Ash vs. Equestria: School Blaze

Chapters

Ash vs. the Pitch
Ash vs. Planning
Ash vs. Meet-and-Greets
Ash vs. Ocellus
Ash vs. the EEA
Ash vs. Ocellus, round 2
Ash vs. Neighsay
Ash vs. Friends and Family Day

Ash vs. the Pitch

One fine Summer day, two unicorns approached Twilight Sparkle’s crystalline tree castle at a dignified yet hurried pace. The first unicorn was Rarity, a rising star in the fashion industry and Bearer of the Element of Generosity. The other was Ashen Blaze, professional mercenary hero from another universe and bearer of a damaged horn encased in a cast made of teal crystal. As the pair reached the doors of the castle, Rarity noticed Ash’s breathing seemed a little strained and she stopped to put a hoof on his shoulder. “Are you quite sure you’re feeling alright, darling?” she asked.

Ash waved a hoof dismissively. “It doesn’t hurt,” he said. “I’m just not happy about the doctor’s prognosis, but I can deal with it. It’s what I do: deal with it.”

“Well,” Rarity said, “if you’re sure...” She pushed the doors open with her magic and led the way inside. They trotted briskly through the halls until they came to the great room containing the thrones of the Element Bearers and the large, round, and currently active Cutie Map. The other Element Bearers – Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and Fluttershy – were already in the room, as were Starlight Glimmer and Spike. “So sorry we’re late,” Rarity said. “Ash was in the middle of his check-up when your summons reached us, Twilight.”

“No worries, Rares,” Applejack said. “We all just arrived ourselves. How’d the doctor visit go, Ash?”

Ash blew out a frustrated sigh. “It appears that when Tempest Shadow’s magic exploded in my face, it created an internal longitudinal crack through most of the already broken-off part of my horn,” he said. “The first break would’ve healed up just fine in about a month with this nifty cast from the Crystal Empire, but the second crack’s complicated that. Best case scenario is full recovery in a year, and I’m restricted from any magic more strenuous than lifting a spoon until further notice.”

“That stinks,” Rainbow Dash said. “At least you’re not confined to a hospital bed until it’s healed, like I was when I broke my wing.”

“Good point, Dash,” Ash said, smiling faintly. “Enough about me, though. What’s the emergency with the Map?”

“It’s not an emergency,” Twilight said, “just something Starlight noticed when she came in here this morning that I thought everypony needed to see.”

Rarity, Ash, and the rest turned their full attention to the table, and it was Rarity who noticed the curious matter first. “Is the Map larger than it was before?” she asked

“Sure looks like it,” AJ said, pointing, “and it’s showing more of the world than it usually does, ‘specially all the places we went to while lookin’ for the Hippogriffs.”

“Yes,” Rarity said with faint distaste as she spotted and went over to a model of a ramshackle-looking town built on the edge of a desert cliff. “There’s that horrid town where we were almost enslaved!”

“And the sky pirates!” Rainbow exclaimed, pointing out an airship in a sea of clouds past the town.

“There’s Mount Aeris!” Pinkie said, pointing to a mountain rising from the sea near the edge of the table.

“I take it this is an unusual scope for the Map?” Ash said.

Starlight nodded. “I’ve only seen it show anything outside the kingdom of Equestria once before,” she said, “when it prompted us to build the portal mirror to your world, Ash. I wonder, could this mean the Map’s going to start sending us out even farther for Friendship missions now?”

“Oh, I hope not,” Fluttershy said. “I for one have had quite enough of life-threatening adventures, thank you very much.”

Ash smirked sardonically. “I just hope it takes my handicap into account when selecting the team rosters.”

Pinkie Pie, having acquired a yellow hardhat and a tool belt from somewhere while nopony was watching, approached the Map again and stretched a measuring tape toward it. “I wonder how many Friendship missions we’ll have to take before we need to expand the throne room.”

Twilight looked contemplatively at the Map. “I don’t think we can do it alone,” she mused.

“Sure we can!” Pinkie declared, rushing over to one of the walls. “We just take out this wall, get some paint-”

“That’s not what I meant, Pinkie,” Twilight said patiently. “All these lands, all the creatures living out there that don’t know about the Magic of Friendship… I think it’s time to spread it beyond this land, to teach every creature about Friendship. And we’re going to need a lot of help.”

“Hmph,” Ash grunted, amused, then held up a hoof placatingly as Twilight and the others all gave him looks. “Sorry,” he said. “Far be it for me to second-guess the Princess of Friendship regarding her own domain, but I find it a slightly ridiculous thought that you Equestrians are the only culture in this entire world that has the concept of friendship.”

“I’m not talking about the ordinary everyday ‘you and I enjoy spending time together’ friendship, Ash,” Twilight said. “I mean the Capital-F, Elements of Harmony, world-and-life-changing Magic of Friendship. The thing that has kept Equestria from falling to darkness or destruction-”

“Ok, ok, I get the point, thank you,” Ash sputtered. “Getting more of that out into the world is something I can get behind. Heck, Equestriaalone could probably stand to have more of it.”

“Agreed,” Rarity said firmly. “But, where does one go to learn about Friendship?”

Twilight walked around the Map until she could reach out a hoof and point to Ponyville. “Here,” she declared. “They can all go here! We’re going to open a school!”

There was a long moment of silence as everypony exchanged glances and processed Twilight’s announcement. Finally, Rainbow flew up a little higher and said, “Ok, hooves up, who’s not surprised the egghead Princess wants to start a school?”

“Rainbow,” Twilight grumbled as first Spike, then Starlight, and then everyone else raised their hooves.

“Hey now,” Applejack said, “nopony said it was a bad idea, Twi. Just...” She twirled her hoof looking for the right words.

“It’s just perfectly in-character for you, darling” Rarity supplied. “I think you’d do a wonderful job as headmare of a school for Friendship.”

“I agree!” Pinkie exclaimed. The rest of the room quickly echoed their own support of the idea.

“Thank you, everypony,” Twilight said, looking relieved. “I’m glad you’re all behind this idea, because I’m going to need all of you to make this work.”

“And that’s my cue to get out of your manes and let you start planning,” Ash said, turning and heading for the door. He reached for the handles with a hoof, only to find them held fast by a magenta aura of magic.

“Where are you going, Ash?” Twilight asked. “I said all of you.”

Ash turned back around with a perplexed look on his face. “You’re seriously including me in this project?” he asked. “What in the multiverse could I possibly have to contribute? I’m not a Bearer of an Element of Harmony, nor am I your Number One Assistant or first-ever Friendship student. I don’t really understand ‘Capital-F Friendship’ the way all of you do. I’m a skvetchte mercenary mage-soldier, and not even a functional one at the moment. Heck, I never even had a formal education as you’d define it.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Ash,” Twilight said. “You’re a very smart pony with tons of experience handling individuals who are… stubborn about holding to their unfriendly attitudes.”

“Usually by breaking them down physically and then emotionally beating them into submission,” Ash deadpanned.

Twilight pursed her lips for a second and then countered with, “You have a strong sense of justice, a sharp mind for details, and a knack for persuasive argument.”

“Which I employ almost exclusively for the afore-mentioned emotional beat-downs,” Ash said, taking a few steps closer to Twilight, a smile starting to form on his lips. “I am not a nice pony, Twilight Sparkle. I am a blunt, harsh-tongued critic of all I survey, far better suited to yelling at fresh troops at boot camp than instructing young minds in the niceties of polite, friendly society.”

Twilight also took a couple steps closer and smiled a bigger, softer smile than Ash. “Our students will need to learn how to deal with harsh tongues, among other unpleasant things, when they go to teach Friendship in places like Kludge Town and the Dragon Lands. I also know that that abrasive exterior of yours comes from being uncompromisingly supportive and protective towards those you care for, and you don’t hesitate to extend that care toward new acquaintances. Such as students.”

Ash opened his mouth, but found no retort at the ready, so he just closed it again and looked away from Twilight. “I don’t know...” he finally said.

Twilight permitted herself to look smug for a second before smiling kindly at Ash again. “You said your horn is going to take at least a year to heal, right?” she asked. “Do you have any plans for what to do with yourself in the meantime? Go back home to Taryn, perhaps?”

“Skvetch, no!” Ash said, looking horrified. “Do you know how this wound might be translated onto a humanoid form? How it might impact my ability to use magic there? I don’t, and I don’t want to know. I am staying right here in this universe and… Bah,” he lowered his head and looked up at Twilight, “I have no idea how to keep myself occupied. Kalbarandt. Fine, I’ll consider being part of your school, but I’m not committing to it until you give me some kind of plan for what I’ll be teaching.”

“That’s fair,” Twilight said. “I’m going to Canterlot and ask Celestia for advice on how to get started,” she said to the room at large. “I should have a basic plan ready in a couple of days. I want all of you to think of some ideas for the curriculum and activities in the meantime, ok?”

Ash vs. Planning

“‘A basic plan’, she said,” Ash muttered, staring at the foot-thick book sitting on the table in front of him, one of seven copies that Twilight had distributed to her friends upon entering the throne room while keeping an eighth one for herself and Spike.

“For Twilight, this is basic,” Starlight Glimmer said, levitating her own copy and looking it over. “The hardback binding job is a bit… extra, though.”

“This isn’t my plan,” Twilight said, taking a seat in her throne, “it’s the guidelines for running a school set forth by the EEA.”

“What’s the EEA?” Applejack asked, eyeing the tome in front of her warily before opening it to a random page.

“The Equestrian Education Association,” Twilight answered. “They’re the group responsible for ensuring that every school across Equestria lives up to the same high standards of education, no matter what a particular school’s specialty may be. Celestia told me how I’d need their approval and-”

“You needed their approval?” Ash asked. “You’re a Princess, Twilight. You outrank all but three other ponies in this country.”

“Even Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns had to be accredited by the EEA,” Twilight said. “Not even a Princess can do whatever she likes when it comes to shaping young pony minds.”

“Is that like the EEA motto or something?” AJ asked, flipping to the front of her book.

“Celestia said it,” Twilight replied, flatly.

“Oh,” AJ said.

“Anyway,” Twilight said in a tone that threatened sharp words to anypony who dared interrupt again, “I drafted a proposal and presented it to the EEA, and they’ve granted us provisional accreditation, so we’re all clear to proceed with opening the School of Friendship.”

“Question,” Rainbow Dash said, raising a hoof, “how do we get… not provisional credit-nation?”

“Accreditation,” Twilight corrected reflexively. “The EEA’s head stallion, Chancellor Neighsay-”

“Oh, that name bodes well,” Ash deadpanned.

“Can I please finish a sentence?” Twilight snapped. Ash nodded and gestured for Twilight to proceed. “As I was saying,” Twilight grumped, “Chancellor Neighsay will come review the School during our Friends and Family Day and grant us full accreditation, provided that we do things by the book.” She tapped her hoof on her copy of the guidelines to emphasize the last three words.

“So, we’ve gotta do everything this books says to do,” Rainbow said. Twilight nodded as Rainbow lowered her head to look at her copy from tabletop level. “Twilight,” she said, “this thing is almost as big as my head. Are you sure you want us,” she swept a hoof around to point at everyone present, “to be the teachers? Us?”

“You’ll all do fine,” Twilight said. “There aren’t any ponies better qualified to teach the principles of Friendship and Harmony than the six of us, after all. Er, six plus one,” she amended, nodding at Ash.

“Just looking at this book is making me feel sleepy,” Rainbow said. “You know I can’t do the normal classroom lecture and note-taking kind of learning, Twi.”

“Teaching a class is a lot different from being a student, Rainbow,” Twilight replied. “I’ll do whatever I need to to help each of you learn all the guidelines we’ll need to follow. There are a few things in here that won’t apply to our school because of the age range our students are going to fall into.”

