Chapter One
The carriage clattered noisily along the dusty roads and thoroughfares as it made its way through the Equestrian countryside. Inside, Trixie lazily leaned on the banister, with her head propped against her hand as she stared out the window, watching the rolling and dales pass by.
“Beatrix, dear, please sit up straight,” her mother, who sat opposite of her, said. “It's bad posture.”
Trixie sighed as she straightened herself in her seat. “Yes, mama,” she replied.
“Remember,” she said, “all good ladies have good posture.”
“Of course,” Trixie said softly.
“You mustn’t forget, you are still a lady of the highest standing, and you must continue act accordingly,” the woman continued.
“If I am a lady of the highest standing,” Trixie replied, “then why am I being sent away?”
Her mother sighed.
“My dear, you're not being sent away,” she replied.
“It sure feels that way,” Trixie protested.
“You know it's nothing like that,” her mother said. “Your father and I just think this will be a good learning experience for you.”
“What could I possibly learn there that I couldn't learn at home?”
“Humility, dear, humility,” her mother replied. “It's what makes a lady proper.”
“In addition to good posture?” Trixie shot back.
“Mind your tongue, young lady,” her mother said. “Thank your stars it's only for a month.”
“A month!” Trixie exclaimed. “A month is an eternity to be spent locked up in that prison!”
“It's a cloister, dear, not a prison,” her mother said, fanning herself.
“Same thing,” Trixie said, waving her hand. “A whole month with all those ancient fossils and no way to talk to my friends.”
“You'll make new friends,” her mother said.
“I doubt it,” Trixie replied.
“Life is what you make it dear,” her mother said sagely, resuming a piece of knitting she had been working on earlier.
“No, life is what other people make it,” Trixie said. “And you are making it horrible!”
Her mother laughed.
“I think at the end of the month you'll be asking why I didn't send you earlier.”
“Again, I doubt it,” Trixie said. “My only consolation in all of this is that I'll be away from annoying Prince Blueblood.”
“He has a thing for you, you know?” her mother noted.
“I know; which is exactly why I can't stand him. He constantly tries to woo me with his hopeless attempts at romance and fails miserably. When will he ever see that I'm not interested?”
“I wouldn't be so quick to turn him down,” her mother replied. “He has ties to royalty.”
“Royalty, or not, he's obnoxious. In any case, I wouldn't ever think of dating him, if nothing else than because of that noxious perfume he wears.”
“Rare strain of lilac – imported. Paid a fortune to get it, or so I've heard. He obviously thinks you’re not cheap.”
“Doesn't matter,” Trixie said, looking out the window again. “He'll give up on me sooner or later and move on to another girl.”
“Careful,” her mother warned, “Word spreads around quickly. You turn him down, you're likely to intimidate other suitors, as well.”
“Who cares? Not I. Not for all the men in the sea.”
“Men aren't fish dear, and your father and I aren't going to live forever. Who's going to take care of you once we're gone?”
“Nobody; I should like to take care of myself, if it's all the same.”
“You'll end up old and lonely,” her mother warned.
“That's fine by me.”
“Then you should get along just fine at the cloister then.”
Trixie began to reply but cut herself short. Her mother snickered.
“Oh, you know what I mean!” Trixie pouted.
“Yes, I know, dear,” her mother replied. “Could you at least try to take away something positive from this?”
“I guess so,” Trixie mumbled.
The carriage traveled on through the breadth of the land, until it reached a quaint little valley, where the cloister lay tucked away, between the face of the mountains and the stream beyond.
“That must be it!” Trixie's mother exclaimed, pointing out the window.
Trixie stared at the building from afar.
It was a sturdy structure, built of brick and mortar. From her position on the hill, Trixie could see its layout – in the center, there was a vast square complex, with a courtyard where a great oak tree grew. On either side, it was surrounded by a labyrinth of other buildings that Trixie assumed to be the quarters for the cloister's inhabitants. However, one facet of this compound that Trixie could not mistake – the chapel, with its towering spire and stained-glass windows, which lay in back.
“Well, it looks charming,” her mother said.
“Charming is not the first word that comes to mind,” Trixie replied. “It looks...evil.”
“Oh, hush,” her mother scolded her.
The carriage pulled up to the entrance, where a raspberry colored sister was ready to greet them.
“Hello,” she said, smiling as the two dismounted from their coach. “You must be Lady Lulamoon.”
“I am indeed,” the dame replied. “And this is my daughter, Beatrix.”
“A pleasure to meet you both,” she said. “I am the Abbess here. I oversee the day to day running of the cloister. There are many duties that each sister must perform every day, and I am given the task making sure they are carried out.
