• Published 16th Sep 2018
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The Forgotten: Magister - Jatheus



A mentor and his ward tackle hard lessons about life and loss.

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Chapter VII

Mestra Amymone walked through the forest, dead fallen leaves crunching beneath her booted hooves. Her butterflies danced through the air nearby, the four of them together in a little group. The air was crisp and cool, her scarf and crochet hat being sufficient to keep her warm. Most of the leaves had given up their fiery colors and abandoned their trees. A few still remained aloft, though they too would not stay up for much longer.

Arriving back at the cabin, Mestra entered, leaving the door open just long enough for her little companions to follow. She could hear Magister coughing again, so she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water for him. While there, she also offloaded the fruits of her excursion: a few bags of assorted berries, and the largest pumpkin she had seen yet.

Magister nodded his thanks when Mestra gave him the glass of water. He looked thin and frail to the mare, even more so now that he had given her most of the chores to do herself. The water seemed to work a bit of rejuvenation on the old unicorn, and he recovered from the bout of coughing.

“Thank you.”

“Ah! I found a pumpkin.”

“Good. I’ll show you how to prepare it,” he said between heaving breaths. “Mestra, I would like to go for a walk today.”

“I get your scarf.”

“Will get. You will get my scarf.”

“Will get. Ah!”

She was glad that he wanted to go out. She enjoyed the forest greatly, but it was somewhat lonely without Magister. He hadn’t joined her on an excursion for several weeks. The pair made their way outside, closely followed by Mestra’s butterflies. The prospect of winter returning pleased the mare. She remembered seeing her breath on the air, and she had loved the snow.

A gust of wind compelled Mestra to tighten her blue scarf and pull her white crochet hat lower. Magister seemed to shrink against it, and the mare helped him in the golden light that heralded the coming sunset. Her butterfly companions swirled about, mostly staying just behind her as they walked.

The pair ambled through the forest toward a place that Mestra had not before been. Her mentor had never shown her the overgrown path that led to a big hill. Muscles strained as they climbed upward and left the trees behind. It made the forgotten mare feel particularly warm, but sitting still on top would cool her down again.

The view that lay before them to the west was magnificent. The darkening sky was melting into various hues of golden yellows, reds, and purples in some wispy clouds on the horizon. A lone pear tree stood atop the hill. The two came close and sat in front of it. They watched together as the sky transformed itself into the most dazzling display of colors that Mestra Amymone had ever seen.

“It’s like a fire!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, Mestra,” the magister smiled, drawing deep breaths from the exertion of climbing up the incline. “It is a fire.”

“What keeps it up there?” she asked, tilting her head.

He chuckled at the question, letting out a cough “I can only guess a magic beyond any that I understand.”

That was a surprising statement from her mentor. Although he rarely used it, she was well aware that he knew magic. He had once pulled her from the frozen pond into which she’d fallen with little effort. Another time, he had appeared out of thin air and taken Mestra Amymone back to the cabin in the blink of an eye.

They continued watching in silence as the shining disc of the sun finally slipped below the tree line, its golden rays escaping from across the land. Its warmth left, the air cooling Mestra’s face.

“I haven’t come here in far too long,” the wise old unicorn broke the silence of the evening.

“Why is that, Magister?” the mare asked.

Without saying another word, the unicorn turned his head and nodded behind them to the tree. Mestra turned and could see two stone pillars sticking out of the ground near the roots. She hadn’t noticed them when they had arrived.

The mare took the few steps back and looked at the short, wide stone markers. There were words carved into them. Mestra Amymone was good with her letters, but there were words she didn’t recognize. She concluded that they must be names. Eridani was on the left stone, and Equulei was on the right as she faced them. Further reading led her to understand what they were: gravestones. The mare turned back to face her mentor.

“Who they were?” she asked.

Silence followed for nearly a minute. She stood her ground, staring to him.

“Magister?”

