"Ok, class. Time to break for lunch and we'll watch a movie about dental hygiene this afternoon. Don't stray too far, now!"

Cheerilee smiled as the colts and fillies leapt up from their desks, lunch bags and boxes grasped in mouths, feathers or magic as they stampeded for the school house's door. After the shouting and laughing herd of very little ponies had left she sighed happily and began wiping the chalkboard clean of a lesson about using decimal points. She was just getting out her own lunch of broccoli soup when she heard a tapping at the still-open door.

"Ah, hello? Can I talk to you for a few minutes?"

The pale yellow unicorn who stood at the door looked nervously around the classroom and seeing no students he walked in. She had seen Clickspring around town once or twice and knew that he lived alone in the watermill north of town with no little one of his own to enroll in her school. But she'd never so much as spoken with him until now and had heard that he was very reclusive.

He was an odd little pony. Strangely shaped horn, queer four-lensed glasses and that shockingly ugly dress he was wearing that made her feel queasy. A very odd pony indeed.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Clickspring." She poured soup from a vacuum flask into a bowl and tore open a small package of crackers. "I hope you don't mind if I eat while we talk, I have to get ready for this afternoon's classes."

Clickspring sat on the floor a short distance from her desk and she heard his tummy rumble, announcing that it coveted her soup.

"Umm… Well, I was told you keep a list of Ponyville unicorns who are looking for an apprentice. I asked at the Town Hall and they said I should speak with you about it."

Cheerilee munched on a cracker that she had dipped into her lukewarm soup. She swallowed and said, "Oh? Do you want to add your name to the list? There are already more willing to become masters than I have students who need one, but you're certainly welcome to add your name if you're certified." She couldn't help glancing at his messed up horn and wondered if he was even capable of being a Master, let alone certified. Maybe she could add his name and quietly encourage her students to find somepony else. One had to be careful about who was allowed to influence a youngster's impressionable mind.

Clickspring rubbed a hoof through his blue mane and looked sheepish. "Hah ha hah… Actually, the thing is, I'm looking for a master. For myself, that is."

She stopped with her spoon halfway to her mouth and stared at Clickspring, after a moment she blinked and dropped her spoon back into the bowl with a wet 'plop'. Cheerilee thought about switching into Lecture Mode and giving this odd unicorn a serious talking to, about how the list she had was intended for use by her young students and how the ponies on the list would no doubt react when an adult instead of a foal came to ask them to become his Master. But she really didn't have time for what would no doubt be a long discussion, not if she hoped to get something into her empty belly and get set up for the afternoon class.

With a resigned sigh, she pulled open one the file folder drawer on her desk, reached in and pulled out a thin sheaf of stapled papers.

She held it out to Clickspring and said, "Here you go. This is the info package and forms that I give to one of my students when they're ready to look for a Master. There's some information about being an apprentice, an application form and a list of potential masters in Ponyville. You need to fill in the form and give it to whoever you ask to be your Master. If they accept, the form goes to Canterlot."

Taking it from her hoof with his magic Clickspring smiled warmly. "Thank you very much!"

He folded the papers in thirds, tucked it into the belt of his kilt and took off, seeming to be in a big hurry to get out of the school.

Cheerilee slid the drawer closed, sighed, shook her head and got back to work on her soup.

Stopping at the Café Hay for a quick lunch, Clickspring read through the 'So You're Looking For A Master' pages of the handout. He had been given a similar handout when he was a foal and it seemed that not much had changed about how the Master / Apprentice relationship worked. The only real change seemed to be that it was now more formalised and integrated with the rest of the education system. When he'd been young, decades ago, it had been a completely unsupervised part of a unicorn's life: You hit a certain age and you looked for a Master to tutor you outside of your regular classes. Now there was mandatory registration, certification of masters, a standardised course and exams. Ugh. Exams.

Having third and fourth thoughts about doing this he looked over the application form while munching his way through a pile of fried potatoes seasoned with vinegar and salt. Name, Age, Address, School…

'Guess I have to leave that one blank.'

Cutie Mark, T.C. Level…

'What in Equestria is a 'T.C. Level'?'

