//------------------------------// // Chapter 1: Convocation // Story: Twilight’s Final Exam // by Pascoite //------------------------------// Princess Celestia had a particular gleam to her eye, but Twilight Sparkle couldn’t quite place it. “Enjoying your tea?” Twilight asked, to which Celestia nodded, but she didn’t sip any yet, instead blowing across its surface. They’d made time for tea every week, usually in Canterlot to accommodate Celestia’s more stringent schedule, but this instance saw them sitting on a broad balcony of Twilight’s castle overlooking Ponyville. Once more, Twilight glanced at the untouched beverage hovering in front of Celestia’s face when a hint of a grin showed from behind it. “Alright, out with it,” Twilight said, her own cup clinking back into its saucer. Celestia raised an eyebrow, but the picture of innocence lasted barely more than three quarters of a second. “Well, I’ve been thinking…” Twilight sat up straight in her seat, folded her forehooves, and gave Celestia her undivided attention. “Thinking what?” “The day you ascended to become a princess—” Celestia’s lip wavered, only a smidgen, but Twilight had long since learned to watch for it when her mentor might have reason to become sentimental “—I said that you no longer needed to write your friendship reports to me. That you had become the Princess of Friendship, and we should all turn to you for guidance, myself included.” One of Twilight’s wings twitched, and she looked down at the table, an uncomfortable warmth in her cheeks, but Celestia reached out to raise her chin. “Although you have made the transition from student to mentor,” Celestia continued, “it seems to me that you never properly graduated.” Twilight shot to her hooves and leaned over the table, her mouth gaping open. “Y-you’re right,” she said softly. “It… it never occurred to me to…” Flicking a hoof toward her, Celestia found her playful smirk again. “Well, we’ll just have to remedy that, won’t we? Of course, it’s little more than a formality at this point, but what can such an institution do, if not stand on ceremony?” She wouldn’t look Twilight in the eye, and the laugh threatening to spill out gave pretty clear evidence as to why. But Celestia’s smile quickly faded, and she took Twilight’s hoof in her own. “Please, sit.” After a moment, Twilight complied. “I don’t mean to belittle the experience. As much as I would like to joke with you about it, the ceremony is an important ritual. I’m excited to share it with you, and I think you’ll see the value in it.” With a deep breath, Twilight nodded. “I’m afraid I can’t elaborate, but… you will do fine. There is nothing to worry about.” Why did that phrase never fail to produce the exact opposite effect? “How does this Saturday sound, eight o’clock in the morning?” Celestia asked. Another nod, then Twilight pursed her lips, and they finished their tea in silence. She definitely didn’t worry. A small procession walked without a sound along a well-weathered stone hallway deep inside the School for Gifted Unicorns in Canterlot. Each member of the solemn parade stepped slowly through the ancient corridors with heads held high and clad in the richest finery befitting her prestigious station. Except one. Twilight Sparkle occupied the place at the center of the line, and in addition to her official school robe, sported the biggest grin her face could hold. As the cavalcade finally reached its destination far down in the stonework recesses of the school’s lower levels, an attendant asked Twilight to wait at the door while the other members filed in. Once they had taken their places, the attendant motioned for Twilight to enter. The slate-floored room was immense. She had a sense that the walls extended far back into the shadows; indeed, the echoes within the vast chamber were considerably staggered, meaning not only that the walls stood quite some distance away, but also that the ceiling lofted far above. What little of the surroundings she could see consisted of a rich, dark mahogany paneling matching the towering judicial bench that rose in front of her. Aside from soft yellow desk lights atop the furnishing at each pony’s seat, the only illumination was a concentrated overhead spot that intensely lit the immediate area in which she stood, presumably at the room’s center. Nothing else penetrated the gloom. At the light’s periphery, the bench ascended at least ten hooves above Twilight’s head, where the pony presiding over the ceremony sat. Each successive seat to either side was slightly lower, so that the whole assembly, nine