I was hard on myself during my time as Princess Twilight's student. Nothing but my studies had mattered ever since she saved me from my own magic. When I finally burned out, Equestria was on fire.
My name is Luster Dawn — the Mare who Lassoed the Sun. As the top student at the School of Magic, Princess Twilight was entrusting me to make friends and study hard. I was completely obsessed with one of those things and entirely uninterested in the other. However, magic in Equestria had been doing strange things, and it was stirring up trouble and fear across the nation. I needed to do something good with my inherent intelligence, and this was my chance to do it. I’d read every journal and book I could get my hooves on until I figured this out... or until it all caught up with me.
Cover Art done by the talented {Shaslan} Abundant gratitude for my pre-readers and friends: {RanOutofIdeas, RDT, Mykola}
A sealing spell had many qualities, but taking it easy for a unicorn on her birthday was not one of them.
The thing wouldn’t budge no matter how many solutions I cooked up. The Guard’s key wasn’t working for only this door on this particular night, so it was up to me to break into a Royal Guard facility to access somewhere after dark that wouldn’t disrupt the peace in Canterlot while I practiced my spells. Working hard just to do more hard work was a perfect analogy to my daily routine, but tonight, a small nagging part of my brain wished I could have had some way to cut the corner. Hours ago, my friends slept in their beds and awaited morning. The sun never waited for me, the same as this lock.
I did love a good challenge, though, so my mental workbench once again rose to my mind’s eye. Twenty-two different counterspells had not cracked this specific lock. Just picturing myself finding another pointless incantation weighed my head down, so I glared at the marbled floor beneath me. Princess Twilight always said to go back to the basics— the components.
My horn outshone the lapping fires as it revved to life. Spells were logical things, at the end of the day. I had gone through too many complicated solutions, fused spells, and specific ideas when considering my options. Exhaustion allowed me to rely on basic strategies. The components of a spell, when not carefully constructed, were easily toppled. The spinning aura gathered around my horn while tendrils sprung out after each breath, after each new spell. Tension grew in the room as my heart beat faster, pressured under the weight of all this magic.
With a bent form and a small grunt, I lunged forwards and launched the spell from my horn. A flowery spiral of ethereal lights shone in slow motion as the massive spell rotated towards its target. My creation at last unleashed its potential when it made contact with the metallic door. The seal shimmered and pulsed before erupting in a white flash. It released the door to reveal an immense, dimly lit gymnasium.
“What did you do?” My onlooker stared blankly, clawing underneath his Royal Guard armor, trying to make room for a bit of sweat.
I passed him a sheepish smile when the hallways warped back into my perception. “I probably broke any seals attached to the door. It’s probably for the best, though, since whoever made that new spell didn’t account for overcharging.”
The opening held such contrast against the bright hallways, because inside, the deep and the dark reigned. I shifted my saddlebags and walked to my final destination at long last.
“Well, at least it’s not my problem,” the gryffon muttered, nearly out of earshot. “Oh and Luster.”
I quickly turned, bouncing my legs while blurting out, “Yeah Gallus?”
He scoffed, then quipped, “We usually don’t let tigers in there, so don’t go tearing up the place or Captain Berrytwist will have my wings.”
“The Princess has already granted me this birthday wish against her own judgement, so for her sake, you can count on me.” He gave me one last amused look and nodded before walking back to his post down the torchlit, white-bricked hallway.
Whatever he meant by tigers I completely missed, because the massive room in front of me with its assortment of monochromatic equipment held me captive.
Two large meshes hung down from the high ceiling, slicing the floors into three regions, but they allowed room on the sides for ponies to walk through. Skybound windows intermingled with the metallic bars of the roof’s structure, letting in thin slits of moonlight and revealing the cushions and cubbies against the walls. Along the ground at the edges of the room, small, dim, white lights masked the light blue clay in a grayscale hue and caused criss-crossing shadows along the large gray bricks of the walls.
I broke out of the trance with a head shake and quickly closed the door behind me. I took stock of my surroundings as I stepped into the middle of the first court and levitated my saddlebags into a cubby. The smooth floors were engineered with spellcasting in mind, so they could absorb rogue magic and keep me stable while practicing. I closed my eyes and flared my horn. The chilled room was brimming with enchantments, probably mostly containment and sound muffling spells, following barriers one-oh-one — the low light levels and crisp air was important for the longev—
An impact wave rippled from my left and met my haphazard barrier spell with full force. The world went white for a second.
I regained my balance and massaged my forehead before looking up. The strobing brightness of a new light show forced my eyelids to squint. Beyond the last mesh, neon yellow beams and bursts bounced off the the walls, forcing the divider to sway under the power of that cloaked unicorn’s magic. Fizzled out energy fell to the floor as their head and chest bobbed at the air. A stray curl of their tricolored mane hung down, covering their face from me.
Whatever face it was, I couldn’t have it disrupting me.
“Yo!” I exclaimed, trying to quell my fight or flight response. “I’m in here now, could you drop the power of those spells a bit?”
“M-my bad!” the mare shouted, not turning towards me. “Wasn’t expecting that much oomph. You know how magic can be these days.”
I had gotten through to her, so I accepted her mediocre apology with an, “All good!” and recentered. From that point, I couldn’t waste any more time.
An impromptu barrier spell was definitely a warmup, because I could feel the movements of magic like a warm breeze on the inside of my legs. My aura grabbed a scroll from my saddlebags and unfurled it during its journey to me. Fallo imagine, accelero, and practicing creative uses of fingo were all good places to start. My track record with illusion spells had not been stellar, and Sharp Hex swore that this one was easy to master.
Memories of last night flushed into my head. These competitions were unpredictable, especially when casting any category of spells on demand. The round had unfortunately been to my opponent’s expertise, yet I would have ensured victory if my lacking mental library had contained the words on this scroll. Eventually, I secured my funds for the week, but it had been close. Way too close.
I flipped the scroll to the backside where the accompanying incantations resided. I set down the page and swung my body back and forth a tad, oozing the tightness out of my muscles. Learning new spells always took a drawn out process, but this was the most effective way.
The incantation was short and sweet, easy to master. School taught us a simple mental checklist, and I stuck to it every time. Focus on the words and the poetry, because that invokes a feeling. This feeling formed the shape of the spell, then it just needed the fuel. Of course, maintaining a clear head was a given, so I parted my mouth just slightly and let the air fill the balloon in my lungs.
An image not plain, it fools others with no strain.
I let out the held breath. I felt my focus probe my mind, pushing down on different areas of my forehead. I breathed and played it over in my thoughts once more.
An image not plain, it fools others with no strain
There. I felt the resonance with the spell, like my heart singing to a timely song. A shiver shot through my shoulders and flourished around my mind, awakening it. The feeling seeped into the torso, where my heart pumped it to the extremities. The currents of magic against my coat whistled with renewed vigor. I could feel the individual hairs of my mane as the energy flowed nearby.
“Fallo imagine.”
I blinked once and opened my eyes to see a mirror set down in front of me. At least, that was my initial thought.
Splotches of less vivid pinks and unnaturally wiggling legs signaled my inaccuracies with the spell, and my mane looked like it went through a river. I huffed and dissolved the magical image in front of me.
After that frame of mind seemed so correct, I grimaced at the imperfections. It might have passed the competition’s judgement or even passed as me in a crowd, but I was baffled at the way this illusion would freak out anypony that got within a buckball field range. This spell was supposed to be easy, not pathetic.
As my head rummaged through some dejected thoughts, my aura grabbed the scroll in front of me. I looked up to find some strange spells and hornwriting that looked familiar, but not expected. The scroll swiveled to reveal its seal, and matching the hornwriting was the Princess’ cutie mark. Yet, these spells were ones I learned last year or earlier.
I could have double-checked, but I had been pretty sure all the scrolls in my bag were recent.
My head swung over to the end of the gym through the meshes, but stopped halfway when I saw the hooded figure levitating a scroll in front of her face and walking past the cubbies where I placed my belongings.
Major red flags were waving among that neon yellow aura.
This mysterious unicorn stopped at the edge of the divider, barely peeking out. “I think that spell I cast switched our scrolls, so that’s on me. I’m so sorry.”
She went to retrieve her scroll from my magic, but I held onto it. When I spoke, the mare’s body froze. “Are you a student? If not, how do you know the princess?”
My hoofstep towards her thawed her from the prison of social discomfort. “Listen,” she said in a light, clear voice. It was too professional, like it was trained to sound elegant. “I just want to get back to practicing my spells.”
Just as I closed the gap enough to see her face, she looked away and covered it with her hood. The grilling continued while my hooves stopped. “Those spells went through military grade protections, yet you are practicing the magic of a teenager. Who are you?”
She was taller than I, about the size of a full-grown mare. Her slim legs, from what I could see, curved in the arch of a bow as they locked in place once again. In the dim moonlight, maybe she thought she could hide within the shadows or camouflage like a chameleon. Yet, she cast no spells to hide herself. Catching her on the run wouldn’t have been an issue, but the statue stayed in place besides a few mutterings and shallow breaths. And again, that tri-colored mane poked out from behind its armor...
Armor.
“Princess Flurry Heart?”
She pulled back her black hood, letting the curls bounce around her disheartened face. “Auntie said you are sharp.”
My heart floated to the front of my chest. “Princess Twilight really said that...”
“Could you make sure that she doesn’t know I was here?” Her voice was soft, and although she might be a princess one day, she had the heart of a worried teenager.
“No worries,” I said with a hoof in the air. “I didn’t plan on telling her.”
Her form lost an inch, and a couple deep breaths calmed her down completely. “Thank you.”
I could see the map of Equestria in my mind’s eye, spreading rulers and lines across it to see what kind of journeys could get her here in under a few hours. There were mountains, rivers, and frozen plains to cross in order to make it to Canterlot on her own. Anypony would have noticed something out of the blue, especially those in the Crystal Empire missing one of their royal family. I might have gotten swept up in my thoughts a bit, because she chuckled when she looked back at me. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here, right?”
Inferring from her worries and the time of night (morning?), I had a confident guess. “Getting away from it all?”
She looked around at the still, soundless gym. “Mmhm.”
“Especially with the pressures of ruling, I can totally see that. I do appreciate Princess Twilight, but even I enjoy the calm hours of the night.”
“She does think highly of you.” Flurry Heart’s opal eyes looked at my grin with a jaded calmness before sitting down on the cushion beside her, tail poking through her forelegs. “You are her top student, Luster Dawn.”
A piercing thought split my joyous face into a frown. “How’d you know it was me all that time?”
She nodded, and grew a faint smile. “I was here in Canterlot when you shook the world.”
I couldn’t help pursing my lips and looking away. This same old song and dance always seemed to resurface, especially when meeting others for the first time. It really was my legacy.
“I helped tend to you with Auntie when you first arrived back at the castle. I could never miss that messy golden mane again if I tried.” A gulp echoed behind her words as she paused. “You were out cold. Everypony was worried about whether your body could handle it. I remember the day after, it was like a sigh of relief went through the entire castle when the papers made it to the Empire.”
I glanced up at the now descending moon. “Yeah, that makes sense then.” This conversation wasn’t going anywhere productive. “Well, Princess, I can only ask that you don’t somehow swap these scrolls again. Got a busy night of practicing spells ahead of me.”
The court plopped against my hooves as I turned away and walked towards its center. My lit horn swapped the scrolls quickly, and behind me I heard it fall to the floor. Although I hadn’t performed the illusion spell perfectly the first time, the second would at least be better. Practice makes progress. Just in the past year was the first time I had learned a proper telepathy spell, but over time I mastered it. Vigor filled my veins as the memory of overcoming those obstacles flooded into me.
Again I went through my routine, my checklist, and found my center. Repetitions became effortless after all this time. Autopilot took over my actions, especially at this hour, and I set my horn alight as I attempted to recreate my image.
Somepony watching, however, disrupted things. “Maybe you could help me.” Sparks crackled and colored the gym in a shimmering yellowish orange as the spell fizzled out. I did a double take out of utter confusion and side-eyed the young Princess. This time, however, she wasn’t phased. “I apologize for the interruption, but this is important.”
Setting frustration aside was tough, but opportunities like this didn’t present themselves often. I was lucky enough to have made the best of one already. I set down the scroll and began completing the lap back to her. “With all due respect, Princess, why me? I’m not an accredited wizard yet.”
“There’s nopony else of your caliber who has experienced an anomaly, and there’s nopony else who has any reason to figure out how to stop them.” From her place by the wall, Flurry Heart scanned me with overpowering patience, waiting for my response. A scoff escaped me as I stopped beside her, joining her at the cushions, but it did not satisfy her.
After years of reading the papers and hearing it from teachers, there was one widely assumed claim. “They’re normal at this point, so why would anypony else look into it?”
Colors shone in her eyes and in her mane as she confronted me, even in this pale moonlight. Like her aunt, she could sit still as long as was necessary, never budging unless through a concentrated decision. So, when she turned to me, I met her gaze. “What happened to you was normal? I’d like to see the studies supporting that notion.”
I’d seen tricks like this before, these psychological tactics. She was appealing to my emotions, preying on the irrational side of me. Whether or not it was actually working, playing along was in my best interest. “What are you trying to say?”
“There’s something wrong with the magic in Equestria, and like you said, nopony else is looking into it.” She closed her eyes then and bowed her head. This was no game. “Lives could be at stake here, just like yours was. There are more incidents occurring, ones that aren’t being spread out across the nation. It’s…” she hesitated and took a breath. “It will be my duty to keep ponies safe.”
Apprehension took over for a moment. Princess Twilight was my greatest ally whom I would never attempt to circumvent. Yet, here her niece escaped her watch and found somepony in order to solve a mystery of apparent national importance without approval. The confusion of the situation was not going to get easier if I agreed to help Princess Flurry Heart. Her emotions were genuine, anypony could see that, but more than that, she truly believed that I could help by uncovering my past and finding the missing puzzle pieces.