“You will see that it is not an easy subsistence living here amongst us, but it is a rewarding one. We strive each day to become closer to the spirit of universal harmony, which unites us all through a daily regimen of prayer and meditation. Our entire existence focuses around finding inner peace through reflection, which is why we have strict, but fair rules to maintain the peace.
“But before I go on, let me ask you: does the applicant have a desire to join our order and become a sister?”
“I leave that for her to decide,” the mother replied. “I must warn you though, she can be quite headstrong.”
“Mama!”
“Well you are opinionated, dear.”
The Abbess stifled a laugh.
“Forgive my mother,” Trixie said, turning to the Abbess. “She believes I'm still a rebellious girl in magic school. To answer your question: no, I do not wish to be a sister.”
“Yes, well...” the Abbess replied, clearing her throat. “We receive many potential applicants who do not believe so either – that is exactly why we have a grace period, where we allow them to see if the lifestyle is right for them. Some do not stay, but a surprising number choose to remain and join the sisterhood.”
“Her father and I thought it would be good for her to stay here a while during the summer before she attended the Royal University in Canterlot. She got a scholarship, you know? She's a very a talented girl.”
Trixie blushed, bowing her head.
The Abbess chuckled.
“Yes, I believe you mentioned that in your correspondence. Whether she stays or not though is entirely her decision, of course, but while she is here, she will be treated like any other sister. She will have her own daily chores to do, and will be expected to attend and carry out services and liturgy with the rest of the order.”
“Sounds perfectly reasonable,” the mother replied. “I'm sure my Beatrix is perfectly capable.”
“So, you mentioned chores,” Trixie said. “What kind, exactly?”
“In good time, my child,” the Abbess responded. “But not before we show you around a bit. We don't want you getting lost. Trust me, I've been here some twenty odd years and I still occasionally lose my way – but I guess that's true for any of us, isn't it?”
“Quite,” the mother replied. “What do you want to do with her bags?”
“You can leave them here, out front,” the Abbess said. “Some sisters will come by and pick them up.”
“Very well, I'll have my chauffeurs deposit them,” the mother said, turning to her daughter. She laid her hand on Trixie's shoulder and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Don't worry, dear, it'll only be a month. It'll fly by, I promise.”
“I sure hope so...” Trixie replied softly.
“Goodbye, dear.”
“Goodbye, mama.”
With her final word, the mother remounted her carriage as the driver and his assistant unloaded the prodigious suitcases from the back. When their task was completed, and they were just about to set off again, her mother leaned from the door and waved her handkerchief.
“And do be sure to write, won't you!”
“I will!” Trixie called back.
Trixie watched as the carriage became smaller and smaller until it was a mere speck on the road, traveling towards the horizon. As she finished watching it fade from sight, she turned hesitantly back to the Abbess, who was waiting by her bags.
“This way, please,” the Abbess said, motioning towards to the entrance. “The day is fading fast, and I need to take you to the chapel before we do anything else.”
She turned and began to walk inside, with Trixie following reluctantly behind her.
“So, your name is Beatrix?” she asked as they walked down the main, black-and-white checkered corridor. “That's a very pretty name.”
“I prefer Trixie, if it's all the same,” she replied.
“Trixie works well, too,” the Abbess said.
“What is your name? If you don't mind my asking.”
“Cheerilee, though my title is: Reverend Mother, but you may call me Mother. Everyone else does, and I don't like to stand in too much on pomp and ceremony.”
“Okay, Mother...”
“Like I mentioned earlier, though, we do have some rules here that we demand strict observance of; the most important of these being: no talking. As an entrant to our cloister, you will be given a week to ask questions and get to know the sisters you will be working with, but after that, the only time you are allowed to talk is during the recreation period before evening prayer. You are absolutely forbidden to talk with anyone during meal-times or while you are inside. This is a place of reflection, and any chatter distracts others from finding their inner harmony. If you have any questions, you may ask me, if I'm available; otherwise, keep all remarks to yourself unless directed to do otherwise.”
“Okay,” Trixie said. “Any others?”
“Yes,” the Abbess replied. “No relationships.”
“Relationships?” Trixie asked, curiously intrigued.
“Yes, relationships. While we encourage reverent communion with our fellow sisters, we believe that chaste love, like the kind our Holy Mother has for us all, is the only type we require. Anything else is superfluous and distracts us from our true vocation. We have had to expel many good sisters because of this, so I needn't stress to you enough how important it is to maintain this rule. There are only so many things that keep this little world together, and any affair, threatens to break it apart. Again, let me emphasize: no relationships. If you are caught doing anything that could be construed as inappropriate, you will be expelled from the cloister. Is that understood?”
