Canterlot Academy For Pets

The rest of the tour was relatively uneventful. The foals were made aware of the other buildings within the school such as the sports gym, which had a large swimming pool, and the arts rooms, where one could find equipment for almost any artistic endeavour they wanted to pursue. They were also taken past the library, which was bigger than any Script had ever seen in her life, making her ecstatic to get inside and read all that she could.

Finally, the tour finished outside the school hall. “We’re going to be heading into your first assembly,” Mister Crop chimed. “Remember, you only get to go on the playground if you’re good. So stay nice and quiet once you take your seats, okay sweethearts?” He asked.

“Yes Mister Crop…” The slightly disgruntled fillies replied. How were they supposed to talk to their friends about how excited they were to be going to school if the stupid grown-ups were talking over them?

“Good!” He nodded. “I’ll lead you in soon so just talk amongst yourselves for a moment.”

There was no protest. Everypony burst into conversation almost instantly. There was so much to discuss about; like the classrooms, to the dungeons, or to the playground, which was by far the best any filly had ever laid eyes upon.

The only foal not shouting over everypony else was Script, who stood awkwardly trying and failing to start conversations.

How was she supposed to make friends when everypony else wouldn’t even give her a second look?

She couldn’t contemplate long on how best to make friends, as the sound of a loud fanfare suddenly burst forth from the open doors of the hall.

Mister Crop retook his position at the front of the group, motioning for the fillies to follow along behind him before trotting up the short steps and into the hall.

The group followed him closely, their eyes widening as they looked around the impressive auditorium.

It was spacious, with row upon row of chairs filled with foals of all ages on either side of the pathway that Script and the other first years made their way down. Their teacher led them to the front of the seating area, where they were instructed to file into the two rows of empty seats on the left.

The room was filled with a soft purple light, illuminating each smiling face as the room filled with the boom of the horns and drums from the orchestra positioned in front of the large stage that dominated the end of the hall.

Script was one of the first to sit down, landing her at the very front so she could look up at the extravagant stage in front of her.

At the back of the stage were more seats, this time filled with grown up ponies in suits and ties who looked over the crowd proudly.

A lectern was visible in front of the adults, made of mahogany wood with the school’s crest displayed in a lighter material on the front.

The stage appeared to have been extended, with a slightly lower tier added to the front of the main stage, hosting even more seats with ponies in sharp, proper suits and refined, pretty dresses. These ponies were considerably younger than those seated behind them, obviously students of the school.

Script inspected the stage for a moment longer before realising that the fanfare hadn’t stopped playing and another group of students were to make their way down the aisle. Another group of first years, obviously from the other dorm building on the opposite side of the school.

They took a seat in the empty rows on the right side of the hall, the final triumphant tones of the fanfare sounded through the room.

The room was silent for a moment before a young pony in a well kept dress took her place in front of the lectern, looking proudly over the hall. Script recognised her as one of the senior school’s head fillies as documented in one of the many leaflets of information her parents had been given to go over after her acceptance.

“Please stand for Principal Paine!” She called, using a quick spell to amplify her voice across the expansive hall.

The room bustled quietly as everypony within stood up, the first years being the last to stand as they realised what they were meant to do, quickly bouncing to their hooves to try fit in with all the older ponies around them.

As they rose from their seats an older stallion took the teenager’s place, nodding as he called, “Please be seated.”

The auditorium filled with sound once again as every seat was filled simultaneously.

“Hello everypony, and welcome to another year at the Canterlot Academy for Pets!” The principal’s voice seemed to fill the room, as if it were emanating from the walls themselves. “I know most of you have probably had quite the journey here from wherever it is you have travelled from, so I’ll keep this short!”

The principal stood proudly in front of the students, adjusting his tie a little with his magic as he confidently continued his speech, “I’d like to specially welcome our new students, who bring new ideas and fresh faces to the school every year. I hope you will find your time at school as exciting as I do, and that you’ll put your best effort into learning everything you can; but remember, you are all still young. Take your time and don’t rush into anything. That goes for all of you younger students, not just the first years!”

