Bluebird

Nicknames was needed in the Platoon Commander’s office. He galloped briskly; this was the second time he went to see Captain Westland in less than a week since term started. While he hoped the urgent request was for good news, given his past behaviour, he couldn’t avoid the prospect of being in trouble somehow.

As he made it to the office, he knocked on the door, wiped away any sweat he gained, and was called in. He promptly entered, stopping shy of the captain’s desk and saluting for formality.

“Good morning, Nick.” Captain Westland had her stonewall expression but with relaxed open eyes and a raised intonation in her opening. A subtle hint that it wasn’t detrimental. “I’ve called you here because you wanted to change your choices, so the Royal Armoured Brigade was your priority,” she explained. “I assume that’s still the case.”

Finally, Nicknames could stand at ease. He wasn’t in trouble. “Yes, ma’am”, he answered confidently. He had to be.

Westland simpered. “Well, telling me on the first day back was one of your smart moves,” she remarked. “I talked to Captain Heavy Fire yesterday. He runs the advanced weapons module and might have a last-minute spot for you.” Nicknames started to grin, an entire module that’d get him one hoof closer to his dream unit. “You’ll just need to meet him before we can confirm it. His office is in the Fullerton block. See him after your last class today, don’t be late.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he glowed at the thought that he was one hoof closer to his dream unit. Then, the rest of Westland’s comment caught up to him. “Uh, what’s the meeting for?”

“Captain Heavy Fire knows his students from last term. He’d most likely want to talk things over with you directly,” she clarified. “He might ask about your knowledge of weapons, which, given your time firing cannonballs with the Hippogriff’s navy, shouldn’t be a problem for you.” She then hunched over her desk, resting her elbows and pressing her hooves together as she stared deeply at Nicknames. “Just try to take this a little seriously. If you don’t get in now, then it’s either your original choices or deferment,” she said as a calm warning. “Anything else?”

“No, ma’am.” Nicknames hesitated slightly, and the warning tone hung onto him. “Thank you, ma’am.” Westland then rested her head and smiled, partly out of being appreciated and partly out of knowing her warning had set in.

“You’re welcome, dismissed.”

Upon finishing his Buckball training at the gym, Nicknames quickly washed himself off. They began his study hour at the Brigadier Inkwell Library, taking a comic book from his room.

The library was small, the size of two classrooms. Still, all four walls were covered with shelves as high as the ceiling containing books on wars, battles, officers, soldiers, and, most importantly, weapons. Nicknames grabbed the thickest books on military weapons to refresh for his meeting with Captain Heavy Fire.

If he were to take this meeting seriously, as Westland warned him, he would need to prepare to show that he knows about all the weapons and is interested in learning about them.

He dropped a stack of books on the nearest table, where they made a heavy thud, and sat beside them. “Okay, Nick,” he spoke to himself with a firm whisper, rubbing his hooves with readiness. You know these weapons; you just need to jog your memory on them.” After his self-pep talk, he picked up the first book and began to read.

A few minutes later, and not too far away, Gallus was reading a new letter from Silverstream. He was smiling, partially because he got the letter directly, assuring that the whole letter fiasco was in the past, but mostly for how it was written with the same cheerfulness that he adored her for.

Hey Gally, <3

I hope your first week back at the Academy is going okay. I imagine the final term has a lot of pressure coming with it, but I’ve seen you handle much worse.

I’ve let the others know about my “Royal duties.” The news is kind of sad, but they’re understanding and supportive. Ocellus thinks maybe I should convince Aunt Novo that I should do my duties here in Equestria, but I’m not sure how.

We’ll figure something out. Hope your friends are there to help when you need it; maybe they need your help sometimes. Be sure to write back ASAP if you get this; we don’t want to hear what happened last term.

Love you!

Silverstream <3

His engagement to her writing almost made him miss Scythetrotting past in corner of his eye. He hastily hid the letter in the underside of his wing and hurried himself until he was walking with Scythe side by side. “Hey Scythe! What are you up to?” he asked, hiding his sudden urge to catch his breath.

