//------------------------------// // The Pillars of Education // Story: The Tyrant Within // by Impossible Numbers //------------------------------// Ten Years Ago “Celestia? Celestia! Pay attention!” The rolled-up scroll bounced off the back of the young unicorn’s head. She woke with a snort and straightened up at once. “Yes, Master! Sorry, Master!” Across the classroom, several students tittered into their hooves. Only young Cinch – sitting at the desk next to Celestia’s – kept her face taut, as if straining not to roll her eyes. Horn aglow, their tutor – her curved horn distinct among the straighter examples around – strode between the two desks and wagged the scroll in front of Celestia’s face. “‘Master’ was how you addressed Star Swirl. When you address me, it’s ‘Sensei’. Understood?” “Yes, M– Sensei! Sorry, Sensei!” Sensei glowered, but she contented herself with a harrumph and strode to the front of the class. “Since you have time to daydream, perhaps you have already learned the tenets of my lesson? Do you have time to teach them to the rest of us?” Celestia grimaced. In truth, she was used to this sort of thing. Master Star Swirl the Bearded hadn’t taken any nonsense either, which was a shame because Celestia had a regrettable tendency to serve up nonsense at least once a class. She still hadn’t finished the essay he’d set them last week. His replacement – Sensei – beckoned her with the scroll. Celestia sighed and scraped her chair back. No matter how many times she did it, she never stopped flushing red from her soul outwards whenever she was called to the front. Frantically, she tried to recall the last few minutes of blah-blah-blah. After an embarrassed and embarrassing silence, she glanced at the tight-lipped Sensei off to one side. No help there. “Er…” she began. “Waxing…” Smack of the scroll on her head. “It’s wuxing! Wuxing!” “Wuxing, sorry! Wuxing… claims that the world is made up of, um, five classical elements… Um…” As she droned on helplessly, Celestia caught Cinch’s eye. Cinch made frantic eyebrow signals to the wall, where displayed was what looked like a diagram of the pony body. Right, right, so something to do with acupuncture? “And these ‘elements’ are?” asked Sensei brusquely. Something in her tone made Celestia realize she was on a hiding to nothing, but she pressed on. “Um… the five elements are earth… fire… water… um, air and… something else, I think? Magic?” Another smack of the scroll. “No! That is the four-element system of the pegasus philosopher Impedimentes! If you had been paying attention, you would know that Wuxing philosophy was described by the unicorn philosopher Planet Wanderer as a collection of processes of change, not of crude ‘elements’. And the last two are symbolized by metal and wood, not air and ‘something else’! Now describe how these five phases relate to the Five Virtues of the Great Sage Confusing.” “Er…” It wasn’t fair. This stuff hadn’t even been on the syllabus seven days ago, and already she was supposed to be an expert? Lazily, Cinch raised a hoof. Sensei waved her down. “No, no. Let us find out how much ‘Sensei Celestia’ has learned.” “Er…” Celestia made a stab at it. “Those virtues are, um, growing… that’s wood, obviously… er, drive, moderation… summer…? I think…? And something to do with harvesting…?” The class giggled. Sensei pointed to Celestia’s desk. “Sit down!” Once Celestia had retreated gratefully, Sensei paced back and forth, swiping the scroll in mid-air as though painting her words. “Though I would not be so quick to laugh, if I were any of you. Learning the essence of reality is not easy. Many besides me would dispute these claims, dismiss them as yet more speculation among speculations. There are many theories as to how energy and matter interact in this world. I can hardly expect any of you to master the tenets of but one philosophy in a week. Yes, Cinch? You wish to speak?” Unusually, Cinch stood up before speaking. Some of the young mares tittered behind her back, but Celestia recognized an old unicorn tradition when she saw one. “If I may, Sensei?” Cinch bowed low, then cleared her throat – pure theatrics, Celestia suspected. “The Five Virtues roughly correspond to the natural cycles of nature, of creation and destruction, and of the interaction of ponies with their environment in the process known as Feng Shui. The