All was hushed, in the tower room adjacent to the Library Annex at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. For the Great and Powerful Trixie was about to face the most difficult, most challenging, most hoof-biting feat of her entire career...

... sitting quietly, not uttering a word, whilst another pony struggled with the simplest of illusions. And it was one of her personal favorites, besides...

TING... TING... CLATTER.

"Oh, sherbet!" Starlight Glimmer muttered crossly. Then, remembering she was "on stage", so to speak, the lavender unicorn spoke up more loudly, facing the otherwise empty room. "Well... I'm baffled, folks! They were linked before, but they sure aren't now. Would you assist me in examining them again, my helpful volunteer from the audience?"

Trixie nodded, and accommodatingly took the steel hoop that she was offered, apparently at random. She made a show of feeling around it with her forehooves, verifying that it was solid, while Starlight did the same with the one she still held. Then, taking the ring back from her, Starlight presented them both with a flourish.

"All right, here we go again... on three... one, two, three..."

TING... TING... SMACK.

"Ow!" Starlight ruefully sucked her injured hoof. Then she sighed, and looked helplessly at Trixie.

"I give up... what am I doing wrong?"

"You've nearly got it, Starlight," Trixie said encouragingly. "Nearly. And great recovery, by the way -- when things don't go quite the way you plan, keep your audience in mind. Give them the chance to be on your side. Remember, they want the trick to work as much as you do. You just need to keep it cool, help them believe that eventually it will work, that you were only making a show of flubbing it."

"I just can't seem to get the crash link part right." Starlight frowned at the rings in her hooves. "It's so hard. It needs such precision!"

"Oh, nonsense." Trixie casually took the rings from her -- first the one, then the other, letting them gently clink together as they rested on the curl of her fetlock. "That's actually the least part of the trick. There's a flaw in one of the rings, you see, and you just need to keep it mind, make sure it's in the right place at the right time. The trick itself is in the patter, the presentation -- the showponyship. Keeping up a steady pace, a steady rhythm. Lulling the audience's suspicions, bit by bit. And then, all at once -- hey presto!"

She casually let one of the rings slip from her hoof. TING. It hung gently from the other, already linked.

Starlight giggled. "See! That's what I mean. You make it look so easy!"

"Pfuh! It just takes practice, bestie!" Trixie said. Taking hold of the rings with both hooves, she tugged at them, ostentatiously making them clink and clatter, apparently solidly connected. "Not to mention presence on the stage, and total, unstinting confidence in yourself... and we both know I've got that, right?"

Starlight laughed, and nodded. Trixie laughed right along with her, at the same time eyeing her friend, making sure Starlight was no longer hung up on her failure. After all, the worst way to master a trick was to struggle with it, beat your head against it, cementing your own sense of inadequacy...

... unless of course, that was part of the trick too...

Trixie stared at the rings, as if baffled by them herself. And then, subtly shifting her hoof-grip on the left one, she looked straight at Starlight...

And held out the other ring, unlinked.

"Here, let's do another practice run," Trixie suggested. "Just so you get used to the props. Then we'll work on the pitch and pacing some more, help you get that down."

"Thanks, Trixie." Starlight took the rings, and let Trixie show her how to position them again. Then she tapped them together.

TING... TING... CLINK.

"Hey!" Starlight said proudly. "Voila!"

"There, you see? Nothing to it!" Trixie said. "Just practice that move a few times, Starlight, and you'll be playing these things like tambourines."

"I just might be." Starlight nodded. "You're a great teacher, Trixie."

"A Great and Powerful Teacher!" Trixie reminded her, smugly. "And don't you never forget it!"

"Absolutely!" Starlight agreed. "Were you always this good? I mean, did somepony just pull you out of a hat or something, already able to do magic like this?"

Trixie abruptly fell silent, looking sad.

"What is it?" Starlight asked, concerned.

"Nothing, Starlight," Trixie said quickly. "And no, Trixie wasn't always this good. It took a lot of work, just getting here." Then she brightened up a little. "But I had a couple really good teachers, helping me along."

"Wow!" Starlight said. "I'll bet they were Great and Powerful, too -- right?"

Trixie nodded, a distant look on her face.

"You have no idea, Starlight... none at all."

"'But oh, beamish nephew, beware of the day,
If your Snark be a Boojum! For then
You will softly and suddenly vanish away,
And never be met with again!'
-- The Hunting of the Snark, by Lewis Carroll

It was a quiet, unremarkable town, and a small, unremarkable house, and a perfectly ordinary, rather tackily-decorated living room. But none of that mattered. Because the talented young unicorn filly, seated on the floor in the middle of the living room, was about to perform the greatest of great, all-time, death-defying feats...

... the Dreaded... Amazing... Never-Before-Seen...

"Rope Cut-And-Restore Trick For Beginners," Patricia Pot dutifully read in a flat monotone, from the open book beside her. "Variant Three... Step One..."

Patricia despised her name. Her parents had rarely been able to see eye to eye on anything. Her father had wanted a simple family name, something along the lines of "Honey Pot" or "Paint Pot". Her mother, by contrast, had wanted something a little grander, a little nobler, her favorite being "Patrician Shores". In the end they'd uneasily compromised, and thereby landed Patricia with her ungainly, meaningless mish-mash of a name.

Small wonder, then, that she preferred her father's nickname for her: Trixie.

Brushing back her light-blue mane, Patricia fired up her horn. The magenta gleam of her telekinesis spell grabbed the length of rope before her, then wound it into a somewhat messy but serviceable knot, as the book indicated.

Patricia sighed. That was always the easy part.

Landing the rope on her left forehoof, she nabbed the iron suppression ring with her right and gently slipped it on over her horn.

She grinned, imagining her father Jack Pot, working the trick with her...

There we go... no cheating now, Trixie!

As the ring clinked into place, she felt the deadening of her sensitivity. It was an uncomfortable, muffled feeling, like having her ears plugged up, but on magic wavelengths. The only thing she could sense was the tingling pulse of her own magic reserves, as she glanced at the book again and then took up the small pair of safety hoof-scissors.

"Better get it right this time, Trixie," Patricia warned herself. "We're running out of rope here..."

She presented the knot to her unseen audience.

"And now," she said, belatedly remembering to deepen her voice, both to increase the dramatic effect and to mask her natural filly squeakiness, "I shall cut... no, sever the rope -- thus!"

The scissors clamped onto the rope but refused to cut properly. Patricia smiled gamely at her invisible audience. Then, gritting her teeth and grunting, she painfully worked the lever on the scissors with her hoof-tip. The bristly cord dug painfully into her left fetlock. She could feel a cramp developing in the hoof working the scissors. Nevertheless, she pushed determinedly through the pain, and finally felt the rope yield, with a sharp clack of the scissors.

Dropping the scissors, she glared at her unseen audience. "You think the rope has been cut?" she challenged. She dramatically gestured with the rope... then quickly dodged as the swinging knot almost hit her square in the face. "Well, think again!" she said grandly. "For I shall show you... it is whole!"

She gripped the rope's end with her free hoof, tugged firmly...

... and the rope fell open cleanly, apparently unharmed. The cut end piece was firmly gripped between her hoof and fetlock, appearing to be part of the uncut length.

Patricia stared at the rope in disbelief.

"I did it!" she yelled, beside herself. "I-did-it-I-did-it-I-did-it!"

She swept the rope left and right, presenting it proudly to the shouting, cheering, stamping throngs of her imaginary audience. "Thank you! Thank you all! You're too kind!" Patricia took several deep bows. Then she stared at the rope again. She hugged it to herself happily, not wanting to let go, not wanting the good feeling to end...

The door behind her opened. Her mother, Showcase, trotted in with a weary sigh. The almond-yellow mare shrugged her work carryall off beside the door, then kicked the door shut behind her.

Patricia jumped up and ran to her, waving the rope like a prize-winning fish.

"Mom! I got the rope trick to work!"

She suddenly realized her mother was glaring at her, in astonished, uncontrollable rage.

A hoof caught Patricia across the face -- hard.

The rope fell from her stunned grasp. There was an unpleasant taste in her mouth, and an uncomfortable, raw sensation in her snout -- like being suddenly aware of her own sinuses.

And then she found herself hauled up, in her mother's angry forehooves.

"Patricia Pot!" her mother groaned. "What is wrong with you! Don't you think I have enough to deal with? And this... this is how you're wasting your time? On magic tricks! On his magic tricks! Patricia! Are you trying to drive me INSANE?"

Patricia was too startled to reply. Then, all at once, she found herself being thrust away, flung away from her mother, in utter disgust.

She felt herself flying through the air, uncontrollably. She tried to use her magic, cast a Catch Me spell... and, too late, recalled the suppression ring still jammed down over her horn.

Her mother stared after her, anger turning to shock as she noticed the ring herself... her earth-pony mother, with neither wings to dart after her, nor magic to catch her...

Time seemed to slow. Patricia turned her head, saw the wall coming at her, in slow motion. She struck it heavily, spreadeagled, with a loud thump. Then she slid down to the floor into a tense, painful heap, and lay there breathlessly.

She didn't cry.

She couldn't cry.

She couldn't breathe!

Her lungs seemed to have forgotten how to draw in air. She frantically tried to force air in and out, vainly struggled to recall how breathing worked. Her mouth gaped open like a stranded fish, and she tried to swallow air, gulp it down, tried to figure out how to make as simple a trick as breathing work properly again...

Finally, she was able to draw in a long, ragged gasp of air. She lay there quietly for a moment, making sure it wasn't her last.

And then felt her mother gently take her up, hold her close. "Patricia, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to... I didn't mean to do that! I was so upset! But... you're all right now, yes, you're all right." Her mother turned her about, gently checking her over. "You'll be fine, darling. See? Nothing's broken. And I promise, I won't ever get that angry again. Not ever!"

The little filly nodded, soundlessly, wordlessly. She let herself be hugged. She let herself be apologized to. She let herself be taken to her room and put to bed to rest up.

Afterward, she heard her mother sitting in the living room, crying. And then railing at length about something she'd read in a letter. Something about Patricia's father, who was away doing shows in Las Pegasus. He'd been away for a while now. And her mother had been getting steadily angrier and angrier, all the time. And it didn't seem like things were ever going to get better again, not ever...

The little filly huddled down under the covers, still saying nothing.

There was nothing to be said.

Because her mother was wrong: something had broken... something beyond the reach of medicine, psychology, or magic to fix.

Her very soul, her ability to believe, to trust anyone at all...

... had a deep, irreparable crack in it.

And it disgusted her.

"Trixie," she told herself firmly, just as her father used to do, "you blew that trick, blew it good. So get over it! If the trick doesn't work, you smile, you take a bow... and you move on. If you're good, really good, they'll forget you ever screwed it up..."

She still didn't cry.

Trixie didn't feel like crying.

Trixie decided it was because she'd forgotten how.

That evening after supper, when she went to bed, Trixie didn't bother saying her prayers to Princess Celestia.

In fact, she decided she was never going to say them again, ever. What was the point? It never helped, as far as she could see. It was just making nice for other ponies, ponies who didn't care what she thought or felt -- only what she said, and only as long as she said it to make them happy.

Well, Trixie didn't want to make other ponies happy. Never again! Trixie wanted to amaze them! To thrill them! She wanted them to be astounded! Trixie wanted ponies to be in total awe of her -- the Greatest Stage Magician in all Equestria!

Trixie lay in her bed, in the dark, waving her hooves in the air and nodding to her imagined audience. She performed trick after perfect trick to thunderous applause, for encore after encore.

