Neighagara Falls: eleven years, seven months, and fourteen days ago

Eyes closed, I lay there daydreaming in the tall grass, enjoying the peaceful solitude of a sunny summer day. Occasionally, I could hear the other fillies and colts playing hoofball or racing in the nearby fields, but I had no real interest in such physical pursuits. Which was just as well, since I wouldn’t be invited to play anyway. I’m an ‘egghead’, and apparently that means I have no skill at anything athletic. I wouldn’t know – they never let me try.

Really, the only thing on my agenda for the rest of the day was to go back inside and do some more reading, but Mom insisted on my going outside for a few hours every day. I can see why on days like this. I could just sit here in the warm grass forever, golden sunlight beating down on my hide. There was a cool breeze that carried the scent of my favorite flowers, daisies. Maybe I’ll pick a few and give them to Mom. She loves it when Dad brings her flowers.

Reality had finally ended my fantasies about handsome princes and epic adventures. I sighed and stretched my legs out, letting my blood circulate. I was stiff from sitting in the same position too long. Of course, there’s an easy way to solve that little dilemma. I rolled through the grass, scattering dandelion seeds to the wind, and no doubt getting some stuck in the hairs of my coat as well. I noticed I’d rolled over a few daisies, and I quickly made them into a midafternoon snack. Daisies are beautiful, not to mention delicious. No one ever tells me I’m beautiful. Well, except Mom and Dad, but they don’t count. Of course, no one ever says I’m delicious either, and I’d like to keep it that way. I looked around, but didn’t see any big scary monsters ready to turn me into a filly-sized snack. Phew.

I picked some of the daisies I hadn’t flattened when I rolled through them, and gathered them into a bouquet which I presented to Mom as soon as I returned to the house. “Mom! I’ve got something for you!”

I hoofed her the daisies I’d picked and she sniffed them. “They’re very pretty, sweetie.” She kissed my forehead and gasped. “You got your cutie mark!”

“I did?” I hadn’t even noticed. I turned to look at my flank as best I could, and sure enough, there was a daisy there. Huh. So this is what having a cutie mark feels like. It doesn’t really feel any different. Does this mean my special talent is bringing flowers to my mother? That’s a silly special talent. Maybe it’s a metaphor for something else. Time to do some research!

Neighagara Falls: eleven years, six months, and one day ago

Unfortunately, my research turned up nothing of any use. Maybe I got it because I really like daisies? I could spend time studying daisies, but they’ve already been extensively researched. There’s not much about them that isn’t already known, and I’m not sure what else I could contribute to the world’s existing knowledge on the subject. Besides, just because I like daisies doesn’t mean I want to completely dedicate my life to a flower. That’s what a lot of ponies do, of course, but it’s just not me.

Once it was apparent the daisy mark wasn’t a metaphor for anything, I tried experimenting. Sure enough, my earth pony magic was in tune with daisies. I could make them grow anywhere I wanted. I had the same effect on other plants too, but it was strongest with daisies. Making things grow was what we earth ponies did best. I’d never really considered myself much of a gardener before, but it was a talent that ran deep in my family. My name is Daisy Dreams, and I was daydreaming in a field of daisies when I got my cutie mark. I guess it makes sense.

Being the first in your class to get your cutie mark brought out a lot of different emotions in ponies. Especially when you acquired it over the summer vacation, and the first time anypony saw it was the first day back from break. They all offered congratulations at first, but I could hear them whispering snide comments behind my back.

I’d been top of my class since day one. That rankled some of the other ponies. I was just an earth pony from a farming family. My family wasn’t rich and I was never going to be a wizard. Now though, with a mark of just a simple flower upon my flank, I started hearing accusations that I was cheating. That would have been bad enough had I overheard one of my fellow students say it about me, but it was my teacher I overheard spreading those horrible lies. I cried myself to sleep that night. What does it matter what my mark is? Am I not allowed to like learning and have an interest in daisies too?

Neighagara Falls: eleven years, five months, and twenty days ago

I followed my teacher to an empty classroom. “There have been concerns you may be cheating, Daisy. I know you understand how serious these allegations are.” I nodded. “So you’re going to take your test in here, away from your fellow students, and we’ll see if there’s any truth to those rumors.”

“Okay.” I wanted to say more than that. I wanted to cry because I was being singled out and treated as guilty until proven innocent. But I didn’t. I squared my jaw and did the only thing I could do to prove my innocence: I sat down at a desk and took the test while she watched me like a hawk.

I hoofed it back to her about half an hour later. Life Lessons just stared at the paper in shock. “So did I pass?”

She nodded. “You not only passed, you got every question right. Even the harder ones I slipped in. I’m sorry, but I had to check. You got a different test than anypony else. I didn’t make up an answer sheet for this one, so there’s no way you could’ve seen the answers in advance. I’m really, truly sorry we thought you were cheating, Daisy.”

“It’s my mark, isn’t it?”

Life Lessons sighed. “It’s a farming mark. It’s abnormal for ponies as smart as you not to get a mark with some sort of educational theme. I would’ve expected you to get a book, or test tubes, or something. Like your friend Book Smart. He’ll probably get a book on his flank one of these days. Cutie marks are what we use to help place fillies and colts to maximize their success in life. But it’s not always an accurate system, as you had the misfortune to discover firsthoof.”

Now I allowed myself a smug grin. “My name’s Daisy Dreams. I have big dreams, and I usually have them lying in a field of daisies.” I’d finally figured out what my mark meant, and I was going to own it.

She nodded. “Stay after class today and I’ll buy you ice cream. It’s not much, but I want to apologize for doubting you.”

An A+, an apology from my teacher, and ice cream. I’ve had worse days.

Neighagara Falls: eight years, nine months, and three days ago

I decided to try something different for my weekly game night with my friends. I’d picked up a copy of Ogres & Oubliettes, and my Dad had agreed to be our Game Master, creating the scenarios we’d face. It required some creativity on all our parts, and I figured it would be a nice change of pace from our usual games of chance.

I took the opportunity to get a head start working on my character, anticipating I’d have to help my friends with theirs. In the end I came up with an earth pony barbarian named Collateral Damage. Lots of smashing – should be fun!

Book Smart arrived early, and I helped him design a unicorn wizard he named Deathbringer. I rolled my eyes at that. “Yes, we’d like to enroll our son in magic kindergarten. His name? Our little darling is named Deathbringer. Um, why are the Royal Guards here?”

He stuck his tongue out at me. “It’s his adventuring name. You want a name that strikes fear into your enemies. And also, something that isn’t your real name so they can’t track you down later to enact their revenge.”

“So what’s his real name?”

“Bland Genericname.”

“Be serious, Book Smart.”

“Does it really matter?”

“Yes. This is your character. He should have a past, he should have motivations for his actions. Think about it and be creative.”

Our other friends arrived, and I helped them with their character creations as well. Pocket Protector chose a griffin ranger he named Gerald after a famous griffin king from antiquity, while Building Block envisioned a pegasus bard named First Strike.

Our adventuring party was ready, and as tradition dictated, they met at an inn. After introducing our characters, we began playing. Since we were still at the lowest level, Dad sent us after a minor nuisance so we could gain experience and hit points.

“Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to stop a wyvern from terrorizing the village of Batkins Glen.”

“What’s a wyvern?”

“It’s a distant, non-sapient relative of the dragons. It’s bipedal, roughly ten feet tall, heavily armored, and carnivorous. Some even have a poisonous tail barb.”

“What happens if we choose not to accept the mission?”

Dad shuffled his papers around before answering Pocket Protector. “You move to Trotsdale, Mareizona, change your name to Al, and open a dry cleaning business.”

“That does sound safer than going after a wyvern. We choose that.”

“No we don’t. Your character can, if you want, but mine’s going after the wyvern!”

“Yeah! You’ve got a griffin character while the rest of us are playing as ponies. You could probably take the wyvern out all by yourself.”

Pocket grumbled, but relented. Going on adventures was the whole point of the game, after all.

The game opened slowly, with our party tracking the wyvern through the countryside, and having a minor skirmish with a band of thieves. Eventually we cornered the beast in its cave.

“I try diplomacy.”

Dad looked at Building Block, incredulous. “An interesting tactic from the party’s bard. Why do you think you can rationalize with a monster, and how do you do it?”

“Because it wouldn’t be right to just attack it without trying to find out why it’s terrorizing the countryside. And uh, I talk to it?”

“Very well, what do you say?”

“Mr. Wyvern, are you angry about something? Maybe you want to talk about it?”

“Roll.”

“Drat.”

“That’s a three. The wyvern roars and lunges for you. Roll to dodge.”

“Seven.”

“The wyvern scrapes you with a claw as you roll free of its barbed tail. You fly back to the rest of the party, defeated. Collateral, your turn.”

“I pick up a boulder and throw it at the wyvern.” I rolled. “Twelve.”

“Your boulder strikes the wyvern in its left leg, hampering its mobility slightly. The wyvern loses one point to both speed and dexterity for the remainder of the conflict. Deathbringer, you’re up.”

