> The Many Faces of Trixie Lulamoon > by Mystic Mind > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > The Great Non-Binary Trixie > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- By all accounts, Trixie’s trans-Equestrian tour was a rip-roaring success. Every show sold out, with ponies queuing for hours to get the best seats in the house. All she had to say was, “May I have a volunteer?” and a cascade of hooves would shoot straight up, competing for a chance to be part of the greatly renowned magic show. The time was six-fifty in the evening, ten minutes before the show was due to start. Trixie sat in her dressing room, preparing herself both mentally and physically while the stagehooves did their work. Carefully balancing her mascara brush in her magic, she dabbed a streak of red eyeliner across her face. Once that was done, she leant forward and rested her elbows on the desktop, staring deep into her mirror’s reflection. As always, her opening act would harken back to her lowest point. How ironic, she thought. The Alicorn Amulet almost ruined me, yet here I am. Talk about a wake-up call. Spiking her mane with gel, she cast her mind back to her fateful magic duel with Twilight Sparkle. Out of all the regrets she carried, this one burnt the most, like the smouldering ashes of an extinguished coal fire. But just as charcoal had multiple uses, so too could she use these memories to her advantage. With Starlight’s help, she made it her mission to create a fresh storyline for each trick, starting with the possessed tyrant. New characters, new setup, new twists, all created to misdirect even the most jaded of magic critics, giving the audience the time of their lives. She’d spent years winning back the hearts and minds of Equestria’s citizens, transforming every dark scowl or shaky apprehension into wide-eyed amazement. Of course, there was more to her than what the public saw; the same could be said for any celebrity, Twilight Sparkle included. The Alicorn Amulet had gotten her to re-evaluate herself, though not many would guess that. Leaning on her chair’s back, she kicked her hooves up and sighed, rubbing her face down its length. Starlight, of course, knew who she really was – as did Twilight and her friends. Her gender identity was sort of an open secret between them. It wasn’t open enough. In asking her friends to keep it between themselves, she had restricted a core fact about herself. She’d been accepted well enough so far, so what was stopping her from going public about it? Out of all the things Trixie could state about herself, having pride in her true gender could hardly be considered awful. Of course, she couldn’t get rid of bigots altogether. Trixie will simply look down her nose at them. They could blow hot air all they liked. It makes no difference to Trixie. She will always be louder. They had probably already found a reason to hate her, anyway. Which, Trixie admits, she may deserve… Why would they even come to her show? Perhaps revenge for Trixie’s past wrongs? Well, that had nothing to do with her identity. There was no way they could weaponize that. Maybe if they twisted it. Would they even believe her? Would they laugh it off as part of the act? Would they reject her? Would they…? “Ugh!” she groaned, slamming her forehooves down on the desk. This was getting ridiculous! She’d wanted to come out before the first show of her tour, but the first had become the second, the second became the third, and now, here she was. Nineteen shows done, still in the closet. Time and again she’d walked out on stage, performed, and then scurried back to her dressing room like her life depended on it. A series of soft knocks caught her attention. “Who is it?” “It’s just me, Trixie. Can I come in?”  “Well, you can,” Trixie snickered. “But I’m barely dressed. Trixie hopes that won’t be a problem.” “Oh, no trouble at all,” Starlight giggled back, twisting the knob and pushing the door in. Dressed in her white ‘cultist’ robes, she’d splodged dark circles beneath her eyes, ready for the performance. “I heard a thump. Penny for your thoughts?” “Not much to say,” Trixie grumbled. “Just Trixie being fussy, as always.” “Oh. Would you like a hug?” “Yes, please.” Sitting down next to her, Starlight reached over Trixie’s shoulder and pulled her in, gently stroking her mane. “Whatever you decide, you know I’ll still love you, right?” “I know, I know,” Trixie sighed. “I just wish I could let myself believe it.” “Yeah, trusting yourself is hard, I know.” Starlight leant over and kissed Trixie above her horn. “But you’ll get there. I know you will.” Trixie closed her eyes a moment, letting her intrusive thoughts melt away with Starlight’s embrace, leaving her mind open to the gentle glow of happy memories with her marefriend. She remembered the day Starlight proposed to her. Her heart had burst from joy, filling her with so much love, she could barely croak out her yes. Every day spent with her was a treasure. “I think the stage should all be set by now,” Starlight said. “Ready to start the show?” “I don’t see why not. My adoring audience awaits!” The house lights dimmed, and the curtains parted. A light fog rolled across the stage, and the eerie, resonant hum of the pre-recorded