//------------------------------//
// Lesson One 
// Story: Something to be Proud of 
// by Eighth 
//------------------------------//

"So what will you be teaching me first?"

Trixie eagerly hops in her seat as Anonymous leans back to peer out a window.

"Hm, it is getting awfully late."

"Oh, come on. You can't just agree to teach me and then send me back."

"Well, I never did say I'd teach you."

Trixie tenses up from the shock and a wave of uneasy apprehension hits her like a charging yak.

"No... I apologise. That was a rather mean-spirited joke."

Trixie keeps her head lowered as inside she does her best to calm down and when it seems like that might take a while, she instead puts on a brave face as though it were a mask to smile wryly.

"Then to make up for it, you can teach me some magic."

Anonymous smiles back from behind that bushy fuzz then rolls the tip of his beard into his lap to stroke it like a cat.

"You're cheeky, I'll give you that. Hm, very well. How much do you know about magic?"

"I've been at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns for 3 months now, and I'm absolutely confident I am at the bottom of the class in ability, skill, and knowledge. But I remember that's what I need. Professor Inkwell says," Trixie clears her throat before doing a poor imitation of her teacher, "Every unicorn here needs to A.S.K. of magic. You all have 'a' for ability, and that is why you are at this very school. Some of you already have 's' for skill, but none of you has the 'k' for knowledge. That is why I am here--Blah-blablah-yadda-yadda! You get the idea."

"Ask of magic?"

Trixie nods.

"Well, I 'spose that is a start. If you're ever stuck, you should always ask."

"No, that's not what-- A.S.K. is an acronym."

"No-no. Forget that nonsense. Asking is always a great way to start learning. So, what do you want to learn?"

There's a VERY large part of Trixie that wants to carry on with the argument, there always is, but the prospect of starting a magic lesson wherever you want is too good for any filly to pass on. Especially not an ambitious one with dreams like Trixie.

"Fire," she beams with a smile bright enough to light kindling.

Anonymous looks around his house, "Not in here. Come on."

As he gets to his feet, bones and joints creak like he were some sort of haunted house yet he moves as if unimpeded by the wear and tear of age. Perhaps it's the reach of his legs, but he's a lot faster than Trixie so he is around the corner and out the door before she realises. Her pace turns into a hasty scamper, her feet moving faster than her brain can think where to place them, and she meets him in the backyard.





Outside has a cobbled courtyard with an empty fountain surrounded by strange but wonderful plants of likely magical nature. Even though there are more oddities in the flora than you could count, one tree stands out most of all. Perhaps for its plainness compared to the other trees, or perhaps because it's the only one with an animal in it that isn't a bird or insect.

"What is that?"

The animal is a little less than half Trixie's size, has four legs that cling to the branch, short and pointed ears, with a long and bushy tail. More notably is the circle-rim glasses and apron it is wearing that matches Anonymous' robes.

"Hm? Oh, that's Grandma."

Trixie gives a suspecting glance sidewards to Anonymous who chuckles when he notices.

"Grandma Poss is a possum and my familiar. No blood or legal relation, just magical."

"A familiar?"

"Yes. They're magical creatures who assist witches, wizards, and other such folks who are capable of magic to help them."

"What does Grandma Poss do?"

"Mainly she protects. Possum Magic is powerful stuff, even I wouldn't dare try temper with Grandma Poss' temper."

While interested in the familiar, the urgency to push on with a lesson has a stronger hold on Trixie's attention. Trixie nods then steps out into the courtyard.

"So, fire."

"Yes. First and foremost, aim at the fountain."

Eagerly, Trixie spins and takes a battle-like stance. There's a moment of silence before she finally turns back around. Standing there holding the 'Magic and its Magical Properties' tome.

"First, this."

Using her mouth to grasp the hefty tome, nearly dropping it in the process, she places it on the ground and flicks open to a random page. The page is blank. This causes Trixie to elicit an unsurprised snort. Turning a page leads to another blank. With increased irritation, Trixie flicks back and forth through the tome to find every page is blank save for the first page.



THIS BOOK IS THE PROPERTY OF:
Trixie Lulamoon



"What gives?"

"It's a magical book. Your magical book. It will contain everything you have learned about magic, once you write it down."

"Writing?" Whines Trixie, "I do SO much of that at school already though."

The book is slammed shut and Trixie pouts. Anonymous, however, is unyielding. He stands firm and glares. His eyes bore into Trixie who in turn feels more meek and small than she has ever felt before. Knees quiver as if some invisible weight had just fallen onto her back, her eyes seem to decide on their own that eye contact is impossible, and her voice catches in her throat which instead comes out as a muffled speak. Though she's unsure what exactly she was going to or even could say.

"Do you want to be a great and powerful magician, or not?" Anonymous' voice rolls like the low and distant thunder.

Still unable to speak, she manages a nod.

"Then you need to work for it. Work hard. And that means writing, studying, and practising. Do not waste both our time if you're not commited to this."

"I am," Trixie squeaks.

"Swear it."

"I am," repeats Trixie, this time sounding more like a squawk.

"No," Anonymous' voice softens immediately, "I mean really swear it. This will be your first magic lesson. If this what you truly want, then give it a big swear. There's powerful magic in a swear, you can even command fate with one if you're strong enough."

