It Starts @ Twelve (12)

Staring up at the plain marbled ceiling a young minotaur calf sighed then turned and shifted in his bed.

It had been like this for half an hour now. In bed by 8, lights out for the whole house by 10. Yet despite his usual bed time sleep seemed to allude him.

Shifting left then shifting right the minotaur calf tried to get comfortable. For awhile this continued, the constant shifting of positions, trying to find a spot or manner of lay that would allow the embrace of sleep to take him. But no matter which way he turned the bed seemed to lose its softness. Sheets rustled and became wrinkled, covers were tossed off then back on, over and over this went on for minutes until finally the young calf threw his comforter off with a irritated sigh.

It was going to be one of those nights, it seemed.

Hopping off bed and walking towards a shelf, he picked up the clock. "8:45 p.m." the time read, Asterion stared at it with his bottom lip out in a pout.

Correction. It was going to be a long night.

On cloven hooves the young calf returned to his bed, sitting down at the edge and drummed gently on the mattress with slim sturdy fingers. What was a calf to do when they couldn't sleep? He wondered.

His eyes looked towards the door. The door that led out of his bedroom. Ears perking Asterion tried to listen for any signs of movement outside. Hearing nothing, he rose, moved to his door, opened it and then peaked down the large hall. The dark, empty hall that went in only one direction was all that greeted him.

"...Hello?" he whispered to the dark, only to be answered by silence. Glancing towards his mess of a bed (a mess that would surely upset Miss Fold and Miss Firm, maids that ensured he woke up on time for school), he bit his lip.

What was a calf to do when they couldn't sleep? He pondered. The answer seemed simple.

Perhaps he'd get a glass of water.

Silently, once his bed had been remade, he closed the door with a cautious click and moved down the dark hall, treading carefully as he went.

It was not long before stairs came into view, given vision from the dimness of a sleeping household by way of the adjacent windows granting moonlight to shine through.

Carefully, Asterion focused on every step. Moving with skill, of which he imagined would have impressed Zhou Lee the displaced prime ape assassin of the Treasure Plane comic series. Inch by inch he moved carefully forward, cloven hooves barely making a sound as he entered the larger corridor and gave a cautious glance to the door just ahead of him.

Mother would not be pleased if she knew he was up past his bed time. She had already checked up on him twice as he had been preparing for bed, now he feared a third possible visit especially when the big day was so near.

But, came a thought, the early signs of rebellion as Asterion felt his resolve crumbling, eyeing that door where mother dearest might lay asleep, I can't sleep. Surely a walk or a glass of water will do me some good to get some rest?

Well, the young calf thought. He couldn't fault that reasoning. Yes, a glass of water would be just fine, mother would not be so upset if she knew he was having a bit of trouble sleeping. She and more importantly, his nanny and head of the servant staff, Early Rising, would surely understand.

And if they don't, well...that's fine also. I'll be a bull soon anyway and having a longer bed time is what big bulls do. And with that thought in mind, screwing up his courage, the calf moved as silently as possible down the spiral stairs towards his destination.

Step after step after step Asterion went down the winding case till finally on the fifth step down-- like a speaker phone being turned on and some horrible jerk loudly clearing their throat, he heard a creak. A creak so loud it might as well have been someone obnoxiously blowing their nose in the middle of a conversation.

Confidence wavered, but did not completely crumble when he saw no door opening or no voices calling him back to bed.

Fate however seemed content to taunt the rebellious calf with creaks now and again. Every few steps Asterion would cringe at the slightest sound his hooves would make at even the tiniest of noises on the old old wood. Noises sounding much louder in a place that had retired for the night. The creak would carry off up into the air the moment his weight settled, going up the moonlit staircase, and hopefully die out before it hit his beloved adult supervisors ears.

He wondered when mother intended to have these stairs replaced with something sturdier and frowned at the prospect that maybe she had left the creaking wood as it was to make it easier to pick up on his occasional post-bedtime snack thefts.

It's not my fault Madame Early makes such delicious chocolate chip. The young calf pouted as he recalled that one time he'd been caught with his hand in the literal cookie jar.

Creak

Freezing, Asterion heard movement as he stepped off one stair and quietly onto the second floor of his family home, the staff floor/ guest quarters. That specific creak had not been one of his.

Tension found its way beside him and snuggled up for warmth.

Looking around frantically, sure that perhaps someone had seen him descend from the staircase and was coming to stop him, Asterion panicked and hid behind the nearest abutment, peaking through the arch as the creaking grew louder.

