• Published 2nd Apr 2015
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Memoirs of a Magic Earth Pony - The Lunar Samurai



My name is Starswirl and I am an earth pony. This book is simply a collection of memoirs about my life. It details my work in theoretical magic, and the events surrounding my rise to fame and fall to exile. This is my life.

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XXI. Separation

It was a Wednesday deep in winter. The season was in full swing and I was still stuck in that mode of depression I had been in since my denial. To spare you the laborious details, my studies were not going well at all. I hated cereal production, I hated that thought that I was living in a cell. No matter how hard I tried, I could not understand my coursework simply because it reminded me of the life I had tried so hard to escape.

I had changed my perspective over those weeks of isolation. Instead of wishing I could be studying magic, I began to despise my pursuit of it in the first place. I told myself that I should have known the fate that was presented to me that day. I began to hate myself for pursuing the unattainable because it gave me a glimpse of the joy that I would never have. It was like being teased with visions of heaven while living through hell. I would have been better off not knowing of it.

The day started as most of the others had. I awoke to the fear that I was missing class. My schedule was the one thing that provided any semblance of security in my life. Maybe that is why I developed a nervous tick for checking the clock exactly three times to ensure the time was as I thought. I was obsessed with time, the one boundary in my life that was always running from me, the one thing that truly controlled my life. I rose from the floor and looked over to the clock on the wall.

I let out a sigh of relief. Good, I’m not late yet, I thought as laboriously walked out of my room. It felt as though chains were linked to my hooves. It was difficult to move, but I always told myself that I had to, that I needed to continue on toward the destination of my first class.

Agriculture 101 was such a biting topic to me. I didn’t want to go to class as it represented the very nature of my prison. I took my seat in the very back row of the auditorium and withdrew my notebook and quill. That was my routine, however the tools were rarely used. Most of the time I found my mind wandering over the various ponies in my class that furiously jotted down notes as the pompous lecturer soliloquized about farming. I always wondered how many of them could see the cage that they were so obviously trapped in. I wanted to see somepony else drawing the same conclusions I was, but my peers were either studiously taking notes, or sleeping.

No pony was concerned, no pony saw the trap that I felt ensnared in. I wanted to be different, to truly make an impact, and I had come to understand that farming, or any manner of agricultural work was completely worthless to that desire. I didn’t pay attention to the lecturer, the only thing I was waiting for in that class was for the lot of us to rise to our hooves after our dismissal.

Once we were released, then came that dreaded hour of waiting. Most ponies bundled themselves up to withstand the cold or sought shelter indoors, but I simply stood in the courtyard. It was what I did every day, half wishing to be confronted by somepony to help me, to offer me something, but no pony ever did. I guess that they were expected to keep to themselves, that no one would reach out to me because they ‘didn’t know what I was going through’ or something along those lines.

I often wonder how different I would have been if someone had come to talk to me during those weeks when I would stand outside, unmoving, next to the flagpole. It was my cry for help, the one thing that I could do to possibly draw attention to myself, but nopony ever cared enough to speak to me. That day, however, was the first snow. Sure we had a few flurries here and again, but this was the first thick snow, the first one that actually would form drifts on the ground. As always, I remained steadfast, waiting for my next class to start. I wasn’t expecting anypony to speak to me, and reality met those expectations. I figured some were talking about me, that strange pony that stood in the middle of the snow with nothing but a saddlebag to keep him warm, but I never knew if my thoughts were true.

The white flakes of snow fell like ash from the sky. Everything was cold and the snow soon removed the remaining green grass from my vision. I remained steadfast, letting the drifts collect around my hooves as my teeth cried out to chatter. In a way, this was another form of self-punishment for letting myself see the joy of magic only to have it snuffed from my life once more. I wanted to forget it all ever happened, I wished I never had changed from that prideful bastard that lusted after the power of that earth pony who taught my Agriculture 101 class. Then, even in my pride, I had something to hold onto, a castle to form as a foundation for my life, but I had destroyed it and pursued a fleeting hope that was unattainable.

The clock struck 9:45, heralding the start of my finance class. I did a little better in that class, the professor was more lenient, but I was still scraping by. Again I walked to the doors of the auditorium and took my seat in the back of the class and questioned the lives of the ponies around me. I just wanted something to stand out as familiar, that I wasn’t alone in thinking that the world was holding us hostage in a cell of luxury, but nopony else was. I was, as I had come to believe wholeheartedly, alone.

Class ended much as the previous had, with everypony standing and exiting through the back door. I was part of that crowd, but I simply was going through the motions I had done before. I knew where I needed to be next and that was where I was going. The next stop was the cafeteria, where I would inevitably wait in line for a sandwich, find my spot in the farthest corner of the building, and eat in solace.

It was routine, something I did every day like the hundreds of ponies around me. I was part of a system, one that I couldn’t seem to escape, one that was eating away at my soul every minute of every day. I was dying.

My routine had turned caustic, my life becoming a gaping hole of emptiness and sorrow. I couldn’t eat, a common occurrence during lunchtime. And so, after swallowing a single flower, I promptly threw away my food and left the dining hall toward my next class: History.

As much as I loved the concepts of history, I couldn’t pay attention during the class. No matter how hard Professor Bales tried, I was unable to follow his grandiose stories. I was sinking deeper and deeper into a world that I feared worse than death. Class ended and I realized I had taken in nothing during that hour. I couldn’t have told you a single word he said during his lecture. I was exhausted with everything in my life. Everything I felt was cold and empty.

The journey to applied chemistry was always the hardest. I had to run, and running in the snow was a difficult endeavor indeed, but harder still was having to detour around the Union. So many memories of grandiose magic and powerful spells came back to my mind. I remembered Amethyst and Evenstar, two ponies I hadn’t seen since I had been barred from the Union. That massive ornate building represented everything that I wanted to be and yet I knew I would never return. I knew I would never set hoof in that building again. I knew I would never glimpse the wondrous world that hid behind those magnificent doors.

I galloped past the building and into my applied chemistry class. Professor Spark glanced at the clock as I raced into the room. “Late again.”

I simply nodded as I trotted to my desk. I wasn’t too eager to share why I was late, so I just took the point deductions instead. I was already slated to retake the course, what was another ten points off going to matter? I took my seat and promptly ignored my professor once more. Paying attention was impossible so instead I began to question everything that my life meant up to this point. Was this where I truly wanted to be? Was this what I wanted to do with my life?

Well, the answer was unequivocally no. I didn’t want to do this for the rest of my life. Plodding through courses that pained me to think of, but I was at a loss for what to do. I had no escape, no way I could possibly leave that place behind. I was trapped, and I was starting to panic.

Class ended much as the rest had, but this time my professor stopped me.

“Starswirl? May I speak with you for a minute?”

I nodded.

He waited for the rest of the students to file out of the classroom before starting once more. “I’m worried about you. Something changed a few months ago and you started attending my class again, but you seem different than you were.”
I had no response. Instead, I simply turned to the door to leave.

“Starswirl,” Spark pleaded, “I can tell you’re hurting.”

I didn’t respond.

“I’m concerned. I think you have a lot of potential. Don’t waste it.”

“It’s already been wasted,” I muttered as I turned to the door. Spark tried to stop me but I wasn’t going to listen to him anymore. I wasn’t going to listen to anypony anymore. I was going to focus on the only thing I knew that could solve my problems. My life, as much as I hated to say it, was over.