“Oh hey, Gallus. I’m just heading to the library.” Scythe answered, “Looking for a book on the Battle of Foalkirk, I’m thinking of making that the subject of my War Studies history report.”

“Oh yeah, I need to think of one, too,” Gallus remembered that one of the assignments for the final term was on the history of a particular battle or war. It had to be about how it was carried out in a leadership role, what went right, what went wrong, and what would have been done differently.

“Any that come to mind?” Scythe asked Gallus. He knew about many wars and battles, so it was his way of offering help.

As grateful as he was, Gallus already had a mental list of battles he remembered from the War Studies lectures. However, narrowing it down to one he’d be into writing about was the challenge. “I’ve crossed out ones that involve dragons, yaks, and changelings…” Gallus admitted with a grumble. He’d imagine Smolder, Yona, and Ocellus not being happy if he had to write a report that made them look bad.

“Doesn’t help that the ones taught in class are the ones ponies have won.”

Scythe paused to think. A lack of wars and battles that had nothing to do with ponies was discussed. Given the Academy had been entirely taught by ponies for ponies, there clearly was more favour for ponies being the heroes. Given his own family history, plenty would fit that category. He pondered, what kind of war or battle would a griffon be interested in writing about?

Then, a spark of realisation ignited. “Maybe there’s a war that griffons fought in? I’m sure that’d make a good report,” he suggested. It sounded apparent once said out loud.

That realisation transferred to Gallus quickly. “Could you do it if there are any books on them?” After all his years doing classes based on pony stuff, he didn’t think he could do griffon stuff. “Maybe I could write mine on…” his trail of thought cut short as they entered the library.

He noticed a light blue pony with a jagged manecut inside the library at a table, surrounded by books. Still, instead of reading, it looked like he was sleeping with his face planted firmly in an open book. He quickly stopped Scythe from stepping further, as the pony seemed awfully familiar. “Is that Nicknames over there?”

Once he stopped to look at what Gallus was pointing at, Scythe recognised Nicknames immediately. He raised an eyebrow. He’d never seen Nicknames in the library before, and why was he asleep?

The two approached Nicknames from either side to investigate what he was doing. “Nicknames, is that you?” Gallus prodded the pegasus.

“Uuuuuuugh….” A muffled groan was the only response, so he was alive at least, but something was up.

“You okay, buddy?” Scythe attempted to get Nicknames to move by pushing around his shoulders.

“Words…” Nicknames moaned as he pushed his head up from the book. He was dazed. His eyes swirled around like spirals. “So many words…” his head fell back into the book.

Gallus and Scythe looked at each other with concern; whatever was up with Nicknames, he looked like he was struggling. “Do you need help?” asked Gallus.

Once they understood the situation, Gallus and Scythe got to work trying to help Nicknames study for his meeting with Captain Heavy Fire. Scythe picked up one of the books and scanned it for information that made sense.

Meanwhile, Gallus got some cards and drew weapons on them based on the few illustrations he could find, using Scythe's notes to quiz Nicknames.

“Okay, what’s this?”

Nicknames recognised the weapon immediately from the crudely shaped barrel and carriage. “A cannon, duh,” he answered quickly.

“Good, what does it use for ammunition?”

There was a pause. Nicknames’ rubbed his chin. “Cannonballs,” he eventually answered.

“And what chemical does it need to fire cannonballs?”

There was another pause. Nicknames was thinking, and thinking… “It uh… it needs…” and thinking… He pounded his head with both hooves as he fought his mind to find the answer.

“You couldn’t stop talking about cannons a few weeks ago,” Gallus pointed out, trying to encourage him. “You know this.”

“Uhhhh… magic dust?”

Gallus shook his head. “Gunpowder. Cannons need gunpowder.” Nicknames got it wrong. His head became so heavy he fell face-first into the table.

