Harry Potter and the Prancing of Ponies

by The Guy Who Writes

Chapter 15: Efficient Learning Practices

"You wrought well, my student," were the first words he heard when he passed through the wards surrounding their crystal cave hideout. "Though you should have consulted me before quoting me."

So he WAS there, thought Silver. "Sorry," he shrugged. "It was a last-minute thing. I had a different answer prepared for that question, but when I mentioned you immediately before, I realised what you said to my loyal Darke Lady was better in every way."

"Indeed," said Mr. Book. "It is also well that you've foreseen and forestalled the efforts of the opposition. Or perhaps circumvented would say it better." Then, in a thoughtful tone of voice, "I suppose tomorrow's edition of Cloudsdale's newspaper will reveal how your speech has been received by those in power. If we are lucky, one or two journalists that have not been bribed, coerced, or propagandised will speak their own opinions, thus allowing us to perceive the actual pulse of the populace." Without transition, he asked, "Did you have anything specific you wished to learn today?"

Woah. Not a normal prompt. Was Mr. Book rewarding him?

"Just anything you think would be useful to my immediate future plans, or in general. Hmm... actually..." He realised he still had something important to check. "Do you mind if I teach you the underlying theory of pegasus magic? I want to see if it works for thestrals too." Now that his plot had run its course, it was time to continue the march of reason and discovery.

"I suppose I wouldn't mind playing the part of the student for a day," said Mystery Book. "I do need the practice."

Silver raised his eyebrows, but Mystery said no more, even after a request for clarification, so it would have been pointless to press. If Mr. Book intended to elaborate, he would have, and he won't be tricked into revealing anything by accident. He has an extremely firm grasp on the conversational habit of letting others know only precisely what he wants them to know.

And apparently, he wants Silver to know he needs practice playing the role of a student. In fact, he already has been playing the role of a student for a while now, regularly asking after advice about learning science and math quickly. Today was simply the first instance of direct tutelage.

Until now, Silver had simply assumed Mr. Book was learning math and science with the intent to further his magical pursuits. Silver did something similar himself when he first discovered magic, except in reverse.

Now he wasn't so sure about Mr. Book's intentions. What could the pony he'd called 'Mystery' be up to?

"By the way," Silver said after Mr. Book proved thestrals could learn to air buck. "Have you made any progress on the phoenix front?"

'Phoenix' being the code word they'd established to refer to 'resurrection' without actually using that word, at least when speaking in ordinary speech.

"No, nor on our freedom. I have learned much about this world's magic in the past month, and I have concluded the information we need is not available to the general public."

"Are you giving your besst effortss to resssurrect girl-child friend?"

"Ass besst ass I can without letting other plotss whither and die. Have learned much of thiss world'ss magic, but not the deepesst ssecretss, not mosst powerful sspellss, or even advanced oness. Will begin sseeking thosse now with plot that beginss ssoon, for I now ssusspect I know where to look."

Silver stared at the thestral with narrowed eyes for three seconds, then sighed and nodded.

He knew all too well the difficulties of searching for entirely new solutions. Like that analogy he'd given the headmaster at the start of last school year, the dilemma of diamonds and diamond detectors.

When you're just starting out and you don't have any information, most of your effort needs to go into locating where the hypothesis might be hiding. You don't just start throwing out ideas left and right. It was the first important lesson he'd learned when attempting to unravel the deeper secrets of magic.

In order to solve problems efficiently, you have to eliminate large chunks of the solution space at a time, then narrow your search only after you know where not to look and what not to do.

That Mr. Book now knows not to look for solutions to their biggest problems in the public library is progress, even if it doesn't feel that way. Mr. Book still hadn't explained where he would be looking instead, and it's rather annoying being kept in the dark, but there's nothing Mr. Silver can do about that other than ask directly...

...which didn't work.

Silver would have to remain ignorant for now. A Ravenclaw's worst nightmare.

---

[A/N: The following section is a bit long and bloated, without much happening until the end. Sorry in advance about that. I didn't realize it was happening until well after I'd edited most of it, and now I can't bring myself to cut it out. It's essentially an outline on how to become hyper competent at something, taken to Professor Quirrell's typical extremes of perfectionism. If that doesn't sound interesting, you could probably skip most of it without missing much plot. I'll show where the worst offending section begins and ends.]