Rainbow Dash didn’t look entirely convinced, but she sat back and said, “Guess you can call me Professor Dash, then.”

“Speaking of students,” Rarity chimed in, “I assume we’re not just going to be taking students from Ponyville, but how far out are we going to be looking for our first year’s class?”

“We’ll accept students from all corners of Equestria,” Twilight said. She produced a short stack of papers and passed one to each of her friends. “And not just from Equestria, either,” she continued. “I had Celestia and Cadance help me reach out to every nation we have ties to, inviting them each to send one or two students to the school. That will give us a big head start in both spreading Friendship to other creatures and acclimating ponies to our newer allies like the Dragons, Yaks, Hippogriffs-”

“And Changelings, I see,” Ash cut in with a sour tone. “I don’t know why I’m surprised, but you’re going to let those emotion-draining, underhanded, shape-changing insects-”

“Ash, darling,” Rarity said, “you shouldn’t let yourself get so worked up. If you lose your temper, you may forget yourself and try to use magic.” Ash dutifully clamped his mouth shut and took a long, calming breath through his nose. “That’s better,” Rarity said. “I know you have issues with creatures that can change their forms at will, but you must try to move past it. The Changelings aren’t our enemies anymore.”

“Not all of them,” Ash said through clenched teeth. “Chrysalis is still out there with a small hive of her own, planning who-knows what. Obviously, Twilight reached out to Cabbage Patch’s ‘reformed’ Hive and not Chrysalis’, but how can we be sure that the bugs that show up on our doorstep will be the ones that don’t want to turn us into love jelly?”

“Cadance and Queen Cabbage are working out a solution to that exact question, actually,” Twilight said. “I can’t guarantee they’ll have that solution ready to implement by the time the school opens, but...” She shrugged with a hopeful look in her eye.

Ash blinked. “Those two are actually talking to each other now?” he asked. “Since when?”

“Cabbage claims they started smoothing things over while you were all flying back to Canterlot after capturing the Storm King and his fleet,” Twilight answered.

“Didn’t sound like it to me,” Ash muttered, but then shrugged. “Whatever. Good for them, I suppose. I...” He hunched his shoulders and laid his ears flat against his head. “I will endeavor to keep a civil tongue in my head, no matter what my students may be,” he intoned.

“I appreciate that, Ash,” Twilight said. “We’re all going to have our own little difficulties early on, since none of us have any formal experience as teachers. I have faith we can get past those difficulties quickly, though, so long as we do things by the book. Which,” she added as she got up from the table, “you should probably all start going over. Our doors will open as soon as the school building is built and our students start arriving. Rainbow, I’ll put together some visual aids for you and set them up where you can see them during your morning practice.”

“Thanks, Twilight,” Rainbow said, pushing her book away and hopping into the air. “Speaking of practice, I promised to help Scootaloo with a thing. See ya.” She zipped out of the throne room, stirring up a brief yet stiff breeze in her wake.

Ash opened his copy of the guidelines to the table of contents and let out a soft groan. “Sections and subsections nested three deep,” he said. “Welp, bureaucracy ho!”

Ash vs. Meet-and-Greets

“This is too much!” Rainbow Dash shouted. “Too much!”

“Do you think so?” Rarity asked, taking a scrutinizing look at the long-sleeved teal blouse, long purple skirt that matched her cat’s eye glasses, and the blue ribbon tie she was wearing. “I was hoping that dressing the part would help me feel the part, but now that you mention it...”

“You look very school marm-y, Rarity,” Ash said. He tugged at the lapel of the brown tweed vest he was wearing. “A more toned-down approach like this may have been better; I’m almost feeling the part.”

“Not the outfits,” Rainbow said impatiently, pressing her nose against Rarity’s. She pulled back and spread her front legs wide to take in the whole entry hall of the School of Friendship. “This,” she declared. “All this! This place is massive, and it has a moat. A. Moat. And a split waterfall framing the main entrance. Statues everywhere, a fancy fountain in the courtyard... Twilight’s Castle is less ornamented than this.”

“That’s ‘cuz the castle’s already a big ol’ ornament,” Pinkie Pie said. “Or maybe it’s more of a centerpiece play-set for a new wave of toys in a beloved brand...”

“Do we even need all this space?” Rainbow asked. “There’s only seven of us teaching here, and not even all at the same time.”

“This school is a Higher Level Educational Facility with no Pony Tribe Specialization and with Attached Student Housing,” Twilight Sparkle said, brandishing her EEA guidebook while Spike and Starlight stacked brochures on the table behind her. “The EEA is quite clear on the types of classrooms and facilities that requires us to have. I’m also looking ahead to when we’ll be able to hire more faculty and need to accommodate a larger student body.”

“Plannin’ fer the future,” Applejack said, smiling. “I can’t argue with that.” She tilted her hat down slightly and gave Twilight a coy look. “An’ I’ll just keep my questions about where you found the bits to pay fer all this to myself.”

Twilight returned the look. “Let’s just say there are some things a Princess can do without having to ask anypony for permission.,” she said.

“And suddenly I’m glad I’m not part of the national treasury committee,” Ash muttered, earning a giggle from Rarity and Fluttershy.

“Very funny,” Twilight deadpanned. She glanced up at the clock above the entrance doors. “Just a few more minutes until we officially open. Is everypony ready?”

“I think so,” Fluttershy said, “aside from the near-crippling anxiety of having to meet new ponies, wondering if I’ll be a good teacher, possibly having a big mean dragon in my class...” She shuddered and then perked back up, smiling faintly. “You know, just the usual.”

“Everything’s going to be just fine,” Twilight said. “Everything about this school just feels… right.”

“Well,” Starlight said, setting the last of her brochures down, “if Twilight Sparkle isn’t feeling stressed, you know there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I’m a little uncertain,” Ash said. “I feel like maybe we’ve moved too fast, haven’t spent enough time ironing things out?”

“Chancellor Neighsay is coming to accredit us on Friends and Family Day,” Twilight said, flipping her book open to a particular page and consulting it, “and Friends and Family Day has to occur before the official beginning of the autumn harvest and the Running of the Leaves.” She clapped the book shut and looked Ash square in the eye. “Right now, that gives us a little over two months to make sure we’re doing everything by the book, and there’s no better way to ‘iron things out’ than to start teaching for real and see where the actual wrinkles pop up.”

Ash pondered that for a second, and then nodded. “No plan survives first contact,” he said. “No more doubts here, Princess. We’ll take it one day at a time.”

“Yeah!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, “Let’s do this!”

The clock ticked to the hour and a bell rang out rapidly. “Places, everypony,” Twilight said, walking up to stand in front of the table of brochures and passing her book to Spike to stash somewhere.

“This is so exciting!” Pinkie squealed, pronking to her designated spot. “So many new ponies!” The doors of the school opened to admit an orderly flood of ponies and other creatures, headed by an enthusiastic-looking young Yak and a Hippogriff. “Oops,” Pinkie said, “I mean ‘so many new creatures!’”

Ash took a few steps back to avoid being bumped by the initial surge of bodies into the room and started to make a comment when he spotted a flash of light blue chitin amidst the press. Eyes narrowed in focus, he tried to find it again through the moving rainbow of bodies, to no avail. “Skvetchte Changeling, I know I saw you...” he muttered too quietly for anypony to hear.

“Attention every creature,” Twilight called out, stilling the crowd and bringing Ash’s hunt to a momentary end. “Welcome to the School of Friendship! I’m your headmare, Twilight Sparkle. Please follow Guidance Counselor Starlight to sign in and get your class assignments. Then we’ll show you to your living quarters.” The small sea of ponies began queuing up at the table, and Ash took the chance to resume hunting for the blue Changeling under the guise of helping his fellow teachers corral the herd.

Ash spotted something blue creating a bit of an eddy near the stairs and made his way toward it, but it turned out to be a young griffon snarking at a greenish-yellow earth pony who had bumped into him. Ash went to nudge the pair toward the table, only to be interrupted by a rasping shout from the side of the room: “Gallus!” The young griffon sighed wearily and flew over the crowd toward the source of the voice, which had also attracted Rainbow Dash’s attention. Ash looked at the young earth pony and nodded his head toward the registration table, and then walked off to look for the Changleing again.

Ash didn’t get far before the front doors of the school crashed open again. Who closed them? Ash wondered before the simply enormous Yak who had caused the ruckus gleefully bellowed “Ponies!”

“Prince Rutherford!” Pinkie Pie shouted in reply, popping up into view from the front of the crowd and quickly snaking her way through to meet up with the Yak. Ash headed in Rutherford’s direction as well, hoping to use the wide berth ponies were giving him as a means to check as much of the crowd as possible for disguised ‘lings in one swoop.

The young, and much smaller, Yak that had led the initial rush into the school walked up as Rutherford reached for her shoulder and said, “This Yona Yak. She come to pony school. Hah. Make it better.”

Yona beamed. “Yak cant wait to meet ponies and tell all about Yakyakistan,” she declared, and the bolted off toward the nearest clump of ponies. The ponies wisely braced themselves to flee or catch the charging Yak, and when Yona stepped on one of her long braids and tripped, they wisely scattered and let her roll by. Ash and Pinkie galloped after the tumbling Yak and caught up just as she crashed into a column and knocked over a bust of a Royal Guard and a bansai tree as well as knocking a banner off the column. Pinkie caught the banner and tree while Ash dived to save the bust from hitting the floor.

“Points for the enthusiasm and desire to share cultures,” Ash said, setting the bust back in its place, “but Yak needs to move a little slower in the future.”

“Sorry,” Yona said with a sheepish smile.

“Here,” Applejack said, coming over and helping Yona stand up, “why don’t I show around before you break everything?” Yona nodded and let AJ lead her away at a safe, sedate pace.

“Pretty exciting first day, isn’t it?” Pinkie asked Ash as she nestled the little tree in her mane. She looked at the banner, then up to the nail it was supposed to hang from. “Think you can get this back up there, Ash?” she asked.

Ash examined the banner, and then shook his head. “I’m still set to ‘silverware and writing implements only’ right now, I’m afraid,” he said.

“Ah well,” Pinkie said, rolling the banner up.

“Say, Pinkie,” Ash said, “have you seen any-”

“Hey Spike! Ashen Blaze! Come meet Smolder!”

Ash turned his head to see Dragon Lord Ember waving at him. “Never mind,” Ash said to Pinkie, “diplomacy calls.” He trotted toward Ember and reached her just as Spike ran up and gave her a hug.

“Great to see you, Ember,” Spike said. Ember gave him an awkward pat on the head.

“I’m impressed, Ember,” Ash said. “You managed to find a dragon who wanted to come here?”

“Of course,” Ember said, folding her arms smugly. “Well,” she amended, “not so much ‘wanted to come’ as ‘the only young dragon I could find who can tolerate being surrounded by ponies all day.’”

“That’ll have to do,” Ash said, smirking.

“So, uh,” Spike said, looking past Ember, “which one is Smolder?”

Confused, Ember turned around to see two young dragons standing behind her: an orange one who stood a head taller than Spike, and the other brown, a head taller again, and looking unusually shy for a dragon. Before anyone could say anything, another figure joined the group with a gentle rebuke on her lips: “Ocellus, we talked about this.”

Nearly as tall as Princess Luna, her chitin glossy black, with a stringy blue mane spilling down to her shoulder, pony-like yellow eyes, and a cutie mark of a black, hole-studded heart framed by changeling-green flames, Queen Cabbage Patch approached the taller of the two dragons. Looking abashed, that dragon vanished in a rush of green fire and was replaced by a small Changeling with light blue chitin, flat cyan eyes, and a pinkish, curly frill on her head which matched the wings poking out of the back of the shell on her back. “Remember,” Cabbage said gently, “you need to stay identifiable as a Changeling. It’s polite.”

