Arcanum Sombran

Special mention must be made of the spells made for dueling. Modern magical duels, as most unicorns know, consist primarily of contests of skill; direct combat is unheard of, and even shows of force are rare. Most modern duels are primarily centered around alteration and transformation, as established by Marlin the Blue in the year 600 Anno Luna (literally "after moon", or after Luna's banishment).

The spells contained under the 'dueling' chapter of Arcanum Sombran are not made for such contests. They would, in the modern parlance, be called 'self-defense' spells. Umber would hardly consider them 'defense' at all, unless you consider a gout of unholy flame part of a good defense.

Of particular note is the spells created for horn-to-horn combat. Such fights were rare even before Marlin codified the modern duelist's rules, and were really only conducted within Unicorn high society. Rooted in the ancient, pre-Hearth times, such duels took place entirely within the minds of the duelists--a direct contest of wills, where one's blade is wrought from one's thoughts. Umber could not contain his excitement, despite himself; the magics contained in this subsection were easily dangerous if practiced against another mage, but he could prepare and cast them without an opponent. Finally, something to get his teeth into.

He laid the book on his desk, and used a paperweight to hold it on the key page of the spell. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and slowly--carefully--charged his horn...

"Hello there."

Umber opened his eyes. The office was gone; in its place were crystalline walls, at once perfectly dark and perfectly clear. Before him, there was an amorphous form--blacker than black, it crackled with purples and greens. It had not yet taken shape, did not yet have a mouth, and yet it was talking to him.

"...Well? You ain't mute, are ya?" It jiggled vaguely.

"No, no. I'm just--surprised. That's all." Umber stood up--he didn't remember sitting down. "Where is this? My mind?"

"Yep. A special little place in your head, that you just made."

"And you are?"

"Hey, I'm not done yet. You didn't finish making me." It jiggled again. "You've gotta figure the details out yourself."

"Hm." Umber tapped his chin. "I may be a bit. Names never came easily to me."

"What about 'Faust'?" the figure suggested.

"Faust? What kind of name is that?"

"An old classic. Never mind me."

"Any other suggestions?" Umber scowled, and the figure jiggled again, laughing.

"Hohohoh, man. We're gonna get along just fine. How about Doppel?"

"Doppel...Doppel...yes, that works. Very well, Doppel. What form would you like?"

"I rather like yours." Before Umber's eyes, the figure shifted and flashed--until it became a mirror of himself! Doppel's eyes flashed green, and in place of his cutie mark was an angry purple gash, like an open wound. "Don't you worry--I'm not gonna hurt ya. In fact, I can answer some of your questions, if you like..."

"How's it comin' along?" the mare said. Copper. Yes, her name was Copper. Copper Sunrise.

"Decently," Umber muttered, scooping up a forkful of salad. You look nice today. Umber cursed under his breath--Doppel needed to learn its place. Flirting was off the table. Just looking out for your best interests, boss, it hummed as it scurried into the back of his mind.

"Something bothering ya?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"All right, then. You get to anything interesting yet?" She scooted up next to him, and he scooted a little further away.

"Nothing too important," he said. "Just some old dueling techniques. Nothing I can apply safely."

"Maybe you could take it to the gym? There's a self-defense teacher who runs a class there, I bet he'd let you borrow some equipment. He might even let you do demonstrations!"

"I don't want to do demonstrations," he said through gritted teeth. "But a practice dummy or two would be nice."

"There ya go."

Umber paced in his office, mumbling under his breath. Doppel had leapt out of his head and into his vision--sitting idly on the windowsill, kicking his hooves.

"Are you some sort of spirit?" Umber took a seat in his comfiest (read: only) office chair, and steepled his hooves.

"Relax, boss. I can't manifest physically. I'm all in your head!"

"Fantastic," Umber growled. "And I'm stuck with you?"

"There's a banishment spell, but I ain't tellin' you where it is."

"Of course you won't."

"What did you expect? Rule number one, Umber. Always look out for Number One. That's yourself, in case ya didn't know."

"Such a helpful creature."

"Hey, I can be helpful. You hardly need to maintain me at all, right?"

Umber frowned. It was true--he hadn't felt the drain on his will that most psychic manifestations required. "Right," he conceded.

"So if you ever get into a horn duel, you'll have me backin' you up. That's what the spell was for, right? If I can't even do that, then I'd get banished as soon as I show up."

"...you have a point. Unfortunately, horn duels are no longer legal."

"What? What about trial by combat?"

"Outlawed within the first year of the Sisters' reign."

"Don't tell me you don't even have to fight bandits..."

"In what world would I have to fight bandits?"

"This is Canterlot, right?"

"Yes. Canterlot, capital of Equestria, under the rule of her majesties Celestia and Luna--"

"Wait, wait. Equestria? What year is it?"

"1002 AL."

"Ayy Ell?"

Umber rolled his eyes. "One thousand and two years after Luna's banishment to the Moon."

"You're tellin' me that the little pipsqueak got herself banished?"

"She got better," Umber said with a shrug.

"Night's embrace, buddy. I thought you'd be the one with all the questions."