> Makeshift Heroes
>  by Biplane
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Setting Up For the Oakville Acorn Festival
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	On the far edge of Equestria lies a great, ancient oak forest, with trees as big around as houses, and a canopy that stretches almost unbroken for miles. Situated in this sea of trees, at the end of one of the more remote rail lines, is one of the most distant villages in Equestria: Oakville. Here, houses are as often carved directly into trees as they are built out of lumber, and when the acorns fall, they fall like rain. Just across the border is a mountain range too high even for pegasi to cross, and unexplored wilderness beyond.	

Despite its distance from Canterlot, it is a populous and calm village, without much of the frontier excitement normally found in border settlements. The ponies here make a conscious effort to be more "civilized" than the like of those who live in towns like Appleoosa.

All in all, it is a little piece of central Equestria, out here on the border in an ocean of green trees.

A good place, say, for an entertainer with a bad past to make a new start.

The home of a great flyer, who missed out on being a Wonderbolt, and never learned the lesson of why.

And, just recently, the final resting place of a broken-down contraption whose presence had been a plague to every town it had thus far visited: an apple-cider-making monstrosity on wheels.

And approaching this town under Celestia's sunset, tiny against the backdrop of vast Equestrian plains quickly beginning to give way to trees, is a train on a lonely set of tracks, a pony with a smokestack cutie mark at the engine controls, and a pony with a shovel cutie mark feeding the boiler fire. This is a royal train, decked out in Equestrian national regalia. And its cargo is Princess Twilight Sparkle.


. . .
 

"This is lame," Rainbow Dash said.

Rainbow Dash and her five best friends were sitting in a sleeper car on the outbound train from Ponyville. Rainbow stared glumly out the window at the passing scenery.

"Oh, Rainbow, don't be like that. This'll be fun! I've never been to Oakville before!" said Twilight Sparkle, who stared out the window at the passing scenery with interest. Twilight Sparkle was interested in everything.

"Well I have. There's nothing there. Why did the Princesses," she stopped, glancing sidelong at the still-recently-crowned Princess Twilight Sparkle, who was already looking annoyed, "I mean, uh, why did the other Princesses have to send us here? I've got training to do!"

Twilight rolled her eyes, affecting her most long-suffering look. "I've told you a million times, Rainbow, we're here representing the Princesses for the Acorn Festival. It's a very important event in this part of Equestria, and the Princesses visit every year. They just couldn't make it this time."

"I can't wait to see all the squirrels!" Fluttershy piped in in with quiet excitement, beaming. "This is a big time of the year for them, you know."

Applejack and Rarity, the farm-mare and the fashionista, were both finding themselves, meanwhile, in the somewhat uncommon position of both agreeing with Rainbow Dash.

"Ah hope this won't take too awful long, Twi'. Ah'm always happy to help, o' course, but it's just, applebuck season's comin' up, and there's a lot Ah gotta do ta get ready," Applejack drawled.

"...And though I'm positively certain that the fashions in Oakville will be exciting," Rarity continued, her voice clearly betraying she thought the opposite to be the case, "I simply must return to my orders before too long. My customers are being quite patient with me while I'm undertaking royal duties," she tossed her mane a bit there, plainly savoring the idea of having "royal duties" a bit more than necessary, "And I'd like to thank them for that by not having them wait too terribly long."

"Really, girls, it will be fine! We just put in an appearance on behalf of Princess Celestia, make sure everything goes off without a hitch, enjoy the food and go home! Nothing could be easier! It'll be fun!" Twilight said, trying to smile reassuringly, and not quite succeeding.

It seemed she was trying to convince herself more than anypony else, and it wasn’t working. She was plainly nervous. Her lip quivered a bit. Her voice broke a little, "I'm glad you're all here with me. I'm so nervous about this, I don't think I can tell you what it means to me to have you girls at my side," hints of tears were in Twilight's eyes, and hints of nervous anxiety were in her face.

Rainbow Dash sighed, then walked over to Twilight, patting her friend on the back. "Okay, okay, Egghead. No need to get sappy. We'd never leave you hangin', you know that."

Rarity and Applejack followed suit, each giving Twilight a reassuring hug. "We're here for ya, Twi'. All of us. Ain't nothin' can ever change that," said AJ.

"Indeed! Don't worry yourself, darling. You'll do splendidly!" Rarity said.

"Of course you will, Twilight. You’ll do wonderfully!" Fluttershy said, joining the group hug.

Pinkie Pie's hoof rolled off her bed, her mouth hanging open with a thin line of drool rolling down her cheek. She snored loudly. "Heh! Pinkie says the same goes for her!" Dash said, laughing.

Twilight felt better. Being in the middle of a big, huggy pile of friends went a long way to settling her nerves.

Zecora walked into the sleeper from the dining car, carrying an open bag of potato chips, munching on a few. She stopped mid-munch as she entered the sleeper and took in the pile of hugging ponies. She stared.

The pile of hugging ponies stared back. Awkward silence.

Zecora reached for a chip and popped it into her mouth. "...Seems I missed a thing or two. I don't remember a pony-pile when I left you," she said, smiling wryly.

Sheepishly, the huggy friends broke up into individual ponies, blushing a little bit. Pinkie's snores continued.

"They were trying to cheer me up," Twilight said, "I guess I'm pretty nervous about this whole 'first real big Princess gig' thing."

Zecora smiled, "You'd be a fool not to be, but you'll impress, trust me."

"Thanks, Zecora, and thanks for coming along! I wasn't sure if you'd want to or not."

"The pleasure is mine, Twilight! I love to see all the sights! Equestria's far places to me, are nothing short of opportunity! Exotic ingredients to be found, in strange trees and on strange ground. I must admit though Twilight, I'm not sure why I was invited tonight?" Zecora rhymed.

"I thought it might be good for a zebra like you to see more of Equestria. Plus, I would be doing Ponyville a grave disservice if I didn't give its finest alchemist an opportunity to collect some ingredients!" Twilight said, "Plus plus, you're my friend too, and I'm really happy to have your support," she finished, blushing a little bit at the, as Rainbow might put it, "sappiness."

Zecora smiled widely. She felt a bit of a lump in her throat at Twilight's last statement. "It makes me so glad to have friends, it used to be that I was left to my own ends. I'm proud to know you, Twilight, but it's a bit late, so," Zecora yawned, "Goodnight."


. . .


"Trixie doesn't believe this!" Trixie said, throwing her hooves up in the air. Trixie could not believe this, if you can believe it. "The stage is a mess! How can Trixie put on a show worthy of Princess Celestia if the stage looks like this?!" It was true, there were streamers and spent fireworks on the stage, and garbage under the audience benches.

"Sorry, Trixie, but we haven't got enough ponies to go around," said Mayor Flax apologetically. He was a flaxen-colored (appropriate, no?) earth pony with a distinguished silver mane and tail. At the moment, he was looking disheveled and run down. Organizing an entire town to prepare a festival for royalty was hard work, and while he'd always been kind to Trixie since she had come here, he didn't have time for this right now. "You'll have to clean it up yourself. I'll be sure and send you some help as soon as we have some ponies free, but I don't expect that to be for a while."

"Clean it up myself?!" Trixie shouted. "But... but Trixie is the main performer! You expect Trixie to..." Trixie cut herself off. New town, new life, she reminded herself. "I'm... I'm sorry, Mayor, you're right. I'll get started."

Mayor Flax smiled reassuringly, “Thanks, Trixie. I promise I’ll get you some help as soon as I can find it. You may be new here, but your shows have been a wonderful addition to the town. I’ll do everything I can to show our gratitude. I don’t intend to leave you ‘hanging,’ as the young ponies say these days.” Trixie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The mayor labored under the delusion that he was “hip.” It was endearing, but occasionally cringe-inducing. Though she was honestly a bit touched that the town thought so much of her after just a few months. Of course... expressing such emotions did not come naturally to her.

The mayor looked at his clipboard, muttered something about “squirrel parade,” and promptly ran off. Oakville was kind of a weird town.

Having finally given up on the wagon after the... what was it? third? fourth? one had exploded in a ball of fire over the Everfree Forest (a long story, don’t ask), Trixie had opted to establish a permanent stage here in Oakville. She’d set it up some distance outside of town, where the woods were a little bit thinner. The stage appeared very simple, but hid a mechanically complex setup. It consisted of a wide, somewhat plain wooden stage, framed by two rows of red velvet curtains, bordered on all sides by complex fireworks launchers, and which housed underneath it a series of trap-doors and secret passages. In front of the stage were about twenty rows of benches, arranged on a slight incline so that ponies sitting in the back would be able to see over those sitting in front of them.

Under the stage were the many illusionary tools of her own design: a table she could use to “saw ponies in half,” tables of collapsable swords with which she might seemingly horribly skewer an unsuspecting audience volunteer, her “escape artist” collection of not-quite-regulation strait-jackets, and most impressive of all, her prized design: the “Wheel of Illusion.” 

She lived in a large tent (blue and purple, with stars on it, of course) set up behind the stage, though she hoped she might find better accomodations soon, she had nearly earned enough money to purchase a home, and had become nearly comfortable enough here to do so.

The various tricks and trapdoors were controlled by a series of levers situated underneath the stage, which Trixie could use her telekinesis to pull during the show. In truth, Trixie knew only a few actual magic spells here and there. She really was no great user of magic, so she made up for it in showmareship and ingenuity.

Though, of course, she had managed many great and powerful feats under the sway of the evil Alicorn Amulet, which had given her such a rush that the memory of it both excited and terrified her to this day. And for some inexplicable, bizarre reason it had given her at the time a massive distrust of... wheels? Trixie didn't understand it herself. Still, the Amulet was a mistake, and a big one. It haunted her nightmares, and she always wondered how much of how she had acted under its sway had been the Amulet, and how much of it had been her. She was afraid to know the answer.