“I’m gonna fail…” he groaned.

His two friends looked on concerningly as they realised studying was not simple. “He’s burned out,” Gallus observed in a whisper. Scythe nodded in agreement. Are you sure you must memorise every weapon in a book before this meeting?”

“I dunno, maybe? I mean, it’s the advanced weaponry module. Who knows what Captain Heavy Fire will ask me…” He raised a good point because he needed to take this seriously. Scythe recalled Nicknames Drunkard talking about failing to enrol at universities and barely passing the Academy’s entrance exam. “Lingo, how do you get good at reading those books?”

The question made Scythe jump; he was still getting used to being called Lingo. He glanced down to see the open book in front of him. In the few minutes they had been at the table, he was already twenty pages in, and it was a pretty verbose textbook. “Practice?” he guessed. “I’ve been reading books since I was a foal, and I always got new ones whenever my dad came home from work. Guess it’s easy for me to pick one up.”

“I wish they were as easy as comic books for me,” said Nicknames in a dour mood, “you’d probably pass this test like a breeze.”

“I… wouldn’t be so sure,” Scythe tried to reassure Nicknames with some humility. “Gallus had to push me into speaking with Major Babel to do language classes, and I didn’t know what to say.”

Gallus took a second to realise what Scythe was doing. He recalled the day he dragged Scythe to Major Babel’s office to get him the private tutoring he wanted. “Oh yeah, he could hardly open his mouth for most of it, but he got through in the end”, he chuckled. “Look, you’ve got time to prepare, so we’ll figure something out so you’re ready in no time.”

The pep talk started to work. Nicknames held himself back up, smiled, and started reading one of the weapons books. Things began to look up.

“Ay Bluebird, Lingo, Nicknames!” Suddenly, a loud, thick-accented call emerged. The three turned around to see a wide-grinned Pound Sterling poke her head out from the library entrance. “Check out wha’ ah bowt wi’ my share of th’ prize moneh!” She made her way, gleefully skipping on each step as the pegasus had something wrapped around her shoulders.

As she reached the end of the desk, she pulled out a sharp red longbow. It looked brand new as it brightly shimmered across the varnished red coating. “It’s gotta ‘undred-poun’ drawin’ weight to shoot far and an aimin’ sight for more accuracy,” she proudly showed off, pulling back on the thick black drawstring, seemingly unaware of the enclosed indoor space she was standing in, holding out a weapon.

Along with the brand-new bow, she had a black cylindrical quiver strapped to her front leg, sporting a set of long red arrows. “These arrows are steel tipped wi’ goose feather fletchins, so they’re sharpa and last a lifetime.” She apparently spent her share of the Academy Adventure Award prize well.

“Oh wow, that’s awesome.” Nicknames exclaimed.

“I know, right? This is the best thing I’ve ever bought in my life.” Pound Sterling excitedly hugged her bow like it was her child.

“Stepping Time can talk about weapons better than I can, too.”

Unfortunately, Nicknames felt his confidence drain as his head slammed back onto the table. Pound Sterling looked confused as to why, especially given Gallus and Scythe glared at her for her poorly timed celebration.

“Did ah miss summa’?”

Once Pound Sterling was explained the situation, Pound Sterling had an idea. The four of them went outside towards the far edge of the field, near the river, where a group of earth ponies were doing some rowing exercises.

As the warm afternoon breeze floated through, Nicknames and Scythe went through a book whilst Gallus and Pound Sterling took notes and drew more cards to quiz on.

“Okay, Nick, you’ve done some reading. Let’s try this again.” Gallus held up a card. “What’s this weapon?”

“A crossbow,” Nicknames guessed immediately.

“Close, think bigger.”

Nicknames furrowed his brow. “…A big crossbow?” he guessed.

“No, it’s a large siege weapon that fires bolts.”

“A… bolt thrower!”

Gallus sighed and pinched his beak. “No, it’s a Ballista”, he responded in disappointment.

