Neamhliteartha
You’re going to have to get used to the idea, Hob said dryly. It’s not like Libra’s going to drop Serale as an apprentice, and your only other option is cooling your hooves in a prison cell.
“I know,” Cobblestone groaned, flopping onto her bed. She had gotten remarkably used to the idea of having an actual bed all to herself. “But you heard what the twins said.”
I happen to know for a fact that deadly rivalries in an apprenticeship are rare. Otherwise, there’d be hardly any mages left. Hob stretched, standing up from sunning himself on the windowsill and padding over to the bed, where he curled up next to her. Besides, if she tries something, I can’t see you having much trouble with her. She’s only just now learning magic, after all.
“It’s not the deadly part I’m worried about,” Cobblestone said, mostly telling the truth. She was a little worried, but she had come to the same realization as Hob, that whatever happened to Libra’s last apprentice was in all probability an accident. “It’s the rivalry part. I like Serale; I don’t want to have to compete with her in anything.”
And yet, that is invariably what will happen. Just because you befriend her does not mean you won’t occasionally compete with her. It is a natural part of becoming part of a group, nothing to be frightened of.
Cobblestone snorted. “I’m not frightened, just…nervous. I knew where I stood before, and now everything’s changed again.”
You need to learn how to adapt, Hob mused. I’d have thought your upbringing would have taken care of that. Or have you gotten soft?
“I haven’t gotten soft,” Cobblestone said defensively, brushing Hob aside and walking to her wardrobe. “I never had to deal with this kind of thing before. Politics and such.”
Then why do you feel the need to explain yourself? Hob asked.
“Shut up,” Cobblestone said, rummaging around in her wardrobe for the small wooden box she knew would be there. Grasping blindly, she found it. “Ah! Here it is!”
Her horn sparked and popped, the faint smell of ozone filling the air, and the simple charms she knew were protecting the box flickered and died. She flipped open the lid, revealing the contents of the box, familiar to her from long use. Her cloak, the one she had gotten in Crescent City, recently darned and taken in so it fit her perfectly. There were a multitude of pockets sewn into the lining in which various articles could be placed. Taking it out of the chest, she fastened in about her neck in a cascade of green, noting the pleasing way it laid against the cream of her coat.
From the chest, she also withdrew several thin strips of metal that might be considered lockpicks, more out of habit than anything, along with some thread, a handkerchief, a small sack of coins in various denominations, and two candles, all of which were securely tucked into her cloak. Once in the pockets, it was like they weren’t even there.
Going for a walk?
“Yes, and you’re not invited,” Cobblestone said. “I need some air and some time to think.”
She raised the mental defenses around her, cutting off whatever Hob was about to say, and trotted to the door. Some good, old-fashioned exploration was just what she needed, something to get her mind off of things. Normally, she would have liked some rope, but she’d probably look a bit strange with thirty feet of hemp over her shoulder. She reached the door, pulled it open, and blinked at the sight of a startled Libra, her hoof raised to knock.
“Oh,” Cobblestone said. “Um. Hello.”
Libra arched an eyebrow. “Cobblestone. Going out, I take it?”
Cobblestone scuffed a hoof nervously. “Yes, Magus. Just going for a walk around the castle, is all. I’ve been here almost a month and still don’t know much about it, so…”
Libra’s horn lit up, and Cobblestone felt the pockets of her cloak invert themselves, spilling the contents onto the floor. She held up a candle, inspecting it.
“Were you planning on going caving?” she inquired. “And are these lockpicks?”
“Strictly speaking, those are my amateur attempts at lockpicks,” Cobblestone said. “They wouldn’t do much good excepting really basic locks, and even then it’d be a trial.”
“Why do you have lockpicks?” Libra asked.
It was Cobblestone’s turn to arch an eyebrow. “Is that a trick question?”