Eventually her hooves dropped to the covers, her eyes slipped shut. Sleep overcame her at last, even after everything that had happened that day.

Yet deep in the back of her mind, there lurked an old pony's tale... a cold, unforgiving superstition. It gradually surfaced, stealing away her confidence. If you don't say your prayers at night, it whispered tauntingly, Nightmare Moon will come for you! And she'll give you terrible, horrible bad dreams as punishment!

Trixie shivered, looking fearfully around the room. Things seemed much darker than she remembered. There were shadows she definitely didn't recall being there. And there was an undeniable feeling of being watched, coldly and implacably...

She took a deep breath, decided it was all her imagination.

Then she saw the eyes... peering in through the window at her.

They were large, green, and luminous, with reptilian, slit-like irises. There was a fanged mouth as well, gaping wide and glowing, like red-hot coals... it grinned hungrily at her.

Trixie gasped. She huddled under the covers, eyes shut tight, unable to move, unable to even think...

She didn't hear the window open. Yet somehow she knew she was no longer alone in the room.

She heard the heavy tread of armored hooves crossing the floor. She felt the pressure of heavy forehooves on the edge of the bed, tilting the mattress. Felt the creature's magic draw back the covers, felt hot breath washing across her face as the Nightmare leaned close... heard the powerful, remorseless cackling as the creature decided her fate...

And something snapped inside her.

Trixie decided she could no longer tolerate it. Trixie was the Greatest Stage Magician in all Equestria! She was not going to just lie here and let some all-powerful Goddess of the Night torment her. Not Trixie! Trixie would never stand for such a thing!

Trixie sat up in bed, eyes still shut tight. She swung a hoof. Hard.

And felt it connect -- painfully.

She cautiously opened her eyes.

And found herself staring at a very surprised Nightmare Moon.

"Ow," the Dark Mare said, sarcastically. "Was that actually intended to harm us, little one?"

Trixie winced, rubbing her stinging hoof. The Mare's night-silver armor was even tougher than it looked.

"Trixie," she told herself firmly, "you are not scared. You are not! And you're going to tell her so. You're going to tell her to leave you alone! Because... well, young lady, if you don't stand up for yourself... nopony else will!"

She set her mouth grimly, glaring up at the Nightmare.

Who glared back-- sternly, coldly unmoved.

Trixie faltered, then suddenly lost her nerve. She shivered miserably.

"Trixie is sorry! Please don't curse Trixie with horrible nightmares!"

Nightmare Moon tilted her head, amused. "Whyever would we do such a thing, little one? When life is already a nightmare, why add to it? Besides, we are pleased with thee! It has been a long time since anyone dared stand up to us like that." Her voice grated threateningly. Her eyes glared. "A very long time."

Then she paused, with a crafty look.

"Such strength of will is worthy. We shall have need of such as thee when the time comes. Tell me, ah... what was thy name again, small one?"

"Trixie?" It came out as a small, timid squeak.

"Only Trixie?" Nightmare Moon asked. "Nothing more?" Her voice turned silky, her look devious. "Tell me, child... what is it thou wants? More than anything? What is it thou wishes to be?"

Trixie hesitated.

Then she gritted her teeth, crossly. "Come on, Trixie!" she snapped. "Don't just sit there! Tell her! Stop that shivering, right now, young lady! You'll never be known far and wide as the Greatest Stage Magician in all Equestria if you don't start acting like it!"

She thrust out her chin boldly, her lip quivering only a tiny bit.

"Ah!" The Nightmare's eyes gleamed. "Thou wishes to be great? To be recognized, acknowledged, for what one does so well?" She nodded. "A pony after our own heart! Small wonder, then, that we were drawn to thee."

A silver-shod forehoof reached out, nudged Trixie's chin just a hair higher, as the dark mare inspected her narrowly.

"Thou shall need training, proper lessons, to accomplish this desire. And we can think of no better teacher than ourself. Would thou be willing to be our student? To learn from the very, very best?"

Trixie stared, amazed. "Lessons in real, powerful magic?"

"The darkest, blackest, strongest of all magic!" Nightmare Moon smiled. "We have not spent a millennium in study and preparation for nothing!"

"Yes! Trixie wants to learn!"

"Excellent! Dost thou accept our offer then? To learn from us? To become Great and Powerful?"

"Yes! Absolutely!"

"And to stand with us," Nightmare Moon went on, "when we should have need to call on thee?"

"It's a deal!" Trixie unhesitatingly spat on a hoof and held it out.

Nightmare Moon looked askance at that. "We shall take that as a yes. Now, little one...sleep." The Mare put out a long, black foreleg, its armored hoof-tip gently touching Trixie's forehead, just below her horn. "No more dreams tonight. Rest until morning. We shall return in good time to begin thy lessons."

She paused, and then glared darkly at Trixie. "One thing more: thou wilt not speak of us to anyone -- anyone! Are we understood?"

"Yes... Nightmare Moon..." Trixie said drowsily. "Trixie will remember. I'll be sure to tell her... when she... wakes... up..."

She fell back onto the pillow, and snored gently.

Nightmare Moon sniffed, then drew the covers over the sleeping filly, gazing down upon her with a look on her face that seemed almost fond... until you looked in her eyes, saw the implacable cold anger there.

The only one, she thought. The only one I am able to reach, to influence like this. The others could resist me, escape me -- could wake up from the nightmare.

It was Celestia's doing, no doubt. Warding the young ones' dreaming minds against the Princess of the Night. Well, the Nightmare snarled to herself, Celestia will regret that, soon enough.

She smiled.

And she will never even see it coming...

In a rush of shadows, the Mare was gone. The room was suddenly very much brighter and warmer. For it was cold and dark... very cold and dark indeed... in the Moon, where the Nightmare was imprisoned...

The next morning, Trixie was seated at her desk in the local schoolhouse. But she paid little attention to the morning's lesson. Instead, she went over her presentation for the rope-trick in her mind, again and again, making sure she had the routine down cold.

At recess she dragooned a few other fillies and colts on the playground, and nervously performed the trick for them. And they applauded willingly, begging her to show them how to do it.

"Ahem!" she told them sternly, "a good magician never reveals her secrets! And Trixie is not merely good, she is the greatest of stage magicians!"

She expected them to laugh at that, to demand to know how the trick worked. But Trixie's aloof declaration merely made them clap all the harder, and ask to see more tricks. Trixie was astounded. The applause, even from her schoolmates, was unbelievably warming and comforting. Her audience was entertained, they wanted more! She was doing it, doing stage-magic! No! She was performing stage-magic!

Yes! I am the Grrreat and Powerful Trrrixie! she thought triumphantly. It was a wonderful feeling, the most wonderful feeling she'd ever had, the most wonderful feeling in the whole entire world...

All at once, she felt a warm glow settling over her. There was a sudden, enveloping flash. Surprised, she looked at her flank... and saw she'd gotten her cutie-mark. It was a magic wand, with a swirl of gleaming magic energy.

A cutie-mark for performing stage-magic? she thought. Performing stage magic is my destiny? To Trixie it was not merely unbelievable, it was, in a word... perfect!

"Woah!" said Peach Fuzz, leaning her fat orange face closer. "You got your mark, Trixie!"

"Way to go!" Falling Domino pumped a spotted hoof.

The others oooeh and aaahed as well. Trixie barely kept from squealing herself, somehow managing to keep her stage-persona firmly in place. "Well! That just proves it, you see! Trixie wanted her mark to appear, so it did! Trixie is truly the Greatest Stage Magician in all Equestria!" She tossed her forehooves in the air, overjoyed.

This time the others did laugh a bit, thinking she was joking. But Trixie knew better. She was Nightmare Moon's student. And Trixie would show them, show them all, that she was telling the truth when... when...

... uh... hmm... whenever the time came that Nightmare Moon talked about.

Trixie wasn't sure what the Dark Mare had meant by that, exactly. But it didn't matter. Nightmare Moon had chosen Trixie, and now Trixie had gotten her cutie-mark. And so Trixie was destined to become the Greatest Showpony Who Had Ever Lived!

Excitedly, Trixie showed off her new mark around the schoolyard, loving the attention it earned her. She was already planning further tricks to add to her performance, once she could visit the library to look up more trick-books to learn them from.

And then, all at once, she came to a halt. Turning, she trotted over to a tree near the schoolhouse, and sat quietly beneath it. And fretted.

What would happen when she got home? When her mother saw her mark? After yesterday -- Trixie hurriedly shied away from that thought. It was not something she wanted to think about again, ever.

Yet what was there to do?

Her teeth gritted as she dreamt up one scenario after another, all bad. Her mind whirled, her thoughts drifted as she stared into the distance, trying to imagine a way out...

And in the midst of her whirling thoughts, a voice spoke to her... calm, gentle, and confidently regal:

"Good day to thee, young filly."

Startled, Trixie turned to look. There was a tall, proud alicorn standing next to her. Night-blue in color, with large, gentle eyes, she was attired in silver shoes and night-dark regalia, blazoned with a crescent moon.

Trixie's knowledge of Equestrian royalty was admittedly sketchier than a preschooler's crayon drawing, but even she could count how many Princesses there were at the moment -- and this one was unfamiliar. Still, her father had always taught her that a good performer never missed a chance to get in with the royals.

Uncertainly, Trixie got up and curtseyed clumsily to the Princess.

In return, the alicorn nodded her head. "We thank thee, our gracious subject. Pray be at ease."

Turning, the Princess settled herself comfortably beneath the tree. And after a moment's hesitation, Trixie did the same.

"What is thy name, little one?" the Princess asked.

"The Great and Powerful Trixie, Your Highness!"

"Indeed! A privilege then, to make thy acquaintance." The alicorn nodded indulgently, without a hint of sarcasm. "And we are..." The Princess faltered, looking deeply saddened. "We are Luna," she finally said, mournfully. She glanced about, as if looking for any way to change the subject.

Her gaze fell on Trixie's flank.

"We see thou has attained thy mark. We are pleased for thee."

"Trixie is pleased too..." Trixie winced, and hung her head sadly. "I guess."

"Thou has an unusual way of showing it." The Princess's tone was academically stern and dispassionate, yet there was just a hint of amused kindness as well. Despite herself, Trixie found the pony's somber humor strangely comforting. Whenever the night-blue pony came close to actually smiling, it seemed that nothing in the world could possibly be wrong.

Trixie sighed. "Trixie's mother will not like her mark," she said. "Yet Trixie has earned it! Stage-magic is what Trixie likes to do. Trixie wants to learn everything she can about how to be a great performer." She hunched nervously. "And Trixie doesn't know what Trixie will say to her mother, when she gets home."

"We see. Would it be of help if we walked thee home?" Luna asked. "We can discuss it along the way, perhaps determine an appropriate course of action?"

Trixie looked up at her, amazed. "Trixie would like that very much!"

"Very well, then." Luna nodded in acceptance. Then she glanced across the playground. "We see that thy teacher is calling in her charges. Thou should go too, Trixie. We shall await thee here, until after school."

Trixie goggled. "You'll wait? All that time? Nopony's ever done that for me before!"

Luna was quiet for a long moment. "We have... little else pressing on our time just now," she said. "And it is pleasant, sitting here in the open air again. More than pleasant... it is a dream come true for us. We are content, little one. Run along, now!"

"Yes, Your Highness!" Trixie curtseyed hurriedly, then ran to join the ponies lining up to return to class. As she went, she repeatedly glanced back at the Princess, resting comfortably under her tree.

