowed herself a smile.

Then the magic flickered out and the apple fell onto the grass.

Making a small noise of frustration, Trixie got up and retrieved the apple before sitting back down, feeling the upset emotions from school threaten to come rushing back.

Sitting back down, Trixie took a bite of the apple and chewed it slowly. It was sweet and crunchy and helped to calm her nerves. She liked to sit at this spot and eat apples whenever she was upset or stressed.

Trixie had been coming here more and more often as of late.

She was now in her final year at the Academy for Young Sorcerers, and that worried her greatly. In less than a year, she would graduate and have to find a job that suited her magical caliber. Which, she knew was severely lacking in many regards; the apple was proof of that.

Trixie took another bite of the fruit. There was no denying that unless she shaped up spectacularly in this final year, she would find herself in some kind of third rate job as a fourth rate mage. She clenched her hand around the apple.

It wasn’t that she was bad at everything. Trixie had a relatively good grasp on prestidigitation, and using that, she had made a comfortable place for herself among the illusionists in the school. However, she was painfully aware that card tricks and changing the colors of handkerchiefs wasn’t really a viable skill in the workforce of Canterlot, or any of the surrounding settlements either. That, and she lacked raw power. Her tricks were just that: tricks. When she changed a rabbit into a dove, she was merely swapping one animal out for another, not performing a transfiguration spell like she had seen other students do.

Sighing with dejection, Trixie finished her apple and weighed the core in her hand. She frowned, willing the magic inside her to change it into something like a bird, or a precious stone. A soft pink glow surrounded the apple core and it began to sparkle. Then it changed into a swarm of black-shelled beetles.

Trixie shrieked and whipped her hand down instinctively, scattering the insects everywhere. One flew down the front of her uniform’s blouse, prompting another hysterical shout from the young magician.

Squirming at the sensation of the beetle’s tiny legs tickling her skin, Trixie tore off her top and threw it aside, then seized the offending insect and hurled it off the cliff. Breathing heavily, Trixie pulled her blouse back on slowly and fell backwards onto the soft grass.

Another failure, then. Trixie allowed her arms to rest on the grass as she pouted. Was it all pointless? She had practiced day in and day out to get better at magic, and she was still no closer to her goal, let alone becoming great and powerful like the Rainbooms.

“What I would do to be great and powerful…” Trixie mumbled.

She lay like this for an indeterminate amount of time, until the sun began to dip down toward the western horizon. She pushed herself up laboriously and let out a long breath. She had better get back home and start fixing dinner, unless she planned on sneaking more apples.

Trixie had just looped her rucksack around her shoulders and she cast one last longing look off the cliff, wanting to take in the view one last time before the long walk back to her place.

As she did so, a faint flash of light from the orange tree fields below caught her attention.

“Huh?” Trixie did a double take at the spot. It had looked magical in origin, and not of the sort that would be found in an orange farm.

She kept looking, and was rewarded with the sight of another flash, accompanied by tiny shapes and silhouettes of people moving around amongst the trees. Orange thieves? Probably not, but Trixie could tell there was something odd going on down there. Then a flash of orange flame blasted out and Trixie could see that this was worth investigating. She almost wanted to go back to the city to call the guards, but something gave her pause. If she could get down there first, and see what was going on, she might be able to help, or at least, be able to relay a more complete account to the city watch. Perhaps she might even learn something to give her an edge back at school.

Trixie turned and ran back down the trail, not knowing that this was going to change her life forever.

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Trixie sprinted down the path, almost twisting her ankle on an exposed root. Recovering, she continued to hurry down the hill towards the orange orchard as fast as her feet could carry her. She passed a farmer on the way down, who scratched his head at the schoolgirl’s rapid pace. Normally people dressed like her would stay up in the city districts of Canterlot. What was she doing running down this way?

Trixie could feel her breath hitching as she skidded to a halt outside the orange orchard. The gate to get inside was locked, but she pointed at it with her finger and the lock glowed pink and then came undone. Prestidigitation did come in handy at times. She pulled the gate open and went inside.

By now the sun was already halfway set, and was casting long shadows around the orchard. It was a spacious area, but Trixie prided herself on having a good sense of direction. She could remember just where the magic flashes she had seen had come from.

As she got closer, she could hear more sounds, shouting and grunting, as well as the signature zaps and whooshes of what Trixie suspected was magic.