Then a long list of spell theory classes with blank lines where the applicant was to fill in their grade and below that some blank lines to fill in what spells they had already learned. He would have to dig up his old report cards to fill in the grades and he felt a bit ashamed by how much space had been left to fill in known spells. He'd be leaving that mostly blank. There were also a few blank lines for the applicant to say what they hoped to get out of being an apprentice.

It was a question that he didn't really have an answer for.

Rarity was tired after a long day of work, but she also felt quite pleased. The damage caused to the Carousel Boutique by those adorable and yet wretched parasprites was almost completely repaired. From adversity had come triumph, as the new range of couture she had fabricated for display purposes were even finer than the ones that had been consumed.

Thinking of eating, she realised she was absolutely famished! Perhaps tonight was a momentous enough occasion to justify splashing out a little and having dinner at Chez Françoise. While not as outstanding as some of the fabulous restaurants in Canterlot or Manehatten, at least going by what she had read about them, it was undoubtedly the finest dining establishment in Ponyville. Oui! Oui, tonight was a fine evening to enjoy Fancy cuisine. She hoped that her sister would not make too, too much of a fuss about it.

"Sweeetie Beeelle!" She trotted over to the stairs and called up to her little sister, who was staying over while their parents were out of town. "Sweetie Belle! Would you like to have dinner at Chez Françoise?"

"Do I havta eat those stinky mushroom things again?"

"No, you don't have to eat truffles this time. Just don't order the pommes boulangeres again, I'm sure there are plenty of other dishes you could try. And don't forget they have divine à la carte pastries for dessert!" Rarity did so love a delicious Fancy pastry with dessert café. "Oh! Have you finished your homework?"

"Aaalmost!"

Someone knocked on the front door to her shop and before she headed off to answer it she called up, "Come down when you've finished and we'll go."

Rarity trotted to the front of her shop hoping that it wasn't a customer who needed last-moment adjustments made. But if it was, hopefully it would not take long, because Rarity was a professional and passionate about her work and she would put off her own plans if that was what it took to satisfy a customer.

However, she would not be well pleased about it.

Peeping through the small diamond-shaped window on the door she was slightly surprised by whom she saw. The unicorn stallion who sat outside her door was not one of her customers and though she knew who he was from gossip, they had never even so much as spoken to one another before. Oh well, nothing for it but to open the door and find out what brought him to her boutique.

Rarity opened the door and with a most charming smile, she said, "Good evening, gentlepony. I'm afraid the boutique is closed at this hour but perhaps if you could come back tomorrow?" Then she spotted the THING that Clickspring had wrapped around his hindquarters and gasped, "Dear Celestia! You poor pony!" Overcome with compassion and horror she grabbed him in her magic and dragged him inside. She stuck her head out the door, looked left then right and slammed the door shut before anypony saw such a fashion crime on her own doorstep.

Clickspring skidded to a halt in the middle of the round room, still sitting on his haunches. He blinked in confusion as Rarity approached, levitating a tape measure, a notepad and a pen as she came.

"It's going to be all right, Mr. Clickspring. Soon the trauma of being seen in public in that HIDEOUS dress will soon be only a sad memory."

Waving his forelegs he backed away from the mare-on-a-mission and yelped, "Oh no, no, no, no! I'm not here for clothing or anything. My kilt is just fine!"

Rarity glared through squinted eyes at the nightmare that was wrapped around his backside. "That! Thing! Is NOT just fine."

"It's a family heirloom!"

"Then it should be in a museum and certainly not being worn in public. Ugh! Who would choose such horrible, horrible colours? Let alone combine them like that?" She was going to be sick if she had to keep looking at it, so she turned away and put her tape measure, pen and notepad back on her designing desk. She shuddered delicately.

Clickspring sighed and shrugged. "Some crazy Shetlander's idea of fashion, I guess. Look, I know your shop is closed for the day and I don't want to intrude… This is really awkward. You don't even know me, but I have a favour I'd like to ask."

Twilight had warned her and the others that there would be times like this, when being the bearer of the Element of Generosity would bring troublesome situations to darken her door. Probably best to treat it like a band-aid and get it taken care of at once.

Not daring to turn around and suffer through seeing that, ugh, kilt again, she said, "Ask away then, but if it's not about creating the most beautiful clothing in Equestria, I'm not certain I'll be equipped to help you." Sweet sisters! She hoped he wasn't about to ask her on a date or something equally uncouth!