Throughout the afternoon lesson, Trixie couldn't stop thinking about her, about the strange regal alicorn waiting for her outside. And when classes were finally over, she half-expected to find the Princess had gotten up and left. But Luna was still there, sitting under the tree, when Trixie stepped out through the schoolhouse door.

The Princess got up as Trixie nervously approached her, and graciously nodded at Trixie's offered curtsey. Then she fell in alongside Trixie as the two of them trotted along the path away from the school.

"We have considered a few options," Luna said, "for thou to further thy destiny as a stage magician. We think it would be wise for thou to come to Canterlot. We can better assist thee there."

"Canterlot?" Trixie stared up at her in awe... and then quickly looked down, not sure if it was polite to stare at a Princess.

"You have heard," Luna asked, " that Princess Celestia has a School for Gifted Unicorns?"

"Heard of it?" Trixie wanted to laugh. "Who hasn't! But it's pretty much just for ponies who get invited. And Trixie may be the Greatest of Stage Magicians... but Trixie knows she would not be invited."

Luna smiled. "Do not be so quick to give up. We have a certain... influence in such matters. Yet thou will need to be prepared, taught appropriate decorum, as well as the fundamentals of magic with which to make thy application." She looked down, smiling, at Trixie's startled gaze. "We would teach thee, if thou are of a mind to study as we should direct thee."

Trixie's mouth fell open. "But... what about..."

"Thy parents?" Luna asked. "We feel certain they would be proud to have their daughter studying under our tutelage."

Trixie had been about to mention Nightmare Moon, but remembered her promise not to speak of her. She shut her mouth quickly, and said nothing.

They continued together the rest of the way in companionable silence. At the door to Trixie's house, Luna abruptly came to a halt.

"We must leave thee for now, Trixie, and go make arrangements for thy visit to Canterlot... if thou are still of a mind to go."

"Trixie wants to... very much!"

"Then we look forward to greeting thee, when thou arrives." Luna nodded pleasantly. Turning, she trotted away along the road, without a second glance back.

Trixie stared after her, wanting to call after her. She felt abandoned. She felt as if the only pony who understood her at all was leaving, maybe forever...

But then Trixie decided that the Princess probably had more pressing matters on her mind than one small filly. And Trixie didn't want to risk annoying her.

Reluctantly, she turned and trotted into the house.

Her mother was home early. And to Trixie's surprise, Showcase seemed to take the appearance of Trixie's cutie-mark with little fuss. She seemed inordinately happy in fact. Picking up Trixie, she hugged her tightly, then sat down in her favorite chair with Trixie on her lap. She was tensely excited, saying she had wonderful news.

Trixie waited, anxiously. Had Nightmare Moon spoken to her mother about her plans for Trixie's lessons? Or had Princess Luna somehow sent word ahead, regarding the invitation to come to Canterlot? Were they both going to go there, so that Trixie might start her lessons properly?

Or... was it something even more incredibly amazing? For a moment Patricia stared at her mother, daring to hope... was her father coming back from Las Pegasus, to be with them again?

"Patricia, I've just been down to the courthouse. Your father and I... we're getting a divorce. It's finally official. So we won't have to wonder about whether he's coming back home any more. We'll be able to put this whole nasty business behind us, and move on. Isn't that wonderful?"

Trixie just sat there, unmoved, not saying anything.

She didn't think it was wonderful.

She didn't think it wasn't, either.

Trixie didn't care either way. Not one tiny bit. It had nothing to do with Trixie, or her plans to learn from Nightmare Moon and Princess Luna, and become the Greatest Stage Magician in all Equestria.

Within an hour, Trixie had made herself a sandwich, swiped a sack of bits for travel money, and run away from home...

... forever.

It was cold in the forest. And dark, too -- probably well after midnight. On top of that, it was raining; a thin, trickling sort of drizzle, which didn't so much make you wet as remind you, drip by drip, just how much nicer it would be to be indoors and out of it.

If you can survive the first night without turning back, Trixie reminded herself, it's probably all downhill after that... probably... But if it kept on like this, Trixie wasn't sure she'd make it. Not that she could turn back, even if she wanted to. Trixie had no idea where she was any longer.

She huddled among the roots of a gnarled old oak, shivering. She'd managed to collect a pitiful pile of kindling and branches, but lacked even a simple pyromancy spell to spark them alight. She was tired from pushing through the brambles all day. And scratched, and scraped. And bug-bitten and itchy. And hungry. And cold and wet. And tired too... or did I already count that?

Her thoughts rambling unhappily round and round in this way, Trixie's eyes gradually slid closed.

"There you are, our student," snapped a cold, imperious voice from the darkness. "We had begun to wonder what had become of thee."

Trixie looked up, surprised. It was Nightmare Moon, a shadow among shadows in the gloom. Only the poisonous gleam of her eyes and the hot, infernal glow of her mouth lit the darkness.

Trixie knew she ought to have been scared by that, yet somehow she wasn't. She felt almost comforted by the leering, grinning shape, looming over her. After all, nothing else out here could be half so threatening, right?

"Trixie was headed for Canterlot," she said miserably, "but got lost."

"Canterlot?" The Nightmare raised an eyebrow in surprise. Then she nodded, smiling. "That is perfect. We had thought of sending thee there eventually, but this saves time. Capital initiative, young one! Continue."

"And, well... it got dark. Trixie tried to build a fire, but --"

"Oh, come now!" Nightmare Moon interrupted. "A flame spell should be short work for such a powerful sorceress."

"Of course it is! But... well, Trixie is not sure she is as skilled in it as she ought to be. Could you maybe... teach Trixie how?"

"Easily... and it shall make a fine first lesson for us."

The Nightmare explained it, curtly but thoroughly. And Trixie listened carefully. Then Trixie fired up her horn, thought through the words of the spell, and triggered it.

The kindling caught fire, damp as it was. The flames engulfed the branches, crackling merrily.

"Woo hoo hoo!" Trixie clapped her hooves. "Trixie has never done that before! Ahem... not nearly so well I mean!"

"Thou are a quick study," Nightmare Moon observed. "That is well, for there is much to be done. Thou will never make it to Canterlot at this rate, certainly not without shelter from the elements."

She glanced around, as if orienting herself... and then grinned evilly.

"And we know just where to begin. Now, when thou has warmed thyself, our attentive student, this is what we wish thee to do..."

The cave opening was huge, set in a massive cliff-face deep in the forest. Trixie felt particularly small and vulnerable as she tip-hoofed inside, her horn singing gently to provide a light.

After a couple turns the stone passage widened into a vast chamber. And Trixie came to a dead halt, holding her breath in fear, wishing that her horn made less noise.

Before her, like a small hillock made of blue, star-spangled mist, there was an enormous Ursa, wheezing gently in its slumbers. As she watched in terror, it sniffed, snuffed, and then opened one huge golden eye, staring at her.

And then shut it again, resettling its massive bulk comfortably.

The Ursa is our creature, the Nightmare had told her. It will recognize thee, as it does all those who serve us. And it will not harm thee -- so long as it is not unduly roused. Just tread softly near it, our student, and all shall be well.

Trixie trotted past the sleeping Ursa as quietly as she could. Then she looked back at it -- and grinned. Once again, she thought proudly, the Great and Powerful Trixie demonstrates her legendary skill, by vanquishing the dreaded Ursa Major!

The sleeping Ursa snorted in its slumbers, and Trixie froze, her eyes wide. Then, her teeth chattering, the Great and Powerful Trixie decided it would probably be wiser to press on. So many things to do, after all...

Farther on, the tunnel narrowed again, and to the right a short spur led off. Following this, Trixie came to an apparent dead end.

Use thy magic, and form our sign, the Nightmare had said. The Mark of our imprisonment: the Moon and Stars. The Mare had snickered nastily at that. It is regarded with superstition now, but was adopted by our followers, early on after the Banishment -- our faithful made it their own. Were it not for Celestia's interference it might be looked upon with devout reverence, even today...

Trixie's horn sang, using the particular variant of the luminance spell that Nightmare Moon had taught her. In the air before her, a crescent Moon and its attendant Shepherd Stars appeared, in glowing arcs of light.

The wall ahead became translucent, revealing a chamber beyond. Trixie quickly trotted ahead through the illusory wall, then released the spell, allowing the wall to resume its normal appearance. She found herself in what appeared to be a small arcane temple, with crumbling wooden chairs set around an inlaid magic circle, in the center of which was the Moon and Stars, worked in fine silver filigree.

Following the Nightmare's instructions, Trixie trotted past the circle, then left through a side opening into a smaller chamber. Here she found shelves of old books and scrolls, and racks hung with large, hooded robes and golden necklace-chains. Against the far wall was a small chest, with heavy hasps and an ancient magic padlock. Using the spell she'd been taught, Trixie unlocked the chest and then threw the lid open.

She gasped. It was full to the brim with bits. The shimmering of reflected gold highlights filled the small chamber as Trixie dug her forehooves into the pile, then let the coins trickle through her grasp.

One of the few caches, the Nightmare had told her, that has not yet been plundered by tomb-robbers and fortune-seekers. But it will be more than enough for our purposes. Spend it charily, Trixie. It must serve until thou are ready to stand on thy own.

"Okay," Trixie said to herself. "Step one, get rich. Easy enough, for such a Great and Powerful student of the Dark Mare. Now for step two..."

"Why, hello there, little lady!" The gangling, red-maned unicorn colt doffed his straw hat. "And what can we do for you this fine morning?"

"Trixie wants to buy that wagon, over there." She pointed across the open space in front of the barn. The place was a hodge-podge of half-disassembled carts, carriages, wheelbarrows, and other less-identifiable contraptions. The red-roofed wagon standing near the barn was very nearly the only road-worthy vehicle in sight.

The colt glanced briefly at his nearly-identical brother, grinning in amusement. "And what would you be using to pay for it, missy? Damp roses? Kitten whiskers?" He snorted. "Run along and play, there's a good girl. We've got a lot of hard inventing work ahead of us today!"

"Indeed we do, brother! The Bale-o-Matic 2000 isn't going to invent itself, you know!"

Trixie held up a bit-bag and jerked it. It clinked expensively. "Trixie has bits... unless that's not good enough for you?"

She instantly had their undivided attention.

"Well, then! Step right this way, young lady!" They accompanied her over to the wagon, winking to each other over her head, mistakenly thinking she didn't notice.

"Now this here's a gen-u-ine travelling the-a-ter carriage," the left-hand brother said.

"The front folds out, into a performance stage," the right-hand one added. "And there's plenty of room inside for props and the like!"

They went on, smoothly alternating back and forth, gesturing grandly with their forehooves: "It has a stove! ... A bunk-bed! ... Leaf-spring suspension to tame those bumpy back roads! ... Comfort padding on the quality leather traces! ... All-natural raw-wood finish! ... Very lightly used! ... In top condition!"

"You won't find better for miles, I'd wager," the right-hand colt concluded. "And all for the low-low-low price of..."

He named a figure. Which was already outrageously inflated.

"Plus, the storage-and-detailing fee," the other said. Which set them off again. "And transfer of title... And the local excise tax, of course... And the overhead-and-depreciation recovery charge... And pre-payment of the annual amusements-and-games license..."

"Sadly necessary," the right-hand brother concluded. "But all quite legal and above-board... and mandatory on all sales!" he added quickly. "We must keep on the up-and-up if we want our little workshop business to thrive, mustn't we, brother?"

"Indubitably, brother!" The other nodded.

They both smiled at Trixie.

Who smiled right back at them.

