//------------------------------// // The Path of Roses // Story: Story Shuffle 2: Double Masters // by FanOfMostEverything //------------------------------// Those who would know Tirek in the future would be surprised had they seen him in his adolescence, especially now. Some might have been shocked that there was a time when his biceps were smaller than his head, or that his beard had begun as a goatee. But others would have been struck by his expression of serenity, worn on a face untroubled by worldly concerns. This lasted for about ten seconds before he scowled and started squirming. An aged female centaur, features creased and hair gone silver, clacked her staff against the stone floor. “Something troubles you, my student?” Tirek cracked an eye open, the better to glare at her. “I come to you to learn the arts of magic and rulership, yet you have me sit still and waste time.” “I would not call it a waste." The old mare folded her legs and haltingly sat beside him, a few joints popping in the process. Her tapering ibex horns glimmered with an analgesic spell before she spoke again. "Meditation imparts many valuable lessons to mages and kings alike.” “Like what? How to sit for hours without getting leg cramps?" Tirek snorted as his glare swept across the unadorned walls of the practice room, barely distinguishable from a natural cave that was somehow several stories above ground. "Shouldn’t I be doing such exercises on Father’s throne?” His teacher gave a warm chuckle. “Not what I had in mind. Patience, on the other hand…” That got a flat look. “Really?” “Really. Patience is a critical skill, both for the mage who must spend countless hours honing his craft and the king who must weigh all factors before making decisions for his nation. A hastily miscast spell could prove ruinous for you, a hastily made decree ruinous for us all.” Tirek crossed his arms and scowled at the floor. “Couldn’t I at least do something while learning patience? Surely repetitious work would give me the same lesson while accomplishing something practical.” His teacher shook her head. “Ah, but that is another lesson, one of the hardest I can teach: The importance of doing nothing.” Several moments of silence passed, Tirek's mouth working silently as he tried to work that out. Finally, he just said, “What?” She nodded. “As I said, very difficult to learn. But there are times when the right move is to remain still. Circumstances where adding another spell, any spell, to the mess will only worsen the situation. Times when the country is running well on its own, and any royal intervention will only disrupt matters.” “For example?” Tirek drawled out. His teacher used her staff to support herself as she got back to her hooves, then moved to the window. She swept a hand across the wasteland that stretched to the horizon. “Consider this land of ours. Tiracun would not be so barren if the centaurs and gargoyles had not tried so hard to exterminate one another, until Discord himself intervened and altered us such that we could not live without one another.” “Could not breed, certainly.” “But if either side of the conflict had chosen to let a slight go, had not continued the spiral of escalation—“ “Then our land would indeed be richer in resources, but poorer by one thinking race." Tirek got to his hooves with enviable youthful vigor, pacing about the room. "You can't seriously expect me to believe that either race would simply strike without reprisal and be satisfied. They would press their advantage, and if the other side did not defend themselves, they would be swiftly overtaken.” His teacher turned to face him, shaking her head. “There is a difference between defense and escalation. Second to knowing how to do nothing is knowing how to moderate your response to what is appropriate." She grimaced. "That said, you do have a point. If only one race or the other wished for peace, it would not have ended well. Reaching out your hand while the other party still grips a sword will only get you a bloody stump. A sad fact, but one nonetheless." She took a deep breath. "Perhaps it is best if we move on for the time being.” Tirek tried to appear aloof, but his rising ears betrayed his interest. “To what?” “I thought we could discuss one of my colleagues. Specifically Sendak the Elder.” The room went silent once more, and Tirek's ears folded back nearly to the point of straining something. He took a step back and said, “Why him?” His teacher smirked. “I am not simply some doddering fool your mother tasked with filling your days with busy work, my student. Putting aside your youthful jaunts to his lair in the Nether Lands, I know you have looked into his writings on magic transference.” “Only as a theoretical exercise,” he said a touch too quickly. “I’m sure." The smirk didn't budge. "But that brings us to another key skill for mages and kings, one Sendak has never learned in all my years of knowing him: Appreciating the consequences of your actions.” Tirek relaxed, furrowing his brow as he considered that. “How do you mean?” “Suppose, and as you said, this is a theoretical exercise, you were to siphon the magic of a unicorn into yourself. What do you suppose would happen?” Tirek raised an eyebrow. “My magical strength would increase severalfold.” His teacher nodded. “Indeed. As would your physical strength, your size, your aggression, and so forth. What else?” After a few moments of thought, he shook his head. “I’m not sure I understand the question.” “For one, consider what will not grow: Your capacity for reason, your sanity, your sense of restraint. And this is all based on Sendak’s own calculations. Drain enough power and you would become a near-mindless juggernaut." The teacher spread her arms to express the hypothetical enormity. "Unstoppable, yes, but mindless, not even cognizant of the reason