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RogerDodger
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The Tutor
Being summoned to the headmistress’s office can be intimidating enough at a normal school. When the headmistress also happens to be the Princess of the entire nation? At that point, the gates of Tartarus start to sound more inviting.
Actually, the gates of Tartarus aren’t that far from here. A few hours on a train, a couple more hours of walking…
“Miss Illumination,” Princess Celestia said. “Are you listening?”
“Uh, yes, Princess.” Crepuscular Illumination quickly straightened up.
“Your grades are starting to concern me,” Princess Celestia continued. “I know you are a very bright student, but your grades have been slipping in nearly all of your classes.”
It was true. Crepuscular was in the half of the student body that made the top-half possible. It wasn’t so much that she was lazy.
…Actually, that sums it up pretty well. She hadn’t been doing her assigned work in most of her classes, and her grades had taken a turn for the worse because of it.
“Is there anything I can do?” Crepuscular looked around nervously. “I mean, do I still have time to fix this?”
Princess Celestia’s expression shifted to one of thoughtful consideration. “We do offer a tutorship program.”
“I don’t think a tutor will be able to help me.”
“You misunderstand.” Princess Celestia smiled as the idea fell together in her head. “You continue to make remarkable grades in your Astronomy classes. I would like you to become a tutor.”
“Me?” A student skirting the edge between passing and failing hardly seemed qualified to be a tutor. “I’m sorry, Princess, but are you sure?”
Princess Celestia merely smiled and nodded in that princess-y way of hers. “I’ve always held that it is the connections between ponies that this school makes that truly matter. If you can learn to help your fellow students, I think that would be a very worthwhile lesson, indeed.”
“Well…” Crepuscular said hesitantly, “if you think it’s a good idea, then okay. I’ll give it a shot.”
Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Princess Celestia rose from her seat. “Then it is decided: you shall continue your studies in this school while serving as a tutor.” A more serious glint appeared in her eyes. “Though I do expect to see improvement in your other classes, as well.”
Crepuscular winced, but nodded. “Don’t worry, Princess. I won’t mess this up.”
Crepuscular Illumination sat alone in the library, mindless twirling a quill around in her magic. Being under “special circumstances” meant that, rather than having students sign up to be tutored by her, she was assigned a specific student, and if her guess was any good, it’d be the one who needed the most help.
“Whoever they are,” Crepuscular said to herself, “the first thing they need to learn is how to arrive on time.”
To be perfectly honest, it’d hadn’t been that long, but Crepuscular wasn’t exactly looking forward to this, either. She wasn’t the most social of butterflies, and she’d be the first to admit that she didn’t know the first thing about being a tutor. What could she possibly teach this student if a professor couldn’t get through to them?
The sound of rapid hoofsteps pulled Crepuscular out of her thoughts. She turned in time to see a pony come around the corner, panting and looking around nervously. She looked like a first-year filly, with a mint-green coat and a mane to match.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re still here,” she said as she ran over. “I’m so, so sorry I’m late.” She dropped her saddlebags and took a seat. “This place is so big, and I still don’t really know my way around. I’ve never even been in this part of the school.”
Definitely a first-year.
Crepuscular looked the little filly up and down. “I’m guessing you’re the pony I’m supposed to tutor?”
She nodded feverishly. “My name’s Lyra. Lyra Heartstrings.”
“I’m Crepuscular Illumination.”
“Crepiscu… Cr-Cripusci—Can I call you ‘Creppy’?” she asked with a sheepish smile.
“No.”
“‘Loomy’?”
“No.”
Lyra tapped her hooves nervously.
“…‘Crep-a-loom’?”
“No.” Crepuscular said flatly. “My name is Crepuscular Illumination. If you can’t handle pronouncing that, then you’re going to a tough time lasting in this school.”
“Oh…” Lyra’s eyes fell to the floor.
Crepuscular shook her head and sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just nervous about this whole tutor thing.”
“It’s okay,” Lyra said softly. “I’m nervous, too.” The little filly slowly started to relax.
“Okay, I’m supposed to tutor you in Astronomy.” Crepuscular said. “What are you struggling with? History? Theory? Applications in Magic? Divination?”
Lyra gave her a great big smile.
“All of it.”
There was an impressive thud as Crepuscular’s head struck the table.
“Great…”
Tutoring Lyra was beginning to feel a full-time job to Crepuscular Illumination, and with the additional struggle of trying to catch up in her other classes, her stress levels had reached greater heights than ever before. She was rubbing her temples during one of their tutoring sessions while Lyra combed through her textbooks.
