Trixie stirred in the velvet hammock where she slept. The inside of her purple wagon was already alive with the faint hum of enchanted trinkets, most of which she wouldn't be able to find in the cluttered mess.


Dawnlight slipped through a star-shaped window and her azure coat glimmered, silvery mane spilled messily over her pillow. Her hooves stretched, brushing the lavender walls of her cramped sanctuary. There was hardly any space to move. Within Trixie’s wagon, boxes stacked atop each other to line cupboards where each shelf was overburdened by its precious contents.


The air carried the scent of sage, parchment, and a whiff of something charred. A reminder of her less-than-stellar magical experiments. Today, though, her heart raced with purpose: she was bound for Mount Ember, a volcano brimming with reagents—phoenix ash, lava crystals, dragon’s breath moss—essential for rituals that would cement her as a sorceress of legend. But those weren’t the real prize. Atop Mount Ember, within the crater where no other beast could survive, lived a mighty dragon. It’s hoard was legendary, with not only treasure but all manners of artifacts and equipment that would make any pony an even more powerful magician!


“The Great and Powerful Trixie rises to conquer!” she proclaimed. Her horn sparked indigo as she rolled from her bed and her hooves clicked on the polished wooden floor. She swayed her hips, loosening her limbs for the journey ahead and her tail flicking with theatrical flair. The volcano’s heat demanded caution, and Trixie, ever the showmare, intended to prepare thoroughly. 


She trotted to a cluttered shelf and levitated a grimoire to study a heat-resistance spell. She would need to decide which wards she’d use in the battle ahead.  As she spun to grab her satchel, her flank grazed a brass lantern perched precariously on a table, its flame flaring to life from a dormant enchantment.


“Yow!” Trixie yelped, leaping sideways as a sharp sting seared her hindquarters. She whirled, glaring at the lantern’s flickering glow, now smugly illuminating a singed patch of her coat.
 
“Trixie’s magnificent posterior is not kindling!” she huffed, rubbing the tender spot with a hoof. The wagon’s tight quarters were a minefield of magical hazards, and she muttered a curse at her own carelessness. Still, hunger gnawed at her and breakfast was the next order of business. She’d need her strength for Mount Ember’s trials.


Squeezing past a stack of scrolls, Trixie reached the kitchenette, a corner barely wide enough for her to turn. Her horn glowed, summoning a pan and a loaf of bread from a charmed cupboard. “A simple meal for a grand adventure,” she mused, igniting the stove with a spark of magic. The burner flared red, and she hummed, slicing bread with a levitated knife. The wagon’s confines forced her to shuffle awkwardly, and as she leaned to grab a jar of jam, her tail swung low, her rump brushing the stove’s sizzling surface.


“Gah!” Trixie screeched, vaulting forward as a blistering pain erupted across her backside. The wrought iron fixture which had been heated almost red-hot pressed within the cleft of her backside. The unfortunate angle meant Trixie felt the searing pain directly between her unblemished asshole and the pretty slit only a few inches below it.


 The pan clattered to the floor. Her ass throbbed, the sensitive skin now scorched in a perfect circle, the burn far worse than the lantern’s kiss. “This accursed wagon conspires against Trixie!” she wailed, fanning her singed rear with her tail, only to wince as the motion caused her charred skin to sting further. Her pride smarted as much as her hide, but she refused to be undone by cookware.


Panting, Trixie eyed the kitchenette with distrust. “No more indoor disasters,” she declared, her voice wavering but resolute. The volcano’s reagents were worth any indignity, but she’d be damned if she’d roast herself before even leaving. 


She gathered her courage, and her satchel, and decided to cook outside, where the open air might spare her backside any further unfortunate encounters with flame. Her horn glowed, levitating the pan, bread, and jam, and she nudged the wagon’s door open, stepping into the cool morning.


Outside, the meadow was serene. Mount Ember’s smoky peak loomed in the distance and Trixie set her supplies near a ring of stones, her hooves scraping the earth to clear a spot for a fire. “Trixie shall master the elements!” she boasted, stacking twigs and sparking them with a spell. The flames crackled to life, and she balanced the pan over them, her confidence returning. She turned to fetch the bread, her tail swishing too close to the stones. Her hoof caught on a root, and with a startled “Whoop!” she stumbled backward, her already-tender rump landing squarely in the fire.


“AAAAH!” Trixie’s scream echoed across the meadow as agony exploded across her hindquarters. The contact lasted only an instant, but it was enough for her sweet pony cunt to bake.


She shot upright, flames licking her fur, and bolted toward a nearby stream, her satchel bouncing wildly. Though she had liberated her rear end from the fire, several glowing embers still clung to her puffy vulva, spurring her into a blurred pace. 


Plunging her rear into the icy water, she hissed as steam rose, finally cooling. She sat there, half-submerged, her mane plastered to her face, and groaned. “Trixie’s greatness is… temporarily dampened,” she muttered, glaring at the fire’s distant glow. Her rump was singed,, her pride battered, but the volcano called, and, even now, she refused to let a few silly burns stop her.


She hauled herself from the stream, dripping and shivering, and salvaged her supplies. The pan was scorched but usable, and she managed a soggy breakfast of bread and jam, eaten standing to spare her aching backside. Her satchel now held a salamander-thread cloak, cooling salve, and a map to Mount Ember, all packed with care to avoid further mishaps. Hitching her wagon, she set off, the rattle of wheels masking her occasional winces. “The Great and Powerful Trixie endures!” she proclaimed, though her tail stayed tucked to hide her blistered backside.


She’d meet her friends soon—Twilight Sparkle, Starlight Glimmer, and Sunburst—and together, they’d face a dragon, a foe far fiercer than her morning’s blunders.


