“Say what?”
I want to sigh, and to repeat myself exasperatedly, but those are numbers one and two on the list of the Top Ten Things Not to Do in front of Princess Celestia. Especially when she’s the one asking.
So instead, I repeat the request in as calm a tone as I can. “We would like to offer them admittance to your school.”
“Why?” she asks.
I almost sigh anyways. “They’ve been consistently turning science on its head for the last year,” I state. “So much that each one is worth over a billion bits, as of last night. We haven’t been able to find any outside source for their ability to do that; it seems they’ve found some new way of thinking that lets them just… Well, fix stuff.
“We have evaluated their individual abilities as well as their group abilities. Twilight has more raw power than ninety percent of your school’s staff, but lacks the finesse to use it properly. As near as we can tell, she’s already destined for your school, whether she knows it or not.
“Lyra seems to be lacking in terms of power, but she hasn’t let that stop her- I hear she’s managed spells that would trouble far more powerful unicorns like her father. She’s also the leader of the group- and there’s a consensus among my Agents that hers is the primary brain behind many of their… innovations, despite a lack of evidence to the effect.
“The other three, Vinyl, Glamour, and Blue, are much more, well, normal. Nothing… well, strange about them, save that the Crusaders’ best work has been done when all five were present, not the times when Twilight and Lyra have gotten together. Vinyl could probably pass the exam with brute force, though she seems to get bored and lose interest easily. Glamour lacks a little on the power side of things, but we think she has the finesse to pass.
“Blue is the only real quandary. She’s stronger than Glamour, but she doesn’t seem to care about her magic, so she’s never really developed it beyond the requirements- and we really don’t expect her to push herself anywhere beyond the graduation requirements.”
“You want me to make an exception to let them in?”
“Uh, no. Well… maybe in Lyra’s case, as her control vastly exceeds that of anypony I’ve ever seen- but the rest, no.”
“So why bring them up?”
“Because they perform better as a group than individually. I believe that, if they’re given a reason, each of the others can pass the entrance exam; we’re also projecting that, if all five receive the preliminary offer letter soon, they’ll have that reason- getting in together- and work for it.”
“So, why the exception for Lyra?”
“We’re fairly certain she doesn’t have the power to pass, even with the amazing feats she’s performed- and she seems to be the source of a lot of the ideas. If she were in your school, we could observe her more directly- and, potentially, guide her and her friends’ creativity. In theory, some of your instructors- or other students- could learn to think like she does, allowing a new era of innovation.”
She thinks for several seconds, before speaking again. “Alright, they’ll be invited. Do you think any of them would be good candidates for my personal student?”
I blink. I was not expecting that.
Though, I suppose, it does make sense. Her last student, Sunset Shimmer, left almost a full year ago. She’s been hunting for a new personal student ever since- but hasn’t found anypony… and here I am, suggesting not one but two prodigies, albeit of different kinds, to invite to her school.
“I… I don’t know,” I state. “Both Twilight and Lyra are possible, I suppose. If you’re willing to take multiple, the whole set might not be a bad idea- but in the end, it’s your decision.”
She nods slowly, a thoughtful expression on her features. “I’ll have to make sure I’m present for their exams, then,” she states.
Four months have passed. The season has come for the entrance exams to my School for Gifted Unicorns.
I have yet to find a new personal student. I need one.
I’m watching an entrance exam right now; Day Court has been reduced to evenings-only for the duration of the exam season so I can watch all of them. Every one of my personal students has been a newly-admitted student at my school. Last year, nopony had any promise, as a personal student. This year…
I checked the exam schedule each day for the first few weeks, praying to see either Lyra Heartstrings or Twilight Sparkle on the list. Even one of their friends- Vinyl Scratch, Glamour Strings, or Blue Chime- would have been a welcome sight! However, not once did I see any of them.
