It wasn’t long before the Didact found himself being carried towards the infirmary he started the day in. Twilight rushed as fast as she could with the Didact slumped over her shoulder with one arm around her neck. Luckily, Applejack was able to help her, the remainder of his weight resting on the earth pony’s back without complaint.
The two princesses and prince were with them too. Princess Luna and Prince Vulcan took to the sides, using any magic they could to make sure the Didact was alright, while Princess Celestia took to the rear, wings splayed, expediting their progress.
With haste, Twilight pushed open the doors to the infirmary and made their ways towards a usable bed, while a confused Crescent Star stared at them from his own. The room quickly filled with chaos as Twilight flung the Didact onto the sheets and frantic nurses worked their way over to help.
“Will somebody be able to help him?” Twilight asked. Her voice was as frantic as the room.
“Do not worry my Faithful Student.” Celestia’s words were calming, much like how they were suppose to be, but her tone only showed that the teacher shared in the pupil’s worry. “The doctors will to the best they can.”
“Fear not, Twilight Sparkle.” She glanced towards the Lunar Princess. “We will be able to aid the Didact, any way we can.”
Twilight nodded and slowly lowered herself onto a bed opposite of the fray. With her head on the pillow, her lower legs still hovered over the floor. “Twi’,” she heard a careful voice, “Is that really you?”
She glanced over to see both Applejack and Crescent Star staring at her shocked. “In the newly reformed flesh,” she replied.
“By golly,” Applejack said with a gaping jaw. “Twilight, y’all look amazin’. I ain’t seen ya this stunnin’ since the Gran’ Gallopin’ Gala.”
“The Didact- that’s what Vicar told me he was called- he made myself his species and was teaching me some basics at request of Princess Celestia. That was, at least, until...”
Twilight paused, hesitant to say anything more, prompting Crescent Star to ask, “Until what? Twi’ what happened?”
The former unicorn reluctantly told her story to them, the royals nearby listening expectantly as well. She explained what the Prophet, Rassilon, said about his plan of genocide and conquest and how the Didact stopped and contained an explosion to save them both before passing out, sparing no detail.
“This being,” the Solar Princess restated with a shocked expression, “this being stopped a nuclear explosion?”
Twilight nodded stupidly and Crescent Star looked over at the being on the infirmary bed. “So, Vicar’s real name is Didact... it’s certainly fitting for one of his standard.”
“Didact isn’t his name,” Twilight stated, “it’s more of a title. He said his name before, and Rassilon stated it as well, but I forgot it both times; I was too much in awe to pay any real attention.”
“No matter,” Princess Celestia said, “Whoever he is, the Didact seems to be a very, very powerful magician. I only hope he’ll be alright.”
Princess Luna lifted her eyes and focus from her magic, turning towards her older sister. “Whatever Didact did proved to be quite the show. He is suffering from severe magic exhaustion: nothing we can’t fix or heal.”
Crescent Star stared down at the Didact, his form lacking the previous intimidation from yesterday. Black liquid dripped from his nose, sticking to the skin and pooling in a large area around the corners of his mouth, as if his nose was bleeding. “If he really is as powerful as you say, I never would have assumed he was so easily susceptible to magical exhaustion.”
“Perhaps his recent case of amnesia still has him weakened.” Twilight rubbed her eyes clumsily with her palms. “I hope he will be okay... if he’s right about these creatures, then he might be our best hope.”
“You really like to sell yourself short Twi’...” Confusion filled the air as their attention shifted between the ponies as to who spoke. Their eyes finally rested onto Didact, who, much to their surprise, began to slowly lift himself upright. Luna raised a hoof, trying to impede his progress. “Easy Didact. We helped you a little, but thou still suffer from magical exhaustion.”
The Didact grunted and gently pushed her hoof aside, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He sniffled, the sound of liquid being taken in startling him at first, before he began to wipe the liquid from his nose with his sleeve. “I certainly feel desaturated, but it’s been a long time since the last one. Nonetheless,” he sighed, “I can’t be resting, I have work to do. There are Inferi currently plotting to destroy your world and I can’t let them do that. My magic should replenish within the hour and Twilight still needs to learn about hers.”