double-bass helped set the mood. Suddenly, there was a bang, and many audience members jumped in their seats. In a flash of magic, a pair of deep-red glowing eyes cut through the darkness. Trixie leapt into the spotlight, hooves clattering against the wooden stage. “Welcome, one all,” she bellowed, magically enhancing her voice. “To the wondrous show of the Great and Powerful: Trixie!” Every eye in the house fixated on her, roaring in a cascade of clapping, cheering and hollering. Basking in the brilliant energy of their excitement, Trixie smiled. This was what she lived for—what she craved; the overwhelming approval of a sold-out show. It was a feeling she likened to life as a changeling, absorbing the rejuvenating aura spawned from her dedication to the stage magic arts. She couldn’t wait to give them the time of their lives. “Without further ado, let’s get tonight’s show started! Starlight, the magic blocker, if you please.” Shambling across the stage, Starlight kept her head bowed, revealing her blank expression once she’d reached Trixie. The contraption she carried was a thick cone of metal, designed to fit snugly over a unicorn’s horn. It was a simple, largely antiquated device by the standards of modern Equestria – but this was less important compared to its fearsome appearance. She clamped the device down over Trixie’s horn with an audible click, then set about binding her legs together through two pairs of iron cuffs. Deep, echoing chants added to the musical swells, heralding the spotlight reveal of three, heavy wooden caskets, propped up vertically at the rear of the stage. Encircled by candles and wrapped in a mixture of faux-leather and red velvet, each casket was an intimidating sight on its own. Etched into the casket doors, there were three symbols, each representing Equestria’s most infamous villains: One for Tirek, the power-hungry centaur; one for Nightmare Moon, the jealous sister; another for Queen Chrysalis, the shape-shifting changeling queen. As more cultists shambled on stage, keen-eyed viewers would spot small details woven into each of their robes: patterns resembling curved horns, insectoid wings and dark stars. With the scene set, the trick could truly begin. Starlight yanked hard on the binding chains, lurching Trixie forward into a limping march, almost tripping her up as she struggled against her restraints. It made little difference, of course. The cultists swarmed over her, lifting her up and shoving her into the middle casket as the choral chants reached their peak. One by one, the heavy doors were slammed shut, locked up tight with heavy bolts and long chains. Starlight made sure to spin them around, demonstrating the lack of any secret doors or escape routes. “Oh, mighty lords of chaos!” Starlight announced. “Hear our prayers, accept our offering!” Silence. Trixie smiled. She had them in the cleft of her hoof. Another bang shot off, eliciting yet more startled gasps. She knew the popcorn would be flying already. “Hear my words, Lords—” Starlight paused. There was a sound coming from the leftmost casket. “By the jaws of Tirek, devourer of magic!” Snap “By the wings of Chrysalis, the ever-changing!” Shudder “By the horn of Nightmare Moon, bringer of eternal night!” Bang! The chains fell off and the door swung open. The red glow pulsated behind a cover of mist. Out from the casket strode Trixie, but not as the audience knew him. He was a Stallion. A square-muzzled, broad-shouldered, short-haired stallion. His coat matched the original Trixie’s colour, his costume was identical – even his cutie mark symbol matched. It would take hours of nit-picking for any pony to tell the difference. For all intents and purposes, this was still the Trixie Lulamoon. Well, not exactly, but Trixie was getting to that. He bowed gracefully, but didn’t wait for the audience’s reaction. Rather, he gestured over to his left, directing attention to the far-opposing casket that had just started to rattle. Starlight wasted no time slipping back into character. “By the Horn of Nightmare Moon…” This time, the Trixie that emerged from a casket was the original, female version – though there were still some variations. While her male clone sported a thick, bushy beard, fem-Trixie had extended eyelashes and more pronounced make-up. Physically, she was the opposite of masc-Trixie in every way. Masc-Trixie grinned, arching his eyebrow and eyeing the fem-Trixie up and down, as if checking out the graceful curves of her body. Fem-Trixie, of course, played into this, winking back at masc-Trixie and blowing him a kiss. That left only one major prop unopened, though who or what it contained was anypony’s guess. Fem-Trixie smiled. That was her favourite part. Once Starlight invoked the name of Chrysalis, they presented themselves in all their transformed glory. The other two Trixies looked at each other, then at the one in the middle. Their appearance was a mixture of both masculine and feminine, with fem-Trixie’s narrow shoulders and masc-Trixie’s rectangular jaw. The three Trixies bowed to the revitalised applause. Dropping to their haunches, the androgynous Trixie pulled in her clones for a celebratory hug, much to the delighted coos of many. A small sigh escaped the andro-Trixie’s