Hob made a sound that sounded very close to a sneeze, but Cobblestone suspected was much closer to the sound a cat would make if it were inclined to laugh. Libra’s mouth turned down into a frown. “Cobblestone, you know the rules of your apprenticeship, yes? If I catch you doing something illegal…”
“I wasn’t going to use them,” the younger unicorn replied. “Really, I wasn’t. I just feel sort of…naked without them. It’s more of a habit than anything else.”
Libra’s eyes met hers, searching, seeking the truth, and found it. Her expression softened. “It’s been a hard transition for you,” she said sympathetically. “Made worse by the recent developments. You don’t have to be scared, Cobblestone.”
Cobblestone snorted. “For the last time, I’m not worried about sharing an apprenticeship with Serale! I know it’s not going to be all that dangerous, what happened to the last pony was probably an accident, right?”
Libra looked at her strangely. “I was speaking of the attack on the Arena,” she said, concerned. “We swore to protect you, and that protection was violated. I had thought you might be withdrawn because your encounter with Nightshade was bothering you. You’ve hardly been seen aside from the ball since you returned from the hospital, I was worried. So was Serale.” Her brow furrowed, ears low. “Who told you about Logos?”
Cobblestone gulped, suddenly nervous. Of course she should have realized that Libra would be concerned about the necromancer. Inwardly, she cursed herself for a fool, and realized she was about to have that conversation much sooner than she expected. “Fern and Grappa Hedera,” she said. “I was talking with them at the party, and they realized I was your new apprentice, and it just sort of…came up.”
Libra nodded and sighed. “May I come in?” she asked. “This is a conversation best had in private.”
Cobblestone backed out of the doorway, closing the door behind Libra. There was only one chair, so she offered it to the Magus, choosing instead to sit on the bed. Hob curled up next to her, head on her lap, and she found herself petting him absentmindedly.
“The first thing you have to understand,” Libra said, “Was that I was young when I received my first apprentice. Logos was everything I had hoped for in a student, bright, attentive, curious…the perfect pupil. The day he arrived, I was so nervous, I almost missed the appointment and showed up with my robe covered in ink. I was new to my position, you see.”
Cobblestone noticed that Libra was absentmindedly twisting the hem of her robe. “I don’t know if you know, and I’m not trying to brag, but I was the youngest Court Mage selected in two hundred years. I was about thirty. He was about your age, believe it or not. By rights he should have been in the second or third year of his apprenticeship, but he’d taken time before applying. He wanted to be the best he could be.”
“The thing you have to understand is that he was ambitious, which is not necessarily a bad thing in a mage. He engrossed himself in his studies, ignored social obligations or personal relationships. He reminded me of myself at that age. Always a new spell, the same drive to succeed, a new horizon to push. When my second apprentice came along, I doubt he even noticed her for a good week or two. He was busy with his work in alchemy. He had a gift for that. I suppose it was only a matter of time until his studies outstripped his abilities.”
Libra sighed, massaging her temple with one hoof, the other clutching her spectacles. “I put too much trust in that colt. He had no right experimenting with magic that advanced, but I had gotten so used to him being able to take care of himself that I let it slide. He tried to bottle fire, a moderately advanced technique, in order to impress the second apprentice. He failed to account for a reaction between catalysts and burned to death in front of her eyes. She was so shocked that she resigned her apprenticeship with me the next day and took off for Equestria.”
Cobblestone sat stunned. She hadn’t considered the possibility of Libra making a mistake like that. All of the previous events had been something outside of her control, anypony’s control, really. “Libra…” she said.
“Needless to say I was devastated,” Libra continued, as if she hadn’t heard. “I made it very clear that the only way I’d take on more apprentices was at the behest of my Lady. Incredibly, noble families still petitioned to have me teach their young heirs magic. It was only very recently that I rescinded that requirement.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Cobblestone said, not sure of where the words were coming from. “Logos pushed too hard. Everypony knows magic is dangerous, even the everyday stuff. He should have been more careful.”