Mystery Book had not developed any specific angles of attack on the 'escape the mirror' problem as yet. His overall approach was 'acquire power, brute force the problem if necessary/possible, explore all promising leads.' It is a plot that must succeed, where the core concept is kept as simple as possible, with every precaution taken.

During his first month, Mystery Book had entered the Canterlot library when it opened at 8:00 AM and left at 8:00 PM when it closed. He would always check at least one book out when he left, then return whatever he borrowed the next morning, having read it overnight.

But he'd hit a roadblock. He ran out of productive reading material.

Unfortunately, the public library of Canterlot had never had all that much information on magic to begin with. All the interesting material, he suspected, was safely secured in Canterlot University. (And perhaps Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, though since that school only educates up to 18, it likely does not have the most advanced material.)

He could have attempted to sneak in and steal what he needed, but his apprentice had raised an important point on day one: he had no idea what security systems were in place. Furthermore, even if he did know and could bypass them, doing so over and over again, day in and day out until he finally found a promising lead would have been pointlessly tedious and annoying. A much better idea was to acquire official access and search at his leisure, especially since the process of doing so would come with permanent peripheral benefits.

This entailed entering Canterlot University, the most eminent magical institution in Equestria, as a non-unicorn. Though he'd have preferred professorship if possible, he knew it would never happen without a horn. That left only the option of apprenticeship.

He knew he would need overwhelming merit, above and beyond the other candidates, to even stand a chance at admittance as a thestral. Thus he'd been asking Mr. Silver (who once mentioned that he passed the academic portions of all his school's entrance exams at levels which would impress even university professors) for tips.

With the aid of Twilight Sparkle's pet owl, sufficiently enchanted into becoming a magical owl capable of delivering mail, Mr. Book and Mr. Silver exchanged messages, reading materials, and practice questions. In the process of teaching Mr. Book, Mr. Silver had to re-familiarise himself with much of his own knowledge. Mr. Book knew that Mr. Silver was grateful for the opportunity to sharpen his own grasp of the basics in order to properly teach the subjects, just as Mr. Book had been grateful for that aspect of teaching defense the previous year.

[OPENING BRACKET. Here's where the bloated part begins. Skip to the closing brackets if not interested.

There is an old proverb that it takes 1000 hours of practice to become competent in a new, complex field – more for those with less intelligence, less for those with more. A stupid person might take 2000 hours to learn a complex skill, while a smart person might only take 500. The proverb further states that it takes 5,000 hours to become an expert, 10,000 to become a master, and 30,000+ to become competitive for best in the world. The proverb finally states that working 40 hours each week for 50 weeks each year will give you 2,000 hours experience, so it typically takes 15 years of focus to become great in a single subject.

From the outside perspective, it is difficult to view extraordinary individuals in terms of hours dedicated. Even Mr. Book, in his own formative years, once ascribed amazing ability to the ambiguously-defined term of 'talent'. After recognising how he'd imitated that idiotic line of thought from ordinary people, he later reasoned that 'talent' is more typically the end result of many long hours of applied interest and passion. As Mr. Silver recently said in a lesson about what he calls the fundamental attribution error, we do not see people's histories trailing behind them. We see them in one instance and stupidly ascribe permanent, endearing traits like 'powerful wizard' or 'talented artist'. We see the skilled six-year-old violist and are amazed at her skill at such a young age. We do not see her perfectionist parents whose overbearing and demanding standards may have bordered on child abuse.

It became even more obvious when he applied it to his own experiences. He had accumulated around 60,000 hours of experience with magic over the course of his 55 years of life. He had spent 10 of those years ignorant of magic, and another 10 unable to move in any way... though he was at least able to ponder magic in his immobile eternity. He invented many powerful rituals in his imagination, for example, and examined inscrutable magical riddles, so those last ten years were not entirely wasted. But they were restricted.

60,000 hours of magical experience concentrated into 35 years, with the combined advantages of a sound mind and Slytherin's lore. Add to that the great range and diversity of magics he studied – he didn't spend all 60,000 hours in one narrow profession, enchanting omnioculars or creating cauldrons like most wizards – and further add the fact that he always applied what he learned to real-world problems, especially battle and war and strategy, and it was only natural that Tom Riddle had been tied for the most powerful wizard in the world prior to his banishment to this Merlin-forsaken land.

With all this in mind, the recent past can be examined with actual clarity and insight, unmarred by idiotic assumptions.