I’m beginning to lose hope. For the last couple days, I haven’t bothered to check the exam schedule, and only half-heartedly watched the exams taking place. I think the current exam-taker has purple fur.
I haven’t told anypony why I always have a personal student, nor why I replace them so quickly when they leave or… Well, only two have died so far, and one of those was from natural causes. They think I’ve chosen to honor them with my knowledge, my experience.
They’re wrong.
Sure, there is some truth in that. The biggest honor they’re receiving, though, is the one they don’t know they’re receiving. I honor them with the task of being my connection to my people. Without somepony to study my every move, I very easily become cold. I lose sight of what matters most to the ponies in front of me, and can quickly lose my benevolence. Once, long ago, I spent a dozen years or so without a student.
That was when I lost Luna.
Her student had been the de-facto ruler for almost ten years while I got my act together. I promised her, when I returned to power, that I would maintain a student. That I would keep a connection to my people, and to my family, so this would never happen again. As her life drew to an end, I helped her gain immortality.
It took all of my power for nine hundred years to complete the transformation. She then spent a few dozen years disguised as some of the more common breeds, learning how the nation had changed. Now, around ten years ago, we planned for and executed the revelation of her true form.
She’s a beautiful princess.
She’s also a people pony, unlike me. She finds it easy to socialize, to get to know her people directly.
Not that she has any, just yet. I’m planning on giving her the Crystal Empire, once it returns- and we find a way to eradicate King Sombra. We don’t yet know when that will be, but we should have at least a couple days’ warning. She’s training with my Royal Guards, in preparation. Pretty sure they’re learning more from her than the other way around, though; she did come from a time filled with war, rather than the peaceful country that is modern Equestria. It’s taken all of my wits, at some points, to use diplomatic pressures to prevent a war. With all my power focused on her transformation, I could not spare the power to protect my soldiers- or to lead them.
I’m beginning to lose hope. As time has gone on, fewer and fewer ponies have possessed the drive to perform, the power to excel. My School for Gifted Unicorns has had to, over time, reduce the entrance requirements.
My criteria for being my personal student have not changed. It took six months for me to find Sunset. I’m afraid I won’t be able to-
I must have jumped. My hooves clatter to a landing on the tile floor, my flanks sliding against it, as my eyes search the room. Something just exploded… but I don’t see any-
Sorry about that. I didn’t see any cause for the explosion. Speaking of which, I think it came from outside anyways.
Then, the examinee shone like my sun. No, brighter than my sun. I layer on the protective spells I use when I seek private time- it’s not often, but I do need it- on the surface of my sun.
It works… barely. Then the light goes away, and I cancel the spells.
I check around the room. The examinee is standing in the middle of the room, staring firmly at the remains of something, under a great big hole in the ceiling. There’s something purple in the middle of the debris.
The parents are off to the side, flexing their limbs as if they were standing for too long, making them a bit stiff. Funny, I don’t remember this exam starting that long ago. I look down at the papers in front of one of my examiners next to me.
“Pass,” the examiner in question states, before glancing at the other two. “Right?”
My peripheral vision spots the other two nodding. “Definitely,” one of them states.
At the same time, I found the name line on the page… and resist the urge to facehoof.
Twilight Sparkle. The page says no cutie mark, but the alicorn in the middle of the room has one.
Wait a minute. Alicorn?
… I daresay I’ve found my next student. And, probably, an assistant or something for her; it seems they gave her the egg test, and she hatched it successfully. I don’t know why there’s such a large hole in the ceiling, but I don’t want to risk my image by asking about it. I did see it, in theory, after all.
Some rainbows blow past the window. Strange.
“I…” the filly begins. “I… I did it. I think.” She looks at the examiners. “I hatched it, right?”
All three nod. “And got your Cutie Mark,” the one in the middle says. “Congratulations, you’ve passed.”
“I got my Mark?” she asks, an excited squeal entering her voice as she looks back at her flank.