"I know where you got this wagon," she said flatly. "I know who you cheated to get it. How you left him by the side of the road, penniless and desperate. How he's never been heard from again... and you're hoping that it stays that way. Hoping no nosy busybodies from town come by asking questions about him."

They stared at her, frozen and wide-eyed.

She jingled the bit-bag again. "Trixie thinks this will cover her taking it off your hooves. Quietly."

The left-hand brother gulped nervously, and looked at his sibling.

"I think... we have a sale, eh, brother?"

"Oh! Without question, brother..."

The bespectacled mare behind the counter at the Grandmare's Attic antiques shop watched in some bemusement as, one by one, items were pushed up onto the countertop by a pair of blue forehooves.

"Well, I must say, deary," she said, as the filly finally clambered up onto a convenient keg, putting herself in view. "You've got the showfolk's eye. That's just about every piece of trick equipment I've got in the place. You planning on putting on a magic show or something?"

"Something like that," Trixie acknowledged. "So, how much?"

The mare reached for a top-hat, and began examining it. "This will take some time to appraise properly..."

"For all of it," Trixie said, curtly, hooves on her hips. "The lot. And no haggling. Bottom price."

The shopkeeper eyed Trixie over the rims of her spectacles. "Afraid that's not how it's done around here, young lady."

"Oh, Trixie thinks it is." Looking around, Trixie fixed her gaze on a large, expensive-looking vase nearby. Almost too fast to see, she snatched a buckeye from a bin on the counter and slung it at the vase. The vase shattered, in a cloud of dust and shards.

"Oh my word!" The keeper gasped. Then she glared at Trixie. "That's going to cost you, missy!"

"What are you so upset about?" Trixie grinned. "Trixie knew it was a fake!"

"What? Now just a minute! What do you mean --"

"Most of this stuff is fake," Trixie interrupted curtly, waving a hoof. "Plaster and paste, and cheap board, and local dyes and cloth. And marked up a lot... way too much. You've been getting away with it for years, preying on ponies passing through who don't know any better. Because nopony's ever said anything." She crossed her forehooves. "But Trixie knows better. And Trixie knows just who might like to see your little shop closed down... if Trixie doen't get a price she likes."

"I... see." The shopkeeper set down the top hat. She put her hooves on the counter edge. Fixed Trixie with a firm gaze.

"Would you be wantin' all this delivered somewhere?" she asked, meekly.

Trixie waved farewell to the delivery ponies, then trotted up the back stairs of the wagon and into her new home. Within, as promised, she found a small but snug bunk, a compact woodstove, a complicated-looking mechanism for folding out the side wall of the thing to form a temporary performance stage...

... and props. Magic props. The shelves were stocked with bins, containing magic wands, trick flowers, magic rings, strings of colored hoofkerchiefs, dozens of other items. And all of it hers... all of it Trixie's. It was like Hearth's Warming Eve come early! Trixie clapped her hooves and squealed with excitement.

And it was all so easy. With the Nightmare's guidance, with her ability to see into ponies' dreams, Trixie was privy to all their little secrets. She knew just where the levers were, and how hard to push them. Trixie held all the cards!

It was nice, she decided, being the Dark Mare's student!

Now, which trick shall the Great and Powerful Trixie start with? she thought. How shall she begin her rise to fame and fortune?

Her eye fell on a small prop-bucket they'd put up on a shelf, where she couldn't quite see into it. Reaching up and tilting it with a hoof, she saw it was piled full of small gray spheres.

One of which rolled off the pile and fell to the floorboards.

There was a loud explosion, and the wagon was suddenly filled with dense, choking, obscuring smoke.

Coughing, her eyes watering, Trixie floundered her way to the door, got it open, then waved her hooves to dispel the fading vapors.

Okay, she thought. It doesn't pay to rush things. We're going to have to take this a step at a time, learn every inch of this stuff -- properly!

After a quick check for any other unexpected booby-traps hidden amongst the props, she shut the door again. And then she paused to admire her reflection in the mirror on the inside.

Truly, I am Great and Powerful now! she thought.

Reaching up to a shelf nearby, she pulled down the top-hat and put it on, patting it proudly.

And then frowned, shaking her head. She looked like a ginger-beer advertisement. Cute Little Filly, Wearing Daddy's Hat. Nope, that wouldn't do. Not in the least. Not for the Great and Powerful Trixie!

I'm a powerful sorceress, she thought. I need to look the part.

Well, there was only one thing to do about that... so there was yet another shopping trip to make...

"You're sure I can't interest you in a nice frock, miss?" the seamstress pony looked wistful. "I could do you a nice little print dress. You'd be beating the colts off with a stick..."

"Trixie is quite happy with the wizard hat and cape, thank you." Trixie eyed herself critically in the cloudy, cracked mirror. "Could you vary the color of the stars a little? Just so they stand out a bit."

"Let me see what I have for fabric. Won't be a moment..." She trotted into the back room.

Behind Trixie, the shop-bell dinged. An important-looking, matronly mare entered, accompanied by a younger, anxious-looking pony who had the look of a secretary or lady's maid. "And I'm distraught!" the mare was saying. "Simply at my wit's end, Knotted Kerchief!"

"Yes, ma'am," the younger mare agreed quickly, bobbing.

"Family heirlooms, gone! Just like that!" She waved a hoof, shaking her head. "What is the world coming to! When we are not safe in our homes!"

"Yes, ma'am. It's a terrible loss."

"Absolutely irreplaceable! Dear, dear, dear. Oh! I do beg your pardon, young lady," she said to Trixie, who had just turned to look at her. "I'm sure I had a fitting scheduled for today, but I might be just a trifle early."

"It's all right," Trixie smiled, then fixed her with a wise look. "You would be... Gingham Quilt, the mayor's wife, correct?"

"Why yes! And who do I have the pleasure..."

"Behold! I am the Great and Powerful Trixie!" Trixie waved a hoof grandly, then pointed the hoof at her. "And let's see, now... you've just lost a gilt brooch, a set of ruby earrings, and a gem-encrusted hoof-bracelet, am I right?"

"Oh, my word!" Gingham Quilt put a hoof to her heart, astonished. "Exactly right! However did you guess, my dear!"

Trixie shook her head. "Oh, the Great Trixie never guesses -- she knows!" Trixie eyed the mare carefully. "And if you'll take Trixie's advice, Trixie suggests you check in the box your husband stores his official robe in. You might be in for a shock!"

"You're sure, my dear?"

"Absolutely!" Trixie replied, with utter confidence. Where he was keeping your precious family heirlooms until he could collect the insurance money, and then hock them to pay off a big gambling debt... but I'm too young to understand such things, aren't I?

"Well!" the mare said eagerly. "I shall go check directly! And thank you so much, my dear! Will you be around town later? I should want to thank you properly!"

"Oh, the Great Trixie is just passing through... but she may return later, with her travelling show!"

"I shall look forward to seeing it, my dear! Come, Kerchief!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Gingham Quilt bustled quickly out through the door, her assistant scurrying close behind her. And Trixie giggled merrily.

The seamstress came back into the room, toting a few rolls of fabric. She looked around in puzzlement. "Did somepony come in just now, miss?" she asked.

"No one of any consequence," Trixie said, calmly examining a hoof. "Not when the Grrreat and All-Knowing Trixie is here..."

That evening, Trixie treated herself to a filling meal at a local inn, then retired to her wagon.

Or at least, to where her wagon had been. There was an empty space under the trees where she'd parked it.

"No," she whispered. "No, no, no... they can't do this... not to Trixie!"

She hunted around in increasing desperation, but apart from the wheel-tracks leading out to the hard-packed road, there was no sign of where it had gone.

At a loss, she sat down under one of the trees, her head on her forehooves, her thoughts whirling frantically...

"Has thou lost something, our student?"

Looking up, she saw Nightmare Moon grinning at her, sarcastically, around the trunk of the tree.

"Trixie has been robbed! They took Trixie's wagon! Trixie's home, her props, everything!"

The Nightmare snorted. "It is to be expected," she scolded. "The way thou has been flashing thy money around. Let this be a lesson to thee, our student, in appropriate discretion. Remember to sell thy skill as a performer... not thy value as a target for thieves and pickpockets!"

Trixie nodded sadly.

"Trixie understands. But what is Trixie to do now?"

The Nightmare grinned nastily.

"Why, what else? Take it back, of course..."

"All right! All right! I'm up! Quit bangin' on my door, will ya!"

Green Bean angrily yanked open the door of her clapboard shack, and glared out into the dim, moonlit clearing.

There was no one there.

Then she looked down, and saw the small, bedraggled filly standing on her doorstep.

"Yeah?" Green Bean snarled, running a hoof through her bird's nest of a mane. "What the hay do you want, kid?"

Trixie stared up at her, right in the eyes. Her voice was soft, calm, and chilling.

"I want my wagon."

Green Bean smirked innocently. "What wagon?"

"It's cursed, you see," Trixie smoothly went on. "The wagon. Cursed by an ancient, restless spirit... which haunts and then possesses whoever owns it. A spirit who knows all... sees all..."

"But... that ain't possible." Green Bean shook her head. "There's no such thing as ghosts."

Trixie shook her head sadly, with just the right amount of slackness to suggest that something other than her was doing the shaking...

"And this poor, benighted stage magician, she might have actually escaped the curse, had you only taken the wagon just a few hours earlier. But now it is too late for her... and for you... unless... I get my wagon back."

"Go on! Get outta here," Green Bean waved a hoof, nervously. "Go peddle your ghost stories some place else --"

"I know what you did..." Trixie interrupted, in the same cold, relentless, ethereal monotone. "Last week... to that poor, lost thespian, who'd just lost everything to a couple of swindlers!"

Green Bean's eyes snapped wide.

"Don't know what you're talking about..."

"All that trouble..." Trixie looked mournfully sympathetic. "All that anguish... and fear... and regret. And all you got out of it was a measly hoof-full of bits. Hardly seems worth it all now, does it?"

"You got nothing' on me!" Green Been blustered. "Why, I oughta--"

"Where's your shovel?" Trixie snapped. "The one you don't feel like touching anymore? And you haven't been to town for a while. What if the local guards get the idea to come here and check up on you? What if they should happen to dig up that heap of fresh dirt, way out in the woods, behind your little hovel?"

Green Been cowered, her teeth chattering.

"There's... there's just no way! No way at all! No one can possibly know... no one must ever know..."

"I know!" Trixie insisted. "I know all... I see all. And now you will never be free of me -- never!" Her voice dropped to a soft, crafty tone. "Unless... I get my wagon back..."

"But..."

"I want my wagon!" Trixie thundered, her eyes glaring, horribly and dementedly.

Green Bean landed heavily on her rump, near-paralyzed with fear.

"Fine!" she shouted abruptly, waving her hooves. "Take it! Take it and go away! Just... go away! Leave me be!" She covered her face with her hooves, trembling and gasping in terror.

"Not a word, now..." Trixie warned her, triumphantly. "Or I might just have to... return..."

"I won't breathe a word!" Green Bean yelled. "Just... take it! And get out of here, you... you... whatever you are! You crazy evil possessed madmare!" Jumping up, she slammed the shack door. There was a rumbling, scraping sound from inside, as if a bed was being shoved up against it.

Trixie carefully withdrew from the shack, step by step, moving in reverse, her eyes never blinking, never leaving the door... until she was safely out of sight amongst the bushes.

Then she heaved a sigh of relief, and beamed with pride.

Now that, Trixie, she recalled her father saying once, that is why your daddy commands top billing, and only two shows a day!

