The sense of gravity had inverted. My hooves touched the ceiling of the classroom as if it were the floor. The sensation was… much better. The initial antigravity effect had been useful, sure, but it caused an annoying unease in my stomach.
This, on the other hoof, felt natural.
As if the world had simply flipped with me included.
"Hmm…" I murmured, thoughtful, as my body adjusted. "Maybe I can develop a version with dynamic adjustment… one that detects surfaces or syncs with my intention to change gravitational direction…"
————————
While Wizbell was fully focused on his spell, the door to the study room opened gently.
Celestia stepped in, crossing the threshold with calm steps, though her expression showed slight confusion. She looked around… and found no one.
"Are you sure he's here?" she asked softly, her eyes still scanning the seemingly empty room.
A guard stationed outside peeked in behind her, equally puzzled as he glanced around.
"I swear, Your Highness. Young Star was inside. Only Miss Sparkle left about an hour ago. He hasn't exited since," he answered, his voice tinged with concern as he gave the room another visual sweep.
A sudden meow broke the tension.
Both turned toward the source of the sound. Stella, perched like an innocent housecat on a high shelf, stared back at them. Noticing their gaze, she casually raised an eyebrow and then looked up… at the ceiling.
Celestia and the guard followed her eyes.
There, upside-down, completely immersed in his spell and mumbling to himself, was Wizbell. Stuck to the ceiling. Surrounded by golden lines of magic gently floating around him like he was the center of an enchanted compass.
"…Found him," the guard murmured.
Celestia smiled at the sight.
There was something undeniably endearing about how her student could become so thoroughly lost in a spell… while hanging from the ceiling.
Very Wizbell.
It was normal to find Twilight buried beneath piles of scrolls, books, and columns of categorized notes. But Wizbell? He was always wrapped in spells—finished, half-finished, or still in the process of activating. The latter was by far the most common.
Whenever she came looking for him, he was always surrounded by magic.
And it was always a surprise.
"Well then, my little apprentice," she said tenderly, raising her voice just a bit, "would you come down so we can talk?"
A soft magical pulse—gentle as a caress—reached Wizbell, pulling him from his trance as he lifted his gaze toward her.
"Oh! Wait, coming!"
Another magic circle appeared beneath his hooves, wrapping him in golden light. In one smooth motion, he floated down like an enchanted feather… until a final spark marked the end of the spell.
Now standing before Celestia, he dispelled the antigravity with a small burst of magic that dispersed the lingering aura around him.
"All set," he said, giving his coat a quick shake, his eyes still gleaming from the thrill of his success.
————————
The guard offered a quick, nervous bow and returned to his post, leaving the room to the two of them.
Celestia walked calmly toward a set of cushions by the large windows. Wizbell followed, magical residue still softly glimmering along his coat. Once they were settled, Celestia looked at him with her usual patience, as if time simply didn't matter in that moment.
"So… how did you manage it?" she asked gently.
Wizbell began explaining the process, the fine adjustments in the spell, the shift in his approach. He mentioned how the idea had started from a random spark of thought—and how Stella, unintentionally, had been the inspiration. As expected, she was still playing the part of an ordinary cat, curled up on a shelf like she hadn't been listening at all.
Celestia cast her a brief sideways glance, wearing the faintest of smiles. She knew exactly how sharp Stella was. But, as always… she let her play her game.
She nodded calmly, listening in silence. Attentive. Present. Until, with her natural sense for timing, she asked:
"And you? How did you feel… about your decision?"
It was a simple question. Quiet.
But heavy.
Wizbell froze slightly.
His words stalled.
Because she wasn't talking about the spell.
The memory came rushing back. What he had done. What he had said. What he had chosen.
He let out a sigh—not of relief, but the kind weighted with thoughts that hadn't yet settled. There was still so much to process… and it had all happened just hours ago.
Celestia said nothing more. She didn't push. She simply stayed beside him, giving the silence room to let his thoughts line up on their own.
"I don't regret it," he said at last, his gaze low, but voice steady. "I have a lot to offer this world… and this is a path that makes me feel whole. Not entirely, of course. It doesn't define all of who I am, but it does define a part of me."
He took a deep breath before continuing.
