Trixie isn't perfect, and she knows it. But behind the flashing lights and fake bravado there is another pony the world rarely sees, somepony who is just trying to protect the only pony she truly cares for.
Protect the ones you love...
Trixie isn't the perfect pony. In fact, sometimes she's a downright awful pony.... And she knows it.
But there's another side to her One behind the flashing lights and magic tricks. One born and raised in the dark side streets of Canterlot. Where a painful past and a waste of what might have been a glorious future haunts her every step. A world of regret and loss, with pride and dignity gone in a life-long struggle to make ends meet. This is the life of a pony who has sacrificed everything to try to save the pure, innocent soul that is the only joy in her life.
This is the life of the pony who calls herself Trixie Lulamoon
The train running between Ponyville to Canterlot rumbled quietly as it slowed into the station. Inside, a lone pony in the last carriage sat forlornly in her seat. Breathing on the window, she traced a hoof through the fog clinging to the glass, drawing a happy face. The pony stared at the picture, trying to mimic its glee with something that came out more like a grimace than a smile. With a sigh, she rested her head against the cold glass and closed her eyes.
“Madame?” She felt a hoof on her shoulder, and opened her eyes to see a smiling ticket collector staring down at her. “Sorry to bother you, but we’re just pulling in to the station, and I was wondering if you had some luggage I could get down for you?”
“Oh… I do, but I can get it down by myself.” She sat up and channeled her magic. Her horn sparked up in a gentle pink glow as she levitated down a worn old blue suitcase. Turning back to the stallion, she gave him a small polite smile. “Thank you, anyways.”
He shrugged, “It’s my job to be helpful, and anyways you looked pretty plum tuckered out…Long trip?”
“Oh, not really…” she mumbled, “Just an…eventful week.”
“Which town were you coming from?” he asked.
The mare bit her lip and cast her eyes down. “…Ponyville.”
He chuckled lightly, “Oh, no wonder you’re tired. I have a cousin there, and she was telling me about all this crazy stuff involving some psychotic mare who was making the whole town do the silliest things. Now what was her name …”
“Trixie.” whispered the mare, laying her ears flat against her head.
The stallion frowned. “Oh, I apologize if I upset you, my cousin did say some ponies had it worse than others.”
The mare simply whimpered lightly.
“Oh, please don’t get upset, Miss…uh…I’m sorry, I don’t believe you told me your name.”
“Ummm…my nam is…uhhh…” Her eyes darted around the room, resting on the group of ponies filing out of the train. “Excuse me!” She blurted, darting past the ticket collector. Grabbing her suitcase in her magic glow, the mare pushed past the other ponies and wiggled past the line and out the door.
Darting through the train station, Trixie Lulamoon fled into the night.
Trixie slowed as she neared her home. She was being silly. All the poor stallion had done was ask a few polite questions. She shivered, all the same, she hadn’t been ready to deal with ponies hearing of her....dealings…in Ponyville. Still, it had been nice to have a normal conversation for once.
With a sigh, she glanced up to spot the large statue that sat in town square that was so familiar to her. This was a dividing point. Walking north lead a pony towards the castle, with each row of homes and shops growing more splendid and expensive as one went. The south led to the less…desirable side of the city.
Trixie quietly made her turn, the lights of the castle fading away as she left town square for the world she knew. It was easy to navigate the ins and outs of the poor side of Canterlot once you had lived there long enough. The fist few streets of homes were bright and cheerful, if a bit small and cheap. Trixie trotted past those and onto the roads of cracked concrete and sparse brush.
The homes here were run down little shacks of bad-luck and misfortune; the bars a place to throw away your worries. The further away the streets got from the watchful eye of the castle, the worse they became. Many mares found means of work in a few…unsavory side streets.
Trixie allowed herself a sad smile. Here, she was an expert.
Slowly, she trailed along the chipped pavement, making a turn here and there as she wandered towards her home. She paused by the familiar playground that stood alone on the edge of a dying field of grass. It was a derelict thing, the little climbing frame rusted, the chains of one of the swing seats broken.
Trixie grimaced, it was hardly safe, but she could not remember a time when the neighborhood had the money to get it fixed. Most of the ponies living in the area barely got by with their measly earnings as it was.
