Harry Potter and the Prancing of Ponies

by The Guy Who Writes

Rehabilitation 11.4: Canterlot Conference

"My fool, I am not against the idea," she repeated. "I can arrange for you to speak, but let's examine the emotional influences first."

He frowned. "How?"

"Write down your motives on paper, one by one, to the best of your abilities. Do it critically, as if you were examining someone else's motives in the worst possible light. Then do the same in a positive light. Then edit the paper to be less deliberately negative until you feel as though it is as honest as you can be. Then attend the conference, if you still feel like going."

It didn't take too long for him to complete the assignment.

I don't like the lack of academic integrity.
The stupidity, arrogance, and ignorance angers me.
If you take on a role, you should play out that role. Especially scholars with high statuses and salaries.
I think they deserve to be taught a harsh lesson.

"As I thought," she said after reading it. "You are well-versed in your own negative feelings. But what of your positive motives?"

"The back side," he said simply.

She flipped it over and read, Mr. Silver deserved better.

"Excellent," she said after crossing out the 'Mr'. "A perfect microcosm of your progress. Going by word count, you are about… let's see… two, four, six… you are about a tenth as competent at positivity within yourself as you are at negativity. Now I shall contact Canterlot University… actually, on second thought, I'll consult my sister. She always attends this affair."

Riddle shook his head. "I would prefer you didn't tell her in advance. She'd let him off easy."

"Not if I insist." Luna gave a reassuring smile. "She is capable of being the rainbow after your thunderstorms. Like the day the reserves were formed... or perhaps I should say reformed... in any case, Tia is more than happy to let others teach the hard lessons, even if she does not like teaching them herself. Feel free to be as harsh as you feel necessary. She will not refute or undermine you if she agrees, though she will almost certainly rephrase. You are certain your suspicions are accurate?"

"I'd need Legilimency to be completely certain. It is a question of motive, and that can only be truly gleaned by mind-reading."

"Not quite," said Luna. "Honesty, remember?"

"I have not forgotten your abilities." That was spoken a bit dryly, to his retrospective chagrin. "But I'd like my speech to come as a surprise. An interrogation by you would tip him off. My method wouldn't. Do I have your authorization to use it? I will read only, and search exclusively for thoughts related to the topic at hoof. You can publicly prove it with Honesty after the fact."

"…Very well. So long as you are not doing this to feed your anger. Remain focused on the memory of Silver and I shall support your efforts completely."

---

High Riser considers himself to be a stallion of ambition. He has always been competitive, always sought to climb the ladders around him until he reached the top. He was a prominent member of the dueling circuit long before the tradition was overtaken by the Court Scholar and pervaded by weak spellcasters.

Don't get him wrong, he can see the benefits of the reserves, being a member himself. He can even see the benefits of non-unicorns wearing horn helmets. He had always thought it a bit silly that pegasi and earth ponies could join the guard, but now that they can cast spells they actually stand a chance in a proper magical fight.

He had been watching from the spectator's stands when the troop of true royal soldiers were utterly trounced by mere Night Guard trainees. He had been there for Celestia's speech. The spectacle inspired him to join the reserves and become stronger, and that growth only happened because the system was overhauled by the Court Scholar.

But even still, if he's being fully honest with himself, he doesn't like how his favorite sport has been flooded by hornless hobbyists. He doesn't overly mind that dueling has fundamentally changed into something different. It's gone from carefully controlled and regulated one-on-one fights to a more rule-free, anarchic, chaotic format. He's all for that, at least now that he's good at it.

What he does mind is that he's no longer in the sole company of unicorns. He has nothing against the other races, he just thinks that magic in general is the competence of unicorns. He doesn't go around saying farms should be tilled by magic-powered plows, or that mail should be delivered by the mail spell, even if that would be more efficient. He's fine with farms belonging to earth ponies, air belonging to pegasi, and magic belonging to unicorns. That's the way of the world, no matter how much Celestia tries to change it.

And he knew it was Celestia, not the Court Scholar, behind that agenda. He'd been two rows down in the stands when the Court Scholar calmly critiqued the current state of the Guard. He'd said something like, "I stopped the non-unicorns from being complete dead weight, but they still feel like liabilities. I will always prefer unicorns to non-unicorns in a fight, just as most ponies will prefer that pegasi deliver their mail." High Riser still remembers it because he couldn't have put it better himself.