"Well… It's kind of embarrassing."

Oh no, he was! Wasn't he? What kind of mare did he take her for? She didn't even know him, and to come barging into her home dressed like that? With his screwed up horn? Rarity felt herself starting to hyperventilate.

"I was wondering if you'd be willing to…"

Here it comes!

"...be my Master."

"What?!"

"What?"

Rarity turned around to stare at Clickspring, then at her sister standing halfway down the stairs, then at Clickspring again. Clickspring meanwhile had been startled by Sweetie Belle's squeaky exclamation coming from behind him and was staring over his shoulder at the little filly, his eyes wide and ears flat against his skull.

"S-Sweetie Belle. Could you perhaps give us a moment? We'll go out for dinner after I've had a little chat with Mr. Clickspring here." She waved a hoof, trying to shoo her precocious sister back up the stairs.

Ignoring her Rarity, Sweetie Belle came down the stairs, almost stumbling in her haste and whined, "But I'm hungry nooow! Did he just ask you to be his Master? But he's so old!" She trotted over to Clickspring, looked up at him and said, "Hey, you were at the school today talking to Miss Cheerilee. I'm Sweetie Belle, Rarity's sister, are you really going to be her apprentice? How would that even work? What happened to your horn? Does it hurt? Why are you wearing a dress?"

Clickspring slowly scooted away from Sweetie Belle and his mouth opened and closed as he tried to formulate an answer to even one of her questions.

Quickly crossing the room Rarity caught her sister in her forelegs and pushed her back towards the stairs. "Not right now, Sweetie Belle. Please do as I ask and I'll buy you an extra pastry for dessert. Adults have to talk about something serious now."

Sweetie moaned, "Awwwwww… But it was gettin' interesting! I thought he was gonna ask you out! But wanting you to be his Master? That's just, weird."

"Go on, now. I'll call you when we're finished." She smootched the top of Sweetie Belle's head and gave her another push up the stairs, then stood watching until her sister was out of sight. She then rounded on Clickspring who was still sitting silently in the middle of her boutique wearing that affront to every fashionable fibre of her being.

"Now then. What was this about wanting to be my apprentice? Is this some kind of silly joke? Did Rainbow Dash put you up to this?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion and she snorted and pawed at the floor, starting to become angry.

"No! No, nopony is putting me up to anything." Clickspring sighed and confessed, "Well, I guess you could say my therapist is making me do this." He grimaced and said, "Look, I'm not crazy or anything."

"The thought never crossed my mind." The sarcasm in her voice made it perfectly clear that she was wondering why she'd let this poorly dressed lunatic into her home.

Clickspring rubbed a hoof over his eyes and said, "Please let me try this again?"

"I'm listening."

"Thank you." Clickspring inhaled, held it a moment and said, "I didn't have a Master when I was a colt and my therapist has asked me to see if anypony in town would be willing to take me on as an apprentice. I think the idea is to try and fill in that part of being a unicorn that I missed out on. Cheerilee gave me the paperwork for it and so here I am, asking if you'd be willing to tutor me. To be my Master."

Rarity walked over and sat down on the floor, facing Clickspring.

"Why are you asking me? Is it due to my being the bearer of the Element of Generosity? You should know that I won't agree to your bizarre request just because of that."

"What? Oh… right. Honestly, that never crossed my mind. I thought that with you being a dressmaker there might be some crafting spells you could teach me that I'd find useful for my clockmaking."

Rarity hummed and looked at him through narrowed eyes. This was simply too preposterous to be one of Dash or Pinkie's gags, they were more likely to use whoopie cushions or precariously positioned buckets of water. Clickspring seemed earnest in his appeal. There was no denying that this could be beneficial for her as well, as she had decidedly not been looking forward to perhaps being asked to become Master for Snails or Snips. If she already had an apprentice her name would be removed from the list before one of those dolt colts went looking for their own Master.

"May I see your application form, please?"