“I was thinking a two-pronged attack, if our bard’s up to it?”

“What did you have in mind, Book?”

“I attack the wyvern head on with a bolt of arcane energy, while you grab a cloud and hit it with lightning.”

“I’m okay with this if the GM is.”

“I’ll allow it, but don’t forget Gerald’s turn is in between the two of you. So you go to get the cloud while Deathbringer strikes.”

Building Block nodded. “First Strike goes to get a cloud.”

“Very good. Deathbringer, roll to see how successful your frontal assault was.”

“Fourteen.”

“A solid hit, that knocks the wyvern off its feet. If Gerald and First Strike act quickly, they can take it out while its down for the count. Gerald, what are you doing? First Strike, roll, but don’t announce.”

“Gerald lunges, attacking with a spear.”

“Roll.”

“Ouch. That’s not going to end well.” He’d rolled a one.

“Definitely not,” agreed Dad. “What did First Strike roll?”

“Nineteen.”

“With the benefit of hindsight, Gerald indeed would have been better off opening a dry cleaning business.” Dad rolled a die to determine the outcome. “Gerald misjudges the distance and is felled by First Strike’s lightning attack. Beware friendly fire.”

“You killed me!”

“It’s not my fault you got in the way of my lightning!”

Dad interrupted their banter. “And because Gerald took the lightning strike, that means the wyvern didn’t. You’re down a party member and your bard’s attack failed. What do you do next? It’s your turn, Collateral.”

“The wyvern’s in the cave, but the rest of the party isn’t, right?”

Dad nodded. “That’s correct.”

“Collateral Damage bucks the side of the mountain, trying to collapse the cave.”

“Living up to your character’s name, I see. Roll.”

“Sixteen.”

“You successfully collapse part of the cave, trapping the wyvern but not killing it.”

“Oh sure, the wyvern’s alive but the ranger isn’t.” Pocket Protector huffed.

“You can create a new character when we’re done. The party will need a new recruit to replace Gerald. Deathbringer, it falls to you to finish off our wyvern.”

I hated to interrupt, but curiosity got the better of me. “Let me get this straight: the wyvern is both trapped and injured. What happens if Book Smart does nothing?”

“The wyvern will die when it either runs out of air, or starves to death. Probably the former.”

“So this would be a mercy kill.”

“At this point, yes.”

“Can we save it? Like, could Deathbringer grab it in his aura and forcibly relocate the wyvern to the Dragonlands?”

Dad paused. “That’s a thing you could do, though you wouldn’t level up from this encounter.”

“I think it’s worth it. What about you, Book?” I smiled my most disarming smile at him.

“I think I named my character ‘Deathbringer’ for a reason. Deathbringer vaporizes everything in the cave.”

“Roll.”

“Four.”

“You vaporized the rocks, freeing the wyvern. First Strike?”

“I use the lightning strike again. This time without any griffins jumping in front of it.” She rolled a nine, while Pocket stuck his tongue out at her.

“The lightning strikes the wyvern, and it coughs smoke. But it’s still standing. Back around to Collateral Damage.”

“Collateral throws a small rock at its head, trying to knock it unconscious.”

“The barbarian is going for mercy? You and Book may want to switch characters before the next game. Roll.”

“Fourteen.”

“Your rock hits it, and slows it down. It’s wobbly, but not unconscious. Deathbringer?”

“I stun him with a sleep spell.” He rolled. “Eleven.”

“The wyvern falls to the ground, thrashing around. It’s not asleep, but it isn’t able to get up, either. First Strike?”

“I sing a lullaby.”

“Don’t even bother rolling, you’re a bard. It works.”

“I carry the wyvern to the Dragonlands on my back.”

“I restrain the wyvern with my magic.”

“I keep singing.”

“Congratulations, you successfully removed the wyvern from the area and returned it to the Dragonlands. And that wraps up this session. So what did you kids think of O & O?”

I thought about it for a second. “I liked it. It requires all of us to work together to win, and I like that better than playing a game where one of us wins and the rest lose.”

“Easy for you to say – your character didn’t die.”

“I thought it was interesting,” Book Smart added. “I think I’d like to create a new character before we play again. One with more backstory and less bloodlust. Daisy’s got the right idea. Friendship and tolerance is the pony way.”

Building Block grabbed her mug of root beer and lifted it in the air. “I’ll drink to that!”

Neighagara Falls: six years, three months, and six days ago

My friends and I had come to really love O & O. Even Pocket Protector warmed up to it once he created his second character, a dragon barbarian he named Club. We had an opening for a barbarian since I rarely played as Collateral Damage, instead opting to play as an Abyssinian healer. It didn’t take long at all to discover our tactics as a group were far more successful when we used diplomacy.

Granted, there were times when you just wanted to pound the ever-loving stuffing out of something, and it was on days like that when Collateral Damage and Deathbringer came out of retirement. But even then, we’d opt to show our pummeled opponent mercy. Needless to say we didn’t level up with any frequency. But there was something satisfying about using low level characters to defeat some of the game’s bigger villains with nothing but words.

Pocket Protector liked to play brawler characters. In real life, he was meek and avoided conflict. And when we first started playing, he’d shown that same desire. It had become a running gag to offer his character the chance to refuse the mission and open a dry cleaning business at the start of every new session. But oddly enough, he started showing more confidence in game and that led to him being more confident in real life too. So much so he even asked Building Block out. She’d said ‘yes’ and they’d been dating ever since.

Building Block, on the other hoof, used our game night as a stress reliever. It didn’t matter to her if we were smashing opponents and breaking things, or befriending them. Our fantasy was a stark contrast to her reality: ever more difficult mathematics courses as she prepared for her eventual career as an engineer. She’d long since completed all the math courses offered by our school, and had been taking college level courses to better prepare herself.

For me, it was a creative outlet. After a few months, Dad had turned the GM role over to me and I’d been leading the way ever since. It was rare that I got to play, but I was okay with that. My fun was coming up with responses to the zany antics of the rest of the gang. Not that they ever made that easy for me with the crazy plans they’d come up with. Like the time they needed to break into a house and steal some blueprints to prevent a mad scientist from constructing a doomsday weapon. That encounter ended with the entire neighborhood as a smoking crater. While other times they’d harass random innocent non-player characters while the villain strolled by completely unopposed. I got really good at thinking on my hooves as a result.

Stress had gotten the better of us, and we were in the middle of a ‘beat villains and break things’ campaign. I’d made things difficult by concocting an aquatic villain – a mutated barracuda. With no seaponies or hippogriffs in our party, we were mostly on defense, protecting a coastal town from the monster and his fishy lackeys. They had the power of the waves at their command, but as long as they stayed in the ocean, we were limited in how we could attack. It forced my friends to think outside the box.

The town of Shoreleave was dependent on the docks – a seafaring town, there wasn’t much to support the townsponies aside from the ocean. The same docks that were being obliterated by King Kuda and his army of fish. Wave after wave battered the piers and the warehouses beyond. Our party stood on the beach, devising a strategy.

“Your turn, Book Smart.”

He tapped a pencil idly on the table as he pondered his move. Deathbringer was the team’s only spellcaster, he had an advantage the rest of us didn’t. We were counting on him to come up with something to save the day. “I force the water back with my magic.” He rolled. “Thirteen.”

“You succeed in pushing back the waves, exposing some of the seabed, leaving some of King Kuda’s followers flopping on the ground.”

“Quick, somepony grab them. We can interrogate them.”

“Aye.” Pocket Protector used his dragon, Club, to pull the fish onto the shore, and away from the water they desperately needed to survive. “I eat one to prove we mean business.”

“Roll.”

He looked at me funny. “Why?”

“Some fish are poisonous.”

Out of all my friends, Pocket Protector was the unluckiest in our games. He remained the only player to have lost a character, a fact the rest of us reminded him of periodically. “Hopefully Club won’t end up like Gerald.”

Pocket grumbled. “The rest of you are never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

I smiled. “Wouldn’t dream of letting you forget.”

“Club’s level nineteen. And did I mention he’s a dragon? It should take more than a bad fish to take him down.” He rolled. “Eight.”

“Lucky you, the fish isn’t poisonous, but it’s not particularly tasty, either.”

“I’ll take that.” In character he roared. “Who’s next, little fishies? How about you?”

“You end your turn with another minion grasped in your claws. Building Block, you’re up.”

“Diplomacy.”

I should be used to curveballs by now. I really, really should be. “Pardon?”

“First Strike uses diplomacy.”

“Roll.”

“Nine.”

“This is a level one mook, so it doesn’t take much to get him to talk. But he’s so low level, he doesn’t know much. He tells you what he knows – his name, rank, and their strategy of pounding waves against the town. Nothing particularly valuable. What do you do with him?”

“First Strike urges him to swim away from the battle and throws him back into the water.”

I rolled, to see if the non-player character would do so or not. It didn’t necessarily matter, but whenever the team showed attention to one of the NPCs I tried to keep them in play for better or worse. When they showed mercy, there was the possibly of assistance later. When they didn’t, the possibility for revenge against the party was twofold.