“As headmaster of the school, I am honored with the responsibility of reminding everypony why we teach what we teach,” He explained, some of the older students sat at the back of the hall groaning with boredom already. “The process of herding has been a part of Equestrian culture from before we even knew to call it Equestrian society, but herding was a violent, distressing and highly one-sided ordeal!”

Script paid extremely close attention to the speech, eager to learn everything and anything she could about her new school.

“When our lovely princesses revolutionised the way we governed and composed ourselves, becoming the rulers they are today, they noticed an alarming amount of colts and fillies just like all of you who were being taken advantage of,” He continued. “So instead of simply outlawing the practice altogether, like so many rulers of other countries before them, they elected to create a system to educate prospective pets on how to properly handle themselves as humble lovers to masters everywhere. This school was the first of many in this new system, which is one of the longest-standing and most well-known Equestrian traditions, drawing creatures of all races from all over Equus to learn alongside us!”

He paused, “In fact, this year, we’re celebrating the diverse backgrounds that everypony here at the Academy has to offer, with the addition of dear Cross Stitch here to my growing herd, all the way from Saddle Arabia!” He continued, pointing to the three mares that sat at the front of the extended stage.

Script hadn’t noticed them before, having been far too preoccupied with marvelling at the sheer size and majesty of the hall she was sitting in to notice who was sitting in it with her.

She took in the three ponies’ appearances, each one unique in their own special ways.

The first one, on the far right, was obviously the saddle arabian. Her facial features were considerably thinner than Equestrian ones and she wore a traditional Saddle Arabian jewel crown; a silver one studded with vibrant red and blue gemstones, contrasting her sandy coat and deep hazel eyes. Her collar matched the styling of the crown, hosting a series of jewels of a similar cut and color to the crown resting upon her head.

The second, in the middle of the three mares was a maid. Script was used to seeing her type of clothing, coming from a family who consistently produced maids and butlers. The mare wore a typical Prench maid’s outfit, rather tame for Script’s liking as it covered most of her body and left quite a bit to the imagination, nothing like her mother’s uniform, which really served as nothing more than fetish fuel (well, that’s what her father called it, anyways). Her collar also matched the style of her outfit, being jet black.

The third mare, however, was the most interesting to Script. She wore no special ethnic decorations like the first mare, nor a full outfit, but was simply bare. It was not what she was or was not wearing which made her special to the filly, but the noticeable bulge in her belly.

She was a broodmare.

Her green mane was messy, like she hadn’t slept very well in a while. Her coat was not nearly as smooth or shiny as the other mares, and her collar was considerably looser around her neck.

Yet still, it seemed to Script as though her smile lit up the room, more so than the two mares before her. Her eyes were bright and full of life and love and she rubbed her belly periodically as if to tell the foal growing inside her how happy she was to have him or her there.

The filly thought about how nice it must be, sitting around just waiting for the big day when you become a mother to your own foal to raise and care for.

And yet, there was the issue of her family, who she knew was counting on her to become the best maid the family had ever produced. They wouldn’t stop talking about it in the months leading up to her departure and she was sure she was going to make them proud!

But in that moment, she wasn’t so enthused.

“And that’s why I am so proud to introduce our chairpony, Princess Luna!” Principal Paine’s voice only barely registered in Script’s mind, the words only processing once the sound of the orchestra started to ring through the room once again while everypony rose from their seats.

Script hurriedly shot to her hooves, her face flushed red as she realised she was the last pony in her group to stand by a considerable margin. Her earlier dilemma was pushed from her mind, replaced with her mild embarrassment, followed by the awestruck feeling brought about by the dark blue alicorn who proudly strode down the aisle, rising into the air with one stroke of her majestic wings.

The princess gracefully floated down onto the stage, taking her place in front of the lectern to speak.

She stood silently as the room waited with baited breath to hear what their Princess had to say.

One second passed, then five, then ten. Still no sound.