She passed me a small smile while she waited, and sometimes she tugged at her cloak a bit to loosen it around her wings. The youthful mare was slim, and she might’ve even been younger than myself.
Perhaps I would sort this all out during one of my biweekly meetings with my mentor, but I could not turn down an opportunity to personally assist another member of the royal family. Especially if this would resurface the story of the Mare Who Lassoed the Sun, this partnership had the potential to be a career starter as a researcher and respected academic, even if I were bucking way out of my weight class. Imagining solving a decades-long mystery gave me a pulsefire. Somepony was smiling down on me.
“I’ll help you in whatever ways I can, Princess.” She needed to hear that, to have that outside assistance withdrawn from the entanglement of royal duties and political constraints. The energy within the room changed right then, as the sheer presence of the alicorn’s emotions radiated into the ether.
She focused on the task. “We need to find something that can clue us in on what is really going on. The Empire’s libraries are full of surprises, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t banking on it.” I looked away from Flurry into the deep, criss-crossing shadows on the walls. Research wasn’t this simple, unfortunately, and although years of historical runes and research were being rediscovered in the Empire, I doubted if a random topic on recent events would show up there.
Like the shadows, the path which I had once traced out to look through Canterlot’s libraries unfolded. “Out of my own curiosity, I’ve done searches in the library here for any information regarding what happened, but it was always dead ends.” The pessimistic demeanor vanished when I saw the dismay on my new associate’s face. “Of course, new materials or ones I’ve missed are always worth seeking out. I’ll put my best hoof forward, like with anything else.”
She took in one breath before gnawing at the gray cloak she wore, rustling about and then checking the time within the descending moon. “Great. Let’s hope that others will listen to us, Luster Dawn.”
“Please, just call me Dawn.”
“Sure thing, Dawn, as long as you stop calling me Princess.” Flurry got up, shedding off her cloak and flaring her wings. She revealed the tall, slender form which carried her like royalty, and the cutie mark which precisely confirmed it. The Crystal Heart shone brightly, embroidered with the twelve point snowflake of the Crystal Empire’s flag. The intensity of her stoic visage permeated the area, just as I felt when in the same room as Princess Twilight.
She turned towards the cubbies where her own things were stored. “I should be going soon, I can’t go through the day on no sleep at all.”
I followed her past the two dividers through the shadowy gym. “We should make a plan,” I offered. “How does meeting back up in a week or so sound? We could try and make some headway in research by then. Nothing concrete until next week.”
“Hmm.” Her horn hummed along with her as she packed back up her scrolls and a glowing crystal. “I can only be away after nightfall, and even then I never know what time I will be let go from my duties. It depends on the day.”
Another indecisive group member. Even royalty can’t escape the salivating jaws of procrastination. “Honestly, that’s fine. I can write a note on my door whenever I leave home after nightfall starting in five days. That should work out. I’m three doors down from Donut Joe’s, the slim apartment with a white door.”
“Luckily, Auntie has taken me to Donut Joe’s one too many times.” Saddlebags girted, she turned towards me one last time. Flurry was honestly beaming, and the creases on her face made it seem like the first time she had done so in a while. “Dawn,” she told me, “thank you. I’ll see you again soon.”
I waved a hoof as she locked her legs. “You might want to back up,” she warned.
Her horn started sparking. Without thinking, I dove towards the mesh, and the pop that followed made my ears ring for the rest of the night.
The gym felt hollow without her here, but this was what I was expecting earlier. Solitude. Myself and my spells. This was what I wanted, but the chance to make a new acquaintance and research partner, especially one of that status, was an added bonus.
It had taken some time away from my studies, however. I’m sure that my teachers would not be pleased with me being up so late, but I needed to get these spells down.
I needed to make progress.
“Accelero,” I whispered, retreating into my mind once again.
My payment for the debt the morning after my birthday was my tolerance for the inconveniences of the world.
Unfortunately for me, due dates don’t exactly care about tolerance, especially when the one enforcing the due date is the ruler of the nation. Fortunately for me, the debt payment did not include my cognitive functions, and this research report needed my whole brain.
This stuffed nook of an apartment was cozy, but often did not leave much breathing room. Three cubicles were all I needed, and whatever else I could’ve wanted was within walking distance. Sleeping, studying, and keeping food close by – in case the other two needed to happen without breaks – was my allocation of space. Books piled high in stray corners, enough to make foals want to use them for building blocks. The bedsheets were left unmade, browning from the weeks of use without a wash. The walls were decorated with notes, and any decor beyond those was covered with dust. It was a place to which I resigned.
That day, my brain preferred to do its work in the park. I quickly filled my bags and headed off along the cobble streets of Canterlot, my mind using the winds of the open air to power my thoughts.
Petrification magic was the topic of this research report. I wrote two pages of background knowledge, from the earliest cockatrices to the crystallization of powerful magical beings. I gave a full rundown of the methodology of the spell, including references to the original incantation and an explanation of the headspace of the spell. I mused upon further possibilities in the research and application of the magic, some of which the princess might pawn off to a review board for discussion of its viability. These rubric-bound portions I could write under any sedative or sleep debt.
I only needed to finish the paper with a ‘related friendship lesson.’ This required my full attention. The royal ruler was not interested in hearing about more conversations during my running practices, so I needed to come up with some other life experience which I could apply to this report. Somehow, I would find a way to stretch my memories with my creative freedom and language control in order to create a sufficiently productive essay. This process took time, and although the princess controlled the raising of the sun and moon, she could not move the hands of a clock backwards just for me.
Perhaps adding something about my encounter last night could help? I argued both sides before relying on some advice which the ruler herself had mentioned in one of our recent lessons. I have to be ‘A Mare of My Word’ if I want to be respected among any community, including scientists and researchers. She portrayed it along the same lines as honesty playing into good friendships, although we were talking about leadership positions.
Princess Twilight Sparkle was incredible in so many ways, but this friendship thing always baffled me. How could a pony earn wings from fraternizing? In all my years of studying, magic has fooled me in unexpected ways. Yet, even this event confused experts for two decades and still was not solved. I could understand seeing the value in something which caused the most important change in one’s life, but forcing it upon another pony who is going to school for a wildly different venture is delusion at best. Right? Right.
Ugh.
Yet, she has been overly helpful to me. Giving me guidance in order to fine-tune my casting during that first year, she catapulted my abilities. She provided opportunities for me to go above and beyond what other students were doing. She shared herself with me, allowing me to peer behind the curtains of an incredibly influential pony, so that I might be able to do the same one day. I’m sure that my reports, lessons, and questions took her away from the most important duties in Equestria at times, but never once did she leave me hanging.
I looked up to her. I gave her the whole of my respect. If I needed to write out some friendship lessons for her sake, I would.
As I stepped onto the grass of the park in northern canterlot, the memories of Twilight’s lessons and the lavish scenery around me began to meld within my senses. The bushes that scattered the sloped field shifted and distorted as they grew into walls of dark green leaves. The flowers sprouted into rows and diligently placed patches. Soon I realized where my mind was taking me – the Canterlot gardens, where three creatures hung motionless in a petrified prison. The perfect conclusion to this paper would be recalling the stories of this statue and how friendship tied into it.
I sat on the grass, picked up a quill, and wrote in the rising sunlight, extending my neck to soak it all in.
Thank you, Princess Twilight Sparkle.
My engrossed mind was shaken out of its focus by a flitted touch on my shoulder. I swatted and looked, expecting a fly, but instead I made contact with another unicorn.
He lost his balance immediately.
“White Noise! I’m so sorry.” I scooped him up in my aura, hanging him beside the paper and quill. I checked things over, glad to be finished. “What brings you here, White?”
Landing shakily on his hooves, the light gray stallion stood tall but was not any taller than myself. “I was trying to get your attention earlier, I was just on my way to the school.”
My eyes wandered to the sun as the assignment withered, decomposing into an ethereal yellow spiral that shot west towards the Canterlot Castle. “How long did it take you to build up the courage to come tap me?” I cursed under my breath, frustrated with my fixation. I quickly placed myself back into my surroundings.
“It must’ve been a good five minutes at least.” His smooth voice ran through my ears, barely even taking hold in my mind.
“So yeah, Ms. Scribble is gonna have our hides.” I stood on the grass, immediately drilling my hooves into the dirt. The school was about 1200 meters away, and getting both of us there was gonna take a lot of energy but I didn’t see many other choices. There were too many buildings between us and the school, and luckily the park was devoid of other life. The hearth within my heart revved to a blazing glow as I panicked, trying to slow down my thoughts enough to teleport us.
“Luster,” I heard a faint call whisper by my ears with the wind. “Can you hear me? For the third time, we don’t have school today.”
I inhaled and opened my eyes as I broke my focus away from the spell. “My birthday was last night, and I know it was on a Thursday.” My face lifted one eyebrow in White’s general direction, barely raising my head as I gasped again. “Today is Friday, right?”
He closed his eyes, lighting his horn in an off-white glow. “Let me see if I have it in my saddlebags, but we got a letter late last night. Yep, here it is.” As he let my magic take hold of the Academic Dean’s hornwriting, he added, “Also, for all the years we’ve known each other, you’ve never told me your birthday. Happy belated.”
“Thanks,” I muttered. I couldn’t believe the words on the scroll. The school closed for the day because of a mishap with the cauldron in the science lab? It took out a whole wall? Mr. Sprout had a tendency to go overboard, but did this actually happen?
His tone finally found some emphasis, I just didn’t expect the emotion of choice to be brooding. “It’s another bad sign. First the cutiemap goes haywire, then this happens. It’s not looking good for unicorns.”
“Bad sign?” I asked, sliding the scroll back into his saddlebags. “What do you mean?” I leveled with his dark green eyes, but he only glanced back with a scowl. “Are you okay, White?”
“Follow me to the school, let me show you something.” Meandering out of the grassy park, past the benches and scattered trees, White Noise kept his stride slow.
Since my plans for the day were cracked wide open, I needed to fill them with something semi-productive, and seeing my hometown neighbor so enthusiastic about something for once had to be noteworthy. I quickly assembled my saddlebags as I lurched into motion. I shook the stars out of my head as I got up too quickly and caught up to him. This headache was getting annoying.
Soon we were among the lively streets of Canterlot. Although not crowded, busy ponies, changelings, griffons, hippogriffs and dragons were carrying shopping bags, rushing to meetings, or sharing meals in the outdoor cafes. The overwhelming majority of the crowd were those pastel ponies, but the shiny scales and exoskeletons stuck out, and the stray kirin horn was a beacon of merging cultures. Canterlot harbored most of these other creatures, since the ambassadors and important diplomats all gathered here, at least that’s what Twilight told me.
The walls of buildings within the market district rose high above the creatures below, and the smooth stones around us echoed the sounds. Yet, the sun beat down on the backs of these lives, and so each stand was kind enough to lend some shade to the streets. We passed by different shops and street vendors as well, most of which were kind enough to wave with a smile, but after a few minutes of walking through the market district, we happened upon a character.
“Magic here! Get your fancy magic here! Spells like no other, and I’ve got all kinds of em!” Balloon-shaped vials and conic beakers, each with their own color of cork, lined the table and the support beams up to its pyramid roof. He reached out with one in his hoof in our direction as we walked past, hoping to achieve his goals and make his money.
I was ready to put up a bubble of sound around him without even looking, but White Noise stopped on a dime and swiveled. “Where’d you get those? The Potion Lab in Hollow Shades, it looks like. Or were you planning on pawning these off as ‘homemade’?”
The seasoned salespony of a unicorn took this in stride, firing right back. “And who’s to say I didn’t just take some, er, inspiration? And besides, reusing these vials is good for the environment. At least, that’s what ol’ Princess up there tells me.” He gave a confident head bob in the direction of the looming Canterlot Castle. The sun glared over the castle’s silhouette above me, and I couldn’t get a clear look at its usual glory.
“Really?” White Noise pressed, his smooth voice squirming into the conpony’s ears. “Why don’t you take one for me right here, then? If you made them, then they’re safe and you know exactly what the effects are.”
I had never seen him like this before. The foal I once knew bore through the stand and the vendor’s skull with his parental stare. His concerned visage was replaced with one of hostility. “White Noise, let’s go. This guy isn’t worth our time.”
The vendor’s blue hue gradually transitioned to pink in his cheeks as he clamped his teeth down. “Interfering with the marketplace, defamation, is a crime, you know. Get out of my sight before I call the Guard.”
White, the idiot he is, stood there in the shadow of the stand.
I took a step back and stabilized. I was gonna have to break this up. “You’re part of the problem with magic today. Ponies like you abuse the craft for profit without realizing its potential for destruction and impact on ponies’ well-being. These love potions of yours could, and most likely will, cause decades of depression in unsuspecting teens.”
My horn revved to life, finding my focus point immediately. The vendor made good on his threat, shouting,“Guards!”
I tore White back from the stand, lifting him up as a teal mare Pegasus and a charcoal stallion earth pony in golden, blinding armor rounded the corner. I walked between the two, trying not to shout. “Alright, you two.” He struggled and wiggled around in my magic, even attempting to shout. Glad I included that soundproof spell, I turned towards the two guards.
“Luster, what seems to be the problem here?” the stallion asked.
Before my head could come up with diplomatic excuses, I heard a muffled chuckle, and then a burst of laughter came forth from the vendor. “Oh I just got into an argument with somepony over here who was disturbing me and criticizing my merchandise. And yet he’s the hypocrite here.” He pointed one hoof at me while nearly bursting the bubble I had made for White. “You walk around with her, and you want to talk to me about ‘the problem with magic’? Get real, buddy.” He walked back around to his protected stand while we were left in the sunlight.
