Author's Note
"Despite the words that they throw, you are my special!"
Now, this story is not going to be long or supposed to be long like my other ones.
The most you'll ever get is either five or six chapters. No matter what issue I face in my life, I'll try my best to finish it.
Janus Mallory
The most beneficial thing about being a scholar at the magic academy was that Janus was expected to commence important tasks, such as tracking down a magical thief, creating new spells or making them, and guarding the princess with her life. Tasks too mundane were not her thing at all.
To become a scholar wasn’t a difficult task at all–it was the importance of the job itself that pushed the average pony away. However, for ponies like Janus, it only pushed her to be one even further. She was a young pony of eighteen–the exact age needed to be accepted into the magical academy.
Her hair–often known as “candy-cane” hair, was, of course, colored in the fashion of a candy-cane. Short, but very smooth. Not on this day, however, as due to waking up late, her hair was very frizzy.
The coat of her fur was white–added on to her Christmas-like feel. If that wasn't enough, her eyes were a shimmering light green, and today, she wore a black coat.
Today, she would be interviewed by the higher ups–otherwise known as the highlords, in order to be accepted within the academy of magic. She sighed at the thought of doing so as she looked out the window of the train–the great city of Equestria in sight.
Here, the very essence of magic shimmered in every place, grand edifices and majestic bridges soared skyward, crafted from resplendent gold-infused bricks that glimmered like the dawn. These towering structures gleamed with an ethereal light, reflecting the vibrant hues of the sky, while the Pegasi, with their wings unfurled in a breathtaking display, danced through the heavens.
They descended like living arrows, delivering missives to homes nestled among the clouds and valleys below, their laughter echoing like the chiming of distant bells.
There was also a network of enchanted trains woven through the skies and valleys. Each train, crafted from shimmering metals and adorned with glowing runes, gilded silently on tracks of starlight. The locomotives were powered by captured breezes and old, magical crystals.
Passengers traveled in comfort–Janus being one of them, each cabin offering views of the breathtaking glimpse of the cities greatest and tallest buildings.
The system connected distant kingdoms, facilitating trade and adventure across the enchanted lands.
On the earth, the Earth Ponies toiled with a steadfast spirit, their muscles honed from years of labor as they navigated the bustling marketplace. They maneuvered wagons brimming with shimmering potions, the essence of nature’s bounty, destined for the enchanted halls of the Unicorns.
These noble Unicorns–oh, how Janus adored them. They wove spells of light and power, their horns aglow with a vibrant energy. They levitated treasures with effortless ease, their magical practices a dance of artistry and knowledge, as they conjured forth the magic deep within them. As the train began to slow down as they arrived at a stop, Janus noticed a particular group of Unicorns performing in the streets not too far away.
Janus knew who they were. Anyone could tell from the black robes they wore, which had red patterns all over them–the blackfire Unicorns.
It seemed that today, they were performing for a crowd. A short one at that.
As they begun performing their chants, stomp their hooves–a great, magical aura filled their horns, and soon enough, a beam of colors were sent into the air–swirling around each other like a perfect dance before eventually colliding with one another and creating a great magical explosion with many colors in the air.
The ponies observing relished with joy. The loud cheering and the clapping of their hooves showed that very clearly, and even though Janus sat on the train, she could feel a course of excitement rush through her entire body. It took all of her strength to hold herself back from screaming. All she could do was smile.
Magic is amazing, she thought.
She always thought that. Even today when she had woken up late–frantically brushing her hair, then eating breakfast, and then immediately missing the bus–all that filled her mind was magic.
“Ha,” her smile grew wider, “It's a funny thought, knowing I'll be better than all of em–every single one.”
The train would continue moving, Janus still amazed.
Only a few stops before she arrived at the magical academy. She couldn’t contain herself. To imagine the things she would and could learn at the magical academy was simply too much–she needed something to kill the time and get her mind off it, but what could?
Well, there was a book in her bag–an artbook, and a pen of purple to go along with it.
She could only wonder why she hadn’t brung it out or even thought about doing so.
It was the perfect way to pass the time.
The enchanted artbook glowed softly, its surface shimmering with swirling colors. Artists had once tapped into its mystical powers, conjuring breathtaking landscapes and mythical creatures with a mere stroke of their pens with the help. Each creation seemed to come alive. At least, that’s what it seemed to Janus.
No thoughts scrambled in her head–the flow of the art consumed her, becoming one with her soul. With each line and stroke, a thought was beginning to form… but she could not tell what it was–not yet, as whatever was on that table was not clear enough.
One stroke.
Then another…
Then another…
And a thought finally came.
When she was a filly, she found the concept of an adventure so intriguing–No, just fantasy in general.
The thrill of imaging it. Imagining herself in it. The joy that brought her was so vast.
She prevented herself from chuckling as the image became more clearer and near completion.
After five minutes, it was finished.
The art depicted herself fighting off a ferocious black dragon with a great, magical sword that glowed with a yellow light.
“Hahaha!” The speech bubble above herself read.
Reading this, Janus could no longer hold back her giggle; she took the time to admire the drawing
“Wow wow, what a drawing.”
“Hah. Thanks.” Janus replied, completely oblivious to the voices
Her head snapped up upon hearing that tired, downright emotionless accent, and she looked to her left There–a mare sat beside her. Her coat was simply a divine, blackish purple. Meanwhile, her long, flowing mane was hot purple, and her eyes were an emerald green.
It was strange… was she sitting beside her the whole time? No, that couldn’t have been true. If she was, Janus definitely would’ve noticed. Either way, she greeted her.
“Um, hello there?” She asked, nervously. “The name's Janus, what about you–oh yeah, and how long have you been sitting there? I didn't even notice you!”