“Ah-ha,” Ash said triumphantly, pointing at Ocellus, “I found you!” Ocellus yipped and scurried away, changing into a small yellow earth pony as she went. “And there it goes again...” Ash grumbled.

“Smooth move,” Spike deadpanned.

“Ashen Blaze,” Cabbage said coolly, stepping closer to the unicorn.

“Cabbage Patch,” Ash returned, just as cool.

“When I heard Twilight had picked you as one of the teachers at this school,” Cabbage said, “I almost declined her invitation to send any students at all. Twilight assured me you wouldn’t do anything untoward to my Changelings, though, so here we are. I’m willing to trust you’ll behave yourself.”

“A wise General knows when fighting becomes pointless and when to let the diplomats take charge,” Ash said. “I give my word that I will bring no harm to any student at this school, and the only thing that can void a promise from Ashen Blaze is death. I have to ask, though, for my own sanity and the safety of the students, how many Changelings are enrolling?”

“Just Ocellus for now,” Cabbage replied. “Of course, you don’t believe me,” she said when Ash made a face, “but it’s true. She’s the only one of her age group who showed any interest in learning about other cultures; everyling else is either focusing on recovering our own fractured lore or finding a specialized role in the Hive Mind. If things go well here, though, I may consider sending my two Princesses, Chard and Kale, next year as part of their training.”

“I noticed that Ocellus is blue,” Ember said. “I didn’t know Changelings came in more colors than black.”

“We don’t,” Cabbage said, “but some of our younglings have started a trend of inventing more distinctive and colorful versions of their natural forms. I don’t think it’s a bad idea, but it does make it quite clear who has a degree of artistic sense and who… doesn’t.” She smiled ruefully at some mental image she’d unconsciously awoken. “Now,” she glanced over to where Ocellus was trying to take shelter inside Fluttershy’s mane as the young Hippogriff bombarded them with excessively enthusiastic questions, “Ocellus needs some support over there, so goodbye for now.”

Ash made a noncommittal noise and turned away, finding himself suddenly nose-to-nose with Smolder. “What’s with that gem on your horn?” the dragon asked.

“It’s a magic cast,” Ash answered curtly. “My horn is broken.”

“How’d that happen?” Smolder asked.

Ash’s eyes rolled back and forth as he considered his reply. “That’s a bit of a story,” he said at last, feeling his irritation at the Changelings fading away.

Just then, Twilight flew up above the crowd and announced, “Thank you so much for supporting the grand opening of our school. I hope you’ll all join us for Friends and Family Day to see the amazing progress your students are making.” A cheer went up through the crowd.

Ash looked back at Smolder and shrugged. “And that story will have to wait until later, it seems. Time to go claim your dormitory.” Smolder opened her mouth to protest, but Ember whapped her upside the head and pointed, and Smolder sulked off.

Ash looked around at the ponies and other creatures filing off deeper into the school, heaved a sigh, and set off in their wake. “And so it begins,” he said.

Ash vs. Ocellus

“Oooohh!” Silverstream trilled, running into the classroom, “I have so been looking forward to this class!”

“You’ve said that about every class we’ve had,” Gallus said, trudging in after the Hippogriff along with the rest of the class.

“I know,” Silverstream said with absolutely no loss of enthusiasm, “and they’ve all been so interesting. But you know what’s so special about this class?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell us no matter what we say,” Smolder said, deadpan. Gallus smirked and offered the dragon a fist-bump, which Smolder accepted with little hesitation.

“It’s because,” Silverstream paused for effect, “I have no idea what the teacher’s going to be like. All our other professors came out to Seaquestria and although I didn’t really meet any of them up close I got to see a little of what they’re like. This Ashen Blaze though, he’s a total mystery.”

“Male teacher pony not such big mystery,” Yona said dismissively. “Yona hear he is mighty warrior, maybe toughest pony in whole of pony lands. Not as tough as Yaks, of course.”

“Dragon Lord Ember likes him,” Smolder said, rubbing her chin, “so he has to be pretty impressive. He didn’t seem to get along with your Queen though, Ocellus.”

“He doesn’t like me,” Ocellus mumbled, staring down at her desk. “And I… I don’t think I like him much either. Is that a bad thing to say?” She looked up and around to see if anyone would answer, and saw Ashen Blaze march into the room and stop behind his desk.

Ash turned and swept the room with his vivid green eyes, lingering a second too long on Ocellus. He then turned to the blackboard and tentatively lifted a piece of chalk in his magic. “Ok, that’s doable,” he said and then turned to face the class again. “Welcome to the course on Applied Friendship. My name is Ashen Blaze, and I have the dubious honor of being your teacher. I prefer to be addressed as Professor Ash, but I’ll answer to just about anything except ‘Blaze.’ Before anyone asks, yes there is a story behind my horn being in a crystal cast, and no I am not going to tell it. Yet.”

“Oh, come on,” Smolder groaned quietly.

Ash smirked and levitated his chalk to the board, sketching the symbols of the Elements of Harmony as he continued speaking. “This class is going to be a little different from the others you’re taking,” he said. “While your other professors focus on instructing you in the theory and principles behind their respective Element of Harmony, my job is to build the bridge between those lessons and the real world. They will tell you how things should be. I will show you how to take the way things actually are and start changing them for the better. There will be no multiple-choice or the fill-in-the-blank tests here.” He paused as the students all perked up and let out little cheers, then gave them a wicked smirk and said, “No, you’re going to have give me something much harder than simple right or wrong answers. Your homework and tests will be designed to show off your critical thinking skills, creativity, and ability to convince me that you know what you’re talking about even if you don’t.”

The class was considerably less enthused by that prospect.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you at first,” Ash said, “particularly on those who aren’t intimately familiar with Equestrian culture and the shenanigans of the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony. In the most basic sense, we’re going to discuss theoretical Friendship problems drawn from the Bearers’ experiences, and at the end of each week I’ll give you one or two scenarios for you to write an essay on how you’d resolve them using the principles of Friendship. Any questions so far? Besides about my horn,” he added as Smolder’s arm shot up.

“If you’d just tell it already,” Smolder muttered sullenly, lowering her arm.

“Patience may not be one of the Elements of Harmony, young dragon” Ash said with a teasing smile, “but it is still a virtue.” His smile faded as a pale blue hoof rose into the air. “Ocellus?” Ash prompted.

Ocellus lowered her hoof and took a second to steady her mind before speaking. “Are you going to be pulling scenarios straight out of the Journal of Friendship?” she asked. “I ask because the solutions Professor Twilight and her friends came up with for the problems are also written in there, so it’d a little too easy for us to just know the right solutions, wouldn’t it?”

“You are not Professor Twilight and her friends,” Ash said. “This class is not about what they would do, it’s about how you would respond to a Friendship problem. The scenarios I’ll present may be taken directly from the published version of the Journal, they may be drawn from the Bearers’ unpublished misadventures, from my own experience, or they may inspired by real events but with certain details changed to protect the innocent or make you all think.” He slammed a hoof on his desk, causing most of the class to flinch and Ocellus reflexively shifted to her earth pony form. “And that reminds me,” Ash said grimly. “I won’t permit any shape-shifting in this classroom. Ocellus, you need to break that habit of trying to hide as something you’re not, and don’t walk in here looking like anything but your actual Changeling self, or we’re going to have a problem.”

“S-sorry, Professor,” Ocellus said, changing back. “None of the other teachers seem to mind me changing, though.”

“The other teachers don’t worry nearly as much about this school’s security as I do,” Ash said. “I’m not going to let Chrysalis sneak one of her drones in here and start draining all the love and happiness out of the student body, or executing some scheme to tear the whole place down around our heads. I said your actual Changeling self, Ocellus.”

“But-” Ocellus started to protest.

“A Changeling can look like anything they want,” Ash said, “except another Changeling’s natural appearance. Is that correct, or did my research steer me wrong?”

“T-that’s correct,” Ocellus said, “but I don’t-”

“So anyling could copy the way you look now,” Ash cut in. “How can I trust that it’s you I’m teaching if I can’t tell at a glance that it’s really you?”

Ocellus opened her mouth, but then closed it and dropped her gaze to her desk. “Very well,” she said, changing in a rush of green to black chitin and greenish, hole-studded wings.

“Thank you,” Ash said. “To be fair, I won’t hold you to that rule outside this classroom. Now-”

“Professor Ash!” Silverstream said, thrusting a claw into the air and waving it.

“Yes?” Ash asked, giving the Hippogriff a flat look.

“I can change into a seapony, so does the ‘no transformation’ rule apply to me too?”

Ash blinked. “Technically, yes,” he said after a moment, “but, so far as I’m aware, the Hippogriff is your natural state, and I can’t imagine why you’d need to transform in this class, so it’s not really an issue.” He scanned the room, asking, “Any other shape-shifters or talents for transformation magic in this class that I should know about? No? Ok then, lesson The First.” He erased the chalkboard and drew some stick-figure ponies and satyrs on it. “I call it ‘How your overconfident professor broke his horn twice within three days, and how that might have been avoided.’”

“Finally!” Smolder cried out happily.

There was a general shuffling as students readied their quill pens and note paper. Ocellus, however, just stared glumly at her hole-studded hooves until she felt a touch on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Sandbar smiling encouragingly at her. “Hey,” Sandbar said, “don’t worry about it. You still look just fine to me.” Ocellus smiled back, feeling the perfect sincerity behind his words, and quickly dug into her bag for her note paper.

“So, we’ll start at the point where my team and I first arrived at Canterlot and found the Storm King’s army there,” Ash was saying. “Raise your hoof or claw whenever you hear something you think me or my friends could or should have done differently, and I’ll pause so we can discuss it.”

Ocellus focused intently on Ash as he began weaving the tale, her quill poised in a magical grip. She knew most of the later part of the story because Ash’s group had passed through Hivetown and Queen Cabbage had chosen to get herself and most of the Hive directly involved from that point forward, but of the early phases Ocellus knew only bits and pieces.

“...I charged, he swung the staff, magically-active horn met magic-absorbing crystal, and next thing I knew I was on the floor and my horn was no longer on my head. I happened to land near the petrified Princess Cadance, so I decided that, having seriously misjudged the enemy, it would be best to withdraw from the battle and take something that the Storm King obviously wanted with me. I cast a teleportation spell, and immediately regretted it.” Ash paused for a breath and looked around the room. “And no creature has interrupted me yet,” he said, “so either I’m a much more compelling storyteller than I thought or no one thinks I did anything wrong up to this point. Come on, any comments from the peanut gallery?” A large hoof shot up, and Ash nodded gratefully. “Yes, Yona?”

“Instead of run away,” the young Yak said, “Professor should have stood up and charged Storm King again. Storm King probably not expect that from hurt pony.”

“Well,” Ash said, “you’re probably not wrong on that last point, but...” He twirled a hoof and grit his teeth. “I cannot imagine that would’ve ended well for me,” he said at length. He saw Ocellus’s hoof go up, and silently acknowledged her.

“It wasn’t just you and the Storm King in that room,” Ocellus said, “and your friends were capable of coming to your aid. If you don’t mind me jumping ahead in the story…?”

“If it gets you to the point,” Ash said impatiently, “by all means.”

“Well,” Ocellus said, “later on, at the Crystal Empire, Soul Mage and Gold Heart managed to take the Storm King down almost entirely by themselves. So, why didn’t you let them and the other two fight him the first time, in Canterlot?”