####








Hours later, after almost a full day of travel, Trixie rolled into a clearing at Mount Ember’s base. Up close, the volcano seemed even more foreboding under the sulfur-tinged sky. 


She unhitched herself gingerly, each step a reminder of her scorched hindquarters, now a tapestry of lantern, stove, and fire-induced burns. The volcano’s heat sought to make her balk, but she held her head high with her mane catching the breeze. 


Three unicorns awaited around a campfire: Twilight Sparkle, her lavender coat pristine, horn aglow with calm authority; Starlight Glimmer, teal-streaked mane framing a sly grin; and Sunburst, orange fur dusted with ash, clutching a scroll nervously.


“Trixie! You’re here!” Twilight called, trotting over. “We’re planning our move against the dragon in the crater. It’s guarding a hoard of magical artifacts.”


“Artifacts? A stage fit for the Great and Powerful Trixie!” Trixie replied, striking a pose then wincing as her burns protested. She shifted to one side, praying her singed flank stayed hidden. “Trixie is ready to dazzle this beast into submission!”


Starlight smirked, hooves crossed. “Dazzle? Trixie, this dragon’s scales shrug off spells. We need a plan, not fireworks.” She nodded to Sunburst’s map, marked with the volcano’s winding paths.


“Plans are Trixie’s forte!” Trixie declared, stepping toward the map. Her tail flicked, grazing a sun-warmed boulder nearby. “Eep!” she squeaked, hopping aside as the sudden source of heat near her already-burned backside made her panic. She froze, forcing a grin. “Just… perfecting my stance for strategy!”


Sunburst adjusted his glasses, puzzled. “Uh, okay. The dragon’s fire breath is our main worry. I’ve got wards in mind, but they’re tough to sustain in this heat.”


Trixie nodded eagerly, desperate to shift focus. “Trixie’s wards are legendary, don’t you worry! All I need to do is gather some reagents from the surrounding area and....” She eased onto a patch of grass as she spoke, aiming for cool ground, but misjudged and sat on a stone radiating the day’s warmth. 


The warm stone had a peculiar shape, like a long curled finger extending upwards. Its base buried deep in the soil near the foot of the volcano, it leeched heat from the earth. Trixie sat upon it, the pointed shape finding her unprepared pony-hole vulnerable as she sank her weight upon it. “Yow!” she gasped, jerking upright and coughing to cover her outburst. “Ahem—dragon specifics, now!”


Twilight tilted her head. “Trixie, are you alright? You’re acting… twitchy.”


“Twitchy? Absurd!” Trixie laughed, her voice edging toward panic. The hot stone sizzled as her sensitive inner coils baked in the heat, causing a mysterious hissing sound to fill the air and a thin pillar of steam to escape from between her cheeks.


Trixie stood up, wincing as the stone slipped free and she backed away, only to bump her rump against a smoldering log from a campfire. “Gah!” she yelped, spinning to hide her grimace. “Trixie is simply… electrified by the challenge!” Her flank was a throbbing mess now, each burn piling onto her morning’s woes, but her pride refused to crack.


Starlight grinned, unaware of Trixie’s torment. “Electrified’s good. We’ll need it. The dragon’s hoard might hold a spell tome, but its claws are no joke.”


“Claws? Fire? Trixie laughs at danger!” Trixie boasted, sidestepping a hot rock. Her horn sparked, levitating a stick to jab at the map, but her flourish sent her tail brushing toward a stray ember that had splintered from the firewood. “Ow!” she hissed, biting her lip to silence a scream. “Trixie proposes a flanking tactic!” she blurted, gesturing wildly to distract.


Sunburst scratched his mane. “Flanking’s solid, but we’d need a decoy. A spell, maybe?” He glanced at Trixie, who was subtly rubbing her rear against a tree, only to squeal as the sun-warmed bark scorched her again. “Trixie? You sure you’re okay?”


“Never finer!” Trixie chirped, eyes watering. She pranced in a circle, feigning deep thought, but really seeking a moment’s relief from her burns. “A decoy spell is ideal! Trixie volunteers, drawing the dragon with her unmatched charisma!” Her offer masked a hope to stand still, far from more fiery traps. Standing head-to-head with the dragon, at least its fiery breath wouldn’t be able to burn her backside any further than the day’s misadventures. She hadn’t even faced the foe and her ass was already half-cooked!


Twilight nodded, focused on the map. “Alright! Trixie will set up the wards and the decoy, Starlight and I on offense, Sunburst will provide any support he can and make sure things don’t get out of hand. We’ll need perfect timing; the dragon’s senses are razor-sharp.” She traced a crater path, oblivious to Trixie leaning against a sun-baked crate, which seared her flank anew. Trixie swallowed a scream, her hooves dancing as she fought to stay composed.


“Timing! Trixie’s specialty!” she gasped, voice strained. Her burns were a constellation of pain, each a memento of her wagon’s betrayal and the clearing’s hazards. Still, she’d never admit it. Her showmare’s ego outweighed her agony. As the group continued to discuss their plans, her ass continued to bake against the iron rivets that held the wooden crate together.


Starlight clapped her hooves. “Done. We rest tonight, strike at dawn. Trixie, you’re sure about the decoy? It’s dangerous.”


“Danger is nothing more than Trixie’s spotlight!” Trixie declared, posing to conceal her singed side. “This dragon will cower before us!” She stepped forward boldly. As she pranced towards the group a glowing ember drifted from the sky and landed squarely upon her hindquarters.


“Eek!” she squeaked, hopping back with a dramatic twirl. “Just… practicing my grand entrance!”


Her friends exchanged looks but shrugged, diving back into planning. Trixie exhaled, her rump a throbbing testament to her chaotic morning. A dragon loomed, its fire far deadlier than her burns, yet her resolve held. She’d shine tomorrow, though she’d be standing, not sitting, for days.