The Life and Times of an Un-magician.

by Between Lines

The Un-magician Finally Makes a Wish

I could still see the face of the shop pony as I placed the bundle of lenses and wires on the counter.

“Child,” he’d said to me, “I have seen many souls pass through my shop, each one seeking some special salve to their woes. I have seen the young and ambitious purchase tomes of power, hoping to carve their names into history with arcane fire. I have seen the weak and the fearful buy instruments of darkness, placing more faith in the shadows of the equine heart than its light. Many of these ponies have found failure, though some have succeeded on both paths, tis true.” He’d reached out then, and placed his hoof on mine. “But never have I seen a pony achieve anything with un-magic. Seriously, put that thing back and buy something worthwhile.”

Of course, I hadn’t listened, and now as I sat at a table of steel, light, and stone, a stormy sea of clouds churning around me, I couldn’t put his words out of my head.

“So, if all parties are agreed,” the Lord of Whispers, or Whispy as he now insisted on being called, said. “The lease will be paid in the form of services, hereafter referred to as ‘miracles’, not to exceed a rate of four per lunar orbit, except in the event of extra compensation as provided under chapter 3, subsections A through G.” He pushed a sheaf of paper across the table to me.

I stared silently at the paper. I had summoned a being beyond equine comprehension and then punched him in the face. His response had been to sit me down and write up a rental contract 'to avoid further distress.' I wasn’t entirely sure whether to laugh or to cry. I ultimately settled for sighing as I picked up the quill and put it to the contract, signing my name where he indicated.

“There.” I spat out the quill on the ground, letting out a huff. “Couldn’t you just pass out some commandments, call down some thunder and lightning, then remake this world into a paradise?”

“Yeah, if I was an idiot.” He scanned the paper for a moment, before nodding and tucking it into the shadows of his form. “Maybe most higher lifeforms are content to just waggle their powers around left and right, but I personally take pride in my work. Slow and steady wins the race.”

“Slow and steady wins the race,” I said. “From the thing that made me blow up a castle.”

“Yes, well, that which hesitates is lost,” Whispy said.

I would have screamed, but my throat just wasn’t up to it anymore. Instead I just sort of gurgled as I ground my face into the table. The stone was soothingly rough and uncomfortable. It felt right.

“Are you okay?” Whispy asked.

“No,” I said. “No, I am not.”

“Well, if you’d like to spend a miracle, perhaps I could help?” I glanced up just far enough to see him grinning in a way I could only be described as earnest.

“No.” I thumped my head back into the table. “I’m good for now.”

“Aw,” he said.

I continued to savor the rough yet cold texture of the table. It was a suitable metaphor for my life right now. I could take solace in it. The modest pain of the blocky edges as they dug into my face seemed like such a mundane, manageable pain compared to the existential irritation I was being forced to endure.

“You sure I can’t help?” Whispy asked. “You look pretty awful.”

“Gee, maybe it’s because I had to sit through drafting a lease at three in the morning after bouncing off a city.” I dug my face even harder into the table, before proceeding to say something I should probably have thought through a little better. “I just wish I could get some sleep.”

“Oh, that’s easily done!” Whispy said.

I barely had time to flinch before there was a prick at the base of my neck, and the world was snuffed out like a candle.

---

The worst part of waking up is that moment of transition into the real world. You begin in the wonderful world of sleep, where you lay easy and free of all your worldly obligations, content to simply be one with the universe, which just so happens to consist of warmth and fluffiness. And then, like some great tidal wave, the realities of your life come rising up in the distance, a mighty wave of anxiety and responsibility tall enough to blot out the sky. Then it crashes down on you.

“What time is it?!” I jumped upright so fast I was vaguely surprised I didn’t fling myself on another trans-Equestrian flight.

“Five in the morning,” Whispy said, causing my heart to skip a beat.

“What, on the next day?!” I couldn’t possibly feel this good after two hours of sleep. I had to have gotten twenty six.

“Nooo, on the same day. Unless your days are less than two hours long.” He turned and squinted at me. “Are they? Your sun’s already super weird, so I guess it’s possible...”

“You mean I… only slept for two hours?” I was dumbfounded. I felt this good after only two hours?

“Yeah.” Whispy shrugged, which was a strange thing to see on a being without shoulders. “I mean, I helped some. You have no idea how inept the equine brain is at self-maintenance. It’s honestly appalling.”

There was still time! I quickly hopped off the table, and dashed back down the steps of the tower, moving so swiftly that I had to catch myself on the wall several times as the path spiraled back down to the walkway I’d entered on. Faster than I thought possible, I was across the walkway and back upon my basement steps, my legs burning as I scrambled up them. My eyes caught a glimpse of the clock as I tore through the kitchen.