“Didact,” Luna’s voice was clear and gentle. “Thou needs rest; you’re no good injured and powerless. Please, lay back down.”
The Didact looked at her and the group contemplatively. Several times, he blinked rapidly, as if to think about what he could do, but he nonetheless relented with a brief, “Fair enough.”
He lowered himself while Princess Luna beamed at him with a bright smile, magically adjusting the pillows and sheets under him for comfort. “Just rest, Lord Didact, and thou can work later. Without your power, we fear you may not be able to help like you plan to.”
The Didact glanced at her as he reached under his coat at his chest. “What gave you the idea I’m out of power?” He stretched his shoulders and smiled. “I may have certainly have had my power drained but I can assure you that I’m definitely not out..”
“Didact, no magician can replenish his or her resevoir that quickly.”
The Didact frowned. “Princess Luna... you’ve never met a magician on my level before... tempore statur...”
The break of existence was clean, the Didact simply disappearing from where he laid the moment before: no flash, no shuffle, no sound. One moment there, one moment gone.
The sense of confusion was both immediate and contagious. Applejack and several nurses looked amongst each other, trying to see if anypony had any idea what had happened. The unicorns present, Crescent Star especially and even Twilight, began to feel lightheaded, a sense of vertigo streaming over them like a gentle wind. The princesses and prince keeled over violently, vertigo seeming to rush them like a blow to the stomach.
“What in tarnations jus’ happined here?” Applejack asked, “Where did the Didact go?”
“He can’t just disappear,” Crescent Star mustered through gritted teeth. “He didn’t use magic either: I didn’t feel any magical signature to warrant such a feat.”
“It’s pointless to argue with what happened Star.” Twilight gripped her head to try and stop the ringing. “We should focus our attention on finding him now that he’s gone.”
“Well how can we do that?” he protested. “He can be Tartarus-knows-where!”
Twilight groaned, frustrated. “You know, sometimes I can forget how pestering and annoying you can be Crescent Star...”
“And I can forget how crazy and delusional you can be Twi-”
Crescent Star found himself being cut off by a flash of light and a whoosh of air. The room fell silent as everypony looked over to where Princess Celestia previously stood.
***************
The Didact hummed away as he rummaged skillfully through the dark and damp cellar. He never imagined how exciting it was to regain your memory after a period of amnesia: half a week of wandering thoughts and forgotten realities. It was as if a curtain had been lifted from his hindsight and rhetoric, the whole world taking on a higher clarity.
It had been repeatedly noted to him that he was no ordinary human being. Anyone who’d be in the same room as him for a simple five minutes could tell that though. In the end, any and all could learn to sum him up in any of these five simple words: cynical, charming, romantic, military, smartass...
As Didact, Lord of Admirals and Master of Generals, he could put his chosen education to practice: military knowledge. It made sense too. On a blissfully unaware Erde-Tyrene, he was only a cadet: a student at the prestigious United States Military Academy. Little did anyone there realize that he was a magician of immense power: Grand Commander of the Paradox Agency, and protector of the universe- he who had witnessed that which was both awesome and terrifying, both glorious and monstrous.
In the end, it was tolling and problematic to stay so high on the ladder. He was still a “mortal” (used lightly) human being- a twenty year old with a consciousness almost twice that to top it off...- and even he needed to escape from everything. At an earlier time, he could say he would have escaped through God, but a crisis of faith that had started long ago had him doubt whether one even existed. No, instead he had another hobby that helped him escape: the collection of wine.
As Didact, he was notorious across the galaxy for his enjoyment and critic of any and all wines. Wine was his hobby, and he enjoyed every bit of it with conservative pleasure and taste.
Which brings us to the Didact’s current situation: rummaging through Princess Celestia’s private wine cellar looking for a notable bottle to keep and/or drink while humming one of his favorite songs.
♫ Come in here, dear boy, have a cigar.