“Actually, he’s right”, Scythe piped up and showed Gallus a page on the ballista. “It’s also called a Bolt Thrower, see?” Gallus saw the first sentence on the page read “Ballista” followed by “also known as a Bolt Thrower” wrapped in parenthesis. Nicknames gave a smug grin.

“You see, all Nick ‘ere needed woz ‘ome fresh air,” said Pound Sterling, who felt smug as she rested back on a nearby tree, fully relaxed. “Reminds me o' mi days at Trottin'h'm campus.”

Nicknames went back to the book to read further. “A ballista is like a crossbow, but instead of a string being held back by a pin, it uses torsion springs,” he read aloud. As he read further, his stress built up. His eyes widened, he began to sweat, and he wasn’t stopping to breathe.

“Torsion springs are subject to torque that deforms it, creating angular displacement and stress that, when released, creates a projectile force for the bolt. The greater the spring's torsional stiffness and rigidity, the stronger the force…” He stopped mid-sentence; his eyes swirled again as he lost all focus and energy.

Unsure what was so complicated, she picked up the book and looked at the page Nicknames was reading. “Oh, it twists asteead o’ pulls!” she figured out what torsion engines do instantly, not that it helped Nicknames as he collapsed and burned out for the second time.

“I’m impressed Nicknames has gotten this far, honestly.”

A new voice had emerged, a familiar mocking tone at that. Gallus, Scythe, and Pound Sterling looked around confusingly, wondering where it came from. That’s when Gallus noticed it was Lightning Dust, chilling at the top of the tree, and Pound Sterling was resting again. “Good Grover, how long have you been there?” he questioned with surprise, his feathers puffed out.

“Long enough to figure out Nicknames needs to study but can’t to save his life,” she answered as she smirked sardonically. She noticed four frowns, looking directly at her and not liking her tone. “Relax, I’ll show you the most awesome way to study, the Pegasus way.”

The squad were up in the sky, Lightning Dust doing laps around the perimeter of the field and the academy. In her mind, she was going at her usual pace, but when she whizzed past the rest of her friends the fifth time around, she figured out her friends were taking it slow.

But she could see Nicknames having no problem reading like he did a few minutes ago, so it must be working. “See, this is how you do it,” she gloated, flying in a laid-back pose. Studying outdoors is fine, but nothing gets your brain working more than multitasking!”

“One problem, though” Gallus interjected. “How is this meant to help Nicknames study on weapons?”

Lightning Dust tilted her head in confusion. “Weapons? How would I know? I’m into flying.” Gallus pinched his beak. Lightning Dust should have noted what Nicknames was studying before dragging everyone into her idea.

Meanwhile, Nicknames was having a hard time trying to read while in the air. The pages kept fluttering, and his hooves kept shaking the book around. It was almost impossible to read about a single weapon. “Trebuchet is a siege engine… long arm… leverage… launch projectiles… The projectiles… held in a sling… other end… counterweight… held up… and is released…”

“Nicknames!” Scythe called out to him. “Look out for that…!” Crash! Nicknames felt himself collide into a sea of branches and leaves. “…tree.” Nicknames ended up in a daze as he slowly and naturally slid down from the tree and back onto the grass, impressively with the book still in his hooves.

“You okay?” Scythe asked to check on him.

“I’m fine”, Nicknames answered after closing the book and shaking himself. “I think that’s enough studying today.”

“What do you mean? We’ve got 40 minutes of study hour left.”

“I know, but these books aren’t doing anything.”

As Nicknames was about to walk off, Lightning Dust swooped before him. “Hold on a minute, you’re just gonna give up, no joke?” she said as she was directly in front of him, with a bewildered look.

Pound Sterling joined her, equally surprised. “We can try something else,” she suggested.

