Thirty Minute Pony Stories

My name was once on the tip of every pony’s tongue. From the cloudscrapers of Los Pegasus to the docks of Manehatten and every hamlet and hovel in between, ponies young and old would marvel over my latest feat of incredible heroism and magical prowess.

It was I who defended Vanhoover from the Orca Lord and his declaration of war against the land dwellers, defeating their champion in single combat and negotiating peace between the Vanhooverites and their aquatic neighbours.

It was I who solved the mysterious disappearances in Fillydelphia, tracking down the missing fillies and colts who had been foalnapped by a cult intent on brainwashing them into disciples of the Spirit of Disharmony, Discord. My magics decimated their number, and though a few escaped, most of the cultists were captured and rehabilitated thanks in large part to my efforts.

It was I who stood between the town of Hoofington and the dread Ursa Major that they had awoken with their town’s expansion. The infant that unicorn in Ponyville dispatched was nothing compared to the Ursa Major; my life was imperilled more than once in our three-day struggle, but I ultimately was victorious, enjoying the adulation of the public as I recovered from the battle.

Unfortunately, that was the last time I would ever receive such praise, for it was also I who dealt with the Lade of the Hollow Shades, Countess Fang. The Pale Pony of the Shade was not the greatest foe I had ever faced – indeed, destroying her and ending her unending hunger for pure young ponies was one of my easier feats of heroism – but it was she who dealt the deadliest blow.

With her dying breath, she cursed me, sapping me of my strengths. I immediately noticed the reduction in my magic – where once I could have lifted a pony’s home, now I struggled to lift just the pony – but it wasn’t until I returned to the little town in the woods I had liberated that I learned the true extent of the curse. Where I had expected cheers and accolades in my honour, instead there were blank stares and confused questions. To the people of Hollow Shades, it was like I’d never even showed up, let alone freed them from the terror that had consumed their lives.

Every place I returned to, the story was the same; my deeds were done, but the one who had done them was forgotten. The Cult of Disharmony had been broken up by the Royal Guard. The Ursa Major had simply lost interest in Hooflington and returned to the Everfree. Vanhoover and the orcas enjoyed the fruits of their peace, but felt they had come to terms naturally!

So now I travel from town to town, not as the wandering hero that only I remember I am, but as a simple showmare. Inevitably, I boast of the deeds that I have accomplished, only to be rebuffed by those who remember otherwise now, or those who demand a demonstration.

It matters little; as soon as I’ve made my wage, I continue on my journey. It is only a means to an end, you see; what I truly seek is the means to end this curse, to reclaim my magic and the reputation that come to realize meant so much more.

One day, the world will remember the Great and Powerful Trixie once again!

Commentary from Donny’s Boy

Trixie! Yay! She’s always a sight for sore eyes. I’m not sure which would be sadder—if everything Trixie says is true and this is how it all happened, or if Trixie is an unreliable narrator and this is just what she believes (or wants to believe). Either way, I found this a moving tale of a fallen hero who’s boastful voice is all she has left of her glory days. Very nice!