The floor was unnaturally appealing to Starlight’s eyes. At least, it seemed far more inviting compared to the unimpressed faces of the guards standing around in his suite. But even these intimidating figures, clad in shining pieces of armor and bearing razor-sharp gazes, were the preferred alternatives at which to bashfully stare when compared to the stone-cold countenance of Professor Yorsets.

“What is going on here?” asked the teacher, his tone nothing but cross. Starlight continued his stare at the floor in reply. Yorsets growled, “Mister Hooves. I have asked you a question.”

Starlight let his words spill. “I-I tried the indirect fabrication spell.”

“To create fire? Inside?” Yorsets scorned. “Alone?”

Starlight closed his eyes and nodded slowly. His teacher began to pace about as he did in class, though there were no desks to guide his every step. Even so his strides came one after the other, purposeful and strong as his following instructions.

“Guards, you may return to your posts,” Yorsets ordered. His command was swiftly followed, leaving just the two students and professor in the common room. “I want you to think through this situation thoroughly, Mister Hooves,” Professor Yorsets proposed as he looked at the bucked-open window, and then at Seven Seas. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to help ‘im,” said Seven Seas. “Helped clear the smoke and put out the fire, sir.”

Yorsets stared at the blue stallion, from eye-patch to unkempt hoof, with curiosity. “Are you... a pirate?”

“Arr, just a regular sailor,” Seven Seas uttered. “Came on account of me fam’ly. Learn from the great princess Luna. Li’l cousin says she’s his favorite princess-”

“Yes, that’s all good,” Professor Yorsets broke in. “Mister Hooves. From what I can collect, you started a fire for a reason not yet known to me, and in addition you have completely damaged your room and even parts of the lounge in the process. Though it seems none were gravely injured, this could have easily been a life-threatening situation. Do you understand?”

Starlight could indeed understand, but failed to find the nerve to even move a muscle in response. He felt like an ignorant colt belittled by a simplified lecture on right and wrong.

His teacher continued, “The question, then, is this: what in all of Equestria made you do this? What possessed you to think that lighting a fire indoors was a good idea?”

The young stallion couldn’t take it any longer. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go!”

Professor Yorsets, taken aback, stopped his pacing and stared long and hard into his student's green eyes.

“Repeat what you have just said.”

Starlight, realizing his outburst, collected himself again and timidly repeated, “I-I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Yorsets narrowed his eyes. “Explain yourself.”

Starlight, covered in smokey ash, shook his head slowly as black powder fell from his head. “You saw how I failed the exercise in class this morning. I couldn't even start a simple fire.”

Professor Yorsets stepped closer with a gaze quite speculative, but also curious. “You had the first step done with creating sufficient materials. If you were stuck, why did you not simply ask for assistance?”

Starlight nervously answered, “You said we couldn't talk at all.”

“My instructions were that students may not talk to one another until a flame was started,” the teacher corrected. “It seems that there has been some miscommunication; my intentions were to assure that students would not distract one another, for fire is a dangerous thing. Would you not agree?”

Starlight stared at the ground again. “Y-Yes, professor.”

Yorsets watched his student’s eyes fall to the floor as Starlight’s escaped spirits left him looking nearly dead. “There seems to be something else that is the matter, judging by your general melancholia. If you do not mind sharing, I would like to hear what else is on your mind.”

The young stallion felt he had his chance. Starlight didn’t know how, but it seemed as though Yorsets was poking and analyzing his very being. There was no use in hiding behind a facade as the student had done for so many years.

“I've never had a good first day of classes,” Starlight sniveled. “I-I always make some dumb mistakes when I introduce myself or have to go through some introductory exercise. I just get so nervous since it happens every year, and I feel like I can't help it. My image is always screwed up somehow, and I feel like I can't do anything about it because no pony understands, and trying to explain it all just makes it WORSE!”

The young unicorn finished with breaths cutting short, but his heart and mind felt mysteriously at ease. For some time Starlight stood exhaling the frustration, until suddenly realizing what had escaped his lips. Though it felt refreshing as a morning breeze Starlight looked to his professor with fear.

The professor took in a deep breath himself as he approached his student. “Starlight Hooves, what happened in class earlier today must indeed have been rather hard, especially on your first day.”

That's an understatement.

Professor Yorsets continued, “But bear this in mind: your image is not determined by what others think of you, Mister Hooves, but rather how you see yourself.” Starlight's eyes slowly shifted from the floor up to meet the gold and blue mix in his professor's. The authoritative perception suddenly fell behind one more compassionate. “The struggle you have is not with the class, or your classmates. It’s with yourself. Tell me, how tired do you feel?”