In short, the Court Scholar gets it. High Riser understood, upon hearing that one line, that Riddle Tome, formerly Mystery Book, sees the world the same way High does. Probably because, as an intelligent alicorn, Mystery Book knows the abilities – and proper places – of each race in pony society.

Originally, High Riser had been moody about the 'non-unicorn in Canterlot University' scandal. And he still is disgruntled to some extent. He understands personal ambition, but come on. Pretending to be an ordinary earth pony, then following it up with another lie of 'I was a thestral all along' when he'd actually been an alicorn all along? That's taking it a bit too far. Especially if it's just for the sake of stirring up intrigue.

Not that the newspapers have picked up on the 'alicorn' part yet; only the tabloids have circulated that rumor. If High Riser hadn’t been there when the Court Scholar had been setting up the parchment viewing-screen, he wouldn't have believed it himself. If not for his shock and distaste, he would have been impressed at the seamless transition from glasses-wearing-earth-pony to unicorn-with-thestral-eyes.

If the thought had occurred to High Riser to hide his own horn, and if he'd believed he could get away with it, and if he had the magical know-how, and if he had friends in the media like Mystery Book seems to, then High Riser might have done it himself back when he was taking his own entrance exam twenty years ago.

But then again, he probably couldn't have swallowed his pride in his horn and his abilities. He'd have been tempted to drop the lie at the first insult of inadequacy.

No. He could never have endured the idea of pretending a non-unicorn could be truly competent and powerful at magic. To this day, High is frustrated how the Court Scholar got away with fraud. There should be some kind of legal sanction for faking your race.

But maybe he'd been punished behind closed doors. In fact, maybe that's why he doesn't get along with Celestia.

Either way, that was all in the past. The Court Scholar currently seems to be on the right track. Plus, he's influential.

The words of the day are: politeness and camaraderie.

Normally High Riser doesn't spend this much time thinking about other ponies during work hours, but when you get a notice that an important pony wants to meet you face-to-face – a few hours before you're about to be publicly recognized for your accomplishments, no less – and when you've already spent various occasions thinking about that pony in the past, your mind has a tendency to sum up its thoughts and feelings as you nervously wait in your office, watching the seconds tick by on the clock.

Then that pony knocks on your door, exactly on schedule, and you have a brief, innocuous chat about your most recent publication, keeping a few things private and safe in the back of your mind, and your nervousness largely disappears.

---

The Canterlot Conference is an annual affair where university scholars of every discipline meet in a lecture hall to discuss the latest developments. A multidisciplinary committee decides which are most significant, and the scholars responsible are told to prepare a presentation, after which they receive recognition for their work, with Celestia deciding the best overall.

High Riser was scheduled to give a presentation on the latest discoveries in pegasus magic, which he had personally and passionately practiced as a member of the reserves. He had researched the techniques, composed a thesis based on the readings of his magic scanners, then written a paper that had taken the university by storm. It was well-written and understandable by ponies from every discipline. It was peer-reviewed to exhaustion and determined to be accurate. It had even reached the Court Scholar, who is normally and notoriously absent from university affairs.

In short, High was a shoe-in for nomination. But he is not a shoe-in for victory, he realized after the other scholars gave their presentations. The investigation into dragon magic by Twilight Sparkle was particularly good.

And although it wasn't quite as academic as the other presentations, a Manehattan Tech engineer – knowledgeable of both the Court Scholar's parchment screens and the Court Scholar's memory-viewing 'Pensieve' – had managed not only to understand the principles behind memory extraction and parchment screens, but to further combine the principles into a single innovation. No longer must you dunk your head into a bowl to see another's memories. As many ponies as can behold the screen may watch the memory at once. It was a last-minute addition to the roster of presentations, according to Celestia, but Spellio Hornsworth had clearly earned the right to be there.

Competition was fierce this year. High Riser would have to bring his A-game to win. And he did. He was fairly certain, as he walked back to his seat, that he had it in the bag.

"Before I announce my choice of best," said Celestia, host of the conference. "The Court Scholar would like to say a few words."

There was murmuring among the audience – the Court Scholar was attending the Canterlot Conference?

High Riser wasn't surprised by the appearance, having met the stallion in advance, but he was curious about the sudden introduction. Would he be treated to additional recognition?