“Doesn’t much change the fact that he died under my protection,” Libra said. “But I thank you for the support.” Remarkably, her eyes were dry and her throat remained clear. Whatever grief she felt must have been dealt with long ago. “I had planned to discuss this with you before we left,” she said, “So I can certainly understand your reservations. Grappa and Fern are sweet fillies, but they’re horrendous gossips. I should have guessed they’d find you, you’ve been talk of the Court for quite a while.”
“Really?” Cobblestone asked. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Libra smiled. “Probably because you haven’t come out of your room in a week and a half,” she said. “That tends to impact your grasp of Court gossip.”
Cobblestone flushed. “I guess so,” she mumbled. “Has it been that obvious?”
“I’m afraid so,” Libra said with a rueful smile. “Is there a reason for the self-imposed exile?”
“I don’t do well around strangers,” Cobblestone said. “And I don’t really know what the rules are around this place. I figured it was better to play it safe. I’ve mostly been going from here to the kitchens and back.”
Libra rummaged around in her robes. “That was actually one of the reasons I was checking up on you,” she said. She withdrew a small pendant from her robes, a blue stone sparkling in the morning sunshine. “This stone should allow you access to most areas of the Regia,” she said. “The places it won’t unlock are mostly servants’ quarters and rooms you’d really have no business being in anyway. Lady Everstar’s study comes to mind.”
Cobblestone took the necklace, slinging it around her neck. “Thank you,” she said.
“You’ll use it on your way back,” Libra said. “Put your robes on, you’re going to meet your fellow apprentice.”
“Serale?” Cobblestone asked. “I think we’ve met before.”
“Not Serale,” Libra replied. “Your fellow apprentice. There’s a difference, which I will explain when we reach the courtyard.” She looked askance at Hob, who had settled into a light doze, from which he occasionally cracked a gleaming amber eye at her. “Bring the cat,” she decided. “Might as well stop him from getting into mischief.”
The calm of the courtyard, still under a cloudy sky, the trees surrounding it quite bare, was broken by a loud crack and a flash of violet light, and where there had been empty cobbles stood two ponies, each wearing identical black robes and looking almost heroic. At least until the smaller of the two toppled over, causing the cat on her back to leap for safety. Cobblestone picked herself back up, straightening her hat and dusting herself off with a grumble.
“Next time, warn me,” she grumbled.
“Next time, warn me…?” Libra prompted.
“Please warn me next time, Magus,” Cobblestone said after a moment.
Libra nodded approvingly. “Better,” she said. “Much better.”
There was another flash of light, and a third pony was sharing the courtyard with them. Serale shook her head as if too clear it, and shivered, though her robes kept her perfectly warm. “I doubt I’ll ever get used to that,” she said, straightening her robes out. She locked eyes with Cobblestone and grinned.
“Isn’t this exciting?” she asked brightly. “If I had to have an apprenticeship with anypony, I’d hoped it would be you!”
Cobblestone returned the smile, feeling some of her stress evaporate. “The feeling’s mutual,” she said.
“Serale, Cobblestone, please attend,” Libra said expectantly, sitting down on a nearby bench. A chill wind swept through the towers of the Regia, whistling through the courtyard, and Cobblestone surmised form their position that they were on the north side of the castle, quite a ways away from her quarters. She’d never have made it out here on her own.
The two apprentices sat down, looking at Libra expectantly, Hob curled between them. Libra’s horn flashed, and a small chest appeared in front of her. Twin locks clicked open, and the lid opened with a creak, though they could not see the contents inside.
“Today marks the first day of your training under me,” Libra said. “We will meet in the afternoons at the third bell until we leave next week. If you do well, we shall finish by suppertime. If you do not meet my standards, we will continue until you do. During the time I have you, you will address me by my rank, pay attention, do your best work, and treat one another with respect. I know rivalries are traditional,” she said, holding up a hoof, “And I will not discourage competition. But you will do so in a respectful manner. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Magus Libra,” Serale and Cobblestone chimed at the same time.