“Yes, mother,” Trixie replied. “Any more?”
“Those are the two biggest ones. In addition, there are those that go without saying: no stealing, no cheating, no gambling, and especially no gossiping. I could go on, but I think you get the point. And remember at all times to maintain humility, and you'll get along just fine here.”
This is not so bad, Trixie thought to herself as she followed the Abbess Cheerilee down the hall. The atmosphere here seemed peaceful, almost inviting even. Trixie was surprised at how graciously she had been welcomed so far, though she remained skeptical. She had heard horror stories of what went on inside these sorts of places, but these were merely rumors she had heard whispered in the bathroom stalls of her school. Surely with so warm a welcome, things couldn't be as possibly bad as everyone else claimed they were, could they?
The two passed down a long passageway, and then through a winding series of corridors and vaults until they reached two tall, wooden doors, from behind which, the sound of chanting could be heard.
“This is the chapel,” the Abbess said. “This is where we sing songs and give praise to the Holy Mother three times a day.”
“Um, Mother?” Trixie asked.
“Yes, my child?”
“Who is the Holy Mother?”
“You've never heard? The Holy Mother is the creator of the entire Universe and everything in it. She is the reason for our existence, and it is through her that we received the Holy Sacraments of Harmony – the very principles on which our society has been founded.”
“Why is she called 'the Holy Mother'?”
“Because she is mother to us all, dear; we are her descendants, but most importantly, she is the mother to the Princesses, our rulers, who reign wisely and with divine authority over us. That is why we have formed this order – to dedicate our lives to the Holy Mother, in solemn obedience and devotion, that we may achieve inner peace and harmony through her.”
Trixie was at odds with this belief, but was strangely curious about it. She had always been taught as everyone else had, to always speak of the Princesses in a revered light, but she had never known the reason why. She knew that there had always been a significant emphasis on their divine right to rule. “It had always been that way,” she had always been told, so she didn't question it. Now with this new revelation from the Abbess, she suddenly found herself questioning things she never had before. Trixie was about to ask another question, but was cut off when the Abbess turned to the door as the chanting died down.
“The praise is ending,” she said. “Now, I'm afraid we'll have to part. In the meantime, do you see those stairs over there?” she pointed off to the right, where narrow set of stairs lead up into the stone confines above.
“Yes,” Trixie replied, nodding.
“Go up there and take a seat in the balcony until after the liturgy is done, and meet me back here, and I'll show you to your cell. Okay?”
Trixie nodded.
“Good, and remember: no talking.”
The Abbess turned around to the double doors and flung them open, before purposefully walking down the aisle to the front, where a small pulpit stood with an open book. Trixie did not stay to look, but instead, made her way to the stairs, where she grasped the wrought iron railing that ran the length of the steps to the top.
Trixie stared up into the dimly lit confines of the balcony above and with great earnest began to climb the steps. As she approached the top, she felt her heart rise higher and higher into her chest, and felt as if she were ascending the stairs to the heavens themselves.
When she reached the precipice and rounded the corner, she was disappointed to see a an arrangement of unadorned and mostly vacant pews filling the space of the balcony, and not the celestial paradise, she had imagined.
Being sure she did not disturb the other occupants, who she was sure were also novices, Trixie took a position close to front so that she could get a good view of what was going on down below.
On the ground floor, the rows of pews were filled to the brim with black robes all facing towards the front, where the Abbess stood holding a crozier in her hand.
For a long time the entire room was silent, then in a deep, but gentle voice, the Abbess began to speak:
“Sisters, we give thanks to our Mother, and accordingly, set aside this time to reflect on everything that she has given us. We start by reading from the Book of Invocations and Entreaties, for those who are lost, and without love or friendship; especially during this time of war. Sister,” she said motioning to the pony who stood beside her, “Will you come forth and read for the congregation?”
“I will,” she replied silently and made her way to the book.
The purple coated unicorn cleared her throat and began to speak, although in a much higher and more nasally voice that the Abbess.
“O Holy Mother, who looks kindly upon us, her children; take away the disdain and hatred in our hearts; rid of the barriers that separate us from our fellow ponies; and in the spirit of kindness and love, allow us to struggle to accomplish or task on this earth, that in time, all may live in harmony and peace. Amen.”
The entire congregation responded in unison with: “Amen.” After which, the choir, who stood behind the pulpit, began to chant in someone ancient, unknown tongue; their clear, crisps voices piercing through the air.
