A tremor shook the night.

The mansion quivered. Yells resounded and a long, grating screech rang out. A side table, laden with hors d'oeuvres, came hurtling out the open Prench doors, spraying snacks and cartwheeling off the deck to flatten the roses.

Two passengers shrieked as they sailed clear, landing in the hostas.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Rarity found her hooves first, limping to the lawn and surveying the havoc with horror.

Trixie extricated herself slowly, wiping at her muddy cape.

"And stay out!" resounded from the house.

"This." Rarity's pupil's shrank. "Is the worst." Her eyes widened. "Possible." Her lip wobbled. "Thiiiiing!"

Trixie's ears went flat as the fashionista burst into tears. She reached out tentatively, but withdrew as the sobbing redoubled.

"T-Trixie didn't know—"

"And you!" Rarity's tears evaporated as she rounded on Trixie. "Just what were you thinking, acting so—"

Trixie's inched back with each word as Rarity's volume and ire grew. The magician looked ready to break and run when yells for quiet and a shower of canapes interrupted.

Rarity froze, lip wobbling. "I, I have never been so humiliated in my life!" She drew a huge gasping breath.

"Trixie is very, very sorry!" The magician threw herself prostrate. "Trixie was wrong! She shouldn't have tried—"

"Hmph!"

Trixie looked up to find Rarity's nose in the air, neck arched away. "Trixie is…" The magician's voice quavered, but she firmed it. "Trixie will make it up to you!"

"Hmph." Rarity gingerly stripped off her ragged dress, folding it carefully, before sighing and dropping it. She ran a spell over her coat and mane to remove the mud, studiously ignoring her companion.

Trixie stood warily. "Please come with Trixie?"

No response.

Trixie turned awkwardly, trotting a few steps before looking back. Rarity limped after, still looking away. Trixie sighed, half relief and half disappointment.

They left the garden, meandering through Canterlot's gas-lamp night. Trixie paused to rinse off in a fountain. Rarity's limp eventually disappeared, and they were walking side-by-side as they descended the mountain.

The quiet streets slowly grew noisier and noisier, until they stepped through a small gate, leaving the stone streets for a city of tents. Walls of kaleidoscope cloth hemmed them in, soaring up to strings of bright lights. Signs flashed and tinny jingles rang out, hucksters called invitations, scents of popcorn and caramel laced the air. Rarity quailed at the onslaught of kitsch.

"Trixie has something to show you here." She pointed towards a dimmer section, adjoining the strip. Rarity shuddered, but followed through a twisting maze of smaller stalls.

"Trixie really is very sorry." The magician hung her head. "She knows you were anticipating that party, and—"

"Hmph!"

"A-And she shouldn't show off at a soiree." They stopped at a circle of tiny tents, labeled 'Space To Sit'. Trixie paid the gatekeeper, who pointed to one. She led Rarity in, revealing a dimly lit space with a few cushions, and tied the flap.

Rarity watched in bemusement as the light flickered. The walls glowed brighter, swirls of magic appearing on the canvas. Suddenly, sharp gleams speckled the walls, and a scene appeared.

Trixie watched her friend's expression shift from guarded curiosity to growing wonder as the walls vanished into a still sea. Brilliant stars swarmed overhead, crowding a huge cool moon. The cushions now sat atop a small island, lost in a vast, silent ocean, only waves separating the starry water from the bright sky.

Rarity took a cushion. Trixie sat, leaning against her. As they stared into the distance, Rarity's tension slowly dissolved.

"Is—" Trixie coughed quietly. "Is Trixie forgiven?"

"Of course." Rarity turned and smiled. "You know I can't stay mad at you. But this apology was… uncharacteristic, to say the least."

Now Trixie looked away. "Trixie had friends before," she mumbled. "But it never… lasted. Trixie believes in friendship now, really! Friendship is magical! But…" She reached out to poke the wall, rippling the sky. For a moment, the walls were clear. "But Trixie knows, some magic is just an illusion."

"Oh my." Rarity sighed, and threw a hoof around her friend's neck. "Trixie, even illusions are real." She poked the tent herself. "We don't have to settle for what we see. We can choose what it means. And I think it means you don't have to be the Great and Penitent Trixie anymore. Alright?"

"Trixie feels much better."

"That's good." Rarity smiled and gathered a fold of cloth. "Now, help me figure out how they make this thing work."