seats in all, resembled a pointed arch. Twilight recognized most of the ponies above her as long-tenured members of the faculty, regents of the school, or political leaders, and, surprisingly, not all were unicorns. And there sat Princess Celestia on the left, three levels from the top. Surely, she should rate the place of honor! The presiding pony at the head seat was a portly old unicorn stallion, with a gray coat and silver mane. Twilight had met him—the school’s chancellor—only once before. He cleared his throat several times, adjusted his reading glasses, and began to leaf through a stack of forms sitting on the lectern in front of him. Very methodical—surely with the number of these ceremonies he had conducted in the past, he would know the text from memory, but of course he still felt it necessary to read from the traditional litany, so that nothing out of place could happen, every syllable spoken perfectly. Not that Twilight couldn’t respect proper decorum, but… get on with it already! The chancellor originally hailed from across the ocean, out of the city of Manechester, if she remembered correctly, and had the characteristic accent. His voice was a full baritone, thick and unctuous, with a somewhat growling quality to it, and he spoke very slowly and deliberately. He sounded like a whale, if one could talk. Or a walrus. Definitely a whale. With tusks. And a mustache. Hee hee! No, she needed to get control of herself! There he went talking again and had she missed anything and no, no, concentrate! “…As we are all gathered here… at this commencement… for Twilight—” he paused to shuffle through his stack of parchment and verify the name “—Spaaaahkle, yes.” Wow, that pony sure knew how to stretch an “r”, hee hee, shut up and listen! “Who here among the membership stands in sponsorship of Twilight—” his papers shuffled again “—Spaaaahkle?” “I do,” said Celestia with a barely perceptible smile. She spread her wings, slowly rose above her seat, and flapped down to a gentle landing beside her former apprentice. A warmth like late afternoon sunlight suffused Twilight’s body, and she gazed up at Celestia. Not so tall as she used to seem, but just as grand and no less formidable. Twilight hadn’t expected to have her quite so close by, but she couldn’t think of anypony else she’d rather share it with, except… Wait… She peered into the blackness but didn’t see any shapes that looked like her friends or family. Celestia had told her to invite them, so she had assumed they would come. They hadn’t started the ceremony early, had they? Or maybe she’d accidentally told them the wrong day or time or place! Or… or because she’d told them it wasn’t a big deal—she just had to pop in and get her diploma, so she had her number-one assistant watching things for her back home, and the rest didn’t need to bother, and… Twilight forced out a sigh, rocking back and forth slightly on her hooftips. She gave her mentor an appreciative smile, but the lack of an audience must mean she wouldn’t get to deliver a valedictory speech. Even if she had one prepared. Come to think of it, Celestia had never told her of the form that graduation took, not even that it was apparently an individual affair. Did all the unicorns really get to do this? The scheduling alone would—oh no, she’d let her mind wander again! “And as is customary, you will recuse yourself from judgment of this prospective graduate,” the stallion droned, licking his hoof to turn the next page and not even glancing up for a response. Wait a minute, judgment? She thought she’d come here to get her diploma! What judgment? “Of course,” Celestia confirmed, bowing her head. “As is the rule.” A chill began in Twilight’s cheeks and spread across her face, down her neck. Her biggest proponent couldn’t even take her side? Twilight squinted again at the empty space around her. Why couldn’t she find even a hint of Applejack’s hat, Rarity’s mane, Shining Armor’s uniform in the shadows? “Very good. Twilight—” shuffle “—Spaaaaahkle, we convene to administer your final examination…” Examination!? She’d aced every test she’d ever taken! She’d served Equestria faithfully, become a princess, for goodness’ sake. What more did she need to do to prove herself? “…your exemplary academic record…” Darn right it is! “…have proven yourself worthy of consideration as a baccalaureate of this fine in-sti-tyu-tionnnnnn. In the noblest traditions of this academy, the examination is intended to determine your suitability to represent…” Why didn’t Celestia tell her about this? She should have studied! She should