//------------------------------// // Release // Story: Solstice // by Scorpius //------------------------------// I dedicate this book to my dear Juniper, Who has helped me through many a rough night of fruitless research And has kept me smiling even when all things seemed grey. I love you very much, my wife. —from the dedication to An Advanced Guide to Sacrificial Magic “... and as I’m looking up and taking all my notes, you know, cross-referencing the pattern I’m seeing with the standard resources and running calculations on the Numerological formulae, I swear I see this flash of purple streak along one of the threads. It’s totally unexpected, because of course all the books say that there’s never any change to them, right? So I rewind my view because, you know, I could have just hallucinated it? But no. It’s there every time I replay it, and I have no idea what it is. “Of course Fenglade says it’s my telescope—she took one look at the recording I’d made and then just shot me an awful look of… I don’t how to describe it. You know when teachers think we’re never going to be any good because we’re neophytes, but they put on that fake air of sympathy and disappointment? It was like that, but worse. And she told me to head straight back down to my dorm and start work on checking my telescope for faults, because she didn’t have time to do that right then. “Half an hour later they must have changed their minds, because a serving-mare knocks on my door and tells me that I’m expected in the Headmistress’ office tomorrow… well, today now, I guess. Clearly Fenglade must have thought something more was was going on than just my telescope malfunctioning, but if she did why didn’t she say something in front of the others?” She left just enough time for Tim to start to open his mouth before she carried on. He didn’t seem to mind. Tim was an excellent listener—and besides, while she was talking he was able to carry on eating. If she was honest with herself, Maria knew she'd reached the point where she no longer cared whether Tim wanted to listen or not—she needed to get this off her chest, now, before she ended up having this outburst at someone who might take offense. Besides, it felt incredibly cathartic to just talk. “Because I’m a neophyte, so obviously I couldn’t have spotted anything important during a lesson that my classmates hadn’t. And she certainly didn’t want them to know I’d got that replay Charm working, because I bet you none of them have ever even thought about trying that. “But you know what bothers me the most? That she said she ‘didn’t have time’ to check my telescope right then. She’d spent the entire sourcedamn lesson fixing all the others’ telescopes, but she couldn’t spare a second to even check if mine was faulty? I was up all night looking over those charms, and she could have checked them all in just a few minutes.” Maria let out a long breath and felt her shoulders slump with a release of stress she hadn’t even noticed building up. She looked down at her plate of barely-touched salad and her stomach growled once more. No longer caring for etiquette, she picked up a fork in her hornglow and stabbed it down onto a leaf. “Sounds like a night from Tartarus,” Tim commented drily. Maria frowned, mid-mouthful, and looked up at him questioningly. “Sorry,” he added. “I didn’t mean for that to come out quite like that. It did sound like a pretty awful night. I just… I’m not sure what else you expected. “Don’t get me wrong,” he interjected, cutting off her protest before it began and gesturing at her plate with his own fork, which was floating in the air beside him, reminding her to eat, “I’m not saying that it’s right that we get put down all the time and treated as second-class citizens just because we’re neophytes. But… it’s how things are, Maria, and at least for now? There’s nothing we can do about it.” “Aren’t you trying to get into Law—” “Yes,” Tim said, and then shook his head, sighing and resting his forehooves on the table. “But that’s years down the line. Right here, and right now? Neither of us can do a thing about this country’s prejudice. We’re practically foals, for crying out loud!” Maria took a moment to chew on another mouthful of salad, which kept her from replying immediately. She’d wanted to, though. She was tired of accepting the status quo, of following pointless rules of etiquette that treated her—no, that made her treat herself like she was worth less than the students around her. And after the night she’d had, staying in her place and behaving like a good little neophyte was the last thing she wanted to do. But in the end, she never got her chance to say any of that. “M-Maria Everfree?” The trembling voice came from behind her. Twisting around, Maria saw the red-maned colt she’d helped at the start of year feast, standing nervously and trembling a little. “Hello…” she scoured her mind for a name, and found one. “Oats, wasn’t it?” “Yes, Miss,” he replied. “The, uh… Headmistress Fenglade wanted to see you. Uhm, n-now.” Maria nodded, and rose from her cushion. Perhaps it was for the best that she wasn't able to argue with Tim any further. If she'd been ranting as much as she'd wanted to when Oats arrived… she didn't even want to think about it. And how much worse would it have been had anyone else been sent? “Thank you, Oats. If you ever need anything, me and Tim here are always more than happy to help.” And with one last, comforting smile to Oats—more for her own benefit than his—she turned and made her way calmly up towards the staff table, followed by a wave of turning heads and sudden, hushed whispers where conversation once was. The Headmistress rose as she approached, nodded to Professor Fenglade, and the three mares made their way over to the staircase that led to the Headmistress’ office. She almost didn't feel angry any more. And to my editor, Charles Pickwick Everfree, Who has managed to spot errors in formulae even I hadn’t noticed And without whose contributions this book would be much poorer.