Clickspring pulled a bundle of folded up papers from where he had it tucked in his belt and floated it over to her. She flipped past the first few pages and read the application form, grimacing at his poor writing; if she did agree to take him on as an apprentice one thing she would try to teach him was to have a little more care and style. Some panache would be nice too, one could never over-do the panache. At the very least she would simply have to get him out of that horrid kilt.

She felt her ears flush as the double entendre's second meaning occurred to her.

"Ohhh my… You certainly do have a great deal to learn. What is 'Dyadic Math'?"

"A simplified math spell, I have a hard time casting math spells. I could show you how it works if you want."

She folded the papers and floated them back to Clickspring. "You need to fill in your T.C. Level before your application could be submitted."

"Umm… Stupid question, but what is a 'T.C. Level'?"

"Thaumatic Conductivity. It's a measure of how attuned your body and horn are for working with magic. You can get the tests done at Ponyville General Hospital." She sighed and said, "I need some time to think about this, Mr. Clickspring. Please get your level tested and come see me again. All right?"

Clickspring stood up and shook himself, wiggling his rump to get his kilt back into shape. Rarity shuddered and had to look away.

"Ok, Miss Rarity. Thank you for taking the time to listen to me. Sorry for interrupting your dinner plans." Clickspring trotted off towards the door.

"Quite all right, Mr. Clickspring. Please see yourself out, I have a curious little sister to scold and then treat to dinner." She hoped nopony would see him as he left the Carousel Boutique; perhaps she should have asked him to leave by the back door? She turned and smiled up at Sweetie Belle who was peeping down from the top step of the stairs, calling up to her, "Well… After that I'm more in the mood for something greasy and spicy, how does Elote Loco sound?"

Sweetie Belle clattered down the stairs and hugged her sister, giving her a sad puppy dog stare. "N-no pastries?"

Wrapping her forelegs around Sweetie to return the hug, she said, "Oh, but there simply must be pastries! We will pick some up on the way home."

"Yaaaaaaaaaay!"

Clickspring was surprised that all of the lights in the hospital's lobby were still on this late at night or early in the morning depending on how you looked at it. He yawned and blinked his bleary eyes as he trotted over to the reception desk. It was way past his bedtime but this is when they had made the appointment for his T.C. test, telling him that they only ran them very early in the morning.

Noctilucent had put her book down when Clickspring entered and she smiled at him as he approached the desk. "G-good evening, Clicky. Prepared for your test?"

He nodded and said, "Yeah, I guess so. If I can stay awake long enough to get through it. You're working the night shift now?"

"Y-yes, since Sunday. I v-volunteered as I am a bit of a n-night owl." She looked in the appointment book and wrote a check mark next to Clickspring's 2 A.M. appointment and said, "The examination room is in the East wing, room number t-three. D-do you wish for me to accompany you?"

Clickspring yawned again, holding a hoof over his gaping mouth. "Aaaaaah… No, I think I can find my way, thanks. Enjoy your book." He trotted off into the east wing, stopping at one of the hospital's wooden doors. The sign next to it read 'East-3' and Clickspring tapped on the door with one of his hooves.

He heard a feminine sounding squeal, "Eeeeee…" Then a cough before the voice said, "Enter."

Clickspring opened the door and blinked owlishly at the nurse who would be running his test, a bat-winged nocturnal pegasus. Clickspring had dated a nocturnal pegasus stallion for a while but he hadn't seen one in a long time as there weren't many living in Ponyville.

She was smaller than a regular pegasus mare and somewhat furrier, almost shaggy. Her hide was dark grey, she had a black mane and tail with black tufts on her ears. Her cutie mark was a red cross with a black heart over top of it. A white nurse's cap perched atop her black mane which was pulled back into the standard nurses' bun. She blinked bright yellow eyes which had cat-like slit pupils, fluttered her black batwings and yawned, opening her mouth wide to show Clickspring rows of perfectly white and very, very sharp looking fangs in her muzzle.

He shuddered as prey impulses like 'run', and 'hide', and 'bend over' fought for control of his body. He'd always enjoyed that extra bit of excitement when he was fooling around with Sable Squall.

She was sitting atop a stool, next to a counter which ran along one side of the room. It had a small wash sink and atop it sat a large glass jar of tongue depressors, several boxes of medical supplies and an octopus-like bundle of thick beige wires with round sensors on the ends.

