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// XXV: Ambition 
// Story: Memoirs of a Magic Earth Pony 
// by The Lunar Samurai 
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	On that day after the end of fall semester, I arose earlier than the sun. Ambition was still rampant in my mind and the life that I so desperately desired to have was right at the tip of my nose, or so I thought. I rolled out of bed, quickly donned my saddlebag overflowing with books and parchment, and started down the narrow streets toward the university.
Ice was everywhere, that much I remember all too well since I was forced to sidestep many solid puddles in the road during my journey. It wasn’t a large distance by any means, but it took quite a bit longer than usual. Small flakes of snow were floating through the air and resting softly on the world around me. It wasn’t anything abnormal for that time of year, but I was aware of it because of the stage it set. It felt like the world had grown cold and callous as I trotted toward the school each day. I was trying my best to learn more than I ever had before, and I was, but there were still decades of work ahead of me. That debilitating fact coupled with my ever strangling ability to absorb information was bringing in a new mindset that I hadn’t battled before.
I wanted to learn, but I couldn’t. Everything that I had ever wanted was right in front of my face, all I had to do was reach out and grab it, but for some reason I was unable to keep but a fraction of what I was learning in my mind. Every book that I picked up, ever piece of information I tried to learn, was always in reference to something else. The authors of those magnificent texts had assumed a few key aspects about the reader, ones that made my research an order of magnitude harder. For one, all readers were expected to be unicorns. Even the earliest magical texts were penned with the intent of spurring young ones to explore the depths of their natural born talent. However, I was only able to start where most unicorns ended their magical wanderings which left me at a severe disadvantage. I did have my mental realm, but it was small, fragile, and limited.
For reference, I had created a small realm for me to perform my experiments in. I chose a box, as that was the most feasible shape I could conjure up. Once that had been established, I placed a small table in the center of that box. That surface provided me a desk at which I could perform my experiments without the need for that magical appendage atop my head. However, I had neglected several important things such as any presence of air, the proper breaking strength of the table itself, the gravity that affected the box, and so forth. It was preliminary so many of those things may be overlooked, but it wasn’t something I was necessarily happy with. It worked, that much was sure, but I lacked the proper knowledge to make it work better.
With my studies working in field I had never experienced, and my mental realm still very much in its infancy, my life was beginning, once again, to look as though I were trapped.
Upon reaching the gates of the university about a half hour after I had left my house, I stopped for a moment to appreciate the exquisite feelings it produced in myself. Ever after my attempt on my life, I had become much more aware of my own persona and how it was affecting my daily life. I had once disregarded my emotions, but now that I knew what kind of damage they could bring, I began to monitor them like a scientist monitors his experiments. It wasn’t quite an obsession, but it was a fixation. The gates themselves brought about a feeling of fear in my heart. They, and the school that they guarded, reminded me of some of the best and worst times of my life. I had nearly been given a new life, and my own life had nearly been taken away in the course of a few months.
The snow that drifted from the grey sky was adhering onto the uppermost portions of the massive iron gate, outlining its frame with the harsh coldness of winter. It was a foreboding sight, one that still remains in my mind today. The power that dwelt behind those gates, the ability to start new lives and destroy old was something I was absolutely fascinated with.
I probably ended up standing before those gates for several minutes, just enough time for my skin to remind me to seek warmth by sending a violent chill down my spine. The weather of Canterlot was harsh to say the least, but it did offer a driving force to continue with my mission. As I shook the introspection from my mind and focused my attention on the world around me, I stepped toward the gate and placed my hoof on its iron handle.
I gave it a push, but nothing happened. The small resistance it offered was enough to break me free of my routine once more and enter a state of awareness. Now, as my mind began spinning its gears, I began to draw several conclusions.
They must have locked the gate because school is out. That thought wasn’t entirely accurate, however, because I knew that the library on campus was public. The gates were to be locked at certain times and certain dates, not to block ponies out during entire months. There was nothing special about that day, no holiday to observe, so I let my logic continue.
Maybe they’re keeping the gates locked because of the weather. I quickly dismissed that idea because as I looked to the world around me, I realized the snow had only started. With no hoof tracks in the mud from the guard’s dwelling, I let my logic continue once more.
The door is locked because it’s too early in the morning for visitors. This was the mindset that finally brought the answer that I sought. Within seconds I was looking for a sign stating the hours of the library. I knew I had seen it before in my weeks of passing through this very gate, but finding something one only sees in passing always proves to be a much greater challenge than one realizes. 	It took several minutes, but I found it in due time. It was just to the right of the door, a metal slab bearing the engraved days and their respective hours.
SATURDAY: NOON TO MIDNIGHT
I cursed beneath my breath as I looked at the library that stood behind the iron bars of the gate. It was though the entire building was trapped behind them. I needed to get to the library, and with the snow’s intensity increasing I needed to get in there soon. The snowstorms Canterlot faced during these harsh winter months were quick to strike and could last on the order of days.