But Nicknames moved them both aside. “No, I’m glad you wanna help me, but these books, flashcards, going outside, flying, aren’t working for me.” Everyone else felt disappointed; they all wanted to try and help, but in the end, Nicknames felt worse and defeated. “I’m heading back to the dorm.”

He made a slow, sombre walk back towards the Academy building. As everyone else looked glum, Gallus noticed Nicknames had left the books behind near the tree.

He thought someone should return them to the library, but he tilted his head. “What’s this doing here?” He noticed one book looked very different from the other.

It was a comic book with many soldiers on the cover, screaming and pointing spears in different directions. It looked worn, the paper was creased, and the colour on the front cover was faded. The page had “Issue #216” printed, higher than any copy of Sandbar’s Power Pony issues. Whatever comic book series this is, it must have been old.

The comic book title was in big red font, with sharp corners and rough marks, like a metal structure. “Sergeant Storm and his Whinnying Commandos?” he read aloud.

That was when Nicknames stopped, his head sprung up, and so did his ears. He turned his head around and looked panicked as he rushed back. “Oh, I forgot my lucky comic book!” he exclaimed, swiping the book from Gallus’ claws.

“That’s the comic book you read?”

“Yeah, every month since I was twelve.” He proudly opened the comic to a two-page spread, showing the same soldiers from the cover in the same pose, except this time there were angry-looking diamond dogs in armour giving angry looks towards them. “It’s about a squad that goes on special missions, fighting evil forces using all kinds of weapons to protect Equestria,” he explained as he pointed to the soldier above in the middle.

The pony was noticeably different. They wore an eye patch and had a rugged lower jaw. It was also the only one crazy enough to hold its spear outwards with one hoof, using the other one to point as it screamed out.

“Sgt Nick Storm is the tough, confident leader who always refers to his soldiers by goofy nicknames. You should check it out, Bluebird. There’s this cool shady eagle squadron that Storm’s squadron helps with a few times.”

Although Gallus squinted his eyes at using the term “shady” to describe an eagle military squad he was being recommended to check out, something else Nicknames said caught the attention of the other ponies.

“Wait… ’Nick Storm’, and he refers to soldiers by nicknames” Lightning Dust’s eyes widened as she connected the dots before planting a hoof into her face with frustration. “Good Celestia, that explains so much…”

“This must’ve been your inspiration then…” Scythe added with a chuckle as he figured it out as well.

Gallus noticed that Nicknames said he’d been reading issues every month since he was twelve, which means he has at least 84 issues, likely more given his passion. They felt thicker than an average Power Ponies comic book. Being a fan, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he knows these in detail and if this comic goes on about weapons…

“Hey, does this comic have Trebuchets in them?” Gallus asked, playing out as if he was curious.

“Not this one exactly,” he shook his head. The series hasn’t used one since issue 272 when Sgt Nick Storm’s squad needed to break through a giant wall to get into an evil fortress. It makes sense that they destroy it with a siege weapon that can hurl 300-kilo boulders from a mile away.” He then looked puzzled as to why his friends were looking at him funny, given that he had just answered a simple question Gallus asked him about the comic.

That’s when Gallus smirked.

“Nick, there is one more idea for you to try.”

The entire squad followed Gallus through the building until they made their way back to the library, where they had started, “Why are we back here?” Nicknames groaned, dreading the book-covered walls.

“Yeah, what’s this idea of yours…”

“Back in the School of Friendship, Professor Dash told us how she struggled to study for the Wonderbolt Academy entrance exam.” Gallus began to explain. “Her friends tried different methods, none of them worked. That’s when Headmare Twilight discovered that Professor Dash learned best while she was flying.”

“Rainbow Dash learns while flying like me?” Lightning Dash quietly realized to herself, discovering an aspect of her rival that mirrors hers.

“What’s the point of this story?” queried Nicknames assertively.

“Rainbow Dash passed her entrance exam by studying her way. You struggle to learn by OUR ways when you need to learn YOUR way.”

“And what’s my way?”

