Strange Alchemy

The wind blew quickly over the ocean cliffs, and Doctor Dee examined the sky closely, watching each cloud as it passed. The conditions were not ideal at all. There were far more clouds than he had initially anticipated, and in the distance, a storm seemed to be brewing out over the ocean. Such an event was an unexpected stroke of both good and bad luck: good, because it would provide a fortuitous backdrop for the day’s events, and bad, because it meant that he would need to start immediately.

He looked down from the sky and rubbed his eyes. In the past two weeks, he had received precious little sleep. Not because there was any rush, of course; being immortal, Third Horn was surprisingly patient and would have gladly waited as long as a month or even two, or even as much as a year. Rather, the sleep denervation came from Dee’s own excitement and his flurried preparations for an event that would not only secure his career, but his place in Equestrian history as well- -assuming it worked.

Dee straightened his robes- -the most wizardly set he owned- -and collected his scrolls. He took a breath, steadying his mind, and slowly started climbing the stares that led to the tall wooden stage that had been constructed at the very edge of the cliff. As he did, he could not help but feel as though he were walking up the scaffold of a gallows.

When he reached the top, the crowd below silenced in awe of his presence. They looked up at the Magus Doctor Dee, and he took a long moment to inventory who had attended. The crowd was indeed large, consisting of unicorns who had come from the nearby city that had been built in the shadow of the Citadel, all looking expectantly toward their hero. Behind them, in a separate section, stood earth ponies who stared up at him with dumb, confused expressions. Surely, Dee thought, they would have no comprehension of what was going on.

Farther back, a stand had been constructed to raise the nobility above the commoners. Two areas caught Dee’s attention immediately. The first was the shaded platform at the top of the structure, where Amddiffynnwr stood sentry beside a smaller, younger mare seated on a luxurious cushion, her body completely covered in thick and extravagant royal robes. She seemed intrigued and distracted by the crowd below alone, but Amddiffynnwr was watching Dee carefully, his dreadfully serious expression passing judgement with a tinge of something that might easily be mistaken for contempt.

The other group that was more important, however, were the robed figures below the royal box. Each of them was clad in brown, and each of them, Dee knew, was a powerful mage. They, as he was, were students of the arcane- -and he knew that each of them, were they given the chance, would not hesitate to slit his throat to take his place as Magus.

Before the attention of the simple-minded earth ponies could fade, Dee charged his horn and amplified his booming voice over the crowd.

“Ladies, gentlecolts,” he began, addressing the assorted nobility that sat on the wings of the stands above the commoners, organized by rank, “my brethren wizards, the unicorn citizens of Equestria, and,” he bowed slightly. “Princess Fyr’mond.” He paused, in part for effect and in part to collect his thoughts. Though public performance was certainly not new to him, he was striving for a tone of simplicity, seriousness, and dignity associated with his position. “I have been tasked by our glorious leader Emperor Third Horn to perform a feat that will demonstrate to you his power, and the power of Equestria.”

Dee raised his hoof toward the yellow sky. Far above the clouds sat the eternal spheres- -one burning perpetually red, and the other, on the opposite side of the sky, burning with crystalline white. Never before had he felt so nervous- -and alive. “The power of knowledge feeds the power of magic- -and on this day, I, Doctor Dee, shall move both the sun and the moon!”

A collective murmur rushed through the crowd- -but it was rapidly overshadowed by a chortle from the mages across from the stage.

“Such is impossible!” laughed an aged wizard, his unkempt beard so long that it nearly dangled into the earth pony rabble below. “What foolishness is this? The sun and moon are bound eternally to the firmament.”

“To move them- -ha!” cried another sorcerer, this one fat and balding. “No known force can defy nature! The theory is sound, Dee! You have reached beyond yourself!”

The crowd below did not seem to know who to believe, but even with their conflict, Doctor Dee only smiled. He knew the theories- -and knew that the mages that maintained them believed that knowledge consisted of nothing more than memorizing the contents of ancient texts, carrying their unfounded dogma with them at the expense of new ideas.

They had not heard what he had. The music that came from the Spheres, their call, their song. He had. Dee had spent his life studying that music, and the way the heavens moved. Staring into the sun through a telescope for countless hours had cost him the sight of his right eye, but the knowledge of the universal engines and mathematics of creation were priceless. He knew so much more than they ever would.

So without a word, he began the process to prove him wrong. He separated the scrolls he held, and each one drifted away from him into a circle around him, unrolling as they moved. Each one contained a powerful of his own design ingrained upon each one. The gold and antimony ink on one scroll alone was worth more than five years wages for even the most skilled of artisans, but not one drop had been wasted. Dee had painfully inscribed each of the precise runes, calculating their exact composition and required shape, etching them into the paper with a quill held in his mouth to avoid interference from his own magic. Now their time had come to shine.