Shaking her head, she turned away and broke into a swift gallop. Closing her eyes, she savored the feeling of the wind running through her mane in a joyful, carefree fashion.
As she rounded her street, she slowed to a walk once more. She was hardly in a hurry to reach her house. Slowly dragging her hooves, she counted off the numbers in her head. 1…2…3…4…5…6. Ah, here it was. Number six, the last house on the street.
Trixie let out a sigh. It was time to go home.
She slowly trudged up the steps to the splintering porch, shooting a glare at the porch light that never seemed to be working. Reaching up a hoof, she knocked on the door.
“Go away!” yelled a mare’s voice from inside, “I aint got any more damn money yet!”
Trixie rolled her eyes and banged her hoof against the door again. After a pause, the door swung open to reveal a scowling older mare with bloodshot eyes.
“The landlord looking for overdue rent again, mother?” Trixie smirked.
“Trixie.” Her mother spat, “What the hell you doing back here?”
Trixie glared at her, “I finished my business in Ponyville. And I’d try to look a little more pleased to see me considering I’m the one who pays the rent.”
“Don’t you talk to your mother like that!” she growled. Avoiding her mother’s glare, Trixie grabbed her bag and slipped past her inside. Surveying the room, she noted that the usual amount of trash around the place seemed to have grown. She gently levitated her bag over to a chair while simultaneously collecting the worst of the rubbish. Dumping it all in the trash can, she frowned at her mother.
“Why does the filth around here always seem to increase while I’m gone?”
Her mother shrugged, “Maybe cause you’re not here to pick it up.”
Trixie simply sighed and trotted into the kitchen. Several half-empty bottles of alcohol littered the table. Judging by the smell wafting off her mother, there were no doubt other bottles dotted around the house. Shaking her head, she levitated the empty bottles into the crate she used for recycling. She inspected the few that were still half-empty before dumping the liquid onto the wilting bush outside the window.
Her mother stumbled into the kitchen. “What are you doing with my drinks?”
“Getting rid of them.” Trixie muttered calmly. Reaching for the last drink, she turned towards the window. Her mother’s hoof collided with her cheek as she snatched the bottle out of her daughter’s grasp. Scowling, Trixie rubbed her stinging cheek as she watched her mother turn and wobble out of the room.
She sighed and summoned her bag from the other room. Plopping it down next to her, she stared at the filthy kitchen with a forlorn gaze.
“Welcome home.” She grumbled.
“Trixie?” whispered a small voice from behind the corner.
Trixie looked over with surprise, “Sparkle?”
“Trixie!” the voice cheered as a little filly scampered from around the corner. Slipping across the floor, she danced around her sister.
Trixie grinned and pulled her sister over to her, waving her hoof in front of her sister’s muzzle to get her attention. “Woohoo, over here!” she laughed.
With an excited squeal, Sparkle threw her forelegs around her sister. Smiling, Trixie returned the hug. Happy little whimpers escaped Sparkle as she snuggled closer, seeking out the familiar warmth of her sister’s embrace.
“You’re back.” she whispered.
“Yes,” said Trixie. “I’m back.” resting her head on the top of her sisters, she closed her eyes and breathed in the sweet scent of her mane. Both stayed there for a minute, simply enjoying the presence of one another. Slowly, Trixie pried her sister off her. She stared at the little face as she did her best to create a stern face.
“You’re supposed to be in bed!”
Sparkle gave a sheepish grin and looked down. “I didn’t want to have to wait till morning to see you.”
Despite her attempts to scold her sister, Trixie couldn’t help but smile. “Alright, good enough.” She reached down and scooped her sister onto her back. Heading out of the kitchen, she slowly plodded towards the room she shared with Sparkle.
She glanced back at her sister’s skinny frame with worry. “Have you been eating well?”
Sparkle made a face. “Mummy had a bad week, but I remembered how to use the microwave on those boxes of food like you showed me, so I was ok. Plus…” She leaned forward in a whisper. “I found the Nightmare Night candy you stashed away.”
“Sparkle Lulamoon you evil child!” Trixie cried in mock horror. “Upon that candy there was but a terrible curse!”