Trixie could not help but get caught up in the theatrics of it all. It was such an elaborately planned ritual, preformed with such gravity and importance, that it was impossible for her not to admire the somber precision with which it was carried out. Yet, for all the splendid decorations and adornments that graced the chapel hall, it was the large, stained-glass relief of the Holy Mother, sitting proudly on her throne with her two daughters by her side, which truly took her breath away. For all her life, Trixie had considered herself someone who was important; and yet, looking upon her imposing figure, with her graceful yet stern eyes gazing down upon her, she could not help but feel small and insignificant.
As the chanting came to an end, the Abbess resumed her place at the pulpit.
“With the blessing of the Holy Mother, you are all dismissed. Go in peace. Amen.”
She then did a strange circular motion around her chest, which the entire assembly repeated; at which point, they began to file out to leave.
Trixie slowly rose from her seat and followed the line of supposed-novices back down the stairs to the foyer and waited patiently by the door for the Abbess; watching as the silent ranks of the cloister filed past her, some giving her fleeting glances as they passed, wary of any outsider.
At last, after the long procession, the Abbess emerged from the chapel; a smile upon her face.
“Well, what did you think?”
“It was...”
Trixie searched for the right word. She had honestly been impressed, in a vague way, by it all, yet perhaps it was the uniqueness and unfamiliarity of it all that made it so endearing.
“Well, it certainly wasn't dull, that's for sure.”
Cheerilee chuckled a bit.
“Wait till you've been here a while. This is done three times a day, so it looses newness after a while, but never it's charm, I'm happy to say.”
“Three times a day?” Trixie asked.
“Once in the morning, once at midday, and once in the evening, right before bed.”
“That's quite a bit of praying,” Trixie said.
“It’s what we’re all about, dear,” the Abbess replied. “But before we go, I wanted to introduce you to somebody. Trixie, this is Sister Sparkle. She was the one who read the liturgy just now.”
A black-cladded figure with a purple mane emerged from behind the Abbess.
“Sister Sparkle, this is Trixie. She will be staying with us a month.”
She’s odd, Trixie thought to herself as she looked her over. Indeed, Sister Sparkle seemed especially modest, even by nun’s standards; there was nothing that distinguished her from any other sister, yet there was something about her that Trixie could not quite put her finger on. She wasn’t especially ugly, in fact, Trixie could almost say she was beautiful; which is why it struck her as strange. How would did such a fair pony end up in a place like this?
“How do you do?” the sister asked, flashing a demur smile.
“Fine, thank you,” Trixie responded hesitantly.
“The prioress informed me that I have some business to attend to,” the Abbess continued, “and so I’ve assigned Sister Sparkle to finish giving you your tour and be your tutor for the next week. To that end, I’ve given her authority to assign you your first chores, so that you may start to get settled in here. She will be your superior until you know your routine, at which point you will be able to act independently. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly,” Trixie replied.
“Good,” the Abbess said, nodding. “Then I’ll leave you two to it. Farewell Trixie, until we talk again.”
“Farewell.”
With that, the Abbess departed, leaving the Trixie alone in the presence of Sister Sparkle.
“So,” Trixie began. “Where do I pick up my bags?”
“You won’t need them,” Sister Sparkle replied curtly, turning around. “This way, please.”
“Wait, what? Why?” Trixie asked following her. “What do you mean I won’t need them?”
“You won’t,” Sister Sparkle said again. “Everything will be provided for you.”
“But what about my clothes? My effects? My makeup?”
“Makeup is a tool of vanity,” Sister Sparkle replied. “It’s an expression of self-indulgent love, which is contrary to the all-embracing love of the Holy Mother. Plus just shameless – especially that eye-liner with that tone.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Well, if you just want me to look like some sort of beast each morning...”
“I’ve seen far worse,” the Sister said. “Though, to be perfectly honest, I don’t think you’ll last long anyways.”
“What? You don’t think Trixie can handle this?”
“No, I don’t,” she replied. “Ponies like you come and go; it’s nothing new. I honestly doubt it’ll be a week before you call it quits.”
“Now look here!” Trixie began.
“Ssh,” Sister Sparkle quieted her. “Remember, noise.
“Oh, right,” Trixie said, bringing her voice down to a whisper. “Now look here, what do you mean I’ll call it quits? It can’t be that hard, can it?
“You’ll see,” she replied.
Trixie followed Sister Sparkle through the narrow halls until they reached the sister's sleeping quarters.
“This where you’ll be staying,” Sister Sparkle said, leading her to one of the wooden doors.
Trixie pushed the creaking door open and stepped her cell; which was nothing more than a single, rectangular room with a bed in the corner, next to which was a table a candle, in front of a latched window.
“How…quaint,” Trixie said, forcing a smile.
“It isn’t much,” Sister Sparkle said, “but it suits its purpose.”
