• Published 10th Jun 2019
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The Journal of Rising Dawn - Professor_Rising_Dawn



Stories and Journal entries from the life of Rising Dawn

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9/21/1857 - The Theory of Teaching

September 21, 1857

Quite often I seem to find myself in situations that I have never before experienced. In times like these I tread in new waters, searching for new solutions to problems I had never known and struggling to stay afloat.

Today happens to be one of those times.

Though I have always quite enjoyed my time as an instructor of magic and the history of such, I’ve often encountered difficult students. Some are mentally challenged, some monetarily. Many have no motivation or work ethic. However my charge this time is different. His struggles are not of his own misgivings but of body.

I met Stardust as a young unicorn colt in the nearby village. I’m sure I’ve written about him before now, and yet I cannot place where that may be.

In any case, Star is quite a bright young lad, he works hard, does his best, and expects to make mistakes. His only drawback that keeps him from the glory I can see so clearly on his horizon is the fact that he cannot. See I mean. As long as I’ve known him, he’s been as blind as a bat, and has recently taken to wearing a sparkling band on his head to attract less attention to his dull eyes I expect.

Though this would normally be little trouble for an adept unicorn, albeit inconvenient and disappointing, it is far easier for a skilled unicorn to make their way without sight then to try and learn it without sight to begin with.

Thus, I have become his tutor, both out of courtesy for his family and a desire for my own research into sightless spells. Just as nonverbal spells can be complicated and difficult to understand, spells without sight can be equally so. It’s as difficult to learn magic without sight as it is to learn verbal spells deaf. Much of the experience is guess work, trial and error.

I suppose then that may be why I can admire Stardust with such fervor. The struggles and failures that are an integral part of his learning process into magic would despair even many of the most determined unicorns, and yet he holds his head high and continues to learn with determination and passion.

When we met today for our first formal lesson I had had time to get a bit of research under my bridle. We exchanged pleasantries and made our way to my study. It was a dark room lit by various candles, though that didn’t bother Star. Two apples sat on my desk, clean and shiny.

I heard a sniff and the beginnings of a sneeze behind me and I turned to see stardust attempting very hard to prevent an explosive sneeze.

“Is everything alright?” I asked softly pulling up a seat and guiding the small pony to the chair.

He seemed bashful at my comment and I regretted mentioning anything, however he responded honestly, “it’s awfully dusty in here...”

I felt like hitting myself. I have no allergies or sensitivity to dust, and so my study often gathers layers of dust. I’ve made sure to arrange a thorough cleaning in the future.

“Quite sorry young Star, I haven’t been taking particular care of this room. I assure you for our next lesson it will be much cleaner.” I told him as I prepared my lesson.

Unlike I’d normally teach, there was no blackboard to use as it would’ve been virtually useless to us. Instead I made note to keep a small braille book of spells which I’d acquired at a relatively hefty price due to their rarity and infrequent use.

“I’ve got a book for you to use as we learn and I’d like you to read from it.”

Star seemed about to protest and so I continued, “it is in braille so you should be able to rest it with relative ease. If you don’t already know to read braille I can easily add that to our lessons.”

When I looked at Star, he seemed to understand and so I levitated one of my apples. “Can you perform any spells at the moment?”

Star nodded but weakly. I suspected then that his spell knowledge might be fabulous but his performance was certainly our current dilemma.

“I think today we’ll start with a levitation spell. I don’t expect you to get it right the first time but I do expect you to try, and don’t stop trying.” I set the apple in his fore-hooves, and levitated the other from the table.

Star nodded quietly, but worry and anxiety flashed over his face. “Take your time, feel the apple, visualize it in your mind, it’s shape, it’s position, everything worth noting. When you’re ready, set it down and try to lift it with your magic.”

It was a while before Stardust moved. I was beginning to think I’d confused him and I was about to clarify the instructions when I could barely see the small movements of the apple in the boy’s hooves.

It was a few minutes where we both sat quietly, him examining the apple, and I watching. He was very careful, moving slowly as if to examine each cell carefully before moving on.

When he finally moved to set the apple back on my desk, I was startled by the sudden movement. “I think I’m ready.” He said quietly, though I caught the hint of uncertainty in his voice.

“Do you know the levitation spell?”

Stardust nodded and with what appeared to be extreme concentration, his horn began to glow and a small orb appeared nearby to the apple, just slightly to the left.

“Move your concentration slightly right.”

The orb shifted and soon the apple was engulfed in a pale blue magic.

This had been more than I’d expected to see and so I made sure to reassure him, “Great job you’re on it!”

Star didn’t seem impressed despite my praise, and he tensed again. The apple rocked slightly, and then the magic disappeared with a swift intake of breath from him. He groaned in frustration and I lent a wing to pat his back gently.

“Keep trying, you’re doing a good job!”

I tried to sound as enthusiastic as I felt but my emotions don’t always come out as passionate as I’ve intended in the past.

We continued this practice for a few hours, and by the end of our session, Star seemed much more lively. I assume it was at least partially because by the end he managed to lift the apple nearly two inches before it plopped down.

As Stardust waved me goodbye, I made sure he had the braille spellbook in his saddlebags with instructions to browse it.

I feel confident in this one. With all my other students, failure usually cripples them. If I thought long and hard, I’d be hard pressed to find a pony more resilient than this one. I can only hope he stays determined, because only them will he become truly great.

-Rising Dawn