30 hours each day. (He had a Time Turner of his own, naturally.)

Subtract by 3 hours for Polyphasic sleep. Subtract by 1 hour for eating and other self-maintenance.

26 hours of free time per day, on average.

Multiply by 60 days.

1560 hours total.

Subtract 64 hours for lessons given to Mr. Silver and 96 hours for other endeavours (an estimation).

1400 hours of free time over two months. 700 hours per month.

He had spent his first month – his first 700 hours – in peaceful solitude, researching this world's magic to see how it differed from what he knew. His searches in the library had ranged from artifacts to creatures to history to theory to practice. That it only took him a single month to master the basics of an entirely new magical culture was a testament to how many magical cultures he had already studied. Chinese, Australian, American, Sumerian, Egyptian, African, and more. Not to mention his country of origin, Magical Britain, which was reputedly the best.

He took particular note of any magics which might prove useful upon his inevitable return – a teleportation spell that might be able to bypass anti-apparition, anti-portkey, and anti-phoenix wards, for example. Though instructions for casting were not available to the general public, so he'd not been able to put that guess to the test. For all Ms. Sparkle's starry-eyed naivete about 'the common endeavour', it would seem that the establishment unicorns were not as keen to share their most useful knowledge with the unicorns not in power.

He'd also encountered a weaker yet easier alternative to unbreakable vows called 'magical contracts'. These were available to the public – both for purchase and for study – and so he'd made a point to understand and master their creation process.

The second month wasn't so seamless as the first, but it was still extremely productive. Maybe even more productive since it involved truly novel learning. He'd dedicated the month almost exclusively to mathematical and scientific pursuits.

He had mental habits that adapted well to both fields, but as with any new endeavour skill still took time and practice to build, as did momentum. His first scientific lessons were examinations of famous experiments from the other side of the mirror, remembered and relayed by Mr. Silver and double-checked through other means. His first mathematical lessons involved representing unknown numbers with letter variables and grew more complex from there. It was only a small consolation that Mr. Book had already been about as good at calculations as a wizard could hope to be before he began.

700 hours total in that second month. 500 for Maths (the harder of the two), 150 for non-mathematical Science (the easier), 50 for other subjects. Add on top of that 500 hours from Arithmancy and his brief muggle education, and he reached a thousand hours for Math. Science was largely a field of analysis at the levels before university, so he'd already had... let's say 2000 hours of habits that counted towards it. The recent 150 hours went mostly to learning jargon and exact methods. Thus had he reached the minimum competence threshold for each field. Not enough for true competency, the sort held by those who engage in the subjects for a living, but enough for the sufficient adequacy expected to be held by eighteen-year-old ponies applying to Canterlot U.

Plus a few additional advantages.

Unlike a student in a classroom, Mr. Book's attention did not wander during his studies. Mr. Book refused to simply play the role of a student. He'd adopted the Hufflepuff virtue of hard work, diligently applying himself to learning the material he needed to learn by treating his sessions like an artist might treat a passion project. He had not been a Ravenclaw in his youth, but he could have been. He had only narrowly been beaten out for head boy. He had also developed a healthy enjoyment for puzzles and riddles in his adult life. Translating that enjoyment into the Maths and Sciences, treating equations like puzzles and experiments like riddles, was not difficult once he conceived of the subjects in that fashion.

Practically speaking, he sped his learning progress along with three tricks that would make absolutely certain he truly learned the material in the short time frame he had to learn it.

First, like Merlin, Helga Hufflepuff, and the muggle Leonardo DaVinci before him, he adopted Polyphasic sleeping habits so that he would not have to spend as many hours sleeping each day. This meant he only slept in intervals of twenty minutes every three hours, for a total of three hours spent asleep every day rather than the typical six to eight. He was not strictly bound to naps every three hours, but it was his average time frame. Polyphasic sleepers were meant to have a two-hour period of slightly deeper sleep each day, but he'd long ago found himself able to skip that prolonged slumber after imbibing the sleep-cycle extending potion given to regular Time Turner users.

Second, he engaged in project-based learning. In the case of magical studies, he'd accumulated the ability to cast many new spells, as well as a great surplus of useful enchantments. For math (and the scientific subjects requiring math), he'd fully completed multiple textbooks' worth of practice problems. Evidence of effort in the form of personal projects is proof of a true education.