I dropped White after hearing that. The Guards split up and talked to both parties. I dared to look around at the ponies and creatures who were passing by.
I couldn’t read them. The rainbows of colors and myriad shapes of the different creatures in every which direction were too many to analyze, and they were gone before I could discern them apart. I felt my vision blurring slightly; this headache wouldn’t let go of me. I wondered what they all were thinking about me before I realized that I shouldn’t care at this point. It was a stupid situation that I found myself amidst. None of it was helping anypony, and I would rather be at the library reading up in order to disprove bozos like these in the future. That crazy day was three years ago, I just wished that ponies like these would let it go.
The pegasus was conversing with White, but I intruded. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get in any more trouble around here, officer,” I told her. “Sorry this all happened.” I gave a sheepish smile to keep things lax, and she gave me a nod before going towards the other Guard. I looked back, and the blue unicorn had uncorked a vial, showing its contents to the Guards. He looked back at us with the pleading eyes of a puppy, innocent to the dangers this world posed, afraid of the consequences that preyed on his innocence.
I turned back to White Noise as we started to walk briskly towards the school again, now in its sight and approaching through its red brick walkway which streaked through the large green space. “What in Celestia’s name was that?” His resolve never wavered, and I waited a solid three steps for a response. “We grew up as next door neighbors nearly our whole lives in Baltimare, but never once have I seen you like this. Since when was this you?”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Luster.” He chuckled, then proposed a hesitant question. “When was the last time we even chatted like this?”
I ran through my memories of the current semester and the summer preceding it. “It was just a few weeks ago. I know I’ve been busy with school, but White you never mentioned anything about ‘magic problems.’ Nopony has.”
Somepony was yelling in the distance, and although I saw White’s eyes scanning ahead, I stayed focused on him. “If you consider eight to be a few, then you’re right. We talked a bit about potentially traveling home, which you never got back to me about.” His mannerisms returning to their usual mundane nature, he waved a dismissive hoof. “I hope you had a nice stay and got plenty of work done.”
Before I had a chance to apologize or reply to any of it, I could no longer ignore the crowd which had gathered in front of the school. Their echoes resounded against the School of Magic, but it never felt whole or cohesive because of the cavernous opening in its side. The jaws of white bricks and metallic foundations jutted out behind the crowd, and their cries bounced around the backbone of the school.
My acquaintance veered his course to enter my personal bubble as we stepped onto the trespassed property. “This is what I wanted to show you.”
A group of fourty or so surrounded the explosion damage in a semicircle. Most of them were earth ponies, but a few pegasi as well as a couple dragons and a griffon were in the mix, all of varying ages. They wore that same smug hostility that I saw White showcase. Amidst the rogue cheering, whooping, and laughter, their unified cheer was jarring.
“Regulations for conjurations! Regulations for conjurations!”
White Noise continued towards the crowd before I stopped him. The chants and jeers of the crowd nearly overwhelmed my senses. “Hold your horses there, pal. We need to talk.” He reeled back, and we sat at the edge of the lawn.
I looked at the crowd before throwing the first question. “Who even are these creatures?” I shook my head, realizing the accusatory tone I used. “You know what I mean.”
White chuckled, unnaturally amused and vibrant. “I met them a few months back, if we’re still counting eight as a few.” He looked towards the crowd, who just opened their ranks for a unicorn to join in. “A classmate of ours in barriers and weaponized magics found a flier one day. ‘Come to learn the truth about magic,’ was its main slogan. They taught him about everything — the commodification of rogue magic, the unregulated procedures for developing spells and distributing enchantments, the abuse of powers to achieve wealth and status — and hearing about this, I had to know if it were true. They welcomed my scrawny, helpless figure with so much warmth, and they helped open my eyes to the world.”
He looked back at me like I was crying, with tears of his own welling up. “I remember the day you came back to school three years ago. I had told some ponies at lunch how I knew you, how we grew up together.” He forced out a shudder. “They feared you, Luster. Even though everyone knew the story, they could barely comprehend how a pony their age could do something that powerful.” A hoof clasped my shoulder and a compassionate frown met my eyes. “I saw how it hurt you. I saw the crazy looks and lonely lunches. I saw how you clammed up behind those books, and still do.”
I looked away. White was stepping way out of line here, and I could feel the outburst of rejection building up. But I never let it out. I wanted to hear what he had to say, to see if he could tell me something new.
“Don’t you want to understand why it all happened?”
Eventually my impulses won. “What could you tell me that Princess Twilight couldn’t tell me?” My vision blacked everything else out but his eyes. The glassy orbs were stained green, and behind those irises were the feelings he now harbored. As the outcasts on the schoolyard playground back home, we shared emotional moments before, but this time his eyes were different.
They held no doubt.
He backed off, ready to walk towards the crowd.
“The truth.”
He turned and joined the semicircle, a round of hoof bumps and camaraderie welcoming him. The group around him stood tall, cherishing this event and this ‘truth’ they held.
At this point, I sat at the edge of the lawn as the gray clouds began shading speckled patches of grass. The clouds covered the school, a beacon of research and information. This place was where the ruler shared what she knew, continuing the tradition of everything passed down to her. The clouds shifted to shade the crowd, a small group of individuals who held something different, something that wouldn’t be in the libraries or schools. My option was clear, at least for now.
I sat, the grass my companion and the clouds my messengers, as I witnessed the protest from afar.
The scenery shifted around me. Greens and browns and bright blue skies flooded my eyes with a spectrum of vibrant blurs, and that was without the ponies around me. My tired eyes struggled to send the messages to my brain, causing a slight headache in the back of my skull. That also wasn’t helped by the tugging of my maneband, nor the pounding of my hooves against the ground as I continued this run. The muscles and joints all over me were singing their frustrations. My head was overloaded.
That didn’t stop Sharp Hex from having conversations with me.
“Did they really think that the Princess was hiding something?” she pressed on, in between some deeper breaths. “Did they tell you?”
“They wouldn’t stop talking about it.” That got a chuckle and bought me some time to sort my thoughts. Friday’s events overlapped into the past couple nights but I could still remember some details. “They honestly believe that Princess Twilight is trying to increase the number of magical incidents intentionally. They say that she is paying ponies to use crazy spells and cause damages, or that she is fabricating the stories entirely to cause ‘fearmongering’ just to put money into the pockets of the governors. Like, what?”
Hex ran along my right side. Slim limbs carried her athletic, deep purple figure from trot to trot along the sparsely grassed path. Every practice, this was our formation, and she made sure of that every day for three years. I think she enjoyed how much I pushed her, seeing as she would be breathless when we first ran together. At this point, she could chat and trot just fine, and it made the runs pass by much faster.
“I never expected White to get into something like that. Who knew he could be so radical?” She talked about White Noise like he was an old friend. “I guess he could be a bit gullible at times, but you even told him your own account of what happened that day.”
“Right, right.” The world around me swirled as I felt some spit catch in my throat, poking my innards like a chip. I cleared it as best I could and said, “I guess White trusts them all that much.”
“Well,” Hex said with a huff, “that’s not how friends should treat each other. That’s what Princess Twilight taught us, right?”
The regurgitation came up once again today. “Ah, of course!” I echoed.
Sharp Hex, and the rest of the running crew, took friendship lessons to heart. Each pony was incredibly kind, and the combined suffering of being on a running team simply forced their bonding together over a common enemy. They took care of each other, and they took care of others when doing team volunteering. There were times, however, when they took the lessons a bit too far.
She covered a lot of ground quickly, and it was mildly difficult to keep my legs moving with her. “White shouldn’t throw away the considerations of an old friend like that. Literally, I could pull out five different points in my notes where our teachers have said something along those lines. It’s not like you were being dishonest, and he should know that the top student at the school would know if another pony were casting a spell that had caused the whole sun thing.”
She took in another breath, hitching a bit from the run’s exertion. “Also, he’s in our magic classes too. Magic isn’t perfect, and I feel like that’s common knowledge for unicorns at a magic school. If he can’t accept that weird things happen then maybe he should pay more attention or something. Doesn’t the data suggest that these occurrences are random? You know more about those studies than I do, I’m sure, but even I can tell when somepony is just disregarding it all. I dunno, Dawn, that peeves me.”
Hex could get upset, but even now she seemed more flustered than normal. I asked, “What’re you trying to say, Hex?”
“If he can’t even give you the decency to take what he was taught about friendship and apply it, why should you give it back?” A turquoise aura spun her short, indigo mane into a ponytail. Her matching eyes gave a sideways glance to me, but it was a look I had only seen my mother give to me — concern.
Something didn’t jive with me. White was somepony I’d known for years, I couldn’t just sever ties with him. Sure, the protesters didn’t make the most sound arguments, but it’s not like they were dead wrong either. Keeping connections helped me in the long term, especially with somepony from my hometown, and I didn’t need Princess Twilight to give me that advice. And at the end of the day, if White needed my help with something, I’d say yes.
“Duuuuuude, where you going?” I heard called out. Two Step was in front of the three others who had already turned around and started jogging back.
“Sorry!” I shouted, running back. “Inside my own head a bit.”
Hex slowed down to link up with me, giving me a slight bump as well. “My bad, I didn’t mean to bring up something that personal.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it, Hex.” Before she could rebute and babble on, I changed the topic away from the controversy. “That spell ended up going alright, the fallo imagine one. It still had some funky stuff going on, but it’ll get the job done.”
I could see her perk right up in the new light as we exited from the forest cover. “See? You’ll be a master in no time at all, star student. Even illusion spells are no match for you.”
I chuckled at that, and the presence of that warm evening sun melted away the tension. Even through discussions like these, I could appreciate the team and the running. Practice was never dull, there was always a lively discussion or two going on during our normal runs. The running itself was soothing, allowing me to stamp out all the stresses of the day and focus on the empowerment of the sport. So many others considered it punishment, but I enjoyed it.
The run settled in then, because even Hex had some points where she went quiet. Sure, the struggle and slugging of practice became more noticeable, but calming the mind and easing the breathing was important for getting solid practice. There was also the impeccable scenery, which could distract anypony with its shining leaves and hypnotic colors. Because of these, time didn’t slow down; it kept its pace from the conversations earlier. After only minutes, we could see the wide white walls of Canterlot jutting out from the mountainside.
Although my head was still a bit jostled from the lack of sleep, my muscles felt better. Seeing the walls, I grew an urge to do something which I hadn’t in a while. Something which we hadn’t done a proper workout for in a couple moons.
We dipped as the rolling hills hid our destination. I nudged Hex slightly with my rump. “Hey,” I said with a nod. “Run-out after the hill? It’s about a four-hundred.”
She guffawed. “You’re on.”
When I ran, the ‘pains’ weren’t like the cut of a slipped knife or a leg slammed against a wall. They were internal. The ‘fire’ of pain was more like sunlight heating the innards of your leg muscles, but the muscles weren’t used to feeling that way. The ‘pins and needles’ in my chest felt more like the round ends of pins poking in several spots as my chest realized that pins did not belong there. The pain is an uneasiness, an uncomfortability, and an urgency to remove those stimuli.
The runners who could become one with their body would recognize that pain, get motivated by it, and dismiss it. That allowed them to keep moving. Speeding up was all about getting used to the pain it caused and running with it. Slowing down meant that the runner wasn’t drawing upon the energy they didn’t realize they had. I tried to explain this all to Hex before, but she spent too much time in her head and not enough time in her body.
As the hill leveled and Canterlot became a mirror for the sun, we took off. I kept pace with her, shoving all thoughts I had to the corners of my mind. I checked my breathing, quickening it but not overwhelming myself. I found my legs rotating smoothly, but I had to focus to get my hooves off the ground quickly.
I refocused on my vision. Halfway done, and I hadn’t slowed yet. Hex’s hoofsteps faded back in my ears before returning to my side, but I never turned my head. The double-thump rhythm returned my focus to my legs. They were screaming at me with discomfort, but I tried to repress it just a bit longer. I sped up.
I hit the final stretch, and I could see the coach’s jacket under the archway. Hex, breathing heavily, was a little ways behind me now. I blanked everything out and honed in on the hole in the walls. Each string of muscle in my body was taut as my diaphragm started letting sounds out of my open mouth while exhaling. My head pounded with increasing vibrations after all the exertion in my veins.
I slowed down.
Hex gained on me, but not before I crossed over the jacket on the cobble path. I felt my limbs flailing and falling to jello as I came down heavy on every step. Hex came over to me after she slowed down as well, but before she could even put up some banter, I had a hoof to my head.
“You okay, Dawn?” Coach Gallop asked. He came slowly towards me, and the rest of the team trudged in behind him. “You, uhh, well, you look like you’re in pain.”
I waved them off. “I’m fine, really.” I looked up, able to focus again. They gave me the same look Hex gave me on the run. “I think I’m just dehydrated, and that’s on me.”
I walked over to my saddlebags, and a small jar with lukewarm water wiggled out from underneath the books. I sat off to the side in the grass, taking small sips as I waited for the rest of the team to gather around.
Patience, however, was not my strong suit. I was already getting behind for the night’s work. For me to not take out a scroll as well to get a head start on readings took all the willpower remaining within me after that hard finish. It was the Coach’s orders, and he benched me once already for doing it.
Finally, we started stretching. Hex animated the exemplary motions in the center, leading as always. At this point in the season, we all knew exactly what the routine was and as long as Hex counted in her head, the team could chat as they pleased. I listened, chiming in if something particular came my way. Sure, I’d talk about that new pop artist which I’d totally heard of before Two Step just mentioned them. It was short, efficient, and effective, and always marked the end of a good practice if ponies were talking.