She circled around the shack and through the bushes, coming at last to her wagon. She checked it over quickly, finding everything in place, then hooked herself in the traces and struggled to get the thing unstuck from the brambles it was parked in. Finally she pulled it loose, and hauled it along behind her as she trudged up the forest road.

It was probably best, she decided, to move on to the next town, put as much distance between herself and this one as possible. Even though it meant a long, weary slog through the night, tugging the heavy wagon.

She half-hoped that the Nightmare would appear to her again, maybe join her on the long trot along the road. Trixie wanted to tell the Mare all about her adventure...

... and also find out what the Mare might have planned for her next...

Several days later, Trixie peered out through the stage curtain, at the tiny hamlet of Haybale. And at her audience, steadily gathering in what passed for a village square here, little more than a postage-stamp of grass near the town's single crossroads.

The crowd was huge. She hadn't thought there were that many ponies in the entire village, let alone so many who'd choose to spend an hour or two at a travelling magic show. There were parents with fillies and colts, of course, but there were also more than a few older ponies, who looked like they'd stopped by for lack of anything better to do that day.

Trixie gritted her teeth nervously, edging back into the shadows.

Come on, Trixie! she scolded herself. This is it! Your first show! The Great and Powerful Trixie has a crowd to entertain! Let's get a hoof on, young lady! Time's a-wasting!

She shivered as she moved to put on the star-spangled wizard's hat and cloak. She felt certain the audience would laugh at her, think she was just some filly playing dress-up, not a gifted, world-class performer.

She checked over the props she'd assembled, in the wings behind the curtain. She went over the opening spiel in her mind, reviewed the pitifully few tricks she had ready to present.

And then she huddled inside the cloak, her teeth chattering -- unable to move, unable to breathe, almost. She couldn't go out there. She just couldn't. There was no way she was up to this!

Is this it? she wondered. Stage fright? Is this what it feels like? Trixie can't have stage fright! Trixie is Great! And Powerful! And... and...

... really, really scared right now...

She felt dazed, panicky. Her thoughts whirled, reason flying to pieces. Any second now, she'd run over and hide under the bunk. And that would be it, her first show a wash-out. She'd be a failure, right from the word go....

"Something troubling thee, our student?"

Startled, Trixie looked around. And she saw, seated next to her, the tall, night-blue form of Princess Luna.

The Princess smiled, nodding encouragingly. "Thou has been so busy lately, preparing for this performance, readying thyself. We have missed being able to talk. But we know what a dedicated student thou are."

"Sorry," Trixie whispered. "Trixie is just..."

"A little nervous?" Luna nodded. "That is to be expected. It shows how much this means to thee. Thou are so concerned about getting it right. Have confidence, Trixie!"

"It's not just that... there are so many ponies out there!" Trixie moaned. "I've never performed for so many in my life!"

"Ah." Luna looked mildly guilty. "That may be our doing, we apologize. We took the liberty while thou were hard at work of spreading the word, so to speak. Whispering in ponies ears, whenever they felt idle or despondent. Suggesting what they needed was an afternoon's entertainment. And that the next time a wandering show happened by, they might find pleasure and comfort in attending it... particularly if it was a traveling magic show..." She looked briefly uncertain. "We... may have overdone it just a bit..."

"More than a bit!" Trixie shivered again. "It looks like the entire town is out there!"

"A command performance, then." Luna looked archly proud. "We have always been good at them!"

"But Trixie isn't!" Trixie shook her head. "Trixie can't go out there! Trixie can't do her show. Trixie is a failure!"

Luna eyed her, levelly. Trixie half-expected the Princess to scold her, to berate Trixie for her cowardice and lack of dedication to her work. Just like her parents and the teachers at school always did...

But Luna just tilted her head, a hint of an amused smile on her face.

"He felt the same way, you know."

Despite her fear, Trixie looked up curiously. "Who?"

Luna put out a hoof. "Come with us, small one. We will show thee."

Trixie reached out a hoof, touched Luna's...

... and with a disorienting blurred feeling, the two of them were standing backstage at what looked like a large theater. There were performers scurrying about, and stage-hands calling to one other as they moved props and changed backdrops. And in the center of the stage, in the midst of all the disorder and chaos, there was...

... a ferocious, scowling manticore...

... a tall black box with a star on it...

... and a beige-flanked, curly-haired unicorn with a lock-and-key cutie mark. He was sitting facing the curtains, looking scared out of his wits.

"Wait..." Trixie breathed. "Is that...?"

"Hoofdini," Luna confirmed. "About to perform the greatest feat of his stage career, the trick that finally made his name a household word..."

"... the Moonshot Manticore Mouthdive!" Trixie whispered, breathlessly, stars in her eyes. "But... what's he nervous about? He always did it so easily, in the movies they made about him!"

"There is always a first time," Luna reminded her. "Yet it was more than that. He was a consummate performer, just as thou are. It mattered to him that he made the audience happy, took away their cares for an hour or two. Times were hard back then, and it gave him real pleasure to lighten ponies' lives. And real pain, as well, whenever he worried he might not up to it. But he always was, every performance. He always gave them the show of their lives."

Luna gazed down at Trixie.

"And he always felt afraid, right before every show. Every time. Certain that this time he would not be able to go through with it. And as soon as he stepped on the stage, as soon as he began performing, he forgot all about it. The show carried him, and he carried the show. He had only to begin, and once begun, he never looked back."

"Wow," Trixie breathed, staring at her hero.

Then she looked up at Luna. "How do you know all this?"

"We have been around," Luna replied dryly. "But this one was special to us." She gazed quietly at the famous magician. "He believed in us. He was one of the few ponies who truly did. If anyone had found out, he might have been arrested for heresy... or perhaps merely treason, if he happened to be in a more forward-thinking community. He even prayed to us, for a time, at night. And we wish we could have been there for him, when he had bad dreams -- about poor shows, lost audiences, empty houses. To comfort and reassure him that he had nothing to worry about, that he was every inch the performer he wanted to be."

Luna gazed down at Trixie again.

"Much as we comfort thee now, our diligent student. You remind us of him, very much so. And we are finally able to help, once again. For that, we are truly grateful."

The theater faded away around them, becoming the interior of Trixie's wagon again. And Luna nodded to Trixie.

"Only begin," she advised. "And let the show carry you along. You will do fine, our diligent student."

Trixie drew herself up, took a steadying breath.

"Of course I will!" she said proudly. "I am the Great and Powerful Trixie!" Then she smiled sheepishly. "And I have the greatest and most wonderful of teachers backing me up!"

Luna merely nodded, proudly.

Then Trixie turned, and marched forwards through the curtain.

And gave the performance of her life. And never once looked back.

Weeks passed. Another town, another performance...

"Thank you! Thank you all! You've been a marvelous audience!"

The Hoofington ponies applauded readily as Trixie concluded her show. Then they got up and departed for their various shops and homes. And Trixie wearily wound shut the stage front of the wagon. Then she retired inside, to count the morning's take. It wasn't huge, but if stretched, it might last the week. But she was definitely improving. Word-of-mouth was becoming good enough that she might even consider raising ticket prices for the evening show.

And Trixie was loving the showpony life: travelling all over, a new locale every few days; giving performances in villages, small towns, hamlets, anywhere that had a crossroads and a likely populace of entertainment-hungry ponies; wowing the inhabitants with her talent and natural showponyship.

Yet it was exhausting. Every day, she gave performances, and in between she practiced hoof-magic until her fetlocks cramped. Every night, Nightmare Moon appeared in her dreams, and rigorously schooled her in illusion, deception, and simple sleight-of-hoof, drawing on her recollections of some of the greatest prestidigitators in history, until Trixie was fully at home with every prop and piece of equipment in her wagon. Not to mention a few additional items that she'd fashioned herself, once the Mare had taught her about them.

The Mare also schooled her on local gossip, so that Trixie never entered a town without knowing exactly what was going on, who she needed to impress, and what to say to every official she met. It was kind of an illicit thrill, looking around, knowing everypony's secrets: what they had to hide, how it could be turned against them. Keeping them constantly on the wrong hoof, in superstitious awe of her uncanny talents and away from the door of her wagon.

The Mare occasionally gave Trixie lessons in spellwork too, gradually improving Trixie's skill in levitation, pyromancy, and a few other simple techniques that would prove useful for her performances. Trixie was particularly fond of the firework spell she'd mastered: it could cause blasts of colored sparks, and even project images in the sky. She used the spell every chance she could during her act. She simply adored flinging her hooves wide, sending loud bangs and sparkling flashes flying everywhere.

But lessons in magic were few and far between. Nightmare Moon seemed diffident, even bored, as she observed and commented on Trixie's progress. And she had yet to teach Trixie any really powerful magic: curses, summonings, energy beams, and suchlike. She was reticent whenever Trixie timidly raised the subject, and would say only that Trixie was not yet ready.

"To wield a blade properly," she would say, "one's hoof must first be steady. Practice, Trixie... Practice!"

Though one night she did relent, and unexpectedly so...

It was a night when their conversation during the lesson had turned to the Nightmare's ability to visit the dreams of sleeping ponies. And Trixie had impulsively begged the Nightmare to teach her how to do dream-walking, too.

For a while, the Mare had eyed her coldly, as if offended. Then suddenly, a grin spread across her face.

"Thou are still not ready to attempt it thyself," she said sternly. "Yet if thou promises to do just as we tell thee... we shall show thee how it is done..."

Trixie readily promised. The Mare sniffed doubtfully, then directed Trixie to tuck herself up safely in her bunk. And then to relax, and allow the Mare to direct her thoughts.

"Allow us control, little one. We shall perform the spell, and bring thee with us."

Trixie willingly shut her eyes. She felt the cold touch of the Mare's will, settling into her mind. And suddenly, it seemed like she was the Mare -- as if the Mare was looking out, through her eyes.

"Now, small one, come with me..." Nightmare Moon said. And then somehow she turned a corner that Trixie had not even known was there, and took Trixie along with her...

There was a vast space, filled with cyan mist and stars... and a seemingly endless row of doors, which whipped past faster than Trixie could count them. Finally, one set of doors, tall and grand with inlaid silver scrollwork, was standing before her.

"Open them," the Mare had directed her.

Trixie did so, reaching up her hooves to work the handles. She stepped through, and found herself in a night-dark, echoing marble corridor, with plush carpeting and hung with elegant tapestries. Brilliant, silvery moonlight cascaded through the windows on the left side of the corridor, casting pools of gleam and shadow on the carpet.

Where are we? Trixie wondered, staring at it all.

Where else? Nightmare Moon replied smugly. Canterlot, in the Royal Palace itself. A little preview, as it were, for your eventual arrival here.

At the end of the corridor was another set of doors, tall and silver, engraved with images of crescent moons hanging in the sky over fields and forests.

Two gold-armored guards stood before the doors, one to either side. As Trixie approached, they eyed her suspiciously.

"Halt!" the left one demanded. "Who goes there? State your business!"

Allow us to speak, little one, the Mare told her. And then, with Trixie's voice, she said:

"Her Highness has requested that Princess Luna's quarters be inspected by a student of the legends concerning the Princess of the Night." Trixie felt herself being curtseyed, subserviently. "Summoned, we come. Oh, and before thee asks, Melvin the Manticore sends his regards."

The guards eyed each other.

"It checks out," the senior one said. "The passphrase and everything. The Chief Steward did mention it." He looked skeptically at Trixie. "Seriously? At this hour?"

"Well," the Nightmare replied, "the Princess did request discretion, did she not?"

Still looking uneasy, the guards relented. They turned and quietly opened the doors, ushered Trixie inside, then shut the doors behind her.