“Okay,” Crepuscular said, trying to keep her voice even, “let’s try this again. On the eve of the one-hundredth Summer Sun Celebration, the Council of Wizards created a new constellation in the night sky to commemorate the event. Which constellation was it?”
“Uh…” Lyra flipped through her textbooks, hoping to find the answer. “Was it… Aquarius?”
“It was Cygnus.”
Lyra blankly stared at her. “That’s the duck one, right?”
“Cygnus is a swan,” Crepuscular said, dragging a hoof down her face. “How about this: Starwind the Bright designed two of the constellations still in the night sky today. Can you name them?”
“Um…” Lyra bit her lip as she continued flipping through her book. “Um…”
“C’mon, Lyra,” Crepuscular said with a sigh. “We went over this a few days ago.”
The little filly stared up at her, waiting for the answer.
Crepuscular shook her head slowly. “They are Pegasus and Equuleus. She designed the first one after her husband—a pegasus—and the second after their son. That’s why they’re still around today. Princess Celestia was so impressed by her love and devotion to her family that she decreed that those constellations would always be a part of our nighttime sky.”
“Oh, yeah,” Lyra said quietly.
“You know what? Enough of the history books.” Crepuscular levitated her bags onto her back. “Meet me on the roof tonight two hours after sunset.”
Crepuscular Illumination was browsing through her Literature notes with the help of a nearby candle when the familiar sound of hurried hoofsteps arrived on the roof.
“You’re late again,” she said without looking up.
“I know, I’m sorry.” Lyra set her bags down and took a seat next to her. “I’ve never been up here before, so I wasn’t sure how to get here.”
“Well, you’re here now,” Crepuscular said, putting her notes away. “Let’s get started.”
Lyra let out a little yawn. “Why’d I have to come out here so late, anyway?”
Crepuscular pointed to the telescope she set up earlier. “We’re going to study the stars the old-fashioned way: by looking at them.”
Lyra looked on in curiosity as Crepuscular adjusted the telescope and peered through it.
“Take out one of your star charts,” Crepuscular instructed. “See if you can tell me which constellation this is.”
Lyra quickly pulled out a chart and looked through the telescope. After a few moments of going back and forth between the two, she hung her head in defeat.
“I-I can’t really tell,” she said slowly.
“Here, look.” Crepuscular traced her hoof along the star chart. “I have it pointed at Libra. Try to find the three stars that make this triangle, and these two stars below it.”
Lyra resumed her back-and-forth between the chart and the telescope.
“I think I can see it,” she finally said.
“Alright,” Crepuscular said, walking up to the telescope. “On to the next one.” She brought her eye to the piece and slowly adjusted it until she was satisfied with its position. Once done, she stepped aside and invited Lyra to look.
Lyra considered the view in the telescope more thoughtful than before and studied her star chart with narrowed eyes. Crepuscular was prepared to give her the answer again until an unexpected sight stopped her in her tracks.
Lyra’s eyes shot open as she looked between the telescope and chart in excitement.
“Is it this one?!” she said, feverishly pointing at a constellation on the chart. “‘M-Monokeras’?”
Crepuscular smiled. “Well, it’s pronounced ‘Monoceros’ for the constellation, but yeah—it’s that one.”
“Really?” Lyra was absolutely beaming. “I got it right? I got it right!” She started jumping up and down like the giddy little filly she was.
“Okay, okay,” Crepuscular said, trying to calm her down. “Good job, seriously, but you gotta keep it down.”
Lyra stopped and looked at her curiously. “Are we not supposed to be up here?”
“Uh, sort of?” Crepuscular gave her sheepish grin. “It’s just better if we don’t get caught, okay?”
Lyra nodded and made a zipping motion across her lips. Time continued to pass as Crepuscular would adjust the telescope and Lyra would try to identify the constellation. Most of the time Lyra would need help, but the few that she got on her own were always a reason to celebration.
“Hey, Lyra?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve got some studying of my own to do.” Crepuscular levitated her notes from her saddlebags. “You can pack up and go to sleep, if you want.”
Lyra shuffled on her hooves. “Is it okay if I stay here? I kinda wanna keep looking.”
“Seriously?”
“Uh-huh. It’s way better than looking at it in a book.” Lyra nodded to herself. “I’ll try not to bother you, so can I stay?”
Thinking it over, Crepuscular eventually shrugged. “I guess you can stay for a little while.”
Lyra smiled and peered through the telescope, adjusting it to look at a new part of the night sky. Crepuscular had barely started reading her notes when Lyra started bouncing in excitement.