As I geared the bags onto my back, Hex came over to me by the edge of the walls. “I’m thinking of grabbing a coffee or something to ease me into the week. You wanna join?” She looked towards my saddlebags. “If you can, of course.”
I bit my cheek when I looked back towards my overflowing notebooks. The night, as I had planned it, consisted of homework in three classes, time for researching the anomalies, and brainstorming for another research writeup. “Princess Twilight doesn’t go easy on me, Hex. I was thinking of just showering and getting to work. I’ve got these writeups which never stop coming, so I need a fresh idea every other week.” I dared to look towards her again.
She plastered a soft smile onto her weary face. “Get some rest tonight if you can. It helps keep the fluids in. I remember the one time I edged you out at practice, and I refuse to see you beating yourself up for it again. For all of our sakes, take care of yourself, friend.”
I had already stepped onto the cobble when I said, “Have a good night, Hex.”
She turned right around and started shouting at the newbie, something along the lines of ‘listen well to the Princess’, but I was too far away to make out more than stray words.
I became one of the many ponies in the cobbled streets. Brisk paces and wandering heads tuned one another out, but my mind wasn’t basking in the white, spiraling towers and golden domes of Canterlot. I spent my walk focused on my schedule for the night, preparing the plans of my workload and regretting how short I needed to cut my shower. Although I could hear the Coach and Hex deep within my ears, I planned on bringing a pillow to the library. The city was restless, and over the years I inherited that tireless nature.
Already, I felt the day slipping away. The library held the physical resources I needed, but short sessions never yielded the results I wanted. I was bound to make progress on the anomaly research, if I could pack time into my day like I could pack a suitcase.
I stopped at the white door tucked neatly behind a staircase, listening to the whisked laughter down the street where Joe would take in customers for the rest of the night. The breeze chewed through my coat once more, so I cleared my head and let my work take me over.
I told Princess Flurry Heart that we would understand this thing, but after a whole night of searching for anything, this endeavor had felt wasted.
Breaking out of my working mentality, my mind could freely take stock of the horrible posture I had been enduring for the past however long as well as my completely numb rump. I got up from the cushioned booth seating, stretching out and trying to recirculate the activity of fluids and airflow. I decided to take a walk amongst the bookshelves, browsing the names and titles and hopefully processing everything I took in from the shelf’s worth of pages I had already sifted through tonight.
My head cried out at the thought of it, and remembering the practice from today, my instincts brought the plastic bottle I had brought to my lips for its final few sips. The walk would be a good way to empty and refill the bottle as well.
The darkness of the blue shelves washed over me as I absently scanned the tomes, thinking back to the words Hex had said during the run. Common sense is a hard thing to come by, sure, but I had spent the past few hours looking over these magical incidents and related studies. The library here thankfully also kept newspapers and some interesting historical record books, which I didn’t think I would need when I first stepped in here as the sun began to set. The surfing of pages was a journey even I couldn’t predict.
I started with thinking about the most recent incident, the explosion at the school. A spell went wrong. The newspapers had worked hard to inform the nation of it the day after, and they even got Mr. Sprout in a brief interview. He mentioned that nothing was out of the ordinary, nothing indicated that the spell went wrong on his end. This got me thinking about what Princess Flurry Heart said, that there was something wrong with the magic, not the spells. So to cover my bases, I decided to read some literature on spell failure rates, as well as information on the ethereal magic which permeates Equestria.
Spells failing is attributed to user error. In the studies I read, over thousands of trials by a hundred unicorns, if the spell malfunctioned, then user error was deduced to be the result every single time. Now, this study was nearly ten years old, so things could change over that time, but Hex’s claim that magic has unpredictability has been meta-analyzed to support the opposing claim.
The reports of magical levels, referred to as the momenta, had some very up-to-date data. For around the past two decades, there had been miniscule increases each year in nearly every region recording the data. There was nothing significant popping out of the data, but the trend was fascinating. Because of this, nothing but speculation was put forth on the matter in research journals. Some pointed to the return of Nightmare Moon as the inciting point of the increase.
For thoroughness, I checked out the historical record books which detailed the past fifty years of existence in Equestria. There was practically radio silence, in terms of magical events, until Rainbow Dash’s first sonic rainboom. Then again, nothing of note until that fateful Summer Sun Celebration. I made a time graph with some points over time, and the years after just opened the floodgates of magical tsunamis. It wasn’t until Princess Twilight Sparkle took the throne that notable events slowed down. Three years prior was when they started speeding up again. The magic readings, however, didn’t bend at those important milestones.
The water refilling station greeted me with a metallic clang as I placed my bottle under its spout. The bottle shuttered under the water’s weight, crinkling and splashing out what it could manage before it was overpowered by the stream. This bottle had survived multiple refills, and I wondered at what point getting a new bottle would be a good idea.
Spinning away from the water fountain, I decided to stroll into the fiction section. Like my new route returning to the booth, I had taken a different approach when considering what White Noise and those protesters had told me. A library held many books, but detailed information on the budget of the Equestrian government and its distribution is not exactly printed on the covers. Disproving their claims of greed took a little while. After several boring economic journals left me with nothing, I found a distribution of the Equestrian budget this past year.
Research made up less than five percent of the total budget. As a future researcher, this one stung a little bit, and I was ready to ask Princess Twilight about it. Everything seemed in place, however, so I had no motivation to continue debunking embezzlement, even if the claim in the first place was faulty. Dead end.
I went back to the historical records to see if there was any research or discussion about magical incidents in the past three years, but no researcher had looked through the archives in the past two. Dead end.
Nopony even seemed to care that the incredible precision of magic was suddenly being upended. The only commentaries on the matters came within days of the incidents, and even then they only fueled the protest groups or subdued the curiosity of those loyal to the crown. I spent an entire night’s research on a wild goose chase. Dead end.
Four stacks of disheveled books rose to the height of the table I had used for the night. Anypony would find it impressive if anypony else were here. The guards had already left and locked up the place, and I made them aware that I was making the library my space for the night. I had packed with me a meal of donuts which I downed in an hour and cursed myself for doing so later when the sugar crash ended. Many
Some of my research had not been closed up and stacked away. I shifted and sorted all the ones I had read to the floor beside it, but soon my own hornwriting had appeared Seeing it resurface was unexpected since I had already done my homework for the evening. I dove into the readings quickly, so I hadn’t sealed up the scrolls for Ms. Scribble and stowed them. A few flashes of my horn handled it as my brain went full autopilot, not unlike how I had been reading most of the evening. When my mind was filled with complaints, it was the only way to keep going. Once everything was finished, my homework was replaced by my pillow.
I hadn’t come up with ideas for my next writeup like I had hoped, but Wednesday night had yet to fail me for coming up with last minute brainstorming.
Another night within the library’s unreasonably comfortable booth awaited me. Content with the work I had done, I slid into the wide cushions head on. Sure, it was a goose chase, but it was necessary. Like schoolwork. It mattered to Flurry Heart and it mattered to me, so I waded in murky waters in search of that gold. I expected nothing less from myself; my work-ethic defined me because otherwise my goals were pointless.
The ponies I had been taught about weren’t remembered for being mundane or mediocre. Scientists pushed their talents with math and logic to their limits, and wizards became one with their innate abilities. These great members of our past would live on in the minds of the present because they worked hard and contributed to Equestria. For as long as I could remember, I was the filly with potential to become one of those great ponies. Ever since, it was an unwritten, unspoken, and unwavering goal for which everypony knew I strived.
Perhaps one day, like the Mare in the Moon beckoning me from beyond this window, I too could have been the name on a page in a classroom of fillies, calling to them from somewhere unreachable. That day was not achieved by taking time to enjoy a coffee nor sleeping in late. Instead, it was achieved by spending nights reading in the library or working on spells. And maybe, just maybe, figuring out what caused that anomaly of my past would be important enough to contribute to not only the enjoyment of today but the inspiration of tomorrow. In my eyes, there was no other option.
So, I worked until my eyes closed next to a wall of books stacked as high as the table next to it within an empty library. I was okay with that.
An amplified yet muffled stallion voice bounced each which way off the hanging crystal daggers above me, causing a surround sound that echoed and permeated the ponies within the waiting area.
“Next up, Luster Dawn and Rising Loaf. Please be in the arena in three minutes.”
I caught sight of Fleety’s megaphone popping up above the spikey sea of a couple dozen unicorn horns, dimmed by the artificial red and blue lighting in the caves. My post at the fractal, reflective wall would have to be guarded by the stash of granola bars in my bag. I took one last sip of water and slammed the empty plastic onto the foldout table, jostling some of my scrolls with it. The cushion beneath me inhaled as I took my weight off of it. Ponies cluttered the tube-like cavern, since this vein was no wider than Canterlot street and no taller than a school hallway. Finding a way through them would be a process.
I wanted to get in a quick banter with Fleety, but before I could reach the opening to the main artery, the vermillion band on his leg glowed. The light from his horn enveloped him and popped, ending his teleportation spell. He was the one in charge of this shindig, so he was always ferrying people back and forth from his house way above. It was a clever method to avoid detection while we utilized these abandoned mines as our playground, as well as ensuring we weren’t breaking any sound ordinance. Still, my old running captain was one of the only ponies down here who wasn’t engrossed in their own reading or practice of spells, and he always enjoyed our conversations. Postponing my desires, I stepped out into the large corridor.
Pale blue rock laid beneath me, smoothed and sanded from years of miners traversing it. The flat floor extended out to a series of rocky walls and columns which encased the arena, arching up in a semicircle overhead. The crystalline formations unified into serrated edges and the occasional small stalactite hanging from the sides and above, reflecting the spotlights of red and blue from magically imbued crystal lamps standing at each end of the chalk which marked the arena. The main path bended and extended far beyond the chalked boundaries, but in this stretch of fifty meters the chipped remains of rocks were mostly removed from the ground, creating the perfect area for some magical showdowns.
“Feel like going easy on me this week, Luster?” Rising Loaf meandered up next to me, waiting at the white boundary.
I gave a quick side glance to his half-open eyes. “It’s always better to work for the things you want, Loaf, unless you aren’t up to the challenge.” I let the confidence seep out with a giggle, feeling better about my casting than I had in weeks. The judges, including Fleety, were all getting ready at their spot in the wall, preparing their protection spells in case anything went awry. It wouldn’t be long before I could get rid of this moldy bread beside me.
His bulging stomach gave a hearty chuckle before replying, “You really could do to take a load off, Luster. All work and no play — sounds like torture to me.”
“If by ‘torture’ you mean ‘work ethic’, then I guess that’s what separates the top student from the second best.”
For someone who was so laid-back, Rising Loaf had pride enough to start arguments over every detail, some of which I was unfortunate enough to entertain before getting to know the entitled stallion. I could tell he was rustled, but he had no time to let off his steam before that megaphone rang out again.
“Casters, to your positions.” We began our trek to the central circle of the two adjacent white boxes marked out on the ground. While we did, Fleety carried on with the formalities. “Luster, you are the higher seed. What’s the call for the coin flip?”
“Heads!” My heart elevated its pace in order to shout out, and it stayed that way as I found my spot and turned towards my opposition. He levitated back his loose, gray mane out of his face, still giving that same, careless stare.
“The coin toss goes to Luster. Beam first or barrier first?”
I could go for the usual, my stonewall barrier was notoriously immovable, even if I had to expel so much energy first. The Loaf in front of me, however, was not using the optimal barrier spells, and he knew it. I decided to press my mental advantage early. “I’ll beam first, Fleety.”
I tried to tune him out and slow my breathing. “The round will start when I finish my countdown, please do not cast spells early or you will be penalized. You wll have thirty seconds in each half of the round, one half for performing barrier spells and one for performing beam spells. If a pony is pushed out of their side of the arena, the white line behind you, that pony will lose the round. If not, we’ll measure the distance each pony was pushed.”
It was time to get to work. My heart was still beating, but as I closed my eyes I could feel my mind ebbing and flowing in time with my lungs. I was ready to delve into the flow state, clearing away the last remaining deadlines and worries in my mind. Just like I practiced, my mind probed away at my forehead as the magic passed into my system. I exhaled the newfound heat with an open mouth, while also opening my eyes to focus on where I needed to unleash this restless energy coursing around the spirals of my horn.
I didn’t even hear the countdown, I only saw the glare of purple lights off of Loaf’s barrier before I uttered my spell.
“Oppugno vi.”
A large bass drum paled in comparison to the low boom that erupted from my horn. I saw the reflection of the sunbeam headed towards the barrier before I had to close my eyes. I felt the flow of magic hit resistance as the two spells collided, a feeling similar to a hoof pressed up against my forehead. Yet, during that first contact, the hoof slipped just slightly, and I knew I could win this outright. Twenty meters might seem like a lot, but as long as I could figure out how to pry off that hoofhold, the beam would keep the pony behind it sliding. It’s all momentum.
Rising Loaf had a low center of mass from his party-fed diet, and I could leverage this. Literally, leverage is how I could topple him. Fighting the pushback, I lowered my head and aimed towards the bottom of the shield. A slip, briefly, gave me the instability I needed to catch him. Leg joints ignited as I forced the ether through me at a faster pace.
That last push was just enough to free the floodgates of my effort. My opposition rocked back every so slightly, but it destabilized his grounded nature and sent him tumbling, barrier along with him, until he hit the white chalk and the spells were cutoff. My laser spewed out along the impassible, invisible wall, until I snapped my head back and severed the spell. With my head high, I looked at the sloth, miniscule all the way over there, in his usual position on the ground, hooves in the air.
“That’s new, Luster Dawn,” he called out with a shaky voice crack. “Caught me off guard with that trick.”
