In the crisp night air, the faint trickling of the square’s central fountain echoed throughout the empty streets. A faint breeze stirred the air, picking up and scattering loose trash as small eddies whirled though the empty space. Above, the clouds stirred as the wind picked up, strong slivers of moonlight acting as spotlights for the dance below. A cruel gale swept down, dispersing the flitting debris and winding its way through every alleyway and side-street. Trixie shivered as the gale passed over her, the cold easily cutting through her pitiful cloth blanket. The rag was far too small to cover her, and she had resorted to pressing herself against the cold stone of the alleyway in an attempt to keep the harsh wind at bay. A look of panic sudden filled her face as she peered through the gloom, staring at the ground just a pace in front of her. Sitting at the base of the wall, carefully folded and weighed down by a rock, was a matching starry cape and hat. Another gale blew through the city, but Trixie’s focus didn’t waver until it had passed. Seeing that the hat and cape were still secure, she let out a sudden sigh, as if she had been holding her breath. As long as those two things were safe, she still had some tie to who she was, and some hope for the future. Her thoughts turned inward, choosing to ignore the bitter cold reality in favor of the warmth of the past. Years on the road, working her way up from a mere street performer to somepony with a beautiful wagon and dedicated fans of her very own. All of that, years of hard effort, destroyed in a single instant by the fat paw of an Ursa Minor. Trixie bit her lip, fighting back tears. She knew she was better than that, but the beginnings of tears still burned in the cold. That trip to Ponyville had been a terrible mistake. She had heard rumors that the whole town was quite impoverished and hadn’t really expected to make much of a profit. All she had wanted was to spread her fame a bit farther, to get her name out there in the world. Everything she had worked for, gone, ruined by those stupid ponies. The spark of her anger restored some warmth to her chilled frame. They way they looked at her after that purple unicorn stopped the Ursa Minor had made her blood run cold. She could see the hate and contempt in their eyes ? they all blamed her for bringing that beast into their town and letting it rampage, even though it was those two idiotic colts who intentionally provoked it and lead it into town. To top it off, that unicorn had the nerve to rub her success in Trixie’s face, smug in the knowledge that she had saved the day. Trixie shuddered, wondering what would have happened if she hadn’t left town as quickly as she had. In such a backwards town as that, they probably would have lynched her on the spot. They would have turned on her with just one word from that unicorn, without a doubt. But that wasn’t the worst of it, not by a long shot. Trixie grit her teeth as the memory came back to her. The real insult was when she had returned for her belongings the following night, when she was sure everypony was asleep. They had thrown out everything, just gotten rid of it. Her wagon, her personal items, everything she had ever worked for or cared about, treated like common filth and disposed of. She could never forgive them for that cruelty. It was a small miracle that she had found her cape and hat in a wastebin behind town hall, her emergency bit supply. Years of living on the road had taught her to never be without some bits close at hoof. For the dozenth time, she found herself counting all the large stars on the hat and cape, and the hundred bit pieces she knew were sewed behind each and every one. She was so close to being able to purchase a new wagon, to starting a new life. The local dealer here in Canterlot was willing to sell her a smaller wagon for an excellent price, provided she could pay for the entire thing up-front. If she could make just twenty more bits then she could travel safely and start her rounds again, giving full shows on a proper stage to ponies who could appreciate her show-stopping ability. Trixie gasped, brought back to the present by a fierce gale that nearly ripped the blanket off her and banished what warmth her anger had brought. Trixie tried to pull herself even smaller, as if she could suddenly fit beneath such a meager blanket. The cold had sapped her of her strength and sleep clouded her mind. Trixie tried to fight it, knowing the danger the sleep promised, but she was too tired and cold to resist anymore. Tucking her head beneath a hoof, she allowed herself to give in to the smothering fog of sleep. [i]Trixie may have started out as a street urchin,[/i] she thought hazily, [i]but Trixie refuse to die like one. She will see the light of the sun in the morning... she will...