The spellweavers' lesson
Corduroy’s infirmary was besieged by an army of able-bodied teenagers. They were drilling a hole into the stone wall, installing glass windows, and there was a ginormous metal tank being constructed above her roof. Sundance was mystified by the sight of it, and couldn’t understand why a metal tank was needed. But the pegasus ponies armed with rivet guns made a terrific racket and took great pride in their work.
As he approached, the diamond dog nurse appeared in the open doorway, and she wore a pleased expression. “Good news, the ship’s doctor came down and had a look at Amber. She said that I’ve already done everything that she would have done, and she said that Amber will make a full recovery. Scarring should be minimal.”
That was good news, for certain.
Clapping her paws together, Corduroy practically gushed. “I’m going to have running water. Clean water. They’re making a simple but effective water filtration system with sand, clay, and gravel. They’re also installing a wood burning stove in here. And glass windows! Also, out back, there’s going to be some shower stalls so I can clean my patients. There will be scrubbing!”
The last line was delivered with a bit too much enthusiasm, and Sundance shivered. Corduroy had a thing for cleanliness, and who could blame her? But she was aggressive with her cleanliness, and as he had witnessed with his own eyes, resistance was useless. Futile, even. There was only clean and unclean, and Corduroy had a critical eye.
It was time to change the subject, before she decided that he looked a bit too scruffy.
“So, where are your patients now?” he asked.
“In the dining hall.” Corduroy took a moment to adjust her beanie and while she did so, she looked down at Sundance with a joyful expression of bliss. “My infirmary will be secure against the elements and almost modern. Now, if only we had proper laundry facilities.”
“Did somepony say something about laundry?” a bright-eyed unicorn asked. “I have a design for a pony-powered washing machine. It’s like a giant hamster wheel and you—”
“I can picture it already!” Corduroy shouted. “Can you build it?”
“Probably!”
Backing away, Sundance figured it was time to go.
Magic was, perhaps, Equestria’s greatest asset, or so Sundance believed. But watching magic from other lands put into practice by Equestrian unicorns was awe-inspiring. There was a brief lecture from an older, somewhat greying stodgy old unicorn, explaining the difference between Equestrian exceptionalism, which focused upon the power of the individual, and spellweaving, a practice performed in other parts of the world, where weak unicorns worked in unison.
A group of earth-shapers, each of them quite weak as individuals, easily excavated a massive hole when working together. Sundance watched in silent astonishment as the sextet of unicorns wove their magic together and worked as one singular entity. Was this what it was like way back in the day, when groups of unicorns moved the sun and moon around in the sky? Stony soil practically lept up and flew into a pile. As for the heavier boulders, they rolled out of the way, moving at a lazy pace.
In mere moments, there was a hole in the ground so that a foundation could be laid.
“Let us examine the natural order of things,” the stodgy old unicorn said as the spellweavers moved the displaced earth into a neat pile. “Earth ponies instinctually work their communal magic, and they do so together. Pegasus ponies”—he pointed in Sundance’s direction—“their weather teams still to this very day use their shared magic to tame feral weather. Why do you suppose this is? The magics that are of the utmost importance to our shared survival remain communal… but unicorn ponies at some point sought out individual glory.”
Sometimes, a single unicorn made a difference. Sundance thought of Cucumber, and Paradox. Neither of them seemed too concerned about glory. Though, he did have to admit that he didn’t know Paradox all that well, but so far, she had made a tremendous difference. As for Cucumber, one would be hard-pressed to find a pony more humble and dutiful than he.
Yet, Sundance could see the wisdom here. The sorts of unicorns that might join the Gringineers wouldn’t be too terribly powerful. Truly exceptional wizard-types would be off doing wizardly things. Their talent would take them elsewhere in life. At least, for Sundance, this seemed to be true. So for the weaker unicorns, this display of power might be appealing. Such a curious thing, the siren’s call of power. Even Paradox spoke of power as a desirable thing.
“As unicorns, we can do amazing, miraculous things on our own,” the stodgy old unicorn continued. “A single unicorn is a force to be reckoned with, never forget that. Never doubt that. But together… we are a tribe with collective amnesia. We forget our past glories. There was a time when we were truly strong… when we moved the sun. The unicorns of the seaponies still collectively help to maintain and control the tides. Without them, life in our oceans as we understand it would cease to exist. It isn’t glorious work, but it is necessary work. And that is why we’re here, together, learning a new way.”