Sparkle giggled and slid off her sister’s back, bounding over to her cot in the corner of their room. She scrambled up and sat on her pillow, waiting for Trixie to come tuck her in. “Did you find what you were looking for in Ponyville?”
Trixie froze, barely two steps away from the bed. The last few days once again came pounding down on her. “I…I’m not sure.” she sighed, “I certainly…learned some things.”
Sparkle pouted, “Trixie, why do you look sad?”
Trixie shook her head and forced a smile onto her face. “I’m not sad. Now…” She gently moved back the covers and tucked her sister in. “You, my inquisitive little filly, need to get some rest.”
She leaned down and planted a kiss on her sister’s forehead. “Good Night.”
“Good night Trixie, I love you.” whispered her sister.
Trixie smiled, “Love you too.”
She quietly shut the door, and walked back out to the living room. Her mother was still perched on the sofa, nursing her bottle of who-knows-what.
“I’m going out.” Trixie stated loudly. “Sparkle is asleep. If you wake her I’ll kick you drunken ass into next Tuesday.” She turned and trotted out the front door before her mother had the chance to respond. Slamming the door shut behind her, she gazed out at the night sky forlornly before taking a step down onto the porch step. The wood crackled beneath her hoof, and with a shriek she crashed to the down. Coughing out wood dust, she inspected her front leg, which was now half sunk into the step. Pulling her hoof out, she inspected the broken step with a scowl.
Why was it that everywhere here seemed to lead to a bar?
Trixie sighed. Somehow, she’d ended up back at her usual place for self-pity. She slowly walked up the last few steps on the path that led to the little building. Pushing her way past the old swinging door with its rusty hinges, she plodded over to the counter and slid onto a stool.
Slim, the barkeeper, hustled over with a smile. “Trixie! Back from Ponyville, I see! Did my favorite girl have fun on her little vacation?”
Trixie simply groaned in response and flopped her head down on the counter. Slim gave a knowing grin and leaned closer.
“A day for the good stuff, I’m guessing?”
Not quite willing to surface from the cool wood she was resting on, Trixie merely shook her head sullenly without looking up. As Slim walked away to fetch her drink, Trixie turned her head slightly to look around the room. There wasn’t much to be said for The Prince’s Mare, it was a simple, old-fashioned spot. While a little run-down, it had a nice atmosphere with a cozy feel to it.
Trixie grimaced slightly. Finding a nice place to just relax was difficult around here, places like this were pretty rare. Slowly, she managed to sit up, leaning her muzzle on a hoof, she sighed. It was rather ironic that one of her favorite places was a bar, given her distaste for liquor. Her mother’s problems had led her to never touch a drop of beer, vodka, and their like. However, a nice glass of wine never went amiss when she’d had a really bad day.
Slim trotted back over to her with a small glass of red wine. She smiled slightly, and took a sip, savoring the taste.
“So,” said Slim, “Are you going to tell me why you're in here and obviously feeling miserable, on your first night back from what you told me was supposed to be a relaxing vacation?”
Trixie snorted, “I suppose that’s what I told you it was. But to be honest, I have no idea what it really was. Sparkle thinks it was a business trip, and I told my mother I was going to join a convent.”
Slim gave a hearty chuckle. “You in a convent? With a mouth like yours, they’d have to wash it with something a lot stronger than soap.”
Trixie made a face and took another sip of wine. “I’ll have you know I have a very refined way of speaking.”
“Whatever you say, darling. Now, what did happen in Ponyville? And don’t lie, I figured out your tell years ago.”
Trixie groaned, “I really don’t want to talk about it. I promise I’ll give you the whole truth sometime, but…I’m not ready yet. Just…promise me that when the newspapers come out tomorrow you’ll remember that there are two sides to every story.”
Slim raised an eyebrow. “Newspapers? What makes you think anything you did in Ponyville will end up in papers here?”
She winced slightly, “Trust me, It’ll be there. And no doubt they’ll be over-exaggerating things. So…try not to hate me.” She glanced down at her glass, forcing herself to hold in the tears.
