"Tell me your gossip, Wizbell Star!" Stella said after letting me go and hopping onto my desk.
"Should I create a spell...? I could modify the stealth spell… but how do I determine hormone suppression? I'm not a chemist… I'd better send a letter to Mom to know what I need to buy."
I cleared my desk, which was full of scrolls and magical notes; Stella hopped nimbly to avoid all the material that shifted around.
I unfolded a simple sheet of paper to write my letter to my parents. I would use the magical mail fire they gifted me a while ago when I moved to the castle; that way the letter would arrive instantly.
"Hi Mom. Sorry for being so direct, but could you give me the list of Quiet products you used to buy for me when I lived at home? I'm in a slightly uncomfortable situation and I need to know which ones I should buy and how to use them. If there is any special procedure or if I need to combine them with another product, please tell me too. Right now I can't leave my house... and I don't plan to until I figure out how to restrain or confine my essence. Today your son… I… had a small social slip, Mom. A small one… I presented myself to all of Ponyville without having used one of those products, and now there are mares circling around the area where I live. The good thing is that I'm good with magical security systems and I'm safe at home. So don't expect accidental grandfoals; none of this was planned. It has been a very strange day. I would really appreciate it if you could send me the list of products I need along with their instructions."
Stella, beside me, read my letter in silence with a wide smile and her tail swishing from side to side.
I quickly pulled the letter away from Stella's paws and slipped it into an envelope, sealing it almost in a hurry before throwing it into the magical fire inside the enchanted lantern my mother gave me. The paper ignited silently and then disintegrated like stardust, sending itself straight to my parents.
My gaze, a bit tense, slid toward the other lantern in the room: Celestia's.
Should I ask her for help?
Maybe… maybe asking for guidance would be the right thing. She always seems to know what to do…
I bit my tongue, hesitating for just a second, before grabbing another sheet. My thoughts ran so fast I could almost hear the mental gears screeching.
I wrote with a stroke more nervous than usual:
"Hi, Tia. I hope you're doing well and that my letter doesn't arrive at a bad moment… like while you're eating cake. I hope it didn't land on one and get covered in frosting."
I paused, took a deep breath, and continued:
"I have a small social problem that I could solve with magic… but there's one variable I can't determine. I don't know how to isolate it…"
Fwoosh!
The second letter vanished in a flash. I could wait quietly for the answer… I could. But looking out the window and seeing mares who never come down this street now walking around as if it had suddenly become an important shortcut…
That only made the weight in my chest tighten even more.
I can't wait. I need to finish this spell now.
Several patterns from the Stealth spell manifested in front of me, overlapping, shining with different intensities. My mind tried to assemble them, to find that perfect adjustment that always slips away at the last second…
If I can calibrate this variable… if I can understand it… maybe I'll be able to breathe easy again.
----------------------
[POV of Wizbell's Parents]
WillStone was busy triangulating possible pockets of void when the silver lamp with his eldest son's name emitted a soft tick, a faint but unmistakable sound. He lifted an ear. A moment later, the inner fire spat out a freshly arrived letter.
With his usual practicality, he caught it with his magic before it touched the floor. He immediately noticed the lack of a wax seal.
No seal?
That's not like Wizbell… he never forgets a detail like that.
When he turned the letter over, he read on the front: "For Mom."
He frowned, intrigued, and carried the letter to his wife, who had just returned from picking up Bonny from preschool.
"Sweetheart, Wiz sent you a letter," he announced as he entered the kitchen.
Alegría came out at once, still wearing her apron, with flour and sugar dusted across her coat. When she saw him holding the letter, her eyes opened slightly.
"That's strange… It hasn't been that long since the last one for him to send another. Something must have happened for my colt to send a letter now."
A subtle spell cleaned her coat, and the apron floated gently toward one of the dining chairs.
"Give it here, give it here. Let's see what spell went wrong this time," she said with a mix of humor and mild concern.
She took the letter in her hoof, opened it with her magic, and unfolded the content in front of both of them, fragmenting it in the air so it would be easier to read.
WillStone watched in silence, attentive to the slightest gesture from his wife, while a small sting of unease grew in his chest.
I hope it's nothing serious… but Wiz doesn't write twice this close together without a reason.
The more Alegría read, the more she furrowed her brow. Her eyes scanned each line with growing disbelief, until she finally lowered the page slowly and looked at her husband, who was already watching her with concern.
"Nothing serious happened, right? Why that look?"
WillStone's voice came out tense, almost shaky. At first he had feared something terrible had happened to his son… but the moment he saw his wife's expression, he recognized it instantly.
That is the reproach look. That one. The dreaded one.
"WillStone…" she said in a calm, dangerous tone. "Did you ever have the estrus talk with Wizbell?"
His heart skipped and he stepped back half a step without meaning to.
"Eh… no! I mean, well… since he was so mature and intelligent, at some point I thought you had already told him. When he turned twelve and never asked anything, I assumed the topic was settled. He never complained about the Quiet soaps like other colts! I thought he understood the importance of using them. And since he's always been closer to you than to me, I figured you had already talked to him."
The more WillStone spoke, the closer Alegría came to him, slowly and steadily, until their foreheads ended up touching. She stared straight into his eyes, so close he had to hold his breath.
"I cannot believe he's just as clueless as you…" she murmured without looking away. "Well, I suppose being atypical runs in the family."
She sighed, and although she sounded frustrated, there was a hint of resigned tenderness.
"Wizbell never asked anything about the subject because he's not affected by it, WillStone. A herd of mares could pass around our son and he'd still be staring at his magic book."