The Chief Steward, poor thing... Nightmare Moon muttered amusedly in Trixie's thoughts. He has so many tasks on his mind lately... he will not even recall giving the order in the morning...

Trixie wasn't listening -- she was staring around the room in awe.

It was a regal suite, decorated with opulent tapestries and candelabra. There was a carriage-sized bed, with a canopy shaped like a crescent moon. The ceiling was covered with a map of the night sky. It was pristinely luxurious. Yet there was an empty, unoccupied feel to it as well: as of a room carefully maintained just as it had been, year on year, in hopes that its occupant might one day return.

This must be Princess Luna's room, Trixie thought to herself.

And heard the Nightmare cackling in her mind.

Ah, yes! she laughed. Dear Celestia! She misses Luna so, for Luna has been away so long! Celestia wants everything to be just right, in hopes that Luna will one day return, and just move right back in. Even in her dreams, Celestia has Luna's room made ready to welcome her -- over and over...

"Wait --" Trixie looked around again. "This is a dream? But it feels so real!"

Nightmare Moon snickered. According to some theories, consciousness itself is but a variety of lucid dream. And alicorn dreams, being so powerful, rather muddy the philosophical waters. But in this case... The Mare sounded disgusted. Celestia has always been rather... literal in her thinking, even in the dream realm. She dreams about what is, not what might be. But that simply makes this all the easier for us. Come, Trixie. We must act quickly, before she knows we are here.

The Nightmare brought Trixie out onto the suite's broad balcony, with its magnificent view of the city spread out far below -- unnervingly far below. The drop beyond the balcony made Trixie gasp, and she came to a frightened halt at the railing itself.

Worry not, the Nightmare told her. We shall show thee another spell now: self-levitation...

Trixie felt her horn light up. She felt herself lifted up by the spell, and carried across a dizzying drop to a nearby balcony, where she was set lightly back on her hooves again.

Trotting forward into the room just to get away from the vertiginous drop outside, Trixie found herself in another royal suite, this one decorated in sun motifs.

And on the bed nearby there was a large, winged, ivory-white pony, huddled under the light covers, tossing fitfully in her sleep.

Princess Celestia? Trixie was stunned. She'd hoped to one day see the Princess, perhaps up on a distant balcony from the other side of a large crowd. And here the royal alicorn was, barely a dozen steps away.

Indeed, Nightmare Moon snarled viciously. The usurper! She banished us, Trixie! Sent us away, and hoped it would be forever. But we shall have revenge, my student. We shall show her she cannot stand against the Night!

Trixie shivered at the venom in the Nightmare's thoughts. But... if you could sneak me in here so easily, Trixie asked, why haven't you taken revenge already? You know, send somepony in here with a poison dagger or something?

There was silence in Trixie's mind for a moment. Then Nightmare Moon cackled.

Pardon us, small one. We were forgetting the refreshingly honest savagery of the young filly mind. No, my student, that will not do. Celestia can defend herself easily against such simple usurpations, or she would not have ruled this land unopposed for close to a millennia. No, it would take something a bit more... subtle than that. And we have some ideas along those lines. But let us leave that aside for the moment. Celestia appears to be having a bit of a restless night. Go to her, Trixie! Whisper comfortingly in her ear. Tell her this...

Trixie listened carefully. Then she nervously tip-hoofed over to the side of the bed. She leaned close, and carefully whispered in the Princess's ear. The effect was immediate, and surprising. The Princess visibly relaxed, settling herself comfortably under the covers, smiling contentedly.

And then she suddenly began to snore. Loudly, in a most unregal way -- like a clogged bathtub drain.

Trixie heard the Nightmare chuckle. Well, she seems more comfortable now. Let us not disturb her further, Trixie. Thou will see her again, soon enough.

Trixie was puzzled. She wasn't certain why a vague, fortune-teller-like prophecy about meeting some pony on a road would be so comforting to Princess Celestia. But maybe that was what Nightmare Moon meant, about me meeting Celestia soon? Maybe Celestia will meet Trixie herself on the road? And invite her to come to her School?

Trixie also wondered about what had happened to Princess Luna. Did Celestia banish her too? Then why did she want her back? Why did she keep the Princess's rooms so carefully preserved and tidy?

It all seemed mysterious to her. Still, she assumed that her teachers -- one or the other of them -- would eventually see fit to explain it to her, so she didn't press the subject. She allowed Nightmare Moon to work the dream-walking spell once more, carrying her back through the cold, starlit void, and bringing her home to her bunk in the wagon.

And then the Nightmare abruptly and unexpectedly ended the night's lesson. She commanded Trixie to go to sleep, and swiftly departed, cackling madly to herself.

For days after, Trixie begged to be taken to other places via the dream-realm. But Nightmare Moon tersely reminded her that she was "not yet ready", and directed her back to her studies. And she seemed even more reluctant now to move Trixie on to more advanced lessons in dark magic.

But Trixie didn't fret about the slow pace of her magic lessons. She had more than enough work already with learning and perfecting the hoof-magic tricks that she needed for her stage show. And too, she was on her way to Canterlot, to study at Celestia's School.

There'd be plenty of time to learn real magic then.

Along with perfecting her stage skills, and earning the spare bits she'd need to live on in the expensive royal city, she needed lessons in deportment: the manners and cultured grace required to navigate the upper echelons of Canterlot society.

Princess Luna saw to that, during the day, whenever Trixie's attention flagged or her thoughts wandered. A quick lesson on proper address here, a swift tutoring on the hierarchy of the government and the Palace there, small hints and nudges in everything Trixie said or did, constantly shaping Trixie into a proper young filly, cultured and refined.

It was wonderful, and Trixie was grateful for the attention lavished on her by her teachers. Yet there was a downside as well. The constant, unstinting pressure, the endless rounds of lessons, every minute of the night and day, left her feeling well and truly bushwhacked. She felt constantly on the go, never a moment's rest. Day blurred into night, so that she wasn't entirely sure when she was awake or asleep.

She found herself longing for the bliss of simple, dreamless sleep at night, or an idle moment to herself during the day.

That will come, Trixie sternly reminded herself. For right now, it's nose to the grindstone, young lady! The show must go on!

She sighed, relieved that this morning's show was over at least. The Hoofington ponies were a demanding bunch, though they were also unstinting with their applause at the end, which pleased Trixie immensely. She'd accommodated them with several encore tricks, buoyed along by their enthusiasm. But that had meant an overlong show and now she was even further behind schedule for the rest of the day.

Locking her bit-bag in the safe hidden beneath the floorboards, Trixie flopped back on the bed and shut her eyes, hoping to catch at least a few quick winks before she needed to start preparing for the evening's performance.

She'd almost dropped off when a familiar voice whispered to her:

"Trixie... where are you, our diligent student?"

It was Princess Luna. Trixie groaned, dreading yet another lesson in properly holding a teacup, passing a plate of scones, or smiling blandly in the face of a noble's ridiculous joke. She nevertheless hauled herself up, straightened her hat and cloak, and moved to the door.

"Trixie is here, Your Highness," she said dutifully. "What is Trixie to learn today?"

"No lessons today," Princess Luna's ghostly voice replied. "Thou has been working hard, our diligent student, and doing very well. Thou deserves a little reward..."

"Oh?" Trixie paused, hoof on the door-handle. "What kind of reward?"

"Come visit us," Luna called mysteriously, "and find out!"

Puzzled, Trixie pulled open the door...

... and found herself stepping down from a golden carriage, onto a soft crimson carpet, on a warm and sunny afternoon. The carpet led up a grand stairway, to the main entrance of the Royal Palace in Canterlot. And all around her, hoofponies and guards stood waiting, their heads bowed respectfully.

Surprised, Trixie looked behind her, seeing no sign of her wagon, just the carriage. She noticed as well that her hat and robe had gone up several notches in both quality and grandeur. They were now made of fine, shimmering satin, with elegantly hoof-stitched stars, and were as breathtaking to look at as they were comfortable to wear.

A liveried hoofman bowed genteelly to her. "My Lady! An honor to welcome you back again!"

"The pleasure is all ours," Trixie replied automatically. "We are expected?"

"But of course, Your Ladyship! This way, if you please."

"So kind. Do lead on!"

Trixie was surprised at herself. She'd been practicing her courtly manners, but she was still far from able to carry herself with such refined poise and assurance. It must be Luna's doing, Trixie thought. She's conjuring this, like a pleasant dream, allowing me to experience what it's like, living here in high society, without any effort at all...

It was nice.

I could get used to this! she thought.

She allowed herself to be conducted up the stairs and into the Palace, then along echoing marble corridors hung with elegant tapestries. She was passed from guide to guide with the smooth and practiced ease of long familiarity.

She was brought finally to the set of tall silver doors, engraved with images of crescent moons hanging in the sky over fields and forests. A pair of dragon-winged, lantern-eyed guard ponies stood to either side of the doors, and they snapped to attention at her approach.

Trixie nodded to the guards with calm superiority. "Announce us, please!" she commanded, though with a gracious smile. "One does like to hear one's name announced, even though it might be redundant."

The guards compliantly swept open the doors, and in unison called out: "Her Esteemed Ladyship, the Great and Powerful Trixie!"

Trixie stepped into the familiar royal suite, gazing around at the opulent tapestries and candelabra, the carriage-sized bed with its canopy shaped like a crescent moon, the ceiling covered with a map of the night sky. As before, it all took her breath away. Yet she recalled her lessons, and stood where she was, maintaining a cool, aloof demeanor until she was summoned further.

Across the room, Princess Luna sat at a table on the balcony. The table was set for midday tea, and the Princess gestured welcomingly with a hoof.

"Lady Trixie! So good of thee to come! Pray come sit with us, and be at ease!"

Trixie nodded dismissively to the guards, then trotted over to the table, seating herself primly and proudly next to Luna. The guards bowed, and pulled the doors shut.

Luna and Trixie eyed each other, coldly, archly, austerely...

... and then Luna's mouth quirked, giving just a hint of a smile.

Despite herself, Trixie smiled too. And in moments, their decorum had shattered, both of them laughing uncontrollably.

"We noticed that thou were weary," Luna said, when they both could speak calmly again, "So we thought a quiet break was in order. A pleasant hour or two with no lessons, no shows to give. Just tea, and agreeable company."

Trixie nodded. "The road has been rather long and hard. But we do not complain. We adore the showpony life! We would not trade it for the world!"

"We are glad for thee, our student," Luna said. "And we are proud as well. Very proud, Trixie! Thou art a fine young mare." Luna reached out, gently placing a hoof on Trixie's shoulder. "We could not wish for better in our student... our trusted confidant, and dearest of friends!"

Trixie stared up at her teacher... her kind, caring teacher. The Princess wanted nothing more than to see Trixie be the best at her innate talent. To be respected and adored for who she was, for what she could do...

Trixie's eyes suddenly welled up with tears.

"What is it, our student?" Luna asked, concerned. And that concern -- instant, focused, and unstinting -- only made the tears flow harder.

"Everypony else," Trixie whispered, "makes me feel like I've done something wrong, like I am wrong somehow, just by being here. But you make me feel... right, somehow... like I'm welcome. Like... like I belong here..." Trixie shut her eyes, felt tears running down her face.

"... like I'm not alone..."

"Thou are never alone, Trixie," Luna assured her. "Not ever. I am here for thee, whenever thou has need of me." Luna gazed out, over the balcony, at the spires of the palace around them, and the grand city beyond. "And in my dominion, Trixie, thou shall have a place of trust, of authority. Thou shall belong. Thou shall be welcome. None shall ever question thee, none shall ever doubt thee. In my dominion, Trixie, all shall be as I wish it -- as I command it! But first... first I must return to my dominion. First, I must be restored to my throne. I must be free once again..."