“Ooh, ooh! Crepuscular, look!” She pointed at the telescope with a broad smile on her face. “I found Orion!”
So much for not being bothered. Crepuscular set her notes back down and went over to the telescope. Looking through it, she confirmed that the constellation was, indeed, Orion.
“Nice work, Lyra.”
“It’s my favorite constellation!” Lyra said with a nod.
“Makes sense,” Crepuscular said with a shrug. “It’s pretty easy to identify.”
“That’s not why it’s my favorite,” Lyra said, smiling. “It’s my favorite ‘cause it’s based on a human. My daddy used to tell me stories about humans all the time.”
“What’s the big deal about humans?” Crepuscular asked. “They’re mythological creatures. Somepony a long time ago just made them up for stories, like ghosts or the Boogeypony.”
Lyra shook her head. “My daddy said he met humans once, and he told me all sorts of things about them, like the clothes they wear and the way they sit.” She looked up at Orion, a dreamy sparkle in her eyes. “I really want to meet a human someday. That’d be the best day ever.”
Crepuscular followed her gaze to the stars. It was the silly little dream of a silly little filly, but for some reason, she was smiling, too.
It was when Lyra started yawning again that they finally packed up to go to sleep.
“Crepuscular!” Lyra called from across the room. “Hey, Crepuscular!”
Crepuscular Illumination couldn’t afford to look up from her books. “We’re in a library, Lyra.”
“Right, sorry.” Lyra set down her saddlebags and sat down on the chair in that weird way of hers. “Did you hear about that new girl? The one Celestia made her personal proto… proti—her personal student?”
Of course she had heard. There probably wasn’t a single pony in the school—maybe all of Canterlot—who hadn’t heard the news. It was a pretty big deal.
Twilight Sparkle. Crepuscular thought the name was a little weird, but then again, who was she to judge?
“What about her?” Crepuscular kept her eyes glued to the pages in front of her.
“I have her in some of my classes,” Lyra said. “She’s, like, super-smart, but she’s also really shy. Did you know she got her cutie mark during her entrance exam?”
“I heard.” Crepuscular brought her hooves to her temples as she tried to settle her obligations as Lyra’s tutor and her need to cram for her Biology exam.
“I wish I had a cool cutie mark story,” Lyra said wistfully.
Crepuscular finally looked up from her notes. “What do you mean? How’d you get your cutie mark?”
“I can play the lyre with my magic, and even a little bit with my hooves.” Lyra shrugged a little. “I’m pretty good, I guess, but I just randomly got my cutie mark one day while I was playing. I wasn’t even thinking about the music.”
Crepuscular pushed her notes away, her eyes now focused on the little filly before her. “What were you thinking about?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. Just things that made me happy, I guess.” Lyra looked off into the distance, perhaps hoping to jog her memory. “I was wondering why they made me happy, and what kinda things can make other ponies happy.”
Crepuscular smiled. “Well, Lyra, I think that’s a very cool cutie mark story.”
“Thanks,” Lyra said bashfully, just the slightest bit of pink coloring her cheeks. “What about you? How did you get your cutie mark?”
“My cutie mark?” Crepuscular twisted in her seat to look at it: two shooting stars chasing each other. She’d never considered it particularly interesting. “I got it during a Summer Sun Celebration when I was a filly. My parents brought me to stage where Princess Celestia was going to raise the sun. It was after she lowered the moon but just before she raised the sun.” A subtle warmth spread through her as the memory played in her head. “The sky looked so beautiful. It was blue and purple, like the night, but with red and orange and yellow, too, like the day. It made want to learn more about the sun, the moon, the stars—everything I could about space.”
It was Lyra’s wide smile that pulled her out of the memory and back to reality. Crepuscular matched the smile with one of her own.
“That’s how I got my cutie mark,” she finished.
Lyra giggled. “That’s a nice story, Crepuscular.”
“Heh, thanks,” Crepuscular said, rubbing the back of her neck. “C’mon, take your notes out. You’ve got an exam coming up.”
Lyra dutifully pulled out her notes and textbooks as they began their next tutoring session.
“C’mon, Lyra,” Crepuscular said, trying not groan. “You gotta focus.”
“I’m trying.”
It was the night before Lyra’s exam, and their cram session wasn’t going very well. Ever since the night they nearly got caught on the roof, Crepuscular had decided that they needed to stick with the books. Now, it was like for every step Lyra took forward, she took two more back.
“You know this stuff,” Crepuscular insisted. “Which constellation was created in honor of Princess Cadance’s coronation?”
“Uh… Cancer?”