I looked at the die – it was a two. Sorry, little fish, but you’re going right back into the front lines. I didn’t announce that to my friends. If they needed to know, they’d find out later. If not, better that they thought he’d swum away. “Looks like we’re back to Deathbringer.” My own character, Collateral Damage, was along for the mission, but I used him sparingly. My goal was for my friends to have fun, first and foremost. Collateral was there as an insurance policy – I could step in and attempt to save the day if needed… and if the dice cooperated. Right now my barbarian wasn’t needed, so I passed on ‘my’ turn.

“Deathbringer pushes further into the ocean.” He rolled. “Six. Drat.”

“You continue forward on your path, but the ocean closes up behind you, cutting you off from the shoreline. You’re probably going to be surrounded.”

Book Smart shrugged. “We have to risk it. How else are we going to get to the king?”

I shrugged back. “That’s for you to figure out, not me.” I wasn’t about to spoon feed them solutions. There was no fun in that for any of us. “Anyways, you haven’t cleared as much space as last time, but there are a few more minions flopping around. Pocket Protector, or should I say, Club, your turn.”

“Tell me about these minions.”

“What do you want to know?”

“What kind of fish am I looking at? Do they all look alike, or is there any variety?”

“The closest one is a trout.”

He paused. “But trout are freshwater fish.”

Oh phooey, he’s right. I covered my faux pas as best I could. “And what does that tell you?”

“That either our GM knows nothing about fish, or this King Kuda fellow has recruits in the rivers and lakes around Shoreleave. Ponies can swim in freshwater and seawater both, so why can’t mutated fish do the same?”

I hadn’t thought of our villain having freshwater lackeys around town, but I was never one to turn down a good idea.

“Club picks up the trout and demands answers.” He rolled. “Seventeen.”

“This trout is part of an extensive spy network around Shoreleave. Thanks to this trout and his fellow spies, King Kuda is well-informed of the movements of the townsponies.”

“Good to know. Club throws the fish as far as he can, well away from the battle.”

“So not going to eat this one?”

“Nope. Fish that spill their guts to me won’t have their guts spilled by me. It sends a message that cooperation will be rewarded.”

I smiled at that. “Okay First Strike, what are you cooking up?”

“Well, first of all, I take to the sky. If the sliver of seabed is getting smaller, I don’t need to be wasting the space the others need.”

“You’re a pegasus, so that’s a free action. What else?”

“Well, do any of these flopping fish look important?”

“There’s a marlin that’s trying to roll away from you and back into the water. He’s got some military medals decorating his armor.”

“Sounds like a good place to start. First Strike cuts off his escape route and asks Club to pick him up.”

“We take the marlin hostage. How long can this fish stay out of water?”

“Roll and find out.”

“Ten.”

“You’ve got about half an hour.”

“All right, I’m going to ask him some questions.”

“That’ll have to wait until your next turn.” I turned to Book Smart. “Okay, Deathbringer. Do you continue further forward or do you attempt to head back to the shore?”

Book looked at Pocket Protector. “Club’s in this mess with me. You get a say in this too.”

Pocket shrugged. “We didn’t come all this way to back down now. And… and the worst that can happen is I have to make up another new character.”

Book Smart nodded. “We continue on, getting further from the shore.” He rolled. “Eight.”

“Your magic stays steady. The seafloor is still the same size as last turn. You’re not sure how much longer you can keep this up, but for now you’re okay. Furthermore, you’ve pushed through an entire column of troops that are now all flopping at your hooves. Which leads me to Pocket. Is Club hungry?”

“Always. I’m thinking he wants a club sandwich, extra fish.”

“Oh that was awful. I’m knocking one off your next roll. Maybe two.”

“Hey!”

“Just kidding.” I winked and razzed him simultaneously.

“You better be.” He huffed in annoyance, but that didn’t stop him from rolling the die.

“Hey! You didn’t even pick an action.”

“And I’m not going to.” He revealed the outcome of his roll. “One. And if you’re knocking one off my roll, I guess that makes this a zero, so nothing happens.” He smiled all too sweetly.

I snorted. “No more rolling before announcing your action. I’m keeping my eye on you.”

“You only have one eye? What happened to the other one?”

I shrugged. “You’re not worth keeping both eyes on. Except maybe to Building Block.”

“Mmmn-hmmn.” Pocket’s fillyfriend watched me with mock alarm, marking her territory with a kiss. “And don’t you forget it.”

“I won’t. And it’s also your turn. What have you got for us, Miss Block?”

“First Strike asks the hostage questions.”

“You get as many questions as you roll.”

“Four.”

“You get four questions before he expires or you throw him back. Make them count.”

“I really only need one: will he help us overthrow King Kuda if we prop him up to be the king’s replacement?”

“Absolutely.”

In character, Building Block threatened, “Of course, if you ever cause any trouble for the ponies of Shoreleave or any other town around these parts we’d come back and stop you.”

“The marlin, now introducing himself as Rambler, agrees to your terms. Since you only asked one question, you have some time yet before Rambler needs to return to the water.”

“I guess I’ll just have to ask some more questions. How do we stop the king, and what can we do to help?”

“I see you’re taking me up on that whole ‘making them count’ thing. Rambler explains that King Kuda’s source of power is the Hemi Sphere. Taking the Hemi away from him will make him powerless.”

Book Smart rolled his eyes. “There’s always got to be some sort of magical object. Can’t we ever get an evil alicorn to fight or something?”

I cackled. “Be careful what you wish for. Maybe King Kuda is really… the long lost Prince Deep Sea. Now Nightmare Oceanic Trench!” I laughed maniacally, but it wasn’t particularly convincing.

“Oh yeah? And I’m Al and run a dry cleaning business in Mareizona.”

The rest of us chuckled at Book’s joke, though Pocket Protector blushed slightly at yet another reminder of that first session we’d had.

“Okay, you’ve got me. There’s no Nightmare Oceanic Trench. Just King Kuda and his army of fish. Tick tock. Time’s up. Rambler has to go, but now he’s on your side. In theory. You hope.” If the dice will it. I hadn’t rolled to determine that – that would wait until the climactic battle.

With all the back and forth banter I’d forgotten who’s turn it was. There was an easy way to solve that. “Collateral Damage arrives on the scene. Anycreature want some help?”

My friends looked at one another. Now that I was GM, Collateral tended to really live up to his name. He would provide assistance to the team, yes, but there were always consequences. None of my friends were desperate enough to take me up on the offer. But it had stalled enough for me to remember it was Book’s turn again.

“No? All right, Deathbringer.”

“We advance forward again.” He rolled. “Seven.”

“Your circle’s getting smaller. Deathbringer’s straining.”

“Maxim 36.”

Oh no. Not again with those ridiculous seventy maxims… I braced myself for what was coming. “Which one is that again, Book?”

“‘When the going gets tough, the tough call for close air support.’ Which in this case is First Strike. In other words, help us, oh great bard!”

“I can lift Deathbringer, but there’s no way I can extract Club from this situation.”

“We don’t need you too. We just need to get the mage out of the way so Club can go ballistic.”

Pocket Protector nodded eagerly. “Time for some action! Without collater…uh, friendly fire. Yeah.”

“We can bring in Collateral Damage if you want. Double the barbarians for an underwater party.”

“Nope, I got this. Besides, Collateral isn’t fireproof. It’s my turn, and Club starts breathing fire everywhere.” He rolled. “Seven again.”

“You’re surrounded by water. Your fire fizzles out where it hits the sea, but it fries every fish in your little circle of seabed. Book, roll to see if Deathbringer’s able to maintain that circle in the sea despite being airborne.”

“Eighteen.”

“Now that you’re not trying to clear a path and attack simultaneously, the circle is maintained. Fish are frying. Now it’s the bard’s turn. You’ve got Deathbringer in your grasp, so if you want to do a two-for attack I’ll allow it.”

Building Block and Book Smart looked at each other, then grinned. “Let’s do this!”

“I divebomb the seabed.”

“While I send out bolts of electricity from my horn.”

“Both of you roll.”

“Ten.”

“Six.”

“The wind kicks up as you dive, knocking you slightly off course. Deathbringer’s energy attack hits a few targets but mostly misses. A few blasts hit Club…” I paused for effect.

“Oh come on! Not again!”

“But he’s a dragon so he doesn’t even notice.”

“Darn straight.” Pocket puffed out his chest. “Club eats a fried fish. Because he can.”

“You know what, I’m going to let you have that one. Don’t bother rolling to see if the fish was poisonous.”

“Club crunches the remains loudly to intimidate King Kuda’s forces into retreat.”

“Roll for intimidation.”

“Blah. Just a two.”

“It takes more than that to scare King Kuda’s army away. He’s promised them riches and glory. Moving on, the bard’s still carrying the wizard. Up for another combined turn?”

“If I pass, can we just say Deathbringer’s maintaining the circle steadily for Club?”

