He should not have fallen asleep reading.
He turned as far as his spine would let him go, trying to crack it and relieve some of the tension he’d gained from his horrendous sleeping position. Not only had he fallen asleep practically on the book, meaning that the marks from where the edges of the book had stabbed into him were very clearly visible for the time being, he’d fallen asleep halfway off of his bed entirely, with his head and arms trying to find rest any way they could, leading to a terrible crick in his neck, and a devastating pain in between his shoulders. He made one last vain attempt at stretching before simply giving up on it and going downstairs, expecting that Kipkirui would at least be awake to complain to. As he climbed down the rungs of the ladder that connected the second floor to the floor below, he realized that Kipkirui was nowhere to be seen, not even being at his desk like he typically was at the early hours of the morning. Spike checked the clock, making sure that he hadn’t woken up at some ridiculous hour, but was proven wrong in that theory by the clearly displayed 7:00 AM on the clock. He muffled a groan as he accidently turned his head the wrong way, the crick in his neck sending a sudden wave of pain through his shoulder.
Where was Kipkirui?
The satyr was consistent in a few things, and one of them was always letting Spike know when he was heading out, meaning that he at least had to still be inside the house. Spike’s first thought was the green room, and just as he walked back to the ladder and climbed the first two rungs, he choked an inhale as the bookshelf beside him swung open, startling him into falling off the ladder. Out walked a slightly glowing Kipkirui, who was wearing clothes that Spike had never seen before. Something akin to a cloak, draped over his left shoulder, and wrapped over the top of a fancy, full length purple dress. He was also carrying a small package of some kind, wrapped in simple brown wrapping paper.
“Why are you glowing?” Kipkirui raised an eyebrow at him.
“Did you fall off the ladder?”
“Not important. And yes. But why are you glowing?” Kipkirui reached down and helped pull Spike up.
“How much of that book did you get through?” Spike narrowed his eyes.
“You’re dodging the question.” Kipkirui shrugged. “Fine, I got through a lot of it, or at least half. I don’t think I got to any of the monsters, but I finished most of the gods, so-”
“Honestly, the monsters aren’t that important. Really, all you needed to read was the section on gods. Anyway, here.” He handed Spike the parcel he’d been carrying, before walking over to his desk, and pulling out a small obelisk of some kind. A tapering, black tower, topped with an amethyst pyramidion, and covered in gold lettering. He waved for Spike to follow him to the counter island, and Spike did so, genuinely confused on where all of this was going. Kipkirui wasn’t much of a secret keeper. Granted, Spike had known him for about a week, but for the most part, he seemed like he never intentionally withheld information, and answered questions to the fullest extent possible. This wasn’t exactly in character for him, regardless of circumstance. As Spike sat down at the counter, Kipkirui’s weird glow had yet to dissipate, sticking in the air around him like rim lighting. “I didn’t sleep much, or at all, last night, so excuse me if my explanation gets a bit wonky in places. That said, this is already hard to explain when I’ve slept well and have had time to write out a script, so it’ll probably be a little wonky even if I explain it pretty well.” Kipkirui tapped the letters along the side of the obelisk, and shouted for the lights to dim. The amethyst rose from the top of the pyramid, and Spike watched intently, as the amethyst projected a three dimensional image into the air.
“Let’s begin with the simple part.” The amethyst projected three separate images, three symbols, something akin to the house crests you’d see with royal families in Canterlot. “Magic, as we know it, draws from three sources. Source one, the Pneuma, or spirit.” The first of the three, a rhombus shape looped by circles, moved to the front. “This is the magic we see in Unicorns, where the outward manifestations of it can be changed rather than just being innate, compared to number two, Soma, which is the magic that basically everything else has.” The second, a heart wreathed in whisps and sparkles floated to the front, glowing a deep emerald green. “The magic that makes Earth Ponies so strong, allows dragons to breathe fire, and lets pegasi shape the weather counts as Soma. It’s innate, and although it can be practiced, it’s not particularly manipulatable. It does what it needs to do. The third form is Spitha.” The third and final symbol, something akin to interlocking horns wrapped around a sort of minimalist depiction of a sprouting plant. “This is the magic that Satyrs use, the kind that comes from an understanding of the world’s innate magic, and the way the gods have affected the world. And that’s where things get tricky.” Kipkirui stretched, and yawned.
“Gods? Like in the book?” Kipkirui nodded, and Spike blanked. “So you’re telling me that gods seriously affected the world in a way that lets you draw magic from it. That implies that they were real.”