That was when Gallus made a quick dash around the library, scanning through the shelves until he found what he was looking for, hidden away in the corner. He picked up a massive stack and dropped them onto the nearest table with a sizable audible thud.

“This”

The squad was dumbfounded, a row of furrowed brows. “Comic books?” Not just that, but a massive pile of military comic books.

“You struggle reading text-heavy books, but you know what weapons look like, their names and basic descriptions from the pages of these.” Gallus continued to explain. “You even recognised weapons based on my simple drawings.”

While the rest of the squad wasn’t sure what Gallus was on about, Scythe‘s inner lightbulb went off. “Oh, he learns from pictures!” he uttered in shock.

He was correct. He nodded, rested his arm on the stack of comic books, and focused back on Nicknames. “If you put the pictures in these comics to the words, you’ll have a better shot learning them than if you were going off the words alone,” he explained as he placed his other arm on the books Nicknames struggled to read through, “and impress this Captain Heavy Fire in the process.”

Sceptical at first, Nicknames twisted his lips, but those lips curled upwards at the idea he could study while enjoying his comics. “Okay, I can give this way a try…” As he approached the stack of comic books, awe transformed his face as he recognised the front cover at the top of the pile. “Holy Twilight! No way!” he exclaimed as he grabbed it off the stack for a closer look.

“This library has an original 50th issue. ‘The Lost City of the Seahawks’”. Given its perceived scarcity and age, the cover looked no more worn than his ‘lucky comic’ issue. It showed a beachfront setting with Sgt Storm pointing in astonishment at a group of silver-coloured ‘seahawks’ with a row of cannons pointed outward. It looked eerily familiar.

Filled with excitement, Nicknames quickly sat at the table and opened the comic book. “Could you find the page on those in the books, Lingo?” he asked Scythe. There were a lot of issues to get through, and they had plenty of time to study.

His friends were on board to help.

“On it”

It was time for the meeting. Nicknames was outside the Platoon Commander’s office in the Fullerton block. He had arrived a few minutes early to ensure he wasn’t late, his mane tidy, his uniform straightened. Yet, he could still feel the bead of sweat going down his face as he paced between the sides of the corridor.

As a nearby clock showed the minute hand reaching the top, he took one deep breath in and one deep breath out. His heart soothed, his mind had the notes he had made, and he was ready.

He moved his two front hooves forward into the office. “Captain Heavy Fire, my platoon commander said you wanted to see me today, sir,” he stated firmly, making sure he stood upright and gave a solid salute—the utmost formality.

“Ah yes, Officer Cadet Moniker, come in”.

“Call me Nick, sir.”

Captain Heavy Fire was a noticeably large earth stallion. He was bald yet had a very rugged chin. His voice also had a deep accent that was as heavy as he was.

“I am told you want to join class of Advanced Weaponry, Nick” He leaned forward, his desk creaking under the weight. “Changed mind over spring break?”

“Sort of, sir,” Nicknames answered, remaining chill. “I always thought weapons were cool, and I was talked into trying out for the Royal Armoured Brigade after spending time with the Hippogriff Navy.”

Heavy Fire was intrigued. “You’ve seen their cannons, then?” Nicknames nodded, knowing he had to fire one as well. “Such beautiful barrels of engineering,” he whispered in admiration, imagining the thick iron barrels in his mind. He then remembered he had an officer cadet before him and shook himself to regain focus.

“I was Senior Officer at R.A.B. for seven years. They don’t let ponies play with weapons like toys,” he warned. “Officers must know weapons in detail to command ponies to use them to make the right decision when things go wrong. You think you could do that?”

Nicknames nodded slowly and subtly. He wasn’t sure if he was meant to say something as Heavy Fire’s eyes narrowed. He thought it would be good to demonstrate the knowledge he gained from the study hour, but he wasn’t sure of the opportunity.

Then he noticed in the corner of his eye what looked like a crossbow standing above a filing cabinet. Except he saw it didn’t look exactly like a crossbow, especially with the stand it was on. “Is that a ballista?” he guessed.