His third and final advantage was intelligent instruction. Mr. Silver's scientific methods – learned and remembered from the other side of the mirror – exceeds everything in Equestria. That isn't to say Mr. Silver knows all science, far from it. It is more of a comment on Mr. Silver's ability to apply what he knows to the real world. Furthermore, while Mr. Silver's mathematical knowledge doesn't outstrip available material, his understanding of the subject is deep enough that he could confidently declare this world to be far behind in that department as well, just as Mr. Book could declare Equestrian sorcery lesser than Britain's.

Lastly, halfway through his second month he developed a final efficiency method by combining those three advantages and exploiting a certain quirk of the brain.

According to Mr. Silver's remembered scientific knowledge, problems are best solved by deeply thinking about the constraints just before sleep, then attempting to solve them after waking. It helps to go so far as attempting to solve them before sleeping, only stopping when it is not obvious how to progress further. That gives the brain a deeper understanding of a problem's constraints. Sleep will then connect the invisible insights together. Put another way, work on problems at night, solve them at dawn. Or rather, work before sleep, solve after waking, since Mr. Book does not follow a typical night/dawn sleep schedule.

Any time he hit an intellectual roadblock in one subject and he didn't simply move on to a different subject, he went to sleep, woke up twenty minutes later, and tried again. The only exception to this was whenever he developed momentum, solving problem after problem and learning technique after technique such that stopping would have been counterproductive to overall progress. Of course, most of this was only needed for the more difficult maths.

Science was often straightforward enough, and Mr. Book needed no tutoring in the art of language. If he chose his 'major' carefully, he would not even need to demonstrate more than a passing familiarity with Equestrian culture... though he did not neglect to research what might be classified as "social studies" (history, government, customs, norms, laws, ethics, fables) in his down time, when his mind needed rest from the slightly more rigorous subjects.

Well, perhaps 'rigorous' is not the best word. 'Unfamiliar' is more accurate.

Mr. Book is a skilled linguist, magician, and historian. Learning new magic and culture is no challenge for him, just as learning an additional language would not have been especially difficult for one already fluent in five languages.

But Mr. Book had not been adroit in Maths more advanced than Arithmancy, which mostly equated to muggle Pre-Algebra and Geometry, nor was he skilled in Science at all. That is why his second month had not been nearly as leisurely as his first.

At the end, he put his new skills to the test, acquiring a practice test via Twilight Sparkle and finding his performance sufficient both to his own standards and Ms. Sparkle's.

A/N: Thus ends the tedious part. One last note: regarding what comes next, visualize it as essentially equivalent to the ACT/SAT tests – the scores from which most top-tier American Universities use to decide if an applicant can handle the academic rigor of their classes. It'll be closer to the ACT than the SAT. Just in case anyone was curious. CLOSING BRACKET.]

That is the story of how a pony who went by the name Mystery Book came to enter the hallowed halls of Canterlot University to take an actual entrance exam exactly two months and three days after his arrival in Equestria.

He'd initially felt a slight amount of annoyance at his own lackluster speed. He knew others would consider his progress impossibly fast, but he also knew he could have gone faster. In retrospect, however, it was actually fortunate he'd taken so long. If he had been ready before today, he'd have taken the test with fewer fellow applicants. A non-unicorn applying to Canterlot University amidst a smaller group would have raised eyebrows.

But on this day in late Summer, the date of massed application, he was simply one of many ponies to apply, allowing him to blend in... although perhaps 'not stand out' would say it better. If his lack of horn was noticed, it might attract the occasional scoff, but it did not accrue immense amounts of scrutiny. The notice-me-not charm he maintained about himself works better in a crowd, as did the other aspects of his wardrobe.

Thestrals, being so rare, drew a great deal of unwanted attention. He had learned early on how to avoid that annoyance. When in public, Mr. Book wore a flat cloak with two space-charmed pockets on the inside to hide his distinctive bat wings. The fabric also extends down to cover his elaborate 'cutie mark', the intricacies of which attracted unwanted attention one time too many. Simple cutie marks were commonplace. Complex cutie marks were not. He wore glinting glasses to hide his slitted eyes, subtly charmed to be forever reflective to any who looked through the lens from the outside and forever transparent when seen through the inside, like a muggle one-way mirror. Finally, he maintained an illusion spell to make his teeth appear flat.