“Uh… sure.” Hmn, that’s not like Book. Sure, they’ve had a few bad rolls lately but the party’s still in a good position overall.

Building Block shrugged. “I’m out of ideas. First Strike is just flying in circles with Deathbringer.”

It almost sounds like they’re not having fun. I rolled the D20. Sixteen. About time we had some good luck. “A familiar marlin appears holding the Hemi Sphere. It turns out that one of Deathbringer’s errant blasts had grazed the king. It was long enough for Rambler to grab the artifact and make a break for it. Of course, now he’s the new king and he needs protecting. King Kuda’s not about to roll over and give him the position.”

Book rolled the die. “Looks like we need to get Club back to shore. I clear a path to the coast. Eleven.”

“Good enough to get about halfway back to shore. What’s Club doing with this lifeline?”

“I grab Rambler and run like a hoofball player with half a dozen linebackers in pursuit.”

“Roll to see if the path is clear.”

“Eight.”

“There’s debris, but you dodge it. Spears poke out of the water, but you stay out of range. The fish are having just as hard a time getting to you as you are to them.” I looked at Building Block. “Any ideas yet?”

“I might have a couple.” She grinned. “First Strike dumps Deathbringer on the shore and swoops in to grab Rambler from Club.” She rolled. “Nineteen.”

“You successfully retrieve the new king and soar out of the range of King Kuda’s army. What are you going to do with Rambler? He can’t stay out of the water forever.”

“He doesn’t have to. First Strike flies him over land, following the coastline. We’ve got half an hour, right?”

I nodded. “I’m not going to make you reroll. That’ll be fine.”

“Good. After twenty minutes, First Strike sets Rambler down in the sea with the Hemi Sphere. He’s away from former King Kuda and his forces, and he has the enchanted thingamabob. It’s his turn to raise an army.”

“You still have to deal with the former king.”

“Club eats King Kuda.”

“What?”

“It’s getting kind of late and it’s a school night.”

“Fine!” I threw my front hooves up in the air. “How did Club even get his claws on him? You know what, never mind. Go ahead and roll. If you get better than ten he’s toast. Less than ten and he stabs you as you’re swallowing him. And if you get a ten, exactly, your harebrained scheme doesn’t work at all and he slips out of your grasp.”

“Ha! Read it and weep!”

Eleven. “Cutting it kind of close, but a deal’s a deal. King Kuda’s a goner.”

“He also needs tartar sauce.”

“Well, that wraps up this campaign nicely. What did you guys think?”

“The whole thing seemed kind of fishy to me.”

The rest of us threw anything close at hoof at Book Smart. He was pelted in turn with my wadded up campaign notes, the D20 we’d been using, and an ice cube from Pocket’s drink.

“Any campaign where we don’t lose Pocket’s character is a good one.” Building Block chuckled and gave her coltfriend a peck on the cheek.

“And we didn’t even have to relocate to Trotsdale.”

Pocket Protector laughed. “I can’t argue with any of that.”

Neighagara Falls: four years, eight months, and nineteen days ago

The minutes were counting down in the last class of the day. History, my least favorite subject: all memorization, and no real application aside from not repeating the mistakes of those who’d come before. I could read the textbook at home and learn more than sitting here for forty-five minutes.

“Daisy Dreams, please report to the principal’s office.”

Maybe sitting in history class isn’t as bad as I thought.

“Oooooh, somepony’s in trouble!” My classmates were happy to poke fun at me.

“Her? In trouble? No way, she’s the teacher’s pet. They probably want to name the school after her or something.”

“Who’d want to go to a school named after her?”

“Who wants to go to school in the first place?”

“Daisy!”

That wasn’t entirely true. I enjoyed learning, but I also realized my future hinged on a good education. Drifting through school now, and life later, held little appeal to me.

The comments continued as I excused myself from class. My hoofsteps echoed in the empty hallways as I trotted to the office near the front of the school. A whiff of vinegar and baking soda from the chemistry classroom tickled my nose. Probably making volcanoes.

The secretary waved me straight into the principal’s office. I took a seat across from Mr. Tallgrass. He looked over his glasses at me. “So what’s this I hear about you jumping on the vending machines outside the gymnasium?”

“Wha…? I did no such thing!”

He snickered. “You’re always so serious, Daisy. Which is why I’ve called you in here, in all honesty. You’re one of the best students we’ve ever had and you’re on track to become class valedictorian. However, scholastic achievements are only one of the things colleges look for when considering applicants. Your grades can get you into almost any institution of higher learning in Equestria.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

“Schools also look for students involved in extracurricular activities, especially those who can keep their grades up simultaneously. An opportunity has arisen and I think you should take advantage of it.”

“What kind of opportunity?”

“A mentorship with our elementary school. There are some fillies and colts that need a helping hoof. Not just tutoring, but also ponies to serve as role models. To connect with them in ways their teachers can’t.”

I stayed silent, waiting for the other horseshoes to drop. I motioned for him to continue.

“These are some of the school troublemakers.”

And there it is – the metallic clinks of three shoes hitting the ground in turn.

“Some of these are latchkey foals. Parents aren’t around much, and they think they can get into all sorts of mischief without supervision. And usually do. Others have parental supervision but ignore all attempts at discipline.”

“And you think they’d listen to me?”

“You’d be surprised. Many of them are looking for attention, and whether it’s good attention or bad attention doesn’t matter as much as you might think. You’re also not an adult. You’re still a few years away. That means you can relate to them in ways we can’t.”

“I feel like you’re asking me to foalsit for free.”

“Pretty much. I think we can finagle the budget to get you some pizza.”

I couldn’t tell if that last part was serious or not. Mr. Tallgrass’ sense of humor was odd to say the least. “Can I share that pizza with the foals?”

“Good thinking! Bribery can’t hurt.”

“Really not instilling me with a sense of confidence here.”

“Was I supposed to? Daisy, Daisy, Daisy, there’s a real world out there beyond these walls. You need some practical experience to go with all your book learning, get some hard-earned wisdom to go with your hard-studied knowledge. You can only learn so much from books. Sure, that’s what we test for – how good you can retain and apply what you’ve learned. But there’s so much more than that. There are things that need to be experienced instead of explained. While I can’t force you into taking this opportunity…”

I sighed. He didn’t need to finish. He already knew the minute I stepped into the office he had me where he wanted me. My family didn’t have the budget to send me to college. If I wanted to continue my education and make something of my life, it was up to me to earn scholarships. “I’ll do it.”

Neighagara Falls: four years, eight months, and seven days ago

I stood outside Love Canal Memorial Elementary, a newly built school that had replaced the elementary school I’d attended. It was modern, and much bigger than the needs of Neighagara Falls necessitated. It was room for expansion.

I pulled the door open. I was nervous – I didn’t know the first thing about interacting with foals. I was greeted by a secretary. The placard on her desk indicated her name was Dewberry.

“You must be Daisy Dreams.”

I nodded.

“We’ve been expecting you. School will be out in another fifteen minutes. Would you mind filling these forms out in the meantime?”

I took the paperwork from her and mindlessly filled it out. The butterflies in my stomach had spilled over into my other organs. I was way out of my comfort zone.

A bell rang, snapping me out of my thoughts. I quickly jotted down the rest of the information on the forms and passed them back to the secretary. She looked them over and smiled. “Everything seems to be in order. If you’ll just follow me, I’ll introduce you to the students you’ll be working with.”

I gulped. “Okay.”

She led me to a classroom where an orange colt with white and green hair was busy scrubbing down the blackboard.

“This is Cold Brew. He’s currently cleaning this classroom as part of his detention. Feel free to chat with him, but don’t distract him from his work.”

I looked down at the colt – despite his age, he didn’t have a cutie mark yet. “Hi, I’m Daisy Dreams.”

“You’re pretty.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you seeing anypony?”

I did not just get propositioned by a markless colt. I mentally facehoofed. “Sort of. There’s this stallion I like but he hasn’t asked me out yet.”

“I bet I could beat him up.” Cold Brew puffed out his barrel.

“You probably could, in all honesty.” I shrugged. “But I don’t really like tough guys.”

“Hey! I’m not that tough. Not really.”

“That’s not what I’ve been told. I suppose you could prove you’re not so tough by applying yourself to your studies. Pretty mares like me like smart guys. A handsome colt like you should be able to get the attention of a pretty filly. In time. You’ve got a lot of time before you need to be worrying about that.”

His expression faltered for a split second. “None of the fillies in class like me.”

“Well, let’s see if we can figure out what you’re doing wrong.”

“I’m the best belcher in class. All the other colts agree.”

“Well, if you’re interested in other colts, that might work. But most fillies aren’t into that. It’s a sign of immaturity.”

“How about…”

“Yes, that goes for any other bodily functions you might suggest.”

His face fell again. “Oh.”

“Have you ever considered maybe talking to the fillies in your class instead of trying to show off for them?”

“But they always talk about stupid things like dresses and makeup.”

“Do they, or is that just what you think they talk about?”

“I… I don’t know. But I heard…”

“From who?”

“My friends.”