"I love magic. I really do. But I also find meaning in combat, in justice… in doing what's right. It feels natural to use my abilities to stop those who do harm. To protect others. But the truth is… I'm still one of the protected. A civilian. And that… doesn't sit well with me. I hate feeling powerless. I hate having to rely on others to take action. That's not me, Auntie. Just like I don't enjoy following the footsteps of other mages blindly… I feel the same about this."
He paused, but his thoughts didn't end there.
"If I could go back to that afternoon, before the letter arrived… I'd make the same choice. Maybe this world isn't as cheerful or colorful as the one I once dreamed of. But it's worth it. Protecting others' reality makes me feel whole.
Or at least… closer to it."
Celestia remained silent, her face serene, though her eyes reflected a deep blend of love, sorrow, and pride. She nodded slowly, and when she finally spoke, her voice was soft—unforced.
"If it were up to me… I wouldn't let you walk this path," she admitted. "I'd hide it from you. I'd punish those who showed it to you just because they saw your potential. But Wizbell… that was never an option. Not when you understand things the way I do."
Her eyes grew more serious—but not harsh.
"That doesn't mean it makes me happy. Because it doesn't. But knowing how you feel… it gives me peace. Even if it won't stop me from worrying about you. So don't expect me to act… not yet. Not until I believe you're ready. Learn. Train. Explore as much as you want. But now isn't the time."
Then she wrapped her wings around him in an embrace.
He didn't resist.
He let himself be held, and for a few seconds, the world felt still. Silent. Grounded.
Until he spoke again.
"In the future… I'd like to move away," I said, breaking the silence with something I'd been feeling for a while, but only now had the courage to say. "Far from Canterlot. I don't know exactly where yet, but somewhere far from the gazes filled with ulterior motives. Here, in the castle… it's not my place. But neither is anywhere out there, really. I just know I want a space of my own. A place where I don't have to worry about power games, about nobles with hidden agendas, about words that say one thing but mean another. And that… I'll only find in a small town. Places where ponies are simpler, more direct. Friendlier, too."
Celestia didn't say anything at first, and that gave me the courage to continue.
"I've already thought about it. Once I finish my studies under your guidance, I'd like to take my research to one of those towns outside of Canterlot. I've saved up enough bits—thanks to the spells I've sold, the smaller magical studies that worked out… and the scholarship fund I get as your student. I don't want to do it in secret, or break the bond we have. I just… want to start building something of my own."
I paused for a moment, lowering my voice slightly, but keeping my tone steady.
"Even now, with this future ahead of me as a Warden, I'm still thinking about moving. I wonder if that will be possible… or if I'll be forced to live in a designated area. I don't know how those things work—if there's a choice or if… you're just assigned."
As I spoke, Celestia tightened the embrace—not forcefully, but in that maternal way she had of saying everything without words. She let out a sigh, one that carried more weight than she intended to show.
"I knew it would happen someday…" she murmured, her voice a mix of sadness and pride. "But I didn't think we'd be talking about it so soon. You don't make things easy for me, Wizbell."
We pulled apart gently. And as we did, the first thing I noticed was the sweet, warm scent in the air. Vanilla. Freshly delivered pastries. Lots of them.
Celestia glanced at me sideways, as if trying to lighten the mood without fully letting go of it.
"My day started a bit rough, Wizbell. I hope this won't be an inconvenience…"
I said nothing. Just smiled. A genuine smile. Because even if everything felt complicated, what she was giving me in that moment was more valuable than any answer: trust.
Celestia didn't force the silence. She simply picked up two pastries from the tray and ate them slowly, taking her time before resuming the conversation. When she spoke again, her tone was calm, as if she had already given it plenty of thought.
"The location of your duties as a Warden isn't fixed," she said bluntly. "Some are willing to be sent anywhere… but the truth is, there's no one right place. There are even areas where we have no jurisdiction, because the world is vast, and the boundaries of our work aren't always clear. So don't worry about that. In fact… I already have a place in mind for you to consider."
She looked at me with purpose, as if to confirm that she wasn't catching me off guard.
"I'd already thought of this possibility… that you might want to move, or that one of us might need to take on something outside Canterlot. Lately… this feeling has been stronger. A sense that a certain place might be right. But I need to look into it further before I'm sure."