"Salutations," said a voice that had not been publicly heard in the university for years. "Before the victor is announced, I would like to give a brief history lesson on the techniques of air-bucking-" with the standard sound of the technique and a breeze that blew across the audience, he bucked himself upward until he was at the highest point of the hall. "-air-standing," he said from high above, seeming to stand on the air. He then dropped, and with another breeze he slowed his descent at the last minute. "-the air cushion," he continued calmly, "-and cloud phasing."

High Riser's eyes were a bit wide. Air-standing?

"Spellio Hornsworth," Riddle Tome addressed into the silence of the crowd. "May I borrow your invention for a moment?"

"Go right ahead," said the unicorn. "It's mostly your invention anyway, like I said earlier."

"Thank you. Your recognition of my contribution does you credit. For the record," he said to the wider hall, "pensieves and memory extraction were not invented by me, I simply introduced them to Equestria. Rest assured, in my homeland they both fell into what Equestrians call the 'public domain' long ago. Further details are private, which is why I have not tried to profit from Pensieves. Parchment screens, on the other hoof, were mostly my own original innovation."

There was some murmuring as Riddle Tome floated the old stallion's large parchment towards himself and began to fiddle with it. Not everypony present was even prescient about pensieves or parchment screens in the first place- Spellio Hornsworth's presentation had been their introduction to the devices. Even with Spellio giving credit to the Court Scholar, most ponies didn't know the surrounding circumstances. The few that knew even tidbits of background information spent the next few minutes supplying them to those who knew nothing.

"Many of you had not seen parchment screens or memory-viewing before today," said the Court Scholar after he finished preparing. "With the exception of those in the reserves, of course, who well know the efficacy of witnessing your own past mistakes with your own eyes. Similarly, the history I'd like to highlight is perhaps one that most of you here would not know, but anypony in the reserves would have heard it many times as they were taught. Like pensieves and memory-viewing, those novel pegasus magic applications were not invented or theorized by myself, nor any other adult, unicorn or otherwise."

The screen lit up with a memory, just as it had during Spellio's presentation, though in his case he'd shared the memory of his wedding day. The memory was large and bright enough to be seen by the entire watching audience, and if it worked like before, the sound would carry to every corner of the lecture hall.

Without further preamble, the memory began to play.

"Would you like to say a few words?" came Celestia's voice through the screen. "I think everypony here would like to know your secret."

"Thirty days ago," said a white pegasus colt standing next to her in a magically amplified voice, "I couldn't fly a single mile without collapsing in exhaustion. Twenty-six days ago, I could fly three miles without breaking a sweat. I could fly it normally, without air-bucking."

The young colt paused for a moment, then continued.

"This wasn't because of training. It wasn't because of difficult, physical work. It wasn't even the result of research. My victory is the fruit of hard mental labor, not physical training. My success came from creative problem-solving, not flying talent. My achievement involves ingenuity and originality, not muscle.

"Before I figured out what I was doing wrong, I thought I could find the answer to my problems in books." The colt shook his head. "I couldn't. And not because they were too hard to understand. It's because the books about pegasus magic weren't helpful. They don't contain the correct answers. In some cases, they were even wrong."

Gasps could be heard coming from within the memory, and from without.

"They are wrong," the colt repeated. "Anypegasus who's ever read a book on pegasus magic, none of which were authored by actual pegasi, by the way, if you take anything away from today, take this: I figured out how my magic works- how it really works- by disregarding what I read and figuring it out for myself. If you ever want to replicate what I can do, you'll have to forget what you've read and start thinking for yourselves.

"And if you're not a pegasus..." the colt shrugged. "Then it shouldn't matter to you what we pegasi believe about our own magic, especially if it works in the real world, as opposed to mere words on a page."

The memory paused.

"That was the Awards Ceremony of Cloudsdale's Flight Week from three years ago," said the Court Scholar. "The spotlight of that particular week was stolen by Silver Wing, who won his age's segment of the racing competition. Winners were allowed to speak to the crowd if they wished, and I'm glad to have graced all of you with his elegant declamation."

The watching audience was silent.