first principle of ‘wood’ or ‘tree’ is indeed growth, as represented by the rebirth of spring. Followed by the second principle of ‘fire’ as vitality, as represented by the prime of spring and the entry into summer…” At this point, Celestia tuned her out. It was like watching a textbook talk. Moodily, she stared out the window at the bright sky beyond, where the sun hung invitingly like the face of an indulgent mother. Oh, how she longed to throw herself into the winds of freedom! If only she could fly, soar, plunge into the eternal warmth of that lake of fire like the legendary phoenix, she’d – Sensei’s scroll bounced off her muzzle, gently this time. Just enough to wake her up to Cinch’s lecture. “…and that is how they relate to the energy flow in the pony body, quod erat demonstratum.” With a smug smirk, Cinch seated herself again. “Excellent memory. Near-perfect description.” At this, Cinch’s face twitched. Just for a second. “And to make sure it sinks in,” continued Sensei, with a somewhat impish grin, “you shall all write down the tenets as Cinch has just described them. Now.” Most of the class gave a start and ferreted around for quills and ink bottles. Celestia waited for Cinch to start, then glanced over at her writing before copying what she saw. Sensei, who despite only filling in for seven days was in some respects a quick learner herself, casually strolled between them and forcibly turned Celestia’s head away from Cinch’s desk. Celestia got the hint and struggled as best she could, trying now to ignore the lure of the open window and the imagined fields of grass outside… “Once again,” drawled young Cinch, adjusting her spectacles, “I see you failed to ‘hit it off’ with Sensei.” Celestia levitated some weights and kendo sticks off the mat, then threw them aside. She didn’t even raise her head above her withers. “Today, and the day we first met,” she grumbled, then put on a cheery voice. “‘Hey, Sensei, I heard your eastern name translates to ‘Meadowbrook’, are you related to Mage Meadowbrook?’” Cinch did her best to look stern. “‘No relation! Now stop asking!’” she barked in uncanny imitation. They both smiled – Celestia grinning, Cinch allowing a peek of jocularity on her lips – and laughed together. Then they turned back to the rest of the room. A week ago, they’d called it the school’s magic duelling chamber. Under Sensei, it had been redubbed the Dojo of the Ancient Art of Alikondo, allegedly a fighting philosophy derived from the ancient legend of Princess Alicorn herself. Normally, students would be lined up along one side of the mini-moat by the bamboo decoration, and two would be selected to step over the water and onto the mat to fight. Supervised, of course. Technically, the dojo was open at any time. Celestia liked to use it on her own terms, i.e. to let off steam after a bad day. She used it often. “Kinda wish I’d met her, though,” Celestia said, trotting on the spot before stretching a leg to warm up. “Or any of the Pillars other than Star Swirl.” “Hm,” said Cinch doubtfully; she wasn’t bothering with stretches. “I could have sworn you had. What about those three afterschool visits last month? The first one? Everypony turned up then.” “Remedial class.” Celestia smiled painfully. “And the one after that?” “Detention.” “And the one after that?” “Remedial class, then detention.” Cinch sighed and raised her muzzle to the ceiling. “One wonders you achieve anything at all. And can’t you do something about your mane? Presentation is important.” “Right. And you go to sleep with that knot, do you?” They regarded each other without much hope. Cinch had red wine and taffeta pink in her mane, locked firmly in a prim and proper bun so tight it could withstand an earth pony’s kick, whereas Celestia’s hairy mass of cotton candy haystack was said to have eaten combs, as well as half the magic of the unicorns wielding them. Tutting, Cinch stepped delicately into position. “Queen Berry’s rules, I take it?” Celestia tittered: she already stood in her position opposite. “How else? Don’t answer that,” she added when she saw the textbook lips move. A nod each. “Aha, but first…” Cinch turned to a couple of young colts waiting their turn on the side. “…how about an announcement to the school?” Surprised, they jumped to action and blundered off. Celestia rolled her eyes. “Always the