As soon as school ended, no one went home... not when their minds were filled with the desire to discover more about their magical natures.
Everyone packed as quickly as they could, then rushed or walked under Miss Maple's strict gaze.
But once in the hallway, it turned into a stampede of fillies heading toward the library. I was behind all my classmates, and the excitement bubbled inside me. The assignment might have sounded boring, but discovering the scope and future of your own magic? That was fascinating. Running together toward the library was fun in itself.
For three weeks, we hadn't had access to the school's library. But now, with the teacher's confirmation, we were finally allowed in. The invisible barrier that had kept us out was no longer there.
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Chapter 17 | a Diary from somepony of the past.
As soon as school ended, no one went home... not when their minds were filled with the desire to discover more about their magical natures.
Everyone packed as quickly as they could, then rushed or walked under Miss Maple's strict gaze.
But once in the hallway, it turned into a stampede of fillies heading toward the library. I was behind all my classmates, and the excitement bubbled inside me. The assignment might have sounded boring, but discovering the scope and future of your own magic? That was fascinating. Running together toward the library was fun in itself.
For three weeks, we hadn't had access to the school's library. But now, with the teacher's confirmation, we were finally allowed in. The invisible barrier that had kept us out was no longer there.
"By Celestia!" shouted the librarian, surprised by the number of fillies entering all at once and bombarding her with questions.
But her experience quickly showed: she promptly pointed and directed everyone to the sections where they could find what they were looking for.
A line formed when Miss Maple arrived and saw the chaos in the library. It didn't take long before we received directions about where to look. All the material was considered introductory or basic, so it was all on the first floor.
The library turned out to be much larger than it seemed from the outside. Expansion magic had been used. Some magical circles hidden behind decorations were visible if one looked closely.
The scent of ink and paper filled the place as fillies spread across the various rows of bookshelves. Twilight and Lyra had long since wandered off.
I walked among the shelves looking for anything related to holy energy, sacred magic, divine magic, or similar topics. But after more than half an hour of opening and closing books, I found nothing.
Pony history is foreign to divine figures; I already knew that. That cultural difference had left a gap in the knowledge about such a classic energy as the sacred.
The sacred exists, yes… but only as a symbol, not as something magical. Another detail I noticed while flipping through the books was the kind of magic taught or recommended: civil and mundane magic.
Spells to change colors, alter reflections in a mirror, create disco balls, emergency signals, orbs of light… simple things. Nothing like the Flash. In fact, it wasn't even mentioned. Not that it surprised me—these books had been donated to help young ponies understand their magical elements. I doubt they'd promote something as rare as mine.
The three shelves dedicated to light magic held nothing relevant to me. I could only reach one obvious conclusion: I am the first known bearer of this magical trait.
And it doesn't discourage me. On the contrary—it makes it even more exciting. It's a mystery… a magical mystery.
What properties does my magic trait have? Does it punish the wicked? How does it tell someone is evil? Does it affect darkness or the undead? Could it have healing properties? Could I become a Paladin or Saint?
A thousand questions ran through my mind, fueled by so many stories I read about sacred energy.
'Well, it's something I'll only be able to discover in the future,' I thought as I searched for books about my other magical elements.
"..." I hoped to find at least a whole shelf. After all, there had to be many ponies with that type of magic in history. But I only found one old book, and beneath it, a plaque:
[Only Book of the Space-Time Element]
There was some dust on it, but it was easy to read. The book, bound in black, had no title. When I opened it, I understood why.
It was an autobiography by Turner Flow. It didn't recount daily life, but rather her failure as a unicorn. The book's age was obvious in its sun-worn, yellowed pages, protected by a spell that prevented them from falling apart.
The writing conveyed depression and anguish. The forced strokes, the damp tear stains… The desperation of not being useful to her group, of not having magic to fight the monsters.
The journal was fascinating. It clashed with the colorful, cheerful atmosphere. It felt frozen in a dark and desperate time of pony history.
The feeling of being a burden weighed heavily as I read, but that only fueled my curiosity. I kept flipping through pages, reading fragmented, scattered thoughts that offered glimpses of what it was like to live in that era:
…White Clover called me useless again. Two ponies almost died today because of my stupid interference… I just wanted to help… I didn't know there was another monster hiding… now one of the ponies—don't even know his name—lost his leg. Damn it! Why?! Why can't I have simple magic like the others?! Why this absurd and rare kind?!
…White… White… Why the buck did you save me?! You should've left me! DAMN IT!!
…Fifth day since Grogar's children started annihilating everything. I'm trapped in a cave… alone. Maybe I'll die of starvation. Water's not a problem, but food is…
…This feeling is strange. My stomach no longer hurts, but I'm cold… my hooves are trembling… please… someone…
…He calls himself Star Swirl. I don't know how he got into the cave if there was no visible entrance, but he brought hope. The young stallion gave me food. As soon as he arrived, he left. He seemed worried. I don't know what kind of magic he used, but thanks to him, I can endure a little longer…
…Those symbols… I can't forget them. They were a ray of hope, the only light in days…
"Star Swirl… how odd that he appears here." I kept reading until I found a torn-out page. But a few pages later, I found something interesting.
…I performed a miracle in my desperation. I realized those symbols were a language. Some letters worked, others exploded in my face. But I used magic. I lost my left foreleg, but I'm no longer trapped…
…I created another kind of magic. Since discovering that weird circle from the stallion, I've been able to survive alone. I can summon objects marked with those circles…
There was a rough drawing of a magic circle on the page. What was fascinating were the primitive runes forming a triangle within the magical system. On the side, another smaller circle with two lines.