[/i] [hr] The chirping of birds floated through the red dawn, songs of joy at the beginning of a new day. Trixie could dimly sense that something was wrong, that something needed to be taken care of, but her mind was dull and slow. With a sharp intake of breath, she tried to leap to her hooves, but her body couldn’t manage more then a feeble twitch. Panic quickly set in, driving the remaining fog from her mind. Something was terribly wrong and she needed to get moving immediately. Summoning as much concentration as she could muster, Trixie used her magic to levitate anything loose she could find nearby and started rubbing them on her body, trying to restore feeling and warmth. The pain came almost immediately, nearly causing her to break off the spell. Her body felt like it was on fire, and the items rubbing against her flank were burning coals. By that time she had recognized the symptoms of hypothermia and continued, trying to coax her blood to flow freely again. After several minutes of nauseating fear and pain, Trixie was ready to try moving again. Using the wall for support, she hesitantly climbed to her hooves, her body shaking and creaking with every movement. It felt like a monumental effort, just standing up, but Trixie knew it was ultimately her victory. [i]Not this time,[/i] she thought to herself, [i]The Great and Powerful Trixie can’t die from just being a bit cold.[/i] Leaning against the wall, Trixie took stock of herself. Everything seemed to be okay, despite the burning sensation. Taking a hesitant step forward, Trixie knocked the rock off her beloved hat and cape and levitated them besides her. Seeing that they were unharmed, and every star safe and sound, Trixie smiled weakly before stumbling forwards. “Look at yourself, Trixie... weak as a newborn foal,” she muttered to herself, trying to banish the darker thoughts from her mind. Hobbling, her legs still stiff from the cold, she made her way to the central fountain. The streets were empty ? it was far to early for normal ponies to be up and about. Slumping against the fountains lip, Trixie took a moment to look at herself in the water. Her coat was filthy. After sleeping on the street and rubbing trash all over herself, she had to try not to gag at the color of her lovely coat. Trixie bit her lip. In her kind of business, appearances were everything. No one would give her the time of day, let alone bits, if she didn’t look her absolute best. She wanted their bits, not their pity. They would see her as some filthy homeless pony, not the great, powerful, amazing unicorn that she was. She looked at the water in the fountain, shining bright and clear in the sun’s light. Trixie grimaced, her decision made. She wouldn’t have them look at her like that, not with those eyes. With an unsteady sweep of her horn, she gathered up a large glob of water with her magic and braced herself. When the water hit, it was like somepony had bucked her right in the chest. The cold water seared her still weak limbs, but she didn’t make a sound, just bit her lip and continued pouring the ice water on herself. “There, see Trixie? That wasn’t so bad. You’re strong, you can do this, no problem,” she said softly, consoling herself as she used her blanket to try and towel off, whimpering slightly as every breeze brought the chill deeper into her bones. With a quick check of her flanks, Trixie donned her cape and hat, and started trotting in slow laps around the fountain. It burned to air-dry in such chilly weather, but Trixie knew that moving would make ease the pain, even if she felt so weak at the moment. As she made her rounds, she inspected the square, scouting performance spots. [i]No... that alleyway is no good,[/i] she thought. [i]Too hidden from the rest of the square. Can’t set up in front of a shop either, the owners will chase me away.[/i] Her body warming up from the exercise, Trixie picked up the pace, still scouting. [i]The best spot would be near one of the high-class shops, but not too close. Trixie just need to get a bit lucky.