lips. Oh, how they envied the lives of changelings, able to transform their bodies to virtually any shape their heart desired! Trixie would maintain their clones for the duration of the show, but regardless of the method, this was still just an illusion – temporary glimpses into the fun-house mirrors of her own shifting existence. The clones helped to keep the audience occupied while Trixie changed between costumes and setpieces. They bantered back and forth, performing an assortment of close-up magic alongside volunteers from the audience. They still helped to perform the more elaborate, dangerous tricks, but acted more as extras rather than becoming the subjects themselves. After nearly two hours’ worth of flashy explosions, death-defying escapes and impossible contortions, the show came to an end. Standing hoof-in-hoof with Starlight and their clones, they all took a bow together, thanking the audience for their time and adoration which made their shows possible. Trixie turned to leave, but as the curtains started to lower, they paused, something catching their eye. Sitting on the front row was a small family of three changelings, their green-and-yellow chitin standing out even amongst a sea of pastel-coloured fur. The child was bouncing in their seat, their compound eyes sparkling as they transformed back and forth in mimicry of Trixie’s clones. The sight of changelings had become commonplace across Equestria, among various other creatures. There were Griffons, Yak, and even a Kirin or two at every show. Now that they thought about it, this tour had been gaining popularity amongst the changeling communities. A quick head count showed they were almost as numerous as the pony guests. What was it about unicorn magic that fascinated them so? “Wait!” The curtain halted, and Trixie gestured to roll it back up. Most of the audience was already getting up to leave, but they stopped upon hearing the unexpected call for attention. “There’s… something I’ve been meaning to tell you all.” Trixie swallowed hard and looked at Starlight. She nodded back with a soft, encouraging smile. “Normally, a magician never reveals the secret of their tricks,” they continued. “So, if any creature doesn’t want to know, you are welcome to leave now, but there’s something I need to tell you all about my opening act.” Many of the audience ponies looked at each other, chattering uncertainly in quiet murmurs over Trixie’s sudden proclamation. Trixie fully expected most to walk out, but to their surprise, no creature did. The changelings seemed especially fixated; their eyes were glued to the stage – as if they’d picked up on Trixie’s emotions. “When the trick began, I put a magic limiter on my horn. It was not a prop, nor was it rigged in a way that rendered it inoperative. I do not have any changelings amongst my crew of extras, either.” With a stamp of their hoof, the clones vanished, leaving a pair of jade spirals clattering to the ground in their place. Trixie’s androgynous appearance vanished with them, returning her appearance to her natural, less exaggerated state of femininity. “These gemstones were enchanted before-hoof, responding to a magical trigger within the caskets themselves. I wanted them to have a degree of limited autonomy, so the spell granting them sentience was somewhat complex. But more importantly, they were, and still are, versions of me – in a sense.” She bit her lip. There was no going back now. She had promised a purpose, and it was time to deliver. “You see, I am not a mare or a stallion. I am transgender, but also non-binary. I am genderfluid, and what you saw tonight were just a few of the many ways I experience gender. There are days where I am masculine, others feminine, but most of the time, it’s somewhere in between. You are welcome to use any pronouns in referring to me—he, she, it, whatever—as those words are as diverse as the qualities that make me, Trixie Lulamoon.” Her speech ended, but there was no reaction. It was like time had stopped, freezing every creature to the spot. Trixie’s heart sank, her budding hearth of courage replaced by the cold embers of rejection. For once, she thought her paranoia was right. She was about to cue the curtains to close again when a sound caught her ear. It sounded like… a buzz? Something caught her leg, warm, yet smooth. She looked down, and there was the changeling child, nuzzling her leg. The smile plastered across their face was the giddiest she’d ever seen. “Mommy! Daddy! look!” The child said. “She’s like me.” The parents clapped. Then the other changelings clapped. Applause rippled outwards with more and more creatures joining in until the theatre was once more filled with the natural cadence of unanimous approval. “Thank you, little friend,” Trixie said, gently returning one of the most important hugs of her life. Starlight, of course, wasn’t one to be left out, either. She almost pounced on Trixie, giving her a long, passionate kiss. There had never been a better time to be wrong, and if all it took to silence her fears was one little changeling, then conquering other fears may not be so hard after all. For a moment, Trixie considered how she may amend her title. The Great, Non-Binary: Trixie she thought. Simple, but effective.