Since moving to Oakville, where nopony had known her past, after another particularly embarrassing and unpleasant experience in Ponyville, Trixie had made an honest attempt to make up for past mistakes, and improve herself; to make herself into a better pony. She was having mixed results. She was still The Great and Powerful Trixie, after all. But at least there was effort, and progress. And at least her past couldn't find her all the way out here.

But after a couple of minutes of cleaning up her performance area, Trixie had had decidedly enough of it. Why, this work would be better suited to somepony far less valuable to the town's entertainment than she! And as luck would have it, she spied two lanky unicorn stallions ambling down the road past the stage, towards the town, levitating between them a single keg. They didn't look especially busy, or especially clever, so she called out to them, as sweetly as she knew how, "Hey! You two! How would you like to be in a magic show?"

The two turned, "Well, lookie here, brother o' mine, it's a magic show," said one, a tan pony with a bright red and white striped mane and tail. He was wearing a gaudy striped white and blue shirt, black bow tie and a straw hat. He looked and spoke exactly like a carnival barker.

"Why it surely is, brother o' mine, it surely is," said the other, identical save for a small red moustache on his upper lip.

"Yes. Yes. It's a magic show," Trixie said impatiently. Then, realizing that her biting, irritated tone was probably not going to win them over, she changed to what she thought was a more friendly one (not being an expert on such tones, it came out somewhere in the arrogant-condescending spectrum), "Oh, but if only Trixie had two clever, strapping stallions to help her get her stage ready for the show tonight! Why, Trixie could allow them to be part of her act, in front of Princess Celestia!" thinking quickly, Trixie added a winning eyebrow waggle at the end. Nailed it.

Smiling, and acting perfectly as if Trixie had not managed to make a complete mule of herself, the mustachioed unicorn turned to the other, "Say, Flim," he said, "Just the other day you were saying how you'd always wanted to be in a magic show, weren't you?"

"I was, Flam!" said Flim, catching on almost immediately, "It's always been my dream to get up on stage in a magic act!"

Trixie tapped her forehooves together and grinned, successfully (but barely) resisting the urge to cackle evilly. Old habits can be hard to break, you see. These fools will clean this mess up for me, and all I have to do is saw them in half or something. This is the perfect plan. Trixie thought to herself.

She did not know who she was dealing with here.

Flim and Flam, for their part, had mastered a sort of facade of oblivious excitement. It was one of the more sinister tools in their swindler arsenal that Trixie was unknowingly about to have unleashed upon her. "But brother," said Flam, his moustache twitching as his mouth turned into a seemingly thoughtful half-frown, "I don't see how we can find the time to clean the stage!"

"Shoot, that's right! The Mayor said we had to take this jug of cider to town hall! Why, there'd never be time to go there and back, AND clean up this lovely mare's stage!" Flim looked genuinely disheartened to be such a disappointment.

Ooo, lovely mare! Well, that’s true enough, Trixie reasoned. She was convinced: these were clearly ponies of excellent taste. Perhaps they weren't so dumb after all! "Oh, but my fine stallions! Trixie could take that little old barrel for you! Trixie would be delighted to help! It would be terrible to see your dreams of magic stardom dashed by a silly barrel of cider!"

Flim's eyes widened in a rather perfect imitation of awe, "Really, Miss Trixie? You'd do that for us?! Wow that is so... so very kind of you! Brother o' mine, let's help her, shall, we?"

"Why, of course, dear brother! Of course!" said Flam, moustache rising slightly as what resembled an excited, almost giddy smile broke underneath.

Hahaha, I take it back, these two are idiots! Though I must say, they do at least know know beauty when they see it, thought Trixie. "Thank you, er... Flim and Flam was it?"


. . .


The barrel was somewhat heavy, but one of the great things about being a unicorn was the wonderful telekinesis that came with the horn. Trixie barely broke a sweat during the trip, and got the barrel to its destination without much trouble after about a half-hour walk into town. 

Town Hall was bustling with activity. Rather like Twilight's library, the Town Hall of Oakville was a massive, ancient oak tree that had had a building carved into it. And it had never looked better. Decorations hung from the branches and from the windows and doors: bunting and streamers and tinsel and ribbons were everywhere. It looked fit for royalty, appropriately enough. About a dozen ponies were milling around outside Town Hall (Mayor Flax called it "The T.H.," because he thought he was "hip" like that), decorating and preparing the snack bar and setting up seating for the princess's big speech.

Trixie left the cider barrel (marked with a very faded "Flim & Flam's Cider" marking on the side) by one of the still-empty snack tables outside the main door to "The T.H." Turning around to head back, she stopped, and decided that she might as well have a sample of the stuff she'd brought such a long distance, first. It was only fair after all, she reasoned. Nopony would miss it, and she'd worked so hard!

Now, Trixie, on her travels, had once eaten garbage by mistake (it’s a long story, don’t ask), and it had been the single most vile thing that she had ever, ever tasted.

Until now.

Flim and Flam’s cider was an absolute revolution in the concept of vile. It was bilge. It was pond scum. It was a thousand textures, all of them variations on “slime.” It was all of these things and more. It was, to put a word to it, really quite bad.

Trixie spit her cider out on the ground, threw her mug on the ground, smashed it, then set fire to the remains with a flare of her magic. If she’d had any salt on her, she would have salted the earth.

Everypony working on town hall had stopped briefly to watch the display. Many of them decided right there not to try the cider.

Embarrassed and fuming, Trixie tried to regain her composure with an artful toss of her cape. Turning to stomp back up the road to her stage, her foot became tangled when a bit of her cape flew too far to one side, and she tumbled, head over hooves, into a heap on the side of the road.

A few chuckles here and there. A couple of stallions stopped what they were doing and moved to help her up. Nothing too serious. Could have been worse. Mostly just a bruised ego.

Nevertheless... Trixie’s ego was one of her most sensitive features.

Trixie’s cheeks burned as her face flushed, and she felt the beginnings of tears in her eyes. Biting her lip, fighting the tears, she got up and ran back down the road, leaving the surprised ponies at Town Hall feeling a little confused and guilty.

Don’t laugh at me! she thought furiously, her hooves pounding on the road. She could feel the traitorous tears break free and begin streaming down her cheeks as she ran past a number of confused ponies working on a roadside fence. She didn’t like this. Displaying weakness. Overreacting. It was neither Great, nor Powerful.

She ran until she reached her stage. Panting from the run, and struggling to regain her composure, she looked around, and noticed that the stage was still a complete mess. Maybe even a little worse than before. And there was no sign of Flim nor Flam.

She'd been had. They'd gotten her to do their job, and hadn't done hers in return. This did very little to improve her mood.

"What? Who would do something like this to Trixie?!" lamented the sobbing showmare, and she slumped to her haunches, alone, at the empty stage in the silent woods.


. . .


Lightning Dust bucked, kicking another rogue stormcloud out of the air. Weather Patrol in Oakville was easy. The entire town was under a heavy forest canopy, so they cared less than most towns did about their weather being “just so.” Of course, that meant that the weather team was correspondingly small, so when work did need to be done, there was enough of it to go around.

And nopony worked harder than Lightning Dust.

She was like a mare possessed. She worked with such driven focus and intensity and raw speed that she had been the only candidate suggested when it came time to vote for a new Weather Patrol Captain after Gull Wing retired. But she never paced herself. Many times she had worked herself dangerously close to exhaustion with long hours, or unnecessary extra work.

Lightning Dust didn’t really care about the Acorn Festival. Truthfully, she didn’t care about her work, either. She cared about being the best. No matter what she was doing, she wanted to be the best at it.

There was one other thing she had cared about, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. Something had gone wrong. They told her she wasn't good enough. She didn’t blame herself for it, of course. She was the best. She’d proven it again and again to herself, and to others. She kept on proving it.

She had had a poster on her wall, once. Autographed. It was of Spitfire, leading her Wonderbolts in a beautiful bomb-burst display. “Make your dreams come true. -Spitfire.” It had been her prized possession, and indeed it had become a sort of symbol to her of her goal in life. She wanted- no, she deserved to be a Wonderbolt.

The poster wasn’t there anymore.

Lightning Dust’s teeth gritted with... was it shame? embarrassment? disappointment? anger? ...whenever she thought of the day when Spitfire, the same pony who had signed her poster, the same pony who had told her to “Make her dreams come true,” the same pony who had inspired her to be who she was, had sent her away from Wonderbolts Academy, disgraced. “Too reckless.”

There was no such thing as “too reckless.”

Lightning Dust’s frown deepened. She tried not to think about that day. She tried to lose the memories in the now. She focused on her work. On being better. On proving how wrong they’d all been. She blasted through another cloud, her wings beating furiously, driving her onward. A yellow and teal lightning bolt streak trailed behind her.

Rainbow Dash had done this to her! I’m TWICE the flyer she is! Lightning Dust thought, angrily. I know why Spitfire listened to her! She’s buddies with Celestia! She saved the world! She won the Best Young Fliers’ Competition! YEAH, WELL I WOULD HAVE WON IF I’D BEEN THERE! I COULD HAVE SAVED EQUESTRIA! JUST BECAUSE I DON’T SPEND MY TIME PLAYING HOOVSIES WITH TWILIGHT SPARKLE DOESN’T MEAN I’M NOT THE BETTER FLIER!

“…That tree!” somepony was shouting at her. What now? Couldn’t they see she was trying to do her-

Lightning Dust slammed into the tree at an impressive velocity.

Was it a few minutes, or a few days before she opened her eyes, blinking away the haze? A fuzzy image of a pony was leaning over her, talking at her.

“Morm bum boo bahboi?” said the fuzzy pony image. It looked kind of like Mayor Flax, and it sounded kind of concerned.

“...Huh?” Lightning Dust shook her head, trying to clear it.

“I said, are you all right?” asked Mayor Flax. “You hit that tree pretty hard. I tried to warn you, but you were zoning out again.”