5:29 and maybe 50 seconds!

I skidded on the smooth tile of the dining area, costing me precious time. Outside, I could already see him dashing across the street, that manic grin plastered clean across his face. With every ounce of strength in my body, I threw myself at the door and rammed the lock open. At the very last second, I threw the door wide.

“Aaaaaahhhhhhh!” With that single cry, Dynamic Entry flew through the open door and straight into a table, flipping himself clean over it and onto the floor.

“Hey Dynamic,” I said, panting heavily. “So close. Also, you have issues.”

Dynamic slowly pulled himself upright with the aid of the table, or at least as far as he could before the already brutalized furniture folded like a house of cards. With a crack and a squeak, Dynamic went right back on the floor. I was glad the table was cheap, or I might not have enjoyed the sight so much.

“Here.” I trotted over and lent him a hoof, helping the police pony back upright. It was a wonder that they hadn’t booted the whack-job of a unicorn off the force yet, but apparently he was really good at what he did. Which, if his nigh-obsessive behavior was any indication, revolved largely around smashing through doors. That and the C.C.P.D. wasn’t exactly eager to lose anypony who’d sign on.

“Thanks.” He gradually dusted himself off, knocking some splinters out of his midnight blue coat. The fur had been through far worse, given the multiple scars crosshatched across it. “Sorry about the table.”

“It was cheap for a reason,” I said “As long as you stop short of the counter, I’m happy. And as long as you pay for it.”

“Ugh, I hope it was really cheap then.” He shot me a concerned look. “Everything alright? You’re usually way more on your game.”

“It’s been a… weird day,” I said.

“No kidding.” His face split into a grin, and he snickered. “I heard Princess Sparkle’s castle exploded. And this is after high and mighty Captain Nightshade made such a huge fuss about putting a royal detachment out there to guard it. Can’t even find the pony who did it either. He’s lucky he’s a thestral. If he were a pegasus I bet he’d be preening himself bald under all the stress.”

“Hey! It’s hardly Captain Nightshade’s fault!” I would know, after all. “It’s not like he was there himself.”

“Pffft,” Dynamic rolled his eyes. “Like it would have mattered. Those guards are all equally useless. Just look at the changeling invasion!”

“Again with the changeling invasion!” I threw up my hooves. “You know he got promoted for defending an orphanage with nothing more than a broom?”

“No, he got promoted because Shining Armor got bumped up to prince!” He threw up his own hooves. “The equestrian military is just one gigantic study in rampant nepotism!”

“As opposed to the C.C.P.D. which is a gigantic study in whining!”

“My points are valid!”

“Sure, for a whiner!”

“You just think Captain Nightshade has a cute butt!”

“And you’re just jealous you don’t!”

“My butt is adorable!”

“Yeah, if you like patchwork quilts!”

“Ahem!” We both stopped short as a third voice intruded, and my heart locked up as I recognized Whispy’s voice. I whipped around to face him, only to find myself staring at a pony.

Mind, calling him a pony was a bit generous. There was something subtly off about his figure, a looming and spindly tallness that wasn’t quite enough to be nightmarish, but just enough to make looking at him uncomfortable. It didn’t help that I’d yet to turn the lights on, and he’d chosen to lurk at the extreme edge of sight. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d suddenly scuttled up the walls or something, though I sincerely hoped he wouldn’t.

“Humble,” Dynamic shot me a serious look, suddenly surprisingly mature. “Do you know this stallion?”

“Uh, oh, y-yes.” It took me a moment to shake off my unease, and manage a smile. “He’s my new… tenant!”

“Tenant?” Dynamic raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you could rent out your bakery like that.”

“I’m more of a live-in assistant,” Whispy said. “At least until I find a place I can afford in the city.” He smiled, which might have been endearing if his teeth weren’t too big and too sharp. “I don’t have my hopes up though.”

“Yeah, I hear that.” Dynamic’s posture slowly relaxed, though I could see he wasn’t quite at ease. Not that I could blame him. “Practically living in a tent myself.”

“Indeed.” That smile of his took on a wicked cast, and I felt my heart sink a moment before he spoke his next words. “I’m surprised you don’t live more comfortably though, as a civil servant. I hear the royal guard barracks are quite comfortable.”

“Oh, don’t get me started!” Any tension immediately dropped from Dynamic as he slipped right back into rant mode. “You know the entire quartermaster system up there is a sham! Upholding royal dignity my butt! It’s just a thinly veiled excuse for the privileged second and third children of the spoiled nobility to pretend at chivalry on the taxpayer’s bit! Last I checked, the thread count of your sheets shouldn’t be a factor in defense spending!”

“Oh?” Whispy asked in a tone of such sincere curiosity I could have wrung his skinny neck on the spot. “That does seem rather unfair.”