“Who are also colts your own age?”

He nodded.

“You just need to find something to talk about. Fillies like compliments. That can be a great icebreaker.”

“You have a nice butt. It jiggles when you walk.”

“…Thanks.” Of all the things he could choose to compliment he picks my rump. Colts. “Maybe, and this is just a thought, most fillies would rather be complimented on their eyes, or maybe their smiles. Or better yet, on their accomplishments.”

“But you really do have a great butt. It was the first thing I noticed.”

“Yeah, because you’re at about the right height for that to be right in your line of vision.”

He nodded.

Okay, this conversation is over now. “Well, I’m afraid I need to get going. You’re not the only foal I need to meet with today.” I stood up and trotted back to the front desk.

I looked at the secretary, pleading. “So, uh, maybe I could talk with a filly?”

“Cold Brew was a bit much for you?”

“Yes.”

Dewberry sighed. “They warned you about these foals, right?”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to see more of this. But if you want to talk to a filly, well…”

She led me through the school to another empty room. The sole occupant was a dark blue filly playing with a model train, pushing it around the floor and making ‘choo-choo’ noises.

“This is Night Flower.”

With a name like that I expected a thestral. Instead I found a cheerful pegasus filly. She didn’t seem like a troublemaker. Then I noticed her cutie mark, a vertical pole, and did a double-take.

“How did you get a mark like that?”

“Oh! Let me show you! I got it out on the playground on the monkey bars.”

I felt my forehead perspiring as I thought up an excuse. “I can’t. We’re not supposed to leave the building.”

The secretary grinned. “You’re allowed to leave the building, but not the property. You can go out to the playground with Night.” The look in her eyes suggested that seeing the discomfort of others was the solitary joy her job afforded her. It probably was.

Night tugged me out to the playground and I followed reluctantly, silently cursing Principal Tallgrass.

To my relief, her dance was much more innocent than I expected. She giggled at me when she finished. “Why do adults always have that shocked expression when they see me dance?”

“You have a very unique cutie mark, and a very unique dance.” Years of running our O & O games had given me a great ability to come up with ideas on the fly. “It’s such a unique cutie mark I couldn’t fathom what it could mean. I’ve never heard of anypony using a pole to dance before. My first thought was that you were a pole vaulter.”

“Oh, that would be cool too. I’ll have to try that!”

She continued playing and I returned to the school. “That was enlightening.”

The secretary nodded. “Most ponies are unaware that despite its origins, pole dancing has evolved into an art of its own. Many mares use it as an exercise routine. There’s nothing wrong with her cutie mark.”

“She doesn’t seem like much of a troublemaker.”

“She’s not. But you wanted to meet a filly, and she could use a good role model. Most ponies have the same reaction to her cutie mark as you did. That can stress a foal; it can make them start to think their talent isn’t a good one. Having somepony other than her family or her teacher encourage her would be good.”

“Oh.” I felt awful for jumping to conclusions.

“You made a good impression on both Cold Brew and Night Flower. I’ll put you down for mentoring both of them.”

“Both of them?”

She nodded. “We have a shortage of volunteers.”

“Great.”

“You’ll warm up to Cold Brew. Or possibly buck him through a wall. Don’t do that though.”

Neighagara Falls: four years, two months, and nine days ago

“Like this.” Night Flower took a running leap at the pole and hooked it with her hoof.

I followed her lead and banged my hoof against the pole, stopping my momentum and causing me to fall on my face in the dirt.

“Needs work.”

I spit out a clump of dirt. “You think?”

“Nope, I know,” she said with the matter-of-factness that only a foal could get away with.

“Me too.” Cold Brew was laughing from his perch on the stone wall that surrounded the playground.

“Mares don’t like it when others laugh at them.”

“But that was funny!”

“It kinda was,” Night added.

There’s a reason slapstick is a genre of comedy. And they’re foals. I can’t expect them to have empathy. I picked myself up and dusted myself off. “I don’t have the natural pegasus grace and poise like you do, Night.”

Since I was mentoring both of them, I’d decided to take on both simultaneously. Rather than work with one foal one day and the other on another day, this maximized the amount of attention they were receiving, and they were slowly becoming friends with one another too. Cold had yet to say anything about Night’s rump, which I considered a win. He hadn’t made any more comments about mine, either. Which was definitely a win.

I gave pole dancing another try, this time at least managing to spin around the pole before losing my grip and stumbling head over hooves. If nothing else, my pratfalls were entertaining them. At least I’m getting pizza out of this. Dewberry might take delight in tormenting the school’s visitors, but there was always pizza waiting for me when I was done. I shared it with the foals as a reward for good behavior. It was a surprisingly effective incentive.

I stood up and stretched to get the kinks out of my back. “Okay, I think I’m done trying for today. How about we take a look at your homework.” The school year was almost over and my tutoring had been steadily improving their grades in the time I knew them.

They groaned, but followed me back into the building. Dewberry nodded to me as we trotted past her desk. We sat in an empty classroom and I helped Night with her math homework and Cold with science and history. His science class was geology, which should’ve been second nature to an earth pony. The fact that he was barely passing was surprising.

There was a fine line between ‘helping’ and ‘doing it for them’ which I did my best to never cross, no matter how they begged and pleaded. And no matter how much easier it would be for me too. But it wouldn’t help them learn.

Neighagara Falls: three years, four months, and one day ago

I put on my uniform and trotted three blocks to my afterschool job. I’d taken it to earn some money toward my college expenses, but it was tedious, and the only challenging part was trying not to buck the customers back out the door. It was an exercise in patience – even more than mentoring Cold Brew.

I spent the majority of my shift alternating between soul-crushing boredom and brief surges of anger dealing with the general public. Some ponies thought it was perfectly acceptable to treat retail workers with the same contempt they’d show a garbage dump. Which was only slightly worse than getting hit on half a dozen times every shift.

“Good evening, ma’am, and welcome to Windy’s.”

“I’ll take a number three combo, extra mayonnaise.”

A unicorn in the kitchen exclaimed ‘bing bong’ for some reason as I nodded and rang up the order. “That’ll be four and a half bits, please.”

Thankfully, most transactions were normal, but boring. I didn’t even work in the kitchen but I could put together a number three combo in my sleep. It was the second most popular menu item, behind the number nine.

The next customers to walk in surprised me. Cold Brew was holding the door open for Night Flower.

It didn’t matter that I knew them, I still had to say my normal spiel. “Good evening miss, sir. Welcome to Windy’s. May I take your order?”

“Order whatever you want, Night.” Cold Brew stood there proudly. “Can you believe Night said ‘yes’ to a date?”

I nodded.

He continued chatting with me and suggested that Night pick a table while he decided on what he wanted. As soon as she was out of earshot, he whispered, “Can you cover me? I want to make a good impression but I don’t have any bits.”

I reached into my saddlebags and pulled out ten bits. These two are going to be the death of me.

“Thanks.” He placed his order and practically galloped to the table Night Flower had picked.

I delivered their food, even though table service wasn’t technically something we offered. I grabbed a candle from the restaurant’s emergency power outage supplies and put it on the table between them as a centerpiece. They were too young for it to be a ‘real’ date, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have the atmosphere. It was cute. They’re good for one another. Cold’s actually trying to be a gentlecolt and Night’s hanging out with somepony who isn’t put off by her cutie mark.

I waited on a few more ponies, but eventually Cold returned to the counter when nopony else was around.

“How was everything?” I asked.

“Good. But…” Cold looked me straight in the eye and asked, “So, uh, what should we do after dinner?”

“How about you two just go see a movie?”

He looked relieved to have an idea – which lasted for all of three seconds before he tensed back up. “But I don’t have any money.”

I opened my saddlebags again and handed him another twenty bits. If they keep this up I’m going to be working to support the two of them instead of saving for college. “That should even give you enough money left over to treat her to ice cream afterwards. And you better not take her to see an action movie.”

“But…”

“No excuses. You let her pick the film or you find the bits to pay for it.”

I expected him to argue but he saluted me and trotted back to his table. It wasn’t much longer before they left. The dinner rush was ending, and that meant standing at the counter, bored, while waiting for customers. The bell chimed.

“Good evening, sir, and welcome to Windy’s.”

“Gimme a pizza with extra mushrooms.”

“Sir, this is a Windy’s. We sell burgers and burger accessories.”

That threw him out of his groove. “What are burger accessories?”

I grinned. “I’m glad you asked. We’ve got pickles, onions, daisies, tomatoes, mushrooms, daffodils, peppers, three different kinds of cheese, and more condiments than you can shake a stick at! Ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise…

“Bing bong!”

I really need to ask Smörgåsbordwhat’s up with that. “…Barbeque sauce, ranch, hot sauce, and we even have our competitor’s super-secret sauce, which is really just thousand island salad dressing.”

I waited for his eyes to glaze over. “And that’s not even counting our side dishes! Prench fries, tator tots, coleslaw, baked beans, chili, macaroni & cheese…”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” He snorted and stormed out the doors, while my coworkers and a few customers stomped their hooves in approval.