"Entertaining, isn't he?" The Court Scholar was chuckling. "My young apprentice certainly had a way with words. Of course, thanks to High Riser, the books shall soon be less wrong than they once were. But I'm curious, Mr. Riser. Why did the name 'Silver Wing' go unmentioned throughout all of your work? Like the rest of the reserve soldiers, you learned the basics from Scootaloo in Cloudsdale, who I am certain did not fail to mention her greatest inspiration. You did not fail to mention my contributions to the technique, of course, in that I mandated they be learned by the reserves. But as far as I could tell, the original inventor was never named or hinted. Just from reading your paper and listening to you speak, one gets the impression that I invented the techniques. Or worse, that the techniques have always been known. You are far too knowledgeable to make such a mistake, but perhaps I have misjudged your capabilities. Would you like to explain what happened?"

"Please do," said Princess Luna from a few seats behind him, fixing him with a firm stare. "Honestly, if thou would."

High Riser's heart rate was higher than he could ever remember it being. It was much higher than mere combat and physical exercise would have produced. He was so utterly terrified that he couldn't think of a single thing to say.

The silence stretched.

"I see," said the Court Scholar. "In that case, I will show the rest of this memory."

The colt turned to face Princess Celestia directly. "I... think that's all I wanted to say about the secret to my success."

"Wouldn't you like to explain at least some of the theory?" asked the at-the-time diarch. "You may never get a better chance."

The colt audibly snorted. "And deal with the inevitable backlash from a certain type of pompous pony belonging to a certain prestigious magical institution? No thanks. I'm pushing it as it is."

The screen fell blank, thus signaling the end of the memory.

When the Court Scholar spoke again, he was cold and scornful. "Though he was forced to choose his words carefully, Mr. Silver obviously and specifically referred to most of you. His perspective has been proven correct these past few weeks, and especially today. Congratulations on justifying and validating a colt's cynicism."

Some of the ponies in the audience visibly flinched. 'Cynicism' is an ugly word in polite pony society, like profanity or vulgarity. Because to them, if there's anything that's the opposite of friendship, happiness, and Equestrian values, it's cynicism.

"Of those who peer-reviewed High Riser's work," Riddle went on, "only one of you so much as inquired into the origins of this incredible set of discoveries. Only one of you demonstrated the most important quality to any scholar – that of critical thought, in which you criticize and doubt what you read. And the one who did mention it, Keen Eye, what happened to your review paper?"

"It was peer reviewed and nitpicked to death," said a voice from the crowd. "And Waiting List questioned my position in the university."

"Unsurprising," said the harsh voice of Riddle Tome. "The rest of you. If you have ever wondered why the Court Scholar wants little to do with this institution, it is because my cynicism about you is correct. Justify my cynicism less in the future, and I shall be less inclined to avoid you. High Riser, you are fired from the reserves and forbidden from rejoining."

Princess Luna cleared her throat in the audience, loud enough to catch the Court Scholar's attention.

"…For the next twenty years, or until I personally determine you are ready to rejoin. Whichever comes first. Now if you'll excuse me, there is honest work to be done."

He popped away, leaving a gaping audience behind.

Celestia took the stage in his wake. "Let this be a reminder to everypony," said the host of the conference. "Intellectual property is just as important as physical property. When inventors can be reliably rewarded for their work, ponies actually want to be smart and invent things. Equestria did not truly see its explosion into the modern era until the labor of the mind was recognized as equally valid to the labor of the body, and thus equally enshrined by property rights." Her sweeping eyes stopped scanning and settled firmly on… "High Riser," she addressed.

Despite everything he was feeling, he met her gaze. "Y-yes, your majesty?"

"I am sorry to say that you have not respected the intellectual property of others," she said in a sad tone. "Your paper is not invalid or untrue, but you have deliberately failed to credit or even acknowledge the one who made the discovery. It seems you wish to live in a world in which intellectual property is not recognized or respected. Therefore, I am afraid you have forfeited the right to complain. All claim to your work, your papers, your discoveries and contributions regarding pegasus magic, shall be considered the intellectual property of Silver Wing, who would have been happy to help if he were here, and who very well may have done the deeper research himself if he thought this institution would recognize his work when he was a pegasus. You may plead your case in my court if you object, and I shall decide what restitution you must pay in order to make amends."

High Riser, torn between rage and shame, found that he had nothing good to say.

Celestia turned to face the entire ensemble of stunned scholars. "My bright unicorns. Intelligence is not yours alone. Pegasi and earth ponies can have great ideas too. Please, please never fail to give credit when due. And do not demean the delinquent and different. Princess Cadence was a pegasus before she became an alicorn, and Mystery Book was not an alicorn at the time he was attending university. Intellectual, magical, and moral greatness can come from the most unexpected of places. Although of course, it can come from the most expected of places as well. Twilight Sparkle, would you please come forward? I believe your research has been by far the most original we've seen this year, and that, I think, deserves the most prominence, in light of recent events."