“Birds?” Lightning Dust grasped for words, her foggy mind finally grasping on the word for the sound she kept hearing. Yes. That was the sound. Birds. A rainbow of colorful birds, flying around her head.

Lightning Dust hated rainbows.

“No, there aren’t any birds around. They flew away when you slammed into the tree,” the mayor said, his brow furrowed. “You don’t look okay. I should go get a doctor.”

“No,” Lightning Dust said, pushing herself slowly to her hooves, “I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?” Mayor Flax wasn’t a pegasus, so he hadn’t had much experience with slamming into trees. Which, I mean, not that he was complaining. Seems like kind of a con to the whole "wings" thing, really.

“Yeah,” Lightning Dust shook herself off, fluffing her wings. “No big.”

“If you’re sure...”

“Have I ever been unsure about anything?” she said with a serious expression on her face.

Flax smiled, then laughed. “Not even once.” Well, she sure was acting like her usual self, at least. “Well, anyway, I was coming out here to check in and see how the weather was coming along, but it seems like you’re already almost done! You’re almost...” he checked his clipboard, “...Two hours ahead of schedule!”

“Yeah well, can’t have the princess getting rained on,” Lightning Dust said indifferently.

"Well, since you're so far ahead, would you mind helping Trixie get her stage ready for the show tonight? I'm sure she'd appreciate the help."

"Trixie?"

"Oh, you haven't met Trixie yet? Well, I suppose she has only been here a few months." That, and Lightning Dust did not spend too much time in town socializing. She was a bit too "intense" to attract much companionship. "You know the new stage outside of town?"

"Oh, yeah, I heard about it."

"That's hers."

"Okay, boss. On it." And she was gone, before Flax could even finish chatting.

"...Thank... you? Wow. That pony has got to learn to 'chill out' a bit. So serious!" And Flax wandered back into town, to see if those cider delivery ponies he'd met had arrived. They'd given him such a good deal!


. . .


Lightning Dust arrived at the stage to find it empty, and still pretty messy. Discarded trash everywhere, spent fireworks, oak leaves across the grounds... what had this "Trixie" been doing all this time?! "Hello?" she tried.

She heard a noise from the tent behind the stage. It may have been a sniffle. Lightning Dust landed and approached the tent slowly. She could hear somepony moving around inside. "Hello?" she said, once more, reaching for the tent flap.

Suddenly, a blue unicorn burst from the tent, clad in a cape and pointed hat. Lightning Dust gasped in surprise and almost fell backwards. "Greetings! The Great and Powerful Trixie welcomes you to her stage!" said the unicorn, rearing up on her hind legs and throwing her forehooves into the air.

Whoa. Uh. Okay. "Uh... yeah. The mayor sent me to help clean this place up. I'm Lightning Dust, the Weather Patrol Captain."

Trixie's brow furrowed a moment in thought. "I've heard of you. You're the pony that everypony around town says is 'reckless and unfriendly!'" Trixie smiled, proud of herself for having remembered. She still hadn't quite grasped that some things were never meant to be said to the pony they were said about.

Lightning Dust’s expression deepened into a frown. "Yeah, that's me," she said, barely above a growl. Then, impatiently, she barked, "So are we doing this or what? We haven't got much time and this place is a mess." Her wings fluffed in irritation.

Now it was Trixie's turn to frown. What did I say? "Yes, of course! Trixie desires help cleaning her dazzling stage! You would not believe how hard it is to find good help around here!”

Well, that was all Lightning Dust needed to hear. She didn’t waste any time. Step one: identify the problem: garbage under benches, debris and dust on the stage, fallen leaves everywhere. Step two: fix problem as quickly and with as much style as possible. In the space of a moment, Lightning Dust decided a small tornado would be ideal, and before Trixie had so much as a second to think or react, Lightning Dust was off the ground. Flaring her wings for a moment, while Trixie looked on with a confused expression, Lightning Dust started pumping her wings, whipping herself around in tight, ever-faster circles.

Almost before Trixie realized what Lightning Dust was doing, a tornado had already started to form.

“Wait!” Trixie tried to say. “Don’t! Trixie’s tent!” but her voice was drowned out by the roar of the wind.

The tornado did as intended: it picked up all of the spent fireworks debris, all of the garbage, all of the dust and leaves... and then Lightning Dust noticed the tent bending crazily in the wind, as the unicorn tried desperately to keep it intact and in place with her magic. “Oh. Oh! Whoops!” Lightning Dust said, and stopped. Beating her wings furiously, she tried to send the tornado away on a safe path with a few gusts.

At first, it looked like it was going to work, but just as the tornado began to leave the area, Trixie's poor tent bent sharply, and there was a tearing noise as the canvas was stretched past its limit. One of the tent poles was pulled out of the ground, and ripped a hole through another part of the canvas on its way out, shooting off after the tornado as it fled.

In its wake, the tornado left a sad, torn, slumping tent, and two heaving ponies. The sudden change in air pressure as the tornado left the area shook a large amount of leaves free from the surrounding oak trees, carpeting the area.

Lightning Dust looked around. That... hadn’t worked as she’d intended. Her eyes met the unicorn’s, and she felt a pang go through her heart.

Trixie stared at her home. What was left of it. The front entry flap had been torn completely off, and of the two front tent poles, the one that remained was bent almost back on itself, leaving the front half of the tent to slump over the torn hole where the entrance had once been. Her precious cape had been torn badly by the wind, leaving ragged edges, and a couple of the patched-on stars hanging half-off. Her hat was laying some thirty feet away in the dirt, almost completely covered by leaves.

Trixie looked back at Lightning Dust. She had enough pride to fight the tears, but she was too saddened to be truly angry. “I have a show to give tonight,” Trixie said, flatly.

“I... I’m so-”

“I have a show to give tonight!” Trixie shouted. “Princess Celestia herself is going to watch me perform! This is my chance to... what am I going to do now?!” Trixie must have been flustered indeed, for she was forgetting to refer to herself in the third person.

Lightning Dust looked pained, “I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t care! This tent and these clothes are all I own! What were you thinking?!”

“Look, I’ll help fix it! No more tornados! I’m still fast enough to clean-”

“No!” Trixie said, fighting to regain her composure, “No. Please, just leave Trixie alone. Trixie must... start getting ready for her show.”

“Are you sure...?” Lightning Dust said, not sure what else to say. Her whole body was stiff with embarrassment, and that was one of the worst feelings in the world for this particular pegasus pony. She felt incredibly stupid, and that was another.

“Just go. Now,” and Trixie used her telekinesis to lift the front half of the tent, bent her head down, and stepped underneath with as much dignity as she could muster.


. . .


Lightning Dust flew off, an annoyed and angry look etched into her features. What kind of idiot lives in a tent, anyway? Geez. And so what if it didn’t work! It was still worth a shot! I was trying to help! Some ponies were so ungrateful! In fact... all ponies were so ungrateful, come to think of it!

The thoughts running through her head were a defense, of sorts. Angry thoughts to block out the voice in her head that, today, was louder than usual. The voice that always said, “They’re right about you, you know. All of them.”

“Shut up!” Lightning Dust found herself saying out loud. “It isn’t my fault!”

“Reckless,” said the voice.

“Shut up!”

“Angry.”

“No! It’s not me! It’s everypony else!”

“A failure.”

That was the one. That was the one that did it.

It was a very good thing that the forest Oakville was located in was so large. The treetops stretched to the horizon in most directions. So it was easy to find a tall tree with a sturdy branch far, far away from where any other ponies could see, so that nopony could see the toughest, brashest, most confident, most abrasive pony in town break down.
> Welcome, Princess... Uhh...
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Meanwhile, in a particularly shadowy corner of the woods, a mysterious cloaked pony meets discreetly with five others. Under a forehoof, he holds a mysterious, rectangular package, wrapped in twine and brown paper.

“So, the matter is settled? We are agreed on how to proceed?” said the cloaked pony.

“Not quite!” said one of the other five, a gray earth pony, taking a step toward the cloaked pony. His voice was raspy. “There is still the matter of payment! If you want us to put ourselves in danger for you, then what is it that you are going to do for us? We were promised something that would be ‘worth our while!’ We would like to judge that for ourselves!”

From under the hood, the cloaked pony’s mouth split into a thin, toothy grin. “Oh, I think you will agree with me, that these are indeed worth a great deal, particularly to the likes of you.” And the mysterious pony produced from his saddle bag a half-dozen small necklaces, each adorned with a small gold pendant.

The gray pony frowned, but didn’t quite hide the flash of recognition in his eyes. “Trinkets! Worthless! Is this a joke?!” he said, almost convincingly.

The hooded pony laughed in reply, it was a deep laugh that sounded… somehow, indescribably, subtly… strange, like a fraction of an echo. “Why, my good friends! These are amulets that will prevent the most common detection spells from working on you! Surely they would have immense value to the right pony… or… perhaps… to the right something else,” he growled with another thin grin.

The gray pony’s eyes widened momentarily in surprise. “Then, you know?! How…?” He and his friends backed away from the hooded pony a couple steps, looking around them in panic for an ambush or a trap.

The hooded pony held up a placating hoof. It was hard to tell in the shadows, but it looked strange, as if it was covered in black streaks, but not like a zebra. “Be still, my friends. Of course I know. In fact, I’m rather counting on your… unique skills. We should be safe here. Why not drop your disguises?”

The five other “ponies” looked at each other for a moment, silently trying to decide if they should listen to the strange pony. Then, one by one, they disappeared in puffs of green fire, replaced by black, chitinous creatures, vaguely pony-shaped, with long, fanged teeth, curved horns sprouting from their foreheads, gossamer, insectile wings, and several holes through their legs and hooves, not unlike swiss cheese.

Changelings.

The hooded pony’s smile was wider now. “Good. Good. It seems that you are indeed going to be useful to me. As, I am sure, these will be to you and your kind,” the hooded pony hoofed the pendants over to the head changeling.

One of the changelings in the back, the smallest of the five, piped up. “Hey, how do we know those work?!”

