//------------------------------// // Asking for Favours // Story: Solstice // by Scorpius //------------------------------// The proposal was considered to be part of Starswirl’s own legacy, and had been presented to the Thaumata as an idea of his that had been taken to completion. Quite whether that was so is still a question of great debate—there is no mention of any idea quite like it[a] in Epistulae or any of Starswirl’s other surviving writings[b]. And yet that presentation won the vote almost unanimous approval of the Thaumata, and began a tradition that dates back to the very start[c] of the Classical Era. —from The History of the Neophyte Oath Maria stood nervously outside the Deputy Headmaster’s office, her saddlebags resting heavily on her back. She wasn’t worried about her detention—after last night, she was almost looking forward to it—but she wasn’t sure that the Deputy Headmaster was going to like the questions she needed to ask. For starters, she needed to take Tim’s idea, and their joint work on the project, up to the Headmistress, though that hopefully wouldn’t prove too troublesome—the worst case scenario was that Whitetail would have to escort her there himself due to curfew. Still, it was asking for a favour during detention, which was a weird enough thought. But she also needed to ask him about training. She couldn’t share Quercus’ instructions with Whitetail: those were family business, and House Whitetail wasn’t exactly friendly to House Everfree these days. But she couldn’t let down her family, and she certainly couldn’t ignore a direct order from her Head of House. To do so would be political suicide, not just for her but likely for her whole family. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—be the one to make House Everfree fall. There was simply too much at stake. Abigail Oscina Forthnall had enough advantages in this Duel as it was. If Maria wanted to stand a chance of winning, she was going to have to train just as often as her. Raising a shaking hoof, Maria knocked twice on the door. After a moment, it swung open, sparkling with hornglow, and a quiet, unintelligible sound from the Deputy Headmaster summoned her inside. “Maria,” he said, nodding in greeting. Maria trotted towards a cushion, and sat herself down. “Good evening, Deputy Headmaster,” she replied. Whitetail smiled, and floated a stack of essays across the desk. “First year,” he said, turning his head to look towards a bookshelf in concentration. “You shouldn’t need notes, but I’ll just grab you the mark scheme I use…” “Sir?” Maria asked, her voice louder than she had planned. The old stallion looked back at her in surprise, and she felt her cheeks grow warm in embarrassment. “Sorry. That wasn’t meant to be a shout.” The Deputy Headmaster waved a hoof dismissively. “It happens to all of us, Maria. Don’t worry about it.” Maria nodded, swallowed, and tried again. “Sir, I was wondering. About Ms. Forthnall’s detentions…” “It would not be appropriate for a member of staff to discuss with a student the discipline of their fellows.” Whitetail took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and rubbed a hoof against his forehead, before adding, “Maria, please don’t drag me into this.” “But sir,” Maria continued, “surely Emeritus Chingar will be using her detentions to train her for the Duel?” “So far as I am aware, Maria, Abigail’s detentions consist of repetitive drills and stamina tests.” Maria bit her lip. So she’s being trained, but nobody will admit to it… “Deputy Headmaster,” Maria began again, taking her time and making sure that she carefully considered her words, “I understand that these detentions are a punishment, but you seemed to be understanding of my position. You said you wanted me to be using this time usefully, productively.” As she neared the conclusion of her argument, Maria took a deep breath. The Deputy Headmaster’s expression was unreadable, and that unsettled her. “I don’t think that there is any more useful or productive way to spend this time than making sure I am well-prepared for this Duel.” Whitetail was silent for the longest time, staring at her with a thoughtful, cold look. Maria did her best not to break eye contact for too long, and held her ground even when she felt like fidgeting. She could not afford to show weakness here. “I had been asked,” he said, his voice breaking the silence like thunder whilst barely rising above a whisper, “to instruct you in due course, and to ensure that you would be able to lose the Duel gracefully and, above all else, without losing what really matters—your House’s respect.” “Why must I lose?” Her voice was quiet, but as the words slipped out of her mouth a flood of emotions that she had been holding back crashed into her. All of a sudden she was trembling, and her mouth was dry, and her jaw clenched. She felt constricted, crushed by the force of raw feeling. “You know the answer, Maria,” Whitetail replied. “And you know that I truly wish it wasn’t so.” She wanted to hit something. Abigail would have been a good target, but at that moment Maria would have happily lashed out at anything or anyone. Instead, she slammed her hoof as carefully as she could against the stone tiles, feeling the sudden force of impact numb her nerves, and squeeze at her shoulder. A single, choked sob clawed its way out of her throat, and pushed past her lips before she could stop it. From across the table, Maria could hear the gentle patter of the Deputy Headmaster rising to his hooves. She glanced up as he took a few quiet steps around the table, and her eyes opened wide as he sat down on the cushion beside her, and placed a comforting hoof upon her shoulder. Being this close to him, and at the same level, Maria was surprised by how much shorter the old stallion seemed. “Maria,” he said, his voice calm but his ice-blue eyes wide with concern and worry. “I can’t promise to train you. Even if I were allowed to, I couldn’t—I almost failed Dueling when I was a student, would you believe? “But I know you, Maria.” Maria frowned in confusion, and the Whitetail chuckled. “I’ve taught you for over three years, now! I know that some of my colleagues might not try to know their students, but I’d like to think that I had learned a little about you all over the years, hmm? I’ve watched you grow from a filly so fascinated by everything around her that she could never stop asking questions into a young mare who has already looked up the answers, and learned them by rote; I’ve watched as you’ve grown from a filly who wrote fragmented essays in shaky hornwriting into a young mare who can articulate complex, logical arguments concisely with immaculate penmareship; I’ve watched as you’ve grown from a filly who couldn’t understand why the other students wouldn’t play with her at lunchtime to a young mare who has convinced her classmates that she has accepted her place beneath them whilst simultaneously outperforming every one of them! “Maria, I was never a fighter,” Whitetail said, sighing, his icy eyes glancing down to the floor for a moment. “But you are. You’ve been fighting for three years now to show the world that a neophyte can be so much better than anyone from the Houses. If there were any fourth year who could beat Ms Forthnall in a Formal Duel, even after she’d had a year of private training with Emeritus Chingar, it would be you. But you don’t have to win every fight, Maria. And even if you lose this one, I want you to know that your father and I are both so very proud of all that you’ve done.” Maria smiled, her lips shaking but her body relaxed with relief from a stress she hadn’t known she’d been feeling. She blinked, and a single, warm tear rolled down her cheek—she rubbed her face against her shoulder to dry it away. “Th-thank you,” she whispered, her breathing ragged. Whitetail met her smile, and took a deep, slow breath that she tried to match. “Now,” he began, rising to his hooves slowly, “do you think you’re still up to looking over these essays? They are only first-year, after all…” [a] However, even in the years before Starswirl, there is a relatively large amount of evidence that a similar, but informal system of patronage was used by some families, when a unicorn of significant potential was found among the ponies of their lands. This practice is even recognised in Scripture (c.f. Annales 23: 6) and in Pilante’s Historiae. [b] There are many writings that, throughout the history of Equestria, have been considered to be works of Starswirl. It is often highly dubious that they are so, and most have since been demonstrated to be hoaxes—some teachings from these hoaxes have even been declared Heresy by the Church. [c] Some scholars would consider the passing of the First Equestrian Reform Bill (which, among other things, began the Neophyte tradition by bringing it into law) to be the moment that the Classical Era began. Most, however, prefer to see this move as part of a kind of “buffer period” between the Pre-Classical and Classical Eras.