Slim’s face softened, “Trixie I know better than most people about what newspapers can do. Besides, unless you blew up half of Equestria, I don’t think I could hate someone like you. You’re a good pony,even if life hasn’t dealt you a good hand.”
Trixie smiled slightly. “Thank you Slim.”
Slim nodded and winked , turning away to clean a few dirty glasses. Trixie sloshed around her glass, trying to keep her mind of what would be coming tomorrow. She had no doubt that the papers would make her out to be some kind of monster. What else could be expected after challenging an element of harmony?
A foul smell rose to meet her muzzle, leaning away in distaste, she turned her head to see a rather drunk looking stallion grinning at her.
“Heeeey baby” he slurred, “What’s a pretty mare like you doing here alone?”
“Shove off.” she muttered.
“And what if I don’t?” he leered, moving closer towards her while eying her flank.
In an instant, Slim appeared, glaring at the stallion. “Hey, that’s my sister your talking to. Now get your ass out of my bar before I kick it out myself.”
The stallion froze, his face turning white. Even as drunk as he was, he knew when a threat was being made. He quickly jumped off his stool and bolted out the door.
Trixie laughed as she watched him flee. While Slim’s chocolate brown coat and lack of a horn stood out in a pretty clear difference from herself, his mane was a close enough shade of blue to fool most stallions, especially given how drunk they always were.
“You know, eventually one of those guys is gonna be sober enough to figure out we’re not related.”
“Aye,” said Slim, “But I’d kick his ass anyways.”
She grinned. “Slim,” she whispered suddenly, “Did you ever have a dream?”
“A dream?” he frowned, “Well, when I was younger I fancied owning a pub on the North side. A real fancy place with good food and liquor….Why?”
She sighed and shrugged, “I don’t know, I just…wondered.”
“Does this have something to do with what happened in Ponyville?”
She nodded, “I had a dream…once. I came so very close, then had to give it up for the greater good and watch another filly walk away with the prize.”
He sighed and shook his head. “That’s a hard thing to do.”
“Yes, it is.” She whispered. “Well, I guess I’d better be going…” She reached for her bag of bits only to realize it was still in her case. “Damn, forgot my money.”
He smiled, “Don’t worry, darling. This one’s on the house.”
She shook her head. “You’re too good to me Slim.” She hopped off her stool and walked towards the door. Calling a goodbye over her shoulder, she pushed outside. Stopping for a second to savor the cool night air, she started on her way home.
The rain fell with a soft pitter-patter as the little blue filly approached the hole in the earth. The muddy ground felt cold beneath her hooves, and she shivered as she edged closer to the abyss. Far below, the casket, a deep midnight blue, sat waiting at the bottom. The filly fought an overwhelming urge to jump, to join that world of blissful silence. The sounds of overly loud sobs from behind brought her gaze back to the world of the living. Turning her head, she saw her mother sitting in a chair, head in her hooves. Others milled around, offering their condolences as they tried to comfort her. The mare simply shoved them away from here, her sobs becoming louder, more obnoxious. They whispered of her grief, and how great it must be to cry so hard, but the filly knew otherwise. The mare was drunk, she’d seen the bottle in her hooves that morning. She turned back to the hole, where the stallion who had raised her lay. She sniffled, a few tears drifting down her cheeks. Gently, she lit her horn and lifted the rose she had been carrying in her mouth. It was perfect, in full bloom, each thorn painstakingly plucked off by her young hooves. She had placed upon it an enchantment that had changed it from white to a brilliant, sparkling gold …his favorite color. Slowly, she levitated it over the pit. It stayed there for a second, a single ray of sunlight from between the clouds breaking over it, and then she dropped it. The rose fell, landing neatly on top of the pile on the casket, it’s shining gold creating a brilliant contrast from the silken white of the other roses and the blue of the casket. “Goodbye, Daddy.” she whispered, “Goodbye.” A final tear slipped off her cheek and splashed onto the grass. She heard gentle steps as a second pair of hooves came into view next to hers. The older filly placed a hoof on her shoulder, an expression of concern on her face. She simply nodded, and flung her hooves around the light orange filly. They hugged, sobbing into each other’s shoulders as they shared their grief. The smaller of the two glanced up to see her mother looking straight at her. The mare opened her mouth, and yelled in a familiar filly’s voice.“Trixie wake up!”