She closed her eyes for a moment before her face took on a look of frightened confidence.

“Students of the academy!” Came the booming sound of her Royal Canterlot Voice, her face going from a dark blue to a deep red as she realised her mistake.

Most of younger students sat at the front of the hall quivered with fear, Script included. The princess of the night was scary in real life, nothing like what her parents had told her; that she was no longer the scary and evil nightmare moon that had been portrayed in fables and legends and had changed.

She had believed them when they told her, but now that the princess was standing in front of her, shouting at her with such a cold tone? She wasn’t so sure.

The princess paused once again, regaining her composure as she reminded herself to use her inside voice. “I-I apologise…” She said in a calmer, considerably more manageable tone, “I haven’t been the chairpony of this school for over a thousand years, and much has changed since I have been absent…” She explained.

Script and a handful of the other foals calmed when hearing her voice, which had lost its volume and harshness, rather by a motherly kindness that told them they were in good hooves.

“So in a way, you are not the only ponies at this school who are learning as I too am relearning how to be the best chairpony to the school my sister tried so hard to keep alive despite the fact that every day here must only have served to remind her of…” She trailed off, turning from the lectern as the headmaster rushed to her side, whispering in her ear before waiting for her reply, assumedly about whether she was becoming too overwhelmed.

Luna shook her head, turning back to the podium to continue her speech, “I hope that we can all enjoy learning together and I am very excited to retake my seat at the head of the Academy” She stated, the nerves from earlier all but gone. “I promise to carry the legacy that I, and now my sister, have created into further greatness with all of you.” She finished, before bowing her head and adding a polite, “Thank you.”

The hall was completely soundless, as if time had simply decided to stand still until somepony in the crowd began to clap their hooves together, at which point the whole auditorium broke into a cacophony of clapping and chatter, even the scared fillies being impressed with her lack of scary-ness.

By the time the clapping died down, Script had all but forgotten about the mares sitting at the front of the stage and paid full attention to the rest of the assembly.

There were many different speakers, including the head of the board of trustees, the deputy principal and the head students for the year, who told plenty of jokes to keep their audience interested.

Alas, fillies of Script’s age cannot sit still for very long at all, and they started to get restless, the image of the playground still fresh in their minds.

It seemed the principal knew this as he looked directly at the first years sitting in front of him and chose to finally conclude the assembly.

“Now, I’m sure a lot of you are itching to get out of this stuffy place and enjoy catching up with your friends, so I’ll finish the assembly by reminding you all that your first class starts at 9:40 sharp tomorrow Be sure to get to bed nice and early so you’re ready to meet your new teachers and peers with full energy! Your teachers will see you out.” He said, starting to turn from the stand before remembering something and quickly turning back. “Oh and students, welcome to the Academy!” He called before turning away from the lectern.

The room instantly burst into life, everypony restlessly sitting in their seats and waiting to be let go.

The sound of the orchestra joined the noise as it played another rousing fanfare, continuing to play as Mister Crop and the other teachers trotted over to stand in front of Script and the other foals, motioning for them to rise and leave the hall. The fillies were happy to oblige as they filed out of the hall and into the courtyard outside.

The teacher led them away, back towards the central courtyard they had all become familiar with over the course of the tour. He came to a stop just before the playground, making the gaggle of fillies who he turned to face incredibly restless.

“Now, don’t be afraid to explore a little, your room keys have tracking spells on them so you won’t get lost, though I’m betting that most of you won’t go very far.” He said, noticing more and more foals losing interest in his words.

Script realised something as he spoke, however, she’d left her key in her room!

She scolded herself for making such a silly mistake, but figured that she wouldn’t go far enough that she’d need the tracking spell anyways, as she’d be using her time on the playground to make friends with everypony!

“Before we let you go: no pushing, no fighting, and remember to share. If any one of you is naughty, you’ll be ruining it for everyone. you have forty-five minutes before we’re going back to the dorms. Now, without further ado, go have fun!” Crop called, prompting a sound, Script quickly following along as she searched for somepony to make friends with.