“Oh it’s beyond unfair! Here the C.C.P.D. is, busting our butts on the beat, while they strut around like they’re actually doing their share of the work!” And now he’d started to pace around, waving a free hoof in the air wildly between steps. “And don’t get me started on their hidebound traditionalism! Every one of them is allergic to even the slightest shred of sensibility! Blackened steel armor, or maybe even toughened cloth? Nah, let’s all march around in solid gold. It sends a stronger impression! The impression that we’re all idiots!” I wasn’t sure, but I thought he was actually starting to foam at the mouth. “They were beaten by bugs. Naked bugs with no weapons. Naked unarmed bugs whose sole claim to fame is being able to disguise themselves when they’re all terrible actors!”

“Sorry to butt in,” I said, stuffing a donut in Dynamic’s mouth before he could hyperventilate. “I need to have a word with my assistant briefly.”

“Mmmmf,” Dynamic said.

I quickly hustled Whispy out of the room, and away from any witnesses. I then proceeded to try and choke him to death. “What are you doing? He’s crazy enough when you’re not winding him up like a clock!”

“But I think he has legitimate points!” Whispy said, or at least I thought that was what he said. It was very gurgly and wheezy.

“Well I think he’s going to have a psychotic fit if you don’t cut it out!” I squeezed his neck a little harder, and gave him a shake for good measure. “So help me, if he keels over I am picking you up and tossing you back through that door!”

“But then you’d miss out on your miracles,” Whispy said.

“Nnnnnggggghhhh!” I finally released him, if only so I could brace my hooves on the wall and bang my skull into it. My throat still wasn’t up to screaming.

“Want me to fix your throat?” Whispy asked.

“No!” My mind flashed back to my errant admission of wanting sleep. “What I want is...”

I paused. A part of me wanted to say something like ‘for you to go away,’ but he was totally right about my miracles. Here I was, a possible fugitive from some of the most powerful ponies in Equestria, and so far what did I have to show for it? So far, a good two hour long nap.

“I want to be safe from all the flipping princesses and their buddies that I peeved off letting you in here,” I finally said.

“Oh, that one’s free,” he said, prompting me to shoot him a quizzical look. “Hey, I’m not going to trade you wishes in return for a situation you have to wish yourself out of. At that point I might as well just trade you one less wish to start with and not be a huge jerk about it. I’m mischievous, not cruel.”

“After you con me into blowing one on a nap?” I said.

He shot me a flat look. “Tell me you didn’t seriously need that nap.”

“I… nnnngh, fine.” I huffed and slowly got back on all four hooves.

“Look,” Whispy said. “It’s clear I’ve wound you a little too much, so here: one bonus miracle. As listed under chapter 3, subsection D of the lease agreement.”

“For real?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes. “For real. It’s on the paper and everything.”

“Hm.” I leaned back against the wall, trying to let my irritation settle. So, one free wish, or rather miracle. Funny, back when I’d first bought that stupid gizmo for the ritual chamber it had seemed so important that I be able to bend reality to my will. Now that I had the real and honest chance to, my mind was suddenly oddly blank.

Then, slowly, an idea began to take shape. A horrible, terrible, wonderful idea. An idea almost as delicious as the prize it promised. I slowly licked my lips.

“Here’s what I wish...”

---

I actually wound up spending my free wish on just getting the bakery in order. After the mess my morning had become, I was seriously behind on the morning’s work. It actually turned out to be a really mundane process. Apparently Whispy was perfectly content to just fulfill requests by hoof.

“If everything is theatrical, nothing is,” he’d said, shortly before burning his hooves on a muffin pan and cursing in a language that sounded like whetstones attacking each other.

Afterwards, however, I’d gotten down to the real miracle.

The royal training grounds weren’t a place I visited often. Baking was a full time job, especially in Canterlot where being closed at the wrong time could mean accidentally snubbing the client that would make or break you. When you were on the bottom of the totem pole, every day was a climb just to stay there. Still, some days I could spare the time.

Especially days when Captain Nightshade was training.

“As beautiful as he is deadly,” I sighed, letting myself get lost in the spectacle.

If somepony had asked, ‘what does Captain Nightshade look like?’ and another pony had answered, ‘oh, he’s brown with a green mane,’ I would have bucked them. I would have bucked them in the face, through a wall, and probably through whatever stood beyond. Because Captain Nightshade was not just a brown coat and a green mane. He was so much more.

His mahogany coat glistened in the afternoon heat, his sweat only making it more glossy and lustrous in the shining light of Celestia’s sun. His mane danced in the breeze, just long enough to catch the wind with every motion, his evergreen locks moist and glittering like morning dew on fresh pine branches. His wings walked the perfect line between elegance and strength, their nocturnal lines brimming with dark mystery, while their velvety skin promised an embrace more warm and intimate than any feather could ever be. And amidst it all, his eyes gleamed like polished amber, rich, deep, clear, and sharp.