Most now assumed he was an earth pony, though a few were clever enough to realise that his cloak might hide wings. None of those few were clever enough to further suspect the wings might be composed of flesh instead of feathers. Or perhaps some had suspected, and simply wished for him not to know they knew it was a possibility. You never could be absolutely certain about that sort of thing. Still, Mr. Book was reasonably certain nopony thought him a thestral aside from Mr. Silver, Twilight Sparkle, her pet dragon, and the pink buffoon. And Celestia and the royal guard, if Ms. Sparkle had informed her mentor.

With cloak and glasses and notice-me-not charm, he sat down amidst rows of desks and amongst scores of unicorns, appearing to all the world as another would-be apprentice applying to the most eminent educational institution in Equestria.

"You may begin," was said to the gathered ponies.

As expected, the sections on magic and language were trivial at best, completed with quick and accurate efficiency.

The only difficulties, also as expected, were in the departments of Social Studies and Mathematics. Sometimes he would be asked a question about a relatively obscure historical fact to which he would not know the answer, or he would be asked to solve a mathematical equation of a structure he had not encountered and could not immediately intuit. He eliminated wrong answers, chose the best available option (it was multiple choice), then went on, remembering the questions for later if he had the time to return and make a more deeply educated guess about history, or work out the math problem despite being unfamiliar with it. Test-taking is a skill like any other, to be understood and mastered.

Mr. Silver's tutoring in Science, however, was more than adequate to not miss any questions in the subject, as far as he could tell.

"Time's up," said the unicorn proctor.

The unicorn applicants (and a single thestral) stopped levitating their quills.

"You will receive your results in the mail by Tuesday of next week." Mr. Book did not have an official address, of course. He had established a pick-up box at the post office. "Form an orderly line and place your tests on my desk."

The thestral fell in line with the march of applicants, fell out of line as soon as he crossed the threshold from room to hallway, and fell out of sight when he left the building.

He was a bit weary – mentally, not physically or magically – and so Mr. Book decided that, after a twenty-minute resting period, he would spend the next three hours stockpiling food (i.e. use magic to gather insects, which were not a readily-available commodity in any nearby market). One outing ought to be enough for over a month's worth of nutritional sustenance. After that, a bit of practice with pegasus/thestral magic wouldn't hurt, now that he finally has the time to dedicate more effort in that direction.

But when he appeared in the crystal caves, Owlowiscious was already waiting for him with a letter. Hopefully Mr. Silver would not uproot his imagined itinerary.

Professor Book,

I'll be teaching a class about my pegasus magic techniques two days from now, 4:00 PM at Cloudsdale High Flight Stadium on Monday.

Size of class: currently unknown. More than thirty students.

Age of class: projected to be all over the place. Colts/Fillies and adults alike.

It would be a great help if you could demonstrate the techniques to prove that they aren't unique to me. But if you're too busy, I understand.

-Silver

Mr. Book looked at the scroll curiously.

He did have the next week free... but he had already witnessed Mr. Silver in a teaching environment. Back on the other side of the mirror, Mr. Silver was capable of teaching upwards of twenty peers at once.

Then again, this would be different. It might be interesting to see how his young apprentice could handle a more diverse group of students, many of whom would likely be of greater age than himself and therefore of less inclination to respect a child.

Not to mention this would give him an incentive to master pegasus magic as much as he could over the next forty-eight hours.

Mr. Book attached a note to Owlowiscious's foot which read,

I'll be there. I shall also be here, tonight and tomorrow night, if you wish to discuss potential annoyances you might encounter, and strategies for circumventing them. Not to mention advertisement. You are going to spend tomorrow in the company of the other competition winners, yes?

[A/N: The next chapter should be much more engaging.]

Comments

[ColtKit Productions]

I actually like the technical side of things.

[The Guy Who Writes]

10857746
Honestly, the freedom stuff mostly comes from Avatar the Last Airbender's conception of airbending, if I'm being honest. That's probably why it feels familiar. Remember that most ideas are inspired from existing works of fiction in one way or another. Yudkowsky said it best, originality isn't easy, but it IS simple: just do what hasn't been done before. The other half of the equation at least, determination, was mostly me, I'm pretty sure. Unless my mind just switched to earthbending, who knows.

And thank you. Wasn't expecting anybody to care for the Xavier quote. You heard the rambler song with voice remix? This one, I mean: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wugRdinTS6w

[Shadestyle]

10857845

Without a doubt. I love that song.