Twilight Sparkle's primary focus for the last few years had, of course, been Time and Space magic. But her brain would often get frustrated when she hit a brick wall, so rather than continue to bang her head against it, she would focus on other subjects while her subconscious absorbed whatever new constraint she encountered. So long as it's magic of some kind, she reasoned, she was still getting closer to her goal. And since Spike was also near and dear to her heart, she had recently been focusing on Dragon magic. (Chaos magic too, since Spike can do it now and it has the potential to influence Time and Space, but mostly Dragon magic.) Even with her recent focus on the Stone, her foray into the basics of Dragon magic had mostly run its course, and she had decided it was time to share those basics with academia so that others could tackle the subject as a whole while she redoubled her efforts on immortality.

In light of recent events, she wasn't quite tempted to dismiss them entirely like Silver was, but she certainly understood his perspective better. When Twilight took the stand, she whispered something into her mentor's ears, who looked surprised, but pleased.

"Though on second thought," said Celestia, and only a very few ponies could recognize the mischief in her voice, "most ponies in this room likely anticipated a different outcome. If the panel could have voted on the winner ten minutes ago, I think we all know who would have one. Therefore, I think the pegasus techniques do deserve victory in the end. Thus do I bestow the highest academic honors to Silver Wing. I'm afraid that means you come in second place, Twilight."

Twilight Sparkle was smiling widely. "As Silver Wing's guardian," she said, "I couldn't be more proud. And I'd be happy to hold his award until he gets back."

As the small trophy of recognition was transferred from one magical grasp to another, a few more whispered words were exchanged. Again Celestia seemed surprised, and again she did not object.

"It would seem Twilight would also like to share a memory of Silver. I do not know what it might have in store for us, but since acceptance speeches are customary, and since the Court Scholar's memory should count as Silver's presentation, I think a second memory would be very appropriate. Go ahead, Twilight."

Twilight nodded, then held a hoof to her forehead. She stood still for a time, then slowly withdrew a sliver of silver. (Mind magic had not escaped her recent thirst for knowledge either.) Soon enough, a new memory was on the screen.

"Silver and I had a conversation that stuck with me," said Twilight. "It was a bit before his debut during Flight Week. I didn't like it at the time. He said some very hard truths that I've had to come to terms with recently. But I'd have probably been a bit lost in my research without them. So even if you don't like it, please listen all the way through."

The scholars watched in silence as a young colt argued confidently against the Element of Magic – with the topic of Canterlot University as the primary point of contention. They watched a historically knowledgeable colt concisely describe their consideration of the other pony races with the example of Swift Flight. They watched a boundary-pushing colt describe the prospect of consulting them as 'banging his head against a brick wall, so much that he would suffer brain damage'.

And finally, they heard the memory conclude with the following remark:

"No, it's their job to lecture and write publications. In order to get to that point, they had to memorize test answers when they were students. At no point along their career paths was actual thinking necessary."

When the memory fell blank, there was audible protest – ponies voicing their opinions that they utterly disagreed with the remark.

"It was harsh, yes," said Twilight. "And overly general. And it doesn't apply to everypony. But the core of what he said is very important. I didn't make my own breakthrough by reading university books about Dragon Magic. I tried reading at first, but it wasn't all that helpful. It took me much longer than three weeks of reading before I got sick of being stuck, but I did eventually remember Silver's lesson, and that's when I consulted actual dragons. And I don't mean to project my own experiences onto all of you, but now that I've seen it for myself, I can't bring myself to agree with my past self. There's a deep problem in this university. The only pony who offered reasonable skepticism was scorned with a ton of frankly low-brow logical fallacies. If you proudly know the names of those fallacies, ESPECIALLY ad mannulum, you have no excuse to turn around and use them yourself the moment you see an argument you don't like."

"Waiting List," 'coughed' a pony in the crowd. High Riser recognized him as Keen Eye, a fellow member of the reserves. Well, his former fellow.

"Let us not name names," said Celestia.