“That,” Ash said, pointing at Ocellus, “is exactly the kind of question I’m looking for. Well played.” Despite the praise inherent in his words, he did not sound pleased to be saying them. “That is absolutely correct,” he continued, “I was not alone in facing down the Storm King in that room. I was well aware of that fact and even remember expecting the twins or Gale to follow up my attack and keep the Storm King off balance. When the staff broke my horn, however, all that stopped. I’ve been injured in battle while pulling foolish stunts before, but never to such a degree. All I could think was ‘get out of here,’ and so we did.”

“So, what was the right thing to do, then?” Sandbar asked. “Stay and fight, or escape with the Princess?”

“I don’t know,” Ash said flatly. “I escaped, and things turned out fine eventually, after more close calls, wrecking a train, and other unpleasant situations. Ocellus’s suggestion most likely would’ve ended the Storm King’s threat right then and there, but we’d have missed out on befriending Dragon Lord Ember, learning about this cast,” he tapped his horn, “at the Crystal Empire, and I don’t know how we’d have handled Tempest Shadow without half the resources and creatures that came back with us. Which course of events, Sandbar, do you think is the better one?”

“Uh...” Sandbar said, eyes rolling up in deep thought.

Briiiiiing.

“Time already?” Ash asked, looking askance at the clock. “Well, skvetch, I’m going to need to restructure my lesson plans. Sandbar, ruminate on that question until next time. I’m not sure if we’ll be able to spend much more time picking apart the rest of this particular scenario, though, so I’ll leave this thought with you: No matter the time, place, or how much power you think you have, it’s always the right choice to stand up to injustice. Class dismissed.”

Ocellus packed her things up and rushed out the door. As soon as she was completely in the hallway, she reapplied her pale blue chitin form in a flash of green fire without breaking her stride. She trotted for a few steps, then slowed down as she heard her fellow non-pony students gossiping behind her.

“Male teacher pony sure talk a lot,” Yona was saying.

“All our teachers talk a lot,” Gallus said. “That’s kinda the point of being a teacher. They talk, and we have to listen.”

“Not all like Ash,” Yona insisted. “He use lots of words where pony like Rainbow Dash use not so many. Not as many words as Pink Pony, though. Maybe… as many as Headmare Twilight.”

“He’s got a weird way of talking about himself,” Smolder said. “It’s like… he’s proud of what he’s done but at same time ashamed?”

“He’s frustrated,” Ocellus aid, falling into step with the group and deciding to put her two bits in. “I could sense it inside him the whole time. It’s like he wanted to be angry at something but didn’t know what that something was, and that just made him more upset.”

“I’ll bet it was you,” Smolder said. “It’s pretty obvious that Professor Ash does not like Changelings, and now he has to teach one of them.”

“Oh,” Ocellus said, head drooping, “right. That… that does make sense.”

“Hey now,” Sandbar said, catching up to the group and giving Ocellus an encouraging nudge, “don’t get down about it. That’s his problem, not yours, and he seems to be trying to keep it to himself, at least. He’s bound to come around eventually, once he gets used to you. And if he doesn’t, eh, so what? He’s only one pony.”

One pony who decides if I pass or fail, Ocellus thought. Despite her gloom, she mustered up a smile to repay Sandbar for his effort to cheer her up.

Ash vs. the EEA

Chancellor Neighsay was sitting at his desk, working his way through a stack of paperwork, when he heard a knock at his office door. Frowning, he looked up at the clock on his wall and, noting the time, pushed the papers aside with a sigh, assumed a dignified posture, and said, “Enter.”

The door was opened by a confident hoof, and Ashen Blaze marched into the office, wearing his tweed vest and a business-like expression that wavered only slightly when he saw that Neighsay was the only pony in the room. He glanced back briefly through the doorway, then continued to approach the desk. “Chancellor Neighsay,” he said with the smallest of nods. “I don’t think I’m early.”

“You aren’t, Ashen Blaze,” Neighsay said. “You’re precisely on time. Do shut the door, please.”

Ash stopped, halfway across the room, and frowned. “I assumed that with a name like ‘Equestrian Education Association’ there’d be more than one pony involved.”

“There are many more ponies on the EEA board,” Neighsay said, “but I did not think it was necessary to gather them for this. The only reason I have deigned to meet with you is because you had the courtesy to request a meeting through the proper channels. Given that, it’s only polite that I tell you to your face that you’ve wasted your time. The EEA has already rendered its decision regarding Princess Twilight’s school.”

“You decided,” Ash retorted, closing the remaining distance between him and the desk with heavy steps. “You unilaterally judged the school unfit, and you expect us to just roll over and accept that?”

Neighsay sat up a little taller, stoically glaring at the other unicorn. “As the designated inspector, I acted with the full authority of the EEA,” he said. “And once I returned to Canterlot,” he continued before Ash could form a response, “I gave a full report to the board and they voted to uphold my decision.”

“By how much?” Ash asked.

“By enough,” Neighsay replied with finality.

Ash snorted and turned away from the desk. “Gave your version of events,” he said, marching to the door, “and pushed them to act right away.” He placed a hoof against the door and lowered his head. “Leaving no chance for appeals or counter-argument.” He slammed the door shut and whirled to face the Chancellor. “Is that how things work?” he asked fiercely. “If everything isn’t just how you like it, then tough luck! No more school.”

Neighsay’s eyes narrowed. “Princess Twilight was perfectly aware of the standards the EEA-”

“I wasn’t talking about the EEA’s standards,” Ash cut in, stomping back to the desk. “I meant you, Chancellor. It was your unbending insistence that everything be a certain way that got us here.”

A thick silence hung over he office as the two ponies stared each other down for a few seconds. Finally, Chancellor Neighsay leaned forward and broke the silence with a statement. “I had quite a difficult time trying to find information on you, Ashen Blaze,” he said. “Outside of some honors bestowed by Princess Celestia, you don’t seem to have many official records. No known birthplace, no school records...”

Ash rolled his eyes. “You’re looking in all the wrong places if you want to know who I am,” he said. “And this isn’t about me anyway. Don’t try to change the subject.”

“I wasn’t finished,” Neighsay said. Ash huffed and gestured for Neighsay to get on with it. “What I have managed to learn about you,” the Chancellor said, “leads me to believe you’re a pony of a military disposition. That little group of yours is called the Order-naries, correct?” Ash nodded. “Then, I can only wonder,” Neighsay continued, “how you could be willing to take part in some project that would bring disruptive elements into this orderly land.”

Ash blinked and tilted his head slightly. “You’re talking about the non-pony students, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Of course,” Neighsay snapped.

Ash sighed and shook his head, putting a hoof to his temple. “Ok,” he said, “first, there’s a big difference between ‘Order’ and obsessively holding to the status quo. Second, if you think Twilight didn’t consider every little detail of this ‘project’ before proceeding, you don’t know Twilight. She only extended invitations for enrollment to races that Equestria is on good terms with at the moment.”

“Good terms,” Neighsay drawled. “What of those brutish Yaks? They declare war on others at the slightest provocation.”

“Yaks take extreme pride in their culture and have little use for mincing words,” Ash countered. “They may be quick to threaten war, but they withdraw those threats just as quickly once they’re sure they’re being treated with respect. It’s a blunt way of doing things, but it certainly keeps negotiations from coming to a crawl.”

“Hm,” Neighsay said, unimpressed. “What can you say about dragons, then?” he asked. “They have a long history of terrorizing pony settlements, stealing our valuables, and threatening our weather systems with their smoky snores.”

Ash shrugged. “Can’t change the past,” he admitted, “but the dragons have a new leader who is dead-set on changing Dragon culture to be less… nasty by default. It’s going to be a long road, but sending a young dragon to Twilight’s school was a major step forward.”

“A foalish dream,” Neighsay scoffed. “There was a Hippogriff among your students, and they have only just been discovered. How can we trust their intentions when we barely know anything about them?”

Ash smirked and shook his head in disbelief. “Imagine that,” he said, “the head of the EEA, unquestioned master of all things educational, doesn’t know history.”

“What are you getting at?” Neighsay asked testily.

“As I understand it,” Ash replied, “Princess Celestia and the Hippogriff Queen know each other from long ago; Celestia knew where they could be found and had faith that they possessed some magic that could combat the Storm King. Obviously, they hadn’t kept in touch, but from a historical perspective it’s hardly accurate to consider the Hippogriffs as strangers, let alone a threat. Besides, they owe Equestria a debt for ending the threat of the Storm King.”

“Perhaps,” Neighsay grumbled, averting his eyes. “That’s only one point where I may be willing to agree with you, though. Yaks and dragons still present credible threats. And then there are the Changelings, who have attacked Equestria twice in recent memory! Explain that away, Ashen Blaze!”

“Er,” Ash said, finally breaking eye contact with the Chancellor.

Neighsay quirked an eyebrow. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “You’ve had such quick retorts ready for everything until now. You have concerns about the Changelings’ motives, as well, don’t you?”

Ash grit his teeth and locked eyes with the Chancellor again. “I have misgivings, yes,” he said, “but I’m letting them be outweighed by-”

“Just a moment,” Neighsay interrupted, touching a hoof to his badge. He was silent for a second, and then looked back up at Ash with an angry sneer. “Your ploy has failed, Ashen Blaze,” he said.

“Ploy?” Ash sputtered. “What-”

Neighsay stood up and took a few steps away from his desk. “Your ploy to keep me distracted so I wouldn’t notice when somepony destroyed the seal I placed on Twilight’s school,” he said. “Let this be a lesson,” he continued, tapping the badge to open a portal, “that no violation of EEA edicts will go undiscovered or tolerated. You can see yourself out, now.”

“Hold on a second!” Ash exclaimed, “I have no idea what…” He trailed off as Neighsay ignored him and walked through the portal. “Morag,” Ash muttered, turning to head to the door. “I came here by my own determination, not as some...” He looked back, realizing the portal was still open. “Sloppy,” he said, shaking his head and heading over to the portal. He poked the blue area with a hoof and, when nothing shocked him, pushed him away, or made a noise, he stuck his head through to find himself staring at Neighsay’s backside as he was starting an argument with Twilight Sparkle on the path in front of the Friendship School. As Ash crept the rest of the way through the portal, he saw Twilight wasn’t standing alone. All her friends were with her, as were the five non-pony students, and the leaders of their respective nations, several pony students, and Princess Celestia for good measure.

Despite standing alone against so many, and so much political and magical power, Chancellor Neighsay was steadfast in his determination to block access to the school. “This is for the greater good!” he was saying. “The school was disorganized, the teachers unqualified! And-” he froze as he heard Ash’s hoofsteps behind him and twisted his head to look.

“Don’t mind me,” Ash said, grinning gleefully, “I’m just showing myself out. Go on, keep making a fool of yourself. I’ll just be right over here.” He sat down at the edge of the walkway, partway between Neighsay and the crowd but out of the way.

Neighsay glowered at Ash for a second, and then cleared his throat and tired to regain his train of thought. “The presence of those dangerous and unpredictable ‘students,’” he pointed at Yona, Ocellus, Gallus, Silverstream, and Smolder, “puts pony lives in danger!”

“I’ll show you unpredictable!” Dragon Lord Ember growled, clenching her fists and takinf a theatening step forward. That set the other leaders off, and their own protests or cries for everyone to calm down quickly turned into a jumble of incomprehensible shouting.

Ash sighed heavily and shook his head. “Prove his point for him, why don’t you?” he grumbled.

“Hold on, please!” Princess Celestia shouted over the din, goading her fellow leaders into silence. “I’m sure Princess Twilight has a good reason for all this.”

“I do,” Twilight said with supreme confidence. She marched up to Neighsay as she explained, “It’s true that my school may not be EEA accredited-”

“Then it’s not a school,” Neighsay interrupted.

Ash narrowed his eyes and stood up. Can’t levitate the ol’ morag, he mused silently, so how much force would it take to hip-check him into the moat?