why you wanted all that power in the first place.” Tirek gulped. “I believe I understand your point about moderation.” “While I am glad to hear it, here, the only way to moderate is to not begin at all." His teacher shook her head. "Especially given the other consequences.” “Such as what?" said Tirek, eyes wide. "A shortened lifespan? Permanent derangement?” She shrugged. “Perhaps. Sendak did not extrapolate that far. No, I speak of how it would erode your morality. Treating another thinking being like nothing more than a wineskin is a monstrous act, and one that inures you to even worse ones. In time, it would lead you to commit atrocities that you would find unthinkable now.” “I see,” Tirek said flatly. “There are also practical concerns. My own studies have shown that power freely given is always more potent than power taken by force." The crystal topping the teacher's staff glinted in the light. "Much is lost in the struggle when taking from the unwilling.” Tirek shook his head. "But who would willingly give away power?” “Perhaps one who had more than enough, to one who wanted for it.” “Perhaps,” he said, his mouth a skeptical slash across his face. “Perhaps most pressingly," said his teacher, "there are the political considerations." She pointed out beyond the horizon. "Do not forget that the sister-queens of Equestria keep the sun and moon in motion, and love each and every one of their ponies as their own foals. They would not take such a violation lightly.” Tirek followed the gesture, stroking his goatee. “Don’t the sister-queens preach a philosophy of Harmony? Surely, if any being were to stay their hand and avoid a..." He looked back at his teacher. "How did you put it? A cycle of escalation?” “A spiral, growing with every turn until it consumed all our homeland. And as you noted, my student, they could not let such an offense go without seeming weak to us and their subjects alike. They are wise and moderate, yes, but they would still demand justice for the crime. Surrendering the one who committed it to Equestria would no doubt satisfy them.” “... Even if he were the crown prince?” The teacher nodded. “Especially then, for think of how he would reflect on the royal family as a whole. Do they surrender their son, or refuse and thus condone his deeds?" She glanced north. "Equestria’s disfavor is a terrible thing, as the vanished polar empire can attest. A king must always be willing to sacrifice for the sake of his people, for he is as much servant as ruler. His duty to his people must always come first, no matter how difficult it may be for him personally.” Tirek scoffed. “I doubt my father would find such a sacrifice difficult in the least.” That got a fond smile from his teacher. “King Vorak sees greatness in you, my student. And it frightens him.” “It does?” A hint of a smile tugged at Tirek's lips. More of a smile graced his teacher's. “Oh yes. His Highness knows he should want what all parents wish, that his child will surpass him. But the strength of your magic, especially when compared to his own lack, means he cannot understand how you will do so. It is that uncertainty that chills his heart, and why your esteemed mother asked me to guide you in a way that would bring glory to both you and our kingdom.” “You’re sure of this?” “In this world where chaos lives in flesh and the stars are guided by a horse, one cannot truly be sure of anything. But I am as certain as I can be.” After another brief silence, Tirek essayed a shallow bow. “Thank you, Mistress Sacanas.” She returned it. “My pleasure, Prince Tirek.” Months later, Sendak returned from his pilgrimage to Equestria, unicorn in tow. Tirek tried to drain the pony one night, and the resulting magic clash allowed the stallion to flee, crushed Sendak beneath stone, and blackened Tirek’s name in his father’s eyes. And the day before that, Tirek had heard the truth from his father’s own lips. There was no awestruck concern over how Tirek would one day rule Tiracun. Vorak was certain that his own son would betray him, all for an alleged “thirst for power.” The next night, once he put the guards posted at his chambers put to magical sleep, Tirek prepared to leave his home and never return. “This is long overdue,” he muttered to himself. “You stand at a crossroads, my student,” came a voice from the entrance to his bedroom. He glared behind him. “I am no longer your student, you old nag.” “Nag I may be, and old," Sacanas said as she stepped inside, "but I still have much to teach if you will listen.” “My patience for your rambling is at an end." Tirek kept throwing together what few supplies he'd need as he spoke. "You know nothing about my father, me, or true power.” “I will grant you the first. Vorak’s heart is colder than I had ever thought or known before today. You and he both showed your true faces earlier.” Tirek still didn't face her. “Oh? And what is my true face, oh great and wise Sacanas?” “One of a son denied his father’s love, who fears he may never gain it and has accepted fear and hatred in its place." Hoofsteps approached him. "One of a centaur desperate enough to do the unthinkable, willing to burn the world to finally feel warm." A thin hand rested on his shoulder. "The path before you holds nothing but suffering, Tirek. You do not have to travel it.” He shrugged off Sacanas's hand, finally turning to her. “I think we both know I do.” She shook her head. “If that is what you believe—“ She held up her staff. The crystal began to glow. At least, it did until a brown streak snatched it out of her grip. “Sorry, Sacanas! Brother, let’s go!” “Scorpan?” said both centaurs. “No time!” Scorpan cried, voice already fading down the corridor. Tirek nodded and sprinted after him. “Right!” And Sacanas hung her head in shame. “May the world forgive this old nag for what she has unleashed.”