I shrugged. “I didn’t even get to the dessert list.”

My ears swiveled as the door to the breakroom closed. Smörgåsbord’s break was immediately before mine. All I needed to do was wait half an hour. Piece of cake. I cornered him as he was leaving the breakroom. “All right, level with me. What’s up with the ‘bing bong’ every time somepony orders anything with a certain condiment?”

He chuckled. “Me and a couple of my friends thought it would be funny to see if we could get it to catch on.”

“Is it working?”

“Not really, no.”

“Probably because you need a better reason than ‘you think it’s funny’. Right now it’s more annoying than anything, especially when I have to hear it a dozen times every shift.” I smiled at him. “What you need to do is convince ponies they have to say it, for some reason or another. Tell everypony that the mayo is cursed and this is the only ward against it.” I continued smiling but showed more teeth. “But not when I’m working. I already deal with abusive customers and middle-aged stallions hitting on me. If I hear you say ‘bing bong’ one more time, I’m throwing you over the falls in a barrel.”

He gulped.

“I’m glad we had this chat.” I slammed the door to the breakroom to punctuate that this conversation was over. Normally I’d grab dinner while on break – we were entitled to a meal as part of our benefits package – but I’d just threatened the cook. Which meant either I’d have to go make the food myself, trust him to not spit in it, or go without. I chose the latter. Free or not, you could only eat the same greasy food for so long before it became completely unappealing.

Instead I grabbed my homework from my saddlebags and got to work. Time flies when you’re having fun. Not so much when you’re solving calculus problems. Thirty minutes dragged by. If ever I needed more motivation to go to college, this is it. I don’t want to spend my life doing this. Two more hours until I can leave.

Neighagara Falls: two years, six months, and twenty-three days ago

They say you should always be careful about what you wish for. Back when I was a filly, I’d wished for other ponies to think I was beautiful. They do now. Oh gosh, all the colts who wouldn’t give me the time of day back then because I wasn’t good at sports want to woo me now. But they still don’t like that I’m the smartest pony in school. They want me to be a cheerleader. Ugh! Just what I want to do all day, stand on the sidelines and shake my hindquarters. Not happening.

The colt I genuinely liked, the only one who’d been my friend for so many years, was nerdy like me. Unfortunately, ever since I hit puberty, he’d kept his distance because all the jocks kept vying for my attention. Book Smart had always been shy and suffered from low self-esteem, and he’d never thought he was good enough for me.

So I took matters into my own hooves and slipped him a note in our Equestrian class asking him to go to the prom with me. His eyes flew open in shock and all he could do was nod. If he didn’t think he was good enough for me, then I’d just have to prove to him that he was.

Mom made me a beautiful dress for the evening. We weren’t an affluent family, and we’d always been generous when we did have extra bits. Mom donated a lot to those less fortunate than us, and I’d always admired that about her. We may not have much, but at least we have each other. And happiness. And that happiness is worth more than all the bits in the world. So my dress wasn’t fancy and it wasn’t from a designer label like Rarity’s Boutique, but I didn’t care and neither did my date. Judging from his loose-fitting tux, it had once been his dad’s and had been hastily sized down for him. I just giggled and kissed his cheek. “You look handsome tonight. Of course, you look handsome every night.”

Suffice it to say First String wasn’t particularly happy to see me with Book Smart at the prom. Star athlete of the hoofball team, basketball team, and hockey team, he was also the tallest stallion in school, and he had no problems standing out in the crowd. He also had no problems making that crowd part for him when he wanted it to. I sighed as I watched the rest of our classmates make an opening for him.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here? It looks like the prettiest mare in school is dancing with the wimpiest colt. Get lost, twerp.”

Book Smart flinched. The flight part of the ‘fight-or-flight’ response was trying to kick in, but he stood his ground. I’d never been more proud of him, nor more worried for his safety. “No.”

“No? That’s a word ponies don’t say to me.” He reared, then slammed his front hooves back down on the hard wooden floorboards of the gymnasium. Book Smart flattened to the floor and covered his eyes with his hooves. Not the most valiant of poses, but at least he didn’t run away. “I’m just gonna take what’s mine now.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t belong to you, or Book, or to anypony else but myself.”

“You don’t get it. I’m the best thing to ever come out of this school. I’m gonna be a pro hoofball player. I’m going places, and you’re coming with me.”

“No First String, you’re the one who doesn’t get it. I like Book Smart because he cared about me when nopony else did. Do you think just because puberty was overly kind to me I could forget about all the years you ignored me or mocked me? You’re shallow, and I have no time to waste on you. It’s ponies like you that make him think he doesn’t stand a chance with somepony like me. Not everypony bases their dating decisions on looks. I don’t. You’re eye candy, absolutely. Which means you’d just rot my heart like candy rots teeth.”

“Sick burn.” Book had returned to his hooves. It was the first time I’d ever heard anypony speak to First String like that, and I thought for sure the stronger stallion was going to hit him. First String looked to him, then looked back to me.

“Your loss. Watch this.” He trotted up to the band and shoved their lead singer out of the way. “I just wanted to let all you lucky mares out there know I’m single. Who wants to dance with next year’s top draft pick?” Half the mares present rushed over to him, many of them leaving their own dates behind. “Don’t crowd, there’s more than enough of me to go around, ladies.”

I kissed Book Smart on the cheek again. “Don’t ever act like that.”

Book Smart returned the kiss. “As long as you don’t act like all of them.” He pushed his glasses up his snout. “And he’s wrong. He’s not the best thing to ever come out of this school. You are. You’re going places, and he’s not. Maybe the linebackers of the National Hoofball League can knock the stupid out of him.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it.” I laughed. “Come on, let’s dance!”

Neighagara Falls: two years, six months, and twenty days ago

Neighagara Falls is loud. I’d lived here all my life and I knew that on a core level, but it’d been years since the last time I’d come out to see the waterfall. It was a tourist trap, something us locals took for granted.

But the scenery was gorgeous, and there was a reason it was considered one of the most romantic spots in Equestria. It was the perfect place for a date, and that’s where Book had decided to take me for our first real date.

It was loud, and that’s one of the reasons ponies liked it. It was horrible for conversations, but absolutely perfect for making out with one another. Book Smart wasn’t that bold. Instead, he’d cuddled up next to me and we were just gazing at the stars above, lost in our own thoughts. We’d known each other most of our lives, and while he could talk my ears off when he wanted to, romance was as new for him as it was for me. Neither of us had dated up until now – me, because it was a distraction from my studies, and Book because that would mean taking the initiative and asking somepony out.

But now my studying was over, and I had no collegiate prospects. I’d applied to more than a dozen schools, been rejected by a few, and accepted into the rest. But only a few had offered scholarships, and those that had were only willing to give me a pittance. Sure, I’d been our class valedictorian, but my class had only twenty ponies, so that didn’t mean much. I’m just a poor backwoods earth pony from an insignificant tourist trap with a floral cutie mark.

The fact was I couldn’t afford to go to college. I studied so hard for nothing. Why is there no Celestia’s School For Gifted Earth Ponies or Celestia’s School For Gifted Pegasi? Why are unicorns oh-so-special? Don’t get me started on Twilight Sparkle, the so-called Princess of Friendship. Sure, her magic is strong, but she didn’t earn anything more than anypony else. If friendship is all it takes to be an alicorn, why didn’t Pinkie Pie ascend instead? Because she’s just an earth pony like me. Besides, friendship is nearly universal among ponies. By that line of reasoning, almost everypony should be an alicorn princess. She ‘created new magic’ which is something Starlight Glimmer does every other week, yet she’s not an alicorn. …Thank the stars for that. I can’t believe they’d let a former cult leader like her run a school. Even if they gave me a scholarship I’d turn them down, I can’t think of an institution I’d like to attend less than the School of Friendship. Science is greater than friendship or magic. Even the strongest unicorns tire eventually but technology is unlimited.

Book Smart nuzzled me. His lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying over the thunder of the falls. The warmth of his embrace fled as he stood up. He hadn’t been able to convey what he wanted, and now he was up and moving away. I jumped to my hooves and trotted after him.

Once we were far enough from the falls we could hear each other he stopped and turned around. “What’s wrong?”

“Huh?”

“Your tail was lashing about like a cat about to pounce. Something’s on your mind.”

“Life’s unfair, that’s all. I was just thinking about how some ponies have had everything given to them on a silver platter, while the rest of us have to claw for scraps. It’s all about who you know.”

“That’s not entirely true.”

“Isn’t it, though? Three days ago you told me I was going places, yet here I am… very much not going anywhere. Except to work tomorrow at Windy’s. First String’s going off to play hoofball. You’re going off to college. And I’m stuck here in Nowheresville, Equestria.”

“I’m only going to the community college. They’ve got a good library science program. But at least that means we’ll be together. You should apply there too; they might give you a full ride.”

“I did apply there.” In desperation because I likewise thought they’d give me a full scholarship. “What they’re offering isn’t enough or I’d do it.” I nuzzled him. “Come on, let’s go back to the falls. We can cuddle some more, and if you’re a really good colt, you might even get a good night kiss.”