She paused briefly.
"Would you have any issue if I'm the one who chooses it?"
I thought about it for a moment. It was a serious question—and I knew it. But it was also an invitation to trust her, just as she had trusted me.
"My only condition," I finally said, "is that it's close enough to Canterlot so I can visit my parents… and the castle. I don't want to disappear to the other side of the world, lost in solitude. I just want somewhere peaceful. A place where I can breathe without every step I take being watched by hidden intentions."
"Then it's settled!" Celestia said with enthusiasm, like the matter had been sealed with royal decree. "Once I'm certain of the place, I'll tell you. But for now… help me with these."
She floated the pastry tray toward me with her magic, as if we were celebrating something quietly. Before I could respond, she added with a more casual smile:
"Oh, right… if you have any ideas or wishes about what you'd like your house to be like, feel free to send me a sketch. How you'd like it to look, what features it should have. After all, it'll be your place."
Just the idea of having my own home, designed to my liking, with Celestia's full support… excited me more than I wanted to admit. Without hesitation, I took a pastry and accepted it like someone stepping into a new chapter.
But the moment I finished it, my gaze slowly drifted to Celestia, who was still calmly enjoying her sweets.
And then I felt it.
A wave of energy fired straight from my stomach.
What did I do?
The world started to slow down, as if time itself was stretching. The sounds grew lower, more distant, and my head… began to float.
I'm having a sugar crash. Or surge. Maybe both.
My mind began spiraling out of control, drawn to every flicker of light, every movement, every stimulus within reach.
Everything was important.
Everything was urgent.
With effort, I leaned over to a desk, grabbed a scroll… and started writing. I didn't even know what, exactly. Words. Symbols. Probably a list of things like: "Never trust pastries without magical labels."
But the important thing was… I was writing.
Because the sugar chaos had officially begun.
————————
Celestia watched with slight discomfort as Wizbell stared at her… and his pupils began to dilate more and more. What started as simple enthusiasm quickly crossed an invisible line. In a flash, Wizbell was no longer seated, but a blur of motion—and then suddenly, there he was at the desk, writing with impossible speed.
Quills slid across parchment as if they had minds of their own, scribbling over each other in chaotic layers. His thoughts were flowing faster than he could organize them.
Celestia sighed gently and made a clear mental note: Wizbell doesn't consume much sugar… and clearly doesn't tolerate large quantities well.
Before long, Wizbell was surrounded by ink, quills, and at least six different scrolls. He was writing on all of them at once, completely focused, with a level of intensity that only an extreme sugar rush could produce.
And a minute later, without warning… he was on the ceiling again.
He floated upside down, activating tiny propulsion spells, tracing magical lines that spun around him as he mumbled calculations too fast to follow.
Celestia simply observed, saying nothing. She didn't intervene, but her magic was ready in case she needed to shield him.
Still, to her surprise, even in that altered state, Wizbell didn't do anything truly dangerous. He moved with energy and chaos, yes—but also with a strange instinct for control.
And although the ceiling wasn't the ideal place for a sugar-fueled magical storm… at least he wasn't trying to fly out the window... Yet.
At some point, Wizbell crashed from the sugar rush and fell asleep—face-first—onto a large sheet of parchment he had pulled from his magical bag. On it, he had drawn a simple yet highly detailed wooden house, complete with internal layout plans neatly arranged to the side.
Celestia blinked, surprised.
She didn't recall any part of his education including architectural design. But then again… it didn't completely shock her either. The little one had always been curious about everything. He must have studied it on his own at some point, just out of interest.
She stayed in silence for a moment, wondering whether to take the parchment and prepare the house as a surprise for him later… or not. But her playful side won.
With a smile, she gently took the parchment and tucked it beneath her wing.
As she finished tidying up around Wizbell, adjusting the blanket over him, the double doors of the room suddenly swung open—and Twilight entered, visibly excited.
"Wizbell! I found a Turner Flow scroll!"
Twilight halted, confused, as she took in the scene before her, Celestia calmly finishing her last pastry…
Wizbell fast asleep on a cushion, deep in dreams… and Stella, curled up beside him, purring like a satisfied guardian.