I find myself at last, standing at the precipice of my destiny, my birthright.

After decades…centuries of research, preparation, and waiting, I find myself amidst a field of roses, brighter red and more beautiful than any I have ever seen. The field stretches on farther than the eye can see. One might even be willing to believe they stretch on forever, and in a sense, such a romantic fool might very well be right.

But the roses are only a decoration, a compliment to my goal. Before me lies an enormous door, wrought of ghostwood and banded with black steel. There is no handle, no latch. All there is to be seen is a hieroglyph scrawled, carved across the surface of the ancient door in a tongue lost long since to time, to even one as ancient as myself. Even so, I know deep in the blackest pits of what might pass for my soul what the symbol means.

Unfound

I loose a choked, dry cackle from my throat, piercing the windstrewn silence as I look upwards at the final obstacle between me and my prize. The Tower.

The Tower

And atop it, where the twelve great Beams intersect, resides Him. He is great, and indeed, He is mighty, but his time has passed. Before his light, there were monsters, and after, there shall be monsters once more, and I as their King.

I clutch it in my hand, my most treasured tool, the Masterpiece of my mother's greatest servant. The voices of my kindred cry to me through the veil as I hold the dark, brooding sphere in hand and declare myself to the forces of the White, declare my challenge.

“I am the Firstborn of the Sire of Eld, Greatest of the Countless born of the Crimson Queen, Crown Prince, and First Champion of The Red. I come bearing naught but my chosen weapon and the will to wield it to challenge the Father and First Champion of The White. I shall not be denied. This challenge is my right, and you shall bar me no longer. Bear witness to the badge of my authority, the sum of the dark spaces between that fall under my rule, and open to me.”

A long, heavy silence, no longer even broken by the wind, not the powerful thrumming of the beams, hangs heavy over the Tower, perhaps over all of existence, for a long moment as I press the Black Bend to the Unfound Door. Then, I break out in a rancorous cackle as I see the rune on the door change.

Found

The door opens, and as my laughter cedes to a soft chuckle, I take my first step. My first of many towards the top of the Tower.

I awaken with a start, nearly toppling out of my seat as my hooves slam into the table. I quickly look around, head darting to and fro as I scan my surroundings before relaxing with a heavy sigh and sagging back into my seat. That had been a very vivid dream, but I could already feel a lot of it slipping away. Something about a tower? I give a slight shiver as I put it to the back of my mind, slipping out of my seat and stretching some of the stiffness out of my extremities.

As it turns out, learning how to keep things organized can be very taxing. The last thing I remember is Cheerilee leaving for the day as I started my review of the Method of Loci. Supposedly, it is a method of memorization that revolves around creating a mental image of a familiar space and correlating information to places within that space. I had chosen to go with the library, since I will be spending a lot of time here, and of course, a library seems a sound basis on which to create an organized mental image.

But the actual exercises tired me out more than I had anticipated, and I seem to have found myself asleep at my desk. I groan and look at the clock, seeing that it’s now the wee hours of the morning, around five or so.

With a small sigh, I resign myself to staying up and decide to get some chores done. I shed my outfit, taking it down to the basement, where the building's washing machine and dryer are located. I follow Rarity's care instructions as I wash the clothes, wanting to be careful not to damage or shrink them.

Once my clothes are put to wash, I head back upstairs and write a small reminder to check on them in an hour or so in my day planner before heading upstairs to groom myself. A quick cool shower and a minty toothbrushing make me feel a bit more awake, but still a bit groggy as I dry myself off.

I go back downstairs to the kitchen to rummage through the cabinets. I frown as I see that there seems to be no more coffee in the canister. Suboptimal. I make another note in my day planner and set some tea to brew. It’s not as good as what I had enjoyed yesterday morning, but it’s hard to beat a fresh blend with…a friend.

I smile a bit as I hold the little bag of tea around my neck while I watch the pot do its thing. Everypony in town had been relatively kind so far, with er…exceptions. Zecora had felt a bit different, though. The kindness of the other ponies, while genuine and very much deserving of my gratitude, had an element of…performativity to it? It had the same countenance as holding the door for somepony but elevated. They were clearly happy to be doing it, but it felt as if it was something they weren’t required to do, but encouraged to do even if that weren’t the case.

When Zecora and I spoke, it felt more like we were forming a genuine connection. The things we shared in common made it easier for us to be open with each other more naturally. Sure, aside from the fortune telling, it was mostly small talk, but it felt good, right even.

I shudder a bit at this train of thought and collect myself. Should I be weighing whose friendship I feel is more valuable like that? Am I commodifying the goodwill of genuinely good peop-er…ponies by assigning value judgments to their kindness? Maybe I should put my perception of this place and its societal expectations aside for now and just try to appreciate things for what they are rather than what my limited experience with these ponies leads me to think they are.

Ugh, it’s too early for this shit. Alright, bad feelings are going back and the box now. Annnd there we go, locked up nice and tight, right where I want them.

As my tea finishes steeping, I sigh and pour myself a glass, with sugar, over ice like God intended. I quickly down the refreshing concoction and place the glass in the sink before heading into the sitting area for my morning routine.

