The sun rose on the Tenth District of Ravnica. For the fortunate, it was a sight so taken for granted that most slept right through it. For the have-nots, it was barely noticed, countless buildings blocking their view of all but the topmost patch of sky. For those who dwelt in the undercity, it wasn't even acknowledged, their lives governed by cycles long divorced from the star.
For Twilight Sparkle, it meant the photovoltaic cells atop her warehouse laboratory could resume generating much-needed electricity. Like any Izzet magewright, her countless experiments were collectively an enormous energy sink. Since most of the plane had no use for "tame lightning," a power grid was not one of the utilities the League of Izzet maintained, so she was expected to supply what she needed. For most, this meant a cadre of loyal electromancers from the goblin tribe the guild had wholly owned for more than ten millennia, but Twilight strove for self-sufficiency whenever possible. Besides, goblins always gave her the creeps.
The sunrise had nothing to do with her sleep patterns. Indeed, describing Twilight's slumber with words like "patterns" or "habits" would be a criminal misuse of language. She slept when she slept, which was usually every few days, when her body could no longer sustain itself on chemical and magical stimulants. There was simply too much to do to sacrifice multihour stretches of time to sustained inactivity on a regular basis, especially for the personal student of the ancient dragon Niv-Mizzet.
Niv-Mizzet was often called "The Last Dragon." It wasn't strictly true, but giant magical reptiles weren't exactly popping up like mushrooms in a rot farm. Besides, almost all of them were mindless beasts compared to the Firemind, primitive brutes little better than animals.
Young dragons were even harder to find; there were few secure places in hyperurbanized Ravnica where something as large as a dragon could nest, and security was a must. Even the most bestial dragon was made almost entirely of magical reagents, and there were those who would pay more zinos than most of the guildless would see in a lifetime for an intact dragon egg. The risk was outweighed only by the reward.
There were even rumors that Niv-Mizzet intentionally maintained the status quo, both ego and prudence urging him to ensure that no other could challenge his position as the paragon of draconic excellence. Some whispered that he even commissioned assassins to eliminate potential competitors before they could rise to power.
Twilight, however, knew that these rumors were absolute bunk. She had but one counterargument, but it was a very persuasive one. "Spike!"
Her number-one assistant raced to her side. "Yeah, Twilight?"
Twilight took a moment to consider her ward. He was unusual, that could not be denied. Most hatchlings were gangly things, all tail and neck and wing. Spike had been squat and chubby, more like a human baby than a wyrmling. Even now, his form spoke more of baby fat than burning power, resembling nothing more than that same human grown into a toddler, save for his stubby tail, slit pupils, and thick scales. Purple and green, thought the unicorn, hardly the hues that come to mind when one hears the word "dragon."
Spike squirmed a bit under her scrutiny. "Uh, Twilight? You there?"
She shook herself. "Sorry, Spike."
He shrugged. "Hey, I know how it is. Mind going a million miles an hour while the body just sits there."
This got a chuckle. "Yeah. Kind of an occupational hazard." Twilight cleared her throat. "Anyway, I wanted to submit a report."
"Right." Spike pulled a blank scroll and an inkpen from the satchel he habitually wore. When acting as Twilight Sparkle's assistant, it was always a good idea to have writing supplies on claw. Inspiration could strike at any time, without warning. It was kind of a jerk like that. "Ready."
Twilight closed her eyes and dictated the missive, "Dear Lord Niv-Mizzet,
"Today I learned that while infusing raw mizzium with molten bronze and frozen mercury doesn't offset its somewhat delicate crystalline nature, it does make for pretty colors both before and after the explosion.
"Your faithful student,
"Twilight Sparkle"
"Twi-light... Spar-kle. Okay!" With a breath of green flame, the scroll was incinerated, its ashes en route to the Firemind himself.
Twilight beamed. "Great. Now, go warm up the ablutorium. I'd like to get all this soot off before I regrow my coat."
Spike chuckled as he raced off to the main boiler. Eyebrows were something of an unofficial entry fee for the Izzet. For ponies, that cost was a bit heavier.
Some hours, a shower, and a casting of Ferric Oxide's Follicle Stimulator later, there was a knock at the front door. As Spike jogged to the entrance, he called, "Twilight, you have a visitor!"
Her response echoed oddly across the dimensionally distorted space. "If it's my future self again, tell her not to bother me until I'm her!"
The dragon opened the door, offered the visitor a brief wave, and answered, "It's not!"
"Is it Thought Bubble? I was serious when I told him what I'd do to him if he kept trying to convince me that time is cylindrical!"