Starlight thought through the various parts of his body. Everything felt as though he had gone for a few miles' run without stop. He replied, “Exhausted. I’ve been casting way too much magic for one day.”

“Casting is almost completely a physical tiredness,” Professor Yorsets said. “Undoubtedly you feel more tired than in past first days, am I correct?” Starlight nodded. “That is from a battle inside of you. Tell me, what is it that you're fighting?”

Fear.

The answer echoed in his head. Before it could reach his mouth, though, Professor Yorsets turned to Seven Seas, who had been listening intently the entire time.

“What do you have to say?” Professor Yorsets inquired.

Seven Seas shied away and laughed nervously, “Who, me? Arr, I can't add too much meself, but it seems more o' an inner skirmish, one side o’ me versus the other... I had me own aches today.”

“Indeed, I believe Professor Marie was speaking of you at lunchtime,” said Yorsets. “I want you both to heed a simple piece of advice that has been down for many years: if at first you don't succeed, try, try again.” He glanced at the smoked bedroom door and the black stains on the wall and floor within. “But be sure to do so with caution. Mister Hooves, will you be able to fix all of this damage?”

Starlight chuckled nervously. “I know some restoration spells that should clean things up pretty well.”

“Good,” Professor Yorsets said as he turned and headed for the suite exit. “I shall request new sheets and furniture be sent right away, and we shall call this all an accident. Should you be caught practicing fire spells inside the dormitory again, though, there shall be dire consequences. Is that clear, Mister Hooves?”

Starlight nodded as he and Seven Seas watched the professor briskly turn to leave. But before Yorsets could make a full exit, Starlight stopped him.

“Professor Yorsets, wait!” the student called as he ran after his teacher. “I have one request.” Professor Yorsets turned, his gold and blue eyes locking with his student’s. Starlight, despite being met with the intimidating stare, took a big inhalation and took a strong step forward. He refused to back away in the slightest. “I request to meet with you and practice the indirect fabrication spell. Properly.”

His teacher chuckled. “I shall grant your request, Mister Hooves. After our afternoon lectures for the rest of this week we shall practice various forms. This shall disqualify you from the end of the week test for lighting the fireworks at the Winter Solstice celebration, though. Does this seem fair to you?”

Starlight gave a ready grin. “Yes, professor. It does.”

---

Next thing Starlight knew, the end of the week arrived. He sat in class surrounded by his peers, sitting once more in the back corner - a challenge the unicorn gave himself to face his fears. Though the week had flown by faster than a Wonderbolt derby, so much had changed; at least, things felt different. Starlight played his professor’s message in his mind time and time again until the advice was imprinted on his brain memory.

It’s all about confidence.

But as he sat in the back corner, Starlight could feel his senses tingling. A blend of worry and excitement created a most dizzying mind game. One moment he held within him the faith to light the sun itself. The next instant he was wondering if he could ever safely hold a simple matchbox again. The battle of sentiment seemed impossible to cease.

He watched as Professor Yorsets patiently stood at the front of the classroom with set eyes and a concentrated frown. The gaze was of such seriousness Starlight felt his stomach churn; he had not seen such an expression in his practice sessions. The student had witnessed a number of reactions to his successes and failures, but never as somber like the one he perceived then. The bells rang to signal the start of class.

“As discussed at the beginning of the week,” Yorsets began without any delay, “today is your indirect fabrication exam. You all shall have a set time limit on starting a fire using only light magic. Remember that it is only the most creative demonstration that shall be awarded. The winner shall partake in lighting the Winter Solstice fireworks tomorrow. Have I made myself clear?”

Every student nodded his or her head, including Starlight. Especially Starlight.

“We shall go across the rows, one by one,” the teacher stated. “And we shall begin with...” He scanned over the classroom, his eyes meeting those of Starlight's for a frightening split second, but then settling on one of the unicorns in front. “Miss Moondancer. Show us what you have.”

Starlight felt himself shaking. He murmured to himself, “Why am I always last?”

Practice had allowed him to consider several means by which to start a fire with the specific spell. Starlight had been reviewing everything about a flame's properties and dynamics throughout the week, even more so in depth than the class ever went. He knew the ins and outs of fire, what made it burn and what put it out. With the demonstrations having begun, however, Starlight felt his fiery memory suddenly smothered.

He watched as every single manner of building a fire was utilized student by student. Rubbing sticks, striking flint, even matches for the lazy were used. Magnifying glasses and sparks from electricity lit students’ remarkable displays. As fires were lit Starlight couldn’t spy a single face that lit up more than he felt his did at the thought of starting off the Winter Solstice celebration. However, his current expression did not show this as his ears slowly retreated and his mouth drooped until no longer forming a smile.