Dee turned his head to the sky and closed his eyes, focusing his mind on the impossibly complex spell that was forming in his head. He had, of course, never practiced it- -but he understood the theory and the mathematics, and put absolute faith in his calculations.

Then, suddenly, with a shout, the glow of his magic poured inward on his horn, generating a sphere of energy that expanded outward like an explosion. The crowd ducked, but the blast never reached them: instead, it was stopped by the scrolls themselves as they absorbed the force.

Power surged through Dee as they processed the magic and began the preparatory phase. All around him, constructs of yellow spells formed themselves: gears and cogs, spheres and geometric shapes, each one a key component of an abstract machine, clicking forward as they processed the complex computations of the spell.

The wind began to rush inward, toward Dee, and he felt the power of the spell lifting him upward. He allowed it, and floated into the air. Inside, he felt as though his body were about to be torn apart. The magic was filling him to terrifying proportions, but he held onto it tightly, his logical mind biasing itself against every instinct his mortal body had and absorbing ever more energy.

Then he released it. From his horn, a powerful bolt of energy soured into the heavens, and he heard the music of the Spheres echoing through his mind. Their song was indeed a sad one: both of them called continuously, reaching out to something below, something that never responded to them.

Now it was Dee who responded. He grasped both of them in his power, feeling his mind wrap around their impossible dimensions. Unlike the fool wizards who now stared open mouthed, waiting- -and hoping- -for him to fail, he understood their nature. He had listened, and he understood.

Dee roared as a second surge of magic poured through his body. His body was beginning to overheat from the exertion, and he could feel his bones twisting under the expenditure of energy, threatening to snap at any moment. Even then, he knew that he must not fail.

Then, at his will, the Spheres began to move. At first, their motion was nearly imperceptible- -but then the crowd gasped in awe as the moon began to set, and the sun started to rise into the center of the sky. With the white light of the moon gone, the crowd and all of Equestria was cast by a noon as dark as blood. The earth ponies screamed in horror, and some wept- -and even the unicorns appeared terrified by this power.

With his power at its zenith, Dee held the sun aloft for several moments, and then started to lower it. The ponies below sighed in relief, not knowing what Dee had in store next. As the sun set, he once again raised the White Sphere. It rose in an arch across the sky, passing its original location, and progressed toward the zenith.

As the sun set, the white light of the moon dominated- -but the light of the moon, Dee had learned, was special in its own right. Instead of casting light, it cast darkness across the yellow sky. The perpetual light of above was replaced with perfect darkness, the only light being the cold glow of the moon above. Dee winced silently. Though the moon did not burn as much as the sun, his mind was filled with horrible visions of madness and disease. Only through his internal seals was he able to maintain his sanity.

Now the crowd started to panic, not understanding what was going on. They cowered from the darkness that surrounded them, fearing it and the madness of the moon instinctively but not knowing why or how to escape. Even the princess clung to the side of her escort, who watched the scene with keen stoic disinterest.

The magic around Dee suddenly shuddered. Feedback poured back into his horn. Most of it was buffered by the scrolls, but the amount he received hit him in the chest and mind like a hammer. The Spheres were beginning to buck, to resist his will. They did not deem him a worth, compatible user, and they were attempting to return to their original positions. Their song had become angry, as though they resented the defiance of their natural locations.

Before setting the moon, though, Dee performed one final feat. As the sun rose in the south, he pulled the moon behind him, and used its new position to shift the tide. Behind him, the ocean rose suddenly- -and burst over the high cliff, pouring behind him in a massive wave, showering the crowd in shining droplets, framing Dee in his mastery of the tides themselves.

Then he allowed them to return to their places in the sky, moving them slowly. The scrolls around him were burning to ash, their framework overloaded by the power of the spell. Dee himself already knew that he had suffered irreparable damage to his body and magic from performing the spell, but he had still survived. Gently, he allowed the Spheres to reset themselves, and then slowly lowered himself to the stage below.

He landed softly and hid his immense pain and breathlessness from the crowd. He stood high and stared the dumbstruck mages in the eyes- -and then bowed to Princess Fyr’mond.

The audience was silent for a long moment, many of them still shaking with fear. Then, all at once, they seemed to burst into applause and cheers of wonderment. Even some of the earth ponies joined in, whistling through their hooves in rustic appreciation.

Dee bowed once more, and then departed the stage with a smile on his face. As he descended the stares, he turned to one side and vomited blood. He could not believe he had attempted something so foolhardy, and he knew in his heart that he could not possibly repeat his performance again. He would not survive. No pony could. He alone could divide the night from the day, because any other being that attempted to do so would surely die. No such creature could possibly exist- -and if they did, they would surely be a terrifying sight to behold.

Several of his earth-pony servants reached out to steady him, but he waved them away. He wiped the blood away from his mouth, and continued to smile, even though all the pain- -because he was, in fact, happy. He had succeeded where others had failed, and proved his theories to be true. He was the most powerful unicorn alive, and, with this grand feat, had secured his destiny.