“I recommend you do your homework in the evenings, after supper,” she continued. “That way you can review it over the course of the day and come to me with questions when we meet. Missed assignments will meet with punishment. I also recommend a good night’s sleep, and that you not have loose or fancily done-up hair,” she said, looking at Serale pointedly. “There is always the potential for singeing.”
Serale reflexively grabbed at the blonde of her mane, nodding quickly. Cobblestone stifled a snicker at the sight of the normally poised pony trembling like a frightened schoolfilly at the thought of singed bangs.
“Now,” Libra said, lifting a metallic ball out of the chest. “This will be your first task. This ball is made of a special substance called adamantium. Most adamantium you see today is made in one particular way, which allows it to resist damage from magic. The other method of forging is much more uncommon. This ball,” she explained, lifting it to about chest height, “Absorbs magic. You are going to lift it as high as you can.”
She let it go, where it fell with a rather final-sounding thud onto the ground. Serale and Cobblestone looked at each other uneasily. It looked heavy to begin with, which would have made things difficult even without the fact that it apparently ate magic.
“Fine,” Cobblestone said. “I’ll go first.” She focused on the ball, and without much thought in the way of subtlety, grabbed it with her magic, trying to yank it into the air. The ball rattled on the ground, Cobblestone strained a bit harder, and managed to get it about six inches off of the ground before she had to release it, gasping.
“It’s so heavy!” she said breathlessly. “And it’s like trying to grab something covered in oil, except it’s also absorbing all the power you put into it.”
“Your technique is admirably simple,” Libra said, “But adamantium requires a bit more finesse. Instead of looking at it like a weight to be lifted or pulled, think of it as a bubble floating in a current of magic.”
Cobblestone set her hooves and tried again. This time, instead of just grabbing it, she ran her magic along the edges of the sphere. It wasn’t completely smooth, she realized. There were tiny imperfections, places where a stream of magic might be able to grab on. She swirled her will along the outside, forming a sort of funnel cloud of power. Grunting, she noticed that sparks were flying from her horn, spiraling up in a nonexistent breeze. The sphere rattled again, spun about twice, and then lifted into the air.
Cobblestone concentrated, making sure the magical current could flow under the sphere as well, providing a cushion for it to rest on as she drew it up, first to six inches, then eight, and finally a solid ten. Higher and higher it rose, until it hovered about a half-meter off of the ground, spinning in place. Cobblestone, reaching her limit, grunted, sweat beading her brow. She could sense something, a strange resonance in the metal, but before she could explore what it was, her magic gave out as all of the air rushed out of her lungs with it.
“Very well done!” Libra told the panting pony, examining the sphere. “Good application of force. I could tell you were visualizing much more clearly.”
“Thanks,” Cobblestone managed, her face beet-red. “Not my best work.”
Libra only smiled and motioned for Serale to try. The blonde mare examined the ball closely, placing a hoof on it before walking around the perimeter of the ball, examining it from every angle. Her tail flicked agitatedly as she tried to settle on the right way to approach things. Finally, she appeared to come to a conclusion. She set her hooves, gritted her teeth, and her horn flared into life, light green energy reaching out for the sphere.
It was hard, terribly hard, made more so by the fact that she had only ever studied magic in theory until very recently. Twice her magic sputtered as she lost focus, and she was rigid, uncomfortable in her movements, focused more on maintaining control than actually accomplishing her task.
“Easy, Serale,” Libra said. “Concentrate on the ball. Block out distractions, just like I taught you.”
Serale spluttered, spat, and strained, but the ball remained firmly on the ground. Finally, with a last, desperate toss of her head, the ball lifted from the ground, rising a solid ten inches before Serale, flushed with her own success, lost focus, sending the silver sphere tumbling to the ground.
“Good,” Libra said. “You’ve got the idea, all you need is the practical application. A very fine first attempt. Care to try again?”