Then she holds still for a couple seconds, before she unfolds the wing. “Uhh… is that supposed to happen?”
I step forwards. “It’s an independent blessing,” I state, still trying to force my jumbled thoughts into a cohesive stream. “Congratulations on passing the exam, ascending, and hatching yourself a new friend!”
She blinks, glances at the drake, and folds her wings, turning to bow down to me. “Thank you,” she states.
I smile. “How would you like to, as a fellow Princess, be my personal student?”
Her parents gasp. The examiners breathe a sigh of relief.
She has the most memorable reaction, in my opinion. She leaps backwards, away from me, her wings flaring out uncertainly in an attempt to catch her. She doesn’t flap them, though, so she lands back on her hooves, skittering backwards. “Wha- What? A Princess? No! I’m not a princess!” She then folds her wings back again.
I heave a sigh. “I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice in that regard. By Equestrian law, all Alicorns are automatically princesses. Would you like to study under me?”
“No! I can’t be a princess!” She flees the room. Her mom follows.
“Sorry, Princess,” her father states, bowing quickly. “She’s gotta in shock or something, probably just needs to think about it for a minute.” He gallops after his wife and daughter.
I resist the urge to follow. Her parents are probably right; I’ll have to come talk to her again later, once she’s had a chance to calm down and understand what just happened.
I take a deep breath. The perfect student, and she says no. Hopefully, she revises that answer. I’m not about to force it on anypony.
I’m tempted to retreat to my quarters to wait- but the examiners shuffle their papers for the next examinee, and I see who’s next.
Lyra Heartstrings.
I… I decide to stick around. The reports do suggest she might be an even better candidate, after all.
If she would be, and says no… I’ll very possibly lose my dignity. It’s… a small price to pay. Though, of course, that probably depends on how she says no- if it’s a panicked or surprised no, I’ll have to come back later. If not… Twilight might still say yes.
I’ve never been one to put all my eggs in one basket.
Even though it’ll put my sanity on a hair-thin bridge when I ask Twilight later, if Lyra would work but says- and means- no. So thin that, no matter Twilight’s answer, I’d have to retreat afterwards to recover, to put my mind together.
It’s… A small price to pay. If I run away now, when she would work and say yes, I’d be throwing away a perfect opportunity.
I will stay.
If I give up the opportunity, and Twilight denies, I will soon be unfit to rule Equestria.
If she says no, I will be unfit to rule Equestria. For only a short period, if Twilight says yes.
If… Oh, I can only hope she says yes. If she does, my internal balance can be restored, and quickly. I can continue to rule Equestria as the fair and benevolent ruler that I am… or at least, was before Sunset left.
My examiners call Lyra in.
She… takes forever to show. Her mom shows up briefly to tell us she’s ‘in the zone’, as it were, and will be over shortly. A minute later, she finally arrives, with both parents and a confusing expression.
I watch the exam. Abyss Gazer was right; she is working amazing feats with very little power. So much so that she passes; my examiners don’t have to fudge the results, and I don’t have to make an exception.
Now, this is not the point we tell her that she passed. No- this is the point we pull out the dragon egg, as a sort of placement test. Fortunately, we’ve got a few dozen of the things lying around. The carts are fewer, but we’ve got a few of those as well, so our gofer pushes it in for her.
She gazes at it for a few seconds, before glancing up at us. My examiners nod, so she turns her attention back to the egg.
She paces around it a few laps, horn glowing intermittently, and staring at it all along. She scowls, takes a few steps back, and concentrates, horn flaring.
I watch. Time crawls.
Almost six seconds of this later, a massive, white ring of energy forms around her horn, throwing a shockwave of the same across the room. Nothing big enough to cause damage, but it is certainly startling. I…
… She’s drawing power from the ethereal plane. Alicorns do that as a matter of course, but she’s a unicorn. She shouldn’t be able to even sense it, let alone control it. I… I close my jaw.
