Light shone through the half-shuttered window of Cold Scent's bedroom. This was not, as is often the case, particularly welcome.
"Ngh." Cold Scent groaned, turning over in his bed. It was then, of course, that his alarm clock started ringing. Cold Scent let out an alarmed yelp, and nearly fell out of bed attempting to shut it off. Why the buck did I set this thing so goddessdamned early? he thought, then remembered the previous day. Oh. Right.
Dragging himself out of bed, Cold Scent trudged to the bathroom. It was only midway through brushing his teeth that he managed to open his eyes without being blinded by the light in his apartment. Pouring himself a bowl of oats, he was reminded of his school days when he was a colt. Things had not changed much, he observed.
Less than fifteen minutes later, Cold Scent walked out the door of his apartment, his saddlebags packed with parchment, quills, ink, and a lunch. It was time for his first day of school.
He giggled slightly at that thought.
***
Magic, Cold Scent quickly learned, was in no way an exact science. It was, in fact, the thing most divorced from science in existence, being, you know, magic. Teachers in Magic Kindergarden were more there to deal with whiny foals than to actually understand the forces that control the universe. For most unicorns, magic was as simple as, according to the teacher Cold Scent had been assigned, "doing what feels magical. Then magic happens."
"Could you be a little more vague? I still think I can understand you somewhat." Cold Scent replied, setting a personal record for snark.
"Look, I teach foals. They don't exactly have the capacity to understand what they're doing, and most ponies never really learn. We're mostly just here to get their random surges of spell casting under control so their parents can sleep at night." The teacher, who had introduced himself as Crash Course, was apologetic, but Cold Scent could tell that he was more confused and irritated than anything else.
"So what do you understand?"
"Well, most of modern magical theory comes from Starswirl the Bearded's research, but that's at the college level. I've forgotten most of it. In general, though, magic can do a ridiculous amount of stuff. Ponies began to classify spells in order to make things easier. There's Destructive, Constructive, Manipulative, ah... One or two more which we don't get into in our normal classes, and then "higher magic," which is sort of the junk drawer for all the stuff that's complicated and hard to cast.
"Magic requires focus. You can do all kinds of stuff if you just release a bunch of magic, some of it in the higher range, but without focus you can't guarantee what's going to happen. That's why dispelling is so important. A spell that you lose control of could end up doing anything, and unknowns are dangerous, especially in magic.
"All ponies, and indeed sentient races, have magic within themselves. In pegasi, this manifests as their power over the weather and ability to fly. In earth ponies, it imparts their connection to the earth and abnormal strength. Unicorns, however, have horns. This is not a manipulator of magic - that is a common misconception. It is more like a release valve. They can send out some of their power and give it form in the process - more commonly known as spell casting.
"There's not much else to it. Most of what we do is training, not teaching. You'd have to go to a university or the library for real information. I can go over our curriculum and recommend some books and the like, but that's really it."
Cold Scent took a moment to take all this in. As unhelpful as things seemed, this was more information than he had before, and right now he needed all the information he could get. At least now he might be able to follow what Twilight was saying half the time.
"Thank you, Mr. Course." He said, getting up from the too-small desk he had been taking notes at, and pushing his supplies into his saddlebags. "This has helped."
"I should be thanking you." Crash Course replied. "You got me out of a day of teaching, and let me explain this stuff to someone who will actually listen for more than six seconds. It's been a pleasure."
Cold Scent smiled and strode out of the room, trying not to feel ridiculous.
***
Maps and photographs had come down off another of Cold Scent's cork boards, freeing up space for more fragments of coherent notes. The bits and pieces from his class in Magic Kindergarden were scattered around, along with the little facts he had found about the fairytales. Cold Scent frowned, looking at the box of map pins and balls of string arrayed on the desk next to him. Nothing was joining up, and he was mystified. It took him an embarrassingly long time to realize it might also be prudent to put the actual questions he was trying to answer on the board as well.
Gazing at the scattered concepts, Cold Scent began to notice things. A purple thread soon connected "Starswirl research" and "Starswirl notes", while elsewhere he had intertwined "innate magic," "stored spells?", and "horns - release valve."
He added some more lines, in green this time, connecting some of the spells used in fairytales to things mentioning Starswirl, but these were tentative. He sighed, gazing at the threads. He had a theory, but no idea if it was even possible. He'd have to ask Twilight in the morning. Sighing, he got up, giving a last glance at his desk as he shut off the lights before leaving for home.
He would be glad to get some sleep tonight. He had a lot to consider.
***
Dreamcatcher was suspended just above the bed. It was perfectly made, undisturbed by his floating form. He was asleep, muttering as he tossed and turned occasionally while hovering. The room was large, though one could not tell exactly how big it was in the low light.
Dreamcatcher stirred, and turned his head, his horn glowing in the darkness.
"One searches." he rasped, to, it seemed, no one at all.
In the dark, just outside the light cast by Dreamcatcher's horn the most observant of ponies might have been able to make out the movement of cloaked figures when Dreamcatcher spoke. One stepped closer, just enough to be visible, listening attentively, hoping for more from the sleeping pony. He was not disappointed.
"Follow the Cold Scent."