Spike rolled his eyes. "No, it's your brother!" He gave Shining Armor a put-upon, "see what I have to put with?" expression.
"Really? That was quick. Cover your eyes, guys!"
Twilight appeared in a burst of actinic light, a rather confused smile on her face. "Hey, B-cubed-F-squared. I wasn't expecting you for another month. What brings you here?"
Shining seemed less pleased. "Noise complaints."
"But those are the sounds of progress!" the mare cried. "Of the walls of ignorance falling from the blows of the sledgehammer of inquiry!"
Her brother gave her a flat look. "You may want to use a quieter metaphor, then."
Twilight blinked. "What metaphor? Spike, fetch the sledgehammer of inquiry."
This got a bemused expression. "You mean that club you took with you after you accidentally teleported into that Gruul camp?"
"Sledgehammer of inquiry!"
Spike rolled his eyes, but raced off. As he did so, Twilight turned back to Shining. "So, what, I don't get a warning first? They have to send in one of the district's top arresters?"
Shining sighed and offered a quick, silent prayer for patience. "This is your fifth warning, Twily. The other four times, the arresters were found at random points in a twenty-mile radius of here. And in one case, the day before."
"You still sent him, right? Of course you did; the plane didn't explode."
"Twilight..." Shining groaned.
"What? Sometimes you can't make an omelette without risking a catastrophic paradox," the mare reasoned.
"Remind me to never have breakfast here, then."
Twilight scowled. "That was a metaphor."
"Do you remember what Mom, Dad, and I asked you to promise us before you joined the Izzet?"
Twilight rifled through her long-term memory. Tibor's Laws of Seismic Propogation? No. The average air speed of an unladen Seventh District swallow? No. The Firemind's favorite dromad recipe? No. Potential salvation came into view, dragging a length of petrified wood. "Spike?"
"He hadn't hatched yet, Twily." Shining sighed. "We made you promise not to blow up the planet."
"Oh yeah... I thought you were joking."
Shining facehoofed. Wearily, he said, "At the time, so did I."
"I tell you what; I've been getting behind on my reading. If I focus on that for a few days, will that be enough to get the hoverpopes off my back?"
Shining didn't move his hoof. Slightly muffled, he moaned, "I wish you wouldn't call the Council of the Absolute that."
Spike leaned on the sledgehammer of inquiry. "This is as good an offer as you're gonna get, bro."
"I know..." The stallion lowered his hoof, giving his sister a long, appraising look. "You really promise to just read? Not explode anything?"
"Cross my heart and hope to fry, stick an imp claw in—"
"Stop. Just stop. I don't need to hear my baby sister make a..." Shining shuddered. "A Pinkie Promise of all things. They're debating whether or not that counts as a demonic pact. I'm still going to hold you to this, Twilight."
"I know." Twilight grew serious, almost solemn. "I know. I... I don't want to embarrass you, Shining."
The stallion embraced her. "You could never embarrass me, Twily. Surprise me, sure. Scare the horseapples out of me, far too easily. But never embarrass."
Twilight nuzzled her brother, then called out, "Spike, start assembling the backlog. I have reading to do."
Spike, unlike his mistress/ward/sister figure, did keep a relatively regular sleep schedule.
"SPIKE!"
Unfortunately, that meant interruptions to that schedule were all too frequent.
"Ugh..." The young dragon crawled out from his lair, a lovely little creche surrounded and heated by several steam pipes, manacoils, and dimensional distorters. Twilight was bouncing on her hooves barely five feet away. He gave her a baleful glare that came naturally to all awoken dragons. "What now?"
Twilight floated a scroll and quill into his claws. "Take a letter. This is absolutely vital."
"What, you forgot how to write?" Spike grumbled.
"No! This is a matter too urgent to leave to any medium short of dragon fire."
The hatchling slumped, but rested the quill at the top of the page. "Fine..."
"To the Most August Guildmaster Niv-Mizzet, Paragon of Intellect, Pinnacle of Insight, Crux of the Firemind—"
Spike quirked an eye ridge and looked up from the paper. "Laying it on a little thick, don't you think?"
"This is serious, Spike! I can't risk him glancing at it then leaving it for one of the Nivmagi to file away. And the best way to get a dragon's attention is to stroke his ego." Twilight smirked. "Isn't that right, my number-one assistant?"
"That or wake him up." Still, he chuckled. "Though I guess you have a point. Any other titles you want to tack on after 'Crux of the Firemind'?"