I could hear the murmurs of those looking on from the waiting area, awestruck from the way that spell could be felt by the audience – to the point of potential danger. Fleety shared a giggle with the other judges, amused to see a round end with that tumbleweed in the wind, but not surprised by the school’s top student. My opponent laid there, pondering his plan for the next round and grimacing. I stood atop it all, the last pony within these white squares, the lone ruler of these crystal caves.
“Luster!” A comforting voice called after me as I entered the waiting area. Fleety probably had my winnings from the night as well as some gossip he wanted to chat about, judging from his excitement.
“Fleety! I meant to catch you earlier, but you ran off. How’s the business been?”
I caught his smile as he chuckled. “It’s never dull at the company, but I can’t chat much tonight, there’s someone who was looking for you just before the round started, it sounded urgent.” He bobbed his short mane in the direction of a table near the front of the area, completely deserted except for one pony with no saddlebags. “Winter Storm was her name I think, and she called you Dawn. Very shy mare, couldn’t get much else out of her.”
Her opal eyes and newly growing smile assured me that Flurry Heart had found her way here. Her form was a pure white unicorn mare, not too different from the off-pink which defined her. The shape was the same as mine, just shorter than a fully grown mare with a short, smoothed snout. Had she not been pointed out to me, I would’ve guessed that she was one of the students, and I thought that was exactly how she wanted it.
“Yeah, I know her, and she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t have something important.” I turned to face Fleety, and his solid, cyan form towered over me. “Thanks again for hosting these. Not sure what I’d do for cash here in this big city.”
His usually agreeable face did not agree with that particular sentiment. “Even if you didn’t win these, you know I’d support you Luster. Teammates help teammates, and that’s what you’ve been since day one. I couldn’t let you run off on your own again.”
“Quick Flee, please, we’ve been over this a hundred times at least.” I paused. The wrinkles in his face told me he still hadn’t made it through the guilt. I softened my voice and soothed, “It’s not your fault. You were an amazing captain for two long years. You taught me to push my limits and so much more.”
His aura sent the bit pouch in a high arch above me. “I’m glad that you think that way, Dawn, but careless mistakes could end with consequences far worse than what ended up happening that day. Every time I see you it reminds me of when I realized that.” He glanced behind me. “I know you don’t like wasting time, so I won’t take up anymore. Don’t forget, you’re on cleanup this week and food next week.”
I groaned, maybe a bit too loud, but it got a good laugh out of Fleety. “Haha, have a good night, Fleety.” We waved, and I turned around to catch a look that was much too curious for my liking.
“Who?” asked Flurry, who witnessed that breathtaking production live.
“Whaddaya mean ‘who?’” I retorted, walking past the row of ponies who were leaving. “He’s my old running captain.”
“No, no,” she shyly smiled, slouching her form against the jewels of the cave. The short, sky blue curls of her mane spread over her turned face. “Just, nevermind. That was an incredible performance out there, Dawn.”
Once again, she was flattering me. I decided to keep an eye on her as I walked past her table. “I gotta start cleaning up, so let’s walk and talk, but thank you. That practice session last week ended up paying off. I don’t think anypony at the school will question my place as top student after that.”
“Wait,” she said, “the ponies here are all from Auntie’s school?”
I lofted the table into the pile at the end of the tunnel as I nodded to the other unicorn helping teleport these back to Fleety’s house. “Yep, and it’s pretty exclusive as well. Only ponies who are in can invite others, and they have to be enrolled in the school. Other than that, it’s exactly as it looks – competing to see who is the best wizard.”
“I can’t imagine the amount of time you spent in order to perform all those spells in mere seconds. I do remember seeing a speed spell and a healing spell on your list last week, and they won you the lightning round. They stuck out to me as spells I myself had trouble with.” When a calm voice like hers trailed off, it was hard to hear over the twangs of metallic table legs. The shadows on her face, outlined by the purples of the caves beneath the castle, were all I needed to see.
“You had trouble controlling your spells at the gym as well. This has been an ongoing thing?”
A slight nod. “Yes. Although I get training from Auntie and her friends, I still haven’t been able to perform spells consistently, to perform spells like you have tonight. The beauty of your spells is a masterpiece to behold, so entwined with the evocations of magical creation.” Her exhale echoed in the now empty room as I retrieved a trash bag. “Although, this spell is something I learned just this week in preparation for our meeting.” She craned her neck, hoping to examine each inch of her deceptive form.
“Well hey, that’s pretty solid. Disguise spells are hard to come by and not easy to master. Just last week I was trying to understand some illusion spell and didn’t quite pin it down.” I expected to look up from my assortment of plastic wrappers to see Flurry’s eyes fueled with ambition.
Instead, I saw her looking deep into the tunnel, far beyond the smooth rock ground. The reflective sheers of quartz and amethyst could only carry the light so far, but still her eyes searched behind them. The bullseye where the blackness covered the shining contents within the cave, that’s where she honed in. Those once hopeful opal eyes longed for the mysterious rocks behind the curtains of shadows. Her heart was discontent with anything the lights beamed forth to her awareness; none of the shining jewels could quell that unhappiness.
“Thanks, Dawn,” she said while searching for the confidence in her statement. “I just need to push past it.”
Again, a lesson from Twilight rang out in my mind. If I helped others, they would help me. “I mean if you ever need any help, I suspect we’ll be spending time together researching things, so you could always bring it up then. Like, during a break or something just ask.”
She paused, gripping the floor beneath her in order to rip her eyes from that listless abyss. She watched me as I tied up the bag and monitored the perimeter for any cunning wrappers which escaped my mighty horn’s grasp. I heard a small chuckle before the breathless reply and quick topic change. “I’m not sure if Auntie wants me getting another tutor, but I appreciate the offer. Let’s talk about the research, though, because I think I found something.”
“Really?” I clamored. Our energies aligned in that moment, but the echoes reminded me that we probably weren’t alone.“Wait, don’t tell me yet. Let’s get outside.”
I ushered her over to the entrance area, a tunnel on the same side of the arena as the waiting area, so that I could teleport us both up. We popped into Fleety’s home, and he thanked me for the help. He laughed as he waved us off. I checked to see if any of the other ponies from the school were around, but among the few ponies still walking around this late, I could recognize none of them in the yellow lines that hung from the open windows.
I began with a whisper. “Sorry, I’ve just been talking to some other unicorns and they wouldn’t have the most objective perspective on this research. I’m sure you heard about the protest at the school.”
She affirmed. “It’s funny, I didn’t hear any ponies chatting about it at any point during the night. Has it all blown over that quickly?”
“I guess so, even the papers shifted to the next ‘big thing’ the morning after.” The protesting used up so much energy just for it to dissipate. A waste of resources, it’s why I never got involved. “Just petered out like most headlines, I would know. I decided to scope out the protest in hopes of a lead. Unfortunately, I came up short, so let’s hear what you found.”
“A name: Comet Tail. This pony authored a paper titled The Shifting Magical Foundation of Equestria.”
A changeling walked by us as we rounded a corner, so Flurry waited for him to pass. In that moment, I could see her focus. We were two rogue detectives with alter egos, finding the pieces to a grand mystery, patrolling the moonlit streets to avoid detection. I laughed at the play as my mind performed it, but instead of leaving it there like usual, I sunk into my role. The backdrop blended the warm orange lights together with the muted gold of the Canterlot domes, and we were at the center of it all.
She leaned in close again to continue. “The paper could not be located anywhere in the library, it was only mentioned in an outdated catalogue from about fifteen years ago.”
Mentally, I scrolled through the names I had picked out in the Canterlot Library. I would’ve taken notice of a scroll like that in my years researching this topic. “I doubt that it’s in the Canterlot Library, but I could ask about the Archives. Are you sure this paper is connected to magical fluctuations?”
“The title seemed pretty convincing, and I couldn’t find any other works by that author. It’s like the pony disappeared, after only writing one piece about a topic that both libraries have nothing about? I can’t come up with another conclusion.” That astute voice could convince a bear to stop eating for a week. “This is a hunch, Dawn, but it’s a hunch I’d bet on, even as an heir to the Empire.”
She convinced me. “I’ll take it and run with it, seeing as we have no other leads. This could be the breakthrough.” Finally, she wore the smiling face of a successful pony, the accomplishment and fulfillment of a job well-done. “I usually have something to propose to Twilight for research write-ups, but perhaps I could convince her to help me find and analyze this specific paper. It’s a win-win.”
Somehow, Flurry made progress. Whether it was dumb luck or not, she put in the time to find a lead. I couldn’t help but smile back. We were on our way, the first step on the staircase to our goals underhoof, thanks to her work. Twilight awaited at the top, the pony who would solidify my career and allow Flurry some breathing room. For the moment, progress was exactly what we needed.
“Let’s get donuts, on me.” She raised an eyebrow in contention, but never uttered a rejection. Must’ve been a princess thing.
We finally found the corner where Donut Joe was closing up for the evening, shooing out the last customer. “Curse the…!”I proclaimed, beginning my walk through the outdoor tables.
Before I could approach Joe, Flurry said, “Ahh, no worries. No need to go making a fuss.” I pursed my lips, debating whether or not defying the princess would result in jail time.
I didn’t need to find out the hard way. “I am hungry, honestly,” I told her. “Granola bars can only sustain a girl for so long.”
“Do you have anything we could make back at your place?”
We began walking until I took a moment to scoff. “What do you mean by ‘make’ exactly?” My fridge had a tendency to contain very few ingredients.
A quick hoof stifled her giggling. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how to cook. After this long at a boarding school, you really haven’t made any meals yourself?”
“Breakfast is easy, lunch at school, and I usually ate out or just had refrigerator meals for dinner.” A smiling jaw hung below its closed resting place. “If that shocks you, I don’t think you should come inside.” I stopped in front of the door, blocking her view.
It was her turn to scoff. “If I’m going to be spending time here, I might as well get used to it.”
The dusty corners glistened as I switched on a lamp. An inundated trash pail spilled plastic wrappers and cardboard boxes into the living space, which barely fit the two of us inside. Besides a picture or two, the barren walls gave way to the pillars of tomes and old assignments, making muted rainbows take over the once homely appearance. A singular brown recliner and green rug, both of which were on sale outside of a house as I passed through Canterlot one day, filled out the apartment’s space.
I grabbed a couple of hay sandwiches from the fridge and returned to see Flurry Heart -- wings and all. Her flowing mane hit the floor as I urged her to sit in the recliner. I took my place on the rug and began chowing down, but Flurry took small bites and swallowed like each piece would get stuck if she weren’t careful.
“This place could use some tuning up and some home-cooked meals, Dawn,” she said between mouthfuls. I nodded, closing my eyes to try and envision a cleaner apartment. “The Princess’s top student should have a comfortable place to study, as well as sufficient nourishment.”
I shrugged. This wasn’t a revelation. “What I have gets the job done.”
“Even for a couple dozen aspiring wizards? I love hay as much as the next pony, really, but this won’t cut it, Dawn.” I stared at the soggy, cold hay, which looked greener than this ancient carpet. “How about this: You help me with some spells, and next week I’ll show you how to bake some food for Wednesday. It’s a win-win, right?”
I smirked, seeing that fire return to Flurry’s eyes. Even through the reflections of this hideous apartment, this pony could see a blooming life here, and she wanted to take full advantage of it. I raised a hoof towards her. “You’ve got yourself a deal,” I declared and sealed with a shake.
On cue, a bright blue light shone through the purple saddlebags near Flurry Heart which she dug out in seconds. The rectangular sky-blue emerald sat between Flurry’s two hooves, but on the white ceiling above I could see formations of black lingering where no shadows resided.
Her stoic mask replaced her face once more. “I’m sorry to be going so soon, but I am needed by my parents. They decided to do an impromptu game night, which I really shouldn’t miss.”
I leaped up to my legs to witness this mysterious jewel for myself. A message in clear Ponish was displayed in black on the surface of the crystal, indicating exactly what Flurry had just relayed. “Since when can crystals show messages like this?”
She replied calmly. “It’s a prototype, entrusted to my family by Twilight herself. It’s the same as the magic of linking journals, just not as heavy. My parents decided it would be best for me to have, to always carry it with me, so that I am never truly alone.” Her hooves began to cover the jewel as I felt her squeeze it even tighter.
“So, let’s figure out a plan quickly.” I started to pace underneath the arch separating my kitchen from the living space. “I have my meeting with Twilight on Friday, so I could send you a letter after that is done. Once we figure out where this paper should be, we can convene there and look together on a night you’re not busy.”
“I do hope your meeting with Auntie goes well.” She carefully sifted through her saddlebags, ensuring that her travel would not harm anything in it. “I look forward to hearing from you.”
At Flurry’s instruction, I cast my barrier spell around her as she prepared to depart. Although this dingy place could use a demolition and remodel, she wanted to preserve it. I waved earnestly as she cast herself away with a muffled pop. Suddenly, the room was empty, and the only light came from a flickering lamp.
Alone I stood in this dull apartment of cobwebs and book pillars, ruler of it all.
The Guard in front of the Princess’s chambers remembered me.
She didn’t speak a word nor move a muscle, but that eyeing suspicion on her face filled in the equation. In fact, the stallion that went in to relay my arrival was also there at the marketplace last week. The two were cordial then, so I figured I could squeeze out some information with quick coaxing. I was on a timer.
While clearing my throat, I prepared my professionalism. “Officer, sorry again for all the trouble. I never got your name last week.”
She hurled a flurry of looks at my messy mane and lax pose. Again, she held her pose. I was already looking at one of the glass windows when she grated out, “My name is Rough House.” The statue stayed put, no outward emotions.
“Whatever happened to that vendor?”