As I do my breathing and mana flow exercises, I feel that little burl inside of me again. I can’t say for sure, but I can almost swear it's just a bit bigger than it was yesterday and somehow a bit redder than the rest of my mana, if only by a shade. Huh, I don’t like that. Hopefully, that gets better on its own.

A small sigh escapes my lips as I come down from that comfortable high of feeling my power coursing through me. Today is Sunday, which means the library is closed, as it is considered a day of rest for government workers.

Which is weird, considering that there doesn't seem to be Christianity here. Something about a Sun Goddess, I think? I’ll be honest. I was pretty toasted after work with how hard I had been working my brain. Huh….come to think of it, I probably shouldn’t be walking around being quite that ignorant. Alright, it's time to hit the books…again. God, I’m sensing a pattern here. It’s a really good thing I like to read….

I walk back upstairs and fetch the copy of A Brief History of Equestria that Cheerilee had given me. I head back downstairs to crack it open; it's time to learn some history.

….Okay, wow, this is kind of fucked up. Okay, no, the ice demons definitely make the compulsive niceness much more sense. And I’m guessing the sun pony in the story after that is who Cheerilee was talking about.

It’s…kind of really sad to think about the other pony being trapped on the moon, though. I hope she’s doing okay up there. It makes the full moon I saw my first night here even more beautiful, in a tragic way.

As I process this new information, I attempt to use the techniques I was working on yesterday. Visualizing the information as being in the book I was reading, I then imagine placing the book on the appropriate shelf in my mental image of the library, doing my best to imprint it in my mind. I…think I’ve got it?

I sigh as I rub at my temple with a hoof. This will take some getting used to, but I can see how it could be helpful if I master it.

Hmmm…what if…
I focus again, closing my eyes as I visualize the library again. I picture myself walking over to the modest section dedicated to magic, finding the book Cheerilee had provided me on the Subject on the shelf, and I turn to the page where Grasp is located.

Yes, it’s right there where it should be. I focus on the book before me and look down at the weave diagram in my mind, following along as if I were reading directly from it.

Even with the additional step of finding and referencing the mental image, putting the weave together is far faster than usual. Tightening and optimizing the weave takes less than half the time it typically does, and in about five seconds, I open my eyes to find the book floating in front of me.

I give an excited little noise and patter my hooves against the table as I feel a grin stretch across my face. Oh yes, now we're cooking. I think I might be onto something here. I wonder if I can come up with a few more new tricks…

I think that can wait until later. For now, I should try to focus on the basics and their immediate applications, if only to avoid overwhelming myself with new information.

I then move on to the other spell I know, the Light spell, cataloging that one in the same book. I haven’t used this one more than once or twice since I learned it, and the diagram in my mind is less defined and less reliable than the one for Grasp when I try to visualize it. I sigh as I take the book out again and turn to the page where the spell is located, staring at it intently as I commit the weave further to memory, visualizing myself erasing the first entry and redrawing it more clearly.

That seems to work. My image is significantly more precise, though it’s still a bit difficult to focus on. I wince and give a soft groan, closing my eyes and rubbing at my head with a hoof again. Focusing this hard is starting to give me a slight headache.

I stop for now, closing the book and putting it away before taking a look out the window. The sun is rising, a few glimmering, warm beams of light streaming into the library as the orb peeks over the horizon.

I wince just a bit again as the light hits my eyes, my budding headache flaring a bit. Yeah, alright then. Some Coffee definitely sounds good right about now. Hopefully, there’s somewhere in town to get a cup this early.

I slip my saddlebags on, making sure I still have the currency that the mare from the park had given me. Bits, they were called. I had learned that at the party the night before last. I would hope she at least gave me enough to buy a morning cup of coffee after molesting me that way, but we’ll see.

I lock up the library behind me before heading out. If I remember what the one who had given me the salt said correctly…yes! There it is!

I approach a rather elaborately decorated little shop, designed to look as if it were assembled from pastries of all sorts, sporting a gingerbread roof and a rather charming second story that looked like a couple of cupcakes stacked atop one another, candles cheerfully burning in the dim light of the dawn.

And what's more, I can smell it. Through the expected haze of sugar and vanilla, I can detect strong notes of coffee. Oh, thank God, yesssss.

I quickly enter the establishment, a small bell chiming as the door opens. I see a yellow-colored stallion working the front counter. His orange mane is cropped short, and a set of kind, warm green eyes decorate his expression.

He waves me over, smiling brightly as he watches me approach the counter. “Welcome to Sugarcube Corner,” he says brightly. “You must be the new fella in town. Pinkie was telling me about you yesterday.”

I offer him a smile as I make it to the counter, stifling a small yawn. “Mnnnn…yes, I’m new in town. My name is Rose Tint. Pinkie gave me a welcome party a few days ago. I don't think I saw you there, though.” I say as I rummage through my saddlebag for the small hoofful of bits.

“Oh yeah, that tracks. The missus and I had to hang back and clean up after we did the catering for your party. Pinkie is the one who does the actual party planning.” He explains as he starts to polish a glass in his hooves.