Through the dimly lit halls faintly illuminated by wall mounted luminglow, Asterion spotted a adult Pegasus mare approaching. Mane a vibrant ash grey, eyes a pale ice blue, coat orange gamboge. The young adult mare who had her mane done in a bun was bereft of her uniform but wore the standard black and white collar that bore the heart-shaped insignia that all domestic workers of the house ought to wear. She trotted on and on, leaving the west wing belonging to guests and visitors and approaching the east, where the domestic workers stayed. Nearing the entrance hall where he hid himself.

Creak after terrible creak, oh how Asterion sometimes loathed the creaking, the mare grew nearer and nearer, her hoofsteps now clearly heard over the thin carpeting. Asterion slid deeper into the few shadows of his hiding spot, slowing his breathing as the maid suddenly stopped just at the entryway where he hid in the corner.

This was it. The game is over, Asterion thought. The worst thing of all was that he hadn't even made it to the kitchen this time and it seemed already, he was being thwarted! Oh, how he could curse the heavens, for it was no doubt his hoof poking out at just the right angle to be seen in this darn dim light. Miss Dusty would approach any second now with a cocky grin, knowing (wrongly) that he was stealing sweets once more (which for once he was not) and then send him back up the stairs, off to bed.

That is till she stopped and sneezed.

"Oh! Well, excuse me." Dusty sniffed...then sniffed again. Lifting a hoof up she dabbed at her nose once, twice, then wiped her hoof across her nostrils. "Augh", she scowled, wings out to enhance that look of disgust. "Ew...", she wiped her hoof across the carpeted floor then with a polite cough moved on, hoping that nopony had seen that. No doubt to retire for the evening.

Silent, thankful that the creaks had alerted him of Miss Dusty's presence at all Asterion sighed quietly then once he had glanced back to see the coast clear, approached the stairs and slid away.

Sadly, some steps still creaked in mocking even as he went.

Sometimes it was easy to forget just how old this place was.

Goodlove Manor was a gift, or to be more precise, a gift given to their family because no one else had really wanted a house belonging to what rumor or legend had it, were owned by a bunch of demon cultists. The land this manor had been built on and sat on was old as old as when King Zack, Princess Rashida's father's ancestors had established themselves as the head of the aristocracy The manor had been given to Chance Goodlove a long long time ago and had undergone multiple refurnishing and reconstruction as it had been passed down from family head to family head ever since ownership had been stripped from distant relatives and placed into the Goodlove family's hands some centuries ago.

With the Merrywills stripped of their noble status and banished for their crimes the Goodloves had been given their home instead as payment for helping put an end to the insubordination of the once powerful noble line. A history lesson he had been taught, but one he had never bothered to question.

Now that he thought about it, it was a little odd to be thinking about the Merrywill branch now of all times. They were a family that, as far as he knew, were first cousins, or something like that.

Actually were they first cousins? he paused. He shook his head, Family trees are weird.

The Merrywill Family were family he had never met. Family that had never gotten along well with his own ever since that quarrel all those centuries back. Then again there were other branches he had never met aside from them. Other family members that were often mentioned in passing whenever he overheard mother speak native on the phone.

Then again, he wouldn't want to meet a Merrywill. They were one reason the family image had taken a beating and whatever it was worth, a branch that he was certain Aldebaran would be disappointed in.

Now that he thought about it if he recalled correctly, the Merrywill family were originally the ones in charge of these regions. Barons of the land they were once upon a time, before they had been stripped of everything and cast out of Minos for their transgressions.

"The Merrywills were naughty", Asterion whispered absentmindedly as he made his way through the first floor, heading for the stairs at the end of the hall.

They upset the Crown and not just the Crown, they spooked the Royal Monarch, the Sun Demi of Equestria, Princess Celestia. Princess Celestia had not been pleased with the Merrywill family. A history lesson that, said something about the Princess of the Sun being able to sense the darkness within the Merrywill family and their hearts; their dark, sacrificing virgins and dipping their bread in the blood of their enemies, hearts.

He shivered. Certainly just legend.

The Solar Princess had been furious with the Betsy Merrywill, the head of the household and this had sparked suspicion with the nobles that had been invited leading to a debacle and eventual scanning of the manor.

Or at least that's what history said.

Mother said different.

Apparently, the Roys never knew anything about the Merrywill family's morbid religious actions. The day it had been discovered was the day the Merrywill family had hosted the Princess and (back then) the Roys (who were nothing more than rich wealth merchants, recently stepping into nobility in those times). The intent, according to history, had been to welcome the Sun Princess and the rest of nobility around Minos to a rousing feast over diplomatic discussions. Especially since the Merrywill family had finally wiped out recent competition in the form of Dingo travelling merchants in the area.