Heavy Fire turned to see the model. “Good eye, this is a replica of Mighty Helm Bolt Thrower,” he explained, taking the model off the cabinet and putting it on the desk. I use models to prepare for the real thing; this one sadly does not fire anymore.”

It was a very intricate model. Nicknames could see all the functioning parts, including the joints that made it possible to adjust angles, the drawstring used actual string instead of rope, and a tiny wheel as the winch. It reminded him of issue 127 of the Sgt Storm comics, where one of his commandos wanted to shoot at an incoming dragon with a bolt thrower. Still, it wouldn’t draw back, ready to fire.

When he tried turning the wheel, he noticed the same issue. “Oh yeah, the winch isn’t turning with the lever”, he pointed out. “It looks like it no longer bites with the spool the drawstring wraps around. You can’t tighten the drawstring back to create the necessary tension to fire the ball bearing.” Nickname explained.

Heavy Fire’s eyes widened. He knew why it was broken. Hence, he kept it in his office until he had time to replace the broken spool, but most of his students didn’t figure it out as quickly as Nicknames did. If that wasn’t an answer to whether he was capable of understanding weapons, nothing was.

“Okay, let’s get down to brass tacks.” Heavy Fire took a sheet of paper and a pen from his desk drawer. The paper had days and times and the names of rooms. He wrote down the titles of books underneath it before pushing it towards Nicknames. “Here’s the schedule for where and when Advanced Weaponry classes will be. I will add reading lists to help you catch up. In three weeks, there will be practical courses on live weapons. Pass exams, and say hello to a future in R.A.B. Do you have any questions? If not, I’ll see you next week.”

Nicknames took a moment to let what Heavy Fire explained sink in. There was a mixture of surprise and confusion at how suddenly the conversation shifted. “Wait, does that mean I’m in?” he asked as he picked up the schedule paper.

“Yes, you’ll be in class next week.” Heavy Fire nodded and folded his arms, hoping the meeting would be over. "Any more?”

Nicknames could feel a spark ignite in his chest. He got in. He wasn’t sure how, but he had an idea. “…was the bolt thrower replica the test?” he questioned.

“What test?”

“Uh, never mind. Thank you, sir.”

Nicknames hurried himself out of Captain Heavy Fire’s office, not wanting to squander his victory. He was still in disbelief as he walked down the corridor to find the rest of his buddies waiting for him. His expression didn’t give them much hope.

“That didn’t take long…” Lightning Dust remarked, noting how short the meeting went.

“How’d it go?” then asked Gallus.

Nicknames wasn’t sure at first, but when he realised the schedule paper was under his wing, signed, and everything else, he knew he hadn’t dreamt of it. He flipped it out to show it off with a massive grin.

“Nailed it!”

Relief was felt all around, with a few filled with joy. “Ay! Gran’ job, Nicki-lad!” Pound Sterling rushed up to give Nicknames a headlock and a mane ruffle. “Now you’re our weapons expert!”

“Yeah, Steppy, soon you’ll ask for his archery expertise someday.” Lightning Dust teased with an added sardonic smirk.

“Oi, watch it!”

The three laughed and played around as they returned to the dorms to rest for another day. Meanwhile, Scythe and Gallus followed behind, pleased that their efforts worked out.

“You know, I’m glad we helped him out.”

“Me too.”

“I like that story you gave about Rainbow Dash.”

“Well, that story helped motivate me to pass the entrance exam, that and a few friends.” Gallus smiled, recalling how Professor Dash taught that there was no perfect learning method and that every creature learned its own way.

It was meant to encourage students to prepare for the final exams at the School of Friendship, but Gallus found it had other uses. He had spent days in the library reading with Ocellus and Sandbar and physically training with Smolder and Yona, with Silverstream cheering him on in the background.

“I figured that support could help a creature pass anything.”