I had no clue about the Airbending/Freedom aspect of it. My own reasoning was that Pegasus Ponies used Freedom in their magic, due to the general ideas of flight, their acrobatics and flexibility, and general associations between winged creatures and freedom. Pegasi are clearly "free" creatures, as you can see them usually performing feats that are less "high speed impressive aerial feats" and more "That pegasus is doing the backstroke in midair, and that other one is hovering upside down lazily, in defiance of natural law"

Likewise, my own theory is that Unicorns rely on their sense and perception of Change to use Unicorn Magic, due to the neurosis showed by several unicorns, and their overreaction to even minor shifts in the dynamics of things, and Earth Ponies rely on their sense of Right and Wrong, which is why they deal so heavily with Nature, (Flora and Fauna) and the Natural Order of things, as well as their tendency towards down-to-earth behavior and straightforwardness.

Key examples to back up my Unicorn theory lie in how Rarity was obsessed with the wings she was given by the spell used in the Best Young Flier's competition, to the point where it seemed anomalous, Twilight's downright psychotic behavior when it came to breaks from the norm or changes that she didn't account for.

Key examples for my theory on Earth Ponies mostly come down to how a lot of the Earth Ponies have unusual sensory ability, whether it's Pinkie's overt supernatural premonitions, Applejack's gut feelings, and the tendency of Earth Ponies to put all of their magic into not just growing plants, but dealing with natural cycles, like making leaves fall during autumn, and wrapping up winter through what seem to range from placebo-like actions to downright ineffective ones.

It would also explain why Earth Ponies aren't exactly well known for magical ability, considering a magic revolving around keeping things working as they aught to is the sort of magic where, when done correctly, is difficult to tell if they did anything at all.

But then, that's just my theories.

[RDDash]

If he can't find something in the public library, he won't probably get it anywhere else.

[keybounce]

Just a heads-up. I was under the impression/understanding that "hours of time put into it" theory was debunked by now -- there are too many other things going on. Yes, you do have to put hours in, but one person can put in 10,000 hours and be no better than someone else with only 2,000 hours -- there is a measure of raw talent in there that affects the quality/value of each hour of training.

[The Guy Who Writes]

11319915

A stupid person might take 2000 hours to learn a complex skill, while a smart person might only take 500.

Yes, there are many contributing factors OTHER than hours dedicated, intelligence being the primary one. But if you look at the best of the best, Magnus Carlson in chess, b4nny in TF2, Labron in Basketball, JeeNiNe in DS3, they're constantly thinking about their hobby/profession, constantly mentally engaging with it even when they're doing something else. They're constantly practicing, or they're constantly thinking about how they can improve. Your raw intelligence determines if you even have the potential to be the best in the first place. Your passion/financial situation (if it's your job) determines if you're going to stick to it through thick and thin. After those two are taken into account, hours dedicated determines your skill level so long as that qualifying quote about intelligence is taken into account. Another thing to consider is learning environment, how good your teachers are.

At the end of the day, the general point of the anecdote, at least from Mr. Book's perspective, the reason he remembers it and reminds himself of it, isn't to say "30,000+ Hours dedicated guarantees that you become the best in the world". The point of the anecdote is "You can't reach best in the world without dedicating an insane amount of hours," and "remember that talent isn't enough". Even if you're the most intelligent and musically talented person in the world, you won't become a competent pianist without dedicating many hours of practice. Your fingers need the muscle memory. There's simply no getting around it.

Edit: And now that I re-read your comment, I see you're basically saying the same thing. It's a personality flaw on my part to immediately jump in and defend my work/argument, especially when I feel like I've already addressed your counter-argument. What I'm saying is that I feel like I already addressed this concern with the qualifying quote at the top, which you might have missed while reading.

[keybounce]

11320239

What I'm saying is that I feel like I already addressed this concern with the qualifying quote at the top, which you might have missed while reading.

Yea, I see that now on a re-read. You do have that same observation in there. Alright.

[Skulltan]

He knew he would need overwhelmingly merit, above and beyond the other candidates, to even stand a chance at admittance as a thestral.

I think "overwhelmingly merit" is incorrect here.

[Black--Soul]

A lot of fluff indeed, but it had the occational 'aha' moment for me.
Thanks for the chapter on storyline all together.