Unfortunately, much like the dungeons, everypony seemed to have their own friend groups, not mingling with other factions as they marked their territory on the playground.

Not to be disheartened, Script decided to rethink her strategy for friend-making. She thought back to her experience in the dungeons, trying to think about what responses the others had to her attempts to befriend them.

They seemed to be against her coming to them, so she figured maybe she just had to wait for them to come to her!

She chose a part of the playground where everypony could see her but was decidedly out of everypony’s way and stood, waiting for somepony to approach her.

Despite being available, she wanted to look approachable, and gave her widest, friendliest smile to anypony who passed her, surely no one could resist talking to her then!

“Hey, that filly over there’s super creepy, right?” Script heard somepony say, though in the crowd of ponies lining up to use the equipment she couldn’t tell who.

“Yeah, I mean who just stands there and smiles without even using the playground, that’s super weird.” Script got a general idea of who it was, looking over in the direction of the long slide to her left, which had a line almost as long as the slide itself leading up to it as foals queued to use it.

The conversation she was hearing came from two ponies in the line who stared at her with disgust in their eyes as they moved down the line, talking about her in a not-so-discreet way.

After they realised they’d been caught, they turned away, looking in the opposite direction as their faces flushed red.

‘They’re right, what’s the point of being on the playground if I’m not playing!’ Script thought, rushing over to join the line for the slide.

She joined the line for the slide, finding it to move incredibly quickly as most of it’s occupants left as she arrived.

Did they leave just because of her?

“H-Hi!” She said to the pony in front of her, who quickly left the line with her friend, leaving Script at the front of the line.

Suddenly, the slide seemed a lot less appealing to the filly, who sighed and left the playground. It seemed she was just scaring ponies away instead of making friends with them!

Maybe they’d warm up to her in class after spending time with her. For now, she decided to wait patiently. Her mother always told her that good things come with time, after all.

She wandered into one of the large grassy fields around the courtyard, which had a small forest of oak trees planted, casting a shadow on the ground with their large, green-tipped branches.

Climbing things had always been a gift for the hyperactive filly, and those trees were just begging to be climbed.

Besides, it seemed like she was going to have to play alone for today, being that she scared the others away for whatever reason.

‘Why are they so mean to me anyways,’ She thought as she hoisted herself into the tree without much effort at all, climbing higher and higher as she lost herself in her thought, ‘I’ve never even met them, let alone done anything to make them not like me!’

Her thoughts reverberated through her mind as she climbed the tree, her hooves idly taking her higher than she’d ever been before.

She found a thick branch to sit on, making herself comfortable as she lent against the strong trunk of the tree and peering through the leaves and out over the field to the playground where everypony else was playing without her, making her frown more and more as she watched and

feeling a pang of jealousy in her belly.

The filly yawned, leaning back in the tree and looking in a different direction as the rush of excitement the tour gave her drained from her small body, her lack of sleep from earlier catching up with her as she relaxed.

She didn’t know when she fell asleep, only that when she awoke it was considerably darker than she remembered. She looked back at the playground, finding it desolate, not a single pony was in sight, teacher or student.

Script was alone.

‘Well, that’s not an issue, I’ll just climb down and make my way back!’ Script thought, shifting so her hooves hung over the side of the branch she was sitting on.

The grassy ground seemed much further away from her than it seemed as she was climbing up the tree.

As she stared, the ground seemed to retreat away from her. An intense fear rising in her throat as she thought about the possibility of falling from such a height.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she imagined spending the whole night in the tree, and even then, what would happen the next day, would she just stay in the tree until someone found her? What if nopony found her?

She wailed, the idea of being alone in a tree for life making the tears in her eyes run down her cheeks drip from her chin, each tiny droplet sparkling in the still dying light as it fell to the grass below her.

Her sobbing continued for what felt like eons before she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

“Script?” Came the familiar voice of a groundskeeper-turned-cabbie, Geo.