You're gonna go far, fly high,
You're never gonna die,
You're gonna make it if you try;
They're gonna love you. ♫
The princess certainly held a prestigious collection. A Fillydelphian White, 984? Not old enough to warrant the rich enough flavor he always searched long and hard for. A Manehattan, 973? If it was anything like he was picturing (and it generally was with the occasional exception) then it might be too sour or tart. One alone caught his eye: Canterlot Diamond Red, 924. The label read rich, crisp and sweet with age: a wine of his standards if there ever was one.
“An excellent pick. You certainly have a taste for great wines...”
The Didact cleared his throat as he further examined the label, not so much a glancing at his complementor. “I see you found my IOU.”
“I did,” Celestia replied, lifting a scrap of paper with magic. “Celestia: I owe you one bottle of wine. Hope you don’t disappoint, Didact.”
“Well I can certainly complement you, Your Serene Highness, because you certainly didn’t disappoint. I must apologize about the spell back there. I only made it powerful enough to stop time for only a span of 47 seconds but I figured it would have made some effect to you and the unicorns. Magi, with their natural connection to the magical fields might feel a gentle wave of vertigo the first time they experience it: 47 seconds of natural, subconscious straining to reconnect with the lost field. With a bond to a celestia object, however, I presume the withdrawal would be far greater.”
Celestia stared at him kindly. “I admire you for your persistence and your strong will, but I must tell you to still come back with me. This isn’t about whether or not you’re a powerful magician. This is about whether or not you’re willing to let us help you.”
“I can’t,” He said plainly. “I understand that you want to help but I can’t let your nation get involved. If I do, then you’d simply be dragged into an endless vortex of seething politics and technicalities. Believe it or not, the Church doesn’t see you as an enemy. I am the enemy. If it stays that way, then they will ultimately leave you be and would focus their plans on dealing with me and only me.”
“And where would that leave you?” she questioned.
“I can take care of myself: always have and always will.” He took his chosen bottle and stashed it into his coat where it disappeared via magic.
“But isn’t there anyone who can help you from your world?” Celestia kept pressing, not wanted to simply let him be. “I presume there are more magicians and people who can...”
“You’re right, but I’m on my own right now. I can’t make contact with anyone from my universe.” He turned to her. “But it’s no matter. There’s a reason why I’m in charge and why I’m the best of the best.”
“But that doesn’t mean you should do this alone. This Church of Unitology has stolen four of the six swords owned by each of the titled members of my family. Whether you like it or not, we are involved in this.”
The Didact paused. Celestia’s point was valid: the Church did specifically take Vulcan’s sword by turning Celestia’s own prism spell against her. He saw Kaius hand Celestia’s and Luna’s over to his aid and run off with them before they could do anything. The clerics were purposefully taking those swords for something... and it all served as more pieces to the puzzle.
But there was still the matter of her. When the Didact looked at her, he did not see an alicorn: princess of the sun and leader of a million souls. He saw her humanity... the very bias that gave the genomorphic spell the ability to work in the first place with anything and anyone. His mind’s eye saw her as, and only as, a human: as if the pony he physically saw was a spectre or a costume. But it was what he saw of her that worried her. He saw regality: fair sun kissed skin which has never seen a problem or blemish. He saw a tall woman who stood 5’11” in a white dress that she had chosen specifically to show off the amazing curves from her waist and chest. He saw makeup: lipstick and eyeshadow. There was nail polish and manicures, high heels and sun shaped earrings. Violet eyes that knew only kindness and love stared back at him. Admittedly, as it was his own bias, he could not complain. Were this another situation, he would see her beauty as desirable and would love to spend more time with her. But this wasn’t another situation. Rassilon’s clerics had no appreciation for beauty. His soldiers had no desire for love or kinship. They would tear her apart and leave nothing behind. Then he would still be alone in this mission, but with one more on his list of the dead.
“There is nothing you can say or do that would make me change my mind about coming with you Didact.”