She gestured to the other red-fabric-topped stool and in a slightly squeaky and sibilant voice said, "Hello Mr…" She glanced at a clipboard sitting on the counter and lisped, "Mr Clickthpring. Please take a seat."

"Uh, hi."

He scooted his butt up onto the stool and waited, anxiously glancing at the octopus of wires that reminded him of equipment that had been used to test his heart and brain function in the past.

"My name is Nurse Blackheart and I'll be running you through a T.C. test this evening. When did you last have it done?"

Clickspring shook his head and replied, "Never. Didn't even know it existed until yesterday."

"Oh! Well, it's not painful. I have to stick several sensors on you and get you to perform a few simple spells while the machine records how well you absorb and use the ambient magic. That's why we do this test late at night. The magic is more stable when everypony is asleep."

Nurse Blackheart turned to the counter and pulled a pair of thin, yellow rubber hoof covers out of one of the boxes. She slipped them onto her fore hooves and then scooped up the tangle of wires in a fetlock and scooted her wheeled stool a little closer to him.

Holding one of the round sensor pads in her hoof she bit and tore a little paper cover off of it, and spat it into a trash bin. This exposed a shiny patch of glue. She lisped, "The gloves should keep me from triggering your P.F.A.Ehth., but let me know if you have any problems. Ok?"

She pressed the sticky, round pad against Clickspring's chest.

Fortunately, the gloves worked as expected and she was able to continue sticking sensors on him until he had a dozen of them on various parts of his body. Eight around his torso, two on his neck, and one on each of his temples. Then she slipped a white, open-ended, hollow cone over his corkscrewed half-horn, it's wire dangling down through his mane and along one side of his face.

Clickspring was tense, sweaty and trying to focus is mind on thinking cold thoughts about distant mountain peaks and certainly not about the exotic young mare poking and prodding him. He was thankful when she finished up and backed away, leaving a cinnamon-like musky odour in the air.

"There. All set. Do you have any questions before we begin, Mr. Clickthpring?"

He shook his head, making the wires rattle. "Not so far, no. Ummm... What spells do I have to cast?"

"Just a moment…"

She turned and switched on the measuring equipment, which beeped and began charting Clickspring's vitals as wiggly lines on a continuous sheet of graph paper. With her wing tips, she picked up a pair of dark goggles from the counter and slipped them on. "For the first test, I want you to light up your horn. Make it as bright as you can and hold it for thirty seconds."

"Umm… I'm not very good at holding a steady light, so should I try for steady or for bright?"

"As bright as you can and try to hold it steady." She half stood up from her stool and leant past Clickspring to switch off the room's light with one of her wings and then sat back down. "Ok, whenever you're ready."

Clickspring had had to lean back to avoid having his snoot bumped by Blackheart and he was relieved that the room was now completely dark. There had been a stirring from down below that left him wishing he'd worn his kilt. Closing his eyes he concentrated on lighting his horn.

He felt the magic contained within him respond to his will, slithering through his body like warm silk and pouring up into the base of his horn. He didn't attempt to sculpt the energy into a spell, so the keratin of his horn simply began to glow. On the left side anyway. He could feel the crumbly, unhealthy stump of horn on the right side absorbing magic and warming up a little before abruptly discharging the stored magic back into him. Most of the backwashing magic was drawn into the good side of his horn and caused the brightness of the light to surge.

The pulsing instability was nothing new to Clickspring, he'd been dealing with this since he was a little colt and his power had first manifested. Gritting his teeth he slowly increased the flow of magic, which was easier to do once the initial push to get his horn to light up was done.

Nurse Blackheart snorted and said, "Please try to keep it steadier. You can stop when the machine beeps."

He felt a hot flush through his body and a prickling all over his hide as the hairs stood on end. The rushing silk sensation of magic flowing through his body intensified as he began drawing in the environmental magic and conducted it into his horn.

Knowing that there was nothing he could do about the pulsing caused by his wonky horn, Clickspring concentrated on keeping the flow of magic into and through his body at a constant rate. The nurse wanted him to push the light spell as hard as he could but he didn't dare, not with the right side of his horn starting to heat up already.