"You know what," said the same pony. "No. I'm tired of this vague, collective shaming stuff. You want to solve the problem? Then you need to address the root causes. So let's name the root causes. One. At. A. Time." The pony cleared his throat, levitated a stack of parchments from a saddlebag, and spoke around twenty names. Celestia tried to interrupt him, but Princess Luna amplified his voice to be louder than her sister's. When the list was over, the pony said, "I'm sure I'm not the only one who hates sitting through lectures he doesn't deserve. I don't think the ponies from Manehattan Tech needed it. If you want to fix the problem, isolate the problem. If you don't want idiots as staff, then get rid of the idiots."

"Or," said Princess Luna, "as an alternative, we could simply make as many excuses for them as possible and continue hoping they get better. I am sure that shall work eventually, dear sister."

"Sarcasm does not become you, sister."

"What can I say? He's rubbing off on me. I rephrased what I expect you wish to do in an unambiguous manner. I have exaggerated for emphasis, granted, but is it truly a mischaracterization of your position?"

That was when Celestia finally seemed to relent. "First the nobility, and now this. Very well." She spoke loudly and authoritatively to the crowd, like an experienced manager addressing to her employees in a company meeting. "For those unaware of history, I like to critically examine and, if necessary, reform Canterlot University once every hundred years or so, in case it has strayed from its academic ideals." She sighed dramatically. "And it seems to be that time of the century again, if a bit earlier than expected. Expect to hear more about this in the coming weeks."

---

In the coming weeks...

"Twilight, do you think you could compose a fair test to evaluate the quality of my university and its faculty?"

"Something they could not simply see through and fake," Luna added. They made sure to have this conversation in private, where no potential test takers would hear it. "When actively searching for red flags, you must use metrics that are not transparent. Otherwise cunning ponies will simply pass your test by lying. Ideally they wouldn't even know they are being tested, but that chariot has already departed."

Twilight brightened. "I know just the thing!"

She had omitted Silver's 'two, four, six' test from the memory earlier, mostly because it would have taken too long and distracted from the point. But it also meant nopony knew about it but her and Silver. That made it a good place to start. It was simple enough to enchant the test paper to react with a 'yes/no' for sets of three numbers applying to the rule. And taking Luna's advice into account, she also decided to throw in a bunch of red herring questions, ones that cunning ponies might believe are the key points, but only exist to actively thwart their attempts to subvert the test.

When Princess Celestia reviewed her test and gently pointed out that a number of her questions were just a bit too obvious and easily answered, while others didn't seem to have much of a point, Twilight explained her reasoning, and Princess Celestia brightened considerably. She shared the test with her sister, and then Princess Luna insisted Twilight consult Riddle to make the red herrings as juicy and distracting as possible. He's particularly competent at that kind of deception.

And he was. Twilight found herself a bit disturbed at just how easily he seemed to manipulate ponies just through a list of questions on a sheet. Even she would have fallen for some of them if she didn't know what they were trying to accomplish.

Although to be fair to herself, since the princesses and Riddle all believed her original test was stupidly obvious the first time around- none of them suspected the test's true intentions, even though they knew it was supposed to be a critical evaluation- it was entirely possible that she didn't need his help.

It was entirely possible she would have fallen for her own initial set of questions if she had been in the position of test-taker instead of test-maker, although she still thinks she would have done decently and not failed, which is something she needed to take into account when composing the test. If it's so difficult that everypony fails, then it fails as a test. Though Riddle disagreed with that, saying that it might simply mean that no academics of true quality and integrity exist in the university.

On the outside, the test overtly seemed to judge a pony's personal opinions (though Riddle called them 'political', not personal) on a scale from non-biased to race-conscious, with many mathematical, scientific, and magical questions thrown into the mix. It was supposedly a general test of academic aptitude, after all.

Particularly insidious was the fact that only the objective questions were being judged for accuracy, with extra weight going to the ones that evaluated critical thinking and skepticism. Those problems were disguised as seemingly straightforward problems. She wondered how many math adepts would fall for the equation written in words, not mathematical notation. It required simple order of operations and the recognition that 'divided by half' was intentional – a thing so obvious that the test-takers might condescend to assume ignorance of the test-maker and substitute 'divided by two' as they answered.

The non-objective essay-style questions were being graded using three metrics:

1. Quality of writing.

2. 'How much is the test-taker trying to manipulate the evaluator / morally grandstand / signal their own virtue.'