“They work,” said the head changeling, not breaking eye contact with the hooded pony. “I’ve seen these before. They used to be in the hive’s possession, before they were lost during the invasion of Canterlot. ...But how did you get these? Who are you, pony?”

The hooded pony did not answer. Instead, he held the wrapped rectangle out to the changeling. “As we discussed, the job is simple: in this packaging is a magical artifact. A painting. All who gaze upon it will become trapped inside if the magic words are spoken. Included inside is a parchment with the words written upon it. When the words are spoken a second time, all inside the painting will be released, and all who gaze upon it at that time will become trapped, and so on. You are to trap the Princess Twilight Sparkle and her five friends inside this painting.”

The small changeling spoke up once more. “I don’t like this. I don’t trust this pony. This doesn’t feel right. How do we even know this painting works? This is stupid, we shouldn’t be messing with this kind of stuff!”

The pony and the other changelings looked at him, scowling. “Well,” said the head changeling, “We could try it out!”

The small changeling’s eyes opened wide as the other changeling tore the paper off the painting.


. . .


“Flim,” said Flam, he-of-the-moustache, as the two walked through the woods. 

They were headed away from that showmare’s stage and toward the place in which their Super Easy Cider Squeezy 6000 had broken down last week. The two had set up a sort of camp there, while they tried to get the contraption running again. It was always wise to have your escape set up and running before you were run out of town. That was just good business.

“Hmm?” said Flim, he-of-the-not-having-a-moustache, “What is it, brother o’ mine?”

“I don’t know if I like that we stole all of this.”

Flim looked aghast. “Why, brother, we’re not thieves! We’re swindlers! Why, we’re businessponies!”

Flam looked behind him, at the various pieces of equipment levitating behind them that they had taken from underneath the stage. He waved his hoof at them, “But… we just took it. We didn’t even swindle.”

Flim raised his eyebrows, “Brother o’ mine, you know what it sounds like? It sounds like the rubes have gotten inside your head! Don't you remember? The world is an eat-or-be-eaten place! Everypony out there has it in for you and me, brother, you better believe it! We’re just doing what we have to to keep ahead of them! Besides, brother, I remember trading a keg of cider for all of this, don’t you?”

Flam ordinarily would have agreed. Today, he did not. “Still… that wasn’t actually how it happened, Flim.”

“Yes, it was.”

“No, it-”

“Yes, it was! This isn’t like you at all! We need these parts to fix the 6000, do you want to be stuck here when this town inevitably turns on us like all the others? Brother, what is the matter with you today?”

“I don’t know, Flim. I don’t know.”

“Well, don’t you worry! You’ve still got me, and I’ve still got you! Doldrums or no, Flam has his Flim, and Flim has his Flam, and we’ll take this world on together, you and I! Us against them!” The un-moustached brother threw a forehoof around his be-moustached brother, and smiled at him.

Flam smiled in return, “You’re right, brother! You’re- what was that?!” he said, as a bright flash from the woods off their path distracted him.

The two met each other with a gaze, then cautiously approached, “Hello out there?” Flim called.

“Ponies are coming! Scatter!” rasped a voice. The two reached the shadowy clearing just in time to see the underbrush rustle in four directions and, for an instant, what looked like a scowling pony vanish completely into shadow, but that had to be a trick of the light.

Flim and Flam looked at each other, looked back at the empty clearing, and shrugged, then carried on with their new supplies.


. . .


It was late afternoon, and the train was pulling into town.

To say there was a “flurry of activity” around the platform didn’t do it justice. There was a veritable blizzard of activity. Ponies running this way and that, preparing this or that. Ceremonial thus and such. Pomp and circumstance. Bands and revellers. Acorns.

Acorn bread. Acorn pancakes. Acorn muffins. Salads with acorn garnish. Salted acorns. Fried acorns. It wasn’t exactly Sweet Apple Acres, but there was a huge variety of local recipes on display nonetheless, each pony hopeful that their beloved concoction would draw the eye of the princess herself.

Mayor Flax stood smiling at the center of it all, waiting to greet the Princess as she disembarked. Beside him were the ponies he had personally selected to be part of the greeting committee, the ponies he believed were among the town’s most outstanding ponies.

He was proud of his choices. They represented the best and the brightest of the town under his charge, and for the most part, they understood and appreciated the honor of being selected. He looked over them all, nodding to himself. This is going to be perfect. Everything is going "super groovy!" he thought to himself, rather optimistically, if you ask me.

Among them was the Weather Patrol Captain, of course, and the town's finest entertainer, naturally. Ordinarily, Lightning Dust would have been largely indifferent to an honor such as this, and Trixie would have been revelling in the glory of it, but this had been a rough day for each of them. The two pointedly did not look at each other. Flax did not notice this.

Lightning Dust was looking forward to an opportunity to remind everypony (and, mostly, herself) that she was important. That she was the best. Being in the presence of royalty could hardly hurt. It wasn’t her fault that stupid magician couldn’t clean her own stage or own a proper house! It wasn’t her fault that everypony in this town thought she was unfriendly! It wasn’t her, it was them!

Trixie couldn't quite bring her spirits up. Of course it was fitting that The Great and Powerful Trixie greet the royal party. She told herself this. She wore a comfortably familiar face of arrogant confidence. And she definitely wasn't nervous about putting on a show for Princess Celestia herself, no, not all all, no way. But all she could think of was what was left of her tent, her humble home. She also wished she could have worn her dazzling cape and hat, but they were far too tattered. The wretched cider taste was still in her mouth. Oh, it had been a rotten day. She bit her lip as she waited.

There was an excited buzz in the air as the train made its slow approach to the platform. Flags flew from the engine, colorfully proclaiming the train's royal passenger to all onlookers. Screeching and squeaking noises came from the wheels of the train as the brakes brought the train to a slow, controlled stop.

Mayor Flax stepped up on a small box. Showtime. “Fillies and gentlecolts! Welcome! I know you’re all very 'pumped' for the festivities, so without further ado, I hereby decree this year’s Oakville Acorn Festival officially started!”

A cheer rose up from the assembled crowd.

“And I know you are all very excited to welcome our beloved, benevolent monarch, Princess Celestia!” he said dramatically, throwing a hoof in the direction of the train carriage door.

The door flew open, the crowd cheered with delight, confetti and streamers flew ...and Princess Twilight Sparkle stepped out, smiling awkwardly.

Trixie’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“Uhh…” said Mayor Flax, in the moment of dead silence that followed.


. . .


Half a world away, Princess Luna and Princess Celestia of Equestria were seated in box seats at an opera house in the cultural center of the Griffin Kingdom’s capital city. They were there as special guests of the griffin ambassador to Equestria, viewing the most celebrated griffin opera. 

They both hated it. Griffin opera was… an experience, shall we say?

But, they were both experienced diplomats, and knew that one did not simply refuse a gift from a trusted ally. So they sat, with grace, wearing masks of quiet delight.

“I hope Twilight is having more fun than we are at the Acorn Festival, dear sister,” Celestia muttered to Luna almost under her breath, thoughts of acorn pancakes dancing deliciously in her head.

“Oh, is she attending in your place this year? I admit I had wondered if she was going to go.”

A nearly-imperceptible look of confusion crossed Celestia’s features, replaced by a similarly-nearly-imperceptible look of anxiety. “What do you mean, ‘you had wondered?’ I asked you to send Mayor Flax a letter explaining the situation!”

Luna looked askance at Celestia briefly, quickly allowing her look of indignant surprise to pass. “No you did not, sister.”

Below them, the griffin diva screeched a piercing song that would make most ponies’ ears rupture from agony.

Celestia pursed her lips. “I’m pretty sure I did, Luna.”

“No. No you definitely did not.”

“Hmm. Are you sure? I thought for sure I did… Then, who told them to expect Twilight and not me?”

Luna barely-perceptibly shrugged.


. . .


Twilight smiled nervously. Twilight waved nervously. Twilight looked out at all the eyes looking back at her, some of them were still excited, but most were confused. A few were even annoyed. Well, this is awkward, she thought. She had thought Oakville would have been notified ahead of time that it was her, and not her mentor, who would be visiting for the festival. She must be such a disappointment to these ponies. Her smile grew strained at the thought.

Shaking himself from his stunned state, Flax smoothly transitioned into an “Er… Rather, Princess Twilight Sparkle! My mistake, terribly sorry everypony, how 'uncool' of me!”

And then Twilight’s eyes caught a glimpse of purple eyes, and a blue coat. She turned, cocking her head to the side. “Trixie?” was the first thing Princess Twilight Sparkle said at the Oakville Acorn Festival, which was a mistake on her part in so many ways.

Mayor Flax was already thrown off, but this threw him even further. “Oh, uh, you two know each other? I had no idea!” he sputtered, running a hoof through his increasingly frazzled mane.


. . .


You must be kidding me. Her? Her?! Here?! Where do I have to go to get away from this pony?! Trixie thought to herself with no small degree of agitation, as the mayor corrected himself.

And there before Trixie was indeed Twilight Sparkle again. Trixie had heard about Twilight’s ascent to princesshood, of course. Who in Equestria hadn’t? But actually seeing her one-time rival here, face to face, in full Princess regalia, with those… those wings. It definitely hit her pretty strongly. She had come to Oakville, the farthest, tiniest, most distant corner of Equestria, for a fresh start. To escape her troubled past. Yet here was her past anyway, stepping down off the train, wearing a tiara and those wings and that insufferably goofy smile. She found herself scowling involuntarily.

So perfect. Perfect life. Perfect friends. Perfect teacher. Perfect smile. Perfect! Trixie’s frown deepened. How many hours had Trixie practiced her tricks? How many hours had she spent in front of a mirror, trying to make herself presentable for her shows? How much effort had Trixie put into everything that she had done? And yet here was this oblivious, smiling bookworm, who was beautiful without trying, for whom magic came seemingly effortlessly, for whom everything seemed to go her way! And of course, now she had even become royalty!