The girl smiled, “I came from the very back on the opposite side. My bad.” She said, “I sensed a chant, and well, your reaction confirmed such, so here I am–by your side. I'm glad I did, it seems I've met another soul who shares my dream.”
“Huh?”
Such a bold and strange announcement, all Janus could do was stare at her in confusion.
“Um, cool.” She said, digging deep into her brain to find the words to continue this conversation–one that she wasn't sure that she herself wanted. “Soooo, what's your name?”
“Desdemona.” She claimed with an emotionless smile.
Janus didn't know it, but she had just met one of her future classmates.
“Desmonda, got it.”
Janus simply nodded, but couldn't find a response to follow up. After all, ever since she was a child, she hadn't been particularly good at sparking a conversation with others.
“So… you enjoyed that show, eh?” Janus said, forcing herself to sound bold.
Desmonda simply nodded, “It was quite the work of art.” She said, “Speaking of art, what is that you're drawing? It looks interesting.”
Janus only blushed. “Oh this?” She asked, bringing the tablet to Desmonda's attention, “Just a stupid doodle, nothing more. Was gettin’ bored, so I just went for it. Ha.”
Janus paid no mind to Desmonda's face. She had already assumed what it would look like–what everypony looked like when they witnessed her foolish drawings.
Back home, years ago, she would often show her drawings to her classmates. They were far less detailed than what she drew now, but still creative in her eyes. Not in the eyes of others, however. The ponies would often make fun of her art. Claiming that they were too sloppy.
But that's what made her special.
At least, her father always saw that. He bore the name of “Prosper Frost,” due to his white colored fur, and light blue mane.
There was a memory from three years ago of him that she always kept deep within her heart. They lived in a small village known as The village of impurity, which had long been shrouded in mystery and whispered tales, welcomed her with the familiar scent of damp earth and wildflowers. The village, nestled between the everfree forest and a meandering river, separating it from Ponyville.
They lived within a wooden house near the river. It contained cobblestone on the sides, and small windows in the front. The chimney was also made of cobblestone. The floors inside were of course, wooden
Today, it was quite peaceful.
“These are impressive, Janus.” Prosper exclaimed, smiling hard while looking over her endearing sketches.
“Impressive? No way.” A young Janus rejected, shaking her head. “The anatomy is way too off. How could you like something like this?”
“Why?” Her father looked at her with widened eyes. “It has a ton of heart put into it… That's the point of art, correct?”
“I guess so, but nobody seems to understand that.” Janus said, looking down. “Every time I show these drawings to shame it and claim that they're awful. It's happened so many times that I, myself, even think the same.”
“Simply pay no attention to ‘em.” Prosper said, “Back in my day, I usually just-”
“The old days are no more, dad. You know that.” Janus spat back.
Prosper only chuckled, “Yeah yeah, that is true.” He then took a deep breath. “Alright… how would the new generation deal with something like this?”
Before he could even think of an answer, his wife called from the kitchen.
“You can’t just leave your food out like this! It’ll grow cold!”
Janus merely sighed, “I can clean that up for ya.”
“No, no, don’t worry about it. It’s my mess, after all.” Prosper said, exiting out of the room.
Motivated today, huh?
Usually, she’d be the one cleaning up his mess or recovering the items he needed for work.
Such was a surprise.
As she sat there, waiting for him to come back, she’d overhear their conversation. It did not sound mundane like the task at hand suggested, but about something from the past…
She couldn’t completely make out what they were saying, but she knew with those words…
It was a dark topic.
Janus was aware of the mysteriousness of her father’s wealth. It was something that used to be quite big for centuries. However, it did not seem to be the same for this century. The debt their family was in now was egregious, and it was only going to get worse within a year.
Her father used magic, which violated the law of “Magic can only be used by higher authority.”
That higher authority no longer belonged to their family. Years ago, their family were full of wizards–those who use magic for ceremonial purposes and war.
Suddenly, before she could process what they were speaking about, the voices stopped, and her dad emerged from the kitchen, his eyes tired.
“Father?” Janus looked up, meeting her father's eyes. “What was that about?”
Strangely enough, her father stayed silent for a moment, his eyes meeting the floor. “Worry not.” He said, “It was nothing.” He then sat back down where he was previously, forcefully putting on a smile as he stared at Janus.
“So, I think I have an answer.”
Janus's eyes were filled with interest.
“Please, do tell, father.”
“Well, if there's one thing we don't understand… It's magic. It's completely impossible to understand by itself,” he said, “but, the purpose of us wielding it is to use it in a way that's understandable to us. Whether it'd be war or just drawing.”
The word “war” ignited her interest.
“Speaking of such, father,” her voice was soft, “Your view of magic… what is it?”
“Whatever satisfies me is magic nowadays.”
He chuckled, unaware of the dark question.
“Would it be right to use it to kill someone if you see fit.”
Janus looked deeply into his eyes. They were wide, as if he was recalling a past event.
Such made her heart drop.
Without warning, his face was….back to normal? But that couldn't be. No pony could change facial expressions that fast.
“It would be right to use it in a way that hurts no one.” He said, his voice full of shame. “How do you use magic, dear?”
“Well, um,” still recovering from that look, she puts on a smile. “Art, of course.”
“Then that is all you need to hold onto. No matter what.” Her father assured with a smile. “That is your magic, so don't let ponies go around and tell you otherwise, okay?”
Janus smiled, a weight seemingly pulled off her chest.
“Of course, father.”
Now, here she was, expecting that same misunderstanding…
However…
“Ah, what imaginative art… have you ever considered being an artist?”
Desmonda's face was full of glee.
Author's Note
Should a story exist if flaws are present? I've always wondered
