Tomb of Magic

by Ice Star

Chapter 9: Apprentices and Grimoires

With Sombra still outside - thank goodness - I had to do something. Gazing around I looked at my rune guide and the books from the museum spilled around the floor near the bed.

Sombra's lessons did help... I should be able to read them. Now or never. Who knew when I would get another chance? They may contain some useful spells, although that did not explain why they were referred to as 'journals'.

Levitating everything over to the table, I curled up on a chair. Apparently, the table magically spawned them whenever somepony moved to sit down. The plush recliner was covered in soft felt and just right for avid reading.

I picked up the first journal, gently lifting the aged cover and began to read its graceful, flowing runes:

To-day, after a sun-cycle, We write from the Tower observing this desolate vale. Not a thing of interest happened, although that ragamuffin of a chimney sweep, Kawblance is still missing after he decided to run off. And where to? There is simply no way out other than by Master Starswirl's hoof.

We have no news of the Court since 'Mina has not returned. We have only enough energy to have her break past wards - just barely - so that gossip and useful rumors might reach Our ears for Our next Court appearance. This could prove dreadful. What if another war breaks out? How will such a thing affect the heavenly motions? If such an event occurs We would have to defend the Other. There are only so many things We can do to aide her, even if she does not know it. This place is far safer than that war-ravaged land could ever be, and We are kinder than she thinks Us.

Above all, We are meant to rule. We must never forget that, and We have never come close to doing so.

Clover said that We should be studying arcane knowledge, but We shall not being more powerful then her and having better things to do since a trip to the Unicorn Court was rumored and We will need to look presentable: our iron circlet, lacy gown and ribbon boots will do. The rare dyes We made and added to the fabric will stun the lords and ladies. We find that Our studies only go so far to aid Us in anything. Social concerns rise above what the Other takes to so easily.

We will need to curb some of the mannerisms if success is to be achieved, and that would involve changing exactly who We are thought to be and how others wish to see Us as easily as one blinks. In the end, all that are meant to be pleased by Us, will be. The game of the tribes is both cloak and dagger, both subtle and flamboyant. And if I am to win anything in this tournament of deception I will need to play my pieces carefully.

More importantly, I will need to continue to play this game alone and its rewards will be mine alone until more moves open, and a crown is closer than ever before. It is time for my star to shine, dearest diary.

Solara

...

I decided to take a peek into another one of the journals seeing as this one was a little too cryptic and this Solara was almost gloating about her political standpoint. I bet Sombra-swirl and this pony would get along a little too well.

This next journal, just as ancient was written in plain, almost dull script. Though what they had to say was anything but dull, at least in some ways. The words of this student were insulting accusations and exaggerations that I wasn't sure if I could believe. They sounded too embellished to be true, and described a pony who sounded like everything Starswirl wasn't.

...

We now start our third volume of recordings. Since this is a new book maybe We should introduce Us again, for We feel as if We should, for anew journal is a new friend. We think...

The name We write is Selene, We are a 'student' of magics in the Magicspire. We were young when Our home and family vanished, and are foreign to this segregated land. Our tone may be formal but inside We are scared and find that We sink into a long sadness, that is no sadness at all, for it is too dark on even the brightest days and Our eyes and heart only sink deeper in this most sickly haze. I, or 'We' as you will read, frequently write using this plural. It mirrors Our speech, for We were taught to speak so, and it angers Starswirl greatly, so the rebellion is continued with every little 'We' and 'Us' that We manage.

The Magicspire is home to a unicorn named Starswirl the Bearded who is powerful among his kind, but very weak in most other ways - mostly of the mind. There are some magics that he is adept in, and two such magics would be dreadful wards and his talent for selective hypnosis that confuses navigation, both internal and external as well as harvests and blurs memories of familiar paths. The effort is costly to him, but it is his talent and boasts of how he got his mark for it. He holds us in this vale like a manticore holds prey. Perhaps even like a glacier holds its secrets. There are many glaciers here. Do these ponies have naught but glaciers every-where?

By 'us' We 'speak' of the other apprentices. Solara, who is our elder and changed in ways that have a sickness to them, different from Our own. She listens to ponies when she should not. Next is Kawblance a mean spirited pony of crystal from another land that neither of us have been to, although Starswirl has.

Clover is the third but she will graduate soon and keeps no journals, off to the Unicorn Court she will go, sold to the mare known as Princess Platinum who is naught but a 'bitch' as these ponies would say. Even there she will not be free, nor will she ever be.

More to-marrow.

...

To-day We have more time to write, and can tell you more about myself and where We dwell. Our 'name' as you already know is 'Selene'. Our parents are lost. The tower We live in is in a small vale, a day's flight in either direction but is plagued by constant winds, and often snow as well. We have a small room in which Our few belongings are located: quills, inks, a few scrolls, Our blade known as Quicksilver, and a cloak.

This tower, as previously stated, is home to the unicorn wizard Starswirl. He is haughty and cruel. Before this We were a wanderer in lands far south but 'decided' to stay and learn magics, when We were given no choice at all. He is a poor teacher with resources he does not know how to utilize and We find true knowledge and the spark of it in learning alone. This journal is charmed by Us so We can keep it from prying eyes like the greedy ones of Starswirl, which are often in a mean and drunken squint.