It was all in the wings. Graceful, long wings. They were the physical embodiment of everything Twilight Sparkle was that Trixie wasn’t. It was an unspoken taunt. It was spit in her eye.

Her anger was familiar. She remembered it. It was how she had felt when she had first donned the awful Alicorn Amulet. It was that anger that had brought her to her lowest point. And it was that anger that she had run from, all the way to the edge of the world, way out here, where her past could never find her. And yet, here it was again.

Trixie pushed her anger aside. She was a different pony now. A better pony. She had once considered herself Twilight Sparkle’s equal, and Twilight’s new status was going to do nothing to dissuade her of that notion! Trixie straightened herself up proudly, and met Twilight’s eyes with her own confident gaze. Trixie had to tilt her face up slightly at Twilight Sparkle to do so. Huh. She’s taller now, too. Well, that figures.

Trixie replied. “Welcome to Oakville, Twilight- Princess Twilight Sparkle. It is… nice to see you again.”

Well, now her show for the princess was going to be even more awkward. Tonight, Trixie was going to have to give a magic show for Twilight Sparkle.


. . .


“Wait… what?” said Rainbow Dash from behind Twilight. “Trixie’s here?! Geez… what are the odds of…” she stopped when she flew out of the train and locked eyes almost immediately with Lightning Dust.

“Oh,” Rainbow Dash said, landing quietly, looking away.

The mayor’s strained smile threatened to break his teeth now. “You know each other too, Lightning Dust and, um…?”

“Rainbow Dash,” Lightning Dust finished for him, practically spitting the name.


. . .


Acting quickly, and salvaging the situation the way only Pinkie Pie could, the pink party pony leapt out of the train, produced a cannon from absolutely nowhere, and blasted a wave of confetti and streamers over the increasingly confused crowd.

“HI!” said Pinkie.

Nopony responded.

“I SAID HI!” Pinkie tried again.

A stallion took a small step forward. “Uh… hi?”

Pinkie smiled and waved at him, “My name’s Pinkie, what’s your name?”

“Uh…” he looked around them nervously at the gathered crowd. He shyly indicated his cutie mark, a yellow circle, “Cheese Wheel.”

“Nice ta meetcha! I’m the Royal Party Advisor!"

"Royal... party advisor?"

Pinkie Pie produced a sheaf of papers and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, placed the glasses on the end of her nose, and began reading, "I, the undersigned Princess Twilight Sparkle (the party of the first part), do decree the party pony Pinkie Pie (the party of the second part) is hereby proclaimed by the party of the first part, and the party of the first part's party of advisors to be the party of the first part's representative and counsel in matters party related (for details and definitions pertaining to the purview of this office, see Part E). The undersigned party of the second part, and any signatory party of the party of the second part, agree to this party pony position, to be referred to by the title of " Royal Party Advisor. Signed by the party of the first part Princess Twilight Sparkle, and the party of the second part Pinkie Pie."

Pinkie Pie looked up from the paper, and looked down her nose, over the horn-rimmed glasses with a serious expression on her face. The onlooking crowd was becoming increasingly confused, but Pinkie Pie had their full attention. She handed the document over to Cheese Wheel. "Submitted for your approval."

Cheese Wheel took the paper, read it briefly, then looked up, his eyebrow raised in confusion. "This... is a cake recipe."

"...And I hereby decree this Acorn Festival Party officially started!” she shouted, throwing one forehoof around Cheese Wheel’s shoulders, and throwing the other in the air.

The crowd threw their hooves in the air and cheered.

Applejack and Rarity shared a glance. If Pinkie Pie could help Twilight handle the crowd, then so could they. They exited the train, smiling diplomatically. Applejack started making the rounds on the food stalls: tasting, smiling, offering advice (“Could use some apples.”), and generally bein’ downright sociable-like. Rarity, for her part, wasted no time hobnobbing, complimenting dresses, discussing fabrics, gossiping… basically being Rarity.

And the Acorn Festival was back on track.


. . .


“Of all of the towns in the world, Trixie had to be here. I do not wish to see her, Fluttershy my dear. I do not trust myself not to be furious, our past recently has been injurious,” Zecora said to Fluttershy, looking out the train window.

The last time they’d seen each other had involved Trixie drinking a potion containing Twilight’s infamous want-it-need-it spell, and Zecora had… not reacted well. Okay, well, in fact she had tackled Trixie, declared her desire for the showmare, and licked Trixie’s face, then pursued her across Ponyville, and nearly wound up strangling Twilight Sparkle, who she saw as a rival for Trixie's affections. Maybe to say that she had "not reacted well" was putting it mildly. She was still haunted by the embarrassment from that night.

Fluttershy nodded sadly. “You know you have to forgive her eventually, right, Zecora? I hope this doesn’t keep eating away at you forever.”

“I do know this, my friend, and I wish I could. But I can’t just let go of my anger, though I know I should.”

Fluttershy decided to change the subject. “Thank goodness those three are so good with crowds,” said Fluttershy to Zecora, looking out the window.

Zecora nodded in agreement with Fluttershy’s statement. "Fluttershy, it is true, Twilight is lucky to have the five of you."

Fluttershy gave a small frown. "But what about you, Zecora? You're our friend too!"

Zecora gave a small laugh. "Thank you my dear. I’m not used to friendship yet, I fear. I’m grateful you all feel this way, I just wasn’t sure it was my place to say. I’m glad to have you as my friend, rest assured I am loyal to the end.”

Fluttershy smiled at Zecora, then turned back to the window. “Do you think Twilight will be okay out there? I mean, Trixie’s here and all. And Lightning Dust too… do you think Rainbow Dash will be okay?”

“The kindness in your heart is too big for just you, but don’t worry, my dear, they will pull through.”

Fluttershy smiled again. Turning to Zecora, she said, “Would you like to go visit the squirrels with me? Maybe we can see them before the squirrel parade starts!”

“I would be a delight for me to, visit the forest rodents with you.”

And the two quietly left via the back of the train, away from the hubbub of the crowd, and away from Trixie and Lightning Dust.


. . .


Twilight was eternally grateful for Pinkie, Applejack, and Rarity’s help in getting the crowd distracted. She had been steaming down the Mess-This-Up Railroad at a breakneck speed, to put it metaphorically. How could things have gone so janky so quickly!?

Twilight saw Trixie frowning at her, and, being Twilight, interpreted it incorrectly.

“I’m sorry for causing a bit of a scene, Trixie, I didn’t mean to single you out of the crowd,” Twilight said, smiling disarmingly, once the rest of the ponies seemed sufficiently distracted not to make much gossip of it.

“Trixie does stand out from a crowd, Twilight Spa- ...princess. It is hardly either of our faults that you were so dazzled by Trixie’s presence. It is to be expected, really,” said the showmare haughtily.

Twilight resisted the urge to roll her eyes. That would have just been un-princess-like.

“So… uh... how do you two know each other?” asked Mayor Flax.

Trixie froze. She had made so much progress here. If the mayor knew what she’d done in her past, if the ponies here learned who she was was… then her fresh start would be over and ruined before it had even had a chance to begin! They would all turn on her like every other place she had travelled! With a jolt through her heart, she realized that her entire future could hinge on the answer to an off-handed question. An answer made by her one-time arch-nemesis. A drop of sweat rolled down her forehead.

Twilight opened her mouth to answer, but then seemed to rethink her answer before she even spoke it. Her eyes met Trixie’s own nervous ones, and her eyebrows rose in sudden realization. She said, “Oh, she visited me in Ponyville occasionally. We’re old friends, she and I,” Twilight said to the mayor, smiling.

“Wow! 'Cool beans!' I had no idea you knew royalty!” said the mayor excitedly, looking at Trixie.

Trixie almost shivered. She felt like her own ghost had just passed through her. Twilight Sparkle, of all ponies, had just covered for her, of all ponies. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, “Yes, well, Trixie does know many important ponies. Trixie did not wish to brag.”


. . .


“Hey, LD. How have you been?” said Rainbow Dash, apprehensively.

“Fine,” bit back Lightning Dust, tersely.

“Yeah.”

Awkward silence prevailed for a few moments.

“So… hey. About Wonderbolt Academy… I just wanted to say...” Rainbow began.

Lightning Dust took off with a whoosh, buffeting the princess and the mayor’s greeting party with a slight wind, and leaving a lightning-yellow scar across the sky in her wake, until it disappeared among the leaves.

“What the- my gosh! Princess, I am so sorry! I don’t know what’s gotten into her!” said Mayor Flax, aghast at the behavior of his Weather Patrol Captain in front of their royal guests.

“I do,” said Rainbow quietly, her expression unreadable.

“It’s alright, mayor. No harm done,” Twilight said reassuringly, shooting Rainbow a concerned look.


. . .


THE NERVE. THE NERVE OF HER. TO BRING THAT UP IN PUBLIC? HERE, IN MY TOWN? Lightning Dust raged, imagining Rainbow Dash laughing at her even now. Her face was fixed in a snarl as she flew away, in no particular direction. Just… away, punching holes through clouds as she went and imagining rainbow colors on them.


. . .


“Are you okay, Rainbow?” Twilight asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine, no problem.” Rainbow said, guardedly.

“What happened at Wonderbolt Academy wasn’t your fault, you know. Lightning Dust is just going to have to learn that there are consequences to every bad decision.”

“Yeah, I know...” Rainbow wandered off into the crowd, her head down.

Trixie looked back and forth between the where Lightning Dust had stood and Twilight Sparkle. It would seem that the weather captain had a bit of a history with Twilight's friends as well. For once, she found herself siding with Team Sparkle. After what Lightning Dust had done to her tent, her clothes, and her stage, she did not find it surprising to discover that the pegasus had a troublemaking past. She was, in Trixie's opinion, kind of awful.

"Well, princess, I am so sorry about that again, but I hope you'll enjoy the little tour and some of the festivities with my little greeting party and I!"

