//------------------------------// // Interference, Part 3 // Story: Solstice // by Scorpius //------------------------------// And so it came to pass that Starswirl entered the town of Westport, and at once the local official[a] approached him and said: “Oh, mage, we are blessed! For our town has been devastated by a most dreadful disease, and many of the townsfolk are bedridden and afraid that they might die. Many doctors and mages have tried to cure their ills[b], or ease their pain, but nothing that they have tried has worked. You are our last hope, great Starswirl.” Starswirl said, “Let me see the sick, that I might understand this illness.” And the local official brought him before a house, and from within they could hear cries and screams of pain. Yet Starswirl did not cower in fear, but faced the house with determined eyes, and knocked upon the door thrice. —from Signa 16:1-7 “How did it go?” Of course Tim was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her. Maria smiled warmly and trotted carefully down the last few steps from the Headmistress’ office, before turning back to him. “It could have gone better,” she said, gesturing for Tim to follow her as she started to walk down the corridor. “Neither of us found any traces of any interference on the telescope, and the Headmistress still has no idea why I saw what I did.” “At least you got to skip classes,” Tim replied, and Maria grudgingly nodded in agreement. “Some of us have had to put up with Illusion all afternoon while you were off doing fancy academics with the Headmistress.” Maria smirked. “It’s hardly my fault that my telescope broke,” she said, “but I suppose it is my fault that half the charms on it aren't exactly standard…” “Wait,” Tim said, his brows twisted in a frown. “I thought we were going to dinner? This isn’t the way to the Hall.” Maria grimaced in apology. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m really not feeling up to seeing people at the moment. I thought maybe I could get someone to bring dinner down to my room for us?” “That sounds nice. I could do with a quiet evening in.” “That’s what I thought.” There were a few moments of comfortable, friendly silence after that. It made a nice change from the expectant quiet of the Headmistress’ office, where Maria had felt constantly under scrutiny, and was always on edge to prepare herself for the moment a mistake was found. It felt good to fall into step alongside a friend, and enjoy their presence, without having to worry about their imminent judgement. Of course, Tim had to ruin it. “So were you really just inspecting Enchantments all afternoon?” He sounded incredulous, as if he didn’t understand that even the Headmistress wouldn’t have been able to fix a problem merely by glancing at it. She didn’t blame him, though—hadn’t she thought the same only that morning? “Yes. There was a lot to look through. We had to check every single charm to see if it had been compromised in any way.” “Oh.” Tim looked surprised, and his brows were furrowed deeply in thought. For a moment he said nothing, and the two simply resumed their walk in quiet, until they had turned the corner into the cloisters. “But… surely you knew what the effect of the interference was, right?” Maria frowned. “Not really,” she replied. “Interference, particularly with wild magic, is so unpredictable. There wouldn’t really be any way of knowing what effects it would have until we’d found it—” “But you knew that an effect was making a purple flash appear specifically on a line of wild magic,” Tim continued, interrupting her. “So surely you would just have to reverse-engineer a charm that did something similar and look for any formulae that shared the basic structure with that.” Maria stopped dead in her tracks. For a moment, it seemed, Tim didn’t notice and continued to walk along the old, stone corridor; when he did notice, he turned back, and offered Maria a questioning glance. It was actually a perfect solution. Tim was right—there was no need to inspect every single charm for any signs of alteration when they could simply pinpoint any threads that could have the effect she’d witnessed. Even if she couldn’t perfectly reverse-engineer the charm, the structures would be similar enough to identify… “Since when were you an Enchanting genius?” Maria asked, shocked and—though she’d never admit it—a little bit hurt. She might not have a huge amount of talent for the subject, but she had put in a lot of effort to be among the best in her year at Enchanting in particular. She’d always felt just a little possessive of it, as a subject. “It’s pretty much the only class I get As in, Maria,” Tim replied. “Not to mention one of the only ones I like. I swear we’ve talked about this before…” Maria closed her eyes for a moment, and forced herself to push any feelings of jealousy or bitterness out of her mind. Tim had every right to excel at a subject—and besides, he had just offered her a solution to her problem on a silver platter. That was reason enough to celebrate, wasn’t it? “Thank you, Tim,” she said, quietly but sincerely. “Would you care to help me figure out the right formula over dinner?” Tim grinned at her, a glint of mischief in his eye. “Why, Maria! You do know how to treat a stallion. That must be the most romantic suggestion I’ve ever heard!” Maria swung her saddlebag at his head, but he ducked before it could make contact, chuckling to himself. Maria snorted as loudly as she could, and kept on walking along the corridor towards the dormitories. “Come on, you prat,” she said, an affectionate smile playing on her lips. “Let’s get this over with.” [a] magistratus: literally, “magistrate”. In modern context, this unicorn would have had duties similar to a town’s mayor, both over the citizenry and the ponies in the town’s care. [b]: it is worth noting that the author of Signa is widely believed to have been a (medical) doctor by profession, and he could well be trying to defend his fellow practitioners. Phrases such as this are missing from other sources that otherwise corroborate the histories in this book.