While passing through the final rows, some students could no longer devise new manners in which to start their flames. Some went with quirky reenactments of former techniques. Starlight felt the urge to give in as they did, but each time the thought entered his brain he quickly scolded himself. He had not practiced for nothing.

It was finally Starlight’s turn. All eyes fell on him as he clumsily rose from his seat and stared at the clean desk before him. A place mat hovered over in his direction and centered on the dark wooden surface.

“Our last demonstration for the day now, students. Please continue to give your fullest attention. Mister Hooves, you may proceed,” said Professor Yorsets.

Once again techniques wheeled through Starlight’s head like hues on a rainbow-colored roulette machine. Each spin, however, landed on a color already selected before by his peers, leaving Starlight spinning the mental machine over and over. No matter how many attempts the thought that popped into the stallion’s head had already been used. Starlight swallowed hard and looked up at his peers, faking a smile symbolic of preparation.

Apprehension slowly snuck into his system as he debated trying his back-up plan, one he had never tried it before. It wasn’t much of a back-up plan, really; Starlight considered it more of a concept. When the stares of his peers began to grow cold, Starlight let anxiety light the fire inside. Cogs inside the stallion's head spun faster than ever before as the mechanics of Starlight’s body followed in perfect motion. The onlookers’ stares faded in the backdrop as the young stallion went to work on his creation.

I've got nothing to lose!

In a flash Starlight fabricated a piece of paper, a couple of paints, and a brush, all of which set down on his desk in an orderly fashion. He opened his eyes, looked over his materials, and nodded in approval. He then lifted the brush and swirled shades of red and orange, mixing their tones into a dusk-colored sphere centered on the piece of paper.

Whispers began to flow around like tiny breezes through the field of students. Conditioned to block it all out, Starlight's ears did not lead the unicorn’s focus astray.

Upon finishing his art Starlight lifted his painting into the air. Murmurs continued to flow in waves as stares of perplexity ensued. The artist, not yet finished, stared at his work with caution until he closed his eyes and clenched his teeth tightly. His horn glowed a deep violet, tinted like the midnight sky, and his paper soon was surrounded by a similar rich color.

But his paper did not remain a shade of purple for long, for the purple faded away until the paper hung suspended in the air with no visible grip holding it up. Suddenly, the red and orange drawing came to life on the paper, sparking and spitting as though the flame of a torch. The paint strokes flowed from bottom to top, rising and thinning out into curling tips like a real fire.

The class gasped in amazement.

Professor Yorsets interrupted their drawn-in breaths, “Mister Starlight, though you are in fact using fabricated materials, this specific test requires that an actual fire be made-”

Just then the drawing burst from the surface of the paper, transforming from a flat circle into a ball of red and orange. The remaining white of the paper crumbled as the ball of fire began to glow a brilliant gold. Soon there was no paper floating about over the desk, but rather a shining golden orb that made those nearest squint at its sight. Even Yorsets from the front of the class watched with narrowed eyes.

After nearly a minute of silence the shining sphere dissipated, as did the rest of his created materials. Not a trace of the flaxen fire’s existence remained, not even an ounce of ash. All that Starlight could see when he opened his eyes were everypony’s eyes opened wide and jaws reaching the floor. Starlight stared back at each of his peers as his face started to turn red.

“D-Did it work?” he asked.

“What was that?” one of his peers asked.

Starlight looked about his empty desk. “I-I used the indirect fabrication spell to create helium and hydrogen. The combination should have consumed the piece of paper to prove its properties-”

“Hydrogen and helium?” Twilight chimed in.

“Y-Yes,” Starlight said. “I created an invisible magic barrier to contain the reactions first. It took a lot of energy, so I couldn’t hold the flame for very long...”

Professor Yorsets lifted an eyebrow, “Flame? Those elements make a star, Mister Hooves!”

The classroom burst with chatter. Starlight couldn’t tell whether they were remarks of ridicule or praise. At the moment, however, he wasn’t paying much attention to the matter; he was too baffled that his untested notion had seemingly worked.

“Though I admit your knowledge and creativity have exceeded my expectations,” Yorsets stated, “I’m afraid that, as discussed at the beginning of this week, you cannot claim the prize due to private lessons on the usage of indirect fabrication spells.” More clamorous prattling filled the room, until Yorsets raised his voice, “THEREFORE, I am happy to announce that the most creative display today was Miss Sparkle’s exposition with the three magnifying glasses.”