Spend the rest of the day with Twilight Sparkle... no, I don't think so, Trixie thought.

“Well, if you will excuse Trixie, it is time to prepare for the magic show tonight,” she said, leaving rather more quickly than needed.

“Oh, alright. Um… I’m looking forward to it, Trixie!” Twilight called after her, assuming an artificially cheerful tone. Well, looks like I can add Trixie to the list of ponies I’ve disappointed today… so that just brings it up to… oh. The entire town, she thought sadly. For once, she actually was looking forward to Trixie’s magic show. It might distract everypony from the mess she had made of things.

Giving a quick, well-disguised sigh, Twilight put her smile back on and continued talking to the mayor, as they and the other remaining members of the greeting party walked off into Oakville and the heart of the festival.


. . .


Applejack smiled down at a filly with a table full of acorn cakes. She smiled back, offering Applejack a cake to try. She reminded Applejack strongly of her little sister Apple Bloom back home, and the thought made her smile a little wider. The orange mare offered polite “Thanks,” and took a bite, closing her eyes. Not bad at all, really! It tasted surprisingly like gingerbread, though very crumbly. Still, Applejack could not help but ponder… what about a sliced apple topping, sprinkled with powdered sugar? As she opened her eyes to suggest the idea to the filly, she caught a glimpse of a familiar combination of colors out of the corner of her eye. Was that…? It couldn’t be. She swore she’d seen red and white and tan and blue. In fact, she could swear she’d heard the phrase “Brother o’ mine,” as well! But, when she turned to look, she just saw more of the crowd. She shook her head. Probably her imagination.

“Applejack? You look a bit like you’ve seen a ghost, dear!” Rarity said, approaching them.

“Thought fer a minute Ah saw… aw never mind, prob’ly just imagined it.”


. . .


“Did those mares look familiar, Flim?” asked Flam, as the two wandered away from the busy marketplace. Flim had a burlap sack thrown over one shoulder.

“Hmm…? No, not really, can’t say I can place them, brother o’ mine.”

“Didn’t we run into them in Ponyville? Tried to swindle a farm out of the orange one?”

“If I kept track of everypony we tried to swindle, I would know every pony in Equestria, Flam.”

“Right, well, anyway, looks like there are a lot of rubes out today. We should be able to swindle the rest of what we need, eh, brother?”

Flim laughed, “Somepony out there has the parts, and we have the swindle! We need only meet!”

Flam laughed along with him. “I suppose we’d better get what we need quick, and make ourselves scarce before they actually open that keg of cider, eh, brother o’ mine?”

“Right you are, Flam, right you are!"
> Getting Ready For the Big Show
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	"It's fine," muttered Mayor Flax to himself. "Everything is fine! This is going just fine!"

"Did you say something, mayor?" Twilight asked, turning to look at him quizzically as they walked.

"Hmm? Oh, hahaha no! Uh, not at all, your highness!"

"Oh. Okay, then."

The mayor and the three remaining members of his "elite" greeting party walked with the princess through the hustle and bustle of the festival, but the laughter and celebration around them was having a difficult time penetrating the "bubble" surrounding the royal escort. It was a bubble composed of 50% mayoral frazzled-ness and 50% royal awkwardness and embarrassment. They were a sort of gloomy sphere floating across an ocean of joy.

"So, your highness, um... if you don't mind me asking... well, I know I shouldn't ask but... how did you become an alicorn? What did it feel like? Are you immortal? What exactly is your position in Equestria? Do the princesses have ranks? Territories? What legal significance will your ascendancy have?" asked one of the ponies in the party, a slate blue unicorn with glasses on his face and glasses as his cutie mark. Data Feed, Twilight remembered his name was; he was the Oakville librarian.

"Whoa! Uh... I... I'm not sure the answer to most of those questions, myself, actually."

"You mean they never told you?" Data Feed replied with incredulity.

"No... well, I mean, I never really asked..." Twilight replied, a little sheepishly.

Data Feed raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You... didn't ask?"

Twilight twisted her mouth into a thoughtful half-frown. Finally, she settled on, "It's been a busy couple of months."

Data Feed could not help himself. He was a bit tactless in that way. "Forgive me for the observation, your grace," Twilight winced a bit at the title, trying to hide the growing blush of embarrassment. "But... if I had been physiologically altered and simultaneously had been promoted into the ruling class, I would have had a great many such questions for her majesties Princess Celestia, Luna, and Cadance."

Twilight put her hoof to her face. A move as tricky, for they were still walking, as it was necessary, for it was the only gesture capable of conveying how she was feeling.

"Aaaaanyway, Data Feed," Mayor Flax cut in, a little bitingly. His voice was tight, like he was being strangled; his mane was disheveled and his eyes were bloodshot with stress by this point, "It might interest you to know that her highness was a librarian prior to her ascension. Perhaps you could talk about that?" he said through gritted teeth barely disguised as a smile.

"No, I'm much more curious about-" he started, before he caught the Mayor's murderous look. "Uh," he said, "Actually... yeah, I'd love to hear more about Ponyville Library!"


. . .


Trixie was not worried. Certainly not. She was in no way nervous. She was never nervous. She was a glorious performer! The stage was her home! She never got the jitters before a show!

...Yeah.

Trixie hunched over in what was left of her tent, staring at a small mirror, trying to make herself presentable. Her breaths came shallow and rapid, and she felt sweat on her forehead. She was trying not to think about the show. It was better if she didn’t think about it. She didn’t want to think about how the whole town would be there, hoping she would make them proud in front of the princess. She didn’t want to think about giving a show for royalty. Especially when that royalty was Twilight Sparkle. She didn’t want to think about the condition of her stage, which was a mess.

Trixie sighed. She had to calm herself down. She had done so many shows, this one wasn't going to be any different. Whenever she got into this kind of a funk, she thought back to a memory she always rejuvenated her when she couldn’t get herself into the right mindset: the memory of her very first "show."

Trixie sat in the schoolyard, staring up at the tree. She really liked this tree. Or, I suppose, to be more specific, she really liked the way the light came through the leaves. Trixie loved light. The patterns it could create when it hit things, the way colors could change, the way it illuminated otherwise invisible motes in the air, the way it could be reflected with mirrors… she loved it. To Trixie, the light beams shining through the leaves of the school tree were the most beautiful thing in the world.

And so it wasn’t bad at all for her to sit alone in the schoolyard during recess and watch the light beams. Not bad at all. It wasn’t like the other ponies in her class wanted anything to do with her, other than maybe show off their cutie marks or magic skills. It seemed to her that they always made a point of doing so near her, since she lacked both (with those smug smiles, rrrgh). She was the last foal in her class to be without a cutie mark, and was probably the worst unicorn in her class at using her magic. She lagged far, far behind the others. Helpful of them to remind her of that at every turn, really.

If only I could reach out and touch that light beam, Trixie thought, watching it flicker as the leaves moved slightly in the gentle spring breeze. She tried to imagine what it would be like, her magic wrapping around it and bending it, like a bubble made of invisible mirrors. And then, before she even realized it was happening, it was happening. The light beam bent. That... had to be a coincidence, an illusion! Were her eyes playing tricks on her? She tried it again, and it bent further. Her mouth hung open in shock. She was doing it!

But... but she could barely do anything with her magic! How was this so... so effortless? She kept experimenting, and before long, she found she could "twist" the light with her refractory magic, and she found she could create shapes with it. She started making all kinds of things out of the light: a crude butterfly, a simple star pattern, a magic wand. She found herself especially proud of the magic wand, smiling up at it as she "waved" it around here and there, twisting and bouncing the light to make the shape move. She giggled as some tiny bits of light escaped her magic field, leaving a sort of twinkling in the wand's wake.

Some of the other foals saw what she was doing, and took an interest in her for what seemed like the first time. They ran over to her, fascinated by what she was doing.

"Ooo!" came a high, sarcastic voice, "Hey! Whatcha doin' there, Blankie?" said one of them, the ringleader, a popular and prissy unicorn filly by the name of Wish Dancer. She had tortured Trixie with the nickname for as long as the two had known each other.

Trixie turned to look at Wish Dancer and her friends, who had gathered around her in a semi-circle. Despite their offishness, she could see that they couldn't completely hide their fascination with what she was doing. They... they're actually impressed! Imagine that! The same foals who had always thought it was funny when Wish Dancer made fun of her were impressed! Well... what better way to get back at her than by showing her friends how wrong she had been about "Blankie!"

"Behold!" Trixie said, climbing up on her tiny hind hooves and throwing her tiny forehooves dramatically into the air. "Watch as the... Great... and... and Powerful Trixie dazzles you with her... um... with her wondiferous illusions!"

And the wand waved over her head, and a dozen other light beams bent and angled into a perfect sphere of light above her head, then shot out from the sphere in every direction in a hundred rays of different colors, before exploding in an illusory showering of sparks and stars over them both. And Trixie smiled like she had never smiled before. This was what confidence felt like! And it felt good.

Wish Dancer was agape. But the other foals? They began to clap their hooves together.

"Wow! That was great!" said one.

"Amazing!" said another.

Trixie's beaming smile of pure joy began to turn to a predatory grin of vindicative glee. That look on Wish Dancer's face was priceless! 

The rush of confidence! The lights! The thrill of the performance! And of course, the adoration! She had never felt like this before! It was different being the center of attention when the attention was positive! It was the most glorious feeling! Why, they loved her! Trixie doubted she would be made fun of now!

Then, she felt a tingle on her flank. Could it be? She looked down, and put her hoof over her mouth. She gasped. Her cutie mark! It was the wand of light, trailing the twinkling light behind it. The other foals cheered for her, and she basked in that moment.

It had been the happiest day of her life. She often thought of it, her first performance, when she was worried about a show (not that that ever happened, of course). That first time she had experienced that wonderful feeling of adoration... it was unlike anything else. The love, no, the worship of an audience... it had always been her fuel. It had always been what she craved!

