Prelude Part One: The Stranger
My Little Mages: Book One
By Fallen Astral
Prelude, Part One:
The Stranger
A celestial line had divided the cosmos. The barrier itself could not be seen, but the heavens were clearly parted on either side of a great schism. One horizon glittered with tranquil blue night. The other glowed with orange celestial radiance.
Below this galactic canvas, a grassy knoll, in the center of which was planted a single tree. This particular tree was quite massive in size, an enormous and healthy specimen with widely stretched branches full of thick leaves. And as green as they were, their beauty did nothing to hide the reverence and glow of the small buds that had begun to form upon the mass entanglements of branch.
Even with no direct sunlight, the tree still thrived, its branches slowly and gracefully swaying in an invisible evening wind. There seemed to be a very hypnotic dance to the rustling leaves, as if the tree was waving towards the stars above. The heavens rolled in undulating motions, with the blue and orange tints of the sky alternating in the grace of a low and deep tide.
There was no sound ever emitted. Not a single cricket, nor a cracking of twigs. Even the rustling leaves and branches held the occasional reverence, as if the hilltop was too sacred to disturb with anything more than a quiet whisper.
The starry sky continued its quiet, multicolored dance ever onward into a boundless eternity. As the eons drifted by, the tree never died, and the quiet hilltop had never eroded away. The glow of the stars was a slow constant, never fading. Never giving so much as a dimming twinkle.
While most of Equestria had just shifted into spring, the hilltop and surrounding forestry was still gripped by clinging bits of winter. Snow covered most of the ground around the tree, and there was a lingering chill in the air. The occasional breeze would blow past, carrying echoes and howls that flew by through the dark forest, their shrieks like the cries of lonely spirits.
If the tree had a breath to even give, much less a soul of its own, it would have delivered a long, happy sigh. In fact, someone did just that. A smile had crawled over and frozen itself on the face of the young girl as she curled up tighter, hugging herself and delighting in the eternal serenity. She let out a long sigh, letting her body relax into the gentle caress of the soft grass.
Slowly but silently, her gaze turned from the dimming light of the sunset to the small masses which lay beside her. For a few seconds she stared, before turning her attention back to the glowing orange of the sun and sky.
A few moments passed, no words ever uttered. At first, the quiet seemed relaxing. But now it was quite unerving. The young girl did her best to relax despite this fact, but it soon became more and more difficult to do so.
At some point, a word had finally been spoken. Several words, in fact. It ripped the universe in twain like a butcher's knife through a veil of silky, velvet fabric. The girl's muscles tensed as she shot up, quickly checking her surroundings for any sign of danger. Nothing. Not a single creature nor sound stirred.
"What is it, Scootaloo?"
Scootaloo turned in the direction that the noise originated. It had come from her friend, Apple Bloom. Next to her sat Sweetie Belle, who continued to silently play a mandolin. Scratching the back of her head, Scootaloo took another peek of her surroundings, before replying simply with, "N-nothing. It was nothing."
Scootaloo relaxed as she slowly dropped back down to the spot she had been sitting in. Even though quiet remained, she kept up her guard, as if expecting some monstrous creature to jump out from behind and attack. But nothing happened. Not for a while, at least.
It was several minutes with pure silence. And as calm and quiet as it was, Scootaloo couldn't shake the feeling that something was out there, waiting. Just as Scootaloo's mind began to ease, a loud cry rang in the air, cutting the silence like a hot knife through butter. All three girls quickly sat up, each of them taking their turn to look around. Silence once more.
"Stupid bird! You're useless!"
The attention of the three girls turned behind them. But all that was there was the lone tree. Quiet again. Suddenly, another set of words rang out, crying "Now I've got to find something to clean this up! Thanks! Thanks, A LOT!!!"
Their heads looked up to see a man, who looked to be about sixteen years old. A few years older than the girls. He seemed to be cleaning a couple wounds. Cautiously, the girls continued to stare at the strange man, wondering exactly what he was doing. Finally, it was Sweetie Belle who decided to speak. With her soft voice, she cried out,
"Hello! What are you doing up there?"
The man screamed, before falling painfully down passed the entanglement of branches and leaves, before finally landing on the cold, hard ground below. The girls jumped up and ran to the other side of the tree to see if the man was okay, and luckily, he was still alive. Scootaloo carefully walked forward, waiting to see if the man would retaliate.
"Why did you have to go and scare me like that!?" He yelled, his gaze turned towards the three girls. He began brushing bits of dirt, snow, and grass off his clothes. Angrily, he stood back up, his eyes never leaving the gaze of Scootaloo and the girls.
Sweetie Belle was first to respond. "Sorry. My fault!" She yelled suddenly. She covered her mouth with her hands just as soon as she had said it.
"Well, I've got a few bumps and bruises. Couple scratches. Nothing to be worried about," the man said. "By the way, what could three girls like you be doing way out here?"