He was incredible.

“So this is what the ideal pony looks like,” Whispy said, snapping me out of my reverie. “Huh.”

“Ehrm, yes, yes he is.” I fought the urge to just melt back into my daydream as Nightshade continued his training regimen, leaving a trail of exhausted and beaten sparring partners in his wake. “And that’s why I want him.”

“Him?” I could hear Whispy’s eyebrows go up. “You want to spend a miracle on him?”

I pulled myself away long enough to shoot him a vicious look. “Yeah, I do.”

“Pfffft.” He rolled his eyes. “Power and experience greater than most type II civilizations, and you spend it getting your groove on.”

“Are you going to whine, or are you going to miracle?” I said.

“Fine! Fine. How much do you want him? Like, drooling love slave, soulmate, smitten coltfriend?” Somehow his continued eye rolling was even more audible than his raised eyebrows. “Or do you just want a chance so you can feel good about yourself and pretend you’re not basically cheating your butt off?”

“Oh, I know I’m cheating. I don’t care.” I licked my lips. “Let’s go with smitten coltfriend. The cute phase where they’re just awkward enough to make you feel out of their league.”

“You know,” Whispy said, his voice carrying the slightest glimmer of respect. “At least you know where you stand and own it. Though, I’m going to warn you, there’s absolutely going to be huge amounts of social fallout from this. Like, this idea is evidently terrible.”

“Mmm, anything that leads to a butt like that can’t be a terrible idea.”

“Okay, I’m officially remembering this for an ‘I told you so’ later. Still, I suggest you sleep well.” His eye rolling at this point was practically deafening. “Tomorrow you’ll be entertaining the most eligible stallion in Canterlot.”

I just grinned, and indulged the urge to rub my front hooves together wickedly. “Excellent.”

A moment later a guard approached us from the grounds.

“Excuse me?” He said. “I’ve been told to ask you to leave. You’re creeping out the trainees.”

Author's Note:

To be continued...

Comments

[Hopeful_Ink_Hoof]

So, does that mean Dynamic Entry do this every morning? Comes charging into the bakery at six o'clock sharp to get his morning donut?

[wlam]

I am really getting a kick out of that whole "Cthulhu is a goofy doofus" thing. Revenge of the nerds indeed. "I will make you listen to whining armchair bureacrats" is certainly a more effective threat than "you will be consumed forever in the bowels of the netherhells."

7671810
Well, the whole "a tune rang through the castle" line certainly makes it sound that way. That's pretty unambiguous about the music being there in-story, which is where I got that impression from. Maybe that's something you meant to rephrase a little, then.

[horizon]

I am now confused about the timeline. At the beginning of this chapter, Whispy has just been summoned, and his first act is to start working out the contract with Humble that formalized their relationship. But at the end of chapter 1, Humble characterizes Whispy as "That which I had sworn in violation of all laws and order to serve" and the punch in the face is not mentioned in the next chapter, so that makes Chapter 2 a flashback. But^2 this chapter mentions the castle destruction as being in the past, so it can't be.

That aside, I am enjoying this thoroughly. Whispy is best wish granter.

[Between Lines]

7673989 Does that suggestion go for both the short and the long description? Or just one in particular?

Also, tossed in a comment about the punch to fix up the timeline a little bit, because the beginning was a falshback, but the transition could have been a bit clearer, you're right.

[Latrans]

My Like and Track: you have them both!

*smashes laptop on the floor* ANOTH--- Oh... horseapples...

[QueenMoriarty]

You’re sun’s already super weird

Your

[Mare Imbrium]

So you combine the evils of a genie with the evils of lawyers and you get... a lease agreement for a new flatmate paid in wishes? This can only end in chaos.

I'm not sure what to make of this "un-magic" thing, though.

Also, I thought after the first chapter that Humble might be interested in Twilight Sparkle, what with the whole magic association and the mother of all pranks. (It would be sweet, she could bring back Golden Oaks!)

[erictheblue]

7671904 not only that, he tries to break down the door every day! that's why Humble was in such a hurry to open the door!

[erictheblue]

Then, slowly, an idea began to take shape. A horrible, terrible, wonderful idea.

[Arngeir]

I have SO many questions, but I am also intrigued.
Please continue.

[Orbiting Kettle]

Should have read this sooner.

Or maybe not, as I'm craving for more...

[FanOfMostEverything]

Hmm. I'm not sure how to feel about this one. I'm a lot more sensitive about blowing up Twilight's house than I thought. Still, you've definitely piqued my interest. I hope to see where you go with this.