“No.”
“Ophiucus?”
“No.”
“…The Big Dipper?”
Crepuscular slammed her head on the table. “You—this is hopeless. What happened, Lyra? You were doing so well, and now…” She looked up and saw Lyra trying to curl in on herself. Crepuscular bit her lip and closed her eyes. “Lyra, if you can’t pass Astronomy, then… I can’t attend Celestia’s school anymore.”
“Wh-what?”
So Crepuscular told Lyra the whole story. How she was barely passing her classes, the arrangement Princess Celestia had made with her, the reason Lyra had her as a tutor in the first place—all of it.
“And I’ve been spending so much time helping you that my grades have barely gone anywhere at all.”
Lyra didn’t know where to look, so she chose to stare at the notes in front of her.
“I’m sorry, Crepuscular,” she said, pressing her head against the table. “But I can’t study this way. They all just… look like… dots.”
Crepsucular sighed. She didn’t know what else she could do. Her horn began to glow as she summoned her magic.
“Lyra,” she said softly. “Open your eyes.”
Lyra peeked an eye open and sat up in shock.
All around them, little balls of light spun in a great cosmic dance. The balls of light clustered together and lines appeared to connect them to one another.
“There’s Orion!” Lyra said, pointing to it with a hoof.
“That’s right,” Crepuscular said softly. “Do you know what this one is?” Another constellation drifted over to the little.
“That’s… Canis, right?”
“‘Canis’ what?”
“Canis… Minor!” Lyra said with a smile.
“Very good.”
“Wow…” Lyra said in disbelief. “This is amazing!”
“It’s just Light Manipulation,” Crepuscular said casually. “You know, third-year stuff.”
“No way. This is the coolest thing ever!”
The magic surrounding her horn flared as Crepuscular brought a small constellation forward. “Do you know what this one is called?”
Lyra stared at it, but shook her head.
Crepuscular gave her a gentle smile. “It’s called ‘Lyra’.”
“Really?” A familiar sparkle filled her eyes as she looked at it again. “It’s so pretty.”
“You think you can study this way?”
Lyra nodded enthusiastically.
“Okay,” Crepuscular said, bringing a different constellation around. “Which constellation is this, and who designed it?”
Lyra’s retention and number of correct answers skyrocketed, but Crepuscular could only maintain her magic for so long. Confident that Lyra knew what she would need for her test, Crepuscular decided to bring their session to an end. The two began packing up their things.
“Hey, Crepuscular?”
“Yes?”
“How is it you’re grades are bad when you can do magic like that?”
“I just… I don’t know.” Crepuscular let out a sigh. “I think I…”
Lyra waited for her to continue.
“…I think I lost my spark a while ago.” Crepuscular finally said. “I’ve been looking for it ever since.”
“Crepuscular—look, look!” Lyra said, holding up her exam. “I got a B! Minus!”
“Good job, Lyra,” Crepuscular said with a smile. “I knew you could do it.” If Lyra could maintain grades like these, she’d be able to comfortably pass her Astronomy class.
“And I’ve been practicing something else, too.”
Crepuscular tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
Lyra stuck her tongue in concentration as a golden glow surrounded her horn. A tiny ball of light appeared between the two of them.
“Remember how you said you lost your spark and that’s why your grades aren’t so good?” Lyra said while trying to keep her magic steady. “Well, I thought maybe I could make one for you.”
Crepuscular Illumination was at a complete loss for words.
She settled for hugging the little filly, instead.
“Welcome back, Miss Illumination,” Princess Celestia said.
Crepuscular took a seat and waited for her to continue.
“We’re here to discuss how our little arrangement is going.” Princess Celestia eyed her for a moment. “Unfortunately, it seems your grades have seen little change.”
“I know, Princess, but—” A held hoof by the Princess was quick to silence her.
“Miss Heartstrings’ Astronomy grades, however, have seen remarkable improvement,” she continued with a smile. “Naturally, we approached her and asked her to perform a little… evaluation of your work as a tutor.”
Crepuscular swallowed hard.
“It seems that she considers you to be an excellent tutor,” Princess Celestia said with a smile, “one that she would recommend to anypony who finds themselves struggling with Astronomy.”
Crepuscular let out the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.
“I am freeing you of your obligations as a tutor so that you may focus on improving your own grades,” the Princess concluded.
“Um, actually, Princess?” Crepuscular said quietly. “I wouldn’t mind staying a tutor, if that’s okay. I’ll work on my own grades—I promise I will—but I…” Crepuscular tried to find the words. “I really like teaching other ponies.”