“I hope so, or I bought this tin of mints for nothing.”

I laughed and gave him a playful shove.

“The magics!” Book and I both turned to look at an earth pony mare who’d trotted up to us. “Yes, you! You have the magics.”

I looked at Book’s forehead and felt my own just to confirm we both still earth ponies. “I think you have the wrong ponies. We’re not unicorns, we don’t have the magic you’re looking for.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, everypony has magic, but you, you have the magics. I, Photo Finish, am going to make you a star!”

I started backing away from the crazy pony but bumped into her entourage. It wasn’t like me to be lost for words, but I stammered, “What do you want?”

“I am Equestria’s leading photographer. And you, you shall be my greatest model since Fluttershy!”

“I’m flattered, but I’d be more impressed with a scholarship to a good college.”

“If that is what it takes to get the magics, you shall have it! Come on, we go!” She stomped her hooves and galloped off, her entourage in hot pursuit.

“That was weird.”

“You should do it. You were just saying that you’re not going anywhere. What have you got to lose by becoming a model?”

“My dignity for one. I want to go to school. If ponies know my name, I want it to be because I accomplished something great, not because I look good posed next to a new wagon.” I kissed him. “Not to mention you. You mean the world to me. I’d hate to be apart from you now that we’ve finally started dating.”

“Models make good money.”

I paused. “They do?”

“Well, yeah. They get paid for photoshoots. They get paid royalties to use their images. You could probably make enough money to go to school after a few years. It certainly pays better than Windy’s.”

“Food for thought…”

Neighagara Falls: two years, one month, and twenty-six days ago

I looked down at the letter I held in my hoof. I’d read the words several times over, but they hadn’t really sunk in just yet.

My looks had drawn the attention of more than just the local stallions. Neighagara Falls was a popular vacation spot, especially for couples. It was also frequently photographed, and more than one photographer had taken notice of me and tried to convince me to join them for a photoshoot. A few had even tried enticing me with modeling contracts.

I’d declined all of them and had every intention of continuing to do so. I wouldn’t have even given this most recent one a second glance if not for the fact it offered a full scholarship to any four-year school of my choice in exchange for two years of service. Photo Finish actually kept her word. Any school. That opened up a wide array of choices. I already attract too much attention in Equestria. I’ll attract even more if I model for the next two years, but now that we’ve discovered there’s another world out there… They have to have institutions of higher learning. Maybe by then we’ll be allowed to travel there.

It was the hardest decision I’d ever made, and I had to break the news to Book Smart.

“So you’re leaving?”

“Not forever. You’re off to college soon yourself. We’ve each got to do what’s right for us. Both of us have been gifted an opportunity that’s too good to pass up.” I kissed him. “What’s important is that we’ll always love one another, no matter how far apart we are.”

“I’ll write whenever I can.”

“Me too.” I traced a hoof along his barrel. “I got us something.” I reached into my saddlebags and pulled out a pair of heart-shaped lockets and a pair of scissors. He nodded and I cut a lock of his hair off his tail and placed it in one of the lockets. Then I put that locket around my neck. “Your turn.” I offered my tail to him.

“If you’re going to be a model, don’t you need all this hair?”

“They’re not going to miss an inch. Snip, my love.” He did, and soon he was wearing the matching locket. We kissed one last time. It was going to be an awfully long time before we saw one another again, so we made it last as long as we could. With my uncertain modeling schedule, I was unsure if I’d ever have downtime to visit home. Still, Neighagara Falls had a reputation for lovers, so it was very possible I might find myself on photoshoots here from time to time. Probably posing next to pompous eye candy like First String. Ugh. Give me substance every time. A stallion who can make me laugh or make me think is a better pick than one who just looks good standing next to me. Likewise, anypony who loves me for who I am, as opposed to what I look like, is the one for me.

Maris, Prance: one year, six months, and twelve days ago

Walk down the runway. Turn. Sashay hips. Walk back the way I came. Repeat in a different outfit. Modeling was neither difficult nor fulfilling work. From what I’d heard from my coworkers, the difficult part was surviving all the backstabbing from overambitious competition. They all knew I was only in for two reluctant years and then hightailing it to get my degree, so they left me alone for the most part. Except when photographers wanted to give me a more prominent spot than them. That was when they were catty.

I hated that I’d become that which I hated. I was using my looks to get ahead, which was no different than using a friend or relative to advance. If I was ugly, I’d be lost. No education. All these centuries since the unification of tribes, and earth ponies are still considered the bottom rung of society. Not to mention ponykind’s reliance on cutie marks to determine a mare’s destiny. Earth pony with a flower cutie mark? To the fields with you. Either they think I’m cheating, or it’s ‘you’re smart for an earth pony, but…’

My contract saw to it that my expenses were paid while I was working in exchange for a deferred tuition reimbursement. And since the majority of the outfits I modeled were custom tailored to fit me, I got to keep some of those, too. That would’ve meant more to me if I actually had use for such an extensive wardrobe. My travel arrangements were handled by the agency, and my meals and makeup were picked up by whoever the client was at any given time. Unlike the others, I didn’t receive a paycheck for any of the photoshoots I was sent on. On the downside, it meant I couldn’t afford to travel home during my downtime, so I sent a lot of letters home to Book Smart and my family. The plus side was that it freed up more of my time to study for my eventual trip to Earth. Learning multiple foreign languages without the benefit of somepony to practice conversing with may not be impossible, but it was certainly challenging.

I really didn’t fit in with the other models. Fleur-de-Lis was the top model of this generation, and she was the only one I could’ve named off the top of my head before I entered the field of work myself. Now that I’ve worked with her, I can say without a shadow of a doubt that she’s the prettiest mare I’ve ever laid eyes on. She’s built like an alicorn, and I have no problem seeing what other ponies see in her. I’m not built like that, and I’m not really sure what sets me apart from others. Supposedly I have a nice flank. I guess that’s a compliment? I’d rather get compliments on my accomplishments as opposed to my hindquarters. I don’t think with my butt. Ha! Considering some of the comments I’ve heard my coworkers make, I guess that’s another way I differ from the rest of them.

Aside from Fleur, the rest of the ponies I worked with liked to party constantly. As soon as a photoshoot was over, they immediately headed to the nearest club. Which left the two of us plenty of time to talk.

Overcome with curiosity, one day I blurted out, “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Keep your marriage to Fancy Pants strong no matter how much distance is between you.”

“It helps that Fancy Pants also travels frequently. We try to coordinate things to be as close to one another’s schedules as possible.”

“I miss my coltfriend.”

“Understandable. That’s why the rest of them don’t date anypony. They’re single, and they live it up.”

I nodded. “Even if I was single, that’s not the lifestyle I’d ever choose for myself. I’ve always been a nerd. And then this happened.” I motioned towards my body. “It surprised me just as much as it surprised everypony else. I’ll always think of myself as the nerdy dork with her snout buried in a book. The one the other kids grumbled about because she broke the curve on every single test.”

“Just because you’re pretty doesn’t mean you can’t be smart. And just because you’re smart doesn’t mean you can’t be pretty. Your beauty doesn’t diminish your intelligence any more than your intelligence diminishes your beauty. I know that modeling isn’t your thing, but take advantage of it. Right now you have somepony to do your makeup and your hooves. Watch how they do it and take note of what products they use. When you go back to your normal life, nothing says you can’t look as gorgeous as you do now. Your coltfriend will appreciate it.”

She made sense. I nodded and thanked her for the advice. She was right, just because I didn’t see myself as pretty didn’t mean I couldn’t change that mental image.

Neighagara Falls: twenty-seven days ago

Home. It was nice to be home. I’d had a few brief visits in the past two years, but that was it. There was always another gig – the agency had me for two years and they intended to get every second’s worth they could out of me. I could hardly blame them; my education was going to cost them a fortune. They needed a return on their investment and I knew that. It didn’t help them that I’d actually read my contract without blindly signing it – I’d negotiated it. Mostly I’d pushed for the right to refuse assignments. If I didn’t feel comfortable doing something, I wasn’t going to do it. I didn’t want things coming back to haunt me later.

It was the right move for me, even if it meant less downtime. I’d had to make some concessions, not the least of which was being required to do follow-up shoots in the future if any clients I’d worked with requested me. But no new work, and nothing while I was in school.

I’d ended up on the covers of more than hundred magazines, half a dozen albums, and been made the face of Equestria’s leading orange juice company. Even though they’d covered up my cutie mark and replaced it with an orange, I recognized my face every time I walked into the grocery store. My picture was on the packaging, and probably would be for years to come.

It was amazing Book Smart and I were able to keep our relationship going. There’d been temptations – not just for me, but there’d been a mare eyeing up Book too while I was gone. I would’ve understood if he gave in to temptation. I wouldn’t have forgiven him, but I would’ve understood. In my case, none of the ‘temptations’ were that tempting. Just vapid airheads masquerading as ponies. Style without subsidence.