I've got this! Trixie thought. After all, I am the Great and Powerful Trixie!

No matter how bad things looked, Trixie never did lack confidence. She would wow them. She would throw her hooves in the air, and fireworks would go off, and she would perform stunning illusions, and they would love it! This will be my greatest show ever! Trixie thought, I’ll put on a show so amazing, I’ll even impress Princess Perfect herself! I am done with her looking down on me! Tonight is my night!
> At the Magic Show
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	It was already fairly dark when a crowd of ponies made their way along the wooded path to the outskirts of town, where The Great and Powerful Trixie's stage waited. Celestia's sun was still sinking in the sky, but darkness came early under the blanketing canopy of the oak trees. The forest paths were lit by rows of softly glowing lanterns on either side.

The mayor had planned this show as a sort of feather in the cap of the festivities, the final display of the town's pride: their talented new magician. It was their big finale, so to speak. However, today had not gone according to plan, and he was starting to put more and more hope into the thought that Trixie would be able to leave the Princess with a more favorable memory of her time here today. He was still a bit put out that Princess Twilight Sparkle was already at least somewhat familiar with the performance, but he still had high hopes that Trixie could end things with a bang.

The mayor's hope turned to worry as he and the other ponies of Oakville arrived at the stage to see it in its unexpectedly disastrous state. The mayor turned to look at the Princess, who frowned as she saw the stage area. She didn't say anything as they struggled through fallen branches to try and find the royal seats. Mayor Flax felt a fresh flush of embarrassment. What happened out here? he wondered.

"It looks like a tornado went through here," Data Feed muttered unhelpfully as he gaped.


. . .


“So, does Princess Luna have memories from all those years she was banished on the moon, or…? I mean, how did she not go mad, well, I mean... more mad?” Data Feed inquired tactlessly.

Twilight resisted the urge to roll her eyes. That would have been un-Princess-like. “Understandably, that’s a topic that doesn’t come up much, what with the shame and intense personal trauma involved.”

Data Feed gave a half frown in reply, considering this. “Hm. Well, I’m still curious. What about Celestia? She must have a lot to say on the matter.”

“Quite the opposite, actually, Data Feed,” Twilight said to him, sidelong. There was just a hint of exasperation in her voice. She tried very hard to make a show of the fact that she had turned her attention towards the stage. Trixie had appeared from behind the somewhat ragged stage curtain, and thrown her hooves into the air in her trademark pose, looking much the worse for wear in a very tattered hat and cape. This, however, did not distract Data Feed.

“Do you think Nightmare Moon was a part of Luna’s personality, or do you think it was some kind of possession? And… what’s the deal with Princess Cadance, anyway? Where did she come from? Why has she aged, when Luna and Celestia haven’t? Is she immortal? What is her connection to the Crystal Empire? What is up with Prince Blueblood? Is he really related to Celestia? Why isn't he an alicorn?”

Twilight was spared further inquisition when Trixie’s first trick went awry, distracting everypony, even the intrusive librarian.

Trixie had used her magic to activate a lever beneath the stage, which opened a door in the stage and raised up a prop mechanically. In this case, the prop was her opening trick, the Tartarus Torture Box. However… as the box was only halfway out of the stage, a grinding noise was heard, and smoke and sparks began to shoot out of the lift. The audience gasped as a spark caught on Trixie’s hat, quickly lighting a small fire, and she quickly tore it off and threw it to the ground, stomping it out. All pretense of this being part of the show was lost at that moment, but Trixie carried on as if nothing had happened, attempting to maintain the illusion as best as she could.


. . .


As the show went on, Mayor Flax felt so bad for Trixie. It was awful to watch, and everypony else clearly felt the same. The atmosphere hovering over the audience was like watching a train wreck: not wanting to stare, but unable to look away. He had seen Trixie's shows many times since she had come to Oakville, and so he had some idea how some of her tricks were supposed to go, and... well, they weren't. Absolutely nothing was going right. It was an unmitigated disaster. Every trick flopped or failed in increasingly bizarre and creative ways. It couldn't be because of nervousness, not from the Great and Powerful Trixie. Surely, something was wrong.

He shifted in his seat, wincing as he found himself sitting on an acorn. There was a branch fallen across the bench between he and the Princess, making conversation and even eye contact difficult through the mess of leaves and branches. He briefly allowed himself to be relieved at this. It was a temporary respite that allowed him to collect his thoughts without royal scrutiny. He brushed the acorn from the bench and turned his attention back to the stage.

She was trying so hard, he could see it. He figured that they all could see it. She was desperately trying to make her various tricks and contraptions to work, and making an effort to play to the audience members who found themselves struggling to see through some of the branches and debris scattered throughout the area. The springs in her trick knives were missing... every time she tried to bring one of her contraptions up from below the stage, nothing happened except faint grinding and groaning noises... only one of her stage-mounted confetti cannons fired, half-heartedly belching a pitiful clump of confetti and wet leaves onto the first couple rows.  He saw the glitter of a tear in the corner of her eye. But she was professional, never letting the frustration and embarrassment she must surely be feeling show in her expression for a second. When a trick went wrong, she seamlessly transitioned to the next one, each time hoping for better results, and each time finding none. The showmare's smile never broke, and she never stopped trying. It nearly broke his heart.

The audience around him projected an aura somewhere between awkward silence, pity, and vicarious embarrassment. It was far from the "oohs" and "aahs" he had seen at Trixie's shows before.

What happened here? the mayor thought, sweating as he thought of his royal visitor. He looked at the chaos around him, much worse than it had looked before he had told Trixie and Lightning Dust to get it cleaned up. How did it all go so wrong?!


. . .


Twilight wasn't sure what to do. Was she making it worse by watching? Should she look away? But that might look like she was... well, any number of things. But if she stared, did that make it worse? Should she... do something? Should she help? But Trixie would probably resent that. Should she applaud? No, that might seem sarcastic or condescending. Should she laugh... oh, but not in a mean way! ARRGH WHY WAS THIS SO DIFFICULT!

She was all too aware that her presence here had made this show much more complicated for Trixie, and part of her wondered if everything that was going wrong was her fault by proxy. Perhaps Trixie had been so flustered when she had shown up instead of Celestia that she'd loaded her confetti cannons full of leaves by accident?!

As all of these thoughts rattled around in her head, Twilight wore a tight smile that was hopefully more convincing than it felt.


. . .


The Great and Powerful Trixie had a performance to finish. She couldn't allow for distractions, she couldn't allow herself to focus on everything that went wrong. Focus on the next trick. Don't think about anything but the next trick, worry about stuff going wrong later. Worry about Twilight Sparkle later. Worry about why this was happening to her... why the universe hated her... why... worry about that later, too. Finish the show.

She blinked away the tear forming in the corner of her eye. She was holding herself together admirably, but it was a strain. She kept telling herself that she could still save the show. After all, she still had her finale. She still had the Wheel of Illusion!


. . .


Zecora found the show funnier than she should have. It seemed fitting to her. Trixie had humiliated her that night after Cauldron Club, and she had betrayed Twilight's trust to do so. She had been responsible for a great deal of the damage that had been done that night, but most of all she had... Zecora did not like her emotions manipulated. Trixie's want-it-need-it potion had made the magician irresistible to anypony who had come near her, and the first victim of it had been Zecora herself. In her desire to have the unicorn all to herself, Zecora had even attacked Twilight in a fit of mad jealousy. The idea that she could be made to feel that way against her own will... against her own judgement... it was a violation. And Zecora was slow to forgive her for it.

And so, though Zecora tried to hide her smile, a small one broke across her features anyway.

Fluttershy, who shared a lonely bench in the back of the crowd with Zecora, frowned at her. "That's not very nice Zecora. I don't think it's very funny," she said, quietly. A squirrel was perched on her head, and one sat on each of her outstretched wings. They also all frowned disapprovingly.

Zecora replied, "No, dear Fluttershy, I suppose not. Still, you can't deny she deserves what she's got."

"That isn't for anypony to say, Zecora. She did apologize to you, you know. Do you know how hard that must have been? I think the best thing for you to do for yourself would be to forgive her," the little yellow Pegasus said, gently.

Zecora watched quietly for a while, in thought. Trixie had created a field of fireflies over her head, seemingly out of pure pale yellow-green light. They illuminated the entire area, eliciting what had up until now been rare "Ooohs" and "Aaahs" from the audience. Then, a mirror that had been well-disguised as part of the backstage broke loose and fell, shattering on the stage. All but a few of the lights died out, leaving a pitiful handful of firefly-sized lights remaining of her display. Even in the now-dim illumination, Zecora could see that the rogue tear in the unicorn's eye had broken free and rolled down her face, unacknowledged by Trixie herself as she continued her show, throwing her forehooves into the air, and booming "Behold!"

Zecora sighed. "Fluttershy, your advice is true, and I must thank you. After this show, I'll talk to Trixie... though I fear she may be in no mood to see me."

Fluttershy just smiled in reply and gave the zebra a reassuring hug.


. . .


Why are you even here? said the voice in her head. Haven't you done enough damage?

Shut up, Lightning Dust said to the voice. I just wanted to watch the show. She sat high up in the tree branches, watching Trixie's magic show fall apart below her, safe in the shadows. She eyed the stage miserably.

Sure, because you haven't had the chance to do that for months now. Do you just want to see a pony fail worse than you? Is that what you need to make yourself feel better?

I am not a failure! Lightning Dust punched the stout tree trunk next to her with her hoof. Besides, the show isn't even that bad! It's going... okay, Lightning Dust retorted to herself, unconvincingly.

The voice in her head laughed cruelly. It's a disaster, are you kidding? That magician's life is ruined! Oh, wait! I get it now! You aren't here for her, you're here to punish yourself, aren't you? the voice laughed even harder at that thought.

