It used to be said that the night sky, in its shimmering beauty, was a spell cast by some mythical being or other to protect the unicorns below while they slept*. This view has long since been debunked, but there is something about the night sky that draws the gaze of any true scholar of magic. Consider, for example, the five points of Orion’s Saddle, which upon closer inspection by use of a telescope provided Headmaster Marcus Cirenius Merstrum with the inspiration for what has now become known as Cirenius’ Basket. All this, through the intricate study of the strands of pure magic that appear to weave the tapestry of the sky…
—from Astronomy and Magical Theory: A Guide for the Unfamiliar but Aspiring Student
“That is all,” Professor Fenglade said, her tone as stern and dry as it had been for the whole lesson. “You may leave.”
Maria sat patiently, her notes rolled up neatly in her saddle-bags, as she waited for her fellow students to stand and leave. Her face was calm and relaxed, years of practice creating a mask lest her reactions provoke one of her classmates holding her in place, but inside she was fuming. As always happened with the theory lessons, she felt as if her last hour had been entirely wasted.
Astronomy, Maria had always been told, was an ancient and important subject that held great traditional importance to the culture of Equestria. Apparently the stars held within them the deepest secrets of magic, and many new discoveries in magical theory had come about from the study of the heavenly bodies. To understand the stars, in their infinite beauty, flickering in the night sky like the texture of hornglow itself, was key to understanding the magic that guided everyone through life; the High Priest had always said that there was no finer joy in life than contemplating the motions of the stars and, through them, the will of the Source.
Maria couldn’t have cared less—she’d much rather study potion-making, and she’d only had one lesson of that so far.
After the other students had filed slowly out of the room, Maria stood and bowed briefly to Professor Fenglade, who gave her a sharp nod in return, before heading out of the room herself. Astro had overrun, of course, and Fenglade—the other Professor Fenglade, not the Headmistress—could never stand latecomers. Thankfully the Runes classroom was not too far from Astronomy: down the hallway, turn left, and take a right just before the Cloisters.
It wasn’t so far that one could get easily lost—especially at the start of a new year, students could often find themselves taking a wrong turn and stumbling upon a room they had never seen before, given the changeable nature of the Arcana—but it was just far enough for Maria’s mind to wander.
Foalnappings, in Canterlot. It seemed crazy: foalnappings were rare enough in rural areas, and among ponies who, Maria thought bitterly, were much less likely to be reported missing to the authorities. The idea that multiple unicorns could vanish from Canterlot itself was deeply unsettling… and yet, Maria found herself mostly untroubled. She was safe inside the Arcana, of that she was certain, but so were almost all the unicorns she was close enough to to care about. Primro—Mum might be in some danger, but Maria was sure that the Wards at home would keep her safe. Besides, if Dad thought she were in any danger, he could always arrange accommodation in the Arcana for her.
It was Tim’s family she was more worried about.
The Sparkles weren’t a particularly old House, having sprung up from a rogue descendant of House Everfree barely a century ago. They were small, and all very close—and though the family had no land to their name, they had just enough money and influence to remain a minor political power in Canterlot. Tim’s father was cousin to the Head of House, and worked a minor position in some regulatory department at the Thaumata; his mother was a researcher, formerly a teacher at the Arcana.
Arthur and Primrose Everfree were only able to afford the Wards on their home as an expense from the family vaults (House Everfree had traditionally always protected its own—at least, those of its own who were respectable enough), and Maria knew that such provisions would not be made for Tim’s family by House Sparkle. If one of them were to be foalnapped…
Maria shook her head. There was nothing she would be able to do to protect them. Even if she could convince her Dad to offer them a room to stay, until any danger had passed, he never would—Quercus would never let him offer such a close sign of friendship to House Sparkle.
She caught her fellow students up as they neared the corner by the Cloisters—it seemed that Harry had jumped through the balcony and was showing off some Illusion or other in the open air, and most of the year group had gathered around to watch. She rolled her eyes, but respectfully stood to one side to watch his antics, though didn’t really pay him very much attention. It wasn’t as if Illusory juggling were that impressive, being such a simple loop of motion. Had this been first year, she would have out-done him easily and with pleasure… but she knew better, now, what a neophyte’s place was, so she simply watched.
Even when the bell rang, signifying that they were all late for class, Maria stayed where she was and watched her classmates, thinking. It wouldn’t do for a neophyte to arrive on time when the rest of the class was late; she would rather risk the wrath of Fenglade, distributed among the class, than to draw any further attention to herself.
She really, really couldn’t afford to be singled out any more.
*It is worth reading up on these ancient mythologies and religions of the earliest unicorns. Popular Historian Sophia Luminare Everfree has written several engaging books on the subject, building upon the work of scholars such as Michelle Papyrah Dornsen and Timothy Whitetail.