[/i] A pained look cut across Trixie’s face, interrupting her thoughts. [i]Ah... Trixie hasn’t eaten in days, has she? Well, too bad. Trixie has been through worse, she can do this,[/i] Trixie thought, grimacing. She had been able to slip into orchards at night to eat while she had been traveling, but the city was an entirely different matter. Trixie eased herself to her haunches, sitting in what she considered to be the most visible portion of the square. “Well Trixie, this is it.” she said to herself, “It looks like here at the fountain is the best bet. Now to wait for an audience.” [hr] The square was teeming with life, the population of Canterlot flowing through and around the various shops and carts. Trixie smirked, conjuring another shower of sparks. This was her element, her domain. The throng of the crowd, the eyes of the audience, all of them made her feel at home. It had been several hours, and although ponies were being even more stingy than usual, she had made a grand total of seven bits that morning. Trixie finished off the display with a deep bow and passed her hat around to the small crowed, smiling. Almost all of the ponies walked off without a word, and the remainder just looked at her like she was crazy. Not that it mattered. Trixie was a showmare first and foremost and was quite used to an audience that was unwilling to actually pay. Trixie’s smile barely changed as she took the hat back, empty despite its rounds. [i]Ungrateful sods, they wouldn’t know a?[/i] Trixie stopped mid-thought. She didn’t have time to stand there and complain about a cheap crowed, not when there were more ponies to perform for. With another deep bow, Trixie started her routine again for the already gathering audience. It was around midday when they came back. There was a lull in the crowed as ponies stopped to eat lunch, and Trixie was taking a break beside the fountain when she first noticed the table being setup. “Them again?” she muttered, trying to watch them out of her peripheral vision. Several ponies were setting up a series of tables in one corner of the square with remarkable speed. It wasn’t long before a massive line formed, trailing off into one of the side alleys. Trixie eyed the gathering crowed of dirty and ragged ponies with contempt. [i]What fools,[/i] she thought. [i]Going to those smug Equestrian Relief Society ponies for help... how weak.[/i] The ERS had set up shop in the square every day at about the same time since Trixe had first arrived in Canterlot. From what she could tell, the process was quite simple: all a pony had to do was sign their name on a list, and the ERS gave them a ticket for food and cheap shelter. The ERS claimed that the name list was solely for record-keeping purposes and that their services were absolutely free, but Trixie knew that was an absolute lie. What they took from you, in exchange for that little ticket, was your dignity as a pony. No matter what you did, who you became or where you went, that list would always exist ? there would always be a record that you let someone pity you. Trixie couldn’t help but sneer at the line of homeless and downtrodden ponies. She could see the defeat in the eyes of all those in line. None of them could so much as look up, they just shuffled forwards to get their next meal and bed. [i]How pathetic,[/i] she thought. [i]They don’t even have the will to live anymore... they just exist be pitied. Trixie will never stoop so low.[/i] Trixie stopped, sensing somepony staring at her. It was that same ERS stallion as before. Over the past few days, she had noticed him watching her more and more, watching her performances no matter where she was in the square. She stared at him, her eyes meeting his for just a moment before he gave her a friendly wave. Trixie turned sharply and looked away. She had seen it in his eyes for sure. Pity. It made her sick to think that somepony thought they were better than her, so much better that they could look down on her like that. Trixie tried to push the thought out of her mind ? lunch time was over, and the crowed was back in full force. With a strained smile on her face, Trixie rose to her hooves and started improvising a new routine. Hours passed and the audience became a blur, ponies melting into ponies. Trixie was starting to feel lightheaded from the lack of sleep and food, but she couldn’t stop. She had gotten lucky with a small family and had made another three bits. The thought of being halfway done filled her with hope, and her displays and tricks became grander and more daring. Through all of it, though, she could still feel that one stalion watching her, his eyes following every trick as he took down names. Trixie did her best to ignore him, throwing herself into her art. It wasn’t until she had finished another light display that she noticed him in the audience, watching her as usual. As the other ponies dispersed, unwilling to pay for the show, Trixie could feel him standing there, waiting. Trixie was just about to begin another routine when he spoke, his quiet voice breaking her concentration. “Hello there! My name’s Freely, what’s yours?” He said with a smile. “Hello, Freely,” she replied curtly. “I... uh... I like your show,” he stuttered, seemingly unsure of how to continue. Trixie couldn’t help but smile at the stallion’s attempts at small talk. [i]So you’ve come over here to pity Trixie in person, huh? Trixie thinks you’ll find it quite impossible.