have prepared! How could one of her dearest friends betray her like that? “…for the last thousand years has been modeled after the Elements Of Haaaaaaahmony, in honor of the power brought to Equestria by Princesses Celestia and Luna. Of course, we knew of only five Elements until some few years back, but as luck would have it, the sixth being Magic, any student at this school must have already demonstrated a mastery in it to rise to this level, so it hasn’t complicated our procedure, hmm hmm, quite so, quite so.” He scowled at his own deviation from the script, blinked down at Twilight as if surprised to see her there, and quickly shook his head. “Twilight—” shuffle “—Spaaaaahkle, the purpose of this examination is to assess your proficiency in the five traditional elements: Honesty, Kindness, Laughter, Generosity, and Loyalty. The remaining eight of us—” he glanced down the bench in each direction and gestured toward his fellow board members “—will sit in judgment. Only I will speak, unless I wish to pose a question. Should you decline to submit yourself for examination, or should you fail said examination, you will not be licensed to cast anything higher than a level-five spell outside these walls.” What!? She could be prevented from using her magic? A level-five spell meant only levitation, simple plant growth… what else, what else? She couldn’t even think straight! No teleportation, no mustaches for Spike, no heavy attack spells… only things covered in the standard public-school curriculum. None of the specialized magic the School for Gifted Unicorns taught, unless she came here to do so under supervision! What could she do? If she didn’t have her magic, what did that make her? Some figurehead, punchless, a half-pony constantly fighting to suppress herself. Magic made her who she was. Celestia knew that. Why would she keep this secret from her? A young attendant with a staff aide’s golden cord on the shoulder of his robe circled behind the stand and climbed the stairs to the chancellor’s position. He briefly whispered something in the old stallion’s ear. The chancellor had a muffled exchange with him, nodded, and turned his attention back to the proceedings. While the seconds ticked by and Twilight’s nerves buzzed under her skin worse than ever, he flipped through his sheets of parchment again to find his place. Once more, Twilight gaped at Celestia. But her mentor would only stare ahead, ignoring her, ignoring her star pupil! A chill swept over her, and she moved one step to the side, away… away from the one pony who’d meant the most to her. For just a second—had she seen Celestia’s eye flick toward her? Maybe, but still as a statue again, and about as concerned for her, too. “You will be tested on your understanding and application of the Elements,” the chancellor continued. “We will discuss your performance on each segment with you, and then vote on whether you have demonstrated the character to deserve having this school’s reputation behind you. The vote must be unanimous.” He rose slightly to lean over his lectern, looming over Twilight. “So, Miss—” his eyes flicked down to his papers “—Spaaaaahkle. Do you subject yourself to this examination?” What else could she do? She didn’t have any choice! If Princess Celestia had only warned her, she could have studied, she could have prepared. She was alone. Standing here, next to the pony who had made the biggest difference in her life, and she was alone. She shifted her weight back and forth. Back and forth. “Y-yes I do,” she said, the words tangling up in her throat. She nearly coughed. Her legs shook, and her withers knotted. Why? Hadn’t she been a good student? Hadn’t she done everything Celestia had ever asked and more? Did she not learn enough about friendship? Had she failed? “Then by all means, Miss… Spaaaahkle, proceed whenever you are ready.” He extended a foreleg to his left and indicated a door that slid open in the far wall, deep within the shadows. Bright white light poured through the doorway, obscuring any view of what lay beyond. “Make any preparations you deem necessary before entering the examination room.” Twilight stared into the light. Intense, but… it didn’t hurt her eyes. It pulsed, just a little, but enough to… to draw her in, and… her mouth hung open, and her head bobbed with each slight peak of luminescence. “Twilight.” Bright, but soft and… soft. Yeah. “Twilight.” She jerked her gaze over—Celestia had a wing draped across Twilight’s back, but… the room, the high podium, the darkness! She trembled, even harder than before, and leaned against