"Just like a certain stallion who never noticed when I urgently needed him to… or how the other cadets reacted whenever that stallion, being distracted, forgot to use his special soap of the month."
WillStone's ears dropped instantly.
"I said I was sorry! I can't smell it, so I always forgot! That's why I have my calendar now where I write down the dates I have to switch my soaps…"
His voice grew weaker and weaker.
"…and I should have taught Wizbell to do the same… yep… it's my fault."
By the time he finished his sentence, he had already walked himself into a corner, almost curling up on himself, mortified.
Great, now my son will suffer the same thing I did… What a wonderful family legacy…
"He'll be fine. He has magic on his side."
Alegría said it naturally, but the phrase lifted the stallion's spirits a little. WillStone raised his ears; his son was more creative with magic than he was. That made him feel a bit better.
While he was still wrestling with his guilt, Alegría had already taken quill and paper, writing down the information Wizbell had requested.
"Oh, this colt…" she murmured with a mix of tenderness and exasperation. "At this rate, it'll take even longer for me to become a grandmother."
She sighed, imagining her son's future romantic life. Between magic, books, and his nonexistent social skills, it was shaping up to be a long-term project.
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[Celestia's POV]
She was not in her throne room nor in her office. At that moment, Celestia was in the magic laboratory, sitting beside a table filled with crystals, reagents, and open scrolls. In front of her rested Wizbell's letter.
She sighed, tired but also amused, and lifted her gaze to the ceiling. There, clearly visible among other old marks, was a stain shaped like a groove roughly the size of a colt.
Yes… that was definitely a mark Wizbell had left.
The princess let her shoulders drop barely a centimeter.
Her apprentice, a unicorn with overwhelming magical talent… now dealing with a social setback born purely of ignorance.
How is it possible that someone so curious never investigated something so mundane…?
She moved the letter with her magic, letting it float gently in front of her.
"I am going to need to buy that memory from Stella… the one that captured Wizbell panicking over all this," she said aloud, thinking of the merchant who collected others' memories. "Should I answer him quickly, or should I not answer at all…? Which one would benefit Twilight more?"
The mention of her other apprentice, Twilight Sparkle, made her pause. The young mare was always caught between curiosity, intrigue, and something more whenever it came to Wizbell. That childish interest that had slowly begun to change.
"I am sorry, Wizbell, but there is no magical solution for this. Not currently, since there has never been a real need to develop that type of magic when there is already a variety of products that accomplish the same purpose."
While she thought, her quill was already writing the response. She deliberately allowed her apprentice to sink, just for a moment, into his little social drama. It was not harmful, but it was instructive.
"This could help him grow as a stallion. He cannot stay locked away behind magic forever."
She set the finished letter aside.
Then she picked up another sheet of paper.
This time, the letter was not for Wizbell, but for Stella.
----------------------------
Wizbell's POV
"No… no, that doesn't work either. I would suffocate. Damn it, it is just one chemical substance… but there are millions of them. Reducing them doesn't help. Locking myself in a magic bubble… effective for containment, but redundant."
The office was a complete disaster. Scrolls everywhere, each one with magical circuits drawn on them, all nearly identical, all with tiny variations. And still, none of them worked. None solved the problem.
Celestia's reply was the first to arrive. I did not even need to read much to notice what she had done: minimal guidance, almost nonexistent. Very… very like her. It was her way of saying, "this is something you must solve on your own, my little wizard."
Frustrating. But typical.
At the same time, a letter for Stella arrived. She did not even let me see it. She snatched it, read it for barely a second, and darted out with the letter in her mouth as if her life depended on it.
Perfect. Another mystery I will not be solving today.
Ting!
Mom's lamp spat out her response, and I caught it with magic before it touched the floor. Strangely nervous, I opened the envelope and unfolded the contents.
First, a list. Products, categories, alternatives… I recognized several names. All things I had once seen on the castle bathroom counter. The same ones the maids swapped out from time to time.
I had used almost all of them before. Except the perfumes… not those.
But the rest, yes.
Below were detailed instructions: bathe with warm water, add the soap before getting in, stir the water for about four minutes…
And beneath that, a homemade recipe in case I could not find the ready-made products but did have the ingredients.
"Good… I have the list now. But… how do I go outside to buy it?"
I approached the window of the door. Outside, several persistent mares still lingered, walking in circles like gentle but dangerous predators.
I guess estrus hits them hard…
I swallowed.
Yes. Going outside right now is dangerous.
I blinked. Only once.
And when I opened my eyes, Pinkie Pie was sitting right outside my door, completely still, smiling as if she had been there since the beginning of time.
I had not heard steps. I had not felt a presence. Nothing. She had simply… come into existence right now in front of me.
I froze, my thoughts halting like an interrupted spell.
She tilted her head slightly and, with that voice of hers that always sounds like it bounces off invisible bubbles, said:
"At some point you're going to have to go out for a muffin."
"What?!"
I jumped back, startled. I looked outside again… but she was gone. No trace of Pinkie Pie, as if she had never been there.
Only the same confused mares remained, arguing among themselves with a map in their hoof, as if trying to orient themselves or find a direction they could not make sense of.
I stayed there, unmoving, trying to process what had just happened.
Did I… imagine that?
No. That line was far too specific.
But Pinkie had disappeared as quickly as she had appeared.
I shook my head. I need a shower and to cool off so I can think more clearly. I went upstairs to my room…
Why is one of my pillows missing…?
Someone has already been here! How?! When?! Why are they taking my pillow?!
Author's Note:
I guess there was enough creative juice for another chapter.😁