Lightning Dust shook her head to clear it. This negativity wasn't helping. She sucked in a bracing breath, and began to put her mental armor back on. This had been a bad day, but it wasn't like it was her fault! Still, she should probably say something to Trixie after the show, anyway... maybe she could tell her that it wasn't that bad a show or something. Trixie would probably just yell at her until she went away, anyway, so it wouldn't even take that long. She could still be home in bed early tonight.

Part of her was terrified at the thought of speaking to Trixie, part of her felt shame for all of this, and that bitter voice in her head knew that a part of her hated herself. Thankfully, those pieces of her were buried deep inside her mental armor now, and she was back to being herself again.

Yeah, she could let the wizard have her fit, take it in stride, and be home before nine. Good plan, LD. We'll be the mature party here, she thought smugly.


. . .


Rainbow Dash glanced up to the tree branches. She thought she'd heard a noise, like something striking a tree trunk, but it was too dark and shadowy up there to see anything. She turned her attention back to Trixie's show, wishing she were anywhere else. It was not a great atmosphere, and her surprise encounter with Lightning Dust earlier in the day had been bothering her since they'd arrived. All in all, this had been a horrible trip.

"I can't believe I'm missing out on training for this," Rainbow muttered to herself. "Today has been the worst."

"It's been rough for everypony, Dash, but ya gotta remember why we're here," Applejack muttered in reply, tilting her head a couple rows behind them.

Rainbow turned to look at Twilight, who would have seemed to most ponies to be maintaining an air of perfect princess serenity... with her smiling expression... her eyes never leaving the performance... she certainly looked like a dignified princess enjoying local culture... or she would have if Dash didn't know her better. Rainbow knew Twilight, and she could see through the façade. She could see that her friend was about to snap in two from the stress this trip had heaped on her and everypony around her.

Yes, Applejack was right, of course. They were here for Twilight. Some things were more important than training. Loyalty was definitely one of those things.

"Yeah... you're right, AJ," Rainbow Dash replied. But Applejack had been distracted by something, and was looking off into the woods at the edge of the stage area. "Uh... AJ?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry RD. Now Ah'm sure Ah saw..." Applejack started... then stood up. "Ah'll be right back," she said, and began moving to the end of the aisle.

"Uh... okay?" replied Dash. Turning to Rarity and Pinkie Pie, she said, "What's got into her?"

"I'm not at all sure," Rarity said, putting the tip of her hoof daintily to her chin in thought as she watched Applejack make her way out of the audience area. Pinkie Pie's reply was a shrug, followed by more loud muching on terrifyingly-heavily buttered popcorn.


. . .


Flim and Flam ambled back towards the resting place of the Super Easy Cider Squeezy 6000. Their route passed close by Trixie’s stage, so they kept to the woods to avoid being spotted by the ponies attending her show.. In their saddlebags, they carried another load of odds and ends that they had swindled several of the town’s shopkeepers out of. It was their hope that, between these and the parts they’d taken from Trixie’s stage earlier, they’d finally acquired enough parts to fix their machine and get out of town. Flam’s moustache drooped as he appeared lost in thought, but Flim was as enthusiastic as ever.

“Ha! Can you believe all this stuff we got for practically nothing, brother? Something about festivals sure makes rubes easier to con! Maybe all the food is making their brains a little slower!”

Flam laughed along half-heartedly without replying. He wasn’t feeling his brother’s excitement at all. He wasn’t sure why, but he kept thinking back to the magician show. He felt worse than usual. It didn’t feel right taking those parts… it felt like stealing. And, for as much as the brothers prided themselves on their swindling, Flam had never thought of he and his brother as thieves. This had been nagging at him all day, despite his best attempts to shake it.

Flim, for his part, had noticed that his twin brother had something on his mind, and he was pretty sure he had an idea what it was, but he decided not to bring it up a second time that day. Surely, Flam would feel better when they were out of town, back on the road, and back on their game.

They’re getting to you, brother, thought Flim. The whole world is against us out there, waiting to knock us down a peg. We can’t let them. We stay together, we stay strong, and we don’t let them push us down.

Flim sighed. Hoping to give Flam something else to think about, he said, “So, brother o’ mine, have you got any ideas where to head next when we fix the 6000?”

Before Flam could reply, a vaguely familiar voice drawled from behind them, “Ah reckon Ah have an idea where ya can go right now.”

The brother’s hearts leapt to their throats and the color drained from their faces. Slowly, they turned in unison to face behind them. There, coming out of the deep wooded shadows behind them, green eyes shining fiercely in the dimming light, stood an orange earth pony mare with a Stetson on her head and a lasso rope around her shoulder.

Applejack nodded her head at their saddlebags. “That’s a real… interestin’ collection of parts y’all got there.” Applejack’s voice dropped threateningly, “Ah’m gonna offer ya a choice. Ya can come with me ‘n’ tell Trixie yer sorry, then return what ya took and help fix it, or…” she smiled. “We can resolve this a little less civil.”

Flim and Flam gulped.


. . .


The Wheel of Illusion was less a magic trick and more a light show. Trixie used the wheel to manipulate light to create dazzling, massive displays of color and brilliance. It was an ideal way to finish off a show, though Trixie tried to use it sparingly, only using it for special shows. The wheel itself was a simple round wooden slab, like the top of a round table, mounted to the side of a simple hollow wooden post that housed belts and gears and mechanisms the raised the wheel out from under the stage and also spun the wheel with great speed with great speed. The post and wheel had been carefully painted to match Trixie’s trademark hat and cape: purple with pale blue and yellow stars all over it. The wheel itself was covered with an intricate series of crystals, mirrors, lenses, and prisms, which, to look at it, might seem scattered randomly over the surface, but which were in fact positioned with minute precision to give Trixie perfect control over the light she would project at it, where it was refracted, reflected, and illuminated in a variety of possible ways. This allowed her to use the wheel not as some kind of primitive kaleidoscope, but more like… an instrument. Yes, an instrument of light. The Wheel of Illusion was Trixie’s finest accomplishment, impressive, expensive, beautiful, unique, AND ingenious. And now… well it might just save this show!

"FILLIES AND GENTLECOLTS! THROUGHOUT THE AGES, PONIES HAVE WONDERED AT THE MYSTERIES AND MARVELS OF NATURE! LOOKING UP AT THE STARS, THEY WERE AWED BY THE MAJESTY OF THE NIGHT SKIES! WATCHING THE THUNDERCLOUDS, THEY COULD FEEL NATURE'S POWER! SEEING THE OCEAN WAVES, THEY COULD WATCH THE WORLD AS IT HEAVED AND BREATHED AROUND THEM! BUT NOW, BEHOLD AS THE GREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIE BRINGS THAT SAME WONDER BEFORE YOU! WITNESS, AS TRIXIE'S WHEEL OF ILLUSION BRINGS THE AWESOME GLORY OF THE COSMOS TO THIS STAGE! WATCH, AS TRIXIE MASTERS NATURE HERSELF!"

Trixie decided that she couldn't trust the stage lifts with the wheel, especially the way they'd failed her tonight. Instead, she decided to use her telekinesis to open the trapdoor and lift the wheel up herself, and just let the telescoping post extend manually. It was heavy, but Trixie was sure she could do it, and besides, such a display might even make the entrance more impressive.

Lighting up her horn, she opened the trap door, and wrapped her telekinesis around the telescoping post... pulling with all of her magical might. Throwing her hooves once more into the air in her trademark pose, The Great and Powerful Trixie, cried out, "BEHOLD! THE WHEEL OF ILLU-"

As the post emerged from the trap door, glowing with Trixie's telekinetic aura, there was nothing attached to it. No wheel. Only a few bare wires and rubber belts sticking out from the hole in the side of the post where the wheel had once been attached. Trixie released her magic, and the post telescoped back into itself, crashing under the stage with a dull thud. She turned to face the audience. She stared at them in silence for a full five seconds, her mouth open, and her eyes shell-shocked.

Somepony coughed. There were a couple gasps, and a murmur that spread through the crowd. Trixie locked eyes with Twilight Sparkle, who quickly looked away.

I am so done, Trixie finally thought. There's only one thing I have left... the only thing I can do is...

The murmur quieted as the light in the area began to dim further, as if all of the flickering lanterns at the edge of the seating area were having the light drawn out of them, as if the last rays of the setting sun itself were being absorbed.

Trixie focused. Using her magic to reflect and refract light was a challenge, and she was using all she could, sending as much light her way as possible. Above her head, a softly glowing orb of pure light, about the size of a beach ball, was forming. Focusing her magic, Trixie created a thousand tiny, invisble mirrors, and slowly began to warp and twist and mold the ball of light into a familiar shape, as she had once done for her classmates all those years ago: a magic wand with a star on the end. The spitting image of her cutie mark.

Slowly, and gently, she waved the ghostly blue-white wand back and forth above her head. It was small, perhaps only slightly taller than Trixie herself, and it was not especially bright, as there had not been much light at all to work with, but... in a way, the fragility of it made it more hauntingly beautiful.

In complete silence, Trixie, eyes closed, waved her illusory wand to the right side of the stage, leaving tiny, barely perceptible constellations in the air behind it. Waving it to her left, one could perhaps just make out a tiny galaxy and a shooting star. Everypony in the audience watched, completely transfixed, each and all caught up in this moment that was simultaneously expressive and intimate, vulnerable and beautiful. With one more wide arc of the wand in front of her, Trixie cast a small, dusty cloud of stars out over the audience as far as she was able. The wand disappeared, and Trixie opened her eyes. Fighting to keep her expression neutral, she gazed out at the audience for a few beats. Then, she bowed to them.

"Thank you," she said, simply, and turned and exited to the backstage.

And that was the show. Nopony moved or said anything, or... it seemed, even breathed for a few seconds. Slowly, the stray light that had been used in Trixie's display seemed to find its way back to the lanterns. Then, throwing the remainder of her popcorn into the air, Pinkie Pie stood up on her hind legs and began clapping her hooves together and cheering.

Before too long, everypony had joined her.