Things had gone along so well, at least till they hadn't and a servant Princess Celestia had brought with her had confessed of some rather disturbing sights they had seen in a warehouse some distance away.

And sure, technically speaking, the Sun Demi had no business prying in what another country's diplomats worshipped. Especially if she had been invited to engage in friendly conversation by said diplomats. Minos was a nation that welcomed multiple religions after all, ostracizing none, unlike the sphinx of the past that ruled them who ostracized all religions and taxed you to death if you weren't with them.

The nation was nothing like Equestria's sycophantic cozying up to the Royal Duo, in fact the Sun Demi and lost Lunar Demi were just that. To true Minosians the Royal Pony Sisters were demis, beings chosen by Solaris, the sun Spirit and Eclipta, the Lunar Spirit, to manage the functions of the cycle since the Age of Chaos had passed. The sisters or to be specific Celestia was respected and seen as a honored servant of the Solaris, one of the highest standard.

She was, however, not worshipped. Nor was she seen in the same high respect that Her Royal Highness' subjects seemed to hold of her in variations across city-states back on her own land. Most pony dominant lands seemed to disagree with this view point but well...oh well.

History says war was waged that day. That all nobles fled the home, tail between their legs upon charging down the warehouse, ignoring the protests of Besty Merrywill, her sons, and their servants. Once the truth had been discovered most of the aristocracy had leapt into the air, jumping onto the chariots they had came with and returning to their lands. Had the Merrywill family been weaker, defeating them would have been easy.

The problem was one couldn't because they owned the most land back then. Therefore they had the most control in resources. This discovery of their dark abode, should have ruined them, but the Merrywill were smart. Instead, both the Sun Demi and various nobles lit the match for battle. The Bloody Executions Over Murdock Castle those battles were known.

Mother had insisted that a bloody battle did occur that night-- however it was not after the truth had been discovered but during. Only half those that joined the initial merry welcoming of the Sun Demi to the region made it out alive.

The Goodloves, being family, and lowly bodyguards to the Roy family, ultimately ended up being the ones to handle the issue when everything went peachy. When all was said and done, the Merrywill family had been judged, punished like the misbehaving calfs they were being, and then shipped off to some distant land in Zebrica or Thestralia. The details were not clear where.

What was clear is that misbehaving young ones had to be punished if they continued to misbehave and wouldn't listen to reason.

Asterion hoped that mother and Madame Early would understand he simply had trouble sleeping if by chance, one of them happened to find him down here.

Stumbling into the large entrance hall, heading towards the kitchen, Asterion flicked a switch and on the lights came. He looked around the large room, searching for something then found it. Moving forwards he grabbed a stool and with a huff lifted it up to act as a stepping ladder. With another huff, he stepped up and reached for one of the cupboards, grabbed the glass, and hoped down, careful not to make too much noise.

Fetching his water from the tap he finished it with one long gulp, rinsed his cup and returned the glass.

It wasn't even the big day yet here he was, nerves a mess. He looked towards the bird themed clock that sat on the checkered wall to his right. Three more hours, he frowned and let out a small quiet groan. The day could not end soon enough. Picking his stool back up Asterion returned it to its rightful place.

Listening to the tick-tock of the clock the young calf fretted on what to do next. Drinking that cup of cold water had not helped in the slightest. In fact, he felt sleep even further from his grasp.

Why am I so nervous Asterion wondered. He was excited, happy, but also...a tad scared. Turning 12 is such a big deal.

The biggest deal of all one might say. Other nations celebrated turning 18 or 25 or had religious customs for the celebration of younger ages, Minos however had this. This sacred custom that tied them to their ancestors from before the Age of Chaos and Pre-Sphinx rule.

At school, in Marvin's Academy, there were so many that he would hear talk about their big day or reminisce when it was some younger colt or filly, cock or hen, dragon or some calf's big day. It often seemed a bit weird in all honesty. The kind of excitement he noticed others slightly older than him would have about their big day, whether it had past, was upcoming, or like him, was to happen in the next couple minutes always seemed just a bit off when he looked at his own family.

And maybe, that was why he was nervous. Because the big day was coming. And as was the Goodlove family tradition no one breathed or hinted at a word of what type of Lesson, what kind of Challenge he was going to face when all the merriment was said and done. No one ever talked about the Lesson or Challenge, the tutelage that was normal for every young one's Coming of Age.

He had friends that were a few months older than him. Friends who said different than what his family did.

It was normal to leave hints or clues to the challenge one must face. Required even, some had said.

But no, not a word had been made about his own. Just when he thought he might learn something, there seemed to be nothing.