Trixie’s eyes flung open, and she sat up with a scream. Sparkle was perched on her bed, a grin on her face. “It’s morning!” she sang with the kind of joy only a child would find at the crack of dawn.
Trixie groaned and flopped back onto her pillow. Her mind wandered back to her dream. It had seemed so real she could almost feel the rain on her fur. What a long time it had been since she’d dreamed of her father’s funeral.
Sparkle’s face peered over her, breaking through her thoughts. She noticed that the yellow-gold of her sister’s eyes had a strong similarity to the gold of the rose from her dream…
“Trrrrixxxieeee.” whined the filly. “It’s Saturday, you always make pancakes on Saturday.”
“Ah, fine. I’m up…” moaned Trixie. She slowly sat up and hopped out of bed, wincing as the cold, wooden floor hit her hooves. Straightening up, she grabbed her squealing sister off the bed with her telekinetic grip and trotted out to the kitchen.
Lighting a fire in the old brick fireplace to warm the cold room, she levitated her sister into her chair and walked over to the cupboards.
“Pancakes…” she muttered to herself, pulling the necessary ingredients off the shelves. She poured the different items into a bowl, mixing them into a sticky batter. Pouring some onto a pan on the stove, she turned back to her sister.
“Where’s Mom?” she asked, already guessing the answer.
Sparkle made a face, “Mummy’s snoring on the sofa.” she giggled, “She’s really loud.”
Trixie smiled and turned back to the pancakes. Flipping the first off the pan and onto the waiting plate. She poured some more batter to start another as she placed the finished pancake in front of her sister with the bottle of syrup.
Sparkle successfully distracted with the tasty treat, she slipped out of the kitchen. Sure enough, her mother lay conked out on the couch. Trixie froze. She looked so weak...so fragile. Her face streaked with dried tears as her hooves cradled the empty bottle of alcohol. Sometimes when she saw her mother like this she could almost find a way to forgive her for the years of pain.
Almost.
She walked over to the mare and reached a hoof out, shaking her shoulder a little more gently than she intended. Her mother opened a bleary eye, and Trixie forced a small smile.
"Morning. There are pancakes in the kitchen, best cure for a hangover. Just...take a shower first, alright? You smell." Muttering something incomprehensible, the mare rolled over and fell asleep again.
Rolling her eyes, Trixie turned away and trotted to the front door. She took a deep breath, before opening it up to find five newspapers heaped on the porch. It appeared the neighbors weren’t going to waste the opportunity to laugh at her…ponies in this side of town tended to have even more of a thing for gossip than the Canterlot elite.
Trixie levitated up the papers and shuffled through them. Her eyes widened with each ridiculously inflated headline, each about her…antics…in Ponyville, naturally. The final paper on the bottom was a copy of The Ponyville Times, Trixie studied it for a second, before moving it away from the pile of the others.
Walking back into the kitchen, she placed the newspaper on top of the fridge, where Sparkle wouldn’t find it, then promptly chucked the other four into the fireplace, watching with a kind of vindicated pleasure as they burned.
Sparkle glanced up, syrup drizzling down her muzzle. She watched the newspapers as they started to burn, and her eyes narrowed in confusion. “What’s that?”
Trixie smiled. “Oh, nothing…just some trash. Using old paper saves wood, after all.” She studied her sister’s messy face with a frown before grabbing a towel off the bench and attacking her sister’s sticky muzzle with passion. Sparkle squirmed as Trixie did her best to wipe off the syrup from her face.
“Get off Trixie!” she muttered crossly, pushing the towel away. Trixie stuck out her tongue at her sibling, and then closed her eyes in concentration, calling her sister’s hairbrush from the bathroom with her magic. Pulling up a chair up behind her sister’s, she gently began to run the brush through the filly’s mane.