A thrown question slowed down time, dangling in the air above that motionless figure, begging for a nod or a hoof movement. As the heavy sunbeams crawled across the room, I waited for an opening door or some sign of change. The vast hallway perpetuated the stillness and stiffness of the air, and this air permeated every carpet, flower, pillar, and the two ponies within. Within me, the sludge of that viscous air threatened to overtake my bloodstream and mental presence. I rolled my hoof back and forth along the pristine, stainless marble because it seemed to stimulate the environment around me just enough to jostle the gears of time. A slow shadow meandered across the windows, dousing the tension of the pressing sunlight.
Finally, my ears perked. “I can’t tell you anything about charged creatures.” The Guard was full of loopholes like that, but to know that the pony who called the Guard himself was the one in trouble, that fact confused me.
Before my musings could continue, the unreasonably tall door in front of me opened. “The Princess is ready for you, Luster Dawn.”
“Thanks, officer.” The stallion returned to his post at the door frame.
I peered through the open door while a round of apprehension clutched at my innards. I could barely make out the blurry forms in the room. Breathing deeply, I attempted to stabilize my everything. I would need a solid base in order to perform the mental acrobatics of a confusing lesson, not to mention asking about an author that fell off the face of Equestria. I looked towards Rough House briefly — still steadfast, unaffected by the outside world, completely grounded in her values and discipline. She shared it with me, even though she didn’t know it.
I looked up towards Princess Twilight as I made a half-hastened trot towards her dais. Sunlight streamed through the stained glass which retold her past trials. Two streams trickled beside me, persistently present, like the magical signature my horn picked up incessantly. The red carpet swelled above me, and cresting it was Equestria’s ruler. Her regal purples, both within her mane and coat, sparkled in the evening light. Even with all this distance, her compressed form towered above me, and she could easily unleash a rainbow of potential energies with flared wings and ignited horn. Yet, upon her face she wore a stoic, analytic stare that anypony would approach with their most pressing concern.
Reaching my place at the foot of the throne, I bowed and addressed, “Your Majesty.”
I could feel her roll her eyes at this point. “Luster, it’s good to see you.” Her motherly voice rang out in the empty throne room, and her stoicism relaxed into content. “Your report last week was precise and succinct. Well done as usual. I am especially impressed with how you implemented history and magic together in your friendship lesson. I’m glad to hear that those classes served you well.”
“The school’s curriculum is dense, Princess Twilight. Most of those lessons will yield great utility sooner or later.” She was used to hearing precursory flattery from her political ventures, I was sure, but those statements weren’t completely fabricated. Buttering up this conversation was an unfortunate necessity. “I’m happy to impress you with my work, it’s an honor. I hope to do so again this week, but I may need some help.”
Her wings and a singular eyebrow nearly left Twilight’s body. “My help?”
I could nearly taste the fresh water of the streams from a sharp nasal inhale. “Yes,” I answered, ready to recite the script I had rehearsed. “In my perusing of some different literature, I began gravitating towards topics of ambient magic and how it worked. I discovered a potential paper in a dated catalog that seemed to be essential to the discussion, and it would be the focus of my next report. The title was The Shifting Magical Foundation of Equestria.”
The echoes of that title bounced around the hung tapestries as I waited for any hint of recognition. “Perhaps you might know the author, Comet Tail.”
The Princess needed to mask her facial reactions as best she could, but I spotted that slight bulging of her eyes and tension in her cheek. “That name, it is familiar.” A weight shift was the first movement that Princess Twilight made during this session, besides the flowing of her hair. “How dated was the catalog you referenced?”
“It was dated fifteen years ago, Princess.” Sources tended to lose relevance over time, so I thought that was her consideration for the paper. Her concentration yielded a different conversation, however.
With dismay, she told me, “Then, it would not be in the Archives, I’m afraid.” Her eyes darted from the windows to the walls, as if overwhelmed by the memories of her past, just as my eyes once did. No, those fleeting eyes were focused on the mind’s visions. She was scheming.
“Luster,” she stated, “I have a hunch about where you may find the study you’re looking for. I know this time of year is busy for you, as it is for me, and the only way to uncover the whereabouts of this paper is one that will take time — potentially wasted time. I know from past conversations that you would not normally take that risk.”
The Princess could pinpoint the exact moment where she would dumbfound me with a simple sentence. Just like that, she dropped the scroll of my life to the floor and spelled it out in front of me. Sometimes, she learned things about me that I would never have picked up on. (I’d need to learn that skill from her sometime, it seemed to come in handy for her.) Because of her dissection, an important decision split and scattered within my mind, so I used one of my meeting fallbacks to gain insight and time in order to make that decision. “What do you think, Princess Twilight?”
She rose up from her seat with one quick motion, batting the wind into my mane and descending to the floor. In a much quieter voice, she said, “This is not my decision, but the fact that you are even debating this shows a shift in your priorities, my student.” She parked her haunches on the carpet. I matched her.
School responsibilities and potential award-winning research didn’t exactly weigh up in my mind. “You’re right. I’m internally invested in these findings, much more than my general schoolwork. It could not only help my spellcasting, but also it could be some of my finest work yet.” I put down my wandering hoof, putting a stop to mere gesturing. “I’ll take that risk, Princess.”
“Very well.” With a head lean and a bright horn, she found the scrolls and quill she kept behind her throne. “I’m making a note to send to the pony who will help you find this paper. Her name is Moondancer, the librarian in the School of Friendship.”
Before I could even utter a question, she broke into my line of thought. “You must find the paper yourself, Luster. And, yes, that would be in Ponyville.”
“I’m prepared to do the work, Princess.” When she signed and rolled up the scroll, she tossed it towards me, revealing that resting smile again. “You seem to have the logistics already worked out.”
She covered her chuckling snout before spewing out a lengthy series of instructions. If anywhere, the paper was either in the two Ponyville libraries or in the Time Tower here in Canterlot, but the only key to the tower was kept by Moondancer when she left for Ponyville. Because school was out for the weekend, Twilight suggested flying out after our meetings, but I decided to do so in the morning after my run. The Mayor in Ponyville as well as the Headmare of the Friendship School saw to it that I was housed in the castle during my stay under their hospitality.
There was also copious encouragement for me to visit the school and explore Ponyville. Already, piles of stories about the town had been shared with me. The journal she published was required reading in some of my classes, and that first entry was riddled with squandered apprehension from the student of a princess. It would’ve been harder to be any more obvious.
Apprehensive thoughts never came, however. Ponyville did seem like a quaint, abundant, and unfamiliar place, so learning was bound to come my way – learning without the adrenaline of a deadline or the pressure of a grade. To me, it seemed like an overall positive thing, and it had the potential to restore my energy. Although the friendship propaganda had been branded into everypony’s mind in that place at that point, it didn’t dissuade me. Instead, I wondered about writing my own journal in a tree-library surrounded by others.
A checklist swirling down to my hooves paused my thoughts. “And finally, I will give notice to your teachers that any assignments due Monday are extended.” The lines of muscle in my neck were swelling as I gave one last nod. “That should cover all of your concerns, but if there is anything else I can do for you, let me know.”
Twilight retreated her focus from our conversation, and I took the time to readjust my posture. She followed the filtered light, sparkling the dust as it flowed along the air. The low sun notified her of the time. “Come, let’s take a walk to the towers of the castle. Along the way, we can do our usual activity.”
Ethereal blobs of hair magic tickled my sides as I turned to follow Twilight’s long strides. Catching up to her, I noticed the similarities to the start of my journey through Canterlot last week. Passing by Rough House, I remembered the vendor and his contraband wares. The protesters and their ‘truth’ rang out in the vast hall of my mind. “Princess Twilight, I’d like to go first this week.”
She paused before the door to the castle hallway, allowing me to open it and lead. “Ask away, my faithful student.”
“Well.” I swallowed, absently opening the door and avoiding her motherly gaze. “I’m sure you know about the protest that occurred at the school last week. I was there.” Admitting that made my lungs squeeze. “A-a friend took me there, it was the first I’d heard of such a group. So, I took the opportunity to learn their perspective on things. They talked about the danger of spellcasting, its unpredictability, and its unregulated use. Magic has become widespread, and ponies seem to be concerned for their own wellbeing.” I navigated this maze of a castle with hesitancy, looking back to my teacher constantly just to confirm my decisions.
The windows and tapestries and carpets all blended together. “You have studied magic far longer than myself, Princess Twilight. I have to know what you think, but be completely honest with me. I have my own experience to claim the contrary to what I assume is your answer. Is magic safe?”
My one question for the evening was not met with any trace of worry nor intrigue. The long shadows of the low sun hung across her long snout. The corridor was empty, save for some Guards, but the Princess waited for even those creatures to pass. Scanning around again, she slowed her pace to a shuffle before answering.
“Before I ruled, the study of magic was decentralized. Wizards were scattered across the land, reading findings for hours upon hours, only to maybe expand upon these works by sheer luck or incredible ingenuity. What they could accomplish, they would write down, adding to the massive piles. It was inconvenient at best and inaccessible at worst.
“The only times of true collaboration occurred either through chance friendships or the School of Magic, where Princess Celestia was able to gather the most knowledgeable minds as teachers in order to forge connections between the talented minds of the future. When I ascended the throne, I began expanding upon what Celestia built because I discovered the power of coordinating the study of magic under one roof. Building upon the foundations at the school, I instituted a peer-review system similar to what I saw in the human world. This coordination took a bit to get going, but through the teamwork of great minds, the innovation of magic has been booming. I preface my answer with that because of how it has shaped my view of magical study.
“Scientific endeavors always encounter potential dangers, either by producing technology that others can use for their own purposes or by delving into unknown areas and taking calculated risks. Under our review boards, anything deemed too dangerous to study has been denied. The progress of magic has produced improvements for everypony’s lives, like our medicinal potion production or the crystal technology that we’ve been trailblazing. Not only that, but refining older spells have increased their accuracy and reliability.
“Because of this, and because of the advancements in literature distribution, ponies everywhere are more involved with magic than ever. I am not worried about this, however, because while magic can be dangerous in the wrong hooves, that has always been the case, and Equestria has yet to fall to the hooves of another. Magic itself is safer than it ever has been, and will only grow safer under my rule. I know that the spell you never meant to cast scared you, Luster, but I assure you that anything like that has been avoided ever since.”
Princess Twilight gave her lungs and my brain some time to breathe, to process. I knew that she was right before I even asked the question, but some reassurance never hurts. I hadn’t realized how recent these scientific developments were, and it was interesting the route she took to establish the scientific conglomerate as a credible source. It solidified my faith in the system. It solidified my faith in her.
That wouldn’t stop my research with Flurry Heart, however.
As we rounded the last turn towards the Princess Quarters, she asked me her question for the evening. “Luster, you have done consistent work thus far as my protégé. I hope that I express my gratitude towards you often. This mentorship, however, will not last forever.”
If the wind weren’t completely knocked out of me, I would’ve broken our only rule and interrupted her. Before I could pick up the pieces, she continued. “You have accelerated your schedule to finish this curriculum far earlier than your peers. Sooner than you might think, there will be nothing left that we at the school could teach you.
“I do not expect you to have a plan. In fact, I suspect that any plan you make will be twisted by circumstance. You know this, and it has always been your style to take things as they come. Yet, the passionate drive within you must be able to find a goal, a benchmark, a point to consider as an achievement. Otherwise, you may not be able to appreciate all that you have done. There’s so much time left to spend living your life. Where do you see yourself in ten years, Luster?”
“I’ll be doing research, Princess!” We stopped at the tower’s entrance. “Perhaps I could even be a teacher here at the school. After all, I know these curricula like the back of my hoof, and you have complimented my presentations before. I had also hoped I could still work with you…”
I noticed the longing look in Princess Twilight’s large, glassy eyes. “I must be off, Luster, but I think you missed my point. There’s much more to your future than simply your occupation. Where will you live? What research will you be doing? What hobbies will you have? Who will you spend your time with?”
Leveling with me, she held her gaze so I didn’t wind up distracted by all the pounding thoughts. For a moment, I saw the student, Twilight Sparkle. “What is your heart telling you? Please, consider this question while you are in Ponyville.”
She pulled me in quickly and firmly with two forelegs encasing me. “Oh! Y-yes Princess Twilight.” The embrace was quickly returned, and the warmth shared between us was not just a polite parting. She saw the anxiousness in my eyes when she began this topic. Yet, this was for her as well. Reality reared its ugly head during our discussion, and although she may have rehearsed this, the impact was only just hitting her. This hug was comfort, a comfort which the both of us desperately needed in this rapidly changing world.
This hug was my first in a long time.
“Best of luck in your research.” She nuzzled me as she pulled away and squared up with the door. “I eagerly await your report.”
I sat down, drained from today’s meetings. From my left, a box of tissues was presented by a teal foreleg. “You need one?” Rough House asked.
“No, I think I’ll be okay,” I said with a dismissing hoof. “Thank you.”
The Guardsmare simply nodded, opened the door to the tower, and left me to wonder what I would do without Princess Twilight’s guidance.
Lime green saddlebags slumped patiently against my chipped, grayed door frame. Usually, I packed them in the mornings before school. My nightly routine started and ended with my bed spread. The stars and the moon were only part of my momentary lapses from work. This time, however, the still night air hung around me, inviting me to take in the atmosphere. Explorers found similar scenes every day, but the precursory feeling that sight gave me was something I only experienced once before. Memories of when I left for the School of Magic came flooding in after being pushed to the side for so long.
My father stuffed those same bags as if they were made of rubber. He carried them with a delicate hoof past the thin ascending steps into the entryway. In the kitchen, my mother doted on me, becoming an uncomfortable coat in the summer night’s humid heat. While they graced my ears with words of longing and concern, what caught my attention was their insurmountable giddiness.
It made sense. They were sending their little filly off to the Princess Twilight’s school of magic. The princess they thanked endlessly.
The one who my father saw saved the world on that fateful day in Ponyville.