“It’s downright medieval," Trixie said, lying on the wooden bed. “Though I must admit, the bed is strangely comfortable.”
“One of the few creature comforts we allow here,” Sister Sparkle replied. “There’s nothing more necessary to a day of spiritual meditation than a good night’s sleep.”
Trixie yawned, being tired from a full day’s travel.
“I agree,” Trixie replied. “So, Sister Sparkle, may I ask you a question?”
“Yes?”
“How long have you been here?”
“In two months, I'll have been here three years.”
“Not terribly long,” Trixie remarked. “Why did you join, exactly?”
Sister Sparkle hesitated.
“Well...a lot of reasons,” she said, scratching her head. “The desires of my soul had a big part to do with it.”
“You all sure take this whole spiritual thing seriously, don’t you?” Trixie asked, closing her eyes.
“Yes, we do,” Sister Sparkled replied. “But, if you'll excuse me, I still have to get your effects ready. Stay here while I go and retrieve your habit.”
“Take your time,” Trixie said, waving.
The door creaked shut, leaving Trixie alone inside of her cell.
“It's too dark in here,” she said to herself.
Trixie stood up from her bed and flung open the shutters of her window. Outside, the sun was just beginning to set in the west; its rays gently passing over the snow-topped peaks of the mountains beyond to glisten off the flowing waters of the courtyard fountain, where the birds played and sang out their melodious chorus.
It's so peaceful here, Trixie thought to herself.
Trixie, having grown up in the busy streets of Canterlot, found it novel to be able to open the window and not hear the hustle and bustle of city life. From afar, she could hear the soft echoes of the river's current; the soft, whisper of the wind, and the crickets chirping in the tall brush. She felt the cool evening breeze upon her cheek; which sent chills up her spine.
Trixie closed her eyes while she took all of this in, and for a moment, if ever so fleeting, she was transported to other realm of existence that was quite foreign to her; where the cares and worries of the world were lifted from her shoulders and all was calm. And then, like a vapor fleeting in the air, she was brought back to her cell, where the distant light was fading away.
The young mare quietly reflected to herself as she ran her hand along the smooth windowsill.
There's something different about this place...
A moment later, there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Trixie said serenely.
Sister Sparkle reentered with a folded gown and habit in her arms.
“Here,” she said. “This is yours. It's a one size fits all, so no worries. Once you get dressed, I'll take you to the kitchen where you'll start your first task.”
“Sister Sparkle?”
“Hmm?”
“I didn't come here because I wanted to, but that doesn't mean I can't do anything you can. And as much as I hate to say it, I feel like I have reason to stay her now. I guess what I'm asking is: don't hold back on me. Treat me like you would anyone else.”
“That was the plan,” the sister replied, “though I'm curious myself now: what's brought this about?”
“Well, what you said and all...” Trixie said, looking down. “It just reminded me of my mother, who thinks I can't take manage or do anything for myself. I honestly didn't want to come here, but now I feel like I have something to prove – to you and her.”
“Are you being motivated by your pride or an honest desire to improve?”
“I'm not sure,” Trixie replied silently. “Maybe both?”
“Careful,” Sister Sparkle replied. “Hubris is the undoing of many good-intentioned works. Make sure you are pursuing these goals for the right reasons.”
“I should like to think I am.”
“Then I'll try to help you as best I can,” Sister Sparkle said, smiling.
Trixie stared at her for a long time before responding.
“I feel...like I know you,” Trixie began. “There's something familiar about you. Have we met before?”
“I doubt it,” Sister Sparkle replied. “I get that from a lot of ponies though. I have a very common face.”
“Perhaps...” Trixie said.
“Well...Trixie,” Sister Sparkle said. “I'll let you get dressed.”
Sister Sparkle made her way out and closed the door behind her.
Trixie donned her new attire and looked around, only to find that there was no mirror of any sort to be had.
“Why wouldn't they have a...?”
That's when she remembered what Sister Sparkle had said earlier.
“Oh, right...vanity.”
Trixie had never considered herself to be a vain pony. Vanity, after all, was that outstanding characteristic of modeling ponies and other well-to-do aristocrats who used everything imaginable to exaggerate their features and shamelessly exposed themselves for the adoration of others. Trixie was not like that, although secretly, she sometimes wished to be; if only to achieve her own ends.
When she was done adjusting her gown, Trixie fitted the habit atop her head and sighed.
“Never thought I'd live to see a day where I'd wear one of these,” Trixie said under her breath. “Although, ironically, I can't actually see myself.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Are you done, yet?”
“Coming right out!” Trixie said and made her way to the door.
When she emerged from her cell, she did a twirl.
“How do I look?”