Then a bolt of fiery orange energy blasted past Trixie’s face and suspicion turned into confirmation. She recoiled from the attack and fell over, hitting her head on a tree trunk. Trixie shook the stars from her eyes and raised her head to look.

There were four figures standing a short distance away, three of them wearing robes with some kind of crest on them forming a rough triangle around the fourth, who looked to be a young man about Trixie’s age who was wearing a dark cloak. As she watched, one of the robed people raised their hands and a blast of orange light lanced out at the young man, who dove to the side to dodge it. A flurry of pink-rimmed blue flames erupted around the young man’s fist and he dived towards his attacker, punching them in the chest. The robed person flew back and slammed into a tree, cracking the trunk and making leaves rain down.

Trixie gasped. She had never seen magic like that before.

Without missing a beat, the cloaked mage transferred his attention to his other two assailants. That was when Trixie noticed something strange. The young man’s left arm was hooked around what looked like a shoebox-sized wooden chest that he held close to his body. The other two people raised their arms, and a hail of ice darts flew towards their opponent. He tried to block it, holding out his hand to perform a shield spell. A half-sphere of blue magic stopped the ice shards, and once the shower of deadly fragments stopped, he dropped the shield and slashed his hand down. A crescent of silver energy burst from his fingertips.

Trixie watched the battle in awe. She had never seen magic like this back at the academy, and she wished she could ask about the spells that were being flung about.

Just as the young man finished despatching the second robed figure, he turned to face the third enemy. Pink-tinged azure fire flared up in his free hand, but then the first mage who had been thrown into the tree suddenly sat up and whipped their arm in an arc. A dark green streak of light shot out and split into a dozen smaller shooting stars.

Trixie was sure the young man would drop the chest to defend himself, but he did nothing of the sort. The flurry of green bolts hit him in the back and he fell forward on to the ground with a cry, smoke rising from his prone form. There was a crak as the wooden chest hit a stone in the ground, cracking its casing slightly so that a faint glow shone out.

Trixie looked on in horror as the first and third robed mages began to walk towards the fallen youth, dark orange energy growing in the palms of their hands. Trixie had no doubt in her mind that they were going to kill that young man, and she couldn’t let that happen.

Without really thinking, the schoolgirl stepped out from behind her hiding place and shouted, “Hey! You!” And pointed her fist at the nearest robed figure, index and little fingers extended.

Self-defense class, please don’t fail me now!

A tiny bead of yellow light flickered into existence between Trixie’s fingers, floating there for a split second before shooting out and hitting the closest robed mage in the chest. There was a thunderous detonation as the shockwave spell threw Trixie’s target off their feet and up into the air before coming down with a crash.

A disbelieving grin crossed Trixie’s face. I did it. I actually cast a spell without having to psych myself up.

The last robed mage looked at Trixie, who gulped as both their palms were raised, flickering with orange light. She readied another shockwave spell, but she knew that by the time she channeled one, the mage would have already cast their own spell.

Trixie closed her eyes and turned her head away, only to hear a heavy thud! She cracked open one eye.

The young man was standing there behind the fallen body of the robed mage, holding the chest that he had used to smash his enemy over the head with. He panted and wheezed before sinking down onto one knee.

Now that all three assailants had been taken care of, Trixie could see them better. The symbol on the front of their robes looked like an old-fashioned bell with two curved, horn-like shapes on either side; she could not remember seeing this sigil before. Their hoods prevented Trixie from seeing their faces.

Taking her attention off the strange emblem, the young sorceress went over to the young man. He was holding the wooden chest close, like a mother might hold her child. He staggered to his feet, brushing locks of dark hair from his icy blue eyes.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his speech punctuated with gasps for breath. “They would have… killed me if you hadn’t come along.”

He wavered and fell forward, with Trixie running up to catch him before he hit the ground. His back was dotted with burn marks and there were numerous smaller cuts on his body that looked recent; there was blood running down from his hairline and over one eye. But what caught Trixie by surprise was that sticking out slightly from under his mop of hair, were pointed ears. And according to her lessons on the peoples of Equestria, that only meant one thing.

“You… You’re… a Kirin,” Trixie breathed in amazement. “My name is Trixie Lulamoon, who are you?”

The Kirin glanced at Trixie, as if trying to study her. Then at last he sighed and fell into the schoolgirl’s trembling arms. The wooden chest poked her in the ribs but she didn’t care.

“My name is Winter Frost,” he said. “The last free knight of the Murian Isles.”

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Comments

[Crimson Bolt]

Interesting start. Always happy to see a Trixie story.