I blink at this, tilting my head slightly before returning to my business, reaching for my cheat sheet in the bag. “Really? That’s too bad. I guess it’s a good thing I came in today. In that case, thank you for your hard work, Mister…”

He chuckles and waves me off casually before resuming his polishing. “Carrot Cake is just fine, kid. Now, what can I getcha?”

“A cup of Coffee and a white chocolate raspberry danish, please,” I say quickly as I look from the menu to my smell slip of paper, ensuring I’m reading correctly. I take out the money for the purchase and slide the bits across the counter to the stallion. “We were out of coffee at the library, so I figured this would be the best place to come until I can shop for more.”

He chuckles at this and takes my bits, sliding the pastry across the counter from the display case before going to the back to grab one of the couple of steaming pots to pour my cup of coffee. “In that case, toss me another bit, and I’ll send you home with a pound bag.”

I don’t hesitate, quickly slapping another bit down onto the counter as soon as the offer is made. After setting my cup down in front of me, Carrot sees this and trots into the back area where I presume the kitchen is. A few minutes later, he returns with a small brown package and sets it on the counter for me. I nod and take it, placing it in my saddlebags. “I must say, I’m surprised to see you guys open on Sunday like this. Isn't this a day of rest in Equestria?”

Carrot shrugs as he watches me take the package. “Ah, that’s mostly just for government offices and facilities, like the post or the mayor’s office. Most Ponies still open up shop for a bit and then close early in the afternoon to take the rest of the day to relax, but stuff still has to get done here and there, so we all do what we need to.”

While this exchange is going on, the door opens again, and the little bell chimes out as a small orange pegasus filly makes her way inside. Her magenta mane and tail are unkempt, and her eyes, similar to mine, are downcast as she approaches the counter.

She longingly looks over the selection of baked goods and assorted treats in the display cases. I can’t help but notice the conspicuous lack of any way to carry money on her person. I look down at my now somewhat diminished supply of bits, then over at my pastry. I had only come out for the coffee, really. The danish had been more of an impulse buy.

I put the pastry on a napkin and motion to the filly. “Hey, kid, are you hungry?” I ask gently, pushing the danish across the counter towards her.

She looks surprised but smiles and nods, taking the danish and enthusiastically digging into it. “Thanks, mister,” she says, muffled by her full mouth between large bites.

“You can thank me later. For now, just eat. You’re going to choke if you try to do both,” I say, holding back a small chuckle as I witness the foals' almost feral behavior. “What, are your folks not buying you breakfast?”

She seems to wilt a bit at this, and her enthused eating slows down a notable degree as she mulls the question over. “My parents are out of town a lot, but Aunt Holiday and Aunt Lofty come and check on me when they can, bring me money and food…”

“Huh…you don’t say? I don't think they are bringing enough if you’re over here at the crack of dawn ready to beg.” I say as I consider the foal, rubbing at my chin.

She seems a bit offended by my statement, stamping her little hoof. “Hey! How did you know I was gonna-I mean…I wasn’t gonna beg!” She insists with a displeased little huff.

“Of course not,” I say to appease her as I slowly reach into my bag again. I pull out another five bits, then look at Carrot Cake, getting his attention before gesturing with my head subtly back at the foal as I slide the bits across the counter. He nods, and I continue to talk to the filly. “What’s your name, by the way? I don’t think I caught it.”

She finishes scarfing down the danish and wipes the crumbs off her mouth. She beams up at her with confidence brimming in her eyes. “The name’s Scootaloo, what about you?”

“Rose Tint, I am training to help Miss Cheerilee run the library,” I say as I take my first sip of coffee. I make a satisfied little noise as I feel the hot elixir begin to seep its warmth through my body as it hits my stomach.

“Oh! I heard about you from one of the others at school, " she says as she leans over a bit, looking down at my saddlebag. “Is... is it true?” she asks in a small whisper as she gestures towards my flank.

I raise a brow at this, brushing it off with a chuckle. “Yeah, it’s true. I’m not worried about it, though. I didn't even know I was supposed to have one. It’ll show up when it shows up. I’ve been doing just fine without it, so I’m not in any hurry.”

She seems taken aback by this, leaning in a bit as she appraises me. “Really? But what if you never get it?”

“Then I guess I never get it,” I say with a shrug. I down the rest of my coffee as she tries to formulate an answer. “Maybe I’ll see you around, Scoots. Hang in there, okay?”

I turn and start on my way, resisting the urge to turn and look back at the filly. Whatever is going on with her, I’m not able to do much for her right now. I’ll have to ask Cheerilee what’s going on with her later.

In the meantime…well, I did kind of give the kid my breakfast. I should probably head back and see if I can’t make myself something with what’s left in the cabinets. Maybe do a little bit of studying. I’ve got a whole day ahead of me. Might as well make it count for something.

And there it is! I hope you guys are as excited as I am for us to wrap up this first arc of the story. It's a bit over halfway done now, by my reckoning.

I would once again like to shout out Exiled Path For their continued support. Thanks, man.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the new chapter ^^