Princess Celestia smiled. Crepuscular Illumination was a very bright student, indeed.
She simply needed to find her spark.
Actually, the gates of Tartarus aren’t that far from here. A few hours on a train, a couple more hours of walking…
“Miss Illumination,” Princess Celestia said. “Are you listening?”
“Uh, yes, Princess.” Crepuscular Illumination quickly straightened up.
“Your grades are starting to concern me,” Princess Celestia continued. “I know you are a very bright student, but your grades have been slipping in nearly all of your classes.”
It was true. Crepuscular was in the half of the student body that made the top-half possible. It wasn’t so much that she was lazy.
…Actually, that sums it up pretty well. She hadn’t been doing her assigned work in most of her classes, and her grades had taken a turn for the worse because of it.
“Is there anything I can do?” Crepuscular looked around nervously. “I mean, do I still have time to fix this?”
Princess Celestia’s expression shifted to one of thoughtful consideration. “We do offer a tutorship program.”
“I don’t think a tutor will be able to help me.”
“You misunderstand.” Princess Celestia smiled as the idea fell together in her head. “You continue to make remarkable grades in your Astronomy classes. I would like you to become a tutor.”
“Me?” A student skirting the edge between passing and failing hardly seemed qualified to be a tutor. “I’m sorry, Princess, but are you sure?”
Princess Celestia merely smiled and nodded in that princess-y way of hers. “I’ve always held that it is the connections between ponies that this school makes that truly matter. If you can learn to help your fellow students, I think that would be a very worthwhile lesson, indeed.”
“Well…” Crepuscular said hesitantly, “if you think it’s a good idea, then okay. I’ll give it a shot.”
Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Princess Celestia rose from her seat. “Then it is decided: you shall continue your studies in this school while serving as a tutor.” A more serious glint appeared in her eyes. “Though I do expect to see improvement in your other classes, as well.”
Crepuscular winced, but nodded. “Don’t worry, Princess. I won’t mess this up.”
Crepuscular Illumination sat alone in the library, mindless twirling a quill around in her magic. Being under “special circumstances” meant that, rather than having students sign up to be tutored by her, she was assigned a specific student, and if her guess was any good, it’d be the one who needed the most help.
“Whoever they are,” Crepuscular said to herself, “the first thing they need to learn is how to arrive on time.”
To be perfectly honest, it’d hadn’t been that long, but Crepuscular wasn’t exactly looking forward to this, either. She wasn’t the most social of butterflies, and she’d be the first to admit that she didn’t know the first thing about being a tutor. What could she possibly teach this student if a professor couldn’t get through to them?
The sound of rapid hoofsteps pulled Crepuscular out of her thoughts. She turned in time to see a pony come around the corner, panting and looking around nervously. She looked like a first-year filly, with a mint-green coat and a mane to match.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re still here,” she said as she ran over. “I’m so, so sorry I’m late.” She dropped her saddlebags and took a seat. “This place is so big, and I still don’t really know my way around. I’ve never even been in this part of the school.”
Definitely a first-year.
Crepuscular looked the little filly up and down. “I’m guessing you’re the pony I’m supposed to tutor?”
She nodded feverishly. “My name’s Lyra. Lyra Heartstrings.”
“I’m Crepuscular Illumination.”
“Crepiscu… Cr-Cripusci—Can I call you ‘Creppy’?” she asked with a sheepish smile.
“No.”
“‘Loomy’?”
“No.”
Lyra tapped her hooves nervously.
“…‘Crep-a-loom’?”
“No.” Crepuscular said flatly. “My name is Crepuscular Illumination. If you can’t handle pronouncing that, then you’re going to a tough time lasting in this school.”
“Oh…” Lyra’s eyes fell to the floor.
Crepuscular shook her head and sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just nervous about this whole tutor thing.”
“It’s okay,” Lyra said softly. “I’m nervous, too.” The little filly slowly started to relax.
“Okay, I’m supposed to tutor you in Astronomy.” Crepuscular said. “What are you struggling with? History? Theory? Applications in Magic? Divination?”
Lyra gave her a great big smile.
“All of it.”
There was an impressive thud as Crepuscular’s head struck the table.
“Great…”
Tutoring Lyra was beginning to feel a full-time job to Crepuscular Illumination, and with the additional struggle of trying to catch up in her other classes, her stress levels had reached greater heights than ever before. She was rubbing her temples during one of their tutoring sessions while Lyra combed through her textbooks.