Luna looked down at Trixie again, her proud smile fading away -- to be replaced by quiet sorrow.

"My student, I must ask a great favor of thee."

"Absolutely! What?"

Luna abruptly waved a hoof. In a flash, the Palace, the sunlit balcony, the tea-setting, all of it vanished. In its place there was only darkness... a cold, mist-like, wraith-like darkness, filled with a sense of looming, impending doom.

Luna was there, lying forlornly in the midst of it all. Pained, helpless, and utterly alone... save for Trixie.

"I am imprisoned," Luna said abjectly. "Lost, so far away from home. I dearly wish to return, but I cannot do so... not on my own. I need your help, my diligent student. I need you to find me... to rescue me."

Trixie stared at her, astonished. "Of course, Princess! I'll do anything to help! Anything at all!"

Luna nodded thankfully. "You are kind, my student. So kind, so diligent, so dedicated. I am glad to have found somepony like you."

She sighed. And weakly waved a hoof again.

In a trice, the grand Palace, the sunlit balcony, the tea-setting, had all reappeared. And Luna was her proud, smiling self again.

"There is much to be done yet, Trixie," she said. "A long road ahead for both of us. But you will get there. And so will I. We both will, my diligent student."

She smiled down at Trixie.

"And then, then we shall be together, Trixie... forever and ever. You and I shall never be alone again..."

Astonished, Trixie reached up. She want to hug her kind and caring teacher, wanted to never let go of her, not ever...

A loud thumping sounded at the door, shaking the wagon.

Trixie snapped awake, abruptly and hard. Wiping her eyes crossly, she hauled herself up, stumbled over to the door, and yanked it open.

"Yes?"

An officious-looking stallion in a gray vest stood at her door, carrying a clipboard in his hoof, with a pair of town guards standing behind him.

"You are the showpony named Trixie?" he said, in that particular laconic, indifferent tone that presaged a world of officious and expensive bureaucracy.

The tatters of the dream still falling to shreds around her, Trixie drew herself up haughtily. "We prefer our full title: we are the Great and Powerful Trixie!"

"Uh, huh," he replied, unimpressed. "Well, Great and Powerful Trixie, do you have a purveyor's license for this little travelling show of yours? And have you formally registered as a busker with the town registrar? I assume you've also paid the traditional groundskeeping deposit for parking your wagon here? And the amusements and games tax?" He pretended surprise. "No? Well, I'm afraid that's going to go hard with you, young lady, very hard indeed. See, we like to do things properly here in Hoofington. Helps keep everypony on the up and up, eh?"

Trixie eyes glared. In her mind something snapped shut, cold and hard, like a bear trap. Caution was thrown to the winds.

"How dare you!" she snarled.

"Excuse me?" the stallion replied.

"How dare you disturb the Great and Powerful Trixie with such... plebean foolishness!" Trixie crossed her forehooves, her snout high and aloof. "You pathetic, over-entitled, money-grubbing little peasant!"

"Oh, really?" The stallion looked like he was going to enjoy this. "Well let me tell you --"

Trixie didn't let him finish. "You see those guards over there?" She pointed across the square to where two gold-armored Guard ponies happened to be passing by. "Suppose Trixie were to summon them over, and suggest to them that they might be interested in what happened to Hoofington's contribution to the roads and bridges fund this year?"

"Er... what?"

"Or," Trixie went on, acidly, "about that cousin of yours who has held the office of assessor three years running... despite never once winning the vote?"

"How did you --"

"Or!" Trixie whispered dangerously, "why a certain young mare left town so suddenly and unexpectedly -- with no explanation... and no forwarding address?"

The stallion stared at Trixie's sharp, unrelenting glare. He looked suddenly anxious and sweaty. "You have no proof..." he whispered desperately.

Trixie sneered, and matched him, whisper for whisper. "Oh, the Great and Powerful Trixie does not need proof! All she has to do is flick a hoof --" She motioned with a forehoof, "-- and the dominoes start falling, one after the other. Just one... little... flick..."

Despite himself, the stallion flinched. "Ermm... uh..."

Trixie smiled at him, darkly and supremely confident. "Now, get thee from our sight," she hissed dangerously. "And do not trouble us again!" She smiled sweetly. "That is, if thou values thy comfortable -- and potentially oh-so-short -- life..."

The official cleared his throat nervously.

"Erm. Yes. Well, all seems to be in order here. Come along, officers!"

He departed with unseemly haste, and the guards followed him in some confusion, apparently surprised they were not arresting anypony.

And Trixie snarled under her breath -- viciously, unrepentantly.

Princess Luna was lost, imprisoned. She needed Trixie's help. And nopony -- nopony -- was going to stand in Trixie's way!

Then Trixie shut her eyes, and sighed unhappily.

I never even had a chance to find out what flavor the tea was...

The day dawned bright and warm in Canterlot. And fillies and colts, together with their parents, waited in line to be admitted to Celestia's School for their entrance examinations.

"Now don't you worry, cupcake!" Sunflower said. The orange, cornflower-maned mare hugged the nervous slate-green filly beside her. "That nice pony filling in the forms over there already has us on his list. So you just line up with the other children, and we'll wait until they start calling us in."

"You think I have a chance, mama?" the filly asked, shivering.

Sunflower nuzzled her comfortingly. "Every chance in the world, honey! Now just do your best, and remember, no matter what happens today -- no matter what -- we are proud, very proud of you my darling, for getting this far!"

"Okay, mama!" The filly beamed, and trotted happily forward to join the line.

"Uhm.. excuse me, ma'am?"

Sunflower turned, and found herself facing a nervous, white-maned blue filly, wearing a carryall with a magic wand emblazoned on the pockets.

"Is this where ponies line up for the entrance examinations?"

"It surely is, honey!" Sunflower smiled encouragingly. "And oh my, you look like such a sharp young thing, you're sure to do well. What's your name, deary?"

"Trixie," the filly replied meekly.

"Oh, what a pretty name! And how appropriate! I'm Sunflower, by the way." She grinned warmly. "And I'll just bet you were an early admission too, just like my little cupcake! Am I right?"

"Um... no, actually." Trixie grimaced. "I was hoping to try for one of the open admission slots... assuming there are any left."

"Oh, how forthright of you, my dear! Now I don't understand all the details myself, but I'm sure if you trot on over and talk to that nice pony at the table, he should be able to get you all sorted out."

"Oh. Thank you, ma'am!"

"You're most welcome, my dear. Best of luck, now!"

Trixie headed over to the table, and found herself facing a harried-looking gray unicorn, wearing a red uniform vest and a baked-in look of weary indifference.

"I wish to sign in," Trixie declared primly. "For the open exams today."

"Name?" he snapped disinterestedly, drawing over a fresh sheet of parchment. His quill darted around over it like a bloodthirsty fly, filling in lines, ticking boxes.

"Trixie."

"Trixie..." he echoed coldly, still bent over the parchment, quill scribbling. Then he eyed her, the quill poised over a blank line on the form. "Trixie what?"

Apparently he was expecting something more, a last name. Trixie thought fast. She had two teachers, so she could just pick one... but which one to choose... which one...

And then she smirked. Why choose? This was Canterlot, after all.

"Luna Moon," she said loftily. "Trixie Luna Moon!"

"Trixie... Lulamoon," the pony muttered inattentively, quill scratching away.

"Uh no! Wait..." Trixie said, annoyed.

"Yes?" The pony glared up at her sourly. "What?"

"Oh. Never mind." Trixie mentally shrugged. What difference did it make, anyway? It was just a name on a form.

"Address?"

Trixie gave the current location of her wagon.

The official went on, taking down some other identifying particulars. And then...

"Parent or guardian?" he snapped.

"Oh, my mother's with me," Trixie said, waving a hoof vaguely in Sunflower's direction. "Sunflower. Same address."

"I need a release signature," the pony said. His quill pointed to a line near the bottom of the form.

Trixie froze, chilled. Oh haybales! she thought frantically. What do I do? What do I do?

"Just... one moment," she said brightly. "I'll be right back."

She turned and trotted casually back toward Sunflower, anxiously turning over ideas in her head.

Then one came to her.

"Why hello, dear!" Sunflower greeted her. "All signed up?"

"Um, not quite," Trixie replied, looking embarrassed. "They need some kind of witness signature on the form, just to make it official. I don't have anypony with me today so... would you mind...?"

"Oh, not a bit, dear. Glad to help!" Sunflower willingly trotted back with her to the table.

"You'll be accompanying her during the exam?" the official demanded grumpily.

"Oh! Well, certainly, I'd be glad to!"

The official harrumphed, then read out an apparently memorized litany of potential hazards of the test, up to and including physical injury, thaumic dissociation, and simple, unvarnished death.

And Sunflower willingly signed her name, not even looking at the form. "She's such a bright young thing, isn't she?" she said to the official. "She'll make an excellent student!"

The official scowled in annoyance, then pointed with a hoof. "Wait over there, until you're called." Then he tossed the filled-in parchment onto a stack to his left, and turned to the next applicant.

"Well now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Sunflower said brightly, as they trotted back to the line.

Trixie nodded distractedly, stumbling along on legs like jelly, her heart pounding. "Thanks so much, ma'am," she whispered. "You can't know how much this means to me!"

"Oh, it's no trouble, dear. You remind me so much of my own little cupcake, after all. So excited and nervous! But I know you'll do just fine."

Trixie stared up at her, astonished... at the warmly smiling, comforting face gazing down at her. For a brief moment, she had a strong, dreamlike recollection. Of a Hearth's Warming Eve, long ago, and another smiling face.

Yes, Showcase had said to her. The ornaments on the tree are a lot like fireworks. You're such a perceptive little filly, Patricia! And then her father had called her attention back to the rabbit-in-the-hat trick he was working to amuse her...

It had felt nice, back then... having somepony she could count on to look after her.

Trixie turned to look ahead, at the long line of fillies and colts waiting to go in. "I wish..." she said quietly, thinking of Princess Luna, "I wish she could have been here with me. I wish I didn't have to do this all on my own."

"Oh, my dear!" Sunflower said, putting a consoling hoof on her withers. "You're not alone! You're never alone! Not ever! Don't even think that! Now, we'll stay and watch you take your exam, all right? Give you a little extra encouragement, eh? And don't you fret, Trixie! Just do your best. That's all anypony could ask of you, right?"

"Uh huh," Trixie said, numbly.

"And don't doubt yourself, dear, not for a moment! After all, this is your big chance to shine now, isn't it?"

Trixie nodded, distractedly. "I suppose so."

"Absolutely! So just remember, my dear..."

Trixie looked up at her. Sunflower gave her a gentle squeeze and a reassuring smile.

"Never any fear, Trixie... and never any doubt!"

Then Sunflower's gaze swing to the doors of the examination hall. "Oops! Looks like they're ready for us. Here we go!" She trotted ahead, to be with her own little filly.

Trixie stared after her, with a wistful look on her face.

Then she squared her shoulders and trotted along after them.

And fought to hold back the tears.

"Trixie... Lulamoon." The head examiner intoned the name, flatly and dispassionately, like a bailiff summoning a prisoner to the witness stand.

His associates readied their clipboards and quills, looking on with bored indifference.

Trixie took a quick bow.

"Thank you all! And prepare yourselves, for a spectacle the likes of which you have never seen!"

"Ahem, yes..." The examiner glanced at his clipboard. "Levitation, please, Miss Lulamoon."