Serale shook her head. “Not until I’ve had practice with some other things first,” she said. “I’m still getting used to teacups.”
Libra said nothing, only putting the ball away. From within the chest, she withdrew a small jar, made of what appeared to be a grayish clay. “This next exercise is a test of your fine control,” she said. “Without breaking the jar, open it and retrieve the contents.”
Cobblestone, looking closely at the jar, noticed that it appeared very fragile. Opening it without breaking the pot would be difficult. How it had survived being stored with the massive adamantium ball she could only guess. Taking it gingerly, she set it down on the ground. With her magic, she gave a slight tug on the lid, with what should have been enough force to open it, only to find that it was stuck fast. Frowning, she examined it more closely, letting her magic permeate the entire vessel. Immediately, she could sense the problem.
Inside the jar was a maze of paths and tumblers, part maze and part lock. To open it, she’d need to get at least three tumbler-pegs into slots around the lid, and they were arranged in such a way that moving one a certain way would move another peg a different way. Idly, she speculated that if she were trying to open this to get at the contents, she’d probably smash the thing and have done with it.
For a career thief like her, it presented an interesting challenge. Carefully, she fiddled with the tiny pegs, noting how each one moved. Gradually, over a course of minutes, a solution formed inside her head. Almost instinctively, she jimmied the puzzle one way, then another, moving peg after peg. There were multiple solutions, she was sure, but one stood out clearer than the others. Concentrating, she managed one peg, then another. The third resisted her for a bit longer, but soon, it fell into place, and the lid came away. Reaching inside with her magic, she felt around for the object it held, and removed a simple pebble.
“Four minutes and eighteen seconds,” Libra said. “Very good.”
She took the pebble and replaced it into the clay vessel, replacing the lid. There was a clatter as all the tumblers reset, and she handed it to Serale, who set it on the ground gingerly, not trusting her magic to keep it suspended.
Cobblestone watched as Serale let her magic wash over the pot in the same way, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Her gaze flickered back and forth, and suddenly, she beamed.
“I know this puzzle!” she announced. “I saw it in…oh, I forget which book it was, but I remember this!”
She focused again, gaining confidence. “Let’s see…if I move that one there, and then move the one below to the right…and then…oops!”
She grimaced. “Lost it. Hang on.”
There was a rapid clicking, and within two minutes, the pot lay open. Carefully, she reached inside with her magic and handed the pebble to Libra, who beamed at her. “Three minutes and fifty eight seconds.”
Replacing the pot, Libra rummaged around in the trunk, and Cobblestone and Serale peered closer, curious to see what else she would come up with. At last, Libra straightened up, gripping what appeared to be a needle and thread.
“You will each work together,” she said, “This is an exercise of precision. Thread the needle.”
Cobblestone and Serale both looked at one another. “Do you want thread or needle?” Cobblestone asked.
“I’ll take thread,” Serale said, “You can hold a needle steadier than I can.”
Cobblestone reached for the needle with her magic, and Serale the thread. Hovering closer to one another, Cobblestone held the needle as still as she could. Serale approached with the thread, but before she could push it through the eye, the needle spun away, almost escaping Cobblestone’s grasp and impaling Hob, who eyed it suspiciously.
“Really?” Cobblestone complained.
“I take it that wasn’t intentional,” Serale said. “Try again?”
“This time I’ll hold it as hard as I can,” Cobblestone said. “Go.”
Again the thread approached, and again the needle danced away, though not as far. Cobblestone felt a strange twinge in her magic, similar to the feeling she had gotten from the metal sphere. She held up a hoof. “Hang on.”
She felt around in her robes, finally producing a familiar set of metal strips. Libra seemed perplexed as to where they had come from, Serale seemed perplexed as to what they were. “Lockpicks,” Cobblestone explained. “Not much for picking locks, but they do have their uses.”
She held one up to the needle, and just as she had thought, the pick shot from her hoof and stuck fast to the pin. “Magnetic,” she said. “The stupid needle and thread are magnetized.”