Twilight considered this. "No, better leave it at three. There is such a thing as too much praise, even for Lord Niv-Mizzet. Now:
"My continuing studies of metamagic have led me to discover that we lie on the razor's edge between unfathomable glory and utter disaster. For you see, a magic slipped into the old Guildpact has been triggered, having lain dormant until the document's power was broken. Now ultimate power over the destiny of all of Ravnica is freely available to anyone who deciphers the ancient ritual. Something must be done to ensure the welfare of the Izzet League and of the world itself. I await your quick response.
"Your faithful student,
"Twilight Sparkle"
Spike finished the signature and sent the message. Watching the ashes, he asked, "You really think this is that big?"
"That's what the text suggests." One of Twilight's hind legs began twitching. "I hope he isn't busy. I don't know if I can handle the suspense! Maybe I should get started with something. Spike, go get—"
Spike interrupted the command with a fiery belch, producing the dracogenius's response. He opened the scroll immediately. "Ahem:"
"Give it here!" Twilight's telekinesis tore the text out of his talons. "Speech is too slow for this!"
Spike rolled his eyes and hopped up on the unicorn's back, reading over her shoulder.
Magewright Twilight Sparkle,
I always welcome your counsel, and your contributions to the advancement of knowledge are far greater than you have ever permitted yourself to recognize. However, there are finite limits to how much can be accomplished through purely scholastic research, and I believe you have reached them. There is more to metamancy than reading the works of others. As such, you are to engage in practical field study beginning immediately. Your task is simple: establish mutually positive interpersonal bonds and build upon those you already possess. Report to me your findings on these endeavors in two weeks.
Your mentor,
Niv-Mizzet
Parun and Guildmaster of the League of Izzet
Twilight let the scroll fall to the floor. "Is… is the Firemind telling me to make some friends?"
Spike grabbed the document and read the last few lines, having been interrupted midsentence. "Sounds like it."
Both pondered this for a stretch. Finally, Twilight said, "He already knew, didn't he?"
"Wouldn't surprise me," Spike said with a shrug, already clambering his way back to his sleeping nook.
Ral Zarek stood atop Nivix. As befit the home of Niv-Mizzet and the Izzet guildhall, it offered a most impressive view. Smokestacks and sky reservoirs marked the area as the beating heart of Ravnica's utility infrastructure. Subsonic thrums and faintly vibrating leylines marked it as the research capital of the plane. But for all the glory presented by the vista, it wasn't why Ral stood atop the spire.
The reason manifested above him in a short-lived hypersphere of blue mana. Ditzy dropped for a few feet before her wings instinctually caught her and flapped into a hover.
As the pegasus gathered her bearings, Ral called out to her. "Ditzy."
Ditzy looked down. "Ral." She brought herself down to his eye level, keeping her expression neutral.
"You haven't been home in a while," Ral noted.
"I've had more important things to worry about than guild politics."
"Hmm. So, what brings you back?"
A hint of a smirk snuck its way onto Ditzy's face. "Guild politics," she admitted, "though from the sound of it, they've gotten fairly important."
"There's an understatement." Ral grinned a sly grin as he strode down the steep slope of the spire, electrotraction boots of his own design keeping his footing as sure as if he were walking down a cement path. "I suppose I could get you an audience with the Nivmagus Council, but I certainly won't be able to arrange anything with the Firemind himself. At least, not when there's nothing in it for me..."
Ditzy rolled her eyes as she followed the magewright down the tower. "I have no intention of joining the League of Izzet, Ral."
He paused at this, body nearly horizontal. "Oh? Don't tell me you're going to those fuddy-duddies at New Prahv."
The pegasus sighed. "Look, you do what you do best, and that's crazy lightning science."
"True," Ral conceded.
"I'm going to do what I do best, and that's observe. I'm just here to see how this all plays out. If I have to take a side, I will, but I don't plan on it."
Ral shook his head, clicking his tongue in disapproval as he continued his vertiginous descent. "Oh, Ditzy. You've been away too long. I don't have all the details, but neutrality is most definitely not an option. No, you're going to need to pick a side and do it soon.
"If you don't..." He gave her a mad sideways grin. "Well, there may not be any sides left."
Izzet Guildpony UR
Creature — Unicorn Wizard
Whenever you cast an instant or sorcery spell, untap target Pony, Pegasus, or Unicorn you control.
"A guild is like a herd. Plenty of peer review available the moment you ask."
2/1
Twilight Sparkle, Izzet Prodigy 3UR
Legendary Creature — Unicorn Wizard
Overload costs you pay cost 1 less for each Wizard you control.
X: Copy target instant or sorcery spell you control with converted mana cost X. You may choose new targets for the copy.
"Don't be impressed. I am but a flickering candle compared to the brilliance of the Firemind."
1/3