The old unicorn let out a sigh, “That is not my name, Mestra. I am Magister Pyxidis. Magister was the title bestowed upon me. I was once chief unicorn, long ago in a place called the Crystal Empire. Many unicorns are gifted with magic, so for me to rise to position as the number one unicorn in that kingdom was quite an honor. There was nothing beyond my reach.”

Mestra Amymone walked back to her teacher and sat down in front of him. He had never told stories of his past before. It seemed to take great effort for him to so much as sit upright as he continued speaking.

“The kingdom is lost. In my arrogance, I thought I could stop King Sombra when he turned to darkness. I had gone into the mountains to cast a spell of protection on the empire. I underestimated how far he had fallen; the lengths to which he would go…”

The old unicorn seemed lost in thought for a moment before he continued, “I failed, and when the Crystal Empire vanished, I was alone. I went south to Equestria, where we now are. I made a living, using my magic to help others, and sometimes just to put on a show. Ponies will pay to see something truly spectacular. In all my travels, I was hollow and incomplete. My failure always haunted me, and so I would move to the next town.”

Magister Pyxidis pawed at the grass, “On one of these times, I came to a place called Hollow Shades, which is just south of Neighagra Falls. I did my usual tricks and earned my fare. As I was leaving, I happened to hear a mare crying out. From a distance I saw her just as I heard the train whistle. You see, she was stuck on the tracks and couldn’t escape.”

Mestra had never seen a train, but she had been told about them many times in stories. She’d been told they were great iron houses on wheels that moved along metal rails on the ground. She very much wanted to see one someday.

“Nopony else was close,” her mentor continued,” and I was too far away also. I magically teleported myself to her. It was a terribly frightening moment. The train wouldn’t be able to stop, and I couldn’t get her free. I was afraid to teleport her out because if I damaged the tracks in my haste, it could derail the train. I summoned every ounce of ability that I possessed and created a magical track to carry the train over us that would then rejoin the real tracks.”

Magister Pyxidis took a breath and paused for a moment, “That may have been the most difficult spell I ever created. The train rode over us, just as I planned, and it safely continued on its way. It was heavy,” he added with a grin that revealed his missing teeth. “I saved the mare and was able to get her free after the train had gone. Her name was Eridani.”

Mestra felt her ears fold back as a lump formed in her throat. It was the same as the name on one of the tombstones. It was like the little bird they had found in the summer.

There was a light in the elder stallion’s eyes that Mestra Amymone had never seen before. It made him seem lost in the memory.

He continued, “She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. She convinced me to stay, and within a year, we had married. Not long after, as tends to happen, she bore a foal. We moved to the cottage just down there. She planted the tree that sits behind you. Pears were always her favorite.”

Mestra Amymone listened more intently than she ever had before. Her mentor’s eyes glistened with tears against the waning light.

“When the foal came…” he took a deep breath. “It was a filly.” He paused again, as though he would be unable to continue. The butterflies left the forgotten mare and began swirling around him. “Eridani died bringing her into the world.”

Mestra felt herself crying now. The mysteries were beginning to become clear. She understood why her mentor had mare’s clothes and why he had a cottage that seemed built for more than one to live in alone.

“I named the filly, Equulei,” he continued. “She looked quite a lot like you, Mestra.”

The forgotten mare didn’t want to hear any more. Both of them, so dear to her Magister, taken away. She felt a melting in her chest, as though her heart couldn’t handle the things he now said.

“She was a joy to me, but nothing could have completely replaced the void left when I lost her mother. She was a unicorn like me, and she was truly gifted. On her seventh birthday, I went into town early. I wanted to get her a gift that she…” he paused, choking back tears. “When I returned, I found her in the pond. She must have used her magic to open the door, but she couldn’t swim.”

The pond, the same pond in which Mestra Amymone had also nearly drowned once. Both of them wept for a while in silence. Mestra didn’t know how anypony could survive those losses. Her tears were hot against the cool of night as they ran freely for her friend, her mentor.