All small talk ceased as everypony’s eyes fell on the mare. Twilight blushed and stood at her desk. “I really am grateful, professor... but I think Starlight deserves the honor for lighting the fireworks this weekend.”

The professor nodded and smiled, “Yes yes, good-” His face suddenly contorted. “W-Wait, what did you say!?”

“I believe Starlight deserves the reward,” Twilight stated without faltering. “He did come up with the most creative solution to your challenge.”

“B-But it had to be a flame, and it had to be with indirect fabrication! In addition there are other circumstances-” Yorsets paused and stretched his neck to compose himself. “Miss Sparkle, if you would please just accept this reward for your creative genius-”

“I see nothing wrong with Starlight’s thinking,” Lyra interrupted gracefully. “He did burn the paper to show that it was the equivalent of a flame.”

Others in the class started to voice their agreement, until Yorsets was backed up against the wall behind his podium in shock. He looked Starlight in the eyes; for the first time, the student felt his gaze as the more powerful.

“V-Very well,” the teacher said, laying down his argument. “If you all insist.” He threw Starlight a smart but compliant grin. “Then I pronounce Mister Hooves the winner of this contest. Congratulations.”

---

When Starlight promenaded out into the foyer everything seemed wonderfully brighter than usual. The sun glowed especially radiant, filling in the deep chasms of dark walls and flooring like water, until every tile glimmered like shallow pools of violent and blue. Every window looked more like a panel of light rather than various shapes of the dark sky all around the hall. The carpet felt softer, the air seemed lighter, the atmosphere warmer. Starlight reveled in the glory of it all.

“Hey Starlight,” said Twilight as she approached the stallion just outside the classroom door. “Congratulations on winning!”

Starlight smiled with not a care in the world on his mind.

“That really was something else!” Lyra remarked cheerily. “Say, you're looking different than earlier this week. Weren’t you acting strange at the beginning of this week?”

The stallion scratched his head bashfully. “Yeah, it was a rough start to the week. It actually started when I was right here, staring at the door before our first session. I was so nervous when you and Lyra arrived. It's kinda silly, but when we three couldn't sit together I started to feel like we were being separated. And then I couldn't make fire that exercise-”

“You were the one that couldn’t even make a simple fire?” Lyra asked skeptically, to which Twilight elbowed her.

“I never realized you were having such a hard time,” Twilight reticently remarked. “I feel bad for not noticing how bad things were going for you.”

“Don't be,” Starlight said with a smile as he shook his head. “I was too embarrassed and shy to say anything. But I’ve finally managed to face my fears. Thanks again for handing off the reward; are you sure you don’t want it? I did get help from Professor Yorsets with indirect fabrication and whatnot.”

Lyra rolled her eyes, “Cheeeeating.”

Twilight shook her head, “Given the professor’s reaction, he certainly didn’t teach you how to make miniature stars. It’s yours to keep!” She smiled. “So, are you coming to lunch-?”

“Starlight! Arr!” came a shout from down the hall.

The stallion looked to his right to see a familiar blue figure running toward him, until the panting pony stood just a few inches away panting.

“Seven Seas! How’d it go?” Starlight asked. “You had your test today too, right?”

His friend's head drooped at the mentioning of the test, his breaths deep and heavy. “Arr, the earth... ‘twas a hard thing to master in a mere couple o' days.” He paused and hid his face, only to lift his head up to reveal a smart grin. “But o' course the land ain't as tough as the sea. I passed it better than I did me ol’ sailing tests! Course, I studied more fer those-”

“So you'll be helping set off fireworks at the celebration tomorrow?” Starlight asked.

“O' course!” Seven Seas replied. “What ‘bout yerself?”

“Let’s just say... I’m burning with anticipation,” Starlight said, then stopped. “On second though, that sounded a lot better inside my head...”

The two shared their laughs and high spirits as they started their ridiculous prancing about. Starlight could care less what the onlookers thought at that moment; his success trumped anypony’s opinion of him. After a minute though, one particular part of his body began to grumble, a complaint that the stallion did not mind heeding to.

“So, time for lunch?” Starlight asked, looking to the others, who by then were unable to contain their giggling at him and Seven Seas.

Twilight, once recovered, motioned for the dining hall, “Let's go. You certainly deserve a hearty meal today.”

The group of four walked on down. Starlight glanced over his shoulder only once at the classroom door he had only days ago stared at with restlessness. The image was nothing now but a frame of wood, a physical item marking the entrance to his home away from home for the upcoming winter season.

And to his delight, Starlight had no reason to fear the sight anymore.

Next Chapter: Chapter 9.5 (Interlude): Pyrotechnics Estimated time remaining: 10 Hours, 5 Minutes