Through his closed eyes he could see the light coming from his horn getting dimmer and taking on a red tint, despite keeping the flow of magic at a constant rate. Gritting his teeth he pushed a bit harder, increasing the flow and bizarrely the throbbing light grew even dimmer as the right side of his horn became unbearably hot. It felt like a glowing coal was being pressed into his skull. The light grew dimmer and redder and eventually disappeared altogether, despite the continuing flow of magic through his body and up into his horn.

When he heard the recording machine beep Clickspring immediately stopped pushing magic into his horn and sagged atop the stool, exhaling the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and panting loudly. He felt dizzy and there was a quick, dark red flash from the left side of his horn as the flow of magic slowed and then stopped. The right side felt like it was on fire! He reached up with a hoof to rub at it, pushing the sensor cone up along his horn. It felt hot against the heels of his hoof and he could feel bits coming off as he rubbed, falling down his face like grains of sand. While he was used to how the stub frequently shed fragments, this was the worst it had ever been.

Clickspring hissed while rubbing his head and said, "That sucked."

He heard Nurse Blackheart moving around a little in the pitch black room and she said, "Can you reach behind you and turn the lights on, please?"

Reaching back and fumbling around for a moment, he found the switch and the overhead light came on. Blackheart had pushed the dark goggles up onto her forehead and she blinked her bright yellow eyes a few times before turning around to switch off the recording machine.

Clickspring whimpered, "It feels like my horn is on fire."

Blackheart grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the tap, wrung it out and held it out it to Clickspring. He grabbed it, careful to avoid touching the nurse, and pressed it to his horn stub and sighed in relief while she turned back to the machine to have a look at the chart. She hummed and made little chirps and clicks while looking over the chart.

Clickspring wiped his sweaty face with the damp cloth and while his forehead still ached, it didn't feel like it was burning anymore. With a few swipes, he brushed fragments of horn away from his right eye.

"So, how did I do?"

"Just a moment." Blackheart tore the section of paper off of the sensor and began writing down the peak numbers from the chart into a form on her clipboard, then did a little simple calculation and wrote the result into a box a third of the way down the page. She stared at it, brows furrowed. Then she double checked the sensor readings on the chart and her math.

Starting to worry, Clickspring sat and listened to the quiet squeaks and peeps that the nurse was making as she checked the chart again. It was kind of cute but she seemed annoyed with whatever she was seeing, and test results that caused medical staff to get upset were never a good thing.

The nurse grunted and turned back towards him and said, "I'm not certain that these results are accurate, Mr. Clickthrping. The machine might be out of calibration or something. A technician will need to take a look the machine and we don't have one on staff here, so that might take a day or two. I'd like to send your chart to a specialist in Canterlot to get their opinion, if that's ok?"

Clickspring sighed and tossed the cloth up onto the counter. "Yeah, sure. I guess that's it for tonight then?"

Nurse Blackheart nodded and said, "Until we get the machine checked. Actually, it might be best to see what the specialist says before we do the rest." She reached out and lifted the cone off of his horn and tugged on each of the sensor cables, which made little 'rip' sounds as each one pulled free from his hide.

She tsked at the smell of burnt hair that came from Clickspring's damaged horn.

Clickspring rubbed his eyes and blearily remember the application form. "Oh, any chance you can let me know what I scored? I have a form that I need to submit that requires it."

Blackheart grabbed the clipboard and showed the results of her calculation to Clickspring, pointing out the tally for the first test. "You scored 104. But that can't be right. You'll have to update your form when we hear back from the specialist and finish the tests."

"Ok, thanks." He scratched a hoof over where one of the sensors had been stuck into his chest fur and grimaced at the strands of goop that stretched between fur and hoof claws. "Ugh… I need a shower. Does this glue stuff wash out?"

"Yep, just use a lot of soap. If you'd like there are showers here you can use."

"Eh. It's only a short walk home."

Clickspring slid off of his stool and for a moment he felt slightly dizzy and weak. "On second thoughts, maybe I'll just take it easy for a bit. Where are those showers?"

Author's Note

I've lost count of how many times I've re-written the T.C. testing scene. Ugh. Hopefully, this version is ok.

Please let me know if you see anything that looks broken... aside from Clicky's horn.

Edit: Cross Lament is working hard to save you from my terrible punctuation.