“It’s not an EEA School,” Twilight said without missing a beat. “It’s a Friendship School with its own rules.” Her horn glowed an a thick tome – easily larger than the book of EEA guidelines – materialized on the ground in front of Neighsay. “I should know,” Twilight said, smirking, “since I wrote the book. These students reminded me that every friendship is special, so the way we teach Friendship has to be just as unique. My school is going to do things by our book.”

Chancellor Neighsay stared down at the door-stopper of a book, and then looked back up at Twilight with cold eyes. “Allowing all these creatures to attend your school, changing the rules for them?! It simply won’t work.”

Maybe a bull rush would work better… Ash thought, sliding into a better position. I can stand getting a little wet.

“I promise you, Chancellor,” Twilight said calmly, “my school will help protect Equestria.”

“Or destroy it!” Neighsay retorted. He spun and galloped back through his still-open portal. Ash lunged with a wordless cry, but the portal closed before he got more than a few steps.

“Pah,” Ash spat. “Fine then,” he said, “I’ll get him next time he darkens our doorway.”

“What were doing, Ash?” Twilight asked, “I mean, coming through his portal like that...”

“Ah,” Ash said with a dismissive wave, “he and I were just in the middle of discussing the school’s fate when you broke the seal, is all.”

“Oh,” Twilight said, sheepish. “Sorry. I… didn’t know.”

“You were so distraught, I didn’t want to waste time trying to sell you on the idea,” Ash said with a shrug. “Besides, I wasn’t getting anywhere. No other EEA members were there, and the whole thing was devolving into an ego clash anyway. Your solution is much better: got the doors open faster and got us out from under that gargoyle’s hoof at the same time.”

“Thank you for trying anyway,” Twilight said, giving Ash a quick hug. “So,” she said, turning toward the crowd. The students all looked eager, but there appeared to be uncertainty among their leaders. “Mind helping me to convince them to let their students come back, instead?” Twilight asked Ash.

“That sounds like a much easier task,” Ash replied, smirking.

Ash vs. Ocellus, round 2

As the students filed into Ash’s classroom, Gallus proposed a question: “Any guesses as to how this class is going to be changed up?”

Smolder looked around the room, which was still set up with desks in orderly ranks and files, and said, “He hasn’t rearranged anything, so I’m guessing ‘not much.’”

“I don’t think it’s going to be any different, either,” Sandbar said, taking his seat. “Professor Ash never seemed too bothered with the EEA structure.”

“Yona not mind,” Yona said, settling into her own desk. “This class never quite as boring as others.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Ash said, startling the students as he entered the room and went to his desk. He scanned the room, counting the empty desks. While the vast majority of the students had returned when the school reopened, a few had apparently changed their minds about attending, and there had been a couple new ponies who’d taken advantage of the closure and reopening to submit a late application for enrollment. With the initial survey complete, Ash’s gaze locked onto one light-blue student in particular. “Ocellus,” he said, “did you forget that this class a has rule against being transformed?”

“Um,” Ocellus said, meekly hopeful, “I was hoping that rule wouldn’t apply anymore? You know, since the school’s changed its guidelines?”

Ash frowned disapprovingly. “That rule isn’t an EEA guideline,” he said. “It’s my rule for my classroom, and I have no reason to change it. You, however, do need to change.”

Ocellus opened her mouth to protest, but then thought better of it and just dropped her crafted appearance with a sigh and flash of green fire.

“That’s better,” Ash said. “Now,” he turned his attention to the rest of the class, “I know you’re all wondering, what does being freed from the shackles of the EEA mean for this class? The answer is, not much.” There was some quiet groaning. “Come on,” Ash said, “does anyone have any actual complaints about how things were going in here? No? Well, before you get too depressed, let me outline what is going to change.” He got up and walked around to the front of the desk. “First of all,” he said, “I’m doing away with the weekly tests. Most of the homework assignments too, for that matter. In their place,” he raised his voice slightly to be heard over the intrigued murmurs, “there will be one essay due each week. The topic of this essay will be the same every time: a friendship problem you are personally involved with and either how you resolved it or how you plan to resolve it if it’s still an ongoing issue. If there isn’t a real friendship problem for you to fix, then your essay will be on one of several hypothetical problem prompts that I’ll provide.”

Silverstream raised her claw and Ash gave her a nod. “If we’re just writing about our actual experiences,” Silverstream asked, “what are we going to do during class?”

“The same thing as before,” Ash answered, “discuss how to apply Friendship in various situations. I want to be a little less structured than before, though. If you want advice with a problem, have a pressing question you want to discuss, or anything that you can convince me is relevant to Applied Friendship, we can talk about it. On that note, is there anything any creature wants to discuss?” He looked around the classroom, his gaze lingering slightly on Ocellus, but no one spoke up. “Right then,” Ash said, walking back to behind his desk, “I’ll just pass out the first sheet of hypotheticals, and we’ll talk about the first one of the list.”

Class had ended, and Ocellus was among the first out of the room. As soon as she was in the hall, she side-stepped out of the way of students behind her, focused her mind, and reapplied her blue chitin and frilly wings with a flash of magic fire and a sigh.

“You shouldn’t have to do that,” said a voice from right next to Ocellus, giving her a small fright. She looked over to see Smolder leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “Just going along with Professor Ash’s dumb rule, I mean,” the dragon continued.

“It’s not a problem,” Ocellus said.

“Oh yeah?” Smolder pressed. “Then why do you always hurry to get out so you can change back? Normally you like to hang back and ask the teachers more questions or just chat with us.”

“I’ve noticed that too,” Gallus said, coming over to the pair. He squeezed between them and threw a claw around each of their shoulders. “And we should probably be having this talk somewhere where the teacher can’t overhear us. Hm?”

“Good point,” Smolder agreed, letting the griffon pull her away from the wall. Ocellus also let herself be led along, sensing that her friends wouldn’t let her get away until they’d spoken their piece. Silverstream, Yona, and Sandbar came out of the classroom together and, seeing the other half of their group heading off together, decided to follow and see what was up. “Look, Ocellus,” Smolder said when they were a safe distance down the hall, “it’s obvious that you don’t like having to change out of this look in Professor Ash’s class.”

“You’re right,” Ocellus admitted, dropping her gaze to the floor, “but… he’s a teacher. I can’t just go against what he says. It’s really not that much of an inconvenience anyway, and it does make him less tense.”

“I’m sure it does,” Gallus drawled, “because you’re just giving him what he wants.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Silverstream asked.

“He’s just being a bully,” Smolder insisted. “This kind of thing happens all the time in the Dragon Lands; it’s a classic dominance move among the younger dragons.”

“I thought you dragons just beat each other up to find out who’s in charge,” Gallus said.

“Nah, that’s only if nothing else settles it,” Smolder said lightly. “The first time a group of young dragons meet a newcomer, they’ll usually make up some ridiculous ‘rule’ or humiliating challenge and try to convince the newbie to do it. If the newbie submits, that’s the end of it and they’ll become everyone else’s punching bag. If the newbie asserts themselves and refuses,” Smolder grinned, “then the real games begins.”

“This isn’t the Dragon Lands, though,” Sandbar pointed out.

“Obviously,” Smolder sighed, rolling her eyes. “My point is, Ocellus needs to stand up for herself. There’s no good reason she has to follow that one rule for just one class, other than letting the teacher feel better about himself; like he can get away with picking on a student just because she’s a creature he doesn’t want to be around.”

“That not sound much like Friendship,” Yona said.

“What can I do, though? Ocellus asked. “Right or wrong, Ash is a teacher. I’d need a very good reason to be able to defy the rule and not get in trouble, and I can’t think of anything that he couldn’t just brush off with ‘just making sure we’re not being infiltrated by the bad Changelings.’”

Nobody had an immediate answer, so the group walked in silent contemplation for a little. As they turned a corner into the hallway containing the headmare and guidance counselor’s offices, Sandbar saw Starlight Glimmer standing outside the latter, and was struck by inspiration. “Of course!” he exclaimed, giving himself a smack on the head. “We students might not be able to tell Ash to stop being a bully, but,” he pointed to Starlight, “another member of the faculty could. Come on.” He gave Ocellus a gentle push toward Starlight, and the whole group followed behind.

Starlight looked genuinely surprised to be approached by students, and her attempt to give them a gentle, welcoming smile was spoiled by not being to shake the look of a foal with their hoof caught in the cookie jar from her eyes. “H-hey,” she said, “can I… help you kids?”

Sandbar gave Ocellus an encouraging nudge, and Ocellus said, “I hope so. I have a… problem.”

“Ok,” Starlight said, flinging her office door open and ushering the little Changeling inside, “come right on in and let’s talk.” Sandbar caught the door before it closed, and the rest of the students filed in while Starlight plopped Ocellus down in a chair and hurried around to sit behind her desk. “So...” Starlight said, “how can I help?”

“Um,” Ocellus said, momentarily overwhelmed. Instinctively, she expanded her emotional senses, looking to anchor herself in the Hive Mind. Of course, there was no Hive Mind – she was only Changeling in Ponyville at the moment after all – but she did feel her friends’ emotions, all of them willing to support her, and an earnest desire to help within Starlight Glimmer. Encouraged, Ocellus spoke calmly, explaining how Ashen Blaze was making her assume her natural form instead of the blue chitin and red frills she preferred to present to the world, and how Ocellus wanted that to stop.

When Ocellus finished, Starlight sat back in her chair with a troubled look on her face. “I… see,” she said at length. “That certainly is a problem, but it’s not really a Guidance Counselor kind of problem.”

“Should we talk to the Headmare then?” Ocellus asked.

“Ehhh,” Starlight said, gritting her teeth, “you could do that, yes, but… It seems to me you kids can probably fix this on your own. Think of it as a Friendship Problem, and think of a way to solve it.”

“And taking the problem to someone who can solve it quickly isn’t actually solving it?” Gallus asked, deadpan.

Starlight covered her eyes with her hooves and groaned, muttering something under her breath. “How about this?” she suggested, forcing a smile, “Spend the rest of the day thinking of other ways to approach the Ash problem, and if you can’t come up with anything worth trying, Twilight and I will take care of it.”

“That sounds fair,” Ocellus said before any of her friends could protest. She got out of the chair and bowed her head to Starlight. “Thank you very much,” she said, and headed for the door. Silverstream, Sandbar, and Yona followed quickly after her, but Smolder and Gallus both paused to give Starlight hard looks before leaving as well.

As soon as the door closed behind Gallus, Starlight threw her head back and groaned loudly. “Thanks a ton, Ashen Blaze,” she snarked.

That evening, the six students gathered at a table in the common area of the dormitory. Smolder pounded a claw on the table to call the meeting to order and said, “So, any ideas on how to get Ash to lay off of Ocellus?”

“Ocellus could just refuse to change when she goes in the room,” Gallus said.

“But that will just get me in trouble,” Ocellus protested. “I don’t want my grades to suffer just to make a point.”

“Maybe he’ll get tired of having to kick you out of class all the time before it affects your grade,” Gallus said.

Sandbar shook his head. “Ash won’t get tired of it,” he said. “Getting to punish Ocellus for not following the rules would be a win for him as much as seeing her comply.”

“I have an idea!” Silverstream said. “All of us break the no-transforming rule.”

“What?” Sandbar and Gallus said.

“How?” Yona asked. “Yak can not change shape. Only Ocellus and Silverstream can.”

“Let me explain,” Silverstream said, holding out her transformation pearl.

Ocellus leaned forward with interest, but then gave a start as she felt a mental touch. Ocellus, said a voice in her head, this is Thorax. Do you have a minute?