Despite Starswirl having his own 'names' for each of us We refuse to write Our true name it is private and a monster like Starswirl deserves no knowledge of it. He has no doubt forgotten it when We declared it over and over to him years ago, but still, We shall not even humor him, for he has likely forgotten it.

Our skills involve arcane magics, combat, and blade fighting, though We have more - magic itself We excel at. We are dark in color with a medium length mane that curls slightly at the tips, and We wear it short for any mare. 'Tis practical that way.

Little book, We shall call you Grimoire.

...

Grimoire, to-day while We were out strolling in the woods without Banshee, Our wolf friend, We heard a noise among the trees that belonged to no forest creature. This was deeper then most ponies of the vale dare to go, so We were a bit startled. Mayhap it was Kawblance, who is Starswirl's servant, or Starswirl himself, which would make for a far worse encounter.

We do not know much about him other then that Starswirl went to an exotic country looking for a servant - no more than a slave, really - and came back with a young pony that was Kawblance, who he had swayed with promises of an apprenticeship that was not to be, for none in the Magicspire are proper students in anything.

He is slightly shorter then an average grown pony, but is the shortest amongst us, despite being tall for his age and quite gangly - he walks with nothing but an awkwardness in his gait. His coat is always sooty and We cannot tell what color he would be under it, something dark, We imagine. There is so much soot and light colors occur more among the unicorn and pegasus tribes now. He often wears a tattered brown-hued robe that We do not think does much to combat against the cold - he is often stuck outside when Starswirl locks him out now that We are too clever and wild for him to keep out of the Spire, even when he attempts to punish us for any misdeed. Kawblance is the only one of us who does not grow a winter coat, so We can only imagine how cold it must be for him, yet he complains little about this and much about anything and everything else.

We have been 'apprentices' and wards with Solara far longer than he has. Too long. We can only wonder if he might succumb to the cruelty of Starswirl like Solara and Clover have. It is not as though We made no attempt to help him, however much Starswirl was against the attempts he discovered, but there is something so vile about this colt that We have yet to know in full. Despite his very low intelligence, he is good at hiding in a prey-like desperation that affects the weak. His nature is a cruel one and he has proven to be defiant in dense ways and without purpose, as well as vulgar in the remarks he has made about Solara and Us. We do not wish to transcribe any unless it appears necessary. Our sharp memory holds each ill he has done in the short time he has been here quite easily.

Kawblance is about eleven winters old. We do not remember an exact date, and he knows not when he was born. The snow distorts the perception of some seasons here. Starswirl brought Kawblance here and renamed him when he was nine or ten winters of age after he left on a two year trip to Kaw's country, searching the Arctic for answers that he had not bothered to think through entirely. Is it any wonder that Starswirl has so many incomplete spells, and yet, he will sell them to the Court and proclaim them complete in order to get funds? He is an old windbag who wants nothing but drink and a night with a young Court mare, and to shrug everything off right afterwards before repeating the same process.

When Mother and Father were still here things were done differently. Ages were measured in years, not winters.

Nopony but Solara and We know what a year is.

Strange... but not surprising. Ponies will be ponies.

Comments

[Word Worthy]

For some reason, everytime 'Magicspire' is mentioned, this pops into my head.

oblivionmodwiki.com/images/8/8f/TES4-Wiztower01.jpg
It's from Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, so I guess that is a good thing.

[Ice Star]

6137360

I didn't name it after that 'cause I didn't know that existed, but man that is cool.

[Iron Comet]

Just reminds me of an old D&D reference I read when I was young. Evil old mage with his young, female apprentices he would teach.

[MayhemMoth]

"I guess you could say that I was only eleven, which isn't adulthood in any I society today." He then shrugged this off as normal.

Kawblance is about eleven winters old.

Hmm.

Also geez just reading the journal entries made my stomach churn a bit.

[RoyalBardofCanterlot]

Well, I know who these two are. Heartbreaking to read. Celestia still thinks about protecting Luna-or I think that's what the reference to protecting the Other was-but is caught up in power trips. Luna realizes how bad the situation really is.

[Bicyclette]

Levitating everything over to the table, I curled up on a chair. Apparently, the table magically spawned them whenever somepony moved to sit down. The plush recliner was covered in soft felt and just right for avid reading.

dang this hat rules. i want to live in this hat!

More importantly, I will need to continue to play this game alone and its rewards will be mine alone until more moves open, and a crown is closer than ever before. It is time for my star to shine, dearest diary.

Solara

oh boy! this sure is saying a lot if it is what i think it is!

Despite Starswirl having his own 'names' for each of us We refuse to write Our true name it is private and a monster like Starswirl deserves no knowledge of it.

ooh fascinating

Kawblance is about eleven winters old.

eleven, you say? interesting…

When Mother and Father were still here things were done differently. Ages were measured in years, not winters.

Nopony but Solara and We know what a year is.

Strange... but not surprising. Ponies will be ponies.

hoowee. and there is definitely this offputtingness throughout these journals that you do so well. if i were Twilight but able to put two and two together about who these ponies were i would be too sickened to go on reading them