Individual words and memories rarely left meaningful impacts on me. My horn dodged his horn as we nuzzled, and he said, ‘If you could even be one bit the pony that Princess Twilight Sparkle is, I wouldn’t be happier. So go out there, you don’t have to worry about us. Chase down that dream with everything you’ve got!’
Glancing past him, the white door frame remained closed for just that night. No hooves would stomp past it, and no greetings or goodbyes would bounce by it. The saddlebags lay stagnant, an inevitable omen of change. On the other side of that door, I had no idea there would be a tiny apartment within which I would toil until candles burned up. I couldn’t see it then, and so it wasn’t real. Instead, I focused on hugging my parents, and in return they prepared me as best they could for the future. That kitchen fed me wisdom a la carte, dimly lit but lively all the same.
Things didn’t change all too much. Packed saddlebags, words of wisdom, and hugs marked today as a day to remember. Most importantly, it was a day where the scrambling and scratching no longer filled the room. I couldn’t remember if that had ever been the case before. I chased and chased, just like my father said, but now another door shrouded the beyond. The predictability of routine left a vacancy in my brain, and whether that’s what prevented me from falling asleep or not, I didn’t know how to fill it in.
A sluggish journey to the kitchen for a glass of water was all I could come up with. The slow sips reflected the soft moonlight onto the light brown wood of the cabinets. Even in the dark, my brain finally picked up on the jarring clashes of color between the dull blue walls and the cabinets. I hadn’t noticed it before.
Still, my brain tried following different neural pathways of potential problems. Each one led to a dead end, but after years of threatening deadlines constantly foreboding, one day without them was almost even more nerve-wracking. Constant progression was my state of being. After each unfounded worry was disputed, however, I finally loosened my muscles and kept my hooves on the ground. Another sip emptied out the glass, and so I put it in the sink which was more empty than normal. There was nothing to do but sleep, it was optimal. Finally, it was a good use of my time.
On the old mattress, creaky and dented, I laid there smiling. Staring at that door wouldn’t have removed the impending change or revealed the future behind it. And besides, that mystery was exciting as well. The only preparation left was to go unconscious and bring tomorrow closer. In this situation, a breath of air and the quiet within it could help me progress.
Tomorrow, the door opens, and those lime green saddlebags resume their chase.
I was content with being a unicorn. I’d considered the possibility of either being an earth pony or a pegasus, but taking away the magic and spellcasting and Wednesday nights in the caves would be taking away so much value in my life. The pros and cons were never even close.
Then, I saw Ponyville from the chariot.
If I could have taken more open air travel opportunities, then I most certainly would have, after that incredible experience. It was all impressive, but not in the Canterlot Elite interpretation of impressive where regal decor shone in every corner and glowing magic permeated each wall. No, the vastness overtook my senses while I glided in its unending sky. I began contemplating how much of the world I was missing each time I teleported. So many potential connections to my surroundings could have been made with one scenic trip, ones that I hoped to undertake more often. The irreplaceable efficiency of teleportation – and most magic – still had its place, but all I needed was one chariot ride to understand the pride of the pegasi.
Hay roofing lay sprawled out between the messy web of gravel streets, and a tree or two poked out from the rolling hills in between white brick houses. The lush greenery overwhelmed the unfortified outskirts, casting the houses in leafy shadows. At the center of the spidering pattern lay a plaza with a bakery, a spa, and a peculiar shop which sold both quills and sofas, according to the chariot drivers who planned to stop there before they headed back to Canterlot. The castle-crystal-tree was the crowning jewel of the town, nestled between mountains and flanked by the waterfalls of the Friendship School.
As we passed over the first stretch of orchards, I could make out four unicorns waiting outside the castle doors. I knew that Princess Twilight had sent word that I was coming, but I was not expecting a whole welcoming party. Nothing like this happened when I would arrive in Canterlot after a trip home.
The descent was swift and painless, but before I could thank the Guards and say hello, an amber hoof was outstretched into the chariot. “Luster Dawn, right?” I rose my head above the hoof. Housed in a collar was a head that looked to be on fire with its vibrant red and yellow mane. “I’m Sunset Shimmer, the mayor here.”
“Thank you, mayor. Glad to meet you.” Matching the eager smile she wore, I took the hoof and hopped down to where the sun couldn’t reach me. I was met with three other vibrant smiles.
“Let’s get some quick introductions going,” Sunset said with enough zeal for both of us. “First on the right is Starlight Glimmer, the Headmare at the School of Friendship. After that is Sunburst, Vice Headma—stallion. I said stallion this time.” The formalities gave way, interrupting Sunburst’s sheepish wave due to a fit of chuckles from the crowd. “And last in line is Moondancer, the librarian here for both collections. I understand that she’ll be the one helping you with your work, right?”
Moondancer came forward, her taped glasses needing a quick readjustment to take in all of me. “I’m glad you came, Luster Dawn, because I’ve been meaning to give this key to a pony who would make use of it.” Hanging in front of me, the hourglass handle reflected bright sheens of morning sunlight into my eyes. Replacing Moondancer’s white glowing aura with my own, I stuffed the tower library’s key directly into my saddlebags.
“Happy to meet you, all of you,” I said, trying to make eye contact with all of them.
The Headmare was focused on Sunset, however. “It’s getting later than I thought, we should probably head to the station now.” Then she turned to me, her dress twirling out around her hind legs. “I can’t wait to hear about your apprenticeship under Twilight, Luster Dawn, but we’ll have Moondancer help you get settled while we meet some other ponies for an arrival.”
Sunburst gave a swift peck to Moondancer’s cheek as he broke away, my own self just realizing that they had barely separated since I had arrived. “I’ll let Flurry Heart know that you’re excited to see her again.”
My brain shorted from the sheer disbelief. “Wait, Princess Flurry Heart?”
“Last night,” the mayor sighed while oblivious to my hanging jaw, “a stray letter poofed onto my bed just as I was hopping in it. Princess Cadance and company decided to move up their usual moonly trip to Ponyville a weekend early. So, we have to cut this short, but I’m sure you’re raring to get to your searching.”
That cunning filly actually managed to make a change in plans that quickly for the entire royal family. I shook my mind free of those thoughts before they started doing laps. Work was the next thing in my head. “No worries, I am pretty excited about this project.” Another chuckle of approval, but they began rounding the gold chariot in order to reach the plaza. “Thanks for the warm welcome!”
Another round of waves and well-wishing left myself and Moondancer in front of a different pair of unreasonably large doors. The stairs clanked on her hooves as she said, “It’s a maze in here, even though it looks small. Stay close by, I’ll take you to where you’ll be staying.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” I made two quick leaps and joined her in the vast hallway which extended far beyond where the tree should have ended. Even through my upward gaze scanning past the violet brick walls, the ceiling evaded my view. Ornate accents and crystalline structures jutted out in too many spots to make sense of. Carpets extended in three directions until jumbling into the staircases or massive decorative tree paintings or a banner with a book. The archways just ahead contained luminescent crystals which bounced and glared to cause streaks in my vision. I thought I remembered seeing some windows as well.
My guide never once winced or slowed, her monotonous trotting clogged my thoughts. Forced to keep up with her, I could not process the entirety of my environment, and we began our trek to my room. Within the silence, I retreated into my mind in an attempt to relax it, but that proved to be a poor choice.
We climbed that long staircase as I was confronted with the consideration of my future, as Princess Twilight had urged. The signals in my mind were firing in far too many areas, so I wound up latching onto her, my mentor. I attempted to remember her own stories of uncertainty, of which there were too many. That did relieve me slightly. Of course, imagining how she felt while inside of the realm of her own magic’s creation proved to only cause my posture to stiffen more. This isn’t where she planned to live when she moved to Ponyville, in fact she despised it at one point. She never planned to grow wings and rule Equestria, until the nation needed her at the helm. She adapted to her circumstances, but plans seemed to be made for her.
We took a turn to a hallway which clicked as our hooves met the cold marble, reflective and gray like a mirror. My reflection stared back at me, pensive and troubled as if she could foresee my future and its woes. The ones I hoped – no, expected – to avoid. Princess Twilight’s followup questions began echoing and sending waves through my vision and the reflection. They were trivial, in the scheme of it all, but those pesky details wanted to be found by my decisions. If Twilight had those arrangements made for her in pursuit of her goals, perhaps that was my path as well.
That just redirected me to the giant rabbit hole which I had been avoiding going down: figuring out a goal for myself. Moondancer once again turned on a dime, leading me into a hallway with almost completely new decor, which I had to once again digest. The columns of vibrant rocks now topped off with a gem heart, and in between each column was a cloudy night skyscape painted onto the stone with greenish blues and twinkling stars. In the doorway, I hesitated for a moment. It was involuntary, and it only lasted for just a split second. Maybe it was the number of doors, the contrast of the shiny stone with the calm carpet, or the sheer size of every detail, something overwhelmed me. And maybe I was kidding myself about what exactly caused that hesitation.
Moondancer paused in front of an unmarked, undistinguished door. Her aura revealed a perfectly empty room besides a freshly made bed, a wide dresser with a lamp, and a wooden lectern with some room to pace around it. I noticed some paper within the lectern, and asked about them. “Those are the catalogs for both libraries, and the one on top should be for the school’s. We’ll cover that one first, probably stop for lunch at some point. Take your time to get settled and comfortable. When you’re done, I’ll be in the library, down three doors that-a-way. Any other questions for me now?”
After spacing out, I stepped into the room which would be able to fit two of my apartments in it, gazing at the tall ceilings and gems hanging down of all colors. “N-no, this is great, everything is great so far.” She shut the door, leaving me alone with my fascination.
I wandered over to the small window overlooking the town. My heart told me to come to Ponyville to look for a lost document. My place and purpose in life may not be revealed to me yet, but my mentor found her way through the world by following her heart and focusing on the work ahead of her. I focused on my work, followed my intuition, and had found success so far. I was replicating her journey, and saw no reason to change the itinerary.
Research was my future — nothing more, nothing less. Life was too fluid to depend on anything else remaining, especially locations of work. My magic, and all the labor that went into it, that was the only thing I have been able to carry through my stages of life. The relationships I made in Canterlot would probably end up just like the relationships I made in Baltimare, that gloomy city.
Feedback wrapped around my horn as I heard electric zaps behind me.
“Dawn!”
The one pony who could have proven me wrong spread her wings as she walked towards me. “Finally found you. Auntie said the paper might be here?”
Moondancer and I whittled down the entire catalog into books that would contain any information we were looking for, but even then, a third of that list was all I had accomplished by lunchtime.
She corralled me into the faculty lounge, a room partitioned by jutting stone walls and stacked boxes. Within them were all kinds of scholarly supplies, most of which were bought at the school’s founding. There were also small desk spaces and mail cubbees, right next to an overworked coffee maker. Lastly, there was the faculty dining space.
“Still no dice?” Headmare Starlight took a small bite out of her sandwich, focused entirely on me as once again I was surrounded by my superiors. This time, it was at a small wooden table shoved against the corner. I didn’t have an escape from the Ponyville twenty questions.
I swallowed hard, heaving my chest forward to give those flower petals some extra help going past the lump in my throat. “Nope. Not even a reference in any of the studies we checked out, some of which had to do with really intricate details of magical theory.”
She chuckled politely. “It’s been a while since I’ve delved into those works. It’s hard to get approval from a review board when you can barely ever travel to it. How about you, Sunburst?”
“It really has been busy at the school, but even when I do get time to read nowadays, I don’t get quite into deep theory unless there’s a stunning development.” He played with his beard while tracking the chiseled flow of the pillars along the walls.
“Right,” said Moondancer. “Out of all the ponies here, I’m probably the one who has read the most in this realm recently. I want to be thorough, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up, at least not until we get to the library within the castle.”
“Why are there two separate libraries, anyways? They’re both in the same location, practically speaking.” To these ponies, I was a comedian.
Sunburst had to rub his glasses on his cloak before replying. “We get this question so often, especially from the students. References to things that would be useful for students go in here, according to different curricula, as well as some encyclopedias. Mostly everything else, from fiction to high level mathematics, are housed in the other library.”
“It seems like we are doing a good job of that,” chimed in Moondancer in between sips of her water glass. “Even today, the boarding students were using the library.”
I nodded. “I’m impressed at how motivated the students are, honestly. It feels like I’m one of the only ponies at the School of Magic that ever visits Canterlot library.”
Starlight cleared her throat. “Well,” she sighed with ceiling-bound eyes, “while I would like to think that it’s because of their own motivation, they have some external factors forcing them into the library this weekend.”
“Sunset doesn’t like us talking about it, but have you heard about the cutiemap debacle?” Sunburst questioned quietly.
“Bits and pieces of the story have come by me.” They were all looking in different directions, and the sunlight coming in reflected easily off their eyes. “Was it really that bad?”
A white hoof comforted Starlight with some gentle back rubs, and from that hoof came an explanation. “Some of the faculty, our friends, were called by the map that day. The Smokey Mountains are not far by hot air balloon. Sometimes, map trips take an extended amount of time, a couple of days even.” Moondancer hesitated, counting under her breath. “It’s been ten days.”
“So, we’re short on staff.” Starlight built herself back up with one deep breath. “Ocellus as well went on one of her outreach endeavors concerning the hive, so the students have essentially been learning material from the books this past week or so. Some of the retired faculty have filled in as best they could, but multiple classes have had a jarring experience.”
Sunburst gave a short glance across the table to Moondancer. “That debacle also spawned some unrest in the town, causing a fight to almost break out. Most of the students don’t realize what’s happening, but those that do will also stir up trouble. It’s been the same in other regions, with some politicians praising the violence. Sunset has really been feeling the weight of it. We all have.”
Creaks squealed out from the wooden chairs underneath us, only audible because no one spoke for a minute.