The bristles gently cut a path through the delicate curls, and Trixie lifted a hoof to twist one of the pieces back into shape. Her sister had such a lovely mane… A fascinating two-color style that very few ponies naturally had. The top half a sweet, soft blue, the same color of Trixie’s coat, the bottom light lavender. It was a unique combination, curious and captivating, but beautiful on her little sister. The two colors stood out flawlessly against Sparkle’s alabaster coat. Trixie’s eyes once again drifted to the lavender of her sister’s mane…such a similar purple to that Twilight’s…it seemed even with her own sister she could not escape that mare.
She didn’t mean to dislike Twilight, honestly. Trixie couldn’t find a fault with the mare that was obvious, at any rate. It was simply…jealousy. It was a fickle thing, but it could drive ponies to do terrible deeds.
Miss Twilight Sparkle…personal protégée to her high and mighty Princess Celestia, and an Element of Harmony…Magic, to be exact. It hadn’t been hard to figure out who the mare was, Trixie had merely had to dig through the papers a bit to find articles about her. “Defeat of Nightmare Moon”, etc. After that, Twilight seemed to be popping up in every paper she got her hooves on, and with each paper… she grew more and more jealous. Not of her title as Magic, if the element had picked her, then Trixie supposed it was right.
It was simply…everything else. Twilight Sparkle seemed to have a perfect life. Her connections to the princess and her affluent background meant the mare would never have financial troubles. Heck, her big brother had married the princess of love…she was basically royalty. She had friends that adored her and ponies that respected her. Growing up under the wing of the princess, she had never gone want for anything.
If life had dealt Trixie a bad hand, as Slim had said, then Twilight Sparkle had come out with all aces.
“Trixie!” yelped her sister. “You’re hurting me!” Trixie gasped and retracted the brush from her sister’s mane. It appeared that while she had been lost in her thoughts, she’d been roughly dragging the brush through Sparkle’s hair.
Trixie sighed and lifted a hoof to stroke her sister’s curls by way of apology. Her anger at the world always seemed to be taken out on the wrong things: her sister’s mane…and Twilight Sparkle.
* * *
“Push me, Trixie, push me!’ cried Sparkle as she plopped herself down on the swing seat with a smile on her face. Trixie laughed and trotted behind her sister, sitting down and using her forelegs to push her sister gently through the air.
The filly’s innocent giggles grew louder in volume with each push. Eventually Sparkle was high enough that she gave a nod to her sister, and Trixie moved away so that she could attempt to swing on her own steam. Beaming with pride, Trixie watched Sparkle slowly begin to gain control of the motions of the swing. She was growing up so fast…
She shuffled back a couple steps, and took a seat on a bench next to a rose bush. Trixie had planned on spending the day hiding from the public eye inside the house, but through her sister’s insistent pleading, she had somehow ended up at the park.
She glanced at the bush next to her, roses. A lump formed in Trixie’s throat as it brought back the memory of her dream, which she had forgotten in the buzz of the morning’s activity. Her father’s funeral…it had been one of the hardest days in her life, possibly even worse than the day he actually died. Seeing him there…sealed in the ground…really knowing, finally, that he wouldn’t be coming back to make it alright again…that it was just her, and her mom…and the baby.
Trixie absentmindedly studied the rose bush, before lighting up her horn and igniting a rose in her pink glow. Calling forth the same spell she had created many years ago, she concentrated her magic on the rose, slowly turning the red petals to a glittering gold. Slowly relinquishing her magic’s grasp on the delicate flower, she contemplatively studied the now sparkling rose. A small gust of wind made the petals quiver slightly, and she lifted a hoof in surprise as she felt a tear trace her cheek.
“Trixie!” Sparkler ran over to her. “Did you see… Why are you crying?” Trixie looked over at her sister, who was standing next to her with concern written all over her face.
Trixie forced a small smile. “Oh, nothing. Just…grown up problems, is all.” She felt a couple more stray tears make their way down her face.
Sparkle frowned and clambered up onto the bench next to her sister, wrapping her little hooves around the mare. “You always say that hugs make everything better.” she whispered.
Trixie chuckled and wiped her cheek. “Indeed they do.”
Sparkle’s eyes drifted the bush next to them. “Isn’t that a rose? ...Why is it gold?”
“Oh…I made it gold.”
“Why?”
Trixie looked into her sister’s wide eyes and sighed. “Just practicing. Here…” She plucked the rose from its stem, and tucked it into Sparkle’s mane. She smiled. “It matches your eyes.”