“I’ve got to get inside” I muttered, my words turning to visible fog at the tips of my teeth. I wasn’t talking to anypony in particular, I was instead urging myself. I had a new objective, circumvent the building, and I wasn’t about to let some gate stand in my way.
The gate itself had been erected between the massive walls that separated the small peninsula of the university from the rest of the city. The only way into the school was through that gate or up the cloud piercing cliffs from the base of the mountain. While my mind did tease me with the notion that I could swing around the edge of the wall where it met the mountain, I quickly dismissed that idea fro its sheer insanity. There was no reason to put myself in such danger like that, however I was left with a necessity to find another route into the library.
I looked to the gate once more and frowned. None of the iron sections had been constructed so a grown stallion could wedge his way through them. Even the hinges themselves were flush with the wall when the gates were closed. At that point, and with a piercing howl of the wind, I realized that my situation was running low on a particularly valuable resource: time.
My eyes wandered up the ever whitening surface of that gate and came to rest on the large spike that protruded from the top of the iron bars. From the surface they looked vicious and sharp, but this was simply a matter of perspective. I realized that the entire apparatus, despite its menacing nature, lended itself as a massive ladder. With that realization, I concluded that the best way around the fence was over it.
I unbuckled the belt of my saddlebag and took the strap in my mouth. Now, I wasn’t an athlete by any means, but I was able to send that bag over the top of the gate to land with a thud on the other side. With the load lightened, I took hold of the bars that had defied my entrance and began to use them to gain it once more. It was a slightly tedious process, as I would blow the snow off of the metal before placing my hooves on them to pull myself upward.
It took about a minute to reach the top. By then my muscles had had quite enough of my antics for one day and proceeded to ache in protest of my determination. As I carefully maneuvered myself over the blunted points of the spikes, I ensured that none of them scraped my hide simply out of spite. Once I had cleared them, I let my shaking hooves down the other side. It took a bit longer, as I was becoming quite scared of the prospect of falling, but I managed to return to the safety of the ground in good time.
It felt good to overcome such a barrier. I wanted to bask in my accomplishment, as menial as it was, to remind myself that I had accomplished something that day, but the weather was through with my presence. Within a few seconds of returning to the stone path I was reminded that this was a powerful winter storm, not something to be trifled with. I quickly donned my saddlebag after blowing off the layer of snow that had accumulated on it. I needed to get to the library, but as my mind set its bearing once more, a new feeling of terror struck me. What if I can’t get into the building?
I hadn’t considered that to be an option before I scaled the gate, and now with the frigid wind picking up strength, I couldn’t back to my home for shelter anymore. I had sealed my course by hurdling that gate, something that I was quickly worrying may have been the wrong decision.
I ended up galloping to the library and pausing for a moment. The doors were shut and there wasn’t any indication that it was occupied. That shock quickly turned into horror as I placed my hooves against the door and pressed. They didn’t move. 
Then, in my heightened sense of awareness, I remembered something about the doors at this place. A smirk flashed across my mouth as I pulled the door open and stepped into the warmth of the library. Immediately the smell of icy wind was replaced by the scent of resting books. The low howling gave way to a distant din as the library was a void of any sound. The warm colors of the library were a pleasant sight to the bitterness of the world outside. The innumerous lanterns that swung from the ceiling filled the entire building in light as the world outside would not lend any of its own to light the room through the panes of glass on the ceiling.
I quietly walked to one of the oversized desks and placed my saddlebag beside the chair. I was determined to accomplish great things today, to learn more magic than I had thought was possible. I quickly turned my attention to the organized rows of books and began my search.
I had a method to my madness for studying magic. I would find the most advanced topic I could imagine, and then look in the preface for any information about what knowledge it required. Typically, the author would mention the need for knowledge in a less advanced topic, and that is where I would head next. The system was slightly painstaking, but it gave me a way to construct a kind of foundation as I walked through the room.
Within a few minutes, I had gathered several books all nested beneath my goal of Hyperdimensions. It was one of the books that I had picked up on my first insatiable stroll through the library so many years ago, but I was approaching it from a new angle this time. I was going to learn about hyper dimensions from the ground up this time instead of the top down.
Now after I had gathered several books relating back to that singular topic, I began my journey back to the desk. I was going to have to take multiple trips, a fate that would have been lost on a unicorn. Despite my lack of magic, I was making up for it in a hunger to learn, or at least that is what I told myself as I started toward the desk.
As you can imagine, by this point, I was under the assumption that I was alone. With not a sound other than the distant wind, I had let myself slip into that mindset. I was already contemplating the first book to study, whether that be Applied Magic Theory, or A brief history of magic. Regardless, I was completely immersed in my thoughts. That being said, you can probably imagine my complete and utter shock when a hoof reached out and tapped my shoulder.