Sister Sparkle smiled.
“You look fine, just here..” she said, walking up to her. “Let me fix this.”
She adjusted Trixie's habit, so it fit just-so atop her head.
“There, now you look just like a sister; but with only one difference...”
“What?” Trixie asked.
“These,” Sister Sparkle replied grabbing her hands and turning them up to reveal the palms. “They're smooth and uncalloused; but that will soon change.”
“I'm ready,” Trixie replied.
“Good,” Sister Sparkle said. “Remember though, you're the one who said not to hold back.”
“Anything you can do, I can do too.”
Sister Sparkle smirked.
“We'll see..Now, if you'll follow me please, I'll show you to your first assignment.”
Sister Sparkle lead Trixie to the other end of the complex; back through the winding passageways, past the main black-and-white checkered corridor, and then down a flight of stairs, until they reached the dining hall.
In the main area, which lay below the ground floor, there were several long rows of wooden tables that could easily accommodate several hundred sisters. Towards the end of the room, there was a serving place, not unlike those found in normal cafeterias, behind which, Trixie could see, was a kitchen.
Sister Sparkle walked familiarly down the long aisles until she reached the serving door, and entered inside.
In the kitchen, there were several large ovens, where the sisters were busy at work cooking bread and other food that would later be served at dinner.
“Here,” Sister Sparkle said, leading her to a back room. “This will be your first task.” She flipped on the lights, revealing a giant pile of potatoes gathered on the floor. “I want you peel these potatoes.”
Trixie's mouth fell as she gazed up at the huge mountain of spuds.
“All of them?” she asked.
“All of them.”
Trixie stood dumbfounded, unable to understand how any one pony could complete such a monumental task.
“I...uh...”
“What?” Sister Sparkle asked. “Think you can't handle it?”
“No...” Trixie stammered. “I got this...”
“Good,” Sister Sparkle smiled. “Then I'll expect to be done in an hour.”
“An hour!? How do I peel all of these potatoes in an hour?” Trixie protested.
“With this,” Sister Sparkle replied handing her a peeler. “And with great diligence and determination. I'll be back when the hour is done to check up on your work. See you in a little bit.”
Sister Sparkle turned away and walked out, shutting the door behind her.
“I guess I'll try...” she said, sitting in in the wooden chair next to the pile.
She grabbed one of the potatoes and set to work on it, letting the peelings fall into a wooden tub that lay nearby. A short time later, she had a fully peeled potato.
“There,” she said, tossing it in the bucket. “One down, and a thousand more to go.”
Trixie sighed.
“How is Trixie suppose to do all this?” she asked aloud.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
“Uh...come in?” Trixie said.
The door opened and a sister with a yellow coat came in.
“Really, really sorry,” she apologized. “ I didn't mean to interrupt, but I was working in here earlier and I think I forgot something.”
“Uh...no problem?”
“Oh no, please,” she continued, “It is a problem. I shouldn't even be here right now. Oh dear. But I've lost my rabbit, and I'm trying to retrace my steps to see if I can find him. Oh my.”
“Your...rabbit?”
“I named him Angel,” she said, looking under a few pots and pans. “He's a sweet dear, really he his, but he wasn't feeling well today, and....Oh! I knew carrying him with me was a bad idea! Now I fear he's run off, and I can't find him! Will you help me look for him?”
“Uh...sure, I guess.”
Trixie was not sure what to make of this sister. She had such a kind demeanor, but something seemed off. What was it that made her shake so timidly? Her voice speak so softly? Was it fear? Trixie could not tell; but she was an interesting presence, to be sure.
“Um...where did you last see him?” Trixie asked.
“That's just it,” she replied. “I'm not sure. I had him hidden in my sleeves the whole time, so I'm not sure when he slipped out.”
Trixie looked around the room, searching through the various crates and cooking-ware, trying to find the lost rabbit. After several moments, though, the sister was in despair.
“Oh, he must not be in here...” she said.
As she said that, Trixie leaned her hand down into a box and there was a loud crunch.
“Ow!” Trixie yelled, recoiling.
“Oh my!” the sister exclaimed. “What happened?”
“Something bit me!” Trixie said, waving her hand.
The sister went over to the box to see her beloved bunny chewing contentedly on some pieces of lettuce.
“Angel Bunny!” she said jubilantly, picking him up. “I should have known you'd end up here. I was so worried! Don't you run off like that again.”
Meanwhile, Trixie hissed in pain as she sat holding her afflicted hand.
“Here, let me look at that,” the sister said, stooping down beside her. “Oh my,” she said, examining it. “That's a pretty bad bite.”
“Does your bunny do this to everyone?” Trixie winced.