Ocellus bit her lip. Thorax had an unusually strong ability to reach beyond the limits of the Changeling Hive Mind, to the point that he could communicate with a group of ‘lings as far from Hivetown as Ponyville, provided he was familiar with them. He contacted Ocellus every couple of weeks to check on her and keep her updated on news from Hivetown. The effort to locate and speak with a single Changeling across such a distance quickly exhausted him, so if Ocellus tuned him out now it would be a least a week before he could try again. Sure, she thought back at Thorax, just give me a second. “Excuse me,” she said aloudto her friends, interrupting Silverstream mid-sentence, “the Hive’s calling me. You keep brainstorming; I’ll be right back.”

As everyone nodded their understanding, Ocellus got up from the table and went to the far side of the room where she wouldn’t be distracted by the chatter. How’s the Hive, Thorax? she thought.

Hey, I’m supposed to ask how you’re doing first, Thorax said, teasing.

Ocellus giggled. I had my first class with Ashen Blaze since the school reopened, she said, sobering. Ash is… still a jerk to me. My new friends are a big help, though.

That’s not surprising, Thorax replied, the “Ash is a jerk” thing, I mean. Maybe this will help: we’ve finally completed the first batch of identification tokens. Ocellus perked up at that news, but let Thorax continue. The Queen chose to send one of them to you, since you’d benefit the most from having one, out there on your own.

I’m not really on my own, Ocellus protested reflexively. I get what you mean, though. Oh yes, having an identification token would be perfect. Any idea when it’s going to be delivered?

It should arrive in Ponyville in a day or two, Thorax answered. Imago and Kumquat put the package in their train’s mail car just before they left today.

Ocellus did some quick calculations and nodded. Ok, she thought, that’s perfect. Thank you so much, Thorax! And relay that thanks to the Queen, too. She felt a wordless acknowledgment before Thorax withdrew from her mind, and then she went back to her friends at the table.

“Look,” Smolder was saying to Silverstream, “even if this was a good idea, I am not letting you turn me into a blowfish.”

“How do you know you’d become a blowfish?” Silverstream asked.

“Spike told me that’s what Queen Novo’s giant pearl turned him into,” Smolder replied. “He’s a dragon too, so why would yours turn me into anything else?”

“Nobody needs to turn into a fish,” Ocellus said firmly. “I have the perfect plan now, one that won’t get any of you in trouble. I’ll just need to endure the rule through tomorrow’s class, unless the mail arrives extra early somehow.”

“Good day class,” Ashen Blaze said as he walked into the classroom, “I hope you’ve all chosen your essay topic for the week by now because…” He trailed off into a frown as he laid eyes on a particular empty desk. “Where’s Ocellus?” he asked.

“I’m here,” Ocellus shouted, trotting through the door and then slowing to a walk. Ash watched her in silence for a couple seconds, and when she was passing in front of his desk he cleared his throat loudly. “Oh, right,” Ocellus said, coming to a stop. She turned smartly to face Ash and slapped a dark wooden, hoof-sized disk on the desk. “That is an official token to verify that I am indeed Ocellus of Hivetown,” she said. “Now you can be sure that I haven’t been replaced by another Changeling without me having to change out of this form.”

Ash picked the disk up and looked at it. One side was carved with Hivetown’s seal of a heart studded with holes, and the other had Ocellus’ name engraved and lined with some light-colored substance. “I see,” Ash said, and then opened a drawer and stuck the token inside. “And now you don’t have it,” he said, smirking at Ocellus.

Ocellus just smirked back and held up a hoof. “I can verify,” she intoned, and the disk appeared on her hoof in a flash of green light. Ash’s eyebrows went up and he checked the drawer. Finding that there was no disk there, he looked back at Ocellus, impressed. “I’m the only one this token will respond to like that,” Ocellus said, setting it back on Ash’s desk, “and I’m told that I can call it to me from several miles away, though I haven’t tested that yet.”

“A cute trick,” Ash said, “but I don’t see why it should give you leave to defy the classroom rules.”

“Seriously?” Smolder exclaimed, surging up from her seat. “Why-”

“I’ve got this, Smolder,” Ocellus interrupted gently, “but thanks.” As Smolder sat back down, Ocellus turned back to Ash and said, “You said that I have to use my natural-born form in this class so you can be sure of my identity. If that’s the only reason, then this token makes the rule unnecessary.”

Ash put his hooves together under his chin. “But why bother making the rule unnecessary?” he asked.

“Because I don’t like it!” Ocellus snapped. “I like the way I look right now; it took me a solid month of research and experiments to get the colors and crest shape right, and it’s all me.” She stopped herself and took a calming breath. “I’m trying to offer a compromise, Professor,” she said. “Accept what this token means, and you get to keep feeling safe from bad Changelings and I get to look the way I choose to look. Everyone wins, and isn’t that how Friendship Problems should be resolved?”

Ash raised an eyebrow and stared at Ocellus for a second. Then, he relaxed and laughed a little. “A-plus, Ocellus,” he said, “you overcame that a lot faster and more maturely than I expected.”

“Um,” Ocellus said, bemused by Ash’s sudden shift in tone.

“Wait a second,” Smolder said. “Was that… Was picking on Ocellus all just a test?”

“Mostly all a test,” Ash replied. “I won’t deny I took some pleasure in Ocellus’s discomfort, but I promised Twilight I’d stop as soon as anyone in this class gave me a good reason to. I’m doing something similar with my other classes, and I would appreciate it if you don’t tell those students about it. Not unless they ask for help first, at least.” Murmurs passed through the class, but no creature spoke up. “I’ll take that as agreement, then,” Ash said. “You can go sit down now, Ocellus.”

Ocellus nodded and walked toward her desk. Just before she sat down, though she remembered something. Digging into her bookbag, she pulled out a paper and carried up to Ash’s desk, setting it down next to the identification token. “I know the essays aren’t due for another couple days,” she said, “but I think I’m done with mine now.”

Ash picked up the paper and scanned the first paragraph. “Ah,” he said, chuckling, “yes, I see.” He set the essay aside and said, “Considering we just enacted what you wrote about, I don’t think I actually need to read it before grading it.” Ocellus smiled gratefully and returned to her seat. “Now,” Ash addressed the rest of the class, “unless someone has any pressing concerns or questions about their own essays, I think that today we should chat about what Ocellus just used on me: the power of compromise.”

By the end of class, Ash had more essays than just Ocellus’s on his desk. The Changeling’s five friends had all produced their own versions of how they’d expected the confrontation between Ocellus and Ash to play out and what they each planned to do if Ash hadn’t given in. As the students filed out of the room, Ash started reading the essay on the top of the stack and quickly found himself pondering how he’d have reacted to arriving unaware to a classroom full of seaponies and assorted marine life, and if Silverstream was actually persuasive enough to get every student in the class on board with her plan.

“Um, excuse me? Professor?”

Ash looked up from the paper and peered over his desk to see a pink pegasus filly with a blue mane curled into a mess of tight ringlets. Ash recognized her; she was part of the class but hadn’t contributed to any discussions yet, to his recollection. It took him a few seconds of concentration to recall her name. “Yes, Cozy Glow?” he asked neutrally once he remembered.

Cozy looked up at Ash with an expression that would’ve been coquettish coming from a significantly older pony. “I’m ever so sorry to bother you,” she said sweetly, “but I have a question.”

“You do know you’re free to ask questions during class, right?” Ash replied. “That’s the whole point of class. This class especially.”

“Gee,” Cozy said, putting a hoof on the side of her chin, “but what if it’s a… personal question?”

Red flags,Ash thought, keeping his face free of expression through pure willpower, red flags every-skvetchte-where. “Out with it, then,” he said.

“I’m just confused,” Cozy said. “You don’t like the Changelings, right?”

Ash gave the little pony a bemused look. “Let’s phrase it as I have deep-seated trust issues toward any creature that can freely change its shape,” he said. “I think that’s fairly common knowledge; I don’t try to make a secret of it.”

“Uh-huh,” Cozy said. “That’s what I’m confused about. If you don’t like Changelings, why would you let one walk all over you like that?”

Ash blinked. Twice. His mouth opened slowly as he tried to deduce Cozy’s train of thought. “Could you elaborate on that, Cozy?” he finally asked in defeat.

The cutesy expression on Cozy’s face cracked a little, her eyes taking on a harder, critical glint. “I mean,” she said, “Ocellus challenged your authority and you just gave in, letting her dictate a change to the rules without even getting angry.”

Ash sighed and shook his head. “Weren’t you paying any attention in class today?” he asked. “I wanted Ocellus to challenge me on the no-changing rule. It was an opportunity I set up for her, or anyone in the class really, to demonstrate what they’ve learned about Friendship and problem solving. Ocellus actually exceeded my expectations. As a teacher, I have to acknowledge that despite my prejudices. And you,” he leaned forward and looked Cozy square in the eye, “need to start engaging in class discussions; it may help you better understand what I’m trying to teach you students.” He gathered up his papers and stepped away from the desk. “I hope that clears things up,” he said as he walked to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, and hopefully I’ll be hearing from you too.”

“Sure thing, Professor!” Cozy called out to Ash.

And I need to look closer at Cozy's previous assignments, Ash thought. Changelings might not be the only race I’m making too many presumptions about.

Ash vs. Neighsay

Ashen Blaze marched through the halls of the school, muttering darkly to himself. “‘Maybe just leave baking to Pinkie Pie,’ she says. Skvetchte rolls came out just fine, Rarity; not my fault you don’t have the palate to appreciate the flavor of stinim. Why can nobody outside the Shadowstar territories appreciate...” He slowed as he passed by Twilight’s office and noticed the doors were ajar, then stopped when he caught sight of something moving inside. “She’s not here today and Spike’s supposed to be helping Dash with a thing,” Ash muttered as he peered through the crack. He saw Chancellor Neighsay walking around Twilight’s desk and looking grimly at the papers stacked in the “To Do” tray. “Well,” Ash said, grinning evilly, “just when I needed an outlet for my frustration.”

Ash carefully focused magic into his horn, gave one of the doors a light telekinetic push to gauge if he could accomplish his goal without exceeding the safety limits of his cast, and then thrust both doors open and strode into the office while loudly saying, “I hope you brought your swimming suit, Chancellor.”

Neighsay flinched back with a startled sound, but quickly regained his condescending composure. “What are you talking about, Ashen Blaze?” he asked.

“Ah,” Ash said, approaching the desk, “that’s right, you wouldn’t actually know. I made a promise that if I ever caught you on this property without good reason, I’d dunk you in the moat.” He reared up, propped one elbow on the desk, and glared at the Chancellor through half-lidded eyes. “And I have to say, finding you here, in the Headmare’s office, while she’s gone does not speak well for your continued dryness.”

Chancellor Neighsay bristled. “You dare to threaten a member of the EEA-”

“The EEA has no authority here,” Ash snapped. “You made it quite clear you and yours didn’t want any part of Twilight’s School of Friendship. That makes you a trespasser, until you convince me otherwise.”

Neighsay scowled at Ash for a second, and then schooled his features again. “This may not be an EEA-approved school,” he said calmly, “but it is still a school operating within Equestria, and I feel that as the head of the EEA I have a moral obligation to at least keep an eye on things here.” He glanced over to the empty chair behind the desk and frowned. “I wanted to inform Princess Twilight of that fact and try to get her to see reason, but she’s not here.”

“No, she’s not,” Ash confirmed. “She’s on her way to Mount Aeris at the moment.”

“Where?” Neighsay asked.

“Mount Aeris,” Ash repeated. “The Hippogriff homeland.”

“I see,” Neighsay said, narrowing his eyes. “I should have known; not even two months since reopening the school on her own prerogative and Twilight has already abandoned it in favor of haring off on adventures again.”