She’s not done. She doesn’t just shoot a beam at the egg, as most do. As Twilight probably did.
No. She resumes her circling, muttering to herself. A wireframe duplicate of the egg, nest, and cart surface forms, floating above it, as she goes. Shortly, she’s examining both the egg and her wireframe duplicate, probing at the former with her magic, the wireframe growing constantly more detailed, more complex.
She continues on this for a while, before she focuses entirely on the wireframe. She floats it over next to the real egg, spinning it around as she examines it. A flat space of air shimmers into existence next to her- a projection of a piece of parchment, I realize. A thaumic notebook.
I close my jaw again.
She’s scribbling in it. No quill, no ink, no nothing. Just… making the symbols appear. I notice a pattern, and use a quick visual zoom spell to get a closer look without interrupting her. It’s…
I watch her add ice elements to the basic matrix of a fire spell.
She’s designing a spell to crack the egg.
I… I close my jaw. And use a quick spell to help keep it closed.
She adds time elements to the spell. I… I have no clue what she’s trying to do. I cancel my zoom spell, check that my jaw muscles aren’t all slackened, and cancel that spell as well.
“Alright,” she states suddenly. The wireframe disappears completely, and she turns to the egg, before her horn glows a painfully bright white, rather than its normal gold.
It’s a strange feeling, that spell. It’s almost like the space inside her spell zone is both hot and cold, both young and old, both light and dark. It’s…
My jaw is hanging again. I close it.
The light dies down.
“There!” she states, while my eyes are still adjusting to the dimness. Interesting, my eyes adjust many times faster than standard pony eyes, thanks to my ties to my Sun. “The first ever naturally hatched impossible egg!”
True to her word, when my eyes finish adjusting, there’s another dragon sitting in the nest on the cart, egg fragments surrounding it.
I… I let my jaw hang for a second. It’s been trying to so many times today, I feel like I should let it be. Maybe it’ll stay up this time? I close it, contemplating reenacting my spell… but I can’t do that now, as we’re fast approaching my speaking time.
“Oh, and side effects, apparently.” She shrugs her wings, before folding them, looking at the drake. “Probably comes from cheating like that.”
… I should have enacted the spell.
“P-Pass,” one of the examiners states. “Definitely pass. How did you do that?”
She shrugs. “It’s pretty unique,” she states. “Dad can’t do it.”
I glance at her flank… is that a harp? I glance at my examiners’ papers. It’s a lyre, and she already had it when she came in. I must not have noticed, earlier.
“Let’s not share that, please,” I state, stepping forwards. “Congratulations, Lyra, on passing the entrance exam, ascending, and hatching yourself a new friend!”
She glances at the drake. “I can keep him?”
I blink. “Uh, yes. How would you like to, as a fellow Princess, be my personal student?”
She raises an eyebrow at me. “Do the wings make me a princess or something?”
… She’s certainly not as timid as most ponies, I’ll give her that. My hopes of a yes are going down, though. “Yes, actually,” I inform her. “By Equestrian law, all Alicorns are automatically Princesses.”
She nods. “Definitely don’t want to be sharing my cheat, then.”
I nod in turn. “So, would you like to be my personal student?”
She looks at me. Gazes into my eyes for what feels like forever, though I know it’s only about ten seconds. As the seconds tick past, my hope trickles away.
“What’s the catch?” she asks.
“The… catch.”
She nods. “Yes. When something sounds too good to be true, that’s usually because it is. So, where’s the catch?”
“Uh…”
She sighs. “How would it be different if I said yes?”
I blink. “Well, um, aside from additional training with me, you’d have free access to the Castle Library, Banquet Hall, um… and a nice room to sleep in?” Probably doesn’t help I’ve never thought much of it. My castle staff always takes care of those details for me.
“So, I’d be living in the castle?” she asks.
I nod.
She shakes her head. My hopes fall flat.
“I’m gonna have to say no, then,” she states.