“No!” she asserted. “Never! He's never bitten anybody before. I don't know what on earth caused him to do that. Maybe you startled him?”
Or maybe that bunny is possessed by a demon from Tartarus, Trixie thought.
“Here,” the sister continued, producing some gauze from her habit. “That needs to be patched up. If only there was...”
She looked around the room until she spied some garlic cloves hanging next to a cabinet.
“Aha!” she said, grabbing one. “Now, this might burn...”
She crushed the garlic clove on the fresh wound, causing Trixie to feel a sharp, burning sensation.
“Ouch! What was that for?” Trixie asked.
“Keeps it from getting infected,” the Sister said, wrapping the gauze around it. “It should be fine now.”
“Thanks,” Trixie mumbled.
“No problem,” the Sister said. “And thank you for finding my rabbit. I was so worried. Now, I have to go. Still have a lot to do...”
As she was heading for the door, Trixie stopped her.
“Wait,” she called. “I didn't catch your name.”
“My name is Sister Fluttershy,” she replied, smiling.
“Sister Fluttershy...wherever did you learn about how to treat cuts?”
“I'm the head of the infirmary,” she said. “I take care of all sorts of illnesses and injuries. You would never believe the ways the sisters get hurt; but they do, and it's my job to help them get better.”
“Must have an impressive track-record,” Trixie said, looking over her handiwork.
“Haven't lost a single patient yet,” she replied. Happily. “Except, Sister Mabel, of course. But the poor dear was just so old that there was nothing I could. Bless her soul, she was an inspiration to us all.”
“I see...” Trixie said, nodding.
“And what about you?” Sister Fluttershy asked. “I don't think I've seen you around before.”
“I'm new here,” Trixie said.
“Ah, a novice,” Sister Fluttershy said happily. “Well, let me say, it's wonderful to have you. I think you'll come to like it here, as so many others have.”
“Er...thanks,” Trixie replied.
“But now I have to ask: what are you doing in here?”
“Oh, well, Sister Sparkle wants me to peel all these potatoes.”
“How's it coming?”
“Not too good,” Trixie replied. “Not sure if I can get this done in time.”
“Oh, well, that's easy.” Sister Fluttershy said.
“Easy?” Trixie asked, taken aback. “What do you mean easy?”
“Here,” she said, pointing to the corner. “You see that kettle over there?”
“Yes...?” Trixie replied.
“Bring it over here, and I'll show you how to peel potatoes super quick...”
~
When Sister Sparkle returned some time later, the kitchen was as busy as one might have expected it to be. The sisters eagerly set about their tasks; cutting up vegetables, putting pots on stoves, and a variety of other tasks to make ready for the preparation of the evening meal.
Through this organized chaos, Sister Sparkle traveled, until she came to the back-door of the pantry, where she had last left her novice.
“Now, let's see what she's done,” she said as she opened the door.
The sight she witnessed shocked her.
In the center of the room, Trixie sat next to a large, cast-iron kettle, where she was throwing potatoes, still fully skinned, into the boiling water.
“Oh, hello Sister Sparkle,” Trixie greeted her. “Back so soon?”
“What are you doing!?” Sister Sparkle exclaimed. “I told you to peel the potatoes, not boil them!”
“That's what I'm doing,” Trixie replied as she threw the remaining spuds. “There, that should do for that batch.”
“T-that's impossible!” Sister Sparkle stammered.
Trixie smirked.
“The proof is in the pudding; or in this case, the potato. See for yourself.”
She pointed to several buckets near the wall that were brimming with naked potatoes
“But how?” Sister Sparkle asked.
“I'm glad you asked – allow me to demonstrate.”
Trixie moved over to the kettle and retrieved a potato from pot.
“All one has to do boil these potatoes for fifteen minutes or so, and then...” she said, throwing it in another container. “Plunge them into ice water. A minute later, you pull them out, and...” she cut the potato lengthwise with a knife and instantly removed the skin. “Voila! You have a peeled potato in ten seconds flat!”
“I'm impressed,” Sister Sparkle said. “I'm curious though, where did you learn this from?”
“I already knew it,” Trixie replied.
“Uh-huh, I don't believe you. Really, who taught you?”
“Okay, fine,” Trixie said indignantly. “It was one of the sisters. But I did all the work, I'll have you know.”
“I can see that,” Sister Sparkle said, looking over one of the peeled potatoes. “Well congratulations, Trixie. You've completed your first task. Maybe you will stay more than a week...maybe.”
“A week? Bah! Trixie can stay here until the judgment day.”
“Be careful what you boast,” Sister Sparkle warned. “There are prophecies in ponies' words.”