Sparkle grinned and hugged her sister tighter. Yawning, she rested her head against her side. “My teacher says that roses are what ponies that are in love give to each other on Hearts and Hooves Day.” she mumbled, before looking up at Trixie with curiosity. “Did a stallion ever give you a rose on Hearts and Hooves Day?” she frowned. “…Or a mare?”
Trixie stared at her sister, then laughed. “What makes you think my special somepony would be a mare?”
Sparkle shrugged. “Dunno. But, I heard a teacher yell at Cloudy about saying only mares and stallions can be special someponies…said is was important to be “accepting.”’
Trixie grinned. “Well, that is a very good lesson to learn. However, that doesn’t mean everypony would just as willingly date a mare or a stallion, no matter what. It can be a sensitive subject for some ponies.”
Sparkle frowned. “Sorry Trixie.”
‘It’s fine. And…” she looked down at her hooves. “No. I’ve never gotten a rose on Hearts and Hooves Day. I don’t really mind though.”
“Why?”
“Because I…Well, I’ve always been too busy to worry about that nonsense. I’ve got performances to focus on.” And a family to take care of.
Sparkle yawned again. “Your shows are the coolest ever.”
Trixie felt like crying once more. ‘Thank you.” she whispered, before clearing her throat. “Now, let’s get you home, you sleepy filly!”
* * *
Trixie sighed as she reached the gate that was the entrance to a rather dark place. No matter what, she always seemed to end up back here…to the only pony she’d ever been able to truly confide in.
She trotted past the other ponies, each condemned to their small, cold homes for eternity. She shivered at the thought that she, ultimately, would end up here as well…perhaps sooner than the average pony. Now…where was he? No…no...Ah, here he was...where he always was.
“H-hi Daddy…” she whispered, smiling sadly. She sat down in font of the little stone grave-marker and sniffled, urging herself not to cry. Still, a tear managed to escape her eye and race down her cheek.
“Sparkler’s well.” she said as brightly as she could. “I took her to the park today…” Her sister was always the first subject of their one-sided conversations. To Trixie, it often felt like the only way to keep a connection between the father and daughter that never knew one another, and never would.
As Trixie did her best to recite the information about her day with her sister, she felt her voice quaver, and the tears at last began to run down her face freely. “Oh…” she cried, flopping to the ground, and curling up in a shivering ball. “Daddy…I did something awful. I hurt other ponies…especially a mare who never did anything to me.”
Trixie twisted her mane and used part of it to wipe the water from her cheeks. “I’m a terrible…terrible pony…” she muttered. “I let jealousy consume me, and ended up creating a monster out of myself.” With a sigh, she looked up at the gravestone. “After that day…I just couldn’t find work anywhere else. I couldn’t perform, nopony wanted me…I had to take a job at that rock farm just to keep food on the table and to get the repairs done to the wagon.” She trailed off in thought.
“I was stupid.” She muttered bitterly. “I was so desperate to get work I went looking for something to make me better…the Alicorn Amulet.” Trixie looked up at the gravestone angrily. “I didn’t know ok?! I didn’t know! I just wanted something that would make me impressive enough that ponies wouldn’t care what happened in Ponyville!” She furiously pounded her hoof against the ground. “I didn’t know…” Trixie lowered her eyes. “But it was my fault. All it did was feed off my own negative emotions, amplify them…If I hadn’t…If I hadn’t had such horrible feelings about Twilight…about Ponyville, it wouldn’t have been able to make me do the things it did.”
Trixie thought back to that first day in Ponyville, it hadn’t been Twilight’s fault…but how much of it had been hers? She had simply made up a story that drew in an audience… It was called entertainment. How would she know those two daft little colts would believe her?
Yet Equestria had blamed her, and now she had done something that would mean she would most likely never perform again. It wasn’t fair…she was hardly a bad magician, considering she was, for the most part, self-taught.
Yes…jealousy could do terrible things to a pony.
Trixie slowly stood up. She needed to get home. Starting tomorrow, her focus would have to be terms of employment, and getting rid of newspapers…any that got within eyesight of Sparkle