“Perceptive. Present tense though.” Spike’s eyes went wide. “I hate to drop a revelation like that on you and then say hold on, but neither of us have eaten breakfast and I’m falling asleep here. Do you mind if I at least make something hot so I can chug it and shock myself awake?”
“Oh, uh, sure. I’m just gonna… sit here and have a moment.” Kipkirui nodded.
“I get that.”
“Okay, let’s get one thing squared away. Most of what you read in that book wasn’t true. The gods were and are dramatic, and they enjoy reading ridiculous stories about themselves. For the most part. Sometimes depictions of Jupiter…” Spike shivered.
“Don’t remind me. The myth of Leda is horrible.”
“Tell me about it. Of all things, a swan. That said, the gods and their forebears, being the titans, giants, and primordials are all on relatively good terms. There are some feuds, like Minerva and Ares, Demeter and Pluto, but for the most part, every conflict the Gods have had boils down to an argument you’d have with your sibling over the last cupcake.” Spike gave him a disbelieving look, eyebrow raised.
“That’s not the part I’m having trouble believing. So you’re telling me that a bunch of stories and myths are real, and that they had most of those myths written because they like seeing how people perceive the gods? That’s insane!” Kipkirui raised an eyebrow in a half smirk.
“Remember Nightmare Moon?”
“How do you know about that?”
“I own a lot of books. Plus, if the night sticks around a little too long, you’re gonna wonder what’s holding up the sun.” Spike pointed at him.
“That’s another thing! How could Apollo and Celestia both exist? Wouldn’t they fight each other or something for control?” Kipkirui waved him off.
“Apollo and Artemis are surprisingly willing to designate their responsibilities as the Sun and Moon mostly to Celestia and Luna so they can focus on their other duties.” Kipkirui scowled at his empty mug of tea. “In any case, I assure you, they’re very real. You could meet them if you wanted to, and they were willing.” Spike was officially entering the information overload territory. His eyes screwed up, and he rubbed at his temples as he tried to stave off the headache that always came with too much new information at once.
“Okay, well, can we circle back around to why you were glowing? I know you said it was related to all this, but I want to get through that question before I learn any more life changing things.” Kipkirui winced.
“This is still pretty life changing. Remember how I said you could meet the gods? Yeah, if they like you enough, they sort of become a Patron? It’s like a sponsor, but with magic.”
“I’m assuming you have a patron then?”
“Three actually. Demeter and Pan are the regular ones, but I’m studying Apollo’s gift of prophecy.” Spike took a deep breath.
He did not know how much more of this he could take. Ever perceptive, or as he now knew, possibly just reading the future, Kipkirui walked around and patted him on the shoulder.
“I get that it’s a mess. When I first started learning I felt like I was losing my mind. Still, if you want to take a break from this, open your present.” Oh, right. The parcel. Spike stared at the twine wrapping on the box as his lip subconsciously curled. It’s just one gift. No hoarding, no mess. Spike suddenly lunged at the package, simply ripping it open in the hopes of locking himself in.
It was a small, silver globe of some kind. It was light, only around a quarter of a pound, and when placed upon the small platform it came with, it floated, and emitted a soft purple glow. It was just a light, but a fancy one, and according to Kipkirui, it could do a few other things too. But, as much as Spike wanted to explore the thing’s functions, he had enough information to process, and he did not need more. He spent the rest of the day in a routine of reading through the book on gods and monsters, reading through the associated stories and wondering just how people could come up with all of that. Sure, godly influence, but at least some of it had to have no gods involved.
Eventually he asked about the bookshelf.
Kipkirui’s response was incredibly exuberant, and Spike briefly wondered if Kipkirui had a secret lab that he hadn’t been told about.
Good gods it was so much more.
Behind the bookshelf was a staircase that led impossibly far down, and opened to a room possibly larger than the first floor of the Satyr village. The air was crisp, like standing in a grove of trees, likely because he was. Somehow there was a small forest in its entirety contained in the pocket dimension Kipkirui called home, irrefutably the doing of the Satyr as he stared at the room in pride. He took a deep breath, and the glowing returned.
“Welcome to my paradise, Spike. The Grove of Hope.” Spike gaped.
“Oh my goodness.” There were no words but those. This was far beyond the scope of anything he’d seen or experienced before, and he stared in unabashed awe as the incredible forest responded to Kipkirui’s very presence, the trees in the center parting to reveal a beam of glowing, golden light.
“Say Spike,” Kipkirui began. Spike looked at him, still in a state of near shock. “How would you like to meet a god?”