[/i] “I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been performing here on the street for a few days now, and well...” he continued, pausing to regaining his confidence, “You don’t seem to be eating. Or going home. Uh... anyways, if you want something to eat or need a place to stay, it’ll only take a moment. We just need your name, that’s all.” “I’m fine, thank you,” Trixie said, turning away from the pony. She was content to stand there and ignore him until he left. Nothing was worth signing that list, nothing. Trixie watched the stallion out of the corner of her eye, only turning around once she was sure he had returned to his post. [i]That’ll teach him,[/i] she thought, smiling as she started a new trick. [i]Nopony pities The Great and Powerful Trixie.[/i] The hours and tricks blended together, until Trixie lost all track of time. It was probably around late afternoon, judging by how the crowd had dispersed. The day was over and she still needed ten more bits before she could afford the wagon. Trixie tried to hide her disappointment and fear. No wagon meant another night sleeping on the streets, another night of that freezing cold and near death. Trixie’s knees buckled, all of her weariness crashing down on her at once. She was bitterly grinding her hoof against the cobble when she heard that voice again. “Hey there... Look, maybe we got off on the wrong start,” Freely said, smiling down at her. Trixie just looked at him with as much contempt and dignity as she could muster. “Here, take this, no sign-up required,” he said, taking an apple out of his saddlebags and placing it on the ground before her. At the sight of the apple, Trixie started salivating almost uncontrollably, her stomach growling, begging for food. None of that mattered to her. “I don’t want it,” she said, barely suppressing the desire to eat the apple right off the ground. Freely looked at her for a moment, and then the apple. “Would you like some bits instead? I have a few to spare, if you don’t like apples,” he said, turning to his saddlebags again. “I don’t want your money either.” Freely stopped reaching for his bag and stared at her. She could feel his searching eyes, see him pitying her. Their eyes met. “How about this,” he said suddenly, breaking eye contact. “You’re good at magic, right? I’ll just turn my back, and if that apple were to disappear, then who would know?” He gave her a knowing smile before turning away. Trixie looked at him for a moment, slack-jawed, before the rage came over her in waves. [i]First he dares to pity Trixie,[/i] she thought, leaping to her hooves, [i]Now he dares patronize Trixie as well? Well, Trixie will show him! Nopony makes a fool out of The Great and Powerful Trixie, nopony pities The Great and Powerful Trixie![/i] The apple floated before her eyes, gripped tightly in a levitation spell. “Oh, I’ll make it disappear alright,” she said before hurtling the apple with all her might over his shoulder, making sure that he saw it fly off into the distance. “There, the apple is gone... Tada,” she added sarcastically, her voice oozing venom. Freely turned to face her with an odd look. “Well, that’s one way to make something disappear, isn’t it? Here you are,” he said, tossing a coin into her hat. “I told you, I don’t want your pity!” Trixie screamed before quickly clamping her hooves over her mouth. “Pity? What pity?” Freely said with a smile. “You just performed a trick for me, didn’t you? I just gave you a tip like any other pony would... So, what’s your name?” Trixie swept up her hat, not even bothering to look inside, and gave him a cold stare. “The Great and Powerful Trixie,” she replied, before dashing off into the crowed, not stopping until she was sure that he couldn’t have followed her. Almost instinctively, she placed her hat on her head, jumping a bit when the cold metal of a coin thumped against her mane. Removing her hat, she inspected the coin, a small smile on her face. It was a twenty bit piece. Trixie let out a little laugh. “The Great and Powerful Trixie doesn’t accept charity,” she whispered to herself, levitating the rest of her days earnings out of that hat. “At most, making that apple disappear was a ten bit trick,” she said, dumping all the other coins she had earned that day onto the alleyway cobbles. “Keep the change, Equestria. The Great and Powerful Trixie has a wagon to buy.”