He snapped out of his train of thought to find that she was staring at him sternly. “We both know that you know how powerful of a magician I am,” she continued. “While I may not know the extent yours and cannot compare therefore, I’m still experienced with over a thousand years of magical prowess. There are only three magicians who are better at magic than I on this planet, and all three of them are related to me directly.”
The Didact slowly nodded. Again, her point was valid, but that didn’t change the facts. He needed something that could ameliorate his doubts.
“Prove it,” was the only thing that came to his mind.
“Pardon?”
“Prove to me your ability as a magician.” The Didact cracked his knuckles. “I challenge you to a Bellum Magia.”
“A Bellum Magia?” To say she wasn’t taken aback by his challenge would be a lie. A Bellum Magia, simply known to many as a magic duel, has for many centuries served as a fight between unicorns who wanted to test whom was the better at the magical arts. Simply put, it was a gentlecolt’s competition, with common rules and understandings made between the two parties before either move was made. It was common practice to continue the duel until one of the parties couldn’t continue... one way or another...
She found herself parroting her previous words before adding, “Are you sure you want us to compete in a Bellum Magia?” She reflexively cleared her throat, trying to think of anything better to say.
“Yes, I am. If you’re powerful enough, then the clerics might become discouraged to try and go after you and your colleagues, but I can only assess that if you’re in danger and you don’t hold back...”
Celestia looked at the Didact confused. “But Didact, I’m not in any danger here. This is the deepest part of the citadel that not many know about...” she paused and waved a hoof at him, “at least until you found out...”
The Didact held back his emotions, listing off his words like from a cold assembly line. “You are right in the sense that this is the deepest part of the citadel, but I must unfortunately deliver the news to you, Your Serene Highness, that you are in danger...”
In the blink of an eye, the Didact had spanned the distance of the room and raised a wicked-looking sword, swinging it across the air in a large circle. The princess had little time to react, but when she did, her horn flashed with yellow light and manifested a shield, which collided with his sword and stopped its arc.
“Didact! What are you-” Before she could finish her sentence, he swung his left arm up and, with an explosion of magic, pushed out against her shield. Rather than breaking it, the force pushed her back towards the far wall, where her body contacted with the stone and she lost her concentration.
With a flutter of her wings, Celestia got back onto her hooves, shaking the stars from her head. She looked up from the wood “padding” that softened her hit against the wall and gazed at the Didact. He wasn’t coming towards her, instead resolute to simply stand and stare at her. He seemed... darker, in appearance, the shadows of the dim room hiding several of his many defining features from this distance. His artificial eye shined in the dark: an eerie red glowing... staring back at her.
He was empathic of his resolve to test her right now, and nothing Celestia did could convince him otherwise. For the first time in almost a millenium, the princess was scared... a primal fear, which stuck itself to the back of her mind and refused to unclamp itself.
The Didact began to walk towards her, slowly letting his steps echo with metal and rubber on cold stone. Celestia quickly shook any remaining stars from her vision and charged her horn to full power, a warm yellow color shifting to become a vibrant green, then cyan, until finally it shifted into a cool violet- the most powerful and energetic of her magic- and focused on the Didact. he was moving towards her faster now, rapidly crossing the large expanse at a run. With a discharge of magic she struck at him. Making sure she had hit her mark, Celestia pushed out against his momentum square in his chest and he was propelled to the other side, where he collided with the stone wall and collapsed to the ground.
The distraction was fleeting, as the Didact rose to his feet and craned his neck to the side with a loud *pop*. The previous darkness that had scared the princess so much wasn’t evident in him at all any more. He was completely lucid and in control of the situation, especially when he spoke. “That was an excellent push,” he said, “but you’ll going to have to do better than that.”
He rose his arms up and extended one towards the princess as it glowed with a turquoise fire. With little time to act and with her magic still charged, Celestia released a powerful beam of energy, aimed at the Didact. In near unison, the Didact did the same, a smile forming on his lips as he notices she had seen his plan and countered it before he even performed it. She was scared, and when someone is scared, they learn and react faster and stronger: which was what the Didact wanted her to do.