Celestia to… to keep from falling if her knees buckled. It wouldn’t look good to collapse. She didn’t need Celestia. Not if Celestia didn’t want her. “Twilight, calm down,” Celestia whispered, her mouth right next to Twilight’s ear. Twilight looked up, and Celestia finally met her gaze. She’d never seen such a gentle smile on her mentor before. Her heart actually slowed for a moment as Celestia reached a hoof to Twilight’s cheek and brushed a tear streak away. “I couldn’t tell you about the exam, because this is the way we do it. The school has maintained it as a long-standing tradition, and we’ve sworn all graduates to secrecy,” Celestia said. Nodding, Twilight gulped. She’d given up too easily, lost faith. Maybe she didn’t deserve to pass. She caught herself rubbing a hoof up and down her mane—it must be sticking out all over the place. “This is not a test of knowledge,” Celestia continued. She set a hoof under Twilight’s chin and leaned closer. “You couldn’t have studied for it. Now, do you have any questions for me before we begin?” “Yes!” Twilight blurted out immediately. “Yes, I-I—” She sucked in a breath, her heart thudding in her chest. “Books! I need my books! I-I can teleport to my library, pack a bag of them. It will only take a minute. I’ll come right back, I promise! I swear!” “Shh,” Celestia said. She pulled Twilight into a hug, but Twilight wriggled away. She had to get her books! “Twilight!” Twisting around, Celestia moved to stand face to face with Twilight. She put a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder and stared intensely. “Look me in the eye! Twilight, calm down and breathe.” Her wings cupping over them, Celestia warded off the outside world. Just the two of them, alone in a sea of white. Nothing but them. Nothing else. One last tremulous breath, and Twilight closed her eyes. Down deep, she knew. Who else had stuck with her through so much? Trust in Celestia. Trust. She gave another short nod and opened her eyes. Slowly, Celestia folded her wings in, revealing that horrible dark room again, but she still spoke in a low voice. “Technically, you can take anything you want in there with you. But believe me when I tell you that it won’t do you any good. Physical burdens will become burdens of another kind. Go in there with only your mind and your morals. You won’t need anything else. I have faith in you. You can do this.” Faith. How close had Twilight come to losing her own? Celestia might have overestimated her. “I could lose my magic!” she whimpered, fighting down a whinny as she folded her ears back. “It’s what I am. If I’d known, if I’d gotten a hint to ask a former graduate—” “I told you, this is a secret ceremony. You couldn’t have known. All who have undergone the exam swore an oath to that effect, so that we can administer the test properly. We need to know what choices you would make, not what somepony else told you was correct. If I give you the answers, then we learn nothing about you.” Celestia nuzzled her, and Twilight pressed her nose into Celestia’s mane, just like she always had as a filly. “I know you to be a pony of good character. Be yourself. Nothing else is required. It really is that simple.” Trust in Celestia. The test before the test. Twilight gritted her teeth and nodded. She took a step toward the distant door. No. Not yet. Celestia had said that any physical burden would become another kind of burden. She turned around, removed her robe, and levitated it over to Celestia, who already had a foreleg ready to hold it and wore a gentle smile. Then Twilight strode toward the door, pausing at the threshold for one last glance at her mentor before going in. Inside… more darkness. The light came from the jamb itself, and when the door silently slid shut behind her, it left her in total blackness. Nothing. She clenched her jaw and waited for something to happen. Minute by minute, but nothing. No way to measure time except her own heartbeat, which kept racing erratically anyway. So she waited. Had it been an hour yet? More? She’d run out of things to occupy her mind, all manner of lists she’d memorized now exhausted. Had they forgotten about her? Maybe they did several all at once and had to attend to the other students first. It couldn’t hurt to lie down. She’d stand again when somepony came in. Except… she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Even her head and neck seemed to weigh double, and a stifling humidity hung in the air. She rolled onto her side, panting for breath, each blink of her eyes shallower and longer, until they closed for good.