“Remembering an older way,” a young freckled unicorn said.
The old grizzled unicorn almost, but not quite, smiled.
“Throw enough of us at a problem, and we can do anything,” said a fresh-faced youth. “Prince Gosling told me that too many of us think only about what we can and can’t do. We think of ourselves as singular entities, and so we frame all of our life experiences in one of two ways. What can be done, and what can’t. He said that we need to fix our thinking, so that we never think about what we can’t do, but rather, only what can be done together, and how many it might take. As he says, ‘Throw enough Gringineers at a problem until a solution is found.’ He’s the reason I’m here today.”
“He’s the reason a lot of us are here today,” a young filly added. She pointed up at her horn and her face became quite solemn. “I got fed up with feeling powerless. There was this feeling of greatness inside of me that my magic just wasn’t up for the task of expressing. Caused me some real problems.”
“It’s the practical application of Princess Twilight Sparkle’s magic of friendship, in a form we can understand.” As these words were spoken, a great multitude of nods moved through the crowd like a wave.
“So,” the old unicorn said to his students. “Gather into groups. Speak amongst yourselves. Get to know one another. Today, we’re going to learn about communal casting. Spellweaving, as it is called by many. Some of you already have experience, while others, this will be your first time. Don’t be shy.” He winked, and this time, he did smile. “Your first time should be exciting. Hold nothing back and go at it with all the enthusiasm you can muster. You’ll only be young once.”
Wanting to know more, wishing to understand, Sundance sat down to watch… and listen.
Sundance almost felt enlightened.
There was really no better way of putting it.
Oh, he didn’t feel smarter, or wiser, or even more capable; no. But there was a deep sense of satisfaction that he’d learned something profound, and that was more than enough to tip him into a state of near-euphoria, a sharp turnabout in mood from the melancholy he’d experienced on and off over the past few days. The grief was still there, but the keen sting was now blunted a bit.
Both Skyla and Nuance added their magic to the spellweaving. It was strange to think of them as labourers, as common workers, yet here they were, standing shoulder to shoulder, contributing whatever magic they had to offer. Sundance could scarcely imagine what it must have been like, lifting and moving Grandmother Oak with the power of one’s mind, but from the expression Nuance wore when it happened, it had to have been rapturous.
Grandmother Oak now laid upon her foundation and was secured in place. The plant-shapers now worked to smooth out her insides, to give it shape and form, a flat floor, gently curved walls, and an arched ceiling. It was a slow process, but mesmerising, easy to get lost in. As the gathered spellweavers poured their magic in, new life could be seen in the wood, which turned from grey to that of warm, rich, oak, beautiful almost golden hues. Old, gnarled burls smoothed out, gaping holes became windows.
The rooted end was now closed off, woven together, a fascinating, almost hypnotic mass of curled, interwoven knots. As for the other end, it was prepared for the planned tower, for which the foundation was now shaped. A cellar had been excavated, and soon, the space between the trunk and cellar would be sealed off. It would be an ideal home for Paradox, and a fine place for the magical happenings of the barony.
Sundance hoped that his future unicorn subjects might learn the same lessons of togetherness that had been taught today.
Turmeric was breathless, almost to the point of panting, but that did absolutely nothing to slow him down after he burst into the dining hall, where Sundance was drinking tea and preparing to eat a fresh-baked pie that was still steaming. The pie, very much like Turmeric, clearly had a message to convey, some means of important communication. While Turmeric hadn’t said anything yet, the pie had spoken entire volumes, because it was a radish pie, made with old radishes, and was a fine way for Sauerkraut Pie to express her displeasure about her dismissal after reporting the lewds.
Sundance intended to eat every bite of it; he was overjoyed that Sauerkraut felt safe and secure enough to protest in such a manner. It was a manner of just desserts, and this dessert was more than justified, in his opinion. His just desserts had been served with a side of sassy-snorting, which pleased him. When he thanked her, the irked mare stormed out the door, and that, as they say, was that.