“Okay,” Crepuscular said, trying to keep her voice even, “let’s try this again. On the eve of the one-hundredth Summer Sun Celebration, the Council of Wizards created a new constellation in the night sky to commemorate the event. Which constellation was it?”
“Uh…” Lyra flipped through her textbooks, hoping to find the answer. “Was it… Aquarius?”
“It was Cygnus.”
Lyra blankly stared at her. “That’s the duck one, right?”
“Cygnus is a swan,” Crepuscular said, dragging a hoof down her face. “How about this: Starwind the Bright designed two of the constellations still in the night sky today. Can you name them?”
“Um…” Lyra bit her lip as she continued flipping through her book. “Um…”
“C’mon, Lyra,” Crepuscular said with a sigh. “We went over this a few days ago.”
The little filly stared up at her, waiting for the answer.
Crepuscular shook her head slowly. “They are Pegasus and Equuleus. She designed the first one after her husband—a pegasus—and the second after their son. That’s why they’re still around today. Princess Celestia was so impressed by her love and devotion to her family that she decreed that those constellations would always be a part of our nighttime sky.”
“Oh, yeah,” Lyra said quietly.
“You know what? Enough of the history books.” Crepuscular levitated her bags onto her back. “Meet me on the roof tonight two hours after sunset.”
Crepuscular Illumination was browsing through her Literature notes with the help of a nearby candle when the familiar sound of hurried hoofsteps arrived on the roof.
“You’re late again,” she said without looking up.
“I know, I’m sorry.” Lyra set her bags down and took a seat next to her. “I’ve never been up here before, so I wasn’t sure how to get here.”
“Well, you’re here now,” Crepuscular said, putting her notes away. “Let’s get started.”
Lyra let out a little yawn. “Why’d I have to come out here so late, anyway?”
Crepuscular pointed to the telescope she set up earlier. “We’re going to study the stars the old-fashioned way: by looking at them.”
Lyra looked on in curiosity as Crepuscular adjusted the telescope and peered through it.
“Take out one of your star charts,” Crepuscular instructed. “See if you can tell me which constellation this is.”
Lyra quickly pulled out a chart and looked through the telescope. After a few moments of going back and forth between the two, she hung her head in defeat.
“I-I can’t really tell,” she said slowly.
“Here, look.” Crepuscular traced her hoof along the star chart. “I have it pointed at Libra. Try to find the three stars that make this triangle, and these two stars below it.”
Lyra resumed her back-and-forth between the chart and the telescope.
“I think I can see it,” she finally said.
“Alright,” Crepuscular said, walking up to the telescope. “On to the next one.” She brought her eye to the piece and slowly adjusted it until she was satisfied with its position. Once done, she stepped aside and invited Lyra to look.
Lyra considered the view in the telescope more thoughtful than before and studied her star chart with narrowed eyes. Crepuscular was prepared to give her the answer again until an unexpected sight stopped her in her tracks.
Lyra’s eyes shot open as she looked between the telescope and chart in excitement.
“Is it this one?!” she said, feverishly pointing at a constellation on the chart. “‘M-Monokeras’?”
Crepuscular smiled. “Well, it’s pronounced ‘Monoceros’ for the constellation, but yeah—it’s that one.”
“Really?” Lyra was absolutely beaming. “I got it right? I got it right!” She started jumping up and down like the giddy little filly she was.
“Okay, okay,” Crepuscular said, trying to calm her down. “Good job, seriously, but you gotta keep it down.”
Lyra stopped and looked at her curiously. “Are we not supposed to be up here?”
“Uh, sort of?” Crepuscular gave her sheepish grin. “It’s just better if we don’t get caught, okay?”
Lyra nodded and made a zipping motion across her lips. Time continued to pass as Crepuscular would adjust the telescope and Lyra would try to identify the constellation. Most of the time Lyra would need help, but the few that she got on her own were always a reason to celebration.
“Hey, Lyra?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve got some studying of my own to do.” Crepuscular levitated her notes from her saddlebags. “You can pack up and go to sleep, if you want.”
Lyra shuffled on her hooves. “Is it okay if I stay here? I kinda wanna keep looking.”
“Seriously?”
“Uh-huh. It’s way better than looking at it in a book.” Lyra nodded to herself. “I’ll try not to bother you, so can I stay?”
Thinking it over, Crepuscular eventually shrugged. “I guess you can stay for a little while.”
Lyra smiled and peered through the telescope, adjusting it to look at a new part of the night sky. Crepuscular had barely started reading her notes when Lyra started bouncing in excitement.
“Ooh, ooh! Crepuscular, look!” She pointed at the telescope with a broad smile on her face. “I found Orion!”