Pyxidis took a deep breath and continued, “All my great power, and I couldn’t save them.” They sat in silence for several more minutes. “So, I buried them here. No magic, I dug into the earth myself, and I have lived here alone for years that I left off counting. I could bear neither to get rid of their things nor to leave them.”

Mestra Amymone couldn’t stand it anymore and she threw her forelegs around her mentor and cried into his shoulder.

“The butterflies, just like yours, have visited me every night since then, but I have never gone with them. They are filled with magic, Mestra. The day you fell into the pond, your butterflies came to me. They woke me from my sleep. That’s how I knew you were in trouble.”

A fit of coughing overtook the old stallion. Mestra helped him stay upright until it passed. He was heavy.

“You have given me a great gift, Mestra Amymone,” the old unicorn said. “This last year has been filled with a joy I expected to never know again. I wish that we could continue this way, but my time is growing short.”

Now it was fear that gripped the forgotten mare. She remembered the bird, and the tombstones were sitting nearby. She pushed back, her Magister struggling to stay upright.

“I’m dying,” he said plainly.

The words were like a dagger through the mare’s heart.

“No! You can’t!” Mestra Amymone cried out. “Don’t leave me here alone!”

He forced a tired smile, “Mestra, there is nothing I can do to stop it. Do you remember when I told you, given enough time, all living things grow old and die? My magic has already extended my life far beyond what is natural, but I can’t sustain myself that way any longer. My strength is used up.”

The fear and sorrowful feelings erupted from the mare’s eyes. She didn’t want Magister to go. She didn’t want anything bad to happen to him. From some unknown reservoir, deep visceral emotions churned within the mare. She could barely stand as they forced their way to the surface. She cried out, saying nothing.

“It’s okay, let it out,” Magister Pyxidis said, pulling her close.

They remained that way for a time in the growing darkness, neither saying anything, just being there with each other until Mestra’s tears were finally spent. She looked up, her blue eyes meeting Magister’s green. She hadn’t noticed until that moment, but his eyes seemed dim, not bright as they had been before.

He shivered, saying nothing. The pair made their way slowly back to the cabin, the way obscured by the night and Mestra’s vision blurred by tears. A violent fit of coughing overtook the magister when they arrived inside the cabin, driving him down on his knees until it passed.

Mestra brought him some water and helped him up, half-carrying him to his favorite chair. He took several deep breaths as he recovered.

“I’m sorry,” he broke the silence. “I didn’t want to make you sad, but there is still much for you to learn, and I don’t know how long I’ll be able to help you. Do you think you could manage some hot chocolate?”

Mestra nodded, moving to the kitchen and lighting a fire in the stove. They always kept it prepared so it would be easy to light. It would take some time for the water to boil, but she went ahead and got all of the necessary accoutrements laid out nearby. She then returned her attention to the magister.

“You’ll have to take over all of the cooking from now on, but the most important thing is reading. It is good that you have learned your letters, but you need to practice. The ability to read gives you the power to learn anything you want to know.”

The mare nodded, unsure what to say. He opened his eyes and locked with her gaze.

“It’s okay to be sad,” he said. “It is natural, and you must let yourself grieve for a time. However, you cannot let it overcome you as I let my losses consume me.”

A drab hopelessness filled the mare as she asked, “But how?”

He continued staring into her soul, “It has taken me so many years to learn that you simply have to keep putting one hoof in front of the other. It will hurt, more than you can imagine. You will be overwhelmed at times, but you can’t stop. You have to keep moving.”

Mestra let her gaze fall to the floor. Moving anywhere was the last thing she wanted. So crushed she felt by the burden of what was ahead of her, she simply wanted to curl up on the floor and never move again. Sorrow filled as it was, she’d have lived in that moment, stopping time for all eternity if it meant keeping her mentor.

Mestra’s butterfly companions flitted about her head beckoning her to follow. She looked back to her magister. The aged stallion shook his head at her. She nodded in reply. Looking back to her butterflies, she shrugged, turning away and ignoring them.