“She’s going there on school business, actually,” Ash said sharply. “There’s a field trip planned in the next few days, and the permission slip for our Hippogriff student, Silverstream, somehow got lost in transit to her parents. Twilight decided to head out there personally to get the new slip signed because it’d be faster than the mail. And she hardly left the school abandoned,” he added. “I’m here, after all. Our Guidance Counselor is still here, as are the two teachers on duty for the day, and the Headmare’s assistant.”

“Neighsay had the decency to look slightly chastened. “Well,” he said, “I would think that following up on a single student’s missing paperwork would be beneath a Headmare’s attention.”

“That’s Twilight for you,” Ash said with a shrug. “Clerical mishaps like that are a personal bugbear to her; she has to fix them personally whenever possible. And if you’re so concerned about the staff going off on ‘adventures...’” He went over to the bookshelf to the right of the desk and lit up his horn briefly. After a second, though, he cut off his magic with a frown and pointed to a particularly large volume. “Would you mind grabbing that for me?” he asked. “It might be too heavy for my horn at the moment.”

Neighsay obliged, settling himself into Twilight’s chair as he levitated the book off the shelf and over to the desk. “Those adventures are a concern,” he said. “I’m well aware that Princess Twilight and her friends are the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony and that has obligated them to act in Equestria’s defense in the past. Now, however, they’ve chosen to take on the responsibility of teaching without retiring from their previous commitments, and I worry where their true priorities lie.” He looked down at the massive volume on the desk and asked, “What is this?”

“That,” Ash said, coming back to the desk, “is the current edition of the School’s rules and guidelines for operation. I recall Twilight providing you a copy when she reopened the school, but I don’t think you actually took it. Anyhow,” he turned the book around and flipped through it, “if I can find… Ah, here we go.” He turned the book back around so Neighsay could read. Pointing to a section of page, Ash said, “There are detailed provisions for what to do in the case of one or more of the teachers being called upon for Friendship Missions – the adventures you’re concerned about – on the days they’re supposed to be teaching. It’s a complex network of who will sub for who based on the day of the week, expected time needed for the mission, and distance, but it boils down to always having enough faculty on the grounds during school hours to keep classes going and students properly supervised so long as no more than the usual two Bearers are called upon.”

Chancellor Neighsay raised an eyebrow. “And what if all six Bearers are needed at once?” he asked.

Ash shut the book and looked the Chancellor square in the eye. “If full force of the Elements of Harmony is needed,” he said, “then we’d have ourselves a situation where the students – not to mention anypony else in the area – would likely be better off seeking shelter than attending classes. Things like attacks by a foreign power, or yet another evil monster arising from a thousand-year nap. And while that may happen with annoying frequency, it’s far from an everyday concern. The priority should be obvious: we keep this School running unless or until Equestria as a whole is under threat, in which case we step up to protect everyone. Is that a problem for you, Chancellor?”

Neighsay was stunned speechless by Ash’s intensity. He took another look at the book, mentally compared it to the size of the EEA guidelines, and pushed his chair back enough to allow him to get out of it easily. “To be perfectly clear,” he said, hefting the book up in his magic and returning it to the shelf, “I still do not approve of this School, and will not so long as you insist on permitting foreign interests to attend. However, it’s clear that Twilight Sparkle has put an exceptional amount of work into codifying the school’s standards procedures, and you, Ashen Blaze, are clearly not a unicorn to be crossed even with a damaged horn. Perhaps this school isn’t quite the impending disaster I thought it was.”

“Glad to hear we’ve risen in your estimation,” Ash deadpanned. “Now, if that’s all you want to discuss...” He gave the Chancellor a challenging look.

“It will do for now,” Neighsay replied calmly. “Although, I would appreciate it if you would inform the Princess of my… interest in the state of her school going forward.”

“I’ll tell her,” Ash promised, “but I doubt she’ll see it as news. Now, shall I escort you to the door, Chancellor?” he asked with a cold smile.

“No need,” Neighsay replied, tapping his badge and opening a portal. “I can see myself out.”

As Neighsay stepped through the portal, Ash heaved a sigh. “Fine,” he muttered, rolling his eyes, “I’ll just dunk you next time, then.”

Ash vs. Friends and Family Day

Twilight Sparkle walked slowly into the garden courtyard of the school, frowning as she read through a checklist of tasks that needed to be completed before the end of the day. A small portion of the list had already been completed, but most of it couldn’t be handled until Chancellor Neighsay arrived to conduct his observation, and a couple new items had been scribbled on at the last minute of the morning’s staff meeting. Twilight was so engrossed in her reading and worrying that she paid no attention to her surroundings until she felt a hoof being planted gently yet insistently against the base of her throat. “Imminent collision warning,” the hoof’s owner said with suppressed humor. “Please remove the obstruction from your vision, Headmare Twilight.”

Twilight lowered her checklist to find herself a mere inch from Ashen Blaze’s face. “Oh, sorry Ash,” Twilight said, backing up a couple steps, “I didn’t see you there… Obviously.”

“I put myself in your path on purpose, actually,” Ash said, stepping aside to show Twilight that he was standing right on the edge of the courtyard’s fountain. “Didn’t think you’d appreciate getting soaked just before the big inspection. Sorry about missing the meeting this morning, by the way.”

“Ah,” Twilight said, standing open-mouthed as her brain took a second to catch up. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You already had to reschedule that check-up twice, so… How did it go?”

Ash smiled. “I’ve graduated to lifting things up to about two dozen apples in weight,” he said. “Doc still wants me to hold off on any actual spellwork, but,” he shrugged, “it’s progress. I can’t imagine the staff meeting was all that fun, anyway. I know Rarity had some complaints she wanted to voice, and there was that fight AJ and Starlight had to break up the other day...”

“The girls just needed a bit of a confidence boost,” Twilight said dismissively. “I’ll admit that things are still a bit rough, but we have the EEA guidelines to get us through it.”

“You say that,” Ash said, turning to look at one of the classroom windows across the courtyard, “but I’m seeing faculty morale and student engagement have both been on a pretty consistent decline after the novelty wore off after the first week. Are you sure we should be sticking so strictly to the book?”

Twilight gave Ash a pat on the back and said, “Have some faith in our friends, Ash. They’ll have these problems turned around before we know it.”

“Problems?” a stern voice said from behind the pair. Twilight an Ash whirled to see a thin, light grey unicorn stallion wearing a short-cut, high-collared, wine-purple robe and a red sash held in place by a large gold badge stepping out of a blue portal. Ash took in the newcomer’s appearance quickly before staring in slight awe at the portal as it closed.

“Chancellor Neighsay!” Twilight exclaimed, putting on a forced grin, “You’re here!”

“Yes,” Neighsay said simply, bringing out a clipboard and pencil. “And you seem… unprepared. If there are problems-”

“Problems?” Twilight cut in, starting to visibly sweat, “Ha! Of course not!”

Ash, sensing the state of panic his Headmare and good friend was in, pulled his attention away from trying to study the fading remnant’s of Neighsay’s portal and jumped to Twilight’s defense. “Unless by ‘problems,” he said quickly, “you mean the inevitable little road-bumps we’re still ironing out. After all, we’ve only been operating for two months; it’s not outside the realm of possibility that, say, our students, who we’ve drawn from all quarters, are still learning to get to know one another one another and adjust to the local culture.”

“I suppose not,” Neighsay said noncommittally. “And who would you be?” he asked, leaning closer to look Ash in the eye.

Ash met the Chancellor’s gaze and, without missing a beat, declared confidently, “I am Ashen Blaze, semi-retired leader of the Order-naries and current Professor of Applied Friendship. You might have heard of me.”

“Semi-retired?” Neighsay asked.

Ash tapped his horn and said, “Not on active duty for medical reasons.”

“I see,” Neighsay said, pulling out of Ash’s personal space and making a note on his clipboard. As he did so, Ash exchanged a glance with Twilight. Twilight looked like she’d gotten over her initial panic and gave Ash a grateful nod for his intervention. Ash nodded back, assured that Twilight could handle matters from there, and started to leave when Neighsay asked him another question: “If you’re a teacher here, Mr. Blaze, why are you not teaching a class at the moment? I believe a class period has just started?”

Twilight and Ash exchanged another glance, and Twilight gave Ash a small nod, permitting him to keep talking. “I’m on hall monitor duty today, actually,” Ash said. “Since our faculty is rather small at present and pretty much everypony has additional obligations outside the school-”

“Such as?” Neighsay interrupted.

“Aside from me with my duties as the Princess of Friendship,” Twilight answered, “the faculty includes a full-time Wonderbolt, one of the ponies in charge of the largest apple farm in Equestria, a fashion designer who owns multiple boutiques across the land, an event organizer who is constantly in high demand, and an animal caretaker.” She produced a small packet of papers and floated it over to Neighsay. “It was in my proposal, but here’s the class schedule I put together that allows my teachers to pursue their own careers while also meeting the guidelines.”

Chancellor Neighsay took the packet and flipped through it so quickly Ash wasn’t sure he’d actually read anything in it, but his frown softened ever-so-slightly and he said, “Well, that’s all in order, at the least. Now, I need to observe one of your classes in action.”

“Of course,” Twilight said brightly. “Right this way, Chancellor.” She led Neighsay to one of the courtyard doors, and Ash tagged along a little behind them. Although Twilight seemed to have averted a stress overload, Ash wanted to be ready to help her if something pushed her back to the edge. If Neighsay questioned his presence, Ash would simply claim his hall monitor patrol just happened to be taking him in the same direction as them.

They hadn’t gotten far inside when Rainbow Dash came zooming out of a connecting hallway and came to a quick, hovering stop in front of Twilight. “Rainbow Dash!” Twilight exclaimed, “why aren’t you in class, teaching?”

“Because my students are gone!” Rainbow exclaimed back. Suddenly realizing Twilight wasn’t alone, and that Chancellor Neighsay did not look pleased, Rainbow quickly tried to backpedal. “Gooone somewhere else. Doing a loyalty lesson,” she said, grinning too widely.

“Ok,” Ash cut in loudly, running up to place himself between Rainbow and Neighsay. Grabbing the pegasus’s head and pulling it down to his level, Ash hissed, “Don’t panic; act in control. Trying to fix the problem will go over better than trying to cover it up.” Rainbow nodded as best she could, given Ash’s grip. Looking over his shoulder at Neighsay, Ash smiled reassuringly and said, “I’ll handle this. Rounding up tardy and absent students is the hall monitor’s duty, after all.”

“Indeed it is,” Neighsay said, nodding slightly. “Be quick about it, though. Headmare, the class?”

“Uh,” Twilight said. Ash and Neighsay both gave her a look, and she snapped back into control. “Fluttershy’s Kindness class, then,” she said, setting off at a trot, the Chancellor following her but keeping his eye on Rainbow and Ash until he was fully past them.

“All right, Rainbow,” Ash said once the coast was clear, “please tell me it’s not your entire class that ditched on you.”

“No,” Rainbow said, “but most of it. Sandbar and the five non-pony students.”

“That’s… not the worst,” Ash said, releasing Rainbow’s head so he could rub his chin in thought. “Those six tend to stick together, even if they don’t quite get along yet. Go back to your class, Dash. I’ll handle this.”

“You sure you can do it alone?” Rainbow asked.

“No choice,” Ash said, “unless you want to risk the Chancellor poking his head into your unsupervised classroom as a surprise.”

Rainbow grimaced. “Good point,” she said, and zipped off back the way she’d come.

“Right then,” Ash muttered, walking off in a different direction, “where’d those chitiqul get off to?”

Out on the shore of the lake just outside Ponyville, the six truant students lounged and chatted, finding more common ground between each other.

“...and that’s why Griffons breathe fire when we get mad,” Gallus said.