“The orchard!” Turmeric practically spat out the words as he sat down beside Sundance. “You should see the orchard! It’s not done yet”—he sucked in some much-needed wind—“but so much has been done! We’ve found so many of those barrow houses built into the ravine walls! So many houses! It’s like… they are… a… a reminder that this place was a city once! All these homes! The kids… the kids are treating it almost like an archeological dig, even as they’re cleaning them up.”
Turmeric, sweaty, breathless, and hot, scooted a little closer.
“We’ve got bees, Sundance—”
“Bees?”
“Yes, those beehives you bought now have bees in them and they’ve been placed in a secure little alcove that’s just perfect for sheltering them. So now there are bees buzzing in the orchard again, and the bloodthirsty brambles are getting cleared out, and the barrows… it’s all so perfect. You know, I’m no earth pony, but I think I could live in a barrow. Once they were cleaned out, that is. Some of them are quite comfortable and spacious. Generous floor plans! I’d need to hire an interiour decorator to bring some colour into the place.”
“Just how many barrows are there?” Sundance asked.
“I don’t know,” Turmeric replied. “We keep clearing away those briars and brambles, and finding more of them. They might run the entire length of the ravine for all we know.”
Without thinking about his action, Sundance lifted one hoof and stroked his chin. Having struck a thoughtful pose, he tried to imagine how many homes there might be, but his imagination just wasn’t up for the task. It made sense though; an orchard of that size—it was immense—would need a tremendous workforce. Treemendous workforce? He kept his pun to himself, there was no sense in sharing it, and decided that he’d need to trot over to the orchard to have a look for himself.
“Is that… is that a… wait… is that a radish pie?”
“Yes it is.” Though distracted, Sundance managed an agreeable nod.
“Huh. You see something new every day, I guess. Mind if I try some?”
With a turn of his head, Sundance leveled his gaze upon his friend. “You want to share my pie with me?”
“Right now, I’m hungry enough to try anything. How bad could it be?”
This response made Sundance smile. “Pour yourself a nice cuppa, and then we’ll eat pie together while you tell me more about the orchard.”
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Well then you just keep throwing more Gringineers at them until they stop being problems...
Perhaps a search of some of the nearby canyon walls might uncover the remains of a cliff dwelling, (rookery)? used by an old Pegasus flock.
Ah, this feeling of fresh air in the barony, this progress, it is very uplifting.
Very well written, Kudzu
Nice
Absolutely true. The more you have, the more potential for issues. The more you own, the more maintenance is required. The more you have attributed, the more there is to guard.
That pie is going to taste terrible. Haha, poor Turmeric. At least Sundance knows its coming.
Hmmm, I wonder if communal magic gives rise to an emergent something that is distinct but still related to the ones working the magic. As in, is the magical work, when done communally, just the sum of its parts, or does the work produce something more, something else? A brief enshrinement of the moment itself?
It also means Sundance now has places for more people. Not sure how such fancy homes work with peasents
9566800
Uh...
Fancy?
In what way?
There will be scrubbing!
Can you build it?
Heh, probably!
This chapter is good, such good. Much hope and happiness
9566808 It is sort of implied at least to me with Turmeric talking about being comfortable, spacious and the floor plans. Regardless of how basic they aren't certainly more fancy than what the peasants are currently living in
9567053
Um...
Sometimes, people say nice things to make things seem better. He's talking about dirty, disgusting holes in the ground, that have flooded, been used as animal dens, and have fallen into neglect. He's trying to cast a good light on what's been found for the sake of optimism.
9567452 accepted Sarcasm doesn't always translate well in the written word. Well once cleaned up they will be warmer that the huts we see at the beginning of the story or should be
9567632
It isn't sarcasm.
Turmeric just tries to look for the good in things. Which means he's a foil for Corduroy's pragmatism.
Eventually, the burrows will be cleaned up, but that will be a long-going project.
now there's a classic approach, tri layered sediment filtration. Also the treadmill setup reminds ous of a blender we had at CC. It was powered by an old bike (then again so was over half the camps electricity)
This new pony wheel powered machinery concept might just give it a run forward its money, though.
Neat.
Yeah ypu definitely have to feel safe to bake someone a raddish pie and be asleep while you wait for them.
Another excellent and soothing chapter. With all these new changes, i have to wonder what happens next
Nice story, but this isn't going anywhere is it?
9958423
What do you mean, exactly?