That was easy. Trixie grabbed a book from a nearby table with her magic, and caused it to hover -- a trifle unsteadily -- before her.

"Alteration, please."

Trixie pointed a hoof at a candle on the table, and used a simple incendiary spell to light it.

"Conjuration."

Trixie thought quickly, then attempted a quick weather-spell. To her relief it worked, producing a diffident cloud that crackled and fizzed fitfully for a moment, sprinkling a few drops of water on the floor.

The examination went on, and the requests became harder and harder to fulfill with her limited repertoire of spells. And Trixie could tell that her pitiful, wimpy spellwork wasn't endearing her in the eyes of the examiners. They fidgeted, glanced around, cleared their throats. She was losing them, losing her audience. And Trixie couldn't have that.

Just then, they asked her for something that she knew she could not do.

"Transfiguration, please. Turn the candle to stone."

Trixie froze.

The examiner raised his eyebrows. "Well, Miss Lulamoon?"

Trixie stared at him, swallowing uncomfortably. And then, throwing caution to the winds, she shrugged in a bored fashion.

"Oh, pshaw! Trixie does not trifle with such... plebeian prestidigitation!"

"Really." The examiner's tone was flat, cold, and dismissive. He moved to write something on his clipboard --

"Not when she is capable of feats such as this!"

She brushed back her mane, then waved her forehooves in mystic passes. And then, almost too fast to follow, her hooves held up an apple... and the candle had disappeared.

"But Trixie is not yet finished!" Turning to her carryall, Trixie rummaged inside... and then pulled out the candle, its wick still alight.

The examiners sat up at that, watching intently.

"Go on, Miss Lulamoon," the lead examiner prompted.

Trixie had only intended to do just the one trick, just to distract them from her failure at real magic. But here she was, presented with a willing audience, who clearly wanted something more -- something truly astounding.

Trixie had never been able to resist that.

"Watch in awe!" she intoned grandly, "as the Grrreat and Powerful Trrrixie demonstrates powers and skills the likes of which you have never seen! Behold!"

And she dove into her usual performance. She demonstrated all manner of types of magic: conjuring, pyromancy, teleportation, transfiguration, plus a few tricks requiring props from her carryall. And all of it stage magic, a complete fraud, offered with confident aplomb and depth of skill, allowing the examiners not a second's pause, not a moment's opportunity to ask for something Trixie could not do, not an instant to realize that they were being hoodwinked, thoroughly and completely.

Trixie found herself actually pitying the examiners. The poor things, stuck in this auditorium for hours on end, watching pitiful candidate after pitiful candidate attempting to impress them with clumsy, fitful spellwork. When what they were really after was smooth, polished, powerful showponyship, the likes of which only the Great and Powerful Trixie could provide!

And Trixie could tell she had them hooked. They were impressed, even though they tried to hide it. She'd always been good at reading a crowd. But more than that, she sensed they were... strangely relieved, somehow. As if they'd been looking for something like this all day. And in Trixie, they had finally found it.

Trixie wrapped up her performance smartly, and took a deep bow. "Thank you!" she called out grandly. "Thank you all, for your time and attention! Now, if you will excuse Trixie, she has many other pressing engagements to attend to, many, on this fine day!"

And with that, leaving the examiners not a chance to ask questions, Trixie turned, swept up her carryall, and marched straight out of the examination hall, tall and proud and radiating absolute confidence.

She didn't look back, not even once. She didn't have to... she knew she'd won them over.

Later that day, when a messenger tapped on the door of her wagon, and presented a gilt-edged scroll, which proudly told Miss Trixie Lulamoon that she was welcomed wholeheartedly as a student of Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, Trixie merely nodded in satisfaction. It was only her just due, after all.

Really... if the School was going to staff its entrance panel with judges so unfit as to be unable to distinguish stage-work from thaumic magic... why should the Great and Powerful Trixie trouble herself to show them the error of their ways?

Trixie decided, then and there, that she would not care in the slightest. Trixie had an evening performance to prepare for, after all.

And she definitely didn't have time for regrets...

That night, long after midnight, Trixie finally managed to drop off to sleep, tucked up in the bunk in her wagon.

"Trixie..." a voice called, slinking through her dreams, like cold mist through a deep underground chasm.

For once, Trixie didn't mind the interruption of her slumbers. Opening her eyes, she looked about eagerly, seeking the source of the voice. She found herself in a dark, echoing throne room, with cold marble walls hung with night-dark tapestries...

... it was her throne room... Nightmare Moon's.

Around Trixie stood a phalanx of lantern-eyed, dragon-winged nightmares. As one, the guards came to attention, bowing their heads respectfully to Trixie.

Trixie carefully trotted forward through them, approaching the throne herself, and then dropping a carefully measured curtsey. Her teacher liked a show of fealty, but despised servile flattery. It was a very thin line, but Trixie nailed it perfectly.

Nightmare Moon leant forwards out of the shadows, grinning down at her. "Welcome, our diligent student! How fared thee at the examination?"

Trixie sniffed. "It wasn't even a contest, Your Highness."

"Really? The examiners presented no difficulties?"

"Not a hope! The Grrreat and Powerful Trrrixie floored them with the skill and brilliance of her presentation. They wanted a show, and Trixie gave them one. And they bought it, without hesitation."

"Indeed?" Nightmare Moon eyed her closely. "And thou, Trixie? Thou has no qualms about that?"

Trixie rolled her eyes in disgust.

"They're undeserving of Trixie... a means to an end, nothing more."

"Capital! So, thou has been accepted?" Nightmare Moon grinned, in a way that suggested she already knew the answer.

Trixie nodded. "Trixie received her scroll just this afternoon. Hoof-delivered, by special messenger! They must have been in a hurry -- didn't want to miss their chance."

"Our congratulations. Though really, we expected no less from thee." Nightmare Moon nodded. "Now thou are ready... ready for the next, most important part of our plans..."

"Oooh! What is it?" Trixie settled herself attentively on the cushion that had been provided by one of the nightmares.

"It concerns a fellow student, who has only recently begun studies at the School herself: Celestia's own personal protégé..."

An image formed in the air between them: a lavender pony, with a blue, red-striped mane. And her snout buried in a book.

"Twilight Sparkle," the Nightmare snarled, her tone cold and sharp, like a sword being unsheathed...

Trixie came awake, in the pale light of early morning.

She was shivering, though not from cold. Even as the dream slipped away from her, fading from her awareness as it always did, she recalled fragments of the viciously triumphant voice of her teacher, spelling out the terms of her retribution...

... and Trixie's part in it.

"Thou will position thyself close to Twilight Sparkle," Nightmare Moon had said, "and await my command. For safety's sake, you will not remember why, only that it is essential -- very essential -- that you be part of her inner circle of companions at the School..."

The Nightmare had glared, ragingly, at the image of the studious, distracted pony.

"So like Celestia," she'd said. "So perfect, so flawless, so quick with an answer, so swift to win the confidence of all who speak with her. No wonder she was selected to be Celestia's protégé. Celestia likely sees herself in that bookish little brat. Celestia never could resist primping and preening in front of a mirror, keeping up her image, her oh-so-perfect image, as the kind and benevolent ruler of all Equestria..."

Nightmare Moon's armored hoof had struck the marble floor, fracturing and splintering it with a thunderous crash.

"A role she usurped from me! Me! The true mind and power behind the throne! Without me, Celestia would be nothing, a figurehead! And I shall take back what is rightfully mine! There shall be one ruler in Equestria... and that ruler shall be me!"

She'd gazed down at Trixie, grinning, yet without a trace of mirth... or remorse.

"And you, my student, shall be the instrument of my retribution... my revenge. Against dear Celestia, and her chosen successor... Twilight Sparkle..."

Her loud, braying, laugh had echoed through the throne room.

"When I give the command, Trixie, thou shall act! Thou shall strike! And thus seal their fate... their doom... forever!"

The triumphant echoes of her laughter mounted to a thunderous cacophany. And then, gradually faded, slipping away into nothingness, as the memory of the dream itself slipped from Trixie's grasp.

Trixie shook herself. She got up, lit the stove, put a kettle on for tea. She brushed her mane, inspected her wizard's hat and cloak for dust or lint. She went through her props, deciding on a lineup of tricks for the morning's matinee performance. And tried not to think about the dream. No, the nightmare...

She tried to let it settle back into her mind, fading away, as it always did. But for once, she didn't feel comfortable with that, didn't want to let go. She didn't want to forget what she had been instructed to do.

Because then she would still have to go through with it.

She covered her face with her hooves.

"Princess Luna?" she whispered, helplessly. And thought she heard the Princess's calm reply, though she wasn't certain whether it wasn't just her own thoughts, anymore:

"What ails thee, our student?"

"What would you do if... well, if there was something you had to do. Like, to help somepony you really, really cared about... ?" She gritted her teeth. Then she rushed into it, before she lost her nerve. "And it wasn't something you thought you could live with? Because it meant destroying a whole bunch of other ponies' lives, irreversibly?"

There was a long, considered silence.

"I would live with it," the Princess replied, calmly and directly. "So that others would not have to."

"But --"

"Trixie, thou are a strong, capable pony. Trust in thyself. Thou will do the right thing, when the time comes."

"But, Princess... I'm all alone!"

"Trixie, we have told thee before: thou are never alone. We will always be here for thee. And there is nothing that cannot be accomplished, so long as we do it together. Trust in us, Trixie. Please... trust us!"

"I do trust you, Your Highness," Trixie whispered desperately. "Always."

"And if we tell thee to do something, Trixie," the Princess reminded her. "Do it, without question. Because it will mean everything in the world..."

"I will, Your Highness! I swear!"

"And remember, Trixie... always remember..."

"Yes?"

"Never any fear... and never any doubt."

Trixie relaxed, nodding. "Yes, Your Highness." She smiled, her mind made up. "I'm so glad I have you to help me!"

"And we are glad of thee, our diligent student... more than thee can know...

The back shelves of the library at Celestia's School were dark and dusty. Few ponies ever came back here.

Except for Twilight, of course -- the lavender unicorn came here practically every day, chasing down a reference. She rummaged amongst the scrolls in a bin at the far end of a shelf, tongue between her teeth, her horn gently singing to provide a soft gleam of light to see by.

"Hellooo, Twilight..."

Twilight looked up in surprise, and saw, standing in the shadows at the far end of the shelf, a light blue filly with a white mane... and a proudly triumphant grin on her face.

"Oh, hi!" Twilight replied. "Sorry, you are...?"

"Trrrixie Lulamoon!" the pony said, in a tone that suggested it was the answer to any and all questions of importance. "I'm new here, and having just a tiny bit of trouble finding my way around. Could you tell me, where might I find a good book on transfiguration? I've been finding it so difficult to wrap my brain around how it works..."

"Oh, no kidding! You'll want Clover the Clever's survey on projection along thaumic dimensions. It's kinda wordy, but it'll give you a real grasp of the whole subject. Come on, I'll show you where it is."

"Oh, would you?" Trixie smiled. "That would be so kind of you, Twilight. So very kind, indeed..."

With Twilight leading the way, the two of them disappeared further into the darkness of the back shelves, the light from Twilight's horn fading into the shadows.

She's just like everypony says, Trixie thought to herself. So bookish, so knowledgeable. So innocent and perfect. The pony with all the answers... always the head of the class.

That kind of perfection just burned Trixie up. Why, she couldn't quite put her hoof on -- it just did.

Well, that wouldn't last long...

Not now that the Great and Powerful Trixie Luna Moon was here...