“You’re Twilight’s personal student, so you see her somewhat often, right?” Starlight asked. I affirmed it, not ready for the followup. “Is she doing okay?”
The hug she gave me flashed through my mind the instant Starlight let go of that question. She was always caring through her words and actions, we rarely ever hugged. I didn’t need to say anything, however, for them to receive a response.
“Yeah, I figured she’s got a lot more on her plate now.” Starlight zipped up her lunchbox and shoved it onto the floor. “When I was her student, she wasn’t handling nearly as much, so I can’t imagine what her mentorship is like now that she’s the Princess.”
“You were her student?” Suddenly, the tall plants near the window were much less interesting.
As the others finished up their lunches, the Headmare shared her journey with me. “Not long after Twilight became a royal, she wandered into my life and shook my faulty foundation. Although I had done much evil, especially towards her, she took me under her wings as a student. I learned what I could about friendship, saved Equestria a few times over, and before I could turn around, Twilight was off to Canterlot.” Her usual smile lost its vigor, just for a moment.
Although she shared so many similarities to Princess Twilight, Starlight Glimmer wore a dress to keep a frivolous school in Ponyville running. The Princess had mentioned that Starlight was once her superior in terms of magical ability, even as an alicorn. Starlight lived in the shade of what her teacher created. “Are you happy with where you are now?”
That wise confidence, a trademark of my lessons with Princess Twilight, overtook her face. “I wouldn’t be happier anywhere else.”
We practiced this exchange.
“It’s an honor to meet you as well, Princess Flurry Heart.”
“Likewise.”
We practiced it once. It was a joke, a stand up routine even. The teals on the bookshelves began showing in Flurry’s cheeks, she was so pale. Even when running, I didn't sweat that much. That was the first time I had ever been nervous inside a library. Performance was neither of our strong suits, yet it was our selected option.
Her parents ate it up.
Princess Cadance was the first to speak outside of formalities. “Twilight has told me over and over how much she enjoys mentoring you. You’re quite the star pupil.” She unfurled her wing over her daughter and husband, creating a fortress around the family. “I’m surprised we haven’t met yet, but you must be busy as Twilight’s student.”
Shining Armor tried not to laugh. “Anyone close to Twilight has an increased papercut hazard. I’m sure you’re up to the task, though, since it’s been so long without you quitting. I wouldn’t expect Twilight to bring in anypony else. You do remind me of her.”
“You aren’t the first pony who has said that today,” I remarked, looking over to Moondancer who was seated in a tall chair with maroon matching the color of the carpet. She smirked and went back to the book on the table. “I’m flattered, really. It’s tough to keep up, but I don’t mind the long nights.”
Flurry sat down and quietly waited between her parents, not making much eye contact with me, even at my invitation. The stoicism landed flat on her snout.
“How is the school?” continued Princess Cadance. “We had thought about letting Flurry Heart attend to aid her in her spells, but I want to hear about it from a pony on the inside.”
I put a quick hoof to my chin, not to buy time to think, but instead I pruned some of the select words I would use to describe that institution. “While there are a few changes I would make to the curricula, the school itself functions just fine. I’m fed well, the teachers are helpful, and the atmosphere of the school is focused on learning, not grades.” The adults exchanged a few smiling glances.
Flurry, however, grew more rigid in her expression. She peered at me through those longing, opal eyes. “However,” I interjected, “the education itself was not challenging me. It was only when Princess Twilight pushed me did I truly grow in my magical capabilities. The school was the foundation of principles, but the experience of using the spells and doing research brought it all together.”
Somewhere, I took a wrong step. Shining asked, “If that’s the case, then maybe you could help out Flurry Heart?”
I saw the young mare freeze. Flurry held her mouth open in hopes of gaining oxygen. That forehead donned a couple wrinkles, and those legs bent into preparation. I could feel the rising heartbeat escalating her thoughts, and she shut off access to her eyes so she could preserve some of her self-esteem.
“What was the spell you were working on?” Princess Cadance's parental eyes finally recognized her daughter’s feelings. “Why don’t we leave you two to talk about that before dinner? It’ll give us a good chance to catch up with Moondancer and Sunburst.”
Reanimated, but not without some lingering emotion, Flurry turned to her mother. “Sounds good, but I do want to catch up with them as well, maybe after dinner.”
A couple swings of green glass later, Flurry rested her head in the frog of her hoof. The slight bags under her eyes were bluish, and her eyes themselves were bloodshot at the edges.
“You’re dehydrated, and in desperate need of some alone time.” I walked over to my saddlebags by the door, and I sifted through the potential references from the school’s library in hopes of finding a remedy to one of those issues.
She replied to my commentary how any drained pony would. “And the sky is blue, but there’s nothing I can change about that either.”
I chucked the plastic water bottle behind me, and Flurry never saw it coming.
“Thanks.” Half a meter away from me, I caught a light, wide book. Without looking. “Oh, come onnn,” she groaned, upset that she had not mastered the art of a magical food fight.
“Is the spell in here?” Closing my saddlebags, I turned to the mare who had already emptied the entire bottle.
She coughed a bit and held her chest as she met me at the wooden table at the side of the cavernous library. “Fifth page.”
This unnamed notebook contained some hefty scribbling, stick figures, and only a couple of spells. Some sketches on the designated page depicted the reappearance of King Sombra and the Crystal Empire, all tied up with a phrase at the bottom right corner. Whoever this belonged to would have benefited from some elementary level hornwriting techniques, but the eloquence of the notes suggested that it was a certain pony who was there on that day, casting a spell of her own.
“Amore meo hoc populum munio.” The particulars were intriguing, everything down to the word order was incredibly intentional. In history classes, they recalled the force of the barrier and its ability to repel Sombra’s fear. Seeing the spell itself made it clear that this magic was designed to focus a powerful emotion through a small scope in order to increase its effect radius and strength. It was fascinating. “This is a deeply complex spell, Flurry.”
“Starlight, my parents, Twilight — they all tell me that I need to master this spell. It’s a requirement, part of my royal duty. For years, I’ve only struggled with it, and although I can read all this ancient language stuff, I can’t say that I understand it all.”
The School of Magic teaches only how to use spells through focusing, even though some casters are more attuned to an intuitive approach. Flurry Heart was in the latter category. Most of these users do need to have some basis in the study, rather than working purely artistically. “Have you ever learned the working theory of magic?”
Her deadpan maintained the dead air for an uncomfortable time. “What do you mean?”
“Lucky for you,” I paraded with a glowing horn, “I’ve given a presentation on this exact topic. If you really want to stop bashing your head against a wall when learning newer spells, pay close attention.” A neon, flowing diagram of a unicorn silhouette appeared in a cloud of magic over the table, and the room grew bright from its glow bouncing off the reflective branches that encased it.
“So, although some ancient ponies proposed that magic was innate, the discovery that magic is an ambient resource that is all around us came from innovations in instrumentation. Through some unification of several theories from the past century, the current model describes four necessary components for all magic.”
The pony in the diagram flickered between red and white. “There is always a tie to physical matter, and the general term used for the physical conduit of magic is the ‘corpus’. In most cases, it is an organic or carbon-based material, which is why crystals have been fantastic magical objects.”
Swirls of speckled lines began flowing through the body of the unicorn and out through the horn. I took a look at my audience, and there were no signs of misunderstanding. “Magic, as we usually think of it, is referred to as ‘animus’. These are the spells we cast, the emotions we feel, and the bonds between ponies all wrapped up into one broad umbrella. As an intuitive caster, you know that your visceral emotions empower you to cast spells, right?”
She was still focused on the diagram, so I gave her cheek a quick poke. “Wha-? Yeah, right, my spells come from my heart.”
“Exactly.” The diagram began showing shimmering particles around the unicorn, but it wasn’t my doing. The glass door swung closed.
“Then, of course, there’s the ambient magic all around us.” Sunset Shimmer’s red aura gave life to the simple line art, drawing in eyes and filling in the background with a rushing river and trees. “These are ‘momenta’, a formless, stateless ether which ponies draw on to power our spells. If the ‘animus’ is the output, then ‘momenta’ are the input.”
Sunset, out of her formal attire in favor of a pair of saddlebags, sat across the table. Her eyes were restless, enthralled with the magic in front of her. “There’s a certain unicorn mage who was fascinated with momenta, but I’ll let you finish your discussion first.”
Her horn powered down. “Don’t let me forget to ask you, mayor.” She nodded, quiet as a lamb now.
“Lastly, there’s the least known aspect. Something must process the inputs and give form to the spells. This is referred to as the ‘anima’, the muscle of magic. This is what separates powerful wizards from the weaker, what distinguishes the pony races in their magical abilities. There’s a biological area in the brain right here —” a thick arrow pointed through the chin of the unicorn “— which has been linked to this phenomenon. When Tirek went about stealing ponies’ ‘magic’, he was actually stealing this component, thus increasing his magical capabilities.”
As the cloud faded away and my horn quieted, the room grew colored with the hues of sunset. Flurry rubbed her hooves against her eyes because the tiredness had only increased during that lesson. “So, how will this help me with my mother’s spell?”
“Well…” I wandered off, gazing over towards the now quiet pony. “You’re here to let us know that dinner is ready, right?”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “Nothing gets past you, huh. They said no rush, to let you all finish up first. Like I said earlier, though, that isn’t the only reason I’m here.”
Flurry had put her head down between her hooves on the table, turned away from the two of us and the notebook. If she wasn’t adjusting her weight so much, I would say she was asleep. “I think we can continue working on this spell after dinner, if that’s alright with you, Princess.” She spun her head around to gaze up at me, just to nod once, the tired soul. After years of frustration, a couple hours was not a long wait.
I turned to Sunset, who had put her saddlebags on the table now. “So, who is the unicorn you’re talking about, mayor?”
Out of the cyan sack came a photo which slid towards me with ease. There was Sunset, just as vivacious but with a bit more spunk, alongside a few other unicorns in front of Fleety’s house (before he lived there, of course). She pointed to the one next to herself, at the edge of the group. Her icy blue coat sharpened her lean form, and her foggy gray mane carried two white streaks that spiraled along its shoulder length. “This is Comet Tail, my old classmate.”
My goal was right in front of me. “I thought Moondancer was the one who was supposed to help us find her. Where is she now?”
“Slow down, tiger, this picture was taken a long time ago, and a lot has happened since.” I looked at my hooves which were now on the table. The image of me pouncing was not far fetched. I slid down slowly back to the floor.
Flurry, still holding back yawns, knew about Sunset’s history. “That was before you went to the human world. Have you ever reconnected with her?”
Sunset took the picture back to her own hooves. “We weren’t too close, and I never got to know her before I, well, took off.” She shoved away the piece of mane which had fallen over her face, holding it back behind her shoulder. “The weird thing is that up until Moondancer said that name just a few minutes ago, I hadn’t heard of her since then. Nopony seems to know where she is, only that she had taken residence in Golden Oak Library when she graduated from Celestia’s school.
“What I do know, though, is that she was obsessed with momenta and the working model. Celestia entrusted her to work on it, to oversee that the inner workings of magic were fully explored and understood, for the safety of ponies everywhere. The more they knew, the more they could predict the future and prevent disaster.” She chuckled. “I guess it didn’t really work too well, though, considering the crazy things that happened to Twilight and her friends.”
My gut sloshed and spun until it required my hoof to calm it down. A pony, committed to the same ideas that Flurry and I were, had not only disappeared off the face of Equestria, but hadn’t even succeeded in her goals. Was that my fate? The form of Comet Tail floated back onto the table, solemn and determined. The last remaining trace of a researcher was here, forgotten to time. Lost.
Unimportant.
Sunset got up and asked us to get some food. Something was said about me being sick, but I just dismissed it and told them I only needed a minute to think. The swirling cerulean sea within Comet’s eyes sucked me into her hopelessness. Air was something I barely considered needing under all that ocean. Fatigue came over me like a wave, crashing into my head and rippling out to my eyes and ears. All those years of studying, all the helpful hooves at my side, all these late nights could have been forgotten as well. Purpose escaped me, diffusing into the salty waters.
I joined Flurry Heart on the table. I saw her, and she saw me. We were just two young mares trying to swim through our world, looking for stable ground. The chances of drowning in it all increased with the passing days, and the skies would close around the sun whenever it tried to shine. We could swim and swim and swim until the water simply eroded us away with unavoidable time.
The young Princess, lifeless against the glossy wood, echoed what she said once before. “And the sky is blue, there’s nothing I can change about that either.”
Yet within her words, in her helpless state, I realized that I could never let myself get so low.
“I can’t just give up on what I’ve worked so hard for, not with one blow.”
I put my hoof on hers. “And for once in my life, I’m not letting another pony give up, either.” She scoffed, and I would have too in her position. “I don’t care if this is naive ambition talking, but we can do this. You’ll figure out this spell, and I’ll figure out this research, as long as we keep going. We have to just keep going, because hard work is the only way to realize our dreams. It’s what got me here.”
I smiled, finally realizing that this situation was far from negative. “Let’s go get some food, Flurry.”
Soon, Flurry Heart was back on her hooves. My energy started to rub off, she was cracking jokes again and almost nailed me with her empty bottle. We closed up everything and made our way to the dining hall, but my heart had been jazzed up during that speech, and I couldn’t stop its flow.
Even with the tides of time ebbing away at my being, I was prepared to sift through every single book. No magic could hide from me, and since Comet Tail hadn’t come up in any obituaries, she was somewhere, and so was her work. Although it was an exhausting, thankless task, I loved every minute of searching through those tomes with Moondancer. Tomorrow, ten years from now, and on the day I passed on from this world, I needed the research of Equestrian scholars in my hooves.
I was content with being a unicorn, because otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to research magic. It’s where I had always been aiming for, and it’s where I had always belonged, no matter what this world had in store for me.