“Do you have a way around it?” Serale asked. “We could try using the other end of the thread, but…”
Cobblestone ignored her, focusing instead on the needle. That strange twinge was still there, more obvious now that she had noticed it. Instead of the needle, Cobblestone chose instead to focus on that odd feeling. It felt almost like she could reach out and touch it, a fragile thing for all the trouble it had caused. Experimentally, she prodded it with her magic. Suddenly, a spark jumped from the needle, landing in her mane, which smoked slightly. Cobblestone brushed at her mane to make sure it wasn’t on fire, and examined the needle again. The twinge had gone.
“I think I fixed it,” she said, perhaps unnecessarily. “Try now.”
Serale cautiously approached with the thread, and although it took a few tries, she managed to get the thread in at last. She let out a sigh, not realizing she had been holding her breath. “How did you know?” she asked.
Cobblestone shrugged. “I’ve always been good with metal and magnets and stuff. They’re easier to work with than fire or other things, at least for me.”
“I’d wondered if your ability with electromagnetism applied to smaller objects as well,” Libra said. “That’s a promising sign. If the control for that kind of thing is there, strength follows easily enough. Very well done, you two!”
Taking the needle and thread, she replaced them in the chest. “We’ll call it a short day,” she said. “I expected it to be a bit brief, but you two performed much better than I thought you would. Now comes the second part of your assignments for today.”
She pulled out two identical volumes from the trunk, holding them out for the two of them to take. “These are introductory texts to magic. They cover basic theory, ranging from application of will to the history of magic to practical applications for minor spells. Read the first two chapters tonight, and we’ll go over them tomorrow before practice! Any questions?”
Cobblestone raised a hoof, suddenly timid.
“Yes, Cobblestone?” Libra asked.
The brown haired ex-thief cleared her throat awkwardly, shuffling as she did. She appeared to vacillate, unsure of how to put what she was going to say, before finally deciding to just get it out. She took a deep breath, looked Libra in the eye, and in a clear, steady voice, said, “I don’t know how to read.”
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Oh nose D:
Reading is so amazing though.
Ha! Ha ha!
aw crap. how did they miss something like that?!?
5813421 Kinda expected really. She was a thief since she was very very young. At what point would she need to read, or have been taught to read?
Oh.
Well, shit.
Well isn't that going to put a damper on Libra's training plan. Still seeing fun times ahead and looking forward to more.
And by the way, what is the basis for the chapter names? I've tried going backwards and rearranging the letters but i've never really been good at those types of puzzles. Am I just spinning my gears on that angle?
5819417
I've been learning the basics of a new language, which is probably why you're not having much luck with rearranging the letters.
5819608
Oh really? What language if you don't mind my asking?
5819804
Irish.
5819828
Interesting choice. Must resist urge to make any clover or leprechaun puns.
Do you think we could get the translations sometime? Maybe a brief blurb in the notes?
And Thanks for the responses!
5820207
Google does have a translate function for Irish now, which has helped me immensely.
5823584
So, for those too lazy for it, Chapter 1 is Rivals, then Control, and thirdly is ... not translating? Oh well. still an interesting choice going this route.
A couple minor nits:
'Serale shook her head as if too clear it' should be 'to clear it'.
'Cobblestone surmised form their position' should be 'from their position'.
So Cobblestone must first learn how to read. Should have seen that hurdle coming. She said she never had formal education. That would include literacy.
>Serale shook her head as if too clear it
>Cobblestone surmised form their position that
Got some typos here
You called Fern Ivy in this chapter. Me thinks you let something slip
6632552
You can only give ponies plant names for so long before you start to get some wires crossed. Thanks for catching that!
Why switch measurement systems halfway through? I'm not sure, but I think that's a writing no-no.
Then again, i hated English classes when I was younger, so...
7190719
She's related to discord, he switches context mid-sentence all the time :P
Ah. Of course.