“Well, Trixie doesn't like to brag, but...”
“Then don't,” Sister Sparkle said, cutting her off abruptly.
Trixie was taken aback at the sister's reprieve.
“Right, right, sorry...” she said, looking down.
Sister Sparkle approached her put a hand on her shoulder.
“Here, let us go and help the other sisters, shall we?”
“Alright...” Trixie said, giving a small smile.
The two of them spent the rest of the evening in the kitchen, helping the other sisters prepare the meal. When all the preparations were done, the sisters assembled into the dining hall to the ringing of bells and a short prayer was given; after which, the food was served.
Trixie, who had not eaten since this morning, eagerly devoured her dinner, which consisted of a hearty amount of boiled vegetables, a piece of bread, and of course, some baked potato bits – but curiously, no meat. This, however, didn't bother Trixie, as she had long ago adopted a vegetarian diet.
The meal passed silently until an hour or so passed, where at once, the sisters made their way to back to the chapel, in the same way as they had earlier that day.
Sitting in the same seat she had previously, Trixie watched as the evening prayer and the Holy Mother's blessing was recited, at which point, the day was concluded, and the sisters retired.
Trixie followed the sisters back to their quarters and then to her room, where she eagerly dressed into her nightgown and jumped into her wooden bed, thoroughly exhausted.
“What a day...” she remarked to herself as she felt the tender embrace of the night overcome her.
Just as she was closing her eyes though, there was a knock at the door.
Trixie sat up in her bed.
“Come in?”
The door opened and Sister Sparkle entered.
“Oh, I'm sorry,” the Sister said, “I didn't know you were already in bed.”
“It's fine,” Trixie replied, stretching. “Did you want anything?”
“No,” the Sister smiled. “Just wanted to see how you found your first day here.”
“Well, it's certainly...different,” Trixie said.
“I also wanted to apologize, about earlier,” the Sister continued. “I think I underestimated. After being here so long, I think have grown a bit cynical of new-comers, which I know reflects poorly on myself and the fellows sisters. It was wrong of me to say what I did about you, and for that, I ask your forgiveness.”
Trixie stared at her for a moment. She had almost forgotten about Sister Sparkle's earlier derisions, but for some reason, she couldn't help but feel moved by her act of self-reproach.
“It's fine,” Trixie said. “I know I don't really belong here. I'm an outsider, after all. But that doesn't mean we can't get along, does it?”
“Not at all,” Sister Sparkle replied, smiling softly. “We can...help each other.”
“Sounds good,” Trixie said. “Is there anything else you want, Sister Sparkle?”
“No, that's all,” she said, turning towards the door. “Other than: I hope you sleep well, because tomorrow, we start the hard stuff...”
Trixie's eyes widened.
“This wasn't hard?”
“Not even close,” she said as she leaned on the door frame, chuckling. “Sick-duty stuff, really.”
“You let your sick handle the food?” Trixie asked.
“You know what I mean,” Sister Sparkle replied. “Look – The morning service starts at five. I'll wake you up the first few times, but after that, you're on your own.”
“Seems a bit early...” Trixie said.
Don't worry,” Sister Sparkle replied. “You'll get used to it.”
“Is that all?” Trixie asked, slightly annoyed at Sister Sparkle's enthusiasm.
“Nope, that's everything,” she said, her hand already on the door. “Other than that, I guess I will see you in the morning.”
“Likewise.”
“Goodnight, Trixie.”
“Goodnight.”
The door clanked shut, leaving the room in darkness. Trixie fell back on her bed and listened as Sister Sparkle's footsteps descended down the hall until they were faint echoes, then everything was silent.
In the soft stillness, Trixie tossed and turned as she replayed the day's events over in her mind. Just this morning she had awoken in her parent's home, surrounded by everything she could possibly need or want, and now was going to bed in perhaps the most austere bedroom imaginable.
The contrast was striking, yet Trixie was not in despair.
Just a month, she thought to herself as she held pillow. Just a month and the I'm gone.
Though Trixie wondered if it would be as bad as she had first thought. Maybe it was merely the first impression that gave it such an intimidating feeling? She had been received warmly enough, and her tutor, at least, did not despise her...
Her tutor...
Trixie's mind suddenly drifted back to thoughts of Sister Sparkle.
There's something off about her, Trixie thought. She seems like she's hiding something....but what?
Trixie pondered whether this was true, or if it was just her imagination playing tricks on her. She had always been a good judge of character, or so she believed; yet, there was something cryptic about the sister, something she couldn't decipher.
What could it be?
Trixie mulled on this as she yawned and pulled the blanket closer over her shoulders.
I guess I'll figure it out tomorrow...