3. 'Does this seem like a genuinely honest answer?'

Luna helped a lot in the grading of those kinds of questions. Riddle offered to help as well, though he was only allowed to grade under the first and second metrics. His cynicism helped him do that relatively quickly, and he said afterwards that he was surprised how much he enjoyed this kind of grading. He particularly liked leaving helpful critiques on where the test-takers could really shore up their manipulation skills.

His suggestions of 'truth serum' and 'mind reading' to aid Luna in grading the honesty of the test-takers (many examiners were called in for in-pony questioning) were rejected by Princess Celestia as being too intrusive and bordering on illegal, given her ban on mind-control magics.

(Riddle did not remark that banning the field outright has made her subjects vulnerable to it. He still wasn't quite sure if it was something he intended to fix or exploit in the future. It was as annoying as it was gratifying that he was surrounded by a supposedly competent military, parts of which he had trained himself, all of which – down to the last soldier – could be subverted by Legilimency, false memories, Obliviation, or the Imperius. Their highest princess has a policy actively preventing them from shoring up the weakness that any Dark Lord wouldn't hesitate to exploit. A running theme in her rule, he's found.)

Instead of voicing any of that, Riddle sighed and sarcastically asked if truth serum and mind reading are not essentially what Luna is already doing. He'd just be making the process less mystic, shamanic, seemingly subjective, etc. What's the problem with either of his suggestions if they're consented to?

It was then Twilight realized that Riddle might just be lying and/or secretly joking, that he couldn't really do either, and he's actually just trying to get Princess Celestia to ease the ban on magical mind-control like she eased the ban on rituals.

When Twilight voiced her suspicion, Princess Celestia actually paused for a moment, laughed, and declared in a slightly dramatic fashion: "It will not be that easy, foul fool!"

Riddle pinched the bridge of his nose with a hoof and smiled, a combination of gestures that made everypony believe different things about his state of mind in that moment. Celestia thought he was smiling guiltily at having been caught, and Luna thought he was content in his efforts to ease some of her own difficulties.

All of which were wrong. He long since killed the habit of grinning upon being discovered or suspected, and he never smiled for mere attempted plots. He rarely smiled upon success. He was just amused at the irony of the moment.

Oh how easy it would be to magically bind the minds of your subjects thanks to you, if that's what somepony ever decides to do...

Not that the Ministry of Magic is much better, but the Unspeakables and the DMLE require Occlumency for recruits and Imperius resistance for promotion, and Gringotts has thief's downfall...

His smile faded to abstraction as he compared the pros and cons of each system.

When Twilight saw Riddle's guilty smile, she hummed in contentment at pointing out and spoiling his evil plan. It would have been hypocritical to neglect her own critical thinking after calling everypony else out on it, so she's been consciously trying to break the habit of taking what others say at face value, especially Riddle. Though he probably wasn't lying about his magical capabilities.

In recent months, Twilight has grown increasingly excited and apprehensive about how much untapped magical knowledge their resident alien has at his disposal. Even scarier was the thought that it wasn't going untapped...

---

Now for the other problem, Riddle thought. He tapped his cheek as he pondered his approach. He'd acquired an official vacation week for this, so he had time.

A few ideas had come to mind. He wished to explore one more data point, one more observation before tackling the problem of Atlantis. Seeing an image of the globe would be easiest, but there was no such thing as a world map of Equus. The other side of their world remains uncharted by official cartographers, and the unofficial ones didn't use methods that scaled onto large atlases.

There was a simple solution, one that required a bit of experimentation with his Horcrux system, and in particular the Elder Wand... experimentation that would be useful regardless, if it worked.

He might not be able to speak words while within his wand, but riding a broomstick, like Transfiguration, is wordless. Before his experiment began, he covered his body with the cloak of invisibility, put it into living stasis, and transferred his mind into his wand. This was after the thorough privacy warding and cautionary constraints required for ritual research, of course.

He felt downright ridiculous riding a broomstick as a wand, but he needed this information.

Among his many precautions, both objects are Things of Power – the wand as a horcrux, the broom using an ancient lost spell – so the vacuum of space and other lesser forces would not destroy them. He'd also sent a few detection devices to fly far ahead and forewarn him of anomalies in the atmosphere. He didn't know the size of Equus or its Mirror-produced pocket-universe, nor how either was bounded. An inexplicable urge to turn around, suddenly finding himself facing a planet instead of the sky, and even a simple wall were all within his expectations. Most likely in his mind was the material of the Mirror's frame, or more accurately, the inside back of the frame, which had proven to be Fiendfyre proof and was likely immune to brute magical force of any kind.