“They do not!” Silverstream gasped. “Wait, do they? No. Really?”

“Griffons just full of… hot air!” Yona declared, which made everyone laugh.

“Heh,” smolder said, “and Yaks are actually good at jokes. How about that.”

“It’s almost a shame to break up this cute bonding moment,” came a voice from behind the group. The students started and turned around to see an ash-grey, fire-maned unicorn glaring down at them from higher on the shore.

“P-professor Ash!” Ocellus gasped. “We’re in trouble now, aren’t we?”

“Most astute,” Ash said, coming closer to the group. “Would some creature please explain why you all aren’t in class right now?”

While her friends “hem’d” and “ha’d”, Smolder stood up, folded her arms defiantly, and declared, “Classes stink!” When Ash didn’t immediately respond beyond raising an eyebrow, the rest of the group took heart and got up to voice their own objections.

“It’s so boring,” Silverstram said. “Every class feels exactly the same.”

“Pony school not teaching anything useful,” Yona added.

“Most of our teachers don’t seem to be enjoying themselves either,” Gallus said. “Just Professor Twilight, really. And maybe you.”

“We just needed a mental health break, you know?” Sandbar said.

Ash nodded thoughtfully, his expression softening. “I see,” he said. “Those are all good points, points that most of your teachers would agree with, and I can appreciate the need to take some time away from it all. But,” his expression hardened again, “you picked the worst possible day to do your little walk-out.”

“We were planning to go back for the Friends and Family Day activities,” Gallus said. “We’re only skipping out on one class. How bad can that be?”

“Friends and Family Day isn’t the issue, little Griffon,” Ash said. “Today is the day when the Equestrian Education Association decides whether or not the school is up to snuff, and they sent Chancellor Neighsay, who looks to be one of the coldest, most unbending stick-in-the-mud bureaucrats I have ever encountered. And that’s saying something. Headmare Twilight is already such a bundle of nerves just with him being around, and I had to run off and search for you six instead of sticking around to help convince the Chancellor to overlook the school’s issues long enough for us to be able to fix them.”

The students exchanged chastened and concerned looks, and the Yona raised a hoof. “If stick-in-mud pony say school stays open, then will teachers make school less boring?” she asked.

“I can’t make a promise I’m not sure I can keep,” Ash said, “but I can promise that once we pass this inspection, your other teachers and I will do our best to convince Twilight to let us loosen things up.” He looked up at the sun’s position and frowned as he calculated the time. “In any case,” he said, “it took me so long to find you chitiqul that-”

“What’d you call us?” Smolder asked, flaring her wings.

“Chitiqul,” Ash replied gently. “It just means ‘children’ where I come from.” Smolder lowered her wings, mollified. “As I was saying,” Ash resumed, “there doesn’t seem much point sending you back now just to catch the last five minutes or so of class. So long as you’re back on campus by the time the activities start, I’ll let you six off with just a verbal warning. Fair?”

“Fair,” the students all said, nodding.

“Good,” Ash said. “Verbal warning: do not skip classes in the future. If you need to miss a class for some reason, inform your teacher, the Guidance Counselor, or Headmare Twilight ahead of time. Further unexcused absences may affect your grades. Now,” he smiled, “make the most of the rest of your mental health break. I’ll see you back at the school.”

As Ash left the lake, the students all heaved sighs of relief. “That could have gone a lot worse,” Gallus said. “When I saw him standing there, I was certain he was going to curse us out while frog-marching us back to the school or something.”

“That,” Smolder agreed, “or blame Ocellus for all of us being out here.”

Ocellus rubbed on front leg against the other. “I think he was trying to ignore me as much possible,” she said. “Not that I mind.” She looked in the direction of the school and laid her ears flat. “Maybe we should just head back now,” she said, “and try to make up for the trouble we’ve caused?”

“Nah,” Smolder said, reclining back on the shore. “We’ve got a teacher’s permission to stay out here until Friends and Family Day starts, and I, for one, intend to make the most of that.”

Ash returned to the school at a leisurely pace, since he’d been out truant-hunting for so long that there was almost as little point in him getting back before Friends and Family Day as there was for the students to. When he reached the campus, he saw that a large number of adult ponies had already started gathering for the activities, and then a sight that made him regret his dawdling. Fluttershy was sitting a little way apart from the crowd with a posture that implied despair, an implication that was validated by the presence of Pinkie Pie attempting to simultaneously hug the pegasus and offer her a cupcake.

“What happened?” Ash asked, trotting up to them.

Fluttershy sniffled and looked up at Ash. “Oh,” she moaned, “I may have ruined everything.”

“How so?” Ash asked.

“I...” Fluttershy sniffled again. “I couldn’t get all the way through my lesson. Chancellor Neighsay was observing my class, and even when I wasn’t looking his way I could feel his eyes staring, judging me. I tried my best to muscle though, but I just couldn’t take it. I froze up, and Twilight had to jump in and take over. Now he’s going to deny the school’s accreditation and Twilight’s going to be crushed, and it’s all my fault.”

“Hey now,” Pinkie cut in, “the Chancellor didn’t actually say he wasn’t going to pass the school, did he?” Fluttershy shook her head slowly. “See?” Pinkie said, shoving the cupcake into Ash’s hooves so she could hug Fluttershy properly. “He’s a cranky old pony, but I’m sure that underneath it all he’ll be understanding. I mean, he’s in charge of all the teachers in Equestria, right? He has to know that school things don’t always go perfectly.”

“And I can probably bring him around if he’s not feeling nice,” Ash said, leaning down and holding the cupcake out to Fluttershy. “I think I managed to forge a connection with him as a fellow grouch.” He looked up as he heard the school’s main doors open and saw Neighsay and Twilight walking out, a nervous hitch apparent in the latter’s gait. “In fact,” Ash said, shoving the cupcake into Fluttershy’s grasp, “it looks like it’s already damage-control time. No more worries.” He cantered over to Twilight and Neighsay as Fluttershy sat a little straighter and took a bite out of the cupcake.

Before Ash could say a word, Neighsay fixed him with a hard look and said, “There you are; I was just wondering if you’d found the missing students yet.”

Ash nodded smartly. “It took longer than expected,” he said, “but yes, I found them and told them to get their hindquarters over here.”

“Is that all?” Neighsay asked, frowning.

Ash blinked. “It’s the first offense for each of them,” he said, “and they only missed one class period. That only warrants a verbal warning, doesn’t it?”

“Ordinarily, yes,” the Chancellor said, “but I would’ve administered a somewhat harsher punishment for disrupting normal operations during such a… crucial day.”

Red flag, Ash thought grimly. “I see,” he said, nonchalant. “If I may say so, our good Headmare here has been drilling us in doing things ‘by the book’ since day one, and your suggestion seems not very by-the-book, sir.”

Chancellor Neighsay’s eyes went wide momentarily, and he scratched out something on his clipboard as he schooled his expression back into line. “At least one other pony here knows their business,” he muttered.

So, was that just a test, Neighsay? Ash thought, Or did I actually hit a weak-point?

“Where are the students, Ash?” Twilight asked, looking around the area.

“They should be arriving any second,” Ash replied, looking in the direction of the lake. As Twilight and Neighsay turned to follow his gaze, the six truant students came racing into view. Gallus, Silverstream, and Smolder were flying, while Ocellus had evidently chosen to run alongside Yona and Sandbar rather than take flight as well. “Ah,” Ash said, “right-”

“Invasion!” Chancellor Neighsay yelled. “The school is under attack!”

Ash and Twilight both gave the Chancellor extremely concerned looks. “Uh, Chancellor,” Ash started to say, only to stop when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Yona step on her own braid and trip. Ash quickly shoved Neighsay and Twilight out of the path of the tumbling Yak, but couldn’t get clear himself. As Yona bowled into him, Ash instinctively latched on and rolled with her for the last couple of feet, ending up partially pinned under her bulk.

“Yona,” Ash groaned, “we’ve talked about careless running.”

“Sorry,” Yona said. The rest of the students rushed over, and Smolder and Gallus lifted Yona off of Ash and put her on her feet.

“Are you ok?” Silverstream asked as she helped Ash get up.

“I’m fine. Nothing broken,” Ash said, mostly on reflex. He then actually checked himself over, ending with making sure his horn’s cast was still intact. “Nothing that wasn’t already broken, that is,” he amended.

“How dare you?” Chancellor Neighsay snapped, approaching the group. “This act of aggression-”

“Aggression?” Ash asked, confused and concerned. “Chancellor, she just tripped. It’s not an... uncommon occurrence.”

Neighsay looked at Ash as if the other unicorn had grown a second head. “Not uncommon?” he asked. “You don’t mean... These are students?”

“Yep,” Ash said.

“Princess Twilight!” Neighsay snapped at the alicorn as she came over to the group, “Is this true?”

“O-of course,” Twilight said, bemused.

By now, the hubbub had attracted the attention of all the ponies in attendance, as well as the leaders and representatives of the five non-pony races. Everyone gathered to watch as Chancellor Neighsay pointed an accusing hoof at Twilight. “You said you were opening this school to protect Equestria!” he shouted, “To defend ponies from dangerous creatures that don’t have our best interests at heart!”

Twilight stood firm, confident in the rightness of her cause. “My school teaches all of us to work together through Friendship,” she said.

Neighsay narrowed his eyes and stepped up challengingly close to Twilight, asking, “and how do you know these creatures won’t take what they’ve learned and use it against us?”

“Come again?” Ash said, stepping up to meet the Chancellor’s glare alongside Twilight. “Use Friendship against us? How?!”

“Ha!” Prince Rutherford shoved his way to the front of the crowd. “Unicorn just trying to sound tough. Just scared because Yak almost flattened him.”

Neighsay pawed at the ground and glared hatefully at the Yak leader. “I will not stand to be spoken to in such a manner by the likes of you,” he said. “Go back to your own kind, all of you outsiders!”

“And why should we do what you say?” Ember asked, stepping up to join the stare-down.

“Please, everyone calm down!” Twilight said. “We’re supposed to be spreading friendship here, not anger. Chancellor, if you-”

“No,” Neighsay said sharply. “I’ve seen enough. You have completely failed to meet the EEA’s standards.”

“W-what?!” Twilight stammered, shrinking back.

“Incompetent teachers,” Neighsay said, “students skipping class-”

“That was just this one time!” Ash countered. “I thought we has an understanding on that, you morag.”

Neighsay glared at Ash and continued, sharply, “Belligerent staff.” Ash’s lips curled, but he held his tongue. “And worst of all,” Neighsay said, turning his attention back to Twilight, “permitting potentially dangerous outsider elements to attend classes with the ponies you claim to be protecting! This school is a travesty.” He turned to face the school building and tapped a hoof to his badge. Blue magic crackled out of the badge like lightning, gathered around Neighsay’s horn, and then shot out toward the doors of the school. Large chains materialized, criss-crossing the doors, and then a large blue seal appeared to lock them in place. “By the authority of the EEA,” Neighsay announced, “I am shutting this school down!”

“No!” Twilight gasped. Neighsay just gave her a dismissive sniff and touched his badge again to summon up a blue portal, which he stepped through.

“Morag,” Ash muttered darkly through gritted teeth. “Skvetchte coward! If he thinks that’s the end-”

“That’s enough, Ash,” Twilight said. “I know you’re just being supportive, but it is over.” She looked around at the crowd, struggling to hold back her tears long enough to say, “Everyp- Every creature, I’m sorry. You should all just… just head back home.” Her voice cracked, and she fled for the privacy of her castle.

Ash watched her go, grappling with his own frustration and disappointment. “You’re wrong, Twilight,” he said in a quiet tone. “It’s not over yet. We just need to get past the shock, and rally.”