"That's what we want to know!" Apple Bloom yelled.
The man pulled back, surprised by her sudden outburst. "Well, if you must know," He began, "I am out here to search for something important. Now can you please go, so I can continue looking?!"
"Oh! What are you looking for?" Sweetie Belle replied.
The man slowly bent down, and picked up a staff from beneath the accumulated piles of dirt and snow. He quickly brushed off a few bits of snow and dirt and grass, before laying it against the trunk of the tree. Right after, he picked up a medium-sized bow and a small container of arrows. "Nothing important. Now go."
The girls gave confused looks. "But you said it was important." Scootaloo stated. Her gaze moved from the man to the large staff that now lay against the tree. "Wait, are you a mage!?" She yelled, excitedly.
"Yes..." The man paused, then continued. "Well, actually I'm an Arch Mage, with the powers of an arcane master. Why?" He said with a confused look.
"That's so cool!" Scootaloo yelled. She ran over to the man, and picked up his staff. She started playing around with it, throwing it around while attempting to weild the magic inside. She could feel the magic trapped inside the staff, it was like the time they caught butterflies in a jar. She could feel the faint flutters from the magic like a swarm of butterflies were inside. "I've always wanted to meet a mage!"
"Hey! That's not a toy!" The man rushed over, grabbing the staff from Scootaloo's hands. Gently, he laid it back where it was taken from, and then shot an evil glare at the three girls. His angry stare continued as the man started mumbling different things under his breath.
Scootaloo wanted so badly to jump on the man and begin attacking him, but Sweetie Belle held her back. Slowly shaking her head, Sweetie Belle once more turned to the man. "Sorry for that. She likes a lot of the things she sees, and wants to try those things out as quickly as she sees them." Her words earned a nasty look from Scootaloo.
"It's fine." The man sputtered.
Sweetie Belle paused before continuing to speak. "So, what's your name, mister?"
The man stopped all activity, and turned to her. A look of confusion was plastered to his face. He kept his stare for a few seconds, before he finally found a response. "My name is..." He stopped. "I-it's Silver Script."
"That sounds like a scribe's name." Sweetie Belle said.
Silver Script paused, turning his gaze to his staff and other tools. He continued to fiddle with them while he spoke. "Yeah, I know. That's what my mother and father expected me to be when I was born. My entire family was one full of scribes and nobles. So they named me for what they believed was my future career."
Scootaloo crossed her arms, and turned to look away from the group. She huffed, saying "Yeah, tell me about it." Her statement earned her confused grins from everyone. Sighing, she began to talk again. "When I was born, my parents wanted a boy, one who would grow up, and become a paladin like my father, or a mage like my mother. I failed them both."
Silver Script had given her his full attention now. He cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"
"I'm a monk!" Scootaloo suddenly interrupted. Tears began to slowly fill her eyes as she yelled. "A stupid monk!" She simply collapsed to the ground after she had quit yelling , and quietly began sobbing to herself. Apple Bloom rushed over to her, and crouched down as she began trying to aid her friend. Sweetie Belle said nothing, instead just standing there, her mouth agape.
Silver Script sighed. He grasped a small guitar in his hand, and fell against the tree, slowly sliding down until his body met the ground. He started humming to himself as he played a small tune on the guitar's strings. Slowly his humming grew, until he was mumbling to the words of a song. Scootaloo's cries began to lessen as she began humming to the song between sniffles.
Scootaloo's cries slowed to the point where they were nearly non-existent. Her humming continued for several minutes, until Silver Script had finished the song. He slowly brought the tune to an end, strumming the final notes until the song was finally complete. When he finally opened his eyes, Silver Script was met with the faces of the girls, each plastered with a multitude of emotions.
"What?" He asked.
Sweetie Belle stepped forward, her hand subconciously reaching towards the guitar. "W-where did you learn to play like that?"
Silver Script slapped Sweetie Belle's hand while he pulled the guitar out of her reach. He stared at the gawk-eyed girl before finally responding. "I wasn't taught, if that's what you mean. I learned it on my own."
"How did you learn to play like that on your own!?" Scootaloo asked with her typical high-pitched tomboy-ish voice.
Silver Script paused, searching his thoughts for a reasonable answer. Soon, he came up with one, and whether it was a suitable one or not was not a thought that concerned him. "Let's just say...I have a lot of time on my hands, being a messenger and all."
"Well, then you must have a lot more time than we thought!" Apple Bloom yelled. "So, uh...what song was that, exactly?" She asked, cocking her head to the side.
"Well, um..." Silver Script had difficulty in finding an answer for her question. He hadn't ever actually thought of what the name could be. In fact, he never knew what the name even was. Gathering what information he could, he gave the best answer possible for the current situation. "I actually don't know. I only can play this song because for some reason, it sort of...sticks out in my head. Where I heard the song before is a mystery to me."
Scootaloo was just as confused as he was. "Same here!" Everyone turned to her in surprise.
