Hey! It looks like you're new here. You might want to check out the introduction.
Organised by
RogerDodger
Word limit
400–750
Ten of Cups
Trixie shuffled the cards with her magic and rifled through them. “Pick a card, any card; but don't let Trixie see it!”
The filly nodded, determined to fool the magician. She waited until the right moment and stuck her hoof in.
“Excellent choice!” Trixie said, sliding the card forward.
It hadn't been, really. Card forces were among the first tricks in Trixie's toolbox. Trixie had known beforehoof exactly which card she would pick (ten of cups) because she had picked it for her. There really was no choice; Trixie had already made it for her. Magic like hers was all about illusions, such as the illusion of choice, and the illusion of control.
To sell the second one, Trixie set the deck down and pulled out a permanent marker. “Now, just to keep Trixie honest, Trixie wants you to sign your name on your card.”
The filly nodded. Wings spread in concentration, she took the offered marker in her mouth and with a flourish, signed her name on her card.
“Perfect,” Trixie said, fanning the cards to let her slide it back in. Of course, that was an illusion of choice, too; she knew exactly where the card had gone. After all, she needed to know to set up for part two of the trick.
Trixie shuffled the deck. That, too, was an illusion; she knew exactly where the card had been placed and where it was now. “I’ll bet you didn’t know that even Trixie’s markers have magical powers, did you?”
The filly raised an eyebrow and shook her head. It had looked just like the markers she used in school.
“In fact…” Trixie pulled over a large clear glass basin of water. “Trixie’s marker will imbue the card you’ve chosen with waterproof properties. Your chosen card will float!” she promised. With a winning smile, she dropped the deck inside.
All the cards sank.
That wouldn’t have been terrible, had the cards not instantly begun to dissolve. Trixie tried to salvage them, but as she dug her hoof in, all that came with her were strings resembling paper mache.
Amidst the giggling of the foals and even a few of the adults, Trixie blinked. “Oops,” she said, wiping her hoof off on her stage.
And, perhaps most importantly, the illusion of error.
Some errors, though, weren’t an illusion. One of Trixie’s exaggerated shudders was real as she remembered the incident with the Alicorn Amulet, and how badly it had corrupted her mind. Sure, Twilight had forgiven her, and good rumors had also spread about her fireworks display; but after that, she'd needed to keep a very low profile. This was why she was currently doing rounds, wasting her vast and expansive talent on foals’ birthday parties and Cute-ceañeras. Sure, she could have chosen not to; but that would have meant choosing to starve. And Trixie was most certainly not about to choose that. Really, everything was the illusion of choice; her choice had already been made for her.
The filly looked up with confusion in her eyes. Trixie let it slowly burn there, and when her mouth curved downwards as the first inklings of ‘betrayal’ crept in, she finished her trick. “Trixie is very sorry that didn’t work out,” she said, lighting her horn and sliding over one of the sandwiches provided. She held it out.
The filly glared at Trixie, as this had been a crummy consolation prize; but gamely took the sandwich and turned to walk off-stage. She bit into it… but frowned as her teeth hit something that wasn’t cheese…
She pulled her head back, and clenched between her teeth…
No way!
She held it up, and sure enough, everypony could see her signature atop the ten cups. “My card!” she squealed.
Trixie bowed to thunderous applause. “The Great and Powerful Trixie, everypony!”
Still…
The filly’s eyes lit up like one of Trixie’s fireworks. Dropping the card and the sandwich, she darted over and wrapped herself around Trixie’s foreleg. “You're the greatest magician ever!” she proclaimed.
…sometimes…
Her stage facade cracked; Trixie smiled as she bent down and returned the hug. She glanced up to see the filly's mother, standing nearby with a camera, a smile on her face, too. Never one to miss a good photo opportunity, Trixie shook her hat off her head and placed it on the filly, and then picked her up, turning around to pose for a picture. Both wore wide, genuine smiles.
…it had been the right choice, all along.
The filly nodded, determined to fool the magician. She waited until the right moment and stuck her hoof in.
“Excellent choice!” Trixie said, sliding the card forward.
It hadn't been, really. Card forces were among the first tricks in Trixie's toolbox. Trixie had known beforehoof exactly which card she would pick (ten of cups) because she had picked it for her. There really was no choice; Trixie had already made it for her. Magic like hers was all about illusions, such as the illusion of choice, and the illusion of control.
To sell the second one, Trixie set the deck down and pulled out a permanent marker. “Now, just to keep Trixie honest, Trixie wants you to sign your name on your card.”
The filly nodded. Wings spread in concentration, she took the offered marker in her mouth and with a flourish, signed her name on her card.
“Perfect,” Trixie said, fanning the cards to let her slide it back in. Of course, that was an illusion of choice, too; she knew exactly where the card had gone. After all, she needed to know to set up for part two of the trick.
Trixie shuffled the deck. That, too, was an illusion; she knew exactly where the card had been placed and where it was now. “I’ll bet you didn’t know that even Trixie’s markers have magical powers, did you?”
The filly raised an eyebrow and shook her head. It had looked just like the markers she used in school.
“In fact…” Trixie pulled over a large clear glass basin of water. “Trixie’s marker will imbue the card you’ve chosen with waterproof properties. Your chosen card will float!” she promised. With a winning smile, she dropped the deck inside.
All the cards sank.
That wouldn’t have been terrible, had the cards not instantly begun to dissolve. Trixie tried to salvage them, but as she dug her hoof in, all that came with her were strings resembling paper mache.
Amidst the giggling of the foals and even a few of the adults, Trixie blinked. “Oops,” she said, wiping her hoof off on her stage.
And, perhaps most importantly, the illusion of error.
Some errors, though, weren’t an illusion. One of Trixie’s exaggerated shudders was real as she remembered the incident with the Alicorn Amulet, and how badly it had corrupted her mind. Sure, Twilight had forgiven her, and good rumors had also spread about her fireworks display; but after that, she'd needed to keep a very low profile. This was why she was currently doing rounds, wasting her vast and expansive talent on foals’ birthday parties and Cute-ceañeras. Sure, she could have chosen not to; but that would have meant choosing to starve. And Trixie was most certainly not about to choose that. Really, everything was the illusion of choice; her choice had already been made for her.
The filly looked up with confusion in her eyes. Trixie let it slowly burn there, and when her mouth curved downwards as the first inklings of ‘betrayal’ crept in, she finished her trick. “Trixie is very sorry that didn’t work out,” she said, lighting her horn and sliding over one of the sandwiches provided. She held it out.
The filly glared at Trixie, as this had been a crummy consolation prize; but gamely took the sandwich and turned to walk off-stage. She bit into it… but frowned as her teeth hit something that wasn’t cheese…
She pulled her head back, and clenched between her teeth…
No way!
She held it up, and sure enough, everypony could see her signature atop the ten cups. “My card!” she squealed.
Trixie bowed to thunderous applause. “The Great and Powerful Trixie, everypony!”
Still…
The filly’s eyes lit up like one of Trixie’s fireworks. Dropping the card and the sandwich, she darted over and wrapped herself around Trixie’s foreleg. “You're the greatest magician ever!” she proclaimed.
…sometimes…
Her stage facade cracked; Trixie smiled as she bent down and returned the hug. She glanced up to see the filly's mother, standing nearby with a camera, a smile on her face, too. Never one to miss a good photo opportunity, Trixie shook her hat off her head and placed it on the filly, and then picked her up, turning around to pose for a picture. Both wore wide, genuine smiles.
…it had been the right choice, all along.