Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

by daOtterGuy

Preemptive

“Focus!” Starswirl yelled.

“I am trying, Archmage,” Stygian replied, face scrunched up in concentration.

An orange was situated between master and student on a table. It was halfway toward its transformation into an apple, the seam between both fruits blurred. The pale black glow of Stygian’s magic around the fruit flickered, the strain becoming too much.

“Push, Stygian!” Starswirl shouted.

“I-I—!” The spell broke. Stygian collapsed onto the table, breathing ragged, coat covered in froth. “I’m sorry, but this task is still beyond me.”

Starswirl grabbed a nearby book in the glow of his magic and threw it across the room. It hit a bookshelf with a loud bang, dislodging several times from its shelves.

Stygian flinched.

“You’re my best pupil, and you can’t even cast the most simple of transfiguration spells!” Starswirl stomped back and forth along the floor, snorting infrequently to vent his frustration. “What is the point of taking on apprentices who are not even capable of learning what I teach?!”

“We are trying our best,” Stygian placated. “Flicker in particular has—”

“Flicker can barely cast an illumination spell!” Starswirl slammed his hooves onto the table. He shot Stygian with a cold, furious expression. “Excuses do not become you or anyone else.”

“... Is everything alright, Archmage?” Stygian asked. “You are usually more patient with us, yet your temper appears to fire off at the slightest setback this morning.”

“That is because of the sheer incompetence of the ones I have stupidly taken under my tutelage!” He slammed his hooves once more on the table, then resumed his pacing. “My legacy is in jeopardy and you are all useless toward remedying the situation.”

“You are the strongest unicorn of a generation and the Archmage of the greatest magical institute in the land,” Stygian remarked. “Your name will be known for centuries.”

He rounded on Stygian. “Centuries, but not a millenia!” Starswirl exclaimed. “Any accomplishments I may achieve from now until my final rest will be erased by some sodding peasant based on the whims of destiny!”

“Do you not mean to say could or may?”

“I do not!”

Several gears clicked into place within Stygian’s mind. “Were you perhaps gifted a vision of what is to come?”

More books were made casualties to Starswirl’s rage.

“I shall presume an affirmative,” Stygian said. “Well, I think a legacy spanning several centuries is still a worthy achievement. Fate is, regrettably, inevitable and can only be divined, not changed. You should—”

“That’s it!” Starswirled whipped toward Stygian, a crazed spark in his eye. “Divine!”

“... I do not see how seeing the vision again will provide anything more than frustration,” Stygian said.

“No, I mean to see the Oracle,” Starswirl replied, his tone suggesting the answer obvious. “He will know of a way to sustain my legacy.”

“That is rather dangerous,” Stygian said in a worried tone. “There are many a tale of—”

“Hardly applicable to one as great as myself,” Starswirl said dismissively as he began to gather supplies from around the room to take with him. “You will hold the tower. Ensure no Magi snoop around while I’m away.”

Stygian looked uncertain at Staswirl’s course of action, but reluctantly nodded in affirmation. “Very well, Archmage. Safe travels.”

“It is I, Stygian,” Starswirl retorted with a snort. “I hardly need well wishes for safety.”