So much for not being bothered. Crepuscular set her notes back down and went over to the telescope. Looking through it, she confirmed that the constellation was, indeed, Orion.
“Nice work, Lyra.”
“It’s my favorite constellation!” Lyra said with a nod.
“Makes sense,” Crepuscular said with a shrug. “It’s pretty easy to identify.”
“That’s not why it’s my favorite,” Lyra said, smiling. “It’s my favorite ‘cause it’s based on a human. My daddy used to tell me stories about humans all the time.”
“What’s the big deal about humans?” Crepuscular asked. “They’re mythological creatures. Somepony a long time ago just made them up for stories, like ghosts or the Boogeypony.”
Lyra shook her head. “My daddy said he met humans once, and he told me all sorts of things about them, like the clothes they wear and the way they sit.” She looked up at Orion, a dreamy sparkle in her eyes. “I really want to meet a human someday. That’d be the best day ever.”
Crepuscular followed her gaze to the stars. It was the silly little dream of a silly little filly, but for some reason, she was smiling, too.
It was when Lyra started yawning again that they finally packed up to go to sleep.
“Crepuscular!” Lyra called from across the room. “Hey, Crepuscular!”
Crepuscular Illumination couldn’t afford to look up from her books. “We’re in a library, Lyra.”
“Right, sorry.” Lyra set down her saddlebags and sat down on the chair in that weird way of hers. “Did you hear about that new girl? The one Celestia made her personal proto… proti—her personal student?”
Of course she had heard. There probably wasn’t a single pony in the school—maybe all of Canterlot—who hadn’t heard the news. It was a pretty big deal.
Twilight Sparkle. Crepuscular thought the name was a little weird, but then again, who was she to judge?
“What about her?” Crepuscular kept her eyes glued to the pages in front of her.
“I have her in some of my classes,” Lyra said. “She’s, like, super-smart, but she’s also really shy. Did you know she got her cutie mark during her entrance exam?”
“I heard.” Crepuscular brought her hooves to her temples as she tried to settle her obligations as Lyra’s tutor and her need to cram for her Biology exam.
“I wish I had a cool cutie mark story,” Lyra said wistfully.
Crepuscular finally looked up from her notes. “What do you mean? How’d you get your cutie mark?”
“I can play the lyre with my magic, and even a little bit with my hooves.” Lyra shrugged a little. “I’m pretty good, I guess, but I just randomly got my cutie mark one day while I was playing. I wasn’t even thinking about the music.”
Crepuscular pushed her notes away, her eyes now focused on the little filly before her. “What were you thinking about?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. Just things that made me happy, I guess.” Lyra looked off into the distance, perhaps hoping to jog her memory. “I was wondering why they made me happy, and what kinda things can make other ponies happy.”
Crepuscular smiled. “Well, Lyra, I think that’s a very cool cutie mark story.”
“Thanks,” Lyra said bashfully, just the slightest bit of pink coloring her cheeks. “What about you? How did you get your cutie mark?”
“My cutie mark?” Crepuscular twisted in her seat to look at it: two shooting stars chasing each other. She’d never considered it particularly interesting. “I got it during a Summer Sun Celebration when I was a filly. My parents brought me to stage where Princess Celestia was going to raise the sun. It was after she lowered the moon but just before she raised the sun.” A subtle warmth spread through her as the memory played in her head. “The sky looked so beautiful. It was blue and purple, like the night, but with red and orange and yellow, too, like the day. It made want to learn more about the sun, the moon, the stars—everything I could about space.”
It was Lyra’s wide smile that pulled her out of the memory and back to reality. Crepuscular matched the smile with one of her own.
“That’s how I got my cutie mark,” she finished.
Lyra giggled. “That’s a nice story, Crepuscular.”
“Heh, thanks,” Crepuscular said, rubbing the back of her neck. “C’mon, take your notes out. You’ve got an exam coming up.”
Lyra dutifully pulled out her notes and textbooks as they began their next tutoring session.
“C’mon, Lyra,” Crepuscular said, trying not groan. “You gotta focus.”
“I’m trying.”
It was the night before Lyra’s exam, and their cram session wasn’t going very well. Ever since the night they nearly got caught on the roof, Crepuscular had decided that they needed to stick with the books. Now, it was like for every step Lyra took forward, she took two more back.
“You know this stuff,” Crepuscular insisted. “Which constellation was created in honor of Princess Cadance’s coronation?”
“Uh… Cancer?”
“No.”
“Ophiucus?”
“No.”
“…The Big Dipper?”