Their magicks crashed together in the center with a heavy force that shattered wine glasses and bottles throughout the room. While very powerful, and certainly not without caution, Celestia could still feel the Didact was holding back, refusing to use his full power. She presumed he was feeling the same thing with her magic, because she was. Celestia knew her boundaries and limits, and these were nowhere near them. She doubted that this was close to the Didact’s own limits too.
Slowly, the two parties began to increase the strength of magic behind their respected beams, the two of them growing with intensity. Eventually, Celestia reached the limit of magic she was willing to use at once, and her beam stopped growing. But the Didact kept siphoning magical energy into his charge, and Celestia found the pressure between their two magicks continued to grow as the gap between their powers widened. Soon, the pressure became too great, and the princess angled her beam’s focus and sent both of their magicks careening off towards the side wall, where it pulverised the stone and opened up a hole into breezy, sunny sky.
The princess instantly threw out her wings and bolted outside. Sunlight began to beam down upon her feathers. Her coat shined with an aurora of glittering magic as her reserves replenished themselves. As the sun touched her body, she could feel her power rising. Celestia turned to face the hole near the base of the south tower where she came from, the Didact cloaked by smoke, the glow of his artificial eye beaming a cloudy red.
He too bolted out from the cellar with great speed and a fervent passion. His hands were aglow with magic and he managed reached Celestia’s lazy pace with ease. He rapidly threw punches and kicks towards the princess, which she too magically matched with equally rapid blocks and counters. For a short time, the two of them were stuck in a tiring stalemate, but the Didact’s dexterous form was slowly letting him gain the upper hand.
Eventually, Celestia had to break away and absconded from the Didact. She was keen to realize that the Didact had a major advantage over her. His human form was faster, stronger and, dare she say, better than her own. It didn’t matter how much magic she had, nor how better she was at it: the longer this fight dragged on, the more of a disadvantage she would be at against the Didact.
That was when she had an idea. It was a long shot, and it could very well hurt her more than it could help, but if it worked, she might be able to win this fight. She beat her wings with mighty bursts and ascended into the atmosphere, closer to the sun, with the Didact trying to keep up behind. Celestia charged her horn to its full extent, a cool violet brightening into a boiling amethyst, and released it all into one single spell. She knew what the Didact looked like and she knew what Twilight looked like. She understood the basic concepts of biology and physiology.
So with all her magic, she guessed the Didact’s genomorphic spell through its effects on Twilight.
The princess was surrounded in pixelating light that shone as bright as the sun. Her fur painlessly peeled away into peachy skin. Her wings became arms and her feathers, dexterous fingers with fuchsia nails. In essence, she became exactly what the Didact feared her humanity would be, but with one key difference. Her determination to succeed matched her with the Didact, and it didn’t matter what she looked like or how she dressed: she would still put her all into protecting her little ponies and in stopping all those who would endanger her country.
As she twisted around to face the Didact, her flowing dress moved with her like a medusa. She somersaulted weightlessly in the air as a show off, then charged her magic through her hands and unleashed a powerful blast towards her opponent.
The Didact had little time to react, only enough time to raise his arms in a block. Even with his shielding, the Lord of Admirals was pushed back into the ground with a massive force. His breath was knocked out of him as his shield broke and his magic dissipated.
He rose slowly this time, the blast at first taking him aback. “You fight well!” he shouted to her in the air, “Who am I to stop you from protecting your nation?”
With outstretched arms, he lowered himself into a respectful bow to the princess and, as she smiled with pride, shouted back to her. “I concede this Bellum Magia!”
“Does this mean I am more powerful than the mighty Didact?” she asked, shouting down to him.
The Didact let out a powerful laugh. “Of course not! Have you not realized by now that I’ve been holding back the whole time? If I wanted to, I could’ve knocked you unconscious and ended this whole thing!”
“Prove it!” she proclaimed, “I da-”
Before she could finish, he disappeared into thin air and had bolted towards her at lightning speed. Before she could notice he was there, the Didact had already gained momentum and brought down his boot across the princess’ neck.
Celestia was knocked out before she even hit the ground.