The journal contained a basic summoning spell—Turner's second greatest achievement. She may have died from losing her leg or from being caught by a monster. But there was a discrepancy: the book's era and Star Swirl's appearance didn't match.
Grogar the Conqueror… and Star Swirl… shouldn't have coexisted yet.
Maybe Turner's first spell was a kind of spatial distortion that let her escape her prison, though incomplete, and that's why she lost her leg.
It's likely whoever found the journal tore out the dangerous part and left only the safer spell.
I easily detected the defective runes in the circle. It's fascinating magic. I could make it a future project. While I learn about runes and magical formulas, I can optimize or adapt this circle into a modern one.
I pulled out my personal notebook and copied the magic circle. I jotted down my ideas about the primitive runes, their possible meanings, and what I could replace them with.
I spent nearly the rest of the day researching my other magical natures. They were far more common than my two primary ones. There was a ton of information about the Earth element, and Life magic had entire professional fields dedicated to it.
A few hours before sundown—or before Princess Celestia lowered the sun—I got home. My mom was waiting at the door with a glare that could melt iron.
"Wizbell Star!" she shouted, even before I had fully opened the door. "Do you have any idea what time it is?!"
I froze. I thought about saying I was in the library, that I didn't get distracted, that I was learning… but all those words melted away when I saw her narrowed eyes and that one raised eyebrow. That one only came out when I really crossed the line… for the second time in my life.
"I know, Mom. I got caught up reading," I said quietly but honestly.
"You got caught up reading for four hours without a single magic message? Do you know how worried I was?! I was about to go to the school…!" She paused, sighed, and rubbed her face. "Just… come in."
I obeyed. The house smelled like dried flowers and toasted bread, a scent that always calmed me. But today, I didn't feel at peace. Today… I had something to say.
"Mom…" I began, walking to the dining table, where a letter rested. "I know I wasn't careful, but today I found something important. I think my magic… or at least part of it… is unique. And there's nothing about it in any book. Not really."
She looked at me in silence. Her eyes were still firm, but softer now.
"Your teacher wrote to me this morning. She said you have unusual potential," she said, turning the letter toward me. "But what she didn't know… is that you'd also receive this."
I instantly recognized the golden seal. A radiant sun embossed.
"Is that… from Princess Celestia?"
My mom nodded, though she seemed unsure how to feel about it.
I took the letter, feeling both nervous and excited. I opened it carefully, wondering what it might say. Maybe a meeting to finally get to know her… I'm supposed to be her apprentice, and I haven't even met her.
To Wizbell Star,
Word has reached me of a most unusual magical nature.
It seems you possess two affinities rarely seen in our history: one with no records, tied to Light, and another involving the principles of space-time, a field as complex as it is delicate.
Both types of magic carry ancient resonance, even older than my own time. As regent of the Sun and mentor of young magical talents, I would like to personally invite you to Canterlot Castle in three weeks' time, to observe your growth more closely.
In the meantime, keep exploring. The most powerful magic is born from curiosity and empathy.
With hope,
Princess Celestia
I said nothing. Neither did my mom. Only the ticking of the clock broke the silence.
"Wizbell…" she finally said. "I don't know what kind of magical nature you have. But it seems it's bigger than I imagined. Just promise me you won't experiment with magic alone, okay?"
The weight of how strange my magic was hadn't made me realize how delicate it could be. Thinking how easily a spatial distortion could cause a tragic ending… I could only sigh and nod.
"I won't. I swear on my future as a wizard," I replied, giving her a gentle hug so I wouldn't squish my sister.
"You've given me nothing but surprises this month. Now there's a lot to prepare for your meeting with the princess. We'll also need to ask your father, if he can figure anything out about your nearly unique magical natures," she said, stroking my mane.
"And also to talk about the punishment you deserve for being late, young colt."
"Ugh!" I groaned as she tugged one of my ears. I just hope it's not too annoying… maybe a curfew… hopefully they won't take away my books.
...
My dad didn't take long to arrive. My mom made me wait for him at the door, in silence. I could only be a spectator… no, a sentenced prisoner, an accused. There was no trial, not even a case to present my defense. The adults, unjust in their democracy, imposed the cruelest punishment they could imagine: exercising with my dad because I came home late.
As much as I love physical activity… it starts now.
"For the next hour, I am your superior, WILL STONE! You will obey my commands! Understood?!" shouted my dad, his voice rougher than usual, wearing a military beret and dark glasses that hid his eyes.
"YES, SIR!" I stood straight at his shout. I couldn't see his eyes, but I knew they were staring at me with firm resolve.
"I hope this hour helps you reflect on what you did wrong: worrying your mother by not sending a magical message about your delay. You were given ten magic scrolls, and for that you'll do ten sets! We begin with butterfly jumps!"
Hell awaits me tomorrow… today is just the appetizer.
Despite the seriousness my dad tried to show with his voice and posture, his tail swayed with how much fun he was having.
"… C-can't… go on…" I collapsed onto the grass while trying to ignore muscles I didn't even know I had. They didn't hurt, but they were stiff.
"Yah, yah, breathe, my little soldier. I hope this lateness doesn't happen again… and I don't want to hear you're holding hooves with some filly," said my mom, sitting beside me as she released soft pulses of healing magic over my exhausted body.
My dad, by that time, had already gone to prepare my bath. One that I honestly really need.
'Tonight I'll sleep like a rock.'