Crepuscular slammed her head on the table. “You—this is hopeless. What happened, Lyra? You were doing so well, and now…” She looked up and saw Lyra trying to curl in on herself. Crepuscular bit her lip and closed her eyes. “Lyra, if you can’t pass Astronomy, then… I can’t attend Celestia’s school anymore.”
“Wh-what?”
So Crepuscular told Lyra the whole story. How she was barely passing her classes, the arrangement Princess Celestia had made with her, the reason Lyra had her as a tutor in the first place—all of it.
“And I’ve been spending so much time helping you that my grades have barely gone anywhere at all.”
Lyra didn’t know where to look, so she chose to stare at the notes in front of her.
“I’m sorry, Crepuscular,” she said, pressing her head against the table. “But I can’t study this way. They all just… look like… dots.”
Crepsucular sighed. She didn’t know what else she could do. Her horn began to glow as she summoned her magic.
“Lyra,” she said softly. “Open your eyes.”
Lyra peeked an eye open and sat up in shock.
All around them, little balls of light spun in a great cosmic dance. The balls of light clustered together and lines appeared to connect them to one another.
“There’s Orion!” Lyra said, pointing to it with a hoof.
“That’s right,” Crepuscular said softly. “Do you know what this one is?” Another constellation drifted over to the little.
“That’s… Canis, right?”
“‘Canis’ what?”
“Canis… Minor!” Lyra said with a smile.
“Very good.”
“Wow…” Lyra said in disbelief. “This is amazing!”
“It’s just Light Manipulation,” Crepuscular said casually. “You know, third-year stuff.”
“No way. This is the coolest thing ever!”
The magic surrounding her horn flared as Crepuscular brought a small constellation forward. “Do you know what this one is called?”
Lyra stared at it, but shook her head.
Crepuscular gave her a gentle smile. “It’s called ‘Lyra’.”
“Really?” A familiar sparkle filled her eyes as she looked at it again. “It’s so pretty.”
“You think you can study this way?”
Lyra nodded enthusiastically.
“Okay,” Crepuscular said, bringing a different constellation around. “Which constellation is this, and who designed it?”
Lyra’s retention and number of correct answers skyrocketed, but Crepuscular could only maintain her magic for so long. Confident that Lyra knew what she would need for her test, Crepuscular decided to bring their session to an end. The two began packing up their things.
“Hey, Crepuscular?”
“Yes?”
“How is it you’re grades are bad when you can do magic like that?”
“I just… I don’t know.” Crepuscular let out a sigh. “I think I…”
Lyra waited for her to continue.
“…I think I lost my spark a while ago.” Crepuscular finally said. “I’ve been looking for it ever since.”
“Crepuscular—look, look!” Lyra said, holding up her exam. “I got a B! Minus!”
“Good job, Lyra,” Crepuscular said with a smile. “I knew you could do it.” If Lyra could maintain grades like these, she’d be able to comfortably pass her Astronomy class.
“And I’ve been practicing something else, too.”
Crepuscular tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
Lyra stuck her tongue in concentration as a golden glow surrounded her horn. A tiny ball of light appeared between the two of them.
“Remember how you said you lost your spark and that’s why your grades aren’t so good?” Lyra said while trying to keep her magic steady. “Well, I thought maybe I could make one for you.”
Crepuscular Illumination was at a complete loss for words.
She settled for hugging the little filly, instead.
“Welcome back, Miss Illumination,” Princess Celestia said.
Crepuscular took a seat and waited for her to continue.
“We’re here to discuss how our little arrangement is going.” Princess Celestia eyed her for a moment. “Unfortunately, it seems your grades have seen little change.”
“I know, Princess, but—” A held hoof by the Princess was quick to silence her.
“Miss Heartstrings’ Astronomy grades, however, have seen remarkable improvement,” she continued with a smile. “Naturally, we approached her and asked her to perform a little… evaluation of your work as a tutor.”
Crepuscular swallowed hard.
“It seems that she considers you to be an excellent tutor,” Princess Celestia said with a smile, “one that she would recommend to anypony who finds themselves struggling with Astronomy.”
Crepuscular let out the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.
“I am freeing you of your obligations as a tutor so that you may focus on improving your own grades,” the Princess concluded.
“Um, actually, Princess?” Crepuscular said quietly. “I wouldn’t mind staying a tutor, if that’s okay. I’ll work on my own grades—I promise I will—but I…” Crepuscular tried to find the words. “I really like teaching other ponies.”
Princess Celestia smiled. Crepuscular Illumination was a very bright student, indeed.
She simply needed to find her spark.