Magic Is Hard

[unrecovered]

[The best way to improve in a skill was training. Wash knew that. What he hadn't realized was that training went a lot more smoothly with someone who knew what they were doing in charge.]

[This probably explained why his attempts to practice magic in the park had been frustrating and fruitless for the past half hour. He had no experience in magic and no idea what to do - what he had was determination to master a weapon he'd need in order to fight, and a supply of patience that was beginning to run low.]

[His magic was different than most people's, he reasoned. He didn't have to start his own, like Casey, or use what was on hand, like Greg - no, his element was all around him all the time, and all he had to do was make it do what he wanted. Somehow.]

[Anyone who had been watching him for a bit may have seen sweeping and increasingly ridiculous arm motions - movements that might actually look cool if the wind was playing its part, but just came off as badly choreographed interpretive dance without it. Anyone who had been watching for quite a while may have witnessed him yelling at the sky about how one sweater-vested asshole could have at least provided a tutorial.]

Comments

[letteropener]

[Celestia watches his progress, reading his thoughts in the motions of his body and the lines of his face. He might be surprised to know how ponylike he's being; the physical form might be different, but she's seen the same tension, frustration, surprise, and relief in many students before, and she hopes many since.]

[Little surprise he and 'she' had been friends before. What difference is there between the two of them? None at all. None meaningful anyway.]

There you have it. That was very well done.

[unrecovered]

[Part of him - the part that's kept him going through hours of frustration and failure - immediately wants to argue. It's not good enough. It took him way too long. It's not usable yet - not even close. He needs to work longer and harder on it. He needs to do better - to be better. Try as he might, Freelancer still has a pretty tight grip on parts of his psyche, and it's difficult to get away from it, even years later.]

[The other part of him recognizes that he's actually accomplished something here, that he doesn't have to worry about a lack of control - just a lack of direction. That same part knows that he wouldn't have gotten this far without Celestia's help. He owes her for that.]

Thanks. For the help. I don't know that I would have figured that out on my own - at least, not without exhausting myself first.

[Speaking of which, wow is he tired. It hits him as soon as he mentions it, and he leans back further, propping his elbows against the ground. He should have expected this after trying to work on his magic for so long, but he honestly didn't think it would affect him - not until he actually figured out how to use it.]

[...except he'd just done that.]

[Yeah. He definitely needs a minute to gather himself.]

[letteropener]

[While all of those thoughts are true, Celestia would not have given a compliment if a compliment had not been earned. Trust your magic pony princess tutor, Agent Washington.]

You're quite welcome. I actually enjoyed it -- I haven't taught magic in so long, having the chance again was really very nice. I'd be happy to keep teaching you, if you are interested in learning more.

[Not now, of course. He needs rest and relaxation, as much as possible, to restore his mental energy.]

[unrecovered]

[He does trust her - he wouldn't have accepted her offer to help if he didn't. Still, it's hard for him to swallow his pride and even harder to shut up the part of him that keeps insisting he's not good enough.]

God yes. I need all the help I can get with this. What's next?

[He sits back up, ignoring the exhaustion still dragging at his limbs. He's had his time to rest; now he needs to get up and get working again. He can collapse later.]

[letteropener]

[Celestia fixes him with a firm look.] Next is that you take the necessary time to rest and recover your strength. You are exercising yourself in ways you are unaccustomed to, and much like physical exercise, you cannot push yourself past your limits without doing more harm than good.