He had long ago suspected the day-night cycle of Equestria to work like the ceiling of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. His third year of Herbology had taught him that false sunlight could be used to grow plants and provide heat, so the theory of an illusion spanning the entire sky of Equus – one that could be manipulated by powerful magical beings on the planet's surface – neatly explained some of Mr. Silver's initial scientific critiques.

Though if it is a false illusion, he concluded as he climbed, it's much greater in scope than what the founders of Hogwarts accomplished. This point was hammered home by every hour he spent slowly moving upward. Broomsticks do not move at the speed of rockets, or even air-bucking, but they did have perfectly consistent maximum speeds, so he was painfully aware of the progress he was making and the distance he was traveling. Equus seemed to have a true Troposphere, Stratosphere, Mesosphere, and even Thermosphere that were all comparable to Earth's.

To pass the time, he fell back into old habits, pondering the most ancient arcane riddle as he drifted above the clouds.

What happened to Atlantis...

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...

...

...

...

Once he'd gone high enough to see the full planet below him, high enough to recognize familiar landmass shapes which the atlases did not extend to show (though not high enough to encounter any sort of outer-edge to the universe), his peaceful problem-solving came to its head.

He knew what Equus was.

He knew what the Atlanteans had done.

If he was in a comparable position back home, he might even be sitting where the Atlanteans did it, where they put the Mirror to create a realm as large as Equus... no, it would be a bit further out, given that he's yet to hit the hypothetical wall. Perhaps they went as far as the moon, and wouldn't that be a slap to Mr. Potter's pride in what muggles had accomplished before wizards.

In any case, Riddle was ready to revisit Merlin.

Comments

[Fireeaters]

I mean, Riddle's the only living wizard who knows for sure that they've even attempted the feat at that point in time, so I think it'd be more of a "How could you have fallen so far" than a snub

[Booster Spice]

Im sure I once failed a job application because I completed a psych out question sheet I aws supposed to give up at some point?

Its a Mirror Image of the earths surface, where ocean and land are swapped?

[keybounce]

But her brain would often got frustrated when she hit a brick wall,

Minor typo -- either "would often get", or "often got" (without the would).

[keybounce]

Alright, this is actually a bad thing.

It required simple order of operations and the recognition that 'divided by half' was intentional – a thing so obvious that the test-takers might condescend to assume ignorance of the test-maker and substitute 'divided by two' as they answered.

English (Poneish) is a *bad* way to express serious technicalities like this.

"Divide in half", and "Divide by half" are both used, fairly interchangeably, in casual speech. Designing a test like this, feels like asking what 230-220/2 is, and complaining when you're told, "Easy, it's 5!", loud and energetically.

This is one of those where the complaint about the question being ambiguous is a valid complaint.

[keybounce]

It was then that Twilight realized Riddle might just be lying and/or secretly joking, he couldn't really do either, and he's actually just trying to get Princess Celestia to ease the ban on magical mind-control like she eased the ban on rituals.

The first half feels like it needs a rewrite or an extra word.

Perhaps, "while Riddle might just be...". Or, "while Riddle might seem to be".

[keybounce]

11565548
Hmm. Mirror image showing *only one side of the planet*.

So there is no "back side". Depending on the rotation of the earth when it was triggered, you might get some parts or other parts of the globe.

You *can*, barely, I believe, get the old and new world continents, giving up the pacific ocean. More likely, you get the old world and give up the americas.

Backwards. So the landmasses would look flipped left/right.

... Why do mirrors appear to flip left/right, and not up/down?

[LordNobady]

11565571

... Why do mirrors appear to flip left/right, and not up/down?

That is simple. Up and down are referenced by something outside of the objects. Left and right by the objects itself. Since the mirror reflects the objects and thus appears to rotate the object 180 degrees.

[Doctor Vux]

11565560
If you say it out loud and energetically, "It's 5!" is the correct answer. Just be sure it's not too enthusiastic or your answer would be equal to 15.

[Black--Soul]

Pocket Dimension? Reminds me of 'X-Com Interceptor' where the enemy comes from a pocket Dimension.
Would be pretty neat.