“G-Geo?” She called back, trying to work out where the voice was coming from as she looked through the leaves of the tree.

“Where are you?” The voice called back.

“I-I’m up here!” She replied, seeing him come into view not far from her tree.

Geo caught sight of her too, and quickly made his way over to her. “What are you doing over there, silly filly?” He asked, standing under the branches and looking up at her.

“I-I climbed up here and fell asleep and now I c-can’t get down!” She sobbed back.

Geo chuckled, shaking his head as he smiled up at her, “Okay, do you want me to help you get down? Everypony is worried for you!”

Script nodded, looking down at him with tear-blurred vision, “Y-Yes please!” She cried.

Geo effortlessly climbed from branch to branch, quickly making his way up the tree and sitting on a branch next to hers.

“Now, I’ll help you by telling you what to do, okay?” He asked before pointing to a branch a little ways down the tree on the other side of her branch, a route she’d never even thought of taking to get down, “Start there!”

Script carefully shifted her weight to the other side of the branch, reaching out with a hind leg and placing her hoof on the branch.

“Good girl, now your other hoof!” Geo instructed, prompting her to move her other leg to rest beside the first one.

Geo continued directing her until she got the hang of it herself, at which point she climbed down the rest of the way, he climbed down with her as she went, making sure to look her in the eyes as much as possible to comfort her as best he could.

After she planted all four of her hooves on the soft grass along with her adult companion, she practically threw herself into his hooves, the stallion recoiling in surprise for a moment before wrapping his forelegs around her in a tight hug.

“Good girl,” He said, patting her on the back, “you did so well to get the rest of the way all by yourself!”

“Th-Thank you Mister Geo…” Script mumbled into his soft chest fur.

“Just Geo, remember?” He reminded her, “Now how abouts we make our way back to your dorm so you can get some proper rest, okay?” He asked.

Script pulled away from the hug, wiping her tears from her eyes with a hoof. “O-Okay!” She said, waiting for him to lead her in the direction of the dorm.

Deciding to take her mind off her experience, Geo made some idle conversation by asking about various features of her tour, wisely leaving the last part of her day out of the discussion.

By the time they reached her lodgings, Script had all but forgotten about what had just happened.

Geo walked her to the front door, where the teachers who led the tour were relieved to take her off of Geo’s hooves.

“Oh my Mister Geo,” Mister Crop said, “You’ve saved us once again!”

Geo chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with a hoof, “Aw, it’s nothing, I’m just a caretaker!”

“You say that every time!” Crop replied before turning to Script, “Now Script, what do you say?”

Script suddenly remembered her manners, “Thank you Mister Geo…” She said, bowing her head respectfully.

“You’re very welcome Script, now if you don’t mind, I’m gunna go catch some shuteye myself!” He said, nodding to the teachers before turning and trotting down the steps, disappearing into the night.

After watching him leave, Mister Crop turned to Script, “Thank the sisters you’re alright!” He told her, “Now, I won’t ask you for all the details tonight, I think you need to get into bed for the night, you’ve got a big day ahead! You remember where your room is, right sweetheart?”

Script nodded, “Yes Mister Crop.”

“Good, now off to bed with you, you’ll hear the bell for breakfast at 8:30 sharp!” He instructed.

“Goodnight Mister Crop!” Script said as she made her way towards the stairs leading to the dorms.

“Goodnight, Script.” He replied with a soft chuckle.

Script climbed the stairs to her dorm, opening the still-unlocked door and stepping inside. She threw herself onto her bed, using her magic to close her blinds.

The last thing the filly saw before she fell asleep was the still immaculate bed on the opposite side of the room, untouched.

Her last thought was about the distinct crest on the bedsheets as she realised something. She thought that the alicorn on the crest was Celestia, when in fact it was Princess Luna who was represented on the blankets she lay beneath.

Surely nothing could happen to her as she slept so long as the princess of the night watched over her.

She took comfort in that thought as she flicked the lightswitch, plunging her room into darkness.