The Rite of Adolescence, the Lesson of Time or as others might call it: the Challenge of Passage, was a carefully crafted test that the elders of one's family would oversee. Even now as he threw glances at the clock, he knew relatives like his aunty, cousins, and grandmother were here. All of them to witness him take the test.

Failure was virtually impossible, the test was designed to teach a lesson. To show you the importance of responsibility as it fell on all adult shoulders when they entered the socioeconomic mess that is adult life.

Whether it was braving the darkness of the night alone for the first time ever to buy something for the family with a sum of money clearly more than needed; indulging in the alcoholic beverage for the first time and waking up with a splitting headache and nausea to learn the consequences of intoxication; being jumped by hired friends of the family to give you a good scare and make you think on how to handle yourself in a fight-- the test was designed to teach.

Perhaps it was because he wasn't sure what he would be taught.

The Lesson was just as important as the celebration and the honor. So it was strange to Asterion that his friends were given hints or clues at what they might face, while he was left to wonder. Though, then again, it was probably just as strange to them as it was to him.

"8:50 p.m." the clock read. Sighing he made his way out of the kitchen and into the living room. Nobility may have enjoyed luxurious furnishing but mother was not the kind to gloat. The living room was simple, a fire place with dying embers no doubt from whoever had been down earlier to ensure everything was in order before lights out. A warm light brown decorated the walls in a similar checkered pattern with varying hues for every square. Plain dark red rugs lay against the light blue floor, and seats were strewn everywhere across the large living room with the bookshelf in one corner, the fish tank in another.

"Hello Reese." Asterion said to the tundral fish as it swam in circles and did a flip upon his entry. "Can't sleep either hm?"

Reese did not reply, but he did gobble up the salt that Asterion sprinkled into the tank.

Turning towards the nearest couch Asterion hopped up, wincing when he sat. "Oh..." he stared at the long, slim brown and black tail with the reddish tip that waved at him from under his legs. "Sorry." He smiled sheepishly, and oddly enough his tail wagged in response.

Closing his eyes and squeezing them tight, Asterion did that thing his mother taught him to do. That thing that made him just like every other minotaur. He focused his will, concentrated the ambient energy on his tail, and gave it one command.

Blend.

And when he opened his eyes, his tail was gone. Gone, but still there if he focused and flexed the muscles that gave it movement.

That was another thing about normal Minotaurs, Asterion thought. Two things actually.

Minotaurs couldn't manipulate magic. In fact very few species across the world, according to his unicorn tutor Complex Theory, couldn't manipulate magic naturally. Artificially, it required the right elements be brought together.

Still wouldn't compare to a unicorn though. Or a deer.

This was why arcanotech was where Minos thrived more than anywhere in the world.

Artificially? Any creature with the right materials and knowledge could craft a wand or a thauma manipulation device (TMD), though it would take a certain level of understanding magic theory before it could be used effectively.

Most creatures didn't bother with the artificial route. Learning magic took time and effort. Why spend Moons learning magic when you could just do something else just as effective, like say, buy a gun?

Besides it was precisely because one couldn't manipulate magic like unicorns, deer or the odd sort-- them, could. It was not a part of their anatomy, so it did not come as easy. Not that learning magic himself had been easy.

It was just that there was no biological factor that granted the same access a unicorn could have to magic for most creatures or whatever it was that deer or they did to manipulate thauma particles.

So what was the point? Why learn the complexities of runes unless you wanted to be a runecrafter? Why bother with a wand or a spell-shard (magic infused gem), when you now had to study the means of synching it to yourself on top of learning magic theory if you didn't know how to synch it to yourself automatically upon use.

Minotaurs especially fell under this category like many other creatures. At least the normal ones did.

The question of why a Unicorn horn could tap into magic but other horned beings couldn't when the fabled Tirek (a centaur who was depicted having horns) among other creatures, had been asked for centuries. Researchers said it had something to do with the grooves of a unicorn's horn. A minotaur, buffalo, a goat, a elephant; their horns were just horns. There was no mana-neuro system connecting it to the body that tapped into ambient magic and conducted it into the complex nature of spell-algorithms like a maestro in a band of musicians.

Their horns were just horns.

Just like his stubby little pointers were just regular horns.

But his body, his being, his essence, his very existence it was something else entirely.

Asterion flexed his tail and felt it move, passing through the couch easily as if it weren't there.

He wasn't normal. None of the Cupid branches were. That had been made clear since birth. There was a reason the Goodlove family (and the other branches he believed) hired private, personal doctors.

Looking behind him, his now invisible tail phased through couch, damaging nothing.

And there was another thing.

"Minotaurs don't have tails either."