Closing her eyes, Trixie takes a second to think. While only a second in real time, in the mental space this thought stretches on forever. She recalls her mother and how she works as a Florist with her magic and how she wanted to do something similar. Her mother always enjoyed working with her magic. But that's not enough. The filly fills herself with determination and focuses on her own wants. Trixie wants to be great with magic, to be recognised, amaze, and spread the magic of... Well, the magic of magic. Even though this is what she wants, this isn't really much of goal or at least, it's not enough where she could command fate.

"I swear... That I will learn," she proclaims, her eyes staring back at Anonymous will all she can muster.

Unfortunately, it isn't much. And as two stare at one another, Anonymous softens as the face behind the beard moves into what can only be assumed is a smile.

"Now, what do you know about fire magic?" inquires Anonymous nonchalantly.

It throws Trixie to go from so stern to pleased in a moment's notice. But Trixie does remark that there is something calming about the whole ordeal now that she's on the other side. Eager to not be left behind and to start the lesson, she straightens up.

"Professor Inkwell says a fire is the total sum of oxygen, heat, and fuel. That we need to understand each component before we can create a magical chain reaction of the three--"

"Oh, pish-posh," Anonymous interjects with a dismissive wave of his hands, "How on Equestria you can be expected to learn any magic what with all that science nonsense."

"But, Professor Inkwell says magic is a science--"

"Not another word of this woman. I never want to hear about her blasphemous teachings. She is nothing but a gormless muppet."

Trixie muffles a very satisfying giggle. Professor Inkwell is her least favourite teacher, considering the Professor is the type of teacher to scold any student who doesn't understand her lesson rather than explain it better. Meaning Trixie is often on the receiving end of extra make-up and a lecture.

"I see we're going to have to start from ground zero," Anonymous cracks his knuckles, winces then gives them a shake.

"I could have told you that," Trixie mumbles under her breath.

Anonymous thrusts out a fist and then pokes a thumb upwards where a little flame floats just above his spindly appendage.

"What is fire?"

It feels like Professor Inkwell's lesson had just run through one ear and out the other now that Trixie wanted to recall them. It's not the easiest thing, but she tries fighting off the feeling a sense of failure as she focuses. The feeling grows as her memory goes blank. Eventually, the gargantuan sized creature that is 'Defeat' prevails, having Trixie resign into a poor and wrong answer.

"Hot," she shrugs.

"Yes. Excellent."

The genuine praise in Anonymous' voice sends her for a spin. Trixie blinks her eyes a few times as she tries to read the human wizard for any sign of decipt. The smile grows as his aged eyes twinkle.

"Now focus on that. Think of heat," he instructs as he places a few bits of sticks on the ground, "Just here in fact."

"But what about the oxygen or the fuel."

"Forget that stuff. Look," Anonymous squats down, "There are many ways to do just about anything. Some are better than others, and at times, the better way varies from person to person. This way is called... Oh, I forget the word for it now... I believe it's 'in-two-ition' or something."

"Intuition?"

"Yeah, it means the second way to do something. If we did it your teacher's way, that'd be in-one-ition."

"I don't think that's right," Trixie shakes her head fervently but Anonymous remains adamant.

"Now, start with warm thoughts then turn the temperature up bit by bit."

Wary, and with a raised brow, Trixie eyes him. She wants to argue, any creature that confirmed to any sense of logic naturally would want to argue with another creature thus stupid. But there was something about his confidence in his ways and encouraging gaze that leads Trixie into giving it a go. She thought of beaches in the summer, of hot pies, and dragons. Focusing harder and harder until Trixie realised she was holding her breath.

"It's no use."

"No. You were getting there. Once more."

With a nod, she tries again. She thinks of the desert in summer, of burnt toast, followed by a horde of fire-breathing dragons. She repeats the last image over and over, trying to build on the image too. 

"These dragons are angry... At a town... And turning it to cinders... Fire. Fire. Fire. FIRE!" Trixie thinks with a concentration so hard, her eyes could have fallen out of her head.

The giddy cheers and clapping of Anonymous breaks her concentration. She glares at him then looks at where he points. A little spark. The tiniest flame. Nowhere near enough to light the wood, and just as soon as she notices it, it is snuffed out. But it was something.

Normally a filly who struggles with magic would be pleased with creating at least a spark. It is a good foundation to practice on. But Trixie is an ambitious filly. An ambitious filly with the ability for great arrogance, if only she had the skill to back it up.

"Take what you can get," Anonymous states sagely.

Annoyed by such a statement, Trixie scowls at him.

"That was pathetic," bellows Trixie.

Her pale blue coat was masked by the red flush of anger that had swelled and coursed through her like a hurricane. The anger rocks and builds momentum in her heart in an attempt to build pressure before firing to really cause damage. 

"I thought I did okay."

"You?" Trixie voice is accusing.

"Well, it has been a while since I've taught, but--"

"Not you, that spark. How was justing thinking warm and fiery thoughts going to help me magic a flame?"

Trixie pants in an attempt to catch her breath. Anon sighs as he squats down to pick up the tome.

"Go back to school and write down what you've learned," he says plainly.

His calm tone and unreadable expression disarms her. Now all she was left with was a sense of trepidation.

"You can come back anytime you've got a free moment," he smiles.