It didn’t matter how good my grades were or how many foals I mentored, nopony cared about an earth pony from a tourist trap on the edge of Equestria. At least not until I became a famous model.

Once word got out that I was interested in attending college, the offers had rolled in from schools across the country. Including two full scholarships from schools that had initially rejected my application before I was famous. I tossed both of them in the wastebasket where they belonged – if I wasn’t good enough for them then, they weren’t good enough for me now.

I’d gone from not having any options to having too many of them, but I’d already made my mind up years ago – I’d be going to school on Earth, away from the distractions my fame caused. It would be hard to study if my classmates were stumbling over themselves to get in my good graces. The portal was still almost a month away from opening up and I knew going in I’d be the first pony attending college on Earth. I was going to be a distraction to everyone else. But instead of being ‘Daisy Dreams, the famous model’ I’ll be ‘Daisy Dreams, the pony’. I could live with that. Once ponies started becoming common no one would even give me a second glance and I could fade into the background.

Adding to that, fame tended to be fickle. If I stayed out of the limelight for five years, most ponies would forget me. Some might be appalled by that thought, but not me. Fame was never something I wanted in the first place.

I looked at the clock – it was time to get ready for my date with Book Smart.

Ponyville: today

Book Smart had journeyed with me to the portal to see me off. He was halfway through college, so regrettably he couldn’t join me for the voyage. He’d wanted to, but I stopped him. I was off to get my education, and he needed to finish his too. He’d be done before me, and then he could come join me… if the rules allowed it by that point. Otherwise it was going to be another five years before we saw one another.

I’d taken Fleur’s advice. I was still styling my mane, and using all the beauty products I’d been using during my modeling career. Book Smart kissed my cheek and whispered into my ear. “You’re beautiful. Stop hiding it behind all that makeup.”

He’s not the most romantic of ponies, and yet, every once in a while, he’ll say something that makes my heart go pitter-patter. I nuzzled him. “You’re sweet.”

“You’re sweeter.” He hugged me. I leaned into it, staring into his deep blue eyes.

I hated to break the embrace, but it was time to go. “I need to get going.”

“I know. I love you.”

I kissed him. “I love you more!”

“No way!”

“Yes way!” I winked and blew him a kiss as I trotted through the door to go through security.

Pine Barrens, New Jersey: today

The ride to the consulate was interesting. There was nothing like a bus in Equestria, and it was equal parts fascinating and nauseating. Human technology is absolutely incredible. Despite having no physical magic of their own, they’ve created technical masterpieces ponies haven’t dreamed up. That said, the seats weren’t particularly comfortable. I could tell at a glance they were the stock seats designed for humans with a quick retrofit for ponies. Hopefully they’ll upgrade to actual equine seats as ponies become more common on Earth.

I was browsing some college pamphlets while we were riding, trying to decide what schools I was going to apply to. The problem was every time the bus crested a hill or took a sharp corner I could feel my stomach churning. One of the other ponies on the bus said the natives called it “carsickness” and it was only exacerbated by my reading during the ride.

I was so lost in thought I didn’t even see the blue unicorn until she plopped down on the seat next to me. “Hello?”

“Hi! I’m Snowcatcher, and I was wondering what your plans are now that you’re here on Earth?”

I hoofed a few of the brochures over to her. “My name’s Daisy Dreams and I’m trying to decide on a school to attend.” Yale, Harvard, Rutgers, Princeton, and Mount Holyoke were my top choices. I’d be the first pony attending school on Earth, and a number of institutions of higher learning had been happy to accept my applications. I’m not sure if it was my grades, or the novelty of being the first school on Earth to host a pony, but I didn’t receive a single rejection. Three of these were Ivy League schools, which apparently had some prestige attached to them. That meant they were probably pretentious, and with my earth pony roots in a small town, that didn’t sit well with me. The names would mean nothing back in Equestria, just as Princess Celestia’s School For Gifted Unicorns had no prestige here on Earth. As a simple mare with simple tastes, I was leaning towards Rutgers or Mount Holyoke, the latter of which being an all-girls school appealed to me.

“Where are you going to stay in the meantime?”

“I figured I’d use the stipend and get a hotel for a few months until classes start.” I didn’t mention I was already used to living in hotels. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to recognize me. My modeling career was in the past, and I didn’t even want to think about it ever again. That shouldn’t be a problem on Earth, and if I decide to return to Equestria five years hence, hopefully that would be enough time for any ad campaigns featuring me to have run their course.

As soon as I said that I could see the gears in her mind turning. “If you’re going to spend your whole stipend on a hotel anyway, why not pool your money with some of us and we can open our own Equestrian style hotel. You’d have someplace to live between semesters. Or you could even commute.”

That sounded appealing. “Who else is going in on this besides you and me?”

“I don’t know yet. Let me go ask some ponies.” She smiled. “I need to crunch some numbers when we get to the consulate. I need some data on regulations and land prices. But I know we’ll need more than just the two of us. Well, three. I know Dewdrop’s in on whatever I decide. We’ll probably need at least a dozen of us, maybe more. I’ll start asking now.”

“Good luck!” I dismissed it as a pipe dream on her part. No way was she going to convince that many ponies to go in together with our stipends. I could tell just by looking around that the stipend was all the money in the world some of these ponies had to their names. But if she could get it to work, that would be great. It would be nice to have a ‘home’ so to speak, and it would also be nice to be around other ponies considering I’d be exclusively around humans at school.

I went back to looking at the brochures. Rutgers or Mount Holyoke? We’d be passing right by New Brunswick on the way to New York, so at least I’d get to see the main Rutgers campus from the bus. With the exception of Princeton, it would be the closest of all of these choices to the portal. And since either I’d be returning to Equestria someday, or Book Smart would be moving here, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to stay close. As an added bonus Rutgers was about halfway between the portal and the consulate. I might need the consul’s services again in the future. The more I thought about it, the more Rutgers was looking like the best choice. I looked through their brochure again.

Sadly, I can only go to one school. They all had such good programs, and I wanted to go to all of them. But there can be only one, and I’d made my decision. I kept watching the exits on the New Jersey Turnpike as we continued closer to their campus. I pressed my snout against the window as we passed, but the view was blocked by a passing tractor trailer.

Snowcatcher eventually sat down beside me again. “I’m up to eight. That’s not enough, but it’s not a bad start. You still in?”

I nodded. If she couldn’t find enough other ponies to go in on it, I could still fall back on my original plan. It really didn’t make that much of a difference to me, though it would be really convenient if she could pull it off.

“Did you make a decision?”

“I think so. Rutgers seems most in line with what I’m looking for. And we just passed it a few minutes ago.”

She took the brochure from me and looked at it longingly. “I'm not going to lie, I’m jealous. It looks like a great school. I wish I could go too.”

“You could always apply.”

She gave me a sad little half-smile. “I’ve got to focus on getting this hotel off the ground. I was nervous when it was just Dewey and myself that I was looking out for. Now though, there’s eight of us counting on me. And soon there will be more. You’ll just have to learn enough for both of us and teach me too. The degree isn’t the important part, it’s the knowledge that really matters.”

I smiled at her. “You know; those may be the wisest words I’ve ever heard.”

“Ponies often lose sight of their goals and what’s really important in life. What’s your major going to be?”

“I haven’t really decided yet.”

“If you plan on going back to Equestria when you’re done, go for something with technology. Look around at all of this – what these humans have done without magic is incredible. You’d be the only pony in the world with that skill set. If you’re planning on staying here, pick something that sets you apart from the rest of the herd. Play to your strengths. From what I’ve read, overpopulation is a problem on Earth and people are worried they won’t have enough food to go around in the future. But imagine what you could do if you mixed human technology with earth pony magic.”

I started picturing it. “Who are you?”

“Snowcatcher. I thought I introduced myself earlier. I apologize if I didn’t.”

“You did. But I mean, what’s your background? These are good ideas.”

“Princess Celestia’s School For Gifted Unicorns. First in my class.” Her horn lit up and she pulled her degree from her saddlebags. “We’re all in this together, for better or worse. If we can get along with griffons, dragons, zebras, yaks, and all the rest back home, we can get along with humans too. And maybe we can improve both worlds in the process.”

“I’d like that.”

“We all would. Some of us just don’t know it yet.” She smiled and lost herself in her thoughts.

With no further conversation forthcoming, I looked out the window. We were on a suspension bridge larger than any I’d ever seen, and the city skyline we’d been traveling closer to was now lost amongst the individual buildings looming in front of us. It was then the magnitude of everything finally hit me. This city is much bigger than anything I’ve ever seen on Equus, and I’ve been to Manehattan, Equestria’s largest city. What have I gotten myself into?

Author's Note

Story notes for this chapter: https://www.fimfiction.net/blog/886869/story-notes-16-daisy-dreams

Ask Daisy Dreams questions related to the story: https://www.fimfiction.net/blog/960903/meet-the-mares-daisy-dreams

Big thanks to RoyaleFanaticGal for the fanart of Daisy Dreams!