audience, huh?” “Yes. Let everypony see us in action. Reputation-building is half the pleasure. And it keeps you fair, of course.” “You wound me.” But Celestia chuckled despite herself. She loved putting on a show. As if they didn’t have a reputation already. Within minutes, the sides of the dojo and the viewing galleries above were thronged with eager, chatting students. A few teachers showed up too. Fights between Cinch and Celestia had become legend at this point. Cinch acknowledged them all with a polite bow. Celestia waved and called out to a few familiar faces in the crowd. Overhead, some enterprising young colt rang the gong. Both combatants faced each other, allowing the traditional minute for tranquil meditation. Celestia used it to figure out which spell to use. Then, to business. Celestia spread her gait in the typical attack stance. Cinch merely conspired to look bored. Silence fell. Deep within Cinch’s sleepy snow-white mask, the cold eyes froze, locked onto Celestia’s shimmering horn. Celestia narrowed her own eyes like blast doors, lowering her head. Burning bloodlust pumped through her rich arteries. Silence began to rise. Then… Cinch’s horn hummed as she cast the first spell. From the moat, ribbons of water arced up and swung by, snaking through the air around her. Some compacted, hardened, became an ice shield. One strand lengthened, sharpened, became a javelin. Celestia fired. She whirled, somersaulted, flipped sideways, and spun. With each move, a fireball surged out, curved, spun around her like comets around a sun. Several in the audience “oohed” and “aahed”. One fireball launched. The shield swatted it aside. Unlike Celestia, Cinch didn’t move a muscle. Her javelin retaliated. Two fireballs knocked it side-on, one at 90 degrees, the other till it faced the other way. A third enveloped it, burst, fired the javelin back like a flintlock bullet. Ice met ice. The javelin shattered. The shield cracked. Cinch’s eyes widened, gave up the pretence: she had to sidle out of the path of the next fireball – it blasted her shield asunder and went right through, surrounded by shards. More water slithered out of the moat as reinforcements. More fireballs evaporated them. Back and forth, back and forth. Ribbons of water smashed into blocks aflame. Ice shattered against the heat waves. The longer they fought, the more the unicorns changed tactics. Cinch stopped trying to minimize her movements and had to leap wildly just to avoid one streaking blast after another. Celestia calmed, stumbled less, became an immoveable statue of her own. Cinch’s bun slid out of place. Grunting with the effort, she ducked a blow and cast a new spell from the tip of her ground-tapping horn. Five shadows budded off, crept along the mat, closed in on Celestia’s hooves, wrapped them tight, held her in place. “Nice,” said Celestia. “You learned that from Stygian way back?” “Mm,” replied Cinch. “His theories on dark magic proved fascinating.” “Impressive.” That was when Celestia’s horn blazed pure white; beams of light speared each tendril of shadow, evaporating them. “Almost had me there.” She lowered her horn. Her next spell caught the surrounding air, and the sudden winds threw themselves across. Cinch barely had time to gasp. The burst of hurricane knocked her off her hooves and beyond the moat, where she landed hard on her rump. As usual, the whole thing took less than a minute. Cheers broke out at once. A quick cheeky bow and a few blown kisses later, Celestia galloped and leapt over the moat to help Cinch up. “You OK?” she whispered to her friend’s back. For an instant, Cinch’s teeth ground together. When she turned around, however, Celestia was not fooled by the calm, collected mask now being played. “It seems we’ll all have to get up earlier to match skills with you, Celestia.” “You’re kidding? I must be slipping. Fifty-nine seconds is poor for me.” “If only you could apply that skill to academia in general, you’d be unstoppable.” “Ha, you may be right…” To a backdrop of stamping applause and whoops, they bowed their heads and knocked horn against horn, a mutual mark of respect. As tradition decreed, of course, even if it had only been tradition for a week. “Good game,” they both said. Then they both gave a sigh, a rub of ears, and a shared giggle on their way out. Back into the non-jinxed hurly-burly of real life.